Living Hell Pjm.ff

1. The Satan In Red

"I don't know what we are. I just know we aren't together."

~Kavya

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Knock knock.

"Yes?"

"How long will it take?" Jimin's voice, rough and impatient, breaks through the silence.

"Coming," Kavya responds, her voice as soft and melodious as a lullaby.

"Get your ass out already," Jimin yells, his words laced with familiar rudeness.

She opens the door and steps out of her walk-in closet, a vision in a shimmering long gown. The outfit, a delicate mauve pink, is adorned with intricate net embroidery. Her cleavage is visible through the delicate net, and the fabric clings to her skin like a lover’s embrace, accentuating her graceful curves. Her light makeup hides the dark shadows under her eyes, evidence of countless sleepless nights. Her lipstick, perfectly matching the dress, adds a touch of allure to her already captivating face.

Jimin, momentarily struck by her ethereal beauty, quickly composes himself when he sees the questioning look in her eyes.

Clearing his throat, he says, "It's a theme party, and the dress code is red. Didn't you even know this much?" His voice carries its usual undercurrent of irritation.

"Oh," she replies, turning back to the closet. "I don't think I have anything red. I hate that color," she says, her voice tinged with frustration as she searches through her wardrobe.

He knows she hates red. It’s more than just a color to her; it’s a reminder of a childhood trauma he knows nothing about.

"I know you have a disgusting taste in fashion. Here, take this," he says, rolling his eyes and handing her a bag.

"What is it—" She pauses, looking up at him, only to find him staring at her. Their eyes meet, and the air between them thickens with unspoken words.

"You have to wear this for the party," he says again, his voice a blend of command and annoyance. It's hard for him to be so cold, but his stubborn heart refuses to yield to his softer emotions.

Kavya stares at the dress, a deep frown marring her delicate features. She doesn’t want to wear it because it’s candy red and too revealing. As a businesswoman, she prides herself on dressing with decorum, ensuring no greedy eyes linger on her impeccable figure. But her obstinate husband thinks otherwise.

Determined to protest, she looks into his icy grey eyes. But as she notices his growing annoyance, she swallows her retort. Sighing, she heads back to the closet to change.

Jimin taps his limited edition Louis Vuitton shoes on the white marble floor, impatience radiating from him. It's unreasonable to expect her to change so quickly; she isn't Ladybug from Miraculous or Cinderella from Disney who can transform with a flick of a wand.

Minutes pass, and he knocks on the door again, shouting, "Be quick, we're already late!"

Kavya stares at the dress, feeling utterly defeated. She was excited to meet her friends at the party, but that excitement evaporated the moment she saw the dress. She doesn’t just hate red; she loathes it with every fiber of her being.

"Go ahead, I will drive myself there on time," she says, her voice edged with irritation.

"Are you sure? You won’t break my car?" His words make her blood boil. Their garage is filled with the best and most expensive cars. Can’t he lend her one, or be a little more patient?

"I’ll drive my car," she says, triple-locking the door. Leaning against it, she sighs. "I have to wear it anyway." She rises, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She sighs again, recalling the love of her life she left for the sake of the company. Waving him goodbye with a happy, fake smile when she knew she couldn’t live without him. And worst of all, marrying the devil himself and then falling for him.

Yes, she fell for the devil long ago. That’s why she’s still with him. If she hadn’t, why would someone, a CEO of one of the biggest companies in Asia, hold on and endure all the insults? She was strong and independent, but still not enough for him, and she didn’t even complain about it. She loves him but hates to admit it. She convinces herself it’s just attraction to his beautiful face, with no real feelings involved. But how long can she deny it?

She puts on the red dress he bought for her and wears gold jewelry to match. She finds a pair of heels and grabs her spray paints. Her walk-in closet has everything except red items, given her loathing for the color. But luckily, she has red spray paint, not hers, but usable. She tapes the parts of the heels not to be colored and sprays them. Once dry, she removes the tape and wears the heels.

Grabbing her car keys, she heads to the parking place. Unluckily, the keys are for a red Bugatti La Voiture Noire. Disgusted, she goes back to find a non-red car key. She won’t drive a red car, no matter how expensive. Returning with her Range Rover keys, she gets into her deep blue car, her only car, and drives toward her destination, enjoying the drive after a long time. She decides she should drive herself to the office daily, finding it fun.

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**Time Skip**

She reaches her destination, parks her expensive car, and composes herself with an attitude to suit the surroundings. It's a fancy party thrown by Jimin's friend for his birthday, so she needs to exude elegance and class. She already is elegant, but she feels the need to mask up. She makes her way to the entrance, smiling at familiar faces.

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Jimin's POV

I was talking with my friends while waiting for Kavya to show up. She said she'd be here on time. I'm not waiting for her, just waiting to scold her for being late. That smartass talks a lot.

Taehyung: "Looks like someone is missing their wife."

Jimin: "What? No, I am not missing her, just—"

Taehyung: "Yeah, you’re not missing her, just dying for her to show up."

Jimin: "No, I—"

My words are cut off by the view in front of me. She walks into the hall, her eyes desperately searching for something or someone. She wore the dress I bought her, and she looks—breathtaking, gorgeous, immaculate. The dress fits her as if it was designed specifically for her. The light makeup enhances her stunning appearance. Her coffee-brown eyes land on me, and we stare at each other. I can't and won't look away.

Her eyes shift from me to others, continuing their desperate search. It confuses me. I thought her heart would rest on seeing me, but it seems she's searching for someone else. I feel a sting in my heart; she didn't notice me the way I noticed her. She didn't even recognize me in the crowd. I feel jealous—of whoever she's looking for, of whatever she's eager to see.

After a long search, her eyes show relief. She found what she was looking for. She waves her hand and heads toward the person. My eyes follow her, and I hear Taehyung's bickering.

"Someone is in love," Taehyung teases.

I ignore him, my focus solely on her. She reaches the bar counter and places an order, speaking to someone—a lady beside her, probably a friend. But I still envy her. Kavya's beautiful eyes were eager for her, but not me. Why wouldn't I be jealous?

If you think I'm in love or something, I'm not. It was a forced marriage; we have nothing between us. I might be jealous because I’m an attention seeker. I watch her talk to her friend, pointing toward me. The girl looks back.

It's Seulgi.

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To be continued...

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