STRUGGLES OF BEING A WRITER || CBG × KTH

one

The heels of his perfectly shined shoes clicked with each step he took. He fixed his round shaped glasses that were hanging on his nose bridge, running his long and slender fingers through his dark locks, exposing his pretty forehead.

He was standing in the middle of an empty hallway, holding a piece of paper. He stared at it with confusion, scratching the back of his head, asking himself where the heck he was.

Who could blame him? It's almost impossible not to get lost inside such a huge campus that you're completely unfamiliar with.

"In this rate, I'm going to end up late." He winced at the idea of him possibly getting detention on his first day in school. And it was all because his anti-social self didn't have the courage to ask anyone for directions. He couldn't even make out the words written in his schedule paper because the font size was too small for his blurry eyes to see.

"What am I going to do now? This schedule is practically useless." He was going to crush the paper into a little ball, but his gut stopped him from doing so, thinking that  it may be of use later on.

He squinted his eyes as he tried to read the words labelled on each door he passed through, the feeling of the rough wooden still remained intact on his fingers.

He ended up sighing in defeat, ready to face any teacher that comes his way and yell at him for being late. His fingers then massaged his aching temples as a result of squinting his eyes too much.

"What are you doing here?" A voice echoed throughout the empty two-walled hallway he was walking at. As he turned around to the direction where the voice came from, he sees someone with noticeable pink hair. He watched as the stranger made his way towards him, step by step. His social anxiety made him want to run away quickly, but something was holding him in place.

And that was the brown orbs that stared back at him with so much authority. He didn't know what to feel, was he saved or in trouble?

The pink haired stranger raised a brow as he looked at him. The shy boy hung his head down low, feeling embarrassed.

"I-I'm s-sorry. I-I don't know which way, I-I should go.." He uttered in a low and deep voice that captivated the stranger "C-can you.. help me?"

"With what? You already have your schedule in hand." The person points towards the piece of paper in his hand. He lets out an awkward laugh before saying-

"I-I can't see...the words." Out of embarrassment, he fixed his glasses before looking at the boy with pink hair again.

His heart was beginning to race uncontrollably. Could it be because of nervousness or because of the person standing in front of him? Or was it both?

He started fumbling with his fingers; a habit he tends to do whenever he would feel nervous, especially when people talked to him.

"Quick, hand me that." The stranger snatched away the paper in his hand, scanning it thoroughly while the latter just watched him, still fiddling with his fingers "Wow, you really must have bad eyesight for you not to see this."

All he could do was let out another awkward chuckle as he tried to avoid the gaze of the person standing in front of him. Being a person with horrible eyesight had many disadvantages. But with every disadvantage comes an advantage, right? Well, for the shy little boy, he fortunately developed a connection with the pink haired boy thanks to his horrible eyesight.

"You're lucky, you're in the same class as I am." The pink haired boy waved the piece of paper in a left and right motion.

"W-will you take me there?" He questioned

"Under one condition."

"W-what is it?"

"Join the Journalism Club, I'm running low on members. Let's go." It happened so fast, the other couldn't even process what he had said. He was just standing there, his mind either occupied or empty, because he temporarily lost the ability to utter a single word.

The pink haired fellow moved his face closer to the shy boy, waving his hand in front of him, trying to snap him away from his train of thoughts.

"A-ah, I'm sorry. I got a little distracted."He ends up bowing to the pink haired boy as an apology "J-joining the Journalism Club means that.. I-I have to write, right?"

"That depends on what you are tasked to do." He shrugged "By the way, my name is Kang Taehyun. What's yours?"

"C-choi Beomgyu." He glanced at Taehyun's hand that was extended towards him, asking for a handshake. He hesitated, but eventually accepted it.

And at the moment their hands touched, it felt like two red strings were tied into one. The light coming out of the huge door behind them added a little sparkle to their intertwined hands. Beomgyu watched as a smile grew in Taehyun's pretty face. For a little while, it felt like everything was in slow motion. It felt like it was just the two of them in this lonely and cruel world.

Beomgyu stared at Taehyun's impeccable features. His fair and rosy skin, lips that complimented his pink hair as well as his angled nose. And his eyes, they were breathtaking. Those huge eyes that held so much wonder and emotion. Those eyes that smiled whenever his lips would do the same.

He felt like he had met someone he was supposed to meet. Cliché, isn't it?

Don't worry, it's nothing new. For love is a dish best served cliché.

•struggles of being a writer•