Is It Wrong? | Sope

Chapter 7

Yoongi POV

Listening to him talk, I could feel my heart sinking lower and lower. With every word he spoke, the more constricted my lungs felt. As he finally shuts up, I can feel the dry sting at my eyes, tears being hard to work up anymore these days after everything. As I feel my throat beginning to tighten as well, I mentally admit defeat as I push myself away from the table. It takes me a moment, collecting every ounce of strength I have left in me, before I shove myself out of the chair. Without so much as another word or even a look in his direction, I exit the conference room and silently shut the door behind me.

Using up any courage I have left, I silently make my way to my studio. Walking through the cold halls though, the heated difference of my cheeks becoming red from the overwhelming feeling of wanting to cry is noticeable. Though, to anyone else my warming cheeks would appear as having blushed, being overly warm in general, or associate it with drinking. I don't give a single care to it at all though, as I hurry off to my studio, wanting desperately to be alone and out of sight.

When I finally reach the room I've been yearning for, I silently shut the door behind me and lock it so that my manager can't possibly come in. With that somehow accompanied, I turn around to lean my back against the door before slowly sliding down it until I'm on the floor. Sitting there quietly, I loosely wrap my arms around my legs as my forehead rests against my knees. Squeezing and releasing my eyes shut tightly over and over in a sort of cycle, I whimper ever so softly so that nobody will hear me from the other side of the door.

No longer so certain of anything regarding myself, I surprisingly feel the painful prick of actual tears slowly beginning to form. My breathing immediately increases, even more worried for myself and mental state at the fact of having actual tears suddenly present, it's not long before they begin to wet my warm cheeks. The coldness of the tears drastically clear on my rosy cheeks, I breathe a sharp intake of air. Reaching up to tangle my fingers into my hair, I yank desperately at the ends as it quickly grows difficult to breathe. This only makes matters worse though, as the anxiety attack takes over, not having to have dealt with one in three years since my last breakup. And even that doesn't seem to have been as bad as this one. No, this is like the attacks I used to have before that last relationship, long before I became a trainee here.

Fighting desperately through the attack, I feel myself slowly grow tired and lightheaded. Knowing the attack is painfully slowly coming down as the familiar coldness sets into my body, it only causes me to whimper and whine more.

It really is a shitty feeling. Working your life away, working your ass off. Producing music that I'm genuinely proud of, and honestly always mildly hesitant to release to the world because of how personal it truly is. All of it just to get crushed like it's nothing. Like it doesn't mean a thing. I understand, everyone has their own taste in music and genres, but did he have to be so ruthless and harsh about it? Hell, he has to work with me for fucks sake! Does it really do either of us any good to just shit on the others work like that?

For the personality he portrayed just the day before, I never would've thought him to be so hard and critical of my work suddenly. Granted, I know I deserve it. I deserve all of the hate I get, after all. But to get it in person, face to face, like this? Holy shit... I-I know there's more work that could be done. I shouldn't rush whenever I've got a good idea going. I shouldn't be putting my fucking heart out on my sleeve in the songs the way I do. But, it had been the exact thing Manager Nim and I had agreed upon when I first got here. I suggested it and he liked the idea. I know it's completely different from some of the other rappers out there but... is my work really that pathetic?

Curling up on the floor in attempt to warm myself up, I squeeze my eyes shut as my body finally just allows me to cry in peace.

I really didn't think that would hurt this much. Although, when it's the person you actually admire, especially when that list is so low, that's the one tearing your work to shreds... It really does make you contemplate what exactly the fuck you're doing with your life and if you shouldn't be looking for a different career.