"Not again!" An enraged scowl found itself deeply embedded on his face as he took fiery steps through the hallway.
Sending a threatening glare down at the paper he was holding, he had to contain his rage to prevent himself from crumbling up the white sheet marked with an ugly 'F' on top in sloppy red handwriting.
"I don't think professor Bardot likes you very much." A very familiar voice chimes in, after getting a peek over the brunette's shoulder.
"You don't say." His eyebrows are now nearly entangled in each other, close to swapping sides completely and inevitably bound to leave a deep semi-permanent rimple on his forehead for the next couple of minutes being.
"Alright, Taehyung, this won't do any longer." The aforementioned finally glanced upwards, sending a shiver down the other man's spine.
He visibly shuddered, coughing once.
"Drop the glare or I'm afraid I'm going to drop dead."
Exhaling loudly, Taehyung's nostrils flare up. Pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, he sighed out, "Okay, I'm listening. What were you saying?"
"I've told you this a hundred times already, but just drop the subject. It'll make your life so m─"
"Namjoon, I've answered you this a hundred times already, no. I can't. Anderson has made it very clear that I either graduate with at least a 'B', or I can kiss my job goodbye." The man interrupts, finding it useless for him to continue.
"Yeah, I still don't quite get that." The blonde frowns.
"Hell, I still don't either! But I certainly don't want to give up on it because of the salary I'm getting out of it. By the way─"
This time it's Namjoon who interjects, "Hey, it's half past one. Aren't you supposed to be on your way?"
Taehyung's eyes widen, "Fuck, I'm going to be late!" He hastily checks if he has all of his belongings with him and flings his coat over his shoulder. Speed-walking away, he changes his mind a second or three later and speed-walks back towards his friend who's watching him with lips pressed together in fine lines.
"Here." Taehyung deadpans, scurrying away immediately after handing the other the reason of his anger.
"Please discard it for me! Completely destroy it!" The brunette voices from the other end of the corridor, his rage still prominent.
The blonde blinks. Once, twice, thrice, then finally casts his orbs downwards and slowly crumbles the piece of paper up in his hand.
Rushing through the doors, Taehyung flinched hearing them accidentally slam close behind him. He mutters profanities at himself whilst he sprints towards his college's parking lot, stopping absurdly quick in his tracks once he reached the spot.
Where did he park his car again?
Cursing ten times harder now, he frantically struts down every lane looking left and right, but to avail. Glancing at the time on his phone, he can feel sweatbeads forming on his forehead.
Turning on his heels, he makes a typical U-turn and once again attempts to find─
He stops in his tracks again at a newfound realisation.
"The hell? I came by bike today."
While mocking himself and trying to block out his absurd stress and anger because today is just not his day, he makes a run for it.
After what feels like way too long, he finally turned on the road and started pedalling like his life depended on it.
His exhales came out in short, ragged puffs of air and at some point they were on the brink of turning painful due to how dry his throat became.
Hyperventilating by the time he saw a familiar shop come in view, he didn't waste any more time and discarded the piece of metal with wheels to the side like it belonged on a scrapyard.
Taking hasty steps forward, he reached up a hand to brush it through his hair and took a few deep breaths in, in attempt to calm down his breathing and rapid beating heart.
He turns around the corner with his eyes averted downwards, taking a mental note of the fact that his shoelaces were untied whilst his arm already extended and his hand attempted to reach for a familiar door handle subconsciously.
And as if he was on full autopilot─ his brain did not register that his hand did in fact not manage to take a hold of the handle causing him to look stupid 'opening a door,' that obviously wasn't going to open but his feet and body were still moving.
And finally, he glances up, only to slam face-first into glass.
The embarrassing loud thud caused customers from the inside to turn their heads, all wierdly staring at the individual who was glued frozen to the door in shame.
After six awfully long seconds he peels himself off, feeling his skin unstick from the material.
Coughing awkwardly, he fixes his attire and this time around opens the door successfully, stepping inside and quickly dashing around the corner to hide in the staff room with a very painful nose and a very bruised ego.
"Ah, Taehyung! There you are. A bit late, aren't you?" An older voice grumbles out.
The aforementioned didn't want to turn around but since he had no other option, he did.
In view comes a familiar older man. A wild tuft of grey hair on his head, an eyebrow quirked up causing his extremely receded hairline to stand out even more. Wrinkles all over his skin and his eyebags the size Taehyung bets his own are going to be once this day is over.
The man looks like he's refraining himself. His orbs withhold an off-putting glare and the brunette swore he could see his eye twitch. The closer he looks, the more he can see steam radiating off of him because he is pissed.
That older man is no one other than Anderson─ the little ray of sunshine he is. Also know as 'the-reason-my-friend-is-torturing-himself-over-a-subject-he-sucks-at' by Namjoon.
"My apologies, sir, this won't happen again. I can guarantee you that. I was late because of college─"
"Oh, right. You got another result back today, didn't you? What was your score?" Anderson crossed his arms, taking a step closer.
"Well.." Taehyung clears his throat, debating on whether to lie to his face or to tell him the truth.
"I kind of.. failed .. the test?"
It was silent for a moment.
Then, the man wordlessly lifted his arm and pointed his hand behind him.
"Out, Taehyung."
The boy froze. No, that can't be. Did he hear that right?
"W─what?" Taehyung blinks, letting the words sink in before hastly adding, "No, I'm sorry! I'll do better! Professor Bardot just hates me, I'll ask for a switch so─"
"That's the exact same thing you said four professors back. It's not going to work. I made my new rule very clear, everyone I hire must be able to handle it smoothly. Otherwise I can't give you a spot here. You're fired, Taehyung."
And just like that, the boy finds himself outside absolutely despising this day with every single fibre of his being.
Turning around the corner to get to his bike, he finds himself actually wanting to scream out at the world once he crashes into yet again, another solid thing.
But this time, it wasn't glass.
It was a chest.
YOU ARE READING
Growing Fangs ✓
Fanfiction[ᴀ ᴛᴀᴇᴋᴏᴏᴋ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ] In which Taehyung has spent his entire life in a repetitive and tedious cycle, until he suddenly stumbles upon a new face in town and something within him awakes. It was right then and there his life wasn't ordinary any long...
