God, I really need to see Soobin, he hasn't been out in 2 weeks and I just know Darla isn't doing a good job being his girlfriend.
"Yah, Beomgyu focus!" I hear my manager yell as I leave my keyboard isolated and untouched, just thinking about my best friend. With a heavy gulp sliding down my throat, my long slender fingers rapidly tap on the fragile keys every now and then looking up to see my writing. Ding! Ding! Ding! Continuous notifications flood my phone, don't pick it up Beomgyu, don't pick it up. Suddenly, a hand rests upon my stiff shoulder, everything is stiff until my colleague mentions a change in my schedule, "Beomgyu, turns out there's more hours added into your time in Busan. You need to spend one more day, Seo Min went to Daegu and won't make it in time." I then sigh, realising my demise. "Daegu huh, how lucky." She then giggles walking away.
Soobin. Soobin. Soobin. Soobin. He is everywhere. Head, heart, hands, neck, stomach. Blood. His name corrupts my body paralyzing it with concern.
Yes I'm still at work and its about 9PM, but it's break, giving me an opportunity to check my notifications and possibly call Soobin.
Darla
- - - - - -
OFFLINE
Today at 6:59 PM on 4 June
Yahh Beomgyuuuu
-read-
I'm not coming back home to Soobin today, my friends invited me for a sleep over.
-read-
I didn't tell him, I forgot, can you go see him?
-read-
Sorry but I'm in Busan for work, this night and tommorow.
This is why I should be concerned all the time, I clearly cannot trust Darla with Soobin, my poor best friend is probably waiting on me to call him so he can sleep. He is probably sitting on that goddamn balcony staring out at what he wants to set foot on, he is in a state of arcane. Hiding his clear misery from his best friend? If he thinks he is good at concealing it he would be so wrong.
"Breaks over! Office closes at 11PM." The arrogant yet reasonable manager of mine announces our dismissal time -which only makes me check the time to see it is 10:27 PM giving me approximately 30 minutes left to work. Can I just say my hands hurt like hell, like I never knew typing would fucking kill my hands, this isn't even my dream job which sucks even more. I wanted to be an event specialist, not some depressing office worker.
Type. Type. Type. Type.
Eventually time was up and I was dismissed, I could finally sleep in this luxurious looking hotel room, finally call Soobin. Finally feel at rest, finally think it all over.