#I’m declaring they exist in my au

[thejujvtsupost]

Smitten Gojo

F!reader catches Gojo’s attention, and no matter how hard he tried to stay away he just couldn’t, it was for your own safety but he figures out he can keep you even safer. Or - Gojo falls in love and he’s very protective of what he holds dear.

You can now hit the #smittengojo tag or check the master list for more of this series! <3

Notes: Lowkey soul bond/soulmate au, fluff, getting together (kinda), first kisses, feelings are outed, mutual pining, all sorcerers have a soulbond.

Thinking about Gojo who keeps everyone at a distance, even his closest friends, until he finds you…

Satoru, who doesn’t know when or how it happened but he fell hard and fast- he won’t tell you though. His lifestyle would put you in danger by principle alone; he has so many enemies that would do anything to hurt him and he can’t let anything happen to you.

Satoru, who adores you but keeps his distance to keep you safe- no matter how hard it is to watch you struggle to make ends meet at your shitty job at the ramen shop. If he had it his way he’d make sure you never have to work again.

Satoru, who thinks you should be spoiled and living comfortably, not in a tiny, crappy apartment you can barely afford, in the world’s worst neighborhood. It was a total coincidence that he noticed you walking home in the pitch dark after a shift, he assumes, and spent a few minutes making sure you got inside safely.

Satoru, who comes in to the restaurant once a week to check on you, making sure to wear sunglasses instead of his blindfold to keep a low profile. (there’s absolutely nothing low profile about him.) He prevents you from falling a few times and picks up things you drop. He loves that you’re a klutz. He’s sure to tip twice what the bill is, then bribes another customer to add more of his money to tip double as well, he doesn’t care about money. It should be spent on you anyway.

Satoru, who finds out you’re sick and wants to take care of you so badly, because as strong as you are- you’re his precious baby. He has kept up a minor acquaintanceship with you, would it be weird if he stopped by with the excuse that he got your address to your crumbly and horribly unsafe apartment from your coworkers?

Okay, he might’ve lost sight of things and let himself get pulled in, and now you were friends but he made sure he kept you separate from everyone and everything else to protect your life

Satoru, who takes a chance and does it anyway. He gets some soup and other easy on the stomach meals you can eat while you’re recovering from the flu, as well as some extra soft tissues and other essentials.

Satoru, who thinks you’re absolutely adorable when you open your door, only to quickly shut it with a squeak, and lets him in after you put on a sweater and put your hair up. He still thinks you’re precious as ever.

You’re his baby, whether you know it or not doesn’t matter- you’re his baby in his heart.

Satoru, who knows you’re always adorable to him. He sets you up with some of the soup and when you smile at him he almost goes into cardiac arrest. He puts his number in your phone and tells you to let him know if you need anything at all, because that’s what friends are for. He hopes he’s not imagining it when you briefly let disappointment cross your features at the word “friends”.

Satoru, who sulks because you have yet to text him but that’s probably for the best. He’ll see you at his usual ramen visit and have the best hour of his entire week. He probably did imagine your disappointment then. :(

Satoru, who leaves for a mission abroad and tells you he’ll be traveling for work for a few weeks, “so stay outta trouble.” It’s a joke and a plea. He asks Nanami to check on you, having to share his secret as much as he hates to, because he’s not going to be able to protect you himself. He hopes you don’t get hurt while he’s gone, he’s learned you’re more likely to get hurt by your own clumsiness than a curse targeting you.

Satoru, who learns from Nanami that you haven’t been to work during his usual visit time. (you’ve had the same schedule practically forever, no way that’s changed.) He unfortunately has to share more of you and gives Nanami your address; when Nanami checks your apartment he finds a final warning eviction notice taped to your door- he reports back to the other man that you didn’t answer the door either. As soon as Satoru finds out he tries even harder to finish the mission early and get home to figure out what happened to his darling waitress.

Satoru, who gets home two days later and immediately goes to the ramen shop before even changing out of his bloody clothes to check on you, only to find out you got fired. You broke your ankle and spent too much time off, they had to let you go. He thinks it’s bullshit- they don’t appreciate how hard you work or care how much the customers like your sweet personality. He sees how tense your shoulders are and notices when you take weight off of one foot to soothe the ache; it kills him inside. You shouldn’t be working in the first place.

Satoru, who gets to your apartment and knocks gently to not scare you. The eviction notice is still up, hasn’t anyone been by to help you when you’re recovering? Seriously? You have a rickety elevator in your building, but how have you been dealing with everything else? He knows your apartment isn’t set up for an injury-

Satoru, who loses his train of thought when you open the door. The chain is still on but from what little he can see he knows you’re alone- and not doing well either. You can barely get around and you’re obviously in pain. You want to turn him away so he doesn’t see how bad you look but you just can’t. Not when he’s looking at you with those striking blue eyes full of so much concern. He took his glasses off to get the best look at you he can.

Satoru, who doesn’t think twice and breaks the chain on your door when you tell him you can’t reach it from where you’re holding yourself up. Crutches didn’t work out for you and you pretty much only use them to get to the bathroom or your bed. Technically you shouldn’t even put weight on your ankle but you don’t have a choice.

Satoru, who immediately picks you up and gets you on the couch, and you burst into tears because that’s the first time you’ve been comforted in years. You’ve been alone since you were barely an adult, no family, and making friends has always been so hard for you.

Satoru, upon seeing your tears, sits beside you and holds you until your sobs are mere hiccups. You’re still trying to find your words but he’s gathered that you fell down the stairs and lost your job, that you haven’t been able to pay rent and eat at the same time. You have no one, and he’s filled with pride because you’re still trying so hard to make your own way even though you started with absolutely nothing.

“What’s with the eviction notice? How behind on rent are you?”

You just shake your head and hide your face in his chest, not wanting to tell him how bad it is because he obviously comes from a lot of money and it’ll only remind you how little of a chance there is that he’d want to be with someone like you. “Sorry, this is so pathetic. I can’t believe I’m crying on you like a damn baby.”

Satoru, who doesn’t think it’s pathetic at all. He hates that you’re hurting but he’s here for you now.

“But you are my baby.” He says it with a little frown- then proceeds to freak out when he realizes he said it out loud and you heard it. He wants to jump off a cliff it’s so mortifying. But it’s too late now, he can’t take it back.

“What? What do you mean?”

Satoru, who has no other choice than to lay it all out on the line for you. He’s tried so hard to stay away and keep you safe from him but it’s no use.

Satoru, who has been speaking with his eyes closed and peeks to check your reaction. It catches him by surprise.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to feel bad for me or anything, I wasn’t trying to guilt you-”

He cuts you off, because he can’t let you go thinking he pities you.

Satoru, who opens his eyes all the way when he feels your hand on his cheek; then you’re kissing him and it’s so soft and sweet. He leans in for another kiss when you pull away, he thinks he’s addicted already.

“Come stay with me? I can’t just leave you here.”

“I dont know…” you have to tell him you can’t pay to be his roommate, his home has to be way fancier than yours.

“I’m not letting my baby pay rent. You’re not a roommate.”

You agree to stay with him, he helps you gather the small suitcase that fits your clothes and essentials. He tells you he’ll have someone get the rest of your stuff.

Satoru, who loves seeing you in his your shared home. It didn’t feel like a home until you came with him. You haven’t established if you’re together or not yet but he doesn’t care, he’s not gonna push you during your vulnerable moments. There’ll be plenty of time to figure it out now that you’re home where you belong.

Satoru, sets you up in his bedroom with your leg elevated and got your pain meds you couldn’t afford before. His room has a large tv and a spacious bathroom attached. He knows his mattress is the most comfortable and it’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever slept on. It makes you nervous you’ll ruin it somehow, but he gives you an encouraging smile when you look unsure, because you belong there too.

Satoru, who wants you to be comfortable above all else. You can have his bed, anything of his is yours as far as he’s concerned. He hopes someday he’ll get to sleep in the same bed as you, but again he won’t force you to let him. You hold the cards- he gave them all to you.

Satoru, who after making sure you’re all set for the night, tells you he’ll check on you in the morning when he sees you nodding off. He brushes your hair from your face and leaves a gentle kiss on your forehead. When he stands up he sees your hand fisted in his shirt.

“Please don’t leave? Please?”

Satoru, can’t say no to that offer. He plans to keep space between you two to not make you uncomfortable, but you have other plans. You’re tired, not drugged up; you can make your own decisions just fine thank you very much. You try to pull him closer by his shirt and you’re unaware that you’re pouting, he complies easily.

Satoru, holds you close and tries not to dwell on the emotional release because he doesn’t want to deal with it right now, that he’s relaxed on an entirely different level for the first time in years.

Satoru, who listens to your soft breathing and falls asleep faster than he has, probably ever, so ready to wake up next to you.

• Index -> Next

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[hyunjinspark]

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 18

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 

word count: 33K

warnings: cursing, drinking, mature content, heavyyyy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, unrequited love, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, whipped hyunjin, a big confrontation, lots of heartbreaks, mentions of diet, mentions of threats, toxic idol culture, a scene of unwarranted sexual advances! (not from hyunjin)

a/n: whew, this is another big chapter and picks up from hyunjin's pov after he moved back to the city, hope that's not confusing! there's a lot of toxicity surrounding idol culture, and features mature language and content throughout. please read the warnings to make sure you're comfortable with everything. this fic has taken a life of it's own, and im really enjoying focusing on yn's character arc, along with the obvious lovestory. this isn't a feel-good chapter, it features a lot of angst and uncomfortable situations, but i promise things will get better after this! anyway, this was very fun to write and picks up on one of my favorite arcs of this story. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

Five Months Ago.

The electric blue guitar in Hyunjin’s hands felt familiar. He adjusted the strap around his body, he was getting used to the weight of it again. It had been a while since he’d touched it, fingers skimming over the strings. If he focused on this, he could ignore the blaring lights in his face. 

“Still not used to the spotlight, Jinnie?” Jisung asked, elbowing him in the stomach. Hyunjin doubled over, avoiding another attack from the man, “Ouch. The lights are brighter than I remember”

“Well, how else will they get our pretty faces on camera?” Jisung grinned, stepping in front of him, and thankfully blocking the heat of the lights. 

“I’m…really hot” Hyunjin declared, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead, “I hope they can fix the cooling in here”

Jisung sighed, lifting his guitar to help him tune it, taking the weight momentarily off his hands. As he did that, someone stepped up to Hyunjin, a little electric fan and makeup palette in hand, “Can you please hold this? Your makeup’s running”

“Sorry” He apologised, even though it was no one’s fault. The stage equipment and lights made the set far too hot, the air conditioning was broken and they’d only just begun. Hyunjin couldn’t fathom what the full day of filming would look like. He held the little fan to his face, the cool instantly relaxing his muscles with relief, shoulders sagging from tension. Jisung stood between them still, trying to tune his guitar and the makeup lady awkwardly stepped closer, patting down the foundation on Hyunjin’s cheeks, “Did you tan when you were away?”

“Um, I suppose. I was out in the sun a lot” He responded, but realised quickly that she didn’t really want a response. She was berating him because his usual foundation no longer matched him. Her lips pulled into a thin line, “You should be careful”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up. Careful about…what exactly? When he was in Daejon, swimming in the Creek, or lounging away in the sun, his first concern wasn’t exactly putting on any heavy sunscreen. He was away from the world of…such.

“He just doesn’t know his face would cost the company millions of won" Jisung joked. It was irresponsible, sure, but he had more important things distracting him at the time. At the memory of the bright Daejon sun, Hyunjin smiled, closing his eyes briefly to revel in the memory. If he thought hard enough, the blaring spotlights could almost replicate the southern summer sun. It was hard to get lost in his imagination though. The lady was prodding and poking at his face, turning him this and that side so she could fix him. This wasn’t the time.

“There. Try playing it now” Jisung said proudly, standing up straight and letting go of Hyunjin’s guitar. So he played a tempo to test it, and the music seemed perfectly fine now. In the end, it was futile anyway. The company didn’t allow them to play live in the music video. Apparently they had no faith that the boys wouldn’t mess up the instruments after such a long hiatus, and there was no time or money for retakes and reshoots. So, they would only pretend to play, and lip-sync the words and hopefully someone in the editing department would make it seem real. Still, Hyunjin was going to try his hardest to genuinely play. He hated pretending.

“Close your eyes,” The lady mumbled, an annoyed tone that frankly felt unwarranted. He followed the instructions, and felt the tip of a brush poking at his eyes as she reapplied some of the darker eyeshadow. The concept for this album was pop-rock, leaning heavily into the rock, and so their makeup was inspired from the 1980s world of rock.

“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asked, as she used a little too much force on him, making his eyes water under the sharp brush.

“Hmm?” She was none the wiser, and he suddenly wondered if he should backtrack, but he wouldn’t be able to continue the filming knowing one of their makeup artists was possibly mad at him. “You…seem upset” He said. 

A sigh followed, “I’m not upset, I just think you should take better care of yourself. Jisung was right, you know? Your face does cost us thousand of won. I understand you’ve just come back from vacation but if you don’t do your job, it’s very difficult for me to do mine”

“Right” He nodded, sudden guilt overwhelming him, “Can I open my eyes now?”

With the confirmation, he did and looked at her, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful in the future” 

She smiled, pulling at his cheek, “It’s good to have you back, kid”

Within seconds, the set jumped back to life. Chan ran onto the stage, getting into his position, and Changbin followed. They were both visibly upset, due to the company not allowing them to sing live, but years in this industry had made them numb to some of that anger. Hyunjin took his place on the stage, as the cameras adjusted and thirty-something people gathered before them, ready to film. He wished he could sneak one look in the mirror before filming, for the reassurance that he didn’t look like a total clown, but he trusted the kind makeup lady. 

“All right, boys” Chan looked at them, microphone stand in his hands, “From the top, yeah?”

The backing track began on cue, and Hyunjin’s heart pounded like it hadn’t in ages. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to do a full-fledged music video shoot so soon after the hiatus. Did he even remember his chords right? The audience may not be looking at his hands, but he sure as hell would be. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a breath, hoping he didn’t mess up for the sake of their team. Millions of people would watch this. Thousands would instantly know they weren’t actually singing, and he had grown tired of the accusations. Most of those people would be rooting for his failure, and he could imagine the myriad of hate comments about how Hyunjin should never have returned to the band. Maybe it was a mistake being back in the spotlight so soon. Chan’s hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He leaned in to whisper, loud enough for only Hyunjin to hear, “Forget everyone else, Jinnie. She’s going to love this”

A surprised smile tugged on Hyunjin’s lips just as the spotlight hit him, and the camera began rolling.

»»————-

Later that night, Jisung crawled into his bed. He pulled the blue comforter off Hyunjin’s aching legs, settling cross-legged across him. The filming had taken a toll on him, and he’d really let himself go when he was away. It usually took a lot more to get him this tired, and he was still adjusting to this new schedule. Jisung leaned against the wall, releasing a sigh of contentment. This had become second nature to them, a routine to sit, talk, and catch up on the past few months of summer. They’d stayed in touch through text, but it wasn’t the same. Some nights, they’d go for a walk, find an open barbecue place, and eat into the early hours of dawn. Other nights, they’d stay in the dorm and order some cheesecake, and Jisung would tell him everything he missed. Every anecdote, each funny moment, painstaking details of how many different ways he’d embarrassed himself. Hyunjin had missed a lot, so he’d sit and listen to the tales of the city that he’d pined for all this while. It was good to return to the life he’d left behind. Everything was different here, and sometimes it felt like summer had existed in a void away from the world. Jisung would also ask him about his hometown, but Hyunjin never knew where to start, so he preferred to listen to Jisung instead. He had a lot more to say anyway. 

Tonight was different. Jisung asked him about you.

And that wasn’t the routine.

“I don’t really know what you want me to tell you” Hyunjin laughed, and they were both tucked into blankets, like kids bonding at their first sleepover. 

“You’ve talked about this girl all freaking summer, and now you have nothing to say?”

“Well, yeah, you already know everything” Hyunjin mumbled, flush rising up. They never had this dynamic before, this…sharing of crushes, or whatever it could be called. Jisung was usually the one in relationships out of the two of them, and Hyunjin would never bug him about it. Not until Jisung told him himself. So, Hyunjin didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah, I know the shortened version you sent over text, but…how’d she react when you said you’re coming back?”

Hyunjin swallowed, memories flashing through his mind of his last night in his hometown, “She was really upset”

“Upset, like…didn’t talk to you kind of upset, or…had sex with you before you left— upset?”

The words sent a flush up Hyunjin’s neck, and he knew this was exactly what Jisung wanted. This was his intention. To embarrass him. To celebrate this new dynamic, when Hyunjin was the one with a stupid crush and not the other way around.

“We didn’t have sex” He clarified. Jisung’s eyes widened, “Really? Not even on the last night?”

Hyunjin leaned his head against the wall, playing with the threads of the blanket. The last night was complicated, for all the right and the wrong reasons, so he settled for the most matter-of-fact answer, “I didn’t have any condoms”

“Shut up, I know that’s not true. I sent you like a huge box your first week in Daejon. Don’t tell me you never used them…”

Hyunjin laughed at the memory, “Thank you for that Jisung, but…I’d already packed it away. I didn’t really expect anything to happen anyway. I thought she’d be too upset at me for leaving”

“So…that’s the only reason?”

Hyunjin swallowed, knowing that if perhaps they’d had an hour longer together that night, things would probably have led straight to that, condoms or no condoms, “Well…we were out of time”

“You spent months with this girl. How were you out of time?”

Hyunjin sighed, “There was no right moment. I didn’t want it to be rushed—”

“No rush? As if you wouldn’t bust a nut as soon as you’re—” Jisung was interrupted with a smack in the face by a pillow, voice turning high, “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”

“I’m not talking about this anymore” Hyunjin laughed, the red reaching the tips of his ears.

“That’s pretty unfair, you know. I used to tell you every detail of my relationship with Mae, down to the nitty-gritty details”

Hyunjin looked up at him. It had been a while since he’d talked about Mae so freely, and he swallowed, “How are you holding up?”

Jisung’s smile fell, humorous demeanour disappearing in seconds, “She’s happy now”

The statement meant so much more than he let on. Happy now. As in, she wasn’t happy before, when she was dating Jisung. Thinking back on it now, their breakup had been explosive, and it seemed like Jisung was still picking up the pieces. Was this what the rest of Hyunjin’s life would look like? Surrounded by miserable relationships destroyed by their careers. He can’t recall the last time he witnessed a love story with a happy ending. He sighed, “That sucks man”

Jisung shrugged, “It is what it is”

Hyunjin stretched out his legs under the blanket, letting out a soft groan, “Man, my limbs haven’t hurt like this in ages”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “You’re getting soft, big boy. We’re hitting the studio tomorrow at six. Album release is only a month away now”

His phone buzzed and he reached for it immediately. “Is that her?” Jisung asked, smiling.

“Yup” Hyunjin typed in a quick text to you, “She’s…telling me about her day”

“Is that all you guys do?” Jisung asked, a smirk on his face, scrolling up on their chats, without permission. He let out a dramatic gasp, “What are you writing her all these long-ass paragraphs for? It feels like I’m reading a book. Big red flag. At least break it up into multiple texts”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I mean, there’s a lot she’s interested to know about my life here. I like telling her what we’re up to. If you see it from an outside perspective, it’s pretty cool. She really loves it”

Jisung laughed, eyebrows wiggling like a kid, “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what she loves”

Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Stop. We’re just…really close friends now”

“Does she know that?”

He didn’t like this conversation anymore and what it implied. He informed him for the umpteenth time, “I told her from the start that I don’t do relationships. She knows.”

Jisung was still scrolling through their chat, probably hoping to find something steamy but stopped at the media that Hyunjin had shared, letting out a gasp, “Wait a minute. Have you been sending her our studio recordings?” 

“Yes” Hyunjin frowned, “She likes those”

“You know, Eunwoo would have a heart attack if he knew you were leaking unreleased music”

Hyunjin sighed. Jisung was always so dramatic. “I’m not leaking anything. It’s only to her. She’s not going to show anyone”

“And how do you know that?”

“I trust her” Hyunjin’s reply was automatic, “More than anything”

Jisung smiled, eyes crinkling, tilting his head, “Even more than me?”

He chuckled, grabbing his phone back, “Shut up”

»»————-

He had been waking up earlier than usual, and he’d find himself at the kitchen table first thing in the morning, watching the sun rise through their apartment window. It was always fun to greet the boys as soon as they woke. He’d missed them for so long and he was trying to cherish every moment with them. Jisung would joke about how obsessed he was with them, often hovering like a parent around the house in the morning, waiting for their kids to wake up. It was strange because Hyunjin wasn’t an early riser, but his thirst to spend time with them overpowered his desire to lay in bed. He sat at the kitchen island scribbling ideas in a little journal Changbin bought him. It had admittedly become his diary, filled with crazy ideas, midnight thoughts, and sketches for paintings. 

The dance practices had got easier in the past weeks, and his limbs felt lighter. It almost took no time for him to get back to normal, sucked into the whirlpool of obligations that his life offered. There were so many interviews, press junkets, editorials, and he was back in the studio every night. He’d missed that grandly — getting to work on the music and, for the first time, writing his songs into the album. All of that made everything else worth it — like when they couldn’t leave their dorm because it was surrounded by paparazzi. They’d crowded around the building, hoping to get a glimpse at or any comments out of Jisung. Unfortunately, Jisung was still in the middle of a huge legal battle with the media that had leaked every detail of his personal life and relationship. Hyunjin didn’t understand how Jisung managed to still be so sane, after something like that rocked his world.

But slowly, he carved time in his life to start painting again, between schedules of course. An art shop in Hongdae was perfect for his needs. It was small and convenient, and he could be away from the public eye when he was in it. He found time for you. In changing rooms, backstage, in five-minute breathers between practice, he’d text you when he could. 

“You’re up early” Chan smiled, and Hyunjin looked up at him. He was already dressed, and he moved towards the light switch, turning them on, “You’re drawing in the dark?”

“It’s peaceful” Hyunjin hummed, “On set…it’s always too bright”

“Ah. Right. What are you sketching this time?” Chan moved over to him, glimpsing into his diary. 

“Just…a rough map of home. I’m writing down all the places, I wanna remember it. I don’t know when I’ll go back”

Chan smiled thoughtfully, “Is that your plan for the day?”

“No, actually, I was just about to head out to buy some flowers. I really want to draw some white hydrangeas, they won’t be in bloom for longer, and I’m hoping I can capture their whole life cycle”

Chan laughed, “Wow. It’s only six am and you’re already talking romance”

Hyunjin flushed, “It’s just for my drawings. I want to get better at observation. Speaking of, can I come watch you in the gym later? I…think I’ll draw you next”

Chan moved around the island, prepping a morning smoothie, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Jinnie”

“Of course not” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, continuing to add details to his little map, right now he was adding the 7/11 between your house and Aera’s. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be possible Jinnie. And…you’re probably gonna have to get the flowers tomorrow” Chan suddenly said, filling up the blender with ingredients.

Hyunjin frowned, “What do you mean?” But of course, Chan turned the blender on right then, so Hyunijn had to wait until he was done to find out. The loud whizzing sound filled the kitchen, and if the other boys weren’t up yet, they certainly would be now.

“Sorry about that” Chan apologised sheepishly, pouring the smoothie into four cups, and then eyed Hyunjin’s pajamas, “You should change into a coat, something warm. It’s chilly out”

Hyunjin tilt his head, suspicious, “Why?”

Chan slid him the smoothie, which Hyunjin hadn’t even asked for, and then grinned, “I’m kidnapping you”

“What?” He laughed, reaching for the cup anyway. He might as well start drinking healthy.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Jinnie. She’s a prodigy, she owns like a gazillion art galleries across the country, and she wants to meet you”

“Since when are you interested in art?” Hyunjin hummed, trying not to gag at the taste of the drink. It was all protein powder and whey. Chan smiled at the sight, leaning forward on the counter, “Since my best friend started drawing masterpieces, of course. Go get changed. I’ll drive us there, and if we have time before going to set, we just might be able to buy your flowers”

»»————-

The paintings in the art gallery were beautiful, and Chan was a good sport, taking just enough interest in the art that Hyunjin felt important in explaining all the techniques. They’d wandered around for a while now, eyeing every exhibition. Enough time had passed as they stood observing the room of sculptures, and Chan nudged him. He was diverting his attention to a woman with a tablet in hand as she walked around the space. The apparent prodigy. She seemed busy, pushing buttons on the tablet as she inventoried the place, a flurry of rich visitors following her around. Hyunjin had seen her before, and he asked, “Does she work in our building by any chance?”

“She certainly does. Hey, Karina!” He suddenly called out, “This is Hyunjin”

Hyunjin went wide-eyed and awkward, certainly unprepared to meet someone so important out of the blue, but Karina seemed sweet enough. Her gaze caught his, widening when she noticed them. She whispered something to her über important guests, and then walked over to them, all prim and poise. She certainly looked the part of an art gallery owner, although Hyunjin had never seen one so young before. She shot him a smile, “Ah. I’ve heard so much about you, Hyunjin”

“Oh no” Hyunjin had a funny feeling in his stomach, “What did Chan say?”

She laughed, “Nothing too bad. He showed me some of your work”

“He what?” Hyunjin cringed, “I’m sorry about that”

She laughed again, “Don’t apologise. Your work’s pretty good. Even before Chan, you were kind of hard to miss actually. Your face is plastered all across the company building”

Hyunjin cringed yet again, clasping his hands together, “I’m…sorry about that. That’s embarrassing”

She laughed, “Not at all. So…do you like the collection?”

Hyunjin looked around, nodding, “Oh. Of course! It’s beautiful. I love the exhibit, and I can’t believe you have some Monet up too. That must have been hard to get”

She tilt her head, an admiring smile on her face, “It certainly was. The job’s not easy, but I enjoy it a lot. We try to stick to contemporary work, switching up exhibits every month or so. You’re lucky you caught us during Monet. We’re having those shipped back to Paris soon”

Hyunjin nodded, hands slipping into his pockets, “Paris. Wow…”

“Actually I don’t have too much time, so I’m going to cut to the chase” She smiled, “The reason I asked Chan if I could meet you was…if you’d ever be interested, I wouldn’t be opposed to hosting an exhibition for your work”

His eyes widened, a surprised chuckle escaping him, “What? I’m literally just starting out. Experimenting…I don’t even have a specific art style yet or much original work…”

Karina shook her head as if all of that was an afterthought, “We already know it’ll be a hit. You’re very loved, especially in Seoul”

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would an actual, real-life gallery ever want to exhibit his work? He barely had work to begin with! All he’d done was post a few artworks on his Instagram, and mentioned that he liked drawing in an interview, “But I’m not a professional, by any means, I just…do it because I enjoy it”

She smiled, “Precisely. It’d be nice to give new artists a voice. Sooner or later, some art gallery is going to snatch you up. I’d prefer if we were the first. There’s a lot of interest in you by the public. It’d be a loss to not display your work. If there’s anything I learnt from Kim Jieong it was—”

“Wait, you know Kim Jieong?” Hyunjin forgot his manners, interrupting her, especially in such an excitement, but he couldn’t help himself.

Karina laughed, eyes narrowing, “Are you a fan?”

“No, but my girlfr-“ Hyunjin stopped in his sentence, clearing his throat, and he could feel Chan’s gaze burn curiously into him, “Um…one of my friends is. He’s her favourite artist in the world”

“Well…I wouldn’t give him so much credit” Karina spoke, clutching the tablet tightly, “But yes, I used to intern with him earlier”

He was too straightforward, but he didn’t care, “Do you think you could help me get in touch with him? I’m sorry, I realise that’s a big favour and—”

Her expression changed, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. My relationship with Jieong…is complicated. But, if you’d really like maybe I could help you set up a meeting or something”

“Really?” His eyes lit up, and the conversation had completely sidetracked but it didn’t matter, “That would mean everything to me. Thank you”

“Of course. I can’t promise anything. This may be TMI, but he and I aren’t on the best terms. He is a wonderful artist though. I’ll give him that”

“Thank you, Karina” He smiled, genuinely. A security guard came up, tapping her on the shoulder. She nodded at him, and then looked back at Hyunjin, “I'm sorry I have to get going, there's been an incident involving a spill in the impressionist gallery …but the offer’s always up for the exhibition, by the way. Eunwoo could give you my contact details. I think you’d made a great addition to my portfolio, Hyunjin”

He smiled, but all he could focus on was that she knew Kim Jieong. Hope festered in his heart that maybe now he could finally get you the chance you deserved.

»»————-

The Hydrangeas bloomed beautifully on Hyunjin’s desk. He’d been drawing them all afternoon, and he looked forward to seeing their state change as he came home each night from work. It felt silly, but summer flowers reminded him of you. The vase needed fresh water, and he stopped sketching to go up to the kitchen and fill it up. The boys were gathered around the dining table, just about to head out to the studio, and Chan was preparing cocktails. Hyunijn switched on the water tap, absentmindedly watching the vase fill up, listening to their conversations. 

Karina still hadn’t got back to him, but he was holding onto hope. It had only been a week since their conversation after all. His days since then had been busy so he couldn't worry too much about it, occupied by schedules, he’d also managed to squeeze in time for himself now. It seemed like going back to his hometown had been genuinely helpful. It had fulfilled its purpose. He’d come back to work, feeling a new kick in energy and joie de vivre. There was hardly any sadness like before, and that's all Hyunjin could have asked for from his little vacation anyway.

Since his return, there had been some changes to the company too. He’d discovered a new library, hidden in their building, somewhere on the fourth floor, and he’d been frequenting it during his breaks. Every morning, he picked a new book to read and would fixate on it for the next week and a half. Barely any employees ever came to the library, other than HR sometimes, and it was a nice escape. He could imagine that you’d really love the library, full of nooks and crannies begging to be found and thousands of books aching to be read.

He discovered he had an affinity for poetry, and some poems never left his mind. There was one in particular by Kim Yong-Taek that occupied all the space in his head. 

눈 내리기 전에 / Before the snow falls,  한번 보고 싶습니다 / I would love to see you.

They felt real, as if they’d been written only for him, and shivers often ran up his skin as he stood reading them quietly, a deep ache in his heart at the familiarity of the words. It was crazy that something written hundreds of years ago could capture exactly what Hyunjin was feeling right now. He hoped he could make music that felt the same to others. The longing in his bones only got worse each day, and he was making a plan to fix it. Summer had been beautiful, even contending for his favourite season, but it was ending, and he would do anything to make autumn just as beautiful.

»»————-

Sleep clouded his vision, the song's melody blending with his drowsiness. It had been a week of rerecordings and they’d barely got any rest. Hyunjin tugged the headphones off, glancing at Chan through the observation window, “Was that a good take?”

Chan gave him a thumbs up through the window. His energy had been deflated too, but Hyunjin was hoping for a better response, “Are you sure? I can do another take. I think…it doesn’t sound as emotional as Jisung’s verse”

Hyunjin could only just about see Chan’s eyes, squinted over the mask he wore. The decision to cover his face was obvious; there was a little camera propped up in the studio, a way to film behind-the-scenes content for when the album finally released. Chan obviously didn’t want to be captured in this sleep-deprived state. Still, Hyunjin would have loved to see his expression, the microscopic changes in his face would tell him if he really loved the recording or not.

Chan nodded, weary eyes, “If you think you can do a better take, go for it, Hyunjin”

So he did, inhaling a breathful of air so he wouldn’t falter during his lines. He’d sounded too emotionless and mechanical and they were recording a love song. He had to pour his feelings into it, so he closed his eyes. The lyrics were embedded into his brain anyway. 

Chan began the backing track, and Hyunjin let his thoughts drift... They wandered into a familiar memory, one he usually saved for bedtime and when he was alone. His mind kept coming back to it. It was so fresh, but each day it was fading away, slipping out of his grasp and he felt the need to bottle up the memory and store it in a safe forever, where it would always be remembered. The twinkling fairy lights of the Château, the blue paint puddle on the floor, the paint you spilled on his shirt, the heated and frenzied first, second…and third kisses. The moment had been so short-lived. He had been so vulnerable that night. You’d seen him that night, truly seen him, and he still felt surprised at how much he’d divulged in you so easily. It was the realest he’d ever felt, like the rest of his life before and after was just a charade for his friends, for the cameras, for himself.

Maybe it was only with you that he was the real Hyunjin. The teasing and laughs over the chocolate strawberries and paint easels had been second nature and strangely familiar, like it wasn’t your first time doing this together, as if you had both been falling into patterns and habits of centuries ago. The most innocent actions felt crude, and cruel. Crude to kiss your cheek but not take it further. Cruel to give in to a desire he could never fulfil. Maybe every other moment in his life had been fabricated except for that night, that would explain why he was the happiest then. 

“Shit…what was that?” A voice interrupted him. Hyunjin snapped open his eyes to see Chan staring at him in disbelief. The backing track had gone onto the next verse now. He cleared his throat, “Um. Sorry I….spaced out. Let me record that again”

“Are you kidding me? That’s the best take you’ve ever given us” Chan laughed, in disbelief, stepping into the recording booth, “You sold that to me completely, Fuck. You almost made me tear up. You should do more ballads, Jinnie. That was amazing”

Hyunjin blinked at him, holding onto his headphones tightly, so unaware of himself, “I…I didn’t realise it was that good”

“Come on. Listen to it” Chan grabbed his arm, leading him out, and replaying what had just been recorded. Hyunjin almost didn’t recognise himself singing. He’d never sang like this before. Goosebumps rippled up his arms and neck, and he looked at Chan, “You’re right. That one turned out…really good”

“Damn. You can convince the audience that you’ve lived a thousand lives, been through a hundred heartbreaks. You convinced me. That was so real”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, and he pushed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, “It felt real to me too”

Chan wrapped up the recording, and then happily turned the company camera off, “Do you know what this means, Jinnie?”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, grateful they weren’t being recorded anymore. 

Chan stepped closer to him, a growing smile on his face, “We fucking finished this album, baby”

»»————-

Hyunjin was changing the water in the vase. He’d been desperately trying to keep the Hydrangeas alive, but that had been a failing task. So he’d found some time to buy some Cosmos, hoping he could draw them instead. It was almost autumn now, and the flower in bloom had changed, so he kept trying to adjust to it. It was harder than he thought. Chan's voice distracted him, “Are you coming to dinner with us? We’re thinking of trying that new Italian place”. Hyunjin looked up at him, “Shit. Is it okay if I bail? I was going to call Y/N later tonight. She wanted to paint together”

His eyebrows shot up, a small smile on his face, “Paint together? Is that a euphemism?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, switching the water tap off, “No. It's obviously not”

“Wouldn’t you love if it was?” Jisung smirked at him, walking into the kitchen. It seemed like all their serious, and unserious conversations often took place in this kitchen, their one common space. Chan laughed, “So how long will your paint date last? Should we bring you any takeout pizza?”

Hyunjin shrugged, glancing at the clock, “No, that’s okay, I’m not hungry. It’ll last a few hours maybe. Next week we’re going to be so busy with the press tour, I was hoping to finish a whole painting tonight. It’s easier if I’m doing it with her. I’m just more motivated then”

“There’s a word for that, you know?” Chan leaned forward on the counter, a teasing smile on his face, “She’s your proper muse”

Hyunjin laughed, not expecting him to say that, but he had been thinking about it. After all, that’s what had made the recordings so much easier. He was singing with you in mind. He denied it, “That’s really cheesy, even for you, Chan…”

“Eh, but it’s true. You should tell her that tonight”

Hyunjin smiled, already imagining your reaction to such a thing. He wouldn’t even know how he’d bring it up. Wouldn’t it be too much? Would you be embarrassed? He could recall all the times he’d catch you off guard with his compliments back in Daejon, your expression as if he’d said the most insane thing ever when Hyunjin was just appreciating you. Fuck. He really needed to see that reaction in person again. 

Every perfect summer memory only added to the weight of his longing in fall, and he decided it was time, “I’m gonna invite her to come to Seoul”

Changbin stood across the hall, having just come out of his room to catch the last bit of conversation. His eyebrows shot up, “You are…?”

Hyunjin swallowed, catching the boys' reactions as he revealed the plan, “I just bought the train tickets for her this morning, and while she's here she can stay in an apartment I rented out for her. It’s a few blocks away from ours, so she’s close enough to me, without it being suspicious”

Jisung frowned, “But if you rented it, your name would go down in the record”

“No, I already thought of that. I asked to use my aunt’s credit card, and she’s not a Hwang, so there won’t be any trace back to me”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, “You really thought of everything, huh? No loopholes?”

“No loopholes” Hyunjin nodded, hoping they’d approve of it because something like this would put them all under scrutiny and risk, “Well, as long as she says yes”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Changbin frowned, crossing his arms, “If I was her, I’d jump at the chance”

“Yeah, I know you would. There’s an apprenticeship she wanted in the city…but she didn’t get it yet. She may not want to come here anymore…in case it reminds her of that”

“Is there any chance she can still get it?”

Hyunjin shrugged, placing his palms on the counter as he thought over it, “I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to figure it out”

Chan sighed, seeing his dilemma, “Hey, if it’s in the stars…she’ll get it. She seems talented enough from what you tell me about her”

“She’s hellbent on believing she can’t get it. I’m going to try to convince her to apply again. It’s kind of frustrating. Without connections, it’s so hard to make anything out of it. I mean, when we were at the gallery, you introduced me to Karina. It was so easy. She saw my work, and immediately agreed to a fucking exhibition. Sometimes it feels kind of unfair. What did I do to deserve that? I know there are hundreds of artists better than me who should be getting exhibitions, but…I’m getting it just because I’m famous. It feels weird and privileged”

Chan sighed, “Hyun…I know what you mean, but…it’s unfortunately how things are. And it’s not like you’re misusing this. The fact that you recognise it in the first place is sometimes all we can do”

Hyunjin let out an exhale, staring off into the distance, when his phone pinged. It was a text from you.

hey! im all set up here. ready when you are :)

Chan grinned, handing him a cocktail he’d just made, “Go on then. We’ll head to dinner and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Hyunjin smiled, rushing back to his room. In anticipation of this call, he’d already set up his work area. Ever since he’d been back, he hadn’t gotten too much time talking to you, so he would make the most of it. He set his glass down next to his MacBook, and laid out his canvas. Through the computer screen, he could see a glimpse of your room, which was messier than his. It had more personality, and it was more lived in. He realised he’d never had a chance to come to your place. He had a sudden urge to see how you set up your room and things, your little knick-knacks, the big teddy he won for you, your artwork curated over years. But from hundreds of miles of away, he could only see a little square of your life. You were biting down on a chip when he spoke, “I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan”

Your face changed, lighting up, “Yeah?” 

The connection wasn’t great, so all your responses were delayed, but Hyunjin hummed, proud, “It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”

“When can I hear it?” 

He laughed at your eagerness, “We’re still writing it”

You nodded, going back to painting. He would surprise you soon with the ticket he bought you to Seoul, but he wanted to build up to it. Perhaps he could do a grand gesture, or leave you little hints to keep you wondering. He could only imagine how happy you’d be. He could show you his favourite places in the city, introduce you to the boys and you could finally see his life, in all it’s glory. It only felt fair after you’d let him into yours so warmly. He had fit into your life in town so easily, a puzzle piece falling into place, and he hoped he could make it the same for you. Obviously, there’d be less freedom, more restrictions but at least you wouldn’t be a stranger to his lifestyle anymore. Hyunjin took a moment to sip his drink, staring at his own work. getting the courage to say it, “Can I say something cheesy?”

“Yeah?”

He leaned over the webcam, so he could be infinitesimally closer to you, cheeks reddening, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”

He watched as you sat on your knees, curious, “What do you think about?”

He flushed, regretting how this made him sound so romantic when he wasn't trying to be, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”

He saw your eyes widen, and a deep emotion overwhelmed you. He didn’t see you react more, and he wondered what this meant to you, what he meant to you right now, even so far away. You didn't say anything back. You must be holding it all in, just like him. Maybe you didn’t know how to put your thoughts into words. He couldn't blame you. Even after reading all the poems in the world, Hyunjin didn’t have the words either. Not enough anyway.

»»————-

It was supposed to be an informal gathering to celebrate the album, but it felt more like a full-fledged party. Their manager’s apartment had been completely transformed, no empty floor space as everybody from the company had gathered around for a hurrah. Hyunjin had a few drinks in his system already, enough to get him really going. He stood away from the crowd, tucked into a corner, phone pulled out, typing in a ridiculously cheesy message to you. The party was great, and he was so happy to have finished the album. All that was missing was you. The text started sounding far too cheesy, inspired by the love rot that the poetry books had filled in his brain, and slowly, it became more and more unhinged. The wine Chan brought must have got to his head, but he couldn't stop, all of his thoughts pouring out in a mixture of sentences that didn't really make any sense.

I want you here with me at this party. Fuck, it’s so dull without you. If you were here, we could just sneak off and…I would kiss you. Positively. My manager is here, the scary one, but he doesn’t have to know. Earlier, I was reading a book and there was an English word in it that reminded me of you. Saudade. I looked it up because I was so curious and it said it’s a state of melancholy for a beloved someone or something. I think that explains this ridiculous feeling I have when I think of you. I have it even when I’m not thinking of you. Like last week, when we were recording this one song. It’s like you’re here with me in everything. I guess what I’m saying is, I just want to kiss you really really badly and fuck I’m really drunk so I’m sorry for how this may sound but I just really need to feel you—

The phone was snatched from his hands, Changbin squinting to read the message, “Who are you texting in the middle of our party?”

Hyunjin flushed red. He was really drunk but he still noticed their manager to the side, and hushed, “Keep your voice down, Binnie”

He looked up, eyes wide, “Is this your idea of a sext?”

“What? no— it’s not a sext. I’m not sexting, what the hell”

“You’re like…weirdly poetic when you’re drunk”

Hyunjin closed his eyes, “Just…give me that”

He deleted the message. 

It was a bad idea to be sending you drunk messages anyway. He should just call you instead. Yeah. That sounded like a smarter, much better idea. Before he could dial your number, Changbin pulled him to the living room, and Hyunjin let himself be tugged along. Jisung was standing shirtless there, liquid smeared down his chest and abs. He was laughing, hair all messed up, clearly very tipsy, “Come on! Who’s next?”

Hyunjin did not intend to be a part of whatever this was, but Changbin pushed him ahead, “He’s up” But they were surrounded by company employees. Even the girl from the art gallery, Karina, was here and he flushed from the embarrassment. “I don’t even know what we’re doing” Hyunjin chuckled nervously, as Changbin hoisted him up over the table, handing him a quick shot to get the nerves out. Hyunjin downed it in a single sip, the liquid burning his throat. The state of his sobriety stopped him from protesting too much, until Jisung explained, “Body shots, of course. Pick your contender, Jinnie”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, looking around the bunch of people, none of whom he felt comfortable touching him, but he saw a few of the women shy away, “I…I don’t know”

“I’ll do it” Chan laughed, stepping ahead from the crowd, “If that’s okay with you”

Jisung certainly seemed to have enjoyed it, and he wanted to give it a shot. He could be chill with this, but he would definitely blame the alcohol in him for how easily he went down on the table, and how easily he let Chan unbutton his black shirt. The overhead lights were too bright and Hyunjin closed his eyes, and his head was spinning. The music was pounding in his ears, the marble countertop cold to his back.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this” He laughed to himself, swept up in the environment as Changbin dripped tequila over his stomach. The chill liquid tickled him and he immediately squirmed, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt embarrassed for his reaction. Clearly, he was a novice to this party celebration, but he was also enjoying the attention.

“You ready, Jinnie?” Chan asked, looking up at him with a comforting smile. Chan was definitely drunk too in order to pull a stunt like this in front of the employees. They were absolutely loving it though and he could hear them all cheer them on. They never got to see the members in a more unprofessional environment than this one, and Hyunjin hoped none of them changed their opinion of him after this. He gave a quick thumbs up, facing the ceiling as he felt Chan’s mouth near his stomach. He sucked in a breath in anticipation, cheeks flushing from all this attention. He was used to people’s eyes on him, but this was so different and intimate. Somehow, his self-conscious part disappeared just as Chan licked a stripe of tequila up Hyunjin’s torso. He squirmed, a giggle escaping at the ticklish feeling, and Chan held him down, hand on his thigh, laughing, “Stop moving! You’ll get it on the table!”

Hyunjin stilled with the threat of ruining their manager’s table, eyes still closed as Chan finished licking the rest up until his chest, and his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t help but imagine this situation differently. Would you have partaken in this with him? How would that have looked like? If it was you doing this to him, instead of Chan? The little party activity would definitely have turned into something else by the end of it…and he knows he definitely would not be able to resist, not when your tongue was on his stomach and you were so close to him. The image sent a rush of blood through his body, thoughts that he should definitely not be indulging in when his best friend was doing body shots off him, and Hyunjin immediately sat up, bumping his head right into Chan’s. “Ouch!” Chan exclaimed, clutching his forehead, “Careful, Jin!”

“Um, sorry” He swallowed, jumping off the counter, embarrassment lingering from how he'd stupidly turned himself on in front of everyone he knew, “I felt sick”

“No worries” Chan laughed, oblivious to his friend's thoughts, patting his shoulder as everybody around them continued cheering them on, “You did good”

Hyunjin walked away, feeling sticky now, and he tried to wipe off the remaining with a kitchen towel. If it was you, he would have let you go all the way, until every stripe of tequila was gone from his body. And then some more.

He buttoned his shirt up again, hands shaking from the buzz, blood rushing to the parts that needed his attention. He needed to hear your voice. You didn’t even know he was at this party. It was so inconvenient to be so far away, trying to convey all that he felt through a mere text or phone call. He stood to the side, shaky fingers pulling up your contact until he heard your voice on the other end. “Guess what?” Hyunjin grinned.

“What?” Your voice was soft on the other end, so calm, grounding him in his drunkenness. A stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of his party and he could think straight again. Hyunjin smiled, “We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready. We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”

He felt excited to hear your reaction. He was grinning ear to ear, as you congratulated him. He’d heard that today many times, but hearing it from you was incomparable. You were proud of him. He giggled, stumbling out of the hallway, blood rushing to his head, “Jisung made me drink…far too much. I liked the wine, though; Chan found it in this cool store, but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of —” 

“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him.

Hyunjin nodded, walking around, trying to avoid anybody being able to pick up on his conversation. So many people were in this tiny apartment, and he wished he had more peace and quiet to talk to you. “It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”

“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke.

“Sorry” He apologised, walking off towards the balcony, “Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, I can”

“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He mumbled, voice dropping, and the rest of this party was fading from his vision, tunnel vision to you and your voice on the other end, “Why aren’t you here?”

Hyunjin thinks the only way he can stop missing you is if you start visiting him in your dreams. He wonders what sorcery he needs to do for that to happen. Could he visit you in your dreams? So you never grow apart, and find each other every single night. “I miss you too….but you should get back to the party—”

Hyunjin failed to notice Changbin creeping up on him, taking the phone away, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?”

“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin sighed, all his poetic declarations disappearing into the void. At this point, he thinks he needs to maintain another diary just to write all the things he wishes to say to you but never does.

“Hey!” Changbin was talking to you, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”

“Stop!” Hyunjin exclaimed, realising their managers stood nearby and the commotion had caught their ears, “Don’t announce it to the entire party.” Changbin laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”

“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin tried to grab it.

“Let me finish!” Changbin laughed. Hyunjin’s head began to ache when he saw Jisung approach their chaos, “Fuck. Is that her?”

“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” He sounded like a broken record, like all his primary functions had ceased and wouldn’t function until he heard your voice again. “Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?” Jisung asked, loudly. It was loud enough that their managers heard it, ears perking up and glancing at Hyunjin. One of their managers, Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. This was the first he’d heard of this, and goosebumps rippled up Hyunjin’s neck at what this could mean.

His voice dropped, stepping back towards his meddling friends, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”

“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted, oblivious to his surroundings. Hyunjin yanked the phone back, and he was pissed, but he wouldn’t blame them. They were only messing about. He let out a breath, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”

Your voice sounded far away, resigned, “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You should enjoy the party, Hyun” Panic built up in his throat at the thought of you leaving, “No, no, I called you because I missed you”

“I can’t really even hear you,” You said, crushing his heart and soul to irreparable pieces. Maybe he was being dramatic, but perhaps he needed you to breathe, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”

Hyunjin was ready to protest, bear his heart out to keep you a little while longer. What was the point of celebrating his success if he couldn't share it with you right now? Isn't that why he'd pushed himself so hard this time? So he could impress you with all the songs he'd written with only you in mind. He’d leave the party if he had to, just so you wouldn’t go. Before he could declare his insanity of wanting to talk to you, Eunwoo stepped closer to him. His eyes were narrowed, a tell-tale sign, disapproving head tilt. Hyunjin had lost the opportunity, and he said, “All right. I’ll call you later”

With no qualms about destroying the party's vibe, Eunwoo asked curiously, “Who are you talking to?”

“Nobody” Hyunjin panicked, hanging up. He shoved the phone into his pocket, and it burned into him. Eunwoo sighed, “I heard Jisung mention a girlfriend. Is there something you want to share?”

He shook his head, unease settling into him or maybe he was just about to throw the fuck up, “Can we…not talk about this right now? I mean, we’re at a party”

Eunwoo stared at him, as if dissecting all of Hyunjin's deepest, darkest secrets, gaze burning through him. Then he nodded with a smile, “Of course, Hyunjin. You should celebrate”

Hyunjin’s nerves calmed down and he began walking away. Maybe now he could return to enjoying the rest of the night.  But of course, Eunwoo stopped him, hand over his shoulder “We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning though. I want to see you seven AM, in my office”

Hyunjin suppressed a groan, bile rising up his throat at what this could possibly mean, “Oh. Okay”

Eunwoo patted his shoulder, before walking back to the party, “Don’t be late, Hwang”

»»————-

He definitely didn’t feel human stepping into the office, a mere three hours later. He hadn’t got any sleep. He had just enough time to head home, shower, and wipe the remnants of tequila off his stomach before heading here. The body shots didn’t sound like a great idea now. His shirt was sticky and ruined. His head hurt, and he was surprised that Eunwoo wasn’t hungover. He’d probably gouged on hangover soup last night, and he sat in a crisp suit-and-tie across the table. He looked up at him, cheery smile, “Morning, Hwang”

Hyunjin sat in the uncomfortable office chair, squinting against the lights that hurt his sensitive eyes, “Good morning…”

“Did you have a good time at the party last night?”

Hyunjin nodded, putting on a smile, “Yes. It was nice”

Eunwoo was their nicest manager, he’s the only reason Hyunjin had been able to go back home and he certainly liked him the most. He was miles better than Kim Soohyun, the guy who basically decided Hyunjin’s life. But now…it seemed like Eunwoo had been sent by his higher-ups to sweet-talk Hyunjin, “You certainly seemed to enjoy it, but sadly, I didn’t see too much of you. We would have liked to get a drink with you”

“Ah, I was with the boys most of the night” He answered. Could this meeting not have been an email? His head was pounding and he couldn’t focus on anything.

Eunwoo tilt his head, picking up on his irritation, “Say it. Whatever’s on your mind”

“No disrespect. I…just don’t understand why we need to talk about this right now”

“Why? Because it’s a Sunday and most people don’t have to go to work today, or because you drank too much last night?” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. There was a stress ball in his hands and Eunwoo kept tossing it back and forth. 

Hyunjin bit his lip, “No, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired”

“Because it may be a day off for everyone in the country, but not for you. I’m sure you’re aware of that. After all, superstars don’t get to where they are by slacking off”

Hyunjin frowned, “I understand. Is there a specific reason you wanted to see me today?”

Eunwoo put down the stress ball in his hands, expression suddenly turning serious, “Look, kid. If I could turn a blind eye to this, I would. Trust me. I hate doing this as much as you hate hearing it, but Kim Soohyun was at the party too. He overheard things. I’m accountable to him, and you’re accountable to me”

Hyunjin sank into his seat, “So…am I in trouble or something?”

Eunwoo clasped his hands, “Depends…did you do something to get you into trouble?”

“No, I didn’t, Eunwoo”

He leaned forward on the desk, hands folded under his chin, “There was quite a lot of talk about a girlfriend last night. You never mentioned that to me”

Hyunjin let out a sigh, “There’s no girlfriend. The boys were dicking around”

Eunwoo gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Then, who were you talking to? On the phone when I saw you? Surely your parents wouldn't be awake that late”

“Just…a friend from back home. They’re not important”

“Look, Hyunjin. I hate to pry. Your personal life is entirely yours but not when it concerns your image or the company, or god forbid, the media. If you are dating somebody, you have to let me know so I can be prepared for when it eventually gets out to the media”

Hyunjin’s head began to hurt exponentially more and maybe he should never have called you last night, “I’m not dating anybody, Eunwoo”

Eunwoo nodded. Clearly, he didn’t believe him. He’d known and managed Hyunjin for years. He'd known him since he was fifteen. He could see right through him and wished he was a better liar. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that”

Hyunjin sighed, sitting up straighter as if that could convince him better, “She’s just an old friend, from back home”

Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, and then leaned back in his chair, “Okay, I’ll believe you. I hope you’ve already passed along the contract to her”

He frowned, “What, the NDA? I’m not dating her, why does she have to sign it?”

“Well yes, you’re not, but clearly you and her are close if you’re drunk calling her from a work party. She could have the wrong idea, if she goes around telling people a different story…that’ll be a problem”

“She is not going to tell anyone”

“You don’t know what girls can be capable of to get fame. An argument with you, if someone bribes her, if she sees any opportunity, she could go to the media—”

“Y/N is not like that” Hyunjin interrupted, a surge of bitterness ripping through at the assumptions.

Eunwoo’s eyebrows shot up, “Y/N…that’s her name”

He wished he could take back that information. It was too late. He released a breath, “Look, you’re not making her sign any contracts. We’re not romantically involved. There are no legal obligations. Am I not even allowed to have fucking friends anymore?”

Eunwoo closed his eyes, “Don’t get angry on me, Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. This is how it’s been for years. The rules won’t change for you. It’s going to be difficult to manage these rumors after you already took half a year off to yourself and with Jisung’s trial and Chan and Kairi’s…whatever the hell they’re doing. You say you’re not dating this girl, I’m going to trust you on that. But if at any point that changes or the girl goes to the news, the company will have to step in. For example, she talks to somebody about her…special friendship with you. Kim Soohyun won’t think twice before suing her for defamation”

Hyunjin saw red, and he clenched his fists as to not react. Defamation? “I get it, Eunwoo”

He nodded, putting a document on the table and sliding it to him, “If anything changes, you have to let me know. I have to be ready to release a statement”

“What, a statement…for what?” Hyunjin stared at the files. An NDA and a press release statement. This was absolutely insane. Nothing had even happened, and they were preparing for the worst case scenario. No, they were waiting for it. 

“You’ve been in this industry long enough, Hwang. We must inform the public and fanbase…if you’re in a relationship. If we keep it to ourselves and it gets out anyway, the backlash would be immense. Now, don’t worry. We can always try to keep her identity secret if you’re worried about her safety and with threats and everything, but—”

Hyunjin stood up in panic, blood rushing to his head, “That’s not happening. There’s not gonna be any threats to her…or announcements”

Eunwoo looked up at him, blinking blankly, “Okay… I appreciate the sentiment but that’s not entirely in your hands. The press tour starts today. All eyes are going to be on the four of you. The whole damn country is talking about you, Hyunjin. We can’t afford a scandal. Kim Soohyun has me in a tight grip. I have faith in you that nothing happens to throw that off”

He swallowed, nails digging into his palm from his emotions, “Yeah. It won’t”

Clearly, his plans of bringing you to the city to visit him were down the fucking drain. He’d be lucky if he could even get a phone call with you anymore. 

“Also if you’re using the company phone to stay in contact with her, I suggest you change that. It shouldn’t be traced back to us”

Hyunjin nodded, and he wasn’t even dating you but the worst was already happening. This was what he’d feared the whole time. There was no point. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he asked, “Is that going to be all?”

Eunwoo nodded, “You should take these documents with you, just in case. HR were happy to print them out for me this morning. They also told me you’ve been hanging out in the romance section a lot in the company library”

So he had absolutely no privacy anymore either. Hyunjin snatched the folder, carelessly holding the files in his hand, with no intention of ever using them. He wouldn’t let the press statement or NDA document anywhere near you. In fact, they’d be tossed in the trash as soon as he was home. He headed for the door and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He needed to decompress. He couldn’t show up to practice this pissed and this wound up. He’d explode, and the boys didn’t deserve that. 

Eunwoo’s voice stopped him, “Oh, and congratulations, Hyunjin”

Hyunjin turned around, gripping the doorknob in blind fury. It felt like a taunt, a joke. There was nothing to congratulate him for. He couldn’t even keep his friends close without it exploding into a big deal. What did he even have to be grateful for? He looked right at Eunwoo, and his lack of sleep made him more irritable, “For…what?”

Eunwoo smiled warmly, his entire demeanour changing, “The album pre-sales are the biggest we’ve ever seen. You’re a global superstar now. You should feel very, very lucky, kid"

»»————-

“Can you stand still for me, please?” The assistant responsible for touching up Hyunjin’s face asked. He nodded, letting her put rosy tint on his cheeks, blending it with the contour. He’d been here for what easily felt like hours, and through the mirror he could see that Changbin was just about done with his makeup. 

The week leading up to the release was always the hardest. Somebody tugged at his hair and he resisted the urge to grimace. They didn’t deserve his terrible mood; they were only doing their job. The hairstylist apologised, noticing Hyunjin’s sour expression, “Sorry. Eunwoo said we need to get started on your hair right now; the other boys are already ready.” Hyunjin nodded, letting himself be manhandled by three different women as they struggled to put his hair into braids, “Have you been using the product we gave you?”

“Hmm?”

“Your hair’s thinning out, especially the bleached roots” The lady mumbled, disappointed.

“Yeah, I have” Truthfully he’d forgotten, a grave mistake for someone in his industry, but he’d been too caught up in everything else. His stomach rumbled and he hadn’t had time to grab breakfast this morning, so he looked around until he spotted one of their assistants, “Rowoon, could you please get me some honey butter chips—”

“Stay still, please” The makeup assistant repeated. Hyunjin straightened up, speaking through his teeth, “…or ramyeon?”

Rowoon looked at him through the mirror, eyebrows shooting up, “Um. Are you sure? You have a pre-recording tomorrow”

“I…haven’t eaten since last night” Hyunjin replied.

“Last time you ate it…your face got pretty swollen, and you were pretty beat up about not looking great in the music show” Rowoon said, grimly smiling.

Hyunjin nodded, gut hurting at that memory of his swollen face, “Right. Never mind. Forget it. Thank you”

“How long are we filming for today?” Jisung asked, adjusting his headset in the back. Rowoon looked between them, “Well, you guys are booked until 4 PM”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at his phone. 6:43 am. Fuck.

Changbin walked by, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder, slipping toffees into his palm, “That’ll fill you up before the interviews”. The candy looked less than appetising, but it was his only option, and he reached to eat some, just as the lady stopped him to apply lip tint to his mouth. Today was going to be a long fucking day.

They were almost done with his hair, braiding it at the top of his head, secured with glitter barrettes. It was an elaborate hairstyle, and he feared he’d ruin it if he moved. It was like walking on eggshells, like his slightest touch would crumble things. Well, everything already seemed to be crumbling. Hyunjin hadn’t been in the best of moods since his talk with Eunwoo, and the possibilities of how everything could go wrong loomed over him. The worst he’d feared for was already happening, things set in motion and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it from worsening. The company knew your name. They knew of your existence. They’d already restricted him. There’s no way in hell Hyunjin would be able to bring you to Seoul, much less meet you in this city without a hundred documents or cameras being thrown at you. Slowly, all his happiness that had been built up carefully and precisely, was turning into bitterness.

“Have you seen Chan?” Rowoon asked, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Hyunjin shook his head. He’d been sitting on this chair for forty five minutes straight. How the hell would he know where Chan was? The hunger and frustration was getting to him, and he shook his head, calming himself down.

“May I go now?” He looked up at the hair assistant.

She nodded, “Just no quick movements. The hairspray is still settling in”

Now that he could properly look at himself, it looked good. Having longer hair always set him at the mercy of experimentation for new styles, and often crazy accessories. He smiled at them, pushing the chair back to stand, “Of course. Thank you so much for your hard work. It’s beautiful”

In other circumstances, he’d snap a picture and send you, but…he’d been on eggshells with you too. Inadvertently, the conversation with Eunwoo had created distance. Hyunjin hated that because none of this was your fault. You shouldn’t be subject to this silence from him, but he was constantly looking over his shoulder, paranoid that he’d be caught and it was getting tiring. His carelessness at the party had led to this. He wanted to fully blame himself for not having any self-control when he drunk called you. Yet, a part of him knew that even without the doomed phone call, somehow everybody would have found out anyway. It was only a matter of time. Things never stayed stable for too long in his life.

He walked into the hallway, hoping to find an empty room. There were usually a few reserved for stage props. He could have a few moments to himself, just to talk to you. That could calm him down, and he could apologise for his distance. He didn’t know how he’d begin to explain what was happening to you. To anybody else, it’d seem like he was pushing you away and he hoped you understood that it was never his intention.

A door was ajar, sliver of light leaking out into the hallway. He stopped in his tracks, familiar voices inside. He didn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they were so loud, “What do you want me to say? I’m doing absolutely everything I can! Jisung’s trial is already—”

“Don’t bring Jisung into this…” Kairi’s exasperated voice interrupted, “What’s going on with him is different. You always do this, Chris! Why are you making this your problem?”

“I’m sorry? They’re my bandmates. They’re my friends. Of course I’m going to take their burden!”

“Jisung is an adult, he’s perfectly capable of—“

“I made a promise to all of them, Kairi. I’m not jumping ship when they need me the most” Chan sounded so frustrated.

She groaned, “I’m not asking you to jump ship. But Chris you haven’t slept in three fucking days! You’re…barely eating. This is not living”

Hyunjin didn’t know that, and his blood ran cold at the information as Chan replied, “This isn’t your problem Kairi. It’s…my problem to deal with. I have to make sacrifices—”

“I had to quit my job because of you, Chris!” She trailed off, Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and he flinched at the aggressive tone. He wasn’t new to their arguments, especially over the last month, but none were like this. This felt like the culmination of something that had been building for months, even years. Kairi was always so sweet, and her volume returned to normal, “I mean…I had to quit because of us. I made sacrifices too. So yes, it is my problem”

Chan’s voice dropped, “Well, I don’t want you to make sacrifices for me”

“That’s what people do when they love each other. I’m sorry but that’s just a reality you’re going to have to accept Chris”

“Do we…have to talk about this now? The interviews start soon, and I can’t focus on them—” 

“I’m so worried about you, Channie. I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the morning”

Chan groaned, “I don’t know either, but I have to do it for the boys. I can’t…let them down”

Hyunjin’s chest ached now, a different kind of pain settling in. Why were they all making sacrifices for each other? They were only in their twenties, pushing for their dreams; this instability shouldn’t be normal.

Kairi sighed, “See, that’s exactly the problem. Why do you always take the blame for everything? Even when Hyunjin was gone, you made it your mission to do damage control for him. Not everything has to be your burden”

At the mention of his name, he really should walk away and learn to mind his own business, but he couldn’t help but overhear, feet rooted to the floor as Chan’s voice softened with a new desperation and frustration, “They mean everything to me. You know that”

“They do to me too, Chris. I know this is a horrible time”

“Hyunjin?” He heard Jisung’s voice call for him in the hallway. He needed to head back. An entire press and interview team was waiting for them, only a few rooms over and if he listened any further, he’d be in no state of mind to answer questions. But of course as he stepped away, he picked up on the last bit of conversation, “Did you know HR gave Hyunjin the papers?” Chan laughed bitterly, “They’re already prepared for the worst”

Kairi sighed, and he could hear her footsteps as she moved closer to Chan. Only dread filled his stomach as he heard the next sentence out of her mouth, “That’s their job. You have to not make it your problem this time, Chan, I’m…so worried about your health. And that’s Hyunjin’s responsibility. He knew what he was getting into when he started seeing her. It was bound to happen. It always does.”

Hyunjin didn’t stick around to hear Chan’s response.

He had heard enough.

»»————-

“Hyun, can I come see you?”

The question was expected, but Hyunjin was shocked when you said it anyway. He froze, choking at his words. A few days ago, he would have been overjoyed at this. After all, he’d already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements for you to come see him, but…things had changed. It was too risky. He didn’t have the heart to tell you about his conversation with Eunwoo. What was the point after all? Hyunjin let out an awkward fucking chuckle, “W-what?”

“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help.” Your voice was far away, drenched in longing.

It wasn’t out of nowhere, it was only what Hyunjin had been planning since forever. But nothing went to his fucking plans, “I…I’m not sure, Y/N”

Your voice deflated, disappointed, “Yeah?”

His heart broke, but it had become increasingly clear that it would be the dumbest idea ever to have you come visit. If anybody saw them…if anything got out…he wasn’t prepared to deal with that, “Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…”

“Yeah. I understand” Of course you understood, no matter how shitty Hyunjin kept behaving. For once, he wished you’d actually yell at him.

“I’m sorry” He swallowed, and he could feel the life being sucked out of him.

Your response was sweet as usual, “It’s okay. It’s bad timing”

“It’s bad timing” He repeated, and Hyunjin suddenly had a horrible feeling that maybe this was the last straw. Things had slipped out of his control. Soon, eventually, you would too.

»»————-

The seasons were changing, but flowers bloomed all year long in Seoul, and so Hyunjin had prepared early. He’d bought the Camellia seeds so he could grow winter flowers on his own, and see their life unfold before his eyes. Even if everything else seemed to be falling apart, at least he could try to be consistent and paint his feelings away. The yellow falling leaves and orange tree cover taken over the city inspired his many paintings. Usually, you’d send him pictures of every little detail from back home, especially of changing landscapes and beautiful natural sights of town, but you hadn't shared anything the past week. He wondered what autumn would look like in Daejon. Now that his conversations with you were thinning out, he had an irrational fear that he’d never find out. 

“Everything okay?”

“Sorry?” Hyunjin snapped out of it, and Changbin looked at him, concerned. “You’re in your head again. Is something bothering you?”

Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “No, I’m good”

Changbin clearly wasn’t convinced, because his expression softened, and he reached a hand out, “Hey, why don’t you go wait in the car? I’ll bring the Americano out to you”

But he was so past being taken care of or worried about. So Hyunjin shook his head. The idea of waiting in the car sounded absolutely horrible right now. He needed fresh air, and he was perfectly capable of getting his own cup of coffee.

“No, I got this. Why don’t you let me get this for us?” Hyunjin asked, pushing his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. It was getting colder by the day, and even in this temperature-controlled cafe, he was cold to the bone. Changbin grinned, shooting him a cheesy wink, “Well, I’ll never say no to being treated by you”

A smile tugged at Hyunjin’s lips. Changbin could find the brevity in each situation. Hyunjin walked up to the cashier, placing an order for their usual. “Could I have two coffees, black, please?” He asked. The cashier, a girl probably in her 20s, smiled wide at Hyunjin, “Is that all?”

He glanced at the pastry counter, and everything looked so appetising. Yet he was on a diet and couldn’t afford to do this. Everybody would be so disappointed in him, “No, that’s all”

“Sorry, but do…I know you?” She asked, punching in his order. Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he thought he’d concealed his identity enough with the hat, but clearly the rest of his expensive outfit was a dead give-away that was he was some big shot. They had another schedule after this, so they were dressed up and he was draped head-to-toe in luxury items, “Um. I just have one of those faces, I guess”

The girl didn’t look convinced, “Right…I’ll have your coffee out in a few minutes”

He stepped aside, joining his friend to the side. Changbin had a huge grin on his face still and Hyunjin was thankful to have his positivity surround him, “That chick was totally flirting with you”

“What?” Hyunjin shook his head, pushing the receipt in his coat pocket, “She barely said two words. You think everyone’s flirting with me”

“Well, why are her and all her friends giggling and looking at you?” Changbin rolled his eyes. Hyunijn looked back, and sure enough, the cashier and her coworkers were looking at him. Maybe they shouldn’t have come in here today. It was too close to the comeback. He shook that thought from his head. He was desperate for coffee.

“Excuse me, sir? Your coffee is ready” The girl said, and Hyunjin stepped back up. She was smiling, flushing red under her uniform cap, and as she handed them the cups he noticed a piece of paper stuck to it. Changbin glanced at it, eyes widening as they stepped away, “Is that her number?”

“I don’t know” Hyunjin mumbled, unfurling the paper. This definitely was the most romantic way he’d been asked out. It was her Instagram handle, and a note was stuck to it, Hope you liked the coffee, handsome. Maybe we could get a stronger drink later tonight? 

“Wow” Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he pushed the note into his pocket too. It’d be thrown away later, “That’s…certainly a bold move”

“Please tell me you’re going on that date”

Hyunjin shook his head, amused at how light-hearted dates and budding love could be for Changbin, “I…have plans”

“What plans? You’re a recluse”

“I was going to talk to Y/N tonight—” He trailed off, eyes landing on someone familiar in the crowd. Hyunjin’s breath hitched.

It was a while since he’d seen her. Years, at this point.

She was sat at a far table, laughing over a cup of coffee and croissants. She seemed better than she had in years. Happier than she’d ever been around Hyunjin. Right now, she was glowing. The cause of her happiness seemed to be a boy sitting across her. A guy dressed in flannel and suit pants, chunky glasses on his face. Hyunjin couldn’t look away as the boy leaned forward, kissing her cheek quickly. She smiled, and then the cashier called out, “Coffee for Yujin”

She kissed the boy before standing up. She walked towards them, and Hyunjin was still standing stupidly at the counter. She noticed him, eyes widening, coming to a stop. Almost instantly, the life drained from her face. 

A stark difference from a moment ago, when she was so happy. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do; he raised a hand; a small, non-threatening wave. Things between them had ended in peace, after all. Yujin’s face traversed many expressions before she settled on a calm look, “Hyunjin. Wow…hi. This…is such a surprise. Hello…Changbin”

Hyunjin nodded, hoping this interaction wasn’t being watched, “It’s…been a while, Yujin”

She was still beautiful, smiling to diffuse the tension, “I didn’t expect to see you around here”

Hyunjin nodded, hands squeezing his coffee cup, “Yeah. I…don’t come here too often”

She nodded, familiarity returning to her gaze, “Ah. Too easy to get recognised?”

Hyunjin nodded along, even though that wasn’t the reason. He hated how his life seemed to revolve around his fame, and not his choices, like maybe he didn’t come here because he just liked another coffee shop more. Changbin took over, noticing the awkward shift in Hyunjin, “Um, so how have you been, Yujin? You look good!”

She smiled at him, “I’m great. I’m actually doing really well… I, uh, moved out of the city, closer to the outskirts”

“Really?” Hyunjin asked. He wondered why she would make such a decision. She’d trained with him for years, until she’d suddenly dropped out of the idol industry, but back when Hyunjin knew her and dated her, they had the same ambitions. The same thirst to be recognized, to be respected, and known for their talent. That’s why they had got along so well.

“Hmm, the city got too much for me sometimes. Anyway after I met Haru, it just seemed like the right choice to make”

“Haru. Is that…your boyfriend?” Hyunjin asked, noticing the boy back at the table. 

“Well…” She giggled, lifting her hand up to show them the glittering, gorgeous ring, “Fiancé, actually”

Changbin’s eyes widened, “You’re engaged?”

She nodded, a dimple in her cheek, “Haru asked me a few months ago”

Hyunjin forced himself to smile, but there was a deep pit in his stomach, recalling the conversations they used to have back in their days as trainees. They were never that serious to talk about weddings, or marriage. They both knew it was only an attraction between them and would stay that way, but he remembered a specific conversation where Yujin had said that the only disadvantage of becoming famous was the love life they’d be giving up. He was happy for her now. She hadn’t had to give it up after all, “Congratulations, Yujin. That’s…really good”

“Never too early to settle down, am I right?” She laughed, “What about you, Jinnie? How have you been?”

“I’m…good too. So…what are you doing these days?” He redirected the conversation back, curiosity brimming at him. What did someone do once they’d left the idol life? They were free to do absolutely anything, the choices were limitless. He’d never known a life without rules. He’d been training since he was fourteen, after all. She shrugged, “I’m doing a bit of everything. I volunteered at an organisation for a while, I tested my hand at photography, modelling even, but then I realised I really don’t want to be around cameras of any kind” She laughed, “I teach now, though”

“That sounds really nice, Yujin. I’m glad you get to do something you love”

“Well, you too! You’re absolutely thriving, Hyunjin. I see you every day with all your brand deals and advertisements. Does it ever get tiring being pretty all the time?”

Hyunjin smiled, “It’s…part of my job”

“Well, you deserve it. I remember how focused you used to be. You were my motivation, you know? It should have been obvious that life wasn’t for me. I hated everything. My favourite part of the academy used to be seeing you” At those words, the boy, Haru joined her, slipping an arm around her waist, “Everything all right, baby?”

She glanced at him, “Shit, I totally forgot to get the coffee. Just ran into some old friends”

Haru laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it for us, babe.” He kissed her again, with no hesitance of being seen by so many people, and went to pick up the drinks. Changbin conversed with Haru, as Yujin asked Hyunjin, “I read that you went on a break for a couple of months. That must have been…wow, relieving?”

He swallowed, “Yeah, it was really good, but…I’m back to work now”

“That must’ve been nice. I don’t know how you do it, Hyunnie. I remember when we training together, you wouldn’t leave the practice room for days. Still the same?”

Hyunjin nodded. Yujin had changed so much from when he’d last met her. Had he changed at all?

Haru smiled at him, “Thank you for taking good care of her then. She tells me about those days a lot. It must have been thrilling to keep it a secret from everyone”

Hyunjin shook his head, smiling politely at him, “It was terrifying actually” 

They laughed. Haru pulled Yujin into his side again as she said, “Well…this was unexpected, but if your schedule permits, you and the boys are always welcome to the engagement party. It’s the end of December”

Changbin sighed dramatically, “Unfortunately, we’re working the whole month”. Yujin frowned, “That’s terrible….I would suggest catching up after that but…me and Haru are going to be gone for three months”

“Oh, where are you going?” Changbin asked.

“Backpacking through Europe” She responded chirpily, “Haru’s really into art and sculptures, so we have this silly idea to visit every museum in Paris”

“That sounds really good” Hyunjin smiled, but he was drowning so deep in his thoughts he could barely focus. What a nice life. It was strange, the last time he saw her, she was in the same boat as him. Training to be an idol, like him. But their paths had diverged, and envy settled in him. He was so lucky to have his life, but he wished he could just take off like that too on vacation, no questions asked. Changbin’s phone buzzed and he apologised, ”Um sorry to stop this, but we gotta go. Eunwoo’s calling us back in to work”

Hyunjin nodded, “Oh, of course. It was great to meet you Yujin, and you too, Haru. Congratulations again, on the engagement. I hope you have a good time in Europe. I’m really happy for you”

Suddenly the expensive bracelets he was wearing felt like shackles around Hyunjin’s wrists. 

»»————-

A fire burned within him, a quiet inferno consuming his peace. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yujin and what her life was like now. She’d rebuilt it to something so special. She would never have that peace of life if she’d stayed in her company or with Hyunjin. He sat at the company table, signing albums, and it was a monotonous task so his thoughts kept drifting. 

“Jinnie. Your phone” Jisung mumbled, poking him with a pen. Hyunjin lift his head to see it buzzing across the table. You were calling. He took a breath, walking out to talk to you. You were the only thing that could make this horrible fucking day better. He hoped you weren’t still upset at him rejecting your offer to come to the city. Hopefully, you’d understand. Everything was too treacherous. Hyunjin…was too treacherous for you right now. Still, he listened to you about your day, and how you’d apparently made up with Yongbok. He smiled, lowering his voice as employees passed him in the corridor, “What did you guys do?”

As you told him everything he wished he was doing with you instead, Hyunjin faded into thought again until you said, “Um…and something else happened. When we were talking, Yongbok said something…He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”

He wished he was more surprised.

A cynical stupid part of him was happy at this. So Yongbok finally told you. Bitterness settled into his veins, scorching him from the inside out, and Hyunjin found himself thinking that maybe with Yongbok, you could finally have the life he couldn’t give you.

When he got home that night, he realised the hydrangeas in his room had withered away completely.

»»————-

He woke to fresh flowers on his desk. Baby blue, lilac, pink and white. All shapes and colors. The scent is what woke him up. It starkly contrasted to the dying hydrangeas that he still hadn’t thrown away. He’d been meaning to draw them in that state. A cruel render of their destruction. 

The comeback was in a few days. Their album would finally be out to the public. There was so much to do today, and he lay in bed just a little longer to enjoy the temporary peace. A press conference was underway soon, and he would have to put on his best self. It was going to be live-streamed and there were no doubts that he’d be asked about the hiatus. He worried if the music would be well received, if it would surpass everyone’s expectations. Hyunjin finally crawled out of bed and read the little notes attached to the bouquets. Congratulations on your 4th successful studio album. Never forget how lucky and blessed you are~!

He walked into his kitchen, sweatpants hanging low, sleep clouding him, to see even more flowers on the island. “Who sent these?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Jisung looked sorrowful though, ignoring the bouquets entirely.

“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, the worst scenarios playing in his head.

He swallowed, “They broke up”

His stomach was a pit at the news, “When?”

“Late last night. Chan…still hasn’t come home yet. We have no idea where he is”

“What? How do you know they broke up?”

“Kairi texted Binnie. She was worried. We can’t find him anywhere…”

“I’m going to call him" Hyunjin said, rushing to his room.

“We already tried that, Jinnie” Changbin spoke, “We’ve been trying since an hour”

“Maybe he’ll pick up my call” Hyunjin hoped, as the ringer rang in his ear. After eight rings, Chan did pick up. “Hello, Chan?” Hyunjin asked, voice soft. Jisung and Changbin moved closer, eyes wide as they observed him. Chan sounded low on the other end, “Jinnie…? Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. Where are you, Channie? Are you all right?”

“I’m…fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for the conference”

“No, can I please come get you? Let me” Hyunjin pleaded. There was a pause, and a sigh and then Chan said, “I’m at the old dorm”

“I’ll be right there” Hyunjin hung up.

“No, we’re coming with” Jisung said, stepping ahead.

“Guys. Let me…just do this on my own. Eunwoo would kill us if none of us are here. Me and Chan will make it to the press conference, I promise”

Hyunjin couldn’t drive fast enough. For a second, he worried he would forget the way to their old house but it was embedded into him. It’s where they’d had their whole beginning, and Hyunjin got there in record time. Kairi meant everything to Chan, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling right now. Chan was always there for him, and he felt personally responsible to make sure he was all right. The old dorm building looked run-down; it had been falling apart for years, even when the boys lived there, and he chose the stairs over the rusty old elevator. On the fourth floor, there was an alcove. It was hidden behind a door that was sometimes locked, but he pushed it open. Chan was sitting inside, on the window seat, a soft smile on his face when he saw Hyunjin approach.

“Just you?” He tilt his head, seeing nobody else follow, “I thought the cavalry would show up”

Hyunjin shot him a soft smile, leaning against the door, “Just me….can I join you?”

Chan pat the empty seat next to him, and Hyunjin sat down. This is where Chan was always found, back when they still lived here. It’s where he came to think. To write their greatest hits. To ponder about life’s biggest mysteries. It was always his place, and Hyunjin could see why he loved it so much. It was hidden, like a secret room. Ignoring the cobweb in the corner, it was cosy. A faded old painting hung on the wall, rickety floorboards that probably hid treasures inside, a window that looked out onto an alley. The alley was something special in itself. It was between two apartment buildings, and a little bakery was carved into the side of the building. The few times Hyunjin sat here with Chan, he’d seen bakers arrive at three in the morning, loading powdered sugar and other ingredients in, creating storms and clouds of sugar. It was always a beautiful sight.

“What happened, Chan?” Hyunjin ended up asking, cutting to the chase. They both knew why he was here. Chan swallowed, looking wistful, “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m going to be okay. I just needed…a day to let the sadness out”

“You can take more than that” 

“Not really. I can’t afford to, not this week. I gotta put on my best self”

“We’ll understand if you don’t.” Hyunjin frowned, admirable of Chan’s resolve, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here” Chan glanced at him, a smile on his face, “I know you are, Jinnie. You’re actually the best, and the worst person to talk to this about”

“Why the worst?” Hyunjin frowned.

Chan laughed, “You don’t want to hear the good part first?”

“No…”

“The worst because…I know what you felt about me and Kairi… I feel responsible for how you see the world, crazy as that sounds. I know you had to hear our arguments the past few weeks, I’m sorry about that. I feel like I took away all your hope.”

Hyunjin swallowed, “It’s not your fault. I’ve had minimal hope to begin with”

Chan laughed, loudly, “God, Jinnie, that’s really fucked up, you know? It shouldn’t be this way. We should be out there, showing our girls the best time”

“You shouldn’t apologize to me for your break up, Chan,” Hyunjin emphasized.

“Wow. Breakup. That sounds insane to say” He breathed in a sigh, as it was finally settling in, “To think I was going to ask her to marry me in a few months”

Hyunjin felt emotional. He’d known and adored their relationship for the longest time, “I’m so sorry, Chan. I don’t know what to say, I wish I could…make this better”

“You don’t have to. I’m…happy you’re here. Kim Soohyun asked to see my phone last night. I don’t know why, but I deleted every conversation with Kairi. I suppose I panicked. I shouldn’t have done that, because now all my best memories with her are just that…memories”

Hyunjin swallowed, and maybe all the reading poetry had rotted his brain. His heart was starting to shrivel, just like the Hydrangeas that were out of bloom. Once he got home, maybe it was the right move to erase his chat history with you too. A small way of shielding himself from the damage that could follow. His memories with you would be lost, but his carelessness would only hurt the boys more.

Chan reminded him far too much of you, the way he held onto memories, objects, and tangible things with an iron grip. He recalled how sad you’d felt erasing the little star you’d drawn from Hyunjin’s face. It had meant so much to you. Maybe he was becoming more like you every day too, which is why the dying flowers still rested on Hyunjin’s desk when he should have thrown them out weeks ago. He ended up saying something that only halfway made sense, “I want to say that…the things we’re meant for will always come back to us, but… I stray further from that thought every day, so I would be lying if I tried to convince you of that” 

Chan smiled sadly, and he held something within his hands, “You’re the most romantic person I know, even without trying to be”

Hyunjin laughed, bitterly, “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed”

Chan turned to him, “Don’t say that, Jinnie”

Hyunjin shook his head, facing him, “I came here for you, not to talk about me…you know you have me, always, right?”

“I know” Chan leaned in, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin. It was an awkward half-hug but Hyunjin relaxed into the embrace, whispering, “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with Kairi”

Chan pulled away, a sincere smile on his face, “Thank you. We should probably get going if we want to make it in time for the conference”

“You’re right” Hyunjin nodded, but they made no attempt to move, trying to lengthen this short-lived peace.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” Chan muttered, and it’s only then that Hyunjin realised what he held in his palm. A diamond ring. The one he was going to propose to Kairi with.

“What?” 

“What our lives are like. Do you never question that?” Chan asked. Hyunjin had never heard him talk like this, and he couldn’t comprehend this. Chan had built them up from the ground up, worked his ass off to get them to where they are. In fact, he couldn’t bear to see this side of him. He shouldn’t be questioning all his hard work, or that all would have been for nothing. Out of all people in the world, Chan couldn't be the one to lose hope. He was their rock.

He felt for Chan. So much. Yet, this train of thought was so dangerous. What would happen to them if they all started hating their job? They had never been forced into this career, they’d made their choices of their own volition, even if it was done as a teenager who didn’t know what he’d be giving up, but they’d gained so much too. The lifestyle Hyunjin led…people would kill for. 14-year-old him would kill for this. And he’d be so proud of him for it too. So, why was he questioning everything now? 

“No, I don’t” Hyunjin said. It was a lie, but he would sell it to Chan, for his sake, “We’re doing something impossible for most people to even imagine in the world. The impact that you have on people is…unreal. Millions of people love you, and you inspire them. You inspire me to work harder everyday. So, I don’t question if it’s worth it, and you shouldn’t either, Chan”

Something in Chan’s eyes changed, as if he had never expected him to say this. Hyunjin, the romantic, would never have said that. Love felt like the core of his life. He was hungry for it, but there was more than one kind of love.

So later that week, when Hyunjin stared at his phone in his hands, it was filled up with memories of you. Every phone call, each picture you’d sent him, each sweet thought he’d scribbled in his notes but never had the chance to send you. The press tour had already begun, and the boys were knee-depth in stress, and Hyunjin could never let himself add to that. Kairi had talked about sacrifices, and he finally understood it. Maybe it was cowardly to never explain to you what was happening, but it was easier. He didn’t have the heart to delete the past few months, so he took Eunwoo’s advice and changed his number instead.

Sorrow settled in his chest as Hyunjin realised that he would go to the ends of the earth for you, but perhaps that wasn’t still enough. He wasn’t willing to give this life up, and this was a sacrifice he was going to have to make.

»»————- Present Day. 

You only had the moonlight to guide you tonight.

There were hardly any streetlights this far out. It was pitch black, and the glow of the moon fell upon Hyunjin’s face, tracing each contour perfectly. You were trying real hard to not look at him. He was drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel and it was annoying. It kept grabbing your attention, and you’d glance at him only to remember you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t spend time marveling at his little mannerisms because…things had changed. 

All you could do was listen to the conversations of the backseat. Chan was mumbling something to Kairi, and their voices had dropped in volume since you’d pulled out of the parking lot. Each syllable was spoken in a whisper, like it was a secret between them, and you felt like you were eavesdropping. Still, there was not much else to focus to. You definitely were not going to focus on the boy sitting next to you.

“I know that it could’ve been better…but I hope that you still had a good time today” Chan said softly, and through the rearview mirror, you saw that they’d laced their hands together. Kairi was leaning into him, fingers interlocked, and you looked down at your hands. The empty spaces between your fingers bothered you. 

“I did, Chris” Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, “Honestly, it was a pretty special birthday”

You averted your gaze, giving them privacy. Hyunjin kept glancing in the mirror briefly before looking back to the road. There was a small smile on his lips. He used to talk about them so much. He must be happy with this outcome. You didn’t know the details of what had gone wrong with their relationship, you’d never pried, but it must have been hard getting back together after all that heartbreak and pain.

“I’m…really fucking tired. I might pass out any second” Kairi announced, followed by a yawn.

“Don’t worry. Hyunjin is a smooth driver” Chan reassured, “Isn’t he?”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes flickering to Chan’s, “Of course. And um, Kairi, if you’re cold, I have an extra jacket in the backseat”

There was rummaging and then Kairi gasped, having found the jacket, “This is so stylish. I missed your clothes, Jinnie”

“Hey, hey. What are you trying to imply?” Chan complained. Kairi giggled, and Hyunjin laughed, “Your girlfriend is a fan of color, Chan. That’s not my fault”

“How predictable of you” Chan mumbled, and you could see him rolling his eyes. You drifted out of their conversation, looking out the window at the passing landscape. Trees drifted by in a blur and there was hardly any civilisation out here. Miles and miles of nothing. 

“Don’t you agree?” Kairi laughed, hand landing on your shoulder, and she was talking to you.

“Sorry?” You asked, “Agree with what?”

“Fuck. Did I wake you?” She apologised, “I didn’t realise you fell asleep”

“No, no, I’m up. I was just distracted….” You replied, clearing your throat. This conversation warranted another glance from Hyunjin, as if he was checking to see what you were distracted by. You returned his gaze with indifference, raising your eyebrows. He immediately looked away, back to the road.

“Well, I was telling Chris that your friends, Minnie and Jamie are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever met. I mean, I hardly see relationships that strong here; people are usually just serial daters” Kairi explained.

“Oh. Right” You nodded, thankful to have the context, “They’re…really cute, yeah”

“A serial dater?” Chan asked.

“Yeah. Dating apps will do that to you, especially in midtown. Take my advice now, never get on one, you’ll be fighting in the trenches” Kairi laughed. The trees were whizzing past so fast it made you dizzy, you mumbled, “It’s funny. Dating apps could never work back home”

“Cause you know everyone? Is that really true?” She asked. You nodded, “I mean, yeah. You go to school with the people technically in your dating age range, and there are only five restaurants and hang-out spots, so you’re always bumping into each other. It’s impossible to not know everyone”

“Was that ever weird?” Kairi asked, “Like seeing your ex at dinner or something?”

A small laugh escaped you, “It actually sucked. You couldn’t escape them”

“Did you ever run into her exes?” Chan asked, and it took you a second to realise the question was directed at Hyunjin. It took him a few seconds and he sat up straighter, mumbling quietly, “No.”

You blinked at his nonchalance, trying not to let this phase you. This could be a normal car ride if you just let it. Suddenly your gut was hurting with anxiety and you looked out the window again, away from him.

“Well, thankfully, I’ve never had to deal with that,” Chan spoke, “Eunwoo would have a heart attack if one of us was found on those apps. Although there’s quite a few fake profiles out there with Hyunjin’s face on them”

“Eunwoo?” You asked, ignoring the second part of his statement. It sent jealousy surging through you. Why did you feel jealous by even the thought of Hyunjin being on a dating app? You needed to get a grip on your emotions. 

“Ah. Hyunjin didn’t tell you?” Chan asked, so casually, “Eunwoo’s…our manager, of sorts”

Without thinking, you spoke, “I thought your manager was the lady in the shop”

“What shop?” Chan frowned, confused, “Wait, hold up. You’ve met one of our managers, Y/N? Where was that?” You stayed silent, for only a second, wondering if Hyunjin would answer this question. After all, he knew the manager and they were in the shop for a reason. The one where he had ignored you completely, as if you didn’t exist. You were only there by accident, after losing your way trying to find the Atelier. To your relief, Hyunjin did speak, “Yeah. That was Mrs. Giwon…she was accompanying me on one of the snack runs”

“Ah” Kairi exclaimed, “She’s…the worst one”

“Hey” Chan spoke, “She’s really helpful sometimes”

“Anyway…moving on” Kairi rolled her eyes, “She kind of traumatised me after she busted us”

“Busted you?” You turned, intrigued. Kairi laughed, “She walked in on me and Chan making out in the studio! God, that day was hell. She like…actually yelled at me for not maintaining a professional attitude in their building”

“And that, of course…led to the no-girlfriend in the studio rule,” Chan mumbled, and through the rearview, you saw him roll his eyes. That seemed like an insane rule to have, especially for adults. You stole a glance at Hyunjin to catch his reaction. He looked straight ahead, as if he couldn’t even hear this conversation, laser-focused on driving the empty streets. Kairi laughed loudly, “Changbin was the most pissed about that!”

“He has a girlfriend?” 

“No. That man’s a serial dater, through and through. He’s too busy producing insane music to have a full relationship anyway. He goes through NDA’s faster than you can say hookup, but honestly…he enjoys himself so much. He’s…very popular with all the girls”

You wanted to ask so much more about that. NDAs…? So that was a truth and not a rumor. Hyunjin had never mentioned those to you. At the paint and wine event, Sakura and Yeosang had asked him about it, and he’d been cautious about answering. But it was true. All of it felt so silly. Their words came back to you. Imagine sleeping with someone and then signing a contract instead of some aftercare.

If you and Hyunjin had hooked up back in Daejon, would he have also made you sign an NDA? But he fingered you. He let you touch him. He let you cut his hair and give him a handjob in his little bathroom. Did that not ask for an NDA? Or did he just trust you enough? All the possibilities floated through your head, and stupidly, like a stupid girl, you blurted, “So what all does that NDA cover? Is it just sex or…is it like, making out and other things too? And it's legally required?”

At your question, Hyunjin’s grip on the wheel tightened. His shoulders tensed up. 

You’d struck a nerve. 

Good. 

It was satisfying to know you had some sort of impact on him. Till now, he was just pretending you didn’t exist. 

Kairi paused, pondering over it, “Um…pretty much just sex, but like…I didn’t have to sign an NDA every single time. It’s only if it’s with a new person"

“Right”

Chan laughed, “I know. It sounds crazy. Especially in the 21st century, but with the internet and everything, you can never be too careful what people will say in a public forum. Hyunjin, didn’t you hate them too when we started out?”

Hyunjin cleared his throat, “Yeah. It’s stupid”

So he would sign them too? How often did he sleep with a new girl? You didn’t want to think about this any longer. There was no point wondering about his past when you wouldn’t be in his future. Your phone buzzed against the console and you grabbed it, positioning it on the seat between your legs so you could read it. It was a text from Felix.

hey. i was just talking with minho and man, i miss you I know you’ve likely forgotten all about me but call me later please…I think ill die here without you

A smile pulled at your cheeks, and you typed in a quick reply.

im getting back from a party lixie. It was kairi’s birthday. i miss you guys too :(

“Who are you texting at this hour?” Kairi piped up, leaning ahead, “Nate?”. You immediately clicked your phone screen black, even though you had nothing to hide. You just shot her a smile, “Just… a friend from back home”

Hyunjin probably knew exactly who you were talking about, yet he didn’t react. His stone-cold demeanour was really beginning to bother you.

“So where were you guys, at the party? When we found you, you two were at the cabins” Kairi spoke, breaking the tension. You swallowed, wondering if he would answer but he obviously wasn’t interested in speaking so you said, “I was dancing. And then…I hurt myself. So Hyunjin took me to the cabin to find a bandaid”

That wasn’t exactly what had happened. You had conveniently skipped over your argument, and the two of you spying on them, but Hyunjin nodded along, following your lie, “Yeah. There were no first aid kits there though”

Kairi nodded, “Shit, yeah. We didn’t think anybody would use the cabins for anything other than sex…anyway, I was thinkingggg we should play some game. It’d be nice to kill the time.”

Chan reminded her, “I thought you were about to pass out, baby”

Kairi was full of energy now as she suggested, “Well, I’m wide awake now! I kind of want the celebration to last a little while longer. Y/N, you can pick a game, since you're my guest of honour! Do you know any good ones?”

It seemed like Kairi and Chan had absolutely no fucking idea what happened between you and Hyunjin. They knew you weren’t together, but it seemed like they knew nothing more than that. Hyunjin hadn’t told them any of the details. They only knew you’d ended things, but not why. By their ease, and comfort…it seemed like they didn’t even know Hyunjin had been the one to end things with you. The memory of that made your chest clench, with hurt.

The heartbreak felt so one-sided. Everything seemed so easy for him. Had you got everything wrong this summer? Had you read too much into his actions? You felt embarrassed, thinking back to the kind of things you’d said to him. You didn’t tell him you loved him, but you pretty much said everything else. He knew more about you than anybody else in your life, and now he wouldn't even talk to you. You’d been willing to move to the city for him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Being in Seoul suddenly didn’t feel worth it anymore.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“We still are two hours out of the city. It’d be fun to play something” Kairi said, glancing at the GPS on the console. Play something? Like a road trip game? This hardly felt like a road trip, it was far too depressing to be one. “I’m…good with anything” You spoke, “I’m kind of really tired”

“How about word association?” Chan suggested, “I used to play that with my family as a kid”

You realised he was waiting for your response so you nodded, “Sure. How does it go…? Is there a way to lose?”

“Only if you take longer than three seconds to answer. We go in a circle, Kairi can start with any random word, you have to say a word related to the previous one, and the person who can’t come up with something loses”

You weren’t really in the mood to play, but you would need more energy to protest. Plus, any time interacting with the back-seaters was time removed with the boy in the front seat. Kairi quickly explained the rules, and that it would go clockwise, starting with Hyunjin. He still hadn’t reacted to the idea of the game so you weren’t even sure if he was playing. Kairi hummed loudly, looking around for inspiration. Dark clouds were forming on the horizon so she naturally said, “Thunder!”

“Storm” You immediately said.

“Well, Hyunjin was supposed to go” Kairi laughed, “I’ll go again. Eclipse?”

“Cosmic” Hyunjin replied. A curt, short, emotionless answer. You realised you had to speak now. You mumbled, “Um…the stars”

“Marilyn Monroe” Chan said. Kairi laughed loudly, “Chris. What the hell?”

“What? She’s…a star” Chan defended. You smiled at their bantering. Kairi rolled her eyes, “No. That’s what’s called a Freudian slip”

“Excuse me?” Chan giggled, “Don’t psychobabble me. What even is that?”

Kairi laughed, “It’s this theory that if you accidentally say something wrong, you were thinking about it subconsciously. Most people are thinking about sex, so that’s what a lot of Freudian slips reveal”

“So what… you’re accusing me of wanting to sleep with Marilyn Monroe?” Chan frowned. She giggled, “No, I’m just saying that’s how it works, smartass. It usually reveals your repressed thoughts”

You glanced back at her, “Yeah. I guess that’s what this entire game is about. Although I really don’t think Freud has had the best ideas. Some of them are…really regressive” 

Kairi grinned at you, nodding aggressively and she was still tipsy from before, “You’re so right, honestly. Most of the people I played this game with had no idea what a Freudian slip was. You know, this is why we’re friends. You’re…so fucking cool. You’re just like me”

“Y/N is not just like you” Chan laughed loudly.

“Excuse me?” She gasped, offended, “You just met her. How would you even know what she’s like?”

Chan chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve been hearing about her all summer—” He suddenly stopped, realising what he’d said. An awkward silence enveloped the car and you did everything not to look at Hyunjin. So… Chan had been hearing about you all summer. You knew Hyunjin had told the boys about you. You just wondered what he’d said. What did he know of you? Chan cleared his throat, embarrassed by his slip of the tongue, “I mean….never mind. Should we continue the game? Hyunjin. Why don’t you start?”

Hyunjin swallowed, adjusting his hands on the wheel, “Um. I don’t know. Sin?”

Your eyes widened at his word choice, and it was your turn to go next. Sin? What was he even thinking of? Your mind went through the seven deadly sins that you knew of, and you only had three seconds so you blurted, “Lust”

It was Chan’s turn now, and he blanked, eyes widening, “Uh…passion?”

You didn’t like this tangent of thought… and you waited for Kairi to say something. Chan teased, “Are you serious? You’re gonna lose”. She yelled, “Wait, wait. I know. Yearning!”

It was Hyunjin’s turn to play. His mouth parted, and he was about to say something, but instead he chose not to. He just shook his head, “I don’t know…I can’t really focus on the game when I’m driving”

Kairi sighed, “Can’t believe you lost on yearning, Hyunjin”

“Yeah. My mistake” He mumbled. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. You didn’t really want to play this game anymore. You stared out the window, your reflection flickering in the window. You wanted to be home already, and not in this car where you felt like a stranger.

There was so much brevity and lightheartedness in the conversations between Chan and Kairi, and here you were…struggling to even get a proper hi out. You felt like a stranger, even to Kairi. You’d only known her for a few weeks, compared to them. The three of them felt like a unit, like a family that was finally complete again. Hyunjin had sang praises of their love, and you could see it now. It wasn’t anything grand or impossible, it was so casual and effortless. Kairi and Chan fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly, but even more than that, they enhanced each other so simply. There was no fear of misunderstandings, or betrayal. They were giggling in the back, laughing about some inside joke you’d never be able to understand. Perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted this ride. Kairi was your friend, but you weren’t really welcome here. You were an outsider. Chan must have wanted to keep the conversation going so he said, “So, Y/N, you were about to tell me about yourself when we got in the car” 

You swallowed, “Um, I didn’t know I was going to be doing that”

Kairi teased, “Yeah, Chan. I thought you knew all about her, and how me and her are so similar”

Chan giggled, “It was a figure of speech. No, but seriously, Y/N”

You bit your lip, and a deep sadness was overwhelming you. One you’d been trying to escape for months but it seemed impossible now. You’d genuinely enjoyed the party, until he’d showed up. He’d ruined everything. It had taken so long for you to not think about him. Now you felt like you were sinking again, “Um…what do you want to know? I came here to study art. There’s not really much to tell…You’re the one who has a really interesting life."

Chan frowned, “Come on. That’s not a real answer. I wanna know you, not answers you’d type in on some Facebook page”

You were at a loss for words, and you mostly just felt conscious around Hyunjin. You always hated introductions like this, and icebreakers, especially around someone you wanted to like you. Chan seemed amazing, he was brilliant so how could your little life possibly impress him? You’d done nothing that would have an impact on anyone, unlike them. Anything you say would be so boring. So you settled for a basic fact about yourself, a preface to your personality, “Well…I used to work in an art—”

“She’s a really good artist” Hyunjin suddenly interrupted you.

Your gaze snapped to his.

“Oh yeah?” Chan asked, surprised.

“Yup” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “She’s in the most prestigious program of the country” 

Chan smiled, “Wow. That’s…amazing, Y/N. You should be bragging about that stuff”

“There’s only like…25 people that get in from across the world” Hyunjin continued talking, staring right ahead so casually. There was a knot in your stomach, and he had the faintest of a smile on his face as he talked about you. It was more than he’d given you in the past hours, “She’s one of the few domestic students”

“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Kairi exclaimed, hand reaching out to tap you. But you were speechless, staring at Hyunjin. Why did he just do that?

“Well, now you’ve got to show me your art, Y/N!” Chan grinned, “Hyunjin’s got pretty high standards when it comes to those, so I’m curious”

You nodded, forcing a smile at him, “Yeah…um, maybe later”

“Well, I hope you taught Hyunjin something too” Chan laughed. 

Hyunjin nodded, and there was a hint of emotion as he spoke, “She did”

You chewed on your lower lip, fiddling with your jacket, thinking about his words, even long after he’d said them.

The barren highway enveloped the car in darkness, and the tiny GPS screen was the only light source. You stared ahead, watching the road lit up in the headlights, uncovering more of the unknown every second. There was nobody else out here. It was spooky, and you hated the feeling. You felt trapped in this metal contraption. Hyunjin’s fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, a familiar rhythm, probably calming his nerves down. The backseat noise had died down, and it seemed like the tiredness had finally hit Kairi. The only indication of passing time was the clock on the dashboard. You watched it tick down every second, hoping it would go faster. The city was still so far out. You leaned back onto the seat, watching trees whiz past in silence. Hyunjin was so quiet you’d almost think he fell asleep. The only surmountable sound was the heating, and the tapping of his fingers. You closed your eyes, hoping the time would pass faster.

You couldn’t help but think of what was waiting for you. There was no lingering excitement. This party had been the only thing you’d been looking forward to for a while. There was so much work back in class, starting Monday. Kim Jieong was expecting so much from you. You felt emotionally drained. He was your only motivation, pushing you to get better. After all, there was nothing else waiting for you back there. 

Suddenly Hyunjin cleared his throat, drawing your attention. From your peripheral vision, you saw him reach for the radio, fingers hovering over the console, and then he looked to you, “Um…mind if I put something on?”

You blinked, distracted by how he looked in the glow of the light. His glasses were thin, hanging on his nose bridge, and his lips were pursed. He’d bitten them raw. Maybe you weren’t the only one anxious in this car. You shook your head, “Go ahead”

He pressed a button, and life filled the previously stagnant car. An announcer was talking, probably at an all-night radio station, and you asked softly, “Wouldn’t this wake them up?”

Hyunjin looked at you again, over the rim of his glasses, eyes meeting yours for another torturous split second. In the dark, they looked like pools of black, a darkened gaze as he spoke, “Uh, don’t worry. I turned the speakers in the back off. It’s only the front ones that are working”

Oh. You didn’t even know that was possible. They obviously had access to the best cars with the best technologies. Music began playing, a rock band from the 80s, and you rest your head again, closing your eyes to savour in this newfound peace. It was strange to sit next to the man you desired the most yet have no conversation. For the past few months, it had been impossible to separate you, and the irony of this moment didn’t fail to surprise you. You’d come all the way to Seoul for him. Yet the only sound in the car was Bon Jovi on the radio. 

“Um—”

“So—” You and Hyunjin both spoke at the same time.

“Sorry,” You apologised, “What were you about to say?”

He glanced at you, hand reaching out to the radio again, and you noticed he had new rings on his finger. They looked so expensive, glittering sparkles, and he must have bought them recently. He seemed nervous and he spoke, “I can…uh, change the music if you don’t like it”

Your eyebrows shot up. That clearly wasn’t what he was going to say. “No, it’s nice. I like him”

He nodded, retreating his hand and putting it back on the console. You wondered about the unspoken, but wondering would only kill you. So you shut your eyes again, hands warm in your lap, wishing to be somewhere else. The tune was thrilling. 

“80’s music is actually one of my favourites”

You opened your eyes to look at him, “Really?”

“Yeah. I think….their songs are pretty incomparable. I actually got a lot of inspiration for our album from them. I don’t know if you heard it; it’s very pop-rock heavy, which isn’t what we usually do” He spoke, a nervous wavering in his voice, as if you two were just getting to know each other. 

You observed him, “Is that what you were going to say earlier?”

“Sorry?” He looked right at you, dark eyes flickering over your features. You felt conscious of how you looked. You were still in his sweater, and your hair was still wet from the swim. You said, “Um…you were about to say something but decided not to. Was that it?”

Realisation sank into his face, lips parting, “No, I was…going to ask you how you met Kairi”

“Oh…” Disappointment filled you. What were you expecting to be said? An apology would be nice actually. Something to start with. You were having trouble grasping that things between you and him were truly over. They couldn’t be. Hadn’t he only come into your life yesterday, uprooting everything you thought you knew about yourself? Or maybe you were just desperately clinging on to a summer dream that wasn’t real.

“Sorry. Should I not have asked?” Hyunjin said. 

“No, that’s fine. It was just a crazy coincidence. We were at a bar…me and my friends, and somebody spilled a drink on her, I just happened to be there. I offered to help her. Obviously…I didn’t know who she was. Later, I realised it was Kairi”

“That’s…” Hyunjin’s fingers adjusted on the steering wheel, he spaced them out, glancing at you again, “That’s really nice of you”

“Yeah”

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“What? Um, no.” You shook your head awkwardly. His sweater was keeping you plenty warm.

“Okay”

The silence drowned you again, and you focused on the song playing, replaying the previous conversation in your head, clinging to it for life.

“I…tried Gouache” 

It took you a second to register that Hyunjin was talking to you, again.

Why was he making an effort after what went down earlier? You’d argued and fought, and now he was…trying to be nice? Was he trying to make amends? Did he finally realise what an asshole he’d been? Or were his memories of summer coming back to him too? Because every time you looked at him, all you could remember was the calmness of each moment you’d spent with him, and how his skin had felt to touch, and how his body had felt against yours, warm and comforting. How could he not be thinking of that?

“Sorry?” You glanced at him. 

He straightened up, hands clasped before him, “I…taught myself Gouache. I hadn’t explored it much before, but I had some time between schedules last month and I decided to give it a shot”

You didn’t know what to say. Gouache was such a difficult pigmented paint medium to work with. You stayed quiet, which somehow… he took a sign to continue speaking, “It was hard…but I found the supplies and tried many styles with it. I couldn’t get it right for the longest time but then realised I had the wrong brushes. I…think I prefer it to watercolor”

“Are you serious?”

He glanced at you, almost surprised that you’d replied even though he had been telling you all of this. He nodded, his lips a thin line.

“Gouache can never have the same effect, or…even replace watercolours. It’s…so much more intense. It loses all of its softness” You ended up saying.

“Have you worked with it before?”

“In class. I do all the time” You answered, “I don’t like it. I prefer acrylics or oil”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes zeroed in on you again, “Do you have the freedom to choose?”

“Choose what?”

“The material you want to paint with” He stated, simply. 

“Yeah. It’s up to us” You said.

Hyunjin just nodded, and then silently turned away. As did you. Queen was playing on the radio now, and you liked this song. Somebody to Love. It seemed like Hyunjin enjoyed this song too, because he reached ahead, his bracelets clinking together and he increased the volume just slightly. You glanced in the rearview mirror, and Kairi and Chan were still asleep, cuddled up to each other. Hyunjin was softly singing, under his breath, but he knew all the words. His voice brought a strange calmness to your body, warming it up.

“I can’t believe you tried Gouache” You mumbled, still thinking about it. You didn’t want to initiate conversation with him, not after everything he’d done to your heart. But you were so curious. It was really hard to work with, especially if someone was a beginner.

“Can I show you something?” He asked.

“What?”

He looked at you, a newfound energy in him, “The…paintings I’ve been working on”

“Unless you’re going to pull over—”

“They’re in my phone. You can just…see them there”

You glanced at his phone that lay on the console.

“Um…are you sure?” You reached for his phone, and it was strange that he completely trusted you with it.

“Yeah. I don’t mind. There’s nothing I have to hide from you. The password…I can just type it in” He grabbed it from you, entering random numbers that you couldn’t grasp the significance of, before handing his unlocked phone back to you. The wallpaper was a pretty sunset. You recognised the landscape instantly. It must have been the pictures he took on the Ferris wheel with Seungmin, back at the summer carnival. Memories of that flooded through you. It had been a perfect day. You recalled the photobooth pictures that lay in your sketchbook, Hyunjin had put them there for you to find. You still didn’t understand why, or how he got a hold of them. As far as you knew, he’d deleted them in front of your eyes. You glanced at him; his eyebrows were knitted as he concentrated on driving, still occasionally mouthing the words to the song. You may never get this chance again. “How’d you get those pictures?” You broke the silence.

It took him a second to comprehend your question, and he turned casually, “Hmm?”

In this angle, confusion on his face, nose scrunched up, he looked so tame, so innocent. You already wished to take back what you’d said, in case it ruin this strange peace. It was too late to back up now as he stared at you so you said, “In my sketchbook, I found the photobooth strip. The pictures of us kissing. I…thought you deleted them”

His eyes widened, and he turned back to the road, voice dropping low, “Oh… It doesn’t really matter, Y/N”

His response irked you. It reminded you again that this was futile, whatever you chased for with Hyunjin. “Yeah. It doesn’t” You agreed, looking back at his phone in your hands. You opened up his picture gallery. Everything was divided into little folders, and his entire life was so organised. If you were his girlfriend, would there be a folder for you in it too? You clicked on the one which was so fittingly named ‘Art’. You were annoyed at him but you couldn’t pretend, “Oh. These are…really good, Hyunjin”

He clearly gravitated towards drawing flowers and landscapes. Some of them were familiar, most of them were new. There were so many pictures of flowers, at all stages. He must be drawing from life. It seemed like he’d developed a lot of art ever since he’d come back. They were all so intense and bold, no softness to them that watercolour provided. You’d always thought that Gouache was something in between watercolour and acrylic, a strange midway compromise, yet Hyunjin had made masterpieces out of it, “You did all of these in Gouache?”

He only nodded in response, as you scrolled through the gallery.

“You’re crazy” You said.

Hyunjin let out a laugh, “You really hate it that much?”

“It’s just difficult to work with, but you’re actually really great at these” You stared at the art, and how his technique had improved. All his lines were more confident, pronounced, bolder. He’d gotten so much better in your absence. You’d only gotten worse in his.

“So…how’s the apprenticeship going? Is Kim Jieong as nice as you thought?” He asked. You put his phone back on the console, even though you urged to see everything he’d felt worth storing in his phone. He had asked you a question so you tried to focus on that, “Yeah. He’s really nice. He is so talented. I, um, asked him about the painting, by the way. The one we were talking about”

“The one about the lovers drowning in moonlight?”

You nodded, hands feeling jittery, unable to stomach this casual conversation, “Yup. He was surprised it was my favourite. He thinks I have morbid taste. And… the day he took us to your work building, he wanted us to meet some gallery curator”

“Must have been Karina”

“You know her?” You glanced at him, hoping your face didn’t give anything away. How petty of you to be jealous that he knew another girl. Another artist at that. 

“She’s the prodigy I was telling you about. She wants me to…exhibit some of my work at a gallery next month”

Your eyes widened, and you fiddled with the zipper on the jacket, “Oh. That’s…a big deal. Are you allowed to do that?”

He looked at you, “Yeah, the company and Eunwoo’s really supportive. The fans love it, so he thinks it’s a great stream of revenue and publicity. Any press is good press. He couldn’t care less about the art” 

“Right” You nodded, watching him, “Well, maybe Kim Jieong will make it a field trip for us again. Your exhibition”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’d be really embarrassing. I wouldn’t want all your professional artist friends to judge my work”

“Well…they’re not as pretentious as you might think. My friends…they’re really nice. Everybody’s not bad. I mean…it was hard settling in, but…I think I like it now” You were rambling, without meaning to share so much with him. Maybe you’d just been craving to have a real conversation with him all this while. After all, he was the only person in your life who understood, “And Kim Jieong is my favourite part of it anyway. Even if everybody sucks. I look up to him a lot. He…even calls me sweetheart. It always throws me off” 

“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”

You frowned, not expecting that response, “No…he has different nicknames for everyone”

“I see” His reply was curt, like he didn’t believe that. He cleared his throat, “And um…your friends? The other students? Are they cool?”

“I mean, you’ve already met Jeonghan”

“Is that the boy who you were dancing with?”

“Yeah, that’s him”

Hyunjin stayed quiet for a minute and then he said, “He has two left feet”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry” He chuckled dryly, “When you were dancing with him, he almost dropped you…like ten times”

“He only came to the party for me, because I didn’t know anybody. Don’t make fun of him. He was kind of the best part of my day”

“I’m not making fun of him. It’s just an observation” Hyunjin mumbled, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes and he looked at you, “And I saw your face. You were worried he’d drop you too”

“I was not” Your eyes narrowed, but a stupid smile tugged at your lips, “Anyway. You’re one to talk. You’re probably worse”

He laughed properly this time, looking at you over his glasses, “Oh, am I?”

You shrugged, “We’ve never danced together so it could be true”

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m a professional dancer, Y/N” His tone was cocky.

You sighed, facing away to look out, “Ugh. Do you always have to bring up the idol card?”

“The idol card?” He repeated, “That’s my job, what do you mean?”

“Just seems like an unfair advantage”

Hyunjin chuckled, “Fine. Okay. Even if I wasn’t a professional dancer, I bet I’d still be able to take Jeonghan in a dance battle”

“I’m starting to think that you’re obsessed with him…”

Hyunjin laughed, “I guess I see why you chose him now”

Your gaze darted to his, “What?”

You arrived at a railway crossing. The signal was loud, and he stopped the car, foot on the brake as he slowed down. “He is your boyfriend…isn’t he?” He said, so surely. 

You stared at him, wondering how he could ask that so casually, so unaffected. You’d probably die if Hyunjin had a girlfriend. Did he think you’d move on so fucking fast? You woke and fell asleep to the thought of him every day still, months later. You thought of him every waking second. Maybe you should take a book out of Hyunjin’s ability to be vague, “Are you seriously asking me that?”

He looked at you, eyes heavy with emotion. He swallowed, “Yeah. I am”

You stared right back at him, heart pounding fast, “Yeah. I am dating him”

“Oh” He shifted in his seat, “That’s nice…how long have you known him?”

You couldn’t believe he could be so…casual about it. You looked out, “It doesn’t matter”

Hyunjin nodded, “Well. For what it’s worth, Nate seems like a nice guy”

You just couldn’t comprehend how the fuck he could be so casual about this. As if you two had just been an inconvenient situationship and your lives and souls hadn’t completely intertwined this summer. As if you’d just move away, and get a new boyfriend and fall in love. As if you could ever truly move on from Hyunjin. As if he didn't know that you'd been in love with him this whole time. It wasn’t that simple. It could never be.

“So…you really don’t give a fuck?”

“I’m sorry?” He looked at you, feigning innocence, “About what?”

You could have said so many things. Bitterness clawed out of you. “Well, for what it’s worth, Nate’s a great kisser”

His eyes widened, and he nodded, voice falling low, “I’m sure he is”

You couldn’t stop. You wanted your words to stab him like little knives he’d dug into your skin all this while, “And for what it’s worth, I actually trust him” 

Hyunjin tensed up, fists clenching at the wheel. The train was just passing by, and the signal was so loud but you knew he heard you. “I’m…glad you trust him” He ended up saying. 

You watched him, observing every micro-expression. You could have played along, egged him on, made him believe it. He should hurt too, like you were, but you couldn’t wrap your head around this. Was it really so easy for him to move on? He was pretending like nothing ever affected him. Were you seriously the only one who had been invested in the two of you? You let out a laugh, “So that’s it?”

“What?” He looked at you.

“You don’t care? You really think I would just date…a random guy from my class? Because if you think that, you don’t—”

His brows shot up, “I’m sorry, so you’re not dating him? Why would you tell me you were?” 

“Do you care if I was?”

He frowned, eyebrows furrowing, “Seriously? You know I still care about you, right?”

It pissed you off. He had no right to say something like that when he didn’t give a fuck about you. He had just abandoned you, with no intention of ever making up things, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I mean…everything you’ve done to me the past few months has shown me quite the opposite. That you don’t care”

His eyes widened, “Everything I’ve done to you?”

A scoff escaped you, and you were losing it, “I’m sure you had your reasons for never wanting to talk to me again. I, personally, would have just liked a goodbye or an explanation before you decided to leave. That’s just me though. But you know what? Maybe I read too much in what happened this summer”

He swallowed, shifting to look at you, “Look, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. I didn’t know how to explain and I thought that you would understand—”

How the fuck could he expect you to understand? Your voice shot up, and everything you'd wondered over the past few months bubbled to the surface, “You…pushed me away, Hyunjin. You completely got rid of me! I’m sure you had your reasons, but I wasn’t okay. I’m still not fucking okay. It was a complete asshole move to block me for months with no explanation. I didn’t even know you’re capable of something like that, but you know what, it sucks to find out. In my head, I built you up to be some angel on a fucking pedestal. That was obviously my mistake” 

He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and you could see him grappling with what to say. It felt good to render him speechless. It took away from your embarrassment of knowing that Kairi and Chan could probably hear each second of this conversation. 

“Things were always going to end this way. You knew that, Y/N” The way he spoke pissed you off, like he had a rehearsed answer in his head and no real fucking emotions. Why could he just not tell you what he truly felt? Why was he trying so hard to be someone he was not?

A dry chuckle escaped you, and it was better you take out your anger on him because you felt like crying with each word you said, “No, I didn’t know that. if I knew that you were just going to disappear, I would have preferred never to know you”

His gaze burned through you, “Y/N…”

Somebody suddenly knocked on Hyunjin’s window, and you shook away your building tears. It was an officer, and Hyunjin rolled down the window, “Yes?”

He leaned in, not knowing what he was interrupting, “Excuse me? The signal’s running at a delay. There’s going to be a ten minute hold-up”

Hyunjin nodded, “Oh okay”

He rolled the window back up, and looked back at you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even look at him. You hated him and his fucking nonchalance. You swallowed, “I need some air”

Before he could say something, you opened the door, stepping out. There would be a delay anyway, and hardly any cars were behind you. You walked to the side of the street, taking in a breath, willing yourself to not start fucking cry.

Another car door slammed shut behind you, and Hyunjin followed you out.

“Y/N—” He said, walking around the car, following you to the side.

Your emotions were brimming to the top, and you couldn’t keep it in. It would be petty, mean, childish but you deserved to get some answers.

You turned around, voice raising, “If I hadn’t moved to the city, you would have never met me again” It wasn’t a question. You knew he had no plans of returning to town anytime this century, “And you were just okay with that? With never seeing me again?”

He closed his eyes, his body towering over you, “It’s…not that simple”

“Yeah. It is. You didn’t even think I was worth an explanation…or a proper goodbye?”

“I…didn’t know what to say. You just have to believe when I say I’m doing this for your own good”

“Really?” You scoffed, “You expect me to believe that…? You could’ve said anything.  Anything would have been better than what I got. Just tell me what's going on, please”

“Anything I said would have hurt you” His voice was shaking, like he was going to cry. How could he ever explain that he had picked his life over you? That you were the sacrifice he had decided to make?

You loved him, and you couldn’t bear to be the reason he cried but you had so many questions. Your voice was loud, in disbelief and frustration, “How is this any different? You cut me out of your life like it was nothing”

“It wasn’t nothing. It was just as hard for me as—”

“No, I’m not done talking. After losing you, moving to the city was the hardest thing I ever did. Leaving Daejon behind, all my friends…the only life I knew, and this place where I don’t really fit perfectly, but I’m trying so hard to. It is so hard. The only thing I love…I can’t even love that anymore because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you when I’m painting! It’s not fair. You had a choice, Hyunjin. I didn’t” Your voice broke.

“Before I saw you in the shop, I was this close to calling you up” He held up a small gap between his fingers, “I just…always ended up talking myself out of it”

A scoff escaped you, at the ridiculousness of his response, “I really have a hard time believing that”

“I don’t expect you to believe me anyway” He mumbled. You stared at him, crossing your arms, wondering how everything led to this, “I thought you were different, Hyunjin, from every other guy I’ve known in my life… but you…”

He stepped closer to you, running a hand through his hair, “What was I supposed to say to you, Y/N? That I never want to see you again? Do you think that would be easy for me to say?”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin! I don’t fucking know, but anything would have been better than what I got, because the person I knew would never have acted this drastically. So, were you just pretending in Daejon? Or are you pretending now? Because I’m having a real hard time telling who the real you is, Hyunjin—”

His eyes widened at those words, as if they personally struck him. He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him in the process, “Y/N— Stop. I’m not…I never pretended with you”

His grip on you was firm, but enough that you could let go if you wanted. You looked up at him, and you were already so emotional, “Then why are you being so cold? You’ve been acting like you don’t care, but I don’t even know if you’re acting anymore. I feel like…I never saw the real you. That’s what you’re making me believe”

His closed his eyes, shaking his head at your words like they were the worst thing he could hear, “I’m sorry”

Your eyebrows knitted together, voice fading, “For…what?”

“For…changing my number and not telling you” He swallowed, and his hands held yours in between them like a prayer, “For…trying to push you away. For ignoring you in the shop”

His eyes glimmered with incoming tears, but he cleared his throat, and blinked them away, “I’m sorry I didn’t apologise until today”

You swallowed. You’d been waiting for an apology this whole time, but your heart still hurt. There wasn’t any explanation. You couldn’t…just believe him. Your heart squeezed so bad, it felt like a heart attack. You blinked away tears.

“There’s…a lot I want to talk to you about, but I can’t do it here” He swallowed, and there was a cloud of smoke when he talked, it was freezing outside but your heart felt dead, “You just have to believe me when I say I’m doing this for your own good”

“I don’t understand…”

He closed his eyes, and the train at the signal crossing was still passing, giving you a few more moments of his vulnerability, “I’ve told you before. If we didn’t stop talking when we did…it would have led to something more that I can’t deny. I’m not going to regret my choices because I know why I made them. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I will always fucking care about you, it’s insane to even think anything else but…I can’t be in your life, and you can’t be in mine”

Tears threatened to shoot up, but you had some dignity clinging on so you said, “Then what is this? Why are you still being nice to me, making conversation? Why did you show up tonight? Why are you driving me home? If you don’t want me in your life, then just…stay out of it, Hyunjin”

He blinked, glossy eyes, and suddenly the car behind you honked. The train had passed, and you were free to cross.

His voice was shaking and this was the most emotion you’d seen in him in months, “I…couldn’t leave you at the party. It’s not safe…of course I had to drive you home. I would go insane if something happened to you”

You ripped your hands away from him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not your responsibility anymore”

»»————-

The rest of the ride was fucking horrible. You stared out the window the entire time, and Hyunjin didn’t say anything else. Maybe it really was over now. What was left to salvage? You don’t know how much Kairi and Chan had heard, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were probably getting back together, which meant you couldn’t be a part of this anymore. If Kairi started hanging out with Chan again, you would obviously not be invited. Not after they witnessed you being such a bitch to their best friend. They were friends first, after all. You were the stranger.

“The next right turn” You mumbled, as you approached the street you lived on. Hyunjin brought the car to a stop. They were now awake in the backseat. You didn’t even know what to say. You unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbing your bag of things, avoiding eye contact with anybody, “Thank you for the ride home”

“I can walk you home” Chan offered.

“I’ll be fine. It’s a minute away” You replied, holding your bag to your chest.

“It’s really late out” Chan replied, insisting. You didn’t want to argue with him any further. The longer you argued, the longer you’d have to stay in this car, next to Hyunjin. He was looking at you, but he was pretending real hard not to. The eyes flickering back and forth, it couldn’t fool you. You’d become an expert on all things him. These secretive glances were all you had back then, so how could you not notice them now?

“Don’t worry about it, Chan” You replied, shooting them a smile so they believed you. Chan nodded, and you glanced at Kairi. She looked tired, but she was in his arms, so she was clearly very happy. She smiled warmly, and you wonder if they’d heard you breaking down. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Thank you for a perfect birthday, Y/N. You had a good time?”

“Of course.” You nodded. You were suffocating in here. You reached for the doorknob, but then you heard Hyunjin’s voice, “Good luck with class”

You couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but you’d die for it. You stepped out into the cold, glancing briefly back, “Yeah. Thanks.”

It didn’t matter because he had already looked away. It’s like he couldn’t bear to see you anymore.

»»————-

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your neighbour, Jeongin, stood in the doorway. You had been standing in the cold for a while, staring at the spot the car had been. It had driven off a while ago, but you could still picture it where it stood. The humming of the engine, the heat, the stupid 80s music stuck in your head. You had been so mean to him. He didn’t deserve it.

You looked at him in surprise, “You’re awake?”

“I work on European time” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. It was freezing cold, and you could feel it in your bones. It had never been this way back home. “Let’s just go inside” You spoke.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea” He smiled, pulling you in by your arm, “I was wondering how the party went”

You followed him up the stairs, feeling like a zombie in each step, “It was good. I missed you at it. You should have come”

“I’m sure Nate kept you plenty company” Jeongin laughed, “Are you going to go to sleep now?”

It was almost six am, and the sun was rising. You don’t think you could fall asleep with these thoughts in your head. You glanced at him, “Why? You got something in mind?”

He grinned, like he'd been waiting for you to ask him this. And so you spent the dawn with Jeongin, in his cosy apartment, struggling over a 1000-piece puzzle and downing the red wine he’d brought you. He didn’t ask you any questions, which was nice. You wouldn’t even know where to start. He was sweet and he was always smiling, telling you about his work and all the new video games he’d bought. You prolonged everything, asking more questions, anything to keep the focus on him. You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment and face your thoughts.

“How long have you been living here?” You asked. The window in his apartment was bigger than yours, facing out at the busy street, as the city woke up and came back to life.

“Almost my entire life. Moved here when I was twelve” He told you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be excited about this anymore, or about anything else. You missed your friends, the familiarity and comfort of them. You missed the diner, and it’s cheap coffee.

“Does it ever get easy?”

He laughed, “Honestly, no. Seoul…is hard to fall in love with, but once you do…you never go back”

You sighed, placing the final piece of the puzzle. You missed your art shop. It had always kept you safe and happy. If you knew it was going to be this hard leaving that behind, you would have thought twice, “I think…some people probably never get used to it. That makes me sad”

“Yeah?” He asked, “But you’re used to it now, aren’t you? You once told me it was written in the stars for you to come here”

“I don’t know if I believe in that anymore”

He relaxed on his couch, “I’m sure things will change. You’ll find something worth staying for”

You shrugged, pushing the puzzle to the side and it fell apart, all the pieces getting jumbled up. He didn’t complain about you ruining your hours worth of hard work. He just watched you grapple with your thoughts. You looked up at him, feeling hollow inside, “I think I made a mistake, Jeongin”

»»————-

Kairi had apparently found the best dessert shop in the city. She had pleaded you for hours until you’d decided to come. There were no seats inside the place, it was so busy, and so you and Kairi sat on a patio table outside. You looked around, as you swirled your hot coffee around. There were no leaves on the trees anymore. Winter had finally come.

“I’m going to bring Chris this when he gets back” She spoke, through a mouthful of brownie, “He doesn’t really have a sweet tooth, but I know he will love this. I once baked the boys this cake for Jisung’s birthday, and Chris said he hated it, but I saw him eat all the leftovers later. He literally stole mine too!” She laughed.

“When he’s back from where?”

“Oh, right. They’re in Japan. They had a flight the morning after my birthday, remember? Well, they’re supposed to show up at an event in Tokyo, and then they come back home for a few days, until they go back again. It’s the end of the season so there’s a bunch of award shows” She told you, sprinkling sugar crystals into her coffee. You didn’t know that they were in an entirely different country, “Must be hard. All the flying back and forth”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, “Not really. They’re used to it at this point. It’s tiring, but…in their line of work, they have to learn to adjust”

Maybe that was your biggest flaw. You couldn’t adjust. To a different life, to new friends, to a new bed. To a life without him. 

“I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday”

Her eyes widened, and she kept her cup of coffee down, “What are you talking about? You’re the one that made it perfect. You made it happen in the first place!”

“Yeah, but…” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed, “You must have heard us”

She swallowed, “I didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t my business to.”

You looked up at her, “Chan must hate me”

“What? Why would he?”

You looked down, “I’m…an asshole”

She reached ahead, grabbing your hand, “No one thinks you’re an asshole”

You let out a sigh, and you didn’t believe her, but there was no point arguing. 

The next week, the boys flew back home. You only knew because Kairi told you. She had been counting down the days till they returned. She invited you out to a small get-together, but they would all be there. You said no. 

Slowly, all your plans with Kairi became into plans with Kairi and Chan. You wouldn’t mind at all, because you loved Chan. You just hated that he almost always came with Hyunjin. So you never went to any of those. He would be grateful. He probably never wanted to see you again either. Your time with Kairi became divided. You didn’t blame her. She was in love, and you wouldn’t deny her any time with him. It became obvious how much happier she was around him.

A week later, you realised you still had Hyunjin’s sweater that he’d given to you at the party. So, you washed it and returned it to Kairi, hoping he wasn’t angry that you kept it with you for so long. You’d truthfully forgotten. You wouldn’t want to keep anything of his longer than you had to anyway. 

»»————-

Nate was staring in awe at your painting. It was balanced on the easel, and you stood next to it, embarrassed at the attention it got. Nate laughed in disbelief, “Holy shit. That’s…beautiful. When did you get the time to make that?”

It was show-and-tell day. You were almost in the middle of your semester, and you were supposed to display your best work in class. You looked back at your painting. Ever since Kairi’s birthday, you hadn’t left your room. You’d been fixated on this. There was only one good thing left for you here, and it was this opportunity. You’d do anything to grasp at it, and maybe all your sadness and heartbreak had ended up being perfect inspiration. You had been endlessly inspired, each brushstroke came to you so easily. Perhaps all good art did come from suffering. Your best work to date you’d done when feeling your worst. You’d sniffled, and cried and fought your way through it.

“I…found time” You shrugged. Your hands were folded behind your back as you explained it to every single person who passed it. All the easels were set up in a circle, and it was almost like those expensive Château classes you could never afford to go to. Nate smiled at you, tilting his head, “You’re so mysterious. It suits you”

“I’m really not trying to be” You replied, “It just…came to me”

His eyes trailed over you. You’d tried to dress your best, an outfit you’d bought off the fancy boutiques, and it had cost you a fortune but none of your own clothes would fit the vibe. Nate’s voice dropped, “Is it weird if I say that you being coy is a turn-on?” 

You smiled at him, wondering why his words had no effect on you. He made you feel wanted. He flirted with you endlessly. He was attracted to you. He actually wanted to talk to you. 

But you knew that was all. He didn’t want to date you. He certainly didn’t have any intentions of a relationship. Perhaps, you didn’t want to just be wanted anymore. 

“Mmh. It’s…a little weird” You teased him.

Kim Jieong approached you, and you straightened up, pulling Nate to the side. He glanced at your painting, and he certainly looked impressed. There was a small smile on his lips, and he was observing your art with all the focus in the world, “How many hours did you spend on this?”

“Maybe…twenty”

He laughed at your feeble attempt of lying, “That looks like…it took a hundred, at the least. Is it all you did this week?”

You nodded, “That’s what I’m here for”

He looked at your painting again, “As your professor, I have to say that I wish you hadn’t sacrificed sleep for this, but…” He leaned in closer, voice dropping, “This is exactly why I picked you, sweetheart”

Your eyes widened, not used to this proximity, but you felt so special. He hadn’t said this to anybody else. He was far too close to you, but you blinked at him, “Are you proud of me?”

He laughed, lifting a finger up, “You’re not there yet”

Your face fell.

“I’ll be proud of you if you can get that done in a day” He smiled wide, hands clasped behind his back, “You should start preparing for next week. I want you to make something special. If you win, it’d mean a lot for you, Y/N”

You nodded, remembering the assignment. The best painting in the class would be chosen for a prize. A scholarship, and the chance to get your work displayed in Seoul Museum of Art. It would certainly make everything much easier, taking the burden off you, and you’d also get a perfect start. You would finally be able to prove your worth here.

»»————-

You’d been painting all day, and your clothes were ruined with stains. You were working on the assignment for next week, it had to be perfect to win, and you hadn't got much sleep, completely immersing yourself into this. In a little break, you laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the call to go through. Yeonjun picked up your phone call, and he sounded so happy on the other end. It had been a while since you’d talked to him and he apologised, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work. There was a company retreat last week, and we went out to these cabins in the woods. It was straight from a horror movie, and there was no network there. I took some pictures for you though”

“How did it go? That sounds nice, to be away from everything”

He laughed, “It was. I missed you though. But…I have some news to tell you…something happened”

“Yeah?”

“Remember the girl from my work I said was cute? She…kissed me. We actually, ended up making out in the hot tub. It was really fucking nice” You could imagine him smiling on the other end, and it warmed your heart. You sat up, smiling, “Are you serious? That’s so…amazing. So…you guys made out? Is that all that happened?”

He laughed on the other end, “No. We…slept together. Every night of the retreat”

Your eyes widened, “You’re kidding me. So, you really really like this girl”

“I mean, yeah, things with her are so…simple and easy. She gets me, and she’s so fun to be around. Sometimes that’s just how it has to be”

You thought of the polaroids on his desk of Hana, “Did she never ask about the pictures on your work desk?”

Yeonjun laughed nervously, “I…ended up taking those down. It’s easier to move on that way. I mean, I won’t ever be over her, but…it’s a start”

“Yeah. You’re probably right”

“I may have discovered a new kink about myself” He joked, “I have an urge to just move to that cabin and live in that hot tub forever”

You smiled, “Maybe you should”

“How about you though?”

“Well…I’ve been trying to make my magnum opus. If I have the best painting in class, I get to win this insane amount of money for a scholarship, and…it’ll be perfect”

“Well, you’re obviously going to win. I already know you’re the best in class”

You smiled, “I appreciate your faith in me…I think I’m going to start working on it in the classroom. It’s going to be a really big canvas, and there’s not much space in my apartment”

“That makes sense. And um, I wanted to ask, how are things with…Hyunjin? Did you guys ever talk after you saw him in the shop?”

You lay back down, and the lie was on easy on your tongue, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since then”

“Wow. He…hasn’t even reached out to you?”

You shrugged, echoing his words from before, “I don’t care. It’s easier to move on that way”

»»————-

Your canvas lay across multiple tables, occupying most of the space in your classroom. You’d joined them all together, it had taken a lot of strength, but it was worth it. Now, you sat on top of the paper cross-legged in the center. It was easier to work this way, as if the entire floor was your painting. You hope you weren’t breaking any rules by being in the classroom after hours. You’d just wanted some time to work on your painting, and you weren’t exactly inspired at your place. Your anger from the past few days had manifested into this; an insane obsession to make this your best work ever. You would prefer that over sadness. This, after all, was the only reason you’d come here. Not for him. It was almost midnight, and you scooted across the canvas, filling in more details of your sketch. Your plan was far too ambitious, but you were going to have to go all out to win the contest. It was the only thing you cared about right now.

“I didn’t know anybody was in here” The voice made you jump. Nobody was supposed to come in here right now, the building was shut down. You glanced up, watching Kim Jieong walk in, and you smiled at him, “Professor. Hi”

His eyes narrowed in on your silhouette, and a familiar smile across his face, “Oh, it’s you. What…in god’s name are you doing on top of the tables?”

“Um, my canvas is pretty big, so I thought it’d be easier to work like this” You explained. He laughed loudly, “You’re adorable, Y/N. You know that?”

You sat back down comfortably, realising he would let you stay here, “Um. Thank you, professor”

He looked around, “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt you. Why is it so dark in here though? I can hardly see you"

Adjusting your canvas and brushes around it, you spoke, “I like it that way. I think much better in the dark, the lights were too bright. Plus, the moonlight looks really nice”

You think he smiled at your words but you couldn’t tell in the dark. You could barely see him, just his silhouette and you heard him laugh. You heard his footsteps as he approached his own desk, “So, we’re far from the final project. I’m curious why you’re in the studio”

You bit your lip, feeling anxious about all this effort you were putting in, “I’m working on the contest painting. The scholarship…I really want to try my best. I also don’t work too well at my apartment, I thought maybe I could work here”

“When I got a notification that a student was still in the studio, I was curious. I had to cut my dinner short”

“Oh” You blinked, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it notified you…”

“Of course, it’s for the safety of our students” He smiled, stepping towards your workspace, “Would you indulge me in what you’re working on…or is it a surprise?”

Your canvas wasn’t ready to show, “I’d prefer if you see it when it’s finished”

He laughed, and asked, “May I sit next to you?”

“Oh, you won’t be getting back to your dinner?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, I’d like to stay here with you”

He was perhaps the only person in the world you wanted to be around right now, so you didn’t mind. His presence would calm and comfort you, “Of course. That’d be fine with me, professor”

He pulled a stool up close to your workspace. The greenhouse-studio was deathly quiet and he inched closer to your table. You stared at your big sketch, “I’m really sorry about interrupting your dinner. I thought it’d be fine if I let myself in”

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. My wife was pretty tired anyway. Just gave us a reason to end the night early”

He was at dinner with his wife? You didn’t even know he was married, but he was in his late thirties so it made sense. You continued adding details, but you couldn’t focus when he was observing you so close. Thankfully the dark could conceal your expressions and embarrassment. You ought to feel proud. The greatest artist in the country was here to watch you paint.

“Have you…eaten dinner yet?” You heard him ask. You glanced up, gesturing to the side of the classroom where your leftovers lay, “Yeah, I had some chinese takeout. Although when I’m painting, I don’t get hungry for hours.”

He just hummed in response. You were grateful that your mentor wanted to sit with you so badly that he skipped dinner with his wife. But the other part disliked the supervision, and you did want some alone time. Still, he was the greatest living artist, so you’d learn to adjust to it. After everything that had happened, he was also your only hope of making it big in the city. He was the sole reason you were still here, spending thousands just to stay in Seoul so you could attend the classes. You looked at him, and he was admiring you while you worked, so you said, “I might be here all night. I wouldn’t want to keep you"

He frowned, “I don’t mind staying. I could get some work done too”

“Oh…sure” You looked back at your sketch, erasing off a mistake. He stood up, walking towards the cabinet, sifting through canvases. Usually, you weren’t awkward around him, but right now it was really late and you were tired to make small talk. But it’d be weirder if you just stayed quiet. You felt a need to fill in the silence with anything, “So, Professor, um…your wife. How did you meet her?”

He shrugged in your peripheral vision, not particularly excited to answer, “The usual. We were high school sweethearts. Got married as soon as we graduated. I was too focused on my art to pursue other women anyway”

You nodded. Well, that made it even more awkward. So you kept going, “Right. Wow. High school, that’s really cool. Was she…any of the inspirations for your paintings?”

“Some of them, yes”

“That’s really nice.” You smiled, sketching out the boundaries for the stars. The idea for this painting had come to you after waking from a dreamless sleep. You’d ended up researching for it for hours, making sure you were portraying accurate art. You couldn’t wait to present your concept next week.

“What about you?” He asked.

“Sorry?” 

“You have a boyfriend?”

You blinked, a nervous laugh escaping you, “Um…not currently. I’m also…I guess, trying to focus on my art, and build a career from it”

He smiled at you, crossing his arms, “Guess we’re more alike than I thought”

You looked back at your canvas as he walked closer to you, “The temptation to understand your sketch is a lot. Can you give me a hint as to what it’s about?”

You slid your sketchbook towards him, where you’d drawn up a miniature version of the sketch, “All I can tell you now is that it’s…a landscape, inspired by my time in the city so far. I was walking home the other night and I couldn’t help but notice the night sky. I’ve always liked it, and I know it’s been overdone in art, but I wanted to explore a new side of it. Someone once told me that there’s no stars in the city, which just…sounds so sad. I was thinking along the lines of that. What do you think so far?”

He pushed his glasses up, a proud smile on his face, “I think that…I’m incredibly lucky to have you. I can't wait to see what you'll do with this”

Your eyes widened, unsure how to respond, “Um…I mean, we’re the lucky ones. We get to study under you, Professor”

He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty studio, “Stop calling me Professor. I think you and me are way past that, don’t you?”

“It’s…only appropriate.” You frowned, going back to work. That was weird. You don't think you would feel comfortable calling him by his first name. And then, you felt another stupid need to fill in the prolonged silence. He was here watching you after all, you could just ask him all the things you’d wondered for years, “Um, I wanted to ask. The painting about the moons. Celestial Fatality. Did you paint that when you were in college?”

He hummed mindlessly, not really answering your question, then he grabbed your sketchbook off the table. Eyebrows furrowed, he stared at it, "I think you can work on your perspective, but these are nice. These hands. You’ve drawn them countless times”

“Yeah” You felt embarrassed, and climbed off the table so you could also see what he was looking at, “It’s a friend from back home”

“Did you draw these from observation?” He asked, as you joined him at his side.

“Hmm. He really wanted me to draw his hands,” You said, recalling the time Hyunjin made you observe them.

Kim Jieong laughed, “Can’t blame him”

A nervous laugh escaped you at those words, “Yeah.” What did he mean by that? You reached to get your sketchbook back. Instead of handing it to you though, he sat down on the desk, turning the pages of your book, “These ones are pretty good too”

“Yeah” You nodded, taking a seat next to him, unsure of what to do, “I made those a while ago”

As he turned another page, something drifted out, landing on the floor. Your eyes widened, and you reached for it. The photobooth strip pictures of you and Hyunjin. You felt embarrassed, but thankfully, Kim Jieong didn’t notice or see them fall out. You grabbed them, hiding them between your palms on your lap. There was nothing wrong with him seeing them, but…it was embarrassing and stupid to carry around pictures of a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 

“You’re very talented” Kim Jieong spoke again, voice dropping low.

“Oh…thank you. It means a lot hearing it from someone like you” 

He finally put your sketchbook to the side, looking right at you. He did look kind of intimidating in this light, towering over you, “This scholarship means a lot to you?”

You swallowed, feeling embarrassed, “Yeah. I could use the help. It’s an expensive life here, and I’d really appreciate it. Plus, the exhibition would be a great kickstart to…a career”

“The others don’t need the scholarship. They just want it so they can win” He said, then leaned forward, “Don’t the rich kids get on your nerves sometimes? They don’t act out of necessity, but you…” He pointed a soiled paintbrush at you, “You’re wonderful because… you’re desperate”

“I’m sorry?”

“Desperate to be seen, and respected. As an artist, I mean. I don’t mean that badly, but all great inventions are born out of necessity. I think that’s why you stand out from the rest”

You didn’t know how to take this compliment, “I guess”

“You know you have the potential to go so many places?” He asked, tilting his head, waving your sketchbook about in one hand. It was so dark in here, and the building was completely empty except for the two of you. This…felt increasingly inappropriate. You were in the studio after-hours with your professor and he was far too close for comfort. He was your favourite artist…but he was still a grown man and you didn’t want to overstep as a student.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged and stepped closer to you, caging you against the table, “I mean, the right people can get you into any exhibition you dream of in the world. Paris, New York, Seoul. Isn’t that what you fantasise?”

An awkward chuckle escaped you. He was far too close to you, “Yeah. That’s the end goal. The scholarship…would definitely make it easier to get there”

Suddenly, the sound of roaring thunder distracted you and you looked to the windows. The clouds had now hidden the moon, casting a dark shadow over the entire art studio. A chill ran up your spine, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable at his proximity.

“Um..I think the last bus home leaves in twenty minutes. I’ll try to catch it” You stated, shooting him a smile and standing up.

You took your bag, but Kim Jieong grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him, “You can always convince me”

“Sorry?” You fumbled, stupidly. You…had to have heard him wrong. What was he talking about?

He smiled sweetly, and in the dark, his glasses glittered, “If you won the scholarship, the other students wouldn’t question it, you’ve already proven your worth to everyone”

“Right” You were unsure what he was trying to say, or hinting at. What the fuck did he mean by saying that you could convince him? “I should really go”

“It’s pouring. You’ll catch your death out there, Y/N” He stated, pointing to the storm outside. You swallowed, his grip on your arm foreign, “That’s fine. I have an umbrella”

“Ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride home” He shook his head.

“You really don’t have to. I already feel bad for ruining your dinner”

“Oh, stop apologising, Y/N. Your sweet talk drives me mad sometimes” His hand moved from your arm to your waist, wrapping around it and he pulled you closer to his body, "You stress too much. You need to learn to let things go”

You took a step back, unsure how to process this, “Professor…”

He closed the distance, and his other hand grabbed your chin, voice low in the dark room, “Why do you seem so nervous? You don’t have to be around me. We’re just talking, aren’t we?”

“Right” You were having a hard time breathing, panic surging through you. He was right. Of course. He was your professor. He would never hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He was a living legend. You shouldn’t be nervous. He was just being kind to you. He was the only person you’d looked up to your entire life, the reason you’d tried so hard to come here, and he would never do something wrong.

“I can see you struggling in class, and I know you’re doing everything you can to prove your worth. I’ve asked you this before, about what your dream is. ” He spoke, voice as low as a whisper, fingers gripping your jaw. 

“I…I don’t know what you mean” Your voice was shaking from the nerves, with no fucking idea how to navigate this situation. If you pushed him away, you’d lose all chance of winning the prize.

“Well….whatever it is” He smiled sweetly, and in the low light he looked less like the mentor you’d grown up loving and more menacing, “All you have to do…is ask me”

His eyes flickered to your lips, and back to your eyes. His grip on your waist was so tight, it felt like his palm was burning into your skin through your shirt. Had you somehow given him an alluded hint? He took a step even closer.

“I’m sorry….” You pushed him just enough so he wasn’t holding you anymore.

He looked surprised, eyes wide, and he laughed, “Y/N…What are you doing?” You grabbed your bag in a hurry, “I’m sorry. I should really go. The last bus…”

He called after you, but you rushed through the glass doors to the emergency stairwell. You didn’t want to be stuck in the elevator with him. You couldn’t breathe, legs moving off their own accord. A flash of lightning through the glass windows scared you, and you all but ran down the emergency stairwell, bag hanging off your shoulder, fists clenched. What the fuck. He obviously wasn’t making a move on you, right? You were just being paranoid. He was your professor. He was…the most famous artist in Seoul. He was the kindest person ever. You had to have been reading into things. 

You pushed the heavy door open, walking out onto the street. It was pouring rain, and you let out a breath, taking in the air. The rain soaked through your clothes, and you were shivering. You wanted to call Hyunjin so he could pick you up and so you could cry in his arms, the only place where you'd feel safe, but he'd never even given you his new number. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. You looked down at your hands, and in your tension…you’d completely crushed the photobooth strip to pieces. 

Raindrops slowly trickled down, tracing the ruined paper in your palm. The only memory left of you and Hyunjin was now gone.

»»————-

You didn’t show up to class the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

You were still trying to wrap your head around it. Were you stupid for declining his advances and whatever he was suggesting? You couldn’t go back to class and face him. You’d be too embarrassed of your reaction. Maybe he wasn’t even suggesting anything and you jumped to conclusions. You had to have been imagining things. After all, he didn't actually do anything. Still, you’d ruined all your chances of getting the scholarship and succeeding in his class. What if he brought it up in class? What would the others think?

Your body was shaking from the cold. The heating in your apartment wasn’t working, so you sat on the floor, back to the kitchen counter, knees pulled up. You’d forgotten your huge canvas in class too, and it was probably in the garbage by now.

Your phone buzzed loudly, and Felix was calling. You picked up so he wouldn’t worry, but your voice sounded hollow, “Yes?”

“Babe. Where have you been? You’re not answering any texts the past week”

“I’m sorry…I got caught up in things. Is everything okay, Felix?”

“More than okay” He smiled on the other end, “I’m at the diner. They’re throwing a big party tonight! Apparently, it’s been ten years since it opened! Can you believe it?”

“Wow…it feels like we’d been going there our whole life”

“That’s what I said!” His excited voice came in, “So anyway for their anniversary celebration…all the drinks and food is free. You best believe I’m making full use of it”

You could hear so many familiar voices in the back, “Who all is there…?”

“Umm…well me and Minho, obviously. Hana’s here too. Seonmi, Eunbi and the others. Seungmin’s here as well.”

“Wow…I really wish I was there, Felix”

“Mm, I wish that too. Your apprenticeship better be worth it, Y/N. You’re missing all the good stuff. And everybody in Daejon misses you a lot. Mrs. Aera came up to me today and said the shop’s a mess without you haha”

“Really? It is? Mina isn’t taking care of it?”

“Ah, you know how Mina is. She can’t organise for the life of her. That shop was basically running because of you” He laughed, and you could hear him chew something.

“What are you eating?”

“Blueberry-chocolate waffles. There’s this new recipe Seonmi is trying out, and it’s so good. You should have it when you come back. How about you, love? Are you missing me a lot?”

“So much” You mumbled.

“Kim Jieong better be worth it” He sighed, “I guess I forgive you because you’ve been obsessed with him for years. Is he as dreamy as you imagined?”

“Um…” Your gut hurt, the memory of that night flooding through you, “Yeah. He’s…great”

“I’m sure he is” Felix chuckled, “I still remember how you stole all the magazines in the library that had his paintings in it”

“I didn’t steal them” You protested, “I just…borrowed them for a really long time”

He laughed, “To fawn all over your artist crush. I get it. And…what about your other lover? You accidentally bumped into him yet?”

You forced a smile, not having enough energy to protest that he wasn’t your lover, “No…I haven’t seen him”

“Well. Seoul isn’t that big, I’m sure you’ll find him. Or he’ll find you. Oh, I also forgot to tell you! A new cafe opened up in Daejon last week. It’s some fusion book-and-coffee cafe. They actually have the best coffee in town, no you didn’t hear me say that Seonmi” He started laughing, and you could hear them in the background. Suddenly, the past few months felt like a joke.

There were only two reasons you’d uprooted your life and come here. Now, you’d lost them both. 

So why were you still here?

Maybe you had acted rashly. You thought you’d fit in here, and that this was where you were meant to be. You’d felt stuck there, but here you weren’t any better. You'd probably only found the courage to come here because you knew Hyunjin was here too, and that was clearly...not the right thing to do. He didn't even want you near him, or anywhere in his life. He had made that plenty clear.

“I think I made a mistake” You whispered.

“Sorry?” Felix asked, still laughing loudly, “What mistake?”

“Moving out…I shouldn’t have done that”

“Wait…what? What do you mean?”

“I think I should come home”

“You’re messing with me. Right?” Felix laughed, “Didn’t you want to move to the city since you were fifteen?”

“But I was a kid. I didn’t know anything. I had no idea what to expect”

“Y/N…what are you saying?”

“I was happy in Daejon. I should never have come to Seoul” You stood up, moving to your bedroom.

It was like a parasite, an idea festering into your brain and heart, that maybe this was the reason for this unhappiness. Things were perfect in Daejon. Why had you been complaining all your life? All of your happy memories were there, so the logical thing to do…was go back to where they were created. Then you’d be happy again. You hadn’t learnt how to be happy in this house, in this city, in this new life. 

“Babe. I would be the happiest boy in the world if you came home to me, but maybe you should think this through. Did something happen? Why are you being like this?”

You grabbed your duffel bag off the shelf, “I can’t go back to class, Felix! I can’t. I messed up, big time”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t. You could never—”

“You don’t even know what happened!” You yelled. He fell silent on the other end, “Love. Just…what’s going on?”

You stared at your empty bag, “I’m…coming home. I should never have come here”

“Is that Y/N?” Minho’s familiar, comforting voice came in. You wanted to hug him and never let go. They were so far away. “Yeah” Felix responded to him, voice falling, “She says she’s…coming home”

“Give me the phone” Minho mumbled, “Y/N. What’s going on?”

You tossed your clothes in your bag, messily zipping it up, “I can’t stay here, Min”

“But what about the art classes?”

“If I don’t withdraw, I’ll probably be kicked out anyway” You mumbled, “I didn’t go to classes all week"

“You should think this through”

“I have thought it through! It was a stupid fucking mistake. One I needed to make. You know what they say anyway. The grass is greener on the other side. I just fell for the charms of the city, like everybody else”

“No disrespect but you’re making no sense” Minho’s voice was harsh, “You can’t just give up”

“Can you give the phone back to Felix please?” You asked.

“Fine” You heard it being passed around and then his voice came in, “Love. I’m here”

“Lix” You swallowed, “I know it seems like I’m being irrational, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I know it’s embarrassing and stupid, but maybe I was never supposed to be here”

Felix’s voice was so soft, calm, encouraging. You just needed to be near him, in his arms. “I believe you, Y/N. I’m gonna be okay with whatever you decide. I just really want you to think about this”

“I…I want to hug you, Lix” A sniffle escaped you, “I don’t want to go back to class” The idea had completely taken over you.

“Are you sure?”

“Nothing can make me stay” You swallowed. There was a sigh of resignation on the other end, and you knew he wouldn’t fight with you. He would agree with whatever you decided, and that’s what you needed right now. That’s why you called him, and not Yeonjun, or your other friends. Felix was the one person who wanted you home more than anything. He wouldn’t talk you out of it, even if this seemed like the stupidest decision you might be making. 

“What do you need me to do?” He asked, voice soft on the other end. Relief spread through you, and you stopped to look at the window outside your apartment, “A train ticket.”

You could sublease your apartment. You could figure the rest out from the comfort of your real home. You could go back to Aera’s, and get your life in order. You’d find a way to love Felix back. After all, he was the only one who wanted you the way you needed to be wanted. Maybe you were destined for that kind of life after all, where everything stays the same everyday. But that’s good, it was safe. The boy you loved had made you think that you belonged in the city, but he couldn't be more wrong.

That’s what you told yourself, at least, ripping your paintings off the wall. In your short-lived time here, you’d made and put them up to feel less lonely. There’d be no room to carry them back, so you bunched them up, carrying them to the garbage disposal in your apartment. As you shoved them in the disposal, you felt nothing. The hallway was warmer than your apartment and it made you feel a tad better.

Your phone buzzed again, and Felix had sent you something. The train ticket he’d bought for you. It was for tomorrow morning. You knew that you could always trust Felix, with anything. He would always be there for you, if nothing else. Perhaps you'd taken your friendship with him for granted this whole time.

“Need some help?” Jeongin asked. He was coming up the stairs, probably after having heard your struggle with the garbage. You shot him a smile, nodding. He came over, helping you, “Are you redecorating?”

“You could say that…”

“Wait. Are these your paintings?” He realised, stopping halfway.

“Can you help me with something?” You looked at him. He looked confused, and he was frowning, “Um. Sure. What do you need help with?”

“My suitcases…I don’t think the elevator is working”

“Are you going somewhere?” He tilt his head, further confusion scrunching his face. In another life, you and Jeongin could have been really good friends. 

“I’m just going home for a while” You mumbled, shutting the garbage door. For a while would be forever. He didn’t need to know that. It’s not like he would be sad, or miss your presence. 

“Oh. Okay. Of course, I’ll be there in a bit”

Back in your apartment, your phone buzzed again. It was your groupchat with Jeonghan and Minnie. You skimmed through the messages, feeling regretful.

yn are you sick? what’s going on? professor jieong told us you weren’t eligible for the prize anymore

You turned your phone off, staring outside the little kitchen window. The traffic wasn’t as loud as usual. It was a quiet night.

You hugged yourself, trying to find a singular reason to stay. Why had you wanted this life for so long? It had given you nothing but heartbreak, yet a part of you was so sad about leaving tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes shut, a single tear escaping. Maybe you wanted a sign to stay, despite everything in you screaming to leave. When you opened you eyes, your reflection mirrored on the glass pane and then you saw it.

A snowflake drifting down. It twirled in place and your eyes followed its path before it settled on your ledge, quickly crumbling into nothingness.

And then more followed, a flurry of snow falling like stardust. It was beautiful, a cloud of white enveloping everything so quickly, covering the street below. 

Your first snow in the city. 

A bitter smile tugged at your lips. 

The doorbell rang.

Jeongin was already here to help you with the bags. 

So much for a sign.

You grabbed your duffel, and your suitcase, wheeling it out. The quicker you moved with things, the easier it would be. Reaching for the rusty brass doorknob, you pulled the door open.

“Can you take this one? I’ll bring the other” You mumbled, pushing your things out. He nodded, still seemingly confused but he asked no questions, “What time’s your train?”

“In a few hours” You glanced at your phone, “But if there’s going to be a snowstorm, I’d prefer being at the station early…”

He grinned, still so happy and you wish he could share his secrets of eternal happiness, “Smart move. If it was me, I’d probably miss my train. Can’t tell you how many times that’s happened”

You smiled at him, “I can’t afford that”

“I called a taxi cab for you” He said. You nodded, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Thank you, Jeongin”

You stepped back into your apartment. There wasn’t much you’d brought with you, so there wasn’t much you had to take back. You’d never grown fond of this apartment. It had always felt like an inbetween place, while you waited your life to be perfect. Waiting was doing no favours for you.

You shoved your sketchbook into your duffel, putting on your coat before closing the apartment door behind you, and your throat closed up as you realised what you were doing. This was so fucking stupid, and this was rash but what else could you even do? Maybe you could come back to the city in the future if you wanted, but right now it was a terrible decision. You would go back home and you would hug Felix, and maybe you would kiss him and the ache in your heart would be better. The thought of his arms around you, as someone who genuinely cared about you, already made you want to cry.

You unceremoniously dragged your bag across the landing, and the taxi must have arrived already because you heard a loud honk.

It was freezing in the otherwise heated hallway. Your breaths came out in soft mists.

The door downstairs must have been left open, sending cold winds and flurries of snowflakes up the apartment. 

Jeongin would never forget to do that…

As you approached the top step with your bags, you realised who’d left it open.

Draped in a beige trench coat, cheeks red from the cold, Hyunjin stood at the bottom of your staircase.

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table. 

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.” 

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true. 

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit. 

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—” 

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.” 

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that? 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger? 

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no. 

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education. 

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!” 

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?” 

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already. 

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders. 

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!” 

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead. 

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[shinsmarlboro]

Strums of Seduction.

Dedicated to my mutual on TikTok, she knows who she is <3

Tags: Kazutora is a flirt, you go viral lol, gender neutral reader, reader is whipped for Kazutora and honestly that's so real, celebrity au, alternate timeline.

Kazutora first saw you at one of his concerts, mesmerised as you danced to the practised strumming of his electric guitar. What set you apart was that you didn't have your cell phone out, choosing simply to bask in the moment of it all. It was something he appreciated, since nowadays people have become attached to their phones.

Your reaction to him smiling at you was something that caused him to laugh a little though it couldn't be heard over the loud voices of the crowd. As the intro for the next song rolled in, he pulled Atsushi, the lead singer, aside just before he sang their third song.

“Sorry to delay you all, how ‘bout we have one of our fans come on stage?” He smirked at the cheerful response from his fans. “Let's have ‘em dance with us.”

The drummer blushed as some of his fans loudly declared wanting to dance around him, one even holding up a sign that asked for his hand in marriage.

“Is that a good idea?” Atsushi asked, a sheepish grin plastered across his face.

“C'mon man…” Kazutora nudged his arm. “You don't wanna say no to them, do you? I get it, I see so many pretty faces in the crowd I’m starting to get shy now.”

He let out a satisfied hum as his words elicited lovestruck squeals from his fans, both male and female.

Sauntering towards the edge of the podium, eager eyes watched as he extended his hand towards you to take.

You felt yourself shiver like a leaf, mouth agape and eyes never leaving Kazutora’s flawless face. As silly as it sounded, his beauty drew you in like a moth to a flame, the voices around you minimised as though you both solely existed in that moment. Slowly, you placed your hand in his and he hoisted you onto the podium.

Your legs nearly gave out as you drank in the sight of the band - Souya was behind the drums, his vibrant cerulean curls just as lush as in the photos. The lead singer, Atsushi, in his captivating yet unconventional mohawk style and a smile on his face as he interacted with fans.

Then, your attention fixed on the main singer, who had his hand clasped in yours.

“You okay?” He asked. letting go of your hand and bringing you back to reality.

You simply nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself by squeaking out a response that sounded similar to a dying cat.

He laughed, noticing your tense posture and lightly patted your shoulder. “Relax, will ya?” He leaned closer, still leaving some space between you so you are not uncomfortable. He made sure to lower his microphone so his words could be heard by you only, to the disappointment of his inquisitive fans.

“You were dancing your ass off moments ago, what happened to that fire, hm?”

You bit your inner cheek so hard it drew blood. You thought it had been your mind playing tricks on you, but he noticed you. Kazutora fucking Hanemiya had seen you dancing like an idiot.

Heat creeped up into your cheeks. He didn't seem to be weirded out by it, so that was a good thing.

“It's not the same..” You murmured.

He quirked a brow just as Atsushi hyped up the crowd. It was a furtive signal that indicated that the band would soon start playing.

Kazutora placed a hand on your shoulder. “Just let loose. Let the music guide you, as they say.” He followed it up by a wink.

You gave him a half nod, watching as he adjusted his electric guitar.

Right. Just don't make a fool out of yourself, again. You told yourself as you wiped your clammy palms on your denims.

When you got off stage, your legs felt like jello and eyes blown wide in fascination. You didn't even budge as one of your friends snaked her arm around you and the other screamed her lungs out because you had your once-in-a-billion moment with the sought-after celebrity.

After that concert, the band got even more popular and scoring concert tickets was like playing the lottery game. You'd observe with envy as fans interacted with the band members during fan signs and concerts, fortunately you were grateful you got to have a viral moment with Kazutora Hanemiya, even with the death threats sent to you from fans, anons and a couple of middle-aged women, you felt content.

As time passed, you soon came to realise that you might not attend another concert. With having to tackle work and school, it was damn near impossible to find the time to go out to have fun, talkless of concerts.

At 9 PM on a Friday night, you finished mopping the floors of the café eager to close up the shop and head on home basking in the momentary freedom the weekend gave you before heading on back to work on Sunday.

The bell rang, indicating that a customer was here. You let out an audible grumble and turned around with the fakest customer-service grin you could muster up for the umpteenth time, except you were at your breaking point.

The customer took off his hoodie and you were blessed with the opportunity to stare into his beautiful gold eyes and that tiger tattoo you spotted despite his neck being concealed for the most part.

“I'm sorry, are you about to close for the night?” The familiar timbre in his smooth voice sounded nice in your ears. Still, you were irritated, whether there happened to be a hottie or not.

“Yeah, it's a shame,” You replied, with feign disappointment.

A nervous chuckle fell from his lips as he rubbed his nape. “I figured.” He fished out his phone to check the time. “I mean, it's pretty late already. The moment he took out his phone, your eyes got fixated on the Swastika symbol against his clear phone case, not only that but his onyx fingernails under the lighting.

Could it be or were you going crazy from lack of adequate sleep?

He could feel you staring at him, so he met your gaze and a flash of recognition dawned on his face. “Wait… it's you.”

You frowned. What the hell? “You know me?”

He nodded, a broad grin spreading on his face. “Hell yeah I do!” He laughed softly. “Dancing-machine?”

Your eyes widened as he uttered the name of the hashtag under your viral video. Heat instantly flooded your cheeks as you cleared your throat.

“Do you remember me? Don't tell me you have forgotten my face already,” He teased, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“How could I forget?” You fiddled with your mop, laughing sheepishly. “I should be asking you that question, I mean what.”

“I have a pretty solid memory.” He rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment. “L/N wasn't it?”

Your heart fluttered. You knew that he was great at memory games as proven in one of the moments he had to memorise cards on a variety show, but it made you feel touched.

“Wow…” Another laugh fell from your lips. “It's been a while. How the hell did you not forget?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “I never forget my fans. Especially the pretty ones.”

You stiffened, unsure of how to respond or react. “Oh um…that's thoughtful of you?”

You could sense the awkward tension threatening to consume the atmosphere and so you quickly changed the subject.

“Uh, how about you take a seat?” You offered, taking down the chairs on the freshly waxed floors.

“What?” He looked confused.

“You wanted to order something, right?”

“Oh no I couldn't…” He watched you, feeling abashed as he observed you pull out a chair for him.

“I insist, now sit down and let me take your order,” You commanded.

He gave you a rare nervous smile. “You really don't have to.”

“Yes I do. I mean, no one's here and you can eat without fangirls flocking to you for your autograph.”

“You're still here though.”

You clicked your tongue playfully. “I am a grown ass, I don't have time to be squealing over celebrities,” You spoke coolly and walked away, muttering about getting the menu for him, even though internally you were freaking the fuck out. What were the odds of seeing your favourite celebrity at your workplace?

You returned, placing it before him on the table. “Take your time.”

You couldn't help but sneak glances as he skimmed through the options. It was as though his face had this magnetic energy that pulled your eyes in, or maybe he was just too handsome for your weak heart.

He pressed his lips together, hesitating for a moment. “Uh… If it ain’t much of a hassle, how about soufflé pancakes?”

You relaxed a little when he chose the less tedious option. “Of course. Want anything to drink?”

“Just water.” He smiled at you.

His eyes subtly roamed your form as you took the menu from him and made your way to the kitchen.

As you stirred the batter, you couldn't help but feel his eyes on you. You did a taste test, finding an opportunity to look at him from the peripheral of your vision; He leaned back to get a better view of you from the kitchen.

You weren't exactly looking your best, after an eight-hour shift you were bound to look unkempt. You thought to yourself about what it was that could be interesting enough about your appearance to have him stare at you.

He's just hungry. Focus on the damn pancake, broke ass bitch. You berated yourself in your head as you poured the gooey mix in the pan and set to frying.

Minutes later, you had a tray of soufflé pancakes with a drizzle of whipped cream and maple syrup. Sliced strawberries surrounded the plate rather neatly to Kazutora's amusement.

“Strawberries weren't on the menu.” He raised a questioning.

“I can get rid of them if you'd like,” You suggested.

He shook his head. “No way. I love strawberries. It was just an observation.”

You let out a hum, feeling your muscles ache as you placed his order before him and made to go back to the kitchen.

“Hey uh on second thought, how about I just take this home instead?”

You turned to look at him. There wasn't any sign of dissatisfaction on his charming face but it unnerved you the more, knowing how two-faced celebrities could be.

You cleared your throat and muttered a ‘Sure’, approaching his table to take his plate to get it ready for takeaway. You silently wondered why he chose to take it home; you didn't mind staying behind just for him even as late as the night was getting.

Handing the takeaway bag to him, he mumbled a ‘Thank you’ as he looked at his phone. He raised his head to meet your gaze. “You accept transfers too, right?”

You recited the café's account details while he typed it down with his nimble thumbs. He showed you proof that he made the transaction and you nodded slightly, a friendly smile spread across your face.

“Thank you for coming,” You said, moving to put up the chairs back on the table.

“Thank you for your time.” He shot back, letting out a brief chuckle.

Tension threatened to invade the room as it fell into silence. You were too exhausted to respond, but not saying anything would be seen as rude so you hummed to let him know that you acknowledged his words.

“Say, you think I can have your number?” He asked, as if he was in a hurry. “I have practice in a few so I wanna make it quick, in case I don't see you again.”

In that moment your heart dropped into your ass. You stared at him wide-eyed and expectant for him to declare his words as a joke. Instead he stared back at you, patiently smiling.

“I…”

“You know what, I'll just write it down.” He turned his back on you, dipping his hand into his tote bag to get out a journal and a pen. With a couple of hurried flips, he tore out a quarter of a page. He slid the cap of his pen between his teeth and scribbled his digits on it, while he did so you just stared like a fool, hands clasped in front of your apron.

He left it on the table, packing up his stuff in his bag and draped it over his shoulder whilst he held his order in his right grasp.

“Make sure you text me when you find the time!” He waved at you then turned around to pull up his hoodie as he walked off into the night.

Your hand trembled as you held the piece of paper, gawking at the series of numbers. A wave of excitement washed over you followed by an inhumane scream, the exhaustion suddenly leaving your entire body as you replayed what just happened in your head.

___________________________________________

You and Kazutora’s friendship had begun to grow despite both of your hectic schedules and occasionally having to adapt to the different time zones whenever he went on tour. The more you talked to him, the more you realised that he was just like any other person but more talented.

You had managed to keep it a secret to your friends about befriending the popular lead guitarist. After all it had nothing to do with them.

“They can be a handful at times.” You sighed, chopping up vegetables unevenly that struck mild concern from the man on the phone. You had gotten into a squabble with your two friends recently and you couldn't be bothered to deal with their shit when you had so much on your plate.

“Hey,  you must have been acting a certain way for them to tease you like that.”

You halted your actions, looking at him with an accusatory gaze. “Are you taking their side?”

“No, no,” Kazutora said, sensing your growing irritation. You had been like this for a couple of days: quick to annoy, harder to reason with.

“It's just, you've been cranky lately,” He pointed out tentatively.

“I'm just tired,” You defended.

“You said that last time.” He adjusted his phone position, bringing the device closer to his face.

“I'm telling the truth.” You chopped the veggies with more aggression than intended.

“I didn't say you were lying.” He exasperated.

You were over it. As dashing as he was, keeping this back and forth going would end in you lashing out on him. And so, you reached out about to hang up.

“So…” He drawled awkwardly “...I hope this isn't shitty timing but I was wondering if you could meet up with me one of these days,” He suggested, rubbing his nape. “I really need your opinion on something.”

You gave him a look, your index finger grazing lightly against the re d telephone icon. “This isn't some sort of trap right?”

“What?” He choked out.

“Forget it.” You put the knife down and let out a long sigh, hands gripping the sides of the kitchen counter. You needed a break, a break from all the crap going on in your life.

“I’ll look into my schedule and see if I can fit you in.” You mustered up the strength to faintly smile at him on your screen. “I have to go now.”

“Okay but don't forget. It's really important.” He emphasized just as you hung up.

Days later, you texted him informing him that you would be free on a weekend, and he arranged for a taxi to come pick you up despite your complaints.

He stood outside in all his glory beside a motorcycle you assumed was his, dressed in a loose tee and black cargo pants. He noticed you almost immediately and jogged up to meet you.

He took off his mask to greet you with an attractive smile. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.” He gave you a side hug which you leaned into.

As he led you into the building, you spotted the electric guitar reposed on the concrete floor and the balls of crumpled paper beside the culpable notebook sprawled open before his feet. Colourful graffiti spread across the unpainted walls, rays of sunlight acted as the only light source in the bleak surroundings except the slightly opened door on the verge of collapse.

“Sorry, it's a bit of a mess.” He laughed nervously, side stepping the empty boxes of ramen and coffee cups

“I was here all night.”

You assured him that it was fine as you sat down on the worn-out couch. Inviting you here meant he trusted you enough to see him like this, it made your heart flutter.

“My dormitory can be a real mess. Worse than this, trust me.” You took off your bag, placing it on a table as you sat on the low chair. “You said you were here all night? You mean you slept here?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I just worked on the finishing touches of the song before I send it to my producer.”

The news regarding the anonymous release date of their band’s 2nd album circulated rather quickly and now here you are, blessed with the opportunity to be a first listener. His first listener.

“Is this where you practise?” You asked, admiring the oddly cosiness of the hangout spot, undeterred by the fading graffiti and holes in the ceiling. “Your singing and songwriting?”

“Yeah, it used to be a spot where me and the guys would come to rehearse after school. That was years ago though, now it's more of a place I come to when I wanna clear my head,” He explained, his voice detached and slightly muffled because of the pick between his teeth.

You bit your bottom lip, watching closely as he pulled the strap of the electric guitar over his head so the instrument stayed poised against his stomach.

“I was working on the finishing touches of a song and I wanted you to be my first listener.” His hesitant gaze met yours. “Is that okay?”

“Well I, I can't say that I’m not flattered that your reached out to me,” You stated. “Though I can't help but think that you're taking advantage of the fact that I'm a fan of you guys, your biggest fan even but you see I’m not too fond of spoilers, Kazu.”

“I mean… if you told me that I would have understand.” He scratched his nape, feeling flustered that you seemed unenthused to hear his new song. “I just need your opinion on it that's all.”

“I'm just kidding. I didn't know a man like you still had it in you to blush.” You laughed softly. “You're singing the entire song?”

He shook his head. “Just my part and the bridge. Maybe a bit of the chorus.”

“Oh, so half of the song?” You asked in a deadpan tone. The group's line distribution barely changed. As the main vocalist, Kazutora got most of the lines. After his part, which included the bridge (or sometimes Atsushi Sendo would sing it instead) most of the time, the song was basically over.

“Basically.” He chuckled, appreciating your subtle humour.

“Alright.” You readjusted your position on the chair. “The floor's yours.”

You leaned forward just a bit with a growing smile on your face as he began to sing the intro, heartfelt Japanese rhymes flowing smoothly out of his lips. His fingers danced effortlessly across the strings, coaxing out a catchiness which you know would be stuck in your head for days.

His eyes locked on you, softening slightly. You had seen him pour his heart out with some of the few ballads the group had written. He never failed to move the hearts of many fans with the raw emotions he conveyed in his tone, like he related to the songs. You knew he did, back then and now.

You were certain you looked like a mesmerised idiot but you didn't care. You brought your legs to your chest, hugging them, remaining transfixed on his angelic vocals. If this was the demo, she couldn't imagine how heavenly the master recording would be like

As he neared the end of the song he drew closer to you, his gaze piercing. It made you squirm a little and fight back the blush threatening to spread across your face. It appeared like the rest of the world acted as a backdrop, gradually fading away as both of you are enveloped in your private symphony.

“So what do you think?” His question came out as a heavy breath. His cologne enveloped your senses. You always felt like this, nauseated. Whenever he’d catch you staring at him from time to time. It got worse when he'd smile at you, his eyes crinkled upwards. The butterflies in the pit of a stomach would trill intensely as though your body was trying to warn you.

“I mean I think it's good but music is…music is subjective you know I can't speak for-”

Before you finished your sentence, his lips connected with yours. Your hands moved to his nape as you slowly melted in the kiss. Your reciprocation gave him the confidence to wander down to your waist, sending pleasurable jolts just from an action as simple as that.

You gasped into his mouth when he pinned you down on the floor scattered with newspapers, but had no intention of pulling away.

‘Honestly,” He began, his breathing heavy on your lips. “I just wanted to have an excuse to bring you here. The song's been ready for release since last week.”

“Sneaky bastard,” You teased.

“You were still the first to listen to it.” Kazutora's hand trailed up your waistline, squishing where necessary earning a surprised squeal from him.

“Jesus…” You mumbled, pretending to get upset with him but ultimately laughed softly.

“So, what'd you think?” He asked. “I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to hear your thoughts about it.”

“It was romantic. A bit explicit but…” Your words made him laugh awkwardly.

“Uh yeah… even though it's my song I had Makoto write some lyrics for me.”

Your eyes grew wide and you sat up. “Makoto from…”

“Makoto from M.M? “

That explained a lot. A smug grin formed on your face in a way that had the celebrity feeling uneasy.

“I wouldn't think that you of all people won't be able to write explicit lyrics.” You teased.

“It's not like I can't write them. I don't want to show that side of me to fans yet.”

“Why? You should go for it.” To your amusement he seemed abashed about the idea, you could have sworn his ears got redder in colour.

“You don't have to jump into it immediately,” You quickly assured him. “It's just a suggestion.”

He let out a noncommittal hum, rubbing his nape as he got off you, exposing a different side to him. You watched him for a moment with a fond expression on your face before lying down on your back. Taking a breather like this, it was rare. Your muscles ached with fatigue but the thought of falling asleep was damn near impossible.

Still. You closed your eyes, letting your body relax in his presence and the growing silence. The papers rustled beneath you and Kazutora's warm breath fanned on your exposed skin.

His eyes were on you. You didn't have to open them to notice. It didn't bother you, you recalled he mentioned something about your face being easy on the eyes. It made you uncomfortable.

You knew he would stop it if you told him about the feeling he elicited from you, strangely you brushed it off. In his eyes were nothing but compassion - the same compassion he harboured for his loved ones and fans. Perhaps it was the intimacy behind them that made you inept.

“Hey, Y/N?” His boyish voice relaxed your muscles further.

“Hm?” You hummed in response.

“Wanna go on a date with me?”

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated !

[wttcsms]

a very old atsumu draft from 2021 that im afraid won't make it out the gdocs, but i reread it and realized how silly and light it was & maybe you guys will too!!!!

atsumu miya’s guide to escaping from the friend zone, atsumu miya x f!reader

third year au, enemies to lovers, shoujo manga vibes* features romcom elements, knowing each other since childhood, he falls first AND he falls the absolute hardest, getting together, miscommunication as a means to be comedic not for poorly manufactured drama/angst, lighthearted with a happy ending, no angst 1k written, est. ~10k when completed 

STEP ONE: ACTUALLY GET TO THE FRIEND ZONE FIRST

You’re in love with Atsumu Miya — you just don’t know it yet. 

At least, that’s what Atsumu claims as he speaks with his mouth full, bits of rice flying out of his mouth, leaving everyone in his immediate vicinity disgusted. 

“She doesn’t even know you exist, idiot.” Osamu doesn’t look amused as he pulls his bento box closer to himself, trying to avoid the hailstorm that is Atsumu’s half chewed grains of rice. 

“She does!” He’s awfully indignant when he replies, looking like he’s about to make a move to slap his brother but thinks better of it. As captain of the Inarizaki Boys’ Volleyball team, he has to learn to behave lest he lose the title altogether. 

“Wanting you dead isn’t the same thing as loving you,” Rintarou is quick to chime in, and the first and second years on the team snicker.

“It’s a work in progress.” Atsumu snaps, failing to mention that you loving him has been a ‘work in progress’ for the past decade and counting. 

(Not like he’s, you know, obsessively keeping track. Definitely not.) 

The two of you have been attending the same school since your elementary days. On the first day of class, your teacher made everyone hold hands with the person next to them, and a five year old Atsumu just so happened to be the person seated next to a five year old you. 

“This person is going to be your buddy for the rest of the school year!” Your teacher exclaimed, clapping her hands together and smiling too cheerfully for so early in the morning. 

Then, someone had exclaimed that boys had cooties, and every girl buddied with a boy immediately took back their hand, either on the brink of tears and dramatically turning up their nose in disgust. 

Atsumu likes to claim that this is where things went wrong (never minding the fact that you had been the only girl not to drop a boy’s hand), but what really started your dislike for him (that has since spiraled into his closest friends thinking you want their captain dead) happened in middle school. 

As fate would have it, you were seated in front of Atsumu for math. He had (still does) a bad habit of chewing gum as loudly and obnoxiously as possible (from your perspective, anyway; truthfully, Atsumu just lacks self-awareness). He made it hard to concentrate during lectures and tests, and midway through the year, you complained to your teacher. 

(“Why do you not want to be seated close to Mr. Miya, hmm?” Your teacher smiled at you, his tone light and teasing. “Is it because of a crush?” 

“Gross! No! I do not have a crush on Miya!” Your eyes were wide, and you were shaking your head. “He just gets on my nerves. He’s always stealing my pencils and smacking on gum and hiding my textbook-“ 

“You know, Miss [Surname], middle school boys are mean to girls they like. I’m afraid that my seating charts are always permanent, but even if they weren’t, I think I would make Mr. Miya very upset if I moved you.” 

“Who cares about that? He’s so annoying. Let him bother someone else!” 

“Ah, [Surname], class is only in session for a few more months. If it gets worse, then we’ll see to adjusting the seating arrangements. For now, let’s get you back to your desk and focused on these fractions.” Your math teacher doesn’t bother hiding a smile as he jokes with you. “You better be careful; he might yank your hair and think it’s a proper declaration of love.” 

Your math teacher never tells you that Atsumu spent two weeks of summer break cleaning this classroom to get seated next to you.) 

The complaining didn’t work, and you were still stuck in the same seat in front of Atsumu. Then, one day, while he was ignoring the teacher’s lecture and giving his attention to something more worthwhile (such as the back of your head), Atsumu noticed a spider crawling from your back and aiming upwards, towards your hair. He watched in morbid fascination as the spider made its way into your strands of hair, and he reacted quickly, not quite thinking things through. 

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled, forcing you to tilt back with a yelp, which then caused the entire class to turn and stare at the two of you. 

The spider was nowhere to be found, at least, but your teacher had to stop his lesson, shaking his head while he walked to the classroom phone. 

“Honestly, Mr. Miya, what goes on in your head?” The teacher sounded like he was holding back laughter as he dialed the principal’s office. 

Meanwhile, you straightened yourself out and turned to glare at Atsumu, who could only give you a sheepish grin in return. 

“Sorry,” he told you, not sounding the least bit sorry. “Ya should be thankin’ me—“ 

“Thanking you?” You practically yelled it out. “I should be beating you. What is your problem with me, Miya?” 

And that was the moment when Atsumu Miya realized that getting you to fall in love with him might be a bit of a struggle. 

But that was then, and this is how. Now, you’re both in your third year of high school. Now, Atsumu is the captain of a team that’s an absolute powerhouse. Now, Atsumu is a box blond and despite his harsh attitude, girls are still vying for his attention. 

He figures it’s only a matter of time before you come to your senses and join them. 

You never do, though, and now he’s stuck rethinking his master plan. His friends are no help whatsoever, and the school year is going to fly by if he’s not careful. He knows you’ve been accepted to Tokyo U, and he knows that he’s probably not heading to college — not when professional scouts are watching his games and have the power to sign him right after graduation. He’ll never have a chance to be this close to you ever again, and he has to act now. 

“Work in progress, my ass.” Rin snorts. “You’ll be lucky to even be her friend at this point.” 

Now, Atsumu doesn’t like to consider other people as geniuses, but he’ll settle for considering Rintarou his muse. All this time, Atsumu’s been trying to get you to love him, completely disregarding the fact that you have to like someone before that can happen. 

And people like their friends. For the most part. 

“Ya know what, Rin? You might actually have a point.” 

“There was no point. I was making fun of you. Whatever you’re thinking about doing, here’s actual advice: don’t.” No one on the team is particularly surprised when Atsumu doesn’t take that advice.

[morningstargirl666]

hi! do you have any long canon klaroline fic recommendations?

i’m missing klaroline and actual canon isn’t gonna cut it

I'm going to assume by long fics you mean multichaps? I've always found this fandom seems to be lacking in them, and I'm not talking about the 5-10 chapter fics --- I mean the long ass, epic-length fics that transport you to another dimension and rob you of nine hours of your life in a back-alley because you couldn't close the ao3 page at 1am. Other fandoms seem to have dozens of them but klaroline? Not so much. Writers here seem to prefer the 50k one-shots or playing with a different AU altogether, which is fantastic of course, but sometimes you crave something different, you know? Something you can lose youself in. It's what made me write TBBW, initially. However, that doesn't mean the fandom doesn't have some canon-divergent gems.

Epic-Length Wonders:

Red Queen by KS_Caster / @ks-caster

3-Part Series, Over 200k+ words. Season 4 Canon-Divergent. The last part is a WIP. I absolutely adored this fic when I first read it and I still adore it now. Klaus puts Caroline first and continues to put her first during the search for Silas' cure and it is fucking amazing. The werewolf/hybrid world building in the second fic inspired me to write more fics like it. It's not had as much attention since it was moved to AO3, but trust me, this fic is a hidden gem.

Wicked Schemes by willowaus / @willowaus

30 Chapters, 260k+ words. Season 1 TO Canon-Divergent. Ignores the baby plot. Caroline inherits the powers of a harbringer and the way its weaved into the fic so flawlessly makes you question if it wasn't just canon to begin with. Honestly epic world building. Wolf!Klaus also makes an appearance! A true klaroline classic.

make them bow. by for_darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness

35 Chapters, 220k+ words. Season 1 Canon-Divergent. Klaus is dropped into season one while Caroline is still human. Klefan bromance. Damon retribution. Forbes family dynamics. Klaus covered in blood. Council Members and Founding Family warfare. There's a reason this is the most commented-on fic in the entire fandom even though it's barely been out a year.

Binge-In-One-Sitting Multichaps:

Til I Tasted You by KiryTheStitchWitch / @kirythestitchwitch

4 Chapters, 22k. Canon Divergent/Soulmate AU. Will ruin you with single most devastating declaration of love in existence, forewarning you now.

throw roses into the abyss by marxandangels / @marxandangels

7 Chapters, 99k+. WIP. Technically Season 6 Canon-Divergent (after Liz dies) but ignores canon for the most part, especially TO wise. Explores the concept of humanity-less vampires so well, with a dash of world building on the side. Klaus and Caroline's relationship is also explored with such nuance --- like these two aren't just attracted to each other but entwined by their very souls, kind of nuanced. Oh, and the bloodsharing scene drawn by here by @stardust414 lives rent-free in my mind.

Someone's First Choice by unpublishednovelist

10 Chapters, 29k+. Post-Canon. This one's a WIP but I'm keeping my eye on it because it's good. Like hella good. Caroline decides to say fuck it and goes with some college friends to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, accomadation covered by our favourite Original hybrid. She breaks up with Tyler over voicemail. Queen shit.

All I Need by emeraldvixen

14 Chapters, 60k, E rated. Canon-Divergent/Wolf Mate AU. In the mood for some hot and steamy smut? Emeraldvixen's got you covered.

the fate makes for a lousy poet by for_darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness

7 Chapters, 50k+. Season 3 Canon-Divergent/Soulmate AU. The Originals in pajamas. Need I say more?

Who put Bella down the Wynch Elm? by for_darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness

7 Chapters, 60k+. Post-Canon. A murder mystery whodunnit with original side characters and Caroline in all her bad ass glory, after she's left Mystic Falls and its hellmouth-worthy shenanigans. Just - for a minute - imagine canon expanded on the tvd universe and revisted the fact the Originals are little more than nightmarish stories in the supernatural world, or that Stefan is the most infamous mass murderer on the east coast and maybe you'll understand how amazing this fic is.

Important to note these were all specifically Canon-Divergent multichaps. There's plenty more gems out there, just for different AUs and lengths. I also only looked at my ao3 bookmarks for this, so like, I'm probably forgetting several.

[wayfayrr]

Ok, so someone came up with this cute headcannon lol

https://www.tumblr.com/crazylittlejester/751872276831649792/ok-so-i-saw-your-headcannon-about-the-chain-and

And I thought, alright, so he just learned all these languages. Obviously English isn’t one of them, so does he even understand us? I be yelling at him for falling off a cliff, but does he understand?? Or is it like a dog where they don’t know r language but by tone of voice I’m obviously not happy w him. Or also maybe after time he picks up on certain words. Either way still reminds me of a dog lol.

So when I mentioned if I ever take a phone call in front of him, how will he react? Not to what I’m doing but my speaking? Will he also not understand that and just be absolutely confused, or if he understands will he be “on my side” in the conversation even tho he couldn’t hear the other side? Like him I’m talking w my best friend and we’re talking about something stupid but hilarious, would he think it’s funny too? Or if I’m annoyed at the person on the phone and I’m in the mood of “I really don’t wanna talk to u, can u shut up??” Would he be glaring and thinking “if I could get rid of this person for u I would.”?😂

🐰

(it's very funny seeing people have wild as a British accent because a friend once told me that my voice was their hc for wild and I in fact am British and get told I have a 'posh' voice lmfao)

I think that they understand english because hylian isn't the language the games are in yk? they're alive game characters so even if the lore declares that they speak other languages what's actually used for the players is what's seen - English and the other programmed languages are what's used

this is more prominent with botw/totk because there are actually voicelines in the game but for the others too our spoken language is what appears in the text boxes <3

if hyrule was a separate entity and not this shallow empty dead code void in the self aware au I think the multiple language thing would happen - but hyrule doesn't technically exist in the ones where the links get out of the game (different case where reader goes to hyrule ofc but even then hyrule isn't real real, think that lamp looks weird unreal yk?)

only link (and any other sentient characters) are real in this scenario, the second the console is off it's like they're thrown into the void (like pomni at the end of the pilot sdfsv)

I think he'd be insanely curious about what's being said on the other side tbh, he's on your side if there's an argument or anything emotional but other than that he really just wants to know how it works more than anything - it's pure curiosity on his end

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Angel Neil?

WIP Wednesday (8/14) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 221)

“Good.” Neil dips his finger in the water again, swirling it around and around and around. Finally, he looks back up and his expression is serious. He swallows. “Please don’t joke about killing yourself.”

Please. 

Please. 

Please!

A slight shudder runs through Andrew, but he does his best to ignore it. Neil doesn’t know. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t know. It’s Andrew’s turn to swallow thickly, batting the remnants of his dream over the side of the building.

“Worried I’ll follow through one day?”

“Yes.” Neil says before Andrew’s through with the sentence. “And it scares me.” Neil dries his finger on his hoodie and Andrew gives him a look.

“It’s just a joke.” 

“It’s not.”

Andrew lets out a sigh. “Oh come on, Neil. I know you’ve got a sense of humor in there somewhere. Let’s find it, shall we?”

“I haven’t lost it. Dying isn't funny. I’m dead, Andrew! I’m dead and to hear you say things like that… it hurts worse than the knife did.”

Andrew didn’t know Neil’s knife hurt him. He wonders if it’s hot to the touch or—

“You’re my human,” Neil declares, sounding possessive in a way that raises Andrew’s hackles and warms his cheeks. “I’m in charge of you. I exist to keep you safe and I’ll do until my second last breath. But my power has limits. I can catch you if you fall, I can heal you when you’re hurt. And I will. I want to. But I can’t pump your stomach and I can’t bring you back from the other side. So, don’t joke like that anymore. Death isn’t funny and I don’t like imagining a world without you in it.”

By the end of Neil’s little speech, Andrew feels hot from his stomach to his ears. He lets Neil’s words sink into his skin, commits them all to memory. Because Neil is real and Andrew is alright and Neil doesn’t like imagining a world without him in it. 

[kingofbodyrolls]

Learn to Love Again (m) | myg | teaser

💜 It has been posted! Read it here. 💜 Summary: People always leave. They become beautiful stars shining bright in the night sky. When life hands you lemons, you’ve been told to make lemonade, but that is hard when your soul and heart is breaking apart. When you rescue a tiny cat and meet a handsome stranger in the cafe, you finally feel yourself healing – but when they too leave, how are you going to learn to love again?

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, mainly called pet names so no ‘Y/N’).

AU + genres: Hybrid!au (shapeshifter!yoongi), strangers to lovers, slice of life, heavy angst, a lot of sadness (I’m sorry!), dark vibes, smut and fluff and some humor. 

Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.

Word count (for the teaser): 480 words. I’m still writing the fic and it’s currently at 12k and I’m almost done!

Warnings (general) + triggers: Heavy angst, extreme heavy sadness and grief, death of minor characters, mention of previous character death (parents), mentions of su*cide, mention of m*rder, su*cidal thoughts.

Warnings (explicit): Explicit sex (I haven’t written the smut yet, so I don’t know what it entails yet 🤣). 

Authors note: I know it sounds hella sad (and it is), but it is also very sweet and heartwarming too 💜 I wanted to venture into the darker stuff again, and embrace all the feelings and sadness that I felt a few weeks ago (I’m fine, well I’m getting through it at least). 

If you are triggered by any of the warnings, I suggest that you skip this. It’s not that explicit though (except the smut lol) but the heavy subjects are still there and they feature in it a lot.

Also, the quote “people always leave” features a lot in this and I only now realize why I find it so familiar – it’s a famous quote from Peyton Sawyer from One Tree Hill.

*fun fact: I actually took the photo of the night sky myself (back in 2013 lol) and used in the breakline for this!

Taglist: If you wish to be notified and added to the taglist, just drop a comment here on this teaser, an ask or a message and I’ll add you. I kindly ask that you have your age visible on your blog, as this contains mature and dark themes, you must be over 18+ 🙂

“Yuna…,” you cry, the anguish in your voice echoing the profound pain that seems to squeeze the very life out of your heart. “Why does everyone leave?” The question hangs in the air, more rhetorical than expectant, as if you're not seeking an answer from Yuna but grappling with the cruel patterns of departure that life has woven into the fabric of your existence. Each departure, like a thread pulled from the tapestry of your world, leaves an unraveled piece that never quite knits itself back together.

“I–, I don’t know,” she stammers through her tears, the weight of the unknown echoing in her voice, mirroring the uncertainty that now shrouds both of your lives.

“Promise we’ll be there for each other,” you declare, the weight of the words hanging in the air. It's a poignant plea, an acknowledgment of life's unpredictable twists. You understand that you can't ask for an eternity, but in this moment, you're determined to hold onto each other as tightly as time allows.

“Count on it,” she vows, her response flowing effortlessly, a testament to the unspoken bond between you two.

Despite the tightening in your throat, a glimmer of happiness sparks within you at the assurance she just gave.

Why must life be so fucking cruel, robbing you of everyone you hold dear?

An overwhelming urge to reconnect with your sister washes over you, a deep yearning fueled by the ache of prolonged silence between you.

“I want to call my sister,” you manage to say through your sobs, a desperate plea lacing your words. “Will you be alright, Yuna?” you ask, your concern breaking through the waves of grief that surround you both.

“Yeah. I mean, I'm fucking sad, but go ahead and call her. Can I come to your place tomorrow?” Yuna's voice carries a subtle plea, a shared understanding that neither of you wants to be alone in the midst of sorrow.

“Yeah, I'd love that,” you respond, your voice carrying the weight of grief and the faint glimmer of gratitude for the companionship that awaits tomorrow. As you attempt to dry your tears with a throw blanket on the couch, the room feels emptier than ever, and the ache in your heart persists.

“See you tomorrow,” she says before the call ends. The hollowness in the room deepens, and you draw in a shaky breath, your gaze fixed on your phone. The background image captures a moment frozen in time, featuring you, Nari, and Yuna. God, the ache of missing her intensifies, and you can't shake the heaviness in your chest.

You tighten your grip on the phone, each tear that escapes your eyes a silent testament to the pain in your heart. Determination wells up as you locate your sister's number, fingers tracing the familiar digits, ready to bridge the gap that time and distance have carved between you.

[natalievoncatte]

This ficlet is a scene from a high school AU. A high school AU that doesn’t exist yet because I haven’t written it and between the pirate AU and another I’m working on, it’ll be a while before I get to it.

It’s still living in my head and it needs to be free.

Tonight. She was going to tell Lena tonight. She had to, because if she kept this secret another day, another hour, another minute, she would die. There was never going to be another night so perfect as this one. The sky was clear over their heads and ablaze with stars, the moon hiding her face in shadow.

Kara wished Lena could see it the way she saw it, see the waves of particles scattering across the upper atmosphere and the glory of the stars.

“I wish I could share it with you.”

Lena made a soft sound. She lay back against Kara, sitting in the sand between Kara’s legs. They were a good mile up the beach, far from where anyone would find them, warmed by the fire Kara had started.

“Share what?” said Lena.

“The sky. I wish I could give you the sky.”

Lena shifted where she sat, turning in Kara’s lap to lean her head on Kara’s shoulder and look up at her. Lena was so beautiful that there were no words in English that could express what Kara felt when she looked at her. Green eyes flickered in glow from the fire, their boundless depths alive with yet more light than the endless tide of stars above their heads.

Sitting there in Kara’s sweatshirt, her hands tucked inside the sleeves for warmth, she was everything. Kara gently, experimentally, brought a hand up to draw a stray lock of curly dark hair away from Lena’s face. It was crossing the line, but they’d crossed the line so many times during these last weeks of summer, the line itself had been scratched to nothing.

Lena still stared directly into Karan’s eyes, emerald vistas more spectacular than any vista on any world she’d traveled. Kara adored her, everything about her, from the soft dimples that formed when she laughed to the way she could solve calculus problems in her head.

She wondered if Lena would have been matched to her on Krypton. She didn’t think she cared what a machine would think.

“Kara?” Lena whispered, tilting her chin up, inviting. Anticipating.

It was the most natural thing in the world for the hand that tamed the stray locks to now take Lena’s chin in the softest grip, for the other hand that rested on her thigh to slide up and take a possessive hold on her hip. It was like gravity drawing time together as Lena’s soft lips met hers.

The kiss was soft, halting, as much a question as an answer, and yet in that soft brushing of lips upon lips, a simple close-mouthed peck on the lips, a declaration was made. Lena almost went limp as she relaxed, safe for the hand that reached up to gently gather Kara’s neck and offer a silent affirmation for her to continue.

The fire was low by the time Kara knew they had to go. They walked up the beach together towards where Lena had parked them.

“What are we going to do?” Lena asked.

It was as much that question that brought them back to the real world, as it was the asphalt of the roadside pull-off. The question had been hanging over them like a deadly weight for weeks. Lena was going to MIT. Kara was going to NCU. There would be three thousand miles between them, and worse than that, no more sneaking around Midvale, free Lena’s parents watching them.

“Anything,” Kara said. “I won’t give up on us, ever.”

Lena said nothing, looking a little green now as she took the wheel of her Mercedes, a gift from her father before he died.

Kara sat beside her and kept the silence, but couldn’t take her eyes from Lena.

So, she almost didn’t see it coming.

High beams flicked on behind them, Lena crying out from the blinding flash in her rear view mirror. There was a sickening crunch as the car slammed into Lena’s bumper, and the driver was twisting the wheel.

“He’s trying to run us off the road,” Kara said, too calm.

“Hold on.”

Lena was a skilled driver, as capable as she was in everything she did. It didn’t matter. They were driving along a cliff overlooking the beach, a good fifty foot drop to the sand below.

There was no time. The car rammed them again, and Lena screamed, her cries turning to pure terror as the car turned against her will at the jarring impact. It spun, the world flailing crazily around them, and then came the inevitable lurch as the Mercedes careened over the shoulder and began to roll.

Kara threw herself across the gap between them, pulling Lena into a fetal position, shielding her with her own back. The car slammed onto its roof and Kara grunted as the struts gave way and sheet metal pancaked against her. Lena was screaming, clutching Kara with such a painful desperation.

The car rolled and rolled, crushing in around them. Finally, it stopped, settling on its roof, against a dune. Lena gasped, drawing in a shocked breath.

“What… how…”

“Hush,” Kara murmured. “I have you.”

Lena looked into Kara’s eyes.

Kara… flexed. She planted her feet on the roof and pushed, digging her back into the console. Lena clutched her tighter as the wreckage shifted, the entire chassis of the car rising as Kara stood, finally releasing her arms from Lena’s body. She put her palms against the wreckage and braced her back and pushed.

With a shriek of protesting metal, the entire car lifted over her head. Kara rose to her full height, two tons of steel and plastic resting on her palms as she easily raised it above her head.

She threw it, heaving it away. It crash landed in the sand a dozen yards away, carving a crater in the earth as it landed.

“There they are!” a voice called. “What the hell?”

Kara knew that voice. Otis Graves. One of Lex Luthor’s thugs.

“Who cares? Boss said to finish them. Shoot her.”

“Kara, get-“

Muzzle flashes lit the night. Kara stood her ground. The bullets struck her skin with soft, almost metallic pings. Kara reached down and plucked a bullet from the air, half a foot from Lena’s head. She screamed.

Lena’s terrified cry drove her over the edge. She crossed the gap between her and the two thugs in half a second, her eyes blazing with red sun fire. Kara slapped the gun out of Graves’s hand, curling it into a useless ball of twisted steel before it hit the ground.

Then, she grabbed him by the throat, hauled him up, and threw him. He rolled across the sand, crying out as a bone crunched in the landing. The man with him simply screamed Jesus Christ! and broke into a run.

“Kara? Kara!” Lena shouted, “oh my God, you’ve been shot! They shot you!”

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

Kara slipped her arms under Lena and lifted her easily from the sand.

“Put your arms around my neck, and hold on,” she said, taking Lena in a bridal carry. “I’m taking you back to my house. We need help. Eliza will know what to do.”

“How? Kara, we’re an hour away by car!”

“Do you trust me?”

Lena pressed tightly against her, shaking.

“I will always protect you,” Kara promised. “Always.”

“I trust you.”

Kara flew.

[thejujvtsupost]

Key: -> NSFW ✿ -> Requests ʚïɞ [updated 2/1/24]

Comment on this post if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Smitten

You caught Gojo’s attention, and no matter how hard he tried to stay away he just couldn’t. It was for your own safety but he figures out a way he can keep you even safer. Or - Gojo falls in love and he’s very protective of what he holds dear.

Series Notes: F!reader, soulmate au, all sorcerers have a soul bond, injuries, minor violence, some angst, mostly tooth rotting fluff. Best read in order!

Bringing You Home

The Best For Me

Tutoring ʚïɞ

The First Date

• Series List • Masterlist •

🏷️: @lacunaanonymoused

[joelalorian]

Tides of Desire - Chapter Nine: Close Quarters

*mood board by the lovely @/janaispunk. divider by the equally lovely @/saradika-graphics

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, stolen kisses, terms of endearment (sweetheart, etc.), outdoor/semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (m receiving). Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). No use of y/n, though reader is of British descent and has the nickname Brit (occasionally used).

Series masterlist

Chapter Nine: Close Quarters

“She agreed to meet for drinks,” Tommy declared as he entered the crew mess after the charter guests deboarded, his fit body vibrating with excitement. He stole half of the sandwich you just made with a cheeky grin before sliding in next to you at the table.

“Oy!” You slapped his hand too late; he already shoved it in his fat gob. “Bloody fucking menace. Did you annoy her to death, so she agreed just to get you to go away?”

He turned puppy dog eyes on you, so like his brother, and pouted. It must be a Miller family trait to have perfected that look. Sarah was just as good at it, too. “Rude.”

You laughed, bumping his shoulder playfully. He annoyed you like an older sibling, and you got over it just as quickly. “So, Maria is sticking around for a bit? Where are you going to take her?”

Tommy ran a hand through his long, dark hair. “Yeah, she’s staying in San Juan for another few days. I’m thinking Caribar at Caribe Hilton. I need to impress her.”

Your eyes widened. That was an upscale resort with expensive food and drinks. He was going all out for this woman. “Wow. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

His hands suddenly began fidgeting. “I haven’t taken dating seriously in a real long time. And she’s unlike anyone I have dated before. She’s way outta my league. I’m scared shitless,” Tommy admitted. Turning desperate eyes on you, he added, “Would you and Joel come along? Make it a double date kinda thing? I’ll be less nervous that way.”

You weren’t sure it was a great idea, but Tommy looked like a nervous little boy at the thought of going on an actual date without some type of backup. “Are you sure you want us there? It won’t cramp your style?”

“Please? You can leave whenever you want, just be there to help get the conversation flowing until I get comfortable. Or drunk. Whichever happens first, I guess.”

Shrugging, you tilted your chin toward the upper decks. “Let me run it by Joel, I guess. I’m not sure if he’s ready to put our relationship out there like that yet. And going on a double date with you and Maria would definitely put it out there.”

“I already ran it by him – he’s ok with it if you are.”

There went any excuse you could have thought of. If Joel was okay with it, how could you ever say no. You felt giddy at just the thought of going on a double date with him. That one night in the hotel being the closest thing you’ve had to a date in far too long. “That settles it. We’re going on a double date! Just keep it on the down low amongst the crew, yeah?”

“Keep what on the down low?” Sarah chimed in as she entered the crew mess for a snack. Each of you should have been doing work to turnover the boat for the next charter, but it seemed like everyone was feeling a bit peckish.

Tommy glanced at you and winked. “I asked Maria out and she said yes.” Sarah screeched in response, throwing her arms around Tommy. “That’s great! Where are you taking her? Tell me everything!”

You left the two of them to gush over Tommy’s plans and made your way up to the main deck to see what needed done still. The next couple of hours passed in a flash, the washdown keeping you busy. Joel held you back after the tip meeting – the guests left a huge tip after your heroic actions.

“Did Tommy talk to you?” His voice rough like sandpaper on fresh cut wood, causing a delightful chill to wash down your back.

“Mmhmm. You sure you want to do this?”

You held yourself back from reaching for him – it was torture, but you stayed strong. Joel glanced around the main salon confirming that it was empty but for the two of you. His head dipped, closing the distance between you, and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Yes, I’m sure.” A mischievous look flashed in his dark eyes, and he swatted your ass before departing for the bridge, leaving you giggling like a lovesick teen as you made your way below deck. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you giggled at the text from Joel.

JM: We’re going on a date!

By the time you showered and readied yourself for a nice evening out, the news of Tommy’s date – and your and Joel’s roles in it – was old news to the rest of the crew. Talia eyed you knowingly, her mysterious and quiet nature made you believe she saw a lot more than she let on. Sarah and Tess teased you, true to form. Jake just looked at you blankly, leaving you wondering if he was jealous.

“Make sure he pays!” Sarah demanded. “Do not take your wallet out under any circumstances.”

She was so adamant that her dad better treat you well that it left you with an aching belly from laughing so hard.

“I’m serious! He’s got it in his head that he’s a feminist and I’m afraid he thinks that means women should pay their own way. DO NOT let him get away with that, not on a Captain’s salary. You hear me?”

Your hands flew up in surrender, eyes wide at her earnest tone. “Understood. He pays. No exceptions.”

Satisfied, Sarah changed the conversation to compliment your choice in attire. You opted for the classiest dress you packed, a form fitting but not indecent black number that you had tucked away in your closet for years. It was definitely your go-to little black dress and it had been severely under-utilized for the past couple of years. You paired the dress with strappy heels – nothing too high, you didn’t want to break an ankle – and your long hair flowed over your shoulders in natural, beachy waves. Your makeup was subtle and classy, just a hint of color on your eyelids and lips to accentuate your tanned skin, a definite benefit of working outside.

“You look gorgeous,” Tess said as you did one last spin for them.

“Yeah, Dad’s gonna stumble all over his words when he sees you,” Sarah added, hugging you.

You blushed, picturing Joel staring at you in adoration, complimenting you with a nervous hitch in his deep, rumbling voice. Damn, arousal already built in your lower belly at just the thought. You were in for a delightfully torturous evening.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?” Joel breathed in your ear as you followed Tommy into the resort. “I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you at the table.”

“Who said you had to?” you teased in return, enjoying the warmth of his hand at your back. “And yes, you have, but please don’t stop. You look sinfully gorgeous tonight as well.”

Joel grinned, dark eyes twinkling behind thick framed glasses, his lush curls artfully falling into place atop his head. Your fingers ached to run through them, twist them around your slim digits. Part of you longed to dash away, get a room, and keep Joel to yourself for the night. But one glance at Tommy’s anxious smile, dark eyes scanning the outdoor tables in search of Maria, and you knew the pair of you would never be able to sneak away.

“Ah, there she is!” Tommy exclaimed, spotting Maria at a table tucked into a corner of the open-air seating area. He surged forward, soft breeze ruffling his long curls. You squeezed Joel’s hand, hanging back to let Tommy greet his date without the pair of you hovering over them.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Joel’s voice rumbled in your ear. “He must really like her.” Your head bobbed in agreement, turning to smile at him. Your faces were so close, the miniscule distance between you reduced further as Joel tilted his head, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. “Mmm, I really like you.” Joel’s lips pecked yours after every word.

“Come on already, love birds!” Tommy called, waving to you from his seat next to Maria.

“Nice to see you both again,” Maria greeted as you sat, her dark, smooth skin beaming with happiness.

Dinner was lovely, conversation flowing with a natural ease among the four of you. Maria and Tommy were equally enamored with each other and before long you and Joel were left chatting amongst yourselves.

“Want to get outta here?” Joel’s fingertips teased along the hem of your dress, stoking the fire that started building within you hours ago.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” Your chair nearly toppled backwards from the force with which you stood. Joel barely mumbled an excuse to his brother as you dragged him away, waving at Maria and Tommy over your shoulder.

A visceral need for him churned in your belly, skin buzzing as he dragged you around a few corners, backing you against a shadowed section of wall hidden from passersby and windows. Joel’s mouth was on you instantly, teeth nipping at your lips and scraping at your neck as he tasted your skin.

“Joel.” You drew his name out in a long, low moan as his fingers slid beneath the hem of your sundress and dipped past your panties. You were throbbing, wet and waiting for his expert touch. It had been too long since the last time you were together like this, the night at the hotel feeling like a distant memory.

“Sweetheart, all this for me?” His fingers left you briefly, bringing them up to his eyeline. Joel stared at the glaze on them, before slipping them into his mouth to suck at the irrefutable evidence of your arousal. “Fucking Christ, you taste good. Like nectar from a god damn peach.”

Joel made quick work of removing your panties, shoving the strip of fabric in his pocket as his lips met yours. A gasp left your lungs when his fingers sank knuckle deep inside you, his thumb teasing at your clit. The bundle of nerves already over sensitized, Joel made you come within minutes, his mouth swallowing your moans and whines.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Coming on my damn fingers already. So sexy.” Joel’s voice, rough with arousal, talked you through it, lips still touching yours as you breathed the same breaths. His free hand worked at his pants, setting his hardened cock free from its confines. “Need you, sweetheart. Now.”

“Oh, fuck.” Knees already weak from your orgasm, you hiked one leg up around his hip while he supported you, grasping your ass to hike you further up. Joel slipped inside, stretching your warm, wet walls with the sheer size of him. “Joel, love, you feel so good.”

Part of you couldn’t believe you were letting Joel fuck you against a wall in public. It was something you’d never done before – you were adventurous, sure, but not that adventurous. The other part of you didn’t give a shit. You were with Joel, the hard press of his body moving against yours bringing you both immense pleasure, and that was all that mattered.

Hands buried in those lush curls, you keened. “Faster, please.” Already on edge, you needed as much of Joel as you could get. “I’m so close.” His hips lurched in response, snapping faster, harder as his mouth latched onto the skin at the base where your shoulder met your neck. The sharp nip of his teeth followed by the gentle swipe of his tongue soothing the spot sent you over the edge. “Fuck, Joel!”

“Shhh,” he hushed you, fucking you through the height of your orgasm as your walls choked his cock. His thrusts became erratic, muscles flexing as he lost control. Your name flowed beautifully from his lip while his cum painted your walls. You stayed connected, chests heaving, and concrete wall cool against the heated skin of your back, as you both came down from the heights of ecstasy for several minutes.

“That was…”

“Yeah…”

There were no words.

The breeze shifted, carrying a slight chill in the night air, and you finally separated to right yourselves. Holding your hand out for your panties once Joel tucked himself away, you laughed when he just patted his pocket with a shake of his head. “Nah, I’m keepin’ ‘em.”

“Naughty,” you teased, grasping his hand as you walked.

The yacht was lit up when you made it back, the rest of the crew on the sundeck, dancing and carrying on. Laughter and buzzed conversations carried through the air as you and Joel quietly boarded without anyone seeing you. You knew you should join them on deck, but your heart ached to stay near Joel as long as you could. Joel seemed to feel the same.

Hand in his, you followed him through the interior to the bridge, brows shooting up when Joel merely nodded to Frank and dragged you around the corner to his quarters. You could hardly meet Frank’s knowing gaze as you passed.

“Joel, what –”

He silenced you with a finger against your lips, still puffy from the shared moments against the wall. “I’m not ready to let you go,” he murmured, shutting the door behind you. Large hands deftly removed your dress and bra, tossing them aside before slipping a fresh tee shirt over your head. “You’re staying here tonight, okay?”

Eyes widened comically, you merely nodded as Joel stripped down to his boxer briefs and pulled you into bed with him. You expected him to lead you somewhere quiet and private, but certainly not as private as his quarters. Settled beneath the soft sheet next to him, nothing in your life ever felt as right as laying there in Joel’s arms, his lips pressing tender kisses to your forehead. You only hoped he didn’t come to regret it in the morning.

The sky beyond the porthole was still dark, the first hints of dawn not yet peeking through when Joel drifted into wakefulness, your warm body tangled with his. Nose buried in your hair, he breathed in your scent, one hand caressing the soft, supple skin of your hips while the other cradled your head. He could not recall ever feeling such contentment, his heart fit to burst with emotions.

Joel’s hands continued wandering as he became lost in thought, imagining more moments like this with you. He could not wait to further explore things with you during the off season. You came in and set his life upside down in the best way possible when he least expected it. Falling in love did not come easy to Joel, but with you, it was effortless. He was falling whether he wanted to or not, it was inevitable and unstoppable.

You stirred beneath his touch when his hand dipped between your thighs, thick fingers teasing at your slit, already wet and ready for him. The sleepy moans you let out as he rubbed your clit hit his ears like a symphony. Joel continued fingering you until you were fully awake, clutching at him as he drew an orgasm from you.

“Joel,” you breathed his name into the dark room, mouth pressed to his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin. “What’s gotten into you?” His hands were everywhere, mapping your body, committing it to memory.

“You.”

Mind still foggy with a mix of pleasure and sleep, you stared at him, perplexed. “What?”

“You. You’re what’s gotten into me,” he replied with a soft chuckle, pulling you impossibly closer. “You wriggled your way into my life, beneath my skin, into my heart. Now you’re in my bed. Of course, I’m going to take advantage of that.” You were looking at him with such softness in your eyes, he knew you felt the same.

Your hands wandered as he spoke, body still buzzing from the aftereffects of your orgasm, and finally wrapped around his rapidly hardening cock. “Yes, taking advantage of that sounds like a good plan.”

Joel laid back, letting you take control, your touch setting him ablaze. Shuffling down toward the foot of the bed, you took him in your mouth, and he whined at the wet warmth encasing him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you worked him, taking as much of him as you could until his tip hit the back of your throat, tongue working along the bottom of his shaft and swirling around the head. He wouldn’t last long like that, hands grasping your arms to gently pull you up.

“Why’d you stop me? I was enjoying myself,” you sassed, climbing up Joel’s broad form, thighs settling on either side of his hips.

“So was I, but I didn’t want to blow my load so quick. You’re too good at that, beautiful girl.” You were painfully gorgeous in the pre-dawn light, the glow of your skin ethereal in the moonlight. He kissed you, tongue licking into your mouth to tangle with yours as you wriggled your hips until the broad head of his cock was perfectly notched to slip inside you.

You sank down on him, moaning into the kiss as you began to ride him with a slow rocking of your hips. Unlike last night, where the pair of you worked each other hard and fast from the overwhelming need of the moment, every movement this morning was lazy and loving, a slow build of pleasure until you came with a gasp, Joel exploding inside you shortly after.

Words were on the tip of his tongue as you clung to each other afterwards, drowsy and sated, but Joel swallowed them. Too soon, he reminded himself.

Sleep pulled you both back under for a couple hours until all hell broke loose.

tbc

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [1].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, secondhand stress HHAHAHAH. WORD COUNT. 2.9k.

TAGLIST. @seokgyuu @spjhyn @bat-shark-repellant @writingmeraki @lotties-readings @jenodreamer @gyuspeach @lexawoah13 @dvalitaes @agustdiv1ne @enhacatalog @soobs-things @tocupid @wonsays @kgneptun @sarang-ae @peaceout97 @outrologist @prettypei @luv4cheol @captivq @kueey @matcha-binz @loveherrschxr @haechology @bitehee @laylasbunbunny

NOTE. and so it begins!! grabbed seventeen’s “second life” and gave it to beomgyu’s band, by the way. future chapters will be a lot longer bcs this one is sort of just an introduction. please lmk what u think so far!!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 1 — the consequences of working with a choi.

One.

“I told you I won’t do any romance dramas!”

Choi Soobin isn’t usually one to throw tantrums. He’s gentleness itself, says the media. The loveliest, most humble and soft-spoken angel to have ever graced South Korea’s entertainment industry. Interviewees praise him for being so kind and warm. Award-winning actor Lee Minyuk decided to adopt him the day they first met while working on a drama just a year ago.

He’s so nice, so sweet, so lovely— a stark contrast to the roles he usually plays, but that doesn’t take away from the songs of praise that articles and Twitter posts usually string along with Choi Soobin’s name.

All of this is true of course. As long as you’re not contractually obligated to babysit his whiny, picky, six foot tall ass every single day.

“Soobin, why don’t you give it another—”

“This is ridiculous,” he huffs, crossed armed on the sofa with a tattered script sitting on the low coffee table before him. Manager Lee feels a headache kicking in. Why is this bastard acting up when the interns are in the office? Those two simply wanted to deliver the scripts for Soobin to pick from, but they are looking at his actor’s surprising behavior with wide eyes. Now, it’s going to be his job to make sure that they don’t run their mouths about the nation’s alleged first love actually being a spoiled brat.

“Soobin,” Manager Lee exhales for the nth time. This script is from Writer Kang. The Writer Kang! She wrote this script with you in mind as the lead. Can you at least maybe reconsider—”

“I’m not doing it.” Soobin won’t budge. He’s got a visibly troubled and offended look on his face and his manager wants to smack him upside in the head. How could he not understand that this is an opportunity of a lifetime? “Hyung, you know the reason why I even signed to this company in the first place. I’m not doing it. Absolutely not.”

He picks up the script like it’s a dirty rag— disgusted expression to match— only to reveal a page that suddenly prompts him to throw the entire thing across the room. The two interns flinch. Manager Lee feels his hair turning gray by the second.

“There’s a kissing sce— agh! Gosh! What will my soulmate think if she sees me kissing another woman?!”

“Soul...soulmate?” unfortunate intern number one voices out hesitantly.

“Is...Choi Soobin seeing someone right now?” asks number two, and Manager Lee wants to retire early. His actor is still ranting on and on about how there’s no way in hell he’s taking on this role. He doesn’t really wanna deal with that right now.

“No. He’s not seeing anybody. He’s never been in a relationship before.”

Manager Lee knows this because he’s been Soobin’s manager since the young star was still seventeen, when he was still as nice and well-behaved as the tabloids made him out to be. That same kid is now a grown adult and shuddering over a possible kissing scene in a screenplay. “Ahh. I can’t do this, I seriously can’t do this, hyung!” Fame does change people. Manager Lee wants seventeen year-old Soobin back.

“Then...then who is his soulmate…?”

It’s hard to imagine that an A-List star like Choi Soobin is suffering from unrequited love. “A woman from his past life,” answers Manager Lee. “Or so he says.” The interns look at him. Come—come again? their expressions seem to say. Manager Lee lets out an exasperated sigh. This one’s even harder to comprehend.

“Hyung,” Soobin finally calls out for him. Lee returns his attention to his artist, who’s now flipping through the other scripts on the table with an even more disgruntled expression. “Hyung, are these all the offers I have? They’re all romance! Don’t we have other options?!”

“The CEO wants you to expand your roles, Soobin,” Manager Lee flatly replies. “Your fans too. You can’t keep doing action-mystery-thrillers forever. It’s a waste of your visuals. They want to see you in lighter things too.” He walks over to pick up the first rejected script from the floor, dropping it in front of Soobin, who is currently a deflated balloon.

He’s changed. But sometimes it feels as though his artist hasn’t grown up ever since they first met.

“If you take Writer Kang’s drama, you’ll get even bigger, Soobin.”

“I’m not interested in fame,” Soobin mumbles, shoulders slacked and dejected. “I just want—”

“If you gain ever more fame, expand your reach, won’t that mean your soulmate can find you sooner as well?” Soobin takes the bait. He flinches upon hearing the word he’s been chasing after ever since, a glimpse of consideration flashing through his expression as he nips down his bottom lip. Manager Kim lands a hand on his shoulder. “Think about it, kid. You shouldn’t waste opportunities like this.”

Soobin lets out a breath. “I’ll...I’ll give it some thought.”

Dear god, finally. Manager Lee ushers out a sulky and troubled Soobin out into the hall with the script hugged against his chest and tells him to relax for the day. “Don’t overthink it. Just do what you want to do,” he says, after gaslighting him into positively considering the role. Still, Soobin needs this. He’s been stagnating since his last project, Study Group. He needs to switch up genres if he wants to improve.

“Wow,” intern number two exhales the moment Soobin leaves the premises. “You really are a veteran, sir. But does Choi Soobin’s soulmate really exist? Who is he looking for?”

Manager Lee shrugs and drops onto the sofa with a grunt. “Beats me. He doesn’t even know her name.”

*

Two.

“Yeonjun! Choi Yeonjun, look over here!”

“Choi Yeonjun, you look good today as well!”

“Please give a heart to the camera!”

“Fuck! Choi Yeonjun, you’re so fucking hot!”

That last one made Yeonjun’s mouth twitch into a smirk, and the screaming instantly became louder. Unintentional, but he relishes in the attention, anyway. He flips down his sunglasses to block the flashing lights from the cameras (causing another unintentional pandemonium), and his manager (Kim Noona, he likes to affectionately call when she’s about to yank out his hair roots for misbehaving) quickly ushers him into van before his rabid fans break through the bodyguards’ defenses and jump him.

“Good work today,” says Manager Kim as they start to drive away from the fansign venue. Yeonjun has his window rolled down and is blowing air kisses to the crowd. Ignorance is bliss, Manager Kim decides. “However, you don’t have time to run a catwalk on the way to the van tomorrow since you have another schedule immediately after the fansign. Try to strut for two minutes max tomorrow, please.”

“‘Kayyy,” Yeonjun hums, rolling the tinted windows back up and leaning back into the car seat with a satisfied groan. They’re on the way back to his apartment now. Time for him to start his routine. “Noona, do you have all the letters I got today?”

“Look to your left.” 

And there it is indeed— a stack of notes and envelopes and perfume-drenched messages of love and adoring affection. He flits through each one, skimming over every note and every letter like he’s looking for something. “Sleep early tonight,” Manager Kim tells him as he knits his brows, nearing the end of the stack. “You have a shoot in the morning, in case you forgot.” 

Yeonjun is back at the first letter he started with. Nothing, he lets out a sigh. Not one that he’s looking for.”

“Noona,” he calls out. “I’m going live right now.”

There’s a bump on the road.

“No, wait—”

[🔴 yawnzzn is live].

“Hehe. Yeonjunnie is here—!”

Manager Kim abruptly stops the car. Thank fucking god the road isn’t too crowded. She watches Yeonjun from the rearview mirror as he smiles at the outstretched camera and makes casual greetings and hello’s to the viewers, heart racing in fear. “Right now? I’m on the way back home. Can’t wait to get a nice shower once I get back.” Okay, she lets in a deep breath, starting the car once more. Yeonjun isn’t doing anything weird yet. Better to drop him off as soon as possible.

“Nooo, I haven’t had dinner yet, I’ll order once I get home. What do you guys recommend?”

He’s being normal. He’s acting fine. This is good.

“Ramen? That sounds good. Kimchi jjigae is also yummy.”

Maybe he just wanted to interact more with his fans, yes. He’s always been like that. Maybe he won’t say anything rash this time.

“Oh! The video with Mark Lee from NCT? Did you see us hugging? Hehe, Mark and I look good together?” They’re almost at his apartment building. They’re almost here. Once they arrive, Yeonjun will turn off the livestream and Manager Kim can finally fucking retire for the day. “That’s cute. But it’s too bad. I’m already interested in someone else.”

Screeeech!

The car stops. “Yeonjun.” But Yeonjun’s live stream is still ongoing. “Turn off the live.”

Yeonjun is smiling at his phone in painful ignorance. Manager Kim doesn’t miss the one second glance he spares at her. One second. One mere second before he starts inciting chaos even more. “Who? That’s a secretttt. I don’t want to tell you.”

Manager Kim’s phone starts buzzing. “Yeonjun, turn it off.” The buzzing won’t stop. Her personal phone starts going off as well

“Ah. Should I give you a hint?”

There’s an incoming call now.

“Choi Yeonjun, turn off the god damned—”

“Okay!” Yeonjun suddenly exclaims. He flashes a knowing smile to the camera, but his dearly stressed and overworked manager knows that it’s directed to her rather than the thousands of people witnessing the artist she’s in charge of stirring his third rumor of the week. Her phone won’t stop buzzing, it can be used as a fucking vibrator at this point. Choi Yeonjun is lucky he rakes in most of the agency’s profits— otherwise his contract would be terminated by now. “I have to go. My manager looks like she’s about to fire me, hehe. See you all tomorrow! Mwah!”

Just like that, the live stream ends, but Manager Kim’s phone is still incessantly ringing and beeping and giving the signal that Choi Yeonjun will once again go trending on Twitter— not in the way the company wants. Again. “Kim Noona?” Yeonjun calls out. “The light is green. The cars behind are honking at us.”

Manager Kim’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Yeonjun.” And they start moving again. “What are you gonna do once you get home?”

“Post a damage control photo. Got it.”

He knows. He knows yet he keeps pulling the same shit every week.

“Good...good— just,” his manager lets out a sigh, and they arrive at the front of his building. “No matter what I tell you, you won’t stop pulling these stunts, aren’t you?”

“Nope.” Yeonjun flashes her a grin, unbuckling his seatbelt, ready to slide the door open. “Thanks, noona! See you tomorrow!”

With that, Yeonjun leaves with a bounce in his step right after the mess he just made.

The problem is, Manager Kim can’t tell him to stop either after knowing exactly why he’s doing all of these scandal-bait, potentially career damaging things. It’s not something she can believe in, and it’s definitely not within the realm of reality. But after seeing the look on her artist’s eyes when he said— how many more headlines must he make until you can finally find your way back to him?

Well. All Manager Kim can do is work PR to their deaths for damage control.

*

Three.

“Why don’t we kick it off by listening to your latest single?”

Studio lights burn the set. Five seats are settled in place, four against one for an interview with one of the hottest K-Rock groups of the generation. Yeong-Il released a new single just earlier in the week, and it’s topped the charts ever since release. 

If I am given a second life I may live and breathe differently compared to now

Lee Heeseung looks happy to be here. So do Yang Jeongin and Lim Jimin. Choi Beomgyu, on the other hand, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now, complete with the faraway look on his face as he’s clearly not paying attention to the comments the host is making, instead drowning in melody and lyrics hummed by the speakers.

Among the streets we’ll walk past each other without knowing

“It’s quite different from our usual music, no?” Heeseung laughs.

I hope we remember each other

“Right!” Jeongin chimes in. “But I think we should hear from the man who produced and wrote this.”

Even in our next life Even at that time, I’ll go to you

“Choi Beomgyu!”

Even in our next life Even at that time, I’ll go to you

“Beomgyu, are you awake?”

Even if a second life That’s different from now comes to me The one thing I can say is That I’m going to be by your side

“Beomgyu!”

“Ah.” Beomgyu finally wakes up. He catches the concerned and nervous glances of his friends-slash-bandmates. Beomgyu takes the microphone from Jimin, tapping it once, before saying, “What do I do? It’s a little embarrassing to talk about this by myself.” Jeongin fails to hold back a snort at his lack of sincerity. Jimin sends him a nudge with his elbow. 

“Hey, this isn’t the first time you’ve written a song. Quit acting coy,” Heeseung manages to salvage the conversation, invisible sweat dripping down the side of his face. Beomgyu finally decides to stop stalling and answers the question.

“Well, anyhow, I think you can tell from the lyrics. Second Life is about a love that extends beyond lifetimes— promising that even after we’ve lived, died, and reborn as different people, there is still no one I’d love but you.” There’s some coughs from his bandmates. Beomgyu presses his lips into a smile. “That’s it.” And passes the microphone back to whoever reaches out for it first.

This kind of behavior from Yeong-il’s guitarist and vocalist isn’t new. 

The problem is, even though his team and fans are used to it, not everyone is, so the show’s host is taken aback by Beomgyu’s complete lack of care, unaffected and impenetrable. He stifles out a cough, flits through his cue cards. “O—oh, how romantic!” he exclaims. “I’ve noticed that a lot of your other songs that Choi Beomgyu-ssi has written seem to have a similar theme. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, it’s not really a secret, and it’s honestly pretty obvious,” Beomgyu answers, earning another nudge from Jimin. 

“He doesn’t seem like it, but Beomgyu is the biggest romanticist out of all of us,” Heeseung saves the day once more. Choi Beomgyu has been once dubbed as the biggest hurdle in every interviewer’s career. Nobody knows if he’s doing it on purpose, or if he really is just like that.

“We—well, can we ask what your inspiration is for writing this kind of music?”

It’s not a new question. It’s a question asked interview after interview to Choi Beomgyu whenever they release one of his songs riddled with his signatures of reincarnation, second lives, and first loves. But he’s always avoided answering them, sometimes going as far as outright telling the host that he doesn’t want to answer.

Though his bandmates are indeed both dreading and looking forward to the day Beomgyu would finally make a public answer to that million dollar question—

“Myself.”

—they certainly did not expect him to answer with the truth.

“What?”

“The tracks were inspired by myself,” he says, face flat, free from any sign of humor or jest. “I’m still waiting for my first love from my first life. There must be a reason why I still remember her and the life we shared. Doesn’t that mean we’re both destined to meet again?”

Silence washes over. Everyone on set is looking at Beomgyu, waiting for him to laugh or smile or crack a joke or some shit just to give an indication that he wasn’t at all serious with that statement. Their managers are frozen. They’re all looking at Heeseung to finally and neatly wrap things up before the mood gets worse.

Heeseung gets the signal. He quickly snatches the microphone from his friend and starts making bullshit up and praying to god that this part gets edited out. “Aha—ahaha, Beomgyu really likes to remain in character! That’s how much he takes his music seriously! Anyway—”

The rest of the interview turns up normally. No unexpected backstory reveals or trauma-dumps. No mentions of possible supernatural phenomena whatsoever and that’s mostly because Beomgyu decided to keep quiet for the rest of it.

He’s seriously a ticking time bomb, all but him share the same thought upon exiting the studio, until Heeseung finally confronts him about it when they reach the van.

“Dude, what the hell was that?”

“I know, I know. You don’t have to nag me,” Beomgyu groans. “We can ask them not to air that part, anyway. I’m just getting impatient.”

Impatience.

That’s a mutual feeling shared by all three of them. 

Twenty years. That’s how long they’ve been waiting. Centuries, if you count the period in between their previous lives and now. But when the person they’ve been waiting for finally shows up— patience will be a virtue that they’ll need to learn to strengthen. Patience. They’ll need to be a hell of a lot more patient if they want to take back what they lost.

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[eoieopda]

For drabblepalooza: Can’t Remember to Forget You by Shakira ft. Rihanna with fuckboy!ex!Yoongi please!

P.S.: This is such a fun idea. I love how creative you are, Jade-nim 💚

P.P.S.: I’m gonna send you a message with my age because I neeeeed this and don’t want to get bounced at the door!

oh shit! i haven’t heard this song since it came out and by god, it’s still a banger.

cw: exes au, fuckboy!yoongi, protected sex, oral sex (f receiving,) p in v penetration, ref to squirting, yoongi is a menace.

When Jiyu asked you to be her Maid of Honor, you knew it was going to be a clusterfuck. As her best friend, you wouldn’t dream of saying no to her. As the best man’s ex-girl, you’d created a nightmare by saying yes.

Last night’s rehearsal dinner went exactly the way you knew it would. You did your best to mitigate the chaos that was your friend group, but you’d failed. You tried to stay sober, but you’d failed. You tried to keep your eyes off Min Yoongi and his goddamn gold chain, but —

Could it even be deemed a failure if there was never any hope of succeeding?

Jimin, half-cut and scheming, kept furnishing you with overfilled glasses of pinot noir. You’d protested, told him over and over and over that you couldn’t get through the ceremony with a hangover. Had he sustained your objection? No.

Had you actually meant it when you objected? Also no.

At the bottom of a bottle, you’d found a headache and the absolute audacity. You’d then walked right up to Min Yoongi and declared — unprompted — that you would not be hooking up with him at this wedding. He’d looked at you, unbothered, and said, “Bet.”

And he’d been right not to believe you.

You’d survived him escorting you down the aisle prior to the ceremony; and you’d withstood the way his smirk always seemed to find you over the shoulders of the two exchanging vows between you. Through the ride to the photoshoot location and the shoot itself, you stayed on task and away from him. Even during your respective speeches, you’d refused to let him get to you.

Your final task, however, seemed to be designed to kill you. It’d started with Jiyu’s mother handing you a giant, godforsaken box of rose petals; shoving you and Yoongi towards the exit; and instructing you both to decorate the honeymoon suite.

It’s tradition, she’d gushed. It’s torture, you’d thought.

It had ended up with you and your ex-boyfriend alone, semi-buzzed, in a room specifically intended for one purpose. You were doomed. You knew it — and judging by that look in his eye, so did Yoongi.

Cut to: Yoongi looking at you and flicking his tongue out to wet his smirking lips.

Cut to: Yoongi innocently touching your hip as he reached around you for a handful of petals to scatter.

Cut to: Yoongi’s pelvis brushing against your ass as he passed behind you towards the bed.

Cut to:

“I’m curious,” he hums, “Did you forget your declaration last night and your panties?”

His tongue flattens and drags up over your cunt, lapping up the orgasm he was so quick to pull from you. You can’t respond because you’re still rocketing through different planes of existence. Astral projecting, fucked into oblivion — yet again — by that fiend and his goddamn tongue.

Yoongi stands and your trembling continues — not solely because of the aftershocks you’re still experiencing, but because he’s undoing his belt with one hand and fishing a condom out of his pocket with the other.

It’s masterful because of course it is; he’s well-practiced.

“Or did you purposefully forego them both because you can’t forget me?”

He’s smirking as he rolls the condom down his length, amusement dripping — like you — with his words. You can’t even generate a response to his teasing. All you have to offer is a moan as he lines himself up and sheaths himself in you.

Yoongi rolls his hips, grinding into every stupid part of you, and your reply is merely to whimper. Like his pace, his teasing is relentless. He grits his teeth and punctuates his sentences with unimaginably deep thrusts, “Don’t pretend you don’t remember, doll — I hear how wet this pussy is — squeezing me like this because your body — refuses to let me go.”

The comforter you’d dutifully covered in rose petals is now clutched in your white-knuckled fists. Just like Yoongi, those petals press against your sweat-slicked skin. Would they stick to you afterwards, the way he always seemed to?

You shove your guilt into the back of your brain and resolve to feel like a bad person later. For now, all you’re capable of feeling is Yoongi rearranging your goddamn guts.

“I may need a reminder, though,” he laughs menacingly while his hand drops from the nipple he’d been pinching to your clit. A wolfish grin spreads across his face; you jolt the second his finger flicks over your clit, “Am I still the only one who can make you squirt?”

[icespur]

Akeshu Daughter from the future in Mpreg Akiren During Strikers AU:

Credit to “@iftheworldendsinflames” for bringing up the idea. 

She originally brought up the idea for the “Mpreg Akiren during Strikers” idea, but I could see this working for a couple scenarios, I’ll split them into separate posts.

So, one plot issue with this particular scenario is “Why would Komari be there in the first place?” Since most “from the future” plots, have said person from the future come to the past to warn someone of something, or to fix or prevent something bad from happening themselves. 

For this case, there’s nothing really world endangering or life threatening in Strikers that could be perilous to Komari and her future, so what if she got sent to the past somehow by accident and so her goal is to get back home and she needs the assistance of the Phantom Thieves but at the same time, obviously can’t fully reveal why and who exactly she is as that might rewrite her original reality she’s from, or worse, erase her from existence entirely. 

So, she goes “undercover” in a sense. She keeps her first name, but goes by a different allies off the fly after nearly fucking up her cover—

“I’m Komari Ama—--uh—-Ake—-Ah–ak—ak–a–gi? Yes! Akagi. Komari Akagi, that’s me!” 

Inspired after remembering a Japanese Jazz pianist with that surname. That kanji spelling of  Akagi translates to “Red Castle” which—is unintentionally similar to the meaning of “Amamiya” which means “Rain Palace”. So already she’s made a subtle whoopsie. 

I like to think Akechi would also take his child to the Jazz Jin to keep the tradition and so Komari grew up listening to the Jazz Genre and probably came across the name Akagi by listening to one of his songs. 

Out of panic and memory, she chooses the surname which also translates to something similar to what one of her fathers surname means, it’s too late to pick a different name so all she can do is internally hope and pray they don’t catch on.

She does openly tell the Thieves things about herself if asked or randomly if a subject reminds her of her upbringing, but of course nothing outright

Like, she obviously can’t say: “My Parents are Ren Amamiya and Goro Akechi”. But she brings up in passing “Oh I don’t have a “mom” I have two dads actually.”

“Oh, you’re adopted then?”

“No, one of my dads gave birth to me.”

“...........Wha?” Everyone is puzzled as hell at that response until they remember “Oh wait, we have a pregnant male party member.”

Ryuji jokes that Ren and Komari’s dad should meet one day so they can bond over pregnancy experiences. Komari laughs in response but internally is freaking out because “I’m in deeper shit than I thought. Not only did I go back in time, I got dropped in the year I was born, Ren is my dad, he’s pregnant with me.”

She actively avoids interacting with the newborn version of herself to avoid a paradox. One of the Thieves notices this and asks her why she doesn’t seem to want to be around the baby, and she doesn’t want to come off as rude or heartless so she doesn’t want to use the “Oh, I don’t like children” excuse, so she stammers out an accidental declaration that she has a crippling phobia of babies. 

Out of instinct she’ll slip up in interactions by acting too familiar with the group, or little genetic quirks and mannerisms inherited from her parents will shine through. Most of them go over the Thieves' heads, but Ren silently takes notice and can’t help but be reminded of Akechi in more ways than one. 

Komari inherited Akechi’s eye color and front bangs of his hair. Hair color wise, is from Ren; black and naturally messy.

Black hair and Brown eyes isn’t that uncommon of an appearance in Japan. But Ren knows those eyes, the reddish brown tint of his allegedly deceased rival. It’s probably why he can’t help but smile fondly when talking and looking at her. He hopes his and Akechi’s unborn daughter inherits the same eyes. 

When meeting Morgana in this timeline for the first time, unlike everyone else’s first reaction to him, Komari doesn’t do the “AH WHATTHEHECKATALKINGCAT?!” thing since she grew up with Morgana so already knows about his ordeal, so purely out of natural instinct she treats him with respect and an individual which gives her good points from him off the bat because “Finally, someone that treats me as an equal. Why can’t you be more like Mari-Chan, Ryuji? I like this girl, I say we’re keeping her!” 

She almost slips up by nearly referring to Ryuji, Yuusuke, Ann, Makoto, Haru and Futaba as “Aunt/Uncle”, more times than she’d like to admit. 

Seems to have a personal hatred for politicians. When asked, she explains “My family doesn’t have good experiences with politicians.” 

Has an unconscious habit of referring to people that anger her as “Trash” under her breath.

Wears black gloves that Ren especially takes notice of. He asks her about them and how they remind him of—-someone he really cared for and misses. Afraid that he could be getting suspicious of her, and immediately regretting responding with “Oh, these belonged to one of my dads.” She waves off the similarity with “Black is a common color for gloves, i’m sure it's just a coincidence.” 

Very—-- “enthusiastic” when fighting shadows in the Metaverse. It scares the shit out of most of the Thieves, except Joker, who gets instant “Third Semester Black Mask Akechi” flashbacks, and tears up while watching the strange yet familiar girl massacre the shadows. 

The Thieves say that Komari reminds them of Ren. Much to Ren’s bewilderment because according to him “Me???? Really, I mean if you say so, but I don’t really see it. Is it our hair color? We both have black and messily textured hair.”

Mari-chan inherited Ren’s humor, playfulness, courage and charisma. When she smiles and interacts with the group, it’s genuine. She’s also naturally honest which could explain why she’s making so many unintentional fuck ups by revealing too much information about herself. She most definitely did not inherit Akechi’s acting and ability to put on a false mask in public and it shows. 

I cannot stress enough how the only thing that would save this poor girl from unintentionally causing a paradox is if the Phantom Thieves and Ren are all simultaneously cursed with sharing one braincell. 

She’s trying, she really is. But if the Akechi from her original timeline could see this he’d be facepalming and sighing in disappointment, then in utter defeat calls Ren over to give him a heads up that there’s going to be some drastic changes to their reality because their lovely pride and joy somehow got herself teleported to the past to the year of her birth and is flopping like a fish out of water at mission “Go undercover and befriend the past versions of my family, reveal that I’m from the future but not my exact identity, so they can hopefully help me return to my reality.” Because he just got reminded that she inherited Ren’s intellect and now they and everyone in their reality is fucked.

[thebabblingbrookenook]

The Viscount Who Loved Me Too Much - Part 3

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Hyacinth Bridgerton , Anthony Bridgerton x Violet Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: Modern AU - A continuation of The Viscount Who Loved Me Too Much Part 1 and Part 2 . This chapter changes from Reader’s POV to Anthony’s in an effort to give us a little more insight into what’s going on with our Viscount. While Anthony grapples with the depths of his feelings for his Reader, Violet calls on Anthony for a favor. His sister needs his help.

Warnings: Not really anything to warn you about. If you are afraid of emotional growth and cheeky banter, then look away lol

Word Count: 5.1K

Author’s Note: @colettebronte is a beta - reading hero! Shout out to my Discord friends for helping me with fun ideas for this installment. I do plan to continue this story for as long as it makes sense to do so. Bear with me!

_________________________________________

Six weeks, four days, and some odd hours…

Apparently that was the length of time in which it took Anthony Bridgerton to fall in love. He knew when she awkwardly approached him in the bar that night and stumbled her way through an attempt at flirting that she was going to be important in his life. What he didn’t realize was that she would be the one to remind him of all the things that made life worth living.

She was a survivor. She fought relentlessly for her life - kicking, screaming, and clawing her way to the happiness she deserved. She was a marvel, and he constantly stood in awe of her. She made him want more than to merely exist. She made him aware of every ounce of joy he had been missing over the past year, but she also felt like his promise for a redemption of the time lost.

As he sat smiling at the ridiculous photo she just sent him of herself, he caught himself saying it aloud. It came as naturally as hushing Benedict’s sarcastic teasing, or sighing at his mother’s affectionate meddling. It was as if the words belonged on his lips. Light and free, with a huff of laughter he declared, “God, I love her.”

It was probably still a bit too soon for him to shout it from the rooftops for all to hear, but he knew it was true. He loved her, and eventually he would gain the courage to tell her so. Until then, he would revel in every second she allowed him to spend in her presence, every day adding new truths to his list of reasons to love her. 

He was about to respond to her cheeky midday text when his phone started buzzing, flashing a picture of his mother across the screen.

“Hello mother,” he answered.

“Oh, hello darling!” she beamed. “I wasn’t expecting you to answer. I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Not yet,” he teased. “But it’s only a matter of time.”

“You wound me, son. I don’t know where I went wrong in raising you.”

A warmth that he associated with childhood started to bloom in his chest. Violet Bridgerton had a million admirable qualities, but chief among them was her playful sense of humor. “My apologies, Lady Bridgerton. How can I possibly make amends?”

“Oh, good! I’m glad you asked.” she said without missing a beat. “Are you busy today? I wasn’t sure if you were working from home or the office.”

“Bex informed me this morning that my afternoon meeting was canceled, so I took the rest of the day. I have plans later this evening with…” he paused, unsure if he was ready to share her with anyone else just yet. “... with a friend. Other than that, I’m at your disposal. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I was just wondering if you could collect Hyacinth for me. The school called. It seems she isn’t feeling well and needs to be sent home. I would go, but I’m on my way to a bridal boutique with Daphne at the moment. Genevieve Delacroix is having a trunk show and your sister has her heart set on one of her dresses. Simon, the dearheart, set up an appointment with the designer as a surprise.”

Anthony shook his head at his friends' over-the-top gesture. Leave it to Simon to find new ways to spoil Daphne beyond belief. It was hard for Anthony to see Daphne as a woman who was ready for marriage, and not as a tiny, bossy little girl that followed her brothers everywhere they went. But if it had to be someone, he was glad it was Simon that his baby sister deemed worthy enough to trust with her heart. 

“Of course I will. She must really be sick to call home. That kid would sooner die than admit defeat.” Worry started to take root in his chest. He knew it was perfectly normal for kids to get sick from time to time, but Hyacinth was such a steady, constant little thing. She never wavered from her determined strength. At least not where the prying eye could see.

“Thank you, Anthony.” Violet sighed with appreciation. “Give her a kiss for me and tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“I don’t know about all that, but I’ll certainly let her know she crossed your mind.”

Violet huffed her reply. “What have I done to deserve such an obstinate child?”

Anthony found himself laughing again. It felt good. “God clearly thought you needed a challenge since the rest of your brood would prove to be so easy. I’m honored to be the one assigned the task of keeping you sharp. I think I’ve done a great job so far.”

“You’ve done a great job of making me old, that’s what you’ve done. When do you think you might retire?” she asked lovingly.

“As soon as you stop meddling and insisting that you know what’s best for me.”

“So, never.” she quipped.

“Have fun with Daph today, and try not to worry about Hyacinth. I’ll take care of it.” he promised, directing the conversation to a close.

“I know,” she replied, her voice steeped in motherly love. “You always do. Thank you, dear. I love you.”

“You too,” he returned, discomfort settling in his shoulders. He still had a hard time hearing those words when they were meant for him. He didn’t deserve them. Too much had happened. He failed too many people to be awarded that privilege. Especially his mother…

“Oh, and Anthony… One more thing before you go,” her voice took on the chastising quality that only a mother could master. “When are you going to introduce me to the lovely young woman you’ve been so clearly infatuated with for the last few weeks?”

“How did you...” he questioned with shock.

“Oh, come now Anthony. A mother always knows.” He could hear the victorious smile in her voice. “Plus, you’ve been walking around all sneaky and secretive like a fourteen year old boy. It was either a woman, or I’m about to get a call from your old headmaster claiming that he caught you bringing farm animals into the school again.”

He desperately wanted to change the subject. “Priorities, mother. Hyacinth needs me. We can talk about this later.”

“I agree. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll be at the office to meet with the barristers regarding the foundation. You can take me to lunch.” That was that. She hung up the phone before he had the chance to protest. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Hyacinth Bridgerton sat in uncharacteristic silence while she waited with the school nurse for what she had hoped would be a quick rescue. What was taking her mother so long to get here? Didn’t she know that being the baby of the family granted Hyacinth the right to be the center of her mother’s universe? What could she possibly be doing right now that would keep her from rushing to her aid?

“Hyacinth,” the nurse prodded. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather lie down? You look a bit too pale for my liking.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. 

She wasn’t fine at all. She was in the worst pain she had ever felt in her life. All she wanted was to go home and crawl up for a good cry. She wouldn’t break down here. Not with someone watching. She would hold it all together until she was in private. She was a Bridgerton - weakness didn’t run in their blood. She had seen Anthony do it a hundred times. He was a master at taming his own emotions until the time was right. If he could do it, so could she. 

Although, she doubted her brother ever had to deal with anything equal to likes of this. It was excruciating and horrifying. There was a good chance she was dying. She didn’t know how much longer she had left. Hopefully her mother made it in time.

A knock wrapped on the door and the secretary popped her head inside with a smile. “Miss Bridgerton, your father is here to take you home.”

Hyacinth’s lungs forgot how to breathe. Father… this was obviously a mistake. Maybe they meant to collect the young girl in the corner with her face hunched over a bucket. “I think you may have the wrong student. My mother is coming for me.”

“No,” the annoyingly chipper woman replied. “He asked for you by name. Grab your things and follow me. I’ll walk you out to him.”

They walked in silence through the corridor. Hyacinth only remained upright through sheer force of will. She was already preparing her “I told you so” speech when realization hit. And with that realization came dread. There was currently only one person that someone would mistake as her father…

Her nightmare was confirmed when they rounded the corner to find Anthony anxiously awaiting her arrival. He rose to his feet the second he saw her approaching, worry widening his soulful eyes. It was strange to see him here. Actually, it was strange to see him at all. She tried not to hold his absence against him. This had been one of the hardest years for their family. Especially for Anthony. And she understood her brother. She knew why he distanced himself. She knew he needed the space to rebuild in solitude. But she missed him, and she couldn’t help feeling a little like he’d abandoned her. 

“Hyacinth,” he fretted, scanning her over from head to toe. “Are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the doctor?”

“No!” she panicked. “No doctors. Just take me home please.”

“Of course,” he said softly before taking her backpack from her shoulder and slinging it over his own. It was a small but sweet gesture that left her eyes misty. He was somehow both the last and exact person she wanted here with her right now.

She was relieved to see that he had opted to drive himself instead of taking his driver. She didn’t need anymore witnesses to her impending meltdown. 

Hyacinth could feel him eyeing her cautiously from the driver’s seat as they made their way through traffic. “You’re staring, Anthony.”

“I’m just worried. You never get sick. Your face is as white as a sheet and you look like you’re about to puke all over my car.”

“Well knock it off,” she scowled. “I’m fine.”

He scoffed, irritating her even more. “You’ve always been a horrible liar Hyacinth. You’re allowed to not feel well. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s none of your business Anthony. Just take me home so you can get back to whatever it is you were doing before I inconvenienced you.” She regretted her words the moment she saw the hurst flash across his face.

“I’ve never thought you were an inconvenience Hyacinth. Not even once. Now will you please tell me what’s wrong? I can stop at the store before we get to the house and pick up some medicine if you need.”

“My stomach hurts, okay. Now can we please drop this?” she wasn’t above begging him. 

“Alright, well I’ll just pop into Waitrose and grab you some ginger ale,” he offered.

He was only trying to take care of her, but she was irrationally angry at him. She just wanted him to stop talking and drive her home so she could die in peace.

“It’s not that kind of stomach ache, Ant. I don’t need ginger ale.”

“Okay, then maybe I ca-” she cut him off before he could provide another option.

“Ughhh! If I tell you what’s wrong will you shut up?” When he nodded his concession she took a deep breath and went on. “I got my period today in front of my entire gym glass. Marcy Fisher told everyone I was a freak and to stay away from me if they didn’t want it to happen to them too.”

From the look on his face, Hyacinth was sure that she’d thoroughly traumatized her eldest brother. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat before he responded. “But… you’re only twelve. You’re still… so small. Are you certain?”

She rolled her eyes at his very male reaction. “I’m pretty freaking sure, Anthony. I’m not a baby anymore. According to Eloise, this means I’m a woman now.”

“Oh, God,” he groaned. “Please don’t say that. I’m not ready.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you better buckle up brother, because this is happening. It hurts, it’s disgusting, I’m mortified, and I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. Especially not with you.” 

“Do you want me to ring mum?” he asked desperately. 

“No!” she screeched. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone else. Swear it, Anthony!”

“Alright, alright! I swear it. Relax.” He had to restrain from wincing at the glare she shot him.

“Good,” she sighed. Some of the tension visibly left her body with the knowledge of their pact. “The last thing I need is Gregory finding out. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Anthony drove on in silence. He knew this was a big day for his littlest sister, and he was trying his best to not react poorly. He was not the right person to be handling this. Almost anyone else would be more well suited. He had to assume that his mother wouldn’t have sent him if she knew what was really going on with her daughter. This was the kind of thing he would normally call Benedict for help with. He always seemed to know what to do where their sisters were concerned. He had a much more delicate touch than Anthony. But he couldn’t call Benedict. He couldn’t call anyone. Hyacinth had forbidden it, and he didn’t want to face the tiny girl’s wrath if he ignored her wishes. 

His plan was to just keep his head down long enough to get her home and then wait for his mother to arrive so he could slip out undetected. Yes, that was the plan. Sit down, shut up, avoid disappointing her. That is until he heard the muffled sniffles coming from the other side of the car.

He could never stand to see Hyacinth cry. It never failed to render him useless. All he wanted was to comfort her, but he didn’t always know how. It was a lot easier when she was four and just crawled into his lap for a hug. It was easy to chase away what scared her when he could just pick her up and remove her from the danger all together. But now… what did he do now?

“Hyacinth…” he treaded carefully.

Thankfully, she let him in without a fight. “How am I supposed to face them all tomorrow, Anthony? Marcy Fisher said…”

Anger boiled behind his eyes when he identified the source of his sister’s tears. “Marcy Fisher is a snot-nosed spoiled brat with a father that can’t find a job with a salary large enough to support his coke habit and a mum who is so vapid that she has to pay people to be her friend. Marcy Fisher can piss off. You’ll face those kids the same way you do every day - as a Bridgerton.”

Her responding laughter was contagious until it turned into painful sobs without warning. Alarm bells sounded in his head as he began backpedaling. “Shit, what have I said?! I’m sorry Hy, please don’t cry. You don’t even have to go to school tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head, gathering herself. “It’s not you. Well, it is, but not in a bad way. I just forgot how much you get me sometimes. Sorry, I’m really tired and probably sound like a blubbering idiot. How embarrassing.”

“Just hang in there,” he assured her. “We’re almost home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Anthony was sure Hyacinth was ready to be rid of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. Once they reached the house she had immediately gone for a shower and insisted that she didn’t need anything else from him. She claimed everything else could wait until their mother got home, but he didn’t think it was right that she should have to wait for what she needs just because he might be a little uncomfortable. 

There were a lot of things over the years that he fucked up when it came to Hyacinth. She needed a father but she got him instead - a disappointment since she took her first breath. There was probably loads yet that he would surely get wrong, but this he could do. 

Or so he thought…

He stood frozen with indecision in the middle of the feminine care aisle of their local pharmacy. There were so many options to choose from. How was he supposed to know which ones to pick?!

An understanding laugh pulled him from the ledge of his looming panic. “You’ve got the terrified look of a first time dad. Need some help?”

Anthony met the eyes of the kind stranger with gratitude. The man looked to be well into his fifties and reminded him unsettlingly of his father. “Please… I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Everyone’s gotta start somewhere,” the man said, clapping him on the shoulder. “How old is your daughter?”

“She’s twelve,” he sighed. “She’s only twelve. That seems too early, doesn’t it?”

“One of my girls was ten,” the man confided. “You were lucky. You got a couple extra years of normalcy. It will be like riding lightning from here on out.”

Anthony watched in amazement as the man picked up items from the shelf and set them into the basket in his trembling hand. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiled. “If I were you, I’d toss in some ibuprofen and some sweets. And anything else that might make her feel loved.”

He could do that. He loved buying Hyacinth things that made her smile. She always rewarded him with hugs. “Thank you again. I would have been standing here all day if you hadn’t come along.”

The man instilled one last piece of wisdom before taking his leave. “Just remember, you’re never doing as bad as you think. And hold on tight for as long as she’ll let you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Hyacinth came out of the shower, bundled in the coziest sweats she could find, Anthony was gone. She was equally disappointed and relieved. Being with her brother always made her feel special. He looked at her like she was his most treasured possession. Like a tiny, delicate gemstone that he wanted to protect at all costs. But he also hovered and fussed. And his keen observation skills made it way harder to get away with cheeky activities. Sometimes the authority that he carried made it hard for her to just relax. There was always that lingering fear of seeing disenchantment dull his warm eyes. 

It was hard for Hyacinth to be around him when he was sad. She could feel the effort it took him to present himself as having it all together. He might be able to fool other people, but not her. Everyone else believed that mask because that’s what they wanted to see, but the truth was in his eyes. He was tired. Life hadn’t been pulling its punches lately, and her invincible big brother was dancing with defeat. It made her angry. She knew that wasn’t fair - he wasn’t perfect. The pedestal she placed him on was always unsustainable, she knew that. She just wasn’t ready for how it would feel to see him as a normal person and not the hero the little girl in her remembered so clearly.

She had noticed a change in him lately though. He smiled a little easier, his body looked stronger - he wasn’t as fragile. She didn’t know what happened to make him feel more like himself again, but whatever it was, she was grateful.

She had just climbed under the comforting fabric of her plush blanket when she heard the knocking on her bedroom door. Anthony poked his head in before she could answer.

“Hyacinth, are you in here?” his eyes searched the room before finally landing on the Hyacinth shaped lump under the covers.

“You came back,” she stated, happiness tugging the corners of her mouth toward the sky.

“I know you wanted to be alone, but I’ve brought you some things.” He took a tentative step into the room.

Heat rushed to the tops of Hyacinth’s cheeks. “You went shopping for me?”

“I wasn’t sure what all you would need, so I just bought one of everything.” He handed her the large paper bag he clutched nervously. “There are also some sweets in there. I got those little Battenbergs you like. And those disgusting Monster Munch crisps you fancy so much.”

Her eyes lit up. “Roast Beef flavored?!”

His face grimaced as he shook off his distaste. “Yes, but I beg you to wait to eat those until after I’ve left. I don’t know how you stomach the smell.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before continuing to dig through the bag. “Good God, Anthony! How much did you buy? I’m only one person.”

Her throat tightened with the effort to hold in a fresh wave of tears. She had just managed to stop crying and refused to start up again. A few salty droplets slipped past her defenses as she cataloged the contents of her care package. He had put so much thought into it. The image of him scowling at shelves of feminine hygiene products made her laugh. He really had thought of everything - snacks, medicine, a heating pad. There was even an adorable stuffed bumble bee. 

She felt the bed dip slightly when he sat down next to her. His anxious expression caught her attention before he spoke. “Hyacinth…” he paused, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over something concealed in his palm. “I know I haven’t been very present lately, and I’m sorry. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my own shortcomings.”

He extended his hand to her, revealing the antique gold pocket watch their father had given him. “Father’s watch?” she asked, confusion coloring her features.

“Open it,” he encouraged.

Gently, she clicked the delicate latch to display the same intricate clock face she’d seen a thousand times before. Tucked safely within the opposite side was a worn photo. A young Anthony holding…

“That’s us,” he confirmed. “The day you were born. You were so small… and loud.”

“Ha. Ha.” she deadpanned. “Why do you keep it here?”

As if the answer was obvious, he simply stated, “So that I’ll always have it with me.” Sensing she needed more, he went on, “My whole life changed that day. I was nineteen - young, dumb, and aimless. But then there you were, and suddenly I had a purpose. So I keep it with me as a reminder for when I get a little lost.”

His knuckle brushed against her cheek, wiping away a runaway tear. “You are not an inconvenience. You never have been. And I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel that way. I’ll do better, I promise.”

There was no stopping the free-falling emotions that cascaded down her face. She was moving towards him before she had a chance to think better of it. Climbing into his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He didn’t speak. He held her close, stroking her hair in reassurance, giving her space to feel.

When she calmed down, she pulled away, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her oversized hoodie. Anthony stood, smoothing out his now ruffled clothing. “I’ll leave you alone now,” he said with a smile.

The moment he turned to leave Hyacinth realized that’s not what she wanted at all. “Or… you could stay. Do you want to binge watch Love Island with me?!”

“Love Island?!” He was appalled. “Hyacinth, that is absolute trash TV. Utter brain rot.”

“Exactly,” she beamed. “That’s the appeal. Come on, Anthony. You can hate- watch it and complain the whole time. You know how much you love criticizing stupid people.”

Hyacinth lifted her blanket, inviting him to crawl in next to her. She laughed at his exasperated huff before he gave in and kicked off his shoes.

“Fine,” he conceded.

“Awesome,” she grinned victoriously. It was unnerving how much she looked like their mother when she looked at him like that. “Can we UberEats some McDonalds, too?!”

She had him right where she wanted him and she knew it. “Might as well,” he said, handing her his phone. “Garbage food to go with our garbage show.”

Even though he would rather pluck his eyes out than watch this show, he was content to just be here. Happy even. It was a moment worth remembering. Taking the phone she was handing back to him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. “Come here. I think we need an updated picture, don’t you?”

“Let me see,” she demanded. “If I look awful you have to delete it.”

“Whatever you say, your highness,” he chuckled softly.

“Aww! I love it,” she approved, sending the photo to herself. “You’re smiling.”

Anthony stared down at the photo contemplatively. She was right, it turned out nicely. He already knew the exact spot he wanted to place it on his desk.

The time on his phone caught his attention. It was already two o’clock and he was supposed to pick his girl up for dinner at half past six. He had been looking forward to seeing her all day but he didn’t want to cut his time with Hyacinth short.

Texting her the picture of him and his sister, he asked:

Anthony: Would you be opposed to pushing dinner back until 8:00? I’m on big brother duty.

She sent him back a gif of a cartoon cat with heart eyes.

Trouble: That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. We can reschedule for tomorrow if you want to spend the evening with your family. I don’t mind.

Anthony: I mind. I mind a lot. I want to see you. I’ve been thinking about it since I woke up this morning.

Trouble: Forget dinner, come straight to my place. I’ll feed you.

Anthony: What’s on the menu?

Trouble: Me.

He didn’t realize he had laughed out loud until Hyacinth asked, “What’s her name?”

“Who,” he played dumb, praying she hadn’t caught a glimpse at those texts.

Hyacinth rolled her eyes. “The girl that’s got you smiling like that. Duh.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no girl,” he sidestepped. “And I’m not smiling.”

“You’re so smiling. Have you told her yet?” she prodded.

“Told her what?” He realized his mistake a moment too late.

“HA! So there is a girl! I knew it.” She poked him playfully.

“God, you’re nosy. Maybe even worse than Eloise.”

“That is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me Anthony. But flattery doesn’t distract me for long. Soooo….?” she waited with unyielding patience for him to answer.

“Sooo?” he mimicked.

“Did you tell her yet?” She was relentless.

“Tell her?” Really though, what was she on about?

“That you love her…” 

His breath caught in his throat. “I… what? No…”

“But you do,” it wasn’t a question this time.

“Hyacinth…” he warned.

“Okay, okay. Will you at least tell me her name?” 

He took a minute to consider it. Was he ready? The bubble they existed in was fun and safe. Pressure free. The moment he let someone else in, it would raise the stakes. But isn’t that what he wanted - something real? She deserved that. 

“I’ll tell you, but this information is just for you. Understood?” She hooked her little finger around his in a silent promise. “Her name is Y/N.”

“Y/N…” she repeated. “She sounds beautiful.”

Anthony watched his sister with fascination as her eyes came alive with the romantic imagination that only existed inside the mind of a twelve year old girl.

Maybe one day he would remember how to see the world that way again too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, Anthony found himself fully immersed in the exploitative debauchery that was Love Island. Hyacinth had fallen asleep about thirty minutes into the first episode, now drooling safely on his chest, and left him to navigate the shallow dramas of the contestants’ lives. He’d never admit it out loud, but he could understand why someone might find their antics entertaining. It was so far removed from reality it was nearly impossible to look away.

He was about to make his predictions for this episode when there was a knock on the door.

“Hyacinth?” Violet called, opening the door. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Sshhh,” Anthony whispered. “She’s asleep.”

“Darling,” she greeted him warmly. “You’re still here. I thought you’d be gone by now. I thought you had plans, I didn’t mean to keep you from them.”

He waved off her concern. “It’s okay, I rescheduled. Besides, I think I’m right where I belong.”

“How is she,” Violet asked, feeling Hyacinth’s forehead with the back of her hand.

“I’ll let her tell you about it when she wakes up. She’s had a long day, but I think she’s hanging in there.” He smiled down at his snoring sister.

“I can see that,” his mother remarked as she observed the discarded candy wrappers littered across the bed. Her face transformed when she took in the sight of her children cuddled together so sweetly. “She misses you, you know?”

“I know,” he hung his head, averting his mother’s eyes. “I should have come sooner.”

Gentle fingers pushed his hair away from his face. “Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“Yeah. I guess…” It still felt like too little, too late. He had a lot to make up for, but this was a good place to start.

A stream of expletives sounded over the tv speakers when two of the contestants realized a betrayal. Violet turned her attention to the screen. “For God’s sake, Anthony! What on Earth are you watching? I hope you didn’t let your sister watch this rubbish. Those women are hardly wearing any clothes!”

“Really,” he smirked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He got the exact reaction he was aiming for. 

“Hush,” she reprimanded before turning off the tv and leaving the room.

The room was silent now, the only sound was Hyacinth's steady breathing. He felt himself relax into the soft pillowy mattress. His lids began to droop, his mind slowed to a blissful hum.

He had been out in the cold for so long. It was good to be home…

_____________________________________

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