lady lady

"Have you ever tried it? Scuba diving, I mean," he asked, taking a quick sidelong glance at her as he pocketed his wallet and phone from the console. He wondered, briefly, if she could pick up on the hopefulness that was in his tone. He wouldn't ask her outright to come with him, of course not. Tae-oh was still mindful about keeping a professional relationship between them, though there was a bigger part of him that wished he didn't need to. But they both entered into this 'relationship' under the agreement that it would inevitably end as soon as they were done filming, and it wasn't her fault that his own feelings decided to betray him. Still, he thought, would it be so bad if she found out? "I'm glad," he said in response. A part of him wanted to ask if that was truly how she felt, or just her agreeing to the desired result of the pr stunt their agencies had both put them up to. The words didn't come out, though, and instead, he made his way out of the vehicle, rushing over to the other side so he could open the door for her. "I heard they have great seafood here." A tidbit he'd picked up from his assistant. "I hope you like seafood." While their current predicament was mostly all arranged, he was genuinely curious to know.

"What can I say? I'm dedicated." That and he also had the shortest fuse amongst his teammates. It was a well-known fact that Park Minjun had the tendency to get heated during games, and he'd been on the receiving end of their coach's lectures more than once. But what Minjun lacked in calm, he made up for in skill. He was great on the field, was good with the team, and, like he said, he was dedicated. "And hey, I didn't start it this time." A serious look crossed his features. "In fact, I could tell I was already pretty badly injured before the fight even started." It didn't help his cause, since it did just make his injury worse. He wanted to protest, that he was completely fine and he'd recover quickly, but Minjun knew better than to say anything. She was the expert in this, after all. He tilted his head as he regarded her, lips pursed in amusement. "See, this is why you should just give me your number," he said, unrelenting. "Wouldn't it be so much easier if the next time I get an injury, the medic would already have my whole history?" Not to mention he'd have her in his contacts.

"Just a cake," he echoed, a short, humorless laugh following his words. "Of course, it's just a cake." Truthfully, he couldn't understand why he felt so strongly about this. He could just walk away, pretend like none of it ever happened. The evening would pass, and the next day, his birthday would be over. That was what he wanted to do -- in fact, he knew it was what he needed to do. He didn't want them to fight; didn't want her to be on the receiving end of his anger. But Junho was hurt and angry. At Yeonju, sure, but also at himself. He couldn't believe he could still feel like this even after all those years.

the traditional wedding structure was fucking stupid. typically, lennon wouldn't care. live and let live, make peace with the things you can't change, etc. she wasn't even the grudge type, swear it ! but she was heavily reconsidering such a pious stance at the sight of the other. hand tightened around her champagne flute, tight enough that she worried it would shatter in her fist. too early in the welcome party, in the extensive timeline of festivities across the next three weeks, to dip away and black out at the hotel bar. a huff. a roll of eyes. "shouldn't you be pacing yourself ? they're going to expect you to make a speech later."

Adam couldn't remember what drink he was on -- third, fourth? No, no, surely it was only his second. Though the way his vision blurred would say otherwise, and the flush of his cheeks was definitely a dead giveaway that he was, in fact, more inebriated than he'd cared to admit. Still, it was a party, right? And if he was to get through the festivities of the evening with his sanity intact, he was definitely going to need more than what he'd already consumed. Besides, what was the point of an open bar? He turned at the sound of her voice. "Your lack of faith in my ability to deliver an amazing speech is astounding," he said in response. "In fact, I already told Patrick the only way I'm doing that speech is with alcohol in my system."

"Well, you know me," Araya started, lifting a shoulder in a casual shrug as she took a piece of vegetable and placed it on her plate. "I like to hold on to my grudges and tend to them as they grow. Like little pets." A satisfied smile appeared on her face at her own remark. She wasn't going to admit it anytime soon, not about to give her mom the chance to say 'I told you so' this early on in their trip, but she had missed this. They'd spent so much time traveling for her father's work, and this was the only place they'd stayed long enough for her to make lasting friendships. Despite their relationship being marked by bickering, Araya had some fond memories of Lu Heng. "Details, details." She waved her hand dismissively, though she kept her movement as small as possible to keep from attracting the unwanted attention of the elder. "You still lost, which means you owe me ice cream." A grin before her eyes quickly flickered around the room. "How is your sister, by the way? I remember her being way nicer than you are."

"Not if I can help it, no." Her subtle humorous laughter seemed to be reserved only for him. To her surprise, the back-and-forth so far had been interesting and refreshing, not too presumptious which would've been good enough reason to cut it short. Hence, why she was still there and not planning on stepping backwards towards her group of friends; not that they would've wanted her to, either. "Wasn't left with the feeling that you need my explicit appreciation. With you being a rockstar and all, I though you had so much of it that eventually it loses its taste. Or maybe, you're just not there yet? Hope that's not too forward of me to say." Marina didn't consider herself well versed in the technicalities or the hard work that stood behind a successful album or the production of a live show, but she did know that perfecting everything he listed off was something to take pride in. "I think 'miss' has a nice ring to it for now, if you don't mind." Offering another bright smile, the brunette pushed away the now empty cocktail before lifting an eyebrow and leaning towards him. "And what kind of reason would that be? My interest is slightly peaked."

"Ah, but didn't you hear?" The mischevious glint in his eye became more prominent as he leaned forward, elbows resting against the table now, as if she was some co-conspirator of his. "Artists are notorious for thriving off of validation. Especially from beautiful women." His smile widened, head tilting ever so slightly as he regarded her. Javier wasn't above using his charm -- and really, whatever he could, sometimes -- to get a woman's attention. Especially if the woman in question didn't seem to be as affected by him as the others. He had to admit, it was refreshing, and maybe just bruised his ego a little bit. Javier lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug in response to her question, the smile not quite slipping off his face. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe VIP passes for you and your friends.. A ride in our private plane. A personal tour guide at our next destination--" their next stop was going to be in his hometown, after all. "And my amazing company." He lifted his glass of scotch to his lips. "The last three things are just for you, though."

Her open hostility to her new home had led to this moment, she could suppose. Indignant and mortified to have watched her entire family slain and then be declared the bride of Ser Matthias’ lord, she had fought the man in every way she could once she had surrendered. Yet, fatigue had won once it became evident she would never be released — the sobs that echoed the halls still felt like they were building in her chest.

Concern flickered past the knight's features before he could help it, though he supposed it was only natural to feel worried for one's charge. After all, it was his sworn duty to protect her -- what would that mean if he couldn't even protect her from malnutrition? A broken heart, however, was another matter entirely. Especially one caused by his own king. He could still hear the memory of her sobs behind her chambers doors night after night as he stood guard outside. Matthias was a loyal knight, but he was not a heartless one. "I'm a hardly a guest, princess," he said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.

"Oh, no, some might argue that it is exactly because my mind was on the ball--" he tried not to wince once again as he adjusted himself on the bed. "-- which is why I keep getting hurt." Though most sports news outlets would disagree. Minjun had made a name for himself getting a little too rough with other players, his short fuse getting the best of him in most situations. And sure, some games went on without incident, but he found himself needing medical attention way too much that he couldn't even really argue her point wholeheartedly. "I think I do a pretty good job of changing the scenery, don't I?" he said, head tilting ever so slightly. "Sure, this game's injury warranted a hospital visit, but I don't know, last time, we had good fun in the stadium." His face broke into a grin, knowing full well that wasn't what she meant.

"Is that so? Your professional opinion, huh?" A scoff slipped from between his lips and his fingers brushed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I don't care." It was a pathetic retort, he knew, but the only one he could think of at the moment, not wanting her to have the last word. While he was inclined to disagree with Ch'iu Yueh on, well, anything, Connor plastered on a huge smile for the benefit of the bride and groom. Looking at their direction, he even held his champagne flute up ever so slightly, as if to say 'we're getting along swimmingly'. He might have a tendency to be an asshole, but he wasn't about to ruin his best friend's wedding weekend. Besides, he'd only get an earful anyway. Turning his attention back to his supposed partner for this whole shindig, Connor raised a brow. "So I'm guessing you got the 'you and Connor better get along' talk from Sophie too, didn't you?" He leaned closer to the table. "I've always found it funny, how desperate they are for us to get along."

There was a pit in her stomach that only seemed to grow at Sutton's every word. Theo could feel her heartbreaking as if it was a physical sensation and not a metaphor. She wanted to say she could do it-- that she wouldn't care what her parents would say, or the looks she would get. She wanted Sutton, wanted to be with her. But she knew that couldn't be true. She would lose her family -- she would lose everything. And yet, it felt like she was anyway. Theo became aware of the stinging sensation in the backs of her eyes and she looked away, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from flowing. "Can't we just--" she started, but quickly stopped herself. She couldn't ask that of Sutton. So instead, she said, "There's no one else for me." Her voice was quiet, low, as if she was afraid of what she was saying. And in a way, she was. There was only Sutton. She sucked in a breath, and faced the other. "I-- I know this can't work--" she started. "-- but I want you to know that. That there's no one else for me."