Beautiful, Dirty, Rich (Monsta X Fanfiction)

Chapter Eighty Five: You Are Not the Father

I woke up early, not feeling well rested at all. My anxiety and jetlag made me restless throughout the night. It was hard to sleep, knowing that some bitch was answering Wonho's phone in leu of him.

For a while I just laid in bed, wondering when the right time to call and fight with Wonho was. Should I call him whenever, potentially waking him up in the middle of the night? Or should I call him when I know he should be home?

'No, I'm going to wait,' I smirked to myself. 'So I can look Wonho in the eye when I yell at him.'

Now energized, I got up to shower and start the day.

Just like the rest of Minhyuk's apartment, the guest room's shower was nice. It wasn't quite as large, but just as bright and chic. The water pressure was top-notch, and I really appreciated the warmth that comforted me in the early morning.

I went about my usual routine, practicing an argument along the way.

"Well, Wonho's probably going to say some bullshit like: 'That bitch (whoever the fuck she is) answered my phone because you weren't there.'" I loofahed my arms, thinking up a good comeback, "Then imma hit him back with the: 'You can't answer your own phone calls? That's why yo mama dead. Dead as hell. What shoes she got on in her casket?'-" I stopped myself, "No, that's too mean..."

After wasting a significant amount of time, I stepped out of the shower.

When I looked in the mirror, I was taken aback.

"What the-"

Then I stopped myself, "Of, right, Minhyuk dyed me hair yesterday." I had forgotten about yesterday's transformation, and it surprised me momentarily. My mind must have been too distracted by thoughts of the girl on the phone.

After taking a moment to admire the new color again, I wrapped my hair in a towel and got dressed in pajamas.

'Coffee,' I thought.

I wandered into the kitchen, hoping to find a coffee machine. Though I preferred espresso, I would settle for French Press or drip coffee.

Some caffeine is better than no caffeine.

Minhyuk's kitchen was very minimalist. Sleek marble counters lined a mostly white kitchen. Not many appliances were out on the counters. I suspected that he used food delivery apps instead of cooking.

But, thankfully, Minhyuk did have a coffee machine.

I started searching for a bag of coffee grounds, making sure to be as silent as possible. I didn't want to wake Minhyuk with the sound of me going through his things. Eventually I found a jar of coffee grounds and pulled it from the cabinet, closing the door slowly.

"What are you doing?"

I screamed, dropping the jar. It unfortunately shattered upon impact with the ground, glass flying everywhere. The scent of coffee quickly filled the room.

"Don't scare me like that," I breathed.

Minhyuk stood right beside me, his hair disheveled and eyes still tired. The jar breaking didn't even phase him. He hardly flinched.

"I can't help that I'm so light that my feet don't make sound," he muttered. "Should I order in coffee? Since you've made a mess."

I nodded, searching for a broom to clean up.

"What do you want?"

"I could go for a double cappuccino," I replied. As I swept up the grounds, I started to mourn the loss of the perfectly good coffee.