Four

five

She was officially going crazy.

It has been a week. A full goddamn week after her talk with Junhwan, and a full week of not seeing and talking to Jungkook and she's definitely going out of her mind. They weren't even fighting, and even if they were, the longest they ever went without talking to each other was two to three days.

The truth is, Lisa had no idea why she couldn't just grab her phone and send him a text or call him (like she had the balls to do so, or like any other normal functioning descendant of the homosapiens). She missed him so much and the fact that not a minute went by without her thinking about what her asshole of an ex told her didn't help at all.

Now all she wanted to do was pull out her damn hair and bite off all her nails and maybe even check herself into a mental institution because she might as well be put in a straight jacket before she actually have a breakdown.

God, it's literally six in the morning and she's already going nuts. That's not healthy at all, right?

And yet, here she was, sunlight seeping through her drapes, wrapped up in her soft cottony sheets like a burrito, probably having a stress-induced existential crisis over a problem she could've easily avoided.

The question of the century still remains: why the fuck couldn't she talk to him?

Lisa sighed, reluctantly getting up and unwrapping herself from her soft pink haven. She needs a distraction. She needs to do something  to hold on to her sanity before she loses her grip.

Because if she did (lose her grip), she swore it would be damn messy.

So she took a shower, dressed herself up and did her make-up for the first time in seven fucking days to go to the hellhole people dared to call work.

In her defense, Lisa had a great job. The money was great, of course. She works as a writer, a jounalist for a local news network. She's not a reporter, god no. She worked behind the scenes, writing and researching and doing all the hard stuff. She loved writing, since it was and still is her passion. But damn, the people there are toxic as fuck and the paychecks are the only thing making Lisa tolerate all that shit.

So yes, she had a good job, to say the least.

Lisa wore her sunglasses and strutted off to her desk, feeling every pair of eyeballs on her as she confidently walked past them. Gasps and inaudible whispers filled the air as she took a seat and Lisa's head snapped up in surprise when a hand grabbed her left arm.

"What the—"

♡

"Kim Jennie, you scared the shit out of me."

The brunette only rolled her eyes, shamelessly sitting atop her desk and crossing her legs. "I swear that dirty mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble."

"Why the fuck are you here Kim Jennie?" She asked, feigning disinterest. If this was all gossip and girl talk, she didn't even care if the girl was her bestfriend. Lisa will take a damn needle and a thread and she will sew her mouth shut.

The girl who wore Chanel from head to toe scoffed. "Yah, Lalisa! Just because we're now adults, doesn't mean you can disrespect me. Address me properly, child."

The blonde chuckled. "Sorry Jennie-unnie, now tell me what you want from me."

"Are you kidding me right now? You've been gone for seven days," she paused for dramatic effect. "Seven days! It's like you completely disappeared off the face of the earth! Where were you?"