Once a best friend! || ft. Park Jimin [PJM] { Completed }

Chapter 32 : Beaten-up ( SEVENTY TWO HOURS POST BREAKUP)

//Prolog Continue//

⚜️ BACK TO PRESENT ⚜️

( SEVENTY TWO HOURS POST BREAKUP)

Jimin P.O.V

Jihyun: FUCK YOU. We're over.

Jihyun: Do not ever call me again.

Jihyun: THIS is ME breaking up with you since you didn't have the balls to be honest and take responsibility for what is 100% your fault.

Okay, maybe I made the wrong decision.

My chest felt as if someone had set it on fire, and my pillow kept attracting some type of wet spot on it every night.

"Taylor!" I called out for my housekeeper.
"Yes, Mr. Park?"
"It rained in here last night, didn't it?"
"No, sir. It doesn't typically rain indoors." She looked confused.

"There's a first time for everything." I picked up the pillow and tossed it to her, "Can you take this down with you to the laundry? I think it got rained on."

"You were crying, sir."
"So, you agree that it was raining." I picked up my phone, and she rolled her eyes. I waited for the door to close before scrolling down to Jihyun's name.

I was tempted to hit call, but I held back. Since I knew her down to her marrow, I was well aware that there was no need to initiate any conversations. At some point today, she would start calling to leave angry breakup voicemails. Despite all the lessons I'd taught her over the years, she still had mastering that particular one. Before I could consider a better move, the doorbell sounded.

"I'm coming, Taylor." I groaned, knowing she'd locked herself out again. I swung the door and found myself face to face with Namjoon instead.

"Damn! You look like shit." he said.
"Thank you, Namjoon. You looked like shit not too long ago."
"You're welcome. Who died?"
"No one. I thought you were my housekeeper." I ushered him inside.

"Oh. I just ran into her on the elevator." He placed his hands on my shoulders, "Seriously. Who died? Tell me."

"No one. I broke up with the woman I was seeing."
"How shocking." He laughed, but I didn't join in like usual. It took him a while to realize there was nothing funny about this, "Have you been fucking crying?"

"No. Taylor used some new cleaning supplies that I'm allergic to, that's all."
"Want to talk about it?" he asked.
Not with you. "Not really." I walked over to my liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of vodka. I needed to change the subject. Fast.
"Is your agent working on a new date for the trilogy yet?" I asked.
"After all the drug tests come back. You're scaring me, man. I'm not used to you showing any emotion when it comes to supermodels like Anya Sterling." He leaned against the bar.