3- Spawns Of Satan

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Nog 'n hotelkamer, CNN
Nog 'n hangover, kop wat sukkel om wakker te word
Nog 'n security check ~Francois van Coke

(Another hotel room, CNN
Another hangover, head that's struggling to wake up
Another security check)

I wake up the next morning feeling worse than I had anticipated. Not only do I have the biggest headache that any human had ever experienced, I also feel bad. I have the feeling that I really upset Min Yoongi.

Contrary to popular beliefs, I actually care a shit ton about people. Too much, in fact. I guess that's why I put up the bitch front. It's way easier to scare someone off and spare them one huge sob story.

The challenge of getting out of bed is staring me straight in my face. The intense contemplation is giving me an impossibly bigger headache. With the pack of Advil in the kitchen and my bladder almost bursting serving as my biggest motivation, I decide to finally lug myself out of bed.

After I peed and took almost all the painkillers, I call my manager to try and wiggle out of some appointments for the day. After about 15 minutes of her lecturing me about responsibility, she is finally able to get my morning schedule open. I don't think that I ever loved that woman more than I do right now.

I'm not really in the mood for hotel food, so I decide to go to a small restaurant just down the street. Fresh air could only do me good, anyway.

The walk to the restaurant was short and refreshing. The slight breeze brushing past my face was the best feeling I felt in a long while.

The moment I step through the door of the small restaurant, the homey atmosphere takes over my entire being. I haven't realized how cold the wind outside actually is. I cross my fingers that I don't catch a cold, because my manager will actually murder me in my sleep if that happened.

The friendly waiter offers me a warm smile. I try my best to return the gesture. I've gotten pretty good at pretend smiles these past few years.

I take my place and order my absolute favorite drink - hot chocolate with exactly 3 marshmallows - basic, I know, but I love it. The waiter sends me a wink and walks away to prepare my order. He's actually really cute, but I'd never fuel his ego by telling him.

My attention gets drawn to a guy obnoxiously laughing two tables over to mine. My dulled headache spikes up again.

I glare over at the table, grabbing on to a napkin to keep me from getting up and stabbing the guy. I hault my movement when I spot some familiar faces. At the table, sits the infamous seven men I tried to ignore since last night.

God, do you secretly hate me? Do you like to see me suffer? Why do you always put me in the same room as the actual spawns of Satan? Well, one spawn, and six only slightly disliked guys, but still.

My glare is cut off my the cute waiter setting my drink down infront of me. His hand slightly brushes against mine as I take my beloved drink from him.

"Thanks," I said with a somewhat bored tone. I find him vaguely familiar. I can't help but feel that I met him before.

"No problem, cutie," he winked again and went his way. I'd be sure to ask him if he has something in his eye later.

The atmosphere slightly shifts when I feel a pair of eyes on me. I cautiously scan my surroundings, trying not to look in the direction of a certain group.

My eyes subconsciously land on said table, and I mentally scold myself for not listening to my instincts.

I find the source of the stare. My eyes meet Min yoongi's, and he averts his gaze immediately. He looked pissed. He is probably still mad about last night. I felt bad about getting us kicked out and yelling, but I'm not going to beat myself up about it. I had a concert tomorrow night to focus on.

I wrap my hands around the mug to warm them up and stare out the window, trying to focus on my choreography and lyrics. I don't feel eyes on me for the rest of my time at the restaurant - except for one or two fans asking for pictures.

When I finnish my hot chocolate I call the waiter over for the bill. I couldn't make myself sit here for much longer. I just needed to relax and not stress over a stupid rivalry.

I make my way back to the hotel. I spot a park on the way, and I decide to take a walk since I don't have anything scheduled untill 12.

The sun hits my pale skin perfectly as I walk along the trail in the park. The breeze from earlier has picked up slightly, but not enough to bother anybody. I take a deep breath, trying to ease my mind a little.

For the second time today, I feel the odd sence of being watched. I looked around the park, trying to see who was around. All I see is a few people walking around, minding their own business.

Okay, now I'm just being paranoid.

I shake the feeling off and slowly find my way to the hotel. The further I walk, the less I feel the eyes on me.

I step through the hotel doors into the lobby. I'm greeted by a short woman with a lavender pixie cut, awaiting my arrival with crossed arms.

"Hey, Miyeon," I cautiously approach my fuming manager. I fear no one, except this woman when she's angry.

"Cut the bullshit and get your ass in the practice room before I drag you in there myself," she sternly told me with a gym bag in hand, I assume it contains my training clothes.

I nod at the mad woman infront of me and take the bag from her.

"-and here's some breakfast, knowing you, you haven't eaten yet, "she hands me a small lunch box with a sympathetic smile.

She might be scary as hell at times, but I still love her. We've been to hell and back together. She's the only person that stood with me after my career died, and helped me Frankenstein the shit out if it.

I thanked her and rushed to the car that is to take me to the studio we rented out for practice. I knew better than to slack off, even in the slightest, infront of her. Because behind that cute face and small frame, lies the mother of all destruction.

I close my eyes and rest my head against the window as the driver starts the car.

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