Chapter 22

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Hwayoung

Let me just say something. There must be something extremely wrong with me to set an alarm at 6am. Giving me only 4 hours of actually sleep. I tumbled and turned in my bed, groaning and sighing. This was the worst when you're tired but you don't have a comfortable position. I eventually get up and slip on the random shirt I saw on the chair, pretty show it's not even mine. Jungkook soft snores was heard when he turned over. The fact that Jungkook still liked Jimin was not a surprise but I am still confused on why they broke up. I mean why couldn't Jungkook stand up for himself.

I grabbed my phone of the counter and headed down, towards the kitchen. A soft aroma of coffee or was it hot chocolate? Could be smelt. The gentle sips of someone, standing back against the sink. A member that I do not know the name of. He stared at me and as if a button was pushed. Reacted in disgust and he turned around.

I scanned the kitchen again. There was a camera, balanced in the top shelf, hidden from the public's eye and barely visible if you hadn't intentionally looked for it. The guy in front of me, was a good actor if I say so myself. He didn't show any sigh of regret or was it his true emotions?

"Are you going to keep staring at me, or actually do something?" He grunted, turning to face me again. A light evil smile on his face. I tilted my head.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't tell me you forgot" he said, stepping towards me. "The trash has to do all the chores, otherwise, he's trash"

"That's okay, I don't mind being trash" I shrugged.

He stared at me in confusion. As if he didn't expected me to say anything at all.

"Being trash is not that bad." I continued.

He laughed at me. A little too hard cause I think he started crying a bit.

"I think" He started. He stepped a little bit closer before a loud crash was heard from one of the rooms and to follow that was a shout or a scream, it sounded like it was Jungkook's. The guy and I both turn to each and other and laughed. Jungkook just fell off the top bunk.

The steady lender of a camera staring at us and a tsk coming from the person watching it.

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