Dear God.

Please, if you can hear me.

Pretty, pretty please...

Let the Earth swallow me.

Right about now.

Let me disappear and be reborn in another life as something less troublesome than a human being, for example a lamp.

Yes, I would very much like to be a lamp in my next life, thank you very much, dear sir.

Help, my mind can't stop running in circles.

I am such an idiot.

"This is a misunderstanding," I said, slowly coming to terms with the fact that I may need to undergo plastic surgery, completely change my appearance and relocate to another country instead of living with this shame.

Jimin was unimpressed.

"I'm sorry. Were those texts not directed at me?" he asked casually.

"I never meant to send them!" I whispered despairingly.

"Oh, so you butt-texted me that my dick sucks?" He looked disappointed. "To be honest, I never expected those words to come out of your butt. I thought me and your butt were on good terms. You know, considering what we did last time..."

For the first time ever, his sexual innuendos did not stir a rush inside of me. Instead, I was mortified to the point where I wanted to hang myself.

"Please!" I stopped him, raising a hand next to my crimson face. "Me and Quinn got drunk. Things got a little out of control. I may have felt a little bit... frustrated, and let it out with these texts."

"Frustrated?" he cocked a brow, resting a shoulder on the wall.

"Yes, but I never planned to send them." I bit on the inside of my cheek.

"I believe you." he suddenly said, throwing me off guard.

My mouth popped open. "You do?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "You know, these things happen. I mean, not to me of course, because I'm a man with dignity and class," he said snobbishly, looking down at his nails and suddenly I felt as if I was gum under his shoe. "But sure, I can understand that you used your phone as an outlet. But why were you frustrated?"

This provoked a twinge of irritability within me.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked, feeling small. "You weren't returning any of my calls."

Fuckfuckfuck. I am so pathetic. I sound so desperate. Dear God, kill me now.

"I was busy." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure of it," I mumbled, my insecurity tearing through me. Busy with what? Another girl?

Park Jimin can never be a faithful man... he's just not cut out for it.

The words blared in my ears like fire drill. It wasn't like me to get jealous. I never got jealous. So why did the thought of Jimin paying even an ounce of his attention to another woman make me feel like my chest was on fire?

"Anyway." He simply said, not finishing his sentence as he shifted his gaze to the side.

The nonchalant way in which he said it, the relaxed manner in which he shifted the focus away from himself. He was a sly as a fox. I wasn't obsessing over him in any way, nor did I desperately want to know what he'd been doing these past few days instead of reaching out to me. But I reckoned he could at least say something. Like, think of an excuse, any sort of excuse. It didn't even need to be true. I just needed him to try and give me one, even if it was made up.

I bit my lips, trying to hold my words back. I wasn't going to be the crazy chick pestering him for any sort of explanation. It just wasn't my gig. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to me.

"Anyway," I grumbled, mimicking his words. "I need to take a shower. Quinn and I are going out tonight. You can stay or not stay, it's your choice."

I readjusted my robe, heading for the bathroom as I passed him by cooly.

"Stop," he said so quietly but his voice still managed to freeze the blood in my veins. "I know what you're doing."

"What, trying to take a shower?"

I peered at him out of the corner of my eyes. His head tilted to the side, he was observing me under lustrous bangs, his eyes piercing through my soul. He was probably trying to sort out why I was being so defensive.

"You're mad at me."

"What a spectacular observation," I huffed.

His eyes narrowed to thin slits as if he was trying to read me. What was he thinking? That I had absolutely no right to be mad at him? He wasn't wrong about that, and I knew it. He owed me nothing. I can't promise you anything, he had said. And I thought of myself as a smart girl, so I believed him. I just couldn't keep my spite inside of me no matter how hard I tried to.

All of a sudden, he took a step closer, his face inches away from mine. I heaved a long exhale, trying to steady my heart.

"No one is going to hurt you," he said softly.

"Wh-what?" I croaked.

"I know you don't believe it right now," Jimin whispered. "I don't know if you ever will. But I promise you, no one is ever going to hurt you again."

The words cut straight through my heart like daggers. They were supposed to sound gentle, but instead they were causing me pain.

"Again?" I echoed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

His chocolate eyes glistened, something unfamiliar oscillating in them. What was he looking at me with? Affection? Pity?

Feebly, I tried to push him off of me. Memories ran through my mind like a fast-forward montage. All of a sudden that fragile, broken-hearted sixteen-year old girl resurfaced from deep within.

I could see her so clearly, her lashes brimmed with tears and her lips bruised.

The girl that was ridiculed, pushed around, abused.

The girl that just wanted to be accepted, loved, protected.

"What do you know?" my voice trembled as my eyes searched his accusingly.

His lips thinned into a line, his brows dipping slightly in an infuriatingly sympathetic expression. He remained silent.

"Jimin, what do you know?" I asked again, this time a bit more demandingly.

More silence. I was becoming more and more agitated by the second. It hit me. The look in his eyes, it was pity. I had seen it so many times by now – in the eyes of the school psychologist, the doctor, even in some of my peers. But it had never bothered me as much as it did now, never.

I was wrestling with myself. I was being torn apart by the need to throw myself in Jimin's arms and the need to run away and hide from the whole world forever. But I wasn't going to be pitied. I wasn't going to allow to feel sorry for myself. Not again.

"Nothing. I know nothing," he said.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

Jimin was clueless. "What wasn't?"

"This," I gestured between us. "It's too complicated and you know... it isn't supposed to be."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on," I rolled my eyes. "Don't act as if this is working out for you. Jimin, you were never gonna stick around that long anyway. The only reason you're here now is because these ridiculous texts I sent to you hurt your ego. Otherwise you would have ghosted me for who knows how long. You live for women praising you. You get off on it, it feeds your pride. But you get tired of it real quick and this thing right here, you and I know both has run its course."

His lips popped slightly open and his brows rose a little bit. His eyes became even larger, glistening orbs peering at me.

"It sounds like you don't know me at all."

He said quietly. His shoulders became a little bit tense.

"Does anyone?" I asked mockingly, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "You and I both know I'm right, Jimin. So let's just save each other the time and the heartbreak."

It physically hurt, saying the words out loud. I braced myself, my jaw tightening as I fought the quiver of my chin.

Jimin fell silent, his gaze cast down as he stared at his shoes for a while. My heartbeat rose to a crescendo in my ears. I fought the urge to do something, apologize, or just run to him and embrace him. But I stood right where I was.

At last, he looked up and our gazes locked.

"You really think that way of me?" he whispered in a gravely voice.

"You really need an answer to that?" I replied with a question.

His tongue pushed at the inside of his cheek. He took a deep breath in and cocked his head to the side, his neck cracking. A subtle sneer flashed across his full lips as he shoved his hands in his pockets and took two steps towards me. He was standing so close I could smell his perfume, his nose inches away from mine. Then he leaned closer, bringing his mouth close to my ear but not too close so that I couldn't see his face.

"They really were right about you," his voice pierced through me. "You really are selfish. I was just too blind to see it."

His words struck a nerve and crushed the last resilience I had left. Before I could react, Jimin drew back and gave me a once over in what seemed to be the most disdainful look I had seen on his face.

"You know what? You were dead wrong about my mother. She did love me. But your father sure as hell didn't love you. Otherwise you would stop humiliating yourself by going after so many shitty men in your life." Jimin gritted.

The air around us hung with words and feelings left unsaid. Still facing me, Jimin took a couple steps back and placed his hand on the door knob. I wanted to say something, anything – I just didn't know what.

I felt like such a little shit. He and I both had so much figuring out to do, and admittedly, we were both hurt and damaged in our own ways. But right now, something was ferociously triggering my hurt to resurface. What he said to me was nasty – and although deep down I was sure it came from a place of hurt, I wasn't going to acknowledge it.

Not now, when I was inches away from throwing myself at him and desperately apologize for being so horrible.

Because I was. I was horrible.

"Goodbye." Jimin said and for the first time he didn't address me by my full name. Hearing him say my name made me feel unique to him. Right now, this was his way for telling me I wasn't special anymore. He was detached, so far away from me now. I watched blindly as he left my apartment. This was never more than just about sex, so why does it hurt so much?

I had told him to save ourselves the heartbreak.

But it was too late. My heart was already breaking.

Before I knew it, warm tears were streaming down my face. I brushed them off hastily, reaching for my phone, my fingers frantically tapping on the screen. I knew I shouldn't. But being destructive towards myself all of a sudden felt pleasantly familiar. It was comfortable, like slipping in your old pajamas.

"Hey, Hyungsik. You free?"