Curly [a Kpop Fanfiction]

XXII

Minho and I woke up early to eat some hotel breakfast, it's mid but it's free. After returning to the room, I quickly go dressed for the funeral.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Minho said from his seat on the bed. I stepped into the bathroom doorway with my open mascara in hand.

"I already told you Minho, I didn't know this man, so I doubt they would want me to bring a guest to his funeral, like it's a wedding or something. Plus is that even appropriate? I haven't really been to a funeral so it's kinda new to me." He typed something on his phone before showing it to me.

"See. I googled it. It says: 'If needed for moral support, guests are acceptable to bring to a funeral'."

"Even still Minho, I think I'll be fine. Plus my mom always told me that you shouldn't just go to funerals. Death is unnatural in a perfect world and shouldn't be experienced on a regular basis." He sat on the bed looking dejected. I sighed, coming to sit next to him.

"I'll be fine Minho. You're just a phone call away. Okay?" He nodded before my phone started ringing. "It's Chelsea." I told him before picking up the phone for my half-sister.

"Hey Chelsea." I answered.

"Hi Samantha. I'm like 2 minutes from the hotel so just come out whenever you're ready." I balanced my phone between my ear and my shoulder, slipping on my shoes.

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute." I quickly ended the call.

"Alright Minho, Chelsea's downstairs so I'll have to head out in a minute. Please don't do anything that'll get you arrested while I'm gone. Do a live or something. Okay?"

"Samantha, I'm more than capable to be left in a hotel room by myself, thank you very much." He replied snarky. I playfully rolled my eyes and approached him, sitting on the edge of the bed facing him.

"Sorry, I'm aware. I'm just nervous and don't know what else to say." I sighed, looking down at my right hand and fiddling with a ring that Jisung had given me a few years back. "What if they don't like me? That's not usually a concern for me, but I am joining a family that is already established. All my siblings know each other; their fears, their likes, their ambition. I feel like I'm imposing so much." I rested my head in my hands, fighting the urge to cry. If the thing I hated most is crying in front of others, then expressing unpleasant feelings to others is second on the list. Vulnerability, as I've grown to learn about myself, is my weakness.

"Samantha, listen to me." Minho beaconed, wrapping me in a comforting embrace. "I know that you have your doubts and you overthink, but you're gonna be fine. Your rambling thoughts and nightmares you don't like telling me about, are all a product of your fear. If they didn't want you to come to the funeral, they wouldn't have been so persistent about inviting you. Okay?" He pulls away from the hug and looks me in the eyes, fact-checking the next words that come out my mouth. I nod slowly.

"Okay. Thanks Minho." I stood up, examining my outfit for the last time before grabbing my purse. "How do I look?" I asked doing a little twirl. I am wearing a black dress that stops mid-calf with mesh sleaves and black peep-toe heels. My braids are pulled tightly into a bun near the base of my neck.

"You look stunning." He says looking me up and down swiftly.

"Are the sleeves too much? Should I change?" I ask heading toward my suitcase to find another outfit. Minho stops me before I could.