Thank you to @pjm-lover for the cover!!
{Part of the 'Seasons' series}
"She's just like snow, drifting along at her own will. But as soon as she comes into contact with something warm, she melts as if she never existed" - thebbokkyz.
This story feat...
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As I lay in my bed, still shocked because of what occurred today, my door opens, revealing Hyemi in her matching hoodie and pants.
She jumps into bed next to me, wrapping her arms around me, cuddling with me. I try and wriggle out of her grasp because I'm not used to hugs, and I don't like them.
"Unnie~" I whine. She giggles but doesn't move from her position. I stop moving and sigh as a sign of defeat.
Even though I can't see her face, I can tell she is smiling, "I win."
She reaches for her phone, handing it to me to put something on before we die of boredom.
It's currently 9pm, yet we aren't sleepy. So, to pass time, I go onto the YouTube app and search up BTS, clicking on their funny moments video.
The entire room fills with silence, other than our occasional giggles and cackles because of how dorky they are.
One after the other, the videos start ending and I feel my eyes growing heavy.
The phone is taken from my grasp and put on the bedside table.
"Goodnight, Hye Jung-ah," I hear a faint, soft voice as I drift off to sleep.
. . .
Birds chirped in the distance, in the trees, the faint sound of waves toppling on top of one another, and the breeze combing through branches.
I open my eyes, stretching. I sigh, relaxing in my position as the simple designs on the ceiling suddenly become intricate.
Hyemi bursts through my bedroom door, "Get ready, Hye Jung-ah. You have to eat breakfast and we'll be on our way. Shawn called in earlier and said that we only have a few interviews and performances we have to do before we start our fan-meet."
Smacking my lips together, I stumble my way out of bed and into the bathroom.
After finishing my morning routine, getting ready in a pair of plain black jeggings, white shirt and a flannel hoodie, and also finishing my breakfast which consisted of a homemade cappuccino made by Hyemi, we climb into the black van and Charles starts driving away to our first interview location.
. . .
"Sorry Shawn couldn't make it," Margaret apologizes.
I shake my head, "It's totally all right. He has his own set of interviews and performances to attend. He is, after all, a pop star. He's not our manager to always stick with us. You're our manager, aren't you, Margaret?"
