Pluto Rooms | Jikook

Am I a Pretty Girl?

The person in the mirror staring back at Jimin makes him instantly queasy. Whoever that person wearing the silken black booty shorts with sexy suspenders is, it isn't him. Even though the person has the same purple hair, same thoughtful eyes, flat nose, and unmistakable birth mark on his left shoulder--the person cannot be Park Jimin. 

He twirls, once, twice--watching how the material hugs his backside in all the right places. He runs his fingers along the silk suspenders, which feel cool against his boiling body. What. The. Fuck.

It's not that Jimin doesn't like the outfit--because he does--but it's far far too racy and intimate to show off in public, especially in a photoshoot with countless others watching him. Especially when the other person in the shoot is going to be Gyuri. I bet she's going to get a kick out of making me uncomfortable...I fucking hate her.

As Jimin sizes his clone up in the mirror, an idea pops into his head. Despite the circumstances, it makes his heart rate ease up, and he instantly picks up his phone. With shaky fingers, he dials the number, holding the device up to his ear after pressing call. Should I be doing this? No...but maybe I should? Well fuck it. It's too late to go back now.

Jimin's thumb traces the material of the men's lingerie set, staring at his milky thighs in the mirror as he waits for the phone to be picked up. In all honesty, he wouldn't mind wearing this outfit for a certain someone else...and the thought makes his face heat up. His forehead tingles with the fresh onslaught of sweat as a confused voice spills through the phone.

"Jimin?" 

Oh...God...maybe I shouldn't be doing this. "I n-need your help and I don't have much time to explain." He whispers, hoping nobody from the photoshoot is out walking in the hallways. If they hear him whispering--will they barge in?

The voice on the other end grows quiet, but Jimin swears he hears an intake of breath. "I'm listening."

"Okay..." In a very condensed rush of words, Jimin explains Gyuri's blackmailing, the threats, and his current situation in the bathroom at a racy photoshoot. He whispers to the phone under his crop-top, muffling any eavesdroppers from understanding him from outside the echoing bathroom. A few confused grunts and oh my gods spill out quietly as Jimin chugs through the story, willing himself to maintain composure throughout. 

Jimin has never told anyone about this and letting it out makes it that much more real. As he nears the end of his tale, he can spot pinpricks of tears in the corners of his eyes as he gazes in the mirror. He shakes his head, turning around to face the clean-cut, white cabinets. Facing himself in the mirror is too hard. Too painful.

When he's finished with the tale, the other line is so silent that Jimin wonders if he hung up on accident. "H-hello? Are you there?"

No response for a while. The only sign that the other line is alive is a soft tapping of what sounds like a pen on a desk. Jimin bites his tongue, chest shining with sweat. He's fanning himself aggressively when the voice finally speaks.

"Okay...okay...shit...okay. You're there right now?"

"Yes." Jimin croaks out.

"Then listen up." The voice comes out harshly--angrily, as if the story of Jimin's troubled past has unleashed the trap door of revenge beasts in his mind. "Here's what you're going to do..."

.

The camera clicks.

The light flashes.

The photographer claps, ordering the models to move to the next pose. 

To show a little more skin! To get closer! To lift your chin up, honey! That's it! Right there...