Letters || TaeJin ✔

33. Cry

Seokjin

The pain on my wrist shot through my body. I cannot breathe as I try my best not to cry. But I want to cry. I want to scream. But I can't. I'm weak. I'm annoyed at myself too. I don't know how to stand for myself. I don't know how to fight. I don't know how to stand for what is right. I'm weak. I know.

"I hope that bitch will slide face down," Hoseok mumbled angrily between gritted teeth. He got some ice and put them in a cloth for my sprained wrist. "I saw it! He did that on purpose. That insecure mother fucker deserves some punching."

Hoseok stomps his feet. His hands shaking in anger. His eyes glistening. He saw me fall and he rushed to my side.

"I swear Jin, I will slap his face." He blurted out again.

"No, please. We will lose our job if you will do that." I tried to calm him down. I can't imagine if I will get fired. "I can't afford to lose my job," I whispered.

The door opens with Jimin rushing on my side. He calls one of the chefs and gives a piece of paper. "Please prioritize that one. That's for taking out. Oh my gosh, Jin! I'm so sorry. I swear, it's an accident."

Hoseok snorts and glares at Jimin. "I saw it. You pushed him."

Jimin's face changed. The chefs and the assistants all look in our direction. I know where this conversation is going to end and it's not good.

"Are you accusing me?" Jimin raised his voice at Hoseok.

Hoseok rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. "I'm not accusing you. I'm actually telling--"

"Hoseok..." I called out to stop him. We will both lose our job if he will keep on fighting with Jimin. I can accept it if Jimin will fire me but if he will fire Hoseok because of me, I think I cannot handle that.

Hoseok looks at me and sighs. I know he's suppressing his anger.

"Why don't you just go out and work? It's lunchtime. The restaurant is full." Jimin said in a stern voice.

Hoseok gives the ice pack to me before heading out of the kitchen. Jimin then holds it for me.

"I'm sorry. I will not force you to believe me but I really am sorry." Jimin can't look at me in the eye. His face a bit red and his lips are in a pout. I can't read him anymore. He is far, so far, from the Jimin I knew during high school. He's not the sweet Jimin anymore.

"I'm fine. Don't worry." My voice is low. No matter how I try to say that I'm okay, the words just don't want to come out. I need to force them out so I can speak. Everything is just so painful. I want to give up. But I can't. I just can't.

Jimin pulls out his wallet and gets cash. He then puts it in my pocket. I am puzzled by what he just did. "After work, you go to the nearest clinic and have your wrist checked. I'm really sorry."

I shake my head. "No. I'm okay. Really."

"A sprained wrist is not okay. I have to pay for your check-up. I'm the one who caused it." Jimin pushes my hand back as I tried to give the money back. "By the way, I need you to cook for me again. For Taehyung's dinner. You don't need to deliver. I will deliver the food from now on. You cook I will deliver. Don't worry, I will pay you the same amount."

"B-but Jimin, I can't move my wrist. I cannot c--"

"Jin, you can do it. Okay? Please? I will ask one of the assistant cooks to help you. Then you can go home early so you can have your wrist checked." Jimin smiled before walking past me to the chefs. "How long shall I wait? My man and his assistant need to attend a meeting. Make it fast, please."