The Bare Truth // Yoonmin AU

제 1 장 -- YG

⚠️ YG.POV//Jayy ⚠️                                                                                                                 --1414 WORDS--

2018/10/14

Frustratingly fingering the keychain, I stood there attempting to shove another random key into the door. Rain running down my face like tears, I attempted to think back to yesterdays night, or should I say today's early morning, when the landlord presented me with the keys to the unkempt, unused and undecorated apartment that I currently reside in. With the million-and-one keys that weigh down my keychain, my tired and thoughtless mind and my frozen, wet fingers all attempting to work together, it took a dozen or so tries until I finally slotted the right key into the keyhole and was allowed into the small comfort and warmth of my still-empty apartment.

The apartment, although small and empty, brought a strange sense of calmness to my exhausted mind. Finally having this small space I could call my own almost made up for the years of suffering the numbingly boring day job that I had to endure. Hurriedly shutting the heavy, white door to block out the cold and rain, I shiver before removing my thin yet waterproof, black coat. Shaking out the coat to get rid of any excess rain droplets, I hang it on the old heater in my small, dimly lit hallway before walking through the bare living room straight into the kitchen.

Distantly recalling the events of the night before, I faintly remember checking my phone for the time when I arrived at the apartment at 2:04am last night. To my surprise, I was greeted by an older lady who was waiting at the doorstep to hand me the keys. We exchanged a few words as she showed me around the small, dusty apartment. She wandered around the apartment retelling the story of how she originally bought the apartment for her son who unfortunately passed away. I replied in short sentences and grunts, too tired to form full sentences.

"I apologize for the dust. No one has lived in the apartment for years." She reminisced as she ran her fingers on the nearly empty bookshelf in the corner of the room, collecting the dust on her finger before blowing it off.

"It's okay. I'll give this house a proper clean and restore it back to its former glory in no time." I gave her a half-hearted smile, about as best as I could do at such a late hour. Turning around, she warmly smiled back.

"Where are you from, boy? You don't have the typical Seoul dialect that is so common in Gangnam." She asked, her gently wrinkly eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Daegu." I replied quietly. I hadn't even noticed that I stand out due to my rather rough dialect, however, I hadn't particularly had time to pay attention to such trivial matters as I had so much to focus on. With the moving from one side of the country to the other, looking for a job, and suffering from homesickness, my week has been hectic and stressful, to say the least.

It took a moment for me to realize that I had spaced out and was currently standing in the middle of my kitchen staring at the heavy keys in my hand. My stomach growled, demanding food. Throwing the keys tiredly at the table, I groan when they decide to make my already numbingly boring day that little bit worse by sliding off the side and hitting the floorboards with an irritating clank. I drowsily make my way to the fridge, sighing when I open it to find almost empty, aside from last nights leftovers and some Soju. I open the leftovers however I decide that they don't look too attractive and instead reach for the Soju before leaving the fridge and heading to grab a small glass.

Rinsing the glass in the sink to get rid of any settled dust, I grab the Soju from the counter where I left it and pour myself a fair amount, not planning to do anything with the rest of my night. Watching the clear liquid pouring into the glass, I rub my eyes tiredly attempting to awaken them. I walk over to one of the drawers in the kitchen and rummage around in search for tape. Successfully pulling out a nearly empty roll of tape, I quickly grab scissors and cut out a small square before walking back and picking up the keys off the floor. Flipping through the different keys, I stick the piece of tape on the keys to the house to make them easier to recognize before throwing them on a kitchen counter. Dragging myself into my room, I open the creaky door to find a small, brown, energetic ball of fur that is my dog, Min Holly.

My baby jumps excitedly around my feet, bringing an instant smile to my face.

"I swear you are the first one to be happy to see me today." I chuckle as I pick him up into my arms and hug him, his wet tongue marking trails on my face as he leaves excited, sloppy kisses all over my face. Placing Holly back on the ground, I throw off my shoes and clothes before slipping into an old, washed out black shirt and downing my Soju glass. I place the glass on the little table beside the bed before making my way to the bathroom, Holly following my every step.

Quickly finishing my business in the bathroom, I return to my rather messy, small room. Getting into bed, I pull the thin sheets onto me before patting the space next to me, signalling Holly to get on. He swiftly and gracefully pounces onto the bed before patting down his spot and curling into a small ball of snoring fluff.

Envying his ability to fall asleep instantly, I grab my phone off the table and plug it into the charger on the floor before unlocking it and checking my notifications. Nothing out of the usual, I thought to myself, as I checked over the Twitter notifications of celebrities attempting to make a joke, Instagram notifications of people dying to inform everyone what they're having for lunch and the occasional subway surfer notification telling me to complete the daily missions, which I haven't done in months now.

Finally settling for Instagram, I scroll through the hundreds of photos of people doing something stupid or some fangirl having a fit. Deciding to move onto peoples stories hoping for some entertainment, I tap through rather quickly not paying much attention. Because of the rapid tapping, it took my brain a moment before it processed what I saw and made me tap back to the stories I have already seen. The story was posted by one of the many celebrities I follow. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just another celebrity posting about the incredible fun they're having eating dinner with their friends. The thing that stood out to me, however, was one of the other men in the story. It was a person I had never seen before. I'd remember a face like that, for sure. I couldn't put my finger on it but he stood out to me, there was something unique about him. Feeling drawn to the username, I click @jiminfp which takes me straight to his account. Quickly scanning his posts, I return to the top of his page and press on his newest post, which happened to be posted only a few hours ago.

Swiping through the few pictures, I admire him and his looks. He looked so casual and comfortable yet so good at the same time. Pressing the heart under the post to signal I liked it, I quickly come to the idea. Maybe if I comment enough under his post he will notice me. It's an irrational thought and naive, but I couldn't help myself. What's the worst that could happen? Pressing the little speech bubble to bring me to the comments section, I think for a second before my fingers hit the keyboard rapidly. I punch out the letters before reading it over. Taking a small breath, I hit send. Hearing the little ping of the comment being posted, I blew out my breath. This is the first comment of many.