Decoupled • KTH ✔

Chapter 9

Taehyung

Today, Areum has gone for a sleepover at one of her ballet classmate's house, and so I'm free to watch my favorite show on Netflix that has been rated 16+ for violence and substance.

When she's around, I wouldn't be able to watch anything except Disney princesses, and that too only during the screen-time that Jang-Mi has allotted for her.

What better way to relax on a Saturday night than with Netflix, a can of cold beer and a huge ass sandwich that's stacked high with delicious slices of turkey and dripping with my favorite sauces.

It feels like a luxury to be a couch potato.

As I stuff my mouth with a big bite of the sandwich, I take in the flavors with my eyes closed, and a sound similar to that of a moan escapes my mouth while every muscle in my body relaxes as I keep chewing the food.

When my eyes open, they stay on the TV screen for a mere few seconds after which they get drawn to my phone's screen which suddenly lights up with an incoming email.

Quickly placing the sandwich on the wrapper, I lick my fingers clean and wipe them on the fabric of my sweatpants before opening up the email from my next potential employer.

My heart races even before the contents of the email could load on the screen, but once it does, everything around me seems to come to a halt when I read the first few lines.

My heart deflates rapidly within my chest—like an old balloon that is pricked with a pin—with every word that I read and re-read.

The interview went well, so why the hell am I rejected?

I didn't even have my hopes up in the clouds until they shortlisted me for the HR interview and sent me the terms and conditions email a few days ago, and then they do me dirty after everything?

Just fucking brilliant!!

What the hell do I do now about the resignation?

Shit! I'd be a pathetic unemployed man in a few more days.

As if on cue, Jang-Mi's voice sounds from the balcony where she is watering the potted plants,
"What happened to the new job that you applied for? Any reply yet?" She peeps in from the doorway, and my eyes briefly flick to look at her before I toss the phone in my hand onto the coffee table.

I knew that she would remember it perfectly.

"What happened?" She walks in from the balcony, placing the spray can on the dining table as she stands a few feet away from the couch while I remain dead silent.

"Let me guess, you got rejected, isn't it?" The arrogance and sarcasm in her tone is making my nerves burn with rage.

"Yeah, so what now?" I scoff angrily, trying my best not to raise my voice at her.

"What so what? Didn't you say you'd be selected for sure? Then how did this happen?" She plants her hands on her hips and questions me.

I hate it that she demands answers from me. I hate being answerable, and even more when she makes me feel small and points her fingers at me.

Damn it! Can't she say a few comforting words when I'm handling rejection?

"I don't know what went wrong," I answer in a surprisingly calm tone and get up from the couch to leave the place and discontinue the discussion to prevent it from erupting into something bigger.

"What reason did they state? You even resigned your current job hoping to get through with this one."

"Yeah, I did," I keep my voice and my head low, counting within my mind to calm down and not lose my cool.