Puppetry - P.JM. [ON-HOLD]

Five

I heard a knock at my door, my mind fogged up. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination. I had been hearing things as I had been sleeping. I was catching up to know I had hit my head too hard once again. I ignored it, trying my hardest to think I was going to be okay again. I just had to ignore it.

There was another knock on my door. I suddenly understood that someone was actually there, just not some random auditory hallucination that decided to haunt me. I gave a groan, burying my head more into the mattress, smelling the pine that filled my nose. I felt my body relax, forgetting my mess I had encountered.

I heard the click of the door, someone's footsteps coming into my room. It was the rhythmic clap of shoes that I knew too well. "You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Tae," I murmured into the sheets, not opening my eyes. I didn't want to. "You don't have to worry about me."

"I feel as if it's my job now."

I gave another groan, rolling myself to lay on my back. My head throbbed as I did so, feeling my face wince slightly in pain. As I got to my back, I reached my hand up to my free hair that I barely ever let out unless I was sleeping. "It shouldn't have to be your job. I'm fine on my own, you know."

"You're still not feeling good today. Your face is pale."

"Whatever," I grumbled, the hand that ran through my hair now pressing against my forehead lightly. "I need to go to work. I'll survive."

"You're staying here today."

I gave a loud sigh, throwing my arm back on the bed. "I'm going to work."

"I called off all your appointments."

My eyes snapped open, my head looking over to Taehyung. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, the door closed. A stern expression was held on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. His red hair seemed blinding to me. The tattoos along his body seemed to scream dominance for some reason. He wore black slacks, black dress shoes, and a dark red button-up shirt, the rolled up sleeves and folded collar a black color, lace covering it. The buttons were black, shiny. More shells.

"Where's my radio?" I said, starting to sit up from the bed. I felt my brain roll around in my head, nausea coming over my body. I closed my eyes once I got up, taking in a few deep breaths to let myself settle.

"You're not going to your appointments," I heard Taehyung say from his position, his voice flat as he spoke. 

Shudders ran down my spine, my body flaring up with heat. It took a few tries, but I eventually swallowed down the bile that burned my throat. "I need the money. Taehyung, I'm . . . I'm barely surviving right now. I need the money."

"I'll pay you how much you were going to be paid today."

"You can't do that," I breathed, my voice starting to fade off. "I need to work for myself. I can't rely on you."

"I'll pay you for the day. You need to rest."

"You can't do that," my voice turned to a whisper. Hot flashes were getting more frequent. Goose bumps ran up and down my arms. I could feel myself drifting.

"When I come back, we'll talk about this," Taehyung said. I heard a few of his footsteps from his place, going over to the door. "I have to go to work for a little bit. Just rest. Please. I'll have one of the puppets come check on you from time to time."

I wanted to keep refusing. I wanted to get up, to walk out of his house. I didn't want to stay here all day. I needed the money. I needed to survive on my own. I couldn't rely on people. I knew I always grew afraid of walking into a client's place, but I needed to go. The horrid feeling of uselessness was taking over my body. My stomach was dropping.