Paying For Love [3]

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Jin's Perspective

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It's the second last day for the two weeks to be complete. Such a short period of time seems to have gone so slow, so eventfully, and so overwhelmingly.

What happened last night,
I can't keep my mind off it.
What I said,
What I implied,
Her feelings — your feelings for me.

I don't visit you the day after. I frankly can't even if I wanted to, busy with schedules and not knowing where to find you.

Courage within me brews when I come to the end of the day. When the end comes, I'm breathing in and out, my hands are shaking and my head is throbbing. I don't know whether I should call you, I don't know what to say if you pick up...I know nothing but the fact that I'm sorry.

"I'm sorry," I say into the phone as it rings. I practice for when you pick up. I practice but there is no use. You don't pick up the phone.

My shaking intensifies. My knee bobs and my hands are at my face. I call again, and hear the rings count down an imaginary clock I want to punch in to stop.

You don't pick up a second time.

Your voicemail is the cutest thing.

"Hi loser! If it's Y/N you're trying to reach, too bad! *evil laugh* I got better things to do than attend your call!"

I'm biting at my nails as I redial,
Redial,
Redial,
Redial.
All I hear each time is your voicemail.

"Come on, pick up." It takes me a while to notice that I am close to crying.

"Aye, dirty man!" Jungkook yells from the outside of my bedroom door. I jump, glancing over, uninterested. "Come out for dinner! We've ordered and it's hereee~!"

"I'm not hungry!" I shout as a response, redialing when the line doesn't cross over.

I lose count over how many miscalled I'm probably giving you.

"Whaaaaa?" Jungkook's voice is muffled. "How are you not hungry?" The maknae dies of laughter.

My jaw clenches, not right now—I can't deal with this right now. "JUNGKOOK-AH! Leave me alone!"

The laughter dies. I hear nothing but I know he's still out there.

"Hyung..." there is no amusement to his voice, "You okay?"

"I'll be out in twenty." That's it. I shut down the conversation before it can gently start.

There's no more sound past my door. Nothing but footsteps leaving to exit the hallway that seems to be longer than ever—I'm losing track of time.

I call again.
I call again.
—and then again.

My palms are starting to sweat, and at this point my eyes are veiny and red. I can no longer hold back the water that blinds me.

I call one last time.

Just as I time and wait for the voicemail to pop again, it doesn't this time. This last time it doesn't. Your soft voice echoes into my ears and I breathily chuckle, stopping a sniffle that wishes to escape me.

'Hi,' I want to say, but you beat me to it as you're delicate state asks me, "What?"

I swallow hard. My vision is no longer blurry since the water at my eyes is now on my cheeks. "I, uh, you weren't picking up. I got worried."

"I told you not to worry about me."

"I care about you," then I say your name to make my genuine words personal, "believe that I do..." I'm begging almost.

"Did you need something? Are you coming over today? I'll get washed up for you if you are?"

My face moves in sadness at that. "Quit treating me like I'm some ordinary client. We both know we're more than that to each other..." now my voice is delicate.

You say nothing for a moment. My heart is on the line, listening to you breathe and collect your thoughts.

When you do speak, I suddenly wish you hadn't.

"But that's what you are," you whisper, voice holding no care, "...boys like you don't fall for girls like me."

Your Perspective

I hear him silent.

Before he can speak again, I know I won't be able to bare it. I end the call as I say, "Don't call me again." My phone is back in my pocket after I make my statement clear.

Watery eyes look to a man that smiles largely, I try to stand taller and stay strong while facing him.

He hears my reactions to Jin I just called. He sees my eyes cry, and he knows exactly who was on the line—I see his awareness from the smirk of his growing, and his gazes showing empathy to none.

"Looks like you've falling a little too fast, huh?" He refers to my heart, my care, and my growing love for the idol. Something I wish to bury now. Deep. Deep.

"Let me in."

I try to peer across from him and get to my rightful room. The room where I belong, the room where I've always belonged...

I stand at the entrance of the brothel.

Duke stands before me, blocking my ways in with an amusement that doesn't fit with his dark expressions directed my way.

"I'll let you in, but before I do," his eyes look me up and down. "I need to ask you why you're here so early. I frankly thought I wouldn't be seeing you again."

"I thought that too."

"Then why the change of heart?"

I glare, meeting his eyes. "Let me in."

He does nothing but smirk, tap the door he stands before, and slides to the side to let me in. The gaps to have me slide through are small and I know he does this so I can feel discomfort from being extremely close to him while I enter.

I try to show no emotion as I move in, but my breath shakes quit a lot when he tries to pin me down to the frame. I don't let him win, my legs faster than ever as I run.

His laugh is loud.
Duke watches me run.

"Let's see if you're running tomorrow," he says under his breath, staring at my backside perversely as I make the stairs.

"Welcome back! Nice to have my whores no longer losing their minds!" Duke yells, slamming the door shut as he moves in. "What I say goes!"

He's laughing more and more to himself; enjoying the fact that I, his favourite, have come back.