𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 || 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨

하나

NOT EDITED!
❦

     Shoes rubbing against the polished gym floors, the sound of sport equipment being used. Lunch period was my favorite part of the day. I wasn't the smartest academically, so I didn't really enjoy the classes either. If I had friends maybe they would've been more enjoyable, but I knew I was someone people would regard as a loner or a loser. I carried a few extra pounds more then everyone else. I had been complimented on having sculptured features, yet also insulted by the only issue of having slight chub on my face which hid it from others. I'm fat, I like to believe that I am healthy, but healthy didn't fit their standards. They made it so weight was the basis for beauty.

     I sat on the bleachers, leaning against the wall. My eyes remained glued on the tall male student. He laughed and jogged around the court, his hand raising in the air as he caught for the ball. Intramurals usually happened at lunch, so I'd watch him play just like how everyone else did. It was just an innocent one sided love.

☏☏☏

     Random thoughts kept playing in your head while you stared at Wonwoo. His gaze that only met with the directors. Wonwoo nodded his head, turning towards your manager and you, and he bowed. Your stomach turned, his face was emotionless. "I hope we can work well together."

     He stood up, locking eyes with your brown ones. It bothered you, he had the audacity to even stare at you with the same eyes that watched your in pain for those two years. You thought that he should be kissing your shoe right now, begging you for forgiveness. Wonwoo took the script of the desk and bowed to everyone in the room before leaving. Your hands gripped at your sides, nails digging into your palms causing it to break the skin and let small amounts of blood seep through the cut. You stomp your feet towards the door swinging it open. You rushed down the hall staring at Wonwoo who stood by the elevator. "Yah! Jeon Wonwoo!"

     He turned his head, his facial expression was enough for you to already tell what he was thinking. He was bored and wanted to leave. "What do you need, Y/N-sshi?"

     "Do you know how hard I've been trying in my whole career to try and avoid you?" You shouted out, lifting your index finger and shoving it into his face. Wonwoo looked taken aback. His eyebrows furrowed, gently pushing your hand out of his face. His features were dark and cold, staring down at you. He looked irritated and confused, not understanding your words.

     "Now why would you do that?" Wonwoo questioned, crossing his arms over his while waiting for the elevator to arrive. You were growing furious. You curled your index finger, scratching at the skin on your thumb, a habit of yours that you seemed to have found at a young age. The deeper you dug your finger into your skin, the more angrier you were. Right now it felt as if your flesh was going to peel from your bone. You decided not to answer his question.

     "I'm asking you to back out of this drama." Your voice softened very slightly. You weren't going to act as if you liked him, and you wasn't the type to demand something from someone either. You were taught to have manners, even if you have pure hatred for someone, you had to keep the elegant image you had portrayed. Wonwoo puckered his lips, shaking his head. He looked back at the elevator door, pressing the button. "Why not?"

     "Because I need the money." Wonwoo shrugged, playing with the cuffs of his jacket. You scoffed, scratching at the thumb once again.

     "Why is it so hard for you to just back out? You're in an rap group plus you're a famous actor." You pointed out facts, wanting to the slap his emotionless face. Anger was taking over you. Your thoughts were becoming irrational and clouding your judgment, actions and words.

     "This is a good way to promote my group. It's a good marketing tool." Wonwoo swung his head towards you, the elevator door rung, the doors opening. He stuck his hand out, holding the doors open. "And I don't think we know each other enough for you to be asking anything of me."

     "Don't pretend like you don't know me, Jeon Wonwoo. I know you remember."

     "I'm not pretending. I don't know you. If I did something to upset you, I'm sorry, but no need to be so aggressi—" Wonwoo shrugged his shoulders stepping into the elevator. You stood in front if the door, staring him down as he pressed the elevator floor buttons.

     "I don't want your damn apology." You growled, clenching your teeth on your flattened tongue. You laughed, running your hand through your hair, pull off the shades that sat above your forehead. "If you still decide to stay on this film, I'm going to make your life living hell on set."

     Wonwoo smirked slightly, he nodded his head. He leaned against the wall, letting his tongue poke at the skin inside his mouth. "Like I said, I need the money. Let's work well together alright?"

     Before you could say anything the doors were already shutting. Your eyes were locked until the metal closed the distance between you both. Your chest was rising and falling, rage filled you, humiliation engulfed you and your PTSD drowned you. You tried to hide from him all this time, hoping that doing so would help you suppress the urge to do something dangerous, but seeing him once again scared you. You didn't want the past to repeat itself.

     You wanted to find reconciliation with what had happened without forgetting it happened, but every time you'd see his face on the Internet, build boards, posters and magazines, you couldn't help but run away. You absolutely detested Wonwoo. He was living it down while you would wake up every morning, breaking out in sweat after the continuous nightmares that repeated like a song.
     —and having to hear his songs on the radio all day too? You couldn't avoid him. It was as if you were trying to hide from your own shadow.

     You knew that you needed this job though. If it was an option for you, you would've quit without even asking Wonwoo first. You needed this job, and if you would be forced to work with him, you'd make it one hell of a fucking ride.