The Mess We've Made | Minsung

chapter twenty-nine

"So, I'm not exactly sure how to approach this.."

"Am I about to get fired?"

"What the fuck?"

"What?"

"I was going to ask you if those modeling gigs are still on the table, did you seriously think I was about to fire you?" I scoffed softly.

Nevaeh laughed at herself, "In my defense, I got fired like that once before."

"Oh? And what'd you do?" I smirked.

"I did something similar to when I accidentally got you roped into that trivia situation," Nevaeh laughed.

"It received well, that's what matters," I said to her sympathetically. "It was kind of fun too."

"So, about those modeling gigs? What changed your mind?" Nevaeh asked, opening her laptop and entering her password while still keeping eye contact.

Damn.

"I've got revenge on my mind. Do you think my image is good enough to start fucking around with my wardrobe and starting to wear more revealing shit?"

"Your image has been spotless the entire time. Nobody cares what you do," Nevaeh laughed. "The one thing that the United States actually agrees on is that there's something about you for everyone to enjoy."

"Am I okay to start taking more risks?" I asked her.

"You're known for your eccentricity, you can honestly afford to do fuck all except for be racist, transphobic, or homophobic, or any of the other 'phobics,' which, I doubt you'd ever do. You don't have any fucked up Tweets that people will inevitably dig up? You've never said any slurs, right? God, I am so sick of having to represent these horrendous motherfuckers that just think they're going to get away with everything. Please stay wholesome and unproblematic forever, okay? For me? I love you."

"I never used Twitter. I mean, I've gotten into political arguments on Instagram but the account wasn't under my name and I made sure to scrub its' existence," I chuckled. "I was raised to be socially aware at a young age. I never said shit like that. There's no evidence of the dumbest shit I've done."

"Mysterious, that's sexy," Nevaeh joked. "You're still on the page of never sharing your political status, correct?"

"For sure. You already know what I am, though," I chuckled.

"You said you have revenge on your mind. Is this about high school bullies? I've heard that a lot," Nevaeh said.

"No," I laughed. "I want to spite my boyfriend."

"That's a new one," Nevaeh inhaled sharply. "I've never managed anyone that's in a celebrity relationship. This is new territory."

"I can't leave him but he's fucking up bad so I want to teach him a lesson," I said to her. "I'm gonna do some shit that he doesn't approve of."

"What is he, your dad?" Nevaeh scoffed.

"He doesn't tell me not to do them, he just advises me and I listen because I figure he's more experienced in this department," I shrugged. "I'm not feeling like that anymore, though."

"What are you feeling?"

"I want to feel like I'm doing something I'm not supposed to be doing. I want to feel sexy and liberated. I feel like he's trying to trap me in a box without even meaning to and I don't want to feel like that. He might even be doing it intentionally for all I know. He has issues and a lot of them."

"Are you sure fucking with his head is the best idea? Why not just talk to him?"

"Minho doesn't respond to words."

"You really want to take this to the next level?" Nevaeh asked me, a small smirk creeping into her face.

"I do."

"Let's do it then."