Chickadee - A Yoonmin Fanfiction

Part 22

~Jimin~

Ji slides open her office door, pulling me into a hug. "Jimin! It's so nice to see you."

I feel her arms around my neck, noticing the way her body presses against mine. Grimacing a little, I risk a glance at Yoongi. The photographer looks very unimpressed.

I bite my lip, thinking that I should have warned him about this sooner.
The problem is, I keep forgetting that Ji sees me as anything more than a friend.

I have always been close with the dancer, even pulling strings to get her a job in the advertising department, but the dynamics of our relationship changed after she confessed her interest in me. We stopped connecting intentionally, and somehow, I allowed myself to believe that she was moving on.

A part of me feels guilty that I don't like her back, but I've never been attracted to girls in that way. To me, they're just good friends.

With a sinking feeling, I realize that Yoongi doesn't know this. As far as he is aware, I could be bisexual, making Ji a legitimate threat. "It's nice to see you too," I say, pulling quickly away from her. "You've met Yoongi before, right?" I ask, slipping my arm around the photographer's waist. I feel his body relax at my touch, watching some of the tension drain out of his expression.

Ji's gaze flickers between us, her mouth pulling into a tight smile. "Of course I remember him. We worked together to set up your shoots." She glances at the photographer jealously. "I didn't realize the two of you were close..."

"We are," I respond.

"We are." Yoongi echoes, raising an eyebrow at Ji.

For a moment, the three of us stand in awkward silence. "Should we...um, start the meeting?" I suggest.

"Oh, definitely," Ji responds, focusing back on the business at hand. "Follow me."

The young woman leads us into her modest office, gesturing at a pair of straight-backed chairs. "You two can sit there." She instructs, moving to stand behind her desk.

I settle myself in the firm seat, watching Ji do a quick tidy of her already immaculate workspace. "So..." she says, opening a file on her computer. "I talked with my manager, Mr. Lee, and I think I've sorted out how your pictures got into my hands. You already knew that your teacher sent them to my boss as samples, right?" She asks, arching an eyebrow at Yoongi.

"Yeah." The photographer replies.

"Well, Mr. Lee liked the images and decided to forward them on to me. He didn't include any sort of explanation as to why they were sent, so I used them to design the posters for Jimin's performance."

"Right," Yoongi says. "Which brings us to why we're here. I want you to scrap those posters. We have better pictures coming soon."

Ji purses her lips. "So I've heard." Turning her laptop towards us, she focuses her attention on me. "Now, I know you want to change the poster concept, but could you at least take a look at what I have here?" Without waiting for my response, the young woman pulls up a photo file on her computer. "What do you think of this?"

It takes me a moment to process her work. Unsurprisingly, I am featured at the centre of the image, my body cast in a pool of shadow. The expression on my face looks hostile and intimidating, my fingers edited to seem as if they are disintegrating into black smoke. Across the bottom of the poster, written in strong block letters, are the dates and times of my performances. As usual, the academy crest dominates the lower left-hand side of the paper, a silhouette of a dancer framed in while silks, with the name of our founder at its base. As far as editing goes, this poster is very well done, but I can't get past how grimly it represents me.