Love Letters {BTSxReader}

6. Laughing Stock

     "Is that her?"

     "It's has to be... she has some guts to show up after last night."

      As you walk through the halls to your first period, you can't help but feel everyone's eyes on you, trembling with anxiety.

     "Poor girl, seven guys and none of them wanted her? That's just sad."

     You feel tears well up in your eyes.

     Running to the locker room, you swing the door open and sprint to your locker.

     The girls just watch as you cry and try to open your locker, the junky metal giving you a hard time.

      "Uh... Y/N?" You feel a hand on your shoulder.

You collapse onto the ground, sobbing into your hand.

Immediately, your teammates crowd you, trying to console you.

"He's such a dick!"

"He doesn't deserve you anyways."

"Fuck those guys!"

You laugh, nasally, and push yourself onto the bench.

"Thanks guys, truly. You guys are my favorites."

"Of course!" Sunny smiles, rubbing a soothing hand down your back. "We love you, and we don't want to see you sad."

"Aww, I love you guys, too! You aren't going to make fun of me?"

"No. We would never do that to a friend."

You smile, and with some help, you get to standing again. You change, and you and your girls file into the gym, getting ready for the day.

As soon as you step out into the floor, though, people start laughing and pointing.

"Of course," you grumble, shaking your head.

"Why, you dick-faces! Get back to your own shit and leave Y/N alone!" You hear from across the gym.

You look over, and there stands a football player, standing tall and proud, giving you an approving look.

You nod in gratitude, smiling his way. He copies your gesture.

"Alright, ladies, let's work on receiving!"

—

Walking to your locker, you pull it open and shove your backpack in, pulling out a few books and your pencil pouch.

You look at the pictures that are pinned onto the door, sighing with a certain edge to it.

      You rip off the picture of you and Yoongi, you and Hoseok, and you and Jimin.

     You slam your locker closed and walk over to your second period, shaking your head.

      As soon as you enter the classroom, whispers are heard and you catch the eyes of everyone in the room.

     You roll your eyes and walk over to the trash can, throwing the pictures into it.

     Just breathe.

     "Alright, class, get ready for another day of learning!" The teacher walks into the room, noticing the tension between, well, you, and the rest of the class.

     "Is everything alright in here?" She asks, looking at you specifically.

     "Everything's peachy."