#sol writes

Contrary to popular belief, Truth or Dare doesn't stop being fun after middle school. If anything, with higher stakes and getting rid of the PG-13 limitations, the game only becomes more intense as you get older.

Or so that was how you explained it to your friends in hopes to convince them to play a few rounds instead of studying for your midterms. But hey, it worked.

You laugh and clap your hands as you watch Yunjin complete her dare. She's surprisingly good at juggling, if you ignore the two failed attempts splattered on the floor. Why did Ryujin have to suggest using eggs of all things is beyond you.

"Okay, okay!" Yunjin catches the last few eggs. "I'm done, my hands are covered in yolk. Ew!"

The other girls echo her cries as she runs off to the bathroom to clean it off.

"It's Y/N's turn!" Ryujin calls out. You playfully glare at her from your side, pretending as if you haven't been impatiently waiting for your turn since the last round.

You hear Yunjin agree from afar. She asks you the impending question: "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare."

"Ooh, I've got a good one~" Her sing-songy tone is never a good sign, but you're too giddy to care, even with the girls ooh-ing and ahh-ing at their own recognition of it.

When she finally comes back, her hands free from eggshells and yolk, all eyes are on her. She looks from side to side for dramatic effect. Yunjin leans in. So does everyone else. She opens her mouth as if she'll start to speak, but nothing comes out before she closes it again with a teasing smile. Everyone groans.

"Out with it!" You say, throwing your arms up for emphasis.

She laughs. "I dare you to prank call Lee Heeseung acting as if you're some girl he met at the party last Friday."

Your face drops.

The girls cheer.

"Oh my god!" You hear Yizhuo yell. "You're a genius!"

"I didn't even go, though," you protest.

Yunjin shrugs. "Makes it even better." Just as you're about to rebut, she raises a finger and interrupts. "Ah! And don't say you don't have his number 'cause I know you used to send him the notes when he missed class last semester." She holds up your phone tauntingly, and you can't help but wonder when she took it away from the speaker, where it was paired to your playlist.

Curse her and her impeccable memory.

"Urgh, fine!" You give in, extending your hand for your phone.

As you type away your passcode and scroll to find the phone app, you reluctantly punch in his name (simply saved as "Lee Heeseung (SNU)" — nothing crazy!) The girls giggle to themselves about the heartthrob since high school.

Everyone and their mother knows about Heeseung. Almost everyone and their mother has been with Heeseung. Yourself excluded, obviously. And, unfortunately for them, excluding most of the girls here, too.

Yizhuo had the grace to spend a night with him and “came back a woman”. (Her words.)

Now, she's scooting closer to you, leaning her ear near the phone you're bringing to your ear.

It rings. Ring!

Once. Ring!

Twice.

"What if he doesn't—"

"Hello," a groggy tone questions from the other side of the line.

The girls all fail to cover their squeals.

Heeseung makes a confused noise. "Um... Who is this?"

"Uh...." Your eyes widen. You didn't really think this far ahead, hoping deep down that he wouldn't pick up at all. Eyeing Yunjin, screaming "Help Me!" with your expression. "This is... Hana..."

"Hana?"

"Kang. Kang Hana," you clarified. "We met at the, uh, party last Friday. At Jay's."

There's a moment of silence through the phone. Then some shuffling noises from his side. You sit patiently waiting for his reaction.

"Kang Hana," he repeats slowly. You hum to him.

"Yeah, we had a good time together, didn't we?"

He pauses. "I guess? Can you remind me?"

You begin to tell a tale about your encounter, barely keeping track of the details, letting your imagination run wild, stopping to listen to Heeseung hum in hesitant confusion.

Kang Hana arrived last out of all guests, immediately running to the kitchen for her first drink of the night. Then, she found herself swaying to the music on the living room dance floor, where she met Lee Heeseung. He had his arms placed respectfully on her hips, letting her guide his moves. He whispered that they should get out of there. She agreed.

They spent an hour or two engaging in conversation about anything and everything on the front patio, ignoring the smokers around the corner.

Hana not only arrived late, but also had to leave early. And so, she left Heeseung stranded, left to drink his grief away in hopes of forgetting all about her.

Yizhuo leans a little too far, enjoying the story too much, her head knocking over your hand, making you both tip to the side. You let out a squeal into the phone.

"Woah!" Heeseung yelps, pulling his phone away from his ear. Or you suppose, hearing his voice fade a little in the distance. With the phone away from him, it's able to pick up on the surrounding sounds better, and you realize he isn't alone either.

"Who is it?" You hear from the phone. The voice sounds familiar and you can almost make it out. Must either be Sunghoon or Jay, his best friends, you assume.

Heeseung doesn't miss a beat before responding, "Y/N."

Your heart does a flip. Yunjin's eyes widen. Ryujin chokes on the juice box she'd been sipping on. Yizhuo is still lying on the floor, only her mouth is significantly more agape.

"You knew it was me?"

He chuckled. "Obviously," he says matter of factly. Heat rises to your cheeks. "Took me a second, I'm a little tipsy, haha."

"Oh." Your eyes dart to the girls again. "Am I interrupting?"

"You're never a bother, babe."

Babe? "Huh," you let out unintentionally.

The girls furrow their brows one by one. Although they probably can't hear every word, they can clearly hear the weird turn this conversation has taken.

"Are you with the girls?"

You shake your head in confusion. "Um, yeah, I am." You're still trying to figure out what he meant by the pet name.

"I don't want to keep you if you're having fun." The smile on his face is clear as day in his flirty tone. "Text me later though, okay?"

"Okay?" Slowly, you pull the phone down and end the call. The second it hits your lap, it buzzes again.

Ping! New message!

이희승 (SNU) Kang Hana? 23:04

"What was that about?" Ryujin asks.

You don't respond yet. Focusing on the typing bubbles at the bottom of yours and Heeseung's no-longer-blank messenger.

이희승 (SNU) ik you weren't at Jay's last week 23:04

ME and i know you don't call random people 'babe' ?? 23:05 

이희승 (SNU) can i call you later? 23:05

ME i wasn't lying when i said i'm with my friends 23:05

ME tomorrow? 23:06

이희승 (SNU) let's meet up at the café on campus 23:07

"Hello, hello, Earth to Y/N?" Your head snaps up as you click off your phone. Yunjin waves her hand dramatically across your face to catch your attention. Ironically, it works. "You're still in there? Or did Hana take over?”

You blink up at her, then offer a small smile. “Sorry, that was weird,” you laugh. They all look at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to explain or give more details, but you’re not sure what to give them. “Alright, who’s next?”

You manage to drift the topic away from Heeseung and Kang Hana’s encounter. Yizhuo nearly fails her own dare, but succeeds in getting the neighbours number. After Ryujin answers her Truth (”If you had to kiss any of the girls in this room, who would it be?” “Well, I already have, but I’d say Y/N.”), you all decide to call it a night.

Ryujin and Yizhuo head out together; their rooms in the same dorm-building across the road. Meanwhile Yunjin begs to stay the night, opting to sleep on the floor because she can’t be bothered to pay for a cab ride to her apartment off campus.

Your thoughts keep coming back to Heeseung calling you babe, for some reason. Rubbing at your cheeks to snap yourself out of it, you sigh when you realize that it doesn’t do anything to help the blush that spreads further up your cheekbones to the tips of your ears the more you think about him.

Monday mornings have a bad reputation, and you completely understand why.

The sunlight creeps through a slip in your curtains and shines right in your eyes as you startle awake from a dream starring your party-animal alias and the campus heartthrob. Checking the time, you groan as the bright numbers ‘06:27’ glare back at you.

Your promise to a rendez-vous last night pushes you up and out of bed. You carefully side-step to not wake Yunjin, who’s still sprawled out on the floor.

You grab yourself some cereal and a cold glass of orange juice to fuel yourself before hopping into the shower. When you get out, it’s 6:44, a minute before your alarm rings loudly. You’re convinced everyone on this floor can hear it, but luckily you haven't gotten any complaints thus far.

Yunjin stirs finally. “Dude…”

“Wakey wakey, Sunshine,” you tell her, standing above her with a cheesy smile. “I have cereal and oatmeal.”

She rubs at her eyes, still laced with tiredness. “I’ll just grab something at the café after classes. I should get going, anyway.”

It doesn't take long for Yunjin to get dressed and leave the room promptly. She’s spent so many nights at your dorm that you took the time to clear up some space in the drawer for her stuff so she doesn’t need to rush out before even the sun’s awake.

When you’re left alone in your room, you pull out your phone again, the screen already opening into the chat room you visited last night.

ME what time do your classes end? just wanna know when i should get to the café 06:59

You wait. And wait. And wait some more for his response. You notice he hasn't even been online since you sent your message and decide to give him some more time.

Although he definitely has classes today, you assume, he might not be as much of an early riser like yourself.

In the meantime, you busy yourself with getting ready for your own classes. You pack your bag with all its supplies, checking your phone every so often, hoping to see it light up with a notification.

Ping!

All you can think is, “Finally,” but unfortunately when you pick it up, the notification reads: @jenaissante has made a new post!

“What am I doing?” you ask yourself out loud.

Since when do you sit and stare at your phone in hopes that some guy is going to answer you? How embarrassing.

You shake it off, grab your bag, and head out to your first class.

Walking down the comfortably silent hallways of your dorm building makes you think that out of everyone, you might be the only one awake. However, you stand corrected as you’re greeted with a door almost slamming you in the face.

Coincidentally, as the owner of said door says, “I’m so sorry!” and you respond, “It’s okay! I’m okay!” your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Nearly making your bag topple out of your hands as you reach for it, your shoulders relax when you see who the message is from:

이희승 (SNU) i hate mondays 07:33

You bid your goodbyes to the door-slammer.

ME good morning to you too 07:33 

이희승 (SNU) 😑😑 07:34

이희승 (SNU) i don’t have classes today. when do yours end? 07:34

ME no classes and yet you're awake so early? i'm impressed lee heeseung 07:36

ME i have my 8AM that ends at 10, then a three hour gap until my next class 07:36

이희승 (SNU) oof three hours 07:36

ME i’m on campus so it's not too bad tbh 07:37

이희승 (SNU) 10 o’clock it is? 07:39

ME sounds good 07:40

You shut off your phone and look up to realize you've made it to the building.

You find it weird how easily you’re already getting distracted by Heeseung, even though you’ve barely interacted, much less talked in person since last semester when you shared a class.

Even then, neither of you ran in the same groups, so your conversations were very limited to assignments and bad-talking the professor.

Of course, you’ve heard a lot about him, but none of it ever involved you. At most Yizhuo was being very descriptive about her night with him, though even then—especially then—you didn't pay it or him much attention.

Deciding to push him out of your mind entirely, you pull out your laptop and set up your notes, waiting for the professor to arrive and start class.

After two long hours, you’re dismissed from class. You tell your professor goodbye and head for the door, but come to a stop when you see a familiar figure leaning against the glass on the other side. Taking quicker steps to come around, you meet face to face with Lee Heeseung.

“Hi,” he says calmly.

“What are you doing here?”

His smile falters. “I came to pick you up.”

Your eyes dart to both sides of the hallway, as if waiting for Yunjin or someone to pop out. “How did you know this is where my class is?”

For the first time in your life, you watch Heeseung lose his cool composure. He stumbles over his words before clarifying, “I asked around.”

You try not to think too hard on it, eyeing him suspiciously before humming. His shoulders relax and he claps his hands together before pivoting toward the stairwell.

“Shall we?” He turns to you, extending his arms as if he’s some royal guard leading the crown princess into a carriage.

“Yes, we shall.” You play along because what the heck. And his smile is worth it.

The two of you make your way down to the café just across campus, not really talking on your way there, but staying close. It’s not as if some sort of secret operation is going down, so neither of you make a move to act like you don't know each other.

Come to think of it, you really don't know what's the purpose of all the theatrics. He even opens the door for you when you get there. Has he always been a gentleman?

From what you’ve heard, Heeseung is a player through and through. Typical, textbook heartthrob who makes people fall for him, toys around with that idea, and then leaves them to pick themselves up. Or, he’ll spend one magical night with a random hookup he meets at one of the million parties his rich friends throw every weekend, only to leave them in the dirt in the morning.

(Literally. Stories went around about this one girl he hooked up with outside. She woke up in Sunghoon’s backyard with only her bra and panties on. Or so you’ve heard.)

He leads you to the counter where the barista takes your order quickly. Just as you're about to reach into your bag for your wallet, Heeseung waves his hand in front of you. “Don’t worry about it,” he says before taking out his card and paying before you can reply.

“Thanks.” You try to come up with something better, but run short. “I’ll pay next time,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“Next time,” he says with an unreadable tone.

You want to reply, but nothing comes out. Instead, your eyes drift back to the barista. You watch him prepare your drinks and you silently pray that he goes faster so you can move on.

Luckily, he listens. “Alright, one iced caffe latte with vanilla syrup, and one dark chocolate mocha for the couple.” The man makes a dramatic turn with the drinks, adding a theatrical wave of his hand to you two.

“Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you,” Heeseung replies with a smile. He takes a hold of both drinks and motions for you to lead him to a table.

And so you do.

“So,” he says as he sits down. “Kang Hana—” A wink. Your drink is suddenly very interesting. “—I have a proposal for you.”

“Proposal,” you question, raising your cup along with your brow. You take a sip and set it back down. “Go on.”

He takes his own sip. For a moment, you watch him appreciate the taste. He closes his eyes for a fraction of a second in satisfaction, traces of the drink left on his lips. It takes everything in you not to reach over and wipe it yourself. So, you hand him a napkin.

He thanks you before proceeding. “Okay, fine, it's more of an ask rather than a proposal because you won’t technically—” He adds air quotes. “—be gaining anything out of this.”

Now you’re very curious. You let him speak.

“There’s this girl…” he starts. His eyes drift away to the other tables, almost trying to deduce if anyone would want to eavesdrop and spread gossip of what he says next. “I really like her.”

Oh god. You’ve heard this before. Usually it only happens by boy best friends, but basically complete strangers work too, you guess. You prepare yourself.

“And, I just don’t know how to tell her—”

“Listen, Heeseung,” you cut him off. “We barely know each other. I don’t think you’re really thinking this through. How can you even trust your feelings when you barely know me?”

He blinks at you. “What?”

Your heart drops. “You’re not confessing to me.”

Heeseung lets out a short breathy laugh. He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and answers. “No… Not exactly.”

“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.” You let your head drop into the palms of your hands, but when you feel his hand on your arm, you snap your head up.

He rapidly retracts his hand of reassurance and lets it float above your arm for a second. “No, no, that’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed,” he assures you, only with his hand now in his lap. “I’m actually a little embarrassed about what I’m trying to ask you—If you’re up for it!”

“Can’t be more embarrassing than I feel right now,” you reply between small sips of your drink.

“Can we date? Wait, this isn't a confession, I meant like can we fake date? Like date, but not actually date. Not that that would be an awful thing to do! I just like this girl and…” His eyes are comically large as he rambles the same reformulated question. The embarrassment slips away as you watch his cheeks redden. “If you’re comfortable,” he finishes more quietly.

You take a moment, both to see if he’s really done, but also to consider your options. “Why?”

“Right.” He nods. “So, as I was saying… There’s this girl I like, and I want to get closer to her and ask her out, but we’ve talked before and she hates that I’m—” More air quotes. “—A player.”

You raise your brow at his words. “Put down the air quotes, then we’ll be on the same page.”

He rolls his eyes imperturbably. “You know what I mean…”

“How would fake dating help you start actually dating? Sounds counterproductive ‘cause doesn't that just make you unavailable?”

“I want to prove to her that I’m more than just—” He waves his arms around to search for the word. “—more than just some guy that goes from girl to girl as if nothing.”

You nod. “But… Isn’t this, kinda, lying? Since you haven't actually been in a long term relationship.”

“I mean, yeah, if you think about it like that.” He takes a sip of his drink, and when his lips part from the straw, you notice he bite it as he drank. You shake your head. “I’m just showing her that I’m capable of being in a long term relationship. I’m a serious guy looking for something serious.”

The snort you let out is entirely accidental. He looks faux-offended as he wipes off the drops of your drink that fell out of your cup. “Sorry,” you say, also wiping your arm. “You’re a serious guy. For sure, for sure.”

“I am,” he protests. “I take things very seriously. Like this rendez-vous. I’m normally still in bed at this time.”

This catches your attention. “Wait, why did you get up so early though? We didn't have a set time ready, you could've slept in.”

He shrugs timidly. “I knew you mostly take morning classes, so I wanted to be up when you were…” His sentence goes quieter by the end of it, with no help from him reaching for another sip of his drink, which is practically empty at this point, so the tension in the air only grows thicker with the ear-piercing sounds of him drinking air through a straw.

“Oh,” you say slowly. “I stand corrected.”

He nods.

You bite your lip out of habit. “So, shouldn't we discuss the, like, rules to this… Scheme?”

“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” He seems genuinely surprised. And cutely excited.

“Yeah,” you shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “What’s there to lose, I guess. But—” You raise a hand. “We need to figure out these ground rules and I need to get something out of this.”

He agrees easily. And you settle on asking him to put in a good word to one of his friends, Jay, who happens to be the son of the man who owns one of the most respected law firms in the country—you want in on it.

“So, you’re going to be a lawyer?”

Heat rises to your cheeks bashfully. “Yeah, it’s always been my passion.”

Heeseung’s eyes widen in astonishment. “Does that mean I should be more careful with how we set this up? Should we sign a contract to make it official?”

You laugh. “Do you have a printer? We could write one up if you want.”

He plays along with the joke, which eventually leads to him opening his notes app and writing down the rules you settle on together:

You cannot tell ANYONE that this is a set-up. If [REDACTED] finds out it’s a lie, how is Heeseung supposed to find love 💔

Stick to the same story: We met last semester and have been keeping it lowkey. We got together during the break.

Hang out in public at least twice a week. (Heeseung will make plans to make sure his crush will see them.)

Hand holding is a must while out together.

No kissing. Not on the cheek, and not on the lips.

Y/N has to attend all some do you want to make a good impression or not FINE all of Jay’s parties. 

Fake relationship must last AT LEAST two months. Further discussion of whether or not the (FAKE) relationship continues will take place then.

“Now…”

“What’s wrong?”

You watch Heeseung look from right to left, reaching down into his pockets for something, but he comes up with nothing. “How are you going to sign it?”

As unexpected as it is, you have to laugh. “Here, let me,” you respond between laughs, reaching out for his phone, which he hands you swiftly.

At the bottom of the page, you add:

I, Y/N L/N, accept these terms and conditions.

“Your turn.”

And he does the same with his own name.

I, Lee Heeseung, accept these terms and conditions.

“Perfect, so it’s settled.” He claps unceremoniously. “Here’s to the start of Kang Hana and Lee Heeseung’s fake relationship.”

He raises his cup toward you, and you get the memo to clink! your own against his. It’s silly considering they’re plastic cups that make nothing but a wsh! sound when bumped together, but the sentiment is there.

You spend a few more minutes sitting together in silence as you finish your drink.

You’re not sure why Heeseung hasn't left yet. Your business together is done for now, and he’s long finished with his own drink. You decide, however, that you’re glad he stayed.

As you’re stuck in thought, you don't notice that you're staring. You don't see the sly smile that creeps on his lips. And you certainly don't realize Yunjin is watching this scene go down from behind the window.

The front door’s bell snaps you out of your trance, when you finally feel the eye contact you're making with Heeseung. You pull your eyes away shyly, sipping on your drink until it bottoms out.

Unbeknownst to you, Yunjin makes her over to you and Heeseung with a confused expression painted over her features.

“Y/N,” she says. Your eyes widen at your friend leaning over the table to look at the two of you. “What’s going on here?” She teasingly points between you and Heeseung, wiggling her eyebrows all-knowingly.

Suddenly, you forget all your words.

Luckily, Heeseung smoothly takes the lead, already playing his role. “We’re on a date.”

This takes Yunjin by surprise, if her gasp paired with widened eyes says anything. “A date?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing out the syllable. He looks at you with telling eyes, as if asking if you want to add on. You slightly shake your head only for him to see. “We were actually just finishing up. Right?”

Your cue. “Right, yeah.” You clear your throat awkwardly.

Yunjin raises her hands defensively. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt any more than I already have… So, you two have fun….” She leans over to whisper into your ear. Heeseung raises a brow from his side, but turns away to pretend he isn’t listening to it. “You’ll have to tell me all about this later.”

She bids you goodbye and makes her way to the counter, making no effort in acting as if she’s not staring at your table, watching your every move, as if to assess the situation.

Your hand comes up to the side of your face to subtly cover your mouth from her prying eyes. “We should really get out of here.”

Heeseung nods. “Slowly, we don’t want her to think anything.”

“Is it really so important to keep it from my best friend, though?”

“Yes!” Heeseung says in a whisper-yell. He smiles over to Yunjin who’s blissfully unaware of his outburst, probably thinking the two of you are joking around. Turning back to you, his voice lowers. “We can’t let anyone know the truth, not right now.”

You wonder what you’re getting yourself into now that it’s in play.

He ends up walking you back to your dorm, making his way into the building and all the way to your floor, walking you to your door, even after you insist he doesn’t have to. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make sure you got back safely?”

“Fake-boyfriend,” you point out.

He nods. “Fake.”

While opening the door, you have a weird urge to ask if he wants to stay for a little. You brush off the feeling and turn back to him. “See you…” You stray, not really sure when you’ll see each other.

“Tomorrow,” he finishes. “For our first official date. Fake date.”

You nod your head, and that’s it. He walks backward into the hall, waving to you, before he turns to watch where he’s going. You only wave back when his back is turned.

Too caught up in whatever the hell you’ve agreed on, you spend the rest of the day burying yourself in studies. Midterms are around the corner, so may as well get some work done now. You also can’t bear to spend another minute with Heeseung’s stupidly pretty face, and smile, and everything stuck in your head.

Throughout the afternoon, then into the evening, your phone buzzes over and over again. You don’t even bother checking in fear that it’s Heeseung.

When you head off to bed, you quickly scroll away from your notifications and open Yunjin’s chat, where you see she’s been spamming you pretty much until you passed out. You note the time and feel the relief wash over you as you realize she must already be asleep by now. You start typing away.

ME i’ll tell you everything tmrw 01:47

ME meet me at the quad in the morning 01:47

As opposed to Monday mornings, Tuesdays have a different, much more optimistic air. It’s as if everyone’s realized that maybe this week won’t be so bad, so might as well put on a smile before heading to classes.

You don’t have early classes today, so you head down to the quad as promised, a knot forming in your stomach on your way.

There’s nothing you hate more than keeping things from your friends, especially Yunjin. Trust is something you really value in your friendship, as you’re both very open with each other, this feels like breaking it, even though it isn’t necessarily a bad lie to tell.

Taking a deep breath, you convince yourself that it’s for a good cause and she’ll understand once you tell her the truth.

You’re surprised not only by the fact that Yunjin is already sitting at one of the tables, wide awake and ready to hear your tale, but also the fact that she is with company: Yizhuo and Ryujin, respectively.

“Well, well, well,” she says with jokingly menacing crossed arms. She adds to the character a dubious expression. “What do we have here? Lee Heeseung’s girlfriend?”

Yizhuo laughs. “Are you serious? When were you going to tell us?”

From the other side of the table, Ryujin adds on. “Yeah, this seems like a pretty big deal!”

You sit down next to Ryujin, facing Yunjin’s excitedly curious eyes. She leans over the table and grabs your hands. “Tell. Us. Everything,” she enunciates every word for emphasis.

“Um,” you start oh-so confidently. You think back to the contract you “signed” and the storyline you decided with Heeseung. “I’ve been, kinda, seeing Heeseung since October—”

“October!?” Yizhuo yells. “Why’ve you been keeping this from us?!”

“We wanted to keep it lowkey before we decided if we were really serious about this.” The lies slip off your tongue easily, but they leave a bitter aftertaste. “I was talking with him about telling you guys, at least, right when Yunjin walked in on us.”

Ryujin raises a brow. “Walked in on you? Were you…?”

You slap her arm playfully. “Nothing like that, nothing like that! I meant at the café yesterday.”

“We’ve never even seen you two together… How lowkey were you keeping it?”

Yunjin looks at you expectantly. You avoid direct eye contact, afraid she’d be able to see the truth through your eyes. “We text a lot and facetime pretty much every night,” you explain, hoping it’s convincing. “And he’d sometimes come over, but we always made sure none of you would find out.” You make sure to slip in an apology at the end of the statement.

Yizhuo’s the one to wave her arm and deny your apology. “Girl, you got yourself a man, how could we be mad at you?” Her eyes widen in realization. “The prank call, oh my God!”

“Yeah, that took some explaining… But he thought Kang Hana was pretty funny.”

“Speak of the devil,” Yunjin teases, nodding her head behind you.

You turn around and lo and behold is Lee Heeseung himself, followed by Park Sunghoon and Park Jay. If this were a 90s romcom scene, their walk would be in slowmo, the camera would pan to girls and boys fanning themselves as they walk by, some would be fainting in their path. Sunghoon would have to step over someone’s unconscious body, Jay would pick a rose from the bush and hand it to one of his followers and they would blush until their whole face is as red as a tomato.

Instead, they’re walking at a regular pace, but you notice the way seems to run through their hair perfectly. That’s what you get when you’re jaw-droppingly attractive, you think. And then you furrow your brows at your thoughts.

When the boys get closer, Heeseung smiles. “Hi, you.”

“Hi,” you say in return. Your heart beats faster.

“So,” Jay, the one on his left, says. “You’re Y/N.”

You nod. “Nice to meet you—”

“Y’know, it’s funny ‘cause Heeseung never mentioned you?” The question throws you off, more than the smile he has plastered on his face. “Keeping it hidden from us like we’re Dispatch, or something.”

Heeseung places his hand on Jay’s shoulder, taking the lead. He sends you a reassuring look before speaking. “It was my idea, mostly,” he explains. “Let’s not take it out on my girl.”

My girl. You smile shyly.

Addressing your friends, Heeseung smiles politely. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“You too,” Ryujin says.

“You better be treating her right,” Yunjin says teasingly, but with a touch of seriousness, if you know her right.

Heeseung raises his arms defensively. “She’s the one to decide on that front.”

You laugh. He’s really good at this. “Don’t worry guys, he’s been good to me.”

The two of you share a moment in silence, just watching each other. Heeseung’s the first to break it, not necessarily looking away, but ending your silent conversation. “I take it you dressed for our date, right?”

You blink at him in confusion. “Where are we going?”

“So you really didn't see my text?” He pouts. You’re almost convinced he means it. Wow, I’m going to have to step up my game.

“Sorry, I was really busy studying, I shut off my phone for the day after you left.”

He tuts at you jokingly. “Well, I guess it’ll have to be a surprise.” He extends his arm and offers you his hand. Automatically, you take a hold of it, letting him pull you up in the process. Heeseung turns to your friends and smiles politely. “Again, it was nice to officially meet you all, I’ve heard so much. And—” Facing his friends, he says: “I’ll text you later.”

Then, you’re off, holding hands as he leads you to the parking lot.

The car ride isn’t too long, luckily. You find yourself anticipating what Heeseung has planned, only for you to crush that anticipation when you remember what this is all for.

Her, not you.

Although, you still don’t know who she is.

“Will you ever tell me who this girl is?” you ask as he takes another turn, arriving in a parking lot. Finally in view, you realize you’re at Plus One Games as you watch the big, bold glowing sign. “The arcade?”

“She works here,” he says, promptly ignoring your first question. He pops the keys out of the ignition and turns to you. “Are you ready?”

You hum and the two of you make your way to the comically large front doors. He holds it open, and you thank him as you walk past him, staring in awe at the decor.

Plus One Games is known for its grandeur in the gaming world. You didn’t grow up in these areas, but you’ve heard all about it. It’s expensive and you wonder how Heeseung is able to afford it—He must really like this girl.

The lobby is decorated like a gameboard, the stands where the employees greet the customers resembling game pieces, meanwhile there are signs pointing in every direction to where you may want to go, which look like signs straight out of a Super Mario Bros game.

Unbeknownst to you, you begin to wander while you’re looking at the set-up of the entrance, entranced by the level and precision of the design. Heeseung notices, however, and grabs ahold of your hand, spinning you on your heels and leading you to the cloakroom.

“Can’t let you get lost,” he teases, his head nodding to your hand in his which he raises to eye level.

You flush in your spot, unable to get yourself to pull your hand away.

After depositing your coats and changing into the shoes the staff hand the two of you by the door, you’re quick to let Heeseung guide you through the games and stations. He clearly has a map set up in his mind by the way he easily glides through the place, your hand still tightly in his hold.

He brings the both of you to the bumper cars first, wearing a cheeky grin as he handsomely gestures for you to step into the rink before him. To play along, you bow gratefully like an heiress guided by her guard. He laughs, placing a hand by your lower back to help direct you.

How could someone forget how fun bumper cars are? Because now you’re reminded of the joys of ramming your rubber-ringed play car into the people around you. Luckily, it’s not too crowded, so you have plenty of room to strategically avoid Heeseung’s attempts to knock you over, only to turn around and get him instead.

You’re full of laughter, and so is he. In fact, his face is completely red and you can only assume that yours is a similar shade.

Your laughter doesn’t even die down when the dispiriting buzzer sounds in the mini-arena, prompting the cars to stop in their place and the employee to safely instruct you and the other customers on how to get out.

“So, where to next?” Your smile transcends into your words, but you don’t care enough to be self-conscious about it.

Heeseung pretends to be in deep thought, plastering a dramatic pout of curiosity. “Where to… Where to…” he repeats. He lifts a finger in the air in perfect timing with the music blaring through the speakers above. You laugh at the movement. “Let’s try to win some prizes, hm?”

You assume this is probably some kind of way for him to say that the girl he likes is working the counter. Either way, you agree.

“Ice ball,” he suggests.

“I’ll have you know—” You flick your hair behind your shoulder for character. “—I’m kind of a pro at this.”

He raises his brow. “Oh, are you?”

Instead of responding, you grab the keycard and swipe it across the gamepad, watching as the game’s sign lights up as it starts up. Balls roll out from the dispenser and you grab your first one. You pretend to give it a kiss before rolling it up.

It does not go on.

Heeseung laughs.

You clear your throat and try again. The second does not go in.

Nor does the third. Or the fourth.

“Maybe I should try,” Heeseung proposes playfully.

“Fine,” you grumble, though not seriously. You go on to say he has no shot, the game is rigged and—

His first try goes in.

And his second. Then his third.

The game rings “Winner! Winner!” and tickets begin pouring out of the gamepad.

Heeseung ends up beating you in every game you play, always winning a ridiculous amount of tickets or a silly prize that comes with it. Pinball, mini-basketball, Spin-It-To-Win-It, you name it. He even beats the claw machine which is famously rigged in these kinds of places. You suggested it just to see Heeseung lose, yet here he is flaunting his little stuffed turtle he pulled out of it.

He waves the turtle in your face and you swat it away from you. “Aw, c’mon, Y/N, you don’t want Mr. Turtle?”

“You named him Mr. Turtle,” you deadpan.

He smiles cheekily. “It’s a fitting name.” He then takes your hand by the wrist, flipping it over so your open palm faces upward. Gently, Heeseung places Mr. Turtle into your hand, closing your fingers around it. “Here, you can have him.”

As much as you want to keep up your stingy role of a sore loser and throw it back at him, you shyly thank Heeseung for the gesture and place Mr. Turtle comfortably against your bag, so he can look out into the world without you needing to worry about him falling off because he’s safely attached to the strap.

After a match of laser tag—which you end up winning with Heeseung because you were against another couple—a couple of PEOPLE!—and then racing up to the top of the rock climbing wall, you grab a couple slices of pizza together and call it a day.

The pizza is greasy and frankly a little gross, you’re convinced it’s leftovers from yesterday, but it’s just what you need.

Heeseung comes back to the table with two bottles of pop. “Which one?” He raises both for you to see your options. You point to the red one, probably some off-brand strawberry or raspberry flavoured soda, and he passes it to you.

Chugging down the mystery drink, you find yourself content with the day's events.

When you get to the car, Heeseung holds the door open for you once again. You thank him quietly, getting in at the same time. You force your head down to stop yourself from watching as he makes his way around to his side.

It’s silent for a moment as he turns on the ignition and pulls out of the parking spot. The way he places his hand against the back of your seat, his arm in full view, makes your heart stutter. You take a second to compose yourself.

“So.” You look up at Heeseung with telling eyes and a teasing smile. “Did you see her?”

His mouth opens in a mute ‘ah,’ but he shakes his head, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. “I guess she wasn’t working today.”

And honestly, you can’t even be mad about it because it went so well. You tell yourself this is just a stepping stone in the fake relationship. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

He drives you back to campus and follows you all the way to the building before you tell him he doesn’t need to come up with you. Although he tries to push it, it’s hard to ignore how tired he is from the way he drawls.

As you walk back into your dorm, you’re greeted with your phone buzzing to infinity with messages from the girls’ group chat. You laugh at their bickering as they wait for your updates and you almost opt to stay silent to see how far it goes.

The following days go on similarly. Between hanging out with your friends, attending classes and studying for midterms, you’re going out on dates with Heeseung. Fake dates, but you soon learn he’s a really good actor.

Then you update the girls on the happenings of the date, steadily avoiding the parts hinting at your deal.

Your first date following the arcade is at the library. At first, you don’t see how Heeseung would consider this a date, until he shows up at your dorm with roses and chocolates. “Bring these with you,” he says. “She should be studying there for another hour, or two if she’s really into it.”

You abstain from commenting on the fact that if she’s “really into it,” is he even sure she’ll notice either of you, because you’re in need for a good study session with a friend, and as much as you love your friends, they have a hard time focusing when you’re all together.

It’s nice. Heeseung is as hard of a worker as you remember from the previous semester. Every now and then, you’ll look up and find his eyebrows furrowed at the paper in front of him, so you ask to help him out if you can. He does the same to you, you realize. As you look down at your notes, biting your lip at the same phrase you’ve been staring at for a while now, Heeseung taps the table right in front of your book with his pencil. “Need any help?”

You only remember once he brings you back to your dorm that you never asked about the girl. You’re not even sure if she was there since he didn’t say anything.

Yizhuo is offended that you find your girls-only study sessions unhelpful. Ryujin playfully slaps her shoulder.

For another date, he takes you to the movies.

“And this is helpful… how exactly?”

He shrugs and raises a hand to sheepishly scratch the back of his neck. “I may have told her I wanted to see the movie. And then I may have panicked buying them in front of her, I don’t want to risk her seeing me bring someone else when I said I’d bring you.”

“This could’ve been your chance to invite her to the movies!”

“And make her think I’m a cheater?” He shakes his head twice. “Besides, this is what we’re fake dating for. You and I can still go as fake-boyfriend and fake-girlfriend, if you don’t mind.”

Of course you don’t mind.

The movie is okay. It’s not really your style, nor is it Heeseung’s, if his distasteful grimace as he’s walking out of the cinema says anything.

“You didn’t like it,” you tease with fake concern.

He looks like a deer caught in headlights. “No,” he defends. He even raises his hands to wave them around as he searches the air for an explanation. “It was—You know—When they—Right?”

You laugh and place your hand on his shoulder. “I’m kidding. I didn’t really like it either.”

Heeseung places his own hand on top of yours and you feel your heart stutter. In a panicked moment, you try to rip your hand away, but it gets caught in his shirt, so you have to awkwardly pull it out from underneath.

Yunjin asks you about the movie itself, and you can’t seem to remember much about it besides Heeseung’s face at the end of it.

One of your favourite—fake—dates with Heeseung is when he takes you rollerblading. (You never ask how this is related to the girl he’s trying to impress. What? You’ve always wanted to go rollerblading.)

You both invite your friend groups and get to see them bond, which is both weird and endearing.

Yunjin holding onto Sunghoon and Ryujin’s hands for dear life as they’re the only two that are decent at roller skating and she’s on the verge of face planting whenever she steps on the rink on her own.

On the other hand, Yizhuo and Jay are equally bad. Yizhuo has horrible coordination and Jay… just can’t move. He can’t even take a step forward, just waves his arms around as if he’s swimming and it’ll somehow propel him. So, Yizhuo just keeps magnetically crashing into him, causing them both to fall down and need to recalibrate themselves from the boards.

Heeseung is a champion at it, as anyone would’ve expected. Though, he falls back to follow your pace, which is slow, but not agonizingly so, or so you hope.

You haven’t had the chance to go rollerblading in a while, and you end up tripping up over your own feet. Luckily, Heeseung is still there by your side to hold you so you don’t fall.

“Thanks,” you say to him, harshly gripping onto his arm to make sure you don’t.

At the end of the night, when your friends have already called it in, catching an uber or taking their own cars back, you and Heeseung stay a little while longer.

You’re sitting by the bleachers on the outside of the rink, Heeseung still freely skating on his own. He’s skating much faster, now, you notice. And he’s doing it with a big smile on his face which you can’t help but mirror when you’re watching him.

Later on, you notice he wears the same, but more subtle smile when he’s with you in the car, laughing and chatting while music blares from the speakers and the windows are rolled all the way down.

After a few weeks of date after date, midterms come up.

You and Heeseung made an agreement not to go out during this time. It gives the both of you time to recharge and focus on studying. It’d be useless to go out anyway, since his girl would probably be doing the same, you think but avoid saying.

When you make the modifications to your arrangement, you assume this means less frequent texting or calls, but those stay the same. Heeseung texts you good morning and is the last to say good night before you fall asleep, just as he’s been doing the past few weeks. You come to think that you’ve become really good friends over this time together.

You also assumed this would give you a break from acting like a couple, but Heeseung once again has other plans.

One afternoon when you don’t have classes, someone knocks at your door.

Normally, if someone’s at the door without texting you beforehand, it means it’s just another one of those door-to-door students campaigning for whatever new project they’ve come up with. Or, occasionally, it’s your next-door neighbour who’s going to warn you about being loud while working on their next project, whatever it is they’re doing.

This time, however, you’re met with a bouquet of flowers and an otherwise empty hallway. The bouquet comes with a note, that reads:

Good luck on your midterms! My two-lips will be ready to reward you once they’re over… (Sorry, Sunghoon told me to write a pun.) (Fuck why’d I write it in pen? There aren’t even tulips in this bouquet???) (This is from Heeseung BTW)

You laugh at the extra scribbles and smudged half-written words on the rest of the paper.

And it’s like magic, the way his words encourage you to keep studying, keep working harder. You pass your midterms with flying colours.

Heeseung invites you to the café on campus to celebrate, and said you needed to discuss something. When you arrive, your chocolate mocha is already sitting in front of him, on the opposite side of the booth.

He smiles when he sees you come up. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you say back. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“Well, first—” He raises his cup. “To passing midterms!”

You clink yours to his, smiling. “To passing midterms!” You both take a sip of your drinks before setting them down and looking at each other intently.

“So,” he says firmly. “I still haven’t given you your end of the deal.”

That’s right. You agreed on this whole shenanigan as long as he gives you an in on the Park family business. If you’re truly willing to become a lawyer, getting Jay to give you a good word to his father would mean a lot of doors opening, some that you’d never open otherwise.

It’s funny that something so big and important to you slipped your mind over these past few weeks.

Then you remember how you’ve discussed this would be happening. “There’s a party?”

Heeseung nods into his drink, getting a bit of foam on his upper lip. You almost lean over the table to wipe it off yourself, but instead you hand him a napkin, avoiding his eyes as you laugh nervously. “Thank you,” he whispers. Once the napkin’s down, he returns to business. “Tomorrow night at Jay’s actually. His dad won’t be there, unfortunately for you and fortunately for, like, everyone else attending.”

You nod. “So, this’ll be our first big event as a, albeit fake, couple?” Nerves begin to feed in your stomach and suddenly you’re not so thirsty. Your hands naturally start fidgeting with your cup.

The last time you went to one of the campus parties was the first week in the new year, last semester. You remember it all too well, meaning not at all. You’ve never been the best at calculating your tolerance, but that time you really went overboard.

For one, it’s embarrassing, but you also don’t want to do anything with Heeseung.

“Yeah,” Heeseung agrees nonchalantly, but he leans lower in concern, looking to meet your eyes. “But it’ll be okay, just like any of our other dates. Fake dates. Just pretend that you’re the infamous Kang Hana.” Then he adds: “But don’t be late this time.”

There he goes, making you laugh so easily.

Over the next few minutes, you agree that Heeseung will pick you up and drive the both of you to Jay’s not too early, but not too late. Jay isn’t big on wanting his friends to help him set-up, so he’s fine with whenever they decide to show up.

And when you do, you’re struck by awe, your mouth hanging agape at the… everything.

You’ve known Jay was rich, but you never considered he’d be this rich.

The black front gates leading up to a long driveway. The pillared entrance archway. The enormous garden wrapping around the household. The fountain. The white walls which are interrupted by full length windows looking into the modernly decorated mansion.

Jay stands by the door holding a blunt. Wispy smoke draws circles in the air as he exhales. “Look who it is,” he says with open arms, tossing the rest of his joint to the ground.

The boys dab each other up and Jay nods his head at you as a greeting. A chill passes through your body. You hug your body tighter underneath your jacket.

Heeseung places his hand comfortingly on your waist, pulling you closer to him so he can whisper in your ear. “If you want to leave, just say the word.” And when you shake your head, he leans in again. “Are you ready, Kang Hana?”

You decide that you are.

The party is nothing remarkable.

As promised, Heeseung makes sure to give you a chance to talk with Jay and perhaps get an ‘in’ on his father’s company. It seems to go well enough, although Jay mostly just agrees with what you’re saying, trying to move on from the topic of his dad and law.

But other than that, it’s just like any of the other parties that you’ve been to with your friends.

Music. People making out in every corner. Loud music. Couples dragging each other upstairs not-so-secretly. Decent food, despite Heeseung telling you about Jay’s personal chefs being top tier. And did you mention agonizingly loud music?

You still manage to have some fun with your fake-date, though.

The one thing that really stands out is the fact that most girls are keeping their respectful distance from Heeseung.

Usually, he would be surrounded by a dozen, at least. A couple hanging off his arms, some standing behind him, others even kneeling in front of him. They create an entourage around him like he’s some king they worship, and yet today you don’t even see a speck of that lifestyle.

It dawns on you that word really did get around about you and Heeseung.

You even lean in to tell him this much. “Your girl definitely knows,” you tell him. “Is she here?”

Heeseung looks around almost half-interestedly in the others, turning back to you with a smile. “No, I don’t think so,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too bummed out. Maybe it’s the drinks. “Do you want another drink?”

Only later on do you realize you really haven’t learned your lesson on your tolerance.

After your probably fifty-something-eth song on the dance floor, Heeseung calls it quits, having drank just as much, but clearly being able to hold himself together better.

He bids goodbye to his friends, letting you wave at them in your drunken state and gets you in the car to drive you back.

You stumble into Heeseung’s arms as you make your way out of the elevator on your floor. “Oops,” you laugh.

He makes a nervous sound before adjusting his arms to hold you properly with his hand holding onto your waist. “We’re almost there, Y/N,” he whispers, gently tugging you forward on your wobbling legs.

However, he freezes in his tracks when he’s met with your friends waiting by your door.

“Oh,” Yunjin says. “We thought—”

“God, we thought she died or something, she wasn’t answering our texts,” Yizhuo interrupts. “Are you guys gonna…”

“No, no,” Heeseung answers quickly, waving his free hand. “I was just making sure she made it safely back to her dorm.”

You cheer out of the blue, just glad to be there.

Heeseung reaches into your jacket pocket for your keys, the jingling sound making you laugh some more. He tosses the keys to Ryujin. “Here,” he says. “I’ll just bring her to bed—Uh! Not like that, I meant, like, make sure she sleeps.”

Yunjin shakes her head reassuringly. “Here, let me take her. We’ll take care of her, if you don’t mind.”

He doesn’t respond for a second, turning to look at you. The drunk-flush on your cheeks makes your eyes pop, he notices. Unknowingly, a soft smile creeps up on his lips. “Sure, sure,” he eventually says.

When he’s out of sight down the hall, the girls tug you into the room. They bring you to bed, helping you kick off your shoes and take off your jacket, but not bothering changing your clothes—who knows what kind of a struggle that would be.

The process proceeds in a comfortable silence, but not for you. You’re itching to speak, say anything. Something about the drinks in your system makes you feel chatty, so you say the first thing on your mind. “Heeseung’s so pretty.”

“I hope you think so,” Ryujin jokes. “He’s your boyfriend.”

You laugh, turning over to face away from the girls. “No he’s not.”

“Yes, he is,” Yunjin reassures, trying her best to get the blanket over your body to properly tuck you in, but you keep rolling away from her touch.

Watching you shake your head back and forth, Yizhuo curiously pushes. “What do you mean he’s not your boyfriend?”

“It’s just, like, a scheme,” you whisper the last word mischievously, wearing a cunning smile and waving your hands mysteriously. Laughing to yourself, it takes you a moment to notice your friends’ confused expressions when you look over at them again. “What?” You look up at them with a dazed smile.

“So… You and Heeseung,” Yunjin starts with furrowed brows, trying to assess the situation. “You’re not even dating?”

“Nope!” you say with a laugh, enunciating the ‘p’ with a pop of your lips.

From behind you, Yizhuo lets out a sigh of relief.

This time, Yunjin frowns at her. “What’s that about?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she says hurriedly. “It’s just that if Y/N and Heeseung were actually dating, the whole reveal would’ve been really awkward.”

“What reveal,” you ask.

She pulls her lips in, suppressing a laugh, before waving her hands and starting to confess. “So, remember how I said I slept with Heeseung at a party last semester?” Memories of her flaunting her newfound womanhood and maturity swarm your mind. You nod, yeah, I remember. “Well—” She tilts her head  guiltily. “I lied.”

You blink slowly at her. Once, and twice, before shaking your head out of pure confusion. “Wait, what? Why would you lie about that?”

Yizhuo looks over at Ryujin and Yunjin as if they’ll help her. From the less than expressive faces, you can tell they already knew. She scratches the base of her neck awkwardly. “I don’t know, I guess for status, or whatever.”

This sobers you up instantly. “Status? Like sleeping with Heeseung’s some kind of badge you get to wear around?”

She laughs nervously. “Well, no. But like, I don’t know, Y/N, I was just fucking around. I told you guys that when I was, like, really high.”

“Doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re treating him like some kind of object?” You’re always one to try to see the best in a person, in a situation, but you really can’t find it in yourself to defend Yizhuo right now. “He’s not just some fuckboy, Ning, he’s sweet, and kind, and cares about the little things, and—”

“So, you do like him?”

You sputter confusedly. “What are you even talking about?”

She stares at you dumbfoundedly. “You like him. You’re, you’re defending him,” she explains matter of factly. “Do you know how many girls he’s hurt ‘cause of his little hobby of hooking up and leaving them in the dust?”

“That has nothing to do with what we’re talking about. Admit it, Ning, you fucked up.”

She raises her arms defensively. “Fine! Maybe I did! But so did he. Multiple times with so many people. It’s weird that you’re on his side with this.” Sighing, she rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry for what I lied about when I wasn’t right in the fucking head, if that’s what you want to hear.”

You truly don’t know what’s gotten into her, but you also can’t be asked to bother caring. “Real mature,” you deadpan, realizing that that in itself is immature, too. “Get out of my room.”

She doesn’t even say anything to you. Just rolls her eyes again, mutters under her breath and tells the other girls they can come over to her place if they want. Yizhuo leaves with her jacket over her shoulder, not looking back.

“Go after her, it’s fine,” you tell Ryujin and Yunjin.

“Y/N—”

“Just go.”

They file out of the room in a hurry, and only when the door shuts do you let your tears of frustration fall. You slide down to the floor and cry into the palms of your hands with your knees up to your chest.

You’ve never had a fight like this with your friends. Sure, you’ve argued every now and then about stupid things, but something that left your chest heaving? All of this over a boy?

Your hands shake as you reach for your phone, your finger gliding past the group chat and your private messages with the girls—tempted to call them again, but you refuse—rushed to find the contact you've gotten so familiar with.

The line rings a few times, before you hear the click!.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” His voice is laced in concern, which warms your heart. And when you tell him you want to see him, he doesn't ask questions and simply tells you: “I’m on my way.”

Heeseung gets to your dorm surprisingly fast.

Then he reveals that he never left the parking lot, not specifying why, and you’re blushing all over. You avoid eye contact, but he reads it as you avoiding the topic.

He tells you as much that you don’t need to go into detail if you don't want to, simply promising to be here. “It’s been a long night, you should rest.”

You lay down in bed, lifting the covers as an invitation.

He lays down next to you. “Is this okay?” And all you can do is nod.

Your curtains are ajar, you notice, watching the way the moonlight traces Heeseung’s features. His eyes shine in the dark, but yours drift down to his glistening lips.

He lightly bites his lower lip as he holds a strong gaze on your face, studying.

Just when you think he’s about to lean in and close his eyes, Heeseung surprises you with a whisper. “I think we should go to sleep.”

Disappointment runs through your body, but you agree nonetheless.

Your dreams are plagued by the shadow of a touch and big brown eyes.

The following morning, the first thing you think is, “I slept next to Hee—Ow, my head hurts really bad?!”

You groan as you push the blankets on the side, when you notice the other half of the bed is empty. The sight of it makes you frown, but then you hear rustling the bathroom and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re up?” Heeseung peers his head around the corner of the bathroom. His hair drips onto the flooring and evaporated hot water trails behind him. “I hope you don't mind. I took a shower.”

Not finding the words, you wave it off. Shaking your head proves to be a bad idea because you’re left clenching in your fists from the pain.

Heeseung frowns. “Headache?” When you nod, he points to your side table. “I left a glass of water—I hope you don't mind I took it from your filter—and an ibuprofen—which I took from your cabinet, I really hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay, Heeseung,” you tell him quietly, wearing a pained, but genuine smile. “I really appreciate it, thank you.”

He smiles shyly before returning to the bathroom. And then it dawns on you that he might not have been wearing clothes during your exchange. Your face flushes, again.

When he leaves the bathroom, it’s your turn to freshen up. You try not to think about it too much.

“What should we have for breakfast?” he asks casually, sitting by your desk and is still working hard at drying his hair.

Your eyes are stuck on Heeseung’s movements. The way he fiddles with the towel to dry his hair, his face scrunching as he swipes rapidly. You smile in silent laughter at his cute expression, but you don't say anything about it.

“I’m really craving a croissant.”

That’s how you find yourself, hands inching away from Heeseung’s as you walk, making your way down to the café.

He tells you to find your regular table, assuring you that he’ll order. There’s no point in protesting, plus your headache still hasn't completely dissipated, so you willingly agree.

It only takes a few minutes for him to come back with a caffe latte and a dark chocolate mocha as per usual, as well as two croissants in paper bags.

“How’d you know I wanted a dark chocolate croissant,” you ask, peering into its bag. It’s glorious, you note, taking it out, careful not to spill the freshly drizzled still-hot chocolate.

Heeseung shrugs. “You’re always ordering the dark chocolate mocha, so I figured you'd like it on your croissant, too. It’s good right?”

You nod and hum into your food as a response, too enthralled by the taste and Heeseung’s attention to detail.

Your outing together goes well, as they always have.

He doesn't bring up your tear-stained cheeks from last night or the sudden call, to which you’re glad. The conversation is light, but natural. Every now and then, he makes you laugh and forget all about last night's events—almost all of them. Lingering at the back of your mind is the moonlight across his face, his soft lips and the feeling that you imagined when looking at them; the feeling of them pressing against your own.

Heeseung insists on walking you back to your dorm, again. You’ve learned by now that it's useless to argue with him, as stubborn as he is. “It’s on my way,” he lies. “Really, it's for me, mostly.”

That second statement is less of a lie, you can tell.

“After you,” he says, gesturing toward the elevator.

You lean against the elevator wall, closing your eyes. “I’m so tired,” you say with a muffled voice.

After pressing the button to your dorm with no hesitation, Heeseung’s eyes darken with a serious air. “Are you sure you're okay?” He’s not really asking about right now, more so about everything that happened last night. Everything he doesn't know about.

You’re afraid of admitting to him that you drunkenly spilled the truth to all of your friends, and caused a fight because of it. Not to mention he was the center of it.

Internally, you decide not to tell him about Yizhuo’s damage. That’s something between her and him, and you're not going to push it onto either of them.

“You can trust me—” Then, he reassures. “Only if you're comfortable.”

You are. So, you start to put together how you’ll tell him in your head, but your thoughts are interrupted by a loud—

THUD!

“What was—”

THUD! THUD!

And then, you’re falling.

Shit. We’re           falling.

Your brain stops working, completely freezing in your spot, the noise of the elevator screeching against its reins echoing in your head. Your heart pounds against your chest.

“On the ground!" a distant voice yells. Heeseung.

Right. That’s smart.

You follow his movements and lie down next to him, spread eagle. Your arms are practically on top of each other.

Heeseung grips onto your shoulder, shaking it. “We’ll be okay,” he says, though you're not sure if it's to you or himself. His eyes stay open widely, bloodshot. 

Suddenly, the elevator stops in its movements. The unexpected stop makes your chest bounce, but altogether, you're okay. You’re okay. “Is anyone in there?” The voice is muffled from behind the closed doors, but you think you recognize it as one of the janitors from the building.

Hurriedly, Heeseung rushes to the door. “Yes, yes, we’re in here!”

“Stay there—Er, I mean, stay still—Or, just don't worry we’ll get you out of there. Soon.” The ending of his sentence doesn't bring much reassurance, but from your spot still on the floor, you force yourself to believe his words.

Heeseung doesn't seem convinced either, but he lets out a sigh and extends his hand to help you up. You take his offer and try your best to ignore the fire his touch alights in your stomach. “I guess we have some time.”

“I guess we do,” you say with an awkward laugh.

He doesn't say anything in response, giving you the chance to lead the conversation. If you wanted to completely ignore the subject at hand, you don't think he'd mind. This gives you the confidence to do the complete opposite.

You take a deep breath before sputtering, “I told my friends about our deal. Drunkenly, so like totally an accident, but I did and now they know and—”

“Oh,” is all that comes out of his mouth at first. You worriedly lift your eyes to meet his, though now they're glued to the ceiling, with his back leaning against the wall. “That's—That’s okay. What harm could they cause? Unless you're telling me they're planning on going around campus exposing us… But that's not your fault.”

This time, you say “Oh,” standing in silence and staring at Heeseung’s favourite spot on the ceiling, too. The panel twitches from above, and you can imagine the elevator crashing has something to do with it. “I also got into a huge fight with them, or maybe not all of them, but it was, it was bad. We've never fought like that.”

“What was the fight about?”

You, you want to say. How Yizhuo did something stupid and it somehow turned into being about your complicated feelings for him. But you can’t tell him all of it, that’d be too much for such a tight space.

Shrugging while trying to look unconcerned, you decide to confess a half-truth. For some reason, you can’t get yourself to lie to him. “They think our plan is a bad idea because you’d be supposedly ‘using me,’ as if I like you, or something…”

He’s silent, at first. Heeseung considers what you’ve said, neither comforting nor arguing against you for it.

“Do you?”

You turn to him. “Do I what?”

“Like me,” he answers. “Do you like me?”

“I…” you start lamely. Your eyes avoid his, but they always seem to find their way back to his gaze, your face flushing underneath it. “I can’t answer that.”

And neither does he.

Instead, he turns so his body is completely facing yours, coming much closer than he was before. You tilt your head toward his where your breaths fan against each other. Your eyes make the mistake of drifting down to his lips again, and you instantly lose all composure.

You lean in first, but he’s quick to follow your lead, placing his hands onto your waist, while yours find their way to the base of his neck.

The kiss is delicate, but sparks fly all around. Your stomach does a flip when you feel his tongue tracing your bottom lip, but you don’t deny him access for long. 

Heeseung’s hands trail down your torso to your hips, where they inch backward to pull you closer into him. You follow his movements until he’s pushed against the wall with you tightly pressed against him. He flexes his arms around your body and flips you so your back is against the wall instead, with him hovering above you.

His knee is drawn between your legs pressing against your core, eliciting a moan, but it doesn’t go further than that. Soon enough, your movements are slowing down, though your heart is still racing in your chest.

When you separate, your mouth hangs open. “Heeseung…” you whisper, but before you can say anything more, the doors slide open.

“Are you okay?” The janitor that you predicted would be there is standing by the buttons, holding a handy-man suitcase for the electrician kneeling in front of the panel. “Anyone get hurt?”

You brush off any dust from your back, adjusting your shirt and hair to be more presentable. Also to erase the memory of whatever just happened. Did we really…? “No. No, we’re okay. Thank you.”

“Yes, we’re… okay,” Heeseung adds quietly.

You don’t even wait for Heeseung, rushing toward the staircase on the other side to get to your floor. For a moment, you hear his footsteps behind you, but once you’re up halfway, you realize he’s given up and you let out a sigh of relief.

You don’t really want to face him now, not after what just happened.

Luckily for you, you don’t need to face him for a long time afterward.

You stare at his latest text (”assignments are pretty crazy atm let’s reschedule our next fake dates”), trying not to focus on your heart tightening at his word choice, and quickly reply:

ME sounds good! see u :) 10:11

The week goes by slowly and quietly.

With Heeseung mostly M.I.A besides the occasional short-worded answers to your texts and you actively avoiding running into your friends, you’ve had a lot more time for yourself and you notice how much you hate it.

So, you pluck up the courage to text the ghosted group chat, asking the girls to meet together at the café. You all need to talk, whether any of you like it or not.

Though, the reason you even have the motivation to do this at all is because you know the girls have been making an effort to talk. Although not in the group chat, your messages have been spammed daily with apologies and questions about your daily life, to keep it casual. You also received a note during the class you share with Ryujin which read simply: “Love ya xx”

You smiled at it before crumpling it and stuffing it into your bag—What? You were trying to make a statement.

Now there’s no need for theatrical note crumpling, with the three girls surrounding you at your regular booth. Yours and Heeseung’s, you mean. It’s the comfiest there, you convince yourself when making the natural choice to sit there.

The space is filled with awkward silence as you sip on your mocha, feeling even more stuffy when the girls don’t make a move to drink their own orders. You’ve had enough of this. “Guys… Let’s talk, or something. We’re still friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Yizhuo says out of the blue. “Seriously. That was really messed up and I shouldn’t have said it. And I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, you had every right to be mad.”

You smile softly. “Thank you,” is all you say, taking her hands in yours and squeezing them. You lean your head against her shoulder and the two of you stay like that for a while.

“You really like Heeseung, don’t you?”

Your head shoots up at Yunjin’s sudden question. You stumble over your words, trying to suppress the blush from spreading up to the tips of your ears, but you feel the heat anyway. “No, no, I—I don’t. No.” You shake your head for emphasis, but Yizhuo looks at you with telling eyes.

“Sure, I believe you,” she says, completely meaning the opposite.

“I just—” you start, not really knowing how you feel. “Our whole set-up, it’s—it’s fake. He doesn’t feel the same. I don't even know why he kissed me—”

“He kissed you?!”

Before you have the chance to respond, your phone buzzes, drawing your attention thankfully away from your accidental reveal. It’s Heeseung. Great.

희승♡ there’s a party at sunghoon's, you wanna come? 14:23

ME when is it? 14:23 

희승♡ tonight @ 10 14:23

You look back up at the girls to find them staring at you with knowing smiles. It’s not hard for them to notice who you’re texting, or the way your eyes glint at the messenger.

“So,” you tell them. Yizhuo and Ryujin lean in, while Yunjin raises a curious brow. “Who wants to go to a party?”

Sunghoon’s house isn’t as grand, but it’s just as prepared for a party as Jay’s. Music blares into the driveway as you, Heeseung and the girls make your way to the door. Nobody is standing by it with a blunt, but the wide-open entrance is welcome enough.

“You guys go in,” you tell the girls, making a sign for them to not protest. They don’t, understanding your unspoken signal and heading inside. You turn back to Heeseung who looks more nervous than he’s known to be nonchalant. “Hey…”

“Hey,” he says back.

“It’s been a while.”

He hums, looking off to the cars spilling out into the street, nodding at nothing. “I’m sorry, I was, uh, busy,” he clarifies.

A chill passes between you, but you’re not so sure if it’s the wind or the awkward air. Either way, you’re happy to have brought a jacket to bury your hands in.

“You made up with your friends,” Heeseung notes suddenly.

“Yeah, we talked earlier.” He’s not going to bring up the kiss, you conclude, and neither are you. Maybe you can go on and forget it happened altogether. “We sorted it all out.”

Heeseung gives you a genuine, albeit small, smile. “That’s good.”

Scenes from the elevator rush through your mind. His hands around your waist, his lips against yours. The way it all felt, how consumed you were of him. How good it was. You blink it away and gesture to the door. “Should we…”

“Let’s go,” he says, then adds, “Kang Hana.”

You laugh. Okay, you think, we’re okay.

And with Heeseung by your side, the night is one to remember.

With the music ringing loudly throughout the house, after a few light drinks, you and Heeseung spend your time dancing with your hands on each other, rhythmically guiding each other to the melody. You almost forget there are other people in the room at all, closing your eyes and only thinking of the man holding you in his arms.

When the fourth or fifth song ends, you separate, only for him to run his hand down your arm to grab your hand on his own. He leads you to one of the rec rooms.

“There she is!” Yunjin’s drunken voice makes you giggle, the buzz getting to you, too.

“Hi, hi,” you tell her and the others.

Yizhuo is busy steadying her aim, holding onto a ping pong ball just past her nose with one closed eye, to greet you, but Ryujin waves sleepily from her place. She’s leaning against someone you recognize from one of her study groups. They nod to you, too.

“Hey,” Heeseung whispers, leaning into your ear.

You giggle at the feeling of his words against your skin. “Hey, back.”

“I’m gonna go get another drink, you want one?”

You nod eagerly, letting your fingers fiddle with his even as he begins to walk away. When he’s gone, your hands linger in the air for a moment more, missing the warmth of his hold.

Suddenly, the warmth comes back, though it’s different.

Turning around, you’re faced with Jay. “Can we talk?” he asks.

Wordlessly, you nod and let him guide you through the crowd of people to a more secluded area.

“What’s up?” You try to steady your voice, but it comes out higher pitched and perky out of instinct, still feeling the adrenaline of the buzz.

“Heeseung told me you wanted an ‘in’ at my dad’s firm?”

Your eyes light up. “Yes, yes I do!”

He chuckles at your excitement. “Well… I can give you his details so you can get into contact with him. I’m also technically not supposed to tell you this, but—” You lean in expectantly. “—they're picking out students for a co-op over the summer. Maybe I could put in a good word, slide your application at the top of the pile…”

“You can do that? Seriously!?”

“I can’t guarantee it’ll be with my father himself.” He raises his arms in defense. “But I can definitely get you some connections on the inside.”

Your hands come up to your mouth, holding it from going agape in honour. “Thank you, oh my God, thank you,” you repeat for good measure. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The air shifts as he moves closer to you. Jay’s hand lands on the wall not far off from your head. He leans in, his breath tickling your skin, making your cheeks flush. “Maybe you could thank me by letting me take you out?”

For a moment, you’re frozen in your spot. How are you meant to react? Heeseung’s best friend hitting on you? What would happen if he saw? Wait, does it even matter? You’re not actually dating. Right?

But the elevator…

“Hey,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you. Heeseung steps forward, the lights of the party illuminating his features dimly. His face wears an uncharacteristic anger in his furrowed brows and hardened jaw. “Back off.”

Jay simply laughs, retracting his hand. “Why do you care,” he taunts.

You try to keep your composure. Jay hasn't been the nicest out of the group, but you never expected him to sound so mean.

You watch as Heeseung refuses to reply, not wanting to push Jay even more as he’s clearly too buzzed to have a coherent conversation. He tries to grab onto his arms and lead him away, but Jay’s quick to push them off.

“You don’t even like the girl,” Jay slurs.

Heeseung gets closer to him, grabbing his arm and talking into his face to make sure he listens. “You’re drunk, Jay, back off.”

Jay isn’t having it. He tosses his head back in a laugh. “Don’t tell me you actually fell for her?” he asks in a venomous tone. Your stomach churns as you watch their interaction. A smirk grows across his lips. “You owe me.”

“Fuck off.”

“What?” You weren’t going to step in, already feeling shaken up enough from tonight’s events. But Jay’s words ring in your mind. “What does he mean you owe him? What, what is he saying?”

Heeseung’s eyes lock with yours, pity and sadness ghosting his expression. “Y/N, I can explain—”

“We made a bet,” Jay cuts in. He shrugs Heeseung’s hands off of his shoulders. “He had to get any girl on campus to fall for him, leave her in the dust and watch her crawl back.” He turns to Heeseung with a mocking pout, his steps wobbling. He’s really drunk. “Doesn’t matter that she won’t come crawling back, ‘cause you’re too soft to leave her.”

“What’s your problem,” Heeseung shuts. “Are you jealous? That’s fucking low, even for you.”

You can’t even see him properly, your vision blurred in tears. Your breath catches in your throat as you want to say something to interrupt, come between. But you can’t even stand being by Heeseung right now. “A bet? This was all a bet?”

He turns to you quickly. “Y/N, please, let me explain.”

You shake your head, tears running down your cheek, surely ruining your mascara. “I have to go.”

Maybe it would make sense if you let him explain. Maybe he could somehow salvage the situation, but you can’t hear it. Not right now. Not after everything you’ve felt for him, everything you still feel for him despite the ache in your chest.

From behind you, Heeseung calls your name. “Wait, please!” You ignore him and run out of the house.

Your body shakes. “Should’ve brought a sweater..” you mumble bitterly. Then you remember that you did, but you left it inside. You also realize that you left all of your friends behind without a word. “And my phone,” you groan. You could easily turn back around and get them, but you’re already halfway down the road, you can even see your building in the distance.

It’s too humiliating to go back now, anyway.

How could I be so stupid? you think to yourself. Lee Heeseung, going out with you out of his own free will? Stupid. Impossible. Just a dumb fantasy. 

It starts to rain. You curse at the sky.

When you finally make it to your dorm, stumbling up the steps because of course the elevator still hasn’t been fixed, you go straight to bed without washing up. You’re too tired for this. And, you realize, you drank too much to care.

You try to fall asleep. You really do.

But your head keeps replaying Jay and Heeseung’s conversation. The way Heeseung lips parted when Jay revealed it all. The way he looked at you, begging for you to listen to him. It’s all stuck in your head and in fear of it following you into your dreams, your body refuses to fall asleep to ignore everything.

Just as you’re about to take your pillow and scream into it, you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone.

희승♡ i’m right outside your door 02:23

희승♡ you have every right to slam the door in my face 02:23

희승♡ or not open it at all 02:24

Staring at the messages, you bit your lip in consideration of your options.

You could, A. Not get up. Keep the door closed and never speak to Lee Heeseung ever again. Or, B. Get up, open the door and see what he has to say to explain himself. You’re liking the former, but your feet move on their own toward the entrance.

You lift yourself up to peer through the peephole. Heeseung is standing there, fidgeting anxiously in his stance. He looks from right to left a couple times, down to his phone, back up, and closes his eyes. After a deep breath, you watch him begin to walk backward, slowly.

Something snaps in you. You open the door.

His eyes widen at the sight of you. You’re probably still a mess, eyes red from crying paired with tear-stained cheeks and running mascara. You don’t even want to begin to picture the state of your hair. Yet, he looks at you in awe. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

Wordlessly, you step back to motion for him to come in.

Heeseung follows you onto the couch, where you sit down to look past the TV in front of you and stare at a blank space on the wall. You feel his eyes on you.

“I’m sorry,” he then says.

You don’t reply.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he starts again. “But can I tell you everything from the start? I need you to know what really happened. Then, you can go on to hate me.”

I don’t hate you, you want to say. You don’t speak, nodding for him to go on.

Ironically, considering he was drunk out of his mind, Heeseung remembers the moment he got your call.

He and the boys were hanging at Sunghoon’s, originally just planning on playing video games and getting high, but then Sunghoon mentioned his dad’s stash. “Whiskey and lemonade, anyone? Rum and coke? Dirty Shirley? If you’re feeling creative,”

Who was Heeseung to deny?

And so, soon enough, they were drunk enough to forget the weight on their shoulders and act more carefreely. This is when Jay decided to come up with a brilliant idea.

“So we all know Heeseung’s a whore—”

“Hey,” he interrupted. “I haven’t gotten some in, like, four months.”

Jay laughed, taking another swig of his drink. He grimaced as the liquid burned down his throat. “You’ve basically fucked half of the campus, but it’s always one night and that’s it.” Heeseung nodded, not sure where he was going with this. “Bet you can’t get someone to fall in love, or some shit.”

He couldn’t help but raise a brow challengingly. “What? You think someone wouldn’t fall for me if I gave them flowers and took them out?”

“Have you ever even actually dated?”

The answer was yes. Technically. If you count middle school relationships. Otherwise, fine, he’ll admit to himself that he hasn’t ever dated anyone seriously. That’s just ‘cause he hasn’t found anyone he’s really interested that he knows would be into him, too.

Of course, there was you. You were the first person he ever fell head over heels for. Heeseung didn’t even know he was capable of falling so hard, but he did.

Though you would never like him back. You’ve already confirmed it.

So, Heeseung clapped his hands determinedly. “You wanna bet on it?”

But before Jay could answer, his phone rang.

The contact felt familiar—Note Giver—but his mind couldn’t register. “Hello,” he said confusedly.

Some commotion on the other side took him by surprise.

“Um… Who is this?” Sunghoon looked at him curiously, wondering what could’ve interrupted their moment.

The girl, he presumed, on the other side hesitated for a moment. There was more noise before she said: “This is… Hana…”

“Hana?”

“Kang. Kang Hana,” the girl clarified. Y/N. He finally realized it was you. “We met at the, uh, party last Friday. At Jay’s.”

Heeseung considered your words, wondering where you were going with this. At the same time, he accidentally spilled his drink. “Shit,” he whispered away from his phone. Sunghoon tossed him a towel with a big smile on his face. When the mess was mostly cleaned, Heeseung brought the phone back to his ear, cleaning the rest of it with his other hand. “Kang Hana.”

“Yeah, we had a good time together, didn’t we?”

He paused. “I guess,” he said slowly. He wanted to have a little fun with this, listen to your voice a little longer. “Can you remind me?”

You began to tell the tale about your supposed encounter, spinning the story into something that genuinely impressed Heeseung. Every now and then, he hummed, trying to suppress a laugh at your creativity. He doesn’t even want to know why this was happening.

“I’m so sorry, I left you in the dirt and—” Your voice was cut off by a squeal, shocking him.

“Woah!” he yelped, pulling the phone away once again. Jay couldn’t hold his laugh at Heeseung’s reaction.

“Who is it,” he asked.

Heeseung didn’t miss a beat before responding without really thinking. “Y/N.”

He practically hears your heart drop. “You knew it was me?”

“Obviously,” he replied with a chuckle. “Took me a second, I’m a little tipsy, haha.” He didn’t want to throw you off by admitting he was more than buzzed, so he told a white lie. As long as he was coherent enough to have a conversation, he thought it was fine.

“Oh, am I interrupting?”

“You’re never a bother, babe.”

Why did I say that? Maybe he’s more drunk than he thought. It just slipped past his lips, he doesn’t know why. Were his fantasies meshing with reality that he couldn’t help himself? Heeseung tries not to watch Jay’s face morph into something mischievous.

“Huh,” you said, which made Heeseung cringe.

Jay mouthed something in his direction. He tried to read it, but it must've been something along the lines of “Her. She’s the girl.”

Heeseung knew what he meant and mentally hurled the empty chair to his right at him. Back to the phone conversation, he tried to change the subject. “Are you with the girls?”

You told him you were, and he took this as an opening.

As much as he wanted to keep talking with you, since it’s been so long, he needed to get away from this conversation to recover from the embarrassing slip-up. “I don’t want to keep you if you’re having fun. Text me later though, okay?” God, when does he stop talking?

You confusedly told him “Okay?” before you cut the call.

He was already typing a message to apologize to you for his behaviour, but Jay was already telling him to play along with it some more. The bet was on and he decided that you were going to be the girl.

Heeseung felt a knot form in his stomach.

“I should’ve just come clean when we met at the café, but I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He ends his retelling at that, you fill in the rest with your mind.

You’re not sure what to say. You have so many questions and comments spiralling in your mind, where do you even start? “There was never a girl?”

“No… Just you.”

Stuttering, you just have to ask. “Why me?”

“Jay told me to go for you, said it would be a challenge. I was stupid enough to go along with it. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, I wanted to tell you the truth, but I… I really like you, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d want to be with me if you knew the truth.”

“You called me babe.” Is all you say.

“What?”

“On call. The first time. You called me babe. I thought that was you playing your role.”

Heeseung lets out a shaky sigh that sounds more like a breathy laugh. “I was drunk,” he explains. “And I…” You look at him expectantly. “I’ve liked you since we met, and I guess it slipped up ‘cause I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

This shocks you. You blink up at him. “Since we met?”

“Well, pretty much.” He rubs the base of his neck awkwardly. “Obviously you’re really pretty, but it was more than that. You were always the first in class. You only answered the professor when no one else would, even though you definitely always knew the answer. You’re so well spoken, too.” You blush at his words. You never realized he had been so observant. You never thought anyone would notice so much about you.

However, you shake your head. “But you never said anything?” This truly astounds you. The everknown Lee Heeseung never made a move to even at least try to be with you. You can’t even know if you would’ve said no to him because well… he’s him. If you knew him the way you know him now, you know you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat.

“Remember what I told you about the girl I liked?” You nod. “You’re her.”

You furrow your brows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Last semester, I went to one of the campus parties and you were there. You were drunk out of your mind,” he laughs. Oh, God, he remembers, too? “At first I was just admiring this new side of you. So carefree and so unapologetically you.” His eyes glint at the memory. You can almost see it replaying in your head. Almost because you truly can’t remember much of that night. “And then you ran off to the bathroom at some point ‘cause you got sick. I followed you to make sure you were alright, but you pushed me away.

“You told me to fuck off ‘cause you didn’t want to sleep with me. You called me a player and said you didn’t want to get roped up in that, or something. I think you insulted me some more, but your words were kind of all mashed together.” You flush. “I left you alone, but made sure to get your friends to check on you. And, I don’t know, I kind of lost interest in hooking up with random people after that.”

Your eyebrows raise, impressed. “You quit cold turkey?” He nods. “For me?”

He nods again.

“Wow… You really like me?”

“Y/N, I think I’m in love with you.”

You find yourself teetering on the edge of disbelief and joy, uncertain about how to respond to this unexpected revelation. Heeseung looks at you with such tenderness that you’ve never had directed toward you, to which your heart flutters with warmth.

His eyes shift from adoration to concern as you sit there in shock for a moment. “I know you probably don’t like me back, but—” he starts, but you don’t let him finish.

Driven by a surge of emotions, you lean in, pressing your lips against his.

As you kiss him this time, there’s a greater sense of assurance. Your first kiss carried an air of uncertainty, with both of you unsure about each other’s feelings. The way you felt when pulling away left your stomach in knots, thoughts of insecurities and worries running through your mind.

You let go of your hesitation, now, focusing solely on this moment. The way your lips connect to his, the way he smiles into the kiss and the way you pull away to look at him with telling eyes.

“I love you, Kang Hana,” Heeseung tells you.

You reply with a laughing smile. “I love you, too, Lee Heeseung.”

A ringing phone blares in your ear early in the morning. You groan, eyelids barely awake since even the sun hasn't come up yet. “Hello,” you mumble into the receiver. “Um… Who is this?”

You recognize the chuckle from the other side. Suddenly, you’re much more awake. “I’m sorry, Love, did I wake you?”

“No! No—” you scramble but are cut off by a yawn. Heeseung laughs softly again. “Yes, you did, but that's okay. Why're you calling so early? How are you even up?”

“I couldn't sleep.” Then, he adds more teasingly. “Not without you.”

You can practically hear the wink he sends.

“I wanted to watch the sunrise, and then I thought that maybe you’d want to watch it with me?” He says it like a question, as if he's not sure. You shake your head even though you know he can't see it. “Maybe I should've thought this through…”

A giggle escapes your lips without warning. “It’s fine, Heeseung. How about you come over and we’ll watch it by my window? Unless you have a spot?”

He hums assuredly. “No, no, I was just gonna watch it from mine, too. I’m actually, uh, already inside your building.”

He’s so ridiculous. You laugh to yourself before telling him to come up—You unlock the door, only for him to appear right on the other side as you do it.

“Hi,” you tell him with a bright smile despite your tired eyes.

“Hi,” he replies quietly.

You’re lucky your window is facing the east, with little to nothing blocking your view from the clear bluish-orange morning sky, aside from some trees, but they only add to the landscape. The sunrise is beautiful, but you conclude that Heeseung is much more beautiful, especially with the way his eyes reflect the sun rays that hit through your window.

For a moment, you shut your eyes to appreciate the heat of the rays. “Beautiful,” Heeseung murmurs.

Just as both girls imagined how to rearrange the space, Giselle and Karina stepped down the house's stairs, frowning.

Karina, is, as always, not amused by the struggle placed in front of her, but Giselle scoffs, judging her bandmates for not having things ready yet. They were supposed to pack their stuff in the car while she and Karina prepared their snacks and made sure all the windows and doors were closed, so they’d find no surprises once they got back home from their trip. Now, they’d leave later than expected, which would result in them facing the road at night— which was exactly what they were avoiding.

This day was starting to piss her off.

“What are you doing?” Giselle crossed her arms against her chest, trying her best to not sound as irritated as she was. They all knew, though. The girls know each other too well.

“Playing Tetris.” Minjeong stared back at her, with a tone that was just as presumptuous. “What does it look like we’re doing, Gigi? The space is obviously too fucking small for all of our stuff.”

Karina takes a step further before Giselle is able to open her mouth and give her friend a petty response. Her clumsy hands rearranged the suitcases so fast the three girls barely registered her actions, closing the hood of the car in a quick motion so everything wouldn’t fall off.

“Mhm, you won’t be able to see much of what’s behind the car, Gigi, but I don’t think it can get any better than that.”

The girls simply stare, impressed by Karina’s skills.

“So… problem solved?” Ningning asks, and they all nod.

Without a word, the four girls enter the small car, squeezing themselves as they prepare for their small trip. It wasn’t uncommon for the band to spend hours stuck in Giselle’s stepfather’s old 2000 Civic, but the lack of space was always annoying, making them all feel packed in like sardines. However, the vehicle was the only option they had to make their way to nearby cities to perform, so they avoided making any complaints.

The band was just about an hour into their 4-hour drive when Giselle pulled over, cursing under her breath.

“Fuck.” She mutters, biting her nails as she looks at the line of cars being stopped by the police, just a few miles ahead. Her face was even paler than usual, which set the girls on alert mode immediately— out of the four of them, Giselle was the least likely to panic at any unusual situation.

As soon as her body tensed, the Uchinaga felt long, lithe hands on her neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to soothe her, filling her with reassurance. Karina’s, naturally. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, why did we stop?” Ningning adds to Karina’s question, just as curious.

Minjeong’s brows furrow and she adjusts her posture, trying to stare at the horizon in the same position Giselle was, from the passenger’s seat instead. As always, she’s quick to understand the situation. “They’re stopping the cars ahead, but it’s just their normal procedure. They’ll stop us, of course, since we’re young girls traveling by ourselves with a bunch of luggage, but we’ve got nothing to hide, so… keep going, unnie. It’s fine.”

Seconds went by before Giselle grunted, a tense atmosphere hanging in the air while she fidgeted her fingers. Only then, her answer came, barely in a murmur. “I don’t have a license.” She could only hope they hadn’t heard her.

Judging from the way her bandmates’ mouths opened in shock they all started to speak together, though, they did.

Such a selective hearing, huh. She always had to yell at them at least three times for someone to get up from the living room and do the dishes, whenever they were home.

“What the fuck, unnie?”

“Do you really drive us illegally? Girl, we go everywhere by car!”

“I can’t believe you’re so damn irresponsible, I fucking swe—“

Karina stops their banter by out-screaming the two younger girls, a few minutes after Giselle had shrieked down on her seat so much she could merge with it anytime. “Wait! Wait.” Three pairs of eyes stare at her, inquiring. The quietness was odd, but it didn’t last much anyway. “I thought you had your permit taken last month?”

It’s Giselle’s turn to roll her eyes, then. “I literally told you I failed. Do you pay attention to anything I say?”

Despite the situation they found themselves in, Minjeong and Ningning couldn’t help but giggle. It wasn’t news that Karina’s got her head up in the clouds, but her innocence was always funny to the girls. Despite being the oldest, she’s just a big puppy, after all.

And she looks outraged, ears red at the thought of being fooled by Aeri.

“What? we even celebrated!” Her face comes to the realization, as Minjeong tries to hide her laughter with a fake coughing fit. Winter’s blonde hair blows effortlessly when she turns her head to the window, in an obvious attempt to escape Giselle’s piercing stare. “Oh! Was that why you were being such a jerk the entire night, at the club?”

Giselle ruffles her hair in frustration but nods anyway. “Yes, that was the reason. Thanks for reminding us of that wonderful day, Jiminnie.”

Ningning taps on Karina’s shoulder, in hopes of offering some comfort to the desolated girl. She whistles, then looks from Aeri to Minjeong as if hoping they’d pull a permit out of nowhere and start driving again. Once it’s clear none of them would provide any solution, she does so herself, lifting her hips to grab her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll call Y/n.” Is all she says, clicking on the red number with 13 missed calls on the screen. “She’ll do something about it.”

Karina’s even more outraged, then, staring at Ningning in disbelief. She tries to reach out for her friend’s phone, but the maknae pulls her hand away with a huff. “Why do you even have her number, anyway?”

Sure, you’d be at their presentation, even if it were at a nearby town, hours away from where they lived. Somehow, you always show up. The girls couldn’t even remember when it happened; all they know is that they played at Ningning’s cousin’s club once, and from then on there you were, accompanying them in every step. You took pictures, edited videos to upload on their YouTube channel, and even helped them get some gigs every once in a while. It’s difficult for the girls to understand the reason you spend so much time and effort with them— a broke, nugu band who’s been doing this for a little over a year, yet there you were. Their first and most faithful fan, ready to drop everything and help them with any situation, at any given time.

Just like now.

Nonetheless, they had agreed to keep you at an arm's distance, only so the lines wouldn’t get too blurry. With time, they got to know you better, and it was noticeable you were as spoiled, obsessive, and explosive as you were sweet and passionate about the things you liked.

Truth be told, you scared them a little.

“I thought we had agreed on not talking to the psycho anymore,” Minjeong commented, resting her head on the window.

Ningning pauses at that, muting herself on the phone for a moment before answering, straightforwardly. “Well, do you want to get there or not?”

Her honesty is harsh enough that Minjeong lifts her palms in surrender, while Karina and Giselle share a knowing look. Ning’s right, naturally —what matters is that they get to the club on time.

“Fine,” The blonde sighs, turning to point at Karina. “But you’ll have to handle that nightmare of a weirdo. Don’t let her freak out or anything, like she did last time.”

“Why do I always have to do it?” Karina pouts, rolling her eyes. “Come on! What the fuck.”

Giselle giggles, grateful that Karina can’t reach out to punch her as she nods. “I agree… it’s a leader’s duty.”

With her brows furrowed and her rosy lips, the oldest member of the band looks much like a doll, adorable in all of her mannerisms. Even when she scoffs, it doesn’t come out nearly as rude and intimidating as she intends it to be. She still looks like a painting, so pretty Ningning pokes her playfully, brushing the irritation out of Karina with her ticklish fingers. Once she’s left ticklish in her seat, Ningning drops her phone, done with her call.

“Y/n said she’ll be here soon.” She announces, and the girls hum faintly in response. It’s enough for her to giggle, reaching out for her bag in hopes of finding a snack. “Don’t be too excited, damn...”

“I just hope she doesn’t take long,” Giselle mutters, ignoring the glares she gets by being to blame for their current situation.

“Well, if someone had just passed their driving test, we wouldn’t—”

The Uchinaga turns to Winter so fast her neck makes a weird noise. “Shut the fuck up, Minjeong.” Her tone is full of mockery, which is dangerous. Giselle gets irritated easily, but it’s hard to get her mad. Whenever she does, though… None of the girls like that. “I don’t see you driving around either.”

Minjeong, who’d rather die than recognize she doesn’t excel at something, puts a hand on her chest with the comment. Her face is quickly filled with red and, in a minute, she’s defending herself as if she’s just received a 5-year sentence.

As much as their banter is entertaining, Ningning still clings onto Karina on the backseat, resting her head on her unnie’s shoulders.

“I do hope Y/n arrives soon.” She tells her friend, closing her eyes despite the noisy background.

Karina smiles, ruffling the maknae’s hair with tenderness as she relaxes beside the oldest. “Don’t worry, Ning. She will.”

If there’s something she’s sure of, is that you don’t play when it comes to their band. Be it for good or for worse.

—

“Hello, cuties.” You say, tapping your knuckles on the driver’s window to gather attention. It works: the girls all jump in their seats, cursing under their breaths as they try to gather themselves from the scare. “Your knight in shining armor has come! Hurry, hurry! You’re running late.”

It had been less than an hour since Ningning’s call, so there’s no way you could’ve reached them so quickly. None of them say those words out loud, of course— some questions are better left unanswered.

“Here comes the devil.” Minjeong mumbles. The smile she gives you is drenched in feigned politeness, yet yours is sincere, bluntly ignoring her grumpiness with a wave of your hand.

“Hi, Y/n.” Karina greets you as the four girls get out of the car. You hug each one of them energetically, clearly pleased to be urged to help.

It doesn’t even bother you that Giselle, Winter, and Ningning only mumble, not paying you much attention. If only, your happiness would take long to wear off.

Still swooning, you gesture to the van that’s parked beside their car where a handsome, baby-faced boy waves at the girls with ease.

“My brother won this van at a bet a few days ago, and fortunately, he lent it to us. It’s more fitting for a band anyway.” You gesture at their car, still explaining. “Gyu can take your stepdad’s car back to your house, Gigi. Don’t worry.”

They already know Beomgyu from the previous times he’s dropped you off at their rehearsals and shows, so it’s nothing new. Although Giselle doesn’t seem convinced about your idea, she reluctantly gives him the car keys anyway. There’s no other option; she can’t just leave the car on the road, even though giving it to a stranger makes her uneasy.

“Thank you, Beomgyu-ssi.” The girls bow at him, thankful for the extra space, to which he simply nods.

The girls are quick to transport the suitcases to the van, stretching their legs out as they sigh with contentment. It’s like they can finally breathe, now that they’re not cramped in a tiny space. Even Minjeong is smiling, her little banter with Giselle being long forgotten by now.

Giselle is in the passenger’s seat, this time, and she’s surprised to see how easy it is to talk to a happy Y/n. You laugh and gossip over other bands the girls come across sometimes, and you tell them the entire story of how Beomgyu actually got the van. Time flies by while you’re on the wheel, and soon enough the four girls find themselves at the back door of the club, fixing their instruments for the time they go on stage.

—

“Do you get all those insane takes with this old-ass camera?” Ning asks curiously, holding the straightener against her hair as she watches you record Winter, who’s busy tuning her bass and pretending you don’t exist.

“It’s vintage, unnie.” You correct her, zooming in on the blonde girl’s delicate hands and her precise movements against the cords. “It has amazing quality, still.” Because Ningning is still staring, clearly waiting for a more direct answer, you add, “Yes. Pretty Much. Hey Minjeongie, look at the camera so I can get a better shot of you.”

All Winter gives you is an irritated look as she scrunches her nose and shakes her head. The girls enjoy arriving early at their events so they’re able to gather a few minutes of quietude, strictly to relax and focus on not letting the nerves overcome their abilities to shine on stage. You know that— it’s something you’ve seen them do countless times before. You find it adorable how they’d just close their eyes and try to control their breaths, fingers tapping their thighs to ease the anxiety that always comes with the wait of going on stage. No matter how many times they perform, the thrill will always be the same.

Although you don’t mind interrupting Winter’s time of focusing at all. Seeing you won’t give in, Winter scoffs, dropping the bass onto her lap. “Be polite, Y/n. Say please.”

Her intentions are as obvious as daylight. She’s mocking you, defiant like the insufferable being she is. Out of the four girls, Minjeong is the most stubborn, and you’re much alike. She was the one you got into most arguments with, none of you backing down from the opportunity of being right.

Said banter is the reason you turn and adjust the camera focus to Ningning, instead of giving in to the blonde girl. Yizhuo looks pretty as always, smiling at you as you kneel to get a take of her from a better angle.

You’re immediately interrupted by the same girl who was irritated by your presence just seconds ago. In a blink, Winter’s hands go to your chin, forcing you to face her with an assertive grip. “No. Film me.” Her porcelain skin shines against her dark eyes, who pop out even more, making her intimidating aura stand out in the small room as she adds with an icy, commanding tone, “And have manners.”

God, you’d gladly take her down just to get rid of that cocky tone.

“Stare at the fucking camera so you can have some decent solo shots, Winter unnie.” Your reply comes immediately, tone dripping with venom, “Please.”

Winter’s face is so red you’re afraid she’s going to combust at any second. She never spares hurtful words during arguments, and you’re ready for her to give it all. Disaster is set to happen until Giselle pops her head backstage, looking for you. Her eyes disappear and her cheeks flare up as soon as she meets your face, breaking the tension with a smile once her presence unintentionally ends the small battle you were having with Winter.

“Y/n!” She calls, handing out her hand to help you stand up. “Could you come help us with the drums, please? The guys from the bar are trying, but they’re so damn useless… We need you.”

You look away and Winter’s grip on you fades, although her trimmed nails still scratch your jaw as she lets her hand fall to her sides and returns to the couch, tuning her bass as if she had never been interrupted.

“Sure, Gigi. Let’s go.” It’s impossible to not smile back, allowing yourself to be guided through the narrow stairs of the place until you arrive at the stage. You don’t bother saying goodbye to either Ningning or Winter, knowing you’re going back to them as soon as you’re done.

The two younger girls are left by themselves, in silence for the first time since you arrived to pick them up, hours ago. It’s unsettling yet peaceful; not uncomfortable by any means. They’ve known each other for too long by now, so being with each other is more than natural— it’s one’s absence that is unsettling.

After giving her hair a few finishing touches, Ningning turns to her bandmate, pulling the chair beside her as she gestures for Minjeong to sit. Its leather cover is torn and the comfort is long gone, but they don’t mind. They’ve performed in far more awful places anyway.

“Okay, I’m done! Be still while I do your makeup, now, unnie.” Minjeong does as told, closing her eyes while the maknae starts moisturizing her skin.

The silence has Winter’s mind replaying the previous banter nonstop. She tries to stay silent, but the memory of your petty smirk is enough to leave her fuming, pumping with rage.

“Can you believe her, Ning? That fucking bitch, ugh. She’s so insufferable.”

“Oh, definitely.” Ningning smiles, thankful Minjeong has her eyes closed. She lets out a small giggle, still focused on brushing the concealer through her friend’s face. “God forbid someone puts you in your place, right unnie?”

She nearly doesn’t escape the highlighter Minjeong throws in her direction, now laughing freely as she continues with her task.

—

Aespa is a band of many talents.

The girls all met during sophomore year of high school, all trapped in detention for the day (as much as Minjeong would rather die than admit she’s ever gotten detention in her life). Even though they differ in personalities, in a clear contrast of cultures, manners, and experiences — their differences somehow added to each other until there wasn’t something missing anymore. The feeling of longing and loneliness that had accompanied them for so many years had finally ceased. After that, the girls found themselves at peace: the world was finally silent, as long as they were together. No matter how chaotic it was, Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning knew they’d like nothing else but to be together.

Luckily, they all shared two main passions: the love for music and the desire for attention, so being in a band together was something that happened rather naturally. The members all agreed, then, that Karina should be the leader. She was soft-spoken, calm, and had the experience in the industry the others lacked, from being a child model. It was the right decision: the oldest would do anything to protect her girls, and knew just the right people to ask for opportunities. They weren’t famous, nor did they make enough money to live off exclusively from the music, but it was enough, for now.

They had trouble understanding you, though. It was hard to grasp why on earth would they have someone so faithful, so committed to following their every move when they weren’t even famous? They didn’t have money, influence, or anything to offer you whatsoever. Yet you were always there, giving them your endless support without asking for anything in exchange. You could be a handful sometimes, sure, but still… your commitment was something that left the girls constantly wondering.

Because you’re special. The world will see this too, someday. is what you’d always answer, followed by a giggle and a wave of your hand, muttering about how it all wasn’t that big of a deal.

But as Giselle watches you help them relocate their instruments and set the tripods and cameras straight, she wonders if that’s truly it.

“Hey, Gigi.” You smile at her, looking down at the ground once you realize you’re the object of her piercing, focused gaze. “Are you and the other girls ready to go? Everything’s in order here.”

Now isn’t the time for that, though, Aeri reminds herself. As of now, the only thing she should focus on is her upcoming stage. Music is one of the many things she was strict with: she pushed herself to nothing but perfection, no matter where she was performing.

The other girls are quick to follow your call, grabbing their instruments and getting into their starter positions as they’ve done countless times before. They all adjust their mics to the perfect height until Karina is the only one left in the center, tapping hers to make sure she sounds loud and clear. Ningning’s hands fiddle with her drumsticks nervously, paddling along with her whole body— surely from the energy drinks she’s had minutes before, while Minjeong and Giselle stay each on one side of the stage, waiting for their leader’s cue.

Offering free tickets for those who arrived before 11 PM was a great strategy that many clubs implemented to fill up their spaces. And even though you’re well aware the girls are known enough to gather such a crowd without that stunt, you’re glad to have a full house staring at the small stage with expectation.

Karina waits until you’re done with your camera’s finishing touches up to speak, her voice echoing through the noise so easily that your hands stop adjusting the device’s focus to pay attention to her. With a smile so big her eyes grow small, her face is like a beacon, gathering all the focus to herself without the need for a spotlight.

“Goodnight! I’m Karina, and those are my bandmates: Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning.” She points to each of her friends, who bow and wave excitedly, still waiting for her cue. “And we’re AESPA! We hope you like our music, we’ve worked hard on our songs! Please enjoy.”

With that, Ningning taps on her drumsticks, as they’ve done countless times before. Minjeong’s bass and Giselle’s guitar sync with Karina’s voice as soon as they start playing, the melody echoing through the place like physical particles. Music is more than just a part of their lives: it’s who they are, how they express themselves, what they breathe, and it’s easy to forget they’re at a shitty pub and not at a fancy festival. As long as their voices and instruments are harmonizing together, the girls get lost in their passion and nothing else matters.

Even though they’re a new group— barely a year into the industry, original songs are not something that lack from their setlist. The public is screaming, the girls are jumping as they sing and dance along the rhythm and you try your best to capture their best angles, but the distraction in the form of a sin that is Karina prevents you from doing a good job. Her dark eyes glow in the dark, giving her an angelic aura as her strong voice reverberates through the place with ease, despite her shitty mic. It’s an impressive crowd they’re performing for, but she’s only staring at you. Preventing you to breathe or even move, afraid she’d lose her interest and look elsewhere.

No, you’d have none of that. Like all the girls, Karina was yours: you’d share her utter attention with no one.

So you stay at the front line, with your hands holding onto the camera as your head is held up in a frozen frame, looking at her.

You’d always look at her.

—

The afterparties are always one of the girls’ favorite events. The adrenaline rush is still present, giving them tons of energy to drink and party with strangers. They are constantly showered with compliments, being pampered, and indulged with all the attention they crave. It’s part of the reasons why they deal with music, obviously: Minjeong, Giselle, Ningning, and Karina. Because the desire to be seen and recognized for their music is a feeling they’ve been looking for ever since they can remember.

And that’s exactly what they were indulging in before hearing a loud crack from outside of the backstage room. The noise, followed by a bunch of ugly screams, startles the four girls, who exchange a quick, worried glance before storming down straight into the sideway alley.

“Damn.” Ningning whistles, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the smile coming from her lips. At her side, Minjeong and Karina are equally shocked and frozen at the scene unraveling in front of them.

People usually use the dark alley to smoke and get a break from the noisy, heated space of the club. Instead, the four girls find a huddle of girls so entwined with one another it’s hard to tell how many there are. Four, maybe five? Of them are vividly screaming, kicking, tugging, and pulling hairs. Despite the mess, the girls realize there’s one that keeps beating the shit out of them, which is impressive due to being gravely outnumbered.

As the commotion stops for seconds once the strangers become aware of the newer company, it’s easier to tell a specific head of honey hair apart from the others.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Minjeong’s murmur doesn’t come off nearly as disappointed as she intends to. If anything, she’s also holding back her laughter while you prove that one does not need that many muscles to win off a fight.

“Go Y/n!” Karina claps, cheering. None of the three girls make any move towards the scene, so Giselle turns her head towards them in disbelief.

The Japanese girl shrugs, quickly making her way onto the ground to break off the fight. She’s always been strong, and her time spent at the gym pays off as she grabs you by the waist and throws you over her shoulder, heading back to the backstage room as if you weigh nothing. Any attempts of resisting are useless, yet you don’t make Giselle’s job any easier— your kicking and screaming are now directed at her, hands curling into fists while you use your entire strength to hit her muscled back.

“Put me DOWN! I’m not done with those whores.” Your feverish voice is ignored by the four girls, who are used to your tantrums by now.

They know you’re naturally provocative, and never one to back down from a fight, even if you were in the wrong. And, somehow, you were good at it too: even if you left bruised and scratched, your opponents would somehow always turn out worse.

“Sorry ladies, we have some issues to deal with. If you excuse us.” As the group goes back inside, Ningning offers the poor beaten-up girls a calculated smile before closing the door on their faces. She doesn’t bother to check in on them— they’re strangers, after all.

You’re thrown onto the worn-out sofa with little care, suddenly staring at four serious faces. The funny atmosphere of the fight is long gone, so you cross your arms under your chest and grunt, face held high to put up with their judgmental looks.

This is their job, and they can’t have you causing trouble over anything. You’re associated with them by now, whether they like it or not. It’d be an awful occurrence.

“So, troublemaker, tell us.” Giselle is the first to speak, brushing the bangs out of her face. Even after carrying you for solid minutes, she still looks flawless, much different from your disheveled self. “What had you beating their asses out there?”

There’s a pout on your lips, and the defiant air in the room stirs up their nerves. It’s an annoying interruption of the fun they were having just now, and the alcohol makes it hard for them to stay patient.

Minjeong takes half a step forward, her hands messing up your hair even more. “Speak, Y/n. We have better things to do.”

She doesn’t coddle you, tone cold as it always was when directed towards you, but you don’t mind. If anything, you take pride in making her life a bit more difficult every time. You know they won’t give you their attention for much longer, though, which is why you take a deep sigh.

“I was defending your honor, you idiots!” You gesticulate towards the door, huffing. “Those whores were out there, talking about you, speaking the most vile things… I had to do something. You should be thanking me, and not look so pissed.” You roll your eyes, muttering the rest to yourself as you sink on the dirty couch. “You never acknowledge anything I do anyway.”

It had felt too hot inside, so you passed the backstage area to gather some fresh air at the alley when you encountered the group of girls. They were in love with the band, obviously, and were very vocal about the things they’d let the girls do to them: how their leather clothes were so tight and how hot they were… Hearing such things being said about your girls made your blood boil. They were yours, and no one else had the right to desire them like that. So you were quick to take action and make sure everyone knew who Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning belonged to. As a matter of fact, It was a successful attempt: after the lesson you taught them, those girls would think twice before saying anything again.

Your gaslighting does little to the band; it’s easy to look further into your façade now that they know you. They don’t pity you in the slightest, well aware you’re one to be cautious around.

Karina smiles at your act. She can’t help it if the pout on your lips makes you so adorable, and your crossed arms are the reason your send nudes crop top rides up so your boobs are even more evident. “Which things, Y/n? What were they saying, exactly?”

“What they said doesn’t matter.” You huff, dismissing Karina’s question with a wave of your hand. “The important thing is that they’ve been dealt with, and your honor is intact. You’re welcome.”

The electronic music is loud, and it’s easy to feel the rhythm reverberating through the furniture, sending electric waves to your bones that rile you up even more. You’re energized, ready to go back to the crowd, drink, smoke, and stir up some trouble again.

Aeri must’ve been thinking the same thing since she merely shakes her head and leaves without a word. Ning is the next one to follow, proceeded by Minjeong, who rolls her eyes and points her finger right at your face.

“You’re such a menace, Y/n. Acting like an animal… you can’t behave at all.” You’re used to the disdain in her voice, so the only thing you do is mirror her snobbish stare as you watch her leave.

Unlike her bandmate, Karina’s eyes are kind— even though you’ve just messed up hard. You’re the only ones left in the room, you realize, as she holds out her hand to you. With her presence, the music ceases, and the only thing you can focus on is the sound of her heartbeat, and how her little chin mole goes up to match her smile, which is equally sweet.

Sweet, patient, and definitely too good for you: that’s Karina, a soul that should stay untouched, not yet ruined by the world and by other people.

Too bad that you’ve never been one to do the right thing.

You navigate towards her in a magnetic motion, taking her help so fast your bodies nearly crash once you get up from the couch. Instead of complaining or making fun of you for being so abrupt, Karina takes her free hand to your face, cupping your cheek before carefully wiping the dirt from your skin.

“Troublemaker.” She repeats Giselle’s words from earlier, although they sound almost reverent when said in her raspy voice, tired from the crazy routine they live with. “She’s a bit right, don’t you think?” The smirk on her lips is playful, and she toys with you. “You keep us on our toes, for sure. I guess someone has to.”

She doesn’t mind. If anything, Karina misses your presence when you’re gone— which is thankfully, a rare occasion. Sure, you’re stubborn, spoiled, and very annoying, but the band somehow needs you to keep their engines running. She knows the other girls feel the same way about you too, even if they’re good at not making it known.

Being with Karina feels right. She’s Aespa’s peace, their leader, and their oldest member. And, just like everybody that has ever met her, you long to be around the older girl.

“Let’s go back to the party, Jimin unnie.” You tell her, crossing your arms behind her neck. If there’s anything she’d want you to do, you would. Gladly. “I want to dance.”

She smiles back at you, looking at the half-open door before nodding. “As you wish, Y/n.”

—

Aespa’s hotel room for the night is precarious, to say the least. The wallpaper is peeling from the walls, the furniture is dusty— and the small dining table seems to barely handle your laptop and media equipment. The bed makes too many weird noises at the slightest movement, and the smell of mold is a bit unsettling for those with a decent sense of smell.

It’s Minjeong’s job to deal with their spending and to book their stays, whenever the band wanders off their hometown. Her father works as a treasurer at a well-established company and has taught her how to handle her own money from a young age. Sometimes, though, she tends to spend too little, given the fact that they still did not earn much with their performances, and the five girls would end up in situations like the current one. Not that they truly minded: they had two rooms to sleep in and breakfast by the morning, which was more than enough. They would handle the rest.

Karina, Giselle, Ningning, and Minjeong are all rockstars, it’s natural for them to thrive under attention. They live for it, and you love to record their pretty faces. Out of all the experiences of being with the girls, getting to take pictures and videos of their performances and looks— be it before, during, or after their shows. Editing might also be a pain and sometimes feel like a chore, but it was also something you enjoyed doing.

Besides, the praises and the proud, enamored look Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minjeong gave you whenever you updated something new to their channel and social media was something you looked forward to, naturally. In fact, you’re so focused on your task that you barely notice a sudden wave of hot breath on your shoulder.

“How far are you, yet?” Karina’s wet hair clings to your neck as you breathe in her post-bath scent, so refreshing. You’re unable to see her sulk behind you, but her whiny tone is enough for you to figure her feelings out before she adds, “Also, why am I the one with the least videos, Y/n?”

You don’t even stop your work to look at the vocalist, who stares at your laptop’s screen with expectation: the answer is obvious to anyone who has ever had the privilege of getting to know Aespa's leader."

“Because I’m always too busy looking at you to focus on anything else.” The words leave your mouth immediately, exposing facts. “But I’ll improve for next time if that’s what you wish.”

Doing anything after Karina opens her mouth is impossible. Her angelic voice and sharp moves draw all the attention to her immediately; one would be completely insane to not be mesmerized by her. By all of her.

“It is.” She nods, still so close you’re able to feel her body pressed against you through the chair’s cracks. Like a kitten, Karina purrs, finally breaking the tension between you by pressing small, wet kisses to your neck. “Y/n…”

You’re doomed. You’ve known that ever since she left the bathroom, with wet hair and red, swollen lips that did little to hide what she was up to while the shower was running.

Karina’s long, purple-painted nails scratch your neck, forcing you to pay attention to her— as if you’d do anything else. You’re quick to comply, closing your laptop as you stand up and walk away from the oldest member, onto your backpack. Her confused brows are adorable, but the realization comes soon once she reckons the camera on your hands. By then, there’s a dirty smirk on both of your lips; you know she loves this as much as you do.

“Are you up for another show, doll?”

Karina nods, suddenly shy from all the dirty thoughts going through her head. Her skin throbs, and there’s a familiar sensation building up in her core from the anticipation.

After waiting for the camera to be well adjusted and centered in front of the bed, with the familiar red dot announcing the recording, she turns around, removing her robe with practiced ease. The silk fabric of her robe cascades from her back, exposing her milky skin in its most perfect form. She’s indeed like a doll; body still untouched, announcing it’s been a while since she’s had any fun, and her Venus dimples flare up with every step she takes towards the bed. Her curves are perfectly enhanced by her sensual walk— she knows so, grabbing her hair out of the way so you’re able to get a clear shot of her body.

You’re so lucky to even have the privilege of looking at her. Karina seems to think the same thing; her knowing smile turns malicious just as she sits on the bed, spreading her legs out for your delight. Playing around with her is almost a routine, by now: Karina needs something, someone to be her stress-relief, and you’re more than eager to help.

However, seeing her bare and so eager to welcome your touch was something you’d crave forever. No matter how many times it happened: you’d always be hungry for the slightest glimpse of her pretty pussy.

And it was no secret that Karina loved to show off, so you drink on her like you haven’t had a single drop of liquor in ages.

It had indeed been too long.

“How do I look, baby?” Her voice is soft, calm as she looks deep inside your eyes and taps on her pussy with two of her fingers. A small strand of wetness lingers between her fingers and her slit, and she takes her fingers forward to make a show for seconds longer. It’s only when the strand dissipates that Karina brings her fingers into her mouth, taking them in ever so naturally. You don’t even register the whine that comes from your lips once she releases them with a ‘bop’, right after licking them clean.

“Absolutely stunning.” Your answer comes in a heartbeat, which pleases her deeply. In a blink, you’re in front of her on the bed, although still careful to not cover up her frame for the camera. Not that you have to worry about that; Karina is well aware of her best angles. “As always.” You lick your lips, eager to have your mouth on her, licking every part of her body until she’s more than satisfied, coated with your saliva.

But you know better than to touch her without permission, so you simply wait, aware she needs more indulgence than merely a few words. You run your hands up and down her legs, ever so obedient, hoping she’ll allow you to touch her.

Instead, her fingers go up to her chest, groping her big, voluptuous breasts. She’s so evil— Karina knows how obsessed you are with her boobs, “You caused so much trouble today, Y/n… I shouldn’t let you touch me at all.”

Her feigned innocence only adds to your desire, dampening your pussy even more. Even though you’re burning up, you can’t help but be in awe by how much of a goddess she looks, and it takes everything in you to not just grab her by the ankles and suck on her clit until she was screaming and leaking white from her pussy. Still staring at you, Karina twists her nipples and moans, biting her lip as she breathes in deeply.

You’re already throbbing yourself, and she’s done nothing. That’s the amount of power she has over you.

“I’ve been bad.” You nod almost eagerly, ready to do whatever she commands you to if it means you’ll get to pleasure her. “Can I still have you, though? Promise to make you feel super good.”

At first look, Karina might be the most inviting one out of all of the girls, but you know better than to fall into her trap: just like her bandmates, the leader thrives on playing games, manipulating people, and fooling around. Thankfully to both you and her, you’re happy to indulge in all of her wishes. So you add, battling your lashes at her as you take off your clothes yourself, not bothering for a command on this matter. “I’ll do my best for unnie…”

Karina’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body; it’s so empowering to know she’s just as affected by you, and she runs her fingers through your hair with practiced ease. Taking her silence as an encouragement, you lie down until your face is lined up with her soaked cunt, blowing warm, rapid breaths onto her sex.

She smiles, then, caressing your cheek before giving it a light tap. “Go get the strap, baby.” Your smile fades immediately, and you contemplate ignoring her words until she’s changed your mind before your cheek is met with more of Karina’s fingers, her touch stronger this time. “Now.”

You huff, muttering incoherences because she’s such a bitch, ruining all of your plans, but still do as told, grabbing the strap without much further fussing. With the toy in hands, you return to the edge of the bed, staring at her with a puzzled look on your face.

“Are you going to use it?” You ask, curious. Taking Karina’s cock was something you always looked forward to, and the sight of her pounding onto you was enough for your walls to clench, eager to welcome her.

Karina launches forward before you even finish your question, grabbing your thighs with practiced ease as her fingers brush your pussy. The surprise touch makes you let out a loud moan, which stirs up a laugh on the older girl.

“If only you’d behaved today… I had so many things planned for us to do.” Karina’s voice sounds almost regretful, making you kneel once again, “No, baby. Tonight’s only about me. Now suck.”

There’s little time for you to think her thoughts through. Your mind goes blank, and you open your mouth to give her a show this time, reversing the roles. Always eager to please, you gag on her cock. Saliva drips onto the sheets as she shoves it down your throat, but you don’t seem to care, emptying your mind to give her will over you to use you like a toy. She’s not sweet or slow by any means— Karina’s innocent smile, welcoming posture, and puppy-like personality make a good disguise for hiding how dirty she is. Part of her tells herself it’s wrong, and that’s why she tries to reject how much her body craves rougher actions, but the truth is that the hiding and the expectation also turn her on.

Those thoughts hover in your mind as you bob on her strap, looking at the leader through your lashes while you gather all your focus on giving your best for her. You try to look your best, and give your best for Aespa’s leader: she deserves nothing less, after all. It seems to be enough for Karina, who sighs at the sight of you staring from behind your lashes with your hair all over the place ever since her tangling hands went to your scalp, encouraging you to keep going for so long you’ve lost track of time.

“Beautiful. You look so beautiful like this, baby.” She murmurs with a low, sultry tone as she takes the strap from your mouth and seals your lips in a slow kiss. You’re starved for her; your boobs press together when you deepen the kiss, desperate for more. At this point you’re already soaked, leaving a deep, wet spot on the sheets— and your skin burns. “Don’t be rude. Say thank you.”

Such a tease, she is. You roll your eyes at her trying to rile you up, and she laughs. “Don’t even.” You mutter, rolling your eyes at her.

Karina’s hands go to your thighs, caressing your skin as she motions for you to get up once again. “You’re so stubborn.” She chants, adjusting the strap on you. Per her request, you lay back on the bed as soon as you’re done, somehow managing to sink under the shallow pillows.

There’s such a mean smirk dancing around her lips. Your cunt aches and it’s borderline painful; sweat covers your body and you’re nearly sure you’ll go insane if you don’t give her all the pleasure she’s worthy of very soon. All you want is to eat her out until she’s breathless, porcelain skin all marked begging for you to stop. Then, you’d lick her clean, making her cum so many times there’d be plenty of milk dripping from her hole for you to drink on. All yours. She’s all yours to tend to.

“Why don’t you just let me do it already…” You whine, drawing your head back when she grabs one of your nipples and twists— the friction feels so good it sends a hit of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Instead of indulging your needs, Karina laughs, and there’s a hidden mockery in her tone that only adds to your frustration. She comes close until her hips rest on your thighs, with the strap being the only thing that keeps a distance between you. Before you’re able to test her patience even more, she positions the dick on her entrance, slightly rocking back and forth so it hits deliciously against her clit.

“You can look.” She says, grabbing your shoulders to steady herself. “But you can’t touch. Understood, baby?”

Karina’s eyes, big and expressive, stare at you with feigned innocence as one of her hands caresses your jaw, lifting your face so you’d stare at her. Having her making such luscious sounds so close to you is like a death penalty. Karina’s mouth hangs slightly open, and you gulp whenever she aligns the fake dick with her entrance, giving you a serious look that makes it clear that she expects an answer to her command.

A huge bitch, she is. A hot, sexy, and huge bitch. It’s nearly impossible to stay still, but you can see the challenge in her eyes as soon as she cocks her head at you. Although her little act of defiance is silent, her intentions are as clear as day: she wants you to humiliate yourself: to beg for forgiveness so you’ll maybe get granted the privilege of touching her.

So you smile back, placing your hands on your hips and doing nothing else, even if you’re itching to run your tongue all over her body. “As you wish, unnie.”

Karina is so wet, of course she is— it’s not hard to leave her drenched. The dick slides in easily, and she takes her time with taking down its inches. Your grip on her hips turns slightly stronger at the sight of her looking so angelical, as her big, soft boobs are all in display to your face. That earns you a censoring look, and you move your hands with another eye-roll. There's nothing more you want but to touch her.

After a few breaths, Karina finds a steady pace, bouncing on your lap. The gushing sounds of her pussy that echo through the room are nearly pornographic, and you find yourself letting out desperate whimpers, too.

“So good.” She murmurs, lost in pleasure. Her grip on your shoulders tightens, and you feel her muscles tensing up.

You can’t help it— watching her pleasure herself is almost too much. Without much thinking, your fingers make their way to her clit, circling her hardened as you study her, testing out the waters. She lets out a gasp at the sensation, closing her eyes to enjoy the way her lower abdomen kept building up the tension. The tingling sensation increases with the rhythm of your strokes, along with her moves, and it doesn’t take much further for Karina to cum.

Just as always, Karina’s strong voice fills the room as she takes her head back, clenching her pussy once the waves of pleasure hit her with strong motions. Her entire body trembles, and she relies on you to keep her steady.

“You look the prettiest when you cum.” You tell her, after a few moments of silence.

The laugh she lets out is weak, more like a giggle as Karina sighs deeply, carelessly throwing herself on your side of the bed. She turns to you, then, so close your noses are nearly touching, disregarding your words as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “And you can’t ever behave, can you?”

You mirror her smirk, pecking her lips before shaking your head. “You like it that way, though.”

The two of you stay in a comfortable silence, one you don’t mind at all. The girls have had some busy, tiring weeks, and you know Karina needs rest. She’s tired—they all are, so the tension relief was well welcomed by the oldest girl. Despite being all sweaty and breathless, Karina is much less anxious now that you’ve helped her relax. She runs her fingers through your body, taking her time until she reaches your pussy. It delights her to feel how soaked you are: she’s aware of the amount of power she holds over you, and the fact that you’re gulping, still throbbing yourself, is something so empowering to her.

It makes her insides tingle all over again, asking for more.

“Jimin…” You whine again, opening your legs to give the girl better access to your entrance. You need her to touch you or else you’ll explode.

Two of her fingers enter your cunt before you can cry any further, hitting a fast pace without warning. The action is well welcomed, and you hold her wrist, motioning to go further. But Karina loves to make you frustrated; it’s almost as if she thrives on it: just like they made their way inside, her fingers are gone, and her mean smirk is back.

“You haven’t behaved at all today.” She repeats herself, laughing as she kisses your pout away. You bite her lip in response, which makes her pull your face away, although she’s still giggling. “You’ll get nothing tonight, baby. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at her, “You’re such a fucking liar! You’re not sorry at all!”

Karina turns her back to you, making a show of ignoring you as she grabs the covers just as a big yawn hits her. “Goodnight to you too, pretty. Sleep tight,” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a sneaky remark when she adds, “Oh, and don’t forget to turn off the camera. We don’t want you running out of battery or anything, do we?”

“You’re such a bitch.” Although you still get up and do as told, knowing she’s partially right.

Karina waits patiently for you to return to bed, with her small eyes and big smile. The sensuality and roughness from earlier have been replaced by her usual bubbly self, which you adore just as much. It has always been amusing to you how easily it is for her to just switch back and forth from the luscious, gorgeous woman she is to her puppy personality, and you adore her either way.

You hop into her arms, humming when she fills your neck with small, wet kisses.

“You have to behave, silly.” Is what she tells you, biting your skin gently. You’re one to bruise easily, you both know it as much. However, you say nothing, allowing her to do as she pleases. “Otherwise you won’t get a reward.”

“We’ll see about that.” You murmur, happy to get lost in her cuddles. “I sure need something after that torture session.”

Your words cause you to be pushed back, although you know Karina’s only joking.“Oh my God! Go to sleep, Y/n. Goodnight.”

“Ugh.” Is all you answer, closing your arms around her waist.

“Y/n.”

“Right, right.” You sigh, “Goodnight, cutie. Can I get a kiss?”

The hand that goes through your face is enough of an answer.

“Sleep. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.” She commands.

And because it’s Karina, you obey. You’d always hail the band’s leader.

Your personal camgirl.

—

Breakfast has always been something you’d skip if you could. It’s a pain to wake up so early, and you need at least an hour to be somewhat presentable and another two until you can properly talk to anyone. However, the soon you leave this shitty hotel the better, so you resume sitting beside Giselle and Ningning while they talk excitedly. You chew on your bread with scrambled eggs with perhaps too much patience, still marveling at how composed they look despite running on 5 hours of sleep.

“So, we’ve got good news. Amazing news, actually. Like, the greatest news ever.” Ningning’s nearly jumping in her seat, her eyes darting from you, then Giselle, Minjeong, and finally to Karina multiple times in seconds. Yizhuo plays with her hands, nudging Karina while nearly dying of anxiety. “Unnie, would you please tell them? Go, go.”

The excitement in her tone captures enough of your attention; you, Giselle, and Minejong collectively sit up straighter, exchanging a confused look. The fact that they know as little as you do is comforting, and stirs up a nice, warm feeling of being included within your heart. The girls could be harsh and a little mean sometimes, naturally, but there are times when they’re also very sweet.

Karina laughs, pinching Ning’s cheeks. Even though Ningning pretends she despises it, you love to baby her and spoil her rotten.

“You can do it, Ning.” She encourages her baby girl to speak up, loving the smile that brightens up the maknae’s lips after the command. “Go ahead, tell them what we’re doing next.”

With her leader’s blessing, Ningning lets out a happy squeal and launches herself upwards. The upper half of her body hangs on the breakfast table as she looks around before whispering as if the topic is top-secret.

“So, this guy approached me after our show.” She stops abruptly at your reactions, waving her hands, “Hey, don’t make such faces! He wasn’t a weirdo or anything, I promise. Anyway, he came up and said he worked for AKT Music Ent. and that he liked our music and thought we had potential.” Ningning pauses, looking up to her leader for reassurance. Once Karina nods, giving her a knowing smile, she adds, “And then I told him to talk to Karina, of course, because she’s our leader and all… but basically, he invited us to compete at The Box, next month. Can you believe it?”

“You’re fucking with us.” Minjeong answers, in awe. She looks at Karina, with her mouth still slightly open in shock. “Please tell me you’re serious. That this isn’t a joke or anything.”

Karina has a proud look on her face as she nods. “It’s a thing. We’re doing it.”

“HELL YES!” Giselle screams, laughing loudly. She reaches out her arms and squeezes you and Ningning in a tight hug, her embrace so strong it’s borderline suffocating. Not that you mind— if anything, it fills you with warmth to be with them in their first big accomplishment. “WE’RE PLAYING IN THE BOX! OH MY FUCKING GOD. WE ARE AMAZING!”

Minjeong and Karina laugh at her reaction, just as happy from the news. Taking part in the event is an amazing opportunity for them: the mere thought of performing at the stage is enough to give them goosebumps, both of fear and excitement.

The Box is a week-long competition where the top 3 winners get a 2-year long contract, each signed with one of the Big 3 music companies of the country: SM, JYP or YG. It’s an elite program where successful bands have gained popularity and recognition, like SNSD. It’s set at a big, open area at the countryside and held much like a festival: the event has become more and more capitalized with every passing year. The companies make sure to hold a big show out of the entire thing, broadcasting the events that happen simultaneously 24/7— numerous interviews, commercials are shot by the participants to support the sponsors of the competition, which helps them to make their debut on national television. There are various foods, restaurants and parties being held at all times. It’s also a great opportunity for fans of nugu bands to personally interact with them, and actually super nice to meet other bands and artists. Besides the main goal, being at the event alone is a huge honor and opportunity for the band to grow as artists. They certainly won’t take for granted.

Minjeong claps excitedly. “We need to celebrate!”

“Absolutely.” Giselle agrees, looking with disgust at the men who kept sitting at the nearby tables even though it was still fairly early, and the Diner was still empty. “At home, though. Let’s get out of here, please.”

The five of you exchange a knowing look, collectively getting up at the same time as you grab your belongings and hurry to leave the shitty hotel. Your hearts are filled with pride, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

“You deserve this.” Is what you tell them, breaking the steady silence that reigned in the car. The girls look at you, all returning from dreamland.

Even though their only response is a faint hum, the satisfaction on their faces tells you they needed to hear that. “This is only a result of your hard work. All the hours of practice, the shitty-ass places you played at before, the No’s you’ve gotten… It’s going to work out, trust me.”

Karina’s arms go to your neck, in a gentle caress as she adds, looking at her bandmates. Her best friends. “Y/n is right. We got this.”

Rubbing your lips together, an embarrassed, close-lipped smile puffed up your cheeks. Resting your chin on your closed fist and poked at your breakfast, suddenly no longer in the mood for the slightly soggy chocolate chip waffles and hash-browns.

Stomach turning, you looked away from the table of your fellow counselors into the deep woods that cradled your only civilization for the next two and a half months. The trees were lush this time of year, branches hanging low and providing a luxurious shade over the whole camp; save for the lake, most of the sandy beach surrounding it, and the designated archery area. You could smell the sticky sweet sap leaking from the trees, thick in your sinuses, blocking out the smell of anything but it - gods bless for that too, because you were sure you'd only be able to smell your and the other's sweat if not for it.

When the conversation hit its peak, you slid off the end of the bench, making your way back to the kitchens where two of the younger campers were sitting on the counter, chatting lowly. You smiled, beckoning them to hop down from the counter.

"Not that I care," You whispered with a giggle as you passed by them, noting with joy the tri-colored flag pin on the taller one's shorts. "But if another counselor sees you, it's an infraction, yeah? Come on down."

They grumbled softly, murmuring their displeasure about the rules but thanked you anyway as they slid off the stainless steel counter and made their way out.

You scraped what was left of your food into the big trash bins, trying not to beat yourself up too much for the waste of food - wouldn't do any good to make yourself sick and embarrass yourself even more, especially in the first week.

Dropping your dish into the wash bucket, quickly retracting you hand and flicking the soapy water off, you left out one of the side doors of the kitchen, scampering back to your cabin. You skirted around the edge of the camp, mostly trying to avoid the rest of the counselors while you still felt the lingering touches of embarrassment grabbing for the back of your shirt, intent on unpacking before anyone else was done with their lunch.

Thankfully, the cabin was empty when you opened the mesh screen door, an AC unit humming away in the corner - gods bless. Your luggage was already stationed by a bed, a welcome basket on top of your suitcase with a light green envelope addressed to you. Flipping it over, you popped the silver wax seal open, eyes roving over the contents inside.

Greetings and salutations to our newest friend and counselor on Team Sparrow, and welcome to Camp Sanguis!

Here at our camp we try our very best to provide a fun and safe environment for all, campers and counselors alike. As a counselor it is up to you to ensure that our campers know to be respectful and kind not only to each other, but to the land on which we temporarily reside, this is a very special and important place and it should be treated as such.

While you are here, please be sure to enforce and follow these important guidelines as to best ensure that everyone has a fun experience and that the land is cared for.

1) Any hiking is to be done in the day time and all hikers must stay on the trails. The forest in this area can be very treacherous so we don't want anyone getting lost. If you find yourself beyond the beaten path, please use your walkie-talkie and select the first button on your number pad - it will dial the main radio in the Central Cabin.

2 ) NO ONE, including counselors, goes into the forest alone at night. If absolutely necessary, you must go in groups of two or more.

3) Be sure that all windows are closed and doors are locked at night as we don't want anything unwanted (such as raccoons and spiders) getting into the cabins if we can at all avoid it.

4) All fires must be properly put out with no embers remaining before the Counselors are free to retire for the night.

5) Any waste is properly disposed of and all facilities remain clean and tidy. If you have any questions on how to dispose of certain products like batteries or anything with blood on it (tissues or feminine products), please see me or one of the other lead counselors.

6) There are full first aid kits in every cabin and smaller aid kits provided to each counselor, familiarize yourself with their contents and always be ready to tend to any injury, big or small.

7) Lastly, as it is one of the highlights of our time here, scary story night is mandatory for everyone.

Please enjoy your time here at Camp Sanguis and try to make the very best of it, it is guaranteed to be a summer you will never forget.

Everything in the basket was personalized to you, toiletries of your favorite brands, snacks, and several t-shirts denoting your counselor status and the group you were apart of, the Sparrows, who would be leading all the crafting activities; painting, knitting, sewing and embroidery, macrame, jewelry making, and scrap-booking.

A smile crept to your lips, heart warmed by such a kind, thoughtful introduction; placing the letter to the side as you began to unpack the welcome basket, sorting everything into piles. Then your suitcases, organizing everything on the bed - storing your bags beneath it.

Your fingers twitched, dropping your personal journal just as you were about to store it in your top nightstand drawer. You grabbed it with a sigh of frustration, flipping it over to find your entry about the… shadow… from last night.

With a frustrated curse, unhappy to be reminded of your social faux pas, you straightened up; only to have the flesh wrapped over your spine ripple as you swore you felt fingers tracing over your spine. Quick to turn around, your face only tightened when you found no one in the room, only the vast forest stretched out on the other side of your window.

Against your better judgment, and the memory of at least ten horror movies wriggling like swarming maggots in the back of your mind - chattering their warnings at you - you stepped towards the window. A layer of dirt clung to the corners of the foggy pane, years of improper cleaning rendering it permanently dusty, but the brightness of the forest was still more than breathtaking despite that. Though, you knew it wasn't crusty dirt that plucked its fingers over your spinal chord, playing your anxieties like a poorly strung fiddle.

Tugging your sleeve over your hand, you attempted to wipe away the dirt in the center of the pane - to no avail. Unworried, it was the daytime after all, you stepped away from the window and to the screen door, swinging it open to scan the treeline with fresh eyes. Something prickled behind your eyelids, a warning fluttering in your skull; but still…

Fear didn't tease your heart like you were expecting, and as far as you could tell, paranoia was not waiting just around the corner to snatch you up in its unforgiving grasp. Something was wrong though. You knew something was staring at you from beyond, but…

You supposed you just couldn't be bothered.

With a sigh, you stepped back in, letting the door swing shut behind you. You picked up your journal, placing it in the top drawer alongside your notebook, sketchbook, and pencil case. The next drawer was for your shirts and shorts, the bottom one for two hoodies, your pants, and your toiletry bag (now with your new additions). The snacks stayed in the basket and were placed on top of the nightstand, on the opposite side of your bed, lest you be compelled to a midnight snack.

Your fingers drifted to the pamphlets you'd tossed on your pillow earlier, you'd studied the provided map extensively on the bus ride up, especially making note of all the phones and first aid boxes. There were two in the kitchen, big white metal boxes with the white cross inside a red box, "First Aid Kit" pasted in big bold letters beneath it - reassuring, to say the very least. Those things did not come cheap, and the one you had checked was fully stocked and still in-date.

There was at least one indicated first aid box in every building, an extra two for the physical activity areas. Not only that but every counselor was given their own plastic first aid kit. You'd heard two of the counselors, one of whom you remembered being one of the archery leaders, complaining about how overkill it was.

"A little blunted arrow to the calf never killed anyone," He had complained.

He was stupid, you had thought. Even a blunted arrow can kill someone. It would have no issue seriously injuring a teenager.

You laid the map open on your nightstand, using your mini-lamp to anchor it open. Brushing your bed free of imaginary dirt, you grabbed a change of clothes and your toiletries bag, snagging one of the towels on a shelf where your name was labeled, intent on heading towards the showers; you figured no one would be in there yet and you'd like to have your first shower at camp solo - especially with the counselor showers being unisex.

Sliding on shower flops, you made your way to the communal showers, relieved to find that there was, indeed, no one using them yet. You chose the first stall, setting down your shower caddy in the corner before dropping your clothes and placing them on the built-in shelf on the opposite side of the wall where the sinks were. When you turned the hot water knob, you were pleasantly surprised to find that it not only immediately pumped water, but the water was actually hot!

A quick adjustment of the temperature to your liking and you were happily bathing in the steaming warmth, humming to yourself and wishing you had brought your phone to play music. There was hardly any reception up this far but hey, that hardly mattered when you had countless gigabytes of music stored.

You took a bit longer than you know you should have before turning off the water, shaking yourself dry before reaching blind around the tiled wall, wet hands brushing over your clothes before meeting your towel. Toweling yourself dry, you made sure to get every inch before you grabbed your clean set of clothes and tugged them on.

The towel ended up draped over your shoulders, dirty clothes tucked under your arm as you flip-flopped your way back to your cabin. When you got there, the rest of your group had congregated, some unpacking, others sitting side by side on a bed chatting casually. Ducking your head, you tried not to make eye contact with anyone as heads turned your way.

Dropping your dirty clothes in the laundry basket hooked on the end of your bed - brow furrowing when you only saw your shirt and pants flop to the bottom. Stepping forward, you reached your arm into the basket, jumping a bit when your name was called. Looking up, a taller woman stood in front of you, sun-kissed skin and dark, braided hair. She was stunning, white tattooed stars dusting her face like freckles, little baby hairs framing her face, her heart shaped lips pulled into a genuine smile.

"Hey, girl! How are you settling in? I saw your basket was already unpacked, did you like everything? I got a few extra snacks besides the ones you listed, I hope that's alright!" She smiled, rounding your bed to stand next to you, leaning one-handed on your foot board. "Did you just take a shower? Good thinking, there'll probably be a crazy line from now until dinner."

"I'm good. Yes, everything was perfect, you must have a supernatural sense the way you got it all right. Yeah, I though the same thing so I figured I'd do it now before it was too late." You smiled back, answering her rapid-fire questions in order, making a mental note to head to the showers later to look for your underwear.

"Oh! Right, I'm Amina" She stuck her hand out for you to shake.

"Yeah, I figured." You giggled a bit breathlessly.

She is so beautiful. And her hands are so soft… but so strong.

"Wow! You've got a strong handshake!" She praised, releasing your hand. Though, you found yourself wishing she wouldn't, wishing she might keep a hold on you for just a bit longer. She was so nice, it was really reassuring; and she didn't give you that weird, half-grimaced look people usually did when they first met you.

"Thanks, was about to say the same for you."

Her smile only widened, dark brown eyes glittering with something you dared not give a name.

"Well," She coughed. "Glad you're settling in okay. Let me know if you need anything. You're the only rookie counselor in our team this year so I'll be giving you extra special attention - Oh! I just mean, I'll be taking good care of you - No! I-"

"It's okay," You giggled. "I know what you meant."

She sighed, smiling down at you. "Well, like I said, please let me know if you need anything. It's my thirteenth year here, eight as a counselor, so I'd like to think I've got my bearings now."

"Will do. Thanks, Amina."

She waved her goodbyes before moving on to chat with the other counselors, gliding across the floor like she was made of mist and silk.

After giving her greetings, welcome-backs, and good-to-see-you-agains, Amina clapped, beckoning everyone's attention; not that yours ever left her.

"Okay! I'm assuming everyone's already made their phone calls out to whomever they needed to, if you have not done so yet, you have an hour before today's shuttle of campers arrives so you can hop-to after our little gossip sesh."

A chorus of giggles rose in the room - warmed by all the moving bodies - and you forced a breathy laugh from your lips; not getting the joke.

"After the campers arrive, Team Eagle will take them to their cabins and they'll get settled in. There'll be some time between then and dinner to mill around and do whatever, get settled, take a nap, go look for your previous campers, whatever. Then we'll have dinner, and after that, the camp wide bonfire!" She clapped excitedly.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, so infectious that you found yourself clapping along. A narrowed glace or two was thrown your way, but most ended clapping alongside you and Amina anyway.

"Remember, team - We won't have to eat together until all the campers have arrived and camp truly starts, so please mingle with the other cabins. I know we all like to stick to those we already know, especially us introverts, huh? But this is a great opportunity to make new friends! There's quite a few new counselors in the other cabins so remember to treat them with kindness and grace like you all were. Okay! Feel free to disperse and mingle as you please!"

Conversations immediately broke out, most dispersing to exit the cabin, some talking about maybe going to skinny dip before any of the kids arrived, others mentioning the other cabin leaders they wanted to meet back up with. You didn't end up catching any other conversations, already a bit overwhelmed - embarrassingly enough.

"Hey," Amina called. "Got any plans? I can give you a for reals tour around the camp, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, I would like that."

Grabbing your map, you folded it back up and stuffed it into your back pocket. The air was cooler outside than it had been in the cabin, despite only having been in the cabin for minutes, you found yourself relieved at the change in temperature and the freedom from the stuffiness - ten people sure can make a room muggy rather quickly.

She guided you down the path to the cabins, pointing to the multiple bathrooms and showers.

"You're already pretty well acquainted with the washrooms, yeah?"

You nodded, thinking it was probably best to just wait to go check for your missing garments, not wanting to make a fuss and confess that you had already lost something less than a day in.

"And I imagine you're already familiar with the kitchens so we'll just move on then."

Past the showers and bathrooms was the small part surrounding the lake where the shore was sand and not dirt, modified years ago after campers kept complaining about tracking mud everywhere. She showed you the hutch with paddleboard, kayaks and oars, pool noodles, and life jackets in it.

The woods grew dense the further right you went, forcing you closer together on the small trail that wound through the treeline. As the trees thinned out again, you came up on a large open structure with several rows of well-used targets lined up on one end and a spray painted line opposite that.

Two men stood in one corner, chatting just loud enough that you could hear them, but not so loud you could hear what they were saying. One, you recognized, was the guy who complained about the blunted arrows. Your eyes narrowed, already feeling a bit grated just being in the same vicinity as him.

The other one called out to the two of you. "Hey! Amina! How have you been? Who's this cutie?"

You grimaced, resisting the urge to step away from him.

"Philip. This is our cabin's new counselor," She introduced you by name, her hand moving to rest on your back. "It's their first year at Camp Sanguis ever, so I'm taking them on a tour."

"Oh, well. You ladies wouldn't mind if I tagged along with you, would ya?"

His voice droned on, but the way you felt a thread pull at your spine like someone had hooked their finger around your spinal chord and given it a little tug dragged your attention away from Philip and towards the shaded area that laid just beyond the archery targets.

"No, thank you, Philip." Amina's voice was sharp as her hand wrapped around your bicep and tugged you away from the large gazebo; realizing you must have missed something very important.

Shadows danced at the corners of your vision, a large hulking man stationary somewhere too far away to point out, momentarily disoriented before your mind situated itself as you got closer to the next building - the greenhouse.

As Amina slowed to a stop by the propped open glass door, she turned to face you. "Sorry about all that. Are you okay?"

"Yeah… I'm sorry I zoned out. Did he say something…?" You prompted, wondering if something vile had slipped from his lips and you hadn't been able to defend her.

"No. Not really. He's just gross. Tries to fuck all the new girls."

"Ah."

"Yeah. Not that you're not stunning or anything! But it's just so annoying." She tossed a glare over her shoulder. "Every year he breaks at least one girl's poor heart, making false promises and hyping them up. Just shameful."

You nodded along, not finding that information surprising. He was an attractive young man, they were usually like that.

"Well!" She sighed after a long moment. "Let's not dwell on that. Here we have the greenhouse."

Ushering you inside, she pointed out all the plants growing, picking a few off the stem and hand feeding them to you as she talked about how they put the greenhouse up years ago to make sure campers got fresh produce in their diet throughout their stay here. Apparently, one of the camp's benefactors paid a few people in the nearby town to watch it on a rotating schedule for a month each during the off season so nothing would rot and ensuring there would always be mature plants to harvest from.

After the greenhouse came the two crafting buildings, then the smithery and the wood shop behind that. At the very least, the few counselor's milling around those buildings weren't as dead set on making a five minute interaction as awkward as possible. The smithing counselor, Johnny, even managed to make you laugh when he told the two of you how he had cut his arm open a year ago when he thought he saw someone through the window while he was cleaning up after hours.

When you reached the conclusion of the tour, skirting around the edges of the camp where the buses would park it was just in time to watch the campers bus pull in. Amina pulled you to the side, hand warm on your shoulder as she leaned in.

"Do you want to meet the campers or would you rather go back to the cabin?"

You hummed in faux-consideration, already knowing your answer. "I'd like to go back to the cabin, I'm sure they're all groggy and tired from the bus ride anyway."

"True, you head on back. It seems I'm the only counselor here," She narrowed her eyes, looking around. "So I'm going to make sure everyone gets to their cabins."

"Oh, do you want help with that? I don't mind staying."

"Nah, it's fine. It's the older campers' bus, so I'm not worried. The guppy bus comes tomorrow."

"Okay, we get our walkie-talkies tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, I'll have 'em in the morning before breakfast for everyone. Justin forgot to account for all the new counselors this year so only the leads got walkies, didn't want it to be unfair." She mimicked Justin's low voice, waving her hands sarcastically.

"He's in town getting more right now," She continued, escorting you in the direction of the cabins, half-turning to the buses as you finished your conversation. "Should be back by dinner. Philip is gonna help Justin and I get them all set up tonight after the bonfire."

"Oh, do you guys want help? That sounds like a lot of work."

"Sure! I won't deny a chance to hang out more," She winked. "Especially with Philip around, I'd feel so much better with you around.."

"Oh, girl. And I hope you know, I'm so glad you said something, I-" The bus doors hissed, letting campers filter off. You took a step back, "I'll tell you later." You giggled.

"You better!" She called back, already moving for the buses.

A smile sat on your face the whole walk back to the cabins, a warmth in your cheeks that you knew wasn't from the sun. Already, you were feeling much better about this whole experience.

You went in anxious and unsure. It took a while to admit to yourself that your life was falling apart - just a bit, you'd like to think you were holding it together somewhat well - you had been fired from your job three weeks ago, already sweating about how you'd manage your bills the following month. It was pure luck, really, when someone overheard you crying to your mom and told you about a paid camp counselor position over the summer.

Great opportunity, she had insisted with a warm smile. Told you all about how her wife had been a camp counselor years ago when the program first started, how it had expanded to including several more activities, more cabins for more campers - meaning more money, and how it had led to her wife getting a good position as a relations manager because of the sought after experience of working with the younger generations.

It had sounded a lot like fluff to you, but any money was better than no money, so you had applied - blessed to receive a response two days later.

You were not much of an outdoorsy person, but the position paid extremely well, enough so that even after the summer was over, you'd have enough cushion for the next four months - especially since you were only paying rent for the next two months, your car insurance on pause while you were away since you wouldn't be using it, and no grocery bills since everything was paid for up here.

Really, you felt extremely lucky, all things considered.

Back in the cabin, it had cooled down a bit, only two other people inside. They waved at you politely before returning to their conversation.

Grabbing a book from your bag, you got yourself comfortable on the bed, flipping to your bookmark and easily getting back into the text. It was recommended to you by a friend, less than three-hundred pages, an old sixties sci-fi novel. You had really been getting into it, though sometimes the text wasn't digestible enough and you'd have to take a break. The author clearly knew her stuff and you had to stop multiple times to look up words and phrases (some entirely made up).

It did make you appreciate how much you didn't know though, any opportunity to learn new things was more than enjoyable to you.

You weren't sure how much time had passed between starting your reading session and the dinner bell ringing, only aware that you were on the last two chapters before your adventure with Helva would be over. With a begrudging sigh, you bookmarked where you were and tucked the book back under your bed. Sliding your shoes back on, you made your way to the kitchens, keeping an eye out for Amina.

When she was nowhere to be seen, you resigned yourself to getting in the food line alone. As much as you tried not to get irrationally irritated, the chatter around you was raucous and grating, bouncing back and forth between your ears until there was nowhere left to hide.

Hide.

Hide.

You barely culled the instinct to flinch, your eyes drifting to the open door. It faced into the dining area, people already sat at clean picnic tables and benches, devouring their meals and chatting loudly with their groups. That wasn't what your eyes saw.

It was like something had tethered itself to your retinas, drawing your vision to a dark spot in the distance where all light seemed to vanish; leaving the trees in a dark void. Your eyes narrowed, trying to make out what was calling you to look at it, but it was already so far away to begin with - halfway up the mountain and then some.

Your foot shifted out of place only to be unceremoniously shoved back, as the person behind you pushed around you to cut you in line, another following just behind.

"Space cadet can't get it together." He chuckled to the blonde girl beside him, and you both recognized them from the table you had sat at earlier in the day.

An embarrassed heat crawled up your neck and over your cheeks as you turned away from the door and faced forward, now forcing yourself to focus on the line ahead. Counting down from one-hundred over and over as a distraction until you were finally up to grab and serve your plate. You went through the motions, plating the things you did like, ignoring the things you didn't.

Pit-patting down the stairs, you looked for a free spot - pointedly ignoring the one right in front of you where your… 'acquaintances' from early sat - giggling as they looked at you.

The blonde's laugh was the most vicious of all; something about that and the enrapturing blue of her eyes that not only made your heart squeeze with humiliation, but also jealousy. She was so beautiful, perfect skin, rosy cheeks, perfectly red lips (that you had no idea how she could possibly maintain up here), and the perfect, athletic body; slender shoulders and stomach, toned arms and legs, perfectly perfect in every way. It was like everything about her was primed to dig right into your weak spots.

Embarrassment couldn't keep a hold on you for long though, not when you heard Amina calling your name.

You turned toward the source of her voice, smiling when you met her eyes a few tables down. She patted the seat beside her as you approached, pointing at the other people at the table and firing off their names - the only one you were familiar with besides Amina was Johnny, who sat on the other side of you.

It was easy to slide into conversation with them, they didn't even seem to mind the way you stayed quiet to quickly eat your food, letting them do the heavy lifting in the conversation. When the conversation turned to whether or not Justin was going to tell the camp's legend at the campfire tonight, you tuned back in.

"I don't think he should do it tomorrow, even if they youngest kid is eight, I still think that's too frightening. I have faith he won't, though. He didn't do it on the final welcoming day the last few years, I don't see why he'd change that now."

"Aye, ah cannae help bu' agree. One o' tha other counselors said it'd be good tae scare em straight bu' ah think tha's just cruel."

"What's this legend?" You asked around your mouthful of food.

They both paused, Johnny looking at you with a boyish grin, Amira looking at you mirthfully.

"That's right, it's your first year. Well, the story goes-"

"Ye cannae tell them!" Johnny shushed quickly, reaching around you to gently tap Amira's shoulder. "It's tradition tae hear it at the campfire first."

"Yeah, but I remember hearing the other counselors talk-" You were interrupted by Johnny's hand covering your mouth as he shook his head.

"Nope. Nae. Ye havnae heard nothin' yet! All shall be revealed tonight!"

"Okay, okay." You murmured beneath his hands. "I know nothing."

Satisfied, he nodded, removing his mouth and returning to poke at his food. "You'll like it, ah promise. An' if ye get too scared, 'Mira and ah'll be right there tae protect ye." He winked.

"Awh, there'll be nothing to be scared of." Mira countered, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "That story isn't even that scary to begin with."

"Nah, but ah think it's true!" Johnny interjected. "Why else would ye be seeing stuff out tha' corner of your eye?"

"What?"

"Yeah..? Ah overheard ye earlier today! Ye said somethin' about seein' people out tha corner o' yer eye, right?"

"Oh, you mean at breakfast…" You drawled.

"Johnny!" Amira hissed. "That's so impolite!"

"No, it's fine. I mean - he's not wrong. I just didn't know you had heard that."

"Aye, got ears like a bat, ah do."

"Well, whatever the reason. It's not polite to eavesdrop." Amira reprimanded.

Johnny only chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and apologizing to you with a mouth full of food.

As the three of you finished eating, you got up with Amira and took your plates to the kitchen, dumping them in the wash buckets after scraping them off. Waving goodbye to Johnny, you two made your way back to the cabin.

"I'm going to shower really quick before the campfire, you're more than welcome to go over there though. People always set up before we actually start."

"Nah, it's okay. I'm fine to wait at the cabin for you."

"You're too sweet. I'll be quick."

You watched as Amira ducked out of the cabin, laying back on your bed, your feet dangling off the edge - shoes still on since you were too lazy to take them off knowing you had to put them back on soon. Closing your eyes, you let a heavy breath out. It felt like you had done so much today, and you were honestly ready to just kick off your shoes and call it a day. Sleep was calling your name.

When your eyes had opened, you could tell that not much time had passed. The way the sun still peeked through the windows of your cabin - and the fact that Amira hadn't yet seemed to have returned - told you that you couldn't have fallen asleep for more than twenty minutes. Still, there was a weight on your chest, so similar to waking up spontaneously after deep in REM sleep, that it made you jolt.

Or try to, at least.

Your body seemed frozen in time. Looking around, right next to the door, a coagulation of shadows swam in the vague shape of a body. It hurt to look directly at, your eyes drifting away from it as if compelled to, despite how much you wanted to stare it down and know what it was that haunted you.

Fear, though, did not seem to make your acquaintance this time, so unlike the many times you had been plagued with sleep paralysis. Instead, you felt almost calm. Even though you couldn't look the creature in the eyes, something about its presence whispered that everything was going to be alright. It was…

Just like last night.

You remembered it now. Waking up to find a void right by the cabins door. Sleep-addled you had chalked it up to falling asleep in a strange, new place, and brushed it off as nothing more than that. Now, you began to wonder if it was something more that ailed you.

Your sleep paralysis demons had never been so… consistent in their appearance. Shifting in their presentation and the sensations they gave you from night to night. But this one was familiar. You knew, in some strange, psycho way, that this was the same creature.

That comforted you, in a way. Beyond its soothing presence, the fact that there were no other demons (as far as you knew) lurking in the shadows prepared to frighten you, made you feel leagues better.

Parting your lips, you attempted to call out to the shadow. Wanting nothing more in your heart than to know its name. Your fingers twitched, a small squeak rising out of you before you were gone again.

When your eyes opened a second time, there was Amira, crouched next to your head. "Hey, sleepyhead." She called, nudging your cheek. "Ready to go?"

"Mn, yeah. Sorry. I can't believe I fell asleep."

"No worries." She cast a glance over her shoulder, not to the door, but the space right beside it. "I took a bit longer than I intended to anyway. But don't worry, the campfire hasn't started yet, so you haven't missed anything."

You sat up, rubbing at your eyes and stood up on wobbly knees. Amira giggled, murmuring something about 'so cute…' and 'perfect for the…' as she looped her arm in yours.

When your vision finally cleared, you noticed she had two blankets tucked under her arm. "Oh, smart. I should've grabbed a blanket."

"No need, silly. One is for you!"

"Damn, Amira. You're so thoughtful." You praised.

"Nah, it's easy when I've got a sweet little newbie to look after."

A flush rose to your cheeks, a bashful smile tugging at your cheeks as you turned away from her - focusing instead on the path forward. When you made it to the amphitheater built into the side of one of the smaller hills, Johnny was already flagging the two of you down with a bright smile on his face.

You sat next to him with Amira on your other side.

"Either of ye need bug spray? I brough' a bottle cuz my campers always forget."

"Oh, me." You admitted sheepishly. "I forgot to put any on after my shower earlier."

"I'm good." Amira waved as you took the bottle from Johnny's hands, generously spraying yourself down with the sickly sweet smelling spray.

You handed the bottle back off to Johnny and Amira handed the second blanket to you. Eagerly bundling yourself up, you leaned on your shoulder as you watched a few of the counselors set up the massive campfire pit at the bottom of the amphitheater.

Soon enough, it was blazing to life, the excited chatter of everyone echoing about the space. It was soothing, the bright light contrasting with the way the sun had steadily begun to sink into the cradle of the mountains.

"Sorry, love." Amira nudged you gently. "As Sparrow's cabin leader I'm the one who's gotta go up and speak."

So comfortable, you didn't even mind the way she guided you to lean on Johnny's shoulder, blowing a kiss as she hopped down the stone stairs.

"You're not a camp leader, Johnny?" You murmured softly.

"Nah, I dinnae like bein' the big boss in charge. Isnae any fun tae me."

You hummed in agreement, eyes trailing after Amira as she joined the other counselors on the stone platform surrounding the fire-pit. Getting into the introductions, you found yourself drifting in and out of the present moment, more focused on the sound of the blazing fire, the feel of Johnny's hoodie beneath your cheek, the slight, lingering taste of bug spray on your lips. For the first time in a long time, you felt content.

Even Amira's voice wasn't enough to pull you from you floating state as she introduced herself and spoke of what activities she'd be presiding over. It wasn't until a deeper voice echoed behind it that your brain finally swam back up from below the surface and you realized that Amira had already started reciting the camp legend'.

"-It's said that the rivers became blood, churning with rage as man after man fell sick; including Simon's own father. The whole property was abandoned after that, not a soul returned here to take the bodies home - even the police weren't willing to risk the untamed wilds; and the deed? It passed from hand to hand for generations, no one willing to come back to the place responsible for so many deaths.

"It was on the day of his mother's passing, that Simon swore to her that no matter what he would get her revenge and clear out the land so that she might rest in peace. He buried her near the crest of one of the mountains many waterfalls - though no one knows which one, many believe it to be the one that feeds right into Camp Sanguis' crystalline lake.

Years pass and the deed fell into one woman's hands, Dame Laswell, who set up our beloved summer camp. That year his rage came back with a vengeance. Life after life was consumed by his greedy maw, almost taking hers too. But Dame was clever. She said she would give him back the deed if he let her live, promising that no other soul would ever step foot here again for as long as she lived.

Amira's voice became grave as she circled the stage like a preying hawk.

"It was not enough for him. He had a hunger now that couldn't be sated. Simon sunk his claws into her shoulders, telling her he would only let her leave if she promised to bring him food every year from then on out. The world owed him much, and he'd found himself craving that oozing filth that dripped from the pores of every human like her - rotting and selfish inside and out. If she did so, he promised not only would he let her live, but she would be rewarded beyond her imagination.

"And what was she to do? So, Dame agreed, building Camp Sanguis in his honor, offering him eight lives every summer - one for every weekend of camp. No one knows where he resides now, or if he's stayed on this mountain at all. Perhaps he wanders around among us mortals today, stealing souls from right. Under. Our. Noses."

You jumped as the fire roared to life - flames tripling in size and engulfing the space in overwhelming warmth - crackling like thunder as growling seemed to call from all around you.

Johnny chuckled beside you, patting you comfortingly on the back.

"Nothin' tae worry abou', bonnie. Jus' a bi' o' gasoline an' well-hidden speakers." He soothed as you looked around like a spooked deer.

"Oh, right." You chuckled, trying to hide your embarrassment as Amina ascended to the steps.

"So, how'd you like the story? Scary, right?"

"Poor t'ing practically jumped ou' o' 'er skin!" Johnny giggled, his large hands rubbing your shoulders up and down.

"I did not." You grumbled.

"It's okay," Amira smiled, holding her hand out to you. "It got me my first year, too. Happens to everyone."

"No' me!"

"Oh, yes, you." She giggled, tugging you to her side. "I remember you practically peeing your pants your first time. You ready to go?"

Johnny squawked indignantly when you and Amira outright ignored him, descending the steps in near perfect rhythm.

Amira walked hand in hand with you to the main building where Justin was already waiting, dozens of walkie-talkies spread out on a table. He explained how to set them up and you both sat, getting to work so you could get to bed as quickly as possible. Philip joined you not long after, just as your eyelids began to droop.

Set up the connection to the right frequency, check if it worked by paging the main walkie-talkie, and move onto the next. When your hands stilled for a moment too long, Amira placed a hand on your wrist, helping you set the walkie-talkie down.

"You okay? We're almost done. You can-"

A loud scream echoed in the distance, jolting you awake.

"Hey," Amira called your name. "You okay?"

You turned to look over your shoulder to the cabins that all remained lit up and, as far as you could tell, undisturbed. "Did you hear that?"

A heavy thunk followed by eerie silence came next.

"Hear what?"

You pointed to the window with a deep confusion building. "The scream…? The… That thudding sound?"

Amira looked at you with concern.

"Okay, I think it's time to get somebody to bed, hm?"

"Oh, no, but the walkie-talkies…"

"Don't worry about that. We're almost done anyway."

She guided you to stand, pointedly ignoring the shake in your hands and the stiffness in your limbs as she moved you out of your seat and out the main hall. Despite her presence, whispers nipped at your heels, a strange warmth creeping around your ankles, delicately caressing your Achilles heel.

"It was probably just a deer." She attempted to soothe. "They sound way stranger than you'd think. Lots of wildlife out here sounds concerningly human when you don't know the difference."

You wanted to believe her, you really did. It's not like you could really recall what a screeching deer sounded like, so despite yourself, you chose to take her explanation and run with it.

Most of your cabin was already in the cabin when she pushed you up the stairs, the AC thankfully cranked up on its highest setting, keeping the space much cooler than it had been.

Toeing off your shoes, you kicked them away - one tumbling under the bed that you were too exhausted to retrieve. Amira stayed by you as you stripped off your day clothes and changed into pajamas, speaking of honeyed reassurances that went in one ear and out the other.

"If it was really a person, everybody would be freaking out, don't you think?" She said as she watched you crawl onto your bed. "You really don't have anything to worry about. After all, in the many decades this camp has run, we've never had a serious injury, let alone a missing person, or god forbid, a death."

You nodded, eyelids growing heavy.

"Well, goodnight hun. I'm going back to help them finish up the rest of the walkie-talkies."

It didn't take much for you to fall back asleep, cradled by your soft sheets and the chilled room. Nothing disastrous came of your dreams that night, as you had worried. All you had done was take a pleasant stroll in the woods, warmth pulsing in your right leg, a voice calling to you lovingly from somewhere far away, beckoning you forward, and a feeling of deep safety settled in your bones.

End of day two (Unnamed blonde counselor dies here?)

Your third day came and went much like the day before, continuing as a blur. Truly, the only thing you noted was what happened after the sun went down and you tucked in for the night. The only thing that truly seemed out of place was… Well, you could have sworn there was a blonde girl with bright blue eyes and perfect skin in the next cabin over and you hadn't seen her at all today.

She was distant memory that faded as soon as she appeared though, lost in the gentle waves of your other hazy memories.

Darkness still engulfed the sky outside when you awoke in the night, the familiar shadow from last night in the corner of the cabin, right next to the door. Curled on your side, you were in the perfect position to watch as the mass moved, expanding in and out like it was breathing. You couldn't tell if it was fear that gripped your heart - or curiosity.

The only part of your body that you could move was your mouth, though no words that were important enough to disturb the peace in the air came to mind, so you licked your chapped lips and allowed yourself to ease back under the thick blanket of sleep.

It was fortunate, you noted, that no more strange things happened in the following days; at least not that you could remember. It seemed that even the great outdoors could not pull you out of your brain fog. You dared not to be surprised. This was why you got fired from your old job, after all. At least here, there were so many counselors, that one falling behind - especially a newbie - was hardly anything to note.

You went through the motion, getting up early, putting on a smile, hiding your emotional distance by pushing yourself to help whenever and wherever asked, only getting closer to Amira and Johnny as the days went on - successfully playing the role of eager newbie.

Every night though, it came.

You didn't make the mistake of mentioning it to others like you had your first day, keeping its appearances to yourself; and your journal.

I think it was happy to see me last night. Obviously, I can't say for sure but… it was closer than last night and it was so warm. Like a bonfire. If I could have, I would've stripped my blanket off that moment and let him burn me alive. No… Scratch that. Though, I really had felt myself drawn to him.

Okay, last night was… Maybe it didn't like me as much as I thought. It was hunched over the end of the bed, there was something blue held in one hand, and in the other… I think it was… eating a heart? Maybe from a deer? I'm not really sure if that's an omen or not. It probably is but its not like I can look it up and I'm definitely not dumb enough to ask anyone what they think. I'm still kind of sick just thinking about it. I swear I could smell it. It was metallic and… I don't even know. I'd rather forget.

There definitely is something I'm missing. When I came back from lunch, I found a blonde tuft of hair under my pillow, I don't know whose it could be - it was so perfectly cut, tied up with a ribbon - it was definitely put there on purpose. I don't want to think about what the rusty color on the ends are.

It's real. It must be. It sat at the side of my bed last night. I remember feeling its hands caress me, so gentle… I wish I could say I was scared, especially after what it said. "You wanna find out if yer nightmares are real, birdie? Go on, be a little tattle tale." I'm… honestly not sure what that means. I mean, its not like I was going to tell anyone to begin with. Does it know that? Is it messing with me?

After that, it sequestered itself to the door - never moving closer again. You didn't want to say that you were disappointed, but you were. You had grown attached to the shadows that guarded your sleep, a comforting figure that you felt was always just out of sight, nudging you this way and that in your terrarium - helping to keep you upright while you attempted at blending in with everyone else.

It made it easier to complete your day to day tasks, though a part of you did feel like you had blinders on, something in your mind dulling your senses at the edges to make sure you never strayed off the path.

You were excited for this weekends campfire. The one last weekend that rounded out your first week had felt lackluster and had been wholly trampled in mood when later that night you saw… it at the edge of your bed. You shook that thought from your head as Amira dropped you off at your usual spot before bounding up onto the stage. Johnny soon joined you, wrapping an arm around you as he waved at Amira.

Closing your eyes, you chose to enjoy the ambiance, not bothered with forcing yourself to focus when you knew it would only bring on a headache. You were only here to spend time with Amira and Johnny, after all, and to keep up appearances.

You smiled when you felt Amira settled herself down next to you, the blanket you had draped over your legs lifting so she could snuggle herself underneath it - joining you leaned up against Johnny. Your eyes fluttered open, surveying the stone steps with blurry vision - noting that Philip hadn't returned to his seat. Your brow furrowed, as you drowsily scanned the entire amphitheater.

Wasn't Philip supposed to help Justin guide the camp cheer at the end of the bonfire? You wondered, though somewhat unsure as to why you cared so much. He probably just went to pee. Or fuck some poor girl who didn't know she could do better.

A ghost of a shout rattled deep in your bones, snapping your attention to the side. Somehow, neither Amira nor Johnny seemed to notice - or perhaps care about - your alarm. Blood rushed in your ears, a great calling urging you to stand.

"I have to pee." You lied, stifling a yawn and awkwardly moving out from under Johnny's arm and Amira's body; shuffling out from under the blanket and towards the end of your row.

"Oh, I'll come with you."

"No! No- That's fine. Just grab a s'more or two for me, would you? I'm afraid I didn't get my fill of them last week and I don't want them to be all gone by the time I get back."

Before she could protest, you were already taking the stone stairs two at a time, jogging toward the bathroom. You wouldn't ignore it this time. Something in your guts turned when you thought about it, just like when you thought about the girl with blonde hair.

The pounding in yours ears was loud, not louder than the second set of footsteps following in near perfect tandem. You rolled your neck, playing it off as stretching as you raised your arms above your head to chance a glance behind you.

Amira.

Shaking your arms loose, you played none-the-wiser, staring straight forward as you slid into the bathroom. The footsteps didn't follow you in, so you knew she'd be patrolling the front of the open bathroom. Taking a quick scan of the stalls, two of them had opened windows above them. Taking your chances on the one in the furthest corner, you locked the door behind you before going to the bathroom.

Finishing your business, you unlocked the door and walked to the sinks as loudly as you could. Turning on two at the exact same time to try and muffle any noise, you kicked off your shoes, gathered them into one hand, and crept back to the last stall. Climbing up onto the seat of the toilet, you thanked whatever gods were out there that the window was not only massive but it was already opened all the way with no built-in screen.

It was more effort than you would've liked to admit, pulling yourself up onto the window ledge, swinging a leg over the frame, and dropping onto the outside of the bathroom as silently as possible. You checked around the corner while tugging your shoes back on to see if you would be in Amira's sight line before creeping toward the forest line.

Once you made it far enough in, you began frantically searching for the sound of the noise - lamenting the fact that you had left your phone on your bed; even if it got no signal out here, you could have at least made use of the flashlight.

Minutes passed, you guessed - considering the moon had not moved an inch from when you had entered the forest. Indeed, you hoped that it had not been anything more than minutes, especially considering that you felt deep in your bones that you were close to where the scream had emanated from.

Continuing to tell yourself it had only been minutes, lest you accidentally frighten yourself into spiraling and forgetting the whole reason you had come out here.

A quiet groan turned you to the right, hastening toward that direction.

You almost puked when you finally found the source of the noise. Philip had an arrow embedded deep in his skull, mouth opened with shock and slackened with death. Your hand clasped over your mouth as you stumbled back, turning away from his body to try and shut the sight of his shocked corpse out of you mind. A clean kill, but a sick one nonetheless.

You knew it.

Heavy footsteps signaled you to the impending approach of another. Your head snapped up, finding the shadows closing in on…

What was his name again…? His name. His name.

The shadow's closed in on the body. Not knowing what else to do, you turned and bolted, stumbling blindly through the trees, using the moon as a guide to try and guess which way would take you back to camp.

You wanted to tell somebody. To insist that you weren't crazy.

But who will ya tell? Come back ta me, I'll listen.

The whispers didn't frighten you, nor the unnatural warmth that chased you. It was the lack of fear inside you that did. It sickened you too. Shame, for not feeling fear over what happened to either of its kills, rage, at the ruination of something that was supposed to turn your life around, despair, at the swift and crushing understanding that it would all cease mattering soon. The mixture of emotions making your stomach churn in away that made it difficult to stay upright as you crashed through the woods.

Come back, little moth. Straying so far from home.

You dry heaved, slowing down on an inhale only to let out a deep, agonized screech. The sound of metal clanging silenced the forest around you as you collapsed, hands searching for the offending object. A bear trap had closed its tight, metal jaws on your ankle, effectively stopping your escape in its tracks.

Nails digging at the injured flesh like a wounded animal attempting to chew off its own leg, you sobbed deliriously as you realized you had run right into its trap. You should've taken the bus back the morning after that dream. You shouldn't have come here at all. You shouldn't have gone off on your own to find the source of the screams.

You weren't alone for long. Its tendrils came creeping, then it. Warmth wrapped around your ankle, then swallowed up your leg. There was no pain, only relief as you stilled in fear. Looking up at the offending presence, you babbled out senseless apologies.

"Now, pet." It's voice rumbled like thunder in your head. "Where's all this fear comin' from now, huh? Haven' been shakin' like this before, no' once."

"What…?" You simpered.

It chuckled, stepping closer and tugging you back when you tried to scramble away.

"Didn' think all tha' was just dreams, did ya? You're cleverer than that, little moth."

You turned onto your belly, crawling blindly, only to end up crawling between the creatures legs. Swathed in darkness, you couldn't make out which way you were coming from, or which way you had meant to go. Dread mounted high as you slowly looked up to find not a creature, but a man standing over you, a smug look in his eyes - hidden behind a slithering mass on his face that reminded you much of a skull.

The pain in your ankle had dulled to a low, warm throbbing, your head swimming with disorientation. Unwilling to let that deter you, you kept belly crawling forward like a penitent pup, a butterfly without wings, aimless in direction as you dared not face the comfort at your back.

Something heavy came down between your shoulder blades, not painful but certainly harsh still. Pinned in place - a Lepidopteran clade in a glass pain, stuck through with .45 millimeter pins, you only squeaked frightfully, lungs unable to fully inflate under its weight.

"Stay still. Ya've been good so far, I'd hate ta have ta pluck your wings."

Prickling tenderness zipped over your shoulder blades, outward and down in a motion that tingled in every direction. Your spine arched as you let out a broken, strangled moan. The weight left your spine, that chilling voice beating in your mind, sneaking itself into the wrinkles of your mind.

"Keep tha' up and I'll give you a trea' when I get back." It rumbled.

It hadn't felt like you were being given much of a choice; not laid out the way you were, limbs weak with the weight of his shadows still caressing and tenderizing your flesh for it, seeming to slither inside your open wound and up over your bones.

Shame made itself your acquaintance once more when you felt the tender buzz of arousal stir between your thighs, the dizzying, dull pain from your ankle gone, replaced by fresh desire. The being, the nightmare, was nowhere to be seen - though you couldn't do much more than look to the side, your head too heavy to lift.

Despite the nightmare's absence, the touch of many hands stayed your fear, keeping you in a sedated state. Creeping up the backs of your bare legs, caressing the hem of your shorts, slipping under to tease at your wet cunt, probing around both your holes - all while one thick tendril squirmed its way under your flesh through the wounds on your ankle, filling your veins and replacing your blood with its miasma.

More hands than you could count teased every inch of you, one always stationed between your legs while the others groped and squeezed as they pleased.

Floating in the space between here and there, you slowly began to forget where you were, or even what your name was; if that ever really mattered. Lost in the sensations of being so lovingly caressed, you weren't really sure when your clothes had come off.

Or when it had returned.

Or when you had been moved from the forest.

You weren't sure you cared. It could strip you of your flesh now and all you think you'd feel would be sweet bliss - ecstasy in the face of surrender.

Miraculously on your feet now, unable to remember when that had happened, you stumbled forward slowly - resting most of your weight on your injured leg, warmth pulsing in it as the nightmare'svoice called behind you.

"That's i'. Jus' a littul further now, little moth." It encouraged, voice coming at you from all angles, sending you this way and that.

Every time you strayed too far in one direction, there its hands were again, on and in your skin - pushing you back the right way, steadying your path.

"So brave. So frigh'ened."

But you weren't frightened, not even as you crested the hill into a small valley nestled in the mountainside, surrounded by thick pines and firs and found a two story cabin radiating heat. Those hands gripping your bones, helping your forward momentum, moved up into your guts just before you could step past the front gate. The weight churning in your womb sent you crashing down to the soft grass below.

The home was surreally idyllic, a lush, flowering garden out front, a white picket fence caging everything in, clean brick exterior with rising green vines creeping up the corners, a brown, ceramic shingle roof, scalloped trim and eaves, and creamy white shutters with lacy curtains inside the windows.

It was already there, waiting for you - in front of you, behind you, beside you - a promise of what was to come next.

You didn't look back, there would be no point. There was only you and it now.

"You're not going to kill me." Your voice was wobbly, and you were unsure whether you were asking or stating what you already knew to be true.

"No, 'm not."

It- He cut an intimidating figure, large in every way, swathed in shadows. Silence fell over the space, as if you were captured in a time all your own - offset from reality by a mere inch. They congealed together, swarming into a towering storm before dissipating, leaving only a man behind.

Or what once was.

He was too tall, too broad, too pale to be called human. His hair fell in inky tendrils over his shoulders, his eyes the same black pitch as his shadows - just as warm too as they looked you up and down. The sensation alone was enough to straighten your spine, your feet shuffling apart as you subconsciously opened yourself to him.

The smile that spread across his lips was predatory, only exaggerating the jagged line that tugged up the right side of his mouth and pulled all the way up over his eye.

"Yer body already knows wha' your mind has ye' ta learn." He raised a clawed finger, beckoning you forward.

That familiar tugging on your spine brought you closer to him and back onto your feet - puppeted like nothing more than gossamer wings in a glass display.

"Stumbling littul thing." He purred, his hand caressing your face, only barely managing to hold himself back from cutting your face open - a gift - a scar to match his own… "Tap, tapping on the glass of your cage. Led astray so easily by my false light, trapped in my lantern."

Circling you, the beast of the mountains found a deep glee in feeling the way your flesh dimpled under his touches, so much softer and warmer under his hands than his shadows.

"Do you like i'?" He hissed, the shadows squirming inside your body, teasing your sensitive organs, tilting your head forward to look upon the cottage.

You let out a strangled squeak, trying to peek at him from the corner of your eye.

"I asked if you liked i', littul moth." His voice thundered from one source now, right next to your ear.

"Like… what?"

His hands caressed you lazily, appreciating your bare skin; squeezing the more supple parts of you with an appreciative hum.

"Our new home."

You swallowed thickly, thinking of all the possible answers you could give. All the answers that would save you.

"Of course. It's… lovely."

"Is i', now? Is i' everythin' ya dreamed o', pet?"

"Yes."

He hummed in obvious pride. "Are ya goin' ta show me how grateful ya are, pet?"

Though you knew he was mostly the reason you fell to your knees, stretching out before him like a cat in heat, a deeper part of you thinks you would have done this regardless. Debauched yourself just for the praise that you knew would fall syrupy and warm from his lips.

He moved inside your bones still, spreading your legs wide for his viewing pleasure, keeping your arms raised high above your head. There was no strain in your bones, no pain in your leg, only a buzzing pleasure that kept you happily squished beneath his thumb.

"Knew ya'd be an obedien' littul thin'." He mused as his hands curled around your thighs, thumbs pressed into the crease connecting your inner thigh and groin. "Could smell i' on ya the momen' ya arrived."

The tips of his claws slid between your lips, spreading the slick around with a shameful squelch as he held you open, humming appreciatively.

"Perfec' choice, aren' ya?" His voice rumbled in your head as something wet and ribbed wriggled its way into your cunt.

You weren't sure if it was that or the press of his claw against your clit that forced a low, wailing groan out of you, but you supposed it didn't matter. The appendage curled inside you, stretching you out and pressing all the rights spots while his shadowed hands squeezed your intestines together, causing you to gush with arousal. It didn't hurt, the way he toyed with you, not the way you were expecting it to, at least.

What hurt was how empty you felt. Despite the writhing mass inside you - and his shadows insistently rearranging your guts long before other parts of him could - there was something missing.

You whined softly, weakly banging your fists against the soft grass as you attempted to buck back against his mouth. The edge of his teeth brushed against your cunt as he devoured you, drool spilling from your lips as you grunted, chest heaving as you eagerly chased your own release, feeling it build quicker than anything you had every experienced before.

It was overwhelming, the bubbling in your veins - hot and cold all at the same time, sweat beading on your brow, his touch all over you. He beckoned you closer to the edge, tongue working fervently inside you, the ridges teasing against the opening to your womb as he brought you your release.

Even as you began to come down, his tongue did not stop its probing against your cervix, teasing over the spot over and over. There wasn't pain, like you had expected, but the overstimulation still had you begging him to stop; whether out loud or in your mind, you weren't sure.

"Quiet, pet." He hissed, one of his ridges slipping into your unbreached cervix, teasing it open. "Wan' ta be a good wife fer me, don' ya?"

"Wife?" You slurred.

"Tha's righ'. Didn' thin' I jus' brough' ya up here ta warm my bed, did ya?" When you only slurred nonsense in reply, he continued. "S'alrigh'. 'S no' fer ya ta think abou' anymore. I's in my hands now."

As if to emphasis this, his hands squeezed inside you harder. Your muscles contracted and flexed, allowing him to push the thick tip of his tongue past the tight, wet ring of your cervix.

Shame bubbled so high it was bound to burst - excited at the prospect of being his, in whatever capacity he meant it, that the memories - memories - memories - of the dead those that had left you alone on the mountainside were no longer your friends to mourn, didn't hurt as it became your new truth.

That violating appendage retreated for less than a second before his tip pressed against your fluttering cunny, pulsing and clenching with need. Already you could feel the molten liquid that spilled from him, forcing an alarmed little cry out of you. It was too late for you.

Especially as his cock, impossibly large, began to split you open.

You swore you could feel every ridge and vein as it stretched you impossibly wider than his tongue already had. Gasping for air, you twitched beneath him as inch after inch slid inside, numbing your mind until all you could think of was his fat cock and the semen that was already making its way towards your womb.

A sob wrenched out of you as his tip kissed your cervix, his body coming down warm to blanket over yours. Shame bubbled so high it was bound to burst, the memories, memories, memories, of the dead those that had left the mountainside were no longer your friends to mourn."

"Feel tha'?" His hand caressed the outside of your tummy, his shadows - the inside, as if to make sure that you felt what would happen next.

His tip pulled back just far enough to release your second entrance in a sticky kiss before slamming forward and stuffing itself as far in as it would go.

"No-!" You squeaked as he pried you open, expecting pain only to be met with torrents unbearable pleasure as his semen spilled directly into your womb.

"Gonna make a home here, hm? This one for you," Simon promised, taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head back up to the cottage, his other hands warm in your belly.

He just wasn’t sure if you, his friend and clueless crush, thought the same way about him. Blissfully unaware of how he’d constantly clear his throat to prevent his voice from embarrassingly cracking while speaking to you. He was so mortified the first time it happened that he didn’t look you in the eye for a whole week.

The man was tired of waiting and was going to ask you out no matter what. Friendship be damned, his feelings for you were growing stronger by the day, festering in the core of his chest every time you’d look up at him through your lashes.

While Toji was mentally prepping himself in locker room, Sukuna was sitting in the middle of the gym’s boxing ring, elbows resting on his knees with his head in his hands.

To say that he was in a dilemma was an understatement.

What’s worse than having an unrequited crush on your best friend? Knowing that your other friend and coincidental sparring partner, likes her too. For the past few days, Sukuna had his doubts that Toji had a crush on their friend, and it was soon confirmed when Toji didn’t help Sukuna up after defeating him in a practice match.

The dark haired man simply sauntered over to you, making sure to flex his sweaty abs as he wiped his face with a towel around his neck.

That sly motherfucker—

But Sukuna couldn’t blame him. He would’ve the same too. If it all came down to objectification, he would’ve happily posed for a cliche racy calendar as long as he knew you’d buy it.

“Can we talk?” Sukuna looked up to see Toji standing outside the ring. He was shirtless. He always did that when he knew you were coming over to watch a practice match.

Sukuna cursed under his breath as he got up, not bothering to leave the platform. His ego prevented him from feeling like Toji’s equal. His coach would never approve of his behavior.

“Look, I’m tired of pretending like we both don’t know how we feel about her.” Sukuna only shot daggers at Toji’s unfairly handsome face as he said that. The pink haired man was starting to think that he should’ve just gone to the nasty part of town to get a facial scar instead of tattoos.

He hated the way you’d always fawn over the story of how Toji got his scar. There was something so beautiful yet harrowing about seeing your eyebrows furrow and soft lips jut with a slight wobble over that man in particular.

“And I wanna let you know that I’m gonna tell her how I feel,” he added.

There weren’t a lot of things that surprised Sukuna. Hell, he wasn’t surprised when he realized Toji liked you too. Who wouldn’t? You’re a total sweetheart.

But Toji’s sudden urge to confess and seek a serious relationship was unexpected. Sukuna didn’t remember the last time the man had called a woman after taking her out on one date.

He didn’t want you to end up as just another number in his phone book.

“And sacrifice your friendship with her for a good one-time fuck once you realize that you’re thinking with your dick? Sure, go ahead. But just so you know, she doesn’t deserve that,” Sukuna angrily countered.

“Oh, shut up. You’re only saying that so I’ll back off. You’ve started treating me differently ever since you started liking her too. Well, just so you know, I’m not afraid of a little competition. It’s obvious who she’ll pick.”

Toji cursed himself internally. He didn’t want a pick a fight with his friend, but when it comes to you, he could never rationalize his actions. He angled his head and folded his arms, tucking them by his pecs, trying to be as imposing as possible, “at least I don’t ignore her when she’s feeling down.”

Desperate times call for passive aggressive and triggering measures.

Sukuna chuffs as rage fills him to the brim, vermillion eyes trained on his peer. “Well, since we’re both obsessed with her, let’s settle this like men. Let’s spar-no gloves, no helmets. Whoever wins confesses to her first.”

Tension permeates the gym much like the thick musk of sweat. Toji licks his bottom teeth as he glares at Sukuna.

“Fine.”

The two men walk over to the opposite ends of the ring, wrapping their fists with white bandages. Warriors getting ready for a battle that would determine their fate.

Over the years, Sukuna had built himself to be a formidable fighter, often scaring his opponents by the sheer mention of his name.

His image, of course, never intimidated Toji. Their staunch friendship made it easy for him to not cower under Sukuna’s larger frame and daunting gaze. They’d been through thick and thin together. A brotherly bond like no other.

Though, when you were added into the equation, things changed. Exponentially.

Toji felt like he was having an out of body experience when he turned down a woman for yet another one night stand, feeling guilty for what you might think about his habits. He started styling his shaggy hair better, trimming it out of his eyes in hopes of you seeing him as a kempt man, unlike the unpolished ruffian he used to be.

Sukuna changed his vocabulary when you complained about him swearing too much. Though there were a few slips of tongue, he’d apologize soon after, only to feel rewarded when you’d giggle and tell him all was good. He found himself truly changing when he debated keeping the stray cat you found while walking to the gym one day. That cat still hangs out at his apartment. Until he finds a suitable owner of course (and not because it makes him feel like you’re both raising a child together whenever you ask about the little rascal).

The two men harnessed their emotions in every punch, each hit impacting harder than the last. By now, there were red splotches of both their blood on the bandages. They couldn’t tell if it was a mixture or their own.

Toji had landed a particularly hard punch in Sukuna’s stomach when you had walked in, chatting Uraume’s ear off about some Greek restaurant you discovered.

“I’m gonna go call Coach Yaga. You try to deescalate the situation,” Uraume instructs you before jogging towards the office.

You gasped as you heard the loud thump. The men were too busy brawling to notice that you had walked in.

“Oh my God!” You ran towards the ring, hand stamped to your mouth when you saw blood coating your friends’ bodies.

Toji looked at you momentarily, sending you a quick smile before ducking away from Sukuna’s attack. “Hey, you’re here early.”

“Yeah, and I’m glad I did. Why are you guys hurting each other like this? Stop it!”

“Oh, just relax, we’re only practicing,” Sukuna cajoles as he lands a hard punch on Toji’s jaw.

You could only wince at the sound. “You guys never fight without your gloves. What is going on?”

“Don’t worry about it,” both men said in unison.

There was no way you could’ve stopped the fight by entering the ring. You did not want to accidentally hurt yourself while trying to pry the two fighters apart.

So you watched and cringed each time someone got a gnarly punch, bruising them like a peach.

Toji peered up at you through his sweaty and matted bangs as you placed an ice pack on his bloody knuckles. He hissed as you pressed the cold brick even harder, trying to numb the area.

The boxers rash decision led you to where you stood right now: between them in the locker room with an opened first aid kit sitting on the same bench as them. By the time Coach Yaga arrived to break them apart, both men had battered each other to a pulp. Sukuna was sporting a painful purple eye that matched Toji’s (mainly because it was given in retaliation).

Toji had bruises all over his chest and both men had sent each other so many punches that the friction from the knuckle bandages had rubbed their skin raw, leaving their hands covered in blood.

As punishment, Coach Yaga sent them both to the locker room to fix their injuries themselves, but you couldn’t handle seeing them wince in pain every time they touched something so you followed them in.

Sukuna groaned as he lightly touched his purple eye and you immediately moved to where he was sitting to attend to it. You grabbed another ice pack and placed it by his brow bone. His hand was quick to cover yours, preventing you from moving it away immediately.

“What were you both thinking? Did you guys argue over something?”

You were met with silence, both men sitting like toddlers who had been caught trying to secretly stay up past bed time. “I don’t understand how you both can be so immature.”

You try to move your hand away from Sukuna’s ice pack but his hold is rigid. “Let me go, I need to look at Toji’s injuries and my hand’s going numb.”

Toji sends a smug smirk to Sukuna when you turn around to dig through the first aid box. Sukuna only replies to his friend by baring his fangs.

“I didn’t expect this at all. You guys are friends,” you continued as you dabbed ointment on the small cut on Toji’s jaw.

The raven haired man gulps as your scent enshrouds him. It’s much better than the amalgamated miasma of bleach and Old Spice in the locker room.

All while Toji was enjoying being close to you, Sukuna scoffed internally while watching the scene with his good eye. Two could play that game.

“Hey, could put a muscle relaxing patch on my back? I think I’ve got a huge bruise there,” Toji’s head whips towards his sparring partner as he chews the inside of his cheek.

You nod sweetly, and the place the ointment filled cotton pad in Toji’s palm so you could attend to Sukuna instead. Toji watched with betrayed eyes as you gasped at the sight of Sukuna’s back.

“Oh my God, you’re right. This looks horrible.” You glare at Toji. “You really didn’t hold back, didn’t you?”

“Are you seriously gonna blame all of this on me? What about my face?” Toji counters.

“You’re right. I can’t just blame this on you. You’re both at fault for ending up like this,” you reprimand both men as you stick a muscle relief patch on Sukuna’s back. The softness of your hands makes him momentarily forget about his pain.

“Meat-headed oafs,” you mumble under your breath.

“I think I’ve got a bruise on my back too. Can you apply a patch there?” Sukuna throws a middle finger to Toji when you turn your back to them.

When you’re about to go back to the first aid box after applying Toji’s patch, Sukuna pulls you to him again, “I think I need more patches on my ribs.”

Exhaustion begins to settle into your bones, but you listen to your friend anyway. You’re about to leave until Toji grabs your waist and pulls you into his direction.

He looks at you with puppy dog eyes. “Can you massage my biceps? They’re very sore—“

“Hey, I think my patch’s adhesive isn’t strong. Can you apply another one?” Sukuna interrupts.

Jealousy bubbles in both of them and it threatens to spill out.

“I asked her for help first!”

“But I can’t reach my back. You can touch your biceps just fine—“

“Both of you shut up! I’m not your slave. Uraume will help you. I’m mad and I’m going home. You’re both such babies.” And with that you walk out of the locker room with a sulking faces and folded arms.

“This is all your fault,” Toji blames. Sukuna simply slaps his friend’s bicep and Toji’s lack of a whimper makes him scoff.

“You just wanted an excuse for her to touch you. I needed real help.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do to get attention. I’m gonna confess to her before you know it.”