"Saying a word to him will ruin your reputation, y/n.".... "You're exaggerating."
As you read the school's newspaper, you retract your previous statement, "...maybe you weren't exaggerating."
[no translations are accepted, please do not repost my wo...
"Okay, this is the dress you're choosing?" Jisu asks, holding up the beautiful dress. "Yeah.." You reply, taking the pretty gown from her in awe. "Great. Now, let's go shopping!" Jisu folds the dress in her arms and starts heading downstairs. "What? We just got the dress!" You say. Jisu lets out a slow chuckle. "The dress is just step one, darling! We have to get your nails done, hair done, proper shoes." Jisu says, going onto a tangent of all the things you need to finish in order to look your best at the dance.
"I think my wallet just had a heart attack, you're funny if you think I can afford any of that. I'm living the broke bitch life." You say. Jisu shrugs with a smile. "I'll cover you." "Are you like...rich or something?" You ask, jokingly. "I mean, yeah. Kinda." she responds.
Oh—
You continue walking down the stairs, trailing behind Jisu.
the next day
"Are you ready to go?" Your mom calls from upstairs. "As much as I can be!" You respond.
Yesterday, you got your nails done,
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You picked out new shoes,
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And you practiced walking in heels for about an hour. All with Jisu's help, of course.
Does Jisu really like me? She kissed my boyfriend. But then again.. she apologized.
You'll admit, the apology did seem pretty genuine.
Is she buying me all this stuff to make it seem like she likes me, or does she really want to be my friend? Is she pitying me or is this just an act of forgiveness?
All negative thoughts aside, you were ready to talk everything out with Namjoon, Jungkook and Jisu at the dance.
"Where's Namjoon? He's your date, isn't he?" Your mom asks, looking out of the window on the door. "We're meeting each other at the dance." You say, biting your lip nervously. "There's no limo or fancy chauffeur to pick you guys up?" "No, my school is cheap as heck." You respond, minding your language around your mom. "Ah, you look so cute!" She says, grabbing your cheek. "Mom, stop!" You swat her hand away in a playful manner. "Fine..." your mom says, taking out her phone, "At least let me take pictures of my little girl before her big dance!" "Mom!" you groan. "Say cheese and give me a big smile!" "Cheese." You force a smile, barely showing your teeth. "That's definitely going on Facebook. Your relatives need to see you all grown up! C'mon, let's go!" You hold back the urge to argue since you know there's really no point. Everything, including your whole life and its achievements are on your mom's facebook page. From your play about dental hygiene in 2nd grade to your first dance recital.
