Namjoon's Chance • KNJ

Twenty One

The morning of day three you got up and plugged in your phone, sitting on the floor, your back against your closet you watched it come to life. Since that moment you'd spent almost all of your time in bed, wandering only to the kitchen for water, and the bathroom. You'd left a note for the housekeeper to remove all the flowers and drop the food at the local homeless shelter. She'd done it so quietly you'd not even noticed her presence.

When it started buzzing and lighting up with messages in your hand you dropped it to the floor, watching it land face down. You weren't ready for this, you weren't sure you'd ever be ready for it. You stood and went into the bathroom. Your reflection looked bleak, remnants of your makeup still lined your eyes from the funeral. Your hair was a horrid mop of tangles, your skin pallid.

You turned to the shower rotating the handle to hot, and undressed tossing your faded shorts and tshirt into the hamper. You wished feelings were as easy to toss away, scrub off. You took a long shower, scouring your skin longer than it needed. When you stood in front of the mirror this time you looked halfway human again. You tugged on one of Jackson's shirts a pair of his shorts then made your way into the bedroom.

Your bed was a mess, you ignored your phone and ripped all the linens from the bed, they stuffed into the hamper nicely. Standing in front of the closet staring at the sheets and pillowcases your tears erupted again. Jackson hated the dark blue sheets, every time you changed the bed he'd grumble and complain until you switched back to white.

"It just looks cleaner." He wasn't particular about many things around the house, but this always hung him up. What a petty thing to care about now.

You went back to the hamper and tugged all the linens back out, you'd just have to wash these, you couldn't stand the thought of putting on the blue. Laundry started you finally sat against your closet again, full circle to where you'd started. You sighed and flipped the phone over.

71 missed calls

30 voicemails- Mailbox Full

129 New Messages

The overwhelming majority of calls and messages were from Woochun, you pulled up a text and read it, all the air leaving your lungs.

WC: We need to schedule time to go over Jackson's will, I know you don't want to hear this Y/N but I can't release his album until we speak

WC: I know you need time, but what would Jackson have wanted?

WC: At least tell me you're getting my messages and are thinking about what you want to do next

You didn't want to hear from him anymore, someone else needed to make these decisions, you weren't in any place to do it. You read the next message from Jay B, but it didn't make you feel any better.

JB: Hey pretty girl, message me when you're feeling up to it, we've got some things to discuss about Jackson's album

JB: I don't want to pressure you, but me and the guys hoped you'd be up to talking soon, this is probably the best moment to release his album, tell me if you think differently

On and on, message after message from his managers, his producers, his parents all wanting you to decide things that didn't matter at all to you. Even just the messages from your friends checking on you felt like too much obligation. Your chest ached, your head pounded and you just wanted to go back to bed.

You scrolled down the list of names and realized, Joon hadn't text you or called you at all. He knew you well enough to know you weren't going to look at your phone. You tapped his contact and hit dial.

"Hi beautiful, what's up?" Joon deep voice vibrated through the phone into your head, everything felt calmer.

"Can you come over? I just really need you to come over." You could hear music and voices behind him, which meant he was probably busy working in the studio or dance practice.