Colder Than Winter [BTS | Drama | Romance]

29. No Rest for the Wicked

YURIM

I looked down at my phone for what felt like the hundredth time. It's been almost a week since I've heard from Hoseok. At first I worried that something might have happened to him. That maybe Jei came for him but when I called his house. His uncle answered and assured me Hoseok was home recovering just fine. Now I've resorted to only calling the landline since it's the only time I get an answer from Mr. Jung and even Heejae a couple of times.

A folded piece of paper plopped down right on my homemade japchae. I observed it with an irritated brow then glared up at the person who put it there. A girl I didn't know glared back at me. Her arms were folded in a defiant way, her hip dramatically pushed out to one side. It reminded me of the way Minju stood when she was angry at me.

"Who are you?" I asked, irked.

"Nothing but a messenger, apparently," she looked me up and down with disgust. "Just don't think this makes you special."

Without another word, the girl strutted out of my homeroom class. Everyone else watched her storm out then stared at me curiously. I shook my head as I stared after her with unbelief.

"Is she crazy?" I mumbled to myself.

I stared back down at the paper now stained with sauce then opened it up. In small letters it read, meet me in the music room. Next to the message was a heart with a smiley face on it. The note seemed to ease the resentment I just felt from my unfriendly encounter. But who could it be from?

The heart made me suspect it had been from Jin, but I wasn't sure if it was just wishful thinking. It would make sense that the girl was so salty about it. After remembering the reaction of the girls in the hall when Seokjin held my hand, it seemed very likely.

I packed up my lunch and went towards the music room.

When I got there, I was surprised that it had been empty. I was sure music students spent extra time practicing their instruments here during breaks.

I walked toward the front of the fan shaped room where a bunch of abandoned instruments sat. Two xylophones, a big drum, and a few piano keyboards, one of which were left on. Everything looked scattered and forgotten. Students were usually responsible enough to organize everything before they left.

Chairs lined the crescent risers on the other half of the room. Classrooms could feel so eerie when no one was around.

I fiddled around on the xylophone and piano a bit before deciding no one was coming. I rolled my eyes and marched back to the door. It finally occurred to me that the ill-mannered girl from before must've been trolling me for the same reason she had an attitude - which was still a mystery to me.

I swung the door open before I was yanked backwards, a hand clasped over my mouth. A split second recollection of Yoongi pulling me into the stairwell flashed in my head but I knew immediately that this person was not Yoongi.

Fire surged through me while struggling to break free but they were too strong. I was brought into a dark room; one of the sound proof practice rooms. I screamed out when they withdrew their hand to open the door, but it didn't matter. No one could hear me.

Once in, my back slammed against the wall. The boy, as I could tell by his strength and height, trapped my arms above my head. I could feel his warm, labored breaths on my cheek. I flinched away at the slightest touch of our foreheads.

"YA!" my voice trembled, "YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY? LET ME OUT!"

There was a little square window of thick glass in the door where one could see outside. When he lifted his head, the light that leaked in revealed half of his face. As soon as I saw it, my blood seethed.