#dr:bb

I hadn't meant to tell him about everything, but once I had started talking, I hadn't been able to shut up. It didn't help that Zico was a great audience.

When I explained what Seungri had done, and what he had doubtlessly been trying to do, I had heard annoyed gasps and clicked tongues.

When I questioned whether Seunghyun and Jiyong were even friends at this point, he had scoffed and said that he wouldn't blame Seunghyun if they weren't.

When I mentioned that Seungyoon had texted me, and that it felt like he was being too familiar, he had sighed and said that Jinwoo was the one most likely to try to get closer.

“I think he'd do it specifically to bother Mino,” he explained. “What is with group members sabotaging each other? Are you and Kyung like that? Or is it just a YG thing?” “I certainly wouldn't do that to any of my members. I don't know. Maybe it's something from their trainee process.”

I even admitted to the extent of Daesung's and my relationship.

“Daesung?!” He spluttered for a moment, “Kang Daesung?!” “Well, yeah…” “Jesus christ…” he sighed heavily. Then, “Mino doesn't have a fucking chance in hell.” “Why do people say stuff like that?” I questioned. “Kang Daesung is famous for being the perfect boyfriend,” Zico started. “No one hates him. His exes all have nothing bad to say about him, except for the fact that they're no longer together.”

After the jokes died down though…

“You still haven't explained who we're damning tonight in particular.” I sighed, not sure how to explain. “If I had to guess, it's the pretty-boy with a savior complex.” I snorted a laugh, feeling a new appreciation for how Zico knew when to direct the conversation. “More like a god complex,” I muttered. “Control freak.” “What's that American meme? Pokayno…?” “Porque no los dos?” I offered. “Yeah! Why not both, right?” “Yeah, but,” I shook my head, “that's Spanish.” “So? I know that Americans speak Spanish.” “Not all of them. That's like if I said ‘in Korea we speak Japanese’ or something.” There was a beat of silence before Zico spoke up again. His voice was warmer somehow. Softer. He sounded like he was smiling. “You really like it here, don't you?” “I guess so,” I frowned, confused about why he was asking. “Most of the time. Why?” “You said ‘we’ about Korea,” he explained, “and used ‘them’ for America.” “Oh,” I thought it over. Had I really said that? “And that is why you need to remind them to be scared of you.” I was surprised by how hard Zico's voice got. All previous gentleness was gone. “Your worst case scenario is being forced to leave your home, theirs is jail.” The statement hung there for a moment. I let it twist in my mind before whispering. “I'm not sure which one of those is worse.” It was Zico's turn to pause. He was so quiet that I could hear the creak of his chair through the phone. “Tell me everything.” “I already did.” “Not that,” he sighed, “tell me everything.”

So, I had fallen asleep like that. Maybe even mid sentence. I talked and talked and by the time I woke up my phone battery was dead and my throat was sore.

I hauled my aching body out from the tub. I plugged my phone in. I downed four handfuls of water from the bathroom sink. I stretched out on the unused bed. Once my phone was charged enough, I shot off a quick combination apology and thank you text to Zico.

Then, I waited. My phone chimed and beeped, updating me on the missed alerts from throughout the night. There seemed to be more than usual, but I couldn't force myself to look at them yet.

I tried to predict what they'd be. Jiyong, definitely - probably apologizing, maybe scolding? I laughed to myself when the word ‘begging’ came to mind.

Who else…

Daesung and Seunghyun both seemed somewhat probable. Seunghyun - checking in made the top of the list. Daesung - probably something sweet and lightly flirtatious to start, then concerned when I didn't respond.

Mino? Maybe. That seemed like a 50/50 shot. I tried to remember if I had ever responded to him yesterday. I was fairly sure I had. Just a brief “You can always message me” text.

My predictions were cut off by my phone actively ringing.

Sighing, I rolled over and picked it up.

Taeyang Probably

A world where I predicted that did not exist.

“I'm actually impressed by just how much of a mess you've made Jiyong.”

“Fuck off,” I groaned.

“I'm not trying to scold you. I want pointers.”

I rolled my eyes, stretching before trying to get to the point.

“What's going on?” I asked, “why is it you calling me and not one of the others?”

“Seunghyun's with me,” Taeyang blithely answered. “Daesung as well. But somebody has been ignoring her favorites, so when we heard your phone going off we decided that I should be the one to call.”

“I'm not ignoring them,” I protested. “Not on purpose anyway. My phone died.”

“Ah,” his voice got the smallest bit quieter as he most likely turned away from the receiver, “her phone died. Rest assured you two haven't been exiled yet.”

His voice was back to a normal volume the next moment.

“Come out from your cave. Breakfast is ready.”

“Where's… um…”

“Jiyong is moping in his room,” Taeyang answered my half-asked question. “The criminal has been out of the house since yesterday. We assume that the less we know, the better for us.”

=====

“You're sassy this morning,” I said over my teacup at Taeyang.

“You try to deal with three grown men whining like children first thing in the morning.”

“We weren't whining,” Daesung protested.

“Jiyong was definitely whining,” Seunghyun corrected him. “You were complaining.”

“Then what were you doing?” Daesung challenged him.

“Troubleshooting out loud,” Seunghyun muttered, lifting his phone and scrolling aimlessly.

“That's why I've got an attitude this morning,” Taeyang gestured towards the other two with a spatula.

“Ah,” I nodded, “I get it now.”

“Baby,” Seunghyun placed his phone onto the countertop and leaned closer, his shoulder nearly bumping mine. “What happened?”

I glanced towards the hall where the stairs were.

“Mm,” Daesung, taking note of my hesitation over his coffee mug, checked the time, “he was listening to Haru Haru about twenty minutes ago so we still have…”

“At least half an hour before he leaves his room,” Seunghyun finished.

I blinked. Even I knew that song.

“He listens to his own music when he's sulking?”

Taeyang laughed, shrugging.

“He has a playlist,” Seunghyun said. “Point is, we have some time.”

“Fine,” I pushed my teacup across the counter and made a face at Daesung. He rolled his eyes, but took the cup and started the kettle. I leaned back, weighing how much time I had left against how much I wanted to say.

Glancing around, I made sure no one was holding anything before I spoke.

“Jiyong asked me to sleep with him last night.”

Taeyang tilted his head, eyes wandering as he processed the words.

Daesung lifted both hands to rub over his own face.

Seunghyun nodded, letting the hand closest to me fall beneath the counter to find my knee.

“And?” He prompted.

“I freaked out. He said ‘not like that’ but…”

That anxiety from last night pulsed through my body as I remembered the look on Jiyong's face.

“He was angry.”

I felt Seunghyun's hand twitch on my knee, flexing as his grip tightened and immediately loosened again.

“What did he say?” Daesung took over the questioning as he finally got back to refilling my tea.

“Nothing,” I shrugged, “I just left him on the porch and went to my room.”

None of them said anything to that. After a few minutes, Daesung placed my cup down in front of me.

I reached out and grabbed his hand.

“We've been having stressful mornings,” I squeezed his hand, “haven't we?”

“Don't worry about me,” he shook his head.

“You know,” Seunghyun shifted in his seat. Scooting to the edge, he draped a hand around the back of my chair.

“You would have a lot less to worry about if we just got married.”

I rolled my eyes, clicking my tongue against my teeth as I let go of Daesung's hand to lift my teacup.

“Don't start that again.”

Seunghyun started ticking off his fingers.

“Citizenship, apartment, work…”

“How does getting married to you get me a job?” I interrupted him.

“You won't need to work,” he shrugged.

I groaned, shaking my head.

“One day you're going to joke like that with someone who takes you too seriously and end up in a marriage you never wanted,” Taeyang said.

Seunghyun huffed, half a laugh, and wrapped his arm around the back of my chair before replying.

“Why do you all think I'm joking?”

=====

Jiyong didn't join us for nearly another hour. While I certainly had no complaints about that, it had been a little boring to wait around for the show to arrive.

Taeyang had excused himself for the day, and Daesung was busy with some laundry. Thus, when Jiyong finally joined the household, he found Seunghyun and I in the living room.

My knees were hooked over the armrest of the sofa, and my head was supported by Seunghyun's thigh. Every so often we showed each other our phones, getting opinions on apartments.

“That's too expensive,” I frowned at Seunghyun's phone. “It is nice though.”

“It's not that expensive,” he protested, “not for three bedrooms.”

“What would I even need that for?” I asked, handing the phone back to him.

“Art studio,” he explained simply.

“I can do art anywhere,” I pointed out. “And the third? It’s not like I need a guest room.”

I could see a joke coming from the way he refused to meet my eye. Something out of line in the way he smiled before speaking.

“The third one is for the baby.”

I pretended to vomit, covering my mouth with one hand and pushing Seunghyun's head away with the other. He laughed loudly, reaction successfully obtained.

It was in the middle of my protest that Jiyong joined us. Just in time to hear me say “Don't you lay that curse on me, Choi Seunghyun!”

“What's he cursing you with?”

Once again, I somehow felt like I had been caught doing something wrong. I scrambled to sit upright.

“I was just pointing out,” Seunghyun spoke placidly, indiscreetly pulling me closer to his side as soon as I was upright, “that she should look at larger apartments.”

“You were speaking true evil into the world,” I grumbled, scooching away from him.

“I was being practical,” he reproached me, once again leaning over to pull me closer by my waist. “If you ever decide to have children, you wouldn't have to move.”

Jiyong watched us, face frozen in an impeccably pleasant mask as he sat in one of the smaller loveseats.

“I very much doubt I'll ever want kids,” I said, poking my finger into Seunghyun's thigh in hopes of making him loosen his grip.

“Accidents happen,” Jiyong pointed out.

I shook my head, still struggling with Seunghyun's antics.

“Thanks to modern medical implants, I don't have to worry about that for at least two more years.”

“Ah!” Seunghyun groaned as I finally managed to jab one of his pressure points. His hold on me relented as he rubbed his leg. “What a secure life you lead.”

I just shrugged, “no point in taking risks.”

“But it can still fail sometimes,” Jiyong pointed out, “what then?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my palms into my eyes until I saw yellow and violet bursts.

“I'd rather not think about it.”

“Yo-”

“The third room is for Ttungbo,” Seunghyun cut off Jiyong. “Or storage.”

I blinked a few times, readjusting my vision. I saw Jiyong, lips pursed, nodding slightly. Glancing to my side, I noted the intense way that Seunghyun was staring down his group leader.

I resisted the urge to think about it. Besides, we had show to make.

“Speaking of Ttungbo…”

Jiyong’s eyes snapped to meet mine, face switching from that deep thoughts look to an agreeable smile.

“I don’t know if you have anything planned for today, but if we have time…?”

“Of course my love,” his smile widened.

It wasn’t a sound or physical sensation, but I could feel Seunghyun’s disdain at the words.

“Call the kennel,” Jiyong stood from his seat, body language clearly showing he would be ready to leave soon. “We’ll stop for tea on the way.”

=====

“I wanted to apologize for last night.”

Jiyong was leaning slightly away from me as he spoke, checking his side-view mirror as he backed out of the driveway.

“Oh, um… wel-”

“I’m not expecting you to say anything or accept it,” he clarified. Twisting in his seat, he placed one hand on my headrest as he double checked the road behind us.

“It was presumptuous.”

I nodded. He was right, and exhibiting a surprising amount of self-reflection. Maybe there was something to his playlist process.

“It was,” I agreed aloud.

His hand fell from my headrest, swinging down in an aborted arc that stopped short of my thigh. It floated awkwardly for a second before he placed it firmly on the gearshift instead.

“Did you want to go straight there? Or would you mind if I stopped for coffee first?”

=====

Ttungbo was somewhat wary of Jiyong when we arrived, but quickly put that aside as he attempted to climb into my, still standing, lap. Once I as fully seated, I was immediately flattened by the whining boxer.

“I know Ttungbo,” I babbled at him, “I know. I’ve been away for so long, right? And now Soo-ah isn’t here. I know. I’m such a bad mom to you, abandoning you in this hotel. Oh my sweet boy has been suffering, hasn’t he?”

Jiyong leaned against the wall opposite from Ttungbo and I, watching me with an expression that reminded me of when he had helped me get ready for that one particularly bad night with Seungri.

Somewhat fueled by a petty sense of poorly placed blame, I ignored him.

Eventually, Ttungbo got tired of trying to pin me in place and started going back and forth to show me the toys in the visitation room. I, of course, praised each one accordingly, enjoying the way that the pace of his wagging tail would speed up each time.

“A crinkly corn man? Very nice.”

“Oooh… that’s a deep squeaker. Very good for a walrus.”

“This is your favorite, isn’t it? You’re so sweet with Mr. Moose.”

=====

When we left, Jiyong stalled once we were inside his car.

“It’s not really my place to suggest but…” he sighed heavily, nervously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“What is it?” I asked.

He licked his lips, biting them slightly as he chose his words.

“You got sick so quickly,” he started.

“I’m not really sick,” I said. “It’s just stress.”

“Right,” he nodded, agreeing but still pressing onwards, “right, it’s probably just that. But… I worry, you know? So I called my doctor, and he…”

“A doctor?” I asked, skepticism wrinkling my brow. “It was just a panic attack, and then, you know, a recovery time.”

Even I knew that wasn’t exactly true. I tuned out Jiyong slightly, trying to remember the last few days and what had been going on with me health-wise.

“... -uld clear some time…”

The panic attack had been first, right? That confessional style interview. Then… headaches. Headaches and tiredness and mood swings…

“... -n’t schedule any…”

Had I been having stomach issues as well? I couldn’t even remember. Add brain fog to the list I suppose.

“... but it’s up to you, obviously.”

I heaved a long sigh, using the length of it to piece together whatever Jiyong had been saying. Something about going to see a doctor, I was fairly certain.

“Okay,” I nodded, turning to look at him. “Might as well double check that I’m fine, right?”

His expression of concern turned to one of relief.

“Yeah,” he started the car, “yes. We’ll head there now.”

=====

Blood draw, urine test, a light shining in my eyes and down my throat. Reflexes tested, stomach palpated, and questions galore. I felt bad that somehow, without even a proper appointment, I was taking up so much of this doctor’s time.

It was clearly a private practice. Without a doubt, the doctor’s availability was a perk of fame and money. Though I hadn’t seen much of the building, I was sure that the examination room was in fact just a spare room in the doctor’s house.

“You don’t appear to have any sort of immediate health concerns. As you suggested, the stress of so many big changes happening at once is likely the culprit. Stress can suppress the body’s immune system after all. So for now…”

The doctor handed over a small collection of bottles. Too many for me to hold securely, so I started putting them into my pockets.

“These are just some vitamins and supplements. We’ll have a clearer idea of if there is anything more concerning once your labs come back, so for now we’ll just try to pump up your body’s natural defenses.”

“And how long will it be before we get the lab results?” Jiyong asked, offering a hand to accept some of the bottles from the doctor.

He had offered to wait outside, but my confidence with medical Korean was shaky enough that I had asked him to stay. It had turned out to be unnecessary, since the doctor was both semi-fluent in English and had a knack for simplifying his message without losing information.

Still, it had been nice to have him there to offer his own observations of my semi-declining health over the last little while.

“My lab assistant is doing some volunteer work today, but I’m sure we can get most, if not all, of them done tomorrow. You’ll hear from me in no time.”

=====

I felt more energized by the time we left the doctor. Maybe it was the endorphins from seeing Ttungbo, maybe it was the mix of Ringer's solution and B vitamins that the doctor had given me. Maybe there was something to the bitter tea that Jiyong had brought in a thermos for me. Whatever it was, I felt good as I reclined the passenger seat of Jiyong's car and let myself bask in the sunlight streaming through the windshield.

Jiyong had said he needed to swing by the company on the way back, and I had no protest for that. He was being normal, if a little overly attentive, and the sun was out.

I was in a nice thrumming headspace when my phone chimed. Peeking a single eye open, I lifted the phone to see what it was.

From: Zico This is a text to check in on you. How's that asshole acting today?

I failed to hold back a laugh. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jiyong glance at me before returning his attention back to the road.

“What's that?” He sounded nonchalant, but I doubted that was genuine.

“Are you going to get jealous?” I turned just slightly while I typed a reply. Just enough to keep Jiyong more firmly in my sight.

To: Zico Jiyong is being nice. Seems to be keeping a polite distance.

The topic of the text message glanced at me again. He bit his lip for a second before sighing.

I hit send before turning my full attention to him.

“Is it Song Minho?”

His neck was slightly red under his collar.

“Not this time,” I answered.

My phone chimed. I lifted it once again.

From: Zico So you reminded him to be scared of you?

“One of the members?” Jiyong guessed.

“No.”

To: Zico No. He seems to have learned shame on his own.

“Jagiya…”

I decided to cut him some slack.

“It's Zico. Just checking in on me.”

A small grumbly noise pushed its way out of his throat before he spoke again.

“What…” he paused, shaking his head as my phone sounded a third time.

“Why,” he started over, “are there so many people concerned over you?”

From: Zico Maybe I'm biased, but I don't trust it. He has a reputation for being manipulative.

“Am I not worth being concerned over?” I teased him.

“Of course you are, my love.” He cleared his throat as I typed another message.

To: Zico I am choosing to enjoy it. I can worry later.

“There's just so much competition.”

I tilted my head, looking more closely at Jiyong. He was pouting a little bit. It was cute, the childish nature of the expression.

I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm.

“Trust me,” I squeezed his arm, “Zico has specifically assured me that he is not interested in me for anything more than friendship.”

“Jagi…”

I knew that tone. It was gently reproachful. Paternal.

I decided to head off what I knew was coming next.

“Don't tell me I'm being naive.”

“I j-”

“And don't say that you worry about me,” I interrupted him. “We've talked about this - I'm an entire adult.”

He made a small annoyed noise as he shut his mouth.

I reclined the passenger seat slightly, stretching out a little while I watched Jiyong drive. That pout lingered around his lips, but he had the sense not to push the topic.

From: Zico You would know better than me I suppose. He's always rubbed me the wrong way, so I've never really tried to get close.

What a wonderful thing it is when men can admit that they might be wrong.

=====

“Just sit,” Jiyong insisted, ushering me away from the kitchen. “I'll take care of dinner, just relax.”

“But it's boring in here,” I complained, letting him direct me to the sofa. “Where is everyone?”

“I sent them out,” he admitted. “I wanted to spend time with you but not make it a whole production.”

Taking a seat, I pouted at him. I tried to make it obvious that I wasn't actually upset though. Hesitancy and concerns aside, it was obvious that Jiyong was really trying to go above and beyond and consciously considering my health and energy levels.

“Here,” he handed me the remote to the television. “I'll be right back.”

I sighed, shucking off my slippers and tugging the blanket that lived on the seat around my legs so I could fully bundle down on the sofa. Turning on the television, I didn't bother looking for a specific channel. It was only going to be background noise anyway.

True to millennial form, I pulled my phone out.

From: D-lite Hyung told us all to get out of the house tonight From: D-lite I said I would but I'm actually just working on some stuff in my room From: D-lite I'm not saying this as a warning BTW From: D-lite But if you want to hang out with someone you actually like…

I snorted a laugh.

To: D-lite I appreciate the anxiety warning 💚 From: D-lite A green heart?! From: D-lite I thought I deserved at least a 💜 or maybe 🩷 To: D-lite Green is my favorite color though From: D-lite It's perfect 💚💚💚 I love it 💚💚💚

After a few seconds, he messaged again.

From: D-lite Can I come visit? I know I said I was working but I keep thinking about you From: D-lite Or you can come visit me? To: D-lite I'm pretty sure Jiyong has a whole dinner planned From: D-lite ☹️ To: D-lite Doesn't your room have cameras and microphones anyway? From: D-lite Why would that be a problem? 🤔 From: D-lite Just wha~at are you thinking of? To: D-lite Shut up From: D-lite I just wanted to hang o~ut 😇 From: D-lite But my pet is being so dirty~~~ To: D-lite Nevermind I should be pretending to be interesting for the show From: D-lite “Pretend” she says From: D-lite Like she's not one of the main sources of gossip and speculation online right now To: D-lite Don't remind me 😖 I’ve been very intentionally avoiding all of that ever since I turned off my sns notifications From: D-lite Makes sense From: D-lite Congratulations on crossing 10 million on Instagram by the way

I resisted the urge to check. It was almost painfully difficult, but I did manage to resist.

To: D-lite Stop it! To: D-lite I'm going to vomit To: D-lite You're lying From: D-lite I would never lie to my pet

The message was accompanied by a screenshot of my own Instagram profile.

He was not lying.

I clicked my screen to blackness, staring at my too close reflection on the somewhat scuffed surface for a moment.

I noted the evidence of age that showed in a slight line across my forehead. My roots were beginning to show. I looked exhausted.

Dropping my phone, I pushed my palms against my cheekbones, fingers slipping under my glasses to cover my eyes as I groaned. Realistically, I couldn't just ignore everything, but by god was that the tempting option.

For a moment, I wondered where Chul was. Maybe I had become too dependent on him, but he was unusually good for advice.

“You okay?”

I jumped nearly out of my own skin. My own groaning had effectively drowned out any sound of Jiyong's approach.

I looked up at him, clocking the teacup in his hands immediately.

“Just stress.”

Somewhere in the rear of my mind, I remembered Chul mentioning he had been called for some meeting.

“Good timing then,” Jiyong held up the teacup to highlight it before placing it on the coffee table. “Let me know if it's too bitter.”

“More herbal medicine?” I scooted forward, taking the cup in my hands and allowing it to warm my hands.

“You know me so well,” Jiyong smiled. He reached out, gently brushing my hair out of my face s he spoke again. “Drink up, my love.”

I shot him a side-eye as I took a sip of the murky liquid.

My face contorted, chin retreating towards my neck as my lips twisted and eyes scrunched shut.

“I did say it would be bitter.”

I gave a strained noise, took a breath, and downed the entire cup as fast as I could.

Jiyong sat next to me, rubbing my back softly as I coughed through the awful aftertaste.

“Good girl. It's rough, I know,” he murmured, “you're doing so well though.”

“That isn't bitter,” I coughed again. “That tastes like industrial strength paint-stripper.”

“I'll get better at it,” Jiyong kept up his soothing hand motions on my back. “You did so good for me though. Here,” he stood up, taking the cup with him, “I'll get you something to get the taste out of your mouth.”

He briskly walked back to the kitchen, pausing for a moment to swirl some water through the cup and place it in the dishwasher.

I let myself tilt over, laying my head on the armrest of the sofa to watch Jiyong shuffle around the kitchen. He poked through the cabinets, tutting slightly as he shut the doors and moved on. Briefly, he placed his hands on his hips, surveying the countertops with pursed lips. Then, seemingly struck with inspiration, he determinedly opened the fridge and pulled out two oranges. He gathered up a plate and some small tool from a drawer before coming back into the living room.

“Here we go,” he set the plate down and took a seat next to me. Slipping the little gadget over one of his fingers, he set to work.

A hundred videos of couples arguing filled my mind.

“You're peeling me an orange?”

Jiyong looked up from his work, eyebrows arched upwards at the center of his brow. The effect was not quite unlike a scolded pet.

“Do you not like oranges?”

I blinked, just taking in this new facet of him before shaking my head.

“No, I like oranges.”

He stayed still for a moment, pouting slightly as he glanced from me to the orange in his hands a few times.

“I can get something different if yo-”

“I like oranges,” I said it more firmly, nudging his leg with my knee. “Peel one for me.”

He seemed to accept it then, returning to the task at hand.

=====

The acerbic nature of the tea was erased from my short-term memory by the time our dinner plates escorted us out to the deck. I made an offhand remark that I was going to gain weight if Jiyong insisted on taking me to restaurants and cooking for me like this.

“You've been sick,” he replied, pointedly placing more beef on my plate. “It's better to get nutrients from food than supplements anyway.”

“You make me sound like one of those gym obsessed forum guys,” I complained, pouting at him across the small glass table. The small glass of wine had hit me a little harder than I had expected. Or perhaps I was just enjoying being taken care of again. Either way, my skin felt a little electric, and I was flirting a bit harder than I may have done otherwise.

“No,” Jiyong smirked, eyes honed in on my mouth as I lifted my fork for another bite. “If you were one of those gym obsessed forum guys, you would know the importance of nutrition and rest for recovery and avoiding burnout.”

“You sound like you're about to confine me to my bed,” I couldn't stop myself, neither in the somewhat suggestive words nor the dip of my tongue to catch the stray remnants of flavor from the food on my lips.

God, was this how easy I was?

“If that's what it takes to get you to relax,” Jiyong's throat bobbed as he swallowed between his clauses. “Maybe I should do that.”

A home cooked meal, a hand peeled orange, a doctor's appointment that I didn't have to schedule?

“I don't think you have it in you,” I baited him.

Was that really all it took for me to be planting the ideas like this into the mind of Jiyong? Of all people?

“What makes you say that?”

Jiyong leaned forward in his seat, crossing one leg over the other and supporting his chin on his hand. The pose highlighted something about the angles of his body, and another reason for my behavior occurred to me.

He really was quite pretty.

“You don't come across as the direct action type.”

His smile was slow and cat-like. It occurred to the artist in my brain that he was apparently made entirely out of acute triangles.

“You would usually be right,” he leaned back, tilting his head to a curious angle, “but some things require a hands-on approach.”

Something had shifted. A string somewhere pulling tighter with each flirtatiously innocuous comment.

It was a feeling that I was well acquainted with. Typically, it was my cue to make a joke and redirect the conversation. Typically this was the point where I'd back off, loosen that winding cord.

Overly meticulous in the movement, I placed my fork down on my plate before scooting my chair an extra inch or so from the table. I downed the remaining liquid from the slightly over-sweetened tea that Jiyong had prepared for me before speaking.

“Just how ‘hands-on’ are you planning to get?”

That invisible cord stretched further, nearing an unknown limit.

I was just far away enough from him that I didn't really know that he held his breath, but it certainly seemed like he did. He was absolutely still for a moment before his head twitched.

“Would you like a demonstration?”

He gripped the armrests of his chair, knuckles going white. However, that was the full extent of his movement before he stilled again, waiting for an answer.

I decided to stress test that string.

“Go ahead.”

That did it. A piano wire pulled too taut, struck too many times, snapped.

=====

There wasn't much talk for a while. Nothing truly interesting anyway. Jiyong spouted a few sentences that were clearly designed to make good edits and draw nicely editable replies from me as he took my hand.

He drew me up out of my chair, primly directing me around the rest of the outdoor furniture and back into the house. He smoothly transitioned from holding my hand to laying a hand at my waist as he tugged open the sliding glass door, switching hands again as he closed it after us again.

My body was only out of contact with his hands for perhaps a second at a time as he led me through the house and towards my room. Still, each time his touch returned after those brief absences, a minor electric storm rushed through my skin.

Finally, we reached my bedroom door.

Jiyong opened it, then stood back to usher me forward. His hands fell from my body as I crossed the threshold.

I turned to look at him.

He stood, in that obviously practiced nonchalant way, leaning with one shoulder hooked on the doorframe.

“Is this where I leave you?”

I meant to say yes. It was the obvious thing to say. Clearly.

But all those angles caught my eye again.

literally so cute

But then I was pulled against a bare chest, and a hand started tracing up my side. His fingers skimmed along my skin, leaving the faintest touches behind like ripples.

I hummed, enjoying the attention washing over me.

The hand paused.

I made a whining noise in my throat.

The hand landed firmly on my hip, a throaty chuckle sounding behind me as lips met the skin on the back of my shoulder.

"You're awake."

It wasn't exactly a question, so I didn't exactly answer it.

Instead I turned, maneuvering so I could swing one leg over Seunghyun's hip. I ran my hand through his hair, stopping to grip the hair at the back. I directed his mouth to my own.

He laughed, letting a few kisses lane before turning onto his back.

I tried to follow him, such as it was, but he held me off.

"Hyun…" I whined, nuzzling against his shoulder.

"Baby, I have to leave before everyone gets up."

=====

Seunghyun slipped back out of the glass doors, trying to avoid the cameras in the hall. Somewhere, deep in my stomach, a stone dropped into the previously calm water. A feeling like shame rippled outwards, threatening to spill out.

I'm being kept secret.

I resisted the thought, deciding to get up and see what today's plan was.

As soon as I stood, I was taken over by dizziness. I immediately sat back down. Glancing around, I spotted the wine glasses that had been left on the vanity. I took a minute to steel myself before slowly making my way to the vanity. Lifting both glasses, I felt myself sway slightly.

It took another rest at the vanity, a second sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, four wine glass-fulls of water, and a round of catching up on texts before I could rouse the ability to get dressed.

From: Hugeboy I was thinking about you~ From: Hugeboy I keep thinking about you (♡◇♡) From: Hugeboy It makes me want to text you |ω･) From: Hugeboy You're always so busy (´Д` ) From: Hugeboy I'll see something and want to send you a picture but I feel like I'm bothering you orz

There were a few messages from Soo-ah as well. They were mostly a series of links to apartment listings, but she also included a photo of herself visiting Ttungbo in the kennel.

I spotted an expensive pair of sneakers sticking out from the bottoms of some baggy jeans behind her. There was no doubt in my mind that they belonged to Bobby.

=====

"Glasses day?"

I groaned, hoping the tone was enough to answer Daesung's question. Shuffling to the breakfast bar, I posted up on one of the stools and bent forward to lay on the counter.

"Ay, bendita…" a hand gently patted my hair, "drink too much last night?"

I turned my head so I could blink up at Daesung.

"What?"

He gave me a smile before turning towards the fridge. Opening the door, he bent at the waist as he spoke up again.

"Taeyang mentioned that he thought you and Jiyong went for drinks or something. Said," he stood up and turned towards me, a small hangover drink in hand, "you were acting weird. Here."

He cracked the seal, opening the bottle before placing it on the counter next to me. Task done, he turned and started opening cabinets.

I struggled to decide which end of the conversation to tackle first. A phrase about eating frogs floated through my mind.

Pushing myself to sit up, I pulled the drink closer.

"What else did Taeyang say?"

I chugged the bottle, hoping it would somehow soften whatever was said next.

He hummed, pulling a pan out and clicking the range on.

"That you seemed glad to be interrupted."

How diplomatic. I set the now empty bottle aside, leaning forward onto my elbows.

"He's not wrong."

I picked at my nails, not really wanting to go much further. Still, I knew it was somewhat unavoidable. The proximity of everyone, the nature of people… it would probably be better to just have a conversation than to let things get all clouded and smoky with assumptions and half…

Smoky.

My nose twitched.

Looking up, I saw Daesung standing in front of the stove top. He was staring at the pan in front of him, but obviously not seeing it.

"Dae," I called him quietly.

No response.

"Daesung." I was more firm this time, "the butter."

He shook his head, coming back to himself.

"Shit," he grabbed the pan and lifted it off of the range. He set it aside, onto an unlit section, before turning to face me.

I shook my head, "turn that off."

"Right," he turned back and fumbled with the knob until the flame disappeared. Kitchen no longer in danger of burning down, he set his sights back on me.

Thus commenced the staring match. I was willing to let it stretch as long as possible, but I could see him getting twitchy after a few seconds.

Sighing, I leaned back on the barstool.

"Just ask, Dae."

"What happened with Seungri?"

I stared at him. Did he really not know? And what was the point in knowing?

After a moment, I shook my head.

"Ask something else."

Daesung had the decency to look ashamed. He nodded to himself for a moment before taking a breath to speak.

"Did Jiyong…" he paused, apparently struggling to come up with the right words.

"It's not the same," I interrupted him, "it's more… just… confusing."

"Confusing," he echoed me.

"If I could explain it, I would."

Shaking his head, he turned back towards the stove.

"You don't have to explain," he pulled paper towels from the cupboard and started cleaning the burned butter from the pan. "As long as he didn't… hurt you."

I tried to decipher the vibes of the kitchen. He didn't sound too upset. That was part of it but he was being cautious too - understandable, given the topic.

I didn't exactly want to contribute to what I was interpreting as him being concerned, but I also didn't want to keep everything to myself.

"Not physically anyway," I said it quietly, giving him the option of pretending he hadn't heard, "and not on purpose, I think."

Daesung sighed, shoulders slumping. He kept his attention on the food he was preparing this time when he spoke.

"That doesn't exactly inspire confidence, pet."

I shrugged, laying down to once again press my cheek onto the cool stone of the counter.

"This is just how I have to live for now."

I let my eyes close, warding against the building ache in my head and slight nausea that was creeping its way through my gut.

Daesung let me indulge in the self-soothing that was laying on the counter in silence. I listened to him move around the kitchen, soaking up the sounds and smells of his breakfast. Sizzling, crackling, tapping, scraping… I didn't have the neurological predisposition towards ASMR, but this must have been pretty close.

A distinctly ceramic dragging sound and slight thunk sounded like it was directly next to my head.

"Eat."

I peeked a single eye open. My sight was greeted by a plate of toast. Not just any toast though. Daesung had cut the center out of the bread and fried it with an egg. I closed my eye again, smiling.

"You're wonderful," I mumbled as I forced myself to sit up. "A delight, even."

=====

"Do you mind if I just…" I indicated the mouse in the staffer's hand.

She nodded, rolling her seat back a little to make room.

"You're familiar with it?" She asked.

"I'm more familiar with CAD," I mumbled, focusing more on the screen in front of me, "but SketchUp is fine."

"I thought you were an accountant."

I swapped the sofa and loveseat for a sectional and a shelf, creating a half wall to clearly define the spaces for eating and lounging.

"After I switched majors, yeah."

She fell silent, her assigned purpose for the day made obsolete.

The idea for this experiment was to test compatibility through interior design. I thought that's what it was anyway. We were each paired with someone who understood the software, given a blank rendering of an apartment, and told to fill the digital space to our liking.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if there was another date on the line. They hadn't really thrown something like that in since the musical with Seunghyun. Had it not scored well with test audiences?

"Ugh," I couldn't stop the sound from exiting my mouth.

"Something wrong?"

I looked at the staffer, brain drawing a blank on how to explain the noise away.

"Oh," I was not off to a great start. "I just… um…"

"The color? Here," she rolled closer and took the mouse back. She shot me a brief smile as she moved. Conspiratorial, almost. Knowing.

I gave her a smile that was half grimace. Why was she covering for me? Was it a skill that all entertainment staff had? Or was it that often mysticalized feminine bond?

"Do you often work like this?"

She glanced up at me, quickly settling her eyes back on the computer screen.

"Not really," she tilted her head, making a few adjustments to the furniture on screen. "This is my first time, actually. What do you think?"

She indicated the screen.

I was blasted with dusty pink shades to go with the green options I had chosen. I made an effort to reign in my facial expression.

"Maybe a cream color instead?"

She nodded, and turned back to make the change.

"So what sort of work do you usually do?" I asked.

It was nice, talking to a normal person for a moment. I didn't have to fake my curiosity, or cover up what I already knew.

A bit of musical theater popped into my head.

Getting to know you. Getting to know all about you.

"-artments for rich types."

Shit. I had totally spaced out on her answer.

"What about you?" She asked.

"Oh," I shrugged, "I mean… I was doing the teacher thing for a while."

She let a small laugh out through her nose. I couldn't tell if it was in derision or just because of how common of a story it was.

"Stereotypical, right?" I joked.

Another nose laugh.

"But I finished studying and taking the KICPA test while I was doing that. So now…" I shrugged, "I'm not really sure."

"That's pretty specific," she replied, "how can you be unsure? Like this?"

I looked at the screen again. This time I was met with a much more calming, to me anyway, color pallette. Deep greens, warm creams… something out of a young adult novel about elves.

"I like it."

"Picasso."

We both broke down in giggles at that.

=====

Apparently, Seunghyun and I shared a "sense of movement." At least, that's what the expert said.

The six of us sat in an office, being shown each others' designs, while a not-quite-yet-elderly man explained the ways I was similar - or dissimilar - to each of the boys.

Daesung and I both had designed spaces that looked a bit like hobbit holes. Both of us shared an affinity for books and something like organized clutter. Where I had plants, he had an aquarium, both being examples of bringing nature inside.

Seunghyun and I shared ideas about how to move through the space. We had all been given the same floor plan, so I had thought we would each design something fairly similar in that way. But apparently Seunghyun and I were the only ones who had lent much thought to what it would be like to physically inhabit the space.

Taeyang shared my affinity for plants, but that was just about the sum total of our matching. Where I had placed a bookshelf intended for board games, he had put an upright piano. I supposed that made sense.

Jiyong was clearly a minimalist, but we apparently both intended to host others in that imaginary apartment. His design was probably best described as being sterile, but accommodating. Extra seating in the dining area, that sort of thing.

Seungri's design… well…

If you had asked me to design a space intended to be secretly unwelcoming, I might have done something like his. He had a sideboard positioned in such a way that I could easily imagine guests bumping their hip on it as they passed. The entire thing was, in a word, haphazard. It may have just been because he didn't take the task seriously, but it unnerved me.

Where the expert saw a lack of design smarts, I saw an apartment that was built to keep guests off balance.

Maybe that was a less than generous way of thinking about it, but I didn't think so. Regardless, possibly for the sake of the cameras, the other boys teased him about his perceived shortcoming.

I declined to join in the "fun" with them. Maybe a month ago I would have teased him as well but, knowing what I knew now, I couldn't force myself to make light of it.

Instead, I just nodded, acting like the designer was offering some enlightening explanation. A treatise on the connection between personality and decorating.

"So, in conclusion," the man clasped his hands together for just a moment, "I'd say that you three…"

He gestured at Seunghyun, Jiyong, and Daesung in turn.

"... are the best matches for Miss Luna here. Just," he shrugged, "in different ways."

"We already knew that," Taeyang laughed.

"Did we?" Seungri asked.

I wanted to hit him. Good lord how I wanted to hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and h…

"You don't agree?" The expert asked.

"I think opposites can attract each other," Seungri shrugged. He turned to me. He addressed me, directly, for the first time in… how long? Two weeks? Three?

"We got along pretty well at the beginning, right?"

Silence filled the room as I pointedly ignored him. I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel the others getting more and more tense. I saw the expert's eyes flicking about the room, landing on each of us briefly before moving to the next.

I chose to trust the editors to take care of it.

"That can be true," Jiyong finally broke the silence, "but some people can be too different."

"I don't think we're that different."

There was a smile in his voice - a smile that I refused to look to confirm. I didn't know what fucking game he was playing, but I refused to play it with him.

"Isn't that a contradiction?" Taeyang asked. "Saying opposites attract, and then saying you two are similar? What's this guy saying?"

Taeyang laughed. I couldn't be sure, but I thought it was a practiced sound - disingenuous, but not obviously so.

"The whole point of the exercise was to find compatibility," the expert reminded us. "If you're unhappy with the results, you should reflect on why it came out that way."

=====

An envelope was waved, a staffer announcing that there was another date on the line. Someone suggested I choose my favorite apartment design. Someone else said that would be too much like a spoiler for my final choice.

More suggestions, more rebuttals.

I backed out of the decision-making process, citing the aforementioned spoiler concern. Instead, I sort of… disconnected. Standing to the side, I was aware of the people around me. On autopilot, I rocked on my heels, waiting for a decision to be made.

In true Kpop reality television style, it came down to rock-paper-scissors.

Taeyang excused himself from the trial, saying it should only be the top three - as decided by the design expert. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I made a note to thank him for that. Not so much for removing himself, but for creating a situation where Seungri didn't really have the option to participate.

It took six rounds, but eventually, Jiyong approached me. He grinned, offering me his hand.

"It's fate," he winked as he said it.

I blinked, coming back to myself. I felt a bit like I was waking up - groggy.

"Is that it?"

The question came out quieter than I intended. My gut twisted briefly, a bit of self-loathing triggered by the demure sound of my own voice. Oh well. It would probably play well with some part of the audience.

He tilted his head, smile not faltering thanks to years of idol training. I could see it in his shoulders, though, his chest angling silently to put more of himself between me and the others.

"Of course, my love.”

=====

“I have to admit,” Jiyong said while waiting for his manicure to set, “I convinced production to switch what they had planned for the date.”

He had suggested that we go to a salon he knew to have a combination of getting ready and getting pampered.

“What had they planned?”

“The premier showing of that movie,” he paused, checking his nails. “I don't remember the name. The post-rebellion mega-corporation one.”

I nodded, ignoring the minor heat-spike of my own nails curing under a lamp.

“The one that people said looks like Black Knight, right?”

Jiyong hummed, “with Woobin? Yeah.”

I nodded, humming a small acknowledgment as I watched the nail technician apply starry stencils to my nails.

“Did you choose a color?” The technician asked.

“A deep pink would look good,” Jiyong suggested.

The technician stood, hand already reaching for the pink and red section of the display.

“I want green,” I called out.

The technician paused, glancing between Jiyong and me.

“Like an apple,” I insisted.

She still seemed unsure.

I grit my teeth to stop myself from saying something mean.

“That would be cute too,” Jiyong nodded.

Finally, the technician moved. She passed the reds, purples, and blues, coming to a stop where the greens and yellows were kept. Quickly selecting two bottles, she returned to her seat across from me.

“It's good that you two share tastes,” she commented. “Which one do you prefer?”

I blinked in the direction of the bottles, not fully absorbing the difference between the shades as I fought back a swirl of rage. I couldn't even pinpoint exactly which part of the interaction had annoyed me. The way Jiyong had spoken up - expecting his opinion to matter? The way the technician had clearly waited for him to approve of my choice? Sure, he had insisted he was paying, but these were still my nails. My nails, on my fingers. My body.

I realized I had been staring at the bottles for too long.

“The lighter one,” I decided just to be done with it.

“And for the accent nail?”

I actually did put a little bit of thought into that. I lifted a hand, looking over the stencils.

“You know those blush nails? Or aura?”

The technician nodded.

“That,” I laid my hand back onto the cushioned rest in front of me, “with the same green.”

=====

“How are you feeling?”

The manicures were done. I was sat in the passenger seat of a car that had previously thrilled me. But right now, it just annoyed me. It was ostentatious. It was meant to impress, and I had fallen for it.

“Fine,” my voice sounded empty, despite the overly practiced upward lilt.

“Good,” Jiyong busied himself with pulling out of the parking space, “I thought you might be tired.”

Here it is.

I was sure we had finally reached the point where he'd interrogate me about being with Seunghyun last night. The revelation of whatever they had discussed.

“I planned something a little quieter tonight,” he explained, “just in case.”

=====

I tried to ignore the semi-quiet of the restaurant. Jiyong must have done some form of reflecting on our past conversations because he at least didn't reserve the entire place. Still, it was clear that he wanted us to be alone. Thus, we had an entire room to ourselves.

I could tell from the layout that it was at least two sections. Perhaps three, depending on if the fireplace warranted its own division.

In light of everything I had come to know about Jiyong, I knew that this was probably the best compromise he could come up with. I, having repeatedly asked for normalcy, had the comfort of knowing there were other patrons elsewhere. He, wanting complete privacy, at least had the comfort of being out of view of the others.

“I feel like I should only whisper,” I whispered, “it feels like a library or something.”

Maybe I was playing up the naivete, but I knew the conversation was coming eventually. It was now my main mission to make it through the meal and back to the house while avoiding it.

Jiyong smiled. For a second, I saw the way he had looked at me while helping me get ready for the theater. The smile was all soft edges.

“Should we play a game?” He whispered back.

A thousand texts messages, cocky voices, and snapchats floated into one cohesive phrase in my mind.

If this motherfucker said twenty questions I would simply leave.

“What sort of game?”

His smile shifted somehow, going from soft to mischievous. I prepared myself to relive the cliche.

“Whoever stops whispering first loses.”

I glanced towards the decorative folding screen. behind it was the arched doorway that led to the bar and main entrance. The game was just stupid enough to appeal to me.

“What about when the waiter comes?” I asked, careful to keep whispering.

Jiyong pursed his lips, thinking over what sort of rules there should be. After a few seconds, he nodded.

“Okay,” he spoke even softer than before. “We must whisper when we're alone, but with others, we can speak normally.”

I nodded in agreement, “okay. Penalty for losing?”

Jiyong shrugged, “just a favor for the winner.”

I squinted at him. He looked only mischievous, not malignant. A puckish man that might play a joke but wouldn't full-on attack me.

I nodded.

“Okay,” I whispered.

=====

It was clear neither of us was planning on losing.

The meal passed quietly. The post meal drinks were near silent. The meandering walk around side streets was as hushed as a church.

“Are churches quiet?” I asked. Even my whisper sounded loud after an extended moment of silence.

“What?”

“I was just thinking that this is as quiet as being in church,” I shrugged, “but I don't go to church. So I don't know if that's true or not.”

He hummed, thinking it over before answering.

“It depends on the church,” Jiyong explained, “and what part of the service it is.”

That made enough sense. There were about four thousand different flavors of church. Some were bound to be silent.

I let maybe two more minutes of quiet pass before whispering again.

“I don't think either of us is going to give up on this bet.”

Jiyong stopped walking. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he was nodding slowly. He pursed his lips as he watched me stop and turn to face him.

“I think you're right,” he softly agreed.

“Should we call it a draw?”

Tilting his head, that mischievous grin spread across his face once more.

I squinted at him, waiting for his answer.

Staring at each other, I couldn't help but think of the silly editing that would no doubt happen for this moment. The thought made it difficult to resist glancing at the staff member holding a camera.

“No,” Jiyong whispered.

A split second later, he darted towards me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted. Spinning once, he set me down with a victorious look on his face.

“That's not fair!” I complained, “you surprised me! Squealing doesn't count!”

“But you're not whispering now either.”

“You cheated!” I forced myself back to a whisper as I protested.

“This would have gone on forever if I didn't do something.”

He leaned forward, tilting his head with that practiced cuteness that all idols have. Camera training on bold display.

Camera… right.

I pulled away from him, smoothing out my outfit.

“Alright,” I said. My normal speaking tone still sounded so loud, but I ignored that. “What do you want for winning?”

Jiyong hummed, dramatically drawing the droning sound on. He took a step away from me in the direction we had been walking.

“You didn’t have anything planned?”

He turned to face me again, holding his hand out towards me.

I paused, just long enough to make him speak up again.

“Hold my hand while we walk.”

“Is that your request?”

Jiyong laughed, dropping his hand for a moment while he shook his head.

“It is a request, but not my prize,” he lifted his hand again, “will you humor me while I think?”

=====

My hand was still in his when we arrived back at the house.

I went to drop the hold when we approached the door, which, of course, only spurred him to grip my hand tighter.

“Wait,” he tugged me back from the door, to the side of the front stoop with a little less light.

“What?”

The rest of the walk until now had been quiet. It had been nice. I had asked a few times about what he wanted, but he had only said that he was thinking and would tell me when we got back to the house.

And here we were.

Jiyong dropped my hand, but only so he could quickly unplug both of our lapel mics.

“Ji-yah…”

He shook his head slightly, fingers quickly tugging the batteries out of the mic-packs.

Once he was satisfied with our relative privacy, he turned to face me. He tucked both of my hands into his own. Clearly, he wasn’t above pleading.

“Sleep with me.”

I felt my face twitch, opening my mouth to say… something.

“Not like that!” Jiyong quickly defended himself.

I narrowed my eyes but waited for him to explain himself.

“I just mean…” a less confident man would have stammered, “like before.”

I thought back, remembering falling asleep on his chest at the hotel. It had been nice, feeling the rise and fall of his body as he breathed slowly next to me on those few nights. Still…

“We’ve talked about this.”

For a moment, just long enough to make it impossible to brush off as nothing, anger rolled over his face. His hands, still gripping my own, tightened.

I could feel the pace of my heart pick up, my nerves tingling with alertness. With fear. I opened my mouth, unsure what was going to come out.

“Oppa…”

It wasn't a word I used often. I knew that many men disliked the way it sounded on a foreigner's tongue and that some others liked it a bit too much. But at that moment, I only remembered that it was the only way I could break my ex out of his ramping anger. My chest tightened, waiting, hoping, for it to have a similar effect on Jiyong.

It did its work.

My hands were dropped, and that look on his face quickly transformed into a much more familiar one of regret.

“My love…”

“I'll go in first.”

I couldn't let him talk. He was too good at talking. I knew he was. Given the time to talk, he'd convince me. By appealing to pity, sympathy, or something else, he would convince me. So, I pushed past him and made my way inside.

=====

There were some bodies in the common areas of the house, but I didn't take enough notice of them to match them to names. Within thirty seconds, I was pushing my bedroom door shut and locking it for good measure.

Then there was nothing. My body still wanted to run, but there was nowhere else to go. This was the safest place that was immediately available. There was a locked door between me and everyone else.

I glanced at the sliding glass door.

Scrambling over the bed, not taking the two extra seconds to simply walk around it, I rushed to make sure that it was locked as well. For extra security, I pulled the curtains shut tightly.

One locked door in either direction. I was invisible.

It still didn't feel like enough.

Which was how I found myself, fully clothed, sitting in the center of the giant tub. It was empty. But the bathroom provided an additional locked door, and something about the tub created a feeling of security.

I pulled out my phone and stared at it. Soo-ah would answer, but would she understand? Mino would definitely answer and probably offer to come get me - regardless of if it causes more problems later on. Seunghyun… were we really close enough for me to call him about being scared of one of his members? Would Daesung be able to resist telling the others what happened?

Shaking slightly, I kept running through possible contacts for a few minutes before finally deciding.

The phone rang through to voicemail.

“Damn it.”

I hung up, slouching over until my head hit the bottom of the tub.

Who else? There had to be someone else that I hadn't thought of yet.

My phone rang, surprising me so badly that I fell over from my kneeling position. Without even looking at the caller ID, I picked up.

“Hello?”

It's insane how much effort must be exerted to keep your muscles slack. Keeping my breathing calm made me feel light-headed. But it was worth it to play at sleeping if I could have just a little bit of extra time to think through the incoming conversation.

My pillow, which I now realized was Jiyong's bare chest, was moving again.

He carefully slipped a hand under my head as he turned towards me, effectively rolling himself out from under me.

I let myself frown a little bit, but desperately held on to my false slumber. Maybe he'd just leave?

I felt him move, slow, gentle, carefully sliding my actual pillow under my head and settling me onto it.

“My sleepy love,” he was whispering, apparently buying my ruse.

I let myself shuffle slightly, readjusting to lay more comfortably. A somewhat alarming amount of regretful moisture made itself known between my legs with the motion.

I would have to worry about that later.

I felt the mattress, the actual mattress this time, shift as Jiyong moved again. If I had to guess, he had sat up, but he didn't seem to be getting out of bed.

Fingertips touched my face, just barely making contact as he brushed my hair out of my face.

“Do you know how happy I am?”

I hoped this one-sided conversation wouldn't last too long. I wasn't keen on how much embarrassing slime was soaking into the sheets beneath me.

“I'll make you happy too,” his fingers ghosted over my skin, flitting over my lips.

“You just need to let me show you.”

Down my cheek.

“I'll make it perfect.”

Down my neck.

“I'll make you perfect.”

As he traced over my collarbone, I wondered what he meant by that. I was distracted by his fingers continuing on, tracing down the length of my arm.

It felt… nice. In another timeline, maybe.

“My perfect love.”

His hand retreated, and the mattress shifted again. I felt the warmth of his body next to mine before I felt the contact. His hand slid under the bedsheets, smoothing over the skin of my stomach before coming to rest between my belly button and pelvis.

“You'll be mine, won't you my love?”

Next was the combined sensation of his hair, cheek, and lips as he leaned in and kissed my shoulder.

“I know you will be.”

=====

Jiyong left shortly after that. He had not tried to wake me up, and I was grateful for that.

I strained my ears, trying to make out the faint sounds, or lack of sounds, that eventually indicated I was in the clear. After that, I counted to a hundred.

Done with that, I jolted up from bed and bolted to the bathroom.

After an extremely thorough shower, I dug my phone out of the sad lump of clothing on my floor.

=====

From: Seunghyun [1 attachment] From: Seunghyun Are you okay?

The picture showed the remnants of last night's dinner, still laid out on the table outside. From the lighting, it appeared that the photo had been taken in the early hours of the morning. That assumption was further supported by the dew and accumulated insects that had gathered across the table, dishes, and food. Finally it was confirmed by the timestamp.

All in all, it seemed to me a picture of overt decadence and waste.

It seemed fitting somehow.

To: Seunghyun I'm not sure

I stared at the phone screen, considering my options.

Part of me wanted to confide in Seunghyun. Would that be stupid? He and I were… something like friends. I wanted to tell him and have him give me advice.

Would he get upset? Jealous? Angry? He claimed he didn't care, and he certainly appeared perfectly fine when it came to Daesung. But Daesung was Daesung and Jiyong was… something else.

From: Seunghyun How can I help?

Something inside me unclenched at the question, only to tighten with anxiety again when I saw a little glowing number still on my screen.

From: Hugeboy I can't think of an excuse to text you so I'm just going to say I miss you From: Hugeboy I can't even play around like you're distracting me because I have absolutely nothing going on these days From: Hugeboy This is the worst timing for me to start falling for someone From: Hugeboy I have nothing else to focus on From: Hugeboy Hyung and I finished our song already From: Hugeboy (/≧◇≦＼) From: Hugeboy You're probably busy filming… fighting (^o^)／~~

I couldn't wrap my brain around the lightheartedness and sporadic anxiety of Mino's texts. I stared at them, swiping my screen up and down as if I might be able to accidentally summon a response from the blurred letters on my screen.

He had to be pretending, right? Playing at being relaxed. Acting as if everything was fine.

I let my phone flop onto the mattress and stared at the wall as I tried to imagine what being Mino must be like.

You meet a girl. You meet a girl and for some reason get a little obsessed. That was relatable enough. Infatuation strikes plenty of people for no good reason.

So you meet a girl, get a little obsessed, and then find out she's filming some dating show. Not just any dating show though. A dating show with your industry seniors. People who have more experience, fame, and money than you. People whose names are capital K “Known” by the public. What do you do?

What would I do?

I'd probably give up. I'd watch the show and form strong opinions on the contestants. I'd gossip with Soo-ah about which pairing made sense and why. I'd roll my eyes at whatever pairing she'd choose and tell her she was insane.

So why wasn't Mino doing that?

I picked up my phone and unlocked it to re-read his messages.

“I miss you”

“... to start falling for someone”

I scrolled further up.

=====

A vibration and notification pulled me out of my reverie.

I scrunched my eyes shut, feeling the skin on my nose crinkle up from it. Taking a deep breath in, I held it for a moment. Scrunch, air, pause………

I wheezed slightly as the air burst out of me, lungs screaming for another delivery of oxygen.

From: Llyong Boho I'm so sorry my love. Something came up at work. I need to be available in the building. I don't imagine it would be much fun for you to wait around the office for me. I should be back by 4pm.

I felt a little high. Maybe from the breathing thing. Maybe from knowing I didn't need to see Jiyong until this afternoon.

To: Llyong Boho Don't worry about me.

His response was immediate, as if he had been waiting for me to message him back.

From: Llyong Boho I always worry about you ❤️

I couldn't make myself come up with some psuedo-polite response for that, so I let the conversation end there. Closing all my open apps, I took a second to stare at the little glowing clock in the corner of the screen. It was just past 10am, and I didn't have to see, hear, or even think about Jiyong for at least five or so hours.

I let the impulsiveness win.

=====

"Do you love me?"

Mino blinked, Jhonny in his arms as he gaped at me through his front door.

"Yeah," he answered easily enough, though he kept blinking, "hi… what?"

I pushed past him and started tugging my shoes off. Once I was free of them I turned to face him again.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

Again, the answer came easily. Obviously. As if I had asked him what day it was.

"What does that mean? You loving me," my body ached. I thought I might be swaying on the spot. "How?"

Mino leaned down slightly, dropping Jhonny gently to the floor. After straightening up, he put a hand on my arm. He pulled me into a hug, gently. Soft. Like he thought I'd break if he squeezed too hard.

"It just means I love you."

Had I been shaking this whole time? I wasn't sure. But now, encircled by Mino's limbs, I knew for certain that I was. Adrenaline, maybe.

"I’m going to hurt you."

The words came out like a cough. Spit caught in my throat and forced free.

I felt Mino shrug.

"It's okay."

"I don't want to hurt you," I explained, "but it's going to happen anyway."

"That's okay," Mino repeated, "I already know."

"No," I shook my head, "I don't mean the show."

Mino's already loose hold freed up a bit more. He moved so he could look me directly in the face.

"What do you mean, then?"

My hands, having hung limp at my sides this entire time, chased his body through the bit of space he had created between us. Twin snakes searching up his torso until they were able to lead my hands to his cheeks.

"I mean right now."

I didn't give him time to respond before pressing my lips to his. But he didn't resist when I pulled him forward either.

After a moment I had him pushed against the closest empty wall and stood on my tip-toes to make sure I could speak into his ear.

"Are you going to fuck me?"

I punctuated the question by tugging at his ear with my teeth. I had suspected they were a sensitive spot for him ever since that meeting with Kyung, and the whine he let out seemed to prove it.

He said something, but I was too busy shoving my hands up his shirt and directing him into his living room to listen. He acquiesced to my insistent pushing easily enough, but I didn't want to assume. After pulling his shirt off of him, I pushed him to sit down.

"What was that?"

"I thought you were joking," Mino grunted as he fell back onto his sofa. I crawled into his lap, once again tracing my hands up his chest.

"Why would I joke about that?" I asked the question into his neck before digging my teeth softly into the flesh there.

"Becaaaaahh…" he paused to take a hissing deep breath, "I thought you were waiting until the sho…"

He was cut off again, this time by my sitting up and pulling my own shirt up and off.

His mouth hung open slightly as he took me in. He seemed stunned. I decided to jump-start things.

I took his hands in my own and brought them to my back, to the band of my bra.

"Take this off of me, Mino."

He looked for a second like he was going to protest, but then decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. His hands blindly scrambled for a few moments before he was peeling the piece of clothing off.

"Noona…"

His hands moved slowly, soft against my skin. Smoothing their way from my waist to my ribs to my chest. He was even more gentle once he reached the piercings, thumbs barely jostling the rings.

"Do you want to fuck me with the skirt on or off?"

His entire face, neck, and half of his chest was reddened with a heated flush. I could see him struggling between wanting to hide his face in his hands, and wanting to keep his hands on my skin. After a few seconds, he settled on leaning forward to hide his face in my neck.

"I wanna do what you wanna do," he mumbled the words into my shoulder, then started pressing kisses against my skin.

I pushed my fingers into his hair, curling around the damaged strands to pull his head away from his hiding place.

A whimpered moan eked out from between his lips when I tugged his hair to position him where I wanted him. His eyes rolled back for a moment before settling and meeting my own.

"I want you to tell me if you like the skirt better on me or on the floor."

His eyelids fluttered briefly before he answered.

"Floor."

I loosened my grip so I could rub at his scalp with my fingertips.

"Good boy."

=====

I knew that Mino hadn't heard the door being unlocked and opened. I had barely heard it myself, and I wasn't half drowning in the pile of clothing that had spilled over the overly cushioned armrest of the sofa.

There was no way to miss the voice though.

"I don't know why you're not answering your phone, but I just finished making the greatest album of all time…" Zico's voice floated in from the entry hall, amid the sound of him shucking his boots off.

Somehow, Mino was still too lost to react. I did the barest minimum amount of mental math that I could before deciding that I had already come this far.

"So I hope you have alcohol in your fridge and a full battery on your switch because I need to chill and celebraaaaaooooh my lord…"

And honestly? Who gives a shit anymore? Not me.

I kept rocking myself on Mino, now in a staring match with Zico across the room.

Mino was still lost. He was keeping up a steady stream of whines and fragmented words as I moved.

"Noona… aha! You… I'm so… hmm… please…"

"Zico's here," I announced.

"What?... so good… I…"

I stopped moving, causing Mino to change his whining.

"No no no no no please noona," he pushed himself to be somewhat sitting up, reaching out, looking like he might cry, "I'll be so good please noon-augh!"

I cut him off by grabbing his hair again. I suspected that he wouldn't truly mind.

I leaned down to press a kiss against his mouth before pulling back just slightly and tilting my head so my eyes could meet Zico's again. I nodded in his direction.

"Zico is here."

"Huh?" Mino seemed to be struggling with processing anything that wasn't a physical sensation.

I physically turned his head to look at Zico.

"Hyung?" Mino's eyes widened and he moved to sit up entirely, moving his arms to cover me from view.

The thing was, Zico wasn't looking at me. Not really. His eyes were trained more on Mino. They swept across his chest, lingering on the marks I had left there. From there, his eyes trailed over Mino's now entirely unstyled hair before dipping back down over his torso. For the briefest moment he eyed where Mino and I were joined before he spun on the spot and started stammering apologies.

Interesting.

"I'm so sorry! I can just go or, or… I co… uh…"

I placed a hand on Mino's chest and pushed him back once again. Planting it firmly, I started moving again.

Mino looked up at me, the question apparent on his face between grimaces of pleasure.

"Noona…"

I smiled at him and shook my head. He fell quiet, but the concerned tilt of his eyebrows remained.

"Jiho-yah," I called out.

I saw Zico turn slightly, just barely catching sight of his face before he turned away again.

"Noonim," he coughed out in acknowledgement.

I laughed at his sudden over-polite tone.

"You wanted to see my tattoos," I grinned, "right?"

"Noonaaa~" Mino whined under me.

"Hush Mino," I leaned down to peck his cheek. While there, I lowered my voice.

"Do you want him to leave?"

I retreated a bit, taking in his features. For the first time since I had first settled onto him, his eyes fully met mine. They flicked back and forth between them. Biting his lip, I could tell he was dedicating as much brain power as he could spare to the question. After a moment that seemed to stretch for ages, he shook his head.

I rewarded him with another kiss, this time on his lips.

"Good boy."

=====

"So…" I probably should have gotten a little more dressed before starting this conversation. Neither of the boys would meet my eye, nor each other's. But it was unbearably hot in the small room.

"I know it's awkward, but I think some sort of conversation is warranted right now."

Zico sighed, leaning forward to sink his head into his hands.

"I didn't want you to find out," he mumbled, "especially not like this."

I could guess what he was talking about. And if I could guess, I knew Mino could too. Still…

"Find out what?" I prodded.

"Can you please get dressed?" Zico pleaded through his hands, "this is awkward enough as is."

"I'll put my shirt on when you do," I snapped back. "I don't particularly want to have this conversation in front of your mom."

He groaned, but fell to his knees and shuffled through the remaining bits of clothing on the floor until he found his t-shirt. After pulling it on, he extracted my own shirt and held it out to me.

"Fine," I huffed. I took it and tugged it over my head. "Better?"

"Thank you," he said quietly. He turned slightly, facing more towards his friend now.

"Mino?"

Mino hummed to signal that he was listening, despite remaining motionless where he was staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry man, I should have just le-."

"If anyone should be sorry, it should be me," I pointed out.

"What?" Mino lifted his head to look at me, "no. That… no. It's fine. Everything is fine."

"It is?" Zico asked. He was staring at Mino, gaze hard and somewhat prying.

"Yeah," Mino shifted in his seat, looking shy now, "it's fine hyung. It… I mean…"

"Should I leave for this part?" I asked, not wanting at all to leave for this part.

"Yes," Zico answered.

"No," at the same moment, Mino gripped my arm.

"No," he reiterated, finally meeting Zico's eye, "just… give me a second hyung. Please."

Zico nodded, scrambling his way back to the chair. He fell into it in a mess, legs skewed every which way over the armrest.

"So," I started, trying my hardest to sound unconcerned, "is this the part where you say no homo?"

"What?" Mino asked, sounding tired and small now.

"Kinda homo," Zico huffed through the hands that he was now resting his face in.

I couldn't help but snort out an extremely unattractive laugh at that. Mino, on the other hand, just looked further confused.

"Aigoo, baby," I reached over to ruffle his hair.

"What?" He asked, leaning into the touch.

"I think I'm a little bit gay," Zico deadpanned. He lifted his hands and shook them in the universal jazz hand motion. "Surprise."

Mino rolled his eyes. He pulled away from my hand, gazing shrewdly at his hyung. "No you're not."

"Respectfully, I have your cum drying on my stomach and I'm not mad about it. I think I'd know."

"Okay," Mino conceded, "fine. But you also still have noona on your face."

"Mino," Zico righted himself and leaned forward, staring down his friend, "I know you know what a bisexual is."

Mino looked surprised, then confused, then a few other things. Finally, he settled on politely surprised.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Zico leaned back again, nodding, "oh."

"Besides," I decided to pipe in, "you didn't seem to mind when he was on his knees an-"

"I don't mind!" Mino whined, defending himself. "Seriously, hyung, I don't. I just…" he hunched in on himself slightly, getting shy, "I never thought of it before. With you, I mean."

"I did," Zico admitted. "Quite a bit. Especially after you showed up."

Zico nodded towards me.

"Really?" I pressed a hand against my own chest, "well… I guess I should admit that I definitely had at least one passing thought about the two of you before."

"What?" Mino straightened up, turning to face me on the sofa, "when?"

"At your apartment," Zico guessed, "right?"

I nodded, not really feeling a need to expand on it.

“For real?” Mino asked, incredulous. “Am I the weird one for not thinking about threesomes with my friends?”

I could only shrug at that. Maybe he was. How could anyone ever truly know?

“Listen,” Zico groaned, “I don't want to question things too much but since when are you two even hooking up?”

“Ah, hyung! You can't ju-”

“About an hour ago.”

I could maybe get a job at making conversations go quiet. While everyone was still breathing, it definitely felt like the gas in our lungs was no longer air.

Jhonny wandered into the room, jumping up onto the armrest of the sofa. She stretched, digging her nails into the cloth slightly.

“That was a fucking joke, right?”

Mino groaned, burying his face in his hands now.

I clicked my teeth slightly, once again shrugging.

Zico slumped in the chair to a degree not normally seen outside editorial photoshoots.

“You…” he sighed before continuing. “You mean to tell me that I walked in on the first time you two have fucked?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh.”

Zico struggled to sit up and lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“And you then invited me to join in on that very same first…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Why are you like this?”

“Hyung…”

“I, uh,” I swallowed, staring intently at a rumpled corner of Mino's rug. “I have an answer, um… to that question. But it's not a good one. And…”

I blinked, feeling nauseous at the thought I had been suppressing ever since I had woken up on the boat.

“I don't know what to do about it.”

Mino peeked over his hands at me.

Zico stared at me with an expression that seemed to be something very close to rage.

They were making me feel itchy. I stood up and started digging through the clothing strewn around the living room.

“I should go…” I found one of my socks. “I think I need to talk to, I don't know,” I found the other sock. “Maybe a lawyer? I honestly don't know what t-”

I was tugged down, sideways, ungraceful, a flailing combination of limbs, onto the sofa next to Mino.

“Sit down for a second,” Mino spoke softly. Tenderly? Shyly? It was hard to tell.

“What happened?” Zico asked, cutting straight to the point.

Absent-mindedly, my hand went to adjust a pair of glasses that I was not currently wearing.

“I don't think he's afraid of me.”

“Who-”

“What makes you say that?” Zico cut through Mino's question.

“I… he always… I don't…” a dozen sentences were trampling each other to get out of my mouth first. I took a deep breath and tried again.

“We slept together.”

I was met with silence, tense in different ways from different directions.

“It doesn't really make sense, right? He's charming, I think, but I don't actually like him.”

“Who…?” Mino drew the word out a bit.

“Jiyong,” Zico answered for me. “Right?”

“Yeah.”

“On the boat?”

“What boat?” Mino asked.

I was struck, again, by how convoluted my friendships had become recently.

“Not on the boat,” I answered quietly.

Zico frowned, looking a bit like he was working out a math problem.

“What boat?” Mino tried again. He was beginning to sound annoyed.

“He chartered a boat for them to go out to the islands,” Zico muttered, expression still that of someone trying to remember what day it is.

“Wait,” the annoyance in Mino's voice was still building, “so you and Jiyong we-”

“Aht!” Zico snapped his fingers towards Mino, effectively cutting him off.

Mino and I both watched him, freely lending him the conversational reins.

“We're not ignoring that,” he addressed Mino. “One thing at a time.”

Mino didn't seem exactly happy with that, but he nodded anyway.

Zico returned his attention to me.

“What does that have to do with,” his previous authoritative air quickly dissipated as he spoke, gesturing vaguely between Mino and myself, “this?”

I hid my face in my hands.

I hated Zico. Just a little bit. Just right now. I hated him but I knew he was probably doing the right thing by asking these questions. Everything right now was just the fallout of my own choices.

So really, I didn't hate Zico. I hated myself.

There was no gloss I could put on the situation to salvage, well, probably anything.

“Noona…”

Hearing Mino's soft voice just made me feel worse. I had been telling him the truth earlier. I would hurt him. I did hurt him. He just didn't know it yet.

“What… hey…”

I hadn't realized I was crying, but now that Mino was kneeling in front of me and reaching between my arms to dab at my wet cheeks with a tissue there was no way I could stop it.

“I'm sorry,” I mumbled.

“It's okay,” he replied.

“I'm so sorry Mino.”

He just shushed me, making soft noises of reassurance.

I only felt worse.

“I said it,” I swallowed thickly, “but that doesn't matter. I said it and I didn't want to but I did it anyway. Mino, I'm sorry.”

“Hey now,” his hands gently wound their way around my wrists, tugging my hands off of my face.

I stared at the floor next to him, avoiding eye contact. It was selfish, but what else could I do?

“I said it was okay.”

I heard a sound from the kitchen. Water filling something. Glancing up quickly, I saw that Zico had cleared the room, giving Mino and I a moment in relative privacy.

Mino managed to catch my eye as I looked around. He took a breath, then paused. It was obvious he was overthinking something.

“What?”

He licked his lips, then sat down a bit more. He quickly recovered the distance that his movement had caused between us by leaning forward and resting his chin on my thigh.

“Do you even like me?”

The urge to burst out in more tears choked my response.

I did like him. I liked him a lot. I liked him very much like I liked Daesung. I… realized I should probably say some of that out loud rather than sit there in silence.

“I do,” I managed to get the words out without crying again. “I really do, Mino.”

He tilted his head, cheek pressing against my leg as he nodded.

“But it's not the same, is it?”

I brushed his hair out of his face, tracing the border between the short sides and longer top.

“The same as what?”

He frowned, then squeezed his eyes shut.

“You like me, but you love hyung.”

My fingers froze.

A face came to mind. An unlikely one. It was followed by another, less likely one. I definitely needed more information before continuing this conversation.

“Hyung?”

“Jiyong.”

That had not been either of the faces.

I laughed. Or, I tried to laugh. My throat was still sticky from crying, so it came out more like a cough.

“Oh my god! No!”

Mino sat up, eyebrows tight as he watched me fall into a hysterical laughing fit.

“But you said you slept together.”

I shook my head.

That just made Mino look more confused.

“He said he'd ruin my career.”

The laughter died in my chest.

“What?” I blinked at him.

“Yeah,” Mino nodded, “he said if I made you uncomfortable that he would ruin my entire life.”

“Of course,” I scoffed. “He is so…” I couldn't think of a word, in any language, that would fit what I wanted to say. So I sighed instead.

“I kind of hate Jiyong.”

Mino rubbed a hand over his face, looking more stressed by the moment.

“You just said you slept with him.”

“I know,” I shook my head. “It doesn't make sense to me either. I don't like him, everything he does pisses me off. I was just drunk...”

I trailed off. Had I been drunk? I tried to remember what had happened last night. The memories were there but, just like the night on the boat, they didn't make sense. Had there even been alcohol? There had to have been. The amount I had drank in the last few weeks was heaps more than I typically did.

“I wish I could protect you more.”

For some reason, it didn't annoy me when he said it.

No, rather than the boiling up of stubborn self-sufficiency that the sentiment usually caused, I felt a queasiness that felt extremely similar to heartbreak.

Between the two of us, I was undeniably the bad guy. I had shown up here out of selfishness and hurt, looking for something I knew I'd be able to control. I had told him I would hurt him, not as a real warning but just to be able to justify myself when he said it was okay. Just like he had done. Just like I knew he would do.

And somehow, he was feeling sorry for me.

=====

I left Mino's apartment feeling miserable, but better, but worse. Predictably, trying to fuck my problems away hadn't helped.

Maybe if Zico hadn't shown up… but that was probably just wishful thinking.

I stopped at a convenience store on my way back, blindly choosing something from the drink cooler to potentially explain my absence. I could pretend I just went on a walk. I took some time to myself. That sounded rational enough, right?

=====

I had passed a few bodies in the living room. I hadn't paid much attention to exactly who they were. I simply offered a vague wave and made a beeline for my room.

I made it to my vanity before my phone chimed.

From: Seunghyun I am worried about you. From: Seunghyun I'm not going to ask where you went. From: Seunghyun I'm more concerned with Jiyong sneaking out of your room this morning. From: Seunghyun That sounds judgemental. It isn't supposed to be.

I could hear a faint movement on the other side of my bedroom door. I could picture Seunghyun out there, staring at his phone and debating whether or not he should knock.

To: Seunghyun It's unlocked.

I heard the alert of my message going through.

From: Seunghyun That's not the same as being open.

I groaned and stood up. I could swear I heard a muffled laugh in the hallway.

I pulled open my door and spoke before he could.

“Why are you being weird?”

He smiled at that, taking his time before answering.

“Well, at least you're not catatonic.” He lifted a plate with apple slices and peanut butter on it. “I brought an offering.”

I pressed my lips together, willing myself to not break down crying yet again, and stepped back to wave him in.

I sat back down at my vanity, pulling my legs up and against my body. I knew the body language was a bit obvious, but it helped.

Seunghyun set the plate down on the marble top before settling himself to sit at the foot of my bed.

For a few moments, neither of us said anything. I could see him watching me. His eyes, reflected in the mirror, roving over my body. He didn't appear to be judging me, but more like he was simply taking inventory. Making sure everything was where it belonged.

“What you do is your business,” Seunghyun finally broke the silence. “It was out of character though, so I was worried.”

I nodded, but couldn't think of any words that were worth saying.

He sighed, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. Upwards, dragging the cloth of his pants into wrinkles. Down again, smoothing them out.

“I don't know how to ask what I want to know,” his cadence was stilted somehow. Like he was questioning each word's place in the sentence.

“I guess I could start by saying that I have misjudged my friends before, so while I don't think of Jiyong-ah as the type to physically harm someon-”

The way he said his name didn't escape my notice. Familiar, diminutive, the way you'd call your younger brother. Despite their differences now, I was reminded that they had been very close at one point.

“It wasn't like that,” I interrupted him.

Seunghyun let out what air had been left inside his lungs. I could feel him relax, drooping almost - as if he had been tensing every part of himself. Bracing for impact.

“Good,” he sounded out of breath. He was nodding, absently running his hands through his hair. “That's good. I… I didn't think so, like I said, but…”

“But you've been wrong before,” I offered.

“Yeah.”

We fell back into silence.

I could feel that tension trickling back into his body. A steady stream, washing away the momentary relief.

“It seems like whatever happened doesn't sit right with you,” he was using that careful speech again.

“I don't know,” I shrugged. I wondered, again and again and again, how much I should tell him.

“It doesn't make sense. I was there and it doesn't make sense. I invited him in and I don't know why.”

I let my legs drop, flopping to either side to sit semi-crossed as I turned and met Seunghyun's gaze.

“Why did I do that?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He could only slowly shake his head, shrugging slightly because of course he didn't have an answer. How could he?

“This morning, I pretended to sleep until he left,” I admitted. “I couldn't stand to face him. I didn't want to have whatever conversation it would be.”

Seunghyun nodded, silent, letting me vent.

“And I know that he's going to think it means something. He's going to think that…” I shook my head. “He's so convinced, you know? He thinks it's inevitable.”

“It's not.”

He said it firmly. Like he was trying to convince me. And maybe he was. Maybe that's what I needed.

“Promise?”

Seunghyun lifted an arm, holding his hand towards me. He gestured for me to join him on the bed.

I went. Taking a seat next to him, I let him pull me against his body in something like a hug.

“I promise,” he mumbled it into my hair, quickly kissing my head before continuing. “The companies might want it to go that way, but it is your choice. I promise it's yours.”

I didn't cry. Truly, I didn't. I did melt slightly though. Smushed against him, I felt my body sag into his.

“There's more,” I said it quietly, half hoping he wouldn't hear it.

“You can tell me,” Seunghyun's hand squeezed my arm slightly, before he started rubbing it slowly.

“Today, after,” I cleared my throat, “I went to Mino’s apartment.”

His hand paused for just a half a second, but resumed its motion. He hummed, a noise to tell me to keep going.

“I just… I wanted it to be mine. To make a choice that I knew wasn't pressured.”

I could feel him tense up next to me. Physically this time. I felt the stress hit his shoulders and stomach.

I pushed myself away from him. Leaning forward, pressing my torso against my legs, I wrapped my arms around my knees, hiding my face between my hair and my legs.

“I'm sorry.”

I felt him stand up, his weight lifting from the mattress. I knew he was about to leave. He was going to walk out. He had warned me about this, and I had done it anyway. I had been given a thousand signs to stop but had just kept going. And now I was going to lose one of the only people I had in my corner.

His hands gripped mine. He tugged them, unwinding me from myself. Then they shifted, sliding up and under my arms. He lifted me, pulling me to stand up and then pressing my body against his in a tight hug.

“Don't apologize,” he swayed us slightly. “Don't apologize to me.”

“But-”

“No,” he cut me off. “You don't owe me anything. We're not together. I already explained how I feel about that sort of thing anyway. You do not need to apologize to me.”

“I thought you'd hate me,” I explained lamely.

“The worst thing I feel is that maybe I shouldn't have resisted it before.”

I wriggled, pulling away just enough to get a good look at Seunghyun's face.

“What?”

“I kept turning you down,” he explained. “Maybe you wouldn't feel guilty if it had been me instead.”

He wasn't necessarily wrong, and he didn't seem to be saying it in a self-aggrandizing way. He also wasn't saying it in a flirtatious way. He was just… pointing something out.

“You wouldn't want that.”

He smiled, a little, before leaning forward. He stopped just a hair away from kissing me.

“I want you all the time,” he paused, taking a moment to bump his nose against mine. “I just want you to want me too.”

=====

To say that I was relieved to see Jiyong would be perhaps the most obvious lie that I could possibly tell. No, if I had my way he would have maybe fallen down a sewer grate on the way back to the house from whatever he had been doing at the company. Anything to avoid a conversation that I was sure to hate.

Somehow, this was even worse.

“I don't understand.”

“It's what the producers want.”

Jiyong had the presence of mind to look embarrassed, but not nearly enough in my opinion.

We were walking through Banpo Hangang park. Or, we had been. After hearing that some group of unknown staff members wanted to not only dictate the show, but put me in danger in the process, my body was refusing to move.

“I want to hear it from them.”

Something flashed over Jiyong's face at that. The urge to defend himself, maybe. I could practically hear an alternate version of him interrogating me about why I didn't just trust him.

But the real version of him, the one in this universe, took a breath and nodded slowly.

“I understand that, but it won't change anything.”

“I will grind this show to a halt,” I used the only thing I had. “I will not spend a second more than necessary with that man.”

Jiyong lifted a hand, reaching out towards me as he opened his mouth. He had that stupid appeasing look on his face. A mix that was supposed to be comforting but helpless.

“Don't touch me!” I snapped.

He grimaced, but dropped his hand.

“I tried to argue it, my love,” he said, “I told them you wouldn't go for it. But it's what they want.”

I glared at him, biting the inside of my lips.

“Do they know?” I asked. “Did you tell him what he tried to do? What he did do?”

“They know about him.”

How conveniently vague.

“Do they know about me?” I demanded. “Do they know what I did to him when he tried?”

Jiyong looked unsure of himself for a moment. Uncomfortable with having lost control of the conversation.

“They're practically begging for either a scandal or a full lawsuit with this. If he even tries to touch me again, I will break something Jiyong. Ask them if they’re ready to cover that up.”

“I can try to talk to them again,” he weakly offered. “But they only care about what the audience will like.”

“No, Ji, they care about money. So I need you to remind them that no amount of advertising revenue will properly offset the absolute cleaning I will do if I decide to push the issue into the courts.”

He blinked at me. Dumbfounded.

Good. If he was stupefied, maybe the message would actually get through.

“I've got texts, I've got witnesses. Maybe not to the act itself, but the immediate fallout for sure.”

I tried not to think about whether or not that was actually true. My two main witnesses were probably both a bit upset with me right now. Understandably so, but still…

Zico had said it best. I needed to remind them to be scared of me.

“I will talk to them,” he was close to begging now. “I promise I'll make them drop him.”

I pulled my phone out, typing as I spoke.

“That's not good enough. I want to be there for that conversation,” I hit send and pocketed my phone again. “It's about me, I should be there.”

To: Seunghyun, Chul Producers want to force me to choose Seungri as one of my top 3.

Jiyong was nodding, attempting to placate me again. “I'll see if I can arrange a meeting.”

=====

The mood of the date was unsalvageable after that conversation. I wondered how skilled the editors were. The idea of their non-disclosure agreements floated through my mind again. All it would take was one leak, and the problem might be solved for me.

That might be wishful thinking though. Job security was a hell of a motivator after all. The chance at a payout versus the promise of continued paychecks was some tough math.

Jiyong and I tried to play something like nice for the cameras as we retreated from the park. He reached for my hand as we walked, and I had to cover my pulling away with a joke about being decent on TV.

As soon as I took a seat in Jiyong's car, I was in full ice-out mode again. Car cameras be damned.

He tried to start a conversation anyway.

“My love,” he reached over to settle his hand on my thigh. “I know th-”

I lifted his hand off my leg and dropped it on the far side of the emergency brake.

He huffed, finally letting his annoyance actually show.

“I'm not the one doing this. I am on your side.”

“If you were on my side, we wouldn't even need to be having this conversation!” I couldn't hold back. I knew I was practically yelling, but that aggravatingly overly familiar feeling of frustrated tears was building up again.

“You want us to be together so badly, but it's like you don't know me at all. How could you be told that and not stand up for me?”

“You keep telling me not to worry about you,” he groaned. “You say you can take care of yourself.”

“I wasn't there! How am I supposed to take care of something I don't even know is happening?!”

Jiyong rubbed a hand over his face.

“In that meeting, you were my representative. Yes, I am an adult that can look after myself. But when I am not in the room where the decisions are being made, how am I supposed to do that?”

“I'll fix it,” he spoke blankly, staring at his steering wheel. “I'll make them choose someone else.”

“No, Jiyong.”

Despite my current utter distaste for having any sort of physical contact with him at the moment, I reached across the car and pulled his head to look at me with a finger under his chin.

“You will tell them that I will choose.”

He stared at me for a few seconds before nodding.

“I'll tell them.”

“Good,” I withdrew my hand. “Let's go back.”

He started the engine. He seemed off somehow. Shaky, almost.

“What about dinner?”

“I'm not hungry.”

=====

I got one reply on the drive back to the house.

From: Seunghyun I'll look into it.

The second reply came almost an hour later, as I was laying on my bed and doom-scrolling through SNS.

From: Chul That doesn’t sound right. I don't think they can dictate that sort of thing.

Seunghyun responded quickly.

From: Seunghyun I have copies of the application and waivers. My lawyer will go through them. From: Chul Good idea. I'll see what I can find out from the staff side. From: Chul I would expect to have already heard about it. From: Chul Where did you hear it?

I groaned, not really wanting to think about the conversation with Jiyong more than my brain already was.

To: Seunghyun, Chul Jiyong told me. To: Seunghyun, Chul Apparently that's what he had to handle at the company today. From: Seunghyun He was with Teddy today. From: Seunghyun I'm going out to check some things. From: Seunghyun What exactly did Jiyong say? To: Seunghyun, Chul That the producers want my top three to be Seungri, Taeyang, and him To: Seunghyun, Chul Something about balancing surprise and narrative arc From: Chul That doesn't sound right From: Chul We'll figure it out tomorrow, okay? Just rest up for now. From: Seunghyun Agreed.

That appeared to be the end of the conversation for the night. I switched over to see what the little notification badge was standing for.

From: Zico If you're anything like how I think you are, you're trying to figure out a way to punish yourself right now.

That was a fair assumption, and if I hadn't had the argument with Jiyong, he'd be correct.

From: Zico Don't do anything fucking stupid. From: Zico Though you already fucked Jiyong, so we might be past that point.

I grimaced, gritting my teeth. Harsh, but fair.

From: Zico And coming to Mino about it? Pulling me into it? If I didn't know how much everything has been fucking with your head I would be furious. From: Zico Good news, we are on your side. Bad news, what the fuck is wrong with you? From: Zico I'm not going to pretend that I don't understand it. But I also won't pretend that I do. From: Zico You’re extremely lucky that you just happened to land with two people who have a history of making this exact bad decision. From: Zico Also, the sex was dope as hell so don't even stress about that I think you fixed something in Mino's back too so 10 out of 10 would fuck again

I wrote the only thing I could think of.

To: Zico I'm sorry.

I stared at the blinking cursor on my screen for a second before typing again.

I was not the type to back down from a building argument. At least, I tried not to be. And kissing him again? I knew how I had gotten there, but in the light of day I just couldn't make the logic work out the same as it had last night.

But I could work that stuff out later. Right now, I had to peel a human banana clip off of myself and track down a production… assistant? Director? It occurred to me that I didn't actually know what Chul's job title actually was.

Again, not a priority at the moment.

I shook my head, trying to knock loose the cobwebs that had accumulated in there overnight. I immediately regretted the action as an invisible band tightened itself around my temples.

Muffling a groan, I rolled towards the edge of the bed, finding my escape from his clutches easier than I had expected.

Jiyong only let out a soft whine, but stayed asleep. I grabbed one of the pillows and pushed it towards his arms. He readily accepted it, pulling it into his body in a stranglehold.

=====

Once I was above deck, I located a staff person that I vaguely recognized. I had seen her around a few times, typically with an assortment of cords in her hands.

This morning however, she was leaning against a railing. In one hand she had some sort of snack bar, in the other she seemed to be scrolling through sns.

As I approached, she gave me an apologetic look - covering her somewhat full mouth and bowing. I waved a hand and shook my head, hoping I was coming off as nonchalant and not grimacing too much from the growing dizziness between my eyes.

"Sorry for interrupting," I started, "I just wanted to know if Chul is around."

"Mm," she paused, finishing chewing before continuing, "he's still downstairs. I guess he's got motion sickness pretty bad."

"Ah," I frowned, "I was hoping to talk to him before everything really got started today."

"Hmm…" she looked a little unsure.

"Please."

After a second, she nodded. "I'll show you," she offered.

I followed her back below deck.

=====

The room was smaller. Substantially so. Obviously meant as staff quarters.

It annoyed me, but I figured I'd gone on enough anti-capitalist tangents before. Besides, if Chul wasn't feeling well there was no reason for me to bring more negativity to him.

I also had something more urgent to address.

Chul looked like shit. He was rumpled. Hair stuck out at odd angles, wrinkled clothes, and that wince of illness. He was busy shaking some tablets onto his hand.

"Hey," I took a seat on an empty bunk, "anything I can do to help?"

He shook his head, wincing again.

"I've got dramamine and pain killers," he huffed, "I'll live. What's up?"

I sunk into myself slightly, feeling a little guilty that I was - once again - coming to him for a favor.

"I…" I paused as another staffer came in for a moment. They grabbed a bag and left without a word. Wordlessly, Chul handed me the bottle of pills. Taksen. I took two, nodding in thanks as he handed over a bottle of water as well.

I waited an extra second after swallowing the pills before starting again.

"I'm worried about this week."

Chul nodded, silently urging me to continue.

"I woke up and…" I blinked, brows dipping as I thought it over again, "I can't make sense of last night."

"Yeah," he agreed, "I didn't expect you two to get over things so quickly."

"Exactly!" I nodded - ignoring the headache, "it's like Ji… he just knows how to get past my guard somehow."

Chul hummed, a thoughtful look taking over his features.

"But… what does this have to do with me?" He asked.

"I… I don't know. I just wanted…" I frowned. What did I want? Someone to keep an eye on me? Someone to talk to?

"I just wanted to know if I was crazy or not for thinking it was strange."

He laughed. Not at me. More of a what can I say sort of laugh.

"The whole thing is strange. Has anything happened to you this last month that isn't strange?"

I rolled my eyes, huffing at him and crossing my arms.

"Okay," I conceded, "but this is extra strange. I couldn't stand his jealousy, but one conversation later I let him sleep in my bed?"

Chul lifted an eyebrow, teasing me.

"Shut up," I snapped, "nothing happened. Just sleep."

He shook his head, raising his hands as if showing his innocence.

"But it's still weird!" I pushed. "I remember the conversation. That one bit shouldn't have been enough."

He sighed, shrugging.

"This whole thing between you two has been a roller coaster. Maybe this is just another up."

I groaned, but didn't speak. He had something close to a point.

"You just have to survive a few days. Tomorrow is a group day, then Sunday as well."

"You know that this won't just end on Sunday," I grumbled.

"True," he leaned forward, patting my knee reassuringly, "but we can worry about that next week. For now, let's just focus on today."

"Fine," I agreed, "but just…"

I stumbled over my words again.

Luckily, Chul knew what I was getting at.

"Hey, I can always make up some technical interruption if you need me to. Not forever, but for five minutes at least."

I nodded. Standing up, I placed a hopefully not overly familiar hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you Chul," I squeezed his shoulder slightly, "seriously."

He nodded.

=====

I had hoped that Jiyong would be gone by the time I returned to my cabin. Or at least still dead asleep. Instead he sat up when I entered, pouting over my pillow at me.

I froze, just for a second. Thankfully, he seemed sleepy enough to have missed it.

"You left me alone," he croak-whined.

"I figured you could use the sleep," I shrugged. I sat on the edge of the bed and hauled my backpack from where I had stashed it on the little armchair yesterday.

His pout stayed in place as he shoved the pillow behind himself and lifted his arms towards me.

"Come back to me, my love."

I cringed at the endearment. It sounded hollow somehow.

"Luna?"

I looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyebrows were drawn together, and he appeared to be giving me a thorough looking over.

"Hmm?"

He didn't immediately answer. Instead, he sat up and leaned forward. Supporting himself on his knees and one hand, he reached forward and pushed the hair out of my face.

"Are you not feeling well? I'm sure I have medicine or something with me."

I shook my head, pulling away from his hand.

"No," I turned my attention back to my bag, "I already got something from Chul."

Jiyong crawled forward, invading the space next to me.

'What did he give you?"

I shrugged, still searching through my bag. "Just something for my headache. You know how it i- Ah there it is!"

I held my toothbrush aloft in triumph.

Jiyong smiled, presumably at my antics, but continued his questioning.

"But what specifically?"

"Why does it matter?" I retorted, moving towards the ensuite so I could finally brush my teeth. I laughed at Jiyong's expression, now looking extra concerned. "I doubt he'd try to drug me or something."

"Of course," he nodded slowly, "he'd have to be a psycho to do something like that."

He moved awkwardly, getting himself untangled from the bed so he could follow me.

"Still," he took up residence behind me now, sneaking a hand around my stomach as I brushed my teeth, "it might react poorly with that tea."

I rolled my eyes at him through the mirror. I felt crowded, but resisted the urge to push him away. Maybe it was the… was this a hangover? PMS? Regardless, there was an uncomfortable feeling lingering through my body that I couldn't help interpreting as danger.

Jiyong took my lack of rejection as encouragement. He hooked his chin on my shoulder and lifted his free hand to brush my hair back from my face.

"I want to make sure that you're safe, my love."

That was going to get real old, real fast.

I shrugged myself from his clutches, spitting and rinsing my mouth before speaking.

"It was just Taksen," I turned to face, fixing what I felt was the fakest smile I had ever worn onto my face, "I'm sure I'll be fine Ji."

=====

We had lunch on the boat, a vegetarian take on naengmyeon.

"You know," I broke a not quite awkward silence as we ate, "I used to hate soup."

Jiyong looked up from his dish, frowning slightly.

"I'm sure they could make something else."

"No," I shook my head, "this is fine. I just was against soup on principle."

Jiyong blinked, squinted, and finally placed his elbow onto the tabletop and his chin into his palm.

"On principle."

It wasn't exactly a question, but it was clear he wanted further information.

"Well," I lifted my spoon, observing its contents closely. After a moment, I downed the liquid before continuing. "Soup is different back home." I held the spoon up, now watching the way the sunlight reflected off its surface.

Jiyong patiently watched my antics.

"Mostly it just seemed like someone made a meal and then," I shrugged, "decided to put it in water."

Jiyong looked down at his own bowl, brows drawing together as he considered the food before him.

"How is that different than this?"

I shrugged again. "Soup here seems to be done on purpose."

His frown deepened for a moment. Then, after shaking his head, he burst out laughing.

"What?" I asked, unable to remain serious in the face of his outburst, "what's so funny?"

"I just," he shook his head again before leaning forward and resting his chin in his palm, "never know what you're going to say next."

A month ago - hell even a week ago - I would have expected that sentiment to be accompanied by a frown. Disapproval of what and how I choose to be. Now however…

He seemed to have forgotten his food, simply gazing at me with something like wonder writ across his face.

"Eat," I nodded towards his bowl.

His smile deepened. Shaking his head, his lips parted to speak.

"I-"

"Don't tell me you're full by watching me," I cut him off. "You need to eat."

He let out an abrupt laugh, but lifted his spoon regardless.

=====

I wasn't sure if it was exactly typical for yachts to pull up on Sindo. From what I could see, the boat that we were on was the only non-ferry visible. There was some discussion between pier staff, show staff, and even Jiyong himself at one point, before we were able to fully… park? I made a mental note to look up proper boating terminology.

Something about the way that Jiyong returned from the conversation sent a flag up in my mind. He looked sheepish, but happy - victorious, but a little shy. He had a bounce in his step that translated to his silly straw sun hat flopping slightly as he approached.

He looked like a dad on vacation that had just gotten a bargain.

"Is everything okay?" I asked as soon as he was close enough to talk to.

"Yes," he quickly answered. "I just have to, ah…" that slightly embarrassed look replaced his smile for a second.

"You didn't bribe them, did you?"

He laughed, but didn't answer. Not directly anyway.

"The manager's wife is a fan," he explained. "I just offered to sign a picture."

I squinted at him, trying to play up my disapproval.

"Jagi~," he stepped closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, "I got us a spot, right?"

I pursed my lips, letting out a "hmmph" noise.

"I did well," he wiggled my shoulders back and forth, teasing, "right jagiya?"

"I guess it's okay," I gave him a sidelong look, "as long as we're not breaking a law or anything."

A slightly confused look took over his features for a moment as he tilted his head.

"I don't think so," he murmured, "even if there is one, it will only be a fine."

I sighed deeply, remembering a phrase that my friends back home and I used to say pretty often: 'Punishable by a fine' just means 'legal for rich people.'

=====

We navigated renting some scooters, including two bigger ones that were more like golf carts for the staff and their gear, and headed out. It was already near noon when we had arrived, so we stopped in a small cafe for something to eat before heading towards Modo.

It was something like a break, but not really. Jiyong had suggested we share a scooter, but I had wanted a little bit of extra freedom.

"Think of the show," Jiyong pouted.

"I am," I countered. "Just imagine how fun it will be for the audience when I inevitably run off on my own and you have to chase me down."

I heard Chul snort out a laugh somewhere off camera at that.

"My love," Jiyong's pout deepened, "think of the way their hearts will flutter when you put your hands around my waist."

I shook my head, rolling my eyes for good measure.

"That's actually dangerous. If anything I'd have to grab your hips or shoulders," I shrugged. "Holding your waist messes with your center of balance."

The pout was gone. In its place was a blank stare, seasoned by a few blinks.

In the end, I allowed him to "convince" me. Truth be told, I was beginning to have a headache again, and I figured I might be better off if I let him "drive". I also begged another painkiller off Chul, who made a point of holding the back of his hand to my forehead and squinting at my eyes and hands.

"Do I pass the inspection?"

Chul's eyes narrowed, "for now. Here."

With that, I was handed a tablet, a bottle of water, and a helmet before settling in behind Jiyong on the little moped.

=====

The air on my face felt nice, doing a little bit to clear the ache in the center of my forehead. It also helped that most of what I could smell was salt, mud, and algae. I breathed deep, shutting my eyes to block any potential motion sickness from compounding the horrendously loud pounding of blood in my ears.

I was a little disappointed at missing most of the view while we rode. I had searched the island online when the plan was initially proposed and knew that I was surrounded by greenery and farms. I hoped I'd be able to see them on the way back.

At first, I was a little bitter about going to Modo with Jiyong. It was on my list, buried in my liked photos on my private Instagram. Somehow, I doubted Jiyong knew that though. Much more likely was the chance that he simply looked up day trips on the islands and things to do.

Not that that was a bad approach. I had simply been spoiled by Seunghyun and Daesung's attentiveness.

I allowed myself a moment of malcontent before convincing myself not to let petty details ruin Baemikkumi for me.

Getting an afternoon snack also helped. I excused myself to the bathroom after ordering, taking an extra moment to pat some cool water over my face and neck. The day was hot, extra humid due to being on the series of islets.

It also gave me a moment to respond to messages that I had been ignoring.

From: Hugeboy Any clarity on that mysterious situation you were in? σ(^_^;)? From: Hugeboy Ah… I know you're probably just busy but still it feels a bit… From: Hugeboy I want to call you From: Hugeboy But I don't want to be a bother From: Hugeboy I miss you ｡･(つд`｡)･｡ From: Hugeboy Maybe I should be embarrassed about saying that From: Hugeboy No! I don't care if it's embarrassing! From: Hugeboy I! Miss! You! ♡♡♡♡♡ (*T^T)

I couldn't help but to half smile, half pout, at his messages. Reading back over them I couldn't help but feel a little bad about not having responded. Still, I supposed I had a pretty good reason. At least on Sunday.

To: Hugeboy Would you believe me if I said I miss you too? To: Hugeboy I had a sort of… medical issue?? To: Hugeboy Nothing serious. Just stress. To: Hugeboy Honestly, I think I'm still recovering.

For perhaps the second time ever, he didn't instantly respond. Well, that's only fair. I checked my other messages.

From: Zico You know what I'm going to say, right? ㅋㅋㅋ From: Zico I think he's really lost it this time From: Zico Seriously… are you a witch or something? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

That last message had been accompanied by a blurry video of what appeared to be Mino. He sat with his phone in his hands, staring at it with an obvious pout on his lips. I couldn't truly make out what he was saying, but I could tell it was something like:

"... doesn't… nothing…"

A few seconds before the video ended, a new message came in from Zico.

From: Zico

I would ask why Mino just texted me asking for advice on playing it cool, but I think I already know the answer.

I snorted a laugh and quickly typed a reply.

To: Zico Why should he start now?

To: Hugeboy I like that you're embarrassing~~ ♡ To: Hugeboy Better to be embarrassing and real than to be cold and uncaring From: Hugeboy Fine! I miss you more than makes sense (*T^T) From: Hugeboy When can I see you? To: Hugeboy I don't know. I'm sorry. From: Hugeboy It's not your fault ＼(_ _) To: Hugeboy Still… To: Hugeboy I have to go. I'll message you again soon I promise.

With that, I clicked my phone back to locked, and headed back outside.

=====

Jiyong insisted we rehydrate, a set of iced teas mixed with fruit juice already on the table when I returned.

"Making sure to take care of me?" I teased him.

"I always take care of you."

At Jiyong's suggestion, plenty of photographs were taken. Primarily of me. I did offer a few times to take pictures of him, but he'd simply shake his head and say he had enough photos of him to last a lifetime.

That seemed both reasonable and a little unfair. Not to him. He was right. Nobody needed more photos of him. But it was unfair to put me in the spotlight with so little warning.

Once we were in the park, it was every few minutes with him. He'd point at something and ask me to pose next to it. As if I knew the first thing about posing.

I tried to push the negativity out of my mind. For years I had been the photographer for my friends. Ninety percent of the photos that existed of me were mirror selfies, or taken using a makeshift tripod and the timer function. I took a moment to be grateful for the influx of proof of life provided over the last few weeks.

Besides, the picture of me being held in giant metal hands did come out nicely.

=====

Just a short while later, Jiyong was sulking.

Well, not actually. He was playing it up for sympathy, scowling as the yacht pulled closer to the dock on the mainland. I pretended that I hadn't noticed.

"It's a shame," I said as casually as I could.

I was rewarded with shining puppy eyes from Jiyong.

"We didn't even get a chance to go into the ocean water this whole time."

Jiyong grimaced. Obviously, this was not what he had been hoping to hear. No doubt he would have liked for me to say I wished we could spend another night on the boat. Or perhaps that I didn't want to return to the house.

Truth be told, I was itching to get into the giant tub in my room. I couldn't wait to stretch out in a familiar bed again.

But the summer sun was still well above the horizon, so I was willing to bet that the approaching dock was not the end of the day.

=====

We ended our day at a bar masquerading as a barbecue restaurant. Nothing fancy, thank god. Just a little meat, a few vegetables, and a small gas fire to cook them over.

And soju.

Of course soju.

I contemplated the mushroom tipped shaft before me, pretending to ignore the shot that Jiyong had placed beside my plate.

"Come on," he whined slightly, meat tongs now back in hand. "Don't make me drink alone."

I sighed, biting the earthy brown cap off the skewer in my hand before turning to down the drink.

"That's my girl."

I made a point of rolling my eyes at his words. He just laughed and tossed back his own drink.

He's in a good mood. We had been in that weird confrontation for so long that I had forgotten about this version of him. Relaxed, happy, not mistaking jokes for attacks - this was the version of him I had fallen for in those early days.

"Hey."

I blinked, shaking my head slightly as I came back into the moment. The cup next to my plate was full again. I reached out to take it, but two fingers fell across the top to stop me. Looking up, I saw Jiyong watching me with that soft look he had been wearing for the last two days.

"Where'd you go?"

The seat I was in didn't really have a back to it, otherwise I would have leaned back. As it was, I supported myself with an elbow on the edge of the table.

"I was just thinking. About the beginning."

A moment of silence passed between us then. For me, it was reflective. For him… well…

He shook himself out of it and set the food aside so it didn't burn. After making sure everything was safely set, he sat down facing me. He shuffled to the edge of his seat and reached forward to grab the legs of mine to pull me closer.

"What?" It felt like a reasonable enough question.

"It can be like that again, jagiya."

He picked up my hand from the table, winding it into his own. His thumb brushed over my fingers for a moment before he pulled my palm to his cheek. Quickly, he pressed a kiss against my hand before securely holding it against his skin.

"I can make it like that again," he stared, an intensity that made my skin flush but also crawl.

"Ji," I tried to pull my hand away.

"No," he renewed his grip, pressing another kiss against my fingers before continuing, "I'll do whatever I need to do to make you realize that it should be me."

I experience an odd mix of reactions to that. My neck tensed, hairs prickling up off my skin as if his words had sent a cold breeze across my back. I felt goosebumps raise over my arms.

On the other hand, my stomach swooped and fluttered. A warmth spread down from my gut, part of my body clearly reacting well to the earnestness of his words.

"Just let me prove it to you this week."

=====

I silently wished that we had taken one of the company cars to the pier yesterday. Not necessarily one of the giant vans, but just something with another driver. A chaperone.

As we hadn't, I was stuck in Jiyong's car with him. Not that I thought he'd do anything too scandalous. There were still cameras in his car after all.

No, it was a more internal issue than that. With an external cause. That I was internally incapable of solving.

Jiyong's hand was on my thigh.

Which was fine. It was fine. It was a respectful enough distance between my knee and my hip. It was simply resting there, largely inactive save for a few swipes of his thumb over my skin. It was fine. I could deal with this.

Except for that gut churning warmth from before that was still sitting behind my waistband. Except for the tell-tale sensation of my body preparing itself for something that it was not going to get.

But it was nice. In a way.

I glanced at Jiyong, which may have been a mistake. I don't like to think of myself as being shallow but good lord the budding tension would be easier to prune back if he wasn't so fucking pretty.

=====

Finally we were back home, as much as that word meant anything anymore.

I was glad to be back in the house. I tried to remember where I was in my cycle. Had I last had my period during Seungri's week? Maybe it had been Daesung's? It wasn't totally out of the question that my hormones were simply amped up.

It usually wasn't this noticeable though. I was overtly aware of the wetness between my legs. Every step I took was accompanied by a naggingly persistent glide of self-lubricated flesh.

In a number of different situations, it would be titillating. In this one it was almost concerning.

"I'm going to head to bed," I was perhaps a bit curt with my words, but I was aching to get into the bathroom and clean myself up.

"Are you feeling okay?" Genuine concern filtered through Jiyong's words.

Maybe I wasn't doing as good of a job covering as I had thought.

"I'm fine," I cleared my throat. Doing my best not to meet his eye, I came up with a weak excuse. "I'm just tired from traveling and everything."

In the periphery of my vision, I was aware that he was nodding. I pretended to focus on putting my shoes away neatly.

"Jagi," his hand found my wrist, "I…"

I forced myself to meet his eye. He really was so fucking pretty.

I wasn't aware that my mouth had opened until I felt his thumb brush over my bottom lip. When had his hand reached my face?

Against my better judgment, my tongue dipped out - primarily to wet my lips, but incidentally lapping at his skin.

He even tasted pretty.

This close, I could see the blemishes underneath his makeup.

"Oh you guys are back."

Jiyong pulled away from me, scalded by embarrassment or annoyance.

Taeyang stood in the openway, in all the glory of what I was sure was one half of a matching couple's pajama set, holding a glass of water. His eyes shifted between the two of us. There may as well have been chemical formulas flying around his head with how hard he was staring at us.

Good lord I was glad to see him. His presence had been exactly the shock I needed to escape whatever was going on with me. Hormones, alcohol… whatever it was, I was glad for the distraction.

"I'll go first," I mumbled, carefully avoiding touching either of them as I moved.

=====

My body bounced with the force I had thrown myself at the mattress. The inspection I had given myself in the shower had confirmed what I already knew. I debated texting Daesung, weighing the chances of us somehow getting caught. Typically I'd have no problem staying quiet, but with how amped up I was… there was really no telling.

Though I had teased him about tying him to the bed. What better time to try it than ri-

My thoughts were cut off by a tapping at the glass doors. Scrambling for decency's sake, I retracted my hand that had been making its way between my legs of its own accord. I tightened my robe around myself before pulling the curtain aside just enough to see who was there.

I was greeted by raised eyebrows paired with one hand holding a bottle, and the other holding a pair of wine glasses. The eyebrows jumped comically. Laughing, I took a step back and unlocked the door to pull it open.

"I thought you might need to debrief."

I shrugged, making my way to the seat by the vanity.

"It's legitimately strange how well you know me sometimes."

Seunghyun just smiled as he toed off his shoes and slid the door shut behind him. After being prompted by a pointed nod from me, he made sure the curtains were back in place as well - a shield for our private conversations.

"I heard he took you on a boat," Seunghyun stated it like a fact, but I could tell he wanted confirmation.

I hummed, watching him uncork the bottle and pour us both a glass. His fingers were deft and swift. They moved with confidence through the series of motions.

"-by? Yah…"

I shook my head, pulling myself back to the moment.

"Sorry," I frowned, "what were you saying?"

He chuckled, holding a glass out towards me. I stood to take it, standing perhaps a little closer to him than was absolutely necessary.

He held his glass towards me. Raising my own, I lightly tapped it against his.

He gave me a pointed look.

"No," I said, "you should drink first oppa."

He raised an eyebrow at that, but he also raised his glass. After allowing him to take his time to taste the wine and swallow, I spoke up again.

"How is it?"

"Jammy," he said after considering his words carefully, "a little tart. Not bad."

I hummed.

He had to have known what I was doing. No way was I subtle about it.

He didn't stop me though.

I couldn't really make out such details that would lead to the descriptor of "jammy", but I could taste the remnants of sweetness and sourness well enough on his tongue.

After a moment I pulled away. Lifting my hand, I thumbed away an invisible droplet from his lips. The thumb was then placed against my own, my tongue coming out to taste it in a much more acceptable adaptation of the earlier moment with Jiyong.

Trained as they were on his face, it didn't escape my eyes the way Seunghyun's attention was locked onto the movement.

"Put that away before you cause trouble," his voice sounded strained when he spoke.

"Hmm…" I smiled up at him, "don't want to."

He took a moment to carefully place both of our glasses further back on the vanity. Straightening up afterwards, he took another moment to look me over. One of his arms looped around my back, pulling me close as his eyes ran over my face, neck, and assorted other spots of exposed skin.

Eventually, his eyes landed back on mine.

"How are you feeling?"

What a loaded question. I had already been fighting a losing battle against an unexpected wave of arousal when he showed up. I was a little embarrassed that all thoughts of Daesung had been pushed from my mind until this exact moment. That of course led to a brief detour into shame. That particular spiral was then cut short by how good Seunghyun's fingers felt on my skin when he reached up to brush my hair from my face.

His stern features were soft. It was a look that I kept seeing from him more and more often. A look I could see myself getting used to.

A look that simplified my answer.

"Good."

He nodded, serious as ever.

"A little more…" I tilted my head, thinking of how to describe it, "awake than I expected," I admitted.

There was a moment then. We both seemed to be waiting for something, but I didn't know what that might be.

It turned out to be my tongue. Once again, I slid it over my lips. More from nerves than anything else.

Seunghyun dropped his head slightly to press his lips against mine.

I hoped he wouldn't hold the sound I made against me. It was embarrassing enough just to have such a strong reaction to him. My head spun, thinking about the ups and downs of our dynamic over the last month. Or maybe it was from the kiss itself.

We had kissed before. Obviously. But this was different. This was a fight against a riptide, and I was more than willing to drown.

"Baby," Seunghyun was mumbling against my lips.

I groaned, annoyed at the attempted interruption.

"Baby."

He forced us apart this time. It was like he was determined to ruin the vibe.

"What?" I couldn't help the annoyed tone that slipped into my voice.

Confusion flashed over his face for a moment before he hardened his gaze.

"What happened?"

I blinked. I was not following his train of thought at all.

"What… you mean with Jiyong?"

He nodded, solemnly watching me.

"Nothing," I shrugged. "We went on a boat, we went to a sculpture park, we…"

I cut myself off. Did it really matter? A momentary lapse in judgment in a yacht hot tub with a man who was functionally my ex?

"Baby," softer this time, "you don't have to hide anything from me."

"We…" I huffed, then started again, "I…"

Seunghyun maneuvered the both of us, moving so he could sit at the vanity and pull me onto his lap.

"Take your time."

I let him pull me into him. Resting my head against his shoulder, reveling in the feeling of his hands soothing down my back. Breathing deeply, I could smell some faint cologne struggling to cover up that ever present tobacco scent that clung to him.

"It's stupid." I was pouting again, but trying not to let it color my voice too much. I'd much rather go back to the kissing than talk about how Jiyong could seemingly climb inside my skull at will.

"What is?"

"Me," I moved against him, getting my head into a more comfortable position. If that position also put me in closer reach of teasing his neck and ear… he didn't seem to notice, "probably."

"We both know that's not true," he laughed.

I didn't protest, but I didn't agree either. Instead, I simply sighed heavily, trying to sneak my lips onto where I could feel his pulse in his neck.

"Baby," he gently admonished me. His hands pulled me upright to meet his eyes again. "You know I'd love to keep going, but you also know this is a coping mechanism."

I rolled my eyes, "don't pretend you know me better than I know myself."

That got a reaction out of him.

His hand raised, tightly gripping my chin so there was no way I could look away again.

"Listen to me baby," his voice had gone deep with the intensity of his message, "I would have no issue fucking you until you couldn't walk, if that's what you truly wanted."

Another embarrassing sound eked its way up my throat and out from between my lips.

Seunghyun paused his lecture to kiss me, rougher than I had expected. He bit my lower lip, pulling a groan from me as he pulled back.

"However," he shook my chin slightly, demanding my attention raise from his lips to his eyes again, "I will only do so when I am one hundred percent certain that it is what you want and not just a distraction."

What was there for me to do besides blink? And after that, what option did I have but to start crying?

"Baby," he dropped his grip from my chin and tugged me against his body in a tight hug. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. I'm sorry baby. Please don't cry."

"I… I just don't understand…" I sobbed, embarrassment no longer a concern. "How…. He… Ji…"

"Deep breath baby," he crooned into my ear. He started rocking slightly, obviously going all out in his attempt to comfort me. "Breathe for me. You have all night to tell me what happened."

I'm sure all eloquence was lost as I tried to explain through unintelligible sobs and the deep breaths that Seunghyun would occasionally remind me to take, but eventually I was able to explain my concerns. At least to the point that Seunghyun eventually started telling me that I didn't need to explain anymore.

"It's okay, baby," his voice was low, quietly reassuring me, "I understand."

"The worst part is I don't even know why I care," I whined, "I just want him out of my head."

By now, we had made our way onto my bed. Seunghyun laid on his side, arms pulling me protectively into his chest while I had rambled out my complaints.

"Just being around him is like getting drunk," I mumbled. "I feel defenseless."

"You-"

A knock on the glass doors interrupted him. He frowned, looking down at me questioningly.

"Did you invite Daesung down?"

I shook my head, nerves twisting my gut.

"Maybe he want-"

My text tone interrupted me. Shuffling to free my hand from between Seunghyun's and my bodies, I turned to grab it from where I had dropped it on the mattress earlier.

From: Llyong Boho Awake?

I shut my eyes, holding my phone up for Seunghyun to see. I felt the soft vibration of another message coming in while he looked at the screen.

Seunghyun's jaw tightened. He took the phone from my hand and sat up.

"Don't…"

He leaned down to press a kiss against my forehead.

"I'm not going to message him. Just wait here for a moment, okay? I'll tell him you're sleeping."

I nodded, wondering why he looked so tense.

He stood up and ran his hands through his hair a few times. Back and forth, messing it up and then smoothing it back. After a second he undid the buttons of his shirt, all of them undone before he misbuttoned one near the middle. He paused for half a second. Nodding to himself, he then took his belt off. He let the leather strap land on my floor before he turned his attention back to me.

"Unlock your phone."

I pressed my thumb against the fingerprint reader and handed it over to him.

"Thank you baby. Pull the blanket over yourself, okay?"

I did as he asked, going as far as turning to face away from the sliding doors so Jiyong wouldn't see my face.

I heard the plastic rattling sound of the curtain runners, followed by the whooshing noise of the sliding door opening.

"What do you need?"

"What are you doing here?"

The crunching of gravel, followed by the whoosh of the door. I assumed Seunghyun had stepped outside.

It was a little disappointing to not be able to hear the conversation. However, I could appreciate not being drawn into it at all.

After maybe fifteen minutes, there was that whoosh yet again. I felt my body tense up.

"Baby?"

I relaxed, turning over to look up at Seunghyun. He gave me a small smile.

"He went back upstairs."

I nodded, "you didn't have to do that."

He placed my phone on the bedside table before unbuttoning his shirt again.

"I know, but I'd rather I deal with him than make you do it."

He moved as he spoke, draping his shirt over the seat by the vanity before turning back towards me. He nodded at the space next to me on the bed.

"Can I?"

Rather than answer, I simply opened my arms towards him.

His smile was wider this time, as he bent down to crawl up the mattress and over my body.

Supporting himself on his knees and forearms, he brushed his nose along my neck. It was followed by his lips pressing against my jaw.

"Hyun…" I sighed out his name as what had started as me baring more of my neck towards him turned into a stretch.

"Yes?" He asked, pulling away to watch me.

I traced my fingertips over his ribs and onto his back, pouting slightly. "Don't stop."

He moved, working one of his knees between mine and coming in for a kiss.

Just shy of my lips, he spoke again.

"I'm still not going to fuck you tonight."

I whined, digging my nails into his back to further express my annoyance.

He laughed, leaning onto his side slightly so he could run a hand down the side of my body.

"If you need me that badly," he paused to kiss my cheek lightly, "there are other things I can do."

His fingers paused, dipped just slightly under the waistband of my pajama shorts.