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It's been a week.







She's still not here.







Still I have to deal with this pain alone.






I feel like dying.







Just like before.







My body was arching from all the cuts and torture.






My eyes were puffy.








Tears were nowhere. Because my eyes were tired by now.







I was lying on the floor not having the energy to climb on the bed.






Suddenly someone came in.







"Get up, it's time for your performance"







"I don't want to do it today"






"Stop saying bullshits! Trying to close our only source of money?! Don't make me to do all that thing again!" The manager said.






He pulled my hair and made me to look at him.








But I was tired.







I don't want to do all these anymore.








He glared at me and signaled me to change my clothes as some blood was stained in some places.







"Jimin, you know I want the best for you right?" The manager said with soft eyes earning a nod from me.










Huh for my good? More like for his fucking profit.

The Dancer || PJM ✓Where stories live. Discover now