Drunk On Jealousy || PJM Fanfic

1: Annoying Client

Don't you just love it when you wake up to the sun, shining brightly on your face? The birds singing their morning song and the sky, filled with fluffy white clouds. The grass, greener than ever. Not to mention, the sweet aroma of the pancakes your mother is cooking downstairs.

Hah... What crap! Don't make me laugh.

Nothing like that happens because life is boring. The same thing repeats everyday with few, to no changes. This is real life. You wake up, get ready, eat breakfast, go to work and come back home. That's it!

Life's always been that way; work then home.

It's an endless loop.

You sigh, ruffling your ebony colored hair in frustration. The sound of the director's pencil tapping the metal arms of his chair, bothered you. The studio was alive, as it was filled with more people than usual, today.

Sure, all the noise was bothersome, yet all you could think about was the extra cash that would fill your pockets tonight.

You glance at the camera resting comfortably in your hands, a small grin on your face. It was as if yesterday was your first photo shoot. Memories of the past years as a photographer fill your mind.

I'm lucky to get this job today I guess.

"AH! HE'S HERE!" One girl squealed, nearly fainting on sight due to severe fangirling. Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Fangirls these days...

Could they save it for after the shoot?

"HE LOOKS EVEN BETTER IN PERSON!" Another girl joined, not even caring about the others around her as she pushes her way into the crowd.

Pivoting on your heel, you face the drama, watching attentively from a distance. A man, a couple inches taller than you, enters the room. His clothes were tight, clearly displaying his toned figure without shame. He had only just set foot into the studio, yet it was already clear that his arrogance was assaulting your eyes.

"HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! OUR SAVIOR!" Another person squealed, in this case, the director.

"IT'S HIM, IT'S-"

"Park Jimin!" The director smiles, shaking the model's hand. The model, whose name you can assume to be Park Jimin, chuckles showing off his pearly whites.

"The pleasure's all mine." Jimin praised, earning a look of awe from the director, who you could've sworn at this moment, fell for the boy. "Please get changed, we'll begin shortly." The director says gesturing towards the back with his left hand.

"Ah, thank you! I'll get going now then," Jimin bows respectfully to his elder before being guided to the changing room by the stylist.

Then it happened, his gaze met yours.

You purse your lips in response to the tugging sensation in your chest. A cat like grin appears on his face, forcing you to break eye contact. You scoff.

What's his deal?

"Y/N! You have fifteen minutes to check the cameras!" The set manager calls over your shoulder as you run around frantically, assuring yourself that the shoot was going to be perfect.

It has to be... I can't afford to screw up.

Swiftly, yet quietly, you prepare the cameras, moving them slightly and making sure the lenses were clean.

Suddenly, the sensation of hot breath strokes your skin, sending a cold chill down your spine. You flinch, facing the guilty one immediately.

"So you're the photographer?" The boy with raven hair acknowledged, a somewhat amused glint in his dark chocolate colored eyes. You can't help but stare at him blankly for a brief moment.