He felt that. The same feeling as yesterday. The same feeling of being watched.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
[unknown number] 9:13 AM
Hey
[unknown number] 9:13 AM
You dyed your hair again? I love your dark hair but the blonde suit you just fine.
[unknown number] 9:14 AM
The new hair is for the comeback, right?
[unknown number] 9:14 AM
I can't wait
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Comeback preparation was always exhausting.
They had around a week and half left before their scheduled comeback; The members were getting restless. They practiced, and practiced, and practiced until they perfectly nailed the choreography and the stage handling.
Taeyong went to his usual hair salon this morning, got into his private room customized for VIP customer right after he entered the facility. The hairdresser worked quick and neat, applying hair mask and vitamins as a treatment procedure before actually dyed his hair. The kind woman started a light conversation, chit chatting with him. Taeyong let out a soft laugh when the staff commented how amazed she was at Taeyong's strong scalp, surviving years of dye poisoning and bleach. Taeyong shrugged it off, replying with a simple 'Maybe I was born with that'.
This salon is his favourite. He found this salon during cherry bomb era and he always do his hair here since then. He knows almost every worker here, all of them signed a legal document where they will swear to keep his privacy and until now there is no leak and Taeyong was forever grateful for their professionalism.
There were no problems during his time inside the salon, but when he stepped out from the large building then he felt something crawling inside his guts. He glanced around, feeling paranoid. It was 9 in the morning and the street was not as busy as usual. Taeyong tugged his bucket hat down to hide his face more and fixed his mask, so that the only portion of his face visible is only his eyes.
The walk toward his transport was only a few feet away from the building, but Taeyong felt so unsafe he's all but ran to the black van. He didn't see anybody on his way, but he just knew that there was someone watching him. He grew to trust his instinct after being an idol for 4 years with notorious crazy fans on his tail.
He slammed the van door shut, ignoring the questioned looks his driver gave, and asked him to drive him back to the safety of his dorm.
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Back in the dorm, Taeyong splashed cold water into his face. He was standing in front of the large mirror inside the bathroom, hand ruffling the newly-dyed strands; he dyed it to a lighter tone of ash blond. He proceed to do his skin-routine and when he was done, he stepped out from the bathroom with towel hanging around his neck.
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Unknown Number
أدب الهواةTaeyong let out a frustrated sigh, knowing very well who the message is likely from. Just when he thinks that finally his day will become better, the universe chose to throw some shit into his life again. "Unknown Number" He didn't even bother to op...
