star-crossed || kim taehyung

chapter one

I am an idiot.

When I decided to quit my job as a professor and fly to a foreign country whose language I don't even speak in pursuance of my dream, I didn't expect things to be this tough. I thought having a decent resume and enough experience would lead me right towards the job, but no. Hell, I couldn't have been any more wrong.

A year and a half ago, I didn't think becoming a writer would be so hard.

Let's say, I am just so stupid.

Since I moved to Seoul, I have received 21 rejection letters for the scripts I wrote. Apparently, Korean agencies think my storylines are too banal, or that my dialogues are a little too dramatic, or a lot of scenes are just unnecessary. I've been here not too long and I've already heard a thousand reasons why I'm not competent as a screenplay writer. I am so unlucky I think there's a really fat chance I'm gonna beat JK Rowling's record.

What have I done to my life?

I folded yet another rejection letter from CJ Entertainment and downed a shot of soju. I want to rip the damn letter into pieces so bad in frustration but I know I'll just tape it back later and pin it in the nail on my wall. Yay, my 21st rejection letter whoo-hoo!

Fuck. I am such an unlucky idiot. I am an incompetent unlucky idiot.

I poured myself another shot to celebrate my doom but my vision is starting to blur and I can feel my cheeks getting hot. I can still hear the party raging on downstairs on Jimin's flat though. I swear that kid always throws parties when he knows I'm depressed. What time is it anyway?

My apartment door opened unexpectedly revealing a very much concerned Korean shit. He stopped at the doorway right when he sees me and shakes his head.

"Damn August, how many did you drink?" Hobi said.

Oh, it's Hobi! Okay, I take back saying he's a shit cos I thought for a sec he was Jimin. It's Hobi-oppa! My angel is here!

I grinned, as I look up to him from where I'm sitting sloppy on the floor. I texted him earlier saying I've heard from CJ Ent and he told me it must finally be good news. He's the only one who still believes in me cos even I gave up on myself. But I know we both know I'll end up drinking again tonight.

Hobi walks towards me while eyeing the bottles of soju littered all over the apartment and shakes his head again. He squats down in front of me and flicked me lightly on the forehead.

"Ya," he began. "Did you think I gave you this apartment so you could drink alone every night?"

"Ya, you think I drink in this apartment every night?" I shake my head. "No, I do it during the day too."

"August, stop drinking every hour, every day. If you clear your head I bet you can write some decent lines. If not, try finding work somewhere else. You can't be a frustrated writer forever, A."

"Wow. Rub it in some more, why don't you?"

He sighs and pats my head like I'm a dog. It feels kinda strange hearing him lecture me. Hobi-oppa has been supportive of me ever since so it's amusing to hear him dissuade me from being a writer for the first time. I still smile though, cos I know he meant good seeing as he knows my story.

He took a glance at the folded paper beside me.

"I guess they sent the same response then."

"Ya, you shithead," I laughed. "Do you even have to ask?"

My vision is not quite clear because of the alcohol, but I can tell he's smiling. Hobi's always the one to cheer up first regardless of any situation. He chuckles and flicks my forehead again.