THE MANAGER NIM

68. BLIND FAITH

It's no longer the soft, sloppy drizzles. The furious droplets are cascading down the roof with notable rage. Upon this rainy day, you decide to unfurl your heart's desires to Jungkook.

But what if it turns out to be the biggest regret of your life?

Your heart slides the most terrible outcome discreetly and you hesitate a moment but the knock on your door suddenly turns you into a rebel against your pessimistic heart.

Heart hammering like a bird trying to escape its cage, you pull open the door expecting specific someone to stand on the threshold in a half-drenched shirt. But Maaran stands there, wearing his big, sweet smile. An invisible sigh escapes your mouth, dismay infiltrates your eyes.

Keen-witted Maran notices it. "Were you expecting someone else?" he asks, his radiant smile dwindling a bit.

"No! no, I was...just...never mind, um what's up? Why...you..." unable to finish the sentence with a mind as messed as a mud puddle, you ask the rest in gestures.

"Well, I need to talk to you about something" he rubs his nape with a lame smile and sorry eyes.

"Important stuff?"

"VERY" he whispers back with an unfathomable passion.

"Come in, then." You welcome him with a camouflaged hostility. All you want to do now is to barge into the room next to yours.

He walks in with a visible hesitation, but the stars in his eyes say he has something important to share with you.

"Were you sleeping, y/n?" he asks while eyeing the crinkled sheets on your bed.

"No, I was wide awake. What's the time? 12:30 am, which is technically midnight. I usually do strawberry farming at this hour, a favorite hobby." The irritation starts to bubble up your throat and comes out in the form of sarcasm.

He chuckles softly and shakes his head with the cuteness of a golden retriever.

"I'm sorry, I know it's really late. But I just couldn't sleep in peace without letting you know that..." he abruptly stops and looks into your eyes as if the rest of the words are hidden beneath your iris.

"Y/n, you know who I Am?" his quivering lips and wavering eyes makes you think about his not-so-deep question for a minute to give the answer he seems to expect.

"Maran Fernanshh blah blah blah! I don't remember." You say the lamest answer as always and his shoulder slumps in disappointment.

"Not that! Like who I am?" he repeats the last words with force.

"CFO of Amuze labels!" You say nonchalantly and turn around to smoothen the crumpled bedsheet. "Are you here to brag about_"

"Y/N!" he grabs your elbow and turns your around, making you face him. "Who I Am to you? Do you recognize me, dumb rat?" his firm grip over your shoulders threatens you to shatter you into fragments.

"I...I seriously don't understand what you're expecting as an answer from me, man! Like are you a famous actor who acted in Bahubali 3 or something? I am sorry, but it's been years since I watched movies, and I...or wait, are you a famous singer whom my granny brain is pathetically failing to recognize? You won't believe but I seriously know no shit about famous people these days. My brain belongs to an ancient museum and I'm really sorry but..." you blabber ceaselessly as his hungry eyes continue to glimmer with hope.

"DOBBY! SERIOUSLY, DOBBY?!" his voice mutes your rant in a swish and echoes through the room.

"Dobby? DOBBY?" a mind-numbing bell rings inside your mind and it unlatches an abandoned chamber of old memories in your mind.