jay's

》》Isis《《

You know how every once in a while the scientists say that an asteroid or a broken chunk of some far off planet is "dangerously close to Earth" or "is at risk of hitting Earth" or whatever the case is? Well that's how I felt walking into Yeonjun's room.

No one, no one, is supposed to combine my worlds. Nightlife and daylife for me is actually more different than, well, night and day.

"Fine." Yeonjun paused his game and gesture to me. "Heesung this is Isis, Isis, Heesung." He motioned from me to the boy from the strip club. I wanted to curl up and die. I've never met anyone from the club outside of business hours ever since I began working there.

The boy waved at me looking at me for just a few seconds longer before Yeonjun unpaused the game. I turned to quickly make my escape when Yeonjun's phone dinged.

"Wait, Isis, you can't leave now, the rest of the guest are arriving. Wait here while I go get them." He says before leaving to receive his guests from the front door.

Heesung had paused the game also waiting for the other guests to arrive, leaving us is complete silence. He hasn't seemed to notice that is was me at the club so that's a plus.

"Hey Iris." He said suddenly.

"Huh? Oh, it's Isis actually." I said quickly, not really expecting him to start talking to me.

"Oh Isis. You're Viper, aren't you?" Well, I stand corrected.

"No." I replied a beat too late, making my response unbelievable. He smirked. "How did you know?"

"I know your body, and your lips." He said causing me to grow self cautious of myself, even though I have on an oversized tee. "So how long have you been dancing?"

"Look can we not talk about this." I complained.

"Why?" He stood up making his way over to me. I backed away.

"Because I said so!" I snapped hearing voices carry down the hall. "And don't tell Yeonjun." I quickly opened the door to make a dash back to my room.

"All he's been talking about is this girl he noticed a couple days ago but he doesn't know her-" A voice said, stopping as soon as I opened the door, coming face to face with Jake.

"Misty?"

My eyes widened as I took a step back. Some luck I have...

Another head peeked around his and I locked eyes with Sunoo. A pained expression crossed his face because we still haven't talked about that night. He gently pushed his friend to the side, stepping closer to me.

"Angel can we talk?" My hand flew to my mouth as I stepped back a couple more steps accidentally bumping into Heesung.

"Dang boss you look like you've seen a ghost." I locked eyes with JP just past the door frame and couldn't take it anymore.

I have to get out of this situation fast! I thought of what to do but could only come up with one good idea.

Pass out. Fake pass out of course, because I can't pass out on queue but regardless.

I dropped all of my weight to the ground, closing my eyes and to my surprise, Heesung caught me before I hit the ground.

"Isis!"

"Misty!"

"Viper!"

"Angel!"

The overlap of different names made me cringe internally. Heesung carried me over to Yeonjun's bed and placed me there while Yeonjun called my dad to see what he should do.

"Yeah, she just passed out. I don't know, I don't think so. She looks like she's been eating good."

This boy.

"Okay guys. Her dad said that this has happened before because she isn't eating enough, so um, Jungwon and Sunghoon come with me to get something to eat." I hear some scuffling but decided to keep up my act until I heard the front door close.

"He's gone" An annoyed JP said. My eyes shot open.

"How the hell do you all know each other?" I quickly sat up.

"You guys know each other?" Jake asked. I glance around the room.

"That's the girl I was talking about...from-"

"-The rave. Yeah." I finished his sentence smiling. Niki was the DJ at the Big Hits so I haven't really gotten a chance to talk to him one-on-one. He seemed really cute and shy when he spoke.

Girl, now's not the time.

"How do you know her Jake?" All eyes went to him.

"She's Misty. From the race track." He explained.

"Misty?!" The other guys asked in confusion.

"Bossed by a girl named Misty." JP scoffed. I rolled my eyes putting the interrogation aside and rose to my feet. Why is he being like this?

"Look, I don't know who shat in your cereal, but it wasn't me. So calm the attitude." I stood face to face with him.

"No can do sweetheart. Especially now that I know you're younger than me, I can't even respect you as a boss." I rolled my eyes.

"Look, I may be younger than you, but you really have some nerve speaking on respect. Not after you came to me trying to gain access into my organization. So if you need to respect anyone it should be me. Piss me off and see if you'll ever fight in this city again." I said through gritted teeth, then returned to sit on the bed.

"Well that was hot" Jake mumbled under his breath.

"Boss?" Heesung asked, his eyes bouncing between us.

"She's over the Ring."

"The Ring?!" They all asked shocked.

"Oh my gosh, let's just get this over with..." I sighed annoyed.

"Your boss from the Ring." I motioned to JP.

"Viper from the Clubhouse." Motioning to Heesung.

"Angel." I said to Sunoo who has been unusually quiet.

"Mystery girl from the Big Hits." To Niki.

"And Misty."

"That's how you all know me, but how do you all know each other?" I questioned.

"We're Enhypen." I felt my blood run cold. Ain't no way.

"You're red?!" They just nodded. I knew from the races that Jake was a part of Enhypen but I had no clue about the rest of them.

I laid backwards on the bed, staring at the ceiling. How did this happen to me? I went years without my identities clashing so why now? Why them?

"What's your real name?" Niki said breaking a moment of silence. I sat up looking at Heesung. He knew, not that I wanted him to.

"Look guys, my identities keep me safe. Safe from angry, retaliating fight losers and horny club goers. So I would prefer if you guys don't question about my real name." They looked conflicted; like they understood why I'd want to conceal my real identity but their curiosity was getting the best of them.

"Her name's Isis, I heard Yeonjun say it when she fell." Sunoo said looking to the opposite side of the room to avoid eye contact.

"Sunny!" I exclaimed. I literally just explained that I wanted to keep it private.

"What? And don't call me that." He said looking back at me. "Do you have anything else you've been lying about?"

Out of the years that I've known Sunoo, he's never treated me this cold before. Of course I knew he could be cold–he was a drug dealer after all– but he was usually caring and sometimes just a little sweet. And I don't like this side one bit.

My anger with how he was acting is distracting me from how hurt I am. So instead of snapping at him or responding in a way I know I'd regret later, I took a deep shaky breath and got up walking out the door, returning to my room.

》》Sunoo《《

I shouldn't have said that. I knew it the second it came out my mouth and the look on her face really confirmed it.

I vowed to myself when she ran out my office crying that I would never hurt her again. So why is it that's all I find myself doing?

Her face when she walked out reminded me of that night and it tugged on my heartstrings making me regret it all.

When the door slammed, my head sunk into my hands in remorse.

"Well, that was a shock wasn't it?" Heesung said.

"I'll say." Niki agreed. We all sat there thinking for a few minutes. "So what should we do?" He asked.

"About what?" Jay sat on the now vacated bed.

"About all of us liking the same girl." Jake reminded him.

"I don't like her." Jay said. I just rolled my eyes.

"Oh please Jay! You haven't stopped complimenting her looks since you met her." I reminded him of his countless rants.

"Yeah? Well what about you? At least she's not just using me for an occasional high." I stood up angerly making my way to him.

"The fuck did you say?"

"Guys please!" Heesung stood between us before I could get to Jay. "Most of us like her. But have to remember that we met her while she was doing her job or associating as someone else. We don't know the real Isis."

Some of the others nodded at this, taking in his words, but not me. Regardless of what I called her, I knew Angel. She was one of my favorite parts of going to work every night.

"I'm going to the bathroom." I said quietly, making my way out the room. Instead of going to the bathroom that was across the hall, I turned right and lightly knocked on another bedroom door.

"Yes?!" A shocked voice called out followed by the rattle of a pill bottle and the slam of a drawer. I opened the door in curiosity. Inside she stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Oh, Sun- Sorry I mean, Mr. Kim." My heart clenched thinking back to the first time Misty called me by my real name.

Hi Sunoo.

I should have held her so tight and kissed her like my life depended on it. I shook the memory away.

"Angel?" I called out quietly. She looked up from the floor. I wasn't expecting her to respond to Angel but it somehow surprised me that she did. "Can I still call you that?"

She nodded rapidly.

"Please do." She said almost desperately. That's when I realized that even though these different names aren't her actual name, it still held a piece of her identity. A piece of her that she doesn't want forgotten.

I walked over to her and led her to sit on the bed, taking a seat next to her.

"Sorry." She looked up from her lap. "For treating you like that back there. I was just in shock. You can still call me Sunny, if you want."

She nodded, but remained silent. I wanted to say more but there was still unresolved tension in the air from the last time we met.

"This is so crazy." I voiced. She scoffed.

"Tell me about it." The girl I knew to be so headstrong and sassy, suddenly looked so small and vulnerable. "This never should have happened."

She rose to her feet, pushing herself to her feet, and began pacing slightly around the room.

"I should have been more careful about meeting people and more cautious of who I hung around. If I had none of this would have happened. Meeting Niki, JP and Heesung could have been avoided if I would have treated my nightlife like a job and not a fucking social hour."

I looked at her while she ranted. The girl that I have grown to admire and care for so much, one of the most stunning girls I've come across, looked disappointed in herself, as if our discovery of her identity is a result of her negligence. She was spiraling down a mental sinkhole of guilt that I had no way of stopping.

》》Isis《《

I should have told Little Dog that I wasn't coming to see the new fighter and left the recruiting up to his judgment.

I should have denied Heesung his "dance" and went straight to the race after work.

I should have talked it out with Sunny instead of avoiding him and going to the Big Hits, fraternizing with Niki.

I've known Sunny for so long, there was no way to avoid becoming associated with him. Plus, with the races, I see Jake nearly as often as I see Sunoo, if not more.

Why did they all have to be friends with Yeonjun?

"Angel?" I could hear Sunny trying to get my attention but I was too deep into my thoughts to notice.

Wait. If Yeonjun is friends with them, isn't it a little coincidental that he's friends with all the Enhypen members?

What if he already knows about them?

What if he already knows about me?

Everything I built over the last few years may be crumbling before my eyes and there's nothing I can do.

"Baby!" Sunoo's voice cut through my loud thoughts, replacing them with silence. I found him a couple steps in front of me, caressing the side of my head and searching my eyes with his worried ones.

Only then did I notice how shallow my breaths were and the tears that had welled up, blurring my vision.

Wait, what did he just call me?

Before my thoughts had time to process, Sunoo pulled me into a hug, calming me down. My heart fluttered at his actions.

"You called me baby." I thought aloud in a small whisper but our close proximity made it impossible to whisper. My heartbeat increased at the thought of him calling me baby and even more so at our closeness at the moment.

"I...did." He said pulling back, looking surprised and also a little nervous that he'd utter those words.

"Why?" I quickly wiped my eyes trying to rid myself of the weakening tears that fell to my cheeks.

"I don't know it just slipped out. Sorry."

Sorry. He said sorry.

Well that's not the response I wanted.

"Oh. Um, well-" I couldn't find the words to say so I just nodded, stepping back from the  hug.

A knock was heard at the door.

"Hey." JP peeked his head in. "Yeonjun just pulled up in the driveway. I don't know if you want to come back to the room or..."

"Yeah, I'll come now." I walked to the door sparing Sunoo one last glance.

Maybe he just doesn't like me like that.

I've decided to avoid the guys at all cost. I can't do anything about them knowing my identity but I figured that if I have minimal interactions with them there would be no reason for them to acknowledge my presence in the first place.

Heesung makes it a point to be at the Clubhouse everyday. He tips the biggest and is front and center for every dance but I decline every private dance he requests.

Whenever Jake races, I ask Gabby to start the race. I still congratulate the winner and do the payouts of the prizes but it's a lot less personal than it was before.

Avoiding Niki and JP was the easiest as I rarely say JP and only had a few encounters with Niki, since he stayed behind the turntable most of the night.

Sunoo, on the other hand, was the most difficult. I'm the closest to him and have known him the longest. Plus, I can't deny that my little crush that I've had for a little over two years is steadily growing.

Resisting the strong urge to show up at Belift was torture. But not going has made me realize that I haven't been fully sober in at least a year. Whether it was drugs or alcohol, I was always on something.

It's a little embarrassing really.

All the time where I'd sit with Sunoo during my "observation time" laughing and talking about the junkies that fiend over drugs, coming into the lounge everyday.

No wonder Sunoo doesn't like me back. I'm just like them.

"Alright bye dad! Bye Yeonjun!" I closed the door, climbing onto my bike. Today was one of the rare days when my dad didn't have to work. We had planned to hang out and watch movies all night but Gabbie called me and asked me to cover her race today.

I started my engine and drove towards the track in silence allowing my thoughts to run quiet. While approaching a red light, my phone began to ring. I fished it from my pocket and answered it, noticing it was an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Isis, it's Jungwon!" An urgent voice answered. "Are you going to the race tonight?"

"Jungwon? Yeah. How did you get my number?"

"That's not that important right now! Listen, you need....race tonight."

"You're breaking up."

"Just...they're...after...Shit...connection...my way...Don't start!" Then the line went silent. My face held a confused look  as I placed my phone back into my pocket and the light turned green.

Well that was weird.

I thought about the call until I arrived later at the track. When I parked my bike I grabbed a neon green bandana and a black bandana from beneath the seat. Trudging along I want over to the check in to see all of the racers lined up.

Gabby couldn't have chosen a better day to call in because today was one of the bracket stages leading up to the largest racing event called the Grand Spin. Meaning that today there's supposed to be not one but four races taking place. One of them being SKZ v.s. Enhypen....Yay me!

The first race, Dream (neon green) versus Xikers (black) ended in an unexpected result of black's win by .8 seconds. Jeno threw a fit but he usually did whenever he lost anyways.

The next race was the dreaded race.

Jake pulled up to the start line followed by Jisung, SKZ's usual racer. I slowly mad my way between the cars, crouching down to their eye level and giving them the usual spiel.

"Misty." Jake said obviously surprised to see me here to start the race. I gave him a tight-lipped smile, crossing the start line to start the race.

I raised the bandanas above and dropped them swiftly to my sides, feeling the cars zip past.

"Misty!" I heard a loud voice over the roar of engines. I looked to find the owner of the voice, Jungwon, frantically waving his arms to me. Behind him was Sunoo, JP and Sunghoon also with concerned looks on their faces. This is rare, usually only Jake comes to races. "Misty! Come-"

Gunshots rang out causing chaos to pursue. I let out a scream quickly ducking to the ground. Looking over my shoulder, I see that the shots came from Jisung's car, obviously aiming for Jake's.

I stood up running over to both of the cars that now sat stagnant in the middle of their respective lanes.

"What the hell Jisung!" I yell approaching the car. "This is a grey zone you know that! You can't pull that shit here!" Jisung came out of his car still holding the gun with a smirk on his lips; I just give him a blank look.

"Out of the way princess, this is between us." The other SKZ and Enhypen members joined us on the track by now.

"Watch out Angel." Sunoo grabbed me and pushed me behind him as they came over and assessed the situation.

"So you know them, know them?" He asked directing his attention to me. Sunoo gripped onto me tighter, a fire lighting in his gaze.

"Stop it. You all look stupid for coming out here and causing a scene over a boundary." Jungwon said unimpressed.

"You know that it was ours we settled this months ago. You can't just reclaim it!" Chan, their leader argued.

"Pussy." JP scoffed.

"What did you just call me?" Hyunjin, the hot head of the group asked getting closer to him.

"You heard me. How did you shoot, with an open shot and not hit him? Either you're a bitch talking out of your ass or a pussy that can't shoot. Let's settle this like men shall we."

To my shock, the SKZ members–most likely due to their hurt pride– put their guns down and squared up with them. But the problem that arose now was that there was 8 of them and 5 Enhypen members. Not exactly a fair fight if you'd ask me.

"Last chance to back out, kids." JP provoked.

"Yeah, no chance."

Then all hell broke loose. Fists swinging, legs kicking, hair pulling, you name it. I had intended on joining in to help Enhypen seeing that they were the weaker link here but I couldn't even get a swing in before someone grabbed me from behind.

"What the fuck?! Let me go!" I tossed and turned in their arms trying to free myself. Shoving my arm back, I hit them in the side with my elbow causing them to drop me. I swiveled around to find Minho clutching his torso.

"Wanna go pretty girl?"

"Don't call me that." He stepped to me swinging first but I countered his every attack. I managed a couple of hits but other than that it was a game of who's blocks would fail them first. I swung my leg under his making him fall. Just as I was about to use him being down to my advantage, I felt someone push something into my side, volts of electricity sending shockwaves through my body.

Now tasing someone during a fist fight is definitely a pussy move.

My body tensed at the feeling and I screamed falling to the ground. The pain was the most intense feeling I've ever experienced in my life.

"Misty!" Jake called out, witnessing the scene from his own fight.

Another pair of arms, who I assumed was Seungmin, grabbed me and carried me to a car. He hopped into the driver's seat starting the engine and speeding off.

"Fuck you." I said weakly before blacking out. Well, so much for keeping the boys at an arms length.

"Wakey wakey." A deep voice greeted me as I regained consciousness. The first thing I noticed was that, for some reason, my head hurt really bad.

The low buzzing of fluorescent lights was quiet but still present  as if an afterthought in the back of your head. I cringed at their brightness, blinking to adjust to them quicker.

"There she is, Ms. Misty herself." All of the SKZ boys were scattered around the room: some were standing propped against the wall while others sat in chairs. The lighting reminded me of a hospital, but the decor was similar to a old bedroom set that would be found at someone's grandparent's house. The extremely obvious 2-way mirror that lines the wall to the left of my bed was giving police interrogation room. I wasn't bound in ropes or handcuffs either, so maybe they don't intend on keeping me here very long.

"Why does my head hurt?" I cringed bringing my hand to my temple.

"Sorry." Seungmin smiled with insincerity. "I may have bumped your head a the little on the doorway. Oops!" I just rolled my eyes.

"Okay so what am I doing here? You know that I'm not affiliated with the gang life." I looked not impressed, my eyes grazing over all eight of the members.

"You may not be affiliated with the gang life, but the gang life sure as hell is affiliated with you." Bang Chan stood from his seat coming over to the bed where I sat.

"Meaning?" I asked not exactly knowing where he was going with this.

"You don't know? Nearly every gang in the city has it out for you." I scoffed.

"Yeah right. For what? All I do is start races."

"Different people have different reasons." Jisung answered. "Some accuse you of rigging the races, some say that they've seen you calling shots at the Ring and you're rigging there too. Usually it's territorial, your rival gang wants something so you want it to make sure they don't obtain it."

"Right." I said not allowing my face to show any emotions. "And your reason?"

"What's your relationship with Enhypen?" Chan asked ignoring my question.

"Business. Same as you guys."

"Well the fact that they tried to contact you when they heard about our little plan raised a few flags. But seeing their reactions as I waved that gun at you was all the confirmation that we needed." Jisung sat with a smug smirk on his face.

"Not to mention that Enhypen, TXT, and Bangtan have you on their list. So you must be pretty valuable." Minho said twiddling a small knife in his hands.

"What list?" I crossed my arms, growing more anxious by the minute, not that I can let them see that.

"Their no-kill list. Everyone on it is off limits, disobeying the list results in an automatic gang war." They explained.

"That literally makes no sense. I barely know Enhypen and I don't know any Bangtan or TXT members."

"That's for us to find out, little lady." Changbin ruffled my hair as they all gathered themselves to leave.

"Wait! What does this all have to do with me?"

"Enhypen took something that we cared about, and now we did the same to them." Chan said before walking out the door.

"Welcome to our world!" Minho was the last one to leave. He brandished a psychotic looking smile before slamming the door.

What did I just get myself into?

|later.|

"Yo!" I yelled throwing a random bouncy ball I'd found in the room against the 2-way mirror. "I've been in here for like 3 hours. I gotta get home before sunrise or my roommate's gonna kill me." It bounced from the mirror to the floor back to my hands. I didn't exactly want them to know that I live with my family, potentially putting them at risk.

"Ugh! I'm hungry guys! Can someone bring me some McDonalds?" I continued bouncing the ball a number of times, still bored out of my mind. My head has started to hurt even more due to my constant yelling."I just want a number 7, pleasee."

"Do you all have a Tylenol or something? My head is bangin' right now." I'm sure that they had someone monitoring me, so the fact that no one was answering me was super frustrating. I threw down the ball allowing it to roll into the corner of the room.

Standing up on my bed, I began to jump. I tried to touch the ceiling but they were extremely high for some reason. All the jumping was making me light-headed, so I collapsed on the bed in a starfish position. As I attempted to catch my breath, I went quiet for about 5 minutes.

I have to get out of here.

The pounding on my head intensifies as I crouch into a fetal position, grabbing my head once again.

"Guys," I said in a strained voice. There is definitely something wrong. "I'm serious. I don't feel good." I slowly went over to the mirror pounding on it, each impact growing less and less intense.

"Misty!" The door sung open and someone caught me before I hit the ground and passed out, darkness consuming the ultra bright lights.

》》Heesung《《

It's 3:00 am. She's been gone for 5 hours.

Jungwon's been typing away at his computer since we got back to base. He said that the system had been acting up since he called Isis earlier. I continued pacing around the living room.

They could've done anything to her at this point. Everyone knows that SKZ is the most psychotic out of all the gangs. But I already swore to myself that if they lay a finger on her, I'll kill them.

Suddenly, the front door slams open and in storms a frustrated looking Sunoo.

"Did you guys find her?" He asked exasperated. We shake our heads.

"Jungwon's been trying since we got back, I think they bugged our system." Jake answered. "What about you? No luck?"

When Seungmin's car sped off with Isis, Sunoo hopped into Jake's car tailing them. He ended up losing them weaving in and out of traffic on the highway.

"No, I lost them." He looked as if he suddenly remembered something. "But I tagged them."

"You tagged them?!" He nodded, quickly rushing over to the computer. He typed in  the number of the tag and a red dot showed up on the map.

We got them.

"Text me the coordinates, now!" He grabbed the keys rushing back out the door.

"Wait! I'm coming with you." I called after him.

"We'll catch up." The other guys nodded for us to leave first.

By the time I met Sunoo at the car the car it was already running. I quickly buckle up as the coordinates came through a text from Jungwon. Navigating his phone with his right hand and steering with his left, he got the navigation going in less than ten seconds. Sunoo floored it looking a bit more relieved that we had an idea of where they were.

"You good Sunoo?" He tapped his thumb on the steering wheel a few times.

"I don't know. I'll be good when I know for sure that Isis is safe." His eyes burned with determination as he stared forward out the windshield.

"You really care about her don't you?" I asked already knowing the answer. Sunoo has always been very vocal about his attraction to Angel from the first time he met her a few years ago, up until a few days before we found out that Angel, Misty, Viper, and Niki's mystery girl were all Isis.

"Look, I don't know, my head's kind of clouded right now. I just know that she better be safe, she needs to be safe. For my sake and theirs." His voice went dark at the end.

I decided to stop pressing the issue and turned to look out the window because just as Sunoo said: if she's hurt in any way, they're gonna have a problem. And with 2 minutes left until we arrive, I'm starting to get anxious.

》》Isis《《

"You gave her a concussion?!" I heard someone yelling but my mind couldn't piece together who it was. A series of sounds that sounded like hits ensured.

My eyelids feel extremely heavy when I attempted to open them; my body likewise felt as if it was made of lead. Almost like I was just an inhabitant in my own body.

"I'm sorry! I didn't do it on purpose. Plus she was up talking before so I thought that maybe she just bumped her head."

I slowly started to remember the events over the past hours. They still haven't gotten me?

I mustered up my energy to open my eyes to find myself in another room that now resembled a hospital, but the similar layout to the other room told me otherwise.

"Guys!" Minho whispered to the rest, realizing that I was awake. I slowly sat up, at least the lights in this room aren't as bright as the other room.

"I'm so glad you're up. How are you feel—?" Chan's question was cut short as I felt the sudden urge to throw up. I looked around urgently for a trash can but couldn't find one, so I just leaned over the side of the bed. However, Jisung slid a small trash bin over just in time to save me from embarrassment.

I only threw up a little since I've barely eaten anything and dry heaved a few more times, causing my head to hurt once again and making me feel lightheaded. When I finished, I sat back with a sigh.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Chan asked. I shook my head.

"I usually don't eat less than 3 hours before a race; I woke up an hour before the race started so I didn't really get the chance to eat anything." I explained. "Can I get some food now?" My voice sounded hoarse and my body felt weak; I hated it.

There was only Chan, Jisung, Minho, and Seungmin in the room currently. They all glanced at each other and as if communicating telepathically, Minho and Jisung left out the room.

"They're gonna get you something that's light on the stomach." Chan said almost gently.

Is he pitying me right now? Well, he literally wouldn't have to pity me if he'd let me go.

"So Misty, due to your sudden symptoms, Seungmin suspected that you may have a concussion. He'll have to run a few tests to verify so bear with him. In the meantime, I'll get Jisung to bring you something to eat."

Chan left the room leaving just me and Seungmin in silence. He asked me to do a bunch of things like walk in a straight line, answer math equations and balance on one foot. I did fine with the first two but for the life of me I couldn't balance on one leg.

"What other symptoms do you have?" He asked after the last test.

"I'm lightheaded with a small headache –nowhere near as bad as earlier– also nausea and, as you saw before: vomiting." He just nodded.

"All the symptoms are pointing to a concussion so I'll keep you down here for periodic observations." Down here?? I nodded and he headed for the door. With his hand on the handle, he turned back to me.

"I'm really sorry Misty. I really didn't mean to give you a concussion or hurt you in any way. That was never our intentions. Plue you've always been nothing but nice and respectful to all of our racers. Sorry it had to be you." He paused. "Nothing personal, that's just how the chips fell."

With that he left the room and I sat thinking about his words. Seungmin was right. SKZ and I—even Enhypen—were all victims to the nightlife. Good people who've fallen into the wrong time and place.

》》Sunoo《《

"They're just talking out of their asses. They won't do shit. We saw that at the track." Jay tried to reassure me as he adjusted his headset. The other guys decided that we should me up before we storm in without a plan.

"Yeah, I'm with Jay." Jake agreed. "I've seen them interact with Misty at the races. Everyone at the races love her, they wouldn't hurt her to get under our skin."

"I don't know. Let's not put it past them. We know how psychotic they can get ." Jungwon reminded.

"Okay so the plan." I reiterated, lowkey annoyed.

"Right! So I airdropped the layout of the building. Heesung, Jake and I will start from the top floor. There's a hatch on the roof, probably a fire escape but it can't be locked from the inside; easier to pick." Jungwon began laying down the plan.

"Everyone else through the front door. The stairs are through the first hallway on your right." He nodded in acknowledgment. "Niki and Sunghoon go upstairs, Jay and Sunoo downstairs. Got it?"

"Got it." Jungwon looked at me.

"We'll find her." He said trying to reassure me. I nodded. I don't think I'll be at ease until I see for myself that she's okay.

"Alright guys. Break." 

We waited for Heesung, Jake and Jungwon to get into position before we entered.

"Alright, the plan is a go." Without wasting a single second, I raced to the front door breaking it in on the first try. It's amazing what you can do when your body is pumping with adrenaline. The hallway was to our right just as Jungwon said.

I raced down the stairs as chaos ensued throughout the rest of the house. I could hear footsteps storming about, most likely startled by the sudden sound of the front door bursting open. I quickly bounded down the stairs, glancing left then right before ultimately deciding to go left.

I'll find you Angel. I swear on my life.

》》Isis《《

A small knock sounded at the door. Jisung peeked his head in before entering with a bowl of piping hot soup on a tray.

"I don't know if you'll like it but it's cheddar broccoli and it's all we had." He said grabbing a chair and pulling it to my bedside, all while balancing the platter on his left arm.

"That's fine." I responded reaching for the tray. He pulled it back from my reach.

"Hey, hey, it's hot. You haven't been in our possession more than twelve hours and Seungmin already gave you a concussion. I don't plan on getting blamed for spilling scalding hot soup on you." I laughed slightly.

"In our possession is a crazy statement." I said. "Well, since I can't eat. At least we can talk, right?" He nodded. We both went silent thinking of things to talk about. I decided to hatcha random plot in my head.

"Where did you hide the money?" I asked suddenly. He jumped to his feet, playing along.

"Where you'll never find it!" It went quiet as I thought of a way to continue the plot.

"It's in that drawer isn't it?" I asked pointing to a drawer that most likely just held medical supplies. We glanced at each other before cracking up. We were laughing so hard that it took us a few minutes to calm down.

"Sorry about earlier." He said rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Which part? Brandishing a gun in my face or kidnapping me and taking me in to the dark side?" I asked jokingly.

"All of it really. You seem to be taking this whole getting kidnaped thing pretty well."

"I get where you're coming from, to an extent at least. We're all victims of the night, I guess." I said shrugging.

"And what are you, the queen of the night?" He said snickering.

"I mean, I dabble in nightlife."

"What kind of nightlife?"

"Whatever the fuck I want." I snorted.

"Racing is just the tip of the nightlife iceberg." He said shaking his head.

"You have no idea." I mumbled under my breath. "Can I get my soup now?" I whined. A loud bump was heard upstairs, followed by a series of rumbling footsteps.

"I swear if they broke something I'm gonna kill them." He laughed grabbing the tray. "Let me check if it's cooled." He blew the soup stirring it.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm kind of shocked that you're in a gang. Like I already knew you were in a gang, but I don't know, seeing you here makes it real I guess."

"What are you trying to say?" He asked leaning closer to me. I looked around the room avoiding his strong gaze.

"I don't know, you've always been so playful, like a kid. But earlier you were kind of...cool. I don't know! I think it's my concussion talking. Or my hunger because you still haven't given me my foo—"

I looked back at Jisung noticing that he was a lot closer that he was before. It may have been my imagination but he seemed to be leaning in closer and closer.

"It sounds like you know exactly what you are trying to say." His voice dropped just above a whisper as he glanced at my lips. I gently place my hand on his chest, halting his movement.

"Jisung. I'm just leverage to get back at Enhypen. I'm sure there's some rule against falling in love with a hostage." I smirked. He placed his hand on top of mine still resting on his chest.

"Does it look like I follow rules?" He asked, closing the space between us. He talks a big game but his kiss is inexperienced. Definitely his first kiss, or one of the firsts. I pull back from the hasty kiss and look into his eyes, holding longing and desire.

"What's wrong? Do you want me to stop?" I shook my head, reconnecting our lips. My hand snaked from his chest to his neck pulling him closer. If I'm gonna be held captive here might as well have some fun. Jisung's hands went to either side of my hips grasping them slightly, pulling our bodies closer together.

Suddenly, a scolding hot liquid brought me back to my senses. He called it... The entire bowl of soup turned bottoms up on my thigh causing me to let out a scream, jumping back from Jisung.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry. I got carried away." He pulled the drawer next to him out then closed it leaning over me to check the drawer on the other side of the bed. I looked at his face when he leaned in front of me. His face held nervousness, behind the subtle blush that graced his cheeks. Jisung grabbed some towels from the drawer.

"It's okay Jisung. I'm okay." I said to reassure him. A comfortable silence washed over us as he sighed, taking his hand to caress the side of my face.

Misty, I-" He stopped wincing suddenly. He looked down and I followed his eyes to his side where I could see red soaking through his shirt. Upon further inspection I realized that it was blood. He practically fell on top of me due to our position, bleeding through to my clothes as well.

"Oh my gosh Jisung!" As he fell, I saw JP standing behind him holding a blood-soaked knife.

"Come on we have to go!" He urged. I looked back at Jisung's face as he winced in excruciating pain. I couldn't bring myself to move though. If we just leave him here he could die or something.

"Hey!" JP grabbed ahold of my shoulders shaking me. "We have to leave right now." My glance at him was delayed as I couldn't bring myself to look away from Jisung. 

"I- I can't just..." My mind couldn't even formulate sentences at this point and my hands began to shake.

A loud ring of gunfire rang from upstairs causing me to jump. My breathing became labored as there were too many things happening at once. Sensory overload. And to make matters worse my head still hurts and I'm still hungry.

"You found her thank God!" Sunoo said appearing in the doorway. "We gotta go things are getting ugly upstairs and I don't know how much longer we can hold out."

"Sunoo..." My voice wavered, finally catching his attention. He quickly took a few steps towards me.

"Angel, what's wrong?" Before I could answer he looked around at the abundance of blood on both Jisung and I. "Are you okay?"

"It's not my blood." I responded quietly. His eyes softened at the news that it wasn't my blood.  "Sunoo we have to do something we can't just leave him here. We could take him until he gets better the bring him back or trade him or-"

"Misty! I know how you feel but if we take him, it'll look like an eye for an eye. SKZ are more than capable to take care of their own, but right now we have to go. Right now!"

I slowly regained awareness of my body as Sunoo helped drag me out out of the bed to my feet. Only then did I realize just how much blood was on me. I gasped as it had nearly colored my entire stomach and thigh red. JP led the way, covering us by shooting at wherever the shots were coming from. Sunoo held me tightly as I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to support my own weight without his help. Soon enough I was seated in the backseat of a car, silently on my way to God knows where.

"Yeah we have her pull a retreat and I'll meet you guys back at base. Stay safe." JP said over a small earpiece. I felt Sunoo glancing at me through the mirror every one in a while while he drove, but I didn't meet his eyes. My mind was thinking about the events that occurred.

Maybe I ventured too far into the nightlife. Into Enhypen's lives. Definitely too far into the gang life; something that I never wished to be a part of, and yet  I'm involved enough to be kidnapped for leverage.

On the drive back, seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. After a while Sunoo pulled into a long, winding, driveway that led through some wooded area. After a while an enormous mansion made mostly of glass came into view through a clearance in the trees. JP was the first one out of the car when it stopped. Sunoo, on the other hand, stayed around to help me.

After assuring him many times that I was fine, he walked ahead to catch up with JP. Just as soon as they reached the steps to the house and looked back at me, black dots appeared in my vision and I got a sudden head rush, getting lightheaded. I grabbed my head and tried to steady myself.

"Ugh." I groaned, collapsing to the ground for the second time tonight, except this time Heesung wasn't there to catch my fall. The ground welcomed me with a comical, cartoon-ish thud.

"Isis!"

I'm still hungry as hell.

"Isis!" I heard a voice calling to me. "Isis, it's me." 

I opened my eyes and met Jisung's. I jumped up wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Jisung! I'm so happy you're okay!" He slowly began to pat my back.

"I'm okay? Why wouldn't I be? Did you have a bad dream?" He pulled back looking somewhat concerned. I nodded.

"I don't really want to talk about it." I responded pulling away and taking in my surroundings. I was back in the room where I first woke up in. When did I get back in here?

"Why was it about falling into shark infested waters because same." Jisung asked lighting the mood. I shook my head, stifling a laugh.

"Oh well it must have been about being tiny, sitting on a piece of bread, when a giant butter knife comes trying to spread peanut butter on you." He said lowkey sounding serious. I burst out laughing at his randomness.

"No! Jisung, what?!" I crack up.

"Give me one last guess. Third time's the charm right?" He thinks for a bit, sobering up from all of the laughter. "It was about Enhypen coming to rescue you and accidentally shooting you, huh? Did I guess it right Isis?" I looked at his once playful demeanor as it turned cold.

"No I wasn't the one who got shot." It was extremely off-putting how close he was to guessing what actually happened. I began to feel nervous and restless. "And how do you know my real name?" I recalled that he also called me 'Isis' to wake me up.

"You're right. You weren't the one who got shot." He ignored my question, leaning down to my  ear. "But you should have been."

Bang!

I woke up with a gasp, panting for air. I looked around at my upper body for a gun shot wound that I knew wouldn't be there to begin with. My hands shook as I tried to calm myself down, rubbing them against my face before ultimately giving up on my calming tactics and climbing out of bed. I found myself in yet another room that didn't belong to me.

When I cracked the door I walked down the hallway to the only light that seemed to illuminate this dark house. I found that the light was actually the kitchen, where Jungwon sat with a glass of some light brown liquid. I stepped into the light, emerging from the darkness of the hallway.

"Oh, you're up?" He asked noticing me.

"Yeah." I replied awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Jungwon's phone conversation I had was the only real conversation that I had with him. Out of all the Enhypen members, I'm the least close with him.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Super hungry and frustrated." He looks questioningly at me. "Cause I wouldn't be hungry or keep passing out if I wouldn't have been kidnapped." I walked slowly over to the bar at the island and took a seat next to Jungwon.

"Wait, you passed out before, why? Did they do something to you?" Jungwon's face held a calm and controlled expression but his voice meant business.

"Well apparently, Seungmin accidentally banged my head into a doorway and I am most likely concussed." I did fake jazz hands trying to lighten the mood.

"How many times have you passed out?" His tone became even more urgent.

"Oh, just twice." I reassured him. "If it happens one more time, then there's a problem." He nodded taking in the information.

"Ramen?" He asked sliding a hot bowl of ramen that sat in front of him over to me. "I made it but I'm not really in the mood anymore." I nodded quickly grabbing the chopsticks from him and digging in.

"Be careful! It's ho-" He stopped noticing that the heat wasn't bothering me, as I went in for my next scoop, shoveling in yet another cheekful. I'm sure by now I look like a chipmunk but I don't really care since I'm hungry. He chuckled lightly under his breath watching me eat.

"What? Did they not feed you?" He joked.

"Yeah." I said with my mouth full, covering my mouth as if that made it better. I continued chewing my food before swallowing it. "Hey I have a question." I sat the chopsticks down turning my body to face Jungwon. He nodded, for me to continue.

"Do you think Jisung will be okay?" Jungwon looked somewhat shocked that I'd asked that question but the curiosity was killing me. "He was losing a lot of blood and no one else was nearby him when we left. It was in his side, or like his back, I couldn't really tell in the moment. Who knows it could have been in his kidney, or his—"

"Have this been bothering you long?" Jungwon asked, ceasing my unconscious rant. I snapped out of my daze and nodded to his question.

"None of them did anything wrong. I mean, in theory, the whole kidnapping thing was wrong but they never hurt me. Seungmin apologized so much for hitting my head and before you guys came Jisung was going to feed me. Nothing adherently bad and yet, JP just—" I thought about the look on his face when Jisung fell. So relaxed and almost satisfied with what he did. "Jisung was in so much pain. And he just had no remorse."

"Jay was just trying to help. I'm sure he never meant for this to happen."

"No, I saw his face. He was—" I trailed off. "Nevermind, I don't really want to talk about this anymore. Why are you up?" I changed the subject.

"Well you were asleep in my bed so I was just about to go fall asleep on the couch." He motioned towards the couch in the living room, where a blanket and pillow was set up.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry. Go sleep in your bed, I'll sleep on the couch." I quickly responded.

"No, it's oka-"

"I'm not asking, not taking 'no' for an answer, so..." I finished off the conversation with that single statement. He smiled at me.

"Yes ma'am." He said. "You know, you're different that how I thought you were."

"What do you mean?"

"Well most girls involved in the night life are genuinely some of the worst people you'll ever meet. Plus with you being so deeply entangled in it I was really expecting the worst out of you, no offense." He explained.

"Thanks?" I asked not knowing weather to take it as a compliment yet.

"You're welcome. It was a compliment by the way." We chuckled in sync.

"The way that the guys described you, each account was different; like they were talking about 5 different girls. You could imagine my hesitance when I discovered you were the same girl."

"No imagine my shock when you all suddenly showed up at my house affiliated with my step brother." I poked.

"You got me there." He surrendered. "Well I'm gonna hit the sack. I'll see you in the morning." Jungwon announced when I finished the noodles. 

"Good night!" I responded back beginning to wash out the bowl.

When I finished, I made my way over to the large sectional in the living room where Jungwon was planning on sleeping. The blankets and pillows were already set up so I just climbed in and quickly drifted off to sleep.

|4:00 am|

I really need to use the bathroom.

I don't want to get up though. I'm rather comfortable and the temperature is just right underneath the blanket.

I fought internally before finally deciding to get up in search of a restroom. Goosebumps rose on my skin at the sudden coolness of the house and an eerie feeling lurked in the air. Like something was about to happen. I don't like that feeling.

I ventured down the hall and was about to turn the corner when I heard two voices speaking in a rushed whisper tone.

"I know I can't believe it either but my sources never lie." One voice said.

"But it shouldn't have been fatal. Jungwon, I know where I stabbed him." Another responded. I leaned closer to hear the conversation.

"Regardless of where Jay, he bled to death and now their out for our blood." Are they talking about Jisung? Is he dead?

"Do you think they'll come for Isis again?" The voice I now recognized as Jay's asked.

"They might, and if they get their hands on her we might not be so lucky to get her back safely this time. So we have to keep her under lock and key. She doesn't understand the danger she's in."

"Why don't we just tell her?"

"No! She's already stressing about this as it is. If you so much as utter a word about this to her I will—"

I leaned a little too far into the wall causing the picture on the wall to teeter. I gasped, grabbing the sides to quiet the sounds. When it stopped, I listened for a moment and heard their footsteps getting closer to where I was. I quickly rushed back to the living room, diving under the covers.

As I laid there I thought about the conversation that ensued.

Jisung's dead. Jisung's dead.

Those words kept echoing in my head causing tears to prick in the corners of my eyes. I've never been able to deal the best with death and have only ever known one person that died; my mom. I breathing began to get unsteady thinking about how I may have been the last person he ever saw, or how his blood stained the clothes that I am still currently wearing. The singular tears that slipped out turned into an all out sob. I wiped the tears as they fell but that wouldn't stop them from falling overall.

"Isis?" Jungwon's voice asked. I slowly pulled the covers down, since he already knew I'd heard them talking. "Did you hear us?" I nodded, seemingly crying harder. He sat down on the arm of the couch, pulling my head into his chest.

"It's all my fault." I sobbed out. I shouldn't have went to the race, like you tried to tell me on the phone. I shouldn't have gotten involved with you all in the first place. I—"

"Shh. It's okay. There's nothing you could have done." He tried to comfort me, patting my head. His efforts were in vain though, because my overwhelming emotions were preventing me from hearing him or feeling anything other than pain. My breath became labored as more sobs raked through my body.

"Empathy is for the weak." Jay suddenly said standing a few feet from us.

"Jay!" Jungwon warned. I looked up and glared at him through my tears. Abruptly, I stood up, startling Jungwon.

"Shut the fuck up! You don't know shit about empathy." I jabbed my finger in his chest.

"You're right about that." He said nonchalantly.

"You literally killed him!"

"He wasn't the first and he probably won't be the last." I just stood there looking at him with a straight face.

He really doesn't care.

"Let me tell you something: you may live your life like this, fighting and killing, but I don't live my life like this. I distinctively chose not to get involved with gangs for this reason. My nightlife and my personal life are separate. I never should have gotten involved with you all in the first place!"

I pushed him causing him to stumble backwards then walked away from him heading straight to the front door, slipping on my shoes.

"Isis where are you going?" I quickly glanced sleepy Jake called from the hallway. We most likely woke him with all of the yelling.

"Home." I didn't look at him when I responded but he seemed to have caught a glimpse of my tear-stained face.

"Why?" He asked suddenly alert.

"I don't know, ask Jay." I unlocked the door when Jungwon called out to me this time.

"Isis, wait! Do you think this is a good idea? If you heard us in the hall or if SKZ mentioned it to you, you know the target you have on your back right now." I turned around aggressively wiping my tears.

"Thank you Jungwon, for everything, but right now I feel a lot more safe out there than in here right now." I gave him a tight-lipped smile, glancing at Jay quickly before opening the door.

"Oh also, don't visit me or look for me. My affiliation with you all is dangerous." I paused.

"And tell Sunoo I said sorry."

Chapter 2 Fin

Second chapter, how we feeling yall? comments, critiques, or thoughts are very appreciated :)

》》Isis《《

"There's my sleepy princess!" My dad said as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen. "Had a rough night? The headaches still bothering you" He asked.

'You have no idea' I thought to myself recalling the sheer number of shots I took.

I nodded, putting on a sympathetic face. That's the lie I've been telling my dad for the last year and a half: terrible migraines. The perfect excuse to why I sleep until after noon every day, and carry pills in my backpack.

"I'll call the doctor again if you need me to." He offered. I quickly shook my head.

"Um actually I called yesterday and he said that my symptoms are normal considering the 'big changes'." I did air quotations. All lies. Initially, "the doctors" claimed it was stress headaches because senior year was ending. Now since I've decided not to go to college this school year, they've claimed that it's from overworking. Whatever floats my dad's boat.

They've done MRIs and CT scans but never found anything out of the ordinary.

And they wont. Because nothing's wrong with me. I don't have trouble falling asleep and I don't have a pounding headache from stress or work.

I have hangovers. From too much partying and drinking, and maybe even a side effect or two from the pills.

I actually have what I prefer to call a very active night life. I leave my house at 8 pm and stumble home at 3 am. Not ideal for everyone but personally, I'm having a blast.

To the family men, hard-working independent women, and studious college goers, the nightlife is a mystery. Sure they know of clubs and bars staying open into the early morning hours but that's usually the extent of their knowledge.

They don't know about the under ground raves that require you to pop an unknown pill upon entry. Or the street races that take place down past the old warehouse at the edge of town. Or the secret fighting ring operated on the mall rooftop.

I dabble in most. But being involved in 2 or 3 is the most ideal for many.

For example, if you're involved in gang activities, more often than not you're also involved in racing and drug dealing. Or the drug dealers are nearly always involved in the rave and party scene.

I don't like to be limited on my options...

"Hey Isis, I'm gonna be out running some errands for a little while. You know Yeonjun's supposed to be coming today and I want you on your best behavior." My dad called grabbing his keys. I rolled my eyes.

'Of course he is...'

Yeonjun is my step brother. His mom and my dad have been married for about 3 years. But since they never moved in together, Yeonjun and I only really see each other on holidays and special occasions. His mom, Yena, is going on a business trip for a few months and my dad offered for him to stay here with us during that time.

"No he needs to be on his best behavior. " I mumbled under my breath. Yeonjun and I can rarely sit in the same place without starting a full blown argument. Why you may ask? Because he's extremely childish and likes to annoy me.

"I hope you're mumbling about what a great time you two are gonna have together!" My dad says heading towards the front door. I chuckled.

"Right. Bye dad."  I waved to him and locked the door behind him. Before I could take two steps there was a knock at the door. Reopening it, there stood my dad...and Yeonjun.

"Look who I found in the driveway." Dad beamed. I snorted.

"You mean what you found. Is there a return to sender option?" I said sarcastically.

"Hey sis." Yeonjun smiled, ignoring my comment. I waved.

"Hey~" We just stood there in silence for a few seconds.

"Well, I gotta run princess, come help Yeonjun with his bags." My dad waved leaving once again.

"I gotta run 'princess'~" Yeonjun said in a mocking way, dropping the façade he put up around my dad.

"Shut up!" I laughed. The misconception that our parents have is that we hate each other's guts, but we just argue a lot. He's actually really funny when he's not being an total ass.

I turned around leaving him at the door.

"Um, aren't you gonna help me with my bags." He called stepping inside and closing the door. I continued towards the steps.

"Yeah lemme get dressed first."

"Bro it's just to your driveway and back." He whined laying over the backside of the couch.

"And? Who the fuck do i look like going outside in pajamas?" I ran up to my room and began changing clothes. Taking off my pajamas and slid my shorts on, I heard knock at my bedroom door startled me.

"Ugly said what?" Yeonjun said quickly, pushing my door open.

"What?" I said instinctively. "Bitch?! Oh my gosh! Get out!" I yelled after realizing what he said, throwing my pajama top at him. He caught it laughing. "I'm serious Yeonjun! I'm literally topless right now!"

"And I'm literally not leaving until you're ready to get my stuff out the car." He retorted. I yanked my shirt over my head.

"I'm ready. Happy?" I pushed past him. See, this is why people think we hate each other, because he will do everything in his power to annoy the hell out of me.

Getting the stuff out of the car literally took less than 5 minutes. We carried everything to the second floor guest room that was next door to mine.

"Okay, I'll leave you to it." I announced turning on my heels.

"Wait!" He called out.

"What?"

"Chicken butt." He laughed as I kept walking.

"Wait, no, but for real, I'm hungry."

"Well you can go eat then–food's in the fridge or pantry– or wait for my dad to get back home. Regardless, I'm going to take a nap cuz I gotta work later."

I left before he could stop me again, retreating back to my room. Flopping on my comfy bean bag chair, I was once again reminded of the drinking that I did the night before. My stomach churned at the thought.

Definitely not drinking today.

When I woke up it was about 5 pm. My headache was gone and I was starving. I smelled pizza and practically flung myself down the stairs. There at the source of the smell was Yeonjun, too busy stuffing his face to notice my presence.

"Back from the dead?" My dad joked. I nodded. Although his sudden presence lowkey startled me, I heading straight to the cheese pizza sitting on the counter. Eyes on the prize.

"Okay! I got called in and so I have to go in to the hospital early around 6 or so." I nodded again barely listening.

Don't get me wrong, I love my dad. We only have each other to lean on, but honestly speaking, my dad being called in early wasn't an isolated or even a rare occurrence. My dad was the head surgeon at our local hospital but since he graduated from Harvard's medical school, he's often times was in high demand at the regional hospital about an hour away.

"A big surgery?" I inquired taking another bite.

"Yes. A patient being airlifted in for a transplant. The surgery could take 8-12 hours, so I'll be home around 7 or so."

I glanced at the clock and it read 4:49. He'll probably be leaving at 5 to make it there on time.

"I'm gonna go finish getting ready before I burn out on you guys." He walked down the hall to his room, the soft click of the door sounding behind him. I finished my pizza slice and reached for another one.

"Step sibling sleepover!" Yeonjun announced excitedly. I chuckled at his childishness.

"Yeah, no can do." I placed my half eaten pizza on a plate, having barely satisfied my hunger craving.

"Wait, why not?!"

"I gotta work." I shrugged smirking. I walked into the living room and flopping on the couch, fishing around for the remote. His smile dropped as he followed me.

"What do you mean 'work'? You have a job?"

"Um, yeah, you think because I didn't go to college I'm what?" I quizzed him. "Bumming around?" I finally found the remote and started playing music on the tv. Some random 90s rock song floated from the speakers.

"Where do you work?" Yeonjun sank into the couch next to me.

"At a café part time and a convenience store full time. Evening and overnight shifts."

"Do you work every night?" He asked, now vibing along with the music.

"Usually I go in if they call or if I'm scheduled in advanced but I don't really have a set schedule." I explained. My phone started ringing as if on queue.

"Speaking of," The caller ID read: lil dog. I stood up walking away from the music to take the call.

"What's up?" I answered slightly lowering my voice. Don't need Yeonjun all in my business now do I...

"Yo Big Dog, we still on for tonight right?" His gruff voice reached my ears.

"Yeah, why wouldn't we be? Is there a problem?" A slight concern rose in my voice as I took a few more steps into the hall, making sure Yeonjun couldn't hear me.

"Nah, no problem boss. There's this new kid making a name for himself though, supposed to be rumbling tonight. Think you can slide on by? May even drop a bag on 'em if he's as good as he claims."

I thought about this for a minute. Many people don't know this but I actually started the fighting ring in town and worked my way up as the "big boss" of the organization. I fought every one, no matter their size, gender or age. And beat all of them. Back then I was angry and needed to take it out on any and everybody

But overall I've moved past that life. Fighting isn't as appealing to me now as it was back then. Regardless, I am the boss and if this new guy is as good as he's described to be, I have to see him.

"I'll stop by. Briefly." I told him. "But I have some prior engagements so I can't stay long. I'll come at 9."

"Got it." He replied hanging up. I rejoined Yeonjun on the couch and saw that he had changed the music to and R&B song. Before I could yell at him for changing my music and messing up my algorithm, my dad made his way out of his room heading towards the door once again, clad in blue scrubs the smell of old spice wafting in his wake..

"Hey Quincy!" Yeonjun calls after my dad before he completely disappeared out the door. "Since I'm gonna be staying here for a little while, is it okay if I invite some of my friends over to hang out or sleep over? I'll let you know in advance, of course, but you know since both of you guys work nights, I might get a little bored or lonely."

"Oh sure, it's no problem Jun. What's mine is yours." He left out the door, speeding out of the driveway.

"Well, I don't have to be at work until 9 so we have time for either a long movie or two short ones." I offered.

We agreed to each pick a movie. After a few minutes of scrolling Yeonjun decided on watching Rush Hour 2. The funniest one obviously. We sat cracking up throughout the entire movie.

By the end, Yeonjun and I were leaning into each other, watching the credits roll. Afterwards, I put on Sleeping Beauty.

Yes, I'm was a Disney kid, and what about it?

I stood up fake waltzing when my favorite scene began playing.

"I~ know you. I walked with you once upon a dream." I sang the entire song word-for-word.

"But we've met before. Don't you remember? Once upon a dream." I even quoted Prince Phillip's lines. Yeonjun sat back watching me with a smirk, before chuckling slightly.

"What?" I quipped ceasing my actions. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I just really have a younger sister. It amazes me sometimes. Plus you still act like a child." I stopped dancing looking at him with a blank stare.

"I'm literally 20. I'm an adult." I argue.

"Mmmm, not really."

"Yes, I am!"

"You can't get into clubs, you can't even buy alcohol, let alone drink it. Right, how very grown of you."

I listened to his words before giggling slightly to myself. If those things are what categorizes you as grown, then I've been grown a long time.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked cautiously.

"Cause you got me there." I quickly decided to end the conversation and return to the couch rather than prove him wrong. By the time the movie was halfway finished, it was time for me to get ready to leave.

I went up stairs and closed my bedroom door. Grabbing an empty backpack, I placed an emerald green leather bodysuit and a change of clothes including a tube top and a pair of holey jean shorts. I zipped it shut and sat it to the side.

I scrounged around trying to find an outfit before deciding on a grey baby tee that read "Call Me Mommy" with black cargo pants and a bomber jacket. I put my hair into a ponytail and grabbed a pair of sunglasses, heading out the door with my bag.

"Alright Yeonjun," I bounded down the stairs, grabbing my helmet from the coat closet near the door. "Imma head out. Don't burn down the house, no people over-"

"But your dad said-" I death glared at him.

"No people, got it."

"Whatever. I'm gone." I quickly left, sliding my bad under my motorbike seat. After securing my helmet I pulled out of the driveway, speeding into the night.

In what felt like no time, I made it to the mall. Pulling around back, there was a ladder that went from the top of the first floor to the rooftop of the building.

I cut the engine and climbed on top of the trash can, pulling myself onto the first floor roof and following the ladder to the top. The closer I got to the roof the more cheering I heard.

"Boss." My associate greeted me as I pulled myself onto the rooftop. I just nodded and he came to follow me as I pushed my way through the crowd.

The in the middle of the circle stood a man with wavy ash blonde hair lying on the ground in a pool of blood. The sight cause my stomach to turn and a bad taste to appear in my mouth but I refused to let it show.

Towering over that man was a shirtless one who looked to be close to around my age. The guy was toned, like he hit the gym often. Like he was experienced. He had black hair and a stern yet victorious look in his eyes. An intriguing look, if I do say so myself.

"That's JP. The one I was telling you about." He locked eyes with me, to which a quirked an eyebrow. He stood there waiting for his opponent to rise back to his feet, yet he stared at me? I smirk at him slightly. He's good, I'll give him that but it takes more than just being good to fight here. There are rules that must be followed, and ruled number one is my word is law.

I clenched my hand into a fist–watching as his eyes were drawn to it– before quickly opening it to show my palm twice, making a "flashing" motion. Universal street fighting symbol: Throw the fight.

His eyes widened, shaking his head lightly. It was ever so lightly so that his opponent couldn't peep it. Wrong move buddy...

My eyes were unwaveringly set on his to see what he would do now that his opponent was off the ground. To my surprise, he allowed his fist to come in contact with his face, not even attempting to dodge it. One.

The ash-blonde fighter continued to swing. Both of the hits making contact with his head. Two. Three.

He looked over at me with unfocused eyes, pleading me to do something. I made a chopping motion after the fifth punch connected. End it.

JP regained his composure and punched the boy, K'Oing and finishing the fight in less than 5 seconds.

A wave of cheers and boos merged together at the abrupt end of the fight, but they all went silent as I stepped into the middle of the circle. The remaining fighter dipped his head at me in respect.

"JP is it?" I began and he nodded quickly, still breathing hard. "Welcome." I shook his hand as a small smile made its way onto his face. Wow he has a nice little smile...

"You should know the Ring is an exclusive fighting organization. I am the boss here and my word is law." I states as he simply nodded slowly.

"I'm sure you're aware that this is neutral territory." He gives me a confused look before I motion to a bandana wrapped around his ankle. He just nodded again.

"Keep your beef, strife, and all other shit outside the match." He nodded once more determined than before. I smirked turning to Lil Dog.

"45."

"45 bands?! That aint no small amount boss."

"Did I stutter?" I narrowed my eyes stepping closer to him. He quickly shook his head, fishing the bands from a duffle bag. I glanced back at JP wondering just briefly about what his name could be and how old he is.

Here at the ring we never go by our real names or disclose any personal information about ourselves, but that never stops me from wondering.

He must have felt my stare and looked at me. We locked eyes for about 3 seconds before breaking eye contact. His eyes were a swirl of emotions and I could tell he had been through a lot in his life, just from those 3 seconds.

"You're pretty." He said almost as if he was saying his thoughts out loud. Both of our eyes widened, genuinely shocked that he said that. I smirked at him, the building tension causing my confidence to skyrocket from his sudden compliment.

"Not too bad yourself, JP." I stepped to him, tapping his cheek twice. His stone cold look remained unmoved as he held his arms tightly crossed over his chest; both of them filled with the growing stacks of money rubber banded together.

"I gotta bounce Lil Dog, prior engagement. Gotta run." I glanced at my watch. 9:30. I turn on my heels about to descend down the ladder.

"Mommy." A monotone voice said aloud.

What the fuck?

I turned around assuming they were speaking to me. JP stood there with a small smirk on his face.

"I didn't think you'd actually respond." He said motioning to my shirt. Call me Mommy. Oh.

"Well I didn't think you'd actually do it in the first place." I replied back incredulously. He cracked a smile, laughing and stepping closer to me.

"The way you turned around, that's definitely not the first time you've been called that." I look him in the eyes. He's the first new recruit to ever talk to me like this.

"Well, I guess you have no way of knowing that for certain, now do you?" I said dropping my voice an octave lower and bring my face inches from his. He visibly gulped, going quiet. I hesitated a few seconds before pulling away. "Right. I thought so. See ya sweets."

I stepped back, nodding at Lil Dog before walking away. As I headed down the ladder I heard him begin lecturing JP.

"That was Big Dog, the boss and head of our organization, and you should address her as such. Flirting and playful banter with her is not allowed-"

I chuckled as I makde it to my bike.

'That dude must be new here or stupid.' I thought to myself. Either way, I'm intrigued. I speed away to my next destination. If I go a few miles over the speed limit I can make it to Belift before 10.

By the time I pulled up, I could tell from the long line outside, that it was definitely past 10. I still tried it though, walking straight past the line to the doors. The bouncer stopped me though.

"No can do Angel. You know the rule women free entry before 10. It's 10:05." He said. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, at all the cool clubs it's 'til 11!" I argued. James is only ever a hard-ass when I try to get in free. One day during a drunken chat post-clubbing he revealed to me that he has a crush on the owner. The owner that I just so happen to be close with.

"Then I guess you better go to one of the cool clubs then." A voice said from behind me. The owner of the voice was just the man I wanted to see, the owner of the club: Mr. Kim.

"Mr. Kim!" I exclaimed with a grin; he smirked.

"Pretty excited to see me, huh, Angel?" He ruffled his hand through my hair.

"I'm only excited to see you if you'll let me in for free." I bargained. "Bozo here wants me to wait in this atrociously long line like I'm not the one keeping this place's lights on."

He laughed loudly, slinging his arm around my neck, simply walking past the bouncer.

Club Belift was the number one club within a 500 mile radius and Mr. Kim made sure it stayed that way. Celebrity appearances; VIP rooms; Guest performances and famous DJs, you name it. But the most profitable one of all is the underhand drug deals that he operated out of the lounge.

This wasn't exactly a secret to those that frequented the club either; most times they were the highest bidders for the most exclusive drugs.

We pushed past hundreds of sweaty bodies partying hard—although it's only 10 at night—and headed straight to the lounge. Walking through the main room, we greeted the other regulars here and entered his office at the end of the hall. I plopped down on a chair and made myself comfortable while he stood there looking at me.

Here comes the lecture...

"You know the other ladies will start to feel some type of way if I keep letting you in for free." He said, grabbing a seat behind his desk.

"I don't give a fuck." I snorted, pushing myself from the desk causing me to spin in the chair. He rolled his eyes.

"Next time you're paying." I abruptly stopped the chair from spinning.

"But Sunny!" I complained twirling the chair to face him. "It was like 5 minutes and James knows what's up! You know he is just holding a grudge against me since he has a crush on you but you like me better than him. It's not fair! He just tryna do the most" I ranted pouting. Mr. Kim got up walking over to me

"You're lucky you're so cute." He crouched down to my eye level. My heartbeat betrayed me, doubling in speed. The eye contact was getting intense so I looked away. "Is my little Angel jealous?"

"No!" I gasped. He grinned gently placing his hand on my chin, tilting my head upwards as his thumb caressed my cheek.

I acted like it had no affect on me because Mr. Kim had always been like this. A little flirty, overly compassionate towards me. I just assume its from him knowing me so long. I've known him for almost 5 years. He kind of took me under his wing when I first got into the nightlife scene. He saw me dancing at Kwangya, the strip club I work at, and we quickly became inseparable.

"Don't be jealous." He leaned back sitting on the edge of his desk. "So what'll it be today, princess? LSD, shrooms, X?" He suggested but I shook my head.

"Nah, not today and no weed either. I got work after this and they hate when I show up smelling loud."

"Got some paint and powder." He shrugged.

"Nah paint usually makes me feel like shit afterwards." I thought for a second. "Oh! Got any G?"

"Indeed I do. That what you want?" I nodded excitedly. Whenever I was off the G I always feel euphoric and relaxed.

"Well, you know what I gotta do." Sunny says after getting the drug from the safe. He keeps it in the safe instead of with the others because he knows it's my favorite. He sat at his desk with a paper.

"'This drug is Gamma-hydroxybutyraten commonly known as GHB or G, Gina, R2-'"

"Every time Sunny." I complain. He claims that when he gives anyone any drugs, he reads their side effects like he's reading them their rights. 'No one's dying on my watch', that's what he always says, so he just ignored my complaining, skipping straight to the side effects drabble.

"Some effects of this drug on your body is euphoria, increased libido, and calming properties. Misuse of this drug could cause loss of consciousness, amnesia, nausea, hallucinations, and in serious cases death. Are you aware of these potential dangers?"

I just nodded as he slid the paper over to me. I quickly signed it and slid it back over to him.

"As you know," he slid in quickly. "This drug come is a liquid, powder and pill form, which one would you be indulging in today?" He asked me. I gave him an look since he already knew. He laughed sliding the pill to me.

"Following the consumption of said drug you must remain in my presence for observational reasons for at least 30 minutes."

"But Sunny-"

"Nuh-uh. No buts. It's a safety concern, you know this."

"Whatever." I concluded swallowing the pill down. I opened my mouth showing that I swallowed it and that he should start the "observation time".

We just sat there in silence while I slowly began to feel the pill kick in. I felt really relaxed and felt like I could do anything with no consequences at all. This prompted my mind to wonder and the lack of perceived consequences cause me to talk.

"Hey Sunny!"

"Yeah?"

"I asked some of the guys one time if you 'observe them' after administration but they said no." I explained while avoiding eye contact. I didn't want to accuse him of lying but their answer to my question left me curious since the last time I came.

"I told you not to talk to the other guys." He grumbled sternly.

"But why is that?" I asked ignoring his comment. He sighed.

"Well for starters, I wouldn't give two shits if one of them fell out in front of me and I sure as hell wouldn't call an ambulance to save their junkie asses." I nodded slowly trying to understand what he meant but this pill is fucking with my comprehension skills.

"So with me?"

"Angel, I'd kill myself if it meant saving you." He caressed my cheek. "You're not just some girl I sell drugs to. You know this. I don't know when, or how, but you've become so much more to me."

I leaned into his hand that still rested on my cheek. The way that Sunny looks at me, like I hold the weight entire galaxy in his eyes. My heart began to beat faster making it hard to maintain eye contact.

"Umm," I quickly stood to sober up a little, but swayed instead causing me to land me onto his chest. Without wasting any time, his arms circled around my waist steading me. Time seemed to still and the air thickened with unspoken tension. Feelings the went unspoken on my end for at least 3 and a half years.

"Mr. Kim." I whispered due to our close proximity. Our eyes never left each others as we began to slowly lean in, drawn together by a seemingly magnetic force. There's that increased libido kicking in.

"Sunoo." He said suddenly, his breath fanning my lips. I paused looking slightly confused. "My name- my real name is Sunoo." I smiled, glancing at his lips then back at his eyes. A warm feeling began to spread throughout my body. Although we're known each other for years, we're never used our real names with each other. Or anyone else for that matter. Its too risky. Yet here and now he decides to reveal such a hidden part of himself to me.

"Hi Sunoo." I said testing the name on my lips. Determined, I firmly yet softly pressed my lips to his. I felt his body tense for a second before relaxing as he exhaled a shaky breath and kissed me back with reciprocating force. His grip on my exposed waist tightened as he attempted to pull me impossibly closer until our bodies were flushed together. The kiss was messy. A clash of lips, teeth, and tongue. Desire and drugs clouded my judgement. Is this the right thing to be doing? I honestly have no idea, but right now there's nothing stopping me. Our lips moved in sync with each other, my body slightly grinding on his. A small moan escaped my lips as I slipped a hand under the front of his shirt, feeling myself getting carried away. Sunoo quickly pushed me away holding firmly to my hips.

"What?" I asked breathlessly. My chest rose and fell quickly, overwhelmed at my growing emotions.

"Angel, I can't. No, I won't. I won't do this with you, not now." He said almost sadly. A sinking feeling of rejection began to foster in the pit of my stomach.

"Why not? Intoxicated actions are sober thoughts, right?" I leaned back into him. He turned his head, avoiding the kiss.

"Angel." He said sternly, avoiding eye contact with me. I attempted the kiss a second time but Sunny roughly pushed me backwards causing me to stumble and land on the chair I previously sat in.

"Being drunk and on drugs is different. You have something influencing your thoughts and actions. This isn't the real you." He backed away and returned to the other side of his desk. The physical distance he created caused a chill in the room's atmosphere.

I sat there feeling as if I'd just had a bucket of water poured over my head. I felt embarrassed and sad because it felt like he was yelling at me when I didn't so anything wrong.

Ugh...this is not what being on G is supposed to feel like.

Silence engulfed us as none of us spoke for a few minutes, but the minutes felt like hours.

"You didn't have to push me like that, you know. If you didn't want to do it, you could have just said that." I said quietly, my voice wavering as I felt some tears well up in my eyes. Ugh, this is so stupid.

"What?" Sunoo quickly snapped his attention to me, noticing my sad demeanor. "Angel, I'm sorry..." He said it softer trying to ease my hurt. "You know I—"

"If you don't...like me, you should have just said that." My voice broke when I said that. It hurt me to say but it seems like that's the truth. It felt as if all of my feelings for the last three years came crashing down on my heart. Crushing it into a million pieces. I bit my lip to stop it from trembling. I worked up the courage to lock eyes with him and immediately regretted it. He held an pained expression on his face. A mixture of guilt, sadness, and confusion. One that I'm not going to stick around and decipher. Trying to blink away the tears which only caused them to fall. Exhaling a shaky breath, I stood up and headed straight to the door without another word.

"No Angel wait!" He stood from his desk and raced over to me before I could reach to door. "Love, you know that's not true." He turned me around to face him and grasped both of my hands in his. I looked down to avoid his gaze, the tears cascading at full force now.

"Angel, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset" Understatement of a century... "I just don't want the drugs to mess your feelings up and make you confused." I scoffed lightly, looking up in his eyes. The beautiful brown eyes of my closest friend in the night life. The ones I fell for. The ones that are causing me to feel hurt like never before. The ones that scanned my face, taking in the tears, searching for hesitation that would coax me to return the seat across from his desk and break the tension.

"I think you're doing a great job of that all by yourself." I responded curtly and removed my hands from his. "I'll come by a different day, okay?" I attempted a smile trying to mask my tear stained face. But to no avail as more tears fell. I quickly retreated to the door catching one last glimpse of Sunoo's longing yet hesitating expression. The last thing I heard was papers and books flying off his desk and a frustrated "Fuck!" echoed as I closed the door.

I emerged from the club after fighting through a maze of people-the club now in full swing since it is closer to eleven.

Dang, I gotta get to work.

I wiped my face and sat on my bike for a little bit letting the cool air free my mind. I started the engine riding off into the nearly empty streets.

My job isn't that far from the club so I got there in about ten minutes. Grabbing my bag, I raced into the side door.

The chaos within the dressing room was something that I've gotten used to over the years. About 10 half naked girl running around last minute asking each other for lash curlers, mascara, and lipstick.

You would think with us doing this every night, we'd get more organized.

I made my way over the dressing room, placing my bag inside my locker and quickly changing into my emerald green bodysuit. It hugged my curves perfectly and accentuated my breast like a Victoria Secret commercial.

I went back to my vanity catching a quick glimpse of my tear-stained face. I wiped it away, hoping to forget the even entirely, if only for a few moments. Quickly, I did my makeup as one by one the girls left for the stage and later returned to the room.

"Viper on in 5, clearing the stage now." The stagehand called inside. I made the final touches to my makeup and examined myself in the mirror.

I don't care that Mr. Kim doesn't want me. His loss because I'm fine as hell.

I fluffed my hair and slid on my masquerade mask we were all required to wear, walking towards the stage.

"We brought the thunder and lightning, girl." Another performer said walking past me. "Now all that's left is the rain."

I got backstage and stood next to my prop chair.

"Then let's make it rain." I whispered to myself, smirking as the curtain opened.

I can't recall too many details from the dance itself because overtime all the dances combine into one. However, as I transitioned from the chair portion to the pole, I noticed a man at the far end of the stage dropping big bills. We'd locked eyes once or twice but he didn't really stand out. He seemed like he belonged here. Carrying an air about himself like he owned the place, without even saying anything. Trying not to pay too much attention to any one particular guest, I just thank him for contribution to our art.

I went back onstage a couple more times after my solo for our collab stage dances and my second solo dance.

Making my way off stage, I was satisfied knowing that no one raked in as much money as I did.

After my dance I was a little tired out but exhilarated to say the least. I know that I raked in more that two grand from the dance alone.

I ran back into the dressing rooms, sitting at my vanity and removing my mask, checking my makeup.

"Excellent performance, Viper." My boss said abruptly announcing his presence as he stood in the doorway of the dressing rooms. "The way you dance was very beautiful and alluring. No wonder you rake in the most money every night." I just smiled, thanking him as he slipped out the doorway.

I glance at the clock that read 1:35, remembering that I got off at 2 am and have somewhere to be at 2:30.

I grabbed my makeup remover wipes from my vanity drawer, but after a few second of deliberation just decided to keep on the makeup look for later. I was doing touch ups when the boss man paid me another visit.

"Hey Viper, I know you get off in a little bit, but there's someone asking for you. He's a high payer that saw your dance, requesting a private dance. He said he'll even pay double."

I thought about this for a few second stealing another look at the clock. 1:39. Twenty minutes should be enough time for a dance.

"Okay, I'll do it. Where is he now?" I rose from my seat, fixing my hair and adjusting my top so that a little more cleavage is showing.

"I told him to wait in the red room."

The red room?! Everyone knows what goes on in the red room, and it's definitely not dancing.

Regardless, I nodded, making my way through the lobby and up the stairs putting on my fiercest switch. Whistles and calls were heard from each direction, though it didn't really phase me one bit.

I stopped in front of the room when I realized that I had forgotten my mask in the dressing room. I don't want to waste time running all the way back.

As I thought about what to so a bottle girl walked past, so I stopped her.

"Excuse me, do you know where the blindfolds are?" She nodded leading me to a small closet down the hall.

"Finna get busy, huh?" She insinuated raising her eyebrows at me.

"No I just forgot my mask and I'm not walking all the way back to the room." I took it and quickly went back to the room.

I glanced at the man sitting on the bed. I immediately recognized him as the big spender during my solo. Looking at him now, he seemed tall, even though he was sitting down. He had fluffy hair and big eyes. He looked really...attractive to say the least, almost innocent but there was something about the energy that exuded from him that made me think otherwise.

Slipping into the room, I dimmed the lights so that the only thing visible to him would be my silhouette.

"Hey." I said in almost a breathy whisper.

"Hi." He said sounding calm. Yeah, definitely not innocent. He's a little too relaxed...

"My boss told me that a fine man was requesting a dance." I sauntered closer, caressing the side of his face, towering over him in my heels. "Even willing to pay double?" I felt his right hand trail up the outside of my thigh.

"I saw you dancing and just couldn't get enough of you. I couldn't just let you slip away without seeing you up close."

The word 'seeing' brought me out of my trance, reminding me of the blindfold I held in my hand. He wasn't supposed to see who I was in the first place.

"Well since you're willing to pay so much more, I figure we could make this a little more special." I swung my leg over his lap straddling him as his hand found my waist. "A little more spicy." My voice dropped an octave.

I could see his eyes attempting to focus in the dark to make out my features.

"Spicy? How so?" Barely giving him enough time to ask, I quickly tied the blindfold around his eyes. I leaned in purposefully rocking my hips on his.

"Let's do the seeing with our hands, shall we?" My lips grazed him earlobe as I whispered to him. I place my hands on his, moving them so that I could stand up.

As I begun my dance I felt his hands on my legs and butt. I gently spread his legs to have easier access to grind my ass on his crotch area. I felt that he was getting hard underneath me which made me smirk a little. As I was turned around, he moved his hands from the outsides of my thighs, to the insides. Usually that would be a huge no for me, but it's something about him that make this feel okay.

"You seem to know what you're doing. Not your first rodeo?" I tried to make conversation. I was standing up from one of my dance moves when he grabbed my waist, spinning me around. Pulling me back to straddle his hips all in one swift motion.

Well I guess that's the end of the dance.

I slip my arms around the back of his neck, grinding into him once more. He quickly grabbed my hips, freezing me in place.

"You obviously know what you're doing." He says in a low growling tone, making my heartbeat speed up ever so slightly. He's kinda hot.

I could use a distraction...

I tilted my head innocently, not that he could see it.

"I'm not sure what you mean." I grinded my hips yet again, just to get a reaction. And boy did I.

The man threw his head back and let out a whimper-type moan. I could tell through the thin fabric of the blindfold that his eyes were closed tightly. I know he just came a little. Losing control a bit too fast. Maybe he was new to this.

I took this time to take in the rest of his face. He had a cute button-like nose and soft-looking lips. His skin was also insanely soft.

"It's my birthday today, so why don't we play a little game." He said suddenly.

"Whatever you want baby." I responded, his aura was slowly seeping me in.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare." I didn't plan on answering truth at all in case he asks me some personal shit.

"I dare you to drag those addictive ass acrylics across my skin until I get chills."

I started at his neck dragging my nails down his shoulders onto his arms. He wasn't as affected because he had a long sleeve shirt on. So I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I pulled his shirt from the tuck that held it in place, raking my nails up his back. He jerked up and arched his back. I could have stopped at this point but I figured why not. I brought my hands to his chest, lowering them to his abs, then lower.

"Stop." he said letting out a shaky breath.

"Not too big and bad now, huh?" I said teasingly. He pulled me closer so that there was no air between us and gripped his hand around my neck, just tight enough to feel the pressure.

Damn, he's hot.

"New game, Simon Says." All I could do is nod my head. Even though he couldn't see me he felt my head move with his grip around my neck.

"Simon says, grind, until I tell you to stop." I did as he requested, being entirely placed under his spell. I felt him rising beneath me once again so I added more pressure into rocking my hips.

"Simon says stop." He whispered. I could feel his breath against my lips. Making me stare at them. Why do I want to kiss him so bad right now?

"Kiss me." He said, as if reading my mind. Without sparing another thought. I crashed my lips into his as they basically molded together. Our lips moved in sync as I slowly closed my eyes, instinctively rocking my hips into his. Just as soon as the kiss started, Sunoo flashed into my mind. The way his lips felt against mine. The perfectness of that moment...until it wasn't.

The thoughts left my mind quickly as mystery man quickly brought his hand to my ass cheek slapping it roughly. I let out a yelp in his mouth before breaking the kiss.

"Bad girl. I didn't say Simon says." He said smirking.

I let out a low chuckle.

"Fuck Simon." I responded. Our lips collided once again, but this time more passionate and aggressively. Our tongues danced in each others mouths. His mouth tasted of vodka and coke, two of my favorite drinks, making it nearly impossible to break away from him.

His hands moved from my neck to the top of my breast, which sat there like presents bursting out of a Christmas stocking.

He began kissing down my neck. I moaned at the sensation, throwing my head back. As his tongue began working on a trail on my neck I opened my eyes, coming face to face with a clock.

2:15

"Shit!" I pushed him away, standing abruptly.

"What's wrong?" He held his hand over the blindfold contemplating taking it off. I placed my hands over his delaying it's removal.

"I have to go right now." I kissed him one last time before I quickly made my way to the door.

"Wait!" He took off the blindfold at the same time I turned all the lights brightness to the max.

"See ya, sweets!" I dash out the room giving his eyes no time to adjust.

I made it back to my dressing room in record time. Having no time to change, I kept on the revealing bodysuit and just slipped on my super short denim shorts. Grabbing my bag and money my boss has so kindly left out for me, I left out the back door. I slid onto my motorbike, starting it and speeding off the lot.

I have to get thirty minutes away in half the time. Guess I just have to double my speed. So here I am doing 100 in a 50 zone, hoping and praying that I make it on time. I sped on the shoulder of the road, in between cars and pulled some shortcuts. After a while, I could see the familiar glimmer of led headlights and the slight hue of smoke that lingers around the track.

I pulled in turning off my bike and checking the time.

2:28

I fixed my hair and made sure my makeup still looked nice.

"Omg Misty I was looking for you, here!" Gabbie said handing me a white bandana as I pulled a red one from under my seat. "Go go go, the countdown is about to start."

I made my way over towards the roar of engines. As I got closer I could see Tae from white about to race Jake from red. I got the same waves and whistles as I did at the club as I sauntered over to the cars peeking into both of them.

"You know the gist. I want a clean race; no illegalities of any kind including flames and blades, no tampering with the others car and no intentional ramming. Got it?"

"I'd like to intentionally ram-"

"Kim Tae Rae!" He smirked making eye contact with me. "Keep talking, I'll key your car." He clamped his mouth and blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes turning to Jake.

"Got it?"

"You know I do babe." He responded winking. I chuckled, rolling my eyes again. Boys...

I walked over the finish line further in front of the cars. I raised the white bandana, causing a ruckus of cheers and Tae Rae to rev his engine. Then I raised the red bandana creating the same effect but with louder cheers. I turned around facing the track instead of the cars as I always do, and dropped my arms at my side indicating the start of the race.

The two cars zipped past me so fast causing the ground to rumble slightly at their close proximity. The strong gusts of wind and Jake's rambunctious laughter zipping past after he smacked my ass at 140 mph was the last thing I heard before they zoomed away.

"I already said I was sorry babe." Jake had been following me like a lost puppy since the race had ended. I usually congratulate the winner but I am currently refusing to speak to him. He leaned against the hood of his car pulling me to lean into his chest.

"Misty. Babe. I said sorry." He placed one hand on my thigh sliding it higher with every word. "If you want I could kiss it better." He smirked.

Jake is cute but he's a womanizer. I knew that. He knew that. Hell, literally everyone he's ever come into contact was aware of that. Therefore his whack rizzing skills may work on other girls but not on me. I moved his hand before it reached my butt.

"First of all, don't call me babe. Second, if you move your hand any higher I'll scream so loud that Tae Rae will come over and beat your ass." I leaned over to his ear. "You know he already claims me as his."

Jake rolled his eyes. I wont lie, Jake looked attractive as fuck when he did that. He's has prince-like visuals for sure but love and sex seem to blur in his mind. Both are something I'd rather use for power. Apart from Sunny, I haven't had a real genuine crush on anybody in a long time. Not that I could really identify if what I feel for Sunny is love or lust yet.

"ZB1 can't do shit to me." He looked me up and down. "Can't do shit to us."

I think back over my night and honestly, I find it kind of comical the way multiple boys find themselves at my disposal. Thinking that they're my one and only, when in reality none of them even knew my real name.

"But for real though, sorry for smacking your ass so hard, next time I'll slow down." He tried to reason. I sarcastically placed a hand over my heart at his touching sentiment.

"Then you'll risk losing the race." I reminded him, pouting.

"A risk I'm willing to take." He smiled triumphantly. I shook my head in amusement and began walking away.

"Yo sweets! Congrats on the win though." I yelled back to him.

"So no winning kiss?" He complained and I laughed, not even turning back to respond.

"You both look cozy together." I heard Tae Rae say failing to mask his bitterness, leaning onto his car parked near my bike.

"Not really. Notice he's a lot more cozy with Gabbie." I gestured to Jake, who now stood leaning against his car making out with Gabbie, the other flag girl.

Tae Rae laughed. Like a real laugh, not those fake smirking ones I'm used to seeing.  And wow does he have a nice smile. I stared captivated for a few seconds before snapping myself out of it.

"Dang, he must think you're easy, if he thinks you would want to be with him after witnessing him swallowing another girls tongue like that." He shook his head looking away from the scene, then looked over at me.

ZB1 was a relatively new gang with an unknown amount of members (to me at least). But what is known is that they're very straightforward. If they want something, they'll get it and if they feel disrespected in any way, they will retaliate. Other than that, Tae Rae and Jiwoong (the two racers in their gang) have shown themselves to be some of the most genuine people I've met out here.

"Yeah, he probably does think I'm easy. I mean look at what I'm wearing." I joked. But Tae Rae didn't laugh.

"You shouldn't label yourself based on you clothes and you shouldn't let anyone else do it either. You dress that way because you're confident doing so."

Not gonna lie, if I met him under any other circumstances, I would have thought that was the smoothest, realest sweet talk, I've ever experienced. But this wasn't a run in at a park or the supermarket, this is an illegal street race and I know I shouldn't be involved with them on anything but a business level.

"Thanks Tae." I go over to him, engulfing him into a hug. People like him are hard to come by in street life in general. I stepped back and release him from the hug but he gently grabbed my arm. He glanced around almost nervously before he spoke.

"Hey Misty, you can say no if you want but...can I kiss you?" That question sort of took me aback because it's far and in-between that people ask for consent before doing stuff like that.

Why am I collecting the hoes tonight??

"I mean I know it's only like our second or third time meeting and that it's kind of random, but I think you are truly one of the most beautiful girls I've ever met and I-"

I pulled him in for a peck on the lips. 'Cause why not. His face was glowing pink when I pulled away making me smile.

"Could I...maybe, try that again?" He sounds so nervous and cautious, I find it cute and give in, nodding, allowing him to close the gap this time. We ended up making out for a couple of minutes, his hands never left my waist in the fear that I might be uncomfortable.

We pulled away slightly once again and just looked at each other from close range. I never noticed how deep Tae Rae's dimples are until now.

"Are you on drugs or are you actually in love with me?" He asked staring into my eyes. My pupils must be dilated.

I laugh aloud, making him look at me questioningly.

"I know you were trying to rizz me up but I actually am on drugs right now."

"Really?!" He laughs too.

"Yeah, I should probably head home. Bye Tae. Good luck with the next race." I headed over to my bike and sped away leaving the adoring and distantly jealous boys behind.

I made it home by 4 but can barely convince myself to climb up the stairs because I am beat. I slowly took it one step at a time, finally reaching my room at the end of the hall. I quickly gathered my things to take a shower and almost fell asleep twice before I safely made it to the shower and back to my room.

I climbed into bed as my alarm clock read 5:00. I began to nod off at the exact same time I heard my dad close the front door returning from work.

This is how I've been living for the last 5 years, give or take. A cycle I've made for myself; a very self-destructive cycle, at that.

Out almost every night alternating between the race track, the strip club, Belift, a new rave spot I found recently, and occasionally the fighting ring.

Over the last few days, I haven't been going to Belift as often and if I did, I avoided Mr. Kim. Sometimes coming as early as 8 or as late as midnight, not caring if I had to pay or not. Things have been awkward since the whole kissing my dealer thing and I don't really want to relive that situation.

Instead, I've been going to a rave spot called the Big Hits. It requires you to take a random pill upon entry; a pink or a blue psychedelic laced pill with a fruit flavor. It's a fun alternative, plus their DJ, Niki, is kinda cute.

******************************************************

Chapter 1 Fin

My first tumblr fanfic make some noise yall!!! It's actually a revamped version of a fanfic I started on Wattpad.... LMK what you guys think!! More uploads coming soon.

your stepbrother, jake, and his three partners in crime, jay, jungwon, and heeseung, all glanced at you. there was a lull of silence before they each burst into laughter.

“my sweet sister,” jake said, setting his cup on the coffee table and standing up from where he’d been seated with the others. “what did i tell you about making demands?”

you stiffened. you hadn’t meant to come off that way, but could he blame you for being cranky? sue you for wanting to get some sleep. preferably before the night was over with. “i’m not trying to make demands,” you replied, your tone shifting to something gentler. “i was just asking for a favor.”

“we owe you favors?” jake asked, the question clearly not meant to be answered. you shuddered when his hand met the small of your back. he cocked his head towards the kitchen. “let’s have a chat.”

your feet carried you there on their own accord when your mind failed you.

“now,” jake started, shaking his head in dissatisfaction, and sucked his teeth. “that little stunt aside, what did i tell you about coming out when my friends are around?”

“not to do it,” you murmured.

“that’s right,” jake sang, his hands gentle around your body and his own throbbing with warmth, but his touch still made you freeze. “that could have been a phone call and i might have been more inclined to be nice. but you disobeyed me. you’ve been doing that a lot, sweetheart. so now you’re gonna have to learn why it’s important to listen to me.”

your brows furrowed, and you were desperate to know what he meant by that. you knew him well enough to recognize when you were on the verge of being disciplined. your stepbrothers punishments had been unpleasant, at the very least.

jake grinned at the obvious look of dread on your face and the stiffness in your posture, and called out to the boys. when they entered the kitchen with mischievous smiles on their lips, each more so than the last, he leaned into you and whispered, “each of my friends has had a little too much to drink tonight, and when men drink, well, let’s just say it makes us do things we wouldn’t normally do.”

you knew he wasn’t saying that to give you a reminder of the effects alcohol had on human inhibition; he was telling you to warn you about what was going to happen any moment now. your eyes widened. “jake, no, please,” you begged, suddenly wide awake. you frantically hid behind him, panicked.

jake snickered. they all did. “ah, ah, ah,” he sang, grabbing a hold of you and not only pushing you in front of him, but sending you stumbling into the arms of his friends. “you don’t get to hide now when you weren’t supposed to come out in the first fucking place.”

you had never felt so many hands on your body at once. your torso twisted and turned, shrinking into itself in hopes of recoiling away from every touch, but it was a pointless endeavor. “your little sister is so pretty, jake,” said heeseung. “she’s so squirmy,” teased jungwon. “look at her trying to get away,” noted jay. they all laughed.

“please, stop,” you pleaded, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “jake, please, make them stop!”

jake shook his head, and as far as you could tell, his eyes had been approving. “sorry,” he apologized without a hint of sincerity. “but you have to learn.”

fingers slithered up your thigh. “where you going, baby?”

there were a set of hands cupping your supple breasts, another groping your ass, and one more slipping underneath the band of your sleep shorts. you couldn’t tell which was which; your mind was trapped in a panic, and they were all the same. “shh,” jungwon crooned, palming your hair almost with tenderness. “we’re just having a little fun. no doubt jake would throw a fit if we actually tried to depurify his innocent little sister.”

by the end of the night, you realized jungwon had been right. the three of them touched you and mauled you, but jake didn’t let them do anything more. apparently, he was just teaching you a lesson. not that that had made it any better. jake had been watching his friends fondle you for minutes on end, doing nothing in spite of your pleas. the moment he finally decided he’d seen enough and told them to release you, you’d sprinted back upstairs and locked yourself in your room like you should have done from the beginning.

your resentment deepened. never had you quite loved this strange family your mother had married into. your stepfather was a tall, stout businessman who was the chief executive of a technology powerhouse, which sounded awe-inducing out loud, but you always found him painfully arrogant and entitled. as the saying goes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and jake was no different.

the worst part was that your mother made you serve him. made you fix his dinner when he was hungry, wash his clothes when they were dirty, clean up behind him and his friends. it was infuriating, because he had maids for that purpose, but insisted on having you do it for some peculiar reason. your mother agreed with him; she thought it was important you learned how to take care of a man.

when your father died, you were convinced that was the worst thing that could ever happen to you. you hadn’t met jake yet.

on a particularly sunny afternoon, you had gotten dressed to go out to the mall with your best friend and made the unfortunate mistake of walking past jake, who took one look at you and asked, “you’re really going out wearing that?”

“what’s wrong with it?” you asked in annoyance, glancing down at your outfit. “it’s modest.”

jake retorted in a heartbeat, “yeah, modest and outdated as shit. you look like your name is velma.” he stood up and grabbed a hold of you, which you didn’t take kindly to, all things considered. “let’s go to your room. i’m not letting you go outside like this. it reflects poorly on the family image.”

you stifled a sigh, knowing better than to protest against him. 

“take that shit off,” jake commanded once you entered your bedroom. 

you begrudgingly obeyed him, shedding the long dress with black buttons that formed a line on the front. it was a little dated, perhaps, but you dressed that way to honor your deceased grandmother. your father had liked it. he said it kept alive his mother’s memory. 

jake had been going through your closet in pursuit of something that suited his taste, so when he finally did turn around and see you half naked, he paused. “you look better that way,” he said after a moment. 

you were affronted, and your body tensed in remembrance of what had happened the last time you felt so vulnerable.

“relax,” jake teased, shoving a bright yellow sundress decorated with white daffodils into your arms. “put this on.”

the moment you donned the dress, you swore jake almost looked happy to see you for the first time. his eyes took in the sight of you and it gave you the feeling of something unstill in the very pit of your stomach, even though in the moment he had silently looked at you, your body had seldom moved.

jake was pleased. “so you do own something that’s not entirely unwearable. you know, they say fine feathers make fine birds.”

it took everything in you not to roll your eyes. “can i go now?”

“patience, miss mary mack,” jake chastised playfully, grabbing a hat and purse from your closet, also yellow in color. “here. wear this.” with that, jake turned and walked out of your room. apparently, that was all the consultation he had to offer.

when you were finally at the mall with your best friend chaewon, you couldn’t help but notice something unusual; there were too many eyes on you. you were used to being paid attention to in certain settings, usually in occasions related to your stepfather’s job where everyone recognized you as an attachment to him. his young, beautiful, unmarried stepdaughter.

this was different. not many people knew you, and yet for whatever reason, you could feel stares from numerous directions. most of the time when you went out with chaewon, they were only looking at her. you could count on both hands, if not more, the amount of times you’d been offered things for free just because a stranger felt moved by her beauty.

but as you stood in the middle of a jewelry store, chaewon was unbothered, your eyes darting over a bunch of luxury watches that were on display. “ooh, i think jaehyun would like this,” she whispered, pointing to a particular silver one. “wanna get something for jake?”

“not really,” you murmured. “i don’t really know what he likes.” his personality made you think he would prefer something more flashy like gold, but as you pondered his style, your eyes raked over a watch with a brown leather band.

“he’s so cute, though,” chaewon swooned with a smile, sighing dreamily. “jaehyun said that he doesn’t want me to marry him, but it’s ultimately up to my dad. you should put in a good word for me.”

you frowned for a split second. you had always thought that you would marry whoever your dad selected for you, but now that he was dead, that choice was in the stone cold hands of your stepfather and stepbrother. you made an attempt at humor to cloak your grief. “don’t you have enough suitors already?” you teased.

“well, yeah,” chaewon admitted, despite not sounding deterred. “but imagine how much less my parents would argue if they’d just married someone they actually liked. that’s why we can’t have sleepovers at my house. always fussing.” 

she briefly paused, her attention stolen by another watch she thought her brother would find fitting as a gift, and pulled out her phone to take a picture. a thought struck her as her fingers moved. “ooh, plus we would be sisters-in-law!”

you nodded along as she rambled, but you couldn’t understand why she would want to wed jake of all the men who would love to have her hand in marriage. it made no sense to you; he was unbearable and treated you cruelly. she would never know that, though. whenever chaewon came to your house for sleepovers, jake was always on his best behavior.

you thought about it a little harder. jake was the type of man that looked perfect in pictures and on paper. there was no doubt that he was a handsome young man, and sometimes he was admittedly even funny, but as long as you had shared a house with him, you had been increasingly more miserable.

though there was no way in hell you could tell chaewon that, not when it was your responsibility to ensure everyone kept your family in high regards, so you forced a smile and told her cheerfully, “i’ll ask him what he thinks about it.”

chaewon embraced you in a tight hug. “you’re the best.”

“no, chaewon,” you murmured faintly. “you are.”

if you had to give jake credit for one thing, however, it would have to be the outfit he’d dressed you in. despite being often told you were beautiful, you were particularly lacking in suitors, which was concerning now that you were in your twenties.

these are the years for betrothal, your mother had said the day of your twentieth birthday, and when you closed your eyes to blow out the burning candle, you hoped for all the admirers your father had once vowed you would have, remembering the times he’d spun you in his arms and likened you to a princess with a million knights to defend her honor.

all you had ever wanted was to make your father proud, even if it meant settling with a man that was less like a fairytale, although in the deepest part of your heart, you had dreamed of a husband that treated you as well as your father had done until the day he died.

day by day, the reality of the situation seemed more and more grim, and as you compared yourself to other young women of your years, you concerned yourself less with the quality of men, but the quantity; time was running out, and you knew that if they found it necessary, your mother and her husband would pair you on blind dates with men of their choice sooner than later.

for that reason, and despite yourself, you found yourself standing outside jake’s bedroom door. you almost turned back, almost decided that you could handle your problems on your own. with your pride, it seemed better to die than to ask him to extend his help, especially when he made it a point to remind you that he owed you no favors. but you knocked anyway, and when you heard the sound of brutal combat and agonized cries cease, you knew he was coming.

“what?” was the first thing jake said when he answered his door. “i’m in the middle of a game.”

you swallowed. the words seemed physically painful to say. “i need your help.” it was a strained sound. 

jake’s irritation was gone, replaced by something closer to amusement and ridicule. “you need my help?” he repeated, as amazed to hear those words as you were burdened to say them. “i owe you my help?”

god, it was insane how absurdly predictable he was. “no, but i didn’t ask you for help last time, and i believe your words were that my fashion choices ‘reflect poorly on the family image,’” you reminded.

jake laughed; his owns words probably sounded like the wisdom of god repeated back to him. “this is about your subpar sense of style? why didn’t you say so sooner?” he stepped out of his doorway. “you realized why you should listen to big brother, didn’t you?”

hearing him refer to himself that way was almost as strange as hearing the irony in his voice when he called you, “sweet sister.” he was no brother of yours, no matter what the law or marriage said. nevertheless, you couldn’t deny the truth in the rest of his words; if nothing else had changed, then surely it was your clothing that had deterred men away.inflating his ego was the last thing you wanted, so your response was a mere soft, “will you help me?”

“you’re lucky you’re my responsibility,” jake replied, as if it would burden him otherwise. “sure, i’ll help you, but you’re gonna need an entire closet revamp. be ready to leave in thirty minutes.”

he walked backwards into his room and shut the door.

thirty minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of jake’s sleek, luxurious sports car. jake was allergic to silence, and gripping the leather wheel, he asked teasingly, “what made you realize your fashion’s off? did you suddenly get special attention when you were out?” 

that was exactly what had happened and you hated it. “more or less,” you told him vaguely.

jake hummed, putting on his blinker. at least he was a mindful driver. “men want things with value. things with no value go in the trash. your pretty face is a waste if you don’t know what to do with it. save the throwbacks for the met gala.”

“thanks for the advice,” you grumbled. 

jake glanced away from the road briefly to throw you a look. “is that snark?”

“no,” you lied. you both knew it.

it didn’t seem to have personally gotten to him, but jake was still unsatisfied. “you know how old my mom was when she got engaged to my father?” he asked. “nineteen.”

“and how did that work out for her?” you asked sarcastically, given that they were clearly no longer together.

“wonderfully, considering that when they divorced, she walked away with a fortune more than she had before they were married,” jake retorted without missing a beat.

the man has a response for everything, you grumbled to yourself, exasperated. “i assume there’s a point in there somewhere.”

“if you would let me get there,” jake groaned, feigning annoyance. “my mother, despite not being from the most wealthy family ever, still managed to marry my dad. do you want to guess why that is?”

“because your dad values things other than money?” you asked, despite finding it difficult to believe.

“close enough. because my dad saw value in her. the way she behaved, the way she carried herself. that was what made him decide that was the woman he wanted to tie himself to.”

you nodded along. “right.”

jake rolled his eyes. you still didn’t get it. “the point is, my mom had nothing near my dad’s fortune and still managed to compete against richer women from more prominent families. you, my sweet sister, are the stepdaughter of one of the wealthiest men in the country, and yet how many men have you lured with your own effort?”

you were silent, but you knew he was right to an extent. again. of your suitors, they were mostly men that had heard the chief executive had a stepdaughter and decided that was all that they needed to hear. few were organic, which any woman would prefer. in an effort to spare your pride, you huffed, “you act as if no man wants me at all.”

jake laughed harshly. “as long as you’re the ceo’s stepdaughter, of fucking course men will want you. my dad is most likely handpicking a list of candidates for you as well. but most girls run up to their fathers and declare, ‘dad, this is the man i want to marry,’ and pray to god that daddy likes him. you expect me to believe that you’re so good of a stepdaughter, you’ll marry whoever my dad tells you to without bothering to find someone yourself first?”

you sighed.

“everybody in this family serves a purpose,” jake told you, giving you his attention now that he’d stopped at a red light. “my father leads and represents the company. within a year’s time, he’ll retire and i’ll take his place. your mother assists with charities and public image. you need to figure out how you will contribute.”

it would be untrue if you said jake hadn’t given you something to contemplate. you could have cared less about the family business, but you remembered your father. sometimes he could be conventional to a fault, though you had still loved him with all your heart. the man had put family above all else in the world, and knowing that, you knew you had to do the same.

not to honor this family whose name you didn’t bear and whose blood you didn’t share, but to honor your father. and there was no better way to do that than to transform yourself from a princess to a queen.

jake brought you to a specific store you knew your stepfamily frequented. when you walked in together, the staff recognized you both and greeted you respectfully. “genesis,” jake said to one of the workers, a pretty woman with brown hair and fair skin. “my sister here wants to change her style and is in need of a complete overhaul. do me a solid and show us everything you have in season.”

“you got it,” genesis replied with a kind smile. “right this way, mr. lee.” she led you to a large, private dressing room secluded from the rest of the store. they had your measurements on file, courtesy of previous fittings, and genesis alongside some other workers began to bring out a large selection of outfits.

jake did most of the talking. all you had to do was step in and out of the clothes, and wait for his nod of approval. “you look best in bold colors,” jake mused out loud. he turned to genesis. “let’s try these.”

all around you, there were men and women bustling about as they meticulously organized a fine assortment of clothes and shoes and accessories that would complement your appearance. and when you let yourself sink into the moment, you did feel like royalty.

you did pick a few things yourself and jake gave no protest, before or after he saw your choice. “i don’t think you have bad coordination. you just need to get your head out of the nineteenth century,” he teased.

you had no response for that, none that wouldn’t kill the mood. even when you were a child, your taste in clothing had always favored that of your grandmother, your father’s mother, yet another loss you had too soon faced. perhaps in dressing like her, you were subconsciously honoring her too. 

there was a large, golden-framed mirror fixed to the wallpaper that hung tall against its maroon surface, running nearly from the edge of the floor to the roof, and you gazed upon your appearance with little recognition. “do i look good?” you asked, your face still, your eyes neither fond or unfond.

“you look beautiful, miss,” genesis told you adoringly, delicately placing a headband around your head. to your chagrin, her input was not the one you had intended to hear.

jake grinned, his warm brown eyes seeming to seldom blink as he looked at you. “it’s an improvement.”

but you could see his eyes wandering, appreciative, and there was an awkward blend of discomfort and desperation that clasped you in its arms. on the one hand, you hated the way he looked at you because it reminded you of the night when his friends had groped your body to their hearts’ content, but on the other, it made you feel desirable. and more than anything, you wanted to be desired.

“thank you for your hard work today,” jake said to the staff members on your way out, giving your bags to a staff worker to take to the car. the man walked the other direction.

your brows stitched together. “we’re not leaving?” you asked, baffled. maybe he wanted to visit the food court.

“no, my sweet sister,” jake replied silkily, taking your hand in his. “we have one more stop to make first.”

the second stop was another clothing store a floor higher, which you thought nothing of, assuming he simply wanted to view a broader inventory. jake led you to the fitting room and told you to stay put. 

when he came back, he was holding an ivory lingerie set. your eyes went wide. “jake, this is…”

“i know what it is,” jake interjected impatiently. “just try it on so i can see if it’s worth the change.”

you were in no particular hurry to don the ivory set, especially considering you could sense the sting of his eyes boring holes through your bare skin, and you couldn’t believe he had asked you to wear something so raunchy. but there he was, restlessly waiting, his gaze expectant. 

your movements were begrudging. when you had actually willed yourself to wear it in front of him, your eyes never met his own. the outfit of his choice was thin as paper and form-fitting and hid little to nothing, the color of your flesh exposed in between intricate stitches of white silk and lace. you felt every bit as naked as you were.

jake very clearly liked what he saw. “maybe you aren’t entirely worthless,” he said, reaching out to brush his hands over your figure. you shuddered.

he stepped back, pulling out his wallet. “alright, you can take it off. for now.” his smile was unsettling. “i’m buying it.”

something told you that that was nothing to celebrate.

after jake paid, you left the stores for good, and he held the bag himself. “tonight,” he whispered in your ear. “put it on. wait for me. i’m not asking.”

your throat dried, but you nodded your head. what else were you to do?

the rest of your day had been spent rearranging your closet, contemplating heavily what of the clothes you had already owned you would keep, and where to put the ones you couldn’t bring yourself to discard. walking in, you almost never walked out. though it was a time-consuming task, you took delight in shelving your shoes and hanging your clothes. it was distracting. 

it lent itself to being a great escape for the trouble which you knew in the back of your mind would find you before the night’s end, and every now and then, you would fleetingly glance back at the singular bag you had yet to open, afraid of its contents.

you wanted to hide. more than anything, you wanted to disappear beneath a mountain of armani tops and miu miu skirts and gucci loafers, concealed and covered, safe from all that sought to hurt you. but this was the reality that had been chosen for you, even if you hadn’t chosen it.

night fell too quickly. you had prayed for the sun to take its sweet time (even though you were aware it would purely mean delaying the inevitable, no real answer), but she, too, had something to hide from; the moon and the night.

you dressed yourself in the lingerie; you waited; your heart hammered against your chest and your stomach twisted.

jake knocked merely to announce himself and strutted in with his usual confident gait. he took out look at you sitting at the edge of your bed and whistled. “you’re so obedient when you want to be,” he praised. “are you learning, sweetheart? what happens when you don’t listen to me?”

you had no clue what would have happened, not specifically, but you were in no way inclined to find out. 

jake joined you on your mattress, sitting beside you. his warm hand wandered to your thigh and you felt your body lock with the wariness of a woman who had felt danger and recognized its emergence. “you’re still upset with me,” he pointed out. “for letting my friends touch you.”

your eyes closed, and you yearned to go anywhere but back to that moment. 

“believe me,” jake whispered, his rough fingers creeping higher, farther. “i didn’t want to. but you weren’t taking me seriously. so much disobedience, so much attitude. i figured you would learn then. and like always, i was right.”

“jake,” you called his name softly, light as a feather. “i don’t want to do this. what if my mom and your dad find out?”

jake brushed his thumb against your bottom lip. “if you keep that pretty mouth shut, they won’t.”

you swallowed harshly. something had to work. “but you’re my brother…”

jake completely dismissed your concerns. “exactly. i own you, remember? i can do whatever the hell i want with you. and if i want to fuck you til i can’t anymore, then i’ll do that.”

“i’m supposed to wait…”

jake groaned. “your future husband doesn’t have to know.” he lay you down on your back and mounted you, his knees on either side of your body as he bound you to the mattress by your wrists. 

“he’ll lie to you, you know,” jake murmured against your neck, pressing kisses there. “you can lie back and tell him that you’re a virgin. you think he’ll know the difference?”

you squirmed underneath his weight.

jake straightened up and smacked your hardly clothed cunt, declaring, “that’s a myth.”

you gasped out. as he drew back, jake admired the view of you sprawled out before him on the bed, the delicate designs of the lingerie teasing him just enough to evoke a carnal curiosity of a sort. your nipples were obscured, but he could see the upper and underside of your breasts, the soft, moistened surface of your stomach, and the plush, malleable flesh of your thighs.

“my god,” jake said in amazement. “where do i even begin with you?”

you didn’t answer, but that wasn’t a surprise to jake. you knew better than to spite him with words, and you knew they wouldn’t persuade him. jake paid attention to everything. that which he wanted to see, and that which he didn’t. and it was very obvious that you were anxious. “you don’t have to be nervous,” he assured you, his saccharine voice almost affectionate. “i’ll be gentle. relatively.”

his lips met your skin again, kissing your neck, your collarbone, your shoulders. he could have self-restraint when he so desired, and at the moment, he was summoning all of his willpower. he had this unwavering feeling that he would thank himself later.

you only wanted it to be over. there seemed no way around jake getting what he wanted, and though there was nothing stopping you from confiding in your mother, you had doubts about her backbone; even if she heard your concerns, you feared that she would ignore them if it meant preserving her marriage. you figured that was why she had you placate her husband’s child.

jake slipped his hand underneath the crotch of the lingerie and ran his fingers over your slit, testing the waters. dissatisfied, he slipped the fabric to the side and spat between your legs, using it as lubricant as he worked a finger inside. “need you to relax for me,” he murmured.

you weren’t sure how to relax; your body was uncalm and so was your mind, plagued with the reminder of how wrong this was and the memory of how crude the first touches your body received had been, both cementing you in a state of sheer weakness. you had always known, as every woman did, that your body was never truly your own, but this was unlike anything you had ever braced yourself for.

jake didn’t try to uncover the thoughts in your head just yet. he had no use for them. to him, the more pressing matter was the heat between your legs, and he was more preoccupied with stoking the flames.

your body tightened around his fingers as he stuck in another, the pair steadily collecting your moisture as jake tried to open you up for him. his eyes flitted over your body, tense as ever, and he shook his head, complaining, “you’re like a damn crab.”

you couldn’t help it. every inch of you was rigid. as you had come to know, jake got this dangerous look on his face whenever a lightbulb went off in his head, and now was no different. he never withdrew his fingers, but he crouched between your legs to flick his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

that got you jumping.

jake lapped at you as his digits moved inside you, working together to unravel you enough that you could take him. your hands gripped the bedding and your soft moans filled the rest of the silence that went untouched by the sound of your body slickening with unwanted arousal. you tilted your head and bit your lip, hoping to suppress your own noises. it was humiliating. 

jake was finally able to include a third finger with ease, and by that point, he was confident he had done ample work, but he kept going. the thought of what you would sound like when you came for him entered his mind with no intention of vacating, and he decided he would see it for himself.

you could feel it, the fire building rapidly in your core. jake sensed it too; your body was more restless and your breathing was heavier and some smaller details that weren’t lost on him. he smirked against your folds. “that’s it. don’t fight it, sunshine. just come for me.”

unable to keep your impending orgasm at bay, you trembled in climax at last, hiding your face in a pillow not only to smother your sounds, but to minimize your embarrassment. you clenched around his three, slender digits and your body eased despite yourself.

jake withdrew his slick fingers from your dripping cunt and sucked them into his mouth with a hum of delight. “now you’re ready for my cock.” he didn’t wait for you to respond. you watched with a speeding heart as he undid his clothes and suddenly realized how much more exposed you had been compared to him, how you were vulnerable and waiting.

jake grabbed a condom from the right side pocket of his fallen leather jacket and rolled it onto his hardened length. you squirmed when he got closer, but jake was unfazed, spreading your legs back apart and steadily making his way inside.

you quietly whimpered, “jake.” the stretch was unlike anything you had taken before, more intense then his fingers alone. you were wet enough to handle it, jake had made sure of that much, but no preparation could compare when you were so used to being empty.

jake took his sweet time. in a strange act of kindness, he extended his hand for you to hold, which you did. “i know,” he murmured, kissing your face. “i know, sweetheart. it’s okay. you can take it.”

you nodded your head, your hand never daring to leave his. 

jake watched your face as he gingerly coaxed himself deeper, your walls expanding around his girth. soft, high moans escaped him as he filled you to the hilt. you met his eyes for the first time, having somehow mustered the courage, and for a minute, something kept you from looking away.

sooner than later, jake had sheathed himself inside you completely, but he didn’t move yet. “there you go. i told you that you could take it,” he praised, cradling your cheeks in his hands. “does it hurt?”

most of your voice failed and you managed a tiny, “no.” on the contrary, there was an unusual pleasure in being filled by him. 

jake grinned. “good. i’m gonna start moving, okay? nice and slow.”

you wordlessly nodded your head. 

jake began to thrust in and out of you, dragging himself back and forth through your slick heat. the friction and the warmth of him was pleasant, and your pussy gushed around him with every movement. at the sound of your own wetness, you flushed and covered your face. “you’re so damn shy,” jake teased. he gently pried your hand away from your face. “don’t hide. i want to see that pretty little face showing me how good i’m making you feel.”

you shook your head, ashamed. you had always been told to wait. to lie beneath him in this manner felt forbidden and you knew it as surely as you knew the sun would come, but the knowing did not cease the feeling, and the feeling did not sate the knowing.

it didn’t help that jake had set a comfortable pace, his thrusts neither too fast nor too hard; they were long, deep strokes that filled you just right and allowed him to savor the way your pussy throbbed around and kneaded his cock for dear life. you were both making a mess of each other and you utterly despised it. 

jake was perceptive to a fault and he knew your shame was likely most of what kept you quiet. had your parents not been home, though they surely wouldn’t hear you when their own rooms were many yards away (though that didn’t account for maids and servants with busy mouths), he would have been less lenient. “i hate quiet sex,” jake grumbled. “talk to me.”

your face was hot and your ears burned. “i don’t know what to say.”

jake’s grin was smug. “that’s an easy fix. tell me how much you like me inside of you.”

you did like the feel of him inside of you. more than you cared to admit. the feeling of being full pleased you more than you had anticipated. “i… thought it would be worse,” you murmured.

that amused jake. “worse, huh? you thought i wouldn’t take care of you?”

“yeah,” you replied faintly. it seemed so unlike him, with how cruel he had been. 

jake leaned lower and caressed your face with his thumb. “if you act like a woman, i’ll treat you like a princess,” he crooned. then, he tugged at your hair and pulled you toward him, not enough to cause you any pain, but enough to draw a startled gasp out of you and make his threat clear. “if you don’t, i treat you like a peasant. understand?”

the words leapt out of your mouth. “i understand!”

“good girl,” he sang, releasing you. “you could make some man really happy one day, you know that?”

you peered up at him. your mouth wouldn’t close. “you think so?”

jake hummed. his hands cupped your breast and slowly but surely made their way to your hips as his thrusts slowed to a halt. the coldness of his rings made you shudder. “with practice,” he said, admiring the fucked-out looked on your face, his handiwork. “i see in you what my dad saw in my mom. you just need a little training. i could perfect you. would you like that?”

“well, i don’t…”

jake cut you off. “just think about it. imagine all the men lining up for you to have you on their arm. your mother would stop nagging you. she’d stop comparing you to your friend, too.”

those images flashed in your mind as they often did, the way men would gawk and stare and compete among themselves, vying for your hand in marriage. they would do their best to impress your stepfather, going to war to prove their worthiness. it was easy to imagine after having it described to you on more occasions than you could count, because when chaewon talked, it was your job to listen and support her. your heart clenched.

jake raised a brow, still smoothing his hands up and down your body. “did you think i didn’t know?”

you said nothing. jake seemed to know everything.

jake felt your body tensing beneath his hands, but if anything, it only spurred him on. “she gives you hell. you try so hard to please mommy, but nothing’s ever enough because you’re not her. and you compare yourself to every other girl in your circle because that’s what she does - pick you apart. so you sit there, ignorant in your ways, wondering if you’re just broken. i bet it’s exhausting.”

your eyes burned with unshed tears. “jake…,” you trailed off weakly. every word cut deeper than the last.

“i could make you into something even better,” jake whispered, his face so close to yours as his breath tickled your ear. when he said it like that, it sounded like a promise. “i could turn you into something beautiful that no one could resist and no one would deny. men will look at you and dream of making you their wife. mothers will look at you and back at their own daughters with scorn, wondering why they can’t be more like you. fathers will look at you and hope to god their son brings back a woman even half as wonderful as you could be.”

it felt like you were holding your breath and waiting to die. 

then, jake abruptly pulled back, straightening himself. “or not.” he shrugged his shoulders. “you could just commit to a life of constant critique and never satisfy anyone. you could keep convincing yourself that you don’t care. but every woman cares. it’s in your nature.”

without warning, he started moving again, and it knocked the breath out of you. he was closer now, hot on the tail of release.

jake’s voice was like silk. “do you want to be perfect, sweetheart?”

you needed it. you longed for it. you craved it more than anything. “yes,” you replied breathlessly.

“then, let me teach you how,” he said, simple as that. a great offer, void of charge. “let me make you perfect.”

you bobbed your head without hesitation, thoroughly sold, unconcerned with what you had given away. he was offering you everything you wanted on a silver platter and you had no intention of denying yourself the opportunity to be everything that everyone wanted.

jake smiled, and for once, he had nothing to say, either. but his face said it all; he was pleased. after a few more moments, his thrusts became somewhat sporadic, and after a few moments more, he leaned down and sank his teeth into the smooth flesh of your shoulder as he came, stifling his soft moans. your lips parted, but you didn’t complain; you knew that much better.

he took a moment to gather his bearings, but once his mind had cleared and his legs remembered how to serve him, jake pulled away and rose to his feet. “come on. let’s get you cleaned up.”

jake did most of the work, scrubbing you clean and holding you up when your body felt too weak to stand. you almost felt okay when you were back in bed, better than what you had initially feared. rather than used, you felt restless, eager to know and eager to become.

“good night,” jake said from your doorway. “get some rest. you deserve it.”

with that, he turned and left. you glanced down at your pristine, white sheets. there was a tiny red spot from where your bodies had been.

the day before your stepfather’s birthday, your mother took you with her to buy ingredients for his birthday cake. there was no need for her to go out, or to keep you in tow, for that matter, but your mother was nothing if not a perfect performer. 

“you look different,” she observed. 

that had your attention, and you immediately stood up even straighter than you already were. “do i?”

your mother hummed, pleasantly surprised. “yes. more sophisticated.”

grinning from ear to ear, you confessed, “i decided to try a different style.” 

your mother gave you a tiny smile of approval, placing her hand on your shoulder. “well, that’s excellent. it suits you better. i was starting to worry i’d made a mistake with you along the way somewhere. your daddy would be turning in his grave.”

your heart clenched at the mention of your late father, but you didn’t let it spoil the moment. 

turning the aisle, you mother asked, “don’t you want to know why i brought you here with me?”

you decided you would bite and guessed, “to spend quality time with your only daughter?”

your mother laughed. “to remind you of something. even being married to the richest man on the east side, i have certain things i do as a courtesy. i still have wife duties that my husband expects of me. when you marry a man of your own some day, you will understand. your husband will still expect you to raise his children, not a nanny.”

“ah,” you replied, bobbing your head. “of course, i understand that.”

“good. i don’t want you to hate me for being hard on you now, but i do it with faith that when the time comes, you’ll be prepared. becoming your mother has been the greatest blessing god has ever given me. he will give it to you, too.”

the inevitability of motherhood was something you had already long accepted, years before you could truly even understand what it meant. and maybe even now, you might not have totally known. “amen,” you agreed.

your mother pretended to be looking at her phone, checking her list of ingredients, but you noticed her glancing subtly at a man who had been not so discreetly throwing looks where you two stood at a shelf. she turned to you with a smirk that meant she was up to no good. “do you think he’s looking at you or me?”

you gawked and whispered, “mom, you’re married.”

“oh, please,” she mumbled, lightheartedly rolling her eyes. “marriage is security, honey. a man gets married to have an heir, and a woman gets married to have a man take care of her. it’s accomplished. it’s safety, not love.”

she sounded so sure. you thought of what chaewon had told you, about if her parents had married someone they liked instead. with time, maybe they could have grown to love each other. but first and foremost, marriage was a business proposal, and that was what you had always known.

as much as you loved your parents, you knew the love between them had always been scarce. they’d committed to their roles not out of love, but out of an obligation they thought had been given to them by god. your mother put it best. a man took care of a woman, and a woman took care of a man’s child. what he provided for, the woman nurtured. 

“besides, i’m just appreciating,” your mother replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “more importantly, your stepfather and i are going on a romantic husband-and-wife trip together in the maldives next week for his birthday, so it will just be you, jake and the servants in the house for two weeks. i trust that you can handle everything he needs. apparently, he really likes your cooking.”

“he’s never told me that,” you murmured. at first, you had just thought he liked to make you needlessly suffer.

“maybe he’s more the physically affectionate type. must run in the family,” she quipped. “oh, and i was told he took you shopping. how was that?”

you thought about it. to be fair, it had been a pleasant day. the staff were patient and kind and hard-working, and you had found all the new clothes, though some styles would be an adjustment, beautiful. there was the end of day, which you knew you could never mention a word of, but it hadn’t been what you dreaded it would be.

the answer you gave your mother was far less complicated, and you simply told her, “it was nice. he helped me pick out a few things. i guess we’re bonding.”

your mother put a hand over her heart. “oh, i’m so happy to hear that. i was worried that maybe you were too old to appreciate the gift of having an older brother.”

“honestly, i think i’m starting to appreciate it now more than ever,” you admitted softly.

“that’s beautiful. your stepfather told me you would eventually get along, but i had trouble believing it. well, i can breathe easier now,” she said, sighing with relief. “alright, let’s go get those damn eggs and get the hell out of here.”

that had been the intention, until she noticed someone whom she’d referred to as the director’s wife, most likely an affiliate of one of the charities she worked with. no sooner had she noticed her son was with her than she’d grabbed you by the arm and took you over to introduce you to him. to your delight, he seemed to like what he saw.

your stepfather’s birthday party seemed to be going as beautifully as any occasion intended to celebrate a man over half a hundred, part of which meant that most shares of the cake you and your mother had whisked together were quickly eaten by his nieces and nephews and the young children of the men he named friends.

it also meant that it was quite boring. in truth, the party was half celebration and half a fundraiser that welcomed many wealthy men and women across the country, supposedly meant to provide money for existing youth programs. whether or not it was being done in good faith, you knew better than to question. rather, you fulfilled your daughterly duties, greeting guests as they came.

throughout the course of the party, you received ample attention. it was weird, being recognized all of a sudden and directly approached. only last week, men seemed to whisper if they looked at you, and now businessmen in their thirties were flirting with you here and there, some older, and men with boys said how fitting you would be for their dear sons at home.

one man had talked your ears off about his boy child, a notable young fellow by word of how he’d been described, a decorated warrior. the man told you he’d speak with your father and perhaps try to arrange a meeting with the boy he’d promised could protect you and any children you birthed. though you doubted your stepfather would be too impressed, you’d shown him your best smile and told him how delightful it sounded.

that being said, you were of the opinion that it wasn’t as bad as you’d made it out to be. you were pleased with the attention, it made you feel confident, and you accepted the unpleasant parts as simply coming with the territory.

when you finally gained a moment of respite towards the middle of the party, you found a troubled chaewon at the end of a long table at the back of the grand hall. even she, for all her bubbliness, seemed over it. “you look thrilled,” you remarked ironically.

that brought a smile to her upturned lips. “i was just thinking.”

you were all ears. “yeah?”

“the human body is so smart and so dumb. we have seals underneath our fingernails to protect the nail bed from infection, but women still die giving birth.”

you blinked. then you laughed. “you chose a fine place to discuss this matter.”

chaewon smirked. “am i wrong?”

“the human body was never ordained by god to be immune to pain, you know,” you told her, not unkind. “it was ordained by him to sustain it. pain keeps us human, and more importantly, it keeps us alive and breathing.”

“a pain men don’t share,” chaewon murmured. 

you finished in a heartbeat, “a pleasure and privilege men don’t share too.”

chaewon groaned, but she wasn’t upset, not seriously. “you sound like my mother. and her mother.”

you raised your shoulders. “well, maybe there are lessons to learn from the wise and more experienced.”

chaewon scoffed. usually, she agreed with you on these matters, as it was all she had ever known, but you could sense a tension within her like no other. it plagued her. “look at you getting so smart.” she sighed, softening. “i guess i’m just scared of giving birth. i can handle the marriage stuff, i’ve always dreamed of it. but the second my parents start mentioning grandchildren and the baby talk, i want to disappear.”

you grabbed her hand, sympathetic. you may not have shared it, but it was a valid concern of hers, to be fair. “you’ve suffered a lot of loss in your family because of it. it makes sense that you’re scared,” you whispered, thinking of the late aunts and cousins she’d mourned. “but your mother was fine, wasn’t she? you might not have to share that fate. god will protect you.”

chaewon nodded her head. it was true, her mother had experienced little to no complications when she’d birthed her and her older brother. her eyes shone with hope as she replied, “you’re right. their fate isn’t mine.”

you squeezed her hand and smiled proudly. “there you go.”

something caught chaewon’s eye. her gaze drifted from your face and her grip on your hand tightened. when you heard a familiar dreamy sigh part her lips, you knew instantly what she had seen without looking. “i don’t envy you, you know.”

your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

“i’d hate to be his stepsister. i’d struggle to keep my hands off him,” she explained, probably conjuring up fantasies in her head. 

you faltered for half a second, but swiftly composed yourself when you saw jake coming.

“my dad sure knows how to bore somebody,” jake said when he came your way. “you ladies look lovely tonight.”

chaewon offered him her seat so that he could sit between you both. his words got a laugh out of her, though with how she was looking at him, she probably would’ve laughed if he joked about folding laundry. “thank you. we’re probably not the target audience. the older crowd seem happy.”

“oh, trust me. they are,” you droned. 

jake turned his head at you, grinning. “getting hit on by the fifty and up club, sister?”

you almost laughed. “nearly so. they seem to just think i’m a perfect match for their sons for now.”

jake was amused. “i guess they stop by you first then make their way on over to me to tell me that the future of greatness is in my hands.” he smiled and curled an arm around chaewon gingerly. “my feet are tired. would you mind getting me something to drink from the bar?”

chaewon rose to her feet without wasting time. “sure. what should i get you?”

“just tell them it’s for me. the guy’s a longtime caterer. he knows what i like.”

chaewon bobbed her head and somehow, even as she scurried away, it was with refinement and elegance and grace.

and then you were alone. jake sighed, leaning back in his chair. “are you enjoying the attention?” he asked, glancing over at you.

you smiled. it felt different than before. “yes. it makes me feel beautiful.”

jake didn’t skip a beat. “you are beautiful. with a little sophistication, you will be the most beautiful woman to ever grace the earth.”

sophistication. yes, refined and elegant and graceful. “where do i lack?” you needed to know. 

jake brushed a strand of hair behind your ears. “i spent a month with my family on my father’s side when i was little. his brother’s wife has many daughters. one thing i heard her tell them all the time was, ‘it only takes a moment to rouse a man’s excitement, but his fidelity? you will work at that for the rest of your life.’” jake smiled. “do you know where i’m going with this, sweetheart?”

you thought about it. “i have to be more than just a pretty face.”

“exactly,” jake sang. “things with no value go in the trash. men want a wife they can brag about. you’re beautiful and your stepfather is one of the most influential men in the world. notable achievements. what else?”

“i graduated top of my class,” you said, remembering the years of hard work that you had put into achieving strong academics.

“an educated woman,” jake said. “good. what else?”

“i’m good with kids,” you blurted. 

jake was grinning. he liked the sound of that. “amazing. men want children to continue their legacies. for that, they need a good woman to manage their households. what else?”

“i can sing, sew, cook, clean…,”

“you know what you’re missing?” jake interjected. he didn’t give you a chance to answer. “submission. for all the good things about you, sweetheart, you do have a mouth on you. it could do you some good to be more docile.”

maybe he was right. you had never considered yourself particularly unruly, but you were no idiot, and you knew when things were worth questioning. like the true meaning of this party, for that matter. but that did not mean you had to be the one to question it, and sometimes, closing your eyes and looking the other way was smarter.

chaewon was returning, her short black hair bouncing as she walked with that perfect smile. “here you are,” she said to jake, handing him over a glass.

“thank you, chaewon.” he took a tentative sip, judging for a moment, then hummed in satisfaction. “just the way i like it.”

your parents left the morning after the party, and jake had sent home all the housekeepers, leaving you with only yourself during the day while he tended to his father’s affairs at work, in his absence.

with the housekeepers gone, there would be things to do around the house, and you spent a morning compiling a list in your mind. the laundry would need to be taken care of. the main rooms managed, if there were guests. jake liked coffee in the morning, and he would expect to come back to dinner already waiting, no matter how late he returned home, which was sometimes long after the day’s end.

you managed to perfect your routine in seven days. wake up early enough so that his coffee was ready to grab on his way out. on wednesdays, he went in later, so you would need to wake up even earlier to prepare breakfast. he liked familiar foods for breakfast but more variety for dinner, so that was a factor when you were shopping. laundry was a sunday affair, and you had to ensure you didn’t use the detergent that irritated his skin.

one day in particular was different. jake hardly went in from thursday to sunday, and today was friday, so he was home.

over breakfast, he said, “riki nishimura, one of our japanese investors, is coming over this afternoon. if you don’t behave yourself, it’s not just me you disappoint, it’s our entire family. and your father.”

the mention of your father made your heart clench. “i understand.”

“see that you do.” he stood, taking up his plate. he set it in the sink, but didn’t wash it. he was expecting that of you. “breakfast was good. you’re handling this well.” with that, he turned and walked away.

after cleaning the kitchen, you went upstairs to freshen up and make yourself pretty. more often than not, you chose makeup that was subtle and complemented your natural features. peering into the closet that was brimming with clothes jake had hand-picked for you to wear, you settled on a dress that was flattering without being too formal.

it was maybe two hours before you were ready. you went to jake’s door, dressed in an outfit he had bought, smelling like the lotion and oil you had anointed yourself with after shower. your fist tapped his door.

when he came out, he was dressed differently too, as if he was preparing to go to work. his eyes flitted over your body. you waited for his approval with bated breath. it was only for a few seconds, but you swore it felt like minutes. “you look beautiful,” he said. his voice was absent of awe, but his eyes were appreciative.

you smiled, relieved. “thank you,” you said. “will he be here soon?”

“soon,” jake said, checking his watch. your mind wandered back to the watch with the leather band you had seen while shopping with chaewon. he went downstairs, and you followed him.

true to his word, riki nishimura did arrive shortly after. the two of them exchanged greetings. “let me take your coat, sir,” you said politely. 

“oh, thank you.” riki smiled, shrugged his coat off, and handed it over to you. you put it on the rack.

“this is my stepsister,” jake introduced. he told him your name. 

you grinned. “can i get you something to drink, mr. nishimura?”

“just some water would be wonderful,” he told you. “the sun’s blazing out there.”

jake made himself chuckle. “the summers are getting hotter.”

as you went to fix riki nishimura a glass of water, you could hear him talking to your brother as they stepped further into the foyer. “your sister is very well-trained,” he said.

jake laughed. this one had less of a performative quality. “we sims like everything in top tier condition, from our women to our products.”

the afternoon passed smoothly, and the meeting was a pleasant affair. you didn’t do much of anything, but you made it a point to be available. the two of them talked about business, and jake was his usual charming self, flashing smiles and saying all the right things. you followed their dialogue but didn’t comment.

it was maybe about forty five minutes until riki nishimura left and you returned his coat to him, helping him slip it back on. he looked relaxed and confident in the matters they’d discussed. you closed the door behind him on his way out, and turned to jake who looked pleased himself. “you were perfect,” he said. 

your eyes sparkled. “really?”

jake had a twinkle to his eyes as well, admiring his handiwork. “you were poised. servile without being too obsequious. he noticed.”

he’s proud of me, you thought, your heart feeling light. “thank you,” you said.

“for what?” he was literally asking. 

“for making me better,” you whispered. “for showing me how to be a proper woman.”

jake ran his finger over your face. “you’re welcome,” he said softly. “your father would be proud.”

it was the single most powerful thing he could have said. you really hoped so. nothing mattered more, nothing at all.

when the days passed, you hardly noticed the time lost. there were many things around the house that needed to be taken care of, and it was by no means a small estate, so your work was often cut out for you. you told yourself it was nothing you couldn’t bear on your own. you were the daughter of the most powerful man in the country, and this was your first test to see if you could handle the privilege and honor.

all you had to do was keep jake happy. it wasn’t as if you had children to raise, so it ought to have been simple enough.

and at moments when you had spare time to think, your mind wandered to what jake was doing at work, if the company was giving him a hard time. here and there he would come home particularly agitated, but you knew nonetheless that he would prosper. you applied the same principle; if he was not able to bear his father’s responsibilities in his absence, there was no way he could run the company when the baton was passed.

that was nothing to worry about though. jake was smart and competent. he had purified you with ease, made you the woman your father had known you could be, and it had taken him little to nothing. he was a man that you could depend on, and for that, you wanted to prove that he could rely on you to do what he expected as well. you had to.

the day had become night, and darkness settled around the house. you lit candles in the kitchen to create the feeling of an intimate moment. jake was on the phone as you set the table. “oh, that’s wonderful. how long are you staying?” you watched him with curious eyes as he took his seat. “no, no, not at all. i can handle the company. it won’t burn down if you take a few more weeks off.”

so that’s what it was. your parents were extending their getaway.

“it is beautiful,” jake said, sounding as if he was agreeing with something. “stay. you deserve it. make sure you appreciate how blue the water is before you come back and see murky everything is in the city.” jake laughed. “yes, she’s well. she’s plating dinner as we speak. she’s been doing a remarkable job.” 

your heart fluttered. you set the utensils down in a careful order. he’s talking about me.

“alright. call me when you have lunch. have a good night,” he said at last, hanging up. “pass me the salt.”

it was an equal distance away from him as it was from you, but you handed it over regardless.

he shook some grains into his food. “you know,” he said. “we’ve got a lot of time together. looks like mom and dad aren’t coming home until next month.”

“i heard,” you said. “did you ask them to take pictures of the water?”

“no,” jake said. he picked up his fork. “i’m sure your mom will anyway. she’d take pictures of the lake we see every day leaving the house.” he laughed at himself.

it occurred to you then that you hadn’t left the house at all since the party, not even to go shopping. your mother might have liked to go out herself sometimes, if not out of a genuine preference for doing things herself than out of sense of duty to perform it, though your stepfather himself did not seem to expect it of her. he cared less about who did the shopping and how and more about what time dinner would be prepared.

you had spoken to chaewon since that night, but every exchange was sparse and fleeting. you were too busy as of late, and certainly she had her own affairs to attend to.

“would it be okay if i invited chaewon over someday?” you asked. jake hung out with his friends plenty enough. he never said so, but why else would he come home so late smelling of alcohol?

“chaewon,” he repeated. jake hummed, mulling it over. “fine. you’ve been good.”

you beamed. it would be good to see her again. “thank you,” you said, remembering his lessons. submission.

jake chuckled. “don’t thank me yet. nothing is for free.”

after dinner, you washed the dishes, wiped the table, and then at last withdrew to your bedroom to cleanse yourself. you had chosen a silky black nightgown to wear to bed, but first anointed your skin with lotion to make it especially soft for him tonight.

jake appeared in your doorway moments later and welcomed himself inside. “are you ready for me, sweetheart?” he didn’t wait for you to answer. his hands cupped your breasts through your gown, eager to feel what was his.

it did you no good not to be ready; he would take what he wanted regardless. you tensed a bit at first, but willed yourself to relax. the contact took some getting used to, but you didn’t want to displease him. perhaps by the time your future husband was due to take you, you would be prepared enough not to be so fidgety. “yes,” you whispered.

oddly enough, jake didn’t speak right away. for a moment all you could hear was his breathing and the sound of your nightgown rustling as he kneaded your breasts through the fabric. your lips parted ever so slightly when his thumbs brushed repeatedly against your nipples.

“still so restless. guess that means i just have to fuck you till you get comfortable.” his hands dropped to his sides. “but not tonight. get on your knees.”

your brows furrowed, but you did as told.

“look at you,” he crooned, brushing his fingers through your hair. “right where you belong. you look so pretty.”

your lashes fluttered. “thank you.”

“don’t thank me yet,” he said for the second time. “take my pants off.”

he hadn’t decompressed for the day yet beyond dinner, so instead of his casual wear, he was sporting the clothes he’d worn into the office. you undid the belt buckle and slipped it off, undid his fly, and let his pants fall down to his ankles.

you had been about to reach for his underwear too when his hands gripped yours. “suck,” he said.

your lips tugged. “but you’re not…”

a smack rang out in the air. “did i tell you to comment on my state of undress or did i tell you to suck?”

you reached up to hold your sizzling cheek. “i’m sorry…”

jake was annoyed. “don’t be sorry. do what i told you to fucking do. if you can’t please me, you’ll never please any man.”

you pressed your lips against the outline of his half-hard cock through his boxers. you hadn’t expected this to be what he wanted, you thought it would be more like the first night he took you, but you supposed there were many ways to please a man, and a good wife should be skilled at them all.

“there you go,” he said. “lick me. do it like you’re fucking starving for it.”

your tongue darted against the dent in his pants, licking, swirling, sucking, your world narrowing to the taste of cotton and your own saliva. you wished you would have known the sort of favor he wanted. you might have looked online for some tips, anything that would temper this sense of aimlessness that accompanied your fear of arousing disappointment rather than lust. 

jake moaned, though, his fingers tightening in your hair with need instead of violence for now. that noise was a light in the dark for you, and you followed it, repeating whatever stroke of your tongue had given him pleasure with a touch more of confidence.

the floor was rough against your knees, but you would bruise them both a million times over if it meant he was satisfied. because if he was satisfied, it meant you were doing something right.

“just like that. good.” his words were breathy. a wet spot had formed in his pants from the combined dampness of your saliva and his precum.

you could still feel the faint burn on your cheek where his palm had whacked you, but the pain had taken a backseat to his pleasure, so it was a distant thing in the moment. the first tests started at home. you would give favors many times once you were married, so it was best to get good at it early. thank goodness jake was such a thorough teacher, keeping you disciplined.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned. you figured his body was of a more sensitive nature, so even through his underwear he must have felt these sensations sharper than most.

his cock had reached total erection, and you had felt it growing against your skin with every warm touch. you remembered how it had felt inside you at first, the size so overwhelming you had bled after. it hadn’t hurt per se, but the stretch was so unusual you had nothing to compare it to. and jake had been courteous and kind, so it was not as unbearable as you had imagined.

more importantly, your body had given him immense pleasure, and you were of a mind to keep it that way, thinking of how you would drink less at the next gala and eat better than was normal for you and wear more of the clothes and undergarments he so loved, as you were memorizing the colors and outfits and fabrics that were pleasant to his senses and tastes…

“take my cock out,” jake said. “i want you to suck me now. and i don’t want to feel any teeth.”

your hands reached for his boxers and tugged them down to reunite with his pants. his cock sprung free, already leaking and aching for you to the finish the job. you took only a little bit into your mouth at first, intimidated by the remaining length. how could this all fit into your mouth?

jake didn’t offer answers, but he did offer moans, which in a way was an answer in and of itself. you kept that motion up for as long as you could, but when you started to take him deeper, your throat rejected it and you gagged. you pulled off him, tears burning your eyes.

when jake sighed, you feared he would strike you again, but instead he grabbed one of your hands and made you curl it around his cock. “keep your hand here.” he moved the other beneath it to the bottom. “move this one up and down. like that. good. now try it again.”

your lips sealed around his cock again, your dominant hand stroking his cock all the while, the two working in tandem to deliver the high he was seeking. you focused on your breathing more than anything, because it felt like that was where things started to go wrong.

jake’s hand cupped yours, demonstrating to you how to squeeze his cock, and from there it was relatively smooth sailing. every now and then you would go up to let yourself breathe through your mouth, but you tried not to do it too long, or too often, lest it disturbed him.

“there you go. you’re getting the hang of it,” he said. you could see the way his chest was rising and falling, falling and rising. “look me in the eyes while you suck my dick.”

you did. in the beginning it was an awkward thing, meeting his gaze when you were doing something so intimate, but you didn’t dare look away. he had given you a task, and you intended to see it through no matter what. everything else had to be temporarily set aside.

jake reached down to tug the top of your nightgown and expose your breasts to him, the sight stimulating him even more. he squeezed them as he done before, only this time without the barrier to keep you from noticing how warm his hands were. his fingers brushed your nipples. it was almost distracting, but you summoned all your willpower to keep yourself focused on what was most important.

the sound of you sucking him was wet and lewd, but you supposed jake had like that, because here and there he would mutter things under his breath about how beautiful you looked and sounded on your knees before him. you remembered he’d said he hated quietness during intimate acts. perhaps the next time he took you you should make yourself especially loud for him. he would appreciate that. “i’m gonna come,” he grunted. “faster.”

you obliged, setting a new pace that was quicker and harder to maintain than the other, but it wasn’t so bad; in a few moments, he would be finished. in a few moments, you could say you were beginning to acquire another skill, and only jake could speak to what extent, but you were hopeful he would be content…

“fuck,” jake hissed. he’s liking it. he likes it. you hoped he would finish soon. you felt your mouth growing tired, and you didn’t want to anger him by stopping now of all moments, now when he was so close to the finish, right there…

jake came at last, spilling into your mouth with a shrill sound and an abrupt forward drive of his hips. his eyes snapped closed and he used your mouth until every bit of his high began to fade.

when they opened at last, he was demanding. “swallow.” the taste was bitter, but you made yourself do as he bade you, swallowing his warmth until there was no more. only then did he withdraw from your mouth. 

“now you can thank me,” he said. “thank me for letting you suck my cock.”

your eyes darted away awkwardly. “thank you for… letting me you suck your cock.”

he grabbed your chin. “look at me,” he barked. “now say it again.”

you met his eyes. “thank you, jake. for letting me suck your cock.”

jake smiled. “good girl.” he fixed his clothes. “i expect breakfast tomorrow.”

“yes, jake.”

“and you need more practice, but not tonight. we’ll work on it some more later.”

“okay, jake.” satisfied, he walked away.

you woke late.

most days you would have set an alarm to gather you out of your sleep, but you must have been so tired last night that you’d forgotten. you scrambled out of bed, making a quick effort of washing up before you scurried downstairs to the kitchen. this would be one of those days where jake wanted an entire meal instead of just coffee.

that said, you started with his coffee first, then hurried to get every ingredient out of its place. maybe jake would wake up late too. maybe he wouldn’t notice. you were pulling a pan out of the cabinet when you heard footsteps descending down the stairs. your heart raced.

jake called out your name. you couldn’t even see his entire body yet, but you could hear him. “why don’t i smell bacon?”

“i’m… i’m working on it,” you said, glancing over at the raw bacon on the counter.

“you’re working on it.” far too soon, jake made it downstairs and crossed his arms when he saw you standing there, nothing going except the coffee. “shouldn’t you be about done by now?”

you couldn’t meet his eyes. “i woke up late.”

“you woke up late.” jake laughed. “you woke up late?”

you nodded, looking at the floor.

your shoulders went cold when he began to approach you. he seized your face abruptly and made you look at him. “can you not do one simple thing? you think a man wants a wife who can’t even have his breakfast ready when he wakes up and his dinner ready when he gets home?”

“no,” you whispered, eyes blurring with shame. “i’m sorry, jake. it won’t happen again.”

he smacked your face, the same side that he’d struck last night. “see that it doesn’t,” he said. “how many times do i have to tell you? where do things with no value go?”

your voice was a whimper. “in the trash.”

“and are you trash?”

“no, i’m not trash...”

“as long as you’re a part of my family, damn right you’re not,” jake said. he released you. “pour me a cup of coffee.”

so you did. after jake had had his coffee,  he took your face in his hands and asked, “you know i only do this because i love you, right?”

you sniffled. “really?”

“of course,” jake crooned. he brushed the tears from your eyes. “why would i bother trying to fix you if i didn’t love you? i want what’s best for you, baby. and sometimes what’s best for you is a little discipline. i don’t know what you would do without me. no one else is going to be this patient with you. the rest of the world will you chew you up and spit you back out.”

you nodded. “i know.”

“good. now dry your eyes and get back to work, okay?” he went to go sit at the island.

that day made you realize that you couldn’t afford to keep making mistakes, especially ones that you were beyond capable of preventing. to be the best that you could be, to truly live in your father’s image, you had to go above and beyond in exceeding expectations.

it would make your father proud. it was making your mother proud too, and you had thought she was impossible to please. and it made jake proud, as your brother and as your teacher, the lines blurring as they should when it came to the realization of the perfect girl. at times, nothing mattered more.

over the coming weeks, as the responsibilities came and went and came and went again, you found yourself drawn back to those words he’d said, like a vessel that wants to drift away but is anchored where it floats. you know i only do this because i love you. it had been so long since you heard anyone say that. your father not since his passing, your mother not since god knows when.

i only do this because i love you. you hadn’t known, but now that you did, the thought kept to you like a spirit housed to a man. there was such strangeness. you had never before thought words of that nature would come from jake and onto you, but perhaps you didn’t know him as well as you thought. but things were different than they had been some months ago. did he change, or did you change? did you become a person deserving of love, or did he become a person willing to express it?

you supposed it mattered little now. i love you. you had his love, his care, and you knew what you had to do to maintain it. now that you knew you had it, you would do whatever it took to keep it. no price was too high.

after that day, you began practicing to please jake in the future so that you would be less of a disappointment. you ordered a toy so that you could train your throat to take him better. it was hard at first. every time you did it your mouth instinctively wanted to gag. but you had to perfect it, you had to get it right so that you would be perfect for him.

you practiced arching your back in the mirror, wanting to get the curve of your spine just right. you practiced perfecting your moans so that they were loud and breathless enough for his ears. you spent hours analyzing pornography to enact the things you saw other women do. the next time jake took you, you had to be the very best you could. failure was not an option. 

there were weeks before chaewon finally had enough time to fit you in her schedule, and when the rolled around that you knew she would be coming over, you were terribly excited.

she was about twenty minutes out when jake entered your room and came up behind you where you were bent over your bed, scrolling. “i need something from you real quick, baby,” he said, his hands drifting underneath your skirt.

“jakey, no,” you said softly. “chaewon’s gonna be here soon.”

clearly it was the wrong thing to say. “no?” jake repeated. “no?”

you swallowed. “i only meant…”

he didn’t care to hear your explanations. “did you just tell me no?”

“jake, please, i…”

“i think you’re confused about who’s in control here,” jake said. he spun you around to face him. “do i belong to you?”

“no….”

“do i answer to you?”

you sniffed. “no, jake…”

“so then why the fuck—” he started, his face getting closer to yours. “—do you think you get to tell me no?”

“i don’t think that, jake, i-i made a mistake, i’m sorry-”

“you’re the fucking mistake if you think you have the power to tell me what i can or can do. if i want to fuck you right now, i will. if i want to fuck you in front of chaewon, i will. if i want to fuck you on the streets of tijuana and make you a public spectacle, i fucking will.”

your eyes burned.

his hand wrapped around your throat and tightened there. “if you hang out with your friends, that’s because of me. if you wear a pretty dress you like, that’s because of me. if you get married, that’s because of me. if you breathe, that’s because of me. do you understand? nod if you do.”

you nodded your head urgently, eyes wide.

jake released your throat. “good. now turn around.”

he took you there against your bed. it hurt badly, but you knew that you deserved it, so you didn’t complain, and when he was done, you silently retreated to the shower to wash away the traces of what had happened from the eye, even if you could still feel the ache within you.

your neck bruised from where he had seized it into his hand, and that was something that wouldn’t simply wash away with water. you changed into a turtleneck to conceal it, fixed your hair, and made yourself smile. this was how he would want you to look.

chaewon looked even prettier than the last time you saw her. “my brother’s getting married,” she announced when you both got settled in your room. 

“really?” 

she nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “yes, really! it’s official as of last night. he really likes rosie.”

“i couldn’t tell,” you said. jaehyun had been with her for the better part of eight years, and only now did he think to drop on one knee. “i mean, what took him so long?”

“i mean, my brother is a little different than most guys. he takes stuff slow. that’s his thing.” chaewon shrugged. “the guy’s a total romantic.”

“i mean, but don’t you think that’s weird?” you asked. “if a guy waited eight years to propose to me, i’d think he was ashamed of me or something.”

“if he was ashamed of her, he wouldn’t marry her at all,” chaewon told you. “or meticulously pick out what ring to propose to her with, or where to do it, or rehearse his lines in his room every day for weeks in advance.”

“i guess,” you conceded. “i just think that’s a long time.”

“forever’s a long time too, and that’s how long people hope to be married,” chaewon said. “what’s an eight year slice of forever?”

“you say things so weirdly.”

“it’s a talent of mine,” chaewon chirped. “you’re invited, by the way. obviously. your plus one can be whoever you want, but i really hope you bring jake.”

you rolled your eyes. “give it up to god, chae.”

“i can’t!” she clasped her hands together. “please, please, please? for me? i really want him there.”

“why? it’s not even your wedding.”

“obviously,” she agreed. “if it was my wedding, he’d be there as the groom.”

your stomach clenched. “but like… what do you even like about him? you can’t just marry him because you think he’s handsome.”

“he is so handsome,” chaewon said dreamily. “but he’s also very witty and intelligent. i like talking to him. you don’t understand the importance of good conversation, of talking to someone who knows how to respond to you and meet you where you are.”

he was witty. sometimes. “so… you like him because he’s handsome and can hold a conversation?”

“and he’s a perfect gentleman,” she breathed.

“i guess that’s reason enough.”

chaewon grinned. “and if you invite him as your plus one, i might get the chance to get to know him even better.”

“our brothers barely even like each other,” you reminded her. why, you had no idea, but they just never seemed to click as well as you and chaewon had. “why would my brother even go to jaehyun’s wedding?”

“because you’re gonna ask him nicely,” she retorted. “please?”

you exhaled a breath. “i’ll mention it to him later.”

“yay!” chaewon threw her arms around you. “you’re the bestest best friend ever.”

the day passed in a blend of talking, gossiping, and laughing. before you knew it, you had all but forgotten the incident earlier, and remembered what it felt like to be alive, even if for a short while.

at night, you and chaewon showered, and fell asleep together in your bed.

it must have been late when you suddenly woke again with a sudden thirst. you rolled over in your bed and felt the emptiness beside you and remembered that chaewon was supposed to have been there. maybe she’s gone to the bathroom.

you opened the door and made for the stairs. but as you started the descent, you started to hear… noises. strange noises. noises that were unfamiliar in their familiarity.

“shh, baby,” you heard jake’s voice whispering. “you don’t want to wake her, do you?”

you couldn’t see chaewon at all, but you faintly heard her say something that sounded like, “no, i’m sorry. you just feel too good.”

jake chuckled. “don’t be sorry. just be quiet.”

your chest was so tight you thought you might die.

their voices might have been quiet, but their bodies weren’t. you could hear the sound of him driving into her, of her hands scrambling for purchase, of their breathing finding a rhythmic sync, of jake taking a pleasure that had nothing to do with you.

and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

it was too much. you forced yourself to turn away and creep back up the stairs as quietly as you had come down. you returned to your bedroom and threw the blankets over yourself, your pillow dampening bit by bit.

chaewon was chipper the next morning, very chipper. before she left, she offered to help you make breakfast for jake. you waited to see if she would mention their tryst, but she didn’t at all.

it was supposed to be a secret then. something between her and him that you weren’t in on, that you weren’t a part of.

when she left, you went to your bathroom and began to wipe off the concealer you had used to hide the bruises jake had given you from her. they were darker than they had been yesterday. she didn’t want him. you knew that to be a certainty. if she knew what it truly was like to be his, beyond marveling at his handsome face and witty words and willingness to pull out a chair here and there, she would crumble like a house in a tropical storm.

but you, on the other hand, were strong and enduring. you could take it. you could take anything he gave you, not just when it was pleasant, but when it burned. you could take it and know that it was beautiful, that it was a display of love, strength, and growth.

chaewon had been born shining. she had no idea what it was like to be pressed into a diamond, to earn everything beautiful about herself. she had no idea what it was like to be shaped by his hand. she had no idea what it was like to be his creation, to be exactly as he intended.

but you did. and that was why you knew no one else could satisfy him, even if he made the mistake of seeking out other temporary delights. no candy was as sweet as the one made purely by your own hand, because it was yours.

you knew you had displeased him yesterday, a slip of the tongue that would never happen again, but you had pleased him the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. you planned to do so for eternity. jake, forever yours, you, forever his, in a condition of perpetual devotion.

and forever started today.

“hello?” came the voice on the other end of the phone, gruff and confused.

“hi, jay,” you sang.

“this is a surprise,” jay murmured. you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “change your mind about me?”

“not at all, no,” you said. “do you think my friend chaewon is pretty?”

“chaewon,” he repeated. “do i think she’s pretty? i think she’s gorgeous, everyone knows she’s gorgeous. why?”

“what if i told you that she leaves bible study every wednesday at eight, stops at becky’s at eight twenty, gets gas at eight thirty, and she’s home by nine.”

there was a lull of silence. “why are you telling me that?”

you continued, “she has a bad habit of looking at her phone while she’s walking, she wears noise-cancelling while she’s waiting in becky’s up until the moment she gets back in her car, and sometimes she forgets to lock it.”

jay said your name. “is this a fucking joke?”

“nope,” you chirped. “dead serious. she’s that stupid.”

“i thought she was your friend.”

“i thought she was too,” you said. “but i thought wrong.”

jay laughed. he didn’t ask what happened. he didn’t care. “so, let me get this straight. you guys had a cat fight, and now you want me to… what? brutalize her in the becky’s parking lot?”

“i don’t care what you do,” you said, “as long as she suffers. deal or no deal?”

“damn,” jay said. “i’ll think about it, princess. i gotta go, though.”

“think about it quickly.” you hung up. wednesday was approaching.

you didn’t agonize over whether or not he would do it. guys like jay couldn’t resist themselves. instead you busied yourself with tasks around the house, keeping jake happy, keeping him satisfied, keeping him yours.

the next time you saw chaewon was in the hospital. “what happened?” you asked as you came to her side, brows stitched. 

“i was leaving becky’s,” she said, her voice small. she looked small. her lips and cheeks were bruised, and there were other marks scattered across her figure. and yet somehow she was still annoyingly fucking beautiful. “but then some guy came up behind me when i was leaving… and… and…” she couldn’t continue. her eyes became wet. 

you squeezed her hand. “hey, hey. it’s okay. it’s okay. you’re safe now.”

her bruised lips were quivering. “it hurt so bad.”

“i know,” you whispered. “did you see what the guy looked like?”

chaewon shook her head. “i didn’t see anything. one second i was alone and the next he was there. i tried to get away but he was too strong. and the cameras out there haven’t been functioning in ages.”

“he won’t get away with this,” you told her. “do you understand that?”

chaewon nodded. 

you smiled. “good. i have to go. my parents are coming back today and i want to be home before they do. i’ll come back to visit you again tomorrow. will you be okay?”

“i think so,” she whispered.

“alright. i love you, chae.”

“i love you too,” she whispered. 

first problem taken care of.

at home, you went straight to jake’s room. the door was already open so you let yourself inside. “jake?” you called. 

jake looked up from his phone. he had been sitting on his bed, scrolling. “hey. chaewon okay? she’s not in too bad shape, is she?”

“who gives a fuck?”

jake paused. then he laughed, perhaps thinking it was a joke. “you…? i mean, aren’t you guys best friends?”

“not anymore.”

jake tilted his head. “you guys get into a fight in the two seconds between her coming over and now?”

“i know what you did,” you announced levelly. 

jake was quiet a moment. “what are you talking about?”

“don’t do that, jake. i heard you,” you said. “i heard you with her in the kitchen.”

jake sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “look-”

you cut him off. “i know i made a mistake. i know you were angry at me. i understand.” you stepped closer, shutting the door behind yourself as you entered the room entirely. “i know i deserved to be punished. but was what i did so wrong that you had to replace me?”

“sweetheart, i-”

“you didn’t do it to hurt me,” you said. “i know you didn’t, because you didn’t want me to know. if you wanted to hurt me, you would have wanted me to see. so then you must truly have meant to replace me, to find someone better than me…”

“if you would let me-”

“but she’s not better than me!” you snapped. “she’s not! and i wish everyone would stop treating her like she’s some perfect princess just because she smiles prettily when she’s hardly a real woman! a real woman wouldn’t fear giving birth! a real woman would trust god!”

you knew you were getting out of line, but you needed him to hear you. this was worth any punishment he could conceive.

“i shouldn’t raise my voice. strike me if you must,” you told him, standing in front of him now, between his legs, perfectly within arms reach. “if you would choke me, i’m ready.” you tugged your shirt over your head to give him better access to your throat. “but she doesn’t deserve you. she doesn’t have what it takes to be your woman. she wouldn’t do these things for you. i know because i’ve spent almost my whole life since first grade by her side and she’s always expected everything to be easy. she has no idea how to face anything she thinks might be hard.”

you brought his hand to your neck, where the bruises were fainter now, but still visible, the colors blooming across your neck. “she wouldn’t see this as what it is,” you whispered, not once looking away from his eyes. “a gift. a honor. a privilege. she would think it’s monstrous. but it’s not. it’s beautiful. it’s a milestone.”

you smiled. “that’s why i had to teach her a lesson.”

“baby,” jake said slowly. “what did you do?”

“i had jay pay her a visit.”

“what?” 

you nodded. “please don’t be angry,” you whispered. “i did it for you.”

jake’s hand didn’t fall away from your throat, but it was very loose. “for me?”

“yes. for you. for us. because i love you. because you said you loved me.”

“i do love you,” jake said, running his spare fingers through your hair.

“so why did you do that?” you asked. your eyes were misty, and soon your cheeks were dampened. “am i not good enough? did i do something wrong? i can fix it, jake, i swear. i can be better. you just have to tell me. i’ll do anything.” you dropped to your knees. “i can fix it, jake,” you said again, peering up at him desperately. “let me fix it. please. i don’t want to be trash.”

“how do you plan on fixing it, baby?” jake murmured.

“i’ll show you,” you said. you began to tug down his pants. “i’ll do better this time. i promise. i’ve been practicing, like you said.”

jake looked genuinely surprised. “you’ve been practicing for me, baby?”

“yes,” you admitted. “i wanted to make you proud.”

“i’m so proud of you, my girl,” jake said. he patted your head. “show me what you can do.”

my girl. his girl.

at first, you mirrored the last encounter together where he’d had you on your knees, kissing him through his boxers. he had liked that, you remembered. you spread your tongue along the fabric and sucked the head as if there was no barrier.

you continued that just long enough to get him worked up before doing away with the boxers and discarding them into oblivion, but you paid the head of his cock no mind. instead you dragged your tongue again now along his shaft, up and down, down and up. you heard his breath hitch, and that was all the encouragement you needed.

tonight, you were determined to get this right. you couldn’t lose him to someone else, least of all her.

the next time you licked up his shaft, you started another descending path, except this time you were peppering sweet, soft kisses, a gesture that was tender and loving, more than he knew. your lips found their way from just shy of his head to his balls. you took one into your mouth gingerly, not wanting to overstimulate him.

“fuck,” jake swore. “you trying to kill me, baby?”

your giggles were stifled. while your mouth was preoccupied with that, you stroked his cock in your fist. he was so hard now, it never took long. you could feel the blood burning within your hand, his cock hot and stiff with excitement. that’s it. that’s how much he wants me. that’s how much he needs me.

whether he knew it or not, he needed you, just as you needed him. you could see it clearly now. the two of you were fated, and now you had reached a point where it was truly undeniable on your part, where the truth stood tall, a roaming giant, every resistance being crumbled underfoot. the past never mattered. you could forgive his sins if he forgave yours.

those days where you had not yet understood what it earnestly meant to be a woman, where you had believed he was a terror that some entity had cursed you with, those were the days of your naivety at its purest. it was like if chaewon had seen those marks on your neck; she would think they were some an immortal act, she wouldn’t realize it was a gift, a token of love, of care, of how much jake wanted to see you prosper.

at last when you felt the growing tension in jake’s body amass to a peak, you let yourself take the head of his cock into your mouth, though without any particular haste. 

jake shuddered, the sensation worth the anticipation and then some. “oh, shit.”

seeing him react so strongly made your body burn with urges of its own, but those were secondary. what was paramount was making him understand, proving to him that you were the woman he had made of you.

“you taste so good, jakey,” you briefly pulled away to tell him. “i missed your cock so much.” not a moment later, you were back to sucking him.

jake groaned. “yeah? i can tell you miss it. you really have been—holy shit—practicing.”

you moaned around his cock, and it must have done something, because the noise that came out of him made your thighs tense.

“don’t stop,” jake gasped. “fuck, just like that, baby, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

you were determined to unravel him, to please him more than anyone ever had and ever could, to stake your claim to the man you knew with your whole heart was yours by right, even if you’d never hear the words come out his mouth. this was evidence enough. the way his body responded to you, the things you were making him say, that was a power of its own, and power was the most important thing in this world.

and if men were the heads of power, but you had dominion over his body, what did that say about you?

jake said your name. he rarely did, it was usually a petname, something sweet and meaningless, but this was yours. “god, i’m gonna fucking come.”

it was fun to see his body speak for him, to watch it convey things that words like pleasure never really could. his hips jolted as his cum emptied inside your mouth, hot and salty and meant for you. even as that was happening, his hands were clenched into the sheets, and his voice was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. 

you swallowed it all, not letting a single drop go to waste, and when you were done, you remembered your words. “thank you, jake, for letting me suck your cock,” you whispered, meeting his eyes as you licked some of his release from your lips.

jake blinked silently. then he laughed. “fuck. you’re so welcome, princess.”

you got up from your knees and sat on the bed. “can i ride you?”

jake raised his brow, amused. “you think you can handle that?”

“i know i can.”

“confident,” jake murmured. he lay back. “sure, ride me. but if you get tired and ask me to take control, i swear to god…”

“that won’t be a problem,” you promised.

jake chuckled. “if you say so. grab a condom.”

“we don’t need it,” you said as you undid your bra and skirt. “i’m not afraid of the consequences. i’m not afraid of what it means to be a woman.”

jake’s face fell. “baby, if you get pregnant, that could get us in a world of trouble.”

“i’m not afraid,” you insisted.

“and that’s brave,” jake said, “but imagine what your mom would think.”

“i don’t care,” you blurted. “i want to marry you and have your babies.”

“whoa. okay,” jake said, visibly reeling. “we can do that, i promise. after we’re married. deal?”

you nodded. “okay. deal.”

jake exhaled a breath. “great. now go get a condom out of that drawer and show me how much you want my cock.”

you did as told, fetching a condom from the supply he had in his nightstand drawer. as you were rolling it down his shaft, you whispered, “can we pretend?”

jake smiled. “yes, princess. we can pretend.”

you shed the very last of your clothes and mounted jake’s lap. “i want your cock so badly, jakey.” you sank down onto him, inch by inch, bit by bit. “don’t you feel it?”

jake moaned. your pussy was gushing around his cock, wet and warm and tight. his hands went to your hips. “shit, babe. all that from sucking me off?”

you nodded. “i like making you feel good.”

jake closed his eyes. “i like that you like making me feel good.”

nothing could have been better or more important. you would have done this every day if he so asked. you would have gotten on your knees for him, or perhaps your hands and knees, or your back, or bent over whatever surface he preferred that day, or mounted him as you were now, none of it mattered. you were a good woman, and so you could please him whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted, however he wanted it.

surely chaewon couldn’t say the same. chaewon was just a pretty face. beyond that, she was empty. you pitied whatever man would realize that only after he had made her his wife, but that man would not be yours.

“do i feel better than her?” you asked.

jake didn’t hesitate. “so much better,” he said. “i don’t know what i was thinking, baby. i could never replace you. you’re perfect.”

that warmed your heart. “you mean that?”

“of course, beautiful,” jake said. “look at you. look how good you’re taking my cock right now. you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“uh huh,” you agreed. that’s right. i know what he likes.

“nobody’s ever made me feel the way you do,” he said breathlessly. “you were made for me.”

for you, by you.

“i was made for you,” you echoed, bouncing on him harder. your boobs followed suit.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” jake swore. he took your boobs into his hands, holding them, kneading them.

you smiled coyly. “you’re very handsome.” you liked the way he looked beneath you, his skin flushed, his chest heaving, his hair beginning to stick to his face as the lust made even a room as spacious as this one grow hot and stuffy. you liked the way his lips parted for breath, the way his eyes fluttered when the warm sensation of you got to be too much, the way his brows jumped when your pussy throbbed in response to his words.

it went beyond attraction. it satisfied you, assured you, and rewarded you all at the same time. it was your north star, that guiding light, the thing that let you know that for as long as it was bright you were not a failure.

“you feel so good,” you whimpered, your eyes fixed to his face. you stitched your brows together. “i love your cock, i love it, i love it so much! i don’t want anyone else, jakey, just you, no one else matters like you do. i’d do anything for you.”

“anything?” jake murmured.

you nodded. “anything, anything at all. you said i’m beautiful, but i’m only beautiful because you made me so.”

jake groaned. “and don’t you forget it.”

“i won’t,” you promised. your skin was scorching, every breath more intense than the one before it. “i won’t forget. i’m in debt to you, i’ll repay it however you want me to.”

jake reached up and grabbed your throat. “repay it by riding me like you mean it.”

your eyes widened. “yes,” you whispered, and immediately began to ride him faster. 

jake grunted. his grip on your hips tightened as you increased your pace.

“yes, yes, yes,” you moaned. your body was moving on top of his wildly, eagerly, desperately. it was as if he had something that no one else could give you, something that you couldn't even give yourself if you tried, but was still unique and purely your own, and no one else could taint it. something like a purpose.

jake lay there, a dazed look in his eye as he watched you ride him like you were worshiping your new god, and in a way, that was exactly what you were doing.

“tell me it feels good, jakey,” you said. “tell me i belong to you.”

“i can’t even put into words how incredible you feel,” jake breathed. “you’re all mine, baby. all mine.”

“i want you to claim me,” you told him, peering down into his eyes. “i want you to show the whole world that i belong to you. breed me, jakey. fill me up with your love and show everyone that i’m yours.”

your words made him swear. “you’re asking for something real dangerous, princess, you know that?”

“i don’t care,” you insisted. “all i care about is you.”

“if i breed you, i’m not just gonna do it one time,” jake said, tightening his chokehold just a bit. “i’m gonna do it again, and again, again, until your pussy has given me every last baby it can. you understand that?”

“yes,” you gasped. “i understand. i’ll give you as many as you want!” it truly didn’t matter to you. you had long accepted the inevitability of motherhood, and you would gladly produce as many babies as he dreamed. that was what you were meant to do, and that was what you would do.

and what would say that you were jake’s like his baby growing in your stomach, the proof of it growing larger and larger by the month until it was a truth that you could cradle in your hands?

you had dreamed of it so much lately, being the mother of jake’s children, as many as he wanted. marrying him and bearing his name, as you never took on the simname when your mother married in, too attached to that of your father’s. maybe getting a place of your own, somewhere with a view even better than the one here. raising your sweet little baby, something you and jake would create together, while he officially took on his father’s position within the company.

nothing would have been sweeter. you would have given up anything for that. soon enough, it would no longer be a dream, but a reality. you imagined inviting chaewon to your wedding, making her watch as jake swore a vow to you and not her, as he promised to love you until death did you part. you imagined her willing herself to be polite, forcing herself to say that she was happy for you as you had done tirelessly for so many years.

that day would be about you, not her. it would be entirely yours. you would be wearing a stunning dress, surrounded by your loved ones, walking to meet the love of your life at the aisle’s end, and the only thing wrong was that your father would not be there to hand you off.

but you wouldn’t let that ruin anything. because the wedding itself would be proof that you had done it, that you had become the woman he always knew you would, and that was what mattered.

then you and jake would be off to your honeymoon, and he would make love to you with no barriers, and you would give him a child, and everything would be perfect.

“when do you think we can get married?” you asked him.

“uh, in a couple years,” jake projected, loosening his hold on you. “i just have to get settled into the company first, sweetheart.”

you beamed. “my ceo,” you murmured. “whenever you come home stressed, i’ll make sure you come home to something to eat, and then i’ll suck your cock until you come down my throat.”

jake’s dick twitched. “holy fuck.”

“or you can fuck me, if you’d prefer,” you said. “even if i’m asleep, even if i’m tired, i’ll be yours.”

“there’s no one else on this planet like you, you know that?” jake asked.

somehow you smiled even wider. “likewise, jakey. and even if there was, i’d still choose you.”

jake simpered. “you’d choose me no matter what, wouldn’t you?”

“yes,” you gasped, a particular nudge of his cock inside you stealing your breath for a moment. “you’re everything to me, jake.”

“i know, baby,” he muttered. “i know.”

if you were already wet to begin with, you were dripping now, and that might not have been enough to accurately describe your state of arousal either; your pussy was leaking so much you could feel it dripping past your thighs and onto the sheets, staining his bed. and with how vigorously you were riding him, the sound of your bodies meeting was just as intense.

you had never gotten like that before, even jake seemed amazed. “you’re so wet,” he whispered incredulously. “jesus christ. you’re fucking soaked. because of talking about babies?”

you whimpered. “please give me your cum, jakey, i need it so bad, i want your baby, i want everyone to know you own me, that your cock was so deep inside me it made me see stars. please, please, please.”

“if you keep talking like that, i’m going to see stars,” he hissed.

you didn’t stop talking. partly because you knew he liked it, and partly because you were so far gone that talking deliriously was about all you could really do. you moaned loudly. “jake!” you cried out. “please, i’m gonna come on your cock, i want us to come together, oh, please, please, please!”

your thighs had begun to ache from the effort of riding him so hard and for so long, but you paid it no mind. even when your body tired, you refused to stop. not before he was finished. you were stronger than that.

it was a good thing that the servants were returning tomorrow, and not a second before. you were being so loud that someone on the opposite wing would likely have been able to hear your cries.

“i’m gonna come,” jake said, driving his hips up to meet your thrusts. “i’m gonna come, baby, fuck—”

he spilled, not into you, into the condom, but with such an intensity that you could almost have convinced yourself it didn’t matter. you felt the way his hands gripped your hips to anchor himself, the way his body convulsed beneath you, and you heard him cry out and shudder as the orgasm took over his body, as for a moment he surrendered all sense and all control to the ecstasy that scorched through every corner of his body.

that was what undid you, and as he was still coming down from that godly high your body had given him, you clamped down around his cock, chanting, “yes,” over and over again until your hips finally stilled.

the room was quiet for a moment, or close enough to quiet. your panting and the fan whirling was about all the noise you could hear. 

you lay against jake’s chest. “promise me you’ll always choose me,” you whispered. 

“i promise, sweetheart,” jake said softly, curling his arm around your waist.

the two of you stayed together like that, skin to skin, heart to heart. your eyes fluttered closed and you might have even slipped away if you didn’t hear the footsteps coming up the hall. footsteps that had no reason to be on this corridor.

jake sat up and patted your arm. “go in the closet. hurry up.”

you scurried away, plucking your clothes off the floor, and hid inside the closet. 

jake was shuffling around in his bed, hurriedly redressing himself from the sounds of it. that went on for a few moments until a knock sounded at your door that made you jolt.

“it’s open!” jake called out.

“hey,” came his father’s voice. “we’re back. your stepmom went up to the room to get some rest, but i’d thought i’d come over and let you know.”

“cool,” jake said. “nice trip?”

“fantastic. very beautiful place. beautiful girls too. you would have liked it.”

jake laughed. the sound made your chest tighten. “oh, i’m sure.”

“where’s your stepsister?” your stepfather asked. “i peered in her room, but she wasn’t there.”

“uh, i don’t know. she left a little while ago. probably hanging out with chaewon.”

“chaewon is in the hospital.”

“yeah, i know,” jake said. “she probably went to go see how she’s doing or something.”

your stepfather sighed. “you’re supposed to keep a rein on her.”

“i have,” jake insisted. “didn’t you notice how pristine the house looked when you walked in?”

“i suppose so,” came his father. “alright. i’m gonna go lie down. that flight got the better of me. let your stepsister know we’re back.”

“will do.”

you heard the door click shut, and released the shakiest breath.

“you can come out now,” jake said. 

you stepped out the closet, still naked, your clothes in your hands. “keep a rein on me?” you echoed, smiling. “is that what you’re doing?”

“mmhm,” jake hummed, pulling you back into his arms. “bend over.”

you draped yourself over his bed.

“see?” jake threw his hand against your ass, making you cry out in surprise. “that’s the rein.”

the next day, you went to see chaewon again, bearing gifts that your mother had gotten for her while on the trip. it seemed like more than the things she had given you, but you focused on dropping them off, saying a few nice things to your best friend, hovering beside her for a few moments, and then leaving. jake was at home. you missed him already. you wanted to feel his body against yours, to hear him whisper praises in your ears.

as you turned to leave chaewon’s hospital room, jaehyun was there in the hallway. your eyes flickered in surprise but you smiled pleasantly. “hello, jaehyun. i’m sorry, i didn’t see you there.”

jaehyun’s face didn’t change. “i know what you did.”

your smile didn’t fade, not yet anyway, but you tilted your head, brows stitching together. “i’m confused.”

“i know what you did,” jaehyun repeated. “you hurt her.”

you laughed. “right. with what bits?” you gestured over your figure. “i think i’m ill-equipped. you’re not. maybe you did it.”

jaehyun drew near you so quickly you missed it in the time it took you to blink. “don’t you ever,” he started, “accuse me of something so egregiously foul and incestuous as that when you’re the one who’s sleeping with your brother.”

your shoulders went cold. how did he know?

“don’t you realize that your brother will fuck anything with a pulse?” jaehyun asked. “i’ve seen the way he looks at you, and i’ve seen the way you look at him. it’s disgusting.”

“you-”

“be quiet,” jaehyun hissed. “when i came to see her last night, she was crying. i asked her what was wrong. she said, ‘god has punished me for my sin.’ i told her, ‘that’s nonsense, chaewon. what did you do?’ she said, ‘i slept with someone before i was married.’ obviously, i was not happy to hear this, but she was going through enough, so i simply asked her, ‘chaewon, who was it?’ she avoided my eyes, she wouldn’t look at anything but the tv. finally, she said, ‘jake.’”

“what does that have to do with me?” you asked. 

“everything,” jaehyun said, glowering. “you’ve always wanted to be her. chaewon’s too blind to realize it, she only sees the best in people. but you have always resented her for having everything you didn’t. and when she slept with your precious brother, well, that was the last straw for you.”

“you have no proof of this,” you said. “stop wasting my time with theories.”

“let’s see if your parents will think it’s just a theory.” jaehyun turned and walked away.

needless to say, when you walked into the main room, you knew the day was far from over.

everyone was joined on the couch: your mother, who looked distraught, your stepfather, who looked distressed, and jake… who just looked distant.

when your mother saw you, she called your name. “come sit. now.”

your heart thudded, but you had braced yourself for anything they could throw at you. you were prepared to fight. 

“jaehyun says that you set up that poor incident that happened to chaewon,” she said worriedly. “did you do that?”

well, your cat was out of the bag. “yes.”

your mother furrowed her brows. “but why? she’s your best friend, and she’s a good girl.” 

“she’s a stupid cunt and she has no idea what it takes to be a woman. she thought she deserved him,” you blurted.

she looked taken aback. “so it’s true then.” she grasped her dress. “you and jake have… a relationship.”

“yes,” you confirmed proudly. “we love each other.”

scoffing, your stepfather said, “this- this is despicable. jake, she’s your sister.”

jake said nothing.

your mother sighed and began to massage her temple. “i don’t understand how something like this could happen. i knew you two were getting closer, yes, but for heaven’s sake, i thought you were just finally bonding.”

“we have bonded,” you insisted. 

“you have sinned. there is nothing holy about this joining. to lay with another man before marriage, and not only that, but your brother…”

you almost rolled your eyes, “he’s my stepbrother. we’re not related!”

“you need to watch your tone,” she said, pointing her finger at you.

“you don’t understand,” you whispered. “jake and i love each other, and we’re going to get married and have children together.”

your mother looked like she was going to faint. she was gripping the pad of the chair for dear life. “jesus christ. what did you just say?”

your stepfather barked, “then you will have disgraced our entire family. do you have any idea the shame that the news of this affair would bring to our names? we would be a laughing stock in the media. we would lose investors. the company would be in shambles!”

your mother reached for your arm. “this must stop now.”

“no! can’t you hear me? we’re in love. we’re in love. and i won’t let you take that away from us!”

“are you out of your ever loving mind?” she snapped. “you cannot be in love with him, he is your brother. and you sure as hell cannot marry him. mark my words, no one will bless it.”

“yes i can! he said so himself. he said we’ll get married when he gets settled within the company.”

“settled within the company,” your father echoed. “there will be no company to settle into if this were to happen, do you hear me? i wanted to come home, relax, announce my retirement and pass let my son take my place. instead i’m bombarded with this utter nonsense. what’s with all this talk of marriage anyway? jake has never shown interest in marrying any of the girls i’ve paired him up with.”

“jake likes women with value,” you told him firmly.

“value!” your stepfather laughed, as if there was something funny that you were missing there. “is this a joke or something?” he turned to face his son, who had been silent on the matter thus far. “jake, do you want to be ceo or not?”

“yes,” jake finally spoke up. 

“then you have to stop this incestuous nonsense. i will not have you ruining the reputation of the company i’ve spent decades building up from nothing because of some silly fling you decided to have with your stepsister of all people. i can turn a blind eye to many things, but this will not do.”

to your horror, jake nodded his head. “i’ll stop. i swear, dad, on everything, i’ll stop.”

relieved, your stepfather sighed. “good. that solves that issue. we’ll announce it today, and the party will be on the third sunday of the month.”

you gawked. “what?”

your stepfather stood, not so much as looking at you. “i have business to attend to. come find me in my study if it’s important.” he started down the hall.

jake met your eyes, but he didn’t say anything to you, and they were only on you for a fleeting moment before he went after his father. “actually, dad, i wanted to talk to you about the company. i had some ideas and i thought i would run them by…” his voice trailed off the further he went.

you sat there, blinking rapidly, trying to comprehend what had just happened. “what…”

your mother turned sympathetic. “oh, honey. i’m sorry.”

“he lied,” you whispered. only last night, he had held you in his arms and told you that he would always choose you. he had promised. 

she didn’t ask what about. she just held you. “i know, darling,” she said. “believe it or not, i know how you feel. you think you’ve done your very best to make him happy, but something else comes along and then that something else takes priority. and you wonder what you did to make him love you less.” she patted your back. “that’s just how they are.”

“why?” you whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“i wish i knew, honey. i wish i knew.”

over the next couple of weeks, you barely saw jake, which was easy given the size of the house, but still jarring when you had spent the past month glued to his side, fulfilling his every need. and now he didn’t need you. you had exhausted your value.

you just didn’t understand it. did all that time together mean nothing to him? every word, every touch, every promise? one day, he was holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever seen, and the next he tossed you away like… like trash.

never had you ever felt more embarrassed. he had been so quiet, his eyes darting back and forth between whoever was speaking as you vehemently defended your love, while he didn’t say a word. not when it mattered most. not when it was time to stand for you.

you had officially become worthless, and you weren’t even sure you knew why. after everything with chaewon went down, you could have sworn that you had made it right. that he had chosen you. that you had proved to him you could be everything he wanted and more. that you would do anything for him. but he didn’t want it.

the other day, you had tried to send a text to chaewon, but it didn’t go through; jaehyun must have told her the truth. now you were truly and utterly alone.

you felt alone too. on the second week before the party, you barely stepped out of your room altogether. all you did was lay in bed and weep, while jake was probably planning what initiatives he was going to take as the new chief executive. your mother came to your room to check on you, but you didn’t feel like talking. she had to make the maids send up your meals, but you barely touched them at all.

it wasn’t food you were hungry for. you could barely eat or sleep. it was jake. i thought he loved me, you said to yourself, alone in your mind, a dark, cold void where every thought reverberated. he said he loved me. he said he would always choose me. he said there was no one else like me. he said we would get married and then start a family. he said i was perfect.

you must have replayed that night in your mind over and over a million times since it happened. it had been magical, the most magical. all your hard work and studying had paid off, and it was the most confident you had ever felt. it had given you something to believe in, something larger than just yourself.

but it was over now, dead and gone, and to never come back, as far as jake was concerned. he had given that up, because when faced with the choice of you or the company, he had chosen the latter, sacrificing your love, your devotion, your faith. sacrificing everything he had told you to be.

the bruises that had been on your neck were mostly gone now, but you could still see them clearly as if they’d never left, as if it was just yesterday that his hand had been around your throat. you wished he’d do it again, just to show you that he still cared. the longer he was away, the more you started to forget what it was like to feel his hands on your body.

you missed him. you felt like you hated him, and yet you missed him so much. you missed the warmth of his body beside yours, you missed the way his fingers would thread your hair, you missed the way his voice sounded when he was right there, and you missed the way it felt when he said something that made every punishment feel like it was worth it. but even if you couldn’t get that, you would have settled for his anger, his frustrations, his violence, his cruelty.

it would have been better than nothing. right now you had nothing but silence and distance, and you were certain that someone tearing you open from limb to limb would still hurt less.

the day of the party, you almost had to be forced out of bed. you wanted to stay home and rot, but your mother said it would reflect poorly on the family if you were absent. resigned, you did your makeup, covering up the days of sobbing, and donned a gorgeous red dress that jake had bought you months ago.

as you gazed at your reflection in the mirror, all you could thing about was that day at the mall. you look the best in bold colors, he had said. well, here you were in red, the boldest of them all. today, he would see you. today, you would make sure it was impossible for him not to.

the venue was rippling with businessmen and their ladies, as to be expected. you sat at the high table with the rest of your family, as to be expected. normally at events like this, you would chaewon by your side to help you through the monotonous segments… but that ship had sailed.

it was entertaining enough. you mostly watched jake, who was socializing deftly, here one second, and there the next. he was very charming. everyone looked glad to hear whatever it was he was saying. they were putting their trust in him, their time and their faith, just as you once had. you all are so silly, you thought. he’s a liar. he lies. he’s lying to you right now.

the future of greatness was in his hands, he had said. his father might as well have put his money in a safe and melted it.

it was amazing, though, how jake could say things he didn’t mean with such conviction. he could make a believer out of anyone. that silver tongue of his could forge promises like no one you had ever seen and say them almost as though he truly believed them himself. you were convinced that it had to have been some kind of superpower.

or maybe it was insanity of some kind, but regardless, it made you realize that maybe this whole time you hadn’t really known him at all.

speeches were given and forgotten. there was food and drinks and laughter. so much laughter. people were just laughing for laughter’s sake, and you were sitting there trying to hide the fact that your entire world had been upturned. somehow you felt even lonelier here than you had alone in your bed.

“now this was no hand-me-down,” your stepfather was saying in the middle of his speech, his hand clasped on jake’s shoulder. “my son has this position because despite all odds, he’s proven that deserves it more than anyone.”

everyone was cheering and clapping. you clapped your hands together too, watching attentively. “that was beautiful,” you said, standing up. “would you make if i said a few words of my own?”

your stepfather’s smile tightened ever so slightly, but jake’s face didn’t seem to change at all. your mother reached for your arm, but you were determined.

“i won’t be long, i promise,” you added. 

“of course. why not,” your stepfather replied begrudgingly. “everyone, my beloved stepdaughter would like to say a few words to celebrate her stepbrother’s success.”

more cheers, more laughter, but it all faded as you went up to accept the microphone. as you stood beside jake, the closest you had been to him in weeks, you saw your stepfather whisper something to one of his men, who then proceeded to take a position not too far from you, his eyes watching and waiting.

“first of all, i just want to start off by saying congratulations, brother,” you told him, grinning from ear to ear. “i’m very happy for you. it seems that you’re finally getting everything you wanted, and you know what? you deserve it.”

jake looked so composed, so proper. “thank you, sister.”

glancing out into the crowd of people before you, you continued, “when i heard that my brother here would be the new chief executive of our family’s excellent company, i was not surprised. who would be a better candidate than the man with this much grit? i think he could turn a tree into a diamond if he really wanted to.” everyone laughed. “i believe that the future of the company is in amazing hands. jake is the kind of person who knows what he wants and how to get it. once he has a vision for something, he will mold it and shape it in his palms until there is nothing but the best version of it.” you could feel jake’s gaze on you from the corner of your eye, but you didn’t glance at him. “it’s truly inspiring to watch. i feel as though i’ve learned a lot from him. to never accept anything but the best for myself. to always strive for perfection and aim to have what the next person doesn’t. that’s what truly makes this company great - the ability to distinguish it from its competitors, to exist in a realm of its own. if you like what my father has done with the company so far, then you should get excited. because jake sim is going to make it even better. thank you.”

as everyone clapped and hollered, you handed the microphone back to jake and returned to your seat without a backwards glance. you had said what you needed to say.

“let’s give my sister another round of applause for those kind words,” jake said, smiling, but there was no depth to it. “isn’t she the absolute sweetest? even though she exaggerates a little bit. making me sound like ten times the man i am.” laughter rang out in the room.

that might have been the first thing he’d said all night with some truth to it.

the party dragged on with no end in sight, and you found yourself missing chaewon once more, the feeling harder to drown than you thought it would be. you supposed it was only natural. she had been a close companion of yours since the two of you were very young. you wondered if she missed you too, or if she hated you now, just as you hated jake.

you were nursing a drink in an empty corridor to get away from the noise when you heard footsteps approaching. oh, brother, you thought.

a male voice you didn’t recognize said your name. “hey. that was a wonderful speech back there. you have a way with words.” when you turned around, you had to look up to see his face. he towered over you, tall and imposing. he smiled and outstretched his free hand. in the other he was holding a glass of champagne. “i’m sunghoon.”

you already knew that. you may not have recognized his voice, but you recognized his face. sunghoon park. his father used to do business with your stepfather before he retired and had sunghoon take over, much like what was happening with jake now. he was also one of the shareholders. you gave him your name and shook his hand, though it was unusual for men to do that with the women they met.

“thank you for coming to celebrate my brother,” you said politely.

“of course,” sunghoon replied, pleasant as one could be. “my father is hoping i do business with him. but i thought i might have sensed some… tension between the two of you a moment ago.”

“tension?” you echoed, feigning ignorance.

sunghoon shrugged. “well, i don’t know. i just thought it was peculiar that your stepfather had placed someone on your end of the platform. like he wanted to be prepared in case you said something… improper.”

your smile was tight. “my stepfather is a cautious man, is all.”

“i’m sure,” sunghoon said. “i didn’t mean to pry. i just thought that maybe there was strife, or maybe you wanted the position for yourself.”

so little had you ever even considered that an option that you were certain he was jesting, but when you laughed, he didn’t join in. “you’re serious?”

sunghoon didn’t even blink. “i’m not a man intimidated by a woman’s success. if you did take it, i think you would do well. it’s about time that more women assume positions of power in this world.”

he was speaking of foreign, forbidden concepts. “that sounds… scary.”

“of course it does,” he agreed. “but if there’s no pioneer, it’ll never happen. the grounds will never flourish. my father taught me a lot about business, but my mother taught me about life and judgment. my father was always focused on the end result, but my mom saw how to get there.”

you took that in. “how old are you?”

“thirty-one this year.”

looking at his hand, you saw there was no wedding band on his finger. “you’re not married.” 

“yes, society tends to be a bit more forgiving to men in that regard,” he replied, chuckling. “do you have any plans to get married soon?”

the thought of getting married stirred up some odd feelings, and memories, within you. “no. well, my stepfather has a list.”

sunghoon laughed. “no one wants to marry off their father’s list. mine has one too. my next date is still postponed indefinitely.” he took a sip from his champagne glass. “isn’t there any guy you like?”

“not anymore,” you murmured. 

that made sunghoon smile. “then can i take you on a date?”

well, he was very forward. you did like men like that. it had been a long time since you’d gone on a date with a guy, and maybe going somewhere without traces of jake would finally expel him from your mind. “sure.”

“perfect,” sunghoon chirped. “would you prefer to be indoors or outdoors? vanni’s has some of the best italian food i’ve ever had, but the pier is a great place to watch the sunset.”

outside. you needed to be outside again, connect with nature or something. that month alone with jake had felt like an eternity, and the only people you had seen that weren’t him were chaewon and one of the foreign investors. “the pier sounds lovely,” you decided.

“the pier it is,” sunghoon said. the lighting in the hallway made his eyes sparkle. “if you give me your number, we can arrange a time that works best for you. wear comfortable shoes.”

you exchanged numbers and he promised to text you, wishing you a good night before pardoning himself, and you found yourself wondering what you had gotten yourself into just now, but a part of you wanted to untangle yourself from anything that was tied to jake. the other so badly wished you could go into his arms and be held by him and take in his warmth.

but that was not an option anymore. he had given it up, he had deemed it worthless in the face of his father, the place where it might have mattered most. if he could choose other things, then perhaps you could choose something that wasn’t him as well.

that being said, you still couldn’t be certain if you had made a good choice. you couldn’t be certain of anything anymore. you laid in bed that night, the dress and makeup gone, alone with your raw self, or at least whatever was left of her. you had relied on jake, in more ways than you knew. in trying to build a structure around him, you inadvertently built a system that upraised him as the very sun that kept life as you had known it together.

it never seemed like a bad thing. even now, it hardly seemed like a bad thing; it felt like you were lost, like you were drifting, and you needed him to keep you anchored, but he was gone now, so you were trying to do it yourself, clumsily, spitefully, desperately, but it was just too different.

tonight of all nights, you really missed chaewon. it was your fault she wasn’t there, you knew that. maybe everything was your fault. you had never regretted anything more; you honestly felt at least three shed skins away from the person who made that choice, removed enough to feel remorse, but not so much that you didn’t still feel angry at the thought of jake with another.

and yet even that had wounded you less than him choosing the company, because he hadn’t even tried. maybe if he had put in some effort, you could forgive that, but he had sat there like it had nothing to do with him, like it wasn’t his life, like it wasn’t yours.

you weren’t sure when you fell asleep. you never really were. every night you lay awake, thinking about jake, crying more often than not, and it felt like mere seconds between then and the second you roused, not even remembering the moment that sleep took you.

the cycle, unbroken as it had been for weeks, persisted even into the day of the date you were going on with sunghoon. you debated whether or not you even wanted to go, but you knew that what you were doing now was not helping, so you made yourself get up. it was just a few hours. the bed would be there when you returned.

concealing the dark circles under your eyes made you think of concealing the bruises jake had left on your throat even though those were long gone now and you realized this was not too different. they were marks jake had left on you, even if one was more indirect than the other.

you made yourself pretty, the way he would want you to be, even if it wasn’t for him, even if it was for another guy. you remembered what it felt like to get his approval for an outfit. for a second you almost let yourself wonder if he would approve of this one, but you had to finish getting ready before sunghoon got here.

the final look was so different from the version of you drowning in bed that you felt like you were posing, an imposter in your own skin. your perception of reality was fragile lately.

sunghoon picked you up yourself. he was outside in a car waiting and got out to open the passenger door for you when he saw you coming down the steps. “hey,” he greeted. 

“hi,” you said back. 

his eyes seemed to take you in, and you knew your efforts weren’t for nothing. “you look beautiful.”

“thank you.” he didn’t look bad himself. sunghoon was an attractive guy, and he had dressed with the weather in mind. “you look rather spiffy yourself.”

“well, i tried for you.” once you were inside, he shut the door behind you and went around to get in the other seat.

you watched him buckle his seatbelt. “you didn’t have to do this. you could have just sent a driver.”

sunghoon glanced over at you, not yet starting the car, and smiled. “i find that what a man can do matters less than what he chooses to do. besides, i have a functioning car and an active license. what’s the harm?”

you hummed. “i guess that’s true.”

“shall we go?”

“we shall,” you said, adjusting your seat a bit.

you didn’t talk much on the way there, but it didn’t feel awkward. sometimes it was nice to just look out the window and watch as you passed everything by. there was a world out there, and it was vast, parts of it unknown.

at the pier, sunghoon bought you both drinks and you ambled along the boardwalk together. “so,” he started. he had matched his strides to yours. “tell me about yourself.”

you didn’t know where to start. it felt like there was so much you could say. “what do you want to know?”

sunghoon shrugged. “anything. what do you like to do in your free time? where do you see yourself in ten years? what kind of men are you into? were you really going to marry off of your father’s list?”

you pondered each of those things before you spoke, and every answer seemed to go back to jake. “the list… um, i don’t know. i guess i never really thought about who i would marry.”

that seemed to amuse sunghoon. “isn’t that all anyone ever thinks about?”

“i thought about getting married, yes. but not really who.” it was a lie now, but once it had been true.

“so you wanted to get married just so you could say you did it?” sunghoon asked. he didn’t seem to mean anything by it. 

“i mean, that’s… putting it bluntly,” you murmured. “but i guess it’s something like that.”

sunghoon’s voice was soft. “that doesn’t sound like you’re living for yourself.”

“well, a woman lives for her family,” you said. that was what you had always been taught. 

sunghoon changed the subject. “well, what about the other questions? what do you like to do?”

you had spent the past couple of weeks becoming a corpse in your bed, and the weeks before that submitting to jake’s every whim, or practicing how you would in the future, so you weren’t sure how to answer that question either. “um, if there’s nothing to do around the house, i might hang out with my friend chaewon. well, i did, but um… anyway, i… watch tv, i guess? i don’t have that much free time. what about you?”

sunghoon didn’t even think about it. “i like to do all sorts of things. try out restaurants i’ve never eaten at, or an activity i’ve never done. i’m a pretty spontaneous guy.” he glanced down at you. “does that bother you? spontaneity?”

you didn’t know if jake had been spontaneous or unpredictable or both. “i don’t think it’s a problem.”

sunghoon was pleased. “good. some people prefer routine, but i get bored easily, you know? i want to be with someone who has a sense of adventure.”

but i get bored easily. maybe that was it. maybe jake had gotten bored of you. maybe he lost interest. “do you get bored of women as well?” you asked. you hadn’t mean to be that forward, but it came out before you could rein it back in.

that, on the other hand, made sunghoon pause. he spoke very carefully, “i think that there are certain traits i’m attracted to in a woman. her fierceness. her spirit. her resilience. those are the things that keep me interested. i think i wouldn’t approach a woman who didn’t display these traits in the first place.”

you had never really thought of yourself that way, but if he believed it, maybe it was true.

“what about you?” he asked. “what do you want in a man?”

you took a moment to think about that as well. it was something you didn’t always have the luxury of considering. for so long it had just been, this is the kind of woman i need to be. “maybe a man like my father. my biological father,” you whispered. “he was sweet. even when he was busy working, he made time for me. he made me feel special.”

“sounds like he was a good father,” sunghoon said. 

your heart felt heavy. “he was.”

thankfully the rest of the date was lighter. sunghoon took you to a ton of different stores and you browsed through their inventory, pointing out things that looked cool or silly. you tried on a few different hats. sunghoon. there was live music playing and you stayed around for that as well.

something about it soothed you. you had always liked music, ever since you were very young. in high school you and chaewon had gone to so many concerts you could scarcely remember them all, but you remembered the way they had made you feel. there was nothing else like that in the world.

leaning against the railing, you watched as the sun began to sink down into the earth for the night, the sky blossoming with color. you could hear the sea beneath you, the water heaving back and forth, the waves crashing against the earth, devouring the bottom of the structure where you stood.

“i think i never really appreciated stuff like this,” you said quietly.

sunghoon hummed. “why not?”

“it didn’t seem like it mattered,” you said. “it seemed like everything else was bigger and more imminent. but maybe i had it backwards.”

“maybe.”

for the first time in a long time, the silence wasn’t so loud. it didn’t feel like your thoughts were haunting you, pulling you back into a dark abyss of emotions that kept you up at night. everything was just there.

when the sky turned dark, sunghoon decided he would take you home. you did speak a little bit in the car, but after a while it was just the radio and the gloomy, looming night. you liked it that way.

sunghoon helped you out of the car and led you up the doorsteps like a proper gentleman, even though it was utterly unnecessary. “i had a good time with you tonight,” he said. 

strangely, you felt likewise. you didn’t know if it was because of him, or the environment, but nevertheless, you were glad you forced yourself out of bed that day. “i did too,” you said. “we should do that again.”

sunghoon was pleasantly surprised by the initiative. “do you have anywhere in mind?”

you thought about it. “there’s a restaurant my father liked,” you told him. “i’ll text it to you when i get inside.”

sunghoon nodded. “okay. i’ll be waiting.”

“have a good night, sunghoon.”

he reached out for your hand and kissed it. “you as well.” he walked back a few steps and watched you go inside before he left.

you didn’t run into anyone when you came in so you went straight to your bedroom and took a shower. you were moisturizing yourself when someone knocked on the door. “honey, it’s me. can i come in?” 

you glanced up at the door. “yes, it’s unlocked.”

your mother entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her. “how was the date?”

“he was different than i was expecting him to be.”

your mother tilted her head. “in a good way or a bad way?”

“i’m not sure yet,” you said. sunghoon had been nice enough. you just had a lot going on, and being back here made you remember everything.

“well, you have time to figure it out,” she said. she came to sit beside you on the bed. “do you want to go out with him again?”

“yes.” you knew that much.

she looked pleased. “good. that’s good. i’m glad you’re putting yourself out there and finding a man of your own. i started talking to your stepfather about arrangements.”

arrangements. well, sunghoon had picked a good time to ask you out. truthfully, it was the last thing you wanted. “mom?”

“yes, dear?”

“do you ever think about dad?” you asked. you knew she hardly talked about him, and you never mentioned him to her first, but today his memory was particularly strong.

she she didn’t answer immediately. it was a while before she finally said, “i try not to.”

you wondered why, but you didn’t ask. “i just feel like you moved on really fast. and i don’t know, i don’t think he deserved that.”

“i remember him one way and you remember him another,” your mother said. she stood up. “goodnight. get some rest. i want us all to have breakfast together tomorrow.”

you restrained yourself from groaning in disgruntlement. ever since you started locking yourself in your room for half the day, she had been trying to force these family meals. sometimes it would be breakfast and sometimes it would be dinner. and it was absolutely awful because jake would always sit there as if he had never done anything wrong.

but it would be fine. you would get through it. because maybe that was what you did. you got through things.

day by day, you found yourself looking more and more forward to your next date with sunghoon. it had been a long time since you went to that restaurant you told him about. after your father died, it was like the world pulled you in the other direction, and everything that was his was so far away, part of another life you once had.

you almost wished you could go back to it. but you knew that was impossible, so the next best thing was to wrestle out of this one and start something new.

before you knew it, you were sitting before sunghoon, eating things that you used to eat, drinking stuff you used to drink. it was bittersweet.

after a while, sunghoon very gingerly asked, “can i ask when your father died?”

“like two years before my mom married my stepfather,” you said, looking down at your plate. if you closed your eyes, you could see him sitting there, talking about how much he liked the songs the band was playing.

you didn’t know if he was a mind reader or something, but he pressed, “do you think she moved on too fast?”

yes. maybe. i don’t know anymore. when you told her that you did, your mother had said something that confused you. you had no idea how she remembered him, or what that was supposed to mean. “it just feels like she was running from something,” you said. “and i didn’t feel like i really had time to process what happened before she married into this new family.”

“have you ever considered therapy?”

“no.”

“why not?”

“i never really thought about it,” you told him. “i guess i was worried about other things.”

“like getting married?” it was such a harmless question, but it felt like there was something he was getting at.

“i mean, yeah…”

sunghoon took a sip from his cup. “well, my mom says you can bury a body, but it’ll still be right there where you left it. you have to face those sorts of things.”

the conversation was getting heavy. maybe too heavy for a second date. “i like the music they play here,” you whispered. “the music they played at the pier was nice too.”

sunghoon smiled. “do you like music?”

you nodded. “yes. i used to sing in the choir. when i was little i watched my grandmother play the piano. i wanted to learn how to play it in college but i never had time.”

“you have time now,” he replied simply. 

your brows furrowed a moment. that was true. it had seemed so small in the grand scheme of things, learning to play an instrument, but now there was really nothing holding you back. “i guess so.”

“i’d like to hear you sing some time,” sunghoon said with genuine interest. 

you smiled timidly. “i think i’m a bit rusty, but i wouldn’t mind doing a tune or two. what about you? do you sing?”

sunghoon made a face, moving his head from side to side. “a little bit. i’m not whitney houston or anything but i can hold a note.”

you laughed. “i heard there’s a festival happening on the tenth. would you be interested in that?”

“are you asking me on a date?” sunghoon teased. 

“i thought that was the point of this.”

“it is,” he said. “and for the record, i would love to be at this festival with you on the tenth. i’ll clear my schedule right now.”

“if you’re busy, it’s okay—”

“nope,” sunghoon interrupted, already reaching for his phone. “i’m calling my assistant and telling him to cancel everything i have scheduled for that day.”

you had already been smiling, but it somehow grew even bigger. “that’s really nice of you.”

sunghoon’s eyes raked over your face, your smile. “it’s what you do for a girl you like.”

something about that made your heart flutter in a way that felt forbidden, but you didn’t know why.

and if you thought that was a lot, then nothing could prepare you for when sunghoon walked you up the steps to your house like he had done on the first date, only this time asking, “can i kiss you?”

when you came to think of it, you weren’t sure if jake had ever kissed you on the lips. he had kissed other parts of your body and held you in his arms, but he had never put his lips to yours, and you never knew how badly you wanted that until now. “yes,” you whispered. 

sunghoon craned his head down so that his lips could reach yours. the kiss was soft, tender. in a way it felt like he was merely testing the waters, but it made a fierce heat spread through your chest, and when he pulled away,  you felt light as a feather.

“was that okay?” he asked, taking in your face with concern.

“yes,” you said again, because you didn’t know what else to say. a smile broke out across your face.

“good,” he said, reluctantly stepping down. “good night.”

“good night, sunghoon.”

it was safe to say that the dates didn’t stop there.

you spent months going out with sunghoon, and the more you did, the less you thought about anyone else. when you were with him, it felt like the two of you were the only people in the world, but not because you were alone. because he had a way of making everything else not matter.

the two of you did various activities together. the music festival was a blast, and he was tall, so he got good videos. you went bowling a few times, and that got super competitive. he even had the idea of taking dance classes, and it was the silliest thing, but you did it, and you enjoyed it. everything felt so easy.

the worst part was the waiting. sitting at home, knowing he was at work, knowing that it would be a while before he responded to your messages. but you always texted each other good morning and good night, no matter what. sometimes you texted him things anyway, if you really just had something to get off your chest, knowing that he would read it later.

it did finally give you the inspiration you needed to get out of bed and stop merely existing. you took up piano like you wanted, and the instructor came in a few times a week, helping you bit by bit.

you started sleeping more, and the dark circles went away. there were still hard times and harder thoughts, but you didn’t feel this unshakable sense of doom anymore. it felt like things were happening the way they were supposed to, and for the first time in a long time, you were doing things just because you wanted to do it.

that felt like a superpower you never knew you had. your mind was at ease more often that not, even though it could still be hard when you saw jake and remembered the way things were. but you told yourself that the way things were was not necessarily the same as the way things should be.

one day, you went over to sunghoon’s apartment for the first time. “you have a nice place,” you said, taking in the sight of everything. it was neat, organized. the furniture selection was tasteful. 

“thanks. perks of being a businessman,” he chirped. “may i interest you in a glass of pinot noir?”

you giggled. “yes, you may.”

the two of you sat at a table, drinking wine, talking about anything and everything under the sun. it felt comfortable. safe. you just came as you were, and he was okay with that.

one thing led to another, and you found yourself in bed with him. at first it was just kissing. his lips against your lips, then against your jaw, then against your neck. it made your breath hitch. then it was touching. he paused, asking if you it was okay, and his hands wandered more and more, his eyes glued to your face, searching your every expression for a hint.

at some point, you wound up naked. his lips had been everywhere, your face, your chest, your abdomen, but then his face was between your legs, and he said, “i want to make you feel good. tell me if you want me to stop.”

at first, you had started to go into your mind, but it was hardly ever a good place to be. you slowly eased into the moment and let yourself relax. and that was the best choice you could have made. when you came, he kissed you down there and said that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

you wanted to return the favor. he had said you didn’t need to, but you insisted; it would feel wrong if you didn’t give back. so begrudgingly he let you, and when you took him into your mouth, you pulled out every trick you knew to please him, because there was never the alternative of being mediocre.

sunghoon was very receptive. you liked the way his body reacted on its own, those responses raw and natural. you liked the way his voice sounded when he urged you on, saying things like, “fuck, just like that. you’re so good at that. how are you so good at that?” he had a steady hand in your hair as he held it behind your head.

when he came, you swallowed everything, your eyes fixed to his as you did. he looked like his soul had been dragged out of him, his eyes hazy, his chest heaving.

when you pulled away, you said, “thank you for letting me suck your cock, sunghoon.”

sunghoon blinked, like it took him a moment to process what you said, which was fair, all things considered. “what did you just say?”

you really hadn’t even meant to say it, but it was ingrained.

sunghoon was looking at you hard. “where did that come from? that’s really weird.”

your face burned. “i-i’m sorry, i thought you would like it.”

“don’t be silly. that’s nothing you need to thank me for,” he said. he pulled you off the floor, back up to the bed with him. “who taught you to say that?”

you didn’t know how he knew that, but your heart was racing. you had been hiding this truth from him for so long. you were afraid that if you told him, he would change his mind about you and everything you had would be nothing, and you couldn’t take another loss, you just couldn’t. 

but you couldn’t lie to him either, so reluctantly you confessed as quietly as you could, “jake…”

sunghoon’s brows furrowed together. “had he touched you?”

you swallowed. “yes… but i wanted him to!”

sunghoon put his pants back on and handed your clothes back to you. you were afraid he was going to make you leave, but he asked, “when did this start?”

“i don’t know. it was months ago,” you said. it felt like forever ago and just yesterday at the same time. “i wasn’t getting suitors, so i asked him to help me dress more attractively. he took me to the mall and bought me clothes. he also bought… lingerie. he told me to have it on and wait for him. and later that night he came in and we… were together.” your eyes watered. “i’m sorry. i understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore. i know i was supposed to wait. he said i could lie, that my husband would lie, but i can’t do it. i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”

“stop,” sunghoon said, gentle but firm. “having sex doesn’t defile you. stop crying. tell me the full story.”

so you did. you told him about jake and his friends. you told him about chaewon and the mall. you told him about the party, the vacation, what you saw in the kitchen, and how jake had chosen the company over you. you told him what jake had said, that if you couldn’t make him happy, you would make no man happy. that things with no value go in the trash. by the end of it, sunghoon’s face was grim.

“you do realize that that’s coercion and manipulation?”

“what?” you croaked. you didn’t know what you expected him to say, but it wasn’t that.

sunghoon continued, “none of what you just told me is normal. you just told me that he took advantage of your grief and insecurities to make you consent to having sex with him, and that he physically abused you and let his friends abuse you as well.”

“he loves me. he said so,” you whispered, but you had already started to doubt that.

sunghoon grabbed you by the shoulders. his touch wasn’t rough, but you could feel the graveness of it. “a man who loves you will not put his hands on you. a man who loves you will not lie to you. a man who loves you will not make you perform sexual favors simply so that you can meet a friend and then become aggressive because you’re inexperienced. that is a man who is using you. that is a man who gets off on controlling you and eroding your sense of self.”

for some reason, that only made you cry more. you knew jake was no good for you. you knew that he was a liar and he hit you and he was probably not a good person, but you had never been good at letting go. it was the single hardest thing in the world.

sunghoon’s eyes softened. he wiped the tears from your face with his thumb. “darling, he made it so that your self worth hinged on his validation to such an extent that whenever he got angry, you would blame yourself. you would think, ‘well, if i never messed up, he wouldn’t have hit me.’ but there’s no such thing as perfection, least of all to men like him. men like him don’t give you the space you need to mistakes and grow. they want to break you down so that there’s nothing left of you but what they want you to be. don’t let him break you down by believing his lies.”

“you don’t understand. at first, he was helping me…” you whispered. 

“i understand how you might believe that, but it was never about helping you. he may have done things that you feel have benefited you, but it was always for his own gain.” sunghoon tilted your chin up. “why do you want suitors?”

it was such an outlandish question. “because i want to get married.”

“why?”

“because…. i want to have a family.”

“why?”

“because that’s what i’m supposed to do.”

“why?”

you didn’t understand why he was asking this question over and over and it was frustrating. “because that’s how i grew up.”

“exactly,” sunghoon said. “you want those things because the rest of the world told you that you’re supposed to want it. they dress it and make it sound pretty too. but you know what happens to most people? they marry a person they don’t really know or barely like. they have kids with this person without an inkling of an idea what a commitment it is to be a parent. they fuss and fight with this person and the children grow up watching, learning, absorbing, and they internalize it as their picture of love so that when they go into the real world, they can’t identify a performance of it from the real thing. and the cycle repeats.”

it made you remember what chaewon had said about why you couldn’t have sleepovers at her house. she had always complained about her parents’ incessant arguments.

sunghoon kissed your forehead and continued, “so if you’re going to marry someone, if you’re going to have children, at least do it on your own terms. do it because you want to. don’t do it because you think that’s all there is to life. it’s not. you’re very young.”

he was the first person to ever say anything like that to you, and that went for a lot of things you had heard him say over the months. but when you were brave enough to follow his advice, it did make you happier, so maybe he was right. 

“i want to marry you,” sunghoon said. “but i don’t want you to agree to it because you think you have to. i want you to agree because you like me, and you think that we will make each other happy.”

“i do like you,” you said, wiping your eyes. “you make me happy. more than anyone else.”

“are you sure?” sunghoon asked warily. 

“yes,” you told him. you wrapped your arms around him. “i want you in my life forever.”

“okay,” sunghoon said, sighing in relief. “okay. then sit down. we should talk about that.”

you followed him to the bed, sitting beside him, watching him, half clothed and barely even noticing. his words were echoing in your head, giving you so much to think about, things you had never considered, and that was the thing you liked about sunghoon that was so scary. he put things in your head that went against everything you ever heard, everything you had ever let yourself believe about the world.

that night honestly ended too soon, but the good news was that you weren’t dreading going back home for once.

at the next dinner, you knew the night was going to be exciting. everyone was seated in their usual spots, and your mother interrogated everyone about their days. 

you took a more active position for once, asking jake, “how’s things with the company?”

“i’m glad you asked, sister,” jake said, smiling. it was always weird seeing him act pleasant. “things are running smoothly. we’re currently trying to ascertain the most efficient means of implementing some new initiatives i had in mind that could boost our worker productivity and overall profitability. and you? how are things going with, what is it, mr. park?”

“i’m glad you asked, brother,” you echoed, matching his smile. “mr. park wants me to be mrs. park.”

the table went silent for a moment. you saw the forks freeze as everyone took that in. 

your stepfather was the first to say, “i think that’s a wonderful idea!”

“honey, that’s amazing,” said your mother, the delight shaping her face. “i’m so proud. are you serious?”

“very,” you said. you glanced at your stepfather. “obviously, i need your blessing, but…”

“i can’t think of anything more fantastic," he interrupted.

“i think i’m going to cry,” your mother said, clasping her hands over her mouth. “my baby is getting married! i’m getting a grandchild!”

it felt like forever before your mother and her husband finally stopped bombarding you with a million questions about things you hadn’t even had time to consider yet, but it was obvious that they were pleased. 

jake, on the other hand, was not. you were alone in the kitchen, grabbing something extra to drink when jake popped up in the entrance. “you can’t marry him,” he said. 

“i believe that decision is up to your father, and he seems more than thrilled about it,” you replied.

it was like he didn’t hear you. “you can’t marry him,” he said again. 

you spun around and crossed your arms. “and why not?”

“because you’re mine,” jake declared. he walked up until he was standing directly in front of you, his face nearly touching yours. “did you forget that already? i don’t touch you for a couple of months and you spread your legs for the first willing man in a suit like a good little whore? is that what you are? a whore?”

you grabbed a knife from the knife holder and pointed it at him. “don’t talk to me like that!”

jake’s eyes widened. “baby, put the knife down.”

“no!” you exclaimed. something about the entire interaction made you feel so triggered. “you made me like this! i believed you. i thought you loved me!”

“i do. i do love you, baby, i swear-“

you jabbed the knife at him. “stop lying to me! you only love yourself! you said you were going to fix me, but you just wanted to break me down. you said you were doing what’s best for me, but you were doing what was best for yourself!”

jake leapt back, stumbling. “okay, okay, i’m sorry, i’m sorry- let me make it up to you, okay?”

“no,” you said firmly. “i’m done with you. i’m moving in with sunghoon.”

jake didn’t look like he was taking that well. you could see it in his eyes. the shock, then the anger. he was quiet for a moment, just glaring at you, but at last, he said, “you’ll never find another man like me.”

“i sure hope so.” you turned and walked away.

every time you saw jake around the house after that day, he was sure to look at you with nothing but contempt, as if you had done something to break his heart and not the other way around. 

but you didn’t care. something good was finally happening to you, and you weren’t going to let him ruin it. you weren’t going to let your life revolve around his happiness anymore. for once, this was about you. and that was okay. it felt like it was okay.

it didn’t take long for you to remember how much you hated moving. the process was beyond annoying, even with people hired to do the heavy lifting for you. it was especially hard when you moved out of the house you grew up in, your father’s house. every memory you had ever made for the first twenty something years of your life was in that house, and you had to leave them there, or try to bring them somewhere the walls looked different, and the stairs didn’t sound the same, and the doors weren’t what you were used to. somewhere they didn’t fit.

at least now you were going somewhere you wanted to be. this house had never been a home. you walked around it the last few days of your staying, and it felt like a shackle was at your feet, letting you go just far enough to get around here, but keeping you inside.

the kitchen made you remember that night with jake and his friends, the way their hands had felt on your body, how trapped you had felt. it reminded you of the way his hand went across your face when you woke late. your closet reminded you of the doom you felt waiting for him to come up to your bedroom, dreading it. the living room made you remember the day the investor stopped by to see him. the stairs made you remember hearing him and chaewon together. when you put all of those thoughts together… you really hated this house.

“that’s the last of it,” you said in relief as you came in to sit on sunghoon’s couch. well, it was yours now too. “thanks for letting me move in.”

sunghoon snorted. “well, we’re getting married, so i think that’s only fair.”

i am getting married. to think something you had dreamed of your whole life was now becoming a tangible reality, and you were doing it for the right reason too. not because it was what everyone expected, but because you genuinely wanted it. you glanced up at sunghoon. “i don’t think i’m going to talk to jake anymore.”

“good,” he said, nodding. “that’s good.”

your feelings for jake had been complicated, hard to shake even when you began to comprehend the truth of the harm he had done to you. but for some reason, that night in the kitchen, when he said those things to you, it was like a switch had gone off in your head. maybe even a month prior, you would have told yourself that you deserved it, that you had insulted him by going off with another man and had somehow earned his cruelty. but every month with sunghoon made you realize that what you had felt around jake was not butterflies, but fear.

you didn’t want to live every single day on edge. you wanted to be with someone who made you feel safe. someone who made the world feel quiet. someone who made your life feel rich with possibility. someone like sunghoon. “i was so stupid to believe him,” you murmured.

sunghoon shook his head. “you weren’t stupid,” he said. he approached the couch and dropped beside you. “you were vulnerable. he knew that and he preyed on you. the good thing is that you started to recognize the trap for what it was, and you didn’t let yourself get stuck in it. that counts for something.”

your brows furrowed as you became lost in thought, pondering the way things had been, how you had been so deceived. “he was nice sometimes. especially in the beginning.”

sunghoon chuckled. “of course he was. it’s easy to forgive someone when you’re clinging onto the good parts of them.”

“it’s almost like you’re speaking from experience.”

“well, there’s a lot of things you still don’t know about me,” sunghoon said. “but i’ll trust you if you can trust me.”

you reached for his hand. “i do trust you.”

sunghoon smiled. “i’m getting you a ring. and i’m going to propose to you properly. somewhere with good music. then we’re gonna go to dinner and you’re gonna tell me what you want to do in the next phase of your life, and i’ll tell you something about the last phase of mine.” he squeezed your hand. “deal?” 

you looked down at your joined hands, and a wide grin broke across your lips. “deal.”

you were truly happy with sunghoon. happier than you had been since before your father died. part of that was because your understanding of happiness had changed. you did things because they fulfilled you, and not because you were told that you should find it fulfilling. it didn’t feel like you were performing. with sunghoon, you could truly just be, and he still accepted you with open arms no matter what.

sometimes you would make mistakes. sometimes the ways of the life you had before you and sunghoon met emerged, but when it did, sunghoon helped you get through it so that you could start to unlearn behaviors that were never truly meant to serve you.

and you learned so much about yourself now that you were finally letting yourself exist. you wanted to travel more, learn more instruments, learn more languages, eat different food, meet different people. you wanted to pick up new hobbies and wear new clothes and do something random just because.

you had been in the middle of selecting color arrangements for your wedding when the mention of a familiar name on the news got your attention. the news anchor was saying, “tonight’s breaking news, ceo jake sim has been removed from office after several subordinates came forward alleging that he engaged in illicit sexual relationships with them. the allegations are currently under investigation, and no criminal charges have been announced at this time.”

oh, how you would have loved to have been a fly on the wall at the house. things with no value go in the trash. there’s a mercy in that. i’d rather him go to hell.

as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, though, no matter how great your life had become, you knew there was still something missing.

you tapped your feet against the ground as you sat at the back of the cafe. you had texted chaewon from sunghoon’s phone, still knowing her number by heart after all these years. you’d had little hopes that she would respond, but she did, and now you were waiting.

it had been so long since you last saw each other, you didn’t know what to expect. you didn’t even feel like the person you were when everything happened. it felt like a life that someone else had lived.

when you finally saw chaewon approaching, the air fled your lungs. she sat down at the table in front of you, and up close, she seemed to have become a different person too. 

“hey,” you said shakily. 

chaewon didn’t smile. “hey.”

“long time, no see. you look good,” you told her, because it was true. she had always looked good, her worst days were another person’s very best. but her hair was longer now, and she had dyed it.

“as do you,” she said, “but we’re a little past small talk, don’t you think?”

you swallowed. it was strange, being so careful around her, the person you had once felt the most comfortable with. “i suppose we are.”

chaewon cut to the chase.  “my brother made me block you. he says you set it up. is that true?”

it was the hardest thing to admit. “yes.”

chaewon scoffed. “wow. how could you do that? do you know that i got pregnant?”

“what?”

“yeah,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “luckily, jaehyun convinced my parents not to make me keep it. i was so scared.”

“did it… go okay?” you asked tinily. it felt like a stupid thing to say. “the abortion?”

“it was fine, i guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “i cramped and bled for a few days. after that it was easier.”

you nodded. it took you a moment to find the words. “chaewon, i am… so sorry. sending him after you… that was awful of me. i heard you and jake in the kitchen that night and i was angry. i was jealous. i’ve been jealous of you almost my whole life. and i chose to do something that i knew would hurt you because of it. looking back, i can see how wrong it was. you didn’t deserve it at all and it cost me our friendship, and i didn’t understand that that was the realest thing i had. i know there’s nothing i can say to erase the impact of that trauma, but i can promise that i won’t let my emotions get the better of me like that again. i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to.”

chaewon was quiet a long time. “i appreciate your apology, but i don’t know if i’m ready to forgive you right now, or if i ever will be.”

that cut deep, but you couldn’t blame her. “that makes sense.”

“congratulations on your engagement,” she said, gesturing to your hand. “i hope he treats you well and you have a good life together. goodbye.”

“goodbye, chaewon,” you whispered. you watched her rise and walk away, almost as quickly as she had come. the moment was over before it really began, and you sat there not knowing if she would ever come back, not knowing if you had said the right thing, not knowing if there was anything in the world you could do to keep her there.

You’ve been stuck in the same row of molded plastic chairs for nearly an hour, and you’re fairly certain your tailbone will file a complaint as soon as you stand up. The fluorescent lights hum faintly overhead, mixing with the steady chatter of travelers and the occasional burst of an overhead announcement.

You blow out a raspberry and glance sideways at the two siblings flanking you.

“Stop being such a pain, Riki,” your bestie mutters, tugging her hoodie tighter.

“Bro,” he sighs, rolling his eyes with dramatic flair, “how am I being a pain by looking out for you?” He turns his head toward you, catching your gaze before you can dart away. “Right?” His lips twitch into a half-smirk. “Tell her she’s being unreasonable.”

He says your name, and you hate how your stomach does a little flip at the sound. You smooth down the legs of your baggy jeans, trying to look busy.

“Oh no,” you say, forcing a laugh as you rise from your seat. “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Annie asks you.

“Bathroom.”

“Well, hold up. I’m coming with you.”

The two of you weave down a long hallway, the floor echoing with the click of wheeled suitcases and the squeak of sneakers against polished tiles. The bathroom door swings open with a creak, revealing a surprisingly spacious interior, bright and a little too sterile with its lemon-scented cleaner.

“Woah, it’s bigger than it looks,” she says, before ducking into one of the stalls.

You do the same, then rejoin her at the sinks a few minutes later. The automatic faucet sputters to life under your hands, the water too hot. As you reach for the coarse paper towels, her phone pings.

She frowns, brows knitting as she reads over the notification.

“What’s up? Who is it?” you ask, leaning over just as you’re drying your hands.

“Ugh, Sammie,” she groans, shoving the screen toward you. “She wants to know if Riki’s single. Gross. As if.”

You can’t help but laugh, though you quickly cover it with a cough. “Well, I mean… he is kind of—”

“Don’t even say it,” she cuts in, glaring at you in the mirror. “It’s disgusting how obsessed some of my friends get with him. Like, yeah, he’s decent-looking, but he’s my little brother. They don’t get how weird it feels.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding along, guilt pricking at your ribs like pins.

She sighs, tucking her phone away and shaking her head. “Promise me you won’t ever be one of them. I couldn’t handle it if my best friend tried to hit on him.”

Your throat goes dry, but you force a smile. “Promise.”

Back at the gate, the final boarding call echoes overhead, and after a flurry of hugs and teary goodbyes, Annie pulls you aside for one last word. Her suitcase handle rattles behind her as she leans in close.

“Look out for Riki, okay? Make sure he doesn’t eat junk all the time. You know how he is.”

You nod, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Yeah. Of course.”

A few feet away, she corners her brother. He stands with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, trying to look unbothered.

“And you,” she says firmly, poking his chest. “Check in on her. She overworks herself and won’t admit it. Don’t let her run herself into the ground.”

Riki huffs, muttering, “Yeah, yeah,” but his eyes flicker toward you just for a second.

You stand by Rikis side as Annie disappears past the gate, her carry-on bumping against her heels until she rounds the corner and is gone. The crowd swallows her easily, like she was never here at all.

It was supposed to be a slight relocation, just a temporary move for work. That’s what she’d kept insisting, brushing it off like it was no big deal. But the not-knowing, plus the fact that there isn’t a set return date… it makes the goodbye ache heavier.

You find yourself staring too long at the empty space she left behind, fighting the urge to chase after her and squeeze in just one more hug. Your tailbone throbs from those awful plastic chairs, but the hollowness inside feels worse. You shouldn’t feel this untethered. She’ll call. She’ll text. But still—

“You look like someone died,” Riki’s voice cuts into your thoughts. He’s watching you with that half-bored, half-amused look that makes it impossible to know if he’s joking or serious. “Relax. It’s Annie, she’ll be back in no time.”

You blink, snapping out of it, lips parting to argue before he adds casually, “Besides, aren’t you on guinea pig duty this week?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, like he knows exactly what he’s doing — tugging you out of your spiral, grounding you with something small and ridiculous. You exhale a laugh despite yourself.

“Oh no,” you grin at him, “don’t try to hand them over already, you and I both know-“

Riki cuts you off, his shoulder bumping into you, as you two walk towards the parking lot, “we both know Annie made us a schedule yes,” he laughs at the ridiculousness of this situation.

Baby-sitting two bonded guinea pigs is the last thing one would expect two adults in their early 20’s to be doing, yet here you are. Co-parenting two tiny animals. And despite yourself you can’t shake the smile off your face. Even as you step in the passenger seat.

The drive starts quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space while the city lights smear past the windows. You sit a little too straight in your seat, hands knotted in your lap, and every so often you mumble another “thanks” for driving, for waiting, for hauling Annie’s bag.

By the fourth one, Riki lets out a laugh under his breath. “Do you say thank you this much to everyone, or is it just me?”

You whip your head toward him. “What? No, I—”

He cuts you a sideways look, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Feels like I’m chauffeuring a grandma. Or, I don’t know, the queen.”

Your face heats instantly. “I’m just being polite.”

“Too polite.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel, like he’s thinking it over. Then, casually “What, do I make you nervous?”

Your pulse stumbles. “N-no. Why would you think that?”

He huffs out a laugh, clearly pleased. “You sound like you’re about to faint every time you open your mouth.”

You gape at him, then snap your head forward, staring hard at the windshield. “I do not.”

“Mm,” he hums, unconvinced, still smirking. He doesn’t push it further, but the silence that follows isn’t the same as before. It crackles, alive, every breath loud in your ears.

For the first time all night, you’re hyperaware of how small the car feels.

The drive stretches on, headlights washing over the empty highway. By the time you’re close to the city, you realize Annie’s probably midair, and it hits you again that she’s gone, at least for now.

Riki breaks the silence, again. “Her flight’s, what, three hours? By the time we’re back, she’ll be landing.” He doesn’t phrase it like a question, just drops it like a fact. “I’ll walk you up to your apartment. Then we’ll call her together.”

You part your lips to protest or at least remind him you never actually agreed to that but he cuts you a quick glance, the corner of his mouth twitching like he already knows what you’ll say.

“Don’t argue. It makes sense.”

You sink back into the seat, muttering under your breath about him being bossy. Still, a tiny part of you relaxes. He’s right. And maybe you don’t hate the idea of him following you upstairs.

A beat of silence, then he nudges his chin toward the center console. “Put your address in. GPS.”

You hesitate, then reach for the screen. He does too. His hand lands on the edge of the console at the same time yours hovers over it, your knuckle brush… the touch brief, but enough to jolt a spark up your arm.

You freeze.

He doesn’t pull away, just smirks, leaning in close enough that his shoulder presses against yours as his finger taps the screen. “You type like an old lady,” he murmurs, watching the letters fill in.

Your breath catches. His cologne, a clean, sharp and a little dizzying scent fills the space between you. You bite your lip, lashes slightly fluttering, and glance up at him. “Wow, so I’m the old lady now? Should I start knitting or something?”

The teasing noticeably flusters him, and you smirk at his reaction. He blinks, a little caught off guard, and his smirk falters for the briefest second. “Wait… what?” He clears his throat, suddenly aware of how close you are. “I-I didn’t mean it like—”

“Relax,” you murmur, eyes darting down, cheeks heating. “Just making sure you know I can play back at you, too.”

Riki shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose, still smirking but a little more awkward now. “Right. Yeah… noted.” His fingers drum nervously against the wheel for a beat, then he leans back, though his gaze keeps flicking to you.

The GPS chirps to life just then, but your pulse hasn’t slowed.

You drive in mostly silence for the remainder of the drive with J. Cole softly playing through the car radio. Once near your place you direct Riki to the best parking spot for the visitors.

And then he’s following after you into the apartment building. The elevator doors slide open with a quiet ding, and the space inside feels suddenly smaller than it should. The metal walls reflect the two of you, close, your shoulders almost brushing.

Riki shifts behind you, leaning just enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. The faint scent of his cologne lingers, clean and sharp, and it makes your chest tighten.

“Interesting buttons,” he murmurs, nudging forward slightly so his hand hovers just behind yours. The proximity is electric. Your fingers brush as you press the button, and you flinch, heat rushing to your ears.

“Careful,” you murmur, heart thudding. “You might give me a heart attack.”

He smirks, eyebrow quirking. “Or maybe I like seeing you flustered.”

You glance back, meeting his eyes in the mirrored wall, and the corner of his mouth quirks into that knowing smile. You almost stumble over your words. “I… I’m not that easy to fluster.”

“No?,” he hums, unconvinced, leaning just slightly closer again. Your pulse leaps. Every movement feels magnified in the narrow space, even the slight brush of his arm as he shifts weight makes your stomach flutter.

By the time the elevator dings at your floor, your hands are shaking a little, and you realize just how aware you are of him — the way he smells, the warmth of his body, the sharp glint in his eye.

You step into the hallway, fumbling with your keys. He’s close enough that your shoulders brush when you turn to pull the door open, and for a heartbeat, the air between you feels charged with possibility.

“Well, here’s me,” you say, cheeks warming, fumbling to step aside. “It’s… small, but it’s home.”

Riki doesn’t answer immediately. He kicks off his shoes, lingering near the threshold, eyes flicking to yours with that same smirk. The moment stretches and your chest hammers, because for just a second, it feels like the room is smaller and your bodies are closer than they should be.

But then his gaze flickers to your place. The kitchen and living room are one open space, small but cozy. A tiny round table sits tucked into the corner, two mismatched chairs shoved beneath it. The counter is speckled with a few stray mugs, a half-open cookbook leaning against the wall, and a small potted plant that’s surprisingly thriving despite your sometimes-forgetful nature.

Two doors punctuate the walls; one leads to a tiny bathroom, its mirror streaked faintly from last night’s shower, the other opens into your bedroom. The wood floors creak softly beneath your steps, and the warm glow from a single lamp casts long, inviting shadows.

Finally, you step in fully, locking the door behind you. Riki steps into your living room and soon he’s sprawled on your couch like he owns the place, long legs stretched out, while you fuss with the video call setup. You’re perched on the rug, back against the couch.

When Annie’s face finally appears on the screen, pixelated but familiar, a wave of relief floods your chest. You place your laptop on the table and move to sit up. Riki sits next to you and soon you three are smiling at each other.

“Hey!” she beams, hair a little messy from travel but her energy the same as always. “You guys made it back safe?”

“Yeah,” Riki answers easily, leaning closer into frame. His shoulder brushes yours, casual but warm enough that you’re suddenly hyperaware of the contact.

The call continues, you asking Annie about her flight, her hotel room. At one point, Riki leans in again, deliberately too close, to make some dry remark that has you snorting laughter. Annie raises a brow.

“Wow,” she says, smirking faintly. “You two get along better than I thought.”

The comment hangs in the air.

Your laughter dies in your throat, replaced by a nervous flutter in your stomach. You glance at Riki, trying to read if he took it the same way you did, but he just smirks at the screen like nothing’s out of place.

“Relax, Annie. You really thought we’d fall apart the second you left?”

You paste on a smile for Annie, hoping she can’t see the heat crawling up your neck. Guilt coils tighter in your chest, because she’d brought it up so lightly, and because you wish it didn’t feel like she might be right.

The three of you chat some more, with Annie showing you and Riki her accommodations, and her sharing her schedule for the week. Before you know it the call ends and Riki leaves. You thought about offering him dinner, but Annie’s comment still looms over you. Leading to a quick departure.

Throughout the next couple of days you spiral. You catch yourself counting down the days when you’ll see Riki again. The next video call (just a mere three days later) you keep catching yourself staring at him, did he get his hair dyed? You couldn’t really tell with the beanie covering most of his head. You try not to stare but, it doesn’t help that you feel like he kept staring at you as well.

The next day, while you’re commuting home from work, you see a follow request from him on insta. Suddenly you’re hyper aware of your heartbeat and now you’re overthinking how long should you wait before accepting it and following him back.

You don’t last long.

Before your stop you’ve already followed him back and stalked most of his profile. His feed is effortlessly cool, with sleek shots of modern architecture, sunlit streets, casual outfits that somehow look curated, and occasional dance clips that you definitely don’t bookmark. There’s also one selfie, posted just a day ago. His hair is a bright, icy blonde, that’s slicked back to reveal his shaved sides, it’s styled perfectly and it’s exactly the kind of look that makes your stomach flutter even as you try to be subtle. You don’t notice you’re biting your lip as you scroll, lost in the little details that make him… him.

You nearly miss your stop, slamming the stop button just in time and rushing off the metro.

Nothing happens that night. But the next morning, you wake up to a DM from Riki. Your heart races as you open it.

It’s a photo. Sent just twenty minutes ago.

You tap to view it. The image shows the two guinea pigs sitting side by side (in what you assume is Riki’s bed), one nuzzling the other, looking wide-eyed and curious. Riki’s caption reads, playful and teasing:

"Your future tenants are ready for inspection… Auntie’s place better be ready for these two troublemakers tomorrow 🐹🐹"

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your throat, your cheeks warming, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you type a reply.

"Guess that makes me responsible… better make sure you’re pulling your weight, Uncle Riki 🐹"

It takes less than a minute for the typing dots to appear.

“Relax. I’ll even set an alarm for 5am so you get the full experience. Cosmo and Wanda don’t believe in sleep.”

You roll your eyes, grinning despite yourself. The two of you keep messaging back and forth the rest of the day; dumb jokes, more photos of the two piggies, the occasional jab about how unprepared you probably are. When you finally put your phone down that night, you’re smiling into your pillow like an idiot.

But when morning comes, there’s no Riki at your door at dawn. He doesn’t show up until well into the afternoon, cage in hand and smug grin firmly in place. His freshly dyed hair covered by a beanie, huge black hoodie engulfed his frame, and suddenly you felt star-struck for a moment.

“Some alarm,” you tease, ushering him inside.

He just shrugs, setting the guinea pigs on the table. “Hey, I needed my beauty sleep. You’ll thank me for it.”

Then he surprises you by going into full responsible mode, explaining their setup: an open pen with hay and water, how they’re free-roaming most of the time, how they’re puppy pad trained, etc. He hands you their toys, before a fond look takes over his face, “these two are basically married,” he says, scratching behind Wanda’s ear while Cosmo wiggles against his palm. “Annoying, loud, and a little dramatic. So… you should get along just fine.”

“Wow, thanks,” you deadpan, though you can’t help smiling as you watch him handle them with practiced care.

“Here, let me show you how to hold them,” he tells you, and then he’s by your side, slightly hunching so he doesn’t tower over you.

You focus on breathing normally and try not to stare at his huge hands as he holds the small piglet between his palms.

“One of your hands should be right behind the front paws,” he cups your hand and gently places it under the piglet, “and the other-“ he starts, guiding your hand under the piggies bum.

“Oh,” you softly say once he carefully lets go, and suddenly you’re holding a guinea pig.

“Oh my gosh, they seemed way smaller when you were holding them,” you note. The piglet squeaks just then, and you carefully place it back on the floor.

Riki smirks, leaning back on his heels. “Nah, they just look smaller next to you. Everything does… makes me wonder how you’d handle anything bigger.”

You laugh under your breath. “Bold of you to assume I’d even let you test that theory.”

Riki freezes for half a beat, then scoffs, trying to play it off “Oh please, you’d fold in two seconds.”

You shrug, fighting back a smile, “Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t too bad you won’t find out, anyways want some tea?”

“Sure,” he says, a smile stretching over his face as if he knows he’s got you.

You head for the kettle, the smell of tea leaves filling the small kitchen. By the time you hand him his cup, he’s already wandered over, peering into your fridge.

He groans. “Do you actually live here? There’s, like, nothing to eat. What is this- heavy cream, pickles, and… are those mushrooms?”

You laugh, covering your face with one hand. “Don’t judge me.”

“I already am,” he says, triumphant. Then, softer, almost offhand “No wonder Annie told me to look out for you.”

Your breath catches at that. Annie always worries over you, but hearing it from him, his voice teasing but touched with something more, warms you in a way you weren’t prepared for.

You clear your throat, trying to shake it off. “Well, jokes on you, I’ve got everything for pasta. Chicken, mushrooms, cream. We just need to cook it.”

That makes him perk up instantly, mischief flickering across his face. “Oh yeah? Show me, then. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Somehow, you’re standing side by side at the counter, chopping vegetables while he hums under his breath. His movements are quick, precise, like he’s done this a hundred times before. You steal a glance at the way his blonde hair falls into his eyes, how easily he fits into your too-small kitchen, like he belongs there.

But then he glances up at the exact moment you’re staring.

Your knife stills, and heat rushes up your neck. You look away too fast, pretending to focus on the cutting board.

He smirks. “What? Got caught admiring me?”

Your laugh comes out nervous, bubbling. “Please. You wish.”

“Mm.” He leans a little closer, voice dropping just slightly. “You’re blushing, though.”

“I’m not!” you protest, and that only makes him grin wider.

And then, without meaning to, you’re laughing too. It’s the kind that shakes your shoulders, the kind you can’t quite stop. It eases the charge in the air, leaving behind something warmer, more comfortable.

By the time the food is ready, the apartment smells rich and cozy, steam curling from the plates you carry to the couch. You sit shoulder to shoulder, a random movie playing in the background, guinea pigs squeaking softly occasionally.

And for a moment, it doesn’t feel like babysitting Annie’s pets, or filling the silence she left behind. It just feels… easy.

The pasta is good. Better than you expected. Riki insists it’s because he handled the important parts; you insist it’s because you boiled the noodles perfectly. It turns into another round of playful banter, laughter bubbling out of you until your cheeks ache.

And then, in a quiet moment between jokes, you realize how natural it feels. How easy it is to have him here. Which makes the guilt creep in sharp and sudden. Annie’s voice echoing in your head, her pointed warnings about her brother. You tell yourself that it’s just sahring one meal together, that it’s not a big deal.

Still, when the movie starts, you don’t sit all the way apart. The couch is small, and maybe that’s why your legs end up brushing now and then, knees grazing when you both shift for more room. You tell yourself it’s nothing, but each faint touch sparks something warm in your chest.

At one point, you lean into the cushions, laughing at some dry remark he makes. His shoulder bumps yours, just enough to linger before he pretends to stretch, like he didn’t notice. You pretend not to notice either, though your skin tingles where it pressed against his.

And so dinner fades into the background, your plates half-finished on the table while the movie hums low. You’re curled close, not quite cuddling but close enough that you’re hyperaware of the space between you, and how easy it would be to close it.

You’re mid-laugh when you hear it… the first soft patter of rain against the window.

At first, it’s nothing. Just a drizzle, background noise behind the dialogue on screen. But soon it’s louder, steadier, until you can hardly hear the movie over the sharp rhythm of it pelting against the glass.

“Damn,” you murmur, leaning forward to peek outside. The streetlights blur in the downpour, everything beyond the glass a streaky, storm-soaked haze. “It’s coming down hard.”

Riki follows your gaze, stretching to glance past you at the window. His arm brushes yours again as he leans, closer this time, his voice low. “Yeah… it’s kinda crazy.”

A flash of lightning forks across the sky, thunder rolling in right after. The guinea pigs squeak nervously in their pen, rustling the hay.

You turn back to him, biting your lip before blurting without thinking, “If it doesn’t calm down, you should just crash here.”

The words hang in the air.

Riki blinks at you, caught mid-sip of his tea. He almost chokes, setting the mug down a little too fast. “...What?”

You shrug, pretending at nonchalance though your pulse skips. “I mean—think about it. You’d be soaked before you even made it to the bus stop. It’s not a big deal. Couch is right there.”

His ears pink, just barely visible under the messy fall of his blonde hair. “You’re… seriously telling me to stay over?”

You roll your eyes, nudging his leg with your foot. “Don’t make it weird. I’m just saying it’s safer.”

“Yeah, but—” He breaks off, fumbling for words, then leans back against the cushions like he’s trying to play it cool. “You’re acting like you’re not gonna regret that invite in the morning when I eat all your cereal.”

“Joke’s on you,” you shoot back. “I don’t even have cereal.”

That earns a laugh out of him, quiet but real, the tension easing just enough. The rain pounds harder, sealing the deal without another word.

You fetch an extra blanket, tossing it toward him. He catches it awkwardly, still smirking but with a faint crease in his brow, like he’s not sure what to do with himself now.

“Guess you’re stuck with me, then,” he says softly.

The words make your chest tighten in ways you don’t want to examine.

“Okay, well—” you push up from the couch, brushing nonexistent lint from your sweatpants just to keep your hands busy. “If you’re staying, you should at least wash up. I might have something for you to change into.”

He blinks, looking almost.. shy? He nods. “Uh… yeah, sure.”

In your bedroom, you rummage through drawers until your hand snags on something unfamiliar. A pair of old gray sweats. You don’t even remember keeping them until you realize they must’ve been left behind by your ex. Your stomach twists, but before you can overthink it, you grab them anyway—along with a massive Hello Kitty shirt you sometimes wear to sleep. Oversized, ridiculous, probably perfect for Riki’s taller build.

When you return, Riki’s still on the couch, scrolling absently on his phone. He looks up as you hold out the clothes. “These should fit. Maybe. The pants, might be uh… a bit small.”

He takes them from you, holding the sweats up by the waistband with a raised brow. “These aren’t… your boyfriend’s, are they?”

Your laugh comes out a little too fast. “Oh—no. No boyfriend. They’re just… old.” You wave it off. “Don’t worry about it.”

Something flickers across his face. He shifts, scratching the back of his neck like he’s debating whether to say what’s on his mind. Finally, he mumbles, almost too casually “Yeah. Well… I don’t have a girlfriend either.”

The air stills. For a beat, neither of you moves, his dark eyes holding yours like he’s waiting for some kind of reaction. Your throat feels tight, a strange heat crawling up your neck.

You force yourself to break eye contact first, pressing the clothes against his chest with a soft cough. “Well. Guess you should wash up first, then.”

For the briefest moment, his lips twitch into a small smile, almost shy.

“Yeah,” he says, voice lower now. “Guess I should.”

When he disappears into the bathroom, you exhale a shaky breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

By the time he returns, damp hair falling into his eyes and your oversized Hello Kitty t-shirt fitting him perfectly, if not a bit tightly (but you’re not complaining), you can’t decide whether you want to laugh or hide under the blanket forever.

You follow suit, going into the bathroom now that he’s out. But as soon as you reach your room you overthink.

All your drawers are open, closet doors spread wide and yet. Nothing feels right. Your regular sweats? Too ratty. What if he thought you looked… sloppy? The cute matching set you never wore around anyone? Too much. That would look like you’re trying too hard. You pick up one shirt, toss it aside, grab another, second-guess it immediately.

You groan into your hands. Why is this suddenly so hard?

Before you can unravel further, a knock at your door startles you.

“Yo,” Riki calls, his voice muffled but light. “Everything okay? You’ve been gone kind of a long time and I’m getting bored.”

Your heart kicks. You hesitate, then blurt before you can stop yourself, “I… don’t know what to wear.”

The silence on the other side stretches long enough that you regret every choice that’s led you here. But then his laugh cuts through, warm and sharp.

“You’re getting dressed for my benefit? That’s cute.”

Your cheeks flame. “What? No! I just—ugh, never mind.” You press your forehead to the door, wishing it would swallow you whole.

Another chuckle. Softer this time. “Relax. I’m literally wearing sweats and your Hello Kitty shirt. Pretty sure you’ll look better than me no matter what.”

You bite back a smile despite yourself.

In the end, you settle on simple oversized hoodie, cotton shorts, and knee high socks; it’s lowkey the kind of outfit you’d normally wear when you’re alone. Comfortable and warm. You tug it on, take a steadying breath, and step out before you can overthink it again.

Riki looks up from where he’s sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone. For a second, his eyes skim over you like it’s no big deal, but then he blinks and sits up a little straighter, caught mid-stare.

“What?” you ask, pulling at your sleeve defensively.

He shakes his head quickly, that lopsided grin spreading slow. “Nothing. Just… guess I was right. You make it look easy.”

You roll your eyes to cover the way your pulse leaps. “Don’t get smug about it.”

“Too late,” he says, patting the spot next to him.

You cross the room, tucking yourself under the blanket he left draped across the couch. Riki found some cheesy horror move that flickers on the screen, the storm louder now, but all you can think about is the faint warmth where his shoulder brushes yours. It feels less like there’s a storm outside and more like the quiet pull of something starting inside.

Somewhere between the laughter and the thunder, your shoulders brush. You don’t pull away. Neither does he.

It isn’t charged not really. Just warm. Comforting. Easy in a way that makes you want to stay right there.

And when your head tips, just barely, toward his shoulder, he goes still for a second before relaxing into it.

The storm rages on, but the room feels warm. The guinea pigs shuffle softly in their pen, the screen flickers, and eventually your eyes flutter closed.

By the time sleep takes you, you’re both leaning into each other, the blanket tangled over your legs, his warmth steady beside you.

The guinea pigs squeak louder this time, rustling hay until Cosmo lets out a particularly indignant squeal. You groan into Riki’s shoulder, voice muffled.

“Why are they like this?”

Riki’s laugh is rough with sleep. His head tips against yours, “Told you. They don’t believe in sleep. It’s their thing.”

You both lie there for another minute, the blanket tangled around your legs, the couch creaking under your combined weight. His warmth beside you feels too good to leave, but the cushions dig into your spine, and your foot keeps slipping off the edge.

You exhale, hesitant but practical. “This couch is way too small. We should just… move to the bedroom. It’ll be easier to sleep there.”

That wakes him up a little more. His head shifts off yours, eyes narrowing as he searches your face. “You’re seriously inviting me into your bed? Bold.”

Your cheeks heat. You shove lightly at his shoulder. “Don’t make it weird. It’s just sleep. You’ll thank me when you’re not paralyzed from the waist down.”

He smirks, but you catch the way his ears go pink as he pushes himself upright. “Fine. Lead the way.”

In your room, the sheets are soft, cool against your skin as you both climb in from opposite sides. For a moment, you lie stiff as boards, the space between you like a live wire. You can hear the faint rhythm of his breathing, the occasional creak of the mattress whenever he shifts.

Your mind races. Annie’s voice echoes in your head, her teasing, her warnings. Don’t let anything happen. Don’t even think about it. But it’s impossible not to think about it, not when he’s right there, warm and solid, just inches away.

You roll onto your side, pretending to get comfortable. The movement must give him permission, because he shifts too. Slowly, cautiously, his arm brushes yours under the blanket. Neither of you pulls away.

The air thickens, but neither of you breaks it. You pretend your eyes are shut, pretend your breathing is steady. Still, you can feel him—awake, aware, mirroring your stillness.

And then, almost imperceptibly, he inches closer. His forehead just barely grazes your hairline, his arm settling lightly against your side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your pulse skitters, but you don’t move. Instead, you let yourself ease into it, curling closer until the space between you disappears.

You both lie there, tangled in quiet, pretending to sleep. But you know he’s awake, you can sense it in the way his breath hitches when you shift, in the way his hand flexes like he’s fighting the urge to hold you properly.

And you’re awake too, heart thrumming against your ribs, wondering if this counts as breaking Annie’s rules or if it’s just what happens when two people can’t pretend anymore.

Two days later, you cave and DM him.

“I swear your married children are trying to starve. They’ve eaten through almost the whole bag already??”

His reply comes in seconds.

“Dw. We’ll go shopping. Is it okay if we go sometime around 9 though.”

You chew your lip, staring at the screen. Around 9? That’s kind of late, but you type back a quick yes before you can overthink it.

When you meet outside, you almost do a double take. Riki’s in baggy jeans and a leather jacket, clean sneakers, hair pushed back just enough to show the sharp cut of his jaw. He doesn’t look like the boy you’ve been sharing tea and pasta with in your tiny kitchen. He looks… older.

“Stop staring,” he teases, nudging your arm as you fall into step beside him.

You huff. “I wasn’t.”

“Sure,” he hums, satisfied, and shoves his hands into his pockets.

The walk to the store is short, the air cool and quiet at this hour. Somewhere between the crosswalk and the corner shop, he mentions it offhand, like it’s nothing.

“My schedule’s kind of a mess lately. Practice runs late.”

“Practice?” you echo.

He cuts you a sideways glance, smirk tugging at his lips. “Dancing. It’s kind of my thing.”

Your brows lift. “Seriously? You never said that.”

“You never asked,” he shoots back, grinning. Then, after a beat he goes, “If you’re free Friday, come watch. You’ll get why I’m always tired.”

You try to play it cool, but your chest flutters anyway. “Maybe I will.”

He hums again, like he already knows you’ll say yes.

In the store, the two of you bicker lightly over brands of hay, his hand brushing yours once as you both reach for the same bag. Neither of you moves away right away.

At the register, you pull your card out first, triumphant. “I’ve got it.”

But before you can even tap, Riki leans over and slides his card across the counter, faster. The cashier takes it without hesitation.

“Hey—” you protest, glaring.

He grins, smug. “Guess you’ll just have to be quicker next time.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “That’s cheating.”

“Not cheating,” he says easily, leaning in just enough for his voice to dip lower, “just winning.”

Your pulse stutters, but you force a smirk. “You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe,” he says, bagging up the hay like he owns the place. “But at least dinner’s on you now.”

By the time you leave, you’re laughing softly, wondering why errands with Riki feel less like chores and more like dates.

Thursday night, your phone buzzes with a notification.

Riki: Don’t forget. Tomorrow, 17:30. Studio’s near Hongdae. Don’t be late.

You bite your lip, smiling at the bluntness. You’re really expecting me to show up? you type back.

The reply comes instantly. Yeah. Who else am I supposed to impress?

Your cheeks heat, and you don’t respond. But you set your alarm anyway.

The studio smells faintly of sweat and wood polish, bass already humming through the floor when you slip inside. You hesitate at the door, nervous you’ll stick out, but Riki notices you almost immediately.

His face lights up. He jogs over, hair already damp at the temples, grinning wide. “You made it.”

“Of course I did,” you murmur, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good.” He smirks, cocky already, and tosses you a water bottle from his bag. “You’re gonna need this. Watching me’s exhausting.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you.

When practice starts, he shifts and it’s like flipping a switch. The teasing boy you know is gone, replaced by someone sharper, steadier, completely in his element. Every move cuts through the beat with precision, sweat slicking his temples, focus written all over his face.

It isn’t just him, either. The whole crew works together, their movements layered and seamless, a rhythm you can feel in your chest. A couple of other friends and girlfriends are seated along the back wall with you, murmuring now and then, but you barely register them. Your eyes keep finding him.

At one point, the choreographer calls for freestyle. Riki doesn’t hesitate, he drops low, spinning into a clean b-boy freeze that earns whoops and cheers from his crew. He pops back up smoothly, grinning through the mirror at you, like he knows you’re watching. Like that one was just for you.

Your stomach flips.

Then the real piece starts. It’s the one they’ve been practicing for, from the way everyone falls into position with extra sharpness. The music is groovy and smooth, R&B pulsing low and steady. It’s polished, ready, you realize with a jolt. Probably their last rehearsal before whatever stage or camera’s waiting.

You catch yourself staring, lips parted before you snap them shut.

And then the partner work begins. A girl from the crew steps forward, sliding easily into sync with him. They move close, coordinated, bodies brushing with the kind of practiced ease that only comes from hours together. The choreography is sensual, meant to be. Too smooth to be accidental.

Something in your chest tightens. You fold your arms across yourself, clapping politely when the song ends, hoping no one notices how quiet you’ve gone.

But Riki notices. Of course he does.

He jogs over, towel draped around his neck, hoodie slung over one arm. His grin is easy, but his eyes flick briefly to your folded arms. “Cold?”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

He presses the hoodie into your hands anyway. “Here. You look like you need it more than me.”

You want to protest, but the fabric is warm and soft against your fingers, smelling faintly of his cologne and laundry detergent. You pull it on without another word, sleeves swallowing your hands.

When you look up again, he’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite read. Amusement, maybe. Or something heavier.

Practice wraps late, crew scattering in twos and threes with quick goodbyes. You’re still tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie when Riki falls into step beside you, gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hungry?” he asks, like it’s obvious.

You nod, and instead of heading toward the station, he veers left. “C’mon. I’ll show you my favorite spot.”

His favorite ramen shop is tucked into a narrow alley, modern wood paneling lit with warm light. Inside, it’s sleek, clean lines and polished counters, but the small space makes it feel intimate, cozy in a way bigger restaurants never could.

Steam curls from the bowls in front of you, when the waiter places the bowls in front of you two. Riki doesn’t talk much at first, just nudges the chili oil your way and asks if you want an egg in your bowl. The kind of small gestures that make your chest ache more than they should.

Halfway through slurping noodles, the words tumble out of you.

“Is it… normal? For dancers to date each other? Or is it really just dancing?”

His chopsticks pause mid-air. He sets them down slowly, eyes narrowing not in mockery but in something sharper, more searching.

“You mean today?”

Your throat tightens. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—” You shake your head, heat rushing up your neck. “Forget it.”

But he doesn’t let you. His voice softens, low enough that you almost miss it under the hum of the shop. “It’s just dancing. Nothing else.”

You risk a glance at him. He’s not smirking, not teasing. His gaze is steady, almost too much, and for the first time all night, you believe him.

The air shifts. You both keep eating, quieter now, but your hands end up resting on the table, so close your pinkies almost touch. Neither of you moves them away.

The ramen shop is hushed, only a few patrons left, their voices low. Under the table, Riki shifts, his knee brushing yours. Not an accident.

Your gaze drifts up. His smirk is gone, replaced by something heavier. His mouth tilts in a faint half-pout, lips plump and pink from the steam. His eyes are sharp, fixed on you, but there’s a hesitation there too, like he’s caught in the same push and pull as are you.

For a heartbeat, you think he’ll close the distance. His eyes dip to your mouth, just for a second, and the world shrinks to the space between you.

But someone laughs too loud across the room, breaking the spell. You both jerk back, fumbling with chopsticks as if the broth suddenly matters more than the gravity pulling you closer.

Still, your pulse doesn’t settle. When you glance at him again, his half-smile lingers… wistful, frustrated, like he’s thinking the same thing you are.

I wish I could just kiss you right now.

When it’s time to pay, you pull out your card quickly, determined this time. But Riki’s faster, again, sliding his across the counter before you can blink.

“Seriously?” you whisper, pouting. “You already got the groceries.”

He only grins, then and before you can argue reaches out and cups your cheek, squishing gently until your lips push out even poutier. Your breath stutters at the contact, his touch warm and careful, gaze dropping to your mouth, again.

For a second, it feels like the world holds its breath.

Then he exhales, low, steady. “I’m the one who invited you,” he murmurs. “So I’m paying.”

His hand lingers half a beat too long before he pulls away.

You’re still reeling as you step back out into the night. The September night air is crisp, the chill nipping at your cheeks. You tug his hoodie tighter around yourself, sleeves still swallowing your hands.

Riki falls into step beside you, quiet at first. The street is mostly empty, puddles gleaming under the neon glow of a convenience store sign.

Your hands brush once, twice, the faintest spark each time. Neither of you pulls away.

“You look good in that, you know,” he says suddenly, voice casual but eyes flicking down to the hoodie draped over you. “Almost better than me.”

You snort, trying to hide the way your stomach flips. “Doubt it.”

He grins, bumping his shoulder lightly against yours. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

The silence that follows is comfortable, filled only with the sound of your steps and the hum of traffic a few streets over. But then he glances at you again, more serious this time.

“And hey…” He scratches the back of his neck, looking ahead as if the words are hard to get out. “Don’t worry about that partner stuff. It’s just dancing. That’s all it is.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, warmth spreading in your chest despite yourself. “I wasn’t—” you start, but he cuts you off with a small shake of his head.

“You don’t have to explain,” he says simply.

The station comes into view too soon, glowing pale under the streetlamps. You slow your steps, wishing the walk could stretch just a little longer.

When you finally stop, standing at the point where your buses split, you turn to him. His grin is easy, but there’s something else behind it, something that makes your pulse stumble.

“See you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you breathe, tugging his hoodie tighter. “See you.”

Your hands brush one last time before you part ways, and you carry the warmth of it with you all the way home.

The weekend passes in a blur. By Sunday evening, you’re at his doorstep, cage in hand, trading Cosmo and Wanda back like clockwork. You pretend it’s just routine, but the way his smile lingers makes it feel like more. He invites you for a drink, but you decline, needing time to yourself.

The whole week drags, but it’s the worst on Wednesday, it drags like sand through an hourglass. Assignments pile, emails ding, your brain buzzing with things left undone. By the time you finally flop face-first onto your bed, exhaustion pins you down.

Your phone buzzes.

Riki: Don’t overwork yourself.

You groan into your pillow, thumbs fumbling a reply. Too late.

Three dots blink, then: Piggies miss you. Just come over.

You stare at the screen, biting your lip. You should say no; you need to shower, catch up on work, actually sleep. Instead, you find yourself tugging on a jacket and heading for the bus stop.

When you arrive, Cosmo and Wanda squeak loudly from their pen like they’ve been expecting you.

Riki leans in the doorway, arms crossed, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. Behind him, you catch your first real look at his place: high ceilings, dark wood floors that gleam under recessed lighting, gray-toned walls broken up with sleek art and low, modern furniture. It’s elegant but lived-in, the faint scent of cologne and laundry softener grounding it in something undeniably him. A penthouse, you realize, with wide windows framing the glittering city below.

“See? Told you they missed you.”

“You mean you missed me,” you mumble, kicking off your shoes.

His grin widens, but he doesn’t argue.

You tell yourself it’s just a short visit, just to check on them. But one movie turns into two, your body heavier with every passing minute. The cushions cradle you, warmth and fatigue tugging you down until your head tips against the couch’s armrest.

At some point, you shift without realizing, body curling instinctively toward him until you’re half-leaning against his side. Riki glances down, a comment on the tip of his tongue, then stops.

You’re out cold. Completely limp, lips parted in sleep, your cheek resting against his shoulder.

For a moment, he freezes, caught between surprise and something else he doesn’t dare name. Then, with a soft huff, he tosses the blanket aside and carefully slides an arm under your knees, another around your back.

You stir faintly but don’t wake as he lifts you, weight easy against him.

His room is dim, the city lights spilling in through tall windows, dark wood and steel softened by the mess of pillows at the head of his bed. He lowers you onto the mattress as gently as he can, tugging the covers over you once you’re settled.

You sigh in your sleep, curling into the warmth, and something in his chest clenches tight.

He stands there for a moment, watching, running a hand through his hair like he can shake the feeling off. Then he sighs again and slips under the covers on the opposite side, careful to keep space between you. But as the night drags on, that space disappears inch by inch, until the warmth of your back brushes against his chest, and neither of you stirs.

The first thing you register is warmth. Not the kind from blankets, but from the body beside you.

You blink against the soft gray light filtering in through the tall windows, heart lurching when you realize you’re not in your own room. The sheets smell faintly of laundry soap and his cologne. His bed.

You roll slightly, careful not to shift too much. Riki’s still asleep, messy blond hair falling across his forehead, one arm draped loosely over the empty space between you. Like, even in his sleep, he’d been reaching for you.

Something squeezes in your chest. You almost lift a hand, tempted to brush the hair out of his face, but stop just short. Don’t be obvious. Don’t get caught staring—

Too late. His lashes flutter, and he catches you mid-look.

A slow grin spreads across his sleepy face. “Morning.”

Your cheeks blaze. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t staring.”

He shifts closer on the pillow, voice rough with sleep. “Sure you weren’t.”

You roll onto your back, groaning into the ceiling. “You’re impossible.”

He chuckles, low and warm, before pushing himself upright. “C’mon. Lemme make you some breakfast.”

The kitchen matches the rest of his place: sleek lines, dark wood, all clean edges softened by morning light. You perch awkwardly at the counter while he rummages through the fridge, emerging with eggs, milk, and bread.

“I can cook,” he offers.

“Can you?” you deadpan, already cracking an egg one-handed.

His mouth drops open. “Yes, actually.”

“Mm.” You smirks, but slide the pan toward him anyway, watching as Riki scrambles with more determination than skill. When you nearly drop a shell in, he leans in, plucks it from your fingers, and tosses it aside. His shoulder brushes yours, casual but deliberate.

The air shifts. You pretend to focus on stirring, heart pounding as if eggs deserve your entire life’s attention.

By the time the toast pops, you’re both laughing, with his teasing, your mock-glares, the space between you narrowing in ways that feel far too natural.

It’s domestic. Too domestic. Which is exactly when your phone buzzes, Annie’s name lighting up the screen.

You both freeze.

You and Riki share a wide-eyed glance, like kids caught sneaking out after curfew. He gestures with his chin. “Answer.”

Your stomach knots. Still, you swipe to accept, propping the phone up against a mug. Annie’s face fills the screen, bright and smiling, hair pulled back loosely.

“Morning!” she chirps, eyes darting between the two of you. “Wow, you look… cozy.”

You freeze, conscious of the hoodie you’re still swimming in, of the way Riki is leaning against the counter right beside you.

“Where are you guys?” she asks, squinting at the background.

You fumble. “Uh—I’m just—”

Riki cuts in smoothly, “My place.”

Your heart lurches. Annie’s brows climb, lips twitching like she’s already amused. “Wait. Are you guys… together?”

It hits like a spark. Your pulse spikes, words tumbling out too fast. “No! We’re not—it’s not like that, we’re just—”

“Watching the piggies!” Riki adds, a little too loudly, and then winces.

Annie leans her chin on her hand, smirking. “Uh-huh. You both sound very convincing right now.”

You glance at Riki, flustered heat crawling up your neck. He’s no better—jaw tight, ears pink.

But then Annie’s smirk softens. “Relax. You’re adults. If you wanna date, I’m not gonna stop you. Honestly? Makes my life easier if you get along.”

You blink. “You’re… not mad?”

“Mad? No.” She shrugs. “Just don’t break up, because I am not picking sides. Got it?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. Riki chuckles under his breath, clearly entertained by your misery.

Annie beams, oblivious or pretending to be. “Okay, gotta run—meeting in ten. Love you both!”

The call ends, leaving only the soft hum of the fridge and the pounding in your chest.

You lower your hands slowly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. Riki’s already watching you, eyes sharp, lips curved in a half-smile that feels more like a dare.

“What?” you whisper, trying for nonchalance, but your voice betrays you.

He shakes his head, still grinning. “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Something snaps then; weeks of sidelong glances and almost-touches collapsing all at once. He closes the distance, lips crashing onto yours, urgent and hungry.

You gasp into the kiss, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. He tilts his head, deepening it, one hand cradling your jaw like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.

Finally, finally, you stop pretending.

The kiss deepens fast, like neither of you remember how to pace yourselves. His mouth is hot against yours, tasting faintly of broth and sesame, his hand cupping your jaw firm enough to keep you there, to keep you from slipping away.

You clutch his hoodie tighter, tugging him closer until your chest presses flush to his. The contact makes him groan low in his throat, vibration thrumming through you.

“Riki—” you start, but the word dissolves into another gasp as he nips your bottom lip, swallowing the sound before it can form.

He doesn’t let you finish. In one swift motion, one that’s reckless, thoughtless and so him; he bends, hands gripping the backs of your thighs. Your breath catches as your feet leave the ground, the world tilting when he lifts you like you weigh nothing. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist, fingers threading into his hair for balance.

“God,” he mutters against your mouth, voice husky, “you drive me insane.”

Your laugh is shaky, half-swallowed by the kiss. “Says the one who just carried me like it’s nothing.”

“Shut up.” He grins, breathless, and steals another kiss, bumping you into the doorframe on the way out of the kitchen. You squeak, swat at his shoulder, and he just laughs into your mouth before adjusting his grip.

By the time he drops onto the couch with you straddling his lap, you’re both flushed, panting, hearts racing like you’d sprinted the whole way. His hands find your hips, fingers pressing hard through the fabric of your sweats, grounding you in place.

You hover there for a moment, knees bracketing his thighs, chest rising and falling against his. The intensity in his eyes nearly undoes you. It’s dark, sharp and full of everything he’s been holding back.

“Still gonna tell me not to think about you like this?” he murmurs, thumb brushing the hem of your shirt.

Your breath stutters. Heat coils low in your stomach, and yet you manage a shaky smile, eyes locking on his. “Pretty sure you’re the one who started it.”

His laugh is quiet, disbelieving, before his lips crash onto yours again.

The couch creaks under your shifting weight, your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him like you’ve been waiting weeks for this exact moment. He pulls you closer, until there’s no space left, until even the air between you is burning.

“Riki,” you breathlessly murmur once he trails kisses down your neck. He sucks sharply, one of his hands holding you close to him by your waist. The other in your hair.

Your nails sink from his shoulders and into his back and he pulls your hair back, revealing your neck before he sucks another kiss into it.

His breathing is labored and all you can do is mewl against him. You try to pull back but his hold is too strong.

You shift your weight, hips dragging on his lap and you both moan.

“Need you so bad, Riki,” you whine, humping yourself against his bigger frame.

“Yeah? Show me how bad pretty, “ he murmurs, and then he’s flipping you two. You’re spread below him, your back against leather couch and Riki towering over you.

His hair is messy, lips bitten red and you can’t control the shiver overtaking you. Your hands are held together, right in front of your waist. You watch as Riki slips his shirt over his head, then his sweats.

The wild look he gives you makes your heart beat harder in your chest. He reaches out for you then, his huge hand engulfing your wrists together and holding your hands above your head.

He tugs the hoodie you’re wearing (his hoodie) up, letting his hand explore the soft skin he’s uncovering.

“Fuck,” you think you hear him whisper to himself.

“Stay here, beautiful, I’m just gonna go and get a condom.” Is all he says, before he almost runs to his room. The sight would be funny if you weren’t so turned on right now.

Instead you take your clothing off, thanking whomever for deciding to wear your lacy panties yesterday.

Riki comes back into the room just as you’re sat completely naked on the couch – save for your panties. He bites his lips, eyes raking you in and it’s at this point that you notice his tattoos.

“Leave them on,” he gestures to your panties, and then. He’s back on you.

He kisses you as if his life depended on it, nudging you softly so you’re laying down again. His hands go from soft to rough where he explores your body.

But you return the favor, where Riki grips – you grasp, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Need you Riki, c’mon,” you plead.

“Gonna let me ruin you a little?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

Instead of answering you press your hips into his, pouting as you shakily answer, “Only if I get to ruin you too.”

“Fuck,” is all he says and then you’re watching him fumble with the damn condom.

“Need some help?” you tease, but the breathlessness in your voice betrays you.

“Don’t rush me, I’m trying not to fuck this up,” he grins, but you can tell he’s getting frustrated.

So you grip his cock, your other hand pressing on the plastic wrap as you both push it over his cockhead.

“Riki, you’re so big,” you whine, lip caught between your teeth, “promise you’ll go slow?”

He looks at you then, looking almost surprised. His eyes soften, “Of course baby, we’ll go as slow as you need.” He tells you almost in a coo.

And then you feel his cock pressing against your entrance.

“So big Riki, you’re so big,” you whine before he’s even entered you.

You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him down onto you and Riki groans when he feels your hips pushing forward.

His cockhead starts slipping in, your wetness almost sucking him in you.

“Shit—so fucking tight…” he groans, guttural and low. He sinks deeper and deeper, inch by inch and you feel your eyes watering from the pleasurable strech.

“Riki—feels so good,” you moan once he’s almost fully sheathed himself into your smaller body underneath his. Your nails sink into his back and he hisses, but you feel his dick twich.

You’re mewling as he fills you fully, his body tense against your limp one.

You’re smiling up at him as his hands grip your thighs tightly in a poor attempt to ground himself.

You tug on his hair a little bit and he’s groaning, pushing his hips out slowly, before pushing himself back into you.

“Been wanting this—fuck—been wanting you for so long,” his voice breaks between thrusts.

Meanwhile you’re panting hard, almost whining, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Told you I’d ruin you,” he whispers by your ear when he notices your teary eyes.

“Looks like I’m ruining you too,” you smirks as you feel just how hard his dick is. He slams deeper into you just then, groaning your name and you’re a goner.

Your hands are all over each other’s bodies, nails drawing sharp red lines across his back, while Riki sucks another bruise on your collar bones.

You feel your climax approaching, and that’s when Riki grips your wrists together, pinning your hands above your head.

He’s watching the way your tits bounce when you note his expression.

He was close.

“That’s it, good girl, just like that—taking me so well,” he rasps, his voice so low it’s making your stomach do backflips.

“Riki—gonna—” you’re barely coherent, as you attempt to praise him back. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and suddenly you still.

“Come with me pretty girl. Right here, with me. Wanna see you make a mess.”

And before you know it he’s cumming with you. His hips pressed against your, his dick filling you so good. So well, you feel his balls spasm as he comes alongside with you.

After a beat he collapses half on top of you, kissing your jaw, sweaty but soft.

“Not letting you go now. Don’t care what Annie says,” he murmurs, his forehead against yours.

You laugh breathlessly, stroking his hair, “You’re ridiculous.”

You never knew why, but the guy who sat in the front row of the chemistry class caught your eye. The way his black hair fell on his face, the thick frames of his glasses. The way he always answered the teacher's questions.

It pissed you off so much. 

And you didn't even know why. Was it the way he spoke? The way his fingers brushed his neatly arranged fringe? You didn’t even know his name, for god's sake! All you knew was that he was friends with your brother, who was equally a nerd in your book. 

Every time you looked at him, you could feel your blood boil, face redden, and heart quicken. You’d always concluded it was hatred and envy of him being so smart, but then again. You were one of the most popular girls at school, weren't you? 

You had lines and lines of guys and girls who’d do anything for you in a heartbeat. No money? The student council president coincidentally had the $20 extra in his wallet. Forgot homework? The class pet offers to swap her own homework sheet for your empty one. 

It was like living the dream.

— 

You sat in your brother's room, bored inevitably. He was hunched over at his desk, studying for a test that was in a month. Seriously, who studies that early?

“Hey, Jaeyun.” You said, practically throwing your plush toy, a stuffed duck animal that he gave you for your 7th birthday, at him. The soft fabric of the plush hits his shoulder, gaining a groan from him. 

Yet, that didn't make him budge. His hands were still steady, continuing to use the black pen to jot down important notes from his computer science class. Eyes flicking between the lined paper and the recorded video. 

Watching this made you huff, crossing your legs on Jaeyun's bed. Your eyes wander around his room, from the shelves of chemistry books to Wilfred Owen poems in hardcover copies. The black bedding under you was messed up from the fact that you were rolling around in it, waiting for your brother to finish up his notes.

“Jaeyunn!” You whined, picking up one of his own pillows, one that was covered in chemistry equations, throwing it straight at the back of his head.

A loud exhale escaped Jaeyun’s nose as he harshly slammed the pen onto the desk. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was practically fuming at the number of times you were bothering him.

“What, Y/N,” He started with a gritted voice, back still faced towards you as he stared at the now paused video lecture on his monitor. “What could’ve possibly been so important that you had to interrupt me?”

He finally spun on his chair, Jaeyun’s hair pushed back by a headband he stole from you, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes sending daggers into your own. His chest heaved rapidly as if to calm himself down from yelling at you; he was your older brother after all.

You smirked at the fact that you finally got his attention. Getting up from tussling on his bed, as your legs hung off the side.

“The party you said you’d drive me to?” You narrowed your eyes at him, raising your eyebrow slowly, “Don’t tell me you forgot? Even after I covered for you, telling mom you were at a study group even when you were-”

“Shut up! Get off my bed and get ready.” Jaeyun groaned with annoyance, interrupting you, not wanting to be reminded of that dreadful day. 

Already pushing himself away from his desk, he straightens his shirt, one with a puppy with the words ‘you are pawsome!’ right underneath it, the same one you thought was stupid. Eyes squinting at you with full judgment. 

“If you don't get ready in the next 30 minutes, I’m leaving you.” 

—

You finally emerge from your bedroom, dressed in an outfit you’d like to say screams ‘sleep with me!’ but also enough to say ‘but I won't go to third base, maybe a blowjob.’ It was a white tank top that ended just above your belly button, the words ‘desire’ embellished in gems across the chest of the tank, low-rise denim shorts that stopped just above mid-thigh. The straps of your new thong peak just above the waistline, and the edges of your cheetah print bralette are visible through the tank.

Jaeyun stood by the door, still dressed in his, what you would call, ‘nerdy’ graphic shirt and baggy sweatpants, his glasses still intact on his face. His face glued to his phone, watching whatever you thought ‘nerds’ would watch.

Hearing the sounds of your feet padding the carpet on the stairs, his head perked up from his phone, only to instantly groan and fake gag at the sight of your outfit.

“Can you, for once, not act all…” He scoffed, eyes raking your body in disgust.

“Hot?”

“Slutty. Needy,” He corrected. Instantly turning around to the door. Grabbing his slides from the shoe rack, sliding them on as he continued his sentence, “Is it possible that you could stop acting like a whore, for once?”

You scoff at his degrading comments, walking past him to grab your own shoes, a pair of white boots with fur around the rim, laced tight enough that you wouldn't have to bend over every five minutes to tie them into a bow during the party.

“Do you always have to be such a dick, Yun?” You groan in frustration as you stand up, your back cracking quietly with every stretch, and the heels of the boots are loud with every step towards the door.

“Whatever.” He scoffed, following behind you as you both walked towards the busted-up Honda Civic in the garage way.

—

As Jaeyun and you pull up to the party, the smell of weed and alcohol hits your nose instantly; the doors of the car weren't even open to say the least. A small smirk hit your lips as you noticed your friends, your head slowly turning towards Jaeyun.

“I'm going in, call me if you need me.” You said with a smile, blowing a small kiss towards Jaeyun. “I probably won't answer.” 

You instantly get out of the car and catch up to all your friends, who were walking up the porch stairs. Your hand shooing Jaeyun away to drive away. As Jaeyun notices the signal, he rolls his eyes with a grumble, driving away with a sad puff of the exhaust pipe. 

As soon as you set foot into the house, the blaring music hits your ears. The smell of weed and alcohol is becoming even more evident with every step. 

Soon, you see your friends in the kitchen, all of them surrounding the punch. Knowing them, they were probably spiking it with Everclear. Their giggles and chatter fill the room until one of their heads perks up.

“Oh my god-! Y/N!” Your friend, Manon, called out with a smile, her hand still on the bottle of Everclear. You smile at the recognition and join the circle, giggling.

“Are you seriously doing this? It's like we’re freshmen all over again.” You roll your eyes at their antics, taking the ladle from Chaewon, stirring the punch so the alcohol could distribute evenly into the fruity drink.

“Oh come on, live a little.” Giselle nudged you softly with a smirk. And she was right, you haven't done shit like this since you were a freshman in high school. You remembered the thrill you got when you were pouring down a more tamer alcohol than Everclear, but still pouring something strong into a tame punch. 

With a sigh, you scoop the now tainted mix into a red cup, the liquid being a diluted pink shade. Your face grimaces softly as you bring up the alcohol towards your nose, the strong, fiery smell making your eyes tingle slightly.

“Chug… chug... chug...” Your friends start chanting around you with a smile, their hands hitting the table lightly. The sound of the table ringing through your ears as their cheers become louder and travel around the room until people you didn't even know chanted on as well. 

With everyone chanting through the room, you took a sharp inhale as you brought the cup towards your lips. Tilting your head back and opening your throat up so the liquid could slide down your throat. Eyes were watering slightly at the burn and the rapid speed of the drink flowing. As soon as you finish chugging, you slam the red cup down onto the marble table, and a loud cheer erupts from the sudden crowd that was watching you.

All the attention is on you.

—

You weren't drunk, you’d like to say. Maybe just tipsy? 

Your body was just flowing like a wave in the ocean. Your hips swaying to the music of the party - S&M by Rihanna. Your hips were grinding on a random person behind you; the face was blurred in your mind. 

Was it Lee Heeseung, the notorious school esports gamer? Or was it Kim Sunoo, well-known student body president? 

Your bodies pressed against the sweat of other people surrounding you, the pink and purple lights hitting the living room, the floor sticky due to spilled alcohol and sodas. The sounds of people making out, laughing loudly, and the music progressively getting louder. You couldn't take it anymore.

“Sorry.” You muffled out, walking away from the guy you were grinding on, still unsure of who it was. Your mind is racing as you walk out of the living room into the kitchen, which is now almost vacant due to the blasting music in the living room and the host, Kang Taehyun, playing beer pong outside with a large number of people.

Your eyes wander to the forgotten punch, quickly taking the ladle and pouring another batch into a random red plastic cup. Bringing the drink to your lips - forgetting it was filled with Everclear. 

Your eyes water instantly as you chugged the drink down your throat, and in regret. Your head is spinning even more, and your eyes are getting hazy slowly. Your hand slowly goes to your phone inside your pocket, dialling your brother's number.

Ring… ring… ring…

That was all you heard until the click of someone picking up. The loud music was slowly enveloped by the loud silence through the phone. Until you hear a groggy voice.

“Hello…?”

“Jaeyun-!” You hiccuped softly. “Pick me up from Taehyun's house. I don't want to be here anymore.” You slurred so softly, another hiccup escaping your lips.

You could hear a loud sigh from the other side of the call. Shuffling through the fabrics of beds.

“I can’t, Y/N. Our house is what…? 30 minutes away, it’d take too long.” Jaeyun muttered with a rasp in his voice. “I’ll call my friend, alright, he can pick you up faster.” You heard him say, before the call ended, making you sigh in quick relief. You gather all your stuff, not caring if you left anything in the living room.

You made your way through the hallway of weed clouds and people making out. The sensation is making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your skin. Your vision was fuzzy and blurred as you reached the entrance door, opening it in a rush to gain fresh air into your lungs.

You could feel yourself collapse onto the house's lawn, the grass feeling fresh and soft under your hands and knees, the cool air you inhale making you feel refreshed and alive again.

5 minutes go by, and you’re staring into the night sky, the clouds now gone and replaced with the soft gaze of the stars. Your tipsy mind is creating patterns and animals with every look. You felt free, almost like you wanted to let go. Your eyes slowly close.

Beep!

Was it all that made you fall out of the trance you were in? Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the black Ford Mustang. 

Who the fuck uses a Ford Mustang, and how does Jaeyun know them?

—

The car ride was silent, not a peep from you nor a peep from your mystery saviour. You don't even remember getting into the car. One second you were on the grass of Taehyun’s lawn, next thing you know, poof! You’re in a random person's car - a nice car at that. 

You wanted to speak, you could’ve if you tried. But you were too scared, what if they were a kidnapper? You sat in the passenger seat, eyes focused on the view out the window. The only sound of the car was the murmur of the stereo and the engine. 

All you could think about was Who the hell is this person? Not if you were safe, not if your brother knew this person. Just who was this person? Your eyes glanced over at the steering wheel, studying the easy grip on the wheel, how they occasionally tapped with every stop, how veiny yet delicate their hands were, how big they were.  

Your mind raced for minutes, hours, you don't even know. Until you hear the sound of the engine turning off, the car is coming to a stop. Your eyes are returning to the original position - closed, as well as trying to steady your breath.

The mystery person didn’t bother waking you. They slid out of the driver’s seat, moved with a hushed quiet around the car, and opened the passenger door to lift you from the passenger side as if you were a secret they’d kept all along. Your fake act of sleeping for many years is paying off. The only sounds you were hearing were how they walked from the car to the front door with you in their arms, and the mutter of the words.

“Thanks, Ki.”

Ki?

—

“Where’d you go last night, Y/N?” It was the first thing you heard as soon as you arrived at your first draining class of the day. Chemistry.

“Some random person came to pick me up. I think I drank too much.” You mumbled, the words feeling clumsy in your dry mouth. You collapse into the desk chair, the screech of its legs against the floor sending a sharp pain straight through your temples. “I think I'm hungover, fuck.” You instantly drop your head into your hands, trying your best to block out the unusually bright lights of the lab. “My head is pounding.”

What you didn't know was the specific nerd listening to your conversation. He was only a few tables ahead of you, at the front of the class. How he masked his listening as studying. His pen glided over the paper, writing nonsense because who would check, right? His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. Pen instantly stills at the sound of your groggy voice cutting through the morning chatter. He held his breath, listening intently, the chemical equations now forgotten.

“I don't even know who it was.” You continue, looking up at Giselle with furrowed eyebrows and a puff. “I mean, I heard Jaeyun say ‘Ki’, but who knows who that could've been!” You groan, digging your head into your arms in annoyance.

“Hey, I mean. I can help you find them?” Giselle offered, sitting down next to you, her hand rubbing your back soothingly. “I've dabbled a little bit on internet stalking, just tell me what you remember, hm?”

You look up at Giselle, who clearly had a sympathetic look on her face. Eyes narrowing as if to read any motive behind it, nodding with a tiny sigh.

“Yeah, that'd be helpful, thanks.” You smile softly at her as you tell her about the mysterious person. Thinking back to the party and how he carried you. All the details you could remember spilling out of your lips.

“I mean, he's a friend of Jaeyuns, and he also had a Ford Mustang.” You recounted how, watching Giselle's expression at the mention of the car, her eyes widened in shock and intrigue. “His nickname from Jaeyun was… Ki?” 

Giselle nodded with the final detail escaping your lips. Her hands are going to type on every website she can think of frantically.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing was found.

“How the hell is there nothing on this ‘Ki’ guy!” Giselle exclaimed, now feeling more frustrated than you did. It was your turn to calm her down, your hand rubbing her shoulders in a way that offered sympathy.

“You gave it your best shot, Giselle. That’s what matters.” You gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before pulling your hand away with a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll ask Jaeyun when we get home and see if he can help.” 

A spark of realisation lit in Giselle’s eyes, almost like she was a kid in a candy store. She leaned in so close you could practically smell the cherry lip gloss, her voice dropping into a whisper. “Y/N-! I think I know-” 

The school bell blared throughout the room at that exact moment, its harsh, electronic shriek drowning her words completely. Making both of you groan loudly, Giselle shoots you a look as if to say ‘I’ll tell you in a bit.” 

The professor barges into the room, his voice a booming monotone as he launches into a lecture about moles and ions, a topic that felt meaningless with everything going on already. You could only offer Giselle a weak nod, your mind still clinging onto the ghost of the name she almost said, now drowned out by the droning of atomic weights.

—

After chemistry, a mental fog rolled in, obscuring everything, including the memory of ‘Ki.’ Giselle seemed to have forgotten, too. The thought, once jarring and annoying, has now settled into the deepest part of your mind. An hour slipped into a day, a day melted into a week, until a full month had passed without a single thought of him.

The hallway was your runway. With your friends beside you, all of you owned it, your giggles echoing off the lockers. 

Manon was hanging on your every word, slapping your arm as you mocked your ex-situationship with the school's basketball captain, Takayama Riki. Taki. Even his name was a joke now. 

Distracted by what you were saying, you slammed into someone. The collision was straight out of a teen flick: a whirlwind of flying papers and a hard landing that left your ass aching. 

“Fuck, ow…” You groan as your friends surround you in worry. Looking at the thick-rimmed glasses of the boy,  you glare at him.

The same nerd who pissed you off, and you still couldn't name the boy. Unnamed and Irrelevant in your book.

“Watch it, nerd,” you spat, scrambling to your feet, your cheeks burning with annoyance. You didn't just step on his papers; you ground your heel into them. Your hands are in balls of rage, sharp nails piercing the skin of your palm lightly.

A deafening silence fell over your group, the hallway quiet enough you could hear a pindrop. The ‘nerd’ didn’t yell or shrink back. He just stared at the ground, at the perfect imprint of your sneaker on what you'd think was a simple physics diagram. Slowly, he kneeled to grab each sheet of paper.

“Apologise,” Manon said, her voice sharp, always the one to escalate the situation. That's what she was known for.

But he didn’t even look at her. His eyes, when they finally rose to meet yours, weren't filled with the tears or anger you expected. They were cold. Disappointed. As if you were the pathetic one.

“You’re stepping on Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle,” he said, his voice quiet but cutting through the hallway’s murmur. “Not that you’d know what that means.”

Your face flushed hot. He had spoken to you. He had actually spoken back. You blink at him in rage as you could hear Chaewon gasping and Giselle trying her best not to laugh at his comeback.

He just pushed his glasses up his nose, gave you one final, unreadable look.

Was he disappointed? Was he smirking? You couldn't tell.

He knelt to gather his papers, ignoring you completely. The dismissal was absolute. It was the most infuriating thing you had ever experienced.

Your mind raced, white-hot and blank. You couldn't think of a single cutting remark that would shatter his calm. Words had failed you. So you did the only thing you could think of.

SLAP!

The crack of your hand against his cheek echoed down the hallway. The background chatter of the school died instantly.

For a heartbeat, there was only silence. The boy’s head snapped to the side, his glasses knocked askew. A perfect, red handprint bloomed on his pale skin. Your chest heaves in anger and rage. 

As soon as you realised what happened, your mind started to race. You couldn't be here. You had to get out. Without a word to your friends, you turned and practically ran, the echo of the slap still ringing in your ears.

And there was one thing you couldn't deny: the guy was insanely hot.

—

As soon as you practically ran out, chaos erupted.

Everyone's chattering, booming in shock and amusement, at how the nerd could take down one of the most popular girls in school.

Manon gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and thrill. Giselle looked between Chaewon and Manon in disbelief.

And the nerd?

He simply knelt, quietly gathering his scattered papers. No one moved to help him; the only movement was the frantic shutter of phone cameras from a select few, documenting his humiliation.

His face was hidden, covered by his messed-up bangs. But if anyone had been close enough to see, they would have spotted a small, hidden smirk playing on his lips.

His cheeks were flushed red. Anyone would presume it was from anger or shame. But it wasn't. It was from lust. A deep, burning want. Desire. He had finally gotten a reaction.

—

You slammed the bathroom stall door shut, locking it and sliding down to the dirty floor. Your chest heaved, but you couldn’t catch your breath. 

The sound, that awful, crisp crack of your hand, replayed on a loop in your head. 

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to erase the image: the jerk of his head, the red mark on his cheek, the way his glasses flew off. 

And then that other image, the one that rose through the panic: the sharp cut of his jawline, the intensity in his eyes before you hit him. 

No. 

Stop it. He was just a random person.

A door swung open outside. “Y/N? Are you in here?” Manon’s voice echoed off the tiles, laced with excitement. “That was literally the most iconic thing I’ve ever seen!” 

But another voice, quieter, followed. 

“Y/N, you need to get out of here before someone catches you.” Chaewon. You dropped your head into your knees. 

This wasn't iconic. 

This was a disaster.

—

As the crowd's chatter began to die down, he finally stood, the papers stacked in his hands. He didn't look at anyone. He simply turned and walked away, leaving the whispers in his wake. 

Once he rounded a deserted corner, he stopped. He pulled one specific sheet from the middle of the stack. 

On the corner, smudged but perfectly defined, was the imprint of your shoe. He traced the pattern with his finger, a slow, satisfied smile finally spreading across his face.

Touch.

That's all he wanted from you, a feel of you. His hand slowly carried to his face, feeling the stinging burn of your slap on his cheek. 

He could still feel the ghost of your touch on his cheek. It wasn't pain he felt there now, but a burning warmth.

He could still smell your perfume, a velvet musk and something sharp, like what he'd imagine Victoria's Secret would smell like. The scent lingering in the air around him, like you were whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

It was the same scent he caught every time you passed him in the hallways and classes, a scent he’d tried and failed to find anywhere else. 

And now his skin was imprinted with your memory. He would wear the faint redness on his cheek like a badge of honour. He hoped it wouldn't fade.

—

A cold sweat woke you, your breath catching in your throat. The room was still dark, the only light the pale green glow of the clock:

6:47 am. 

You dragged a hand across your damp forehead, the dream already receding like a tide. But the feeling remained. The echo of a voice, the ghost of a smile you could never quite see. It was always the same. It always brought you back to the cringe-worthy moment that had locked in your fate, the reason you’d sworn to never look back at high school. The memory of your own actions, lashing out in a wave of misplaced anger, still burned with a fresh shame. Even if you wanted to, you could never go back.

With a groan, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, the floor cool against your feet. As you sat there, willing yourself to fully wake up, a faint bzzzt-bzzzt vibrated through your pillow.

You fumbled underneath the cotton case, your fingers closing around the cool, hard rectangle of your phone. The screen blazed to life, a blinding square of light that made you wince. You squinted, waiting for the spots to clear from your vision, until two frantic texts from Giselle came into focus:

6:34 am

Gigi!: ohemgee girl, check your email now

Gigi!: likeasap. YOU NEED TO SEE THIS.

Heart suddenly doing a strange, nervous flutter that had nothing to do with the dream, you tapped the notification. The sender's name made your breath hitch: Kang Taehyun. The same Taehyun who threw massive parties.  The subject line read: An Invitation for the Class of 2020.

You opened it.

Hello Everyone,

Hard to believe it's been five years already. I'm reaching out on behalf of a few of us to organise a reunion for our graduating class. It would be great to see everyone and catch up.

We've booked a private space at Dorsia for the evening of October 9th, starting at 6:30 PM. I've attached the details and a link to RSVP below. Please let us know if you can make it. 

P.S. You’re able to bring a +1.

Hope you're all doing well,

Taehyun

___ 

Hanlim Arts High School of 2020 Reunion

When: October 9, 2025, 6:30 PM

Where: The Dorsia, Highway 1009, Main Street

The air left your lungs. No. It couldn’t be. Five years of carefully built distance, obliterated by a single email. The name of the school stared back at you, a ghost from a life you’d deleted. Your fingers go back to reply to Giselle's texts.

6:55 am

You: Gigi, are you gonna go? 

A pause. The question hung in the digital air, a lifeline thrown to your friend. Of course, she was going. You were really asking if you had to.

You: I think we’re gonna have to text the girls…

Gigi!: I mean, duh? 👀

Gigi!: Would u miss this???

Gigi!: Imagine all the glow up, all the guys had. We HAVE to witness this.

You: truuuu 😩

You: If u text Chae and Manon

You: lmk what they say

Gigi!: nah too much work, I'll just make a gc

Gigi!: just like old times, yk?

Your phone instantly lit up, buzzing insistently in your hand. A new notification glowed on the screen, a stark and sudden bridge to the past you’d tried so hard to forget:

Giselle added You, Chaewon, and Manon to the group: THE GANG IS GETTING BACK 2GETHER.

Gigi!: OKAY GIRLS, DROP EVERYTHING

Gigi!: THE EMAIL. DID YOU GET THE EMAIL??

Manon: OMG what

Manon: I WAS STILL SLEEPING

Manon: HOLD ON

Manon: .

Manon: holy shit.

Chaewon: I’ve been awake. I’ve already stalked 37 Instagram accounts to see who got fat.

Chaewon: jus kiddin!!!!

Chaewon: Or am I?

Gigi!: SEE??? I TOLD YOU. CHAEWON IS ALREADY ON IT.

Gigi!: @You WE ARE GOING. NO ARGUMENTS.

You: fuck.

It was less a word and more a sigh of resignation. What else was there to say? The messages would keep buzzing, the world would keep turning. On autopilot, your body moved before your mind could protest any further, standing up from the side of the bed. The routine awaited: shower, coffee, commute. Life, stupidly, went on. 

—

The lull after the morning rush left you stranded by the cash register, a job you still owed your brother, Jaeyun, a major thank you for. He was a lifesaver like that. You traced the worn buttons on the machine, the mindless normalcy of the act a stark contrast to the earthquake that single email had triggered.

The bell above the door chimed, jerking you from your thoughts. A man in a sharp suit approached, his attention locked on his phone.

"Large black coffee. Extra hot," he said, the order delivered to his screen, not to you.

You nodded, your fingers hovering over the register.

Large…

Black…

But your mind was miles away, trapped in a high school hallway. Extra hot. Your fingers tapped the buttons on autopilot.

"That'll be $4.50," you said, your voice sounding thin and distant, like someone else's.

He held out his card, finally glancing up. His eyes flickered from your face to the screen and back again. He did a double-take. "You, uh... You might want to cancel that. You rang up an iced caramel latte with whipped cream."

Heat flooded your cheeks. Mortification, hot and familiar, washed over you. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry," you fumbled, quickly voiding the order. The mistake was a tiny, pathetic echo of the exact clumsiness you thought you'd outgrown. Your words tumbled out in a rushed apology. "I'll–I’ll add a free cookie to your order. To make up for it."

“Hey, it's okay. Everyone has an off day,” he said, a surprisingly gentle chuckle undercutting your panic as he handed his card over.

Flustered, you took it. “Is there a name for the order?” you asked, your voice still tight with embarrassment as you swiped the card.

“Nishimura Riki.”

Riki?

"Earth to Y/N. You gonna help me with these cups or just stare at that customer like a creep?"

You blinked. Your coworker, Park Sunghoon, was smirking at you from behind the espresso machine, a tub of wet spoons in his hand.

"Sorry," you mumbled, grabbing a towel and starting to dry.

"Whoa, what's with you?" he asked, his teasing tone softening. "You look like you just saw a ghost. Or your credit card bill."

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding. "Something like that. Just got some... weird news."

He raised an eyebrow. "Good weird or 'I need to change my name and move to Peru' weird?"

"Peru," you said without hesitation. "Definitely Peru."

“Oh? It’s that bad?” Sunghoon teased, nudging you with his shoulder as he snapped the lid on the coffee. He held it aloft. “Large black for Nishimura!”

The man approached the counter, his eyes still glued to his phone. He grabbed the coffee with a muttered “Thanks,” but then his gaze flickered up, finding yours. A quick, unexpected wink sent a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks before he turned and walked out. The bell gave a cheerful chime as the door swung shut behind him.

A snicker came from your left. “I think he likes you.”

You didn’t even have to look to know Sunghoon was grinning. His laugh followed, punctuated by a light, mocking slap on your shoulder.

“Fuck off!” you shot back, the words automatic, your face burning hotter than the espresso machine.

—

The rest of your shift passed in a blur of steam and muttered apologies. The name Nishimura Riki echoed in your skull, a taunting rhythm matching the hiss of the espresso machine. It couldn't be a coincidence. It had to be him.

You didn't even bother changing out of your coffee-stained apron. You drove straight to Jaeyun's apartment, the scent of burnt coffee beans clinging to you like a ghost.

You found him exactly where you expected: hunched over his desk, glasses perched on his nose, coding something that looked incomprehensibly boring. He didn't look up as you let yourself in.

"Hey," you said, your voice tight.

"Hey," he mumbled, his fingers never stilling on the keyboard. "What's up? You smell like a Starbucks exploded."

You took a deep breath, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Jaeyun. Who is 'Ki'?"

The typing stopped. The room went silent except for the low hum of his computer. He slowly spun his chair around to face you, his expression unreadable. "What?"

"Five years ago. That party at Taehyun's. You said you'd send your friend 'Ki' to pick me up. Who is he?"

Jaeyun's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. He took them off, pinching the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. "Why are you asking about this now? That was like, a long time ago."

"Just tell me," you pressed, your voice rising with a desperation that surprised even you. "His name was Nishimura Riki, wasn't it? The guy from your computer science class?"

A long, heavy silence stretched between you. Jaeyun studied your face, your coffee-splattered apron, your clenched fists. He saw the panic there.

He let out a long, weary sigh, the sound filled with a history of frustration you'd always been too self-absorbed to notice. "Yeah. Yeah, it was Riki. Nishimura Riki. My friend from the computer science class." He put his glasses back on, his gaze turning hard. "The one who drove you home when you were drunk, then, you know, slapped across the face a month later. Does that ring any bells?"

The confirmation was a physical blow. The air left your lungs. The nerd. The nerd was Ki. The nerd was the one with the veiny, delicate hands on the steering wheel. The nerd was the one who carried you to bed, who muttered "Thanks, Ki" to himself. The object of your confused hatred and your secret, shameful attraction was the same person.

You stumbled back, leaning against his doorframe for support. "Oh my god."

"Yeah. 'Oh my god,'" Jaeyun repeated, his voice flat. He stood up, finally abandoning his work. "And since we're finally talking about this, let's be clear about something. You're going to that reunion."

"I--"

He cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You are going to that reunion, and you are going to apologise to him."

"Apologise? To that-that-that–" The old, familiar bitterness rose in your throat, a pathetic defence mechanism.

"To what?" Jaeyun's voice sharpened, losing its usual patient cadence. "To the 'nerd'? Is that what you were going to say? To the guy who drove 30 minutes at midnight to pick your drunk ass up from a party you had no business being at? The one who carried you into the house because you were practically unconscious and didn't complain, not even once?"

He took a step toward you, and for the first time, you saw real anger in your brother's eyes. Not annoyance. Not frustration. Anger.

"He's my best friend, Y/N. And you've treated him like garbage since the day you met him because you were too busy being the 'popular girl' to see that he's the smartest, most decent person I know. That slap wasn't just some dramatic high school moment. It was cruel. And you owe him more than an apology. You owe him dignity you never gave him."

You stood there, utterly deflated. The fight drained out of you, replaced by a cold, sickening wave of shame. Jaeyun wasn't just teasing. He was dead serious. He had seen everything, and he had finally reached his limit.

The image of Riki, Ki, kneeling in the hallway, gathering his papers with that infuriatingly calm disappointment, flashed in your mind. But now it was overlayed with a new image: him carefully carrying you inside, his voice a murmur in the dark.

You had been the monster in both stories.

"Now," Jaeyun said, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. "Get out of my apartment. I have work to do. And you... You have a lot to think about before October 9th."

Wordlessly, you turned and left, the weight of his words, and the terrifying, exhilarating truth of who Nishimura Riki really was, settling on your shoulders like a lead cloak.

—

The day you had dreaded for a month had finally arrived. October 9th. The date glared at you from your phone screen, a digital verdict.

On the surface, everything was normal. Better than normal. The group chat was booming.

Manon was debating between sleek, straight hair and voluminous curls, sending frantic polls that expired in three minutes.

Chaewon was ruthlessly cyber-stalking every confirmed attendee, flooding the chat with Instagram screenshots and cryptic captions like, " glow down 😬" and "okay, he definitely got hot??"

Giselle was spamming the chat with mirror selfies, a different devastatingly chic outfit in each one. "Which one screams 'I'm too good for you but look anyway'?" she’d captioned the latest.

You watched the notifications stack up, each one a tiny hammer on the knot of anxiety in your stomach. You were supposed to be in there, hyping them up, picking your own outfit. Instead, you felt numb. You were an imposter in your own life, watching the pre-game for your own execution. 

A final, shuddering sigh escaped your lips. You couldn't ignore it any longer. You checked your phone: 4:30 PM. The numbers felt like a sentence.

Time to get ready.

The thought alone was a physical weight. Moving with the sluggish, heavy reluctance of a condemned prisoner, you pushed back the covers. The air felt colder than it should have. Each step from the bed to the bathroom was a small act of sheer will, a slow agony of dread and regret made manifest. The door seemed miles away. You didn't walk; you shuffled, your feet dragging across the carpet as if hoping it would swallow you whole before you reached the shower.

You scrubbed at your skin as if you could erase the day itself. The mirror was already fogging, a mercy. You didn't want to see your own anxious eyes. What outfit could armour you for this? What makeup could cover the shame? Your friends were outside right now, applying serums and lash glue, crafting their perfect "revenge bodies" into weapons. You just felt hollow. The persona of the popular girl felt like a costume that didn't fit anymore, and the thought of putting it on made your skin crawl.

Your hands stilled in your hair, lathered with shampoo. What if he wasn't there? That would be almost worse. It would mean this entire agonising production was for nothing. What if he were there? What if he were with someone? Someone smarter, prettier, kinder, someone who had never publicly assaulted him. What would you even say? "Hey, remember that time I hit you? My bad." The water began to run cold, but you barely noticed, frozen by the sheer number of ways tonight could end in disaster.

The steam from the shower followed you out, clinging to your skin as you wrapped yourself in a plush towel. For a moment, standing in the hazy, warm bathroom, the cherry and vanilla scent wrapping around you like a shield, you almost believed it. You did feel like a bad bitch. The familiar ritual of self-care had done its job, smoothing the raw edges of your panic into a low, manageable hum of nerves.

But then your eyes landed on the garment bag hanging on the back of the door. The Armour.

With a deep breath that did little to steady you, you unzipped it. The dress slid out, a waterfall of smooth, black fabric. It was a sleek, strapless design, a form-fitting silhouette that promised to accentuate every curve. This was the dress of a confident woman who owned every room she walked into. A woman you desperately needed to be tonight.

You stepped into it, the cool fabric a shock against your warm skin. You tugged it up and smoothed it over your hips, the structure of the dress cinching your waist perfectly. Then came the standout element: the dramatic ruffles that ran along both sides. You ran your fingers over their textured flair, the playfulness of them feeling at odds with the solemnity of your mission. It was an elegant yet playful look, balancing sophistication with a boldness you weren't sure you felt.

You turned to look in the mirror, the glass now clear of fog.

The woman staring back was a stranger. Sophisticated. Bold. Put-together.

If only she felt that way on the inside.

—

You felt nervous the moment you stepped out of the Uber. No, that wasn't strong enough. You felt terrified. The distinctive, commanding click of your Louboutins on the concrete path was supposed to make you feel powerful. Instead, each step was an excruciating drumroll leading toward the doors of Dorsia. Click. A step closer to your humiliation. Click. A step closer to him. Click. There was no stopping it now. You were here.

As soon as you entered the private room, all chatter stopped. All eyes landed on you, a reminder of what happened in the hallway. A reminder of the high school you wish you could forget. You could feel the weight of their gazes, a mix of curiosity and judgment. The air was thick with unspoken words, each person silently recalling the events that had unfolded just moments ago. You clenched your fists, trying to steady your racing heart as memories flooded back, whispers in the hall, laughter that had felt like daggers, and a sense of isolation that wrapped around you like a shroud.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the strength you had built since those days. This was a different space, a new chapter, and you were determined not to let the past define you. As you moved further into the room, you could hear the faintest murmurs begin again, a hushed mix of gossip and speculation.

“Isn’t that the one from…?”

“Did you hear what happened back then?”

But you held your head high, refusing to be a prisoner of your history. You scanned the room for a familiar face, someone who could anchor you amidst the swirling tides of judgment. This time, you would not be silenced.

You took a sharp inhale, a sad attempt to steady the frantic beat of your heart, and walked toward the table. And there they were. Giselle, Manon, and Chaewon. A perfect, glittering triangle of confidence.

For a breathtaking second, it was like no time had passed at all. The way they leaned in, the familiar arc of Manon’s laugh, the sharp, knowing glint in Giselle’s eye—it was a scene from a yearbook photo come to life. You were hit with a powerful, disorienting sense of déjà vu. You could almost feel the weight of your old letterman jacket, hear the roar of a Friday night football game. As if you guys were the popular group once again.

But the feeling shattered almost as soon as it formed. The backdrop wasn't the loud, sticky cafeteria but the dim, sophisticated glow of Dorsia. The drinks in their hands weren't smuggled vodka in soda cans, but elegant cocktails with twists of citrus. And you weren't the same person who ruled those halls. You were an imposter in a black dress, wearing a title that no longer fit, walking toward a past you had no right to reclaim.

“Y/N-! Oh my god, it’s been so long!” Manon exclaimed from excitement. Her eyes were practically glowing in the light.

Manon! Look at you!" you exclaimed, your own smile feeling real for the first time all night as you opened your arms for a hug. "God, it has been too long. I've missed you guys so much."

You looked between every single one of the girls you called best friends from high school. All looking stunning as usual. "I feel like I've aged a century. You guys look amazing. What's your secret? Botox or a deal with the devil?"

Giselle threw her head back and laughed, a sharp, familiar sound that cut through the party's buzz. "Honey, the devil was fresh out of deals, so we had to settle for a really good serum. I'll send you the link."

"Please do," you said, sliding into the empty chair they'd clearly saved for you. The simple gesture, they saved you a seat, sent a small, warm shock through your system.

Chaewon leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with the same mischievous glint you remembered. "But enough about us. We've been stalking everyone else all night. The real question is... have you seen him yet?"

You laughed nervously, rubbing your neck softly as you looked at Chaewon with worry. “Him? Whose ‘him’?” You tried to play dumb.

Chaewon raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a teasing smirk. “Oh, come on! You know exactly who I’m talking about, the nerd who just walked in and made everyone go quiet.”

A hot flush crept up your neck, burning your cheeks as the memories, the slap, the shame, the sound- flooded back. “I really don’t know what you mean,” you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant, but your voice came out thin and reedy, betraying you completely.

As if pulled by a magnetic force, your gaze flickered past your friends, across the crowded room, and landed on the entrance.

And there he was.

Nishimura Riki.

Yeah, you’d seen him at the coffee shop earlier while you were serving him, when you accidentally fucked up his order. But that was a blur of mortification, a glimpse through a panic-stricken haze. This… this was different. You had to do a double-take.

A triple-take.

The thick-rimmed glasses were gone. The hesitant posture had been replaced by an easy, confident stance. He’d filled out, his shoulders broad beneath a tailored suit that looked nothing like the ill-fitting sweaters he used to wear. He was scanning the room, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips, and for a terrifying, heart-stopping second, you felt a jolt of something entirely unfamiliar.

A strangled whisper escaped you before you could stop it, the words meant for yourself but loud enough for your friends to hear:

“When the hell did he get so hot?”

The table erupted.

Giselle slammed her palm on the table, making the glasses rattle. “I KNEW IT!” she crowed, her eyes wide with vindication. “I knew you weren’t just pissed at him! I called it! I called it sophomore year! You were obsessed!”

Manon’s jaw was practically on the floor. She grabbed your arm, her grip tight with excitement. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Y/N. Does this mean what I think it means? Does this mean the great, untouchable Y/N finally has a crush?” Her voice was a gleeful squeal.

Chaewon, ever the strategist, didn’t even look surprised. A slow, predatory smile spread across her lips as her eyes flickered between you and Riki, already calculating. “Okay. Okay. This is better than I planned. This is perfect,” she murmured, leaning in. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “So. What’s the play? Do we make him jealous? Do you want to go over there and finally apologise for, you know… the thing?”

“The thing?” Giselle cut in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You mean the time she publicly assaulted him in a hallway full of people? That thing? Yeah, maybe start with ‘sorry I hit you’ before you ask him to fuck you, Y/N.”

“Don’t remind me of that, Giselle,” you groaned, the words muffled as you shoved your head into your hands in utter frustration. The heat of a blush was still burning your ears. “I still have nightmares about the sound I-”

Ding-ding-ding!

A sharp, clear chime of a spoon against crystal cut through the party’s din, silencing your confession and every other conversation at once.

All eyes snapped toward the source of the sound. There, in the centre of the room, stood Kang Taehyun, holding a champagne flute aloft with a practised, charming smile.

"If I could have everyone's attention for a moment, please!" Taehyun announced, his voice effortlessly projecting across the suddenly quiet room. He smiled, a genuine, easy expression that put the room at ease.

"For those who don't know me, I'm Kang Taehyun, and five years ago, I was probably trying to sell you an energy drink before a midterm." Another laugh, this one a little more knowing.

"We're all here for one reason: to see what happened to the kids we spent our most formative years with. To celebrate how far we've come, and maybe laugh at how far we haven't. So, stop just staring at your old crushes from across the room," his eyes briefly, meaningfully, flicked in Riki’s direction before moving on, "and go say hello. The night's short. Make it count."

The room erupted in a wave of cheers and applause as Taehyun finished his speech, the sound swelling to fill the space before dissolving back into the hum of a dozen conversations reborn. Glasses were raised high in a spontaneous, unified toast, the golden liquid inside catching the light.

You laughed along with your friends, the sound a little too loud in your own ears, a performance of the easy joy everyone else seemed to feel. For a moment, you almost believed it. You let Giselle’s gossip and Manon’s dramatic story about her ex wash over you, clinging to the normalcy of it like a lifeline.

But then, a prickle of awareness crept up the nape of your neck.

It was a faint, almost imperceptible sensation at first. Then it came again, a slow, deliberate heat between your shoulder blades. Every so often, amidst the laughter and the clinking glasses, you felt it: a lingering gaze on the back of your head. Heavy. Intentional. It would settle for a few heartbeats, then vanish, only to return just as you began to relax.

Your smile would stiffen. Your laugh would catch in your throat. You’d take a hurried sip of your drink, the ice cold against your suddenly dry mouth. You never turned around. You didn’t have to. You knew, with a terrifying certainty, exactly who was watching you. 

You finally caved. Under the pretence of scanning the room for a waiter, you let your gaze casually sweep over your shoulder.

And immediately, you wished you hadn’t.

He wasn’t hiding. He was right there, leaning against the far wall, talking calmly with Lee Heeseung. But his attention wasn’t on his friend. It was squarely, undeniably, on you.

Your breath hitched. There was no anger in his expression. No lingering resentment from the hallway. Instead, his dark eyes held a look of intense, focused… appraisal. It was the way one might study a complex equation or a fascinating piece of art. He looked from the Louboutins on your feet, up the line of your dress, to the likely panicked expression on your face.

Then, he did the most terrifying thing of all.

He raised his glass to you in a silent, intimate toast. His eyebrow quirked up a fraction, as if to say, I see you. And I’m not the nervous one.

You whipped back around to face your friends, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. The room felt ten degrees hotter.

“Whoa.” Giselle was the first to speak, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She leaned forward, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across her face. “What was that?”

“What was what?” you deflected, reaching for your drink again, only to find your hand was trembling. You quickly clasped them together in your lap.

“Don’t know what was what’ us,” Chaewon chimed in, her voice a low, intrigued whisper. She followed your previous line of sight, her gaze scanning the crowd before snapping back to you. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. A really, really hot ghost.”

Manon reached out, her fingers brushing your cheek. “Babe, your face is literally on fire. What happened? Did you make eye contact? Did he smile? Did he frown? You have to give us something!”

You were surrounded. The one thing you wanted to hide was now the centre of their universe. The attention from across the room was a laser beam, but the attention at your table was a spotlight, and you were standing directly in the centre of it.

Your eyes dropped to the half-finished drink in front of you. Champagne. Bubbly, weak, and utterly insufficient for the sheer tidal wave of panic cresting inside you.

But it was something.

Without a second thought, your fingers closed around the cool, slender stem of the flute. You didn't sip. You didn't toast. You brought it to your lips and tilted your head back, chugging the rest of it down in one desperate, burning gulp, just like you had at Taehyun's party all those years ago.

The alcohol hit your empty stomach like a lit match—a small, fleeting explosion of warmth that did nothing to quell the earthquake within, but for one single, blessed second, it made you feel brave.

A stunned silence fell over the table.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Giselle blurted out, her eyebrows nearly in her hairline. “We’ve been sipping rosé all night like civilised people, and you just… shotgun a champagne flute? What did you see?”

“Whoa, easy there, party animal,” Manon laughed, but her eyes were wide with concern. She gently pried the empty glass from your death grip. “I thought we left our ‘chugging mystery punch’ days back in senior year. What’s going on?”

You leaned forward, a fabricated confidence sharpening your features. “I just thought, why not live a little…?” you purred, slowly and deliberately applying your lip gloss without breaking eye contact with Chaewon, your gaze challenging.

“Besides,” you added, snapping the gloss closed with a definitive click, “a little liquid courage is essential when you’re about to go apologise to a man you used to hate for being too smart and too pretty for his own good.” The statement hung in the air, a mission statement and a deflection all in one.

Before they could even process the confession, you flagged down a passing server, your voice unnaturally bright. “Does anyone else need a drink? I think we need another round. A real one this time. Tequila?”

But your bravado was a fragile shell, and everyone at the table knew it. Because you could feel Riki's gaze from across the room like a physical touch—a slow, deliberate heat tracing the line of your spine.

It wasn't the blank stare of a casual observer. It was loaded. It was the focused, analytical scrutiny of someone solving for a variable, and you were the unknown quantity in his equation. The hardness in it was a wall, a deliberate shield.

And you hated how your legs were shaking because of it.

—

After the reservation, the night dissolved into a pleasant, blurry momentum. "Bar hopping!" Taki declared, and the crowd eagerly agreed. You floated along with them, the world softening at the edges with every new drink and every new location, until the anxiety of earlier felt like a distant memory.

You lingered with your core group and a few stragglers from the reunion at the third bar, a dimly lit haunt where the bass thrummed deep in your chest. The vibes were, as Giselle would shriek, off the fucking roof. Huddled around a table littered with condensation-ringed glasses, you were lost in a fit of giggles that felt like a time machine straight back to high school.

But the past wasn’t so easily replicated.

The only and most electrifying difference was Riki.

He sat directly across from you, bracketed by Heeseung and Soobin, a silent king holding court. His long fingers stirred the ice in his Black Russian with a slow, hypnotic rhythm, the thin straw clicking softly against the glass. He wasn't laughing. He wasn't even speaking. He was just... watching.

And every few seconds, beneath the cover of dark lashes and the bar's moody light, his eyes would flick up to yours. It wasn't a glance. It was a searing, deliberate capture. A look so loaded it felt like a physical touch.

It held something unreadable yet utterly unmistakable. A dark, simmering lust. A deep, curious desire. A pure, simple want.

Maybe it was all three at once. The only thing you knew for certain was that it was aimed directly at you, and it made your knees buckle in need and pussy throb.

And clearly, Riki didn't miss the way it did. The corner of his lips curled into that infuriating smirk, the same one he'd worn the moment you slapped him. It was a mix of confidence and mischief that sent a jolt through you straight down to your heart and heat, igniting the tension in the air.

—

You hated it.

You hated his effect.

The way he kept teasing you.

Every time you pushed back from the table to brave the crowded bar for another round, he’d appear at your elbow moments later. The air would shift, charged with his proximity.

“What if you need help?” he’d murmur, his voice a low hum that vibrated right through you, drowning out the thumping music. It was never a question. It was a statement. An excuse.

He wouldn’t actually help, of course. That wasn’t the point. He’d just lean against the bar next to you, a silent, smirking sentinel, his presence a tangible force that made it impossibly hard to concentrate on your order. His arm would brush yours as he ‘made space’ for someone who wasn’t there. His scent, something clean and sharp like sandalwood and night air, would cut through the stale smell of beer.

He was toying with you. And the most infuriating, thrilling part was that you were letting him, and you were loving it.

As you carved a path through the pulsing crowd toward the bar, you didn't have to look back to know Riki was a shadow at your heels, his presence a familiar, aggravating heat between your shoulder blades.

You slid onto a stool and opened your mouth to rattle off the usual order for the table, but the bartender, a guy with kind eyes and an easy smile you’d been charming all night, beat you to it.

“The usual for the party, ma’am?” he asked, already reaching for glasses. He gave you a quick, friendly wink.

You rewarded him with a soft, flirty giggle, leaning conspiratorially over the polished wood. “You know it. But,” you added, dropping your voice to a mock-conspiratorial whisper, “make one of them a water. It’s for me. I’m the designated survivor tonight.”

The bartender laughed, a full-bodied sound that seemed to irritate Riki more than any direct insult could.

And to say Riki was fuming was the barest minimum.

A muscle feathered in his jaw, ticking with a tight, rhythmic pulse. His eyebrows were practically sewn together in a deep, thunderous furrow. A soft, furious red crept up his neck, clashing violently with the cool, detached facade he’d worn all night. He wasn't just annoyed; he was unravelling within a minute. And the fact that it was over a bartender’s wink and a glass of water made it all the more enraging in his book.

He took a half-step closer, his voice a low, dangerous growl meant for your ears only, the words vibrating through the tiny space between you. “Designated survivor? Since when do you know your limits?”

A small, involuntary shiver racked your spine at the low, proprietary rumble of his voice. You felt his hands then, not snaking, but claiming, as they settled on your waist, his grip firm and undeniably possessive. 

His touch was a brand through the fabric of your dress, and the heat of it seared you to your core. 

This wasn't just a casual touch; it was a statement. A primal, jealous declaration that screamed mine to anyone watching, and it made your breath catch in your throat.

For a terrifying, thrilling second, you didn't pull away. You froze, every nerve ending hyper-aware of the exact points where his fingers pressed into you.

This was a show of power. A display for anyone watching, the bartender, your friends, that screamed a single, primal message: Mine. The audacity of it should have made you shove him off. Instead, a traitorous heat flooded your veins, and you hated yourself for the way your breath hitched in your throat.

"Riki," you whispered, your tone almost a whimper, your voice a strained mixture of a weak warning and something else entirely. "Let go."

His grip only tightened, a fraction of an inch, pulling you back ever so slightly against him. "Make me," he challenged, his voice still that same low, devastating murmur meant only for you. His thumb stroked a slow, deliberate arc against the sensitive dip of your waist—a silent, teasing counterpoint to his demanding hold.

You hated yourself for this; you didn't want him to let go. You wanted him there forever. His hands burned into your skin like he owned you, and the most terrifying part was the part of you that wanted to let him. Your mind screamed in protest, a last piece of pride, but your body had already surrendered, melting back against the solid warmth of his chest in a silent, shameful answer to his challenge.

"Riki–" His name was a prayer and a protest on your lips. "Please." You were begging, and you hated it. It wasn't a plea for him to stop; it was a plea for more, for an end to the agonising, delicious tension. Your thoughts were a scrambled mess, but your body’s reaction was crystal clear: a throbbing, insistent ache between your thighs, a damp heat that proved just how much his presence unravelled you. He was making you hot and heavy, and every rational thought evaporated in the face of it.

Riki was just as gone as you were. His hands locked onto your waist like he was claiming territory, his hips grinding against you with a rhythm that left no room for doubt about what he wanted. You knew that want; it was your own. And when one hand slid down to grip your ass, a soft, possessive knead that drew a broken whimper from you, any last pretence between you was shattered.

A low, dark chuckle vibrated against your ear, a sound felt more than heard. "Please?" he echoed, his voice a velvet murmur laced with iron. "Please what, sweetheart?"

His grip on your waist tightened almost imperceptibly, his thumb stroking a slow, deliberate circle on the sensitive skin just above your hip bone. "Tell me what you're begging for." He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and the certainty in his tone was both a weapon and a promise.

"Because the way you're shaking against me isn't saying 'stop,'" he murmured, his voice a dark, thrilling vibration against your skin. He dipped his head, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he delivered the final, devastating blow. "It's saying you're mine."

The moment was shattered as the bartender reappeared, placing the tray of drinks on the counter with a clatter. He’d rimmed all the alcoholic drinks with sugar, whilst the water glass was only decorated with a small lime.

“Here’s that— oh.”

His cheerful announcement died in his throat. His eyes flickered from your flushed face, to Riki’s possessive grip on your waist, to the dark, warning look in Riki’s eyes that was as clear as a "Keep Off" sign.

A deep, embarrassed flush instantly crawled up the bartender’s neck. “Shit— sorry, man,” he stammered, taking a quick step back and raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Didn’t… didn’t know she was with you.”

He didn't correct him. Riki’s grip on your waist only tightened, a silent, arrogant confirmation. The words ‘with you’ hung in the air, transforming from an assumption into an undeniable fact.

The bartender vanished to serve other customers drinks in embarrassment, and as suddenly as he had grabbed you, Riki’s hands fell away.

The sudden lack of his heat felt like a cold shock. You almost stumbled back, your body protesting the loss of contact.

He took a deliberate step back, his expression shifting back to that infuriating, unreadable mask. He picked up his Black Russian, took a slow sip, and looked at you over the rim of the glass, a single eyebrow raised.

“Your water’s getting warm,” he said, his voice flat and casual, as if the last earth-shattering minute had never happened. The whiplash was dizzying. He had marked his territory, gotten the validation he wanted, and now he was just… done. Leaving you standing there, a trembling, wet, horny mess.

Oh, he wanted to play games? Fine. Two could play at that.

A sharp, dangerous smile touched your lips. You snatched the tray from the bar, the marked water glass a glaring testament to the scene he’d just caused. You didn’t prance; you stalked back to your table, your hips swinging with a newfound, defiant rhythm, putting on a performance meant for an audience of one.

Your friends’ chatter died down as you approached. Their eyes were wide, flicking from your flushed face to the tense set of your shoulders.

“Y/N,” Giselle asked, her voice laced with amused suspicion as you unceremoniously dropped the tray onto the table. “What the hell took so long? And why do you look like you’re about to declare war on someone?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said, your voice dripping with a casual sweetness you didn’t feel. “Just a cute boy flirting with me.” You winked at Giselle, a deliberate, playful gesture meant to be seen by everyone at the table, and one person in particular.

You brought the water glass to your lips, the one with the stupid, tiny piece of lime on it. But you didn’t take a sip. You held it there, your eyes locking directly with Riki’s from across the table over the rim.

The air crackled. His jaw tightened, his playful smirk vanishing into a hard, flat line. You saw the exact moment your words registered, the dark flicker of something possessive and dangerous in his gaze.

Giselle followed your line of sight, her eyes widening with dawning, delighted understanding. “Oh my god,” she whispered, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re trying to get yourself killed.”

You finally took a slow, deliberate sip of water, your gaze never leaving Riki’s. “Maybe,” you murmured, the word a soft, challenging promise. “Or maybe I’m just starting to play.”

The games began in earnest.

You made a show of laughing a little too loudly at something Heeseung said, your hand resting on his arm for a beat too long. From across the table, you felt the temperature drop as Riki’s knuckles turned white around his glass.

Not to be outdone, when a mutual friend slid into the seat beside him, Riki offered a smile you’d never seen before, charming, easy, and entirely directed at her. He leaned in close to hear her over the music, his hand coming to rest on the back of her chair. It was a masterclass in feigned intimacy, and it made your stomach twist.

It was a silent war of attrition, each volley designed to provoke, each calculated touch a declaration: I can make you feel this, too.

You practically rolled your eyes at his antics. You decided to raise the stakes. You excused yourself from the table and didn’t look back. You made a beeline for the group of guys by the pool table, friends of Taehyun you vaguely recognised from the reunion. You turned on the full force of your charm, laughing, flipping your hair, letting one of them show you how to hold a cue stick.

You didn’t have to look to feel Riki’s gaze burning a hole into your back. It was to the point that the girl left in frustration. You could feel his attention like a physical weight, a laser focus that drowned out all other noise. You were playing with fire, and you knew it.

—

You leaned over the pool table, lining up a shot you had no intention of making, when a familiar, sandalwood and night air scent washed over you. A cold, strong hand settled on the small of your back, not guiding, but claiming.

"Sorry, gentlemen," Riki's voice was a low, pleasant hum, a stark contrast to the ice in his eyes when you glanced up. "I need to steal my girlfriend for a moment. She promised me the next dance."

The guy with the cue stick faltered, instantly reading the territorial warning in Riki's deceptively calm smile. Before you could even form a protest, Riki’s arm was a firm, unyielding band around your waist, steering you away from the group and toward the dimly lit hallway that led to the restrooms.

His grip was possessive, his pace deliberate. He didn't say a word until he shouldered open the door to the supply closet, pulling you inside and closing the door with a soft, definitive click. The sudden silence was deafening.

“Ow– Riki, what the fuck?” You gasp out as he finally lets go of your wrist with a small red tint. 

He didn’t say anything, nor did he push you against the wall. He simply caged you in, one hand on the door by your head, the other still on your waist, his body close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

“Enjoying your little game?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. His eyes roamed your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your gaze again.

Bingo.

A slow, defiant smile spread across your lips. “Immensely,” you purred, your voice just as low and challenging as his. You didn't try to push him away. Instead, you leaned forward, closing the minuscule distance between you until your lips were a breath from his. “Though it’s more fun now that you’ve decided to be a player and not just a spectator.”

You let your eyes drop to his mouth, returning his gaze with equal intensity. “Are you enjoying it, Riki? Or is losing not really your thing?”

Riki was at a loss for words. For a breathtaking second, the cool, controlled mask he’d worn all night finally shattered. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his breath catching in his throat at your audacity, your proximity, the devastating truth of your challenge.

The silence stretched, thick and charged. Then, a low, rough sound escaped him—not a laugh, not a groan, but something raw and utterly captivated.

His hand slid from the door, his fingers instead tangling fiercely into the hair at the nape of your neck, tilting your head back. The other arm snaked fully around your waist, crushing you against him, eliminating any last pretence of space between you.

"Losing?" he finally growled, his voice a dark, ragged thing that vibrated through your very bones. His forehead dropped against yours, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs.

"Sweetheart, this stopped being a game the moment you walked into that party. I'm not playing to win. I'm playing for keeps."

And then his mouth crashed down onto yours. The kiss wasn't soft, no. It was filled with want, need and lust. The same one from 5 years ago, when you slapped him. The same one he enjoyed. 

A low grunt escaped his lips, and soft moans escaped yours as you battled for dominance. Tongues sneaking into each other's mouths. Your hands snaked around his neck and tangled in his hair, while his hands roam around your waist and squeeze your ass in possession, making you gasp.

A win for him.

He smirked into the kiss as he slid his tongue into your mouth, the sounds wet and arousing to both of you. His hands slowly drag down your bottom to lift the fabric of your black dress just above your waist.

“Wait– Riki–” You moan into the kiss, making him instantly stop in worry, pulling away.

“Do you not want to continue, baby?” He said with worried eyebrows. His lips glistening and swollen under the dim light of the bathroom. 

And you hate to say the more you look, the more you need him right now. 

“No– it's not that, can we just… do it at one of our houses–? Not a fucking bathroom stall.” You muttered softly as your hand rubbed his neck to soothe him. These words instantly switched something on inside of him. 

He rushed to pull down your dress just so it could cover your ass enough, and unlocked the stall to drag you with him outside. He didn't care who saw him and his boner; he could save the embarrassment for another day. 

What he knew was that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

—

You didn't even make it to the bedroom when he pushed you against the wall of his apartment. Lips crashing once again, yet this time it’s filled with lust, but a hidden sensation of… love? Softness? Care? 

You couldn't tell, nor did you care.

Your hands were back tangled in his hair, and his hands were back on your ass, pushing the fabric of your dress to your hips. His fingers are dragging up and down your lower spine, making you shiver and moan into the kiss.

A ragged gasp escaped you as his knuckles brushed the sensitive skin beneath your waistband. “Fuck— Riki, please—” you begged, the words torn from your lips in less a protest and more a surrender to the agonising, electric tension coiling deep in your stomach. You were shaking, utterly at the mercy of his teasing touch.

"Up," he growled against your mouth, the command muffled by the desperate crush of his kiss. You obeyed instantly, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands caught you under your thighs, gripping your ass firmly to hold you aloft as he carried you through the hallway of his apartment. He moved with single-minded purpose, shouldering past doorframes, not even flinching as he sent a framed photo clattering to the floor, his focus entirely on you.

He lowered you onto the bed, following you down like a shadow. His shirt was gone, discarded somewhere in the frenzy. Then he was there, his hot breath ghosting over the aching heat between your legs before his mouth found you. His tongue dragged a slow, torturous stripe right through the damp fabric of your panties, and a broken moan was ripped from your throat, your entire body shuddering from the shock of the sensation. Your thighs instinctively tried to clamp together around his head, a weak attempt to contain the overwhelming pleasure. "Fuck—!" you cried out, your fingers tangling in the sheets.

He let out a low chuckle at your reaction, amused and unbothered. Those strong hands, the very ones you used to dream about years ago, gently guided your legs back into place. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit, teasing, tender. “Cute,” he murmured, voice thick with heat. “Don’t hide from me, baby.”

His teeth tugged your panties aside with deliberate care, revealing the glistening evidence of your need. The sight made him hum with quiet satisfaction, a teasing coo slipping from his lips. “All this for me?” he murmured, voice low and indulgent, pressing a tender kiss to your inner thigh that made your skin ache for more.

“Riki— please,” you gasped, voice trembling with need. Your fingers tangled in his hair, desperate and firm, guiding him closer until his breath ghosted over your soaked folds. He didn’t rush. His nose brushed your clit with agonising softness, sending a jolt through your body that made your hips twitch and a moan spill from your lips.

He paused there, savouring the moment, letting the heat between you thicken. His eyes flicked up, dark and unreadable, before he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss just below your clit, mean, teasing. You whimpered, thighs tightening around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but he held firm, savouring your unravelling.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured against your skin, voice low and indulgent. “So sensitive already… I haven’t even started.”

You let out a desperate, broken sob, the ache between your legs growing unbearable with every second of neglect. Your clit throbbed with need, pulsing in time with your heartbeat, begging for relief. Fingers tangled in his hair, you tried to pull him closer, your grip trembling with urgency — pleading for anything, any touch, any flicker of attention.

Your hips bucked instinctively, chasing the phantom of his mouth, your body betraying you with its hunger. The air felt thick, heavy with anticipation, and the absence of his touch was maddening. You whimpered again, voice cracking as you tugged harder, nails scraping his scalp in frustration.

“Please,” you breathed, barely coherent, your voice soaked in longing. “I need you.”

He smirked against your skin, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “So needy,” he murmured, voice low and indulgent. “You think I don’t know exactly what you want?” His lips brushed your clit, featherlight, maddening. “Beg a little louder, baby. I want to hear how desperate you are.”

“Riki– I swear to God, if you don’t put your mouth on my pussy—!” The threat barely left your lips before it was swallowed by a sudden, slow lick that dragged up your soaked folds, silencing you with a gasp. Your breath hitched, body jolting as his tongue traced every inch of your arousal with maddening precision.

Then came the sharp, deliberate suction against your clit, a harsh pull that sent a shockwave through your core, forcing a moan from deep in your throat as your hips bucked upward, chasing the sensation. Your fingers clenched in his hair, nails scraping his scalp, desperate for more, for anything that would ease the ache he’d built so mercilessly.

He didn’t speak. 

He didn’t need to. 

His mouth said everything, worshipping you with a hunger that bordered on reverence, each movement calculated to unravel you. You could feel yourself coming undone, piece by piece, under the weight of his tongue and the heat of his gaze.

“You were saying?” he murmured against your soaked folds, the low vibration of his voice sending a tremor straight through your core. The sound alone made your breath hitch, but the sensation, his lips brushing your skin, his words melting into you, pulled a sob from your throat, thick with aching desire.

His tongue moved with maddening patience, tracing slow, deliberate circles around your entrance. The wet heat of him teased the rim of your slick hole, just barely breaching it, just enough to make your walls flutter in anticipation. You could feel every subtle movement, every calculated flick and prod, like he was savouring the way your body responded to him. Trembling. Clenching. Begging without words.

Your hips rolled instinctively, chasing more, but he held you steady, his grip firm and possessive. He pulled back just enough to let his breath fan across your skin, then dipped in again, tongue pressing a little deeper, tasting you like he had all the time in the world.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice thick and indulgent. “Falling apart just from my mouth. You’re so fucking perfect like this.”

You clenched involuntarily at the sound of his praise, a sharp, breathless whine slipping from your lips before you could stop it. Your body betrayed you, trembling under the weight of his voice and the slow, deliberate movements of his tongue.

“You like that, baby?” he drawled, voice thick with amusement, the edge of a smirk audible in his tone. “You like being praised?” His words were mocking, but laced with something darker, possessive, knowing.

The wet heat of his tongue pressed deeper, the muscle pushing past the rim of your entrance, teasing your walls with maddening precision. Your hips twitched, trying to take more, but he held you steady, savouring the way you writhed beneath him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin between each word. “So desperate for approval. So easy to unravel.”

His fingers trailed upward with deliberate intent, the pads brushing over slick skin until they found your clit. He began to rub slow, delicate circles, teasing, coaxing, never quite giving you what you craved, needed. Each motion was maddeningly precise, syncing with the rhythm of his tongue as it pushed deeper, fucking you with wet heat and unrelenting patience.

Whines spilled from your lips, soft and broken, mingling with breathy moans that echoed in the room. Your body trembled beneath him, hips twitching with every flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers. The pressure built low in your belly, a molten ache pooling deep inside you,u sharp, insistent, but just out of reach.

His eyes flicked upward, locking onto your face as his tongue continued its slow, deliberate rhythm — thrusting in and out with maddening precision. His fingers never faltered, still circling your clit in gentle, teasing motions that kept you on the edge. Your lips were parted, cheeks flushed, and your brows drawn together in a desperate expression that made his chest tighten with satisfaction.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, voice low and reverent. He pulled back just enough to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh, letting his breath linger against your skin. “I want you to feel every second of it. No rushing. No escaping.”

Your fingers tightened in his hair, trembling with need. “Riki– please,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as your hips rolled helplessly beneath him. “I want to…”

He didn’t let you finish. His grip on your thighs firmed, grounding you in place as he leaned in again, lips brushing your folds but not quite touching. “Not yet,” he murmured, voice thick with control and heat. “You’ll come when I say you can. Not a second before.”

Your body trembled at his words, the ache in her belly growing sharper, deeper, a tension wound so tight it felt like it might snap. 

And still, he held you there, suspended in the space between pleasure and release, savouring every moment of her unravelling.

You sobbed, the sound raw and pleading, spilling from you without restraint. You wanted to come–  no, you needed to. The ache had bloomed into something feral, clawing at your insides, begging for release. Your fingers trembled in his hair, your thighs quivered around his shoulders, and your voice cracked as you gasped his name again.

“Riki– please,” you choked out, barely coherent. “I can’t… I need to…”

But he didn’t move faster. He didn’t give in. He just watched you, lips brushing your skin, eyes dark with satisfaction as he kept you on the edge, right where he wanted you.

Riki finally gives in, not out of mercy, but because he wants to watch you fall apart completely.

He watches you sob, trembling and pleading, and finally lowers his mouth again with purpose. No teasing now, his tongue and fingers work in tandem, relentless and precise. “Now,” he growls, and the permission alone sends you spiralling. 

Your body arched violently, a cry ripping from your throat as the orgasm surged through you, hot, relentless, and all-consuming. 

It wasn’t gentle. 

It was feral, like your body had been waiting too long and now refused to hold back. Your thighs clamped around his head, fingers tangled in his hair, and your entire being pulsed with release.

But he didn’t stop.

His tongue stayed firm, thrusting deeper, licking up every wave of your climax like he was starving for it. His fingers never faltered, circling your clit with just enough pressure to keep the pleasure burning. You gasped, sobbed, tried to pull away, but he held you down, mouth locked to your core, dragging you into a second orgasm before you’d even recovered from the first.

Your body convulsed, overstimulated and trembling, the pleasure now bordering on pain, sharp, electric, and impossible to escape. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you whimpered his name like a prayer, like a plea.

“Riki—!,” you choked out, voice barely a whisper.

He finally pulled back, lips glistening, eyes dark and satisfied. His hands soothed over your thighs, grounding you, steadying the tremble in your limbs.

“You’re perfect like this,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Completely undone. Mine.”

His chin glistened with your arousal, the evidence of his devotion smeared across his skin like a badge of pride. One hand drifted lazily up your trembling thigh, fingers trailing heat in their wake before tapping your clit with maddening softness. 

The touch was featherlight, but it sent a jolt through you, a sharp, involuntary moan tearing from your throat as your thighs instinctively snapped shut around his hand, as if to shield yourself from the overwhelming sensation.

He chuckled, low and amused, the sound vibrating through the air like velvet. “Sensitive,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “I like that.”

Then his hands moved lower, slow and deliberate, fingers brushing over the waistband of his pants. Your breath caught as he shifted back just enough for you to see it,  the outline straining against the fabric, bold and unmistakable.

Holy shit.

Your eyes widened, heart stuttering in your chest. The imprint of his cock was impossible to ignore. Thick, long, and pulsing with restrained need. It looked almost unreal, the kind of thing you’d fantasised about but never dared to expect. Your mouth went dry, and your thighs clenched tighter, not from protection this time, but from anticipation.

He caught your stare and smirked, hands still hovering at his waistband. “You see what you do to me?” he said, voice low and teasing. “And I haven’t even really touched you yet.”

He let out another low chuckle, the sound vibrating in his chest as his fingers moved to the button of his pants. He didn’t rush. 

Each movement was deliberate, teasing, and designed to make you watch. The button popped open with a soft click, and then came the slow drag of the zipper, the sound slicing through the thick air between you like a promise.

“Baby,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours, voice rough with heat. “This is what you did to me… when you slapped me, remember?” His tone was half amused, half reverent, like the memory itself still haunted him in the best way.

He groaned as he pushed his pants down, dragging his underwear with them in one fluid motion. The cool air hit his tip, and he hissed through his teeth, the sudden contrast making him throb with need. His cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, the sheer size of it making your breath catch. It was thick, veined, and achingly hard.

The kind of thing that made your thighs press together instinctively.

“Five years ago,” he continued, voice quieter now, almost reflective, “I would’ve killed for another slap. Another touch. Just one more taste of you.”

He shuffled closer on the bed, the tension between you crackling like static. “And now,” he whispered, reaching down to stroke himself slowly, eyes never leaving yours, “you’re right here. And I’m not wasting a second.”

“You’ve been teasing me for years,” he says, voice low and rough. “Now I’m going to show you what that’s earned.”

He hovers over you, positioning himself between your trembling thighs. His tip brushes your entrance, slick and aching, and you gasp at the contact, not quite inside, but close enough to make your body cry out for more.

But he doesn’t thrust. Not yet.

Instead, he leans down, lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re going to feel every inch of me. Slowly. Deeply. Until you forget how to say anything but my name.”

His hips roll forward just enough to press the head of his cock inside, stretching you with a delicious burn. Your back arches, a moan spilling from your lips as he sinks in, inch by inch, agonizingly slow, letting you feel every ridge, every pulse, every ounce of him.

And when he’s fully buried inside you, he practically moans at the feeling of your warmth. He pauses, letting you adjust, letting you feel the weight of him.

“Five years,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion and lust. “And now you’re mine.”

His hips began to move, slow and deliberate, each thrust sinking deeper than the last, dragging a moan from your throat with every inch. He stayed close, chest pressed to yours, lips brushing your ear as he whispered sweet nothings,  words soaked in possession, and aching desire.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, the rhythm of his thrusts syncing with the cadence of his voice. “I’ve dreamed of this… of you… every damn night. Ever since high school… fuck–”

His breath was hot against your skin, his words wrapping around you like silk, grounding you in the moment even as your body trembled beneath him. He kissed the shell of your ear, your jaw, your neck, each touch soft, almost like he was worshipping you, in contrast to the slow, deep roll of his hips.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, voice rougher now, more certain. “Every inch of you. Every sound you make. Every time you clench around me like that…”

You gasped, nails digging into his back as the pleasure built again, slow and steady, like a tide rising with no intention of retreating. He didn’t rush. He wanted you to feel it — all of it — the weight of his body, the heat of his breath, the truth in his voice.

And you did. You felt everything.

Riki leans over you, his cock heavy and flushed, brushing against your slick folds as he hovers just out of reach. His eyes are locked on yours, dark, intense, and filled with something deeper than lust. Something that’s been simmering for years.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he murmurs, voice low and reverent. “To feel you. To hear you. To have you like this.”

He slides the tip along your entrance, gathering your wetness, teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes that make your breath hitch and your hips chase him. But he doesn’t give in, not yet. He wants you to feel every second of it.

Then, with one steady roll of his hips, he pushes inside you again.

The stretch is deep, delicious, and overwhelming. Your body arches, a gasp escaping your lips as he fills you inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. He groans, a sound torn from his chest and leans down to kiss you, slow and possessive.

His thrusts begin again, deeper now, more purposeful. He’s not just fucking you — he’s claiming you, grounding you in every moment, every breath, every sound.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips. “And I’m never letting you go again.”

“Fuck– Riki– I'm gonna…!” The words tore from your throat, half moan, half sob, your voice trembling with the force of what was building inside you. Your body was no longer yours; it was his, completely, trembling and arching beneath every thrust, every whispered word, every brush of his skin against yours.

Your second orgasm surged toward you like a tidal wave, stronger, deeper, more consuming than the first. It wasn’t just pleasure, it was release, desperation, and years of longing crashing together in one overwhelming rush. Your thighs trembled, your nails dug into his back, and your breath came in broken gasps as your body clenched around him, begging for permission, for relief.

And you could feel it. The way Riki’s rhythm faltered, the way his breath hitched against your neck, the way his grip on your hips tightened like he was holding on for dear life. He was close too. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his cock pulsed inside you, the way his groan rumbled low in his chest as he buried himself deeper.

“Come for me,” he growled, voice thick and wrecked, lips brushing your ear. “Let go. I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

And with that, you shattered. Completely, utterly, beautifully.

Your body convulsed around him, the second orgasm crashing through you like waves, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath his weight. Riki groaned, low, as your walls clenched tight around him, dragging him over the edge with you. His hips stuttered, and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep, spilling into you with a broken moan that sounded like your name.

For a moment, everything was still.

The only sounds were your ragged breaths, the soft hum of the night outside, and the quiet thud of his heartbeat against your chest. His forehead rested against yours, damp with sweat, and his arms wrapped around you like he couldn’t bear to let go.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, voice hoarse and reverent. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over you.”

You blinked up at him, dazed and flushed, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his spine. There was something raw in his eyes, not just lust, but longing. History. The weight of five years spent wanting, waiting, aching.

He kissed you then, deep and grounding. Not rushed. Not hungry.

Just… real.

And in that kiss, you felt it: the promise of something more. Not just sex.

Not just heat. But the beginning of something that had waited far too long to bloom.

It didn’t stop there. A month into the marriage, you started finding presents sprawled across the bed—silk slips in your size, perfume bottles, lace sets you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing until he coaxed you into them. He’d linger in the doorway, eyes hungry yet patient, waiting for your reaction. Always hinting at more, but never pushing until you gave him the yes.

Soft jazz played one evening when you lay face down on his bed, bra off, your back gleaming with oil as his hands kneaded the knots out of you. His fingers pressed between your shoulder blades, sliding lower, palms spreading across your waist like he was shaping you with touch alone. Other nights, he drew you warm bubble baths, dimming the lights until the bathroom smelled of roses and vanilla, his shadow a constant at your side as he rinsed the suds from your skin.

When you finally consummated, his cock stretched you open in a way that had you clawing his shoulders, your legs trembling as you wrapped them tight around his waist. He kissed your mouth, your throat, the valley of your breasts, his voice hoarse against your lips. “Too much?” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours as his cock pushed deeper, thick veins dragging slow across your walls, pulling wet sounds out of your body that made his composure crumble. His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, massaging the stress out of you even as you whimpered at the intrusion.

Your cunt gushed around him, creamy slick spilling as your nails dug crescent moons into his back. He groaned when your walls fluttered, unable to hold back himself, spilling thickly inside you as you sobbed into his neck. His body collapsed half over yours, trembling as he whispered your name like a prayer.

After that night, the months were nothing but sensual love. He still made breakfast with ingredients so fresh they tasted like sunlight. Still poured you oysters and wine on date nights. But now he was there in the bath too—your back to his chest as he washed your tits under the hot spray, his cock pressing against your ass while his soapy fingers slid between your thighs to touch your folds. Some nights he took you slow, his lips trailing down your stomach as he worshipped you. Other nights he bent you over the bathroom sink, fucking you hard enough your moans fogged the mirror.

Jay loved silk, and he loved you in it. He’d buy lingerie so sheer your nipples pressed through, lace panties that clung to your folds until he tugged them aside with practiced fingers. “Too much?” he’d murmur, always asking as his lips circled your nipple, his tongue teasing through the fabric until you writhed. He’d bind your wrists softly with ribbon, kiss your throat as his knuckles dragged down your stomach, until your thighs spread wide without him having to ask.

One night, the bedroom glowed only with candles, roses blooming on the nightstand, wax scent mixing with your perfume. He stayed dressed—still in his suit, still pristine—while you lay open in lace he had chosen. The contrast alone made your pussy ache. He stroked himself lazily, cock heavy and veined, precum pearling at the flushed mushroom tip before he pressed it against your folds, tapping gently until the wet sound filled the room.

“Want this?” he teased, sliding just the head inside before pulling away, letting the soaked fabric of your panties stretch with it. You whimpered, hips rolling, face burning.

“Want it… inside,” you finally admitted, words shameful and breathless.

He held your chin, kissed you slow, whispered against your mouth “Baby, we’re married. It’s okay.” And when he finally slid inside, deep and deliberate, his cock spreading you inch by inch, the lace pushed aside but still brushing your clit, you swore you’d never feel love like this again. Arranged or not, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

During recess, she notices how Sunghoon remains by himself, playing on the swings alone. She always invites him to play tag with the rest of the kids, but he shakes his head.

One day, instead of playing tag with everyone else, Y/N sits on the swing next to Sunghoon. They swing in silence for a few minutes until she turns to him.

“Do you want to see something cool?” She asks him.

He looks over at her skeptically, but once he sees her big smile, he reluctantly nods. She cheers before getting up from her swing and grabbing his hand, pulling him to a rocky patch at the edge of the park. Sunghoon watches curiously as she starts flipping over the rocks and moving rotting leaves with a stick.

“Aha!” she exclaims, moving the leaves with her hands. “Look!”

He peeks over her shoulder to see a metallic green beetle scuttling along the dirt. He cringes away immediately with a small shriek. She looks up at him and giggles.

“Isn’t it cute?” she asks, picking up the beetle with her fingers.

“D-don’t touch it,” he stammers.

“Why not? My dad said they’re harmless,” she says, holding out the beetle towards him.

Sunghoon takes multiple steps back. He’s scared of the bug, but he’s also wondering if she’s doing all of this as a way to make fun of him. He’s “Bug Eyes” after all. She notices his discomfort and puts the beetle back underneath the leaves.

“You don’t like bugs?”

He shakes his head.

“Oh, sorry,” she says, walking over to him. “I love bugs.”

He stares at her as if she’s lost her mind.

“I think they’re cute,” she says, “You don’t like any bugs?”

He shakes his head.

“Not even butterflies?”

He shakes his head again.

“What do you like then?”

“I like fish…” he says softly.

“Fish are cool. Do you have a favorite?” she asks.

Sunghoon nods and starts to quietly tell her about his favorite fish. It’s the first time Y/N has ever gotten him to talk to her for more than three sentences, and she’s excited. She keeps asking him about different fish, if he likes fishing, if he has any pet fish, and so on. Sunghoon slowly opens up and happily answers her questions.

“What’s your favorite bug?” he asks shyly.

This triggers a long spiel from Y/N about different types of bugs she likes. By this point, they’re back on the swings, and Sunghoon is gently swinging his feet and listening to her quietly with a bashful smile on his lips.

One day during P.E., when they’re both age 7, groups needed to be formed to play a game of dodgeball. As students were being picked one by one, Sunghoon stood there awkwardly knowing the teams would fight to NOT get him on their team.

“Bug Eyes is so uncoordinated.”

“Yeah, he’ll make us lose.”

“Hey, stop that!” Y/N storms over to the two boys that were making fun of Sunghoon.

Sunghoon stands quietly with his head slightly downcast. She has her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

“What? It’s true,” one of the boys says.

“Say you’re sorry,” she huffs.

“Or what?” the other boy challenges.

Sunghoon watches with horror as she picks up a dodgeball and hurls it at the boy’s face. The sound the ball makes as it slaps the boy’s cheek echoes through the gymnasium, making everyone fall silent and look over in their direction. The boy that got hit starts crying while his friend looks back at Y/N with fire in his eyes.

“Bug Girl is defending Bug Eyes. How fitting,” he snarls.

He picks up a dodgeball, rolling it in his hand.

“It’s a perfect match,” he says just before he hurls the ball at her.

She tenses and closes her eyes, waiting for the ball to hit her. She hears another slap of the ball against skin, but she doesn’t feel anything hit her. When she opens her eyes, she finds Sunghoon on the floor in front of her with his glasses broken and scattered on the ground.

“Oh my god. Are you okay?” she crouches down to look at Sunghoon. His face is red from where the ball hit him. He nods ever so slightly, his hand trembling as he cradles his face.

Y/N’s head snaps up to glare at the other boy. Before anyone could stop her, she hurls herself at him, knocking him down to the floor with a thud. She starts yanking at his hair as he begins to scream.

The fight is over quickly, the teacher pulling Y/N off the boy and sending them all to the principal’s office. She gets suspended from school for a week, and when she comes back she’s shunned by most of the kids in her class.

She’s swinging alone during recess when a timid Sunghoon comes up to her. His glasses are taped back together and his hands are clasped together in front of him.

“Do you want to see something cool?” he asks softly.

She nods, her eyes flickering down to his hands. He unclasps them to reveal a spotted black and white beetle. Her eyes sparkle with excitement.

“Oh my god. An ironclad beetle!” she exclaims.

As she gets closer, she notices his hands slightly shaking. She immediately takes the beetle from his hands and watches as he brings his arms back to his sides and wipes his hands on his pants.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“For what?” She asks as she watches the beetle crawl between her fingers.

“For making everyone hate you.”

“It’s okay. You’re cooler than all of them combined,” she smiles.

Sunghoon looks down at his shoes, a pink blush painting his cheeks.

From then on, they are practically inseparable.

His favorite thing to do with her is explore the pocket of woods behind his house. It’s the perfect place to play pretend. Some days they’re wizards making potions with dirt and leaves, other days they’re pirates looking for treasure. Sunghoon particularly likes digging in the creek to see what he can find. Y/N likes pretty rocks which leads to him compiling different rocks and bringing them to her to inspect.

One day, when they’re both age 8, he’s ankles deep in the creek while Y/N is climbing a nearby tree. He’s using a net to sift through the debris in the water when he finds a rock with many tiny ridges. When he looks closely at it, it looks like some sort of bug. His face immediately lights up.

“Y/N!” he exclaims, stumbling through the muddy creek bed to get ashore.

She’s halfway up the tree when she stops and looks down at him. He excitedly waits at the base of the tree trunk and holds up the rock for her to see.

“I think I found a fossil,” he says.

“No way!” She beams and climbs down as quickly as she can.

Sunghoon watches with a smile on his face as her eyes light up at the small fossil. Her finger traces over the ridges.

“It looks like a trilobite,” she says.

Sunghoon stares at her.

“Ancient pill bug,” she clarifies.

“Ohhh,” he nods. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she smiles. “You’re always finding all the cool stuff.”

“I can show you where I found it. Maybe we can find some more,” he says, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her towards the water.

They search for another hour, but they don’t find any more fossils. When Sunghoon is crouched down sifting through the rocks, Y/N comes up behind him and pushes him forward. Since the water isn’t too deep, only half of his body gets wet. He looks up at her in disbelief, and she’s laughing.

“Maybe if I bury you, you’ll turn into a fossil,” she says, grabbing a handful of mud and throwing it at his chest.

“Hey—” he’s cut off by another handful of mud hitting his shoulder. He stops talking and starts grabbing handfuls of mud and throwing them back at her, making her squeal and run away. They chase each other until they’re both covered in mud from head to toe, leaves and twigs stuck to their bodies from rolling around on the ground. They’re giggling messes.

There’s something about the way the leaves cling to her hair that make him stop in his tracks. The way her smile shines brighter with mud all over her face, and her little giggles as she bends down to grab more mud. Something stirs within him, but he doesn’t know what that feeling is exactly. He just can’t stop staring.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Y/N asks teasingly.

“Um…mud.”

“Yes, I know, stupid,” she laughs.

He’s glad that the mud on his face covers his blushing cheeks.

Y/N doesn’t realize she has feelings for Sunghoon until she’s 11 and he starts wearing contact lenses. Suddenly girls are talking about how cute he is and that they didn’t know he was so good looking without his glasses on. It starts to irritate Y/N overhearing the girls in her classes whisper and talk about him.

“Why’d you stop wearing your glasses?” She asks him. “You look better with glasses.”

Sunghoon frowns. “Are you saying I’m ugly?”

“No!” She immediately interjects. “I just think you should go back to wearing your glasses.”

“Why?”

She groans and paces around for a moment. She’s frustrated she can’t put her thoughts into words. She can’t put her thoughts in order at all. Sunghoon watches her grow even more restless.

“If it bothers you that much, I’ll start wearing my glasses again,” he says quietly.

“No. It’s okay,” she sighs, defeated. “It’s not the glasses that’s bothering me.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What’s bothering you then?”

Suddenly, Y/N gets shy, which hardly ever happens. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he catches the tips of her ears turning pink along with the apples of her cheeks. His heart flutters at the sight.

“It’s just,” she pauses, collecting her thoughts. “It’s making me mad how people are suddenly interested in you just because you got rid of your glasses.”

He stares at her with a stunned expression on his face, which makes her keep going.

“You’ve always been an amazing person, and I’ve been with you since the beginning. All these other people don’t deserve you,” she grumbles.

Sunghoon’s heart is about to leap out of his chest at her words. He looks away bashfully, trying to hide the small smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry,” he says softly, “you’re the only person I want to be close with.”

Their eyes meet momentarily, both of their faces red with blush. She looks away, not being able to maintain eye contact with him. He smiles and looks down at his hands.

The next day he wears his glasses again.

One day, when they’re 13, Sunghoon’s family goes on their yearly weekend trip to a cabin, and he begs his parents to let Y/N come this time. During the trip, Sunghoon teaches Y/N how to fish.

“Ugh, I’m boredddd,” she groans.

They’re standing at the edge of the pier with their fishing lines cast out into the lake. They’ve been waiting for a total of 30 minutes so far.

“Fishing is all about patience,” he tells her.

“What if I went into the water and tried catching one with my hands?” She asks.

“You’ll scare the fish away,” Sunghoon clicks his tongue.

“But what if I stayed still and waited for the fish to jump and come to me. Like how the grizzlies do it.”

“They can only do that because the fish are swimming upstream. We’re at a lake,” Sunghoon points out.

She groans again. Her next complaint is cut short when something starts pulling at her fishing line. She practically screams.

“Sunghoon, what do I do?” She frantically grabs the fishing pole.

He chuckles and grabs her hand, placing it on the reel handle. He moves her hand clockwise, causing the fishing line to pull towards them.

A fish about the size of Y/N’s foot splashes up out of the water, dangling from the end of the hook. Sunghoon grabs the fish and holds it out for her to see. It wiggles in his grasp.

“Oh my god. It’s kind of cute,” she says. “Can I hold it?”

He places the fish in her hands, showing her how to hold it without dropping it. He grabs a bucket and fills it with some of the lake water.

“You can put it in there. We can eat it for dinner,” he says.

Y/N freezes. “Eat?”

Sunghoon looks up at her, slightly confused. What else were you supposed to do with a fish you just caught? He sees the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately starts backtracking.

“Or you can release it back into the water,” he says.

She sniffles and nods. He watches as she bends down at the edge of the pier and lets the fish wiggle out of her grasp and slide back into the water.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s okay. We can eat something else,” he reassures her.

“I was talking to the fish,” she says.

Sunghoon chuckles softly and walks up to her crouched figure.

“Maybe fishing isn’t for you,” he starts, “did you want to go look for some cool bugs in the woods?”

She shakes her head. “You don’t like bugs.”

“That doesn’t mean I won't help you.”

“But I want to do something we both enjoy,” she murmurs.

He smiles and squats down next to her. She glances over at him with tearful eyes.

“There’s a waterfall not too far down the trail into the woods. Do you want to go see it together?” He asks softly.

She sniffles and nods again. “That sounds fun.”

“Okay. Let’s go,” he says, standing up straight and holding out his hand for her to take.

They often have sleepovers at each other’s houses on the weekends, but this particular sleepover when they’re 14 is different. They’re watching a movie in Sunghoon’s room like normal until Y/N turns to look at him. 

“Have you ever kissed anyone, Sunghoon?” she asks abruptly after seeing the two main characters in the movie share a kiss. 

Sunghoon practically chokes on the popcorn he’s eating. 

“W-why are you asking?” he coughs, trying to avoid eye contact.

Y/N sighs and leans back on the headboard of his bed.

“I keep hearing every girl in class talking about the boys they’ve been kissing. I’m just curious.”

He remains quiet for a second, not knowing where this is going.

“No. I haven’t,” he finally says.

“Thank god,” she sighs in relief. 

Sunghoon’s heart leaps in his chest, and suddenly all he’s thinking about is what it would be like to kiss her. His eyes flicker to her face for a brief moment, his face turning red. He quickly looks away. 

“W-what?” he stammers. 

She turns to look at him. She immediately notices how shy he’s gotten.

“I’m not the only loser that hasn’t kissed anyone yet,” she says. 

Sunghoon’s mouth falls open, and his head snaps over to look at her in disbelief. She smiles at him, making his face turn even redder. He frowns slightly, but his eyes flicker down to her curved lips. 

“Why does that make us losers?” he mumbles. 

“It doesn’t,” she says, “I just feel like I’m missing out.” 

Sunghoon furrows his eyebrows together. He didn’t understand the need to fit in with what most of the other kids at school were doing. He thought their idea of fun was boring. 

“So you want to kiss whoever just to say you’ve kissed someone?” he asks, his tone of voice growing slightly irritated. 

She shakes her head.

“No, I want to kiss someone I’m comfortable with.” 

Their eyes meet for a second, and Sunghoon’s throat dries up. He looks away again. 

“You’re the only person I’m comfortable enough with,” she starts, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can always wait for someone else to—“

“NO!” he practically screams. His cheeks turn pink when he startles her with his objection. “I-I mean…I can help you…i-if you want.” 

“Really?” She smiles. 

His eyes flicker to her mouth again, and he nods. 

“Are you sure?” She asks again. She scoots closer to him, making his heart race. 

He nods again. 

She leans forward slightly, her eyes glancing down at his lips. They’re slightly parted, his chest rising and falling in short breaths. He stays completely still, letting her get closer and closer until there's no space between them anymore. He freezes when he feels her lips press against his. He closes his eyes and stops breathing for a second. The kiss is over before he can fully register what happened. 

He blinks at her, his emotions tangling in knots inside him. He’s absolutely terrified. How does this change their relationship? Does she like him too?

“Um…” he starts.

She’s watching the TV again, rewinding the movie to the part where the main leads are kissing again. 

“Do you want to try that?” She asks. 

Sunghoon glances over at the screen, watching as the characters move their lips against each other’s. He swears he saw a tongue peek through. 

His face is flushed when she turns to look at him. She watches him, waiting for his reply. 

“I’m sorry. I’m making you uncomfortable,” she says after he’s taking a little too long to give her an answer. “That stuff should be reserved for someone you like.” 

Sunghoon’s heart sinks to his stomach. She’s getting the wrong idea from his stunned silence, but it’s already too late. She turns back to watch the movie, skipping the makeout scene. 

For the next few weeks, Sunghoon tries multiple times to bring up the topic of kissing again, but he gets too flustered. He’s losing sleep because of it. He keeps replaying what happened in his head and groans at how he handled it. 

Things between them hadn’t necessarily changed since they kissed or at least it didn’t seem like it from the outside. On the inside, both of them were dealing with some very conflicting and heavy emotions. 

Sunghoon was under the impression that Y/N didn’t like him in a romantic way because she mentioned kissing as something to mark off a bucket list, not something she wanted to do with him because she had feelings for him. Y/N, on the other hand, was under the impression that Sunghoon didn’t like her in a romantic way because he refused to keep kissing, and that he only agreed to kiss her in the first place to help her as his friend. 

So what do they do? They act like it never happened, but it doesn’t stop their feelings for each other from consuming every fiber of their being. 

Then they hit puberty. Their physical and emotional changes alter their dynamic significantly. 

Sunghoon grows taller and his voice grows deeper. He stops wearing his glasses again, causing girls at school to chase after him. Y/N also grows taller, but not by much. Her body is changing and Sunghoon is definitely noticing, especially after one summer at the pool where he almost drowned after seeing her wear a bikini for the first time. 

Sunghoon is very attractive…just extremely beautiful. It has Y/N fighting for her life. She has to endure all these girls at school confessing to him and fawning over him. When a particularly pretty and popular girl shows interest in Sunghoon, it has Y/N losing her mind. She’s scared that eventually Sunghoon will date and forget about their friendship. She’s jealous. She wants him all to herself. 

She’s jealous for no reason, though, because Sunghoon does not give any girl the time of day. He’s polite, but he always declines their confessions or attempts to ask him out. Most of the time, he sees right through these girls’ intentions. They find him attractive, but they don’t like him for who he is. They compliment his looks and make assumptions about what he’s like, and when they ask him about himself and they find out he likes fishing and playing chess, they look at him with a blank stare. 

Meanwhile, Y/N gets no play. It’s not because she isn’t pretty. She just gives no attention to any guys. She has a habit of scowling at any man that looks her way. They just don’t compare to Sunghoon. He’s all she ever needs in a man, even if it’s just as friends.

Sunghoon grows a little too comfortable in the fact that Y/N doesn’t have any secret admirers, so when she starts ranting to him about a supposed stalker in her economics class, he has to remain calm. She describes how this guy is always staring at her, smiling at her, trying to talk to her. He comes up to her desk and asks why she’s always so quiet and what her hobbies are. Somehow this guy finds out that she likes bugs and tries to start a conversation with her about it.

“He’s just so creepy, Sunghoon,” she groans. “Whenever I walk into class, he’s already staring at me.” 

Sunghoon is clenching his fists at the mere thought of this random guy clearly having a crush on her. He wishes he had the class with her so he could glare at him, but all he can say is, “Yeah, he seems weird. You should ignore him.”

He teases her a lot more too. Maybe it’s puberty or maybe his feelings are just harder to contain, but looking at her pretty face makes him get cuteness aggression. He loves getting a reaction out of her. 

He loves to randomly come up to her and play fight with her. He throws playful punches at her arms and dodges her failed attempts to hit him back. He sometimes lets her hit him, but it just ends up with him tackling her playfully onto the couch or bed. 

“What happened to my sweet Sunghoon?” Y/N whines. “Now I just have a bully.” 

He smiles at her fondly, “You’re just fun to mess with.” 

“It’s only fun for you. I’m out here getting assaulted,” she continues pouting. 

His smile grows wider, and he extends his arms out in playful surrender. “Okay. Hit me then.”

She glances over at him quizzically. When she sees he’s being serious, her expression changes into something mischievous. Before Sunghoon could backtrack, she pulls his sweatpants down leaving him in his boxers.  

“What the—“ 

As he’s bending down and picking up his pants, she jumps on his back and puts him in a chokehold. 

“Y/N—“

“This is what you get,” she says playfully. 

He starts laughing and takes a few steps back until the back of his knees hit the edge of his bed. He purposefully falls backwards, landing on top of her. Her arms slacken around his neck, allowing him to pull free and spin around to face her. He pins her arms down and smiles triumphantly. When he looks down at her, her cheeks are painted pink and her eyes are fixed somewhere to the side. That’s when he realizes the position they’re in and blushes. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, getting off of her and sitting down on the bed. 

“It’s okay,” she says, sitting up. “Sorry for pulling your pants down.”

“It’s okay. It was funny,” he replies. 

They sit in silence for a moment. 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asks, getting up to turn on the TV.

Girls eventually leave Sunghoon alone when it’s clear he only ever has eyes for Y/N. No one knows how they are able to stay just friends with the amount of tension between them. All of their classmates can see it except for Sunghoon and Y/N. God forbid they ever have a class together because they will be giggling and whispering in the back of the room the whole time. They always disappear during lunch hour to sneak onto the track field and lay in the grass. They walk home together after school every day, always going to each other’s places to hang out. 

You would think they’d get bored of each other eventually, but they’re always finding things to do together. They also love to do their own separate things in the same vicinity. Y/N would be working on her latest crafting project on her desk while Sunghoon is on her bed playing with a deck of cards trying to learn magic tricks. When Sunghoon wants to go fishing, Y/N will sit on a floaty and read. They’re comfortable with silence as long as they’re together. 

“Would you rather fight ten, kid sized Y/Ns at the same time or one, 10 foot tall, buff, Y/N?” Y/N asks Sunghoon as they’re sitting in her bed with face masks on during a sleepover.

“Oh god. They both sound terrifying,” he says with horror.

She hits his shoulder playfully, making him giggle. 

“Mm…” he thinks about it a little too seriously. “You were very feisty as a kid, so having to fight ten of you at the same time…I think I’ll take my chances with the buff Y/N. I feel if someone is that tall and buff, they will be slow. I just have to dodge.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.” 

“You got suspended for fighting that kid remember? You definitely gave off ankle biter—OW!” 

Y/N starts to yank at his hair, stopping him mid-insult. He grabs onto her wrist to try and get her fingers out of his hair. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry.”

She releases his hair, and he glares at her. 

“Now I’m questioning my decision. I’m scared what a buff Y/N would do in comparison to that,” he says, rubbing his scalp. 

She grins at him. He stares at her for a second, a smile growing on his lips too. 

Sunghoon and Y/N make the decision to attend the same university because they can’t bear the thought of being apart for 4 years. They decide to move in together, so they don’t have to deal with the school’s prison-like dorms. Off-campus student housing isn’t the best, but they make it work. 

Sunghoon is still scared of bugs, so Y/N always has to catch all the spiders and moths that make their way into their apartment and release them outside or else he will be yelling and throwing things. 

One time, as Sunghoon is about to go to sleep, he sees a cricket crawling on his pillow and he absolutely freaks out. He has to wake Y/N up to come catch and release it. 

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” he asks her.

“It was a cricket, not a cockroach, Sunghoon,” she groans, half asleep.

“But it touched my sheets, and I don’t want to stay awake for two more hours to wash them,” he whines slightly.

She keeps mumbling in her sleepy state and doesn’t protest any further as he follows her into her room and climbs into bed with her.

Sunghoon gets strangely more clingy once they start living together. He’s always tagging along when she goes to run errands. She needs to return a library book? He’s trailing behind her with his backpack saying he’s going to the library to study anyway. She’s going out to get a sweet drink? He’s tagging along claiming he’s never been to that coffee shop before and that he’s been wanting to try it out. Y/N doesn’t mind, though. His presence always makes things more comforting. 

They’re busier due to the amount of workload some of their classes have, so he’s constantly wanting her attention. Sometimes a simple, “do you want to go eat?”  will do the trick, but sometimes he has to resort to more drastic measures for her attention. 

He starts off by sighing loudly. If that doesn’t work, he starts poking her repeatedly on the shoulder or sides. If all else fails, he will hug her waist and push her onto the couch. 

“Why do you hate me?” He grumbles. 

“Who said I hate you?” She laughs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

“You don’t want to go out to eat and you’re ignoring me. Just say you hate me,” he says. 

She playfully pulls at his ear. “Ok, babygirl, sorry for not giving you my undivided attention.” 

The tips of his ears turn red and he buries his face in her shoulder. She pats the back of his head. 

“Let’s go eat,” she says. 

“No. I don’t wanna eat anymore,” he mumbles. “I’m comfortable here.”

He definitely lets her get away with more things now too. She just has to bat her eyelashes and he will willingly be dragged around to do absolutely anything. He hates how she’s able to figure it out too. It’s like she knows the effect she has on him. 

“Sunghoonnnn,” she calls sweetly. 

Oh no. 

“Can you do my laundry? Pleaseeee,” she clings to his arm. 

“I don’t want to do your stinky laundry,” he groans, trying to pull away and not look at her face before he folds. 

“C’monnnn, don’t you love me? I wash your dishes when you leave them in the sink because I love you,” she says, placing her cheek against his arm. 

Oh, he’s a goner. His cheeks are bright red.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles. 

One night, Sunghoon gets a call from Y/N at around one in the morning. 

“Sunghoon…” he hears her slurred mumbling from the other side of the phone, and he instantly knows she’s drunk. He can hear the loud music in the background.

“I thought you said you were going to a friendly get together?” he sighs into the phone. 

“I know…I lied,” she mumbles, “I’m sorryyyy. I didn’t want you to get worried.” 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Mhm,” she hums, “Can you pick me up?” 

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he tells her after getting her location. 

He finds her immediately. She’s outside the club, digging through the bushes. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Sunghoon asks, the worriedness he had dissipating at the sight of her. He chuckles slightly when her head pops up from the bushes, leaves stuck to her hair. 

“Sunghoonnn,” she whines, stumbling out of the bush towards him. 

He grabs her by the arms, making sure she doesn’t topple over. 

“I thought I heard a katydid. I can’t find it,” she frowns.

“You probably scared it away,” he says, picking the leaves from her hair. 

She pouts, ducking her head to let him run his fingers through her hair to flatten out the knots caused by the bush’s branches. “But I tried to be super stealthy.” 

“I know, Y/N. I know,” he says softly. 

He wraps his arm around her shoulder for stability as he starts to walk her back home. She leans her whole bodyweight against his side. She’s mumbling incoherently and dragging her feet sluggishly. By the time they make it through their front door, he’s practically carrying her inside. She clings to him like her life depends on it. 

“Sunghoonnn, you smell so nice,” she mumbles. Her eyes are closed as he drags her to her room and makes her sit down on the bed. 

“It’s the cologne you got me for my birthday last year,” he says as he bends down to take her shoes off. 

“Mmm,” she hums, “I have great taste.” 

She sways slightly even though her eyes are closed. Sunghoon goes into their shared bathroom and grabs her makeup removing wipes. She tries moving her head away from his touch as he begins to wipe her face with the towelette. 

“Nooo,” she whines, “I worked so hard on this makeup look.”

“I know, Y/N. It’s very pretty, but you can’t go to sleep with it on,” he says, gently grabbing her chin to hold her still as he continues to wipe it off. 

“Why not?”

“You’ll get your pillow dirty.” 

She groans but complies. She stops resisting and lets him finish. When he tries to get her to stand up and go wash her face in the bathroom, she whines again and flops backwards into her bed. Sunghoon sighs and gives up. He walks over to her dresser and pulls out a pair of pajamas, throwing them at her. 

“Change at least,” he says. 

Instead, she pulls up her covers and hides under them. 

“Y/N, stop being difficult,” he sighs, ripping the covers off her completely. 

“Why can’t you change me?” she whines.

“You know I can’t do that,” he says.

“Why not?”

“You need to change yourself.” 

“But what if I want you to change me?”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Then I’m sleeping in this,” she gestures to her dress, her eyes still closed.

“Y/N…”

“Sunghoon…”

He sighs, “How about this? I can unzip your dress and you do the rest yourself.”

She thinks about it for a second before nodding. She sits back up, opening her eyes slightly. He helps her back to her feet, and she turns around, holding her hair out of the way as he unzips the back of her dress. He turns around and gives her some privacy as she changes into the pajamas. 

“Sunghoon, you’re so nice to me,” she starts sniffling. 

He turns around to find her sitting back down on her bed with tears in her eyes. He sighs and sits next to her. She immediately leans her head on his shoulder. 

“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” she mumbles. 

He pats her head gently, letting her talk herself out until she falls asleep. 

“I think I’ll die if you get a girlfriend. Promise me you won’t get one?” 

She lifts her head up from his shoulder to look at him with tear stained cheeks. His eyes soften at the sight of her. 

“Y/N, you should get some rest,” he says, gently trying to lay her down. 

She starts sobbing at how he evades the question. 

“You probably already have a secret girlfriend. That’s why you didn’t promise me, right?” She cries. 

Sunghoon sighs and grabs some tissues from the nightstand. He gently wipes the tears from her face. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Y/N,” he says. 

“Then why won’t you promise me?” She looks up at him with the most adorable pout, making his eyes flicker down to her lips. 

“Because I want a girlfriend eventually,” he says softly. 

She starts crying again, pulling the covers over her head so he can’t keep wiping her face clean. 

“Y/N…” he sighs. 

He tries to pull the covers off, but her grip is strong. 

“Go away, you traitor,” she hiccups. 

“Y/N, you’re drunk. You should get some sleep.” 

But she continues rambling. 

“I thought we were going to stay together forever,” she cries, “You’re the only man that exists to me. Every other man is boring and ugly compared to you. Do other girls exist to you? Do you find them pretty? Is that why you want to get a girlfriend?” 

Sunghoon’s heart races, but he tries to stay calm. He crouches down so he’s eye level to her on the bed. 

“No, other girls don’t exist to me either,” he says gently. 

She sniffles and peeks her head out from under the covers to look at him. 

“That doesn’t make sense,” she says. 

“Yes, it does,” he says, pulling the blanket lower so he can see her face fully. 

“If other girls don’t exist to you, who will be your girlfriend?” She asks. 

“Think about it.” 

She remains quiet for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. 

“I don’t know…” she mumbles eventually, making him sigh. 

He notices the way her eyelids droop, fighting to stay awake. He pats her head gently. 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. You should sleep.”

She protests weakly, but he brings the covers up to her chin and tucks her in. Her eyes are closed again and her breathing even. He stares at her sleeping form for a moment before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Think about it,” he whispers before leaving her room. 

Sunghoon, in fact, does not tell her tomorrow. She completely forgets the conversation, and he gets cold feet. They fall back into their routine, but Sunghoon can’t stop thinking about what she told him. She wants to stay with him forever…

“Why are you blushing?” Y/N asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“Oh…nothing,” he mumbles.

They’re at the library trying to study for midterms. It’s been three hours already, and it’s getting harder to focus. Sunghoon’s mind keeps drifting off. 

“So,” he starts, catching her attention. “After you graduate, what are you going to do?”

“Pick a city we want to live in, find jobs and move there. Preferably somewhere that has a lot of parks or outdoor recreation,” she says. It seems like she has it all planned out. 

“As in us together?” He asks. 

“Yeah. Obviously,” She looks at him, immediately noticing how flustered he’s getting. “Why? Do you not want to be together?” 

The wording she uses makes his heart want to leap out of his chest. 

“It’s not that. It’s just…” he pauses for a moment, debating whether or not he wants to ask this. “You don’t want to branch out on your own or anything? Live alone, be independent…get a boyfriend?” 

She makes a face. “Living alone as a girl is scary, I’m already independent, and I hate men. Except you of course.” 

Sunghoon remains silent. She makes him feel like he’s the center of her universe and it only makes him fall for her even more. 

“So we will be old and still living together?” He asks. 

She shrugs. “Why not? I can see us sitting on our porch, yelling at random kids to get off our lawn that we perfectly crafted to have a fish pond and flowers for pollinators.” 

She watches him as his face turns even redder. 

“You’d want to spend the rest of our lives together?” He asks softly. 

“Yeah. I mean I can’t see it without you.”

They stare at each other in silence. His eyes flicker down to her lips before looking away sheepishly. 

“As friends?” He asks.

It’s Y/N’s turn to blush, realizing how what she said may have come off. 

“If that’s what you want,” she says. “I’m okay with being just friends.”

His heart pounds in his chest, and he looks up at her. “Just?” 

She quickly realizes her slip up and hides her face behind her hands. 

“I meant…” her voice trembles slightly. 

“Y/N…” he smiles and gently pulls her arms to the side so he can see her clearly. “Quite frankly, if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, I don’t want to be just friends.” 

Her eyes flicker between his, her heart racing in a panic in her chest. 

“Y/N…” he says softly after seeing the panic in her eyes. “I’ve loved you for almost as long as I’ve been alive.” 

He gently cups her face with his hands. 

“And I will love you for the rest of it.”

Her breath comes out shaky as she continues to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. 

“I don’t want to be just friends,” she whispers finally. 

She watches as his eyes glance down at her lips then back up to her eyes. His thumbs trace her cheeks. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. 

She nods ever so slightly. His smile as he leans in makes her heart flutter. His lips are as soft and gentle as she remembers, and it makes her head spin. The kiss is short and sweet, and when he pulls away, he’s still running his thumbs across her cheeks. She blushes and tries to pull away from his touch. The smile on his lips only grows, and he leans in for another peck to her lips. 

“Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m just very happy right now.”

His hand runs through her hair and rests at the back of her neck. The cuteness of her flushed face makes him gently squeeze her cheeks with his other hand, swaying her head side to side every so slightly. 

“Is this what I’m gonna have to deal with for the rest of my life?” She chuckles.

“Unfortunately, yes. No take backs now,” he smiles, squeezing her cheeks again before placing another kiss on her pouty lips. 

The transition between friends to lovers is surprisingly difficult for Sunghoon and Y/N despite the years of tension. They fall into their routines and end up forgetting that they’re actually a couple now. 

They get shy when it comes to any form of intentional physical affection. They have always been somewhat affectionate towards each other but now there’s romantic intention behind it, and it makes them shy, especially Sunghoon.

Sunghoon has been dreaming about the day of them becoming a couple, but he’s scared of moving too fast and scaring her. This results in shy touches or Y/N having to initiate things. She teases him a lot about it.

They’re cuddling in bed, facing each other. His arm is loosely draped over her waist, and his eyes are closed as she traces his face with her fingers. There’s a small smile on his lips and a pink tint to his cheeks.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you this up close,” Y/N whispers. “You have a small mole under your eye.” 

He hums, and his eyelids flutter open to look at her. He remains silent as he watches her admire him, a warmth spreading through his chest. Her eyes lock with his for a brief moment. The look of pure adoration in his eyes makes her melt.

“It’s kind of surreal,” he whispers. “I’ve thought about this for years.” 

Y/N chuckles softly and brings her hand to cup the side of his head. Her thumb gently traces over his ear. 

“Oh, you want me bad,” she teases. 

Sunghoon bites his lip out of embarrassment and tries to look away. 

“I mean, yeah…” 

Y/N’s heart races in her chest, and a blush spreads to her cheeks and ears. 

Sunghoon loves to be babied, but in private or else it hurts his pride. 

After a long few days of final exams, he walks into their shared apartment. He drops his backpack on the floor by the door and shuffles to the couch where Y/N is sitting. He whines softly and lays on top of her. 

“Hold me,” he says. “Comfort me.”

She laughs as he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck. She rubs his back comfortingly, and he instantly melts into her. She plays and runs her fingers through his hair. He hums happily. 

“Finals were that bad?” she asks after a while of silence.

“Mhm,” he hums against her neck. “It didn’t help that I was sitting next to this guy who does not know what deodorant is.” 

He buries his face deeper into her neck, inhaling deeply. 

“You smell so nice,” he mumbles. 

The feeling of her hands running up and down his back is so comforting to Sunghoon. He wants to be even closer, wants to fuse with her if ever possible. He’s already face deep in her neck, getting lost in the smell of her body wash. His hands start roaming her sides, and he starts planting kisses to her neck.

Once she realizes what he’s doing, she clicks her tongue and gently tugs at his ear, pulling him out of her neck. He looks at her with the saddest eyes.   

“Can I please just kiss my girlfriend?” he asks.

“Last time I let you do that you left my neck purple,” she glares at him.

He looks up at her with the smuggest grin on his face.

“Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” He tries to act innocent, but the smug expression is still there.

She yanks at his ear again, and his grin turns into a pout. He buries his face back in her neck.

“Fine,” he grumbles and calms down. 

Y/N has a habit of teasing Sunghoon into getting boners, especially when he’s still hesitant about initiating anything with her out of fear of making her uncomfortable. Poor Sunghoon would be fighting for his life.  

A hand up his shirt and gently rubbing his belly? Hard. A playful bite on his bicep? Hard. A little tug on his hair as he lays his head in her lap? Hard. 

At first he’s so embarrassed about it and apologizes, but once he finds out she’s doing it on purpose, he starts to get a little more comfortable. 

He’s cooking one evening, and she comes up behind him in the kitchen and gives him a back hug. She presses her body against his back and purposely wraps her arms a little too low on his waist than normal. It really doesn’t take too long before his sweatpants tent up. 

“Whatcha making?” She asks innocently, but he knows what game she’s playing now.

“Just ramen.”

“Mm.”

He plays along with it for a bit, grabbing her hands and pulling them up higher around his torso, but they always find their way back down around his hips. He turns around which makes her stop hugging him, and she looks at him as if she’s doing nothing wrong. He shakes his head and grabs her by the waist and sits her on the counter.

“Stay,” he points at her, and a smile breaks out on her lips.

He knows damn well she isn’t gonna stay.

“I’m not a dog,” she grunts playfully, swinging her leg out to poke the side of his thigh with her foot.

“I’m cooking,” he says, swatting her leg away.

She scoots closer to him, still sitting on the counter. He gives her a side eye which only makes her scoot even closer. He stirs around the ramen then turns off the stove top. He grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her back to the place on the counter she was supposed to stay at. She groans and swings her legs slightly in protest. 

He cups both of his hands on her cheeks, making her go still. He looks at her briefly before pulling her face toward him and kissing her. It turns into a makeout session real quick, and she tries to wrap her legs around his waist. His hands grab her by the thighs and push them, holding them back.

“I said stay,” he whispers against the kiss, making her go crazy.

Even then he's too scared to take things too far. He presses his body a little closer to her, but other than that, he keeps things PG-13. 

She gets super frustrated. She tries to give him hints by running her hands all over his body. His breathing becomes shakier, but they have never actually gone all the way before, and he’s kind of scared.

His hands are still gripping her thighs away from him, and she’s getting more desperate. She can tell he’s clearly hard and enjoying this. She grabs his waist and pulls him flush against her so he’s nuzzled between her legs, and he short circuits. 

He stops kissing her and buries his face in her neck, his breath shaking and his hands on her thighs trembling slightly.

“Why are you hesitating?” She whispers softly. She runs her fingers through his hair soothingly. 

He stays silent for a while, his face still in her neck as he tries to calm down. 

“I’m nervous,” he whispers back.

“About what?” 

“I don’t want to mess things up.” 

She pulls back slightly, making him stop hiding and look at her. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes scan across her face. She smiles, trying to ease him a little. 

“How would you mess things up?” 

He shrugs. “A lot of ways. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He looks away shyly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and ruin everything.” 

He was clearly talking about more than just what was unfolding at the moment. She brings him into a comforting hug, resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“I’m scared you’ll think this was a mistake. I’ve loved you for so long…” he trails off.

“Do you not think I feel the same way?” She asks softly, her nose burying into his neck. “Every time you hesitate it makes me think you’re regretting this.” 

His breath hitches, and he pulls back slightly from the hug to look at her. 

“I love you, Sunghoon,” she says. “And I want you. All of you.” 

His heart practically beats out his chest, his cheeks turning a bright red. He swallows nervously. 

“I love you too…” he whispers, his eyes trained onto her face. 

“So…” she says, running her hand down his chest

His eyes follow her hand as it stops at his stomach. They’re both blushing messes at this point, ramen long forgotten as he grabs her hand and helps her off the kitchen counter. 

Their first time is definitely clumsy but cute. They’re both shy about taking their clothes off for the first time. It really solidifies their relationship switch from being friends for so long to actually being in a romantic relationship, which is both scary and exhilarating at the same time. 

They start slow, just making out and their hands roaming and exploring over their clothes. When her hands make their way up underneath his shirt he practically buckles. His breath hitches, and she can feel his stomach tighten under her fingers. 

She smiles against his lips before trying to pull his shirt up and off. This part was easy enough. She’s seen him without a shirt plenty of times, so he isn’t too flustered. As they continue kissing, she can feel his finger tips hesitantly slipping under her shirt and resting at her hips. He clearly wants to take her shirt off too and her cheeks turn red. 

Her heart pounds in her chest as she pulls back from the kiss and looks at him. He’s like a deer in headlights, frozen, thinking he did something wrong to make her stop and pull away. He notes how flustered she looks, and it brings him a little more confidence. 

He pulls her shirt up slightly then stops to look at her to see if she’s having second thoughts, but she raises her arms over her head and lets him take it off. His hands caress her bare sides, feeling the warmth of her skin. He shakily fumbles with the clasp of her bra. It takes him a bit until he’s able to get it off, but once he does, he can’t stop staring. He blushes and looks away when he catches himself staring. There’s so many thoughts going through his head. He suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

She sees the slight panic in his eyes and pulls him into another kiss. His thoughts are temporarily silenced. She presses her body against his, and the feeling of her bare chest against his makes him groan. His arms snake around her and his hands splay across her back, pulling her even closer. 

He’s lost in the moment, his hands roaming across her bare back and feeling her soft skin under his fingertips. He trails kisses down her jaw and neck, feeling her pulse quicken under his lips. Her hands tug at his hair, eliciting soft grunts out of him as he trails his lips down her shoulder. He presses closer, gently laying her backwards onto the bed. His hands trace up her sides and stomach, still somehow hesitating despite being face deep into her neck. 

She lets out an exasperated noise and grabs one of his wrists, leading his hand to her chest. He makes a choking sound against her neck and stops kissing for a second, his heavy breathing making the hairs on her skin stand up. 

“It’s okay. Touch me,” she whispers, a slight shakiness to her voice. 

She can’t suppress the soft moans that leave her lips as he begins to slowly knead her chest. His nose trails across her shoulder as he places kisses along her collarbone, her sweetly fresh scent filling his nose. His thumb circles around her nipple, playing and slightly pulling on it.   

Her breathy moans make him groan with pleasure, his hips involuntarily bucking against hers. His sweatpants are practically strained around him. 

“S-sorry,” he mutters, pulling his hips back slightly. 

Her hands are already at his waistband. His arms brace on the bed at either side of her head, his breath shaky as he looks down at her fumbling with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. She pushes his sweatpants down his thighs, leaving him in his boxers where his arousal was even more apparent. She looks up to meet his eyes and he immediately looks away, red in the face. 

She reaches up and traces his ear, the tip bright red to match his face. Her touch lingers on his earlobe before tracing down the side of his neck. She can see his adam's apple bob as he swallows nervously. 

“Take mine off,” she whispers, trying to distract him from the embarrassment.

“Okay,” he whispers back. 

His eyes flicker down to her bottoms which are just some pajama shorts. His fingers trace the waistband.

“Both? Or…” 

It was her turn to turn beet red. He looks up at her and blushes seeing her blush. 

“Unless you don’t want to—“ he immediately backtracks. 

“All of it,” she cuts him off and looks away shyly, not wanting to see his face as he takes everything off and looks at her fully. 

His hands are shaking as he pulls her shorts and underwear off, but once she’s lying there fully bare in front of him his breath is taken away. His hands trail up her legs, gently caressing her skin. Once they reach her thighs, he slowly kneads them and pushes them apart to look at her. She closes her eyes as if trying to hide. He notices immediately and his hands come up to grab her waist as he leans forward and places soft kisses to her face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly.

She shakes her head slightly, her eyes are open now but still not looking at him. 

“I’m a little embarrassed…” she mumbles.

He looks at her, his gaze softening as he cups her cheek in his hand and makes her face him. He brushes strands of hair out of her face. His fingertips trace her features, running across her eyebrow bone and down her nose bridge, across her cheekbones and down her jaw until they land on her bottom lip. 

“You’re so beautiful. You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he says softly. “But we can stop if you’re not comfortable.”

She looks at him as he traces her face, his eyes soft and so full of affection she wants to cry. Her bottom lip trembles slightly and he leans forward to place a tender kiss on them. 

“You’re so precious to me,” he whispers against her lips. 

Her arms wrap around him and into a hug, overwhelmed with emotion as he buries his face in her neck. 

“I love you,” she says. Her hands run down his back, making him shiver. “I trust you.” 

He hums contently into her neck but doesn’t make any moves to continue where he’d left off earlier. Instead, his hands roam her sides, caressing her curves as he gently sucks on her neck. Her grip tightens on his back, and she moves her head aside to expose more of her neck, soft whimpers leaving her lips. 

The sounds she makes are making him slightly lose control. His hips press against hers, and he groans into her neck at the slight friction. He hears her breath hitch too, her hands on his back trailing down to his waist to pull at his boxers. 

He pulls back from her neck to let her take them off. His eyes are fixed on her face, his cheeks flushed as he watches her gaze run down his body completely. He swallows nervously as her hands trail down his sides, stopping at his hips. His length immediately twitches at her simple touch. 

“Let’s…” he swallows again. “Let’s focus on you.” He mutters.

Her eyebrows furrow as she looks up at him. Her mouth opens to say something but he quickly leans forward and kisses her. Her hands stay at his hips, slightly gripping his thighs. He feels her hands inching downward, making his head spin. He pulls back to look at her, his face flushed. His hands gently pull hers off of him, and she’s about to protest again, but he brings them up to his lips and kisses them gently. 

“Let me focus on you, please,” he whispers, voice shaking. “I…if you touch me, I will probably…finish,” he looks away shyly. 

This gives Y/N such a rush. Any insecurity she has about her body is completely gone seeing how worked up he is. Her hand trails down his arm and grabs his wrist. She gently guides his hand between her legs. 

He says he doesn’t know what he’s doing. She guides him at first, showing him where to touch her. He’s a quick learner, though. He’s an observer. He knows he’s doing a good job by the sounds she makes and how her body responds to his touch, getting closer and wanting more. If he’s unsure, he just keeps his hand still, and her hips will move against it how she needs to. 

The palm of his hand grinds on her clit as he pumps his fingers into her, making her see stars. His face is back in the crook of her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin. He can feel her tightening around his fingers, and he groans in her neck as if it’s his dick and not his fingers. 

She tugs the hair on the back of his head, pulling him out from her neck to have him look at her. His eyes are glazed over. He is absolutely gone. She has to kiss him to snap him out of it, but it only works for a little while until he’s groaning and devouring her mouth. 

“Sunghoon,” she pants against his lips when he even gives her time to breathe.

He responds with a sound between a hum and a grunt, but he doesn’t stop. She grabs his wrist that’s still lazily fingering her, and he immediately freezes. He pulls back and looks at her with a guilty expression. He's about to apologize, but she releases his wrist and instead wraps her hand around his length. 

The facial expression he makes is so perfect, she almost thinks he finishes. She rubs the length of him along herself, coating it. He almost collapses on top of her, his breathing shaky and a raspy moan leaving his lips. She guides his tip to her entrance and his head falls forward, his hair covering his face.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Are you sure?” He’s breathing heavily now, his eyes trained on her face. 

She bites her lip and nods. His eyes flicker down to her lips as she bites them. He leans forward to kiss her again, but gently this time. 

He pushes himself deeper little by little, stopping for a bit whenever he sees her face scrunch up with discomfort. He continues to kiss her until he finally bottoms out. He stays still, letting her adjust as he buries his face in her neck again. His breathing is raggedy as he tries not to cum right then and there. She runs her hands down his back soothingly as if reassuring him it’s okay. He slowly rolls his hips, thrusting shallowly, not fully trusting himself to last long.

“God, you're beautiful,” he mumbles against her jaw. 

His hands are roaming up and down her body and kissing her lips. His thrusts slowly become deeper yet still gentle. Her warmth is driving him crazy. His arms wrap around her in a hug as he tries to control himself. He can feel her tighten around him, making him groan against her neck. Her fingers yank at his hair as her strangled moans brush against his ear. 

“I love you. Fuck…” he pants, “you feel so good.” 

He's mumbling praises into her neck as his thrusts become lazy and his hips are shuddering. That’s her undoing. He’s just so hot as he gets desperate and out of control. Her walls grip around him as she feels her orgasm, making him choke and bury himself fully into her. He groans and slightly collapses on top of her as her grip makes him finish. 

He stays still for a second but then starts to thrust again. Very slowly and gently, prolonging both of their orgasms. 

They’re both shaking by the end of it, bodies sweaty and heaving. She pulls him down on top of her, knowing he’s tired. He obliges, letting her wrap her arms around him. She likes the feeling of his body weight on top of her. She runs her hands down his back soothingly as both of their breathing slowly goes back to normal. 

“I love you,” he whispers into her neck.

“I love you too,” she says, patting his head. “You did so good.” 

He hums, his cheeks flushed. He wraps his arms around her and rolls onto his back, pulling her along with him. He smiles up at her, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. They stay in each other’s embrace for a long while. Her cheek is pressed against his chest, and he’s tracing lines onto her shoulder when her stomach growls.

“Do you think the ramen is still good?” she asks softly.

“Probably not,” he laughs. “I can make you another one, though.”