Audition [Daragon]

Target 32: The End

Dara's P.O.V

I thought of the day when my mother told me I should marry someone as soon as possible, someone that could help me with my life and lessen my burden. At first, when I agreed to the deal with Taeyang, I thought that he’s the one that would help me for the rest of my life, start a family and be happy for the rest of our lives together; so I tried to learn how to love him, but trying wasn’t enough, because I can’t love him more than friends. Then, came Jiyong, whom I met at an audition. When I first saw him, I already knew it was love at first sight, and I thought, “Ah, he’s the one my mother wants me to marry.” He was a gift from heaven. We finally dated; just roughly a week and this happened. I’m going to marry his brother instead of him. Such is fate.

“Dara-yah,” Bom wiped my cheeks, and I didn’t know by then that I was crying. I sniffed, and forced up a smile. “I’m fine.” I muttered, rubbing my eyes with the back of my palm and lifted up my chin.

“I’m sorry that this didn’t work out.” Bom said, kneeling before me with her hands on both of my shoulders. “I thought Top will-“

“It’s okay.” I wrapped my arms around her neck and sobbed. “They did what they thought was best and I’m glad for that.”

Flashback

Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the day whether I’ll marry Jaejoong or not, and it all lies in Top and Jiyong’s hands. I always think of tomorrows as the day where you treasure the past, but not relive it and make new happy memories. Bom and I both started to feel anxious since we woke up in the morning, but then we both have faith to the boys so we tried to shrug the worry off. While waiting for Jaejoong’s daily call, Bom and I decided to knit sweaters with the wool and needles we found inside the wardrobe to kill time. I made a good progress, just a few more knitting to do before I finish, while Bom got stuck on making the hem, unable to start.

“Ah, how did you do that? This is really hard.” Bom whined, looking at the sweater she made for Top. It looked like a sweater even though there were glitches in her knitting but Bom’s into perfection, and she hated it when her work has glitches that’s why she studied every stitch she made—and that includes the hem.

I tied the knot and cut the thread before folding the sweater. “Just hook the needle at the last stitch you made so you could make the hem.”

Bom obliged, and started working on the hem. She grinned widely when my advice worked, and kept her pace up so she could finish hers quickly. On the other hand, I placed the folded sweater on the bed and stood up from the mattress. I stretched my muscles out, especially on the legs. Five hours knitting almost numbed my legs back there.

“I’m finished!” Bom exclaimed and jumped out from the bed, holding the sweater in both of her hands. It was a lousy work, but then at least she tried her best. She even added Top’s name on the hem.

As if on cue, the wall-mounted television turned on, and fuzzy black and white colors fill the whole screen. Bom went beside me, and grabbed my wrist. I felt her hand tremble, much more than mine and it was something I’m glad for, because we’re both at the same boat. I would be nervous if Bom isn’t nervous at all.