enhastars - Tumblr blog

enhastars · 7 days ago

Text

THE RED ROOM જ⁀➴ CHAPTER FOUR

AT THE RESTAURANT, OCT 13

Y/N felt her stomach flip as she made her way to the back of the restaurant. Each step she took felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of her own dread was pulling her down. Her heart seemed to drop to the soles of her shoes, and her mind raced with a million possibilities about why Sunghoon had summoned her. The top contenders: he was either going to fire her, kill her, or maybe even both.

Before she realized it, she was standing in front of Sunghoon’s office door. Most of the locks were undone, which wasn’t much of a relief. Sweat trickled down her back in cold rivulets, and she wiped her forehead with her sleeve in an attempt to appear composed. If she was about to get fired, at least she wanted to look decent while it happened.

Raising her hand, she knocked lightly. Her fingers trembled with hesitation, and she was about to knock again when the sound of the lock turning startled her. The handle moved, and the door cracked open.

“Come in.”

The door creaked as she pushed it halfway open, her gaze glued to the floor. She didn’t dare meet Sunghoon’s eyes. The last thing she needed was to spiral into a full-blown panic attack under his intense stare.

“Here. Sit.”

Sunghoon’s words were short and to the point, and Y/N was grateful for his brevity. If he had said much more—or spoken any louder—she might have bolted out of the room entirely.

She sat down on a red leather chair in front of his desk, her fingers immediately moving to fidget with each other. It was an old nervous habit, one she hadn’t quite managed to break. Her head remained bowed, her eyes refusing to meet his.

“I need you to look at me, Y/N.”

His tone was sharper now, more commanding. Y/N hesitated, her eyes darting between her lap and the desk. She didn’t want to defy him any further, especially not after the events of earlier that day.

Slowly, she raised her eyes, meeting his gaze at last. The moment their eyes locked, her stomach churned with unease. Sunghoon’s irises gleamed with something she couldn’t quite place—delight? Satisfaction? But beneath that, there was a terror lurking in his expression that made her skin crawl. His wide, glazed brown eyes held a weight she couldn’t begin to fathom. Those eyes alone could kill someone, she thought, and she already felt like their victim.

There was also another sick feeling, deep within her that had found it attractive. While scared beyond her wits, the man in front of her was the most handsome man she had ever seen. She pushed these urges down though, beating herself up mentally for even thinking this way– as if Sunghoon could read her mind or something.

“There you are.”

Sunghoon smiled then, wide but empty. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. Two gold frame teeth gleamed as his lips curled upward. Normally, she might have found the detail of the grillsl cool, but now it only unnerved her. His breath smelled faintly of fresh coffee, just like last time, and she concluded that he must be a caffeine addict.

She forced a small, awkward smile in response, though it looked more like a grimace. Her leg began to bounce unconsciously, the tension in the room making her feel like a cornered rabbit.

This is so uncomfortable, she thought.

“Listen, I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. She hadn’t expected him to bring it up at all.

“I was looking for something,” Sunghoon continued, “and I stumbled upon you sneaking around in the Cold Room.” He let out a soft chuckle, but there was no warmth in it.

“I—yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Y/N stammered, clearing her throat nervously. She prayed silently that her apology would be enough to satisfy him.

“I forgive you.”

The words came so quickly and easily that she was caught off guard. Sunghoon even smiled—a genuine smile this time, not the eerie grin he usually wore.

“Wait—really?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

He nodded, standing from his seat and downing the last of his espresso. Y/N hesitated, unsure of what to do, but eventually followed his lead and stood up as well.

“Come, I’ll give you a proper tour of the place.”

She stared at him in shock. She’d come here expecting to be fired, but instead, she was being offered a personal voyage of the restaurant.

“Wait, I don’t understand—”

Sunghoon didn’t give her the chance to finish. He was already striding out of the office, leaving her no choice but to follow quickly behind him. Her curiosity gnawed at her, but she stayed silent for now.

They passed by the interns lounging in the hallway, some scrolling aimlessly on their phones while others smoked in the corner. Everyone immediately straightened up the moment Sunghoon walked by, their eyes darting nervously toward him. Yet Sunghoon didn’t spare them a glance, his focus fixed straight ahead. The display of authority was both impressive and unsettling.

“There’s nothing really in the Freezers,” Sunghoon said as they galliantly entered the kitchen, which smelled like a heavenly oasis of spices. “I just don’t like people snooping around like they’re cops.”

He chuckled, and Y/N felt her stomach growl. She realized she’d barely eaten breakfast, and the aroma in the kitchen wasn’t helping.

“Sunghoon!” A voice called from nearby. Jungwon, the general manager, approached them with an exasperated look. His notepad and pen were in hand, his expression tired. “Riki’s been looking everywhere for you.”

“Has he?” Sunghoon sounded genuinely surprised.

Jungwon sighed, brushing past the two with barely a glance at Y/N. She didn’t blame him—he clearly had more important things to deal with.

As they continued toward the ventilation room, Sunghoon paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. “You trust me, right?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to respond. But eventually, she nodded. Her instincts screamed at her not to, but she figured it was best to stay on his good side.

Sunghoon didn’t wait for a verbal response. He turned back to the door, entering a series of numbers into the keypad. His movements were deliberate, and he angled his body slightly, ensuring Y/N couldn’t see the code. She stood in tense silence as the lock clicked open.

Y/N expected something grotesque, something top secret and vulgar— she wasn't sure why, but anxiety usually made her think of the worst possible outcome. She was half expecting a serial killer to jump out behind the door, ready to slice her face in half and serve it on a platter. That was ridiculous though, so she quickly shoved the thought away.

The door creaked as it swung inward, and a gust of cold air rushed out, chilling her to the bone. Sunghoon stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.

Y/N hesitated, her heart pounding as she peered into the room. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly as her eyes adjusted. Taking cautious steps forward, she braced herself for the worst, imagining grotesque sights or hidden horrors.

Once her eyes adjusted to the bright lights and she finally took it all in, her jaw slackened in surprise. No way.

The room was completely empty.

Well, not completely. A couple of industrial freezers stood against one wall, and two vacant stainless steel tables were positioned in the center of the space. That was it. There were no hidden horrors, no bloody secrets waiting to be uncovered—nothing.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She’d let her imagination run wild, assuming the worst about Sunghoon when, in reality, the man was just overly cautious. Y/N felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She hadn’t said anything about her suspicions out loud, but she still felt like she owed him an apology.

“See? Nothing special.”

Sunghoon’s voice had a smug, “told-you-so” edge to it. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t—”

Before she could finish, Sunghoon raised a finger to his lips, silencing her. His expression softened, but his body language said everything: I know. The simple gesture made her skin prickle with unease. It wasn’t just the unspoken understanding that he knew her thoughts—it was how confident he was about it. As if he could see straight through her.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice calm and measured. “I know.”

With that, he stepped back into the hallway and pressed a new code into the keypad. The door locked with a soft beep, sealing the room once more.

Strangely, the pit in Y/N’s stomach didn’t go away. The sense of dread lingered, heavy and suffocating, even though she’d just seen for herself that there was nothing suspicious in the room. She shook her head, trying to push the feeling away.

Gut feelings don’t mean anything, she told herself firmly. I just need this job.

Sunghoon studied her closely as she stood there, lost in her thoughts. There was an almost playful tilt to his lips, seemingly enjoying the inner turmoil she was facing at that moment. Y/N caught a glimpse of that same devilish grin she’d seen before, and suddenly, a vivid image flashed in her mind.

For a split second, she saw Sunghoon standing over her, his face smeared with blood. The walls around them were crimson, cracked, and lined with hanging bodies dripping with gore. His laugh echoed in her ears, distorted and inhuman, as he loomed over her like a predator over its prey.

She gasped, jerking herself out of the horrifying vision. Her hands balled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She clenched her jaw, willing herself to calm down.

The image was horrid, and it left her mortified. She didn’t know where that sudden vision came from or why it happened, but it made her scared of the man all over again.

Why am I acting like this? This is so stupid. Sunghoon was her boss, and he’d never shown any signs of being capable of something so monstrous. And yet, her body refused to listen to her brain.

All she knew as they left the room was that she didn’t trust him—not one bit.

The slam of a door jolted Y/N out of her spiraling thoughts. She whipped her head up, startled by the sudden noise. Sunghoon didn’t seem fazed at all, though his brow furrowed in mild annoyance.

“Oh, Jake and Jay should be here by now,” he said casually.

“Jake and… Jay?” Y/N repeated, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected to meet anyone else today, let alone two new people.

“Yep,” Sunghoon replied, his tone light. “They’re coming all the way from Busan, so they must be exhausted.”

Busan?

Her hometown?

She wanted to comment on the coincidence but decided against it, unsure if it was worth mentioning. Instead, she followed Sunghoon as he opened the door to the main kitchen.

The first thing she noticed was a short man with chestnut-brown hair, his doe eyes and mischievous grin giving him a puppy-like appearance. He was making obnoxious kissy noises at someone while flailing his arms dramatically.

“Baby, did you miss me?” he called loudly, earning an exasperated groan from the red-haired man beside him, who was clearly trying to avoid his advances.

Next to him was someone a bit taller, with an intimidating aura that left Y/n amazed. His sharp eyes were narrowed and his jaw was locked, making him look even scarier. His blue/black hair was neatly gelled up, with a few strands falling onto his face. It was like the sun and moon– how drastic the two’s personalities seemed.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Heeseung groaned, rejecting the happy guy’s advances and swatting at him with a wooden spoon.

Y/N blinked, utterly baffled by the chaotic scene.

“They’re always like this,” The intimidating guy muttered, pinching his face in frustration.

“God, you guys are so embarrassing.” Riki rolled his eyes, unfastening his tie and wrapping it around the hanger by the lockers. Even with his tie undone and his hair slightly disheveled, he still looked annoyingly handsome.

The intimidating guy turned around first, noticing Sunghoon with a girl basically hiding behind him. In a mere second, his face morphed from annoyed to pleased, a wide grin growing on his face.

“Well there’s a new face.” His sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Y/N.

This caused the rest of them to turn around, immediately straightening up at the sign of their boss. Sunghoon had such a presence that caused people to stop what they were doing and become attentive and obedient. Y/n found that kind of power very admiring.

“Hey, hyung.”

Sunoo approached with his usual bright smile, now dressed in a clean set of clothes. He carried an air of calmness that made him seem immune to the chaos around him. Bowing respectfully to Sunghoon, he turned to Y/N and affectionately ruffled her hair.

Y/N felt her shoulders relax at the small gesture. Sunoo had an ease about him that made her feel safer whenever he was nearby.

“Sunoo, you don’t have to do that,” Sunghoon chuckled, his voice surprisingly light. The expression on his face was unlike anything Y/N had seen before—soft, warm, even affectionate. It was a side of him that didn’t match the sharp, commanding aura he usually exuded.

Heeseung appeared behind Sunoo, his own genuine smile lighting up his face. There was an undeniable camaraderie between them all, a comfort and closeness that made them seem more like lifelong friends than coworkers.

Growing up, Y/n was never the sociable type. She had a hard time making friends, so she didn’t have many in the first place. Guys would tease her relentlessly, while the girls were always cruel. The only friend she did manage to get had approached her first, and they’ve been inseparable since middle school– however they’re currently studying abroad in the U.S which left Y/n feeling more alone. She yearned for a family type bond with someone his whole life, as she was never given a chance– with her father being absent and her mother having disappeared at a young age. Seeing how comfortable everyone here was with each other, she had a sliver of hope that she too could become apart of it.

“So, are you gonna introduce us to the pretty new girl or what?”

The puppy-like man—Jake, if Y/N remembered correctly—threw an arm around Sunghoon’s shoulders, grinning mischievously. Sunghoon brushed him off with a scoff, but there was no real annoyance behind it. She flushed at the compliment, brushing it off as just him being nice.

“Y/N, these are thing one and thing two,” Sunghoon said, his tone teasing as he gestured toward the two men.

The taller of the two—Jay—let out a sharp scoff, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Park Jongsaeng,” Jay introduced himself, his sharp eyes glinting as he offered her a polite smile. “But I mainly go by Jay.”

Y/N mirrored the gesture, bowing her head slightly. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Jay’s gaze flicked down to her outstretched hand, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Before Y/N could retract her hand in embarrassment, Jake burst into laughter, poorly stifling a snort with his fist.

“You’re supposed to shake it, idiot,” Riki chimed in from his perch on the counter, a wide, amused grin spreading across his face.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. Y/N straightened her posture, scratching the back of her neck in an effort to mask her embarrassment. Her ears burned, and she tried to hide her flushed face by tugging at her sleeves.

“She’s cute,” Jake giggled, glancing between Sunghoon and Jay.

Y/N caught the shared look between the three of them—subtle, but not subtle enough to go unnoticed. It was as if they were in on a secret that no one else was privy to. The thought left her both curious and uneasy.

“Sorry, shaking hands isn’t really my thing,” Jay said, breaking the silence with a shrug.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Y/N mumbled, still flustered.

Riki tutted sympathetically and hopped off the counter, walking over to pat her gently on the back. The simple gesture eased her nerves slightly, and she managed a small smile in return.

Riki and Sunoo were the only ones she felt remotely comfortable with so far. Sunoo had a protective, older brother vibe, and Riki exuded a laid-back confidence that was both calming and reassuring.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but Jake, Jay, and I have some business to discuss,” Sunghoon said, cutting through the moment.

Jake groaned dramatically and flung himself at Heeseung, wrapping his arms around him in a clingy embrace.

“Work talk is boringgg,” he whined, earning a pained yelp from Heeseung as he tried to pry Jake off him.

“Jake, stop being annoying,” Jay snapped, his sharp tone enough to make Jake release his hold immediately.

The group began to disperse, understanding that whatever Sunghoon meant by “business” was not meant for their ears. Y/N, however, stayed rooted in place, her curiosity gnawing at her. What kind of “business” were they always disappearing to handle?

“Wanna help Riki-san wash dishes?” Heeseung asked, tossing her a pair of rubber gloves. They were stained and worn at the fingertips, but they’d have to do. “Shift’s almost over anyway.”

Y/N caught the gloves, nodding silently. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice, but she didn’t mind. Working alongside Riki didn’t seem like the worst way to end the night.

Riki shot Heeseung a pointed look. “Take it easy on her, okay?” he said, though he was smiling.

Heeseung shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he walked away.

Y/N slipped on the gloves and joined Riki at the sink. He passed her a pot to scrub, and she worked quietly, her thoughts spiraling despite the comforting routine of washing dishes.

She couldn’t shake the lingering sense of unease that clung to her like a shadow. Sunghoon, Jay, and Jake all had an energy about them that felt... off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it gnawed at her, leaving her restless and distracted.

“Y/N,” Riki said softly, his voice pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“You’re scrubbing the same spot over and over.”

Y/N glanced down at the pot in her hands, realizing with a jolt that she’d been absentmindedly scrubbing one area for who knows how long.

“Sorry,” she muttered, moving on to rinse the pot.

Riki studied her carefully, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure everything’s okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, forcing a smile.

He didn’t look convinced, but let it go anyway. “If you say so.”

As Y/N scrubbed another pan, her thoughts drifted back to Sunghoon. Something about the way he carried himself—the way people froze when he walked into a room—made her both curious and wary. She didn’t trust him, not entirely. And she had a feeling that whatever “business” he was discussing with Jay and Jake wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“So, she’s Choi’s daughter?” Jay asked, his voice low as he made sure no one else was within earshot. The three of them had left the kitchen and were now weaving their way through the narrow corridors of the offices toward the garage, where the shipments usually arrived.

The garage doors were rolled down, but tangerine rays of the setting sun seeped through the cracks, painting the dusty floor in warm hues. The faint golden light caught on their faces, highlighting the sharp tension in Sunghoon’s jaw. Stacks of packages loomed in uneven rows, their movements stirring the air and kicking up clouds of fine dust. The scent of dirt and motor oil clung to everything, but they were used to it by now.

Sunghoon’s demeanor was far removed from the laid-back, almost carefree persona he wore in front of the others. His brows were furrowed, his lips set in a thin, tight line.

“Yeah, that’s her,” he said, his voice clipped.

Jake let out a disbelieving laugh, leaning casually against one of the crates. “Wow. That was way too fucking easy.” He reached for the lever to the garage door, pulling it down to reveal the trucks waiting outside.

Sunghoon exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging slightly. It had been too easy—almost unnervingly so. Y/N had fallen right into their hands, just as they’d hoped. The second her application crossed his desk, he hadn’t hesitated. She was perfect: unassuming, innocent, and far removed from the spotlight that followed her family.

“I liked her, she was cute. It’s too bad,” Jake added, a pout forming on his lips. He tended to get attached to people far too easily, a trait that Sunghoon often saw as both an asset and a liability.

Excitement practically radiated from Jake as he bounced on his feet, his energy palpable. “I’d totally ask her out too,” he said brightly, as if he hadn’t just been plotting her demise minutes ago.

Jay exchanged a wary glance with Sunghoon, his expression tinged with unease. Jake was always so happy-go-lucky that it was impossible to tell when he was serious or just playing around.

“You know we have to kill her, Jake,” Sunghoon said quietly.

Even though he knew it was the inevitable conclusion, the words tasted bitter on his tongue.

Jake rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively. “Of course I know, dude. But don’t you think she seems different? I mean, yeah, her dad’s an asshole, but she’s not like him.”

Sunghoon knew all too well about Mr. Choi. His uncle had drilled it into his head from the moment this job became a possibility. Choi was a self-made man, the epitome of a “rags-to-riches” story, and now one of the wealthiest businessmen in the country. Married into wealth, father of three, and adored by the public, he seemed untouchable.

But Sunghoon’s uncle had other plans.

It was all painfully simple. Choi was running for mayor—against Sunghoon’s uncle. The stakes were high, and both men had powerful support, but Sunghoon’s uncle wanted an edge. That’s where Y/N came in. She was the least public of the three children, making her disappearance easier to cover up. The eldest son was an executive at a tech company, and the middle daughter was an up-and-coming K-pop idol—both impossible to target without sparking nationwide outrage.

“I begged him not to do this,” Sunghoon murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His uncle’s words still echoed in his mind: “You do what you gotta do to survive in this world. Learn that from me, boy.”

And he had learned. Sunghoon, of course, didn’t enjoy killing for revenge, but he learned how to silence his conscience, to lock away the guilt that threatened to consume him every time he followed an order. He didn’t want to hurt Y/N—she was an innocent caught in the crossfire of her father’s ambitions. But what choice did he have?

“You think they’d be suspicious if she disappeared?” Jay’s question pulled Sunghoon from his thoughts.

They’d have to come up with some kind of believable story, maybe something about her running away. But the thought of lying to the others—Riki, Sunoo, Heeseung—made Sunghoon’s chest tighten. They had all been loyal to him, trusting him blindly. The thought of breaking that trust, of seeing Sunoo’s heart broken despair, Jungwon’s mortified face, Riki’s tears– was unbearable.

No, they don’t need to know everything. Everything was fine the way it was now.

Jay placed a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, his touch firm but oddly comforting. He seemed to sense the turmoil swirling inside him.

“If anyone deserves to know,” Jay said softly, “it’d be Heeseung.”

Sunghoon nodded reluctantly. Heeseung had been with them the longest—longer than anyone else. He was the glue that held their group together, the steady presence they all relied on. But the thought of Heeseung finding out what Sunghoon had done—what they were still doing—sent a cold chill through him.

If Heeseung knew what his signature Korean beef bulgogi was really made of, what would he do? What would he say? Sunghoon didn’t want to imagine it.

Strangely enough, he didn’t feel any remorse, and he was slowly feeling like Jake and Jay weren’t either. It made him feel like shit, in all honesty. Like he was some kind of monster that brainwashed them. He probably was a monster. Their transformation from when he first met them satisfied but also terrified him– how much human nature can change under the right conditions was jarring.

A tapestry of disaster were the men that stood before him, and Sunghoon was the painter. Whether he should feel honored or burdened, he wasn’t sure.

“Well,” Jay said, snapping him back to reality, “it’s either Y/N dies, or we face the wrath of your uncle.” He let out a humorless laugh.

“Both of those choices can suck my dick,” Jake quipped, earning a startled laugh from Sunghoon.

“Oh my god, I did not need that visual,” Jay groaned, his laughter turning into a sigh.

“Count this as revenge for that lasagna comment earlier,” Jake shot back, grinning mischievously.

Sunghoon usually reminisces on moments like these, but the notion from earlier still lingers. He hates holding secrets from people, and he had had to hold many throughout his life. Jay was right; Heeseung was clever and will probably catch onto their schemes sooner or later, so why not lay it on him while he's still oblivious? Sunghoon faced many dilemmas in his life, but this was by far his trickiest one.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Jake was relentless, but Jay didn’t return the humor this time. While Sunghoon was deep in his thoughts– like always– Jay had gone behind the trucks to open the cargo space since he was impatient waiting for the rest of them to arrive.

“Hello? Earth to Jay?” Jake called, his voice tinged with concern.

Jay didn’t respond. His eyes were wide, his hands frozen in place as he stared into the back of the truck.

Sunghoon’s stomach dropped. “What is it?”

Jay finally turned to face them, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s empty. There’s… nothing here.”

Sunghoon’s heart began to race. He pushed past Jake to see for himself, and his breath caught in his throat. The cargo space was completely bare—spotless, as if it had been wiped clean. Jake stood frozen, his hands tangled in his hair.

“We are in such deep shit.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

author note: sorry the slow burn is slow burning 🙏 i promise sunghoon's romance with y/n will hasten, i'm just taking time to establish their relationship bc angst hehhee. also, jake and jay is such an iconic duo name im obsessed with the '02 liners <3 hope you guys enjoyed!

prev | masterlist | next

taglist: @rebeccaaaaaaaa, @strxwbloody, @shuichi-sama, @pshbites

36 notes · View notes

enhastars · 8 days ago

Text

THE RED ROOM જ⁀➴ CHAPTER THREE

AT THE WAREHOUSE, OCT 13TH ✦ (TW: GRAPHIC)

Blood painted the walls in messy strokes, the feathered splatter of arterial spray. It dripped down in dark streaks, pooling ominously into the carpet. As Jake approached the scene, the floor squelched beneath his boots, the sound damp and sickening, like water being wrung from a sponge. A thick crimson liquid welled up under his soles, staining them irreparably.

Jake lifted his foot, his face twisted in disgust. This sight had become far too familiar, yet he never grew accustomed to it. The stench alone was enough to turn most stomachs, and it was precisely why he never committed these heinous acts with his own two hands.

Jay was already at the scene, crouched beside the mangled corpse—or what remained of them. He jabbed a stick into the flesh, prodding it like one might poke at roadkill. The chunk of tissue rolled lifelessly, smearing against the floor. Jay smirked, seemingly satisfied. Jake couldn’t understand how the other could get so close to the carnage, with guts and viscera splayed across the room, and then go on to eat meat with relish.

“This one’s messy,” Jay remarked, his tone almost lighthearted.

“No kidding. It’s disgusting,” Jake shot back, rolling his eyes at the obvious observation.

Jay grinned and spun on his heel, his gaze catching another gruesome fragment on the floor. He knelt to inspect it, jabbing at the flesh with morbid curiosity. “Hey, doesn’t this look like lasagna?”

Jake didn’t need to look long to see the resemblance. A chunk of what could only be brain matter lay in a lumpy, tangled heap on the ground. The sight made his stomach churn.

“God, you’re so gross, you know that?” Jake groaned, running a hand through his chesnut-colored hair in exasperation. He swore he wouldn’t be able to eat Italian food for weeks now.

Ignoring him, Jay rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing as they caught sight of a maroon file on a nearby table. He grabbed it and casually brushed off the debris clinging to its surface. Curious despite himself, Jake carefully stepped around the carnage to join him.

Jay flipped open the file, his expression darkening as his eyes scanned the pages. His lips pressed into a thin line as he handed it over to Jake without a word. One glance at the contents was enough for Jake to understand.

“What a sick bastard,” Jay muttered, running a hand through his blue-toned hair. Jake frowned at the realization that Jay’s hands were likely far from clean. Still, he nodded grimly in agreement.

The file detailed the heinous acts of Choi Jeongwu, 27, who had been convicted of manslaughter, theft, and sexual assault. The list of his crimes was sickeningly long. Even if he had pleaded guilty, Jake thought, he would’ve ended up on death row.

“I’d say he deserved it, don’t you think?” Jay spoke as if reading Jake’s mind, his tone devoid of any sympathy.

Jake offered a strained smile. A part of him agreed—men like Jeongwu didn’t deserve mercy. But another part of him, a deeper, more human part, struggled to process the violence that had just unfolded. Jay had always been better at compartmentalizing. Jake suspected Sunghoon had something to do with that.

Sensing the shift in Jake’s mood, Jay nudged him lightly with an elbow. “I bet he’d taste disgusting,” Jay joked, breaking the tension.

Jake looked up, his bangs falling over his face. “I can’t wait to see Mr. Choi’s face when he finds out what his favorite steak was made of.”

The mental image made Jake laugh despite himself, the sound easing the weight in his chest. Jay grinned, glad to have lifted Jake’s spirits. It had always been like this between the two of them—each other’s lifeline in a world that seemed bent on swallowing them whole.

When Sunghoon had entered their lives, Jake had just turned 20. He remembered it so vividly, as if it were yesterday. Back then, he and Jay were nothing more than rogues, living on the edge of life and death. Jay, his childhood friend, had dropped out of school when college funds proved unattainable, and he’d urged Jake to do the same. Jake couldn’t imagine life without Jay by his side, so he followed suit.

They scavenged the streets for ways to make a quick buck, eventually stumbling into the dark, violent world of narcotics. Selling drugs and conning the wealthy had been dangerous and morally dubious, but it paid well. It had also given them a rush they couldn’t find anywhere else.

Now, standing in the aftermath of yet another grisly scene, Jake couldn’t help but wonder if this life would ever truly let them go.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry up!” Jay, who was much younger and sporting his natural jet black hair, yelled over his shoulder at the man lagging behind him. His arms were weighed down with plastic bags, each stuffed with illegal substances ranging from cocaine to LSD. The load was heavy, but the stakes were heavier.

Jake, younger and far less experienced, was frozen in place. His hands trembled, and his knees felt glued to the ground. Fear coursed through him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jay couldn’t see what was happening behind him—he was too focused on making their escape after their hideout had been mysteriously tipped off to the police.

“Hyung...” Jake whispered, his voice shaky and his chest tight. He felt as though even the smallest breath could spell his doom. His dry lips quivered as the terror of the moment overwhelmed him for the first time in months.

“I suggest you tell your buddy to put the bags down before I shoot him through the chest,” a new voice cut through the tension like a knife. The words were cold, sharp, and commanding.

Jay whipped his head around, and in that moment, he understood why the other had been paralyzed. Standing just a foot away was a lanky man with a gun pressed firmly against Jake’s back. His long blonde hair was wild and unkempt, falling over his pale, porcelain skin. A black leather jacket clung to his frame, layered over a matching black polo shirt. A gold chain glinted against his chest, a stark contrast to his otherwise shadowy appearance. His face was hard, his gaze boring into the back of Jake’s head, but his lips curved into a maniacal smile.

Jay had seen his fair share of vicious people, but there was something about this man—his cold confidence, his eerie smirk—that left him petrified.

Slowly, Jay dropped to his knees and set the plastic bags on the ground. His eyes were wide and unblinking, his breath shallow as his body tensed. He couldn’t even muster the strength to reassure Jake, who looked like he was on the verge of tears.

The stranger let out a low, mocking laugh, his voice dripping with condescension. “I never thought you’d actually listen.”

Jay’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as anger simmered beneath his fear. He hated feeling humiliated, especially during what was supposed to be a clean getaway.

Without warning, the man tossed the gun to the ground at Jay’s feet. Jake exhaled sharply in relief, suddenly aware that he’d been holding his breath the entire time. Jay arched an eyebrow, his confusion plain.

“It’s empty anyway,” the man said casually, shrugging. “I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

“It... it was empty?” Jake’s voice cracked, the adrenaline still coursing through him.

“Of course it was. It’s illegal to carry a loaded firearm in Korea, you know,” the man said with a sly grin. Brushing past Jake, he crouched beside the bags of drugs and began rummaging through them like he was inspecting merchandise.

Jay, still on edge, was flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to toy with them like this. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, he couldn’t bring himself to lash out. Whether it was lingering fear or sheer exhaustion, he wasn’t sure.

Jake hesitated, then inched closer to Jay, careful not to provoke the stranger. The sound of sirens began to grow louder in the distance, snapping them both back to reality.

“Hey,” Jay said, his voice sharp and urgent. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but we need to get the fuck out of here.”

The man didn’t even glance at him, waving him off with the back of his hand. “Relax,” he muttered, still digging through the bags.

The sirens drew closer, and panic began to rise in Jay. He clenched his fists, ready to drag Jake out of there if he had to.

After a few seconds, the man sighed in disappointment and stood up, dusting off his hands. He turned to face them, his sinister smirk returning. Jake instinctively moved behind Jay, but Jay stood his ground.

“How about you two work for me?” the man asked, his tone unnervingly casual.

“Are you crazy? Why the hell would we do that?” Jay snapped, his frustration bubbling over. He wasn’t about to let himself be treated like a pawn.

The man tilted his head, his expression calm and calculating. “Because, I can promise you’ll make more money with me than you ever could in this rat’s nest you call a hideout,” he said, gesturing around the grimy room with a look of distaste.

Jay’s jaw clenched, and he took a step forward, but Jake grabbed his arm to hold him back. The sirens were closing in, the red and blue lights beginning to paint the room in fractured colors.

“What do we get out of this?” Jay questioned defensively.

“I can help you out of this debacle you got yourselves in.”

The sirens were inching towards where the three were, making the panic rise in Jay. He didn’t have time to argue with this stranger, unless he wanted to be locked up for the rest of his life.

“Hyung,” Jake whispered, his voice urgent. “I think we should listen to him.”

“How do you know we can trust this random guy?” Jay spat, growing increasingly frustrated.

Deep down though, he knew he had to come up with a decision quickly.

“The odds are stacked against us, Jay! Look around us.” Jake yelled, surprising both of them with the outburst.

Jay glanced back at the younger, startled by the seriousness in his tone. It wasn’t often that Jake called him by name, and it only happened when he was dead serious. He gritted his teeth, torn between his pride and the reality of their situation.

The man grinned, sensing victory. “So, what do you say, Mr. Jay?”

The sirens were now deafening, the flashing lights casting eerie shadows across the room. Jay swallowed hard, then nodded begrudgingly. He didn’t like it, but he knew they had no other choice. The stranger seemed satisfied with that.

“We don’t even know your name,” Jake said, stepping forward cautiously.

The man cocked an eyebrow, then reached into his pocket and handed Jake a small slip of paper—what appeared to be a business card. Jay’s eyes widened as the man turned around and climbed onto the windowsill, clearly preparing to jump. “Are you insane?” Jay shouted, realizing the his spontaneous plan.

The stranger turned back with a smirk, silencing him with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about me,” he said, his voice calm yet commanding. “Just worry about keeping up.”

Before he jumped out, he glanced back one more time at the duo expectedly, who were staring back at him stunned.

“It’s Sunghoon, by the way. Park Sunghoon.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sunghoon, I got the body.”

Back in the present, Jake was pulled from his flashback as Jay’s voice broke through the silence. Jay was speaking into his cellphone—a special kind of burner phone designed to prevent any calls from being traced back to them. Keeping the cops off their trail was always a top priority.

As expected, the call went straight to voicemail. It always did. Jay left a message anyway, confident Sunghoon would get back to them quickly, as usual. The waiting rarely lasted long, and it wasn’t much of a hassle.

The process of transferring the goods was routine by now. Ever since Sunghoon had purchased a trucking company under a shell corporation, transportation had become significantly easier. The only annoyance was waiting for the trucks to arrive. Sometimes it could take hours, but today, they were quicker than expected. Jake guessed the hitman they’d hired must’ve called the trucks ahead of time, for which he was grateful. He didn’t want to spend another minute in that warehouse if he could help it.

“What about the cleaning service? Did they get back to you?” Jake asked, glancing at Jay as they finished packaging the goods.

Jake never dealt with the cleanup—he avoided it like the plague. Blood and guts weren’t his thing, and Sunghoon had thankfully hired a private cleaning service for these kinds of "specialized" messes.

“No, but they should be here soon,” a worker nearby replied, his voice muffled by the hazmat mask covering his face. His gloved hands moved efficiently, stacking sealed evidence bags.

Jake tsked in annoyance, partly because he was tired of waiting but mostly because he’d forgotten to wear protective gear. His clothes were ruined, and now he’d need to replace them.

With a nod from the worker, Jay gestured toward their car, signaling that it was time to leave. The rest of the cleanup would be handled by the hired crew. Jay and Jake only stuck around to grab any files or critical evidence worth salvaging.

“I need new shoes,” Jake muttered with a pout as he climbed into the passenger seat of Jay’s gray Mercedes-Benz.

Jay, sliding into the driver’s seat, smirked knowingly. “It was a birthday gift,” he always said about the car. But Jake wasn’t buying it. He was pretty sure Jay had stolen it—being a thief was practically written into his DNA at this point.

Jay turned the ignition, and the car roared to life, the radio blasting an ear-piercing burst of heavy rock music. Jake flinched, letting out an undignified yelp before launching into a fit of rage, smacking Jay’s shoulder repeatedly.

“Turn it down, you idiot!” Jake yelled, while Jay doubled over laughing.

As the music settled to a tolerable level, Jake crossed his arms and sank into the seat. “I heard there’s a new recruit. Can’t wait to meet them,” Jay said, a grin playing on his lips as he focused on the road.

Jake perked up, his interest piqued. “Oh yeah?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. He’d overheard something about it on the phone but hadn’t caught the details.

Jay nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t seen Sunghoon in a while either, so I’ll get to check in with him too.”

Jake grinned to himself, excitement bubbling under his skin. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was also looking forward to seeing Heeseung. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“Off to L’Atelier Rouge we go,” Jay announced, his voice dripping with an exaggerated, fake French accent. Without warning, he slammed down on the gas pedal, sending the car hurtling toward Seoul, their home.

Jake grabbed the edge of his seat, glaring at Jay as the car shot forward like a bullet. “You’re such a reckless driver!”

Jay only laughed harder, the city lights of Seoul shimmering in the distance as they sped toward their next destination.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

authors note: hey lol this was kinda short but !! i start university again on tuesday so updates might be less frequent but ill try my best!! :D sorry its kind of dark and gruesome lol its definitely not my usual but i hope you guys enjoy regardless <3

prev | masterlist | next

taglist: @rebeccaaaaaaaa, @strxwbloody, @shuichi-sama , @pshbites

28 notes · View notes

enhastars · 9 days ago

Text

new chapter out 🫶

THE RED ROOM જ⁀➴ A PARK SUNGHOON FANFICTION

SYNOPSIS ! Y/n had no idea what was in store for her when she applied to work at the most successful restaurant chain in Korea; L'atelier Rouge. She was fresh out of school, desperate, and needing a job and Sunghoon was right there to give her one. there was one small detail left out of the application form, however, and it left y/n itching to find out the truth-- why so many people disappeared around the same time as their grand evening parties. what was really going on behind the scenes of such a shady business? and how does Sunghoon always manage to keep his commerce afloat? Welcome to the red room. we hope you enjoy your stay.

FEATURING — PARK SUNGHOON x FEMALE READER

GENRE! thriller, horror, murder mystery, there are mild mentions of cannibalism and gore, i'm sorry!! sunghoon is terrifying but he's actually the good guy in the end, mentions of drug use, criminal activity, and abuse.

WARNINGS! NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. viewer discretion is advised.

STATUS! ONGOING , sporadic updates

ᯓ★ AUTHOR NOTE hey this fic is definitely not pretty 😭 it's not my usual, but I found this idea in my drafts from 3 years ago and i decided to make it enhypen based! i initially got inspired when i watched documentaries of billionaire life styles & the fucked up shit they do, and this is merely to highlight these real life horrors and not to promote them! i do not condone anything that occurs in this fic, and nothing said or done reflects the members in real life. this is purely fiction. hope you enjoy it! :D

TAGLIST IS OPEN, SEND AN ASK OR COMMENT TO JOIN!

CHAPTER ONE — NUIT ÉTOILÉE

CHAPTER TWO — PÉTILLANTE

CHAPTER THREE — EFFRAYER

++ more to come!

133 notes · View notes

enhastars · 9 days ago

Text

THE RED ROOM જ⁀➴ CHAPTER TWO

AT THE RESTAURANT, OCT 13TH

Y/N hadn’t expected to see so many people in line, waiting to dine in for breakfast when she arrived at the restaurant the next morning. She had barely slept the night before, her nerves keeping her awake, and even now her palms were slick with sweat. She wiped them hastily on her dress shirt before walking past the waiting crowd, a growing sense of existential dread tightening in her stomach. With how out of it she’d been last night, she hadn’t considered that her new coworkers might not like her. What if they tried to get her fired?

No, that was ridiculous. This was her first job, after all—surely they’d take pity on her.

Most of the people in the lobby bustling around seemed like ordinary travelers, much like herself. Suitcases clustered near the glass revolving doors, and sunburned children darted between harried parents. Y/N had arrived surprisingly early, a small victory considering she was running on four hours of sleep and two shots of espresso. The wealthy guests probably attended evening events; no one here seemed particularly out of the ordinary.

She shuddered at the thought of serving those intimidating people, though she wasn’t planning to be the center of attention—like a host might be.

Before she could step into the dining area, a stranger stopped her and smiled.

"Hey! You must be the new starter?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily startled by the voice cutting through her thoughts. The man standing before her had a kind smile, the sort that seemed to radiate warmth. It caught her off guard, making her wonder if she was just imagining the friendliness. Maybe it was her nerves playing tricks on her again.

His neatly parted black hair gleamed under the kitchen's fluorescent lights, and his brown eyes had a soft, almost feline-like quality. She felt her pulse quicken—how was everyone here so intimidatingly put together?

"That’s me," Y/N replied, willing her voice to stay steady. She forced a small smile, hoping it hid how overwhelmed she felt.

“Nice to meet you. It’s been a while since we got a new addition to the crew—especially a girl.”

The man’s voice was light yet confident, as if he was used to welcoming newcomers like her. Y/N’s gaze flicked to the polished name tag pinned neatly to his shirt: Yang. Family name, she noted.

“Thank you, Mr. Yang,” she replied, forcing her voice to steady despite the faint waver she could hear.

For a second, his expression froze in mild surprise, as though he wasn’t accustomed to such formality. Then his lips quirked into an amused grin, and he rubbed his forehead with his palm.

“Just Jungwon is fine,” he said with a short laugh. “We’re probably around the same age anyway.”

Jungwon extended his hand, and Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it. His grip was firm, his fingers rough and calloused—an undeniable testament to long hours spent in a demanding industry. Despite his easy demeanor, the handshake reminded her that this man wasn’t someone to underestimate.

“Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. It’s really early,” he added with a slightly sheepish tilt of his head.

Y/N managed a small smile as he handed her the menu he’d been holding. She almost stumbled under its weight; it was larger than she’d anticipated, bound with a thick black fabric that was soft but sturdy. Gold letters gleamed under the overhead lights, spelling out God's Menu in elegant script. The name piqued her curiosity, but she tucked the thought away for later.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the crew,” Jungwon said, motioning for her to follow. He adjusted a gold-encrusted belt over his apron with a practiced motion before heading toward the dining area.

As Y/N trailed after him, she found herself taking in the grandeur of her surroundings. The dining room was more opulent than anything she’d ever seen—like something pulled straight from a period drama. Ornate chandeliers hung from the soaring ceilings, their golden light casting a warm glow across the room. Maroon curtains framed every window, their thick folds cascading down to the floor like velvet waterfalls. Towering black marble columns lined the space, their glossy surfaces so polished they reflected the chandeliers’ light.

She trailed her fingers along the edge of a nearby table as they passed, the linen smooth and cool beneath her touch. Across the room, a stage loomed in the distance, its polished wood floor gleaming under subtle spotlights. She could almost imagine it coming alive during an evening performance, filled with laughter or music.

It was breathtaking—every detail deliberate yet effortless.

Y/N’s stomach fluttered as she adjusted the menu in her hands, trying to steady her breathing. How could she possibly fit in here?

“Sunoo, for the last time, I’m not doing that!”

The sudden shout jolted Y/N from her thoughts. She flinched, the clang of metal ringing out a moment later. Her eyes darted toward Jungwon, who didn’t so much as bat an eye. He pushed open a set of heavy steel doors leading into the kitchen.

“Listen, I’m just spitballing here!” a voice whined as they stepped inside.

Y/N blinked, her eyes widening at the chaos unfolding before her. A blonde man—presumably Sunoo—was practically dancing out of the way of a ladle hurtling through the air. The weapon’s sender stood across the kitchen island: a man with crimson-colored hair and piercing eyes. Even from a distance, his sharp gaze made her want to shrink into herself.

The two men were dressed in aprons, but each was unique—Sunoo’s was embroidered with intricate floral patterns, while the other’s bore minimalist geometric shapes. As Y/N glanced around, she noticed no two uniforms looked alike. It was a small detail, but it only added to the surreal atmosphere of the place.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jungwon demanded, exasperation heavy in his tone.

“Wonnie, Heeseung’s being an asshole!” Sunoo called out, his voice dripping with mock indignation.

“Can you tell this son of a bitch to mind his own business?” Heeseung retorted, rolling his eyes.

Sunoo gasped, his expression the picture of betrayal, before reaching for a stray chopstick to retaliate.

“Woah, woah, calm down,” Jungwon interrupted, snatching the chopstick out of Sunoo’s hand before it could escalate further. “You guys are making this place look like a zoo in front of the poor new girl.”

At Jungown’s words, both Sunoo and Heeseung froze mid-motion, their eyes snapping toward Y/N. They looked at her incredulously, as if they hadn't seen a woman in years.

Her stomach churned under their stares. She clutched the menu a little tighter, suddenly feeling like the spotlight was burning too brightly on her.

“This is all Heeseung’s fault!” Sunoo exclaimed, his grin returning as he strode toward her. The warmth in his expression was almost blinding, and Y/N swore for a moment she was staring into the sun itself. Did everyone here have such radiant smiles?

“Y/N, right? The boss told me about you,” Sunoo said.

His voice was lighter than she’d expected, catching her off guard. Freckles dusted his face, and dimples appeared as he smiled. There was an effortless charm about him that made Y/N’s nerves simmer down, if only slightly.

“Don’t listen to him; he’s the real devil,” Heeseung cut in, his smirk sharp and teasing.

Y/N offered a polite laugh, though her gaze stayed locked on Sunoo, unwilling to meet Heeseung’s eyes. Something about his presence made her skin prickle, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“What's her position?” Sunoo asked, tilting his head toward Jungwon.

“No idea. Boss didn’t tell me.” He shrugged, wiping a cleaver clean.

“General manager, huh? Real thorough,” Sunoo teased, earning yet another tired glare from Jungwon.

Narrowing his eyes, he started twirling a knife in his fingers with a precision that was both impressive and mildly intimidating. For a moment, Y/N thought he might actually throw it. Instead, Sunoo blew him a raspberry, hopping away toward the ovens with the carefree energy of a child.

“He’s like a child,” Y/N muttered under her breath, intending it only for herself.

Heeseung, however, caught it. His sharp, slanted eyes eyes locked onto hers with unsettling accuracy.

“He’s immature, sure,” Heeseung said, pulling on a pair of plastic gloves with deliberate slowness, “but he’s got a pure soul.” He leaned back against the counter behind him, crossing one leg over the other in a way that seemed too casual to be uncalculated. “That’s his best quality. Don’t think too lowly of him.”

Heeseung’s gaze remained fixed on her, drilling into her as if he were daring her to disagree. Y/N swallowed hard, offering a small nod before looking anywhere but at him. A few minutes ago, Heeseung had been arguing with Sunoo; now he sounded almost protective. The sudden shift in mood was disorienting.

“Dude, leave her alone. You’re scaring her,” Jungwon said with a roll of his eyes, his arms crossed in an authoritative, almost sassy stance.

“Nonsense,” Heeseung replied smoothly, slipping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders before she could react. Her entire body stiffened at the unexpected contact. “We’re already friends, aren’t we?”

Y/N blinked up at him, utterly dumbfounded, but managed a noncommittal hum of agreement. This guy was so strange. Almost as strange as Park Sunghoon from last night.

“Yeah, totally,” she mumbled, grimacing when Heeseung gave her back a hearty pat, seemingly satisfied.

“I’m not sure what position you’ll fill,” Heeseung said, stepping back and adjusting his gloves. “But I’m the Executive Chef here. What I say, goes.”

Y/N gave a small nod. Truthfully, she had no idea what position she was supposed to take either. She’d applied on a whim and somehow ended up here. What would Sunghoon assign her to do? She tried not to think about it, but “janitor” seemed like the most realistic option.

“Jungwon over here is the general manager, which means he always has a stick up his ass,” Heeseung added with a smirk.

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Despite his unnerving demeanor, Heeseung was undeniably funny.

“That’s enough,” Jungwon said with an exaggerated sigh, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward, betraying his amusement.

“Yeah, Jungwon, you really need to get laid!” Sunoo’s voice rang out from across the kitchen, loud and unapologetic.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in this time—she laughed, a genuine, bright sound that echoed in the chaotic kitchen. It caught everyone’s attention. Sunoo, Heeseung, and Jungwon all turned to her, their surprise evident.

Jungwon recovered first, pointing a finger at Sunoo. “I’m so going to get you for that,” he threatened, though his tone lacked any real malice.

Sunoo simply grinned, forming a heart with his fingers before skipping off toward the ovens again.

“You have a cute laugh,” Heeseung said abruptly, ruffling Y/N’s hair gently as if she were a kid.

“Thanks,” she murmured, looking away as her cheeks flushed. She didn’t know why heat rushed to her face at the comment, but when a good-looking guy compliments you, what else are you supposed to do?

“Not as cute as Jake’s, though. But still.” He continued, a soft smile growing on his face.

The moment the name “Jake” left Heeseung’s lips, Jungwon and Sunoo groaned simultaneously.

“You and Jake again? Just fucking date already,” Jungwon grumbled.

“I’m sorry, what K-drama episode is this?” Sunoo asked, deadpan.

Heeseung scoffed, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “You’re just jealous someone actually likes me.”

Jungwon and Sunoo gasped in unison, spinning toward him with exaggerated expressions of mock offense.

Y/N stifled a giggle, marveling at how easily their banter shifted between tense and ridiculous. The dynamic in the kitchen was chaotic, but it felt oddly warm– inviting, even.

She opened her mouth to ask who this ‘Jake’ was when the kitchen doors slammed open.

All heads turned instinctively toward the sound.

Now, Y/n hadn’t been attracted to any man ever since experiencing a very messy breakup with her ex– yet all those years of celibacy had flew out the window the moment she saw who just sauntered in. He had long, luscious locks of black hair and the plumpest lips he’d ever seen; even on a girl. The man looked like he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep in years but it managed to make him look even more attractive. His figure was lean, but you could see through his see-through blouse how toned his biceps were. She couldn’t help but stare.

There’s nothing wrong with thinking your coworker is attractive, Y/n. She consoled herself.

“You’re late,” Heeseung said flatly, his tone laced with just enough disapproval to sound believable. He straightened from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

Riki strode in without a trace of apology, his expression a mix of irritation and defiance. He dropped his crossbody Prada bag onto the floor as casually as if it were a grocery tote.

Y/N blinked, unable to hide her disbelief. He just put a Prada bag on the floor. Not even she would do that, and she’d grown up in a pretty well-off family.

“Sorry, your majesty,” Riki quipped, smirking as he pulled a black bandana from his pocket and tied it around his head to push his bangs out of his face. The gesture was quick and practiced, his fingers moving deftly. Y/N noticed how his confidence exuded throughout the room, and she quickly looked away with a blush on her cheeks.

“Riki, you’re on dish duty tonight. Jung-Hoon’s still sick,” Jungwon announced, tossing him a stained washcloth and gesturing toward the sink with a tilt of his chin.

“Are you serious?” Riki groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I swear he’s just saying that to get out of work.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sunoo chimed in, laughing as he patted Riki’s shoulder in mock sympathy. “Rules are rules.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to suppress a grin. She was beginning to think she might enjoy this strange, lively environment.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the minutes turned into an hour, the kitchen transformed into a full-fledged operation. Waiters and servers bustled in and out, balancing trays of empty plates or carefully scrawling order notes onto slips of paper. Sunoo, one of the fastest and most efficient among them, barely paused to catch his breath as he dropped another set of orders onto the counter near the chefs. The cooks moved like clockwork, passing sauces and side dishes to sous-chefs, who quickly returned them plated and garnished.

Y/N couldn’t help but be captivated by the precision. The staff worked in such perfect sync, their movements calculated yet fluid. And then there was her—awkwardly lingering at the edges of the chaos, feeling more like an outsider with each passing minute.

“Hey, what is this girl doing here?”

The shout cut through the noise, and Y/N felt her stomach drop as a few heads turned in her direction.

She was frozen in place, caught off guard, but before she could answer, Riki’s voice piped up from near the bathrooms.

“Who, David hyung?” Riki was adjusting a tie in a small wall-mounted mirror, his tone casual. His hair had been tied back with a hair tie, of all things, and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he actually intended to leave it that way.

She hesitated, awkwardly raising her hand in a half-hearted wave. She’d been standing near Heeseung moments ago, but he had wandered off to argue with a waitress.

“Oh,” Riki said, his tone brightening when he finally noticed her. “So you must be the new hire. Wait here, I’ll find Sunghoon-hyung for you.”

Y/N nodded, though disappointment flickered faintly in her chest. She’d been hoping to introduce herself properly, but everyone just seemed too busy.

“Nishimura here, has anyone seen Mr. Park yet?” Riki’s voice came through a walkie-talkie clipped to his ear as he pushed his way out of the kitchen doors. And just like that, he was gone again.

Y/N tried to keep herself out of everyone’s way, retreating to the quieter area near the cold storage. Curiosity tugged at her, though, and she couldn’t resist peeking into the walk-in fridge. She was curious– too much for her own good, her mother would tell him, so she felt an urge to go inside. It’s not like there's much in there anyway, but she wanted to explore every part of this place to familiarize herself. After all, she did plan on working here for a while.

While nobody was looking (which no one was in the first place), she walked inside the ventilation room which didn’t have a door. The temperature dropped sharply as she stepped inside, her breath puffing in small clouds. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with imported fruits, bread, vegetables, and neatly labeled containers. She noted the gleaming steel doors on either side of the room, their surfaces polished enough to reflect her face. Her breath came out in small puffs, hot smoke emitting from his her.

Her fingers brushed against one of the handles, but something in her stomach twisted—an instinctive unease she couldn’t quite place. Get yourself together. It’s just a freezer, she told herself, exhaling slowly.

She stepped closer, her hand hovering over the keypad next to the door. It required a code to unlock. Y/N sighed, letting her arm fall back to her side. No use poking around where she didn’t belong.

“What are you doing here?”

The low, cutting voice came from directly behind her, so close she felt the heat of their breath.

Y/N froze, a startled gasp slipping from her lips. Her heart jumped to her throat as she spun around.

Speak of the devil.

Park Sunghoon stood there, his expression hard and unyielding, his dark eyes sharp enough to pierce through her. His brows were furrowed, and his clenched jaw only added to the intensity of his glare. She started trembling, an uneasy feeling washing over her as she felt her limbs go numb.

“I asked you a question.” His face was contorted with rage, hostile gaze boring into her eyes. and Y/n swore she had never felt more terrified in her life. She was paralyzed to the spot, the menacing aura holding her in a tightening grip.

“I— I didn’t mean to—” Y/N stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

His hand slammed against the door behind her, just inches from her head. The metallic clang echoed in the small room, and she flinched instinctively. Y/n took two steps backward, recoiling herself as much as she could. Sunghoon mimicked this, taking two steps forward until their faces were inches apart.

Her mind was whirling, confusion and fear etched on her face. She didn’t know what provoked this type of reaction, as the same playful Sunghoon from last night seemed to have dissapated. Y/n did not like this new version at all.

“Get out,” he spat, his voice cold and venomous.

“What?” Y/N blinked, unsure if she’d heard him correctly.

“I said, get out. Now.”

The command snapped her out of her daze. She slipped under his arm and bolted for the door, her pulse pounding as she emerged back into the bustling kitchen.

“Never come here again, you understand?” Sunghoon’s voice followed her, sharp and unrelenting.

She didn’t turn around, couldn’t turn around. Her legs carried her forward on autopilot, her body reeling from the encounter.

That was a close one, Sunghoon thought to himself, his sharp gaze lingering on the door Y/N had fled through moments ago. He hadn’t planned on firing her—not for something as trivial as this. Other people had made the same mistake before, and Y/N was far too important for his future plans to let go.

If I go through with it, that is, he reminded himself, the thought laced with calculated restraint. There were still details to finalize, conversations to have with his affiliates.

He exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable as he turned back toward the steel door. His fingers moved with practiced ease, punching in the security code. The small beep echoed faintly in the stillness of the room. The heavy door clicked open, and he slipped inside, the cold air biting against his skin. Without hesitation, he reached for the keypad on the interior wall and locked the door behind him, ensuring no one else could follow.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Y/N’s feet didn’t stop moving until she was safely out of the cold storage area and back into the bustling kitchen. The warmth of the space wrapped around her like a shield, but her heart was still hammering against her ribs. She pressed a hand to her chest, willing herself to calm down.

She scanned the room, searching for something—anything—to ground her. Her gaze landed on Riki, who had just returned, casually sliding into the room with a clipboard in hand. He glanced up, immediately noticing the strained look on her face.

“So I couldn’t find Sunghoon, but you can work with Sunoo as a—Hey, are you okay?”

His teasing tone disappeared, replaced by genuine concern. Riki tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied her.

Y/N tried to respond, but her throat felt tight, and her voice caught before she could form words.

“Y/N?” His tone softened, and he took a cautious step closer. The sudden shift in his demeanor, from playful to protective, nearly unraveled her completely.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, though her voice cracked slightly. She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears threatening to spill to retreat. She hated feeling like this—so vulnerable, so exposed.

Riki frowned, not buying her answer. Without saying anything, he stepped forward and wrapped her in a short, loose hug. It was quick, just enough to let her feel the comfort of another person’s presence.

Y/N froze for a moment, startled by the gesture. Then she let herself relax, if only slightly. She already had the craziest past 24 hours, so a hug was really what she needed right now– even if its from a total stranger she had just met. Her childhood butler would kill himself if he knew what she was doing, the hilarious thought making her feel slightly better.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

He pulled back, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “Look, I don’t know what happened, and I know we just met, but we’re technically family now.” His voice was quiet, almost careful, as if he didn’t want to overwhelm her further. “If something’s wrong, you come to me, okay?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure whether to trust him. He seemed sincere, but then again, so had Sunghoon when they first met. Still, she nodded.

“Good,” Riki said with a simple smile, as if that settled everything. He straightened up just as Sunoo walked by, arms full of freshly folded linens.

“Riki, they need you out front,” Sunoo called, not bothering to stop as he breezed past them.

Riki sighed dramatically, giving Y/N one last look. “I’ll be back. Don’t let Sunoo boss you around too much.”

“Hey!” Sunoo called from across the room, his tone indignant.

Riki grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender as he headed for the doors.

Sunoo turned to Y/N once Riki was gone, his easygoing smile immediately putting her at ease. “Well, since you’re stuck with me for now, let’s keep it simple for your first day.” He handed a notepad and pen to Y/n, who took it with grace.

“Just watch what I do, and if you have any questions, ask away.”

“Thanks, Sunoo,” Y/N said softly, grateful for his straightforwardness.

He smiled wider and led her out to the dining area, where the atmosphere was entirely different from the chaos of the kitchen. Guests sat at elegantly set tables, the low hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware filling the air. The chandeliers overhead cast a warm, golden light, and the scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the rich aroma of sauces and grilled meats.

Y/N followed Sunoo closely, observing as he navigated the room with practiced ease. He moved quickly but never appeared rushed, greeting guests with a polite smile and taking orders with precision.

“You have to be exact,” Sunoo explained as he scribbled a note onto his pad. “A single mistake, and the chefs will make you regret it.”

Y/N nodded, hurriedly writing down his advice. She couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he handled everything, even when a guest became visibly impatient.

The next hour passed in a blur of activity. Y/N trailed after Sunoo like a shadow, trying to absorb everything she could. Despite her initial nerves, she found herself growing fascinated by the rhythm of it all—the way everyone had a role to play, how every detail mattered. She also liked the blonde’s company, as his extroverted personality made her feel at ease.

By the time they reached their fifth table, Y/N was starting to feel more comfortable. That is, until a petite girl wearing a black mask approached her, her dark eyes sharp and focused.

“Mr. Park told me to give you this,” the girl said simply, handing over a small post-it note.

Y/N’s heart sank the moment she heard his name. Her hands trembled slightly as she unfolded the note.

Meet me in my office by 2:30. No company. – President Sunghoon

Her stomach churned, a familiar dread creeping up her spine.

“Is everything okay?” Sunoo asked, noticing the way her face had paled.

Y/N forced a nod, quickly folding the note and slipping it into her pocket. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just... an orientation thing, I think.”

Sunoo didn’t seem entirely convinced but didn’t press further. “If you say so.”

Y/N tried to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept circling back to the note. She didn’t know what the man wanted, but she doubted it was anything good.

How fun.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

author note: ahhh what is he gonna say?? 👀 also im sorry if the character descriptions are weird, i was trying to figure out which member fit which role best (i switched heeseung and jay last minute bc heejake <3 and 02z supremacy). thank you for all the love!! hope you enjoyed! not beta read! (we die like men), wc: 4.4k

prev | masterlist | next

taglist: @rebeccaaaaaaaa, @strxwbloody, @shuichi-sama , @pshbites

33 notes · View notes

enhastars · 10 days ago

Text

THE RED ROOM જ⁀➴ CHAPTER ONE

2:00 AM, OCT. 12TH

Y/n hated the club. The pounding music rattled her skull, and the kaleidoscope of blue, purple, and pink lights turned the room into a blur of chaos she couldn’t quite escape. Yet here she was again, perched on a bar stool, nursing a whiskey that barely burned anymore. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t even want to be here. So why did her feet always drag her back to this place that fed her exhaustion more than her soul? Old habits die hard, I guess.

The bartender silently filled her empty shot glass with more alcohol, and without a word, she swallowed it in one gulp. It stung, but the bitter flavor kept her grounded in reality. It kept her awake.

Her headache felt like a dull, relentless throb now, and she could feel herself slipping further from sobriety with each shot she forced down. Pathetic—that’s what it was, and she knew it. Wallowing in her sorrows at a nightclub because her fifth job application had been rejected. Five. Ever since graduation, her father had cut her off entirely, insisting it was “time for her to grow up”—whatever *the fuck* that meant.

Not that she dared argue with the man. Her father had a talent for making things worse. Push him too far, and she’d probably find her bank account frozen or her credit cards mysteriously deactivated. The idea of being a homeless drunk—the estranged daughter of a famous politician, no less—would have been funny if it weren’t her life at stake. She let out a bitter laugh. Oh, the scandal that would unleash.

“Hey, miss, your phone’s dinging,” the bartender muttered, breaking through the haze of alcohol clogging her brain. She could barely make out his silhouette, much less what they were saying. She waved them off with a lazy nod, assuming it was just another spam notification.

But the phone kept buzzing. Annoyed, she fumbled for it, her fingers unsteady as she tried to unlock the screen. Face ID barely worked with how much her hands were trembling, but after a few tries, the lock screen slid away. Her bleary vision struggled to focus on the message, but the words at the top stopped her cold.

Unknown: Hey Ms. L/N! We have reviewed your application and decided you seem fit enough to work for our corporation. You are required to follow the rules in the links I sent below and to bring your ID and Driver's License with you on your first day. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. L/N. Thank you for deciding to work for L’Atelier Rouge. Links of application Links for working rules + etiquette Sincerely, the President

She read the words twice, her heart pounding faster with each line. Then a third time, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.

Holy shit.

She stared at the screen, her pulse racing as the words fully sunk in. You’re hired. At L’Atelier Rouge.

Her brain was swimming with alcohol, but even in her intoxicated state, she could tell she wasn’t imagining it.. It didn’t make sense—she wasn’t anything special, just a Psychology graduate trying to scrape together a living. But right now, none of that mattered.

A surge of energy shot through her, banishing the weight of the night as she practically launched herself off the barstool. The room spun for a moment, but she didn’t care. She felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, grinning wide enough to make her cheeks ache.

Grabbing her car keys, she shoved her chair back into place and threw on her black denim jacket. Drunk logic told her it was a great idea to drive to L’Atelier Rouge at 2 a.m. and… do what, exactly? She didn’t know, but that didn’t stop her.

“Hey, young lady! You’re not thinking of driving, are you?” The bouncer at the door gave her a hesitant look, his hand hovering near the doorframe as though ready to stop her.

She flashed a crooked smile, hiccupping as she gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Don’t… don’t worry. I’m fine.”

The bouncer hesitated but eventually stepped aside. Pretty stupid move on his part, but it was too late to take it back now. She stumbled into the night, her headache forgotten. Whether it was the fresh air or the thrill of finally securing a job, she didn’t know, and honestly, she didn’t care.

For the first time in weeks, she felt alive.

The night was still young, and the streets outside were unusually quiet. The crescent moon hung low, its silvery glow barely lighting the sidewalk as Y/N staggered along. On any other night, she might’ve admired the stars or the peaceful chill in the air, but tonight she could barely keep her footing. The cold burned her lungs with each breath, and the alcohol buzzing through her system didn’t help.

Her denim jacket shielded her from the worst of the cold, but she still pulled it tighter as she made her way to the car. She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d thought coming here was a good idea. Some desperate need to prove herself? To do *something*? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was too far gone to turn back now.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, she stared at the steering wheel for a moment before jamming the key into the ignition. "Fuck it. YOLO," she muttered under her breath, ignoring the voice in the back of her mind warning her to stop. If the cops pulled her over, well… her dad would bail her out. Begrudgingly, but he would.

The drive was mostly uneventful, though her lack of coordination earned her an angry honk and a middle finger when she nearly sideswiped another car. Y/N grumbled to herself, blaming the other driver as she focused hard on Google Maps guiding her to her destination.

When she finally pulled up to the restaurant, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. Even in her tipsy state, L’Atelier Rouge looked magnificent, as if it belonged in another world entirely.

Tall marble columns flanked the entrance, their surfaces glowing faintly in the moonlight. Neon-red lights lit up the bold lettering above the doors, and two massive stone lions stood guard on either side of the pathway. Y/N swore the statue’s eyes followed her as she parked the car, and a chill ran down her spine.

The circular driveway wrapped around a small fountain, adorned with cherubic figures spouting water from their mouths. It was stunning in its detail but unsettlingly out of place in the middle of Seoul. The sleek luxury cars and black limousines lining the lot only added to the surreal atmosphere.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, gripping the steering wheel tightly. What was she even doing here? She could just turn back, pretend this impulsive decision never happened. But she was already here, and if she backed out now, she’d never forgive herself.

Pushing open the car door, she made her way to the towering glass entrance.

The air inside was warm, a sharp contrast to the night outside. She was immediately hit with the cloying scent of floral incense, mingled with the lingering aroma of roasted meat and rich wine. Her stomach growled audibly, and she quickly glanced around to make sure no one heard it. The restaurant’s interior was even more extravagant than its exterior. Three massive fountains lined the marble lobby, their cascading waters catching the glow of the ornate chandelier hanging overhead. Vines of faux flowers draped artfully over every corner, and the checkered black-and-white floor guided her toward the reception desk.

And then she saw him.

Standing under the chandelier was a man talking to what was seemingly an employee. His sharp yet pale features were lit by the warm light above, and his deeply furrowed brows gave him a serious, almost intimidating expression. Something about him radiated authority, the kind of presence that filled a room without trying.

Y/N froze, unsure of what to do. Should she approach him? Was he someone important? And why is he so damn handsome? She didn’t even know his name, but something about the way he carried himself told her he wasn’t just another employee. Before she could decide, his gaze momentarily shifted to her, locking eyes with hers.

“Hey, newbie!” he called out, his serious expression melting into a disarming smile.

Y/N's face burned with embarrassment. Newbie? How did he already know who she was? She awkwardly shuffled closer, suddenly hyperaware of how she must look and—oh god—how she must smell.

“Jesus, you reek of alcohol,” he said, laughing softly as he dismissed the other employee and stepped toward her.

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled, recoiling slightly as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“So, you must have gotten my email?” he asked casually, looking down at her with an amused expression.

She nodded quickly. “Yeah, I was already out, so…” She trailed off, unsure how to explain her impulsive decision to come here unannounced. A small hiccup escaped her lips, and she wished she could evaporate on the spot.

I wish I was dead.

He chuckled, his grip on her shoulder reassuring rather than intimidating. “Well, at least you’re here now. Come on, let’s talk in my office.”

She followed him through the restaurant, past the main dining area, and down a long hallway. The further they went, the more uneasy she felt. The silence was deafening compared to the warmth and calming hum of the lobby. The bright red and gold colors slowly shifted to a dull grey, and the air started smelling like cigarettes and cleaning spray.

After what felt like ages, they finally stopped in front of a large wooden door. Her eyes widened as she noticed the numerous locks lining its edges, and at the top, engraved in bold, elegant letters, was a name: Park Sunghoon, President.

So that was his name. Reading the word “President” nearly prompted her to throw up on the spot.

Her stomach twisted. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she certainly hadn’t imagined the owner of a place like this to be so… approachable. Or intimidating. Or both.

“Go ahead, take a seat,” he said, opening the door and gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

Y/N hesitated, glancing at the chaotic mess of papers, coffee cups, and Post-it notes scattered across the desk. The only clean space was the small area around his computer, seemingly big enough only to fit his arms. Despite her nerves, she sat down, trying to suppress the wave of nausea creeping up her throat.

“Relax,” he said, leaning back in his chair and lighting a cigarette. The sharp smell of smoke filled the air, and Y/N waved it away with a cough.

“You look like a deer in headlights,” he teased, his voice playful with an edge of venom. “I’m not going to eat you.”

She laughed nervously, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Sorry. Just anxious, I guess.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease that felt oddly rehearsed. His mischievous smile returned, but there was something beneath it—something she couldn’t quite place. “Come back tomorrow, sober this time, and I’ll introduce you to the team.”

Y/N’s heart lifted, relief flooding her chest like a warm tide. “Really?” she asked, her voice tinged with cautious optimism.

Sunghoon’s head tilted slightly as his gaze lingered on her, assessing. His smile deepened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course,” he said, his voice almost too smooth. “You’ll fit right in here.”

Something about the way he said it made her pause, but before she could dwell on it, he stood abruptly and gestured toward the door.

“Get some rest. You’ll need your energy.”

Y/N nodded and offered a polite smile, though her nerves made it falter. As she stepped out into the night, the tension she hadn’t even realized was weighing on her shoulders began to ease. The cool air hit her like a welcome embrace, soothing the warmth of her flushed cheeks.

But even as she walked to her car, she couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched.

From the glass doors, Sunghoon’s figure was barely visible in the dim lobby. His sharp gaze followed her every step, his smile unwavering as though frozen in place. When she glanced back toward the building, her stomach flipped—his silhouette was still there, standing perfectly still.

She looked away quickly, shaking her head. You’re imagining things, she told herself, gripping her car keys tightly. The night had been strange enough without her paranoia adding to it.

Back inside, the faint click of the front door locking echoed through the now-silent restaurant. Sunghoon turned, his expression unreadable, and strode toward the kitchen with purposeful steps.

The atmosphere shifted as he entered, the soft hum of the refrigeration units doing little to mask the growing tension in the air. Pausing beside the walk-in freezer, he ran a hand along the edge of the wall, his fingers finding a hidden keypad. With practiced precision, he punched in a code.

A faint beep followed, and a section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness. The temperature dropped noticeably as he stepped inside, and the faint scent of copper and antiseptic hung in the air.

At the bottom of the staircase, the muffled sounds of screams broke through the stillness, distant but unmistakable.

Sunghoon stopped momentarily, his head tilting as if savoring the sound. His grin stretched unnaturally wide, sharp, and feral in the dim light.

“How exciting,” he murmured, his voice a low purr that echoed off the cold walls.

He stepped forward, the door sliding shut behind him with a metallic clang, sealing him—and his secrets—away from the quiet night above.

author note: first chapter! it's a little short (2k words), and im not sure how to format this on tumblr lolll but i hope you guys enjoy :D taglist is open!

masterlist | next

#sunghoon #sunghoon x female reader #sunghoon x you #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fanfic #enhypen au #enhypen #enha #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha smau #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #jungwon #heeseung #nishimura riki #sunoo

50 notes · View notes

enhastars · 10 days ago

Text

THE RED ROOM જ⁀➴ A PARK SUNGHOON FANFICTION

SYNOPSIS ! Y/n had no idea what was in store for her when she applied to work at the most successful restaurant chain in Korea; L'atelier Rouge. She was fresh out of school, desperate, and needing a job and Sunghoon was right there to give her one. There was one small detail left out of the application form, however, and it left Y/n itching to find out the truth-- why so many people disappeared around the same time as their grand evening parties. What was really going on behind the scenes of such a shady business? And how does Sunghoon always manage to keep his commerce afloat? Welcome to The Red Room. We hope you enjoy your stay.

FEATURING — PARK SUNGHOON x FEMALE READER

WARNINGS! NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. viewer discretion is advised.

STATUS! ONGOING , sporadic updates

TAGLIST IS OPEN, SEND AN ASK OR COMMENT TO JOIN!

CHAPTER ONE — NUIT ÉTOILÉE

CHAPTER TWO — PÉTILLANTE

CHAPTER THREE — EFFRAYER

CHAPTER FOUR — RÊVEUSE

++ more to come!

133 notes · View notes

enhastars · 11 days ago

Note

Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/58268669 🔗

any donation or exposure helps!! may Allah protect you and your family ❤️

1 note · View note

enhastars · 12 days ago

Text

XOXO, gossip girl — 제이크

❨ those you trust most cause the most harm ❩

they say the truth always comes out. that’s exactly what’ll destroy everything for you. at decelis academy, where classmates separate into cliques, trust is fragile and popularity is currency, a ruthless gossip blog begins tearing down the carefully crafted lives of the elite students. when your own world is at risk of crashing down, you turn to the head of decelis’ computer club, hoping the help of a scholarship nerd could get you to shut down the site for good. (and not just for your own sake. to put an end to the bullying once and for all.) and through your little investigations which you were growing to love, you start to wonder—what if the real danger isn't the truth itself, but the one who's telling it?

— 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ; pairing: nerd ! sim jaeyun x elite rich girl! f. reader, wordcount: 9.46k, inspired by gossip girl, warnings include suicide, bullying, mentions of sexual misconduct, abuse, corruption, nepotism..? and a (lil?) bit suggestive (idk guys there’s js so much tension…), cursing, jake is a patronising DICKHEAD, heavy angst lowercase intended

continue reading … ¡!

i. to fly

YOU WERE DESTINED to fly.

being born into the l/n family gave you no choice but to be. the name was synonymous with wealth and competition, your parents owning one of the biggest department stores of your country and investing in shares all over the world. you inherited those wings since birth — but they were never your own. an inheritance you couldn’t escape. the wings came shackled with chains, heavy and cruel. chains that bruised, cutting deep into both your flesh and spirit, forcing you to keep flying no matter how much it hurt.

your father made sure of it.

it was rude of you and you knew it, but hearing your dense friends ramble on about how they ‘couldn’t get the new iphone 16,’ or that their ‘parents are being bitchy’ simply for placing boundaries did more then infuriate. if only anyone knew.

it wasn’t just physical abuse you experienced, it was mental torture. walking around the empty halls of your luxurious family apartment, your eyes would always be downcast, just incase eye contact at the wrong time with your dad would trigger him off. bruises didn’t just dot around on your skin — they pressured into the depths of your brain, making you paranoid doing even the slightest of what your dad would find disappointing. it altered your brain wiring to constantly be in fight or flight mode, and it made you quite literally miserable. your wings came shackled with chains, heavy and cruel. chains that bruised, cutting deep into both flesh and spirit, forcing you to keep flying no matter how much it hurt.

the only thing you’d been told your whole life was to be quiet. that silence was virtue, a pristine image of modesty. but it was a lesson you learnt long ago, that exercising your right to silence did you best. and when you grow up with such pressure, with your own image, you have to learn to fly. without a smile on your face, prancing around the world as if it were your oyster, you'd failed the portrayal of the family. to endure it all. to never fight back. that’s how you live, and how you’ll always live, ‘till the day you die.

at school, though, it was different. it had always been different. and you could only hope that’d never change.

decelis academy was a glittering world of privilege. the ivy-covered walls housed the children of ceos, politicians, and celebrities. the hallways were flooded with designer shoes, luxury handbags, and students who wore their wealth like a badge of honor. it was a place where power reigned supreme.

the elite system was an unspoken hierarchy, a social order dictated by wealth and influence. the richest families sat at the top, their children moving through life with an effortless arrogance. friendships were strategic, alliances fragile. everyone knew their place. the small percentage of scholarship children blended into the background, unseen, unheard, and unspoken of.

at decelis academy, popularity wasn't just a social status—it was a currency. it was what helped you climb the ladder of the hierarchy. and at the bottom of the hierarchy were the scholarship kids.

of course that was what you wanted to change. unlike your families not-so corruption clean background, for the world to be equal was all you’d ever wanted. not just the world you lived in. the world everyone lived in. it was hard to guess where you inherited your kindness from, but it seemed that was what made you all the more popular.

you found it more then absurd that scholarship kids, the smart, hardworking classmates of yours, were treated so harshly. they were but a small percentage of the student body, handpicked for their academic achievements. while their tuition was covered, they often paid another price. in a school like decelis, where wealth was everything, the scholarship kids stood out like ink stains on a pristine page. to you, they were an admirable bunch. because they had to work to the spot they’re at now, and you’d never had to do that. how you’d wished to live a life like theirs, knowing yours is just what they want. it’s selfish, you know it, but nevertheless, you can’t help but daydream on.

it was entirely selfish that you, considering yourself a decent enough person, never did anything about it. the scholarship kids. they were overlooked, ignored, or, in most cases, bullied. snide remarks, whispered insults, and casual, violent and uncalled for cruelty were a part of their everyday reality. and you still chose silence. you stood frozen at any sight of it all, akin to a deer in headlights, as if you couldn’t handle it. but you knew you could, because you’ve seen worse.

your secrets haunt you. day in, day out, your families expectations cloud down on your mind like a weight you haven’t been trained to carry. it doesn’t help that there’s a blog out, targeting everyone else’s.

the blog started small, almost as a joke.

modelled after gossip girl, it had all the hallmarks of teenage drama—a faceless author, a clever writing style, and juicy tidbits about the student body of decelis academy. at first, it was the kind of thing people read with half a smirk, more entertained than alarmed. who was secretly dating who? who was hooking up with who?

it was harmless fun.

until it wasn't.

the blog changed everything when it exposed mr. choi.

choi had been teaching history at decelis for years, and everyone had heard the whispers. the way he lingered too long near certain students, the too-familiar tone in his voice. but no one said anything—after all, he was a respected teacher. the blog, however, doesn��t care about reputation. nor respect. it published screenshots of his inappropriate messages, voice recordings of conversations no teacher should have with a student. the evidence was overwhelming, undeniable. within weeks, mr. choi was arrested for sexual misconduct. the school went into damage control, and for a while, the blog was hailed as a force for good. it had accomplished something the administration either couldn't or wouldn't do: it delivered justice.

but justice never stays pure. not for long.

the blog began digging deeper, shifting from exposing real dangers to airing the dirty secrets of anyone and everyone. one in specific — you still remembered the post about ellie hwang. how couldn't you? ellie hwang, half korean, half british. the face of wealth. she was cheer captain, top of her class (though that one was a little hard to believe) and she always had some boy at her feet. she had it all. or so it seemed.

the blog shattered that image in a single post. it revealed that ellie's father had abandoned their family years ago for a younger lady in australia and her mother was battling a drinking problem. it was too much, too cruel. ellie disappeared after that. nabi hadn't seen her in weeks, and the absence felt like a wound in the foundation of the school, fresh stitches opening to new, dangerous territory. then came the new wave of posts. students from wealthy families were being exposed for everything from fake friendships to family scandals. it felt like a power shift in the elite system, but it wasn't making anything better. it was just a new kind of cruelty, a new way for students to tear each other down.

for you, the blog was a nightmare waiting to happen.

you scrolled through the posts every day with a growing sense of dread, your stomach twisting with each new revelation. most of it from before were just harmless rumors—so-and-so had cheated on a test, someone else was caught making out in the library. what had changed? now, it cuts too deep. and you have secrets. secrets no one at decelis could ever find out. what would happen if the blog turned its sights on you?

you, the golden girl of decelis academy, the kind-hearted daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the country. what would they see if they looked closer? would they see the bruises you hid beneath your designer uniform? the way your father's voice could make you flinch? the nights you spent locked in your room, trembling with gut-wrenching fear?

you’re not sure what scares you more. your secrets coming out, or your inability to do somethimg about it all, waiting and worrying in dread. you knew something bad would happen. you could feel it. an unshakeable fear buried in the low pits or your stomach that reminded you:

you weren’t just destined to fly.

you were destined to fall.

ii. hotline help me out

TO ASK FOR help is to sacrifice your pride.

pride, is something you find yourself lacking in anyways.

the words repeat relentlessly in the depths of your mind like a mantra. you weren't used to asking for help, even so from a classmate you rarely even looked at. to be someone like.. you, meant that you didn't mix with people like sim jaeyun. lower downs. inferiority. that had always been drilled into your mindset from youth, that your social position since birth had always been higher then the others. and yet, you had never really felt like that. you always felt the lowest, smallest of it all.

standing now, infront of the computing room, you felt as small as you ever had been.

the computer lab was dim and quiet, save for the hum of machines and the occasional tap of keys. it wasn't a space most students wandered into unless they had a project due—or, like you, a problem they couldn't solve on their own.

you steeled herself and took a step closer. then another. and yet, he didn't notice you. you wished life played out like that for you all the time, rather then just this one interaction. that you could just disappear into the shadows without a care in the world.

jake sim sat at the far end of the room, earphones brushed passed his messy, fluffy black hair. his face was illuminated by the cool blue glow of his laptop, his too-large black rimmed glasses sat at the edge of his sharp nose bridge. his thick lips were pursed in concentration as his fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, focused and precise. he looked untouchable, locked away in his own little world.

you took a deep breath in efforts of self-motivation and took a step closer. then another. and another.

he still didn't notice you.

"uh," you mutter, clearing your throat. "hi." you say finally, your awkward voice a little too loud in the quiet.

jake didn't move, nor did he respond. his attention was fixed firmly on whatever it was that he was working on, as he bought his lip into his mouth lightly, his earphones clearly well serving their purpose.

"hello?" you tried again, a little louder and certainly more confident this time around.

finally, he glanced up, pulling one ear of his headphones off with a completely unreadable expression. "what?" he asked as he swiveled his chair to look at you. the single syllable was as dismissive as it was blunt, but it wasn't rude. he was interested in what you had to say, which was an experience you'd yet to encounter.

you straightened your broad shoulders as you weakly put your bag down on the table, brushing your perfectly-ironed uniform down per habit. there was no point sugarcoating it. you got straight to the point. "i need your help."

jake leaned back in his chair as he crossed his arms, his legs spread in a thoughtful manspread. his gaze flickered over her briefly, as if assessing whether this interruption really was worth his time. "with.. what, exactly? homework?" there's a slight edge to his voice, and you bristle at the comment.

"excuse me?" you scoff, your tone rising with growing indignation. the audacity of the boy you'd just met! he tilts his head, his eyes narrowing challenging-ly. "what? am i wrong?"

"yes, you very much are. i-" you hesitated. but just as soon as you hesitated, you plunged ahead. "the blog," you begin firmly. "i want it gone."

that got his attention.

his brows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head, a sign of his reluctant interest. by now, jake would've told you to get lost. but your idea is more then just interesting. it breaks stereotypes from jake's eyes -- on girls like you. people like you. he clears his throat. "and you thought i'd be able to help you because...?"

"you're good with computers," you said simply, with a shrug, as if it were worldwide news. "how could you not be? you're the head of a computer club. you must know how to.. like, hack and stuff. ...right?" "is that all you know about computers?" he let out a scoff, eyes narrowing tauntingly, as if to say 'wow, you are are stupid as i thought.' "right. and you thought i'd just drop everything and do that for you because...?"

you met his gaze evenly, your eyes narrowing just as much as his. you're not backing down. being in school, around people who don't confront you with abuse and taunts whenever you dare challenge back shows the real side of yourself. the real y/n. "because it's hurting people."

jake's lips twitched, caught in a strange limbo between shock and trepidation. y/n l/n stood before him, her quiet, barely there confidence radiating like a distant sun, both warm and unreachable. people like her were always unpredictable—maddeningly so. to hear someone like you openly speak about hurting other people was ironic, when it was her own people that took so much effort in doing it themselves.

the memory hit him before he could stop it—a flicker of anguish, sharp and searing, unrelentless.

park seojun.

his best friend. his brother in everything but blood. and the reason he could never look at the basketball team without feeling sick. seojun's face floated to the forefront of his mind: the tired smile he wore like armor, the way his voice cracked under pressure but never broke completely, the faint laugh lines that had disappeared in the weeks before the end.

the end.

it was the bullying that did it.

not the everyday teasing, but the calculated, vicious torment that only an elite could perfect. seojun was a scholarship kid—bright, kind, but painfully aware that he didn't belong. the basketball team had made it their mission to remind him of it. his mind flickers back to ellie hwang, the girl who dated the captain of said team, and how she'd disappeared.

serves the bitch right.

she had never been any better. none of the elites could be any better. but here you stood, right infront of him, and you showed no sign of backing down. it was admirable, in a reluctant sense, he thought.

jake's voice was hoarse by the time he snapped out of his inner torment to question you further. his lips quirked, not quite a smirk, but with the same, cocky intention. "what, people like you?"

your cheeks flushed in shame. he's not completely wrong, and that makes it worse. "people like everyone."

"why do you care, y/n l/n?" he sighs, his tone a mix of exhaustion and, reluctantly, growing respect.

you blinked, surprised by the question. "why wouldn't i care? the things it's posting—it's crossing the line. people are getting hurt over rumors and private stuff that shouldn't even be public."

he stared at you for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "you think that's new?"

you frowned. "no. but this blog is different. it's not just gossip anymore—it's ruining people." you open your mouth, then close it again. your reluctance floats around your mind like a stubborn cloud, before you clasped your hands together finally. "i get it, okay? people like me. rich and entitled. but we all have secrets, jaeyun-"

"jake. not jaeyun."

your cheeks flush a little. "sorry. anyways, we all have secrets, jake, whether we're rich or broke. and whoever is behind it, clearly is going for whoever they can. who says you're not next?" you narrow your eyes to broaden your point. it goes silent for a moment of suspense before he sighs wearily. it’s funny, if only jake knew that those thoughts were exactly what applied to her in this very omen.

"you really have a lot to say, huh?" he grumbles, turning back to his computer. your heart sinks at his seeming dismissal, before scoffing sassily. "well, i clearly am a lot smarter then you think, then."

there was a pause. jake tapped his fingers against the desk, his gaze flicking back to his laptop screen. "fine," he said finally. "i'll look into it."

you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. "thank you."

"don't thank me yet," he muttered, the blog already pulled up on his screen.

you moved around the desk to stand beside him, your curiosity overcoming your discomfort. the blog's homepage was a stark black-and-white layout with bold, snarky headlines dominating the screen. your stomach twisted as you read the titles, each one more biting than the last. who could be doing this?

"any idea who's behind it?" jake asked, his tone almost lazy as he clicked through the posts.

"no," you admitted. "do… you?" you added on, wincing at the sheer awkwardness of your own voice. he glanced at you briefly, then back at the screen. "not yet."

his fingers flew over the keyboard, opening tabs, checking page sources, and scanning for any sign of identifiable information. you watched in silence, amazed by how quickly he worked. "it's hosted on a generic platform," he said after a while, his voice low. "nothing here points to an individual. whoever's behind it knows what they're doing."

your stomach sank. "so... what now?"

"i'll keep digging," jake said, his tone clipped. "but don't expect miracles."

you frowned, feeling the sharp edge of his words. most scholarship kids would act like how they’re assigned. lower. weaker. smaller. but right now, in front of sim jaeyun, you felt it the other way around.

"this isn't some movie where we hack into a system and find a big flashing sign saying, 'here's your culprit,'" he added, his eyes never leaving the screen as his typing grew more aggressive. "it takes time. effort. patience."

you crossed your arms, trying to ignore the irritation creeping up your spine. "i get it. but if anyone can do it, it's you. so i’m waiting.” his fingers hesitated for the briefest second before resuming their steady rhythm. you had belief in him, with a side of trust. that was new.

"what about patterns?" you asked after a moment of silence that drew on for far too long, leaning a little closer. "like... the timing of the posts? or who they're targeting?"

jake's lips quirked faintly, his smile teasing. jake sim was warming up to jang nabi, though she was the epitomy of what he hated. "you're smarter than you look, y/n.”

you scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at him. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?" to say you were pissed was a mere understatement. this boy, you barely knew, and had never spoken to, talking on your intellect? ridiculous.

jake shrugged, his voice scarily monotone as he scrolled through the blog emptily, bored. "thought you'd act like some dumb- ow!" he hisses, as he looks at you sharply. your glare pointed at him akin to that of a cat, you wield your bag as a weapon, holding it threateningly in the air.

"apologise." you grumble lowly, and jake can't help but burst into laughter at the sight. though, he’s not really laughing with you or anything. he’s laughing at you. reason being whether he finds you funny or completely and utterly stupid is beyond you.

"fine, im sorry," he begins, his laughter dying into sincere chuckles. "i got you wrong, y/n l/n."

"thank you," you begin earnestly. "apology accepted, jake sim."

as if noticing he’d been too nice to you, he seems a little more closed off now, his shoulders tightening as he closed the blog tab. "come meet me here tomorrow. lunch time is finishing soon, and i have places to be.”

you pick your bag up and stare at him, eyelashes fluttering as you looked into his eyes. it’s a shame. as embarrassing as the thought is, you were starting to enjoy jake sim’s company far too much for a boy you’d only ever acknowledged today. he raised an eyebrow, patting his face unconsciously. "what?"

"i think jaeyun is a nicer name, and i think it suits you more." you begin, hand on the doorknob. "just because other people don't agree doesn't mean you have to change yourself. your name is your identity."

jaeyun sighs, brushing you off dismissively. and yet, a small tendon of his heart tugs at the thought that you, y/n l/n, may be an anomaly in a system that so desperately needs change.

iii. the truth-teller

the truth teller had a long day today. they’re not sure how they feel anymore. they had one thing on their mind when starting this all — revenge. the truth teller’s heart is black with no pity nor empathy. the truth teller has seen far too much; and they want the rest of the world to see it, too. the truth teller has its sources. sometimes, people submit things into the website they put so much pride and effort into making. but most of the time, it’s all the truth tellers doing.

today's story is already planned out, every word carefully crafted for maximum impact. all guilt leaves the truth-tellers rigid body, for they are excited. as sinister as it sounds, the truth teller can only imagine the cries of his next victim:

decelis academy’s star basketball captain, baek sunwoo. the truth-teller doesn't like baek sunwoo.

they don't care for his cocky, above-it-all attitude or the way he carries himself like the world owes him something. his smug grin, his effortless charm—it's all a façade. they know baek sunwoo and his secrets like the back of his hand. dark and reputation ruining. just as he deserves. the truth-teller knows people like him. serial heartbreakers. egotistical princes who treat everyone else like pawns in their little games. the truth-teller has dealt with people like him, and the truth-teller refuses to let people like him get away with it.

the truth-teller finishes typing the last few lines of the post, their lips curling into a faint smile as they reread it. they know the impact this will have. baek sunwoo, golden boy of decelis, is about to have his shiny image tarnished in the eyes of the entire school.

click.

leaning back in their chair, the truth-teller lets a small, satisfied sigh escape their lips. they know what's coming—the gasps, the whispers, the chaos that will ripple through the school.

but the feeling is fleeting. already, their mind is drifting to the next target.

their gloomy eyes sweep around the dark room, as if searching for inspiration among the shadows. the truth-teller has a few ideas—names that linger like ghosts at the edge of their thoughts—but nothing solid. not yet. they tap a pen against the desk, the sound sharp in the stillness. this time, the subject isn't someone they necessarily dislike. nor is it personal, not yet.

they don't need to rush. they have time. but still, a name lingers at the edge of their mind. it's someone untouchable. someone whose reputation glows like a beacon in the darkness of decelis academy. someone who never fails to put on a smile, whose kindness is practically legend.

the truth-teller doesn't know much about them yet.

but they know enough.

because no one is truly perfect.

and if the truth-teller has learned anything, it's that the people who shine the brightest always cast the longest shadows. a faint smirk tugs at their lips as their fingers hover over the keyboard. it's just an idea for now. but when the time comes, they'll be ready.

after all, secrets are meant to be uncovered.

and the truth-teller always uncovers the truth.

iv. secondary guilt

YOU FELT horrible. in fact, more then horrible. guilty. for something out of your control entirely. the decelis gossip blog hit back. it wasn’t backing down any time soon, not at all. perhaps it was just getting started.

there was no sight of baek sunwoo in homeroom today, and that made your heart sink even more. it wasn’t new that he was an absolute asshole, but his secrets were out for the world to see, and they weren’t pretty.

the blog started on a less serious notes detailing how he’d cheated in most of his midterms. it was easy to brush that off — it wasn’t anything new, was it? everyone cheated. you guess the only reason why some people do care is because of the competition. the unfairness of it all would probably get to others, but apart from that, you weren’t necessarily alarmed.

then it got worse. it detailed how his fathers’ clothing company were being investigated for stock manipulation, a scandal no one clearly knew of, not yet. to an outsider it may not seem much, but in a school like decelis where the rich ruled, it was obvious this would be the talk of the town for at least a few months. almost everyone’s parents here own some form of company — of course there’s competition, and of course it’ll never work out well.

and unfortunately, it didn’t end there. you could almost physically picture the harsh, garish pink text, that so evilly slandered sunwoos name.

you thought that was it?

not for the baek family. clearly, not for mrs baek, either-

might want to ask mr han about that one,

seeing as they’ve been spending quite some time together.

i doubt it’s related with geography.

you wince at the memory, closing your eyes momentarily to almost forget the blog. all of it. for your mind to just stay silent, even if just for a minute. you filtered out the ear wrenching sounds of your friends’ high pitched laughter, their voices filled to the brim with disgusting mirth – as if sunwoo’s now exposed world was any different from theirs – no, any different from yours. of course your friends knew relatively well about your struggles, but they could never know the extent. they’d never understand. whilst they’re worrying of their new chanel bags and dior purses, you’re worrying whether you’re coming home to hell on earth.

you sighed in relief as you remembered your daily lunch missions with jake, the distant boy you’d grown interested in. it’d been only a day since you’d last talked, but his quiet, almost calculating demeanor did more than interest you. no, in one way, you could say you were infatuated with the enigma that is jake sim. you wanted to know more, and it wasn’t just about the blog.

you politely excused yourself from your friends with a drawn on smile as you advanced passed them towards the computing room, your mind buzzing with questions. being the genius he is, did he figure it all out? is whatever evil person behind it all getting a piece of their own medicine? you couldn’t help but smile at the very thought of justice being served in its own, weird way, and your secrets being safe. after all, that was what mattered most, right?

sunwoo isn’t in school today. of course he isn’t. why would he be in school? his whole family life has just been exposed for the world to see. if you were in that predicament, you’d do the exact same. weirdly enough, although you’d done it all before now, as you stood by the door of the computing room, your hand fluttering at the doorknob. nerves filled you up head to toe, but unlike yesterday, it wasn’t paralysing – so you brushed down your uniform with a clean brush, and stormed ahead.

to your surprise, jake seemed prepared. rather than dismisively staring at his computer as if it was the only thing to him that mattered in the world, he was already peering at the door expectantly. his lips curled into a reluctant, puppy-like grin, but as quickly as it grew, it fell, as he cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders in efforts to come across as collected as possible. you greeted him lowly, placing your bag beside your chair as you took your seat beside him. his headphones rested around his neck, his hands rested on the pads of his laptop. it was open on a page filled with lines of code that you didn’t even pretend to understand.

“you’re late,” he said without looking up, though the corners of his lips twitched in faint amusement, coupled with a hint of intrigue.

“and you’re impatient,” you shot back, though you couldn’t hide the way your eyes lightened up instantaneously. the crease in his eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn’t respond, instead tapping a few keys before spinning the laptop to face her. the blog’s homepage was pulled up, its latest post glaring back at you.

“have you read this?” he asked, his tone clearly interested as he pushed it towards you. you nodded, your eyebrows drawn into an empathetic frown. “poor sunwoo.” you whispered to yourself, but he heard it. he tilted his head in an adorably inquisitive way, a silent beckon for you to explain. you sigh, fidgeting with your manicured nails. “it’s just- this isn’t gossip—it’s bullying. it’s like whoever’s running this gets off on tearing people down. first ellie, now sunwoo—what’s next? i know they’re not the nicest people ever, but i wouldn’t wish this on anyone.” your lips draw into an unintentional pout, your frustration evident. but jake stifles laughter, his eyes darting to the new mess you’ve left your hair in from the intensity from your little rant.

nonetheless, he hummed in agreement turning back towards his oh-so adored laptop.

“i’m just saying, this is going too far.” you add on, with a shrug. he looks back at you and studies you for a moment longer, then leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “and what do you plan to do about it?” his tone is challenging, playful, as a subtle smirk grows on his thick lips.

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. “well, that’s why i’m here. you’re the tech genius. i thought we could figure it out together.”

“together,” he repeated, his lips curving into a shameless smirk, by now. “interesting.”

“what’s so interesting about that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes with a scoff.

“just didn’t peg you as the teamwork type.” he grinned, as his eyes moved to look into yours.

you mouth fell open in mock offense, as you hit his shoulder roughly, your hair becoming even more of a mess. “excuse me? i’m a great teammate.”

he chuckled, a low, almost genuine sound that caught her off guard. “sure you are.” and yet, nothing could’ve caught you more off guard as his large hands tucked your hair behind your ears. he’d gone quiet, the only thing you could hear was his breathing – he was concentrated, as his eyes narrowed at the sight of you, all flustered and messy. you cleared your throat, pointing at the computer unnervingly, reminding him of the blog. his eyes almost darkened as he turned towards his computer, his face tightening with tension.

as you delved into the blog, youcouldn’t help but notice how… different jake seemed compared to yesterday. he wasn’t nearly as cold and aloof anymore—there was something almost warm in his demeanor, a faint softness that hadn’t been there before. and it was stupidly flattering. you had no care for coding. and yet, you had a newfound care for jake’s world. you leaned forward and watched unfalteringly. when you stumbled over reading a particularly technical term on his screen, he didn’t scoff or roll his eyes like he half-expected. instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and patient as he explained.

“see? this line here,” he said, pointing to the screen. “it’s a signature in the code. not unique enough to trace, but it’s something.”

their shoulders brushed, and you felt a strange flutter in your chest. you ignored it, focusing on his words instead. “so, whoever wrote this—”

“—knows what they’re doing,” he finished, his gaze flicking to you. your eyes met, and for a moment, the air between you both felt charged, electric. as if you were stuck in a trance, one that has you wanting nothing but to stare into his round eyes till you physically couldn’t anymore.

“you’re staring,” he whispered, his lips parting softly.

your cheeks flushed. “no, i’m not.”

“you kind of are,” he said, biting his lower lip to stifle a grin, but he did it in a way that turned your stomach inside out. in a bad or good way, you’re yet to know.

“okay, back to the blog,” you interrupted quickly, moving to face his laptop yourself. but the moment lingered, hanging in the air like an unspoken question.

as the both of you continued, you found yourself rambling, a sign that you felt comfortable with jake listening in. about the blog, about the line between gossip and cruelty, about how some posts were crossing it. “it’s just… it feels like whoever’s running this doesn’t care who they hurt. like they’re just using people’s lives for clicks or attention or whatever.”

jake didn’t respond immediately. when he did, his voice was low, almost thoughtful. “maybe they think the people they’re exposing deserve it..?”

you frowned, turning to look at him. “deserve it? no one deserves to have their personal life plastered all over the internet, jake.”

“jaeyun,” he corrects, as he looks at his scruffy school shoes with pinkened cheeks. you grinned at that, your hand patting his back encouragingly as you pick your bag up. if only lunchtime was longer then it had been, if only the world was as kind to you as jake had been. “thanks for helping,” you said as you gathered your belongings, the glow on your face soft in the low lighting of the computing room.

“don’t mention it,” he replied, his tone lighter than usual. “see ya.” he spoke with such casual tone, a sign that seeing you was now an everyday thing. it made you a little giddy. no one’s cared that much about you before — it’s almost too good to be true.

v. the idiot with a painted face

DECELIS ACADEMY’s newest tactic included.. silence.

it had been days since the last update from the blog. not a single post, not even a whisper about who was next on the list. at first, you were relieved. maybe whoever had been behind it all had finally gotten bored, or maybe the backlash from the last post had made them reconsider. but the longer the silence dragged on, the more uneasy you began to feel.

you couldn’t quite explain it, but it was like you were waiting for the next blog to drop. the calm before the storm. life life had been far too calm, thus something bad was bound to happen.

so when you made your way to the computing lab at lunch, you couldn’t shake the unease. jake hadn’t messaged you in a while, either. after your last conversation, you had figured you’d see him again, but he’d been distant. maybe it was just the nature of his personality, but there was a coldness that had started to settle back into him. maybe he was just distancing himself since he probably thought the blog was over, just as you did. but seeing his message earlier that day to meet him in the computing room showed you otherwise. you had to admit, you were kind of looking forward to seeing him. he’d been… nicer than you expected. it was strange, but comforting in a way. and you wanted to know more about what he was thinking.

you walked into the computing lab, and there he was, sitting at his usual spot, eyes glued to the screen. he didn’t look up when you entered, and for a second, you almost considered turning back. but then, he noticed you, and his eyes flicked up in your direction.

“hey,” he said casually, his tone softer than usual. there was none of the usual sarcasm, just a quiet, almost reassuring calm, coupled with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“hey,” you replied, taking a few steps closer. you hesitated, unsure of how to start. the air between you had shifted since the last time you’d spoken. it felt lighter somehow, more comfortable. but you still weren’t quite sure why.

“you good?” he asked, studying you with that sharp look of his, like he was trying to read you. you nodded quickly, even though you weren’t really sure if you were. you hadn’t told anyone about what had happened last night, about the yelling, the anger, the frustration. the way your dad had slammed doors and ranted about your future as if you were just a pawn in some game. you didn’t want to burden jake with that. hiding your emotions was something you specialised in already. you had no difficulty keeping it that way.

but then he leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes still focused on you. “you sure? you don’t look like you’re okay.”

it was the gentleness in his voice that made you pause. it wasn’t how he usually spoke. there was something different in his tone, something… kind.

and for some reason, you found yourself unable to lie. maybe it was the warmth he was showing, or maybe it was just the way he was looking at you, but the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“i—” you stopped yourself. your heart raced. why was it so easy to talk to him now? “i just… my dad. he’s been really angry lately. it’s like everything i do is never good enough for him. he keeps telling me i’m disappointing him.” you blurt, and your eyes widen at your mistake.

jake’s gaze softened as you spoke, and for a moment, you could have sworn there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something like understanding, maybe even sympathy. "fuck, sorry, forget-"

“i get that,” he interrupts you quietly, leaning a little closer, as if he were giving you the proximity to speak more.

you felt a knot in your stomach loosen as he waited, his presence somehow comforting. no one ever listens to you. and now when someone is, who are you to dismiss the opportunity? you hadn’t meant to share so much, but the words came out anyway.

“it’s just… i don’t know. i’m always walking on eggshells around him. i never know what’ll set him off. i try to be perfect for him, but it’s never enough.” you paused, feeling your chest tighten. “i don’t even know what he wants anymore. i feel like i can’t do anything right.”

his eyes never left you as you spoke. it was like he was actually listening—like he cared.

“you don’t deserve that,” he said, his voice so calm, so assured. it was like his words were an anchor in the storm you felt like you were drowning in. you blinked at him, a little taken aback by how he seemed to understand, even though you hadn’t said half of what was really going on. “i just…” you swallowed, trying to hold it together. “i feel like no matter what i do, it won’t be enough. like i’ll never be able to make him proud. it gets worse when he gets.. aggressive.”

“you don’t have to try to be perfect for him. not for anyone.” jake let out a slow breath, the tension in his jaw slightly visible, but there was still a softness to his eyes. “...aggressive? y/n, what’s going on?”

you stared at him, his words sinking in deeper than you expected. for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “he’s quite.. uh.. a physical person.” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat. “that’s how.. he, uh, scolds me. puts me in my place.”

jake’s eyes darken in both fury and something unreadable, his hand brushing over yours momentarily as he lets out a shaky breath. “you don’t deserve that,” he begins, his eyes warm. “no one does.”

your hands flutter at the touch and your heart at the fact that he wasn’t judging you. he was listening. the relief was overwhelming, like he had given you permission to just breathe. “thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

jake gave you a small nod, his usual aloofness still lingering in his posture, but there was something warmer in his presence now. a crack in the armor, just enough for you to see a different side of him. for some reason, you felt lighter.

“i mean it,” he said, as if trying to reinforce what he had just said. “you don’t have to carry all that by yourself.” you felt the weight of his words, but you also felt a little foolish for ever thinking you could carry everything alone. it was strange—this connection that was starting to form between you and him.

“so,” he said, changing the subject abruptly, though his voice was still surprisingly gentle, “about that blog… we still need to figure out who’s behind it. you wanna help me out with that?” you blinked, caught off guard by the shift. but then, the words sank in. he still wanted to help you take it down. as if he understood your worries, even though you hadn’t even told him the whole lot yet.

“yeah,” you said, feeling a surge of determination in your chest. “let’s do it.”

jake’s lips curled into the slightest smile, like he was pleased with your response. “good. we’ll make sure they can’t do this anymore.” his kindness, though strange and unexpected, made you feel like maybe you weren’t so alone after all. it wasn’t perfect, but with jake on your side, you almost felt like you had a chance.

vi. the secret-exposer

an evil, evil thought brews in the depths of the secret-exposer’s mind.

it had started small—just a flicker, an idea at the edge of their thoughts. nothing concrete at first, just a passing thought, one that they dismiss almost immediately. but it lingered, like a shadow creeping in the corner of their mind, growing darker and more insistent with each passing moment, and here they sit now, in front of the blue-light screen of their laptop.

they’ve always prided themselves on revealing the truth. for, they’ve exposed the secrets of the elite, pulling back the curtain to show the world what they’ve been hiding. they’ve taken down the arrogant, the untouchable, the privileged. their blog—an anonymous, ruthless force—has done what the rest of society hasn’t dared to: tear down the lies, the facades, the walls built from wealth and power.

but this is different.

the idea takes root and grows, twisting in their gut like the thorns of a rose. beautifully harsh. it’s a line they’ve never crossed before, a place they’ve never dared to go. everything they’ve done up until now has been motivated by the truth, by a sense of righteous justice. they��ve revealed the hypocrisy, the cruelty of those in power. but this?

this isn’t just about revealing a truth.

it’s about destroying something.

someone.

their fingers hover above the keyboard, the cursor blinking in time with their heartbeat. their mind races, torn between the thrill of exposing something even darker than before and the strange, growing unease in the pit of their stomach. they’ve always been the one in control, the one who calls the shots. they’ve always made sure that what they exposed was deserved.

but now?

they look at the name on the screen—the name that’s been on their mind for days now—and the guilt comes crashing in. it's weird. the secret exposer feels an odd connection to this person. but alas, the secret exposer doesn't do friendship. doesn't do connection.

this isn’t just a matter of exposing a mistake, a flaw, or an unfair advantage. no. this time, it’s personal. this time, they’re going after someone’s entire life.

a life they could ruin.

a life they could break.

they feel it—this heavy weight pressing down on their chest. the guilt. the doubt.

but then their mind flashes back to all the rich kids they’ve exposed, all the hurt they’ve caused, the power they’ve taken away from the privileged. they’ve done it all before—why should this one be any different?

they remind themselves of all the things the elite have done, the lives they’ve destroyed with their carelessness, their arrogance, their privilege. the rich live in a bubble, insulated from the consequences of their actions, unaware of the damage they cause. they’ve earned this.

with that thought, the guilt starts to melt away. it’s replaced by something colder, something sharper, something that makes their hands shake with adrenaline. this isn’t about right or wrong anymore. this is about revenge. about making the rich feel what it’s like to be powerless.

they type the first sentence, then the second. the words flow now, faster, sharper, more decisive. they know the power of these words. they know the damage they’ll cause. each keystroke feels like a small victory, a release of all the frustration, the anger, the years of watching the rich get away with everything.

and with each line, they can feel the walls closing in on their target. the stakes are higher now—this isn’t just gossip. this is a life they’re toying with, someone they’re about to tear apart with nothing more than the power of truth.

they take a deep breath, letting the weight of what they’re about to do settle over them. there’s no going back now. once they hit send, there’s no stopping the fallout.

they take one last glance at the screen, the words staring back at them, final, unrelenting. a new story. a new secret. one that will burn everything to the ground.

and with a sense of chilling nonchalance, the secret exposer presses the button.

click.

the silence afterward is deafening. they stare at the screen, watching as the post uploads. their heart races, but not from fear—no, the adrenaline is all from power.

the guilt? gone.

it’s just another story, just another truth revealed. the elite will never see it coming.

and for the secret-exposer, the game has only just begun.

vii. to fall

YOU WAKE UP to the sound of your alarm, and for one fleeting moment, everything feels normal. your blanket is heavy against your chest, the early light filtering through your curtains. your phone is ajar to your bed, but unlike normal mornings, you don’t check it. instead, you take the time to spend your morning slowly, meaningly. you listen to the whistle of the kettle for your hot water bottle and the padding of rain against the tiled patio of your garden.

you stand in front of the mirror, the soft yellow glow of your vanity lights casting a warm hue over your skin. your makeup is flawless—subtle but enough to enhance your features. mascara brushes your lashes, blush adds life to your cheeks, and your lips shimmer faintly with gloss. your hair is styled perfectly, every strand falling into place like it’s been painted there by an artist’s hand.

today, you look the part. polished, effortless, untouchable. the kind of image that feels like armor. but as you finally reach for your phone to check the time, your perfect world cracks. there it is, sitting at the top of your notifications like a grenade waiting to go off: an email.

the sender’s name doesn’t even matter. you know what it is before you open it. your stomach drops, your chest tightening as your thumb hovers over the subject line.

"new post: the truth comes out."

your throat feels dry as you tap on it, the screen flickering for a moment before the page loads. and there it is. the blog updated.

and your name is right there, staring back at you in bold letters.

"it’s funny, isn’t it? the people who act like they have it all together are the ones falling apart the most..."

the words blur as your breathing picks up. you scroll, your heart pounding in your ears, each sentence hitting like a physical blow.

"she walks around decelis academy like she owns the place, flashing those perfect smiles, tossing that perfect hair. but what’s lurking behind all that? rumor has it, her home life isn’t quite the picture-perfect mansion dream she wants you to think it is."

"not all bruises are the kind you can see. thank her dad."

you drop your phone. it lands face down on the vanity with a dull clatter, but you don’t move to pick it up.

instead, you stare at your reflection. the perfect hair, the perfect makeup, the perfect image you spent so much time putting together—it feels like a cruel joke now. like a mask that’s been ripped away, leaving you raw and exposed.

how could they know?

you feel your chest tighten, tears welling up in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to stop them from falling, but it’s useless. they spill over, streaking down your cheeks and ruining the makeup you worked so hard to apply. your stomach twists, bile rising in your throat as you scroll down. it feels like your lungs have stopped working, like your body is too small to hold the flood of emotions crashing over you. fear. anger. humiliation.

your hands tremble as you reach for your phone, picking it up again to reread the words, as if somehow they’ll change. but they don’t.

"nobody’s that perfect. if anything, perfection screams ‘hiding something,’ and your girl’s definitely hiding more bruises than you’d suspect."

you let out a shaky breath, your mind racing. who wrote this? how do they know? your secrets—secrets you’ve buried so deeply—how could they have surfaced here, like this, for everyone to see?

and worse, what’s going to happen now? you don’t have answers, only the suffocating weight of panic pressing down on your chest. you look back at your reflection, and for the first time, you don’t see yourself. you see a stranger. someone who looks strong, but feels like they’re falling apart. someone who’s been stripped of everything they thought was safe. with trembling hands, you grab your bag, your legs weak as you move toward the door. staying home isn’t an option—your dad would notice, and that would only make things worse. but as you step out, the pit in your stomach grows deeper.

you know that once you walk into that school, everyone will have seen it. everyone will know. and the girl staring back at you in the mirror? she’s not the one they’re going to see.

the moment you step onto campus, it hits you again. the looks. they’re everywhere. pity in some, judgment in others. whispers behind cupped hands as you walk down the hallway. you can feel it, the weight of their stares, pressing down on you, making it harder and harder to breathe. you don’t stop. you keep walking, your head down, your fists clenched tight at your sides until you spot him.

jake.

he’s in the computing room, exactly where you knew he’d be. sitting at his usual desk, typing away, his headphones pushed back around his neck. for a second, seeing him makes you feel lighter.

you rush inside, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them. “jake, did you see it? the blog?”

he looks up, his expression unreadable. “yeah,” he says softly. his tone brushes it off like it’s nothing, but the furrow of his brows convey concern, care. like it isn’t your life that’s been plastered online for everyone to pick apart.

your voice cracks as you rant, pacing back and forth. “this is—it’s bullying. this isn’t just gossip, jake, this is—this is dangerous. they’re talking about my family, my dad, they’re—they’re—what if he finds out? he’s gonna–” you can’t even finish the sentence. the words stick in your throat like broken glass.

jake watches you, his lips pressed into a thin line, but there’s something in his eyes you don’t recognize. “look,” he says finally, his voice softer now, “it’s going to be okay. we’ll figure it out, okay? we’ll find out who’s behind this.”

his kindness catches you off guard, and for a moment, it makes you feel a little steadier. you sink into the chair next to him, burying your face in your hands as the tears threaten to spill over again. “i just don’t get it,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “who would do this? how do they know so much?”

jake doesn’t answer right away. when he does, his tone is careful, almost hesitant. “maybe... maybe someone close to you? someone who’s been paying attention?”

you freeze.

the words hang in the air between you, heavy and suffocating.

and then it clicks.

your mind races, piecing together everything—the way he’d been so nice, so interested in every little detail about your life. the way he’d listened, pushing you to talk, to share things you’d never told anyone else. your breath catches, your stomach twisting in a sickening knot as you look at him sharply.

“you,” you begin, your voice airy as you latch onto the nearest chair for stability, the shock and betrayal knocking you off your feet. “you were behind it the whole time.” the weight of it all crashes down on you, and you feel like you're falling—plummeting, really—into something darker than you could’ve ever imagined. it's like standing at the edge of a cliff, your legs too weak to take a step back. your chest tightens as the realization sinks in deeper and deeper, like the ground beneath you is crumbling away.

the blog, his calm demeanor, his interest in you—it all makes sense now. he had been the one pulling the strings all along, pushing you closer to the edge without you even noticing. a small, cold smirk grows on his lips, as he shrugs with chilling nonchalance, turning back to his laptop. “some stories are made to be shared.”

you feel sick. like you’ve been caught in the current of a storm, unable to break free.

but then something soft stirs in you, a strange fluttering deep inside your chest. it's almost like a memory—a feeling that somehow connects to the storm. the feeling of butterflies.

you'd always hated that feeling, the way your stomach twisted when you were excited or nervous, how your heart seemed to race like wings in your chest. you’d dismissed it as a silly metaphor, a cliché you never wanted to believe in. but now, you can’t help but think of them—those butterflies—as you kneel on the cold floor, choking on your disbelief.

how had it happened?

you’d trusted him. jake. of all people. you should've known something was wrong, the way he’d been so... interested in you, in everything you said, in every vulnerable detail you shared. no one had done that before. it was the universes' message, and you ignored it. he’d listened with too much care, as though he was taking mental notes, storing everything away. and then, just like that, the tears come.

you can't hold them back anymore. the sting in your eyes burns, but it doesn’t matter. the pieces are falling into place, and there’s no way to stop it. his eyes, his words—they had all been calculated. cold. sharp.

your knees hit the ground as your sobs thumped with pure humiliation and fear, though the pain in your chest was far more drastic then the pain in your knees. it feels like hitting the ground with a force that could shatter bones. “why! do you find it funny? is it me? did i do something?” you wail, your face the epitome of pure heartbreak and hurt. “im sorry!” you sob, your chest shaking with agony. as the sobs wrack your body, you see the smirk fade from jake’s face, but it doesn't make the fall any less painful. the guilt comes crashing in, his hands shaking as he moves to help you up – but like a coward, he walks off.

falling... that’s what this all was. a slow, terrifying descent into something you didn’t understand, a fate you hadn’t seen coming. and in the pit of your stomach, it’s still the same sensation: the flutter of wings—the same butterflies, now broken and caged in your chest.

and as you kneel there, helpless, the world spins around you. because just as you’d felt like you were finally flying,

you’ve fallen.

reblogs n notes r supa appreciated :3 asw as comments, i love talking to ygs!

#fic recs ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ #kpopstansforgaza #enhypen au #jake fanfic #THE ENDINGGG???#hurt no comfort #i need part 2 now

77 notes · View notes