"Oh please Jungkook, everyone knows you're just an innocent baby boy."
"Well, I guess not everyone knows me then."
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You're a 24 year old with big dreams and huge talent but no fame or money.
He's a 20 year old with big dreams, huge tal...
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"BITCH PICK UP YO PHONE!"
"Oh for fucks sake!" You curse. You run out of the shower to quickly reach your phone, clutching the small towel to your body.
Water drips from your body, creating your puddles across the floor of your room. Your feet slide, a shriek releases from you. You fear you're going to fall again but manage to keep your balance. You grab your phone, irritated that your own voice decided to interrupt the first shower you've had in days.
Working for Big Hit was a lot busier than you thought. You were so busy that you barely had any time to sleep, eat or even take a shower. Which for you was something you needed desperately since you spent most hours of the days dancing and avoiding Jungkook.
You answer the phone, your wet hands leaving water droplets on the phone screen.
"Hello?"
"Y/N?" Mr. Son's voice comes through your phone "We need you to come down to the dance studio NOW."
"What? Now?" you ask "But I just came back-"
"NOW." his demand cuts you off. He abruptly hangs up without waiting for a response.
You stare at the phone in disbelief.
"You're a pain in my ass." You grit your teeth at your phone and throw it on your bed.
.
Bursting through the doors of the dance studio, your lungs cave in for gasps of air. Your hands desperately cling onto the door handles, struggling to keep your exhausted body from crumpling into the wooden floor.
You didn't have time to dry your hair, but you ran so fast under the hot sun that most of your long brown locks were dry by the time you reached. Due to the short notice, you hadn't spared yourself a second glance in the mirror and had thrown on a pair of ripped blue jeans with a crop top, sprinting out of your apartment clumsily with your job on the line.
"Oh god!" A squeal rips from your throat as you trip, your own feet defying you as they fail to spare you any balance. Gravity pulls you down, smacking your body straight into the floor.
Limbs flailing, you ineptly try to regain your balance, forcing yourself to look presentable.
"Sorry-I-" your pants come to a stop and your eyes awkwardly gaze elsewhere as your brain demands you to think of an urgent excuse. "There was lot of traffic."
Mr. Son blankly stares at your dramatic arrival. "You only live a 2 minute walk from here." He states bluntly.
"Ah." Caught red handed, you laugh shakily in embarrassment. "Right, I forgot. Silly me."
Mr. Son doesn't spare you a second glance or a slight smile, shifting over to the sound system to end the pointless conversation. You swallow the uneasy lump in your throat, silently cursing yourself for being such a klutz.
