ICE CREAM [ completed ]

Ninety

With ten minutes left in the break, I am feeling uneasy to the point where I need a second alone. I excuse myself from the locker room and escape into the quietness of the nearby hallway.

Out here, it's chilly and the voices from the locker room and the large arena are dimmed and muffled. I press my back against the cool brick and lean against my thighs.

I cannot stop thinking about Jungkook.

I let out a large sigh and regulate my breathing to calm me down. I'm not anxious about the game and I'm positive I can still win with my team, but the thought of Jungkook is all-consuming. It's confusing. Does this mean I have forgiven him? Am I going to let this go? He said he wants to be with me...that he still loves me...maybe I can move on from what he did? After all of this...after all we went through...

I know I was in love with him back then though I never said it. And now, more than ever, I want him to be watching. I want him to be thinking about me and cheering me on with his stupid little bunny smile that had the worst tendency to drive me absolutely crazy.

I pull out my phone.

ME
| Jungkook where are you??
| Please answer me
| Tell me you aren't in trouble
| Why aren't you here??

I wait three minutes before gripping my phone hard in frustration. But my eyes are back on the screen.

ME
| I thought about what you said the other day
| About wanting to be with me after all of this is over
| God I am probably going to kick myself in the ass for saying this through a fucking message
| But I want that too, I think
| I don't know why and I don't even know if I forgive you yet
| I want to try
| Because I can't imagine you not being a part of my fucking life
| You annoying little brat

I hear footsteps closing in. They are short and calculated. I feel my insides start to churn. I look up at the person approaching and feel my throat hitch.

Kim Namjoon.

"Ah, Yoongi-ssi," Namjoon approaches me slowly and I immediately straighten to a stand. Namjoon is dressed in a black pin-striped suit and is holding a cigar in his hand. His shoes are clicking against the floor as he takes easy, nonchalant steps in my direction. "You are an obedient little puppy, aren't you?"

I remain quiet as to not give him the satisfaction of his insults impacting me. His icy tone prickles my spine, and just the devilish look in his eyes is enough to drive a person mad. I lift my chin in whatever defense I have. I'm not purposely trying to appear tougher or more controlled than I am, but I'll be damned if Namjoon kills my pride tonight.

After all, I'm winning this game for him. What could he possibly have to say to me?

"You're cute, you know that?" Namjoon stops several feet from me and the fluorescent light above us shines on him and makes his skin glow. "You play so well. It's a shame I didn't discover you sooner. I would have been much richer a long time ago,"

"What do you want, Namjoon? You aren't exactly helping by showing your face near me. It makes me want to vomit," I spit at him. "How do you expect me to play now that you've made yourself known? I'm fine pretending you don't exist!"

"I do what I want, I thought you'd have known that by now," Namjoon says back. "Oh Yoongi. So small and fragile in this big, mean world. You think that you know everything? You think that you have everything figured out, but you don't know shit. Always thinking you are in control,"

"I don't think that anymore, thanks to you," I say. "Did you send that scout to me? Is he legit?"

"If I tell you, would you believe me?" Namjoon questions with a sly smirk. Reluctantly I shake my head. "Ha, like I said...so obedient these days. If it's any consolation, the American scout is legit. I don't have anything to do with him,"

I scoff at his easy answer. "Yeah, right,"

"It's true. There were a lot of scouts after you, Yoongi. My friend wasn't the only one. You saw the news, the media, the papers...everyone wanted a piece of you until you decided to stop playing. You did that to yourself, you know. You have no one else to blame but you," Namjoon makes a tsking noise and it sends a cold sensation through my bones.

He's not wrong.

"What do you want, Namjoon?" I repeat my original question with a little more confidence. "The game is about to start again, I need to get back,"

"Fair enough," Namjoon bites on his cigar with a smug look. "I have a simple request, that's all,"

"And what's that?"

"Throw the game, Yoongi,"