Accidental Friends | A BTSxReader friendship fic

Chapter 25: What You Learn

A dark ceiling.

Hunnie lies unmoving in her bed, a tiny potted plant by the window, my phone. 4:04. I sigh and get out of my bed, grab my 'pretty' notebook, and head to the kitchen. Sleep won't be coming back to me anytime soon. 

I'm so sorry. Please don't cry, please— just— just leave, it's fine. Please don't cry. Just tell them it was a joke! Yes! It was just a joke, tell them I'm not like that. I can change if that would make them stop. No, you're wonderful! It's not you, it's them, it's me. It's okay to leave if it's painful to stay here, just, please don't cry, please— please—

A speck of hot water jumps out of the mug as I begin dipping the teabag. It's been four days and the dreams don't seem to want to cease, yet they are different now, different than how they were months ago. They are more realistic and true to character, which makes it worse.

"Haaaa." I take a minuscule sip of the boiling hot tea. I can't sleep. I flip open the notebook and stare at the page.

          Objective 3 missions:

          STEP 1: Walk around without a wig and try to not feel self-conscious ✔️✔️✔️

          STEP 2: Does anything you want in public even if it's weird, and try to not care about the weird looks or comment people say. (reading a BTS fanfic in front of Tae-ssi must've count                   something, right?) ✔️

What's the next step. I grab my pencil and write Step 3, but then my hand lingers in the air. I don't know what to write. No, I do. I can't. I have to, it'll be good for me. I don't think I'm ready. I would never be ready anyway. I place the pencil down and take another tentative sip, the temperature of the tea seems a little more acceptable to drink.

It's stupid, really. I trust Hunnie with all my heart and so all the worry I have about getting my hair coloured disappeared really quickly. But in the end, everything ends up where it first started and my mind always returns to something I can't change. Ambition. Or my lack thereof.

That's just the way it is, isn't it. With hair, I can always cover it, with career choices, with life, people talks. People talks and I hate it. Why do people talk so much? Why can't they leave other people's child's life choices alone? This society, I'm so sick of it sometimes. Why do we have to impress everyone's parents? Why can't we just be happy with the choices that make us happy instead of aiming for something else just because it seems better to everyone's eyes? Why is being a doctor or a CEO gives more value to a person than being a janitor or a miner or a worker in a construction site if they're all equally happy? I don't get it and I think I never will.

~~~~~~~~~~

The slow coffee-filled afternoon air draws a yawn out of me as I stand, leaning against the cashier table with one hand and rubbing my eyes out in the other. Manager unnie's playlist tends to incline towards the chiller side of kpop these past few days, which really doesn't help fight the drowsiness. Just as I was about to yawn again, two casually dressed customer appear on the other side of the glass door and push the handle causing the little bells to chime. Jimin-ssi and Hobi-ssi. They came together again.

"Oh, Y/n-ssi!" Hobi beams, sending little waves frantically my way.

"Oh!" Jimin-ssi appears from behind Hobi-ssi and waves along too.

"Welcome," I smile. The line is empty. "How are you guys?"

"A bit tired but pretty good. Probably not as tired as Jimin over here," he cackles, "he asked for a solo practice session again last night."