I knew it was her who texted me; it couldn't have been anyone else. The only people ever to text me were Chanyeol or Michael. And seeing as Chanyeol was proudly standing next to me and Michael on his day off, I knew it couldn't be either of them. It was Jennie; I was sure of that.
On one side, I felt relieved that she didn't ghost me the way I assumed. That she hasn't given me a fake number just to get rid of me, as I thought after she hasn't returned any of my calls. But now, knowing she texted me back, I knew she just must've been busy. Naturally, though, me being me jumped to the worst conclusion possible.
Jennie said it herself. We were friends. She was genuine; it was obvious. There was no reason for her to give me false hope just to leave me hanging. I might have missed three years of her life and growth as a person, but I was sure that she would never stoop so low. No, that wasn't Jennie.
The worse part was, there were two sides to a coin. Although one of them was fairly pleasant, now that I was sure Jennie, and I were okay, the other was all but that. Because the other side of things was the knowledge that all I had to do was unlock my phone and check her reply to end my torture. And yet, I couldn't do so. Not when he was right here, watching me like a hawk.
So not only was I now utterly anxious about the prospect of bumping into the woman I definitely wasn't ready to see, but I also had the answer within my grasp and I could not do anything about it.
I was worried, terrified even, as the elevator ascended to the highest floor. Each second that passed felt like an hour and time became interminable. The only thing that assured me that the world hasn't come to a stop was the rapid beating of my heart as the numbers on the display kept increasing.
My breathing was becoming shallow as we neared the top floor, and I wasn't sure whether I would make it. I could hear the blood running in my veins, as my ears were ringing, and everything started to become blurry. My eyes refused to focus, as my reflection in the mirrors became indistinguishable. My hands became clammy as they began to sweat and shake. I desperately needed to hold on to something, but there was nothing that could possibly keep me together. My legs felt like jello and I was anticipating the moment they would just give up and let me fall to the floor.
I felt like a bird trapped in a cage and the walls closing in on me. I was becoming claustrophobic as the surrounding space appeared to be smaller by the second. And what was even worse, I was trapped with a predator who could attack any second. No, I didn't feel safe or relaxed at all. I was on edge, barely holding myself together, moments away from either a heart attack or a panic one. And I wasn't sure which was worse.
Not only were my hands shaking now, but my body began trembling as there were only five floors to go, and I felt my chest constricting, making it impossible for my heart to beat as forcefully as it wanted to. It felt as if my ribs were about to break and it was becoming painful. And each time I tried to calm myself and focus on my breathing, it only began thumping more vigorously than before.
Shallow breaths turned into ragged ones, as they were becoming irregular. However, I couldn't take deeper breaths in, this was as much as I could take. It was as if my lungs became the size of a dried plump, barely even there. And I couldn't help but wonder if this was how regular smokers felt. Thank god I've never put that thing past my lips because have I done so, I was sure that breathing would present an even bigger problem now.
It came to the point where each time I breathed in through my nose; I felt as if I was suffocating, so I inhaled with my mouth instead. However, instead of the lovely feeling of oxygen that I might have taken for granted until now, filling my lungs, I was met with tiny needles piercing through my dry throat.
I haven't noticed before, but my throat was as dry as a desert. It was painful to even try to swallow as there was no saliva to wet my mouth. I was grateful Chanyeol hasn't asked me any questions because I wasn't sure if I could answer. Running my tongue across my lips did absolutely nothing and with shaky hands, I reached into my purse for a chapstick after feeling my cracked lips. Have I looked as bad as I felt, I would've been embarrassed. However, Chanyeol didn't have any sneer comments about my looks, so I assumed I must've hidden it well.
One more time I tried to take a deep breath in, but as soon as I parted my lips, the double doors began sliding open. My eyes focused on the widening gap between the door as if someone was to appear suddenly, but I couldn't help myself. I kept them trained on it like a wild cat spying on its prey. However, I wasn't spying on anyone. I was just too petrified to look anywhere else in case I'd miss something.
The door fully opened and Chanyeol stepped out, leading me, with his gaze that turned to mine the second the elevator came to a stop. As expected, there was no concern on his face and I wondered whether I really masked my distress that well or he just didn't care. If the former was the case, I should definitely consider an acting career because apparently, I could do it quite convincingly without even having to try. One could say after the years I became a natural. Practice makes perfect, right?
As expected for a high-end office building, it was beautifully designed. The first thing I noticed was the slanted glass ceiling giving a direct way to sunlight, as it shone brightly inside. And yet there wasn't an insufferable heat inside, making me believe they had a good air conditioning system installed.
Everything was set in cool monochrome colors, giving the office a modern and clean vibe. Like just a spill of coffee would disrupt the perfection. The walkway from the elevator between rows of desks was empty, and we could walk freely without bumping into anyone. We passed a few desks, some of them empty, with just colorful mugs decorating their surface, some occupied with arms resting on top of them as the workers looked at their computer screens in thought.
No one noticed us at first, but as walked further down, heads started turning and the chatter inside the building subsided. It made me nervous how silence replaced the sound of urgency to get work done before due dates, and gazes were no longer focused on work, but on us. Everyone stopped what they were doing to take a peek at us, and I felt small under their gazes. I didn't belong here. All they thought of me was, I was a mere trophy wife that never had to work for anything in her life. Or at least it felt that way as they watched me, as if waiting for a moment I'd screw up.
At the end of the path from the elevator, we came to a sort of crossroad. To the right, there were even more desks, and at the end there were several offices with glass walls, not interrupting the way of the light through the big windows. I assumed that's where the most important people in the company must've worked at. The chief editors, chief photographers, and so on.
Unlike the regular employees (which must not be so regular if they were working at the very top), they not only had a desk with a computer but also a few shelves, a small couch in the room's corner, and a coffee table. I assumed those must've been there for when they had to discuss their work with others. And of course, each office had a unique piece of equipment, meant to serve whatever purpose its occupant specialized in. However, seeing as these positions didn't change very often, people personalized and decorated them with pots, plants, and other things to make them feel fuller and less dull.
Down the hall ahead of us, there were two elevators used by the employees. However, to me, two didn't seem to be enough for such a big building. But I thought maybe there were more down the hall. And also the stairwell for anyone who'd rather use that. However, before the elevators there was some sort of wooden decoration before a room, seemingly the only one that wasn't made entirely out of glass, that must've been the meeting room.
And finally to the left, there were just two desks, both meant for who I assumed to be the assistants, and behind them another huge glass wall leading to the CEOs office. Even from here, I could see just how big and spacious it was. To the right, I could see an opening that was probably leading to a balcony, while to the right there was a wall that held shelves with books, liquor, paintings, and other decorations.
I didn't have time to look it over properly though as a body shielded my view, "Good morning Mr. Park," a man with dark skin stopped in front of us with a beaming smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Ajala," Chanyeol greeted the man politely, "How's the article we talked about going so far?"
"We encountered some problems this morning, but we're working on fixing it. We shouldn't be behind schedule," he informed dutifully and looked over at me, "I see you've brought your wife for a tour today. My name is Cameron Ajala, I'm the editor-in-chief," he extended his hand, and I took it, shaking it politely. Though I felt quite awkward at the gesture considering my hands were still very much damp.
"N-nice to meet you," I choked out, "I'm Park Chaeyoung,"
"The pleasure is all mine," he grinned, "Anyway," he turned his attention back to Chanyeol, "I'll let you get back to your tour and I'll return to work so you can have the article on your desk by Friday," with a polite bow, he turned around and walked over to one of the desks, talking to one of the employees about what I presumed was the mentioned article.
"He's such a loser," Chanyeol snickered arrogantly and started leading me to his office, his hand on my lower back.
"Angela," he greeted his secretary as we passed her, not even sparing her a glance.
"Mr. Park,"
As we entered the office, Chanyeol closed the door behind him and I let out a sigh in relief. Sure, they could still see us, but now that the door was closed and Chanyeol was no longer among his employees, they all seemed to relax and averted their eyes back to their computers. I was grateful because standing among so many people was difficult. I tried observing my surroundings rather than looking at their faces, in fear I might spot a familiar one.
It worked for a while until Cameron approached us, that is. Looking around helped me distract my mind from the possibility that a certain pair of brown orbs might be amongst all the others, studying us as if we were a different breed. Their eyes on me felt highly uncomfortable, and so I looked at the beautiful office instead. And for a moment, my anxiety seemed to alleviate a little.
For just a moment though, because the second I heard a voice speaking to us, I was brought back into reality where I knew she existed. And I was back to the state in the elevator, shaken up, anxious, and absolutely terrified, feeling vulnerable as everyone stared. I couldn't blame them though, it wasn't their fault; I was their boss's wife after all and since Chanyeol had his own private elevator, a grand entrance was a kind of given.
So now that we were locked away in his office, I could relax. Not completely, of course. The thought still haunted me, but I was no longer shaking and my legs actually felt like I could use them.
However, I still felt like I needed a breather, so I did what I did previously to distract my mind from the things haunting it, and looked at Chanyeol's new office over.
Just like I've seen from the distance, there was a balcony to the right, and a regular wall lined with shelves and painting to the right. I was standing at the door still and to my left, there were leather couches with a coffee table in between, where I assumed Chanyeol seated his friends, employees, and business partners when they came over.
I felt awkward standing by the door, so I made my way to the middle of the room and my eyes averted forward. I had to admit, Chanyeol's office was pretty cool. At the end of the room, there was an enormous mahogany desk, that in my opinion, didn't fit with the rest of the interior at all, with a swirling chair behind it and two in front. But what caught my attention was the back wall that was lined with about nine television screens, each having a different news channel playing.
"Pretty cool, isn't it?" Chanyeol asked as my eyes stopped roaming the place.
"Yeah, it's a very nice office," I answered honestly.
"It's a shame," he ventured.
"What is?"
"The glass walls. I wish there weren't any here,"
"Why so?"
"Because this way," he smirked and walked towards me, his hands now resting on my hips, "We can't get freaky,"
Thank fucking God.
"What a shame," I said instead.
Before he had the chance to say anything further, there was a knock on the door, and the woman who I briefly remembered as Angela, came walking in, "Mr. and Mrs. Park, would you like me to bring you some beverages?"
"I'll have tea please, any kind you have," I answered quickly, hoping that the hot liquid would help to soothe my nerves.
It seemed like maybe she didn't work here after all. There was nothing to worry about. And if she has, she wasn't here, at least not on this floor. Of course, the thought of her working for Chanyeol still bothered me, but at least I didn't bump into her, which would be much worse.
Chanyeol had a private elevator which we could take and disappear, with no one really knowing, so unless she was up here, I wouldn't be seeing her.
Maybe I jumped to conclusions too quickly. There were reporters from more than just one or two companies at the ball. Just because she worked for one didn't mean she worked for this one. I mean, what were the chances. It would be just fine. Why should I stress myself out over something that probably wouldn't even happen?
Besides, I was sure I would see her if she was working here. Fate was always a bitch and found its way to bring us together. The fact I haven't seen her was just proof that she wasn't here. At least that's what I tried telling myself. It didn't really help at making me feel any less anxious, but I thought that if I lied to myself a little longer, I might believe it.
And then there was the fact that I could spot her from miles away. Have she been among the workers we walked by, even though I was directing my attention elsewhere, I knew I would see her. I always saw her.
"For you, Mr. Park?" Angela asked.
"Nothing, now scatter," he barked and the blonde-haired woman seemed to be taken aback by his tone, as she flinched.
He was still new around here, and so people didn't really know what type of person he was. Not yet. But they were bound to find out, as Chanyeol had his mind set on working here for a little while. Angela sure got a peek of what he was actually like and from the look on her face, she wasn't expecting it at all.
If I didn't know him, maybe I would think he was a friendly person too. I mean, he acted nice when it benefited him or when he tried to act like he was above everyone, as he looked down on them. However, when he got annoyed even in the slightest or had no reason to put up an act of being a decent human being, his real face showed. The arrogant, egoistic, rotten face that was permanently imprinted on him.
One probably wouldn't have guessed it from the somewhat charming smiles he displayed in magazines and at photoshoots. Even in the interviews, he sounded like a down to earth, humble man. But seeing as he benefited from those, he was, of course, playing nice. And if we were to speak from a psychological point of view, people trusted attractive people more.
He wasn't attractive to me at all, but seeing as women practically bowed to him, they must've disagreed. People were more likely to think someone was a nice person if they were good looking and went out of their way to befriend them, please them even.
Soon enough though, no one would perceive him as a nice guy and that knowledge brought me some satisfaction, as his assistant walked out of the office, clearly still bewildered at her boss's change of character. Didn't she know people were fake? Didn't she know that no one was real anymore, not the famous at least? Not the wealthy and the successful. I've met a handful, I'd know.
It wasn't just Chanyeol who would show fake smiles on the television. There were so many more from where he came from. I guess people just couldn't see it until they were "graced" by their presence themselves. I honestly pitted everyone who would have to report back to him. Surely it would be hard working for someone like him.
"Where were we?" he grinned as the door closed behind Angela and pulled me closer, his lips inches away from mine.
At times like these, it was hard not to shove him or back away. Not when that was what I desired to do most, as he invaded my personal space. I couldn't stand it.
Nothing about these situations was pleasing to me. Not the way he looked at me. Definitely not the way he touched me. And not his smell filling my nostrils like poison gas, making me want to gag.
It wasn't even that he smelled bad because of sweat or anything of that sort. He always showered first thing in the morning, applied deodorant and cologne so naturally, he didn't smell bad. At least not to the majority. I must have merely connected it to my loathing for the man because to me, he reeked. There truly wasn't one thing about him I could tolerate without wanting to barf.
His lips inched mine and sooner than I'd like, they were enveloping mine, somewhat tenderly this time. I figured he probably didn't want to provide a show for everyone in the building, so he refrained from deepening it or groping me the way he usually did. And as much as I hated it, I had to admit I felt relieved when his teeth didn't sink into the flesh of my lips forcefully, pulling on it and leaving a bruise behind.
Once that was finally over, he pulled away with a smile I was sure he intended for to be charming and ran a hand through his charcoal black hair, "It really is a fucking shame," he chuckled and I noticed his fingers pull on the roots of his hair, "I bet you would look sexy as fuck sprawled on my desk,"
I wasn't sure how to reply to that. Staying silent was never my best option, however, I was at a lack of words at his statement. He was bold, the way he always was, overconfident and surely he thought statements such as those were arousing. But this time around, I wasn't sure what reaction would be appropriate. However, I knew punching him square in his face was not one of them.
So seeing as I had nothing to say to his comment other than "Fuck off,", I chuckled nervously instead, hoping it would be enough.
"Are you shy, baby?" he asked further, clearly teasing me.
"I guess you could say that," I shifted in my spot uncomfortably and his eyes moved down from my face to my cleavage, traveling even lower and taking my body in. He didn't even attempt to be subtle, and I felt my skin burning under his gaze. Not in a pleasant way where you want to rip your clothes off, though. More like in a way where you want to claw at your skin because you don't feel comfortable in your body upon being stared at like you're a piece of meat.
"Ugh," he groaned, "It's so hard to control myself when you're all needy for me,"
Excuse me, what now?
"I have to distract myself or I'll drag you to the restrooms. So let me introduce you to the most competent people around here. Not that there's a lot," he laughed and sat behind his desk, motioning for me to walk over to him.
As I did so, he jogged his chair back slightly and pat his lap for me to sit in and pat his lap for me to sit in. Of course, I wasn't a fan of the idea but did as I was told nevertheless, not wanting to start another meaningless argument.
He grinned at me, one of his arms wrapping around my waist and securing me in place, the other reaching for the phone sitting on top of his desk. Lifting the black piece of plastic to his ear, he held it up with his shoulder while his fingers moved swiftly across the buttons, tapping on the one connecting him to the second secretary sitting outside.
I didn't notice her at first, and Chanyeol hasn't greeted her either upon our arrival, so I figured she must've been doing some other work as she wasn't sitting outside behind her respective desk. Her hair was brown and tied in a ponytail, and from where I was sitting, I found her intimidating. She wore no expression as she looked stoic and filled in whatever paperwork was on her desk.
However, her work was interrupted as the phone sitting idly next to her rang, forcing her to abandon whatever work she had going on, and take the call instead.
"Yes, Mr. Park?" her voice resounded through the speaker as Chanyeol placed the receiver back into its place.
"Could you please get everyone from the editorial team into my office?" he asked politely, which was honestly quite shocking.
"Of course, Mr. Park. Anything else?"
"That will be all," and with one press of a button he ended the call, and I watched his secretary push a few buttons on the dial pad as she proceeded to make a few calls. And though I was supposed to avert all my attention to the man in whose lap I was sitting, I couldn't help but watch her from the corner of my eye.
I was nervous, that was for sure. Each time her lips moved as she spoke words I couldn't hear, my heart rate sped up again, the exact same way it has when we were nearing the office building on our way over here. I couldn't help but think of her again and my hand was itching to dive into my purse and grab my cellphone that surely had the answers I was once again dying to know.
After we were in the remote safety of Chanyeol's office, I let my mind catch a break and instead focus on everything but the message I received from who I was sure to be Jennie. I tried to pursue myself not to think of all the possibilities and rather unwind a little, to give my heart a break. And after not seeing her at all during the time I've already spent here, I let myself believe that maybe fate didn't want to be cruel for once.
I didn't even let the thoughts of her potentially being in the restroom or walking around the building enter my mind, liking the idea of her not being here at all, much more. But now that I was bound to meet around four new people, the bubbling sensation of apprehension was back, and this time perhaps, stronger than before.
Because this time, there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and nowhere to excuse myself. I was to meet eye to eye with people I had never heard of before, which in itself wouldn't pose a threat if there wasn't the possibility of one of the people being Lisa. Now, my stomach was tight with apprehension, and I started to feel sick. For real this time.
Chanyeol started talking again, I heard his voice muffled with my own thoughts and the rushing of blood in my ears, and I couldn't will myself to focus on his words. There wasn't much time left. Soon there would be people strutting into the office with bright smiles, trying not to look annoyed to be brought out of their work just for the sake of me meeting them.
The minutes that passed until the double doors swung open were the most agonizing minutes of my life, and each second that I watched tick away on the clock situated on the right wall made my heart leap. Everything around me became white noise as my eyes could only focus on the small group of people approaching us, I spotted making their way down the hall towards the office.
At the exact moment that the door opened before them, my heart stopped beating altogether, and all that I could do was stare. They approached the desk, two men in the front and more people in tow, and as they reached it, they spread out, standing in line as if presenting themselves.
I could see them clearly now, and my breath hitched.
"Chaeng," Chanyeol spoke, barely pulling me out of my trance but once he attempted to stand up, I clumsily scrambled up to my feet, eyes not daring to look up, "I would like to introduce you to our editorial team,"
I had no other choice but to look at them, seeing as not doing so would be considered rude, and so I did. I looked up, and I felt the knot in my stomach tightening as they were looking down at me as if they knew. And as much as I refused to look into their eyes, I knew I had to.
"This is Cameron, the editor-in-chief, but you've already met him," he introduced us again and I muttered a quiet "Hi" after I indistinctly heard him say something along the lines of "Hi again,".
"And this is our creative director who makes sure everything looks on point, Brianna Flynn,"
"Nice to meet you," the woman extended her hand, and I shook it, however, I wasn't really present.
"Nice to meet you too," I muttered.
After introducing me to two more people whose names or positions I didn't bother to remember, Chanyeol engaged in conversation with them about things I did not know of, and so I stared down at the ground. She isn't here, I almost said it out loud but caught myself before the three words had the chance to escape past my lips, in what I knew would be an incredulous breath.
For once, life didn't seem to want to make things harder for me, and though I still felt positively sick, I could breathe properly. Relief washed over me in what felt like a tsunami wave, and yet, I had a hard time composing myself. Up until now, I haven't realized just how on edge I felt this entire time until I was sure I was safe from her eyes. That the person I dreaded to see the most, but somewhere in the back of my head hoped to see, wasn't here.
No longer did I have to be terrified of the probability of running into her, and though I felt so much lighter, a part of me felt, maybe even disappointed. However, I knew it was better this way, and so I pushed the selfish thoughts of wanting to see her into the back of my head.
My heart was slowing down in its restless pounding against my ribcage, and with each breath I took, my lungs seemed to expand into their original size. I was still shaking in the aftermath of my intense apprehension, however, it was dying down and soon I didn't feel like the ground beneath me was moving. I was going to be okay. Today wasn't a complete disaster. And though I couldn't mentally prepare myself the way I wanted to, I was glad it ended this way. That I successfully avoided the encounter with the photographer.
However, I still couldn't focus on anything at all as the wheels in my head continued spinning out of control, as if trying to catch up to the things my body so miserably failed to. I was drowning out the conversation going on around me and for once I wasn't worried I might miss something because I knew it didn't involve me at all. And even if it did, I couldn't be bothered to pay attention.
"Chaeyoung?" Chanyeol's voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I lifted my head to look at him.
From the look in his eyes, it seemed like this wasn't the first time he called out to me, as his eyes were conveying a silent message, "We'll talk about this later," and I knew he must've taken it personally. It wasn't like I deliberately ignored him, but it didn't seem to matter whether I did it on purpose. In his mind, I was ignoring him and disrespecting him before his subordinates. And I already knew I would grow to regret it.
So I tried to answer with the sweetest voice I could muster up, hoping it would do some damage control and relieve some of his apparent anger, "I'm sorry, yes, honey?"
"I have to go take care of something, will you be okay by yourself for a while?" he gritted through his teeth, a pained smile etched across his features, as he tried to look nice before his juniors, but clearly wanted nothing more than reprimand me for my shameful actions.
"Yes, of course. I'll miss you though," I tried again, giving him a hopeful smile.
His eyes seemed to soften a bit at my words, however, he was clearly still not satisfied. Nevertheless, he leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to the apple of my cheek before pulling away, "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in a bit," and with that, he left the office, with the editorial team in tow.
I watched him closely until I saw him disappear behind a corner, and as soon as he was out of sight, I emptied the contains of my purse on his desk, not having the patience to look through it. Raking through the items that have fallen out of the bag, I saw my phone, half of it covered by a pouch that made it harder for me to see it at first.
Silently cheering in victory, I grabbed the phone in supersonic speed, not being able to hold off the need to know Jennie's answer for any longer. However, before I got the chance to turn the screen on, and at least read it through the notification that would surely flash across my lock screen, I heard the door open again, the sound of heels clicking against the marble tiles accompanying it.
Throwing the phone on the desk, I whipped around with an innocent smile, only to meet Angelas the blue eyes, who looked fairly perplexed at my behavior. However, if she suspected I was up to no good, she said nothing and politely smiled instead, "Your tea, Ms. Park,"
I sighed in relief. At first, I was scared Chanyeol returned for something he might have left behind - though the sound of heels didn't exactly match him. As always, I was terrified at the prospect of getting caught, and being inside his own office when he might have been just behind the corner was even more nerve-racking. So when my eyes met Angela's soft ones, instead of Chanyeol's pointed ones, as he always looked at me as if searching for secrets I've kept from him, I couldn't help but feel like a rock has been lifted off my chest, "Thank you, Angela,"
With a curt nod and a surprised smile, probably not expecting to get decent treatment after my husband was so rude to her earlier, she turned on her heels and walked out of the office, leaving me alone once again. And hopefully, this time I wouldn't be disturbed.
However, just as I reached for the phone again, I halted right before my fingers touched the device and retrieved my hand. Instead, I looked behind me, paranoia taking over me, to ensure no one - especially Chanyeol - would walk in on me this time. After assessing the situation as relatively safe, I turned back again, facing the glass wall with my back, and took the phone in my hands.
Giving it another thought though, I walked towards the balcony before opening the phone, not wanting to risk it. Once I was outside, the air hitting my face and ruffling my hair, as it was much stronger up here, I sat down into one of the chairs and held the phone in my lap, screen facing upwards.
What are you waiting for? I asked myself, as my fingers were just itching to press the power button. And though I've been awaiting this moment for what felt like an eternity, I was scared of the answer she would give me now. I mean, she obviously didn't work here, that was no longer what I feared. This time, I was afraid of her reaction.
I doubted Jennie would just tell me as if it were no big deal, I was asking questions about her best friend. Because even though it seemed like we ended things on good terms, I knew it wasn't right. At least not without an explanation. And I sure as hell didn't have the time to explain when I was stuffing my phone behind the waistband of my pajama shorts, terrified of getting busted.
But Jennie wouldn't understand that. How could she, when she had no idea? I didn't tell her anything about my life with Chanyeol. She didn't know how things were between us. She only knew it all started as a sort of arranged marriage. But for all she knew, I was happily married to the man I loved. I mean, I never said those words exactly because the thought of a lie so big made me physically sick to my stomach, but I was sure she saw our pictures and interviews in the media. And they painted us a picture-perfect couple. There wasn't a reason she would think otherwise.
Although I was nervous, I mustered up all the courage I had left in me and pressed the power button on the side of the phone. I waited for a second, maybe even two, before furrowing my brows in confusion and pressing the button again. And just like the previous attempt, nothing happened, and I remained staring, at a locked phone.
"What the hell?" I murmured under my breath and pressed the button several times in a row, probably more forcefully than necessary, "Fucking work," I groaned and for a second I could've sworn I heard the phone cracking in my hold, "Shit!"
Of course, of all the times I've forgotten to plug my phone in, it would be today. And of course, just as fate would have it, it would only run out of power once I actually got the chance to check it. Of fucking course, I shouldn't even be surprised at this point. With another groan, I resisted the urge to throw it over the balcony down into the streets below. There was no point.
Running a hand through my hair in frustration, I groaned angrily one more time for good measure, knowing I should vent out as much pent up frustration as possible once I got the chance. I couldn't risk having too many suppressed emotions and snapping in front of Chanyeol once he'd get on my nerves, and my frustration indulged self, decided to fight for once.
With an exasperated sigh, I turned on my heel and walked back inside the office. However, I halted the second my heels came in contact with marble tiles inside, shifting from the concrete ones on the terrace.
My jaw slacked, and I felt my eyes widen as my heart sped up in a matter of just a second. Eyes fixated on the couch in the office's front, my breath hitched in the back of my throat and my knees wobbled. No, this couldn't be real. I was seeing things; I must have. Yet, I couldn't will my body to move and let my hands rub at my eyes in disbelief.
I didn't even dare to blink, in case the moment would disappear the second I closed my eyes. But then again, maybe that was for the better. Because right now, I felt light-headed, sick to my stomach, and completely out of it as my heart trashed maniacally in my ribcage. And yet, all I could do was gape as if what I was seeing was a mirage. A painfully realistic hallucination that has been haunting my dreams since the moment I stepped foot in New York.
There she was. Beautiful black locks tied in a high ponytail, her side bangs framing her face, as she looked across the room, not registering my presence, that I couldn't announce. Not when my feet have grown roots into the ground beneath, gluing me to the spot as I tried to recall how to breathe.
Lisa was breathtaking, just as she always has been. And she was right in front of me, sitting on the couch, back straight, her fingers tapping against her jean-clad thighs. It was a habit I remembered her having whenever she got nervous, one that didn't seem to disappear. And have I not been on the verge of crumbling down, I might have even smiled.
I missed her so much.
I missed watching her without her knowing, noting all her details into my brain and etching them into my memory. The bridge of her nose, her plump pink lips, her chin, and her prominent jawline. Her long neck that I vividly remembered marking as mine all those years back, that made way to her jutting collarbones, I let my fingers dance over whenever I lied on her chest as the world behind her shutters disappeared.
And I didn't even realize when it happened, but suddenly, I felt tears prick at my eyes before falling. I didn't attempt to stop them. Not this time. When she was so close, yet further away than ever.
That's when she turned her head around, her eyes meeting mine across the room. And that one look was all it took for me to be taken back to all those moments I stared into her eyes as if they held all the stars in the universe, and whispered,
"Lisa,"