"Thanks for picking me up."
"Yeah."
The guy I've been sleeping with for the past few weeks says as I get out of the car.
"Don't call me again, yah?"
He says, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke my way.
"Funny, I was going to say the same thing. Have a good one Mate."
I say, trying not to slam the door. I'm still pissed at Yoongi and Suho and anyone else who thinks I'm some good for nothing...I don't even know what they think of me, really. I've never really cared to think about it. My own thoughts drive me crazy as I walk the last five or six blocks back to the building, one glance at the tabloids shows me that rumors about my gender have far from died down, but instead are being blown out of control. The headline reads "Obsessive fan girl turns transgender to become part of hit band EXO."
I turn the phone right off, I couldn't give less of a shit about what they're saying about me now.
The back door still creaks just as bad as when I first came here, the massive flight of stairs upwards seeming daunting. We're K-Pop idols for Christ sake, can we not get a working elevator in the back entrance? Both buildings have this, ridiculous stair case, that right now I can barely fathom climbing. Frick, I'm going to be coughing like a smoker by the time I reach the dorm. As I trudge upwards the banging of my feet echoes, chatter from the other dorms filtering under door ways if the music isn't blasting louder than anything else. Why do people glorify this life so much? You just end up with body issues, sore joints from dancing, and a life long invasion of privacy.
About a floor away from finally being at our dorm I decide to jog, I just need to get up these stairs, I'm having a hard time breathing. The metal stairs are all relatively safe, but I don't see one in the last turn, it's been bent and torn in the center. My broken heel on the cheap boots I'm wearing catches on the mangled metal, pulling my ankle out of joint and sending me crashing down like a broken doll. My back hits the wall knocking the air and a pained cry out of me, my foot twisted sideways and the skin off my arm torn up all the way to my shoulder. I grit my teeth and take off the other shoe, leaving the one in the metal there and throwing the other one into the trash can in the hallway. Barefoot now I limp to the door, letting out a loud curse when I find it lock and start banging my fist on it. I will not cry. I won't.
Yoongi opens the door and I fall onto him, and immediately start bawling.
"Idiot."
He mutters.
"Sorry."
I choke out, before being picked up with a grunt and complaint, the door kicked closed before I'm carried to the couch. The same old ratty couch I dragged in when money was tight and made everyone duck tape it together as we tried to get the garbage stink out. They never got rid of it. Not even after four years. It's still here. I don't stop crying nonstop for the next half an hour, and before long Yoongi is also crying with me in between fits of us yelling at each other and muttering apologies. It's good to be home again.
"I'm gonna, I'm going to go now."
I say once we've gone through an entire roll of toilet paper and I'm sure I look like a raccoon, Yoongi sure does and his eye bags are worse than ever. I grab someone's hoodie off of the couch and pull it over my head, ignoring how Yoongi studies every mark on my arm and the spars new tattoos covering my skin. I use the bathroom quickly to splash water on my face and put some alcohol on my arm, the scrapes stinging as they heal.
"Get some sleep, ya?"
I say, squeezing his shoulder as I walk past him, jamming on Jungkook's runners which are still just a little too small but better than anything I could buy at a store. God I miss that kid.
"I hate you less than you think, but I'm still pissed."
I say, Yoongi's back turned to me.
"Same here."
He replies, and it's just a little better than it was before. Realistically less fucked, nowhere perfect, and worth fighting for. I stay standing there just looking at his back and forcing myself not to say "don't slouch" because I don't have a right to any more. He turns around and gives me that cocky laugh, half annoyed and half hurt, eyes glassy.
"Jungkook took it the hardest, but you wouldn't give a fuck about the boy that just loved you no matter what you did."
"Jungkook is fine."
"Jungkook is fucked, you destroyed him. He knows how to smile for the camera, remember who taught him that?"
I flip him off and grab the door handle, ready to slam it full force on my way out.
"Wait, phone."
He says, his same unconcerned walk as he comes over to hand it to me, scoffing.
"You hate apple."
"It was a gift."
"Who?"
"Suho, dude from the other band."
He's quiet, arms folded across his shirt as he leans in the doorway, kicking my toe gently.
"Are they better to you than we were?"
I pause, wishing it was some sort of insult instead of a real question. I kick his foot back, the puma runners on my feet giving me another half an inch of height on him.
"I don't fight with them like I fought with you. I don't care about them like I care about you guys, not yet, they aren't family just yet."
"But-"
"I've gotta go Yoons, Stay safe."
And I close the door for him, skipping the broken step on the way down with a little bit less of a broken family behind me.
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Double Life
FanfictionSM decides to add a new member to the hit group Exo, but how is a girl going to fit in to this Kpop band? Especially a girl with a secret, a girl with wolf blood in her veins. Will Exo accept her as part of their pack?
