Save Me

47

America has been, well... stressful so far.

It started on their flight, when a few people gave them looks for being a biracial couple. Then it was the looks from the Americans traveling back home, who couldn't help but look at them because they spoke a different language. Then it was struggling to find their bags, rent a car, and talk broken English with the receptionist to get their key.

They were exhausted, slightly pissed—Laila was pissed beyond belief, actually, but she tried to reign it in for Taehyung's sake—and they were hoping the rest of their trip wouldn't be as hectic as it had been so far.

"What do you think they'll talk to me about?" Taehyung asks nervously as they walk towards the building.

"It's hard to say," Laila shrugs. "Whatever it is, I'm proud of you."

As soon as they entered, they could tell just how prestigious everything was. The front desk worker was typing away at her laptop at an inhuman speed, and Taehyung almost cringed at the sound of her acrylics tapping away at the keys.

"Excuse, uhm... me?" he says, thankful to have Laila's hand on the small of his back for support. Speaking English was harder than he thought. "I'm Kim Taehyung. I was... called to have a, uh, meeting here."

The woman's fingers stop short of her typing and she looks up with a fierce stare, annoyed to have been stopped doing her work. She grabs the office phone and taps at a few numbers before bringing it up to her ear, waiting with a bored expression.

"Kim Taehyung is here, sir. And he brought a guest."

Laila gets a bad feeling in her stomach when the woman nods and slaps the phone down. The woman leads them down the hall and to an office room, where a man in his chair smiles up at them.

"Mr. Kim? I'm Mr. Lee, we talked on the phone," the man says, and the couple were thankful that he spoke Korean. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this is a private conversation. I'll only be needing him in here."

"Oh," Laila blinks before turning to Taehyung with a small smile. "I'll just be down the hall."

Taehyung nods, growing nervous now that she was no longer by his side. The woman from the front desk shut the door behind herself as she left too, leaving the men alone in privacy.

"Come sit," Mr. Lee chuckles, heading back to his own chair. "I say we just get right into business."

Taehyung nods, clearing his throat.

"Look," Mr. Lee sighs with a smile. "You've got talent, that's clear. I think you'd be able to make loads of different art works that we could sell. That way, your work actually means something, you know?"

Taehyung frowns, staying quiet.

"Of course, it would be a split profit. More like 70-30. 70 on our side, of course."

"Only 30 for me?" Taehyung scoffs. "This is my art, y-"

"Mr. Kim, be real," Mr. Lee chuckles. "You're going to be under our brand name. And you can't honestly expect to grow big by yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I may speak Korean, but I'm American. I speak four other languages. You're an Asian, Mr. Kim. And that girl of yours outside? Honestly, I don't think it would be a good face going around with a girl like th-"

"Shut your damn mouth!" Taehyung shouts, standing up so abruptly the chair screeched back. "You expect me to sign a deal with you when you act like this? You made me buy my own plane ticket just for you to give me this type of treatment? You're fucking sick."

Taehyung storms out of the room before Mr. Lee could call him back, and he finds Laila sitting on a bench at the end of the hall. She looks up and smiles once he sees him but he grabs her wrist and yanks her up, dragging her away as he stomps towards the car.

When they were buckled, Taehyung squeezed the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he rested his forehead on top of his hands as he breathed angrily.

"Tae?" Laila asks gently, placing a hand on his arm. "What happened?"

"They're fucking racist, Laila," he seethes.

Laila's eyebrows furrow in worry and she bites the inside of her cheek. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"Let me drive," she whispers, hooking her fingers into the handle and popping open the car door.

When they had returned to the safety of their hotel room, Taehyung ranted angrily about the discussion with Mr. Lee. The couple were done, broken by the horrible treatment they had received on the trip. They were angry, upset, and confused as to what they had done to have received such rude comments and stares.

They both cried that night, Taehyung first because he was so disappointed and hurt. He felt used, stupid, and cheated. Laila followed him with a sob, because it wasn't their fault they were born a certain skin color. She was also upset that Taehyung's talent had been thrown away like that, because she knew he deserved so much better.

"I'm booking the first flight out of here," Taehyung mutters as he opens his laptop, wiping at his tears angrily before typing away.

Laila looks at him with tears stuck to her lashes, and she nods with a small whisper. "Okay."