pisces energy

I was dreaming.

Of lips and hands… warmth and steam… of Hyunjin’s voice low in my ear, saying my name like a secret he didn’t want anyone else to know. His fingers were on my hips again, guiding me. His mouth brushed over my neck, soft and slow, like he was trying to memorize the shape of me in the dark…

BZZZT. BZZZT. BZZZT.

My alarm cut through the fantasy like a machete. 

I groaned and rolled over, blindly smacking at the nightstand until I hit something – my phone, apparently – causing it to fall with a clatter. The clock by the lamp blinked at me tauntingly.

7:24 AM.

Shit. I’d hit snooze, multiple times. Celeste, the boat tour. Shit!

I groaned again, face buried in the pillow as I stretched my limbs, trying to drag myself out of the thick fog of sleep… and the even thicker remnants of Hyunjin still lingering all over me. More flashes of last night came uninvited: his mouth on mine, the steam curling around us, the sound he made when I moved just right against him. A shiver rolled down my spine, and I let out a quiet, giddy laugh into the sheets. 

God. That really happened. 

And I wanted to relive it all over again. 

But then reality slammed back in with all the subtlety of a foghorn: Celeste, boat, work. I shot upright like I’d been electrocuted, sheets tangled around my legs, hair a half-dried disaster from last night’s shower. 

“Oh my god, I’m so dead,” I muttered as I stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping over my tote bag in the process. I grabbed it, yanked open the closet, and started pulling out clothes like I was in a timed dressing challenge. 

Flowy pants, breathable tank, sunglasses. Anything that said put-together even though I was the exact opposite of that. 

As I scrambled into my outfit, I grabbed my phone off the floor, quickly scanning it for any Celeste texts. Strangely, there was nothing. That somehow made me feel worse. 

Once presentable, I was practically sprinting down the corridor, sandals slapping against polished tile, hair barely wrangled into a clip, breath tight in my chest from a mix of adrenaline and dread. The resort lobby came into view, and so did they.

Celeste stood in a loose white linen set and designer sunglasses, sipping something that was almost certainly not water and already barking orders at a poor resort staffer. She looked every bit the effortlessly rich writer preparing to glide onto a yacht with minimal human interaction. 

And just a few feet behind her was Hyunjin.

He was standing near a line of shaded chairs, hands in his pockets, scanning the lobby like he was looking for someone. 

Me. 

His eyes met mine, and the second he saw me, his face softened into this hopeful, crooked smile, one hand raising in a quiet wave. 

The corners of my lips twitched up –

But then Celeste turned, sharp and sudden. Like she’d sensed my presence through pure disdain. Her brows lifted above her sunglasses like I was a minor inconvenience that had followed her home. 

I forced myself toward her, pulse still racing. “Sorry I’m late, I overslept, but I’m ready to go now, I have the camera and my notes from –”

She cut me off with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. “Gemma, darling, you don’t need to come.”

I blinked. “I don’t?”

“No,” she said breezily, already glancing past me. “It’s a leisure tour. A soft beginning before the real work begins tomorrow. And frankly…” She took a sip of her drink, eyes flicking back to me over the rim. “You remind me of work. Or poverty. Both, actually.”

My mouth fell slightly open. Was that a joke?

It didn’t matter. She had already turned on her heel, speaking to someone else as if I’d vanished. As if I was a bag of trash someone forgot to take out. And just like that, I was dismissed. Left standing there with my tote bag, my heart still racing from running and from him, and a sharp little ache blooming in my chest. 

Why am I even here? The thought came fast, uninvited but familiar. And for a moment, I didn’t move. I just stood there, watching her walk away like I was something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe.

But before I could fully spiral…

“Trouble in paradise?”

I turned to find Hyunjin standing just a few feet away, hands still in his pockets, expression cautious but laced with amusement. He raised his brows like he wasn’t sure if I was about to cry or curse someone out.

I rolled my eyes, but it helped, loosening the tension in my shoulders just enough to exhale. “She said I remind her of work or poverty,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “Which, you know, is so refreshing to hear first thing in the morning.”

“Wow,” he said, blinking with a disbelieved chuckle. “That’s… a bold sentence.”

“That’s Celeste.”

He gave me a look. “Do you want me to throw her in the ocean? Because I’m free all morning.”

That made me laugh, a little too loud and a little too relieved. “Tempting,” I said, “But I’d probably end up being the one arrested.”

“I’d bail you out.”

“You’d flirt with the officers.”

“Only if it helped…” He held his arm out in mock chivalry. “Come on, let me steal you from your tyrant. There’s coffee on the terrace, and I heard rumors about fresh fruit and obscenely buttery croissants.”

“You really know how to tempt a girl.”

“I’m versatile,” he said, grinning as I looped my arm through his. 

We stepped out onto the sun-drenched breakfast terrace where everything was golden, tablecloths fluttering in the breeze, birdsong cutting through the clink of silverware, the ocean glittering just past the edge of the railing. 

Hyunjin grabbed two cappuccinos and a plate of pastries like he’d done this a thousand times, sliding it all onto a table in the corner with an easy smile. 

“So,” he said once we sat, tearing a croissant in half, “you’ve suddenly got the day off, huh? What are you going to do with all that freedom?”

I blinked at him over my coffee. “Is this your subtle way of offering a distraction?”

“Not subtle at all, actually.” He leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs. “My family’s doing a little thing today. Kind of an unofficial reunion-within-the-reunion. Food, music, my aunts will get drunk and try to salsa.”

“Sounds chaotic.”

“It is.” His eyes twinkled. “You should come.”

I tried to fight the grin forming on my lips, but it won anyway. “Are you inviting me to meet your entire family?” I asked. “Because this sounds suspiciously like a trap.”

“It might be,” he said with a teasing shrug.

I tilted my head. “Is this a date?”

He hesitated, just for a second, then laughed softly and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “Yeah,” he said, eyes flicking back to mine. “I guess it is.”

And just like that, the ache Celeste left in her wake vanished, replaced by something warmer. Something that felt a lot like hope.

The corners of my lips curled up before I could stop them, the warmth in my chest spreading all the way to my fingertips. “Meeting your family,” I started, lifting my cappuccino to my mouth. “That’s going to raise some questions, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin grinned, tapping the rim of his glass against mine with a soft clink. “You’re great at pretending to fit in, you said so yourself.”

I arched my brow. “That’s not as comforting as you think it is.”

He tilted his head, that little amused dimple forming at the edge of his mouth. “No, I mean it. You’re good at reading the room. Adapting.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah… it’s a skill. But it can still be exhausting.”

His expression softened, something in him shifting – shoulders relaxing, eyes meeting mine without a trace of the usual teasing. 

“Then don’t pretend,” he said gently. “Just come as you. I want them to meet you.”

He said it so simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world, as if it didn’t terrify me to be seen just as I was, no title, no task, no clever mask of competence to hide behind.

And yet… with him… it didn’t feel like such a risk. 

I watched him for a second, the sun catching the edge of his cheekbone, his mouth still curled in a soft, hopeful smile. “I was going to say yes anyway,” I murmured, setting my cup down and smiling fully now. “But that kind of made it impossible not to.”

His smile widened, and it was the kind of look that made it feel like the day had already turned out better than planned. 

I took a deep breath at the edge of the terrace, fingers clutched tightly around the little woven clutch I’d found at the back of my suitcase. The linen dress I’d found crumpled beneath my laptop charger somehow looked… romantic now. Breezy cream-colored with soft floral details embroidered at the hem and neckline, like it had been waiting for a moment like this to shine. It hugged my frame in a way that felt elegant, not try-hard like I was anticipating. 

My hair was pinned up in a messy, makeshift updo, the kind I’d thrown together a thousand times before – but today, the pieces falling around my face looked intentional, not frazzled. 

But nothing about the tightness in my chest felt casual. This wasn’t just a party, this was his family, and they were… well, rich. Like, actually rich.

Not Celeste’s eccentric fame kind of rich – generational, old-world, terrace-overlooking-the-Mediterranean rich. 

The second I stepped onto the private cliffside courtyard, the beauty hit me and stole my breath away. Even the air felt different here. Lighter, saltier. Warm and fragrant from the blooms climbing up the carved stone columns. There were long floral centerpieces and strings of warm lights draped overhead, swaying gently in the coastal breeze like they were natural occurrences that had always existed there. 

And the people – effortlessly beautiful in various shades of white, laughing, sipping, dancing barefoot to live guitar music that drifted through the air. It was everything Celeste had ever tried to manufacture, but this was real. Organic. Glowing. Full of joy. 

I was still breathless when I finally found him. 

Hyunjin, laughing with two of his cousins near the drink table, a linen shirt half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, pants relaxed and effortless and exactly what someone like him should wear to a family gathering that looked like a lifestyle commercial. 

And then his eyes found me. He stopped mid-sentence, his smile faltering for just a second, eyes wide, taking me in, before his grin broke fully across his face. Radiant.

He handed off his drink without looking and made a beeline through the crowd, weaving effortlessly through relatives, never taking his eyes off me. “There you are,” he said, sweeping his arm around my waist like he’d been doing it for years. His hand was warm and grounding against the small of my back, and before I could even catch my breath, he was leaning in. 

“You look…” His eyes flicked down and back up, lingering just enough to make my skin warm beneath the fabric. “Amazing. I mean – seriously, I think you broke me a little just now.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out more like a stunned breath. “You told me to wear white. You didn’t say ‘angel descending from a cloud bank’ white.” I gestured to the other guests whose outfits gleamed like perfect pearls in the sunlight.

“Well, if I had, you might’ve gotten a big head,” he teased, fingers smoothing over the fabric of my dress.

“Too late.”

He laughed and pulled me a little closer. 

And somehow, the nerves began to melt away, as if this moment… this place, this boy… had always been waiting for me to show up.

The next hour passed in a blur of names and laughter and the warmth of wine poured with a heavy hand by strangers who quickly stopped feeling like strangers. Hyunjin barely left my side, introducing me with a casual ease. “This is Gemma. She’s…”

The sentence always changed. Sometimes my friend, sometimes my date, once even my accomplice.

But every time, he said it like I was already a part of the picture. Already a part of his story. 

His extended family – aunts, uncles, distant cousins with Mediterranean sun glowing on their skin – welcomed me in without hesitation. I held my own. The banter came easy, witty jabs and snappy comebacks. More than once, I caught someone elbowing Hyunjin like “She’s clever, this one.”

I blushed but didn’t shrink. They made it easy. I felt like me. Not the assistant, not the side character. Just… Gemma.

And he just watched me. From across the table as I made one of his uncles laugh hard enough to choke on his prosecco. From beside me as I debated one of his cousins about whether coffee or wine was more important to sustaining the human spirit.

Hyunjin looked at me like I was a painting he hadn’t expected to connect with, like he was discovering something new every time he saw me, like he wanted to remember this exact version of me forever. 

And then, I was meeting his parents. 

His father extended a hand, firm and warm, with a crisp, calming air that felt familiar. He introduced himself and asked a few questions about my writing, my travels, my impressions of the coast, and I kept up, polite but honest. 

He smiled once. “Sharp mind, good answers.”

I wasn’t sure if it was approval, but it felt close. 

Then there was his mother. Refined, understated, watchful. Absolutely gorgeous. She offered a polite smile and complimented my dress in a way that felt rehearsed. Her gaze lingered just a second longer than it should’ve, eyes skimming between me and her son. 

I couldn’t read her, and I hated that, but I didn’t let it ruin the moment. 

Because before I could spiral, Hyunjin’s fingers found mine again with a gentle tug, and he leaned in. “I’m stealing you,” he whispered with a grin. “Be right back, everyone.”

He led me through the sea of linen and sun-dappled chatter, weaving past laughing relatives and dancing cousins until we reached a quiet little corner of the terrace, where fairy lights tangled up with ivy and the sea stretched out just beyond the railing. 

He handed me a fresh glass of champagne and leaned against the wall beside me, eyes fixed on mine. “I just needed a second with you,” he said, voice low, rough around the edges in a way that made my skin flush.

“Why?” I asked, smiling into the rim of my glass. 

His eyes searched mine, soft and unguarded. “Because watching you out there…” He exhaled. “I think I might be completely screwed.”

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes. He shifted closer, one shoulder against the wall, his fingertips brushing the bare skin of my arm like he didn’t realize he was doing it. 

“You’ve officially out-charmed my entire family,” he said, grinning. “One of my aunts asked if we’re engaged.”

“Already? We haven’t even danced yet.”

“You’re right, we should keep up appearances.” He bumped my shoulder with his, his smile turning softer. “But seriously, you’re… wow, Gemma. Incredible. I mean, I already knew that, but today kind of made it official.”

“You’re not just saying that because I rescued you from that debate about pineapple pizza with your cousin?”

“I’m saying it because I’m –” He stopped himself, biting his lip. Then added with a smirk, “Very into you.”

I rolled my eyes again, biting back a grin. “God, you’re such a menace.”

“Guilty.” He leaned in like he was going to kiss me – but something behind me caught his attention. His gaze flicked over my shoulder, and his face lit up. “Oh, wait. You need to meet someone.”

Before I could ask who, he was already taking my hand and tugging me gently back through the crowd. We weaved around a table where his younger cousins were playing a card game, laughter echoing into the air, until we stopped beside a tall man in his fifties, well-dressed and unmistakably confident, with a glass of wine in hand and a causal ease that said he didn’t need to try to impress anyone – he already did. 

And the second I saw him, it clicked. The library. The Q&A. The pointed question about Celeste’s publisher. 

“Gemma, this is my uncle Adrian,” Hyunjin said, the pride in his voice not even masked. “Adrian, this is Gemma Parker.”

That’s why he looked so familiar. He had the same exact smug smirk as Hyunjin. It must have run in the family.

Adrian’s eyes sharpened just slightly, flicking over my face with a twitch of recognition. “Ah,” he said with a knowing smile. “I believe I saw you yesterday. Literary Q&A, right?”

“You were the one who asked about Celeste’s publisher,” I said before I could stop myself.

“Right,” he chuckled. “Didn’t mean to stir anything, but I’ve worked with enough… Celestes in my life to know when something’s worth poking.”

Hyunjin stifled a laugh beside me. 

“You’re in publishing?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested too fast. 

“I run a boutique literary firm in New York. Manhattan, actually.”

My brows lifted. “I’m from New York.”

“Small world,” he said with a nod. “And you – what do you do?”

I straightened a bit, shifting into a version of myself I always wore in professional spaces. “I’m an author’s assistant right now. But I’m also a writer myself. I’ve been looking to move into editorial or publishing, something that builds people up instead of just… building someone else’s ego.”

Adrian tilted his head, amused. “Well put.”

I smiled nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. 

“You know, there’s actually a role opening up at my firm soon. Not glamorous, but real work. A place to grow. I think you’d fit in quite well, actually.”

I blinked, caught entirely off guard. “Oh – I – wow, that’s… thank you.”

He handed me a sleek card, matte finish, embossed lettering. Of course. “No pressure,” he said casually, then with a grin and a wink, “Or just tell Hyunjin. He knows how to reach me.”

I looked to Hyunjin, wide-eyed, only to find him already watching me with the softest, most unbearably smug smile on his face.

And then he took my hand and squeezed it, once, firm and sure. Like he’d planned this. Like he believed in me so deeply that it made perfect sense to just… hand me a future. Something cracked in my chest. Possibility, hope… a spark of something real and terrifying and wonderful. 

And all I could do was squeeze back. 

The afternoon passed in a kind of haze — drenched in sunlight, soaked in wine, and golden around the edges. Everything felt lighter, dreamier. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe it was the music. Maybe it was Hyunjin looking at me like he was still trying to figure out how I was real. 

We floated through conversations and clinked glasses with strangers who had started to feel like friends, laughter spilling from our lips. At some point, someone brought out trays of delicate pastries and tiny spoons of lemon sorbet that melted before I could ask for more. Someone else played the guitar, and a few couples started dancing barefoot in the grass. 

And then I felt Hyunjin’s fingers close gently around mine again. I turned to him, already smiling. “Dance with me,” he said softly, tugging me just enough to make saying no an impossible option. 

The music was slower now, the sun easing toward the sea, casting everything in that warm, late-afternoon light that makes everything look a little dazed. He pulled me close, one hand finding my waist, the other sliding against my palm, and we moved. Slowly, gently, together. 

The breeze lifted the hem of my dress as I swayed, the scent of jasmine and citrus heavy in the air, his forehead almost brushing mine as we turned under the string lights. It felt impossibly cinematic, the kind of moment I would have written off as fantasy. Too perfect, too fragile… But with him, it didn’t feel like too much. It felt right.

And maybe it was stupid, maybe I was being reckless. But I was my mother’s daughter, and despite my practiced practicality, there was still a part of me that believed in these things, in The Lovers, in connection, right place and right time. So I let myself imagine it. A future. 

I let my heart play out the scenes as we swayed together: New York streets, coffee in the winter. Him waiting for me at the subway with cold fingers and warm eyes. Sharing pages with him at a cafe. Lazing around his art studio while he worked. A future I’d told myself not to want. A future that didn’t seem possible.

But now, as he spun me lightly beneath the ivy, catching me again like it was second nature, I looked up at him with a half-grin. “You really are a dancer,” I said softly, the words slipping out like lyrics to the music. 

His eyes sparkled as he pulled me closer, his voice low and teasing. “You’re only just believing me now?”

“Took me a minute,” I whispered, breath catching. 

He smiled at me, warm and fond, and just like that, everything faded again. It was just him, and just me, and this moment that felt like it could last forever. 

And even if it didn’t, even if reality came crashing back tomorrow… Well. At least I had this. 

We were still swaying, barefoot and tipsy, my head resting against his chest, when Hyunjin leaned in close, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. 

“I’ve… been thinking about moving… to New York,” he whispered, almost shyly. “To actually pursue art school. My uncle says I’d have support there. And now…” His grip on my waist tightened just slightly, before his palm slid over my lower back soothingly. “It doesn’t feel so far-fetched anymore.”

My heart stopped. Oh. Something flickered in my chest – hope, sharp and terrifying. 

I leaned back to look at him, to search his face for hesitation, because was he serious? Was he saying this could be real? The flashes of a future, the gut feelings, the magnetic pull… Was it all leading up to this?

But before I could respond, a chill cut through the warmth. 

Over his shoulder, just past the archway –

Celeste.

Standing in full view. Furious. Motionless. Watching me like a lion that had finally cornered her prey. 

The dream shattered instantly. 

“I –” My voice cracked. I forced a breath. “I have to go.”

“What? Gemma –”

I slipped out of his hold, but his hand clutched mine for one last second – warm, grounding, unwilling to let go until I made him. 

I turned and bolted toward Celeste, already bracing for the storm. “Celeste, I –”

She held up a hand. A sharp, imperious gesture. I stopped, stomach dropping to my shoes. Her eyes flicked from me to the crowd behind me. Her voice was calm, controlled, and cruel.

“So this is what you’ve been doing instead of working.” She gestured vaguely toward the courtyard. “Drinking. Dancing. Seducing.”

I opened my mouth, but she didn’t give me the chance.

“You disappeared from your responsibilities, ignored your schedule, and – oh, yes – stole from me.” Her lips curled into a bitter smile. “Classy, Gemma.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. People were starting to notice. I lowered my voice, already trembling. “I just needed –”

“You needed what? A fantasy? A free ride?” she hissed. Her eyes narrowed as she looked back toward the terrace. Toward Hyunjin. “This is why you’re not focused. Why your work is slipping. You’re too busy playing Cinderella at someone else’s party.”

I felt my throat tighten, the tears rising, but I held them down. Not here. Not in front of her. 

“You honestly think you can write? You think you’re some brilliant talent waiting to be discovered? You’re not, Gemma. You’re nothing.”

Her gaze shifted slightly over my shoulder, something catching her attention. Her lips curled. “He doesn’t even want you.”

I choked on my breath. No.

“You don’t fit in here,” she said, tilting her head, like she was pitying me. “And if you needed proof…”

She nodded, subtle and measured. 

I turned, almost against my will. And there, by the wine table, laughing, radiant in the kind of effortless white dress I’d never be able to pull off, was a woman, exquisite, tall and stunning. 

And beside her, Hyunjin. Laughing, smiling… talking with his mother, who looked more animated than she had all evening, clearly pleased. 

The woman touched his arm. He didn’t flinch. He smiled wider at her. 

My stomach dropped through the floor. It felt like watching the door slam shut on something I never deserved to open in the first place. And Celeste just stood there, smug like she had orchestrated the whole thing. 

I looked away sharply. Desperately. As if not seeing it could somehow unmake the image of Hyunjin laughing with that woman, his mother glowing like she had just watched two puzzle pieces snap perfectly into place. 

But it stayed. Etched behind my eyes. Burning. 

Celeste’s voice, sharp like poison, cut through the rising fog in my brain. “You need to get your fucking priorities straight. There are hundreds of people who would kill to have your job,” she spat. “And maybe it’s time I give one of them a chance.”

Her words hit like slaps, rehearsed to wound and to sting. Something in me crumpled, and yet I forced myself upright. I did what I always did: folded, apologized, survived.

“No,” I said quietly. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I swallowed hard, each word cutting on the way out. “I had a lapse in judgement, and it won’t happen again.”

Celeste studied me, gaze calculating as if she was weighing my worth. Then:

“It better not,” she said calmly. “Next time, I won’t be so lenient.”

And with that, she turned her back on me. Dismissed me. Again.

I stood there defeated, waiting as if something might shift – might save me. But all I had was the sound of clinking glasses, laughter in the distance, and the echo of everything I’d let myself believe for a moment too long. 

My eyes drifted back – I couldn’t stop them – to where Hyunjin still stood. He was still smiling at her, the beautiful woman. The one who made sense. Who belonged. She was poised and composed, the kind of woman who probably had a summer home, a tailored resume, and a standing brunch with his mother. 

And why shouldn’t she be the one? She wasn’t messy. She didn’t forget alarms. She didn’t crumble under the weight of her own dreams. She didn’t have to be rescued.

A hot, miserable tear slipped from my lashes. I blinked and wiped it fast, but the damage was done. 

And that was the moment he chose to look at me. 

Hyunjin’s eyes met mine from across the crowd, across the distance that had suddenly grown impossible to bridge. 

His smile faded, his brow furrowed. 

Worry. Pity. Maybe both. 

But it didn’t matter. Because he made sense, and I didn’t. And I – god, I was so stupid for thinking any of this could be real. 

So I turned, and I walked away, fast and quiet, careful not to let the sob building in my throat crack until I was alone. 

The door to my room slammed behind me. It wasn’t until then that I finally let go. 

I sank to the floor, fists clenched in my dress, tears falling freely now as I whispered, over and over – 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…”

Because I’d let myself believe in a fairytale, and it had ended exactly how it always did.