Min Yoongi is one of the best physiotherapists in Seoul.
Park Jimin is a young Football star with a groin injury.
They despise each other from the moment they meet. As far as Yoongi is concerned, Jimin is a rich, spoiled brat who is too used to ge...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sitting in his car, Yoongi stared at the house. There was light downstairs, but otherwise the house was dark and quiet.
It still surprised him a little how ordinary the house was. Even his own house was bigger and flashier than Jimin's.
If he hadn't known better, he would have never guessed it was a famous football player's home. Maybe that was the point, because the security measures were non-existent. But then again, if the house had better security, he wouldn't be able to watch it for half an hour like some creepy stalker.
Yoongi shook his head with a grimace. Enough.
He got out of the car and walked toward the house as drops of rain started falling from the sky. Yoongi refused to hesitate before knocking. He'd been acting ridiculously for weeks. Enough was enough.
The door opened and he tensed, but it was just Arin. "Hey." She blinked, looking at him in surprise.
"Hey. Jimin said you quit." Yoongi shook his head.
"Is he home?" She gestured upstairs. "Yeah, but I don't think it's a good idea to talk to him tonight. He's in a terrible mood." Arin made a face and stepped aside, letting him in.
"Been the entire day, actually. I had to cancel a very important press event. His PR manager is mad at me. Me, not Jimin! How is that my fault he's being a diva?"
"Has he trained today?"
"Yeah." She smiled crookedly. "But I think it was mostly to spite you and prove that he can do better without you. What did you do to piss him off so much? Made him eat too much healthy food?"
Yoongi averted his eyes. "I need to talk to him."
She gave him a sympathetic look. "Good luck with that. Lock the door after me."
"You're leaving?"
She opened the door. "I was on my way out. I've been here all day and it's ten already—thank god. I so need a break from him. I'm sure he can survive until morning without having someone at his beck and call. See you!"
Yoongi locked the door after Arin, a furrow appearing between his brows. Her words made him wonder. He had a big, boisterous family, and although all of his siblings had moved out a while ago, they still spent a great deal of time at his house.
But every time he'd seen Jimin, he was always alone. No friends or relatives ever seemed to visit him, despite his injury. Did he even have anyone? Shaking the thought off, Yoongi headed upstairs.
He wasn't here to understand the brat or feel sorry for him. You shouldn't be here at all. Yoongi took the steps slowly, his hand on the polished wooden banister, slow step after slow step. He felt a dryness in his mouth, his heart racing. The small voice in the back of his mind kept telling him that he was making a mistake.
