Techni-Color | YoonMin

Chapter 22

I slam the door, a shower of paint chips falling to the floor before me.

"Stupid, Yoongi! Stupid! Stupid!" I yell, pacing back and forth. I kick out, my foot hitting the wall and leaving a small dent. A little of my anger drains away at the sight of it, stopping me mid-pace. Groaning, I flop back onto the bed, a cloud of dust flying up around me. I should be grossed out, but right now I just can't bring myself to care. My thoughts are too far away, stuck on a small, mint-haired man that is too stubborn for his own good.

The thought of him brings my anger back and I reach out, plucking a pillow from the top of the bed. I sit up slowly, holding it in front of my face, careful not to let it to close. "Why do you do this to me, Yoongi?" I ask the pillow, pretending that it could actually answer me back.

"Because I'm stupid, Jimin," I make my voice deeper, mocking Yoongi, as I make the pillow dance around. Feeling silly, I toss the pillow to the ground and let myself fall back onto the bed.

"Why do I care so much anyway?" I ask the empty room, my voice echoing back to me in the silence. "I barely know him. Can't I just walk away? Hoseok can have him." I roll over, my gaze landing on my reflection in the mirror across from me. "I know," I say to my reflection, his mouth following my own, "just the thought pisses me off. There's no way I could actually let Hoseok have him, right?" My eyes stare back at me, sadness in their brown depths. Unable to look at them anymore, I roll back onto my back and stare up at the ceiling.

"What am I saying? Yoongi isn't mine to claim. If he doesn't want to be with me, then that's just how it is!" I exclaim, appalled at my controlling behavior. "I used to be so certain of myself, so confident," I say, laughing. "Now look at me! Talking to myself in a crappy motel room!"

I sit up quickly, the room spinning. Once it settles, I stand, making my way to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I glare at my reflection. With my hair disheveled and reddened cheeks, I look like a mess.

"Get a hold of yourself," I say, before taking a step back. I want to take a shower, to let the hot water work out all the soreness in my legs from running, but one glance at the moldy shower has me rethinking the idea. Rather than open myself up to whatever diseases may be in there, I decide to go back to the room. I sit on the bed, sliding until my back is against the wall. I pull my phone out, opening it to my saved part in The Legendary Moonlight Sculptor. I sigh, letting myself get lost in the words.

~~

A shrill ringing fills the room, jolting me from my book. I look around for the source, my eyes coming to land on the small black phone beside the bed. I pick it up, placing it to my ear as the sound of music and voices assaults my ear.

"Hello?" I ask hesitantly, unsure of who would be calling.

"Is this Jimin?" a gruff voice asks me.

"Jiminnnn," I hear a voice calling in the background.

"Uh, yeah. That's me."

"Great. You're friend's down here, drunk off his ass. We're about to close. Come get him," he demands before hanging up on me, not even waiting for my answer.

"Yeah, I guess I'll just do that," I say bitterly, slamming the phone down on the receiver. I stand, letting my muscles stretch out after sitting in the same spot for so long. I shove my feet back into my shoes, grumbling the whole time.

"Stupid, Yoongi. Can't even drink right."

I open the door, the cool night air wrapping around me like a soft caress. I sigh and look around for the bar. My eyes land on a blue neon sign, the flickering letters reading "BAR". I make my way toward it, preparing my best lecture for when I saw Yoongi. I'd tell him how much a fool he was to just get super drunk out in the middle nowhere. How childish it is to run away in the middle of a fight, that he should learn to stay and talk like a grown man. Instead he chooses to run, just like a-