What If (What if I loved you)

Chapter 6

WARNING:

This chapter may trigger some people. It highlights the difficulty of anxiety and moments of self arms are present. If you are young or are triggered by this kind of subject, I advise you to go on to the next chapter.

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"When I'm with you, the noise of the world fades, and all I hear is the tranquillity of your heartbeat" - Unknown

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I can't believe I'm on my way to Paris for Fashion Week with Jake. Being invited as Celine's global ambassador is a dream come true for him, and I couldn't be happier to accompany him as the group's translator. He asked the agency for me to come with him because he said his English was a bit broken, that he could understand it fine but that he had difficulty speaking it because he hardly ever uses it now that he lives in Korea. I don't think that's the case and I don't think the agency does either, but they don't want him to be uncomfortable, so here I am with him in a van, my passport in hand. Even though I'm not the biggest fashion fan, I've never had the chance to go to Paris before. I've heard that France is an undeniably beautiful country, and that its capital is certainly one of the greatest cities in the world, so I'm so excited to have the chance to go.

As we sit in the van, on the way to the airport, Jake and I can't help but laugh at a hilarious montage of HyunKi that's been making rounds on social media. In the video, they've edited him to look bald, almost like an egg. It's a welcome change from his usual uptight look.

"HyunKi's really embracing the egghead' aesthetic," I say, wiping away tears of amusement. "I hope he's taking it in good humour."
"Yeah, it's good to see him letting loose for once," Jake replies, still grinning. "He's always so... Him"
Jake and I share a chuckle, our laughter filling the van.

"Yeah, I see what you mean"

"You know he... "

Just as Jake's about to speak, he's cut off unconsciously by high-pitched screams that grows louder and closer, signalling the presence of eager fans approaching our van. I glance out the window and see a frenzy of faces, camera phones flashing and banners waving, all converging on us at breakneck speed. Panic coils within me like a venomous snake, and my heart begins to race erratically.
In the past, I've attended events with "The Lost Heirs," but they were always meticulously planned and controlled. This chaotic, spontaneous rush of fans is a different beast altogether, and it's overwhelming. The sense of control I usually have is replaced by a sense of helplessness, and I can feel the edges of a panic attack encroaching on my consciousness. My breathing becomes shallow, and I can barely catch a decent breath.
Jake, however, is quick to sense my distress. He places a comforting hand on my shoulder, his voice a soothing balm.

"Hey, Kit, take deep breaths, okay? Inhale slowly, count to four, hold for four, and then exhale for four. You've got this."

His calm demeanour, his gentle guidance, and the warmth of his hand on my chest help me regain a semblance of control. I focus on his words and follow his breathing exercises, the rhythm of our breaths gradually syncing. My panic recedes, and I can finally breathe more steadily.
"Remember what we talked about, Kit. You don't have to be afraid of your anxieties. They're just passing storms. And after every storm, something positive comes out of it."

Tears well up in my eyes as I listen to Jake's comforting words, and I find myself trembling in his embrace. It's an unusual vulnerability for me to experience in front of someone that is my friends but that I also barely know, but in this moment, it feels right. Jake doesn't shy away; instead, he pats my back gently, providing a comforting presence. Even though I realize the awkwardness of the situation, I don't immediately break away from Jake's comforting embrace. His heartbeat reverberates beneath his steady chest, a rhythm that feels strangely familiar and reassuring. His arms around me, his heartbeat syncing with mine, create a cocoon of safety that I haven't felt in years. It's as if, in that moment, the world outside the van ceases to exist, and I'm enveloped in a sanctuary of calm.

Jake's voice, soft and gentle, breaks the silence. "It's alright, Kit. Take your time. Don't rush yourself."

His words act like a lifeline, grounding me in reality. I find solace in his acceptance, in the absence of judgment. His touch, his presence, somehow give me the strength to face my vulnerabilities head-on. My breathing gradually steadies, the erratic beats of my heart aligning with the comforting cadence of Jake's. For a moment, I let go of my inhibitions and allow myself to be held, to be vulnerable.