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365 days Under His Skin
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(Taeha Pov)
The cursor on my laptop blinked at me mockingly.
Chapter 7: The Actor's Secret Kiss
I groaned and slammed my forehead into the keyboard. The document was filled with gibberish—gggggg. My third energy drink of the night sat empty next to a half-finished bowl of instant ramen, with the noodles congealing into a sad, spicy lump.
Outside, Seoul glittered, with glowing bells humming through my tiny apartment windows. People were living somewhere out there. Dating. Kissing, loving. In the meantime, on December 31, I broke my back while frantically attempting to update a BL fanfiction before midnight. I was a twenty-one-year-old university student with darker circles than the books I read and wrote.
My phone started buzzing. The screen lit up, casting a cold white glow against the yellow warmth of my desk lamp. I sighed and went for it. My attention was drawn first to the home screen, which displayed the time in digits, with only five remaining, and then to my mother's message.
Eomma: Have you finished studying for the economics test? Remember that if you want to continue with the internship that your father has arranged, you must maintain your GPA.
I chose not to respond. The economics textbook sat accusingly in the corner of my desk, untouched since class three days earlier. My father "arranged" an internship at his friend's accounting firm, which I did not want, but explaining it to my parents was impossible. They see my writing as a hobby, something I'll outgrow once I accept my "real responsibilities."
I returned to my laptop and scrolled through the graveyard of unfinished drafts, including The CEO's Forbidden Love and My Dangerous Idol. Everything is terrible. They read like a cringe starter pack for aspiring fanfiction writers, as if I hadn't matured since high school. The title alone made me want to crawl beneath my desk and disappear.
Even early fanfic writers do a better job than I do. Their stories are heartfelt. Plot and suspense. What do they say? Snappy. What about their chemistry? Electric. Meanwhile, I couldn't get through a kissing scene without deleting it five times and questioning my life choices.
What type of writer cannot write?
"Ugh, this headache!" I groaned, clutching my head, as a sharp pain pierced my temple. My imagination, which I could always count on, was already missing, and it appeared that my brain was joining the list.
"Come on, just one more scene," I told myself, pushing aside any negative thoughts. My finger trembled as it touched the key. Just one more, and I'll fall asleep.
My phone started pinging again. This time, it's my roommate.
Eunkyung: Are you still up? You should go to sleep! You've been looking like a zombie lately.
I ignored that message as well. Only one more page. Just one more.
But the pain became more intense, like a warning siren that I had ignored for too long. I couldn't keep pushing through it, so I stood up too quickly, which was the worst mistake I've ever made. Dumber than leaving my economics book blank. It's more ridiculous to choose The CEO's Forbidden Love as a serious title.
The room twirled. My knees began to buckle.
All I wanted to do was reach into my bag for the headache tablets that were tucked inside. Just two pills, some water, and maybe five hours of sleep before reality drew me back into its grip.
But my legs refused to move, my body felt like jelly, and my vision was blurry and out of focus. I grabbed for the desk, but my hand missed. The floor rushed up to meet me, and the last thing I felt was a sharp pain when my head hit the hardwood.
Then everything went black.
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"Kyung-ssi?! Lee Taekyung-ssi?! Are you alright?"
A voice broke through the darkness. Deeply concerned and unfamiliar. I fought to open my eyes. And the smell of coffee exacerbated my existing headache.
Since when has my apartment smelled like coffee? Coffee was something I hated. Even Eunkyung knows that, so why?
"Are you okay, Taehyung-sii?" The same deep voice, this time from a man, asked again.
Wait, is that a male voice?
My eyes popped wide open. A face hovered above me, with sharp, triangular eyes, full lips, and a jawline that could cut glass. He looked like... Lee Hyunshik, the actor I'd been writing about. But that was impossible.
I stood up straight and went completely still. The hands that pushed me up weren't mine. They're too large. It's too masculine. Also, this handsome actor's face is too close. I parted my lips, which were too dry. "Could you please—" I paused, my eyes widening at the sound coming from my mouth. It wasn't my voice. Husky. Deeper. It's too deep.
"Why are you always late, Taekyung? Come on," another voice said, but his voice soon turned into a loud gasp. What's going on? I turned to see another attractive man. This one with tanned skin and playful eyes flashes a bright grin before the gasp.
"You took the pills, didn't you?" The grin on his face faded as concern crept into his words.
Pills? Which pills?
My gaze moved to the desk beside me. An empty sleeping pill bottle and a script titled Eclipse by Lee Taekyung were inscribed on the cover. Not my name. I stumbled to my feet, too tall with long limbs, and lurched toward the hallway mirror. A stranger stared back. Long black hair that is darker than mine.
Caramel skin, thick brows, a square face, and high cheekbones resembled sculptures. Compared to my high-bridged nose with a pointed tip, I have a long nose with an inward nose bridge and a more rounded downward tip. His doe eyes are bigger than mine, but perhaps because of the circles, they don't seem soulful. He has a Cupid's bow, and his lips are a gorgeous pink. Under his rumpled navy dress shirt, this man's shoulders are enormous, damn it.
I bent closer. The stranger followed suit. My finger was inches from his, hovering just above the glass. from my own. He tilted his head, and I tilted mine. He and I both blinked. My breath came quickly and shallowly. "No," I muttered. "No, no, no—" the reflection's lips moved in unison with mine.
"Lee Taekyung." The man, who was actually Hyungshik's double, took hold of my arm. "What is the matter with you?"
What is wrong with me? Everything is wrong around here, including him grabbing my arm. I pulled away. "Do not touch me!" His eyes widened as I pulled my hand.
"No, this isn't me!" I repeated, fear rising in my chest. Without thinking, I dashed for the door, brushing past confused onlookers. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I needed to get away. From a mirror. From Hyungshik's clone. This is from me.
Outside, the streets were unfamiliar, and the buildings towered above me. Car horns blared as I struggled through traffic. Then came the blinding headlights of a truck bearing down on me, which were brighter than sunlight. I could only hear the deafening honk and the screech of brakes. And, worst of all, I was unable to move!
The light became brighter, swallowing everything in its path. I pressed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact.
Then—
White.
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Thanks for reading. See you in the next chapter.
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