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heethera · 3 days ago

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˖*°࿐ •*⁀➷ 𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

➜ summary: jay’s always had everything. you were just the girl who followed him around until you became the one thing he couldn’t let go.

pairing: pjs x f!reader, wc: 16k words , genre: best friends to lovers, rich!jay, fluff, a wee lil angst w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing

When you were eight, your pet fish died. Jay, being the perfect friend, snuck out of his house, hoodie zipped up to his nose, and stood outside your door with a juice box and a Pokémon sticker. He didn’t say anything, just left them there with a note that read: “U ken yoos the stikr four yur dairi.”

He wasn’t the best speller, but he was the best friend you could ever ask for.

When you were thirteen, you stayed up until 3 a.m. on the phone, ranting about how some snotty new transfer from Australia, Sim Jaeyun said your feet looked “weirdly shaped.” Jay spent an hour trying to convince you that Jaeyun had a thumb that looked like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and couldn’t tell a mermaid from a fish so he didn’t deserve to have opinions.

When you turned seventeen, Jay gave you his favourite hoodie before flying to Seattle for a month to visit his relatives. You wore it religiously while he was gone, just to feel a little closer to him.

And till now somehow, Jay still orbited your everyday life.

“You’re late,” he said without looking up, eyes fixed on some game playing on the TV.

“I wasn’t even supposed to come today.”

“But you did,” he replied, finally turning to glance at you. His grin was lazy, a little smug. “Couldn’t stay away from The Jonginator 3000.”

“Gross,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Please never call yourself ever that again.”

You crossed the room and dropped onto the other end of the couch, knees curling up beside you as your shoulder brushed his. Jay made space for you without saying anything.

“Here,” you muttered, digging through your tote bag and tossing a bag of chips his way.

He caught it one-handed. “Oh, how you spoil me.”

“Well, that’s because you’re unbearable when you’re hungry.”

“And equally as charming when I’m full,” he added with a wink.

You bit back a smile, tilting your head with mock thoughtfulness. “Hm… I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate,” you said.

You liked to believe your friendship with Jay could weather even the strongest storms but lately, you weren’t so sure.

It wasn’t that anything had gone terribly wrong.

It was quieter than that. Slightly more subtle? Things had just… started to change. Not in ways you could clearly name, but in the little things.

You and Jay were friends. Best of friends, even.

Your mum had worked for his family for almost a decade, taking care of his grandmother, the same woman you’d come to call Grandma, too. Jay never minded. His grandmother never corrected you. If anything, she loved it. Jay was an only child, and without a granddaughter of her own, she’d folded you into her life without hesitation.

His family had always been kind. They treated your mum with respect, and you never felt looked down on.

But lately, something had started to shift. Nothing harsh or particularly cruel. Just… small things, little things you were starting to piece together.

Maybe it was the way people talked about the future now about colleges, cities, careers. Plans that didn’t involve waking up in your childhood bedroom. Plans that didn’t include walking into Jay’s room, knocking once before flopping onto his bed to rant about terrible Netflix documentaries you’d force him to watch.

But most of all, they were plans that didn’t include both of you.

Maybe it was the realisation that Jay was heading somewhere you couldn’t afford to follow.

And maybe Jay was starting to realise that too.

You loved him. Almost too much. You didn’t like putting a label on it. Romantic, platonic, it didn’t matter. All you knew was that he made you laugh when you wanted to cry, and he made you smile when you were knee-deep in anger.

And losing that? Losing him? Somehow, that scared you more than anything.

You’d left for the bathroom a little over five minutes ago, but it took nearly three just to get back to Jay’s room.

You were about to push open the door, fully prepared to return and absolutely obliterate him in the game you’d been playing, when you heard a voice.

“Baby,” his mum said gently.

You froze. Your hand hovered just above the doorknob. Something about her tone stopped you. It sounded serious… a little too serious for you to barge in like nothing.

So you didn’t.

You stayed where you were, just outside his door, waiting for the right moment to step in.

“Mom, I’m not going,” Jay said. You could hear the sound of him ruffling his hair, followed by a long sigh.

His mum exhaled softly. “Jong, it’s a tradition. The family went there. I went there. You—”

“I’m not going,” he repeated, firmer this time.

There was a pause.

“If this is about…” she began before letting out a deep breath. “Look, I love her. You know I do. I treat her like a daughter too, but baby, this is a big deal. You have one foot in the door and you’re throwing it all away?”

“Mom—”

“No, listen to me.” Her voice cracked slightly. “You can always come back to her, but this… this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

A long stretch of silence followed, thick and heavy, before she spoke again, softer now but still thick with tension.

“I’m not saying she isn’t good for you. She is. She’s smart, she’s pretty. She’s… kind. But do you really think the two of you have anything in common besides growing up together?”

Oh. Oh. Oh…

So this was how they saw you: not bad, not unworthy…just not enough. Not for him.

“Baby,” she said, “the two of you are on different paths and…well, Jong, you were meant for greater things. Big things.”

Through the small crack in the doorframe, you caught a glimpse of Jay, sitting on the edge of his bed, brows furrowed, elbows resting on his knees. He wasn’t answering. He looked like he was thinking about it.

That hurt more than anything.

You backed away quietly, each step careful, like even your breath might give away that you had been listening. When you reached the top of the stairs, you glanced down at your feet, your socks, mismatched and worn. They had never felt like such a statement before. And now, in this house, with its icy cold Italian marble floors, they felt impossibly…prominent.

You were rushing toward the door when something made you pause. The second living room, the one you’d always walked past, never into. You turned, just a little, just enough to see it.

The walls were lined with frames. Studio portraits of Jay and his parents, always dressed to the nines, always looking like they belonged on the cover of some high-society magazine. There were formal family shots with his extended relatives, his cousins in their prep school uniforms, their parents with Rolexes and pearl earrings, champagne glasses in hand at some gala that probably changed the world without you knowing.

Then your eyes landed on the final frame tucked in the corner.

Jay, standing beside the minister at a government scholarship ceremony. A navy suit that fit him too well. His parents beaming on either side of him. The plaque in his hand gleaming. You remembered that day vaguely, he had texted you something self-deprecating about tripping on stage. You had laughed then.

You weren’t laughing now.

Because all of it somehow was starting to feel like a mockery of just how different your worlds really were. There was a bitter sting in your chest, and you weren’t sure if it was jealousy over a life you’d never live, or the ache of knowing someone you liked so much came from a place you could never quite reach.

While Jay had birthday dinners at restaurants you didn’t even know existed, yours were made of takeout leftovers and cakes baked in a neighbor’s oven. Jay had a whole wall of proof that he belonged. And all the while, you didn’t even have matching socks.

—

Jay: Did you just leave? Without saying goodbye? 🙁

You didn’t reply.

You were too deep in your own spiral…spinning, crashing, drowning in thoughts you didn’t ask to think. His mom had been right. About everything.

She hadn’t been cruel. She hadn’t even sounded angry. Just… honest. Like a mother trying to protect her son from making a mistake. And maybe you were the mistake. You knew she liked you. You knew the whole family did. But that didn’t change the fact that you’d always been her daughter, the caregiver’s daughter. Not one of them. Not really.

And for the first time in your life, you felt it, not just the distance, but the pity. Ten years of your mom’s hard work, all the quiet pride she carried, all the long nights and it suddenly felt like none of it mattered. You were just the tagalong. A nice girl with nowhere better to be.

You were never someone in that house. You were just... there.

Your phone lit up again.

Jay: I’m coming over.

Your eyes flew open. “Damn it–” you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie.

You: Don’t.

Jay: Huh?

You: I’m fine.

Jay: But you left so soon?

You: I had to take a shit so I left.

There was a pause.

Jay: I have a bathroom, you idiot.

You: It’s too fancy. I like mine better.

Jay: LOL well at least say goodbye next time. I went around the house like an idiot looking for you for 10 whole minutes.

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering. You wanted to say more.

But you didn’t want him to pity you too.

—

Jungwon stood beside you, rhythmically tapping two fingers against your back, drumming out a song only he could hear. You hunched forward at the front desk, shoulders tense, chin propped against your palm as you glared at the dusty computer monitor displaying your completely empty Tuesday schedule.

You part timed at Goober Galaxy, an indoor playground targeted for kids ages 3 and up. Today was quiet. It was the perfect shift for a breakdown. Unfortunately, Jungwon hadn’t gotten the memo.

You swatted his hand away without even turning around. “Cut it out.”

He laughed, and leaned over the counter so that his chin now rested on his folded arms beside yours. “I’m bored,” he declared, eyes scanning your blank expression.

“Then go find something to do.”

“I like bothering you,” he said with a smile.

You turned to glare at him, grabbing the nearest pencil and holding it up like a weapon. “I’ll stab you with this.”

“Ooh, how scary,” he said, grinning wider.

“Shut up.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out as sharp as it did. Jungwon blinked, his smile faltering just a little but only for a second. You dropped the pencil back onto the desk and folded your arms, slumping deeper into your chair. You’d been like this all day: distracted, fogged over, stuck in your own head with thoughts of you and Jay.

It’d been two days since you left Jay’s house without saying goodbye. Two days since you’d heard his mother’s voice echoing in the hallway, reminding him that people like you didn’t belong in their world.

He’d been texting you ever since. But every time your phone lit up with his name, your heart clenched so hard it made you nauseous. You couldn’t answer. Not when you didn’t know how to exist next to him without feeling small.

You didn’t realize Jungwon had moved until he dropped onto the beanbag beside your stool with a dramatic huff, his legs splayed out in front of him, head tilted toward you.

“Okay,” he said, “seriously. Who is it?”

You didn’t answer.

“Come on,” he continued, tapping his foot against your shoe. “Tell the master of Women who has you acting up like this.”

“I highly doubt you even know what a woman is.”

You let out a breath through your nose and glanced at him. Jungwon’s dark hair tousled from where he’d been running his hand through it, polo shirt wrinkled, name tag barely hanging on. He was annoying and loud. But he was also one of the only people who understood what it meant to want more than you were allowed to have. You both had jobs instead of highly paid tutors, worn-out sneakers instead of new ones, savings goals that felt like they’d never be reached.

He didn’t know what was wrong. Not exactly. But he knew enough to ask.

Still, your voice caught in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud: I overheard Jay’s mom say I don’t belong in his world and I think she’s right and now I can’t even look at him without wanting to cry.

So instead, you mumbled, “It’s nothing.”

Jungwon didn’t push. He just leaned back with a sigh and said, “You know I’ll keep annoying you until you tell me, right?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “I know.”

He grinned. “Cool. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

You sighed then tilted your head toward him, your voice quiet. “D’you ever think we’ll be bigger than we are right now?”

Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “I mean… I heard Mr. Kim say we stop growing after we turn 18, but I’m not too sure.” He tilted his head dramatically, thinking hard. “Though… I have been drinking more milk lately so all fingers crossed!”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant! I meant... just us. Will we ever be bigger than this? Than who we are now?”

He looked at you, his smile fading into something gentler. You didn’t usually say things like this. “Like... spiritually? Emotionally? Or like tax bracket-wise?”

You stared at him flatly.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, raising both hands in surrender. “I get it. You mean like, in the world.”

You nodded slowly, your voice tightening. “I mean…look at us….We’re just... two kids. Two random people in this giant fuckin’ world. And there are people out there who are so much bigger than us. So much more important. Doing things that matter. And we’re just here. Doing this.”

Jungwon leaned his head back against the beanbag, legs stretched out in front of him. He looked up at the ceiling for a long moment before shrugging. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “But I like where I am.”

You glanced at him, brows furrowed. “You like working for scraps?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Well... it’s a Tuesday afternoon, and I’m hanging out with the prettiest girl I know. So yeah. Not bad.”

You shoved his shoulder, trying not to smile. “Be serious, Won.”

His expression softened then, all teasing drained out of it. He shifted to face you more fully, his voice quieter. “Okay. You’re upset. And since it’s you, and you don’t get like this unless it’s something big, I’m guessing this is about Jay.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Jungwon reached out and gently poked your forehead. “Then let me say this clearly: you need to stop letting that big, overthinking brain of yours spiral.”

You exhaled shakily.

“I know Jay. Not like you do, obviously,” he added with a small grin, “but well enough. And I know, for a fact, that Jay doesn’t give a single fuck that we’re working at...” He looked around and grimaced. “Goober Fuckin’ Galaxy.”

You laughed.

“I’m serious,” he said, nudging your knee with his. “That guy looks at you like you invented…I don’t know…the freaking internet? It clearly doesn’t matter what job you have, or where you come from. You’re not small to him. Not to me. Not to Hee. Not to any of us.”

You didn’t reply, but something in your chest eased…just a little.

The bell above the entrance gave its usual pathetic worn out ding, but you didn’t look up…no one came to Goober Galaxy on a Tuesday. That was the whole point of working Tuesdays.

“Uh oh,” he muttered beside you, sitting up from his beanbag.

“What?” you asked, barely glancing over.

“Lover boy incoming.”

Your brows knit together as you turned and froze.

Jay was standing in the entrance, chest rising like he’d sprinted from the subway (which he’s probably never taken), hair tousled in that way that looked both accidental and annoyingly perfect. In one hand, he held a bouquet of white daisies wrapped in soft brown paper. In the other, a box of chocolates with a ribbon tied so tight it was starting to crumple the corner.

And then you noticed it, the faint red splotches blooming across his knuckles, creeping up his wrist. His grip didn’t falter. Jay was allergic to flowers. You’d known that since forever, since the day he sneezed through an entire spring picnic and blamed the pollen for his watery eyes.

Your heart twisted.

Suddenly, you felt awful. And soft. And maybe a little bit in love all over again.

He walked straight toward you, eyes never leaving your face, and you hated the way your breath caught.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I’m sorry.”

You blinked, completely thrown. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, pushing the flowers into your hands like they might prove his sincerity. “I don’t know what I did. But whatever it is, I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t even realize something was wrong until you stopped replying and then I thought maybe it was something I said or maybe I looked at you weird and—”

“Jay—”

“I was going to come yesterday, but I didn’t want to be pushy. And then I tried calling again this morning but I figured maybe you were busy—”

“Jay.”

He finally paused, breath short, his eyes scanning your face with desperation. And just like that, your chest ached in another way.

He didn’t know. He thought he did something wrong. And he came all the way here just to apologize for a mistake he didn’t even understand.

You looked down at the daisies, hands curling around the brown paper. The stems were still wet. Fresh, which means he got the flowers that day.

God, he was sweet. Stupidly, painfully sweet.

Before you could say anything, Jungwon cleared his throat loudly from behind the counter. “Sooooo,” he drawled. “You got her flowers and chocolates? What do I get?”

Jay turned to look at him with the flattest, most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen. Without a word, he reached into his hoodie pocket, pulled out a single crumpled bill, and tossed it onto the counter.

“A dollar,” he said.

Jungwon stared at it. “That’s it?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t give you lint from my pocket.”

“Then…I’ll just have the dollar.” Jungwon muttered, pocketing the dollar.

Jay turned back to you, lips parted like he wanted to say more but the words didn’t come.

Jungwon hadn’t moved.

He was still standing there, hovering way too close, arms crossed, eyes bouncing between you and Jay like he was watching the tension build. His eyes crossing between you and Jay’s a silly grin on his stupid face.

You shot him a look. “Can you get lost?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “It’s Tuesday. I’m bored. I wanna see how this plays out.”

“You want entertainment?”

“Desperately.”

You sighed through your nose, then shoved the box of chocolates into his chest without looking. “Here. Take this. Go sit in the ball pit and eat this.”

He stared at the box, then back at you. “These are from him, though.”

“I don’t care. Just go.”

A smug smile bloomed on his face as he clutched the box. “You know what? Say less.”

And with that, he strolled off, climbing into the nearest corner of a giant ball pit, where he immediately sprawled across the plastic balls.

You turned back to Jay, your eyes flicking upward to meet his.

He was still watching you, brows drawn just slightly. His arms were at his sides now, hands twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or give you space. He didn’t know what he’d done, but he knew something had changed. And it was killing him.

You looked at the flowers still in your hands. You looked back at him. You weren’t sure which one made your chest hurt more.

So you said it.

“I heard what your mom said that day.”

His entire expression shifted subtly. His mouth parted, but he didn’t speak.

“I didn’t mean to,” you added, softer now. “I was coming back to the room and I just… I overheard the entire conversation.”

Jay’s shoulders tensed. He looked down for a second, then up again, jaw clenched, eyes searching your face.

You swallowed. “I wasn’t avoiding you because I was mad. I just… I don’t know...I didn’t know how to act.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just blinked slowly, like the words were still settling into place.

“Look,” Jay said finally, his voice low but firm, “you don’t have to worry about it. I’m not going anywhere—”

“Jay,” you cut in, your voice sharper than you meant, “I’m not worried about that.”

You looked down, fingers tightening around the bouquet of daisies in your hands. The stems crinkled slightly in your grip.

“I’m not mad about what she said,” you said quietly. “I’m just... she’s right.”.

His mouth opened slightly, brows drawing together like he didn’t understand how those words could’ve come from you. His chest rose as if to argue, but he didn’t speak yet. He couldn’t.

You lifted your gaze slowly, and your throat burned. “She’s right, Jay. We don’t have anything in common besides growing up together.”

He shook his head immediately, stepping closer. “You’re more than what she said—”

“Jay,” you said again, this time with a bitter laugh laced into it, “who are we kidding?”

He sighed when you cut him off.

“I work in a stupid kids’ playground called Goober Galaxy. You’re in every high-end after school academy, tutoring centre, test prep institute money can buy. You’re made to get straight A’s, made to end up at some fancy university. Made to do something big. I’m not.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” he said, his voice cracking just barely at the edges. “Do you think I ever looked at you and saw anything less?”

Jay exhaled shakily and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “I’ve liked you since the day you showed up behind your mom in that stupid little yellow dress you hated. You were hiding behind her, and God—” he let out a soft laugh, almost breathless, “The moment you sat beside me, you punched me in the shoulder and said I had a dumb name. I’ve liked you since then.”

Your eyes fluttered up to glance at him, but only for a second, before dropping back to your shoes. He reached out gently, fingers brushing under your chin, and tilted your face toward his.

“I loved that version of you,” he said, eyes locked onto yours. “I love this version of you. I’ve never thought you were less than me. Not even once. It’s always been you.”

The silence that followed clung to the air, thick and trembling.

You stared at him, barely breathing, barely able to believe this was real.

“Jay–”

“UH GUYS, CAN I COME OUT NOW?” Jungwon’s voice rang out, followed by a hacking cough. “I THINK I SWALLOWED THE RIBBON.”

You almost burst into laughter. Almost.

But instead, you did the one thing you’d been aching to do for far too long.

You leaned forward over the counter and kissed him.

Jay froze for just a split second, stunned. His hand hovered uncertainly beside you, like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you. But his eyes fluttered shut, and when you pulled away, his lips chased yours like he didn’t want it to end.

His cheeks flushed immediately. He laughed softly, a little dazed. “I didn’t think today would end up like this.”

You smirked. “Do you want me to take it back?”

He shook his head quickly, still smiling. “No. I just... I wish it wasn’t in front of—”

The both of you turned.

Jungwon was now sitting fully upright in the ball pit, legs criss-crossed, waving at you. A half-eaten piece of chocolate dangled from his fingers.

“I think I’m the first person to ever witness a love confession in Goober Galaxy,” he said. “A sentence that has never, ever been said before in the history of mankind.”

Jay groaned and dropped his head onto the counter with a thud. “Why are you like this?”

He tilted his head, beaming like he’d just officiated a wedding. “So… can I come out now?”

You and Jay both answered without missing a beat.

“No.”

—

The two of you had been dating for a whole month now and sneaking around had become a normal occurrence for the two of you.

A month of stolen glances, hushed giggles, and kisses behind closed doors. You came over under the same old pretense, “I’m just hanging out at Jay’s while waiting for Mom to finish work”. It was familiar. There was nothing to question.

Except now, every time you stepped into his room, the door clicked shut behind you and the rest of the world disappeared.

You’d start out pretending to study. Laptops open, notebooks flipped to blank pages, a pencil stuck behind your ear. Jay would sit beside you, his knee pressed against yours, trying really hard for maybe ten minutes. And then he’d look over.

You’d barely meet his eyes before his lips were on yours.

Usually, soft first then it goes deeper, slower, the kind of kissing that made you forget what time it was. It’d be 4:30 one moment and 6:00 the next. He’d push your hair behind your ear, you’d tug lightly on his hoodie, and the math textbook between you would be quietly shoved to the floor by someone’s feet.

It always ended the same way. A knock at the door. Your mom’s voice floating in, “Come on, time to head home!”

You’d jolt apart, breathless, cheeks burning, smoothing out your hair and reaching blindly for a notebook. “Okay!” you’d call out, voice a little too high. Jay would flop back onto his bed, dramatic and pouty.

Your mom would open the door, glance in, see the two of you surrounded by notes and open textbooks, and nod. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

“Just five more minutes,” you’d reply automatically.

She’d leave. And before you could even stand, Jay would hook a finger through your sleeve and pull you gently back down.

One last kiss. And then another. And then five more, because he always said one wasn’t enough. He’d press them to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, grinning like an idiot.

“Do you really have to go?” he’d mumble, arms still around you.

“She’s literally my ride home.”

“I could give you a ride.”

You snorted and leaned back just enough to look at him. “You got your license like... five minutes ago.”

“Exactly. I’m freshly certified. I’m a responsible driver.”

“Jay,” you said flatly, “I heard what grandma said about you hitting the curb”

Jay groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “What a snitch.”

You laughed, pulling away gently as you stood up. “That’s a no, by the way. You’re not driving me home.”

Jay pouted, tugging lightly on your hand. “You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you. I just wanna go home in one piece tonight.”

Still pouting, he leaned up and kissed your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “One day you’ll be begging me for a ride.”

“Sure. The day you stop kissing the curb.”

—

It was another ordinary day, or at least it had started that way. You were in Jay’s room, lying beside him with your head propped on your hand, half-listening to him ramble about something stupid Heeseung had texted. His hand was resting on your knee, your fingers loosely interlocked until the knock came.

The door creaked open a second later.

“Oh,” his mother said, her smile soft but surprised. “You’re here.”

You sat up immediately, your hand slipping out of his. You nodded politely, reaching for your bag even though you weren’t meant to leave for another hour. What used to feel like home now made your shoulders tense. Jay noticed. Of course he did.

“Are you staying for dinner?” his mother asked, stepping inside like she always had.

You shook your head quickly. “No. I was actually just about to leave.”

“So soon?” she pouted slightly. “You haven’t eaten dinner with us in a while.”

“I just have a lot of homework to get through,” you replied with a rehearsed smile, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You turned to Jay, silently asking if he’d stop you, if he’d ask you to stay. But he saw it. The unease in your body, the way your smile didn’t quite meet your eyes. He wanted to reach for you, to pull you back down and kiss the worry out of your forehead. But he didn’t.

He just nodded. Smiled like it didn’t hurt.

“Go,” he said gently.

And so you did.

The door clicked shut behind you.

Jay stood there for a beat, staring at the closed space you’d just filled. Then he turned back, meeting his mother’s gaze across the room.

She crossed her arms. “Is something wrong?” she asked, frowning now. “She hasn’t stayed for dinner in almost two months.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom.”

“I think there is.”

Jay exhaled, his jaw tight. And he hated it…hated how something that was once easy had turned into this sharp-edged discomfort. How your laughter had grown quieter. How he had to love you in secret all because the life carved out for him didn’t have room for anything outside of perfect.

Over the past two months, Jay had started to feel something sour curling inside him. A quiet resentment. Not towards you. Never you. But toward everything else. Toward the silent expectation to carry generations of ambition on his back. He loved his mother, God, he really did. But that love didn’t soften the frustration. It didn’t erase how badly things had shifted between you both since that night.

He had so many things to be grateful for. But all he’d ever really wanted was you. Just to be by your side. And somehow, even that felt like something he wasn’t allowed to have.

“Mom, drop it,” he said, voice flat.

She frowned, stepping further into the room. “Jongseong, you’ve been acting different since the day—”

“That’s because I’ve been talking, and you haven’t been listening,” he snapped.

Her expression faltered. “What do you want me to do, Jong? Your dad and I have worked tirelessly for this opportunity—”

“That I didn’t ask for!” His voice cracked, hands clenched at his sides.

“You are going to that university. It’s in your blood. It’s good for you. And deep down, you know it too. If I told her how important this is, how good it is for you, I’m pretty sure she’d be supportive.”

“Don’t tell her.”

She froze.

“Baby—”

“Don’t. Tell. Her.” he repeated, each word heavier than the last.

His mother blinked, visibly thrown by his tone. And Jay just stood there, chest heaving, trying to hold back the rest of the words rising in his throat. Because if he said more, he wasn’t sure what would come out.

He just knew this: She wasn’t allowed to take you from him, too.

—

The two of you had wandered into a small alleyway market off the main district, less glossy, more charm. Little stalls lined both sides, selling handmade accessories, mismatched shoes, thrifted bags with peeling zippers, and the kind of bracelets that cost just enough to mean something, but not enough to break a wallet.

You stopped in front of a table full of them, rows of braided cords, beaded charms, faded ribbons wrapped around thin, bendy wire. You held up one with small star-shaped beads, smiling a little to yourself.

Jay hovered beside you, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes scanning the stall. “You sure you want one of these?” he asked, not unkindly, just confused. “There’s a place down the street that does custom silver bands. We can go there. I’ll pay.”

You shook your head immediately, the smile slipping off your face. “I don’t want anything too expensive,” you said quietly. “I just want something pretty.”

Jay frowned. “Yeah, but we could get something prettier. Something that’ll last. I just—why not get something better?”

You didn’t say anything at first, just lowered your hand. Something in your chest twisted. He didn’t mean anything by it. You knew that. But it still hit the wrong nerve.

You turned to him, jaw tightening. “Just because I’m buying cheaper things doesn’t mean they’re ass, Jay.”

He blinked, startled. “I didn’t even mean it that way,” he said, voice low but tense. “I just meant—if there’s something you want, I’ll get it for you. That’s all. You don’t have to—”

“I don’t want anything,” you cut in, too fast, too sharp. “Not with your money.”

The silence that followed was instant.

Jay’s brows lifted slightly. He’d been reaching for your hand without even realizing it, but at that, he pulled back. Just a fraction. Just enough to make your heart drop. His expression didn’t shift much, just the tiniest flicker of hurt. But that was worse. You could tell when he was trying not to show it.

You reached for him quickly, fingers wrapping around his hand before he could pull away further. Your grip tightened, desperate.

“I’m sorry,” you said, softer this time. “I didn’t mean it. I just—sometimes I feel weird. I don’t know.”

Jay looked at you for a long moment. And then, wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms.

Your face pressed against his chest, your fists gripped onto the fabric of his hoodie. He didn’t say anything.

“I just want to give you everything,” he whispered after a long silence.

And even though your throat burned, you didn’t cry. You just nodded, clinging to him.

—

Jay stared long and hard at the framed certificates on the wall of his father’s office.

He’d been sitting there ever since he got back from your little date.

You’d cried for almost 30 minutes before finally falling asleep on his shoulder. He’d felt every quiet sob, the uneven rise and fall of your chest. Like being with him hurt.

He knew you loved him. God, he loved you just as much, probably more. But seeing you in that much pain simply because the two of you came from different worlds made his chest ache.

He didn’t care about any of it. Not the money. Not the future his parents had mapped out. Not the name on the wall in front of him.

But you did.

He didn’t know how to fix it. How to make you believe you were never less than him. That you’d always been the best part of his world.

“Jong?”

Jay’s head snapped up. His mother stood at the door, peeking through. He cleared his throat and quickly wiped away a single tear he hadn’t realised had fallen.

“Mom,” he said, nodding stiffly.

He hadn’t spoken to her since the last time she tried to push him into going.

Jay had already made peace with attending a good university in Korea. One that meant a thirty-minute drive from you. One that didn’t require a time zone between your hands. He didn’t care about prestige. He didn’t need legacy. He just needed you.

Because no place could feel like home unless you were there.

He wanted a small, lived-in apartment where the walls were filled with pictures of the two of you, some crooked, some blurry, all perfect. He wanted late mornings and lazy nights, strumming his guitar while you sat on his lap, flipping through TV channels.

He didn’t want boardrooms. He wanted breakfast in bed. He wanted you in his hoodie, laughing at something stupid, your legs tangled with his on the couch. He wanted to choose that life.

He just didn’t know how because his life wasn’t his.

His parents were successful, respectable, powerful, intimidating in every room they walked into. And Jay? He was their only child. The heir. The one meant to carry it all.

He didn’t want to seem ungrateful. He knew he was lucky. But sometimes…he wished he was at Goober Galaxy right next to you. Sweeping floors, handing out stickers, chasing after toddlers. Living the kind of life he got to choose.

He wished he could trade places with Jungwon, just for a moment. To know what it felt like to live freely, to love without strings.

But he wasn’t Jungwon.

He was stuck. Caged by expectations that didn’t belong to him. And no one had asked if he wanted them.

“Your dad wants to see you.”

Jay blinked. His mother was still standing in the doorway, phone in hand, the screen already lit up with a call. He swallowed. She passed it to him without another word.

Jay sat up straighter, the back of his neck already tensing as he accepted the phone. His father's face filled the screen, sharp suit, crisp tie, backdrop of a sleek conference room somewhere in Hong Kong. The time zone difference didn't matter. His father always made time when it came to lectures.

“Jongseong,” his father began without pleasantries, eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s this I hear about you not wanting to attend Oxford?”

Jay opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He glanced at the wall, at the same framed degree he’d been staring at moments earlier, and felt the familiar weight return to his chest.

With his mother, he always knew what to say. How to deflect, how to counter her logic with his own. But with his father… it was different.

With his father, Jay always felt like a little boy again.

Like he wasn’t the man of the house, but a kid sitting at the edge of a chair too big for him, trying not to swing his legs.

With his father gone so often, Jay had stepped into the role by default…holding things down, keeping things quiet, managing expectations. But every time his dad reappeared, even just through a screen, it was like the years peeled off and left him exposed.

He felt his mouth go dry. His fingers curled tightly around the edge of the phone.

“I’ve… decided not to go,” he said finally, voice quiet but steady.

There was a pause. A beat of silence that buzzed louder than any scolding.

“Decided?” his father repeated, eyes narrowing. “Jong, we don’t just decide things. You know that.”

His voice rose, firm and cold.

“We’re not like anyone else. Do you understand that? You don’t get to just throw away opportunities people would kill for.”

Jay swallowed again, throat tight. He wanted to argue. He wanted to say I don’t want it. I never did. But the words sat heavy in his chest, unmoving.

He didn’t want any of it. But how could he say that to a man who had spent his entire life building it?

“I—”

“Son,” his father’s voice dropped, deeper now, tinged with concern. “I didn’t… we didn’t build this by making decisions that went against our family. We built this by honouring tradition. By upholding it.”

“Dad—”

“We’re not just… anyone, Jongseong. You have to remember that. Even when it comes to the people we keep close.”

Jay’s eyes flicked to his mother, still standing in the doorway. Her gaze faltered just slightly.

So she told him. About you.

Of course she did.

And now it wasn’t just about the university anymore. It was about you. About everything he’d kept safe and sacred. Everything he thought he could keep separate.

—

You barged into his room with your bag slung over your right shoulder, hair slightly windblown..

“School was so boring!” you groaned, flopping straight onto his sofa. Without warning, you dropped your head onto his lap, staring up at the ceiling.

“But you wouldn’t guess what happened though,” you continued, grin creeping onto your face. “I got an A for Biology and Hee got an F, so now he has to retake the test. He looked like he was about to cry—”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Jay wasn’t laughing.

He wasn’t smiling.

His eyes were somewhere else, fixed on a spot just past you, like he wasn’t really here at all.

Your smile faltered.

You sat up slowly, shifting your weight until you were straddling his lap. His hands instinctively moved to your waist, but his gaze was still lost. So you reached for his face. Your hands cradled his jaw, thumbs pressing gently into the softness of his cheeks as you squished them together.

“Jay?” you said softly, brows furrowed. “Where’d you go?”

That finally pulled his eyes back to you.

He blinked, like surfacing from deep water, lips parted as if he’d forgotten how to speak.

“Jay?” you repeated, your voice quieter now, more cautious.

Jay shook his head quickly, almost like he was trying to shake something off. Then his hands tightened around your waist, grounding himself.

“Baby,” he murmured.

“You okay?” you asked, eyes searching his face.

He nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”

But he wasn’t. Not even close.

Ever since the call with his father, the decision had been made for him…he would be going to Oxford. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a discussion. It was a statement, sharp and final. There was no room to disagree, no room to even think.

Not that he had a choice. He never really did.

Jay had spent the entire night buried under the covers of his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as the hours ticked by. His phone had lit up over and over again, messages from his mom, soft knocks at the door but he hadn’t moved.

He didn’t want to read what she had to say. He didn’t want to hear reassurances...not anymore. Because the truth was, nothing anyone said would make it feel any better.

And now here you were, sitting in his lap, smiling like the sun, laughing about your day, trusting that the world hadn’t just changed for him entirely.

He didn’t know how to tell you.

Didn’t know how to say he was leaving.

Didn’t know how to break your heart when you had only just handed it to him.

But he had to.

Because he was leaving.

At this point, it wasn’t about academics. It wasn’t about prestige. It was about control.

His father thought this was the cleanest way to fix things.

Remove the distraction.

Remove the attachment.

Remove you.

Jay felt it in his chest, this sick, sinking sense of being packaged up and delivered to a life he never chose. Like this would be better. Like this would make things easier. Not for him. But for them.

—

You were worried.

Jay wasn’t acting like himself. He wasn’t snarky, or smug, or sarcastic in the way you’d come to love. He wasn’t cracking jokes or teasing you every time you said something dumb. He was quiet and distracted.

Jay was usually good at hiding things. But today… today, whatever it was had cracked through.

So naturally, you turned to the two most emotionally stunted people you knew.

“I think he’s broken,” you declared, arms folded on the table in front of you. “Like, actually broken.”

Jungwon blinked. “Did you try turning him off and back on again?”

“I’m serious, Won,” you said, glaring at Jungwon, “He hasn’t texted me all day. And yesterday, he...was so different? I don’t know what’s wrong but it’s not nothing.”

“Have you considered…” Jungwon began, “that he’s just constipated?”

“Jungwon, I swear to God—”

“I’m just saying, emotional constipation and actual constipation are cousins.”

“Please shut up,” you muttered, face in your hands.

Across from you, Heeseung was flipping through his notebook like he wasn’t listening. But then he spoke, casually, without even looking up.

“Why don’t you plan something lowkey for him?” he said. “Like, something you guys used to do. Remind him what home feels like. He clearly needs it.”

You and Jungwon both froze.

Then slowly, you turned to look at him.

Heeseung glanced up, blinking at your silence. “What?”

Jungwon pointed at him dramatically. “Holy shit, that’s the first good idea you’ve ever had.”

You side-eyed Jungwon. “You haven’t had a good idea today either, Won.”

“Yeah, but I usually do,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. “So this makes up for it.”

Still, you leaned back in your chair, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you let the idea settle.

Something simple. Something that would pull Jay out of whatever fog he was in and back into the version of himself he only ever seemed to be around you.

Maybe Heeseung was right. Maybe it wasn’t about fixing anything. Maybe it was about reminding him that he was loved.

–

You sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows resting on your knees, hands fidgeting with the sleeve of your hoodie. Jay was upstairs grabbing something, his keys maybe, or a jacket, or just taking forever like he always did. You’d planned everything with Jungwon and Heeseung down to the detail. A quiet dinner at your place. His favourite food, his favourite people, and a homemade banner Jungwon insisted on duct-taping across your kitchen ceiling.

You tapped your feet against the floor, eyes flicking between the staircase and the coffee table in front of you.

“Oh—hey!”

You hadn’t expected to run into his mom.

She came out from the hallway with a small stack of neatly folded towels, pausing slightly when she saw you there. Then her face relaxed into a smile, almost like the kind you couldn’t quite read.

“Oh, you’re here early,” she said lightly, crossing into the living room. “Jong’s still upstairs?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Said he’d just be a minute.”

She set the towels down on the armchair, smoothing one absent-mindedly. “How have you been? It feels like I haven’t seen you properly in ages.”

You stiffened slightly. Not out of rudeness. Just… because you never knew how to be around her anymore. Not since that night.

Still, you tried to keep your voice even. “I’ve been okay. School’s been a little hectic.”

“Mmm, I remember those days,” she said fondly. “So much pressure to figure everything out. Especially now.”

She gave you a knowing look, and you tried to return it, even though your stomach twisted.

A moment of silence passed. You glanced down at your hands.

“I really haven’t seen you around much,” she added gently, “Not even for dinner.”

You gave a small shrug. “I’ve just been… busy.”

Her gaze flicked to the corner of the room, almost like she wanted to say more. But then she smiled again, too quickly.

“I’m actually waiting for a delivery,” she said, as if to fill the quiet. “Should be arriving soon.”

“Oh?” you said, seizing the normalcy in her tone. “Something exciting?”

She waved a hand. “Just a new luggage set.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. “Ooh, another vacation, Mrs. Park?”

She laughed softly. “Oh, no, not for me. It’s for Jay, we’re giving it to him before he goes to Oxford.”

And just like that, the world stopped.

The words didn’t even sound dramatic. Just a casual statement, something said mid-sentence, in passing.

But your brain latched onto it like it was the only thing that mattered.

Your mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

Oxford…

Oxford?

Jay was going to Oxford.

Your chest constricted. “Oxford?” you repeated, and you hated how your voice sounded small and uncertain.

Mrs. Park blinked, like she was only just realizing what she said. “Oh… oh, didn’t he tell you?”

Your heart dropped.

Your ears started to ring.

“He’s been accepted for early enrolment,” she continued, her smile faltering just slightly. “We’ve been sorting everything out this week. He’ll finish his last semester online and leave by the end of next month.”

End of next month.

That was four weeks.

Four weeks.

Four weeks left with Jay, and he hadn’t said a word.

“I thought you knew,” she said gently. “I’m so sorry, I assumed—”

But you didn’t hear the rest.

You could barely hear anything past the blood rushing in your ears. Your throat tightened. The lump rising felt sharp, like glass.

You nodded. Or at least you think you did. Some vague, stiff movement that looked enough like understanding to make her stop talking.

Upstairs, you heard Jay’s door creak open. His voice called out, cheerful and completely unaware.

“You ready?”

You stood up too fast, your legs unsteady. The smile you threw on felt like someone else’s.

Because right now, your heart was already cracking.

And he didn’t even know yet.

–

Jay was finally driving you. In his new car.

It was sleek, glossy black, still smelling faintly of showroom leather. The dashboard glowed with lights, the music system softly playing an instrumental track you barely registered. You’d never ridden in a car with him driving before. A month ago, that would’ve made you tease him endlessly, maybe fake a scream when he made a sharp turn, joke that your life was in his hands now. He would’ve laughed, reached over to pinch your knee, and said something stupid like, "Relax, I got my license in one try."

But now, you just sat there… quiet.

Your hands stayed clamped in your lap, fingers twisting into each other until you found the skin along your thumb and picked. You pulled. Peeled the hangnail until a thin trail of red welled up against your nail bed. You rubbed it away quickly with the sleeve of your hoodie.

Jay’s eyes flicked over from the road. Then back. Then again.

“You okay?” he asked carefully, hands still gripping the wheel. “You haven’t said a word since we left.”

You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Because how could you?

How could you turn to him and ask ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ How could you ask ‘Was I supposed to find out from your mom? Like a stranger?’

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry and beat your fists against the dashboard and shake the truth out of him.

“Baby?”

His voice pulled you out of your spiral. Your head snapped up.

“Huh?”

Jay glanced over again. “Something’s clearly going on.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice too tight to be convincing.

He didn’t buy it. “Is this because I’ve been acting weird? I swear it’s all good now. I’m good.”

You shook your head and tried to laugh, but the sound came out cracked and hollow. “No, no. I just—”

Jay gave you a look. “Now I know you’re lying. You’re not about to pass that off as your real laugh.”

“I guess I’m just… worried, that’s all,” you said, brushing a loose thread off your jeans.

Jay’s brows knit. “Worried about what?”

You stared out the window, watching the blur of trees and apartment buildings pass. Your voice dropped. “The future.”

He didn’t press.

He turned onto your street, easing the car to a slow stop right outside your house. The engine purred into silence, but the tension between you roared. Still, you didn’t move. You didn’t speak.

He waited, hoping, maybe, that you’d open up. That you’d say something. But you didn’t. You just shrugged, gave him a vague “I guess,” and unbuckled your seatbelt like the conversation had ended.

The car locks clicked open.

You were already halfway out the door.

Jay cursed softly under his breath and slammed his door shut a second later, jogging after you. You’d unlocked your front door with shaky fingers and were about to step in when he caught up.

“You’re mad,” he said from behind you.

“I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.” His voice was tense now. “Baby, c’mon, did… did I do something? I’m sorry. I really am.”

You stopped in the hallway. Still didn’t turn.

Your heart thudded in your chest, hard and loud. You didn’t want to look at him because you knew that if you did, you knew everything would fall apart. You’d been holding it together and he was tugging on the last thread without even knowing it.

But it was the way he apologised, when he didn’t even know what for, that did it.

You turned.

Your eyes were red. Not just teary, bloodshot, swollen, like you hadn’t slept in days. You weren’t crying yet, but your expression… it was wrecked. Like someone trying to hold back a flood that had already started leaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered.

Jay froze. He looked at you like you’d just split him open.

“Tell you what?” he asked softly, though the dread was already sinking into his eyes.

“That you were going.”

Jay’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

And then the pain hit again, your words echoing off the hallway walls, hanging between you like smoke.

“I…” He tried. God, he tried.

But the words didn’t come.

Because how could he explain it? How could he say, ‘I didn’t want to see this look on your face?’ How could he say, ‘I tried fighting for us but it wasn’t enough?’

You shook your head slowly. “You were going to leave without telling me.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it?”

Jay stepped closer, voice trembling now. “I didn’t want to lie. I just… I kept waiting for the right time. But every time I saw you, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to see you look at me like I was already gone.”

“But you are,” you choked out. “Aren’t you?”

His face crumpled.

“I didn’t choose this.”

“Not telling me was a choice. Your choice.”

Jay dragged a hand down his face, chest rising with shallow breaths. He looked older in that moment.

“I tried to stay. I told my dad I didn’t want to go. I told him this—” he gestured between the two of you, eyes glassy, “you — this is what matters to me. But he didn’t care. He never does.”

Your lip trembled, but you held it. “Then you should’ve told me.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

He took another step. Close enough to touch now, but he didn’t. Not yet.

“I was scared you’d hate me.”

You looked up at him then and for the first time, he saw it all: the betrayal, the grief, the love.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, voice breaking. “I just didn’t want to be the last to know you were leaving.”

Jay’s breath hitched. His shoulders dropped.

“I’m not trying to leave you,” he said, so quietly it almost sounded like a plea. “They’re just making me go. Please.”

You didn’t answer. Your throat was too tight.

He stepped forward, slowly, gently cupping your face with both hands.

“You’re the only thing I don’t want to leave behind.”

And this time, when the tears came, you didn’t stop them.

Your face crumpled as you collapsed into his chest, your arms wrapping tightly around his middle like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. Jay held you immediately, his hands splaying across your back, his cheek resting against the top of your head. .

“I’m not leaving,” he said suddenly, the words tumbling out in a single breath.

You blinked up at him through wet lashes. “What?”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, more firmly now. “I never wanted to go. I’m not going. I’m staying.”

You pulled back slightly, brows furrowing. “Jongseong… you can’t just up and ignore your parents—”

“I’m not ignoring them,” he cut in, “I’m just finally standing up for myself. Look. I don’t even want to go. If I’m not allowed to make my own choices about my own future, then what am I? A puppet?”

“Jong…”

“God, I love them,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair, frustrated but honest. “I love my parents so much. But if they truly give a shit then they’ll just have to respect me enough to let me make my own decisions. They can’t keep deciding my life for me and call it parenting because it’s not.”

You hesitated. “Jong, you’re not doing this solely for me, are you?”

Jay sighed.

“I’ll admit that a huge part of me wants to stay because of you,” he said, not flinching. “Of course I do. But it’s not just that.”

He stepped back slightly, just enough to look you in the eye. “I don’t want to be living somewhere where I don't know anyone. I don’t want to start over. I don’t want to wake up in a city that doesn’t have you, Hee, or Won. And c’mon, there are good schools here — great ones, even. I can still make something of myself without crossing an ocean for a name, all while being here…with you.”

You searched his face, your chest tight.

“But your dad—”

“Can live with my decision,” Jay said, quiet but certain. “I’ve been pretending I could live with this, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

He took your hands, thumbs brushing over your still-shaking fingers.

“I’m happier when I’m with you,” he said, voice cracking just slightly. “When I’m here. With you guys. Near the people who make me feel like I’m already enough.”

You swallowed hard. His grip tightened.

“I’m not giving that up for a future that doesn’t even feel like mine. So please…don’t make me go.”

You breathed, like you’d been holding it in, “Okay.”

He sighed like the weight pressing on his chest had finally loosened.

And then he kissed you.

There was no hesitation, no inch of space left between you. It wasn’t delicate or careful, it was immediate, all heat.

His hands slipped from yours and rose to cradle your face, palms warm against your cheeks, thumbs brushing the corners of your mouth like he needed to feel you. His lips crashed into yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat. You leaned into him instinctively, your hands fisting in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. His nose brushed against yours, his lips parting against your bottom lip, tasting the salt of your tears.

It wasn’t perfect. It was messy, and rushed, and aching. His mouth trembled just a little when he kissed you. Jay’s thumb traced along your jaw, slow and reverent, while his other hand slid behind your neck.

Your knees felt weak. Your lungs burned. But none of that mattered. Because he was kissing you.

“So… like, uh… do we come out now or…?”

You and Jay froze.

From behind the sofa, Jungwon slowly popped his head out, holding a cake with “Stop Being Sad!” scrawled messily across the top in blue icing. Heeseung followed a beat later, scratching the back of his neck.

“We could, like… pretend we aren’t here,” Heeseung muttered, glancing down at the cake as if he suddenly regretted every life choice that led him to this moment.

You and Jay instinctively pulled apart, both of you flushed and teary-eyed, your breaths still uneven. It wasn’t exactly how you wanted to be seen.

Jungwon winced at the sight of you two. “Uh. Sorry? We were gonna jump out and yell surprise, but like… then you guys were fighting then the next thing we knew you were kissing so–”

Jay dragged a hand down his face with a low groan. “Oh my god. What are you guys even doing here?”

“We were going to throw a surprise feel-better party,” Heeseung said flatly, lifting a plastic bag of takeout containers, “but if I’m being honest, I think we're the ones more surprised.”

Heeseung sighed before continuing, “We even brought your favorite food. Well… kinda. I think Jungwon ate half the fries while we were waiting.”

Jay didn’t say anything. Just let out a slow breath and sank into the sofa, his body folding inward like something was caving in. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. His thumbs rubbed together, a nervous habit. One you’d seen since you were kids.

But Jay didn’t look at anyone.

His eyes were fixed on the floor, staring through it.

You watched him from across the room, your own shoulders still tense, fingers curled around the frayed edge of your hoodie sleeve. He hadn’t said much since the kiss. Since the apology. Since he told you he was staying. And now, sitting there in your living room, he looked smaller somehow.

He was staying. But that decision came with consequences and Jay knew exactly who he had to face next.

The thought of confronting his father made his chest tighten. Not just in fear but in something closer to shame. Not because he regretted his choice. But because he knew what that choice would cost him. What it had always cost him.

The memory came back before he could stop it. A flicker of a younger version of himself, standing in the marble foyer of his family’s house, backpack still on, heart pounding after sneaking back in too late. His father’s voice slicing through the silence. “You skipped prep school?” His tone wasn’t surprised. It was more like disappointment. And then the yelling came and it didn’t stop. Not till three hours later.

But all Jay could remember was the way your face had looked earlier that day, eyes wide and glowing under a canopy of fairy lights at the amusement park. The way your hand had never let go of his. How you’d smiled like the whole world had finally opened up for you. And how, just for that one afternoon, he didn’t care about anything. He just wanted you to feel like someone had chosen you.

And now, he was choosing you again.

Except this time, he had no idea how to explain that to the man who had spent his whole life choosing everything for him.

The room had gone quiet, heavy with the things no one wanted to say aloud.

Jungwon, seated cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, glanced up and studied Jay’s profile for a moment. Then, gently, he asked, “Thinking about how you wanna talk to your dad?”

Jay’s jaw tightened. He nodded once, not looking up. “Yep.” The word left his mouth flat, clipped, like he didn’t trust himself to say anything more.

He leaned in further, pressing his hands together, elbows braced against his thighs. His voice dropped to a murmur. “I don’t even know how to start. It’s like… the moment I stand in front of him, I’m twelve again.”

You moved before you could stop yourself.

Quietly, you crossed the room and eased down beside him on the sofa. The cushion dipped beneath your weight, your knee brushing his. His shoulders didn’t flinch, but they didn’t relax either.

You slipped your hand into his.

Jay blinked. Looked down at your fingers curled around his.

And when you spoke, your voice was soft. “Do you want me to be there?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he stared at your joined hands, breathing slowly through his nose like he was trying to think. But you could see the shift. The hesitation that made your stomach turn.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Your brows pulled together. “What do you mean?”

Jay let go of your hand slowly. He rubbed his palm against his jeans and sat back slightly, like creating space might help him form the words he was scared to say.

“I just… I think it might be easier if I go alone,” he said. “He’ll be less... intense. If it’s just me.”

You frowned. “Jay.”

He didn’t look at you.

“That’s not the real reason, is it?”

Jay shut his eyes, jaw clenched. Then, reluctantly, he nodded. “No. It’s not.”

“Then what?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

He hesitated. Again. And when he finally spoke, it was carefull.

“He just… doesn’t understand,” Jay said slowly. “Why I want to stay. Why that matters more than prestige or legacy or whatever. And bringing you into that conversation might just… complicate things. He’s upset. It’ll pass.”

But you heard it.

The way he didn’t say it.

You sat back slightly, looking at him now, “Complicate things,” you repeated.

Jay nodded faintly.

You stared at him for a moment, piecing it together. And then your voice came out flat. “You mean to say... they don’t think I belong in your world.”

Jay’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No. Those aren’t my words. I’d never—”

“But they’re his,” you said softly. Not accusatory. Just… hurt.

Jay’s voice broke as he reached for you again. “I…I don’t agree with anything they’re saying.”

But the words, even as warm and trembling and full of love as they were, couldn’t take back what you already knew.

You blinked hard.

“It’s funny…I really thought they liked me,” you said, more to yourself than him. “I really did. I thought I was like family.”

“You are. To me, you always have been.”

But that wasn’t the same.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers now curled in on themselves. “So all this time… they just smiled at me and still thought I wasn’t enough.”

Jay’s hands fell to his sides. His voice cracked. “It’s not about you—”

“It is, though,” you whispered. “That’s exactly what it is.”

He didn’t argue. Because he knew. And you knew he knew.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers now curled in on themselves. “So all this time… they just smiled at me and still thought I wasn’t enough.”

Jay’s hands fell uselessly to his sides. His voice cracked, almost a whisper. “It’s not about you—”

“It is, though,” you said, quieter now. “That’s exactly what it is.”

No one spoke.

Not you, not Jay and not Jungwon or Heeseung, who had been silently sitting off to the side, exchanging hesitant glances as if trying to gauge whether they should stay or disappear. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was heavy.

Then, slowly, you stood up.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” you said, your voice strained but steady. “I just… I think I need some time alone.”

Jungwon blinked, rising immediately without protest. “Of course,” he said gently, grabbing his jacket.

“Take all the time you need,” Heeseung added, pulling Jungwon by the arm, guiding him out of the room.

And just like that, it was only you and Jay.

He hadn’t moved. But his eyes never left you, still wide, still searching, like he was waiting for some version of you to reach back out and say this wasn’t real. That you didn’t mean it.

You exhaled sharply, hugging your arms across your chest. “Jong, I need time. Alone.”

He rose to his feet, almost stumbling forward. “I can’t possibly leave you alone with all these thoughts—”

“With what thoughts?” you snapped, voice wobbling. “That your parents think I’m not good enough for you?”

Your throat tightened as tears welled up again, threatening to fall. “For the record, Jay, I’m precious to other people too.”

And that cracked something in him.

Jay’s breath caught in his chest as he watched you fall apart in front of him.

He couldn’t speak. He should’ve swallowed his fear. Should’ve protected you better. But instead, here you were, crumbling under the weight of his parents’ ignorance and all he could do was watch it happen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

You were already shaking your head. “Jay, they’re right,” you said, your voice cracking as tears spilled down your cheeks. “I’m crying because they’re right.”

“No,” he said quickly, stepping closer.

“They’re not—”

“Look at us!” you cut in. “From the moment we got together till now, we’ve been fighting over the same thing. Me and you. We don’t belong in the same world. And you know it.”

Jay flinched.

You took a breath but it came out in pieces. “What’s gonna happen in the future, huh? When you’re out there doing all these big world things and I’m just… I’m just stuck. Working at a stupid kids’ playground, scraping money together just so I can go out with my friends like a normal person?”

You couldn’t breathe between sentences now. It was all tumbling out, everything you’d been burying deep inside.

“No,” he muttered under his breath. Then louder, “Enough.”

You startled at the sharpness in his voice.

“That’s enough,” he said again, stepping forward in two long strides before pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you so tightly. “Stop. Please,” he whispered against your hair. “Just stop.”

You didn’t fight it. You were too tired. Too worn. You just stood there, pressed against him, your hands balled.

“I love you,” Jay said suddenly, voice rough. “I fucking love you. How can you even say that? That you’re not enough?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face now, his forehead pressed to yours.

“I don’t care about status. I don’t care what my parents built. I don’t care about any of it. The only thing I care about is you.”

His chest rose and fell too fast, like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.

“I spend day and night thinking only about you. I always think about you. Dreaming that someday, I’ll get to wake up next to you and not have to keep it a secret. That I can walk out into the world and tell everyone that you’re mine. That I chose you. Over everything.”

You didn’t speak, didn’t move. Your heart felt like it was breaking and being stitched back together at the same time.

“I don’t care where we live,” he said fiercely. “I don’t care if it’s some shabby motel room or a one-room apartment over a laundromat. I just care that you’re there. Right beside me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His voice softened, cracked down the middle.

“If my mom and dad can’t see that? Then fine. Whatever. Let them be blind. Because… the only thing I’ve ever really wanted, the only thing that’s ever mattered, is this.”

He gripped your face tighter, thumbs brushing your tear-streaked cheeks. “Us. Our relationship. You.”

Your chest shook with the sob you hadn’t meant to let out.

And this time, when you collapsed into him, it wasn’t from sadness.

It was from the unbearable weight of being unconditionally loved.

–

Jay’s house had always been intimidating in a quiet, understated way not because it was large or lavish (although it was), but because of the tension that wafted it in the air. A kind of coldness that never really went away, even when his mom was smiling or his dad was out of town. You felt it now more than ever as you stood in the hallway outside his father’s office, the sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor echoing louder than you wanted it to.

You were in a pretty little dress, nothing flashy, just enough to look presentable. Your hair was done in a half ponytail, neat and soft, something you’d fixed just before you came even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. Jay had decided to bring you with him. After everything, the two of you had spent the night talking, curled up together on your couch, deciding that no matter what happened in that room, you would walk out together.

Even if that meant Jay leaving with three suitcases and no home to return to.

When the heavy double doors to the office opened, thunder cracked outside, almost like the sky itself was warning you. Jay flinched. So did you. But still, he stepped in first, fingers tightly curled around yours, and you followed behind him into the room.

His father sat behind his massive mahogany desk, posture straight, glasses perched low on his nose, the blue light from his laptop casting sharp shadows across his face. He looked like any other wealthy middle-aged man, if you were being honest, if you didn’t know better, you’d never guess how much power his voice held over Jay. How that man could reduce him to something so small with a few words.

“Close the door,” his father said without looking up.

Jay obeyed wordlessly. The soft click of the door shutting made your heart pound louder in your ears.

The silence was unbearable. The only sounds in the room were the quiet clack of his father’s typing, the occasional pop from the crackling fire in the fireplace, and the rush of blood in your ears. You could feel Jay’s hand trembling in yours as he led you closer toward the desk.

His mother sat just to the side in one of the leather armchairs, perfectly composed. She looked at your joined hands, then up at you both. Her expression was unreadable, but when she exhaled, you caught the faintest trace of defeat in it.

Jay stopped just a step short of the desk. You could feel the tension in his body, the rigid line of his shoulders, the way he shifted his weight slightly from one foot to the other like he was grounding himself.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m not going.”

The typing stopped.

The silence that followed was louder than anything else that had come before it. His father slowly closed the laptop, fingers steepled over it as he raised his head. And then, he smiled.

Not a kind smile. Not even a confused one.

It was the kind of smile you gave when you thought someone was playing a prank on you. Condescending. Amused, but in that way that made you feel small.

“Not going?” he repeated, voice low but laced with ice. He leaned back in his chair. “And who exactly made that decision?”

Jay’s grip on your hand tightened.

“I did,” he said, voice steady but strained. “Because it’s my life.”

There was a moment where the room stood still.

Then came the slam.

THWACK.

His father’s palm hit the desk with a force that made you flinch and Jay instinctively step a little in front of you.

His dad’s face darkened, his voice rising now. “You did?” he echoed. “You decided to throw away Oxford. Throw away everything we’ve worked for. Everything I’ve sacrificed for this family. For what? Her?”

Jay didn’t respond.

His father’s eyes flicked to you, cold and sharp. You tried not to shrink under it, but it was hard, your chest felt like it was caving in on itself. He continued, now addressing his son with pointed disgust. “I always knew you were impulsive, but I didn’t think you were stupid. Do you understand what you’re giving up?”

Jay stayed still. Then slowly, he nodded.

“I do,” he said softly. “And I’m still not going.”

His dad scoffed, jaw tightening. “This isn’t just about you. This is about our name. Our reputation. Do you think you can waltz out of this house and pretend like your choices don’t affect the rest of us? Do you think—”

Jay stepped forward then.

“I’m not pretending. I know they affect you. But this—” he motioned between you and him, “this affects me too. And for once, I’m choosing the life I want to live.”

You could feel your lungs struggle for air.

Jay’s mom shifted in her seat, something soft flickering across her face. Her eyes moved back to the two of you, and this time, it lingered.

His dad rose to his feet.

“Then you can pack your things,” he said coldly. “And leave.”

Jay didn’t say a word. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the office like the walls themselves were going to swallow him whole if he didn’t move fast enough. The last glimpse you caught before the door shut was his father, still standing, his expression unreadable save for the sharp stare he gave you and his mother, her eyes lingering on you.

Then you were in his room. The room you’d spent so many years in. The room where you studied on the floor for hours, where you once fell asleep watching movies with your legs tangled together. But now, it felt different. Felt almost unfamiliar despite the million times you’ve been in there.

Jay was moving fast, throwing open his wardrobe doors, yanking shirts and jackets off hangers, pulling drawers open and emptying clothes into an open suitcase. It was all happening so fast you could barely process it. You stood there, frozen by the door, the click of the doorknob behind you still echoing in your ears.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak. Your limbs were locked in place like your body had gone into shock. Guilt rose steadily in your chest, thick and choking.

“Baby…” your voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t think… shouldn’t we talk? Shouldn’t there be more to it than just this?”

Jay didn’t stop packing. He only glanced at you briefly, his eyes hard, lips set. “Talk about what?” he said sharply. “They’re never going to listen.”

You walked over to him slowly, your hand reaching for his arm, grounding yourself. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason you stop talking to your family. This is heavy, Jay. This burden—it’s heavy as hell.” Your voice cracked near the end, and you hated it. Hated how weak you sounded. Hated how helpless this all felt.

Jay finally paused, his shoulders still heaving with frustration. He turned to you, placed both hands gently on your shoulders, thumbs brushing your skin as if that alone could reassure you. His voice dropped, low and tender, full of a kind of pain that was older than this moment.

“Baby, this isn’t about them right now. It’s about me. About trying to live my own life. I’m so tired of living a version of me that only exists to please them. I’ve been the perfect son for years, and now…” His hands tightened, eyes boring into yours. “Now I’m just trying to take my life back.”

You looked up at him for a long second, your breath caught in your chest, and then you slowly nodded. Wordlessly, you stepped beside him and knelt, beginning to fold the wrinkled clothes he had shoved into his suitcase. You couldn’t fix anything, not really, but you could help him pack.

He watched you for a moment. The way your eyes were lowered, expression unreadable. Guilt settled heavy in his stomach. He knew you were hurting not because of something you did, but simply because of who you were. And how his family had decided that was somehow… not enough.

Then he felt it.

Eyes on him.

Jay turned toward the door.

His mother stood there, a hand still clutched lightly against the frame, her face soft and wet with tears. Her gaze flickered from him to you, back again. “Jong…” she said, her voice cracking. “Don’t go.”

His heart squeezed. God, he’d always had a soft spot for her. For the way she brushed the hair from his eyes when he was sick, for the quiet way she defended him during family dinners. She loved him and he knew that. But when it came to standing up to his father, she never stood a chance.

“Mom…” he said, his voice breaking.

“Jong, please,” she whispered again.

He looked down. Then at you. You stood slowly now, standing behind him, your hands twisted tightly together, fingers fidgeting in a desperate attempt to stay grounded.

Jay swallowed hard. “I’m not going,” he said, barely more than a breath. “And if it’s too much for you or Dad to handle, then I’ll leave.”

His mother stepped into the room, shaking her head, eyes red. “I tried talking to your father—”

“He’s not going to change his mind, Mom.”

“He can. We can try.”

Jay let out a bitter laugh, short and sharp. “I’ve been trying. For years. And nothing’s ever budged.”

She stepped closer, voice pleading now. “What if you went? Just for now? You could visit every few months—”

“Because I don’t want to!” Jay’s voice rose, his frustration boiling over, his fists clenched at his sides. “The love of my life is here. I want to be here. My friends are here. You’re here. I don’t want to go somewhere where I don’t know anyone, where I have to pretend like I’m someone I’m not.”

He was crying now. A mess of breathless anger and heartbreak. He looked at his mom, desperate for her to see him. To see you.

“You used to tell me stories, remember?” he said, voice trembling. “How Dad courted you for three years. How you didn’t even like him at first, but he waited. You told me about your love story growing up. And now what? I don’t get to have one?”

His voice broke completely.

“I’m in love with her, Mom,” he whispered, his hand reaching behind to find yours again. “And I can’t let you or Dad take her away from me.”

The door slammed open with a violent crack, bouncing off the wall behind it. You jumped, your breath caught in your throat as Jay instinctively turned, stepping back to shield you behind him.

His father stood in the doorway, tall and unmoving. His expression was unreadable.

Jay stiffened in front of you, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides as he positioned himself like a barrier. He didn’t say anything. Neither did you. It was like the two of you were back in school, caught sneaking out past curfew, facing down a teacher.

“You’re comparing whatever you have with her to the story of your mother and me,” his father said, his voice calm but sharp, every syllable slicing through the room like glass. “So tell me, Jongseong. What makes you so sure she’s the one?”

Jay blinked. “What?”

The question caught him off guard. Of all the things his father could’ve said… that wasn’t it.

His father took a slow step forward, hands still tucked neatly into his pockets. “You’re willing to give up your education. Your future. Everything your mother and I worked for. You’re willing to throw it all away for her.” He didn’t look at you when he said it, only at Jay. “So explain to me. What makes you think the two of you are so special? What makes you believe this is real? That it’s not just some immature, irresponsible decision for a—” his voice dipped, “—a passing fling.”

You felt the breath leave your lungs.

Jay’s shoulders tightened in front of you, his jaw clenching so tightly you could see the muscles twitch. He didn’t move at first. Just stood there.

You swallowed hard, your eyes locked on the back of Jay’s hoodie, your fingers trembling at your sides.

Jay turned slowly, just enough to glance back at you. His eyes met yours for the briefest second.

He looked back at his father, drawing a breath.

“I know,” Jay said, voice steady, though it cracked faintly at the edges. “I know because I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I’ve never fought this hard for anything before. And it’s not a fling. It’s her. It’s always been her.”

His father raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And that’s supposed to be enough? A feeling?”

“No,” Jay replied, firmer now. “It’s not just a feeling. It’s the fact that I see my entire life with her. Not just today. Not just tomorrow. All of it. I don’t care if we’re rich or broke or living in a shoebox apartment. I want her there with me. I want to wake up next to her, argue with her over dumb things, bring her coffee when she’s tired, learn how to braid our daughter’s hair if we ever have one…that’s how sure I am.”

You blinked, your heart thudding so hard it hurt.

Jay stepped forward, his voice rising slightly. “You want to know what makes this real? It’s that when I think about what makes me feel safe, what makes me feel like I have a home, it’s her. Not a country, not a job, not a title. It’s her.”

He turned and reached for your hand again, threading your fingers through his, holding you tightly like he was afraid the world might tear you away at any moment.

“And if you can’t see that,” Jay said, looking directly into his father’s eyes now, “then maybe it’s not me who’s being reckless. Maybe it’s you for thinking love has to come with a some sort of societal hierarchy.”

The room fell silent again.

Jay’s father didn’t move. His face didn’t change.

“Then so be it,” he said.

Jay stiffened, not expecting him to fold, at least not like this.

“I expect three schools you’re planning to apply to. On my desk. Monday morning.” His gaze flicked between the two of you, briefly, unreadable. “Top three in the country. Or you’re going to Oxford. That’s the deal.”

And just like that, he turned and left.

The sound of his shoes against the hardwood echoed down the hall. The door clicked shut behind him.

You turned slowly to Jay, still gripping his hand, still trying to find your footing.

His eyes were locked on the door his father had disappeared behind. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move.

You gently brushed your thumb against the back of his hand. “Jong?”

He blinked, once. Then again. And finally turned to look at you.

“He didn’t say no,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “He didn’t… shut the door.”

“No,” you said softly, stepping closer. “He didn’t.”

Jay nodded slowly, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. Not completely.

Because this wasn’t a win.

But it wasn’t a loss either.

–

Things at home were still tense. No one had said much since the confrontation. His dad mostly kept to himself. His mom cooked in silence. Meals were eaten quickly and apart. It felt like everyone was walking on glass, afraid one wrong step would crack it all open again.

You were at Jay’s place, waiting for your mom to finish work so she could swing by and pick you up. The rain had just stopped outside, leaving the windows streaked with droplets, a quiet stillness hanging in the air like the whole world was holding its breath.

You were both sitting cross-legged on his bed, half under the covers, half sprawled out with glossy brochures scattered between the pillows and across the floor. Jay was holding one upside down, dramatically squinting at it.

“Do you think they give scholarships for people who have a traumatic past?” you asked, grinning.

He scoffed. “Please. I deserve a full ride just for surviving my father.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. He retaliated by leaning in, pressing a teasing kiss to your temple, then one to your nose, and then your lips, just a light brush, slow and sweet.

“You’re distracting me,” you mumbled against his mouth.

“Mm,” he hummed, grinning. “Good.”

You rolled your eyes, about to swat his shoulder again when the door creaked open.

Both of you froze.

Jay’s mom stood at the doorway, a brochure in her hand, her expression unreadable. She cleared her throat gently. “How about this one?” she asked, her voice even.

You blinked. Jay sat up straighter. “Huh?”

She walked in and handed the brochure over, and as you took it, your fingers grazed hers. It was another local university, one that hadn’t been on either of your lists but was known and reputable. A place his father wouldn’t hate.

And then you understood.

She was helping. In her own way.

Your lips parted slightly.

Jay’s mom sat down beside you on the bed, smoothing her skirt down as she exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” she said, eyes flickering to yours. “For everything you’ve gone through these past few months. I wish you told me the truth. I wish you told me you and Jongseong were together. I would’ve fought harder for the both of you.”

Your throat tightened. You swallowed hard.

“But then again,” she continued, her voice lowering, “I was wrong. You heard what I said that day… about you not being in our world. And I was wrong for thinking that.”

She turned toward you more fully, her tone warm but earnest. “What Jong said was right. At the end of the day, we’re all just people. Status, names, connections… they shouldn’t matter. And I’m sorry I ever made you feel like they did.”

You nodded slowly, blinking through the sting in your eyes. You weren’t sure what to say, maybe because there was too much to say.

–

The sun was merciless, high above the stadium, baking the crowd in waves of heat and happiness. You were squinting into your mom’s phone camera, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jay, both of you dressed in identical deep navy cap and gowns.

Your mortarboard was already slightly crooked. Jay’s tassel kept swaying into his mouth.

“Mom,” you groaned, “that’s like the hundredth picture you’ve taken just today.”

Your mother didn’t even look up from her camera. “And?”

Mrs. Park, standing right beside her, chuckled warmly, nudging your mom like they were old best friends now which, frankly, they kind of always had been. “The two of you look so cute in your cap and gown,” she cooed. “We have to document this. For memory sake, c’mon!”

Jay groaned under his breath but smiled anyway. You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“A little kiss for the camera?” your mom added with a wink.

“Gross, Mom,” you muttered, already turning your head away.

Too late.

Jay took your chin gently and turned your face back toward him, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “I won’t say no to a free kiss,” he murmured, smug.

You shoved his chest lightly, but the laughter broke through before you could even pretend to be mad. “Ugh. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Behind you, a familiar voice cut through. “Okay, lovebirds, let’s not forget who the actual valedictorian is.”

You turned just in time to see Jungwon walking up, cap perfectly straight, robe pressed to perfection, not a single wrinkle in sight.

And then, Heeseung who was trailing behind him, in a gown that looked like it had been stuffed into a bag.

The sleeves were slightly too short, the zipper was half-stuck, and it hung off one shoulder.

“I can’t believe my parents didn’t spring for a second gown,” Heeseung said, exasperated, lifting a loose sleeve. “I’m stuck wearing my brother’s ratty one from two years ago. I found a mint in the pocket. Unwrapped, by the way. I swear to God, he’s the filthiest creature on Earth.”

Jungwon didn’t even pause. “You look stupid.”

Heeseung blinked back at Jungwon, completely deadpan. “Thank you, Jungwon. As always, a pillar of encouragement.”

Jay snorted into his sleeve. You were already wheezing, clutching your side as the two of them launched into another round of sarcastic bickering that made you question how either of them made it to graduation.

“Oh…hold on,” Heeseung suddenly perked up, biting his lip and raising a brow. “Some girls from the junior classes just showed up to congratulate me.”

You rolled your eyes. Jay muttered, “Here we go…”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Heeseung said, already straightening his sad excuse of a gown, “Won, you’re coming with.”

Jungwon blinked. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“I need a wingman. Jay’s taken, and I need someone to distract the extras while I move in on the main event.”

“Stop talking,” Jungwon said immediately.

“C’mon, please?”

“Just stop talking and I’ll go.”

“Sweet. Let’s go,” Heeseung grinned, already dragging him away.

You and Jay watched them go.

“Are we… sure he graduated?” you asked.

“Honestly?” Jay shrugged. “A miracle.”

But then, a throat cleared.

You turned, laughter freezing in your throat.

Jay’s father stood a few feet away in a crisp suit, arms crossed, sunglasses pushed up on his head. He didn’t say a word right away. Just looked at the two of you, at Jay in his cap and gown, hand intertwined with yours.

Jay’s hand stiffened slightly in yours. You looked at him and caught the faintest flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

To be fair, since the Monday Jay had placed the list of his top university applications on his father’s desk and then got into those schools, no less, there hadn’t been much conversation. Just the occasional grunt, nod, or one-word answer. It wasn’t new. Jay never expected his father to be warm. He could live without it. Had done so for most of his life.

But right now, Jay held his breath.

His father stepped forward, slow but sure, gaze unreadable. You tightened your grip on Jay’s hand without realizing it.

He stopped in front of Jay. His eyes scanned him once then paused on the crumpled gown, the slightly crooked cap, and then your intertwined hands.

“Well,” he said, voice low. “You wore the cap properly.”

Jay blinked, unsure if that was a jab or a compliment. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

And then, Jay’s father reached out.

To you.

He adjusted the tassel on your cap, gently sweeping it from the left to the right side.

“You’ve graduated too,” he said, not looking at you directly, but something in his tone softer than before. “Should wear it properly.”

You didn’t move.

Then his father stepped back. He looked at Jay for a long beat, something tight in his jaw, but his voice steadier this time.

“You did good,” he said. “Better than expected.”

That was it.

Jay’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Because those few short words, that deadpan delivery, that subtle nod was his father’s way. And Jay knew, as frustrating and emotionally constipated as it was, that was as close as he’d ever get to hearing “I’m proud of you” out loud.

Before either of you could say anything, Mr. Park had already turned away, his footsteps slow and composed as he made his way through the crowd. He nodded at your mother and Mrs. Park in passing, the gesture polite.

Then, weaving through the field, he crossed paths with Heeseung who, at that moment, was mid–peace sign, tongue out, and clearly trying to impress a group of younger girls.

Mr. Park came to a halt. Looked him up. Then down.

“Fix your collar, boy,” he said in the most unimpressed tone known to man, “You look stupid.”

Heeseung blinked. He turned to Jungwon, stunned. You and Jay were already doubled over trying not to laugh.

A minute later, Heeseung made his way back to the two of you.

“Guys,” he said, eyes wide, “who was that and why was he mean?”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, that’s… my dad.”

“Oh,” Heeseung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, he seems lovely.”

“I lowkey agree with him, though,” Jungwon added, eyeing Heeseung’s wrinkled sleeves.

“That’s because you’re an asshole,” Heeseung snapped.

You turned toward Jay, stifling your laugh behind your hand as Heeseung and Jungwon continued to bicker beside you.

Jay slipped his hand into yours giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absentmindedly, and when you glanced up, his gaze was already on you.

“Hard to believe we made it here,” he murmured.

You smiled, stepping closer until your forehead touched his. “Well… I kinda had a feeling we’d make it.”

“Weren’t you the same person who cried for two hours because you thought I was leaving?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“Still… I would’ve chosen you,” he said quietly, just for you. “Even if it meant packing up and leaving with nothing but you.”

You leaned in, kissed him gently, then pulled back just enough to speak. “Lucky for you,” you said, your smile matching his, “I came with everything we need.”

“Okay, kids! Group photo!” Mrs. Park called out, already motioning for you, Jay, Heeseung, and Jungwon to squeeze together.

You groaned playfully, but there was no use resisting. Jay laced his fingers with yours and tugged you forward, Heeseung fixed his borrowed gown while Jungwon rolled his eyes and tried to smooth his already-perfect one.

“Closer!” your mom called, squinting at the screen. “Act like you like each other!”

Heeseung threw an arm over Jay’s shoulder. “That’s a big ask.”

“Oh, as if you’re any better.” Jungwon scoffed, flicking Heeseung’s forehead.

“Smile!” Mrs. Park added, then laughed. “Okay, last one and then we’ll go for dinner!”

The four of you leaned in, grinning wide for the camera. Jay’s hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, close and quick, pressing a kiss to your cheek just as the shutter clicked.

You squeaked in surprise, eyes wide, but the warmth on your face gave you away instantly.

“Now that’s burned into our graduation photo. Great,” Jungwon groaned.

“Unless… you want all of us to kiss you too?” Heeseung suggested, wiggling his brows.

Jungwon blinked. “No. I don’t really… I don’t want that.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, already leaning in.

“Let’s do it,” Jay said, grinning.

Before Jungwon could escape, the three of you planted a kiss on his cheeks all at once.

“I’VE GOT COOTIES NOW!”

816 notes · View notes