Untitled 070810

The drama at work is a major killer... And someone pointed out that I'm too wordy and that I should keep things short and concise... She also said I cannot write a fic with only 500 words or less, so I said BRING IT ON!!

This is the result of the challenge. 464 words, waddup wid dat, b!atch??! Just kidding, the one who challenged me is a good long lost friend... Nyahahaha...

I was able to write one, but the thing is I'm not sure if it makes any sense at all.

And, it has no title.. Suggestions, please??

I'd appreciate some comments, and please tell me if it does not make any sense..
~*~

“Yoboseyo...”

The greeting makes you wince in pain, like daggers piercing through your heart and twisting it, digging deeper, cutting through.

“Yoboseyo??”

The voice rings in your ears as you hasten your pace, almost a jog. Trying to be discrete you slow down a bit, but the dagger cuts through and slices your heart open. And so, you run.

“Hyunjoongah, I know you're there.”

You just cannot get the voice inside your head. You run, as fast as you can—away from people, away from the flashing lights, away from it all.

“Hyunjoongah, are you listening to me? Hyunjoongah, please...”

You feel the tartan tracks burning under your soles as you increase your speed. But the faster you run, the louder her pleading voice echoes in your head.

“I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but I need to know if you're alright. Are you okay, Shillang?”

The air that's supposed to enter your lungs seemed to have abandoned you. You take in shallow breaths as you continue to run.

'Shillang?'

The term of endearment she used so casually doubled the pain you were trying to endure right now. 'How could she call me that now, when she was the one who called it off?', you thought as the scene of you on your knees proposing to her flashed in your chaotic head.

“You are going to be fine.. I know you can overcome all these..”

You shook your head. No, you are not going to be fine. And, you doubt whether or not you can get passed this ordeal with your group, with your former Management Company, with your anti-fans.

“If you need me..”, she stammered.

The sincerity in her voice was shaking the ground you ran on. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say, and part of you does not want to hear it anymore. But no matter how many times she breaks and rips your heart out of your chest, she was still the only one.

“If you need me, I'm just here, Shillang. I'm ready to listen. I'm just here..”

You drop to the ground as exhaustion takes over your tired body. Your heart was pounding on your chest. Sweat trickled from your forehead as you try to catch your breath. Her kind words on that phone call were stinging your barely alive heart. You close your eyes feeling the cold night air and listening to the deafening silence.

You get lost in your moment of reverie, and you silently formulate the words you wanted to say to her:

You have no right to ask me how I feel. You have no right to speak to me so kind. Now that we're living separate lives...