The Devil Dancer

Chapter Thirty Two

I turned on my cell phone for the fifth time this evening and spent a good few seconds staring at the flashing numbers on my screen blankly afterwards.

4.15 pm

Oh look at that, who would have thought that I've actually been sitting here freezing my ass off for a whole hour?

Not me obviously.

And totally not Jeon Jungkook.

I'm going to murder that guy.

No wait, on second thought I would probably just abduct him and then ship him off to some professional serial killer to do the job for me just so I wouldn't have to deal with the guilt.

Yup.

'Don't be late' my ass.

Today was already Saturday which means our theatre performance is now just a few days away. And although I think it would be safe to say that I have successfully mastered the script, I'm still a little bit nervous at the thought of performing in front of a crowd.

And thus comes in Miss Han who suggested that I get extra practice after class from the all mighty Jeon Jungkook himself.

We were supposed to be using the theatre space but since it was being prepared for the show soon, he offered to go to his shared apartment with the elites instead.

Being left with no choice, I agreed.

Plus I have to admit that I'm kind of curious as to how would their personal space actually looked like, knowing that it was a pent house and all.

And now guess who has been waiting like an idiot for the latter to pick her up?

It also doesn't help that the temperature outside is probably about less than 10 degree freaking celcius right now and I am still in my outfit that I wore to class this morning.

A class which was equipped with a heater.

Letting out another huff of cold breath, I stretched my neck for a bit when I noticed a couple stopping by to sit on the bench on my right, their voices reverberating through the bus stop.

"Baby, what do you think I should get for Hyera's birthday?"

"Hyera? Wasn't she the one who always liked to pick on you?"

"Yeah, but she is still my friend you know? Just because she treats me bad sometimes doesn't mean I have to do the same."

"Ah. Now I remember why you're my girlfriend."

Slightly interested in their conversation, I pretended to pick at my nails as I waited for the incoming corny line.

"Why?", the girl asked.

"Because you're so kind. And because I like you."

Because I like you.

Because I like her.

An image of me standing behind the door of the auditorium while eavesdropping on the guys last week flashed behind my mind and I had to control my cheeks from heating up.