Language Barriers:Third Time's a Charm? (BTS FANFIC)

Chapter 4

Hey guys it's me! I know I don't really write much author's notes in this story, but I am for this chapter! I just wanted to say that I love BTS! And I know that's stupid bc I'm writing a fan fiction about them and all, so it should be obvious! But, I really do. I haven't obsessed this much over any band/ singer/ actor/ etc since One Direction and I love it and hate it! I'm like kinda concerned bc idk how imma stop loving them this much (I still haven't gotten over 1D, and it's been YEARS) but in the end I know they're doing more good than bad and it's okay to love a band that are this... well, perfect TBH. Anyways, I just wanted to rant lol! Sorry if I annoyed you! Leave a like and comment, maybe tell me what your first thoughts were when entering the fandom lol! I know mine were something like "oh shit. What have I fallen into. Great." So, anyways, enjoy this chapter! Love ya!

        August lay in bed most of the early morning the next day, staring out the window and contemplating life in general. Sometimes it was hard not to feel lost, like a sailor at sea, barely holding onto the small raft and surrounded by sharks. The ocean was rising slowly, threatening to drown him in salty water. He felt like he was going to suffocate beneath the lies and emotional agony he was in.

       Memories of Mason haunted him, and he regularly felt ridiculous for even thinking about him. It was as if he died. Mason had made himself completely absent from August's life, which he knows he should be relieved about because he shouldn't be obsessing over every little thing Mason does. They're over now- August was the one who left- and he has to move on. But, how?

       Why even bother when it hurts this much and relief from the pain is no where in sight? August can't help but flip through old photos on his phone and feel the tears slip down his face as he remembers when they were happy. Or so he thought. Along with hurt and confusion came paranoia. Like, if Mason was ever truly happy with him or if he was forcing a smile the entire time. August wondered if he was the only one pulling the cart while Mason sat in it, drinking wine with his legs up, along for the ride.

       He didn't like to think about these things, but they snuck up on him, stalking him until they attacked and it was too late. August frowned, breathing in the scent of freshly washed pillow sheets, and closing his eyes against the pain. Japan was almost quiet outside of his hotel, or perhaps that was just what he was imaging. Maybe he was the silent one today, eager to just relax and bury himself away from the impending thoughts of emotional damnation.

       August curled up into a ball and clutched his pillow tighter, like a safety net, and shoved his entire face into it, groaning in frustration. His heart ached with a need to do something. He felt incomplete, like he needed arms to hold him together, like he needed to punch the living daylights out of Mason. Too bad Mason had practically gone off his grid. Which said something considering the man was an A-list actor.

      "Boss?" Gerard asked, his voice resembling an almost gentleness. August made an incoherent noise of question, signaling him with a wave of his hand to continue before stuffing it back beneath the pillow for warmth. Gerard opened the door fully, now stepping into the room from where he'd previously just been peeking in. His tone carried through the bedroom, rough, but careful, "I just thought you should know that a maid just came in... talking about certain Seven Korean boys. Just wanted to mention it."

       August sighed pitifully, his face barely poking out from his hiding spot with slight interest, "Seven... you say?" He asked softly. He didn't want to get his hopes up and have them be destroyed.

      "Yes, she seemed very... excited... about having so many high profile guests to serve," Gerard responded, and August glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Gerard covering a smirk with a dry expression. August couldn't help but smile, a crease by the corner of his lips forming as he attempted to stop.