CINDERELLA'S CONTRACT | pjm √

twenty two

“ fight.”

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"My fiancé and I are engaged at the moment, but the wedding date is not planned. This is all we have to say." Jimin's eyes fluttered shut as he puts down the mic. At this point in time, I was still recovering from the shock. When, how and why? I had so many questions, and so little time.

The reporters immediately took down his statement in forms of notes, records and videotapes, flooding out of the room to report back to their agencies. By the time I had come to my senses, the room was empty. I turned to him.

"You didn't ask me for my hand in marriage before announcing it to the world." I blurted out, slightly frustrated. "Isn't it important to....propose to me..?"

"It was an emergency. The news was harming both of us, and I knew this needed damage control." Jimin explained softly. I wasn't taking it. Was rumours more important than my approval?

"You're always like that." somehow, the words I didn't want to say was beginning to spill over, and an overwhelming feeling tightens my chest. "You're always not telling me things. Disappearing for days on end.....handling everything yourself...why don't you tell me anything?"

"Yona, I'm not—

"What about the contract?" I ask, and Jimin seems to choke up. "Are you going to keep the contract on me too?"

"I can't nullify the contract. I can't...." He answers, sliding a hand across his face. "It's to keep you safe with me, and— nevermind."

"What is it? You don't want me to see Anna or my mom because you're afraid I'll leave? Is that it?" I pried on. My throat was starting to burn. Tears— I could feel them welling up in my eyes.

"No. That's not...." Jimin slowly caresses my hand, and I slap it away.

"Don't play the love card. If you truly love me....you'll let me see Mom." I retorted, before storming out of the room.

……………

Ugh.

After that little quarrel we had, Jimin headed back to his office to handle some business matters. I was beyond frustrated— it was as if our relationship was second to his work, and I am not having it.

It was my first time rebelling to the contract. By law, if I stepped out to visit Mom, it would mean that I broke the rules and would have to pay Jimin a hefty sum of money. But at this point— I really didn't care anymore. I was tired being a doll. A doll to him.

So I packed my luggage at midnight, sneaking past the guards and avoiding the cameras. As I got nearer to the entrance, it became harder to creep out altogether, as I haven't explored all of the mansion yet.

I caught the last train to home.

As I departed, my mind was whirling with the events of the past few months. It was a crazy ride— to say the least, and I wasn't sure if I'm going back, but I knew I needed a break. A break from the riches, the city life, Jimin. Jimin was a toxic addiction I couldn't behold, a gradual sickness that couldn't be cured. I had fallen in love with him, and I'll never be able to fall out of love for him.

I begin to rest my head against the window, slumping down to my seat. Slight regret fill my senses, and my ears recall the melody of the orchestra night. He said he'll love me, but will he really? Thoughts and doubts seep into my skin, concocting a mixture of feelings; a dash of sadness, excitement for home, and endless worry.