Diamond in the Rough (Seventeen and Bangtan Fanfic)

12: The Other Side

On the other side of the one way mirror, Rika's eyes widened and she felt adrenaline rush through her veins as she saw Hyorin smirking back at her. It was after all her work for the day and she was just lying on her mattress, watching Seventeen practice. That was when Hyorin barged into their training room and demanded that she was the mystery singer.

No...

You can't...

do that....

Rika's breath hitched abnormally and she panicked. In the other girl's hand was a needle, filled with some sort of bluish liquid of god-knows-what. And that needle was angled towards Jun's neck as Hyorin discretely placed her arms around his shoulder while facing the other boys, hidden from their sight but in full view for Rika. It was so menacing. 

Rika closed her eyes as Hyorin kept on chattering to the boys in her annoying voice, completely oblivious to the discomfort she was creating for everyone. 

.

.

.

"Hyung? Keurae Rika-dongsaeng. You can call me Jun hyung if you want, but someday if you get more comfortable, then call me Jun oppa, arraseo?"

"I forgot to say, Rika, thanks for always taking care of us so much."

"You know, we always save your honey lemonade drinks until the last hour of practice, because it's like a hard-earned reward that keeps us going. That's how much of a support you are to us."

.

.

.

Jun...

Hyorin must've known, that's why she's threatening me with Jun, Rika thought. 

"You better sing" Rika heard Hyorin's warnings echo in her mind.

_____________________

Rika's POV

For the first time, I said no. I chose to do something for myself, and all she did was laugh and walk away. 

Now I see why. 

I watch as she turns to stare at me expectantly through the glass with a smirk on her lips. I don't know what the hell is in that needle but there's no f-ing way I'll let her touch Jun. Not Jun, the first person to care for me in my entire memory. That boy with his handsome face and boyish smile, his heartfelt eyes and warming voice....

The memory of me sounding so brave, so strong, daring to disagree with her and telling her that I'l never sing for her again rushes back into my mind and I feel my lips tug bitterly. 

Why did I even think I could stand up to her? 

When did I ever win against her, against anyone, for that matter?