Our Fate Written In The Lines (Suga BTS)

Chapter 2

"I'm just so done!" Celeste slammed her locker. I was leaning against the lockers next to hers listening to her complain about an ex-friend of ours. "Lola is such an attention-seeker, I swear!"

"Celeste―" I start.

"No, Rachel, just don't. I know it's been months, but unlike you I cared about Lola. But she chose fucking," She kicked the locker, "Matthew over me." What happened to the "us"?

Celeste walked away with her arms crossed down the hallway. I quickly hurried after her but was stopped by the drama teacher.

"Hey, Rachel!" she smiled.

"Hey, Mrs. Knapp," I replied while nervously watching Celeste stomp away.

Oh God, not now. "Are you planning are doing the play this year?"

"It's not a musical?" I asked, slightly heartbroken.

"No, we've decided to just do a play this year instead of a musical. We've done a musical every year for the past ten years," Mrs. Knapp explained.

"Then, I guess no," I smiled, sadly and started walking down the hall again.

"You could still do backstage staff!" Mrs. Knapp called after me.

"I'm fine. Thanks!" I called back, hurrying after Celeste.

The doors opened to the bright sunlight of lunch time. I lost Celeste around the time Mrs. Knapp started talking to me. I was so tired from drama and my friends. I just wanted to be alone at this point. Negative people are so draining. Stop being a horrible friend. You would want their affection if you were angry and sad like they are. Celeste is right you never really cared about Lola. You don't understand.

I walked over to the football field where I was yesterday and walked alongside the fence, running my hand along the wire. The clatter filling my ears. It was horrible sound.

I was surprised to see the notebook still there and honestly til this day I'm not sure why. It wasn't that surprising. Things get forgotten and end up in the lost and found all the time. But somehow seeing the notebook again was strange to me.

Without hesitation I hopped over the fence that was left locked and went over to the black notebook, feeling the hard leather against my hands. I opened the notebook and looked at the first page. My eyes widened in disbelief.

I looked at the first page and saw, written in the same blue pen, a different person's handwriting.

My name is Yoongi and I'm tired.

The owner of the book had replied to what I wrote and left the notebook there with a pen for me to reply back. This is crazy. It's like an anime or something. I didn't know what to reply. What do you reply to someone who you've never met except through a notebook you found forgotten on the side of a football field? Exactly.

I clicked the pen and began to write back.

Why are you tired?