Awkward | BTS ✓

19

After a long, non-productive day yesterday of sneezing, Benadryl and throwing things at Namjoon for telling me to stop sneezing because it was "annoying," I've finally fully come back to my senses.

My phone rings and I see that it's Namjoon.

I sigh and answer the call, immediately assuming he's accidentally blown up his apartment or something.

"What did you do?" I ask through a yawn.

"What? Nothing. I just wanted to call and let you know that I can't come hang out today because I'm very, very busy with stuff and things," he says in a hushed voice.

"Why are you whispering?" I ask, raising my eyebrow suspiciously.

"Oh, I have to go do stuff. And uh, things. Buh-bye," he says and immediately hangs up.

I shrug my shoulders. He's definitely doing something weird, but I can't be bothered to figure it out because then I'll get dragged into his nonsense yet again, and I don't want another bloody nose.

After showering and changing right back into pajamas, I walk to the kitchen and groan in annoyance when I see the mountain of dishes in my sink.

After contemplating whether or not I should just throw all of the dishes away and get new ones, I roll my sleeves up on my pajama shirt and hastily stack the dirty dishes onto the counter before filling one side of the sink with soap and water.

I take my ring off and go to place it on the windowsill above my sink, but my clumsy fingers accidentally drop it before it can reach its destination, and it falls straight down the drain of the empty side of the sink.

"Well, shit," I say.

I wouldn't have cared if it was any other piece of jewelry, but I like that ring. I won it in a drawing at work and it was the first time I'd actually had good luck in so long. Besides, if you look at the gem close enough, it kind of looks like a boob.

"I'll save you, booby ring," I say to myself and then cringe.

After reaching my hand down the drain, I feel around in the filth and gag.

"This is unpleasant," I say as I feel around the slimy drain for my ring. My fingers finally enclose around it and I yell out in victory, but my yell of victory quickly turns into one of terror when I realize that my hand is not coming out of this drain.

I'm stuck in the sink with my booby ring.

I roll my eyes and try to reach for my phone, but I realize I left it in my bedroom.

And then I try to yell for help, but then I remember that my neighbor is never home on Sundays. I have no idea what she does, but she's always gone on Sundays from sunrise until late that night, and she always comes back smelling like bleach.

That probably means she either does her laundry on Sundays or she's a serial killer who cleans up her messes with bleach.

Whatever. I don't judge.

"What now?" I ask myself as I stand with one hand stuck in the sink's drain and the other one resting sassily on my hip.

"Crap. Guess I'll just die," I say, huffing out in annoyance.

I begin to pass the time by thinking about what my funeral will be like.

"If someone puts my dead ass body in a dress, I'll turn into a zombie and bite their face off," I conclude angrily. "I only wear dresses to work. I'll be damned if I'm going to be buried in one."

My stomach grumbles and I wipe a fake tear away from my face. "I'm already starving to death. It's been hours."

I glance over at the clock on my kitchen wall and I realize it's only been five minutes.

I try again to wriggle my hand free of the confines of the drain, but it won't budge. I might be able to slide free if I let my ring go, but if the booby ring is meant to die today, then so am I.

It only takes five more minutes for me to abandon my ring since I'm hungry and I know for a fact that I have a Snickers bar stashed away in my cabinet, just out of my reach.

I let the ring go and pull on my arm with my free hand, but my hand only moves about an inch before it gets stuck again.

"This is karma for letting my ring stay in this nasty drain so I could save myself," I say, facepalming.

There's a knock on the door and I jump, yowling out in pain as I feel a painful pop in my wrist.

Great. My hand is going to pop right off my arm now.

"Isla? Are you okay?" I hear Namjoon ask through the door and I nearly jump for joy before remembering that my hand is in fact stuck in the drain and if I jump again, I won't have my favorite hand anymore.

"Namjoon, help! My hand is stuck in the drain!" I yell and then I hear those words.

Those dreaded words that nearly send me to my grave every time he says them because he always does something questionable after he says them.

"I'LL SAVE YOU!" He screeches before I hear a loud thud followed by another thud and a groan.

"I tried to ram the door down, but it didn't work and now my shoulder hurts. Isla, help me! I'm hurt!" He cries and I roll my eyes.

"Namjoon, I cannot help you. I'm stuck, as I already said," I say as calmly as I can, fighting the urge to hulk out and throw my entire kitchen sink at the man outside my door. "And by the way, the door is unlocked."

"Oh," I hear him say quietly as he opens the door.

After a few minutes of playing tug of war with the sink, my hand finally slides out with a nasty film covering it.

"Nope. Not dealing with this. Just cut my hand off," I say, scrunching up my nose in disgust.

"You're so overdramatic," Namjoon says, rolling his eyes.

I scoff. "Says the man who rammed his body into my UNLOCKED door."

"About that," he says slowly. "I may have put a large crack in your door with my shoulder."

I roll my eyes. "Of course you did."