How To Be A Hoe

43 | Hoes And Halos

No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.

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Okay, but let's get one thing clear.

You did not run all the way to the airport.

Let's accept that. That shit happens only in movies.

Once out of the place, the first thing you did was look around frantically for a taxi. The first that caught your eye was an old, battered looking one, but the driver was sitting idle in the front seat. The lollipop in his mouth dropped to the floor when you knocked at the window—his eyes were perfectly round, and you were pretty sure he thought you were high.

Maybe you were. Metaphorically.

Panting, you told him the location Jungkook had texted you, pulling your dress up to mid-thigh to make it comfortable for you to move about. "And step on it."

The driver nodded hastily, before stepping on the gas.

Your knee bounced up and down under the hem of your black dress, body almost trembling in anticipation.

Sure, you had ran headfirst into the idea without thinking initially. But now, since you had time to think, you couldn't decide upon what you were going to tell Jimin once you found him, if you did.

You had panicked.

You had panicked really bad.

Fuck it.

You jumped out as soon as you reached the airport, smashing the door shut and throwing a wad of cash at the man. "Keep the change," you said distractedly (something you hadn't done ever since you'd first come to Seoul) before rushing in, narrowly dodging a car, ignoring the owner as he leaned out of the window and yelled at you.

The inside was jam-packed with people.

Forehead creased with worry, you chewed on your bottom lip as you scanned the crowds for a familiar blonde head. Passers-bys threw you strange looks as you rushed through, which was a given the moment you ran out the diner wearing a classy black dress, a freaky expression, and a pair of heavy-looking heels in your hands.

"Jimin, Jimin, Jimin," you muttered to yourself over and over as you pushed through hordes of people. "Find me, Jimin, please. Let me find you."

He wasn't there.

"Fuck my life," you half-groaned, pushing a sweaty hand through your hair. "Where did he go?"

The day was a busy one, you could tell by the throngs of people around you, even if they left a wide empty circle around you. Maybe I really should let him go, your mind whispered. Maybe this is a sign.

Hopes crushed, you looked down at the pair of heels in your tight grip, swallowing hard. How could you ever find him in this crowd? Humanity was suffocating. When you had first come, your excitement had overcome your fear, but now that the adrenaline was dying down, you were beginning to feel breathless with discomfort. Slowly, you looked up, squinting into the distance.

And then you saw him.

Up until that moment, you could never have thought someone so impure could look so angelic. But once you saw him, you could confidently proclaim that you knew what fuckboys with halos looked like.