Seven Soul Ties

Whiskey

Five months ago

I suppose it was a very underhanded thing of me to do, but I hid Tae's iPhone and wallet when he wasn't looking. I needed a reason for him to come back to the studio, to come back to me.

I was unsure whether my plan would be successful, but it was the only one I had.

I had hoped that he would return on his lonesome, I really needed to apologize to him. I didn't know how – I really sucked at things like that. For what exactly I was apologizing for, I had no idea either.

Am I sorry for sleeping with him?

Am I sorry for my words that caused him to lash out at me?

I didn't know.

All I knew was that I had to make things okay again.

I grew up in a household that swept everything under the rug and carried on as if nothing's wrong. By trying that approach in my own life, I have come to realize that it ends up hurting people more, or leaving things unresolved beyond a point of repair.

With Taehyung, I wanted to avoid the latter at all costs. I cared too much – why, I couldn't think of.

I had stopped at the local liquor store on my way to work that morning, spending more time than necessary lingering through the aisles of the different brands of alcohol. Some local, some foreign. I weighed my options, thinking of every possible outcome each bottle represented. The wine – too formal; the beer – too sloppy; the vodka – too insincere.

My eyes rested on the whiskey aisle. My heart ached at the memories. It was whiskey that deduced my tears to nothing but salt water when my father passed away; it was whiskey that touched my lips after I slept with Tae; it was whiskey. It had to be.

Feeling somewhat satisfied in my purchase, I headed to work, hoping that we would later be able to talk over a glass of the stiff drink that brought us to this situation in the first place.

The shameless truth is I didn't regret sleeping with him. In that moment of vulnerability and loss of control; I wanted him, and his urgency in which he had returned my advances was evident that he wanted me, too.

He was caring and sweet to me after the fact, and I wasn't use to it. I panicked and I did the most Laine thing I could think of. I acted like a bitch, making him feel unwanted and rejected.

Granted, the timing of it all was way off, but then again, nothing of this situation was normal, or had been allocated perfect timing. I was a foreign worker, he was an idol. Those worlds were never meant to collide.

But it did, and I didn't want to let that go.

I deeply regretted my actions towards him, and I feared that he hated me for it. I haven't heard from him once in my three week absence. Then again – I hadn't reached out either.

All I was certain of was the knowing that he didn't deserve it – he didn't deserve any of it.

Styling him today was awkward; he wordlessly obeyed and didn't say much after. All the others celebrated my return, bombarding me with questions, which naturally went unanswered.

Another Laine thing I needed to stop doing. My life isn't a mystery.

They had left a few hours ago and should be wrapping up their interview soon. I made myself comfortable in a dark corner of the glam room.

I waited.

Please come back to me.

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