Q: Ever had a bathroom disaster that turned out fine in the end? What happened, and how did you manage it?
Yes, bathroom disasters … the “rustic” look might be fine for some, but yesterday half the ceiling in my bathroom came crashing down. It’s one of the downsides of living in an 100-year old house. Apparently the previous owners had attached the plaster and horsehair up there with spit and paint and gravity finally decided enough was enough.
So I spent today prying the rest of the ceiling down, fitted out with a stylish respirator and goggles, since lime dust and asbestos are a thing, I’ve been told, I don’t want to be breathing in. Wasn’t that hard … filthy and disgusting, to be sure, but not impossible. Next is hanging the drywall, but this part was what I was worried about since who knew what I was going to find up there? The desiccated corpse of Jimmy Hoffa?
Happy Valentine's Disaster: A GoldenBlackHawk X Reader One Shot
Oh...So it's almost Halloween, but I'ma write about Valentine's Day! Yay! Just go with it.
Can also be found here on Wattpad.
Prompt: Stuck in the bathroom on Valentine's Day.
Rating: PG-13? For occasional language.
It still felt like it was just the other day he had bumped into her while he was vacationing in Colorado, hanging out with the guys. She’d been on vacation too, sort of. It was a trip for one of her college classes. She was an art major; quirky, funny, the cutest little smile would light up her face. Her eyes sparkled like stars…or maybe like diamonds? He wasn’t sure; he just knew he loved to stare into them, to get lost in them. She had been doing research on some of the murals around the area for a project.
He sighed, his mind only focused on her. Everything would be perfect. The house was spit shined; laundry was done; table was set; candles ready to be lit; roses at the ready; music turned down just right; lamps on the lowest setting; it couldn’t have been better. He just needed to wait for her to get there. It would only be another couple hours.
She had just moved to Seattle. After graduating before the Christmas holiday she had been offered a job at the art museum in town. She had jumped at the chance to have a job closer to him and so she was staying in a friend’s apartment for the time being. She wanted to wait till he got his own place before moving in with him. It seemed a bit odd to move into a house that he shared with his dad.
He didn’t mind waiting; he had been searching hard though. He glanced up at the clock: another hour and a half to go. He needed to get ready. Not that he wasn’t ready; he had just planned on looking extra nice. Rushing to his room, he picked up the suit he had set out earlier. Grateful that his cat hadn’t chosen to sleep on it, which would have resulted in it being covered in fur, he quickly walked to the bathroom to change and fix his hair.
He closed the door behind him, not noticing the faint click that followed as it fell into place. He’d just take a quick hot shower to freshen up and then complete his look for the evening. He stripped himself from the grimy clothes he’d worn to clean up the house, letting the water heat up as he did so. When he stepped into the shower the wisps of steam rose up around him, relieving his muscles of the tension they held.
All his worries, his nervousness, about tonight slipped away. They were carried down the drain with the soapy water, disappearing down to the depths where they belonged. He breathed in the steamy air, letting it cleanse him of any last worries and blowing them out in a giant huff. There was nothing to worry about. Tonight would go off without a hitch. She’d love it; they’d eat, laugh, cuddle, and eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms after a few soft kisses and the whispering of sweet nothings.
Finally removing all the soap from himself he bent down to turn off the faucet. As he rotated the handle controlling the hot water the screw holding it in place came lose. This caused the handle to come off leaving the scalding water to continue spilling into the tub. He quickly pulled the curtain back and jumped out to avoid burning his feet. Still dripping wet he looked at the handle he still grasped and back at the faucet in confusion. It still hadn’t sunk in what had just happened.
Dripping wet he turned, setting the handle on the counter and grabbing a towel. He dried himself in a hurry, planning fully on leaving to grab some pliers from the closet in an attempt to turn the small piece the handle had once been attached to, in order to stop the flow of hot water. He wrapped the towel firmly around his waist, small droplets still falling from his black hair, as he reached for the door knob.
He grasped it firmly and began to twist. As he did so, the handle came off. He looked at it, stared at it actually, before looking up in complete and utter awe at what was going on. He tried to place the door knob back on to no avail. The door just wasn’t having any of it tonight. He let it fall to the floor and ran a hand through his wet hair in exasperation.
Maybe he could fiddle with the locking mechanism and get it to open? He bent down, looking closely at the inside workings of the door knob. He gently placed a finger inside, trying to make the mechanism go the way he wanted it too. All it did was jam in tighter. This wasn’t happening.
It couldn’t be happening. Tonight was supposed to be perfect and now everything felt as though it was going to shit. His whole plan was falling apart right in front of him and there was nothing he could do about it. It suddenly dawned on him that he could call someone. He turned to the counter, looking frantically for his cell phone. He even checked the pockets of the pants he had removed upon entering the bathroom. That’s when he remembered; he’d sat his phone down in the kitchen earlier that day and hadn’t picked it back up. As far as he knew it still sat there.
He was now quite mad with himself. How could he have been so stupid? What was she going to think when she tried to call and he never answered? He let himself slide down to the floor. Still in nothing but a towel it was far from the most comfortable of positions. He felt water running down his skin.
The sudden heat of the room swept over him like a heat wave. The steam from the still running hot water was turning the room into a makeshift sauna. If he stayed in there for too long he’d turn into a raisin and possibly just continue to shrivel away. The water on his body was no longer just left from his shower; it was now a mixture of sweat and water accumulating on him from the air.
He rested his elbows on his knees, letting his face fall into his hands. What was he going to do now? This whole thing was turning into a disaster. What if he died in here? What a way to go. He could see the headlines now: Young man dies trapped in bathroom. As if he didn’t get ridiculed enough in life, just imagine what it would be like after dying like this, if there was anything after death that is.
He thought about (your name). She’d be so upset. Probably disappointed too; disappointed that he hadn’t been able to get out, that he hadn’t tried hard enough. But what could he do? The heat was sapping him of his energy, he had left his phone in the kitchen, his tools where in the closet, and the floor was now wet and slippery. The options were sparse and he had exhausted most of them.
A tear fell from his eye. He was going to die. He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay with his friends, to laugh with them, to play with them, to grow old with them. He wanted to hold you, to see your smile, to get lost in your eyes again, to grow old with you, to marry you, start a family with you. He wanted so much more in life, but he had never thought about it quite like this before.
He laughed; a simple, little “how could I have been so stupid and naïve” laugh. He’d never thought much of life. He’d experienced not wanting to go on; feeling worthless like you had no use being alive. But now he understood, he got it, he wanted to live. He needed to live. He needed to live for you, for his friends, for his fans.
But he had accepted his fate. He was going to die…alone…hot…sweaty…like a raisin…in his own bathroom. What more could he have asked for on Valentine’s Day?
________________
You pulled the phone away from your head for the sixth time in the last fifteen minutes. Why wasn’t Kevin answering? He’d said he had a surprise for you tonight, so why not answer? Worry was beginning to sink in as you glanced at the time in the corner of the screen. He said he’d call at six, and it was now fifteen after. Kevin was never late. He always called exactly on time when he said he was going to call at a specific time.
You were ready to go, to walk out that door and drive to his house. You tried one last time, dialing the number and waiting.
“Hi, you’ve reached Kevin. I can’t answer the phone right now because I’m busy or recording, but if you could leave a message, I’ll try to get back to you when I can.” The recording played.
You ended the call and promptly grabbed your keys. You called out a quick good-bye to your friend and headed for your car. You weren’t waiting any longer. Something had to be wrong. You plopped down into the leather seat, your dress riding up higher than you’d like. As the engine purred to life you slammed it into reverse, backing out of the drive as fast as you dared. The car raced down the road almost as fast as your heart was racing in your chest. It felt like something was going to explode, you just didn’t know if it was going to be your heart or the car engine. (Stupidest line I’ve ever written right there!)
*Time Skip Like A Boss*
It took ten minutes to get to Kevin’s house, as opposed to the usual twenty-five. Thank God for no traffic on this night. His car was in the driveway. That was a good sign, right? You quickly pulled in, parking behind it and running up to the door. Three swift knocks fallowed by a succession of door bell rings announced your presence……….there was no answer. No “be there in a minute” or “just a sec” like usual.
Tears threatened to fall as you had a mental panic attack. Why wasn’t he answering the fucking door!? You fumbled with the potted plant sitting to the side, firmly grasping the spare key that sat beneath it. Kevin had said to only use it in emergencies. If this wasn’t an emergency, then you had no clue what he meant by that. You flung the door open and were welcomed by the scent of fresh roses.
Your jaw dropped as you took in the sight before you. The table set and ready to be dined at, the candles ready to be lit, fresh roses in a vase, and the faintest sound of music softly playing in the background greeted you. Never had you expected this. It had been eight months, but this looked like something for a wedding anniversary. But where was Kevin? That was the one thing missing.
“Kevin!” You called.
….
Nothing. That was strange. You glanced down the hall toward his room.
“Kevin! You there babe?”
….
Still nothing. You headed cautiously down the hall. This felt far too much like a scene from a horror movie or slash flick. As you went by the bathroom the floor made a squish noise and the temperature rose by several degrees. What on Earth was going on here? You tapped on the door.
“Kevin…are you in there?”
*moaning*
“Kevin!”
That had to be him. Was he hurt? What happened?
“Kevin can you open the door?”
More moans. How long had he been in there? You jiggled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t a normal lock…thank God. You quickly ran to the kitchen, retrieving a butter knife from the drawer. This would unlock it. You rushed back, placing the knife into the slot and turning it quickly. The door opened this time.
A wall of hot steam rushed out at you, causing you to scream and step back in shock. Waving a hand in front of you, you quickly set about finding Kevin the mass of hot steam that now bellowed from the door way. What in the name of all things sacred was going on? You dove in, slipping on the wet floor and falling down with a thud.
There you found Kevin, lying there in a towel, half passed out from the heat. You wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him out the door with you, not noticing the towel had fallen off. You took him to the couch in the other room. It was closer than his bed. That’s when you noticed the towel was missing.
A deep blush rose on your cheeks as you scrambled to cover him with a nearby blanket. Now you needed to cool him down. You grabbed the fan from across the room, placing it in front of him and then running to get some ice water and a cold wash cloth. You placed the cloth on his forehead, hoping he would come back around enough to get a drink.
He grumbled something that you couldn’t understand. His eyes fluttered around before landing on you.
“Is this heaven?” He mumbled.
You smiled, “I thought you didn’t believe in heaven?”
“Hmm…But you’re an angel right?”
“Drink this mister delirious.” He smirked, “Nearly died and you’re still smooth as ever I see.”
“Always.” He says taking a long drink.
“You’re so cheesy.”
“So you saved me. I guess I owe you.”
“I thought I was losing you. You’re alive though, so you don’t owe me anything.”
It suddenly dawned on him that he had only been in a towel back in the bathroom. He glanced down, seeing the blanket that covered him. His eyes went wide and he shifted uncomfortably, a blush forming on his cheeks.
“I didn’t see anything.”
He relaxed a touch.
“Well…maybe I saw just a bit.” He stared at you blankly, “Ok, so I might have seen…everything.”
You gave him a big grin. He visibly paled.
“You did a nice job of cleaning up the house and making it all romantic and stuff.” You pointed out, hoping to cheer him up.
“Shit! It was supposed to be a surprise.” He says shitting up quickly.
“It was a surprise alright! I didn’t think you’d accidentally try to kill yourself!”
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. There were just a few…mishaps.”
“Right. We should probably call someone about your shower.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day?!” You gave him a quick kiss.
“Yeah…more like Happy Valentine’s Disaster.” A pout forms on his face, but you kiss him again anyways.
This week at NSLI-Y was our Korean Boot Camp week, in which we took intensive Korean classes and had more orientation. We started learning some basics of Korean language and former NSLI-Y students came in to discuss their experiences of school and homestay so we would be prepared for what lies ahead. But as much as our orientation did cover (culture shock, establishing good family relationships, meeting new people at school), there is one thing that was left out...
Last Tuesday was my 18th birthday; it was spent well with my new family eating a delicious cake and birthday seaweed soup. The next day, however, began a bit differently. I woke up normally and went to the bathroom to clean up, as one does. After using the toilet, I pressed the flushing lever, careful to ignore the strange panel of buttons with pictures of peaches and flowery breezes on them (who knows what those do...) I thought all was well as the water rose and the toilet flushed...
But then the water rose more. And didn't stop. In a panic as the level reached the edges of the bowl I grabbed the plunger behind the toilet and went to work (as quietly as possible so as not to alert my family). I plunged for dear life but the flood would not stop... Soon enough, it flowed over the bowl and onto the floor as I whisked away the bath mat before it would be tainted.
My only savior was the Korean style bathroom, which has no tub but instead a shower drain in the middle of the bathroom floor. The toilet water luckily flowed there instead of into the rest of the apartment; still, the toilet was clogged, and I had to sheepishly call for umma to come help me. She rushed over frantically to find... a lovely morning gift from me. Unfazed, she kindly remedied the situation and then informed me that in Korea, toilet paper is thrown in the waste basket, not flushed away.
Never did I expect my first action of my supposed adulthood to be clogging my family's bathroom. I did learn two important lessons from this mess, though, which I'm sure I'll never forget: first, the word for toilet paper is 휴지, and second, if you ever see a sign in the bathroom that says "No 휴지", you had better not ignore it. So if the toilet in the YES center ever becomes clogged by some poor 외국인, you know it wasn't me!
