IDOL-1

Chapter 4

There's this common saying that curiosity kills the cat. Well, I'm the cat and I'm pretty sure my death is imminent now.

My eyes widened as I looked at In at the threshold of the door. It was about then I'd quickly pieced the picture together: this was In's studio. I found my room and the room was his studio. Wait, was I staying in his studio? But I never put more thinking into that thought as his eyes were locked on mine. Despite how dark they were, I could very clearly see the pure rage that ignited in his eyes. He was mad.

I found myself startled at his intimidating gaze. So, I briskly stepped backwards. It was too late to realize my mistake as I fumbled onto the table of papers. I quickly placed my hands on the table, trying to stop it from shaking. I must've upset a god-- mother-nature-- something-- (or maybe just In) because the papers under my hands began slipping. And as they slipped off the table on one side, I was plummeting on the other. I hit my forehead on the armrest of the chair on the way down, making my impact with the floor the least of my worries. I clutched my head as I slowly rose up, my eyes squinted.

There next to me on the floor was In. He was frantically picking up the papers I'd knocked onto the floor. He was still mad, that much I could tell from his face. Then I looked to the floor at the mess I'd clumsily made. A smart introvert at this moment would've seen that as the prime time to leave. But, instead, guilt flooded into my mind.

I scooted over next to him, "Here, I can help--"

"Get out," he stated in a calm voice.

I paused, my hand in mid-reach of a paper. I looked up at his face. He wasn't looking at me. He was still looking at the floor. That only made me feel more guilty.

I should help, "I made the--"

"I said get out!" he was turned towards me now, nostrils flared.

My hands retracted in shock for a moment before I composed myself. This is what I got for trying to fix my mistake. It was the same thing over and over again. My lips drew into a thin line as I looked at him, my eyes now equally enraged. Without a word, I got up, grabbed my bag, and began heading out of the room.

Why did I even try helping in the first place? I thought.

"What's all the commotion?" a voice from the hallway spoke.

I peaked out to see Duck-Young making his way down the hall. I wasn't in any mood to talk now-- to anyone.But I still didn't have a room to stay in.

I took a deep breath, "I can't find my room."

Duck-Young gave me a questioning look as he glanced from me to the door of In's room, "You went into In's room, didn't you?"

I barely had time to let out an annoyed sigh as the door to In's room was slammed shut. Both of us jumped in response. Duck-Young bit his lower lip, a worried look in his eyes as he looked at the now-closed door.

He then looked at me, the concerned expression gone from his face, "What room are you staying in?"

"Well, it was 612 but," I gestured my hand at the closed door.

"Is that an excuse?" Duck-Young gave me an amused look.

I furrowed my brows as in confusion. When I realized, I scoffed, "Uh, I have a boyfriend? You think I want to be roommates with Mr-Grumps-A-Lot?"

I could see a change in his expression as it fell into a frown. There was a look in his eyes. Was that anger? But, like before, it vanished. However, the smile didn't find its way back onto his face.