A Million Dirty Secretes

13. I Feel Froggy

Jisoo

I left work early. I just couldn't do it; I couldn't sit there acting like everything was fine, conducting business as usual when what we were doing was anything but.

"Yo, Crawford." Yoongi stopped me as I made my way toward the outer office door. "You heading out? What's up?"

Yeah, I probably should've told my assistant something, right? Everything in my goddamn head was a jumbled mess and getting messier by the second. Un-fucking-usual.

"Just send my calls to my voice mail. I'm checking out for the day. And if anyone asks, you don't know where I'm going."

"But I don't know where you're going."

"Exactly."

I turned on my heel and continued on my way, ignoring Yoongi's "Is everything okay?" No, everything was not okay. And no, I didn't want to talk about it. I just wanted to wallow in my own guilt for a while and then figure a way out of this mess.

I knew there was only one place where I was ever going to get the peace and serenity I needed to sort this shit out, and I wasn't going to let any Chatty Cathies delay me. Which meant I had to be rude, and I was ... to several employees. But you know what? I didn't give a good goddamn if they felt slighted because I didn't smile politely when they asked how I was doing and give them a superficial "Fine, fine. And you?" I didn't fucking care how they were, or that little Johnny had a snotty nose, or that Susie made the cheerleading squad, or even that Bob finally got that promotion. I didn't fucking care.

I made my way out of the building and jumped into the first cab that answered my hail, because no way was I going to hitch a ride with Yoongi. I didn't want anyone to know where I was. Was it irresponsible of me not to tell someone? Probably, but again, I didn't fucking care.

I flipped a fifty over the seat to the driver and said, "Sunset Memorial."

"Sure thing. Say, aren't you that Kim kid?"

"Nope. Must have me confused with someone else." I sighed as I sat back in the seat. Of course he knew I was full of shit. He'd just picked me up in front of the very same building "that Kim kid" owned, for Christ's sake. So it was his fault that I had to lie to him. He shouldn't have asked such a stupid question.

Before long, the heavy traffic of downtown Chicago faded from view and the sun broke through the cloud-laden sky. It was odd to see the rays streaking down through the minuscule opening, especially when the clouds surrounding them looked like they were about to pour down rain at any second, but it soothed me a tiny bit when I followed the beams straight down to the place where I was headed.

The Kim crypt.

Well, I suppose mausoleum was the correct term, but crypt just sounded better. Either way, it was the final resting place for the only two people who had ever really gotten me, who had loved me for who I was. And one of them was probably going to walk out of that thing to smack me in the back of the head for what I had become.

"You want me to wait?" the cabby asked when he stopped at the walkway at the bottom of the hill that led to my family's burial ground.

"Nah. I'm good," I answered.

"Are you sure? Looks like it could start raining anytime now."

"All the better," I mumbled, then stepped out. Torrential rain would match the way I felt on the inside perfectly, anyway.

"Well, I wouldn't feel right leaving you out here by yourself without at least a little something to warm your bones," the cabby said as he reached across the seat and handed me a brown paper bag with an unopened bottle of Jose Cuervo inside. My father's favorite—how ironic.