Chapter 11

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Yoongi POV

Humming softly to myself, I run my gel covered fingers through my hair to finish off the look. Smiling to myself, I give myself a small nod before walking out of my bathroom. I've got one dark washed ripped skinny jeans and a black loose tee shirt along with my black sneakers.

Double checking that I've got my wallet and ID, I grab my keys and head out to my car. Looking at the clock on the dash, I smile seeing that in right on time as I pull out of my driveway. I flip on the radio and hum quietly to the music flowing out of it as I drive to the bar that Hoseok and I are meeting up at.

It doesn't take long and before I know it, I find myself pulling into a parking space. Biting my lip, I climb out of the car and head inside. Easily passing by the person checking everyone in, he just lets me go. With a small smile on my lips, I look around the crowded room in search of my new boyfriend. Well, at least, I think he is? I let him change the subject on Tuesday, and we never came back to it. Not agreeing technically whether we were dating or what exactly the fuck we are.

Humming softly as I look around for the brunette, I make a mental note for us to discuss what exactly is going on with us. We've been making out and sharing small kisses occasionally throughout the week, so I would kind of like to think we're together but I guess it's kind of a hard call.

Sighing to myself with a small frown, I decide to head over to the bar. He may just be running a little late. So, sitting down at the bar, I order myself a glass of soju and casually look around the room disinterestedly. Tapping my fingers lightly against the wooden counter, I let my eyes scan over the crowd. Across girls grinding on guys, guys grinding on guys, tons of different people just making out. However, my scanning comes to a halt as I spot a familiar head of brunette hair, the body attached pressed against a slightly taller body with a head of lighter brown hair.

Frowning at the sight, I pick up my glass without taking my eyes off of them. Taking a sip from it, I squint a bit in attempt to figure out if it's who I think it is. However, when they finally pull away and the familiar brunette turns to lean breathlessly against the wall beside the other, my mouth falls open as my heart drops. All I can do is stare for a few minutes at the two, heart shattering more and more the longer I look on.

Feeling my chest begin to constrict once again, I turn back to the counter and cup my glass. Trying to control my breathing, I knock back the rest of my drink in a heartbeat. The bartender refills my glass before walking away, Hoseok appearing just a few seconds later.

"Hey, Yoongi-ah." Hoseok greets happily with a smile as he takes a seat beside me. Closing my eyes, I refuse to even look over at him. It'll only worsen my condition at the moment if I do.

"Don't fucking 'hey' me. Just go finish fucking your boyfriend instead of wasting your fucking time here with me." I growl, knocking back the entire glass of soju before slamming it down and standing up. Hoseok looks at me with wide eyes, plump lips parted as he stares up at me. I don't give him a chance to say anything though, turning on my heel and storming out of the bar. As I step outside the bar, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Namjoon's number. I can feel it slowly growing harder to breathe, reaching my car and somehow managing to unlock it and slip inside.

"Yoongi? Hyung, what's up? Shouldn't you be at the bar with your boyfriend?" Namjoon answers, clearly picking up on the issue at hand.

"Fuck him. He can go rot in hell." I snap, my voice cracking as I slump into my seat, slamming the door shut.

"Ah hell. Fucking shit, alright, hyung. I'll meet you at your place. You don't worry about a thing and just try to make it back to your place safely. Okay, baby? You just make it back safely and I'll take care of the rest." Namjoon swears before cooing softly. Wheezing another breath out, I nod my head even though he can't see me.

"Okay. Namjoon. Thank you." I manage to get out before hanging up. Running a hand through my hair, I bring the other up to grip hold of my blonde hair tightly. Screaming out loudly, I slam my hands against the steering wheel before forcing myself to get a grip and drive off.

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