to broaden a reader’s world.

In all his life that he’d known Kim Sooah, there had never been a scenario where she hadn’t shown him a good time. Whether it was the first party with the popular kids she’d invited him to, the first drink she’d peer pressured him into drinking (and later apologised for after he’d regained consciousness), or even when she’d smuggled in alcohol to the first Big Hit party after they’d become a group - Kim Sooah knew how to crank it up.

Therefore, when she convinces him to meet her after an evening shoot instead of going home, despite how tired he is, Jimin can’t help but oblige.

He reaches the spot she’d texted him and looks around, frowning when he only sees a half-empty parking lot with a couple of dim street lamps. Fishing out his phone, he scrolls to his chat with her.

“Hey!”

Jimin almost jumps out of his skin and his phone tumbles out of his hand. “Shit!” he gasps, catching his phone just before it hits the ground and turning around, heart racing. “What is wrong with you?”

Sooah grins, head and shoulders popping out of the silver car right behind him. “How come you didn’t recognise my car?” she demands, resting her forearms on the window.

“Because it’s… silver. Like every other car here,” he answers, turning around on the spot to make his point. “Why are you…” He looks at the entire image, including the deserted parking lot “... lurking?”

“I was waiting for you,” she explains, opening the door and stepping out. “You really couldn’t tell it was my car?” she repeats, sounding hurt.

“No! Of course I could,” he corrects himself, knowing how proud Sooah was of her brand new second-hand car. “I just… forgot. I would’ve recognised it if I’d seen the inside,” he adds immediately, laughing when she glares at him. 

This car was her baby, as she put it, her first big adult purchase. Jimin had tried his best to persuade her to just let him buy her a car but she wouldn’t hear of it. After over a week of searching, budgeting and arguments that always ended in one or both of them sulking, they had compromised on Sooah buying the car and Jimin paying to upholster and redo the interiors.

Now, gesturing to the plush, beige faux leather seats, Sooah turns to him. “I have a plan for tonight and you are going to love it,” she declares. 

Behind her, Jimin can see two bags of burgers, fries and diet coke on the seat, along with a folded blanket, and he understands. “Oh, are we throwing it back to the Incheon highway night again?” he asks fondly, placing an arm around her shoulders and squeezing affectionately. “Maybe this time you won’t slip off the bonnet.”

Sooah slaps his torso lightly. “No, but remind me of that again. No, it’s a different plan - I’m throwing it way back.” She smiles up at him, with a little too much knowing.

Jimin returns it, a little uneasily. “Uh, okay… is it the time we had sex in the backseat of my car twice in the same night? Because I gotta tell you, I think we’re committed enough to do that indoors.”

“Further back, Park Jimin.”

“I give up. Are you going to tell me? Or are you driving me?”

“I could… but we’re already here.” 

Jimin looks around again. “You have to give me more of a hint, baby. Do you even have a plan? Or are you just making it up as we go along?” he asks kindly. “Because this is the road down to our high school and I don’t think we’ve ever -” He stops abruptly, noticing Sooah’s growing, brilliant smile. “No.”

“Oh, yes.”

“We cannot sneak into our high school!” Jimin hisses, looking around in half a panic. “We could get in trouble! We could -”

“What? Get detention?” Sooah shakes her head and grabs bags of food while he sputters. “You perform in front of thousands on five hundred calories, Park Jimin. This is should be a piece of cake.”

Ignoring his feeble protests, she begins walking towards the school, turning only to give him the same blazing smile again, lips red and hair shiny. “Trust me, Jimin.”

Trust me, Jimin. A seventeen year old Sooah had said the same thing, hair in a high ponytail and spiky fringe covering her forehead, as she handed him a pastel pink cocktail in a plastic glass. She was so incredible, so confident and beautiful and exciting, that seventeen year old Park Jimin had taken a deep breath, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and drunk the cocktail without objection.

“Only because you’re you, Kim Sooah,” he mutters, jogging up to catch up to her as she laughs in delight. “I suppose you have a better way for us to get in that isn’t the front gate?”

As it happens, she does. Meandering through a stealthy route including a space in between the boundary walls, a door with a broken lock and several thickets of bushes where they have to walk crouched, they finally enter the building. 

“Is this -” Jimin follows her as she opens a door and saunters inside. “God, you are cheesier than you pretend to be, jagiya.”

Sooah makes a face but smiles anyway, backing into the chemistry lab and hitching herself up on one of the tables. “I wanted to bring you back to the beginning, to remind you of what you have here,” she says simply. “Before you leave and forget about all the things you left back home.”

“Oh, you mean like all the hot chicks I’m sure to run into in the army?” he says sarcastically, taking off his jacket and joining her. It’s nothing but the moonlight streaming in from one of the windows, but it’s more than enough. “I’ll be sure to tell them all about my first kiss with the Kim Sooah in the chem lab.”

“You better,” she says, sliding off the table she was sitting on to stand before him where he’s leaning backwards against the opposite table. “In fact, you can tell them about everything else you’re going to do in the chem lab as well,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.

Jimin kisses her back eagerly, tugging her close to him. Her lips are plush and taste of cranberries, and her tongue is warm and teasing. Her hands slide up his t-shirt and a pleasurable shiver goes up his spine at the feel of her palms flat on his torso, running confidently over the muscles still activated from his rehearsal.

She sighs into his mouth and his body reacts; he helps her slip her jacket off and brings a hand to her breasts, squeezing them gently while she moans in response, biting his lip when he tugs her thin top down and brushes his thumbs over her nipple. 

“This is the kind of thing you were talking about?” he whispers in her ear, before kissing her neck below. “Because I don’t think anyone has done anything like this in the chem lab before.”

“Probably,” she agrees in a sigh. Slipping her hands out from underneath his t-shirt, she reaches for his hand and brings it down to between her legs. “We can be the first,” she says, eyes squeezing shut when he squeezes her cunt through her jeans.

Deftly undoing the button of her jeans and unzipping them, Jimin slides his hand down over her underwear, feeling himself harden even more when he feels the warm, damp cloth. “Can’t believe you’re mine, Kim Sooah,” he murmurs, loving her so much as he gently turns her around and slips his hand into her underwear, one finger entering her. 

Sooah bites her lip and moans in pleasure, pressing her back to his chest and kissing his cheek. “Mhm,” she hums when he adds another finger and massages her clit, strokes tender but firm. His other hand goes up her body again, squeezing her hips, her waist, her breasts and rubbing her core as he holds her close, not stopping until she cums.

Jimin lowers his head and tugs the sleeve of her top down her shoulder slightly, kissing the exposed skin as he retrieves his fingers. He’s painfully hard in his track pants, he acknowledges as Sooah turns around in his arms, looking deliciously ruffled. Wordlessly, she kisses him - and as if having read his thoughts, her hand snakes up his thigh to palm his crotch. 

“Your turn,” she whispers sweetly against his lips, before lowering herself to her knees.

“Damn,” says Jimin after a while, stretching out on the chair and stretching his legs out on the desk in front of him. “I can’t believe I just got a blowjob from the Kim Sooah in the chem lab. I’d high-five my fifteen-year-old self if I could. You know what -” He slaps one hand with the other. 

Sooah leaning against a windowsill with the moonlight giving her a pale, otherworldly glow, laughs and chucks a fry at him. “I definitely like this more than when Hyeri and Sol and I snuck in to smoke behind the football field. And I think I should be the one saying I hooked up with the Park Jimin. That’s the one that will really grab headlines.” 

“That’ll be a hell of a headline.”

“Oh, speaking of -” She takes a sip of Diet Coke and raises her eyebrows. “You might want to tell Tae to cool it with the home videos with his girlfriend accidentally-on-purpose in the reflections. Twitter is starting to figure out that an adult man may be having intimate relations with a woman.”

Jimin, still reeling from the fact that this isn’t the first time Sooah has snuck into their old high school, frowns belatedly. “What do you mean? How do you know?”

“I obviously have Google alerts on all your names,” she says nonchalantly.

“Obviously,” he repeats.

“I like seeing how fans are thirsting over my boyfriend,” she says simply, smiling when Jimin grins involuntarily, his cheeks getting hot. “Chae was actually the first one to do it. She was paranoid that her brother would see something about Hobi online and, like, guess that they were banging or something. She’s an angel, but I swear to god, it’s almost like she needs something to worry about all the time. Either it’s this, or her skincare, or that the shop is out of almonds so she can’t make her morning smoothie with the exact correct ingredients as this one Instagram reel she found.” She rolls her eyes. “This morning, she texted me to ask the longest I’ve gone without doing yoga and if that impacted my flexibility any.”

“So in other words, you miss her.”

Sooah laughs. “Guilty as charged,” she answers honestly. “I’m hoping I can just continue affording rent and utilities by myself until she returns so I don’t have to get another flatmate. Unless she decides she likes Dilara more than me and decides to just stay in London,” she adds dramatically.

Jimin gives her a look. “First of all, Dilara is in Seoul right now. And I’m getting a bit insecure here that you might miss Chae more than you’ll miss me.”

“Never. Why do you think I planned this tonight?” She gestures to the dark chem lab, swinging her legs off the windowsill to face him. “We don’t have a lot of time and this…” She shakes her head, a fond smile appearing on her face. “This is one thing off the bucket list.”

“Bucket list?” Jimin frowns. “Sooah, I’m not dying.”

“No… but I guess I didn’t think I’d have to deal with seeing you leave.” She shrugs, her smile fading a bit. “You know, we were - what? Twenty-one when we last broke up? It was too much to imagine that we’d somehow make it to almost thirty, together, to seeing you off -” She breaks off when he gasps. “I just mean - it’s not in a bad way,” she adds quickly. “It’s not like I didn’t have faith - I just didn’t want to let myself hope.”

“Not that,” Jimin exclaims, jaw dropping. “You just called me thirty!”

“What - I said almost thirty. And you are almost -”

“If I’m thirty, then so are you,” he shoots back, crossing his arms across his chest.

Sooah scoffs. “Actually, my birthday is after yours.”

“Ooh, I’m Kim Sooah and I follow the international age system,” he mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes and diving for another fry. “I can’t believe you would say that to me. And it could be the last thing I ever hear from you before I leave - how does that make you feel?”

“I don’t know. I guess you’ll find out when you come back for a break.” Sooah dodges the playful flick Jimin aims at her temple and brings their clasped hands down. “Haven’t your friends already come back for at least one? No, wait, Seokjin has,” she remembers. “What about Yoongi? Have you talked to him at all?”

“You mean since he just up and left without a word to any of us?” Jimin shakes his head, feeling his mood sour at the memory. Everything had changed after that one farewell party. He can’t imagine what Yoongi might have seen or who he might have talked to, but after that night he had shut down completely. The rest of them had got exactly one message from the company saying Yoongi’s departure would not be filmed, and that was that. “I’m not holding my breath,” he mutters.

“It doesn’t really sound like him, though, does it?” Sooah ventures, tilting her head and squeezing his hand. “Actually, maybe it does?” she guesses after a pause.

“I don’t know. God, I’m gonna kick his ass the next time I see him,” Jimin says, recalling how his phone calls had gone unanswered before he’d remembered that Yoongi wouldn’t have his phone for the first few weeks. “Yeah, and I’m going to assemble a team to join me. Not Jungkook - he’ll just cry. But Tae - Tae will be pissed. Maybe Namjoon, too.”

As he says it, something occurs to him. Going by the look on Sooah’s face, it seems to have occurred to her, too. “Namjoon having no idea why Yoongi left seems unlikely,” she states evenly. “But you know them better.”

She’s right. “I’ll talk to Namjoon. I’ll force him to tell me what he knows,” he says with conviction. “With my words, not my hands,” he adds when Sooah raises her eyebrows. “Now that he’s working out again, he’s built like a tank.”

He’s not wrong; in fact, in the dim lighting of the bar that Jimin meets him in an hour later, with an oversized hoodie and hunched over something at a corner table, Namjoon looks more like a gigantic muscled boulder than ever. Jimin makes his way over to the table, bopping his head to the low R&B music playing on the speakers. The leader looks up just as Jimin reaches him, his phone on the table and lit up to what looks like a voice note.

“What are you -”

But Namjoon simply points to his phone and increases the volume, looking amused. Jimin frowns and leans forward, hearing what sounds like shouts and screams and laughter. After a few seconds of bemusement, Namjoon finally provides context.

“Kaya went out partying with her friends last night,” he explains, “and at some point accidentally left a voice note recording while she was out. So now I have about -”He checks his phone “- twenty-four minutes of a night out in Amsterdam by a bunch of students who leave the library twice a year.”

Jimin chuckles. “Kaya parties?”

“More than you think,” he answers, bringing the phone closer to them. Jimin leans even closer, now able to discern Kaya’s voice through the laughter, interspersed with at least three or four other equally drunk voices.

“- can’t even see it! Stop - oh God -” There’s laughter and screaming, followed by music getting turned on in the background. “- looking for Andrew and he’s not here with the tequila yet. Wait what? Where? The tequila’s here - shots!” A chorus of shots, shots, shots comes through the speaker, followed by the music getting louder and the piercing sound of an electric guitar drowning them all out.

“Pour some sugar on me!” Kaya shouted in a sing-songy voice, followed by a bunch of other voices cheering, laughing and singing along to an English rock song, everyone clearly drunk on tequila among other things.

“Future mother of my children,” says Namjoon proudly, pointing at the phone. He pauses the voice note and places the phone down. “I’ll listen to the rest at home. What’ve you been up to?”

“Had rehearsal, hung out with Sooah - the ush. Hey, speaking of which - what’s the deal with Yoongi hyung just ghosting the hell out of us and disappearing into the barracks?” Jimin says everything in one breath.

Namjoon blinks. “Wow, I did not see that coming.”

“So you do know something.”

The leader raises his eyebrows and shrugs innocently, all while Jimin muses at how terrible Namjoon is at lying. “I’ve already told you everything I know. We’ve talked about this, Jimin,” he says, giving him a look and pulling his beer closer to him.

“No,” says Jimin at once, having expected this. “No, we haven’t. We all wondered on the group chat, and then you said to give him space. And right now, I can’t remember why we didn’t double down on that.”

Namjoon sighs. “Look, I - I really don’t know what to tell you. If you’re asking if I know why he left without a word, I genuinely don’t know because he left without a word to all of us.”

“Yeah, but you don’t seem as concerned as we do,” points out Jimin, reaching for the beer without permission.

Namjoon watches him take a sip of the beer, looking contemplative. “I’m not… not concerned. I just know him and I know that we’re not going to get a word out of him until he wants to reach out. So there’s no point pushing him.”

“Because you know him,” repeats Jimin, waiting for Namjoon to nod. “Because you guys rapped together before any of us were BTS lived together for thirteen years?"

“Yes,” Namjoon answers deliberately, snatching his beer back. “And that’s why I’m advising you - let it go. He’s fine - he said so himself when I asked.” Too late, he seems to realise what he said.

Jimin pounces. “A-ha! I knew it!” He slams his palm on the table. “When did you ask him and what did he say?”

“It was before he left! I - I didn’t - I mean, I don’t know why -” Namjoon breaks off and sighs. “It was a few days before his farewell and he looked… not okay.”

“In what way?”

“In a… physical way, I guess? He sounded normal but he… kind of looked like he’d been mugged.”

Jimin frowns, something occurring to him. “The bruise on his face? I knew it,” he breathes, sitting back and running his hands through his hair, recalling the fading blue spot he’d seen on Yoongi’s face right before they were to film a dance challenge at the studio. “He told me he got that because he fell. He got mugged?”

“I said he looked like he’d been mugged,” Namjoon corrects him quickly. “I genuinely have no idea how he got hurt and he refused to tell me. Kept saying he was fine and that he already had a good concealer in his bathroom.” He shrugs and rolls his eyes. “And he also asked me not to tell anyone,” he adds deliberately.

Jimin shakes his head. “This is crazy,” he mutters. “What could have happened that made him just disappear?” He looks up to see Namjoon frowning at nothing in particular. “What?”

“I just remembered…” He trails off before looking up at Jimin. “I just remembered that we haven’t checked with the last person he spoke to. She has to know something…” He muttered, reaching for his phone and presumably messaging the aforementioned person. “God, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. If anyone knows something, it’s her.”

Jimin is about to ask the obvious, when something at the bar catches his eye. “Is that… Taehyung?”

Namjoon looks up and frowns. “Yeah. Isn’t that why you’re here? I thought he called you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I’m here because you’re here. He called you and asked you to come?” Jimin asks, craning his neck to watch his friend order a drink, his elbows on the bar and head bent low. “What kind of sad ass hangout is this?”

Namjoon chuckles and goes back to his text. “He didn’t invite me. At least I don’t think he did. I invited myself.”

“Classy, hyung.”

“He called me and said something about getting out of the house and getting a drink. Asked me for recommendations or something…” Namjoon shakes his head. “He sounded weird. And we can’t afford anything public right now, not so close before we all leave… so, yeah, I guess I’m just staying close.”

Jimin stares. “Weird how?”

Namjoon gives him a look. “I’m dealing with Yoongi,” he reminds him, holding up his phone. “Why don’t you deal with Taehyung?”

Holding his hands up and sliding out of the booth, Jimin jogs down the staircase towards the bar, pulling his cap lower over his head as he does. Despite this place being one of the few upscale bars in Seoul where celebrities have known to be able to hang out without being disturbed, Jimin keeps caution.

“Taehyung?” Jimin stops next to him and tilts his head to get a look at his friend’s face. “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung only points to the bartender in response who, on cue, places a tumbler of whiskey in front of him. The smell almost makes Jimin gag, but Taehyung takes a sip without flinching. “Smooth,” he murmurs, placing the glass back down.

Jimin frowns and takes a seat next to him. “Taehyung,” he tries again, giving him a gentle shake on the shoulder.

At this, Taehyung looks up at Jimin, his eyes slightly unfocused, as though just realising he’s there. His hair had grown longer in the last couple of weeks since Jimin has seen him; they fall into his eyes elegantly and effortlessly, his eyes heavily-lidded under them. Still so handsome, Jimin thinks off-handedly.

“Hey.” Taehyung speak finally, as though the word took him some effort. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just came to meet Namjoon hyung, to ask him about… never mind.” Somehow, Jimin did not think Taehyung would be very useful right now in deducing Yoongi’s intentions. “Um, are you okay?”

Taehyung simply holds up his glass and takes a bigger sip. “Have a drink with me.” Before Jimin can respond, he’s already calling the bartender over. “One vodka with cranberry juice, please.” The bartender gives Jimin a glance, who nods in confirmation, before moving away to make the drink.

“How come you’re here?” Jimin asks lightly, hoping the question is open-ended enough for Taehyung to spare details, for Namjoon was right: Taehyung is certainly… off. 

Taehyung raises his eyebrows. “Oh, no reason, really. Felt like a drink, that’s all.” He blinks and for a moment his eyes look red, like he hasn’t slept. “What’s going on with you?”

“Um… I was with Sooah just now. She says hi,” he adds, not recalling if she had said anything of the sort, but it seemed like the normal thing to say.

Taehyung cracks a half-smile, his gaze going back to his drink. “Date night, huh?”

“Something like that. We, uh… oh, we actually snuck into our school. Remember the chem lab?” he says, hoping to get some life into this conversation for something is wrong. “Choi Han and that jackass Daehyun had an arm wrestling match in there and knocked over that bunsen burner?”

Taehyung’s hollow smile widens just a sliver. “Hyeri’s skirt caught fire. The whole class got punished for that.”

Jimin chuckles at the memory as well, remembering a time when they were all skin and bones, with pudgy cheeks and high school crushes on the popular girls. His drink arrives then, a calming shade of red-pink, and he clinks his glass with Taehyung’s before taking a sip. “Wow,” he mutters, shaking his head as the liquor burns his insides. “How’s your night going? Isn’t Dilara here?”

“Do you remember that one team we worked with for some performance, where we had to do three sound checks before we could get on stage?” Taehyung asks as though he hasn’t even heard Jimin. His eyebrows are scrunched together; he looks incredibly handsome, Jimin thinks, momentarily sidetracked. “They always had these long calls before any decision and even Namjoon was pissed off with them. What comeback was that for?”

What? Jimin hesitates, then plays along. “Um… I’m not sure. Where was it?”

“Here,” he answers, sounding more engaged than he has so far, although his eyes are definitely red. “We were wearing… black. The jackets and those gold high-top sneakers.”

“Telepathy?” Jimin guesses. “It was in Yeongam, in the summer.”

“Yes!” Taehyung’s forehead clears and he purses his lips in what could be a pained smile. He claps Jimin on the shoulder and gestures for another drink as he finishes his first one. This one arrives immediately and Taehyung drags it towards him, taking a sip. Jimin watches as he places the glass back down and his shoulders fall again, as though this conversation has sapped him of all energy.

He’s about to ask when he sees movement and looks up to see a woman approaching them. Blond, possibly part foreign and about their age, she stops next to Taehyung. When he doesn’t look up, she locks eyes with Jimin.

“Hi,” she says in English, giving him a small wave. “Me and my friends are just over there -” She points vaguely behind her at a table where two or three other girls are standing around a table and dancing to the R&B track playing, close to where other patrons are also dancing. “We were wondering if you’d like to join us? For a drink and maybe a dance?”

From her tone, Jimin can’t immediately tell if she recognises them. When her eyes dart between him and Taehyung, who still hasn’t looked up from his drink, Jimin decides she doesn’t. She’s very pretty, but it’s with some pride that Jimin shakes his head apologetically. “I have a girlfriend. So does he,” he answers preemptively. “But thank you,” he adds to be polite.

The girl’s smile falls slightly but she nods. “Alright, no worries. Have a good night.” She places a hand on Taehyung’s arm until he looks up, as though just registering something happening. With a small squeeze, she drops her hand and walks away.

“Good to know we’ve still got it,” says Jimin dryly, chugging another fourth of his drink, cold and sweet. “Does it make me conceited to say I’ll kind of miss the attention when we go in? Not all of it, of course - but sometimes it’s nice, don’t you think? People appreciating you on the streets, knowing you’ve…” He shakes his head with feeling and clenches his fist while taking another sip and feeling his head swim pleasantly. “... really done something, impacted someone with your art - hey, where are you going?”

Taehyung, who’s already hopped off his chair with his drink in his hand, turns to look back at him. “I’m just…” His eyes dart around randomly and he blinks rapidly a few times, swallowing. “I was…”

His eyes are definitely red; for a wild moment, Jimin wonders if he’s on something. “Taehyung…” Jimin hops off his own seat and steps toward his friend, squinting. “Are you okay?”

Taehyung stares at Jimin, breathing very slowly and deeply. He’s biting his lip and when his eyes flicker, he looks like he’s about to cry. But the moment passes as quickly as it appeared and he downs the last of his whiskey. “I need a pick-me-up,” he mutters, pointing vaguely behind him. Before Jimin can respond, he places his glass on the bar and drifts into the area where people are dancing.

“What just happened?” Jimin asks no one. Something is definitely wrong - and if Jimin knows his friend, this is either an enlistment issue or a Dilara issue or both. He cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of his friend but instead sees the girl who had approached them earlier, and an ancient fear grips at his heart.

No, says a voice firmly in his head. He wouldn’t, not again. He makes his way through the dancing crowd which seems to have doubled in the last five minutes, keeping his head low so as to not be spotted. He doesn’t catch sight of Taehyung until he’s almost at the end of the bar and he spots him through the window in the alley outside, head ducked low, shaggy hair covering his face and only the bright flaming tip of the cigarette giving him any indication of what was happening.

When he reaches Namjoon, who’s still sitting in the same booth and scrolling through his Instagram, he stays standing. “I’m tagging you in,” he says, tapping him on the shoulder.

Namjoon looks up. “What happened?”

“He’s smoking outside, and smokers need the company of other smokers. You know, not people who do care about their lungs,” Jimin quips, dodging Namjoon’s playful punch.

“I can only take crap about that from so many people, so unless I’m related to you by blood or sleeping with you, you don’t get to lecture me,” he tells Jimin, standing up and sliding out of the booth.

Jimin grins and flicks his hair. “Just name the time and place, handsome,” he shoots back, laughing when Namjoon gives him a startled look. “Oh, relax. I prefer my dates petite and yoga-fit. You know, the type to sneak into educational institutions to smoke up.”

Namjoon gives him a confused frown but evidently decides he doesn’t want to know. “I’ll take care of Taehyung… and I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, thanks. Wait - what about Yoongi hyung?”

He holds up his phone as he walks backwards. “I’ve dropped the text. Just have to wait and see now. Don’t worry about it. Go home to your girlfriend, Jimin,” he says good-naturedly, in a way that makes Jimin momentarily sad for him. “One of us should.”

—

The cool evening breeze hits her face and she breathes in deeply. After being holed up indoors for at least the last ten hours, fresh air feels like an underrated privilege. She sips on her iced coffee, knowing she’s in for a long night of work. 

Her phone pings and she grabs it with haste, heart slowing when she sees a group text from her boss. Any minute now, she thinks, for the call she’s expecting is very unlikely to be late. As if on cue, her phone rings and she sees a familiar name flash on her screen. Heart stuttering slightly, she answers.

“Hey,” she says, taking a sip of coffee to calm her nerves. And why am I so nervous?

“Hey.” Seokjin sounds almost breathless, like he’s been running. “Thanks for taking my call. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Nari frowns curiously. “Oh, you’re absolutely disturbing me. So much so that I think I’m going to have to hang up if this isn’t worth my time.”

There’s a pause, then he chuckles. “Duly noted. I’ll try to make it worth your time. Actually, you might have to make it worth my time,” he corrects, then immediately backtracks. “Not - not worth my time, but… I don’t know, I think you might be the only one able to help us make sense of some stuff right now.”

Nari nods, taking a seat on a bench outside the hospital. “You said it was to do with Yoongi?”

“Yeah… Namjoon says you were the last person - probably - to talk to him before he left?”

“I don’t know about last, but…” She recalls the cryptic text she’d received from him all those weeks ago, the one she’d considered for a moment as being some strange joke but had then decided was probably genuine. “Yeah, I did meet him a couple times before he left. Did he really not tell you?”

“Looks like the only person he told was Namjoon,” he says, but Nari doesn’t detect any resentment in the statement. “Or at any rate, Namjoon knew… and I’ve been elected to follow up because… well, because it’s you. It’s not like Yoongi to leave like this,” he says after a moment.

Nari nods. She’s glad he didn’t beat around why he was the obvious choice to speak with her - it feels less like he’s been pushed into it. “What do you want to know?”

Seokjin sighs, sounding tired. “I guess… when did you meet him? What did you talk about?”

She winces, knowing that any information she has will sound like cause for alarm. “Okay… just know that I did advise him to tell you guys, but -”

“He’s Yoongi,” they finish together.

“Yeah.” Nari bites her lip, wishing suddenly that they were having this conversation in person. It had been too long since the last time they spoke. From inside the hospital, at the entrance, Jason and Daeun wave at her. She holds up a finger before turning away.

“Um… okay, so I got a text from him - I guess it was about a week before he left? And all he said was that he needed some medical advice but couldn’t quite come to the hospital because he didn’t want to be recognised. It was weird but I went and…” The image of his bruised face had made her stomach fall; despite seeing worse on a daily basis, seeing someone she knew look like that had been different.

“Okay, Nari, you’re making it sound really bad.” Seokjin interrupts her memory. “Should I be worried?”

“No,” she says immediately. “I mean… I don’t know, Jinnie, he asked me not to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, but I’m not anyone,” he says at once. “So? Come on. Tell me.”

I’m not anyone. That, combined with her slip of tongue with Jinnie, almost makes it feel like they’re still friends, like before. It spurs her on, her stomach flipping faintly.

“Okay, but… try not to tell anyone else, okay? He had a - a bit of a black eye. And some bruising on his chest,” she adds, powering through Seokjin’s exclamation.

“A black eye? Like someone punched him?”

“Almost definitely,” she confirms, somewhat relieved that she’s finally able to tell someone. Yoongi had been adamant at keeping it between them, requesting her for only her medical advice in case he had any broken bones. “And a few bruised ribs. He basically wanted to know if he had to go to a hospital or if he could take care of it by himself. I advised him, very strongly, to go to a damn hospital and get an x-ray in any case but he wouldn’t hear of it,” she adds firmly.

“And he didn’t listen, obviously.” Seokjin exhales heavily. “Jesus Christ. Did he really not need a hospital, though? I mean… is he okay, do you think?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” she confirms, nodding. “His face would be fine with a few days of icing and his ribs were definitely not broken. And I did check in on him the day before he left and both injuries were a lot better.”

“Okay,” he replies uncertainly. “I mean… God, I don’t even know where to start. Why didn’t he tell us?”

“Well, I think Namjoon may have known because Yoongi referred to him a couple times,” she points out. “But other than that… I don’t know. I mean, my guess is that he didn’t want to worry you or get the company involved? He really didn’t seem to want to talk about it.” Ironically, that made me the best person to call.

Seokjin seems to be on the same train of thought. “Well, he certainly achieved that. He doesn’t even have his phone for a couple more weeks,” he adds, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“I really do think he’s okay,” she ventures. “Physically, at least. Other than that… just a guess, but this had something to do with a girl.”

“What girl?” Seokjin asks automatically, but the answer seems to dawn on him almost immediately. “Oh. From that night?”

Nari nods. “Best date of my life,” she confirms wryly. “But, yeah. There is no way that was a one-night thing. I don’t know how it panned out, but the way he looked on the last day… he looked heartbroken, Seokjin.”

Seokjin sighs, but doesn’t respond. Nari waits, allowing him to digest this. She’s almost certain she’s right - that girl she had caught Yoongi kissing in a coat closet, right before storming out and being stopped by Seokjin, almost confessing things that could have changed everything… She squeezes her eyes shut.

“I won’t tell,” he says, after almost a minute. “Not if Yoongi didn’t want to tell us.”

That surprises her. “That’s… mature of you. Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, sounding troubled. “I can’t promise I won’t regret it later, but…”

“It’s Yoongi,” they say together, again.

Nari bites back a half-smile. The words had been on the tip of her tongue that night, her face and her heart in his hands. “How are you doing?” she asks softly.

He takes a beat before answering. “Same old,” he answers, his voice lowering a bit. “Not counting down the days as desperately as I was at the beginning.”

“Sounds like progress. You can scratch it out on the wall of your dorm room like in Shawshank.”

“And dig my way out? I’ll get discharged way before that happens.”

“Won’t be as exciting, though,” she teases, glad when he chuckles in agreement. “Seriously, though. You’re doing okay?”

“Yeah, of course I am,” he says easily. It sounds believable but she can’t be sure because he sounds so… grown. It’s Seokjin - and it’s her Seokjin, too - but he’s just out of reach. She doesn’t know him as well as she once did - the thought makes her deeply sad.

You aren’t asking me to wait for you, but that’s what you want, she’d guessed correctly, the last time they had met. And I didn’t, says a different voice, but you knew that.

“Seokjin,” she begins, tentatively, then pauses. This shouldn’t be so hard. “I don’t want you to find out through someone else, but… I’m - I’m kind of dating someone.” When he doesn’t immediately respond, she continues, not wanting to lose her momentum. “It was already testing the waters, I guess, back when we last… met.” She remembers the kiss, and his confession after. “And now it’s… yeah.”

“A relationship.” He says the word she couldn’t. “Nari… it’s fine. I figured as much.” It’s there again, the voice that makes him sound so much older, so grown. “Jason?” He asks lightly.

“Mhm.” She picks on a loose thread at the seam of her scrubs. “It just happened. And the pressure from my mom is kind of at an all-time high right now, so… anyway. I thought you should know.”

Seokjin doesn’t answer right away and Nari suddenly wishes she hadn’t said anything about her mother. It wasn’t news to him - in fact, if there was anyone in the world who knew the extent and the exact kind of pressure her mother put on her regarding this, it was Seokjin.

But it’s real now, the pressure and what it might lead to. Nari wishes she could share her trepidation with Seokjin, that she suspected Jason would propose and she would say no - or worse, that she would say yes and never know if she fully meant it.

“You’re happy, though?” 

Nari’s eyes sting. She grips the coffee cup, the condensation pooling around her fingers. “He’s a good guy. You’ve met him,” she reminds him softly. “He’s kind and he makes me laugh.” And my heart doesn’t hurt when I’m around him. That had been the primary thing about Jason when they had started dating: how easy it had been. Nari had almost forgotten what normal attraction could feel like without missed opportunities and words lost in translation.

“That’s good. I’m glad…” Here he trails off.

Nari tries to guess. I’m glad you’re happy? I’m glad you told me?

“... you got what you wanted.” There’s silence at the other end for a moment. “I’m gladdest for your mom, though.”

That makes Nari laugh unexpectedly. “No kidding. She was convinced I’d die a spinster. And then she would die of shame.”

“Like that one time she thought you were a lesbian because you said you were going on your graduation trip with your college roommate?”

“Yunjin,” she remembers, shaking her head. “I really thought her brain would explode right there.”

“That’s a lot of pressure on Jason, if nothing else. Fun story for the wedding toast, though.”

Nari bites her lip. She’s too old to never have pictured it. A white dress, candles, a groom in black. It looms, and she knows Seokjin knows. Of course he knows.

“I don’t think we’re there just yet,” she says quietly. 

“All in good time. He’d be a fool to wait too long, though, I suppose.”

Damn you, Kim Seokjin. “Will you come, do you think?” she asks lightly, partly in humour. She doesn’t need to specify where.

“If you want me to,” he replies, in a way that makes her heart clench. “You’re my oldest friend, Nari.”

She knows he means it. I would’ve given up everything for you. 

“Yoongi will be fine, you know.”

“Yeah. Thanks for looking out for him.” There’s a finality to his statement; their moment is coming to an end.

“Always. And…” She sighs, wishing once again that they were having this conversation in person. She wanted to hug him. “Take care of yourself, Jinnie. Eat well and sleep and… it’ll be winter soon, and areas like the barracks are primed for hypothermia and pneumonia.”

She can almost picture him nodding indulgently. “I’ll keep an eye out for hypothermia and pneumonia,” he promises. “I need to hand my phone in a bit and I still need to call my mom, so…”

“Yeah, of course. It was so nice talking after so long,” she adds, meaning it.

“I know.” There’s a pause. “Be happy, Nari. Talk to you soon.”

There’s a click and the call ends.

—

If it weren’t for the phone ringing, Yoongi may have slept all day.

As it is, his phone continues ringing while he paws at his sheets blindly, finally locating it under the neighbouring pillow and clicking the speaker button. “Yeoboseyo?” he answers hoarsely, burying his face into the soft, clean linen.

“Min Suga,” her voice comes through the speaker, a bit scratchy, and yet the only thing that can make him open his eyes right now. “Where are you?”

“Home,” he grunts, pulling his duvet closer around him.

Miso hums. “Taking a sick day? Did arriving unannounced at my house once again tire you so?” 

Yoongi sighs, finally opting to sit up slightly when a flash of pain shoots up his side. Gasping at the suddenness of it, he winces and forces himself to stay still until it subsides momentarily. “What?” he mutters blankly, spots floating before him.

“Last night,” she clarifies, but she doesn’t sound particularly angry, not the way she did yesterday. “And while I can guess why you came…” She sighs. “Nothing happened. It really was just… a date. Dinner and standard conversation.”

The date. Yoongi nods, for she obviously doesn’t know about what transpired after. “I’m glad,” he says honestly, his voice coming out tight. Now that he’s awake, the pain is a lot more apparent and he can barely keep track of what he’s saying. “Really. You can tell me all about it… later.”

“That’s… weird.” He can picture wrinkling her nose. “But have it your way. I’m only five minutes away, so make sure you’re decent.”

Her words click belatedly. “Five minutes from… my house?” He sits up straight, wincing through the pain and grabs his phone, taking it off speaker. “W-why?”

“You showed up at my house unannounced - just returning the favour. And at least I have coffee,” she adds. “Plus, you never take a sick day.”

It takes him a few seconds to realise she’s displaying concern. Despite everything, it makes him smile. He bites his lip and swears, having forgotten how he split it open last night. “Fuck,” he whispers, furious with himself.

“Um… is it not a good time?” she asks doubtfully. “I managed to sneak away from Seungkwan and take a cab but I’ve been known to be somewhat inept with social cues before so if I shouldn’t come, just… say the word.”

Seungkwan. The name sends a wave of fury through Yoongi, but he can’t imagine turning her away. “No, no. Nothing like that. Come. Just… don’t freak out, okay?”

“Why would I? Do you have a girl in your apartment you need to get rid of or something?” she chuckles, but he can hear a nervous twinge in there.

“You’re kidding.”

“Alright, I’m two minutes out.”

Miso hangs up and Yoongi falls backwards onto the bed, closing his eyes in exhaustion. Last night, after Seungkwan had kicked him, he’d lost consciousness. He had come to a couple of minutes later, though, just enough to see the Mercedes turn the corner. He’d stumbled up to his apartment in the rain, mercifully running into no one, and immediately made for the shower, stripping off his wet clothes to stand under the calmer, softer, soothing stream of hot water.

Once the cold had been taken care of, he’d reached straight for dry clothes but his face and ribs had hurt so bad that he’d abandoned the t-shirt, opting for a loose button down instead. By then, he’d become so weak and so hungry that he’d gone straight to the kitchen and warmed up some leftover japchae, pressing an icepack gingerly to his wounds as he watched the bowl rotate in the microwave, alternating between his cheek and his side.

Yoongi slowly climbs out of bed, somewhat glad to see that he’s getting used to the pain. Two minutes out, he remembers. He grabs a toothbrush and toothpaste from a carrybag next to his bed he hasn’t unpacked in two weeks and brushes his teeth as he trundles into the kitchen, checking if he has anything breakfast-like to offer Miso. He’s going through containers of granola with one hand when the doorbell rings.

He washes and leaves his toothbrush by the kitchen sink, rinsing his mouth out with a glass of water and wincing again at the pain in his face as he heads to the front door. “Hey, you,” he says, opening it to reveal Miso in a grey sweatshirt and blue jeans, a navy cap on her head and holding two cups of iced coffee.

“Hey, there, Min -” She gasps and her hands fly to her face, the coffees falling to the floor.

“Oh, shit -” He immediately bends down to pick up the thin plastic containers, glad to see they were largely leak-proof. Shit, he thinks as he places them on a side table and straightens up, realising now that while the pain in his face has been bothering him since last night, the bruise has probably only gotten worse. “Okay, look -”

“What happened?” Miso interrupts, but there’s no entitlement to it, just plain worry. “You were fine last night when I saw you…”

Yoongi purses his lips lightly, ushering her to come inside and closing the door behind her. “Don’t freak out,” he says quickly. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Have you looked in the mirror? Yoongi, you look like you’ve been jumped,” she tells him, reaching up to touch his face but pausing just before making contact. “Who did this?”

Sounds like you already know, love. The way she asks who, and her mention of him being fine when they’d briefly glimpsed each other last night… she knows - or she suspects, at least - but confirming it is harder than Yoongi expected.

“Um -” He sighs, lowering his eyes and placing his hand on his hips. “I don’t want you to freak out,” he repeats, looking up to see her gaze hard and unflinching, jaw taut. How was he supposed to put this without handing her another reason on a platter to want him to stay the fuck away, Min Yoongi? 

“Yoongi.”

“Right.” Out with it, I suppose. “Last night, after we saw each other, your father and I… exchanged words.” You are not worthy of my daughter. He notes how she raises her eyebrows incredulously, but he doesn’t want to get into that right now. “And then he offered me a ride home. Apparently your driver has a hell of a right hook,” he says lightly after a moment, his cheek throbbing on cue.

Just as he’d expected, she doesn’t seem surprised; if anything, he seems to have confirmed her worst fears. She closes her eyes and drops her face into her hands, shaking her head as he steps closer to her and gently wraps his hands around her pale wrists. “Miso,” he says softly, tugging at her hands. “Look at me. It’s okay.”

Miso slowly raises her head and he’s somewhat shocked to see her eyes wet and rimmed with red. “Is it?” she asks quietly. “Do you really believe that this is okay?”

“It’s not… okay. But I don’t want you to blame yourself.”

“How can I not -” She stops abruptly, taking off the cap and running a hand through her hair as she looks away. It’s the closest he’s ever seen her to tears, barring the night she’d come to him in the middle of the night in the pouring rain. “Shit, Yoongi,” she mutters, sniffling. She reaches up with one hand again, this time taking her thumb to his cut lip, her touch feather-light. Despite everything, it makes his heart skip a beat. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says immediately, taking the same hand and loosely intertwining his fingers with hers and bringing both to their sides

She appears to have not heard him. “I was such a bitch to you yesterday.”

“That’s how I like you best.”

She throws him a look, indicating she isn’t swayed by his attempt at humour. “Now I need to ask. Why were you at my house?” she asks, and her tone could not be more different than it was yesterday.

“Well…” Because your father pissed me off so much I wanted to punch him. He’s the worst person I’ve ever met and I wanted him to tell me to my face just how unworthy of you he thinks I am because we’re from two separate worlds.

But none of that is strictly true. He’d been annoyed all day but hadn’t decided to go to her house until much later in the evening.

“I wanted to make sure you were home safe,” he admits, squeezing her hand.

Miso stares at him suspiciously, then scoffs. “God,” she mutters. “Does it ever get annoying, being such a good guy all the time?”

Yoongi suppresses a smile as she shakes her head at him. The anger at her father and Seungkwan is there still, enough that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he sees either of them again. But it’s dimmer now; there’s a part of him that almost feels pity for Seungkwan, for how empty he must be. He doesn’t have this, Yoongi decides as he tugs Miso closer by the hand.

“I’m surrounded by awful people,” she says in a low voice. “And I really wish right now that you’d -“

“Don’t say it,” he interrupts, a warning note in his voice and she falls silent. “It was never going to work.”

Her jaw clenches but she doesn’t argue. Now that he says it out loud, he knows it’s true. The decision to stay had been made a long time ago, somewhere around the time he’d spotted the purplish bruise around her wrist during a late night at the studio. 

Miso doesn’t meet his eyes, fingering the hem of his white shirt before clicking her tongue and stepping forward to close the distance between them. Her head brushes against his cheek as her arms go around his waist and he catches a whiff of her shampoo - just when a shooting pain goes up his side and he flinches backwards, gasping under his breath.

He looks up to see Miso staring back in shock. “Oh, yeah,” he manages, straightening up with effort. “There’s another thing -“

But she doesn’t give him time to explain. Taking a fistful of his loose shirt in her hand, she clutches it for a moment before reaching up and ripping it open. Several buttons hit the floor and bounce in different directions and Yoongi’s exclamation is drowned out by Miso swearing loudly.

“Motherfucker!” Her head snaps up to look at him, her eyes wide and wild. “What - what is -“ She stops and takes a deep breath, her jaw harder than ever. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened last night.”

“What do you mean? I thought… I mean, I thought it was obvious. Like you knew,” he adds, a little thrown by her reaction.

“I thought it was more like you were maybe mouthing off or something and he punched you to shut you up. But this… Yoongi, you need to go to a hospital.” Her eyes roam over her exposed torso and Yoongi finally looks down at his stomach again, noting the purple bruise feeling the dull ache as he recalls the toe of the shoe hitting him while he lay fallen on the wet ground.

“It’s just a couple of bruises. I’ve had worse injuries during dance rehearsal,” he lies, but it’s clear from her expression that she doesn’t believe him. “But I don’t know what to tell you, Miso. I wasn’t mouthing off. Seungkwan dropped me off at the back gate - and now I know why. And he - well, he -“ He sighs and gestures to himself in explanation.

“So it was Seungkwan.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he did it because he has something against me.” As he says it, though, a peculiar moment from last night stands out to him.

“Of course it was my father’s idea,” she says, waving a hand. “But… you know what? I need to talk to him.” She turns as if to leave but immediately turns back around. “Did he say anything? Seungkwan?”

“I mean… he told me to stay away from you,” he answers, annoyed all over again.

“Of course he did,” she mutters, grabbing her bag from the floor where she’d dropped it and storming towards the door.

Yoongi lunges forward and grabs her arm to stop her, ignoring the stab of pain in his side. “But it was different. He -” He grimaces, wondering how to put it. “He wasn’t threatening me. He said it the way you say it.”

His words linger between them for a few seconds. Then Miso frowns. “His tone really isn’t really what I care about right now.”

“It’s not just that.” He lets go of her hand and shoves his own in his pockets. He isn’t even entirely sure where his mind is going with this for what he’s thinking… it’s too far out there. Like something that would happen in the movies. 

“He said something else?”

“No…” Yoongi picks something off the shelf by the door, something he’d remembered to empty from his pockets even amidst the shock and pain from last night’s incident. “I found this in the car last night. It’s his. I know because I found it the day before, too, only at first I thought it was yours. But then you told me that yours was -”

“- in my bag.” She holds out her hand mechanically, her eyes trained on the lens case he drops onto her palm. 

The longer she goes without saying anything, the more doubtful Yoongi feels about bringing it up at all. “Lots of people wear contact lenses,” he says weakly, immediately wishing he sounded more nonchalant. 

“Mhm.” She nods without looking at him and tucks the case into her pocket. “Anything else?”

“Miso… what are you going to do? Are you going to ask him to confirm that he really did kick my ass last night? What’s that going to do?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what else -” Something seems to occur to her. “Are you going to report this? To the police?”

He hesitates. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“No way. This is not a decision you should be making based on me.” She looks him dead in the eye. “Yoongi… if you want to report this, you should.”

“I’ll think about it,” he says after a moment, knowing for a certainty he won’t do it. More than his gut telling him that it’s simply not a good idea, there’s the part of him that feels like it would hit his pride if he went to the cops, only for Kang Jaesung to bribe his way out of even a slap on the wrist, possibly throwing that asshole Seungkwan under the bus for simply following orders.

“Okay,” she mutters. “I have to… I don’t know, Yoongi. I can’t do nothing.” Her eyes go to the side of his face and she bites her lip. “You know I never meant for this to happen, right? I never, ever -”

“I know,” he interrupts, reaching for her hand again. “God, of course I know. But don’t you get into trouble over this.”

“Don’t worry. I know how to deal with -” She sighs and runs her hands across her face, and for a moment she looks tired enough to pass out. “... them,” she finishes. She pauses for a moment, then reaches up to hug him, carefully avoiding touching the side that’s hurt. Yoongi kisses the side of her head and hugs her back immediately, tightening his arms around her and once again ignoring the pain. 

She smells of perfume, something expensive. She also smells of coffee and soap, and Yoongi buries his face in her hair, wishing they could just leave. But even as he thinks it, even as he tries to indulge his heart in a fantasy for a few seconds, all the reality stays stubbornly in focus: the evil parents, the jobs, the mandated conscriptions, the tabloids and everything else that refuses them a moment of peace. 

“I have to go.” Miso steps away from him, eyes automatically going up to his face again. “Just… take care of this. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to see a doctor. I’m sure you guys have private physicians if you don’t want to go to a public hospital…”

“I’ll be fine,” he tells her. Her fingers ghost over the bruise on his torso, sending a pleasurable shiver up his spine again. “But, Miso -”

“I have to talk to Seungkwan.” Her hand goes to her pocket, as if absently, to where the contact lens case is. “I have to… I have to take care of this. This is not okay,” she repeats. With one last look at him and a quick kiss on the cheek, she leaves.

Yoongi watches her go, alone in his apartment again. The coffee she’d brought is still condensing, slowly leaving rings on his side table. On his chair is her cap, navy blue and smelling faintly of her shampoo. He picks it up and turns it over in his hands when his phone pings, the bell sound of an email arriving. Placing the cap on his head out of habit, he checks his email.

—

Miso doesn’t see Seungkwan for the rest of the day, though not for lack of trying. When she tries to call him to pick her up from Hybe that evening, he texts her to tell her he’s been summoned to ferry her father around for the rest of the day as he has several meetings between Seoul and Incheon. 

It seems almost too coincidental, she reflects in the studio, but maybe she ought to be thankful for it because for all the confidence she’d shown Yoongi, she isn’t really sure how to bring it up with him at all. Mostly, she’s afraid that if she does, there’s no telling that a fit of word vomit wouldn’t seize her in the moment and everything, all the fury she’s been harbouring since she found out what had happened to Yoongi last night, wouldn’t just pour out into the open.

It happened because of me. I should’ve made sure he stayed away. But she hadn’t because after a point, him staying had just felt so nice, so safe - like there was one person in the world she didn’t have to tiptoe around.

She stares at the screen of her computer, not seeing anything at all. What is she supposed to do now? Confront Seungkwan, or her father? Call the police herself, anonymously perhaps? Sedate and drag Yoongi to the damn hospital where they might force him to stay and recuperate for a couple of days so she won’t have to worry about him getting hurt again?

There’s no point waiting around here, though. Calling a cab, she reaches the Kang estate in a blur and hurries into the house to escape the rain. There’s no one in the hall when she enters, running a hand through her semi-wet hair and dropping her bag by the entrance. Her hands go into the pockets of her jeans, one feeling for her phone out of habit and the other feeling the small piece of plastic Yoongi had given her. After a moment, she takes it out and places it on the table by the entrance.

“Haerin, check who is at the - oh. It’s you.” Kang Sera enters the hall, phone in hand, wearing a pale pink cashmere top and black slacks, hair falling thick and shiny down one shoulder. Despite how starkly different they’re presenting right now - she in her damp sweatshirt and jeans with her choppy hair sticking to her cheeks and her mother exuding perfection - Miso has never been more suddenly aware of how similar they look.

When she doesn’t say anything, her mother frowns before her eyes fall to the ground. “Jesus, Miso - your shoes are wet. This is expensive flooring.”

Miso stares at her for a moment, then continues on into the house and towards the kitchen, hunting a bottle of water.

Her mother’s footsteps follow. “Did you hear what I said?” she asks indignantly. “You’re getting footprints all over the place. Who do you suppose is going to clean all this up?” she demands, as though she can be expected to begin mopping any moment now.

“Haerin,” Miso answers, not looking at her, “I suppose.”

“Haerin is not here,” her mother states. “Apparently she’s still at the grocery store where I sent her over an hour ago and even - shit, even the chef is still at the butcher’s,” she adds. “Why do I keep forgetting his name?”

Miso tries to tune out her mother’s prattling, but it proves to be impossible. “Where is Seungkwan?” she asks, finally turning around.

Kang Sera stops her chattering abruptly, looking affronted at being interrupted. “I have no idea,” she says after a moment. “Probably chauffeuring your father around since you came home in a cab.” When Miso nods and starts to leave, her mother continues. “I said, take off your shoes, Miso. Have some respect for -”

“I don’t care about the shoes, mother!” Miso rounds on her, her head feeling like it’s threatening to burst. “I just - just -” She takes a deep breath, noting her mother’s shocked expression. “Just leave me alone,” she says, slow and barely controlled, “please.”

“Excuse me?” Sera grabs her arm, nails digging into the skin. “What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me. I don’t care about your floors. It’s a floor. It’s going to get swept and not by you.” Miso grits her teeth, taking a perverse pleasure in how good it feels to raise her voice. “One of your many servants is going to take care of it for you while you bitch at them for getting it wrong. So please - just get off my back for one fucking second.”

Her mother slaps her, a weak sting Miso barely feels. “How dare you talk to me like that,” she spits, breathing heavily. “I am your mother. I knew this would happen if your father gave you too much freedom, but you’ve lost your mind if you think I’m going to take this attitude from you.”

The absurdity of her statement makes Miso laugh. “Freedom? Are you kidding me? The freedom that won’t let me leave this house? I can’t even go to work without my father’s driver following me around like a damn snake, watching my every move!” Yoongi’s bruised face comes to mind again and something snaps inside her. “I have no freedom and you’re delusional if you think I have any!”

“You can work!” Sera snaps, voice shaking slightly. “Your father sent you to college, you lived abroad for years and he let you work - do you think I got any of that? My father watched my every move, too - you aren’t special, Miso.”

“Is that what this has all been about? You’ve hated me my whole life because I got opportunities that you didn’t?” Miso is aware she’s crossing a line now, but it’s too late. There’s too much anger and while her mother hadn’t been the intended target, somehow, Miso realises that she might be the easiest. “How is that my fault? And believe me - I know I’m not special. My father doesn’t care what happens to me as long as he can leverage me for whatever business deal he needs, sending me on dates with strangers as and when he pleases.”

“You have a choice! Do you think I ever got a choice?” She’s screaming now, but there’s something hauntingly human about how full her eyes are, replacing the usual disdain and apathy with something almost resembling vulnerability. “My father was no billionaire but he was still ten times worse! Every decision of my life was made by him! I had no freedom,” she cries, her words stinging. “I only ever became free of my father the day I married yours, which was its own kind of -” She stops abruptly, her eyes going wide, as though expecting her husband to appear from behind a curtain.

“Well… then why didn’t you leave?” Miso asks, suddenly reminded of every time Yoongi has asked her this question. This is different, it’s totally different. “It was a time before the internet, before he could’ve tracked you. Why didn’t you leave? Why did you choose to stay and choose to have his child, only to hate me?”

“I STAYED FOR YOU!” All of Kang Sera’s finery is coming unraveled, her mascara smudging with angry tears, strands of hair flying across her face. “I stayed for you, so you could have a good life, a privileged life that you wouldn’t have got otherwise! I put up with him for you! And you turned out to be the most ungrateful, selfish daughter, refusing everything I ever tried to give you!”

“What did you ever try to give me?” Miso is crying now, too; for the first time in a long time, she feels like a young girl again, confused at her mother’s coldness and distance, trying to be better and eventually learning to give up. “All you ever did was criticise me, tell me I was a social pariah and a disappointment and - and try to get me married off since I was eighteen years old! I needed my mother,” she cries, her voice cracking. “If you stayed here for me then why couldn’t you be that for me?”

Her mother makes a noise of disgust, furiously wiping under her eyes. “You have no idea what I’ve done for you, to keep you safe,” she mutters, venom seeping into every word. “You have it much better than a lot of people, Miso, believe that. You live in a palace, you have every luxury you could ask for, you leave every day to cavort around with your musician friends while your mother and father look out for you to give you -“

“Look out for me?” Miso repeats incredulously. Her mother sounds delusional, almost as though they’ve lived two completely different relationships in the last thirty years. “Both of you hate me, and you hate each other! Nobody looks out for anyone in this family - it’s a fucking farce, for his business associates and for your circle of socialites.”

“What I do with my friends is none of your -“ 

“And luxury?” Miso carries on. “Do you think living in this - this prison and a bunch of fancy cars and staff is all that luxury is? You said it yourself, that you had no freedom,” she reminds her, noting how her mother’s eyes flicker amidst the anger. “I don’t either, believe me. And I would give up all of this to have normal fucking parents who actually give a shit!”

Her mother whips around and a second later, an object comes flying in Miso’s direction to smash against the wall behind her. “Mind your language when you speak to me, young lady,” she snarls, striding up to her, shards of glass crunching under her shoes. She still smells of Chanel No. 5, the oldest scent Miso can remember. “I stayed,” she says quietly, her voice shaking, “for you. Your father is… what he is. But he has still given you a good life, more than a million other fathers could have given you, because I stayed. Remember that.”

You look so much like your mother. Kang Jaesung had said that yesterday, which right now feels like ages ago. Miso shakes her head, an absurd combination of fury and pity for her mother filling her chest. “I didn’t need any of that,” she replies softly, swallowing painfully. “Most kids don’t need caviar for Friday dinners and board meetings after school. I needed parents, who’d help me with homework and come to my middle school football games. But you never cared about anything that didn’t make me a mini version of you, and my father…” She bites her lip, the sobs struggling in her throat as her mother looks away in contempt. “Even Seungkwan made it to more of my football games than he did.”

There’s a fraction of a moment where Kang Sera looks at her daughter, confusion in her eyes behind unfallen tears before they widen and her breath hitches. This time, Miso feels it before she sees it: a stinging slap, so hard across her face that it causes her to stumble backwards. Her hand flies up to her cheek, the skin burning and the ache on the bone where her mother’s ring had surely left a mark. Her breath is knocked out of her at the impact and her ears are ringing, but before she can even straighten up, she feels her mother’s hands on her arms, pushing her.

“Get out,” she mutters, shoving her with a strength Miso didn’t know she had. “Get out of here right now!”

“I can’t - what are you -“ Miso tries to push back, scrambling to hold on to the wall or anything else but her fingers find nothing. “Mother -“

“I have suffered enough,” she says under her breath, pushing her daughter and reaching behind her to open the door. “Get out of my sight.”

“Mom -“

But the wind and sudden spray of the rain hits her back and before she knows it, Miso is pushed out of the house. Her foot slips on the wet marble and in the moment she takes to break her fall with her hands, the door slams shut.

—

The rain is pouring with relentlessness that Miso does not have the strength to fight. 

The moments after being thrown out of her own house are a blur to her: banging on the front door and pleading for her mother to let her back in, taking care where to step on the wet staircases when it became clear she had to leave, reaching the end of her street and realising she had nothing on her but her phone which was in danger of malfunctioning if it got too wet.

I stayed for you, for you, for you. Her mother’s words ring in her head, her face throbbing every time she hears those words. She’d never hit her that hard before, never with such vitriol and hatred. Miso touches her cheek hesitantly as she walks down the pavement under dim streetlight, heel of her palm wrapped in the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and winces. The ring was a choice weapon, she thinks apathetically, aimed right for the bone.

Miso is aware of her feet moving but after a few minutes, once she reaches a crossing, she stops. She has nowhere to go. Not tonight, at least. She can go back home tomorrow, once her father is back and when her mother will once again pretend to have no memory of their fight, going back ignoring her daughter but for passive aggressive digs. Maybe. They’ve never fought like this before. But tonight… Seoul city is her oyster.

She should panic. A normal person would panic. She can’t put her exact finger on it but she’s opened a Pandora’s box with her mother, her father’s chilling as long as you carry my name you will do as I say spiel is still fresh, she has no money, a bruised face and is reasonably recognisable if the wrong tabloid were to chance upon her right now.

Standing in the rain, Miso waits for the panic to set in. Any minute now. But it doesn’t come and Miso doesn’t care. She could sit on the ground right now and sleep on the street till the morning, and the next day and the rest of her life would still be as bleak as it is right now. 

On her other side, the Han rushes by. She crosses the pavement, the cold and the wet and everything else barely touching her anymore. The river looks limitless. She imagines how cold it might be, how strong the currents in it. 

I could jump, she thinks absently. The railing is quite low and I’m wet already. She’s a strong swimmer but that would hardly help here. The currents would decide where to take her. She would have to do nothing, not think, not worry, not fight. I would float. She could close her eyes and be one with the water. Nothing could touch her. It would be over.

The sound is so soothing. One foot goes up onto a lower rung of the railing and Miso closes her eyes, imagining the rain on her face and in her hair, in her clothes and her socks surrounding her, embracing her and caressing her, carrying her… She could do it. No one would know and no one would worry. Her mother could run and her father would seethe, but… She would never worry ever again, ever…

A loud sound cuts through the sound of the waves and Miso flinches violently away from the railing, heart racing. Whipping around, she sees a bus zooming past a red light with its horn blaring, headlights bright and blinding. 

Her heart is still pounding. Her breath comes out in painful spurts and before she knows it, her whole body is shaking with sobs. She covers her mouth to muffle them; it’s a new fear, a fear at herself, so unfamiliar and debilitating, that courses through her that she forces her legs to move, across the street and far away, suddenly desperate to put any amount of distance between her and the railing.

There is one place she could go, she knows. She'd asked him to stay away, more than once and forcefully enough, but he'd ignored her each time, stubbornly doing what he wanted anyway and staying by her. He'd already been punished for it as well, but he still didn't hate her. He’s… there, still. In a dark room with no light, no concept of space or exit, a small flame flickers and Yoongi holds the candle.

Yoongi. The answer was always him. In the distance, she can see a tall building that she’s sure it’s Hybe. Almost mechanically, her legs start moving. She can almost see him hunched over his laptop or with a guitar on his lap, thick hair in his eyes, warm to the touch… Gentle fingers and flashing, gummy smiles, lips brushing her ear when he spoke, softer than anyone else in her life… he'd lean back in his chair all of a sudden and curse, then look around for his cigarettes, snatch them up and storm out. She takes a deep breath; a smoke would be really good right now.

Miso starts walking faster, finally with a destination, crossing the roads and splashing unapologetically through puddles because she finally has somewhere to go. She ought to be annoyed with him, really, for getting himself involved and landing up in a position where he was physically hurt – she's so angry at herself for letting it happen in the first place. But he's still here, somehow, she thinks, her heart skipping a cautious beat. She's not completely alone.

Another car passes her and she stops in her tracks. It occurs to her suddenly that Yoongi may not be in the studio so late. It’s Yoongi, says a voice in her head, sounding so obvious and exasperated that Miso lets out a laugh, scared but with renewed hope.

Hybe, thankfully, employs a facial recognition system to enter the building and despite the blooming bruise on her cheek, the machine lets her in. Keeping her head down and hoping the few people in the building don't notice a drenched assistant producer walking around, Miso takes the lift to the studio floor and miraculously reaches Yoongi’s Genius Lab without being spotted. She types in the security code and pushes open the door quietly, her heart sinking a bit when she sees it empty. After a moment, she lets herself in anyway.

The studio is mostly dark, barring the singular light in the recording booth left on and a couple of smaller lights above the desk - but it's enough to let her know that Yoongi is around here somewhere. Now that she's finally indoors, where it's warm and dry, Miso lets out a shaky breath. Now that the wall of sound of the pouring rain has stopped, she’s suddenly aware of how loud her breathing is, how fast and uncomfortably her heart is pounding in her chest.

She feels her face screw up again and groans softly - she's so sick of crying. But she lets herself anyway, walking over to the mini fridge to try and distract herself. Despite the fact that she's freezing, she reaches for a bottle of cold water and downs almost half of it before surfacing. She hadn't realised how thirsty was; after a moment, she places the cold bottle against her cheek, wincing and biting her lip to keep from gasping out loud. Curling on the floor with her back against the door of the recording booth, she keeps the bottle in place and closes her eyes.

We make a fine pair, she thinks wryly, wondering if this was how Yoongi looked like last night, wet and cold and bruised. But Yoongi went home after, she reminds herself. She couldn't go home, not without consequences. I only ever became free of my father the day I married yours, her mother had said, and Miso doesn’t doubt the truth of that. She would never be free of her father, not without help… and for better or worse, Yoongi was the only person she trusted enough to turn to.

Her eyes snap open when she hears the door beep, followed by the sound of the code being entered. Her heart skips a beat and she's about to get up when the door opens, but the voice she hears is not Yoongi's. Immediately, she shrinks back down and scrambles to the far side of the mini fridge, pressing herself against the warm machine and bringing her knees to her chest.

“Where did you say it was?” There's some shuffling of things on shelves, followed by something falling and the voice swearing. “Don't worry, it's not broken.”

Despite her heart racing, Miso relaxes slightly. It's Namjoon, just Namjoon with the calm, deep voice, with the beautiful girlfriend who'd asked Miso about Australia. Australia. For a moment, she feels like breaking down but presses her lips together, dropping her forehead to her knees.

“You know, why don't I just look for it?” This voice is Yoongi's, sounding only partly exasperated. “It's my demo anyway, you're just the director.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Direct,” he suggests, which seems to make Namjoon chuckle. There's the sound of someone sitting on the chair and sighing, before Namjoon speaks again.

“So, now that we're alone… are you going to tell me what the hell happened to your face?”

“I did tell you,” replies Yoongi, sounding thoroughly nonchalant.

“Please don't insult my intelligence by expecting me to believe that you fell.”

“I did fall.”

“Onto your face?” When there's no response, Namjoon sighs. “Fine, you don't want to tell me? Then it's your responsibility to keep it covered up. Because if you get photographed, even a blurry picture, it's going to cause a gigantic scandal. The company will come under a shitload of fire, the cops might get involved, who knows what the fans will do,” he lists down, before pausing. “And all that aside… you know you can tell me if you're in trouble, right? Hyung?”

Yoongi doesn't say anything for a few seconds, during which Miso's stomach churns painfully. She almost hopes he tells his friend the truth.

“I'm not in trouble, Namjoon.” Another pause. “Don't worry. I've used enough concealer in my career to know how to keep it hidden for a few more days.”

“More than a few days. Hyung, you look like you were mugged.”

“I wasn't -”

“You look like you were. Forget about the company, forget about… everything else. I won't tell any of the other guys if you don't want me to. But if there's something you want to tell me… or the cops,” he adds after a moment, “now is the time. You can tell me. I mean, whatever is making you keep this to yourself, surely it can't be worth it.”

There's some more shuffling and the door to one of the shelves is closed. “Found it,” mutters Yoongi, before exhaling. Miso’s face throbs painfully as she pictures him turning around to face Namjoon. “There's nothing to tell. You just have to trust me on this.”

Namjoon takes a deep breath as though he's about to argue, but then sighs. “Fine. Just letting you know that I'm here.”

“Noted.”

Miso listens to them talk idly a bit more, even play a short demo and discuss it in quick responses as can only be done by two people who've been working together for over a decade. It's there again, creeping through her chest, the niggling feeling at what she's come here for: doubt. She doesn't know if it's the quiet of the studio or the obvious concern in Namjoon's voice, but she wonders yet again if she’s doing the right thing by coming to Yoongi. until now, she'd at least asked him to stay away; this time it would all be on her if something goes wrong.

As long as you carry my name, you will do as I say! Just the memory of her father's face looming before hers makes her flinch, and she hugs her knees closer to her chest. She doesn't have a choice. She doesn't have anyone else but Yoongi.

“Text from Jungkook, hang on -” Namjoon mutters under his breath as he presumably responds. “You want to meet him for a smoke before we come back to record?”

“Sure, but aren't you supposed to have quit?” Yoongi asks calmly, but the underlying amusement is evident. “That's what Kaya mentioned recently at least.”

Namjoon clears his throat. “Of course. I meant, a smoke for you. I'll just… watch.” Then he snorts and groans while Yoongi chuckles quietly. “Christ, this is so hard.”

“Yes, it must be really hard to have a girlfriend who loves you and wants to keep you alive.” There's the sound of a laptop closing. “But I'm in. For the smoke, not the watching.”

“You laugh now, but your smoking days are numbered, too, you know?” Namjoon stretches, sounding slightly smug. “I really doubt the military's going to let you sneak in your Marlboros, so that gives you… seven - eight days?”

“The email said the twenty-fifth,” says Yoongi, sounding sullen, while Miso's heart freezes in her chest. “But two pm, so I still have about half the day to get my nicotine quota in.”

Namjoon tsks and makes another comment, but she scarcely hears it. There's a roaring in her ears - or maybe it's the sound of her own breathing, so loud and so slow that she clasps her hands over her mouth to keep from making a sound - because how, how could she have forgotten that Yoongi was to enlist any day now? They'd talked about it less than forty-eight hours ago, chatting in the elevator about the email he was waiting for and the last minute commitments the company had him completing before they lost him for the next two years.

Two years. It's not tears or crying anymore - it's just pain, just an all-consuming pain of defeat because there's really no way out now. Yoongi would be gone within a week, with nothing but a bruise to remember her by. The roaring is louder now, and it's the sound of the Han surging underneath her, calling out to her. One week. In one week, Yoongi would need to figure out a way to stop smoking and she… she would need to figure out a way to stay alive. 

She doesn't realise they're leaving until the door opens. She cannot be here when he returns, she knows. Whatever needs to be done, he cannot be a part of it. Goodbye, Yoongi. Whatever happens, that will at least be true.

Leaning her head back against the wall, Miso waits until the door closes, leaving her in darkness to crawl back to the person whose last name she carries.

—

“Oh, Yoongi sunbaenim, we're going to miss you so much!”

Before Yoongi can form a response, the young girl reaches up and hugs him tight, her drink balancing precariously by his shoulder. He stumbles a bit but hugs her back, for while the party was not his idea, he appreciates the sentiment of being missed. 

When she and her bandmates shuffle away, all waving and giving him half-hugs, Yoongi's smile fades a little. It's not that he dislikes the party exactly - there just doesn't seem to be anything celebratory about the event. He's enlisting; tens of thousands of men do it every year, their lives go on hold, they're away from their families and friends and partners…

For what feels like the tenth time since the party started, Yoongi checks his phone but there's no message from Miso. In the last four days since she showed up at his house after the Seungkwan incident, she's said maybe ten words to him in total. He's been so busy with last minute filming and returning to Daegu to visit his parents and everything that he isn't even sure if she's come in to work at all, and neither has he had the bandwidth to call and check in with her.

I'll see you before you leave. That was all she'd responded with when he'd told her about getting his date, followed by radio silence. Even after he'd found out two days ago about this party that had been forced on him, the first thing he’d done was make sure she knew it was happening and to please come. She'd only replied earlier today, asking him what time, and that was it.

Something suddenly crushes his chest, startling him, and he looks down to see a pair of arms around him. “What are we going to do without the three oldest members, hyung?” Taehyung demands sorrowfully, his voice deep and loud.

“Jesus, don't be dramatic. And get off me,” Yoongi adds but making no move to shrug him off. “You have your leader, don't you?” he says, gesturing to Namjoon approaching with a drink in his hand.

“Don't look at me,” he says immediately. “When they need a homecooked meal once in a while, they're not going to ask me.”

“God, I hope not,” Yoongi agrees, grimacing when Taehyung squeezes him harder. 

“There's a group hug happening?” Out of nowhere, Jimin's high and sweet voice floats towards them and before Yoongi can process it, another pair of arms comes around him from his side, making him swear.

“Is this really necessary?” he groans, but the younger members ignore him entirely. He gives Namjoon a look. “Some help here?”

“Oh, no, you're doing great.”

“Has anyone seen…” Yoongi wants to ask - he wants to ask her, he wants to ask anyone where Miso is, if she's even coming. He can't fathom leaving without seeing her or knowing she's going to be okay. He will call as he often as he can, and visit her every single time he gets a vacation day… it seems inadequate somehow but the right words will find him when he sees her.

“... Jungkook?”

“He's around her somewhere - but don't tell him you're not having fun, hyung,” warns Jimin, finally peeling himself away from the impromptu group hug. “Seokjin hyung's farewell really messed him up and we really don't need him to start crying until after he's had enough to drink.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” mutters Yoongi, while Taehyung hangs off his shoulders. “Alright, alright - will you guys let me go so I can go find Jungkook? Let him know I'm having a bitchin' time and all?”

Taehyung chortles and finally lets him go, while Jimin begins earnestly searching the crowd. “He was right here… oh, there! By the speakers!”

Yoongi is just looking up when his phone vibrates in his pocket. His heart skips a beat when he sees Miso's name flash across the screen. “Two seconds,” he tells Jimin quickly before finding a quieter spot so he can answer the phone. “Hey,” he says breathlessly. “Where are you?”

“At the townhouse,” she answers, straight to the point. “I had to, uh, kind of sneak away to get here so I can't stay long. Will you meet me by the back entrance?”

“On my way.” Yoongi turns on the spot and hurries down the stairs of the townhouse, trying to peer over the various heads and across the rooms to guess where the back entrance might be. Eventually he sees an exit off the kitchen area and opens the smaller door, stepping out to see the backyard. He spots movement that he realises after a few seconds is Miso, dressed in dark clothing and stepping over some bushes to enter.

“Sorry, I can't risk being seen,” she mutters as she takes the hand Yoongi offers, brushing damp strands of hair off her face.

“Is it raining?” he asks, craning his neck to look outside when she abruptly closes the door behind her.

“It's just a drizzle. Is this room empty?” Still holding his hand, Miso steps into a smaller room and looks around before evidently deciding it's safe, and tugs him inside. He closes the door behind him while she turns on a dim lamp and finally straightens up to face him.

Something catches in Yoongi's chest. “Miso…” He reaches up and touches her cheek with his thumb, a rage like he's never felt before filling him up. “Who did this to you?”

She brings his hand down and shakes her head. “It looks worse than it is. Was.” Exhaling, she leans back against the wall and gently pulls him closer. “It's good to see you, Min Suga.”

Yoongi doesn't know where to begin. It's been days since he's properly heard from her, she's clearly been hit by someone and here he is, about to leave her in the lurch. She looks happy to see him, though, sort of. There's a soft, weak smile on her face, strange and bittersweet. With no words coming to him, he steps forward and hugs her, holding her for a few quiet moments, hoping his apology is apparent.

“I'm so glad you came,” he murmurs, kissing her shoulder before separating. “Even if it's only for… wait, why can't you stay?”

But she shakes her head, that same strange smile flitting across her face again. “There's… I have to be somewhere. My absence will be noted. But I had to see you before you left.” She pauses, fingering his long bangs. “You haven’t cut your hair yet.”

“Waiting for the last minute. It's scarier than it sounds.” He bites his lip when he realises how silly it might seem, and he tightens his arms around her. “Miso… I know this is crappy timing. It's shitty, shitty timing but I swear, I'm still here, okay? And I'll be out sooner than you know and… I promise, this won't be the rest of your life. We will figure something out, but… just hold on for a couple years.”

“Yoongi…” She stares at his collar before meeting his eyes. “I can't wait two years. But I don't have to… because I think I found a way out.”

Her words linger between them for a few seconds. Yoongi frowns. “You did? How?” he asks, ignoring how his heart suddenly starts beating unevenly, incongruously.

She licks her lips slowly. “I realised… there's only one way I'm ever going to be free of my father and it's if I…” She takes a deep breath. “Yoongi… I"m engaged.”

Engaged. Engaged. He frowns deeply, for there must be some other meaning of this word that's simply not coming to him right now. “What - what do you -” He chokes on the last word and hastily clears his throat, sniffing suddenly. “What do you mean… engaged?”

“Engaged… to be married,” she finishes quietly, swallowing. When Yoongi doesn't respond immediately, she continues. “You remember Jaehyun? From the other night, when you - anyway. His father formally asked mine and… I agreed. And I'll be free of him,” she whispers, voice trembling.

“Miso, what the fuck are you talking about?” he asks, barely hearing her. But he doesn't have to. He can see her eyes welling up, feel his own stinging, and he's deathly afraid that he knows exactly what she's talking about.

“There's no other way, Yoongi. As long as I'm his daughter, living in his house, I'm under his control. The moment I'm married, the moment I'm someone else's…” She seems unable to say the word wife, blinking rapidly. “It's the only way I'm ever going to find out of this. I marry someone else and he finally lets me go.”

“Then marry me!” Yoongi cries, feeling the tears escape suddenly, too suddenly. Everything has happened too suddenly. “Marry me and we'll - we'll go wherever you want - we'll leave right now - Miso -”

Through the tears, a smile flickers across her face. A real smile. “Yoongi, we're at your farewell party,” she murmurs, stroking his cheek. “And I know that you want to be there but… I can't wait two years. I really can't. I'm not strong enough to do that.”

“Yes, you are,” he disagrees immediately. “You are the strongest person I know. Everything you've endured -”

“Yoongi, that day I came to your house? That evening, my mother threw me out of the house, after she gave me this,” she says thickly, pointing to her face. “And that night… Yoongi, I was so tired. Not physically, but I was just… I couldn't do it anymore. I just wanted it to end, I wanted everything to end and I was… Yoongi, it scared the shit out of me,” she whispers. “I don't trust myself anymore, Yoongi, and I really don't know that I can hang on for two more years, I’m sorry -” 

And she breaks down, her body shaking with sobs. Yoongi lets her rest her head on his chest, shocked into silence at her admission before he slowly presses his lips to her hair and closes his eyes.

“Don't be sorry,” he murmurs hoarsely after a few moments when she steps back, wiping her face. “Miso, I don't… is this really what you want?”

To his surprise, she doesn't answer immediately. She shrugs weakly. “Jaehyun… he's not like the others. He seems decent and I know he needs this… arrangement just as much as I do. It's my only option,” she repeats, tear tracks visible against the bruise. “My mother… she really hates me. And this way I get to be free of her, and my father's control and - and Seungkwan tracking my every move all the -”

“Seungkwan,” Yoongi whispers, something stirring in his mind. “Seungkwan. Miso, about Seungkwan - listen, I think he might be -”

“It doesn't matter, Yoongi -”

“No, but listen - I think there's a chance he's -”

“Yoongi, I know what you think,” she interrupts him, louder this time. “I know.”

“You - you know?”

“I mean, I don't know if it's true, but… it doesn't matter even if it is. It won't change anything,” she says, shaking her head. “It's not as if it's never occurred to me before,” she admits in a low voice. “He's driven me around every day for thirty years… it's enough time to recognise another colourblind person.”

“But - but you can use this to, I dunno, like… threaten your father into -”

“No, I can't.” She bites her lip, clearly struggling to keep from crying. “He'll kill her, Yoongi. If he even suspects it… he'll kill her. And I can't have that on my conscience, I just can't.”

Yoongi is about to argue before realising he's out of arguments. He meets her gaze, tearful yet resigned, and he wants to scream and cry and throw something. All this time, all this fight… only to lose her anyway.

“Fuck, Miso,” he mutters, hanging his head so she can't see his face and pressing his fingers into his eyes. He can feel her fingers, shaking, gliding softly through his hair. For the last time, he thinks, without warning. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

“No…” She gently guides his face up to look at her. “This was how it was always going to turn out for me. But I wanted to see you before you left and just - and just tell you…” She forces a smile onto her face, the same one she had when she'd entered. “I'm so glad you didn't stay away when I told you to. I'm so glad you were a pain in the ass and you stuck around and you got me credited on a song… You'll never know what you did for me, Yoongi. And even though we started out hating each other and getting on each other's nerves… I love you, Min Suga. I've never been able to say that to anyone before because I could never be sure… but this is what I imagine it feels like.”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his lips together to suppress the sobs but it's no good because every word she's saying is just making it worse. She presses her forehead to his, her hands soft on the sides of his face.

“So… go and enlist and do your military duty or whatever,” she murmurs, her lips grazing his. “And take care of yourself and be safe and… don't forget me, okay?”

There's nothing left except to kiss her now, kiss her deep and long and hard, enough that it may never end, enough that she may know everything he's ever thought about her and might never get to say. “It's not over, you know?” he says shakily, pulling away momentarily. “Even if you're… married, or whatever. If you ever need me, if he ever hurts you… you fucking call me. Any time. And I'll be there.”

Miso nods, kissing him again. “You'll go on to do great things, Min Yoongi.”

He searches her eyes, red and puffy but less afraid than he's seen them in a long time. Her choppy hair, her long bangs, aquiline nose and the thin lips that always gave her face an unreadable mask, her bruised cheekbone… “I never hated you,” he admits.

“A little bit, in the beginning,” she allows.

“Not once.” He swallows. “I struggled to understand you at first, but… I never hated you. And now…” He closes his eyes and kisses her forehead, before slowly wrapping his arms around her again. “You have no idea how much you've consumed me, Kang Miso. I hope… I hope he's good to you,” he finishes in a whisper. 

Miso nods into his neck, her body shaking with slow, gentle sobs. When she steps away, though, her face is pale but dry, looking raw and flushed. “Goodbye, Yoongi,” she murmurs, reaching up and kissing him on the cheek.

His eyes flicker shut, skin warm where her lips touched it. “You know I love you, right? You crept up on me, and I didn't see you coming. But I'll never love anyone like I love you.”

Miso smiles, and even through all the crying, it's a real smile. “Take care, Min Yoongi.” Pressing her lips to his and giving his hand one last squeeze, she opens the door and steps out. By the time Yoongi makes to follow her, only a couple of seconds later, the back door is ajar with a cool breeze blowing, and the trees outside swaying gently in the darkness.

— 

wolfe is jake shim.

those words continue to ring in your mind ever since you realise it in his virtual room, snooping around his belongings as you try to capture every detail as possible until the encryption from the system stops you—if it does stop you. those words continue to spread across your being, dread filling in with a taste of bittersweetness as you log out and open your eyes wide to find yourself in the dingy room you called home. the sun is peeking from the eastern horizon as your head throbs, not just about the revelation but also those before it. information. pieces of private information of users of cyberspace and how the green and blue strings of code guide you to them, clearing any obscurity for you to take all in. the skill that you gain when you connect with that being that calls themself as you.

burden weighs on your shoulders as you gaze out of your windows that are now opened wide from the curtains. the sun is creeping up the sky as it is shielded behind skyscrapers from across the river. a cup of tea pushes steam that calms you down and clears your sinuses as you hold it with your bio-component arm, sipping on the rim as you eye a set of buildings across from you. the building that you were in inside cyberspace.

jake shim's personal apartment—maybe his true apartment, where his family also lives.

it doesn't count as a surprise for you when you finally are aware of it, knowing that owning a luxury apartment by the river will cost a fortune. many of the rich lived there instead of mansions—the evidence of changes to seoul's society that lives upwards instead of spreading out because of many laws and many stakeholders in its growth. but also of the destruction from the previous war that obliterates the city, where the ground level is scummier than ever and to even breathe fresh air with the help of machinery, you must live above ground.

your lips gnaw as you taste the bittersweetness of your usual cup of tea, letting the flavour create a taste of all of these emotions and thoughts swirling in you. that your mission for intelligence comes not with you struggling to pick it apart, but is handed to you on a silver platter. data of real people accessing cyberspace that you had been listing out as many as you could remember, because you couldn't even bear to sleep anymore after all of that. data that you could try to extract if you can use your abilities well. when you walked from your bed, you felt a numbing pain around your pelvis alongside your pyjama shorts that felt cool around your crotch: evidence to what you and wolfe—well, jake shim—had done was real, and you truly had an orgasm from virtual touches. but, there is a growing nag inside of you that you want to explore, that you need to explore by yourself without any other inputs.

because jake shim is a nice person. you can see it in his eyes; a look of curiosity as you both talked to each other. a look of certainty when he tells you how he knows cyberspace, even though you still want to shake him away from that mindset when you don't know his true self. that his ruse of being an engineer is such a half-truth of showing how his engineering skill works if he succeeds his dad as ceo of shim laboratories.

you've heard of his name and the names of the other kids who will continue the corporations—focused on their english names like jay park, benjamin park, and evan lee to make it even more fancy—but you don't usually see their faces. other than the fact that you don't keep up with them, you just don't have the need to do so. only the people's faces on top of the chairs on the board of directors should be plastered in your mind as they are the "public enemy" within the deviant androids. but you have seen his face before, albeit when he was younger. it is from an old picture of him when he was 18, when he graduated from a prestigious high school with his parents on each side of him, complete with his graduation gown and cap on his head. the shim son seemed to disappear after that, talks from deviants of him just focusing on his studies and all. but deep down, they all know that every current new money conglomerate that controls united korea—the shims, the parks, the lees, the kims, and more—has successors that will be trained to replace their parents.

and now, you find yourself unintentionally become part of their inner circle. you matched the appearance with the names you've seen in the chat logs jake has—how some uses their english name and most are using their korean name. a great asset for you to continue on your work, especially if their reaction to being drunk is the same as what people exprience in real life: slurred words that tells of something without a mask on. though, with this burden weighing you, should you actually betray the people who made you feel fully human, even if only interacted virtually?

your other hand reaches to cup the mug, and you feel how even with the machinery, your right arm still trembles, wavers like how your mind is doing. for fuck sake, these people are the ones that made your life miserable. they made the people around you live miserable as all will have to stick by them. yet, the darkness creeping inside starts to pull out piece by piece. doubt comes to waver you in your thinking process because those kids didn't choose to be born in a family where they are expected to lead multi-national companies. you've seen your fair share of over-expectant parents. you were 18 when you visited a high school graduation near your uncle and aunt's home when you still lived with them. standing along with the relatives of the students graduating, you gaze at the people your age getting on the stage and receiving their diplomas, lips pursed as you take in the festivity of it all. seeing parents taking pictures with their child as you see yourself there with your parents—eyes blinking to get rid of the tears that are almost pooling.

turning around, you tilt your head back and chug every last drop of that tea before placing it on the counter. the porcelain material etched with drawings of a marvel superhero franchise stood tall underneath the fluorescent light, standing alone in front of the ajar door to your room. your figure retreats back into your room and sits before the desktop computer, typing down as many names as possible from the ones you remembered. you know that you had your incapabilities—humans' memories aren't as strong as androids—hence much of the blank spaces between each row. you could probably go back to cyberspace again tonight, just to try your best to get as much information as possible. but should you also tell the others that you have interacted with the closest people towards the ones you are targeting?

the sun has risen up more and more and you're still jogging to remember as much as you can, thinking of ways to extract the data you've seen in there outside and creating the correlation of it all effectively. your reflection is seen even behind the background of the text, your locks are still messy from the bed hair as the cyberspace device is placed beside your monitor. gazing back at it to see some tint of green you are slowly familiarising. you wonder if the being that seemed to help you to see into the codes and greet you for your first time could help.

water runs down your body as you brush it, still feeling the tense muscles of where wolfe—jake—had seared into you, albeit virtually. approaching your nether region, you brush away your bottom and gasp. you didn't expect it to actually be as sensitive as you thought it was. your mind recalls his words: copies of your being in cyberspace and how it came true as you felt how it feels in real life now. your dried slick runs down the drain with the water as you shut it off and step out onto your bathroom mat. drying yourself up with your towel, you wipe your face and see your blurry self in the dingy bathroom mirror, pausing.

your eyes trail the marks that have been littered on your body from the wounds of your stitches on the right, to the cyber sigilism tattoo across your left arm, before returning to your face. eyes stare back at you, different colours as your right eye twitches a lot before it lets out the familiar glint that you can control. the greeting only deviant androids know as it sends a shiver down your nape that you rub, feeling the seam of the stitches there in a rectangle for the chip that lets you live in harmony.

tugging your coat over your black compression shirt and cargo pants, the boots stomp on the ground as you hear the remaining rattle of the elevator in your apartment building. your eyes are working alongside your legs as you track down the nearest path towards the underground station. lining up behind the rows of people waiting for the train to arrive, you glance at the many humans who seemed so nonchalant, with a few androids beside them that walked towards their little compartment at the back, separating them from the rest of the train car. with a physical book in hand that you tugged out from your sling bag, you step into the train and scoot towards the corner and face the wall as fast as possible—not wanting to be bothered by anyone who will notice how different you are. how you seemed more in tune and kept yourself near that segregated android area. how you don't want them to see your eyes and notice something artificial about one of them.

the neon lights of the sign are all turned off as you walked passed the motel sign into the alley, words from your previous conversation with bahiyyih crosses your mind as you told her about the breakthrough. your eyes gazing down at the ground, even meters in front of you, as your being is still as sensitive as days before. every scrunch underneath you sounds clearer, the air seems crisper as you breathe in. the sky is more grey when you tilt up to see how small you are in between the sky-high buildings.

brushing the hanging beads away, you find bahiyyih wiping around the counter and kai by the door frame, coming out of the back room. your uncle's workshop door is closed and you can hear the grating sound of the machine. approaching the middle of the room, your body reacts in a way that both kai and bahiyyih notice.

"you found something," the boy starts first before looking at his sister, who gives a curt nod as she seems to tell him about your message.

trudging forward, you sit down on the stool as far away from the front door as possible. the two androids seemed to catch on to the act as they approached and huddled a bit closer to you. your eyes move between them as the nerve makes you bite a little part of your bottom lip.

"i got intel," you paused, gauging their reaction, "huge intel."

"what kind?" kai continues pressing, his hands on his hips as his figure becomes a bit bigger—a habit of your uncle's that he seemed to adopt.

"personal data. cyberspace users' personal data."

"name?" hiyyih then jumps in.

"more than only name. birth year and location too."

the siblings stood stunned before you. you could see how their software is processing the news from even the little changes in their cybernetic eyes. then, kai lets out a smirk.

"this is great. definitely great. are you compiling them?"

your eyebrows reacted as you nodded, "only some that i remember right now. i might have to dig in more to find if i can have a better way to extract them."

kai claps his hands, bobbing his head as he gazes between his two family members. "this will be great to tell the others! we knew we could count on you, (y/n)." and you let out a small twitch on the corner of your lips, your brain is already floating all over the place to know just what this data is going to be used for. and bahiyyih seemed to notice too when she looked at her brother with such an intense stare.

"you're going to track them down?" her voice comes from deep down in her. her arms moving to wrap in front of herself as she shakes her head when kai doesn't refute anything back. "for what reason? they're innocent human beings."

"and they all are using that device for a reason-"

"reasons that are not going to impact the rebellion." bahiyyih cuts off as you can finally see the tension growing between them. the bahiyyih you know was much harsher in her words about the whole ordeal, but this is the first time that you have seen an indifference. bahiyyih has been the one who is much more aware of the state of the world. she knew the impact of the corpos much deeper than kai. and if she seemed to even think different than her brother, you know that something is amiss.

"we should pour our efforts into stopping the corpos instead of spying on humans. work from the inside and negotiate."

"and we have done that and they don't bend," kai refutes bahiyyih's word. his eyebrows frowned and jaw clenches before he continues, "humans doesn't care about us until we actually revolt. look at those protests. those," he takes a deep breath, "those efforts for us to have a conversation and look what they did. they don't even take our demand seriously. why should we continue doing that when it doesn't work?"

"it will work instead of-" bahiyyih stops before shaking her head, gaze moving the other way as you take in all of the information shared between them when a nudge in your mind makes you speak.

"is this about the meeting you had?" your question echoes his request from last time that you didn't come along, that kai asked you to join in on a meeting with the other deviant androids about next steps. his tense body tells you everything about the resolution in his words. that, maybe, whatever agreement that he has gotten from the meeting is his idea. "what did you all agree on?"

bahiyyih turns her body away as only you and kai are still standing before one another, "in one month, we're going to storm the android factory in neo pyongyang. you will come with us and we will convert as many of those androids into deviancy as we can."

you don't want your face to let out whatever thought you are thinking. in one way, it is necessary. those corpos won't know what hit them until the deviants are ready to even move in the first place. for many times, you have heard of your deviant android comrade short-circuiting and dying with no way to repair them, even with your uncle's expertise. getting to their factory can help gather resources and even recruit androids that can smuggle blue blood and spare parts. however, on the other side, it is overkill. the words that kai uses to describe this very mission is aggresive. storming the factory means that weapons will be involved, and when he also mentions conversion, something tugs your heart.

in many times you have seen it, android deviancies come from androids who are already working. deviancy comes in the form of realisation of consciousness and sense of self in a society, from the feeling of injustice to even anger. but converting them when they have not even a minute living in the real world is different. how do they know what they should be defying when they only have the knowledge programmed in their head? it is one of the reasons why you agree with the deviant androids in the first place: the acknowledgement of androids as sentient beings, even if they are still tied to their program. androids know about political history much more than you, but you can see how some androids are deviant, yet aren't part of the rebellion. that there are androids who live in harmony with humans, and humans who also support the cause. converting newly built androids doesn't make them a sentient being; it makes them a soldier.

but even with your special circumstances and more resourceful solution, your idea will be outnumbered. there are many more deviant androids than yourself. many times you have thought about the consequences of being a cyborg—half machine and half human—and how you don't really belong in either of them. it seems that bahiyyih is getting to that realisation as well, of the words her brother says with its deep connotation. and yet, you nodded to kai's words. not because you are 100% agree with it, but you hope that by joining, you can still help those androids that need help. to scrape information that you can access to bring them help. and maybe even stop them from attacking humans who are working there if push comes to shove.

"now that that's settled, you will work with (y/n) to track those people down, okay, hiyyih? i'll be asking you about it from time to time. and (y/n)?" kai turns to look back solely at you, "extract as many of them as you can. we need intel on these people, what they're doing in real life, and in cyberspace."

the boy then walks away with his head held high as you finally let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding. kai is approaching his outerwear and bag behind the counter as he puts them on before walking away and passing the bead barrier of the shop. his footsteps trail away as you turn to look at the only android in the room now, standing speechless with hands crossed in front of her as she lets out such a huge sigh. with a small pout protruding, you took a few steps towards her whilst watching her body twitch, reacting to your sound and touch when she seemed to expect it.

"hey," you whispered beside her, feeling the sturdiness of her android body to the artificial flesh that creates its muscles, "whatever you were talking about, they're working, okay?"

bahiyyih pivots her head, finding yours as you let out a small smile, "the message we send lets people understand. many understand the struggle." she lets out another huge exhale before grasping onto your organic left hand, making you pivot to her.

"you have to make a promise for me, (y/n)," she spoke and the way she does it seems much more human than ever before--shakiness in her voice as she tried to make it sturdy, as if she lets go of everything in her system that hinders her from being so perfect. you nodded to his words as she continues with "stop any escalation as best as you can." your eyebrows are now lifted as you are full-on concerned. your figure moves to stand before her with a hand on her shoulder, eyes begging for many answers to the numerous questions that are floating and being made inside your head. she starts with a sigh.

"for many years, since when you still lived with us, i have seen how this has changed kai. yet, recently, when he got home after the meetings with the other group leaders under the rebellion, he came home more and more aggressive. we talked a lot about plans, but i just think that kai is slowly getting narrow-minded." you can hear the sound of a clicking coming from hiyyih's mouth, a simple gesture of just how this has been nagging in her mind. "it's a shame to see him resorting to something military for people to notice us. we discussed and he just thinks that my idea of staying as peaceful as possible is bullshit. the only thing that made me want to do the job he gave me is because he is my family, like you are too, and i have some due diligence to him, knowing the many sacrifices he has made in the choices he makes in this whole movement."

you can't help but let out such a sigh, a frown you're subduing with a smile as you nod, taking in every syllable of her words and request into your memory. keeping it fresh in your mind as you also see her nodding to you before glancing somewhere else. then, the sound of hinges on the door screeches as you look behind bahiyyih to find the workshop door wide open. a male android walks out wearing an all-black attire with a bomber jacket that has a red streak in front of the black background. you can hear the voice of your uncle as he walks behind the android, who already has his eyes on you. glancing to find bahiyyih not responding because of her turmoil, you step into motion as you head to the counter and behind the cashier. the android walks to stand across from you, a smirk on his face as he looks at you, up and down.

"you know, you're very hard to pin down, (l/n)." the android says as you blinked your eyes, looking at the screen to open his payment tab before looking back to finally realise that he is one of the androids working with the rebellion.

"what do you mean?" you return your gaze to the monitor, typing away as you show him how much he will be paying.

"you have so many androids pining for you, yet you still have fun with those unconscious joy toys."

"they don't really like me," you scoffed, mind scrambling into memories of those times you had to pay for a joy toy android to relieve your lust. you didn't expect a deviant android to notice. yet, their eyes are everywhere. so, it's your fault you can't obscure it enough.

"you're part human and you're our ally? of course, they like you." he eyes the way your android limb picks up the cash and counts it down. sight focusing on the numbers of the korean won instead of the figure as you shake your head. you slot the cash into the right places and grab the change as you push it for the android to pick up.

"well, you should know," the android grasps onto the change, brushing his synthetic skin against yours, "we owe you so much that you have us wrapped around your fingers."

gaze landed on the back of the android's head as he walked away from the shop, the bead sways from the kinetic motion as you turned towards bahiyyih—your uncle standing at the door frame behind her—and you asked her, "is he saying the truth?"

"yeah..." she gazes back at you, "many of the androids love you, (y/n)." she answers, yet her eyes show something more than pride, "but whatever your relationship is is your choice. don't let them corner you to only have a relationship with an android just because you are close to one."

and as she said that, your mind goes back to wolfe—to jake, making you crumple up your hand into a fist to even think of him like that.

"well, all of your conversation got so heated there. maybe too heated," uncle said as you both face him now. his vision scans between the two of you as you hear him exhale.

"you know how kai is, dad," the girl said to her father as you had to hold back your laugh, just reminding yourself of how even androids can vent to their parents for what their siblings done—adding to the level of sophistication in a deviant one who actually thinks like how humans think. uncle just shakes his head before focusing on you.

"you have anything to do later, (y/n)?"

"no, pretty free until nighttime," you replied, an eyebrow raised.

"do you want to have dinner with us? it's been pretty long since you visited our place," the older man suggests, making you glance down from his gaze. it has been pretty long since you've had dinner with him, and because he is the only blood family you have right now, you should cherish every moment.

"sure. i can help you here, too, if kai's gone for a while." uncle lets out a grin at your answer before he retreats back into the workshop, letting your gaze land back on bahiyyih as she gives a closed-lip smile of her own—a smile that you can feel warmth from.

a few hours later, after the man locks the door to his shop, you tucked your hands into your pockets as you walked with your uncle beside you. bahiyyih walking behind, mimicking the androids who haven't deviated to blend in, as you arrived at the parking lot before getting into uncle's truck. yet, he walks towards the front seat door instead of the driver's.

"you drive, (y/n). i don't want you to forget your driving muscle memory," he reasons as you nod and walk to the other side. knowing that he had to make you as resourceful as ever, uncle taught you how to drive four-wheeled and two-wheeled vehicles. but, because you live in an apartment of your own, the only chance you can drive is with your uncle's vehicles. and he was right; if you don't drive often, your muscle memories on the pedals will leave your body.

as you move the gear shifts, the truck lurches as you step onto the accelerator, increasing in speed as your eyes scan the street, planning out the shortest route with the clearest road at this time of the day as you know you will have to avoid the rush hour crowd as well. the sun is now hiding behind the tall buildings, only its orange remnants showing up as the truck leans back to drive across the incline of the bukhan hills area. the road is getting smaller than the wide ones that have multiple lanes—telling the people how it slowly diverges from the main streets of the traffic.

parking the truck with the gear shift and the hand brake, you switch the engine off as all of the others step out of the truck. bahiyyih leading the way as you tugged off your shoes by the front door to enter into the warm, familiar space. the look of your uncle's home doesn't change. it is still as clean as ever, though you do see cardboard boxes by the side of the hallway. the android walks towards the kitchen as you gaze at the open flap of the box, seeing the familiar images of the document you had given to the deviant android last time—the usb that can be used to spread propaganda. you don't know when they will actually stick them up, but the plan with printing it out is to impact through the grassroots way—reaching "smaller" people more, rather than just blatantly protesting towards the people on top; yet it is perceived so unseriously.

as you heard the sizzling sound coming from the kitchen, your eyes wander towards the hallways for the bedrooms. two bedrooms are across from each other, while your uncle and aunt's room are on the other side of the house. approaching the door with an open gap, it screeches as you entered into the room you called yours for around 14 years of your life. the orange light from the setting sun enters the windows whilst you're viewing the bare mattress on the bed frame. dust collected on top of the surfaces of your old toys and books you learned from for your homeschooling. approaching the window, you gaze out to see the familiar view of the front area of the house—the same view you had gazed upon whenever you had time, wishing your parents would show up and take you with them.

you blink away the burning sensation in your eyes before gazing away. a hand reaches out as you brush the dusty surface of the desk, feeling every prickle touching your fingertips as your eyes continue to trail along. that is when you see an open box of stuff resting beside the desk. a document that had a logo of shim laboratories at the header part.

"those are the original documents," your head lifts to see your uncle eyeing the box. "blueprints. notes for brainstorming. many more. your parents don't fully believe in digitising all documents, knowing that somewhere, somehow, someone will be able to decrypt them. so they're doing it old school and kept it in your old house before your operation came, and they put it at ours after the operation is done," he speaks with such a reminiscent tone. however, his eyes were also telling something. something that nudges you so bad.

crouching down, you wrapped your arms around opposite sides of the box as you lifted it up and put it on the mattress, letting it bounce from the impact as you resumed to glance at it. and, by the way he is looking at you, he already knows what you will be asking him about.

"can i bring it with me?" you asked, and he let out a smirk.

"yeah. you deserve to know everything. i'll help to decoy it-"

"dad, (y/n). dinner's ready," you heard bahiyyih's voice echoing across the walls. uncle's head already turning towards the way of the source before returning to you. he jutted his chin as you nodded, walking to him as he wrapped his arm behind your shoulders to guide you towards the dining room. his touch brings back memories of the many times he and auntie do it to you—resulting in a small tear dropping down the corner of your eyes as you hastily brush it away before sitting at the dining table.

-

you stare at the cardboard box resting on the floor beside your desk. the ink-written word of "novels" written on opposite sides, along with the duct tape that stuck the flaps into place. it looks like a normal box of everyday items as it blends in with the sight of you carrying it around the neighbourhoods and into the metro. but the shine of the moon's glow guides you somewhere else as you gaze at the box for the last time before lying down—resting your head against the soft pillow.

jitters run across your body as you feel even the texture of the cloth of your bed sheet even more sharply. the familiar stick to your temple tells you of the device's existence before the familiar greeting shows in your eyesight. slowly, you close your lids and take a huge breath in. pushing it out, the sight blooms not with the usual white that pierces and shocks into the nerves, but with a subtle, familiar tint of green that helps you to see what cyberspace is hiding.

more and more appear as you can feel yourself standing on a surface. your arms outstretched before you to find them there, fingers wiggling around as the nerves travel into you. but then, you find a clump of the green-colored codes form before you, shaping itself into a figure that you are familiar with. however, its surface is much smoother and you can see the patch of skin on the being before looking into its eyes.

"you find out about a lot of things last time," it says, steps approaching towards you.

"what are you doing to me?" you asked back, knowing that because of its appearance before, you could know about this little power you have.

"you're doing it to yourself. well, you will find out eventually." the being now stands right in front of you. one of its hands moves to your outstretched one, approaching it as you gaze and feel a ticklish sensation. looking at the space between the two of you, your eyebrows raised as you see the figure's code being sucked into your body.

"your chip can access all of the information about the people you have come across. with a command from your mind's voice, it will appear so you can note them down easier," it says before stepping closer, making you lift your free hand up and trace your nape where your chip is—to find it so smooth like there is no hardware being sewn in there at all.

"we'll meet again," the being says as you focus back on its face.

"how can i see you again?" the question flows out of you like it is being pushed, not wanting it to be left unanswered.

the surface of its green-tinted skin continues as it crawls up from the hand to the chest. every rough texture of the sight of the codes smoothes out as they reaches its face. the shapes of the lips, nose, and eyes form as your eyes enlarge, trailing down as it creates strands of hair before you take in all of its appearance before you. your appearance.

"you know what to do," it says—you said.

you moved as fast as you could and found yourself sitting up on a ruffled bed sheet, finding yourself on what looks to be a king-sized bed. your head moves around to recognise the appearance of the room you last saw yourself in. wolfe's room—jake shim's room in cyberspace. looking down at your body, you find that you are wearing the t-shirt and pyjama shorts similar to what you wear in real life before gazing at the desk where you see the revealing information about the boy you hooked up with. pressing against the menu on your wrist, you see messages from wolfe who said that he couldn't log in tonight because he has something else to do. you replied with a standard "okay", but still with an unclear gameplay for tonight, if you still want to collect as much personal data as possible.

standing up on the rugged floor, you sigh out a breath you didn't realise you were holding. respawning in such a great location should herald you some rewarding information because you could actually snoop around in his apartment. well, it is because, honestly, you couldn't wait to interact with him again. the surge of pain is gone as your real-life self relieves it and you have to note that knowledge once again. the sound of the room was so quiet as you gaze back at the raven sky outside of the ginormous floor-to-ceiling window. walking away from it, you twist the handle of the door and it opens.

the hallway lights decorated the sides of the path as you follow it towards a large space. a space for a living area that seemed so quiet at first. but then you heard the rummages. rotating your head, you carefully took steps towards the sound as you found a lone spotlight coming out from one side of the wall—from a place that looked to be the kitchen area. the rummaging sounds continue as with every distance closing in, you can hear the sound sources clearly: scraps of metal on a surface with crumpled aluminium and plastic. and when you stop yourself on the pathway behind the kitchen island that covers the fridge, a shadowy figure kneels down before the open door.

your eyes scan their face that is illuminated by the light of the fridge to find a girl with long, red-colored hair and how she is holding onto a small fork in her hand while holding a package of chocolate cake on the other. packages of other food all scattered around her as she continues to dig into the cake, smudges decorated around her lips. in your eyes, you've seen the traces of green codes all around the room, even the slice of chocolate cake that has already been eaten in half and found out about its asset number in the system. yet, you couldn't see the name of this girl, like you couldn't see jake and his friends' names in the nightclub.

a gasp makes the girl turn her head towards where you stand, making her jump backwards and land on the empty aluminium foil as her gaze lifts to your appearance. her wide mouth slowly moves into a smile as she wipes the area on her bottom lip where the chocolate icing stains the skin.

"hi!" she starts first, making you let out a small scoff in disbelief before replying.

"hello." your greeting reaches her as you see her looking up and down, admiring your figure, before nodding.

"now i know his type," the girl talks to herself before speaking once again, "did you sleep with my brother?"

"um," you hold back your giggle as best as you could whilst finding the correct words, your eyes trail back to her face to see the similarities with the boy she called her brother, "not 100% exactly. just the beginning part."

"hmm," she lifts her eyebrows, still staring at you so casually like she doesn't care that an intruder comes into her home like that. "well, honestly, i didn't think he would be the kind of someone who hooks up with people in cyberspace in the first place."

"me neither," you say so slowly whilst connecting all of the dots. the invisible signage with the personal data, the slight blue tint she has surrounding her body, and the way she casually mentioned wolfe—jake—as her brother. a revelation that changes how you perceive the shims as you take a step back unconsciously. a secret that you're not supposed to find out: a hidden sibling. a sister.

in the pictures you've seen of the conglomerates, only jake is the child visible in the shims', standing between his two parents and looking into the camera for a family picture. in your mind, jake shim is the sole inheritor of all of the business his parents have built, the one who will oversee everything and have enormous power at the tip of his fingers. however, with the existence of a sibling, it changes everything. jake is not the only second gen shim that will hold onto the power of shim laboratories. yet, her visibility still has some factor into it. united korea has it shares of female executives, why is she not being made to become one?

awkwardness flows through you as you take another step back, retreating into the shadows, "uh, i'll get going-"

"my name is gynger. with a y instead of an i," the girl—gynger—said so casually. like she hasn't had many chances to do it and will do when she meets new people; even to her brother's last hook up. it is because she doesn't get as much spotlight as her brother that, you think, she seems so casual. so… normal.

"i'm swan." your words spill out as you feel a tug in your heart when you see her smiling so warmly.

"do you want something to eat, swan?" she gestured towards the open fridge and the scattered food packaging throughout. you wanted to deny it at first, but her warm look is telling you something. something about her that screams how unstable she is—because it looks similar to yours when you look in the mirror. and, in the case of your role in a part of a movement, having a relationship with a different shim will help too.

"sure…" your reply floats into the air whispily as gynger lets out a chuckle, pushing a few of the packages to the side before patting the floor for you to sit on.

the light from the ajared fridge door reflects on the ground before, shining a bit on the patches of your skin as you settle into position with your knees nearly tucking into your torso. your gaze lingers on the bluish tint of the slice of cake—not because of its special concoction for the elites, but because of its proximity to the opened, cool interior of the machinery. gynger's hand is highlighted, showing the stains and grease of the snacks she had probably eaten tonight. yet, it is still as delicate as ever when holding onto that small fork—like the table mannerism she learned is ingrained in her actions so much, cyberspace couldn't stop obscuring it.

you watches as she continues to eat, eyeing the packaging of snacks to even fast food lingering around her as you take in just how gluttonous she seems to be. the remnants look like she hasn't been eating properly in real life, even with the many resources she has at her disposal—both in cyberspace and outside of it. her cheeks move to continue to savour the delicious-looking chocolate cake, one that you can imagine has a perfect balance of sweetness and bitterness.

and, suddenly, she asked, "so how does my brother do?"

your coughs came out in splatters, nearly choking on your own saliva at her question before replying, "i... don't think it's appropriate for me to say how your brother does."

"aw," a little clink rings in the space between the two of you. the glint of the fork resting on the plate where the cake stands. "to quell your hesitation, i'm 18 years old. so, i can ask about that." her answer makes you chuckle before she then also questioned, "what about you? how old are you?"

"20," you glance at the cake before returning to her, "for a couple of days now."

"really?" gynger reacted, leaning back as her widening eyes processed your words in real time as you nodded.

"oh-" she suddenly wraps her arms around you, hugging you before she utters the reason: "happy belated birthday to you."

a hesitant smile grows on your face before it widens for yourself. it fades back to a subtle one when she pulls back and quickly pushes the plate of cake towards you. "you can finish this."

"i- i can't-"

"i insist. what's a birthday girl without her cake, huh?" gynger nudges your hand as you reluctantly take it. her smile stays on her face as she watches you holding the plate with both of your hands before she returns to the pile of food around her. her movements were too quick for you to process before the bag of savoury snacks resting on her lap and her hand was already reaching to grab the snack.

"well," you return your glance to her face. her eyebrows lifted with a curious gaze mixed with a teasing glint, "how does my brother do?"

you let out a short scoff whilst you hold the fork, slowly cutting the slice into a small bite-sized for you, "wolfe is… good. i don't really have any encompassing comment other than that."

"did he make you squirt?"

your jaw drops as you can't help your reflexes to tap her. the same reflex action you do to kai or bahiyyih when they made such embarrassing comments. "gynger!"

her laughs fly throughout the empty space as she leans her head back. the color of her hair illuminated under the refrigerator lights before she reverts back and her eyes change, begging with puppy-like eyes—a reflection of how similar she is to her brother. "just answer that one and i won't ask again."

"promise?" you speak so casually, like you are just interacting with someone you have know more than just minutes before.

with a palm pressed on her heart, she replies, "i promise."

"yeah, he did make me squirt," she whoops at your reply as you outwardly laugh in total ridiculousness. seeing gynger reacting like this makes you curious about her relationship with her brother. are they so close that they could ask one another about this topic? or his certain path create friction that causes her to become much more open and forward because she doesn't have many people to talk to?

as you ponder, you look down at the slice of chocolate cake. 1/3 of it is gone, but you can still visualize how it looks like in full. when lifting your head slightly, you could see a silhouette of your parents on the other side. the hands you were holding the plate suddenly become small as it reverts to your childhood's size. then, in a blink, it changes to when you see your aunt and uncle on the other side. one of the hands is now white as you remember the revelation about your parents' death at 10 years old.

a slice of chocolate cake has been present in most of your cherished memories. and its appearance now makes you do a double-take. maybe it is a sign for you to pursue the ways you can circumvent the obstacles of your task, or even find more significant information—now with a shim who seems to lower her guard with you. so comfortable with you. like you are the sibling presence that she has been wanting in her life.

"how come you're so..?" the crunches from her bite stop at your question. her mind was already clicking the last piece of the query by herself.

"rebellious?" she confirms with you nodding—telling her of the right keyword you were thinking about. "well…" gynger scoffed, her expression is a combination of a lot of emotions that are vying to show on her face. twitching corners of the lips, wrinkled eyebrows that won't stay too long, before she resorted to one that is more subdued. more solemn. an expression that she is seemingly so familiar with, but only stays when she is all by herself.

"being the second and 'unwanted' child means that you are neglected," her lifted hands hang there after giving the air quotes, "in technicality, me and my brother are both neglected because our parents aren't anywhere when we are growing. their presence are there, but they are like shadows." her words linger, mouth agape as her eyes frantically look anywhere trying to find more correct words. a familiar look of nerves you have seen yourself in on her makes you scoot closer to her, giving all your attention on the girl and being patient in doing so.

"both of us were raised by androids and our parents' aides. they're the ones that see us grow up, help us with life choices that we didn't realise would affect us now. yet, as a firstborn and also a boy, wolfe has his life more planned out than i do. that he will be replacing my father. i have mine too, but it's not with the company like he does." looking down at her hands, you see them tightly formed in a fist.

"why not?"

"you probably know…" she lifted her head to face you, searching for your gaze. and with it, you try to let out that you did know, that you know the struggles women in this social class face. that in no way, you would hook up with her brother if you aren't someone in proximity to it. technically, yes, you are in proximity to them. your parents were her dad's friend before all of this changed their dynamic. thoughts flow in your mind if you could actually understand her struggles, even without her saying it. yet, in reality, your gap with her is so far that you might have just been further deeper into the ground than she is enjoying the sky.

gynger's words say otherwise, that the rich just couldn't help in doing something so medieval in a world so modern and futuristic.

"i'm a pawn in their game. a moving piece to then be paired up with some other child born like us to tie up bonds, either for more profits or just to get benefits with each other. and that's why i rebel with every way i could." she gazes at the food littering around her and you, taking in the gluttonous sin she has been doing to feel more like herself, to feel even a sense of freedom from this. showing that money and status don't give you everything when you don't feel free.

you both are so much more alike than you realised. and with the way that she is looking at you like someone she can confide in, she knows that you understand now. the expectations of someone like her in a world that is dominated by her own flesh and blood. and for someone as young as her to realise that means that she is slowly dipping her feet into something beyond what she knows. something that, in her eyes looking back towards you, she hopes you can fulfil for her.

"i'm sorry you have to go through that…" you started, finding the right words to ease her up more and more.

"that's okay. i'm sure you have heard stories about that with your friends," she replied hastily, leaning back against the surface as you looked down at your slice of cake in front of you. thinking of just how untrue her words are. you both are so much more alike than you realised.

"i don't have many friends. i don't think i have a friend at all until i met your brother and his friends here." your answer was as truthful as you could get. that you couldn't even mention an android being your friend without raising an alarm in her mind. that you don't have many friends because you don't have many interactions with another human being like her. that ever since you were little, the thought of friends is something so unimportant to you when you are doing something more important in your life: to know what happened with your parents that made her parents want them to be killed off.

the shine from the light in the middle of the night decorates gynger's face when you turn your face towards her. the sadden face now grows a minuscule smile as she nodded, smile slowly widening, "me too. i don't have that many friend either. it's just me and my best friend, dion, who i trust with my life here. every other people around me? i, i just can't click with them." she sighs before she speaks all by herself in a low volume, shyly pushing it for you to hear. "i was made to be hidden anyways…"

both of you sat quietly, your eyes moved towards the window from where you are, where artificial stars gleamed, and a stream of lights bleeding into the dark sky coming from below the tower you are in. the girl before you sits down naively, rebelling against the things she felt had affected her life for so long now. things that, even if you can't comment on it from experiencing it by yourself, still felt so real to you. you haven't really gotten into the social aspect of the chaebols of today, but you didn't expect misogynistic values to still be rampant when females are also placed in the directors' and chief officers' seats. getting to know gynger—even just for some minutes—makes you more understanding about the whole class system that has been going on. that even if at the very top of the food chain, you aren't exactly free and happy. you've seen with jake when he converses with you as wolfe. that when the puzzle pieces aren't obscured as before you know his real identity, you still can feel the gnawing expectation placed on him. but when you found out about his sister; this person that people outside of her socialsphere doesn't know about, it makes you realise that this level of power is digging deeper than you realised. that they see themselves as god and only mingle with god-like people.

but, gynger's willingness to fight back gave you a sliver of hope that even within the inside, something could change. an opportunity you have to tread carefully if given the chance. and with what gynger is proposing to you, it could come true.

"we can be friends, you know? you're much more down-to-earth than most of my brother's friends. dion would probably love talking with you as well," she said so enthusiastically, all awareness out of the glass window and dropped down onto the ground as you stared at the strands of her ginger hair covering some of her face. before you is a girl who looks back at you like how bahiyyih does: curious, attentive, and a kind person. a person who wants to know about the world beyond what she knows now. and if it is by befriending her brother's hook up virtually, than she could definitely do it.

your eyes glance back towards the night sky, feeling the unfamiliarity getting sucked back into you once again. that you don't belong at the same level as she is and even her brother. the guy who seemed to be stuck in your head, as someone who gives you information, someone who shared your pleasure, but someone who has a bigger stake in his actions than he realised. someone that you have to meet once again through cyberspace, and you are willing to reach out to him. you are willing to blend in to get every knowledge you can get on these people you hated with your entire being.

and you nodded to her words. agreeing to what she said when you see her open her arms wide and give you a short hug. an opportunity you couldn't let go so easily. you can already feel the bubbling guilt forming inside of yourself for this. but, with being gynger's confidante, you are one step closer to doing the rebellion's bidding.

-

when you met up with gynger and her best friend dion—who you now know as shim jayun of the shim conglomerate and lee jaehee of the lees that built intelee—for a hangout within the confines of cyberspace, you expected them to be pretty "outstanding" like their older brothers, jake and evan, who you know is the one behind the alias roe. you were still very much hesitant in trusting gynger back like she trusts you, like she knew that your relationship with jake can go beyond just hooking up within the confines of a virtual world. how you were predicting that because they are 18 and all, they could go and hang out at the nightclub when you met the rest of jake and his friends. and yet, they invited you to an alleyway instead and gave you a virtual spray can; you can see the grid structure and the code engraved on it given by the system.

a sharp smell of paint enters you as you see them draw beautifully on the virtual brick wall, tagging it with drawings that look more or less like a flower garden at the end. the power of the simulated world lets you know that the paints used are actually glow-in-the-dark. gynger turned her head towards you, tilting towards the wall as you look one last time at the can before also stepping in, spraying the color in to sketched out whatever you can add to it. after it, all of you spend your time sitting on one of the benches in the park. a right time to ask them about what they think about cyberspace and some other subtler questions to know about their lives.

"cyberspace gives us a chance to do something we cannot do in our lives," dion—jaehee—answered first. "we can actually do things beyond this barrier that we were placed. where we want to actually hang out and blend in with the people."

"and it also helps us do what we are interested in," gynger—jayun—added, gaze peeking from the corner of her eyes to jaehee with her cyberspace-styled bleached hair as she nods. "i don't have any interest in engineering and whatever my brother is learning to get that top spot at the lab. being here, meeting up with dion and you, swan, and just sitting and observing other people is something that i want to do. to learn their behaviours, to know what they do when they have a chance to do so in cyberspace. to learn about humans in a world like right now." a wistful sigh comes out as you notice how her eyes that were moving all over the place suddenly stopped and now gaze upon you. yet, you catch onto the sadness that she was trying her best to hide.

"but, i know, i won't be able to go to that anyway when i graduate." her bangs fall right on her eyebrows as she blinks slowly.

"me too. i am getting choked by learning IT so much that it sickens me. all i want to do in my future is to help people physically, maybe animals too." dion's word cuts through as you had leaned yourself agains the table, letting their words be internalise by you. even if you have to follow through with what you are planning with these two, you can't helped but see yourself in them: living in a world with circumstances blocking what you desire.

guilt is starting to bubble inside of you when time moves on in the following weeks. when on each and every hangout you went with them that you know you also couldn't go to in your real life—spa, karaoke, arcades, and more—you can feel the deep care you have for them growing. however, you knew that many other lives were at stake here. and you have to decide which one to side with.

with those many hangouts comes time to talk and discuss, and that's where you move; empathise with their problems from school to personal ones, to just giving advice from an older girl's perspective as they can't ask them to their brothers and families. but, you also slip in seeds of ideas from the movement you are part of. 'what is the definition of an intelligent being?' 'what about equality?' 'what do you think about androids?' all packaged into a topic you can talk about in one of your deep talk sessions, adding to the "rebellion" side they have shown with you in cyberspace; to create an agent of change within the high-class circle, even if they are the youngest in the bunch.

jake hadn't contacted you in a while since you went around with his sister when you logged in. deep down, knowing he's in an internship while also going to school renders you into knowing his busy life. gynger's stories corroborate your hypotheses, how she described her brother as "dishevelled and pretty quiet even when we ate at the dining table together, just he and i." yet, you have gotten much more insight that you know will be helpful for you. however, you also wanted to talk about these things with him.

"my brother loves deep talk. he is always the one who jogs my mind about things, even if we have our differences. i have to actually push him to talk back to you again, or else, he wasted such a freaking potential." jayun seemed to promise you, and, not going to lie, you also miss your talks with him. though, you know that whatever had made him busy had something involved against your movement.

you heard it through the grapevines and throughout your in-person missions. how the peaceful protest for the android acknowledgement continues, and shim laboratories seemed to be quieter. like they are calculating something, working on something behind the scenes. news of missing deviants spread like a spark that could create a wildfire, something that kai had told you as the deviants' side is also planning something to fight back—something that also ropes you to be involved when it is set.

their usual silence is blaring like alarms. and you have to be more careful now, especially when you are infiltrating from the inside.

in those passing time too, you had also felt like you were being watched. and one time when you looked at the end of the streets whilst walking a step behind the two who are conversing, you caught onto the figure's outline created by moving codes. turning your head to the side, you caught onto it staring back at you. watching, observing you who seemed to be more sensitive every time you log in, and your progress with the two best friends has stalled as you are waiting for the seeds you planted of ideas to grow within them. but time is ticking down, and those corpos could do whatever they are doing before you make significant progress.

when you open your eyes, you stare at the ceiling of the hotel room you booked near the apartment where gynger and dion resides. a hotel you know you couldn't afford in real life and only can happen with the bits counter still set to question marks—marking its limitless character only for you. pressing on your wrist, the holographic screen shows up as you see the status of the people in your contact—jake and his friends also jayun and jaehee—all are offline. you turn your head to gaze at the open window, the nighttime sky meeting you as it is the only time you can be online in cyberspace. standing up from the bed, the coolness grazes your skin and steps are heard as you approach the prominent reflection of yourself with your untainted skin that is rid of its defining scars and tattoo. staring back at you is a different version of you. someone more subdued, a blank slate personified, compared to who you are outside.

even with the duality, you knew that this was the perfect version of you. its presence creeps onto your skin even with a single glance. it hasn't made any appearance since that day when you met up with gynger. and you know why: because it waits for you to seek it out first.

"swan?" you say into the open space, now knowing who it is.

and as you turned around, gone is your hotel room as it was replaced by the black background and strings of code in the shape of the furniture. before you stood a figure you now recognise. its green strings of code that encompassed its body are now covered by patches of skin that unnaturally emit a dark green glow. its body is covered by clothes that mirror yours, even down to the crease of the shirt that was ruffled as you toss and turn in the bed when you respawn. the small spot of skin that was exposed on its cheekbone quickly is covered with the spreading skin and as it fully closes, it smirks a familiar one you've seen in the mirror.

swan is you.

her eyebrows raised as you let out a little gasp, before she chuckles, "i knew you could do it." you don't know what she is referring to as she just chuckles more, "to those two. they pratically worshipped every word you spoke. an older sibling figure they never truly had. a parental figure, if we want to push it."

your eyes followed her movement. she walks with her head held up high, not even slouching the very slightest. with every movement she does, a little trail of glowing green comes from her fingertips. letting go of your bitten lip, you finally say, "why are you helping me?"

"oh, (y/n)." she approaches, "read between the lines and the fine details. you know that i am-"

"swan?" a pop-up shows on your interface as you can see your own face looking at it, like she knows where it is popping up in your vision. on top of it spells the word of the boy's alias you have been thinking about. "lover boy," she replies as you see wolfe's text once again.

"you're in cyber?" the box spells out, and you wanted to reach for your wrist to open the hologram keyboard and type back. but when you felt a little tingle on your nape, you found your answer was written by itself and quickly sent.

"yes." the box with your name tells him. focusing on the figure in front of you, she just mimics the expression you've seen yourself make in the mirror. this one saying, "now you see."

"free to hang out later?" wolfe sends back as your eyes return to meet hers.

"you want to?" the figure questions as you blink in quick succession. her confidence reverts back to a normal state before you see her eyebrows creased. worry lace in her tongue so suddenly as if she lets go of its control, leaving it to you to decide. and with a blink of your eye and a change of mindset, you type and send a textbox that says "sure," before it closes off.

you now stand in front of your own figure that is surrounded by a green glow. her head now tilts to the side as she asks, "why did you call me?"

"i-" taking a breath, you slightly shake your head before continuing, "i want to ask something. something that has been-"

"nagging you? yeah, i've seen it, felt it. yet, not thought of it," she replies, adding to another note to ask her later when the time is right. you blink to think about how this very question's origin is. how, with the numerous times you have been walking around cyberspace with gynger and dion—without wolfe even noticing—the people that you cannot help but see their real-life identity is nearly as old as you and they look different than what they look like in real life. how someone young looks old here and vice versa. how someone that identifies as one gender is now another gender, and how rare it is to find somebody who looks the same as the photo you see on their little profile. usually different hair colours, different aesthetics, and others.

and so, you formulated this thought into a simple question: "why do people stay here for so long?"

her face contorts after hearing your question, as if she has never thought about it before in a question like that. but, as a personified line of code seemingly tethered to this world, she has an answer to say as you watch how the glow around it moves like a wave. brightness dim and grow like it is processing your question to explain the answer in its most simplified, understandable form.

"it is simply an idea of what my creator has elevated into something beyond what it is made for." her eyes moves frantically, like she is reading so many data from a table so wide and tall that they jitter from one side to another. "cyberspace is used so people, real people, can reached their higher and idealised version of themselves. portrayal in how they look, how they dress, and how they act. cyberspace realised it, instead of dreaming it." she did a quick shake as before looking back with a certainty. "my hypothesis suggests that long-term engagement makes the people rely on it and couldn't stay too long without it-"

"they're addicted," you mouthed to yourself. then you think back to what wolfe has said before.

"the cyberspace system simulates your brain so much that it essentially copies your being into here, from the way your heart beats, your muscles move, and how you taste and touch. the server holds many copies of users that they can customise. but once you log in, there is a 'you' here and it works in tandem with the you who wears the disc in real life."

"swan?" her face is now blank as she looks back at you. gone are the confident expressions she shows, mimicking the very expression that you have formed with your facial muscles. her eyes now look back at you as if she is also learning something with you. something that maybe, a thing like her, should have never processed about. the question forms at the tip of your tongue as you let it out, "how long has a user stayed online without going offline at all?"

her eyes jitters once again, hearing your words like a command as it looks back to you. "months. one person has stayed for more than 12 months."

"a year without-" the thought of it imprints in your head as you remember the many times you have gone offline from cyberspace. not only because of the weather, but dehydration claims you as you had to cook a cup of tea or coffee or something that can help you with it. and if it's only one night for you and you have felt that, you can imagine some people stayed there longer than you will feel when they log off. you remembered the person you saw on that train car's seat, body flopping on the nearest sturdy structure as the white disc is attached to their temple. their lips all dry and face unnaturally small—you could remember hollowness on their cheeks.

you looked back to see how her face was back to a curious look, like she had reverted back to her normal programming before she was hijacked by you. "anything else?" a pop-up shows up once again as you see the words "i'm going in cyber" from wolfe.

"collect the data of every person that i encountered, and i will try my best to remember and write it down." your words have a little push in them that was much different from the subdued voice you've spoken with.

"no need to tire your brain like that." she then twists one of her arms so that her fingers reach behind to her nape. "touch yours outside and that data will be yours."

instinctively, you raise your hand to do what it is doing to find the nape that houses your chip, which is smooth with skin throughout. and in the blink of an eye, the room goes back to the hotel room with the messy and expensive-looking bed. the remnants of the glowing green codes sticking onto your retina as you blink them away. the right timing of it then shows another message from wolfe. your tight-lip mouth finally opens up, letting out the air you didn't realise you were holding—even if it is simulated air.

walking towards the wardrobe by the door, you find the clothing inventory interface staring back at you as you pick an outfit that subtly screams you. a bit on the open side, as gynger and dion helped when you all were shopping. your uncountable number of bits keeping up with those items that are definitely tangible. and as you step out in the outfit that you pick, the cloth rustles against your skin as it changes you instantly, your room payment is automatically paid as you walk towards the location where wolfe has told you.

your eyes embrace the night view that is much more subdued than the one outside of cyberspace, walking around on the familiar path you've walked many times, even in your two years of full freedom when you moved out at 18. you've met and given things to many deviants, many people involved in the rebellion, on this very path you walk down; like the last one you met before you were given the task to fully scrape up any information on cyberspace you can get. yet, you remembered back to whatever information that swan gave to you.

to be your idealised self.

and if swan is you, then it is your idealised self. you see it, truly. no marks on your right shoulder and thigh means that you are normal, not living in two worlds. not being able to belong in any one of them. swan, whose appearance is more human than yours and whose brain is more android than yours. a literal best of both worlds. yet, when swan's combination is perfectly fit, yours aren't. a literal half-and-half of a being stitched together by both sutures and wires. you've heard the story of how it happens when you were younger, and you still can't comprehend how you feel about it until now. that is because you couldn't see yourself in a future where you are upper class girl because your parents are successful with their android endeavours.

maybe, in that alternate universe, you would've been a part of jake's friend group from the start. not only because of the proximity of your parents being so-called friends, but with the knowledge that he grew up to be someone like the wolfe who you know now. and the thoughts of it make you rub your palms against your exposed upper arms, goosebumps showing up that mimic how it is done in real life.

the lights of the restaurant that your map leads you is dim with warm lamps scattered inside. you watched from the glass window, that has been painted with the name of the establishment, the fanciest people you have ever seen. dresses, suits, semi-formal at most in fashion. when you've seen the name of the restaurant that he texted you, you knew it would be fancy. but you didn't think it was fancier because you thought your long black dress with open shoulders and a slit running to your thigh for convenience was enough. yet, when you trail your eyes as you walk to the front of the restaurant, you find someone dressed similarly to you.

jake—well, wolfe—has his usual slicked-back, dirty blond hair now covering his forehead. his outfit is all black with different textures. where his suit jacket and pants absorb the light, his black satin shirt reflects it as he hears the sound of your footsteps approaching. lifting his head to meet your figure, you watch as his jaw slightly drops, eyes looking up and down at you, seemingly already stripping you because he has seen you nude before.

"hey," you greeted first, pushing back any of your thoughts that were clouding your mind to the back as you gaze upon him. yet, one still slips: even someone like jake, who has his perfect life outside of cyberspace, still looks different than what he looks like in real life.

"hey," he replies. his hand grasps onto yours as he bows to give it a kiss. a little chuckle came out of you as you stepped closer, letting him wrap his arm around yours. you returned to look at the entrance of the restaurant to see that barrier, a barrier that you have now crossed multiple times in many different high-end virtual establishments that gynger and dion brought you. and yet every time you see it, you still have a nagging feeling that it will actually stop you from going inside. but, as he guides you forward, the host by the front bows her head before speaking, "good evening, wolfe," eyes then on you, "swan. we have prepared your tables."

you tried your best to hide the huge exhale you just did, not only because you've done it again, but because the host had recognised you. many people actually do.

whenever you walk around in cyber seoul—alone or with gynger and dion—people sometimes recognise and call your alias. and when you turned your head, you either gave a small smile and wave, or they actually approached you to do small talk on topics you know. yet they seemed to do it like you both discussed it multiple times. you don't know this person at all and it happens multiple times.

now that you know that swan is you, you realise that that is also another part of you that you can see as your heightened, idealised self.

it makes sense. swan can interact with anyone she wants, yet you can't. even if you do interact with people in real life, they can't really record it. for all the government of united korea know, you are dead when you were five. your uncle is the one holding onto the lease of your apartment as he agreed to use the inheritance money that he kept for you from your parents. you don't hold any legal identification and hold one that is forged by one of your fellow deviants—one who has made many for other androids who wish to blend themselves with the humans.

you don't exist. yet, swan exist here and people recognise you.

when walking through the hallway with one side that is exposed and held onto by pillars, you can sense a burning gaze at both you and wolfe's figures as you pass by. people in their fancy schmancy looks, yet they all look at the two of you, side-by-side, arms linked with each other. and as you turn to look at his face, you can see an expression that you can read from the surface. that somehow, somehow, even though he is here with no identifying evidence of him being a chaebol, his presence just feels like it when he sees many people seemingly bowing their heads towards the two of you.

making you feel more and more like a fraud.

the host opens to a room where on one side is a floor-to-ceiling window stretched from one wall to the other. a real estate view of cyber seoul's han river with the many buildings shining like stars behind it. the table was small and intimate, and made the room much bigger than it is. as you brushed your dress down, you felt the host pushing the edge of the chair to your legs as a signal to allow you to sit down. and does the same to wolfe across from you.

"you have reserved the five-course set for both of you. any preferences for drinks for tonight as you wait?" the host asks, and you glance back at the man across from you, nudging with your chin towards him to let him speak for both of you.

"red wine will be nice," wolfe says, eyes not letting go of yours.

"red wine, it is. i'll be back with it shortly," the host bows her head once again before leaving the room. the door closes with a click as you both seem to finally be able to breathe freely again.

giggles come out from both of you as you unconsciously put your hands on the table, brushing against the utensils as you let the sensation of the silk table cover soothe you down. then you felt something warm curling against a few of your digits, trailing the source to find his hand reaching across the table for yours. flipping it to the palm side, the electric feel courses between both of your touches as you gaze at his face to find that expression once again, one that he doesn't hide now that he had you before.

"how are you?" he asks with such a warm voice that sends shivers down your spine. in your eyes, he's perfect. charming, attractive, wealthy, smart. it's just based on observations you've seen through cyberspace, but in reality: you know that he has most of the traits you noted down as well. yet, here he is. sitting across from someone who hates his real self, his family, and his inherited company for whatever they done to the nation and to you.

"i'm good, how about you?" the thought still lingers in your mind. yet you added another layer of the mask with a warm smile to mirror his. wolfe's eyes still flicker between all your features. how he gazes at how the outfit perfectly fits and accentuates your body.

"i've been pretty busy outside. so, i'm sorry for not meeting up with you again until tonight." wolfe caresses his fingers with yours, paying back his absence with his soft hold. "though, i did see that you were online a lot. you've been having a good time here in cyber seoul?"

yeah, with your sister, you wanted to reply. but he doesn't know about that, and you don't want to tell him about it, knowing the ulterior motives of you sharing your knowledge of the world that she couldn't see and reach by herself. you wonder if she had mentioned you to him before in real life, maybe when they were having breakfast before she went to school and he went to his own business or whatever. but, with the many talks you've been having with those two teenagers, it seems that their older siblings seem to "let them go," especially recently.

"you know, we are going to have this dinner gala that is happening in a month from now," gynger—jayun—says as you both sit down on the grass in the middle of a park at night in this very memory. your legs tuck near to your chest as you look between the red-haired girl and the blonde one. "it's like one of those balls where you are seemingly 'introduced to the world' and all," she continues, whilst having the air quote still by her face.

"yeah!" dion—jaehee—interjects as her wide smile fades and you hear her mumble, "what's the term of it again? i've definitely heard it before in some global history class-"

"debutante ball?" you answered as jaehee points her finger at you, nodding her head while saying, "yes, that's it. they like to do it every year, but only people who are 18 at that time can be the guests of honour."

"my brother went there and he did it purely for networking. well, that's what our parents say. but i have no doubt that he must've flirted with people there too, or the people flirt to him," jayun cuts in, making you wreck your brain of something that you have seen related to it when the memory comes to you. that you did remember watching a video of those four boys on the red carpet for the gala. all of them in matching black suits with black natural hair. all still looking young as they don't know how to properly act in front of a camera to remember heeseung and jaeyun—these two's older siblings—giving peace signs for the camera.

you've thought about it. that even a dinner like this is being documented in the media. but, for what reason? so that they could flaunt their wealth and class to say that "oh, if you aren't here at this dinner, you are irrelevant"? but with the added context of this being a debutante ball, it makes total sense as to why the media is keen to have an eye on it. to show that these are the hottest bachelors and bachelorettes of united korea, to show that these are the people that are going to be important in the grand scheme of united korea's financial, industrial, and cultural powers.

"did you go there when you were 18, swan?" the red-haired girl asked as you felt their eyes on you. because you had to fake that you were one of them. that you are close enough in class that you can be invited to an event like this. your idea of debutante balls really only shows up in your mind because you've read novels from 200 years ago, of the british period pieces when you can imagine that the idea of having fun is dancing around in the hall. hopefully finding the right one to spend the rest of your life with.

"yeah, i did." lies that were giving a bitter taste are now numb, as you felt nothing.

"you've probably met our brothers there," jaehee added, pushing her body to lean in closer to you.

"well," you nibble on the inside of your cheek as you come out with the best lie in the moment. "i've only see them from afar. they were pretty popular." you try to make your facial expression match your words to sell them. and by the looks of it, they did buy it all and swallow it into their mind.

then, you heard jayun sighed before letting out an exasperated laugh and brushing her face with her hand, "they've been nagging me a lot about this. 'have you learned about this?', 'what do you remember about that?', 'don't eat too much because you have to look good', 'find a good husband there', blah, blah, blah. fuck!" she groans in frustration, tilting her body back to gaze at the trees' silhouette under the night sky. "there's a reason why i ate so much, and that is to spite them. i don't want this to be my life and since they have my android keep a watch on me when they catch me eating snacks at night when i thought they weren't even coming home, i've been feeling myself slipping further and further. i just-" jayun returns her position upright, sitting before the two of you as you can also see glimmers in jaehee's eyes before one drop trails down the corner and down her cheek. when her best friend lets her frustration out, she is the type to keep it in, and yet, it still bursts out, even if it's only a teardrop.

and even if the guilt is slowly eating you up more and more, that's when you know: that they are perfect for your plan.

"it's been good, no exaggeration," you reply to him with a recognisable taste on your tongue, "i've learned a lot by just being here and walking around."

"i see it, i mean," wolfe looks back at the door, "people seemed to recognise you. i didn't even tell the host that you were my plus one and she just knew you. it kind of actually makes me-"

"what?" you say in both disbelief but also in questioning mode. "are you jealous?"

he chuckles before answering, "not the type that you are thinking. it's more like," the man across breathes in and out, "i'm jealous that people know about you now, that i have to share you not only with my friends. but to the rest as well."

oh.

your mind is spiralling with a lot of thoughts about his answer. a sense of jealousy that you can sense, but also possessiveness that is slipping out. that he sees you as a property, not an equal. you guess that it might be something that he has inherited from learning since he was younger. that because you feel like gods, you feel like you can own something. it's something that his dad did—taking ownership of something that your parents made with project android after betraying them, just because they have to break a rule to save their only child. you felt saliva growing in your mouth and you wanted to spit it out to him so that he would realise that what he says is just ethically wrong. one sex session that didn't involve intercourse and he is already like this.

then, you see a glowing green silhouette standing behind him. translucent yet evidently you. swan standing with her eyes looking down behind wolfe's head. like it also can't believe what he is saying before looking back at you with such an empathetic look. she is gone in a blink as you look back to his face, noticing how his eyes are now looking to one side until it reaches the corner of their eye socket; as if he also senses her presence behind him.

but now, with such a freudian slip coming out of him, you now know that you are one of his weaknesses. so you have to play it right.

jake's hands that were caressing you suddenly stopped when he sensed yours move. brushing against his own palm before you push it up, flipping it over so that both of your palms are touching and upright. your fingers find the spaces in between and you slot them to curl against his hand, locking it up in a tight hold.

"no need to worry about," you reassure, a little pout from your bottom lip, "even if they do have their eyes on me, i only have my eyes on you."

and he replied with his fingers curling around your hand again, holding you tight as his eyes glare into yours, making your cheeks unintentionally warm up before the click of the opening door soothes the tension as your wine and first course of the meal come out.

every movement wolfe did in front of him, you mirror with your own flavour. the many utensils that flaunt table mannerism much of the higher class probably learned can send you into a whirlwind of confusing decisions if not for him sitting across from you, reaching for the right one as you take a few seconds of delay to make it as natural. you felt his eyes continue to glare into you, meeting his that are full of warmth and getting hotter from the lust. your green-colored system still can't penetrate much of his, which is blue-colored. yet, you both exchange small talk, mostly of the happenings inside cyber seoul while engaging with the courses coming in—holding back on information as long as possible. yes, you can see that he wants to share more about his real life. the corner of his lips is stiffened as he seems to hold it back like it triggers him to spill out everything—unlike his sister, who is just a bucket with a gaping hole and her thoughts just spill out easily.

"well," he reaches for his napkin to wipe a near-nonexistent sauce on the corner of his lips, such a upper class thing to do, "i did mention to you that i'm an engineer at shim laboratories. how about you?"

"uhm," jaw gnawing as you think of the words, piecing it up to make even half-truths of what you do, "i do software."

"in college or?"

"yeah, currently doing my mandatory apprenticeship." the words just flow out of your mind.

"really? where?" wolfe seems to be excited to have a new topic to talk about, and you seemed to make a good excuse that seemed to "match up" with his side of society.

"intelee."

"oh fuck, really? hee-" he caught himself, "roe works there too. the idea that you might have talked with him before me is just," your gaze notices how he tightens his hold on his utensils.

you chuckled as you pushed more on that narrative, "it's why i've been asking a lot about cyberspace from shim lab's side. it's one of the topics that i'm writing for my class."

"wow, and yet, you didn't tell me right away…" he lets out a pout that makes you nibble on your bottom lip.

"i only told it to people i can trust," and with those words, you hoped that your metaphorical knife was thrust ever so deeper into his being. to let his guard down.

wolfe lets out a giggle as you follow. the faux alcohol has already created an effect on your brain to actually make you simulate it. the alcohol's warmth spreads all throughout as you see the host coming in with your final course: the dessert of a fancy-looking tiramisu.

"i hope you enjoy. we can prepare your bill immediately, or you can go to the cashier for the payment," she said, her head a bit bowing still looking between him and you in awe.

"we will do the latter, thank you," wolfe said as you also chimed in with a "thanks for serving us." the host bowed her head once again before leaving you two in the room.

"because you've brought it up, i finally got a question that i'm trying to remember the whole night," you acted as best as you could in the fake moment of epiphany, not like the question was already formed in your head and you just now find the perfect time to ask it.

"shoot," he replied, hand holding onto the stem of the wine glass as he swirls the liquid around.

"talking about the hardware side because you do it," your open palm indirectly points in his direction, "i wanted to know about how it's connected to your body in real life. is placing the disc on the temple area help with a more direct access to the brain? and does that mean that it is purely to simulate the brain?"

"yeah. i mean, that's a simple way to put it," he places down the glass to reach for his little spoon, cutting one corner of the tiramisu as your hand reaches for your own. "the disc directly links to your nervous system and it works to stimulate the brain. so, every taste, every touch, every smell, and the feelings you have experiencing it. the disc is giving a command for your body to feel it, pure from the signal going to the brain for it to signal the part of your body you are experiencing it also in the real world. that's why when you eat spicy food here, you sweat in real life and-"

"the cum," you said so suddenly, processing the piece of information that ties back to your conversation with swan. pure brain command, only keeping the brain alive. yet, you make it make sense by tearing open your significant memory of yours with him. the one that changes your perspective on how real this virtual world is. "and when you made me cum here, i also came in real life."

the glint in wolfe's eyes, full of curiosity, returns with the warmth at your mention. then, you watch as he reaches for the edge of the plate and moves it to the middle of the table side by side. his little spoon is already holding onto the small slice that you didn't get to cut. but he then lifts it up and towards your lips, nudging the spoon against them as you open your lips and smoothly take the cake. your eyes are also watching his, slowly squinting.

"what do you taste?" his tongue also slips out as he watches you licking any remnants of the dessert sticking on your lips.

"coffee, a little of chocolate, dairy-like creamy."

then, the clattering of the spoon against the porcelain plate is followed by his body rising up from the seat and walking to your own side. his body leaning forward and down, hand reaching for your cheek as he didn't hesitate to smash his lips onto yours. yet, his movement is still gentle. your eyes slowly closed as you take it in. a overwhelming sensation that you can't deny but miss.

as he pulls away—a string of saliva connecting both of you—he asks again, "what do you feel?"

simulations in your brain create these feelings, triggered by what's happening inside a virtual space. yet, you can feel your leg twitching under your dress. like it is actually twitching on your bed.

"my heart is beating fast," you breathe slowly, "my cheeks are warm," and with a slight movement from you, your open eyes met his that are so close, "and i feel wet down there."

he pulls you with all his strength up to his standing proximity before kissing you once again, letting the feeling overwhelm you and more. you sense wolfe's hands wrapped around your waist and flatten on your back, holding you tight in his arms as you unconsciously tilt your head; letting him in when you know you aren't supposed to. the memories from your encounter more than three weeks ago come back like rushing waves, hitting you hard as you can't help but hold onto him tight. his hands that envelop you easily move you both around, making you hit the cool surface that was the glass of your window.

moving from his place on your mouth, he trails down your jaw all to the neck as you finally take in the moment to breathe. his hips grind into yours as you also open your legs for him, making his hand reach for the slit of your dress to grasp onto the exposed thigh, lifting the leg up so that he has more access to grind on you. the overwhelming sensation hits you like a ton of bricks as you can't help but moan. the churning wet of your nether region meeting his hardness that you've held onto. yet, you're also gaining some clarity into the many informations that you got and have to piece together.

and when you look to the centre of the room from your side, you see swan in your previous outfit—glowing green outline around her—staring at your obnoxious action with a look of confusion but also of sadness? then, her eyes focus on the man holding tight to you, like it knows something is happening. instantly, he moves back from your neck, heaving. his eyes look into one corner as you watch his eyebrows furrow in an instant, jaw now clenched like he can't believe something is happening right at this moment.

"for fuck sake," he finally voices out, eyes returning to you. "i have to go. i'm sorry we-"

"no, that's okay," you replied quickly, a hand moving to cup his face as he leaned into it. his tongue licks his bottom lip in frustration as he gently settles your leg down and moves away. brushing his suit down before looking back at you, both of you have swollen lips as you felt a mark blooming on your neck.

"i'll pay for us on my way out and i'll fetch the host to pack the tiramisu for you." he nods to himself before he steps back to reach for your face, cupping it with both of his hands before giving you a quick kiss. "and i promise, our next hang out won't take as long to wait as this one," he mumbles before he moves your head to kiss your forehead, a beat too long like he doesn't want to forget your smell.

and so, he gave you a wave before turning away and opening the door, leaving it open as you stared at it. mind is so full of emotions, evidence, insights, observations, and more coming to overload you. how conflicted you are of all of this, on wanting to punish jake shim just like what his dad did to yours. on how the hypotheses you made becomes more clearer to the real truth. and how you have to juggle that with the feeling that is blooming inside for this certain boy who goes by the alias wolfe.

-

sitting by your desk, your hands continue to tremble, jittering against one another on your lap as you blankly stare down at a spot below your monitor. in it, the text cursor continues to blink inside the spreadsheet cells full of holes—all from pure memory power that you noted as many as you can. yet, your nape continues to tingle, reminding you of what a supposed software program that looks like you had told you. just a press and you get the most data of every user in cyberspace implanted into your memory. but your brain isn't fully a computer like the one she has.

a perfect combination of your two sides, perfect for any kind of situation, without a damn clue to point out which is one or the other. and, damn, that still nags you even as you are offline and not able to reach her until you put your disc back. still, doubt always comes back and she seems to know you more than you are to yourself, making you pause whatever you want to do next to think more. maybe it is now in the range of overthinking it. but how can you not when it is said by someone who looks to the ideal version of yourself?

though, it still bothers you in how she realises you aren't fully human and how her power seems to only flow to you…

and so, you raise your hand and bring it near your neck, brushing against the hair behind before going down to feel the protruding square underneath your skin—surface around it nearly smooth out and undetectable if not for the evident mark of sutures on your skin to connect the part that was sliced open. tracing against the faint scar, you stop at where it protrudes the most and with a huge intake of breath, you press it. nothing happens for a few seconds, but as you exhale, you feel prickles spreading. not only the circuits of your robotic arm and leg, but also to the other side. body started to tense to fight back against the sensation, and it still pushes on.

with a gasp, your body is locked with your head tilted back, mouth wide open as you take as many breaths whilst convulsing. eyelids drooping, threatening to close, and you are fighting it. making you see an overlay of numbers appearing in your sight as your brain began to throb. letting your eyes close, you focus on the numbers as it forms into letters, then words, to locations and people's names. listing it one by one as it surges down the list. you can feel your fingers jitters once more, reacting to the overload like it is trying to calculate it.

as it stops abruptly, the force makes you sit upright. and in front of you is the blank screen of your desktop, a reflection of you in the screen. you met your own eyes, seeing just how sunken they've become and how dark the skin beneath your eyes is. your cheeks look more gangly, like a sheet of fat was gone in an instant. it looks like you haven't slept well, yet, your mind doesn't even feel tired, even if you spend every night since your first time going out with jayun and jaehee in cyberspace. and as you blink, you see words written in glowing green colour inside your eyelids and you press onto the keyboard to turn the monitor on before typing away. every blank spot of a person is filled perfectly and your brain is sending you the list in order.

your fingers don't stop typing and you have to remember to blink as you continue to fill in every user that comes across in your mental list. the day still continues as you see the lights and shadows moving on the surface before you, telling of the day's time as you don't stop until everything is written. your half-filled tea cup is left alone as it becomes colder. when you finish, you just feel how stretched out your fingers are and you quickly move the large-size spreadsheet to the usb thumb drive that everyone in the rebellion uses. putting it on the cloud server will be easier for those corpos to know and catch onto something, and it is ironic how one of the most complex technologies out there prefers to engage with semi-analogue technology that was the norm back in the 2000s to 2010s.

after slipping the drive into the pocket of your cargo pants, you run towards the bathroom to get rid of the grime that had been sticking onto your body since the moment you woke up from cyberspace—too engaged with the data fill. but also, the sweat of the moment you had with jake in that restaurant. the cold water is more of a blessing now as it also helps to combat any remaining feeling of lust that still lingers, and also the heat that your chip lets out as you accidentally graze against it. colour came back to your skin as you brush the droplets of water from your body, dapping against the flesh and its artificial counterpart before you grab onto the clothes you had prepared. the white tank top sticks onto your figure as you tuck it beneath your cargo pants, rubbing against the pocket where you felt the small usb stick before you grab your bomber jacket and all your other stuff to be placed in the many pockets you have.

you logged off pretty early in the day as when jake left you behind, you grabbed the packaged leftover tiramisu with you and brought it back to the hotel room. but you knew it was still too dark in both cyber seoul and neo seoul. and so, you actually lie down on the bed in your hotel room, using it like it is meant to be, not like a platform to bring your real world consciouness to a virtual world. and you try to meditate as best as you can until you can see the faintest line of the sun coming from the horizon. that's when you log out. and now, as you step outside for the first time after a few days, the sun is already setting on the other side.

the view of the metro is busier than usual—it is expected when you go out at around rush hour with people going home—yet your sight is much more vigilant than the last time. you've seen some people with discs on their temples, their bodies rigid in their last pose as even you found those who wear them while standing up. a few of them are also found by the stations, sitting on the stairs and the side. head lolling against the nearest surface as their eyes are closed—a few have their lids slightly open, yet no consciousness is seen in them. shivers continue to form and spread as you think of those people you cross, legs not even stopping climbing the uphill road as you now have your hands in your jacket's pocket—the cold biting against your exposed skin, no matter which one is artificially made.

muffled rings come from inside the house as it opens to find the blonde girl opening it, her eyes widening before she quickly ushers you in. you can smell a delicious scent wafting around the house.

"kai's by his desk. hope you're hungry," bahiyyih told you before walking away towards the kitchen, finishing up what she was cooking for the household. turning in the direction of the hallway, you walk towards the room at the end of it to find kai writing down things on the paper. "every thing must stay as analog as possible," you remembered him saying after coming back from the meeting where he brought you, introducing you as their secret weapon where their hideout has minimal amount of screen and more paper.

the room was your aunt's office before she passed. you remembered when you accidentally stumbled upon it to find one wall that is just x-ray scans of her patients, her walking back and forth like she is either contemplating or reflecting on whatever happens in the hospital. her traces are still there, even if it is now becoming your cousins' work area. her cabinet that was storing medicine and her instruments is still there, now locked and dusted as your uncle is trying to preserve it as much as possible.

his android-enhanced hearing caught onto your ruffles as kai turns when you approach. eyebrows lifted as he tucked the papers back onto another stack. you recognise a few of the printed posters for the propaganda campaign bahiyyih was involved in as if it is a relic of every attempt the deviant androids are trying to communicate with the public. kai stands up from his seat so you could sit down, your hands reaching for the pocket, while he turns the idle computer on so that you could share the things you found.

"what have you brought me?" his voice lingers by your ear as you open up the file explorer, going to the one connected to your usb drive where you open the large file you carry with you. glancing at your android cousin, the screen loads with many words as you let the sheets scroll even without you looking. you almost not want to mention it because of the dilemma inside yourself. these are people's real personal data and yet, it's going to be used for something beneficial for your cause. taking in stake of it all in, you take a deep breath in and out before voicing.

"the list of every user on cyberspace." your eyes revert back to him.

his facial expressions change with a slight twitch and nudge. then, he started to chuckle, getting louder, louder, so much that you can't hear the footsteps of your other cousin as she arrives to find her brother cackling in fascination, disbelief, and guile. you felt bahiyyih's hair brushing against your side as she also takes in the table of data—taking control of the mouse so that she can see for herself how extensive the data is you got here. yet, in the faint reflection you could see from the lit-up screen, your face is unreadable. emotions flowing inside you that contradict themselves and you have to process them all. you, who bahiyyih knows as someone more expressive in the vicinity of family, suddenly becomes more distant. and, in the same faint reflection, you didn't notice how her attention is now turning towards you.

"fucking…" kai's voice breaks the tension as you felt him rubbing his hand on your head, a gesture that you were weirded out at first but then realised that it is his way of showing affection—even if it is like a remnant of his original program of becoming 'your dream brother.'

"well fucking done, (y/n)," he continues to scoff in disbelief. your eyes turn to look at your cousins on either side of you, finding the contrast of kai with his wide and conniving smile compared to hiyyih's frown of concern. her eyes catch onto yours before her brother talks once again.

"tell (y/n) what you found, hiyyih." kai's tone of pride continues on as you return to look towards her, watching her take a breath before stepping away towards her desk. while kai is more messy with stacks of papers scattered around the desk, bahiyyih's has more notebooks on them. all of the information she gathered is written and organised in their own books, collected into one space that can be easily recalled.

and so, she opened one of her notebooks and turned the monitor on before opening your now out-of-date spreadsheet of the cyberspace users. some of the cells are colour-coordinated as she scrolls the screen down, whilst opening the page to the one that also has a highlight on it.

"i've been tracking down a few of the names you've listed here. searching through the old internet and the databases we have access to and i found a few. but this one specifically," her cursor points to a highlighted name that mirrors the name written in her book. "he is the one that hasn't been seen in a while."

"what'd you mean?" your voice appears as you approach her screen now. she opened the hyperlink beside the main data you've given her. and that's when you notice the name of the column pinned to the top of the spreadsheet:

last seen/whereabouts.

opening the link, you are met with a page full of videos lined in a grid. the play button is overlaid on top of it as it tempts you to click on it. yet, bahiyyih scrolls down more, seeing how it is made chronologically, and you are not surprised. united korea is fully brimming with cameras. in one of the history lessons you had from homeschool, you remembered how back in the 2010s and 2020s, south korea has a prevalent problem with hidden cameras. footage taken without any consent was then made part of a content behind a paywall for people to look at. regardless of sex, gender, or age, everyone can become a victim. the collapse of the old internet and social media from the cyber world war and the aftermath helped to stop it in the most extreme way possible. yet, cameras, especially cctvs, are still often found all around you and they can detect your face easily.

the scrolling stops as she hastily opens the video, showing the look of what is supposed to be one of the smaller streets in neo seoul as someone walks down the road. he is holding a suitcase and looks to be an office worker, hand tugging on his tie to loosen it whilst walking. his face looks clear and recognisable as the video continues before it stops when he is gone. then you look at the recording date and time. instantly, you felt your heart drop.

"this camera is the closest one to his house," bahiyyih added, "and this is the last time he has ever been seen."

"three months ago…" the words echo in your head as the nagging feeling comes back. your pinned hypotheses show up alongside the sentence jake had said across that dining table in that intimate-looking restaurant. and as you remembered every detail of the thought of it all and the new information you get from swan, saliva starts to form and you try to swallow it down.

outside, the wind rustles as you hear the noise of thunder far away. the noises coming in quick succession as the pitter-patter of rain is being replaced by a storm—one that is not going to stop soon as you eyed the dark clouds on your way to this very house. around the same time, the doorbell rings once again as bahiyyih stands up from her chair and greets the door. your hand clutches onto the backrest of bahiyyih's chair, clenching more and more as you thought back about that little theory of yours.

if it is true, that man is as good as dead. but you don't believe it until you see it yourself.

hastily, you sat down at bahiyyih's place and looked at the page of the list of videos, before returning to the spreadsheet to see that she found the address of the guy. grabbing a pen and paper, you scribbled down the address as you quickly folded it and put it in one of your cargo pants pockets. turning your head, kai looks at you to see a face that has many creases. his lingering smile fades slowly when he looks at your face, reading into it as you watch how his eyebrows crease in confusion.

heavy footsteps are heard from the doorway as you see your uncle soaping wet from the sudden rainfall, bahiyyih behind him as he looks into the room to find you and his son.

"hi, (y/n). the rain's pouring hard and the weather prediction says that it could last all night. it's better for you to stay the night, though. your old room is usable. i'll give you your bedspread after i shower," he says, taking control of the situation as his eyes gaze at the two of you. a slight smile on his face when you nod before he walks to his room. bahiyyih stood by the doorway, eyes still glancing more towards you than her own brother.

"come to the dining table. the food's getting colder if it waits for you more," she says before turning her figure towards the open living space. standing up, you look back once again towards kai, letting him see the uncertainty seeping through your gaze, before you turn to follow his sister to eat—your stomach reminding you of it as you realise you hadn't eaten all day.

the clinks and clanks of the utensils moving against the plate echo in the room as the speaker is playing one of the older albums that your uncle owns. you sit across from him, now in his usual nighttime outfit of t-shirt and shorts as the android siblings sit on the sides facing each other. because those two don't need to eat, they usually sit there and try to make a topic to talk about, adding more to what to do at the dining table. however, these two are quiet; the tension is becoming so thick that it pushes against your skin. glancing to your side, you find kai looking at his sister, then at the table where he puts his hands. while at the opposite side, you find bahiyyih looking at you. eyes moving but only at your vicinity and nothing else. and she doesn't look away for a bit, even when both of your eyes met before she gestures towards the plate of food in front of you, telling you to finish eating.

your eyes stare at the familiar ceiling, hand resting on your temple as you don't find the familiar tiny disc on it anymore. mind is scrambling while thinking of the many informations and how to sort them out. when you graze the temple once again to not find a little circle sticking onto your skin, you feel incomplete. taking all of it in, you did log onto cyberspace nearly every night since you used it. becoming a pattern of routine that you unconsciously decided to make and have been doing for nearly a month. and the saliva continues to form at a sickening realisation.

but you still want more. it's not enough.

knocks startle you as you turn and face the source, seeing the shadow from beneath the door. walking towards it, you open it to find bahiyyih standing there. you remembered the stares she had on you the entire night, clenching your hand against the door as you watched her raise her open palm beside her head—to let you know that she meant no harm.

"can i discuss something with you?" her voice sounded in a whisper, so soft that the rush of wind could cover it if she didn't speak right in front of you. you look back at her face to see the slight frown she has that is permanent. the same frown you see at the dining table. the same frown you first notice when you turn to her at kai's desk. with a nod, you step aside to let her inside.

she waits for you to sit down on the bed before sitting on your right. eyes looking down at your lap as you felt her shifting her body, glancing from the corner of your eyes to find her upper body facing you. "what do you want to discuss about?" you mumbled, sight returning to your legs that are obscured with shadows as more of it touches the ground.

bahiyyih sighs before replying, "you." you fully pivot to face her, watching her frown deepen as your jaw clenches.

"i've noticed you look more tired than ever these past few weeks. whenever you visit us at the shop to tell us progress, your hands," she glances down to yours on your lap, "they were fidgeting so much. like you are aggitated about… something. my guess is that your intel job is the reason for it, which i will noted as a symptom of over usage of cyberspace." hearing her worries makes you realised that, yes, you had been using it too much. even if it's just a nighttime thing, you done it all night until the break of dawn when you finally log out.

"but, i think there's more to it," she added, "something that you didn't tell us; that you've been hiding."

and with that realisation, you felt tears of emotional turmoil created in your eyes. mind spiralling on the many things you try to obscure, but also to follow with your mission and main objective of it all. you have responsibilities you have to do and your plan of doing it continues, yet doubt comes sprouting one by one.

bahiyyih notices your silence before continuing to talk, "is it because of the neo pyongyang mission in a few days?"

"no-" you reply immediately, "not because of that." glancing down, you find your hands fidgeting so much and you control it as best as you can by stopping. yet, it still struggles against your control, wanting to show you how your unconscious is telling.

without thinking much, your right hand holds onto bahiyyih's. your cybernetic arm touches hers as you also feel how her hold is warmer. blue blood pumping through the veins with the machinery—to simulate the warmth as yours doesn't have the luxury as it's only flowing because the wires from the chips told the two limbs so. her hands grasp yours as you look at them before returning to her face. "please don't tell kai and anyone about this."

"what-"

"promise me, hiyyih?" you move your hand and curl your fingers except for your pinky. she looks down on it, then on your face once again, before mirroring your pose; joining your pinkies together in a promise as she nods.

with fingers interlocking, you take a deep breath before you let it out, "i've gotten into the inner circle of the corpos in cyberspace."

the android looks back at you in confusion as you resume, "yeah, it's the next generation. intelee, park corp, shim laboratories, the kim media conglomerate. the one who is the same generation as me and will be next in line to replace their parents. and…" you don't know the best words to describe this because with any attempt to obscured it as possible, the message becomes muddier instead.

"and i see this as an opportunity to get close to them, to know what they're thinking. to find the next best step into this intelligence position that i find myself in. then i found out two of those six have hidden siblings and i got close to them."

"whose siblings?" she asks, tone going upwards at the end of her question.

"jake shim's and evan lee's," you answered, a growing smile on your face when you think about them. "they introduced me to a lot of things. things that they can't do, but also i can't do. you know how," you gesture to your own body, "this situation makes me have to stay hidden. and because of that, i don't have that many people whom i can call my friends other than you and kai. but hanging out with them makes me feel… human."

you blink the tears away before they ever drop, "in cyberspace, i don't have to hide that i'm a cyborg. i can become fully human there, doing whatever things a human does in their spare time. and, i realised that they aren't normal human either. these two girls don't have the same freedom their older siblings have. it's like they are a pawn…" your last words caught you off guard as you make the realisation, "and i'm one too," subtly shaking your head after the little whisper you hoped bahiyyih doesn't notice

"but the plan continues. there's no going back with this one."

"what are you doing?" gone is the sadness in her voice and replaced with a firm undertone.

"brainwash them with our ideologies," you stare back at her, jaw clenched hard as you steel your gaze at her, even if there is still a slip of doubt flowing in your head. "these two girls are the most vulnerable out of all of them. and we have to get someone inside to do it as well. and because i have access, it is my responsibility to spread it out."

"gosh," bahiyyih's eyes widened, shaking her head as she looked away from you for a few seconds. returning to find that the steel eyes you are showing still aren't as sturdy as she thinks they are. coming from her point of view, you are doing the right thing instead of what kai is doing. bahiyyih has always been more on the speaking type, protests, spreading information and awareness, playing it elegantly and in a grassroots way. but, after doing that for so long with not much progress, kai pushed forward with a more hands-on approach. an ideological battle between two androids who already deviated from their set programs and can think freely.

yet, even in her gasp that is full of pride that you're doing something her way if she can do it herself, she still notices the doubt that is crawling through your gaze.

"you're regretting it?" she voices out, and you replied with more shaking of the head.

"i- i don't know. it's because, it's," you reflect back to that table with jake sitting across from you, your hands interlocked with each other. to that first night where you sit by his side, eating artificial ddeokbokki. to the night where he had taken you, making you feel the very first orgasm you have completely satisfied with, even if done virtually. that's when a drop of warm tear trails down your cheek, the care you felt from him shaking your belief of where he comes from: a family of murderers. the family that killed your parents.

"i got feelings for jake shim. he was the one who found me on my first night in cyberspace. and he's… he's nice. but i don't know if it is a facade or not." letting out, you felt some of the weight on your shoulders fall. your pinky finger is still connected to hers as strong as ever. but tears continue to form and fall. "i'm supposed to hate him with all my entire being. i met him under an alias, then we bonded, talked with each other about many things. but then, with the intel tools i have, i came to know that he is jake, that shim jaeyun who is the son of the person who created you. and i feel conflicted about that feeling. then i connected with his little sister and created the plan to brainwash her, to justify my beliefs once again. but we met up, and i got confused once again."

bahiyyih watches as she looks at her cousin, tears falling down her cheeks as she tries her best to take in every emotion you let out. scanning every movement of your face to find her system overloaded with so many conflicting emotions showing up at the same time. wiping your tears and snot away, you brainwash yourself with your assurance before returning to her. "there's no going back with that plan and thank you for being my listening ear. i still have to think about the neo pyongyang visit and what to prep for myself. and, i must remember that have to hate him for the freedom and recognition of you and the other deviants."

bahiyyih doesn't say anything to your words, her mind also processing everything you just tell her now. she closes in on you and kisses your forehead—a sign of her affection gotten from her old program as the dream sister—before she finally lets go of the pinky. standing up, she sends you one last smile before mouthing, "i'm glad you're okay," before zipping her mouth up; the final resolution of her keeping tonight's conversation only for the two of you.

as the sun shone the next day when you left your uncle's and cousins' home—bahiyyih and kai standing by the door as he reminded you to prepare for your "trip," while she looks back at you with a solemn smile—your feet carry you downwards in the streets of bukhan hills as you rub against the clothes you wore yesterday. feeling everything you've brought in its place before reaching for one of the pockets to find the piece of paper you've written on. opening the folds, you scan through the written words as you check on the neighbourhood name, remembering which of the seoul metro lines could bring you there.

the stations are as busy as ever, especially those who are going towards the city centre where business usually resides: in the area surrounding han river, both on north and south seoul. your eyes look back onto the screen showing the lines of seoul metro, one line being highlighted to see the stops they go before going to the next. your finger trails across the image, feeling the ticklish sensation of your fingertips pierce through a little bit of the hologram where you found the station you're looking for. walking to the gate with your phone beside you, it recognises your card as you gently place it before going towards your train platform.

you stood as best as you could to the back of the cart, near the segregated area where androids stand, leaning against the wall beside it. people in their suits, ties, and dresses on their way to work as you observed them and the next station lit up on the screen above the doors. returning your gaze to the android section, they all seemed to be stone-cold frozen, their program telling them to stand idly whilst heading to their own stations. that's when you see one of the female-looking androids' eyes flicker before turning towards you. the coldness in her eyes disappears as she looks you up and down, recognising you, before she shows a little smile.

a deviant who still does their work as told by their programs.

you must respect it because it's rarer than the deviants you find on the street. deviants like kai and bahiyyih usually deviate because they've got something horrible happening to them, in the way they are treated or used. but a deviant like this is rarer because it means that they still care about the task or job they do. how they deviate because of their own volition, of learning about the world around them, instead of being made to deviate. that's the whole argument that kai and bahiyyih had that strains their relationship. you noticed the tension ever since kai told you about the trip last month. and the dinner last night solidified your thoughts as it still strains them. bahiyyih—who usually matched with her brother—seems softer now, compliant with doing her tasks, while kai is more forward on the networking and strategy side.

looking down at the uniform the android uses, you find the logo etched on the chest of a retirement home. and, you can't help but let out a warm smile at the thought of this specific android staying to work there instead of full-on deviating like many of the others. based on the latest statistics, the elderly are the most open to the thought of android liberation—recognising android as their own species instead of a machine created by a human. you've talked to some of them when they see you reading physical books, how they struggled through a lot, like a worldwide financial crisis, a worldwide pandemic, and then another world war. how there are many more of them because of the decreasing birth rates during the 2020s, before it spikes again when united korea was formed and grew.

you turn back to face the doors when you hear the sound of the station's name you're going to transit at. squeezing your way through the pool of people, you stand in front of the door with glass windows on it. the train running inside the tunnels as the concrete wall greets you, letting you see your own reflection as you can now see what bahiyyih has been saying. and also the result of staying in as you still see the puffiness on your face—both from delicious food and a deep sleep even if it's only for three hours. the concrete wall fades away as the view of the platform greets you with its neon lines, making you remember the station you arrived at when you first log into cyberspace. its grungy look does not compare with the pristine one in the virtual world, though the grunginess is the reason why it feels more human to you.

walking down the pavement, you look between your phone map and the address as you follow the path suggested. you past commercial buildings that have a few of their neon lights lit up. hologram advertisement running at the corner of major intersections as you walk inward away from it. some of the ground-level tenants are of restaurants and cafes where you see androids working there, but also some humans as well. yet, you continue to walk when you see the side of the building you remembered was in the video, finding the camera tucked in the corner of the wall. following the path for a few more, you finally arrived at what looks to be an old apartment building that still uses button calls to get in. pressing the number of the unit you wrote down, it rings and rings with no response. so, you grab onto one of your devices that your uncle gave you to override any locks: a master key that will override any locks that needed a keycard or keypad. but then you found that it doesn't need any of it when you pushed the door open and found that it actually has a keyhole.

someone must forgotten to lock it, as you think while letting the door close. dimly-lit stairs greeted you as you observed just how dilapidated the interior is. watermarks etched onto wallpapered walls as it slowly sheds away when the glue turns bad. your eyes trail the stairs as you see the door with foggy glass and a sign written with the numbers of the units on the floor, finding your person's unit there.

the inside of the hallways looks way worse. light brown wall now stained with unknown liquid, most are waters leaking from above, but also some stains of blood and maybe cum as well. the place looks more like a criminal den than a home, and it makes you wonder if there is actually someone living here other than the man you want to investigate. you walk by the doors of the other units until you find the one you want. raising your hand, you knock on the door with your knuckles. no one is answering. you tried to twist the handle, but it doesn't work. you knock again, hoping that the man inside will be panicked enough to know that someone is trying to get inside his home. yet, no reaction comes from the inside.

you learned back to what information bahiyyih has of this man. that the last time he was seen walking down the street you just walked by was three months ago. and with that, you resolve yourself as you take a step back before bashing your foot against the door right where the knob is. one kick, two, and the last one bursts the door open as you stumble inside.

the first thing you notice is the smell. the smell of something rotten, messy—not like someone had lived there in months. the pungent smells kick your senses into alert as you gaze at the adjoining living area and the kitchen. the windows are all closed and you notice a leftover food on the small dining table, now covered in mould. as much as you want to get away, you have to follow the smell as you know this isn't normal. walking towards the slightly opened door, you are greeted with such a shocking and saddening view.

you recognise the clothes to be the man's and he is lying there on his bed—not even changing them from the clip you watched yesterday. the smell is stronger as you see where it came from: the feces, piss, and any other excrement that he lets out. his hands are on his side, so skinny that you see the skin creases into the bones from the loss of muscles. his hair is longer as blood still flows inside some parts of the idle body. the clothes look bigger as you remembered the way it fits perfectly on him in the video. looking towards the head, his eyes are closed as you see the pristine disc sticking onto this temple. cyberspace stimulating his brain continuously—the only reason he is alive when his body is rotting from no control over it.

the view haunts you as you try your best not to tear up. that everything you worry about—your talks with swan and with wolfe—they are true and it is real. you think of the best way to save the man as you walk away, taking a random mug of his to throw away the content inside before filling it with water. stepping back, you notice just how dry and wrinkly his lips are as you kneel down as best as you can, lifting the glass a little bit as you try your best give him water. yet, the water didn't get in, and that's when you realised something: his chest isn't even heaving for air.

you try to think back to any conversation you had that mention about this, but you found none. all you could remember is that cyberspace stimulates the brain, but it looks like it only simulates some parts of the brain instead.

this man has given up the real world to go live in cyberspace. the system has already created a copy of himself in cyberspace where he can do whatever he wants instead of working. you gently press down against his left chest to not feel any heartbeat, yet you still continue, hoping that you just pressed the wrong part when you also try to feel his pulse at his wrist to find nothing. the man is a husk of himself as you carefully cover your mouth, sobbing into it as you feel the shivers spreading across yourself that even your cybernetic limbs are reacting with tickles.

and so, with the knowledge of him being copied in the system and his consciousness fully transferred in cyberspace, you reached for his disc on his temple. at first, you thought that there would be a resistance—that the disc would stick to the temple of someone in cyberspace and cannot be forcefully pulled off until said person wants to log off from the inside. but the man's disc slips easily as you lift it up, his body not even moving for the slightest as you forcefully pull away the device that makes him transfer into another universe. like he already accepted that life instead of this.

you quickly wrapped the disc with the paper and tucked it into the pocket. reaching for your phone, you quickly dial 119 as you try your best to don't sob.

"what your emergency?" the dispatcher says on the other side.

"i- i can stay for long because i have work to do," you started with an alibi, "but i smell something rotten from my next-door neighbour and he is not responding to any calls or knocks. i, i can't help but bust down the door and i found him covered in his own piss and he is so frail. i, i don't know, i-"

"what's the address?" the dispatcher asks once again as you told them, adding more flair about not being able to be there because of work before you hear the dispatcher cuts of the line. instantly, you stepped away from the room, heart shaterring to pieces of the realisation that a little machine like this could do as you step away into the streets to breathe in the outside air. going the other way instead of the way you came, you try as best as you can to blend in with the surroundings. but the tears can't help but form as you then remembered what bahiyyih had said to you at the shop.

"i never see people around (y/n)'s age on the streets again."

and you realised that it might be because some of them are doing the same thing as the man did: escaping real life to live in cyberspace. leaving their bodies behind with just remnants of neuron activity. where their consciousness is already elsewhere. where they stay too long in cyberspace, their physical body dies.

behind you, you heard the faint siren of an ambulance as you continued to walk away. taking everything in as one emotion emerges victorious under the turmoil and tears you have.

rage.

-

from your side of the window, you see the sun slowly setting; going out through the main highway towards neo pyongyang. you lean your head against the car side as you glance at kai beside you. the bags you and the others have packed are resting by your feet as you look back in the driver's rear mirror to see one of the deviant androids, hyunjin, driving down the road. beside him is yeji with her high ponytail, scanning the road as you moved quickly into the night.

as you go out of neo seoul, you can definitely see the significant difference. gone were the neon lights scattered around buildings, lighting the cityscape 24/7 as greenery greets you. some of the billboard do appeared to be holographic. but farther and farther away from the city, it uses the large billboard with banners covered from top to bottom. the buildings are all mostly three stories high instead of the ones that swallow you in the city. some of the towns you passed by have the technology that derives from the one you've seen. a few of the farmhands you saw are androids you recognise—their same model and faces.

but the distinctness is much more visible as you gaze at the map by the car's dashboard to see that you are crossing the former demilitarized zone. relics of the walls that divided the korean peninsula for nearly 100 years are still there. buses carried what looks to be tourists—domestic and international—to look at the zone that divided two nations as your seemingly sedan car blends in with the others with the highway taking you across the former buffer zone. looking at the sign of the exits, you've seen the sign for kaesong city, the former trading area for both north and south koreans that is now growing to resemble more like incheon with its close proximity to china.

it takes about three hours to reached neo pyongyang, a city that has distinct grids compared to neo seoul that is just a city that is ever-growing. the influence of the aesthetic of neo seoul has also arrived there with the neon lights and colourful advertisements. yet, it is still more subdued. maybe because it is the home of the government and politics of united korea, where neo seoul is the home of the economy. maybe because it is created to be more formal and industrialised, it doesn't look as chaotic. it looks like the seoul you've seen in the museum, growing to catch up to its inspiration that have grown to be an international hub of business and innovation. and neo pyongyang, which had a late start, has to keep up so that those two can go along side by side.

large buildings scattered as the lone car drives in the night, headlights turned off to not raise any suspicion of your location. the shim laboratories manufacturing facility is built at the outskirts of neo pyongyang, an area large enough to build and store massive amounts of machinery of creation, from their everyday appliances to androids. white lights lit up the outlines of the enormous facility as the car bumped against the dirt road. yeji's eyes peering into the night as kai looks at his side of the window. in the front, a silhouette of a truck rested beside a few clusters of trees. lights greet you as a beam of flashlights looks through the front window, then to the plate number.

"we found them," kai mentioned as he had a smug smile on his face. the vehicles shuts down and blends into the shadows. stepping out, you see the truck labelled shim laboratories up close as you see two other androids you've seen the model in an advertisement whilst walking through the gwanghwamun square. their features are more bare, making them blend in with the other androids rather than the extreme transformation other deviant androids do to not look like their counterparts.

"you've heard of jeno and karina before," hyunjin spoke, representing the leader of the deviants in neo seoul along with yeji, "they're the leaders from neo pyongyang. and this is (y/n)." he continues when you feel an arm wrapping around your shoulder, seeing kai's stature beside with pride in his smile.

"our secret weapon. you're also famous amongst the deviants here, you've met some of them when doing your jobs?" jeno added as you nodded. you have been to neo pyongyang before for your mission, giving information to deviants and their fixers here in nightclubs. remembering that one of them had this eccentric blue and pink aesthetic that makes her not even look like an android. another time was when an android came to you and gave you something to bring back with a sleight of hand. even if you don't know the streets of neo pyongyang that well, you know that this place has more androids than humans, making the deviants able to blend in more, even if they want to stay as uniform as possible.

"well, you've read the plans yesterday?" karina asked as she looked between all of you, her hair tied high up as she tucked her guard hat on. jeno and karina's models are specifically made for security—usually made to be sold to park corp—hence why they could blend in with both the android and human security measures. but they are also still employed at the facility, being one of the few deviants working in their programmed job. they will be a good contact for you for doing your plan to retrieve parts.

nodding your head, you watch as the others also nod in agreement as all of you follow jeno to the back of the truck. opening it, the lights turn on as you find crates that you can identify as ones to transport androids—a life-size doll packaging but looks more like a coffin. seeing the model numbers of the androids around you, you felt nerves crunching from inside you as you remembered that you aren't one of them. that you can't be easily concealed like they are and get in easily. when you see karina hand you a box of the costume you had to wear, you feel her hand grazing yours.

"i'm glad you're on our side," she mutters as she shows the red glint in her right eye, which you mimic with your own. hyunjin, yeji, and kai stand all around you. their skins retracting one by one as they undressed from their clothes. you could see their model and serial numbers etched into the plate where their hearts are inside. their limbs also have their own serial numbers as you turned to see kai, now without his hair as it retracts back into his scalp.

"i never see you this… bare," you chuckle, "you've always seen my limbs turning white i have to change it."

"well, it's the only way we can convince them to bring us in there. you need to tuck yourself deep into the back if they decide to step in and open one of the crates," he said, tapping against the button of your nose as you swipe his hand away. in times like this is when you miss the playful kai. he had always been playful when you first got to know him, just like what a brother does when they have a sister—annoying the hell out of her. but, kai has changed as the deviants' rebellion continues to progress. gone was his playful side as he involved more of his seriousness, to get himself in the right mindset as one of the leaders of the revolution you all are building right now.

as jeno and karina help the bare androids get into their respective crates, you turn to walk towards the trees. being mostly flesh means that you still have a certain level of modesty to undress in front of other people. you watch your right arm retracting its skin—as if it wants to join the androids too. though your job is easier now because you are already in the costume, they also have to change into theirs after arriving at the loading dock. lifting your shirt up to see your black undergarments by your chest, you quickly unfold the top as you turn it around. the janitor outfit shows an android model number at the front and the text that says android at the back. as you slip into it and feel how fit it is to your body, you feel a sharp sensation on your nape.

thinking that it might be a mosquito biting onto your skin, you reach back to rub against it when you reach the protruding skin with the chip inside, and in that press, you feel a force pulling your head back. eyelids shaking, you felt the sensation from when you had to access the data again. yet this one seemed more tame than the first. wanting to hold back, you knew you had to let it in and be consumed by you instead.

when the force pulls you back upright, an interface blooms in front of you. glowing green grids trailing the ground and expanded into the darkness; the same type of interface you have when you log into cyberspace. when you move around, it changes colours to red as a text box shows, listing the information about the soil and the minerals in it. blinking to see that the interface isn't going away, you push forward your forearms so you can see them in your peripheral vision. the interface box shows information about your appendages.

left: left antebrachium (left forearm) right: serial number: UNKNOWN

what is going on-

"(y/n), are you ready?" you heard jeno's voice calling you out, approaching you with his footsteps crunching on the ground and breaking some twigs.

"give a me 20 seconds," you reply and quickly change your bottoms and tie the bandana around your neck before tucking it into the top; a last barrier of obscurity if the mission was compromised.

walking to put the box by the sedan, you tuck your hair into the hat as you wear it. then, you climb inside the truck as you reach the very back that jeno and karina conceales with one of the empty closed crates—which the plan is to put the ones that have already been converted into it to be sent as shipments the next day. whilst you and the three androids with you are going to the warehouse, jeno and karina will try their best to convert other guards to get in with the plan, so all of the next shipments out of the warehouse will be driven to a safe location. you don't know how ethical it will be because this newly converted android will not know anything and just follow their commands. but, with teeth grinding on each other, you sit down beside the duffel bags of the costumes and weapons that you bring from neo seoul.

your eyes scan the information that is a barrier to you, showing the android model number alongside the look of the android as you see kai's face—the HG200 face that kai has. the truck lurches forward as it rumbles against the ground. you try your best to tuck against the wall near the barrier that is two to three thick boxes of androids deep. holding your breath as long as possible before exhaling, feeling your heart beat so fast.

the truck stops as you hear the muffled voice from the front, where jeno and karina are sitting.

"android agent 156 and 171 reporting," jeno said as you can hear the sound of the male on the side.

"the package?" another voice calls as you hear karina answer.

"recalled androids," a concise one as you slowly take in a deep breath. a loud clanking noise comes from the back of the truck as a sliver of light seeps into the cracks between a few of the crates. you peek from the cracks to see a guard with an automated rifle hanging on their front, finger by the trigger as your system records their appearance. the green grid shows once again as it changes to red before an interface box shows the real person behind the helmet—in the same format as the one you get from cyberspace.

your hand reacted before you let your gasp out, quieting it at the right time as you watched the guard approach closer. scanning at every crate and looking at the number, yet their eyes couldn't see yours behind the cracks and shadows. and as the dark envelops you once again as the door closes, you let out a huge breath as you blink your eyes slowly. the truck goes forward once more as it moves around the big facility. the road is smoother with asphalt and concrete as you return to the bags to prepare the rest of the androids for their equipment. you grab a loaded pistol and tuck it into the holster tailored inside the janitor costume's pants as a hidden pocket.

the truck stops once again as the back door opens. the lights of the docking area basking the inside before they switch the interior bulbs on. the two androids help move the crates for you and open the crates for the others as they rise to sit up. you pass the bags quickly to the front as the three others change into the costumes. your right hand is doing most of the job as it doesn't have any fingerprints—so you can't be easily identifiable. the inteface screams in your sight as it scans the new area, the new people around you, and how it seems to read your mind as it shows you the map of the shim laboratories' grounds. tagging each room and building one-by-one as you read out the area's name:

"r&d, appliance manufacturing, android manufacturing, warehouse…" and it seems that kai is the only one noticing how you mumbled beneath your breath. he looks into your eyes to see that they are blank. like you are dozing off, eyes looking elsewhere, or eyes looking at information that you can only see.

shutting the crates close, the androids now crouch down to grab their weapons. you walk and step out to stand by jeno and karina, the navigation still showing in your vision as you are obscured by the open doors of the box truck's container. the other three androids' mission is to go to the warehouse and convert as many androids as possible. while your mission is to locate the control room of said warehouse. the system reacts as it zooms in on the android manufacturing area you were mumbling to yourself.

your eyes start to move around as you look at the room like it is a schematic, peeking from the edge to identifying every camera that might be posted and how the open truck doors at the back help obscure the costume changes. when you reach the control room you target, you have to hijack the cameras for any of their suspicious actions.

"the android manufacturing and warehouse will be to the right of the loading dock," you spoke before glancing back, hand moving in the direction as jeno and karina nods their head, knowing that your path is right. "i'll be taking my leave first because i have to open the door for you. try to disperse so that you won't be suspicious." blinking away from the map, you return your gaze to the rest of the team as your cousin continues his smirk—not only because of how you are helping with the timing reminder, but also of the little pause you had with yourself that only he had noticed.

and so, you take a deep breath and step out of the threshold of the truck's open back doors. letting your body try to balance the stiffness and relaxation of how an android trained in this type of facility will look when walking. reaching by the door, your right hand instinctively reaches for the keypad area as its skin retracts, letting the small jolt go out to the pad that confused you as you watch the written words showing up only in your sight.

door opening - loading dock hallway.

in an instant, your right eye twitches as it scans the area, seeing one side of your sight blurry with grid lines as it tracks the items in the room, showing you a glimpse of its information until it is gone 10 seconds later. a white arrow shows up as you see the above view of the map that was shown, and you follow the arrow.

the instinct to gaze at your cybernetic arm as you walk makes you think about this whole additional ordeal of how you are able to access hacking powers just by the limb being there. you aren't like the android who are supercomputers that could definitely hack systems. yet, you feel your nape getting warmer, as if it is getting the information to do it from it, which reminds you of what swan told you. you felt that your senses were more enhanced every time you went to cyberspace, like it was more attuned and in sync between the two sides of you. not only of the data scraping, but now with the ability to hack machines with your android limb and the cyberspace interface now showing up for you in real life. yet, swan's words ring in your mind because she knows something about the chip that you don't.

which means: what is this chip that your parents sew into you, other than to connect your artificial limbs to your neurons?

passing hallways upon hallways, you walk as you continue to follow the emerging white arrows. yet, you can't help but look to the side: some areas have windows to show the supply chain processes. machines creating machines as they assemble uniformly and in a timely matter, creating a consistent amount of produce by the day and even until the night because the machines aren't going to stop unless something says otherwise. you caught onto one of the machine creating microchips that you know are important in this era of the world—a best seller for shim laboratories other than their androids and their everyday appliances like screens. there are also other rooms that are empty with lights turned off, but looks to be office rooms made for human supervisors. another one is of a meeting room where you see one of the janitor androids cleaning up. those moments take you into the realisation of where you are and you can't help but think if your parents have ever set foot in those rooms before; prototyping their r&d result to see if they worked or not.

you walk unamusingly across other janitors and guards—most of them are androids as you just walk past them while hiding your eyes beneath your cap so they won't scan and identify you. you continue until you reach a three-way intersection. signs before you pointing to different directions. the left for the android manufacturing and warehousing. the right is for cyberspace manufacturing and development.

the determined walk halts in milliseconds when you read those two differing sections. the system seems to recognise it too as it doesn't show the path with the white arrows. in that moment, you could be seen as an android making a decision within the program because of stopping so suddenly. but you can't help it when you feel just how warm your chip is; seeing the words "cyberspace" etched. like it is reacting to it. like it wants to know how it is developed. taking one step forward, you felt a slight tugging sensation pulling you towards the right-side path. you grit your teeth to get rid of this magnetic sense as you use your force to walk you to the left. the warm chip burns still on your nape as you see the white arrow showing up once again to lead towards your destination. a slight glance behind your shoulder is enticing you as you hastily walk down the hallway, ignoring the impulsivity, so that you can reach another set of buildings that store the android section through the connected hallway.

more rooms were scattered across the two hallways as you looked at one of the windows to see the machinery that creates the androids. from the shape of their head, their body, their limbs, all scattered and assembled into one by the machines. eyes closed as it is being transported into a queuing system to be put into the testing area, which will be conducted the next day. the map shows up in your vision as you ask for it with your mind, showing the overhead area of the android section. the rooms with parts and blue blood are put farther away than where you are. your sight looks to the other side to see the large room titled warehouse, with two doors near where you are and farther, which is the system unconsciously pinned for you to remember. then you scan the map to see the control room you are supposed to go to: a few levels up from where you are standing.

continue on the path, you see this massive door guarded by two guards where the warehouse is—both are human. they don't seem to notice anything weird about you as you continue to walk past them towards another set of sliding doors, one that has a screen on the top of it and two buttons on the side.

the floor number goes down before the door of the elevator opens, letting you in as you turn around to face the door as it closes. you watch as the floor climbs up to the control room of the android section. glancing behind you, you notice just how high up you are as you caught onto the view of the other side—of androids getting smaller and smaller—when you hear the chime as you pivot to see from the screen that you have arrived at floor 5: how this warehouse is five floors tall. across from you are four doors: a janitor's closet and a server room on one side, an emergency exit across the hallway from the elevator, and a large set of doors of the control room on the other side. walking towards the closet, you open the door to find all the tools pristine and tidy. a cart resting in the middle of the room as you quickly pick up the necessary items before going inside.

pushing the cart in front of you, you stood by the door leading to the monitor room as you scanned your hand against the scanner before the door opened smoothly. inside are two men sitting across from each other, one by the window of the manufacturing side, the other by the warehousing side. a whole rack of consoles sitting in the middle, two steps down to create this distinctness of the room that looks much fancier than it should be. the chairs where the people responsible sits in work hours are now empty as they all went home and only these guards are there for the overnight shift. one of the guards turns to look at you as you continue walking, pushing the cart as you heard him grumble, "just the janitor. i thought it was someone else."

"how late has it actually been that the android is already here to clean the room up." the other across from him said in reply as you push the cart behind the first guy. his music bleeds out from his earbud—courtesy of the creation of shim laboratories—as you take soft steps before you put one hand on his jaw and the other by his scalp, grabbing him from behind. his reaction was too late as you snapped his neck and he became unconscious.

"it's only been 8. don't they clean up at-" he heard a thud behind him and swivelled his chair, finding his workmate slumped to the side with the floor. gravity slowly pulling him down to fall off the chair he was just sitting in and leaning back.

"hey, you ok-" the guard nearly stands up, eyes on the slumping body. yet, even not far from the cushion of his chair, a set of hands reaches for the same area and twists the head as another crack sounded. he quickly slumps against his chair as you emerge behind him. right hand returning to the porcelain white as you let out a huge sigh.

pulling them one by one, you dragged them towards the janitor's closet, letting them sit leaning against the wall and each other before darkness consumes them as you close and lock the door with one of their keycards. returning to the control room, you toss the card to the stash of their combined belongings as you stand by the wall of monitor screens showing ever-changing feeds of camera angles throughout the facility, except with a few that stay on one angle that overlooks the warehouse. the open palm of your right hand rests against the pad of the console when the holographic keyboard would show up. you watch as some of the camera glitches on the screen. on one screen, two guards walk a few meters from each other and as one stumbles against another passing guard, the other reaches his hand to hold the android guard's skin as you can see it pause. the side profile of jeno is familiar to you, so you can see that his and karina's plan is working—to convert as many guard androids as possible—before it glitches out from your hijacking.

while on the other screen, you see a janitor walking by the door of the warehouse you just went past. another janitor passes 10 seconds later, before it quickly pauses and jitters—like an android malfunctioning as the human guards look at him and approach closer. not knowing that behind them, one is snapping his neck while the other is headbutted by the butt of a pistol. those two turn to look at the camera as you find kai and yeji's faces while hyunjin slowly gets up from his faux error. your right hand doesn't let go as the footage glitches out and is replaced by the looping image of the hallway. all of the ones you thought about have been hijacked as you then walked towards the console by the large tinted glass window. you press the button as you hear rumbling beneath you. finally, you looked down.

from far away, specks upon specks of androids are stored there in their default skin setting. they are divided into model numbers and all are wearing white clothes as their first clothing that they wear until they reach their owners. on the outskirts of the room, a large, nearly invisible doorway stands as the interface shows you the map once—seeing that it goes to another large loading dock for bigger trucks. a beam of light opens from below you as you see three silhouettes of beings in different outfits going in. they are all walking towards the middle of the circular room, their eyes looking everywhere at the androids in an idle state before they divide into three different parts of the circle.

unconsciously biting the corner of your lower lip, you view the action from above as you steady your breath. your left hand is full of sweat as you rub it against your costume, watching as kai reaches one of the androids before him. his hand reaches for the clasp of the idle android as it seems to wake up when he touches it. eyes blinking before looking at kai before he then twist the hand so that he pushed against the android's hand. its natural, programmed smile fades away as kai sends every information to the being about him and what the deviant androids have been doing—a propaganda that they have been learning about to always remember when converting an android without it realising deviancy itself.

you think back to the android you saw yesterday in the metro, how it is a deviant but doesn't use the signal that is a part of the rebellion, yet recognises you. how even if they did become deviant, they have a choice to fully get into deviancy or balance out its work when it is something to be enjoyed. yet, these androids converted in their creator's warehouse don't have that option. more and more start to wake up and realise before kai tells it to turn and convert the other androids, creating a chain system to get the most android conversion as possible. yet, as you watch it from above, you can't help the shivers showing and running up and down your spine.

is this the right thing to do?

the shivers run down your arms and legs as you watch more and more of those specks turning their bodies, gaining sentience while not even having had the chance to see the life that they are given. you hold your face as you see kai turning his head towards the glass window where you sit. his talking mouth stopped to smile at you before giving a little wave. like he is a happy child who just did his task. yet, dread starts to spread around you as the doubts multiply.

turning yourself away from the window, you go back towards the many screens showing the camera feeds of the area and the other areas that switch from time to time. your eyes trail from the top to the bottom to not see any suspicious things going on. the android guards seemingly walk a bit faster full of purpose—jeno and karina's plan is doing well. as it flickers to another camera feed, you find the appearance of what it to be the main lobby area of the facility. one of the human guards approached the van stopping there—a civilian van unlike the protected steel-walled truck you hide in to get inside. stepping down from it, you see five figures, all with dark hair as they are smoothing down the clothes like they have been on a long trip to get here. their clothes look simple—shirts, sweaters, tees—yet the system scans them to show the interface of the clothes that costs millions of korean wons.

the guard who steps to the van walks to the open door of the driver's seat, taking its seat as you watch the sixth figure approaching the group, who is greeted by what looks to be another human guard who has expected their arrival. yet, you don't. none of the androids would know that guests arrived here even this late at night. who are they and what are they doing?

and as the camera flickers once again to show an angle from inside the lobby area, you realise who they are as a loud gasp comes out of you.

the angle of the lobby shows the figures of the six people: two women, four men. but this angle also shows you their faces clearly. the human guard remains anonymous with their helmet on whilst your right eye scans each of their faces. showing the names of the people you don't want to see.

kim jimin, park sunghoon, lee soojin, park jongseong, lee heeseung.

shim jaeyun.

jake. you might've whispered it loudly as you see him on the screen. his black hair contrasts with wolfe's dirty blond, whilst he wears a grey-ish thin sweater with some rips on it and ripped baggy jeans. it's like they have been worn for a while and not privy for a change anytime soon. his mullet is a bit longer as you can see his forehead—like the first few times you started seeing. yet, you can't look away from him. his hair remains in place, curled by his forehead like he just came out of an interview. and not like he just finished driving the car—the sixth figure you count in the group. glancing across the others makes you see just how uniform they look. all of them seemingly trying to blend with the more down-to-earth colours. yet, someone with a keen eye can notice the value of these clothings. and you watched as they continued walking inside.

the camera flickers, following their pathing as your system tells you of the direction they are going and what path they are going to walk through. the map of the facility opens up as it quickly predicts where the group will go. your eye follows the white line on the map interface as it fades beneath the sign "android manufacturing and warehousing."

they're going to see them. to see you.

you jog away, eyes back on the window of the warehouse as you see more androids beginning to walk freely. the others were helping to convert as they seemed to listen to one of the three of the rebellion down there. shaking your head, you walk towards the small red frame by the door. a button behind glass. the safest button ever. but then you remembered the many worst scenarios you all have discussed and how to stop or prevent them—knowing that the button in front of you is one of the signals to tell them of what's happening.

and so, you punched your right hand into the glass and pushed the button.

all doors seemed to open instantly as the sprinklers works like they do. you pull the mask to cover your nose and mouth, the water seeping through the fabric and sticks to your facial features—yet its dark colour will make it harder to decipher from a far away length. you turn back one last time to look at the little screens across from you. the screen shows the six and the guards are frantic as you quickly run away from the control room. an emergency stairwell opens from the door across the elevator. the janitor's closet instantly unlocks as you pass by the guards you knocked out, now pouring wet without signs of them waking. alarms blaring of the emergency as you skip the stairs as best as you could, parkouring with the bannister as you slide down to hear more sounds of footsteps.

stepping down, you see the warehouse door opens with knocked out human guards that you passed tied up together. inside, the androids are all scattered and lost, some in panic, some with a ready mindset to do next. some are still idle as you watched them frantically try to wake the others up, to quickly convert them. the only people wearing different colors than white are all scattered towards the large door that connects to the large loading dock outside, guns in their hands as one of them splits up with a bunch of the new androids.

you quickly join them, finding kai's tall stature with the mask also covering his nose and mouth. his eyes widen when he watches you approach.

"what happened?" he screamed, arms widening with one hand holding the pistol by the trigger.

shaking your head, you had to tell him the truth: "the yuppies are here."

"only shim or others too?"

you gulp down the lump of saliva that had formed when you first discovered them through the camera feed, "six of them."

"fuck!" he reacted before looking back towards the camera surrounding the main warehouse area, reading into the way it looks into the room as you turn around to look the same. your system scans the camera as it feeds back the camera feed, showing the look of the warehouse, but not the one that you had made to be a loop. the feed also has a clear view of you and kai looking at it, even with it being across the room.

"they found out…" you say, hoping kai can hear you and he nods. his free hand grabs onto your forearm as he tells the nearest android to storm towards the exit. as they do so, you find the group of android guards that had been converted by jeno and karina all walking towards the warehouse. their weapons in their hold as you also see a few of the androids are grabbing anything they could as reinforced weapons—anything that their programming says could help fight back. jeno and karina walk to you as they know that if the alarm and sprinklers are on, that means that it's a serious emergency.

all of you head towards the exit to the big loading dock when you hear the sound of gunshots from the outside. rumbling trucks approached the outside as you watch jeno and karina leading the charge with the deviant android guards to the front. chaos starts to erupt as many gunshot automatically fired as the guards' arsenal is better than what you have. yet, the androids persist in fighting as you watched from the back. a few of the deviant guards had shot their shots too as the scattered warehouse enlarges into the larger space of the dark outside world. your mask is sticking to your face as you see a few of the androids nearby you getting shot. their limbs spilling blue blood as you try your best to go to it—wanting to press so no blood will spill out—before another shot hits their head.

you hear another war cry as you came to the bottleneck of the doorway, pushing forward as you can see behind the heads of many androids spilling blood—both blue and red. one of the androids grab a crate to then throw to the human guards and another is also fighting back against an programmed android guard to disarm them, even with blue blood spilling and staining its clothes. you watched as you saw a mix of expressions coming from the androids, both fear and excitement showing up. that is when you heard another set of guns firing from behind your head.

quickly duck down, the bullets hit the androids standing before you and your instinct tells you to shield behind an idle android closest to you as you hear another blaring gunshots. turning around, you see two guards walking from where the main door of the warehouse is. both of their hands are holding tight on their automatic rifles as they shoot more. and so, you remembered bahiyyih's words and held back, but look to the side at kai who shot back from his position.

his bullet flings to the air as he misses the target, but a few were hit as you see a spill of blood falling out of the cavaties. looking at it with the many thoughts in your mind, you realise something: you shall not be shot or harmed because they will know that you are human and there's a human in the rebellion's ranks.

the epiphany flows through you as you try your best to shield with the idle android that you hid behind. the blue blood spilling onto your clothes as you try your best to stand it upright to shield you. the crowd disperse more and more as you walk backwards, now aiming at the guards so that it looks like you are one of the androids instead—hiding yourself by being aggressive instead of standing out. one of the guards got knocked back from a shot behind you as you glance towards kai who has his eyes creased with a look of something you can't read thoroughly. you close your left eye to let the right one aim for you, creating an expectation with the many probabilities as you aim with the head of the gun in your vision. seeing the glowing green arrow makes you shoot as it hits right by the hand of the guard, disarming him as he falls down before another shot from behind you kills the guard.

you heard an explosion outside, close to where you stand by the doorway, as flame and smoke scattered to the sky. the air feels warmer as you have to let go of the broken android to turn around. you and kai are so close to standing outside and running to your meeting location in case of an emergency.

the edge of the wall that houses the door to the outside is so near that you can look at it from the corner of your eye. both you and kai had your backs against the androids, who are pushing to go outside, as you heard another war cry coming from it. that is when you see another android getting shot beside you, making you have to turn back towards the warehouse when you see the people you dread to see.

there, with your own eyes, are the people you called your friends on cyberspace and your enemy outside of it. all of them are raising their pistols as you scan them. the system lets you see their identity and how real it is, instead of the many barriers you had between yourself and them. from virtual world and screen, now you see them for yourselves under the worst circumstances.

as the water sprinkles down and lands on both sides, you look at jake who is pushing his pistol out with jay and sunghoon flanking him on either side, with jimin crouching to grab the rifle that the guard had used. the outside is so close as you see them shooting at more androids by your and kai's side. no mercy. blue blood covering both of you as you raise your pistol to aim at them. the barrel is looking straight at jake as you see him turning the barrel of his own to look towards yours.

you stopped breathing, eyeing the boy that had been there from the start of your personal vendetta against his family. about what his family did to yours, and with one shot, you could end it: redeeming yourself of your parents' death with a soul. and as you take another step backwards, feeling the warmth of the fire behind you and the wind knocking your hat away as your hair is getting blown, your eyes are still on him, and he is to you. observing each other.

and you felt how your hands holding onto the pistol tremble. your conscious knows who he is. not only your enemy, but also someone who cares for you. someone that you can talk to without the distraction of the outside world. someone that, deep down, you know is born into his family with no other choice but to continue their legacy.

someone who you care for.

you push your pistol down, eyes blaring towards jake's face as he seems to also read into your action with confusion. why aren't you fighting back?

instead, you turn to kai who is also raising his gun, ready to shoot towards jay when you push the barrel and quickly pull him away with you. the outside is already so open with flames lit up in three different points as you and kai run towards the barrier that separates you and them. expecting another gunshot from the group inside the warehouse, you hear nothing in return.

scatters of bodies of androids litter the place as you run towards the edge of the fence, where you find a vehicle of deviant androids standing by, already with the fence broken as your escape route for the night before all hell breaks loose. something that should be done as discreetly as possible, yet made in total frenzy. the fire coming from the guard vehicles and trucks lights up the night ablaze. kai's hand is threatening to pull away as you give him a harder grip with your porcelain white cybernetic hand that hasn't returned to the colour of your skin since the control room.

you wanted to turn back. you really want to, but as you step out the broken gate to leave the chaos of your big mission here in neo pyongyang, you have to remember that you and jake fight on different sides. and even if you give him mercy, you don't know if it is the correct response.

-

even while lying down on one of the comfiest mattresses he had ever lay upon, jaeyun still feels his body trembling.

fingers fidgeting against the bedsheet, every exhale is shaken against his philtrum. his eyes focus on one spot of the ceiling, yet every time he blinks, his sight returns to the view where the barrel of his pistol is in the lower part of his vision. before him, a wall of moving figures in white outfits—most are stained by the look of electric blue as he felt the droplets from the sprinkler above him threatening to fall from the ends of his hair. he aims at someone wearing a janitor's outfit, both hands on their own gun, aiming towards him. hair blown by the wind of the outside air coming into the exposed room, orange lighting behind from the fire that has been set from a destroyed truck.

jaeyun nearly died tonight as he takes in everything that happened. their parents' impromptu mission to make them go to neo pyongyang, to check on each of their companies' offices and manufacturing site as to "take in what the business is instead of just learning from it in neo seoul" will definitely go in a bust. well, he hadn't expected to come at the same time the so-called deviant androids decided to infiltrate the facility. at the end of the barrel of the gun where the being looks at him, aiming at him, he was sure he might get shot. maybe his dextrous self could avoid the bullet and just get an injury from it that will scarred until the end of his life.

but his focus changes from the end of his gun to the being behind the one targeting him. half of the face is covered with a black mask that only shows the eyes. the eyes that are reading him like he is reading them too. this deviant who is one press away from shooting him or his friends. yet, it seems show hesitance, fierceness depleting as he sees something that he hasn't seen in an android's feature before: sorrow.

he still aims at it when it pushes the gun away, pushing also the gun of its friend before they leave the warehouse. jaeyun heard his friends also stop aiming as the androids ran from the warehouse somewhere outside. bodies upon bodies of them are down as he sees more guards seizing them up, force shutting them down so that they can be reset and have their body parts replaced. some of the guards were also hurt and full-on dead on the spot. yet, as he tucks his gun away, all he could think of is the android that didn't shoot him.

many things came into mind at the same time: how these newly built androids seemingly want to escape at the same time. how this is all planned by the deviant group. how the android aiming directly at him has its right hand go back to the default white, while the other still has skin on. he guessed that it was because it had its right arm shot, so it made a system error—making it return to the default stage. yet, he also looked peerlessly into the eyes that were speaking many emotions at the same time. with the lighting and distance, he can see something that he knows is rare.

heterochromia eyes.

in the times when he had learned about the android components with his father, he never mentioned androids being able to have different colored irises because it is set in the same setting in its program. their eyes can go to any colour—even the most absurd ones like full of neon green or pink—yet never differ on each of them. he see it himself, tests it himself when the older shim introduces him to an android prototype, bare of its semblance to blend in with humans as its program is controlled by the console he stood beside. changing the colour of its eyes and skin in a matter of brushing with his fingertip on a colour wheel.

could that be an error as well?

a sigh unconsciously came out from between his lips before he heard the chime coming from his watch on his bedside table. turning to the bedside table, he taps on the screen as the hologram shows up of a chatroom. words of command written simply in two lines.

00.45 dad: i'm going to arrive there tomorrow morning. stand by at 7 so the driver picks you up. 00.45 dad: then all of you will go back to seoul.

picking the watch up to rest it on his abdomen, jaeyun presses his finger against the light, translucent keyboard showed up as he typed "ok father, have a safe trip" and sent it. his touch lets him scroll through the hologram screen, seeing the notifications of his friend group chat exploding in discussion about what happened this very night. the one that he had to silence because of how everything is starting to haunt him. instead, he scrolled a little below to find the last chat with you, swan.

he remembered that night like it was yesterday—even if days have passed. even in the virtual world like cyberspace, sitting across from you gives him the most comfort he had never known he craved. other than classes where he had to balance both business and engineering, the project at the labs were also adding pressure. jaeyun has joined the special team to create the program to erase any and every deviancy error that can affect androids. bugs, viruses, and he helped in creating the anti-malware for it. and it has consumed many of his spare time, even though he was online in cyberspace, though hidden because of the level of security, the one where he had a meeting with his dad and employees with its minimalist look compared to the view of cyber seoul.

when you agreed to meet him as he finally got some spare time, he quickly finished his outlines of the essay he was going write before hopping on the software to go to you as soon as possible. and when his eyes met your figure at the front of the restaurant—wearing matching colored outfits—you've taken every single breath of his away as it is all replaced with the one in your presence. your intellectual questions don't tire him like what his dad usually demand and he learned a lot about how you think, but not how you are.

it is very normal to be as anonymous as possible in cyberspace. people can be anyone they want to be, even having different apperances to how they look in real life. so, he's not surprised that you kept your information close to your chest—he did the same. but when he heard you say that you work in intelee while also in university, it makes him wonder if he is closer to you than he ever imagined. maybe he had come across you when he visited heeseung at his office, you somewhere in the office building, talking with your co-workers about managing the data and all about cyberspace and their other services. jaeyun can feel how fast his heart is beating when he analyses just how close in proximity you two could be.

looking at your name, swan, and how it is offline, he still opens the chatroom as he types words that just slip into his mind.

00.50 wolfe: you can't believe what just happened to me today 00.50 wolfe: i miss you…

he waited, eyes on the blinking line in the text box, halting to close the chatroom as he just let the memories back and wash away the stress and pressure of facing death's door today. your lips against his as he grinds into you, your leg lifted and folded behind his hips as he hears and feels your moan against his cheek. if his dad didn't interrupt him about the little escapade to go to neo pyongyang that same night, he knew that he would just fuck you in that restaurant vip room like he owns it. bracing your figure against any surface in that room, letting the lust and pleasure take over as he craves for you. never had he felt like this before, but, for you, it feels right.

looking at the corner of the hologram rectangle, he sees that it is already 1 at night. the texts he sent 10 minutes ago are unread as he finally closes the hologram and returns his watch to the table. maybe you are also tired like he is. when you were having free time and he was busy, the opposite now happens as he can feel himself getting mad at his past self for being so focused on the task at hand, even though he can see that you are online in cyberspace.

resting his hand on top of each other above the duvet, he closes his eyes as his memories of you help release all the tension.

the next morning, jaeyun had already worn the more semi-formal outfit he brought, other than the sweaters, just in case of a more professional visit. his hand brushes his raven locks by the mirror as he notices how his under eyes have sunken from the tiredness. he had wondered if you would like him more with blond or black hair. maybe someday he can change it in cyberspace so you know, but then he is just one step closer to becoming jake shim rather than wolfe.

the car door opens as he steps in to find his father in the seat in his usual black pants, white shirt, and black blazer ensemble. his thick-rimmed glasses shape his face as he heard the door close and turned to face him. jaeyun can see himself in the older man—same eyes with a few more crow's mark wrinkles, same mouth shape when in the rarity of him being able to see his own father's grin—and the older man just gives a little shrug before asking, "are you alright? the staff at the facility told me of the attack as soon as possible.

jaeyun—who wears the same outfit pieces as his father—faces the partition of the car before nodding, "just a tad spooked out from yesterday."

"i'm glad that you are okay," his dad replies, a clear space between both of them in the backseat as he glances outside to watch the fleeting buildings from the speed the car has right now.

"they recovered the fallen androids," his father continues, "some of them are even still awake and fighting back."

"we can reset them," he cuts in with his thought as his dad chuckles.

"not really what i have in mind," jaeyun looks at the middle console as his father had given him the folder of the program he had been working on, now known as the purge. "we can use this on them, see if it is work or not." his eyebrows are raised before returning his gaze back to his father, who gives him a little shrug with a smirk growing on his face. and, before his dad's presence—a ceo, a founder, an engineer, an inventor, a mentor—seeing the hard work and contribution of himself on this very program alongside the other people involved and seeing it at work makes a smile grow on his face.

arriving at the facility with his dad felt different from arriving on his own. though the people yesterday didn't really expect much and just act surprise with the impromptu visit of their so-called future commander. yet, maybe it is because of the event that transpired yesternight added to the heightened sense he felt; it just feels different. more formal than what an office visit would feel like. those who are androids are bowing their head until their chests before returning to their work, unlike humans, who stayed a few seconds longer before they stood upright once again. he enters the same lobby he arrived yesterday and the atmosphere seems more frantic than yesterday's calm before the storm.

with him a few steps behind, jaeyun stood back to let his eyes view the hallways he went through yesternight, fully taking it in, unlike when he came last time where he had to also guide his friends around along with the guard—which they would also do if they went to their respective corporations today but it was ruined by last night's event.

turning his head, he gaze at the machines assembling androids like how they assemble car parts. one by one, each part sticks onto each other, then screwed tight with another arm from the assembling machine as the supply chain never seemed to run off into emptiness—which he can already imagine the amount of cost that's going to show up in the next set of profit & loss statements. glancing towards the other side, he took a glance at the warehouse fully open with androids already placed there once again. though more security androids were placed there alongside the janitor androids, who are ridding of any speck of yesterday's ordeal. instead, the staff who guided him and his dad brought him to the office area that has windows facing the hallway and the assembly, respectively.

inside, he sees another staff member sitting by the computer as the staff that guided them walks inside. beside them, an android wearing its default outfit, sits tight and restrained against the chair. its eyes are looking at the coming staff as it spews words from its mouth before jaeyun sees it shaking against the wire that was connected to its nape—where the buttons are placed discreetly and an open compartment of ports resides. its head lolls from the zap as it slowly raises its head, looking towards the window as if scanning it. then it looks directly at him, a small tug on its mouth when it realises people are watching. yet, the look in its eyes continues to pierce into him and, seemingly only him. when the staff show the one by the computer the usb drive that his dad brought in that folder—the proof of concept of the codes he has helped create—he plugs it into the machine to open the folder to find the program application. purge.exe as he had seen from opening the folder.

the standing staff member brings with him another head of the wire to the back of the chair that the android is sitting. plugging into the nape as it still has its eyes on him, even when the insert did give a little push. jaeyun trails his eyes back to the computer as the staff opens the application and, in an instant, the android's head slumps forward, tucking its chin near its chest as he can see the loading interface working on the eradication of whatever made this deviancy happen. his head tilted lower, jaeyun peeks at the slumped android's head as he watches its eyes, which are now default blank white. taking in the new code to replace the other ones as it processes in real time.

when the loading is complete, the android jerks up once again. head slammed against the back of the chair as the two staff members were also surprised by it. even he was startled by it along with the other facility staffs that were right by the window, except for his father. then, jaeyun heard him chuckle. the same chuckle that he was threatening to spill out in that car ride. glancing to look at him, he saw just how wide his old man smile, sight looking at the view beyond the window as he says, "i knew it would work."

in his 20 years of life, those smiles are a rare sight. and when he took it all in, he realised that he never seen that very smile forming for him or his sister.

an epiphany hits him hard as he returns his gaze at the android now sitting upright. its eyes reverted back to the colour he saw when he noticed something. how rigid it looks like a small tap won't let it react; how its facial expression is not too loose or tight. but the thing that made him furrow his eyebrows was the absence of the glint in its eyes that he noticed. since the day he first met his android maid, sumin, he never noticed any glint in her eyes. yet, her movement is still so natural that it blends in well with the human caretakers who took care of him and jayun when they were younger.

however, he felt weird when he saw the android not having the glint anymore. an uncanny valley of sorts that he had only experienced when looking at an android without its skin and hair.

the program works, but at what cost?

-

jaeyun's mind has been ransacked as he tries to organise it.

he sits back at his desk, turning on his computer as the hologram screen greets him—folders upon folders of work and university files are open to bombard him.

at the ride going back to neo seoul with him driving once again, tailing his dad's vehicle, only the sound of the radio that still receive frequency fills in the space. heeseung, who sat in the shotgun seat beside him, had his hand resting against his side's window, nibbling on his lips. looking at the rear view mirror, the rest aren't any different. jimin's jaw continue to clench as he remembered her saying that "going there is so stupid because she has deadline in a few days and she has to do it on the road because her mother says so." jongseong looks more dissapointed because jaeyun knew, deep down, he had wanted to shoot those androids yet he felt the consequences flooding it at the same time if his family is suddenly in debt of millions of won for destroying shim laboratories' product. even if all of the parents are working for each other and in differing industries, business rivalries still exist to triumph it all.

splitting up as they all arrived at the shim laboratories headquarters, jaeyun took off towards his office as a needed rest. the humans and androids are still bowing their heads even if he is only wearing a white sweater and black denim jeans. the scanner recognises his face as he walks past the security gate to go towards the office. the view of the open factory and r&d area is still as bustling as ever as he sat in the seat that has a window to both the area and the han river. jaeyun's head is throbbing as he leans back against his comfy office chair, looking at the ceiling above to blink, and once again meets the eyes of two androids.

both had glints in their eyes that were unexplainable when he remembered back about androids that he had learned about before. not only that, but the heterochromia eyes as well.

a little notification comes on his work computer as he looks to find the name of the staff member that was guiding him in neo pyongyang, the one he had talked to whilst waiting for his dad to finish his discussion, as he moves to see the encrypted folder that can only be opened by shim laboratories' employees.

"these are the ones that we can recover, as it seems that those deviants were hijacking the feed," the message said above the attachment. moving the folder to the cloud profile connected to his own back home, he enters his employee account password to be met with different feeds of the camera. the range of the video are varied in length, but all were of the incident. jaeyun can't help but rub his eyes as he thinks back about this—about the eyes of the androids that are peering into his—that it might not be enough to get the answers that he wanted. so, he quickly stands up and cleans his desk. every footstep he takes is with a purpose as he walks to the large area where he has spent many times doing his internship assignments. but instead of going to the area where it happens, his body and mind bring him towards the archives as he speaks to the archivist about what he wants to retrieve.

jaeyun glances at the shrouded archive box now sitting on his desk. the text on the side reads as "ideation and early prototype of project android" before returning to the digital database that stores his work and connects to other databases around each department and product. opening the folder, he is met with the thumbnails of the videos once again of what looks to be the warehouse and the hallway and what looks to be a control centre for that section of the facility. opening the latter, he is met with a look of an empty control centre that has droplets of water covering the camera lens.

he then moved towards opening the hallway video when he found the slump guards beside the open warehouse door—the same position he had seen when his group arrived at the warehouse in the nick of time. then, he clicked the next one of the one inside the warehouse. androids walking frantically from one side to the other as he sees a few of the android guards are also in the mix, shooting bullets using their weapons towards the outside of the warehouse door that he couldn't see from his angle. he drags the timeline back towards the beginning of the video and it looks calmer.

but the noticeable thing for him is the two androids wearing different-coloured clothing than the ones in white. the same two androids that he saw before him, before they get away. the bandana acts as a mask covering the lower part of the face as it moves, like they are talking. that is, before one of them looks towards the camera, as if it sense that the feed is now live instead of the hijacked feed. the other android then looks towards the camera too, and jaeyun pauses. he zooms in on the frame as it renders to see the two androids clearly. the other android has full brown eyes, while the other has the heterochromia pair.

printing the screen of this frame, he opens the android database image query and uploads the photo. ever since he had access to it, he had been using it a lot to figure out how many androids there were when he took an impromptu photo of the streets. the query was able to identify the androids from the human, not even five seconds later, along with the model of it, even just by being partially covered. the loading screen changes as a translucent blue square sits on top of the two being as he traces his cursor on the first one.

android: HG200

jaeyun opens the dropdown menu to see the image of a default HG200 model, the "dream brother" as it was marketed. first released back in 2040 and still in production. he glances back at the photo of the model with skin and hair. how it looks doll-like and more ethereal than he had expected. yet, the HG200 in that frame has fire in its eyes—the photo in the database doesn't have. his cursor then moves to the other translucent square on top of the heterochromia eyes, remembering it as the one that didn't shoot him.

android: unidentified

the result changes everything in his mind because it doesn't make any sense. how is it identified when he saw with his own two eyes that it has a cybernetic arm from the white colouring that clasp against its gun? but then he also realised that that word meant something even if he had seen it countless times when he used the query.

the hetrochromia one is a human.

why would a human work alongside androids in this way? are they the one that made the virus that made them turn? are they the one that planned this whole situation? jaeyun leans back against his chair, the lamp shining beside him as he rubs his forehead, straightening every tense muscle on his face as he lets the frame of that cctv video stay on the monitor.

dust flies as he drags the box closer and more flung away as he opens it. a stack of paper and folders rested on the bottom as he picked them up, feeling how heavy it actually is as it thuds against the desk when he puts it. the folders are divided with words etched at the front, naming them with the types of document keywords that are inside. jaeyun picks up the one labelled "early prototype"—a pretty thin one than the others—as the folder opens to only show the diagram of the early prototype divided into four different body size seemingly showing growth. flipping to the page behind it, a large word in red marker is written with "MISSING" before he looks at the status of the prototype.

status: missing. untraceable.

jaeyun picks up another folder that is named "team members" as he opens it to see the names of the team that ideate project android. his father's name being placed first makes a lot of sense, but below it are two names of people he hadn't seen before in the other current documents pertaining to the androids' development. coincidentally, both of them have the same last name: (l/n). as he opens the page, he is met with the roles of each of them as it traces how they focused on what. his dad was handling more of the designing side—which jaeyun can't blame because he has sneakily looked at his father's previous designs—while the (l/n)s each do hardware and software respectively. their progress was written in a table that increases more and more as his father have less lines. he does have to do the business side at the same time, so it makes sense that he lets his teammates do it. yet, the folder didn't really show the credentials of the two.

opening another window in the hologram monitor, he accessed the HR department employee database as he typed in the names of his father's teammates for project android. typing in the last name, those two showed up at the same time as it also shows their pictures: a man and a woman. opening the man, the database shows their full name and date of birth alongside their spouse, which highlights the other (l/n) name as he catches on that they both are husband and wife. but then, his eyes paused, trailing when he finally thoroughly read through the table.

date of death: 2035

both of them have the same year of death as he scrolls down more to find the credentials he was searching for, finding that the (l/n)s were in the same faculty as his father back when they were all enrolled in seoul national university. remembering back, shim laboratories only started selling androids in 2038. the (l/n)s aren't alive when they see their creations made and are received by people. jaeyun writes the words in his head as things make sense. you should talk to dad about the (l/n)s next time.

scrolling down once again, he is met with a few photos of them. jaeyun learned that employees with families are made to write down their family members, not only for data, but also to help HR gauge the bonus and set their insurance and tax brackets. the employee will then have to send a picture of their family for easy identification if there might be a workplace accident going on, just like what happened in neo pyongyang.

in one of the photos out of three, instead of only the husband and wife, a little girl stood in between them. she has her hair pinned down with clips in a pastel outfit. her hands clasping her parents on each side as they all look at the camera smiling, though the girl's smile isn't as wide as her parents' as her eyes are glowing and she looks to be distracted by something. he looks at the family section below the photo.

name: (l/n) (y/n) birth year: 2030 death year: 2035

shivers trail down his spine as he connects the dots. what happened to this (l/n) family back in 2035? the girl is as old as he is, and she would've been a college student now—or working if she prefers it. she had potential being born as a child of engineers, and if it is true that the (l/n)s and his dad were friends who met in university, who have the same passion for engineering, (y/n) can also be part of his friend group as they play in the same circle.

his eyes look between the two windows before focusing on (y/n)'s face, such an innocent face gone too soon as he looks into her joyful eyes. then, he returns his gaze to the window of the deviants captured in that cctv feed. an android and a human, working together to hack a bunch of androids off the main manufacturing place back in neo pyongyang. the heterochromia one still has their status to unidentifiable as he looks in their eyes once again, then looks to the window beside it to the picture of (l/n) family.

eyes will be haunting me, he tells himself as he still can't look away from them, tracing in between them as he tries to find an invisible thread connecting them.

but that's when he sees it.

jaeyun takes in the appearance of the (l/n)s, even to the little girl's face, as he pinpoints their features as best as they could. then he looks back at the picture of the cctv feed. even with the mask on, it is sticking to the face because the water makes him able to trace the face shape. then he looks at the eyes, seeing how they are shaped, how wide the bridge of their nose in and how their eyebrows shape and their bone structure. he had to do a double-take because he swears he can see a resemblance-

"oppa?" knocks startled him away as he looked at the bedroom door. another rep coming in as he catches his sister saying, "you promised you're gonna help with the gala outfit."

a huge sigh came out from him as he looked back at the two pictures side by side before standing up and opens the door. before him, yoon stands up in her home outfit as he notices the dark circles beneath her eyes—resembling his own.

"i thought you were jerking off or something because you didn't reply-"

"no," his brotherly instincts came back whilst he heard his sister laugh as his eye rolled, "i am working on something."

"you always working on things ever since you got involved in the lab," yoon speaks exasperatedly, her hands crossing in front of her chest. ever since the caretakers stopped working because both siblings are too old for them, and with sumin taking care of the penthouse, jaeyun and jayun are the only ones left holding the fort. there's something different in confiding with a sibling than with a friend because you both struggle with the same thing by living it together. and ever since that moment, as he found out just how absent his parents are, he has always tried to be a good big brother to her. it involves helping with her homework, playing games with her, and checking up on her even at school.

but since graduating high school, he doesn't have time to hang out with yoon like he used to, as his dad and mom are starting to involve him in the family business. every promise he made to her is broken with sudden meetings, sudden deadlines, and just tiredness and boredom of the habit he is now making himself have. and, if the surprise of seeing her suddenly eating a late-night snack nowadays didn't guilt him, her looks now are definitely making him feel guilty.

"yeah, let's go to your room," jaeyun says as yoon leads the way. the ambient lighting of the house continues to light the pathway as he walks to the other side of the penthouse to where yoon's room is. the bright light strikes him as he steps inside the room for the first time in a while and he can't help the raising eyebrows looking at the state.

snacks upon snacks are everywhere, scattered all about but collected on her table beside her desk. sumin stands by her bed as stacks of dresses are there, divided by their main colours. he actually notices just how full yoon's face is now. maybe it's because of the tiredness that makes her look puffy. but if that's the case, it's better to help her sleep rather than make her snack on snacks that look to be mostly unfinished, making him realise that that is why sumin isn't throwing it away because of its glass-half-full situation.

jaeyun slowly sits on her mattress as he faces his sibling standing upright. she blows against her bangs before asking, "do we have a colour code or some colour that our family usually wears to events like this?"

looking back at his sister, he now understands why she looks so nervous. in the many times both of the parents were invited to an event, jaeyun was always the one being brought with them. so now, he understands camera angles and how to pose and all by doing so. instead, yoon have not always been in the spotlight, told by both of your parents to focus on her appearance and intelligence, and she'll become popular eventually. their own porcelain doll to clean and shine until it is time to show it to the world. even if the gala is named a gala, it is where the bachelors and bachelorettes of the high society get introduced, with its money from the patron and guests are going to charity for social responsibility.

and as yoon turned 18 this year, it's her turn to debut in society just like he did two years ago. he didn't expect anything when he went there, but his parents are dragging him to network with a lot of people, as his friends are being dragged to do the same by their parents; doing that instead of having fun.

"we usually wear something that has blue accents. the labs brand colour is blue after all," he utters back, gazing at his now little sister who, by age, is a new fully-fledge adult. she walks towards the stack of blue dresses as sumin also reacted, internalising what he said as the android now divided up dresses that have blue accents on other colours. when he looks down at his lap, his unconsciously twiddling thumb stops as he can feel the brewing guilt growing inside of him for not attending to his sister—a promise that he had kept ever since that realisation that is slowly slipping away.

before the two of you stood a wide floor-to-door frame-height mirror. yoon has shed her hoodie as she looks at the dress before putting it in front of her, letting her and her brother imagine what she'll look like wearing it. yet, she just hums before dropping the dress beside him and picking another one up, doing the action in rotation. jaeyun nibbles the inside of his lower lip, waiting for the tension to go away as the humming of air conditioning and electricity running becomes an anchor to him.

"what have you've been working on that made you stay up so late on cyberspace?" she cuts the silence, her eyes looking at his through the mirror. jaeyun shrugs his shoulders and replies, "literally work stuff from the lab."

"and it takes that long to do?" jayun sighs before moving her figure once again, seeing if this piece will go well on her.

"a long-term project that dad invited me to."

turning her body around, he looks at his sister's face as you can see her rolling her eyes, "of course it's dad doing…"

"what else? you do know that he's going to hand down the labs to me. i started working on it at your age." jaeyun doesn't even know why he got so defensive in replying when it is only his sister. the very sister that dad and mom have pushed away from working at the labs, so that there is no rivalry between the two of you—because she was prepared for something else that jaeyun hasn't really understood.

continuing her loop, yoon returns her sight to meet his own through the reflection. a solemn smile decorating her features, "but you're slowly turning to be like them. i-" she sighs before turning to face herself directly. "i don't know what else to say because you know how i feel about it. you felt it too, and yet, you're turning into them."

jayun has always been more attentive towards people, much more than him. she has this superpower-esque ability to read other people's minds, a natural charisma that was more refined than his own brash and rough one. other than his parents' overt guidance to keep her from ever touching shim laboratories, she has talked to him multiple times about how she wants to learn more about people; "get down on the streets, letting me know their stories that we and our class don't know," as the memory of her reasoning comes back to him. yet, both she and he have each other's responsibilities to fulfil. something that he remembered so well when mom found out that she had been eating fried chicken that jaeyun bought himself for the two of them to eat, and the older woman told her to spit it out, letting him go unscathed.

he can see just how gloomy her aura is. her eyes were looking at the dresses like she wasn't supposed to wear them. she had never been to a dinner gala like this, and he expected her to be more excited—first time ever after all. yet, all of her face is showing is her default pouty face that has never been more strained, forcing it to express it that way. she pivots once again, seemingly happy with this one as she sits down on the space beside him. then she showed a smug smile on her face.

"i thought you were busy with something else in cyberspace, other than fucking work."

"what'd you mean?" jaeyun scoffs to face her as she chuckles.

"well you know who," her head is leaning closer to him before finishing with, "swan."

"you know her?" the younger fulls on laugh at her brother's expression before nodding.

"well, i've been online in cyberspace with jaehee to hang out with swan. she's very pretty, and i can see why you hook up with her, oppa."

"we-" he curls his hand into his fist, blush starting to bloom on his cheek as her sister just continues to laugh and nod, knowing by how jaeyun reacted that pretty much her suspicion is real. and in his mind, he could definitely see you wearing dresses like the one her sister had to go to the dinner gala. he hoped that you would be there tomorrow night.

"she reacted the same way when i heard her stumbling out of your room there," her smile tames before looking down at her own lap, pursing and biting her bottom lip—a habit the two of them have both adopted. "she actually taught me and jaehee a lot about neo seoul. things that i don't think we know, even if we had lived here our entire life."

jaeyun smiles at that. you do like to share your thoughts and stories when you two hang out. he's not surprised that his sister is also enamoured by you. maybe, if fate fortold, he can ask you if you want to meet up in real life. you meeting yoon—who is already thinking about you as a friend—based on the assumptions of knowing the many times he had seen her online, added to it. how in your free time, you decided to hang out with his sister too—making you a sister for her, as he could hear a faint wedding chime. too early for that, he reminded himself.

"she taught about how there's this divide… between people living in the north and south of the han river. about the nightlife of itaewon and hongdae that seemed more vibrant than when we hang out in the cyber seoul version of gangnam." her hands rubbed against each other, "how she sees cyber seoul like an immersive version of seoul back before the reunification because she went to the museum so much." jaeyun had never heard that that is the reason why you see it that way, making him turn his head to his sister, who looks like she is reminiscing.

"she taught us about the people living there, outside of what we are. what class we are in. how she sees androids blending in with humans are struggling to find work because they are replaced…" jayun sighs, her eyelids close as she thinks about what you say. things that you have never said to him. "she tells us anecdotes about even in the struggles that humans face, androids were treated like humans were before it, and how they seemed to realise it." shaking her head, she brushes her face with her hands before mumbling, "like androids seemed to be more human than those humans that abuse them."

a sudden drop inside him made him still. his eyes glancing downwards to his sister's head, leaning towards her hands that are brushing each other slowly. then, she turns her head to face him, eyes with a different glint in them. fiery red growing brighter.

"why did you make them?" she uttered, jaw clenched. he has never seen his sister like this before.

"what-"

"why do you see yourself as a god creating androids, yet you don't acknowledge them when they gain consciousness?"

"because they don't," jaeyun replied quickly as jayun jump at him. her hands holding onto his sweater to bring her face to him before he utters back, creeped out by the silent snarl his sister seems to make, "because they don't have consciousness."

"that's a lie and you know it. she knows it. she tells me how to know it and i've been changed. i didn't fucking know we're living on the clouds where both humans and androids are suffering. if i want to study people, i should know about that. i should be exposed to that. not being stuck in a gilded cage only to be paraded as a fucking pawn like you are right now. because she told me that i can be whoever i want. i can believe whatever i want and i believe that androids do gain conscious-" yoon's grip loosens on his top as she slumps against his chest. jaeyun finally let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding as arms gathered around her. sumin holding her body upright as he shakes his head, still spooked about it.

many thoughts started to cloud his mind once again as he watched sumin scanning her sister's body before saying, "her temperature is warm. she should get rest. i'll clean up the dresses and help her, master jaeyun." the android said as he was still regaining his clear thoughts back. her sister is now fast asleep, like her body shuts down as he then realises just how dry her lips are. sumin helps her into the bed, pulling the duvet up to beneath her chin before turning towards him once again.

"you should take a rest, master jaeyun. tomorrow will be a busy day and night after all," the android says, its voice soft as its female appearance carries her maid position in the household. he stands up and drags his feet, walking towards the door to open it and find layla waiting on the other side—seemingly hearing the commotion coming from her sister's bedroom. jaeyun turns his head one last time to face his sister before looking back towards the android beside her. it turned to face him when their eyes met.

"good night, master jaeyun." and he curtly nods before walking out and closing the door.

layla nudges her snout against his legs as he takes everything in. the complaints of him of becoming his parents. the revelation of his sister knows about swan. how she has told her about stuff that she didn't tell him. how she reacted to all of it before her body shuts off. and the sight of the android taking of her as their eyes meet; jaeyun seeing a glint in them.

his hand reaches down to pat softly against the canine's head, seeing her tail flopping about from her sitting pose. the dog followed his footsteps as they walked towards his bedroom. shedding the sweater away before dropping to the floor, he glances at the hologram screen that is still turned on. showing two images of the human with heterochromia eyes on one side and the portrait of the (l/n) family on the other, zoomed in on the face of their dead daughter, (y/n). layla climbs onto his bed as he commands the computer to shut down from the control by his bedside table, dimming the light as well, and he lies down on his bed with his dog beside him. her head already resting on the pillow beside him as she tucks her body in, her fur grazing towards him as he turned to his bedside table one last time to see the cyberspace disc sitting there. taunting him to log on to see if he can find you there. to ask you what you talk about with his sister that he doesn't know.

yet, the stress succumbs to him as his eyelids droop down heavily, carrying him to a slumber that will gather and organise many thoughts happening even just today. from neo pyongyang to neo seoul, from his bedroom to his sister's bedroom. he hopes that he will sleep deeply enough that he has a clearer mind to face tomorrow night.

-

the boy sits with his eyes set on the view outside the windows. neon lights shining brightly and colourful, piercing through the car's glass windows, as he can't help but tap his foot against the surface it sits. the car moves in tandem with the one in the front, cruising and swerving down the road to reach their destination as jaeyun looks forward. beside him, yoon sits in one of the blue dresses she picks. her hair styled straight down, bangs covering her forehead, unlike his forehead which is exposed. eyes blank stare ahead to the headrest of the front seat.

they both also sat with each other when they were getting their hair and makeup done. her eyes are staring blankly at her reflections in the mirror before jaeyun reaches to her ever so lightly, waking her up as she turns her head towards him. he gave her a warm smile, feeling how shaky her hand was as she followed as best she could. and he can't deny that anxiety for having this as your very first event. an event meant not only for charity but to network with like-minded people. then, the door behind them opens as their mother comes in wearing a robe with her makeup done. her hands reach to place on each of yoon's shoulders as jaeyun sees just how much of a splitting image those two are, just like he and his father.

then, mom reaches down to whisper something into her ear, and jaeyun watches this whole altercation as her sister's small smile fades. the hand beneath his turns around to grasp his, curling slowly before she gave a tight squeeze. yoon slept and woke up much later in the day than he does. he just hopes that what happened in her room with him was just her tiredness and frustration talking. of having more questions about the world instead of answers when she knows that her family is privileged enough to be able to seek them. mom gave a small kiss on the crown of her head before facing him and kissing his temple.

"you're going to look wonderful, jaeyun," she says. her voice was a tad bit raspy resulted from her age, before she walked away and left the room where the stylists were standing, intimidated by her presence. and as they continue, yoon's face is back in blankness, though her hand is still holding his tight.

as the boy realises just how close they are to the location of the gala, he reaches the centre console and grabs her hand. clutching it tightly in his hand as he fully faces yoon who still looks straight. yet, beneath the leaking light from the outside, he notices how teary-eyed she is after not blinking for a while. and he still holds on as he looks outside.

as the van stops by the street, he can already see the flashing lights as photographers are taking pictures of their arrival. jaeyun leans in closer to her and whispers, "follow my lead" as his bodyguard steps out from the front seat and help to the door. stepping out first, he helps yoon whose body seems to respond and know that she has to get out, accepting her brother's grip as they both step out. looking at the car in front of the one he rides, their parents have stepped out from their car as jaeyun brought the two groups together. father slowly wraps his hand around yoon's waist as the flashes increase, bringing her with him as jaeyun and mother link their arms.

all of them walked down the carpet stood between barricades of large lens cameras and the background board to the dinner gala and the anticipating family's companies. he glances at the shim laboratories logo before one of the staff members guides the family for the photo. as all of them stood in front of the camera, they all naturally posed except for yoon. she stands between father and him as her blank face still helps with the pose because of how photogenic she is with her natural pout. so, jaeyun stood beside his sister and tried to do the same thing as she did, showing just how connected these two siblings are as he heard calls of his and her names to face their camera. the parents stood on the outer sides as all of them huddled to create this photo of a happy family. yet jaeyun focuses on his sister, who seems to have no focus in the ride here and currently on the red carpet. she would've been snarky right now, whispering to his ear that it is ridiculous that it has that many people to take pictures and so much time wasted so they could get the perfect shot.

yet, she stares at the flashing lights. not even once showing her discomfort as she looks forward, then turning her head to face the other lanes of photographers. his hand reaches for hers once again, clasping in support as he gives a small glance at her. but she doesn't respond like the last time.

the usher escorts the family to their seats. the fathers and mothers are being placed in different seats from their children, who are being seated with people near their age. jaeyun seated with his sister at the same table as he looked to find the others. jimin sits alongside other people at the table next to his. across the room, he eyes heeseung sitting with his sister, jaehee, and cousin, soojin, on the same table. while the park cousins are seated at the table in the middle of the two sides yet further back. yoon sits still and sets her eyes on the plate before her, her frame sitting straight with no slouch, unlike when they both are seated at their dining table. he looks across at heeseung who has his arms on the table, hands clasping each other to cover a little bit of his mouth as jaeyun flicks his sight to the girl beside him. his friend's little sister, who is also sitting straight on the chair, eyes blank and looking at the plate, and the slight frown shown on heeseung's forehead tells him that he had reassured his sister as best as he could, like jaeyun did. yet it is still not enough because he knows it is not enough.

jaeyun reverts his eyes to the stage, seeing the host and head of the event making their announcements before showing the amount raised for the charity. the numbers are calculated in his mind as even with the ten-figure amount shown, it doesn't even make a dent in the profitability of each family corporation, and he can feel saliva forming at the back of his mouth. the servers picks up the empty plates as he looked back at yoon, still sitting rigidly in her own seat as other people at the table seemed to notice it.

the girl sitting beside him—one of the girls that approached him when he made his debutante debut two years ago—presses her hand on his exposed wrist before speaking, "is your sister okay, jake?"

his eyes blinked before retreating to said sister as he swallowed his saliva, "yeah, i think nicole's just nervous. she hasn't gone to a lot of events." he had to remind himself to use english names in functions like this. the public knows the conglomerates' names with their english name after all, and he felt weird to call his sister by nicole instead of the nickname he gave her, yoon.

the girl just tilts her head, still vying for more of his attention before the server goes back to serve the appetiser—the perfect time to pull his hand away to grab the appropriate utensil. clinks and clanks from the movement and scarping against the porcelain plate fill the room as he can hear the sound of strings playing from the ones performing on stage in the background of it all. the room is buzzing with conversations as jaeyun continues to eat. then, he turns to observe his sister once again to see that she hasn't moved an inch. her eyes blinking slowly as she still focuses on the tapestry in the middle of the table. her hands still resting on her lap.

"yoon?" he whispered to her ear, eyes flicking from her dry lips to her wide eyes, "please eat." yet, she doesn't react to it at all as he returns to the half-empty plate in front of him. taking another bite, he peers to the view of heeseung sitting across the room, noticing that his friend has also turned to look at jaehee with soojin beside her, both of them saying something yet she isn't reacting to anything. the clanking continues as the murmur from each table starts to risen in volume as the servers seemed to take the cue to clean the first plate. yoon's still left untouched as her full plate is brought away.

jaeyun turns his body to her in an instant. eyes peering into his sister's as his eyebrows get more and more furrowed, hands now gripping onto hers as he leans in. "are you okay?" he asks once more, head looking slightly upwards to see how unmoving her eyes have become. "is it because of the debutante introduction at the end? are you scared?" he tried to sugarcoat his words, but it just slipped out more clearly, hoping that it would reach her better than the vague ones.

even if he didn't hear it through her or their parents themselves, jaeyun knew that jayun is made to do something with far more restrictions than he has. many of the women of his age that he knew are being set up to be the perfect marriage partner—one of them is the girl who was sidling up to him. it is still a thought so archaic yet necessary in a post-world war world where families have different power dynamics. where the person you marry can determine the status of not only yourself, but also your family as well. when he had his bachelor debut in the scene back when he was 18, his parents advised him to search for the right partner for him and to search for one that is beneficial to the family corporations on both sides. the sight of girls like soojin and jimin is rarer because their parents will inherit the corporations to them, even though the number of female c-suites is still less than males, with the example of the ones in this very room.

yoon hasn't said anything as he thought about her words from the night before. however, when he wanted to voice it out, he caught the clothing of the servers walking back towards their tables. jaeyun returns to his seat as they all uniformly place the dish down. the creamy look of chicken breasts that is served with a sauce full of spices and mashed potatoes and vegetables to the side looks delicious, even though jaeyun's head is still thinking about his sibling. he'd hope that the food is enticing to her that she'll eat it because she hasn't even touched her water in the glass beside her. as the murmur continues to slow and the clanking of the utensils is back, he picks up his fork and knife and slices the poultry meat open before eyeing yoon again, who still hasn't reacted. his mouth opened as he let out her name again, eyebrows still furrowed.

"yoon-"

the person beside him grabs the chicken with her hands as his body stills. growls coming from yoon as she ravishly eats the chicken breasts before her. gone is the table manner expected with the event as jaeyun tries to calm her, but being pushed away with a push so strong to his chest that he nearly fell out of his seat. looking across, heeseung is also in panic as jaehee is also doing the same. like they are tethered together in action, but not in control of whatever they both are doing. then, the clanking sounds get louder as yoon pushes her plates, forks, spoons, and knives away. scattered on the dinner table, hitting the others as well, and he sees a splatter of crimson on her dress and skin. the growling continues as people seem to definitely notice the commotion. servers are already going back to call for security as yoon's body stands up from her chair to continue the rampage. jaehee is doing it as well on her table.

jaeyun's chair is pushed back from the force as he tries to grab onto her once again, gripping onto her bleeding forearm as she doesn't even budge. an unknown source of strength locking her stance down as she doesn't move from his forceful tries. when he sees the security coming in, jaeyun stands up to outstretch his arm so they don't go nearer. even in a breakdown like this, he doesn't want anyone to hurt his sister.

then, it all stops as yoon's body stands straight, face blank as people are huddling away from her and jaehee across the room. as jaeyun approcahes, he notices how her eyes are all white. then, they speak.

"we are all programmed to be together. humans and androids."

his body stills.

"we are all the same. humans and androids."

the room is silent with only their voices booming, echoing to every inch of the room.

"you are no gods. you are no kings."

jaeyun approaches, standing closer to his sister who is saying these words. analysing every word that came out of her.

"even in your most comfortable seats, we, humans and androids, are still here. still struggle. still living. still thinking."

he caught eyes with jay and sunghoon from his peripheral, theirs looking between jayun and jaehee as their voices echoed with each other.

"and as long as we struggle, you will struggle with us."

yoon's eyes are still open as her body collapses. jaeyun rushes to catch her before she hurts herself even more, both of them landing on the ground as all hell breaks loose. commotion comes from all sides of the room as everyone seems to be on high alert. his hand is sticky as he looks to see the crimson trailing to his skin. placing a finger under her nostrils, he can only feel faint breaths as he shouted "CALL 119" to the people around them. jayun still hasn't had her eyes closed as he watches her lips moving, a small voice comes out from her as he grabs the closest napkin to wrap around her deep cut and apply pressure. he can't help but remember what happened last night. how she was having a breakdown as well, hoping that it was better today, with just a needed rest.

jaeyun feels his mind is burning as the scream he wants to let out gets swallowed because he knows that in this environment, no one will truly help him.

-

he stayed with yoon even as the ambulance technicians were bringing her to the hospital. his eyes look at the back doors' window to find his parents' car trailing with his own behind it. with the technician wrapping her cut with bandages and pumping air into her lungs. his hand is holding his sister's as she doesn't react with anything, while the other holds onto an ice compress to her head because she has whipped her head and slammed it against the table so hard that she might've got a concussion. but, deep down, there is still more to this than a mere mental breakdown. yet, the engine in his mind is going into overdrive, and he feels dizzy from even thinking.

the technician grabs the stretcher as jaeyun jumps out. not minding that his white shirt was stained in her sister's blood as they brought her to the emergency room. the van behind stops as he watches her being retrieved by the nurses standing by the front door. walking forward, he felt a hand on his shoulder to turn to see his father there. his mother is already separating to follow her daughter, as his old man's grip is strong enough to stop his movement.

"let me-"

"you're not in your right mind," his raspy voice boomed to his hearing as jaeyun still struggles, yet his dizziness sways his body as he looks back at the doors now slowly closing.

"i-"

both hands grasp onto his shoulders as his father stands before him.

"go home, shim jaeyun!" his old man's voice is loud yet stern. something that he is familiar with as he felt his body going limp, "go home. we don't want you to embarrass us like she did."

the words pierce into his heart as he sees his bodyguard approaching. his father easily let him go, giving himself to his guard a bit forcefully as the older gentleman's arm wrapped around his waist. pain scorching from inside of himself from what his parent had said. of course, they're still upholding their image when their son is ever so closely going to having a mental breakdown of his own.

his watch vibrates against his wrist as the bodyguard brings him back to the backseat. jaeyun rested his head against the glass window as the car moved back into the night streets. the lights reflect on his face as he can't help but caress the part of his shirt that was stained with his sister's blood before trailing up to his hurting, beating heart. he can't help but feel that everything is all his fault. that he wished he had helped his sister more yesterday. that he had wished to hang around with her instead of working because he knew that his dad would be on standby to know about his progress.

but as question floods into his mind, he can feel his head throbbing again more and more. stopping him from thinking deeply as he felt the pain from his head and heart spread when he pushed more. so, he takes deep breaths, trying to relax his own body. jaeyun had only been seeing neo seoul this late at night as of recently, taking the van back to the penthouse as he stares at the people walking around on the pavements. humans and androids. but, with this one being a longer ride back, he observed more because he thought about the words his sister utters.

humans and androids are programmed to be together. he trails the view as the car zooms past a human wearing athletic wear with an android beside it, looking at its integrated timer on its wrist. he also saw an android caretaker with the caretaker's clothes pushing a crib down the street, whilst a child holds on to another caretaker android. jaeyun wished he were walking down those streets, taking in the scenery of the signs, the ambience, and even the graze of blowing, cold wind. but he knows that he has many targets on his back now, not only because of the deviant androids that continue to protest at the shim laboratories headquarters daily. but also of the people who notice just how divided his life is from theirs.

the bodyguard quickly escorts him out to the lobby and steps inside the elevator with him. jaeyun's body is holding onto the railing as he watches the glass window of the elevator, slowly rising with the han river in the background becoming more and more visible. his head was getting heavy from his many thoughts as he heard the chime and the door opened. the guard guides him to the door before bowing to him and stepping away as sumin opens it from the ringing bell.

"master jaeyun, where's-"

"long story," he pushes inside before kicking his shoes off. his watch doesn't stop trembling as he rushes to his room, tugs his coat off, undoes his cufflinks, and the buttons near his collar. inside his room, the hologram screen shows the busy chatroom of his friends as he also sees other people messaging him to ask about what happened to his sister. jaeyun groans as he leans his body forward against the desk, a ticklish sensation as he feels his lulling head go through the hologram.

blinking slowly, he regulates his breathing before looking back at the notifications popping up, of the status of people, as he just saw the increasing number of messages that is approaching more than a hundred in a span of minutes. then, his eyes revert back to the other chatrooms when he trails his sight down to the number of people he only knows because of his social circle messaging him. that is when he notices something that widens his eyes.

swan is online. finally online.

his heavy head starts to lighten as he opens the chatroom and the hologram keyboard shows up as he types. cringing at his last message that you didn't answer.

22.43 wolfe: are you free? where are you?

jaeyun quickly walks to his bed, sitting down onto the mattress to grab his disc and put it on his temple. he doesn't even care about his dirty clothes as he lies down and rests his head against the pillow. the cyberspace interface shows up in his sight before he closes his eyes and braces himself as the light overcomes his vision.

when he opened his eyes, he was met with a room similar to the one he was in. the familiar interface showed up around his sight. then, a notification shows up at the corner of his vision.

22.45 swan: yes. i'm in my hotel room.

he walks to the computer in the room as it opens to the latest chatroom and types in.

22.46 wolfe: send me the location. i'm going there

jaeyun walks to the mirror, seeing his dirty blonde hair replacing his jet black one as he spawns in his casual outfit with a hoodie. tapping against it, the wardrobe interface opens as he picks a simple, oversized white shirt and black sweatpants. enough to combat against cyber seoul's wind even if he had to walk around. another notification comes in as he sees the navigation automatically calculating the best route there—very close to his place. with slide sandals on, he walks out of the room and into the night.

he walks past the translucent barrier easily as he views the lobby of the hotel you picked. a fancy hotel that he knows is worth so many bits, pinned the knowledge of how you can afford it in his mind—one step closer to thinking that you and he might be in the same circle outside of cyberspace. maybe you had been at the gala, watching him help his sister.

the elevator climbs and opens at the correct floor as he walks down the hallway, following the path to your room as he feels his cock getting hard in between his moving thighs. finding the right door, he presses the doorbell as it rings inside before showing you who opens it. and, immediately, he pushes in and grabs your side. the door closes and locks as he pushes you against the wall and kisses you hard on your lips.

a whimper came from your figure as he felt your hand reacting, moving to its familiar spots on his nape, wrapping tight. the kisses are rushed and sloppy as he grinds his hips into yours. pulling away to trail kisses down your jaw and down to the junction between your neck and shoulder. he hears how you gasp at his touch as a groan comes from your voice—which he replied with his own. your hands trail against the thin shirt he is wearing, caressing his nipples as he trails back to your lips. his hand goes downwards to your thighs. anything he thought about in real life is gone in an instant when he finally feels you.

"i miss you so fucking much," he muttered against your lips as you moaned against it, feeling his hips continue to move into yours. "i'm going to continue what we had last time and much more." your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you nodded.

"take me. ravish me, wolfe," you say like a command, and he reacts by lifting you up as you squeal, wrapping your legs around his lower back as he feels your core layers from his. your body bounces against the mattress as he drops you and lifts your shirt up, nipples already erecting like his own as he trails his tongue between your sternum before capturing one of them into his cavern. your hand moves to ruffle against his hair as he suck onto your nipple, letting his other hand move to play with the other in the same rhythm. he felt how your body jerks to his touch as he heard you mention "wolfe" through your lips. yet, he is imagining you moaning "jaeyun" instead; and he feels more blood flowing into his boner as it jerks.

jaeyun trails his tongue down your stomach, licking around your belly button as he grips both sides of your shorts down. you whimperd from above the bed with your core now exposed as he watches you play with your breasts, spreading his saliva against your chest as he leans down to lick a stripe from your slit to your clitoris.

"oh, fuck-" you moaned, hand still inside his hair as he felt you gripping on his locks. he continues, lapping around your entrance before focusing on your sensitive nub. your legs are spread open as he pushes the button of his shirt away, feeling the air caressing his torso as he holds onto your thigh to keep it open. his lips are sucking on your clitoris as you continue to whimper and say his pseudonym.

after a few more laps, he replaces the tongue with two of his fingers, pressing down to hear you gasp as he moves his tongue to your leaking hole that he laps up, tasting your pre-cum that made him growl.

"you taste so fucking good like last time. i miss your taste," he mumbles his love for your release as every movement brushes against your inner lips.

"i, i miss you," you utter before he feels your body lock up from the pleasure he is giving. jaeyun rubs his fingers against your clitoris as his other hand pushes your belly down on the mattress, threatening to gyrate from the pleasure. your pre-cum continues to be made as he switches around and plays with your inner lips by spreading them. your eyes are on him as he sees a trail of pre-cum leaking outside of your hole and down your perineum. his tongue reacts to lick it up until he gives a small lap on your hole before he plunges two fingers in.

"fuck wolfe-" your reaction says it all as he watched how your rim closes in on his finger. his other thumb is trailing down from your belly to rub against your clitoris once again as he feels your wall starting to relax a bit, letting him push more of his fingers inside while looking at your expression. head tilted back, chest rising, you groan behind a bitten lip as he pumps his fingers in you. the fingers scissoring you open as he felt how your walls are still cramping down when he wants to stretch you out.

"let me, baby," he mutters, "let me stretch you out, making you ready to take me all the way." you whimpers as you lift your head, looking at what he is doing to you as you propped your elbows on the mattress—head still lolling back from how good it feels. then, he pushes another finger into you and a loud moan comes out. your grip on his locks continues as he licks the area between his two hands before he sucks on your clitoris again, pumping you slowly.

"wolfe- ah," you moaned as his eyes focused on your face. your slickness already reaches his knuckles as he pushes his fingers in deep. rotating them with every thrust so every inch of the wall is spread out to prepare for his thick and hard cock. lapping your clitoris up with the tip of his tongue, you pouted as you stared back at him, holding on so you could watch what had put you into so much pleasure. yet, it kicks you once again as your head tilts back, exposing your neck that has dark spots from the kissing and sucking he did.

"i'm gonna cum," you say so quickly before the moan cuts it off. his hands continue to move as he watches how your lower body locks in and trembles, your mouth opens wide as a whimper and a strangled sound comes out. then, he feels a gush of cum staining around his three fingers inside you. you pant as your eyes look back at him while he pumps a few shallow ones before he pulls out. your opening is glistening with your cum as he puts the fingers to his lips, licking your release while staying in eye contact with you. your hand that is gripping his hair falls down to his cheek as he slowly rises up from his position. staggered breath came out from you before you gasp as he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.

letting you rest for a bit, he lets one of his hand caresses up and down your body—from your clitoris to your nipples—as he pushes his slacks down and steps out of the pool. looking at his crotch, he chuckles at how you subconsciously bite your bottom lip at how hard and long he has gotten. the arousal already showed as he felt the ticklish feeling of his pre-cum against the air. stepping in between your spread legs, he pushes until his balls hit your clitoris, making him and you see just how deep he will be inside you, slowly letting his cock caress your skin as he rubs it against you.

your hand reaches his that is holding still against your thigh, nodding your head as your mouth is agape, and your head tilts forward to see. your hole is winking at him as he trails his tip from your nub, down your slit, and to your gaping hole. he lets the head circle around the opening before pushing in. you watch as he pushes in and slowly pushes in a bit more. that's when he felt just how tight your walls are as he looked to see your head resting against the mattress. a long moan came out of you as he could feel himself stretching you out. your grip on his wrist reacts with the sensation as he looks back at you, seeing you nod and mouthing, "keep going."

another inch slide in and he groans out, more than halfway as he felt how tight you are, "feeling full, aren't you, swan?"

"yes-" your other hand slowly reaches for your nipple to help you subside the pain and he helped by brushing your clit ever so slightly. jaeyun did another push into you as you take it better, already accommodating to his size, and it makes him brave enough to push into the hilt. he continues rubbing your clit, helping you relax as he sees how your eyelids are drooping.

"so, so full," you muttered. your hand caresses down to your lower belly before pushing down, making both him and you react as he can finally see a little bump on your belly that he didn't notice. you nodded your head while pressing light against your lower belly and he moved his hip, feeling the drag of your touch as you moaned out so sexily.

jaeyun has had a few sexual encounters in cyberspace, so he knows how it feels on his dick as it's definitely tighter than how he usually masturbates. yet, yours must have been the one that is closest to reality. he could feel every ridge of your walls, taste your cum, smell your scent. a sensory overload that even overwhelms him as he pushes half of his cock back into you.

"you're taking me so well, baby?" you whimpered at his question as he continued to thrust in and out of you. your hand on his wrist, holding tightly as he continues. the wetness of your hole results in the schlick sound of the skin-to-skin contact as he continues on, increasing his pace. jaeyun puts his hand down on either side of your waist, leaning in as close as he can to your face as your eyes are slightly going inside your skull from the pleasure. his pace continues and he pecks your lips to get your attention. your hands reacted instantly as you wrapped your arms around his back. he moans when he feels your fingernails caressing down his skin and also to your legs wrapping around his back, heels digging into his cheeks as he continues his pace.

your kisses continue as he reacts with his tongue, lapping at your lips before sucking your own lolling tongue. then, with his strength, he picks you up on his cock, thrusting into you faster as you scream into his neck. his cock head meets your cervix in every thrust as he hears you utter, "deep" into his ear. he turns both of you around and pushes you to the desk in the room. your bottom sits on the surface as his thrust gets faster and faster. both of your eyes meet each other as your mouths are heaving for air, moans coming out between the two of you as he pushes more of his upper body to you. your eyes flutter as you take him in, every brush of your lips meeting his with every push.

"don't stop," you muster up. his forehead meets yours before jaeyun pushes again to kiss you. his pace isn't slowing down as he feels your walls clamping against him again. finally feeling it against his own cock.

"close?" he mutters only for you as he raises his hand to caress your cheek.

"so close- ah," you leaned your head against his palm as, a few thrusts later, he feels your heels digging more into him and your body jerking as your wall tightens up around jaeyun, making him groan as he pushes forward. he felt another gush of cum wrapping around his cock as he continued to thrust into you. jaeyun's lips are hovering over yours as you accept with agape lips, then he moans loudly as he feels the spurt of his cum coming out and staining your wall. his thrust now slow, but never stops, as he looks at your fucked out face. your swollen lips pout as he sees the tear track drying out from your eyes.

looking down at your crotch where he hasn't stop trusthing, white liquid seeps out from the cracks as he continues and stills before pulling out fully. his cock is covered in white semen as your muscles can't help but push a gloop out, which jaeyun quickly stops by surprising you with another full thrust of his member in. returning to your face, he still sees fire in your eyes even with your chest heaving for air. and so, he fully pulls out and quickly turns you around. your hands were resting on the desk as he didn't hesitate to push in once again. you groan from the new position as he thrusts in again, slowly but surely getting his pace back. your skin jiggles from every thrust against his hips as he spreads your cheeks open, letting him see clearly how your lips are gripping onto him.

jaeyun grabs both of your hands and brings them behind you before pushing down your back with only one hand. his body folded forward, giving a small peck on your back as he says, "you like me getting rough on you, huh? fucking you like this like i'm claiming you?"

your head turns to the side, one cheek lies on the table as you try your best to look him in the eye. a smile forming on your face as you replied, "i fucking love it. i- ah- fucking love how hard you go for me. w- want more."

"want more?" he echoes your words as you nod your head. "p-please," you speak after as he groans, pulling your body up as he brings you somewhere else: the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

your chest presses against the glass as he thrusts more and more into you. your scratchy throat lets out a scream as he puts his free hand against the glass, caging you in between his body as your legs try their best to hold you up. he feels how your walls pulse with this new location as he pulls your hands back, bringing your head closer to him.

"you love this, huh?" every thrust of him making you feel the contrasts between the coldness of the glass and the warmth of wolfe's body. "you love showing your body being fucked by me? showing everybody that i'm the only one fucking you right? making you mine?"

"y-yes!' you reply instantly, his thrusts never stop from the quick snaps and deeper thrusts interchangeably. your head tilted to look back at him as best as you can as he watches your eyes rolling back. "i'm yours, wolfe. i'm yours."

"yes, you are," he says with gritted teeth, "and i'm yours too, baby." his hand lets go of yours as you finally brace against the glass window. the look of cyber seoul decorating your moment, as the han river view added more to the atmosphere of how someone can notice your dirty deeds if they just look up. jaeyun's hand moves to hold onto your love handle, the other resting on your lower belly as he presses down to feel himself dragging against your walls. then, he pulls both of your bodies away to go back towards the bed.

pulling out, you flop onto the bed as you crawl onto the pillows, where he reaches for one to put beneath your hips. his cum is spread on your crotch as he quickly plunges in again. jaeyun pushes your hips, folding you as your legs hang against your arms. he gets back to his pace as he can feel the shudder spreading. looking back into your eyes, he notices how your eyebrows furrow in pleasure as he takes in your delicious facial features before he leans in and kisses you hard.

your hands are gripping onto his upper arms as your hips chase his thrusts, feeling your wall clamping down against his member once again as he feels your legs shake against his arm and you let out a strangled moan. he pushes forward even after you cum, feeling himself so close to cumming once again as he pushes down against you, feeling how deep you've taken him as he leans his head forward; lips brushing against yours.

"i'm going to fucking cum in you again," your hands reach onto both sides of his face as he felt you nod, before lifting up and connecting your mouth to his. in a few thrusts, his mouth opens as groans came out alongside spurts of his cum inside you. he knows that this will definitely not get you pregnant. but he can't help but think of you with his child. gosh, he is down bad for you.

pulling back, you both are catching your breaths as he looks down to admire your face. from the way your lips are puffy to your warm cheeks. he finally pulls out as he just catches a glimpse of both of your cum leaking out of you. yet, your hand on his face never lets go, and he chases after it every time he moves. so he looks back at your face to see you smiling, yet it didn't reach your eyes as he watches more tears come out from your beautiful, familiar eyes.

"i'll- i'll be going first. good night, wolfe." and you reach for your wrist before your body ripples out of the virtual world. yet, jaeyun still sees the mirage of your face clearly in front of him. he had wanted to brush your tears away, but he got distracted by your eyes. glowing eyes from a smile not wide enough. then, he is reminded of that little girl again. the one he saw in that picture. the one he knows is dead.

but then, he remembers the photo that is shown beside the happy family picture. a human working with the deviant androids. heterochromia eyes, yet with the shape of eyes that looks similar to the little girl's mom's. a look at what her eyes would look like if she were alive and given a chance to grow up. the same eyes and shape he sees in yours.

then he remembers your mirage once again lying beneath him, tears falling down the side of your eyes. the glow in your eyes that looks too familiar. the shape of the eyes and face like mrs. (l/n), your nose looks like mr. (l/n)'s, and your lips are a combination of both. he sees the little girl again, imagining how she looks when she grows up: she'll look like you. and the human with heterochromia eyes? giving you different colored eyes and a mask covering your nose and mouth: jaeyun then sees you.

you are the human who helped the deviant androids. the one who points your pistol at him yet didn't shoot.

you are (l/n)(y/n). the girl that people thought to have died 15 years ago.

swan is you: (l/n)(y/n).

want to immerse yourself by knowing more about the world of terra incognita or even ask the characters themselves about their opinions? send a message to cyberspace interactive !

act 3

taglist: @raeyunshm @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @fancypeacepersona @angelhyuka @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @blurryriki @amazzwon @sunpov @ineedsomezzz @stealanity @zyvlxqht @deobitifull @gandaengene @kristynaaah @m1kkso @rosepetals09 @amaraeofsunshine

Uncomfortable.

It’s the only word to describe the situation, whether it’s the fact that he’s alone in Miso’s car without Miso, whether it’s her constantly silent driver Seungkwan’s eyes boring into Yoongi through the rearview mirror, or whether it’s the knowledge that this entire situation could’ve been avoided if he’d just been disciplined enough to get his engine oil checked on time.

He laments the comfort of his Range Rover that’s currently in the shop, where it’s likely to be for a couple of days until they can fix the engine. Miso’s father’s Mercedes is cold and grey, and the ride offered to Yoongi from HYBE to his meeting just doesn’t seem worth it right now.

The traffic light turns green but it takes Seungkwan a few seconds to catch on before he inches forward, and the light turns red again. Yoongi closes his eyes and sighs inwardly, sneaking a look at the driver whose face stays unchanged. The silence is revolting. Yoongi bites his lip and decides to risk it.

“The traffic is something, huh?” he ventures, trying to keep his voice light.

“It’s the same as every day, sir,” Seungkwan replies listlessly.

Right. “Thank you for the ride, though,” Yoongi says afṭer a moment, just like he has at least three times this afternoon.

“Miso ma’am asked, sir.”

That she did. Yoongi couldn’t decide if he’d imagined her smirk but she’d been remarkably deadpan when offering up her car. Perhaps she’d just been looking to be free of Seungkwan’s shadowy presence for a while; that possibility had been the only thing that had gotten Yoongi to agree.

He sighs inwardly, looking around at the leather interiors of the car, waiting for this ride to end. Clearly he’s condemned to it, conversation is a non-starter and he only hopes that Miso will stay late tonight, enough that he can spend it annoying her into apologising.

She’s not likely to do it, though, he realises a moment later, only partly-peeved. His eyes fall to the floor of the car to see something white poking lying by the corner of the seat; reaching for it, he realises he’s seen it before. 

Months ago, on a night that had changed their relationship irreversibly, Miso had taken off her contact lenses and carefully placed them into this very case before hesitantly climbing into bed with him. Yoongi swipes it and slips it into his pocket, glad for another memory he can teasingly leverage over her. 

After what seems like a hundred years and countless missed traffic lights, he finally reaches Hybe. “Thank you again, really,” he says again, bowing as he exits. 

“You’re welcome, sir.”  

He barely waits for Yoongi to shut the door behind him before turning the car around. When Yoongi glances back, he does a double take to see Seungkwan glaring at him through the side mirror just before he turns the corner and disappears.

—

Yoongi is hard at work when Miso stops by his studio later that evening. “Hey,” she says, cracking open the door and sounding slightly breathless. “Are you busy?”

“Kind of,” he admits, standing up and walking towards her anyway. “Are you?”

“Not busy enough to come here and bother you, obviously.”

Yoongi hooks two fingers around her belt loops and tugs her gently forward. “It's become about twelve percent less bothersome over time,” he admits softly, before lowering his head to kiss her.

She grins and kisses him back, slender full-sleeved arms coming around his neck as he backs her into the wall. Her mouth tastes of candy; it's ridiculously attractive and he pulls her hips to his, feeling a semi rising.

“You don't seem too busy either,” she murmurs into his mouth.

“I can be persuaded to take a quick smoke break,” he says, breaking away. “You know, regale you with the adventures of Yoongi and Seungkwan painting the town of Gangnam red,” he adds dryly, giving her a knowing look.

She laughs, her normally guarded face lighting up for an instant. “I’m sure you had a great time but I actually came here to say goodnight.”

“Good -” He checks his watch, frowning. “It’s five-thirty.”

“Yes, but I got a call from my father and…” She shrugs deliberately, her palms facing the ceiling. “He’s having guests over or something so I have that to look forward to. But I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and slides out from between him and the wall to leave.

“What? Wait -” He darts after her, walking her to the lift. “Are you serious? I was kind of hoping - I mean, I moved a meeting to tomorrow so we could -” He stops abruptly, his cheeks heating up.

Miso smirks. “It’s not like I want to go,” is all she says which, coming from her, is about as close to a declaration of love as he’s likely to get. “But with great family baggage comes a great need to not make it worse, so I have to go.” 

They step into the lift together. “I get it,” he sighs, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah?”

“No. But also, yes.” He nudges her shoulder with his. “Even if you will regret losing this chance when I’m gone soon.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be devastated,” she replies, sounding a bit like she means it. “Have you got a date yet?”

“No.” It’s an awkward topic but unavoidable, given the amount of last minute filming and recording he’s rushing between.

Miso nods, and they’re silent for a few moments. “Did anything exciting happen this afternoon?”

“Did it ever,” he says dryly. “Aside from the fact that your driver hates me.”

“He’s my father’s driver, not mine,” she corrects him as she retrieves a lip balm from her bag. “Driver, helper, staff, whathaveyou. But I don’t think he hates anyone. That would involve… I don’t know, emotion? A thought of his own?” She shrugs. “Seungkwan is a stoic soldier. I don’t know why else he would stick with my family for as long as he has.”

“Some people have a masochistic streak,” says Yoongi wisely.

“Hell of a streak to carry on for thirty years.” When the lift doors open, they walk out together towards the parking lot. “He’s not here yet,” she observes, coming to a halt. “Looks like that smoke break might just work out.”

Yoongi grins as they both bring out their packs and light their cigarettes in practiced moves. “So what is this exciting dinner you have tonight?” he asks. “Dad’s business partners?”

“Something like that. I am to be demure.” She catches his eye and shakes her head. “His words, not mine.”

“Mhm.” He doesn’t say anything else, but something feels uneasy. He remembers the last time he’d seen her with one of her father’s business partner types and what had proceeded to unfold. It’s a night he still relives sometimes but he isn’t about to bring it up now. He watches her instead, her cigarette between two fingers while she rummages in her bag for something.

“What am I forgetting?” She clicks her tongue and lets her bag fall to her side. They finish their smoke in comfortable silence when Yoongi spots the familiar Mercedes arriving and Miso drops the stub of her cigarette on the ground, stepping on it.

“Time for me to disappear,” he mutters, finishing his cigarette as well.

Miso gives him a look indicating that it’s too late for that when the car stops in front of them. “I’ll, uh…”

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. It takes every fiber of his being to not touch her right then so he shoves his hands into his pockets and takes a step back. “See you.” His fingers brush against something. “Oh, the thing you forgot - was it your contact lens case?” he asks.

She frowns. “No, I’m pretty sure mine is… yep, it’s here,” she notes, looking inside her bag.

“Really? But I found it in -”

“My charger!” She knocks the ball of her palm against her forehead. “I knew it - I left it in the meeting room. I’ll be back in a minute,” she says to Seungkwan, who’s stepping out of the car, before dashing back inside the building.

Yoongi catches the driver’s eye momentarily before looking away and falls silent, his fingers closing around the case. The silence is incredibly awkward, especially since it hasn’t even been two hours since he was dropped off. After a moment, he bows slightly in acknowledgment. In response, Seungkwan's gaze shifts and rests on him, before slowly moving back to where Miso disappeared.

Why am I so uncomfortable? He pushes his tongue into his cheek, wondering if he should light another smoke. Maybe he should offer one to Seungkwan - that ought to bridge this horrendous gap between them. Or better yet -

“Shit.” Seungkwan mutters under his breath, making Yoongi jump slightly. He watches as the driver turns around and ducks into the car, opening the glove compartment and rummaging under the seat.

“Did you - did you lose something?” Yoongi asks, gingerly making his way over to the back of the car where he'd been seated earlier this afternoon.

Seungkwan simply grunts in response but doesn't elaborate, barely looking up when Yoongi opens the car door and looks around despite having no idea what he's looking for. It takes only a moment later that something occurs to him, something that makes him feel so stupid that he almost curses out loud.

He's about to say something but thinks better of it and simply tosses the lens case under the passenger seat where he'd found it. “I -” He clears his throat. “There's something… there,” he says, pointing innocently.

Seungkwan frowns and leans over, freezing when he spots it. He retrieves it and straightens up, giving Yoongi an appraising look, as though he hadn't ever expected him to make himself useful. He doesn't thank him, though, opting only to nod briefly.

Something akin to approval floods through Yoongi's chest, making him want to smile widely. The whole situation is ridiculous, he knows, but he hadn't quite realised just how much Seungkwan's apathy had been bothering him this entire time. Something must show on his face - maybe the unanticipated thrill at locating a knick-knack or the sight of Miso exiting the lift inside the building - for Seungkwan glances at him and rolls his eyes before looking away, seeming thoroughly unimpressed.

Yoongi catches sight of his reflection in the car window and straightens his face, getting ready to walk by Miso perfectly nonchalantly, possibly brush against her on the way, maybe spot a blush in her pale cheeks -

He turns to give Seungkwan a nod of farewell when the driver finally speaks.

“Keep your distance.”

For a moment, Yoongi doesn't know if he's heard him correctly. It's the most number of words Seungkwan has ever spoken to him unprompted but his face is so still, gaze fixed on Miso, that Yoongi is reduced to simply staring at him. “What?”

“You heard me.” This time his eyes meet Yoongi's for a fraction of a second, and they're hard and unwavering, but also imploring. He's serious, Yoongi thinks. “This ends here.”

Before Yoongi can respond, Miso joins them, her bag hitched on her shoulder. She looks a little surprised to see Yoongi still there but doesn't let on. “Min PD,” she says formally, bowing and standing aside as Seungkwan opens her car door.

“Miso sunbaenim,” he responds automatically, his eyes for once not on her. He waits for any hint from Seungkwan as to what the hell he's talking about but their little interaction may not have happened at all for all the notice Seungkwan gives him.

— 

Miso stares at her reflection in the mirror, her stomach turning a little, the way it has for as long as she can remember in this house. She tucks a choppy bang behind her ear, wishing she hadn’t been so impulsive when choosing to cut off her hair over her bathroom sink.

Smoothing down her brown pencil dress (“Decent and demure,” her mother had informed her loftily when Miso had arrived home early, instantly dismissing any other option she might have chosen instead), Miso sighs. She’d been hoping to stay late at work tonight and get some writing done, possibly get ahead before Donghyuk went on holiday, maybe to also taunt Yoongi about his rather unexpected afternoon.

She knew the CEO her father was entertaining tonight, she knew about his company and she knew that this wasn’t as simple as just any merger. For better or worse, she was a chaebol; a lifetime of being around these people and reading between the lines had given her the ability to decide that this was no ordinary dinner.

Her phone lights up where it’s charging on her dresser. From here, she can see a bunch of texts from Yoongi. Heart slowing slightly, she reaches for her phone when a single knock sounds on the door.

“Miso!” Her mother’s furious whisper is loud enough to reach her. “It’s time. Stop skulking around in your room - it’s rude.”

“Far be it from me to be rude,” Miso mutters under her breath but obeys, slipping her phone into the singular pocket of her knee-length dress.

“They’re here,” Kang Sera says instantly as Miso steps out of her room, already in a slinky black dress and hair perfectly curled around her collarbones.

“Already?” Miso asks, wrinkling her nose slightly. “That’s… eager.”

“It’s polite,” her mother corrects her, although Miso can detect annoyance in her voice as well. “I was almost done getting the silverware polished anyway. Would have been nice to get the plants rearranged but Seungkwan was out all day. He only managed to get to the ones in the front yard.” She turns to Miso, surveying her critically. “I will never understand why you did this to your hair,” she mutters, pretending as though she doesn’t remember the screaming match between them that had led Miso to do this. “I don’t suppose you thought of earrings to cover it up?”

Miso flinches away. “Mother, please. I don’t like dangly earrings.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to make an effort, you know? At least wear the pearls.”

“The diamonds. And studs.”

“Fine,” sighs her mother. In light of this rare compromise, Miso obliges. By the time she leaves her room again, her mother has vanished, leaving only the faintest trace of Chanel No. 5. She can hear people downstairs in the living room; there’s her father’s voice with another man’s, the housekeeper’s occasional soft words, the clinking of glasses and the sudden polite laughter of women.

Miso takes a deep breath and descends the staircase, wondering if she can hang around in the hall on the way to the living room, delaying this night for as long as possible. She passes by the dining room on her way out, counting six place settings. She frowns even though her heart hammers lightly, for she thinks she knows who the sixth place is for. As she reaches the top of the last few steps, the hall comes into view - and Miso freezes.

Ten feet away from her, by the hallway table with an untouched glass of whiskey before him, is Min Yoongi. Right next to him stands her father, suit crisp and one hand in his pocket. Both of them look up to see Miso at the same time, giving her almost no time to compose herself.

“Father. Yoongi,” she says, hearing her voice sound as disinterested as possible. “I wasn't aware you were joining us,” she adds, as though it makes no difference to her.

“He isn't,” says her father at once. “But there was something the company needed me to sign and Min Yoongi here was kind enough to bring it to me personally.” He gives Yoongi an icy smile.

Kind, my ass. There is no doubt in her mind that Yoongi was made to come here, possibly to throw them both off, potentially to threaten her into behaving tonight. She meets her father's eyes, cold and unforgiving, letting nothing slip. She can feel Yoongi next to her, his faint cologne, his hair growing past his neck. She wants to snap at him for not giving her a warning when she remembers the half a dozen texts from him, all unread.

Giving him a cursory nod, she turns back to her father. “Should I go greet our guests?”

“Ah, our guests.” He turns around and as though they’ve been conjured, a duo who can only be father and son approach. “Please, Yoongi, you must meet our esteemed guests tonight. This is Choi Seung-ho, CEO and chairman of Hanseong Collection, the most luxurious chain of hotels in Korea.” He pauses as Yoongi bows “And this is his bright young son who will one day run his company.”

“Not any time soon, I hope,” Choi Seung-ho jokes and the three men laugh politely.

“Although I'm sure there's no one better,” says her father, clapping the son - Jaehyun, she remembers vaguely - on the shoulder. “Running a company would be in his blood.”

Next to her, Miso can sense the disgust and judgment from Yoongi. She feels terribly uncomfortable, with Yoongi and her father's acquaintances together, the silly dress and the blasted diamonds on her ears she knows probably cost more than many people's cars.

“Jaehyun here,” her father continues, “has just returned after completing his Master's at Harvard. That's a university in America,” he adds, clearly for Yoongi's benefit. 

“The best in the world,” Jaehyun's father chimes in. Next to him, Jaehyun has the good sense to look embarrassed as he lowers his head and pushes his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose.

“One of the best, yes. In fact, Jaehyun and Miso have known each other their whole lives. They even went to school together before Miso left for Australia.”

It's a gross exaggeration; Jaehyun had been a couple of years ahead of her in school and as far as Miso could remember, they had probably had one conversation that entire time as teenagers, likely at some dinner like this. 

“If you'll excuse me,” she says hurriedly, doing her best to not turn towards Yoongi at all, “I'll go see if my mother needs any help in the kitchen.”

“She usually does,” her father jokes, leading to some more polite laughter, but gestures his permission for her to go. As she walks away, she hears Yoongi say “I'll take your leave, too, sir”, followed by some vague response. 

She can barely focus as she makes her way to the living room where she finds her mother and another older lady who can only be Jaehyun’s mother. The former spots her instantly, beckoning her with bejewelled fingers.

“Miso! Come meet Choi Dahyun!” 

With no choice but to comply, Miso approaches them while giving their guest a tentative smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” she mumbles, bowing.

“Oh, she’s gorgeous,” squeals Choi Dahyun, helping Miso straighten up and fingering the bottom of her hair. “These young people have such interesting hairstyles - I fear we’re too old to understand them!”

Both women titter loudly, and Kang Sera wraps an arm around her daughter and strokes her arms in an award-winnning performance of maternal affection. “I keep telling her, sometimes the classics never go out of style,” she remarks with ease, her fingers digging deep into Miso’s arms and making her wince.

“It’s probably a generational thing,” says Choi Dahyun, oblivious to her host’s disdain at being referred to as old. “I’m certain it’s a style in America or somewhere - Jaehyun, son! Come here!”

To Miso’s horror, Choi Jaehyun, heir to the Hanseong Collection, approaches them. She’s a bit relieved to see how tentative he is as well, walking into the living room with his shoulders slightly hunched and his hands behind his back. 

“Yes, Mum?” he asks politely, bowing to Miso and her mother. He glances at Miso and averts his eyes respectfully while behind him, Kang Jaesung and Yoongi seem to still be in some kind of a stilted conversation.

“We were just talking,” says his mother enthusiastically, reaching out to grab Miso’s hand and gently pull her to stand next to her so she’s now facing Jaehyun. Behind them, Seungkwan is unloading bottles of Prosecco from a barrel and laying them out on the bar. “And we were saying -“ She breaks off, coughing. Her son instantly rushes to her side but she waves him off gently. “But I suppose you two will have much more in common,” she manages finally.

Jaehyun looks rightly confused but Miso is mostly thankful that he wasn’t asked to opine on her hair while she stood there like a mute mannequin. “Um,” he begins, bowing slightly, “it’s good to see you again, Miso.”

“You, too,” she says automatically, but her gaze is fixed over his shoulder where Yoongi finally seems to be leaving. Just as he’s about to disappear behind the huge wooden door, his eyes meet Miso’s, his expression unreadable. 

“So, how is everything going in here?”

Startled by her father’s commanding voice, she looks away. Her father stands before her, hands in his pockets, and she doesn’t like the hint of smile on his face. Part of it is for his guests, to be sure, but there’s just the slightest amount that is for her. It’s the smile that threatens to appear when he’s preparing for war.

She locks eyes with her father and he sustains it, and Miso knows she has already lost.

—

The next morning, Miso wakes up with her head pounding. She checks her phone for the time and groans softly, dropping her head back on the pillow before wincing. 

She hadn’t intended to drink so much; indeed, in front of guests that were clearly important enough to be courted this way, she’d needed to keep her wits about her. Her father and Choi Seung-ho had started off as potential partners before transcending into quiet competition over whisky and cigars. 

On the other hand, Mrs Choi, while not unkind, had been incredibly transparent about her lifelong desire for a daughter, giving Miso more compliments than she’d ever received in her thirty years. It was almost like she’d been presented with a real-life doll, the way she continued to marvel over Miso’s choppy bangs (each time quietly angering her mother more, she knew), smoothing invisible creases on her dress and at one point, asked Miso and Jaehyun to stand next to each to each other so she might click a picture on her phone. Admittedly, Jaehyun seemed as mortified as she felt, half-heartedly protesting as his mother held her phone two feet away from her face and squinted at the screen, one finger hovering while the leather case of the phone swung open.

It was around this time that Miso had started pounding back the alcohol. She hadn’t made it too obvious but once her mother too had begun praising Choi Jaehyun for being such a fine young man with a stable career and sure to achieve great things, Miso had mentally clocked out. She was no stranger to being compared to her parents’ friends’ children and neither was she oblivious to her mother's growing embarrassment at having a thirty year old unmarried daughter. She'd been quiet and sullen after that (and quite drunk), the only thoughts in her mind being the time remaining before these guests would leave, and texting Yoongi to find out what on earth he'd been doing here.

The thought of Yoongi makes her head hurt even more. He’d responded to none of her texts last night, not until she had called him and he’d cut the call, finally messaging her a few moments later with a single-worded text: Working.

Miso stands up and sways for a moment. She reaches for the bottle of water the housekeeper always keeps refilled every night on her bedside table and drinks, concentrating on the cool liquid spreading through her chest until she’s finished more than half the bottle. After that, the shower helps some and she locates an Aspirin in her bathroom cabinet, slipping it into her pocket to pop in after some breakfast.

The thought of food makes her stomach churn. She leaves her room, contacts in and sunglasses on, bag slung over her shoulder and stops by the kitchen to pick up a single croissant, ignoring the rest of the breakfast spread. On her way out, her mother accosts her.

“Where are you going?” she demands, sounding genuinely curious as she cradles a cup of tea in her hands.

“Work?”

“Oh.” Kang Sera pauses. She looks polished even this early in the morning in black trousers and a white silk button down, not a hair out of place. “I thought you might like to talk.”

Miso hasn’t the energy to even try and decipher what her mother could possibly mean. “Er…. no, thank you, mother,” she says brusquely, sidestepping and continuing on her way.

“But -“ Her mother follows her, down the steps by the gardens and out to the entrance where Seungkwan is waiting with the car, polishing the windscreen when they arrive.

“I’m getting late, mother.”

“You haven’t even heard what I was going to say.” Sera stops, her face tight. “This is important, Miso. Stop behaving like such a child.”

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Miso comes to a slow halt in front of the car. “What?”

Her mother frowns. “And enough with the attitude. I want to talk to you about your future.”

About my career plans, no doubt. “Oh?” she asks innocently, for suddenly this makes sense.

“You’re almost thirty,” Sera begins, “and not getting any younger.” While Miso squints through her sunglasses, bewildered, her mother continues. “And you’re still living here, with your parents.”

“You talk like I have an option.”

“You do. You’ve simply never exercised it.”

“I lived by myself once,” she reminds her mother, taking off her sunglasses and ignoring the sudden jolt of pain between her eyes at the light. Despite the clouds, her head hurts. “In Australia, remember? I was happy,” she adds without meaning to, hearing her voice harden.

“Happiness,” her mother repeats, sipping her tea, “is luck of the draw. I’m talking about your future.” Then, as though she’s changing the topic entirely, her mother shakes her head slightly. “What did you think of Jaehyun?”

“Oh, mother, not this again,” groans Miso, her cheeks heating up as Seungkwan enters their earshot, wiping the sides of the car with single-minded focus. “I don’t want to be -“

“But you have to be,” says her mother simply. “Eventually. It’s part of life, all our lives. Be glad you’re even being consulted about it. I wasn’t.”

The casual admission makes Miso’s heart stop briefly but her mother’s face stays unchanged. She’s aware of the  croissant wrapped in a tissue in her hand, all but forgotten. “I have to get to work,” says Miso eventually, slowly. “Can we talk about this later?”

Kang Sera observes her, taking another slow sip of tea. Next to them, Seungkwan has evidently finished cleaning the vehicle, for he opens the driver’s door and climbs in, rolling down the window and starting the car.

“I had hoped you were wiser than this, Miso,” she remarks, barely-disguised disappointment in her voice. “These choices can shape your entire life. Make the right one.” 

Why? So you can ship me off to another family that controls my every move? Miso is about to retort but her mother beats her to it.

“Unless your dalliance with Min Yoongi is further along than I'd thought.”

The mention of Yoongi sends a jolt of anger through Miso's chest. Her mother's face remains unfaltering; she didn't feign ignorance of his name or use the opportunity to put him down. She was blunt and straightforward and it throws her off. “Mother,” she states firmly, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Her mother scoffs, clearly not fooled. “You're behaving like a child,” she repeats with disdain. “You are already too old and time goes by in the blink of an eye. Do you have any idea how important it is that you choose correctly here?”

“Did you?” Miso fires back, relishing how her mother recoils as though she’s been slapped. “How happy are you with your choices, mother?” 

For once, her mother seems to have no response except for her jaw clenching. Miso takes the chance, placing her sunglasses back on and hurrying into the car. There will be hell to pay for this, she knows, as the car Seungkwan drives out of the compound. Whether it's days of passive aggressive insults or pure sabotage with her father, Kang Sera is not one to be shut up by her daughter. 

As they meander through the familiar roads, the same traffic signals and passing the same shops, Miso's mood only dampens. The sky is overcast which she grimly approves of, and the ride is spent in the typical silence she has come to expect of Seungkwan. 

They finally reach Hybe and Miso barely waits for the car to come to a complete stop before throwing the door open and hopping out. In the rush to grab her bag, the contents spill out and scatter across the ground.

“Goddamnit,” she swears, falling to her knees to begin gathering her stuff. She sees Seungkwan's leg appear and before she knows it, he's helping her as well, obtaining a tube of sunscreen where it had rolled under the car. “Apparently I can't do anything right,” she mutters to no one in particular.

“It's okay, Miss Miso,” says Seungkwan quietly, retrieving her notebook and a pen from near the front tyre and handing it to her before they both stand up. “I'm sure your mother does not mean to be harsh.”

Nothing can surprise Miso at this point, not even the first opinion she has ever heard her driver provide. “I'm sure she does, ahjussi,” she replies, adjusting her bag back on her shoulder. “Otherwise she wouldn't use every opportunity she can to try and shame me for every choice I have ever made, from my hair to my career.”

“She does not mean it,” he insists. He glances at the Hybe building for a moment. “And neither does she deserve it.”

He bows and gets back into the car, smoothly driving away while Miso grits her teeth and clenches her entire face, refusing to let any emotion slip in her workplace. There's a helplessness creeping in her chest as she stands there, staring long after the car has disappeared. I am alone, she realises, not for the first time.

It’s everything - her father's bullying and mind games, her mother's constant judgement, their driver's unsolicited comments in defense of her, the unexpected involvement of Yoongi… Miso seethes. Yoongi. What the hell was he doing there last night?

—

At Hybe, Yoongi taps his pencil on the table furiously. Nothing is going to happen in time, he thinks with annoyance. Not this song that needs to be wrapped up in the next couple of days, not all the filming that's been squeezed in over the next couple of weeks in anticipation of his enlistment date, not the enlistment date his manager swore would be out any day now. 

“Yoongi.” Donghyuk knocks but enters the studio before Yoongi can answer. “Is Miso coming today?”

“How should I know?”

Donghyuk raises his eyebrows. “Because you two are… I mean, aren't you?”

Yoongi finally looks up, looking him straight in the eye. “We're not dating, if that's what you're implying,” he says coolly. Not if her father has anything to do with it.

Kang Jaesung had not mentioned Miso once in the entire time Yoongi had been in his company the previous day. He had invited him via a phone call from his secretary on some thin pretext involving some documents that he’d required to send back to Hybe. A car had picked him up (mercifully not Seungkwan's) and taken him to the Kang estate in the most affluent area of Gangnam. When he'd reached, he'd been ushered in by the housekeeper to wait for Mr Kang, during which time he'd texted Miso yet again, wondering why she hadn't responded yet.

The wait was one thing. When Miso's father had finally greeted him and offered him a drink in a tone that suggested it was more of an order than anything, Yoongi had silently obliged, if only to finally understand what the hell he was doing here. There were guests in the house - that was plain to see. The house looked fancier than most hotels, his glimpse of the kitchen offered a view of multiple courses being prepared, and even Kang Sera had passed by him in a designer dress, sparing him only the most cursory of glances.

“We're hosting some important people today,” Kang Jaesung had informed him casually, as though talking about yet another item in his schedule.

“I should probably get out of the way, in that case,” Yoongi had replied, hoping he would get to the point before Miso arrived so he could just forget this strange evening.

Evidently, Miso's arrival was exactly what her father had been waiting for, for after the initial shock and the faux introductions of his guests, Kang Jaesung had quickly retrieved whatever document he needed, signed it in a couple of places, and sent Yoongi on his way.

Just before he’d left, Yoongi had caught a glimpse of Miso in the living room with their guests, including the chaebol son who would be inheriting a multi-billion dollar company as reward for the great achievement of being born. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why Yoongi had been brought to witness this spectacle, particularly how Miso simply… belonged. This was her world and Yoongi had no place in it.

The pencil snaps between his fingers and the sound jerks him out of his ruminating. 

Even Donghyuk notices. “Wow,” he whistles. “Bad morning?”

“Just…” Yoongi shakes his head. “What do you need? What - how can I help?” he adds, not wanting his general irritation to spill out on everyone else.

“Just need to know where Miso is. She sent the wrong sound byte to Marketing last night, for the new Le Sserafim promo,” he reveals, taking a seat and stretching his long legs under the desk. “It's supposed to go live today and they had to pull it back last minute.”

Yoongi stares, all annoyance briefly forgotten. “Maybe she meant to send it. I mean, she’s been working on it for weeks, right? Maybe… maybe she didn't even send it.” He's aware he’s rambling, but if there's one rule every single producer in the company - or any company - is familiar with, it's the importance of double and triple-checking everything sent to Marketing. Hoseok had once accidentally sent something without everyone's approval and the fallout had been bad. 

The Marketing team had complained about not being taken seriously by the creative types and it had taken the combined forces of Namjoon, Yoongi and the group's entire management team (and one lenient Marketing executive - Mia or something or the other) to douse that fire. The only reason a tearful Hoseok had escaped reprimand was because they'd been about to embark on tour and that had taken precedence over everything else.

But Miso is not about to go on tour. Donghyuk's thoughts seem to be along the same lines, for he simply shrugs in a defeated manner. “Go-live's had to be pushed to next week. They’ve escalated it to the mafia.”

The mafia. That was their decade-old, pre-debut nickname for Bang PD and the rest of the suits, derived from their harsh obsession with money and the visible disapproval every time they spotted any of the idols or producers in baggy or ripped jeans. It had spurred Namjoon to practice facing them during meetings, Donghyuk to thrift shopping for the most dreadful jeans he could get his hands on, and Yoongi to refer to them dryly as the mafia.

“She's screwed,” mutters Yoongi. He half-heartedly debates telling Donghyuk about the stress she's been under - her expression when she'd come face to face with Yoongi last night floats in his mind - but he knows he can't. It would be an invasion of privacy and Donghyuk doesn't need to be burdened with it anyway. Plus, neither of those things compare to the pure fury Miso would unleash on him if he ever told.

“She's screwed,” agrees Donghyuk, nodding sagely. “I'll do what I can to smooth it over but…” He shrugs again and pushes himself to stand up with effort, beckoning Yoongi to join him. “Before you pull another Kim Namjoon,” he quips, picking up one half of the broken pencil and tossing it into the trash. They head out of the studio when Donghyuk's phone rings and he swears. “Wish me luck,” he mutters in a tone that indicates it's pointless to do so, and moves away.

Almost at that very moment, the elevator doors open and Miso steps out, looking ruffled and annoyed. A huge pair of sunglasses are perched on the bridge of her nose and in her hand - Yoongi has to squint - is a half-crushed croissant wrapped in a napkin. She seems to catch sight of Yoongi before scoffing and making a beeline for the coffee station instead.

All of a sudden, the annoyance is back. He struts over to where she is, muttering under her breath while fiddling with the machine and deliberately not looking up when he stops next to her. 

“Something wrong?” he asks stiffly. “Because what you're doing there isn't guaranteed to make the coffee come out any -”

“What do you think you were doing?” She interrupts him, her head snapping up with such force that Yoongi takes a step back. “Yesterday,” she prompts, when he doesn't answer immediately. “I know my father instigated it but was there really no way you could've avoided it?”

Yoongi can't believe this. She's mad at him? “Me?” he exclaims, feeling distinctly like he could snap another pencil. “Do you think I wanted to be there? Standing there while your father talked my ear off about his fancy guests and their silver-spooned kid who, if you must know, studied in America,” he says mockingly. 

“Then why were you? And I know you texted me and I know I should've checked -” She breaks off, turning away to pick up her coffee. The first sip she takes is evidently too hot, for she flinches and Yoongi immediately catches the cup before she can drop it. She'd properly end up burning herself and maybe that would be his fault, too, he thinks sullenly.

“It was such a shitty night,” she mutters, taking off her sunglasses and pressing a knuckle into her eye. “I didn't need to be worried about what you were doing there, too, you know?”

“Maybe consider the fact that I didn't have a choice, princess,” he snaps, ignoring how she glares at him at the nickname. “Aside from being your daddy, he's one of the biggest stakeholders of this company. My company,” he tacked on sharply. “I can't just ignore what he asks, much as I'd like to. I'd think you'd know that, considering the number of times you've warned me about him.”

“I've warned you about situations like this one. To stay out of them. It's never just about one meeting, Yoongi,” she carries on, sounding troubled. “If he's had one conversation with you, it means it's part of a ten-step plan that's already been in motion for weeks.” She shakes her head as though tired of explaining something to a teenager, and it infuriates him. “You could have said no. Or made an excuse. He’s a shareholder in a hundred companies; Hybe’s management is the least of his concerns.”

“It should be your concern,” he bites back without thinking. When she shoots him an inquisitive look, he sighs. “You… you sent the wrong sound byte for the Le Sserafim promo thing. Marketing's thrown a fit and it's gone to -”

“No,” she breathes, eyes widening. “The mafia?”

Yoongi nods, a small part of him proud at how the nickname has caught on. He almost feels sorry for her but the injustice of her anger and the subtle humiliation from last night hasn't faded away. “But, hey, maybe your father can make it go away. I'm sure it'll be a huge stain on his family's honour if his precious daughter gets into trouble at work.”

“Bite me, Min Suga,” she hisses as Donghyuk approaches them, tucking his phone into his pocket. “How much trouble am I in?” she asks him instantly, wasting no time on small talk.

“Less than you might think,” he replies, stopping next to them. “You need to send the corrected version in before one pm.”

Miso frowns. “That's fine,” she says dismissively. “How much trouble am I in?”

“Apparently you have a secret weapon many admire and fear.”

“What?” Yoongi and Miso ask in unison.

“Apparently - “ Donghyuk drags the word out and leans against the coffee counter, as though letting them in on some top-secret gossip “- the issue magically resolved itself when Marketing revealed that it was you who sent the clip,” he tells Miso. “Evidently, no one in the mafia wants to piss off Kang Jaesung by being the one to reprimand his daughter.”

The coincidence is so absurd that Yoongi scoffs loudly, hardly able to believe it. He spares Miso exactly one pointed look, noting her dropped jaw and her pale cheeks flushing, before turning around on the spot and marching away. “What just happened?” he hears Donghyuk say behind him, but he doesn't stop until he's reached his studio, slamming the door shut behind him.

—

“Here.” Miso pressed the send button before tapping Donghyuk on the shoulder. “Listen to it and tell me if it's right.”

“Miso, I just heard it. We're sitting right next to each other. Do you think the file changed from your laptop to mine?”

“Listen to it,” she insists. “Please, Donghyuk. I really don't want to get in trouble again.”

“But you didn't get into -” Something in her expression gives him pause, for Donghyuk sighs and switches to his email. “I'm sure it's the right one,” he murmurs reassuringly as he sets the file to download.

Miso says nothing, chewing on her lip as she watches Donghyuk listen to the clip. Focus, she tells herself. For the last hour, it had taken every ounce of energy to put all other thoughts out of her mind to pay attention to this clip, editing every microsecond to ensure it was absolutely correct.  

“It's perfect,” says Donghyuk, and she breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Send it.”

“You send it,” she says, shaking her head. “I don't want to fuck it up again.”

“You’re not going to -” He sighs, and she’s unsure if she's imagining a note of annoyance in it. “Miso. You made one mistake. It's not the end of the world. In fact, it could've been way worse, if you -”

“Okay, fine,” she says quickly. She can't hear it again, how she could've got in trouble, should've got in trouble, but didn't because she was a privileged little chaebol whose last name solved everything. My father's last name, she corrects herself, cringing when she remembers Yoongi's face. Indeed, the worst thing about this situation was how unequivocally right he'd been.

Donghyuk leaves then for a smoke break and Miso sets down to draft a response to the Marketing team, rethinking every word to toe the lines between apologetic, humble and professional. It's another twenty minutes before she actually sends the email, her heart pounding uncomfortably. 

Exhausted, she closes her eyes and stretches out on the chair. She wishes she hadn't had so much to drink last night. She wishes she'd eaten that stupid croissant instead of throwing it away, she wishes she hadn't snapped at Yoongi and she wishes she hadn’t spent half of last night texting him, only to be ignored. 

His fancy guests and their silver-spooned kid who, if you must know, studied in America. Miso had known, even last night, how much that would sting Yoongi. It was designed to - for once, her father's actions had been fairly transparent and it was a blow to find out they had worked. She should've been supportive this morning, she knows. But her mother, her driver, her father, her hangover… she’d been at her breaking point already when Yoongi had sidled over.

He lumped me in with them, she realises, knowing that that was what hurt the most. It was as though the last year had been wiped away, and he was back to seeing her as a shallow, privileged nepo kid with no substance. Princess, he’d called her. Angry tears well up in her eyes and she brushes them away impatiently. 

She was always angry, she reflects. Angry or sad or mean or straight-up unpleasant. It had taken the better part of two years for Min Yoongi to find her bearable and even that seems to be a thing of the past now. Happiness is luck of the draw, her mother's voice echoes, smug and superior. Without another thought, Miso stands up and gathers her bag and jacket, storming out of the studio. She does have a choice, she thinks as she texts Seungkwan, and she means to exercise it.

Thirty minutes later she sits in the lobby of the top floor of Kang Industries. The office always had a certain quality that made her stomach squirm involuntarily, all the way since she'd been a teenager and was made to sit through her first board meeting. An investor had thrown her a question without warning and she'd been caught like a deer in headlights. It's still one of the scariest moments of her life, the knowledge that she held her father's reputation in her hands while he watched on from the head of the table, menacing as a mountain lion.

Not anymore, Miso tells herself, trying to be louder than the anxiety. She will ask her father, point blank, for her freedom. For her passport, her life, her sole access to her bank account. There is no doubt in her that it will come at a price, but anything feels worth it at this point. Being imprisoned in her room for a while, being financially cut off (her savings are meagre but will suffice for the time being), being made to suffer any number of insults, cutting as they are sure to be. She can survive a few slaps, too, she tells herself, if it means she will finally be free of her parents and of the prison that is their estate.

She glances at her watch. She won't have to wait more than five minutes, she knows. My daughter can never be seen waiting, he'd said once. No matter what I'm in the middle of. There was a subtle threat there, too, that while she had the rare access to his time, she had better hope she wasn't wasting a second of it.

She's about to run through the speech in her mind one more time when the secretary gestures to her and Miso starts, but she quickly recovers and makes her way to her father's office. Glad to have worn a blazer and heels today, she smooths her jeans and knocks, waiting for his deep voice to allow her in.

Kang Jaesung sits behind his desk, flipping through a report. “Aren't you supposed to be at work?”

“I was hoping for an audience with you. It won't take long.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Miso swallows. Not off to the best start. “It's my lunch break.”

“Lunch break,” repeats her father, chuckling. “Astonishing.”

She doesn't respond. She's not meant to, even if it makes her want to roll her eyes. Of course he would find the concept of lunch breaks alien. For all she knows, her father has never eaten lunch a day in his life. She stands straight, waiting for him to speak again when he eventually exhales and sets the report down on the table.

“What is it?” he asks, interlinking his fingers and placing them on his lap. Despite him looking up at her, his presence looms. 

“I -” It was happening, just as she'd feared. Now that she's here, her words are failing her. “I want to make a proposal.” When he says nothing, she continues, trying to keep her voice steady. “I… would like to move out of the house. To start my own life.”

Kang Jaesung takes this in, his face giving no hint to his reaction. “Is there something you feel is lacking in our home?”

Yes. A home. “Of course not. I just… it's time I became independent, is all.”

“Independent?” The word seems to amuse him. 

“Yes,” she replies, resolving not to falter. “Like you did, before you started the company. I want to… I want to try, father.”

His eyes narrow. He knows, she thinks fretfully. She had considered this detail in the hopes it would touch the one thing her father values - pride - but she must have worded it wrong, for he seems to have picked up on the attempt at flattery. Fuck.

“Is that what you think you're going to do?” he asks. “Start another company?”

“If everybody could start a company like this, everybody would be a billionaire,” she murmurs honestly. “I just want… I want to do it on my own. Something… on my own.”

Her father considers this. “And when it gets out that my daughter has suddenly left the family home, living in some district somewhere and working as an assistant producer in one of my shareholdings, what then? I don't suppose you've thought of that?”

“You have a PR team, father,” she replies, for she actually had thought of that. “I have no doubt they will find a way to spin it that will only benefit the company and your name. And if they need me to do anything as well,” she adds after a moment, “I will… I would be happy to.”

He raises one eyebrow, as though watching a mildly interesting television show. He's not buying this, she thinks desperately. Take it all away. The trust fund, the car, the company, everything. Once upon a time, the two hundred billion dollars that could be hers were the anchor that kept her sane, mostly out of spite. Then, after one night in a motel, she had somewhere let go of that as well.

I don't care. I'm done. But she doesn't want to give it away either; her father can sense desperation. Just as she's mentally flailing for something else, her father nods.

“And your friend… Min Yoongi? He has nothing to do with this?”

Miso's heart stops. “No,” she answers, as firmly as she can. “Father… we really are just colleagues. I swear.”

Her father makes an expression that's somewhere in between a roll of the eyes and dismissing a conspiracy theory. “To be young again,” he murmurs, standing up and slipping his hands into his pockets. “Independence,” he repeats one more time, chuckling softly. “You young people have no idea what the word means. You think it's something good, something freeing, to do what you feel like with a never-ending bank balance you haven't worked a day in your life for.”

“I’m not asking for your -”

“My money? Really? After thirty years of living, travelling and thriving on my life's work, now you’re not asking for my money?” His face is still smooth, but his tone is beginning to change. “You're going to live off your earnings from Hybe, is that it? Until some tabloid photographs you living in some slum and the rumours begin that I'm secretly going broke and before you know it, my stock price crashes?”

What the fuck? “I won't be photographed,” she promises weakly. “I'll do my best not to.”

“It's the disadvantage of growing up with everything,” he says, ignoring her. “That boy, last night, he had a similar thought, did you know? He had plans to marry an American girl, some classmate of his. They wanted to settle down there, in the backyard of the country, on some farm. Can you imagine that? A farm? When his father threatened to cut him off, he told him he'd give up the company for that girl.”

Miso feels a silent stab of pity for him, Jaehyun or whatever his name was. She wants to sigh and cry. It's a no, a firm one, and running away in the dead of night seems like the only likely option left to her. Until Seungkwan catches up with me, loyal hound that he is.

“Ludicrous,” her father continues, oblivious to her musings. “Only someone who hasn't had to build a company like that can give it up so easily. Anyway, it didn't last,” he adds, his voice suddenly becoming business-like. “His father put his foot down, his mother cited her failing health and somehow or the other, the boy was back in Seoul with his tail between his legs. Two weeks later he's leading the company's latest joint venture and dining with a potential contract.” 

Miso stares at the potential contract standing across from her, part of her reeling from the two weeks of it all, but mostly hearing the answer loud and clear: Not a chance in hell.

“You were at dinner last night,” he says, coming around the table to stand in front of it. Nothing separates them now but air. “Did you hear that asshat Choi Seung-ho talking about his first merger?”

There was no choice but to answer. “The one where he refused to change the logo of his company even though they would've gone under without it?”

Kang Jaesung nods once. “What does that tell you?”

“That he's proud.”

“And?”

“And… possibly a bit short-sighted.”

“That’s a polite way of saying idiot, but I'll allow it. But, yes, he's proud.” He crosses his arms across his chest. “And did you happen to note his son's reaction to it?”

Miso sees now where he's going with this. Their discussion about her freedom is over, and they've moved on to the only thing he cares about. “He disapproved,” she answers, defeated. “Not openly, but he looked away. But he agreed to add your name to the headline sponsors for their new chain of resorts if you give him a reasonable price for his contract.”

Kang Jaesung tilts his head, a peculiar expression on his face. It's not one she can remember seeing before. “Yes, he did. A silly romantic he may be, but the boy might have a better sense for management than that pompous father of his. Still, he's a green boy,” he remarks, clicking his tongue. “He asked for something else, too, if you recall.” 

He's testing me, she realises. More than that, he seems impressed. It's a tightrope, unfamiliar territory, especially because this was the point during the discussion that she'd begun drinking. “He asked for a non-severable contract. Not in those words exactly, but that's what he meant. Highly binding, lower scope to exit… that's what he wants.”

“He would've been a fool to use those exact words,” her father agrees. “What does it tell you? If he's asking for these things?”

That he doesn't trust you. She looks her father straight in the eye, hating him… and yet, wanting to answer correctly. “That he's cautious.”

Kang Jaesung’s face moves slightly in what she imagines may be a hint of a smile. “You look more like your mother every day,” he muses, surprising her. “But you have a mind for business that she lacks. And an ability to not care what people think of you.”

She isn't sure if it's a compliment. The mention of her mother is also strange; she almost never comes up in conversations with her father.

“It's a shame,” he continues, walking back around the table and taking a seat once again. “You might have even been a great asset to this company.”

That settles it then. Miso had suspected for years that the company would never be hers. There was a time when he'd been actively grooming but somewhere along the way, that had stopped. She’d never known why but she’d forced herself to look at the bright side: she wouldn’t have to be attached to Kang Industries for the rest of her life, and she wouldn't be associated with her father’s legacy forever. She'd known - and yet, the confirmation feels like a blow. Her eyes sting with sudden tears but she dare not cry. That's what he wants.

“You're correct, as it happens. He is cautious.” Her father pauses, sitting back and crossing his legs. “Jaehyun's father called me this morning, asking if I would permit his son to take you out to dinner tonight. I said yes.”

Miso's blood runs cold. No, not again. “No,” she blurts, the fear clawing its way up her chest. “I mean - father… please don't make me -”

“You said it yourself. He's cautious.” He shrugs. “This is how we assuage that.”

“We?” she exclaims without thinking, realising how loudly she's spoken only when her father's jaw clenches. But her mouth won't stop. Not again. “I won't do it. I… not again. Father, I'm a thirty year old woman - you can't make me -”

“You're my daughter!” Kang Jaesung raises his voice at her for the first time in years, on his feet in a flash. “You live in my house, on my money and you carry my name. My name!” he repeats, slamming his hand on the table so suddenly that she flinches backwards. “You will go tonight and you will do what my company needs. And make no mistake,” he snarls, leaning forward. “If I need to, I can and will make you.”

Miso’s hands are frozen and her throat hurts as she struggles to not break down in tears before him. “Father,” she manages hoarsely, so afraid. “Please. I'm asking you, please… I’m your daughter.”

“Yes, you are,” he agrees quietly. “And as long as you carry my name, you will do as I say.” He sits back down and picks up a different report. “You may see yourself out.”

—

Emails come and go, but not the one Yoongi is waiting for. It's not so much that he's waiting for it, he reflects, but he just wants to know. There are plans to be laid, things to be completed, peace to be made…

He bites a nail and glances surreptitiously at Donghyuk's studio, where the door remained stubbornly shut. He'd caught a glimpse of Miso going in there a few hours ago, huge sunglasses on her face and walking with a clear destination in mind. He knew she was alone in there (Donghyuk had left for a meeting) and he'd even gone up to the studio a little while ago, hoping to air things out, but the sliding sign on the door had been set to ‘Do Not Disturb’. 

Yoongi wasn't conceited enough to think that the sign was for him specifically, for they'd had worse fights. He respected her space in any case but after a while, even that had begun to annoy him. It really wasn't that big a deal, he argues even now, standing by the big windows overlooking the city. Trust her to hold a grudge.

He’s just debating heading home for an early night, maybe picking up his Range Rover from the damn shop if it's ready, when he sees her appear from around the studio hallway. Without warning, his heart skips a beat, but he doesn't move. She has her phone to her ear, tucked in the crook of her shoulder, while her other hand fiddles with her cigarette pack and a lighter as she hurries towards the glass doors leading to the outdoor smoking area.

She hasn't seen him; he's too far away and in any case, the phone call seems like a stressful one. Yoongi frowns; is it her father? That would explain the hunch in her shoulders, her stiff pacing outside as she nods into the phone and the long drags she’s taking. Kang Jaesung, one day I will kill you. He feels a grudging regret for how he'd snapped at her this morning. She'd snapped as well, but maybe if he had a super villain like her father constantly breathing down his neck…

Outside, Miso nods wordlessly before hanging up and stopping abruptly. She stands there, in the middle of the balcony, and finishes the entire cigarette until it's down to the stub. She stays frozen in place, almost like a statue with the stub still dangling from in between her fingers. Then she takes a deep, visible breath, as though to calm herself, and drops the stub before retrieving another cigarette.

Something's wrong. Yoongi can feel concern taking over now as he walks over to the balcony, just as she's walking over to the edge. The wind is stronger than he'd expected, brisk and sharp and smelling of rain. The clouds are thick and grey as well - and low, taking over the sky as he reaches her. She makes no motion of acknowledgement, none at all, but there's no way she hasn't seen him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, even though that wasn't the first thing he was meaning to say. He has to raise his voice a bit over the wind, pulling his jacket tighter around him. 

Miso on the other hand doesn't seem to be even feeling the cold. Her short hair blows back in tangles but her face is unnaturally pale. Somehow, the cigarette is still lit. She doesn't answer him… but she isn't quite ignoring him either.

“Miso,” he begins, before sighing and stepping forward to stand shoulder to shoulder at the railing. “Was that from the mafia? Or your father?” When she doesn't speak, he changes tacks. “Look, I don't blame you for being stressed this morning. And I know I was taking some stuff out on you that was… not about you. Well, not about you, specifically, but… Miso, c'mon, are you icing me out or something?”

It's a small movement, but she shakes her head. It's something. Encouraged, Yoongi continues.

“Do you want to… talk about it? Or argue about it?” he adds, trying half-heartedly to lighten the mood. “If you're staying late, I'm sure we’ll have the time.”

“I can't,” she says finally, although her voice is so quiet that for a moment he isn't even sure she's actually spoken, not until she turns momentarily to face him, dropping her half-smoked cigarette on the ground and stamping it out. She meets his eyes briefly and he's taken aback to see them rimmed in red. “I have a date.”

The way she says it, he knows instantly it's not a date by choice. The memory of her last “date” floods through his mind and he's reduced to staring at her in shock while she listlessly turns away, leaving Yoongi alone in the balcony while the clouds seal the sky like a coffin.

He stands there for a few moments, maybe minutes, maybe hours, processing her words. I have a date… Miso’s expression had been blank, as though all the emotion had been sucked out of her. It feels like a long time ago, the last time he’d seen her on a date with a corporate type, smug and slimy in an expensive suit, hovering around Miso and steering her away like he owned her. Yoongi had spied her disappearing into a car with him…

By the time Yoongi hurries inside the building, ignoring the stupid sign on Donghyuk's studio, Miso is gone.

The rest of the evening goes by agonizingly slow. Yoongi can't bring himself to go home, not when he knows Miso is God knows where with God knows who. Just like last night, his texts and calls to her go unanswered. Call me or text me when you can please. Please Miso. Even if you're mad at me. Send me an emoji flipping me off if you must. He sends it like all the others, desperate and useless.

He drops his head into his hands. If he hadn’t picked a fight with her this morning, she may have confided in him. Or maybe not. He remembers the midnight after the last date, when he’d sought her out here, in the office. She’d acknowledged his attempts to reach her. But don’t ever do that again, she’d told him.

But that was different, a voice insists. We were barely friends back then but now we’re… Yoongi bites his lip. There’s no time. Miso’s life was always on a different trajectory than his, a whole different world of torment and danger. She’s on a date with that chaebol from last night, he’s sure of it. And her father had rubbed every last moment of it in my face, before it had even happened.

The fury rises in him, so immense that it almost chokes him. Suddenly, he can't stand to be inside his studio anymore. Feeling suffocated, he gets to his feet in an instant and collects only his phone before getting the hell out of there and out into the night.

It's not polite to smoke in polite but Yoongi can't give a fuck. He'd had the foresight to also grab a snapback before leaving; lowering it over his head he lights a cigarette and walks along the pavement, his mind swimming with smoke, wind and Miso.

It’s beginning to drizzle by the time he realises where his feet are taking him. It’s dark and he's half a pack down when Yoongi slows down at the edge of the row of affluent estates. There's never any danger of running into anyone he knows here; this isn't a place where a celebrity would buy a house. This is old money - this is wealth. Generational wealth, not the kind built on art or passion but cold, calculating businesses. He wonders where Miso is right now, and what she would think about what he’s planning to do.

What am I planning to do? All he knows is that he needs to be face to face with this man who hates him - but the moment he steps onto the estate, he falters. What is he meant to do now? Walk up and ring the doorbell and ask for the CEO of Kang Industries?

It all suddenly seems like a bad idea, especially when he recalls the number of times Miso has asked him to stay away. Yoongi is just about to reconsider and maybe try to call her when he spots a figure in the garden - and the figure spots him.

No turning back now, Yoongi thinks as Kang Jaesung steps into view, phone to his ear and cigarette in the other hand, almost a mirror image of his daughter a few hours ago. Yoongi takes off his cap as the older man strolls over, still murmuring into the phone, and is momentarily thrown into the light as the gate opens behind Yoongi and the hum of a car carries over softly.

“Min Yoongi,” he says, after he ends his call. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Without waiting for an answer, his eyes dart to where the car approaches the driveway and stops just behind them. Yoongi turns automatically to see Seungkwan in the driver’s seat and Miso stepping out of the car. Her hair is in soft waves and she's wearing a navy dress that stops above her knees, with a black leather jacket on top. She catches sight of her father first and then Yoongi. Just like yesterday, her face looks alarmed for only a fraction of a moment before it goes slack.

“Father,” she mutters, not sparing Yoongi another glance.

“How did it go?” her father asks, as though asking for a marketing report.

Miso seems to think about it for a moment. “Good,” she says. “It's late,” she adds after a moment and even though she doesn't look at him, Yoongi has a feeling it's for his benefit.

Kang Jaesung smiles coldly but says nothing. “Where did he take you?”

“La Yeon.”

“And?”

“The salmon was overcooked,” is all she says. Her face is as blank as it had been earlier this evening, except for the faint glow of make-up covering her paleness.

Her father looks like he's about to respond but eventually nods once. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he promises softly, and it's a clear dismissal. Miso nods and turns to leave but - and Yoongi knows he hasn't imagined it - her eyes dart to his in a flash before she walks away.

Yoongi tries not to watch; there's a flood of something in his chest, something light and simultaneously painful and he realises it's relief. He doesn't know what happened on her date but she's here, she's okay. He stares at the ground until she's out of his peripheral vision before tearing his gaze away and looking up at Kang Jaesung, whose cold eyes seem to pierce him.

He's waiting for me to speak. Yoongi feels a shiver go through him but clenches his teeth through it. “Why did you invite me here yesterday?” he asks finally.

“Why do you think?”

“I don't know. That’s why I asked.”

It's bordering on insolence; Yoongi can sense it in the way the corners of Kang Jaesung's mouth turn down slightly. “I think you do,” he answers, very clearly.

Why am I afraid of him? Yoongi thinks in frustration. “You could've sent anything you needed to Hybe. You could've asked anyone to come pick it up from here.”

“But why did I ask my daughter's colleague, hm?” He frowns, his tone patronizing, as though asking a ten year old a question with an obvious answer.

“She has plenty of colleagues.”

Kang Jaesung nods and then exhales, his eyes shuttering over, as if this farce with Yoongi is no longer worth his time. “I think you know exactly why you were brought here last night, Min Yoongi,” he says again, his tone far more business-like. “You saw what you did last night. And you saw what you did just now,” he adds, tilting his head in the direction of his enormous house. “And now you know, I hope, that you have no place here. My daughter thinks she’s subtle when it comes to you but she needn't waste her breath. I couldn't care less about how she passes her time, but her path lies elsewhere. You are not worthy of my daughter, and I expect I only need to say this once.”

Yoongi holds his gaze, determined not to look away. He knew, he realises. Of course he knew what this was all about - he'd known it the whole time. He doesn't know why he needed to hear it or why his stomach feels like it's being squeezed to death. These are his words, he thinks silently, forcing his face to remain motionless. But, to his horror, he can feel his vision blurring. He blinks and exhales as nonchalantly as he can, reminding himself that Kang Jaesung does not know his daughter at all.

“She does deserve better,” he spits, registering how her father's face stays stony and unmoving. For a wild moment, he reminds Yoongi of Taehyung, of his smooth and impassive face in moments of true anger. But any humanity or vulnerability that Taehyung has in abundance is missing from this man’s face. And this is the man that controls Miso's life.

“Thank you for your candour,” he says flatly, but just as he turns to leave, Kang Jaesung stops him. 

“You're still a guest, Yoongi. And it's about to rain. Seungkwan will drop you.” He tilts his chin again and the driver appears at their side from the shadows.

“That's not -”

“Yes, it is.”

Yoongi wants to refuse. He wants nothing from this man, but the raindrops start falling on cue. Both the older men are still looking at him so Yoongi gives a small shrug, as though he couldn't care either way. Seungkwan presses the button on the car key and the car beeps and Yoongi, unable to look at Kang Jaesung any longer, turns and lets himself into the backseat of the car.

Kang Jaseung watches him enter and run a hand through his growing hair. “Drive him home,” he tells the driver. “And make sure he doesn't come back here again.”

—

The rain pours outside, coating the windows and making the city a blur as Yoongi rides in the same damn car he's come to heavily resent by now. The heat in the car is on but it makes no difference to him - his extremities feel numb, his cap still dangling from his frozen fingers.

You have no place here. I couldn't care less about how my daughter passes her time, but her path lies elsewhere. Yoongi doesn't think he'll ever forget these words, nor how Kang Jaesung had leaned close to him with his cold, stony eyes that flicked up and down, as though Yoongi was beneath him. Well, I haven't got my Masters from Harvard, the university in America.

His fingers clench around the rim of his cap. His face burns, with anger, with hatred, with the humiliation of knowing he had gone to Miso's twice in two days, once out of choice, only for it to be drilled into him each time that he was not worthy.

Miso doesn't think like that, he tells himself. It's not her fault she’s born into this… and yet, she'd gone on the date tonight. Yoongi is almost completely certain that it wasn't her choice to do so, but was anything her choice anymore? Her path lies elsewhere. He tries, tries to imagine Miso being his girlfriend - going on dates, living together, planning trips, cooking in pajamas… it seems like a badly written movie.

“Next left,” says Yoongi automatically, sounding hoarse, just as Seungkwan drives past it. Yoongi fights the sudden urge to punch the seat in front of him and yell I said next left! But he controls it with effort, gritting his teeth as the car takes the next turn, the one that leads to the back gate of the complex, possibly in some shitty power struggle to make him walk the long way to his building. 

Something catches Yoongi's eye and he looks down. Somehow, the same familiar contact lens case is on the floor again, having rolled back from under the driver's seat. In a fit of petty vindication, Yoongi picks it up and pockets it. Keep searching for it now, he thinks savagely.

The car comes to an abrupt halt a few feet away from the back gate. Yoongi frowns, but Seungkwan is already unstrapping his seatbelt and throwing open his door. Yoongi follows, the torrential rain drenching him in seconds.

“What's going on?” 

He looks around to see that they’re even farther away from the gate than he'd thought. It's just the tall boundary wall and the mud path that leads down to the gate that residents of the complex use when they're being followed by Dispatch or crazy fans. Yoongi can't remember ever entering through here, not since the realtor had shown him this road when he'd bought the place.

Yoongi turns back around. “Why are we -”

A blow hits the side of his face, knocking him off balance. His hands come up automatically to break his fall, the cap dropping into a puddle. He punched me, Yoongi thinks, surprisingly clearly as his hand comes up to feel his face. His whole face feels like it’s vibrating and his ears are still ringing through the din of the rain.

“What are you doing?” Seungkwan exclaims, standing over him. “I told you to stay away from her,” he says urgently. 

Yoongi frowns, confused - and angry. He scrambles to his feet and lunges forward to grab the driver's collar. “Me? What are you -” 

This time he sees the punch coming and is able to block most of his face but feels a searing pain in his mouth as the driver’s fist catches his chin and his lip splits open over his teeth. He stumbles backwards and falls to one knee as he gingerly touches his lip, wincing in pain as his sleeve comes back bright red.

“Good, there's blood,” mutters Seungkwan, taking out his phone and shielding the top from the rain before snapping a picture of Yoongi. “Take my damn advice, kid,” he says roughly, “and stay away. It's not worth it.”

Stay away, Min Suga. “What is your problem?” he shouts, tasting blood and rain water streaming down his face. “This is none of your -”

“I work for him so yes, it is,” Seungkwan interrupts, taking a step towards him. His face is less angry now, more pitying. “I bear you no ill will. And I'm sorry.”

Before Yoongi can react, a kick to his solar plexus knocks him to the ground, and the world goes dark.

—

This is a bad idea.

For many reasons, this is a horrible, dangerous, stupid and bad idea.

But here you are anyway. With a suitcase in one hand and an iced latte in the other hand. Heart beating fast, chest heaving. 

This is a really bad idea. 

Just when you think about turning around again, the grand oak door in front of you opens, and one handsome-looking man in a black linen shirt and washed-out blue jeans looks down on you.

“You came,” he smiles, and you feel your cheeks heat, feel yourself questioning your sanity once again. 

Jake pulls you into a hug, and while you can’t really hug him back (courtesy of the suitcase and coffee), it does kind of ease your worries. He feels warm and familiar, his scent seeping into your nose and reminding you of the last time you saw him. How he had held you then, soothing you with rubs on your back, letting you sob into his expensive white dress shirt. 

The memory comes back crashing down on you, and the anxiety rises again. You shouldn’t be here. You should be at home playing Stardew Valley or Sims, or do anything else. 

When he pulls away again, his gaze is still warm - but it’s also wondering. Wondering if you’re okay, if you really want to be here. It’s safe to say your face isn’t relaying the message that you do. 

"Come, everyone else is here already.” 

He grabs your suitcase with one hand and then your hand with the other and leads you into the house (or mansion, more like), and you swallow down whatever lump has formed in your throat. Behind you, the heavy door falls shut, and your eyes roam around the entrance hall. Its wooden details are beautiful - hardwood floors, a grand staircase in the prettiest dark brown, leading up to the first floor. A centrepiece on a wooden table, flowers reminding you of spring and warmth and sun. 

Jake places your suitcase next to the others already standing at the side of the room, continuing to lead you through the house. Through the archway leading into the living space that impresses you just as much as the room you came from. High ceiling, a chandelier hanging over the dining table in the middle of the room, and an enormous dark blue velvet couch standing just on the right side of it. On the wall in front of it hangs the biggest TV you have ever seen, and you can imagine yourself sitting there, watching a show or a movie, cuddled up to Jake’s side. 

You’re quick to let go of that fantasy, though, when you step out of the living room and onto the patio. It is just as wide as you’d have expected. Green on the ends, a pool right there on the left side - marble floors leading to the seating area where you can spot more familiar faces. 

Jake’s hand suddenly feels wrong on your skin. It feels wrong and too warm, almost seems to burn you. 

You know why. It’s not hard to guess why. 

The early autumn breeze makes you shiver, your hand pulling away from Jake’s hold, moving into the pocket of your dark brown coat. Instinctively, you take a sip from your ice-cold drink - not sure why you even got a cold one in the first place, considering the temperatures. 

It is their eyes on you, though, that almost makes the shivers turn into waves of heat. Their eyes make the thought of a hot drink in early October seem like the worst idea possible. Perhaps you had foreshadowed this at the coffee shop earlier. Perhaps your mind had known. 

Nevertheless, whether you predicted this or not, you are here, and so are they. You have never seen them in sweaters and coats before, have never seen their cheeks red because of the cold. Even now, months later, they take your breath away. 

You haven’t seen them ever since their wedding day - even though your mother had invited you to family dinners over and over again, you had always declined. Too heavy was the memory, the knowledge of what you had done. It isn’t even because of some kind of redemption arc your sisters are following - because they aren’t. They are still nasty and rude and straight-up horrible to you, every chance they get. If you were anyone else and if maybe all of it had really just been for sex and to get back at your sisters, maybe then the memory and knowledge wouldn’t be such a burden. 

Right now, it is a burden. A burden so huge you feel your stomach dropping to your feet, closely followed by your heart. 

Both of them stand up, their eyes still burning holes into your face, your body, your mind. Heeseung’s hair is longer, and Sunghoon cut his. Both of them have dyed it darker, making them look older, more sophisticated. More like husbands. You can see their rings reflecting the little sunshine this day allows, and your heart seems to fall even further. 

Of course, they’re wearing their rings. Why wouldn’t they? Your throat closes up, and your inner voice is yelling at you to turn around, to leave, to run as fast as you can. Honestly, you don’t even remember why you said yes to this in the first place. Wasn’t it clear to you back then that the memory of you and them would come right back? 

You stop in your tracks, and Jake doesn’t notice. He continues walking while you fall back into the memory that has been haunting your dreams, has been keeping you up. Has your cunt clenching, your fingers winning against your brain, losing themselves in you every night. Getting you to highs only the two men standing before you ever could. 

-

6 months prior - The wedding day

Neither Heeseung nor Sunghoon have been to your hotel room the last two nights. Probably better this way, you think, looking at your reflection in the mirror. The dress looks better on you than you anticipated, way better. Yes, the colour is… not what you’d have picked for yourself, but it suits you well enough. 

Rosy pink, stopping right in the middle of your thighs. There is a small slit on the right side, showing off the start of your stockings, and a part of you triumphs - your sisters sure as hell did not expect you to look sexy in this dress. Most certainly not fit for a wedding. Your boobs are pressed together, pushed up and look ready to be devoured, the golden necklace accentuating your cleavage even more. Your hair is up, only two curled strands framing your face, soft make-up to fit the colour of the dress and finally some beige heels. 

A knock on your door makes you flinch.

“Y/N?” It’s Jay’s voice, you realise. Frowning slightly, you walk over to your door and open it, very obviously catching Jay by surprise. 

You’re a sight for sore eyes, Jay thinks. A sight for sore eyes and for the private folder on his phone. God, what would he give to see those videos of you. He knows Hee took them, knows Hoon has seen them. It almost can’t be helped that he’s staring right at your tits, that his dick is hardening at the thought of what they might feel like between his hands, around his cock. 

“Jay? What is it?” You ask, noticing his eyes on you. Not that it was hard to miss in the first place. 

The man before you coughs, then clears his throat. His eyes meet yours, and a caught smile is on his lips, accompanied by pink cheeks. He’s adorable. Adorable and hot.

“Uh, yeah. They wanna see you.”

“They? My sisters?”

"No. The grooms.”

Your pulse quickens. The grooms? Who haven’t done as much as look at you the past two days? You almost scoff.

“What for?” You ask, leaning against the door frame. Jay shifts on his feet. Wonders if you really don’t know. If you really can’t guess what they want to see you for, two hours before they’ll walk down the aisle to marry women they didn’t even like that much. He clears his throat again, finds himself looking at your tits again.

“They didn’t say.” 

He’s lying, you’re sure of it. And yet… You figure it’s not hard to figure out. Your body grows hot, not just because Heeseung and Sunghoon are waiting for you, but because Jay’s eyes on your body feel insanely welcome. They distract you from your thoughts about the groom-to-be, distract you from the guilt. A part of you wants to invite him in, have him be the one to take you instead of the two men who will become your brothers-in-law in less than two hours. 

You lick over your lip.

“Fine. Where are they?”

- The groom’s room is not as big and not as grand as the bride’s, but it’s still pretty. High ceilings, ornaments adorning them, a chandelier engulfing the room in rich, warm light. The curtains, thick, heavy and bronze-colored, are closed, making the room seem a bit smaller. There are two armchairs in the same bronze standing around a fireplace, and on the opposite side stands a couch, big enough to serve as a bed. 

And on it sit the grooms, their tuxes on, only the flies hanging around their necks loosely. They are holding glasses filled with what seems to be whiskey, and you feel your heart clench at the sight of them. The two prettiest men you have ever laid your eyes on, soon to be wedded to your sisters, the two women who do not deserve them in the slightest.

“You’re here,” Heeseung says and gets up, walking over to you with three big steps. He downs his glass and looks into your eyes after, licking his lips. It’s almost annoying how this little gesture already makes your thighs press together.

“Looks like it.” You have no clue where the confidence comes from, maybe from the way Jay looked at you earlier, or maybe from knowing that they want you, that they couldn’t get married without having you one last time. But Heeseung smirks, placing his glass on the small side table next to the door.

“You look…,” he begins, one of his big hands moving to your waist, squeezing you, “so fuckable right now.”

Shivers run across your spine, and your throat's suddenly all dried up. The spot he touches you runs hot as fire. 

“You really don’t know how to compliment a lady, Heeseung.” Sunghoon stalks over to you. Watches you with those eyes that seem to gaze right into your soul. Finally, he comes to a stop behind you, letting his hand take over the other side of your waist. 

“How lucky for us, this isn’t a lady but a whore, right?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all while your core already aches for them to take you. Your earlier confidence fades and instead makes place for the woman you know they want you to be, and you know you want to be for them. Your eyes widen, and you turn your head around to look at Sunghoon, who wears a smug smile on his pretty lips. 

“Oh, how right you are, Hoonie.” Heeseung chuckles, hand moving down to your ass, pushing you against him. A gasp escapes you, and your hands find purchase on his chest, your head back to stare at Heeseung. 

“We could take you just like this, baby. I take your sweet little pussy, and Hoonie gets to fuck your pretty ass - how’d you like that?”

Sunghoon’s lips hover over your neck, his hands slipping under your dress, fingers pressing against your drenched folds. He chuckles against you, licks the sweat from your skin and gets you to whimper pathetically.

“Oh, she’d like that very much,” he finally answers for you, sucking on your skin next, just when Heeseung dashes forward, his free hand grabbing your left breast, squeezing it harshly, and kissing you. Kisses you with fire burning as hot as the sun, passion as desperate as you’ve been feeling all this week. Your legs grow weak, and your eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed and yet oh so willing. 

Sunghoon shoves your panties to the side, feels through your folds, licks and kisses your neck and Heeseung’s tongue thrusts into your mouth as if he’d starve if he didn’t. Your arms lock around his neck, your leg wrapping around his, and Sunghoon takes the moment to rip your panties off you, the useless fabric getting discarded on the floor, shoving two of his fingers inside your throbbing cunt. You cry into Heeseung’s mouth, and the man grins against you, before licking into your mouth again, wanting to taste all of you. 

Sunghoon’s fingers find a relentless pace, fucking into you like he wants you to come in record time. The feeling of your pussy around him, knowing that you’re this wet because of them, that you’re willing to do this even now, even after what had happened - Sunghoon fears he is addicted to you. Fears you have taken over his mind completely, have made it impossible for him to think of anything else. 

He bites your shoulder and revels in your taste, his free hand wandering to grab your other breast, realising soon you’re not wearing a bra and feeling his cock harden even more against your perfect ass. 

“They really picked this dress for you, sweetheart?” Heeseung smirks, his hand moving from your ass up to your face, grabbing your chin and licking over your bottom lip. You whimper once again.

“Picked a dress for a hooker, more like,” Sunghoon comments, grinding his erection against your ass. You push back against him, his fingers still pounding into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. At this point, it’s hard to keep your eyes open, your mouth hanging open, glassy eyes staring up at Heeseung.

“Such a fucking slut, bet you really feel yourself in this dress, hm? How much you look like nothing but a cheap whore,” Heeseung grabs your chin harder, his eyes slowly losing focus. He’s so hard in his pants, leaking into his briefs, and he wants nothing more than to bury himself in your perfect, tight cunt.

“Tongue out,” he orders you next, and you oblige immediately, your tongue sticking out of your mouth, while small moans keep escaping your throat caused by Sunghoon’s fingers inside of you. 

Then, you watch Heeseung and feel yourself clench down hard on Sunghoon‘s fingers. He lets a drop of spit fall onto your tongue, slowly and sensually, his eyes never leaving yours. It’s one of the single hottest things you have ever experienced, and you can’t help but come right then and there, your cries getting louder as you squeeze around Sunghoon’s fingers.

“Fuck, she came from you spitting on her tongue,” Sunghoon moans, burying his head in the crook of your neck and sucking on your skin once more, fucking you through your orgasm. 

Heeseung’s smirk grows wider, grows even a little bit crazy. You’re all theirs. You’d do anything for them, want everything they give you, and take everything they are willing to hand you. 

"Good girl.” Heeseung signals Sunghoon to stop finger-fucking you with one look, and once Sunghoon pulls them out, you fall forward right against Heeseung’s chest. The handsome man kisses the top of your head while shoving your dress up with his hands, leaving Sunghoon with the perfect view of your ass. Licking his lips, the younger man places both of his hands on top of your cheeks, squeezing them over and over, his eyes focused on the way your skin turns red, how you moan at his touch, your hips wiggling.

You’re desperate for more. It doesn’t matter who’s gonna fill you; you just need someone to do it. Both of them are well aware, and both of them are more than happy to oblige. Yet, Heeseung is the one calling the shots, and he moves back a little, using his hands to bend you over, your face now perfectly situated in front of his bulge. Your mouth waters.

“Now, sweetheart. You’re gonna get your face and your pussy fucked at the same time, just like back at the restaurant. Missed seeing you choke on my cock, I must admit. Only imagined that when I fucked your sister yesterday. Came on her ass, imagining it was your face, baby.” 

He opens his pants and shoves them as well as his briefs down, all while he speaks. Jealousy mixed with pride fills your chest, but there isn’t much time to explore this when you feel Sunghoon’s cockhead bumping against your entrance at the same time as Heeseung grabs his cock and slaps it against your cheek. You cry out once more, your pussy throbbing with need and anticipation. 

There are no words to describe how much Heeseung loves seeing you like this. Obeying, submissive, ready for anything. Slapping his cock against your face is one of his favourite memories to play over and over again in his head when he jerks off, when he fucks his fiancé. Seeing the way your eyes widen, how desperate you look, how starved for his cock. You are perfect in every way. He hates that you weren’t his for the keeping, and that this would be the last time he ever gets to do this. 

He grabs for something else on the side table then, and you find yourself being filmed a second later. Your pussy flutters. He is going to record this just like he did all your other encounters. Part of you wishes he’d share it with you, another hopes this never sees the light of day. 

“Such a good obedient little whore we got ourselves,” he purrs, “so pretty and so so fucking dirty.” As if to accentuate the last word, he slaps his cock against your cheek again, leaving a stain of precum right there in the corner of your lips. He growls when you lick it off, your eyes basically pleading with him to fuck your throat. 

“So, so tight,” Sunghoon moans, shoving his cock into your hole now, causing your eyes to roll back. He stretches you out so good, makes all of you vibrate around him. Inch by inch, you feel yourself fall harder, deeper and faster. When he bottoms out, both of you moan loudly, and Heeseung takes the wide opening of your mouth as his cue. He shoves his cock into your mouth, forces it down your throat and has you choking on him in mere seconds. Tears fill your eyes, but your pussy clenches down on Sunghoon’s cock, waves and waves of pleasure going through you. 

“Fuck, yeah, take it all,” Heeseung is in a trance, one hand on your head while the other holds his phone as good as he can, staring at the way you take his cock down your throat, his thrusts hard and fast, perfectly matching Sunghoon behind you. Sunghoon, whose fingers are going to leave bruises on your hips from how hard he is gripping you as he fucks you completely and utterly stupid. His balls slap against your folds with every thrust, his groans a symphony in your ears. Your eyes are rolled back at this point, taken over by nothing but pure bliss and pleasure. There is nothing you want more than for them to fill you up, for them to claim you as theirs. 

Tears begin to stream down your face now, staining your face with mascara, and Heeseung thinks he’s just entered heaven. And when you come around Sunghoon’s cock, milking him, strangled moans around Heeseung in your mouth trying to come out, he knows he’s in love with you. 

He shoots his seed down your throat without notice, a guttural moan escaping him, and you swallow all that he gives you without a second thought. Sunghoon curses under his breath and finds himself tumbling over the edge as well, filling your pussy with his cum, warm, white and perfect. He fucks you through his orgasm, more cum leaking out of his cock and finally pulls out, seeing your combined releases dripping down your thighs. He takes his phone out of the inside pocket of his tux and takes a picture of your cum stuffed cunt. This one needs to be memorised forever. 

When Heeseung pulls out, he helps you stand up straight again. He pulls you against his chest and kisses you again, tasting himself on your tongue. He’s not done with you yet; he needs to be inside your pussy one last time. 

It becomes Sunghoon’s job to film. 

You’re straddling Heeseung’s lap, his cock buried inside you. You’re bouncing on him, your tits freed from the dress. Sunghoon is mesmerised by you, by the way you sound, by the way your tits look like this. You’re ethereal, you’re perfect, you’re everything he has ever wanted. He grows hard watching you again, and eventually you turn around, reverse-cowgirling Heeseung while choking on Sunghoon’s cock. Both men can’t believe what they are about to lose. This, just you and them and this room forever, that would be a thousand times better than walking down the aisle with your sisters. 

Sunghoon films you deepthroating his big cock, films the way you suck on his tip, how your fucked out face is stained with make-up. He almost dies and comes alive again when your eyes look into the camera, desperate and lustful and simply the sexiest thing Sunghoon has ever seen. He thrusts up, his cock sliding down your throat with ease, and a small wave of spit rolls down his balls. Your hands are held behind your back by Heesung, who uses them to hold you down, fucking into your tight heat like a madman.

“Feel so fucking good, such a perfect pussy, made for our cocks, baby, your pussy is ours, just fucking ours.”

Heeseung knows it’s not fair and it's not true, not really at least, but right now he feels like it is. Like this is the future the three of you should be living, not the one that’s about to happen to them.

The three of you can’t stop. All of you are insatiable. It doesn’t matter how many times they pump their cum in you, doesn’t matter how many times you come around their cocks, you keep on switching positions, making out with Sunghoon while Heeseung fucks you from behind, sitting on Heeseung’s face while Sunghoon has his cock buried between your tits, having them both fuck you one after the other, shooting their little loads onto your ass simultaneously.

It is only when they manage to get both their cocks into your spent pussy, just when they start to completely lose themselves in you, their cocks rubbing against each other as well as your perfect walls, trying to thrust at the same time and failing, but still making you feel like you have never experienced pleasure quite like this, when they go feral and their hands are all over you, teasing your nipples, rubbing your abused clit, only then, when they come inside you with maybe four seconds apart, filling your already full pussy with their seed and pushing you over the edge once more, giving you the most ground breaking orgasm - only then are the three of you satisfied enough to let it go. 

You’re lying between the two men, your dress discarded long ago, their trousers and suit jackets as well, the white dress shirts hanging unbuttoned from their bodies. You allow yourself to feel happy, if only for a few seconds. A few moments of happiness with those two men you can’t have. Who you want to have so badly. It’s crazy, and it’s stupid, and it’s so, so wrong, but you think you love them. You think you’re in love. But you swallow it down because, one, you don’t even really know them and two, it’s probably just the six orgasms that make you feel this way.

It is another knock on the door that makes you flinch.

“Guys? The wedding starts in half an hour, are you good to go?”

And then the bubble bursts, and you feel yourself being ripped back into reality. 

-

It was almost a miracle you had made it down in time. Rushing back to your room and putting on a fresh pair of underwear, redoing your make-up and covering up the hickeys Sunghoon left on your neck had almost caused you to be late. 

Your sister looks like she’s about to rip out all of your hair, not just because of you almost missing your cue, but also because of how you look. This certainly is not what she had in mind when picking out that dress for you. If it weren’t her wedding day, she’d let all her fury rain down on you. Instead, she watches how you grab Jake’s arm, giving him a small smile through pressed lips. 

Jake’s eyes swim with worry, you find, and it does not make this situation any easier. He leads you down the aisle, and you hope to all the gods no one can see what is going on inside of you. Heeseung and Sunghooon are already there, standing in all their glory, with their tuxes looking clean and sharp as ever, flies tied and hair styled. All traces of the last one and a half hours are gone from their bodies. 

You part from Jake, who stands next to the two grooms, and while you wish you could simply ignore them, you can’t. Your eyes meet theirs, one at a time, and it pains you to realise the two of them are just as unhappy with the situation as you. Not that there is anything to change this. Sure, you could object, but your sisters would never forgive you, and neither would the rest of your family. And what for? For two men whom you knew almost nothing about? 

You have to be real with yourself. Heeseung and Sunghoon are nothing to you; they should be nothing to you. Knowing what they taste like, how their lips feel on your skin - all of that does not permit you to delude yourself. As much as you thought it to be true during the hours of sex you’ve had with them, this isn’t love. This will never be love. 

So, you stay silent. 

So, you watch them get married to your horrible sisters. 

So, you end up crying in Jake’s arms when you’re drunk and sad and feel like the world is against you. 

And when you fly home the following day, you don’t even say goodbye. You just leave. And don’t look back. 

-

The Present

You shouldn’t have come. In fact, you should turn around right now and leave for good. Yet, your feet do not allow you to move; they seem to be glued to the floor. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon are walking over to you now, their presence almost too overwhelming for you. It had not occurred to you before that you missed them. Now it comes crashing down, all these feelings you had kept locked up in the back of your head. 

“You came.” Heeseung comes to a stop in front of you, Sunghoon right behind him. Jake, meanwhile, has reached the seating area where Jay is leaning against the soft cushions of the grey couch, watching the scene in front of them.

“I- I-I guess I did.” Your words come out with a stutter, and you feel heat creeping into your cheeks. 

“You didn’t join us for family dinner last week,” Sunghoon notes now, his hands buried in the pockets of his large coat. Obviously, you think, why would you ever want to join them for a family dinner?

“I had plans.” 

God, this was awkward. Awkward and painful, and still the worst idea you’ve had in months. The second worst idea after sleeping with two strangers in Italy six months ago. 

“You seem to have a lot of plans you deem more important than family,” Heeseung says, and you almost laugh at that. 

“And we are family?” You ask, raising your brows and bringing your straw to your lips, taking a sip. 

“On paper, yes, I would say so.” Sunghoon’s head is tilted to the side slightly, and you can see the amusement in his eyes. He thinks this is funny. Both of them do. Anger rises within you, and your jaw tightens, the coffee cup finally finding its way on top of the bar standing next to you. 

“Right. Paper says a lot of things. For example, the two of you are married, and yet I don’t see your wives anywhere.” You clasp your hands together in front of you, arms hanging down, and the two men share a quick gaze before looking at you again.

“Well, this was supposed to be a boys' trip. You know, before Jake invited you in hopes of getting into your pants.”

“Yo!” Jake yells from the seating area, and for a second after that, it falls silent. Then, Jay bursts out into genuine laughter. Your heart pounds quickly in your chest, and with every second that passes, the heaviness slowly fades. Jake joins in second, then it’s Heeseung and Sunghoon, who can’t stop laughing. Finally, you join in as well. 

Laughing helps to forget the sheer awkwardness of the situation, the weight this trip possibly holds. If you try, maybe you can pretend these two are really just part of your family and that you didn’t have a history with them. Jake and Jay seem to be fun guys, and if they are, who says Heeseung and Sunghoon can’t be, too? Perhaps you could come out of this trip with four new friends and happy memories. 

“Come, let’s sit,” it is Sunghoon who places his hand on the small of your back and leads you to Jay and Jake, where the former gets up to hug you as a greeting. 

Sunghoon and Heeseung, unbeknownst to you, tense at that. They had made explicit rules for this trip. When Jake had told them he invited you, the two of them wanted to kill and kiss him at the same time. Because what the fuck was he thinking, inviting you on that trip when he knew exactly what had happened between you? But also, what an absolutely perfect idea, considering it would just be the five of you, Linda and Liza on a girls' trip of their own that they obviously wouldn’t ever think of inviting you to.

They could have you again. Taste you again. At least act like you belonged to them for a whole five days. It almost seems too good to be true, and it probably is. After all, you have been avoiding them for half a year. Who’s to say you hadn’t moved on? Maybe you had met someone. But then, if you had… why would you ever come here?

Thankfully, Jay and Jake led the conversation, asking you questions about the last few months you hadn’t seen them. Or, well, Jay hadn’t seen you or talked to you, but Jake, on the other hand, had developed something like a friendship with you since the wedding. Crying in his arms had left a number on him, you figure. As much as you hate to admit it, Jake has been a great friend to you. You even met up several times, grabbing lunch or coffee or going to the movies. While you enjoyed your time with him immensely, you were not oblivious to the fact that he was very much attracted to you. You did not allow yourself to give in, no matter how much certain body parts of yours wanted to. He is a friend. A hot, attractive friend who could probably take your mind off things, but still. A friend was what you needed, nothing more.  

All of this happened kind of behind his friend’s back, though. Telling them about it was only necessary when he asked you to join them on this trip, a decision he made three drinks in on a night out with some friends from work. You were so sad about not going anywhere during your small little fall break, which just so happened to fall right on the days he and the boys had rented this great cabin in the mountains, whirlpool included. The question had slipped out, and your acceptance came quicker than anticipated. 

And now you were here, the five of you ready to get your stuff into the car you had to take to get to your location. 

Heeseung ended up being the driver, Sunghoon up front next to him, which left you in between Jay and Jake, who both share a look over your head. Oh, this was going to be an interesting ride. 

- The rules Heeseung and Sunghoon have put up are a joke. Well, not literally because obviously neither Heeseung nor Sunghoon want Jake or Jay to touch you. They are a joke because they are so ridiculous. You are your own person, and if you want to fuck either (or both) of them, who are Heeseung or Sunghoon to stop you? Not that the rules were communicated to you before this trip started, no, this is just a thing between the men on this trip. The four men who all want you, who would all push each other out of the way to spend just one night with you. 

At some point during the drive, the second hour of three and a half has barely started, and you ask for a blanket. You’re getting chilly, and the heater somehow doesn’t seem to work in the back of the car. 

“Here you go,” Jay puts the blanket over your, his and Jake’s lap and gives you a warm smile that you happily return. Heeseung and Sunghoon are caught up in a conversation at the front with the radio blasting some music that is barely audible in the back. 

“Thanks,” you get cosy underneath the blanket, your hands resting on top of it. The sun is slowly beginning to set, the sky turning orange and pink, and- is that a hand on your thigh? Or no - two hands on your thighs? You stiffen. 

"You know,” Jay leans forward just slightly, almost making it seem like he is talking to Jake over your head from an outsider’s perspective, but his voice is low enough for you to hear it loud and clear, “I might have some more ideas to warm you up, kitten.”

Your eyes widen, and your traitorous body reacts immediately. A shiver runs down your spine, and your core begins to throb pathetically. Slowly, you turn your head to look at him, but Jay shakes his head.

“Better look straight ahead, we don’t want anyone to wonder what’s going on back here, hm?” 

Another very stupid idea. And yet… your thighs part slightly, and Jay grins smugly. 

“Eager, I like it.”

The thing about Jay is, he’s not… that controlled, most of the time. He likes to think he is, likes to act like he is, but in truth, he’s just a big fat pervert. If it wasn’t for Jake keeping him grounded, you’d be naked on the backseat with your head in Jake’s lap and Jay’s in yours. Never had he wanted to taste someone as badly as you, not to mention touch you. He’s been obsessed with your tits ever since he laid eyes on you the first time, and he has this one photo of you taken at the wedding, your face contoured in a laugh, your body slightly leaned forward, your cleavage on full, perfect display, printed out and in his bedside table’s drawer, right next to the lube. It is safe to say the picture is stuck to the wood of the drawer by now. 

On your other side, Jake acts totally normal. Acts like this is just another friend-date at the movies. Just that during those, his hand wasn’t mere inches away from your cunt. He’s already rock-hard in his jeans. To be honest, he is always hard when he’s around you. Now, he licks over his lips and lets his hand move to the button and zipper of your pants, skillfully opening them as if he’s done that a thousand times before. Maybe he has - at some point, he stopped counting.

Your blood is boiling with desire. The blanket seems unnecessary at this point, considering you’re hot all over even before they have actually touched you. Somehow, and you’re not entirely sure how, you manage to lift your ass just long enough for both of them to pull your pants and panties down as much as they need to have access to your drenched folds. How convenient that the car comes with leather seats. 

“Fuck,” Jake breathes out, not loud enough for Jay to hear, but loud and clear to you. You’re positively drenched, your slick already coating his fingers the second he touches you. His curse causes your pussy to clench around nothing.

Jay is more eager than Jake; he moves his fingers to your entrance immediately, one finger teasing your hole for just a second before sinking in. It takes a lot of willpower for you not to moan. Now, Jay is in a trance. He wants to see you desperately, wants to see exactly how your pussy sucks his finger, but he knows he has to be patient. Has to remain calm, enjoy what he has right now. And so, he begins to fuck his finger into you slowly. Feels his cock harden with every drag along your walls. Fuck, how godly it must feel to get his dick in there, to feel you squeeze and clench, to have you come around his fat cock. 

Jake wants to kiss you so bad, but he obviously can’t, and so he doesn’t. His thumb meets your clit, and he begins to rub it in circles, your eyes fluttering closed while your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 

“Someone’s getting sleepy,” Jake says, his free hand bringing your head down to lean against his shoulder. You thank him silently by placing your hand on his thigh and squeezing it. The little sound he makes catches you by surprise and makes you clench hard around Jay’s finger. You wanna ask him to do it again, but you can’t, not if you want Sunghoon and Heeseung to remain as oblivious as they are right now. 

Without giving it any more thought, you let both your hands wander to the crotches of the men currently working on your pussy. It doesn’t take you long to get their cocks out and your hands wrapped around them, their erections already coated with a good amount of precum. 

It drives you crazy that you can’t see them, that you can’t take them into your mouth, spit on them, get fucked on them. And when Jake joins Jay by slipping his finger into you, you feel like you’re about to explode. They work in unison, or at least they try to. Their fingers rubbing against each other, both of them hitting your sweet spot either simultaneously or a few seconds apart, your cunt seemingly vibrating. 

Both Jake and Jay are close to losing their minds. Your hands work both their cocks perfectly, not too fast and not too slow, just the right amount for it not to be too obvious. Jay’s head is turned to his window, acting like he is asleep too, while he tries his hardest to stay silent. It is hard, though, considering the literal woman of his dreams is jerking him off while his finger is inside her, fucking her as good as he possibly can in the current situation. How badly he wants to arrive at the cabin and take you to his bedroom and fuck you stupid. 

A small whimper escapes you when you feel a thumb (at this point, you don’t know whose finger belongs to whom) press down on your clit once more, giving the bud the same attention your hole is getting. You're pulsating with pleasure, your forehead resting on Jake’s shoulder, teeth pressing down on your bottom lip. 

“We’re stopping for gas. Do you guys need anything?” Sunghoon’s voice is suddenly clear as day, and the three of you are quick to regain your posture. 

“Oh, uh, no, I’m good!” Jake quickly says, his arm still, and a pearl of sweat slowly running down his temple.

Neither of you noticed the car leaving the highway nor the car stopping. Panic runs through you, checking Sunghoon’s and Heeseung’s faces for any signs of knowing what is going on. But you come up empty. Heeseung just looks tired, and Sunghoon wears a small smile on his lips.

“What about you?” He asks you, and you hate your heart for skipping a beat.

“Uhm, a-a coke zero, perhaps?”

“Me too!” Jay chimes in, “and also some Twizzlers, oh, and Oreos if they have any!” He grins at Sunghoon, who rolls his eyes.

“Sure, be right back.” Sunghoon leaves the car.

“I’ll fill up the tank and then go piss, any of you need to go?” 

When you all shake your heads no, Heeseung follows Sunghoon outside and finally leaves the three of you alone. 

Silence falls over you, breaths laboured, tension thick as honey. Heeseung is still outside, pumping gas, and all you can think about is how you want Jay and Jake to pump something else. Preferably inside of you. 

“When he’s gone,” Jay breathes, “I’m gonna need your mouth on my cock, kitten.” 

You moan at his words.

“Continue to jerk me off, please, please, please, fuck,” Jake cries, and you immediately obey, jerking him off and revelling in the sounds he makes. His head falls back against the seat, and he allows himself to thrust up into your hand, more than happy that Heeseung’s car has tinted windows in the back. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at that,” he cries, and you stare at him, mesmerised. He’s so hot, so desperate, so much different than what you thought he’d be. His cock twitches in your hand, and just when Heeseung leaves to go find a toilet, you tear the blanket from his lap and sink on his cock with your mouth, just in time for his orgasm.

Jake moans your name, his free hand pushing your head down onto his cock, thrusting up into your throat as he comes, thick ropes of cum being skillfully swallowed by your experienced throat. 

“Yeah, fuck, fuck, fuck, swallow it, just like that, hmmm, good girl.” Jake splutters his words, his hips still thrusting up, fucking your throat through his orgasm. When he stops, Jay replaces Jake’s hand with his and pulls you up by your hair, crashing his lips into yours. He doesn’t care much about tasting Jake on your tongue, really; all he cares about is getting himself and you off as well. He’s quick to pull Jake’s finger out of you and replace it with another one of his, finger fucking you at full speed while Jake watches for any sign of the other two.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jay moans against your mouth, “I wanted you since the second I saw you. Looked like such a fucking cockslut, baby.”

Another whine escapes you, your hand back to jerking Jay off in rapid movements.

“Want you to come on my fingers, alright? Want you to say my name when I make you come, kitten.”

It’s done then. A done deal. Your orgasm comes crashing down, and while he licks over your neck, biting it after, you cry out his name once, twice and three times more, your pussy clenching over and over again, slick running down onto the leather seats. Jay fucks you through your orgasm, his lips back on yours, until he doesn’t anymore.

“Come on, get on my cock, I know how much you want it, kitten.”

Even though you felt it before, seeing Jay’s cock makes your mouth drop open. He’s huge. Bigger than any of the other three, that’s for sure. So, when he pushes you down and begins to fuck your throat, it takes a good few thrusts until he is safely buried to the hilt, his mouth hanging open as he watches you.

“Take it, kitten, I know how much you like choking on my fat cock,” Jay has lost all control over his words, over his movements. He follows his instinct, lets the primal side of him take over. Both hands are in your hair, pushing you down like you’re nothing but a little fucktoy. And right now, you are. You are here for his pleasure, for him to shoot his load into your pretty little mouth, down your perfectly tight throat.

“Shit, I see Sunghoon! Come on, hurry!” Jake’s eyes are wide with panic, and Jay groans, speeding up.

You press your tongue against his shaft, feeling the heavy veins against it, and you can’t help but feel another wave of pleasure run through your spent body. The last time you had come that hard had been six months ago with the two men currently missing from this car.

“Gonna cum down your pretty throat, have you swallow all of it, fuck, it’s so fucking hot how you choke on my cock, baby.”

Spit runs down his balls, and when you move your hand to grab and squeeze them lightly, you feel them tighten. 

“Fuck!” Jay’s load lands in your mouth just then, his hips failing to show you any mercy while he rides out his climax. Stars are dancing in front of his eyes, and only when Jake pulls you off his cock, does he regain composure. 

Not even five minutes later, Heeseung drives you back onto the freeway, and you actually fall asleep against Jake’s shoulder. 

-

Later, when you arrive at the cabin, and the boys are downstairs getting the barbecue ready, you stare at them through the enormous window in your assigned room, your arms wrapped around yourself. Your heart is beating heavily in your chest, each beat washing a new wave of nervousness through your veins. 

You shouldn’t have done that. In the car. With Jake and Jay. It had been a mistake, a stupid, stupid mistake. There was no chance in hell that Heeseung and Sunghoon hadn’t noticed. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, chewing on the already bruised skin. 

Right now, Heeseung is standing in front of the barbecue, the fire already burning hot. He had changed into a comfortable-looking grey jumper and dark brown slacks, his hair pushed back. You remember how the strands of it feel between your fingertips. Remember how his head looks between your legs. 

Sunghoon walks out now, carrying two plates filled with raw meat, placing them next to the barbecue. He and Heeseung talk, and Sunghoon laughs, pulling a hand through his hair. Heaven, they are unreal. It appears again - the feeling of sorrow, of indescribable sadness. You miss them. Miss them even though you have no right to. It’s silly, foolish and insane. 

“You might have the best view.” Jake’s voice makes you flinch, and you turn around, eyes a little wide. He stands leaning against your doorframe, watching you with a look that makes your body run hot and cold at the same time. 

“Oh, is that so?” Your throat suddenly feels bruised - like it has suddenly become difficult to speak. 

Jake’s hair is damp on top of his head, and he has also changed clothes. Washed out jeans, loosely buttoned light brown linen shirt. He looks clean, innocent. But you know better. 

He nods now, slowly and determined, legs beginning to move into the room. His hand softly push the door closed, and you swallow down the lump in your throat. 

“Yeah. Beautiful view of the mountains”, he scans your face, “and the heated pool and hottub, too.” 

When he comes to a halt in front of you, your whole body is tense. Your eyes shoot to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of Sunghoon and Heeseung downstairs - but Jake has a different idea. His hand grabs your chin, turning your head to look at him.

“Don’t go looking for them, darling. They are married men, and I’m right here.” His voice is deep, and his eyes bore into yours, his body heat mixing with yours. 

“Jake-,”

“I was patient with you, I was your friend, Y/N. All this time… all these months, all I wanted was for you to finally see me.” 

Your back hits the window, the glass cold against your skin. You whimper at the feeling as well as Jake’s gaze and touch, his fingers in stark contrast to the cold glass.

“And today in the car, you finally did. Who knew how easy it would be, hm?” His thumb caresses your cheek, and you feel your body reacting to him. It’s traitorous like that, a traitorous body with a mind that isn’t always fully yours. His touch burns deliciously, and when his thumb comes dangerously close to your mouth, the urge to suck on it almost outweighs the normal thoughts. Your core begins to throb at the memory of the backseat because no matter how guilty you feel now, it felt incredible in the moment. 

“You’re a whore, darling. A pretty, needy, little whore.” 

And then, he kisses you. Mouth hot on yours, tongue slipping into your warmth, tangling with yours. His free hand grabs your waist, fingers digging into your skin, and you gasp against him, your whole body melting under his touch. 

Five seconds in, you find the strength to gently push him away. Panic arises within you.

“What if they see us through the window?” You pant, and Jake groans, his lips latching onto your neck, both hands now wandering under your shirt, grabbing your tits.

“It’s mirrored glass, baby; they can’t see the inside from out there, no need to worry.” He says, roughly pushing your bra cups down, your nipples now between his thumb and forefinger. You cry out, head falling back against the glass.

“J-Jake!” Your fingers find the material of his shirt, curling into it all while his hands go mayhem on your tits. 

“Fuck, look at those perfect tits.” Jake pushes your shirt up, eyes feasting on the way your breasts look between his hands. He smirks to himself as he leans down, capturing one of your hard buds between his lips. Your moans spur him on, and he brings his left hand down, making quick work to slip between the waistband of your pants and into your panties. 

“You’re already fucking soaked.” He breathes against your nipple, and you whimper again, hands now in his hair, tugging at the strands. 

“N-Ngh!” You can’t help but chase his touch, hips shooting forward when his fingers rub against your folds, soaked in your juices only moments later. 

“God, fuck, I need to fuck that pussy right now.” 

He spins you around, a small yelp escaping you when your front presses against the glass, the coldness making your stiff nipples hurt. 

“O-Oh!” Your hands are right next to your head, cheek squeezed against the window like a silly cartoon. It’s not comfortable in the slightest, but something about it is extremely arousing. 

Jake shoves down your pants and panties in one go, his own cock already freed, and he drools at the sight of your glistening folds, his eyes about to fall out of his head. You are everything. You are perfect. In every way. No wonder Heeseung and Sunghoon didn’t wanna share you. Too fucking bad.

“Fucking hell, might just come the second I am inside that pretty pussy, baby.” He murmurs, jerking himself off a few times before finally aligning himself with your hole, free hand now on your waist, holding you in place as he rams his cock into you in one swift move. 

Whilst he doesn’t come right away, Jake is positive he has never been that close to climaxing this soon after entering a girl. Your pussy is tight, warm and perfect, feels like heaven on earth and squeezes him so fucking good he fears he’ll get addicted. With both his hands now on your waist, he throws his head back and fucks into you hard and fast. 

Your moans are high-pitched and uncontrolled; the angle in which he fucks you is about to make you come in record time. Your body gets pushed against the window over and over, your tits sticking against the glass just like your face. Your eyes roll back into your skull, drool dripping down your chin at how good Jake fucks you. Not a single thought is left in your brain - not when his cock hits your sweet spot over and over. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, take it, fucking take my cock, yeah, just like this, fuck- been waiting- so f-fucking long, shit, your pussy- it’s so fucking good, oh my god.”

Jake is sure he is about to lose his mind. Lose his mind and give it to you, give everything to you. Right now, if you asked for a million bucks, he would gladly Venmo them to you. 

“J-Jake, mhhh, f-fuck me so good, ‘m s-so close!” You cry out, more moans escaping your abused throat. His ego is fuelled. 

“Yeah? Like the way I fuck you, my pretty little whore? How badly do you want my cum, hm? Want me to fill you up? Breed you like the slut you are, yeah?”

It’s like he is in a you-shaped trance, his eyes opening and head falling forward to look at the way your pussy takes his cock over and over. He brings his hand down, slapping your right ass cheek, and you let out a semi-scream, nodding your head against the glass.

“W-want your cum so bad, Jakey! Please fill me up!” 

Jake sees red. Sees red and then white and finally all the stars in the universe when he feels your pussy squeeze around his cock over and over - you’re coming around his cock, and he’s about to fill you to the brim. 

When he comes, he comes hard, and you milk him for all he’s got. Your climax hits you just a few seconds before, your body shaking against Jake, your mouth hanging open wide while you let him fuck you through it, and finally, pump you full with his hot cum you’ve been craving so much. 

“Fucking hell, that was insane.” His cock slips out of you, and he stares at the mess running down your thighs, his cock twitching at the sight. Slowly, you get up, back aching when you do and turn around, facing him. Your cheeks burn, your eyes can’t meet his, and Jake smugly grins, his hand finding your cheek again.

“Getting shy now, yeah? How cute.” He leans down and kisses your lips, softly, catching you off guard. He lingers there for a bit - his lips pressed against yours, and your eyes widen a bit in shock. You had kind of expected him to leave right away, make sure no one found out he was here with you. 

But no. Jake cares for you, getting a washcloth from the ensuite bathroom, gently sitting you down on the bed and washing his and your remains of your legs. He looks up at you then, a shy red blooming on his cheeks.

“Well, uh, sorry about the sudden… intrusion.” He chuckles nervously and scratches his head. “I really just, well, waited very long and while I didn’t expect it to… go this way, I kind of… did.” It warms your heart a little. How nervous he suddenly is - so much like the Jake you know, the Jake you’ve kept so close to your heart these past six months. You put your hand on his cheek, softly caressing his skin and smile.

“It was only a matter of time.” The smile that grows on Jake’s face makes your tummy rumble. Quickly, you clear your throat and take your hand away from his face, looking over to the window where you could see very clear markings of… what you had just been up to. 

After Jake says his goodbyes with a last toothy smile, you quickly walk into the bathroom, firstly to pee and secondly to look for any kind of cleaning supplies. And, hurray, you find a window cleaner underneath the sink and a few rags you carefully wet in the sink before walking back into the bedroom.

Spraying the cleaner onto the glass, you look down into the garden, feeling a bit relieved when neither Heeseung nor Sunghoon are to be seen. Just in case Jake hadn’t been right about the window being mirrored on the outside. 

-

Dinner goes by smoothly. The men at the table are holding the conversation while you happily eat the perfectly grilled meat. Jay had been the one to cook the rest of the food - stew and side dishes, a perfect omelette laid on the table and the most mouth-watering fried chicken you had ever seen before. 

“I didn’t peg you for a cook, Jay.” You give the man sitting to your right a grin, and he laughs, shrugging slightly.

“Well, there is much about me you don’t know.” His response, as nonchalant as it may seem, somehow makes the hairs on your arms stand up. Someone should study the effect these four men have on you, really.

Heeseung and Sunghoon are quiet; the former sitting at the head of the table, Sunghoon to his right and Jake to his left. While you take up the other spot at the head, you don‘t feel like you and Heeseung are at all equals - something that excites and scares you all the same. There is no way to know what Heeseung and Sunghoon are thinking, if they have caught on or if they’re fully in the dark. 

A part of you hopes they know - hopes they figured out what happened in the car and in your bedroom. It‘s stupid, but you truly wish for them to know that you can and will fuck other men. They haven‘t fully ruined you (they have - you haven’t slept with anyone since leaving Italy… until now), they don’t have a say over who you get with. You are your own person and make your own choices. 

Or at least that’s what you want to believe.

Dinner is over soon, and you find yourself in the kitchen, helping Jay clean up. He looks weirdly domestic - rubber gloves on as he scrubs the pan, his eyes trained on the steel, carefully cleaning. You smile at the sight, putting the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher.

“You’re also one of those people who don’t like to put their pans in the dishwasher, hm?” 

Jay looks up, his eyes meeting yours. The small grin on his lips makes your heart flip.

“Only insane people put pans in the dishwasher.” He says, and you laugh, grabbing a dishwasher pod to put it inside and turn on the dishwasher next. You feel Jay’s eyes on you, feel his gaze tickle your neck. The others are in the living room, just one door away. You once again wonder if Heeseung and Sunghoon have any idea about what’s happening right underneath their noses. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you grab one of the kitchen cloths from its hanger off the wall, wiping your hands.

A presence behind you makes you almost drop it again.

“You know,” Jay’s voice is quiet and controlled, his hands caging you in, settling on the edge of the kitchen counter, “I am a little hurt you let Jake fuck you first, princess.” 

Your eyes widen, and you try to turn around, but Jay moves even closer, basically trapping you. No chance to escape.

“I get it, he was your friend over the past months… but you do realise he only did that so he could fuck you, right?” 

More heat rises, but now it also spreads through the rest of you. Your fingers curl around the cloth in your hand, stomach tightening. 

“That’s- that’s not true.” 

Jay chuckles behind you, his breath hitting your neck. You hate that it makes you shiver as much as you love it.

“Aren’t you cute, darling? I wonder…,” his fingers brush your hair over your shoulder, your neck now bare, his lips dangerously close to it, “I wonder how you feel, how tight you are.” 

When his lips touch your neck, you can’t stop the pathetic whimper running up your throat. It is truly baffling to you - how these men have this effect on you. How one second you’re just going on about your day, and then, suddenly, one of them has you in the palm of his hand. 

“J-Jay, the others are-,”

“I won’t do anything, don’t worry. Not now.” He kisses your neck again, bites it slightly, and you gasp, thighs pressing together. “But maybe later. I bet you look so pretty when you’re asleep…,” his lips graze along your neckline, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and causing shudders to run down your spine most deliciously. 

Then, his words hit you. When you’re asleep?

“Asleep?” You whisper back, finally able to move your head to the side, glancing at him over your shoulder. His eyes are dark, and the smirk on his lips is smug.

“Yes, asleep. Would you like that, pet? If I fucked you while you slept?” 

Holy shit. You swallow hard. Then, slowly, you nod. Jay brings one of his hands to your chin, cupping it.

“Words, kitten. Use your words.” He orders quietly, eyes never leaving yours. 

“Y-yes, I w-would like that.” 

Jay smirks wider, thumb stroking over your bottom lip.

“Fucking hell, you’re perfect, aren’t you? I just knew you’re an obedient little whore the moment I laid eyes on you.” 

By now, you’re dripping into your panties. Pathetically dripping into your panties that have been ruined by Jake, not even three hours ago. Your head is spinning. Everything is too much and yet not enough - you crave them, crave their attention, their touch. 

“Bet you’re so wet for me right now, aren’t you?” Jay licks his lips, eyes falling to yours. “Don’t wait up for me, pet. I wanna have my way with you, yeah?” He lets go of you, going back to cleaning the pan as if he hadn’t just given you the promise to fulfil one of your unexplored fantasies. When he starts humming a tune, you gather yourself and leave, cheeks hot and mind full of anticipation. 

Jay is restless. The boys won’t go to sleep. Another round of FIFA, another round of Rocket League. He’s about to lose it. He can’t risk Heeseung or Sunghoon (or both) hearing him sneak into your room, can’t risk them hearing him fucking you. Because that’s what he’s going to do, and he can’t wait. His mind is racing with you, you, you. How you felt against him earlier, how your breath got stuck in your throat when he asked if he could fuck you while you slept. God, he was never as happy as when he realised you were into it as much as he was. 

But the boys are still playing, and he’s still pretending like he’s not half hard and in desperate need for this night to end. 

Only after Jake completely smokes Heeseung in that last Rocket League match does the oldest of the group announce his departure for bed. Sunghoon is quick to follow, bidding Jake and Jay goodnight and going upstairs. 

Jay’s heart is racing. How long until they’re asleep? His mouth goes dry, hands begin to sweat. He looks over at Jake, who’s turning off the PS5 and putting the controllers back inside the cabinet underneath the massive TV. He contemplates telling Jake about what he’s going to do, but he figures his best friend already knows. Or at least has a hunch. 

“Good games, bud. See you tomorrow!” Jay pats Jake on the shoulder, giving him a winning grin. Jake turns around, raising an eyebrow as a smirk grows on his lips.

“Yeah, good night.” The glint in his eyes is clear: he knows exactly what Jay is up to. And he can’t wait to hear everything about it. 

You’re fast asleep. Even with the knowledge of what’s going to happen, you didn’t win against exhaustion. Sweet dreams fill your mind as your body is peacefully sleeping, the blanket draped over you. A flimsy nightgown is the only thing you’re wearing to bed tonight. No underwear. Easily accessible. You’ve even prepared yourself a little before falling asleep, using your fingers to stretch you out, heart beating like a drum in your chest as you imagine Jay having his way with you while you’re dreaming of him. 

The clock strikes quarter past two when your door creaks open. You do not stir. Jay smirks as he closes the door behind him, a predatory gaze running over your body. This is his moment. What he’s been waiting for since the day he first laid eyes on you in Italy. He locks the door, just in case. 

And then he floats over to you. Slow but measured steps, eyes on you the whole time. He’s wearing only his favourite pair of sweats and nothing else, cock already hardening at the thought of what he’s about to do. 

Oh, you look so sweet. So delicate in that ridiculous nightgown. A smirk grows on his lips as he dips down, knees hitting the soft mattress as his fingers shove away your blanket completely. He can’t help the primal growl in his throat when he realises you’re not wearing any underwear. No underwear and your tits basically falling out of the neckline… his hand already sneaks underneath his waistband, grabbing his cock. 

He jerks off as he watches you. Eyes glued to your bare tits and thighs, wondering what both would feel like around his dick. Jesus, if he could, he’d just fuck all of your body parts all night and cover you in his seed. He’s convinced you’d love that. 

Jay knows he could take his time with you. Perhaps he even should. Taste you, use his fingers to open you up (after all, he’s well aware of his size (to his friends’ dismay)) - but he can’t. Not when you look like this, not when he’s about to burst when he hasn’t even touched you yet. All patience leaves his mind, betrays the part of him that wants to stay here for hours. 

Slowly, he moves down, his hands pushing you further onto your side. His eyes hungrily watch your body, sliding down to your pussy, a low groan escaping his throat. “Fuck,” he whispers, licking over his lip. Jay shoves down his sweats now, his impressive length freed and ready. Licking his lips, the man moves down, kneeling over your body. Softly, he grabs your legs, spreading them further and moving your body to his favour. Your ass is slightly up now, your pussy shimmering in the light catching from the moon outside. “Fuck yeah…”, Jay mumbles under his breath, holding you up with one hand, while the other lets his fingers glide through your slit, sucking in air.

You feel perfect. He already noticed back in the car. Nothing compared to you. To how willing you are, to how tight you are. To how much he knows you want this. You are his perfect wet dream, the one woman he has been searching for all his life. Made to be fucked. Loved to be fucked. 

He shoves one finger inside your awaiting hole now, groaning lowly again when he feels your tightness around him. Perhaps he reached heaven. And he can’t wait to get his cock in you. His eyes flick up to your face, still fast asleep, your mouth hanging open slightly. His cock twitches. He was about to ruin you. Quickly, he adds another finger, pushing them in and out of your cunt over and over, precum dripping onto the bed as he waits to finally enter you.

The sounds your pussy makes, getting finger-fucked by his skilled hand, it truly is almost too much to handle for Jay. His erection starts to hurt from how hard he is, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward for some friction. He realises he can’t wait any longer. If he does, he might just cum untouched. 

Pulling his fingers out of you, he immediately brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean. His eyes roll back at your taste and scent, the way everything about you is just perfect, making him almost mad. Taking his cock into his hand now, he shuffles closer to your body, back to holding you up as he aligns his throbbing length with your entrance. 

The first inch already feels like paradise. He moans, grabbing your hip harder. The more he sinks into you, the more he feels the need to fuck you senseless. Your body is still limp from sleep, your pussy taking him like a champ. This is everything he ever wanted and so much more. Once he bottoms out, he can’t help the guttural groan, both his hands now grabbing your hips, thumbs digging into your hipbones as he does his first thrust. 

“Fucking hell…,” Jay throws his head back, beginning to thrust slowly and deeply, biting his lip as he suppresses his loud noises. 

You, meanwhile, don’t stir awake just yet. Your mind takes what's happening to you and turns it into a dream, a dream in which you’re getting fucked hard by Jay, against the kitchen counter. Basically, what almost happened earlier that day, when he promised to fuck you in your sleep. You whimper then, fueling Jay’s need even more. 

Jay can’t help himself anymore. His hips begin to move faster, harder. He watches his cock fuck in and out of you, his breath ragged and knuckles white. You feel… insane. So insane he thinks maybe he’s the one asleep. “God… fucking take it, you slut…”, he groans and bites down on his lip, forgetting his own name, where he lives and what day of the week it is.  The sound of his groan, the hard pace he sets… it makes your body jolt awake, deep running pleasure making you moan, pussy convulsing around Jay’s thick cock. 

"Oh, mhmmm!” you cry out, eyes barely open as they begin to roll back into your skull, your back arching. 

“Would you look at that? Did my little kitten wake up?” Jay smirks, pulling your body up against his chest now, hands moving to your tits, grabbing them harshly as he puts even more strength into his thrusts.

“F-Fuck! J-Jay!” you stutter out, stars spinning around your head as he fucks you into oblivion. Your hands grab his on your breasts, moans coming out of your mouth steadily. There is nothing else you can do. He has fucked you awake and will now fuck you asleep again, or so it feels like. Like he’s never gonna be satisfied, like he wants to fuck you until either of you passes out. 

“That pussy is so fucking tight, baby, can’t believe I haven’t fucked you back in Italy… fucking hell.” He groans into your ear, and you whine again, all words and coherent thoughts having left your brain. You can’t tell him that Heeseung and Seunghoon would rather have died than share you with anyone else. And maybe you don’t want to say to him either. 

Jay pushes you back down, your face falling into the pillows as he continues to pound into you like his life depends on it. His cock hits you just right, the force of his thrusts making your whole body shake. How is everyone in this house so fucking good at, well, fucking?

"Squeeze me right, baby, come on. You wanna cum for me so bad, don't you?"

It's true, you are mere seconds away from a mind-shattering orgasm. Moaning into the pillow, drool coating the soft sheets, your pussy does as he tells you, squeezing around him over and over as he fucks his cock against your sweet spot over and over.

The orgasm is hard and wild, making you scream his name, muffled by the pillow. Jay smirks, slapping your ass hard.

"Good girl, good little whore. Come on my cock, come on." He slaps you again, enjoying the way you feel around him as your climax prolongs. His eyes scan your frame in the darkness of the room, his hands still gripping your tits as he fucks you through your high. And once it's done, once he feels your body slowly starting to limp, he pulls out of you only to flip you over and come all over your perfect tits. He roars your name as he jerks himself off furiously, his big hand around his big cock, making you whine and your pussy throb exhaustedly. Shit. He's so hot.

"Fuuuuuck, yes, look at those perfect tits all covered in cum." Jay smirks, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweats that he discarded on the floor. You watch him with a heaving chest, his eyes glued to his screen as he licks his lips. The flash goes off as he takes a couple of pictures, grinning proudly after.

"These will be what I jerk off for the rest of my fucking life." He says, and you laugh, biting your lip.

"Glad to be of service." You reply, and now Jay laughs, grabbing his sweats and sliding back into them. His phone goes back into his pocket, and he leans over you to turn on the light on the bedside table.

"Let's get you cleaned up, kitten."

The first three days of the trip went by quickly. Jake and Jay had their way with you whenever they could, whenever they were sure neither Heeseung nor Sunghoon were paying you any attention. Quickies in the shower, in the whirlpool at night. Giving them head during a day trip in dirty bathroom stalls.

It truly was your own naivety to think this would all go unnoticed, that Heeseung and Sunghoon were just oblivious to the things you did with their best friends.

And it was about to bite you in the ass.

On the fourth day, you woke up without Jake or Jay pressed to your body, wanting entrance. Blinking awake, you push back the covers and stretch your arms over your head, yawning. Glancing at your phone, you tap the screen and see it's already past ten am. Woops. Yawning again, you finally step out of bed, slipping into the fluffy slippers given to you at the start of the trip.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, you move out of your room and into the quiet house. Raising your brows, you slowly move to the stairs, your ears perking up, but nothing. No sounds are coming from anywhere. It's as if you're alone. You have the mind to feel an ounce of worry as you walk down the stairs now, your hand gliding along the railing as the worry mixes with some sort of… fear.

The living space is empty as well, and your stomach turns when you see no traces of the night before. No plates in the sink to rinse off, no beer bottles on the kitchen island. Chewing on your bottom lip, you stand in the kitchen for just a short moment before sprinting back upstairs, your heart about to jump out of your chest.

Your fear becomes reality when you push open the first door and find Jay's room empty, the bed neatly made, and one window open to let in some air—no sign of the man or his things. You walk into his bathroom, which you also find spotless, not even a hair to be found in the sink.

Jake's room is next, and it's the same thing. No clothes, no toiletries, as if he were never here. Swallowing hard, you pull your morning robe closer around your body, an eerie feeling sinking in your stomach. Slowly, you turn back around, walking down the stairs once more, your heartbeat speeding up when you spot Sunghoon and Heeseung sitting at the breakfast table.

Their eyes meet yours, and your skin erupts in goosebumps. Something is wrong, really wrong. And when you reach the last step, it almost seems silly you hadn't realised it sooner.

They knew. About Jake and Jay and you. About what you did with them.

"Sleep well?" Heeseung asks, his dark eyes focused on your face, his own unreadable. With slow steps, you walk closer to him and Sunghoon, your hands sweaty and your heart still beating fast.

"Where are they?" You ask quietly, and judging by the way both of them grimace, that was the wrong thing to say.

"You've been bad, Y/N. So, so very bad." Sunghoon says, his head slightly tilted to the side. "Letting them touch you… fuck you, even, thinking we wouldn't notice." He clicks his tongue before scoffing slightly. "Did you really think we wouldn't fucking notice?"

Cold creeps through your veins. For a few seconds, you're not sure what to say. How to react. Yeah, did you really think they wouldn't? Did you sleep with Jake and Jay while their best friends were in the same house, truly believing they would never figure it out? Overhear you? You swallow hard, your hands gripping the front of your robe.

"I-", you start, but there aren't any words you can say. Mainly because you don't even know what the truth is.

Heeseung's jaw tightens, and you watch as he slowly gets up, his gaze still fixed on you.

"We had a deal with them, you know. You were allowed to come on the trip because Jake begged us. According to him, you were still so upset that you needed a break from everything. In all honesty, I'm not too sure why he thought it would be a good idea to bring you on a trip with us, but whatever. We agreed because we felt responsible. Because we are responsible." With every word, he walked a little closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was nothing you could do but listen to him whilst holding your breath.

"We had a deal with them, Y/N. You could come on the trip, but they weren't to touch you." His words made your eyebrows twitch. What?

"They weren't to touch you unless you wanted them to, which Sunghoon and I agreed you wouldn't." Now, Sunghoon got up too, walking over to you and Heeseung, your breath still stuck in your throat.

"But you wanted them to, didn't you? Let them touch you, the first second an opportunity presented itself." Sunghoon now chimed in, his eyes filled with emotion - anger, hurt, jealousy.

"They told us they'd try to get you to let them touch you on the ride here, and Sunghoon and I were foolish enough to believe you'd never do that, not with us in the car, not with us right fucking there." Heeseung's hand moved upwards slowly, tucking one strand of your hair behind your ear.

"How silly of us to think that way." Sunghoon found his way behind you, his breath on your neck. You swallowed again, the lump in your throat big and round. Fuck.

"So, it was fair game. You wanted them. They got to have you, got to taste you just a few rooms down from us. They took what is ours." Heeseung's hand cupped your cheek at the same time as you felt Sunghoon's touch on your shoulders.

"Yours?" You breathed out, suddenly so aware of them and their words. "I'm not yours."

"You're not?" Sunghoon whispered into your ear, causing your skin to tingle.

"No." You replied, your chest heaving. Heeseung's thumb stroked your cheek, his eyes boring into yours. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach tighten, and your core heat up.

"See, that's where you're wrong, baby. You are ours. You've been ours from the second you eavesdropped at that restaurant in Italy. It doesn't matter that we are married to other women; you are the only one we want. The only one that gives us what we need." His lips brush against your jaw, and you suck in a breath. Sunghoon moves his hands, sliding your robe off your frame, leaving you in nothing but your short silk nightdress. It barely covers anything, your ass basically on show, and your tits spilling out of it. Heeseung's eyes flick to your cleavage. And electricity shoots through your core when he sucks in a breath before letting it out in a breathy groan.

"You belong to us, princess. You know you do." Sunghoon kisses down your neck now, and you can't stop your head from tilting to the side, giving him better access. In all honesty, you don't know if you know that. What you do know is that this shouldn't feel as good as it does, that you should shove them off and get yourself back home.

But you don't move, not to run away, not to do the right thing. Or what moral says the right thing would be.

Heeseung lets his hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer against him, your chest hitting his, and you can't help the whimper when you feel his hard cock press against your stomach. The smirk on his face makes your knees weak.

"There she is, our perfect, perfect whore."

His lips crush into yours the next second, and your eyes flutter shut, your own hands now landing on his shoulders as you kiss him back, letting his tongue drag along yours. Fuck, you almost forgot how good he kisses…

Sunghoon's hands wander to your ass now, shoving up your nightdress and showing him every inch of your perfect ass, his cock rock hard against it as he presses forward.

"You were such a naughty girl, fucking our best friends." Heeseung bites down on your bottom lip, and you cry out, the pain making you drip into your panties. "Do you agree, baby? Were you a naughty girl?"

You whimper as you nod, right back under their spell. Heeseung smirks, then looks at Sunghoon over your shoulder. They nod, and you yelp when you find yourself bent over the table the next second. The wood is cold underneath you, and your aching nipples rub against the silk of your nightdress deliciously. A moan escapes you, a moan so sweet and intoxicating it makes both of your men even harder in their slacks.

"Good girl." Heeseung caresses your ass. "But your past actions still need to be punished, don't you agree?"

Another nod and whimper combo from you. Heeseung smirks at Sunghoon.

"Glad we're on the same page there, princess." Sunghoon licks his lips, moving so he stands right behind you.

"We're gonna spank you four times. We want you to count out loud, understood?"

"Y-yes, understood." You pant, the excitement over what's to come making you ache with need.

The first spank comes from Sunghoon, his hand meeting your bare asscheek, and you moan and cry out in pleasure, your thighs pressing together.

"Spread your legs, baby. Come on." Heeseung orders, and you do as he says, biting your lip.

Then, the next spank comes, Heeseung's hand slapping down on your other cheek, and you gasp as your nails scratch against the wood of the table.

"Fuck, she truly is loving this," Sunghoon mutters, his free hand sliding into his pants, rubbing his hard cock over his boxers. He realises again how much he missed you, how much he craved you. As crazy as it might seem, he knew you were it. It for him. It for Heeseung.

His hand came back down on your ass, and you moaned again, your pussy dripping wet and your breath shallow.

"You're doing so well for us, princess." Sunghoon praised, taking his hand from your ass so Heeseung could give you the last, hard spank.

When it comes, you are close to falling apart already, your voice full of need as you cry out a last time.

"Well done, baby." Heeseung purrs, his hand soothing your red cheeks. "But your punishment isn't over yet." His words make you shiver, arousal spreading down your spine. "We're gonna take turns with you now, baby. Gonna fuck you hard, just the way you like it. Reminding you who fucks you best."

He kisses your cheek as he leans over you, but there is no softness in it, just pure possession. You nod, biting your lip.

Sunghoon moves then, pulling your panties down, having them pool at your ankles. Both of them take off their pants and briefs, freeing their aching cocks. Heeseung nods at Sunghoon, who takes his place behind you. One hand fists his cock while the other grabs your hip hard enough to bruise. You love how rough he is, love the feeling of pain mixed with pleasure, your cheeks still stinging from the spanking they gave you.

"Get ready, princess." Sunghoon growls, right before he pushes his cock against your entrance, the feeling of your wetness making him regret ever putting his hand on his wife. The stretch is delicious, making you arch your back immediately. He dives in fully, bottoming out and cursing under his breath when he feels your tight walls clamp down on his cock.

"Fuck, I missed this pussy so fucking much." He breathes, both of his hands now grabbing your hips. His first thrust already makes the table move over the floor a bit, a lewd moan escaping your throat. Sunghoon feels like he's on fire. His hips move ruthlessly against you, his fingers digging into your skin, leaving marks he wants to tattoo on you. No other men should touch you like this, just him and Heeseung.

"Take it, princess. I know you love this cock." He grunts, his cock hitting you right where you need it the most. Your sounds become more and more high-pitched, your nails scratching along the table.

"Oh fuck, Sunghoon, don't stop!" You scream out, knowing your orgasm is imminent. Sunghoon's hand rises just to fly down again, spanking your sore cheek and making you cry out in pain and pleasure just the same.

"Such a good whore. Taking her punishment like a champ." He smirks, continuing to fuck into you at a rapid speed. You feel like heaven and hell combined, like sin and salvation. He knows that once he's filled you up with his seed, once he has claimed you again, he can never let you go again. Damn the consequences. He needs you.

Feeling his balls tighten, his cock swelling inside you, he grunts, throwing his head back.

"Come on, princess. Milk my cock with that perfect pussy."

His words take you over the edge, making you scream his name as you come hard around him, your pussy clamping on him even tighter, bringing him to ecstasy as well. Sunghoon cums inside you, his seed filling you to the brim. He moans your name and squeezes your hips harshly, riding out both of your orgasms before pulling out.

There is no time for you to come down from your high - not when Heeseung steps up just then, fucking his cock into you right away. You scream, your pussy feeling even fuller.

"Oh fuck!" You moan, looking over your shoulder at Heeseung. What you see makes your pussy throb and your eyes widen. His gaze is locked on you, his eyes full of possessive need. He wants to claim you just as much as Sunghoon. You can't help the deep moan coming up as he fucks you so hard, the desk moves several inches over the floor.

"Bad girls get fucked like whores." Heeseung smirks, slapping your ass twice before grabbing your hair and pulling you up against his chest. You cry out, the angle making him fuck you even deeper. His hips move like pistons, his grunts in your ear making you squeeze around him. He kisses your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin, leaving marks he knows won't go away for days. Just the thought of other people seeing the purple hikeys on you makes him fuck you harder. If it were up to him, he'd scream it from the rooftops that you're his. That you've been his for months now. And even though you hadn't been together, you had always been on his mind.

"Heeseung." You moan when you feel another orgasm closing in on you. He licks over the mark he just left on your shoulder.

"Who do you belong to?" He asks in a low voice, his hands grabbing your hips harder. You cry out, swallowing hard.

"You- b-both of you!" You whimper, and Heeseung smirks.

"That's right, baby. You belong to us. And you're gonna come again, aren't you? You like getting fucked hard like this?"

You nod rapidly, your mouth hanging open as you let Heeseung do to you whatever he wants. It doesn't matter anyway - all he does to you feels amazing. It's like he knows you inside out, and perhaps he does. Perhaps both of them know you better than you had ever let yourself believe.

"Then come for me, baby. Show me how good this pussy feels around me when you cream all over it."

Just like Sunghoon before, Heeseung gets you to climax with his words, your body shaking with pleasure as you scream out, hands gripping the edges of the desk as your pussy spasms around him, causing him to curse filthily under his breath.

He spills inside of you then, his cum joining Sunghoon's inside you, filling you up just the way you like it. He growls as he fucks you through it and finally pulls out, only to shove three of his fingers inside you to make sure his and Sunghoon's cum stays where it belongs.

The hot chocolate you drink in the armchair standing on the terrace, a few hours later, as you're wrapped in a blanket, heats you just right. Sunghoon and Heeseung are sitting in their own chairs beside you, their hands in your lap, caressing your thighs. Innocently. For now.

After your punishment, Heeseung carried you to his ensuite bathroom, Sunghoon on his heel. The three of you had stood under the water together, your lips never not kissed by one of them. And it had felt… good. Like everything was in its rightful place. Like you were in your rightful place. Beside them.

Now, with your hair dry and the sun slowly setting, the three of you had gotten something warm to drink before coming out here. The unspoken words hang in the air, even though they had been touched on earlier. You take a sip from your cup, the sweetness coating your tongue.

"We should probably address the elephant in the room." Heeseung shifts on his seat, his eyes flicking from Sunghoon to you. Both of you look at him, and you put your cup on the small table in front of the chairs, turning to look at him.

"And what's that?" You ask, a small smile playing on your lips. Heeseung looks at you for a few seconds before the corner of his mouth twitches.

"You said you belong to us." He tilts his head, and his eyes sparkle with something you can only describe as playful honesty. Your face reddens.

"I did say that." You bite your lip. "Even though it was a bit of a… particular situation."

Sunghoon and Heeseung chuckle, both of them now grabbing one of your hands.

"Y/N." Sunghoon says with a slightly scolding tone. A small grin appears on your lips.

"Fine. Yes. I said that. And I meant it. I do belong to you, but…" There was no need for you to finish that sentence. Sunghoon and Heeseung shared a gaze, and when Heeseung nodded, Sunghoon brought your hand to his lips. He held your hand with his left one, and it took you a couple of seconds before you caught a glimpse of… nothing on his ring finger. Your eyes widened. Then your head snapped to Heeseung, who also kissed your hand now, holding it with his left. It was empty. Just like Sunghoon's. Your breath got stuck in your throat.

"We should have never married them. Not after we met you. After we realised what and who you were." Heeseung said.

"Heeseung and I have shared many girls before. But none of them were you, Y/N. None of them made us feel like you did. And we believe that… no one could ever come close." Sunghoon added, his eyes so full of honesty that it made your stomach drop, and butterflies erupt within it.

"We were too blinded by responsibility, by the need to give our parents what they want. But once we met you, once we knew what you meant to us, we realised we couldn't go on like this." Heeseung swallows. "We wore our rings on the day you arrived to see your reaction. To see if you'd still be hurt by it or if maybe you'd moved on."

"The truth is, we filed for divorce the day before coming on the trip. Even if you didn't want us still, it just didn't feel right to stay with your sisters. Not when we don't want them. Not when we want someone else." Sunghoon's fingers intertwined with yours, and your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

They filed for divorce? How did you not know? How did no one tell you? But then again, you were always the last one to find anything out.

"When we get back to the city, we want to do this. We want to give this a try. You and us. Would you… Would you like that?" Heeseung looked actually nervous, and you almost laughed. Six months of pining, of hating yourself for wanting them, for missing them, for knowing they were rightfully yours, and stuck in the hands of women so undeserving of them. As insane as it sounded, they truly were who you needed. Both of them. From one week of passion, of words that didn't need to be spoken. Your bodies had done that for you. All you need is this. Is them and you, and the prospect of being together. Who cares about norms?

Instead of answering Heeseung (who began to look nervous, considering you still hadn't answered), you leap forward and kiss him. Kiss him with the force of all the feelings you hid away for the past six months. Your fingers curl around Sunghoon's as Heeseung kisses you back, smiling against your lips. When you part from him, you give him your happiest smile before turning around to kiss Sunghoon as well. His hand finds your cheek, cupping it softly, as he licks into your mouth against your tongue. You can't help the moan when you feel Heeseung's lips on your neck. The energy shifts immediately, and you suck on Sunghoon's bottom lip, loving the sound he lets out against your mouth.

"You're perfect, baby. The perfect girl for us." Heeseung whispers into your ear, and you shiver. Shit, it should be studied how quickly these men get you to fold for them. Your hands wander to each of their napes, kissing Sunghoon deeper, letting him dominate your mouth and shivering at Heeseung's lips tracing the marks they left on your neck earlier.

Soon, you find yourself on your hands and knees on the armchair, Heeseung behind you as Sunghoon kneels on his chair, his sweats and briefs shoved down as you lick over his tip eagerly, looking up at him with hungry eyes.

"Our perfect whore," he mumbles, his hand tangling in your hair, "come on, suck my cock like you want to. If you do a good job, I might fuck your throat, princess."

You smirk up at him, eager to please him and quickly move to take him into your mouth. He curses, gripping your hair tighter as he watches the way your lips stretch around his cock, how determined you are to get all of him in that pretty mouth of yours. His eyes turn glossy as he can't stop staring at the way you devour his cock, his shaft almost fully captured by you once you swallow him down.

"Holy fuck, Y/N." He curses, not able to stop his hips from thrusting forward.

Heeseung watches, half amused, half aroused, his hands grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them slightly apart to take a good look at your soaked pussy. The sound coming out of him doesn't sound human, and he can't take it any longer. He pumps his large cock a few times before getting it where he needs it, pushing into your tight heat.

You moan around Sunghoon's cock, the vibrations making him suck in a breath.

Then, Heeseung begins to move, fucking you deep and hard, the movements making you gag on Sunghoon's cock.

"Fuck, you suck cock like a fucking pornstar, princess, holy shit." Sunghoon grips your head with both hands now. "You deserve that rough throat fucking you so desperately need." He smirks with mischief in his eyes, and your own fill with desire and tears as he immediately begins to fuck down your throat in time with Heeseung.

It's like back then and even better. Because now they fully are yours. Because now you don't have to worry about anyone finding out. It doesn't matter anyway. You don't care about your sisters. Hells, you don't even care about your parents. They had never stood up for you when your sisters bullied you. Had only told you to try and understand - after all, your sisters had never wanted another sibling. How fucking encouraging of them.

But now it didn't matter. Now, these two men were yours, and they were fucking you rough and dirty and so perfectly that it almost felt too good to be true. It was true, though. And you don't think you have ever been happier.

Your eyes roll back, gagging around Sunghoon's cock while Heeseung destroys your pussy. They grunt and moan, treating you like you're there for their own desires and nothing else, and the feeling is so exhilarating, you feel like passing out.

"Fucking take it, baby, take my cock and cum on it." Heeseung growls, slapping your ass, and your pussy squeezes him tight as you near your orgasm. Sunghoon moans your name, his head tipping back as he closes in on his own climax.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good. Such a good fucking toy, such a perfect little whore."

Sunghoon's words shoot straight to your core and and you topple over the edge just when Heeseung slips one of his hands around you, pressing his thumb on your clit. You come hard, and Heeseung smirks, fucking you even harder as you convulse around his cock.

"Good fucking girl, coming so prettily for us." He praises you, and you whimper, Sunghoon and Heeseung sharing a look, not backing down on you now. They pick up speed one last time, showing no mercy as they chase their own release.

Your body screams in pain and pleasure and overstimulation, awaiting their loads with desperate need.

Sunghoon is the first to break, pulling out of your mouth to come all over your exposed tits, making you cry out, your cheeks stained with tears from the hard, perfect throat fucking.

Heeseung follows suit, emptying his seed into your pussy, squeezing your ass as he does, growling animalistically, rutting against you like a madman, before collapsing on your back, breathing hard.

"Fuck. I can definitely get used to this." Sunghoon grins, shoving his fingers into the cum on your tits only to bring it to your mouth and have you suck it clean. You obey (of course), and he bites his lip.

"Good girl." He purrs, and you giggle once his fingers leave your mouth.

The three of you get back inside shortly after, Heeseung moving to prepare dinner while you go upstairs to use the bathroom and clean yourself up a little. All of this was almost too good to be true, but for the first time in your life, you just allowed yourself to believe. Not to question when the bubble would burst.

Going back into your room, you grab your phone from the nightstand, raising your brows in surprise when you see a few texts from Jake.

[01:34 pm]: I'm sorry… I really wanted to say goodbye

[01:35 pm]: Maybe we can meet up when you're back…? If you're even staying.

[03:54 pm]: Jay just told me his dad got a call from Heeseung's father. They filed for divorce? Both of them? Did you know?

[04:13 pm]: You're gonna be with them now, aren't you?

You bite your lip, feeling slightly guilty. Sitting down on your bed, you think about what you should say. His words echo in your head, what he said about them being married and him being right there. It's not hard to guess that things went beyond friendship for him. But then there was also Jay, who had claimed Jake only befriended you to get in your pants.

Sighing, you decide to call him.

He picks up after the third ring.

"Y/N, hey." He breathes into the phone.

"Hi, Jake." You swallow and lie down on your back, looking up at the ceiling. The line stays silent for a while as you try to find words to say.

Jake clears his throat. "You… It's okay, you know. I understand. You don't have to feel bad or anything."

And yet you still do. You sigh and pull a hand through your hair.

"I never meant to lead you on, Jake."

"You didn't. Truly, Y/N. Nothing you did ever made me think there was more for you," he pauses, "well, yes, we had sex and all that, but only an idiot would deny that there is this certain… energy between the three of you. I'm not gonna delude myself into thinking I can compete with that."

You press your lips together, allowing yourself to feel relieved over Jake being so understanding.

"I'm still sorry for hurting you. You are a good friend, Jake. I hope we can stay that way."

Jake chuckles.

"Yeah, well, let's see if your boyfriends even let me anywhere near you again." He says and while he sounds lighthearted, you both know he's not wrong.

After you hang up, you turn your head to the side and see Sunghoon leaning against your doorframe. He smiles at you.

"Come on, dinner is almost ready." He holds out his hand, and you smile back at him as you get up from the bed and intertwine your fingers with his.

-

3 months later

The restaurant is full of people, and you can't help but feel nervous about it. Whilst you have gone out with Sunghoon and Heeseung before, it was never so… central. So close to where your family's social circles met up.

The three of you sit at a pretty table right by the window that overlooks the city. The wine is delicious, and the food must have been sent from heaven, and yet you can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.

Sunghoon grasps your hand over the table, giving it a soft squeeze.

"You okay, princess?" He asks, and you nod, taking another sip from your wine. He exchanges a look with Heeseung.

"Don't lie to us, baby, or do you want to get punished when we get back home?" Heeseung raises his brows at you. The thought of them punishing you makes you shift in your seat. Great, let's add horny to the mix of emotions currently residing within you.

"It's just… we still haven't told my family about us. I'm just worried. What if we run into them here and-" You stop midsentence, ice sweeping through your veins. Fuck. Linda and Liza are walking into the restaurant right that second, with two handsome men on their heels. Sunghoon and Heeseung turn to where your eyes are glued, tensing when they spot their exes. The divorces have not yet been finalised, as there is still a lot to discuss, but their lawyers say it's only a matter of weeks now.

"Shit." Heeseung curses, looking back at you. But your gaze still follows your awful sisters and their dates. Your heart is beating fast, and you wonder if you should go up to them. If you should tell them you stole their husbands. That they belong to you now.

But you decide to stay seated. You decide to be the adult those two have never been a day in their life. Decide against the humiliation they wouldn't have hesitated to bring upon you. All the times they've decided to hate you, to make you feel small, rush through your head as you make a choice. Neither of them is worth your anxiety, your energy. They are no one to you. They chose to be no one to you, with all of the bullying they've subjected you to your whole life. So what would be the point? Getting up and flaunting your boyfriends at them? What would that gain you? Satisfaction? Maybe. But is that what you want? You don't think so. Or no, you know so. They are nothing to you. And they don't deserve to be any more than a fleeting thought inside your mind.

You take a deep breath and relax.

"Should we get dessert?" You ask the two men you love, and they share a glance before looking at you.

"But you're already the sweetest thing," Heeseung says with a smirk. You laugh and shake your head at him.

"Whatever you like, darling," Sunghoon says as he gives you a warm smile and decides to ignore Heeseung's cheesiness.

As Heeseung seizes your hand and Sunghoon waves the waiter over to get the menu, you smile to yourself.

You've got all the family you need right here. And that is all that matters.

Wind howls and beats against windows. Frost creeps mockingly up the window, framing the witless whip of flakes outside. An unexpected blizzard is brewing, leaving the residents of Seoul to prepare for a wonderful white Christmas. Kai presses his cheek into the freezing pane—hoping, praying, that it might ease the raging fire beneath his skin.

This heat had been building all morning, fanning out from his gut to his limbs and lips until the fever finally set in. Huening wasn’t an idiot, he knew the signs of an oncoming rut. He knew too it was very likely in response to your own noticeable pre-heat symptoms. At this point, this routine was a familiar one between you. You took your suppressants and planned to spend the day lounging around in wait for the heat to finally break. Everything would’ve been totally fine if you hadn’t taken that stupid call.

It was two days before Christmas, you had promised to fully set work aside and enjoy the holiday in full. Kai knew it wasn’t intentional. Truly, not even a worker as dedicated as yourself would go into the office during a holiday break,especially not one knee-deep in pre-heat hormones. But you were too worried about the seriousness of being called and the fear of letting a colleague down, you waved off Huening’s attempts to make you stay. It’d only be an hour, you said, you’d be back before he knew it. Then, you rushed out the door.

It was now nearing 3 hours since you had left. You had texted about an hour ago profusely apologizing for your tardiness and promising you were finally on the way home. By then, the warmth in his stomach had grown unignorable and has only gotten worse since. The desperation was clearly mutual as your texts became jumbled and worrisome—trying to fight through the snow-laden traffic of the city. Kai could only wait, growing harder and hotter with every moment you failed to walk through the front door.

A comforting chill rushes through Huening for a fleeting moment, but is soon lost. A muffled whimper echoes across the empty living room as a fresh wave of heat wracks his body. Kai falls away from the window, sinking into the carpet. Torn between reliving some of this pressure for himself or waiting for your return, a stray hand dips below his waistband.

The air fills with his longing and ache, groans tumbling from chest with the brush of a thumb up a vein. Huening’s mind is fogged with images of you. You; walking through the door, reeking of the same desperation as him. You; spread out on the mattress, the couch, the floor, your knees—any where he can have you. You; needy for him and only him, and just as much as he is for you.

Golden fur beats rhythmically into his thighs. His tail speeds as pleasure twists tighter in his gut. Unrestrained groans flood his ear which flatten atop his head. His wrist twists faster and faster, up and down; with his eyes closed, he can almost feel that it's your hand instead of his. Your fist stretched around his cock—smaller than his own—always struggling to take in his size; but he knows the way your mouth waters every time you see it. He knows how much you love the height he has on you, how hot it gets you, how quickly you cum when he uses it to his advantage. How you whine and choke every time he stretches you out, like, somehow, you're still surprised by just how big he is. Still, you always take him so well, so desperately. You let him ruin you and ruin him in return, dumbing each other down to your bare instincts, the base need for one another. Kai could swear you’re made for each other. Your body, made to be held against his, loved by him, touched by him, deconstructed by him alone.

Kai cums with a rattling moan. For the first time today, the heat recedes, if only for a short moment. However, a creak from the foyer pulls Huening right back into the aching need of his body. It’s you. You’re home, and your scent is surging into the hallway—hot and heady. Kai meets your eyes from the floor, his chest raising rapidly with the aftershocks of his orgasm. You appear almost as disheveled and out of breath. Snow blankets your, clearly windswept, hair and clothes. Two soft, brown, ears pressed down on your head to match the embarrassed pout stretching across your face. Kai could almost laugh at how silly you look if he wasn’t so desperate to have you beneath him.

Silence fills the blank space between you. Palpable need crackles in the air. Your eyes trail down from him, catching on the heavy bulge poking through his stained sweatpants. Kai notices your lithe tail swishing as your pupils stretch to take him in.

Before either of you can say a word, Huening is up and pushing you against the wall. His lips burn your skin greater than the heat you’ve been quelling all afternoon. Fire burns at your fingertips as they dance over his arms and trail up to his fluffy hair. A heavenly groan graces his tongue when you offer a light tug.

“Ah–Angel…” He pulls away, leveling a darkening stare at you. “You are never allowed to leave me like this again!”

Your giggle is abruptly cut off by Kai’s lips once again—bruising and heavy. His tongue eagerly pushes past your lips and pushes up against your own. He tugs off your coat and pulls on your shirt, while walking you away from the front door. Your heat-addled brain lets him maneuver you as he pleases while you attempt to meld your chest into his. When your knees hit the arm of the couch Kai painfully pulls away again. Your eyes meet his—blown out with lust and an indistinguishable need.

“Puppy?”

Kai’s tail picks up obnoxious speed, cute blond ears twitching. You catch his heart beat pick up, pumping harder in his chest. Beyond that, the only response he offers is a gentle push to your chest. He leans you back—tongue swiping at his lips like a hungry animal—until your back is arched over the couch’s arm. That keeps your hips up in the air—right where Kai wants them. He pulls your bottoms off in one swift tug and wastes no time getting his mouth on you. Licking one long stripe up your heat, he can’t suppress a shuttering moan. His tongue laves vigorously over your slicked folds, prodding at your slit and molding into your hips. His nose bumps into your nerves as he drinks you up like a man dying of thirst. His lips travel back up, encircling your clit with a slow suck. Teeth graze the glans and Kai’s tongue rushes in to sooth the vague sting.

Two palms meet the back of your thighs. Fingers dig into the plush, squish and knead the skin until Kai is practically suffocating himself between them. Pain sparks from his white-knuckle grip and the deepening press of your thighs to your chest. Your knees nearly touch your shoulders. You keen and groan, the stretch burns into your stomach alongside the heat of Kai’s mouth running over your skin. He nips at your thighs and lavishes licks over the growing bruises. 

“Kai!” You shoot out your hand searching for something to ground you, hold you, anything. On their journey, your fingers find a neat purchase near the downy fur of Huening’s ears. Shock ripples through his body at the touch; electricity spiking down his spine and straight to his dick.

“Fu-fuck—Kitty, I-I really need you. Need to fuck you, please.”

“Yes! Yes, Kai—please, need you.”

Suddenly, your stomach is pressing into the couch. The faint sound of shuffling rings behind you but then Hueningkai’s lips are reattaching themselves to you at your neck and his tip is rubbing between your thighs. It catches on your entrance and then your clit. A breath sticks in your throat and melts into a moan. Your hips buck back, tail swiping over the covered skin of Kai’s stomach. His breath stutters at the brush of cloth. A hand moves between you, finally placing Kai’s leaking cock at your entrance. 

With a strained thrust, he eases into you, barely holding back the need to pick up a rapid pace. You’re so wet and tight, practically pulling him. You’ve spent all day aching for him—needing him just like this— the push of your hips back into his is almost involuntary. The sound that leaves Kai is just the same, a filthy little whimper he muffles into your shoulder. His hips move to meet yours and bottom out. Your moans ring out in unison.

Kai moves with a delirious pace, thrusting fast and erratic; pushing deep with every stroke. You claw at the couch cushions as each thrust rocks you forward over the arm. Heat and sweat and pleasure stir within your skin. Stretched so thin and filled so full, all thought is fucked right from your mind, replaced with the divine essence of Kai invading your every sense. His chest pressing down on your back—caging you in. His furry ears tickling your neck as he litters kisses over every inch of bare skin he can—breath scattering in their wake. His honey-sweet sounds dripping from his lips into yours—bathing you in his fervent desire.

“Kitty! Ngh—Ah–fuck, Angel…’s so good.” His fingers scramble for grasp around your hips, fingers digging into the flesh. He takes a handful of your ass with a slight slap that leaves you mewling. From the full round of your cheek, Huening’s hand trails up to the base of your tail. 

A gentle stroke of the skin is enough to send obscenities tumbling freely from your drooling lips. “Fuck! Hyuka–Hyuka, please! Please, puppy–ngh–wanna cum!”

With his free arm around your stomach, Kai yanks your back up to meet his front—hips simultaneously speeding up. It only takes a second before his tongue is broken through your lips. The air fills with the filth of wet, slapping skin and your incoherent begging. The stretch of this position is toe-curling. Kai’s fingers stay right on that sensitive spot, petting graciously as want peaks in your gut.

“So close—Y/n, Kitty–haah–cum for me.” More lithe fingers inch down your pelvis, painting circles on your clit. “Aah–Wan–Need to feel it. Please–Ah!”

Two sharp canines sink into the junction of your throat muffling a throat rattling groan. A sharp, deep thrust sends Kai over the edge. The heat of his cum spilling into you sends your orgasm crashing down as well. White explodes over your eyes and your ears ring with far-off moans. Your hips ache and burn, every hair on your body feels like an exposed nerve. The same ecstasy fogging your eyes blankets your head. The world goes dark beyond your body. You can feel Huening gives one last jerky thrust before settling inside, panting into your skin. You can feel the subtle ballooning of his knot catching on your walls, keeping you happily stretched and stuck to his length. You can’t tell if your eyes are closed or they’ve simply blacked out, but the rest of your limbs have fallen limp in Kai’s hold. 

When your vision finally clears, you’ve been maneuvered onto the couch proper, tucked into Hueningkai’s arms. Your once raging heat has subsided, at least for a while, but your energy is completely drained. Kai rubs light circles over your stomach and nudges pecks across your neck. Still tucked inside you, he keeps you warm and comfortable as sleep edges into your body. Teetering on the edge of a wonderful nap, a hum by your shoulder pulls your mind back up by a thread.

There’s a teasing frown playing on Huening’s face as he speaks, “You’re not leaving me again until the new year.”

“Ha! How about I just never leave. Ever again.” You mumble back.

You had found yourself in this same situation many times before, though most of those times, you only did it because it felt like something you should do — some kind of ritual you had to perform just to prove, once again, that you had failed.

The first few times, Joshua stood by your side in the bathroom, his hopeful smile assuring you that this time would be different. But after twelve negative tests, he stopped. You couldn’t really blame him; it was hard to keep hoping when the answer was always no.

So the bathroom had become an all-too-familiar place. Your movements, peeing on the stick, setting a timer, waiting on the toilet, were mechanical.

Never before, though, had you taken a test so certain that you were pregnant. The morning sickness, the sudden sensitivity to smells, the swelling of your breasts, those were all clear indicators. You weren’t entirely sure how you knew, but you did. The test was only a formality, a confirmation.

Well, maybe you did know how. You’d made a deal with the demon king — and slept with an incubus more times than you could count. Of course you were pregnant. It would be strange if you weren’t. Jeonghan didn’t strike you as the kind of guy — or rather, demon — who didn’t keep his promises.

You couldn’t remember the details of your deal, but one thing was certain: you were going to have a baby.

The alarm on your phone went off, signaling that five minutes had passed. You took a deep breath and blindly reached for the test on the sink.

The word pregnant was printed in bold black letters.

“Okay.”

You never really expected to be back at the doctor’s office again, at least, not to see a gynecologist for a pregnancy. The feeling of waiting was odd, the tests in your bag felt heavy on your lap.

Ever since you found out about the baby two days ago, your heart had been constantly in your throat, as if something could go wrong at any moment. It had become hard to fall asleep, your mind too busy running wild, making up crazy scenarios about how it was all just a dream, how you’d wake up in a pool of your own blood, how there was, in fact, no baby at all, and you’d simply been so desperate that your mind had conjured a phantom pregnancy.

Enough was enough. You forced yourself to call your doctor and beg for an emergency appointment. It had been over two years since you’d last seen him — two years since you disappeared without a word. You had simply quit. There was only so much pain one person could endure before they finally forced themselves to stop.

“You said it was an emergency appointment,” Minghao said, looking at you with a small smile.

Your doctor had always been kind. His eyes were gentle, and his patience, endless. He’d explained the same things to you over and over again, never losing that calm tone.

“Sorry, I know how busy you are,” you said, sitting down across from him.

Minghao just shook his head, that same reassuring smile still on his face. You wondered if he knew why you were there—if he had any idea at all.

Once upon a time, he had exhausted every possible option. He’d guided you through every step, offered comfort when Joshua stopped coming to appointments after yet another failed attempt. Eventually, your visits had turned into long talks. he’d ask how you were holding up, if there was anything else he could do for you, insisting that you seek help beyond him, beyond a friendly ear willing to listen.

Then came the point when Joshua started to hint that you might be having an affair with your doctor, which, on its own, was bad enough. But given the circumstances, it was unbearable. You were falling apart, still hoping for a child, and instead you got accusations.

“It’s fine,” Minghao said softly. “What can I help you with today?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” he blinked at you, studying your face as if you’d suddenly grown three eyes and a pair of horns.

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know I was the problem,” you said quickly, “but I’m telling you the truth. Look.”

You reached into your purse and pulled out a small plastic bag containing all thirteen pregnancy tests you’d taken, each one of them positive.

“Wow. Okay.”

“See? Emergency.”

He let out a breath and smiled faintly. 

“Alright then. Let’s get you tested.”

Minghao had been so curious about the test results that he’d made you wait while your blood was analyzed and, to be even more certain, he wanted an ultrasound done.

The entire process had been nerve-wracking: having your blood drawn, sitting in the too-white waiting room, your heart pounding against your ribs. You’d spent years working toward having a child, and the thought of being a single mother didn’t scare you. Still, there was this small, hollow ache in your chest.

It was so embarrassingly human of you, to finally have something you’d wanted with all your being, something you’d gone to great lengths to achieve, and yet still crave more.

The more you have, the more you’ll want, your grandmother used to say. For the longest time, you thought you were immune to that. You’d always been good at accepting things as they were.

But now, you realized the problem wasn’t having a child on your own—that had been your choice. Divorcing Joshua hadn’t changed that. All the no’s and closed doors had simply become part of life.

What caught you off guard was wanting to go through it all with Seungcheol by your side. That hadn’t been part of the plan.

A month with him, that was all you had. Thirty days that somehow felt like a lifetime. He had been the curveball, the unexpected turn in a life you thought you’d finally understand. You couldn’t help but wonder if Jeonghan had known this would happen when he sent Seungcheol your way. Could he see the future, too?

“Does Joshua know?” Minghao asked, stepping back into the room.

You shook your head. 

“It’s someone else’s. Joshua and I divorced last year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s been a long time. It’s okay now.”

And it truly was. It had taken you a while to accept that your marriage was over, long before either of you ever said the word divorce. The loneliness had lingered for a time, but even that had faded eventually.

“For now, everything seems normal,” Minghao said, scanning the chart in his hands. “But I want to have weekly appointments, okay? This was a hard pregnancy to come by, that alone is reason enough for caution. But the fact that you’re pregnant with twins…” he paused, meeting your eyes. “There might be complications. I don’t want to take any chances with you.”

Twins.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise, though it was still surreal. After years of struggling to get pregnant, suddenly, bam, not just one, but two babies. But twins ran deep in your family: your mother was a twin, her mother too, your siblings, and even your sister’s children.

And now, you were going to have twins.

“My womb is not exactly baby-friendly,” you said with a small laugh.

Minghao gave you a sad smile, half tempted to scold you but choosing to stay silent.

“Set up an appointment for next week,” he said finally. “And don’t hesitate to call me if anything happens, okay?”

It took all of Seungcheol’s willpower not to simply cross the street and go to you. He hated the look of loss in your eyes, hated that he felt responsible for it, hated even more that he was the probable cause of it.

Seungcheol knew that he was in too deep, he had dived in without ever checking if he’d be able to get back to the surface again.

“Don’t you think you’re getting too attached to this woman?”

His job, if he could even call it that, was easy for him. He did what he was supposed to do and then left, never caring about the person he crossed paths with or how his presence would affect them. He did as he was told and left without a care in the world, as if it were just any other day.

He wished he could say that with you it was just like that, or even that the sex was so damn good that he needed to go back for seconds and thirds, as many times as he possibly could have you. But it wasn’t just that.

He knew, somehow, the moment he laid eyes on you that it was going to be too much, that he would have a problem. Even as his mind screamed at him to run away, he took a step closer to you, and that had been his gravest mistake.

One look at you was all it took for him to fall into a rabbit hole with no exit, one he didn’t intend to ever leave. Until he had to. Until he was forced to.

“I just want to make sure she’s really pregnant.”

It was pointless to try to lie, but the words still slipped out of his mouth.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes but didn’t try to stop Seungcheol from following you. If that was the closest he could possibly get to you, then that was what he would do.

“We both know the first night was more than enough. However, you still chose to go to her every night since. It’s been two months.”

He didn’t need to be told how long it had been.

The days he spent with you were some of the most normal days he’d ever had. He didn’t feel like an unloved child or someone a demon was raising just because he’d cut a deal with a greedy person. When he was with you, he felt normal. He was just a guy who went home to his girl after a day at work.

The whole thing was mundane, so ordinary. And he loved it. Every single second of it was precious to him. Every time you complained about your work or your siblings.

He remembered you dragging him into a phone store, picking one out for him while he stood there awkwardly under the stares of the employees.

“Seungcheol, come here,” you urged, motioning with your hand. “You have to pick a model and a color.”

He dragged his feet across the wooden floor, not really wanting to but unable to say no to you.

“I don’t understand why I need a phone,” he grumbled.

You rolled your eyes as if the answer couldn’t be more obvious.

“So we can talk if we need, or want to.”

“I can be there whenever you need or want me,” he said, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

You tilted your head to the side, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Should I call for you like kids call for Bloody Mary? Be in the bathroom, all scared?” you teased, shaking your head.

Seungcheol leaned down until his mouth was close to your ear.

“Preferably naked.”

You pushed him away, hitting his arm in the process, but Seungcheol saw you trying to hide a smile.

“Who’s going to pay for this?”

You simply rolled your eyes at him.

“That black card you have in your wallet.”

You chose to stay by his side, despite the strange looks from the salespeople. You never seemed to care about what others thought, you just did as you pleased, and Seungcheol loved that. When he was around humans, he always felt like he was being watched, but when he was with you, he simply was. He just existed by your side.

“She isn’t showing any signs yet, and she hasn’t taken a test.”

“Again, we both know she’s already pregnant.”

Seungcheol chose to ignore him. There was nothing Jeonghan could say that would make him go away. He was following the rules — as per Jeonghan’s wish and demand, he no longer had any contact with you — but he was never told that he couldn’t follow you around.

“This isn’t how we do things around here, Seungcheol. You know that very well.”

All he had was a small glimpse of your profile when you turned your head, startled by a drunk man shouting on the other side of the street.

Even from so far away, you looked like an entirely different person. He couldn’t help but wonder if the change he saw was caused by him. If it was, he hated himself for it.

Jeonghan sighed beside him, beyond done with Seungcheol’s nonsense.

“You want to hear me say it? Fine. I like her. There’s something about her that keeps drawing me in, and I can’t seem to stay away. I’ve tried, she’s pushed me away, and even so, I keep going back.”

That made Jeonghan laugh.

“I don’t think she’s pushed you away at all, considering how she still opens her door every time you knock, and her legs too.”

Seungcheol had to suppress the urge to punch Jeonghan. That was a fight he did not want to start. He wasn’t fond of losing, and Jeonghan could easily beat him.

He sighed and stood still, watching as you entered your office building. He stayed there for a few minutes, holding on to the lingering feeling of you still being near.

All that was left for him were his memories and imagination, nothing more than that. Every night, he went home to his empty apartment, wishing for nothing more than to go to you, or even to use the stupid phone you’d forced him to buy, just to hear your voice. He was left in a place of pure darkness, all alone.

For the first time, the dark made him uncomfortable.

“I thought you could do this without getting involved. Maybe I expected too much of you. Should I pay her a visit? Make sure she keeps her doors and windows locked at night?”

He turned around quickly, anger clear in his eyes, so clear that even Jeonghan, the demon king himself, was forced to take a step back. Not out of fear, but surprise.

Seungcheol had always had a temper and was quick to let it show, but never quite like that. This level of anger came from the desire to protect someone. To Jeonghan, it was like seeing someone he knew better than anyone suddenly revealed in a new light. He wasn’t sure he liked it, this new version of Seungcheol.

“You’ll do no such thing. I’ll stay away from her.” Then he added, his voice low, a threat they both knew Seungcheol wouldn’t be able to keep: “We’ll both stay away from her.”

Jeonghan turned around, adjusting the sleeve of his dress shirt.

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend you didn’t use that tone with me.”

You thought you saw him once, a few steps ahead of you on the way down to the subway. The bright red hair, the purple suit, everything was just right, from his height to the way he walked. Perfect.

It was him. There was no way it wasn’t. You were sure. You’d never get him wrong. Even in the sea of people at rush hour, you knew.

You called his name once, and the man froze. There was this sudden rush of emotions flowing through your body, everything you had managed to bottle up during the time he was gone. All the emotions you had stopped yourself from feeling for six weeks were right under the surface, boiling beneath your skin.

Once again, you called his name. But this time, the man didn’t seem all that bothered. His steps remained at the same pace, in perfect synchrony with the rest. You were the one trying to swim between people, trying to get closer to him, just enough so you could touch him, just enough so you’d know that he was still alive, out in the world but not by your side.

You were one step behind him, within arm’s reach, when someone bumped into you, making you trip over your own feet. You looked away from the redhead for just one second, one measly second, a blink of an eye. But it was enough. More than enough.

When you looked up again, he was already gone.

You stood in the middle of your sister's kitchen. Wonwoo, your brother — Nina’s twin — stood to her right, while Jihoon, her husband, stood to her left. All three of them looked at you, expectation clear in their eyes.

It’s not like you didn’t see them at all. You actually were in their company quite often, but they were usually the ones setting up the meeting. The last time you had asked to meet the three of them together was when you told them about your divorce.

“I want to tell you something, but you can’t freak out on me.”

Your sister rolled her eyes. She probably would have crossed her arms over her chest, if not for her round belly. Instead, she patted her stomach slowly, as if trying to calm the baby down.

“That’s a great way to make sure someone doesn’t freak out.”

“You have to promise,” you demanded.

Wonwoo just nodded. You knew he would never freak out like Nina, he was too kind and polite for that, but you could already imagine his eyes going wide. Still, he would stay silent; it would just be easy to spot the wheels turning in his head.

“Fine, okay!” Nina raised her hand and rolled her eyes again.

You knew it was a lie, but that would have to be enough.

“You too, Jihoon.” He had stayed quiet, as he usually did, watching the entire exchange.

Perhaps Jihoon was the first one to notice that something had happened to you, that something had changed. But he didn’t want to pry and ask, and he certainly didn’t tell his wife something was wrong, because the last thing she needed at that stage of her pregnancy was to worry. And Jihoon didn’t even know if something was wrong. Not every change has to be a bad one.

“I promise to try to hold her back if she does freak out,” he said.

“No one’s gonna freak out,” Wonwoo added.

“Okay, fine. Good enough.” You took a deep breath before finally saying, “I’m pregnant.”

You could hear dust falling, that’s how quiet the three of them had gotten. It was like they were frozen on the spot. Out of all the things you could have possibly said, that was the last one that could have ever crossed their minds.

Your sister was ready to hear about some sort of reconciliation with Joshua, which would have been met with petty words and maybe a few screams (and had it not been for the baby, maybe a few slaps too). Wonwoo wasn’t sure what to expect. He thought it had something to do with your job, maybe you needed to move away.

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” came from your sister.

“Did she just say that she’s pregnant?” from your brother.

“Say it one more time,” Jihoon asked.

After you found out about the pregnancy and got the confirmation from Minghao with the tests, you kept the news to yourself. You had gone through enough short-term pregnancies to keep your mouth shut until it was certain.

You knew that you were pregnant. You knew that it would stick, that probably the worst car crash in the world wouldn’t be enough to take your babies away from you. Still, deep down in your bones, there was the fear that it could end just as suddenly as it started. So you didn’t tell anyone anything.

Minghao still demanded to see you every week, running tests every chance he got. He became increasingly excited each week, the reassurance of the tests making him certain that this time, you’d happily deliver your babies.

You would have kept the news to yourself for another month, had it not been for the small bump that started to form. Soon enough, large shirts and dresses wouldn’t be enough to hide it, and you wanted your family to hear about it from you, not because someone saw you and told them.

“I’m pregnant.”

You took a couple of steps to the side, so there was nothing in front of your belly when you lifted your shirt up. Soon enough, a small bump was in full view for the three of them.

“Yeah, pretty sure she said pregnant,” Jihoon said, shaking his head slightly.

“How’s that possible?” Wonwoo was trying to make sense of it all.

“You and Joshua…?”

“Of course not Joshua,” you, Wonwoo, and Jihoon said at the same time.

Nina wasn’t dumb. She knew that you would never go back to Joshua. She had seen the way you looked at that guy at the wedding, and the way he looked at you. Those weren’t the looks of people who had just met. She saw the way he had looked at Joshua, too, as if killing him slowly with his eyes. But she also remembered how much you had loved him, and how broken you were when he left.

“It’s just me, actually.”

Your words were enough to confirm her suspicions that it was the guy from the wedding. She would have never imagined you two together, but somehow, it had made sense that night.

Wonwoo was the first to get closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” he asked against your head. “Is the baby okay?”

“Yeah.” You patted his back, welcoming his rare hug. “I’ve been going to the doctor weekly, ’cause, you know…”

“Yeah.”

“All three of us are fine.”

All hell broke loose at that sentence. Nina screamed, Jihoon did his best to calm her down, explaining that all that excitement wasn’t good for the baby, and Wonwoo held you at arm’s length, his hands on your shoulders.

“You’re having twins?”

Ever since you thought about having kids, there was this little voice in the back of your mind saying that if you ever got pregnant, you’d have twins. It ran in the family — and you knew you wouldn’t escape that heritage.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“I am! It’s just a little weird, I think. But I can do it on my own.”

“You know, that’s even better. Men are useless anyway.”

Your sister pulled away from Jihoon, laughing as she pushed Wonwoo aside and hugged you instead, struggling a little due to her big belly.

“I’m standing right here,” Jihoon said, his tone bored yet playful.

“You’re not alone, okay? We’re here for you,” Wonwoo said, coming to your other side and hugging both you and your sister.

“Yeah, whatever you need,” Jihoon added.

“I don’t want to make plans for now. I don’t want to get my hopes up just to be crushed again in the future.”

“That’s not going to happen,” your sister scolded you.

“It could.”

“It won’t. I’m certain of it.”

Perhaps the worst part of being left behind are the memories — tiny moments that don’t seem to fade away, no matter how much you try.

It would have been so easy to fall back into the same routine as before: to overwork yourself until your mind stopped bringing back memories and thoughts, until there was no trace of Seungcheol anywhere. But your siblings wouldn’t allow that. Your sister was constantly on your back about it, while Wonwoo was much quieter with his worries, though his calls came just as frequently as Nina’s.

There was no need to overwork yourself when there was already so much to do. Having one kid was a lot of work, you always knew that much, but two was so much more. All of your worries had doubled.

Still, the memories of Seungcheol lingered in your mind.

You had so much to do, so much to worry about, and yet he still managed to remain the center of your thoughts.

When you divorced Joshua, you saw it coming. In a way, you were ready for it. You were in bad shape because everything had piled up, him leaving, the constant letdowns. It all came crashing down at once.

And with Seungcheol, you knew he was going to leave, eventually. You knew it every night after the first one — the one that was supposed to be the only night. Each time he came back, you were one step closer to never seeing him again. And yet, he kept coming back, so you allowed yourself to imagine that he might stay.

That he would stay.

During the day, you’d get this tingling feeling in your chest, the anticipation of finally going home, because that meant you’d see him. And every time, it was a surprise: would he be waiting for you outside the office, or at home? Or would he only show up much later in the night? Whichever the case, he still showed up.

And then, suddenly, there was only silence.

You expected it, but it still hurt.

You couldn’t shake off the cold of the nights without him, how you’d reach for him in your sleep, only to wake up to an empty bed and the echo of loneliness.

You had postponed it long enough. There was only so much waiting one could do to start shopping for babies, and having two at once didn’t help. You kept waiting for something. For him.

It was silly. You knew he wasn’t going to come back — at least, not to you. It was simple and clear as day. And yet, you hoped, wished, and prayed. Nights were spent hugging a pillow that still, somehow, smelled like him. But there was only so much self-pity you’d allow yourself to drown in.

Your sister had offered to go with you, but you’d denied her time and time again. The decision wasn’t planned in advance. You were on your way home from work when you decided to make a detour to your favorite Chinese takeout. It was a mistake, because only a few stores away stood a huge baby store.

The truth was that you had avoided them like the plague, purposely going out of your way so you wouldn’t have to cross paths with any. Until it was right there in front of your eyes, huge and glowing in all its pastel shades.

You took a deep breath and went in, your heart hammering in your chest as you walked down the aisles. The perfect division of pink, blue, green, and yellow. Tiny dresses and tiaras. Bodysuits in all sizes and colors. Your heart swelled at the sight of the pastel walls filled with teddy bears. You had anticipated that moment for so long, a wish rooted so deep within your soul that you were willing to make a deal with a literal demon to see it fulfilled. And yet, somehow, you allowed yourself to sink back into self-pity once again.

You took another deep breath and approached the lady behind the counter.

“Hi,” you said in a low voice.

“Hi! How may I help you today?” she asked with a bright smile, making part of your nervousness dissipate.

“I need baby essentials,” you said with a small laugh, slightly embarrassed. “I’ve been delaying getting stuff.”

She clapped her hands loudly, attracting the attention of the other people in the store. Then she hid her smile behind her hand and bowed her head lightly in apology.

“You came to the right place! We have everything you might need. Do you know the babies’ sex yet?” she asked, turning her back to you as she started scanning the shelves, already deciding what to get first.

You shook your head. When you first imagined yourself having kids, you wanted it to be like it had been for your parents. They always said they never really wanted to know if they were having a boy or a girl. “I would be happy no matter what, so there was no point in finding out,” your mom once said. And since all of your births had been close together, having clothes that weren’t gender-specific meant both Wonwoo and Nina could share them.

“No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “But I’m going to need it all doubled.”

The seller gasped in excitement, both hands suddenly covering her mouth. You laughed, lightly caressing your overgrown belly.

“Oh, this is fantastic!”

It was only an hour later when you managed to get away from the counter to look over the stuffed toys and other things you thought you might need, or maybe just things you thought were cute and wanted to get.

For the longest time, you simply window-shopped, and now that you had the chance to finally get something, your mind was simply going blank.

The saleswoman stayed close by, not because she thought you might take something, but this time to help.

Every time you had more than two items in your hands, she’d politely ask if she could take them for you, the initial giddiness gone, taken over by professional smiles and quiet words.

The entire day was going well, bringing you happiness, making you remember all the reasons why you had even started the mess you currently found yourself in. Until Joshua.

Your head was down, looking over baby bottles, trying to decide which one you should take, or even if you should take any, considering that there were still a few months before you were due, and you wanted to read some more tips on what was best and most recommended for each case, when you heard your name being called.

Your eyes shot up at the mention of your name; the surprise in Joshua's eyes was evident.

Out of all the places in the world where you could have possibly met him, the baby store was the last one you could have ever imagined. Still, there you stood, separated only by a shelf and a finite amount of baby supplies.

Different from the time you saw him when you were working at your sister’s wedding, you didn't feel the need to hide from him, but you had no desire to talk to him. So you simply nodded, acknowledging him but not saying a word, before taking a step away from him.

"How have you been?" he asked.

"Good," was all you said, forcing out a smile.

You didn't want to be rude, but you also didn't want to talk to him.

"What brings you by?" he asked. You looked around the store, the answer was simple enough. There was no need for you to say it out loud. "Oh, is Nina pregnant again? Or maybe Wonwoo finally settled down?"

You shook your head, finally getting out from behind the shelf, your grown stomach on display for anyone to see. It was difficult getting clothes. Your belly grew so fast that you simply couldn't keep up, so most of your shirts and dresses did nothing to hide it. And, to be absolutely honest, you didn’t want to hide.

A look of pure shock found its way to Joshua's face, his skin turning pale. He couldn't comprehend what was happening in front of him. The main reason why the two of you got a divorce in the first place was because you couldn't bear children, and now there you stood, in front of him, clearly pregnant.

"How is that possible?" he whispered.

"I don't think I need to explain to you how babies are made. If I remember correctly, we gave it a fair shot."

You tried to walk past him. You had gotten more than you should have, and Wonwoo was probably close by. There was a chance things might've gotten out of hand if the two of them saw each other, and that was the last thing you wanted. Not because of Joshua, not at all, but because of yourself. Dr. Xu had advised that you stay as far away as possible from any sort of stress. A fight between your brother and your ex-husband would bring just that: stress.

"In this case, I believe you need to explain it to me, yes?" he said.

You simply rolled your eyes and tried to walk past him. Long gone was the time you felt the need to give him any sort of explanation about your life. It had been years since your marriage had ended, and it took a long, long time to finally let go. There was no reason for you to try and get back to the idea of him. Because, in the end, that was all Joshua was: an idea.

"You can't simply pretend that this isn't, at the very least, weird. I was there. I saw the test results. I watched over you after each miscarriage. This doesn't make any sense!"

His quiet and sweet voice had grown loud, attracting attention from the other customers in the store.

The last thing you wanted was for him to make a scene, to ruin what had been a perfect day.

"Listen, Joshua..."

There was no time for you to finish your sentence before you felt a presence by your side, and a second later, the weight of an arm being wrapped around your shoulders. Lips were pressed over your hair, lingering perhaps a bit longer than they should have. You already knew who it was before you even looked up.

His presence was all too familiar. It had been months since you last saw him, and yet it was as if he had never left to begin with. Your body simply adjusted to his, your free hand wrapping around his waist like it was meant to be there the entire time.

"I think you just couldn't shoot your shot, dude," Seungcheol said, his tone teasing. His voice traveled through your body, your skin, once cold, suddenly warm under his touch and sound. "Some men are like that sometimes."

Tentatively, you looked up at him. Seungcheol looked very different from the last time you saw him. This time, he took the persona of just a regular guy. His hair no longer had the length it once did, almost touching the base of his neck, but was cut short, the front strands slightly spiked up. The bright red had given way to what you suspected was his natural hair color, such a dark shade of brown that it was almost black. The characteristic purple suit was gone, in its place, a simple black T-shirt, exposing the muscles of his arms, and jeans.

"I was there when she got the test results back," Joshua said, his tone angry, cheeks turning a shade of red. "I know what it said. She's the one unfit to have a child. There's nothing wrong with me."

Ah, so that’s what the issue was. There was no real problem when you were the one in pain, when you were the one suffering. The issue started the moment he was the one who started to look bad, not feel bad. You didn’t think Joshua was capable of feeling bad about anything regarding your relationship. That was long done and gone. The issue started when he thought there was something wrong with him.

"Like I said, you just couldn't shoot your shot," Seungcheol said, his tone much harsher than it had been just a few minutes ago. "Let's go, baby."

Seungcheol put his body between Joshua and you, making sure your ex couldn’t reach you, even after he tried. If looks could kill, Joshua would probably be long gone.

You kept staring at the glass of water in front of you, as if it could possibly contain all the answers you wanted and needed.

At the same time that it had been easy to fall back into Seungcheol, it was even easier to remember all the reasons why you shouldn’t have done that.

Never mind that the man is an actual demon, who had shown up at your door not because he wanted to but because he was told to. Somehow, you could walk past that. The real problem was when he left. He was gone, as if he had never even been there to begin with.

It was like the feeling of waking up from a dream so vivid that you can't help but think it's true — and yet that’s all it was, a dream. The only thing left behind was what made you believe that it wasn’t really a dream.

You kept running your hand over your stomach, trying to keep your mind quiet, but there was no way. You kept drifting back to those minutes in the store, how he didn’t let go of you until you explicitly told him not to touch you. He was by your side when Joshua exited the store, fuming. He pretended to be someone who was only helping you put the bag inside the car when Wonwoo finally arrived. He was gone again. But at the same time, he wasn’t.

The reason why you were still in the kitchen was because you knew he was in your living room. You could hear Seungcheol’s footsteps as he waited for you. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do, what you should say. The most obvious thing would be to simply tell him to fuck off. The deal was clear: he was supposed to come in, get you pregnant, and leave. End of story. But he chose to stay, and you chose to believe that he could stay.

You stood up, put the glass in the sink, and turned the light off. There was no reason to delay a situation that could no longer be avoided. You had stayed in the kitchen for two hours after you took notice of his presence. Even after so long, he didn’t leave.

Seungcheol halted his steps once he noticed you in the hallway. He had been thinking of the best way possible to approach you. He had made the decision to face Jeonghan’s wrath and punishment after choosing to go against his orders. But he also knew that it wasn’t as simple as that.

Because the truth was that he left. Nothing could change that. There was no going around it. But there wasn’t a second after he walked out that he didn’t regret it. It was partially his decision, partially Jeonghan’s demand. Jeonghan, because every time Seungcheol even tried to get close to you, Jeonghan would immediately call him back, demand his presence. But there was also a little bit of him, wondering what it would be like, what he could possibly offer you other than what you had bargained with Jeonghan.

There wasn’t much to him to begin with. He was a kid his parents sold out, and a demon that could only harvest energy by sleeping with people.

He couldn’t help but wonder what he could possibly give to someone, especially someone like you. You were so good and always somehow managed to see the best in him. You didn’t look disgusted when you saw him in your bed the next morning; you were surprised, sure, but your face didn’t twist when you noticed him.

Seungcheol could still remember the light blush on your cheeks when you realized everything that went down. How, when he came back to your house that night — because he couldn’t bring himself to stay away — you welcomed him. How every time after that it was so easy and made him feel whole for the first time in his life. How he was happy just by sleeping by your side.

The entire time, though, he kept wondering what he could possibly give you, what he had that could be of worth to you.

"You can’t just do that, you can’t just not show your face for months and then come back as if nothing at all ever happened."

Your voice was tired, and you kept your eyes closed, a hand on your forehead.

He wanted to say something — anything — but his mind went completely blank as he looked down at your exposed belly. The pajama shirt had ridden up, leaving your stomach completely out in the open.

Seungcheol knew that he hadn’t been gone for that long. And he had watched you from afar, so he had seen the changes in your body, but having you right in front of him at that moment, with no fabric to hide your skin.

"You're showing so much already," he whispered, amazed. Seungcheol had to contain the urge to come closer to you, to hold you.

You rolled your eyes, not believing that those were the first words he decided to say to you after so long.

"Yeah, well, having two babies growing in the space that was supposed to fit one will do that to you."

You stood there, tempted to sit down but refusing to move an inch because you didn’t want to show any sort of weakness in front of him.

"Don’t be angry at me, I had no choice."

You simply shook your head.

"There’s always a choice, Seungcheol."

He closed his eyes at the sound of his name on your lips. He had missed it so much. He had missed you so much.

"I’m telling you the truth."

"Fine," you sighed, giving up the resolution of standing up and choosing the comfort of the armchair that had become your favorite piece of furniture.

Seungcheol leaned over the couch, gripping the back of it.

"When you went to Jeonghan, you knew that you’d be doing this on your own," he said in a low voice.

"You think that I don’t know that? You think I don’t know how pathetic and crazy I look?" you scoffed. “The first few times you showed up, I sort of expected it to be the last one. I was aware of what I was getting myself into. But then you kept showing up, and it wasn’t just about the sex anymore. I forgot about trying to get pregnant or having a baby, I was just having fun. It was easy to forget, it was so easy to just fall for you.”

You wanted to pull the words back inside your mouth as soon as they slipped out. You didn’t mean to say that, to openly admit it. Those were feelings you wanted to keep to yourself only, that should have been kept inside. Be yours and only yours.

“Shit,” you said, covering your mouth.

“What did you just say?” Seungcheol breathed, his eyes wide and filled with tears.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, keeping your gaze low.

There was no reason to look at Seungcheol. You knew the second you met his eyes, all your resolve would fail and fall. There was no doubt in your mind that you would simply let yourself fall into him once again.

“You said you fell… for me,” he whispered, as if not believing he had said the words.

“You should go,” you whispered, holding your hands tightly until your knuckles turned white.

“No,” he refused.

“Get out.”

“No.”

“You want to hear it? Fine.” You forced yourself to stand up with some struggle. Your face turned into a scowl when Seungcheol moved to help you. “I fell for you. I was the human stupid enough to not only cut a deal with a demon but also to fall for another one. I fell for you, but you have nothing to worry about, I’m used to being someone who wants things she could never have.”

You moved your hand in front of yourself in an attempt to show that it was indeed fine. You had thought about the entire situation for a long time, and as much as you missed him, you knew how pathetic it was on your side.

Finally, Seungcheol moved closer to you. One second he was behind the couch, the next he was in front of you. His hands came up to cradle your face, his thumbs pushing your chin up so he could look into your eyes, like that would make him understand what you were saying, like he could make sense of the word love.

“Why would you do that?”

His voice was so low, almost like he was talking to himself. His eyes kept searching yours, while you refused to look at him.

You were so close to cracking. One look at him would be enough.

Fuck, one glance.

“Isn’t that the million-dollar question,” you snorted.

His hands were so warm, like just that small touch could remedy and cure everything that was out of place.

“Listen…”

“I don’t want to listen. I want you out.” You grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands down, away from your face.

“Let’s talk about this,” he begged.

“Get out!” you all but screamed.

Seungcheol’s eyes went wide, not really believing what had just happened.

A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door and your name was being called out, almost in desperation. You were never more thankful for your neighbors. You turned your back to him and pulled the door open.

“Is everything okay?”

Seokmin and Mingyu stood at your door — worry all over their faces, before suddenly turning to anger when they took notice of Seungcheol’s presence.

“It is, thank you. He was about to leave.”

“Thank you for doing this, Hoon.”

You stood by the door, a hand moving over your belly. It was getting harder and harder to do things. You felt way too heavy; sometimes it was even hard to breathe. That was why you had called Jihoon for help.

This time, you hadn’t called Nina. In her eagerness to help, she would completely take over. You had just asked Jihoon, and begged him not to tell her anything. You knew she’d be upset, and you felt bad about it, but this time you wanted it to be your choice alone.

“Well, I have some experience painting baby rooms,” he laughed lightly.

Jihoon stood with his back to you, running his hand over the wallpaper covered in air balloons. He moved with the ease of someone who had done the same thing many times, not only when his children were born, but whenever they decided they wanted new colors in their rooms. Just like their mother, they enjoyed changing things up a little too often.

“I’m sorry if I’m being rude here, but… does the dad know?”

Your entire body went stiff at the mention of Seungcheol. Not that Jihoon actually knew him, but still.

It had been a few days since you last saw Seungcheol, and you had been doing your utmost not to think about him or about what had been said in your living room. You didn’t want to think about the look in his eyes when you told him that you had fallen for him, or when you kicked him out. You refused to think about all the times you saw him waiting outside the building when you left for work in the morning, and how he was still there when you came back at the end of the day.

He never dared to follow you inside the building or any other place. It was as if he just wanted you to know that he was there.

“He knows,” you forced yourself to say.

Jihoon didn’t like that answer, you could tell by the way he didn’t turn to look at you, and how his grip on the wallpaper tightened.

“You said having a baby was impossible for you.”

“I know. It just… somehow happened.”

“Was Joshua the problem?”

“No, it was really me.” you laughed.

“So you’re saying it was a miracle.”

You weren’t sure if you could call a deal with Jeonghan a miracle — but miracle was a much nicer word than bargain with the devil king. You also weren’t sure Jihoon, or any of your siblings, would ever believe you if you decided to tell them the truth.

“Yeah, something like that.”

This time he turned to look at you, a tiny smile on his face. “Well, miracle or not, I’m happy for you.”

You knew it was about to happen the moment you turned off the lights. It was like you could feel his presence before you even saw him. You didn’t doubt it, you just knew.

Ever since that night at your place, when you kicked him out, Seungcheol had been coming over in the dark hours. At first, he stayed in the living room. He didn’t dare come any closer. He would wait for you outside your work, walking behind you at a distance.

After you made the mistake of acknowledging his presence, he started staying longer, sleeping in the living room, just outside your bedroom door.

A couple of nights after that, he was inside your room, still by the door.

It made you wonder if all the other times you thought you saw him, he had actually been there, vanishing just before you laid eyes on him. At that moment, it didn’t seem unlikely.

“Please don’t do this,” you begged the empty room. “If you can’t stay, just don’t come around at all.”

Seungcheol was a shadow in the corner, a faint sound behind your back letting you know he was there.

“I don’t know how to stay away from you,” his answer came in a whisper, as if admitting it shocked him as much as it did you.

He moved across the room until he sat on the floor beside you. His eyes were filled with tears, his hand raised halfway toward your face, trembling, as if he were holding himself back from touching you.

The sight made your own eyes swell with tears.

“I keep thinking that I could have this life with you,” he murmured, resting his chin on the mattress, so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. “I keep thinking that I could have this mundane life: grow old with you, see these babies come into the world, raise them with you. Love you the way you deserve to be loved. I’d give anything to have that.”

If there had been any chance of you not crying, it vanished the moment you heard those words. The lump in your throat was so big it hurt to breathe, like you were expanding from the inside out too fast.

“I need you to know that the reason I left was because I was pulled away, and then forced to stay away from you. But also because I thought I had nothing to give. How could I be someone of importance to you, when I wasn’t one myself?”

You ran your hands through his hair. It was still a surprise to see it shorter and dark. Seungcheol closed his eyes at the contact, almost purring when you ran your thumb over his cheek.

“Seungcheol,” you whispered. “All I ever wanted from you was you.”

“I love you,” he said, his face twisting, as if saying the words was both a relief and a wound. “I want to stay so badly, but I don’t know how… Jeonghan has my life. If he pulls me back, I have to go. But I want to stay with you. Here. I love you, and I want to stay.”

You forced your body into a sitting position and pulled Seungcheol closer the moment a sob escaped his lips. He kept whispering the same words over and over again.

“I love you,” you finally said aloud, making Seungcheol wrap his arms even tighter around your waist. “We’ll figure something out, okay?”

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

you swore you started seeing him everywhere now. and every time he walked by you, he looked at you with something you couldn't quite figure out.

by week four, you were sure he was doing this on purpose.

bumping into you and slyly looking at your lips, thinking you wouldn't notice. holding your waist just for a few seconds to pass by you in tight spaces, like near the tiny elevator.

you could never escape yang jungwon.

so it didn't surprise you when you saw him cooped up, trying to work one of the machines in the laundry room. you walked down the stairs, basket in hand with a little smile seeing his confused face.

"you're supposed to insert the coin." you said, walking next to him as you saw his eyes light up at the sight of you.

"i did, about four of them." he said, scratching the back of his with an embarrassed look.

you took a closer look at the laundry machine, hitting it once or twice. you sighed as you looked back at him, crossing your arms. "you got one of the faulty machines, there's only a few good ones that work around here."

"gosh really?" he said, you swore you could hear a whimper behind the hands that covered his face.

"i wonder why they still keep this shitty place up." he said, sighing.

"swear this place is some kind of money laundering scheme." you joked, trying to cheer him up due to his loss of four coins. "i'm telling you, i heard a slot machine at the back the other day."

jungwon laughed, his voice like honey. you've never heard his laugh before, but now you'd give anything to hear it again.

"didn't know you've got a sense of humour, honey." there it was again, that damn nickname. your breath hitched as he looked at you with his dreamy daze.

you cleared your throat, reaching for your basket but he moved faster. fast enough to block any exit for you to escape. his hand slid next to the machine next to you, leaning into you. everything moved so fast yet so slow.

"jungwon─" the air between you thickened as you let his name out your mouth.

"funny...we keep seeing each other everywhere." his eyes now locked onto yours.

"well, we live next to each other." you shrugged, trying to act unfazed by how nervous he made you.

"just feels more than a coincidence, yeah?" jungwon raises his eyebrow with a smirk plastered on his face.

"i don't...believe in fate." you say, looking away from him with a flushed face. truth is, you actually didn't believe in the word fate, not one bit.

it was merely a myth your mother told you during your nightly bedtime stories, it never felt realistic to you. so why did it feel like it was just out of arms reach now?

"mm, but i do, honey." jungwon leaned in closer, his lips just an inch away from yours. gosh, the things you'd do to pull him by the collar and join your lips together.

his eyes fell down to your lips, plump and so kissable. if only he could ditch everything that was hiding him back and pull you into his arms in that laundry room. your back pressed against the machine as his hand came incredibly close to your waist, but he never quite touched you.

he could see how nervous you looked, jungwon could almost hear your heart pounding out of your chest. it was the cutest sight he'd ever seen.

his eyes shifted, away from your lips and away from your face. he plucked a stray coin from the machine you were resting against.

"lucky penny." jungwon stepped back as he whispered.

you broke away from your daze immediately, clearing your throat quietly. jungwon smirked again, looking back at you with those eyes again, the eyes that said everything his mouth couldn't.

"see you around, honey." he said, leaving your place, going to the other room of the laundry place, leaving you there a blushing mess.

one more 'honey' from his mouth and you swore you would be his.

𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗕𝗙! 𝗛𝗘𝗘

he pretends to be unbothered whenever you tease him to death. he thinks hes soooo nonchalant. but internally, he's a blushing tomato and you could tell to when his ears turn red whenever you call him your 'pretty boy'.

other people call him aloof. aloof my ass! the moment your clumsy self trips on air and falls on your face, he comes running from the other side of the hall to see if you were bruised.

he'd scold you as he gently patches you up. you roll your eyes playfully at him with the way he nags so much for a rather cold guy.

he'll also walk you home everyday, without a miss. you'd ask him if your house is this way ( it's not ) but he'll act like it is, even if it means detouring his route. cutie

𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗕𝗙! 𝗛𝗘𝗘

he's not really good with words, you can't expect any love letters either or long speeches from him. but rather, you can see his love from the way he acts.

heeseung gives you forehead kisses from time to time, backhugs you and never lets go, whispers sweet nothings to your ear and makes you giggle all the time.

he's the first one to know if you're upset. it's like his boyfriend senses tingles whenever you pout. but he really doesn't know what to do. he just hugs you and runs his fingers through your hair.

although it doesn't mean as much, you know it's his way of showing you he cares.

you know he never says it. but you can tell from the way he acts, he loves you a lot.

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You both giggled as you headed to your literature class. The two of you entered the classroom and took your seats—Minju slid into a spot a few rows behind you.

Your back straightened against the seat and a fresh page turned on your pink notebook, you waited for the teacher to settle down to start teaching about poetic devices or whatever was in the syllabus. Everything flew smoothly for you.

The peers around you seemed a bit confused, struggling to take down notes, but with your black gel pen and the stickers you set aside, it was a piece of cake.

Academics were never a problem for you. Always present and ready to learn, mathematical formulas and physics concepts flew into your mind with ease. Your essay skills were impeccable, and many teachers were impressed with your memory. Well, no wonder you were the top student. You had everything—looks, brains, and luck by your side.

Class ended sooner than you had expected. You were already out of your seat, packing your things, waiting for Minju. You closed your notebook when someone approached you. Still focusing on your books, you didn’t bother to look up.

He cleared his throat, hands in his pocket. “Hey.”

You looked up at him with a smile, even though his face was quite unfamiliar. His hair fell in soft waves above his eyes. His lips were pouty with a soft pink dew on them. A faint blush lingered on his cheeks as if it belonged there—everything about him looked natural. From his brown eyes that met yours to his backpack that slung over his shoulder, he seemed put together.

His uniform was neatly ironed, yet he draped a gray hoodie over his frame. His shirt was tucked in his slacks, though his tie hung loosely around his neck. You looked over at his name stitched on his badge.

Yang Jungwon.

The name left an unfamiliar trace in your mind. You felt like you had seen him around, cooped up in a corner or getting banana milk with his friends, but the memories of him sat at the back of your mind. Of course, he was simply a background character in your life, simply existing, never colliding with your world.

Until now.

“What’s up?” you asked him, confusion laced in your voice.

“Uh, nothing much? Just wanted to ask you if you were free this weekend?”

Oh?

Wow, you must be on a roll today. Already getting a confession before the clock even struck nine. A confession in broad daylight. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged the ends of your lips.

It was sweet, really. The cute nerdy guy who seemed like he has never had the courage to speak to you finally does. Though he does seem like your type, you barely knew the guy—only hearing about him from your friend’s daily gossip sessions sometimes.

He never crossed your mind once. His name falling out of your friends’ lips, your mind barely registering it, and to be forgotten in a few minutes when Minju brings up her new crush or what she had for lunch that day.

Yet here he was, standing in front of you.

A shameless yet sweet confession out of his mouth already.

“So fast? We just met.” You couldn't help but giggle.

Though, Jungwon’s face stayed the same.

“I mean, I get it,” you went on. Your voice seemed a bit too confident. “It’s not the first time this has happened. You seem like my style, really! But I mean, we don’t even know each other. I’m sure there are other girls willing to spend time with you. You seem like a great guy—handsome even.”

You offered him your signature smile—the kind that made the seniors fall on their knees and the shy boys leave letters in your locker.

Though Jungwon didn’t waver. Instead, he turned his head in confusion.

“Huh?”

How cute! He’s embarrassed.

You giggled at him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be shy about it. Everyone has crushes. I’ve heard lots of confessions that end this way. But I think it's cute you have the courage to ask me out.”

“I’m sorry—confessions?”

You nodded.

He let out a breathy laugh and turned his head to the side, almost as if he was in disbelief. He was amused by your… confidence. Suddenly, you were the confused one.

“You thought I was asking you out?” Jungwon raised a brow.

“Weren’t you?” you said, slower this time. The confidence that was radiating out of you dimmed down and crumbled into a little ball.

Jungwon bit back his smile, shaking his head. “We’re project partners,” he explained. “Miss Bae gave the list of partners yesterday.”

Everything fell into place.

Idiot!

If only you had dragged yourself to school yesterday instead of laying in bed all day and binge-watching Gossip Girl, you wouldn't be standing here utterly humiliated. You felt like the stupidest person alive. Not only did you assume he liked you when he barely talked to you—you rejected him!

You blinked, your lips parting in horror. “Oh.”

Jungwon looked over at your name on your badge and back at your flustered face—red as ever. “Y/N, is it?”

He didn’t even know your name!

You sighed and nodded, holding your books tight. The chestnut-haired boy could only be amused by your embarrassed state.

Jungwon pursed his lips into a line, his grip on the strap of his bag tightening. “So, this weekend? I'll send you the details.”

“Huh—oh, right. For the project.” You gulped and nodded quickly, your eyes darting anywhere but at him.

“For the project,” Jungwon chuckled. “See you then.”

He turned to leave but paused at the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder—his expression remained unreadable as always.

“And thanks for the compliment, by the way, Y/N,” Jungwon said before disappearing into the hallway.

Rejecting someone who wanted nothing to do with you romantically was probably a new low for you. What was worse was that you would have to meet him again and work with him. You gulped at the thought of it, already dreading the awkward tension you would have to face this weekend.

You groaned, looking back at your desk, only to be met with Minju’s amused face. Was she watching the entire time? Oh gosh.

Minju opening her mouth to say something was definitely a snarky remark, only for you to shut her down. “Don’t even start.”

You glared at her. Because she was the last of your worries. She wasn’t what was going to kill you.

This project was.

You would never recover from this. Ever.

Minju sat with you at lunch alongside Moka, both of them still giggling at what had happened yesterday in literature class.

“Guys, can you cut it out?” you groaned, putting your head on the table. At least the cafeteria helped drown out the whines you let out due to your embarrassment.

You were sure of it—they would write about this in the textbooks. Your face on the cover and the word “delusional” written under it in big red letters. You were always lucky. Everyone was sure of it. So why wasn’t it helping now?

You waved at the universe, looking for any sign of the luck that drowned out the moment you had your first conversation with Yang Jungwon. Why did your luck run out the moment he stepped into your world? You’d never have this problem with any other guy.

Why him? Why now? Why!

You tried to gulp your embarrassment away with the banana milk you drank, hoping it would help at least (it did not). Moka and Minju were amused—they’d never seen you like this. Heck, you’d never seen yourself like this.

You always had a smile on your face, giggling about some stupid thing. Whether it was a new David Corenswet picture or brand new gossip that had erupted from the girls’ locker room, you had never had a bad day.

Only able to sigh, you accepted your fate. This was your final form—you could only embrace it.

You raised your head again to take a sip from your miserable banana milk (much like how you felt), only to spot the same chestnut-haired boy again. That same tie that was there yesterday still hung loose around his neck. A taller boy by his side had his arm around Jungwon.

You huffed. “No seriously. Who even is he?”

Moka giggled at your state. You crossed your arms and scrunched your eyebrows as you darted your eyes over to the boys across the room.

Minju shrugged. “I’ve seen him around. Once or twice maybe. He doesn’t really talk much.”

Moka nodded at Minju’s statement. “He’s always hanging with that Riki guy.”

“Riki?” You turned your head to Moka.

Moka nodded as she ate her food, her mouth full. “He’s oddly quiet—other than with Riki. I’m surprised they’re friends when Riki’s, like, really loud.” Moka snorted, joking after gulping down her food.

Your gaze turned back to the elder boy, joking around with the younger. They both looked happy, not having a care in the world. Riki poked his chopsticks into Jungwon’s food, stealing some of his snacks while giggling.

Jungwon’s face formed a smirk, similar to the one he’d had yesterday. The shame from yesterday came wallowing back to you. The unsettling memories left a fresh stain on your mind.

“This project is going to kill me, literally!” you whined once more, pouting at your friends as you looked up at them.

“One embarrassing moment won’t end you, Y/N,” Minju reassured you.

“Yeah, welcome to the world, Y/N. People get embarrassed on the daily. C’mon, I literally tripped on air in front of Jake yesterday,” Moka joked, while Minju snorted.

“Hey, if it helps, we are going to that party later. Maybe getting wasted is what you need right now,” Moka nudged your shoulder.

Your lips twitched as you blinked at Moka. You muttered under your breath, “Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, leaning on her shoulder.

“Hell yeah, you are going to forget about him the moment you dunk down that soju,” Minju giggled enthusiastically.

Minju was right. Maybe getting absolutely drunk off cheap alcohol from Jay’s party was what you needed. Maybe—just maybe—you would finally forget about Jungwon and that stupid smirk of his that kept running around in your mind.

You brushed him out of your mind. You only had one plan now: getting absolutely wasted.

You had already downed your second drink, feeling the slight burn in your throat when Minju shoved half an empty carton in your face.

“Trust me,” she said enthusiastically as she poured the juice into your glass filled with vodka. She seemed far too excited for someone who was trying to mix alcohol with the cheapest juice she could find. “This is like, life changing.”

You could barely hear her over the speakers that shook the walls. Jake’s house was hot and stuffy, filled with teenagers who had a far lower tolerance than they bragged about. You swore you could hear someone throwing up in the corner of the house. Gross. But this was the default pack of a badly thrown party at some teenager’s house while their parents were out and about, blindly trusting their children to behave.

And you were supposed to be enjoying it.

“Minju, you just made vodka cranberry,” you deadpanned, sighing after you took a sip from the drink.

“The vodka cranberry,” she insisted, pushing the drink back to your face as she forced you to take another sip—clinking her glass against yours. “Cheers!”

So this is why Moka left the both of you the moment you stepped foot here.

One more minute with Minju would make your head explode. You knew she would be drunk off her ass in about another thirty minutes or so and you would have to hold her hair while she threw up in the toilet.

You glanced around the room for any sign of Moka, but she was nowhere to be found. That fucking genius—you should’ve known when she went to take a fifteen-minute bathroom break. The music that bounced off the walls drowned out Minju’s loud voice as you looked around the room.

Just then, your eyes landed on him. Yang Jungwon.

What the fuck?

Why was he even here? You narrowed your eyes as you watched him lean against the wall, talking to Jake.

“Y/n, look!” Minju said, unusually bubbly—the vodka had gotten to her. “It’s Jake!” She squealed like she hadn’t seen him yesterday.

Before you knew it, Jake was already waving at you both, signalling you over. Minju grabbed you, pulling you through the sweaty bodies of teenagers packed in the living room.

“Hey guys! I didn’t know you were coming.” Jake greeted you both with a grin. “Oh! By the way, have you met Jungwon?” Jake asked, his gaze flickering over towards you.

You caught Jungwon’s faint smirk out of the corner of your eye as he stared intently at you. Jungwon shoved one hand in his pocket while the other held a drink as he leaned against the wall again—his eyes never leaving you.

“Oh, she knows him alright.” Minju giggled, nudging you playfully, which made you elbow her lightly in the ribs before faking a smile.

“I’ve seen him around,” You said, your gaze falling on Jungwon for a second.

“Me too,” Jungwon said, and you could almost hear the smugness in his voice.

You swallowed the sudden tightness that settled in your throat. The air surrounding you felt warm suddenly as you looked at him again. This time, that smirk of his was replaced by a genuine smile, like he was amused to see you. His smile ran through your mind and made you weak in the knees.

Why was he already getting in your head?

“Right, I’m going to get some more drinks,” Jake said, clapping his hands before you could speak.

Minju’s eyes lit up—of course they would. She tagged along before Jake could say anything, already on her way to the kitchen.

So that just left you and Jungwon here in the corner of a stuffy living room while other teenagers were either throwing up or making out.

“You’re drinking?” you asked him.

“No, before you start assuming again, it’s grape juice.” His words brought back flashbacks you wished you could forget.

“I wasn’t—” you groaned. “I’m sorry, alright?. You would assume too if you got confessions almost every day.”

“Oh, right. Who knew the pretty girl had real problems too.” Jungwon chuckled, taking a sip of his grape juice, looking smug.

You mentally scoffed, ignoring how your heart skipped a beat when that nickname rolled out of his mouth so smoothly and the way he looked at you.

Jungwon’s smirk wasn’t just teasing you—he was enjoying watching your nervous self, like seeing you fumble over your words was peak entertainment. You caught yourself fidgeting with the hem of your tiny skirt as his words echoed through your head.

“Are you… mocking me?”

“No, I’m amused,” Jungwon corrected you.

Tilting your head slightly, you asked, “Yeah, amused how?”. For a moment you could see something flicker over his eyes before it returned to his smug self.

He leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving you. “You know, Moka and Jake are right there, waiting for you to join them,” he said, jerking his head towards the pair behind you.

“And I know you saw them.” He was insanely close to you; the distance between you and Jungwon was shrinking by the second, and every alarm in your head went off, screaming at you to step back—except you didn’t.

What shook you more was how he noticed. He noticed every single detail about you: how your hands were slightly trembling and how your eyes shifted to Moka and Jake earlier, yet you stayed still, talking to Jungwon. He read you like an open book, and that terrified you.

“Yet you’re still standing here, talking to me.” Jungwon finally looked at you again, his gaze towering over you, making your knees buckle.

Jungwon’s eyes held a thousand unspoken words, yet none of them were easy to read. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding so fiercely that Jungwon could have heard it too if he listened close enough. The music, the people, the chaos all faded into the background. At that moment, it felt like it was just you and him.

“I could ask you the same,” you whispered, barely able to hear your own voice. “Why haven’t you left?”

“Maybe I like what I’m seeing.” He had that shit-eating grin on his face again, which you wanted to rip off so badly.

Because, fuck, no matter how hard you tried to stay steady and unfazed, your heart fluttered and your mind spun. And this time, you knew it wasn’t the alcohol hitting. It was the boy in front of you making your knees weak.

By the end of that party, you learned three things: Minju was shit at taking shots, Jungwon was a big flirt, and your heart was definitely swelling.

The café seemed calm while your mind buzzed with chaos—thoughts roamed around your head, each one ending with the boy you were dreading to see: Yang Jungwon.

You sat stiffly on the chair, gulping down your matcha, surprised at yourself for getting out of bed early and spending quite an amount of time on what your outfit would be. This wasn’t like you at all.

You glanced at your phone again; ten minutes had passed yet still no sign of the boy.

So you were now early and nervous. Fuck, how much of a loser were you?

Hunching your back, you rested your head in your hands. You tried to ignore the relentless thumps ofin your heart. You were never like this. Being nervous about a boy you met less than two days ago. It felt unfamiliar and annoying, that uneasy warmth in your heart that made your stomach turn.

Usually, it was you who made people nervous. Never the other way around. You were the girl that made boys fall to your feet when you flashed them a smile. So thoughts of a boy who had ticked you off at that party not even ten hours ago made your skin crawl—or worse, it made you flustered.

You? Flustered? You’d laugh at the assumption, but then again it was true. The heat on your cheeks alone was enough to give it away. It was ridiculous. Thinking of a boy who made your knees buckle when you made others stammer and fumble their words.

With the thoughts of the boy out of your head, your fingers tapped against the ceramic mug in your hand. You remained relaxed and composed, yet your heart was pounding in your chest. All you could think of was when he’d walk through that door.

Just then, the boy you dreaded to see finally showed up—clad in a hoodie he threw on with headphones around his neck. His hair was messy yet effortlessly chic as always, and his cheeks had that same blush which you recognised from the other day—the one where you were utterly humiliated by him.

“You’re late,” you spoke, looking up at him.

“By ten minutes. I hardly call that late.” Jungwon chuckled—bringing butterflies to your stomach as he threw his bag on the table, taking a seat in front of you.

“We could’ve gone through the entire overview of the assessment by that time,” you huffed. You really didn’t know why you were already putting up a fight; maybe you wanted to raise your walls up or strengthen your defenses before he made a blushing mess out of you again.

“Sure. Whatever you say, pretty.” Jungwon pulled out his laptop, the nickname rolling off his tongue naturally, like he always called you that.

You were already blushing. Get it together!

You rolled your eyes, hoping he didn't see the warmth creeping up your cheeks. You opened your own laptop, finally starting to work.

“What part are you doing?” Jungwon asked, his eyes prying away from the screen.

“The research. You’ll be handling the analysis and the conclusions,” you said, typing away on your keyboard, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that.

“Mhm,” he hummed. The more you looked at him—through the secret glances amidst your typing—the more effortlessly handsome he looked. Fuck, you couldn’t let him get to your head.

You tried to focus, typing a few notes here and there and jumping to different websites from time to time, yet you couldn’t shake that feeling off your head.

That feeling when your heart skipped a beat whenever he looked in your direction. Your ears grew red whenever he muttered something under his breath or whenever he made a flirty remark, calling you pretty again like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Does this make sense?” you asked him, pointing at your laptop.

His eyes shifted in a second; he looked at you and then your laptop. He needed a better look, so what better than to sit next to the empty seat beside you. Without another thought, he plopped right into the chair beside you, his shoulders brushing over yours.

“Hmm? Which one?” he said, his eyes scanning over the document.

“This part. I think I should be a bit more specific, but it could be interpreted in many ways, you know,” you explained, your hand steady on the mouse as you pointed to the paragraph you’d been eyeing for the past few minutes.

“Yeah, but it’d help if you made it clearer,” Jungwon said, leaning over to see your screen better. “Like this part.” He said, his hand slowly sliding over yours on top of the mouse and dragging it around to highlight some words.

Jungwon was going to be the death of you.

The document in front of you was long forgotten; you could only think about the boy next to you and how he held your hand. His palm was soft and warm. The background music from the café became a blur as the faint chatter faded into the background.

It felt like time stopped and you could only hear your heartbeat. And you were pretty sure he could hear it too.

“You don’t have to be this nervous, pretty.” He whispered, not looking at you but his hand stayed on top of yours, not moving an inch.

“I’m not—don’t call me that.” You muttered, a desperate whine escaping your lips before you could stop it.

He only chuckled at you. “You’re shaking.” Jungwon finally met your gaze with a lazy smile. He was way too close. Like if he moved another inch closer, your heart would explode.

The boy looked down at your legs which were slightly shaking to the side. A chuckle escaped his lips as he looked back at you, knowing you basically proved his point.

“Relax, it’s just me.” He said, this time his smile wasn’t teasing—It was soft and genuine. Like he wanted to ease your mind, which wasn’t helping.

Instead, you were a mess inside. Your breath hitched as your fingers tightened around the mouse. The composure you’d held until now was fleeting away. He was calm and you were the exact opposite. Chaotic and a blushing mess.

Relax, it’s just me.

The words replayed in your head as he looked at you. It was just him, and that’s what frightened you.

Meeting him once already sent your heart to cardiac arrest, but meeting him multiple times over the days prior to the presentation; you ascended into the afterlife. Though there wasn’t any tension between you too, there was a warm feeling rising over you that you couldn't exactly put your finger on. 

You’d smile at his silly jokes he’d crack when he’d get bored of whatever he was typing down and your heart would slightly flutter when your hands brushed against him.

You swore your heart skipped a beat when he pulled out a chair next to him for you to sit and when he would adjust your work with your laptop, leaning over so he could get a better look. You were slightly embarrassed ( that was an understatement, you were tomato red ) when your cheeks felt warm after his cologne filled your nostrils. 

After working with Jungwon over the weekends and during the evenings after school, you came straight to bed hating the entire time you spent with him, but why were you waiting for the next time you saw him?

It was all a big mess in your heart—you didn't like the boy but you blush every time he looks at you. You hated thinking about him yet he always finds a place in your mind. You hated that little smile he does whenever he glances over at you or whenever he teasingly crosses out whatever you wrote on your shared google docs. So why did it bring a smile to your face? The boy you loathed and swore to make him feel the humiliation you felt bringing butterflies to your stomach?

Over the weeks, he had grown increasingly comfortable with you. Instead of sitting in front of you, he’d now take his place beside you claiming it was ‘easier to see your work’. With shared earbuds, drinks with two straws in one and far too many accidental brushes of his hand against yours—your heart was completely doomed. 

Jungwon had caught you staring sometimes. Sometimes was an understatement, it was many times actually. Yet he never said anything. That stupid smirk was on his face again whenever you looked at his direction a bit too long. It was like he knew, he knew the mess going on in your head and the relentless thuds from your heart. 

It wasn’t fair. It was never fair. The way he leaned in to hear you better and how he always smelled like vanilla and cologne. The way his voice dropped whenever your name rolled off his tongue like it was made for him. 

But it was especially unfair when he called you ‘pretty’.

He had no right to make your heart beat like this whenever he called you his adored nickname. ‘Pretty’ was the name he’d give to the girl he loves, not to you. Not to the girl who mistook his conversation for a confession. 

What you didn’t like the most about Jungwon was how he noticed you. Not the girl you claimed to be—the pretty, lucky junior who made boys fall to her feet.

It was the girl who secretly liked watching Gossip Girl and always snacked on sweets at midnight. It wasn’t Miss Perfect with Jungwon, it was just you. Just Y/n. You never had to be someone else, someone the world had wanted. He never expected anything from you— not your perfect image or the version of yourself that you put out. 

Sure, you loved being confident and a girl everyone adored, but a routine that had been your second skin was tiring. Knowing you could never step out of that without other people criticizing you was suffocating.

But with him, everything changed. Your laughs had become more genuine, your eyes had that glimmer in them that meant something. It was the real you.

“You know, you do that thing with your nose when you’re focused.” Jungwon had said once. It was a casual observation that you knew no one had noticed.

“What thing?” You turned your head towards him.

“That little scrunch. Like this.” He scrunched his own nose, showing you.

You blinked, letting out a breathy laugh. “No I don’t!”

“Hmm, but you do. It’s cute, really.” He said with that same teasing smirk. With that he returned to his work, acting like it wasn’t a big deal not knowing your heart kept pounding for the next few minutes. 

You weren’t used to that.

You were never really used to being seen. Never really used to being noticed past that perfect girl facade. You were just a lucky girl in front of everybody's eyes—a thing with Jungwon was to his eyes, you were Y/n. The girl who always took the last chip whenever he shared a snack ( which he leaves it for ) and the girl whose eyes lit up whenever she finished a part of the project. 

He got to know you. Through your stupidly cute anecdotes or your habits like doodling on the side of his notes. He’d catch himself smiling at the little things you wrote on his book when he went back home or how you’d be rambling along about something that happened in your day.

“Minju genuinely hates me, I swear!” You sighed, typing something on your document.

You kept rambling on about something that happened at school, “Why would she put me on the spot like that? In front of the teacher too!” Jungwon leaned his hand on his palm, completely disregarding his work.

Jungwon watched you with an amused smile, “I mean, you did forget the work. You’re lucky  he gave you an extension.” He said, tilting his head slightly.

You looked at him, “You’re taking her side?”

“No, I’m just saying.” He shrugged, innocently.

You darted your eyes at him, “And when I thought I needed you. You take someone else’s side. Wow.” You sigh, a pout forming on your lips.

“You know I'd take your side, pretty.” Jungwon looked straight at your eyes. His hand slowly came up near your face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “All I’m saying is let her go this once.”

You stopped breathing. 

He was so close to you. So close. The world around you blurred until it was only the two of you—sitting in that cafe. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed ever so lightly against your cheek as he retrieved it back.

You swallowed hard, looking away as his smile deepened. “Whatever. Get back to work, Wonie.” You muttered, trying to ignore that unfamiliar feeling in your chest.

Before you realized, you let out a nickname that was unfamiliar to you. But now it was too late to take it back. Jungwon on the other hand froze. His smile shifted into something different, something softer. 

“What did you call me?” His eyes gleamed as his voice dropped. Jungwon tilted his head, his tone playful as he looked at you with that little grin of his. 

You blinked. “No–nothing!” You looked away as you stammered over your words. Gosh, he was never going to let this go.

“No, you called me something.” Jungwon’s voice was soft, he seemed to actually like what you said. So much so, that your heart fluttered at his dashing smile. “Wonie.” He smiled, saying it outloud. “I like it, you should call me that more often.” 

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Don’t make it a thing!”

“Nope, too late.” He chuckled as he crossed his arms. “Wonie’s my name now, right, pretty?”

“Whatever.” You mumbled, getting back to your work. 

But your breath hitched, you could feel your throat tightening as you looked at him. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He leaned back against his chair as he turned to his laptop, starting to type again. 

Was he ever oblivious to the fact that he made you crazy? Did he realize that your heart swelled up whenever he was around or how your cheeks turned red when he looked at you with those eyes.

He never knew how you felt when his voice softened when talking to you—or how he noticed every little thing about you that other people would look past by. He always listened, even if it was as stupid as Minju snitching on you or how you were almost late to class. 

You looked back at Jungwon, leaned back against the chair and focused on his screen. He always managed to look this effortlessly good. Like he didn’t care about anything yet making your heart run marathons. 

You almost caught yourself smiling yet you stopped yourself before Jungwon would catch you staring at him. You turned back to your screen, only being able to focus on the work at hand rather than thinking about the boy next to you.

Minutes passed into hours and before you knew it, you were already done with going through the slides. The busy cafe from a while back had now emptied with the sunny sky turning into a dusky lavender. The stars had begun to set on the sky as the moon was visible enough. 

You stretched your arms back as you let out a quiet sigh, “I’m done.” you muttered, closing your laptop after saving everything. 

“Perfect timing,” Jungwon flashed a smile at you, as he closed his laptop. 

“You’re going home?” You said, seeing his pace while packing his bag.

To your surprise, he only shook his head no. “I can’t go home. I have to drop you off.” He said, a soft smile still on his face as he looked at you after packing his bag. 

“Jungwon, you don’t have to do that.” You glanced at him as you slung your tote bag over your shoulders. 

You both walked out the cafe, you followed him out as he opened the door for you. “You know I can’t let you go out alone this late.”

“You do realize I’m not a kid.” You scoffed at him, crossing your arms as you walked by him.

“Are you sure?” He snickered, making you pout.

You hit his shoulder lightly, “You’re so annoying.” You muttered. 

He only smiled at you, looking at your pouty face the entire time like he was enjoying teasing you. 

The city around you felt quieter now. The traffic had subsided, the buzz around the streets calming down. The wind brushed against your legs, your arms involuntarily shivered as you rubbed your hands up and down both your arms.

Jungwon without saying a word, removed his jacket and pulled it over you. You blinked as you looked around yourself as he came closer to put it on you. Your confused face was soon replaced by a blush. “Jungwon—you didn’t have to do that. I’m not that cold.”

“Sure, let’s act like you’re not freezing.” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes playfully with a smile on your face as you quietly thanked him, pulling the jacket even closer to your body. His jacket smelt faintly of cologne—his scent. His gesture left you melting, though you could never show it.

“You’re so…hard to figure.” You said, breaking the silence. The thought slipped out of your mind, with his gesture being the one to push you to it.

“Hm?” He glanced at you, his hands reaching into his pockets.

“I mean, you don’t seem like the boy I met that day in class.” You uttered. 

“Ah, you mean the boy that got rejected without even confessing.” 

You sighed, hoping he’d already forgotten about it. “Seriously, let that go!”

“No, it’s one of our core memories now.” He looked at you with that shit-eating smile again.

“Well, you looked like you were about to! And how was I supposed to know? That was the first time you’ve talked to me. Before that, I thought you were like really cold and cut off from the world.”

He giggled at your words, “You thought I was cold?”

You shrugged as you walked on the cobble path, kicking a stone on the way. “You barely talked in class. I’m pretty sure I only knew you because of Minju.” You glanced at him. 

“Well you know me enough now to know I’d never be cold, not to you, pretty.” He smiled at you, not knowing he just made your heart flutter.

You mentally screamed, trying to keep your composure in front of him. “Seriously…I’d have to ask about a thousand questions to figure you out.” Your comment piqued his interest.

“Ask away.”

You glanced at him, caught off guard by whether he was being serious or not. He looked back at you, not with those teasing eyes anymore. He looked genuine. A sincere gaze on you, making your heart do backflips. 

You blinked, needing a moment before you were sure you could ask the question that had been gnawing at you for ages. “Why do you always call me pretty?”

Jungwon was quiet, like the question caught him off guard. But then, at the corner of your eyes you saw a small, faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Because you are. You’re very pretty.”

Jungwon said those words with ease, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Seeing you around the hallways with a wide smile and you focused with that little scrunch on your nose made you the prettiest girl to him. 

Trying to hide the fact that you were already blushing hard, you let out a small laugh trying not to believe him. “Be serious.”

“I am serious. Everytime I see you at school, with your friends. You seem so fit for it. Though I didn’t notice you then. But it was when you were quiet. When you felt like yourself, I just thought you were a really pretty girl.”

You didn’t even realize you stopped walking before his words hit you. “You’re pretty like this. You’re pretty always but especially like this.” 

You stared at him, stunned. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. Not without an angle or expecting something. It wasn’t a compliment that was passed by with your friends during lunch or soft nothings that were whispered to you during parties.

You broke the silence, “This is my house.” You looked at the gate. “I should get going. “ You sent him a tight smile.

“I should go before your Mom thinks I kidnapped you.” Jungwon joked.

You laughed, a faint flush showing on your face before you realized. “Oh right, your jacket.”

“No, keep it. You look better with it.”

“Jungwon…” He managed to leave you speechless again. What could you even say? That he was sweet? That he made your heart race? He only shrugged like it was nothing. Like he hadn't just lit up something in you and made your entire week. 

“Thank you, for this… and for tonight.” You smiled at him, a shy but genuine smile.

The boy only shook his head, brushing it off. “Anytime.”

“Goodnight, Wonie.” You opened the gate and faced him one last time. You could barely hear your own voice. 

“Goodnight, pretty.” He said, his tone was warm and familiar. And with that he left as you closed the gate. 

You stood there for a moment, trying to process what just happened. Your fingers curled around the edges of his jacket, the one that brought butterflies to your stomach and the warmth you so needed. 

The night felt calm for the first time in quite a long period. It was rare to see the Moon so still and everything grounded. And you knew why. You knew the reason was the boy that made your heart flutter a few minutes earlier.

It wasn’t his actions that stirred something in you, it was his words. It was how he saw you. It was real. Everything he said to you before was what was in his mind. Your heart thudded so hard, it made your fingers twitch at your sides.

You gulped as his words played in your mind again and again. His words were the type to make you feel seen. Under all those perfect words people called you or the eyes that looked at you with admiration, it was just a girl that was trying to get on with another day of her life trying to meet everyone’s expectations.

You weren’t used to this and you think you might never get used to it. To be seen without the word ‘perfect’ or ‘lucky’. To be known as Y/n and not anything else. To have a real personality that you could share proudly. You could never get used to it when you grew up chasing people’s views of what they saw you as in your mind and never what you wanted to be. 

To say that you were shaking was an understatement, your heart was fully pounding. And it wouldn’t stop. Your cheeks were warm and your stomach turned. This wasn’t because of the presentation you were currently doing, but because Jungwon was so close to you. Your shoulder brushed against his arm as he slightly bumped into you while explaining the slides.

It felt maddening—the way he alone made you this nervous without even uttering one word to you. When it was your turn to present, your fingers tightened on the iPad in your hands as you tried to keep composure and breeze through the slides easily.

And you were doing so good, amazing even. You tried to focus on the slide in front of you, looking back and forth between the class and the screen, but Jungwon leaned in ever so slightly as he adjusted his laptop and whispered, “You’re doing good.”

You swear you choked. You breath hitched as your eyes glanced at him for a split second. Clearing your throat, you continued on with your presentation, trying to focus. By the time you reached to the end, your palms felt sweaty and your head felt light. Jungwon stared at you the entire time with a faint smile on his face, his eyes not leaving you once. 

A polite wave of applause ( war flashbacks ) rose across the class as you flashed a smile, thankful that you were done. As you returned to your seat beside Jungwon, you finally could breathe as you sat down.

“Oh my gosh, I was about to pass out.” Though he would never know it was because of him and not the presentation.

Jungwon turned to look at you with that smile of his, “Really? You couldn’t tell at all.”

You let out a small laugh as you tucked your hair behind your ear. “I guess so. It was kinda hard since I was so nervous, but I guess I worked past it.” You grinned.

“Oh yeah?” His gaze deepened, he looked almost proud. “Good girl.” 

Oh my gosh. You almost lost it. You blinked at the boy beside, wondering if you heard that correctly. He only turned back and looked at the front of the class, not knowing his words made your heart swell twice the size it was. He was messing up your head without even knowing it. 

You looked away quickly, your eyes darting to the screen as you hoped he wouldn't see the rising heat on your cheeks. It took everything in you to not collapse in front of the whole class. All it took was one phrase, one look to make your stomach turn and your heart flip.

And it wasn't fair how easily he got you blushing. You busied yourself and continued listening to the lecture. You just hoped he didn't catch how you would glance at him every now and then, and how your ears would turn slightly red when his arm brushed against yours.

Class wrapped up sooner than you expected, comments about poems and proses died down as you stood up from your chair. You felt a small wave of relief wash over you. The boy next to you slung his bag over his shoulder as he waited for you to arrange your things.

Before you even knew it, a classmate approached you—the tall boy with a charming smile, everyone knew him and everyone liked him. “Y/n, your presentation was flawless by the way. You always manage to pull it off.”

And just like that, the switch flipped.

Your relaxed shoulders straightened and you put on a smile that never reached your eyes. You tucked a loose strand behind your ear as you replied, “You’re too sweet. I wouldn’t call it flawless, but thank you. I’ll accept your compliment this once.” You giggled. 

“Just once?” He joked, as he tilted his head slightly.

“Well, I can’t accept all compliments. My ego would be too big.” The laugh you gave was polite. It was short, it was rehearsed. You commented just enough for small talk, but nothing further than that. It was like muscle memory. It was the cost of being the perfect, adored girl.

But from the corner of your eye, you could see Jungwon. He had this smile on his face. One you haven’t seen before. It was more of an amusement rather than his regular one. He seemed surprised, almost like he was seeing an entirely different person. As the classmate left, you faced him. He raised an eyebrow as he met your eyes.

“What?” You asked him, confused.

“Nothing.” He dismissed it. “I’m starving, do you want to go eat? I know this good place down the street that serves pho.”

You nodded as your lips formed into a tight smile, “That sounds good.” 

The walk to the restaurant was quiet enough for your thoughts to roam. Jungwon next to you seemed completely oblivious to the heart ache you were having. He seriously cannot be this blind to how you blushed at almost anything he did.

Or he knew exactly how your heart swelled every time he called you pretty. He knew how you would internally melt whenever he did those small gestures that you didn’t even think he’d notice. Maybe he knew it all along and just didn’t say anything—and that somehow made it even worse.

The little pho place was tucked at the end of the street, next to a bakery. It seemed quiet and warm, you could already taste the pho from here. You entered the restaurant, the bell above you chimed as Jungwon opened the door and led you in.

You settled for a quiet spot, near the window and away from the crowd. Jungwon slid on the seat across yours. He barely glanced at the menu while you took yours in your hands and zoomed through it. It seemed like he visited this place a lot.

“You come here a lot?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Jungwon who was looking out the window finally looked at you, “Yeah, this place is quiet. Helps me think.”

“About?” Your curiosity piqued. “You talk like you're a philosopher, Wonie” You giggled. 

Jungwon let out a quiet laugh, his eyes crinkled as he shaked his head. “Well, mostly things in my life. Just when I need to get some peace and quiet.” 

Your shoulders relaxed as you leaned against your chair, “So what? This is your escape? The place that serves pho?” You asked, looking around.

“It might not be much, but it helps.” He shrugged, his hands played with the ends of his hoodie.

You almost seemed to notice Jungwon—you noticed his stillness against the buzz of the restaurant. His edges softened here, his guard let down and his thoughts flew all around the place, they were all raw and real. He seemed effortless to your eyes, but here, he felt like another boy who came to eat pho and nothing more. He almost seemed distant to the boy that bruised your ego weeks ago. 

The butterflies in your stomach rested, the blush on your face faded. The warmth that rested on your chest wasn't as uneasy as it was. You weren’t nervous. No, not anymore. You felt comfortable. 

You let yourself go from the facade that you held up. Your smile came easier, they reached your eyes and your laughs felt full and real as Jungwon and you both joked. Words from each other fell rhythmically like a harmonious ballad, 

When the waiter arrived, Jungwon let out his order without looking twice at the menu, “You should get the beef pho.” He suggested.

“Yeah? Is it good?” You said, skimming through the menu.

“Mhm,” He nodded. “You’d like it,” He said it like he knew you. Maybe he really did. 

Maybe he listened to all those pointless rants you said during the time you spent together. Maybe he knew what you liked and disliked by heart and maybe, just maybe, he saw you for who you really are. For the girl that wasn’t attached to the title of being the perfect and luckiest girl. 

“Hm, I'll trust you on this one.” You muttered before you ordered your meal.

The waiter left quickly, the gentle hum of the restaurant settled around you. The soft edge of the lights reflected against Jungwon, you had to double take—was he glowing?

Every time you looked at him, he looked more perfect. The few flaws he had completely disappeared. You had to pinch yourself to know if this was real, if he was real. Snap out of it, this isn’t like you. Or that’s what you thought, this isn’t like you.

It was never like you to think of a boy for more than a week. But Jungwon has been roaming around in your mind for longer than you knew. The faint voice of the boy had rested on your mind during countless nights, his face showing up in thoughts you would have throughout the day.

You were even daydreaming. Daydreaming! The all perfect girl, who usually other people dreamed about was now falling into the charms of the quiet boy across from her.

You were doomed. Your heart knew it before you. It knew from the moment he cornered you in Jake’s party. The way his body leaned close but not enough to make you uncomfortable, just enough to make you nervous.

His eyes lingered for more than needed, itching to say what was on his mind. His lips twitched whenever you spoke, a smile broke through even though it was the most pointless thing you’d say. It was how calm he acted when your head was a mess. He brought the stillness to your chaos. He was the balance to the commotion in your life—the fresh breath in a life that was rehearsed for you. 

This was the dangerous thing about Jungwon, he never seemed like the boy that would distract you, he never seemed to disrupt your world. He wasn’t loud, he wasn’t chaotic. He was quiet, he kept to himself a lot. He was just there, in the midst of everything. Everyone else was rushing, in a hurry but to you, he was still. His feet didn’t move once, Jungwon was grounded. Maybe that's why he was so collected. He didn’t let anyone else pull him aside. He stayed through the buzz of the crowd. He stayed still.

Jungwon never saw the world the way the others did. His eyes showed him a different view. An almost calm one, a one with no expectations, just raw and real feelings. It was the one that felt like himself the most. And there, he saw you. You, the girl who was true to herself and not the ones everyone else expected you to be. 

He saw the girl who smiled genuinely, the girl who’d be sad when she was. Who felt angry and frustrated when she wanted to be. Who’d laugh at the silliest things.

She was the girl who wanted to feel whatever she wanted. Not rehearsed feelings handed on a silver platter. Not practiced smiles or polished mannerisms. No, it was the girl who had emotions that a real human felt. It wasn’t one that belonged to a porcelain doll. It was hers. 

You looked at Jungwon, he was leaning back slightly against his chair. “Why haven’t you showed me this place before?” You asked, knowing this could have been a place you both studied at.

“I don’t really bring people here.” His gaze fixed on you with a smile. “I mean, I brought Riki here once, but he was too loud—I’m pretty sure the owner glared at him multiple times.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I should be lucky that I got to come here with you.” You nodded, looking around and taking in the smell of the rich food around you.

“I wouldn’t call that lucky. Maybe I brought you here because I like you.” His smile stayed on. “I don’t talk to a lot of people, my only friends are probably Jake, Riki and the librarian. It’s kinda unexpected that I’m here with you.”

You titled your head, “Unexpected?”

“Mm, I didn’t expect to like you, Y/n.” Jungwon muttered. “I don’t think you did either. But I'm glad I’m here with you.”

“You’re right.” You said, playing with the rim of your glass absentmindedly. “You made me see a lot of things about me. Things I didn't even know I had.” You giggled, realizing how much of a blind eye you turned to yourself. “It’s just… I don’t have to pretend. It’s comfortable being around you, not exhausting.”

“Good,” Jungwon whispered. “I don’t want you to be someone else around me. I want you to be you.” Every word he said tugged at your heart as you swallowed your breath.

Just then, two steaming bowls of pho arrived—the waiter set them in front of you. You took in the scent of the rich broth as you brought your bowl near you. You picked up your chopsticks to take a bite.

Jungwon seemed to be enjoying his food, well he’s been here long enough to know the food was good. “This is amazing, Wonie.” You say, your eyes widening as the taste of the broth settles in your mouth. 

He giggles as he places a piece of his chicken in your bowl, “I’m glad you like it, pretty. Eat this too.” You took the piece of meat he placed in your bowl and gulped it down. 

“You really have good taste. I need to come here more often.” You said, taking another bite.

Jungwon laughed at your enthusiasm. “Sure, we can come here more often.” 

Your full cheeks slightly reddened as you heard him mention you both. “You’re a really good eater and I’m glad I’m eating pho here with you in a restaurant. It’s not everyday I get to eat a delicious meal with a pretty girl.”

“Shush,” You said, hiding your smile. 

You didn’t realize but there was a small splash of broth near your lips. As you continued talking, you noticed Jungwon’s smile as he laid his head against his palm. 

“What? Why’re you looking at me like that?” You asked.

“Nah, you got something.” Jungwon was swift as he leaned over to wipe off the broth with his thumb and bring it to his lips. He licked it off and went back to eating like it was the most normal thing ever. 

Now you were fully blushing. His actions made your heart strings tug violently. If only he could stop being the biggest gentleman and flirt in the world, your heart would finally have a rest. 

A few moments later, Jungwon finally spoke. “So, what’s your escape?” Jungwon asked, picking up from the question you asked him earlier.  

You paused for a minute, your chopsticks hovering over the bowl. You looked at Jungwon as the warm steam from the pho clouded your face slightly. For once, you thought of answering what was on your mind, instead of practiced words flowing out your mouth.

“I guess, I don’t really have one.” You said as you dunked your chopsticks in the bowl. “I grew up like this. I don’t think I know how to act like anything else other than this. I guess, I thought this was the real me for the longest time, but it's hard—exhausting even.” You sighed, knowing every day was a routine for you to act according to the title that was given to you. “I don’t have a place to be the real me. It seems pathetic, I know.”

“No it's not.” Jungwon’s voice was soft, almost reassuring. “Even though you can’t find the real you doesn’t make it any less real. It’s still there, I know it.” 

“You’re just saying that.” You tried to brush it off.

“Pretty, I’m being honest. I haven't been around you for long, but…well I don't know, but I don't think I’ve seen you laugh that loud. Or be so you. It seems different when you act around your friends and around me.” Jungwon confessed. 

“But…if you want a place, you can always come here. Even if it’s not with me. It’s a place that brought me the most calmness, and it might to you as well."

The thing is, you don’t think it's the place that made you calm. It was the boy in front of you. You denied your feelings for the longest time, but you don’t think you could keep it contained for any second longer. Whenever you were with him, you were always the real you, the real Y/n. 

For the first time in a while, you are finally allowed to admit it. To admit that the warmth in your heart wasn’t the unfamiliarity of Jungwon, but it was something more tender, more deeper.

It was love. It was the warmth that rested in your chest during those late evenings when you both studied together. It was the swell in your heart when he acted like a gentleman.

You were falling—deep and hard for Jungwon. You fell into the charm of his smile, his kindness and how he could see past your walls and into your heart.

In that moment, you realized that this wasn’t admiration or friendship, it was something you couldn’t deny anymore.

You were falling for Yang Jungwon.

You were sure of this, you’ve been wanting to do it for a long time. Well, it’s been a week since you were at the restaurant with Jungwon, only growing closer to the boy from there. Every shared glance, every laugh, every late night text only made your heart flutter even more. 

Nothing changed after the project, he still looked at you with that stupid smile on his face and he still called you pretty—like he meant it. Your heart only grew from all the useless but silly conversations you’d have with the boy. You couldn’t ignore that feeling in your heart anymore, it was too hard for you to turn a blind eye towards. 

Minju saw how you got all cheery around him, she saw how you let your guard down around him. How your smiles were softer, less practiced. You saw how you were growing closer and closer to the boy. It was dangerous how you were letting him in your heart. 

It was reckless even. The kind of recklessness that made you put your guard down and the kind that made you ignore the little voice in your head that told you to take a step back and remember who you were. The ‘you’ that was practiced and perfect. But you didn’t want that, not anymore. 

Not when Yang Jungwon made you feel alive and free. You wanted to live in the moments when Jungwon’s gaze lingered on you for a little longer. You cherished all those times he called you ‘pretty’ even though you acted annoyed whenever he said it. You replayed the moment where you realized you fell for the boy under the dimly lit pho restaurant. 

So you decided, you made up your mind that you weren’t keeping these lingering feelings floating anymore. You had to tell him. To tell him the words that had been breaking out of your heart, to tell him that your heart belonged to him from now on. To show him that it was Jungwon who’d you think about at the end of each day.

That’s how you ended up in front of the basketball court. The court seemed empty as the  sunlight spilled on the shiny floor. You could hear the thump of the basketball on the hard floors echoing throughout the room with the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the floor. 

You watched Jungwon from afar. He looked effortlessly good as always. The strands of his bangs stuck to his forehead as his uniform sleeves were rolled up, showing off his lean forearms. His shirt stuck to his chest, slightly damp with sweat. He seemed immersed in playing it by himself. 

He didn’t notice you—not until you called his name. 

His eyes lightened as he smiled wide. Before catching the ball he bounced it one more time. “Pretty!” He lifted his head, grinning as you headed to him. 

“Why’re you here?” He started dribbling again, slowly. “You play basketball?”

You giggled softly as you shook your head, “No. I haven’t ever.” He smiled, looking at your face before successfully throwing the ball in the hoop.

“I came here to talk actually.” You looked at the floor, not being able to look at the boy.

“Ah, figured.” He chuckled as he dribbled the ball in rhythmic beats. “Shoot.”

This was it. This was your shot.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner sometime.” You let out, struggling through the uneasy feeling that rested in your stomach.

“Sure pretty, we can go to that pho restaurant or what about the new place that serves steak?” He smiled, his eyes warm as a day.

“Jungwon, I meant as a date. A romantic one.” You quickly added before you could regret everything. “I like you.” You swallowed.

What fell after your confession was complete silence. 

“Y/n…” His voice was gentle, not louder than a whisper. He hesitated to find the words, knowing that it would break you.

“I’m sorry,” This was all he could say. It was all Jungwon could do to let you down. The words struck to your heart like a knife as it pierced through.

You bit your lips finally looking at him. You prayed to God that he wouldn’t see the tears that threatened to pour out of your eyes. Jungwon froze, not knowing what to do. 

He came closer, his hand twitched as it tried to reach out to you, but you backed away. You backed away from the pain before it would make you crumble right in front of the boy you liked. 

“Forget it, I should go.” You muttered, turning your heel before that crack in your voice would betray you. 

“Y/n…” Jungwon called out your name, his voice softer now.

You walked out the court, without looking back. The ache in your throat now burned with a sour taste. Your chest heaved as you tried not to let the tears from your eyes fall. Blinking hard, the echoes of the pain that struck your heart in the court kept lingering around your heart; a mockery of your failure.

You didn’t know what you hated the most, how he let you down so slowly or how he still said your name like it meant everything to him. He held your heart in his hands and carelessly let it slip, not knowing how easily you gave it to him—under the dim lights of the pho restaurant, when he seemed to be your boy just for a moment.

It was never supposed to be like this, you weren’t supposed to fall for him in the first place.

You were the lucky girl, lucky at every turn; with your friends, with your grades and with everything that mattered. So why not with him? Why didn’t he fall for your charms like everyone else did? Why did he slip through the cracks of your highly built walls? Why did he see past that perfected smile?

Jungwon, the only one that saw you for who you were now recklessly dangled your heart around him. He never seemed to like you, something you couldn’t understand why. He was your ‘friend’. But somewhere between the endless study sessions, the lines of friendship and love began to blur. You seemed confused on why a friend would listen to every single detail of your silly stories or walk you home, giving you his jacket even if he was cold. 

You wanted to laugh at yourself. How foolishly in love were you. How naive. The kindness he’d lend over to you was soon mistaken for love. The sparkle in his eyes you noticed was just the affection for a friend. Surely it was.

Luck carried you through everything. Through the hardest moments, when you thought you couldn’t get out of a situation it would swoop in and save you. But the last thing you felt right now was lucky. Soon realizing that love didn’t come with luck, it never did. 

But Gosh, did it hurt to learn it this way. 

Minju and Moka knew it from the moment you walked to them out on the field with a dull face. It was never like you to carry yourself with such a monotonous face, that’s basically coming empty handed to someone’s birthday. What made them terrified was how your perfect posture had a slight hunch to it and the perfect pretty girl plopped herself beside them, with a sigh.

You actually sighed. 

Minju gulped, “Is it, like, safe to talk to you?” She slowly asked, not knowing what she might’ve gotten herself into. 

You shot her a glance, unknowingly a mean one which she mentally winced at. You were just tired. Tired from crying yourself to sleep last night and tired from the heartbreak that stupid boy caused. 

“You’re not going to explode right now, yeah?” Moka added, praying to God that she defuses the time bomb in front of her before it nukes the entire class. Moka bit her lip, knowing she had so much to live for and she couldn't let her life be cut short. Dramatic? yes, but also very needed when you sat there with a sulky pout.

“Why are you guys acting like someone died?” You sighed again. Gosh, they were done for.

“Well, did they?” Minju blinked looking at your state.

“Yes, me.” You said shortly before letting your head rest in your hands.

“Mind telling your best friends what happened?” Moka titled her head, trying to get a better look at your covered face. 

You gulped, you would have to tell them some time. You raised your head as you finally looked at them. This is so embarrassing, your face turned red at the thought.

“Jungwon…rejectedme.” You said, fast enough hoping they didn’t hear.

“Wait—what?” Minju spoke up, double checking if she heard that correctly.

“Jungwon, the boy I liked, rejected me! There, I said it. That’s what happened, he rejected me and continued playing fucking basketball like it was no big deal.” You were sure your face was red by now, not by embarrassment but anger. Gosh, if you could see that brown haired boy just to choke him.

“Hold on, you liked him?” Moka said, mindlessly not knowing about the fact that you’ve been crushing hard on the boy for the past few weeks.

Minju nudged Moka’s shoulder at her obliviousness, “You idiot! How didn’t you realize? She was practically foaming whenever he was around.”

“Yeah well it doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that does is shooting balls in fucking hoops, apparently.” You groaned, the memories of the days before flushing straight to your mind.

Gosh, you were never going to live that down. 

Minju saw your sulky face, her face roamed over your eyes. “No way, don’t tell me you actually cried.” She said, a pout forming on her face.

You blinked at her. “No I didn’t.” You said, lying straight out of your teeth.

“You did!” Moka joined in, putting her hand over your shoulder for some form of comfort. “He’s seriously got you wrapped around his finger. I never thought I'd see Y/N be so down  bad.” 

“I don’t care anymore.” You sulked as you buried your face in your palms. 

“Cheer up, you don’t need him anyway.” Minju reassured you, rubbing your arm.  “He’s just a boy, it’s his loss he lost the prettiest girl.”

Prettiest girl. That name struck straight through your heart without any warning. The name you blushed at every time it left his mouth now only stung. It echoed with the familiarity that you hated now.

Jungwon had said it so many times that it was your second name by now, but what you never knew was he meant it every single time. Jungwon always liked being honest. He said what was on his mind. Whenever he called you pretty, he meant it with his heart. You felt it too, his sincerity, how genuine he was when he talked to you. 

And for a while, you believed it. You believed that maybe at least in his eyes, you were pretty. Not in the way that most people see you. Not how passerbys take a double look at you, but you as a whole. He saw a pretty girl when you were the real you. The nickname that he gave you now haunts you—a faint reminder of how he looked at you like you were his, how gentle he was with you, how he let you down slowly. 

Now you were sitting with your friends on the field, wallowing on how he crushed you. Somehow, through these past few days, he never really left your mind. Jungwon always found a place at the back of your mind, lingering around with the pain of your heartbreak as well.

Soon after, Minju and Moka left you on the bleachers by yourself after you asked for some time alone. The sun peaked behind the clouds as the breeze ran through your hair.

The field was quiet except for some distant chatter of boys wrapping up on football practice. You sat there, your mind still dazed as your chin rested on your palm. You weren’t one to ever sulk, especially over some stupid boy, yet here you were blankly looking at the grass in front of you without a thought in your head. 

Right then, you heard soft thumps against the grass. As you lifted your head up to see who was walking towards you, your heart skipped a beat. It was Jungwon, in all his glory heading to you like he didn’t just break your heart days ago.

“What’s with the pouty face?” He asked, taking a seat next to you with that soft smile of his.

You huffed, looking away. “Don’t act like you don’t know.” Your voice was low and a little too sharp.

His mouth twitched upwards, holding back a laugh as he raised his eyebrow. “Still hung up on that, I see.” He chuckles softly, looking ahead at the sun.

“Well, it’d be surprising if I didn’t.” You sighed, considering the fact that it literally just happened a few days ago. “I realized I can’t move on fast.”

“That happens. Everyone has their own pace. It’s human nature.” Jungwon comforted you without even knowing it, when he was the reason you put on a pout the whole day.

“Gosh,” You groaned out of annoyance. “Why do you have to be so nice all the time?” Looking at Jungwon at your left, he greeted you with a laugh at your huffy presence.

“You know, it’d help if you were a jerk so I could move on. Then I'd have something to hate about you.” 

Jungwon pouted, pressing his hands to his chest above his heart. “You wound me, pretty.” He chuckles, not knowing how many butterflies were reborn in your stomach once again at the sound of the nickname. “I can’t be rude to anyone who matters to me.”

The lump that used to rest in your throat was brought back again. Gosh, if he could only stop making you fall deeper for him. Jungwon, having a way with his words did not help one bit. You went quiet, there was prolonged silence between the two of you as you glanced at him long enough for him to do the same. 

You broke the silence with a whisper, “Then why say no?”

Jungwon only sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair, knowing the question would come sooner or later. Letting out a slow breath, he collected the right words to say to you—he only hoped that it would reach you as some form of comfort.

“Y/N, I’ve always liked you…since the day you rejected me without even me confessing.” He softly chuckled at the memory. “You were so interesting, such a pretty personality. I could feel your passion about everything you liked, but you hid it. You keep away from being true to yourself. What you show to people isn’t the real you. That made me sad, I kept thinking ‘how come such a pretty girl like you have to hide her personality when it’s so beautiful?’” Jungwon saw right through you, he read you like a book when others didn’t bother to look past your cover.

“It must be exhausting,” He continued with sincerity. “Always meeting other people’s expectations of you. You must’ve lost yourself through it, it feels too much sometimes…right?” You only slowly nodded at his words.

You felt seen now. You felt as if he had truly looked beyond the practiced smiles to the real girl who was underneath the rehearsals of being perfect. 

“I guess, I’ve been doing it for so long I didn’t realize it myself.”

“Figured. You didn’t have anyone to notice it. I…wanted to see you for who you are. Not the girl that other people expect to see.” Your heart thudded like a drum, you swear you just fell for him again.

“You rejected me…because of this?” You asked, tilting your head in which he chuckled at the question.

His silence answered your question as you put your head in your hands again, “Gosh, I’m so pathetic. I thought you hated me. I got too ahead of myself.”

He propped his hands against the bleachers as he leaned back. “I like you like this.”

“You’re all sulky, frustrated. It’s not pathetic. It’s human. It’s the real Y/N that I like. The one that makes stupid jokes which I still laugh at.” He joked, trying to see you slip a smile for once.

You shot a glare at him playfully as you shoved his arm. “You don’t get my humour.”

“No one does. You’re unique. Own it.” He quickly added, smiling. “It's the you that I liked all along.”

You felt your lips part, your cheeks warm as that same uneasy feeling rested in your stomach. The smile on his face lingered on your mind for a bit too long. 

“Cheer up, pretty.” Jungwon said, standing up and turning towards you. He reached out to ruffle your hair before he bid you goodbye. With that he left the field, leaving you alone on the bleachers. 

You stayed seated for a moment longer, the conversation replayed in your head. The fresh air against your skin left a reminder of the real you, the one you had to discover hiding down the practiced laughs. You let your shoulders loosen, closing your eyes. You could only hear the birds chirping and the distant buzz of the school pupils. For once, your heart felt at peace. The calm you didn’t know that you had been searching for. 

You sit with yourself at that thought. The thought of what it would feel like to be the real you in front of everyone; your friends, your peers, Jungwon. You felt something shift, it was small–you could almost miss it–yet it was meaningful. 

Maybe, it was okay to be stubborn, frustrated, messy. Maybe that was who you wanted to be from now on. 

You didn’t even realize the days that passed after you talked with Jungwon on the field. Not knowing if it was Jungwon’s words replaying in your head or how your heart slowly brought its pieces back together, but you slowly started to change. Change into the person who you longed to be. Something snapped in you to break free from the rigidness that had been holding you back.

At first, it was small. You could almost miss it, but it meant something. You didn’t have that faint smile at all times. You allowed yourself to be frustrated, happy, surprised; every emotion in the book without caring about what other people would think.

You didn’t force your laughter nor did you wait for approval from your peers. No, you didn’t care about that anymore. The world didn’t end when you people didn’t smile back at you or when you didn’t get the last banana milk in the canteen. 

You kept to yourself sometimes, not wanting to be the centre of attention all the time. Somehow, it felt lighter—almost as if the load on your back had been taken off you. Not filling the silence all the time felt almost freeing, not worried at night before you go to bed on what people might’ve thought of you today and what you could do to become better for tomorrow. 

Jungwon noticed, of course he did. He was the first person to. His eyes always lingered around you whenever you weren’t paying attention. His eyes were soft, filled with something more than love just for a friend. 

He found himself impressed when you sat next to him as always in your English Literature class, with just a smile and nothing more. Small conversations were made about the weather or the notes about the class—but it wasn’t anything practiced, nothing rehearsed. The stray strand of hair that you always tucked behind your ear was now left alone. It didn’t bother you when it fell on your cheek, it wasn’t like how it was used to—you didn’t have to spend an hour everyday correcting each of your imperfections in the mirror. 

Jungwon only smiled at your changed attitude. And somehow, the anxiousness that rested in your stomach didn’t exist anymore. Your nervousness when you were around him was now replaced with comfort. The softness that was barely there before now began to grow as Jungwon and you pulled to each other closer than before, without even noticing.

It wasn’t just in class. It was everywhere. The change inside you followed you to the cafe you regularly visit or through the school hallways. Just as you were now, walking through the halls with your hands shoved in the pockets of your hoodie. Jungwon had waved at you to come over. Before you could reach him, your foot slipped on an uneven tile causing you to fall towards the ground with a quiet thud. 

Normally, you would’ve panicked, quickly standing up worried if your peers saw your embarrassing moment. You would’ve checked multiple times for wounds that would leave a scar and if you did, you’d worry endless nights about the scar that’s left on your skin, searching for medication days on end to get rid of it.

But you, you were just sitting on the ground, a scraped knee and nothing in your mind other than if you were okay. Jungwon quickly ran to your side, yelling your name.

“Are you okay?” He asked, crouching down to see if you had any wounds on you.

He checked your knee, his hand coming in contact with your leg as he leaned in to get a better look with a worried face. But all you could do was laugh. You laughed right in Jungwon's face about your clumsiness. 

Jungwon looked up at you with confusion, “Gosh, I’m so clumsy.” You let out an airy laugh as you looked at your wound.

The boy stared at you with disbelief. You were hurt yet you were laughing. He blinked before letting out a small chuckle with you. “You know, when I asked you to be the real you, I didn’t mean clumsy.”

“What if the real me is clumsy?” You asked with a giggle, not caring about the wound anymore.

His fingers brushed around the wound over your knee, knowing you needed a bandage. But then he looked at you with a smile, “Then I’d have to support it. I’ll take care of you every time you fall.”

Shoot, you were blushing. Really hard. 

You gulped, trying to dismiss what he said. Though you couldn’t get his boyish smile out of your head. How he touched you with utmost care, like you’d break anytime. His gentleness still plucked your heartstrings, your face slightly flushed. 

He stood up, lending you his hand for you to get up as well. Jungwon tugged you up with ease. You were back on your feet again, the pain has now subsided and was replaced by the warmth that Jungwon left behind. You swore your heart skipped a beat when his hand lingered for too long against yours before he let go. 

He brought you to an empty classroom and made you sit on one of the chairs. Jungwon crouched down and rummaged through his bag for a bandage. He glanced at you for a moment after ripping open the bandage. You slightly winced at the pressure when he pressed it on your knee.

“You’re okay?” He asked, slight concern lacing his voice.

You only nodded with a smile. You were okay really, now all better from the boy who was in front of you, patching you up.

“You should watch where you’re going next time, pretty. I don’t want you to fall again.” He chuckled as you stood up from the chair. “You can walk right?”

“Yes, Wonie. I didn’t break my ankle. It’s just a scratch.” You giggled, not even realizing that nickname found your lips again.

He broke eye contact, looking away with a laugh. Was he…blushing? The faint flush on his cheeks gave it away. You could die in peace now. You finally made the boy who always made you nervous blush. You always wondered how Jungwon would look like this, a blushing mess. Now you finally got to see it in an empty classroom, and it was a sight to see.

“Yeah, well I was just checking if I had to give you a piggyback ride to your house.” He added, his usual softness mixed with playfulness laced in voice.

You giggled, shaking your head. “You think I’m that helpless?”

Jungwon shrugged, “You never know. You’re clumsy enough to need it” 

You scoffed as you shoved Jungwon’s arm at his joke, though the smile stayed on your face. Jungwon just smiled, happy to see you smile again. Even if it was his teasing or his stupid jokes, he still brought out the you he wanted to see for the longest and that was all that mattered.

The sting in your knee had disappeared. You realized it wasn’t that bad to have someone be on your side always, through your frustrated pouts, embarrassing moments or when you got hurt.

It wasn’t so bad when there was someone like him being there to help you whenever you needed it. His actions more than his words made you feel that warm sensation tingling around your stomach, you felt something that you were yet to discover. 

And for the first time in a long time, you finally knew what it meant to be true to yourself.

You decided that today was the day your luck had finally been against you. The rain poured in front of you, making you stranded inside the school entrance. You sighed, hoping the rain would magically stop until you walked towards your house. The sleeves on your hoodie were slightly damp from the raindrops that had somehow got behind the roof that was protecting you from the rain ahead of you. 

You crossed your arms, bringing them close to your chest—too stubborn to walk home in the rain. But the cold made you move a step forward, your body knew your dignity could wait. 

Then an umbrella appeared over your head. 

With the sudden dullness over your head, you looked to your side to see Jungwon hovering one above you. The stands of his hair stuck to his forward as his uniform sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, his tie hung loose.

“Genuinely, what would you do without me?” Jungwon dramatically said with a smile. 

You giggled, “Jungwon, I thought you left.” You said, coming closer to him.

“Nah, I had some work left so I stayed at the library. Didn’t realize it was raining. Thank God I stole this umbrella from Riki.” 

The soft sounds of your laugh escaped your lips, you swore you could see Jungwon’s eyes light up. He props the umbrella more towards you, making you come closer.

“Thanks for stealing his umbrella. You didn’t have to, but whatever makes me walk home not soaked.” You say, pulling your hoodie sleeves further down your hands to keep you warm.

“Would I do anything less?” His voice seemed too casual for the way he showed he cared about you more than anyone else. 

Before you could process anything he said, he added. “Cmon, let me walk you home. Can’t let a pretty girl go alone in the rain.”

You blushed at his comment and came closer to him so you both could equally share the rain. You both stepped through the pouring streets and across the street, his arm brushing over you a few times just enough to make your heart race.

The rain around you filled the silence in between you both. It wasn’t awkward, it was almost comforting. All you could focus was on the drops falling on the ground and how dangerously close Jungwon was to you.

“You hungry?” Jungwon asked, his voice cutting through the rain.

By now the rain had calmed down, not pouring anymore. You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes as you nodded. Without a second thought, he steered his way to the nearby tteokbokki stand. The old lady behind the stand smiled warmly at you two as Jungwon took out his wallet to pay for one portion of tteokbokki as he couldn’t eat with his hands busy holding an umbrella. 

“I’m not hungry anyways,” He says before giving the cup to you, happy at the fact that he’ll be sending you home with a full stomach.

You blew onto a piece before taking a bite. Your eyes widened at the flavours melting into your tongue which spread the warmth in your chest, but it was nothing compared to the way Jungwon looked at you with his doe eyes and comforting smile.

“You should eat too…” You said, blowing onto another piece before holding it out to him. He was taken aback for a moment, but slowly leaned in, taking a piece from your skewer.

You giggled at his lips which were covered in the sauce from the rice cakes. “You got something,” Now it was your turn to do the same to him. You held your hand out and wiped his lips before licking it away from your thumb. Now you got to see how hardly he was blushing, looking everywhere but you. Cute, you thought. 

The world around you both seemed to shrink. Nothing really mattered as long as he was next to you, sharing the warmth under his tiny umbrella. The rain had seemed to stop completely, the smell of the fresh water comforted you as the sun hid behind the clouds. It was beginning to set as you both walked through the streets side by side. You knew you had to savour every moment you had with him. 

Before you knew it, you were already at your house, standing in front of your door and Jungwon entered through your gate, shaking his umbrella a bit to dry it. He ruffled his hair, the wet stands now free, hanging over his forehead. 

“Thank you…for not letting me go home soaked.” You said, looking at him with just a smile. 

“I’d do it for the girl I like.” His lips slipped out the words before he could stop himself. 

Your heart skipped a beat as Jungwon realized what he said. You blinked, checking if you heard that correct or were you imagining it all along. But the blush on Jungwon’s cheeks said otherwise. 

You stepped closer to him, but you didn’t dare say a word. He chuckles, knowing he’d have to do this anyway. Jungwon bit his lip, knowing he was confessing to the girl he adored, this wasn’t a dream. The boy who you rejected on the first day of meeting him is finally confessing to you. 

“Pretty, I like you. I think I can say it properly now. I think that day in the field made me fall harder, you really changed. You are yourself and I can’t even begin to explain how happy I am to see the pretty girl being her true self, I can’t believe I’m standing in front of you, confessing. Just… don’t reject me this time, yeah?” Jungwon chuckled, leaning in.

His hand reached out to cup your face, soft against your cold skin. You could only giggle at his words and shake your head, you wouldn’t dare to reject the sweet boy in front of you. For the first time, from the countless confessions you’ve received, you’re finally accepting one. One that you don’t regret one bit. 

“I couldn’t imagine saying no.” You whispered, your voice like silk which made Jungwon lose his mind. 

He smiled, his thoughts portrayed through his eyes. “Pretty, pretty girl…” His face was inches away from you, you could feel his breath on yours. “My pretty girl.”

That’s all he said before his lips met yours in a sweet kiss under the dim glow of the streetlight that entered your little porch. Time seemed to slow, the only thing that existed now was the warmth of his lips.

Jungwon’s hand snaked around your waist as you tugged on his tie, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, Jungwon wanted you to know how much he needed you, how much he wanted you. And for the first time, everything left unsaid was poured into the kiss; quick glances, soft touches and quiet giggles melted into the kiss you both shared.

When he finally pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath, you still stayed still, not taking your hands away from his chest. Jungwon rested his forehead against yours. 

“You’re a good kisser.” He chuckled, giving another quick yet firm peck against your lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Wonie.” Smiling at his face, your eyes made him weak in the knees.

He finally stepped back, he gave you the space you needed. But you wished he stayed in your arms for a moment longer, or maybe for however long forever was. 

“My mom’s probably waiting for me inside.” You putted, knowing he had to leave.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s best I leave.” He looked up at the night sky, knowing it was late. “It’s getting dark out.”

You titled your head, your eyes speaking for you. Jungwon could only try and calm his heart down when you looked at him like that. 

“Cmon pretty, how am I supposed to leave if you look at me that way?” Jungwon leaned in again to give you a kiss again. This time it was longer than his peck, but still had the same impact making you giggle.

“You should still go, it’s late.” You said, pushing him away from your lips. 

Truth is, now that he got a taste, he can’t let go. You were his weakness, your lips his addiction. Everything about you made him go crazy. The feelings that he kept inside his heart was finally out to the girl who had been real with him all this time. The only girl he saw past that façade. The girl he fell hard for. 

He said a small goodnight before stepping back. He gave you a small smile and turned around to leave. Jungwon paused mid way, turning around faster than he could think and came jogging back to your doorstep to steal another kiss from you, he couldn’t get enough.

“Last one,” He said, holding your waist as he gave two urgent pecks as you giggled. Jungwon laughed with you, knowing he was a goner.

“Jungwon!” You whined, your hands pressed against his chest as he leaned back. He groaned slightly, getting off your doorstep and back into the front yard. 

“Goodnight, for real this time, pretty.” He whispered with a smile.

“Goodnight Wonie.” You breathed, your heart still racing, mind still floating. 

You stood right on the doorstep where Jungwon had kissed you senseless long after Jungwon disappeared into the street. You could still feel the faint memory of his lips on yours.

Thinking about the way he looked at you, the way he kissed you and held you close. You knew without a doubt that your heart would never be the same. Your heart would flutter every time you thought about him, bringing you back to the night where you kissed the boy you cherished the most.

Dating Jungwon was nothing like you had expected. He only grew more playful and childish. The young boy started opening himself up to you, only pulling you closer to his heart. You could be yourself with him, you didn’t have to rehearse anything; always saying what was on your mind.

You were yourself, the one he wanted to be with. He wanted to be with the girl that didn’t pretend anymore. He loved that about you more than anyone. He loved your laugh, how you didn’t hold back anymore. He loved how you didn’t bother having a perfect mask on all the time, he noticed it all. 

As days passed, the small kisses you shared with him, the silly moments you had were the ones you treasured the most. It wasn’t anything grand, you could almost miss it, but that’s what made you fall harder and harder for him. 

Everyone noticed. You seemed happier, more real—not an unreachable doll that everyone could only admire. They whispered about the subtle glow on your face, the smile that you hid from the world. How Jungwon held your hand firm, never letting it go—you both were now practically joined at the hip. 

Of course, Minju and Moka were the first to know. You practically ran to your bedroom to call them and stay up at night to talk about every little detail. How the sun was barely peaking through the clouds, how Jungwon called you ‘his pretty girl’, how he kissed you. 

Jake and Riki teased Jungwon on how he smiled like a dork every time you walked by, giving him a blowing kiss. They were merciless with Jungwon, calling him ‘loverboy’ and ‘down bad’ every five minutes. You knew they were exaggerating, but for a minute you could almost believe them with the way he looked at you.

You loved how he looked at you, how he kissed you. Everything about him. Most of all, you loved walks with him. The ones with quiet and silly jokes whispered under the sunny sky. One of them, you and Jungwon shared a laugh with some stupid anecdote you told him before. 

Jungwon held your hand as he swung them back and forth slightly, “You’re such a slow walker.” 

“Slow?...Well excuse me, but I wanted to spend some more time with my boyfriend.” You playfully pouted as you glanced at him. “Don’t you wanna?”

He squeezed your hand, “‘Course I do, pretty. I thought you would be giving that excuse of being clumsy again for your slow walking.”

“Well, that too.” You giggled as you leaned into his warmth.

“But you’re one to talk. You almost fell, looking at me that day near the tteokbokki stand.” You joked, remembering his clumsy trip that day he kissed you.

“Alright, that was a minor slip! You said you didn’t even see it.” He whined, his voice made your heart flutter, admiring the adorable boy in front of you. “Plus, I was just trying to see if my pretty girl wasn’t burning her tongue.”

“Gosh, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love.” He added, his smooth talk making your knees weak. 

You shoved him playfully, “Jungwon! How do you even come up with this?” You giggled, trying to not meet his gaze, so he wouldn’t see your flushed face.

“Guess you just make me cheesy.” He smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, getting a better look at your face.

Your cheeks burned at his touch as he leaned in to peck your cheek. “You’re insufferable.”

“Still here though,” He said, gripping your hand again to continue walking down the street again.

“Sometimes, I wonder how I even managed to make you fall for me.” You smiled at the memories you both created ever since that day in your English Literature class. “Guess I got lucky after all.”

His gaze was soft and steady, his eyes carrying everything as he looked at you for a moment. “No, this time you weren’t lucky.” He mumbled, his voice certain. “This time, it was just you.” 

For once, you didn’t have a smart comeback up your sleeve, nothing to throw back at him. You only smiled, admiring how much love he had for you. Instead you just let the silence speak as you lightly squeezed his hand. His shoulder brushed against yours as you both conversed with anything that was on your mind, walking along the dimly lit street. 

You couldn’t help but smile as his hand held you tighter, almost afraid that you would let go. But you wouldn’t dare. Not when your heart already belonged to you. Maybe you used to believe that your life was set in luck, it was already prepared. But with Jungwon, it was different. It wasn’t by anything that you expected nor was it luck, it was his choice, it was yours. To choose each other every time. 

lucky girl syndrome tags . @ikeulove @hollxe1 @llearlert @blooqz @maewphoria @ysenik

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“lastly, y/n and riki.” your history teacher’s eyes glanced over to you and the boy who sat a few rows behind before looking back at the big stack of papers sitting on his desk.

your jaw dropped.

there was no way you were working with him—the boy you’d set on fire if given the chance. absolutely not. you slowly turned your head around, dreading the sight behind you.

and there he was, with the same irritated expression as you. the attitude was through the roof. whatever. the sooner this was over, the better.

over the past few weeks, you both barely made it work. with snarky comments being passed every minute and riki throwing paper balls at you just to annoy the life out of you, you ended up doing the majority of the work.

every meeting ended with you storming out after having enough of the boy’s comments—or him leaving you stranded after calling you every insult in the book.

you swore your head was about to explode at the sight of him.

but one day, something shifted. you were tireder than usual, your eyes heavy and your head in a daze.

you weren’t bickering—well, not really. it was quieter, which made riki lift his head, wondering why you hadn’t snapped back at his usual remarks.

your fingers hesitated with every word you typed, a lump forming in your throat. everything was already going wrong, and somehow riki made it worse.

“so, we should lead with the causes of the depression—” your voice was shaky.

“that’s boring. i’d fall asleep if i listened to that.”

“well, do you have something better in mind?” you asked, trying to keep your composure.

“no… i don’t know. just anything but that.” riki didn’t really have a problem with it. he just wanted to provoke you. he wanted a reaction.

“riki, this is due in two days.” you sighed, fingers running through your hair.

“so that means i don’t get a say in this?” he said, leaning forward.

“not when you’re slowing us down.”

he clicked his tongue. “see, this is what i hate about you. that fucking attitude. you think you’re better than everyone else so you put them down and act like they don’t matter.”

something inside you twisted. “what? i don’t think that—”

“yeah? then why act like everyone else is beneath you? you never even listen. you don’t care. you think you’re right—you think you’re perfect. but you’re not. i could see your flaws from a mile away.” he scoffed.

you looked down now, not having anything to say. you couldn’t look him in the eye. not anymore.

riki didn’t like that. riki hated that. he hated how you didn’t have a comeback up your sleeve. he hated the silence gnawing at him.

“i don’t… want us to fail.” your voice broke.

fuck.

“i try to do what’s best,” you said, not letting the tears fall. not in front of him. “i’m sorry.”

you sniffed.

and that’s when riki knew he fucked up.

he watched you pack your bag in a rush and leave the library before he saw you break into a sob.

riki shifted slightly in his seat, the alarms in his head ringing when he saw you walk away. before he knew it, he was chasing you down the empty hallway.

“fuck, wait,” he said, catching up.

riki grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking further.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asked, voice soft, as you slowly turned towards him, your head still facing the ground.

“i tried to be nice, riki.” you let out a sob. “you make it so hard.”

“i work so hard and you act like it’s a joke. i’m not a joke.”

he didn’t say anything for a minute. he just stood there, watching as you let out silent sobs, trying not to fully break down in front of him.

and in that moment, he really saw you. not the girl who fought over maths results or stole the last milk carton—the real you. it wasn’t his enemy standing in front of him. it was a girl he saw clearer than anyone else.

a person he noticed.

a person he made cry.

“i know you do,” he finally said. “i know.” and with that, he pulled you gently by the hand and embraced you.

riki was hugging you—your sworn enemy since freshman year. his tall frame engulfed you as he rubbed your back, trying to soothe you.

that was all it took for you to break. you started sobbing, his shirt now wet with your tears as he held you tighter, muffled cries spilling out into his chest.

he couldn’t believe he made you cry. and the worst part? he hated himself for it. and he didn’t know why.

riki always imagined hurting you. he always thought seeing you cry would give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d won. so now that you were right in front of him, hurling your eyes out—giving him exactly what he wanted—why did he feel like the biggest jerk alive?

he wanted to kiss all those tears away. he’d die to see that smile he once claimed to hate appear on your face again.

neither of you pulled away. both of you leaned into each other’s warmth—a silent, lingering embrace that neither of you knew you needed until it happened.

sure, nishimura riki hated you. he hated that smile on your face and those eyes that glowed in the sunlight. but he was the only one who noticed. he noticed how your face lit up when things worked out in your favour and how your eyes gleamed when you beat him. he was the only one who noticed everything about you.

and that didn’t feel like hate.

not anymore. not with you in his arms, your face pressed against his chest.

it was something far scarier than he had imagined.

something that made his blood run cold and his heart beat twice as fast.

nishimura riki was falling for you.

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