junplusone

[junplusone]

wow this is so beautiful and so very minghao 🥺🥰

caught in bloom, caught on you | xu minghao

SYNOPSIS. in which you find yourself becoming a regular𑁋or perhaps more than that𑁋at minghao's flower shop. PAIRING. florist!xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, a pinch of angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers WARNINGS. hao basically falls in love at first sight HAHA, mild cursing, implied that yn lost someone close to them, a lot of yearning n pining, kissing WORD COUNT. 8.3k

notes: wheeboo is NOT in their short-ish fic era anymore and is in their long-ish fic era rn 😭 anyway,, i didnt have a title for the fic until hao posted his song on his birthday so... I hope u all enjoy?? this might be one of my faves haha

Minghao likes these kinds of days.

Thin, irregular shapes of cotton drift lazily across the endless blue embrace of the skies. The afternoon sun carries warmth in its hands that he could feel right through the glass windows of his flower shop. It's almost as if the season of summer itself is breathing through his shop, softly encouraging his little garden to reach for the light.

Minghao runs his slender fingers through the cool edges of a hydrangea, its soft petals a deep shade of prismarine.

Ever since he was younger, his mother had told him that flowers weren't just things to be cared for. They were companions, your friends if you'd let them be, each blooming with all different kinds of personalities.

He likes how the flowers didn't ask for much; they simply needed patience and care, and in return, they gave him a sense of peace that he couldn't find anywhere else.

The sudden chime of the bell pulls him from his thoughts. He straightens up, wiping his hands on the apron tied loosely around his waist, and glances toward the door.

The figure the walks through the door is unfamiliar, yet it's easy to catch the way the sunlight highlights the edges of your silhouette, almost like a halo as you step inside the shop. For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.

Your gaze circles around the shop, taking in the rows of flowers with a soft curiosity. There's some sort of quiet hesitation in your movements when you take a few more tentative steps inside, as if you're trying to find the right place to be in this space, just as much as you're trying to find the right flower.

Minghao finds himself clearing his throat, drawing a polite smile across his lips and catching your attention right away.

"Good afternoon," he greets calmly. "Can I help you with something today?"

You glance up at him, a slight surprise in your eyes before they soften.

"Hi, um... Yeah, I was actually looking to see if I could buy some flowers. The shop I went to before closed down, so I've been searching for a new place. It was a bit of a drive." Then you hesitate briefly, before continuing, "I'm not sure what to look for exactly, but something for a first date would be nice."

Minghao's heart stirs a bit disappointingly at that, though he quickly suppresses the feeling away. After all, it's just flowers, and you're simply here to buy them for someone else.

He nods thoughtfully, giving a soft, understanding look.

"Ah, well. Congratulations first of all on the date," he says calmly, though the nerves itches his fingers. "A first date is always special, isn't it?"

"They are," You reply sheepishly, and the hint of a blush to your cheeks nearly resembles the colour of the roses displayed near the window.

"Is there a specific kind of vibe you're going for?" Minghao asks. "I can help you pick something that feels right."

You pause for a moment, eyes lingering on a beautifully-painted vase. "Hmm, I think... something romantic, but not too traditional, if that makes sense? Not something too cliché, you know, but I also want it to feel special."

Minghao simply hums in response, his mind sifting through the variety of options he could think of. There's this odd sense of responsibility within him to make your choice is beyond perfect.

"Roses are always a classic," he begins. "but they're quite conventional, so..."

He can sense you following closely to him as he walks toward another part of the shop.

"These are tulips," Minghao explains, gesturing to a row of soft, voluminous blooms in shades of pale pink and coral. "They're not commonly picked like roses, but there's a nice charm about it. They're meant to represent long-lasting love."

You take a good look of the flowers, and you're amazed by how bright they appear.

"Wow, they're so beautiful." Then you take a small glance up at Minghao, before back down at the flowers. "You must really take care of these flowers to make them look this vibrant."

"I try my best," he mutters quietly, watching as you continue to take in their beauty. "Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."

Your eyes flicker back up at him, and for a moment, there's a quiet stillness between you, as if the space between you two is holding its breath. Then you let out a warm, somewhat nervous chuckle.

"I think I understand," You say, taking a step closer towards the tulips  and carefully running a finger over its petals. "It's about giving them space to grow, right? Not forcing them to be something they're not."

There's something about the way you speak, something thoughtful, almost as if you also understand the language of patience he's grown so accustomed to.

"Exactly." He smiles faintly. "That's what I like about flowers𑁋they don't rush. They just exist, and somehow, they slowly become what they're meant to be."

You lift your gaze to meet his, and in your eyes, Minghao sees something more than just curiosity. There's a softness there, a sincerity that draws him in. At his sides, he feels his fingers twitch slightly, but he quickly smooths his hands down his apron.

It's strange how a simple conversation about flowers can make him feel so... connected to someone.

"I think these are perfect," You tell him, eyes brightening with confidence.

A wave of satisfaction washes over Minghao, who nods in agreement.

"Would you like me to wrap them up for you?" he asks.

"That would be great, thank you," You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now. The thought makes his heart flutter.

Minghao begins to wrap the delicate stems with some brown wrapping paper, carefully arranging them so they're secure. As he ties a ribbon around the bouquet, he can't help but sneak up a glance at you. You're wandering around the shop with your hands clasped in front of you, looking at the other arrangements on display, and he smiles to himself.

He finishes the bouquet and smooths out any remaining creases with his fingertips. When you make your way back over to him, he offers it to you.

"Do you want to write your name on a gift tag?" Minghao asks, holding up a small card and a pen. He doesn’t know why his heart's beating faster𑁋perhaps it's the subtle hopefulness in his voice that will make your name linger longer, even after you leave.

You glance at the pen in his hand, considering it for a moment before nodding.

"Sure, I'd love to," You tell him with a faint smile, snatching the pen from his grasp, giving it a quick click before writing something down, the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.

When you finish, you hand the card back to him. He takes it from you carefully, inspecting your neat, intricate handwriting. It's simple, yet there's a certain elegance to it it. Minghao reads it under his breath: For someone special, who I hope feels the same - Y/N.

Y/N, he repeats in his mind.

"I'll finish it up for you now," he says, placing the card with the bouquet. He arranges the flowers once more, making sure everything is perfect before handing it to you.

You find yourself fishing into your bag for your wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

Minghao hesitates for a moment, his fingers hovering over the register, but there's something about the way your features soften and how your eyes meet his that makes him pause.

"It's on the house."

You stop your hands, peering back up at him with a surprised look. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Of course," he assures calmly. "It's the least I can do."

You just blink at him a few times, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.

"Thank you," You let out sheepishly as you take the bouquet in your hands, the ribbon slipping through your fingers as you carefully adjust it. There's a split second that passes where you sneak a glance at the nametag on his chest. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure they'll love them."

Something in his chest tightens at that𑁋they'll love them. Minghao tries not to overthink it, tries to ignore the brief twinge of something unsettling in his chest.

But you're smiling, so he smiles back.

"I hope so," he replies gently, and with a polite bow of his head, he adds, "I'm sure they'll appreciate the thought behind it."

As you walk towards the exit, you take a final look around the shop, eyes lingering on the shelves of flowers, before turning back to Minghao.

"I'll be sure to come back," You say brightly, and the way the afternoon sunlight pours down all around you in the doorway makes you appear almost angelic. "Thank you for everything."

"I'll be here," Minghao responds, offering a small, timid wave of his hand. "Take care."

The chime of the bell above the door announces your departure, and a sigh leaves him.

It's just flowers, he tells himself again. Just flowers.

And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.

Minghao finds himself wiping away some spilled soil on the counter, the soft hum of piano music drifting throughout the quiet flower shop. He had just gotten done cleaning up after a busy morning of rearranging a few displays around the shop to tie into the slow seasonal changes that were beginning to take shape outside.

The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with. Chrysanthemums, petunias, dahlias, and marigolds were beginning to make their way into the shop, taking their place next to the peonies and roses that had been so meticulously cared for.

When the last bits of soil are wiped away, Minghao steps back to admire the beauty of the shop around him, he takes in a deep inhale, letting in the earthy scent of the fresh blooms fill his lungs.

After storing away a few extra vases in the backroom, the chime of the door hits his ears, and Minghao finds himself straightening back up to greet whoever had come inside.

When looks up, however, he freezes for a moment. He catches you standing in the doorway, and Minghao has to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him.

"Hi, again," You're the first to greet this time, and then that grin spreads across your face once again, one that seems all-too familiar.

Minghao leans against the counter. "Back so soon?"

"I was just in the area, couldn't help myself, you know..." You drawl with a playful shrug. "I actually just officially moved into the city just last week, hopefully to be closer for this new job and well... The drive here isn't as long as before."

Minghao smiles softly. It's an unexpected but pleasant surprise for you to admit all that to him, and for some reason, it makes him feel a little lighter.

"That's great," he responds, pushing himself off the counter as he straightens up. "I imagine that must be a relief. How do you like it so far?"

You step further into the shop, your eyes eagerly scanning the new arrangements he's set up.

"It's been great, actually," You say with a relieved look. "Life has been... good, honestly. I think the city suits me. It's different, but in a positive way, and I'm already surrounded by a lot of nice people."

This warm and genuine feeling tugs at Minghao's lips as he listens to you, adjusting the stems of a vase full of a plethora of zinnias.

"I'm assuming that date from before went well then?"

His words makes the smile on your face flicker, and the change is subtle but noticeable enough for Minghao to catch it, even when he's not directly looking at you. You shift your weight between your two feet, and the way you glance around the shop seems almost like you're trying to distract yourself from something.

"The date didn't go well at all, actually."

Minghao's fingertips pause on the cold surface of the vase, brows furrowing in a bit of surprise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologises gently, regretting for the sudden change in mood. "I didn't mean to bring up anything uncomfortable."

You let out a small, rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no, it's okay. Really."

The air seems to thicken a little. You could only stand and watch for a few long moments as Minghao moves gracefully around, tending to all the flowers with his usual care.

After a long pause, you finally break the silence.

"It was good at first, I think, then it just became... awkward. Like really awkward. I thought I had everything planned out𑁋good place, nice flowers, all that jazz... but I guess it just didn't click. I think we both kind of felt it." You feel your shoulders deflate in a pit of defeat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you run a hand through your hair. "I don't know why I just rambled all that. Sorry about that."

Minghao doesn't say anything at first, simply giving you some space, but he feels his heart tighten in his chest. He casts his eyes on you, also unsure why you're telling him this or why it feels important to him, but he knows it's a moment of vulnerability𑁋a rare one𑁋and he wants to handle it with care.

"No need to say sorry," he reaffirms, tone soothing. "Sometimes things don't go as expected, and that's okay. It doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful."

You glance towards him, catching the sincerity dripping down from his words. It catches you by surprise at how almost... comfortable it feels to be open right now, with him. The atmosphere here doesn't demand anything of you.

"As people, we try so hard to make things go right that we forget to just... let them unfold naturally," he says softly, as if thinking aloud. "I think sometimes things don't work out because we're not ready for them yet, or maybe they're not the right kind of flower at the right time. You can spend so much time trying to arrange them, placing them in the perfect spot, hoping they'll just fit… but sometimes they don't. And that's okay."

You can't help but quirk a playful lip at that, but you can't resist the way his words appear to tug right at your heartstrings. "Are you comparing me to a flower?"

"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."

The thought about being a flower𑁋in another life, perhaps𑁋is a bit silly. But you also wonder about other things too𑁋if you're being treated with the same care and attention that Minghao gives to his flowers, or if you're wilting like one that hasn't found the right light yet. And as you gaze around the shop, taking in the beauty of the blooms around you, you find yourself smiling.

"I think I'd like to try and take care of a flower," You announce, determination weaving around your voice and words. "I'm not sure if I'd be good at it, but I'd like to try."

Minghao crosses his arms together, letting out a thoughtful hum while studying you for a few seconds. "I think you'd do well."

For some reason, those few words were enough to send heat crawling up your body and into your face.

"Thank you," You breathe out sheepishly, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "Can you give me a few recommendations?"

Minghao just nods. "Sure."

From there, he leads you toward a small display near the front of the shop where a few different pots and seedlings are carefully arranged. He describes a few of them to you. You're immediately drawn to the passion dripping from his tone, and the way he appears to light up when he speaks.

"These might be a good start," he suggests, gesturing to a small seedling. "Marigolds are pretty low maintenance. They need light, of course, but they're easy to grow and care for."

You take a moment to study over the baby plant with sweet curiosity.

"I think I'll start with these, then," You say, glancing back at Minghao. "Something easy."

Minghao's eyes don't stray away from how you admire the tiny plant, how you cradle the pot in your hands to take a closer look at it as if you're already imagining yourself taking care of it.

"Taking care of them can be a good reminder to take care of yourself too," he points out. "They need patience, consistency… and a little bit of trust, just like people do."

You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips once more, feeling something warm bloom in your chest. His words settle into you in a way that's hard to describe, but they feel right𑁋like they're exactly what you need to hear.

"That's true," You reply, the weight of the sentiment settling comfortably within you. "I guess I could use a reminder like that."

"Shall I wrap it up for you?" he offers.

"Yes, please. Thank you."

After mulling over some options, he chooses the perfect wrapping paper and adds a small note about caring for marigolds. You watch him, mesmerised by the ease in his movements, the care he pours into something so simple. For a moment, you forget about all the bustling noise outside the shop, and all that exists is Minghao and the flowers, his flowers.

As Minghao ties the final knot around the marigold pot, he hands it to you, and his fingertips briefly brush against yours.

"Thank you," You tell him softly. "For everything, really. It's very calming in here."

Minghao's smile widens, almost like he's heard those same words before, and perhaps he has; maybe many people find themselves drawn to his calm presence and the haven he's created in this little shop.

There's a strange warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you cradle the small plant in your hands. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."

A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you both stand there, your eyes drifting around the shop to take in the palette of autumn that colours the space. Yet it's almost instinctive in the way your gaze finds Minghao.

"I hope you won't mind me coming back, you know... to make sure I'm doing a good job with this little one." You gesture to the plant in your hands, a playful tone to your words.

Minghao chuckles, a sound as gentle as the petals surrounding him. "Of course. I'll be here."

"Do you mind if I take another look around with the place? It looks great, by the way."

"Take all the time you need."

And for the first time in a long while, Minghao felt like he wasn't just waiting for the next flower to bloom.

He was blooming, too.

"Do you have a favourite flower?"

The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders while he waters a cluster of orchids in the back corner of the shop. You're hovering near him, aimlessly trudging your fingertips over, but instead lets the question settle in between the quiet moments.

"I imagine it's hard to pick as a florist, right?" You let out a meek laugh. "It's kind of like asking a painter to pick their favourite colour."

The corners of Minghao's lips curl up slightly, his eyes fixed on the glistening leaves under the faint droplets of water. You can tell he's contemplating the question from the quiet hums leaving his mouth, and for some reason, you find comfort in his patience.

"Not exactly," he says after a pause, his voice steady, thoughtful. "A painter might have a favourite colour, but they don't use it all the time. It's about balance. Knowing when to bring it forward and when to hold it back."

"Ah, so you do have a favourite flower," You tease lightly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "You just don't want to admit it."

The brief touch seems to linger in the air, a soft warmth that you both let pass without acknowledging. Minghao gently sets the watering can down and looks at you for a moment, his gaze a little deeper than before.

"In China, we have a lot of flowers that hold meaning," Minghao continues. "It's hard to pick one specifically, but... I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."

You tilt your head as you take in his words. You already knew yourself that you didn't know much about flowers, but there's a certain curiosity that washes over you from how Minghao speaks so fondly about them. Even something as simple as a flower has layers of meaning for him.

"That's really beautiful, I..." You trail off, trying to find the right words. "I've always looked at things really surface-level, you know, like I've always found daisies beautiful because they're so simple and bright, but I never really thought much about their deeper meanings. It's kind of like... I never thought about why I liked them. It's just easy to see them and appreciate them, I guess."

Minghao blinks at you, before lowering his gaze down to the floor. "Daisies suit you."

You turn to him, dazed. "Really?"

Minghao takes a contemplative pause. "Well, they're not only... beautiful to look at, but they brighten up any space they're in."

You feel your feet seep into the floor, sinking deeper as your cheeks warm, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were standing next to him. And it's the way he acts like he didn't fucking say anything out of the ordinary almost makes you lose it.

"Are you flirting with me right now?"

However, Minghao doesn't seem fazed by the question. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then a few seconds later, your phone rings.

Minghao just offers you a little wave of his soil-painted hand. "Have fun at work, Y/N."

"Minghao! Can you teach me how to wrap these flowers?"

Minghao casts his attention up from displaying a new set of hyacinths, catching you behind the counter with a bouquet in your hands, along with a small old lady on the other side with a cheerful grin.

There's a subtle tug at the corners of his mouth when he hears you holler for him again, and he brushes his hands against his apron, before marching his way toward you. He steps up to you, taking the flowers from your hand while you beam happily towards the old lady.

"What's the occasion for the flowers, ma'am?" You ask curiously. Th elderly woman lets out a soft laugh, resting her wrinkled hands on the counter.

"It's for my grandson! He's graduating from high school today. Time flies by, doesn't it?"

"Wow, that's such a milestone! Congratulations to him," You exclaim enthusiastically, softly clapping your hands together as Minghao deftly arranges the flowers within the wrapping paper, before sliding it over to you.

He leans in a bit more, almost too close you feel the way his arm brushes against yours and the way his breath fans against your skin.

"Fold the edges like this," Minghao instructs softly, his hands hovering right over yours. "Make sure the paper covers the stems. Too much pressure could break them; too loose could make them fall apart."

You watch as his hands follow yours while you nervously, yet carefully trace the frail edge of the paper, showing you how to make each fold with a care that's almost tender. His close proximity sends strange flutters to your stomach, but you do your best to ignore it.

"Okay, like this?" You question, pulling the paper slightly tighter around the bouquet.

Minghao hums approvingly, letting you hold the flowers while he circles a ribbon around it with ease. His hands brush against yours as he neatly ties it, and the two of you pull back to watch how it delicately falls over the bouquet.

The old lady glances between the two of you with a knowing smile.

"The two of you make such a cute couple! Do you run the shop together?"

You feel your face fire up at that, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Then you instinctively glance over at Minghao, who surprisingly doesn't seem as flustered as you are.

"Oh, um, we're not𑁋"

"They like to help out here once in a while," Minghao adds in smoothly, though you aren't sure if that entirely helps or not. However you know what he's saying is true, because whenever your break for work comes or on your free time, you find yourself naturally walking towards the flower shop to help out at times.

The lady just beams up even more, scooping up the bouquet in her grasp. "Well, it's nice to see young faces working together! You two sure do have a lot of chemistry."

You offer a wave of your hand. "I hope your grandson enjoys the flowers. Congratulations to him once again!"

With that, the old woman offers a small wink before turning to head out of the shop. "Thank you, dear! Take care, both of you." Her delighted steps echo off the walls as she exits the shop.

The shop grows quiet again. You let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles as you turn to Minghao, who was already wiping over the surface of the counter, making quick work of putting things back in order, and for some reason, it still doesn't wipe away the pit of awkwardness you're feeling. You wonder if he feels the same too.

"So," Minghao starts, still continuing to clean without batting a glance at you. "You're taking over my shop, it seems."

You let out a haughty scoff. "I just wanted to try wrapping some flowers for someone. Don't let it get to your head."

Minghao only chuckles lightly, though he keeps his focus on the counter, yet you could only focus on him. You can't help but admire the way his hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, the slight endearing tilt of his head as he works, and how his movements are so meticulously unique to only him. There's a certain aura he exudes that makes you feel strangely at peace, a magic that only seems to reside within the walls of the shop.

"Why didn't you say no?" You suddenly ask, the question slipping out before you could shut your mouth.

Minghao pauses mid-swipe, looking back up at you. "Say no to what?"

"To, uh... the lady back there," You stammer, feeling the heat creep back at your neck. "About us, you know... being a couple."

Minghao remains silent as he tosses the dirty wipe away. For a moment, he seems to be contemplating something𑁋whether the question, the idea, or something more.

Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"

Your mind goes completely blank at his question. Does it bother you? The simple truth is that you didn't expect him to answer so casually. You were expecting him to probably correct her humbly, in all honesty. After all, it was just a passing comment from a lady who didn't mean any harm behind it.

But... does it bother you?

"No, it... it doesn't bother me. Really," You respond after a pause, voice coming out a bit forced. Your heart is beating super fast right now. "I guess I just didn't expect you to go along with it since we're not𑁋"

"𑁋not a couple," Minghao finishes for you. "I know."

You feel like you're melting into a pile of goo, your thoughts scattering like ants running out of their pile.

"I'm sorry, I'm overthinking," You mumble out, trying to brush everything off with an airy laugh.

Minghao shakes his head. "I should be sorry. I made you uncomfortable."

"You-You didn't, trust me!" You wave your hands dismissively, albeit a bit dramatic. "I was just caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond."

This seems to relax Minghao's shoulders a bit, but not entirely.

"Okay," he says, and his voice is as light as a  wisp getting caught in the wind. "But you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, right?"

You give him an easy nod, maybe even confident. "I would. I promise. And you'd... tell me too?"

Minghao meets your eyes with a steady gaze, his expression soft but thoughtful. For a moment, there's a subtle shift in the air, and you can feel the weight of his words before he speaks again.

"Yeah," he answers firmly, sincerely. "I would."

When you open your mouth to speak again, your phone dings in your pocket. You squint your eyes to read over the message in your notifications, before closing up your phone.

"My meeting got cancelled." Then you blink up towards Minghao, as if trying to convey an unspoken question to him.

As if the answer wasn't already obvious, Minghao gives you a small, almost teasing smile.

"I don't mind the company," he tells you, then quirks up a brow. "Unless you do."

"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."

Flowers bloom when the time is right. And you don't mind waiting for it.

When a flower dies, there's a certain routine that comes after it. Trim away the wilted petals, dispose of the stems, recycle them as compost, and plant the next set of blooms.

Minghao hates seeing flowers die.

The sound of crumbling petals tie a knot in his chest, the stillness that follows afterwards is almost deafening. But he knows it's an inevitable part of life. Every flower has its chance to bloom and thrive, and eventually, it will fade.

The flowers don't belong to him, after all𑁋they are simply passing through his care briefly before going to someone else or withering away, like everything else in life. Minghao knows it's unnecessary to hold onto these flowers so tightly, but after being surrounded by them his entire life, it's merely impossible to let go.

The bell chimes as he's composting a few camellias that had sadly wilted, and he gazes up to find a gust of snow following your footsteps as you step inside. A large, black fluffy coat hugs your body and a scarf is wrapped snugly around your neck. However this time, Minghao doesn't notice any ounce of a smile to your face.

He sets the compost bin down and wipes his hands on his apron.

"Y/N?"

There's a very subtle twitch to your expression when he calls out your name.

"Hey," You croak out, voice a bit strained. "Um... is it fine if I buy some flowers?"

Minghao feels something in his chest clench at your tone, but he pushes the feeling away with his usual calm composure, masking away any concern simmering on the surface.

"Sure," he replies, focusing on the shadows that plague over your features. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

Your eyes drift away from to look around the flower shop, taking note of the bright, usual blooms that surround you, yet none of them appear are what you're looking for.

"Do you have, um..." You feel like you're already going to regret this. "...anything for a funeral?"

The words float in the air between you both. Minghao's expression falters for just a moment, the calmness that he usually carries slipping as his eyes soften toward you.

"Of course," he says softly. "I have a few options."

With that, he leads you to a particular spot in the shop, where it houses all sorts of flowers with muted colours𑁋white roses and lilies, pale chrysanthemums, and pink and purple orchids all arranged neatly. Minghao watches as you gaze over each flower, but he doesn't speak yet, simply allowing you the moment to breathe.

"These are the traditional flowers for a funeral," he explains finally. "White roses for remembrance, lilies for peace, chrysanthemums for mourning, and orchids for everlasting love."

Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.

It's bit a different when it's you though, and he doesn't exactly know how to explain it.

You plod slowly throughout the display, picking up a stem here and there, but each time, you set it back down as if it didn't feel right. But when you come across the orchids, you linger a little longer on them, tenderly caressing the petals as if you were scared to break them.

"I think I'll choose these ones. The orchids," You murmur, picking up a few stems and showing it to him.

Minghao just nods, taking the ones from your hands and grabbing a few more to finish the rest of the bouquet, moving with careful precision.

"I'll handle the rest, don't worry," he assures you as he gracefully works to arrange the orchids.

None of you choose to say anything more, only letting the diffident silence stretch. For some reason, the shop feels a little more cooler, the air heavier than usual. The only sound is the rustling of Minghao's hands moving carefully over the flowers, the quiet snap of a stem as he trims it with his shears. Outside, the snow continues to fall.

Minghao doesn't press for any details, yet even in the quiet, you have a feeling that he knows. Maybe that's why he's just letting his hands speak for him.

"Here you go." He offers you a neat bouquet of pale lavender orchids.

You step up to him to retrieve it from his grasp, bringing it close to your chest. "Thank you."

Minghao knows he shouldn't let his feelings get in the way, but as he takes note of the slight glassiness to your eyes and small tremble of your hands holding the bouquet, he isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in. He feels guilty when he lets his eyes drift down to your lips for a second, before averting it back up quickly.

The smile you give him is nothing short of fragile, faint, but it's there. And then, with a sudden leap, you find yourself leaning into Minghao's embrace without thinking, wrapping your arms around his body as if he was the only thing in the world that was preventing you from falling down. And in a way, he is.

His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.

You don't cry𑁋not entirely. A single tear slips past your lashes, landing silently against his shoulder. He feels it, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, and just lets you... be.

"I'm sorry," You mumble into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to𑁋"

"Don't be," Minghao interrupts softly. "It's okay."

You pull away for a moment to look up at him. He's still holding you. His hands have fallen down to your sides, resting there as if he's held you like this before. The way you're looking at him has Minghao nearly forgetting how to breathe; it nearly urges to him to lean down and close the distance between the two of you.

His gaze lingers on your lips, and for a split second, Minghao almost allows himself to follow the instinct to lean in.

But then he stops himself.

He's not sure what this is, what the right thing to do is. His thoughts are tangled mess of roots𑁋he's always been careful with holding himself back, with promising to wait, yet something about the way you look at him makes it feel like the only right thing to do is to give in.

But he can't. Not yet. Not when you're so fragile and baring yourself raw to him.

Yet he sees the way your eyes flutter at him, the way a crease of question forms in between your brows as if you're also unsure of what this moment is, but there's a longing there too. It's almost pleading. And you lean in a little more towards him.

"Y/N," he breathes out your name, and it's the first time you ever heard his voice shake like that. "We... We shouldn't."

You don't say anything at first, your eyes searching his face like you're trying to read something. You open your mouth, close it, and then, with a slight exhale, you step back, only a little, but enough to let the cool air seep in between you.

"I'm sorry, I..." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, letting out a sniffle. "Fuck, I'm sorry..."

Minghao feels his chest tighten. "It's okay𑁋"

"I-I just wanted to feel something for a moment, you know? Everything is such a mess right now and the first person I thought of was you, because I like... the way you make me feel. I like it way more than I should. And that... that it's okay if you don't feel that way too."

Minghao's heart stutters at that, and perhaps the world even pauses too. All words that want to leave him become stuck in his throat, because he knows deep down𑁋from as far back as the moment you walked into the flower shop𑁋that he's felt the same way for far too long.

So, he settles with taking one hand from your side and slowly reaching up to trace your warm cheek with his thumb, his touch delicate as if he's afraid he might cause your petals to fall down. He brushes away a lingering tear that had been drying up on your skin and lets his hand stay there.

"You... deserve way more than just comfort in a moment like this," Minghao starts quietly. "But you're grieving right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want to just be someone who's here for a moment, because... you mean so much to me more than that."

Your lips form into a tight, thin line, and you flicker your gaze towards the floor, the heaviness in the air still weighing down on your shoulders.

"Minghao..."

"And if I act on what I feel, it wouldn't be fair to you," Minghao continues, voice trembling slightly as he speaks. "I want it to be because you know what you want. And if you ever give me that chance, I promise I'll be here for you. Not just now, not just in this moment, but... for everything. When you're ready; when you're healed; when it feels right, I'll be here𑁋I always have been."

There's a lump in your throat that you swallow down. For a while, you could only simply stand there, feeling as if you're teetering on the edge of something you can't quite reach. But even as you stand in this stillness, there's something in his words that echoes off the walls of your mind𑁋it's understanding, and it's care, and it feels like a promise.

"I... I know. I just... I'm sorry for putting all this on you. I think I need space to... heal and think." Then you look back up at him, wonder tainting your features. "Will you wait for me?"

The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning.

"I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."

The chuckle that leaves you isn't forced; in fact, it's quite relieving. It feels like the start of something, and Minghao feels a flicker of hope at the sound.

You reluctantly separate yourself away from him, cradling the bouquet of orchids to your chest, and let out an exhale you hardly realise you were holding in.

"I'll be okay, you know," You tell him, even if it's a bit of lie, or half the truth. You can't tell which.

Minghao glances down to your hands, as if you're holding a piece of your heart wrapped up within the petals, before back up to your eyes.

"I know," is all he says.

The world doesn't stop for grief, but it's okay to pause for a little while.

Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.

You haven't stepped foot in the flower shop in a while. At least, not as often as you used to come.

The absence is especially daunting, and Minghao can't help but feel it every time the bell chimes and it isn't you that walks through the door. On rare occasion you'd swing by to say hello during your breaks at work and sometimes, a pretty, shy smile from you before you disappear back into the world outside.

It's strange how easily your presence had come to be a part of the rhythm of his days. He used to wonder how someone like you would be drawn to the boring stillness of a flower shop. But now the place feels more emptier than before you came into his life, the petals around him somehow less vibrant, the air colder, even when the sun streams through the windows.

He tries not to dwell on it, but he can't help the nagging feeling that maybe you've drifted away, maybe things have changed. Maybe he was just a moment for you. And now, that moment has passed.

So he simply spends his days in the shop, moving between shelves of blossoms and arranging bouquets, but his thoughts always return to you. To the quiet moments when your voice would fill the space between the flowers, to the way you cared and tended the blooms even when you had no reason to.

It makes him think that if flowers could speak for us, then what might they say about you? Would they say you were someone who saw beauty in the smallest things? Minghao often found himself wishing that flowers could speak just so he can hear what they would say about you.

But flowers don't speak, of course. They just bloom and stretch toward the light, growing in places where they are tended to, and even in those that have been forgotten.

Maybe that's what Minghao was𑁋a forgotten flower of his own waiting to be seen, to be noticed.

Luckily, he was able to distract himself a bit today with a few deliveries for a couple of upcoming weddings and a new arrangement for the store he was preparing to do in the next few days, along with piles of orders for days. But it still wasn't enough.

As he flips the sign on the window to display Closed, he fumbles for his keys to lock the door. However, the sound of the bell rings through the shop, stopping him mid-motion. Minghao lifts a brow up, not expecting for anyone to show up right as he's about to close up.

And when he looks up, he freezes.

"I'm not late, aren't I?"

It's you.

The way your voice comes out all shaky like you're out of breath, yet soft has Minghao feeling as if he's sinking into quicksand. The sight of you standing at the doorway is a dream he never dares to wake up from.

"You're not," Minghao manages to say, somehow. "You're just in time."

Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click. You take in the familiar, fresh scent of all the blooms and greenery around you, and it hits you in the heart just how much you've missed this place.

"I had, uh… a late shift at work," You explain unsurely. "so I thought about stopping by, but I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."

Minghao just shakes his head, watching as you brush your fingertips over some lilies and baby's breaths that were displayed on a small table near the window. Gosh, he'd do anything to flat out say how much he missed you, how much he'd been thinking about you, but he doesn't.

"Have you been busy?" You ask him.

"A little," he responds. "but manageable, I would say."

"Ah… that's good," You mumble, voice trailing off as you start to make your way in his direction, catching eye on a particular bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. "No-show again?"

Minghao lets out a sigh, and he feels you following behind as he walks towards the counter. He picks up the bouquet in his hand, letting his gaze fall over it.

"Mhm," he hums. "But it's alright, really. Happens more often than you think."

You quirk a brow as your eyes roam over the bouquet, and a particular, almost knowing look stretches across your lips.

"That's funny," You huff, taking the bouquet from his grasp. It held a colourful variety of hydrangeas. "It looks a lot like an order I placed a few days ago."

Minghao's heart skips a beat as he watches you carefully examine the bouquet, his breath caught in his throat.

"This… was yours?" he questions in surprise.

"Yeah, I…" You bite your lips sheepishly. "It was sort of an impulsive thing, I guess."

Minghao only continues to watch as you admire the bouquet, caressing over the delicate wrapping paper and the all-too familiar bow that he would tie all of his other arrangements.

"Impulsive, huh?" Minghao teases lightly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, you certainly picked a good one."

You look up at him, a small, tentative smile forming on your face. "I guess I just wanted to get something special. For someone."

Minghao feels his heart sink at that, a flutter of hope and uncertainty colliding in his chest. Someone.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught in his throat, unsure if it's his place to ask, or if he even wants to hear the answer.

"I see," he says instead, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though there's a hint of sadness to his voice that he silently hopes you don't notice.

You take note of his unreadable expression, over the way his eyes appear downcast and a subtle tension to his posture.

However, this doesn't make you stop from gripping the bouquet tighter in your grasp, and then in the next moment, you're stepping closer and offering it over to him.

"I hope you like them," You state, holding out the bouquet thing as if was the most natural thing in the world.

Minghao glances at the bouquet quizzically, the same one he had just been holding, then back at you. His face shifts between a million different expressions𑁋confusion, surprise, hope, and everything in between𑁋before the tension in his chest eases just slightly as he finally registers what you're doing.

He's a florist, for crying out loud. He's usually the one to be giving flowers to people. Never in his years of practically living in the shop has anyone offered flowers to him. The gesture is practically foreign, yet in this moment, it feels so right.

His fingers graze against yours as he hesitantly takes it from your hands, but you don’t fully let go. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading between you as you gently press your palm against his. His heart is beating in his throat, in his ears, everywhere in his body, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

"I missed you," You declare softly, yet a pinch of urgency behind your words. "I missed you so fucking much."

His chest tightens, and it's as if the weight of everything crushes him in the best possible way. All the time he had spent wondering if you had forgotten about him, if maybe you had moved on, it all melts away in an instant. Because you're here. And you're saying everything he's been craving to hear.

And gosh, does he want to kiss you right now.

This time, Minghao doesn't waste a second. He brings a hand up to cradle the side of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. It's perhaps a bit desperate first, making him swallow down a faint sigh you let out but it quickly settles into something softer, deeper, like two people who've been waiting for this moment for far too long.

He can feel the slight tremble in your breath as your lips move against his, and he pulls back slightly, just to make sure you were still with him.

Minghao lets his thumb lightly caress over your cheek as if trying to memorise the feeling of your skin under his touch, as if he'd been starved for this closeness.

"I missed you too," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. "The flowers did too."

A light, airy chuckle escapes from you. "Oh, did they?"

"Of course," Minghao murmurs, his lips curling upwards against your skin. "They've been waiting for you to come back."

"Well, I better not keep them waiting anymore then, right?" You jest playfully, leaning in back once again.

Minghao doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. "Nope," he says firmly against your mouth. "I think they've waited long enough."

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[junplusone]

The Maestro The Dinner

word count -2k words pairings - seventeen ot13 x fem!oc genre - mature, dark romance, cultish/yandere, mystery , crack

chapter warnings - none

author's notes - Hey darlings! Sorry for the short chapter! I just want to clarify something regarding my story. In this setting, Joshua is not a Christian. Please understand that the characters in my story are not affiliated with their real-life counterparts. Additionally, I apologize for the infrequent updates. Similar to 1117, The Maestro might be updated on a monthly basis. I'm currently studying and cannot write as quickly as I'd like. Thank you for all your support and encouragement. I'll do my best to keep writing.

thank you @sousydive for beta reading!

network: @mansaenetwork

Back to Masterlist?

Dear Residents of the Maestro,

I am writing to express my sincere gratitude for your recent letter. I am pleased to inform you that, thanks to your support, my child was born safely. Although I am no longer directly involved with the Maestro, I remain my commitment.

Yours faithfully,

Kang [REDACTED]

Dinner was fairly awkward.

Wonwoo took the empty seat next to me after carrying out the first dish. I noticed a familiar silver ring on his pinkie and furrowed my brows, trying to remember where I had seen it before. It wasn’t until Junhui passed me a napkin that I realised everyone at the table, except for me, was wearing the same silver ring.

Welcome to the family. I've been hearing this phrase a lot. Joshua, Soonyoung, and Jihoon have all said it. I don't know why, but it just feels… wrong.

“Is everyone here?” Seungcheol’s voice cut through the chattering as everyone stopped and looked at him. “Alright. Let's start.”

Joshua hummed, standing up. I looked around to see everyone else putting their hands together, their eyes closed. Hesitating, I followed their lead, putting my own palms together as I looked at Joshua.

“To his Lord,” Joshua started, his voice soft and calm. “We thank you for the meal you bestow upon us. We thank you for lighting our paths when we need it, and guiding us through the journey of suffering and pain. We thank you for allowing us to live, free of sickness and pain. Praise his Lord.”

I watched as his prayers were echoed by everyone at the table. My mouth felt dry, and I hesitated, unsure if I should join in. The words felt foreign on my tongue, and I fumbled through them softly, feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over me. When we were done, Joshua nodded at Seungcheol before sitting back down. Conversations broke out as the clinking of utensils joined the symphony of noises. I took some of the dishes for myself, digging into them quietly.

As I cautiously finished the food in front of me, I couldn't help but wish I were hiding in my room. To my left, Wonwoo sipped his cup of water quietly, while Junhui on my right stared blankly at his empty plate, absently toying with his fork. The clinking of utensils and sporadic bursts of laughter created a facade of normalcy, but I could still feel Seungcheol's intense gaze burning into me from across the table.

What's his problem? I wondered, trying to ignore the weight of his stare.

I wanted to look up and glare back at him, but something in me warned against it, a voice cautioning restraint. The feeling suddenly dissipated, and I seized the opportunity to lift my gaze. Jeonghan was engaged in conversation with Seungcheol, diverting his attention from me and sparing me from his piercing stare.

In that moment, I felt a surge of gratitude towards him, despite my earlier feelings about him. Suddenly, I heard my name being called.

A plate of pudding was pushed towards me by Chan, who winked and gave me a thumbs-up. I gratefully accepted the pudding, enjoying the sweet taste of caramel upon soft milk pudding.

As the sweetness of the pudding lingered on my tongue, someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned to see Seungkwan looking longingly at the pudding over Wonwoo's shoulder. "Is it good?"

I nodded eagerly. Seungkwan sighed, swallowing. "If only I'm not on a diet…”

“Then don't be on a diet.” Next to Seungkwan, Jihoon interjected, leaning into his palm as he stabbed his food absentmindedly with his fork. “You're not a reporter anyway.”

“Hyung, I look ridiculous in the office photos. Every time I walk past my photos I see a dying whale amongst a crowd of people.” Seungkwan touched his face, frowning. I shook my head. “You're fine, Seungkwan. I agree with Jihoon too.”

Seungkwan made a face. “I have a problem with bloating, Raeyang.” His expression was serious. “It really disrupts my image as a journalist—”

“Don't be ridiculous.” I looked up. Seungcheol was frowning at Seungkwan, while Jeonghan let out a tired sigh. “Kwan, you're fine. You can just go down to the gym tomorrow with Jihoon to do an extra rep.”

“I don't want to,” I heard Seungkwan mutter in reply. Seungcheol opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly cut across him. “You work as a journalist, Seungkwan?”

“Yeah! Oh, I haven't introduced myself formally to you, have I?” Seungkwan’s eyes lit up as he shot me a grateful look for stopping Seungcheol from nagging. “I work as a journalist for the newspaper Carat Daily.”

“Carat Daily!” I repeated, shocked. “That's one of the biggest news companies here!”

Seungkwan looked proud. “Yeah. Wonwoo hyung’s a streamer under their sub-company Campfire Streams. He's a pretty popular streamer too.”

Wonwoo waved his hand. “Nah, I'm still ranking up the charts.”

“Don't act so humble. You were gloating about it yesterday.” Beside Seungcheol, Chan snorted loudly. Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Shut up and eat your food.”

“What about you, Raeyang?” Junhui asked. I looked down at my almost-empty plate. “I'm an interior designer.”

“Woah. That sounds cool.” Seungkwan said. “What's the job scope like?”

“Just providing sketches of designs of rooms to match with my client's ideas. I normally work from home, though.”

“I wish I could work from home.” Jeonghan sighed longingly. “But I'm always needed at the studio. I'm a model, by the way.”

I'm not surprised by that. “I can see that.”

Jeonghan’s eyes glinted. “How?” He asked, leaning in. I took a bite of my food absentmindedly as I replied to him. “Well, you're really good-looki—” I stopped mid-sentence, realising what I was saying. Looking up, Jeonghan looked pleased with himself, his eyes wrinkling into crescent moons as he grinned. “Really? You think that I’m good-looking?”

I mentally face-palmed myself. “Urm… I- Yeah…” Why did I say that out loud?

“Well, Raeyang, Hannie’s going to gloat about this for a very long time.” Joshua said, noticing my embarrassment. Jeonghan rolled his eyes at him. “She’s only telling the truth. Everyone knows that I, Yoon Jeonghan, am the most good-looking resident of the Maestro.”

There was only silence for a while, before Mingyu snorted. “There’s a fine line between daydreaming and deluding, hyung, don’t cross it,” he said, earning a glare from Jeonghan. “If I am a model instead of you—”

“You’ll be endorsing all the underwear brands.” Seungkwan commented as the table burst into laughter. Mingyu pouted unhappily. “Stop laughing. That's not funny.”

“Who do you think is the most good-looking person here?” Chan asked, as everyone’s attention returned to me once again. “Other than Jeonghan hyung, of course.”

Oh, how I wish I could disappear from the face of Earth right now.

“Don’t ask that stupid question, Dino-ah.” Soonyoung tutted. “You’re putting Raeyang in a tight spot. Of course, I am the most good-looking one after Jeonghan hyung.”

That caused a commotion of protest from the others. I shot Soonyoung a thankful smile for saving me, as he winked. Seungcheol cleared his throat, causing the chaos to die down. “Alright, that’s enough.” He said, as everyone returned to their food.

“If you’re an interior designer, can I look at some of your samples?” I looked towards Junhui. “I’ve been wanting to redesign my apartment, but Hao’s refusing to help me to design. Said he would rather make a stray dog a home than to help me with my apartment.” He jabbed his thumb accusingly at the mentioned man from across the table.

“Minghao’s a designer too?” I asked, surprised. Junhui shrugged. “I guess. He makes clothes and paints.”

“Sure, I would love to help you…” I said. I have no upcoming projects anyway, so why not help a new neighbour out? “By the way, what’s your job?”

“A boring accountant. I work from home mostly.” Junhui took out his phone. “Can we exchange numbers?” He asked, handing me his phone for me to punch my number in. “My unit’s 303, on the other side of the elevator. You can come up at any time to take a look around.”

“Alright.” I handed him his phone back. “I think I’ll go visit once Jeonghan tours me around the place.”

“Then that's decided.” “What's decided?” Beside Junhui, Seokmin asked.

“Mind your own business.” Junhui picked a piece of cutlet up and stuffed it into Seokmin’s mouth. “Eat your food.”

Nothing else interesting happened after that. When everyone was almost done, I looked up at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see that the time was already nine.

“Who is on dishwashing duty today?” I hear Chan say. Everyone gradually got up from their seats and so did I. Soonyoung and Seokmin came over to me. “Hey, Raeyang! We’ll send you up, Jihoon’s on dishwashing duty today.”

“That reminds me. When you’re bringing Raeyang around tomorrow, show her the roster list,” Seungcheol said to Jeonghan, who waved at me. Mingyu had already disappeared into the kitchen, and Vernon strolled past me with a couple of dirty plates on a tray. “See ya, new neighbour.”

“See you… Thank you for the meal!” I said, as Soonyoung led me to the door. Wonwoo waved as Mingyu’s head popped out from behind the kitchen door.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it! See you tomorrow!”

“Oh, Raeyang!” I turned. Jeonghan was still in his seat, and he gave me a lazy smile. “Nine in the morning, tomorrow.”

I nodded in reply as Seokmin closed the door behind me. Both of them led me back towards the elevator, and Soonyoung turned to me. “How was it?”

“The food’s pretty great,” I replied, smiling.

Seokmin nodded in agreement. “Of course, Mingyu’s a famous private chef for the rich.”

“Really?” I asked, shocked.

Seokmin grinned. “Yeah, so it’s a privilege to have him cooking for us every day. I cook too, if I’m on kitchen duty…”

“Seungcheol mentioned the roster list…”

“It’s the big board on the first level. Jeonghan hyung will bring you to check it out tomorrow. I think there’s going to be a shuffle of roster duties since you’re here,” Soonyoung pressed the button on the elevator. The doors quickly opened and we all stepped in. “It’s mainly stuff like gardening, dishwashing, trash emptying, and grocery shopping. Seungkwan was all about organic food intake, so we grow our own vegetables. Still, we don’t really have a farm, and the meat’s got to come from somewhere.”

“Don’t worry too much about it, there’s fourteen of us to balance the roster anyway,” Seokmin said as the elevator doors slowly opened for us to alight. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Raeyang. Have a good night!” He waved, and I waved back.

“Thank you, Dokyeom.”

“Don’t mention it. See ya, Hoshi.” A big smile hung on Seokmin’s face as he walked towards the opposite corridor of Soonyoung and me. “Bye, Kyeom.”

As Soonyoung and I walked back to our own apartments, he spoke. “If you can’t sleep tonight, Raeyang, you can take the elevator up to the fifth level. There’s a terrace up there. You might meet one of the others if you’re there, though. The stars are pretty clear and obvious over here.”

He pointed up, and I noticed the ring on his finger. “Can I ask you something, Hoshi?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you guys know each other for a very long time?” Soonyoung followed my gaze, looking at the silver ring on his pinkie. “I noticed that all of you wore that ring.”

“Ah.” Soonyoung pulled the ring off his pinkie, holding it out in front of me. “You mean this? Well, you could say that I have known these guys for almost all my life,” he said with a fond smile. “This is a… I guess you could call it a symbol of our family.”

Soonyoung’s initials were carved into the silver ring. I removed my gaze from it, looking at him. “My father had a ring with his name engraved on it too,” I said lightly, missing the way Soonyoung’s shoulder tensed. He cleared his throat, putting his ring back on.

“Well, maybe you'll get yours too. I think Joshua hyung’s asking everyone to vote on the design for the new ring.”

“New ring?” I repeated. “You guys change it often?”

“From time to time. Sometimes one of us gets tired of the design.” We stopped in front of my door. “Have a good night, Raeyang.”

“You too, Hoshi. Thank you for today.” I opened the door, turning to him.

What I didn't know was that as soon as I closed the door, Soonyoung’s smile faded. He clicked his tongue impatiently, staring at the ring on his pinkie as he muttered something under his breath. If I had been there, I would have been shocked at what he said.

My father’s name.

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[junplusone]

The Maestro The Others

word count - 3k words pairings - seventeen ot13 x fem!oc genre - mature, dark romance, cultish/yandere, mystery , crack chapter warnings - none

author's notes - this is also posted on ao3! lalali m/v killed lots of people, (esp. mingyu's jacuzzi(?) part, boy know what he's doing) and i simply adore vernon's outfit!

thank you @sousydive for beta reading!

series taglist — @seungkwanschicken pernament taglist — @sousydive @yeodeulz @oddracha @jaerisdiction @yukichan67 @evidive @onysmamas

back to masterlist?

Dear Mr. [REDACTED],

We have received news of your newborn child. We extend our heartfelt congratulations to you and your wife for her safe delivery. Please be reminded of your promise with us, and we trust that you will fulfill it.

Sincerely,

The Residents of the Maestro

When I finished packing, it was already seven. I decided to change into a pair of casual outfits - a simple white tee with black jeans. As I tied my hair up into a neat ponytail, I couldn’t help but feel nervous about the dinner later. Would it be rude of me to show up empty-handed? It is my first time visiting; I want to leave a good impression.

I glanced around the apartment, searching for something I could bring. Spotting a vase on the counter, I quickly grabbed it and rushed to the balcony, plucking a few fresh flowers from the potted plants. I made a simple bouquet, placing them on the coffee table.

I hope they don’t mind flowers, the owner of 301.

The doorbell rang again, and I hurriedly checked my outfit in the mirror one last time before rushing to the door. “Coming!” I called, opening it to find Soonyoung standing there, a familiar bright grin on his face.

“Hi! Shua hyung told me to come and pick you up. Oh, and to pass you this…” Soonyoung grinned.

“Hi, Hoshi, thank you,” I said, taking the file. “Are we going to 301?”

“Yeah, to Mingyu’s.” Soonyoung's grin widened. His gaze lingered on my outfit. “Nice fashion sense, you dress like Kwannie. He lives in 401, by the way,” he added, his voice light and casual.

Jeonghan, Chan, Mingyu, Kwannie... How many people live in this strange apartment complex? “I see… I'll put this down,” I said, rushing to put the document on the coffee table. Taking the bouquet, I went back to Soonyoung. “Let's go…”

“Hang on, let's go with Hoonie and Dokyeom,” Soonyoung said, noticing the bouquet in my hands. “That’s a nice bouquet.”

Hoonie and Dokyeom, that’s two more names. Adding the three men and the four names earlier, there must be more than ten residents here. “Thank you… I didn’t want to show up empty-handed…”

“I’m sure Mingyu would appreciate it,” Soonyoung said kindly. I walked alongside him to the corridor on the other side of the elevator. The both of us stopped in front of the apartment door labelled 203.

Something about the atmosphere felt off, as if there was an underlying current of secrecy that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Soonyoung knocked on the door, shouting. “Hoon? Are you done?” he called out.

Silence followed, broken only by the sound of approaching footsteps. Soon, a pale figure wearing a grey hoodie and sweatpants opened the door. He shared the same almond eyes as Hoshi, framed by long lashes. Despite the gentle flush to his cheeks, there was a coldness in his gaze, as if he were distant, detached. It gave him the appearance of a strawberry mochi with a frosty exterior.

He eyed me silently, before casting a questioning glance at Soonyoung, silently demanding an explanation. Soonyoung pulled him out in front of him, turning to me. “This is Lee Jihoon. Hoonie, this is Raeyang, the new resident in 201.”

“Are we doing introductions now?” A sudden voice joined from behind me. I jumped again, turning to see a tall blonde man shutting the door of 204. His eyes were round and lively, sparkling with a mischievous glint. 

Beneath his straight and well-defined nose, his lips were full and curved into a wide, charming smile, revealing a set of perfectly aligned teeth. “Oh, you must be the new neighbour, Kang Raeyang, right?” he exclaimed warmly. I nodded, and he shot me a cheeky wink. “Hi, I’m Lee Seokmin, you can call me Dokyeom. Don’t worry about Jihoon, he looks distant but he’s a huge softie-”

“Kyeom, shut up,” Jihoon muttered, scowling at Seokmin. I looked to Soonyoung for help, but he seemed entertained by the turns of events. “Now, don’t fight, you know Cheol hyung would be annoyed…”

“Not fighting,” Jihoon avoided my eyes. “Hi, welcome to the family,” he murmured, closing his door and heading towards the elevator. Soonyoung nudged me with a grin, gesturing me to follow after Jihoon. Seokmin caught up to me, sending me a friendly smile.

“I heard about your parents,” he started, his tone friendly yet with a hint of something peculiar. “I’m sorry about them. They were nice.”

“You know my parents? Oh, right. They owned this building.” The bitterness from earlier seemed to creep back into my heart. As we waited for the elevator, Seokmin patted my shoulder, his smile unwaveringly warm but his touch lingering a bit longer than usual. “Well, Raeyang. We don’t keep secrets here, so I can assure you that Shua really told you everything he knows.”

“Dokyeom’s right,” Soonyoung agreed, his cheerful demeanour not faltering, but there was something in his eyes that seemed to hint at a deeper understanding. Seokmin retrieved his hand while Jihoon leaned on the wall with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“Over here, everyone knows everything about everyone. No one has a secret. We’re a big family. Right, Hoonie?” Soonyoung nudged Jihoon, who was still avoiding my gaze. He nodded silently at Soonyoung's cue.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, the elevator arrived with a ‘ding’. The doors opened, revealing a young man standing inside. He looked like he stepped out of a painting; his eyes were like pools of liquid silver, framed by long lashes that gave him a dreamy, otherworldly gaze. His nose was straight and slender, leading down to lips that were soft and inviting. His hair was tied up into a short ponytail, and when he spoke, his voice was soft and angelic.

“Oh? What a coincidence.” His lips curled. Jihoon inclined his head at him, while Seokmin and Soonyoung greeted him loudly. “Jeonghan hyung!” 

So this is the Jeonghan that was supposed to show me around earlier. Jeonghan stepped aside, allowing the four of us to enter the elevator. “Hello, Raeyang, I am Yoon Jeonghan,” he introduced himself with a slight tilt of his head, his voice soft. “I apologise for not being able to show you around earlier, I was busy. Nice bouquet you have there, by the way.”

As the elevator door closed, his eyes seemed to glint with a hidden emotion. I could feel the heat rising to my face as I shook my head. “Thank you.. And no, it’s okay. Seungcheol showed me around,” I said, hoping that Jeonghan wouldn’t notice the blush on my face.

But Jeonghan laughed lightly, “I know he didn’t, Raeyang. You don’t even know where the letterbox is,” he said casually, his tone lying with a hint of… anger? “But maybe I can show you around tomorrow, Raeyang. How does that sound to you?”

“Sure…” I replied, feeling a chill run down my spine as the air in the lift turned colder than usual. Suddenly, it felt suffocating to be standing right next to Jeonghan. The elevator stopped, saving me from the silent tension. I quickly exited, eager to escape his unsettling presence.

There were two unfamiliar faces standing in the middle of the lobby. One of them was a tall, thin man with a black mullet. He wore a thin brown button-up with black pants, and his feet were clad in comfortable sandals. The other man had silver hair and was dressed in a simple hoodie, paired with grey sweatpants and running shoes.

Once again, why are they all so good-looking?

“Minghao! Hansollie! What are the two of you doing outside?” Seokmin called out loudly, gaining their attention.

I silently switched my position to stand beside Jihoon instead, feeling safer with him than with Jeonghan. Jihoon gave me a weird look, and I returned a smile back to him. He paused, his eyes widening a little before turning away from me. 

“Ah, hyungs.” The man with the silver hair spoke. He looks mixed, with fair skin and a pair of light, hazel eyes. “We were just waiting for Kwan and Jun hyung.” His brows raised when he saw me. “Is this the new neighbour?”

“Yeah. Raeyang, this is Vernon, or Hansol, his Korean name. That’s Minghao,” the thin man with the mullet tilted his head at me. It was then I realised that his eyes were actually electrifying blue. “Hello.”

“Hello, Miss Raeyang.” Minghao’s voice is surprisingly soft. Vernon, on the other hand, nodded at me. “What’s up?” He said coolly. I gave him an awkward smile, the goosebumps once again rising up my arm. “Erm, I’m all good?”

“That’s nice to know.” Vernon’s features crinkled into a smile as he raised a thumbs up at me. Seokmin clapped him on his back, while Soonyoung hung an arm over Minghao’s shoulder. “Should we go in first? I wanna introduce Raeyang.” Soonyoung grinned, while Vernon seemed unfazed. “You guys can go in first. Jeonghan hyung, Kwan asked for you too.” He said, before his gaze fell on me again. “I believe Mingyu hyung would be very happy to see a new face.” 

Minghao cleared his throat, and for a moment he seemed to be struggling to speak. “Is… Is that bouquet of flowers for Mingyu?” Minghao pressed his lips together, after he had spoken. I nodded in response, and he quickly looked away, not speaking another word. I blinked, not understanding his reaction. 

“Alright then, let’s go, Raeyang!” Seokmin, seemingly noticing the rising awkwardness, let go of Vernon, beckoning me. Jihoon muttered something under his breath as he quickly walked past me to the corridor. I quickly followed in his footsteps, while Seokmin and Soonyoung trailed behind me. Feeling a nod on my shoulder, I turned my head around. Seokmin gave me an apologetic grin. “Sorry about Minghao, he’s not really good at socialising.” 

“Ah, no, I wasn’t offended or anything.” I said quickly, waving my hands in front of my chest. Seokmin patted his own. “Thank goodness, a lot of people thought Hao had an attitude. He’s nice, he’s just a little introverted-”

“We’re here.” Jihoon’s voice cut Seokmin’s words off again. Apartment 301 was just right at the corner. The door was left open, and Jihoon went straight in. I held the bouquet of flowers tightly in my hand, entering the apartment. 

A large, spacious living room greeted me as I entered. In it, I could see a kitchen. A tall figure was busing behind the stove, talking animatedly as another worked quietly next to him. A huge dinner table was placed in the middle of the living room, and Seokmin headed straight towards a black-haired man in a black hoodie sitting by the couch. Once he noticed us, he quickly stood up.

The man’s eyes were bright and expressive, and they seemed to hold a sense of mischief. His nose was small and slightly upturned, giving him a boyish charm. His lips were curled into a mischievous grin as he spoke. “Is this who I think she is?”

“Bingo!” Soonyoung clapped loudly, followed by Seokmin. The man held out his hand to me. “Hi, I’m Lee Chan. You can call me by my stage name Dino, or just Chan.” 

A stage name, just like Soonyoung. They must be some kind of performers. I reached out to shake his hand. “My name is Kang Raeyang, nice to meet you, Chan.” I said, as the two people working in the kitchen walked out. “Ah! New neighbour!” The taller one said loudly, taking off his apron while the other beside him adjusted his glasses. “Hi, I’m Kim Mingyu, this is Jeon Wonwoo.” 

Mingyu's appearance could be described as strikingly sinful; his face is strong, with a square jawline that gives him a ruggedly handsome look. His eyes, a deep shade of brown, hold a mixture of warmth and intensity, like smouldering embers. His eyebrows are thick and well-defined, adding to the intensity of his gaze. I was reminded of the sexy models I’ve seen in magazines - well, that could be Mingyu, only if he wasn’t smiling so brightly. 

Beside him, Wonwoo's face had a different aura. His eyes, dark and deep, and beneath his sharply defined eyebrows, his gaze held a quiet intensity. His sharp jawline gave his face a certain ruggedness, contrasting with the softness of his lips, which are now curved into a subtle smile. 

Noticing that I have been staring at Mingyu for quite a while, I quickly handed out the bouquet of flowers, hoping that no one noticed my flustered state. “I’m Kang Raeyang, sorry for coming at such short notice… I should have brought something better…”

Mingyu blinked, and then tears welled up in his eyes. I stood in shock as he sniffed, taking the flowers from me. “Oh, that’s s-so sweet of you, Raeyang… These jerks here didn’t even get me anything when I have been working my ass off, cooking them food…”

“I helped you prepare them,” Wonwoo's voice was low, sounding tired. Chan rolled his eyes in response, while Seokmin clapped his hands together, checking the time. “It’s almost seven fifteen, is dinner ready yet?”

Mingyu recovered almost immediately. “I’ll go find a vase for these flowers. Chan, set the table. The rest of you, bring out the dishes.” As the others moved to obey his command, he turned to me, grinning. I noticed that his incisors are quite pointy, like a vampire. “Meanwhile, Raeyang, do you mind helping me supervise them? Especially Chan.” 

“Yah! Kim Mingyu, you dramatic puppy!” Chan scowled and Mingyu stuck his tongue out at him. Soonyoung quickly ushered me to the kitchen. “Ignore the both of them, they are very childish…” 

“Says the person who believes that he’s a tiger!” Chan yelled from behind, and Soonyoung's eyes turned wide with disbelief. He turned back, hands on his hips. “What are you talking about? I am a tiger-”

A pair of pale hands suddenly pulled me into the kitchen. I yelped in surprise as Jihoon swiftly moved in front of me. He scowled at the noise outside, slamming the kitchen door shut after Wonwoo and Seokmin entered.

"They are so noisy," he muttered, his tone exasperated as he leaned against the door, letting go of my wrist as he folded his arms. Wonwoo snorted and went back to the pots and plates, filling them up with the delicious-smelling food while Seokmin helped him.

I stepped forward to lend a hand, but I felt Jihoon grab my wrist again. I looked back at him, not understanding. “I want to help…” I started, but Jihoon shook his head. “You can help Chan take out the plates, he’ll come in after they stop yelling.” He pointed to two cabinets opposite Wonwoo and Seokmin. “There’s fourteen of us including you.”

“Alright…” I quickly took out the utensils. Jihoon opened the drawer beside me, carefully taking out the cutlery. The shouts outside died out, followed by a loud cackling of laughter and a roar of anger by someone unseen. I looked up in fear at the roar, but the other three in the kitchen didn't seem to be affected by it.

Soon, the kitchen door slid open, and Chan marched in, looking furious. His eyes blazed as he stormed past us, muttering curses under his breath.

"Stupid Seungkwan hyung," Chan complained to Wonwoo while walking past him, taking a tray from the shelves above and starting to load the cutlery Jihoon had placed on the counter. "I’ll bite his head off one day, acting like he owns the place again… And Cheol hyung always sides with him…"

Seungkwan. Soonyoung and Vernon had both mentioned his name. “Kwan’s here?” Seokmin asked interestedly, while Chan gave him a side eye, exiting the kitchen. Wonwoo sighed, giving me an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, they are like Tom and Jerry-”

“I heard that the new neighbour is here!” A head peeked out from behind the kitchen door. He has a slightly rounded face with soft, chubby cheeks, his eyes bright with light. He has a slightly pointed nose and a prominent chin, and his hair was dyed to a soft brown, falling short from his eyes. “Oh, hello! Jun hyung! Come say hi!”

A second head peeked into the kitchen. He has high cheekbones and a defined jawline, his nose is straight and well-proportioned, adding to the symmetry of his face. Unlike Seungkwan, who seemed friendly and excited, he seemed a little tired and disinterested. “Hi.”

I placed my hands in front of me politely. “Hello, I’m Kang Raeyang.”

Seungkwan waved his hand dismissively. "Don’t need to be so informal. I’m Boo Seungkwan, and this is Wen Junhui.”

“And can you not block the door?” Chan’s irritated voice came from behind them, and Seungkwan quickly turned around, scowling. “Is that how you talk to your elders, you rascal?”

“The both of you, enough!” A familiar deep voice boomed from the living room, instantly quieting the both of them. Junhui disappeared, while Seungkwan pouted. “Okay, okay, hyung. Keep your hair on.”

“He’s even more naggy than Kim Mingyu.” Chan muttered as Seungkwan stepped aside for him to go into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Seokmin had loaded the dishes onto another tray. “Hey, Raeyang, do you mind helping me with these?”

“Sure,” I nodded and walked over to him. Wonwoo passed me a second tray, “careful.” He warned. I followed Seokmin to the living room, where a big dining table is set up. Most of the seats are filled with the people I’ve seen. Joshua sent a gentle smile my way. “Hello, Raeyang.”

“Hi, Joshua.” I replied, standing beside him and putting down the tray. Opposite him, Seungcheol frowned. “Why are you loading the dishes?” He snapped, looking frustrated. 

“Oh,” I was a little taken aback by his reaction. “I said I wanted to help…”

A pair of slender hands appeared on Seungcheol’s shoulder. I see Jeonghan shaking his head at Seungcheol, before turning to me with a smile.

“Thank you for helping, Raeyang,” he started. “But I think you should just sit down, Vernon will take it from here,” as if on cue, Vernon stood up, giving me a lazy smile. “You can sit there.” He pointed to an empty seat next to Junhui, and the mentioned man waved at me. “Dinner will start soon.”

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©peachesyeo, 2024

i do not own the dividers nor pictures used in banner. all credit goes to their original owners. owner of animated / 18+ banner ; owner of rose banner

[junplusone]

The Maestro 0001 - the invitation

word count - 2.8k words pairings - seventeen ot13 x fem!oc genre - mature, dark romance, cultish/yandere, mystery, crack chapter warnings - none

author's notes - no preview, whoops. anyway, do you like the new outline? i really hope you do! if you want to join the chapter's taglist do comment down on the masterlist page!

thank you @sousydive for beta reading!

series taglist — pernament taglist — @sousydive @yeodeulz @oddracha @jaerisdiction @yukichan67 @evidive @onysmamas

back to masterlist?

Dear Ms. Kang Raeyang,

It is with sincere solemnity that we extend our invitation to you. You have been chosen to reside within the Maestro, as per your parents' prior instructions, following their untimely departure.

In the midst of our condolences, we trust that you will heed this summons and join us promptly.

Yours faithfully,

The Residents of the Maestro

The apartment complex loomed over the quiet street. Its sleek exterior, while undeniably contemporary, exuded an aura of mystery and unease. The building's design was a juxtaposition of sharp angles and smooth curves, creating an unsettling yet intriguing silhouette against the skyline. Dark tinted windows lined its façade, offering no glimpse into the secrets hidden within.

As I approached, a chill seemed to linger in the air, sending shivers down my spine. The atmosphere around the Maestro seemed to be cloaked in a thick fog, obscuring the true nature of what lay beyond its imposing exterior. Despite its modernity, there was something ancient and foreboding about the building, as if it held secrets that had been buried for centuries. It loomed over the surrounding landscape like a silent sentinel, watching, waiting.

A heavy iron gate stood sentinel at the entrance, its bars twisted into elaborate designs that seemed to writhe and shift in the shifting light. Beyond it, a cobblestone path disappeared into the darkness.

In front of the entrance, a small security post with tinted windows stood like a sentinel, its presence adding to the eerie atmosphere. My breath hitched as I grip the invitation tightly, slowly approaching the post. 

Upon inspection, the post seems to be empty. Its tinted windows give no clue of whether there was anyone inside of it. I raised my knuckles, politely knocking on the window three times. 

“Hello?”

The sound echoed hollowly in the still air. For a moment, there was no response, just the faint chirp of a passing bird. Then, a shuffling noise came from within, followed by the creak of a chair.

A figure emerged from the shadows, their features obscured by the tinted glass. They leaned forward, peering out at me with unseen eyes.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Their voice was muffled, distant, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Erm, h-hi," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I received an invitation to... to live here."

There was a moment of silence, as if the figure was considering my words. Then, with a slight nod, they reached out and slid open a small panel at the base of the window.

"Give it here," they said, their voice low and gravelly.

I hesitated for a moment before passing the invitation through the opening. The figure took it, their hand disappearing back into the darkness.

It felt like eternity, before they slid the window door open with a metallic scrape. A man sat behind the window, holding the invitation. He wore a black, security guard’s outfit and had a chiselled, handsome face with a strong, angular jawline and piercing eyes. His sleek black hair frames his face in waves, and he ran a veiny hand back his hair as he handed the invitation back. 

“You're… Miss Kang Raeyang?” he asked, his voice deep and resonant, carrying a hint of intrigue.

I nodded, nervous under his strong and commanding presence. The man observed me with a judicious gaze, his eyes seeming to weigh every aspect of my being.

“My name is Choi Seungcheol,” he said, his voice low and measured, as if each word carried a hidden weight. His lips formed a tight smile, but there was a hint of something unreadable in his eyes, shrouded behind a veil of mystery. “I’m a resident and the security guard here.”

“I’ve been told to… show you around,” he continued, his tone betraying a reluctance. Cautiously, I bowed in response, feeling a shiver run down my spine. “I’m Kang Raeyang. Nice to meet you.”

Seungcheol shut the window panes with a deliberate click. The iron gates slowly opened, and he stepped out of his post, his movements smooth and controlled. He handed me a card, his eyes flickering to the luggage behind me.

“Your apartment has been prepared by your parents, Miss Kang,” he informed me, his tone neutral but his gaze penetrating. “This is the key card to your apartment, 201.”

“Thank you… You can call me Raeyang, by the way,” I replied, my voice a little uncertain as I peered at the keycard with interest. It was the size of a credit card, plain black with a ‘M’ logo in gold. A small ‘201’ was etched in the corner of the card.

Seungcheol hummed softly, his expression unreadable as I looked back up at him. “Likewise. You can just call me Seungcheol.”

There was a period of awkward silence. Seungcheol's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, as if assessing something beyond the surface. Then, with a nod, he motioned towards my luggage.

"You can leave them here," he said, his tone softening just slightly. "I'll take care of your luggage. Follow me."

With that, he turned and began walking towards the entrance of the building. I fell into step beside him, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity about what lay ahead. As we walked, the grandeur of the Maestro became even more apparent. The intricate details of the architecture seemed to come alive in the fading light, casting long shadows that danced across the cobblestone path.

Seungcheol remained mostly silent as we walked, his footsteps echoing in the quiet surroundings. Occasionally, he would look towards a certain direction, as if expecting somebody to be waiting there. But nobody ever showed up.

Finally, we reached the entrance, where the heavy black doors stood slightly ajar. Seungcheol pushed them open with a gentle push, revealing the dimly lit foyer beyond.

"After you," he said, his voice soft but commanding, as if granting permission to enter a forbidden realm.

I stepped inside, feeling a rush of anticipation as the doors closed behind me with a soft thud. I found myself in awe of a grand lobby adorned with marble floors and ornate chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. The room was bathed in a warm golden glow, the light casting intricate patterns on the polished surfaces.

Seungcheol gestured towards the row of gleaming elevators at the far end of the lobby.

"Your apartment is on the second floor," he explained, his voice echoing faintly in the spacious room. I nodded, following him towards the elevators. The doors slid open silently as we approached, revealing a plush interior with mirrored walls. Seungcheol pressed the button for the second floor, and the elevator began its ascent with a soft hum.

As we rose, I couldn't help but steal glances at Seungcheol. There was something about him, something mysterious and intriguing, that drew me in despite my apprehension. 

After Mum and Dad died in the sudden car crash, they left me nothing but some money and an instruction to wait for an invitation to an apartment building, which they had signed me up for. But why? Why this place? Why didn’t they tell me anything when they were alive?

These questions plagued my thoughts as the elevator came to a stop. The doors slid open, revealing a long hallway lined with doors. Seungcheol led the way, his steps echoing on the polished floor. As we reached the door marked with the number 201, Seungcheol paused. “Here.”

With a deep breath, I slid the keycard into the lock and pushed open the door, stepping into the apartment that was to be my new home. Inside, the space was bathed in soft lamplight, casting a warm glow over the furnishings. It was tastefully decorated, with touches of elegance and comfort that spoke of my parents' love and care.

But even as I took in the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease lingered in the air. What secrets lay hidden behind these walls? And why had my parents chosen to keep me in the dark?

"New neighbour?" I jumped at the new voice, turning around. A young man stood in front of the door opposite mine, his almond-shaped eyes peering at me with interest. He was dressed in a plain white tank top that accentuated his toned arms,and blue jeans that hugged his legs comfortably. Seungcheol frowned.

"Soonyoung, you scared her."

"Sorry," Soonyoung scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I was just about to go over to Chan’s; he had a new routine to show me."

If Seungcheol’s aura was commanding and mysterious, Soonyoung was the opposite. He cheerfully walked over to us, holding out a hand. "Hi, I’m Kwon Soonyoung. You can call me by my stage name Hoshi," he beamed, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth. "I live in 202.”

“I’m Kang Raeyang. You can just call me by my name,” I said, shaking his hand carefully. His skin was cool to the touch, like it was dipped in iced water. “Nice to meet you, Hoshi.”

Soonyoung gave me another huge smile before turning to Seungcheol. “How come you’re the one showing Raeyang around? I thought Jeonghan hyung was supposed to do the job.”

Seungcheol's expression shifted subtly, a shadow passing over his features before he replied, "Jeonghan is busy with other matters."

Soonyoung nodded, though there was a curious glint in his eyes as he glanced back at me “Well, I really need to go. You can always look for me if you need help,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of his apartment door. “See you around, Raeyang.” 

With that, he flashed me one last bright smile before bouncing off towards the elevator. Seungcheol cleared his throat, attracting my attention. 

“Your parent’s lawyer lives in the Maestro,” he said. “He will be here shortly to explain some things to you. I advise you to wait in the apartment while I go get your luggage.”

I nodded, taking in his words. The mention of my parents' lawyer only added to the mystery surrounding this place.

"Alright," I replied. "I'll wait in the apartment."

Seungcheol gave a curt nod before heading off to retrieve my luggage. As I watched him go, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was much more to this building—and to my parents' intentions—than met the eye. 

I entered my apartment. It was small and cosy, with a few decorative plants scattered around. The soft light filtering in through the windows added to the warm atmosphere. Seungcheol mentioned that my parents had decorated the place for me, and I smiled when I saw a framed photo of my parents and I on the counter.

The sight of their smiling faces brought a bittersweet pang to my heart. Despite the unanswered questions surrounding their sudden passing, it was comforting to have a piece of them here with me.

I moved further into the apartment, exploring the space. The living area was furnished with a comfortable-looking couch and a coffee table, while the kitchenette boasted modern appliances and neatly organised cabinets. Another soft smile found its way to my face when I saw a bookshelf filled with books on the wall. 

A hallway led to the bedroom, where a cosy-looking bed awaited me, adorned with soft blankets and plump pillows. It was a simple yet inviting space, one that felt like home despite its unfamiliarity.

I left the bedroom, taking a book from the shelves before settling on the couch. The Girls, by Emma Cline. I frowned, staring at the cover of the book.

Strange. I don’t read books of this genre.

Just as I was about to open the book and flip through its pages, the doorbell rang. I hurried over to the door, revealing a tall, lean man standing outside. His presence exuded a sense of polished professionalism. He stood tall and composed, with an air of confidence that commanded attention. His dark hair was neatly styled, framing his face in a way that accentuated his striking features.

Dressed in a well-fitted suit, the man spoke, his voice was smooth and articulate, carrying a sense of assurance.

"Miss Kang Raeyang?" he said, his tone professional yet warm. I nodded. “You’re my parent’s lawyer?”

His lips were set in a gentle curve and his eyes crinkled kindly into a crescent moon. “Yes. My name is Hong Jisoo, or Joshua. Do you mind if I help you with these?” He gestured to the luggages behind him. “Cheol had to rush back, so he told me to help you.”

“Oh, thank you, Joshua!” I said gratefully. Joshua flashed me a small smile before he easily lifted the two heavy suitcases into the apartment. "I am sure that you have many questions, Miss Kang," Joshua said as I quickly pushed the suitcases into the bedroom. "I’ll try my best to answer them.” 

“Please, take a seat. I’ll make you some tea… Do you have a preference?” I turned to Joshua, who sat on the couch. He thought for a moment.

“Some earl grey tea will do, Miss Kang,” Joshua replied.

“Alright. Do call me Raeyang,” I replied as I busied myself in the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove and retrieving the tea leaves and cups. The layout of the kitchen was surprisingly similar to the one in the house where both my parents and I lived.

As I waited for the water to boil, I couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation and nervousness that hung in the air. Peeking from the kitchen, I could see Joshua looking around the living room, humming contentedly. He seems nice… and very handsome.

In fact, the three men I’ve come across were all very good looking. Seungcheol, mysterious. Hoshi, friendly. Joshua here gives me an aura of a gentleman.

I shook my head, dispelling the thoughts, and went back to preparing the tea. When it was ready, I set it on a tray, placing it in front of Joshua.

"Here…" I said, offering Joshua the tray with a small smile.

Joshua gave me a nod of thanks as he took a cup and had a sip of the warm tea. “Like I said earlier, Raeyang, I’m pretty sure you have many questions about this arrangement. I cannot promise that I know the answer to all of them, but I am pretty sure I can answer some basic ones.” He sat the cup down back on the tray, turning to me. “Let’s hear them.”

“Firstly, when did my parents get me an apartment in this place?” I questioned. 

“Your parents actually own this building, Raeyang,” Joshua dropped the bombshell, his words heavy with significance. I gaped at him in shock. “What?”

“In fact, I am considered a tenant of yours,” Joshua continued, taking another sip of tea. “Now that your parents have passed, and the building is under your name.”

“I-I see…” I stammered, still digesting the fact. “I never knew…”

“Now you do.” Joshua said kindly. “If I am not wrong, the documents are in your letterbox already. Have Cheol shown you where it is?” I shook my head robotically in answer. “No worries, I'll retrieve it for you.”

“Thank you.” I composed myself. “Secondly… Did my parents leave anything else for me other than this building?”

Joshua shook his head. “I’m afraid not.” I nodded. “I see. Since when did my parents own this building?”

“For quite a long time.” Joshua answered. “Perhaps, around the time when you were born.”

Twenty five years? I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of disbelievement. How could Mum and Dad keep something like that from me for twenty-five years? What other secrets are they keeping from me? 

“I understand how you are feeling now, Raeyang.” Joshua’s smooth voice pulled me out of my darkening thoughts. It was then I realised that tears were gathering in my eyes. I quickly wiped them away, embarrassed. “Sorry…” 

“There’s no need to apologise, Raeyang,” Joshua said gently, his eyes filled with empathy. “It’s perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed by all of this. Your parents loved you very much, and I’m sure they had their reasons for keeping this from you.” 

I must have said my thoughts out loud. "I guess so…" I sniffed, dabbing at my eye. Joshua turned away for a moment, peering intently at the artificial plant next to the couch. I was grateful for him to give me a little private moment to gather my thoughts.

When I composed myself, Joshua turned back to me. “Let’s talk about this another day,” he suggested, reaching for the tea again. “Over here at the Maestro, we usually would have dinner together. The residents of the Maestro,” he added, noticing my look of confusion. “You should join us; it’ll be a great way for you to get to know the rest of us later.”

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the suggestion. "That sounds like a good idea. Thank you, Joshua."

Joshua smiled warmly. "Of course, Raeyang. Over here, we all support each other. You’re part of us now.” He stood up and I followed him. “Dinner starts at seven, apartment 301. If you’re not sure of where to go, just look for Soonyoung. I believe you have already met him.”

“I’ll see you out,” I said, following him to the door. Before he left, Joshua turned to me, holding out his hand with a smile on his face.

“I forgot to say this,” he said softly as I held onto his ice-cold palms, shaking them. “Welcome to the family, Raeyang.”

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