[insert 🌈 pun here]

 All of Gyuvin’s “research” he’d been presenting to the media for the past year finally pays off as the Phantom Thieves sit on their laptops, sifting through the real life evidence you could match to President Kim’s and Manager Sang’s Metaverse confessions.

“Oh sh*t,” Yujin whispers, leaning in closer to his screen. “Guys, I think I found something!”

Rushing over to Yujin’s screen, the rest of you fight for a good view of the document. As you read the scan of TCM’s monthly finance statement from May, Yujin points to two entries.

“Right here, marked ‘Shareholder Contribution’: a payment to the company from Ricky hyung for 34 million won on May 15th,” Yujin says before moving to an entry a few slots below it. “And here: a payment from the company to an account named ‘Choi Byung-chul’ for 34 million won on May 17th.”

“A transfer of the exact same amount as Ricky donated just a couple days later?” Gyuvin poses, scratching the back of his neck. “I’d say it’s suspicious.”

“They’re both signed off by CFO Lee though,” Yujin says with a shrug.

“But who is... Choi Byung-chul?” Jiwoong asks, frowning as he reads the name from the screen.

You’re already on it, searching the name on Naver. You scroll down through the results, finding some retired athlete and a bunch of social media profiles belonging to old men. You’re about to give up, when you spot an idol profile website in the middle of all the results.

You gasp audibly at your discovery. It’s a biography profile for President Kim. And hidden in the “Interesting Facts” section is one incredibly interesting sentence:

Some fans have suspected Kim Hyunwoo’s real birth name is Byung-chul due to an alleged leak of his birth certificate in 2011, though Hyunwoo has denied this.

“Yujin-ah,” you say with a proud grin. “Pick any restaurant you want. Dinner’s on me Saturday night.”

“Huh!?” The youngest asks excitedly. “Why?”

“Because that semester of college has already created a genius,” you say, roughing up his floppy hair. Yujin grins, putting his head down on his arms folded across the desk to hide the shy blush on his cheeks.

“Hey,” Gyuvin pouts. “I’m the one who got the document in the first place.”

You glare at him. He’s always too tall to accurately read the room. Still, you walk over to him and reach up on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair as well. “You certainly are. And I am forever in your debt.”

“Aw, come on. I want dinner too,” he grumbles.

You turn around, finding Jiwoong looking a bit disappointed in his lack of contribution. You fight the urge to giggle at the sight. “And thank you for all your help, Woongie. We couldn’t do this without you.”

Jiwoong pouts, too. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You can’t help but laugh, walking over to him and pinching both of his cheeks. He laughs, shaking his head to escape your grasp. 

“So...” You step back, looking at the rest of the Phantom Thieves. “What’s the plan?”

THURSDAY JUNE 22ND -- NIGHT

“Then if a little man appears who laughs, who has golden hair and who refuses to answer questions, you will know who he is. If this should happen, please comfort me. Send me word that he has come back,” you read the last words on the final page of The Little Prince, turning the book around to show Hao the illustration. You’d started reading the book to him last night, but he’d fallen asleep halfway through.

You close the book, setting it on Hao’s nightstand. Glancing at him, you can tell his tired eyes are watery. 

Mini-Decision: Hao looks like he's about to cry. Will you Make Fun of Him or Comfort Him?

If you chose Make Fun of Him, read below:

“Are you--... Are you f*cking crying?” You ask, jaw dropped as you let out a laugh.

Hao’s brow furrows as he shakes his head quickly. “N-no... Of course not!”

“You totally are,” you say as Hao wipes his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “You’re crying over a children’s book!”

“What the f*ck, (Y/N)?” Hao spits, a pout forming on his lips. He, unfortunately, looks very cute.

“How does it feel? Hm?” You prompt, pouting back at him to make a point. “You make fun of me all the time. And now I can finally make fun of you again. Properly.”

Hao raises his hand and you’re sure he’s about to smack you, but, instead, he gently takes the book from your grasp. He looks at the cover, turning it over in his hands.

“I never even heard of this book until you said it was your favorite a couple years ago,” he remarks with a frown. “They asked us in that Buzzfeed interview.”

“Oh yeah, the normal one,” you reply, recalling that bizarre day of press. “And then after that, they made us read all those Thirst Tweets.”

Hao rolls his eyes. “The fans were saying a whole lot of dirty things about you and not nearly enough about me.”

“Probably wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore,” you say with a laugh.

“Definitely,” Hao corrects, shaking his head. “I definitely don’t, now that we’re having a comeback without you.”

“Wow,” you scoff. “Almost thought we were gonna have a nice moment for the first time this whole year.”

“Mm, I considered it,” he replies with a shrug. “But you just made fun of me in an incredibly vulnerable moment, so I’m thinking we’re gonna rain check that to never. Now get your fat ass off my bed.”

“Right. Okay,” you agree saltily. Maybe you didn’t make any new ground with Hao, but it was totally worth it.

Your bond with Hao has grown stronger. +0 Hao Point. Please add +0 Hao Point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose Comfort Him, read below:

Somehow you find it in you to suppress the urge to mock Hao ruthlessly, even though you know he wouldn’t do the same for you.

“It’s kind of scary,” Hao says, a tear rolling down his cheek. “All I keep trying to do is get back to my roses. What if--... What if I disappear too?”

“Well... There’s nothing to worry about now, really,” you answer tentatively. “The company’s preparing a comeback for you guys so—.”

“Oh, you know full f*cking well that we’re doomed before we even start,” Hao huffs annoyedly, sleeve coming up to wipe his eyes. “I just can’t figure out why they’re doing this. President Kim said he’d get me out. That I was worth saving. I don’t understand why he’d push a group comeback all of a sudden…”

Hidden underneath his insufferable self grandiosity, you’d be remiss not to notice Hao’s doubt of President Kim. Even before your incident, you’d never heard Hao express his doubt of Total Control. You wonder how long he’s had these thoughts.

“I don’t understand either,” you reply honestly. Hao’s eyes dart to meet yours in surprise, like he’d forgotten that you were there.

“You’re just pissed you’re not involved,” he says, brow furrowing annoyedly at you. 

You shake your head, confessing truthfully, “I’m not.”

“F*ck off,” Hao replies with a sardonic laugh. 

“I’m not,” you repeat earnestly. “Of course, it makes me really sad. But even more than that, I’m relieved. That you all have even a semblance of a shot to get back everything you deserve. All I’ve wanted this whole time was to finally stop hurting you.”

Hao just blinks back at you for a few moments, clearly conflicted by what you’ve just said. Finally, he rolls his eyes and kicks you with his foot. “Go to bed. You have a long day of doing everything I want you to tomorrow and I won’t be accepting any slacking off.”

Your bond with Hao has grown stronger. +1 Hao Point. Please add +1 Hao point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“Well good night, Little Prince,” you say, hopping off of Hao’s bed. “Sleep tight. Don’t let the businessmen bite.”

You quickly dart your hands to his stomach, fingers touching the exposed skin before tickling him mercilessly. He yelps in shock, arms flying up to pry your hand off of him.

“STOP IT!” Hao shouts, unable to contain his laughter. “(Y/N) STOP! F*CKING STOP!”

You sprint to the door, throwing it open and calling over your shoulder, “GOOD NIGHT, LITTLE B*TCH!”

THURSDAY JUNE 22ND -- LATE NIGHT

Even though you should probably be getting ready for bed so you could be energized for the mission tomorrow, you’re feeling a little too anxious to sleep just yet. You open Kakao Talk, finding only two of your friends are online...

Mini-Decision: Will you choose to spend some time with Gunwook or Taerae?

If you chose Gunwook, read below:

You’d started playing Genshin Impact last September. At the time, you’d all still thought that Gunwook not coming out of his room was a phase. It wasn’t. 

Though you’d originally kind of hated the game, you realized the first couple months after your arrest that you were growing desperate for any interaction with your former friends that you could get. Gunwook had sent multiple messages in the groupchat (that you’d been kicked out of) begging for someone to play with him. Perhaps you were both lonely in the prisons of your own making.

So you started playing, eventually leveling yourself up enough to unlock the multiplayer mode. You sent him a request and he ignored it for a couple days, sending out one last desperate plea to the other members. No one responded.

And that’s how you broke the ice again with the recluse. Sort of. The only thing he’ll entertain your virtual presence for is Genshin. But that’s enough for you, for now.

“F*CK YEAH!” Gunwook exclaims now as you finally defeat the boss you’d been grinding at. He readjusts the arms of his glasses under his headset as you relish in your victory, trying your best to remember not to let any sound out of your mouth. “That was all you at the end there, (Y/N). You’re getting kind of good.”

Thanks, you type into the chat box.

“Took you long enough,” he ribs, that wide, gummy grin lighting up the darkness of his room. “You’ve been playing for months and I’m pretty sure that’s all you have to show for it.”

D*ckhead, you send in reply. He laughs really hard at that and it warms your snowy heart. I’ve basically learned everything I know from you, so I think you’re really the one to blame for the poor progress.

“Oh, so you’re implying I’m a bad teacher,” Gunwook considers, nodding his head. “What if you’re just a bad student?”

Two truths can exist simultaneously, you type after a moment. He adjusts his glasses again, this time pushing his mop of hair out of his eyes. You always forget how youthful his face is, like a teddy bear. Which makes you think of something...

I think I deserve a prize for that win actually, you send quickly.

“Ah yes, why am I not surprised by that line of thinking from you?” He says with a knowing smirk. “What did you have in mind?”

A hug, you send finally after a long moment of hesitation. A really, really big Wookie hug that makes everything okay again.

Gunwook appears to stop breathing, impossibly still as he reads what you wrote. You knew you were taking a risk, but you don’t regret it. He looks down at his lap in anxious contemplation.

Doesn’t have to be now, you send with a sad smile. Just some day.

He presses his lips together as he digests your patient encouragement. It’s not enough to break down his fear and that’s okay. Sometimes it’s just good to let someone know that you miss them.

“Let’s get back to the game.”

Your bond with Gunwook has grown stronger. +1 Gunwook Point. Please add +1 Gunwook point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose Taerae, read below:

“Stay 내 눈물이 마를 때까지...”

The sound of perfect vocal tone and the smell of delicious tteokbokki in the air makes you sigh with contentment. What a beautiful summer night on a fairy-light adorned city street. It’s how you feel every time you round the corner to Kim Taerae’s pocha and tonight is no exception.

“Stay, my dear, stay, my dear,” Taerae sings, nearing the end of the song as he strums his guitar thoughtfully. There’s one older couple standing a few feet in front of him, admiring his talents. Oh, how the mighty fall...

The gentleman hands Taerae some money as he and his partner walk in the opposite direction down the street. You take the opportunity to sneak up behind Taerae as he counts the money, quickly grabbing his shoulders when he least expects it.

Of course, you’re treated to the incredible main-vocalist shriek that you were hoping for. You grin evilly as he clutches his chest, glaring up at you.

“Don’t f*cking do that!” He scolds, smacking your leg. “Are you trying to kill me?”

You shake your head, feigning offense.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was talking to the Prime Minister of Innocence,” Taerae says with a snort. You frown, actually offended now. “Oh stop. You’re the one who attacked me in the middle of the night.”

You roll your eyes pointedly at his dramatics.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He asks suddenly, one eyebrow piquing suspiciously. “You want tteokbokki again? That’s a lot of junk food for one week.”

You kick him lightly with your foot as you pull out your phone, your screenreader vocalizing, “I came to hear you sing.”

Taerae laughs. “Sure you did. What do you really want?”

You sigh, typing, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Taerae’s lips part at this. Back when you were trainees, you had the worst sleeping health ever. Taerae was your roommate and he’d frequently wake up in the middle of the night to you pacing or having an anxiety attack or crying from exhaustion. One night, he just started singing lullabies and didn’t stop until you’d laid back down and fallen asleep. Eventually with some counseling and improving your daily habits, your sleep pattern mostly returned to normal. But the few times you’d had trouble after that, Taerae would always sing you back to sleep no matter what time it was. Sometimes he’d fall asleep next to you too.

“And walking around the city at night is gonna help you?” Taerae asks, trying to pretend he doesn’t understand. “Go home. Lie down. Close your eyes. I’m gonna start packing up anyway.”

“Just one more song?” Your screenreader asks as you smile at him as cute as is physically possible. “Then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Go,” he orders again, standing up and walking over to his tteokbokki cart-- starting to pack up his supplies for the night. You sigh disappointedly, walking back down the street the way you came. But before you can get too far, you hear a voice start to sing the same melody it sang five years ago...

“Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms...”

Your bond with Taerae has grown stronger. +1 Taerae Point. Please add +1 Taerae point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

FRIDAY 6/23 -- LATE NIGHT

Ricky takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing out the smoke before he can actually inhale. Just like he always does. Lounging on the purple, velvet vintage couch, a live band plays jazz music as about fifty of the highest elites in East Asia chat and drink around him.

There’s an idol he used to fancy a few years ago talking his ear off next to him. He hasn’t heard a single word they’ve said. But he can’t help it. Every time he tries to focus on something, his mind takes him to a different time.

A time when you were the one talking his ear off every Friday night at the newly opened Club Jeune et Riche. Funny how things change...

Now you can’t even talk.

And even if you could, you’d have to make up for a lot of shit before he’d lend an ear. And that was impossible.

He runs a hand across the purple velvet fabric of the couch, starting to smile to himself at the color before quickly setting himself straight. He makes a mental note to get the couch reupholstered before next week.

“Are you even listening to me?” A voice asks as Ricky stands up and walks over to the bar.

“Martini. Dry. Make it a double,” he says to the bartender flippantly.

“Sure thing, Sajang-nim,” the bartender replies, quickly fixing the drink and sliding it over to Ricky. Ricky nods in thanks.

He takes a sip from the glass with not so much as a wince. It burns, but it doesn’t phase him anymore. He remembers how every drink used to burn when you all were younger. How you used to pour a whole bottle of Grey Goose down his throat after a particularly stressful work week. He always wanted to quit halfway through, but the disappointment in your eyes would be too much for him to bear.

He suddenly wonders if it had always been your desire to destroy him, whether that be by ruining his career or giving him alcohol poisoning.

You made all of his best memories. And you were the worst thing that ever happened to him.

So why does he catch himself wishing you’ll show up at his club again every Friday night?

~

“You can do this,” you mutter to yourself, standing in the dim light of a street lamp across from Ricky’s club: Jeune et Riche. It had been awhile since you’d dared to venture to Cheongdam, what with your rapidly decreasing savings account and tattered reputation. 

Jeune et Riche is packed with beautiful, wealthy people tonight, per usual-- you even recognize a few idols and actors lined up outside, waiting to be let in by the black-tie bouncers at the door. You hadn’t forgotten about the tight security at Ricky’s posh club. How could you, when you were the reason it had been tightened in the first place?

It was a funny story actually. Back before Ricky hated your guts, you used to party every possible Friday night with him and Jiwoong-- occasionally accompanied by other members when they were free or willing, but it was mostly a three-person shindig. When Ricky bought Jeune et Riche last May before the incident, you were still all so busy with your idol schedules that he realized he could only manage to open the club one day a week. He chose Friday as a tribute to you and Jiwoong’s tradition. 

Opening night of Jeune et Riche, you’d gotten so sloshed that you accidentally spilled an entire bottle of Grey Goose on a very angry chaebol son that vowed to come back to the club next week and “bring back-up”. 

Your tall, blonde friend stood in front of you, effectively shielding you as the guy grew more threatening until a couple bouncers finally dragged him out. It’s safe to say Ricky’s security budget tripled because of your drunken mistake. At least he only had to pay them one night a week...

You look at the clipboards the bouncers are holding, knowing full-well your real name isn’t on the list of approved guests. No matter. Tonight, you’re getting into the club as:

Time to see how your Chapter Choice from Part Four plays out, Player! As a refresher, Choice 1 was to go to Ricky's club as Yourself and Choice 2 was to go to Ricky's club in disguise as American art collector Rebecca Song.

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “YOURSELF”:

Tonight, you’re getting into the club as yourself. Because you’re breaking in. 

After you got off of probation duty yesterday, you’d taken a little ride over to Jeune et Riche to survey the grounds. You put on a beanie and discarded your reflective vest in the backseat of your car. Phone in hand, you snooped around the building as unsuspiciously as possible-- hiding from the only security guard on duty in the early evening. 

Though it took a bit of searching, you’d found a window panel at the back that could easily be removed. You poked your head in, finding that the window was tucked behind the giant, winding staircase that leads to the second floor. It’s a convenient location that might provide you enough coverage to get in unnoticed so you can search for Ricky.

You’d just need to hope that security would be at the front of the building at the time of your little heist. Lucky for you, Gyuvin had given you the perfect idea to guarantee just that.

You make your way towards the lines of people waiting for entry into the (second) most sought after nightlife destination in Cheongdam, wearing your most elegant, couture outfit in order to blend in with the crowds. You settle towards the end of the line, placing the drone Yujin had bought Gyuvin for Christmas last year on the sidewalk in front of you. 

The drone begins to rise off the ground, higher and higher into the sky. You hope and pray Gyuvin knows what he’s doing for once in his life. 

Backing away from the end of the line and high-tailing it around the corner of the building, you hear confused security guards start to yell behind you. The distraction is working. You spot the broken window panel just as two guards start walking your way. You duck behind the wall as they breeze by you. 

“Can’t believe we’ve never had a drone incident before,” one guy says with a huff.

“I know,” the other responds with a chuckle. “What idiots came up with this? Don’t they know we can track the owner from the drone’s hard drive?”

F*ck. You’d have to worry about that later.

As soon as the coast is clear, you sprint to the window panel and start moving it aside. It’s a bit heavier than you expected and, for the first time tonight, you’re really missing your team of Phantom Thieves. Distracting security guards and breaking into buildings isn’t nearly as fun without a team of endearing imbeciles next to you.

The panel finally moves aside enough for you to climb inside. You land on two feet on ornate carpet behind the large staircase. You dust yourself off a bit, fixing your hair before stepping out into the open. You’re shocked at just how elegant everything is.

It’s suave and fashionable and dazzling, just as you’d tried to convince Ricky to design it when he’d first given you a tour of the building last May. You couldn’t believe when he rejected this idea that you felt suited him so well, especially in favor of keeping it “comfy” and “casual” at the time.

Ricky had never particularly liked comfy or casual anything. Why he’d said that originally was beyond your comprehension.

You walk towards the main bar of Jeune et Riche, hundreds of people packed in a vintage Hollywood style lounge. It’s dark, much more like a typical club environment and the music playing is an alluring mixture of house and brass instrumental. You keep your head down, as you walk the perimeter in search of Ricky but he’s nowhere to be found.

You make a haste exit, rerouting to where you remember the VIP lounge being. One door is propper ajar, though red velvet ropes block you from stepping inside. You observe from the entrance instead, since the room is smaller and a bit more well-lit. It’s themed like an up-scale speak-easy and jazz music blares from a live band in white tux jackets. Several celebrities and young public officials stand out to you, the VIP lounge populated by important and beautiful people. The kind of people you don’t fit in with anymore. The kind that Ricky still feels at home amongst.

But he’s not in this room either.

“When I catch you Ricky,” you mumble to yourself. “Ricky, when I catch you...”

Turning around to search the building further, you bump face-first into the impossibly cool fabric of a black, satin dress shirt. The tip of your nose vibrates as the owner of the shirt says, “Oh, do continue. I’m quite curious as to what it is you’re going to do when you catch me.”

You step backwards, eyes meeting steely-blue contacts that don’t do the malicious amusement of the platinum blonde standing in front of you nearly enough justice. He’s in a suit so dark it looks like a void, a red rose in the jacket pocket the only thing lighting up the sea of black. You imagine his eyes are either of these colors behind the contacts.

“Oh, hey Ricky,” you greet quickly, trying not to break a sweat as you feign nonchalance. You’re suddenly glad you didn’t overestimate your acting chops and come in disguise. “Fancy seeing you here! You--... you come here often?”

Your heart drops as he raises his eyebrows quickly at you, one pointer finger gesturing to the ceiling. “Upstairs. Now.”

“Yeah, for sure,” you agree with a sheepish wince as Ricky takes your forearm in his big, slender hand and guides you to the spiraling stairwell. You trudge up each step silently, heat radiating from the spot where Ricky is holding you too tight. At the top of the stairs, he unlocks a pair of large, arched doors and ushers you inside, quickly locking them again behind him.

Much to your surprise, Ricky has brought you into his art studio. And even more surprising, the room is completely empty aside from clean, white canvas tarps covering every surface inch. 

“How did you know I was here?” You ask, eyeing him warily.

“A security guy said a drone had been flying around the perimeter for a bit. They traced the signal back to TCM, so I figured one of you was wreaking havoc on my establishment,” Ricky explains curtly. “I walked around for a bit downstairs and then I smelled purple, so I knew it was you.”

Your left eyebrow piques in confusion. “... What did you just say?”

“I smelled purple so I knew it was--...” Ricky’s mouth closes immediately. “I--... I’ve always thought you smelled like the color--... Oh, forget it.”

“Ooookay,” you agree awkwardly, as Ricky fiddles with the rose in his pocket. You can’t tell if what he just said was meant to be an insult or an accidental compliment, so you just decide to let it slide. Maybe you’d never know what that was supposed to mean. “Hey, how’d you manage to get out of the Friday night meeting?”

He snorts. “Well, the company’s not gonna tell the biggest shareholder not to make his money, now are they?”

“Point taken,” you agree with a nod. “So, where’s all your work? Kinda thought your studio’d be a little more showy.”

“Sold it,” he answers.

“What!? All of it?” You protest with a frown. “What about the one with the cherry blossoms? You said I could have that one!”

“Like you could afford it,” he quips with a sneer.

“Such a f*cking jerk,” you mumble, shaking your head as you turn the other way.

“Oh, I’m the jerk?” Ricky retorts, amusement fading fast. “Last I remember, I’m not the one who murdered someone in cold blood.”

“Do you really think that? Do you really think that I’d ever do something like that?” You ask, head whipping around again. “F*ck Ricky, I know I’m no angel. But if you’re willing to believe after all our years of friendship that I’d ever be capable of that, then... Maybe we were never really friends.”

He looks down at his expensive Italian shoes. Shoes you bought him as a birthday present at Milan Fashion Week. He told you not to waste your money when he could buy them himself, but it wasn’t a waste because what else is there to do with money other than spend it on the people you love?

“Maybe not,” Ricky whispers. “Maybe I never really knew you behind the liquor.”

There could be truth in that, you think. Just not in the way he’s intending it.

“We used to have a pretty good time though,” you muse out loud. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel invincible the way I used to here with you. So f*cked up and everything was just...”

“Perfect,” Ricky finishes and for a second, you think he’s about to smile. “And now everything f*cking sucks. Because of you.”

You nod to yourself, before a thought crosses your mind. “Not everything.”

He laughs callously. “Oh yeah? Please, tell me how you’ve improved my life this year.”

“Well, you finally took my speakeasy theme suggestion,” you say with a shrug. “Seems to be a pretty big hit with the guests.”

Ricky rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“It’s f*cking amazing, Ricky,” you assert, throwing your hands out in emphasis. He blinks at you slowly. “It’s exactly like how you always dreamed it would be. It fits who you are so perfectly! Elegant, mysterious, charming... I can’t believe you ever said you wanted to keep it ‘comfy and casual’! It literally SUCKED before-- compared to this.”

Ricky clears his throat suddenly, looking back down at his shoes. “Well, it wasn’t that bad before...”

“Yes, it was,” you insist, crossing your arms. “Maybe alcohol does rot the brain. Literally, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about how before I bought the place you said all you wanted was a ‘comfy and casual’ hangout spot for us to party!” Ricky blurts exasperatedly.

You stare at each other, unblinking for a moment as your lips part in shock. “You--... you bought the club for me?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets annoyedly, looking at anything but you. “I... I didn’t say that.”

“Ricky...” You say, eyes starting to water. He looks up at you, his gaze softening.

But it doesn’t last long as the inside of his cheek fits between his teeth. “I guess that doesn’t matter now though.”

You swallow hard. “Because now you wish you never met me. Now you hate me.”

“Yeah,” he affirms, looking you up and down for the first time since he’d caught you-- brow furrowed in introspective hesitation. “But it’s...”

You wait patiently for him to sort through his thoughts. And you’re glad you do.

“Seeing you alone, face to face,” Ricky says, eyes filled with sadness. “It’s become clear again that it’s more complicated than I try to pretend it is.”

Your bond with Ricky has grown stronger. +1 Ricky Point. Please add +1 Ricky point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “REBECCA SONG”:

Tonight, you’re getting into the club as Rebecca Song: esteemed, American art-collector. It would be the role of a lifetime and you’d been prepping vigorously for the past 48 hours in order to perfect your performance. Jiwoong had found a slinky, black Versace evening dress that some random hook-up had left in his hotel room once (ew, but at least you didn’t have to spend money on an outfit). 

Gyuvin had snuck into the stylists’ storage space while at the company on Thursday and found a long, sophisticated blonde wig from one of the episodes of your old variety show you’d filmed a couple years ago. Taerae had played a character named “Tammy”. It’s better if it’s not explained any further than that.

Yujin had enlisted a very confused but elated Hanbin to teach you to “slay” harder. You’d mastered werking and serving since your debut, but you have to admit that slaying had never come particularly easy to you. Hanbin fixed your issue in a little over an hour, with lots of accompanying laughter and blackmail photo-taking from your maknae.

You’d even enlisted the help of Gunwook to make a realistic, credible website for heiress, art-collector Rebecca Song. He’d looked at you strangely through his webcam, one eyebrow raised in suspicion as he stared at the document of information you needed him to include. Right as you thought he’d been about to refuse, you wired him 150,000 won through Kakao Pay. He got to work right away after that and the result was... convincing enough for Ricky.

The final touch was a very official-sounding text message from Rebecca’s representatives, which you sent from a fake American number around dinner time this evening. Though he’d been skeptical at first, the link to the website Gunwook made is enough to convince your genius-of-art but not genius-of-smart ex-friend. You request an invite to Jeune et Riche for tonight.

Hook, line and sinker. ‘I hope she looks forward to meeting with me.' Classic Shen Ricky.

And now, you make your way to the VIP line outside of Ricky’s club. You have to admit, it feels pretty good to be considered a VIP again. Even if you have to pretend to be a completely different person to receive the special treatment.

Much to your surprise, Ricky is waiting outside-- pacing nervously back and forth nervously as he wrings his hands together. When he spots you in the red velvet roped line, Ricky jogs over to you immediately. 

He nods his head respectfully, a hand outstretched for you to shake. “It’s a pleasure to make my acquaintance, I’m sure of it. I’m Ricky.”

Your hands are covered in long, elegant satin gloves; your eyes shielded by fashionable sunglasses and a haute couture wide-brimmed hat. “Charmed,” you reply, a glimmer of hope lightening your spirit at the believability of your American accent. “Miss Rebecca Song, of the American Song elite dynasty.”

“Wow,” Ricky says, looking you over from head to toe. He appears to be delighted by your appearance. “You’re absolutely breath-taking. I mean, seriously. This must be how others feel when they meet me.”

You look at Ricky, fighting every urge in your body to smack him silly. He does kind of have a point, though. From the icy, blonde hair, to the sleek, all black formal attire... You realize you’ve accidentally dressed up as the female version of Ricky.

It would only make sense that he’s attracted to you like this. You’ve caught him flirting in the mirror with himself more times than you can count.

This was not what you had intended. But if it would help the chances of a successful operation, you might as well just roll with it.

Ricky keeps your hand tucked delicately in his as he leads you through the entrance of Jeune et Riche and into the VIP lounge. His presence is met with happy uproar, men in suits standing up to clink their glasses with his and guests of all genders ogling him with desire. 

Amid the chaos, Ricky laces his arm through yours to keep you steady next to him. He escorts you to the bar-- a black-tie bartender shimmying over faster than lightning to assist his employer. “What will you be having to drink, Sajang-nim?”

“I’ll have an old-fashioned,” Ricky responds before looking to you. “Miss Song?”

“I--.”

“Actually, could I make a recommendation?” Ricky asks with a smile and, honestly, you’re a bit distracted by that smile. You haven’t seen it in such a long time. You nod. “We’ve just added a cocktail that’s become quite popular with guests already. It’s called the French 76.”

“French Seventy... Six?” You ask, assuming he misspoke.

Ricky laughs. “Yes, it’s a new spin on the French 75. Instead of gin, it’s made with vodka.”

You freeze. “Vodka?”

“Yes, it’s really very good,” Ricky encourages. “You can’t go wrong with Grey Goose.”

Grey Goose. You haven’t had Grey Goose since...

You look up at him cautiously, searching his eyes for any sign that Ricky’s already recognized you and is putting you to the test. But your search comes up empty. He’s just really excited about the new cocktail.

It would be suspicious if you refused. So you nod quickly, forcing a small smile on your lips, “Sounds divine.”

Ricky’s arm laces with yours again as you ascend the spiral staircase up to his studio. Slaying on level ground had become fairly easy, but Hanbin hadn’t mentioned anything about slayage at an incline. Short form: you were thankful for Ricky’s uncharacteristic thoughtfulness.

How lucky could one (fictional) girl be?

Pulling a keycard out of his wallet, Ricky unlocks the arched doors that lead to his studio. He holds the right door open for you as you step inside.

You’d actually never been inside Ricky’s art studio before. It was a space that had always been strictly  off limits to you and the other members, so to finally be seeing it like this made you feel a bit…

Guilty.

The room is large but surprisingly humble in decor, the floors and walls all covered in white cotton sheets. There’s splatters of paint scattered throughout the well-lit studio-- easels with finished work displayed on them gathered at the center of the space, too far away to see them properly.

But as you step closer to the painting in front of you, you gasp as you recognize the subject depicted in them immediately...

It’s you.

“These are my exclusive pieces from my canceled gallery. It was titled Ambivalence,” Ricky says quietly. “It means to have conflicting or opposing emotions at the same time toward one subject.”

You swallow, trying to regain your composure as you move to the next painting and then the next and the next. They’re all of you. Different degrees of hatred seeping into each depiction of your likeness; purple and red the main color motif throughout the gallery pieces. Some of them feature other members of your group alongside you.

Some of them are just you. 

“Who--...” You stammer, trying to swallow down the lump that’s forming in your throat. “Who is the subject?”

Ricky stiffens. “Someone I used to know.”

“Used to know!?” You exclaim indignantly. Clearing your throat, you bluff, “I mean... I’ve seen many artists who... paint one subject over and over, motivated by intense emotion. The colors and technique you use suggest that this is still a fresh wound.”

“Hm,” Ricky hums, looking down at the floor as he considers your words. “Perhaps I’ve been too obvious in my approach. I should throw these away and try again...”

“NO!” You shout, grabbing his arm and keeping him from shredding up his work on the spot (which you know is a regular pattern of his). Ricky’s gaze falls to your gloved hand wrapped around his arm. “No, I find them worthy of my collection... because of their rawness.”

Ricky turns back to the painting in front of you. “I see.”

“Could you explain to me what the two colors represent?” You ask, urging him to spill a little more to you.

He nods slowly, pointing at the canvas with his pinky finger to the fiery red washes across your face. “The red, of course, represents anger. Resentment. Hatred. Loathing. For what they did. And how they hurt me.”

“Right. Of course.” Your cheeks burn red just like the painting at the intensity of Ricky’s distaste for you. He moves his finger to the rich, purple washes on the painting.

“The purple hues... “ Ricky trails off, coughing lightly as if he’s embarrassed by something. “The subject wears a fragrance that smells like the color purple to me. So I always associate purple with them.”

You raise your eyebrows at this. Ricky had never mentioned associating you with the color purple before.

“I think that the purple represents the subject themself,” he says, nodding definitively to himself. “And, the truth is, I’ve always truly adored the color purple.”

The sudden confession makes you dizzy. Lightheaded, you stumble into a very surprised Ricky’s arms. 

“Oh, Miss Song,” he says, holding you close. “I’ve touched you with the tortured depths of my soul. You’ve fallen in love with me, haven’t you? This wouldn’t be the first time this has happened...”

Ricky is close to you. Too close.

“How funny,” he says slowly, in a way that suggests he’s noticed something very unfunny. “You smell like purple, too.”

You jerk backwards, trying to get out of his range of scent but you stumble on the hem of your dress-- falling backwards into an easel...

Your wig snags on the corner of the easel, falling off your head as your sunglasses clatter to the floor. Ricky is alarmingly silent as you wince at the ground.

“Guess you can give it up,” he says, your eyes meeting finally. “The aversion to the Grey Goose makes a lot of sense now.”

“I knew you really hated me, but,” you say quietly. “I didn’t know it was enough to fuel a whole gallery of paintings.”

“It could probably fuel a few more galleries, honestly,” he replies with a shrug. “But, like I said, it’s more... complicated than that.”

Your bond with Ricky has grown stronger. +2 Ricky Points. Please add +2 Ricky points to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

You nod slowly. “Is the... complication... the reason you haven’t kicked me out yet?” 

“No. I’m actually kind of flattered that you’d go to such lengths to spend some time with me,” he answers with a sad smile. “Something must be really wrong. So spill.”

“I--... I need your help,” you confess after a moment with a heavy sigh. “I really, really need your help with something.

Ricky swallows hard, eyes widening slightly at your request. “Why me? Can’t you ask Gyuvin or Hanbin hyung or--?”

“No, I can’t,” you interject quickly. “I need your help, Ricky. And I... I can’t really offer much more of an explanation than that until you see the situation for yourself.”

Your tallest, blondest friend looks at you for a long time. Then he laughs, a small smile turning up the corner of his lips. “I always knew you’d come begging for my help some day. I honestly can’t believe it took this long.”

“Ugh, I hate it when you do that,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “You’ve always gotta turn everything into one big Ricky d*ck-suck.”

Ricky coughs awkwardly at your sudden familiarity. “So, what’s the ‘situation that I have to see for myself’? I should probably assess it before deciding whether or not to provide assistance.”

You take your phone out of the Gucci purse slung over your shoulder and check the time. 11:57 P.M. The boys would be done at the company soon. “We can go now, if you want? I’ll drive.”

“You want me to get in a car with you behind the wheel? Seriously?” Ricky asks, staring at you like you have two heads. “Your driving isn’t exactly award-winning.”

“Don’t you fucking say another word,” you say, kneeling in front of him as you grab his tie in one hand and cover his mouth with the other. He stares at you, shocked by the assertiveness and close proximity-- his ears turning red even as you loosen your grip.

“Let’s go,” Ricky says quietly when you remove your hand from over his mouth, standing up and brushing off his black suit pants. 

“Yeah. Let’s.”

~

You’ll never admit it to Ricky, but you’re extra, extra careful as you drive him to the Total Control building. You were always a good driver, but you really didn’t need any more flack from him. Ricky calmed down after the first few minutes and a slightly comfortable, slight uncomfortable silence has settled over you.

That is until you realize something major.

“HOLY SHIT, MY VOICE!” You yell, the sudden blast of sound causing Ricky to jump in his seat and clutch his chest. “You never said anything about my voice!”

“Oh, right,” he replies, rubbing his collarbone anxiously. “Honestly, Hao showed me a PowerPoint presentation he made a few months ago claiming you’d been faking it this whole time. He was pretty convincing so I sort of just went with it.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Hao,” you say through gritted teeth. “But it’s not true. My voice came back on Monday, actually. I’m--... I’m trying to keep it on the down low.”

“Are you asking me to keep your secret?” Ricky asks as he stares at the side of your face. “You can’t possibly think the chances of that are very good.”

“Not yet,” you agree, pulling into a parking spot on the street behind the company building. You scan the back entrance for the other boys, but they’re nowhere to be found. “But I’m willing to bet they’ll improve drastically in a few minutes.”

“Didn’t remember you being so hopelessly optimistic,” Ricky remarks with a frown.

From the back entrance of the building, Jiwoong suddenly emerges. He looks around and you flash your lights to let him know you’re there. 

“C’mon,” you command, stepping out of the car and walking toward Jiwoong as Ricky follows far too leisurely behind. “Would a little urgency kill you?”

“I’d prefer not to take any chances,” Ricky answers with a smirk. 

When you reach the door, Jiwoong ushers you both inside. He removes the black face mask he’s wearing, putting a hand on Ricky’s shoulder. “Hey man. How are you?”

“You are not getting invited back to Jeune et Riche,” Ricky replies coldly. “So don’t even think about it. Do you know how much I had to shell out to get the paparazzi to delete those pictures of you making out with the President’s son?”

“President Kim doesn’t have a son,” you reply with a frown.

Ricky chews his cheek, correcting, “The President of Korea.”

Jiwoong presses his lips together in embarrassment. “Good to see you too.”

“What are we doing here?” Ricky asks, looking around the dusty basement of TCM. “I’m allergic to poor air quality.”

“Isn’t everyone allergic to--?” Jiwoong starts to ask needlessly before you cut him off.

“We’re going up,” you say, walking over to the open elevator and stepping inside-- Jiwoong on your heels. 

“Who is this ‘we’ you speak of?” Ricky asks, following you onto the elevator and then shoving you back out into the hallway. “You are legally barred from stepping foot on any foot occupied by TCM property or personnel. There’s no way you have the money to pay the fine for that.”

At this point, he’s probably right, you think as you force your way back onto the elevator. Luckily, you and the rest of the Phantom Thieves had already devised a plan in case things go awry. You could count on them, couldn’t you?

You glance at Jiwoong, who is busy pressing every elevator button to every floor in the building and giggling like a little sh*t.

What’s another few hundred thousand won?

Though you have to go through a few extra floors, you eventually reach your destination: the business and finance department. You step off the elevator, pulling a face mask up to shield any of your identifying features.

“Where are the others?” You ask, looking around for Gyuvin and Yujn’s hiding spot.

“Others?” Ricky asks a little too loud. You and Jiwoong shush him mercilessly and he snarls in response.

“I dunno actually,” Jiwoong whispers as you round the corner. “Gyubinnie just said to trust him.”

“And you did!?” You whisper-scream back at him. Before he can defend himself, the door next to you suddenly opens and a large hand pulls you inside a room. Gyuvin shuts the door quietly behind Ricky as you all file in. You look around, realizing you’re in some sort of utility closet. 

“Okay, with no due respect, what the f*ck is going on?” Ricky demands, quickly growing tired of this whole thing. 

“So, this is gonna be hard to believe but--,” Jiwoong starts to explain before Yujin cuts him off.

“We’ve got three minutes left of our break,” Yujin says, checking his phone. “He’ll be fine. None of us got an explanation beforehand.”

“An explanation of what?” Ricky prods again to no avail, tongue poking at his cheek in frustration.

“He’s right,” you agree, nodding at the youngest. “There’s nothing we could say that would actually prepare him anyway. So let’s go.”

"COMMAND RECEIVED. NAVIGATING TO: THE METAVERSE: LEVEL 1 SAFE ROOM. ENJOY YOUR STAY."

Despite the MetaNav registering your command, the atmosphere fails to change. You wait for a moment and then another and another... 

“I’m leaving,” Ricky announces suddenly to which Gyuvin responds by blocking the door. “Step out of the way. I did not sign up for nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” Yujin argues. “Just hold on a second.”

“Unlike you four, I actually have a life to attend to,” Ricky says, starting to wrestle with Gyuvin to ge to the door handle. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be--.”

Ricky grabs the door handle, throwing it open to reveal a giant castle vault in place of the plethora of office desks. Piles of gold line the stone floors and rows and rows of small, locked depositories line the walls.

Ricky stares at the sight before him, gobsmacked as he takes it all in. “You--... You...”

“... ‘You deserve an apology’?” Gyuvin finishes for him, rubbing the spot on his rib cage where Ricky had shoved him. “I think that’s what you were trying to say.”

“You f*cking drugged me!?” Ricky shouts, fuming as his gaze fixes on you. “I thought you--... I really thought you needed me. But you were just playing a sick f*cking joke on me! I’m so f*cking stupid.”

You blink back at him, a bit stunned by the sadness in his voice.

“I thought I was going to get to trust you again.”

The bitter disappointment in Ricky’s eyes is enough to break your heart all over again. But you’d only have to endure the pain for a little while longer. Hopefully.

He walks to the center of the vault, picking up a small gold coin and flipping it over in his hand. Then he throws it at a vase, shattering it into innumerable pieces. “F*CK YOU!”

“Should we stop him?” Jiwoong asks, grimacing at the uncomfortable sight.

You shake your head. “No, he needs to--.”

Your sentence is cut short by the sound of a metallic clink hitting the stone floor. You walk over to the shattered vase, sifting through the debris to find a gold key. Picking it up, you turn around-- taking a closer look at the vases littered around the atrium of the vault. There’s a set of English letters inscribed on each one. 

“Our initials!” You exclaim. “Each vase has one of our initials on it. This one must’ve been mine.”

“Where’s Ricky’s?” Gyuvin asks, immediately running over to begin searching. 

“I found it!” Yujin calls, beckoning you all over. 

Ricky looks at the vase confusedly. “This is a really weird trip.”

Jiwoong grabs a gold coin, waiting for your signal before smashing the vase-- a key clinking to the ground. You pick it up, examining the key and comparing it with yours when you suddenly hear a ‘hm’ from the other side of the vault. You turn to find Ricky looking at the rows of safes on the back wall.

“What’d you find, bud?” Jiwoong asks cautiously.

“Our initials,” Ricky answers after a moment. “They’re on these safe boxes, too. You know, I really would’ve thought I’d be hallucinating less of you all.”

“Ricky, you’re amazing!” You exclaim, running over to him and forcing up his hand to high-five you. 

“I know and I’m not surprised you’d think that,” Ricky agrees-- shaking his head. “But no amount of flattery is going to--.”

You shove him out of the way, looking for Ricky’s initials as he sulks in the corner.

“Got it!” Gyuvin says, tapping on the copper safe. You hand Ricky’s key to him, but as Gyuvin presses it into the lock...

BRRRRRRAAAAAAANG. BRRRRRAAAAAANG.

“Sh*t,” you exhale as a piercing alarm sounds, pointing to a hidden conclave to the right of the wall of safes. “Hurry, in here!”

Four shadow guards march into the vault, equipped with glaives that seem much bigger and sharper than the ones previous guards held. Directly behind them, is a figure that you’ve seen before, dripping in gold-threaded silk...

Chief Financial Officer Lee.

President Kim’s ex-wife’s older brother, CFO Lee had been brought onto the company quite recently after the collapse of TCM’s stocks last year. The previous CFO quit in a hurry to save his reputation and President Kim needed an... easy... replacement. From what you read online, he does at least have a college degree. In graphic design.

Suddenly you realize that, in the race to the hiding spot, you forgot to take Ricky with you. Well... Maybe it would speed up the awakening process... Best case scenario...

“CFO Lee?” Ricky asks, closing his eyes really hard and then reopening them. “What--... what are you wearing?”

“Really? That’s his first question?” Yujin asks with a frown.

“Ricky-sshi, how good it is to see you,” CFO Lee bellows as he and the guards move closer. The Phantom Thieves assume the defense as you signal for them to hold their fire. “You were missed at the last shareholders’ meeting. And the one before that.”

Ricky’s brow furrows. “I had a thing.”

“Oh yes. You always have a thing,” CFO Lee says with a malicious smirk, approaching the wall of safes. CFO Lee twists the key still sitting in the lock, opening the safe with Ricky’s initials on it. From the conclave, you can see that inside the safe are dozens of parchment scrolls, each tied with red, velvet ribbon. He removes the largest scroll from this safe, untying the ribbon and handing it to Ricky. “You make it so easy for us to make our financial decisions without you.”

Ricky opens the scroll, reading carefully what’s written on it. After a moment, he shakes his head. “I--... I don’t understand. This is just a list of all the shareholder donations I made to the company this year.”

“A closer look, perhaps?” CFO Lee suggests with evil delight. “How about you read it aloud for us all to enjoy?”

“Bastard,” Gyuvin mumbles under his breath.

“Below is a list of every contribution made by top shareholder Shen Ricky to the receiving parties...” Ricky pauses, brow raising in shock. “Kim Hyunwoo and Lee Jungil? But--... But...”

“The King has had such a hard time managing his kingdom,” CFO Lee says, ripping the scroll from Ricky’s hand. “He can hardly afford his penthouse in Hannam-dong or the new BMW he had to buy after his... accident.”

“What!? No,” Ricky asserts, grabbing the scroll back from CFO Lee and reading it over again. “No, that can’t be true. I--... That money is supposed to keep the company afloat. It’s supposed to go toward all of our dorm expenses and debts until our contracts expire.”

“Oh, do not fret, Ricky-sshi,” CFO Lee replies, voice coated in venom. “Your contributions also helped us pay off the expenses of bribing the court for (Y/N)-sshi’s trial.”

“This--... this is just a hallucination... This isn’t real,” Ricky attempts to assure himself, but you can tell it isn’t really working. You press your lips together, waiting for him to come to his own realization. He looks down at the scroll. “But I--... How can I read this so clearly? Shouldn’t it be all jumbled and blurry? Or not make any sense?”

“How about we test this reality?” CFO Lee suggests, motioning to the guards. The four shadow guards charge at Ricky, prompting you to give the Phantom Thieves a signal to attack. You dart out behind the corner into the atrium of the vault, each directing your powers at a different guard. But for some reason, the guard Gyuvin targets does not take the damage and it instead reflects back at your best friend. Ice engulfs his large hand before shattering to the ground, leaving a wicked frostbite across every inch.

“Ai-ssh,” Gyuvin seethes in pain, but you’re too busy watching in horror as the guard left unharmed pierces the fabric of Ricky’s suit jacket at his shoulder, pinning him to the wall of safes. 

You see the shift in Ricky’s eyes. The pure terror, the anguish, and finally the rage that this is real. He screams, sweat trickling down his face. It was a close call and, luckily, it was just close enough to break him...

I SEE YOU HAVE FINALLY AWOKEN. HOW LONG-AWAITED OUR FIRST MEETING IS. I AM GOEMON, FAMED ROBINHOOD OF JAPAN. THE PLEASURE IS ALL YOURS, OF THIS I HAVE NO DOUBTS. LET US NOW BE ONE AS WE TAKE BACK THE RICHES THEY’VE STOLEN AND GIVE THEM TO THOSE IN NEED.

Schrrip...

New Confidant Unlocked: Emperor *ੈ Shen Ricky

“I assume that never gets any easier to watch,” Jiwoong whispers to you, wincing in horror.

You shake your head solemnly. “Never.”

A slow, dark laugh draws your attention back to Ricky, still pinned against the wall of safes. He grabs the glaive by its handle and rips it out of the wall, shoving it through the guards’ shadowy head. 

The guard disappears in a cloud of black smoke, revealing Ricky in a spotted cat mask. You help surround CFO Lee, smirking at Ricky as he takes control like a natural. He extends his hands artfully, almost like he’s about to paint across a canvas.

“Keynes, Hamilton, Li Ka-shing... Lee Jungil,” Ricky says, eyeing CFO Lee like he’s prey. “What do these men have in common?”

CFO Lee gulps. “We--... We’re all finance guys?”

Ricky smiles.

And you’re all dead men. ‧ ₊ ✫ ˚・

A blast of thick, black paint pours from Ricky’s fingers, coating CFO Lee entirely. He begins to cry for help as the paint leaks into his mouth and eyes. No one moves.

New Skill Unlocked: True Artist's Grace ᝰ.ᐟ

“You-’ll--... you’ll pay for this,” CFO sputters as paint drips down his throat, liquid body collapsing to the ground. “You’ll--... Pay...”

Only a black puddle of paint is left in front of you. 

“Ricky,” you call, running over to him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he answers quietly, eyes devoid of emotion. He looks completely drained. “Can we just--... can we just leave this place? Whatever it is?”

You nod. “Yeah, I think it’s about time we head out. Back to the utility closet.”

When you finally finish explaining everything to Ricky, he stares straight ahead at the Han River as you sit parked at the overlook in your car.

“Why did you pick me?” He asks suddenly.

You tilt your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, surely there were better choices of members to get involved,” he reasons with a shrug. “Taerae, Hanbin-- Matthew gets here Sunday. They’ve all been far nicer to you in the past few months than I have. So why me?”

“Honestly?” You offer, bracing for his reaction. “We need medicine and supplies if we’re gonna do this. Luckily, you didn’t get hurt in there but... Last time, Yujin took a real beating. I was incredibly hesitant, but he suggested that we bring you on board because we don’t have the money to get it ourselves.”

Ricky chuckles to himself sadly. “I appreciate the lack of sugar-coating.”

“But I’m really, really glad we did choose you, because--.”

“I’ll do it,” Ricky cuts you off. “I’ll help you. So save the theatrics for someone who wants them.”

You look down at your lap awkwardly.

“In exchange for a favor,” he adds quickly. You look up to find him smirking at you.

“I don’t like that look,” you say, grimacing. “But fine. What do you want?”

“I’ve been feeling like my art has really suffered since last year. Between running the club and helping with my father’s business in China, I haven’t had time to return to the basics like I should,” he explains.

“Where is this going?” You ask, growing annoyed.

“Will you be my model tomorrow evening?” Ricky asks, charming eyes staring back at you. “I’ll be focusing on perfecting... the human form.”

“EW!” You squeal, smacking his shoulder. He winces a little too hard and you consider criticizing his theatrics. “You are so disgusting.”

He laughs genuinely now. “I was right: the look on your face is, in fact, priceless. I don’t actually need any favors from you. I’m in. But if you wanna come by my studio tomorrow evening and be a fully-clothed model for me, you’re more than welcome. I--... I’d really like to--...”

“I’d really like to catch up with you, too, Ricky,” you finish for him, whether it’s what he was going to say or not. And you mean it.

The only problem is...

You told Yujin that you’d treat him to dinner tomorrow night.

⁺⋆✰ Chapter Choice ✰⋆⁺

It's up to you, Player. Will you choose... Please note that only readers that are Yujin’s age/minors should choose Yujin, as this choice will have slight romantic elements. Thank you!

CHOICE 1: Dinner with Yujin

OR

CHOICE 2: Paint with Ricky

JUNE 21st -- AFTERNOON

Yujin had begged Manager Sang to let him miss today’s company meeting. He assumed they’d just be receiving more vaguely discouraging news from President Kim like they usually did every few weeks, so what was the point of going anyway? 

Total Control were just counting down the days until ZeroBaseOne’s contracts expired at this point. That way they could finally pawn off Gunwook and himself to the highest bidding company for re-debut and push Hao as fully a soloist.

But after a semester exploring an incredible gift of an opportunity he had been given, Yujin wasn’t even sure if he wanted to redebut anymore.

From the start, Yujin had only wanted to be in ZeroBaseOne. He was barely in high school when Total Control’s survival show changed his life forever. His members became his friends and often his parents-by-proxy. Obviously, he didn’t need that sort of coddling anymore, but it never stopped them from pinching his cheeks and cooing at him affectionately as he seethed.

Despite his annoying members and the indefinite hiatus of the group, Yujin could imagine less and less having an idol career separate from the incredibly dysfunctional family you all had formed throughout the years.

But the inherent need to dance still called unshakably to him. And that’s where attending university had swooped in to save him…

When Yujin auditioned for the Dance Performance major at the Korean National University of Arts in the winter, he’d been automatically waitlisted. It broke his heart, but he ultimately knew he wouldn’t have been able to afford university anyway-- what with the debt he owed the company continuing to pile up and all.

No work, no pay. For anyone. 

Manager Sang had somehow caught word of this and held a meeting with the upper management of Total Control right away. When President Kim called Yujin into his executive office the following week and told him that the company would pay his university tuition if he eventually passed the Dance Performance major audition, the youngest member of ZeroBaseOne was shocked. 

He’d always thought of President Kim as a bit of a blowhard, so this seemingly benevolent opportunity left him a bit shaken. So shaken that Yujin could barely focus on reading or interpreting the lengthy contract shoved immediately in front of him.

Luckily, Manager Sang was there to explain it to him and, after assuring he found no pitfalls in it, Yujin shakily signed his name on the dotted line in a happy daze.

That had been the only good news Yujin had received from the company since your... accident. So he almost threw up from whiplash after President Kim announced half an hour ago in the company boardroom that all ZeroBaseOne members (the ones not currently serving time for a felony, of course) would start preparing for a comeback by the start of next week. 

Yujin had come straight to the company after his calculus exam that afternoon feeling positive that his efforts had yielded him good results. There had been no doubt in his mind that he’d ace his audition for the Dance Performance department after the meeting at Total Control, but a full hyperventilation episode in the bathroom later has Yujin currently sprinting down the street-- three minutes late for his audition appointment.

“Han Yujin-sshi?” A feminine voice is calling as Yujin nearly collapses into the university’s main auditorium. The tone of the voice suggests that it’s called his name several times already. Yujin bows furiously in apology at the judges’ panel as he runs down the aisle, throwing his duffel bag down haphazardly on a theater seat and unlacing his shoes like he’s gunning for a world record. 

He clambers up onto the stage, gulping when he suddenly remembers how big the auditorium is-- something that would never have bothered him a year ago. Yujin had been practicing almost every night for at least nine weeks with Hanbin at his dance studio, perfecting his audition routine until there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would make the cut.

Yujin had pulled an all-nighter studying for his calculus final last night, but Hanbin had reassured him that he had nothing to worry about.

“You know what you have to do,” Hanbin said, running his hand through Yujin’s hair fondly. “Nothing’s gonna get in the way of this between now and tomorrow. Believe in yourself. You’re a shoe-in.”

Hanbin could never have predicted the news they’d received this afternoon and the pained look in his eyes from across the conference room said it all.

“I am new student, Han Yujin,” he introduces himself a bit robotically to the panel of six judges in front of him. He knows a couple of them from his elective dance classes this past semester, but most of the other judges are higher-ups in the department that he’d only seen at his previous failed audition. There’s a wave of nausea in Yujin’s stomach and he quietly swallows it down. “I am eighteen years old and I have been dancing since I was in middle school. I’m grateful for the opportunity to display my skills to the judges and I will work hard to be a member of the Dance Performance school.”

Yujin waits for the music to start in his opening stance but when it doesn’t, he realizes there’s whispering coming from the judges’ table. 

“Excuse me, Han Yujin-sshi,” a rather stern-looking older man that Yujin doesn’t recognize calls out to him. The hopeful student brings his arms back to his side, nodding compliantly at him. “Are you the idol Han Yujin?”

Yujin bows quickly. “Yes, sir. I am Han Yujin of idol group ZeroBaseOne.”

“I see,” the older man replies, whispering something to the woman beside him before meeting Yujin’s gaze again. “I’ve heard your group has made quite the mess of yourselves. I’m surprised you admitted to your membership under these circumstances, but I respect the honesty nonetheless. Please continue with your performance, Han Yujin-sshi.”

The audition is a blur. The music comes on and Yujin performs his routine, but his mind is everywhere but the auditorium. Instead, he’s thinking about the judge’s comments, Hanbin’s look of pity across the boardroom, the air in his lungs that never seems like it’s enough, the thought of not being able to go to university anymore...

The monthly envelopes of cash that his parents have to send him so that he can eat...

The otherworldly roar of the crowd only a little over a year ago when ZeroBaseOne performed a sold-out encore show at the Skydome...  

The bloodcurdling sound of you screaming your lungs out wafting all the way to the police station waiting room as you plead your innocence...

“Thank you, Yujin-sshi. We’ll look forward to seeing your continued improvement at our next audition.”

JUNE 21st -- EVENING

Yujin stands outside the door of your dorm building, stuck ruminating about whether or not to go inside. On one hand, if he went inside he’d have to tell everyone about his failure. But on the other hand, he could go to sleep in his perfect, warm bed and (hopefully) never wake up.

He takes a deep breath. Maybe he could avoid everyone if he just kept his head down and made a beeline straight to his room.

Yujin opens the door, ready to make a run for it when he comes face to face with…

Let's find out the effects of your Chapter Choice for Part Three, Player! To refresh your memory, Choice 1 was to make Jiwoong do Lots of Aegyo while Choice 2 was to request A Kiss.

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “LOTS OF AEGYO”:

“You—,” Jiwoong stutters, taking a step back. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.”

“I can,” you affirm with an evil smile. “And I will. And I’ll also film it and make you post it.”

“But… But I have a reputation to uphold!” Jiwoong protests, running his hands through his hair in anguish.

“Do you?” You and Gyuvin snort at the same time.

“Oh, shut up,” Jiwoong spits, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why couldn’t you have asked me to, like… make your bed… or… I dunno, like, kiss you or something?”

“WhAt,” you squeak. “Why would I ask you to kiss me?”

“I dunno, you probably can’t get anyone else to,” Jiwoong replies with a shrug, his ears turning crimson. “Okay, can we just get on with the aegyo?”

“Yeah, can we?” Gyuvin seconds with a huff.

“Yeah… Yeah, okay,” you agree, pulling out your phone and opening the camera app. “Can you do a cheek poke?”

Jiwoong sulks, puffing out his cheek and poking it with his index finger. He looks like a depressed toddler. You take a pic.

“Uh, how about a finger heart?” Gyuvin suggests with a shrug as he stares at Jiwoong like his hyung has three heads. 

Jiwoong makes a finger heart with his right hand, positioning it in front of his face as he continues to frown. 

“Can you just f*cking lighten up for a second?” You ask, lowering your phone. “Is it that hard? Do I need to physically force you to look happy?”

“Happiness wasn’t part of the deal,” Jiwoong replies with a smirk, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no, no— get those hands out of your pockets! I’m not done with you!” You shout, walking over to Jiwoong and prying both of his hands back into the open. You form a ‘C’ with each of his hands and stick them to each of his cheeks. “Ohhhh, soooo cute Jiwoongie!”

Jiwoong is placated as he stares back at you, doe-eyed as you take a picture. It’s as good as you’re gonna get.

You send it to him and then grab his phone from his hands, making sure he opens Instagram to post it. Once you hand it back to him, you watch attentively as he types a caption and posts the aegyo picture.

“Aren’t you just the cutest baby boy in the whole world?” You tease as Jiwoong turns red again, rubbing it in as much as possible while you have the opportunity. “Jiwoongie is sooo adorable, I could just. Eat. Him. Right. Up.”

Your bond with Jiwoong has grown stronger. +0 Jiwoong Point. 

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “A KISS”:

“A WHAT!?” Gyuvin shouts, your hand flying to cover his mouth. You definitely don’t need to attract the attention of anyone else in the dorm right now. Still, your tallest friend continues to protest, “MMWHHMM!”

Jiwoong just blinks at you, eyes widening a bit in nervous surprise. “Are you—… are you serious?”

Gyuvin’s hand closes around yours, prying it off of his mouth. “I’d f*cking love to hear the answer to that question as well, actually.”

“Well, I know it’s a large price to pay and might even be too much to ask in exchange for joining the Phantom Thieves,” you explain, glaring at Gyuvin as he slowly catches on. “Clearly, Jiwoong is shocked and disgusted by this proposition so—.”

“I am?” Jiwoong interrupts.

“Yes! Exactly! You are,” you agree enthusiastically, not realizing that Jiwoong’s statement had actually been a question. “So it seems like you aren’t going to be able to join the Phantom Thieves after all! Oh noooo! This is terrible news. But since you really don’t want to kiss me—.”

“Who said I don’t wanna kiss you, (Y/N)?” Jiwoong interrupts again, a dangerous smirk now turning up one corner of his lips. “Would be a lot more fun than listening to the two of you keep yapping.”

You’re silent, suddenly aware of the possibility you might be caught in your own trap. Jiwoong’s arms fold across his chest— one eyebrow arching smugly. Even though he had spent the better part of a year ignoring you and talking about you behind your back, you should’ve known that Jiwoong would somehow still be down to kiss you.

He’s down to kiss everyone. 

“In fact, the only one who said I don’t wanna kiss you, is you,” Jiwoong continues, taking a step towards you. “And how funny is it that you’re the one who suggested it in the first place? Maybe you’ve been thinking about kissing me this whole time.”

“That’s enough, hyung,” Gyuvin warns, large hand resting on Jiwoong’s shoulder. “We’ll just pick something else.”

As Gyuvin starts to turn you back around to discuss a different price, Jiwoong suddenly pipes up.

“W-wait! Wait. Just wait a minute,” he says, both hands extended in front of him. This is not the stance of someone with the upperhand. “You… you already picked the price! N-no take backs! Yeah, I said it. Get over here and kiss me, (Y/N).”

“I can do literally whatever I want to actually,” you respond with a shrug. “And now that you made fun of me, I’m gonna make the price MUCH worse now.”

“NO! No, (Y/N), please,” Jiwoong begs, closing the distance between you as he places his hands on both of your shoulders and shakes them. “Just let me kiss you! PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LET ME KISS YOU!”

You have to admit, it’s a pretty nice ego stroke to have Jiwoong desperate to kiss you. Not to mention, he does look a lot more handsome when he’s not esophagus-deep in a drunken bar hook-up. 

A lot more like himself, too.

You lean in. 

Closer.

Even closer.

And place the teensiest, tiniest peck on Jiwoong’s pretty, pink lips.

Your bond with Jiwoong has grown stronger. +1 Jiwoong Point. Please add +1 Jiwoong Point to your scoresheet.

“Oh my god,” Gyuvin says.

“Oh my god,” Jiwoong says.

“Oh my god,” you say.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“Remind me to apply for on-campus living next semester,” Yujin huffs with disgust, dropping his duffel bag in the middle of the hallway.

“Yujin-ah!” Gyuvin exclaims, you and Jiwoong jumping back to find your youngest member standing hollow-eyed at the floor. “How—… how long have you been standing there, buddy?”

Yujin shrugs. “I dunno, a minute or so.”

Sh*t. There’s literally no way he hadn’t just heard you speak. The three of you wait in silence for the youngest to comment on it.

“If you’re waiting for me to congratulate you about getting your voice back,” Yujin says, eyes glued to the floor, “I literally could not give a flying f*ck about it.”

You breathe a collective sigh of relief. Indifference was usually what you could expect from Yujin and, though it hurts you most of the time, you couldn’t be more grateful for it right now.

“So… you won’t tell anyone about it?” You request, smiling sweetly at your maknae.

“Whatever,” Yujin replies with a roll of his eyes. You’re fairly certain you can interpret this angsty teenager response to mean something like ‘okay’.

The door flies open, a panicked Hanbin scrambling through and into the hallway. “HOWDIDITGOWEREYOULATEAFTERTHEMEETINGWEREYOUTOOUPSETTOPERFORMWELLDIDYOUMAKEITINTOTHEPROGRAM?”

F*ck. Yujin’s audition was today. You instantly feel bad for forgetting.

Yujin shakes his head back and forth just once. So that’s why he was being extra mopey and aloof. He’d worked so hard. Poor thing.

You all sit in the awkward air until Hanbin finally says, “There’s beef marinating in the fridge. I’ll go cook it.”

“BEEF,” Gyuvin yells, pumping his fist up to the sky triumphantly. You grab his arm and force it back down to his side, trying your best to be mindful of Yujin’s feelings. It’s too little too late though and Yujin lets out a long sigh before walking off down the hallway to his room.

“Do you have kimchi?” Jiwoong calls as Hanbin traipses off to the kitchen. “I think you should check if there’s any kimchi left. Someone might have… eaten it for lunch… or something.”

“All of it!? I bought that big container two days ago,” Hanbin calls back. “You and Gyuvin go buy some then! (Y/N), can you come help me, please?”

You start to make your way to the kitchen, but a large hand on your shoulder stops you. Gyuvin’s lips are pressed together nervously as he blinks back at you. “Oh um, (Y/N)? There’s something I need to tell you before--.”

“C’mon! Whatever it is, it can wait. Kimchi can not,” Jiwoong hurries, grabbing Gyuvin and pulling your best friend out the door behind him.

“So, what happened at the company meeting today?” The robotic voice of your phone screenreader rings out, cutting through the sizzling of oil in the skillet pan. 

The piece of meat that Hanbin’s holding falls from his hand and splashes back into the bowl of bulgogi marinade. He fishes it back out without looking up at you, calmly replying, “Oh, it was just a regular meeting.”

You nod, aware that Hanbin’s lying to you but unsure as to why. You type again and hit play: “Why would Yujin have gotten ‘upset’ after ‘just a regular meeting’?”

Hanbin places another strip of beef into the skillet, turning up the heat. “Can you get more vegetable oil, please? There’s a new bottle in the hallway closet.”

You press your lips together, walking out of the kitchen and to the hallway closet. You open the door, locating the unopened bottle of oil on the third shelf when a series of buzzes in your pocket grabs your attention.

“(Y/N), can you hurry?” Hanbin calls from the kitchen. “I need to put more in now!”

Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz.

It seems urgent. And vaguely Canadian.

Mini-Decision: Would you rather be Hanbin’s Helper or reply to those Matt-sterious Texts?

If you chose "Hanbin's Helper", read below:

You shrug, deciding the texts will have to wait for this moment. If someone was dying, then maybe it was just their time.

Running back to the kitchen with the vegetable oil bottle, you toss it to Hanbin who lets out a little panicked yelp before catching it easily in one hand.

“Thank you, honey,” he says, cracking the seal on the bottle and pouring in a liberal amount of oil. “I can always count on you!”

Your bond with Hanbin has grown stronger. +1 Hanbin Point. Please add +1 Hanbin Point to your scoresheet.

You grin, standing next to Hanbin and resting your head on his shoulder. He chuckles at your rare display of affection.

You finally pull out your phone and read the urgent series of texts…

“Something did happen today,” Hanbin says softly, placing more beef into the pan. “At the meeting. I’m sure you could already tell.”

You nod, quietly watching the oil bubble around the meat.

“Gyubinnie didn’t say anything to you though?” He asks with a pout. “He always spills the beans to you. I wonder why he didn’t tell you yet.”

Maybe he was trying to, you think.

“But I’d imagine it’s the same reason that I don’t want to tell you,” Hanbin continues with a laugh. “The truth is, I never saw this coming, lovey. I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

You lock eyes with him, brow furrowed with concern as your face pleads for him to tell you.

Hanbin swallows, appearing nervous again. “I don’t want to be doing this unless it’s all of us. Together. It’s not right any other way.”

Your bond with Hanbin has grown stronger. +1 Hanbin Point. Please add +1 Hanbin Point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose "Matt-sterious Texts", read below:

Your fear of Hanbin’s scolding is strong, but your curiosity about the multiple buzzing texts in your pocket is undoubtedly stronger.

Pulling out your phone, you read the series of urgent texts…

Your bond with Matthew has grown stronger. +1 Matthew Point. Please add +1 Matthew Point to your scoresheet. 

What did Matt mean by that? Things might get even harder on me now?

“F*ck, the vegetable oil,” you whisper, grabbing the bottle and sprinting towards the kitchen. You stop dead in your tracks when you find Hanbin glaring at you, hand on his hip in the sassiest stance a man could possibly take.

You wince at him, sheepishly walking up to him and handing him the unopened bottle.

“Seriously? I had to turn the burner off,” he scolds as he takes the bottle, turning around and resuming his pan frying. “If you’re not going to be helpful, then just sit over there so you don’t keep f*cking things up.”

Hanbin could have a viper tongue when he was mad. Fortunately, he knew this about himself and he was already turning around to apologize as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t soon enough to keep a tear from rolling down your cheek. 

“Ohhhh, no,” Hanbin coos, pulling you in for a hug immediately and cradling your head to his chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean that.”

He holds you close to his side as he turns you both around so he can cook and dote on you simultaneously. “Are you okay, (Y/N)? Did something distract you earlier?”

You nod slowly into his shoulder, pulling out your phone and holding up the texts from Matthew so Hanbin can read them.

“Ahhh, I see,” he says, patting your head. “This would be pretty bothersome to read, huh?”

You gulp sadly, a little pout on your lips that Hanbin absolutely lights up at.

“I’ll bring Matthew’s papers to the company,” he assures quickly. “And I guess I should explain what’s going on to you, too. I really don’t want to be the bearer of tough news, but you deserve to know.”

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“What he’s trying to say is, we’re having a comeback,” Yujin announces unceremoniously as he sits down at the kitchen table. Hanbin turns around and glares at him but Yujin just shrugs. “What? You were gonna find out eventually that you’re getting left in the dust. So what if I don’t sugar coat it? You only have yourself to blame anyway.”

You’re not mad at him. You know he’s just extra angry tonight about his audition. Still, the news feels like a gut punch-- and you’ve been taking a lot of those lately. You feel a lump in your throat start to form, but the sudden question of why this was happening distracts you momentarily. 

President Kim couldn’t possibly think rehabilitating such a problematic group was a good investment of his money or time or reputation.

So what was he planning?

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Hanbin says, shaking his head. “I’m just as upset as you are.”

Yujin snorts. “Don’t oversell it.”

“Yujin-ah--,” Hanbin starts to scold when he’s interrupted by ecstatic shouting.

“Kimchi: SECURED,” Gyuvin announces excitedly as he and Jiwoong enter the dorm with a big container of kimchi from the shop down the street. 

“Ew, you’re so embarrassing,” Yujin says annoyedly as his eyes glue to his phone screen. “Just say you got the kimchi in a normal way.”

Gyuvin takes both of Yujin’s cheeks in one hand and squishes them emphatically. “I live to embarrass my only son.”

“Hello?” A voice suddenly calls from the front of the dorm. “Oh, it smells amazing in here.”

Manager Sang bumbles into the kitchen, a big envelope tucked under his arm. He’s wearing a corduroy button up, dress khakis and thick-framed black glasses— his Total Control Badge hanging from a lanyard around his neck.

He usually checks in on the dorm more often, but this is the first time you’ve seen Manager Sang this week. Except, of course, for the brief appearance of his likeness at King Hyunwoo’s palace last night. You eye him up and down curiously. 

“Hanbinnie’s cooking for you all again, I see,” he observes with a chuckle before scanning the room and fixing on Yujin.” “Yujinnie, I have some… paperwork for you.”

“Huh?” Yujin responds like a zombie, completely worn out from his week of exams and his failed audition. “Paperwork? Is it for next semester?”

“Yeah, uh, just,” Manager Sang stammers, placing the envelope on the table in front of your maknae. “Just some stuff we need you to sign.”

“I’m gonna start looking at class options tomorrow,” Yujin says, a bit of levity in his voice as he talks about continuing school. He picks up the envelope and begins ripping it open, excitement continuing to build in his voice. “Maybe it’s a good idea to get my academic requirements out of the way first anyway.”

The smile on his face fades slowly as he pulls out a large, stapled packet of what appear to be legal documents.

“This—… this is my contract with the company to pay for my university,” Yujin says confusedly. “Do I just have to sign to renew it for next semester or something?”

Manager Sang swallows hard, replying shakily, “Well… Not exactly…”  

Yujin starts to leaf through the pages of the contract, his brow furrowing with concern. “Why--... Why are a bunch of things circled in red Sharpie?”

“You see, um... President Kim heard from your university’s dance department that you did not pass your audition today,” Manager Sang explains nervously. “So we need to collect some signatures and the promised payment for failure to succeed. Including accrued interest, of course.”

“PAYMENT!?” Yujin shouts, standing up from his chair-- the speed at which he continues to flip the pages of the contract is growing alarming. No one moves a muscle as you wait for Manager Sang to fix the problem, like he always does.

“Y-yes, Yujinnie. Don’t you remember?” Manager Sang replies, a sweat beginning to break at his hairline. “If you failed to pass the audition for next semester, Total Control is no longer liable to pay for this past semester of your university studies.”

The contract falls from Yujin’s hands and onto the table. You take the opportunity to pick it up and rifle through it as Manager Sang continues to mumble on about clauses and fine-print.

You find it on the fourteenth page, a small-print section labeled and circled in red Sharpie: Proceedings for Failure to Succeed. 

A silence falls over the room. You’re almost afraid to look at Yujin— the energy radiating from him is absolutely white-hot. 

“You told me to sign this,” Yujin says finally through gritted teeth. Jabbing a finger right at the middle of Manager Sang’s chest, he accuses, “You read the fine-print for me and you told me it was safe to sign.”

ZeroBaseOne had once been so popular that you’d had too many managers and staff to keep track of. Manager Sang had been with you since pre-debut, though, and the members favored him because of the bond that was shared. In recent years, President Kim had also begun to favor Manager Sang and promoted him to Head Manager. When ZB1 and Total Control effectively collapsed, Manager Sang was the only manager who remained at the dying company.

You’re suddenly faced with another question of ‘why’.

“I’m sorry you’re so upset,” Manager Sang swallows, stepping backward out of Yujin’s range of motion. “You should always read a contract yourself, Yujinnie. Maybe this can be a lesson for you. In the meantime, the payment is due by Monday.”

Manager Sang rushes out of the dorm and Yujin runs after him. 

“Go get him and calm him down,” Hanbin orders the three of you, keeping his hands on the skillet handle and spatula to keep from tearing his hair out. “Now!”

You, Jiwoong and Gyuvin clamber out of the kitchen towards the front door— your hands grabbing the hem of Yujin’s t-shirt just before he escapes into the cool, night air.

He’s screaming, kicking, crying and the force of his despair knocks you both down to the floor. Jiwoong locks the front door as Yujin collapses onto you.

“It’s not fair,” he cries and you just smother him into you more— Gyuvin and Jiwoong wrapping themselves around him so that he’s contained on all sides. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” you agree, knowing all too well the gut wrenching pain of your f*cked up company betraying you. “It’s not fair at all.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Yujinnie,” Gyuvin soothes, rubbing his back. “It’s all gonna work out.”

“I want to go,” Yujin begs— not you or Gyuvin or Jiwoong, but the universe. He’s not speaking entirely intelligibly, but you know he means he just wants to keep going to school. “I can’t pay that money-- I can’t pay it so I can’t go anymore and I JUST WANT TO GO!”

“COMMAND HEARD: GO. COMMAND ACCEPTED. DESTINATION: METAVERSE. HAVE A NICE TRIP!”

“She really just does whatever she wants, huh?” Gyuvin wonders, shaking his head.

“What!?” Jiwoong shouts as that familiar red haze fills the air. “I thought the Metaverse was that castle at Total Control? That’s what Gyuvin said while we were at the market just now!”

“I—… thought so, too,” you say, watching as your dorm transforms into a cold, damp stone labyrinth. It’s dark; the only light coming from wooden torches hung on the walls of rock every few feet. Haunting screams and cries echo and ricochet down the hallway.

“Oh good,” Yujin says as he sits up, wiping his eyes and nose and looking around at his new surroundings. “I’m dead.”

“I…” You start to reply, marveling at what you can only assume to be the Metaverse version of your dorm. “I wouldn’t count on that just yet.”

Yujin throws his arms up exasperatedly. “Well, sh*t! Can someone put me out of my misery already?”

“(Y/N), this… this looks like some sort of prison,” Jiwoong whispers, palm up-turned towards the dark, stone ceiling above— a drop of murky water splashing onto his skin.

“Sounds like one, too,” Gyuvin snorts despite the chilled expression on his face giving him away. 

“Okay, but for real,” Yujin pipes up behind you, the slightest bit of worry starting to creep into his voice. “Did I pass out or, like… get sick or something?”

“Yeah,” you reply absentmindedly, a million different questions running through your own head. Yujin starts to wander off a bit and your hand shoots out to grab his wrist— keeping him safely glued to your side. “Or something.”

“Hey, let me go,” Yujin huffs, trying to free himself from your grasp. “This is my dream, isn’t it?”

You look at your angry maknae, finding red, puffy eyes and a still-quivering lip from the grief he’d just suffered.

Not a chance in hell that you’re letting him go. He’ll thank you one day.

“F*cking let go, (Y/N),” he shouts, gripping your forearm with his free hand and twisting. “Even in my subconscious, you’re such a d*ck!”

But that day is not today.

“WHO DARES TO TRESPASS IN THE ROYAL DUNGEON!?” A shadow guard’s voice bellows down the hallway that, in real life, leads to Yujin and Hanbin’s bedrooms. 

“Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t,” Gyuvin says, pushing Jiwoong down with him to hide in a crevice in the stone wall. There’s another crevice of a similar size a bit farther away which you dart towards, using all your effort to pull a reluctant Yujin to safety with you.

“Owww,” Yujin whines as you shove him out of sight of the shadow guard bumbling down the hallway. You squish his lips together with your free hand, eyes begging him to be quiet. It’s easy to see the message isn’t registering. Instead, you watch in slow motion as Yujin’s pointer finger rises from his side and goes straight into your left ear.

He grins triumphantly as you jump back and, in your discomfort, let go of Yujin’s wrist. He runs out of the cove in the wall and straight into the path of the shadow guard. Gyuvin catches your eye from across the dark hallway-- fear apparent as he looks to you for a new game plan.

“Whoah, this looks SO real,” Yujin marvels as the shadow guard breaks out in a sprint towards him. You gasp in horror as the giant figure crashes into Yujin, knocking him to the ground-- the back of his head hitting the cold stone beneath him. He sits up shakily, rubbing the back of his head and then bringing his hand towards his face. 

The rich, red sheen of blood dripping from his fingers makes your heart sink to your stomach. 

“This... feels so real, too, actually,” Yujin says dazedly as the shadow guard pulls him to his knees by the collar of his shirt. “(Y/N)...? (Y/N), I think I need h--....”

Your gaze fixes back on Gyuvin as you make a fist at him, signaling it's time for an all-out attack. He nods, tapping Jiwoong beside him to get ready. You hold up three fingers, then two, one...

You take the first attack. A gust of wind flies from your palm, but unlike the shadow guards you’d encountered before, this one doesn’t fall to the ground. Instead, it merely teeters before righting itself and turning to face you. 

Gyuvin releases a blast of ice next, icicles flying through the air and tearing a hole through the shadow guard’s chest. It’s clear the wound is serious as the guard loses his grip on Yujin, the youngest boy collapsing limply to the ground again. 

But much to your horror, the wound in the shadow’s chest begins to mend itself-- the black vapors inside of him growing thicker and thicker by the second.

“Jiwoong-ah, NOW!” You shout as a series of fireballs fly towards the shadow. They rip three separate holes in the guard’s form, finally knocking him backwards. But it’s not enough to vanquish the shadow guard. You need more power and, as the shadow guard’s wounds begin to heal again, you need it fast.

~I think it’s time we acquired a new skill. What do you say, my friend?~

“I think your timing is impeccable, Arsène,” you praise, closing your eyes as you feel a new source of power surge through you. You extend your arms, an immeasurable amount of flower petals flying from your palms and attaching to the shadow guard. 

New Skill Unlocked: In Bloom ˚❀༉‧₊

The guard sinks to the ground as he’s buried alive in flower petals and you run to Yujin, who’s staring wide-eyed up at you— one hand still cradling the wound on his head. 

“Yujin-ah,” Gyuvin calls  as he and Jiwoong land next to you. “Are you okay? Are you dizzy?”

Yujin shakes his head innocently. “N-no…”

“Which question was that an answer to?” Jiwoong asks, brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m okay, I think,” Yujin responds. You gently detach his hand from the back of his head and bring it toward you in the dim light, finding more fresh blood on his fingers. He looks up at you, much more scared than before. “What’s happening?”

You take his blood-stained hand and pull him to his feet. “You’re going to be okay, Yujinnie. I promise.”

“But—,” Yujin starts to protest as Gyuvin interrupts him.

“I think we should take a look around, (Y/N),” your right-hand man suggests, wrapping an arm supportively around the youngest’s shoulders. He gestures to the incapacitated guard on the ground, “Ya know, while we have the chance?”

You nod decisively. “I think you’re right, Binnie. Let’s tread carefully— stay behind me.”

You take a deep breath as you follow the direction of the loudest screams: they’re coming from where Yujin’s room is. As you approach, you find metal prison bars running vertically in the cement doorway, revealing a Metaverse version of your maknae. He’s wearing matching dark grey and white striped shirt and pants, hunched over a grey, sleight desk as the sound of furious pencil scribbles echo off the damp walls. 

“Is that--... Is that me?” Yujin whispers, pushing you aside so he can get a better look. “Why the hell am I a prisoner!?”

“I think each one of us has a cell just like this,” you say, looking at Gyuvin and Jiwoong. “It might be a reflection of how President Kim sees us: his prisoners.”

Metaverse Yujin puts his pencil down, picking up the finished document in his hand and looking it over. He slides it to the side of the desk, but, as soon as he does, the paper disappears. Metaverse Yujin screams in frustration, slamming his fists on the desk as he grabs another sheet of paper from the pile and continues his maniacal pencil scribbling. 

“To think we’re all serving time for crimes that President Kim committed,” Jiwoong shudders, shaking his head in disgust. 

“I’d say it’s a pretty good reflection of our reality,” Gyuvin says, looking at you sadly. “It only makes sense our dorm is King Hyunwoo’s dungeon.”

“Hold on. Did you just say President Kim’s crimes?” Yujin asks, a confused frown on his face. “And… King Hyunwoo?”

You watch as Metaverse Yujin has another episode of hysterics. If President Kim thinks Yujin is suffering this much... It’s because he’s personally made sure that he is.

“Yujin-ah!” Yujin calls, knocking on the metal bars with his knuckles. “Over here!”

Metaverse Yujin’s head snaps around, locking eyes with his real-life counterpart. He stands up from his desk-- a wild, frantic look in his eyes as he runs to the metal-barred doorway. Yujin jumps back as the Metaverse Yujin’s bleeding knuckles wrap around the bars, shaking them desperately. “Make it stop! Please, make it f*cking stop!”

“What happened to you, Yujinnie?” Jiwoong asks, eyeing the young prisoner with a concern you hadn’t seen from him in a long time. “Why are you being held captive like this?”

“You don’t have much time,” Metaverse Yujin whispers, trembling as he peers down the hallway. “He’s coming back. I can’t be punished again. I CAN’T!”

“Ssssh, Yujinnie. It’s gonna be okay,” Gyuvin soothes, placing a hand on top of the prisoner’s. “We’re gonna get you out of here!”

Metaverse Yujinnie sinks to the ground in despair. “You can’t... I can’t...”

“But... I can,” Yujin whispers. You look over at him to see that he’s crying again, but this time his tears are different. They’re not helpless. They’re defiant. “I can get you out of here. I can make President Kim pay for what he’s done to you. I... I can make sure I never have to feel like this ever again.”

“Yujin-sshi,” an ominous voice echoes down the hall. Your body tenses and you grab Yujin by the shoulders, shoving him behind you to shield him. “Are you working hard, Yujin-sshi? Are you making something of yourself yet?”

As the figure comes into focus, your lips part in shock. “Manager Sang?”

“You think you can escape the fate that King Hyunwoo chose for you, Yujin-sshi?” Manager Sang mocks as he draws closer. His chest is bound in chains-- a giant lock at the front. “What about you, (Y/N)-sshi? Do you really dare to climb out of the grave you’ve been hiding in this year? Trying to protect your youngest member when it was your carelessness that killed his future in the first place...”

“You--... you’re in on this?” Gyuvin asks, disgusted at the man who’d taken care of you the most throughout your careers. “You were on President Kim’s side this whole time!? How long have you been selling us out for?”

“Since the day I made... the choice. When the King asked me to wrap (Y/N)-sshi’s hands around the wheel that night while he fled the scene, I made the choice,” Manager Sang announces, eyes glowing red. “The choice to call the paparazzi when Jiwoong-sshi’s out at night. The choice to deliver the bribe checks to the media when Gyuvin-sshi schedules another meeting. And the choice to convince the youngest member to sign a contract.”

It’s only now you realize that someone’s hand is gripping into your upper arm, nails digging into your skin. You turn to your right, ready to pry them off before you remember who you’d placed behind you to shield them. 

“President Kim knew you would fail, Yujin-sshi,” Manager Sang continues. “Everyone at the company knew you would fail. That’s the only reason the investment was approved in the first place.”

Yujin’s fingers have turned white with how hard they’re gripping you, but the look in his eyes makes you hesitant to interrupt him-- no matter how painful it is for you. He’s panting heavily in an attempt to catch his breath and, before you know it, he’s started screaming.

“(Y/N)...” Gyuvin says softly, his gaze falling to your arm. A stream of blood has begun trickling down your arm past Yujin’s fingers. 

You shake your head. You’ll just have to power through it.

“And, just on the off chance that you really wouldn’t fail, President Kim asked me to help take some measures to ensure that you did,” Manager Sang says with a satisfied smile. “President Kim needed my help. He always needs my help. So, I asked you for your schedule at the beginning of the week: how else would Total Control have known to plan such a bombshell of a meeting for ZeroBaseOne just minutes before your audition, Yujin-sshi?”

“SHUT UP!” Yujin shouts behind you. His hand finally leaves your arm, starting to hit the concrete wall next to him with his fists. “EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!”

NO CAN DO, FINE SIR. THERE’S SOMETHING I MUST MAKE YOU PRIVY TO: I AM ZORRO, MASKED SWORDSMAN AND YOUR NEW PARTNER IN THIS QUEST FOR JUSTICE.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?” Yujin shouts, crouching down to the ground-- trying to find any semblance of reality he can.                          

THOUGH THE BURDEN OF GREAT PURPOSE IS A MIGHTY ONE, WE WILL BEAR THE WEIGHT TOGETHER. IT’S TIME TO TAKE BACK YOUR LIFE... COMMENCE THE FIGHT!

Jiwoong gasps as a mask begins to form on Yujin’s face-- the material fusing with his skin as it has each time before. You wish your youngest member didn’t have to feel this pain or join the dangerous fight you accidentally stumbled into this week.  It had always been your instinct to continue to protect him, no matter how much he resented you.

SSchrip...

New Confidant Unlocked: Magician *ੈ Han Yujin

But after seeing him promise Metaverse Yujin to stop the pain he’s been feeling, you know for sure that Yujin has grown into the man you’d all hoped he would. He didn’t need to be shielded from the truth. In fact, he might be crucial in helping you expose it.

Yujin is still doubled over, a new mask resting across his eyes. You can’t help but smile when you see the bunny ears on each side.

“If you’re all done messing around,” Manager Sang suddenly says behind you, “I’d like to kill you so I can collect my check.”

Jiwoong steps forward, raising his hand as he prepares to throw a fireball, but something restrains his arm before he can. Yujin smirks, releasing Jiwoong’s hand from his grip.

Step aside, Hyung... I'll handle this. ‧ ₊ ✫ ˚・

Jiwoong makes room for Yujin at the front, folding his arms across his chest with a laugh. “Less work for me.”

New Skill Unlocked: Hyung Card ೀ

When Yujin takes center, you’re confused when he doesn’t raise his hands in the direction of Manager Sang like you, Gyuvin and Jiwoong usually do to use your powers. Instead, he brings them together, fingers loosely interlacing as his palms meet. He stares at his thumbs, then up at Manager Sang without blinking.

“Oh sh*t,” Gyuvin says with a grin as a strange, purple fog forms above Yujin and slowly engulfs Manager Sang. Yujin finally blinks and the cloud lets up, revealing your manager writhing on the ground in a confused and panicked state.

“Too cute,” Manager Sang whispers over and over, hands covering his eyes. “He’s just too cute. Too cute. TOO CUTE!”

“Wait, WHAT!?” Yujin shouts, stamping his foot. “Did I just brainwash him with... cuteness!?”

New Skill Unlocked: Super Aegyo ₊˚⊹♡

The three of you very poorly stifle your laughter as Yujin turns around to glare at you. His mask now has glowing pink cheeks and little heart-shaped bubbles flying from the eye holes. You have to look away from all the cuteness before it brainwashes you, too.

“Oh, COME ON!” Yujin yells with a pout. “I’m not cute! I’m not a baby! You saw how fast I took him down!”

“You can sulk about it later, Yujinnie,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and turning him back around. “How about you finish this?”

“Really?” Yujin asks, brow raised in surprise. “You think I can?”

“I know you can,” you respond with a smile. “And I know you’re upset with your power, but the truth is... I think it might be the strongest one yet.”

He smiles back at you. “Thanks.”

Bringing his palms together again and focusing his eyes on Manager Sang, another cloud of purple fog swallows up your manager until a soft plea can be heard from within it.

“Please, please stop,” Manager Sang begs as Yujin blinks away the fog. “I--... I can’t do this anymore. I... I surrender.”

You approach him cautiously, Gyuvin, Yujin and Jiwoong following suit. “You... surrender?”

“Yes, I--... I can change! I’ve worked for King Hyunwoo... President Kim... for so long. I remember when you all were just kids still waiting to debut,” he says, a soft, reminiscent smile forming on his lips. “I knew you’d be successful. I knew it from the moment you stepped on stage at your first FanCon. None of the groups before you at Total Control ever had enough support to have a FanCon. But you did within just three months.”

“Then why have you been doing this?” Gyuvin asks, distrust still palpable in his voice. “Playing President Kim’s lackey?”

“Last year. After... everything happened,” Manager Sang says with a regretful sigh. “I handed in my resignation letter. But my wife had just had a baby that same month and... our baby was very ill when she was born. President Kim promised to give me a raise if I continued working and reported all of your information back to him. For many reasons, I couldn’t say no.”

“But we trusted you,” Jiwoong says quietly. “We trusted you and you... You’ve just been helping President Kim hurt us? You could’ve done the right thing at any point this year. Can you really sleep at night knowing the harm you’ve caused?”

“I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,” Manager Sang answers after a long moment. “After my involvement with staging the crime scene, I was at the mercy of President Kim. If I hadn’t done that... I truly wish I hadn’t played along for once. I’m sorry for the harm I’ve caused you, (Y/N)-sshi. I’m sorry for the harm I’ve continued to cause you all.”

You nod solemnly. “I wish you could tell the truth now in the real world. But I don’t see how that would be possible.”

“M-maybe... I--... C-can...” Manager Sang’s voice becomes choppy, his form appearing to glitch. He continues to glitch in and out until finally fading away. 

Gyuvin runs his hand through the space which was previously occupied by Manager Sang, finding only air in his place. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m not sure,” you say, brow furrowing as you think of the implications of the events that just unfolded. Had Metaverse Manager Sang been a projection of President Kim’s cognition like everything else in the Metaverse has been... Or was it Manager Sang’s own cognition that had apologized to them just now? “I think we need to--.”

Thud.

“Yujin-ah!” Jiwoong shouts as your youngest topples over onto the cold, damp cement. You reach your hand out, shielding Yujin’s head from taking any more damage tonight. 

“Yujin-ah,” you call, the three of you moving him into a more comfortable position. “Can you hear me? We’re going home now, okay?”

As soon as you say the words, the red haze around you begins to dissipate. The dark prison walls turn plastered and beige again-- the doors to each of your rooms reappearing in the place of the vertical metal bars. 

“WE DO AWAIT YOUR HASTY RETURN. PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT ANY INJURY SUSTAINED IN THE METAVERSE MAY CARRY OVER INTO THE REAL WORLD. TAKE CARE OF YOUR HEALTH.”

“Is--... Is she watching us?” Gyuvin asks with a frown.

“Everything okay out there guys?” 

Fuck. You totally forgot Hanbin was still in the kitchen. 

“We need to get Yujin to his room right now,” you urge, looking at your youngest member sprawled out on the floor of the foyer. 

Both Gyuvin and Jiwoong conveniently avoid your gaze…

Mini-Decision: Someone’s gotta carry Yujin. Will you say “Ugh, Fine” or “Woongie SO Strong”? ~

Author’s Note: PLEASE only choose “ugh, fine” if you are Yujin’s real age/a minor! Obviously Yujin is 18 in this fic, but that’s just for story purposes. ONLY MINORS choose this option if you’d like to unlock Yujin’s ending at the end! This choice has a hint of romance so a reminder that this fic isn’t real, Yujin is just a character in this story, the romance is all age appropriate and JUST FICTION. Thank you for being respectful and kind!

If you chose “Ugh, Fine”, read below:

With a heavy sigh, you grab Yujin’s left arm and point to Jiwoong to grab the other one. Gyuvin supports him and, together they lift Yujin onto your back. “Stay here and distract Hanbinnie,” you whisper, rushing down the hall as fast as you can and into Yujin’s room.

“We’re... Um...” You hear Gyuvin call to Hanbin in the kitchen, “Changing! Yeah. We’re just changing.”

“Oh for f*ck’s sake,” Jiwoong mutters.

“... In the hallway?” Hanbin responds confusedly, footsteps pattering towards the foyer as you lock the door behind you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as you were before.”

“I meant metaphorically,” Gyuvin clarifies with a nervous laugh. What follows is a loud smack and a mumbled, “Ow.”

You sit down on the edge of Yujin’s bed, unwrapping his arms from around your neck and situating him so that he’s propped up on his pillows. He looks so peaceful resting like this and you wish you could just let him sleep, but you need to wake him up to check if he has a concussion first.

“Yujin-ah,” you say softly, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. His lashes start to flutter against his cheeks until they’re staring up at you. He sits up quickly-- too quickly and you gently nudge him back down to a reclined position. “Don’t move too fast. You’ll get dizzy. How do you feel?”

“Was it real?” He asks excitedly, stars in his eyes. “The dungeon? The magic powers? Manager Sang?”

You press your lips together, conflicted. You could still tell Yujin it wasn’t real. That he hit his head running to the door and must’ve had a crazy dream. That everything was the way it had always been. That he could go back to passively disliking you and maybe working out a new deal with President Kim and Manager Sang. That he won’t get hurt again...

“Yeah,” you admit finally. “It was all real.”

“I knew it,” Yujin says with a grin, folding his arms across his chest satisfactorily. “I knew you wouldn’t lie to me. You need my help, obviously”

You smile back at him. “I do need your help actually. But, more importantly, you need your help.”

Yujin’s smile fades as he looks down at his lap. He doesn’t say anything, but his silence alone confirms the truth.

“I’m so sorry, Yujinnie,” you say, placing a hand on his wrist. “I wish you didn’t have to go through any of this. I wish we all could’ve stayed as happy as we always were forever. I’d do anything to go back and change it. Maybe now I can finally make things right... and with you by my side again.”

Much to your surprise, your typically sarcastic and affection-avoidant maknae places his hand on top of yours. “It’s not your fault, (Y/N). I didn’t know that before. But I do now.”

“Oh, it’s really okay--.”

“It’s not,” Yujin cuts you off. He’s clearly a bit uncomfortable with the sincerity he’s having to display, but you appreciate it nonetheless. “And I’m sorry.”

“That actually means a lot to me,” you say with a smile, which Yujin happily returns. “I missed talking to you, kiddo.”

“Oh come on! We’re almost the exact same age. I’m NOT a kiddo,” he corrects with a groan. He then looks at his lap, a little blush on his cheeks. “And I’ll prove it to you.”

Your bond with Yujin has grown stronger. +1 Yujin Point. Please add +1 Yujin Point to your scoresheet.

“(Y/N), open the door,” Gyuvin whisper-yells as he jiggles the doorknob. You rush over to the door, Jiwoong and Gyuvin almost knocking you over as they barge inside.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose "Woongie SO Strong", read below:

“Oh my goodness,” you coo quietly, grabbing Jiwoong’s right bicep and squeezing. “I didn’t realize how big your arms were!”

“Wh—… What?” Jiwoong stammers as you continue to feel up his arm. “Me?”

“Woongie soooooo strong,” you sing-song, batting your eyelashes at him for full effect. 

Unfortunately for Jiwoong, you know exactly how to play to his weakness and his chest begins to puff at your flattering. “I— I guess, yeah. Yeah! I kind of totally am actually.”

Gyuvin snorts, turning away from you to keep from ruining your evil plot.

“So stroooong and SO handsome,” you add, just to knock it out of the park.

“I’ve heard this a lot in my lifetime actually, but,” Jiwoong replies, one eyebrow piquing at you charismatically, “I never thought I’d hear it from you. Maybe we could talk more about how handsome and strong you think I am over coffee or—.”

“—SO strong you could carry a full-sized Yujin!” You finish. Trap successful.

Jiwoong’s previously seductive expression turns quickly to disappointment. “Aw,” he grumbles, removing his arm from your grasp. “I thought you’d finally seen the light.”

“The light being…?” Gyuvin asks, patting Jiwoong’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Me,” Jiwoong answers, brushing Gyuvin’s hand off and fixing his shirt; trying to re-establish his dignity. “I thought you’d finally seen me.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at the sincerity of his last sentence. Jiwoong is surprised by it too and he coughs awkwardly to distract from it. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it,” Jiwoong relents, stooping down and picking up Yujin all by himself.

“Holy sh*t, you actually are kind of strong,” you marvel a bit at his unexpected strength. 

Jiwoong shrugs as he carries Yujin down the hall to his room. “I know. Blew your chance though.”

Your bond with Jiwoong has grown stronger. +1 Jiwoong Point. Please add +1 Jiwoong Point to your scoresheet.

As Jiwoong shuts Yujin’s door behind him, you look up at Gyuvin confusedly and whisper, “He’s just joking around, right?”

“Kids, what’re you doing out there?” Hanbin asks as you hear the oil in the skillet slowly stop sizzling. Entering the hallway, his brow furrows as he looks around. “Where’d Yujinnie go? Didn’t I tell you to calm him down?”

“We did,” Gyuvin answers quickly. “In fact, we got him so calm that he’s now unconscious.”

Hanbin’s eyes bulge at this. “Excuse me!?” 

You sigh, looking up at the ceiling and shaking your head. You should’ve made Gyuvin carry Yujin instead.

“I mean, he’s just taking a nap,” Gyuvin thankfully corrects his previous blunder.

“But—… I just finished dinner,” Hanbin responds sadly. With a sigh, he continues, “I understand though. It’s been a hard day for him. You guys’ll still eat, right?”

“Of course!” Gyuvin exclaims as you nod enthusiastically beside him. “Um, could you just give us a couple minutes though?”

“Oh, uh… Sure,” Hanbin agrees confusedly. “Why?”

“I have to… Give… (Y/N)… something,” Gyuvin improvs absolutely seamlessly. “Yeah, I have to give (Y/N) something now or else I’ll forget to do it later! We’ll be riiiiight back.”

“Oookaaay,” Hanbin says with a sigh as you and Gyuvin run suspiciously down the hall. “I’ll just bring a bowl to Gunwook in the meantime, I guess.”

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

JUNE 21st -- NIGHT

After eventually scarfing down beef bulgogi like it's your occupation, the four members of the Phantom Thieves sit on Yujin’s bed-- gathered around your youngest member like he’s the baby Jesus in his manger. It’s a bit of a funny sight.

“Are you sure you're alright, Yujinnie?” Gyuvin asks, turning Yujin’s head so he can see the back of it. “It’s healed a lot. And you can’t even see the indents on (Y/N)’s arm anymore… But still. That was way too close of a call.”

“Way too close,” you agree, bottom lip tucking between your teeth in thought. “If injuries we get in the Metaverse can carry over to the real world… What if we had a way to heal them while we were still in there?”

“You mean, like, medicine and bandages and stuff? Can you bring real world objects into the Metaverse like that?” Jiwoong asks.

“I don’t see why not,” you reply, tilting your head to the side as you consider it. “We’re able to bring our phones in with us. Maybe anything that’s in our hands or pockets is fair game. I think we need to stock up on whatever we can get.”

“So… what happens now?” Yujin asks and it’s a very good question. “We’re—… We’re gonna take down President Kim? Through the… Metaverse, or whatever? How do we even do that?”

“I don’t really know yet,” you admit honestly. “But I think we’re getting closer to finding the answer. All thanks to the newest member of the Phantom Thieves!”

A reluctant smile turns up one corner of Yujin’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I guess I had to do one thing well tonight.”

“We’ll fix that, too,” you say and you mean it. “We’ll get you back in school and we’ll get all your debt paid, okay? Everyone’s debt will get paid.”

“We’re gonna need to plant some money trees, then,” Gyuvin says, scratching the back of his neck. “We can’t stockpile meds and first aid sh*t and then pay Yujinnie’s university debt on our own. Jiwoong hyung’s in the negative over there after last night.”

“Hey, I have a little bit of money left,” Jiwoong says, pulling out his wallet and opening it. It’s completely empty. “F*ck, did I lose my ID too?”

“Gyubinnie’s right,” Yujin says with a nod. “We need money. And as the news and best member of the Phantom Thieves, I’m about to make a suggestion that no one will like…”

“No…” You whisper.

“You can’t mean,” Gyuvin whispers.

“I think we should try to get Ricky hyung on board,” Yujin says definitively; a chorus of groans echoing into the air. “I mean, do you guys have any better ideas for quick cash?”

“But Ricky hates me,” you whine, leaning your forehead on Jiwoong’s shoulder.

“To be fair, everyone basically hates you,” Yujin says with a shrug. Curse your savage maknae. “But, once they know the truth, they won’t anymore. Probably. Ricky included. Probably.”

You sigh defeatedly. “I guess if there’s really no better option… It’s settled. We’ll go talk to Ricky at his Club Jeune Et Riche on Friday.”

“Oooh,” Jiwoong hums, shaking his head. “No can do. We’ll be at the company.”

Gyuvin smacks Jiwoong so hard, he goes flying backward off the bed. “If you don’t shut your mouth--.”

“I already know about that actually,” you say, chewing your cheek. “Courtesy of our smart-mouthed maknae.”

Yujin smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Again.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Gyuvin says, looking at you shamefully. “I wanted you to hear it from me, but I... Guess I fumbled the bag.”

You’re not mad at Gyuvin either. Or any of your members (except Hao-- you’re always mad at Hao). You just feel sad. And left out. And hurt. And happy that maybe you didn’t ruin their lives completely. And okay, maybe a bit mad.

But a leader must trudge on.

“It’s okay. I’ll go talk to Ricky on Friday by myself then,” you announce, biting your lip. “I just can’t imagine he’d even give me the time of day...”

Jiwoong clears his throat awkwardly, climbing back up onto Yujin’s bed. “Well, what if he didn’t know it was you he was talking to?”

You raise an eyebrow at him curiously. “What are you suggesting?”

“What if... American heiress and art collector, Rebecca Song, paid him a visit instead?” Jiwoong suggests with a grin.

“Who’s Rebecca Song?” Gyuvin asks confusedly. “Or... is that the--... That’s the point, isn’t it? Okay, I get it now.”

“Some acting work for (Y/N)? Don’t you have the lowest rated web drama of all time or something?” Yujin muses, smiling evilly as he considers it. “Make sure you film it.”

It’s not a bad suggestion though. You like to think you’ve gotten better at acting since your web drama fiasco in 2019 (a romantic comedy set in a post-apocalyptic world overrun by clowns instead of zombies), but you have no proof of that. Still, Ricky could very well slam the door at just the sight of your face...

What do you wanna do, Player?

⁺⋆✰ Chapter Choice ✰⋆⁺

It's your decision, Player. Will you visit Ricky as...

CHOICE 1: Yourself

OR

CHOICE 2: Rebecca Song: Esteemed Foreign Art Collector

Jiwoong had always enjoyed his fair share of alcohol, but during this past year he’d consumed far more than what was fair. Jiwoong shrugs it off now like he does each time. Life isn’t fair. The world isn’t fair. Why should he be?

So he takes another shot. And another. And another... Until he loses count. But if Jiwoong could be honest with himself for once, he’d concede he had no intention of keeping count from the start.

When he finds his lips eventually attached to another pair, he’s not surprised. Just disappointed. A deep, self-loathing ache that he silences by shoving his tongue further down the indiscernible stranger’s throat. And then he’s not so disappointed anymore.

Jiwoong suddenly notices a distinct absence of noise, pulling back to realize he’s transported outside. His right hand caresses the exterior brick of the bar, his other hand is wraps around the belly-chain adorned waist of a blonde person. He can’t really make out any features of their face, but he doesn’t really care to.

He’s pulled in again, lips meeting the impossibly glossy ones he’s been exploring for who knows how long. Cars zip by the alleyway, but Jiwoong is tucked safely out of view thanks to the darkness of the earliest hours of the morning. And also a giant dumpster.

Fitting, Jiwoong thinks.

“I can’t believe you,” a voice echoes down the alleyway from the street, catching Jiwoong’s attention. 

Let's find out the effects of your Chapter Choice for Part Two, Player! To refresh your memory, Choice 1 was to Get Food while Choice 2 was to Go To Karaoke.

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “GET FOOD”:

“You ate ALL of my bao buns,” Gyuvin complains with a pout. “I didn’t even get to have one!”

You shrug. “You snooze, you lose.”

“You stuffed all three in your mouth as soon as the plate hit the table,” your best friend replies, kicking the cement of the sidewalk as you stroll down the dimly lit street.

“Sorry,” you mumble in apology. “I was just really hungry. I hadn’t eaten since before probation work this morning.”

Gyuvin’s eyes widen at this before his brow furrows sadly. “You really know how to make me feel bad, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t trying to—.”

“Should I pack you a lunch from now on? Hm?” He interrupts, hands flying about dramatically. “That’s too long for you to go without eating, especially under the hot sun.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Am I speaking to the right Binnie? Did you switch brains Freaky Friday style or something?”

“I’ll have you know I worry about you just as much as Hanbinnie hyung does,” Gyuvin retorts, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I just suppress the urge to nag you better. I know you won’t listen anyway.”

“see, hat’s why you’re my best friend,” you conclude with a smile. “You let me f*ck up even when it kills you to watch.”

“Do you do the same for me?” He asks, looking up at the night sky.

“Every time I let you wear down another reporter,” you answer honestly, “it’s another dagger to the heart. You know how much I wish they cared. But I care about you more.”

“Did we become pine trees overnight? The sap’s been just pouring out of us lately,” Gyuvin jokes, rolling his eyes. “I was actually thinking yesterday that maybe you were right about that. Maybe I should just give it up like everyone else already has.”

“But today?” You prompt knowingly.

“Today I’ve realized that even if I’m the only one trapped in your corner forever” he replies with a laugh, “I don’t want out. And I don’t think I ever will.”

“You know, you have really resembled a pine tree lately now that I think of it,” you observe with a smile. “You’re already so tall, I guess the needles and the branches didn’t look that out of place.”

“Can you believe they let two trees into a restaurant?” 

“As long as they’re buying something,” you say with a shrug.

Gyuvin hums, blinking at you. “But you’ll sing with me soon, right? I really miss it.”

After a moment, you nod. “Yeah. I miss it, too. I guess I’m just... not quite there yet.”

“That’s okay,” Gyuvin says, nudging you with his elbow as you continue down the street. “Whenever you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

You probably have more to explain to Gyuvin-- the feelings you’ve felt over the past year are more complicated than could possibly be understood by someone who hasn't experienced them for themselves. But Gyuvin doesn’t ask for an explanation. 

He just let’s you f*ck up... even when it kills him to watch.

“When I do sing again,” you say, moonlight illuminating your eyes. “I really want it to be with you.”

“I'd like that.”

Your bond has grown stronger with Gyuvin. +1 Gyuvin Point. Please add +1 Gyuvin Point to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “GO TO KARAOKE”:

“You haven’t been able to use your voice for an entire year and the first song you choose to sing is Ring Ding Dong?” Gyuvin asks, his voice dripping with judgment.

“Hey, cool it with the disrespect on a literal classic,” you reply with a huff. “Besides, you said you needed a distraction. I thought singing something a little silly would help!”

“Ugh,” Gyuvin sighs dramatically. “I guess it did, yeah. You knew all the words and everything. You didn’t even need to look at the screen!”

You shrug, smirking up at him. “What can I say? I’ve still got it.”

“I know you meant that as a joke, but it’s true,” he replies, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I can’t tell you how happy it made me to sing with you again. I want to keep singing with you for as long as possible.”

“You’ve been such a sap the past twenty-four hours,” you tease, knocking into him gently with your hip. “Seriously, I missed singing with you, too. To be honest, I was really scared to sing again. When I lost my voice, I’d make deals at night with the universe: everything I have in exchange for the ability to sing again. Still, I worried that if I ever was able to sing again, would it feel the way it used to? Would it hurt even more to have my voice back and still be unwelcome in my own group? But... Singing with you tonight was easy. You’ve made everything easier for me this year. I guess this is my sh*tty, impromptu attempt at thanking you.”

Gyuvin blinks back at you, eyes wide and doe-like. “F*ck. And you think I’m the one being too sentimental?” 

“Okay, I take it back,” you reply quickly, rolling your eyes.

“NO TAKE BACKS!” Gyuvin shouts at the exact same time, a cheesy grin on his face fading to a soft smile. “You don’t need to thank me. You just need to keep being my best friend.”

You nod. “I think I can arrange that.”

“Also,” he starts to add, hesitating for a moment before ultimately deciding to continue for better or for worse. “I bet there’s a bunch of people who would love to hear you sing again.”

You press your lips together awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

“Why not? You really don’t think you still have fans?” Gyuvin asks with a frown.

You remember the small group of four or five teenagers standing outside of Total Control with protest signs yesterday. “Honestly, I wouldn’t wish being my fan on anyone.”

“I think they’d be really hurt to hear you say that,” Gyuvin replies, shaking his head like he always does when he thinks you’re being impossible. “It hurts me to hear you say it. I am your biggest fan, after all.”

You smile at the charming sincerity of your goofball best friend. “It must be hard to be around your favorite idol all the time.”

“You have no idea,” Gyuvin agrees with a laugh. He looks up at the sky, avoiding your gaze-- his cheeks noticeably pink in the lamplight. “But I’m happy to suffer for as long as you let me.”

Your bond with Gyuvin has grown stronger. +2 Gyuvin Points. Please add +2 Gyuvin Points to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“Quick, take a picture of me!” Gyuvin suddenly exclaims, running towards the empty crosswalk and striking the least casual, casual pose you’ve ever seen. “I need some new pictures for the grid.”

You snort in disbelief as Gyuvin poses in the warm lights outside a bar. “Can’t believe you just said that.”

“Zeroses are getting bored of my selfies, I think,” he says with a shrug. You humor him, taking your phone out of your pocket and snapping a couple pictures before he adjusts his pose slightly and signals at you to continue. “I saw a lot of comments asking for full-body pictures on my last post.”

“Can’t say I blame them,” you reply with a smirk, snapping some more photos of your annoying, handsome, and also annoyingly-handsome friend. 

✧ New Wallpaper Unlocked: Gyuvin Hit the Griddy ✧

Jiwoong, through his boozy, delusional fog, isn’t really processing anything he’s hearing. Instead, he takes these disembodied voices chattering about taking pictures in his general proximity outside a bar at night to mean the thing they usually mean: the paparazzi has tracked him down yet again.

“F*ck,” he mumbles, prying himself off of the stranger he’s still entangled with. “How do they always find me? It’s like the company personally hires them to ruin my reputation...”

“What?” A feminine voice asks confusedly beside him. “What are you talking about?”

“You should run,” he answers, running a hand through his long black hair. He’s been growing it out for about six months-- ever since the day the company broke it to him that he was too old to re-debut after ZeroBaseOne’s contract expired. That maybe somewhere down the line, there’d be hope for Yujin and Gunwook, but never for him. He’d known that all along. But it didn’t make hearing the truth any easier. “You don’t wanna appear in a headline next to me.”

“A headline?” The feminine voice asks again as Jiwoong inches closer to the end of the alley. “What do you mean? Are you, like, famous or something?”

“For the sake of my own ego, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” Jiwoong replies with a sigh. He peers around the corner, expecting to find several men dressed in dark clothing-- camera flashes blinding him as he attempts to make a break for it.

But that’s not what he finds. 

Instead, there’s just two figures-- slightly hazy through Jiwoong’s eyes as they stroll slowly down the illuminated sidewalk. He squints, attempting to steady his vision until the figures finally come into focus... 

Much to Jiwoong’s surprise, it’s you and Gyuvin.

Gyuvin jogs back over to you, grabbing your phone from your hand and looking through the pictures. “Zeroses know exactly what they want. And they’re not afraid to let us know either.”

“No, they are not,” you agree with a laugh, recalling the time Zeroses once petitioned on Twitter for you all to ‘Show More Arm’ in the Crush music video. The acronym ‘SMA’ trended for a week straight. The company was not amused and ended up putting you all in militaristic long sleeve shirts, pants, and vests in retaliation.

“Oh my god,” a feminine voice suddenly exclaims behind you. “That’s (Y/N) from ZeroBaseOne!"

You and Gyuvin freeze in place, turning around slowly to assess the situation. It’s a pretty blonde girl, lipgloss smeared all over her mouth as a handsome man stares wide-eyed at you beside her. 

“Oh, hyung?” Gyuvin calls as you both realize you’re being graced with the rare presence of your group member Kim Jiwoong in the flesh. You haven’t seen him in awhile. He sleeps all day and spends all night at any club that’ll still let him in. 

He looks much worse than you remember.

“Wait, you know ZeroBaseOne? Oh my god! You--... you thought paparazzi were going to take pictures of you... And you know ZeroBaseOne... That means...” You watch in fascination as the stranger puts two and two together.

Jiwoong turns to quiet his prior makeout partner, the lines of her face still going in and out of focus. He can tell, however, that her jaw is hung open in elated shock... Or maybe... 

“EW! I was making out with some washed-up, has-been idol!?” She shouts in absolute horror, throwing her arms down in despair. “Last week I made out with some weird guy that busks in front of his tteokbokki stand and now THIS? I need to quit drinking.”

“Did she just say she made out with Kim Taerae!?” Gyuvin exclaims; Jiwoong jumping as he realizes you’re both now standing right in front of him. The taller boy’s brow is furrowed in confusion. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve actually made out with two washed-up, has-been idols. If you’re ever interested in tripling your winnings...”

You punch Gyuvin in the arm, to which he mumbles, “Sorry. Blah, blah: game; blah, blah: player.”

Looking at Jiwoong up close, your awkward smile wavers. He’s clearly sh*t-faced, which comes as no surprise to you and it wouldn’t to anyone else who knows him either. He looks distressed and the dark circles under his eyes are unmistakable. Jiwoong leaves you no choice but to worry about him.

“Y-you...” Jiwoong suddenly begins to stammer, left hand kneading his opposite forearm anxiously as his gaze weighs you down. “You were talking to each other. You were... talking.”

Your head snaps to look at Gyuvin, meeting his panicked eyes instantly. It takes only a moment for you to wordlessly reach the same page. And that page reads: Lie like hell.

“What? What do you mean, hyung?” Gyuvin asks as you type something into your phone. “I was talking and you were using your screenreader. Right, (Y/N)?”

You nod emphatically, your screenreader vocalizing, “Are you okay, Woongie? You look really tired! I think maybe you’ve had too much to drink. How about we take you home and get you to bed?”

The silence that follows is deafening before Jiwoong finally whispers, “Really, (Y/N)?”

The expression on his face is painfully ambiguous. You can’t tell if he’s about to laugh, flip you off, cry, or throw up.

“Gaslighting me? I’d expect that from Binnie, but not from you,” he spits, looking down at the ground. When he looks back up, his eyes are darker than before. “You know, I’ve treated you really well this past year considering you f*cked up my whole f*cking life. Taking advantage of my problem isn’t exactly a nice way to repay me.”

You blink back at him, surprised, but not by his harshness. “Your... problem?”

“Guys,” Gyuvin attempts in vain to interrupt.

“Yeah, my...” Jiwoong starts to echo, but he stops when he realizes what he’s accidentally admitted. 

“Guys, there’s--...” Gyuvin tries again to no avail. He seemingly gives up with an agitated sigh.

“I’ve never heard you call it that before,” you reply calmly. 

Jiwoong gulps, clearly overwhelmed as he tries to change the subject. “Y-y--... You are talking! You--... you were lying to me and... you...”

“I know. I’m sorry for lying, Jiwoongie,” you apologize sincerely as the rustle of Gyuvin gnawing his nails enters the soundscape. “And I’m sorry for saying what I said. Can we talk about it more at home, do you think? Maybe where there aren’t sensitive ears listening.”

Only now does Jiwoong remember the presence of the stranger who’d he’d been swapping saliva with just minutes before. “Oh, f*ck.”

“Oh f*ck is right,” Gyuvin says, tips of his fingers still in his mouth. “Nobody ever listens to me.”

“Uh, okay, I can fix this!” Jiwoong exclaims, a reassurance that is probably more for himself than for you. He turns to the girl beside him, who is very clearly wishing she never left her house tonight. “W-what do you want? In exchange for... not talking about any of this ever?”

“My dignity back,” she answers with a sigh. 

Jiwoong grimaces. “Oh, um... I guess I was talking about something more... tangible than that.”

“Yeah, I figured,” she replies with a nod. “Well then, I guess a million won will suffice.”

Gyuvin bursts into laughter. “A million won!? You said it yourself: we’re washed-up, has-been idols. I saw Jiwoong hyung buy that shirt from the Target clearance rack last month.”

Jiwoong pulls out his phone with a dejected sigh. “What’s your Naver Pay?”

“WannaOne5Everxoxo,” she answers happily.

Gyuvin nods satisfactorily. “Gotta respect such good taste at least. You know, our group was formed through a survival show too! Maybe you’d like our--.”

“Not interested,” she declines firmly before a suggestion has even been made. “Yay, it went through! Oh... It’s only 500,000 won.”

Jiwoong laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s--... It’s everything I have.”

You can tell he means it. Shaking your head in absolute disbelief at what you’re about to do, you unlock your phone and open Naver Pay. 

“Oh!” The girl gasps as her phone pings. She looks at the notification, finding the rest of the 1,000,000 won transferred to her account. She nods politely at you. “Thanks.”

Jiwoong meets your gaze sheepishly, lips pressed together in awkward shame. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Have a good night, I guess,” the girl calls over her shoulder as she walks back through the door to the bar. “Losers.”

Her absence makes way for a painfully uncomfortable silence, which Gyuvin breaks by suggesting you find your way back to your car. 

“Good idea,” you agree, starting to walk in the direction you’d come from. When you realize only one pair of footsteps is following you, you turn around to figure out what the issue is. Because nothing can ever be easy, you find Jiwoong leaning against a telephone pole-- dead asleep while still standing upright.

“You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me,” you huff, marching back over to Jiwoong and smacking his arm repeatedly. “Wake up!”

“Mm,” Jiwoong groans, his head falling onto your shoulder. 

“We could just... leave him here,” Gyuvin suggests softly and you can’t deny how appealing that plan sounds. But another headline about Jiwoong’s nightly escapades would only create more problems for all of you in the long run.

Throwing one of Jiwoong’s arms around your shoulders, you pull some of his weight onto your frame. Gyuvin rushes to the other side of your sleeping group member and, together, you trudge your way down the street. Eventually, you find yourselves in front of the Total Control building— which means your car is at least somewhat nearby.

“How much further?” Gyuvin asks, breathing heavily as you pull out your phone.

You use your right thumb to search for Naver Maps, knowing you’d placed a pin on the map where you’d parked as you always did. You laboredly type N, then A, then V, the app appearing in the suggested bar below. You stretch your thumb to reach the icon, pressing down on the screen when suddenly...

"BACK SO SOON?"

Your finger slips.

“Oh for f*ck’s sake,” you grumble as the ground begins to shake around you.

"YOU ARE NOW EXITING THE REAL WORLD. ENJOY YOUR TIME IN THE METAVERSE AND STAY SAFE."

A red haze overtakes the atmosphere as the Metaverse settles into place, the glow of the Total Control Music castle nearly blinding in the darkness. You cough lightly, looking at the ground in embarrassment. 

“Huh. I didn't notice all that butter on your fingers,” Gyuvin taunts as Jiwoong starts to stir between you.

“Not another word,” you threaten, trying desperately to get a better grip on your phone. “Can you hold him for a second so I can get us out of here?”

Just as Gyuvin wraps his right arm tighter around Jiwoong, the previously unconscious man abruptly comes to. He looks around, noticing the different surroundings of the Metaverse. 

“Weird dream,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve really gotta stop mixing liquors.” 

“Yes! Yes, yes, exactly,” you reply, tapping on the MetaNav app when you realize that it hasn’t responded to your vocal command to leave like it usually does. “This is all a dream, Jiwoongie.”

“And you should really stop drinking altogether at this point,” Gyuvin adds with a huff.

“Now let’s get out of here,” you say again, waiting for the voice of the MetaNav app to respond. You’re met with silence. “Oh, this is not good.”

“It’s—… It’s not letting us leave?” Gyuvin asks, eyes wide with panic. 

“What’s not letting us leave?” Jiwoong asks, growing more and more alert. “Where are we? And why is there a gigantic castle where the company building's supposed to be?"

“Doesn’t matter,” you respond sternly, both you and Gyuvin taking turns frantically tapping the MetaNav app in vain. “You’re dreaming, remember?”

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Jiwoong asks again, the slightest hint of fear now present in his voice. “What are those?”

“I dunno, it’s your subconscious,” you respond hurriedly— far too distracted with your current dilemma to properly pay attention to him.

“Kind of looks like big, moving hunks of metal,” Jiwoong continues. “And there’s, like, black fog coming out of them?”

“Sounds really scary, hyung,” Gyuvin takes a turn replying to him. “I would totally unpack some things in therapy as soon as possible if I were you.”

“And there’s something behind them,” Jiwoong observes, confusion in his voice. “Wait… Is that President Kim?”

Your eyes meet Gyuvin’s and then dart towards the castle doors, but your attention comes too late. President Kim is grinning evilly at Jiwoong, seemingly delighted by his presence as he taps his fingers together.

“COME FORWARD AND GREET YOUR KING,” a shadow guard bellows. You and Gyuvin stand your ground, but Jiwoong starts to climb the steps.

“Jiwoong-ah, don’t,” you hiss at him, but he doesn’t listen. Why would he? You’d just told him this was all a dream.

“President Kim?” Jiwoong asks, head tilting to the side. “What’s going on? Why’re you dressed like... that? This is literally the weirdest dream I’ve ever had.”

The “king” nods, smiling eerily. “I assure you, Jiwoong-sshi… This is no dream.”

Jiwoong’s breath hitches in his throat. He’s silent as President Kim takes a few steps forward. 

“This is really bad,” Gyuvin whispers, looking to you for your next move. “I could try that ice thing again? Maybe we could try to do some more damage this time.”

You start to nod, but a familiar voice rings through your head. Do I really have to remind you of this again? Just stand still, my friend. And make sure your pet Gyuvin doesn’t misbehave, Arsène commands.

“Wait,” you warn, grabbing Gyuvin’s raised hand and forcing it back to his side. “I think we should just see what happens first.”

“What!?” Gyuvin replies with furrowed brow. “He’s gonna get himself-- and then us-- killed.”

“Just watch.”

“Kim Jiwoong-sshi, can you even see straight right now? Aigoo, you create such problems for me,” President Kim continues as Jiwoong stands still in shock. “No matter how many times I call the paparazzi on you, you never learn your lesson! Dispatch has photographed you in so many compromising situations that they won’t even respond to my requests anymore. You’re so predictably sleazy that even the paparazzi are bored of you!”

Jiwoong’s hands shake lightly at his sides. “I think I want to wake up now.”

“Can’t even tell when he’s awake or asleep! How did this happen to you, Jiwoong-sshi? Did it cut that deeply to hear the truth? To hear what everyone, including yourself, already knew? That you’re no longer valuable in this industry? That your prime has come and gone and anything salvageable went to sh*t with your group member’s scandal?” President Kim ruthlessly berates. Gyuvin squirms next to you and you keep squeezing his hand to hold him back. “You wanted some control back, didn’t you? You decided to let no one’s scandal ruin you but your own.”

You can only see the side of Jiwoong’s face, but the shade of sickly white he has turned is hard to ignore. His skin is clammy and his lips are parted in horror. He’s starting to claw at his arms, like his skin is crawling.

Like it’s happening to him.

“You used to be sought after in a club. But now they all know better-- don’t they, Jiwoong-sshi? You’re desperate now. If I knew you’d play the part so well, I would’ve framed you instead of (Y/N)-sshi that night,” President Kim continues with a malicious smile.

“What?” Jiwoong exhales, growing more and more unsteady. “You--... Framed!?”

“And now, Jiwoong-sshi, you’re nothing more than a wh*re on the street,” President Kim twists the knife until it's poking at his heart. “Nothing more than a pathetic, penniless... drunk.”

“I AM NOT!” Jiwoong screams, falling to his knees in agony. Gyuvin gasps next to you as his hyung writhes in pain on the steps of the palace. “F*CK, make it stop-- MAKE IT STOP!”

Hey there, handsome. I'm Carmen; seductress of legend. I've never had a vessel as gorgeous as you! I could just eat you right up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?

“No, no, no, I don’t want to die,” Jiwoong rambles deliriously as a disembodied, feminine voice echoes through his head.

“It's--... It's happening to him, isn't it?” Gyuvin asks, face scrunched in confusion. "Could it happen to all of us?"

You’re not gonna die, my love. Not if I have anything to say about it! It’s you and me forever from now on, so let’s lure some villains right into our irresistible trap...

A mask forms around Jiwoong’s face, a feline shape melding to his delicate skin. You throw a hand over Gyuvin’s eyes as Jiwoong rips it off, an anguished scream ricocheting off the palace doors. As a new mask forms and hovers in front of Jiwoong’s healed face, you grab Gyuvin and pull him up the steps.

New Confidant Unlocked: Lovers *ੈ Kim Jiwoong

Jiwoong pants heavily from the torment he’s just fought through. You wait patiently for him to regain his focus until he finally lifts his head, a deadly smirk on his lips.

I guess you're right about me. I hope you can relish it while you’re rotting in hell. ‧ ₊ ✫ ˚・

Jiwoong’s hands open at his sides, balls of hot, orange fire forming in his palms. He throws them wildly at President Kim, one burning a giant hole in his red, velvet robe.

New Skill Unlocked: Homme Fatale ⋆☀︎｡

President Kim stomps his foot in anger, a lightning bolt aiming right for Jiwoong’s head. 

You run up behind him, blowing a gust of wind from your hands towards President Kim and tackling Jiwoong to the ground. You both narrowly avoid the lightning bolt as your wind power knocks President Kim backwards. Jiwoong’s wide eyes meet yours through his mask-- yours and Gyuvin’s now having formed across your eyes as well. “The fire thing is really f*cking cool, Woongie.”

“Thanks,” he says with a soft smile as Gyuvin shoots a wave of icicles towards the shadow guards. “So is the wind thing.”

“I know,” you reply as you sit up, offering Jiwoong your hand. Clambering to your feet, the three of you continue to attack the shadow guards with your elemental powers as President Kim stomps his foot for another lightning bolt. It lands between you and Gyuvin, but he pulls you out of its reach in the nick of time. 

As President Kim begins to retreat through the doors of the castle, your team starts to back down the steps as well. You notice that President Kim has left behind a shoe and your eyes widen when a familiar-looking man rushes out of the castle quickly to retrieve it. 

“Manager Sang?” Jiwoong asks as you realize why this man looks so familiar to you.

The man looks up, shoe in hand-- his eyes glow red, but his expression is ambiguous. This is, in fact, your manager; the only one who stuck around after the fallout. What’s he doing here?

Manager Sang retreats back into the castle without hesitation, leaving you alone with no one but the shadow guards. They look angry, per usual.

“Do you think the app will let us leave--.” Gyuvin doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before the voice of the MetaNav app booms:

"THANKS FOR BEARING WITH US WHILE WE EXPERIENCED SOME TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. NAVIGATING YOU BACK TO THE REAL WORLD NOW. CIAO."

“Ciao?” Gyuvin repeats with a huff as the red haze of the Metaverse fades away around you. “Who does she think she is? Abandons us in the Metaverse and all she has to say for her robot-self is ‘ciao’?”

You glance at Jiwoong, whose complexion has paled once again. “Jiwoong-ah? How are you holding up?”

“I--... I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jiwoong replies, his face turning green before he doubles over and throws up all over the sidewalk. You and Gyuvin let out pained sighs as Jiwoong wipes his arm across his mouth and stands back up. He’s woozy and you grab his arm to keep him upright. “Can we please go home now?”

“C’mon, hyung,” Gyuvin replies, grabbing his other arm-- both of you helping him a bit further down the street as you finally spot your license plate. You grin at Gyuvin sheepishly. “Seriously? We were, like, fifty feet away from your car this whole time?”

“Sssssh, ssh, ssh, ssh, ssh,” you coo, opening the door to the back seat and helping Jiwoong inside. He curls uo on the leather interior, closing his eyes and snoring lightly within seconds. “You know, he’s actually quite cute like this.”

“Like what? Unconscious?” Gyuvin asks with a snort, throwing open the passenger door and climbing inside. You run around to the driver’s side and start the car. “I guess he is pretty cute when he’s not single-handedly destroying his own life and reputation.”

“And when he’s not blaming me for it either,” you add, pulling out from the curb and driving down the street in the direction of your dorm building. “What are we gonna do about him?”

“I have no idea,” Gyuvin answers, sinking into his seat. “We don’t even understand what we’re dealing with. And now we’ve gotta add a whole new person that doesn’t even really like us to the mix?”

You’re driving five miles under the speed limit like you always do after getting your license back, which gives you extra time to realize the street you’re on. To your right is Taerae’s tteokbokki stand, which he’s sitting in front of on the sidewalk while strumming his guitar. On the left, there’s just one building with its lights on: Hanbin’s dance studio.

“Can we make a quick stop? I’m really craving...”

Mini-Decision: Are you craving a snack or a waack?

If you chose "a snack", read below:

“You understand me on a cosmic level,” Gyuvin says with a smile as you pull up to the curb beside Taerae’s tteokbokki stand. Gyuvin glances towards the back of your car where Jiwoong is currently out cold-- his head lolling off of the seat. “He’ll be fine here, right?”

“Eh, he’s slept in worse places,” you answer, opening the car door as Gyuvin follows suit. The sound of Taerae’s hypnotic voice and an accompanying guitar melody fill the air as you make your way towards him. You both stand in front of Taerae, his eyes closed as he finishes the song. After a brief round of applause, you pull a 1,000 won bill from your pocket and throw it in the cup next to him.

“That was my coffee,” he says with a frown, fishing the soaking wet bill out of his drink. You smile at him apologetically, looking down at your feet in embarrassment.

“You should be grateful, hyung,” Gyuvin defends, sticking his hands in his pockets. “It’s not like anyone else is giving you money. You know, I did just hear that you had some fun last week though...”

“What do you guys want?” Taerae asks, rolling his eyes. “Are you here to get back at me for helping Ricky yesterday, or?”

You tilt your head to each side as if you’re considering it before finally pointing to Taerae’s tteokbokki stand. You pat your stomach and bat your eyelashes cutely until he gets the hint.

“Ugh, you’re really gonna make me work?” Taerae asks, already standing up and walking towards his stand. “What can I get for you?”

“Spicy, spicy,” Gyuvin answers quickly, shifting on his feet excitedly. Taerae packs him a hefty portion of the spiciest tteokbokki and then packs another hefty portion of cheesy rosè rice cakes all the way on the end. You grin up at him.

“I know you,” Taerae says, the corner of his mouth turning up in a reluctant smile. “I know what you like.”

“What do we owe you, hyung?” Gyuvin asks, starting to take out his wallet as Taerae hands the plastic bag of food to you. 

The older boy looks at the 1,000 won bill on the counter next to him, then at you. “It’s on me,” he sighs, shaking his head. “And I'm sorry about the other day, (Y/N). Enjoy.”

Your bond with Taerae has strengthened. +1 Taerae Point. Please add +1 Taerae Point to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose "a waack", read below:

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Gyuvin asks, suddenly incredibly flustered. “A waack? Is that some sort of euphemism, or--.”

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, pulling up to the curb on the left side of the street next to Hanbin’s dance studio. You turn off the car, throw open your door and step outside-- making your way to the studio entrance. Gyuvin follows you, slamming the passenger door behind him.

“I was just kidding, by the way,” Gyuvin asks as your hand wraps around the door handle. “I knew you meant you wanted to watch Hanbin... waack.”

“Mmhm,” you dismiss wordlessly, pulling open the door and stepping inside. You were glad that Hanbin had founded a fairly successful dance studio in the months after ZB1's downfall. You were not as glad that Hanbin stayed there day and night, like he was hiding from you. From all of you. He made you dinner several times during the week, but you felt like it was out of guilt. Guilt that he'd quickly rebuilt at least some semblance of a career when the majority of you had yet to do so.

You’re greeted by the sound of c*nty, slayful music-- the image of Hanbin freestyling reflecting back at you off the giant wall mirror. He’s so into the beat that he doesn’t notice you until the song stops.

“Oh, hey kids!” Hanbin greets, lowering the volume of the studio speakers as he runs over to you. “What brings you here so late, my loves? Is everything okay?”

Typical for Hanbin's first instinct to be to worry about you. And to his credit, you and Gyuvin often required a lot of worrying. 

“Uh, we were on our way home and (Y/N) wanted to visit you actually,” Gyuvin explains, placing his giant hand on top of your head playfully.

“Is that so?” Hanbin asks, grinning at you. “Were you, maybe, looking to do a little dancing...?”

You hadn’t danced in a really long time. There was no way you could keep up with Hanbin, or Gyuvin for that matter. Maybe it’s because it’s almost 2 A.M. and you’ve fought shadow guards and an evil version of your company’s CEO twice in eight hours, but neither of those things matter to you at this moment.

You want to dance. And you want to dance right now.

You nod at Hanbin, a soft smile lighting up your face. Gyuvin tilts your head up to look at him with the hand that’s still wrapped around it.

“Really?” He asks, eyes wide in shock. “You wanna dance?”

You nod again, turning back towards Hanbin. You can tell he’s trying really, really hard not to get emotional-- absolutely beaming from ear to ear with pride. 

“Then let’s dance, baby.”

Your bond with Hanbin has grown stronger. +1 Hanbin Point. Please add +1 Hanbin point to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

Your alarm stirs you awake gently. You stretch your arms over your head— glad that you had the day off from probation work after the absolute chaos of the day prior. Your eyes flutter open peacefully, when:

“AAAAAAAGH!” You scream at the sight of Hao’s face floating inches above yours. It’s clear he had been planning to scare you, but, for some reason, he screams in shock, too.

Hao pulls back, staring at you with wide eyes. “You just… You just f*cking screamed!”

Godd*mnit. Could anything just be easy for once?

Hao was the last person you needed finding out about this new secret. Everything said in the dorms entered Hao’s ears and was reported back to the company immediately. Not to mention he’d become your personal demon this past year; tormenting you, ridiculing you, punishing you for ruining his career.

You weren’t really sure why he was so upset, considering he was the one that had been positioned for a promising solo debut in the coming months. The one that President Kim had thrown all of his money and resources behind when the group’s future went haywire-- hanging the rest of you out to dry.

You frown as you remember something that President Kim said in the castle the other day: “Now I have to pretend to put all my efforts into that Hao kid…” 

‘Pretend’. Interesting choice of words.

“Um, hello?” Hao asks, flicking you on the forehead hard with his finger. “You can’t just play dumb like that. I heard you!”

“Then why did you ask if you already knew the f*cking answer?” You counter as your rub your forehead, your anger getting the best of you. 

“Oh my god,” Hao says quietly, blinking at you with parted lips. He stares at you like this for so long that you almost think he’s about to say something nice. He instead concludes, “You’ve been faking it this whole time.”

“WHAT!?” You shout indignantly. No, no, no. There's no way Hao was going to twist this into another opportunity to dig your grave that much deeper. “That’s not true, Hao. I—… I got it back on Monday! I don’t know how it happened, but I—.”

“When President Kim hears about this,” Hao says with a malicious grin, “you’re getting kicked out of here for good.”

Hao walks toward your bedroom door feverishly, excited for another chance to make you as miserable as he is. If he only knew you already were— that hurting your friends so deeply was a fate worse than death to you. That you’d do anything to change what happened.

But you can’t. And you can’t let Hao spill the beans on this either. 

So, you take a deep breath, muster all of your courage and call:

Mini-Decision: Should you yell "HaoHao!" or "B*tch!"?

If you chose "HaoHao!", read below:

“HaoHao!” 

You bite your lip softly; cheeks heating at the cringiness of using your old nickname for him. It’s disgustingly affectionate— something you and Hao haven’t felt towards each other in over a year. 

Still, desperate times call for even more desperate measures.

Hao freezes in his tracks, turning back to face you in slow motion. His face is flushed from embarrassment. At least you got his attention.

“Don’t—… Don’t call me that,” he says annoyedly, hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck.

“Please,” you basically beg. You know it’s what he wants to hear. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

Hao swallows uncomfortably; blinking rapidly as he stares at anything but you. “I—… Why shouldn’t I?”

“I’ll do anything, Hao. Anything you want, no questions asked,” you surrender.

Your bond with Hao has grown stronger. +1 Hao Point. Please add +1 Hao Point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose "B*tch!", read below:

“B*TCH!” 

You probably could’ve chosen your words better, but at the very least it gets Hao’s attention. He freezes in the doorway; turning around slowly before meeting your gaze— eyes fierce and jaw set.

“I beg your motherf*cking pardon?”

You swallow hard. “I meant, I’ll be your b*tch.”

“I—… I don’t think that made me any less confused,” Hao replies after a moment; the tips of his ears turning red.

“I’ll do whatever you want; whenever you want, Hao. Cleaning, cooking, running errands— whatever you want me to do. Just so long as you don’t tell anyone about my voice.”

“And you think that’s something I want?” Hao asks rhetorically, one eyebrow raised.

“I do, actually,” you challenge; matching his energy. “I think, rather than outright telling on me, you’d find it more fulfilling in that freezing cold heart of yours to be able to hold this over my head for the rest of my life… Am I wrong?”

Your bond has grown stronger with Hao. +0 Hao Points.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“You—… I—… But—… Ugh, fine,” Hao agrees after a bunch of protestful stuttering; arms folding across his chest in annoyance. “I’ll make sure to give you a very long list of things I want you to do. Every day. For the rest of forever. And don’t think I won’t be trying to find a loophole out of this. If a bus comes, consider yourself already thrown under it.”

“Thanks, Hao,” you say with a nod. “I get the gist.”

He huffs in reply, turning on his heel and walking out of your bedroom. You sigh with cautious relief. You’re safe for now, but you know all too well that this temporary allyship with Hao is unreliable at best. 

A message lights up your phone on your bedside table:

You’re holding a basket full of Hao’s freshly washed laundry in one arm and balancing an empty bowl of sundaeguk in the other when a practically rabid Jiwoong rushes through the front door and falls to his knees in front of you.

“I’ll do it,” Jiwoong begs, grabbing your right leg and clinging on in desperation. “Whatever it is that I have to do to join the Phantom Thieves... I’ll do it.”

“What in god’s green earth are the Phantom Thieves?” You ask, trying to kick him off you.

You and Gyuvin stare at him for a moment before Gyuvin awkwardly clears his throat. “(Y/N), can I see you over there for a second?”

Your eyes follow the direction that Gyuvin’s finger is pointing, glancing at the corner of the hallway less than four feet away. Shrugging, you walk over with Gyuvin, who immediately pulls you into an unnecessary, two-person huddle. 

“What are the Phantom Thieves?” You repeat annoyedly.

“Jiwoong came to the company today, loudly begging for answers so I had to calm him down a bit,” Gyuvin explains. “He was asking what happened and where we were and if we’re superheroes and all these questions I don’t really have the answers to. Then, I saw a flier on the bulletin board for the new semi-professional production of Phantom of the Opera that President Kim is in and a poster for President Kim’s first hit single ‘Sexy, Magic, Love Thief’ on the wall in front of me.”

“I’ll never get over that title, by the way,” you muse.

“It’s so 2000s,” Gyuvin agrees, his voice growing louder. “So, to get Jiwoong to shut up, I said we were the... Phantom Thieves. And that we’re on a very secret mission to expose Total Control Music and take back our lives.”

“And now,” you draw a conclusion, “he wants in. Well, has he considered that he’s not exactly a trustworthy friend to us? What gives him the right to suddenly care about the company’s wrongdoings? Or you? Or me?”

“Okay, listen,” your tall, hyperactive friend says, no longer even attempting to whisper. “I don’t really want this old, washed-up loser slowing us down, but he does have that awesome fireball-shooting power.”

“I completely agree,” you say, patting him on the shoulder. “But maybe you could lower your voice just a b--.”

“I KNEW YOU WOULD AGREE,” Gyuvin basically shouts. “Jiwoong hyung might not be cool or respectable or funny or useful, but... Since we've got the upper hand, I say we make a deal with him and take him for everything he’s worth!”

“Hey, just so you guys know, I can hear everything you’re saying,” Jiwoong interjects, which earns him a harsh ‘SSSH!’ from both of you. He nods and reattaches his gaze to the floor.

“Fine,” you agree with a sigh. "Leave this to me. And don’t say anything stupid.”

Gyuvin nods at you, a smirk splayed on his lips. “You can count on your right-hand man, Team Leader. Oh, I also told him that you’re the Team Leader!”

With a satisfied smile, you hop back over to Jiwoong, who meets your gaze as you land in front of him again. 

“Okay, if you guys are gonna ask for money, you know I don’t have any...” Jiwoong attempts to reason. “I already owe you a ton of money anyway that we all know I’m never actually going to be able to repay you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you respond with a sigh. Jiwoong looks up at you, endlessly grateful and soul-crushingly ashamed. “Besides, we don’t want money.”

“We don’t?” Gyuvin asks stupidly. You kick his shin. “OW! What the f--... Um... I mean, ow, what the f*ck, hyung!? I'm so hurt! I can’t believe you think we’d want to take your money. Thought we were friends...”

“Mmhm,” Jiwoong mumbles, devoid of amusement.

You clap your hands loudly to regather their attention. “After our team meeting, we have decided that we will reluctantly let you in after you pay a hefty price. And that hefty price for entry into the Phantom Leaves--.”

“Thieves,” Gyuvin corrects quietly, bracing for impact.

“WHATEVER!” You concede, folding your arms across your chest exasperatedly. “The final price for entry into the Phantom Thieves is...”

⁺⋆✰ Chapter Choice ✰⋆⁺

It's up to you, Player. Will the price be...

CHOICE 1: Lots of Aegyo

OR

CHOICE 2: A Kiss...

Then again, it was mostly your story. He and the other members were unfortunately just collateral damage. If you were uncomfortable with your story being told, then maybe (in theory), he should respect that.

But your track record of being a stubborn pain in the ass points him in the opposite direction once more. He was going to help you whether you liked it or not… 

And he’d be remiss not to realize that helping you would help him and the others, too.

Gyuvin kicks the gravel on the pavement as he walks towards the side street beside the dorm building. Another sigh escapes him when he sees the space where his car is usually parked is empty; only just now remembering he brought it in for maintenance yesterday. He checks his phone for the time: he has his first appointment of the day with a reporter from SBS in an hour.

“Oh, come on,” he huffs as the car to his right beeps suddenly.

Hanbin waves at him as he walks to the driver’s side of his car. Gyuvin’s eyes widen as a plan forms in his head.

“Hanbin hyung! Wait up,” Gyuvin calls, much to the surprise of the older boy. “Could you give me a ride?”

“Oh, Binnie— I’m running late as it is,” Hanbin excuses politely, hopping into the driver’s seat.

Gyuvin’s not ready to give up just yet. He runs up to the passenger side, signaling for Hanbin to roll down the window. Reluctantly, he does.

“Could I just come with you then? I can walk the rest of the way,” Gyuvin pleads.

Hanbin caves, unlocking the door for him. Gyuvin scrambles inside, fastening his seatbelt happily. “You’re going to SBS first, right? You’re gonna walk all the way there from my studio?”

Gyuvin grins mischievously as he looks down at his keyring. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Thank you, Gyuvin-sshi, but…” The reporter says, biting her lip uncomfortably. “We just don’t think it’s wise to crack open a story without substantial evidence.”

It’s the third no he’s gotten today. The 207th overall. 

“Without substantial evidence?” Gyuvin asks, shaking his head. “There’s video footage of management mistreatment! You looked at the flashdrives, right? You saw—.”

“We saw nothing that can’t be classified as the current industry standard,” the older reporter beside her interrupts. He runs his hand through his thinning hair and readjusts his glasses on his nose. “It’s disheartening to see the struggle you kids face in order to debut, but many would say that it's just the price you pay for success. And besides, none of this could ever be used to negate (Y/N)-sshi’s conviction.”

Gyuvin gulps, a lump forming in his throat. He always put on such a tough front at these meetings, but the truth is that they take an emotional toll on him. How could everyone see these things and say to his face that it's just the way things were meant to be? How could they not care about what happened to you?

Sure, maybe Gyuvin doesn’t know what really happened that night— hell, you don’t even know! But what he does know is you. And he knows that you would never make such a terrible decision.

The older reporter leans in with a sigh, a concerned look on his face. “Listen, young man. It must’ve been… hard. All of this happening to you and your friends. It must be very difficult to reckon with. But don’t you think your time would be better spent finding a way to move on instead of obsessing over the past?”

There’s that word again. Is that what Gyuvin was doing? Obsessing over the past? Obsessing over helping you?

It seemed on the outside that every one of Gyuvin’s group members had moved on in their own ways— including you. You’d already fulfilled almost a year of probation and your complaints had become fewer and farther between. 

Is it true that Gyuvin is… stuck?

Gyuvin stands up from his chair, bowing to the two reporters dejectedly as he gathers his things. “Thank you for your time,” he says quietly as he walks toward the door.

“Take care, Kim Gyubin-sshi,” the younger reporter calls as Gyuvin exits the office; a gloomy storm cloud, floating through the KBS building and into the parking garage. 

He pulls out his key ring and presses twice on the unlock button-- walking towards the flashing lights coming from the far right corner. Opening the car door, he climbs inside and throws his phone down on the passenger seat in frustration. 

Maybe that reporter is right, Gyuvin thinks with a sigh. Can I really keep putting myself through this? 

He turns the key into the ignition and buckles his seatbelt, sifting through the center console compartment to find his sunglasses when he hears a buzz from the passenger seat. Picking up his phone, he finds a message from Ricky.

“Idiot,” Gyuvin mutters to himself. In Gyuvin’s eyes, you had enough to deal with. Sometimes the other members could be so needlessly cruel to you. None of this was your fault. How hard could it really be to just believe (Y/N)?

Gyuvin frowns, suddenly feeling like he might be forgetting something. (Y/N)...

“(Y/N)!!” Gyuvin shouts, throwing his phone back down and shifting the gear as he steps on the gas pedal. He glances at the time on the car display, hitting the steering wheel with frustration as he finds he’s a little more than a few minutes behind schedule. 

“Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t...” He curses, weaving his way out of the parking garage and through the bustling streets of Seoul. Your bus back to the police station would arrive no later than 5:30 P.M. and, if Gyuvin wanted to beat you there (and he desperately did), he’d have to speed the whole way.

At 5:28 P.M, Gyuvin pulls up to the police station-- honking his horn in anger as the car in front of him backs into the last spot. “Oh, come on!”

It takes him another ten minutes to find a parking spot on the street and he knows there’s no way in hell he can gaslight you into thinking you parked your car five blocks away from where it was when Gyuvin “borrowed” it this morning. 

He gets out of your car, accepting his fate as he walks in the direction of the police station. Not only was he going to look like such a douche for taking your car without asking after your fight this morning, but he was also definitely going to get an earful for making you think your car was stolen. 

Gyuvin’s still three blocks away from the police station when he suddenly spots you-- bright orange vest and all, staring up at the Total Control Music building. His heart sinks. You’d probably wandered around looking for your car and ended up face-to-face with the company building in a casually cruel twist of fate.

He tries his best to blend in with other passersby as he approaches the building, not wanting to be responsible for causing a PR scene today. He’s almost right behind you, reaching out to touch your shoulder when he hears a voice seemingly come from where you’re standing.

“Holy sh*t,” it says. 

Gyuvin exhales in shock. No f*cking way. Was that your voice? Despite the fact he hasn’t heard it in ages, he recognizes it almost instantly.

“Holy sh*t,” Gyuvin echoes. You whip around to face him; eyes meeting his instantly. Maybe he’s mistaken, but he swears he sees a bit of panic in them.

“Did you just... speak?”

Okay, Player! Let's find out how your Part One Chapter Choice plays out... To refresh your memory, Choice 1 was to Lie to Gyuvin while Choice 2 was to Tell Gyuvin the Truth.

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “LIE TO GYUVIN”:

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, you think as Gyuvin stares at you with those wide, angel eyes. How could you possibly tell him what just “happened”? He’d wheel you off to the looney bin once and for all. Gyuvin had always believed you, but this? This was asking too much.

Besides, you aren’t even sure what just happened. It was most likely some weird hallucination brought on by sun stroke or dehydration. Ugh, Hanbin had even reminded you to drink water this morning. 

But if it was a hallucination, how did I get my voice back? Was it just a fluke? You shut the thought down as soon as it arises. There was a reasonable explanation for this-- you just needed time to figure it out.

You bite your lip and decisively shake your head at Gyuvin. You hold your phone up instead and point at it; effectively telling him that it was your AI screenreader that spoke rather than you.

Gyuvin blinks back at you-- his lip trembling slightly. “I know what your phone’s voice sounds like, (Y/N). It wasn’t that. It was you. I know it was you.”

The jig was up before it began, but you continue to persist anyway. You type into your phone and the screenreader vocalizes for you, “It was a video of me... Talking. It was playing on my phone. That’s what I meant.”

“(Y/N),” Gyuvin says sadly. You’re on the verge of really hurting him this time. You’ve never lied to Gyuvin before-- not intentionally. You’ve gone too far already and it’s written all over his face. He turns around, taking a few steps away from you.

“Bin-ah.”

He freezes; eerily still at the sound of your voice.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, tucking your lip between your teeth in shame. “I just--... Something happened just now while I was walking around trying to find my car and I have no idea how to explain it. I thought maybe you would think I was crazy.”

Gyuvin turns around, running to you and enveloping you in a giant hug. His arms squeeze you so tight, you’re afraid you’re losing oxygen. It feels nice.

“I already think you’re crazy,” Gyuvin says into the top of your head. “Don’t ever feel like you need to lie to me, okay? We’re in this together, right? And do you really think I couldn’t recognize your voice anywhere?”

You pull back and shake your head up at him as he gently scolds you, feeling the need to ease the lingering tension and guilt. “I can’t believe I get to call you a loser again.”

“I’ve missed hearing that so desperately,” he concurs with a roll of his eyes. “But maybe you should rethink calling me a loser, since you basically have me to thank for all this. If I hadn’t stolen your car this morning, you never would’ve had to walk around looking for it.”

“YOU DID WHAT!?” You shout, causing a couple of the girls in front of Total Control to look your way. Gyuvin gulps, grabbing your hand and starting to pull you down the street in the direction that he came.

“I’m sorry, I just forgot my car was in the shop and I remembered you gave me an extra key to your car in case of an emergency and...” Gyuvin rambles before pausing with a frown. “Okay, does this really matter now in the scheme of things?”

“Yes,” you answer dryly. “It does.”

Gyuvin nods, looking down at his shoes. “Well I’ll just have to make it up to you then. In the meantime, um... What did happen just now?”

You squeeze his hand, pulling him faster down the sidewalk. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

Your bond with Gyuvin has grown stronger. +0 Gyuvin Points.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “TELL GYUVIN THE TRUTH”:

You gulp. Gyuvin had always believed you, even when nobody else would. What makes you think anything would be different this time? No, you were sure of it. Telling him the whole truth and nothing but the truth is the right choice to make.

You take a deep breath and then: 

“YouwillneverbelievewhatjusthappenedtherewasthisthingonmyphoneanditsaidIwasleavingtherealworldandthenacastlethisGIANTcastleappearedintheplaceofthecompanybuildingandIthoughtIwashallucinatingordyingsoIwentinsideandinsidethereweretheseportraitsofallofusonthewallsandtheseshadowfigurescapturedmeandthenPresidentKimcameoutdressedasakingandhetoldmeheframedmeforthecrimethatnightandthenmyfacebasicallyexplodedandIgotsuperpowersandmyvoicecamebackandthenIranawayandcamebacktotherealworldandnowI’mhere.”

Gyuvin stares at you; unblinking. After a few moments, he wraps his arms tightly around you in a hug. You were right. Of course Gyuvin still believed you.

He tightens the embrace; more and more until you’re suddenly very suspicious of what’s going on. Then, you’re in the air-- kicking your feet as Gyuvin lifts you up and begins to carry you down the street.

“Gyubin-ah! Put me down,” you complain from over your very tall friend’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks rhetorically, pulling out his keyring from his back pocket and hitting the unlock button on what you recognize to be your car keys. “Taking you to the hospital. You clearly hit your head or have sun poisoning or something.”

“Fine,” you huff furiously as he sets you back down on the ground. “As long as we stop back at the police station beforehand. I need to report a crime.”

Gyuvin takes your face in his hands worriedly; squishing up your cheeks as he examines every inch of it. “Why? Did someone hurt you? Huh? Is that why you’re acting like this?”

Through your squished up face, you manage to answer, “I need to turn in the culprit for my missing vehicle.”

His huge hand lets go of your cheeks; a glare immediately hardening your face as you stare at your spare key in his hand. Gyuvin follows your line of sight before shoving his keyring back in his pocket quickly. “Aw, come on now. You... you have no proof it was me!”

“How did you know it was missing then?” You ask with a smirk.

Gyuvin’s eyes widen; knowing he’s been caught. He smiles at you sheepishly. “That’s--... That’s hardly the most important thing right now, (Y/N). I mean, you got your voice back! This is...”

His brow furrows now; his smile becoming complex and genuine. “This is amazing,” he announces. With a laugh, he adds, “Even if you had to go completely bonkers to get it back. I still love you.”

Gyuvin blushes a bit when he realizes what he said. You were never too verbally affectionate with each other, but this was a very special circumstance. You’d let it slide this one time.

“I love you, too, loser,” you respond, pulling out your keys from your pocket and continuing down the sidewalk. “But just to be clear, I’m driving. And you are on thin ice.”

Your bond with Gyuvin has grown stronger. +1 Gyuvin Point. Please add +1 Gyuvin Point to your scoresheet.

All Continue Reading Below

The dinner table is quiet. It usually is when Hanbin’s not there to dote on all of you. Taerae slurps up the last of the glass noodles from his bowl of japchae happily.

Gyuvin shovels more meat into his mouth as something dawns on him. “Hey (Y/N), why did you decide to make japchae?”

You sigh despondently into your bowl. You and Gyuvin had decided not to tell anyone else just yet about the return of your voice. Instead, you pick up your phone and type; your trusty screenreader vocalizing, “Taerae said Ricky texted him to tell me he would come home for dinner if I made it.”

Gyuvin glares at Taerae. “Oh, did he now?”

Taerae clears his throat awkwardly before standing up and rushing his bowl to the sink. “Thanks for dinner, (Y/N)! It was actually really good. I’ve gotta head to work now!”

“You better f*cking run,” Gyuvin growls as Taerae runs out of the kitchen and through the front door.

“Something you’d like to tell me?” You ask, scooping the leftover japchae into two bowls. 

Gyuvin sighs. “I’m sorry. With everything going on, I forgot to mention that Ricky texted me to participate in his assh*lery. I guess Taerae got the same message.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug. “Honestly, we have way bigger things to worry about now.”

“Yeah,” Gyuvin agrees, but you can hear a bit of uncertainty in his voice. After you’d explained everything that happened on your drive home, your best friend had been unusually silent. It didn’t bother you much, though: you knew it was gonna be insanely hard to digest from the start. You’re pretty sure the only reason you’ve been dealing with it as well as you have is that you’ve convinced yourself you’re still just stuck in a dream.

You’d wake up soon. Wouldn’t you?

“Should I deliver one of these?” Gyuvin asks, pointing to the two bowls of japchae. 

You nod gratefully. “Yeah, that’d be great. I’ve got…”

Mini-Decision: Deliver your bowl to Yujin or Gunwook?

If you chose Yujin, read below:

“I’ve got Yujinnie,” you announce; running off to the youngest’s bedroom. You knock on the door to no response and jiggle the handle to find it locked. You can hear the furious scribbling of a pencil and the gentle humming of a focused student. It makes you smile knowing that your maknae was trying to make something of himself one way or another. Maybe one day you’d go back to university, too.

You know Yujin is busy studying for his last couple days of university exams, so you leave the bowl of japchae on the floor outside his door. Pulling out your phone, you message:

Your bond with Yujin has grown stronger. +1 Yujin Point. Please add +1 Yujin Point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you picked Gunwook, read below:

“I’ve got Gunwookie,” you announce, running off to the bedroom that belongs to your reclusive friend. You knock on the door to no response and jiggle the handle to find it locked. The colored LED lights flashing through the gap under the door and clicking sounds of a mouse and keyboard are the only signs of human life.

You know the chances of Gunwook opening the door for you aren’t slim to none... They’re none to none. But if you could get your voice back, then maybe Gunwook coming out of his room again would be possible one day, too. You place the bowl of japchae on the floor outside his door. Pulling out your phone, you message:

Your bond with Gunwook has grown stronger. +1 Gunwook Point. Please add +1 Gunwook Point to your scoresheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“So…” Gyuvin exhales as you both stare up at the Total Control Music building. The rest of the members had been in meetings at the company all day and Gyuvin had messaged you to meet him after you got out of probation duty. “This is where the… castle… is?”

You sigh, looking down at the sidewalk dejectedly. “I know it sounds insane.”

Gyuvin taps your arm with his elbow. “Hey, don’t do that. We’re gonna figure this out! You said you there was some weird app on your phone, right?”

Your eyebrows raise at this reminder. “Yeah! Oh my god, I totally forgot about that,” you reply, pulling your phone out of your back pocket and swiping until your eyes land on the red-colored app with an eye at the center. 

Gyuvin takes your phone from your hand; examining the app. “MetaNav? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think it called the place I was in… the Metaverse,” you say with a frown. “Maybe the app emits some sort of harmful radiowave that messes with your brain and makes you hallucinate?”

“Maybe,” Gyuvin agrees absentmindedly. Thumb hovering over the app, he asks, “So you just pressed it like this and—?”

“GYUVIN, WAIT!” You shout as Gyuvin opens the app. It’s too late. The air around the both of you grows red and hazy; the buildings and cars shake wildly and the people on the streets disappear into thin air.. 

A familiar robotic voice booms from your phone: “WELCOME BACK TO THE METAVERSE. ENJOY YOUR STAY.”

“What the—….” Gyuvin whispers, marveling at the new world around you. As his attention finally shifts back in the direction of the company building, he’s met with the sight of a gigantic, golden castle in its place. It’s just like you’d described it. He’d never tell you this, but he had been pretty concerned you’d finally snapped.

You watch cautiously as Gyuvin takes a deep breath; steadying himself before finally saying:

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake,” you mumble, grabbing Gyuvin by the arm and dragging him behind a parked car. “Sssssh, Binnie.”

He’s still shouting despite your verbal efforts to quiet him. “Bin-ah, be quiet— there’s tons of guards in there and…”

You shrug and stick your hand in his open mouth.

“AAAA—ogugh…” The screaming stops. Gyuvin stares at you; shocked. You remove your hand and wipe it off on your reflector vest. Gyuvin pouts back at you, quietly asking, “Did you wash your hands after work?”

“Absolutely not,” you confirm, peering out from behind the parked car at the castle gates. Just as you expected, the noise had drawn the attention of several shadow guards. 

Gyuvin sits up on his knees, peeking out over your head and gasping at what he sees. “What are those things?” 

“They’re the palace guards, I guess,” you answer softly; the weight of reality finally creeping in. “They’re shadows and… and… This isn’t a dream, is it?”

Gyuvin exhales heavily. “No. I don’t think it is.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” you mumble, looking at the pavement in despair. This is real. The thought echoes in your head until something suddenly occurs to you.

If this alternate dimension is real... Is everything that happened yesterday real, too? 

Did you really have special powers? Was Arsène actually a guide... a persona... that would help you through this? Was the confession made by “King” Kim Hyunwoo the truth?

“It’s okay, (Y/N),” Gyuvin soothes, squeezing your shoulder with his large hand. “I don’t know what the f*ck is going on, but... We can figure it out. Together.”

I like your small-faced friend, a voice rings through your head. He could prove useful.

“Arsène?” You ask; an eyebrow raised.

“Bless you,” Gyuvin responds.

“No, that’s the voice in my head,” you explain with a laugh. “Its name is Arsène. I think it’s like... My true self... personified? Or something like that.”

“Huh,” your best friend affirms; chewing his cheek. “Well tell it I said hi. And also can you ask it what the hell we’re supposed to do?”

Hello to your little human companion, Arsène replies. There’s nothing you’re supposed to do here. But there is something you will want to accomplish here. Perhaps you should start by going inside.

You look up at the grand entrance which is being patrolled by several shadow guards. Maybe you could knock them down with your wind power again, but it would be easier to...

“Find a different way in,” you finish your thought aloud as you spot a narrow alley between the castle wall and the building to its right. You grab Gyuvin’s arm; pulling him out from behind the parked car with you and running to the entrance of the alleyway. 

Now if I may ask, Arsène ponders, What exactly is a Gyuvin?

“An idiot,” you reply, walking ahead of Gyuvin in search of an alternate route into the palace. 

“Hey,” Gyuvin replies annoyedly. “What’d that thing ask you just then?”

It’s then that you spot it: a silver, metal door that could be your alternate route inside. You run over to it-- assessing the situation. There’s two sliding locks at the very top of the door that could be easily unfastened, but they’re too high off the ground for you to reach. Gyuvin, on the other hand...

“My very tall, very gifted idiot of a best friend,” you amend your answer as Gyuvin walks up to the door. He rolls his eyes at you before extending his arms up and just barely reaching the top most lock on the balls of his feet.

“The tall idiot has completed his mission,” Gyuvin announces with a smirk after he unhinges both locks-- pulling the door handle and flinging it open. A small crashing sound follows.

“Bin-ah,” you scold in a whisper, walking up to the open doorway and taking a peek inside. You look left and right, rendering the coast clear. You motion him inside and he follows, letting the door slam behind him. “Bin-ah...”

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles passively as he takes a look around. You seem to be in some sort of back hallway and the walls and floors are made of grey stone. There’s even spiderwebs in the upper corners of the ceiling. “I can’t lie: this place looked nicer from the outside.”

There’s another door at the end of the long hallway, much taller than the one you used to get inside. There’s a gap, however, at the top of the door-- large enough to see what lies beyond it. You walk towards the door and, once you reach it, you look up at Gyuvin. If you sit on his shoulders, maybe...

“Give me a boost?” You ask with a grin, wiggling your eyebrows. He sighs in defeat, squatting down so you can sit on his shoulders. He straightens back up, noticeably unsteady but you pay little attention to it. Even on top of his shoulders, you’re struggling to see through the gap above the door. You shift a bit, trying to boost yourself just a couple centimeters more. 

“(Y/N), stop moving,” he warns, but you continue to ignore him. You shift a bit more, raising up just a bit off of Gyuvin’s shoulders. Your eyes are almost level to the gap, so you push up off of your tall friend just a bit more... but the uneven distribution of weight quickly proves too much for Gyuvin’s slight frame to handle. Both of you go flying through the door, landing with a big thud on ornate, velvet-carpeted floors.

You both blink at each other in shock, faces a bit too close together as a swarm of shadow guards surround you. 

Gyuvin coughs awkwardly, sitting up and brushing himself off. He offers a hand to you but you decline.

“Wouldn’t want the incredibly reasonable weight of my body to overwhelm you again,” you deadpan; turning your attention towards the approaching guards.

“I don’t think I should really be expected to perform acrobatics right off the bat,” Gyuvin retorts. “But I guess I should probably start working out again...”

A slow clap sounds in the distance and you both look in the direction of the noise. “King Hyunwoo” rounds the corner-- red, velvet robe trailing behind him and blending in with the floors. His massive crown is just slightly off-center on his head.

“Oh, f*ck no,” Gyuvin says, shaking his head. “No f*cking way. This assh*le’s really gonna roll up looking like the Cowardly f*cking Lion?”

“Gyuvin-sshi! It’s the utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance as well,” the Metaverse President Kim greets with a sh*t-eating grin. The shadow guards restrain you and Gyuvin as he lands in front of you; your arms twisted behind your backs as President Kim analyzes you with a patronizing smile. “You’ve arrived at my palace! Isn’t it marvelous?”

“The back hallways could use a good dusting,” Gyuvin replies with a frown.

“I’ll take that into consideration,” President Kim notes. “Look at the trouble (Y/N)-sshi has gotten you into once again. First, the premature ending of your career. And now: your execution. You should really start picking better friends!”

“(Y/N)’s my best friend in the whole f*cking world! And I know what you did, you scumbag. You’re a killer. And a liar. And I’m gonna make sure everyone knows it!” Gyuvin spits, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Is that so, Gyuvin-sshi?” President Kim asks with an unsettlingly calm smile. “And just how are you going to do that?”

“The media! They--... When they see all of this, you’re d-done for!” Gyuvin’s still yelling but his voice is starting to shake. “They have to b--... believe me now!”

“Really, Gyubin-sshi? You still think it’s possible to get them on your side? You haven’t yet questioned why there’s not a single media outlet willing to dive a bit deeper into your headline-worthy claims?” President Kim smiles as he smoothes the snow leopard fur trim of his royal robe. “Why when you always bring them the ‘additional evidence’ they require; it’s still somehow never enough?”

Gyuvin’s jaw is set in a way you’ve never seen before. You don’t think your playful, laid back best friend has ever been this solemn in his life. “What are you saying?”

“You kids always need everything done for you, don’t you? Fine, I’ll spell it out for you,” President Kim replies with a haughty laugh. “The reason no one will take your story is because they’ve already been paid off. Cost me a fortune, too. But the things I do to keep myself--... I mean, you-- safe. Now we can put all of this behind us-- right, Gyuvin-sshi?”

Tears are spilling down your best friend’s cheeks. You can feel his grief fill the room until something much redder drowns it out. Rage. Painful and palpable rage.

“No! I... I don’t want to put things behind us. I w-want them to go back to the way they were!” Gyuvin rips his arms out of the guards’ grasp. It must hurt him to use this much force, but he doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he’s gripping the sides of his head like it’s about to burst open. 

You want to comfort him; tell him it’s gonna be okay. Tell him you can just give up. You can just forget about all this and move on. 

Best stay put, Arsene interjects. You should not interfere in someone’s awakening.

Awakening... Wait, does that mean...?

“(Y/N)’s a convicted criminal because of you! You were always rude to us as trainees. Always working us to the bone so you could turn the largest profit off of us! I could live with that. But now my best friend lives in disgrace of the public-- of our own members-- because of something you did. So I’ll never give up! Not until you’re behind bars!”

Gyuvin doubles over now; screaming in what you know is agony. It kills you not to interfere. Just push through it, Binnie. Just push through.

Ahoy, me new matey! A voice rips through Gyuvin’s ears; nearly splintering his head in two. Ye've always had that fightin' spirit in ye, me lad! I be glad ye're finally unleashin' it. Me name be Cap'n Kidd! Perhaps ye've heard o' me?

“WHAT!?” Gyuvin screams, pounding his ears with his fists. “WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON!?”

I’ll be helpin' ye out from now on. Let's fight together forever, me hearty! Scallywags: beware!

Gyuvin falls silent, sweat pouring down the sides of his face. A mask begins to form around his face and meld to the flesh around his eyes. He clutches at it, pulling harder and harder until finally...

Sccccchrip.

You look away but still feel a phantom pain shoot through you, reliving the excruciating memory from just yesterday. A new mask materializes delicately in front of Gyuvin’s eyes. It's a skull with fangs and sweet, droopy ears.

New Confidant Unlocked: Chariot *ੈ Kim Gyuvin

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

Gyuvin breathes haggardly for a few moments before looking up at President Kim, a menacing look in his eyes.

I’ll get a headline with your name in it one way or another. ‧ ₊ ✫ ˚・

Gyuvin reaches out his hand instinctively; a sudden blast of what appears to be icicles shooting from his fingertips.

New Skill Unlocked: Melting Point ‧*❆

A chill passes over you as you watch President Kim dodge the attack in the nick of time. 

“Need some help?” You ask, feeling your own mask synthesize in front of your eyes. You send a gust of wind President Kim’s way, which sweeps him off of his feet and down to the floor.

Gyuvin looks back at you smirking, one eyebrow raised cheekily. “Do I look like I need help?”

“Not really, but I’m getting a little bored,” you reply as you high-five Gyuvin. “And I was--.”

A bolt of electricity suddenly runs through you and knocks you to the ground. One second, two seconds, three seconds as a static pain courses through your body. 

“(Y/N)!? Oh my god,” you hear Gyuvin panic through ringing ears. He shakes you a bit until you open your eyes. “Are you okay!? What the f*ck was--.”

A cough comes from the direction of President Kim, jolting you upright to look at him. He’s on his feet now, clutching his chest. “GUARDS! Exterminate them.”

President Kim darts down a passageway to the left as shadow guards surround you. Back to back, you and Gyuvin assess the impending doom.

“Think we can take ‘em?” Gyuvin asks over his shoulder.

“Absolutely not,” you answer with a snort. “We don’t even really know how to use our powers yet. I say we get out of here and investigate some other time.”

Gyuvin nods. “Got it. So... let’s hit ‘em with what we got and make a run for it?”

“Count of three,” you confirm; reaching out your hands and taking a focusing breath. “One... Two... Three!”

You send a heavy gust of wind from your hands, knocking the group of guards rushing towards you to the ground. The sound of ice shards connecting with metal followed by a series of loud thuds alerts you that Gyuvin was successful in his attack as well.

You wrap your hand around his forearm, taking off and pulling your best friend with you in the direction out the door you’d fallen through. Down through the dusty, grey hallway and back out the side door, you run as fast as you can through the alleyway-- only stopping when you’ve reached the other side of the street where you first entered the Metaverse.

“TAKE US HOME,” you shout; out of breath and clutching your sides-- you and Gyuvin leaning on each other for support after such heavy physical exertion. Guess he isn’t the only one out of shape after this year of hiatus...

"TAKING YOU HOME TO THE REAL WORLD. COME BACK SOON."

The air and your surroundings shake wildly until the red haze finally lifts and the world returns to normal. Someone brushes by you, hitting you with their briefcase as they pass.

Gyuvin stares at you wide-eyed. “What--... what just--... What--...”

“Yeah,” you agree with a nod. “Do you... wanna talk about it?”

“F*ck no,” he laughs, anxiously chewing on his bottom lip. “I actually can’t even begin to process any of this right now. I need a distraction. Immediately.”

“How about we go eat our weight in food?” You suggest, starting off in the direction that you parked your car. Gyuvin follows behind you, oddly silent to your suggestion.

“That would be cool,” he replies finally, but there’s a hint of reservation in his voice that he can’t hide.

“Spit it out already, Binnie.”

“What about karaoke?” He suggests, eyes absolutely lighting up. “Have you sung at all since you got your voice back? I’ve been dying to hear you!”

You can’t lie: your heart swells a bit at your best friend’s complimentary excitement. You can tell this would make him really happy…

On the other hand, if you go out to sing in public, there’s a much greater danger that someone could find out you got your voice back...

⁺⋆✰ Chapter Choice ✰⋆⁺

What’ll it be, Player? Will you choose to...

CHOICE 1: Go Get Food

OR

CHOICE 2: Go to Karaoke

✰

“I was at an event,” you say slowly, watching as the corner of the officer’s lip begins to twitch. “It was an after-party for the premiere of our new tour documentary. The whole company was there! They all saw me there.”

The officer nods. “They did indeed. The problem, (Y/N)-sshi, is that not one of them remembers seeing you leave.”

A blurred memory of colored strobe lights, a black sportscar, and a man in a suit flash in your mind. The truth is that you don’t really remember leaving the party either.

“It was... It got kind of crazy,” you admit, pulling at the skin on your fingers. “I don’t--... I don’t know what happened.”

The officer nods, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms. “You and your group members have a bit of a reputation, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that,” you counter, furrowing your brow annoyedly. “It’s hard, okay? Being an idol is... We just--... We just want to have a bit of fun sometimes, but--.”

The officer’s interest is piqued by your confession. “A bit of ‘fun’? Can I assume by ‘fun’ you mean... partying? Drinking? S--.”

“And?” You spit. “Weren’t you young once? Or were you always a middle-aged assh*le that smells like hot dog water?”

A splash of water hits your face, running down your neck and soaking your shirt.

“You wanna be a smartass?” The officer asks, eyebrows raised. “I’ll book you right now, no questions asked. We already have you at the scene of the crime. We have your fingerprints on the steering wheel of the vehicle. Tell me: what more do I really need from you?”

“I didn’t do it,” you say softly, looking down at your lap sullenly. “I would never drive when I was like that. I wouldn’t.”

“Tell that to Park Junyoung-sshi,” the officer says, standing up from his folding chair and walking to the door of the investigation room. “You can find him in the morgue.”

“Wait! Please! I DIDN’T DO IT! I DIDN’T-- I DIDN’T... I,” you scream, your voice suddenly growing hoarse as it gets harder and harder to speak. “I... didn’t...”

You groan as the sound of your alarm wakes you from your dream. It could technically be called a nightmare, but you dream it so much that it’s become almost... soothing. 

Forcing yourself up and out of bed, you walk to your closet and throw on a suitable outfit for work. Jeans, a black t-shirt, and athletic sneakers. You open your bedroom door and walk down the hall to the shared bathroom. Taerae is standing at the sink, lazily brushing his teeth.

You smile at him sleepily and he returns the gesture before spitting and exiting the bathroom. You take his place, brushing your teeth, washing your face and examining yourself in front of the mirror. You have to admit: for a convicted felon, you’re still pretty hot.

Not funny, you scold yourself as you walk out of the bathroom and down the hallway to the kitchen. You find Gyuvin at the table organizing a bunch of papers, photographs and flashdrives. Not this again...

“Oh, hey (Y/N)!” He greets with a grin as he scoops some noodles from a pot at the center of the table into an empty bowl for you. You sit down next to him and start to eat your breakfast. “Today’s the day. I think I finally have enough evidence for KBS to take the story!”

You sigh into your bowl of hot noodles. Gyuvin thinks every day is the day that someone will finally care about Total Control Music’s injustices. The reality is, you couldn’t even get your other group members to care. 

And you couldn’t really blame them. They were tired. Distraught. In financial ruin. On an indefinite hiatus because of a crime that you were convicted of. If you were them, you wouldn’t believe you either. 

“I think the video from the 2018 trainee showcase that I broke into President Kim’s assistant’s office to steal is really gonna sway their opinions once and--,” Gyuvin babbles excitedly as you begin to type something into your phone.

“Can you just stop!?” The AI voice on your phone interrupts. You know losing your patience won’t help the situation, but you continue to type anyway-- the AI screenreader vocalizing your words for you as you go. “I don’t need your help, Gyubin-ah! I never asked for it in the first place. Get a f*cking life and stop obsessing over mine.”

Gyuvin blinks back at you; hurt. It’s not an emotion you like to see on your best friend and it should be enough to make you instantly regret everything you just said. But you’re feeling stubborn this morning. And apologies always come out insincere when read by a robot anyway.

“No,” the taller boy says after looking down at his feet and then back up at you. “I won’t. You can lash out at me all you want. I’m still gonna help you.”

Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth as guilt starts to creep in.

“I’ll be home at 6,” he says coolly as he gathers his things and walks to the door; stepping outside and letting it slam shut behind him.

F*ck, you think. 

You feel a hand on your waist as someone scoots by you. It’s Hanbin. He’s almost glowing as happiness and fulfillment radiate off of him. Jerk.

“I’m off to work,” Hanbin says, pausing in the hallway and looking back at you. “I’ll be back late, okay? Can you make dinner for whoever’s here?”

Hanbin’s attention is caught by some dirty dishes that are sitting on the floor outside of Gunwook’s room. He shakes his head sadly, walking over and picking them up before placing them in the sink.

“Please, (Y/N)?” Hanbin asks, smiling at you hopefully. You roll your eyes as you agree with a reluctant smile. “See, you’re a good egg when I need you to be.”

You put your hands together in the shape of a heart and he grins, walking back towards the front door. 

“Stay hydrated today! See you tomorrow,” Hanbin calls over his shoulder as he heads out the door to his dance studio.

You look at your phone, checking the time. Sh*t, you think, as you find you only have twenty minutes left til you’re meant to report for duty. There’s two new messages in your inbox: one from Ricky and one from Matthew.

You only have time to answer one...

This is so exciting, Player! It’s time for your first mini-decision. These mini-decisions won’t affect the course of the story too much, but they will be an opportunity to earn points.  So, Player... Who would you like to respond to?

If you picked Ricky, read below...

You've received +1 Ricky Point for your choice of Ricky. Please add this point to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you picked Matthew, read below...

You've received +1 Matthew Point for your choice of Matthew. Please add this point to your score sheet.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

Continue Reading Here

You stuff your phone in your back pocket, throwing your bowl in the sink and grabbing your work gloves from your cubby in the hallway before heading out the door.

Crunch. 

Your grabber stick closes around a water bottle. It’s covered in a horrifically foul-smelling substance and you’re practically gagging at the stench. You pick it up and throw it into the big trash bag you’ve been lugging around for an hour now. You’ve filled six so far during your “shift”.

The sun is unforgiving on this mid June afternoon. It illuminates the reflector tape on your neon orange vest as you collect trash on the side of the highway. A big sign a few hundred feet ahead of you indicates that you’re on National Route 3 this afternoon. You hadn’t worked on this highway yet.

How charming that your new “job” allowed you to keep partaking in one of your favorite things about being an idol... Travel.

Making your way back to the police tent once your trash bag is full, you join the back of the line to hand in the garbage you’ve collected. You chew your cheek, examining the dirt on your shoes when a soft snickering coming from behind you catches your attention.

“That’s that idol. Isn’t it, hyung?” A male voice asks excitedly. “The one who was convicted of vehicular homicide?”

“Community service? Really?” Another voice huffs. “All I did was rob a corner store. Should I really be serving the same sentence as a murderer?”

It doesn’t bother you much anymore. This happens everywhere you go.

“I hear the President of Total Control bribed the judge for a lighter sentence,” a woman chimes in. “Rumor has it, they’ve even started preparing for a comeback.”

“No way,” the first man refutes. “Everyone sees right through ZeroTalentOne now. All the other members are just lucky they didn’t meet the same fate.”

The woman suddenly sighs dreamily. “That Zhang Hao could still take all my money, though.”

“He’s very good,” the older man agrees. “I saw him on a variety show last week. Did you know he’s classically trained on the violin? I hope he can get away from that garbage group once and for all...”

Your community service shift ends at 5 P.M. as it always does. You got your license back a month ago after 9 months of good behavior. Trading in your BMW for a less conspicuous car, you’ve been trying to get used to driving again. Unfortunately being wrongfully convicted of vehicular manslaughter didn’t exactly put you in a calm state of mind behind the wheel.

Only 13 more months of your sentencing. You could make it til then. Couldn’t you?

You’ve been walking around aimlessly for fifteen minutes after the bus dropped you back at the police station, trying to find where you parked your car. You reluctantly glance across the street at a large, nauseating building looming over you— it’s your company. A sign that reads “Total Control Music” shines from above the entrance and a few young girls are outside holding protest signs.

You sigh. It’s about time you just accept that you’re lost before you get yourself into a mess. Pulling out your phone, you scroll to find your navigation app-- thankful that you put a pin on the map where your car is parked. 

But something unfamiliar next to your navigation app catches your eye...

Huh? What the hell is that?

You press down on the app with your thumb, opting to move it to trash. Must be some weird virus...

But just as soon as the app is deleted, it reappears on your screen. MetaNav? Maybe it’s a new navigation app that your phone company is beta testing.

You shrug and tap the app to open it and figure out what it is.

“YOU ARE NOW EXITING THE REAL WORLD,” a robotic, feminine voice suddenly booms from your phone. “NAVIGATION SET FOR: THE METAVERSE. HAVE A SAFE TRIP.”

Oh sh*t, is all you have time to think before the world glitches around you. The air grows hazy and the buildings and vehicles in your line of sight begin to distort. 

You look back up at Total Control Music, expecting to see the girls outside screaming and running around in confusion and fear. But the sight you see instead is far stranger.

Where your company headquarters once stood, there is now a giant, golden castle in its place. 

You squint your eyes shut-- wondering if maybe that foul-smelling substance from earlier was toxic waste. That maybe your brain is turning to mush and projecting hallucinations before your inevitable death. 

Or that, maybe, you’ve just finally lost it...

You stare at the palace in front of you for a few moments. If it really is the end, you think... I might as well see it through.

Cautiously, you make your way across the street and up the grand steps of the castle. Your brow furrows suspiciously when you realize that the giant embellished doors are wide open. Like someone left them open just for you.

Don’t be ridiculous, you think; shaking your head annoyedly. This isn’t real. Just go inside, (Y/N).

Your body tenses as you step through the doors and into the castle. It’s unbelievably lavish-- marble pillars and red carpet lining the hall. You gasp as you turn your attention to the decorated walls.

They’re lined with guilded portraits of young, beautiful people. People you recognize. 

You walk up to one of the portraits to examine it more closely. It’s of a handsome young man-- a distinctive, broad grin on his face and cavernous dimples.

It’s Kim Taerae.

Dazed, you walk up to another portrait beside it; instantly recognizing the youthful glow of the young man to be your maknae— Han Yujin.

What is this place? 

Just then, a loud grunt comes from the other side of the hallway. Your eyes land on what appears to be a huge castle guard bumbling down the corridor. He’s wearing the armor of a knight but, as he gets closer, you realize he doesn’t have a face. Instead, black mist swirls in its place. He seems to be some sort of... Shadow.

“WHO GOES THERE?” The shadow guard shouts. For someone without eyes, he sees quite well. 

You blink at the guard; swallowing nervously as he bounds angrily towards you. It’s a good thing this is just a hallucination.

“I SAID, WHO DARES INVADE THE KING’S PALACE?” The shadow guard bellows as he grabs you by the arm. It hurts.

Five more shadow guards suddenly appear as the first one kicks the back of your knees, causing your legs to buckle. You fall to the ground as your free arm is now restrained behind your back as well.

“INVASION IS A CRIME PUNISHABLE BY DEATH,” one of the shadow guards announces. “YOU WILL NOW BE TRIED BY HIS MAJESTY, THE MAGNIFICENT KING KIM HYUNWOO!”

Your eyes widen at the name. Kim Hyunwoo?

President Kim Hyunwoo?

Adorned in a long, devastatingly garish red robe and golden crown, “King” Kim Hyunwoo enters the hall. The shadow guards bow to him furiously. As he approaches, your jaw drops.

It really is him. President of Total Control Music, Kim Hyunwoo. 

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been inside this palace. And, if I’m not mistaken, it should’ve been longer. Your banishment is far from up,” he says, smiling at you cruelly. “But tell me, (Y/N)-sshi, how have you been?”

You stare at him, dumbfounded.

“Oh, that’s right! You lost your voice. Silly me,” President Kim says with a laugh. “It’s not like anyone really cares about that though. It was never as good as my voice anyway.”

Perplexed, you frown. President Kim had been an idol once. He made a couple hit songs in the early 2000s and, after being unable to match his success, founded Total Control Music in 2010. ZeroBaseOne became the company’s only successful idol group when you debuted in 2019. It was assumed that, after everything, you would also be the last.

President Kim was a bit incompetent... A little eccentric at times... Hit on every woman he met just to be turned down... But the look you saw in his eyes now was one you’d never really seen before. It was sinister.

“If it weren’t for my accident--,” he starts and then corrects himself with a smirk, “I mean, your accident, I would’ve finally made enough money off of you to fund my comeback. Now I have to pretend to put all my efforts into that Hao kid and sell your intimate details to the media for extra cash. I suppose I should thank you for taking the fall. Though I guess you didn’t really have a choice, did you?”

Your lip quivers as you stare at him in horror. You can’t be hearing him right. That can’t be true. Did President Kim really frame you that night?

“It was so easy, (Y/N)-sshi,” President Kim hisses with an evil glee. “You and your members had already built your slightly questionable reputations on your own. All I had to do was wrap your fingers around the steering wheel. You couldn’t even stumble away fast enough before someone saw your face at the crime scene.”

Rage like you’ve never known is broiling underneath your skin. All this time... You’d fallen so painfully from grace. You watched your friends follow-- all of your lives and careers, destroyed.

 In the back of your head, you’d even started believing that maybe you’d really done it.

“And the loss of your voice was just a fun bonus,” President Kim says with a smirk. “I had planned to pay off some witnesses to negate your testimony in the courtroom, but how convenient it was when we found out you couldn’t even give one!”

Something in you snaps. A white hot flash blurs your vision as an unfamiliar voice suddenly echoes in your head; a sharp pain searing through you. 

Well, well, well... It took you long enough to grow a backbone, my friend. The name’s Arsène.

You grip the sides of your head, trying to make the voice stop.

I can help you fix this, my friend. You can finally seek retribution from the people who have wronged you. Are you going to let him get away with this?

I... I--...

The pain is so unbearable that you’ve almost gone completely numb. It’s coursing through your whole body, burning you from the inside out and remaking you in its own vision: your true vision. Suddenly, something is forming around your face and fusing to your skin -- a mask? 

Or are you finally going to stand up for yourself and take back what is yours? Come on, answer me! ANSWER ME!

꩜˖ ݁ 𖥔. “I AM!” .𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜

The frantic scream rips from your throat as you rip off the mask that has attached to your skin. You don’t even feel the pain.

The wound heals as soon as it's opened and a new mask sits delicately across your eyes. It’s suddenly clear to you: you are Arsène. Arsène is you. You are silent no more.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

You smile at President Kim, noticing a glint of fear in his eyes. 

“I’d like to make my testimony now.” ‧ ₊ ✫ ˚・

President Kim begins to back up before turning and sprinting out of the hall. The shadow guards lunge for you, but you reach out your hands to stop them. A heavy gust of wind flows from your fingertips; knocking the guards to the ground.

New Skill Unlocked: New Kid on the Block ˖꩜

You glance in the direction that President Kim took off, about to run after him when screeching sirens begin to sound. More shadow guards begin to appear and you’re afraid you’re outnumbered. You sprint to the doors instead, running through them and down the steps of the palace. You start to run to the other side of the street as two guards follow you down the steps. 

“F*ck, get me out of here!”

“GETTING YOU OUT OF HERE,” a robotic feminine voice announces from your back pocket. “RETURNING TO THE REAL WORLD. PLEASE VISIT AGAIN SOON.”

You stand still as the world distorts again, the air growing hazier and the objects around you shaking before finally returning to normal. Out of breath and scared sh*tless, you look back at the castle behind you...

To find the regular, plain-old Total Control Music building in its place.

“Holy sh*t,” you breathe out.

“Holy sh*t,” a voice says behind you. You turn around to find Gyuvin gawking at you; his jaw in danger of touching the floor. “Did you just... speak?”

⁺⋆✰ Chapter Choice ✰⋆⁺

Well, Player, you've reached the end of the chapter and your first chapter choice. Chapter choices won't always come at the end of the chapter-- they might be somewhere in the middle instead. You can enter your choice in the poll below if you like, but you don't have to! It's just there because your Game Master is curious as to what you'll pick. ;) Your choice will have consequences in the next chapter that may earn you points, so remember which option you picked so you can read the corresponding excerpt!

So, Player, will you choose to...

CHOICE 1: Lie to Gyuvin

OR

CHOICE 2: Tell Gyuvin the Truth

✰

Excellent! The story in question features the nine members of ZeroBaseOne (well, 10 actually; including you, dear Player!) and their journey both in the real world and the Metaverse to defeat a company that has taken advantage of them for years. But before we get too far into the plot, let me introduce myself. I'm Kara, aka jebewonmorelike and I'll be your Game Master. I'll check in with you at the beginning of every chapter to give you reminders, content warnings, and any miscellaneous info you might need.

Get it, got it, good, Player?

Perfect! I think we're gonna get along just fine.

I'm sure by now you've realized that this is no ordinary work of fanfiction. No, no. It's something a bit different. A bit special, even.

If you choose to continue reading, there's a few things you should know...

You're about to play a game -- a game that's story and ending depends on the choices you make along the way.

Sounds cool, right?

I know! I can't take all the credit, though. This fanfiction game is heavily-inspired by the JRPG game Persona 5. What is Persona 5 about? The great part is that, honestly, it doesn't really matter whether you've had experience with the game or not in order to play the game I've designed for you today...

Don't sweat it! I'm gonna explain everything you need to know right now and it's nothing you should find too complicated. How does that sound, Player?

Wonderful! I had a good feeling about you right from the very beginning, Player.

Our story is, of course, about a group called ZeroBaseOne... Or, well... To be more precise, it's a story about a group that used to be called ZeroBaseOne. A little over a year ago, some sh*t went down and turned their whole world upside down forever.

While all ages and genders are welcome to play this game (our OC is pronoun-free!), there might be some mature themes in this game. Nothing too crazy-- swearing, mild violence, angst, drinking, crime, some suggestive themes, and, above all, bringing justice to a company that mistreats its talent...

Are you okay with a PG-13+ rated game, Player?

Great! And, don't worry: there will be plenty of comedy, too. Comedy, to me, is essential to any plot. I think you're gonna really like this game! I hope. *Sigh*

Aw... Thank you, Player. I appreciate the reassurance. I've been second-guessing my writing for months now and--... Oh, sorry, back to the description of the game!

Like I was saying, ZeroBaseOne doesn't really look much like the one we know in real life. Instead, the members are a bit older, a bit more worn out and, honestly, having a pretty rough go of it at this point. And whose to blame for that?

You're so smart, Player! Of course it's their company. I'd like to just state quickly that this game is just that-- a game. Fictional; a story! No agencies or people in this game are representative of real life things. Especially not their fictional company. *Bombastic side-eye*.

So why did I decide to make this game? Well, we all love reading fanfiction. But wouldn't it be even more fun if the reader had a say in the story? If the reader's choices led to the creation of their own specially-crafted fanfiction just for them?

Maybe, by now, you're wondering just what exactly are you playing this game to win? Well it's what almost everybody wants a shot at in life... Love. Throughout this game, you will make decisions that will give you points towards different group members. Keep track of your score and, at the end of the game, the member who you've earned the most points for will determine your ending (and your love interest).

All game resources will be listed in the description of each chapter, at the top and bottom of this introductory post, and on the Steal Your Heart masterlist. There will be many opportunities to interact with this game and it will include a lot of hand-edited graphics to look at it! I hope you enjoy them, as I've planned them quite tediously.

I wish I could accept the compliment, but alas... I am no angel. I'm just your Game Master. Feeding you the story, presenting you with choices...

It's up to you, Player, to make the story that you want.

Alright-- enough small talk! I think you're more than ready to get started with our game.

So, what do you say, Player?

Are you ready to begin a game where, as a member of ZeroBaseOne, you lead your group members to gain back their inner strength, develop magical powers and defeat the company that has ruined your lives for far too long-- and find love along the way?

Then by all means, Player...

Please Select From The Chapter Menu Below:

Part One ☾⋆⁺₊✧ The Fool ✩₊˚.⋆ The Beginning

Part Two ✩₊˚.⋆ Chariot ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Kim Gyuvin

Part Three ☾⋆⁺₊✧ The Lovers ✩₊˚.⋆ Kim Jiwoong

Part Four ✩₊˚.⋆ The Magician ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Han Yujin

Part Five ☾⋆⁺₊✧ The Emperor ✩₊˚.⋆ Shen Ricky

Part Six ✩₊˚.⋆ Justice ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Seok Matthew

Part Seven ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Faith ✩₊˚.⋆ Kim Taerae

Part Eight ✩₊˚.⋆ The Hermit ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Park Gunwook

Part Nine ☾⋆⁺₊✧ The Empress ✩₊˚.⋆ Sung Hanbin

Part Ten ✩₊˚.⋆ The Priestess ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Zhang Hao

Part Eleven ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ The Finale