@shuaestheist

So this is how it feels to fall in love.

You see, I've always been the lonely kid — Lee Jihoon, the outcast. Despite being Lee Seokmin and Lee Chan's cousin, arguably some of the most famous students of the school, my social status in the school is at rock bottom.  In fact, I was relentlessly bullied, ridiculed, and given dirty looks by the rest of the student body. For what reason? I didn't know. Even my own cousins avoids me like the plague at school, only interacting with me if our families have dinner together.

It felt like I was locked up in my very own version of hell, unable to escape the daily torture to my body and psyche. I wanted to die, even.

But like a knight in shining armor, you came. I even remember the moment I first met you. It was a normal day, of me being tossed around and bullied by these larger boys in my class out on the hallways where everyone could see. All the kids around me had their phones out, cameras and polished fingers pointed at me as they giggled among themselves. No one made a move to save me from it, lest they incur the wrath of these obese bullies. No one except you.

You weaved through the crowd and stopped one's fist from coming into contact against my body with one hand, the other helping me up and pulling me against your side. "Cut it out, we're in a school not a fucking wrestling ring," you spat, eyebrows furrowed as the bullies weighed their options. As they decided that it wasn't worth it, they left, and the crowd dispersed with even more dismayed whispering and judgmental glances. Daring to peek down, I saw the name behind my savior's face: Choi Seungcheol.

And just like that, a brand new ray of light began to shine down on me.

You were the brightest person in my lonely galaxy. In the vast space of sneers, stares, gossip, and judgment, you kept smiling and treating me with respect and - dare I say - love?

I know it has only been a few days, maybe weeks, since the time that you saved me from the grasp of those bullies, but there is something innately different with the way I feel around you. I feel like I'm opening up, like a blooming flower bud. You make me better, like I'm an actual human instead of a part of the school walls.

I guess you saw something in me too — you let me into your life so easy. It was like you were a book open only for me. I learned about your likes, your dislikes, your schedule, your friends, your family; I learned everything there is to learn about you. I prefer learning about you more than these boring subjects in school that gives me no joy. And I think you like it too, if our date is anything to go by.

One week after, we went on a date! Oh, you don't know how happy I was when we agreed on a date. Unfortunately, you didn't ask me out in public like I envisioned, but I still said yes nonetheless. I woke up super, super early on the day of the date — or maybe I didn't sleep, I really couldn't remember. All I know was that I was super excited. I spent the better part of an hour to pick out the perfect clothes for today, eventually settling on a pair of washed out blue jeans and a gray shirt — casual enough, but not too flashy. Lowkey.

I went early to your house and waited outside for you. You really took your time to prepare, since I had to wait two hours outside for you. And it was definitely not in vain once you stepped out of your house with a bright smile on your face, eyes disappearing into little slits. You look so happy to see me, which made me happy as well! You wore a baby blue button up with blue jeans, which made me feel severely underdressed. No matter.

We began to walk in tandem to the ice cream shop in town, me walking right behind you. We need to stay lowkey, yes yes, so you led the way and I followed, step by step. Once we got to the shop, you ordered a large cup of mint chocolate ice cream. I hated that flavor, but you didn't know it yet. That's fine, I'll like it if it's you. Then we went to the cinema, watched a scary movie. You squeaked and jumped a few times, which made me smile and laugh a little. I wanted to hold your hand to let you know that I am here and give you a bit of comfort, but it would've been too quick, not ideal for a first date in my mind.

And when our date ended, you let me into your house. It was, again, not ideal for a first date, but I let it pass, since you insisted. You even smuggled me into your room, our steps barely making a sound as we climbed the stairs. I felt my insides flutter and turn into mush — I've never been into another boy's house before! But because I trusted you, I followed your lead. Once we got inside your room, you let me sit on the chair in the corner of your room while you went ahead to watch. Interesting how the chair is at the very nook of the room, shadows hiding it from view. I bet when the sun rises, this would be a perfect spot for reading books or doing your hobbies. I envision it already, and it put a smile on my face.

You finished bathing quickly, wearing nothing but a towel around your waist as you raided your closet for nightwear. My cheeks feel like they're flaming, and they might be beet red right now, but I couldn't look away as the towel fell around you and you wiggled into a pair of boxers. You even opted not to wear a shirt of any kind. I watched in rapt attention, memorizing every detail of you that I could. And how could I not? You were the image of perfection, an Adonis made for me and me alone. And the fact that you welcomed me makes it all the more vital for me to memorize everything that is you.

"Good night," you say into the cool night air as you slipped underneath the covers and fall asleep. I held my breath for a bit before whispering a soft good night back, unwilling to wake you from the beginnings of your slumber. Slowly, I inched closer to your sleeping figure. I traced your features with my fingertips — your cat-like eyes, the sharp bridge of your nose, the slight upward lilt of your mouth, and your sharp cheekbones. I ingrained them into my touch and watched you sleep closely.

I saw myself out once the sun began rising, climbing out the window so I won't alert your parents of my presence.

Until our next date, Seungcheol hyung.

"Rumor says you're that weird Jihoon kid's cousin, hyung?" Seungkwan jeered as he poked the senior's side in the cafeteria, Seungcheol in tow behind him. Seokmin felt a full shudder run along his spine at the mention of the older's name, while Chan glared at Seungkwan. "Jeez, don't mention him to me. It's bad enough that he goes to this school of all places," the youngest sighed deeply.

"Why, what's up with Jihoon?" Hansol asked, barely swallowing his mouthful of food. "I saw Cheollie hyung help the kid a few days ago," the younger added, with Seungcheol nodding in agreement. "You shouldn't be good to Jihoon hyung, Seungcheol hyung," Seokmin faced the older male with serious urgency laced in his voice.

"Seokmin’s right, Cheol. Best you stay away from Jihoon," Joshua, Seokmin’s best friend and fellow theater kid, quipped as he sipped his Coke. "Why?" Seungcheol repeated Hansol’s question, mind filling up with worry. Joshua made the group huddle together as Seokmin took a deep breath.

"Jihoon moved here because he has a bunch of TROs filed against him back in Busan," the eldest of the group murmured. "What?!" Seungkwan gasped out loud, earning the stares of some people seated near them. "Shut the fuck up, Kwannie hyung!" Chan whisper-shouted, which turned into a death stare match. Seungcheol ignored the two and focused on the shocking information he learned just now.

"Why the TRO?" he asked. "He's a serial stalker, Cheol. With a high chance of becoming violent, said the police. So I suggest you stay away from him. He's violently obsessive." Seokmin warned the older. "And Seungkwan says you rescued the kid?" Joshua asked, to which Seungcheol nodded.

I was born a princess, with skin as white as snow, hair as black as the windowsill of the palace and lips as red as blood — the outcome of a wish whispered into the wind one winter. I grew up happy in the palace walls, unaware of my mother's jealousy. She had a huntsman lure me into the forest to carve out my heart for her to consume. As my mother's child, I was willing to do what my mother told me — even if it cost me my own life. And yet, he let me run free. The dwarves living deep within the mountain took me in as I escaped, in the condition that I cooked and cleaned for them. Oh, how I wish it were that simple. Night after night, their little, calloused hands touched me in places that shouldn't be touched. I was confused, conflicted and I cried myself to sleep every night. I may be safe from my mother, but I am not safe from the predatory touches of the dwarves.

As fate would have it, Mother found me again, in the guise of an old woman. She came back day after day to offer me gifts of combs and beautiful little trinkets — trinkets that made me fall ill. The dwarves took care of me and told me to refuse all of the gifts the woman gave me. But the last gift she gave me was too luscious to resist. It was an apple, perfectly smooth and deliciously red. She offered me one and I bite into it, the sweet juice trickling into my mouth. Little did I know, I played right into her trap. I fell dead at her feet, just like she wanted.

The dwarves put my body in a glass coffin and I laid dead for years — until my uncle took me home. He was a duke, brother of my estranged father. He took me away from the kingdom and right into his house, where he hid my body in one of the rooms. As years flew by, I witnessed his household grow as he married a beautiful woman. It was then that the solace that I should feel with my family slowly grew into hate. My uncle's new wife found my body. Thinking that I was a mistress, she tugged my body from my glass case and punched me senseless, up to the point that I was unrecognizable. My uncle didn't have an inkling of worry as she brought me in the house under the guise of a slave gifted to her.

To be tossed from a murderous mother to indecent dwarves to an abusive aunt, it can cripple your mind in more ways than one. Now, here I am, rocking back and forth on the floor of the kitchen, a bloodied knife in my hands. Aimlessly, I etched lines along the mahogany floors, mumbling and giggling to myself. The bodies of my aunt and uncle laid not too far off, disemboweled and lifeless.

A manic smile is imprinted on my lips as I gaze at their cold figures— they have created an insatiable monster in the form of a young girl, poisoned by malice and murder.

"Smile!"

Their arrangement is strange for the normal person to wrap their heads around. Joshua, Mingyu and Minghao - they were all in a relationship with each other. Joshua and Mingyu kiss each other, Minghao and Joshua cuddle, Mingyu and Minghao go on dates - they all love each other equally.

Minghao and Mingyu became a couple first, since they were classmates in Photography class. Joshua was invited by Minghao to date him and Mingyu, after the younger confessed that he liked both men. Joshua and Mingyu, at first, were awkward due to their differences, but they slowly grew to love each other just as much as they love Minghao.

But in instances like these, when Joshua is behind the camera, capturing the picturesque smiles of his boyfriends in front of a painting whose artist the eldest had no knowledge of, his head is clouded in doubt and anxiety. Looking at the perfect picture he took, Joshua thinks that Minghao and Mingyu were perfect together... and that he had no place squeezing himself into what little space the two had. They were, after all, a couple even before Joshua came in the picture.

As his head fills with these troubled thoughts, he becomes quiet, trailing after the two men who were happily engaging in a conversation about the beauty of the art pieces that filled the art museum they were exploring. They chatted animatedly as Joshua walked two steps slower, watching his boyfriends having the time of their lives.

A few feet into their stroll, Mingyu turns to Minghao, whispering into his ear. Simultaneously, they turned back to face Joshua. 'This is it, they'll break up with me,' the eldest thought as he looked down, hands on the camera trembling ever so slightly.

Quietly, Minghao wraps his arm around Joshua's waist. "I can hear your mind thinking, babe," the Chinese murmured into his ear. "I know that look, darling, and I just wanna tell you, we will never, ever leave you. You love us, we love you. Don't doubt yourself." Mingyu chimed in, burying his nose into Joshua's hair.

"I-I'm sorry Haoi, sorry Gyu, I just-" "Shh," Minghao interjected, his finger pressing against the American boy's rattling lips. "Don't be sorry, prince. It's alright. Say, should we get some ice cream? I know choco ice cream's your comfort food." Minghao smiled at him, leaning in to peck Joshua's lips softly. Mingyu's warm palm cups Joshua's cheeks and gently maneuvered Joshua, facing him to the taller and kissing him as sweetly as he could.

Joshua held his boyfriends' hands, comforted by their endless profession of love, spoken and unspoken.

one.

They say when you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes in 7 minutes.

I've always wondered how that would feel. And what I would see. Definitely, I'd see Jeonghan a lot in it, then.

But there's no time to think about that. The sun blares its bright light at me, forcing me to open my eyes and look at the clock. Damn. It's already 8 in the morning. I'm utterly late. And so, I wash up, get my keys and drive to the office, passing by a nearby coffee shop to get my daily caffeine fix for the day.

two.

"Choi Seungcheol," the boss, Jonghyun, calls out my name. "Ah, yes?" I blink at him, pulled out of my daydream about Jeonghan as the quarterly meeting of the company progresses. "It seems like you're not listening to the meeting. Do you feel sick? Wish to be excused?" he says. "A-ah, no, I'm fine, Sir," I say.

All that plagues my mind is the last time we spoke. Jeonghan and I got into a fight recently and I, still, could genuinely not see where he was coming from.

I had no time for him, I didn't care about him. That's all that's coming out of his lips. He probably didn't remember the real reason why I was doing all of this: for him. For me. And for our future.

The thought wouldn't leave my mind, really. Should I apologize? Never mind, it's not even my fault.

The meeting ends with that thought in my head. Only scribbles fill my paper, not one bullet of discussion from the meeting. Damn. I sigh before closing up my notebook and heading to my office.

After a few more hours of work, I drive home. Oddly enough, as I flick on the lights of our shared home, Jeonghan was nowhere to be seen. That's really odd. But instead of worrying, I plopped on my bed, exhausted and sleepy. I'm sure he'll come back sooner or later.

three.

I woke up the next morning to my doorbell being rung. Groggily, I get up and was met by an armful of clingy Jeonghan. Smiling softly, I chide him for being away for so long. In apology, he shows me a bouquet of yellow tulips.

The kind of tulips I gave him on our first date.

Chuckling, I put the flowers where they belonged, on a pretty vase that Jeonghan had made long ago, while hugging him and telling him that we were fine. We are fine. And we will be fine.

We're different, he and I. Choi Seungcheol, a business major. Yoon Jeonghan, an art major. Seungcheol, whose life revolved around numbers and laws and strategies. Jeonghan, whose life revolved around pottery and paintings and aesthetics. No one would ever think that the two of us would ever be a match. But here we are, in a little quaint house, lives set in front of us for the rest of our days.

four.

Our anniversary is coming up, mine and Jeonghan's. I need to think of what to do, really.

Our first anniversary, I took him to Han river. We rode couple bikes there and just basked in the summer sun. We were young back then too, fresh out of college and ready to take on the world.

Lucky me got a good spot in a huge company, so I took him on a fancy date in a high-end restaurant for our second anniversary. We ate the perfect steak, drank the finest wine and listened to the violins and the cellos played by the band I specifically requested for this day.

And now, the third anniversary. What should I do?

I think, staring at Jeonghan's picture on my work desk. What should I do? Where should I take him?

I take out a pen and my notebook, listing down different possibilities. This has to be special, it needs to be.

five.

I tap my fingers on the desk in front of me. This is the day, the day where all my efforts will come into fruition. This is the largest project given to me yet, and I now have to present it to the board for approval.

But I just cannot ignore the blaring red circle that stares at me from my planner. JEONGHAN, it reads. Yes, it's our anniversary today. And yet, I'm stuck here in the office, unable to spend the day with him.

I tried calling him today, but there's no answer. Maybe he's setting up a surprise for me. Or perhaps he's busy and cannot pick up. Or he left his phone at home. Silly Jeonghan. Always forgetting stuff. I chuckle softly, but there's a gnawing feeling in my gut. And it keeps on growing. Something's wrong, I can feel it.

Project proposal? Jeonghan? Project proposal? Jeonghan? Project proposal? Jeonghan?

I hang my head, letting the confused murmurs of the board and the boss roll around me as I weigh out all my options.

Wordlessly, I ran out. Jeonghan. Jeonghan is more important than any of these.

six.

I ran out of the office and into the outside world. Where in the world could he be? Panicking, I look everywhere. I loosen my tie, running along the sidewalks to find him.

Not far off, I see him across the street. He looked so innocent in that moment, carrying a pot with a stalk of sunflower and clumps of baby's breaths. I waved at him but he didn't seem to see or answer me. I wave and shout, but still he didn't see nor hear me.

I look up and it's still a green light. I couldn't cross the street to meet him halfway just yet. And so, I wait for the signal.

However, a student ran through the traffic. A jaywalker, you know. I sigh and shake my head. Irresponsible children, really.

But Jeonghan followed. I look up the signal lights, it wasn't red yet. He followed that stupid jaywalker. The bastard passed through while no car was in sight.

Knowing Jeonghan, he'll take time to cross the road. He's not a big fan of hurrying up, but in that moment he really needed to walk faster. All of a sudden, as I turn my head to the right, a car speeds up along the lane that Jeonghan was currently walking through.

Goddamn it! I throw my tie and blazer to the ground and just ran for it. Unminding of the glares and curses from the drivers, I continued running. Luckily, the car carreens sideways. But there was another car coming right up behind him. Jeonghan, in shock, is rooted to the spot, the pot falling out of his hands and breaking on the asphalt.

But before he could get hit, I pushed him out of the way.

seven.

They say when you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes in 7 minutes.

So this is what it feels like. Your memories flashing your whole life in a dreamy sequence. It's painful, really.

I couldn't feel my body anymore, I feel limp. I could feel arms lifting me up and tears pouring like rain over me.

But in that moment, I am happy. I am happy that I got to save him. I am happy that, even in death, I was able to protect him, keeping the promise I made to him when we started going out.

I'm happy that my last memory is of him, even if it's of him crying over me. The feeling of him holding me in his arms is enough for me.

I'm sorry, but I'll leave now. I wanted to say these words, but they can only be expressed by the lone tear that falls from my eye as I breathe my last breath.

The air was palpable, thick — so much so that Mingyu can pull the dagger from the sheath strapped around his thigh and cut through it. Nervous, dangerous adrenaline racks through his body as he sits in that fateful chair, across that fateful person — Hong Jisoo.

Not that Jisoo was Mingyu's crush. Rather, he was an enemy — a rival.

Both Jisoo and Mingyu are the leaders of the largest yakuza clans in Tokyo. Both have certain districts of the city wrapped around the barrels of their guns and the knuckles of their fists. Both are also the strongest and most powerful men of the Underground.

But perhaps, as all those crappy action films say, there can only be one that rules the city. Their circles are closing in and they just cannot tiptoe around each other for far too long. This needs to be addressed as soon as possible. Or at least Mingyu thought so.

It seems like Jisoo thought so as well — they really needed to settle this territory matter once and for all now. Mingyu assumes, if the blatant inviting of him by the paler, smaller yakuza boss to a tea date is anything to go by.

A ceramic teapot and dainty glass teacups with earl grey tea laid across the coffee table, steaming with heat. The entire room was reminiscent of a tea room decorated for royalty as well — perhaps Jisoo likes the more refined Japanese aesthetic, in contrast with the rough and ragged blacks and reds that the underground is known for.

Nonetheless, Mingyu indulges himself to a small sip from the teacup and revels in its warmth. It's much milder than the coffees that Seungkwan feeds him, but not unwelcome to the palette. Mingyu took the tiniest sip — he'd seen his fair share of poisonings after all, and he was not keen on following down the path of death like them. However, the warmth drew him to gulp more of the warm liquid. That very same warmth spread through his body, from his chest all the way to his fingers, and toes — and down south.

"What've you fed me, Hong?" Mingyu asked, gasping as he tugged on his suit's collar, attempting to relieve the warmth that has morphed into scorching heat. "Have you poisoned me?"

"Oh no, Kim." Jisoo smiled in a kittenish manner, dainty finger tracing the rim of the cup Mingyu drank from. "If I had poisoned you, you would've fallen flat on the floor already. I merely... gave you a little stimulant." the other yakuza boss then stalked over to the feverish Mingyu.

"A beautiful face and a god-like body like yours shouldn't be taken by Death, Mingyu. At least, not before I've had a taste for myself."

Mingyu's hand jolted up, thick and calloused fingers gripping Jisoo's wrist, the other's fingers resting gently against the former's tan skin that seemed to shine with the light sheen of sweat he's producing. "A taste, huh." Mingyu chuckled lightly, unbuttoning his blazer to reveal the rest of his skin to Jisoo's hungry eyes.

Mingyu never saw Jisoo in this way before. Under the warm yellow lights, Jisoo looked ephemeral — full lips, a button nose and expressive eyes that oozed with the want he's having for Mingyu, or at least Mingyu's body. Jisoo's body was not too bad as well, broad shoulders and a tiny waist that Mingyu can grip and leave bruises on, a small indication of the night they would share together.

Despite the halfway stripping that Mingyu had done, Jisoo kept still, merely watching as Mingyu alleviated the heat a tiny bit. The younger snarled at the lack of interaction and so, he pulled Jisoo down and slammed his lips against his. Jisoo merely chuckled as Mingyu tried to take the simple kiss further, licking against the seam of the older's lips to gain access.

"Down, boy," Jisoo chuckled lightly, his free hand pushing himself away from the other, Mingyu chasing him.

Slowly, Jisoo threw a leg over Mingyu's lap, slowly sinking to straddle him. His hands guided Mingyu's to lay against his hips, encouraging him to grip as his own arms laid on Mingyu's shoulders.

"There's no need to rush, Kim. Time is with us." Jisoo grinned, all cheshire-like as he ground his crotch against Mingyu's. Soft purrs fall from his lips, and Mingyu is struck with the urge to hear more of that sinful yet heavenly sound.

Not too long after, Mingyu's hips met Jisoo's halfway. Leisurely, clothes began falling away from their bodies one by one, Jisoo's deft hands tracing every ridge on Mingyu's sculptured body, every scar that laid across his skin. He is truly a man of unadulterated violence. But tonight, he can be a man of unadulterated lust — if his feverish core and hard crotch is anything to go by. Mingyu, on the other hand, caressed Jisoo's toned, smooth stomach and the area around his hips, the only place in this violent world where Mingyu's hands feel like they belong. His thighs are toned as well, Mingyu feeling the strong muscle as he squeezed it — toned by the many nights of chasing and running away and into chaos.

But there's no place for violence here, Mingyu muses as Jisoo finally sheathed Mingyu's length into his warm, wet hole. No place for violent thoughts, no place of competition here. Right here, right now, with Jisoo bouncing on his lap, letting out wanton moans of pleasure as the length inside him pulsated and grew in girth — violence has no place here. Maybe save for the men guarding the entrance, eyes hidden by sunglasses trained forward. Maybe they're craving to be in Mingyu's position right now, their lengths buried inside Jisoo, giving their boss pleasure beyond his wildest dreams.

This thought struck a nerve inside Mingyu. He's the one here with Jisoo, the one here to worship Jisoo's perfect body. Not the guards, not other bosses, no other one but Mingyu. With this, Mingyu's grip on Jisoo's hips tightened, his mind reeling as he pulled the older down on his member. Jisoo shrieked, being hit spot on with the head of the length. Jisoo rested his forehead on Mingyu's shoulder as Mingyu began pounding into him from the bottom up. His moans grew more wanton, more weak and intoxicated — as if sex-drunk.

This little tea room must reek of their pheromones by now, but Mingyu likes it that way. Whenever Jisoo has a contact coming in through those doors, the room would exude of Mingyu, of this sinful intercourse they're partaking in. The act continues, leaving the both of them in a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to their temples as Mingyu shoved all of the objects on the table away, laying Jisoo on it as he thrusted into the older properly.

The warmth of his walls were clenching and unclenching, and soon enough, they were suffocating his length. "Cum inside, Mingyu-kun," Jisoo purred in a salacious manner, hands caressing the younger's arms that are flexed, muscles bulging out. And with that simple word from the generally put together Jisoo, Mingyu falls apart. His seed painted Jisoo's walls white, some of it shooting right against his spot. With this, Jisoo reaches his climax as well, staining his red silk undershirt and Mingyu's bare abdomen.

Breathlessly, Jisoo giggled, fingers raking through his soft black hair. "Enemies make for some hot and dangerous sex, but I'd much rather have sex with a comrade. What do you say, Kim Mingyu?"

"What are you implying, Hong?" Mingyu's eyebrows furrowed, pulling out of Jisoo and watching mindlessly as his seed drips from Jisoo's fluttering hole and on to the floor.

"For a yakuza boss, you really are not that perceptive." Jisoo chuckled, sitting up on his table. "I'm proposing for our families to come together. For us to be a unified yakuza family. We'll rule the entire Japanese scene, hm? And not to mention, we'll be meeting more and more, not as enemies but as partners-in-crime. So?" the older tilts his head ever so slightly and Mingyu is enraptured.

Like this, Jisoo is the picture of seduction. His eyes were hazy with bliss, lips slicked with a mixture of his and Mingyu's spit, body sparkling with sweat under the yellow lights and legs spread wide enough for Mingyu to occupy — Mingyu's rather rational brain must have short-circuited already. It must have, judging by the words that spill from his lips.

I'm Jisoo, one of the members of the vocal-centric band TWENTY, active in Korea and Japan.

Like many idols, we have eyes trained on us on almost every second of the day. We are held under the scrutiny of the public, standing on a pedestal of perfection that we needed to maintain. Korea had exposed me to a bunch of sasaengs that left horrid gifts that they think that me or my members would adore, and the culture that the idols are solely for the fans — hell, even the greatest fell once their jig was up. Like Junhui, an extremely famous idol from a rival company — he was basically a persona-non-grata in Korea, along with his bandmate Myungho, after media revealed that those two were dating. Fans were outraged and demanded for the two to be booted... which they were. Poor guys.

But Japan... Japan is a whole different breed.

Handshake events, closer crowds and more passionate people — Japan was truly an idol's terror. The market was made to sell love and affection to fans, and with Japan's notorious nature of awkward, individualist millennials who reject settling down or are having a hard time finding love. And if you don't provide it... your fans might resort to violence. I mean, it was mostly the female idols that had experienced some form of violence from overzealous, obsessive fans, but we cannot be too sure.

We're in Japan for the entirety of a month, promoting our Japanese single Pinwheel. Like Japanese idols, we held handshake meetings — including the one today. Fans flooded to our event, which warmed my heart. These people with sweet smiles gave me various items such as those cute character fluff hats that are made to make the wearer look cute, fanarts and literature dedicated to make us feel special, little snacks for us to munch on, as well as flash drives that contained special messages or compilations of messages that we can look at during our free time.

Now, usually, Jeonghan or Jihoon gets the majority of these cute gifts. They are the face and visual of our group. But unexpectedly, I got some gifts as well. Dare I say it, I was one of the least famous members of TWENTY, often taking small lines in the background and the occasional lead vocals or low belts. So to be loved and recognized as much as our representative members truly warmed my heart. Person after person, they handed me tiny presents and the flash drives I had said earlier.

Even more unexpected, more male fans came to our event today. Males of various ages came to the handshake event and gave us gifts as well. I could remember the boy with thick rimmed glasses and a gummy smile that gave me a well-preserved, first press copy of a Naruto manga. I loved anime and manga, which he probably learned. I gave him — Seungcheol, was it? — a bright smile and a happy note thanking him for the gift. The other was a tall, handsome lad with sunkissed skin. He wore an awkward smile as he tugged at the sleeves of his sweater while I signed his album. After I signed it, he handed me an inconspicuous black flash drive, his head cast down.

"Please watch this when you’re alone, Jisoo-san," he spoke with a low voice as I held the other end of the flash drive. Immediately after he said those words, he let go of the stick, grabbed the album and sped out of the event. Pretty fucking weird, but I guess he's either late for another meeting or he's just... extremely awkward. Nonetheless, I tossed the item into my pile of fan gifts before tending to another fan.

After the event, my members and I made a beeline for the hotel. We took a quick shower and met up in Jihoon's room. I brought my laptop with me, seeing as we were going to watch some of the contents of those flash drives given to us. I myself had brought some that were given to me, probably a handful? I knocked on his door, placing the laptop down on his bedside table when I was allowed to come in.

We ate a meal, drank a bottle of soju or two before collectively plopping onto Jihoon's bed and opening my laptop to view the files on the flash drives.

Some videos were sweet, with heartfelt messages, while some were amusing as they danced along to our more dance-centric music like Moonwalker where Seungkwan and I rapped. Others read poetry that they made for us, while others were filled with fanedits of every member or their preferred ships. All of these earned a good fill of tears, admiration and laughs from all of us.

As the cherry on top of the files we were showing each other tonight, the guys urged me to play whatever was inside the flash drive that the tall guy gave me. I rolled my eyes at their teasing but relented. I plugged the flash drive into my laptop and only a single file was inside: a video entitled “a gift from me to you”. "Hyungie's got an admirer, it seems," Seokmin jested. I elbowed his stomach and laughed afterwards, clicking on the video to see just what's up.

The video was dark, barely illuminated by the low light landing on a male body — perhaps of the said tall man. The light was probably located below the camera lens, if the angle was anything to go by. "Hi, Jisoo-san. My name is Mingyu," the familiar voice of the boy from earlier flooded through the speakers. "I'm a big, big fan of yours and I wanted to give you a little present — a dance cover of Lucky. I'm sorry if it's sort of dark... I couldn't really adjust the lighting or I'll get caught." he — Mingyu — continued. "Caught by his mommy?" Jihoon, ever snarky, commented with a snort. I merely pinched him and watched the video as the familiar tune of Lucky started.

It feels like I had pinched myself instead.

As Mingyu on screen began to dance, I sobered up. The guys were laughing at the meekness and the sheer awkwardness of the dance, but I was stunned silent. "Ya, Joshuji, what's wrong? Drank too much?" Jeonghan poked my arm. "J-Jeonghan-ah..." I said, my voice trembling as I gripped the sheets.

“He’s in my hotel room,”

The rest of the guys fell into silence as their eyes squinted, trying to peer at the details of the room Mingyu was in. To his left was a replica of Van Gogh's Irises, an observation that Jihoon picked up when he went into my room to borrow headphones a few days ago. Behind him, to his right, was my luggage strewn open on the floor — I had unpacked halfway on the day we arrived before I accidentally fell asleep due to jetlag. And as he moved to the side — a usual position that I take when we dance as a group — I was visible, laying across the foot of the bed, sleeping soundly with my face directly in front of the camera.

The sound of raucous laughter was replaced with that of silence. I was quaking from where I lied, on Jihoon's soft bed. Mingyu was inside my room. My hotel room. That... that truly terrified me. What if he had other plans? What if he wanted to kidnap me, to torture me, to kill me?

Before I knew it, I was being held in Seokmin's arms, trembling and crying while Seungkwan stroked my back, while Jeonghan and Jihoon called our manager to tell him what was up. The guys insisted we sleep in Jihoon's that night, the others opting to take the couch rather than leaving the said room. Seokmin, Jeonghan and I slept in the bed with me in the center, while Seungkwan slept on the couch as Jihoon, the night owl, opted to keep guard and wait for updates from the management.

The very next day, the manager rushed us in packing and we headed back to Korea that very morning. A press statement to the Japanese media was organized by the management, citing that Pinwheel promotions were to be cut short due to the alarming incident that had happened. From then on, digital files were banned from being given as gifts to us — including CDs, DVDs, flash drives and other similar storage units — in any fan-immersive events.

We were beelined back to the dorms, where security was upped. For months after the incident, the guys took turns sleeping in the room that I had previously occupied alone. They were much too scared to leave me alone, which touched me and had proven to be useful. They held me and comforted me as I struggled through months of restless sleep, having either insufferable insomnia or terrible nightmares due to the sheer terror of his presence in my Japan hotel room. It took a good one to two years until I overcame the fear, and I was able to sleep in my room alone again.

Since then, I haven't heard from Mingyu.

It's been a month since Jeonghan and Kyungwon broke up. It's been a month since Kyungwon died as well. 

It was a horrible accident, Kyungwon's death. The two had a big fight and broke up. Kyungwon left his place with tears pouring from her eyes. As she crossed the road, she got hit by a delivery truck. She was declared dead on arrival. Now, Jeonghan could do nothing but stare at the ring he gave his dead lover.

The doorbell of his house rang, breaking the silence. Sluggishly, he answers the door. "A package for Mr. Jeonghan Yoon? From Ms. Kyungwon Kang," at the mention of her name, his head lifted and his lifeless eyes glimmered with confusion and longing. A package? From his dead girlfriend? He took the package and signed the papers. 

Jeonghan sits in the living room, opening the box. It was a single cassette, the case bearing her face that shined like the sun. "Of course, you knew I preferred cassettes," he smiles bitterly and reached beside him, taking the cassette player that was always there. The blonde pops the tape in and presses play.

[ PLAY ] May 22, 2017.Hi, Hannie oppa. It's me, Kyungwonnie. I made this tape since I do feel like we're breaking up soon. So if you're listening to this, that means I'm gone. Right?Anyways, I wanted to say I was very very happy with our relationship. I love you, you love me. We promised each other that we would walk down the aisle and get married to each other in the near future. I... really love you. So so much. But these days... we don't seem to get along. W-we always fight, it's like w-we don't know each other anymore. Ah~ why am I crying?  [ PAUSE ]

At this point, tears streaked Jeonghan's cheeks again. He remembers the calls she sent that he disregarded in favor of hanging with his friends, for some hookups too. Jeonghan thought that Kyungwon was too clingy and whiny. Oh how he wished it wasn't so, how he wished he didn't think that way.

[ PLAY ] Yeah. You ignored my calls. We barely met. It's like we were strangers all over again. You know, I would cry to Minkyeong every time you missed my call. Minkyeong would tell me that you're tired of me, that I should find another. But I didn't want to. I would just say that you're busy and that I'll wait for you, cause I knew you'd come back to me. I'm holding on to the promise you made me. But I did see. I see you being cold to me. I see you being indifferent and irritated with me. I see that you weren't meeting my eyes. I see that your heart and mine weren't... in sync anymore. You changed in front of me.Was I boring? Was I too clingy? Too annoying? Too obsessive? Tell me... I want to change for you. I want to be the girl you want.I can't even remember that sweet look you gave me whenever we had a date. Nor the hugs and warmth you gave me when we cuddled on your couch. You saw me get sad and yet, you didn't even comfort me.I'm still here, though you're already fading from my life. I can't even imagine you crying over me.... [ PAUSE ]

After that statement, silence enveloped the complex. Jeonghan thought it was broken or it was done. Just as his thumb hovered over the stop button, Kyungwon started speaking again.

Jeonghan started breaking down with the next words.

[ PLAY ] Maybe my I love you's weren't enough.[ PAUSE ]

Her voice enveloped him. Jeonghan looked up to see Kyungwon kneeling in front of him with a watery smile. 

"Maybe I just want to hear you say one last I love you to me,"

Jeonghan cried out, whispering I love you over and over again to the girl in front of him. As he reached out to her, she disappeared like a mirage. The cassette stopped and popped open.

Kyungwon was gone forever and Jeonghan was so stupid to let the love of his life go.