SEVENTEEN STORIES (ONE SHOTS / IMAGINES / SHORT STORIES)

Lee Chan: Somebody

We all want that "somebody", the one we cannot define that easily. 

As difficult as it may sounds, finding the one who is going to love you unconditionally will just happen to come one day. 

And when that precious day arrives, you should embrace and cherish every depth of it, even if it hurts your darkest deepest parts. 

Because that "somebody" will love you the way you are without looking at all your flaws.

Let's dive into such a story of longing. It is my tale to tell anyway. 

Being kicked out of law school is one major setback, but the way to make amends with life is the other. I had to give someone the benefit of the doubt, even if that someone happened to be me. 

Sacrificing a lot of valuable connections, I landed a modeling gig after a long time of struggling in this industry. And not a random job, a commercial for a huge cream soda company that would allow me to expand my sources for fashion brands and more.

I was noticeably nervous, tapping my left foot on a non-existing beat while rehearsing my lines in the middle of the studio. The lights were getting checked thoroughly, multiple camera's were set correctly as a measurement tape filled my eye corner. 

This sight made me blink, diverting my view to the one who was holding the wire.

Time stopped, the shiny black pearl orbs and boxy jawline made my heart go crazy. The assistant director's meager smile broke me out of my daydream, getting a check of reality while I continued reading my script in my head over and over again. Cueing to start while the clapperboard hid the front of my face, my awaited journey finally set its sprint. 

In the first cut, I forgot what I had to say. 

Second, I could not hold in my contagious laughter. 

Third, I forgot my lines again. 

Fourth, everything went perfect except for the soda can that frizzed up somehow, disappointing every single soul in the studio at once. 

Unlucky me, they had a replacement ready as if they knew I was going to blow it. The threatening tears filled my deep brown eyes, running away from the scene was probably the best decision I had made till that date.

Cries were the only resonance heard on the stairwell, myself cramped up on one of the treads while the water ran down my blushed cheeks. Why did I hate myself in that moment? I had brought myself up to it, wearing a ridiculous outfit while reciting cringey lines that would have been displayed on billboards all over the country. 

Nobody would pity a girl like me, I did not even deserve the attention as it is my own damn fault. Blowing out some air from my mouth, I heard a pair of shoes shuffling closer towards my right side. My deep brown eyes met a black plastic bag, shooting my look right through the iron stair bars while my breath hitched. 

That guy, the assistant director, had an assumingly mango flavored ice popsicle in his left hand, taking a generous bite while staring blinkingly at me. His black pearl eyes motioned to the bag as he nudged it in my direction. 'Eat up. You look like you need it.'

My dry lips trembled, the thought that someone was caring for me did me some good, taking the shopping bag from his right hand while I expressed my gratitude by bowing. He walked a couple of steps to the back, leaning his spine against the wall. The guy did not utter a single letter, eating his gift in the same way while my tears eventually stopped oozing out.