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Y/N's POV
Problems upon problems. If my schedule wasn't packed enough with awards shows, concerts, brand deals, and shoots, I have another job to add to the mix. Exhausting. It's all just bling bling on the outside, but on the inside, it's a constant struggle to keep up.
And now, the cherry on top of this chaos – being an MC for the MMAs. Luckily, it's only for a short period of time. I think I can manage it. With that thought in mind, I pushed open the meeting room's door, ready to tackle whatever new challenge awaited me.
But as soon as I stepped inside, all thoughts of managing went out the window as I came face to face with the last person I expected to see – Jimin.
"Jimin?!" I exclaimed, my heart leaping into my throat as I took in his familiar face. "Y/N..." His voice was barely a whisper, but it sent a shiver down my spine, igniting a flurry of emotions within me.
We locked eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still as the weight of our past encounters hung in the air between us. Damn, he's gotten more handsome than the last time we met on the roof a few months ago...
"Y/N, you're MCing with Jimin," Daphne interjected, breaking the spell that had enveloped us. Her voice sounded awkward, and I could feel the tension in the room palpable enough to cut with a knife.
"I... I don't think my sche—" I began to protest, but before I could finish, PD-nim cut me off, his tone firm as he addressed me directly. "It's after all your shoots are over, I assume. Right, Daphne-ssi?" His words were more of a statement than a question, leaving little room for negotiation.
Daphne nodded mechanically, her movements stiff and robotic. "Oh," I mumbled, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as the reality of the situation sank in.
Daphne and the others filed out of the room one by one, leaving Jimin and me alone, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle over me. Being in such close proximity to him, knowing that we would have to work together as MCs for the MMAs, was stirring up emotions that I had long tried to bury.
Jimin lingered for a moment, his presence casting a spell over the room as he spoke softly, "Even god doesn't want you to avoid me... so don't." His words, delivered with a charming smile, sent a jolt through my veins, igniting a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within me. He's like an angel, I thought, his mere presence lighting up the room.
But even as I found myself drawn to him, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling of unworthiness that gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. It wasn't just about being colleagues or acquaintances. I felt undeserving of his friendship, his attention, his affection... certainly not as a significant other...
As Jimin turned to leave, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room, I couldn't help but whisper, "I don't think I can..."
The truth was, I didn't know if I could handle being so close to him, working alongside him, pretending as though the feelings I harbored for him didn't exist. I was afraid of what might happen if I let my guard down, if I allowed myself to truly open up to him. And yet, the thought of pushing him away, of denying myself the chance to be near him, was equally unbearable.
I was caught in a tangled web of emotions, torn between the desire to protect myself and the longing to be close to him. And as I stood there in the empty meeting room, the weight of my conflicting emotions pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket.
I stood alone in the empty meeting room, grappling with my turbulent emotions, a sense of desperation washed over me. I knew that I couldn't face this alone – I needed help, guidance, someone to steer me through the stormy waters of my conflicted heart.
With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed a familiar number, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for the call to connect. "I need help," I spoke into the receiver, my voice trembling with emotion.
On the other end of the line, a series of hushed whispers and murmurs filled the air as my request echoed through the phone. I could hear the sound of hurried footsteps and rustling papers as my message was relayed to those who could offer assistance.
Only they can help me now, I thought, my stomach churning with a mixture of fear and anticipation. I had reached a point of no return, and I knew that I couldn't navigate this treacherous path alone. With my fate hanging in the balance, I awaited their response, hoping against hope that they would come to my aid before it was too late.
