What if Jimin actually became a fuckgirl and took advantage of her glow up? What if she actually held a grudge against her high school crush and classmates who laughed at her? What if her childhood crush came back to their town, heartbroken, looking for a job at HER company? Will Jimin forgive her? Or are they now destined to become just enemies with benefits? Or Minjeong came back home broken-hearted and looking for a fresh start. Started working for her loser childhood playmate, who is n
Yu Jimin had always been the odd one out growing up.
The Yu family, whose primary business was running a vineyard, were all notoriously beautiful, handsome, and with class. She knew she didn’t fit in.
Starting with her Father Yu Siwon who commanded the room with his tall and muscular build, hair slicked back and jaw line that screamed masculinity, her mother Yu Tiffany with long wavy hair that reached her waist, a face that could launch a thousand ships, and eyes that could stare you down and judge your whole existence, and of course her perfect Joohyun unnie who was the pride and joy of her parents, the perfect blend of innocence and femme fatale with brains.
Being around her family added to her developing inferiority complex; they never mistreated her, but their presence alone made her feel insufficient to be even called a Yu.
School wasn’t better either. Yu Jimin had a reputation as the ugly duckling of her family, always overshadowed by her Joohyun unnie’s achievements, both physically and mentally. She was short, scrawny, her hair always a mess, and in this wolf cut with bangs that she barely brushed, always wearing her signature oversized flannel, wide pants, and eyeglasses that covered half of her face.
No one wanted anything to do with Jimin, especially with her trembling stutter, which usually made people uncomfortable.
The mandatory class presentation and recitation were always the hardest. The teacher and her classmates avoided eye contact and swallowed the second-hand embarrassment when it was her turn to speak.
Jimin stood at the front and read her notes from her index cards with unsteady hands. “Th-the former pre-president,” she stammered her way through her report, when she heard giggles from her classmates.
“What’s going on?” the teacher spoke up, drawing the class' attention.
A boy at the back answered, “No-nothing Ms Im.” A clear mockery of Jimin’s speech impediment.
The boy’s group burst into laughter, while some of her decent classmates looked at them with disgust.
This was one of those moments where Jimin felt the smallest. She trembled, fidgeting with her sleeves as she looked around, as if asking someone to save her, until she found the watery eyes of a certain blonde girl, trying to hold back laughter.
Kim Minjeong, her supposed childhood friend, whom she thought she could count on, was now someone who would deny they even knew each other in the first place.
High school life sucked.
Jimin couldn’t leave the school fast enough. She just made a fool out of herself again, but in gym class this time. Her uncoordinated limbs cost her team a volleyball game and their grades, earning groans and complaints from her teammates, and prompting their teacher to call for a rematch sans Jimin.
She was walking head down, holding her unzipped bag to her chest, shoulders hunched, just trying to be invisible, when she collided with another body, causing her to lose hold of her things as she stumbled down and fell butt-first.
Humiliation, embarrassment, and ridicule were Jimin’s life themes after all.
Jimin wanted to cry out in pain, but when she looked up, the other party barely moved an inch, but were looking down at her with a sneer. “Watch where you’re going. Don’t want to catch your loser cooties,” Jay, the captain of the football team, spat at her, his arms wrapped around his girlfriend, Kim Minjeong. Jay’s entourage of fellow athletes and cheerleaders stood behind the couple.
Other students stopped in their tracks, but no one dared to help Jimin out.
Minjeong, looking like a chick-flick antagonist wearing her cheerleading uniform, her arms crossed on her chest, snickering, “Let’s go, no sense staying here for another second.” Minjeong and Jimin made eye contact for the second time that day.
Jimin’s eyes were seemingly asking for help, trying to look for the 5-year-old Minjeong she used to play with at the vineyard, but finding no trace of innocence, and only found contempt.
Minjeong broke eye contact, looking straight ahead as Jay guided her through the scattered books and dirty clothes on the floor.
Jimin watched them walk by when she saw Minjeong kick something that landed on her lap. She picked it up, and it was her soiled boxers from gym class. Her eyes widened, cheeks flushed, as she tried to hide the embarrassing garment as fast as she could inside her bag.
Someone laughed out loud, igniting more cackles and snorts from the audience.
Jimin heard a whisper from the girl. “Pathetic.” As she gathered the last of her things, tears were building up, and a sob wanted to break out of her.