CHAPTER TWENTY TWO | Very very inconvenienced| KIM SEOKJIN

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"Did you hear what I sa--" And when I stared at his flawless skin and pink cheeks I knew I would be rendered speechless. A romantic feeling fluttered inside my chest.

Seokjin added as he folded his arms across his chest, "I felt your pain and understood your dilemma too well. It must be a pathetic thing for a teenager who's having a hard time getting her love accepted. For love does not discriminate against people based on class, religion, or sexual orientation. How can people be so stupid?"

Beauty with brains, was it?

"That means you are gonna help me?" My eyebrows drew together as I expected to get his affirmation. In the meantime, Eric who was sideglancing the man began whistling cowardly as he realized my eyes were on him. Seokjin's nature gave prominence to a high maturity level that also portrayed him as a flag bearer of humanitarianism. A man of such sound mind and health would sustain harmony between Somi and her haughty mother; he withheld a persona of a complete family man.

Seokjin hovered slightly and nodded. A bolt of joy launched through my body. He was inhumanly handsome and his voice was like a soulful playlist of jams being played inside a car on a rainy night. His relaxed tongue claimed to provide that bunch of quick-fix solutions to my every problem. He appeared to be more consummate from the rest of the boys I had dealt with, and I couldn't stop myself from boasting the fact.

"Seokjin Oppa! We have to practice here. It was occupied by the slot of senior students since morning." The same girl now whined, trying to make herself look younger in front of him, simultaneously chipping away at the chances of getting lashed out for hurling tantrums at me.

"Okay. Okay," he said calmly and glanced at the poker-faced figure next to me, poking a finger in Eric's chest. "Is this finger chip with you?" Seokjin was in full swing and I feared he might upset my cousin.

"Finger chip? Me?" Eric scoffed, the love in his irises for the man superseded with fury.

"Oh, yeah, this finger chip is my cousin." I exasperated, faking a muffled giggle and utterly ignoring to meet Eric's eyes. And then I thought about giving much-needed rise to his status. "He too lives in California but has come here to enjoy his summer vacation." I clutched his arm which was like a slender iron beam. And I meant the hotness here.

"Give me a break, you are telling me this ice cream stick has come from abroad?"

"Who did you call an ice-cream stick, huh? These days people use filters to get lean chest and this angular jawline like me." Eric took a step ahead and now there were ready to take on each other. If there was anything called CPR, it was this. Eric's heels were in the air because he was two inches shorter than Seokjin.

"Okay, but I've seen people of your built and age usually around Jeju island maintaining the cleanliness of the beach." His shoulders thrust with a peal of laughter, and he pushed Eric lightly.

I joked, dissecting the space by coming in the middle. "Oh, c'mon stop picking up a fight with a man twice your weight." I saw how Eric's jaw ticked.

Seokjin flicked his bangs and beckoned us to walk abreast of him. "You people must be smooth like butter in English speaking."

"Well, your 'worldwide handsome' and 'you know' too sounded very posh." Luckily, I discovered something elusive, that by dishonoring himself he wanted others to bolster his superiority in sweet and encouraging words. So, I started buttering him up to bring my main agenda closer to fruition, "And I'm not joking. Your accent is not any less than an American college boy's, isn't it Eric?"

"American toddler's," he spat as he lingered on the affront hurled by Seokjin.

We trailed him through the same corridor, a wave of expressive faces and confident legs forged ahead in our direction. Seokjin gently took my hand in his firm hand and I tried the same with Eric to avoid getting lost. "Why your wrist is so soft?" Unwisely, my hand had groped his plushy dick, which wasn't enshrined by underwear. Fuck, there was meat. Seokjin had got it all wrong.

Eric didn't give air to this banana peel, and I mentally acknowledged his
composed self as I secured his wrist this time.

Seokjin stopped and pushed the door open of the green room. It was empty and despite the sunlight pouring through the ventilators, the bulbs around the mirrors were lit in an elongated-square framework. He rested his butt on the makeup table, taking a smooth turn to capture the traces of uneasiness on our faces. "Just by saying hello, thank you, sorry, one doesn't sit on the throne with the crown of mastery in the English language."

And then I realized he enjoyed making fun of himself as much he did of others. I laughed freely. We gave each other high-fives and Eric's face turned beetroot.

"I'm leaving Hanuel. Tell him to drop you home." Eric who had only come past the door showed no interest in getting locked up in that colorful gulag with loudmouth Seokjin I supposed. Before he glued his fingers on the doorknob, Seokjin cut him off at the post.

"Aish, people who have been associated with me so far, know I don't allow anyone to leave with a sad face. So, I have got a joke for you." Seokjin's eyes were already soaked in the after-effects of the post-joke stage. "It's in English. You will love it."

"Is it mandatory?" Eric threw his head sideways.

"No, it's a joke." Seokjin's windshield-wiper laughter caused every hair on my body to rise.

"That's it," Eric asked carefully. "Should I laugh? Ha . . . ha . . ."

Deep breath. "Oh, boy, come and sit here. I bet he's about to get us rolling on the floor." I swooped my hand down and he surprisingly obliged, yawning loudly.

"A wife told her husband about the unfortunate death of an old woman who was their neighbor. And when he asked about the cause of her death. She cited high pulse rate and threw anger on the inflation hitting the marketplace." He fell silent abnormally.

The three of us exchanged glances curiously. He covered his mouth and waited for our reactions to come out.

"What next?" I asked, searching his face. Eric was staring at me in disgusted disbelief, so I forced a toothy smile. "Wow, the joke is over?"

"This is it." Eric precipitated from there with confirmed surety. The door slammed against the wall and we jumped on our places. Still, I continued to peek at the little space beneath the door to see his tennis shoes would come back.

"I want to know is he an autistic person?" he asked lowly, descending his head to get me startled, a little broken down.

"No, he knows how to take jokes in his stride. Our conversations are like 90% jokes and 10% serious content. But . . . this joke must have paralyzed him." I looked away, biting my nails.

"I'm cool. Everyone sitting in the room doesn't need to have a common IQ." He went on to sit on a chair that looked like a director's chair, peace blessing his every move.

"Ah, he's more intelligent, brings good grades in every subject without any tutor's assistance. And is even chosen in a chess tournament for the second time. Algorithm thing is just like peanuts for him." It was as true as my love for Taehyung, Eric was a blue-eyed boy in his school, blessed with a cohort of intelligent boys and girls heading toward the path of success.

"Still, I don't think he's better than you?"

"What? I have failed in my ninth grade twice and he had passed it in one time. What more do you need to hear?" My mouth parted and froze for a moment.

"But, you never mentioned that you failed your class in your speech." He folded in legs in a Little Mermaid style, judging the big stain on the fabric of my educational background.

"Ah, why are you suddenly talking about me? You promised to solve my problem." I pulled him out of his probing zone. I could have chosen to grill him with some harsh words with my irrevocable style of tackling situations. But, I employed a different tactic here from the mindset of a secondary character.

"Hmm . . . do you have a picture of her daughter?"

"A picture? Hello, she's my lovely, cute, furball munchkin; if my gallery wouldn't be rife of Somi's funny videos, then whose it will be?" I whipped out my phone, hands shaking as I unlocked it.

Seokjin took it from my hands and he couldn't stop uttering a string of sugary compliments for the little one. And then, those words stopped coming out of his mouth.

Seokjin was present there physically but his mind was fuelled with other reveries. I feared he might have seen my very private and very hazy selfies with Taehyung. But that wouldn't happen, as I had saved them in a hidden icon setting. Woof.

"Hey, back to earth Seokjin." I dragged my chair next to him. "Let me see what thing in my phone has blown you away."

It was my selfie with Molan when she took me to one of her office dinner parties. We both looked like two Japanese wooden dolls. "And yes. She's Molan. The main female lead."

"Are you telling me, on this beautiful face, she's not getting any marriage offers?" Dazed, he didn't blink his eyes.

"No, it's not. Many wealthy industrialists are stalking her with a diamond ring in one hand, and a bouquet in another. But she has her condition," I said sourly, slapping my thighs.

"Whoever on earth denied from fulfilling her condition must be a fool."

"Wait till you hear it. After which I think you will abandon the thought completely." I gave a tight-lipped smile, predicting what would be his reaction to the forthcoming tale.

At the same time, a middle-aged man who writhed in stench came to take him. "We have a dry run in about fifteen minutes. Jin, I shall find you with the rest of the actors around the stage. Got it?"

"Are my Allahdin pants altered? Hyuna has taken over a week to deliver it." Despite the subject matter was so worrisome, Seokjin wasn't tensed at all.

"I'll ask her," the man prompted, shifting his specs as he darted at me.

"So, I think I should better leave. We can plan this out later? How about tomorrow?" I didn't know he would be taking part in a play himself. Wasn't he supposed to be a person who would come and watch it instead of the chief guest, rather than mingling with incongruous juniors on the stage?

Before that man could manhandle him to speed things up, Jin asserted, looking positive, "Ah, Hanuel invite your sister to the evening's play. I want to win her over with my Aladdin's charm." He winked.

***

Later on that day, we had a lot of conversations about the lamest topics but I had enjoyed each second of it. I even got Uncle Mojo on a video call and they both admired each other's wits very much. He understood the lines I told him to prepare apart from his plays. He was all good with the idea of hoodwinking a poor junior artist in C grade films, governing the fact that he wanted to become an actor, he agreed upon showing his acting skills.

Now, Seokjin had gone to get his makeup done and I excused him to make a call to Molan. Luckily, I managed to find a place where there was silence and after telling her the whole story and cutting out Seokjin's character, she adhered.

I clapped and went back inside.

The time went by faster than expected, the similar man with disheveled hair and a cup of joy in his hand ordered the actors to get backstage. "Everyone vacate the rooms and take your positions on the stage!"

With Seokjin's permission, I followed him to the stage. The thick and rich maroon curtain with golden tassels acted like a buffer from the audience that started to populate the hall. Our gazes searched for her at distance, through a corner. Seokjin's head was on top of mine. He was excited to see Molan, the nervousness that swept over his face was a completely different case.

"Where is she? Where is she? She wore a Prada Mountbatten tuxedo with red Jimmy Choo heels." My knees started to ejaculate pain and I stood up.

"Why? Didn't she send you a text?"

"Yeah. Let me see it." As I checked my phone there was a message in bold letters: WHERE ARE U? I'M SEATING IN THE SECOND ROW. I chuckled and pulled the curtain slightly to give me a view of her. She made good time in the theater. "The second row, that's Molan."

He did double-take and clarified, "Is that she? She looks so beautiful. I mean she's so dreamlike."

"Worldwide handsome you, and worldwide beautiful her, what a couple you two make." I glanced at him and fixed his slightly tilted kufi.

"Yeah."

"Anyways, I gotta go, or else she might ruin our day's hard work." I hopped out of the stage, wishing him all the best.

I waddled through a narrow space between the serried rows of seats, and the rest of the girls and women's made faces as I accidentally stepped on their seemingly expensive shoes one by one.

Molan's face lit up and I crashed myself on the stiff red seat. "Hey, what's with watching a play? I thought you once considered them boring and outdated."

I breathed. "Yeah, well if the actors are good-looking then why not?"

The girl sitting next to me smiled and smiled back.

Silence ensued when the curtain rose and the children were asked to keep quiet by the elders. I dabbed the sweat on my face as Seokjin appeared on the stage with a confident gusto of Aladdin. The brightest of wide-angled lights and footlights focussing on him. Before I could gauge Molan's reaction, the girl next to me facepalmed, wowed, and threw a couple of passionate kisses at him.

I coughed and tilted my head toward Molan. "Cute isn't it?"

She hummed; her fingers of both hands meshed together. A second later, she added on, "His shoulders are so wide, looks like a model."

A sigh of relief did nothing to calm down my rapid heartbeats. "Poor guy has got the damn edging looks that the film industry needs right now. But look . . . still a theater artist."

The bubbly girl interrupted us, "Theater is his first love."

Oh, did I even ask you? My lips were upturned. Molan jutted herself forward to show her gratitude for being instrumental to us (or her).

Getting back to where we had left, I drifted her to make-believe, "How much do you think he would be paid? A fist of coins in small pouches like it used to happen in the medieval period. So sad."

"No, he doesn't perform for money."

I failed to fathom the girl's problem. For one, I was talking to Molan and not her.

Molan stared at him and I thought maybe the magic was happening slowly. She tugged at the M letter locket placed centrally in her pearl necklace that sat on her collar bone.

I stayed quiet and chanted the emotional words after every two minutes deliberately, to stoke her with sympathy, "Poor guy . . . no more dreams . . . God help him . . . intense day-job rehearsals."

By the time I would have pushed the envelope, the girl corrected me, "Are you watching his performance for the first time?"

I erred and Molan answered with interest, "Yes. It's our first time in here."

The girl nodded in recognition. "This theater isn't usually full but when they get to know, especially girls, that he is about to perform they flock in here."

"Oh, really," I said dryly.

Molan elbowed me, which meant that I had to make my presence nonexistent and permit a smooth spate of information the girl was spewing. She further added, "He's such a dedicated future superstar. I know it is hard to believe but he's the great-grandson of one of the oldest veteran thespian who ventured to start a method acting school of his own, and now these young men, after so much fame are reaping the benefits of luxurious life."

Suddenly my blood boiled so much so that I wanted to deliver a punch on her maxi pad type of face.

Unfortunately, having heard everything about that handsome guy, she lost interest in the play and began checking her watch. And after five minutes, she said something that I never wanted to hear. "Hmm . . . Hanuel, Somi must be alone at the mansion. Shall we just leave?"

"But there is Eric and more importantly Uncle Mojo to take care of her."

"Still, for how long will they run behind a troublemaker? C'mon, we have our driver waiting outside."
She was ready to crank herself into top gear.

I saw fear dawning on Jin's face as he had kept his eyes skimmed over us. He exclaimed loudly into his microphone, "Miss Molan please wait for me!"

I stopped in the middle passage and Molan too looked at him, startled. "Is he calling my name?"

Jin broke the fourth wall and breathed, "Miss Molan, I can't live without you."

The considerable audience turned their attention at us, well Molan garnered more attention as Jin neared her. "What? How do you know my name?"

"Well, your locket has an M. And Molan is the rarest name for the rarest person living on earth." His voice had a tenor of blissful depth.

If I were in her place, I would have given Seokjin the tightest hug for dedicating such romantic lines.

"Excuse me?" She then grabbed my hand and dragged me out of there.
Now, the gap between him and us seemed to have grown.

"Molan! Please stop! Molan! I'll harm myself if you didn't turn and look at me."

A/n

This was horrible, I tell you, the next chapter will tell you everything. Okay bye-bye.

Thanks for voting and commenting on this baby of mine.