#hl.

they built us a house.

I don't think that that's the wisest thing to say

It’s the truth. What do you want me to do, lie?

SYNOPSIS: His biggest mistake was hitting the headlines. His constant cheating and sleeping around was coming through your door every morning, and it was holding you back. So you do what you have to, and put a bad headline in it’s place.

GENRE: ANGST.

REQUEST: A COULDN’T CARE LESS LIKE SCENARIO WITH RAPMON.

WORDS: 2386

Shoulders falling and lips frowning, you look to the headlines on the newspaper. You weren’t wrong, even if you had a tiny shred of hope that you had been reading all the signs wrong, that maybe your fiance was just going to work earlier and staying there later to get the album finished. You hoped his texts had become less affectionate because he was busy cheering up a sad band member or because he was so focused and proud of his lyrics. But he wasn’t.

You run your thumb over the front cover of the newspaper. The headline “BTS BREAKING HEARTS.” In bold black letters at the top and underneath, a photograph of Namjoon, your fiance, pinned up against another girl, his lips mere inches away from her. Your teeth clench together and in frustration you crumble the newspaper and throw it to the floor. 

Maybe you could have spotted it sooner. The two of you never went out anymore, no more walks in the park, or picnics  under trees where you would watch videos and talk about songs you both wanted to write, no more bad dancing in the living room and no more affection at all. Namjoon had said it was because of all the reporters that had swamped the apartment building, and sadly, until now you had believed him.

De-crumpling the paper, you notice your engagement ring, remembering all the kisses and ‘i love yous’, all the times you had fallen asleep in the passenger side of his car and he had carried you up to the room, the time in the restaurant when he proposed and got so excited he fell of his chair onto one knee and struggled to open the box because he was trying to open it the wrong way, and you smiled for a moment, before looking back to the newspaper. You wouldn’t bring it up. Not yet. Instead you put it in the drawer beside your bed and said nothing about the headlines.

Namjoon didn’t come home that night, or if he had, he didn’t sleep in your bed with you, because when you woke up it had been unmoved. Instead, while you were sleeping; Namjoon sat on the couch, he didn’t rest, or even mumble. He thought with a heavy heart about what he had just done, maybe that first night; he had kissed someone, but this time he knew; that if you ever found out, everything was over, but you weren’t there, and he wasn’t going to tell you.

You woke up early to find the couch had been sat in, as there was an indent left behind, which was common for cheap apartment couches. There was the newspaper that had came and obviously, you took your chances, hoping to see another boring headline but instead, were met with only proof that you wanted no more of Namjoon. If everyone else wanted him; they could have him, because you were finished with this.

“BTS STRIKES AGAIN”

The picture this time was of Namjoon being lead into a dark room by someone neither of you really knew. You didn’t read on, but instead folded the paper and placed it in the drawer in your bedroom.

After that, you started doing more for yourself and less from namjoon, you would lock the door when you went out and expected him to bring his own key; you would make dinners and meals only when you wanted and how you wanted them, you cleaned up your stuff but not his, because if he could abandon your trust, you could easily abandon him. You went to the gym more, you learnt to swim, you started writing your own lyrics to songs you had always wanted to play, you took piano lessons and started to paint, and you realised that he had never given you credit for any of the talents that he had held you back from.

You remember when you showed him a song you wrote and he shook his head and laughed, you remember him cutting a part your lyrics and putting them in his own song. You remember talking about piano lessons and he told you ‘you’re too late to start now’. You’re not too late, you were just holding yourself back because you thought Namjoon was right because you thought he was smart. But now, you realised; smart people wouldn’t make headlines in the ways Namjoon had.

“I’m starving.” He groaned as he stumbled through the door, lipstick on his collar and reeking of a perfume which wasn’t yours.

“You’re hungry.” You correct, switching the tv channel.

“And why is it so messy, we look like we’re living in a tip, Y/N!” He says, looking to the mess on the floor which was all of his own things. 

“Maybe you should clean up your own shit then, Namjoon.” You yawn, not paying any real attention to the confusion on his face.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, taking a few steps closer to you and sitting on the couch, tilting his head to look at your face. “You’re being really childish.”

Well, that was a sure fire way to cheer you up. But you weren’t ready to break the news yet. The news that you were going somewhere in life and you weren’t taking this cheating asshole with you. He didn’t have to pretend to be guilty, he didn’t have to pretend to even be loyal anymore. The sooner you ended this, the sooner both of you would be better off.

You waited four days. And in that time you received four more newspapers, all with Namjoon spread across the headlines, and by the fifth, you smiled when you saw them come through your door, you were relieved that you had taken off the ring he had given you and put it in your pocket when he wasn’t around. And you were revealed on the morning you were finally ending this already broken engagement.

Sipping your glass of water, you lean over the terrace, looking at the sea of cameras that had bounded around your apartment building. They were kept at a distance but they were still there and it made you laugh how none of them are pointing at you. Your eyes follow them, and catch what all the big hassle was about.

Namjoon, of course. He was pressing himself up against some girl, right beneath your balcony, he was laughing, smiling and even kissing her. It made you laugh as you take another sip of your water. So now it wasn’t even private affairs, it was right outside your home. You shake your head, for someone so smart he really was an idiot. That’s when your eyes lift to the water in your hand and you have a revelation. This was your time to shine. Your ticket out of this relationship. You didn’t care who he was with as long as it wasn’t you.

Leaving your glass on the table, you run into your bedroom and pack a back packs worth of clothes, your phone, earphones, shoes, anything you could possible fit before zipping it up and throwing it by the door. You put on a hoodie and a pair of jeans and run back to the terrace, making sure he was still there. 

You watch idly for a second as he moves away from the girl. Taking another sip of water, you swallow in nervousness for a second before realising, he’s deserving of everything he’s going to get. Leaning over the railing, slowly you tilt the glass of water before pouring it right over Namjoon. Soaking him. Hopefully, this would be a headliner for sure.

His attention snapped up to you, and you waved down at him, smiling. For a moment, you swear you see a look of shock on his face, a look of guilt ridden regret, that’s the reason you smiled. Watching him storm into the building, you lock the door to your apartment until he begins to knock furiously.

“Thought you looked a little thirsty down there.” You laugh.

“Let me in! I can explain. Stop being such a child!” He yells.

Picking up the bag, you put it on your back, and turn the key, letting him in. Crossing your arms over your chest defensively as you try to hide your smile, trying to hide how excited you were to move on. You weren’t hung up on a cheater like Namjoon, he wasn’t going to be someone you regretted because the only thing you were regretting was wasting away while headlines came through your door telling you that you should get out of there.

“Look, it didn’t mean anything.” Namjoon said, running a hand through his soaked hair in anxiousness.

“I don’t want to hear what it meant Namjoon.” You say, fixing the strap of your bag on your shoulder. In that second, his eyes widened, and his mouth gaped. You were leaving and he could see it. 

“No, no come on, don’t leave. Don’t leave me over it. I’m-- I’m sorry.” He pleads but you give no remorse. “It was only once, I was being stupid, just think for a second.”

You sigh, and walk into your bedroom, opening the drawer with the newspapers you had kept, taking them out and splashing them across the coffee table in the living area. “Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times. Six times.” You say, taking a moment to look over all the newspapers, all the pictures of betrayal and you take a second to look up from them and smile at Namjoon. This was tearing him a part. He was never supposed to get caught.

“Listen I was drunk and--” Namjoon tries to persuade you, trying to take your hands and make everything better. But you were fine. You weren’t upset or even angry anymore, you just wanted to start your better life and this was the only way to kick start it, and so; you cut him off.

“And you were engaged.”

His expression drops, and he swallows harshly in total disbelief of what you had just said. He looks to your hands, and notices the ring isn’t there, he looks to your face and can see that you don’t plan on forgiving him. You can see on his face that he’s ready to burst out. To cry, to lash out at anything but you. And so, you brush past him and shut the door behind you. 

On the way to the elevator, your smiling, as you press the button you feel free, freed from waiting around and free from pretending that you could still love him.

“Wait!” You hear him call, as he runs down the hall after you. 

“Wait, just think about it for five seconds.” He huffs. “They’re just headlines, they don’t mean anything! It’s just publicity.”

And you oblige, raising your thumb, then your forefinger, then your middle finger, then your ring finger and then your pinky, and in turn saying each word.

“Fuck. You. And. Your. Headlines.” Your outstretched hand pushes him away gently as you step in the lift.

You hit the button to shut the elevator doors. As the elevator goes down you breathe a sigh of relief, it was over. On the floor of the apartment you once shared, Namjoon looked defeated, his heart was in tatters, his fists clenched and unclenched. How could he have been so naive to think that after all of that you would wait for him to get over himself. You didn’t take anything like that and that’s why he fell for you. He just never thought he would be on the other end.

His head hung low as he sulked back to the apartment, noticing now that everything of yours was tided away and his things were thrown where ever he had left them. He noticed that your side of the bed was slept in and his wasn’t. He noticed only now; that you had every reason to feel what you’re feeling and he had every reason to be upset that you’re gone. And that you had every reason to be happy about it.

Swiping a hand across the coffee table he knocked all the newspapers onto the floor, even looking at himself made his stomach churn.

“Nice one, Namjoon. You fucked up.” 

Stepping out of the elevator you noticed all the flashing lights and cameras outside, pulling the strap of your bag further over your shoulder, you picked up the courage and brushed through them. It was only towards the end that you decided to speak up, giving the camera a bright smile when you were asked

“How do you feel?”

“Never better. Namjoons a single man, ladies.” You say, smile genuine and grin wide as your photo is taken.

You stay in a motel that night, jumping into the bed and tossing and urning realising you couldn’t sleep. You were just too excited, too giddy that you were finally over the headlines, over the sneaking about and holding in all the pent up secrets. You were over pretending that you could live with him. And Namjoon tossed and turned that night because of your scent on the pillow beside his, your hoodie you couldn’t fit on your bag hanging over the bed post, the picture of you both beside his side of the bed. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He mumbles, taking his phone and texting you, to make sure you got somewhere to go.

NAMJOON: Are you okay? Please come home. Or be safe somewhere.

YOU: If I wasn’t okay you’ll see it in the headlines tomorrow :)

Namjoon slept in the next morning, only wakening to the sound of the newspaper coming through the letter box, dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled to the door, bending down to pick up the newspaper.

“BTS BROKEN HEARTED.” 

And this time, it was you on the front cover. Smiling into the camera. His heart dropped, his stomach clenched and he leaned his head against the front door as he read the article, his eyes brimming with tears of frustration. Self-frustration of how he couldn’t have seen this happening. How he should have known not to cheat. How he had allowed himself to be on headline after headline after every stupid mistake. How the biggest mistake he had ever made was the headliner of every newspaper this morning.

9-What color underwear I’m wearing: Black. -WG