#xkkit

      For once she was given a chance to lead the radio show at Kiss the Radio and she was failing the whole team, she was failing the thousands of the listeners that were waiting to hear her and their special guest Kit Harington. She was so nervous the night before since it’d be her first solo radio show that she could barely sleep, replaying the script in her head over and over again. That morning everything was going according to the plan: she woke up on time, put on make up, dressed up the way she planned beforehand and headed out of her apartment to work. However, the Gods of Roads weren’t favorable to her that day and in the middle of the way the bus she was in got into the accident ( minor one, fortunately nobody got hurt ) so she had to wait for another one. However, because of the car rash that had happened, the traffic was heavy and the transport was barely moving from it’s spot in ten minutes. 

She had to be in the studio, preparing the booth ten minutes ago and she could sense her phone tearing apart from the calls and texts form her management telling her how she was irresponsible and unreliable, threatening to fire her if she won’t appear at work in twenty minutes. Sohee was on the verge of tears from anger and frustration. It wasn’t her fault but she was disappointed in herself with the situation that she had caused, yet it wasn’t the time to get weak and emotional. One glance at the clock and at the traffic jam that had no end and the woman was already running to the studio, knowing that she’d make it there faster on her own. She wasn’t the best runner and even if she did work out, her legs weren’t as strong to run such long distances, however the adrenaline from fearing to lose her job was helping her to not give up. 

By the time she reached the office she was barely walking for her legs were numb from all the running, she looked like a complete mess but she couldn’t care less about it at that moment. The disc jockey ignored all the scolding that was thrown her way while she was heading to the studio, all she could think about was the listeners and the guest. She didn’t expect for her feet to hurt so much when she tried to run again to get to the waiting room faster and she stumbled the moment she opened the door, almost crashing into the guest.

Well done, Sohee. She bit down her lip to hold in the frustration that yet again was bringing her closer to the emotional outburst, however she was stronger and somehow even managed to smile to the guest. 

            “I am alright! I’m sorry.              Both for scaring you and for being              late so please don’t die because              my delay is already enough              to get fired. Getting to jail              would be too much for              one day.” 

They walk side by side, a little too quickly for it to be considered as a casual walk, and a little too slowly for it to be considered as anything alarming. She glances over at Kit to gauge his reaction and when she opens her mouth to speak, she quickly closes it again feeling the tension between the two hadn’t quite settled as of yet. He wasn’t meant to see anything that had happened, and one could imagine her surprise when he had happened upon her conducting her “business” for the night. If anything, he should be the one thanking her for not overreacting as she would with anyone else. The thought crosses her mind bitterly and it shows in the way her lips purse and how she accidentally bumps into his shoulder.

Something about people keeping quiet bothers her, causes paranoia to set in and she pauses in her step. “I’m sorry you saw that.” Her words are barely above a whisper, and normally she isn’t ashamed of who she is and what she does. But when she has a chance of normal friendship, for once, it’s disheartening to know that she’s possibly ruined the one chance. “I can’t tell you why it happened, but I trust you won’t speak a word of it to anyone.” There’s a hidden undertone in her words: a threat if you will, and it aggravates her that she has to put that notion out there but at this point she doesn’t know what to do.

( ❀ ) —- @xkkit : SOURCESTATUS: ACCEPTING !

SEND ME A  ▲ FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO YOURS : ( 1 ) attack - hugging them.

( ❀ ) —- IT WAS NOT OFTEN Mina was able to stumble upon friends during her random strolls along the streets. Especially not since she became an idol, or gained the recognition from the public eye due her appearance on the TV show she had appeared on before debuting, she had not even been going out a lot, to be able to meet any of the people she had, in one way or the other, met before she debuted. However, when a man wrapped his strong arms around Mina’s petite body.

NOW WHY EXACTLY WAS THAT NECESSARY? Had he given her a reason to spitfire a response? All he said was, ‘Excuse me.’ What exactly clawed its way into her life for a scummy response such as ‘Don’t talk to me.’? In truth, this whole situation seemed completely UNNECESSARY, all she had to do was take two steps to the left, allowing him to push past and out of the elevator to the floor she clearly didn’t need to get off on. No sound comes from the wolf, just a slightly wolfish grin that resonated from the other man in the room who seemed to be very preoccupied on finding out what Kit would do NEXT. A fight would break out, of course, but this was a new shirt and that was the last thing that’d be smeared in this guy’s certain defeat. Before he knew it, a ding echoed from steel walls, doors shutting quietly and on came the candid G-force. Now, he was really getting TICKED OFF.  

          “Miss.”

                   “What? What do you want?”

         “..hn, try to guess the answer.”’

    First impressions were of great importance the heiress. Every action, every word, every intonation mattered — especially in a world of consistent scrutiny and grapevine conversations. After all, what was in a name, if one’s reputation could not live up to it?  But alas, when the heiress had the disgusting pleasure of presenting as her father’s coveted lapdog to the sons of potential partners, she found it rather difficult to assume a chipper presence. So she went about entering the elevator, arms crossed, donning a pair of Fendi cat-eyes. Her profile, though silent, spoke a distinct string of words: Don’t dare speak to someone like me. 

And nobody did. Not her single bodyguard, nor the other man encapsulated in the mutual surrounding. Her only objective was to reach the 20th floor without any bother; the sooner she ended this white-collared rendezvous — the sooner she finished portraying herself as the strait-laced and frigid woman she was — the better. She had been forced to  miss an exhibition  for such an atrocity. This verity alone threatened her composure, and before she knew it, she had snapped.          “This elevator’s going slow on purpose. Why on earth does it keep stopping on so many floors?” Complaints that hung in the air, only further adding to the tension in the 7-by-5 vicinity. No obnoxious response from her bodyguard, only a mutter from a low voice — was it a request of sorts? Frankly, she didn’t care, and so she impatiently pressed the close-door button.           But he persisted. 

Really, the female wasn’t a brat, nor did she claim a temper. But the clock ticked, and the more she dwelled on her place in this society, in this wretched elevator, the less she could manage. The door closed successfully. Floor 12. 8 more ahead. Could she bear eight floors without being bothered? Yeah, right.  And so she responded  to the man’s grouse with a tone of disregard, but with an eloquence that could never abstain.         “Pardon me, sir. But I have somewhere to be, and time is of the essence.  Surely, it wouldn’t kill you to withstand eight more floors, would it? Preferably in silence.” She hadn’t acknowledged him visually prior. But for this moment, she thought to turn, assess him beneath designer sunglasses, and dared to offer a contemptuous smile.

       Her past with the gang was torn and burnt to ashes but the scars they have left on her body, on her heart and soul, even on her mind were still haunting her. The damage was too big to simply let go and life wasn’t making it easy to her with having her heart broken. However, very few people knew of her problems in the past and even those that were bothering her in the present, she wasn’t used to letting people see her vulnerable side. Exposing her weakness, her fragile heart was scarring her. It was the secret she had to carry and she had to pretend like nothing had happened even though she wasn’t the same.

The woman had long forgotten how it felt to be taken care of and she was scared that if she will be reminded she won’t be able to be strong again. Still, she wasn’t made of iron, she was a human that was masochistically letting herself feel again and again. Sometimes it was more than she could handle, sometimes sadness was stronger.

The doctor didn’t see Kit coming to visit her and see her tears, however, it still happened and she didn’t want to darken his life with her problems even though she knew he’d be glad to help. The problem was that nobody could help her but herself and she was too exhausted to do it. She just wanted to be happy but believing that she was fated for it was harder and harder.