After almost six years of training, Hanuel is finally debuting as a solo artist. While overcoming obstacles of mistreatment and financial strain she has worked hard to prove her determination and dedication to her craft. Also wants to give back the...
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"Yes, Ma'am... No... I-... Ok… I understand." Beep.
The abrupt sound signals the end of conversation. Sighing I throw my phone down next to me on the couch.
I run my hands through my hair. It’s long, shaggy. In need of a trim and a wash. It’s too long for my liking but just short enough to call trendy.
I can’t bring myself to really care for it.
“Too much to do,” I say out loud. No one else in the room to hear. This plain white breakroom of the BigHit building is so much nicer compared to, well, the entire building of Yelloworks. It has air conditioning and the walls aren’t cracked and marked with however many years of dirt and grime.
Blowing out an exhausted breath of hair I take a look down at the drafted email. Primed and ready to be sent. It’s not as juicy as the last one but it will have to do, “Am I getting paid enough for this?” Not giving that question too much thought I hit send and look at the time, 12:29. I better get going.
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Laying on the couch in my studio I scroll endlessly through twitter. The harassment has dwindled a little. ARMY twitter is slowly getting back to its meme self. But seeing the continued hate breaks my heart. I know they see it as support for me and the guys but not being able to tell my side. Not sharing my side of the story is frustrating.
Knock Knock.
“Come in,” I yell towards the door. Knowing full well that the soundproofing of the room muffles my words.
Jimin opens the door anyway and smiles very charmingly at me, “Hi Hoseokie hyung!”
Trading him my best smile I raise my pitch and chime back, “Jiminie~!” He picks up my legs, sits where they were then laying them across his lap. Patting them affectionately all the while his grin stays. What does he want?
“Hoseokie~ How is work going?”
I look at my desk on the opposite wall, not a single program open just my colorful wallpaper on the monitor is displayed, “It’s slow.”
He hums, “So you’re free to have drinks with us?”
“Drinks?” giving my phone a tap to wake it up, “It’s not even 1?”
