Still With You | JK ff

Chapter 2: Did you even think about me?

You were sitting in a very large white room with high ceilings. It was completely empty, except for the one white chair that you were sitting on. The sound of you getting up from the chair and taking steps towards the window, reverberated through the entire hall. There were large windowpanes on all four sides, and the reflection of the sunlight flooding into the room and bouncing off the white walls blinded you. You looked around but couldn't spot a single door anywhere. 'How did I get in here?' you thought.

Someone covered your eyes from behind, but without a shadow of a doubt, you knew who it was. From his touch and his scent, you could tell, it was HIM.

"You'll never catch me," he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He trailed a finger down you neck, then your back. Like a little child on Christmas morning, you couldn't wait to unwrap your eyes and see him. You picked his hand off your eyes and turned around eagerly only to find him behind a glass screen. He had an unkind expression on his face, one of hatred or even disgust. Your insides whimpered, and you banged your hands against the glass, only to realize that you were trapped in a glass box, like a museum relic on display. You could feel a loud scream leaving your body, but you couldn't even hear your own sound. Nervously, you ran your hand against all four glass walls, hoping to find a hidden door. When you returned to where you started, it wasn't just Jungkook staring at you in dismay. He had his boys with him, all seven dressed gloriously in white suits, looking like wrathful Gods, about to crack their whip upon you. In a blink, the glass walls began to crack and shatter, but so did the floor, and you began to fall into a void. Your last sight – Jungkook peeking over the edge, with a satisfied smile on his face.

You awoke with a jolt from the falling feeling. Your neck and temples were soaked in sweat, and so was the pillow under your head. You threw the covers off you, and sat up, feeling exhausted and scared. It had been a month since that unforgettable night and you still dreamt about him every other day. Sometimes, they were as simple as just having a mundane conversation with him. Other times, he would disappear or walk away from you, leaving your insides aching for him. But gradually, they were now shaping into nightmares, that left you unsettled for the rest of the day. You were embarrassed that one encounter with him had left you longing for him so helplessly. 'I'm so pathetic,' you thought as you got out of bed, determined to not lose a grip on your life. Today was the last day of your University, and you were still scrambling to find a job. What had once begun as a hunt for something you would love to do, had now turned to just finding anything permanent that would pay.

You got dressed in a rush and put some water on the stove for tea. While you laced up your sneakers, your phone rang. It was an unknown number – there were several such calls these days, lots of rejections of applications.

"Hello?" you picked up, already sounding exhausted. "Is this y/n"? a man's deep voice asked from the other end.

"Yes?" you replied impatiently. The water on the pot was beginning to simmer. You tucked the phone between your shoulder and ear and picked up a mug.

"Hello, y/n. I'm calling from a talent agency, and I would like to schedule an interview." You froze in your place. 'A talent agency?' you thought. 'I don't remember applying to one.' But at this point, after having gone through at least a hundred applications, maybe you just couldn't recall.

"Sure," you replied urgently. "Can we pencil you in for today afternoon?" he asked. "I'm actually graduating today, and have to be at the University," you said as you picked out a tea bag and threw it in the mug. "Is that so?" the man said, and paused, almost as if waiting for further instructions. "Sure," he said, after some hesitation, "we can schedule it in for tomorrow then. I will text you the details shortly."

"Thanks a lot, that would be great!" you said as you grabbed the piping hot handle of the pot with your bare hand. A loud painful groan escaped your lips, as the steel sizzled your skin and you dropped the pot on the floor.