#Well I guess technically this year was a Leap Year right?

[gobs-o-dice]

Dice Set #365 - Frostbourne

[sunboki]

⎯ PAPER PLANES a Kim Seungmin fiction

🛩️ : Kim Seungmin x gn. reader

TROPE. friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff fluff fluff galore

WORD COUNT. 1.5k!!

WARNINGS. cursing

AUG'S NOTES. still crazy about this concept💀 … i wrote this in 30 minutes in complete silence.. the demons have possessed me…

SYNOPSIS. Life in the city has never been as interesting as this. More specifically starting the moment your newest neighborhood, Kim Seungmin, moved in next door.

or alternatively :

It was only a matter of time before those paper airplanes turned into something more.

City nights are your greatest escapade and your worst nightmare. When insomnia plagues you awake, it’s easy to turn off all your fans and just listen.

New York isn’t called the city that never sleeps for no reason.

Whether it’s the faint honking of a car or the nearest nightclubs obnoxiously loud stereo, 24 hours a day almost every day of the year this city’s eyes remain open, and in essence, it makes you feel a tad bit better about those sleepless nights.

There’s the buzz of your surroundings, but as for your apartment complex, things are pretty quiet.

Well, you did intentionally choose a very much elderly-occupied residency after all.

Until somebody else showed up, somebody who didn’t explain to you on a morning basis of how they’re deciding on their casket.

And he sings.

Headed back from work up the elevator was when you ran into him for the first time. A smidge taller than yourself, puffy hair hanging over his forehead.

Neither of you talked apart from the courtesy “Which floor are you going to?” followed by an equally courteous “Five”, and you realizing you were both headed to the same place.

Elevators are a dangerous place. Anything could go wrong, technical issues, you end up trapped, weird strangers, and a myriad of unfortunate events waiting to happen. What’s worse? The conversations.

Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from the decades worth of elevators you’ve been on is that they’re either a place to never stop talking or never talk.

As for this discovered neighbor of yours, you spend a solid thirty seconds deciding the right course of action.

“So where’d you move from?” You pique, watching the numbers atop the door slowly increase.

“South Korea,” He responds, and out of the corner of your eye you notice him glancing at you, hands stuffed in his puffer coat’s pockets.

Mouth opening to speak, you immediately close it, evidently surprised. To think how hellish the flight must’ve been humbled you instantly, not to mention how he carried no accent when conversing.

But before you could ask any more questions the doors open and he wordlessly slips past you, leaving you to silently follow.

“Wait!” Calling out prior to him walking through the door, he stops, turning to you with a confused expression adorning delicate features.

“What’s your name?” You voice another inquiry, hand also fastened onto the doorknob.

He blinks, the action scarily resembling a puppy dog.

“Seungmin. Kim Seungmin.”

Seungmin.

Cute.

“Y/n, nice to meet you.” Nodding politely his way, he returns the gesture, a sudden unwelcoming awkwardness creeping further into your skin the longer you both stand there, staring at each other.

And of course your genius of a mind decides to open its big fat mouth.

“..I guess we’re neighbors, huh.”

No shit sherlock, You internally reprimand, wishing oh so badly to leap out of the nearest window.

Sucking his teeth, Seungmin hums agreeably, and you feel like the stupidest person in the world.

“Yeah well, bye!” Panickedly twisted the knob and racing inside to slam the door behind you, you sink to the ground, clutching your head pathetically.

“Y/n…” You whine, addressing yourself like a lunatic. There’s a heavy sigh, a leaning your head back, thumping against the wooden frame.

“…What the fuck is wrong with you.”

Nonetheless, the night you first heard his voice pitch through gleaming neon signs was one to remember.

Typing manically on your keyboard while a half-empty glass of watered down coffee occupied the space beside you, you squint, scrutinizing that same sentence at least a dozen times before ripping the headphones off your ears and raising up frustratedly.

This essay is definitely earning a rightful spot on your thirteen reasons why list, a close second to your first impression on Seungmin last week.

Stretching your arms above your head, you hear it. An entrancing, melodic tone sifting beneath your cracked window, decorating your bedroom in a decadent assortment of color.

Carefully tiptoeing to pry open the window fully, you crane, cheek pressed against cold glass.

It’s Seungmin. Face tipped to the side, lips halfway parted. You don’t know if he’s focused on something or what, but you know he’s the only thing that matters in this moment.

His vibrato, the way he perfectly slices notes into harmonious rhythm pulls you in like a hummingbird to nectar.

You find yourself aimlessly standing there, rocking back and forth of your heels, savoring the effortlessly sweet relief he fills your exhausted soul with.

Day after day he’d sing, voice never ceasing to calm your senses, as if supernatural, into a lulling drone. No thoughts, just him.

Occasionally it’d be a new tune, one familiar, one not. Over and over and over again you’d routinely wait for him, like a child rushing to see their favorite cartoon.

And as a result, Seungmin became one of your biggest sources of comfort without either of you knowing it.

Today is the day.

Reaching over as far as you can muster with the makeshift paper airplane held tightly, you attempt at reading the wind, trying to decipher the best time to launch this secret weapon of yours.

Well, not really secret (somewhat), and also not a weapon, but you get the picture.

This morning you’d taken tedious measures to ensure your innovative paper airplane note would successfully fly, especially since the note inside was just as innovative.

𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐. Was what it read, and you thought the compliment was pretty appropriate considering how often you’d admire his mellowed tunes in the eve.

Except, the first one was a fail, then the second one, and a third, and by the forth airplane you had paper-cuts all over your hands and a temper teetering on the brink of defeat.

Hey, at least three people today (almost four) would get a “I like your singing” note today.

Whoosh! Your note flies, and just when you begin to lose hope does it switch trajectories, successfully hitting his balcony’s screen door.

To say you shouted was an understatement. Hell, the entirety of New York likely heard your chanting, yelling, and the entourage of oddly proud noises in between.

Noises of which were quickly muted upon said screen door opening, to where you frantically drop down, peering between the chair’s legs to observe his reaction.

Seungmin glances around repeatedly, curiously, prior to peeling back paper folds.

You inhale sharply.

His eyes graze over the sentence, investigating his surroundings again.

No reaction.

You initially deflate, grumbling to yourself defeatedly.

Until a tiny sliver of hope peeks through dark curtains.

Seungmin smiles.

He covers his mouth (an action you don’t understand but start to considering how dazzlingly bright it is), and laughs. A soft laugh that has his shoulders shaking, corner of his eyes wrinkling into charming crescent moons.

You swear there’s a ring of sparkling light outlining him, like something out of a K-Drama.

His smile could (and should) win an award, you’re convinced.

And just like that he disappears back into his apartment, and you chant a nonstop “Oh my god!” a good thirty-six times, unable to contain the feather-light feeling spreading from your fingertips to the very tip of your toes.

Cute. Kim Seungmin was so, so cute.

From the sheepish grins he gives you each time he’s seen you since, you have a hunch he knows it was you who sent the note, but you choose to act oblivious.

Oblivious, before you received a note of your own.

Of course, Kim Seungmin’s paper airplane is perfect, aerodynamic and probably arrived on the first throw unlike your consecutive sacrifices.

Slowly shuffling open the response, you peek through hesitant fingers, slapping a hand over your gaping mouth upon witnessing his obviously perfect handwriting.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 :) , It reads. Something so mundane and proper there’s no reason you should be losing your mind, but you are, and the rattling of your heartbeat serves the best explanation.

You make sure to hang the note up afterward, right above your laptop.

So over the next few days, the both of you become more daring, more adventurous. Two paper airplanes turn into four, four to eight, eight to eleven. By now there’s not enough room to hang all of them up.

Meaningless conversations. Asking about dinner plans, what you’re currently doing, what your favorite hobbies are, favorite songs. But yet, they mean so much to you.

Your own, childish way of communicating even though the mature, adult reply would be to knock on his door.

Although, he seems to love it as much as you do.

𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? Is scribbled on the airplane he’d sent a few minutes ago.

𝙽𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚢? You write quickly onto one, hands nimbly constructing the shape after sending so many. Routine.

Returning to stirring the pot of boiling water in front of you, a familiar tap alerts you, padding over to grasp his letter.

Strangely, a part of you grows more and more excited, plopping down into your chair to gradually take apart his craftsmanship.

Your legs move before you can even register your own feelings, scrambling outside.

Seungmin’s there, breathtaking smile as brilliant as ever despite such dim lighting.

There’s no need to admit you’ve been sending them now. Especially not from the way he gazed at you, the words inscribed on that paper airplane.

𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

He bites back an even bigger grin, cheeks dusting rosy pink from the cold air.

Yes.

Absolutely yes.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[sungbeam]

nonidol!lee hyunjae x fem!reader

your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him!

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, fluff, angst, comedy/humor, swearing, college au, pining, hyunyn r kinda franchise movie buffs, shirtless hyunjae......, slow burn-ish lol, if ur a theater kid i am so sorry, stress and academic pressures, mentions of a bitter ex-friendship and ex-relationship, sabotaging and low-key terrorizing by an ex-friend, kissing, insecurity, lots of jargon i looked up and hope i'm using correctly, massive leaps in time and multiple chapters that span one day 💀, denial is a river in egypt so ig hyunjae's in egypt

▷ total wc. 30.9k (i actually overshot this one r we surprised 0_0)

this is the fourth installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to other fics, and all prev and future yns will be referred to as __!yn !! i do recommend reading at least one of the prior storylines ;')

a/n: mmmmmmmmmm idk what to say but have fun bye!!! AND REBLOG FOR GOD'S SAKE REBLOG PLEASE—

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): ONE ON ONE

“HAVE you always wanted to be a playwright?”

The question caught you off guard as you glanced up from your tablet screen, the white blue-light contrasting sharply against the warm amber radiating from the small, battery-operated lamp seated on the plastic folding table. There were a couple of technical issues going on behind the curtain at the moment, so the transition to the next person auditioning would be delayed by a couple minutes. In retrospect, it was nothing, but when you were already a couple weeks late behind schedule, a couple of minutes was everything.

A young and bright second-year student sat to your right in the middle rows of the university performing arts center nosebleeds. She was peppy and eager and passionate—all the things that you sometimes saw yourself as when you were her age. Her name was Bae Sumin, and she wasn’t here to audition, nor was she here for you. She was actually here to interview a few of the dancers for the winter showcase in representation of the university’s premier newspaper called The Daily. She had asked if she could sit in for a few of the auditions and observe, maybe ask a few questions; who were you to refuse an eagle-eyed undergrad who reminded you so much of yourself?

“Oh, well,” you began, eyes flitting to the velvet curtain where you saw a man in a dark baseball cap—Lee Jihoon—give you a swift thumbs up, “kind of. Playwriting was my first love, but it eventually turned into screenwriting over time.”

“So why choose playwriting for your capstone instead of screenwriting?” Sumin followed up, as you and her attention turned to the spotlit stage where your next auditioner walked out onto.

You knew the answer to that; you really did. But the audition was beginning, and though he was introducing himself to you, you couldn’t quite get your head in the game. Why did you choose to write a play over directing a film? You quickly murmured an answer to the second-year beside you as the student onstage had gotten so nervous he dropped his copy of the script on the floor. “I guess, when it counts, you always go back to your first love.”

— ✶

It was times like these where you really valued a good, strong cup of coffee.

“—I’m gonna stop you right there.” The poor kid—you really did feel bad for cutting people off sometimes, but you swore it was wholly necessary—froze like a deer in headlights. You stood up from your chair and began making your way down the aisle and into one of the rows that were closer to the stage. “Michael, is it?”

Michael, the student on stage who had been auditioning to play the role of a Napa Valley wine salesman, bobbed his head in affirmation.

You dipped your head. “Okay, Michael. Let me ask you: what is your motivation for this scene as a wine salesman? Because, if I’m being honest, dude, I’ve counted like… four different ways you’re playing this character.” In this singular scene alone. Your head was spinning from stress, and his mannerisms felt right for the role, but his acting itself just wasn’t hitting the mark. (If that even made sense, but your initial thought when he first walked onto stage gave you the aura of a business major.)

“Um,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head, “my motivation is to… sell wine?”

“Sell wine, and? What else?” Please pick up on the lines. Please tell me you read the other lines of this character.

He rifled through his packet of stapled script papers, clammy fingers flipping through and his eyes racing over lines. He probably printed out multiple sheets to audition for multiple parts in case this one fell through. “Oh! I, uhm, I’m supposed to eventually lock Alex and Kai in the wine cellar.”

“Because…” You prompted.

“Because… my boss is the… second cousin of the bride’s uncle?” He quickly added on, and you could see the cogs in his brain turning like rent was due (your rent—your rent was due—oh shit), “Wait! Wait! And Uncle Lee overheard the ex-boyfriend plotting to get Alex alone, so he asked me to hide Alex, and I do it because I want to get promoted.”

You punched the admittedly sky-high ceiling of the performance art hall. “Bingo. Now give me desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman, Michael.”

Michael did indeed give you a desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman. He did so, very well, in fact, that you declared that you were done for the day. Because you definitely were. If you saw any more people and heard the same lines of script over and over for any longer, you were going to commit murder. At least, not without filling your stomach first. When Michael was done and scurrying off stage, you caught one of the sophomores working with Jihoon—you thought her name was SW!Yn—and asked if she could have the house lights turned on.

You trudged back up to your original seat up in the nosebleeds and found that Sumin had disappeared off somewhere. However, she left a baby pink-colored sticky note on the table for you to read: I realized that I have an actual job to do, but watching you work was so cool. Thank you for letting me sit in! x, Sumin. She’d scrawled her phone number below the message line in case you were up for a proper session to let her pick your brain, and you felt yourself smile as you tucked the note into the back of your phone case for later.

“Yn-ie!”

You settled into your seat, an eyebrow cocked in blatant amusement as you watched your best friend, Lee Hyunjae, leap down from the stage and bound up the aisle to where you were. “Where’ve you been for the past two hours?” You mused as you began packing your things away into your backpack at your feet. Hyunjae had come in with you early this morning at seven, and for the three out of five hours you’d been conducting callbacks and auditions, he had been seated beside you to keep you (relatively) sane and to give you his opinion.

He, of course, had not been allowed to sit in for Kim Younghoon’s audition, because that was favoritism. Hyunjae tried to convince you by saying he would be even more judgmental of Younghoon, but you had effectively booted him out of the auditorium. After that, he disappeared to god knew where, and Sumin replaced him.

“I’ve been around,” he said to you casually. Instead of coming into the aisle were you were, he went up one more row. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch. Hungry?”

You patted your stomach, leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs over your head like a cat. “Yes, sir. I can go for a buffet and a half right about now.”

“Oh, a buffet and a half?” He chuckled. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your upper half and rested his chin on top of your head. Your heart skipped about a dozen beats then; his embrace was always very warm. “So that must mean you're resuming this train in the afternoon, too.”

“Glad to know you pay attention.”

“Hey!” He squawked indignantly, no doubt jutting his bottom lip out in a Younghoon-esque pout. “I do pay attention to you.”

You made a face that he couldn’t see, but he could feel you pat his hands. “Sure, buddy, sure.”

Cleaning up didn’t take too long, as you reassured (more so reminded) Jihoon that you would be back at around 3 o’clock sharp. If he or Chan weren’t in to turn on lights and the like, you were certain you could hold your own. You and Hyunjae agreed on heading over to one of the closer restaurants on the Ave, only a few minutes’ walk from the performing arts hall. It was a cozy sort of cafe that served really good wonton noodle soup for both winter and summer days (Hyunjae always teased you for drinking hot soup on hot days, but it was something you had done since you were a kid).

Once the two of you had settled in a booth tucked away into the corner of the establishment, you were both swift to relay your orders to the waiter. Saying you were starving would be an understatement.

“You know, there are just some people who I can’t understand how they’ve made it so far in the program,” Hyunjae said to you as you squeezed a wedge of lemon juice into his glass of water. “Thank you,” he beamed boyishly, accepting the lemony beverage to sip. “—I mean, I’m sure they got in somehow, and like—I have no right to judge, but at this point, shouldn’t you understand the basic principles of design?”

You gave a meager bob of your head, taking your own glass to repeat your actions with a new lemon wedge. “They should if they’re all graduating in one quarter, too.”

“They’re all doing capstones,” he confirmed.

You offered him an amused smile. “Well at least you know that you’re doing okay, then.”

Hyunjae sighed, leaning back against his booth seat. His gaze flickered out the window for a second, then his lip curled upward as he returned his attention to you. “I guess so. Oh!”

He straightened and leaned forward again, bracing his forearms onto the table so he inclined himself toward you. “I was gonna tell you all about my backstage adventure!”

You chuckled. “Do tell, Jae.”

“Well, we begin our adventure with collecting dance kids like Pokemon—”

You sputtered around your straw, nearly snorting water from your nose and you swiftly slapped a hand over your mouth. Hyunjae’s eyes lit up as he laughed, but he was reaching over to hand you a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “I did not expect you to say that,” you managed to croak through your miserable laughter.

Hyunjae wagged his eyebrows at you. “What can I say? I am hilarious.”

“One out of a dozen times.”

“One out of one.”

“One out of ten.”

Hyunjae simply smiled. He could do this all day. “One out of one.”

But so could you. “One out of ten.”

He leaned closer. “One out of one.”

Not one to be beaten out by your best friend, you inched closer with a slightly narrowed gaze. “One. Out. Of. Ten—”

“Order of wonton noodle soup and an order of dan dan mian?” Both you and Hyunjae shot apart, heat crawling up to your cheeks, and you wondered if it was obvious to the bored-looking waiter setting your food down on the table. You passed a glance across the table at Hyunjae, but as always, he seemed practically unfazed. In fact, he was grinning like a madman.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. When the waiter disappeared and left you and Hyunjae to your own, strange devices, Hyunjae took a pair of plastic chopsticks from the collection on the table, wiping the pair down, then handing them to you. You thanked him as you accepted the utensils from him and wiped down a soup spoon for yourself.

As the two of you began digging into your separate dishes—with Hyunjae dipping a spoon into your soup and with you reaching over to pluck a couple pieces of minced pork from his bowl—it seemed that a silent truce about the matter prior had come to settle.

Hyunjae suddenly cleared his throat, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t using his chopsticks. “So as I was saying earlier—I found Juyeonie somewhere—I can’t remember. And then we found Sunwoo. The poor kid was just wandering around like a lost sheep; he was looking for Changmin, so we all went searching for him. And then Younghoon caught up with us—how’d his callback go, by the way?”

You swallowed the bite you had in your mouth before answering. “He did great, as usual. But you’re not allowed to know more than that.”

He sent you a playfully unsatisfied deadpan. “Hmph.”

“Hmph, back at ya,” you teased. You arranged a perfect spoonful of noodles, soup and wonton, carefully blowing on the surface. “So where did you guys end up finding Changmin?”

"In a closet."

You lurched, furiously holding back your snort as you closed your mouth around your bite. Bad. Idea.

Hyunjae didn't bother hiding his giggles as he watched you struggle to chew and swallow your bite of food. "You okay over there?"

With a glare that needed no extended interpretation, you wrestled the food down your throat. "I hate you."

"Hehe, whatever you say," he sang. "He was technically in a dressing room, but same thing. He was miserable, dude. Looked so perturbed."

You scoffed. "Perturbed? What is this? The Fast and the Furious?"

"Hey! Leave my man Vin Diesel alone!"

You cocked a brow at him as you slurped noodles into your mouth. "No." And then you added, "There is literally no reason for there to be so many Fast and Furious movies."

He huffed at you. "You know, that's exactly what people say about all franchises. What would you say if somebody came after Star Wars or Marvel like that, hm?"

"I'd murder them, and you'd help me hide the bodies."

A beat passed. "Touché."

Your lip curled in mild satisfaction. "Okay, so why's the squirrel feeling so down in the dumps? Something about that ex of his?"

Hyunjae motioned vaguely with his free hand. "Ex dance partner. Apparently, it was this whole thing that happened in high school, but I didn't get all the details."

"Ah," you replied. "I'm sure a good cup of coffee can get him to perk up just fine."

"Agreed." Hyunjae's eyes went skyward as a thought occurred to him. You couldn't help but admire the definition in his jawline as he did so. "There was something weird that happened."

"Oh?"

He quirked his mouth to the side and a crease formed in his forehead. "Yeah… we were talking about your play, right? And I was agreeing with Changmin that the whole thing was my favorite because you wrote it—"

Oh. You nodded your head indulgently, expression set in a way that seemed like you were incredibly invested in what he was saying. In reality though, your insides were flaring and you could feel the sweat dripping down the back of your neck.

"—and they just looked at each other? Like that thing you and I do when we know exactly what the other person is thinking, but I didn't get it." Hyunjae wrinkled his nose, reaching for his water. "Wondered what that was about."

You averted your eyes to your bowl of soup, trying to get ahold of yourself. "Yeah," you laughed, and you hoped it didn't sound as nervous as you thought it did, "I have no idea what that's about."

He simply shrugged then. "It's probably just something stupid," Hyunjae mused, then chuckled. "Just my friends for you. Silly geese."

You cleared your throat. "Yeah…silly geese, for sure."

And you were going to have a talk with those silly geese.

EPISODE TWO: LET'S ROCK 'N' ROLL

THIS was not your first rodeo, and it certainly would not be your last. It was approximately two weeks later, the Saturday at the caboose of Spring Break, that you found yourself standing in one of the first few rows of nosebleeds with your hair pulled up and out of your face and a packet copy of your script in hand. The entire acting cast sat in a sort of half circle mass on the stage with their own copies of the script. Today was Script Read-Through Day—as well as an intermittent fitting day.

Thanks to the efforts of your fellow workaholic, drama nerd classmate Kim Hongjoong, a handful of costumes for the entire play had been completed over the length of Spring Break. You'd asked your cast to find time over finals week and Spring Break to get a quick fitting done by Hongjoong and his team, and luckily, all of that had gone smoothly.

Now, it was your turn to lean in.

"Let's get down to business, everyone!" You said with a clap of your hands to capture everyone's attention. Your eyes roamed over the faces of the people who were selected and your heart thundered in excitement. This—this was just one part of the rush you lived for. You didn't bother to suppress your grin. "Thanks for being on time and making it back here; I know I cut your break short, but we're on a very tight schedule. Can we start with going around and introducing ourselves with name, year, major, and role?"

The circlet of introductions began at Cha Eunwoo, the young man in your year who you selected for the role of Kai, the main male lead. Younghoon was cast as Ryan, Kai's best friend, and the guy who was marrying Choi Miyeon's character Lily. Minatozaki Sana was playing Alex, opposite Eunwoo. You had been surprised Younghoon hadn't auditioned specifically for the role of Kai, but you were content that he'd gone for Ryan instead—a simple chemistry reading with the four main leads the week prior had confirmed to you that you'd made all the right choices.

The main cast also included Jung Eunbi, Jung Yerin, Choi San, and Dong Sicheng, another close friend of yours. All in all, you had been incredibly lucky with the ending line up of cast members, and the supporting cast, too.

The read-through carried along smoothly—well, mostly.

“—why, of course, dear Prim! It mainly trickles down to a few… specific details—Yn,” said San as he abruptly broke out of character. Everyone’s heads shot up from their scripts, including yours, as you watched San’s hand air-gesture to an invisible beard on his face. “I’m getting one of those weird old man beards, right?”

There was a murmur of chuckles throughout the group, and you gave him a small smile. “Of course, you are. I asked Hongjoong for the perverted-looking ones, specifically.”

He grinned, nodding. “Nice!” He thought about it, “Wait…”

Younghoon coughed up a laugh. “Shall we continue?”

You inclined your head in affirmation. “Thanks, Hoon. Yes, let’s get back to it. We were at Uncle Lee’s line about ‘specific details’.”

San had been selected to play the character of Uncle Lee, the role quite literally taken from the original Shakespeare play yours was based upon: Much Ado About Nothing. Your thesis play, the biggest project you would ever conduct in your undergraduate years, was called Jasmine. The storyline centered around ex-somethings, Alex and Kai, who were Maid of Honor and Best Man to their best friends Lily and Ryan, respectively. Because of Alex and Kai’s troublesome past, they acted like they hated each other, and Lily schemed to make them finally see eye to eye—as a wedding gift to herself, of course. She also convinced a party of characters to get in on the plan with her. It had all been very fun for you to write, and you imagined that the actors up on this stage now would make it all the better when they brought it to life.

With the read-through completed, you began splitting up groups to begin chemistry exploration readings. While you ushered Sicheng, Eunwoo, Sana, and a couple of the key supporting cast members onto stage, everyone else hopped down and scattered into the nosebleeds so they could get to know their fellow cast members more intimately.

You stood in the second row of the audience in the smack middle, one arm crossed over your stomach and the other propping your script up for yourself. Younghoon settled on one of the seats next to you, a small smile appearing onto his face as he folded his leg over the other. "Why hello Miss Director."

You hummed good-naturedly. "Why hello Mister Groom. Not up to saying hello to your fellow cast members yet?" Usually he was good about introducing himself to everyone; he was quite the charmer.

"I told the lovebirds I would pay attention to their chemistry reading for pointers," he grinned, eyes sparkling beneath the dim lights. "Kai's nervous about it."

"Ah," you voiced, glancing back to the stage where Eunwoo and Sana began interacting with Sicheng and the others on stage. "Awful nice of you, Ryan. Where's your darling bride?"

He gave you a show of wistful glance as he turned his eyes toward the ceiling and propped his cheek against his fist. "My beloved? Well, she is working her magic for the wedding. I told her—" he leaned forward onto his knees then, gesturing with his hands, "—I told her, darling! This is your special day. Anything you want is what I want. You should have seen the smile on her face—a daisy in bloom, Miss Ln.”

An amused expression fixed upon your face, you tipped your imaginary hat to him. “I think you should go find your bride, sir, before her plans get out of hand.”

“Her plans could never get out of hand,” he dismissed with the flick of his wrist.

“So you’re a Yes Man now?” You replied, your brain racking for the one part in the script you had written with this exact dialogue.

You saw the recognition flicker in Younghoon’s eyes. “That’s what love does to you, my friend. It’s not the same as those tally marks you always draw in that notebook,” he replied swiftly, gesturing to your script like it was the notebook that Kai was supposed to keep. “Say, you’ve never told me what those were for.”

Pleased, you arched an eyebrow. “That’s not the line, Hoon.”

You saw the moment he snapped out of character. He smiled, the kind of Younghoon trademark everyone could recognize and become spellbound by. “I don’t have the entire script memorized yet, Yn-ie.”

“I bet you have at least half of it memorized.”

He opened his mouth to remark something when someone hollered, “Oy” from the stage. Both you and Younghoon turned your attention to Eunwoo, who had captured both of your attention. He threw his arms open wide with a teasing grin. “Ryan, you’re supposed to be watching my back, man!”

Sana shot him a scowl. “Hey, if you get a second in this duel, then I get one, too. Lily!”

“As much fun as dueling you and winning would be, Alex, I’m not stuck in ye old days—”

“Your savior has arrived!” Everyone’s heads whirled in the direction of the doors at the back of the auditorium. There was a good handful of people who began filing in through the doors, with a very familiar blond at the helm of all the madness. Reminiscent of that one fiery Elmo meme, your best friend had his arms raised with an ear-splitting grin on his face.

Kevin Moon, one of the people amongst the masses, rolled his eyes as he passed Hyunjae to enter the auditorium. “They’re rehearsing, man.”

Choi Chanhee was swift to follow his friend. “Yeah, Hyunjae,” he teased with a grin.

You fixed your friend with a confused look. “Uhm… Hyunjae, what’s happening?”

Hyunjae jogged down to where you were, leaving his army of… people? behind. “You said you needed volunteers to help you prepare set pieces, right? Well, I told you I’d recruit some people and—” He made a wide, sweeping gesture toward the large group of people now simply crowded at the back of the room, awaiting instructions. Kevin and Chanhee sent you boyish smiles as they waved in greeting. “—I did!”

The lightbulb went off in your head. You couldn’t believe you forgot. “Oh, my god. You actually listened.”

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. “Hurtful.”

Younghoon laid his head against his arms over the back of his seat with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “Aw, how romantic.”

Hyunjae pointed to his lanky actor friend. “Is he in character?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Your head shot over to Younghoon just as his eyes met yours. The man shrugged with feigned innocence, standing up to greet Chanhee and Kevin as the other two began slowly leading the army of volunteers down to where you all were setting up. You wondered how on Earth that man’s partner could stand his impish antics.

Hyunjae slipped into the row with you with a wince. “Aish, I can never figure out when he’s in proper character or not.”

“He is,” you blurted. You knew for a fact that Younghoon hadn’t been in character, but Hyunjae didn’t need to know that. Ignorance was bliss, after all. “But that’s besides the point—Jaehyun—”

He flashed you a smile, bringing his hands up to make a jazz hands gesture. “Uh oh, that’s my name-name. I either did really well or screwed up big time.”

You laughed, pressing your free hand to your forehead. “You did really well—”

“Yes!” He cheered while punching the sky. He laughed, bumbling over to you with arms open wide to embrace you. You simply could not escape him. “You’re welcome.”

You lightly punched his chest. “I never said thank you. But thank you. I appreciate it a lot.”

He let you go, lightly patting your head. A warm wave of energy made your nerves feel fuzzy at their synapses. “You don’t have to thank me for doing this for you. By the way, YH!Yn is on her way over; she’s just coming back from her internship.”

Younghoon suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared in the row again. “I heard YH!Yn’s name,” he chirped with a smile that looked like a heart. He waved his phone screen around, as if you could actually read what was on his screen, “Yeah, she said she’s on her way now.”

You nearly melted. “Oh, really? She doesn’t have to if she’s uncomfortable, Hoon. I know big crowds make her anxious—”

“Ah, it’s all good,” he said. “She’s happy to do it, really. It’s not that big of a crowd here, and you’re her friend, Yn. She wants to help out.”

“Speaking of more friends helping out—” cut in Kevin with Chanhee in tow (where did all of them pop up from, goodness), “—Cobie just texted that he, Sangyeon, Juyeon, and JC!Yn are all on their way, too. What’s the plan for all the set pieces then, Yn?”

All eyes went to you, and you felt your heart swell with love, pride—quite literally every happy emotion there was. This whole project had plagued your every waking and unconscious thought for months now. The pressure for this production to be good… there were too many people watching you now. But as you led your friends and your supposed army of volunteers to the backstage area, you felt like there was no way you could fail.

Right?

— ✶

You were cleaning up for the night. Your throat ached and exhaustion wore at your bones from the very extensive day you and everyone else had. Almost the entire cast and volunteer and tech crew members had cleared out by now—your friends had all decided to get dinner together, and you would all head over once you had finished with your business here.

You hiked the strap of your bag over your shoulder with a haggard sigh as you passed beneath the ghost light hanging backstage that signaled that Jihoon was practically done for the night. You caught a glimpse of the man hustling down the corridor and you called out to him.

“Hey, Jihoon-ah! I was hoping I could catch you on your way out.”

Jihoon glanced up from his phone, his slight smile illuminated in the pale blue-light of his phone screen. “Ah, hey, Yn-ie. Good first rehearsal today?”

You fell into step with him as you both maneuvered the dark backstage corridors together. “Yeah, actually. I’m very proud of everyone’s progress so far. I was so stressed about being a couple weeks behind, but… I’m lucky I have such a good group of people here.”

He hummed, nodding. “Definitely. That one—your Hyunjae—”

Your heart stumbled. “Hyunjae? What about him?”

“It’s nothing, but I thought I should mention that I heard a couple girls gossiping earlier—”

You nearly stopped in your tracks, and you felt something crawl beneath your skin. “What’d they say?”

Jihoon glanced over at you, maybe a bit surprised at how sharp your tone was, but he continued on smoothly, “You know that I don’t like involving myself in that petty drama, right? But they were volunteering with the set pieces and stuff, and they were talking shit about him. The usual, like, cocky, arrogant bullshit. Something about wondering how you put up with him all the time.”

You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. “Jesus,” you swore. “Who were they? I’ll deal with them—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said to you, firmly but not unkindly. The two of you had stopped in the middle of the corridor now, your voices hushed yet harsh still. “Hey, Yn—I took care of it. I don’t tolerate that shit in my theater, you hear? You have a lot on your plate, so I didn’t want you to worry, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”

Breathe, Yn. Your eyes shuddered for a moment. Hyunjae wasn’t always as well-mannered around other people as he was around you and his friends. He was like that for good reason—there were some things in one’s past that shaped who you would become, and unfortunately, that was one thing that you hadn’t been able to protect him from back then. So hearing something like this? You felt awful.

You finally gave Jihoon a nod. “Right, yeah… thanks Jihoon. Really.”

He nodded back. “Of course. Does that happen often?”

You rubbed the place between your eyes where an ache had formed. “No—I mean, he’s just got a front he puts on, but it’s not often. Maybe those girls just witnessed him on one of his bad days. He—” You shook your head.

“I get it; no need to explain it to me,” Jihoon murmured. He gently guided you toward the door out into the main auditorium where Hyunjae said he’d be waiting for you. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know. He’s great.” I love him.

When the two of you emerged into the darkened auditorium, the only light present was the one from Hyunjae’s phone. Your best friend glanced up from his screen, pocketing it away as he stood up to meet you. “Hey, everything okay?”

You and Jihoon exchanged glances. You met Hyunjae’s eyes, your smile small. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

EPISODE THREE: WE’RE ALL JUST TRYING TO KEEP THE STAGE LIGHTS ON

IT was Monday evening when you determined that you had reached the point in time where everything would only escalate from here. There was something about seeing the backstage crowded with techies that made everything seem ten times more real. Your day had begun an hour or two earlier than the actors’ as you came in to meet Jihoon and Bang Chan about set pieces and creative direction. When your actors had come in, rehearsal commenced by working through the first act of the script and creating a deeper understanding of motivations and purpose.

On Saturday, along with the chemistry explorations, there was also a moment where you had to sit everyone down and give them a better understanding of what this project even came from. (There was a real inspiration to the story, but there was no way you could expose yourself like that, especially in front of Hyunjae.) There had been yet another run through of the script, with some of your actors switching up the way they played their parts just slightly. That same experimentation would continue today.

You were in the box with Chan and a couple of his underclassmen peers as the few of you were discussing the matter of spotlights and the like. It was early in the rehearsal process, but it definitely killed to be early.

You heard a slight commotion as the doors at the back of the auditorium opened.

“You got it covered in here?” You asked Chan, already one foot out of the tech box.

Chan flashed you a dimpled smile and a thumb’s up, and you were on your way out and toward the sounds of newcomers. You could already make out the figures of your friends Park Jihyo and Wen Junhui from where you were running up to them.

“YN!” Jihyo squealed as she rushed to come bury you in a hug.

“Oh my god, thanks for coming, you guys,” you gushed, crushing yourself to her.

Jun scurried over, wrapping his limbs around the two of you, as well. The two of them had quite literally insisted on coming to this rehearsal as your sanity check, which you deeply appreciated. Well that, and the fact that Jihyo was helping you manage the finances for this project, as well as any sponsors who came through to support the play. You had never been good with that stuff, but luckily, your econ-business-major friend was. (Jun was always there for moral support; him being versed in acting also helped, too, with directing when you couldn’t.)

The three of you immediately got to work, and you were finally able to return to your own actors as the lot of you worked through the first couple of scenes of act one.

“What do you suggest we talk about?” Eunwoo asked from stage left where he and Younghoon lingered with their scripts in hand. They were standing opposite the stage from Miyeon and Sana, who were supposed to walk onto the stage from the right like walking into a restaurant. The main focus of the scene was supposed to be Miyeon and Sana, but because Younghoon and Eunwoo were still onstage, they had to act like they were actually doing something even if their microphones wouldn’t be activated.

Younghoon gave a shrug and an easygoing smile. “What do you think Kai and Ryan talk about?”

“Kai feels like the kind of pompous jerk who speaks only in Ralph Waldo Emerson and Sylvia Plath.”

“That could be an interesting dynamic,” Jun chimed in.

You lifted a shoulder in agreement. “I say ‘yes’. Let’s just see what this looks like—Eunwoo, play that; Younghoon, play the exact opposite.”

Younghoon sputtered a laugh, but he saluted, understanding your directions (somehow… it was probably because you had worked with him for a long time over the course of both of your academic careers). “Aye-aye.”

You made a waving motion toward stage right where Miyeon and Sana were poking their heads out from behind the curtains. “Ready? Action.”

It turned out that the overly smart version of Kai was not what the scene needed. After a couple of new directions to Eunwoo about this little thing, you eventually settled on a nice in-between that reminded you awfully of a certain someone…

Lo and behold, you heard the doors at the back of the auditorium open up once more. You didn’t turn your attention away from the scene playing out before you, but you had an inkling of who had entered the sphere of the dramatic.

It wasn’t until the brunch scene had finished, you pursed your lips, nodding. “I like that.”

“I like it, too,” Jihyo said, paired with a nod from Jun.

You flipped through your script, asking for the actors taking part in the next scene—the bar scene—to come to the stage. “Uhm, let’s see… I need all of the main cast, barring Kai and Alex, to the stage. I also need Bartender 1 to come out, as well.” You waved your hand around toward the middle of the stage. “Make a little cult circle or something—yes, Younghoon, you have to stand next to Miyeon, silly goose.”

It was now that you finally turned around to confirm your prediction of who had joined the crowd. Just a few rows up from where you and your friends were sat three eager faces. Presently, it was Hyunjae, Eric, and his girlfriend, the former of which greeted you by raising up what looked like an iced caramel macchiato. God bless.

You hustled up to where they were, making grabby hands at the frost drink. “Thank you,” you sighed, accepting the drink and straw from him.

“Aye! Hyunjae!” Younghoon hollered from the stage. “Where’s my drink?”

Hyunjae cupped his hands around his mouth. “The kid has it!”

“I’m not a kid,” Eric sulked as he attempted to cross his arms over his chest while also not spilling the iced americano he was in possession of.

“That’s right!” EC!Yn mused, then added, “You’re my baby.”

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose at the lovey-dovey young lovers. “Oh, now that was awful, EC!Yn,” he groaned. He nudged your elbow from where you stood next to his seat. “Wasn’t that gross?”

Your brain was filled with caramel and caffeine. “Leave them be, Jae. At least they have someone to be gross with.”

Hyunjae mocked a face of offense, and Eric and his girlfriend slipped past you two in youthful giggles to go deliver Younghoon’s drink to him down at the bottom stage. When the two of you were left alone, Hyunjae pressed his cheek against his fist as he peered up at you. “How’s today been so far?”

You finished your sip, swallowing down the sugary, caffeinated goodness. “It’s been alright so far. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well,” he sighed, “I knew you were probably going hours without water, so I thought I’d at least bring you something pleasant.”

You sat down on the floor beside his aisle seat, silently offering him a sip of the drink he had treated you to. “You know me too well. And what do you mean? You did bring me something pleasant.”

Hyunjae took a ginger sip of the drink then pushed the cup back toward you. He grinned, flipping a lock of imaginary hair behind his shoulder. “Ah, you mean me—”

“I meant the kids,” you teased as you smiled around your straw with a look that was hardly innocent.

He deadpanned at you. “Never letting my head stay in the clouds ever, huh, Miss Ln?”

“Someone has to keep you humble.”

A soft laugh fell from his lips as he shook his head, then pressed his lips to his knuckles. “Well I guess if it's gotta be anybody, it should be you. Then again, that Chanhee keeps me on my toes, too."

"Weren't you the one who said he had no ass first?"

He let out a snort. "I only speak the truth."

"That you do," you agreed.

Hyunjae flicked his phone screen on for a second to catch the time and grunted. "Ugh, I have to go meet with my group members for a project in Public Infrastructure."

Your lips curled downward. "It's literally the first day of the quarter—you have a project already?"

He huffed sharply out of his mouth, sending one of his longer bits of bangs flying upward. "That's what I'm saying. Professor is insane this quarter, especially for putting me in this group. He said he picked our groups for us because we 'don't always get to choose in the real world'." He made a face. "Somebody has hurt that man, and we are paying for it. Pretty sure the people in my group don't even like me."

Your chest ached at that, and you leaned your chin onto his arm rest while he settled his head against the back of his chair. "I'm sorry, Jae. I know group projects are hard with strangers, but maybe they'll be cool with you? Are you just a little anxious maybe?"

"Dunno," he mumbled, picking at a stray thread on the red seat. He raked a hand through his hair, shifting. "I'm just dreading it, I guess. I just have that feeling y'know?"

"Yeah, I get that." You bumped your hand against his, mustering up an encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, Jae. I believe in you."

Hyunjae collected himself enough to smile back. "I can always count on you, Yn."

"Of course," you said, as easy as breathing air. You exhaled, "What are best friends for?"

— ✶

You found yourself seated in the darkness of the auditorium seats, the ghost light of the stage your only company. The ghost light was a single bulb that hung from mid stage in order to prevent any mishaps or accidents from happening when one had to stumble about in the darkness of the theater. It was a single part of theater superstition, as well as a sign that Jihoon and Chan had gone on their way for the night, leaving you to lock up. You'd been given charge of empty theaters before, and frankly, the peace and quiet was something you needed.

The time was nearing nine o'clock though, and your stomach growled at the thought of going back to your warm townhouse shelter for some pity ramen.

You finally shut the lid of your laptop, slipping it into your bag so you could stretch your aching limbs. You popped a couple joints as you did, then reached for your drained cup of iced caramel macchiato.

The rest of rehearsal had gone reasonably well. You were making progress, and that was the important part. Eric and his girlfriend had left a little before Hyunjae had in order to go get dinner together. Hyunjae had understandably been reluctant to leave, but he basically convinced you to let him call you while he made his way over to his project meet up location. You were directing as he did, but he didn't seem to mind and listened quietly with the occasional humorous comment.

You hoped he was doing okay.

Just as you slung your bag over your shoulder, typing out a fast text to Hyunjae to ask about how it went, your ears picked up the faint sound of creaking wood.

You froze, your head whipping around the very empty theater for the sound.

You heard it again—it was the slow, haunting creeeak, like someone was taking a deliberately drawn-out step. The hand around your phone tightened as you turned your gaze to the stage. The ghost light hung eerily in the now-quiet hall, its amber light creating a circle of light beneath it like a beacon for creatures of the night.

Creeeak… creeeak…

"Jihoon?" You called out. "Chan? Is that you?"

The creaking stopped; a shiver crawled down your spine.

"Is someone there?"

When you were met with silence, you pressed a hand to your forehead, speed-walking up the aisle of the theater and out into the lobby. Swiftly locking all the doors behind you as you made your exit, you figured you were probably just hearing things.

As you deposited your empty cup into the trash bin just outside the theater doors, you received a reply from Hyunjae. The performance hall door thunked closed after you twisted the lock mechanism into place.

With no more than a glance at the dark windows, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the bus stop.

EPISODE FOUR: IT'S ALWAYS THE DARK AND STORMY NIGHTS

FRIDAY night brought an onslaught of the sky's wrath in the form of a storm. Rehearsal had progressed decently, and while you did appreciate how hard everyone was working, you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t rush the process if you wanted a phenomenal end product. You just needed to have faith in the people you were working with.

Nearly everyone had gone home by now, barring yourself, Jihoon, Chan, and a couple of undergrads they were keeping around to show them the ropes. You were in the backstage area packing up your things to head out for the night. You could hear the voices of your peers echoing slightly through the bowels of the theater, but none of them were too near to your location.

The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood up as you reached for a page of script cues that one of the techies had left behind on a stool.

You straightened, your eyes scanning the backstage area. All the lights were on tonight since Jihoon and Chan were still here. The ghost light was not your only companion tonight, and yet…

There had been a feeling creeping up on you this past week… something unsettling like you were being watched. Perhaps it wasn’t you specifically being watched—it was more so that you were never truly alone when you knew no one else was here with you. There was something bothering you about the shadows of the theater lately, and they had almost never been anything but comforting.

You had to visibly suppress your soul from jumping out of your skin when you heard that goddamn wooden creaking sound.

“Yn-ie?”

Your heart did about five cartwheels and a barrel leap as you whirled around to find Chan coming in from the other side of the curtain. He noticed your jumpiness and concern fell over his features. “Hey, you good?”

You usually weren’t so much of a scaredy cat, dear god. You let out a laugh, though it sounded more nervous than you liked. “Yeah—no, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little antsy, is all.” Yeah, that’s it. You slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder and walked over to Chan to bump fists with him in greeting. “You and the others wrapping up?”

Chan’s eyes swept over you and his mouth quirked into an expression that told you he didn’t believe your “I’m fine” bit at all. But he was never one to pry where he believed to be crossing a line. “Not really, actually,” he sighed, cupping the back of his neck above the headset hanging there, as the two of you moved back into the main auditorium together. “We just realized that some of the speakers have been left on for the past week. They seem to keep coming on even though we turn them off; just outdated tech, I guess. But we’re trying to see if we can fix them before considering getting new ones.”

The hammering in your heart subsided for a moment as your brows pinched together and your brain switched into work-mode. “Really? Okay, well, let me know if I can do anything to help—that is weird.”

You eventually said goodnight to everyone left in the performing arts hall as you let yourself out through the front doors. The rain seemed to have subsided from earlier, and the night was left with dark cumulus clouds looming above your head, and rain-soaked streets that smelled heavily of metal and petrichor. A cold, biting wind swept past your face and nipped at your extremities as you pulled your jacket around you tighter.

The walk to the bus stop wasn’t an awfully long one, but…

You stopped.

You swore you just heard a clattering sound from just behind you. Your attention went to a collection of trash cans sitting only a few meters behind you. When no animal revealed itself to be the source of the noise, you clutched your small canister of mace into your fist.

A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, and you turned on your heel to start walking faster toward the bus stop.

There weren’t many street lights posted in this area of campus, but if you could just get—

“YN!”

You nearly screamed when someone grabbed you by the shoulder, and you lifted the can of mace up in between you and the person.

“Shit, Yn. It’s just me!” Hyunjae slapped his palm over yours and shoved the nozzle of the mace can down and out of his vision. He wrestled your body to a stop, anchoring you to reality. “Holy shit, honey. Shhh, calm down. It’s just me.”

You furiously inhaled and exhaled, your chest rising and falling as you pressed a hand to your sternum. “Lee Hyunjae, what is wrong with you?” You growled. Had it been him this whole time?

Hyunjae dared a cheeky smile. “Well, I just saw you from down the street and I thought you saw me, but you kept walking. I guessed you were just in your head tonight, so I thought it’d be fun to surprise you.”

“You don’t grab a girl in the middle of a darkened, abandoned street and yell in her ear to surprise her.” Your eyes were hard as you reprimanded him; he was your best friend, yes, but you nearly had a heart attack right then. Your nerves were so on-edge that you just couldn’t joke with him at this moment.

He winced then. “Ah, when you put it like that…” He pressed his lips together, eyes taking in your tense form. There was something else in your face other than annoyance at his stupidity—something that troubled him. His voice grew soft, his touch even softer, as his hand cupped the back of your shoulder in a warm hold. “Hey, everything okay? I’m really sorry for doing that; it was stupid of me.”

You huffed a sigh and avoided his eyes. “This isn’t the first time I thought someone was watching me,” you confessed lowly, so not even the wind could hear you.

Hyunjae’s eyes widened when you said that, and he was swift to wrap an arm around your shoulders and gather you against him. His gaze surveyed your surroundings and the shadows seemed to dance in his view; his breath hitched. “Let’s get you home,” he murmured then, “I’m parked nearby.”

EPISODE FIVE: THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

THE next day, Jihyo, Jun, Jacob, and Kevin were seated deep into the nosebleeds within the dim areas of the theater. Straight ahead, you and Hyunjae stood in the first few rows of seats as the actors were doing a run-through of the first act of the play. Hyunjae simply sat in the seat next to you, but you were doing your director thing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary at all to see you two so close, but something had shifted overnight from the last time all of them had seen you and he interact.

“Remind me again why you guys are here so early?” Jihyo’s question was directed toward Jacob and Kevin as she sipped on her morning cup of coffee. Everyone in the row was armed with their own cup of caffeinated brew, too; that was simply what being awake at nine on a Saturday morning called for.

Kevin peered at the other two from around Jacob. “His girlfriend and Chanhee are grocery shopping.”

Jun snorted. “Are they roommates? Why’s Chanhee grocery shopping with JC!Yn? Sounds a bit random.”

“They’re with her roommate and Changmin, too,” Jacob replied with a joking roll of his eyes. “Kevin’s just petty that they’ve never thought to extend the invitation to us.”

“Hey! You always hint at wanting to join them, too. It’s not just me, good sir.”

“I asked once, and when she said no, I never asked again—”

“—he’d only say that because he’s been scorned by love,” Younghoon lamented from the stage, his arm braced along the back of Miyeon’s folding chair. Props were still being finalized between a couple options, but Jun had found a bunch of folding chairs in a closet that you could use for the bar scene. Everyone’s attention moved away from invitation-less friends to friends playing pretend. He made a dramatic gesture, clutching his heart, then straightening with a laugh as he teased his friend who wasn’t in the scene. “I still think it’s stupid that he and Alex never worked out.”

Eunbi’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline as her hand, holding a water bottle that would later be replaced with a drink glass, froze in mid-air. “I’m sorry? This is news to me. Since when did Kai and Alex even have a chance at ‘working out’?”

Miyeon let out a delighted gasp. “Oh, where to begin?”

Yerin piped in with a lazier gesture with her water bottle. “They weren’t always sworn enemies, y'know. Once upon a time, the ‘lovebirds’ were actually lovebirds,” she chuckled at her own joke—or, her character’s joke.

Younghoon explained, "Their parents pretty much pitted them against each other since the end of middle school. They used to be friends, actually, and they were top of their class in practically everything. Except…"

"Academic League?" Eunbi guessed with her brows twisted. "I remember hearing about something like that."

"Yeah, I mean," Miyeon added, "something happened in junior year and it's been like that since."

"What happened in junior year?—"

Jihyo watched the performance with narrowed eyes, her body leaned forward onto her knees. "This sounds awfully familiar."

The three boys turned their heads her way. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head, eyes fluttering. She made a face and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly like what I'm… Jun, you remember when Yn told us about—you know?"

"That she almost confessed to Hyunjae? Ow! I'm sorry!" Jun yelped as Jihyo slapped his shoulder, hard.

Jacob and Kevin exchanged wide-eyed glances. "She almost confessed to Hyunjae? When?"

Jihyo sent Jun another hard glare, to which he sheepishly raised his hands in surrender, before replying, "Yn said offhandedly once that in junior year of high school, she was almost going to confess her feelings to Hyunjae, but then suddenly decided not to."

Kevin leaned his chin onto his fist. "Huh…"

"I don't know how I didn't even notice this before when I read through the script," Jihyo thought aloud. "Alex and Kai are Yn and Hyunjae—just…with a different ending."

All four heads turned to face forward once more, except, their attention zeroed in on you and Hyunjae. YH!Yn had appeared beside you, most likely updating you on the progress of the massive prop project she was working on for the play. You listened to her report intently as Hyunjae sat next to you, his head leaned onto your shoulder as he played some game on his phone. It was far too soft, far too—there was no way you based this all off of your own experience with Hyunjae, right?

In fact, it was possible.

As YH!Yn let you know that she would have to buy a few more PVC pipes from the hardware store, you assured her that she would be reimbursed for those expenses.

“—I know how busy you are—”

YH!Yn smiled sweetly as she cut you off, “Oh, no worries at all! I’m happy to help, as Hoon said before. Plus, this is a lot more fun than my internship; feels like a little creative project I get to nerd out on.”

You grinned at that sentiment. “Ah, I totally get that. Well, I won’t keep you from it any longer. Thanks again.”

YH!Yn gave a brief goodbye, then stood up to head back out to the backstage area where she was putting together the portable fountain she was building (you had given her a list of possible “show-stopping” prop ideas you had and she had picked the fountain). As she left, you watched as she passed by the bottom stage to catch Younghoon’s hand. Something like yearning ached in your chest. One day…

The mass weighing on your opposite shoulder stirred as he let out a noise of surprise. “Huh?”

You glanced over at him as best you could, then flashed Younghoon a thumb’s up to signal him that you were paying attention now. “Huh what?”

Hyunjae sat up straight, his nose scrunched, eyes pinned to his phone screen. “Didn’t you have a friend named Ellie in like, high school?”

Your lips curled into a slight frown at the name; it definitely rang a bell. “I did, what about her?” You asked. The sounds of the dialogue happening on stage faded to glorified background noise as you leaned over to peer at Hyunjae’s phone screen. There, he had a new text thread pulled up with an unknown number introducing herself as Ellie, a “classmate of his from high school”. Not only were you frowning, but your forehead creased, too. It had been ages since you had last been in contact with her. The two of you had been the best of friends before you drifted apart.

To be honest, you had no idea how the two of you drifted apart so easily when you’d been so close to her, but you ended up getting closer to Hyunjae anyway. You chalked it up to differences in interests, but maybe now you could get some answers. Well, that was depending on why she was texting Hyunjae.

“She texted me,” he said, holding the screen between you two. “Recognize the number?”

You could barely remember your own number. Shaking your head, you lifted your gaze back up to the stage where your actors had already moved through most of the scene. “Nope. Might be a new one since it’s been so long. Wonder how she got your phone number.”

Hyunjae blew out a puff of air as he laughed—you saw him begin to type out a response from the corner of your eye. “How do people not get my number at this point,” he grumbled under his breath.

— ✶

It wasn’t until you were seated in the booth of Junhui’s favorite Chinese restaurant on the Ave that he and Jihyo ambushed you with The Question™.

“So when were you going to tell us that the play was about you and Hyunjae?”

Your movements paused, then resumed so you could properly settle into your seat. "At least let me order first."

To their credit, your friends withheld from further questioning until the waiter had come by to take the table's order. When she had gone and was out of earshot, Jihyo pounced, whipping her head over to you and placing a hand on the table between you. You realized suddenly that you were trapped between her and the wall.

"Spill."

Your eyes widened a smidge, intimidated. "How did you guys figure it out? I mean, it's not that obvious, is it?"

Jun shook his head. "Nah, not really. Ji was just on five shots of espresso this morning apparently."

Jihyo sent him a pointed look. "I was not on five shots of espresso…" She murmured, "It was two."

"Okay, five shots, two shots—" Jihyo flapped her hands around as she angled her body toward you. "It was the bar scene and they were all talking about Alex and Kai. And I thought that the bit about junior year sounded really familiar."

"I can't believe you didn't confess to him back then," Jun feigned a disproving shake of his head while clicking his tongue.

You leaned your face against the palm of your hand with an unpretty fwump. "Guys, the play is basically centered around the idea: what if I had confessed to Hyunjae and it went wrong?"

"Just ten times more dramatic," Jun pointed out.

"And," Jihyo added, "their roles are switched. Kai's the one who confesses to Alex in the play, and it's Alex's ex who makes a grand showing at the wedding festivities to cause trouble. Yn doesn't have an ex."

"Uncalled for," you grunted.

Jihyo gave a charmingly beautiful smile that could make all the world fall at her feet. "You love me."

"You're lucky you're cute."

Jun sipped on his water. "I'm right here."

You and Jihyo bursted into giggles, the sound like twinkling bells. Jun sighed softly, but you saw the corners of his lips lift up into a small smile. For a moment, you had forgotten what the topic of this conversation was.

You sobered slightly, your hands reaching for your water glass to take a gulp, then nurse it between your palms. "Have you ever heard the saying that we always try to recreate our first heartbreak in order to rewrite how it ends?"

Jihyo and Jun quieted. They peered at you with eyes that could peer straight into your soul if you let them. That was why you couldn't exactly meet their eyes as you tried to articulate your thoughts behind writing this whole mess. "I mean," you pursed your lips, "it wasn't a heartbreak; it was never a heartbreak. My heart hadn't been broken because how could it be broken if I never even let it. You know?"

"That's not how a lot of hearts are broken, Yn," Jun murmured with a sincere depth to his dark brown eyes. There was something so soulful about them. "Most are broken in silence."

You huffed slightly. "That was a great line."

"I know—"

"Ahem," Jihyo said, reigning the both of you drama geeks back into the realm of real talk. She leaned over to wrap her arms around you, her head resting on top of your own. "So you wrote this… to conquer your fears? To comprehend your feelings?"

"To imagine, to wish, to dream," you added. It was quite sad, really. You couldn't quite think of writing anything else when the time had come to start drafting your thesis. "We write what we know best."

"I thought Hyunjae was basically there throughout this whole process," Jun said, his elbows resting on top of the table as he gestured vaguely. "How has he not figured out that Alex is him?"

You gave a shrug. You couldn't imagine how he hadn't yet figured it out, but it wasn't exactly the most obvious thing. You would soon rather go missing than Hyunjae ever figuring out the truth behind the play's inspiration. Whenever he asked you, it was always "I was so inspired by Kenneth Branuagh and Emma Thompson's rendition of the play" and "I wanted to spice up an old, timeless play and give it a kick of Today". He believed that you were writing a play based solely upon the themes of childhood manipulation, academic pressure, and miscommunication. And you were—just not only those things.

Your thesis would have never been accepted if you'd only presented a skeleton of a play about your nonexistent love life. All of the additions and embellishments to the story had come easy as you pieced together the plotline. But the two main characters had never changed.

With that now settled, the food arrived at your table. (What a brilliantly timed, cosmic coincidence!) You and your friends thought it best to move onto other topics of conversation. Somehow, you had reached the topic of your recent week of weird feelings. Not just about Hyunjae, but about the strange feeling of constantly not being alone. You'd even explained the entire debacle from last night, with Hyunjae scaring you then rushing you home.

Jihyo and Jun both replied appropriately: "Girl, what the fuck?"

You brushed it off with a nonchalance that was not convincing. (Then again, you were never an actress yourself.)

The rest of dinner progressed relatively smoothly, and when the check had come and gone, you wanted to offer a mint to your friends.

"—shit," you swore as you dug around in your bag. When your hand came up empty-handed, you brushed that same hand through your hair. "I left my Altoids in the theater."

Jihyo finished signing her bill, tucking her card away. "Oh? Well, let's go get them."

Jun bobbed his head as he shouldered his coat on. "Yeah, it's no problem, Yn-ie."

"Really? You guys don't have to; they're just min—"

"Nonsense!" Jihyo chirped. She stood up and out of the booth, giving you the space to slip out after her. She then linked your arm with hers, then hooked her other with Jun's. "Power in numbers, my love."

You could do nothing but agree—wholeheartedly. The way your heart rate slowed when she insisted that she and Jun would accompany you showed just how grateful you were. You probably wouldn't have even gone to retrieve them tonight, but waited until Monday instead. They were just mints, after all, but you were appreciative nonetheless. Even for a small item, they would be by your side.

The journey back to the theater was a brief one as Jun drove the three of you back to the performing arts center and pulled into the space right by the stairs up to the hall. You recalled leaving them on one of the dressing room tables in the back corridors, so you used your student ID to buzz into the back hallway of the performing arts building.

You and your friends' voices hushed as you all crept into the dark, abandoned building. When the door closed behind you all, you turned your phone flashlight on to guide your way toward the dressing rooms.

"It should be in one of these rooms," you told your friends as you entered the hallway of doors. You located a familiar number and pushed into the room, swiftly retrieving the teal-colored metal box of minty sweets on the vanity table.

The door closed softly when you slipped out.

"Hey, how's YH!Yn's fountain project coming along?" Jun asked as the three of you began to make your way back toward the back door.

"Oh yeah!" Jihyo perked up. "How's that going? She's so badass for that."

"Isn't she?" You gushed. "Do you guys wanna see her progress?"

There was an obvious answer to that, and the three of you made a hard one hundred eighty degree turn, swerving back down the corridor from which you had just come from. Your conspiratorial giggles echoed within the rafters and bowels of the theater, as if you were pixies from A Midsummer Night's Dream, frolicking through the forest in which they dwelled.

When you reached the vicinity of the backstage area, your footsteps faltered.

It was still dark.

You frowned, slowly stepping into the backstage area.

"Yn? What's wrong?"

Jun said it before you could, "Huh. The ghost light's not on."

Indeed, the bulb that was supposed to be on when no light was, was pitch black. A cool breeze drifted down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck and your arms stand up.

"Could Jihoon or Chan have forgotten on their way out?"

"You know Jihoon's not one to forget."

You drifted away from your friends as you slowly stepped into the backstage area. Your flashlight shone toward the walls first as you aimed to make your way toward the lights panel. It would be an easy fix—

Your heart dropped clean into the pit of your stomach.

The light of your flashlight illuminated the absolute chaos.

Setting and backdrop pieces that had been painted by volunteers, articles of clothing collected for people's costumes, scripts left behind torn out of their staples—all of it was flung about and scattered over the backstage floor. It was like a tornado had swept through the area, and you knew your friends were seeing what you were seeing now.

You held your breath for so long you were pretty sure you were imagining the hands shaking you.

Somebody had come in and took their rage out on your play. But who, and more importantly, why?

EPISODE SIX: PHANTOM OF THE PERFORMING ARTS HALL

"WHAT'S up with the ghost light anyway?"

There was a group of you gathered by the stage of the performing arts hall, the house lights having been turned on after you'd made a call to Jihoon and campus security. Along with Jihoon and campus security, however, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Eric, and Younghoon had also appeared. You had shot Hyunjae a text about what had happened and he'd rushed over with his friends—you felt awful about pulling them away from whatever they were doing, but Hyunjae didn't say anything about it.

You sat on the edge of the stage next to Jihyo with Jun and Hyunjae standing by you both on the floor of the auditorium. Well, Hyunjae stood in front of you and you leaned your chin on top of his beanie-covered head while the lot of you waited for whatever security pulled up from the limited amount of cameras. Jihoon had disappeared somewhere to make a call—you would hear from him, too, soon.

The question had been posed by Juyeon, who sat next to Eric and Younghoon in the first row of nosebleeds.

Jun dragged a hand down the side of his face, then rubbed his mouth. "Ah, it's uhm, old theater superstition," he replied. "Usually, backstage crew leaves the ghost light on so anybody coming in doesn't trip on anything or accidentally get hurt or, y'know—break anything."

"It couldn't have just gone out because of the power then?" Hyunjae asked.

Younghoon shook his head. "Usually it runs on the same electricity that every other light runs on. I've never been in a theater where the ghost light just randomly goes out, and there weren't any power outages today either."

"The problem isn't even about the ghost light," you said. Everyone's eyes flickered over to you and Hyunjae. Hyunjae patted one of the legs you had on either side of his upper body as a means of consolation or comfort. "It's about the props and costumes. We're just lucky that they were just scattered and not properly damaged. We would've been set back another week at least."

Eric perked up. "Maybe it's the ghost of Shakespeare haunting the hall!"

A snort fell from your lips as you mused, "Shakespeare in the park?"

Hyunjae cleared his throat as he prepared his best rendition of the Iron Man line: "Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?"

As the two of you shared a giggle and fistbump, the other remaining members of your party sent you strange, confused looks.

Younghoon gave an eye roll. "Oh dear god, you two really are meant for each other."

You caught Jun and Jihyo whip their heads toward you, but before anything else could be said, Jihoon was hustling back into the auditorium from the lobby doors in the back. He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he jogged over to where all of you were gathered, those signature bags under his eyes prominently featured. Oh, you definitely felt terrible.

"What'd they say, Jihoon?" Jihyo asked first.

Jihoon tucked his hands into his pockets as he joined the loose cult circle. "Security found that the locks on the front of the hall were picked open, so they wouldn't have gotten a record of somebody's card being used. Cams picked up someone dressed in black, but they knew where the camera would have gotten a clear shot of them. But because there wasn't anything officially damaged, there isn't much legal action we can take."

Juyeon offered quietly, "Breaking and entering."

Jihoon gestured to him. "Right. Breaking and entering, but that's about it." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "It wasn't just a prank or whatever. At least, I don't think so. What do you think, Yn?"

You swallowed, straightening slightly. "I don't think so either. I mean, I don't think any drunk pranksters would go through the trouble of picking open a lock. Even a sober one."

"Maybe a spiteful classmate," Jun suggested with a meager shrug. "Some people are ruthless."

"If there isn't much we can do, or much security is willing to do," you muttered, "then we should call it a night. We just have to take pains to lock everything up every rehearsal now."

Jihoon nodded sharply. "Right. Pains, but necessary ones."

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Eric frowned. A murmur of agreement echoed from everyone else in the group.

You pursed your lips. "It's okay, I—it's not okay, obviously, but I'm glad no one's hard work was properly destroyed. That's all that matters." Even if your nerves were a little shaken. Who could have done this?

The remainder of your time spent in the theater was picking everything up and putting them in their rightful places. By the time the group of you had finished locking everything up, the night had slipped away into its proper depths. Everyone was ready to get the hell out of here and go home to their beds, and Jihoon was certain to show you the ghost light being turned and sustaining for at least a couple minutes before the two of you were the last out.

Juyeon, Eric, Younghoon, and Jihoon said their goodnights and goodbyes, already departing their separate ways to go home. You lifted your head up to find where Jihyo and Jun were waiting for you when you saw Hyunjae standing closer to the entryway of the hall. He gave you a sleepy smile, opening up his arms for you to walk right into.

"Tired?" He chuckled, the sound creating a soft vibration in his chest as you shoved your face into his pretty-smelling sweater.

"Mm," you grunted. "You didn't go home with Younghoon?"

"Nah. I wanna go home with you."

In any other context, in any other situation, that would have meant something completely different. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around his frame. With a nod, you screwed your eyes shut and swept away those wistful thoughts. "Okay, fine."

You didn't know why you kept doing this to yourself. But he was your best friend, and tonight was… a lot. A friendly sleepover was something you needed—at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

— ✶

Being the oh-so courteous guest he was (especially since he practically invited himself over), Hyunjae let you take the shower first. You shared a townhouse a bus ride away from the university campus with two others whom you knew from rooming with them your first year of college. You had lucked out with the random roommate assignments that year, and the three of you weren't the closest nor best of friends, but you found great housemates in each other, which was just as valuable.

You had your own room and ensuite up on the topmost floor, so you and Hyunjae had a bit of privacy and wouldn't bother your friends below. You had finished with your shower a bit ago, so you were settled on your bed, flipping through emails and ensuring no important ones had ended up in the spam folder.

When you heard the door open from the bathroom, you glanced up, but returned your gaze back to this one email about a sponsorship that needed to be added to the playbill later.

"I accidentally grabbed the wrong shirt."

You hummed in question as you quickly forwarded the email to Jihyo, then looked up. A laugh sputtered out of your mouth as you took in Hyunjae taking up the space of your doorway. He was in a pair of his own sweatpants that he often left here, but instead of one of his t-shirts, he must have accidentally grabbed one of your tops. It was a Hello Kitty one you'd found in the back of your closet awhile ago, and fit you pretty nicely, so it looked strained on Hyunjae.

You flopped onto the bed, rolling around in your own laughter. "Jae!—your tits don't fit in that, honey."

Hyunjae's mouth stretched into a grin, his tongue darting out for a second. His dirty blond hair, damp and curly, hung slightly in his eyes over his forehead. "Oh, shut up."

To your detriment (you deserved this, you really did), he then smiled (more like, smirked) as he casually lifted the top over his head.

Your eyes widened just as your entire body lit up on fire. "Hey, woah there! Dude!" You jokingly covered your eyes—your whole face—with your hands as he flicked the shirt off, straightened it out, then stalked over to your closet to swap tops.

Hyunjae rolled his eyes as he ripped another shirt from a hanger and came to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "You've seen me shirtless before, Yn. Calm down."

No. How could you just calm down—? It was nearly impossible when you saw the way the muscles in his back rippled as he yanked the new, white T-shirt over his head. With muted sadness, you watched as the toned muscle on his stomach disappeared beneath the fabric.

Damn.

"You're drooling."

Your eyes darted up to where he was grinning down at his phone screen now, only looking at you from his periphery where you were still lying on the bed.

You huffed, rising onto your knees and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day. But you subtly swiped your thumb across your lower lip to make sure you weren't actually drooling. This is your best friend, Yn; control yourself. "Loser."

"Child."

"Chicken."

"Weirdo."

"Nerd!" You shot back, making him laugh as you draped yourself over his back and tucked his head under your chin. His wet, cold hair tickled your skin, but it was a welcome sensation.

You peered down at his phone with him from your perch. "Who's that?" You asked as he opened up a new text notification from a new number.

You were scanning the message the sender had texted while Hyunjae huffed. "Another of your suitors, milady," he drawled sarcastically.

The message said something like "would she be interested?", the "she" referring to you.

Hyunjae typed out: In you? Probably not.

You let out a gasp, hitting him playfully on the (muscle of his) shoulder. "Hyunjae!"

He snickered, exiting out of the text chain, then deleting the number. "What? I'm just being honest. I feel like every dude who's interested in you goes through me to ask and it's so lame."

You absentmindedly watched as he opened up Instagram and started brainlessly doom-scrolling. "Maybe it's 'cause you've so clearly friendzoned me," you muttered incoherently under your breath.

"Huh? What was that?"

"Maybe it's 'cause they see you as the gatekeeper," you amended, leaving him to climb off your bed and step into the bathroom to prepare your toothbrush for use.

You could hear the incredulity in his voice. "Gatekeeper? Pfft, no way. They're all just cowards; they don't deserve you if they can't ask you out to your face." After a second, he added, "Hey, I don't gatekeep you!"

You made a face at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth. "Uh-huh."

"That's not reassuring, Yn-ie."

You poked your head out of the bathroom and made eye contact with where he had rearranged his position so he sat up against the headboard. "I was just agreeing with you," you teased, then retreated back into the bathroom to finish up your night routine.

"No, you weren't, you menace."

You flicked the lights in the bathroom and bedroom off and rolled onto the bed next to him. The two of you laid facing each other in the dark, your bodies kept to your own sides of the bed and blanket. You both were propped onto your sides, one arm tucked beneath your head.

"I don't gatekeep you," he said into the silence, his voice lowering to match the volume of darkness. He poked your cheek with a finger, as if he could stamp the declaration there.

You gave a small smile. "Okay, Jae." A thought suddenly occurred to you as you broke your stare-down to twist around and grab your phone from the nightstand to see if Jihyo and Jun had said something to the group chat. "Oh, by the way, did you ever figure out what Ellie wanted?"

Hyunjae shifted so he was on his back now, one hand still braced behind his head and the other resting on his stomach—but his eyes still watched you. "Something about a random high school project from senior year. She couldn't find the file for it and wanted to draw inspiration from it or something."

"I didn't know you had a project with her in senior year," you said offhandedly, shutting your phone off and replacing it onto the nightstand. You sighed, slipping further beneath the covers and closer to Hyunjae.

He drew you close, tucking you beneath his chin this time. "Yeah, it wasn't really important. Nothing to worry about."

"I wasn't worrying."

You could already feel yourself drifting off into dreamland, the exhaustion in your eyes making your eyelids close like valance curtains at the very front, lowering to mask the backstage magic from the audience. Except, the magic were your thoughts rocketing into the realm of the fictional. For a split second, you thought about somebody being in your position with your best friend one day. Would it hurt to think about then as much as it did now?

You couldn't exactly think about that future right now. Hyunjae, you liked to think, was far from letting anyone new into his carefully-maintained walls. He had been hurt by people before, and you'd be damned if you didn't protect him from that ever happening again.

You thought Hyunjae had fallen asleep until you felt his thumb brush against the back of your shoulder. "When have I ever friend-zoned you?"

Your heart stuttered in your chest for a moment, but it wasn't enough to wake you up completely. As you drifted off fully, you convinced yourself that you had imagined him saying that. You were both awfully tired, anyway.

EPISODE SEVEN: OH SHIT, WAS MY MIC ON?

TWO whirlwind weeks had flown by. You could hardly even soak in the moments of this last undergraduate project before it all began to blur together. The only ways you were able to properly tell time were crossing out calendar dates and—

“Oh my god, oh my god! Get it out, get it out!”

You, along with everyone present in the main auditorium of the performing arts hall, came to a screeching halt as a flurry of squeals erupted from somewhere deep backstage. You and the conductor of the pit orchestra exchanged concerned expressions before you were making a beeline for the fastest access point backstage. Younghoon and Eunwoo were swift to accompany you, and though you had a sinking feeling you knew what this was, you held your grimace for when you confirmed your suspicions.

Over the past couple of weeks, the feeling of being watched had not faded from the back of your mind. You tried to adjust rehearsal schedules so that they were a little earlier in the evening, but people had lives and you simply could not inconvenience them based on someone trying to scare you. Plus, with the spring season flying in swiftly, the sun retired a lot later, which gave you some peace of mind, at least.

But over that same time, the person meddling with your show had ceased to cease. One day it was sky blue fabric strewn all over the main stage; another day it was peacock feathers left in the projection box; there were cables missing from tech, headsets changed to radio channels. Somebody was clearly pulling out all the stops to ensure that this theater and production was full of old theater superstitions and bad luck, either to scare you or the people you were working with (or both), and frankly—it was working. To an extent.

You stormed into the back corridor of the performing arts hall, the supporting cast and tech crew all sprinkled about the hallway, anxiously watching you and your friends pass by them toward one of the larger dressing rooms.

“What is going on?” You demanded as you entered the dressing room. There was a small gathering of people gawking at something—the dressing room vanity mirror. The breath left your lungs at the sight.

The surface of the mirror was vandalized, the infamous word “Macbeth” scrawled all over its reflective plane in red lipstick. Some of the product had begun to melt from the heat of the lightbulbs around the mirror and dripped down the mirror like blood. It would have been a comical prank if this wasn’t a theater. You felt a stiff, cool breeze run across your skin.

Somebody was really trying to fuck you over, huh.

You shoved down a swallow. “Somebody get me some Windex,” you croaked. When nobody moved, you repeated yourself, forcing a bit more strength into your voice.

Chan appeared in the room, his own eyes pinned to the subject matter upon the mirror, as he handed you a bottle of Windex and an old rag.

You snatched it out of his hands with a “thank you”, then marched up to the mirror. With shaky hands, you began scrubbing away at the word written over and over on the mirror. You heard Chan corral everyone out of the dressing room and back to their original activities. All your senses had dulled by now, and you felt Younghoon gently pry the rag from your hands so he could reach the spaces that you couldn’t.

“Who is doing this?” You voiced to the now sparsely populated dressing room. You sat in one of the dressing room chairs with your hand pressed to your forehead with Younghoon, Chan, and Jihoon present. Eunwoo had gone out to calm people down, but you knew that this was going to draw a line for some people. It was a known superstition not to utter the name of the notorious Scottish Play in a theater, and it had just been named about a couple dozen times on the mirror behind you.

Your friends could offer no suggestions.

Your pride took an even bigger hit when you decided to cut the remainder of rehearsal for the day; you were certain there were at least a handful of people who were scandalized by what just happened.

“Are you okay, though?” Younghoon asked you for the third time as the two of you watched people leave the performing arts hall from the base of the nosebleeds. “I know that you’re not usually so… swayed by superstition.”

You could only give a stiff shrug. “I’m not,” you agreed, “but this is going to be the biggest project and production of my undergrad career. I don’t—I can’t take any chances.” You smoothed a hand over one half of your face. “God, I’m just tired, Hoon. I’m so stressed, and cutting rehearsal short today—we’re gonna be set back another day—”

“Hey,” he soothed, grasping you by the shoulders so you would look him in the eye. He offered a kind smile, “You’re doing great, Yn. I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under right now for this to go perfectly, but I think you have to have a little faith in all of us, including yourself. One rehearsal is not going to make a difference in the long run. We’ve got a lot of talented, hard-working people who will sleep this mishap off and come right back to make up for lost time.”

He squeezed your shoulder. “And whoever’s been doing this? They’ll get their due karma.”

You let his words soak into your brain. You needed this; you needed those words said to you. With a nod, you and Younghoon deigned to head out with everyone else. Jihoon and Chan were swift to shut the theater down for the evening, as well.

As you and Younghoon stepped out into the early evening, the sky still glowed a buttery yellow swirled in purpley-blue. There was another breeze wafting by, but instead of the chills you got before, it was slightly warmer and made you inhale deeply. The air out here made your lungs less constricted, you realized, and maybe you’d been stuck in that theater for too long lately. This would be good for you, as well as everyone else.

“I think me and some of the cast are gonna get together to go over some scenes at the grove,” said Younghoon as he peered down at his phone screen. “Wanna come with?”

You brushed a strand of hair from your face, a decision coming to surface. “Nah, I think I’m gonna take a walk. Get some fresh air.”

Younghoon passed you a brilliant-sort of smile that gleamed in the golden hour light. “Alrighty, director. Sounds good. Have a good night then, Yn-ie.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for today, Hoon.”

You and Younghoon parted ways there, and while he traveled down the stairs toward east campus, you traveled northward toward the quad. The quad, a place most known for the cherry blossom trees that bloomed in the early spring, was no doubt full of people taking late afternoon strolls in the temperate spring climate. It was the perfect environment for you to relax and let some of the stress and pressure fade from your pulsing temples.

There were no longer cherry blossom flowers blooming upon the dark branches, but healthy, dark green leaves. Even if they were shades of pink, they were still beautiful nonetheless.

After making a full loop around the quad lawn’s perimeter, you made a detour down one of the side pathways that were lined in trees that yawned toward its partner on the other side of the pathway. It was noticeably quieter and less populated here, and for once, you actually didn’t feel like you were being watched.

You were walking for only a few minutes in the serenity when you saw a pair of people standing in a clearing of trees just to your two o'clock. You stopped, a familiar blond haired best friend catching your eyes.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Was what you heard from Hyunjae, and you almost marched right up to them to defend him.

That was, until you saw the girl's face.

You hadn't recognized her at first because she had her back facing you and she had changed her hair. But it wasn't difficult to recognize your old friend, Ellie, the one who Hyunjae said had contacted her. Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. Why were they together right now? You thought Hyunjae had said weeks ago that she was just trying to get ahold of an old project they'd done together in high school.

Ellie placed her hands on her hips, her facial expression stony and unreadable. "Can you think rationally for a second and listen to me all the way through? That's what you agreed to when you said you'd meet me."

Huh?

You pressed your side against the nearest tree trunk, your heart thundering your eardrums.

When Hyunjae said nothing, Ellie continued, exhaling sharply, "Okay. As I was saying earlier, do you even know what the play's about? …No. Look at you; can't you see? You don't even know what it's really about."

"Of course, I know what it's about," Hyunjae sneered. "It's about how academic pressure and miscommunication can ruin relationships—"

Ellie laughed, the sound mirthful, and yet carried an air of malice that made your skin crawl. This wasn't the Ellie you remembered… "That's funny, oh my god! You really don't know what it's about."

"What are you going on about?"

"I think you should ask her," she said with a smile. You peered around the tree, feeling utterly stupid like one of those characters from a teen drama eavesdropping on their lover and their nemesis. "Ask her, Hyunjae. I'm sure she'll tell you what it's really about when you mention that I told you she st—"

"Yn?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Jihyo's voice from behind you. You quickly grabbed her and dragged her down behind the tree trunk next to you. When she sent you a look that told you she thought you were completely deranged, you pressed a finger to your lips.

She indulged you, thank god, and followed your lead as you crept around the tree trunk again.

"It's cute that you have so much trust in her," was what you heard Ellie say next.

Jihyo squinted as she tried to identify the girl. "Who the fuck…?"

You kept your eyes glued to the pair before you, but muttered to Jihyo quickly, "That's Ellie. Old friend of mine from high school, but we drifted apart. Haven't talked to her since."

"She and Hyunjae are friends?"

"No, I have no clue what's going on." Yet, your stomach twisted and churned and you felt bile crawl up the length of your throat.

A muscle feathered in Hyunjae's jaw, but he couldn't seem to get himself to say something.

Ellie looked upon him pitifully. "One day, she'll drop you, too—when she finds someone better. That's what she did to me, y'know? I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories."

You saw red.

This time, Jihyo had to grab a fist full of your shirt and yank you down next to her to prevent you from clawing Ellie's vocal chords clean out of her throat. Because you would have.

Anything—you would've done anything to never see the flash of shame, hurt, and anger across Hyunjae's face when she said that. It was like she'd slapped him, clean and hard. Your chest ached as you watched his hand tighten into a fist at his side.

"You don't know anything about me," he said icily.

And it was over all too soon. Ellie said something to Hyunjae, but it was too quiet to hear. When Ellie left her own way, Hyunjae stalked off in a different direction, leaving you and Jihyo where the two of you remained hunched behind the tree.

You made to get up, but Jihyo pulled you back down again. "Ji, I have to go make sure he's okay—"

"I know you do," she told you firmly while keeping you seated down next to her. "But you're not in the right headspace, and neither is he. You need to breathe, especially after today and whatever the hell that was."

When you sent her a questionable look, she explained, "I bumped into Sana on my way to the performing arts center and she told me what happened. Then Younghoon told me you went on a walk and I just tracked your phone to here."

Your jaw dropped. "You tracked my—"

"Shhh," she shushed you, pressing a finger against your lips. "That's besides the point! Are you okay, Yn? For real."

You leaned back onto your palms, a frown coming up to your lips. "Everyone keeps asking me that lately."

"It's a valid question."

That was fair, you supposed. You released a sigh. "I mean… not really? I'm just stressed, and I don't even know what to think or how to comprehend what we just witnessed." Your brain was buzzing with every one of Ellie's biting words. What had she meant by all of that? She sounded so bitter, so malicious… What had happened?

Jihyo pressed her lips together, sitting down properly onto the grass. "What was that? Did you and Ellie end on bad terms?"

Your brows creased together and you absentmindedly scratched your jaw. "No," you murmured. "Not that I remember. It was just like we drifted apart over time. At least, that's how I remember it. I dunno."

You blew out another breath of air. Ellie and you had both been really good at what you did—theater, writing, all of the works. You two were a dynamic duo; if people now claimed you were a prodigy, then Ellie was your twin. In a way, you could probably say that your characters from the play you wrote almost mimicked yours and Ellie's creative abilities and technical prowess, but just in different spheres. While the love story was based upon you and Hyunjae, the foundation had been from you and Ellie.

But it eventually faded, that friendship. You figured that was just how things worked, as unfortunate as it was. You both moved on, and you found Hyunjae.

You relayed all of this to Jihyo, your friend listening to your words intently.

"—but I've never carried any ill will toward her," you reiterated at the end of your spiel. "I truly haven't heard from her since and she hasn't reached out either. I don't know what could have caused her to tell Hyunjae all of that."

Jihyo pressed her mouth to her knuckles as a thoughtful frown graced her porcelain features. "Hm, yeah. It's curious, for sure. What were they saying before I got here?"

You gnawed on your top lip. "She kept insisting that he didn't know what the play was really about and that he should ask me."

"Huh."

"I know right." You carded a hand through your hair. "I'm screwed."

"Only if he actually works up the guts to ask," she countered. "Though, I think you should beat him to it."

You cocked your head to the side in question. "What do you mean?"

She lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "Y'know—like you have to confront him about meeting with Ellie. You can't keep this from him; I know you."

Yeah, she was right. It would eat at you if you let that guilt swirl in your stomach. Plus, all of those things Ellie had said to him… you hoped he was okay. Dear god, you hoped he was okay.

(But the question now, you supposed, was who would bring it up first?)

EPISODE EIGHT: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT SHE'S THE BO-BO-BO-BOSS

FUNNY story: it took a week before you and Hyunjae could even have a proper conversation, in person.

With the quarter well underway, there was little to no time to stop and smell the flowers anymore. This had now become a race toward graduation, meaning that everyone was focused on their own problems. The “pranks” had dulled down, but they were, by no means, completely gone. There were always the occasional cord missing, or that dreaded creaking noise in the wings on late nights.

You’d grown used to it by this point, and so had your peers, luckily. The conversation between Ellie and Hyunjae sat in the back of your mind at all times. You always knew it was there, but you had so many things to worry about. Act two was just about wrapping up though, and so, play progress was chugging along well on schedule.

You really did have nothing to worry about—maybe it had all been jitters. Maybe it would all just finally go smoothly.

Friday night rehearsal was a little slower tonight since everyone had been here since noon. You’d all practically spent the entire day together, having lunch first, then diving into proper rehearsal. It had been a rehearsal full of laughs and a good time, and by the time Hyunjae stepped foot into the performing arts hall, you felt that you could take on anything. Even the conversation that needed to take place.

“Hey, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?” He said as the two of you stepped into the privacy of the sound booth, the tails of laughter still lingering in the air from the scene he had come into. You were currently rehearsing the directions of the first scene of act three, where Younghoon’s character was going through a full-on “groom-zilla” mode while Eunwoo’s character couldn’t stop talking about Sana’s character. It had been a full one-eighty character swap between the two friends.

You licked your lips, trying to press your smile down a little. “Oh, yeah. I was taking a walk, like, a week ago—and I saw you and Ellie talking.” You figured it would be better to just air it out right away; there was no need to beat around the bush. You lowered yourself onto the edge of one of the tables inside the booth, the air turning stuffy from the insulation inside the box. Crossing your arms loosely over your front, you watched as Hyunjae’s mood shifted, his body shuffling as he sought a comfortable position against the wall by the door.

Hyunjae cleared his throat, head ducking as his hand cupped the back of his neck. “Oh, really? You saw that?”

“I heard what she said to you—”

His head whipped up at that.

“—and I can’t believe she said that,” you said, those dagger-sharp words echoing in your mind from what Ellie had said to him about his own character. “Are you… are you okay?”

Hyunjae’s eyes widened a millimeter. “Am—am I okay?” He stammered.

“Yeah, I mean, she said that you were awful and it was…” You shook your head with a haggard sigh. “I’m sorry she said all that to you.”

“Thanks,” he exhaled, peering over at you through his eyelashes. He looked so small for once. “I—” He huffed air out from his nostrils, leaning his head back against the wall as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. “Is that all you heard though?”

No, I also heard her insist you ask me what the play is about. You blinked, your own voice seemingly trapped in your throat. Why couldn’t you just own up to it?

But he must have taken your silence as you saying that you hadn’t heard anything else, so he gathered his wits to ask you, “Yn, what’s the play really about?”

The breath left your lungs. “You know what it’s about, Jae. You were there while I wrote it.” Please don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it. Because a part of you knew that if he pushed, you would give. You would tell him because… how could you not? If he wanted you to be honest with him, then… oh god, would you really? Would you risk this little secret of yours and ruin a friendship? Either way—it could go either way.

His tongue darted out for a moment as he carded a hand through his hair; he took a couple steps toward you. “I know, Yn. But—Ellie kept on insisting that I ask you what the real idea behind the play is. And she—and she,” he laughed, the sound disbelieving, “she said that you stole the idea from her, which is crazy! I know it’s crazy, because I watched you labor over this thing for months.”

She what? All thoughts except for one left your brain at that moment: why in the world would Ellie tell Hyunjae that you stole the idea for Jasmine from her? You didn’t remember ever seeing this kind of work from her before. “I didn’t steal anything from her.”

“I know,” he replied again, placating you. He now stood right in front of you, but your eyes raced back and forth about a mile a minute as you mentally went through the things you remember ever writing with her. You couldn’t remember; you couldn’t think. Why would she say that? “So I just wanted to ask,” he said slowly, his words drawn out as he leaned down slightly so you would look him in the eyes, “what is the play really about? The real meaning.”

There were pros and cons to telling him. On the one hand, you could spew the same surface-level bullshit that you usually did, but you had a feeling that one wouldn’t work this time. On the other hand, you could tell him—the truth. That was the worst pill to swallow. It could end in utter catastrophe or it could end in your wildest dreams. But what if, when he didn’t feel the same about you, had to let you down easy and your friendship would never be the same ever again? You couldn’t bear losing him, you just couldn’t. You loved Hyunjae…

“Yn, you’re scaring me,” he said with an anxious laugh.

You met his eyes then. “You don’t trust me?” You blurted before you could stop yourself. Those words, that tone… it sounded to you like he really was starting to believe what Ellie told him.

Something flashed across his face, and he was racing to defend himself. “What? No, of course I trust you. I just—I just want to know what the real meaning behind the play was about; that’s all!” And if you can’t tell me, then what else am I supposed to believe? “Yn, come on, honey—please—”

“It’s about you.”

All breath left him. You saw the way one hundred and one emotions flickered through his eyes; all of thoughts racing about at once as he tried to comprehend. “What? I don’t—I don’t understand.”

You balled your hands into fists in front of you as the frustration suddenly bubbled to the surface. “I wrote it about us, Hyunjae,” you told him. “Alex is based on you, Kai is based on me. I’ve been in love with you since junior year of high school, and that is what the true premise of the play is about.” Your hands were shaking now, gesturing between the two of you in stiff, constrained motions like the feeling of your chest’s range of movements at this time.

You watched it dawn on him, watched him swallow—hard. “Yn, I’m sorry—”

“Jaehyun.”

He shut up immediately.

You pressed your fingers to the space between your eyes. For a second, you swore you could feel tears tickle the insides of your eyes, and you blinked them away, inhaling deeply to get your body to calm the fuck down. Why were you crying? There was no reason to be crying right now. “Can you—” you stumbled over your words for once, “—can you give me some space. I can’t… I can’t think.”

He obliged you, backing up a few steps, and you said fuck it. “Hyunjae, I need space. Please.”

You thought you saw hurt flash across his face, but you just wanted to be out of his eyesight. You couldn’t bear to feel those soft, sympathetic eyes on you. You couldn’t bear the weight of his “I’m sorry I don’t feel the same” right now.

“Okay,” he said, though barely audible.

It took a minute, but he left and you were finally able to suck in a large gulp of air. You strode out of the sound box and realized that everyone on stage was either looking your way, or had quickly turned their heads to pretend they hadn’t just seen that silent argument take place through the sound box window.

Your face and neck were on fire, but you swallowed your pride and returned to your rightful place in the middle aisles of the floor seats. You picked up your script from where you’d abandoned it by your bag. “Right,” you said, your voice shaky until you cleared your throat. (Your hands were definitely still a bit wobbly, but that wasn’t your greatest concern right now.) “Where were we? Scene one, right?”

Everyone slowly began making their way back to their original positions, but Younghoon walked up to the bottom stage and lowered his voice to say, “Yn, we can take a break if you need one. Take five, then reconvene.”

He probably knew what just went down in the sound box. Yet, you found yourself shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you assured him, un-reassuringly. “I can do this, Hoon.”

He frowned at you then—those damn, soulful eyes—but nodded, respecting your decision. Like everyone else, he returned to the original position his character was in at the top of the scene.

I’m sorry, his voice seemed to echo in your ears. A part of you ached at the thought of that stark hurt on his face, but you were hurting, too. Why would you send him away like that?

You blinked, your head clearing. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see it.”

— ✶

A few hours later, you finally had everyone wrap up for the night.

“Thanks for all your hard work today!” You exclaimed as the actors and techies began swarming the stage to put props away. You climbed up to the stage, too, jumping onto one of the backdrops that Younghoon was wheeling backstage to help him direct it through the heavy folds of the backdrop curtain.

Younghoon shot you a smile from the other side of the prop. “Well, Miss Director, nice work today.”

You returned the expression wholeheartedly. “Thanks, man. The same goes to you; I appreciate all your hard work today. And that idea for the wedding sequence was absolutely brilliant.”

He chuckled at that, and the two of you worked together to slot the prop onto the cart with the rest of the ones that were just like it. A couple of stagehands then moved the assembly line along and rolled the cart down the hall to lock up in one of the dressing rooms. “I like to think I’ve been to enough weddings at this point to know how to spice them up.”

“Ah, that’s right,” you mused along with him as the two of you began walking down the backstage corridor to where you knew his partner was hard at work with that miraculous fountain. “I remember something about yours and YH!Yn’s first proper outing being to your cousin’s wedding?”

Younghoon threw his head back with a hearty chuckle at that. “Your memory serves you correctly then,” he confirmed. “Well, it wasn’t our first proper outing together. Technically, we met at an outing—”

“What do you think they were arguing about? It looked like they broke up or something.”

The line caught you off guard, and your footsteps faltered. Younghoon gave you a confused look, eyebrow arched. Your ears strained to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in one of the open dressing rooms you just passed by.

“No way that they were dating! … okay, I guess that would make sense why she put up with him all the time,” a second voice scoffed. “Maybe she finally got tired of his bullshit and cut him off.”

“That would make sense as to why he got out of the theater so fast. I went to their high school, and even after Hyunjae left, the year above me still talked about him—”

Your hand slammed against the doorframe of the dressing room, effectively making the two stagehands inside jump in surprise. They gaped at you with wide eyes, lips parted in shock as you addressed them with a carefully-made blank expression. “Let’s not go sticking our noses where they aren’t appreciated, yeah? Worry about yourselves, thanks.”

The two bowed their heads, apologies crawling from their mouths, and you turned back into the hallway where Younghoon was waiting for you.

You resumed your walk down the hall, and your friend casted you a side-long glance. “Thanks for standing up for him like you do,” he said to you. “I don’t know what happened today, but…”

“It doesn’t matter what happened today,” you said to Younghoon with a small exhale. You gave him a smile, even though you knew it wasn’t convincing. “I’ll always stand up for him.”

“Even when he doesn’t deserve it?” Younghoon joked with a laugh.

Your smile curled a little wider. “Even when he doesn’t deserve it.” In reality, you knew that he deserved to have someone stand up for him. Whether that be you, or Younghoon, or even Jihoon—you knew that everyone deserved to have someone watch their back when they weren’t around. You might have pushed him away earlier this evening, but that would never stop you from continuing to protect him. It was simple, really; you loved him.

EPISODE NINE: ARE DRAMA MAJORS ALWAYS SO DRAMATIC? WAIT, DON’T ANSWER THAT.

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have done this in the grocery store like you guys always do,” Hyunjae grumbled as sounds of livelihood raged all around him: pots and pans clanged to the sizzle of food on the stove, the TV played some random American murder mystery show on low volume, and Hyunjae was sandwiched in between two others on his and Younghoon’s apartment couch.

Chanhee, who sat on the other side of Juyeon (who was on one side of Hyunjae), snorted. His nose was in his phone as he scrolled through Instagram, but didn’t look up as he replied, “As if we’d let you into Grocery Aisle Therapy. That’s exclusive admission.”

“That’s true,” Jacob chimed in from Hyunjae’s other side, as the man spooned a generous helping of Frosted Flakes into his mouth, “I tried.”

“And if even Jacob was denied entry,” Sangyeon mused from the kitchen as he turned off the stove and hood range, carrying over a bowl of the fried rice he had made for himself. Haknyeon skipped behind him with his own bowl and his cheeks were already full of the delicious food. Eric and Sunwoo were swift to follow their friend’s lead and raced into the kitchen to get a helping for themselves.

Changmin made a face from where he sat on the floor below Chanhee and Younghoon. “Not for lack of trying. You should’ve seen JC!Yn try to resist his goo-goo eyes. Bleh,” he gagged.

“I admire her tenacity then,” Hyunjae sniffed. “Not everyone can resist Jacob.”

Jacob beamed.

Kevin narrowed his eyes at Changmin. He sat just a few spaces away from the glasses-wearing menace, but carefully cross-legged and cradling a bowl of popcorn in his hands. “You say that when you literally pined after your girlfriend like an angsty teenager for three years.” He feigned a face of contemplation, then added, “Oh wait, you actually are an angsty teen—aye! Dad, Changmin hit me!”

“I am so sick of this family,” Sangyeon mumbled under his breath as he collapsed into the armchair adjacent to the sofa-sectional everyone else flocked upon. “Enough, both of you. Why were we all called here, again?”

Eric slid back into the living room on the polished wood floors in his socks, then perched atop the arm of Sangyeon’s armchair as he feasted upon his bowl of fried rice. He carefully lowered each spoonful of rice into his mouth so he wouldn’t dirty the fluffy cardigan he now wore. "Hyung's in trouble with his lady lover."

“Lady lover?” Sunwoo echoed with his face scrunched up like he just ate something sour. He had taken the spot between Kevin and Changmin to hopefully stop one from kicking the other again (hopefully).

"You're so judgmental."

"And you're—"

Sangyeon massaged the migraine pulsing in his temples away furiously with a clear grimace. "Shush, children. What did you do this time, Hyunjae?"

Hyunjae's jaw dropped, an image akin to one particular Pikachu meme. "Why am I immediately assumed to be the one at fault?"

"You summoned us all here," Haknyeon said with a shrug. "And Younghoon hyung said that it looked like you and Yn-ie suffered a break up in front of the entire main cast of Jasmine."

Hyunjae threw a displeased glance Younghoon's way; the tall man grinned sheepishly as if saying "what was I supposed to do—lie?" Hyunjae stared down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers and the watch on his wrist. "It wasn't a break up…"

Kevin made a disapproving noise. "Oh, we know."

Hyunjae glared down at the top of Kevin's head. "Rude."

"Okay, so explain what happened," Juyeon prompted.

The man in question sucked in a breath. Where to begin? Someone muted the TV, so Hyunjae and Younghoon's apartment descended into a coat of silence. Everyone waited for Hyunjae's response.

Hyunjae decided that there was only one logical way to start. He began when he first received a text message from the elusive 'Ellie', your supposed best friend before him. He couldn't believe you had a soulmate other than him, but it only mattered that you two had found each other—not that that mattered—

He went through the entire spiel: Ellie had texted him about some project they worked on together in senior year of high school. He hadn't known why she would even care about something dumb they'd done in high school especially when she was a fourth year in college like the rest of you. But she had asked politely and he wasn't one to just dismiss someone when it was a simple, innocent request. However, when he had finished with this little task, he should have stopped there.

Their conversations eventually escalated from innocent "oh, you remember when…" to "if we meet, you have to agree to hear my side of the argument." He remembered her exact words: "You'll be very shocked to hear the truth" regarding your business with the play. He wanted to look out for you like you always did for him (and screw it, he was curious), so he obliged Ellie and met with her.

That had been one of many mistakes he made. The biggest mistake was what went down at the theater a couple of days ago. And now? He had just made you confess to him, he had broken your trust, and he didn't know how he was going to make it up to you.

(He had to admit though, that once he finally got space to think about what you said to him, there was something about the prospect of you being in love with him that gave his heart a lively kick-start—)

Chanhee reached over Juyeon's head and swatted Hyunjae's neck like there was a very large mosquito there. "You dumbass!"

Hyunjae yelped, his hand reaching up to rub the aching place furiously. "Ow!"

"Deserved," Kevin sang as he tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "That was super not cool, man."

"You don't think I know that?" He rolled his eyes.

"Yes," everyone chorused together.

Cue his next set of eye rolls.

"Hyung," said Sunwoo as he shifted so he faced Hyunjae. His eyes squinted up at him, his curly bangs falling into his pupils as they usually did. "How could you not see that she was in love with you? You have to be blinder than a bat."

"You've been hanging out with SW!Yn too much," Changmin teased.

"Hey, don't bring her into this and taint her good name! Even she saw how perfectly enraptured Yn-ie is."

Changmin opened his mouth to make another unnecessary comment, but Sunwoo slapped a palm over his friend's mouth.

"I guess that leaves one question," said Juyeon, finally, after a long stretch of his silence.

"And what's that, Juyeonie?" Sangyeon asked.

Juyeon pursed his lips together in a slight pout. "What else? Are you in love with Yn, too, Hyunjae?"

Oh—

Hyunjae's thoughts careened to a stop when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He maneuvered around on the couch cushion to retrieve the device, his heart pounding in anticipation—but that emotion was immediately swapped out with utter disdain.

His friends observed this flip with great interest. "Who—"

An indignant spark lit Hyunjae's dark irises as he furiously typed something to the sender and promptly blocked the number.

Jacob and Juyeon, who were able to peer over at Hyunjae's phone screen, both widened their eyes in scandal. Jacob grinned, lifting his hand to delicately hide his snickers. "Well that answers our question."

Hyunjae sulked, swiping through his contacts, then blocking Ellie's number, too. He should have done that so damn long ago.

"It was some guy asking if he knew if Yn was free in two weeks—"

"And she's not," Hyunjae grunted, shoving his phone back into his pocket, then standing up to go get Sangyeon's fried rice in the kitchen. "These fucking guys, man. Like, what the fuck am I gonna do? Hype you up to her? No way in hell—" He scoffed, slapping a spatula of rice into his bowl with a strength that the bowl, rice, and utensil didn't deserve.

He couldn't believe that one stupid, little thing the two of you had done in freshman year of college had led to this spam of dudes flooding his inbox for you. If he had half a mind, he would declare that you weren't on the market anymore and that you weren't even interested in seeing any… body…

The thought marinated in his head for a moment as he slowly chewed the fried rice. Why did he want you "off the market"? You were his best friend, but you weren't his to covet or shield or speak for. You weren't his.

You weren't… his.

"Oh my god, you can actually see the neurons firing in his brain for once."

Hyunjae plopped himself back into his original place on the couch. "I hate you guys."

"So you've realized that you're in love with her?" Younghoon asked exasperatedly, his hands splayed out on his legs like he was begging to the cosmos.

Hyunjae made a face and pretended that his heart wasn't palpitating and that a drop of sweat wasn't dripping down the back of his neck right now. "What? Of course not," he said through a mouthful of fried rice.

One could hear the collective exhale of disappointment all the way to your townhouse.

— ✶

It was Thursday evening when you found yourself walking out of the performing arts hall after yet another rehearsal, and coming face to face with the person who had become one of your greatest problems over the past month.

Your hand stopped in midair from which you were brushing the hair out of your face when you and a young woman made eye contact. She was seated on one of the benches facing the entryway of the performing arts hall, her attention lifting away from her phone and to you. The sky remained alight and streaked in its dazzling sunset colors, and yet, the sight of her made everything feel grayed.

She smiled at you. "Ah, you're done."

Something crawled beneath the surface of your skin. For a second, you thought it was disgust, but upon further thought, it was really something bittersweet. You swallowed, adjusting your hold on your bag strap. "Can I help you?"

"Do you remember me, Yn?"

"Of course, I do, Ellie." How could I forget you?

Ellie's smile shuddered and you suddenly couldn't read her face. It was strange seeing her four years into the future. You remembered catching glimpses of her in the hallways, her sweet smile and button nose, the freckles sprinkled across her cheekbones like kisses from the sun. "I guess that's one thing out of the way."

Her biting words to Hyunjae appeared in the forefront of your mind. "What you said to Hyunjae—"

"Was true," she cut in. "And based on the fact that he blocked me a few days ago, I'm guessing that something happened between you two." Her lips curled upward, "How does it feel to know he actually doubted you? If I'm being honest, it makes me fucking sing, Yn!" There was a shiver-inducing giddiness to her voice and you wondered if this was all a joke. It would be a cruel joke, but anything would be better than this.

Could she see the horror on your face? "Ellie, we were friends," you managed to say.

She pressed her lips together. "We were friends until you decided that we weren't."

"What are you talking about?" You threw back at her. "We drifted apart—"

"You abandoned me," she quipped. The smile was gone now, her mouth set into a taut line. "You left me to rot."

Your heart dropped into your stomach. About a million things flashed through your mind, but most of all, you came to a very fast epiphany: you'd always thought she was happy. "Ellie," you said, slowly, softly, "I'm sorry that you felt that way. Really, I am so sorry."

"I've made sure you feel that way."

"But you should have left Hyunjae out of this."

Ellie laughed and the sound was harsh. "This isn't about your stupid best friend, or whatever. This is about you and me. I can't believe you thought—how could you prefer him over me? Why did you stop talking to me, Yn?"

You were so confused. All this time, you had thought that yours and Ellie's friendship ended on a mutually neutral ground. You thought that you had just drifted away from one another from the eventuality of time. Was that not how she saw it this entire time?

The end of Ellie's question took on a raspy undertone, the gleam in her eyes less so that of anger, but the melancholy underneath. You wanted to make things right, but you didn't know what that was.

When you had yet to say anything except for letting the breeze waft past your face, she let out a scoff. It was a somewhat embarrassed sound, her eyes skittish. "You know that my parents always compared me to you. Constantly. You remember what you said to me?"

You swallowed. "'They can compare all they want, but you'll always be enough for me.'"

"I didn't want to bother you when we 'drifted apart', as you say," she continued on with a huff. "And then I saw you and Hyunjae, and the way you looked at him—god, I knew right away, Yn. And I was so bitter. Just so, so bitter." She shook her head. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

Dear god, you hadn't known this whole time. You'd wished you had known. You didn't know what you might have done differently—maybe not have been so blind—but… what if you couldn't have saved that friendship? Was this always meant to happen in the grand scheme of the universe's stage?

You made your way toward her and she simply watched as you stopped a handful of paces away from her. “I didn’t mean to drift away from you or to make you feel like I was replacing you in any way.” For a moment, you were quiet, and you inhaled a deep breath to query, "What made you suddenly want to confront me after so long then?"

She peered up at you, a mixture of sadness and something sharper in the reflection of her irises. "You didn't have to keep getting better and showing off. I just got sick of living in your shadow when you weren't even there."

You bristled at that. “What else could I have done? I’m sorry you felt that way, really, but I had a lot of pressure on my shoulders, too. I wanted them to stop expecting more from me, but each time I did something right, they kept pushing for more. And I—”

“I just wanted my friend back!” She exclaimed.

The words died on your tongue, dissipating in the tense air between you two. The fight left you then, seeing the hard break in her expression, a sliver of the girl you remembered from so long ago. What happened to her? She’d been poisoned by whatever feelings were locked inside her, and you supposed that it was only inevitable that those same feelings would one day be unleashed. You wished she didn’t have to confront you this way. "So you thought lying to Hyunjae would have done the trick?" You finally murmured.

"You didn't figure out who's been messing around with your production all quarter?"

The question caught you off guard, but you were quick to catch on nonetheless. Your breath hitched as you stood there, stunned. "That was you?"

A nod.

"All of it?" Disbelief struck you clean across the face and you felt like you'd just been slapped. A new level of anger boiled in your blood; all of those nights you spent creeped out of your mind, the extra stress from all the superstitious bullshit—

"This is our last act," she said, her tongue darting out for a moment. "I don't want anything else from you after this."

You couldn’t believe she would go through all of this trouble—all for what? All to prove what? It was utterly childish, preposterous, dramatic. “Good,” you asserted, as firmly as you could muster, “I don’t want anything from you either.”

And there was a split-second where you saw a crack in her expression, truly. Before, when you’d seen that bit of melancholy seep through, it must have been purposeful. Perhaps it was to draw some kind of sympathy or guilt from you, but after she admitted to doing all of that crap to you and your peers, you weren’t about to lean into that, old friend be damned. Of course you felt bad that she had felt like that for so long. You pitied her. But it didn’t mean you had to forgive her; not for this.

Maybe this was it though: all she wanted from you was for you to feel as helpless as she had, but you simply couldn’t feel that way. All that you could feel was cold fury.

“Fine,” she cleared her throat, straightening. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

You let out a scoff, the sound making her eyelids shudder. Your teeth grated against each other as you closed yours and her “final act”: “And I hope you’ve learned yours. I hope I never see you again.”

You turned brusquely on your heel to walk away before you did anything rash. But a sudden thought appeared on the tip of your tongue, and you found yourself stopping. When you glanced back at her, she was watching you leave with an emotion you couldn’t quite detect. The two of you had been such good friends, and… you really wished you could understand her position better. “I just don’t understand why you went through all this trouble. If you had just—texted me, called me—” You made a gesture with your hand then let the limb fall limply to your side, “You could’ve just said hi.”

You left her behind after that, purposefully this time. Did people like Ellie deserve their chance at redemption? Maybe when the dust had settled, but for now, you hoped she received her due karma.

EPISODE TEN: GOOGLE, DEFINE DRAMATIC IRONY.

THEY said that a terrible dress rehearsal marked a production for a brilliant opening night. As Michael, the wine salesman dude, forgot his fifth line of the rehearsal; as the tech staff in the box forgot their second lighting cue of the night; and as Hongjoong continued to have to fuss over San’s Uncle™ beard for the third time, you were trying very hard to keep that saying in mind.

Weeks had passed—you didn’t know how many, maybe five, maybe two, maybe an entire year—but that entire time, you didn’t feel Ellie’s presence haunting you anymore, nor had you heard from Hyunjae yet. He was busy with his architectural capstone project, anyway, and you felt that you both needed to take this time to yourselves to focus on more important things. (You thought this as if your friendship with him didn’t mean the absolute fucking world, but you were pretty sure you were seconds away from setting this building on fire so—)

The dreaded Tech Week had descended upon the cast and crew of Jasmine. Not only that, but it was also Finals Week, meaning everyone in this room was just as stressed out as they usually were, except, five times more. It made for a great rehearsal, clearly.

“—remember that as soon as she says ‘fine!’, you have to be out here to pull the rug out from beneath her feet,” you instructed the stagehand, who looked a millisecond away from passing out right there on the stage.

When they nodded their understanding, you turned away with a migraine pounding away at your temples. You just had to get through one more act, and you could call it a night. Opening night was literally in four days, and you were trying not to yearn after your best friend and feel guilty about pushing him away—and then there was the guilt that had slowly bubbled up over the past few weeks from what happened with Ellie. Maybe it had been all your fault—

“Yn, your eye is twitching.”

“Huh?” You perked up from where you were seemingly glaring a hole in the ground of the nosebleeds. Younghoon shot you an amused, yet mildly concerned look from within the winds of the stage. “Oh, sorry. Can we take it from the top of act three, please? One more act, people; let’s hang in there.”

That latter bit was more for you.

By the end of rehearsal, everyone was just as happy as you were to head home. Today was Monday, the beginning of the week, and yet you wished it was Saturday already—graduation. Now that was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Younghoon held the door open for you as the two of you exited out the front doors of the performing arts hall. When you murmured a thank you to him, he fell into step with you easily. The walk to the bus station seemed impossibly long with the ache in your legs.

Younghoon released a low-sounding whistle. “So…”

“Hm?”

“Are you coming to Cobie’s surprise birthday party tomorrow? I know it’s finals week and tech week, but it’d be nice to have that little break beforehand.”

Oh, right. Hyunjae’s friend Jacob was having his birthday party—well, it wasn’t him who was hosting, but his girlfriend. She had organized all of it, and had even had the good will to extend an invitation to you. At the time, you couldn’t find it in you to say no, despite the knowledge of your busy month at the forefront of your mind. But even now, you found it hard to really formulate a concrete response. The uneasiness was creeping up on you again.

“I dunno, Hoon…” you said lowly with a wince. “Maybe I should just catch up on sleep, y’know? And plus, I don’t want my feelings for Hyunjae to ruin the mood or anything. I’m kind of a Debby Downer right now,” you laughed pitifully.

Younghoon’s mouth curved into a frown. “Yn, you’re not a downer. You’re stressed and you have a lot of burden on your shoulders, but… I think something carefree will be good for you, no? Maybe you should at least stop by and say hello to people—take advantage of Hyunjae having to be in charge of providing free booze for everyone.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his kind eyes. “I’ll think about it,” you promised. You were probably too tired to think logically about going anywhere else but your bed at this moment.

Younghoon nodded. “Okay.”

As the two of you carried on down the stairs now, the bus stop in sight, you gathered your wits about you. “How is… how is he, by the way?” You asked.

Younghoon peered at you with something akin to gentleness and sympathy. “He’s… I think he’s okay.” He squinted one eye as he looked up toward the night sky, the thoughts meandering about his head. “You just have to give him some time. You know how stubborn he is,” he joked.

You could only give a shallow nod at that.

Not one to let a friend leave him so upset, he nudged you with the back of his hand. “Hey, don’t worry too much about him, okay? You have a lot on your plate right now, and you deserve to have your head in the game, okay? It’s all gonna be okay.”

“You always have such a way with words,” you laughed lightly as you wiped a tear from your eye—whether it was from emotions or just being plain exhausted, you couldn’t tell.

He smiled again then. “If I wrote down these words, I’d be stealing your job, Miss Director.”

Your laugh was a little brighter at that note. “Okay, Actor Extraordinaire. We’ll see about that.”

The two of you shared a laugh, and when you reached the bus stop, Younghoon waited until the bus came by to pick you up. It wasn’t yet deep night, but he was a gentleman all the same. You climbed up into the bus, scanning your transportation card as you went, then sat by a window to wave to Younghoon.

When the bus pulled away from the curb and away into the night, Younghoon pulled out his phone to the text chain with his partner. He’d come to a decision then, and as hungry as he was, he figured he could channel this annoyance into confronting one certain man by the name of Lee Jaehyun.

younghoon’s phone: love, i think i’m going to be late for dinner

beloved mastermind: i’ll save u a seat <;3

— ✶

The lights beneath the swimming pool glowed an ethereal shade of fluorescent blue. It reminded Younghoon of a mermaid's cove with the way the light waves reflected off the ceilings of the building to create scales on the rafters. The emptiness of the indoor swimming pool was offset by the thrashing of flesh against water as a lone swimmer stole lap after lap across the great blue.

Younghoon lowered himself onto a steel bleacher and watched Hyunjae bolt from one end of the pool to the next, hardly taking the time to breathe air, like he breathed chlorine and water instead. The familiarity of the smell—warm stone, pungent chemicals—sent flashes of Younghoon's own days on the high school swim team to his mind.

At last, Hyunjae took his final lap, his breathing coming out labored as he swept a hand up his face and through his hair. His locks slicked all the way back, and his chest rose and fell harshly as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his lungs fought to consume oxygen without asphyxiating on it.

Hyunjae clambered his elbows onto the deck. "How'd you—know I was here?" He managed to say, nodding his thanks as Younghoon handed him the water bottle at the other end of the bench from him where Hyunjae's duffle bag sat.

Younghoon gave a meager shoulder shrug. "I know you too well not to," he said. The two were both swimmers, and where else would swimmers go to put their head somewhere else and to escape the world?

Hyunjae couldn't argue with that.

The two friends were quiet for a minute as Younghoon let Hyunjae catch his breath. There was something troubling about seeing him so tense, even after pumping out so many laps. The exhaustion didn't seem to outweigh the conflict warring in his mind.

Finally— "Hyunjae-ah, what are you doing?"

Hyunjae blinked up at him, perplexed. "Huh?"

Younghoon leaned his cheek against his palm, elbow resting on top of his knee. He fixed him with a stare. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

This time, the message seemed to have been delivered successfully. Hyunjae licked his lips, his gaze averting away from Younghoon. "Did you come here just to scold me?"

"No, I came here to tell you you're being an angsty teen."

Hyunjae scowled, his lips pressed into a pout. "No, I'm not."

Younghoon rolled his eyes just as his stomach grumbled in protest at him not going straight to meet his partner for dinner. Instead, here he was, trying to talk sense to a wall. "You're so childish sometimes."

He quieted. Hyunjae leaned his head against the meat of his forearm, eyes fluttering closed against the warmth of the heated pool deck. "How is she?"

"She's not good, but she's also not bad," Younghoon replied. He sighed, leaning forward onto his forearms for a more comfortable confrontation position. His lips pulled into a line. "Stressed, of course, but I think that was a given."

Hyunjae rubbed his eyes. "I fucked up, Younghoon."

A solemn nod. "I'm glad you see it now."

"This isn't a joke."

"I'm not saying it's a joke."

Hyunjae squinted at him. "Sometimes I don't believe you."

Younghoon smiled cheekily. "Well, sometimes you have to pick who and what to believe."

That hit a nerve, even if Younghoon didn't mean it to. Hyunjae immediately thought of yours and his last conversation. He couldn't get the image out of his head of the look of betrayal on your face when you asked him if he didn't trust you. He'd been stupid to be so curious, but of course he trusted you. He'd always trusted you. Who else could he trust but the very person who always protected him and was by his side? So why did he have to go and be so stupid?

He backed away from the wall for a minute and simply stood in the middle of the shallow lane as if the water could give him wisdom. "I," he began, then sighed, "I miss her a lot. I've wanted to text her, to call her so many times." He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I think I just don't know what I would say."

"An apology would be a good start," suggested Younghoon.

"Right…" That was obvious, and yet, it was always the most difficult step. Would you let him come back into your life after a reveal like that? Feelings were such fragile, fickle things.

His heart sank at the idea of losing you forever though.

One day, she'll drop you, too, those damned words replayed over and over in his head like a broken record. —When she finds someone better… I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories.

Once upon a time, Hyunjae hadn't always been "awful" or dogged down by other people's negative testimonials about his attitude. So what if he had been "scorned by love" as you so lovingly put it one time? That experience had been enough for him to shut down all access points, keeping you sheltered in with him. It was hard for him to think of wanting to be with anyone else… but you.

He didn't mean to latch onto you so tight, but perhaps he had grown so dependent on you all this time. You had never given him reason to doubt how much you cared—god, why had he been so stupid?

Younghoon watched Hyunjae's inner conflict through the windows to his soul, glowing with the cerulean blue of the chemically altered pool water. "Hyunjae, do you love her?"

Of course he loved you. That was out of the question. But this was a different type of love that Younghoon was referring to, and it called for something much larger in the grand scheme of things.

That kind of love—what a frightening prospect, he thought. But didn't you make everything so much less frightening?

EPISODE ELEVEN: PLACES, EVERYONE!

"YOU stole my boyfriend, by the way." Hyunjae huffed as he set down the last two grocery bags he had helped bring up to the apartment from Juyeon's car.

JC!Yn barely batted an eyelash at him as she swept past to organize the utensils and cups set out on the breakfast table. “You snooze, you lose, Lee,” she teased with a sing-song tone.

From the front door, Sangyeon bumbled in with a clean, crisp white box, as he whistled a happy tune under his breath. JC!Yn greeted him at the entryway, thanking him profusely for picking up the cake, then taking the box from him so she could transfer it to the fridge for safe keeping.

“Chanhee says that he’s bringing his best friend, so he wants everyone to—I quote—‘not be embarrassing’,” Changmin snorted and giggled loudly from the couch where he relayed the information from his texts with Chanhee.

“That’ll be difficult for you,” CM!Yn quipped back so fast that Hyunjae couldn’t even suppress the high-pitched laugh he let out. Not that he wanted to suppress it; he had to admit that Changmin’s girlfriend was just as much a menace as her boyfriend was.

As Changmin’s jaw dropped and he pounced on top of her to tickle her into submission, Hyunjae averted his gaze elsewhere. He pulled his phone out, leaning against the granite kitchen countertop while he read Younghoon’s latest text notifications.

bread face: we’ll be there soon

bread face: i think i saw kevin and jacob a few cars behind us at the intersection, so i’m making haknyeon step on it

hyunjae’s phone: lol i was gonna chastise u about texting and driving hoon

bread face: tch pls, i’m better than that 🙄

bread face: i would at least make yh!yn do my texts for me 🤪

Hyunjae glanced up just in time to see JC!Yn’s front door open to reveal Chanhee and Eric, along with their plus ones. He tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking offhandedly at the fact that so many of his friends had found people to be with. It felt like they were all growing up far too fast; even as a fourth-year in university, it was unimaginable. Where would they all be in ten years? Where would he be?

He hoped, at the very least, that he might see you in his future—one way or another. As long as he could pull his shit together and finally talk to you.

hyunjae’s phone: almost everyone’s here btw r u guys close??

bread face: yeah, pulling up one block over so they don’t see hak’s car

bread face: hey, do yk if yn’s coming today?

Hyunjae’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, then he typed in the clear answer: no, not a clue. I have a feeling she won’t be here though.

He tucked his phone away, looking over to see that JC!Yn’s roommate, Kei, had just stepped out of her room with a finished “Happy Birthday, Jacob” banner. “Hey, you need help with that?”

— ✶

The party was well under way, and suffice to say, the surprise party had been an entire success. Because Jacob was definitely not a fan of being jumpscared, it was good foresight that everyone was just in sight when he and Kevin opened the door. He had no clue that his partner had organized this for everyone and that everyone else was in on it. (Even Eric was able to keep the secret in the wraps, no doubt with the help of his significant other.) Almost all of his friends had brought along a plus-one, minus the singletons (himself, Juyeon, Kevin, and Sangyeon—though, that was still debatable) and Haknyeon and Sunwoo who’s significant others weren’t too close with the group just yet. It was a marvel that Younghoon’s girlfriend decided to come, too, but she said she would probably leave early anyway.

“You’re so sad-looking,” said Juyeon as he hopped onto the island counter next to Hyunjae. The two of them could scope out the whole apartment from this vantage point; the mood seemed to be at an all-time high, despite it being an incredibly stressful week for everyone.

Hyunjae made an indignant noise and he lifted his plastic cup of soda to his lips. “Pfft. I’m not sad-looking.”

Juyeon gave a meager shrug. “Every time you see someone and their partner, you look like your puppy just got taken.”

“That’s—” he stammered in protest, “—that’s not true. I—I just keep thinking about my arch capstone, that’s all! School is ruining my life.” The lie was so stark that even Hyunje winced to himself.

“Ah, well, I can relate to that,” his friend sighed. The two gazed out at the party, their ears perking up when they heard Sangyeon say something about him and Jacob needing to step outside for Jacob’s birthday gift—whatever that meant. Hyunjae and Juyeon exchanged strange looks with one another, before bursting into laughter.

Not even a few minutes had passed before Jacob and Sangyeon walked back into the apartment with everyone’s curiosity piqued. Jacob had on the best poker face that he could muster, his lips pressed together but a muscle in the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he was either trying not to laugh or smile.

“Well?” Kevin was the first to voice. He, along with everyone else over at the couch, leaned over the back of the furniture, their eyes wide like dogs waiting for a treat. Hyunjae and Juyeon probably looked similar from their perches.

“He asked for proof of my girlfriend,” Sangyeon said as he closed the front door behind him.

Hyunjae snorted, catching a slight glare from the eldest in the room. For however long, their friend group had an ongoing inside joke that Sangyeon pretended to have a “secret girlfriend.” It was only because Sangyeon had never once provided concrete proof, and maybe it was because he purposefully withheld it, but Hyunjae simply couldn’t understand why. Thus, the hilarious teasing of their eldest friend. Nonetheless, Hyunjae and everyone else remained curious as to the truth.

“Well then?” Juyeon pressed, “What’s the verdict, Cobie?”

The smile on his face really couldn’t be suppressed anymore, and it looked so close to a smirk. Jacob grinned, strolling over to the couch to resume his place between his best friend and girlfriend. “No comment.”

The room erupted into a loud groan from seemingly everyone. “What kind of answer—”

Even Sangyeon looked frustrated and his eyebrows furrowed together, paired with a slight parting of his lips. “Birthday Boy has so much audacity today. Dude, I literally showed you—”

At the sound of the doorbell tone, everyone paused. Hyunjae hopped off the counter, chirping, “I’ll get it!”

No one was opposed to Hyunjae opening the door as everyone else engaged in a battle of wits commenting on Jacob's refusal to confirm nor deny the existence of a future Mrs. Lee Sangyeon. Hyunjae reached the front door and peered through the peephole curiously—then stiffened.

You stood on the other side, your hands fidgety as you played around with the little gift bag in your hands, no doubt for Jacob.

He could hardly believe his eyes—you actually came.

He opened the door without much else left to do. Your gazes clashed in the front threshold of JC!Yn's apartment, your breaths leaving your lungs at the sight of the other. Hyunjae swallowed; he hated this tension, hated the way he couldn't just wind his arms around you as easily as he had done before. The palpitations of his heart were teetering on dangerous territory, and he chalked it up to the fact that he was nervous he might be making you uncomfortable.

"Hey, come in," he murmured low but soft, stepping aside to give you space. He barely registered the background noise at this point.

"Thanks," you said back, your voice barely audible. You stepped out of your shoes and nudged them toward the massive pile by the shoe rack, like an ocean of footwear wherein one must play a matching game in order to leave. You coughed, "Uhm, is there a place where I can put this?" You lifted your gift bag half-heartedly.

"Oh, I can put it—" he automatically reached out for it, and when his fingers grazed against yours, the two of you jolted, "—away," he stammered. You let go of it so he could quickly grab hold and make his very awkward escape.

He dipped into JC!Yn's room where all the presents were being stashed, allowing himself to soak in a bit of quiet, even if he could still hear the muffled party just outside the room. That had to be the worst thing ever. Why was he so jumpy around you? It couldn't be that you professed your being in love with him, right? He wished it wasn't like this.

He needed to talk to you, damn it, he needed to fix this—

But when he emerged from the room and into the main living space, he saw you chatting with YH!Yn and Kevin and Changmin. He watched you smile at them and laugh and look way less awkward than you'd been with him just a minute ago. He remembered what this week was, what Friday was.

Opening night: the culmination of months' worth of blood, sweat, and tears.

He'd been there for you since the beginning of it. He couldn't see you fail, and this was the first time he'd seen you not stressed. He didn't have the heart to ruin that for you right now.

So instead of marching up to you and requesting an audience, he made his way over to a few of his other friends to join whatever conversation they were having. He would fix things when you didn't have five thousand other things to worry about. Today wasn't about him, after all.

EPISODE TWELVE: CALL TIME, BABY!

TONIGHT was the night. You thought you were going to throw up, to be honest, and you gently sipped on an iced caramel macchiato to keep your energy up. Perhaps the caffeine was making you just a little jittery, but it was probably the nerves—

"Yn!"

"Yeah, what's up?" You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and just barely dodging the pair of stagehands hustling a backdrop past you.

Jihoon gestured wide with his arms. "Where are you going? Preshow's in seven minutes."

Oh, right. Your eyes widened in incredulity at your absentmindedness and practically jogged over to Jihoon and the other end of the corridor that led back toward backstage, instead of wherever the fuck you were off to… "Sorry," you muttered, waving vaguely to your head, "dunno what's up with me right now. Is everyone ready? Everything in place?"

He nodded, his eyes leaving you for a second while someone said something to him in his headset. "Ugh, shit. We can't find SW!Yn—ever since she got that boyfriend of hers—"

Your hands flapped between the two of you as you nodded your head vigorously—yeah, it was definitely the caffeine. "She's probably in the sound booth with Chan and the others. She's not that boy crazy."

Jihoon made an unconvinced expression, but bid you farewell nonetheless. He probably knew more than you did, but that was expected since you weren't exactly a long-term staff member working backstage. Jihoon ran a tight ship; there was no way anyone would risk a Jihoon stare by saying hi to their significant other.

You held your head in your hand and set your drink down on one of the stools by the edge of the room so it wouldn't get knocked over. Tonight was Opening Night—the night. Tonight, there was a full house, including your friends and family, everyone at school, and about a dozen or so industry experts. The latter weren't just here for you, but for your acting peers, as well. This was a critical night for everyone. It absolutely had to go right.

You shifted the headset on top of your head and made your way back down the corridor. You were far too antsy to just stay in one spot.

"—can one of you go check Jess's hair and makeup—no, don't just rip it, hon, that's not how it works!" You recognized that anguished cry anywhere, and you peered into the dressing room Hongjoong and a swarm of other busy people were.

"What's going on?" You asked.

Hongjoong's head whipped around so fast you were surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Yn, thank God! You know how to braid?"

"Jess still needs hair and makeup?"

"Yes, one of my people had to call out sick—thanks Yn-ie!" You were already on your way to find where Jess was before he had finished his sentence. You'd hardly even processed the fact that one of the costume staff had to call out sick—that wasn't your main concern right now—you literally had less than five minutes to locate Jess and yeet yourself backstage.

The sound in your headset sparked to life. "Sound to Yn, Yn to sound. Can you hear me?" Bang Chan's voice echoed into your ears.

You narrowly got beheaded by a portion of the wedding arch coming down the hallway. "Loud and clear; fuck, it's a mess back here, Chan." God, your head hurt and the play hadn't even begun yet.

"Hey, man. Take a little breath, okay? Yeah, there you go."

You sucked in a very large breath of air. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins and your hands suddenly felt very cold. "Hyunjae usually helped me through opening nights," you exhaled, your head swerving left and right as you checked each room for Jess's presence. "Where is she?"

"I know, Yn," he said gently. "You can do this though. I know you can. You've been waiting for this for four years—hell, even longer than that."

Your head bobbed up and down as if he could see you—oh shit, was that her you just saw?

"He's probably sitting in one of those velvet seats, absolutely pumped for you."

"Even though I completely fucked up our friendship?" You choked out, flagging Jess down. The poor girl looked frantic as she was trying to finish her stage makeup while also braiding her hair. There was no way she could do both, but you admired the attempt. You began to help her out with her hair as she used her phone as a mirror.

"I don't know what happened, Yn, but he loves you too much to not be here tonight."

It was suddenly very difficult to swallow.

"Preshow in two. Are you ready for this, Director Ln?"

You finished the braid, snapping the elastic with a crisp thwip. Tapping Jess to let her know she was good to go, you made an immediate reverse maneuver to backstage. You took a deep breath in once more—held it—

Get your head in the game. Chan was right—you'd been waiting for this for far too long, worked far too hard. You needed to put faith in your abilities and your peers. "Let's do this."

When you returned to the main backstage portion, you found techies ready to go, as well as your main cast. You caught Younghoon's eyes, silently asking for him to round up Eunwoo while you got Sana and Miyeon. Quickly, the five of you met in the middle.

"Everyone feeling okay?" You asked them, making eye contact with each and every one of them.

There was a buzz about the air, both nervous and excited. You could feel it in the way your hands shook, but you reminded yourself this was what you lived for. Someone, probably Chan, gave you the one minute warning.

"We're gonna do great out there," Younghoon affirmed.

"And when in doubt," Miyeon chimed in, "just improvise."

A small chuckle rang out, and you could hear the countdown in your ear. You had to go out on stage and greet everyone.

"Okay, I got my cue," you said to them. "Break a leg, everyone. Chins up, alright?"

"You too, Yn," Younghoon said to you with a pointed look.

A smile graced your face then, and something settled within your chest—finally—something like a calm. "I will."

— ✶

The only reason why Hyunjae knew how expensive flowers were was because he was well-versed in the nature of presenting you with them after each production you'd completed, whether that be through theater or film. It was all standard practice, and he couldn't believe Sunwoo had the audacity to argue with him and his girlfriend about when to send flowers backstage.

Flowers were to be withheld from reaching the actor, staff, or director until the end of the performance. It was just one of those other superstitious things.

So here he was, sitting shoulder to shoulder between Juyeon and a stranger, with a lap full of vibrant blooms in what he thought were the best seats in the house: the lower balcony seats. They were probably his favorite place to get a proper view of the stage while also not being as high as the top balcony and seeing the top of actors' heads. Maybe it was the child in him that liked anything concerning the balcony.

The play had been going strong for the entire run time. You had come out on stage at the very beginning to welcome everyone and thank them for coming tonight. All the relevant information about the play could be found in the playbills that were handed out at the door, and he had instinctively flipped through each page until he could confirm your name and Younghoon's were there. That had definitely brought a smile to his face.

But even now, as the play was coming to an end and the main characters ended up happy together, Hyunjae still couldn't get the smile off his face.

At curtain call, all the actors lined up on stage to take their bows. When you came out to gesture to your acting peers and take your own bow, everyone in Hyunjae's row, especially himself, stood to give you the standing ovation you deserved. Hyunjae's eyes watered as he whooped and cheered and whistled as loud as he could since the flowers made it difficult to clap.

As he and everyone else sat back into their seats, he had to sneak a hand up to delicately wipe his right eye.

"That's my best friend," he said to no one in particular, his laugh watery but proud.

The woman next to him heard him, though. "She's incredible."

Hyunjae smiled at her, then turned his head toward the stage again where you were corralling the main cast in a massive hug onstage. "I know; she's amazing." I love her.

— ✶

The entire performing arts hall was in a state of utter pandemonium. Both the auditorium and the backstage areas were swarmed with people trying to get out of the building, trying to find their friends, and a butt load of other things. You and all the cast members began helping backstage crew take everything down and lock them up; after all, they would need to be preserved for the next two performances of the show that would carry on through the first couple of weeks of summer. Opening Night was only the "presentation" of your thesis.

Tomorrow was Commencement Day—there were a great handful of you graduating literally tomorrow, including yourself, and so you'd all resolved to go home and save the celebration for another night.

As you wandered through the corridors and dressing rooms, you were sure to congratulate everyone for their hard work tonight. Your cheeks ached from smiling, pride singing through your blood, as well as the lingering adrenaline. But you couldn't deny that you were relieved that the night had gone, and gone well.

Friends and family members of the cast and crew began trickling into the backstage area, so the space to roam lessened considerably.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjae had rushed back here faster than his friends could stop him, antsy to finally congratulate you and let you know how proud he was and how great the play was. He craned his head over the sea of people, half his bouquet no doubt squished, but he was still determined.

There—he spotted the blazer you wore on stage—but you were all the way at the end of the corridor. There was no easy way through the people, and who knew if you would leave before he could get to you.

"Yn!" He hollered over all the noise.

Like clockwork, your head whipped around from the stagehand you were speaking animatedly with in search of who had called your name. You locked gazes with him, and there was a softening in your features.

(In a crowded room, all I'd see is y—)

His heart leapt and his legs jump-started into high gear, murmuring out sorries as he maneuvered his way toward you. There were tears pricking at his vision; he never cried for anything or anyone, but you'd been the only one to draw such emotion from him. You were the only one who deserved that emotion.

"Jae, you're here," you breathed out, but then somebody tapped your shoulder and nodded in the direction from which you came.

He saw the concern on your face, the sense of responsibility, and yet the reluctance, as well. "Call me when you're done," he said. He mustered a smile, pushing the flowers into your dumbfounded hands. "Promise to call me."

You managed to nod. "Yeah," you swallowed, "thanks for coming tonight."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

EPISODE THIRTEEN: ALL THE WORLD'S OUR STAGE

A couple of hours later, you'd managed to express your gratitude to nearly everyone and their mother for their work and help, as well as convince Jihyo to answer any calls that came in regarding the play tonight. It was a big ask and you had been reluctant to ask that of her, but you also knew you needed to talk to Hyunjae.

You made your way out the back door of the performing arts hall and into the warm, early Summer night. There weren’t too many people still around since the only handful of people left in the performing arts center were all older staff members and faculty. You spotted Hyunjae leaning against the wall by the staircase, his gaze lifting from his phone when he sensed you coming toward him. A small smile curled onto his lips, and you realized how much you missed the sight of it.

“Hey, sorry you had to wait for a while,” you said as you approached.

He tucked his hands into his pockets. “No, don’t worry about it. The play was—it was incredible, Yn. I’m really proud of you.”

Those words struck you even harder than you imagined him saying he loved you back would have. It meant a lot coming from other people, but it meant the most coming from him. “Thanks,” you rasped, the emotion shining through your voice, and you had to consciously reign yourself in. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, and I know that my confession was kind of unexpected.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for that, Yn,” he said gently, his teeth biting down on his lower lip slightly. “I’m the sorry one. I mean, it was so stupid that I even entertained the idea of Ellie being remotely correct. It was a breach of trust and I crossed a boundary that I shouldn’t have. For that, I’m so sorry.”

You motioned to the path leading down the stairs and toward a path even you knew not where it would lead the two of you tonight. Hyunjae heard your silent suggestion, and the two of you began descending the stairs together, side by side. “Maybe I thought I wasn’t ready at that moment,” you confessed, “but maybe it was what needed to be said, you know?”

When you glanced over at him, you found that he was already looking back at you, clinging onto every word that came out of your mouth.

Your heart rate was still rocketing into the atmosphere right now, but you knew that it wasn’t from the play. “I think that I needed to say that—no matter if I was ‘ready’ or not. I don’t think I would have ever been ready, but…” Your foot hit the bottom step of the stairs, and you turned on the ball of your feet to face him, guiding the two of you down the path and away from your normal direction toward the bus station. “Before you say anything, just hear me out, okay?”

Hyunjae gave a nod, and your heart stuttered in your chest as you forged onward. “You don’t have to affirm my feelings if you don’t feel the same way,” you said, returning to your normal position at his side, “I think that was why I’ve been so afraid of telling you all this time—that you wouldn’t feel the same. That, and the fact that I was scared that telling you would absolutely wreck our friendship like it did these past few weeks.”

From beside you, Hyunjae managed to keep quiet, but his voice was also jammed inside his throat. It was filled up with all the things he’d wanted to say to you first, all the things that he wanted to say in response to what you were telling him now.

“Ellie confronted me the week after our fallout.” Hyunjae stiffened—had she done anything to you? “She told me that she was the one behind all the ‘pranks’ or whatever throughout the play rehearsals.”

“Yn, those weren’t pranks,” Hyunjae couldn’t help but cut in, “it was plain sabotage.”

Sabotage. You’d come to fear labeling her actions with that word, simply because you didn’t want to believe that that was her true intention. You struggled to swallow, stopping in the middle of the walkway. The two of you faced each other then, his eyebrows pressed together in shock and anger and every emotion in between. “She told me she did it to get back at me.”

“For what?”

“I abandoned her,” you told him. That emotion on his face shuddered like ripples in a pool of water. “It’s neither of your faults either, but I guess what I thought was drifting away from her and becoming closer to you, she saw in a more malicious light. And she said that she’d been sick of living in my shadow despite not even being in my life, and I’ve just been thinking about that for a while.” You said you’d be there for her, that she’d always be enough for you… how ironic that you’d been the one to drift away.

Hyunjae peered at you, a mess of things going through his head. You couldn’t imagine what he was thinking about right now, but you knew he was never the best at expressing his emotions and vulnerabilities.

It was okay, though. He didn’t have to say anything. “In that moment, I cut off all ties with her,” you clarified, “when she told me it was all her doing. Now, I just feel a little sad; I wished she would’ve just said hi to me.”

Hyunjae wet his lips, grasping your shoulders to get your attention. “You know you didn’t deserve any of that, right? All that shit she gave you? I mean, she pretty much terrorized you, Yn, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

You wondered—no, you knew—he was probably beating himself up inside for the argument the two of you had, too. The combined force of all of those tough conversations, as well as the pressure from the play… “I’m okay, Jae,” you reassured him. This time, you even believed what you said. “I’m shaken, no doubt, but it’s something that will pass with time.”

In this lighting, he was beautiful, ethereal. The amber streetlight casted a heavenly glow upon him, and made his eyes glimmer like the moon off a still body of water. You’d written something like that description somewhere in the original script, and you realized just how intimately you’d projected your reality into the lines of that production. Perhaps one day, you’d have the strength to point them all out to him.

A thought suddenly occurred to you in the silence, and your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Oh my god.”

“What? What’s wrong—”

“I never got to see your finalized capstone project!” You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth in scandal. “Shit, the showcase for it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Oh shit, I’m awful—” For as supportive as Hyunjae had been with your final project, you had neglected to even think about his thesis these last weeks. Guilt coursed through your body in waves and you wanted to screech—

“Hey, honey,” he chuckled good-naturedly, “it’s okay. You were busy; don’t sweat it.” He bit his lip again, but it did nothing to suppress the shit-eating grin on his face. “Wanna go see it now? I’m sure they haven’t cleaned everything up yet.”

Your heart skipped for a new reason now. “You’re gonna break into the architecture building?” You laughed.

“It’s not breaking and entering if you have access,” he said in a “duh” tone, waving around his student ID.

As the two of you made a swift reverse back up the stairs from which you’d come from, you gaped at his ID card in disbelief. “I can’t believe they gave you clearance.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. “Why wouldn’t they grant their top student clearance on his last week?” He sniffed jokingly.

The pairing of dialogue and execution made a giggle sputter out of you, the sound making Hyunjae’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. He hated the tension that had wrapped itself around the bones of his ribcage, but those vines were slowly loosening and blooming into something familiar, and yet new.

The trek to the architecture building was well-worn by both you and him. You hadn’t been by the architecture building in awhile because of your busy schedule, but you used to always pop by to either walk him to lecture or to come visit him while he was working. The building was built in a Greco-Roman style with columns and arches, and beautifully carved marble murals and statues around the perimeter of the roof. You knew that the building style in particular was never Hyunjae’s taste, but you remembered when the two of you had toured the school in your senior year of high school, he had been awestruck nonetheless.

Just as he had said it would, his ID card slid against the panel outside the front doors to the architecture building and came up green.

The two of you, feeling just like you were kids again, giggled as you crept into the darkness of the foyer. Hyunjae grabbed your hand without thinking and dragged you down the right hallway toward one of the larger conference-style classrooms on the ground floor. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in case security came by and saw, but there was a conveniently-placed streetlight right outside the window anyway.

“There’s my masterpiece,” he said quietly, a sort of jitteriness coming through his voice.

You let go of his hand so you could inspect the model he constructed. The feature piece seemed to be the massive clear dome on the top, as well as the smaller, surrounding establishments. “It’s amazing, Jae. This is so cool.”

He almost looked shy as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest and watched you. “Ah, thanks. It’s, uh, a proposed model for a new performing arts department.”

Your head turned to him then. “No way.”

“Yes way,” he smiled. “I don’t know if it’ll get taken up by the board or not, but I gave them my whole spiel yesterday.”

“You’re gonna give me the spiel, too, right?”

Hyunjae made a face, feigning reluctance, but you were already dragging one of the chairs over so you could sit for his little presentation. “I mean, I guess I remember enough to do it again.” He took up his rightful place right next to his model, in front you, and cleared his throat to give you his speech.

The speech went wonderfully; you cheered as quietly loud as you possibly could. Your face was split by a bright smile that you were sure was enough to power the lights in this building if you really wanted to. If the board didn’t take up Hyunjae’s proposed new model after that, then you were about to send a strongly worded letter to the dean.

Hyunjae took on a boyish sort of smile after the moment had come and gone. “Hey, you wanna see something cool?”

“Cooler than this?”

“Pfft,” he dismissed nonchalantly, “you flatter me. But yeah, actually. Come on—it’s on the second floor.”

You quickly shoved your chair back into place and followed Hyunjae as he practically ran out of the room and up the stairs to the second floor. He had far too much energy for it being around ten o’clock at night, but when you saw the absolute glow on his face when he took you from project to project, gushing and nerding out about all the clever designs, you didn’t have the energy to even question his energy. There was something utterly contagious about hearing him talk about his major with such passion; you were so glad he had found a home in this field.

When the two of you finally let yourselves out of the architecture building, it was probably around an hour later. Your body ached with exhaustion, but your brain was abuzz with activity. You had missed this, missed him so much. For the first time in a very long time, you had never felt this carefree before.

“Can you believe we’re actually graduating tomorrow?” You asked him as the two of you walked toward the direction of the street your town house was on.

Hyunjae snorted. “No, not at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “Well, I’m actually so glad that I’m finally getting out of here, but it’s kind of scary, too.”

You gave a nod, then tilted your head back to breathe in the comfortable, night air. There were stars up in the sky tonight. “Yeah, I get that. Like, where will we all be, y’know?”

“Right.”

“But I think that the unknown in general will always be scary,” you added. “In the end, we’ll always know that everything will turn out okay.”

“And if it’s not okay, then it isn’t the end yet,” Hyunjae replied with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” You had a few options lined up for you after graduation, but you’d told yourself beforehand that you would deal with all of that after commencement day. After months and years of working nonstop, you deserved a little rest before fully stepping into the adult world. Wow, what a scary thought, indeed. "I'm proud of you, Hyunjae."

He had to stop himself from breaking down right there. "I'm proud of you, too, Yn."

The walk home was quiet, but it was as if a layer of film had been laid over just you and Hyunjae. The white noise of the night became somewhat calming for you, and you felt yourself sinking into a state of serenity. You had confessed your love for him already—he finally knew how you felt—but funny enough, that was freeing.

That had been your biggest secret, and finally being able to lift that burden from your chest was… it was good. Everything was good now.

Hyunjae softly said, "I know that you probably have so much to do after graduation tomorrow, but we've always wanted to go on a road trip cross-country."

When you looked up over at him, he could read the excitement glittering in your irises. "You're right! Man, that conversation was so long ago. I mean… I won't be so busy after graduation, not immediately. I want time to enjoy freedom with you," you laughed, lightly punching his shoulder.

He chuckled, your words soaking into his skin like sunlight on the first warm day after a harsh winter season. "I think it'd be nice, just the two of us." He couldn't wait.

There was an earnestness in the way you looked at him then. His thoughts had been all over the place before, but now, they were beginning to clear. "I think that'd be nice, too."

Your townhouse was now in sight, and a distinct feeling of anxiety rose in his throat. It was bitter-tasting, the way he dreaded leaving you for the night even if he would most definitely see you again tomorrow. He didn't know why inviting himself in like he usually did was so difficult now, but suddenly, you were both standing in the middle of the entryway and you were getting your keys from your bag.

It was late; he shouldn't keep you up. You'd had a long day.

"—you tomorrow then. Thanks for tonight, Jae."

He wrapped his arms around you just as you hugged him, his face pressed against the crown of your head and yours pressed into his shoulder. He didn't want to let go, but it was late—

"Good night," he said, nearly inaudibly.

"'Night," you said, going into the house and closing the door.

Maybe it was the physical, literal visual of you closing the door on him, but the epiphany hit him like a bus.

EPISODE FOURTEEN: AAAND THAT'S A WRAP!

YOU were about five steps from dropping to the floor and sleeping for about five years. Of course, you could not do that because you literally had to wake up to graduate tomorrow, but right this moment, you were so excited to just face plant into your pillow.

Tap!

The first time, you hadn't even heard the tiny noise as you shuffled into your attic bedroom and set your bag on the floor at the foot of your bed.

TAP!

Actually, you hadn't even heard it the second time—

BONK!

"What the…" Your head whirled around toward the window. You could have sworn you heard something hit the window pane. Cautiously, you walked up to the glass and peered out into the darkened street. It was a little difficult to see given the contrast between the light of your bedroom, the dark of night, and the fogging acrylic pane—

You nearly screeched as a small pebbled hit the window, right where your face would have been. What the fuck—?

Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Could this have been Ellie trying to spook you again? No way, right? Plus, wasn't Hyunjae just walking by?...

Oh, wait.

With a huff of indignation, you wrestled with the latch on the window pane just as another tiny rock came flying at the glass. "Hold your horses," you muttered, finally managing to haul the dusty window up. You only ever really opened this window during the warmer months, and so you hadn't used it since probably late fall quarter.

You stuck your head out the window, and surprise surprise, Hyunjae was tossing another piece of ammo up and down in his palm, down at street level. "What is wrong with you?" You stage whispered.

His mouth curved into a frown, head tilting, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"What," you repeated firmer this time, "is wrong with you?"

"I needed to get your attention," he shrugged.

"You couldn't just text?"

"Isn't this what Romeo did?"

Clearly, someone hadn't been paying attention when you were studying for your classes on Shakespeare in both high school and second year of college. "No," you quipped, "and Romeo was stupid."

Hyunjae sighed, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, dropping the pebble in his hand to the ground. "Okay, so maybe I'm not some Romeo—" You weren't quite sure where he was going with this.

He started walking around, pacing the sidewalk in front of your townhouse since he couldn't stand directly below the window (your roommate would kill him if he killed her azaleas). For a moment, you were ready to go down there yourself and shake the words from him, but it seemed he was able to snap himself into focus.

"I just… it's taken me a long time—god, it always takes me a long time to come up with the words for this type of stuff," he stumbled over his words, and you felt yourself grow increasingly tender. He was never good at wearing his heart on his sleeve. "And my friends have been saying it this whole time—hell, I've probably been aware of it unconsciously this whole time, too! But you know how I am. I'm too damn stubborn to cave, even to myself."

You let him continue on without breaking his monologue. Though you couldn't be too sure what this was, your heart still galloped in hope.

"Yn, I'm—" he said, head tilting back to meet your eyes so you could see those beautiful irises of his, "—I'm in love with you, too."

This was really happening, huh? Your fingers curled around the window sill and you opened your mouth in an effort to say something, but then you closed it. The words and the thoughts were there, but it was so foggy in your mind that you couldn't even string the words together yourself either.

You watched the hope, the light, gradually fade from his expression, even if he wasn't actively trying to show it. "Please tell me to go home if you're not gonna say anything," he said to you next. "I know you're tired, but god, I just stood here and realized I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't tell you. I know it's selfish, but…" He lifted his hands in sort of a helpless gesture, his hands then falling limp at his sides.

Finally, you found your voice. You cleared your throat, then asked quietly, albeit a tad nervously, "This—this isn't just because you feel bad about what I said about not reciprocating, right? I mean, higher levels of excitement and arousal can be misattributed to feelings sometimes—"

Hyunjae shook his head. "Dear god, no. I've just been… I've just been really stupid, so, uhm, maybe I am like Romeo?"

You fought the smile on your face, but it seemed you lost the battle. "Silly goose," you teased, laughing as you shook your head. "You ain't no Romeo, Lee Jaehyun, but I've never wanted anyone but you anyway."

He broke into a laugh at that, the sound echoing in the streets, and it sounded like, if one could bottle up pure delight and release it to the world. "You're so much better at this than me."

"Clearly."

"Well," he bit his lip, his smile impish, "can I kiss you to make up for it?"

Oh, there went your heart—there it went, carrying you down the stairs and out the door—you would have leapt out the window if you were physically able (you weren't). Your heart carried you all the way outside again until you arrived in your best friend's arms, his face, his smile illuminated in the soft glow of the streetlight.

And he held you so tight, you couldn't tell if that beating at your chest was his heart or yours. The two of you wasted no time in pressing your mouths to the other, tasting the other's smile in one more way than you'd ever done before.

It felt, at that moment, that this might have marked act three of one part of your life—but act one of the next was just beginning.

Perhaps it was true then: when it counted, you always went back to your first love.

a/n: heyy thank you for reading thru!! i hope u enjoyed and if u did, pls do consider commenting, reblogging, or sending an ask :] we do love a bit of humility in the end ayo :3 the original plan is to go for sunwoo's next o7

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ethereal-engene @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @jcmdoll @kflixnet

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[in-every-reality]

Antics After Dark

~You and Tam are at Foxfire for late-night shadowflux training with Lady Zillah, back to your usual hall-roaming shenanigans. Though, you can’t help but notice Tam seems to feel a bit differently.

{Reader is: relatively neutral; a Shade; shorter than Tam; implied to be from Forbidden Cities. {Timeline: when Sophie and Fitz are in the Healing Center after Umber’s attack

{Tropes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, confession, training tension {Warnings: kissing, some swearing, mentions of violence (from the Neverseen), mentions of Reader having a scar from a previous fight, slightest bit of angst

{Word Count: 2195

“[Y/N], I’m serious!” Tam’s face betrayed his words, whitened teeth breaking out into a smile, a shine of mischief and maybe something else in his silvery eyes—a look that you could’ve sworn added another thousand years to your indefinite Elvin life. “Lady Zillah might actually get upset this time.”

“Come on, Tam,” you pleaded, tugging his sleeve gently. “We’re technically not doing anything wrong. As long as we find some shadowflux before we come back, we’re fulfilling our training —this is just a little… detour.”

The two of you have once again been sent out to seek the most potent patches of shadow in Foxfire’s halls, needing to further familiarize yourselves with using the unruly element of shadowflux. As a cure for the boredom and tiredness of late nights on campus, you two have gotten into a routine of wandering a little on your own — occasionally finding your way into the teacher’s lounge and accidentally snatching a few snacks.

“Little? We took well over twenty minutes last time.” The boy shoved his hands into his pockets, squaring his jaw in resistance to the smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, well, we won’t get lost this time,” you said, though you knew it was basically guaranteed with the sheer size of the school.

Tam raised an eyebrow. “You say that every time.” He closed his eyes, letting out a short sigh. “With everything happening, we need to focus more than ever. We’re the only people in the group who might have a damn chance against the Neverseen’s Shade, I just don’t feel like we should be messing around.” The boy’s eyes met yours again, and you could see the sincerity in his gaze—something rare for him. However, there was something else there too.

You sucked in a breath. “Alright, what’s wrong?”

“I- nothing’s wrong, I just thing we need to start taking this seriously.” Tam ran his hand through his black hair, his bangs falling back into his eyes.

“Are you hearing yourself?” You crossed your arms. “In the almost two years I’ve known you, you’ve barely ever cared about taking shit seriously. Something else is going on with you.”

He broke eye contact, glancing to the side. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just sick of watching everybody get hurt,” he conceded, his voice lowered to a softer tone. He didn’t meet your eyes, his stare locked on the ground. A few seconds of a tense silence passed. “And anyway, the less time we waste here, the faster we can both leap home and get some rest, yeah?”

“I don’t rest anymore, Tam. I’ve been perpetually exhausted for weeks. I hardly ever sleep these days, and I know you don’t either.” Your voice was strained, and your nails dug into the fabric of you cape. Before he could respond, you kept going. “You think I’m not taking this seriously? I’ve been taking this seriously for over two years, since I got into this in the first place. The Neverseen is screwing us all over, and fifteen minutes running around instead of looking for an element that hardly listens to us anyway isn’t going to change that.��� You took a few shaky breaths, heat rushing to your face in realization of what you’d just said, how immature it must have sounded. “Forget it. You’re probably right. We need to focus now more than ever, I don’t know what I was thinking. We’ve found enough shadowflux, we should head back—”

“Don’t,” Tam cut you off, stepping forward. His silver-blue eyes scanned your face, landing on the dim bags beneath your own. “Lady Zillah can wait like every other night. Come on, you need this.”

You hesitated, resting your own hand atop the one holding your arm. “Tam, you don’t have to do this, I know you really want to stay on track.”

The boy turned to face you, loosening his grasp ever so slightly. “I want to do this. You’re right, we deserve a little fun.” Leaving you no time to protest, he grabbed your wrist gently and nodded down the hall. “I’m pretty sure there were some extra Mooncakes in the Mentors’ Lounge.”

He knew the pastry was irresistible to you, one of your favorite elvin foods. With a sigh, you agreed.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “We’ll be back on task in fifteen, promise.”

Tam grinned as he practically dragged you forward, your stumbling footsteps and soft giggles echoing down the maze of halls.

~

“Damn, that was so worth it.” Tam closed his eyes, swallowing his last bite. “I don’t know why I thought of skipping this.”

You covered your mouth as you laughed, walking alongside him in the dim hallway. “I’m sorry I was kind of selfish back there. I guess I was just tired of… well, everything that’s been going on, really. Just wanted to get away from it all for a little, ya’ know?”

“It’s not selfish to need a break every once in a while. You’ve risked life and death for everybody on this team, you deserve a breather. And maybe a snack.” He glanced down at you, nudging your side gently. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked a bit closer. “Wait.”

“Hm?” Your body went tense as he brought his hand to your face, quickly brushing a crumb off of your lip with a swipe of his thumb. He paused, your eyes meeting for a few heartbeats. “Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, releasing a breath at the absence of his touch.

“Mhm,” he hummed. Though the lighting made it hard to tell, you swore you could see a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

The two of you walked slower in a comfortable silence, content to just be in each other’s presence for a little while. It was another few minutes before Tam spoke up again. “And I’m sorry I’ve seemed so tense lately. I’m just sick of everybody getting hurt. ‘m sick of watching you guilt yourself for being ruthless in training, then going off and nearly sacrificing yourself at every chance you get when the Neverseen show up…” The boy trailed off as his gaze made its way to your shoulder.

It was hidden by your tunic, but you knew he was looking at the scar left when you hit the ground during the Neverseen’s last run-in. You couldn’t help but grimace at the reminder, the bruised spot on your arm still slightly aching. The mark might never fade. “Is that what this is about? Tam, I’m fine. Stop worrying about me.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Tam whispered, so softly it’s a wonder you caught it. “You know I can’t stop worrying about you, because I can’t stop thinking about you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth like a bullet train, his face going scarlet as he seemed to realize what he’d just said. Both of you slowed to a halt in your steps. “I-I’m sorry, that just came out… I—”

“Tam.” You turned to look up at him. “I know,” you whispered.

Tam swallowed, nodding hesitantly. He pivoted to face you. “Then, can I…?” His voice lowered to a near-whisper, his tone laced with… vulnerability. “I’ve wanted to tell you, like, forever, but there was just never a good time, and…” His eyes met yours, and for a moment, all his words faded away.

You nodded, wringing your hands. “You can tell me now. I’m listening.”

The boy took a cautious step forward, as if he was testing whether you’d move away. When you didn’t, he stepped closer, taking both your hands in his. “Okay. Then… I’m just gonna leave everything here. 

“I’d run around these halls every night with you to see you happy for a few minutes; I volunteer to spar with you all the time just for how damn proud you look when you improve, when you pin me like it’s nothing; I could listen to you go on about your favorite human thing for days.”

Your eyes locked with his, and your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his silver-blue stare.

“I’m praying on all I have that I’m not misreading this, but I swear there’s something in the way you look at me, too.”

He wasn’t wrong. You couldn’t help it. No matter how attractive elves were as a whole, you’d never get used to just how pretty this boy was.

“I know it’s stupid, I know we have bigger problems — but I don’t care. I look at you, and you’re all that’s happening. I really like you, [Y/N]; and I’m sorry if that makes our friendship awkward, but I don’t want to just be friends.” Tam’s voice had a slight rasp to it, a crack in the crystal, showing he was far more scared about this than he wanted you to believe.

You looked down at where his hands held yours. Heat ran down your neck, and you attempted to will away the anxious sweat. “I… like you, too.” Your voice came out shakier than you would’ve liked.

He let out a breath, his eyes seeming almost dazed. “Okay… okay. That’s good. That’s…okay, yeah.” He laughed softly, a nervous sound. “I honestly didn’t plan to get this far.”

A smile pushed its way through your teeth as you listened to his hesitant words. You ran your thumbs gently over the back of his hands.

“Can I try something? I mean, you can say no, I just–”

“Of course,” you cut him off, your voice soft, but more sure of yourself.

He blinked — once, twice — as if processing your consent. “Oh. ‘Kay, great. Um…” Screw it. He finally decided to desert any attempt for words, letting impulse take the lead as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

It was gentle, soft; but you could feel the wall of emotion behind each careful movement. His hands let go of yours, coming to rest at your waist. You grazed his cheek with your knuckles, part of you almost scared to make any drastic movements, scared this would all shatter if you held on too tightly. It was a short kiss — over too quickly. You gasped as he pulled away, cold air meeting your lips and snapping you back to reality.

“Was that okay?” Tam whispered, his tone growing in confidence. His eyes sparkled, his chest rising and falling with each slow intake of air. A smirk tugged at the side of his mouth as he scanned over your face.

“Yes, yeah, that was… amazing.” Your face was still warm from the contact, heart pounding in your chest with the thrill. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Fuck, yes.” His face reddened as the words fell from his lips, dripping with desperation. “I mean… sure, if- if you want…” He glanced away, silver bangs falling just over his eyes.

The eagerness caught you a little off guard coming from him, but you happily took the invitation. You placed your thumb on his jaw, turning his head back to look at you. Arms coming up to wrap around his neck, you pulled him down into another kiss.

His arms snaked further around your waist, tugging you closer with a sort of urgency he’d never shown before. Before you could register the movement, you felt the chill of smooth metal through your tunic; your back was to the lockers, one of Tam’s forearms beside your head, caging you in. The other remained just above your hip, fingertips trailing lazily along your back.

You pulled away for a moment of air — 

“Tam! [Y/N]!” Linh’s voice echoed down the hall. “You guys done yet? Lady Zillah said it’s been more than enough time to work with whatever you’ve found,” she called. Her voice sounded relatively far away, but if she was shouting distance, you didn’t have much time.

“Right,” Tam muttered, stepping back with a shuddering breath. “Almost forgot what we were here for.”

You took a few deep breaths to catch yourself, but you could still feel heat rise to your face when you looked at him again. “So… what now?” you whispered, smoothing out your top and hair.

“Can I be yours?” he said abruptly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Your boyfriend, your partner, whatever you want to call me, just yours. It won’t interfere with beating the Neverseen. We won’t get sidetracked, and we don’t have to worry about the Neverseen using us against each other, ‘cause they’re after us already either way. Besides, neither of us have ever cared about the stupid Match anyway.”

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate in your answer, a laugh of disbelief shaking your shoulders as you took in the boy before you. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Tam smiled, and in that moment, it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Without another word, he leaned forward, giving you a soft peck on the nose. “Well, that’s settled. Come on,” he beckoned, “before Lady Z yells at us again.”

Your fingers linked with his, your heart synced to your echoing steps as you strode back down the hall.

For the first time in weeks, you slept through the night.

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Thanks for reading <3

[mxflowercheck]

Adira&Tilly thing that was in my head for some time

Not beta read like AT ALL

- Hey there?

Tilly leans other a console to look at Adira. They’re curled up almost under it, hugging their knees and staring into nothing.

- Lieutenant Stamets and Doctor Culber won’t be pleased with you staying up late, you know, right? Maybe move to..somewhere they don’t work.

- You’re also staying up late - Adira mumbles, not looking up, but also not tensing or outright sassing Tilly off. That’s a good sign.

- I am, technically, not a crew member anymore. Just visiting while you’re docking. - she keeps her tone light, but allows longing to slip into it. Adira hates being belittled. - So they can scold me, sure, but…i have an escape route.

There’s a huff and then silence. Light, familiar rumble of ships systems. Tilly waits a minute, shifts uncomfortably and tries again.

- Wanna talk about it?

Adira silent for another minute, swaying back and forth a bit.

- Yes. Yes I do. - they look up, and here it is - the firm, determined stare, Adira’s signature. Tilly gives them a slightly awkward smile and sits near them, cross-legged.

- So? Venting? Gossiping? Both? One and then the other to get distracted? I can bring ice cream.

Adira giggles, still looking at the floor. Tilly can see now that their cheeks are still wet from tears. She doesn’t ask even though she wants to bury anyone who made their…well, sibling, feel like this.

- None, i guess? I…It’s about Trill. The symbiont. Gray. - they smile fondly at their boyfriend’s name. - It’s…hard.

- Yeah, i can imagine. I had a parasite in me once - not that Trill is a parasite, but you get the idea, something existing in you. Creepy as hell.

- You did? - their eyebrows shot up and they finally looked at Tilly. - W- How did *that* happen?

- Oh, long story. It’s how we got Hugh back! I tell you later. For now it’s about you - she pokes them with an elbow lightly, - not about me.

- Wow. Okay. - Adira giggles nervously, rubbing their neck. - Can i..can i ask? How did you understand you want to be a teacher?

- Pretty sure you were there. Remember? The arguing cadets, near-death experience?

- Yep, i do. - they scoffed. - I mean..after it? Like, you wanted to be a captain for years! How did you..

- Make that incredible leap? - Tilly smiles and sighs. - Will you throw a screwdriver at me if i give an inspirational speech?

- This time - no. But! - their raise a finger. - only this time.

- Okay, okay. - she laughs and leans back on the console. - I..I mean, when i think about it, I never wanted to be Captain. Shit, when Saru left me in charge..I thought I’d throw up even hours later. It was..awful. But being in charge of this group of cadets wasn’t. And i..at some point it hit me - my mom..my mom is not here. She won’t see me as a Captain. And suddenly it felt pointless. I..I didn’t want to be Captain, i wanted to prove I can. I wanted to be like famous Captains. But now…i have no one to prove this to. And i’m already brave and smart and loyal and- I can be that without being Captain. Maybe I don’t need to try to fit into these shoes, maybe I need shoes that allow me to be myself! To be Tilly. Because i want to be a lot of things I’m not. And maybe will never be. But i can be me.

Adira looks at her in silence, something mixed in their eyes. Sadness. Anger. Confusion.

- Firstly, it was actually very sad. Secondly, - they sigh, hiding their faces in their hands, - I don’t know who i am. What’s me and what’s Tal and what’s Gray’s memories. Where’s Adira. And who should i be? Like..you, you have a goal! You want to be a pretty good person. I want to.. - they stumble upon their own words, their hands shake a bit. - I don’t know.

Tilly moves closer to them, presses their shoulders together, wraps an arm around Adira, pulling them closer. Hugs always help, don’t they?

- You know what, I give up on speeches. How do you feel about a bit of music?

- Um. Fine, i guess? Why?

- There’s a song. - Tilly taps her badge, summoning the holo-PADD. - Really old. Like, it was old even in our time. But i love it, and it kinda has the message I’m trying to get to you.

She doesn’t scroll for a long time - the songs is almost on top of “recently listened”. Tilly opens the text and presses play.

I wish I was big, as big as my house

I'd sleep on the trees, I'd skip every crowd

But I wouldn't fit on my therapist's couch

God, I could really use him now

I wish I was God, I'd never trip up

And if I did, well, so fuckin' what?

I could be cruel and break all your stuff

Yeah, I'd be loved no matter what

But if I was God, it'd get kinda weird

'Cause you would only say what I wanna hear

And then you would die, you'd love me to death

I'd never know who the hell I am

I wish I was me, whoever that is

I could just be and not give a shit

Hey, I'll be whatever makes you a fan

'Cause I don't know who the hell I am

Adira listens attentively and soons gets what Tilly wanted to say. For reason it feels…gut-wrenching. It feels right. It feels like their scream, their words. They don’t notice tears running down their face. They cry shamelessly, but smile broadly, and Tilly pulls them into a tight hug, her curls everywhere, blocking the world around.

- The point is…does it matter, who you are? It’s you, Adira. And you have Paul, and Hugh, and me, and Gray.

- I can just be and not give a shit - they laugh through tears, hugging her back.

- Exactly.

[rainbowgod666]

Welcome to the Multiverse

Colors sendable (the first image is from @sizzlingcandyjellyfishhh while thesecond image is from @gaybichon), and also the @wynmu vibes thing. While the divider was made by @sister-lucifer (weird url ik but mines weirder soooo)

To all RPers: my very existence takes the narrative and uses it as toilet paper. The 4th wall is my onahole. You can use the askbox to talk to your blorbos.

To let you get started, here are some of my best posts. Remember that the Ourple ones are KINDA mandatory if you want ANY background on wtf is this blog.

List of my powers / Its the end of the world as you know it (and i did it on purpose) / an admin kicked me off the island lmao / Mental Health Time / That one time i traumadumped to mewo omori about my usual shit / PM Seymour has removed me from his internet. / You Absolute Buffoons / The Numeron Game / Well thats a thing that happened! / Out of touch: leap yeap / 🅱️usiness / Magnus did nothing wrong, except its steven universe / welcome to the internet, SCP edition / #HALLOLLAH# / AMERICA IS FASCIST HEAVEN BECAUSE FUNNY / Lost Childhoods / please save those poor gay americans / Free Disco Elysco / Bone to the bad / Priting Wrojects / the True Range of my abilities / the fuck's an apocalypse knight anyway? / @punkitt-is-here fucked Geronimo Stilton and i think its a good thing / Alex goes batshit insane and forces everyone to do as he says... again 🙄 / Screaming in a Pattern. / wizardposting: because powerscaling needed fuckign Zeno Dragonballsuper apparently / BEN 10 BUT LANCER? FUCK YEAH! / So i went batshit insane again / High Geology / fantasy settings on tumblr are really fucking cool actually / RIFLE. IS. FINE. BUT YOU FUCK UP DESIGN YOU UROD. / i technically claimed ownership of Dr. Bright and Betty from glitchtale do you seriously think im NOT gonna do that for homestuck? / XenasOuch / SCP-8000 contest, OR: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUC- / LEMMINO but like, 8 years ago / Hazbin Hotel: a necessary... something i guess. / the original joke was my brain yapping about predators sooo...

Below is who i am, and also the tags you can (and should) search for

Hi, name's Alex.

Born on the first ever day of 2005 and also having aspergers, i am a guy from italy trying to make it impossible for anyone to spend a day without knowing who i am. Also i literally trascend powerscaling so hard the only things that can even put a DENT on me are... decided by me. Welcome to the multiverse i guess.

DNI: people who support genocide, people who tolerate corporate bullshit, racists, and terfs.

The following list is ALL THE TAGS USED TO NAVIGATE THIS BLOG. Seriously. This masterpost is an explaiantion for the "portal hub" i placed in the search bar

Lore Post: sometimes the lore of the multiverse, sometimes my personal life.

Welcome to the multiverse: sometimes MASSIVE textpost telling everyone "oh yeah right, this dude has autism", usually me existing. tHE MAIN TAG.

Alex's Answering Machine: literally my asks

The magical workshop: turns out the wizards of tumblr are the reason the phrase "some of y'all have gotten too comfortable saying stuff without getting punched for it" exist. And its up to my autistic, protagonism-fueled low self-esteem high self-awareness ass to... fix shit up.

Belowstory: undertale but REALLY FUCKED UP: so basically frisk falls down and is greeted by a feminine voice that calls itself chara (it becomes slightly visible after getting out of the ruins) and like the good boi undertale character he is he proceeds to save the world. This entire thing exists because one time I was like "how fucked up OP can a sans be before its My Immortal levels of wtf?" And uh yeah here we are uuuuuuh sans greets you by pointing a .44 magnum at you so thank the head of the guards (papyrus) for saving you. Everyone here is broken and just wants A Fucking Break. Also you gain levels in pacifist because LOVE is Level Of VirtuE. Fuck you lmao

Undertale.exe: so I looked at Camilla Cuevas being an awful person. Then i looked at the beautiful anime that is @jakei95's underverse... then i smushed it all toghether to basically create the perfect AU. Frisk is a pansexual fuccboi that Has Game, Chara is THICC and powerful, Betty is built like a ballerina and is 1000 years old, and Asriel is a Streemur. All of them live in this house far away from the city thats literally a larger version of sans' house. All charachters can legally drink (prepare for Drunk Chara shenanigans where its Betty Glitchtale the drunk one instead) and the only one who (probably) isnt gay is Asriel (even though frisk covets the Dreemur Dong) (one day soldier, one day...). Many chatachters from many AUs sometimes come to visit cause, you know. Its a nice place.

Curseworld: massive writing project of mine which is just "adventure time shaped mass of autism". The world is cursed and fucked over, and everything is colorful. Its also part Owl House because fuck you the magic system is FUCKED here.

Internet friends: basically internet stereotype-shaped people. We have a furry thats normal, a reddit/discord mod that just wants to work in peace, and the protagonist is Just A Guy but a-ha! He has both an xbox an...d ps5 thus fucking over any CAD reference. The last sketch i made was a mr.monopoly shaped guy who really wants youngsters to actually AFFORD shit who is married to a very obvious reference to Meru the succubus. Also i 100% intend to put a gag about mr beast living in an ATM when he isnt making videos

Im looking respectfully: look. Back then tumblr was basically Rule 34 with twitter users. Now its way better at the cost of a fraction of their value. Have fun looking at attactive women!

TOH:NEXT GENERATION: not even @moringmark's comics are safe! Enjoy the adventures of ayzee commented by me... telling everyone that shes STRONG strong. Like holy shit girl inherited will much?

Warhammer 50k: listen. This is just me looking at games workshop and fucking emperors tts and going "fuck that. Heres mine". This is a project where my "shard" assegned to this universe basically copies the imperium because, and im not joking, "the emperor is kind of a baka, but then again tzeentch is a thing so...". Also btw TTS is canon as SHIT. Like fr its all canon. Yes even the shadowsun fling, let kitten rest.

Pluripotent Impotence: an scp canon of mine thats basically "the foundation is so cold and clinical they MASSIVELY misunderstood shit". 6140, 6500, 5500 and 7000 are canon. 2718 and 5000 are in the files but they basically might as well not exist. 3812 is living tech support. 166 is in her early 20s and 239 is 19 and they fuck nasty (theyre also childhood friends. Girl Love i guess~) because fuck you clef love wins especially yuri go snort telekill dust. 2317 loves humans and thins theyre cute and squishy and when its seventh child turned out to be fucking JoyBoy? Yeah get this: he DID condemn the fortune teller that was like "dude your sevent child is one of those prophecy children that are so in vogue these days" but also messed with fate so that her death ended up being the coolest and most inspiring shit ever because he was like "considering the average Evil King story, i might as well just... let this happen! Maybe i can convince my literal offspring to spare me!" And it fucking worked. Also a bunch of shit is canon. @i-am-dado looks like a Kpop star and is somft. Dr Jack bright is my character and mine alone and also elias shaw is there i guess. My OC bangs the first one of these 2 amulet boys on a regular basis and the second one occasionally, dont ask why is there a gay polycule when im straight, there are some things that escape my mind. I have been in SCP for a long time and regardless of me making my account 6/1/2024 (LA BEFANAH) i have been here longer than you believe in. From my perspective it took a year before a 5000 contest was announced, so fcuk yoyu

Earth-ℵ₀: the best way to take care of the DC and Marvel universes is... let an autistic dude fix damages done by money-hungry idiots in hollywood. The joker is unimportant. Dr.Manhattan is Done With This Shit. I made a squad with random charachters i like. Lmao suck on uranium rods UwU

ytposting: (Funkdela Catalogue: Encounter starts playing)

Omni-shit: ben 10 is actually a good series guys, and the reboot is an interesting way of showing what would Ben 10 Classic look like if it was made Now

1% enhancement: basically i look at something and go like "hey what if the charachters were basically part me but not in a Knights of the Apocalypse way"

Tumblr italia: aò sono italiano che cos'altro vi aspettate

components: basically i use tumblr as image hosting. LoL.

Items: images turned undertale items. For reference, i have 2³¹-1 HP and my stats are ATK 100000 and DEF 65535. Yes the attack is a yugioh zexal reference. NOSTALGIA IS PTSD BUT GOOD.

Mungeon Deshi: dunmeshi is a good anime and marcille is italian

Full Nelson Analchemist: if FMA exists in my presence im going to give the 20k mg weed gummy to Truth

Evangelion 4.0: look, hideki anno has gone insane. Every time he makes evangelion as the most brain damaging version of telling someone to go touch grass people inevitably miss the point. I take it upon myself to give the @jakei95 treatment to the poor creatures (also fun fact: KAWOSHIN CANON. THEY KISS ON SCREEN. FUCK YOU AMERICA.)

The hoes are stuck: homestuck. What you thought they were safe from my grasp? 人間 you havent seen sheiße.

FeeF the BeeB: minecraft mod bullsheiße

[[Nothing Is Worth The Risk]]: lets just say that sometimes, the multiverse isnt that "cool and good"

Ultimate Sonic: i have a Sonic AU where... uhm... just. If i have a post about that. Just look at it. LoL.

Multiverse Polls: i make tHEM-

Autistic and Artistic: (draws happily)

Side effects of reading this blog can vary between true insight into the inner workings of the universe and self-defenestration from the top of the burj khalifa.

Anyways welcome to the multiverse

Do yourself a favour and dont go out without a loaded gun.

[fountainpenguin]

Do you have any Hazel fics in the works?

I do, but none I expect to post for a quite a while.

I'm doing the Dimmadome story set-up first since Dale is the main bridge between Cloudlands and City Lights AUs (He and Hadley are the only characters who are the same in both AUs; everyone else, including Cosmo and Wanda, have completely different story directions - Poof and Peri are especially different due to aging differently - so Dale is really the only canon character who makes that easy bridge leap for me).

I guess Doug technically does too, but he's such a minor character that he hardly counts

I talked more about this in the City Lights AU Guide, but I'm doing the Dimmadome arc in the "50 Words" style all the way from Dale's childhood to Dev's young adult years. This builds the skeleton of the AU so we know where we came from and where we're going... very useful for my character profiles that would otherwise have spoilers; Dev's for example won't be posted until the end of this.

Then we'll circle back to fluffier things, including a multichapter called An Old Wish (Dev and Peri and their attempts to win Dale's love with magic), plus separate stories for the Wells family, Hazel, and her friends.

I do also have space in the 130 Prompts for her (specifically, after the next two prompts on our list), and I've loosely planned to include her there, but no promises. [Non-Cloudlands AU, obviously]

I'm doing it this way so I can outline Dimmadelphia founder history (via Dimmadome family) so I know my setting well, and I'd like to know if we're getting a Season 2 before I do much with Hazel. Due to the existence of my OC Hadley and my pre-established plan to have her marry Dale, the Dimmadome content was going to be AU from A New Wish no matter what.

With the Wells family, I might hold out until we know more about Hazel's extended family (Ex: cousins and grandparents) before I do things like make the Wells family tree. If we don't get a Season 2, I have free reign with those things, and if we do get a Season 2, then I can consider what pace I want to go.

- I don't mind populating her family with my own OCs, but I don't write many standalone one-offs; I prefer multiple works that build on each other in a single consistent canon. I want to be thoughtful about what I "lock myself into" writing for the next however many years of my life.

So, that's where I'm at. I'd like to do a pre-Dimmadelphia story for Hazel about her life before she moved... which is a topic I think Season 2 might explore.

We know she came from "the suburbs," but if they reveal she had a best friend she left behind, I'd rather write the canon character than make up one. Canon character tags will help more people find the story, and I might genuinely like the characters from her past (if any), so I don't want to spend my time and energy there while canon's ongoing.

I do have a Wells family draft I worked on during October. It's Angela-centric, focusing on her and Marcus during Hazel's early years. That said, it's a little too personal to me and I don't feel comfortable posting it to the public. Honestly, I may not ever share this one, and that's fine- I write for me.

I have several Hazel AU thoughts that I don't want to share yet because the outlines are rough (and might be scrapped), and I don't want to build false hype. I'm more likely to post these Hazel AU ideas - i.e. things that go in the Off the Rails series (for misc. AUs) - than I am to post Hazel-centric works in City Lights AU right now.

On the topic of Hazel, I did have someone ask a while ago why I used Dev and his parents as the cover image for City Lights AU and not Hazel. I did that because:

- I'd already drawn Hazel as the cover image character for the Off the Rails series, so I wanted to draw someone different (Same reason I used Cavatina and Anti-Wanda in the 130 Prompts cover instead of H.P. and Anti-Cosmo to represent Pixie and Anti-Fairy stories, because H.P. and A.C. are the cover characters for Origin and Knots). - I wanted three character pictures for the image so I could use red, yellow, and green blob backgrounds to mimic traffic lights (to fit the city theme). - There will be many Dimmadome works early, with Hazel works posted later. Dev and his parents felt more applicable than Hazel on that particular image. - My OC Hadley marries Dale, and this is something unique to my AU. City Lights doesn't have a special world-bending characteristic, so having an OC on the image may help people identify this AU better than Hazel alone.

I've not been asked this, but it's something I want to clarify in case anyone's been thinking it: the reason why Hazel isn't on Cosmo and Wanda's relationship chart on their sideblog profiles.

- The sideblog is for Cloudlands AU content, although a profile may mention how a character changes in a certain AU. A New Wish is a spin-off show, so it's not part of Cloudlands canon. - Hazel is a City Lights AU character. Cloud!Cosmo and Cloud!Wanda don't have a relationship with her. They're godparents to Tommy and Tammy during that time (in line with the "Channel Chasers" ending). -> I drew an image of my AUs HERE to give a visual for how City Lights branches off from Cloudlands (and where other AUs exist in relation to it). - I imagine Hazel does exist in Cloudlands AU, but she'll never be mentioned because she's a spin-off character. A New Wish is not canon with Cloudlands AU. -> She's there in the same way Viv and Roy are there: Technically they exist because I included them on the Turner family tree, and they might appear in a family reunion story, but "Fairly Odder" isn't canon in Cloudlands AU. -> In my timeline, Antony is born shortly after time is unfrozen. I opted for Angela and Marcus to be in a long-term honeymoon phase with no non-aging babies to care for. -> Hazel is born around the time Tammy and Tommy are, but I don't plan to include her because we don't know where she was born. If we find out she was born in Dimmsdale, then she'll possibly appear in Cloudlands AU, but only in her early years. Cloud!Cosmo and Wanda don't move to Dimmadelphia.

tl;dr - I do have Hazel thoughts in my head, but I don't expect to post them soon.

Thus far, she's appeared in my posted work "50 Words of Dev and Hazel." I'd like to do more relationship studies (Namely "50 Words of Hazel and Antony" & "50 Words of Wells" for their family, plus "50 Words of Hazel, Jasmine, and Winn" or individual stories for their duos), but I'm waiting for Season 2 news so I can decide if I want to use its canon.

-> Season 2 might also bring us more info on Wells and Jasmine's families, so I can write sleepover stories and house visits using canon family members instead of creating OCs. I don't mind creating OCs, but I'd be sad if I loved the canon characters and had already written Tran & Harper family stories that exclude them (or if they have single parent, stepfamilies, or adoption plotlines I want to explore).

-> It was an easy decision not to keep the Dimmadomes close to canon because I had a pre-existing OC married to Dale, and the OC is obviously not going to appear in canon. Thus, I didn't mind not waiting for Season 2 news to plan their family relationships. My Dimmadome works are helping me shape Dimmadelphia and its history before I add Hazel and her friends' families, but I do plan circle back to Hazel and the Wells family when I'm ready.

- Obligatory reminder that Cloudlands AU is my primary AU and is much higher priority than my City Lights works.

I do have some Hazel ideas that excite me, but I can only write so many things at once, so we'll get there when we get there. Some Hazel things might be posted in Off the Rails before I do stuff with her in City Lights.

[loveinhawkins]

oh right! okay, here we go! so we get Eddie's pov of Steve's wake-up (obviously, it's in his pov entirely and he was right there), but of course we don't know how Steve experienced it--and there's a pretty big stretch of time between that and the next morning, when Eddie next sees him. I guess this one is kind of a two in one ask? because we also don't know how much Steve was acting better than he felt, or how much effort it was taking, especially that first morning after they ran who-knows-how-many tests on who-knows-what.

ooo! okay yeah Eddie’s POV means he misses quite a bit here.

So Steve deliberately sends Eddie away & while that’s partly motivated by him kinda compartmentalising & thinking ‘wow what a traumatic situation… for Eddie’ rather than processing all that he’s gone through (also just Steve being observant in general,seeing that Eddie’s reached his emotional limit & needs to see Wayne), there’s also, like, a proudness to Steve in that he doesn’t want anyone to see him at his lowest, which Eddie sort of picks up on when he sees him later:

Steve is sitting up as straight as he can, like he’s proving a point. It makes Eddie suspect that, as soon as he’d left, Steve had tried to speedrun recovery while no-one was looking.

plus even though at this point Steve is trying really hard to Not Think About It All, when he’s facing the doctors alone, he gets angry, both for himself and everyone he loves that’s been affected by The Upside Down. there’s a tiny display of Steve not backing down when he later says he told them not to disturb Eddie while he was sleeping: “I kinda demanded that they didn’t wake you up. Thought it was the least they could do.”

also with the speed of the first stage of Steve’s physical recovery, it doesn’t exactly help Steve stop repressing everything because he now has a reminder that ‘well, you’ve been checked out, it’s “ordinary injuries” now technically so you should be fine’. He does still try to advocate for himself—he insists on being treated for his speech & breathing first, because above all he wants to be able to talk to his friends, but well, he’s just a nineteen year old boy & he’s faced with people who’re relieved they don’t have to deal with frantic parents at his bedside, who just want the easy route of getting this over and done with & brush him aside. (Which Joyce & Hopper are later furious about.) Eddie again picks up on this slightly:

And Eddie knows that this version of events is no doubt highly sanitised—yet even with Steve’s nonchalant delivery, he gets the impression that whatever the doctors greeted him with had been less reassuring and more, you’re out the fucking twilight zone, kid, just be grateful and don’t ask too many questions.

& yeah in my head there’s doctors & whatnot who know of The Upside Down observing Hawkins (I’m imagining that not just Sam Owens survived s2, but from Eddie’s POV that knowledge is unknown), who only leap into action when it really can’t be ignored anymore with the “earthquake.”

as for how much effort Steve was putting in to appear fine—oh, a lot. The tests that are run are basically to check that there’s no traces of The Upside Down in him after the injuries Henry’s caused—They don’t want a Will Byers 1984 situation again—and the leftover pain in his chest etc is causing flashbacks to when he was dying & couldn’t breathe. He doesn’t sleep for the whole night after sending Eddie away, stays awake for the rest of the following day until Robin and Dustin leave.

fic director’s commentary ask game

[mania-sama]

If you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them?

Thanks if you want to answer.....

Hello! Thank you so much for sending in an ask, this is so exciting!! I would LOVE to answer this question!!

I've grown and changed a lot over the years since I began writing fanfiction when I was like, ten years old. Some of the fics I'm going to list aren't objectively well-written or my best work thus far, but they still have a special place in my heart for whatever reason. This question is so fun and I actually think about this all of the time. A lot of my most popular fics are ones that I'm not particularly proud of myself, so I'll gladly take the opportunity to talk about the ones I do like!!

In no particular order:

rule #8 - otherside [Bungou Stray Dogs] -> I wrote this for my Whumptober prompt series (which currently makes up a HUGE chunk of my works right now lmao). The reason I like this so much is mainly because I really enjoyed writing it. I've always wanted to write a fic where a character's mouth gets stitched shut, but I never got / found the opportunity to do so. Then Whumptober came around. I think I executed it well enough, especially since I chose Akutagawa, who struggles with breathing on a good day. If I get to grind my favorite characters through the Whump Machine, then I'm always very happy. I guess I just like this specific trope leaps and bounds better than all of the other ones? X

with every line, a comedy [Genshin Impact] -> I had a lot of fun writing this one, too. I got to explore PTSD in a way I'd never had before, going through the eyes of someone entirely disconnected from the traumatic event but knows the person being affected by it. It's my longest completed work, too; I write mainly short one-shots, around 1-4k words on average. This was a bigger project for me, and the first long-fic I've ever finished. I also used one of my favorite albums for the fic and chapter titles, so every time I listen to the songs, I think of this fic. I just. Really love this fic. X

Dear Kaeya, Signed Diluc Ragnvindr [Genshin Impact] -> I like this fic a lot because it's stylized very differently from everything else I've written. While not being an x reader, it is technically in second person, like I, the narrator, am talking to the reader. It's written in that same "talking" way, too. So I don't use any dialogue tags or anything like that. That is all for the second portion of the fic, though. The first half is made up entirely of letters the Diluc is sending to his adopted brother. I don't write him writing the letters, it's just the letters themselves. You read it like he's talking to you, in a sense, but the reader knows it's directed at Kaeya. It was a very fun and cool way to explore a new writing convention. X

the difference between hurt and injured [Genshin Impact] -> Lots of Genshin, I know, but this was when I was starting to fully fledge as a writer. A lot of my gradual progress can be seen through these fics, and this is a really good one to use as a comparison. This is my first attempt at much more serious writing, I think. It's longer than anything I had written at the time, sitting at a nice 20k words I wrote in the span of a few days. In general, it has a lot of things I really wanted to write about: the failures of the foster care system, complex / failing relationships, and the consequences of failing to act. The title comes from something an old softball coach would say, and I hated it but I could never get it out of my head. So I used it to title the fic, and it relates very well to what happens in the fic. Diluc is the "hurt" portion; he's fine, really, but his stubbornness makes him think his wounds are still bleeding. Venti, twelve years old in this for the sake of the AU, is "injured"; he is not fine. His wounds are bleeding, and he's doing the best he can to patch it up before he bleeds out, but more keep opening and he doesn't know what to do. X

rule #13 - waterfall [Jujutsu Kaisen] -> I like this fic because of the idea, more than anything. I have a very specific image of Megumi falling into a coma after Itadori saves his soul from Sukuna. If I could write this fic a million different times, I would. I simply love this vision. I also got to talk about literature, because Itadori is reading books to Megumi. Another idea I love that I got to convey through this fic is the idea of souls being separated from their comatose bodies. It provides an interesting take on being caught between life and death. I won't lie, I was probably inspired by one of my favorite fics of all time, When I Awake. But I also think it comes from a series I read when I was younger, the Serafina series. In the last book, the main character's body gets split into three different parts: flesh, spirit, and animal. Very interesting, and I think it's stuck with me for all of these years. X

rule #17 - two sides [Genshin Impact] -> Another case of finding a new writing convention. I wanted to focus more on external and internal dialogue to be the main contributors to the story, though I'm not sure how well I achieved this goal. It's crime-focused, and I wanted to slowly reveal the information rather than it being outright known off the bat. I wanted to put these characters who obviously know and trust each other very well into a situation where all of that shatters, where one is at the complete mercy of the other's decision, where both of them are suffering from the same crime, but one of them is the suspect of that crime and the other is the main investigator. SO much fun!! X

rule #26 - gideon [Bungou Stray Dogs] -> This one I debated heavily on adding, but I'm going ahead with it anyway because I happened to realize I really, really love this one. It's just Atsushi and his backstory, but if there were no abilities. He escapes, and Chuuya and Dazai happen upon him on the road. It's simplistic in comparison to some of the others on this list I think, but I love Atsushi and I love his horribly messed-up backstory with all my heart. Along these veins, I'm going to put rule #31 - calamity [X] as an honorable mention. Another horribly messed up backstory where Atsushi stars as the tortured main character, and I happened to really enjoy writing and thinking about it. The final honorable mention is rule #15 - four aces [X] where I toy with Dazai's character, and what it would mean for him to have finally defeated Fyodor. X

Again, thank you so much for asking!! Most of my works are on Ao3, so if you're curious to read more, I have a lot there! Much love <3

[crazy56u]

In a refreshing change of pace from last season, I actually have to leave after the episode airs, so, here we go:

Last time on Quantum Leap: "Surprise, bitch, it's been three years, and Addison left your ass for some other guy!"

Meanwhile, in Vegas.

"Um, okay, I hate to bail on poker, but it's turtle time. (leaves without elaborating)"

It is bad that I briefly thought Magic was working at that jewelry store?

Ah, there's the rub: The plot started back up due to Ian breaking into the Project.

"He's been out there for three years. You can tell the time skip is an important part of the plot if we keep pretending it's 2026."

"This all feels familiar." It's almost as if it's Quantum Leap.

A good sign you're at a bank: The teller abruptly talks about three years having past.

Oh, that fucking beast of a computer...

And Ben shows how much he's learned by immediately going on break.

[And one of my biggest gripes of the revival rears its ugly head: Unless they explicitly state the exact date, we get shit. Seriously, even if it doesn't matter, just flashing the date on screen isn't that much too ask, man...]

"Quitting whatever job he has for some get rich quick scheme." ...like robbing the bank?

"There, we did 3 minutes of exposition, 2 minutes of leap, one minute of bank robbery. We deserve a commercial break."

Meanwhile, in COD.

Plot twist: In 2026, we're in the middle of World War III.

[You better fucking not, Dodgeball Boy...]

"Raise your hand if you are dead." It would be a fucking brilliant plot twist if it turned out Addison was secretly in Purgatory this whole time.

"They found him. Guess you shouldn't have flushed your wedding ring."

And meanwhile, back at the bank robbery.

Ben is about to get shot due to not knowing what a dye pack looks like.

Why does your little brother look like Dexter?

"I don't understand. What do you mean it's 2026?"

"He's been alive this whole time? You mean I flushed my ring for nothing?!"

"What do you think I should do?" "I think you should listen to your heart." "... ... ...so, like, dump you, and go back to him-" "N-not what I meant..."

Ian, you had the Imaging Chamber working last time, why is it on the fritz now?

The Pentagon pulled the Sam Beckett maneuver: "Okay, so, the leaper is missing? (yanks funding)"

"Ziggy says you need to get the bad guys out of here before the cops arrive. That may or may not require you to help finish the robbery."

Surprise, the town is poor, you have all of the money.

And here comes the cops! Now it truly is a Dog Day Afternoon.

Look, maybe if you let the hyperventilating woman leave, you will have a better chance of surviving.

"Ben, if you don't pick up that phone, everything will be fine-" "Pick up the phone, got it."

That is a skinny ass fucking revolver.

Detective Reynolds, why are you trapped in the Green Dimension?

I love how you can tell how pissed he is that Ben decided for them they were gonna start releasing hostages.

I technically called it: Hyperventilating Woman is one of the two.

"Okay, we released a woman and a guard, we can leave now, right?"

Time to get nice and cozy with a little game of "Vault Code or Broken Hand".

... ... ...did that guy faint, or did he die?

Sean looks like he can be taken out like Glass Joe. Ma'am, just clock him.

"Okay, I'm the guy with the gun, so I get to deliver the exposition."

[I have a sinking suspicion that Ben was supposed to have leapt into the sister...]

"Hey, Sean, you're doing good, don't get me wrong, but if anyone's gonna threaten your sister with a gun, it's gonna be me-" "I AM BEN SONG, YOU SHOULD BE TALKING TO ME, MY GHOST CAN GET YOU THE CODE, PLEASE DON'T SHOOT!"

Okay, Ben, you got four numbers, good luck, the Project's under arrest now!

Well, Ben, you got 10 tries, good luck! "They completely lock it after three tries!" ...like I said, good luck!

Ben, gotta admit, playing the menopause card is a bold move.

...makes sense: Three tries, the last digit is three.

"Hi, my name is Tom, and this is Addison, I say you can't arrest the Project anymore. My dad works at Government, here's a phone."

Look, to be fair, Risk is a bullshit boardgame.

"Good to see you, Addison, Ben is currently in the middle of a bank robbery."

"Look, Magic, I don't know what you have planned for the Project-" "You mean, besides what we did last season?"

"You okay?" "My brother fucking pointed a gun at me, what do you think?"

Okay, is it bad that I forgot that Ben is supposed to be a grandma?

"Come on, smile, we're robbing a bank!"

Guy, no offense, but you are a fucking idiot if you think the cops are gonna let you leave with the money.

Sean, you are a fucking idiot if this surprises you.

"(shows Ben on screen) And we're back." SUUUUUUBTLE.

"You're in the middle of a hostage situation. I'm not up to speed. "Ben's in a bank robbery. (begins shoving Addison into the Imaging Chamber)"

"Ma'am, you do know we're gonna kill the robbers if they try to escape, right?"

"... why do I feel like there's a camera in this direction?"

"So, what, now eight people die?" "...not eight total..."

And you can just fucking tell the cops refused to accept any blame for blowing up the bank.

"Hey, why does this bank look bigger on the outside?" "No, you had to call off the expansion and paint over it!"

"You got any rooms with no windows?" …a broom closet?

Okay, now they are in the office, Ben can start doing The Great Escape.

"Look, I know I'm supposed to be in my 70s, but shut up, today, I'm as fit as a 30-something from the 2020s. Let's break that wall!"

[I like to think that Raymond Lee ad-libed that bit with the wall. He just wanted to break something for fun.]

"I buried Ben, Jen. I took all of his stuff out of the apartment and buried it in the park. Everyone watched in confusion, Jen."

"I keep expecting you guys to point out how bullshit the Tom subplot is." "Look, Tom stopped us from getting arrested. This week, he gets a pass."

"Okay, everyone out- why is there a hole?"

And Sean decides to kill a man. That's how you know he completed his character arc.

"Sean, it's gonna be okay." "How?" The cops are breaking in, that's how.

"Look, either I kill myself, or I go to jail, either way, I lose!"

Sean, let your sister cover your ass.

"I won't take another step without you!" Meanwhile, Ben is thinking "Gee, why isn't Addison here for this?"

"Ian, you and I both know you lied about how you found Ben." "Jenn, we stopped a bank from exploding, and Addison and Tom have their stupid subplot. Can we just not do more plot shit today?"

[I still think the season's gonna end with Ben undoing the time skip; unless proven otherwise, Tom is a ghost to me.]

"Are you gonna tell Ben about us?" "He already knows."

"Boy, I'm sure glad I saved Sean and stopped the bank from explod- did Addison fucking leave me, is that why she never showed up?"

"Ian told me it's been three years. Yes or no, did you leave me for a Tom?"

"Ben." "…oh." And there's that dramatic reveal for ya.

And Ben does the smart thing and hits the eject button.

["Look, I know we dumped all that plot shit on your this week, but, like... next week has aliens, w-will that work? We good?"]

I had to switch to WordPad 3/4ths of the way in, that's how you know we're so fucking back.

But no, seriously, $5 even that Ben undoes the time skip.

[dissonancedance]

Worth Keeping Chapter 2

This attraction isn't part of him, it is an aberration, a mistake, this isn't what he is. In a few days, he’ll be far, far away from this problem.

CW: incest, rape fantasy, blood, underage

According to Harvey, the best thing about funerals is that no one expects the bereaved to sing along to the hymns or act like you’re praying if you look sad enough. The worst thing is that everyone else will still sing along to the hymns and act like they’re praying. Between each transition, which are long enough to prevent the elderly from feeling outpaced, Roscoe leans over to whisper to Harvey.

“She's got a heart of gold, that girl. Don't know where she gets it. Don't get me wrong – Jack and Nan were decent, God-fearing people, but, well, you know what I mean. And she’s nothing like her mother, that's for sure. You won’t ever have to worry about her turning out like that.”

Harvey considers pretending not to hear him, but knows that doing so would only make Roscoe repeat himself louder. “Are you talking about Tabitha?”

“Well I’m not talking about the fucking- the freaking first lady,” Roscoe grouses.

The new pastor– who has been there for eight years but the congregation still refers to as the new pastor– invites them all to join the choir as they sing We Praise You, O God, Our Redeemer. Harvey continues to stare at the angular, forlorn face of Christ depicted in the carving of the crucifix behind the pulpit, just as he had every Sunday for as far back as he could remember until he left for college at 17. It is, as Harvey has come to find out, despite avoiding houses of worship whenever possible, an odd thing for a Baptist church to display Jesus on the cross. It is one of many ways that Home is an alienated and alienating place. The figure itself is large, but certainly not life-sized. Actually, he can’t say that. This Jesus is about the same size as Tabitha and she’s considered life-sized, though only by the technicality of being alive.

Before the new pastor moves on to talk about the Lord’s game of giveth and taketh, Roscoe leans over again and whispers, “You know that Nan had her taking ballet lessons since she was a toddler, right? Extracurricular activity is vital for kids. It's important to keep that going.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nan never had a bad thing to say about raising Tabby. Sure, every kid makes trouble from time to time, but Tabby is a good girl. I don't see that changing either. Boys are gonna be a problem, though. She's gonna be a beauty when she's older.”

Harvey glances down at his niece seated at the other side of him. If she’s hearing what her godfather is saying, she gives no sign; all her attention is on the bullshit beginning to be shoveled on the pulpit. 

She’s already a beauty and it’s already a problem , he does not say.

When the new pastor asks that they turn their bibles to somewhere in the Philippians, Roscoe manages to fit in, “Something I've noticed about her is that she never wants to be a bother, which you’d think makes looking after her real easy, right? Wrong. Get this: I see her limping on Saturday night, and I had to get stern with her for her to tell me that she strained her knee pretty good when she was trying to help Nancy out of the tub. She didn't tell anyone, didn't want to make a fuss. Drives me nuts! You gotta be careful she's not hiding that she needs something.”

“Yeah.”

Harvey supposes that it’s nice that her godfather is excited about her. It’s a more interesting topic than baseball or the weather. The extra Xanax he took before entering the church helps him leave it at that. Then, remembering about the Xanax, he second guesses it all. Perhaps Roscoe has been talking about Tabitha because the old man noticed him looking at her so much. It wouldn’t be a far leap for anyone to guess why a child-hating bachelor would suddenly take an interest in his very pretty, very emotionally fragile, very naive niece. The old man hasn’t gotten there. Not yet. Harvey can’t let him.

The next time Roscoe leans over and starts whispering, he cuts him off by saying, “Please, Mr. Walsh, I’m trying to mourn.”

By some miracle, the old man buys it and shuts up.

Harvey escapes while the crowd is still shambling and shuffling in the pews. No one catches him glancing back at his niece as he steps out. She’s already being swarmed with sympathy, presently in the form of being crushed to Mrs. Johnson’s doughy bosom while a circle of mourners wait for their turn at the effectively orphaned child. She really is a good girl, doing her best to reach around Mrs. Johnson’s mass and pat her back as she struggles to breathe.

He stops a safe distance up the sidewalk and lights a cigarette, taking a shallow puff off it every few minutes to keep the flame alive as he watches so many familiar faces dribble out of the chapel and head towards the church hall for the reception. The Walshes eventually appear. Roscoe sees him and gestures for his wife to continue to the reception. Harvey takes a long, languid drag as the old man marches towards him.

“You don’t smoke indoors at home, do you?” Roscoe asks, grimacing in the sunlight.

“No.”

“Good. Secondhand smoke kills too.”

Harvey doesn’t comment on this non-sequitur. The old man will always take the opportunity to say something preachy whether it applies or not. 

“What day are you flying back to New York?”

“Tonight. 6:40.”

Roscoe’s grimace takes on an edge of disapproval. “Change that to Sunday night. Tabby needs more time and we need to get some stuff at Jack and Nan’s house.”

Harvey doesn’t feel the need to explain that he’s not someone Tabby should lean on for emotional support. It’s much more wise to continue avoiding discussing her at all.

“We’ll go to my parent’s house tomorrow and I’ll leave that night, then,” Harvey decides.

“You’re gonna have to start thinking about more than just what’s best for you, Harvey. Come on. Sunday.”

He drops the cigarette and stamps it out as he says, “I’m going to go back to the hotel in Omaha. What time do you need me to come over to talk about the will?”

The old man’s forehead scrunches into a deluge of folds as his eyebrows raise in disbelief. “You’re going to skip your own mother’s wake. Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

Roscoe shakes his head and sighs. “Alright, that's your choice. You should let Tabby know.” 

“No, I'm just going to go.” 

“Really?” 

“Really. I'll be at your house later anyway.” 

“Fine. Okay, we’ll be finished here in two, three hours, I'll let you know. Do you remember my address?” 

“Text it to me.” 

“Sure. Alright, Harv. We’ll see you in a few.”

The suffocating, claustrophobic feeling of Home that has been eating at him since knowing he'd be coming back becomes overwhelming as he drives to Omaha. The flat terrain stretches on all sides in monotony, each mile ratcheting that horrid familiarity. The instinctive urge to escape nags at him even in the hotel room with the curtain drawn to block out the view. He tries to distract himself with work but he can't focus. Even the air feels wrong, too open, too dry. He lies flat on the floor, stares at the ceiling, but the ceiling is here . He shuts his eyes, tries to conjure his apartment, the clean lines and sharp edges, the high gloss modernity, looking out of the windows to the extravagance of lights and buildings. That almost works. He needs something more, something stronger to flood the feeling of Home out.

“Tabitha.”

Her name falls from his tongue like a hex he casts out onto the world. He can see her lying beneath him on his bed, those darling Bambi eyes glittering with those pretty jewel tears. A warm, comforting pressure sinks low in his body. That's it . He presses his palm against his erection, coaxes himself to slip further into this feeling. She's so afraid. She should be. She will be . He unfastens his slacks, spits on his hand before he pulls out his cock. The wet friction is harsh, a poor substitute for the soft, smooth flesh he craves.

“Tabitha.”

Her neck feels good under his hands, fragile and weak like the rest of her. That fearful whimpering is lovely, it's almost a shame to silence her. He squeezes his shaft as he squeezes her throat. Her mouth gapes, desperate to suck in more air through her narrowed trachea, and he licks inside to the soft meat of her tongue. He strokes himself faster, chasing this thrill deeper, outrunning the sickening shame. Her thin legs are spread wide as he forces himself between them and he makes her watch as he presses his tip against her little goody-two-shoes cunt. She screams when he tears her open. Too young, too small. Her blood coats him, spilling hot and fast from inside her as though it's as eager for him as he is to release it. The blood of his sister, the same blood as his, taken and reshaped to belong to him as his again. Bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh.

“ Tabitha .”

His hips jerk and a groan scrapes out of his throat with each deep pulse as he cums. The frenzied pleasure recedes, but the desire she invokes is clearer, louder than before. He doesn't have to worry, though. This attraction isn't part of him, it is an aberration, a mistake, this isn't what he is. In a few days, he’ll be far, far away from this problem.

Roscoe and Barbara Walsh’s home has changed from what Harvey remembers of all those frequent barbecues and holidays that his parents would drag him and his sister to. Roscoe in his semi-retirement and Barbara in her full retirement have been busy remodeling and trading out the deplorable farmhouse and dated fake Tuscan influences for a more defined and current coastal style. It's heartening to see change occurring to Home. Even though the memory will not die, knowing that a piece of it has been killed and replaced in reality is comforting. 

He's staring at an arrangement of teal glass balls in a driftwood basket on the coffee table when he catches something odd in Roscoe's rambling about the legal responsibilities in regards to Nancy's will.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Harvey says, leaning forward to listen carefully now. “What do you mean ‘once Tabby settles in with’ me?”

Roscoe waves him off. “You know, after you enroll her into whatever school is out there and get her a primary care doctor for the health assessment, the nuts and bolts stuff.”

Harvey’s gut clenches with a cold suspicion of something he's apprehensive to confirm. “But she's living with you. You're her godfather.”

Roscoe stares at him in bewilderment, the crows feet around his eyes deepening in a squint that widens when his confusion abruptly clears into shock.

“Nancy didn't tell you!”

A headache begins to coalesce in the back of Harvey's skull. “Didn't tell me what?”

The older man leans back in his chair, watching him in astonishment before asking, “Remember when your sister came back to the house a few months after your father died and robbed it?”

Harvey swallows his impatience with this man’s annoying non-sequiturs. “Yes. Katelynn has 16 years left to serve for that and the meth.”

Roscoe nods, then carefully continues, “After that, Nancy made some changes to her will. One of those changes was to remove Katelynn entirely. She gets nothing. Understandably so. Nancy also made some changes in regards to you and Tabby. I guess losing Jack and having her home broken into made her rethink the situation Tabby would be left in if something happened to her. I'm 70 years old. There's a strong chance that Barb and I might not even live to see her reach adulthood. She's already had three parents leave her, there can't be a fourth or fifth. Nancy wanted to make sure Tabby will be cared for, so… she named you as Tabby's guardian in the event that she becomes incapable of raising her. And that event happened.”

“But I can't…” Harvey starts, then takes a breath to calm himself. “I can't do that. I'm not… I don't have room in my life to do that. I decided to never have children, there's no way that can work.”

Roscoe nods again, a solemn disappointment etched into the deepened grooves of his face. “Well. That explains the conditions Nancy set around your inheritance.”

Harvey presses against the tension between his eyebrows. “Just tell me, Roscoe.”

“Before I do… I want you to tell me why you can't take Tabby in. Is it where you live? You have a room she can use.”

“It's not that.”

“Is it money? You won't have to worry about that, there's a trust to cover anything she wants or needs.”

“It's not about money.”

“If it's about not having time, Tabby is a very mature girl, she doesn't need 24-hour supervision. You can still work late, you can still go on business trips.”

“No, Roscoe, it's not-”

“Then what is it? What's stopping you? Out of the family she knows, you're all she has left. And she's all you have left. That kid loves you, she's crazy about you, are you really going to let her down? What is so fucking important that you'd turn away a little girl who only wants to be with you?”

“It's not that simple!” Harvey snaps louder than he meant to. He hadn't meant to snap at all. Roscoe only glares at him in disgust. Harvey buries his forehead in his hands and sighs. He doesn't need him to understand, but he explains anyway, “I'm not someone who should have her. I don't know how to care for a kid. I never had to know. I never want to know. I'm not good for her. If I had her, if I had Tabitha, I… I don't trust myself enough to have her.”

“You don't have to be good. You just have to be good enough. A roof over her head, a bed to sleep in, food to eat, family who gives a shit that she's alive… That's what she needs. That's good enough and that's what you can give her.”

“No. I have my life the way I want it.”

“The will explicitly states that you must adhere to your role as Tabby's guardian and have her reside with you until she comes of age or you get nothing.”

“I don't need any of it.”

Roscoe grits his teeth the same way Jack used to when he got angry. “Fine. If that's what you've decided, then you'll have to explain that to her. Go on and tell your niece that you're turning your back on her. Please leave when you're done.”

Harvey shoves down the urge to show his contempt for this judgemental interloper. He wants to remind him that he never agreed to this in the first place, but more than anything, he wants to leave. If this is the quickest way out the door, that'll do. It's better she hears this from him than from that vindictive asshole anyway. He pushes himself up from the couch and heads towards the kitchen where Tabitha and Barbara are preparing dinner, only to find Tabitha standing around the corner. The expression on her face is enough to tell him that she heard everything. That sad smile plastered over her pain.

“I'm sorry,” she says. “It's okay, uncle Harvey. I understand. It's not fair that you had this put on you. You never asked to take me.”

“Tabitha…”

No, she doesn't understand. He hates that this is what he's leaving her with. If she knew the whole truth, she would understand that this is what's best for both of them. If she knew the whole truth, she would run screaming from him. 

“I'm sorry too, kid,” he says, actually meaning an apology for once.

“No, no… it's okay, I…” Her brave facade crumbles before she can finish and she turns away, her voice breaking as she rasps, “Please excuse me.”

She hurries away, retreating with her heart broken and leaving him standing there. He lets out a sigh, runs his hand through his hair, and walks out of that house. There was no other way for this to go, really. Nancy had to have known that he would refuse; it was vile of her to harm an innocent in this final spiteful act towards him. No. He's the one who hurt Tabitha. He had to hurt her now to avoid hurting her far worse later by trying to be something he can't.

He sits in the rental car in front of the Walsh residence, the engine idling as he lights a cigarette. Fuck the cleaning fee. He leans back against the headrest and sighs out the first drag. Smoke curls and billows along the ceiling as he stares. If he leaves now, he can probably make that 6:40 flight. He lets the flame in the cigarette die, relights it to take another drag, lets it die again. If he rushes, he can still make it. He'll be back in his dark, silent apartment in a matter of hours. He’ll have a couple more days to piss away ignoring his fake girlfriend and jacking off to ignore this feeling. Maybe one of the masochists who still haven't blocked him will let him use them to take this feeling out on, or maybe Judith has something that will screw him up enough to take care of it. Then he'll go back to work until next weekend when he’ll make up with Rebecca. He’ll go to another BDSM party to play those safe and sane games with safe and sane people who only like to pretend with him until they're done. Then he’ll do it all over again. This is his life. This is the way he wants it. Unattached and unattainable, keeping everything and everyone far enough away to stay in control, never surprised, never at risk of being known. Always the same, always alone.

“Fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

He lights another cigarette. It's better this way. It's safe. Tabitha is safe from him. What he wants from her isn't something he's allowed to have. If he had agreed, if he had taken her away from this shit hole that will only ever reduce what she might become into another God-fearing sow, he would be taking her from all that she knows. He would have her isolated from any other influence but his, completely dependent on him, susceptible in her ignorance, vulnerable in her innocence. He would make her into his in a way that would be impossible to do to anyone else.

The cigarette is cold. It's too late to make that flight. He kills the engine, gets out of the car. He has to ring the doorbell three times before Roscoe answers.

[anagramtransitory]

5. So, I think I have to…behave based on a hunch. A hypothesis. That’s the closest I can get to a word for faith-reliant and self-serving-ego-assuring beliefs worth saying I’m acting upon going forward. Belief is stupid. A guess based on a gut feeling and necessity combined is slightly less stupid. I cannot lose my specialness. If I lose that I will have lost everything. I can’t see how people allow themselves or even much less want themselves to be normal and blend in with the crowd. I mentally shudder at the thought. So not me. If I’m like everybody, I lose my efficacy, I’ve done nothing, I’ve changed nothing, I’ve influenced the movement of the school of fish not a fraction of an inch in my life, and I am not content with the way the school of fish is in any way and can’t expect (after 26 years just that I’ve witnessed, and know to be greater in number, in terms of years by number of “American-mass-culture-wide-behavior/thinking-defining-mindless/selfish-bullshit”) to ever be content with it. So I can’t lose my specialness, not to everyone, at any time, or I’ve lost the battle (for my self-worth) and the war (for the slightest local level influence on others throughout my whole lifetime, thus giving it unquestionable meaning as a whole) at once. I have to trust that people will see just how weird I am, and just how badly or weirdly I function even when I do technically function in a semi-normal amount as a semi-okay-at-adulting lifelong responsible grown self-reliant basic-problem-solving-skills/knowledge-equipped adult. I do not trust them. They see nothing. The meaner part of me says they are less than nothing. Says they’re dunces who cannot be counted on for anything period to be gotten right, says they can’t spell, can’t think, can’t think about others, don’t think about others, will never change, and that’s the end of it, that’s the end. But even dunces can feel, and I don’t think Americans are stupid, they’re just stupid. They’ve been and will always continue to be, bad and worse, in all ways to me a person could be bad and could get even worse from there. They will. But I have to believe that, over my whole life, people will see me exhibiting normal functioning in normal un-flaggable ways and go “now there’s a person doing something completely different”. Mostly, things stay quiet and unsaid and un-commented-on. I have to believe a) that I’m special (unnatural and hard to believe genuinely) and b) that everyone will see it (more unnatural and unbelievable than point A). But I think it’s true, both are true. I do. I do. I really do. In my heart of hearts. Just not in my head. Where it has to belong. I go through it and think “nobody’s ever complimented me on x and the way I do y before” and my heart leaps at the thought somebody ever could or would. At me being myself while functioning normally too. I have to believe people will think the things I like and are cool are worth liking and finding cool at the level that I do, at least once in a while, in random combinations inside different people, or inside one person at a time. If only one person likes one thing I do or have about the way I exist/function normally when I have them around, and I have people around a nonzero amount per year, I’ll eventually get affirmation about, like, 5-10 things, which is more than enough to make me want to live for a lifetime, I think. I’m from high-standards parents in a high-standards culture in a high-standards time in the world (where things can’t just be impressive but previously thought impossible to get notice). So I’m not used to getting or expecting approval or encouragement like that. I am not encouraged to be myself. I am encouraged to have a beautiful living space according to outside ideas of beautiful and acceptable versions of living spaces. There’s not a huge amount of leeway there. You have to live as if no one lives where you live. Well I can’t, am not, doing that. Couldn’t do that. I’m too big a person. Too big a personality, I mean. With too much to prove, unfortunately. Which I’m ashamed of + will change too.

[thesugarhole]

you know, ive read it twice now, but im still not sure where the leap in logic in "coffee drops, burns servers, annet freaks out and exterminates most of the human race... engie drops bombs finishing it off?"

it would have made heaps more sense to direct the bombs where the skeleton of the structure is to permanently wipe her and whoever survived her fear starts life over. but no he dropped them all over the city.

of course that, if you did so you wouldnt have a story. bombing one, maybe 2 buildings is not equivalent to bombing a city after all (that i think is also an entire planet im not sure whats going on in romac geography)

the paragraphs explaining how she turned to use people as servers and adapters and whatnot and she was technically everywhere to justify it... well, it doesn't really

just like in irl the actual internet is kept in place by the same 4 guys in Antarctica or whatever, and if they stop we all stop, there had to be a central nervous system to that beast (no matter how much the author/the story wants to deny it this is fundamentally how technology works). the gdir hqs if you will. bomb just that and be done with it. traces of her living on in the survivors collective memory would turn her into an old god or something but thats it. all wireless towers and microwaves would shut off without the main, sooner or later (could be 1 month could be 890 years as the surviving stupid object AIs have shown but it WOULD end, all things do.)

maybe he wanted her to stay alive bc he stil loved her or for the fuck around find out parable (wanted her to suffer) idk

also i was gonna be unnecessarily mean about something else here but then my critical reading comprehension skills kicked in so theres some resolution: ij the past i always read engie as a bit of an hipocrite and was going down that road again because of his self pitying "i doomed the world I'm gonna kill it off" and then not placing himself directly under one of those nukes to die along with it. with guilt that heavy i can imagine an "honorable" thought to have is "im gonna kill myself to make up for it", and was surprised not once it crossed his monologue

but the thing is, right. humans want to survive. even the most suicidal ones. disclaimer speaking from experience but something that actually kickstarted my recovery out of the suicide hell hole was reading something like "suicidal people dont hate being alive, they hate the situation theyve found themselves in and ending it all together looks like the only viable solution". no matter how horrid he feels i can see engie having just about enough ego to realize this and deciding quick suicide isnt an option, slow suicide by rotting inside a bunker all alone is. if any of this makes sense i guess

edit: "a city thats also an entire planet not sure whats going on in romac geography" watch my previous confusion being hand waved again as oh its not earth its a hollowed out earth like and her core is deep within and only the nuclear/electric bombs all over could eradicate most of the core and most of people-terminals

raaaaauuuugh i want to pull my fucking hair out

[streetlight11]

Blinded Mistakes

Summary: After the breakup, things weren’t so easy for you. A huge part of you just got ripped out. It wasn’t how you expected your life to turn out. Lucky for you, there was someone you could say thanks to for saving you from your own nightmare

Theme: university au, one-sided feelings au

Genre: heavy angst, fluff

Warnings: strong language, nudity, mentions of cheating, depression, suicidal thoughts and unstable emotions (mental health is not to be made fun of so if you know someone who is going through it, do whatever is best to help them)

WC: 9.2K

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

a/n: hey there my loves <3 I've gotten a few asks, requesting for a part 2 to my oneshot of Lies After Lies so here it is! I probably won't make a part 3 for this only because the plot is technically at a dead end now so I hope this is somewhat or rather a good closure to this story. Nevertheless, hope you enjoy! :)

P.S those in plain italics are a flashback!

Three Years After The Breakup

Ever since that heartbreaking separation, Hyunjin has lost whatever contact he has from you. You changed your number, all of his social media was blocked, you moved out of your apartment, you changed colleges during your final year, you basically wiped your entire existence from his life. Of course it was hard for you to make those final decisions but it was something you knew had to be done. There was no beating around the bush with that and even he knows it. At first he didn’t feel any different because he had Rhea to focus on.

But guess what? Karma is a bitch. And karma came to bite his ass three years after he left you for an actual bitch… 

Rhea cancelled on their date plan at the very last minute, saying she wasn’t feeling too well. Hyunjin got worried and asked if he could come over to take care of her but she refused. She told him that she could manage on her own and that she just wanted to lay down and let her body recharge again after eating her medicines. Hyunjin being him, he understood despite having a hunch that something wasn’t right. 

A few hours later, he called Rhea to check in on her. Just wanting to make sure that she’s okay. It was only 7 in the evening so it didn’t make sense if she couldn’t reply to his texts or calls not even once. Sure she might have fallen asleep after eating her medications but he had been texting her since three hours ago but she still hasn’t opened his chat.

Something’s not right…

He thought to himself before he leaped out of his couch to grab his phone and keys before leaving his apartment. He drove to her place in less than 10 minutes, feeling uneasy. Maybe she passed out. Maybe she’s asleep. Maybe she went to get food. There were so many possibilities that would explain why she hasn’t been checking his texts. However, the odds of it being one of those reasons are slim. 

The minute he arrived at her apartment complex, he quickly rushed upstairs in hopes that she was okay. When he finally stood outside her door, he was searching for his spare keys when all of a sudden, a loud yet muffled moan filled his ears. 

“What the fuck?” He asked as the male managed to unlock the front door and right off the bat, the two sneakers and heels that seemed to sprawl over the ground caught his eyes followed by the discarded clothes thrown at every inch of the house. “No fucking way…” Hyunjin thought to himself as he slowly walk deeper and deeper into the premises. The further he went, the louder the sound of heavy grunts and moans could be heard. 

His blood was boiling in his veins, his heart was beating rapidly due to anger. He was growing insanely furious. The minute he stopped right outside her bedroom door, that’s when he heard her pleading voice, begging to be fucked like the slut she was.

With that being said, Hyunjin slammed the door open abruptly, cutting the session short. All three of them jumped from shock as Hyunjin witnessed the obscenity in front of him.

There on her bed, laid a male with blonde locks. Rhea was riding his manhood with her back facing him while the jet black haired male kneeled in front of her, enjoying the view of his girth disappearing into her mouth. The guys seemed to panic but not Rhea. All she did was smirk. “The fuck is this?!” Hyunjin growled as he stormed over to them only to grab her wrist and yanked her off their holds and onto her feet.

“I’m sorry baby, this was just a one time thing.” Rhea said with her sweet voice while batting her eyelashes at him.

“One time thing? Who the fuck said it’s okay to fuck two dudes while you’re dating me?! Do I mean nothing to you?” Hyunjin asked as his voice got softer. He seemed disappointed but why was this feeling so familiar to him?

Oh wait…

“You’re a sweet guy, Hyunjin. You really are… But you’re too naive. I’m not gonna lie though, you’re heavenly in bed.” She smirked while she ran a finger down his jawline. He slapped her hand away, not wanting to hurt her.

“You’re breaking up with me?” He asked as if to double confirm.

“Of course… Unless you don’t mind sharing me with others.” She let out a giggle before she took his hand and brought it down to press his palm against her throbbing, wet core. Hyunjin immediately pulled his arm back harshly before scowling at her.

“I never should’ve left her…” Hyunjin whispered softly under his breath all while taking large steps backwards.

She laughed like a maniac, locking eyes with him after and said, “You lost, babe.” Hyunjin didn’t waste anymore time as he left the house fuming with anger. Except, it wasn’t towards Rhea… it was towards himself.

That night, Hyunjin went back home only to vent out his anger. He screamed. He yelled. He cried. He threw every single item near him, against the wall and across the room. He thrashed his place like it was nothing. He couldn’t think straight. His mind was jumbled up like a new box of puzzles. He was frustrated, disappointed, ashamed, remorseful, furious, literally every negative feeling to ever exist. Yet, he can’t really do much.

He cried for hours, not giving a single fuck in the world about his neighbours filing a noise complaint against him. At this moment, he wished he could just turn back time and stop himself from making that stupid mistake. He wished he could just allow the one person who has been there for him all his life, to take all his pain away as if it never happened in the first place. But of course, that was all just a dream now. He lost that comfort place and there wasn’t a single hint of him being able to retrieve that back. 

Simply because it’s close to impossible. 

“Hey Lix, have you heard from Hyunjin the past few days? That idiot just left me unread and has been ignoring my calls. Did he say anything to you?” Minho asked as Felix took a bite of his fillet. The younger one shook his head while he was busy chowing down his lunch. 

“He hasn't opened my chat since last Friday… Do you think something happened to him?” The younger one asked, sounding genuinely worried.

“What? You think he’s dead?” Minho chuckled but Felix clicked his tongue and slapped the elder’s shoulder.

“Oi! Don’t say that, hyung! I’m sure he’s still alive but I’m just not sure if he’s well… I think we should check on him.”

“Where? We don’t even know where he is, for god’s sake.” Minho said with a bored tone.

“We can start with his house.” Felix said, earning a shrug from the older boy. With that being said, that was exactly what they did after their classes ended for the day. The two boys arrived at Hyunjin’s apartment about half an hour later, finding Hyunjin’s car just parked in one of the lots. Minho went over to it and placed a hand on the hood of the car, only to frown.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Felix asked, only for Minho to look at him with pure worry.

“His engine is cold… It’s like… he never went anywhere for days.” Minho said. 

With the amount of concern piling up in them, the two boys soon took the lift up to Hyunjin’s floor. They knew the route by heart after coming here multiple times before. Once they arrived outside Hyunjin’s unit, Felix gave the door a few knocks. All they got was silence. Minho tried knocking again and the result was still the same. Just then, he reached for the door knob to try his luck.

Thankfully, the door was unlocked which means Hyunjin was home. However, what they were about to walk into never once crossed their minds.

The house was in utter chaos. Things were thrown everywhere. 

Plates, vases and jars were broken. All his art works and paintings were torn and thrown across the hall. Anyone would suspect a robbery or even a murder that took place there. And that is exactly what they had in mind. Fortunately, Minho was quick enough to pick up what sounded like a soft cry coming from down the hallway. He began to walk deeper into the premises, making his way straight towards Hyunjin’s bedroom. Trying his best to avoid the shards of glass and ceramic on the ground.

The moment he stood outside Hyunjin’s bedroom, he gently pushed the door open. Only to reveal their dishevelled friend sitting on the ground looking completely unkempt. 

“Hyunjin?! What the fuck, dude! We thought you were dead! What the fuck happened to you? And why is your house similar to a bloody crime scene?” Minho asked firmly in hopes that his dear friend would cooperate. Thankfully, he did.

“I was stupid, hyung… I was so fucking stupid! I’m an asshole… I’m a fucking asshole!”

“No shit sherlock.” Minho whispered under his breath while Felix tried to calm his friend down.

“Hyunjin ah, what happened?” Felix asked as he kneeled next to the broken boy who had his fingers buried deep in his own locks.

“I shouldn’t have trusted her… I should have known better not to fall for her…”

“Her, who?”

“Rhea! She cheated on me…” Hyunjin said as his two friends glanced over to each other with a knowing look on their faces. They knew about his breakup with you. They knew what he did to you back then. So when the same thing happened to Hyunjin a few days ago, the boys could only nod as they knew this would happen one day.

“Huh. I see.” Minho said as he crossed his arms over his chest before he continued, “I guess that saying is true then… What goes around, does come around.” Hyunjin sighed heavily and soon crashed the back of his head against the wall. 

“I miss her hyung… I fucking miss her but I know she would never take me back after what I did. I’m an idiot.” Hyunjin began to chuckle like a maniac, finding it ridiculous how he made his life choices. Nevertheless, the two boys couldn’t do much to cheer their poor friend up except telling him to give it a shot and try to reconcile with you despite knowing that would be close to impossible.

Even then, Hyunjin tries his best to find you everywhere online that he can.

Two weeks passed, even though Hyunjin is still struggling to find you on social media, he hasn’t given up on that just yet. He was determined to find you simply because he wants, or more so wishes that you would agree on starting over. Losing Rhea made him realize that what he did to you was absolutely outrageous and that he was so blinded by her that he could easily give up the one person who has literally been there for him since day 1. He was stupid. He was naive. He was a total asswipe and he acknowledges it now.

Which is why he couldn’t forgive himself for his actions. He hated himself for that. But what’s been done is done. All he could do now was to accept his consequences and move on with his life.

It was a Saturday night, Hyunjin decided to hangout with Minho and Felix at the bar but he didn’t really have the feels to drink. So he opted for a mocktail instead. He had too many things in his mind that he might actually explode any moment now. Recently, his mind has been filled by your wellbeing and your whereabouts. He knew he needed to move on but he only will and probably only could do that once he finally apologizes to you.

Hyunjin takes a small gulp of his drink, feeling the cool, liquid flow down his throat as a soft sigh escapes his lips. Both of his friends could only exchange knowing looks to one another, not sure if they should even say anything to their friend who has been sighing every 3 minutes ever since they stepped foot in the bar. 

Hell, Hyunjin has been sighing for the past few weeks ever since the breakup with Rhea. However, Minho decides to be the older person amongst them and acknowledges the elephant in the room.

“Hey, Hyunjin ah. It’s time to put it all in the past. Stop dwelling on this, man…” He paused as he gave Felix a glance before he continued whilst looking at Hyunjin dead in the eyes, “She’s not coming back.” That’s when Hyunjin slams his hand on the tabletop and raises his voice slightly in sheer anger.

“Don’t! Don’t say that! I know she will. She has to… Right? I mean, she can’t live without me. She said that herself…” Hyunjin’s voice slowly began to go into a whisper as he tries to convince himself more than anyone else.

Felix scoots closer to his friend and places a soft hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder as a way of comfort despite knowing it probably didn’t do shit.

“Look man, she’s probably living a happy life right now so just… go with it.” Felix said. 

Hyunjin scoffs as he gets up to leave, not bothering to answer their calls even when Minho literally shouts about who’s going to drive them home later. The former simply raises an arm up at a 90° angle to flip Minho off without turning back. Once he was out of that dim bar, he walked over to his car and proceeded to enter the stationary vehicle, only to let out a frustrated yell the minute he closed the door beside him.

He runs his fingers desperately through his hair, almost on the verge of ripping his strands out. Nevertheless, the male couldn’t help but cry in the comforts of his car. To make things simple, he was currently pathetic.

So to clear his mind, he decided to go for a drive without a particular destination. He just wanted to take his mind off of you as best as he could even though he knew it would be close to impossible. Even so, he still did it. He began driving for the next few minutes, not knowing where he was or where he was heading. It's been nearly an hour of him just driving where the roads took him, only to realize that he was now further down town. Probably coming two hours away from his apartment. 

While driving down the street, he came across a 24 hour cafe which looked like it was only 2 in the afternoon. The cafe was nearly packed with customers and that usually means that the cafe was popular amongst those living in this particular area. So when he managed to get himself a parking space, he got out of his car and began to stroll towards the cafe that caught his eye. 

Upon entering the place, a strong aroma of roasted coffee beans began to waft in the air. Filling his senses with it. Hyunjin was obsessed with coffee. He drinks it when he’s happy, sad, sleepy, depressed, distressed. Basically coffee runs in his bloodstream. His eyes were glued on the menu board above the cashier, scanning the list of drinks that were available. Just then, a male with muscular arms, broad chest, wide shoulders and a toothy grin comes over to attend to Hyunjin.

“Hi, welcome to Haus Of Coffee. What can I get for you today?” He asked as Hyunjin spoke up to give his order.

“I’ll just have an iced americano to go please.”

While the male was pressing buttons on the monitor screen, Hyunjin was just randomly looking around the cafe to check out the interior of the place. However, his admiration was soon cut short when he heard a familiar voice just two feet away from him. 

With that being said, he carefully turned his head back to the front and he could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating for a second. 

It was you.

It was really you.

You said something that was just loud enough for your colleague to hear, only for him to burst out into a cackle. You teasingly slapped his chest as you unconsciously turned your head towards Hyunjin. It would be a lie if you said your heart didn’t flinch a tad bit upon seeing him after all these years but it didn’t create the same feeling it did when you were still with him. 

You simply felt… numb.

Which is exactly why you ignored him and walked away to go make the coffee orders. Hyunjin was so busy staring at you that he almost missed the way the male at the counter was calling out to him loudly to get his attention. Hyunjin finally returns back to earth and soon takes out his money. While the male was keeping the money in the cashier and taking the change he owed Hyunjin, the latter made a quick glance at the male’s name tag, ‘Changbin’.

After he got his change back, he slowly walked over to the side to get a better view of you. However, something unexpected happened and Hyunjin didn’t know why but felt jealous. You were tamping the coffee grinds when Changbin suddenly tickled your sides before wrapping his arms around your waist. You laughed as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek, causing you to blush.

Changbin lets go of you only to leave the back to go clear the tables so Hyunjin took this opportunity to step forward, closer to where you were. He remained silent until you came over to pass him his drink.

“Iced americano.” You said while avoiding his eyes. You were about to walk away when he was quick to grab your wrist softly.

“Y/N…” He calls your name sweetly, just the way you used to like it. “Can we talk? Please?” He asked, voice sounding hopeful as ever.

“I’m working.”

“What time do you end? We can talk after.” He insisted, making you frown and finally lock eyes with him.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We’re done, remember? Now go before she finds you talking to me.” You said firmly, pulling your arm out of his grip just in time for Changbin to re-enter the back. Hyunjin felt defeated but he was determined to talk to you. So he waited outside beside his car. About an hour and a half later, he finally saw you leaving the cafe alone. The only problem is, before he could even go up to you, Changbin came out a few seconds later only to surprise you with a back hug and soon kissed your cheek again just like before. 

You seemed really happy at the moment and it hurts him. Because the last time you were this happy was when he was still with you. And yet despite all this, he couldn’t bear to ruin your happiness which is why he decided to leave after he sees you putting on the helmet only to climb onto the pillion seat of Changbin’s sports bike.

His world got crushed for the second time but he’s sure that third time’s a charm.

Four days later, you were working your afternoon shift again right after class. It was half past 11 and you had less than an hour until your shift would end. Changbin wasn’t working tonight but he promised to pick you up after work. Just that he had an urgent matter at work to settle first so he might be a few minutes late. About 20 minutes later, you had just finished making an iced americano and were about to call out the name of the person who ordered the drink when your voice got stuck in your throat seeing the familiar name written on the cup.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes in which he clearly saw. Yet again, he didn’t wanna let you go that easily. Just like before, he told you he wanted to talk to you and he insisted on having a few minutes of your time. Since Changbin wouldn’t be coming anytime soon, you decided to give in. Once you left the cafe, you looked around to spot Hyunjin sitting on a bench that was located right outside this flower shop just two units down. 

He looked up from his coffee the minute he heard soft footsteps approaching him, making him smile but you couldn’t react the same way.

“Hey… Uh thanks… For choosing to sit with me.” He said nervously and you could tell.

“I’m only doing this because I have a ride to wait for. Don’t think I did this to sympathise with you.” You responded coldly to him with your arms crossed over your chest. A part of him shattered upon hearing how distant you were being when you were literally claiming him as your world years ago. His face dropped slightly in disappointment despite knowing he can’t blame you anyway.

“Listen… I know that what I did was absolutely wrong. But I feel like I have to tell you something.” He paused to see your reaction but all he got was two bored eyes staring plainly back at him. Hyunjin gulps down his nervousness before coming clean to you.

“Rhea and I broke things off a couple of days ago…”

Both of you fell silent for a second, giving you the chance to ask further.

“What happened?”

His eyes suddenly dropped to the floor, feeling pure embarrassment and humiliation washing over him.

“I… walked in on her cheating on me.” 

“Oh…” That was all you managed to say. You grew silent again as you felt a sense of deja vu except it was happening to him and not you.

“I know I did you wrong. I know I was an asshole… but I just-” 

Right at that moment, the sound of the engine rumbling down the empty street made you divert your attention to it. Gaze falling onto the rider of the matte grey sports bike rolling to a slow stop until they were right in front of where you were. An instant smile appears on your face despite the person having a full face helmet on. Not long after, you stood up and so did Hyunjin.

The rider swings his leg over the back to unmount the vehicle and takes off his helmet only to then turn to you with the brightest of smiles.

“Hey! I’m really sorry I’m late! My grandma slipped in the bathroom so I had to call the ambulance for her. Mom and dad weren’t home.” Changbin said with a small pout on his face as you took a step closer to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. But is she feeling better now?”

“Mmm! She didn’t have any broken bones or anything. Just that her ankle is sprained a little. That’s all.”

“She’ll recover soon. I know that. She’s a very strong woman.” You said, earning a soft giggle from him before his eyes flicked over to Hyunjin.

“Oh? Didn’t you come to the cafe the other day? Do you guys know each other?” Changbin asked innocently as you quickly answered calmly before Hyunjin could.

“We were schoolmates years ago… I’m surprised he even recognizes me.” You let out a small laugh to loosen the tension between you and Hyunjin. Changbin’s smile widens as he claps his hand once and says, “Ahh! No wonder he was shocked to see you the other day. He got so distracted he didn’t even hear me talk to him.” He laughed as Hyunjin mimicked his reaction slightly so as to not seem off.

“We better get going babe. We’ve gotta do the opening shift tomorrow.” You said as you slipped your hands in Changbin’s easily, feeling him give your hand a gentle squeeze. A small reassurance to tell you that he is indeed with you. 

“Sorry to disrupt your reunion!” Changbin directed his words to Hyunjin who simply stood there like a lost child. He shook his head and waved his hands to brush him off.

“No no, it’s fine.” Hyunjin said, swallowing his tears as he spoke.

“It was nice meeting you, uh… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Changbin laughs, causing Hyunjin to respond.

“It’s Hyunjin.”

“Right, sorry. See you around Hyunjin!” Changbin said cheerfully before walking with you to his bike. 

Hyunjin watched as Changbin whispered something in your ear, to which you scoffed loudly with a smile before slapping his chest. You seemed genuinely surprised but due to something positive. Changbin’s giggle echoes down the empty street, sliding his hands around your waist perfectly. Your hands cupped each side of his face, bringing his face close to yours as you said something against his lips. And that’s when Hyunjin’s nightmare happened.

You giggled right before you gently pressed your lips against Changbin’s full ones. 

A mix of jealousy and disappointment began to rage through Hyunjin’s body. His mind was in distress while his heart was ripped into pieces. “This can’t be happening… It’s only been three years…” He thought to himself. 

Exactly… 

It’s. Been. Three. Years.

He was a fool to think that after all these years, you would actually wait for his return. He was a fool to think that you’d give him another chance. He was a fool to think that after what happened, you would take him back. 

He was a fool.

The minute Changbin drives off into the distance, Hyunjin couldn’t help but collapse to the ground helplessly. Tears came streaming down his face like a broken pipe. He couldn’t control himself as he yelled out in frustration, completely ignoring the stares he got from all those around him. He knew this might’ve happened but he didn’t want to consider this possibility. He has always thought that you will never move on from him just because you’ve known him since you were in diapers.

Looks like he was wrong.

A few weeks passed, you were meeting up with Changbin, Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin at the mall to hang out together after a stressful week of exams. You were waiting for Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin outside the Apple store with Changbin. He leans against the railing while you stand between his legs. Changbin protectively holds your waist with his hands while you tangle one hand into his hair with the other resting on his chest. Occasionally playing with the pendant of his necklace.

He sneaks a kiss to your lips, making you giggle. He does this a few times, only for you to cup his face with both hands and stare directly into his eyes softly with a smile.

“I love you a lot, you know that?” You asked, to which he nodded.

“I know. Because I love you so much too.” He responded confidently. He kissed you again longingly until a voice called you out in disgust.

“Get a room please. We don’t need PDA here.” Jisung said as you turned around to find all three of them walking to you. Just then, Changbin smirks cockily at the younger boy and says, “I’m sorry your single ass feels jealous of me and my beautiful girlfriend.” 

Jisung scoffed loudly as a joke before he spoke up, “Jealous? As if! It’s not like you’ve only got the best girl ever or anything…” He said with a pout on his face, making you laugh. The five of you began to leave the spot and made your way to the restaurant you wanted to eat in. Hours later, Jeongin suggested getting dessert at this ice cream waffle place a few blocks down from the mall and so Changbin drove all of you there. Once you were there, you sat at a table with them while Changbin went to order the desserts with Seungmin.

You were just listening to Jeongin rant about this girl in his class that is somewhat of a creep when Jisung’s voice calling out to a familiar name made you freeze in your spot. 

“Hey yo, Hyunjin! My man! What are you doing here?” Jisung asked as he got up and soon did a handshake with the said person. 

“Hey man! I got bored so I decided to go for a drive.” Hyunjin said. You glanced up only to meet Hyunjin’s eyes but all you felt was emptiness. From the visible frown on his face, you could tell that he was shocked to see you with Jisung. The fact that he froze, Jisung knew something was wrong, which is why he decided to be smart and ask.

“Do you guys know each other?” 

“He was my schoolmate.” You replied, the same answer you gave Changbin when he first asked.

“That’s so cool! What a coincidence!” Jisung laughed, earning a soft chuckle from you and Jeongin but not Hyunjin. Just then, Changbin and Seungmin came back to the table and of course, your boyfriend acknowledged Hyunjin like the friendly guy he is. They talked for a bit to ask about Hyunjin’s wellbeing and what he's been doing recently. However, right when he excused himself, he deadpanned at Changbin with a smile and asked him for permission.

“Hey, do you mind if I borrow Y/N for a bit? I just need to talk to her about something.” 

“Sure. As long as you don’t kidnap her from me, I’m good.” Changbin jokes, making you click your tongue at him. He laughed out loud, saying you were cute when you got angry but nonetheless allowed you to go with Hyunjin. You hesitantly followed Hyunjin out of the cafe only for him to ask you to walk with him. You wanted to just talk outside the cafe where your friends and boyfriend could see you but he insisted on walking. So to avoid fighting with him, you simply followed him.

“How have you been?” He asked first, in which you nodded and responded after.

“Good. Yourself?”

“Not the best… Exam week is crazy and my professor is shit.”

“Well, there’s always the one professor who’s useless in every campus.” He laughed at your remark, covering his face with his hand. A little habit he picked up since he was small. Both of you fell silent for a second or two before he cleared his throat.

“How did you meet Jisung?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“I met him at my cousin’s wedding. He was the bride’s distant relative. I didn’t know who he was but then we started talking when we were at the dessert table.”

“Yeah, he can be quite a talkative little hamster when he’s in the mood. Sometimes too talkative…” You said, earning a soft chuckle from him. The next few minutes, the conversation was okay until he brought up a question about your relationship values.

“Why do you trust strangers so easily?” He asked nonchalantly, making you frown at him deeply, unsure of what he meant by that.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Why do you trust that dude so much?” He asked clearly in spite of Changbin.

“Are you listening to yourself? What does my trust in him have to do with you?”

“You’re trusting a stranger too much, god knows he might be lying to you behind your back.”

“First of all, he’s not a stranger to me. You don’t even know him. And second of all, a person I met a year ago is much more trustworthy than a person I’ve known my whole life.” You said out of sheer anger, making him stiff.

“So don’t educate me on who I can and can’t trust when you’re literally the cause of me having trust issues.” You continued to speak your point, all of which he remained quiet. You were done with his bullshit. You just wanted to tear yourself away from him forever and not have him in your life anymore. With that being said, you turned around to walk back to the cafe but he was stubborn. He wasn’t done talking so he grabbed your wrist to stop you and it worked.

“Fine! Yes! I lied to you a lot back then but I was just trying to protect our relationship!”

You were furious now.

“Protect?! Are you fucking kidding me?! You lied to me because you were too much of a pussy to tell me that you were cheating on me! Don’t pretend like you were doing it to save our relationship because that’s bullshit!” You said, knowing you had a point.

“What was I supposed to do?! Tell you that I was attracted to your friend?!”

“At least it’s better than lying to me for 15 fucking months, isn’t it?”

“Y/N, you’re being irrational.” Hyunjin scoffed under his breath. That was his mistake. Because that made you lose your shit. That was your final straw.

“Irrational?! Because of you, I suffered from depression after you left me for that slut! I kept wanting to kill myself Hyunjin, and I almost succeeded. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t good enough for anyone. You were everything to me. You were my whole world and you even dared to make me feel unworthy that night. Your words kept replaying in my mind like a broken record. I was going insane…” 

You paused for a second only to continue, “But guess what? While you were happy with that bitch, only one person managed to get me out of that horrible state and nurtured me back to sanity… And it’s changbin. He was there for me when no one else was. A guy who I’ve just met, a complete stranger, was there for me at my lowest. Where were you?” You paused again, noting how his face had dropped. You had tears rolling down your cheeks now but you didn’t care.

“Where were you when I needed you most?” You paused to let him think.

“Y/N-”

“So don’t! Tell me I shouldn’t trust him because if there’s one person I would call during a life and death situation, I’d choose him in a heartbeat.” With a harsh swing of your arm from his grip, you stormed back down the street while aggressively wiping your tears away before entering the cafe to avoid questions from them. Hyunjin knew he fucked up badly and there was no way of redeeming himself now. But he knows he deserved it. So all he could do was sigh and walk away.

He lost. He lost the battle and he acknowledges it.

14 Months After The Breakup

It has been months since the world came crashing down on you. It was easily the saddest moment for you as you have lost the most precious person to ever exist in your life. Hyunjin was your everything. He was your best friend, your other half, your soulmate, your boyfriend. 

Well… ex-boyfriend that is. 

You have always thought that you can never live without him. He was your pillar of strength. He was the first person to ever talk to you in preschool. He was your motivation to keep you on your feet everyday. He was the one who brought you to your first ever live concert. He was the first person to ever confess his feelings to you. He was the first person to ever kiss you. He was your first to many things.

Which is why you found it oh so hard to forget about him completely in a flash. Even when you’ve moved to a new city, deleted and blocked all of his social media and phone number, avoided his friends, everything you could think of, you still somehow end up thinking about him. It was a chore to keep forcing yourself into forgetting him. It came to a point that you even began to suffer from depression. It was tiring when all you wanted to do was end your life, feeling utterly hopeless. Finding the easiest ways to get yourself to stop thinking about him.

It was unhealthy but there was no one to help you because the one person you thought would always be there for you at your lowest, was busy fucking around with a slut. You went weeks without having a proper meal. Losing weight extremely due to your lack of nutritions. Your eyes puffy from crying to sleep almost every night. You were constantly at wits end. 

However, on one very fateful night, is when your whole life changed in a blink of an eye. 

You were going insane. You couldn’t take it anymore. You’ve lost every ounce of hope, every bit of faith into believing that not all men are similar to Hyunjin. You’ve lost all your hope into thinking that you have a second chance at love. He was the cause of your fear. He was the cause of your phobia. He was the cause of your trust issues. He was the cause of every negative trait and issues you were facing ever since the breakup.

As much as it sucks to go through this pain, you didn’t know how else to overcome it. As a result, you have decided to make your way up the tallest building in the city you were in. Once you made it to the top of the building, you took slow steps towards the edge of the parapet. Resting both hands on the surface, leaning over to witness the height of the building. A cold shiver ran down your spine, unable to grasp the fact that this might be the last thing you see. With a heavy heart and a shaky pair of legs, you carefully climbed onto the parapet to prepare yourself.

Your breaths got heavier by the minute as you glanced down to look at how high up you were.

“That’s it. Here goes nothing.” You whispered to yourself.

However, as soon as you begin to lift one feet up and swing it slowly outwards to dangle off the edge, a soft voice calls out behind you.

“Miss. I really don’t mean to startle you but please… please don’t do it…” The male said. You didn’t realize you were crying until you tasted something salty on your lips.

“Why? Why shouldn’t I jump?! He doesn’t love me! Nobody loves me!” You cried as you took a small step back, edging closer and closer to the edge while he too took small steps forward.

“Don’t say that. I’m sure a lot of people love you. Your family loves you.” He said again, in a very gentle voice while he had his hands out with his palms facing you.

“I feel so fucking useless! I’m a fucking loser. He made me feel so worthless. He doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t love me.” You frowned, causing him to smile.

“I know I may not be the best person for advice. But what I do know is that your life is the most precious thing in this world and I wouldn’t take it away from myself just because of an outsider, if I were you. So please… don’t do this to yourself, miss…” He said as you stood frozen there. You were a crying mess now as he finally stood a foot away from you. Since you were distracted, he carefully slipped his hand into yours and tugged you towards him. Once you were finally back on the rooftop ground, he smiled while still keeping his hold on you. 

“Do you need some comfort?” He asked and all you could do was nod weakly. The male laughs softly but nonetheless wraps his arms around you. For some odd reason, you felt so safe in this stranger’s arms. It was almost as if it was meant to be perfect. You embraced his warmth by sliding your arms around his waist tightly, burying your face in his neck while he held you close to him. 

“Why does he not love me?” You whispered in between tears, mind still hazy with the thought of your best friend. However, the words that the male said couldn’t leave your mind even after you’ve gone your separate ways after that.

“The only love that matters is self love. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t love you. Love yourself first because people will come and go. And that’s normal. So it’s okay. It’s really okay to lose people you love. Just don’t forget to love yourself more. That way, even if the ones you love do leave you, you won’t feel so lost and empty.” 

With that being said, you pulled away from him, feeling how genuine he was now that he has said those things to you. The minute you were face to face with him, you finally got to properly look at the male who saved you from your near death. 

He was handsome. So handsome and who knew a stranger you’ve just met, would be willing to help someone who is at their ultimate lowest without caring about whether they’re someone they love or just merely a stranger. This shows how good of a person he is. When he noticed how blankly you were staring at him, he let out a soft giggle before cupping your face with both hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs. After doing that, his eyes met yours and you couldn’t help but feel shy from his gaze. 

You felt stupid for what you almost did. You were too blinded by the mistakes that you forgot about your family. How they would feel if you took your own life just because of a boy. How your mother would feel if she found out she lost you when she hasn’t seen you in years ever since you moved out to go to college. You weren’t ready to break her heart. You just couldn’t.

So you were thankful. You were so thankful for the stranger who saved you tonight. 

A Few Days After That Fateful Night

It’s been a few days since the night that stranger saved you from your misery. You had been reflecting about everything, making video calls to your family back at home. Telling them you missed them and that you loved them so much. It was such a relief to see them smile. It felt so warming to know that despite losing one person, you’ve still got your family to receive the love from. They will always be your strength, no matter what the circumstances are. 

Tonight however, you decided to go and get some fresh air. You weren’t sure where to go or what to do. All you know is that you just needed to get out of the house and start fresh. You wanted to try and put all the past behind and start moving forward instead of staying put where you last fell. So that’s exactly what you did.

Of course it was hard because you were on your own. You had no one to help you. The work would take double your effort but with time, you were sure you’ll make it. With that being said, you wore a hoodie and slipped on your comfortable sweatpants before leaving the house. You aimlessly walked around your neighbourhood with no sense of direction. It was 15 minutes to midnight and there were little to no shops left that were operating at this late hour. All except for this cafe called Haus Of Coffee.

With no thought, you entered the bright cafe which seemed to be open till past midnight since the cafe looks like it's nearly full. There was no one at the cashier but there was one girl cleaning the tables and that was it. So you took this time to scan the menu board to see what you could buy. You were just focused on the menu when the staff room door right behind the cashier slides open. 

You see the back of a guy talking to a man wearing a black button down shirt who seemed to be joking around with the guy. When the man wearing black noticed you, he nodded his head towards the guy in front of him to signal your presence. 

“Hyung! You owe me an ice cream!” The guy said before turning around completely but for some reason, his voice sounded oh so familiar. The minute he turned around, that’s when your heart skipped a beat. It was the same guy from that night. He looked equally shocked to see you as his eyes grew wide and his mouth hung agape slightly. 

“Oh? You’re… Aren’t you the girl from that night?” He asked gently to which you only nodded. 

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again…” He chuckled nervously before continuing, “How have you been?” He asked, making you smile.

“Okay… Not the greatest but I’m feeling slightly better. Still trying my best to heal.” You said quietly as he nodded to show that he understands you.

“What can I get for you today? Do you need a little night booster or are you just here for a stop-over drink?” He asked with the cutest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Just the latter is fine. I was actually out to get my mind off things.”

“Mmm. Then I have the perfect drink for you! Have you ever tried the Iced Butterfly Pea Sweet Tea?”

“What is that?” 

“I promise you it’s every customer’s favourite! They usually come here for that if they don’t want coffee.” He said, making you giggle.

“Okay then. Maybe I’ll give that a try.” 

He smiles as he taps the screen to key in your order while asking, “Anything else for you?” 

“No, that will be all. Thank you.” You said, to which he nodded and soon charged you for your drink. However, after you’ve collected your receipt and were waiting by the side, only then did you notice the price you paid was half of the original amount they stated on the menu board. Not only that, there was a small note typed in under the remarks which made you smile instantly.

“You’re already pretty but I think you look even more beautiful when you smile. So don’t put that smile away! :)” 

The minute you glanced up, your eyes instantly met his own pair from on top of the coffee machine. Even though you could only see his eyes, the way they crinkled into crescent moons, it was only obvious that he was smiling. He looked down to break eye contact and soon you felt your heart racing in your chest. 

A few minutes later, he calls for you to tell you your order is ready. When you walked over, he smiled adorably at you. “Here’s your order.” He said.

“Thank you… um…” You paused in thought as he chuckled softly as if he read your mind.

“Changbin.” He smiled, causing you to easily mimic his expression.

“Thank you Changbin.” You repeated your words in addition to his name this time. Except, he didn’t forget to ask for yours.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He flirted with you but it seems so natural and playful. And you were oddly okay with it. Maybe because the one saying it is him and not some random creepy dude. Right? Maybe.

“Where are you going after this?” He asked you casually, to which you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not too sure to be honest.”

“Do you need company?”

“But you must be really tired from work, right?”

“I’m holding up well.” Both of you laughed softly as he continued, “So… where shall we go?”

“You know, you’re really confident for somebody I just met. Are you always like this to every pretty girl you meet?” You asked out of curiosity and he completely understood your insecurity.

“Even if I told you I don’t flirt with every girl, you wouldn’t believe me, would you?” 

“Of course not.” 

“Exactly, so should I even answer your question?” He asked cheekily while cocking his eyebrow at you teasingly.

“Fine. Fair point.” You said in defeat, earning a laugh from him. Just then, Changbin asks if you were still up for a little adventure with him after he finished his shift. With the fact that you wanted to start fresh and get your mind off things, you decided to string along. Your gut feeling has always been right so far and tonight, you had a feeling that he was someone you could trust. Which is why you agreed to his suggestion, making him smile brightly.

And that was the start of your new friendship with the cute barista who also happens to be the one who saved you from your past trauma and heartbreak.

6 Months Later

Changbin and you haven’t officially declared yourselves as a couple but the signs were there. You’ve been on a few outings that seemed too romantic to be called a casual hang out. However, neither of you wanted to openly call it a date as none of you wanted the other to get the wrong message in case they didn’t feel the same way. It was a Saturday afternoon and Changbin had told you in advance that he wanted to bring you out today. Except, he didn’t say where. All he said was to wear something free and easy.

With that being said, you opted for a simple pair of denim jeans, a pretty floral blouse and your favourite white sneakers. He picked you up right at your doorstep, looking so handsome that it blew your mind away. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a simple graphic black shirt which had the sleeves rolled nicely to accentuate his muscular arms perfectly, a few statement jewellrys, a pair of sneakers and a cap.

“Hey beautiful. Ready to go?” He greeted you, causing you to giggle. 

“Yes, but where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise! I can’t tell you now.”

“Why?” You asked sadly, earning a hearty laugh from him.

“Come on! Let’s not waste time!” He said as he took your house keys from you gently and proceeded to help you lock your door for you. 

Both of you began to make your way down and to his sports bike. You kept your focus on the routes he was taking, noticing that you were heading further out of town. After about 30 minutes of riding, he finally pulls up into a parking lot but what made you gasp was the huge amusement park that sat right next to the parking lot.  Once he managed to park his bike at one of the lots, both of you got down only for you to squeak in excitement.

“Oh my gosh! This is amazing! How did you know about this place, Bin?” You asked as he giggled at how cute you were when you got all excited. 

“Sungie told me about this place a while back. So I thought I’d check it out with you.” He smiled, to which you hugged him.

“I’m so excited! I can’t wait to ride the viking!” You said as your inner child was unleashed. You easily slipped your hand into his and soon began to head towards the ticketing counter with him. You spent the next hour going to different game booths, riding the rides that were available, getting carnival snacks during your break time. Everything was perfect and you couldn’t have asked for a better person to experience this with. 

Right before you called it a night, Changbin asked if you wanted to go on the ferris wheel that overlooks the city. You easily nodded, knowing you’ve always loved seeing the city lights. While you were entering the small glass container, you didn’t realize Changbin was a few steps behind but he managed to join you before the container rose from the platform. Once the doors were closed, the two of you sat on the bench and talked about the stuffed animal he won for you.

Minutes ticked by without you realizing that you were almost nearing the top of the ferris wheel. Just as you glanced up to look ahead, the wheel stopped moving and you began to panic.

“Oh shit. Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Why did it stop? Omg are we in trouble?” You rushed through your words as you walked over to the door to see what was going on downstairs. Your mind was flooded with negative thoughts, completely unaware of his voice calling your name calmly. It wasn’t until you felt soft hands resting on your waist that you finally snapped out of your train of thoughts and soon turned around to meet him.

“Hey? Hey… Relax… We’re okay, I promise. I was the one who asked the man to stop the wheel once we’re up here.” He said while gently caressing your sides. You let out a heavy sigh before slapping his chest softly.

“You idiot! You almost got me crying!” You whined at him in which he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m so sorry. I just… wanted a few more minutes with you alone with the best view we could get.” He said, hands linking with yours while he began to walk you towards the front of the glass container to get a better view of the city. Once you are there, Changbin turns you around to gently press your back against the glass. His hands sliding around your waist perfectly. You rested your hands on his broad chest, feeling yourself smile upon seeing his gaze fall on your lips. 

Changbin slowly began to lean in, getting closer and closer to your face until you felt his soft lips brush over your own, dangerously close. He reaches up to hold your face gently with one hand only to hear him whisper quietly to you, “Can I kiss you?”

That was all you needed to hear from him.

So without replying to him verbally, you simply nodded and he smiled. Changbin caressed your cheek with his thumb as he pushes his head forward so gently to let his lips touch yours.

Your heart was rapidly beating in your chest while he kissed you sweetly. Your mind was relaxed, your heart was content. Your fear of never being able to find love again, faded into dust for he had proven to you that there is someone for everyone on this earth. Changbin gave you strength and courage to move forward. He has been there for you right from the start. He was there for you when you were at your lowest and he was there every single step of the way. Never once did he leave you to go through the process on your own.

So when he pulled away from you, he kept his face close to you. Soft touches to your cheek as if he was afraid of letting you go.

“I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked, making your heart jump out of your chest. 

“Of course… And Changbin?”

“Yes, my love?”

You smiled at the nickname he chose for you, making you shy.

“I love you too.” You confessed as he smiled and kissed you again. Changbin was probably the best thing that’s ever happened to you so far and you wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.

[thisismysecondrodeo]

"This Means the World to Me" Part 9

wc: 2.8k

Story Page | Story Tag

AN: This one has a touch of angst, but you gotta believe in rom-communism to make it to the spice at the end marked with 🌶️

Tags: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, graphic descriptions of p-in-v sex

Willa did end up coming to New York to celebrate. You had meetings with Sasha and HBO about what’s next, Jason joining over Zoom. The two of you put on your professional hats and tried to keep the loving gazes to a minimum, not that it always worked. 

Sasha kept it real with you, as she always did. “You’re not going to be rich for the next few months, even the next year or two. But I think you should take the leap and quit the day job. You are so talented. This is the start, not the peak. Boring old accounting will always be there, and I’m sure you can thrive off you-know-who’s Ted Lasso money.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not letting Jason bankroll me. Well, not directly. I’ve got savings and a writer’s room paycheck, I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“Selfishly,” Sasha started speaking slowly, sipping her latte. The two of you were in a coffee shop around the corner from her office, a mix of personal and professional. “I wouldn’t say no to another novel. We’ve talked about other ideas you’ve had and I know time is going to be tight, but now would be a great time, publicity-wise.” 

You hadn’t thought about a 3rd novel but you always have ideas floating, always have a notebook tossed in a bag for when something strikes you. Jason joked he felt like he was out with his therapist sometimes, but you often let him read your ideas. You enjoyed his feedback; he was a brilliant writer and he made your ideas stronger.

“What about short stories? I feel like I can totally squeeze in some ideas that won’t make full length novels.” 

“Girl, that’s a great idea,” Sasha accidentally got too loud and looked around, waving her hand dismissively, “I’m literally already too excited. Can you work on getting me some ideas soon? Something I can shop around?”

“I will get on that in London,” and you knew when you said it that it would set Sasha off on a girl talk tangent. You didn’t mind at all.

-

Because production for your show wouldn’t start until after Ted Lasso filming ended, you once again found yourself talking to Willa while buying a one way ticket, this time to London. The two of you would be heading to the airport together and she was uncharacteristically quiet. Willa lounged on the couch in Jason’s living room as you moved about the kitchen getting plates and forks for your takeout.

“Everything okay?”

Willa smiled softly at you. “Yeah, no, I’m just…so happy for you. You literally look so at home here. And I guess I’m just a little bummed that your family…” Willa trailed off. You hadn’t really spoken to your parents since the Emmys, not seriously anyway. They loved you, they checked in on you, but you hated the feeling like you needed to defend yourself and your choices, so the relationship was stilted.

You sighed. “I know. And I think you’re the best friend in the world that it’s bumming you out. I think we’ll get there you know? It’ll just… take some time.” 

“Are you going to take Jason to meet them?”

“Oh I guess I’ll have to eventually,” you waved your hand dismissively, “but god it feels like a dick move to subject him to that.” 

“You’re not subjecting him, he loves you. And I’m sure your brother is dying to meet him.” Willa was right, your older brother had been supportive from day one, had technically met Jason on FaceTime and asked after him everytime the two of you spoke, which wasn’t often but was always pleasant. “Just take everyone to an activity of some kind, a basketball game or a movie, literally just anything where you don’t have to entertain each other for 2 hours.” You laughed. Willa was right, as she tended to be. 

-

Your arrival in London was marked with the energy of a homecoming. You surprised Jason by coming straight to set, not wanting to waste a minute by waiting for him at his rental. You felt bad that you showing up was such a distraction, but Hannah and Juno especially greeted you like long lost friends. Brett grinned, with a “there she is,” and met you with open arms. And at the end of a long line of hello’s was Jason in one of his classic directing outfits, a Run the Jewels hoodie and baseball cap, smiling broadly at you and catching you in his arms, spinning you around with a chaste kiss. 

You joined the crew on their lunch break and caught everyone up on your good news, that you’d be writing your next book, or at least as much of it as you could, while you were still in London, and the cast invited you to hang out while you did it. You looked to Jason, not wanting to overstep but he just nodded enthusiastically, so you agreed. 

“Alright, more importantly,” Brett started, everyone turning to listen, “if you’re going to hang out with us, you have to take the quiz.”

“Oooo, yes,” Toheeb responded excitedly clapping his hands together. 

You laughed looking around the faces at the table, nervous but curious, “Oh jeez and if I fail?”

“Well its only one question and you’ll still be allowed back you’ll just never hear the end of it.” 

“Fair, hit me.”

“If you could choose any song for Rebecca to have karaoke’d in Season 1, what would you have picked?”

You put on your most serious face while you tried to think of a good answer, something that didn’t sound like you were sucking up to someone’s specific sensibilities. It suddenly hit you, a ridiculous answer that almost made you laugh out loud but you thought it would hit harder if you said it matter-of-factly. 

“American Boy by Estelle ft. Kanye West. Colin doing the Kanye verse of course.” 

You give it a beat, amused at how no one quite knows if they’re meant to laugh until you finally crack a smile. Brett laughed loudly and easily, hitting his hand on the table, Jason joining him with a giggle. Hannah didn’t know the song and everyone got a kick out of playing it for her. 

“You passed,” chuckled Brendan, “that’s certainly one we’ve never heard.” 

“So karaoke tonight then, yeah,” suggested Juno giddily.

“Oh I am NOT a performer,” you laughed. “But I will happily hang out and drunkenly support you.” You yawned at the end of your sentence, and Jason shook his head at you.

“After a nap maybe. Come on I’ll get you home. Be back in 30 y’all,” Jason directed towards the crew who all nodded, happy to get a little bit of extra lunch time. 

“Make that 45,” you suggested, and Hannah and Juno giggled knowingly. Jason laughed taking wrapping an arm around your waist, and tossing over his shoulder, “you heard the lady.”

Karaoke that evening was as raucous as you expected, more of a free-wheeling club. Having time with Jason earlier in the day, as quick as it was, helped you feel more settled, more free to party with his friends like they were yours. You danced with Juno in a way that in past relationships would have made your partner jealous but when you looked over at Jason he was watching with amusement, pressing a bottle of beer to his lips, dragging your eyes to his jawline. It was Juno’s small frame pressed against you at the moment, but when your eyes locked on him you could still feel the ghost of his presence, his touch. 

When the song ended you grabbed another drink, and as soon as you pressed the glass to your lips you could feel Jason come up behind you, his hands on your waist, leaning over you to order another beer. 

“You are incredibly sexy, you know that,” he whispered low in your ear, and you shuddered involuntarily. Just as he pressed his lips to your neck, you heard Brett calling your name and the opening notes of American Boy. You turned in Jason’s arms, “you didn’t!” Jason lifted his hands up defensively and laughed, “not me.”

And somehow you found yourself three sheets to the wind being the Kanye to Brett’s Estelle. There was more drinks and more laughter and at the end of the night you found yourself giving a drunk Juno a piggyback ride on the way to a chip shop. You were glad to be heading out because you weren’t sure how much longer you could look at Jason’s mouth around a beer bottle, or his tongue licking salt off the rim of a shot glass. You could tell he was feeling it too, when he kissed you more passionately than he normally would in public, Juno still wrapped around your back laughing at how closely she was involved. Hannah snapped a photo and the next morning when you managed to untangle yourself from the sheets you saw it on Juno’s instagram, and laughed when you realized she had used your caption, Paris looks nice this time of year. 

The time in London was flying by and you didn’t go to set everyday but you were there often. It was nice to have people around while you wrote, the hustle and bustle kept you focused. You and Jason fell into a routine similar to that in New York, but now with plans for his kids to come out for a while. You made plans with your family to visit New York, and by extension meet Jason,  when you were back in town. Now that the writers room for the show had a date, there were plans that needed to be made and as exciting as it was, it made you anxious. And being anxious made you grumpy, as much as you didn’t want to be grumpy around Jason. It was hard to not want to be perfect. But as much as Jason was surprised that you could read him like a book, he could do the same for you. 

“Alright,” he said, falling on to the couch next to you as he came in from shooting. “What has you all sunken in there?” He tapped your head gently, his tone light. 

“Nothing,” you responded quickly, still tapping away on your laptop. You knew if you turned to look at him he’d be able to see everything you didn’t want to tell him. You could work out your anxiety on your own, like you had for years. He had been nothing but accommodating, there was no reason to saddle him with your unfounded insecurities. 

“Uh huh,” he said slowly, clearly not believing you. “Is it the book?”

“Not the book.”

“Your family?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“My family?”

“Jason.” You said it sharply and Jason chuckled thinking that he was getting somewhere, until he looked at you and realized that you were serious. 

“Baby, can you close your laptop? Please?”

You did but you still didn’t look at him. “I just, I know we’ve talked about it, but everything is moving so fast and I just, I’m starting to feel like I’m drifting out to sea. Like where do I live anymore, what am I doing, is the book any good, is the show gonna—”

Jason sighed. You felt guilty for bringing up old conversations, but then you were mad that he was making you feel guilty. This was so hard, being an author and writing a show was so much harder than you’d thought. Dating a celebrity was harder than you thought it would be. You squared your shoulders and looked at him. 

“Jason, you… I mean..this is hard!”

“Us?”

“Everything. I just,” you sighed, “you’ve got all your shit together and, you know, you’re busy but you don’t seem stressed to the point of imploding and you’re the fucking executive producer.” 

Jason rubbed a hand over his face, fiddling with his mustache, “That’s what this is really about isn’t it, that I’m executive producer.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re finally mad at me for stealing your thunder. I knew it would come back around but I really wish we had hashed this out before—”

“Jason,” you can feel yourself getting louder, not quite yelling but certainly not the volume of polite conversation. “I meant what I said, I don’t HAVE thunder without you stepping in. I’m jealous, sure, but not about that. You’re show running and acting and launching a new show and writing and co-parenting and dating me and I can’t fucking do the one thing in my life I’ve always dreamed of doing without cracking into pieces. I’m jealous that its not too fucking much for you.”

Jason stood, putting distance between the two you and running his hands through his hair. He was silent for a few moments and you replayed what you said, because you could feel him oozing hurt. Finally, in a pained voice, he asked, “Are you breaking up with me? Am I...is this...too much for you because we can…I mean, I can—”

“No! Jason, stop. listen to me,” you were frustrated but apologetic and you could tell Jason was frustrated too. 

“So what are you saying? Huh?”

“I’m saying I love you! I’m just fucking overwhelmed even if it is in a positive way. Even if I’m overwhelmed with good things I’m still fucking overwhelmed.” 

The room was quiet in the aftermath of your outburst. You were so embarrassed it didn’t truly sink in what you’d said. 

“Did you…just tell me you love me for the first time in the middle of an argument?”

You look at him wide-eyed. “...Well it wasn’t meant to be an argument.” You shrugged and he laughed. Jason moved your laptop onto the coffee table as he sat down and pulled you into his lap. When you finally met his gaze, what you saw there made you forget the feeling of drowning you’d been experiencing so recently lately.

“Y/N… I love you. So much. And if there’s anything I can do to help you feel less overwhelmed I want to do it. Okay? There’s no problem that’s too small to burden me with. Even if that problem is that you’re wayyyy too happy. I just need you to talk to me.” 

You laughed and dropped your head kissing up his neck, to his jaw, finally meeting his lips. It felt the same as it always did, except more than. Deeper. 

“You love me, huh?” He smiled and you pressed another small kiss to his lips. “I hear you. And I certainly am wayyyyy too happy,” you kissed him again. “But I can think of one thing you could do to help right now,” you said as you moved off his lap, pulling him down over you. Every part of your skin he revealed he pressed a whispered I love you into, until you were panting with desire. 

🌶️Spice🌶️

Jason leaned back from your naked form. He was still dressed in his trackpants and hoodie and you could feel his gaze over your body.

“Mmh,” he grunted with a smirk, and your cheeks flushed. “You know it’s been six months,” he said pressing kisses down your chest, “and every time I see you naked I go a little bit more insane.”

“Oh yeah?” You tried to keep your voice steady, but it came out as a moan, “so I’ve got about 6 more months before you’re just totally gone?”

Jason licked straight up your center and you gasped at the feel of his tongue. “Yeah, no, you’ve got maybe two weeks.” 

Emotions were so heightened it wasn’t going to take much for Jason to make you fall apart, especially not once he introduced two of his long fingers as his tongue continued swirling around your clit. You were already closer to orgasm than you thought you were, and as much as you appreciated Jason being a giver, you wanted him inside you immediately and you weren’t afraid to tell him so. 

Jason stripped down and you ran your hands lovingly over his neck, his chest, his thighs. Something about the way he waited patiently and just let you touch gave you the most powerful feeling of ownership. He was yours. You could take what you wanted from him. And you did, using one hand to tug his chin towards you for a kiss and the other to line him up with your center. He started to move slowly, reverently, but with a nod of encouragement from you, picked up the pace and fucked you with every praise he could think of falling off his tongue. He used his thumb to bring you over the edge with him, moaning your name as he did. He collapsed gently on top of you and you held him against your chest, pressing kisses to the crown of his head. 

❄️End of Spice❄️

“It doesn’t matter how hard it is, it doesn’t matter if the show works, it doesn’t matter where I live,” you realized softly, whispering more to yourself than him, “not when this feels like home.”

AN: Can't believe we're almost at the end! American Boy karaoke is one of the first ideas I had for this fic, and then I saw this wonderful fanvid and knew it had to happen. Also special thanks to everyone replying or reblogging and saying how much you enjoy the story in the tags, greatly appreciated!

✨Taglist✨: @tedlassostan

[sweetteaanddragons]

Do You Remember Me?

“They tell me you’re the king now,” Feanor said with bright eyed curiosity. “Is it always one of your responsibilities to welcome the newly re-embodied?”

The first sentence, Finarfin had to admit, was not wholly unexpected.

. . . Even if it was said with far more cheerful curiosity than he had heard from his half-brother in - a long time.

“Not always,” he admitted. “Time would not permit it. But I was eager to see you again.”

Anxious. Furious. Bewildered.

But eager.

Feanor’s face brightened. “Again? We knew each other?”

Finarfin’s cautious smile froze. He turned, very slowly, to face Namo where he sat on his throne of judgement.

“My lord?” he asked through teeth that were still gritted into his most diplomatic smile. 

“It was decided that it would be unjust to require Feanor to remain in these halls since even the commanders who fought at Doriath were long since returned, and he committed fewer crimes than they.”

“ . . . Technically, yes,” he agreed. “Although I would point out that my nephews who died at Doriath are also not yet returned.”

“In their due time,” Namo said. “Unlike Feanor, their spirits were not yet healed.”

Finarfin inclined his head.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Feanor offered.

Finarfin resisted the urge to scream.

“He does not remember his own sons?”

“He does not remember anything,” Namo said.

“But I’m learning more all the time!” Feanaro said. “For instance, if my sons are your nephews, you must be my brother. Older, I’m presuming, since you’re king. Or do we use a different system?”

“It’s gotten . . . complicated,” Finarfin said. “Since people started leaving. And dying. And secluding themselves in whatever exile they find most aesthetically appropriate.”

And, apparently, returning with amnesia.

He took a deep breath and tried addressing Namo again.

“Why doesn’t he remember anything?”

“It was unjust to leave him to languish,” Namo repeated, “but it seemed likely to stir up trouble to send him back to the world of the living as he was.”

“Apparently, I committed crimes,” Feanor said helpfully. “Though no one will tell me what they were. Do you know? I’m afraid I don’t remember our legal system, so I can’t even make educated guesses.”

“You stole some boats,” Finarfin said blankly. “Among other things.” Although frankly, half of what Feanor had done wrong hadn’t technically been illegal for the simple reason of no one thinking there was a need.

“I was a thief?” Feanor frowned. “Hmm.” 

“It was also decided that it would be safer if he was not informed of his past,” Namo interrupted. “Lest his pride cause divisions.”

Lest he try to retake the crown, Finarfin interpreted.

Which was all well and good, except, “How exactly do you propose to stop someone from telling him?” Even if Nerdanel refused to see him, plenty of Feanorian supporters had been released - and even if they were all kept away from him, there were plenty of people who would inadvertently inform him through accusations.

“Enforcing that restriction will be one of your roles as his . . . guardian.”

Finarfin balked. “Guardian? He’s not a child!”

Namo stared at him implacably.

He was very good at it.

It was only years of experience with diplomacy that kept him from rubbing at his growing headache. He could see, if he turned his head and squinted, the logic behind thinking Feanor would be less dangerous if he knew fewer things. It was just that the problem with this kind of thinking was that a Feanor who did not know things was a Feanor who was dedicated to learning things without much concern for how many new problems he created in the process. 

And even that paled next to the biggest logical leap of this whole mess, which was, “And Feanor consented to all of this?” To forgetting his birthright? His family? Had he thought he had some trick to get around it? Did he have some trick to get around it and this was all some clever ruse? Or - 

Namo looked almost confused. “This was his sentence.”

A cold feeling crept up Finarfin’s spine. He did not think it was just due to the draft in the frigid stone room.

“This was his justly decided punishment and pardon,” Namo continued. “Do you ask those you judge in Tirion for consent?”

Finarfin considered bringing up some interesting political theories being discussed in Tirion about the consent of the governed.

He also considered screaming and never stopping, but he’d been considering that for roughly three ages now, so he was able to push that urge aside.

“I see,” he said, still smiling. Sometimes he thought his face would freeze like that. “I’ll just. Take my brother and go then. Shall I.”

“This is acceptable,” Namo said.

“Grand,” Finarfin said, smile cracking, as he grabbed Feanor by the arm and all but dragged him out of the receiving hall and out into the sunlit world. 

It was the first time Feanor had ever seen the sun, he realized. Remembered or not. His brother was looking around at the light in wonder.

“In the interest of fairness,” Finarfin said, “I feel I should warn you that if you had all your memories, we would probably be in the middle of a shouting match right now.”

Feanor tilted his head. “Because I steal boats?”

“Because - well, that’s part of it.” He paused for a moment. “Please don’t say that in the present tense again.”

“I don’t even feel particularly interested in boats,” Feanor said, sounding bewildered. “Why did I want them?”

Finarfin opened his mouth to answer before stopping himself. “I am not rationalizing your horrible choices for you.”

It was possible that the words came out a bit more shakily than he intended.

“Alright,” Feanor said, looking alarmed. “Please don’t be upset - brother? My king? I’m sorry, I still don’t know your name. Or how I’m supposed to address you. Or much of anything, really.”

Finarfin wanted very badly to sit down and cry.

But he wanted to get Feanor away from here even more badly, so he forced a smile onto his face and said, “My name is Arafinwe, but you’re welcome to call me Finarfin if you prefer. Or brother, though you’ll be angry at yourself later if you do.”

“Even if the Valar don’t let me get my memories back?”

It was probably not wise to say such things in the very shadow of Mandos’s Halls, but -

“Feanor,” he said, very seriously, “you have never waited for the Valar to permit anything in your life. I beg you, don’t start now.”

If his brother couldn’t remember how to fight just now, then, well.

Finarfin would just have to remind him.