Evelyn
It's been less than a week ever since Jimin moved out and I still haven't grown fully accustomed to his absence. Waking up seems slightly more tolerable as I spend less and less time staring at the empty bed space next to me and I don't expect warm welcoming arms to wrap around my waist while I brush my teeth in the bathroom, nor do I anticipate having his mouth-watering Saturday pancakes tomorrow morning.
I don't expect anything anymore.
I just want to stop thinking about him.
But the soft Nirvana T-shirt that he's forgotten in our once shared closet is now wrapped around my body, with the remains of his woodsy scent encompassing me and for a fleeting moment it feels as though he's physically here.
The little fantasy that has been dancing aro in my mind, unfortunately is short lived. When I turn to my side, I'm facing an empty wall and just like that I'm back to being downhearted.
If there's one good thing that came out of this breakup, is that I'm becoming more productive and active every day. When it concerns my studies, I use my assignments and my projects as an excuse to keep my brain busy in order to prevent myself reminiscing all things Jimin. I even found a new job at a café called Jerry's near the university and to my surprise it pays well enough that I don't have to move out of the apartment since Jimin no longer lives here to help with the rent. Moving out was one of my biggest concerns because I didn't want to have to go back to living at the university dorms nor did I want to go through the hassle of packing and organizing all of my things before leaving.
However, once I'm finally catching my breath, I need to face the cold reality of being all alone in an empty apartment. And there's nothing more I loathe than that.
I mean, doesn't everybody hate being alone?
I'm currently just sitting on the couch watching 'Community' on Netflix with a pillow tucked in my grip and once the episode comes to an end, I decide to get up and head back into my room to change into something more comfortable, since I don't have any plans with friends tonight. I open my closet and take out a pair of lemon colored satin pajamas then stare at the other empty half of the space that used to be occupied by Jimin's stuff. That's when I notice a black waterproof case leaned against the wall with the word 'Senso' written on it in that means war in Japanese.
I pick it up from the floor and unzip the top part of the case until the tsuka, aka the grip and the guard are revealed. Jimin had told me that when he was little, he had practiced kendo for approximately fourteen years, but then he quit because he had an injury on his lower back followed by intense pains on his right elbow that led to limited movement. It was one of his biggest passions growing up and I remember how he told me that he cried for two days when he realized that he couldn't continue pursuing it without jeopardizing his health.
I'm tempted to keep this, but I know that I shouldn't because his kendo sword is something that he treasures to this day and it would cause him serious distress if he realizes that it's gone. Besides, I am no longer worthy of keeping the last remnants of his childhood.
I zip up the shinai back into its case and cast it aside on my bed before grabbing my cell from my nightstand and I begin texting him.
Evelyn Price: Hi Jimin, I hope you've been doing well...I just want to tell you that you forgot to take your shinai with you. Mind telling me your address so that I can drop it off?
I hit send and I check my phone after a few minutes only to see that he's left me on read.
That's cold.
Was I being intrusive? Rude? I don't think so.
Evelyn Price: Are you busy right now? I'm only asking you, because I have work tomorrow and I don't know if I'll be able to give it back to you.
I know how important your shinai is to you.
This time he doesn't even bother to check my message.
Okay, what the hell did I do wrong now? He wanted space, so I gave him the space he needed, he wanted to break up because I fucked up, we broke up. Now I want to do something right for once and he's ignoring me and he's not even being discreet about it. I begin typing another message, my emotions brewing over the top and I'm ready to combust.
We both know he's active, so why does is he dodging my messages like they're fucking bullets?
Evelyn Price: look, I know I fucked up over the course of our relationship and all I want to do now is make things right between us. And by that I don't mean winning you back or anything. I just want to give you back your stupid kendo sword because its part of your childhood and its so fucking important to you. Why are you ignoring me when all I want to do is return something you value?
I hit send.
I want to get rid of it because I don't want to have anything in my house that reminds me of you. It already sucks that you're gone, and it's even worse that I'm wearing your Nirvana T-shirt every night when I go to sleep because it's the only fragment of you, I have left. I work my ass off every day, because work and uni help keeping my mind off you. I miss you so fucking much and I need you, but I know that I have to let you go if that means you'll be happy. So just please, answer my fucking texts and give me your stupid address so that I can do at least one thing in my life the right way. I begin to type, but I delete this massive text once I realize how pathetic it sounds and I throw my phone across my bed.
That's when I realize that sitting ducks in this apartment, crying and moping all damn day isn't going to get me anywhere. Right now, I need to get out of here even if it's for a short walk. I need to get my mind off this. He isn't going to answer no matter how many texts I send him.
I shuck on a pair of jean shorts and kick into some black Converse highs before grabbing my keys and my bag. Then I smoothen out my red curls and put on some mascara and lip gloss before heading outside with a black and yellow varsity jacket in hand.
The hallway of the apartment is cold and I take the stairs because I don't want to wait for the elevator and once, I reach the ground floor, I put on my jacket and leave the premises. The neighborhood is dark and quiet at this hour having only a few utility poles lighting up the road up ahead. The university is only fifteen to twenty minutes away from here by car, and the nightlife is quite active in Portland, especially on a Friday night.
The Jaded Sage is only ten minutes away from here on foot. It's not my kind of hangout and I'm not in the mood to search for another bar right now so I just walk ahead without thinking much. Once I finally make it to the Sage, I enter the crowded bar and pace towards the counter where a familiar looking auburn-haired bartender is taking out bottles of beers from their crates and places them in the fridge according to their brands while another guy is sitting all alone one of the bar stools. When she finally turns around, her sharp blue eyes find mine and a smile rises on her face.
"If it isn't pretty boy's girl." Eugenia says with a smirk. "Or should I say ex-girlfriend."
"Hello, Eugenia." I mutter as I take a seat at least two stools away from the other guy. "How have you been?"
"Better than you, it seems. You look like you thought that taking a shower and jumping right outside without any further preparations means that you look decent, only you got lazy and forgot all about that shower." She says bluntly, her voice laced in a heavy Russian accent. "I recognize that shirt. It doesn't belong to you."
"So what?" I ask. "You want me to take it off and leave it on the bar so that you can give it to him yourself?"
I never liked her. She was always too transparent with her words. And she's close with Jimin. As immature as it sounds, I was always jealous of the little pet name she called him, because he was mine. I knew that nothing would ever happen between them, since she has a son, but it irritated me every time she would call him 'pretty boy' in front of my face. It was almost as if she was challenging me. Trying to get a reaction out of me.
Eugenia laughs. "Relax. I'm only messing with you." She proceeds placing bottles of beers on the fridge when she asks, "What are you going to have?"
"Whiskey." I say. "On the rocks."
"Alright," She takes a double Old-Fashioned glass from one of the shelves and places a two-inch ice ball in it, right before pouring some of Jack Daniel's. The ice melts a lot slower than with regular ice and that way, the sweet toasty oak of the beverage doesn't get watered down.
"Thanks," When she puts the glass in front of me, I raise it to my lips and take a sip, tasting hints of caramel intermingled with touches of smoke and spice. Just perfect.
"Why are you alone here on a Friday night?" She asks, a poor attempt to make small talk if you ask me, but I cave in nonetheless. "Don't you have better things to do other than drink your sorrows away?"
I raise my glass, before taking another sip. "Don't you have customers to serve?"
"You're petty." She huffs. "You're not handling break up so well. Want to talk about it?"
"I think you should stop fraternizing with your customers."
Her cold blue eyes drill into my skull when she speaks, "Last offer."
"Jesus fucking Crist Eugenia, do you have to know all your customers personal life in this damn bar?" Somebody suddenly snaps out of nowhere and I turn on the bar stool, only to face a dark-haired man with pale skin and dark circles hanging under his eyes. "She doesn't want to talk, just respect that and be quiet."
"Someone's on their period." Eugenia comments and returns to putting the bottles of beers in the fridge. "And I don't mean you Evelyn."
She finally leaves me alone.
"Thanks for that." I say to the man and he nods uninterested.
When I return to my drink, I can feel the man's eyes on me from two stools away and I tilt my neck. "Can I help you?"
"You look familiar." He mutters, a tall glass of beer sitting in his grip.
"Really?" I snort. "Is that all you got?"
"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not flirting with you." He throws then runs a hand through his dark hair. His triangle shaped eyes widen in shock, "Shit, you're Seven's ex!"
"What?"
"Seven-fuck, I mean Jimin. Park Jimin."
When Jimin's name comes out of his mouth, I look at his round face carefully. His eyes always look relaxed and they have a rather deep crease. Dark lashes frame his eyes while his nose has a round bridge. I notice the smallest slit on his left eyebrow, its barely visible but it's there and it makes an interesting contrast with his calming demeanor. If I'm being honest, his face looks rather familiar and my eyes fall on the black windbreaker occupying the stool next to him and that's when I realize that I've seen this guy hanging around Jimin at the university the past few days. I didn't pay much attention to him though, because I was too busy staring at Jimin, but I'm sure that this is one of his friends.
"I'm Yoongi," he finally introduces himself. "Min Yoongi."
"Evelyn Price," I say and takes his glass and windbreaker and comes to sit next to me.
"I know," he mutters. "Jimin wouldn't shut up about you when he moved in."
He talked about me?
"You guys are roommates?" I inquire.
Yoongi shakes his head. "Nope, he lives across the hall and frankly we're not on speaking terms at the moment."
"How come?"
"I took advantage of him, when he moved in and I didn't apologize for my actions yet." He says rather straightforwardly and I stare at him. "I'm not good at making amends with people, because the damage I cause most of the time, is irremediable."
"Yeah...I feel you on this one." I say in a whisper as I raise the glass to my lips.
"What kind of damage did you cause?" He asks me and I give him a look.
My finger grazes the rim of the glass and I trace shapes on the frosted areas of the surface where water pearls up and drips down on the wooden counter. "I just met you. Why would I share such private information with you?"
"Because you have no one else to talk to."
"I have friends you know."
He laughs to himself, "Sure, friends you consider deceiving cunts because they don't know how to keep their mouths shut. Besides, if you had someone to talk to, you wouldn't be here having this conversation with me."
I tighten my grip around my Old-Fashioned glass. My cheeks heat up and it's not because of the whiskey.
"What do you even know about me?" I ask. "We just met."
He shrugs. "I see things."
"What kind of things?"
"I saw you." He says swiftly. "Around."
"Can you rephrase that in a way that it doesn't sound creepy?" That seems to earn a deep chuckle out of him and he shakes his head gently.
"I've seen you before sweetheart. At PSU." He finally reveals. "Your hair color stands out in the crowd. It's pretty."
I'm torn between bolting out the door and thanking him. He's a peculiar person and yet he intrigues me.
I want to talk to him.
And that is rare coming from me.
"Tell me your damage Evelyn." He says softly. "I'm curious. Come on who am I going to tell? Your ex or Eugenia? I bet it has to do with your ex."
"And what exactly would happen if I told you?"
His dark eyes shine with amusement. "I'll tell you my damage."
A moment of silence envelopes us while rock music is blaring from the speakers above us. Eugenia is watching us from a corner while brewing cocktails for a couple that just arrived and I just casually laugh while tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.
"Unfortunately for you, I'm not interested in your damage, therefore I have no reason to tell you mine." I say swiftly then down the rest of my drink. Yoongi's eyes are fixed on me when I lay down the glass and a slightly disappointed expression has taken over his already gloomy features. Who am I kidding? Someone like him can't handle all the shit that's circling in my head.
"That's too bad," he mutters. "Thought it would be easier for you to speak since you don't know me."
"Yeah, I think it's the opposite for most people." The sound of my phone ringing suddenly startles me and I take my phone out of my bag only to see Jimin's name lighting up the screen. "Sorry, I need to take this."
"It's him isn't it?"
I nod then get off my seat with my cell in hand as I make my way towards a less crowded space in the bar in order to answer the call.
"Hello?"
"What the hell Evelyn?" Jimin grits. "I wasn't even in the house when you texted me. I was fucking driving. What did you expect me to do? Fucking pull over just so that I can reply to a text message?"
"Jimin-"
"I've had enough of you." He snarls. "Really, you have no patience at all. Even when we're broken up, you still find ways to take control of every aspect of my life."
"It's not like that Jimin!" I say, my voice shaky. "I just wanted to make things right between us, by giving the shinai back to you."
"Yeah, and when you couldn't do it in your own time you fucking exploded. Just like you always do when things don't go your own way."
"Jimin, I'm sorry! I-I misunderstood." I mumble. "I thought you were ignoring me."
He sighs and it's like he's right in front of me as I picture him do this thing when he runs his fingers through his hair whenever he's had enough of my nonsense. "You know, the world doesn't revolve around you Ev. I wasn't even ignoring you in the first place. I was out with some friends."
"I'm so sorry Jimin." My bottom lip is quivering as I clutch the fabric of my shirt. His shirt.
"I'll just come by the apartment for the shinai while you're gone." He says and with that he hangs up before I get the chance to respond.
"Yeah..." I utter then switch off my phone as I spin around only to find Yoongi still sitting at the bar with his slit brow raised and a lazy pout sitting on his face with his empty beer glass next to him. I head back to the bar and when I take my purse out of my bag, I throw some money on the counter then offer him a thin smile before making my way outside into the cold of the night.
Even when I try to fix things, I end up breaking them further.
Why am I like this?
"Hey!" Yoongi's voice calls after me and I freeze in my tracks. "Wait up!" He finally catches up with me and grabs my arm. "You okay?"
"I'm peachy."
"Can you cut the shit for just one moment and answer me?"
I roll my eyes and brush past him. "Why do you even care?"
"Just because." He says swiftly. "Now will you stop being a pain in my ass?"
"You're the one who's pestering me."
"Evelyn..."
"Fine." I snap firmly. "I fucking hate myself Yoongi. I really do. For once I'm trying to fix the damage that I caused only to end up fucking it up further! And now Jimin hates me and he doesn't even want to come across me even if it is for a brief moment and that hurts." I stop talking, before I get the chance to overshare when I raise my hand to my mouth. I bite onto my nails when he tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs.
"You're a piece of work." He huffs then walks past me.
"Excuse me?"
"You're really that fucking stupid, aren't you?" Yoongi turns on his heels to face me with a stone-cold expression.
What the hell is his problem?
"Once you fuck up a relationship you can't just fix it out of thin air!" He practically yells at me. "You can't just barge into their lives whenever you feel like it just to 'make things right', because you're the one responsible for fucking it up in the first place. If you expect to be forgiven, it's up to the person you've wronged to decide whether you deserve it or not."
"I know that." I say lamely and he when he steps closer to me, I cower back on instinct.
"You know shit." Yoongi bites back. "You're not doing any good, by hunting him down. All you're going to do is drive him away even further and he's going to hate you more." His body is shamelessly towering over mine and I find myself gulping hardly, suddenly intimidated by the sharpness of his voice. His hair is dangling over his eyes, casting shadows over his already darkened eyes. The cruelest yet truthful words spill past their soft barriers of his chapped lips that form a sinister line.
A fiery animosity is burning behind his steel gaze and that stands as a warning sign for me to be really careful with my words.
"W-why-how do you know so much?" I stammer.
"I just know what kind of fucked up you are." He says curtly. "I recognize my own people."