#bangtannetwork

“Oh appa!” you shrieked, wiping your hands with a tissue and dashing to the kitchen where your father was. He opens the tiny fridge for some bottled drinks to fight the hot weather of the morning.

“Yup,” his voice muffled, trying to speak through the fridge’s door.

“I chopped some apples for mom, so after Seokjin arrives, we will both go to the hospital first, drop you off thenI’ll head to the wedding,” you explained to your dad the plans for today. The old man nodded and replied, “You know you have to give a wedding gift when you’re there right?”

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“You have Seokjin now you no longer have to worry about whether you have enough,” dad said, more to convince himself than to reply to you. There’s a hint of relief in his tone and you were glad that you managed to help ease your father's trouble. He had fought long and hard from his youth till now to provide for this family. This life may not have been perfect at any turn, but it was undeniably yours. There was always some sense of acceptance that made all of this easy. Sacrifices were made for this home but it was far more harmless than what could have occurred. You sleep a little easier knowing that there is money in the bank.

Knock. Knock.

Your father turns to you with a serious look, “Do you think it’s time to give him the spare key since he is always around? Why don’t both of you settle here? Speaking of settling down, have you two decided where? Shifting between houses isn't healthy for a marriage you see… too many hours apart…” he warns with a tilt of his head.

You sped to the door knob and said, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder! Besides, I still have to clean the house and cook for you when you’re home.” Seokjin wore a checkered long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and you almost thought that a stranger was there instead of him. He looked so different, you almost didn’t recognise him. So casual, so...uncharacteristically Seokjin.

“Who are you?” you feigned a confused face and relished in the annoyed expression he bore as he stepped in.

“Where’s your Balenciaga jacket, Rayban shades and tailored suits?” you kept pestering him and he rolled his eyes.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” he softly scolded.

“Dad was just asking where we are going to settle down and I don’t have the answers for that,” you spoke through gritted teeth, careful to not raise your voice because your father could hear.

“Just say Seokjin’s working on it,” he shrugs.

“What do you mean by that? You too don’t have the plans in papers? I thought you had everything in bullet points??”

“I didn’t think in detail, well I do have a spot I just… it’s still under renovation,” he stepped in, took off his slip-ons and bowed to your dad with his good son-in-law smile plastered across his face.

You took out several food containers from the fridge. Tie them up like you did his bento before. For Seokjin, there’s just so many of them. Certainly your mother won’t be able to finish it.

“Why so many?”

“It’s for the whole ward… I have money now you see. I have always wanted to cook for them all. And now, I can,” you winked at him and took two bunch in each hand, pointing the other two with your chin, you said to Seokjin, “You could get the rest of it right honey? I hope you didn’t bring your Lambo for our errands today because if you do we might have to take the b-u-s.”

Seokjin turns his head slowly to the view of about 5 more tied bentos on the tiny counter.

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“I was half-worried that he might have brought the sports car,” dad huffs, fastening the belt as he sat in the front passenger seat. The brown Palisade Hyundai was clearly rarely used, judging from the lack of dirt on the inside and outside of the car. Some of the items inside the car were still wrapped in plastic.

“If I were to be honest, the car looks like it just got out of the car shop or wherever someone gets a new car from,” you mumbled to your chest as the back door closed after Seokjin loaded everything. He scuffles to the driver seat and has the engine started with a press of a button.

“Sweetie,” you called, and he hummed back naturally with a little head jerk.

“I like this car better than the Lambo,” you said and puffed your cheek, “It looks barely used though, it’s not your favourite?”

“I just got it. Today.”

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Seokjin avoided eye-contact with your dad and rather than him being shy, it was him being respectful. The boys engage in small talks about fishing. Your father too was enthusiastic about fishing like Seokjin's father was, however Seokjin never went fishing with them both despite having the same passion. You see a smile on his pretty face, a smile you had never seen before. Your father was too excited about the story where he caught a fish with a bait he made himself. You turned to the window and watched the pedestrians on the streets, feeling, after a long time— serenity, peace and love.

You returned to the car alone after sending your father off to the hospital. As you were crossing the road, Seokjin was taking a call outside the Palisade. From the looks of it, it seemed very important. He caught you watching and turned his back to you, leaning against the car door. He ended the call in a hurry and climbed into the car, the same time you did. His eyes are focused on everything but you.

“Are you alright?”

He swings his head to the side at you. Wide-eyed.

“Yes...I am fine,” Seokjin shrugs.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong. Very wrong.

There's things I wanna say to you

But I'll just let you live

Like if you hold me without hurting me

You'll be the first who ever did — Cinnamon Girl, Lana Del Rey

The song on the radio, taking your mind off of things for a little bit. Conversations sink in the pit of your stomach in the car ride to Seokjin’s home. The painting is delivered through a courier. After signing the device carried by the delivery man, Seokjin moves the painting when he realises that you stood ajar in the doorway, unsure where to go. He didn’t say a word but led the way with the painting in his arm.

“Mom called and said she wants dinner with you soon,” he sighed as he lay the painting on the L-shaped leather sofa in the middle of his living room, “So tell me when you have no class, and I’ll fit my schedule around yours,” he added. There was a baby grand piano at the corner of the room. A fireplace underneath the large flat-screen television. He turned the air conditioner on and darkened the windows. The living room has a wooden patio stretching all the way to the edge of the building, separated by a glass wall. The same glass walls are built in with tints that can be automatically darkened upon a touch of a button. Outside the patio, you could see hanging hammocks, a swimming pool and a jacuzzi. Luxury.

Chandeliers hung in the middle of the room as Seokjin took another call, and this time, you could see that it was from the office. He looked awkward having you around the house, so you sat yourself on the sofa, with your knees touching, your fingers fiddling. Seokjin hasn’t reappeared from the halls where his home office was though you could hear his voice but couldn’t make out what he says. In a few more hours, the wedding will begin. Ian’s and Suri’s. You were not looking forward to it, but because you insisted on helping Seokjin to hang this painting, you had to abide by his requests.

There’s a spiraling staircase next to the living room section, which you suspect to be directing to another section of the penthouse. Rich people live.

“What are you doing, get dressed…” he dashes out of nowhere and climbs up the stairs you were currently standing at the base of. Following his lead, you were directed to another leisure space and a door. In that room, there were already several dresses hanging in the walk-in closet.

“Choose one and get on with it,” he said and left you in the room on your own.

All of them were from the designer, Zuhair Murad. It’s written on the bags it came with and you chose the one with short one shoulder cocktail dress with asymmetrical ruffle in printed crimson, sapphire and jade stripes. There are make-up supplies, brand new and unopened in the closet itself. You hurried to your phone to look for some makeup ideas that are simple because you don’t want too much attention on you. Seokjin’s message chimes in.

[Seokjin]: I have matters to handle. I’ll send a car for you to the wedding and I’ll meet you there.

What else can you say about that, all this time you only could go with it— with whatever Seokjin told you to do.

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Several years prior,

Ian sits in the middle of the lecture hall while Suri paces up and down the stairs. You blasted through the door and threw your bag on the stage where the whiteboards were.

“And if you use the C = C x e^k.t formula?” Suri was heard saying but you stormed in, wordlessly and climbed on the stage. Suri jumps off the stage and joins Ian.

“Let her do her thang…” Ian said, with a trace of pride. You were facing the whiteboard, soaking in the numbers available and coming up with an equation that could be derived to solve the question. That’s why you love pharmacokinetics; while no one thinks it made sense, it makes perfect sense to you. And with every question, they require different amounts of intimacy. Intricate problems like these are special to you.

You stretched your arm out and said, “Pen…”

Not even once you looked behind you, your eyes were glued on the problem on the board. Squeezing the pen’s cap and pulling them open, you hold the tip of the pen an inch away from the board, take a deep breath in and...

Begin writing your solution. Suri counter checks your mental arithmetic solutions with her calculator, Ian double checks the basic formulas and you come to the solution.

“What’s the answer?” you asked, this time turning to the side where they were.

“8.1 hours…” they simultaneously answered and in obvious awe because you were accurate down to the T.

“How did you do it— “ “That’s insane…” “Can I borrow your brain for the quiz tomorrow? You won’t be taking the quiz anyways…”

You refastened the cap on the pen and passed them back to its rightful owner, smiling to the floor and picking up your bags from the floor. You coolly bid them farewell and went to do your part-time job in the university library before lectures begin at 1pm. Suri would deliver lunch to you because she knows you will be skipping lunch to avoid buying, using your allowance that you could save for your transportation card. It’s sometimes as simple as sandwiches or bentos. Sometimes sushi and sometimes wraps. You were so lucky to have friends who understand.

Ian drives you to the hospital when you miss the bus and sometimes fetches you from your workplace to university. The three of you went through a lot.

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Sitting in the back of the car on your way to the wedding, the car drove past the playground you three frequented. It's where you danced in the rain, swinging, and sliding down the slides at midnight and on one was around. As the car drove further away and the playground looked smaller from your view, you realised no matter how much you dreaded it, nothing lasts forever. No one is permanent. And you are about as real as you assumed yourself to be. In the end, the popular things today will be outdated in the future. Like an old mall and phones with chords. Relevance is heavily dependent on trends.

Arriving at the hall, your whole body felt heavy. There were too many eyes watching, too many unwelcomed stares and familiar faces that were in shock to see you there. The attention on you was harrowing so you excused yourself to stand outside the building, clutching your purse and taking out your phone. Nothing.

Your last messages to Seokjin were left unread. It’s been hours.

You resorted to calling Yoongi. It was answered within the first ring.

“Hey, I’m sorry— “ you began.

“My apologies but Seokjin hasn’t returned to his office, I am still trying to reach him,” Yoongi sounded anxious as you are. He was informed of the event today and he is as frantic as you are waiting on calls from Seokjin to indicate his current situation. Understanding that Seokjin might as well bailed out on the entire plan, you nodded to yourself. No one was watching but… you felt the need to smile, though bitterly.

“That’s quite alright,” you smoothened the dress you wore, feeling a little foolish to dress up for an event you are most likely to skip, “It can’t be helped.” You ended the call and planned to deliver the wedding allowance anonymously. You might pop your head to say hi and leave after 2 minutes. It’s not like you never attend a wedding or any event alone; you’re used to this. This one just felt slightly different because it was your friends that you thought you would have forever. It is as if you’re standing at the junction of a highway and they decide to stay, so you must go through the rest of the journey alone.

Everyone came with their partners, some with children and grandparents; it’s a lively gathering. Arms in arms, hand holding. They are whole. Unlike me.

You hugged yourself and slid your right hand down your left, and it touched your wedding ring. And you felt twice worse. Stepping forward, you lift your hand to the gentlemen who were in-charge of collecting the allowance for the wedding couple when a warm hand slid behind your back, settling just above your hip. You turned to the side to see who it was and saw broad shoulders, and jawline so sharp, it could cut you. He clenches his jaw and rides his palm up your shoulder, squeezing it. Then it slides down your spine and back to his side.

“Chin up, you’re Kim Seokjin’s wife…” he placed his palm upward, waiting for you to take them. His eyes lasers into yours with a soft reliable smile on his lips.

“You’re late,” you spat and took his hand harshly. But he lifts them to his lips and plants a kiss on them.

“But I’m here,” he arched one eyebrow at you. Cocky.

" I can't believe I actually was readying myself to walk in solo… you were this," you brought your thumb to your forefinger close together but not touching, "This close to getting the bad-husband label plastered across your forehead, so where were you?"

Seokjin takes a seat after pulling a chair out for you. He has his arm over the back of your chair and he begins his explanation with a sigh.

"The family registrar is being disputed and I am losing a total of 5 shares of the current project I am handling… My uncle came home from Bulgaria to tell the company shareholders I have no rights to hold profits I didn't help build."

A muffin was passed around and Seokjin snatched one and shoved them in his mouth as if he didn't just almost lose the only thing he ever cared about, his family wealth. That was something you admire most about Seokjin, how he is so careless and carefree is something you would envy. People shushed over the sound of the emcee clearing his throat over the microphone. The lights dimmed and you caught Seokjin’s side profile in the dim light still looking beautiful. The shape of his face, and how the light struck in harmony with the shadow that defined his cheekbones— he wasn't he always had been, you thought, breathtaking. You don’t remember staring at someone this long and being this enchanted.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” he mumbled in an annoyed tone before he turned to you with his lips thinned. He then passed you a drink after you were caught red handed, and, “You look thirsty.” You cleared your throat and replied, “Yes, the air is dry just like your humor.”

“Is it now… could be the dress being too revealing for your long-sleeves-only-since birth, skin,” he tutted his tongue and leaned back as the food arrived.

“I disagree, my skin was too precious to be abused by the dehumidified air, this hall is packed with, not to mention, the unhelpful company I had to attend it with…” you turned to him and eyed him up and down, “comfortable in his tailored blazers.”

Seokjin scoffs an air out and puts the brim of the glass to his lips for a sip but before he could, he had something to say, “If I were to go shirtless, I worry someone and everyone would have to spoon their eyes out in order not to bless themselves with the view my body would provide them. I was only looking out for the betterment of the members of the society.”

You hummed back with a gentle smile, looking away.

“How confident— “

“-- hard to be this pretty. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Amazing. Just brilliant.”

“Out of bicker points are you? Can I call it: Seokjin won this round?”

“You wish… What’s the use of being that pretty if you can’t get girlfriends to marry you and had to resort to me, your sworn nemesis?”

“Because I have dicks as family members whose only purpose in life is to ruin mine, that is also something you won’t understand, and I don’t blame you.”

“Perks of being poor, unseen and invaluable.”

He shoves the first fork of the spaghetti served and makes a face.

“Let me have that,” you took his plate and put away your empty plate.

“My dog can cook better than that,” he spat.

“Shut up and behave,” you curled your fingers around your ear shell and tuck a strand of hair escaping.

“I can’t remember if I locked the lambo,” he checks his smart watch then his car key.

“I wish you didn’t and someone stole it,” you said it to humor yourself.

Seokjin gave you a dead stare at the back of your head, leaning back in his chair, knees spread. It sometimes clashes with yours and everytime it does, you move away.

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” he muttered back, “You sure you want to lose the lambo that saved your life a few times?”

“Saved my life? Stop being dramatic,” you ridiculed him and rolled your eyes at him, shoving the last fork of spaghetti into your mouth.

His left knee grazed your thigh and his voice dropped a tone lower, “I felt you pulsating against my wrist that night.”

You choked and scrambled to get bottled water but it was too far from reach. Seokjin chuckled darkly and snapped one open for you. You snatched them from him and gulped down half of the bottle.

“You can’t say those shits in public,” you said, recovering from your coughing fit, “There must be rules to that.”

“To what? To indecent conversation? I am just sharing with you what I felt,” Seokjin took the cloth from his lap and dabbed the side of your lips.

Suddenly, you heard your name whispered from behind.

It was Suri.

Seeing her that close after a while made you jolted out of your seat. Seokjin continued watching the entire scene. She wore a sad expression while you remained stoic but Seokjin knew that you were trying hard not to show any emotions.

“There will be couple dance to commemorate our wedding, and Ian and I are wondering if you and your husband would like to join…”

“No— “ “ — Yes!”

You glared at Seokjin and he stood up, ready for the challenge. Suri beams and Ian nodded behind her, eyeing Seokjin like he had issues with him. Ian’s reaction was understandable; he used to know everything about you and now nothing, he is wary towards any guy you come close to because he knows how dense you could be. Ian had heard about Seokjin as the troublemaker before but apart from that, you revealed nothing else. It was obvious to him that Seokjin isn’t your favorite subject to talk about. The marriage was sudden and very suspicious— he had mentioned it a few times to Suri ever since it was revealed through the online class that Seokjin was in the same bed as you.

“What if he was just using her? I know guys like Seokjin. Marriage? That’s ridiculous!”

“There is nothing we could do; and if she wanted us to do something about it, she wouldn’t exclude herself from us, breaking our friendship. Say what you want, but the day I saw her throw our wedding card in the trash can, part of me that loved her died too.” Suri leaves Ian, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with his dress shirt unbuttoned, his tattoos bare for the walls to see. He harshly pushed his shoulder-length hair back.

Ian took Suri’s hand and walked away.

Seokjin stretched out his hand for you to take and followed right after the newly wed couple for the said dance. Upon reaching the dance floor, Seokjin grabbed your waist and had your stomach dangerously touching his crotch. Thighs touching, chest to chest. You repelled but he pulled you close again. Eyes warning you.

“It’s waltz. You have to be this close.”

“I don’t know the waltz, Seokjin,” you panicked.

“Square, move in squares, ready?”

“No?”

The music begins anyways. You know you were going to step on his feet a few times, numerous times. The first time you did, your eyes shot to his face and he didn’t give any expression. The second time, he groaned a bit but still carried on the dance. Veins popping on the side of his neck and he is turning slightly red, so you ran your forefinger along the line. He turned even redder and stammered, “K-keep y-your hands to yourself.”

“You look cute when you’re flustered,” you bit your smile looking up at him.

“You look evil when you smile,” he retorts.

The music turns to a soft slow dance. Suri and Ian are linking foreheads and smiling. Feeling the need to match the romance, you linked your fingers behind Seokjin’s neck. He looked alarmed but he is not complaining or resisting as much.

“You look like you’re enjoying this,” you said, coyly.

“In your dreams… you can never rile me up,” Seokjin passed.

“Same here,” your eyes shot straight into him.

A glance was exchanged but you weren’t sure what it was.

You saw Ian and Suri looking like a perfect couple and you felt so lonely all of a sudden. You wished you had an ounce of what they have. Unbeknownst to you, Seokjin was looking at them too.

“Seokjin?”

“Hm?”

“What is it like to be loved?”

You continued to stare, unable to peel your eyes away from the two lovebirds. Even as Seokjin turned you away from the view. Seokjin pulled slightly away to look into your eyes.

“It might feel slightly this way…” he whispered softly.

Then he closed the distance between his lips to your open neck, nibble his lips over the span of your skin softly. You feel his lips parted on your skin and his warm wet tongue slid through to graze your neck. He gave a gentle suckle, just enough to let you feel light-headed from his ministrations. You silently hoped that he would go harder, slightly rougher but the sound of people talking pulled you back into reality. When he parts, leaving his saliva cooling under the air-conditioner, he catches your eyes. They are hazy and lustful. Your lips are parted and you run the tip of your tongue along the spans of it.

“I thought I couldn’t rile you up? Just an open-mouthed kiss and your chest is heaving,” he glances over the corner of the room, “It’s almost as if you want more?” He turns to you.

You opened your mouth to speak but no words would come out. Sentences wouldn’t string themselves and you are just caught staring wide-eyed at him. Ian tapped Seokjin’s shoulder and asked if he could dance with you. Seokjin turns to you for approval, and when you nod, he lets Ian have you.

You felt your eyes pricking, and impending tears threatening to pool and fall on your cheeks, but you did all you can to not to appear like a loser. Instead of facing him like you did Seokjin, you pulled him into a hug and you felt Ian’s chin resting on your shoulder. His 5 am shadow beard poking your skin.

“I’ve missed you terribly,” he said in a low voice. And you responded with a tighter hug around him, your arm clutched over his back, his blazer crumpled under your fist. Your tears are falling uncontrollably now. Noticing how embarrassing this is, you shoved him away, and sprinted out through the door the catering staff uses and Ian chases after you. The night air is cold and prickling. You found a patio, a verandah with a handrail looking out the city and there, you cried, bawled, crumbled into a ball, squatting on the floor, hugging your knees.

“Why did you do what you do?!” Ian’s guttural voice roared through the peace of the night at you, and you stood up in response.

“Why did you do what you do!” you growled just as loud, but your voice was broken.

“Suri was devastated to have lost you, I was too! I didn’t understand why you would erase our memories that way… Everything we went through, every sleepless night? Our troubles? You would throw it all away? And now you’re married? With Seokjin?”

“It meant nothing to you and Suri, so I must as well erase myself from your life. I did it so you could be happy, I would not be a burden for you anymore. For both of you…” you explained through sobs and tears falling like pearls under this light.

“Why can’t you just stay? We still love you…” Ian stretches his arm, to touch yours but you swat them away before he could.

You shook your head. You were embarrassed, angry, jealous— you were all sorts of things, all sorts of emotions that they couldn’t possibly understand. There is one more question that you didn’t answer: why did you marry Seokjin.

“Love each other, and forget I ever existed. It is for the best. Seokjin is here with me now… He might not be the person I wanted, but he is here…”

Ian called your name softly.

“Be happy! Be insanely happy and don’t look for me, it is what you deserved, it's what Suri deserved, you guys have been nothing but kind to me, I want to thank you for that, that’s why I came. Seokjin told me to.”

Ian shook his head in disbelief. A part of him refuses to believe that Seokjin was that kind of guy. You were making up things in your head and there is nothing he could say to convince you that Seokjin was only putting up a front. Like he always does, how he always has.

“And don’t worry about what happened in autumn,” you begin, “the day I told you about those things. Those stupid thing. I was never in love with you or anything like that. I just wanted you to know how much you meant to me.”

Ian looks hurt.

“I was supposed to tell you about Suri at the time,

but I couldn’t break you,” he confessed.

“And what am I now?

Am I not broken?” you glanced up at him, in composed fury.

Ian hung his head low, jaws clenched and he bites the insides of his cheek as he wallows in the words you say and how true it was. He should have told you at the time. It might not have hurt any less, but it would have saved the friendship, or the remnants of it. You would have gotten the idea instead of playing along with the charade. Suri insisted for Ian not to tell you, but Ian didn’t tell her that you had feelings for him. Because of his silence, you thought you had a chance until it was revealed to you, prior to the cruise with Seokjin.

“We are going home,” a stern voice broke the silence. Seokjin.

Seokjin marches at you, grabs your wrist and you follow while Ian stands there, frozen in his place.

He parked in front of the lobby where everyone coming in and out can be seen. There was a guard that occasionally pick up the radio to report on the situation. The Lamborghini blinks as Seokjin unlocks them. He opened the door for you and after you entered, he walked around the car and climbed into the driver seat. When he placed his hand on the initiator, your hand covered his knuckle. He glances up, to see Ian around the lobby searching for you. Seokjin then glanced to the side where you were. You had your face turned away from him, biting your nail as you said, “Can we not go home just yet? Can’t we just sit here for a while…?”

Seokjin grabbed your chin and enveloped your lips with his own. He did it so harshly, firm and rough, like he was in a hurry, like he wanted you, needed you. His nose clashes with yours as he moves to the other side, without ending the kiss. His lips parted just enough to glide his tongue in yours, kneading his flesh with yours. Giveon’s ‘Like I Want You’ was playing on the radio. His free hand rode up underneath your skirt, in between your thigh— up and down, teasing you. You quivered his name out your bruised lips but he hummed back, not paying attention to you— he was chasing his arousals. Noticing that you’ve drifted back into reality slightly, he tips your chin up and delivers another searing kiss. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Ian standing stunned and wordlessly. Seokjin relished the sight. You snaked your palm up Seokjin’s neck, thumbing his ear lobe.

How does it feel? How does it feel to see the girl that liked you, savored by another man?

That’s what you put her through. Now watch me love her, taste her, feel her.

You dropped your palm on his crotch, noticing that he was so turned on. You parted from him and stared deep into his eyes.

Shit. You’re so wet you could barely think. You repelled from him and he slowly retracted himself. He ran his hand down his face and started the engine with a push of a button.

“I saw Ian and wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine,” Seokjin explained in a croaky voice, “Never beg for love. No matter what the price is.”

Silence from you.

“It won’t happen again…” he added.

Your heart sunk at the declaration.

“Funny that I have you at a price too,” you chuckled bitterly, staring out the window at the view of trees from a moving car, “I will always have to beg for love, and that’s something you won’t understand.”

Seokjin gripped tighter on the steering wheel, fighting the urge of pushing you down the car seat and fuck you right there and then. The way your eyes looked when you confronted Ian, reminded him so much of himself. They were hopeful, innocent, shattered and brittling at the same time. The pain in your entire being that you brought in that car with you was something he couldn’t handle. When you whispered how unloved you felt, he felt a tug in the chambers of his heart. Always being the option and never the only choice. With him, you too were an option. The love after Rachel, after many of Seokjin’s love. The loneliness you must have felt, would have been unbearable.

Losing your best friend to the man you love, losing the man you love to your best friends, losing your mother to a disease she is still fighting, losing your father to the debt he carried, losing your brother for the selfish choice he made, and now, losing Seokjin to Rachel once all of this is done— you are God’s most pitiful creation and even fate, picks it’s favorite.

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To be continued…

For those who are wondering how Seokjin ended up watching movies at your small apartment— fret not, the explanation will arrive shortly. Your father wanted to care for your mother for the night because you have an online class early in the morning tomorrow according to the schedule. Your father didn’t want you to spend the night alone in the apartment. Not when a broke-in burglary happened just two lots away. The knob on the main door is not secure at all— rusting at the base and rattling upon use, leaving reddish brown stain upon contact. Seokjin wipes his hand to the back of his trousers. Embarrassed, you grabbed a pack of wet tissue from the kitchen counter and handed them to him. Thankfully, he took them and didn’t make much comments over the mishap. The anti-rust liquid coming from the spray trailing down to the lower part of the door was your last effort to fix the knob. But to no avail, the damage is done. Seokjin is no stranger to the sorry state of your survival.

He brought pizzas and some chicken wings— quite well-prepared for a sudden appointment. To be honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if he rejected the offer. The fact that he didn’t, set your body on fire. You never have anyone over. Ever since your mother was hospitalized and your father unemployed, you didn’t have time to properly tidy up the house except the bare minimum. Seokjin notices an invitation on the kitchen table when he sets the pizza down. He asked about it and you just shove it into the bin. It was Ian’s and Suri’s second wedding invitation that they had sent to your home address. Such persistence. Although Seokjin caught the tiny hint of hostility, he didn’t dwell on it too much and you were secretly grateful for that. You would have to explain the reasons why and it will sound petty to another ear; that, you know. No one will understand your actions.

Sound of Metal is still playing on the television.

All of a sudden, you received a call.

“Yes, that’s me, how can I help you?” you cover your mouth over the phone and crawl on both knees before you stand up. Seokjin held the remote and turned the volume down. Seokjin watches your small back standing by the kitchen counter, hunched over like you were on the phone with your drug dealer. You folded your toes on the floor, twisting your ankle around as the call drags. Not long after the call, there’s some voices out the door and you reach out to the knob, yanking the door flaps open. You were inviting, and you turned all the lights on, surprising Seokjin. He crept beside you while you showed the stranger the rooms in the house.

“This room is rarely used, we use it to store medical things… so the light doesn’t work well,” you explained.

“And the master bedroom?” the person enquire politely, with a slide tilt of his head.

“Ah yes, it’s right next to it,” you motioned, “There's a bathroom and window. But it’s never opened.”

Seokjin locked eyes with the stranger, so he switched immediately to a smile.

“Oh, I am so sorry, I seem to be interrupting something with your boyfriend, I apologize,” the stranger bowed repeatedly at you and Seokjin.

“Husband,” Seokjin corrected him, “That’s quite alright, no problem.”

The stranger gests, “I would have come in the day if you say you couldn’t entertain me tonight.”

You clasped your hands together and forced out a straight line on your lips, speaking through a forced grin, “He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight, it was unplanned…” You side-eyed Seokjin. Your husband moves to see the stranger out. Once the person is gone, you head back to the movie, ushering Seokjin to rewind a bit because you missed some parts. A minute or so, Seokjin moved his attention to his lap, fumbling over his belt and mumbled, “Who was that?”

“Interested buyer,” you shot.

So you plan to sell this house.

“And where do you plan to stay after?”

“The campus dorm for a while until I could find a more affordable apartment,” you explained through heaved sigh, “For now we need the money to cover the hospital bills.”

That was it? No further explanations?

“And you decide this all without talking to me?” Seokjin swung his head in your direction, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I didn’t think-”

“Exactly.”

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“Do you always make decisions on impulse? On intuition?” Seokjin raised his voice slightly, making you comically jump because you weren’t expecting such a tone.

“Excuse me…” you growled back, “How is this any of your concern? I told you I will figure it out, do not worry about it.”

“And where will your father stay?”

“At the hospital. With mom.”

“And your brother?”

“At the barracks where he trains!”

“And you?”

“I just told you, at the dorm!”

“How am I supposed to see you in the dorm? We are married!”

You moved the pizza box away, scoffing before you swung your head to face him.

“You’re taking this whole husband thing way too seriously now, I think we need to set boundaries over these blurred lines because I feel that you are terrorizing your rights at the moment,” you squeezed your eye at him.

Seokjin opens and closes his mouth, opens it and closes it again.

“You are going to be homeless, how are you so chill about this?!”

“Because I’ve gone through the worst things! Being homeless isn’t going to kill me.”

You are certainly pushing the limit of human survival. It is then you realize the severe differences you and Seokjin had. The sheer fear he wore on his handsome delectable face. His hands clammy and uncertain. He is gluing his eyes on the television screen but you know his mind is everywhere else but on the movie.

If I help you, you would refuse it, won’t you?

Seokjin swallowed a thick gulp down his throat.

“You’re unfamiliar with this, I get it,” you hugged your knees and rested your chin on them. Your eyes wander around the makings of your old apartment and take a deep breath in. This old ragged torn curtain on the window. The moldy ceiling walls. The chipped windows and bad lighting. A brown stain on the kitchen floor that won’t go no matter how hard you scrub or what you scrub it with. This is far from Seokjin’s private jets, personal helicopter and sports car. That night when he ridiculed your desperation, you didn’t even have the time to process the hurt because you were so busy thinking about all the money that you could have to provide for your family.

“I have no choice Seokjin…” your voice falls quiet.

“The money I pay you will come soon, will that help you keep this house?” Seokjin blinks away from the screen and straight at you. His voice is firm and unwavering. It has been awhile since you heard such stability. He felt like a safe place, a shoulder to rest your head on. When he says those words, your world lights up and the broken pieces put themselves back together again. The dewy look in his eyes, his lips— they all conspired to have you clutch on the little things. It was the first time you have ever felt looked at. It was frightening, harrowing even— to be seen and cared for. Even for just that moment.

You couldn’t find your voice so you nodded, slowly.

He held out his hand and you lifted yours to reach it. His palm is so inviting.

But he pushes it away, “Your phone, I meant.”

You lowered your gaze immediately and fished for your phone. Seokjin called the number and texted that the house is no longer for sale. He added that there was a change in thoughts and that the owner wishes to stay in the house and he regrets the inconvenience. He shoved the phone back to you.

“Next time, discuss with me. Be it financial, commodities, utilities, whatever. You talk to me first,” Seokjin sternly said, “As the person who pays you, I want to know where my money goes.”

The movie ended.

“Would you like to take a shower first before bed or— “ you drawled.

“Shower…” he shot dryly.

“Okay… you can have the bedroom, I’ll sleep on the couch outside. I’ll get some towels first,” you huddled to the cupboard to fetch said towel when Seokjin suddenly yelped from the living room.

You swung your head around and rushed over with a folded towel in your hand.

His jaw hung open, twitching as he pointed to the soda spilled all over the couch. The only couch in the house. You dragged your eyes up to Seokjin and proceeded to whine his full name out. Seokjin fetches tissues from the kitchen but heads to the drawer in the kitchen cabinet for cloth instead, after your commands. You were going off about how he behaves like a toddler, spilling things over the couch and how difficult it is to make sure the couch is completely dry now that sweet carbonated drink drenched over it. Sofa is ruined, and Seokjin’s ear gets pulled when you’re done. He screams.

“Where am I supposed to sleep now?”

“We can share the bed…” he rubs his neck, “There’s no other choice. You don’t want to wake up sore for class tomorrow…”

You let out a shaky exhale. He does have a point. What’s the worst that could happen?

There he goes again, screaming.

As you tidied the bedsheet and provided a blanket to each so you don’t have to share, you poke your head to the bathroom door frame, where Seokjin is hugging himself, standing on the toilet seat.

“C-c-cockroaches,” his fore finger trembling as it points out the culprit, sneaking underneath the sink with its antennas moving. You threw your head back and groaned. What a drama queen. It’s just roaches, for goodness sake.

You whack it with a slipper and crush it with your hand before flushing it down the toilet. Pests. Seokjin is still there squatting, quivering. You had to turn the water heater on because he doesn't know how to operate a manually dialed heater. The one he has was automated. The light is flickering while he showers so he called out for you, because he got spooked. When you say that it was nothing, he let you leave only to call you repeatedly.

“Man, for a 5 feet 10 something dude, you’re literally a baby…What is it now?” you grumbled to your chest as you marched into the bathroom and opened the door to see him in his baby suit. You turned away and covered your eyes immediately.

“What do you want?” you groaned, positively annoyed and flustered over the view.

“Wanted to tell you that I’m done,” he ties the towel around his waist and walks beside you squeezing by the tiny door frame. His wet skin brushed over your blouse and he chuckles at you clenching your eyes shut.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it all…” he clicked his tongue and spoke in a low voice.

“Yeah I thought we weren’t supposed to mention that…” you protested.

“If we showered together, we could have saved the water bill…” he narrows the distance between his face and yours. Taking the chance that you don’t see him, his eyes soften as he studies your features. Your fingernails, your baby hair sprouting out, your heaving chest and goosebumps forming over them. He remembered how your nipples erected over the blanket in the cruise when he left you there in bed, in the morning. How thoroughly tired you looked, with marks all over your neck and chest. He contemplated whether he should give you a kiss goodbye, but decided that it would only amount to more questionable things than he’d like to explain.

Suddenly, you moved your head in his direction, sniffing. Narrowly missing his lips.

You grabbed his chin roughly.

“Did you use my fucking shampoo?” Your eyes blasted open and he retracted.

“I might.”

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After you showered, both of you crawled into bed. Seokjin his blanket over his chest and you pulled yours over your shoulder. You were laying on your side, with your back facing him while he faced the ceiling. Studying the cracks it had, How unfamiliar is this. The last time you shared a bed, it was barely big enough for one. This time it’s a queen sized bed but doesn’t allow much space to move. The mattress is springy and it makes noise at every motion made. Seokjin finally feel the alcohol kicking in now, but not enough for him to do stupid things. He just feels a little dizzy, a little on the cloud nine— if you may.

“I can’t sleep…” he darted.

No response from your side.

He leaned on one elbow and hooked his chin over your shoulder, “Are you sleeping?”

“Yes,” you shot, annoyed.

“Why would you answer if you were?” Seokjin slumps back into his space.

“Just close your God damn eyes and go the fuck to sleep, before I whack you unconscious with a broomstick…” you grumbled through gritted teeth, fisting your blanket tighter.

“I can’t sleep in an unfamiliar place…”

“Literally you’re the one who told my dad you wanted to be here…”

“Talk to me… Tell me a story. My nanny always tells me a story.”

“Seokjin you’re 29.” “Come on… Don’t bring age into this discussion. Tell me something you never told someone. Anything…”

“Jesus, like what?” You switched to face him. He bounces at your movements.

“Scars. Do you have a scar?”

You carefully thought about it, and, “Yeah I have scars. I have one over my left knee cap. I was playing on the bicycle and fell, grazing the tar road, right here,” you showed him.

“Hm, can’t really see it…” Seokjin hummed while carefully inspecting the said scar.

“That’s because my mom rubbed banana peels on it. Everyday, until it’s gone.”

“Nice… only one?”

“There’s another one under my chin… that’s why I like looking down. That way no one would notice it…”

Seokjin noticed it the first night you were in bed with him, but it didn’t register to him then that it was a scar, that used to be a wound.

“How did that one happened?”

“Mom and dad were in a fight, mom pushed me off the staircase when I tried to stop them. No hard feelings because now I know how frustrating men could be,” you shrugged and put your hand between your legs.

“What about you Seokjin? Do you have a scar?”

He shook his head. So you could deduce that he must have had a pampered childhood. Or a lonely one— you couldn’t decide. His face puffed as he thought of the next topic.

“What’s your dream?”

You try to come up with a quick answer to get it over with but— nothing comes out on your mind no matter how hard you try. Dreams? What is my dream?

“Um, my mom to be able to live her life the way it was. Have my dad live a debt-free life. And for my brother to graduate from his police school.”

Seokjin chuckles. He chuckles again now that he sees your confused face.

“What??”

“Those are not dreams you want for yourself, it’s the dreams you want for others! I’m asking about your dream. What you want!”

You paused for a brief moment, “I never really thought about it, no one had ever asked me that,” more pauses and, “I want to be a scientist… get a job with higher pay so I could live better. That’s my easy answer. It’s the appropriate answer.”

“What’s your dream if money wasn’t an issue?” Seokjin laced his fingers and rested them on top of his stomach.

Money is always an issue. Seokjin questions were all questions you have never asked yourself. No one was ever interested in them, in the answers. All these while you are coping with live day-by-day. You have never truly thought about the future. You took science because you had potential, as your counselor suggested. You’re good at it, you don’t necessarily really love it. It was the next rational decision to bring your family out of poverty. A rational decision is not a dream. Up until this moment, your dreams were built around the chances and opportunities you have and the mountains you know you could climb; all these signifies one thing— safety. You never truly dreamt. You mold your existence, your goals and aspirations around the things you face and what is achievable.

“When I find out, I’ll let you know, how’s that?” you suggested, and poke your hand over the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t realize you have a mole there.”

Seokjin turns red.

“Don’t touch my face… I don’t like that,” he warned.

“Sorry…” you moved slightly away.

Seokjin shrugs and nodded, “Yeah I have mole here, you never paid attention to it…”

You gawked, “How am I supposed to pay attention to it if every time we meet all I want to do is shove my hand down your throat?!”

“I have one on my collarbone, remember that?” Seokjin hooks his finger over the brims of his neck hole and pulls it down to show you. Your eyes travelled everywhere but there.

“Yes, yes,” you repeated, shoving it off.

“You’re not really looking, look at it…” he followed your eyes.

“Why are we suddenly talking about moles!”

“You’re the one poking mine. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How many moles do you have?”

You rolled your eyes. You sit up and pull your hair to one side. Then you point to one mole behind your left ear lobe. One on your left shoulder blade.

“That’s all.”

Seokjin stares at you quizzically as you lay back on the bed. Unconvinced that that was all. You didn’t want to ask him why he was staring but the way he was tutting his tongue annoyed you.

“I don’t think that is all. I specifically remembered one more at least, a very prominent one…” you heard him say.

“That’s probably from other girls Seokjin… You got yourself confused—” then you hitched your breathing when you felt a warm hand palming over your left knee, travelling up your thigh. You cursed yourself for wearing boxer shorts to bed. He sat up, pulled down your blankets and pushed your boxers brim up to see your left thigh.

“There,” he thumbed over the little mole, before he licked his lips then gazed up to meet your eyes, “I remember it because it was sticking out the blanket in the morning I left.” So sexy. Your thigh was out the blanket for him to see the mole clearly. After witnessing that, he kept thinking about you in slit dresses high enough for that mole to pop out. To be seen by everyone, but only his to touch.

Seokjin moves into his side of the bed again after a small goodnight wish. He lay his head in his palm, starting to feel hot all of a sudden but was unable to throw the blanket away because he had urgent matters to address in between his legs. He palms it down in a desperate attempt to calm the raging boner. How is he so vulnerable around you? Just a little contact, a little touch leaves his head riled up with indecent thoughts. Maybe he really did take this marriage thing seriously.

She doesn’t love you, man. Get your shit together.

Right next to him, you were rubbing your thighs together. Had you not reminded him that you had an early morning class tomorrow, would he have advanced to more than just a touch? A kiss perhaps? A full blown making out session? Maybe his dick half inside you instead of clenching over nothing? You are sweating profusely. He is just right there. But it feels so wrong. Why are you always horny at the worst time? You remember being better at controlling this. Why so desperate? From just a little brush of his finger? How embarrassing!

Please let the morning come quick.

You prayed.

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“Babe, wake up. I think you have class…” Seokjin’s voice softly awakens you. When you peek through one eye, you see your lecturer and your classmates watching you. Seokjin is shirtless and was next to you in close proximity.

“Your boyfriend may join the lecture if he wants,” Dr. Mah invites.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you rubbed your eyes and pinch your nose bridge, sitting awake. The whole class gasped. Then is it your one night stand?

“Your sexual activity is none of my concern,” Dr. Mah reminds.

Realizing what that could signify, you hurried to correct yourself, “No, no it’s not like that. He’s my husband! I’m not having casual sex or anything that is not safe…” The seconds felt long when it registered to you what you have done. You yourself had announced to the world you know that you are now Kim Seokjin’s wife. You gulped as you caught Suri and Ian’s dejected face on the box before they switched off the video.

Seokjin smirks and lays his head on the headboard while checking his phone idly.

Moments before…

The alarms rang simultaneously with Zoom meeting calls. Seokjin frowns awake. You have your face plastered on his back, arms wrapped around his tiny waist. Your phone was charging on his side of the bed, so he pressed the receive call button out of habit. Seokjin had taken off his shirt mid through sleeping because it got really hot in the A.Ms. The video was on and his collarbone and the mole on it was on full display. He didn’t know who was the lecturer but he had the idea that perhaps the bald one fixing his glasses and clearing his throat might be the one. The older man called out your full name and Seokjin finally came out of his snooze to address the matter.

He shook your shoulder softly, nuzzling his nose tip over your shoulder calling you, “Baby, baby” repeatedly, “Baby, your lecturer is calling for you. You have class, remember?”

Some of your classmates covered their mouth, fetching their phone to text. Gaping over the scandalous view. The best student of the batch is in bed with a shirtless handsome man, and it was the same man that fetched her in a blue Lamborghini! The campus’s good girl is leading a double life! To Ian and Suri, it comes as a legit surprise, totally out of this world. You have never been on a date, now you’re married?! You didn’t even invite them to the wedding! They didn’t even know when! And let alone Kim Seokjin?! This was so sudden! And it all felt like a strange set up to them. Now, with the whole class as witness, there’s no other way to cover this up. You have officially lost your whole world to this pretense marriage.

“Keep the video on,” Seokjin mouthed at you behind the phone. You had to keep your face expressionless so you won’t draw attention to you again, after the chaos you have caused. Why were you so tired anyways? You normally have no problem waking up no matter how late you slept. You didn’t drift directly to sleep because you were fighting your hormone urges to literally jump on Seokjin and devour him whole. You weren’t asleep because you were busy rationalizing your head over the things that aren’t sex. And it was such a good sleep. It’s been awhile since you felt safe in bed. Knowing that you could trust this person with your life. Or else his father will come after his neck. He felt warm and strong, and his chest smelled so good, his hands, fingers. Saliva pools in your mouth when you visibly gulp at the object of your secret carnal desire is standing by the door with a Starbucks bought iced-Americano sent over by delivery. He hands you it after he took a mouthful sip of it, making sure he was in the camera frame and planting a kiss on your neck before he leaves.

He puts on his work attire, his dress shirt and slacks. You can’t help but catch his bulge slightly out for display over the curve of the slacks as he tuck his dress shirt in behind the camera. He directs his forefinger to you then back to the camera phone where your class is ongoing. You crossed your eyes at him and he shook his head.

“In the graph it’s clear that the Fick’s First Law of Diffusion centers around concentration. Concentration of what? Of the drug plasma concentration. And when we talk about rate, we are always referring to what? To the time…” Dr. Mah continues.

Then, Seokjin appears one more time in the camera frame of yours, hunched over to give you a kiss on the forehead, or two, or three times. Just to say he is going to work. You pushed him away because you got shy. So far, everyone is buying the facade. It better stayed that way. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Seokjin locking the main door behind him before he leaves, then he makes sure it stays locked after he shut them.

That was very thoughtful. And very un-Seokjin like.

A few minutes later, you heard his signature Lamborghini roar down the road, and a message chimes in.

[Seokjin]: Remember what you promised.

Your face flares up in heat at the words. Last night, before you drifted to silence so you could sleep, Seokjin asked for you to tell him your dreams, whatever it was, he wanted to know. After repeatedly telling him you couldn’t name one on the spot, he said, and he said this in such a coaxing way you couldn’t refuse,

“Start thinking about one each day, starting tomorrow…”

“That’s impossible,” you rolled your eyes with your back still turned towards him.

“I don’t care how you’re going to do it, I just want you to come up with a dream. Every single day, yours, not anyone else. It must be yours alone, it is about your wants, be as selfish as you can,” he stresses.

“I can’t be selfish— “ you protested.

“Start being. You have to. Or you’ll lose yourself trying to appease others,” he curls into a bowl, laying on his side, clutching on the tip of the pillow like his life depends on it.

Silence from your side.

“Text me one, each day…” he added.

“Sure whatever.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Suddenly he stretched his hand out with a pinky boink out. His arm was long enough without you having to turn to your back. Blinking at it, you finally hooked your pinky with his, then unhooked it immediately.

“Stamp…”

“What?”

“It’s not sealed if isn’t stamped,” he said.

That’s how the promise was sealed.

[Seokjin]: Remember what you promised.

[Seokjin]: ??

You dragged down the pop up message on top and tapped reply. Before you could word out your dream, you mauled over the thought. What is your dream if you only had you to think of?

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Seokjin visits the housing site. He has built a village consisting of high-end sophisticated technologically-advanced villas. There are only 30 units built and there was a man-made lake in the middle. There is also a small fort that allows private-own sailing boats to sail the ocean. He plans to install only eco-friendly devices in the area under this housing and the project had been well supported by the shareholders after it was proposed about 2 years ago. His father never said a word about it, but that was his way of saying that it is a potential project. The only comment he ever got from Senior Kim was how pretentious it was. In his words the project only “concerns the top 1% of the country project while doing absolutely nothing for the economy of the nation,” which Seokjin tried to fix, by allowing foreign investors to chip in through an exclusive stockholders and potential buyers-only party that is arranged to happen in a few more weeks.

He is quite nervous about it; his driver stops at the second house around the lake and Seokjin steps outside of the company sedan with his hand in his pocket. The engineer is already at work, discussing with the contractor. Seokjin, easily the one at the top of the food chain when he steps in, gets dry greetings, suffice with the formality he brings. He shook his hand and smiled, “No, no, there’s no need for the bowings, I’m just here to watch how you guys are coping…” He gests. He thought that if he comes here, he becomes more informed with the situation his underlings are dealing with, then maybe, just maybe, his father would approve his efforts. He bore his heart and soul in this project, talked with designers and contractors and engineers alike, just to get the most appropriate information about the building from ground up. For the designs, each villa was unique to its own but still bore the similar traits that carries the prestige of the Kim Holdings. He designed them personally with the help of architects and engineers. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was his baby.

Seokjin personally babied the second house. On the outside it was already perfect to his eyes. The wide windows, the porch and small garden but on the inside, he felt like it was missing major domestic touches. Today, the contractors and interior designer are beginning to deduce a concept for the kitchen. Kitchen is of course the heart of the home. It also happens to be Seokjin’s favorite place. Seokjin carefully points out with his hand the things he wanted and where, the cabinets colors and where the counters should be. He gives clear and concise commands, the interior design immediately understood the image he was trying to create. He had a vivid image of the whole kitchen and it was nothing short of impressive. Only last night he billed a list of things he wanted installed to the project group and they all are working around the clock to make it happen.

Within an hour, the interior designer comes up with a whole design of the kitchen. With an approval nod and a big smile from Seokjin, the work began. About 2 hours ago, when Seokjin left his Lamborghini in the company CEO’s parking spot, you texted him an image and a caption,

[You]: *sends an image*

[You]: my dream kitchen. Bigger oven, bigger space to knead flours in.

Seokjin remembered your face as you ate the pizza he bought. You eat the bread part slowly, relishing in the taste. You told him that you knew how to make pizza and sold a few before you started university and if you had a chance you wanted to make more because your brother loves it, but you don’t have the space to make one because the place you rented is closed and now, demolished.

“I love cooking... but as you can see, that kitchen had nothing working and the university banned me from using their culinary faculty,” you shrugged, “They say it’s only for their culinary students. Which was fair,” The sparkles in your eyes completely disappear at the mention of culinary faculty. You would have been a great chef. Seokjin knows how much you love home cooking, and you always bring some at every visit to his father’s mansion. Be it spicy broiled potato stew, grilled mackerels or fried rice. Seokjin dares to vouch that your fried rice is the best one he has ever had. Although he will never vocally admit it.

“Make sure the oven is big and the counter, large,” Seokjin submits a final reminder, “But don’t make it look disproportionate.” He bought everyone lunch and returned to his office for paperwork, in case he needs to read over agreements and sign things. Also because he is terrified of his secretary. He sits in his chair, leafing over documents after documents, project proposals and adding comments here and there when his office phone chimes. He stabbed the ‘speaker’ button with the bottom of his Parker pen and darted, “Yup…”

“There is someone in the lobby who wants to drop something for you, she says it’s dinner and thank you for the pizza and wings last night,” Yoongi, Seokjin’s secretary drawls over the phone line. Then the said secretary turned to the side where Seokjin’s office was and squeezed his eyes suspiciously. Seokjin blinks over to Yoongi and fetches the phone handle saying, “That’s the wife… can you bring her up for me?”

Yoongi tutted his tongue and gave Seokjin a Cheshire cat smile through the glass mirror, “Sure thing, boss…” Seokjin slammed the phone down and pursed his lips in annoyance.

Several floors down,

“Um, miss? Mr. Seokjin asks you to deliver it yourself,” the kind lady on the front desk with a neat ballerina bun said. She also mentioned that she will personally show you the way. Security is no kidding in this building. You took your neatly tied bento and followed the tall lady. Scuffling behind her, you keep fixing your hair and neatening your blouse. You were clearly underdressed, far too casual for this visit— which you severely regret. Your plan was just to say thank you and bolt out, why did he have to send you up? The lady gracefully pointed you to the hall that leads to Seokjin’s personal office.

The whole interior screams crisp and extravagant nuance to it, furnished with only the finest cabinets and doors. The floors are marble and the walls are littered with artworks you remember Seokjin’s mother likes to collect. The benches are leather finish, and exude an aura of endless exorbitant materials. After you turned to the corner, you saw a men, in 3-piece suits bowing at you, and calling your honorary title, “Lady Kim,” the man greeted, placing his hand over his heart and bowing, “Min Yoongi, Mr. Kim’s personal secretary at your disposal. May I escort you?”

You bowed back and stammered, “S-sure, p-please. I don’t know the way… I might find my way to the next building if I’m not careful…” you chuckled nervously.

“Ah, that would be quite impossible considering you need to build a bridge first but I will propose the excellent idea towards the man of the house,” he jests. You cracked a more genuine smile when you somehow understood his dry sense of humor. He is quite hilarious and quite lovely. Years of working with Seokjin might have made him an excellent people reader. You wondered why such positive quality never really brushed off on Seokjin. Yoongi stands in front of the door and knocks twice. You heard a stern, full of authority, “Come in,” muffled through the door. The knob was turned and Yoongi allowed you in. Seokjin stood up and walked around the table to hold the door open until you stepped fully inside.

He chewed his lips behind you as you asked him where you could settle yourself with your eyes. He points to the small coffee table where several chairs were found. It was right in front of his desk— its surfaces were barely visible from the mountain of files stacked on top of it. Your eyes drifted to the wall clock he has on the opposing wall and then back to the stack of files. Looks like dinner wasn’t in the plan any time soon. When you turned to him, he was forcing out a smile.

“Why are you smiling? Stop smiling. It’s weird.”

“I can’t, I have to. Yoongi’s watching…”

“Close the shades then…”

“I can't, I don’t have the remote…”

“Who has the remote?”

“Yoongi does…”

“Holy mushrooms… is he terrorizing you? Blink twice if you need help.”

“It’s not like that, he is just worried I’ll cry while I work,” he rambles and darts his eyes up at you, and clears his throat, “It’s a long story.”

“You cried?”

“Let’s never talk about that, ever again,” he moves next to you and has you seated while you were still asking why he cried. He continues, “What did you bring for dinner?”

You suddenly zapped into the presence and the reason why you were here. Your hands proceed to untie the bento but stopped because it felt strange opening the things you prepared yourself. You pushed the bento over to him. His pretty long fingers untied the knot easily and you looked away as you figured the view of his hand were a little too aphrodisiac to handle at this distance. Seokjin saw the little teddy bear rice balls with seaweed eyes and inari cap and he couldn’t resist smiling. There is an egg sandwich on the side, some egg rolls that look like a motorcycle underneath the mickey mouse toothpick. There is also some gummy bear from the brands he liked, without orange gummy bear. Seokjin smiled at the thoughtful gesture. He doesn’t like orange gummy bears and always leaves it for you because it was too sour for him. You remembered that little known fact.

“I made some fried rice underneath just in case you’re still hungry. And there’s stir fried fish cake too… and toasted lavers,” you said, scrolling down idly on your phone. Seokjin took the chopstick and spoon, and devoured them. He offers a bite. You shook your head.

“Listen to me, Yoongi is the first person we need to convince. He might not look the part, but he will report everything to my father, so it’s best that we make it appear as genuine as it can,” he explains through gritted teeth and poses an angelic smile at you. You gingerly approach the wooden spoon with a mountain of rice and let him feed you.

“Good girl…” he says in a way that makes your stomach dipped.

You prayed he didn’t notice how flustered you become. You started coughing because one of the rice grains went to your airway and Seokjin was right about Yoongi always surveilling because he arrived with a cup of water for you and was standing inside Seokjin’s office. You didn’t notice when he even came in but he is here and he is handing you the water. Seokjin scooped another spoon for himself while you were choking. Typical Seokjin. He only handed you his handkerchief.

“Thank you, Yoongi…” Seokjin said instead of you. You only thanked him through your hair.

“You’re welcome…” Yoongi leaves.

Seokjin drank down the ginseng soup you brewed for him. It was piping hot when you packed it, now it's just nice to drink. He made a grunting sound right after.

“That’s a good ginseng. Dad sent it, right?”

“Y-yea,” you stuttered, still recovering from the coughing fit.

Seokjin cleaned the whole bento. Not a grain of rice was left. It was clear that he was starving and he was burping when he took the bentos away from you. You insisted that you could wash it when you return home, but he said it was the least he could do since you did all the cooking, and he let the door open so Yoongi could hear how nice he was as a husband. An A-grade acting skill. While you wait, you wipe the desk with a tissue. You have always been obsessed with keeping things clean and in order. As you threw the used tissue away, you were interrupted by Yoongi, knocking at the door with a toothbrush set.

“Looks like he forgot to bring his toothbrush over, he always brushes his teeth after meals… would you mind?” Yoongi pleads, and watching your hesitance he adds, “I have an international call to take, they put me on hold for now…”

You inhaled a small puff of air in through your mouth and took the toothbrush from Yoongi’s hand as he said, down the hall to the left, Seokjin’s personal bathroom.

“You have a tub in your bathroom??” your voice echoed through the marble walls and made Seokjin jump in his place, your bento almost flying out the sink. Seokjin groans and starts hissing, “Why are you here?”

You wiggled his toothbrush set in his face.

“Yoongi took it out knowing that you were coming upstairs, I knew it… that’s why he left his desk. And I thought it was to take a personal call from dad…” Seokjin grumbles accusatively, “Smart. You didn’t do anything suspicious like refusing to come into the baths right?”

You paused.

“Well I’m not really desperate to be raking you in the bathroom, so I was hesitating a bit, not sure if this was allowed in office settings, with all the staff here you know… I think it was an appropriate move coming from a lady such as myself…” you defended yourself, adding with a flick of your hair, “Besides, I’m a wife, not a hoe.”

Seokjin dries his hand with a cloth hanging by the mirror stand. Then he roughly grabs the toothbrush from you and squeezed the paste out the tube. While he does that, you screened the bathroom. The white gold finish, studded designs. Rows of bath bombs and scented candles of all fragrance available. The light behind the mirror and cabinet full of towels. He could practically live here. He could, but he wouldn’t. But you would.

“My cockroach infested bathroom is nothing compared with this…”

“Don’t forget flickering light bulbs…”

“Yeah, flickering bulbs. If I ever sell my house, can I stay here?”

“You’re not selling your damned house, no one would buy them.”

“The guy last night would. But you told him not to.”

“What kind of husband lets a wife stay in a toilet…? Sometimes when you talk, you don’t think and I don’t know how you live this long…”

“With a lot of patient people. And you, not being one.”

Walking back, Seokjin is hugging the bento and you follow him out. However, Yoongi isn’t around. His desktop is still on, signifying that he hasn’t left. But the look in Seokjin’s eyes suggested that it could be one of his shenanigans. Guard’s up.

“I have a few more files to look into, so you could just sit there and mind your own business,” Seokjin shooed you away with his hand.

“But I want to go home now, the last bus— “

“If you mention one more time about the last bus on whatever time, I will throw your transportation card out the fucking window and then you,” Seokjin leans in his chair, shifting papers and turning away from you, and, “You knew that if you come here, I will have to send you home.”

“I didn’t plan to come up, you told me to,” you shot back.

All you hear is him shifting the papers, and the sound of the paper scraping the fabric of his dress shirt then he said, “Would have it been more appropriate to send you away and paint myself as a bad husband while you play your good wife roles hm? Tell me, darling…” he said in a sing-song voice that shudders you. Seokjin knew exactly what he was doing. Rubbing your knees sitting restlessly, eyes travel wherever they please— you seem to find new things to look at and explore. Checking your emails from your phone, you decided that maybe you could start listing down assignments you need to do in accordance to their due date. And for that, you need a paper and a pen.

“Seokjinnie…” you whispered, “Seokjin— “

“Hm,” Seokjin replied.

“Do you have any small post-it notes I can write on?”

The chair spun around and not long after that, you heard a drawer being opened. He took a new stack of it from his drawer. You sprung to your feet and he shook his hand, insisting that he’ll come there instead. When the paper got to you, you shaped your hand into holding an imaginary pen and mouthed the word at him. He immediately gave you the pen he is currently using. You froze a little, not wanting him to give up the pen he needs. Understanding from that look alone, he said, “I have more.”

An hour passes by, it’s almost 10pm. Seokjin is reading earnestly and not showing signs that he’s leaving soon. He went from sitting down in the chair, to pacing left and right, to consulting Yoongi who was still outside taking calls at this hour. Don’t companies this big have a department specifically for taking international calls? Seokjin had unbuttoned the top two of his dress shirts by this time. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow and his hair is a little disheveled. Two minutes after the call, Yoongi knocks on the door to Seokjin’s office.

“The contractor can’t do weekends. Maybe next week, the earliest…” Yoongi began, talking about something you weren’t aware of. You know better not to butt in matters that aren’t yours to figure.

Without looking up from the stock index he has in his hand, Seokjin leans on his table, crossing his ankles and shifts to the next paper while answering to Yoongi, “We can’t have anyone else do it, contractor Park has always been the one we called. Can’t he push back whatever else he had at the moment for old time’s sake?” It was disguised as a question but Yoongi worked long enough with this family to know that it isn’t. Yoongi stood there still, possibly trying to word a sentence that would make his boss understand that it was simply non-negotiable. Judging from his work ethics, he probably had mentioned that ‘old-time-sake’ excuse before Seokjin even suggested it. Noticing the silence being a bit harrowing, Seokjin finally lifts his gaze to Yoongi through the paper.

“It’s just one artwork,” Seokjin’s voice curls.

You widen your eyes at your paper, mouthing, “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to. Because it’s just one artwork. He rakes more money elsewhere, why would he waste time to hang just one artwork, makes perfect sense to me…”

Seokjin and Yoongi swung their head at you at the same time. Noticing the laser eyes on you, you slowly lift your head up.

“I was just saying…” you sandwiched your cheeks between two palms.

Yoongi begins to explain how Seokjin’s mother bought an artwork and wanted it to be hung in Seokjin’s penthouse. Contractor Park is the go-to person for that for many years, since he’s done a great job on all of them. Seokjin’s mother has, since then, promoted Jimin’s, Park Jimin’s handcrafts to all her wealthy art-loving friends; so when Jimin denied Seokjin’s request, it’s easy to see Seokjin’s reaction and how offended he was. ‘Old-times-sake’ is not just a reminder, it is a threat. But it seems that Jimin’s business has grown beyond that level and that he does not, any longer, fear the phrase. A corporation as big as Seokjin’s has the power to overturn small businesses at any time of the day so for Jimin to act rather rashly was not uncommon, it was unexpected. It looks like Seokjin already knew where Jimin could be occupied in, but he is not spilling a word as competing companies never mention each other; it’s office taboo.

All these situations sound dangerous for a mere artwork-hanging-agenda. Are these the things rich people are worried about? Influence? If it were up to you, you would hang it by yourself. But that’s just an emphasis on how different you are from the world Seokjin was born in. You’re a simpleton and his is complex— where even hiring a contractor could be a means of dispute.

“I’ll help you hang them…” you offered yourself.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I will not allow such a thing,” Seokjin scoffed.

“She’ll help, that’s a great idea,” Yoongi seconds you, “More time together.”

You beam at Yoongi and then Seokjin, before your smile immediately dissolves at the sight of sour Seokjin. He blinks back into the stock market analysis report sent by the accountancy department, his mind still lingering on the thought of taking you home with him for the first time. Revealing to you the space he had kept private all these years and trying to predict the situations that could happen.

Seokjin comes up with an arrangement all of a sudden and you were sure that he brought it up because you were pushing your way through his private space on purpose so he does it as a form of revenge of some sort.

"If you're coming to my house to install my painting, then I'll have you bring me to that friends' wedding you tried so hard to hide from me, … deal?"

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To be continued…

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