Double Life

Left Hand

Flashback

"No, you did.  You worked differently and came from a different place, but it doesn't matter."

I give his shoulder a squeeze, now standing in front of him with something I should've learned a lot sooner.  Humility.

"I'm sorry, and it's not the first sorry I have to say.  Can I borrow your phone?"

"I'll do you one better."

"I needed to make a phone call not go shopping."

     I mutter, sulking behind Suho as we finally reach the Apple Store, where I'm gifted the IPhone X.  I force myself not to mutter that I like Samsung better. I grudging take the ridiculously expensive phone, putting it in the pocket of my jeans.

"Thank you."

I grumble, dragging my feet as we head out.

"Grey, it's not all about you."

     Suho says as we walk back out to the car, the cold air already clinging to the leather seats once we get in.  I point all the air vents at me and blast the heat, my hands frozen stiff.

"I know it's not about me Suho, it's about money and productivity and public image."

     He sighs before pulling out of the parking space, the loud noise coming from the left tire telling me we have a bearing loose.  The radio ironically plays a song we just released and Suho tunes it out with a sort of, anger.  The station he flicks to is playing a song I wrote and I turn it completely off, frustrated.

"You think about all those things but you only think about how they relate to you, your money, your publicity, your image."

"Bullshit, I'm thinking about everyone!  I've had to think about everyone my whole life, it's not a new concept."

"Oh sure, you've had to think about how others can bring you up or bring you down, you're more self centered than you think."

I scoff, glaring at him for being so rude.

"Didn't I already apologize for being a dick?  I don't need it shoved in my face again, I know I've fucked up."

"Grey you know that's not what I'm getting at.  You've lived for yourself, by yourself, and now you're being expected to flip into working with a team-"

"I was the band manager in Bangtan for their entire beginning career, they wouldn't have gotten anywhere without me.  I wrote every damn track, they're still using my lyrics."

"That's what I mean, you're still living by yourself even though they're trying to do the exact opposite."

"They stole my work!"

I spit out, slamming my fist on the dash.

"Yeah?  Well I'm pretty sure you stole  their hearts when you left!  Did you ever think about how you wrenched a part of their family away from them when you left?  Did you even think?  Did you think about how they're using whatever scraps of words you left behind as a way to cope with losing someone they were all in love with? You never thought!!" 

"Of course I FUCKING did!"

"THEN WHY DID YOU FUCKING LEAVE GREY?!"

He shouts, a car horn blaring at us when we speed through the yellow light intersection.  He pulls over, shaking.  I scoff at him, cussing under my breath.

"I left because-"

"It doesn't matter, you're gonna do whatever you want in the end like you always do."

"Of course it fucking matters!"

"Can you get over it!  Can you get over someone stealing your stupid lyrics they're just words!"

And I almost break the handle of the car door getting out, slamming it and walking away.  I take the phone and call the one asshole I still trust.

"Call me back fucker."

     I say to his message machine before hanging up and calling someone else to pick me up.  They weren't just lyrics, they were some of the last things my lover wrote before he died, a book of words he wrote and I wrote and we wrote together.  If I hadn't lost the ring he gave me in the river I'd still have it on my left hand.  We got married in the dustiest old church by a priest that could barely stand to give his speech.  All I had left were those lyrics and poems and love letters.  Lovesick bullshit about our DNA and how our love was like a house of cards.  They're songs we wrote at 2 A.M. together about the stupidest shit before making out and being so damn in love that I almost killed myself in the hours after he died.  They're all I had left, and now those words are being used as a publicity stunt and a comeback trailer and if I'd just step out into traffic right now it's all be over.  The stupid phone starts to ring and I spit out a string of curse words before a gravely voice returns my spite in full force.

"shut up you fucking bastard who doesn't give a shit about anything any more and tell me what the fucking hell is going on and why after almost four fucking years you called my number with nothing to say but to ask me to fucking call you for some bull shit."

"I'm sorry Yoongi."

evaloveschoco for first vote!!

It bothers me how so many of my chapters are indented like I was taught my entire life and now none of my paragraphs are and can y'all please decide which looks best so it's not such a mess haha, and this chapter?  I've been waiting since chapter one to let this secret out.  Let me know in the comments if your theories ever matched up! 

Be safe everyone, watch when you're driving, check in on family, all that Good.

~Ren