part two of japan. you'll recognize something at the end :')
keep an eye out for a lot of angst coming soon.
please leave feedback in the comments! and as always, thank you for reading ♡
all my love,
krissy
❦
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
JIMIN DOESN'T CALL.
Soft rain patters against the windows of my dim-lit hotel room. A canvas lamp casts gentle umber-orange light across sliding doors separating the vast sleeping space, the white desk with its woven swivel, the sprawling bathroom with its startlingly expensive glass-walled shower.
An oversized shirt dips easily to mid-thigh as I spin lazy circles in my swivel, twirling a pen in my fingers, munching on wasabi peas while my phone's dial tone drags on from speaker-mode on the desk.
"The person you are calling is not available. Please.."
I suppress disappointment. My mind drifts dangerously to the same situation months ago—of countless calls and texts sent to Minseok in China. All of them greeted by radio silence.
A cold shiver runs through me. I shake it off with a big exhale.
The following afternoon, Ryu checks my Japanese pronunciation as Akari commands stylists--quite unnecessarily--to descend upon my face with powdered brushes, glitter, lashes. By the time the event sails off into commencement--the banquet hall filled with a sea of glimmering tables, the massive projector mounted, the podium decorated with red-white chrysanthemums--I'm a different person.
A rich swath of dark midnight blue sweeps in soft waves across my body. Sleeves glittering with silver cling to the length of my arms. A generous slit slips like water over one leg. My face looks nearly unrecognizable--lids darkened with shadow and navy glitter, a strange glow to my skin, thick waves of my short hair brushing my collarbones. Silver winks from my ears. There's a deep, alluring air to the appearance that tugs a smile onto my mouth.
"Oh, girl," muses Akari, waving my mascara dry with an excited hand, "you're going to get more than a dozen career offers looking like that tonight."
Still, in the blur of pleasantries and glamorous negotiations that follow, I can't shake Jimin from my mind. Though I understand full well that Japan's dal.komm line is facing crisis, I can't help the frustration that simmers in my stomach.
As we take our seats and the MC steps behind the podium to greet us, my eyes sweep across our glittering audience, wondering what it would be like, to be consumed by such a wealth-soaked atmosphere as he was.
