"Jin, please!" Julia cried. "I know you're upset, but we're just sparring." She rubbed her shoulder. "If you're going to take out this much emotion, maybe you'd be better off with a punching bag."
"You're right," Jin sighed, walking over to a bench and plopping down on it. "I don't know who I'm more angry at, him or her. I always thought he at least respected me enough not to pull shit like that. And her... there's just no excuse for that."
Julia crossed her arms and slowly went to stand in front of him. "Jin, what exactly do you think was done?"
"I don't know. But him, her... alone together all night in a hotel room? What am I supposed to think?"
"We've slept in the same room before," she reminded him, sitting down next to him.
"But that's different. We've known each other since we were kids. Our mothers knew each other." He stared at the ground in front of his feet. "And I'm not like him."
"What do you mean?"
"Everything he does. The stealing, the drugs, that whole affair with Anna Williams last year... he's not a good person for her to be hanging around. A talented fighter, yes, and I respect that. But someone like him... don't you think he could influence her?"
"Probably, yes." She knew just from watching the occasional changes in her wardrobe that Xiaoyu was rather impressionable. Jin had a point, but she couldn't stand to think of her friend falling under Hwoarang's pressure, or anyone else's.
"Nothing ever goes right for me," Jin lamented. "Why can't I just be a normal man?"
"Things like this happen to normal men, too, Jin. It's nobody's fault, and it can happen to anyone. It doesn't mean that something is wrong with you." He continued to watch the floor, and Julia half expected the tiles to burst into flame.
"I'm going to go hit the bag for a while," he said finally. Julia squeezed his hand and smiled at him. He bent down to hug her and whispered in her ear, "Thank you for being here for me." He turned and walked toward the punching bags, and Julia wiped his tear from the side of her face.
"You're right," Jin sighed, walking over to a bench and plopping down on it. "I don't know who I'm more angry at, him or her. I always thought he at least respected me enough not to pull shit like that. And her... there's just no excuse for that."
Julia crossed her arms and slowly went to stand in front of him. "Jin, what exactly do you think was done?"
"I don't know. But him, her... alone together all night in a hotel room? What am I supposed to think?"
"We've slept in the same room before," she reminded him, sitting down next to him.
"But that's different. We've known each other since we were kids. Our mothers knew each other." He stared at the ground in front of his feet. "And I'm not like him."
"What do you mean?"
"Everything he does. The stealing, the drugs, that whole affair with Anna Williams last year... he's not a good person for her to be hanging around. A talented fighter, yes, and I respect that. But someone like him... don't you think he could influence her?"
"Probably, yes." She knew just from watching the occasional changes in her wardrobe that Xiaoyu was rather impressionable. Jin had a point, but she couldn't stand to think of her friend falling under Hwoarang's pressure, or anyone else's.
"Nothing ever goes right for me," Jin lamented. "Why can't I just be a normal man?"
"Things like this happen to normal men, too, Jin. It's nobody's fault, and it can happen to anyone. It doesn't mean that something is wrong with you." He continued to watch the floor, and Julia half expected the tiles to burst into flame.
"I'm going to go hit the bag for a while," he said finally. Julia squeezed his hand and smiled at him. He bent down to hug her and whispered in her ear, "Thank you for being here for me." He turned and walked toward the punching bags, and Julia wiped his tear from the side of her face.