#away from that community and the drama

[hers-underwraps]

Just wanted to make a post to say that I don't plan on being active in this fandom anymore.

I started posting in this fandom because I saw a problem, and I wanted to fix that. There was a severe underappreciation and negligence towards certain characters and aspects of the show which seemed unjust to leave untouched. I wanted people to full appreciate everything this show had offered and what it meant to me. I really wanted change.

However, as time went on, the more I stayed, the more I realised that was just wishful thinking. These days, I swear I'm just screaming at a brick wall. I'm trying petition for certain characters/AnB, and people simply do not care. Although I guess that was foolish on my part because I'm trying to change a group of people who are effectively incapable of it. Change is a good thing, and if that's something people in this fandom are unable to do, then I don't want to be part of it.

Hatred was a problem in this fandom when I came into the fandom, and it still is now. People taking things that other people put genuine time and passion into and using it in inappropriate ways that OBVIOUSLY don't sit right with the creators was a problem then and still is now. People destroying the love of this show for others was a problem then and is still a problem now. This fandom only caters to certain type of fans, and judging by the cycle, I really do not think it has the capacity to change.

I'll still answer Octonauts-related asks, and I might post a whim-of-the-moment thing when I feel like it, but I don't want to dedicate any more time and energy to this fandom because it's genuinely become joyless.

I'd prefer to just protect my peace.

-> AJ

[mewniemoon]

Fuck it. Jumping on the "Prove the Pansear Screenshots weren't Faked" bandwagon. Seeing so many people blindly cheer and reblog that callout post legitimately almost made me delete my blog in fear. I don't blame Pan for deleting at all and don't think that's automatic proof of guilt. No one cared about any potential victims, no one cared if someone got hurt, they just bragged about how "they've always known" and that's terrifying. If the screenshots turn out to be true i'll retract my statement and apologize, but for now im just scared for the rw community and where its headed because this isn't good

I know Im not really a creator in the rw fandom anymore (mostly due to stuff like this tbh) but if just one person sees this and feels safer and seen then i'll be happy

[hibernating-stag]

It's definitely more building on the events of my fic than anything that implied in canon, but I still really like the idea that Robo-Ky and Venom were living in a skeleton of an apartment while the bakery was taking off and it slowly gets filled with more furniture and personal effects as time goes on.

I think it might take a bit for it to properly sink in that the bakery someone else's home that they happen to live in. It's theirs and theirs to do what they want with it and that gets reflected in how it looks, yk (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑) ?

[mikurulucky]

So, a couple years ago I witnessed an incident happen in a discord server in the fandom and the owner ended up deleting the server in a panic. There was something about the way the whole thing was handled by all the mods involved that never sat right with me. I hope I'm not the only one who thinks that.

Like, as someone who was close to the owner at the time, it was clear that they needed breaks from running it, but all but a couple of the substitute mods (one took over one time and another took over later on) seemed to not be involved as much, to my memory. Only one substitute mod at a time seemed to address any rulebreaking and one didn't seem to have gotten involved at all.

Not only that, but accusations toward the owner by one of the other mods happened and both of their explanations of the events that happened just didn't add up to one another and it was just so confusing.

I wish this whole thing never happened, multiple people that weren't involved were negatively affected by the whole thing, I know the initial public venting in the server threw me for a loop when it happened. Made me nervous and all.

I'm still kind of afraid of 100% speaking up about the whole thing in detail beyond this, this is just from my memory and what I've heard. The whole situation just made me very uncomfortable is all.

Honestly, it ended up being one more reason why I decided to stay away from this fandom, there were other incidents I've witnessed that lead to me staying away from the tags, but this one was the straw that broke the camel's back for me.

EDIT: Also, from what I remember, the accused was forced to stay up until 2 am, their time, during the confrontation and friends of the accuser even claimed that they faked their physical issues caused by their mental health. I think that was the wrong call and also, no matter what someone does, you don’t go around fake-claiming someone’s mental or physical issues, that’s just wrong.

Not to mention there’s a chance the accused has been harassed after all this. This entire situation could’ve been dealt with in a healthier way than this, it was ALL a mess, poor communication throughout, and I hate that it happened like that.

I had the impression these folks wanted the accused to change, but it also felt more like they wanted them gone with no one to talk to, nothing. Isolation, basically, that’s what it feels like now.

[redjadethewriter]

"You're Brave To Choose 'Not' To Forgive"

While watching an ex-therapist discuss the concept of forgiveness, their perspective intrigued me. They argued that forgiveness can sometimes serve as a way to dissociate from our true feelings. It was a refreshing take, as we often hear phrases like “You need to find forgiveness in your perpetrator” or “You’re brave for being so forgiving.” However, I believe there is a distinction between apologizing for our actions and genuinely working on personal growth and emotional maturity.

Apologizing involves taking accountability for the harm we have caused and actively striving to become a better person. It requires self-reflection and understanding of the root causes of our destructive actions. It is not about seeking forgiveness solely to repair relationships or improve our image in the eyes of others.

In the past, I apologized with the expectation of forgiveness, without truly learning from my mistakes. I yearned to have that person back in my life or to enhance my reputation, rather than sincerely addressing the underlying issues that led to my harmful behavior. I now realize that I needed to take responsibility for my actions and focus on personal growth, rather than seeking forgiveness as a means to move on.

It is essential to delve into the reasons behind our uncontrollable emotions and the destructive actions they may trigger. By understanding the root of these issues, we can work towards genuine personal growth and emotional healing.

The guy spoke about his decision not to forgive his parents, explaining how it saved his life. This choice helped him grieve, reconnect with his emotions, and ultimately recover from his trauma. I can completely understand why he needed to do that, and it made me reflect on my own experiences. Why did we spend so many years constantly forgiving those who hurt us the most? In his case, he had to forgive his parents because he depended on them. He talked about feeling trapped, having nowhere else to go, lacking the financial means to leave, and being too inexperienced to navigate life on his own. It’s devastating when forgiveness becomes the only option, leading to dissociation and enduring constant issues, all while trying to cope with the trauma of being stuck with the very people who caused it.

I have spoken to many people in my life who describe feeling like orphans, despite having parents. These individuals have endured neglect, deficient parenting, and various forms of abuse. Some of them even argue that certain individuals should never become parents in the first place. I deeply admire those who openly admit that they do not want to have children to spare them from inheriting or experiencing trauma. It shows their recognition of the flaws within the current system.

Occasionally, my mother has expressed her wish that she had never been born when overwhelmed by life’s challenges. It’s an unsettling sentiment, but it’s a rare occasion where we find common ground. These conversations may not be healthy, but then again, mentally or emotionally healthy individuals did not raise us, nor did we grow up in a safe environment.

I even had to tell my mother that she doesn’t have to forgive anyone, but she should acknowledge that our entire bloodline is dysfunctional. This dysfunction stems from centuries of accumulated issues and challenges. However, it doesn’t mean that we must subject ourselves to toxicity any longer. Instead, let’s wish them well and distance ourselves from the negativity.

Of course, there are some individuals who choose to believe in forgiveness as a virtue and expose themselves to a lot of nonsense, even when they have the means to separate themselves from it. On the other hand, there are those of us who don’t have that luxury and must find a way to survive by any means necessary.

As for me, I cannot bring myself to forgive anyone for their actions. I simply acknowledge that we are all products of the accumulated nonsense that has plagued our bloodline and society. However, it is crucial that actions are held accountable and not excused.

I once had a friend who desired her parents to take responsibility for their actions. I had to explain to her it’s highly unlikely that she will ever receive that accountability from them, and the same may be true for the rest of us. The individuals who have caused harm would first have to acknowledge to themselves that they have done something truly terrible that has hurt us. Unfortunately, I doubt their ego will allow them to do so, as it would mean they would have to confront their own flaws and potentially view themselves as less than good people, especially if they hold that belief about themselves.

Hence, I concur that forgiveness may not be the most effective approach in life. As he remarked, “It’s courageous of you to choose not to forgive,” and I fully agree. This is true when you have been raised to believe that forgiveness is an empowering act, when in reality, I have never experienced a sense of empowerment or liberation when uttering the words, “I forgive you.” Instead, I would much prefer to witness individuals taking proactive steps to improve themselves as human beings, without expecting my forgiveness. Merely recognizing their struggles and acknowledging that they have personal issues to overcome would suffice.

Thank you!

[nicepersondisorder]

turns one of the people who wants to call me a friend called his shitty ex a narcissist despite me telling our whole friendgroup how he should Not luse it as an insult, at least two other people with cluster b agreeing with me and talking how narcissistic absue is incorrect and harmful wording AND me telling him specifically that i have npd after he said some bullshit about bpd and cluster b in general. his ass is not getting my friendship 🥰

[el-the-cell]

Oh alright. Something beautiful happened to me today. I flew to london to visit my father.. On the train from the airport i hear two women talking in my native language wondering where they should get off. They seem very nice and also maybe lesbians? So i ask them if they need help, and we find out we're going to the exact same underground station. I start heading there but there were several delays and it took a while, we also had to take a bus instead, and so on. They ask about me and what i do, and tell me about their lives, how they both take care of dogs for a living, and live together in the southern countryside and so on, how they were together for 14 years before they got married 2 years ago etc.

By the time we reached our destination it felt like i had known them for a long time, and they hugged me good bye and also i told them how i was so glad to have met them, because i am like them too. And they laughed out loud and were like: sweetie, we knew since the moment we saw you. And they gave me relationship advice, and also general good life tips, and a delicious carnival treat they had brought form their region (as a thank you for getting them to the underground station).

Anyway, i don't meet many queer people irl, especially not any who are my parent's age, and are in such a wholesome relationship, that i can look up to like that. I will treasure this memory for a long time.

[kiwisandpearls]

I just checked what the Genshin community was up to on YouTube and…

good lord.

[betterbemeta]

Sometimes I think this principle about the honse can even be bad.

The fact that working with them at all provokes profound feelings of awareness of your limitations and the need for communication, I mean.

If you are even peripheral to equestrian interest discussion you are going to see a lot of people who believe they understand their horse more than they do. And that's not unique to any hobby or interest; there are people who believe they are better hobby mechanics than they are, better martial artists than they are, etc.

But consider the dog.

The dog comes in a variety of sizes. There's lots of cultural baggage about dogs, and many people buy a dog expecting they don't need to know anything about dogs. They have schema about 'what a dog is' that they were raised with. They aren't prepared to see things from the dog's point of view. You can watch It's Me or the Dog to go see this in action pretty much every time.

It's easier to project this way on small dogs than big dogs because you can more easily manhandle a small dog and force it to do what you need. (not that people don't project on big dogs, some people treat them like muscle cars, it's weird.)

But even big dogs are pretty easy to accommodate in our society. They usually don't need special buildings, for example. The barrier for entry to owning a large dog is comparatively low compared to owning a horse.

It's true that some people can get a horse somewhat cheaply. But a horse's basic needs are harder to meet. They need a lot more space, they need specialized housing, they aren't casual companion animals for your daily life, and more.

A lot of people wouldn't commit to that... only to 'suck' at it.

So with dogs we start at the small end and the bigger and bigger the dog gets the more likely it's able to maul you if you treat it bad... and then I think we actually have a chance to step backwards when we get to a horse-sized critter. Because it is really difficult to put up that level of investment for what feels like a low return.

Like I am not going to put forward some kind of singular Horse Person Projection Theory, ok? there's a vast variety of people out there. Some people are so enamored with the idea of horse that they are willing to do all that work, but are fragile to criticism of an experienced ring teacher etc. Other people can put a saddle on something and decide they know how to ride a horse simply because they can get on top of it. Still others will experience a lot of near misses or accidents while riding their horse and begin to romanticize the patterns. And then you have the people who think they're Dragonriders of Pern... It's not all one thing.

But a horse is still a large beast that cannot directly tell you what it's feeling in human terms, and a large high-investment critter like that is a really enormous human emotional bid. 'Horse people are Like That because you can't do anything with a horse without entering into The Mind of the Horse," yeah, and human beings are also often NOT prepared to respect the mentality of even other humans. Being forced to do this by necessity will make people super weird about if they are any good at it. It is not only a 'spiritual merging' but I think a form of... trauma? of actually NOT being able to dominate a creature, or expect that it will accommodate you through social scripts.

There are many people unprepared for this, as they would be unprepared for alien first contact... but still want to tell their alien adventure story, because aliens, bruh, how could you meet aliens and NOT connect with them?

Me: I'm going to look at horse forums, I bet the drama there is so funny

Me after 4 hours of horse forums: Damn....those people really love and care about their horses...

[justaprankhan]

btw rambling about shipping even though this is clearly 99% family-dynamic centered

I always say I'll ship Han in Un.til Dawn with Mike and Chris, but I never say that GENERICALLY SPEAKING (because threads can change everything, I'm talking about the way I think of them, in some threads she may meet them and decide they are family and NEVER look at them that way), I could ship her with, given threads that lead to it: in TLOU with ALL the teenagers there who are her age or a few years older (like Ellie, Jesse, Dina, in this order), in Fallout with nobody because they are all too old, I think? unless I forgot somebody?, in Telltale with Louis, mah boy; in Bridgerton (in which she's 21) with... maaaaybe Benedict, given that the age difference is sorta controlled by the environment, but also more easily Colin (she'd have a lil crush on Kate because her personality is -chef's kiss- but I'm not touching Kanthony and Anthony was clearly looking at older women himself), in Marvel everybody is too old except... who Peter P.? Maybe? She'd have a hell of a crush on Yelena but while in Mar.vel she can be even older it's a bit too much of an age gap anyway, for modern times?? Still, who wouldn't have a crush on Yelena. In BG3 probably with Gale because he's a nerd, Astarion because he's damaged and flirty (or she'd be terrified of him making fun of her, either way), Karlach because, again, we found her type. In Lost she'd have a crush on Sawyer (groooooss, he's too old) AND Kate AND Sayid (all too old, obviously). In Dragon Age oh my god Alistair, he's sweet and jokes a lot, bullseye. Zevran as the same effect of Astarion. Possibly more I'm forgetting.

these are all potentials like 'if a thread leads to it' but I'm not even remotely trying to lead things there because I'm honestly happy giving her family love AND platonic pure friendship love first. And anyway I can give her a happy ending with some NPC partner.

[zipquips]

i haven't been to class or campus in a few days bc i'm having a tough time and i'm kind of upset none of my friends have noticed or reached out

[lvrclerc]

✶ THE EX EFFECT

summary: being oscar piastri's pr manager is... uneventful, to say the least. that is, until your most recent ex winds up the mclaren garage. in an attempt to prove him something, the arm you end up grabbing is oscar's. now the word is spreading around the paddock that you're his (fake) girlfriend and it turns into a beneficial pr opportunity for him and a perfect cover up for you. except oscar gets a little too good at it, and all the reminders in the world are not enough for you to keep in mind that this is fake.

F1 MASTERLIST | OP81 MASTERLIST

pairing: oscar piastri x pr manager!fake gf!reader

wc: 19.2k

cw: not proofread, past toxic relationship, annoyances/colleagues to lovers, fake dating, he falls first, sort of third act breakup, oscar is slightly ooc, very light angst, season timeline is fucked but who cares! romance! clichés! drama!

note: requested here, i know nothing about pr, this was supposed to be short but i couldn't stop myself so you have this monster of a fic! i kinda hate this. anyways, enjoy!

WHEN YOU FOUND out you’d aced your interview, you thought to yourself, the sleepless nights carrying group projects every other member had procrastinated were worth it. The number of social events you passed on to finish top of your class─valedictorian, Communications major with a Journalism minor─had paid off because you had just landed a job as PR manager in Formula One. Not just in any team, either: McLaren. You were ready to dive into the glamour, the glitz, and the hardships of the sport. To thrive in the pressure, the politics, the media storms. You were ready to shine.

Except you were managing Oscar ‘No Emotions’ Piastri, and nobody thought about telling you that.

Oscar Piastri, a quiet semi-rookie when you first crossed the headquarters’ threshold, who gave you five words max per interview, had a sarcastic comment to every command the team social media manager threw his way, and disappeared at every media opportunity like a ghost, deadpanning instead of showing enthusiasm. Needless to say, there wasn’t much for you to manage.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You nudged him gently at first: helpful suggestions, friendly reminders to loosen up a little. Be more engaging. Play the game. But every time you did, he looked at you as if you'd sprouted a second head and proceeded to swiftly ignore you. The first time it happened, you were offended, and maybe a little concerned. You complained to Charlotte, Lando’s PR manager at the time, and she gave you the wisdom of a woman who had seen some things: “Assert yourself,” she’d said.

It was your first month on the job. You were fresh out of university. You didn’t even know where the best coffee machine was. How were you even supposed to do that?

Still, you decided to try again.

During a long and taxing car drive to the McLarens’ HQ, one you were sharing with Oscar after a last-minute driver swap and a logistical disaster, you figured it was now or never. Assert yourself, Charlotte had said. Be firm. Be confident.

You went for humor instead. A joke. 

Terrible idea, in hindsight.

“You know,” you said lightly, breaking the silence that had stretched across three roundabouts, “you’re kind of boring.”

Oscar simply glanced at you, expressionless, so you clarified. “I mean, you’re not even letting me do my job. Throw me a bone here.”

And it was supposed to be playful. Oscar was supposed to quietly snort, asking how he could finally help you, and boom, you’d finally get to apply all that polished knowledge you’d studied for years.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, puzzled, as if you’d just spoken in Morse code aloud, and said, “Imagine being boring and still more interesting than your ex.”

“What?” You blinked. Saying you’d been taken aback would have been a euphemism.

He didn’t even look away from the road.

“You talk in your sleep. Don’t nap in the common room again.”

Silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t peaceful. It was personal.

That was the moment you decided, with startling clarity, that you very much disliked Oscar Piastri.

You didn’t know you talked in your sleep. You didn’t even know he’d stumbled upon you squeezing a thirty-minute nap in the common room of McLaren’s headquarters. And you certainly didn’t remember the dream you’d had─ or why exactly it had featured your ex out of all people. All you knew was that, no matter what he heard, it was a low blow.

Especially when it came to the one man who somehow slithered his way into your heart just to shatter it from the inside out.

Disliking the person you were assigned to manage wasn’t unheard of in the world of public relations. It was practically a rite of passage. Most of the time, it came with celebrities who were a walking headline: strippers, drugs, arrests, rumors of twins with three different people. That, you could’ve handled.

Oscar wasn’t like that at all. Oscar was just… rude.

Not loud rude, or messy rude. Just… quietly, unbotheredly rude. He was unreadable, dry, and too clever. Not a PR nightmare, just a PR black hole. Just to you.

And if there was one thing you happened to be very good at─besides the job you weren’t even getting the chance to do─it was holding a grudge.

After that episode, you kept your interactions with Oscar to the bare minimum, or as much as you could without being fired. The paycheck was just too good, especially as a fresh grad still recovering from student debt.

Any advice or directions you had for him came during team meetings, always surrounded by enough people that he couldn’t hit you with his usual blank stare. When he messed up during interviews, which was sometimes inevitable, and you followed up with a politely scathing email, bullet points and all. Face-to-face convos were reserved strictly for emergencies… or if you happened to be seated beside him, in which case you communicated via foot. Strategic, silent, and sharp. You’d step on his sneaker under the eyes of all, and he’d keep smiling at the camera like nothing happened. Except for the tiny, throbbing vein on his temple─ oh, you lived for it. 

It was a perfect arrangement. Passive-aggressive peace, mutually tolerated detachment. It worked for both of you.

Sometimes, you caught him glancing your way, wondering why you were still here. But you didn’t care. You had a system, and it was stable. It would’ve stayed that way for a long time, until your or his contract expired, whichever came first.

But then your ex decided to show up, and that messed everything up.

It was a very nice Thursday, dare you say. The kind of morning that made you think the season wouldn't be so bad.

You’d expected Bahrain to be hotter, considering the furnace it had been last year during the start of your first season with McLaren. But today, the air was warm without being unbearable, a soft breeze threading through the paddock and playing with the loose strands of your hair. Your cardigan slipped off one shoulder, but it didn’t cling or suffocate─ just draped like it was meant to be styled that way.

Oscar had just rolled out of the garage, off to log laps and data and whatever mysterious things drivers did during testing, which meant you were officially off-duty for the next three hours. You had time for yourself, maybe for a proper coffee and a chocolate croissant. Eventually, a little conversation with Lando, if you ran into him.

Yeah. This was a good morning.

You should have known it wouldn’t last.

It should have hit you when the coffee machine didn’t work, so you had to walk all the way to Lando’s side of the garage to fetch yourself a cup. It should have hit you when you didn’t even see Lando, and they were out of your favorite chocolate croissant. It should have hit you when you passed by grown men in their forties gossiping like schoolgirls about the new additions to Oscar’s car engineering team, you never heard anything about. It should have hit you when the feelings in your gut made you hesitate near the orange-colored walls.

But it really, really hit you when he grabbed your elbow.

“Y/N?”

Your body locked up like someone had flipped your off switch. The voice was familiar in the worst way─ like a nightmare you thought you’d finally grown out of. You didn’t even need to turn around. Your body already knew. Still, you did, as if asking the universe for confirmation.

And there he was. Theodore Silva, in full McLaren uniform, lanyard slung around his neck. Dark brown hair, messy, tied up in a bun, with his characteristic three o’clock shadow. Your ex-boyfriend. Your heartbreak origin story that, somehow, had the nerve to smile.

You would have backhanded him if the shock didn’t make your mind go blank.

“Wow,” he said, and you felt like a funny coincidence. “Didn’t expect to see you there. Always knew you were the ambitious one.”

Oh, you knew that tone. That patronizing little tone he used when he wanted to seem impressed while reminding you he could always do better. As if you hadn’t told him a million times about your fascination with motorsports and all of its scandals. You weren’t 19 and easily diminished anymore.

You slapped on a polite, seething smile. “I could say the same. I wouldn’t have guessed they hired people with so little… experience. Or the grades to back it up.”

Theodore Silva wasn’t the richest man alive. No, that title was reserved for his father, who owned a few businesses that took off in the early 2010s and left him with an outrageous amount of money and too much to do with it─ including sending his incompetent son to a prestigious business school even though he could barely manage to keep up half of the average required. Even his father’s money couldn’t get him to graduate the same year as you.

But after another year, it could apparently get him a job at McLaren.

Yet, Theodore still chuckled, brushing off your remark as if it were just another inside joke you two shared. “They just brought me on- engineering for Piastri’s car. Funny how life works out, huh?”

He was on Oscar’s team. You’d be obligated to see him, be near him, every day. You didn’t answer, just stared at him blankly, too busy cataloguing every sharp object in the vicinity, trying to ignore the twist of your heart.

“Small world,” he added to your silence.

You tried to smile again, but you knew it came out weird when the words that came out of your mouth sounded more like a screech than anything else. “Smaller than I’d like.”

Theodore tilted his head, studying you with calm eyes, as if he hadn’t watched you, arms dangling near his side, as you broke down in his apartment’s parking lot. “You look good,” he said softly. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

You stared at him.

Hell no. He had that voice, wearing guilt like an optional accessory, looking at you like he was the one that got away. The nerves. You hated how your chest tightened, the smell of his cologne, and how he thought he could just waltz in, throw some compliments around, hoping to win you back.

Fuck him. “I’m doing very well, Theodore. Loving my job. How’s Anna?”

That landed. He physically winced, scratching his neck. “We, uh─ We broke up, actually.”

How surprising.

“So─”

You weren’t about to let him finish. You weren’t about to let him think he even had the sliver of a chance. He wasn’t about to wreck the life you built for yourself by simply being here, no. Instead, you did the sanest thing anyone would have done in your place.

You lied.

“I have a boyfriend, actually.” The words came out so fast you almost flinched, not registering them yourself.

Theodore paused, eyebrows lifting. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, wildly too sharp for the context. “He’s great. Amazing, supportive. Emotionally available. You know─ faithful.”

He blinked, and his fake-casual mask slipped for a second. “What’s his name?” He asked, all lightness gone from his expression. 

That’s when it hit you. Unspoken panic rose in your throat because, believe it or not, you didn’t have a boyfriend. You barely even had a social life─ you spent most nights in bed with a sheet mask and Youtube videos. If you hesitated now, even for a second, Theodore would know. And he’d never let go, flashing you his smug little grin of his, strutting around the garage for a season, thinking he had a chance.

Not today, Satan.

The garage door behind you creaked open and footsteps echoed in your direction.

You didn’t look, didn’t think. You just grabbed the first arm that brushed against yours.

“This is him!” You said, an octave too high. “My boyfriend.”

And Oscar Piastri, your emotionally repressed, sarcasm-saturated PR headache of a driver, froze mid-step. As much as you wanted it, there wasn’t any way to back out now. His eyes dropped to your grip, white-knuckled, around his bicep. Then to you. Then to Theodore.

“... Sorry, what?” He said under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Babe,” you hissed between your teeth, eyes still set on Theodore and smiling like your life depended on it. “Go with it.”

Finally, your ex managed to speak up. He was frozen, mouth half-opened in shock. “This is your─ You’re dating─ Oscar Piastri is your boyfriend?”

Oscar opened his mouth, definitely to ask what was going on, but you beat him to it. “Yes! Yep. It’s, um─ it’s very new. A few months.”

You finally turned to face him fully.

His brown eyes, sharp and unreadable as ever, flicked across your face─ first your eyes, then your mouth, then down to where your fingers were still digging into his arm. There was confusion there, definitely, but also a kind of calculation unique to him.

“This is Theodore,” you added, swallowing thickly. “He’s one of your new engineers.” You hesitated. “... and my ex.”

That’s when something clicked.

You felt it. The subtle shift in Oscar’s expression─ the way his shoulders straightened or the brief flicker of understanding behind his eyes. He glanced at Theodore just once before looking back at you. You pleaded silently. With your eyes, with your fingers brushing lightly over the sleeve of his fireproof top, even with the part of your lips that whispered please without making a sound.

But the longer you stood there, the more the panic crept up your spine. Oscar didn’t owe you anything. The man barely liked you. He could’ve thrown you under the bus without blinking, called you out right there and made your life ten times harder.

Which is why you almost jumped when his hand, much larger, reached up and gently settled above yours.

“Ah, Theodore,” Oscar said, like the name physically bored him. “Nice to meet you. Sorry about my reaction,” he added, fingers tightening just slightly over yours. “I just didn’t expect… this.”

He turned to glance at you. An innocent smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

Theodore snapped out of the shock that froze him into place, and his smile flickered. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Oscar said casually. “All the highlights.”

You blinked up at him, heart in your throat, unsure whether to laugh or sob. Was Oscar Piastri helping you?

“The highlights?” Theodore asked, dumbfounded.

Oscar hummed, thumb absentmindedly brushing over your hand─ just once, like punctuation. You weren’t dreaming, he was playing along. And the look on Theodore’s face was worth every single of it.

“Funny, she never mentioned you, or the fact she was dating an… F1 driver, as a whole.” As if you even talked to him anymore!

Oscar shrugged, way too relaxed. “That’s all right. We’re keeping it on the down low for now, I’m sure you understand. And we don’t do much… talking, anyways.”

Your jaw nearly hit the tarmac. You stepped on Oscar’s foot, a habit by now, and he barely flinched. Apparently, that was enough for Theodore. “Well,” he said slowly, eyes narrowing. “Guess I’ll see you two around the garage.”

“Guess I’ll see you around my car,” Oscar answered, a little too quickly.

Theodore just glanced at him before muttering, “Small world.”

“So small,” you nodded stiffly.

The second he was out of sight, you yanked Oscar by the wrist like a woman possessed, dragging him to the nearest utility alleyway─ dim, slightly greasy smelling, and blessedly empty. For how long, though? You didn’t know. “Okay,” you hissed. “Wow, what the hell was that line?! We don’t do much talking?!”

Oscar raised a condescendent eyebrow, arms crossed on his chest. “I don’t know, you tell me, Mrs. This Is My Boyfriend. I just followed along. You’re welcome, by the way.”

You groaned so loud it echoed, looking up to the ceiling, hoping answers will fall off it and solve your life, simultaneously pacing a short line across the floor. “I know what I did, alright? I just─ I panicked! That guy─ he… he cheated on me. With my best friend. In my own bed. And I just─ he looked so smug and self-satisfied standing here like I’d run back to him. I needed to shove something in his face, show him I’m fine. Better. And I didn’t look and you were there and your arm was right there and now I’m going to have an aneurysm─”

Oscar blinked. “Wow. Okay. That’s… a lot of information, considering we barely know each other.”

“Thank you so much for the support, Oscar. I wonder whose fault that is, exactly!”

“I’m just saying. That was a whole soap opera act in thirty seconds,” he snapped back, rolling his eyes.

You exhaled harshly. “Whatever. I didn’t actually mean to drag you into this, okay? I’ll fix it. I’ll… tell him it was a misunderstanding or… I’ll figure it out. I’ll PR my way out of this, because whether you like it or not, it’s actually my job─”

“It’s fine,” he said, cutting you off, eyes closing briefly like he needed to reboot.

You paused. “Huh?”

“I said it’s fine.” His eyes opened again, locking onto yours. “Now that he thinks you’re dating someone, his delusional ego’s going to spiral and he’ll leave you alone. Especially if it’s someone… above in station, let’s say. Not to stroke my own ego.” He tilted his head, tone flat. “He looks like the insecure type.”

“He is,” you aggressively agreed, pointing at him like he’d just cracked the Da Vinci code, and you swore you saw his lips pull up. “So we just… leave it alone?”

“Let it die down,” Oscar continued with a casualness you could only hope to replicate. “Maybe have a conversation here and there for consistency, but that's about it. It’s not like he’s going to go around bragging that his ex-girlfriend is dating the guy he’s working for.”

You snorted. “I think he’d rather die.”

Oscar’s mouth twitched, trying not to smile. “Exactly.”

You sighed, finally letting your shoulders drop as the tension bled out of you. The adrenaline was still rushing through your veins, waterfall-like, but slowly softening, giving way to a quiet panic that you could make do with until the end of the day. It’s fine, you told yourself, it’ll be fine. “Okay,” you murmured, giving him a small nod. “Thank you. Seriously.”

“Don’t mention it,” Oscar replied, already turning away. “Literally.”

“Deal,” you said. “Never again.”

The plan was to return to your regularly scheduled programming─ distant and professional. With the way Theodore worked (or more accurately, didn’t), you were pretty sure he wouldn’t last long in the McLaren garage anyway. Life would go back to normal soon enough. You were sure of it.

Rule number one of PR management: never assume anything. Certainty was a myth. Because as long as there was even a sliver of doubt, it could all go wrong. Maybe you’d gotten complacent in your ways, Oscar never gave you anything to work with after all, but you really thought that this time, it would be fine. You slept like a rock that night, the kind of sleep where your mind recharged so hard it forgot you had responsibilities in the morning.

That’s probably the reason it took you so long to notice. First, it was the way people lingered as you passed. How engineers muttered behind their coffee cups and went dead silent when you got too close. You weren’t used to this level of attention─ as a whole, you were a pretty discreet presence in the paddock, so when the smiles came and the knowing smirks got thrown your way, you started becoming suspicious.

“Morningggg,” Lando sing-songed as you entered the McLaren hospitality tent.

“Good… morning?” You muttered, narrowing your eyes as you plopped down next to him. “What’s got you in such a good mood today?” You asked as you bite into the chocolate croissant you’d been craving since yesterday.

Lando studied you. Waiting.

“Do I have to guess, or…?”

The curly-haired man sighed dramatically, as if your question alone had aged him. “No, but I thought we were friends. Guess I was wrong, since I had to hear it from my race engineer. During briefing.”

You blinked. “Okay, what the hell are you on?” you admitted. “Have you been doing crack? Is that it?”

“Whatever, keep your secrets, Y/N,” Lando conceded, a smug little grin on his lips. “You’ll talk to me when you’re ready. Or I’ll just get the truth from Osc’. He seems… chatty, lately.” 

You couldn’t imagine Oscar Piastri being chatty to save your life. “What? What does Oscar have to do with anything?” But Lando was already up and walking off.

Alone with your chocolate croissant and your detonated sense of peace, you scanned the room, eyes darting in panic.

Across the tent, Oscar stood by the coffee station, talking to a staff member with his hands-in-pockets casual disinterest. His eyes met yours, and he paused mid-sentence, one eyebrow raised in that really? kind of way that made you want to slap him. There was a silent question in it. 

One you didn’t have an answer to.

The answer actually came knocking that night─ quite literally. Loud, incessant, unforgiving knocks at your hotel room door.

You were in the middle of taking off your makeup, cotton pad in one hand and dabbing at your under-eye concealer like it personally offended you. “Seriously?” You audibly commented, exhausted. It was nearly 10 PM. You’d done your job, answered more emails than anyone should in one day. The very least the universe could offer was twenty-four uninterrupted minutes of peace.

But the knocking didn’t stop, so you opened the door with a groan and a complaint on your tongue, only for the sound to die the moment you registered who was standing on the other side.

Oscar Piastri. In a hoodie, track pants, socks that did not match, and looking far too calm for someone who’d just banged on your door as if the apocalypse was tracking him down. You stared in confusion, words refusing to come out of your mouth no matter how hard you tried.

“Sooo… we might have a problem,” Oscar finally spoke in the silence stretching between you.

He walked in your room with no hesitation, without you even inviting him in─ the audacity! Sure, yeah, come on in, ruin my night, you thought. He glanced around, sizing your room and seemingly expecting paparazzis behind the mini-bar, before turning to face you with a flat look.

“What’s this problem that has you acting so dramatic for─”

“You’re trending on F1 Twitter. Well, we are,” he said simply, tone measured. “Someone took a photo. You holding my arm next to your ex. In the garage. And the caption is─”

He pulled out his phone. A screencap of big, red, capital letters: IS OSCAR PIASTRI SOFT-LAUNCHING HIS PR MANAGER?

It took a while for reality to set in. 

You stared at the screen blankly, eyes flicking from Oscar to the headline, erratic. Soft-launching. Soft-launching. You tasted blood in your mouth. Oh, no─ it was actually just your soul leaving your body. “This is not happening,” you mumbled, blinking rapidly. “It’s fake. This is fake. I’m hallucinating.”

Oscar hummed. “Want me to read you the quote tweets?”

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare.”

He shrugged and put his phone down. You sat down on your bed, hands flying to your temple. “Okay, okay. No big deal. I’ll just tell the team we were talking about… a car issue. A steering problem. Brake pedal feedback. That sounds fake, right? Like, real-enough fake.”

Oscar gave you a look. “You could try that,” he said slowly, “but your ex has apparently been sniffing around the garage asking people if we’re actually dating.”

“No way.”

“I overheard Lando’s race engineer telling him. He asked five different people.” A beat. “He’s not subtle.”

You could feel your eyes twitch. “Jesus Christ.”

Oscar crossed his arms, leaning back against the mini-bar, staring at you. “So I don’t think your little oh it was just a brake issue! excuse is going to cut it.”

“I’m going to end it all,” you said, dropping your face in your hands. “I’m going to crawl into my media kit and live there forever.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ll bring you snacks.”

“How are you not freaking out? Like, at all? It’s your face on every headline, and my job on the line!” You didn’t want to think about the repercussions this would have on any future jobs you might want, or your actual one. Future employers were going to Google you and find dating rumors about a fake relationship with a driver you were managing.

“Oh, I freaked out,” Oscar cut in smoothly, walking toward you. “Trust me, I had a whole mini-existential crisis in the elevator.”

“That’s good for you, Oscar. Why aren’t you still freaking out?”

“Because I figured this might be a job for my PR manager,” he said, toned laced with sarcasm. “Who also happens to be the cause of the PR disaster in the first place.”

You opened your mouth just to close it, and to open it again. “That’s fair.”

“And you said I was too boring.” Oscar gave you a dry smile, and weirdly, that was the moment it clicked.

You were his PR manager. This─whatever mess the universe had decided to dump in your lap─wasn’t just a disaster. It was an opportunity. A viral, narrative-controlling opportunity. The kind of chaos you could work with. You’d complained that Oscar gave you nothing: too quiet and acidic. Well, he certainly wasn’t that anymore, or almost.

You straightened up, the panic slowly morphing into focus. Your heart was still pounding, but now to the rhythm of the plan puzzling itself in your head. No one had trained you for what to do when you were the story but if anyone could improvise, it was. Your idea was wild, unhinged, even. But you knew better than anyone that the line between unhinged and brilliant was just the execution. And if you played this right, it could be exactly what the both of you needed.

You turned to Oscar slowly, the corner of your lips twitching into something almost insane. “Oscar,” you said carefully. “What if we didn’t let this go to waste?”

“Come again?”

“I mean, this,” you gestured vaguely toward his phone, screen down on the counter. “Oscar Piastri’s mystery romance unveiled, blah blah blah. It’s a mess, but it doesn’t have to be.”

Oscar’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “... You’re about to say something crazy.”

You got up from your spot on the bed to face him fully. “Fake dating.”

“There it is.”

“No, seriously, hear me out,” When he started taking a few steps back, you rushed toward him, hands animated. “People are already talking. We can’t undo the articles or stop the whispers, but we can own the story. It’s simple PR strategy: if the narrative’s out of our hands, we grab it back, shift the focus and make it work for us.”

“And what, exactly, would we be gaining from this?” Oscar looked deeply, deeply unconvinced.

You got closer to him and his eyes widened discreetly, quickly shifting from your eyes to your lips, and to the one finger you were holding up in front of his face. “One, you get press engagement. You’ve been called the human spreadsheet by more than one person─”

“Never heard of that.”

“Okay, maybe it’s only me, but my point still stands. This? It gives you dimension. Warmth. Personality. More people of all age groups rooting for you.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m dating you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much. Two,” you continued without missing a beat, “I get a break from Theodore. He’s more likely to leave me alone if he thinks you’re in the picture long-term, or as close as we can get to it.”

“Isn’t that the reason you picked me in the first place?”

“I was desperate. You were here and tall.”

Oscar shrugged at your words, quietly agreeing with you, which egged you on for the last point of your argument. “Three, if this all goes up in flames, we just say we broke up. That wouldn’t be the ideal outcome until Theodore’s out of the picture, but if push comes to shove, we do this quietly. Classic ‘we ask for privacy during this time’, then ghost the media. End of story, and we go back to our ways.”

The silence stretching between the walls of your hotel room seemed to last a lifetime too long as the Australian studied you carefully, arms crossed on his chest. “You’ve really thought about this.”

“Actually, I just did. I’m that good.”

He exhaled loudly at your comment, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation, and you tried your best not to let a little quip past your lips. “And how long would this have to last?” Oscar asked, voice muffled by his palm.

“Until Theodore goes away, which shouldn’t be more than a few weeks knowing his talents. Enough to let the story peak and settle and it would include a couple public appearances, some social media crumbs─ low effort, maximum payoff for you.”

Hope swirled in your chest with the intensity of a storm when he dropped his hands, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

“And your ex leaving you alone would be the only thing you’d gain out of all this?”

You didn’t hesitate a single second when you answered. “That, and peace. Maybe a little petty revenge over him and honestly? A challenge.” Because this is what you’ve been dying to do ever since you stepped foot in the paddock a year ago.

And maybe Oscar saw the hellfire of determination in your eyes as he scanned you, either that or you sold your reckless idea with the confidence of a politician, because after long, skeptical minutes. He held out his hand, and the overwhelming weight pressing against your shoulders seemed to evaporate in the flight of a hundred butterflies.

“Fine, count me in,” he said, voice a little hoarse, “but if it all goes to shit, you’re taking the blame.”

You hastily took his hand, his rough palm fitting into yours, and you blamed the electricity rushing in your spine and the powdery pink of his cheeks on the ridiculous situation and the relief coursing through your body. “Deal, but it won’t go to shit if you keep up with me.”

The ghost of a smirk pulled at his lips, which made you smile. Your heartbeat was thundering in your chest and the heaviness of what you’d just agreed upon settled over you like a second skin.

Fake dating Oscar Piastri. How hard could it be?

First thing you did the next morning was to warn a handful of team members: there was no world in which running a fake dating scheme in secret wouldn’t come back to bite you and frankly, your job and reputation were already hanging by a thread due to yesterday’s PR earthquake. You and Oscar pulled Lando, Zak, and a few key staff members─social media, comms, and PR support─into the smallest available hospitality room you could find, locking the door behind you.

You explained the situation as fast as you could, hands raised in surrender under their gazes. How the rumors were technically true but not real, what conclusions you came to in such little time, and the thought process behind your idea, carefully excluding Theodore’s implication.

“Wouldn’t lying to the public make it worse?” Someone from comms piped up, deadpan.

You winced. “Damage control isn’t always about truth. It’s about optics, controlling the narrative before it controls us. We’ve assessed the risk, this buys us time to refocus headlines onto the cars, not the garage drama all while boosting Oscar’s popularity.”

Zak blinked at you as if you’d grown a second head. “You assessed the risk?”

“With me,” Oscar added from his chair, facing you. “I see the strategic upside. I’ll blow over in a few weeks, it’s fine. No harm done.” You sent him a silent thank you, holding his eyes just long enough for him to notice.

“Soo, when’s the wedding?” Lando piped up, leaning forward. “Or do we just have the break-up arc planned?”

You ignored him, preferring to explain the conditions of you and Oscar’s little agreement: no posts unless you greenlit them, no press comments and if anyone asked, yes, you were together. Happy. In love, but still casual. Social media staff were already scribbling notes or rapidly typing on their keyboards, and Zak looked like he might die of a heart attack.

So were you. Still, when you glanced at Oscar during one of McLaren’s CEO's silent breakdowns, you couldn’t help but share a silent laugh.

The following days were catastrophic, to say the least. Navigating the Bahrain paddock for the last of testing and media obligations for the first Grand Prix of the season the week after had turned into a minefield of knowing looks and suspicious stares. You and Oscar were learning how to walk the tightrope of fake affection with the grace of two toddlers. A few shared smiles, a shoulder brush, but every interaction felt rehearsed, taken off a badly written script. By some given miracle, it did work on some people but not all, and especially not Theodore. You could feel his eyes on you everytime you walked through the garage, narrowed as if waiting for a slip-up, but you’d rather die than prove him right.

By the end of the first few days, Oscar’s social media manager handed you a photo of the both of you to approve for Instagram─ one where Oscar had his arm slung around your shoulder awkwardly while you stood next to the car, all too aware of the massive lens pointed right at you. It was…

“It looks like we lost a bet,” you muttered, horrified.

Oscar leaned in over your shoulder to look at the picture. “Oh. Yeah, that’s bad.”

You threw your hands in the air, movements more powerful than words to transcribe the frustration elevating your blood pressure. Before a flurry of complaints and insults could slip past your lips, Oscar spoke.

“Okay, maybe it’s not very convincing, but it’s also because we haven’t figured out how to sell it correctly.”

“What a revolutionary thought.” He shrugged your comment off. 

“Well, I figured since we skipped the whole dating part and went straight to the whole madly-in-love thing, maybe it’s time we… backtrack?”

You felt the lightbulb switch on in your mind, eyes widening in realization. “Backtrack… like a backstory?”

Oscar nodded solemnly. “A timeline, yeah. How it started, how it’s going, first dates and everything. The whole fake fairytale.”

You couldn’t argue with that. You hated to admit he was currently beating you at your job, but Oscar was right. People were already speculating about the two of you a week in your fake relationship; everyone, including you, needed some foundations to be settled and fast. “Okay, alright. We can figure this out tonight, preferably in my hotel room since it apparently became the headquarters of this,” you made circle hand gesture between the two of you, “operation. Also because nobody will bust us in there.”

Oscar showed up at an ungodly hour of the evening─ the clock showcased numbers that hurt your sleep cycle, but nothing made the press talk more than going to your girlfriend’s room in the middle of the night, right? He knocked once before letting himself in, dressed in the same sweats and hoodie as a week ago, and holding a suspiciously large energy drink. “I come bearing poison,” Oscar announced, lifting the can.

You squinted at him from your spot on the bed-your hotel room lacking a desk-surrounded by a battlefield of notebooks and your wheezing laptop that was one short breath away from the grave. “Perfect, that’ll keep us up. We have work to do. Welcome to the Ted-talk-slash-lie-building meetup.”

Oscar kicked off his shoes, walking toward you. He eyed the chaos with a low whistle. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding.”

You handed him a purple glitter pen without even glancing in his direction. “Sit your ass down and write with honor, Piastri.”

“Glitter? Really?”

“Don’t patronize me. I love glitter gel pens. Better memorize that if you want to be a good fake boyfriend.”

Oscar snorted but didn’t protest as he took the pen, sitting down next to an open notebook on the edge of your bed. He cracked the energy drink open with a hiss, and you took it from his hands before he had the time to bring it to his lips. “Jesus, you’re bossy.” You shot him a look. “Alright, alright. Where do we begin?”

You exhaled, eyes settling on your computer screen. A bright, pink page was showcasing Date Idea: Where To Take Your Beloved For A First Date? “With the basics. When we started dating, how we met, how many fake months we’ve been in fake love, which side of the bed you sleep in for continuity purposes.”

“Right side.”

“Wrong answer. It’s mine.”

You gradually settled in a surprisingly comfortable rhythm. Between the quiet clicking of the keyboard, the buzzing of Chinese nightlife outside your window, and the rhythmic scratch of the glittery ink on paper, you and Oscar brainstormed.

Ideas came slowly at first, awkward and stilted the way two kids forced together in a group project would work─ which it was, in a way. It didn’t take you long to realize you didn’t know Oscar at all, and he didn’t know you either, and the recognition of that fact put a certain strain on your interactions, as much as there already was. Yet, the tension softened as the minutes from midnight trickled away. You found yourself building a history out of thin air, questions after questions and jokes after jokes─ inside jokes that didn’t exist and justified why you laughed so hard at ‘soft tyres’, a first date that involved a tragically undercooked lasagna which Oscar and you had to fight over because neither of you wanted to look like a bad cook. You chose May 21st as the anniversary date because it sounded cute. Oscar protested, “How can a date even be cute? It doesn’t make sense.” He still settled on it.

Snorts, teasing looks as you drew a clumsy timeline in the middle of your designated ‘Relationship Basics’ notebook. “What about our first kiss?”

“Mmh, that’s a good one. People are going to ask.”

“Duh,” you fought the smile on your lips with little effort. “C’mon. You were wearing that hideous orange puffer, it was raining, and I was mad because you didn’t share your umbrella.”

“Oh right, and you were soaked and… okay, you said I owed you a kiss for compensation. Sounds like something you’d do,” Oscar replied, leaning forward in mock seriousness.

You made a sound, halfway between a gasp and a laugh. “You do remember!”

He laughed. A real one, warm and easy, going right through your chest. You quickly joined him, and his eyes lingered on you a second too long after the joke faded. “I made it up with hot chocolate later, though,” he added with a lazy smile that didn’t belong in any scenarios.

You scribbled that in your notebook. “Ew. We are sickeningly cute.”

And somewhere between a fabricated ski trip and the great debate of who said ‘I love you’ first, something shifted, just a little. Oscar had moved from the edge of the bed to sit beside you, arms behind his head against the headrest, legs stretched on the covers. His knees bumped yours every now and then, but you didn’t flinch away. The notebooks laid abandoned now, pens scattered across the duvet. Your laptop screen dimmed after an hour of neglect and your limbs were heavy with the sweet stickiness of fatigue that only came when you laughed too much and too hard.

You glanced over at Oscar and his hair was a little messy, eyes a little sleepy, softened by the light of the space. He was already watching you. “You know,” he spoke up. “For a so-called meeting, it suspiciously looks like a sleepover.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, tiredness winning over your resolve. “It’s almost four,” he continued,  voice lower in the hush of your hotel room. “We’ve officially survived our first week of fake dating. Well, we did four hours ago, but…”

“And we haven’t accidentally gotten married in Vegas like they do in movies. I’d call that a win.”

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely not because of our amazing chemistry.”

A huff escaped you again, and your head fell back against the pillows. Shanghai still hummed outside the window, quieter this time, and the city lights threaded through the thin curtains you pulled. The room was just as still, if warmer─ you could feel the tired blush on your cheeks and the heat of Oscar’s thigh against yours. “You know, you’re not as annoying as I thought,” you said, a lazy sigh curling into your words.

It came out like an offhand casual observation, but you didn’t meet his eyes. Truth be told, you were ashamed. The whole year you’d convinced yourself Oscar Piastri was a nuisance and a stain on your work life had been shattered in the shine of glitter pens and the drafting of a romance novel-worthy story. Because he was actually kind of funny, and even though he delivered his jokes like he was bored half the time which you used to interpret as condescance, they still made you laugh. He listened when you spoke. He had a dry, understated charm you were starting to recognize as very authentic.

And he hadn’t complained once tonight. Not when you made him pick an anniversary date for the third time, or reenact a fake first meeting with your best friend. He was just… there.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he replied, but his voice melted at his usual edges. “You’re alright too. Surprisingly.”

When you turned your head, you found he was already looking at you for the second time, and a moment passed. You gave him a smile, barely there, and he looked away. “Guess we do make a decent team,” Oscar mumbled.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you mimicked him. He snorted.

You walked him to your door after an exchange of soft chuckles and breathy goodnights. Fake dating Oscar would be harder than you thought, but it definitely wouldn’t be as bad as you made it out to be.

You weren’t sure what it was between the sleep deprivation, the amateur acting, or the emotional whiplash of building an entire relationship with a guy you were only acquainted with, but something about it shifted the rhythm you’d gotten used to. Whatever happened during that night, being Oscar Piastri’s fake girlfriend became easier after it.

It started with texts. You couldn’t remember which one of you sent the first non-work related one, but it became a daily occurrence of linking the other pictures the press took of the both of you.Oscar would often comment something along the lines of Do I look like a man held hostage or a man in love? Be honest. You’d roll your eyes everytime, answering: All I can say is that I’m not flattered. At first, it was mostly logistical─ scheduling photo ops, making sure neither of you veered your scheme off the track. But somewhere between sarcastic captions and oddly flattering candids, the conversations grew longer. It became a way to kill time, a habit.

Oscar was easy to talk to, which was a thought that would’ve originally terrified you. Except the conversations carried off screen, and you found yourself enjoying them an awful lot.

Along the lines of your ruse, you started saving seats beside each other during lunch breaks or waiting up for the other to go back to the hotel together─ not for the cameras or Theodore’s heinous stare, but for a reason as simple as the enjoyment of the other’s company. Oscar was more than a colleague by that point, he became something else that you couldn’t quite call a friend the way you called Lando one. You stopped overthinking every step you took beside him, every glance and sentence. You had your script, sure. But more than that, you had a quiet kind of understanding. He knew when to press his hand to the small of your back when it was needed, and you knew when to lean in just enough to sell the look of something intimate. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was practiced. Comfortable, even. Maybe, just maybe, a little fun. Which is why you couldn’t tell when the little things started to feel not as little anymore.

Rare were the times you arrived late to a team briefing, but a late-night spiral reviewing articles about your little charade had stolen more sleep than you’d expected, and for the first time since you started out at McLaren, your alarms lost the battle. You slipped in your seat next to Oscar, a movement you barely thought about anymore, breathless, cheeks warm from your run across the paddock and the drizzle misting your hair. Your pants were drenched, there was a pounding behind your eyes and you were thirty minutes away from biting someone’s head off if they even dared mention your tardiness.

Oscar didn’t say anything at first, just glanced your way as he often did, eyes flicking up and down once. You braced for a comment, a joke, preparing to hold yourself back from doing something you’ll regret doing to your fake boyfriend in public.

Instead, he leaned down, reaching for a paper bag next to him, from where he pulled out a steaming paper cup and a chocolate croissant that he slid toward you without a word. Your name was scribbled across the side of the wrapper along with your very specific order, down to the temperature.

You looked at Oscar. At your breakfast. Then at Oscar again. “How─”

“You weren’t answering my texts,” he said, still looking forward. “Figured you’d be late, so I got you this. You get cranky with no sleep or caffeine in your system.”

“I don’t get cranky,” you muttered, wrapping your cold hands around the hot beverage. “You get sassy when you don’t sleep.”

“Sure,” Oscar said casually, meeting your eyes for the first time since you sat down. “There’s extra vanilla, by the way.”

You didn’t answer, just rolled your eyes, but his gaze was still on you when Zak burst through the door. The fact he remembered that you took extra vanilla syrup in your extra hot latte and that your favorite pastry was a chocolate croissant should be nothing, because you’re sure you told him at some point during your many one-on-one briefings. Except it wasn't. Not really.

Then, there was the flight. There was nothing the fans and the media loved more, and Theodore despised just as much, than couple apparitions at airports, which led to Oscar’s social media manager to nudge you into the believable. That’s how you found yourself catching the same flight as Oscar, Lando and a few others on their jet. It had become recurrent in the past few weeks and you’d never admit it out loud, but there were non-neglectable perks: fewer crying babies, more space, and the occasional poker game where you absolutely obliterated Lando’s ego. You know I’m just that good at acting, you’d said, throwing a cheeky smile at Oscar that he gave you right back.

This time, though, none of you had the energy to talk, let alone play cards. It had been an exhausting and emotional race weekend─ back-to-back media obligations underneath the fire of reignited on-track rivalries, rain delays, and disputes amid the team you couldn’t legally disclose. The jet was unusually quiet as it took off into the night sky, everyone slipping into their respective silence.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You usually didn’t in airplanes, they stressed you out too much─ you’d just leaned against the window for a little moment, eyes fluttering closed. The buzz of the engine and the soft cabin light blurred the world into static and you drifted away in a split second, as soon as the city was turned to insignificant holes in the black tapestry underneath you.

After a while, you felt a warmth, subtle at first. There was something solid against your shoulder, enough to make you crack one eye open.

Oscar’s head was resting against yours, and you were tucked comfortably against him. At some point, he’d dozed off too, and the both of you had slumped toward each other in your sleep. You could’ve moved, you know you would have a few weeks back, but you didn’t. You let your eyes close again and let yourself drift in and out of sleep along the quiet sync of your breath. His arms wrapped around your waist, your legs rested on his knees, and you weren’t quite sure how long you stayed like that─ten minutes, an hour─but when you finally woke up again, it was to the obnoxious flick of Lando’s phone camera and his barely contained laughter.

It was the accumulation of those little things, the seemingly insignificant moments that, piled together, made them bigger than they should have been. It was when Oscar took the habit of sleeping in your hotel room after qualifications to watch a movie under the pretense of simulating ‘passionate encounters’. It was when, one morning, bleary-eyed, you accidentally threw on his hoodie with his number printed on the back, and his hands lingered on the small of your back a little more possessively that day. It was when you were running low on your orange glitter gel pen and a full set was mysteriously delivered to your door, even if you didn’t need one. In the way his pupils dilated ever so slightly when you caught him staring, when he pointed right at you after his podiums, how your skin fizzed with heat for hours after he kissed your cheek in front of the cameras.

But what really blurred the line was the night in Spain.

It hadn’t been a particularly thrilling race─ tame from lights out to chequered flag. Oscar had finished P3, Lando snagged P2, both holding their qualifying positions with sharp determination. But the crowd had been wild, the champagne flowing and before you knew it, Lando dragged you and Oscar into Carlos’ plans for the night. All that happened after was a blur of neon lights and ear-shattering singing.

The walk back to the hotel was your idea- just a short stroll through warm cobblestone streets, the air sweet with late night chatter and the slow beginning of summer. You and Oscar snuck out the back entrance of the club, the latter clearly not fitting in the Spanish nightlife, your heels dangling from your fingers and his cap pulled low to hide the flush of his cheeks. Both of you were just tipsy enough to feel invincible, shoulders brushing as you exchanged anecdotes and very real inside jokes, something about not-much-talking, laughter echoing against the dead of the night.

It was quiet for a moment after that, the comfortable kind that sometimes settled between you. Oscar decided to break it.

“You know,” he started, softer than usual. “I’ve been meaning to ask─ why didn’t you like me at first?”

You turned your head up slowly, the reality of the question dawning on you. You raised an eyebrow. “What made you think I didn’t like you?”

“Come on.” Oscar gave you a look, and in the dark of his eyes you swore you saw the polite, Shakespearean insults you sneaked in your emails, the harsh tap on your foot on his, flashing in the quarter of a second. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, maybe I didn’t. At first.” 

He kept his eyes on you, waiting. You sighed, tipping your head back to look at the night sky─ no stars were visible, but it didn’t take away from the beauty of it. “You were just─” You paused, choosing your words carefully. “Honestly, you were rude, smug and condescending. I felt like you were trying to make my job harder than it should be by just- not doing anything. People were talking about you as this nice, quiet boy and I secretly wanted to bash your head against a wall.”

A beat. “Wow. That’s brutal,” he simply answered. “I don’t get how I gave that impression. I always thought you were the one being rude to me.”

Your head whipped in his direction and you could physically feel the disbelief splashed across your features. “Me? You started it!”

“How?”

“That one car ride in my third month,” you deadpanned. “You made a very snobbish comment about a dream I had about my ex. You said, and I quote─” you cleared your throat dramatically, dropping your voice to the flattest Oscar impression known to man, “‘Imagine being boring and still more interesting than your ex.’” Oscar was half-laughing by that point. “Oh, don’t you dare! You also said something about how I shouldn’t sleep in the HQ again, but for the record? It was my first triple-head─”

He held a hand up in mock surrender, mouth agape in stupor. “Is this what started this whole… passive-aggressiveness?”

“Uh… yeah? It was unnecessarily arrogant!”

Oscar made a face. “Unnecessary, sure. I get it. But you know what was also unnecessary? The intimidating, pretty new girl at McLaren─who also happened to be my new PR Manager─calling me boring to my face.”

The words hung in the air between the two of you. Your froze, caught off-guard by the ease with which the compliment slipped out. Oscar was continuing with his rant, either completely oblivious or choosing not to care. You cut him off. “... You thought I was pretty?”

That’s when he faltered, his lips parted in a half-word as if he hadn’t realized what he said before you pointed it out. Oscar’s gaze flicked to yours, then away, suddenly far more interested in the cracks of the sidewalk than anything else. “Well, yeah,” he took off his cap and brushed a hand through his hair like it might undo the sentence. “I mean, you still are. It’s not like that changed.”

It would be lying to say you had considered the possibility that you caused the tension between you and Oscar in the first place. While your sad attempt at humor might have been the catalyst, something must’ve already been simmering under the surface for things to go cold so quickly after it. Your heart gave the tiniest, traitorous jump, chest pulling in a reluctant way, at the thought he’d noticed you then. You despised how easy it was to smile, to fall into the warmth of the possibility.

“Oh,” you said softly, and it explained everything and nothing all at once.

“I’m just saying,” Oscar added quickly, flustered, “it didn’t feel great.”

You couldn’t tell if the red of his cheeks was from the heat, the alcohol, or the embarrassment, but what you could tell was how hopelessly cute you found him in this moment. You tried to play it cool, despite the fact your heartbeat had skipped a full chord. “Noted. And for the record, now I know you aren’t boring,” you added, teasing, playfully nudging your shoulder with his. “You’re just… private. Or mysterious. A sardonic brick wall, if you will.”

It successfully had him looking up, a light-hearted scoff slipping past his lips - you could see the relief in his facial traits. “I’ll take mysterious. It’s better than boring.”

When you got into your hotel room, Oscar slipped past your door as he normally would, and you collapsed onto the bed with your legs tangled together like always─ but something was different now. The air around the mattress was slower, stuck in time, warm in the way his breath ghosted over the nape of your neck when he settled beside you, eyes already fluttering shut.

For the first time since this whole agreement began, you had to consciously remind yourself that it wasn’t real. The comfort in your chest wasn’t made to stay. The steady rhythm of his breathing next to yours, the way your body naturally molded into the other─ it was all pretend. 

At least, that’s what it was supposed to be.

Like silk curtains flowing with the breeze, the change was discreet but there nonetheless, in the shared silences that felt less like pauses and more like instances captured with a polaroid. There was hesitation, once again, but unlike the one you chased away before─ in how you touched, how you laughed, how you glanced at each other and closed the gap under the bright flashes. You were both tiptoeing around something fragile and new.

Neither of you said anything, but it was something too heavy not to notice─ at least, you hoped Oscar did as well: the reluctant awareness of how hazy the lines had started to get and the stunned realization that maybe they’d never really been that straight to begin with after Oscar’s tipsy confession in Spain. You were still doing everything to showcase your relationship to the media, Theodore’s presence in the paddock still overwhelmingly present and Oscar’s popularity sky-rocketing. You were still holding hands and tucking yourself to his side in the garage between two meetings, carefully weaving the continuation of the story you made up together. Yet, when no one was watching, it didn’t feel as plastic. Not when Oscar whispered in the crevice of your ear in a crowded room, or when your heart jumped at the sound of his laugh. When it started to hurt, just a little, when he pulled away.

The day he called you at five in the morning from Canada was confirmation enough. The switch from the heat of Spain to the rainy weather of the United Kingdom for work had taken its toll on you, and you had to call in sick for the Montreal race weekend. Tucked in your covers with a cup of coffee and an inability to sleep due to your clogged nose, you watched your phone screen lit up with his name. You answered with a hoarse, “Why are you awake?”

Oscar chuckled, his voice slightly muffled by the hotel air conditioning in the background. “Why are you?”

“Respiratory betrayal,” you said, dragging your blanket further up your chin. “What’s your excuse? The race’s tomorrow.”

You talked about everything and nothing for a little while. Oscar told you how the track felt a little underwhelming, how the social media team messed up with their main Instagram account, and of Lando’s endless complaining about the lack of your presence─ apparently, the paddock was too quiet now. You nodded in your pillow with a smile like he could see you.

Eventually, the conversation drifted away, like it always did now. Oscar asked what you were listening to lately and you told him of a song that sounded like spring and reminded you of long drives at night, especially the instance when he drove you home after Monaco. He said it sounded like something you’d play to get out of your own head. You said it was. He told you about this stupid childhood habit he had of organizing cereal boxes in alphabetical order and you laughed so hard it triggered a coughing fit.

Oscar’s voice dropped. “I wish you were here.”

It wasn’t dramatic or purposeful in the slightest. He said it as if he was realizing it at the same time he pronounced the words. It was your case too when you answered, “Yeah, me too.”

Your chest ached, because there was no camera to capture the softness of the moment and you just found out you preferred it that way.

And then you came back for the Austrian Grand Prix. You didn’t see Oscar much that weekend. You’d barely touched the ground before you were swallowed whole by emails, debriefs, documents you missed during your sick leave and Theodore side-eyeing you every time you so much as coughed next to him. There was no time for soft moments, not even time to stop and just glance at Oscar even if you wanted to.

He crossed the line in P1 that day. You were mid-conversation with Zak, animated with excitement even during your lengthy talk about the following media duties, when arms pulled you in so strongly you lost track of what you were saying. You recognized him by touch alone: Oscar was wrapped around you, body sweaty and warm from his maddened laps. He held the helmet in his hand, still catching his breath when his head dropped on your shoulder. 

“You’re back,” he said, voiced laced with something a lot like relief.

“Of course I’m back,” you whispered back, fingers twitching on the back of his race suit. He sounded like you were gone for years and somehow, it really did feel like it. You could’ve stayed there for hours, you thought, until Zak obnoxiously cleared his throat next to you.

Oscar pulled back, eyes brighter than his usual post-race exhaustion, the glint of something you couldn’t name just yet dancing in his pupils. His hands came to rest on your wrist, barely brushing your hands. “Stay with me?” He asked, and your heart might have stopped just there. Realizing how it sounded, Oscar quickly corrected, “For the interviews. I’ve been dodging the media since you weren’t there.”

“I will,” you smiled. Your feet were already moving anyway.

He kept glancing sideways everytime the journalists asked about strategy and pace, and the little tug in your guts told your mind you were enjoying it, even though shamefully missing the feeling of the circle his thumb drew on the inside of your hand. When the interviewer asked about the less than discreet glances, making a comment on the obvious chemistry you two shared and how well you worked together─as colleagues and as a couple─Oscar didn’t laugh it off like you always practiced. He nodded, bashful and sure.

The sentence kept blinking in the back of your head like a warning sign: this was all fake. But even telling yourself that wasn’t enough anymore because your heart apparently didn’t get the memo. The touches and the sleepovers made your dreams spiral and your cheeks warm. You became his phone wallpaper for authenticity and his picture became yours as well without as much as a second thought, every little attention as natural as the cycle of seasons.

You were falling for your own fake dating ruse. Which meant you were quietly, miserably falling for Oscar Piastri in the process, in the realest and most literal way known to man. That was terrifying.

Never, in your short but hectic PR career, had you ever experienced that.

Not the newfound feelings you were harboring for your fake boyfriend, no. You tried your best to think about that as little as possible─ if you didn’t look at them, maybe they wouldn’t look back. Right now, you were talking about the diplomatic ambush you and the F1 grid and staff just walked into. The hotel hosting the drivers and half the sport’s staff for the Silverstone weekend had decided to organize a charity gala. Last minute. Mandatory, if you had any desire to keep your reputation intact.

It was a smart move─ brilliant, even: Host a fancy event for a cause, pick a night when the entire motorsport world is under your roof, and leak just enough information to the press so no one can afford to skip it. Declining? Not donating? Refusing to schmooze with the hotel owners? You’d be crucified online by breakfast. Genius, really. You respected the play. 

But damn, give a girl some warning. You didn’t have anything to wear.

Apparently it was the case of everyone else as well, which made you feel less self-conscious. When you walked out your hotel room the morning of FP3 and qualifying, the hallway wasn’t buzzing with race talk but with chaotic murmurs about last-minute outfits, shoes emergency and the drama of Max Verstappen only packing team merch─ which, much to his dismay, was absolutely excluded from the dress code.

You were promptly swept away by a group of female staff members from different teams, mostly working in comms or PR, determined to save you from showing up in jeans and a prayer after a heated conversation around the breakfast table. It turned into a surprisingly wholesome mission: shared complaints, budding friendships, and a chorus of tender laughter when you found the dress. “Your boyfriend’s going to be a happy man!” one of the older women teased, earning cackles from the others and a fiery blush from you.

You were, admittedly, very lucky─ as much as someone in a fake relationship could be.

Especially when Oscar knocked on your hotel door later that evening, fresh from his post-quali shower, hair a little messy, still buttoning up the blazer of his suit and eyes flickering with something unreadable when you opened the door, ready.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t expecting a reaction. When you were tearing down your skin with your scented body scrub and carefully smoking out your eyeliner in the mirror, you told yourself it was for you only─ but faced with Oscar’s eyes roaming over you, you knew you were clearly lying to yourself.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He silently took you in, and you feared that maybe you didn’t achieve the effect you hoped for. Maybe a hair was out of place, or the dress looked awkward on you. But Oscar’s lips parted in a discreet intake of breath and the way his mind blanked out was painfully visible on his features. Quietly, “You look…” He trailed off, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck as if he could try to scrub off the red climbing out of his collar. “You look really nice.”

Really nice. That wasn’t quite what you expected, but his reaction was telling enough for you and knowing Oscar, you knew you weren’t getting anything more unless he was under a copious amount of alcohol or sleep-deprivation. You rolled your eyes at him, biting back a satisfied smile. “You don’t look half bad either.”

And he did. Devastatingly so. His suit was tailored within an inch of its life, cinched right at the waist and the lapels hugging his chest, his frame striking in the color. It was all very James Bond of him, minus the reckless charm─ though tonight, he seemed to be toeing the line. Your gaze dropped to his tie, and your fingers twitched at your side when you realized the shade was an exact match to your dress. You hadn’t said anything about your outfit ahead of time so you didn’t believe it was on purpose, but when your eyes met his again, there was a flash of something knowing and boyish─ almost proud that you noticed.

“Come on,” Oscar finally broke the silence. “You’re setting the bar too high. Everyone’s going to think I’m the lucky one tonight.”

“That’s because you are.”

The hallway was quiet as you two walked down together. You could feel it again─ that invisible thread pulling tighter, a weightless tension lodging in your chest and the incessant smile pulling at your lips. This was fake. Totally fake, you repeated to yourself again as you stepped with Oscar in the elevator, arm slithering around his bicep, ready to make your entrance.

The hotel hall was drenched in gaudy decorations, shimmering chandeliers and overly sparkly dresses, the kind of excessive elegance that only made sense in photoshoots and unnecessarily overpriced galas. Everywhere you looked, sequins caught the light and laughter echoed over the clink of crystal glasses. You weren’t in your element at all, Oscar wasn’t either and clearly, none of the drivers or the team principals who showed up wanted to be there. But in the name of keeping up appearances, you spent the evening with Oscar and a glass of champagne, stepping on his foot from time to time for old time’s sake. You knew how to mingle, after all it was everything you studied for four years.

You drifted through conversations in tandem. His hand stayed on the small of your back, occasionally brushing lower in ways that felt more unconscious than performative, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. When you’d lean into him to talk, he always dipped his head to hear you better on instinct. When Lando started tagging along, he was quick to complain about third-wheeling.

The whole evening was spent like that: finding amusement where you could in the middle of obligations, which was often spent sending sharp comments Oscar’s way, which amused him greatly, or Lando’s with Oscar’s help, which definitely amused him less. But gossiping could only get you so far, and soon enough the height of the heels you chose and the weighty ambience was enough to uncomfortably tighten your ribcage. You were quick to excuse yourself to the empty entry of the hotel, where you collapsed on a chair with a sigh.

You took a slow sip of your almost empty glass, letting the fizz of the bubbles distract you from the uncomfortable twist in your chest. Oscar would have followed you if you didn’t ask for some alone time, and God knows you needed some away from him. You were trying to find a distraction, anything to make you stop thinking about the brush of his fingertips or how you could have sworn his gaze lingered a second too long on your lips when you laughed at one of his jokes.

You didn’t expect, and especially didn’t want, Theodore to be that distraction.

His voice cut through the fog. “Tired?”

The glass nearly slipped from your fingers. Your body tensed, and you jumped to your feet out of reflex, ready to leave at any given moment. “Oh wow, didn’t mean to scare you like that,” he raised his hand in mock surrender. You rolled your eyes.

Theodore had the same haircut, same smug face, same cologne that lingered like melted plastic. The longer you looked at him, the longer of an eyesore he became─ nothing about him stood out: not his suit, the false casual way he was holding his blazer in his hands, and certainly not his demeanor. You couldn’t help but draw a silent comparison to Oscar.

That’s when you realized: you hadn’t seen much of Theodore the past week around the paddock. You hadn’t paid a lot of attention to his presence in general, too caught up in Oscar and the torment of your own conflicting feelings to even grace him with acknowledgement. You voiced the first part of your thought, casually sipping your drink.

His expression tightened as he forced a smile. “Ah. Yeah, well, they… they let me go. Budget cuts, you see.”

It took all your will and decency not to explode in laughter. Budget cuts. Ah, yes. Incompetence must have had a change of definition in the Oxford Dictionary recently. “So… why are you here?”

“My dad knows the hotel owner. I got an invite last minute.”

“Oh,” you said with a mocking tilt of the head. “So nepotism and unemployment. Got it.” The fake niceness you sported on during your first interaction at the start of the season had vanished out of thin air─ you weren’t going to put up with this pathetic excuse of a man any longer than you had to, precisely now that you had no reason to anymore.

Theodore laughed. Your hand prickled with the need to punch him in the nose. “You know, it’s not even that important that I lost my job at McLaren.” Said no one ever, you thought. How far did his privileges go? “I─ well, I only took it up because I learned you were working there. I thought… maybe if I was around again, we could fix things.”

You must have hit your head, this had to be a fever dream. The words reaching your ears made no sense to you whatsoever. 

“Fix─?” You scoffed, eyes widening. “That job was supposed to be your redemption arc? Is that it? Oh my god, Theo. You slept with my best friend and you thought I’d fall back in your arms because you barged into my career?”

“I made a mistake─”

“You made a choice,” you spat.

“I didn’t think it would matter this much to you!”

“Did I not cry enough the first time or do you want me to reenact it? Were you really hoping I’ll welcome you with open arms, open legs and a memory loss?”

“Well─”

“Don’t answer that. Actually, stop talking.”

Theodore threw his arms in the air, taking a step forward as he hurled his jacket on the chair you sat on a few minutes ago. “I just thought maybe seeing me again would remind you of what we’ve had!”

Rage and indignation alike rose in your throat like vomit, and your hands shook imperceptibly as you answered. “It did. It reminded me that what we had was never good enough to keep me from building something better. So thanks for the little nostalgia trip, but I’ll pass.”

Something in Theodore’s gaze darkened, dangerous and petulant, and before you could step back, he leaned in. “Oh, I get it now,” he snarled at you, voice dropping into something bitter. “It’s because of Piastri, isn’t it?”

“Back off, Theodore.” Your back had straightened instinctively. Discomfort crept under your skin like cold water─ you didn’t like the way he hissed his name and how close he was getting.

He didn’t back away. Instead, he took another step. “Didn’t realize you’d fall for the first man who gave you attention after me. Guess I underestimated how lonely you─”

“Everything alright there?”

His voice, warm and familiar, sliced through the tension and your shoulders slumped in relief. Oscar.

He was standing just behind Theodore, who turned around comically slow. Oscar’s expression was unreadable. You never saw him angry, but you did know how to recognize the calm before a storm.

“Yeah,” Theodore answered, too fast. “Just… catching up.”

Oscar’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I think you’ve done enough catching up for tonight.”

He walked toward you, and you subtly stepped to his side, his heat grounding in the absurdity of the situation. He didn’t look at you─ his eyes were locked on Theodore’s, cold and measured. “If you’ve said your piece,” he started, “I think you should head back to whatever table your father pulled strings to get you to.”

Theodore scoffed, his features twisting into something ugly, but he didn’t push his luck. He wouldn’t be winning this fight. After a beat of tense silence, he turned and stormed off the entry hall, muttering something beneath his breath you didn’t bother catching.

The moment he was out of sight, you could feel the rigidity in your body melt away. You hadn’t even realized how tightly you’d been wound until now, standing frozen in place. You reached out instinctively, gripping Oscar’s sleeve in order to keep you on your feet. “Shit,” you whispered. “I didn’t expect him.”

Oscar’s hand closed gently over yours and how thumb drew slow circles across your knuckles. You could feel his eyes on you attentively. “You okay?”

You sniffled, breathing fast as a breathy, nervous laugh slipped past your lips. “God.” You wiped your cheek, pausing when you saw the glint of moisture on your fingers, “I didn’t even realize I was crying.”

Oscar didn’t say anything right away─ he reached up with his other hand and brushed your tear track, cradling your cheek with the gentlest touch, like you’d break if he pressed too hard. “He’s a real dick,” he murmured, brows drawing together. “Trust me, he’s never coming near you again.”

That made you laugh─ quiet, and undeniably tired, but real. You looked up at him, something vulnerable sitting openly between you now. “Thanks for stepping in,” you breathed out. “You know, you’re awfully good at being a fake boyfriend. You nailed the attitude down.” You tried to make light of the situation, but the words stung when you got them out. You regretted uttering them as soon as you felt the frail openness in the air retract. Something in Oscar’s eyes dimmed a little, but they didn’t move from yours. 

“Always, that’s my job,” his tone dripped with a strange kind of acerbity. “Now, let’s get you to your room. I think we’re done for the night.”

You couldn’t agree more.

The way to your room was spent in silence, apart from the click of your heels on the carpet and the faint sound of breathing. The quiet was now oppressing, seeping with an anxiety that took you back to when he shook your hand in a similar hotel room a few months ago. When you released his arm as you reached your door, you half-expected him to mutter a polite goodnight and disappear at the end of the hallway.

Instead, Oscar leaned against the doorframe, hands shoved in his pockets. “Can I ask you something?”

You gave a small nod.

“What made you say yes to him?” He asked. Faced with your confused expression, he clarified, gaze flicking down. “Theodore. Why did you date him?”

There wasn’t a trace of judgment in his voice, just a searching sort of curiosity. The answer sat heavy on your tongue, unfamiliar and painful, but still, the question pulled something sharp through your chest─ you didn’t know why you were suddenly so self-conscious about it. 

“I’d like to say I don’t know but…,” you leaned back against the wall next to him, folding your arms to hold yourself together and eyes fixed on a point somewhere past his figure. “I think… I was tired. I used to put everything into school, so much that I skipped out on everything else. I didn’t even know who I was beside the pressure and achievements, and Theodore… just happened to be there during that confusing time of my life. My roommate’s, and ex-best friend’s, friend. I thought he was charming, in his own sort of way. He was persistent, used to leave flowers by my dorm room every morning.” You chuckled sadly. “They weren’t even my favorite - turns out they were hers.”

You heard Oscar exhale. “It still made me feel noticed, like I mattered to something outside of studies. Like someone actually saw me, you know? So I fell in love. And turns out he didn’t see me at all─ he sure as hell doesn’t now either, if he thought showering Zak with dollar bills and side-eyeing me across the paddock would be enough to win me back. That’s without mentioning the cheating.”

The silence of the hallway was deafening, your words echoing against the walls. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just dense. Until Oscar broke it.

“I don’t get it,” he murmured, “how anyone could cheat on you. It doesn’t make sense.”

It made you look at him. You’ve gotten used to turning around and finding his eyes already on you; it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, but your chest still tightened when you met the darkness of his irises. You waited for him to reply, lacking any explanation yourself of why it couldn’t meet the simple principles of logic in his head, why he couldn’t find the flaws in you that lead Theodore to another woman.

Oscar’s answer came under a different form. “For what it’s worth,” he said, gaze steady. “I like to think I see you.”

You blinked. “Do you?”

The question slipped out before you could stop it, and the moment it did, the answer came rushing in. He did. You knew it in the way his head tilted slightly to the side, like he was still trying to see more of you, even now.

Oscar knew your coffee order by heart, the temperature and how much milk to ask for when you were too tired to speak it aloud. He knew which bakery carried your favorite pastry and what time he had to sneak away from media duties to grab it for you─ especially when the paddock version tasted like cardboard. He noticed when your hands got cold before you did, kept spare hand warmers in his bag in colder countries because “you’re always freezing.” He sent you stupid memes during long flights because he knew take offs made it hard for you to sit still. He carried spare glitter gel pens in his bag, and never teased you about it─ just handed you another one when you absentmindedly noticed yours was running out.

He remembered that you always got motion sick if you sat in the backseat of a car for too long. That you needed silence when thinking. That you hummed when you were concentrating and tapped your pen when you weren’t.

And suddenly, you weren’t just asking if he saw you the way you’d always wanted to. You were asking if he’d always been seeing you, even when you weren’t looking.

“I do,” he answered, barely above a whisper.

You nodded. There couldn’t be anything more true than that.

Just like that, the air tilted. Toward him, engulfing you both in a fragile, sacred space. Everything narrowed down to Oscar and the small buzz between your two bodies─ dense and electric, full of every feeling that had been lurking beneath the surface. His eyes flickered to your lips for the briefest of seconds. Back to your eyes. 

He moved subtly, like he wasn’t sure you’d let him, the idea of losing the moment scarier than not having it at all. Your body was still, breath hitching and heart racing, as his hand reached up to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing softly over your cheekbone, memorizing the shape.

And when he finally leaned in, he hesitated just inches from your lips, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath and the tremble in yours. “Is this okay?” He whispered.

You closed the space.

The kiss was gentle at first─ careful and tentative. The gentle, kind sweep of two people trying to find their footing, but the electric shock of the feeling brought everything back to you: the months of tension, the stolen glances, the fumbled excuses to stay close. Your mouths crashed over each other, deepening in the split of a second, slow and aching in the pants you let out and the touch of roaming, curious hands. You breathed into his mouth, seeking his air to make it yours.

Oscar’s other hand slid to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer and your back flush against the wall as your fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket. You could feel his heart hammering under your palm, fast and desperate, mirroring yours. His tongue demandingly slipped past your lips, and he kissed you like he had wanted to for a long time, and there was no denying he had. Raw and needy, you felt stripped bare by the small whine he let out when you bit down on his bottom lip.

You thought, the world could fall apart tomorrow and this would have been everything you needed to go peacefully.

When you finally pulled apart, both breathless, he didn’t move far. You wouldn’t have let him anyways, the heat of his body too comfortable, the weight of his mouth branded on your own. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed and lips swollen.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do that,” he whispered, voice hoarse and rough with honesty.

You fingers tightened in his jacket, and you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. “Trust me, I think I do.” He laughed against your lips and you kissed him again. Because after all of it─all the pretending, the teasing, the overthinking─you didn’t have to lie to yourself anymore, to convince yourself. You couldn’t make up the way he was kissing you back.

Yet, you still went to bed alone.

You hadn't planned on it─ well, not exactly. After the emotional whirlwind of the evening, the kiss, the honesty, the confession, you’d invited Oscar into your room without really thinking. It had been an instinct, comfort-driven by the nights already spent together, even if everything was entirely different─ including your intentions and his. But Lando had to barge in, clumsily looking for his room next to yours, doing a double-take at the sight of you tucked into Oscar’s side, your makeup smudged from tears and kisses like a hormonal teenager, Oscar looking all too rumpled and embarrassed next to you.

“Jesus,” Lando muttered. “I’m just─ you know what, we’ll unpack that later. Good night. Please don’t make too much noise.”

Oscar laughed, arms wrapping tighter around your waist when your friend disappeared, whispering, “I’ll come back tomorrow. After I take you out on a date. A real one, this time.”

You’d smiled. “You better.” He kissed you again, quick and soft and annoyingly perfect, more than your dreams made it out to be, and you went to bed glowing, with his name lighting your phone screen with sweet nothings and promises of conversations tomorrow.

But tomorrow never came, because the knocks that woke you up were giving you a sickening déjà-vu. They were urgent, a trumpet announcing the complete turning of your world just like they had done a few months back, in February, and loud enough to slice through the sleepiness in your bones along with the drowsy haze of your mind.

You got up with difficulty and barely had the time to wrap a blanket around yourself before answering the door. You half-expected to find the Grim Reaper himself waiting on the other side with how early it was for anyone else to be knocking. Instead, you were faced with Oscar. Your heart gave a small, automatic jolt when you saw him. After how last night ended, he should have been the best thing possible to wake up to.

The expression on his face stopped you cold.

Oscar, who rarely wore his emotions so plainly, looked visibly shaken. The sharp lines of his face were pulled tight with worry, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. And that─more than the hour, more than the knocks─was what stopped you from throwing yourself into his arms.

You opened the door wider to let him in, which he did with hurried steps. “What’s happening?”

“Can you close the door first?” You did without much of a question.

Oscar sat on the edge of your bed, phone cradled in hand. He looked up at you, and distressed wasn’t enough to describe it─ he looked wrecked. “Have you checked your phone this morning?” He asked.

Dread pooled in your stomach. “No, I─ I just woke up,” you answered. “Oscar, I─”

“Someone leaked it. Our agreement, the fake dating. It’s all out.”

The world tipped.

The air in your lungs vanished and, for a moment, all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. His words repeated like static, a taunting echo getting louder and louder the more you realized what it meant. “What?” You whispered, eyes locked on his. The truth could have looked different there, but didn’t.

You sat down next to him, every limb leaden, cinching the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “How─? Who even─? We were so careful and─”

“Nobody knows, they’re searching for it right now,” Oscar replied, but it came out strained. “Everyone's trying to trace it now, but it landed on DeuxMoi and basically everywhere after that. They’ve got… receipts. Pictures, testimonies, photos- and a very incriminating audio recording.”

His throat bobbed with a swallow. “Of you. Saying something like… how good of a fake boyfriend I am. From last night, before we went up.”

Your stomach flipped. “But─ we were alone.”

Different scenarios flashed in your mind, engulfing you both in a spiral of questions and worry. Someone could have been filming you, and the lights were too low to spot the silhouette. Maybe Theodore’s jacket, draped over the chair you’d sat on, had a recording device on it in an attempt to prove himself something, or to get revenge on you. But how would he have guessed? There were so many possibilities, and Oscar’s silence didn’t help you feel any better about any of them─ not knowing burned hotter than the betrayal itself.

He took your hand in his, your intertwined fingers resting between the two of you. The contact made you flinch.

Your breath came out in a shaky exhale. “I mean… it was going to end anyways, right?” Oscar’s frown deepened, so you pushed forward. “The whole relationship. Theodore left. That was the plan, wasn’t it? It wasn’t supposed to last past him. It’s a very shitty way to end, sure, but… you can work with it.” You were tearing up by the time the last word left your lips.

Oscar winced. His grip on your hand tightened. “Don’t say it like that.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” You let out a wet, pathetic laugh. “It’s over.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, and it sounded a lot like a plea. “We can figure something out─ Zak, the rest of the PR team-someone will know what to do, there-”

You scoffed─ not at him, never, but at the cruel absurdity of it all. Your incapability of keeping something good for yourself. “You don’t get it, Oscar.” Your voice wavered. “Apparently, we’re everywhere. There’s an audio recording. People feel like they’ve been made fools of. They won’t forgive that so easily─ they’ll turn on you. They won’t believe in something that’s already been exposed as fake, even if─”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Because that was the worst part, wasn't it? You weren’t faking it anymore. Neither of you were, and hadn’t been for a really long time. You could have stumbled around, trying to figure out what it meant, searching his mouth and holding on to the feeling long enough to put a name on it, but the headlines didn’t give you that chance. They took it from you, carved it out of your hands before you even got to claim it as yours.

A beat.

“It was real for me,” Oscar said. “It is.”

You looked at him, the details of his eyes that made promises you were sure he could have kept under different circumstances. You tried to smile, but your face cracked under the weight of it, tear tracks shining under the early morning light. “They don’t know that,” you whispered. “They won’t care.”

Oscar’s gaze fell on the floor, and you shook your head gently. “You still have a career to protect. Just say it was my idea, you were helping me out and I got you into all of this─ which is the truth, technically. You just got too caught up. They’ll forgive you eventually, they’re here for the racing.”

“And what about you?”

The silence spoke for itself, heavy with the undeflectable nature of the situation. Carefully, as to not startle him, you took back the hand he was holding and folded both of them on your lap. There would be no other outcome to this story. “I’ll figure it out. It’s my job.”

He didn’t believe you, you could see it in the lopsided curve of his mouth, the prominent vein near his temple you traced with your eyes before falling asleep. You realized you never had the opportunity to pass a night in his arms.

“You go get ready for your race, Oscar. Don’t worry about me.” Your chest ached as your mouth shaped the words, barely hearing them yourself. The only thing that mattered was the low lights in the Australians’ eyes, how his mouth opened and closed around something. He never said whatever was pending at the edge of his tongue, but he closed his eyes when you put your lips on the skin of his cheek.

Oscar just left quietly, in the imperceptible click of a hotel door. You couldn’t watch him go─ if you did, you might not have had the strength to let him.

You were let go by McLaren before the race even began.

The decision had been clear from the get-go. Still, it didn’t make sitting in that sterile room any easier knowing the lanyard around your neck would be up to grab for someone else in seconds. It wasn’t cruel or personal─ it was just business.

You spent over three hours with members of staff, going over the facts and projected damage. You nodded along and asked questions you could predict the answers to, but the conclusion was written into the walls: the scandal was too loud, and you weren’t quiet enough to survive it─ at least, not with a badge that read McLaren on your chest.

You gave it back, sliding it over the table to the chief of staff. They booked you a flight home as discreetly as they could manage and it wasn’t until you stepped in your apartment, suitcase dropped by the door and keys shaking in your hand, that the overwhelming silence caught up with you.

And with it, everything else.

Your face was headlining the front pages of multiple websites and you’d just lost the best job you’ll ever have─ if not the only one, because a simple search would now lead every possible employer to the failed scheme you tried to put up.

You collapsed onto your bed, entirely dressed and only one shoe off, still wrapped in the airport chill. They made you hand-over your team-issued phone, along with the contacts of everyone that mattered back at Silverstone. You didn’t even have a chance to explain yourself or to say goodbye.

Oscar would finish the race and find out you vanished, and you had no way of telling him 

You let the weight of it all crash down on you.

If you had to estimate, you’d say you let yourself rot in your own misery for about a week, give or take. You weren't counting the days, but you knew you hadn’t opened your curtains since you got home. Your eyes were red, rubbed raw every time another wave of emotion struck you, and you hadn’t so much as looked in a mirror. Instead, you moved through your apartment like a ghost, sidestepping your own reflection as if it might reach out and confirm what you already knew─ you’d lost something you didn’t realize mattered this much until it was gone.

The past year had been everything. You successfully worked your way into a world that worked too fast for second chances where you found a rhythm, built friendships and connections. As tiresome as the lifestyle could sometimes be, you fell in love with what you were doing and what you came to be. In the past months, your life had mirrored the tracks─ swift and brutal, with enough turns to break a few wheels. Now, you were left with nothing but the emptiness in your stomach and for someone who always strived for more, the bitter aftertaste in your mouth was enough to keep you from wanting.

Your wake-up call came in the form of your rent.

Turns out heartbreak didn’t pause rent or the cost of groceries rising due to inflation. McLaren paid well, but not well enough so that you could afford to disappear off the grid and wallow in self pity with your last check. So you did what you always did, reminiscent of your past college superhuman efforts: you opened your laptop and got to work.

You applied to everything you set your eyes on─ LinkedIn, obscure websites, Facebook Ads, no one was safe. You didn’t dare touch anything remotely F1 related, or even F2, F3 or F4, the wound was still fresh and your name was probably too much of a touchy subject for you to be accepted anywhere near. You stuck to motorsports-adjacent companies, agencies, development programs, even local circuits. Just… something, anything that would let you keep your toes in the world you loved.

Eventually, it came.

A small karting company in the Netherlands, of all places. Barely enough to fill a spreadsheet on a good day, but they had promising talents and were expanding, so in need of someone to help build their communications structure from the ground up. Preferably someone who knew how to handle press and build narratives, connect people to stories. They were desperate, which means they probably didn’t even look you up when they interviewed you. You took the opportunity with your first real smile in a minute.

It wasn’t as glamorous. The office had flickering lights, and you hadn’t come with the most adapted wardrobe. But it was something─ so you got to work.

You were surprised by how much you ended up loving it.

The people were awkward but nice, you went out with a few of your colleagues by the end of your first week, and the kids racing under your name were awfully sweet and their parents just as kind. The work wasn’t overbearing, but you put every ounce of your attention in building its perfect image with your team. Your new apartment was small and comfortable, and the city you settled in a neverending discovery of wonders. You felt fine─ which was a step away from the state you had been in not so long ago.

But even though you tried to build yourself another life, you still couldn’t shake the memory of Oscar. He was still there─ not in person, but in every memory you were not capable of erasing just yet. You caught yourself ordering his coffee order alongside yours as a force of habit, and accidentally took the notebooks with the overly precise details of your fallacious history with you to work. There was so much of him in you now, you had trouble picking apart the pieces. You scanned articles for his face but skipped race reports in case his name hurt more to see.

You tried to bury the ache in your schedule and the excitement of the company’s mediatic expansion, you wrote press releases, attended networking events with a tight smile and let small wins feel bigger than they were. Yet you knew your heart was sitting in his hands, thousands miles away- and you refused to wonder if, without knowing, you were still holding his. It was a hope you couldn’t entertain, all in the name of letting go. It was an act of healing of some sorts. Putting Oscar behind you was growth, not grief, and letting go of something that had no chance of being anymore was the most adult thing you’d ever do.

Except you have a history of your past catching up with you─ deep down, you should’ve known this time wouldn’t be any different.

It happened when you bumped into someone on your way out the café, hands full with the Communications team’s comically large coffee order. It was the end of August, and your mind was anywhere but on the street─ mostly focused on not spilling anything. Of course, that’s what made the crash even more cinematic.

Cold drinks flew in the air, splattering across the pavement and down your pants in dramatic, sticky rivulets. You were halfway into a curse when someone said your name in an all-too-familiar voice.

“Y/N?” You looked up from your drenched legs, and there he was.

Lando Norris in the flesh, unruly mullet and all. “Oh my god,” you muttered, halfway between disbelief and horror. “Hi?”

He stared at you like he was trying to convince himself he wasn’t hallucinating. You’d feel offended if you couldn’t understand where he was coming from- you did disappear suddenly, those two months ago. “You’re─ holy shit, what are you doing here?”

You awkwardly wiped your hands on the napkin that came with the order, glancing at the wasted money on the ground. “Clearly failing my duties. I work for a karting company just outside the city. Communications consultant.”

“No way, seriously? In the Netherlands?” Lando asked, eyebrows shooting up. “That’s… kind of awesome.”

You gave him an awkward smile. “Yeah. It’s not McLaren, sure, but I like it there.”

The mention of the team brought an icy breeze to the conversation and had Lando shuffling on his feet before you changed the subject. “And what are you doing here?” You asked, too enthusiastic for it to be spontaneous.

“Zandvoort race this weekend,” he answered with a slight grin.

“Oh, true.” With the drastic changes in your life and the newfound popularity the company had gained, you’d forgotten all about the fast-paced calendar you had become so accustomed with. The fact there was even a race taking place in the Netherlands, despite Max Verstappen being Dutch, had completely slipped your mind.

It should feel like a win, but your heart twisted to punish you.

Faced with another silence, Lando spoke up again. “You know, it’s not the same without you there, Oscar’s new PR manager is an old man.” That made you chuckle, although bittersweet. “We miss you. A lot.”

You didn’t miss the implication in his words. The air suddenly felt a bit thinner in your lungs than it did a few minutes ago. “He shouldn’t,” was all you could manage to reply in the tightening of your throat.

“Why not?”

You shrugged, forcing your voice to stay level. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It ended. He has to focus on his career.”

Lando opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it, only giving you an hesitant smile in return. “Well… I’ll tell him I saw you. If you want.”

“No,” You shook your head with a soft laugh. “No. Just… good luck, alright? For the Grand Prix.”

It got Lando to smile wider, at least, something warm in the spreading of his lips. “Thanks. And Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad I bumped into you. Let me make up for the spilled coffee.”

He did. Brought the entire order again and handed it over with a sheepish shrug, reminiscent of the friend you had two months ago, before disappearing down the cobblestone street. You stood there a bit too long, dazed by the improbability of it all. The universe decided to shake you a little, but somehow it had to be just when you made peace with the fact it had moved on without you.

You went back to the karting center where reality demanded your full attention. The rest of the day passed in a blur of last-minute adjustments─ tomorrow, you were hosting a little event in order to showcase the rising talents driving in your colors, which needed your immediate attention, no matter how divided by the episode this morning. You didn’t even notice everyone else leaving until the sun dipped below the horizon, painting gold across the windows and casting long shadows on the now-empty space.

You exhaled slowly, closing your computer and feeling the soreness in your back from being hunched over too long. The cons of being a workaholic, you guessed, but you’d done your part. You gathered your things, slid your jackets over your shoulders, and stepped out into the cooling evening.

You could have missed him if you hadn’t hesitated a second too long in the doorway, but you could also recognize Oscar anywhere, eyes closed or blindfolded.

He was leaning against a car, parked a few meters away from the entrance, hoodie loose around his shoulders and hair tousled by the breeze. His gaze was distant, unfocused as he was watching the distance. The second the door thudded shut behind you, the sound cutting through the quiet evening, his eyes snapped up, finding yours.

He looked lost, beautifully so. It froze you in your tracks. It didn’t seem to have the same effect on Oscar, as he pushed off the car and took careful steps forward.

“Hi,” was all he said, soft and steady.

You hadn't realized how much you missed the silken casualness of his voice before it reached your ears. It hit you harder than you’d expected. “How─?”

“Lando,” Oscar cut in gently. “He said you worked at a karting company near the city. I… looked it up. Thought maybe, with a little chance, you’d still be here.” He scratched the back of his neck and he looked away for a second, just one, before his eyes snapped back to yours.

Neither of you moved, unsure how to cross the canyon that had cracked open between you.

“I wasn’t expecting…” You trailed off.

“Yeah,” Oscar breathed out a humorless laugh, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Me neither. It was, uh, pretty impulsive. But I couldn’t just…” He trailed off too, shaking his head.

You nodded, even though you didn’t understand. This whole conversation made no sense. “How’s it going? Life, I mean. At McLaren?” you asked, desperate to ignore your heart clawing at your ribs.

Oscar’s lips thinned. “Fine. Busy.”

“That’s good.”

He took a step closer, so very little you could have missed, and so slow it gave you the opportunity to step back. You didn’t take it. “And you? How’s─ all this?”

“It’s… something. I like it. I do.” You laughed, and it came out wrong.

“I’m glad.”

Silence fell, weighty on your shoulders. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t guess how to act when Oscar looked so closed off, out of reach─ something he hadn’t been to you in a long while. You chose to let it stretch, unsure of what else.

Finally, it came down to Oscar. “You left.”

The words stung with the strength of a slap, and heartbreaking enough to put you back in front of your apartment door, two months back. You gripped the hem of your jacket, bringing it closer to your body in hope to substitute for the warmth his tone lacked. You inhaled sharply, fighting the sting behind your eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice. They made it very clear there was no place for me anymore, and it would be the better option for one of us to come out unscathed.” Your voice faltered despite your best efforts. “I didn’t want to leave that way, Oscar. Not without saying goodbye.”

You couldn’t help the comment that bordered on your lips. “But I figured you weren’t too concerned. You didn’t look too hard to reach me either.” Not an e-mail, no nothing. You were deprived of his contact information due to your work phone being taken away, but he wasn’t. 

Oscar’s hands curled into fists at his side. “I couldn’t. If I did, they assured me it could make everything worse if someone leaked it again, for the both of us.” A scoff escaped him. “Told me I had to wait until they found the person who took the audio recording in the first place before I could try anything.”

“And did they?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I don’t really care.”

Again, he took a step forward. Oscar was close, not overly, but close enough for you to see the wild and desperate edge etched in his delicate traits, regardless of how much he tried to hide it. “I wanted to reach out. Every day. I just─” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I thought that’s what you wanted. I kept thinking that maybe you hated me for how it ended, or─ maybe you regretted it.”

Your laugh broke out sharp and ugly, more hurt than anything else. “Hated you? Regretted it?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Oscar, how could you even think-?”

He didn’t interrupt you. You had to do it yourself, because Oscar just watched as if waiting for a confirmation between the lines. “You really think I’d regret you?”

He still didn’t move. “I mean…,” he finally rasped out, barely carrying over the wind, “it cost you your career in F1. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“I cost me my career, Oscar. Not you. The fake relationship was my idea. I told you from the beginning I’d take the fall if it came to it. You were just helping me.”

You watched his jaw contract with the need to argue back, but you wouldn’t let him. Oscar was wrong on all accounts in his reasoning, blinded by whatever had been clouding his mind during your disappearance, and you were making sure it stopped there.

“I couldn’t hate you even if I tried. Well, not now at least- you were pretty insufferable at first.” His shoulders shook in the semblance of a laugh. “And if there’s anything I regret, it’s not realizing that it stopped being fake a lot sooner.”

There it was, the hefty topic you had been dancing around─ the kiss, gentle in its unearthing, and the whispered promises of explanations in the morning. Something that had been stolen from you and was now coming back to the surface for a last gasp of air. You could either take it or let it drown.

Oscar’s eyes searched yours, and for a second you believed he’d apologize and leave.

But that’s not what he did.

“It was never fake for me,” he said. “When- When you walked in and introduced yourself as my PR manager, and you were all smiles and nerves and─” he huffed, breathless, shaking his head, “and I was gone. I didn’t know how to act around you or what to do with myself.”

He got so close, you had to tilt your head to look up at him. “I kept thinking it would pass,” he continued. “That it was just a stupid fixation. But you kept being you, and you got close to Lando, and you stuck around. It just kept getting worse. Or better, I guess, depending on how you looked at it.”

“Then there was your ex,” He said, breaking into a soft laugh. “You took my arm and called me your boyfriend and all I could think was, yeah. I’d like to hear that again.” His fingers grazed the inside of your wrists, a ponctuation in his confession. “I didn’t fake a single thing. Not once. It’s been real from the beginning.”

Almost delirious, you broke into a cackle that had your hand flying to your mouth─ a half-sob, half-choke ripped from your chest. “So you were a douchebag… because you liked me?”

Oscar’s mouth quipped, sheepish. “Yeah.”

“And you acted like an idiot because you didn’t know how to show it?”

“... Yeah.” Now he sounded embarrassed.

Another watery laugh bubbled out of you, and you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket. “Oh my god, you’re such a man,” you said, voice wobbling between amusement and heartbreak, and Oscar’s smile cracked wider at the sound of it. You sniffled, rolling your eyes to try and hide the hopeful pain in your chest as you asked, intertwining your hand with his. 

“So… what do we do now?”

The pad of his fingers trailed up your arm, sending shivers down your spine. He cupped your elbows gently, steadying you like you were at risk of breaking at any minute. “Well,” Oscar murmured, the ghost of a demand parting his mouth. “Now that we got everything out of the way, I’m here for a reason. Only if you’ll have me.”

You didn’t need any more convincing, the days spent in his company during the tired mornings  and warm nights gave you ample amounts of reasons not to deny him.

As if you had the strength to even think about it.

You surged up, and your mouth caught up with his in the same way a puzzle piece would fit into another. It felt like homecoming, how the weight of his lips balanced against yours. Oscar hands went up your sides, painfully slow, wrapped around your waist and pulled your body flushed against him. You curled your fingers in the air at the nape of his nec, tugging slightly, and he sighed into your mouth─ broken and hopelessly in love.

The world shrank to just this: the press of his chest to yours, the warmth of his skin and how intensely Oscar Piastri kissed you back.

When you broke off contact for air, Oscar chased after your mouth. You tried to contain a giggle, unsuccessfully. “I can’t believe it took a whole fake relationship, messy break up and all, for you to do and say all that,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes and before you could react, the hands resting on your hips pinched your sides. You yelped, stepping on his foot. Old habits die hard, apparently, no matter what may have transpired in between.

“Well, I think you wouldn’t have liked me as much without that fake relationship.”

“I wonder whose fault it is, Oscar.”

“I’m just saying, I─”

You kissed him again. And again, and again, until the sun was well gone and stars were the only witnesses.

That night, you made sure to take Oscar back to your apartment. There was no awkwardness in the small talk made in the car, no hesitation in your movements. It was a slow series of quiet laughs against skin, not rushed or frantic in the slightest, whispered confessions tangled between languid kisses. You were curled up against him, a blanket thrown haphazardly on your legs and you talked. The way you wanted and needed to.

He murmured you might need to lay low for a while into your hair, eyes already closing with tiredness, in order to let everything die down and you agreed, brushing his knuckles with the featherlight touch of your lips. You could always come out with the truth later on, and you were content with your life in the Netherlands─ even more so if Oscar could share it with you in some hidden place in his heart. Your palm rested over his heart, feeling his heartbeat slowing down by sleep and lulling you into Morpheus’ arms just the same.

He kissed you one more time. The taste of home and future lingered in your mouth. Oscar will be there in the morning, when the sunlight will shine through the window. And then you could discuss it, about you, more in detail around a cup of coffee, when he’ll drive you to work before disappearing in his orange car, feelings less raw and more authentic.

Real didn’t have an expiration date. You had all the time in the world to figure it out.

©LVRCLERC 2025 ━ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

[sundives]

Decode ✶ psh.

Learning from you that I can walk away, too.

Summary: You're the textbook definition of the perfect daughter. With everything laid out to you, the only thing you should do is follow the footsteps of your parents and become a doctor. If not, marry a soon-to-be doctor and be the perfect wife for him.

Easily, you can do both. Despite being a college student, you are already arranged to marry Park Sunghoon, the son of your parents' business partner. While you're doing everything to tie him to your perfect life, Sunghoon is very much determined to ran away from it, chasing after a dream of passion which you could never understand.

✰ Song inspiration: Decode by Sabrina Carpenter, Autumn by Niki, Already Over by Sabrina Carpenter

✰ Word Count: 23.9k (what the hell sure.)

✰ Tags: Arranged marriage, angst!!, a bit of unrequited love, hurt a little bit of comfort, lots of lots of miscommunication (these two can’t communicate ffs), angst with happy ending ig, short fluff, smut! College setting, reader is a perfectionist and soooo stubborn, Park Sunghoon is a mess, he’s also in a band. Mentions of drinking and alcohol, and mild violence. Toxic relationships, so much drama, Wonyoung and Ningning as your best friends, mentions of enhypen members, fancy dinners and shits, lots of cursing lmao. 

✰ CW: smut! Plot with little porn, loss of virginity (both of them are virgins lmao but they kinda know what to do though, don’t ask how), extremely soft vanilla sex!! P in v sex, short mutual masturbation, fingering, mentions of blood, use of condom (!!!), praise, big dick! Sunghoon, aftercare. I might have forgotten some but yeah, shitty smut hope you enjoy nonetheless.

✰ Asul’s note: okay med students don’t come to me, I know that you need to pass a board exam before attending med school, or not, i think that’s based on your undergraduate program sdkfkjddfk. (I base it on my country lmao) so inaccuracies about becoming a doctor might be present here, so now, I am apologizing for the inaccuracies. (anyways, this is a fanfic guys, let it slide.) This is also not proofread lmao.

Anyways, this is the second installment for Arcanum series yay! you guys loved Jay's fic that I decided to write for the other members. :D hope you enjoy this one. <3

Read Jay's fic here.

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @bussolares @semi-wife @starry-eyed-bimbo @sievenderz @jakeslvt

-

You have a routine. 

By six in the morning, regardless if you have class that day, you’ll be awake. You start your day by taking a 5km walk in the community plaza in your subdivision, wherein the sun has already risen but not enough for you to feel hot. 

You should also be home by seven in the morning, wherein you do your morning routine like taking a bath, cooking breakfast, and maybe spare thirty minutes to read the book on your reading list before driving off to Decelis University. If you don’t have any classes that day, you’ll spend the day advance reading  your subjects. 

Everything in your life has always been like that. Having a routine keeps you organized, calms your mind and keeps your body circling everyday — leaving no room for mistakes, because making mistakes for you isn’t an ideal thing to do.

You’re the only child of your family. You grew up with loving parents who showered you with love and everything that you want. Spoiled but not rotten, everything wasn’t given to you in a snap. They always taught you that everything they give to you, should be repaired. Hence, you grew up with expectations given to you, and you have every determination not to fail your parents. 

That’s why you’re studying medical biology, following the footsteps of your father who owns the biggest medical center in your city. Ever since your father exposed you to his work, your dream has been to become a doctor like him, and they were happy that you’re following their path. 

While they are anticipating for you to become a doctor, your parents didn’t hesitate to give you a second option — a doctor’s wife like your mother. Someone who tends to their husband, becoming a housewife or trophy wife who spends their husband’s money with no problem, your mother would always joke. 

Coincidentally, your parents didn’t even let you choose between the options because easily, you can have both. While your ring finger remains empty, you know you’re bound to be married to someone by the time you graduate college. 

“Sunghoon,” you called out, shaking the boy’s shoulder. You were given a short groan as Sunghoon turned sideways and covered his head with the blanket.

“Sunghoon, wake up! We have class at ten!” you shouted, pulling the blanket once again. It didn’t take a minute for Sunghoon to sit up with a loud groan escaping his lips. 

“y/n, it’s only eight in the morning, you can go to Decelis if you want to, but let me fucking rest for another hour,” he said mindlessly, eyes still close. 

“You’ll skip class again because you overslept,” you pointed out. “Are you still drunk?”

“I have a hangover, thanks for asking,” Sunghoon replied sarcastically. “Also, why do you care if I skip class for today? It’s just a minor subject for fuck’s sake, just go.” 

“Make sure you go to Decelis today,” you reminded before leaving his room. Sunghoon didn’t even bother replying to you, he only lay down in his bed once again and dozed off, which only made you heave a sigh. 

You’ve known Park Sunghoon ever since you two were kids. You remember the first time you two met, at his father’s birthday, wherein he played the piano for the audience. You watched as he effortlessly played a song you’re unfamiliar with. Eyes locked at him, it was the first time you felt that rush of in your heart, cheeks heating up as you admired him from where you were standing. 

Ever since that day, you wanted to marry Sunghoon. His parents own the largest pharmaceutical company in your district which means that he’s bound to inherit his parents’ business. You think that it was destiny. If you two were to get married, your parents’ businesses would merge and you envision yourself as a doctor along with Sunghoon. 

It was as if the perfect life had been given to you. While you never formally requested to your parents that you wanted to marry Sunghoon, they pretty much set you two up. You grew up with Sunghoon, played and studied with him, and went to the same school together. 

He was your best friend. Although the lingering crush inside you still gives you butterflies every time you’re with Sunghoon, your platonic love for him still outweighs. You two passed Decelis University together, but before you two entered college, the formal arrangement between the two of you was held in a private dinner — completely shattering your relationship with him. 

From there, everything changed, the wariness that you two will get married after graduation lingers, and the fact that you two were forced to live in a house together, alone, made it more awkward for the two of you. 

Both your parents insisted that it’s for you two to prepare for your marriage. At first, it was hard to adjust, having small talks and walking on eggshells during the first few months despite you two growing up together. But slowly, you two had become well-adjusted with each other.

Going to Decelis together, study dates, and senseless conversations after dinner happened because not only you two live together, you two are also classmates. You two became well-known in your department. With your family’s background and reputation, everyone knows that you two are engaged to each other, and by the end of your freshman year, you two were considered as the medical sciences department’s “power couple.” 

Although you two had adjusted well, the two of you knew that what you had were only platonic, two best friends who live together under the same roof, ignoring the future that awaits for both of you. 

But when sophomore year came, Sunghoon formed a band along with some friends and a junior of his, and they named it, “Arcanum,” and ever since that day, Sunghoon was no longer the Sunghoon that you knew. 

You always thought that his talent for piano will only be a talent of his, but you didn’t expect it to become a passion that he will come chasing after. Ever since Arcanum happened, the sound of his keyboard can be heard all over your house, and instead of medical books and notes from your subjects being on his table, it has become lyrical sheets and chords that only Sunghoon can read. 

While Sunghoon still excels in class and passes his subjects with ease, it’s not hard to ignore that his college program isn’t his priority anymore. You found yourself alone in your house every night, Sunghoon separating from you by the end of the class because he has a gig or band practice. Sometimes he goes home drunk, and you’re wondering why the hell he is letting himself get drunk despite his low alcohol tolerance. 

You know that it’ll get worse if he continues doing it. You tried to talk him out of it but Sunghoon got angry with you instead, lashing out that why can’t you just support his passion instead. It was the first time he ever got angry with you and yet, it fueled something in you, the way he looked at you that night, you’re convinced that he’s not the Sunghoon that you know — which persisted you more to make him go back to the way he was. 

You tried. Everyday, you tried to make sure he goes to his class, waking him up and checking up on him became part of your routine. But it all seems useless because the more you pick up Sunghoon’s mess, the more he becomes annoyed at you. It became something you two always fought about, slowly you two didn’t realise that you two had drifted apart. 

“Class dismissed,” the professor announced. You could only close your notebook as you shake your head with disappointment.

Sunghoon didn’t show up, he’s probably in his room, still asleep. You hated how he didn’t show up, and all of it is because of a hangover from yesterday’s gig. You always told him that he shouldn’t drink during school days but it’s Sunghoon, he never listens to you. 

As you  grabbed your things and placed them in your bag, your professor called you out suddenly, which made you head towards him. 

“Yes sir?” you asked. 

“It’s about Sunghoon,” he started, your eyes widened but you only nodded, it wasn’t a surprise to you that your professors go to you if there’s any concerns regarding your fiance.

“He might as well drop my subject because he’s already failing,” your professor explained.

“What?” you asked, almost stumbling on your own tongue.

“He’s been absent for the past few weeks, and you know that attendance is still a crucial part of my subject. If he keeps on missing my classes, he’ll receive a failing grade in my subject, no considerations,” he said with a stern voice. 

You kept quiet for a moment, but only nodded. “I will inform him about this one, thank you so much sir.”

“I know that Arcanum is slowly becoming popular, but he still has to prioritize his studies,” your professor comments. 

You only gave him a formal smile before excusing yourself. As soon as you reached the hallway, you felt yourself in relief, but there was a hurtful tug on your heart. You couldn’t help but to grab your phone, dialing Sunghoon’s number. 

But all your calls went to his voicemail, you only stared at your phone, frozen from where you were standing. Your heart is beating at an abnormal pace and you hate that feeling.

You’re nervous. You hated feeling nervous. You’re nervous about Sunghoon, if he fails this subject, he’ll be delayed to graduate. He can’t delay. No, you two were supposed to graduate this year and after a few months, you two will get married before attending medical school. That’s the plan. There shouldn’t be any other options other than that. 

Of course you have to tell him about it, but the question was, does Sunghoon care? That’s what scares you the most. Because there’s a large possibility that he doesn’t care about it, he’ll let himself fail a subject if it means proving you wrong.

You couldn’t concentrate for the remaining day. Thoughts keep running in your mind, and to make it worse, none of your subjects were attended by Sunghoon. You don’t know his whereabouts since he wasn’t replying to your texts and calls, and you know that you’re going home to an empty house again.

Sunghoon is probably in his gig again, or maybe practicing somewhere. That’s what you thought when you entered the house, and your guess is right, it was empty and dark. As you close the door, there’s a small pain in your heart staring at the huge yet hollow house, wondering if this would be the house that you’ll go home to in a few years.

But your pondering was interrupted when you felt your phone vibrating, as you grabbed it and opened, you were surprised that Sunghoon’s calling you. 

“I’ve been calling you since earlier!” you shouted the moment you answered the call. 

“My parents’ are here, I spent the day with them in case you’re wondering why I was absent for today,” Sunghoon said boredly, and despite his cold tone, you were relieved to hear his explanation.

“You should’ve told me that instead of having me wonder where the hell are you,” you replied.

“Get dressed, they’re taking us out for dinner, I know you’re home by now, so we’ll pick you around thirty minutes,” and with that, Sunghoon ends the call. He didn’t even acknowledge your answer. You could only look at your phone for a minute before deciding to go to your room and find a nice outfit for dinner. 

Sunghoon’s parents  are a lovely couple who treated you like their own daughter. As soon as they arrive at your place to pick you up, Mrs. Park immediately approaches you with a smile on her face, hugging you tightly which you only reciprocate. 

“Y/n dear! Look at you, so pretty as ever,” she said with a smile, brushing your hair which only made you smile wider. “Don’t get too stressed, okay? I know with graduation nearing, it can be stressful for you two. Just don’t worry about your marriage, focus on your studies first.”

You only let out a small chuckle, “of course auntie, thank you for the concern.”

“You’re looking out for Sunghoon,” she whispered, knowing that the subject was in the room. “It can be hard sometimes, right? I’m just happy that you’re the one that he’s going to marry. He doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

The smile on your face almost slipped, but you managed to give her a nod. The beaming smile on Mrs. Park’s lips make you wonder what she would feel if she learned about how disastrous her son is now — or how his fiance couldn’t even tame him down. 

“Of course, thank you for putting your trust in me.” instead, fake words slipped out of your mouth perfectly even though you were itching to snitch your fiance to his mother. 

Mrs. Park only pats your cheeks one last time before calling out Mr. Park and Sunghoon, indicating that the four of you should go now. 

Arriving at the restaurant, the four of you went straight to the VIP room where food was already served. Dinner immediately commenced with a few talks and chit-chats.

“Graduation is near,” Mr. Park said in the middle of the dinner, glancing at you and Sunghoon. “Any plans? University of choice for your med school?”

“Decelis’ medical school is one of the top,” you answered diligently. “I might stay there.”

“Ah, I do remember, both your parents attended Decelis Medical School, good choice for you y/n,” Mr. Park pointed out. 

“How about you Sunghoon dear?” Mrs. Park asked. 

You only glanced at Sunghoon who busied himself with the food. He gives his parents a bored stare before picking up the meat on his plate, “Probably Decelis too.”

“Ah I see, you don’t want to get separated from y/n, such a sweetheart,” Mrs. Park teasingly said. 

Sunghoon softly scoffs, making you glance at him. His action were left unnoticed by his parents. When Sunghoon glanced at you, he raised an eyebrow, and you wanted to say something but you held yourself back. Knowing that you two are just putting up a show to his parents.

The remaining hours were filled with nothing but silence, which you are used to. Talks about college were all the conversation revolved around, and somehow, Sunghoon managed to answer his parents’ questions like he was a diligent student who’s top of his class. 

“Take care of the two of you okay? We’ll see you during your break,” after a few goodbyes and hugs, Sunghoon’s parents have left the two of you back in your house. The two of you watched their car leave and with that, Sunghoon turns around and enters the house. 

You followed him, heels clanking against the marble floor. You watched as he unbuttons his sleeved shirt’s button, walking towards his room when you called him out. 

“You should be glad that I didn’t tell them that you’re on the edge of failing a subject,” you blurted out. 

Sunghoon merely laughs in disbelief, “oh, now I should be glad that you saved my ass earlier? Thank you then.”

You chose to ignore his sarcastic remark, “Sunghoon, you can’t give up now, we’re graduating, do you really want to get yourself delayed?” 

Sunghoon only stared at you, “what if I do? Is there something you can do about it?”

You only blink for a second. “Fine, go on and get delayed, fail a subject if you want to. But do I have to remind you that Arcanum’s a university band? And by Decelis’ rules, they allow bands to perform as long as they don’t have a failing grade? So if you want to be so hard-headed about not attending class, say goodbye to your band then.” 

“You’re so annoying aren’t you? Using Arcanum just so I can continue studying medicine,” Sunghoon exhales. 

A haunting smirk plastered on your face, “oh no sweetheart, I’m just reminding you that you can’t chase after Arcanum, especially when it’s still tied in Decelis and your studies. So maybe rethink your life choices now before your parents find out about the mess that you’ve been doing.” 

Sunghoon mockingly laughs, “you’re such a stuck-up to my parents.”

“Then make a fucking choice Hoon,” you challenged. “Them finding out through me or Decelis? Either way, it’s not going to end well, so fix yourself and get some sleep tonight. We have class tomorrow at eight. Goodnight to you.”

You end the conversation by passing by him. Going straight to your room where you immediately locked yourself. You lean against the door, Eyes shutting tightly as you try to steady your breathing. You can feel all the energy leaving your body, wanting nothing more to sleep.

You always say to yourself that you won’t give up on Sunghoon, but days like these feel like every effort you give to him is useless. 

-

The following day, you and Sunghoon arrived at Decelis University together, creating a buzz in the campus. It was a rare occurrence for you to attend together.

Everyone knows. It's obvious that your relationship has been becoming astray, and yet, your “power couple” status remains the same. No one attempted to pursue you nor girls couldn’t flirt with Sunghoon not only because you two are tied together, but because you two are deemed untouchable because of your background. 

You two entered the classroom, Sunghoon going to the corner seat near the window while you opted for the second row near the aisle. A few mutters can be heard, but you chose to ignore it, getting used to people talking about you and Sunghoon’s ‘stray relationship.’

The day goes on, classes and laboratories continue on and on, and you’ve done the class with ease. You didn’t talk to Sunghoon but you observed that he managed to catch up with your lectures despite his absences. Natural Sunghoon, he can be gone for half of the semester, and still manage to top his grades. 

“Go home already,” Sunghoon said to you by the end of the class. “I have a gig tonight.”

You only gave him a bitter smile, “of course you have.”

But instead of leaving you there, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, “you know this y/n.”

“And I’m used to it,” you sharply said. “Why are you still standing there? Go now before I convince you to not go to your gig tonight.’

Sunghoon gave you another look before turning around, watching him leave the classroom as you stood there. Short conversations, sarcastic remarks, and bitter statements that’ll lead to arguments. You wonder when will this end?

“What’s wrong? You’re out of focus today,” Yizhuo asked with a worried tone. You only place your tennis racket down as you grab your water bottle.

“Just the same usual thing,” you answer, sitting on the bench as your best friend did the same thing. She places her hand on your thigh, lightly patting it. 

“Sunghoon again? You know you should stop chasing after him.”

“It’s not that I am chasing him, I’m already tied to him —” you heaved out another heavy sigh. “He’s the one chasing after a dream. Bands? What’s his future with them? After college, they’ll be gone, it’s not like they’ll continue playing after college.”

“He seems to be so passionate about it,” Yizhuo pointed out. “Watched their performance last week at The Rabbit Hole, they’re great by the way.”

“He should be focusing on med school,” you explained. “But he’s out there performing and getting drunk, I don’t know Ning, I don’t know what to do with him. His parents trusted me to take care of him —”

“There you go again, worrying about things that aren’t your control,” your best friend gently pats your back. “You know, you can always back out of the marriage? You’re still young! You might even meet someone better in med school.”

That’s when you stifle a laugh, “how can I? My parents arranged this one.”

“Ran away! Do you really want to spend your life with that idiot?”

You didn’t answer your friend. Your smile disappeared, and for a moment, you only looked at the court where strangers were playing tennis. Your focus shifted to the tennis ball bouncing back and forth from the players until it went out of the court. 

“I do,” you said softly, because from the very start, it has always been Sunghoon. You couldn’t imagine yourself looking for others when Sunghoon is right there from the very start. 

“You’re going to let yourself be a fool for him huh?” Yizhuo asked with a disappointed tone. 

But you only looked at your best friend with a determined smile, “no, I’m going to make him quit the band.”

“You know you’re already doing it but nothing’s changing,” Yizhuo said. You only gave her a smile before standing up from the bench, you two went back to the table where your bags are located. 

“Then I just have to keep on trying more,” you pointed out, fishing out your phone, you opened it and saw missed calls from Sunghoon — which is a surprise. 

You pressed Sunghoon’s number and after a few rings, it answered. 

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called. 

“Hello, who is this?” you asked.

“It’s Heeseung, Sunghoon’s bandmate.”

“Oh! I remember you, you study education right?”

Heeseung faintly chuckles from the background, “yes, that would be me, but listen, uhm…Sunghoon’s drunk right now —”

“Already? It’s only ten in the evening.” 

“Yeah, but you know his alcohol tolerance — listen, uhm can you pick him up? He’s passed out on the couch but doesn’t want to get inside Jay’s car for some reason.” you can sense Heeseung’s apologetic tone, which only made you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like I can leave him there right? Can you send me the location, I’ll be there in a few minutes, I’m just at Decelis’ tennis club,” you said.

“I’ll send it right now, thank you y/n.” And with that, the call ended. You grabbed your bag and bid Yizhuo goodbye. 

“Just reminding you that you can always leave him!” your best friend shouted, and you only gave her a glare before sprinting towards your car.

Sunghoon’s location drove you to a huge house, just a few blocks away from the university. Parking your car nearby, you got off from it and headed towards the entrance, ringing the bell twice. 

The door opened, revealing a tall and familiar guy who you assumed was Heeseung.

“You’re here, that’s great, we’ll get Sunghoon but come in first,” he said with a smile, you only nod as you enter the house. 

“You’re Heeseung right?” you asked as you two walked towards the living room. Heeseung stops and looks at you, he looks surprised but only nods. 

“Yeah, this is probably the first time we met, I only see you inside the campus and that’s a rare occurrence.” he said. 

Entering the living room, the first thing you saw was Sunghoon flat-out dead on the couch while some boys were cleaning the mess on the coffee table along with some girls. Can beers and bottles of vodkas placed on the table along with some snacks, while their instruments are set-up on a corner. 

“He said that he was on a gig,” you stated, walking towards Sunghoon. 

“Yeah, we just finished it earlier and he kinda insisted that we celebrate it,” Heeseung shrugs. 

“He has the guts to drink his heart out and then not go to class the next day,” you muttered under breath as you lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“He’s not gonna wake up anytime soon,” said another voice. “I’m Jay, and this is Jungwon.”

“Hi, sorry for the hassle,” the blonde boy said.

“I’m sorry for Sunghoon too, I feel like you guys always have to take care of him whenever he’s like this.” 

“We’re used to it, no worries,” Jay assured. 

“And that worries me more because he just doesn’t stop,” you pointed out. “You’ll end up tolerating his bad habits.”

No one said a thing. The three of them watched as you attempted to pull Sunghoon to sit up from his place, you were struggling but you were persistent.

They know how much you dislike Arcanum, seeing it as nothing but a university band who performs. Despite all of Sunghoon’s rants and complaints about you, the remaining three decided to be civil with you since they know that you’re going to be Sunghoon’s future wife.

“If that’s your worry, we don’t tolerate bad habits here,” Heeseung breaks the silence approaching you as he lifts Sunghoon on his shoulders, along with the other two who held his limbs. 

“That’s not my only worry,” you whispered, Heeseung glances at you before proceeding to carry Sunghoon outside towards your car. 

They set him neatly on the passenger seat, Sunghoon didn’t move nor made a sound as they put on his seatbelt. It’s safe to assume that he’s passed-out drunk and frustration is written all over your face. They weren’t that stupid to notice it, Sunghoon has lately become too attached with alcohol.

“You guys know that he’s studying medicine right? After college, he’s going to med school,” you asked them, who only glanced at each other, knowing that it’s the total opposite of what Sunghoon has been telling them. 

“If he keeps going on like this, I don’t know what will happen to him in the future,” you said one last time before going inside your car and driving away from the place. 

The silence was devouring, you kept on glancing at Sunghoon from time to time, checking if he had gained consciousness or not. You only tighten your hold on the steering wheel as you speeden your drive towards your place. 

As you arrive at your house, that’s when you face the challenge of carrying Sunghoon inside your place. You opened the door of the passenger seat and lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder. He didn’t budge for a moment, that’s when you called out his name, shaking it harsher than before. 

You watch as Sunghoon’s eyebrows knit, letting out a frustrated groan as he attempts to open his eyes. 

“Get up now, we’re home,” you told him.

“y/n?” he asked before closing his eyes. 

“Sunghoon! Wake up please!” you pleaded. But he didn’t move again, so you stood there, thinking about what to do with him. That’s when you used all your strength to swing his heavy arms around your shoulders but as soon as you attempted to pull him out of the car, he didn’t budge. 

“Fucking hell,” you curse, removing his shoulder. This time, you shake his head while screaming his name. For a few seconds, he opens his eyes confused and drowsy. 

“Just lean on me,” you instructed, you grabbed his shoulders once again and this time, Sunghoon managed to move on his own, leaning his huge body against yours. You could only groan as you helped him walk inside your house. 

You didn’t even manage to reach his room, Sunghoon found himself stumbling in the living room — towards the couch where you couldn’t do anything but to fix his position. You left the living room and returned in a minute with a blanket and a pillow for him. 

Gently, you place the pillow below his head and put the blanket on him. Then you stood there, eyes never leaving Sunghoon who’s sleeping now. You kneeled in front of him, brushing his messy bangs so that you could see his face closer.

“What am I going to do with you Hoon?” you whispered, eyes never leaving his face. Sunghoon looks so peaceful and gentle in his sleep — this is probably the only time you see him this peaceful. 

A bitter smile escapes your lips because the more you look at him, the more it slowly sinks into you that tomorrow won’t be like this.  “Goodnight Sunghoon,” you mumbled, patting his head one last time before returning to your room. 

-

Your routine was disrupted when Sunghoon barged into the kitchen, angry and frustrated. 

“Y/n!? What the fuck!?” you stopped your tracks, turning off the stove before turning around to see a disheveled and mad Sunghoon in front of you. 

“Is there something wrong?” you asked.

“Don’t act so fucking innocent now, you know what you did,” Sunghood accused you. 

“Maybe get straight to the point rather than pointing fingers on me,” you replied. 

“You told my friends about med school,” he answered. “Now they think that Arcanum’s messing up my future.”

“Well isn’t it? Sunghoon, you really think that you’re going to play in that band forever?” you taunted. It’s been a few days since you had a talk with his band members. The following day that time, everything seems to be normal for you — not until now that Sunghoon had discovered it. 

“What if I want to? What if I told you that I am not planning to go to med school and I want to perform instead?” he taunted back, stepping forward in front of you which made you step backward, trapping you between the kitchen counter. 

“That’s not what’s planned Sunghoon,” you breathe, forehead creasing as you only stare at him dead. “You knew from the start, ever since we got engaged — engagement, college, marriage, then med school. That was the plan.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe things might change y/n? Maybe I want to perform now rather than take over my father’s business.”

“So you’ll be a disappointment?” you mocked. “You’ll go after your dream? Performing stupid songs and covers rather than repaying your parents’ efforts on you?”

“At least I know what I want, can’t say that to you since you can’t decide for yourself,” Sunghoon mocks. 

A stinging pain burned on Sunghoon’s cheeks. It took him a minute to sink in what you just did, but he could only laugh mockingly as your eyes remained at him, wide but filled with anger. Your palms numbed as it rounded to conceal yourself from doing it again.

“At least I know what’s best for me, and you may not like it but we’re engaged Sunghoon, and I’m not going to let our future be ruined by some mere passion of yours,” you stated, gritting your teeth as your stare became cold. 

Sunghoon didn’t say another word. His eyes speak for it that he’s angry, and he’s only controlling himself from hurting you despite the fact that you hurt him first. You could only stare at him, not attempting to back down. 

But it was as if there’s an angel watching over you, the doorbell rang, indicating a visitor. The two of you turned your head towards the door, and before anyone could say another word, you pushed Sunghoon out of your way, walking towards the door and opening it. 

“Wonyoung!?” you shouted, surprised to see your best friend. 

“Surprise!” the girl shouted in glee, stretching her arms to pull you a hug which you dearly reciprocated. 

“Oh my god, you’re here?” you asked, breaking out from the hug.

“I just got back from Milan and went straight here,” Wonyoung winks before she steps inside your house, your eyes following her as she goes to Sunghoon. 

“Sunghoon! I miss you!” Wonyoung shouted, embracing Sunghoon who only reciprocated it. 

“Long time no see, Wonnie,” Sunghoon gently said.

“It’s great — what happened to your face?” Wonyoung asked, seeing his left cheeks red. 

“Bumped on a wall, but it doesn’t hurt,” Sunghoon lied, before glancing at you who only stared at him coldly.

Wonyoung seems to be convinced by it, laughing it off before pulling you two to a hug. Squealing how much she has missed you two — oblivious about the fight that happened just minutes ago. 

“Do you want some drinks? Come on, sit down for a while,” Sunghoon insisted, ignoring you as he ushered Wonyoung towards the living room. You immediately noticed how Sunghoon’s face lit up, his smile becoming wider that his eyes turned into two curves — the first time in the many months that you saw Sunghoon’s genuine smile. 

It wasn’t always you and Sunghoon ever since you two were kids — there were the three of you. 

Wonyoung is a best friend of yours. A sister that you always needed. She’s a free-spirited girl who always indulges in fun even if it means getting the three of you in trouble. 

Unlike you and Sunghoon, Wonyoung’s family is richer. She was rich enough to have a choice not to attend college and spend her parents’ money that won’t even dent their bank account. While you and Sunghoon are studying in Decelis, Wonyoung was traveling a lot, attending fashion weeks, and brand launches. Slowly, she became a well-known influencer and socialite that collaborates with well-known brands and walks for their runway. It was hard to get a glimpse of her, that’s why it surprised you that she’s here in the city. 

“So, what brings you here instead of going back to our hometown?” you asked, placing the glass of juice in front of her. 

“Mom and dad’s here, they’re actually planning on renewing their vows — oh by the way, you two are invited there and so are your parents, it’s an intimate event but you know them, they want it grandiose and perfect, so I have to help in organizing it,” Wonyoung diligently said. “And I miss you guys! It’s been like a year since we last hung out, hopefully I’m not intruding on whatever plans you have though.”

Talking about wrong timing. You thought. Everything is crumbling between you and Sunghoon but you don’t want Wonyoung to know about that, so you only gave her smile and said, “everything’s fine, a bit hectic because it’s senior year, but it’s a rare case that you’re here, so we’ll make time.” 

Wonyoung only pouts, “you guys, I really miss you, seriously! I love my job but it gets lonely sometimes.”

“You can always go back to college,” Sunghoon teased, making Wonyoung glare at him. 

“Ugh, you dumbass, if I returned to college, you guys would have already graduated!” Wonyoung whined while Sunghoon only laughed. 

“Anyways, I just dropped by to show up to you guys, just tell me when you guys are free, maybe we could go out for dinner — oh, I wanted to see Decelis too! How’s that sound?” Wonyoung delightfully suggested. 

“We’ll make time for you Won, just tell us when you’re free,” Sunghoon answered, making you glance at him. 

Wonyoung only smiled at the answer. She told the two of you that she’s free all the time since there’s not much preparation going on. As she bid goodbye to you, you only gave her a short smile before she was walked out of the door by Sunghoon. Watching the two of them exchange banters before Sunghoon closes the door. 

You stood up from your seat, ready to leave when Sunghoon cornered you immediately. 

“You think we’re done? I’m not done yet y/n,” Sunghoon growled. 

But you only gave him a bored smile, “Wonyoung’s here Hoon, can we just not do this? I don’t want her seeing us fight —”

“You care more about what others think of us huh? Of course, you don’t want everyone to see the ‘perfect daughter’ imperfect.”

“It’s seldom for us to see Wonnie, I don’t want her to think that our friendship is ruined, we’re the only one that she has,” you pointed out. 

“Well, too bad for her, it’s already ruined, the moment both of us got engaged.” Sunghoon didn’t even let you say another word. He eventually went back to his room, slamming the door loudly like he always does. 

You remained there standing, words deeply cutting through your mind. You looked at Sunghoon’s door once again, before heaving a sigh. The palm of your hand remained heavy, guilt swallowing you knowing that perhaps, you went too far this time. 

-

Over the weekend, the three of you went out as per Wonyoung’s request. Going to a nearby mall where you three had brunch, played at the arcade, and even took photos at the photobooth. The whole day felt nice for you, it felt like you three are back as teens who would sneak out at night just to hangout and drive around town. 

While you and Sunghoon are still not okay, a silent truce was made for Wonyoung. You two never tried to argue or fight whenever she’s around, and although it can be suffocating for the both of you, you two tried to act as normal as possible. 

“I do wonder what would happen to us if I stayed and studied college,” Wonyoung ponders. The three of you decided to have ramen and convenience store snacks by the end of the day, opting to watch the sunset at a nearby park. It was Wonyoung’s request because she was curious what it feels like, seeing it on social media not knowing that this is also the first time you and Sunghoon had experienced it. 

“What makes you think about that?” you asked.

Wonyoung only smiles, “you guys seem to be so secured with your future, becoming doctors and stuff, while me? I don’t know what I am doing.”

“You’re doing what you love,” Sunghoon butts in. “And that matters, you know? At least you love what you’re doing, not because it’ll secure you a good future.” 

You know what Sunghoon was trying to say, but you remained quiet, watching as Wonyoung nodded at Sunghoon’s advice. 

“You’re right, I do love the free pr packages and clothes,” Wonyoung jokes, laughing before pulling you two to a hug. “You guys are the best, hope nothing changes with the three of us.”

A meaningful glance was exchanged between you and Sunghoon. Not one said a word, only actions spoke as both of you embraced your best friend back.

The following week, Decelis University had a one-day event, cancelling academic activities which was an opportunity for you to invite Wonyoung to tour around Decelis. She arrived around three in the afternoon, hugging you and Sunghoon as she complained how organizing her parents’ renewal of vows became hectic, happy that she was able to relax for today. 

The tour went on with ease, Wonyoung was curioused at the different department buildings of Decelis since its structure differed from others. Taking photos using her film camera which she used to take photos of the three of you too. 

“So this is called the lover’s garden because lovers often come here?” Wonyoung asked, pointing at Decelis’ botanical garden which is actually for botany and biology students. 

“More like a lover's hideaway, it’s pitch black there during night, I’m leaving up to your imagination what couples do there,” Sunghoon explains, a teasing smile on his lips as Wonyoung’s face distorted in disgust. 

“Ew! Why can’t you guys book a hotel room or something,” she commented and yet, her camera was ready. “Oh well, might as well take a picture of both of you —”

“What?” you asked, appalled. “Won, we never did it.”

“And save myself from imagining you two banging, just stand in front of the entrance! You guys are a couple right? Come on now, you two don’t have a photo together!” Wonyoung insisted. 

An exchange of glances was given, but before you could even complain once again, Sunghoon pulled you towards the entrance. 

“Come on now, the more you complain, the more Wonyoung will insist,” Sunghoon boredly explained. You didn’t say a word, you stood there before facing the camera. 

“Pose! You guys are so stiff, it’s like you two aren’t in love with each other,” Wonyoung taunted before preparing her camera again. 

Funny because you two aren’t at all. But no protest was made when Sunghoon swings his arms around your shoulder before pulling you closer. You can feel your heart skip a beat, but it was immediately reminded by your mind. The more you complain, the more Wonyoung insists. Sunghoon did it so that it can be finished early, so you fake a smile as Wonyoung clicks the button. 

She stares at the screen, smiles wide as she looks at you two, “you guys are perfect for each other.” 

“Very funny Won,” you sarcastically replied.

After the endless walking and tour, you three stumbled at your building’s cafeteria, buying drinks as Wonyoung is still in awe about your university, totally immersing herself with your college life. 

“What about dinner? I’m pretty sure you guys have a lot of good eateries around,” Wonyoung suggested, it was five-thirty in the afternoon, the sun was almost setting which meant that it's time for early dinner for most students.

“You guys can go on,” Sunghoon said, standing from his seat. “I have to go, I have a gig.”

You internally scoff, even if Wonyoung’s here, Sunghoon couldn’t bear to miss his band’s gig.

“Wait, can we watch?” Wonyoung excitedly asked, making the two of you look at her.

“Ask y/n if she wants to,” Sunghoon bitterly said, and you only looked away from him, rolling your eyes. 

“What? You haven’t seen Sunghoon’s gig?” your best friend asked, confused before gazing her eyes back to Sunghoon.

Your lips tightened, “I’m busy…I don’t have time —”

“Then this is a great time to watch his gig! Come on!”

You weren’t able to object, Wonyoung was so excited that it only left you quiet as she pulled you away from your seat. 

Arcanum’s weekly gig was held at The Rabbit Hole — a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge under Decelis University’s funding. The place was cozy, designed with vintage interiors with a small stage place in the end. This is the first time you went to that place, almost surprised to see that it’s full of people; locals, students, and probably fans of Arcanum crowded the small establishment. 

You and Wonyoung find yourself at a table for two far from the stage but enough to see their performance. Sunghoon excuses himself as he went to the back room where it serves as Arcanum’s waiting room. 

“Do you even know that Sunghoon plays in the band?” Wonyoung jokes, eyes never leaving the menu on her hand. 

“I do, I just don’t have time to watch his performance,” you half-lied. The truth is, you never tried to find time to watch their performance. For what? You always say to Sunghoon whenever he invites you to his gig, you rather spend the time studying or doing something much important for you. 

“Well I’m glad I’m here because we’re going to watch him perform!” your best friend giggled, you only gave her a small smile before glancing at the menu once again. 

While waiting for your food to arrive, you noticed how the place slowly became full to the point that there weren’t any tables left and some people opted to stand instead. Your eyes never left the crowd, wondering if this is the usual situation to Arcanum’s gig. 

Around seven in the evening, your food arrived but you were startled when the crowd started screaming — mostly girls of course, making you shift your attention at the stage.

There they were, Arcanum. The four-member band of Decelis University. They changed their school uniform with a casual street-style outfit. Your eyes fixated on Sunghoon who’s wearing a football jersey, pairing it with a huge chain necklace and cargo pants.

You watch as he busies himself with his keyboard — the instrument that he bought by saving up his allowance. You remember how he excitedly unboxed it in the living room, even testing it out while you sat on the couch reviewing for your midterm exams. Somehow, he was careful with it, caring for it like it’s his own child. 

“Wow, we have a full house tonight!” your attention immediately caught on Heeseung who’s in the center, holding a bass guitar as his smile was wide and gleaming. Screams can be heard from the crowd, a fangirl even shouted “I love you Heeseung!” which only made the vocalist chuckle. 

“Before that, let’s have a crowd check don’t we? Who's here for the first time?” Heeseung asked, raising his hands which a few in the crowd followed. 

“Us! It’s our first time!” you were startled when Wonyoung shouted loudly, standing up from her seat as she grabbed your hands and raised it together with hers — caughting Heeseung’s attention, an evident smirk on the male’s lips can be seen.

“Oh? I am seeing familiar faces here, do we Hoon?” the vocalist teased, Sunghoon only smirked as he crossed his arms. 

“I have to impress my guests, so you better do your best Hee,” Sunghoon nonchalantly replied before glancing at the two of you. Eyes immediately locking on yours as he raised his eyebrow knowingly — like he was telling you that he was meant to be there, performing. 

“Well better set the mood right, come on guys,” with that, Heeseung signals the band and at the count of three, they start playing synchronically. 

The crowd started screaming. You can see it, how synergized they were. They weren’t just there to perform, they were also having fun. The way Heeseung interacted with the crowd along with Jay, making the small stage as his own. He then stands in front of the microphone stand, singing the first line of a song unfamiliar to you. 

“The vocalist sounds so good!” you hear Wonyoung exclaim and you only nod at her words, it is true that Heeseung was good, but your eyes darted to Sunghoon. 

There he was, blending in the background along with Jungwon who’s at the drums, but compared to the junior, Sunghoon wasn’t banging his head as the drumsticks slammed against the drums. He wasn’t like Heeseung who controls the crowd, nor Jay who’s rocking his electric guitar like crazy. 

Sunghoon was there like a quiet mystery, a controlled relaxed expression as he immersed himself with playing the keyboard, a few head nods as his chords synchronised with others. You could only blink, deja vu hitting you all of the sudden — you remember the first time you saw Sunghoon. 

He bores the same expression that he had back when he was young. Your gaze locked on him, not noticing how your eyes met each other, but quickly, Sunghoon looked away and continued playing. Something inside you was burning, strangely your heart was beating like crazy as you watched Sunghoon perform.

You didn’t even notice that the song was finished. The crowd applauded and cheered for them, Heeseung jokingly bows before asking if the crowd wants some more. 

Throughout the whole gig, your eyes never left Sunghoon. Throughout their whole performance, you watch him change his expression more than the duration that you two had lived together, but all only fell into one conclusion — Sunghoon was happy to perform. You can see it from the way he was serious while playing the keyboard up to the way he joked with his bandmates, letting out small laughter and eye smiles throughout the small break. 

The gig ends around nine in the evening. As they stepped down from the stage, people swarmed them excitedly. Asking for pictures and small talks. You watch as Sunghoon happily accepts his fans’ request, taking pictures with them, which made Wonyoung laugh, knowing that Sunghoon can be awkward with strangers.

“Congrats! You guys are so awesome!” Wonyoung exclaimed as soon as Sunghoon approached you two. 

“Thanks Won,” Sunghoon quietly said, before glancing at you. A moment of silence hovered between the two of you before Wonyoung nudged you. 

“You did great,” you told him, giving him a small smile afterwards. 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, surprised by your words. You only looked away, embarrassed while Sunghoon’s gaze remained at you. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. 

“It’s nothing Hoon,” you quickly turned down. 

The night ended with the three of you remaining at The Rabbit Hole for some light dinner and drinks. Sunghoon introduced Arcanum to you and Wonyoung once again, and it wasn’t a surprise that Wonyoung got along with them easily. You remain quiet throughout the night, listening to their conversation while you only take your space at the end of the table — knowing that you don’t relate to them at all.

Around eleven in the evening, you drop Wonyoung off to the hotel where she was staying, reminding you about her parents’ second wedding before bidding you two goodbye. The drive back to your home was quiet, an awkward atmosphere that both of you couldn’t comprehend. You can feel Sunghoon’s glance at you at every minute but you chose to ignore it, too tired to give it a meaning. 

“Do you mean it?” The moment you two stepped inside the living room, Sunghoon broke the tension between you two. 

You only turned around, a bored gaze staring at him but he remained unfazed. 

“Do you mean what you said earlier?” he asked, merely audible like he was embarrassed to ask you that.

For a moment you ponder. You wanted to tell him that it reminds you from the time that you two first met. Like the Sunghoon who you grew up with — but your mind stopped you. What for? If you told him that, it meant that he was right, he’s much better to be a keyboardist than a doctor. That means you accept his passion. 

“I wish you could’ve put that same energy in your studies,” so you told him that instead. A cold statement that your mind won’t stop reminding him. 

From there, you saw how the small hope in his eyes faded, followed by bitter laughter escaping from his lips. “Why did I even bother asking you again.”

He passes by you, like you’re nothing but a ghost, going straight to his room while you left there standing alone, guilt slowly growing in your heart. 

-

The second wedding of Wonyoung’s parents was extravagant just like what your best friend said. A small private reception was held at a banquet of a five-star hotel after their renewal at a small hall nearby. Flowers filled the white crystallized hall, something straight out of a royalty. You could only awe as you entered the place, arms clutched at Sunghoon who merely spoke throughout the day. 

“Sunghoon, y/n! Glad to see you two!” Mrs. Jang approached you two with a hug and kiss, you only smiled at the woman who’s like a mother to you. 

“Congratulations auntie, the vows were so sweet, I almost cried!” you said, making the woman laugh. 

“I bet you’ll write better vows than me,” she winks. “Both your parents have been talking about retirement and taking care of their grandkids from you two — gosh! You two are still young! I told them.” 

You only stifled a laugh to hide the awkwardness, Mrs. Jang only gave your arms a small squeeze, glancing at you and Sunghoon once again. “You two still have a long way to go, I hope you two won’t give up on each other.” 

You became quiet for a minute, but immediately, you gave her a smile before nodding. “Of course, thank you auntie.” 

Mrs. Jang excused herself to entertain other guests, so you took the opportunity to find your assigned seat where you and Sunghoon sat. Wonyoung was busying herself with the event organizer, you can see the stress on her face but she always lights up whenever she passes the two of you, promising you two that she’ll make it up to you two later.

It didn’t take too long for both of your parents to arrive. You and Sunghoon welcomed them with greetings and hugs, and it was obvious in their face that they were so happy to see you two together.

“Look at you two, you two are like a match made in heaven!” Mrs. Park compliments, you only chuckle at her words. 

“I can hear the wedding bells already! What do you think sweetie? Will this be a great reception for your wedding?” your mother suggested.

“Mom please, let’s not talk about that right now,” you awkwardly said. 

“It’s going to happen anyways,” your mother insisted. “But I do hope you two are doing well in your studies.”

“Of course, everything is going well auntie,” it was Sunghoon who answered, making you glance at him. Faking a smile to your mother who only pats his shoulders with glee.

“Well, that’s glad to hear,” your father answered. “I heard that you two will be attending Decelis Medical School. The passing rate is small there, I’m not scaring you two, just trying to remind you two.” 

“Dad, we’ll be fine, put trust in the two of us,” you assured. 

“Everyone’s expecting from the two of you,” Mr. Park added. “Families, friends, colleagues, everyone. They say there’s no couple who will have a better life than you two.”

Somehow, that only puts more weights on your shoulder. They’re still expecting, and you don’t know what to say to them, hence, you only put a fake smile as an awkward chuckle escapes your lips. 

“Of course,” Sunghoon answers casually like he wasn’t the one who’s actually ruining the whole engagement. “Can you excuse us for a moment? I would like to dance y/n.”

“Oh, such a sweetheart! Of course, you don’t need to tell us that,” Mrs. Park insisted. 

Sunghoon only glances at you, offering his right hand to you, which you only accepted. You knew that he didn’t actually want to dance with you, it’s just an excuse for you two to escape the conversations with both your parents before it gets worse. 

But it leads you two to an even more awkward atmosphere. Your head low as you ignore Sunghoon’s stare that has you melting like ice. Right hand clasps to each other while your other hand is on his shoulder, as his other hand is on your waist, holding you dearly as you two dance along with other couples on the circle.

It felt orchestrated, stiff like two robots forced to dance. You could only listen to the music as you follow Sunghoon’s steps. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said. 

“Rather have this than straight-up lie to our parents,” he said, which only made you bitterly laugh. 

“You don’t need to lie if you weren’t fucking around,” that’s when you look at him, trying to remove his hold when he tugs you closer. His eyes bore nothing but coldness, while yours was intense, filled with annoyance.

“Everyone’s watching us,” Sunghoon whispered. “You’re not going to make a mess aren’t you?”

“Why would I make a mess at someone’s wedding? That’ll be shameful Hoon,” you stated the obvious. “I’ll be surprised if you’re the one who’ll make a scene.” 

“Of course, you always think that I’ll do something like that,” he replied. 

“With all the bullshits and mess you’ve been doing lately, it doesn’t surprise me at all,” you gave him a knowing smile. His hold on you tightens, squeezing your hands and you’re convinced that a mark on your waist will bloom the following day. But you didn’t want to back down, your eyes remained at him as you two continued to dance. 

The song ended after what feels like an eternity. Immediately, you and Sunghoon stopped, making you remove his hold from you before giving him another bitter smile. 

“I need a drink, excuse me,” you said, leaving him standing there. 

You remained on the champagne section, lightly sipping the drink which you internally wince. You’re not used to alcoholic drinks but tonight feels like you needed it — maybe two or three, because you honestly don’t know what to do with your life.

The event, supposedly an event where everyone witnessed a renewal of love, made you sick rather than feel romantic. Everything’s suffocating, knowing that you’re the only one who knows about Sunghoon’s rebellion and you can’t do nothing about him while that asshole still managed to put up a show and spew lies to both your parents. 

On your fourth glass, the song suddenly changed into a bright, lively one. A disco song from the 80s that had people in gowns and tuxedos dance drunkenly. And yet, you remained in the corner, watching the crowd even seeing your parents were on the dance floor too, you stifled a laugh because they were probably reminiscing about their youth. 

From there, you caught a glimpse of them. You placed down the glass, stepping forward to see the two of them dancing. 

Sunghoon and Wonyoung. They weren’t not only dancing, but they were laughing too. You watch as the two of them dance, copying each other’s steps, synchronising as they sing along the song. You stood there, frozen. Your eyes never leave them, watching how Sunghoon twirled Wonyoung — like they’re in their own world.

Your fist turned round, nails digging on your palm as you tried to control yourself. Something about them brewed something in you. An unexplainable feeling that you don’t want to acknowledge. Watching them hold hands as they spun along to the music, while you remained nailed to a corner, your stomach wrenched into a weird feeling. — then it hit you. Everything makes sense now. 

That’s it. You didn’t think twice anymore. You went back to your table, grabbing the purse you brought and without looking back, you quietly exited the party. 

You found yourself inside the restroom, locking yourself inside as you tried to control your breathing. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax — but the scene earlier just keeps on replaying in your mind. Your hold on the sink tightens, almost scraping your nails against the marble texture. 

As much as you want to insist that you and Sunghoon are already arranged to marry each other, Sunghoon is far from being yours.

This has always been a marriage of convenience. You always remind that to yourself. Yet, there’s not a day where you wish that Sunghoon would see you differently. That you wish that he sees the reason why you’re doing everything for him. But from what you witnessed earlier, you realized that his heart beats for someone else.

All hopes lost. The signs are there. How can you let someone be married to you when he yearns for another? Everything you’ve done for him crumbled in an instant. Wasted and useless, because not only were your feelings devastated, but you also ruined your friendship with him. 

For the first time, you accept your own defeat. You stared at the mirror, seeing your reflection disgusted you. A spiraling feeling where as you stare at her, all you can see is a deceitful girl who was too selfish and prideful — wondering, if this is all Sunghoon can see in you.

With a heavy heart, you left the restroom, walking towards the empty hallway when someone called your name. You turned around to see him standing there. Your heart skipped a beat but it’s all because of the nervousness that you were feeling.

“Where did you go?” Sunghoon asked, approaching you but you walked away further, not until he grabbed you by your arms. 

“Let me go Sunghoon,” you coldly said, which made Sunghoon let go.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, I thought you’re not going to make a scene?” he sarcastically stated, making you roll your eyes, seeing that it’s just you and him in the hallway. 

“Says the guy who made a scene earlier,” you mocked.

It took a minute for Sunghoon to process what you said, eyebrows knitted as he looked at you with anger. “There’s nothing wrong with dancing with Wonyoung.”

You took a deep breath before facing him. “You like Wonyoung,”

There it is, the heavy feeling that you’ve been holding in ever since your best friend had returned. 

You can see it. You’re not dumb to not observe it. Still, it hurts as much as you want to avoid it, you couldn’t ignore the way Sunghoon’s eyes light up whenever he talks to Wonyoung. How his voice becomes soft and gentle — something that he has never done to you, and never will he.

Tonight was the final nail. As you watch them dance together, it's hard to ignore that something was sparkling between the two of them, and you hate that the truth is there is. They would make such a better couple, a healthier couple if you must say. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sunghoon asked, appalled. 

“You can’t fool me Sunghoon, you like Wonyoung, I can see the way you look at her, like she’s everything to you,” you explained, and every word bites you, hurting you slowly like a venom trailing on your blood. 

“I don’t like her,” Sunghoon confessed, and yet, he only stares at you deadpan. “But if I had the choice, I’ll marry her instead.” 

For a moment you were quiet, then, a bitter laugh escaped your lips because the statement hurts more than Sunghoon actually having feelings for your best friend. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

“Hate is such a deep word y/n, I don’t hate you, we are just too different,” Sunghoon explained. 

“I guess you and Wonyoung are much more similar to each other then,” you mocked. 

“She supports my passion. She understands where I am coming from,” Sunghoon pointed out. “Something you never attempt to do.” 

You only let out a deep sigh before staring at him one last time. You can feel it, the thumping beat of your heart, the short clasps of your breathing as you could only grasp on your hand tightly.

“If that’s the case Sunghoon, let's just end this engagement, nothing good will come out of this.”

Sunghoon looks at you confused, surprised that those words came out of your mouth. “What —”

“Hoon, I give up.” you confessed. “I am done cleaning up your mess, convincing you to focus on becoming a doctor while you go around playing in the band, getting drunk, and here you are, blatantly lying to your parents, acting like everything’s normal.” 

“And who asked you to do that for me? No one, right? Admit it y/n, you’re just scared because the perfect life that you’ve planned was gone.” Sunghoon pointed out.

“You’re right Sunghoon, that’s why let’s stop this engagement. I don’t want to be married to a guy like you, and clearly you don’t want to marry me either.” 

Sunghoon gives you a mocking smile. “A guy like me? Like I didn’t know your feelings for me, y/n,”

“The Sunghoon that I loved was the one who was diligent, dedicated, and nice. The one who was excited to study in Decelis to become a doctor. The one who makes me smile and cares for me. Not the drunkard asshole who’s chasing after a dream because suddenly, your life revolves around playing in the band.” you confessed, glaring at him one last time before walking away.

But it didn’t take Sunghoon a minute to reach after you, grabbing your arms and pulling you closer.

“You really think you can walk away from all of this?” Sunghoon demanded, which made you scoff. 

“What is your problem!? Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re free now!” you shouted, pushing him on his chest, making him step backward and letting you go. That’s when you felt your body weakening, you could only hold on your knees as you felt something wet streaming down your eyes. You softly tap your eyes, not noticing how fast the tears streamed down your face. 

This is the probably the first time you cried. You never cried when you fell from your bicycle. You never cried when you went second place on the honor’s list. You never cried when your parents lecture you. Crying is a sign of weakness for you and you know yourself, that you’re not weak. 

You wanted to curse everything but only a mocking laugh was all you could do. You hated yourself for being vulnerable for a split second — that you cried because of Sunghoon. Of all the reasons that made you cry, it really has to be him. 

That’s when you stood up, glancing at Sunghoon whose eyes widened to see your watery eyes. He tries to approach you but you only look away. That’s when you turned around, running towards the exit and leaving Sunghoon there frozen. 

As soon as you reached your place, you went straight to your room and locked it. You leaned against the door as you deeply exhaled — but that’s where the first outburst came. You dropped to your knees, hands covering your face as you continued to wail. It goes on for so long until your breathing becomes slow, hiccups accompanying every sob that you leave your mouth. 

You don’t feel anything but pain. It hurts. Everything just fucking hurts you. Watching Sunghoon be happy with someone else. Knowing the fact that he doesn’t want to marry you, and the dream of your perfect life was shattered in just a blink of the night. 

Everything that you planned is now nowhere to be found. You hated that it all led to this mess, blaming yourself because maybe, there’s some ways where you could’ve prevented it. Maybe you shouldn’t have given up, this may be just a moment of weakness but hearing those words from Sunghoon, tells you that there’s no hope for everything to be fixed.

Now that everything is done, you could only grab your phone, and as you open it. Your mother’s caller id jumped on the screen. You stared at it for a good minute, but the thought of your mother being disappointed that you and Sunghoon fought, worse, you broke off the engagement scared you. 

So you blocked her number and quickly dialled a number. 

“Y/n? Hello?” Yizhuo’s sleepy voice answered. 

“I’m sorry Ning but I need to crash into your place —”

“What, why? What happen —”

“I broke it off with Sunghoon.” you said, biting your lips to prevent the tears from falling again.

“What the fuck y/n!? Grabbing my keys right now, stay right there and I’m speeding to your place, give me ten minutes!” Yizhuo shouts. 

The call hung-up immediately, which was your sign. You grabbed all the important stuff that you need. Your books, notes, a few clothes and a few toiletries that’ll last you. You still have a few months left before the semester ends, all you need to do is focus on your studies — if you fail to have a perfect marriage, you’re not letting your dream of becoming a doctor slip away too. 

Dragging the luggage with you, you hear the car horn and as you step outside, you see the familiar white car Yizhuo owns. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Yizhuo said, grabbing your luggage and placing it on the back seat. You only sit in the passenger seat as you wait for your friend to enter the driver’s seat. 

“You okay?” Yizhuo asked, gently patting your shoulder. 

Tears started streaming down your face, you could only sob as your best friend pulled you for a hug.

“He’s not worth it y/n, you deserve someone better,” Yizhuo insisted as she broke out from the hug. “I know it’s hard for you because you love him, but are you really going to settle for less? If he truly cares for you, he’ll understand your side despite disliking the idea but he didn’t.”

You could only nod at her words, “I know, I give up Ning. I’m tired, he said he doesn’t want to marry me, so everything is useless.” 

“He’s going to regret letting you go,” Yizhuo swore, starting the engine before patting your shoulder once again. “You can stay in my apartment as long as you want, don’t worry about anything, I got you in this one,” Yizhuo only smiled as you drove away from the place, and as you glanced at the rearview mirror, there it was — Sunghoon’s car. 

You don’t know if he saw you leaving the place, but as you felt your phone vibrating and saw his name on your screen, you only closed your phone and glanced at the window of the car, staring at the places that you pass by, thinking that what you did was for your own good too. 

-

Days after the party, you returned to Decelis University acting like everything’s normal.

You still did your routine, minimizing some tasks since you’re living under Yizhuo’s place and you don’t want to intrude furthermore. You had plans on renting a place on your own but it’ll be a few months until your semester break. This temporary housing of yours is better than enduring living with Sunghoon.

You still don’t know how to approach your parents with the situation, afraid that it might disappoint them, though your reason wherein it’s not your fault at all is strong, you’re still scared because you just ruin everything they have planned for you. 

You only sent a short message to your father that you need time to think, before blocking his phone number too. You know that a lecture will await you, but for now, all you want is space from them. You wanted to focus on your goal without their expectations heaving on your back.

You continued going to your class. Preparations for the Decelis medical school entrance exam are near, and you’re multitasking your time doing your studies and reviewing for the exam. Despite the heavy pressure it had instilled, everything felt light for you, you felt your shoulders becoming lighter and your worries seemed to be fading day by day — perhaps it’s because you’re not worrying about Sunghoon anymore.

Sunghoon on the other hand, you don’t have any news about him. He doesn’t go to your classes either. It looks like he had made up his mind about his life, and whatever he does, you could only wish him good luck. 

As you exit the department building, you hear a familiar voice calling out your name, turning around, your eyes immediately widened at the figure. 

“Wonyoung, what are you doing here?” you asked, approaching your best friend who’s sitting on the gazebo in front of your department building. 

“I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m sorry for ruining what you and Sunghoon had, but listen to me y/n, I don’t like Sunghoon, I treat him like a brother the same way I treat you like a sister. What he said to you was so fucking stupid.” 

“You knew?” you asked, surprised.

“I went to your house the next day but Sunghoon’s the only one there. Everyone was worried y/n! They thought you two eloped, you disappeared without saying any word that night, plus you blocked auntie’s phone number.” Wonyoung explained. 

“I’m sorry, I just — I needed space, my mind’s all over the place, but Wonyoung, I’m not mad at you, it’s not your fault anyway.” 

“Sunghoon told me you broke off the engagement,” Wonyoung said. “Is it because of what he said?”

“He made it clear that he doesn’t want to marry me, so what’s the use Won?”

“You’re giving up now?” she asked. “You used to be persistent, y/n what happened?”

“Even I get tired sometimes, Won. Sunghoon…he’s a hopeless case. No matter how hard I tried to help him, he just didn't want my help.” 

“He’s a mess right now, you know that?” Wonyoung stated. “He’s been looking for you.” 

You halted because of Wonyoung’s words, but quickly, you threw her a bitter smile. “He has always been a mess Won,” you replied. “I’m just tired of picking up after him.” 

Wonyoung merely nods, giving you a pitied smile as she brushes your hair, “I understand where you’re coming from y/n, I know it was also hard for you to decide to break the engagement.”

“Hopefully, it’ll pass,” you said softly. “You’re still going to be my maid of honor no matter who I’m going to marry.” 

That made Wonyoung chuckle, which made you laugh, you hugged her once again and as you felt her arms wrapping around you, you felt relief.

You never wanted jealousy to corrupt your mind, but sometimes you couldn’t help but be insecure at how Wonyoung and Sunghoon’s relationship remained the same while him and yours disappeared in a glimpse. You know that Wonyoung’s not at fault in this one, everything was just a matter of fallout. 

“Since you’re here already, why don’t we go out for dinner? Oh, I’ll introduce you to Ning! You’ll love her!” you suggested, immediately changing the topic.

“I’ve been dying to meet her!” Wonyoung replied, immediately tugging you so that you two can meet your other friend. 

Turns out Wonyoung and Yizhuo are a two deadly duo. You were half-regretting introducing them to each other because now, they were insisting on going out for the night. 

“Come on now, you don’t have any class for tomorrow and you should relieve your stress,” Yizhuo insisted. 

“Really y/n? You’re going to graduate college without experiencing going out with your friends and partying? It’s a good thing I’m here because I am not taking a no for an answer,” Wonyoung added.

You only roll your eyes, “you know that clubs aren’t my thing.”

“That’s because you never experienced it! Come on now, you should loosen yourself up just for one night,”  Yizhuo explained. “Please, you said you need space right? Why not relax? Just for tonight, forget about your parents, their expectations, and your studies. We’ll make it worth it.” 

You only stared at the two of them, both with pleading eyes as they clasp their hands together. Another roll in your eyes was made but there’s a small smile on your face. “Fine, if I passed-out drunk, you guys take care of me.” 

Both squealed in agreement, excited as Wonyoung fished out her phone to make a reservation at a famous club in the city center, while Yizhuo immediately dragged you towards the parking lot where her car is parked, excited to go home so that you can change into something daring (she said) and party all night.

The club was full by the time the three of you arrived, Wonyoung strutted on the small walkway, excusing the strangers as she held your hand while Yizhuo’s behind you, guiding your way towards your table.

A small table for three was reserved for you, a bottle of tequila with lemon and salt was arranged neatly there. As soon as you three reached the place, you immediately sat on the couch while Yizhuo opened the bottle. 

“I hope you know how to take a shot,” she teasingly said as she poured the shot glass full. 

“I know how to, you’re making me like I’m such a nerd that doesn’t go out of her house,” you insisted.

“She drinks, she just doesn’t like going out to clubs,” Wonyoung whispered to Yizhuo who glanced at you while you boredly raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re going to change that, cheers!” Yizhuo shouts, raising the glass which you and Wonyoung copied. The first shot of tequila went straight down on your throat, leaving a burning feeling downwards your chest which made you sneer for a second. 

Shot after shot, you lost count the amount of times the three of you took a shot, the tequila bottle is almost half. Your mind has become hazy, spinning but you can manage it. All you can hear is the loud music coming from the speakers, the dj playing Taylor Swift’s songs which was so fucking random and yet, you didn’t care. You were singing your lungs out along with Wonyoung and Yizhuo who are also tipsy. 

“Let’s hit the dance floor!” Yizhuo suggested when the song changed to some edm music, the three of you squeezed yourself on the dance floor, dancing and singing along as you bumped onto a few people, giving them smiles and small apologies while never stopping dancing. 

You never felt more alive. You didn’t care what would happen tomorrow, all you cared about was that you’re having fun with the two girls that treat you like your sister. They were right, this is what you need and you’re just so happy that you agreed to go out with them. 

That’s why you pulled them closer together, “I love you guys!” you shouted, which only made them laugh.

“Oh my gosh, she’s the emotional type of drunk,” Yizhuo giggled. 

“She only says that when she’s drunk, so savor it,” Wonyoung replied, hugging you back. “I love you too!” making the three of you squeal together before breaking out to continue dancing. 

You only let your body sway along with the music, not noticing a hand wrapping around your waist and as you turn around, you see a guy your age, smiling at you as he hands you his shot glass. 

“No thank you,” you smiled, “I already have one.” 

But he only laughed, “there’s no harm in having another one.”

You only let out a small giggle as you shrug, taking the shot and drinking it straight. You can hear his cheer, along with some guys that you’re unfamiliar with. You failed to notice Yizhuo and Wonyoung whereabouts as you continued to dance with the stranger. 

“You come here often?” he asked, and you only shook your head. 

“It’s too crowded here!” you shouted back. The place was getting hotter, crowds becoming bigger as the guy’s body became way too close to you. 

“Crowded huh? Do you want to go somewhere less crowded?” 

Maybe it was the alcohol — you don’t know, your head’s spinning and everything has become blurry to you, but all you can remember was that you nod at his answer. “Okay! I’m just going to tell my friends I’m leaving.”

“Alright sweetheart.” he smirked, his hold from your waist loosened. 

You tried to find your friends, but your mind is spinning — you couldn’t even remember where your table was. Your head searched sideways, when you felt a tug on your arm, making you turn around.

“She’s not going with you,” Sunghoon said with a cold tone.

“Dude fuck off, go pick some other girls around here,” the stranger tried to pull you away but Sunghoon was fast, immediately backing you behind him. 

“She’s my fiance, if you don’t want any trouble, get lost,” Sunghoon warns. 

“Fuck off Sunghoon,” you rebutted, shaking your grip away from Sunghoon who was surprised by your action. “We’re through, remember?” 

The stranger chuckled, “she doesn’t even want you here, so fuck off, will ya?”

But it didn’t take a split second for Sunghoon to hit  him on the face. His fist landing directly on the nose which made the stranger stumble down. 

Everyone was surprised when the guy fell on the ground, immediately stepping out from the fight. Sunghoon attempted to give the guy another punch but Heeseung and Jay managed to grab him. You didn’t process everything until you felt Wonyoung and Yunjin were behind you. 

“What happened — Sunghoon!” Wonyoung shrieks. The stranger stood up from the ground, but Sunghoon was quick to get away from his friend and charge towards him, landing another punch, and if it wasn’t enough, he landed another, this time harder. 

It didn’t take a minute for the bouncers to enter the scene, separating the two of them. You weren’t able to understand anything, all you know was that your friends pulled you out of the club along with Sunghoon and his friends. 

“Dude calm down,” Heeseung said trying to keep his friend still but Sunghoon pulled away, almost jabbing his friend who only stepped back with hands raised. 

“How can I fucking calm down when y/n almost got in danger tonight!?” he pointed out.

“You almost killed someone!” Jay shouted, trying to get a grip on Sunghoon but he got pushed away too. 

“He should be lucky because I hold back a little bit,” Sunghoon sarcastically laughs. “He deserves it, the way he looked at y/n? I know he has bad intentions.” 

“Stop caring Sunghoon!” you shouted, senses finally hitting you. “So what if I’ll go with that guy? We’re done, remember? I can meet whoever I like.” 

“I don’t care if we’re through, you couldn’t even take care of yourself. What the fuck are you even doing at a club?” Sunghoon lectured.

That’s when you scoff, “just because you can have fun, doesn’t me I can.”

“Oh, so that’s your idea of fun? Getting drugged by a stranger and who knows what they’ll do to you — fucking careless,” Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh, his anger heightening as he glared at Wonyoung. 

“If it wasn’t for me, she would’ve been in danger tonight, what the hell Won!?” Sunghoon angrily lectures. 

“Sunghoon stop blaming us, we were there and we were just letting y/n have fun, we’re not that stupid to let her go with that guy. You just really have to interfere first,” Wonyoung explained, forehead creased with anger.

Sunghoon could only roll his eyes, groaning as he frustratedly brushed his hair. “This is fucking stupid, you three aren’t even safe there!” 

“Just go home Sunghoon,” you shouted once again, making him glance at you. “You’re ruining our night for fuck’s sake.”

But in a split second, Sunghoon pulls you away from Yizhuo, and before you could say another thing, he grabs you by your knees and swings you on his shoulders, your upper body bumping on his back. 

“Sunghoon! Put me down!” you shouted, punching his back but Sunghoon remained unfazed, he then glanced at his friends who were surprised by his action.

“No one follows, this is between the two of us,” Sunghoon warned before he walked towards his car. 

You tried to struggle your way out of his hold, but Sunghoon’s too strong for you. He managed to put you in the passenger seat, even putting on the belt on you. 

“Sunghoon —” 

“Stop struggling y/n, we’ll go home now.” 

“Sunghoon, what fuck is wrong with you? We’re done, how many times do I have to tell you that!?” you shouted at him. “You’re suffocating me.”

“And so do I with you, but we can’t always have what we want.” Sunghoon stated, slamming the door of the car. You weren’t able to say another word, not knowing what he meant by that.

The drive towards your place was quiet yet tense, you could only close your eyes as the throbbing feeling in your head started to become worse. You had too many to drink but all you know that what the guy gave you was just a normal shot. If it would’ve been drugged, then you should’ve been passed-out by now. 

As Sunghoon parked the car inside, you could only stare at the entrance of the house. You do miss your house but there’s a deep feeling of pain lingering in your heart as it reminds you of Sunghoon. You didn’t even notice that Sunghoon had opened the door for you, and you mindlessly left the car. 

Entering the living room, you only stood there as you stare at the place — Sunghoon had maintained it clean even though you left, surprising you since you spent your mornings cleaning the house. 

You can hear the door closing, softly Sunghoon’s footsteps approach you but he stops midway. That’s when you realized how suffocating the emptiness the house had. 

“What is this Sunghoon?” you immediately asked, not even bothering looking at him.

“I just took you home,” Sunghoon simply said and you wanted to laugh. Home. you knew that home meant a lively house with a loving family, not a tense one with a broken engagement. 

“Sunghoon, since it still hasn’t sunk in your mind, our engagement is done, isn’t that what you want?” you repeated. 

“Well, did you even tell that to your parents?” Sunghoon asked casually. “My parents don’t know it yet.” 

You didn’t answer and Sunghoon immediately knew. 

“Of course you haven’t,” he teased. “That technically means we’re still engaged to each other.” 

You only closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself as you felt conflicted. “I don’t understand you Sunghoon, what do you even want? You made it very clear back then that you’d prefer to marry Wonyoung instead of me. Why bring me here again!?”

“I don’t know,” Sunghoon confessed. “It’s just…it’s so lonely here.” 

“I’m not a doll that you can keep,” you heaved. 

“I miss you.” he breathes, and your eyes widen but you could only let out a bitter laugh. 

“Suddenly you miss me? Sunghoon the last time you told me, you don’t want to marry me. Shouldn’t you be happy that we’re done.”

“That doesn’t equate to the fact that I don’t want to call off the engagement,” he stated. 

“You’re confusing me Sunghoon, stand your ground, you don’t want to marry me but you don’t want the engagement to be broken? What do you even want?”

“I was hoping that your mind might change,” Sunghoon said, almost pleading. “That somewhere in you, there’s that girl who first recognized my talent.” 

Silence. You weren’t able to say another word. Slowly, you turned around to see him standing there. His gaze at you gentle and pleading, far different from the looks he gave to you. 

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Sunghoon told you. “Do you remember what you told me?”

Of course. “You have a talent for playing the piano!” you recalled. It was the first thing you said when both your parents introduced you to Sunghoon. It didn’t sinked into you that those words of your younger self would stick in Sunghoon’s mind. 

“When I first joined the band, I thought you’ll be supportive because you’re the first one to recognize my love for playing the piano, but nothing,” Sunghoon chuckles bitterly. “I was hoping that someday, you would understand why I am chasing after my passion. That’s why I was so happy that you watched our performance that night — but you’re too stuck in that dream of yours to recognize it.” 

“It’s not just a dream Hoon, it's what's expected from me, and being a doctor, that’s what’s also expected from you.”

“Have you ever thought of what you want? Are you just going to wake up everyday, listen to your parents’ expectations and follow it? Do you have any idea how sad that is?” 

“I’m my parents’ only daughter, who else is going to make them proud aside from me?” you bitterly said. “And I want this too Hoon, so I’m sorry if my dream isn’t in the form of a passion unlike yours.”

“You’re not going to change your mind aren’t you?” Sunghoon mumbled. “I only pursued my passion and suddenly I’m not fit for your life anymore?” 

“It’s not just about having a perfect life, Hoon. My parents wanted me to marry a doctor, and I’m not going to push you anymore when it’s obvious that your heart beats for your passion.” you explained. 

“What about your heart then? What does your heart yearn for? You’re not going to fight for me anymore?” he said, almost pleading. A desperate turn in his tone shifted in you. 

“I’m done fighting for you Hoon,” you bitterly smiled. “Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?”

“You’re done with me? That’s it?” 

“Sunghoon, I’m really, really tired with everything.” you pleaded. “We’re just going to hurt each other the more we stay in this engagement.”

Sunghoon only stared at you. For a moment, he wanted to rebut your words. He wanted for you to fight furthermore because he knows you. You’re hard-headed, you’re not the type that won’t give up easily. But as he looks in your eyes, all he can is your desperation, eyes that scream for him that you’re tired of everything. 

“You’re really tired aren’t you?” he asked once again. 

“Just let me go Hoon, please.” you whispered. 

“Fine,” he said, defeated. “Only if you stay for the night.”

“What?” you asked, his request was sudden.

“Stay for the night, for me,” he said, almost pleading. “After this, I won’t disturb you anymore. Please, just stay for tonight.” 

It didn’t sink in everything he said, you could only stare at him, eyes wide as you can see how his eyes were almost begging for you. 

“I just…miss you so much,” he whispered. “But after this, we’re done. I’m going to tell my parents that we’re breaking off the engagement.” 

“Okay,” you said in defeat, and Sunghoon could only nod. He grabs your hand and you let him do so.

You found yourself in his room. The silence was engulfing, you stood there clueless as Sunghoon opened his closet, grabbing a shirt and pajamas for you — like you didn’t have any clothes left in your room next door. But you let it be, grabbing the clothes and going towards his bedroom’s bathroom. 

You can feel your heart beating fast. You were nervous, you don’t know what to do since this is the first time you and Sunghoon will sleep together. Sure, you had sleepovers back when you were kids, but those were the three of you. This one is just going to be the two of you, alone, in one bed.

But that’s his only request, when tomorrow comes, everything will be over now. It’s not like you two are going to do something, Sunghoon only wishes for you to stay for the night.

As you entered the room, you saw Sunghoon sitting on the edge of his bed, already in his sleeping clothes. He only stretched out his hands which you accepted and softly, he pulled you to his bed. 

“Let’s go to sleep?” he asked, almost inaudible. You only nod at his request and with that, the two of you settled underneath the blankets. You couldn’t even move, you had your back against Sunghoon and you wondered if he’s already asleep or not. 

It was as if he had read your mind, you felt Sunghoon shifted from his place — and in a second, warm arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer. Your breath halted as his hug tightened, your back almost resting on his chest, like he’s never wanting to let you go. It left you even more confused than ever, you two were never this intimate, and this will probably be the last time you two will be. 

“Goodnight y/n,” he whispered, and you can feel his lips touching the top of your head. 

Goodnight Sunghoon. You said in your mind.

“I’m sorry for everything.” Sunghoon mumbled, barely audible. 

You only closed your eyes, taking a long deep breath to hold yourself from crying. You wondered why he suddenly apologized. Why now? When everything is bound to be over. But you didn’t say a word, you tried to sleep instead, knowing that there’s no will inside you left to fight for yourself and Sunghoon. 

Goodbye Sunghoon.

-

The first semester has ended. The weather has become cold as fall passes by. Decelis University has slowly become empty with students going home to their hometown. 

The remaining months of your semester became a blur to you. You passed all your courses with ease and you managed to receive an academic honor for it. Emails from medical school offers had been appearing in your emails too, which meant that you’re secured to attend med school after graduation. Everything has been good to you — you got everything you need.

When you returned to your hometown, your parents spared you. They told you that they understand why you did it, letting it pass since you didn’t abandon your studies at all. They learned from Sunghoon’s parents that the engagement was called off. They didn’t ask you furthermore about it, and you could do nothing but to apologize not only to your parents but also to the Park family. Disappointment runs through your mind, especially when Sunghoon’s parents trusted you with their son — only for you to fail them.

A knock on the door disturbed your day, as you turned around you saw your parents entering your room. 

“Still studying dear? You’re doing too much now y/n,” your mom softly said, sitting on the edge of the bed along with your father. 

But you only smile, “I want to make sure that I’ll be able to pass Decelis’ entrance exam for medical school, you told me that the passing rate there is small.”

“Yes I know that sweetie but you’re doing too much, why don’t you do something else aside from studying?” your father suggested. 

But you only let out a laugh, “I'm all good dad, thanks for the concern though.”

“Have you ever thought of doing something else y/n? Something that you love?” your mom asked. That’s when you dropped your book, glancing at the two of them.

“Love?” 

“A hobby, what about tennis? You’re great at that sport, maybe you can be an athlete,” your mom happily said. 

“Oh, I do remember that you used to do ballet, I think you still have the skills sweetie,” your father added, which left you confused but chuckling. 

“Mom, dad, what is this all about?” you asked. Silence hovered in the room for a minute, both your parents looked at each other, trying to signal each other who should talk, which left your mother sighing. 

“Maybe, we shouldn’t have pushed you too hard to become a doctor,” your mother pointed out. “And it’s okay for us if you don’t want —”

“I want to become a doctor mom, that has always been my dream,” you rebutted, shifting your focus on your book. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me.”

“We had a talk with Sunghoon’s parents,” that’s when you stopped, glancing at them once again. “They explained why you two called it off.”

“Okay,” you shortly replied. You remember that night where you and Sunghoon slept together. His apology still lingers in your mind. There’s a part of you that wanted to know what he was sorry for. 

But the more you stay there, the more the pain deepens in your heart. You slipped away from his hold the next morning, and starting that day, you never heard anything from Sunghoon. 

He didn’t show up to any of his classes. He just disappeared like a bubble. Wonyoung told you that he doesn’t reply to her texts either. You don’t know if he continued performing in Arcanum, or did he ghost his band members. It’s funny how even though you two are already over, you still have a bit of concern for him. 

“Sweetie, we understand Sunghoon. He chose his dream and maybe it was a little disappointing for you because you always dream that you and Sunghoon will become doctors together, but there will come a point where your dream will change.” your father explained. “Sunghoon just so happens to rekindle his passion for music, it happens.” 

“And there’s nothing I can do about it,” you told them. “That’s why there’s no reason for the engagement to continue.”

“We shouldn’t have pressured you to become a doctor,” your mother insisted. “We were wrong in that part, and we’re very sorry about it dear.”

“Mom, even if you don’t pressure me, I still want to become a doctor no matter what, I will follow your footsteps, so don’t be sorry about it.”

“It’s not just about becoming a doctor,” your father pointed out. “It’s about your engagement with Sunghoon, we shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s already over, so you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Listen y/n, when we set you and Sunghoon to marry, it’s not for our business to emerge. We just knew that you two love each other.” your father explained, hand resting on your knees. The old man faintly smiles at you. “You two were too young to understand it, but it was also our fault for putting so much expectations on the two of you — we should’ve let you two navigate your feelings on your own.” 

“But you said, I should marry a doctor,” you pointed out. “I always knew that it’s going to be Sunghoon, but he changed dad. If he can’t be the one, I’ll just find someone in med school.”

“Oh sweetie, we’re terribly sorry for saying that,” that’s when your mother pulls you to a hug. “But we still want you to marry for love, and dear, it’s not always about his profession, but how he’s going to treat you as your husband.”

“Why now? Why say that to me all of the sudden?” you questioned, breaking out from your mother’s touch.

“We didn’t think it’ll come to this point —”

“No, because from the very start you two insisted that I should marry a doctor because that’s what you two wanted for me! I was lucky that Sunghoon wanted to become a doctor but when he changed his dreams, I did everything just for him to go back!” you shouted.

Both your parents were surprised to hear your voice raise. You stood there, shaking as tears started to flow from your eyes once again.

“I did everything in my life just to please your expectations because I know that you two always know what’s best for me, and I didn’t want to fail you guys. But now, I feel so stupid because suddenly, I have the freedom to choose what I want,” a bitter laugh escapes your mouth, you brushed your hair as you bit your lips. Trying to stop the tears from falling.

“I even roped Sunghoon in my dreams because that’s what you guys want for me, and I was scared of disappointing you two if he didn’t become a doctor — you could’ve told me from the start! Then maybe, I could’ve supported Sunghoon instead of suffocating him.” 

Your parents remained quiet. Sitting there as they watch their daughter cry. Both of them were surprised, never thinking they’ll see you cry. You have always been a strong girl for them, but then again, everyone crumbles. 

“We can still fix it dear,” your mother insisted. 

“It’s too late now mom,” you answered. “It’s not just about the engagement, Sunghoon and I, we’re done with everything. We spent our lives living up to your expectations, and this is the only time we made a choice for ourselves.”

Before they could say anything. You scurried to grab your phone and jacket, storming out of your room as your parents couldn’t do anything but watch you disappear from their sight. 

You found yourself at the small playground near your house. Sitting on the end of the slide as you hiccup your cries.

You hate your parents and how their mind suddenly changed in a glimpse. Marry for love? Love was never the problem for you, it was the fact that they spent your whole life shaping you into an ideal life only for them to take it back. You’ll marry for love in a heartbeat but it never crossed your mind because their expectations came first. 

If only. You could only think of the what-ifs because somehow, you spent your whole life making your parents proud — that you couldn’t even make a choice on your own. “Do you have any idea how sad that is?” you remember Sunghoon’s words to you, making you close your eyes as tears continued to flow along with your soft sobs.

Sunghoon’s right. All your life you did your best to follow your parents’ footsteps, never tried to navigate other hobbies or passions — perhaps that’s why you weren’t able to understand Sunghoon’s dreams at all. You suddenly felt lost, not knowing what to do with your life anymore. Sunghoon and Wonyoung, they’ll be choosing the things they love.

What about you? You don’t know anymore, you don’t even know if becoming a doctor is what you want — or it’s just something that has been engraved to you by your parents that you learned to love it somehow. 

“y/n?” You looked up and to your surprise, Sunghoon’s mother was standing in front of you. 

“Auntie,” you quickly stood up and wiped the tears away. “What brings you here?”

“I was supposed to visit you today,” she said with a soft tone. “But I caught you here on the way, is there something wrong?” 

You immediately fake a smile, even though your nose was runny and eyes are puffy red, you tried your best to assure the woman that you’re okay. But she simply shakes her head before patting your head. 

“Come on, let’s have a talk.”

You two ended up in a small coffee shop nearby. You watch as Mrs. Park lightly sips on her tea, before glancing at you. She then smiles, and you can see where Sunghoon got his eye smile, and somehow, that comforts you. 

“When Sunghoon told us that he wanted to play for a band instead, we were disappointed,” Mrs. Park explained. “His dad was furious, but what else can we do? Stop him from doing what he loves?”

You only remained quiet, listening to Mrs. Park as she softly chuckled. “As parents, we only want what’s best for our children, but it’s still up to them to choose their future. For Sunghoon, we let him be, it’s what he wants.”

Then, she glances at you. “You know, Sunghoon broke the engagement because he doesn’t want to hurt you anymore?”

“I’m sorry I gave up on him.” you apologized immediately. “We — we’re just too different auntie.”

“Well, opposites do attract my dear,” she jokingly said, making you let out a small chuckle. From there, her expression softens. Looking at you pitifully, the woman can see the stress you went through and it breaks her heart, knowing that they were the reasons why you’re like that. 

“You’ve done a lot for my son y/n, and I am thankful for that,” Mrs. Park smiles. “You’ll be a great wife for him, someone who’ll come to knock his senses but — everyone gets tired sometimes.” 

You only smile at her, but Mrs. Park’s eyes glistened with a meaningful smile on her lips. “That’s why it’s important to rest, everything is not the end just because you were tired.” 

You became quiet because of her words. Mrs. Park stretches her hand, holding your hand as she squeezed it lightly. “Just rest dear, take your time for yourself, everything is not too late.”

“But —”

“Listen to your heart this time dear, only your heart knows what’s truly best for you.”

-

You returned to your shared house a week before the next semester started. 

The moment you opened the door, you were welcomed by its hollow silence, making you bitterly smile because you do miss the silence — and you’ll miss it more now that it won’t be the place you’ll go home to.

Slowly, you opened your room and noticed that it was the same as how you left it the night you ran away. Sunghoon didn’t touch any of it, and you were glad that he didn’t. You didn’t waste any time, you grabbed the luggage that you brought with you, packing all the things that you have in your room. 

You spent the day packing your things. Neatly folding everything, and stacking it inside your storage box. You managed to finish it before sunset, going back and forth to load it inside your car. And with one last glance in the empty room, you could only mutter goodbye as you dragged your luggage with you. 

But as soon as you reach the living room, you hear the doorknob unlocking, making you stop. You can feel your heart starting to beat fast, praying that it won’t be him. 

“Y/n?” you saw how Sunghoon’s eyes widened as he saw you, but his eyes immediately darted at the luggage that you were holding. 

You only took a deep breath before giving him a smile, “I just came by to grab my things.” 

“Wait, wait — why?” Sunghoon hurriedly went towards you, hands grabbing your arm. 

“Our engagement’s over Sunghoon, so there’s no need for us to be together,” you gritted your teeth. Every word felt like a knife stabbing inside you. 

“Y/n, can you just listen to me —”

“Sunghoon stop, there’s nothing for us to talk about.” 

“You know that everything’s not too late right? We can still fix it.”

“What’s to fix Sunghoon?” you asked. “I thought we made it clear that we’re done.”

“If you’re done fighting for me, then I’m fighting for you now,” Sunghoon insisted, grabbing you by your shoulders. You tried to get out of his hold but he tightens his hold on you. 

“Why now Hoon? Where were you, when I was fighting for everything? You can’t just enter my life and expect me to accept you immediately —”

“I love you okay!?” he shouted, completely shutting you off. Eyes wide from the sudden confession. 

Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes stressed and dark, yet it screams for your plea. “I’m sorry that I realized my feelings just now, I know I was late but it’s never too late for us, just listen to me —”

“Hoon stop —”

“Y/n, just for once why don’t you listen to your heart?” Sunghoon stated. “You know deep inside, that it’s not too late for us to fix it. Your parents, my parents, they know that it’s not too late, it’s only you who doesn’t want to —"

“Because I’m scared, Hoon!” you shouted, shutting Sunghoon off. 

“I don’t know what to do with my life anymore Hoon and that fucking scares me. Suddenly I have my own freedom and I don’t know whether my decisions will be right or wrong. If I end up choosing what my heart wants, I might just ended up failing myself”

“You know you don’t always need to be perfect right?” Sunghoon whispered to you. “People make mistakes y/n, we’re flawed, and there’s nothing wrong with making mistakes.”

You only shake your head. “I don’t know Hoon, I don’t know what I should do anymore.”

“Just listen to your heart,” The hold on your shoulders tightens. “Go for the things you love, not because it’s what your parents taught you, or because it’s what’s for the best. You know this y/n, what do you want?” 

You. You thought. In a heartbeat, it has always been Sunghoon. Despite all the mess, the rough paths, and fights you two had. In the end, your heart beats for him. 

And as you look at him, there were no longer cold gaze and emptiness in his eyes, his eyes yearn for you too. The years of your unrequited love for him are over now.

“It’s you Hoon,” you mumbled, a bite on your lips as you started stuttering. “I’m just afraid after everything that happened to us.”

“We can work it out, we may have started on a rough path but I know that we can make it through.” he deeply sighs. “I’m sorry for everything, I know I said some harsh words but I was angry at that time, I’m sorry y/n, I was just frustrated but I didn’t mean every word that I said, it has always been you,”

You only stared at him, “how can I trust you Sunghoon?”

“Let me make it up to you y/n,” he swore, hands finding its way to your face. “If you let me, I’ll prove it to you.”

“How? How can I be so sure about you?”

“We’ll start again y/n, don’t worry about us, we’ll navigate this together, I won’t hurt you anymore.” Sunghoon promised. “Just be with me okay? You’ll be there for me right?” 

You only stared at Sunghoon. He has his lips tightly sealed, his eyes were searching for yours, the same eyes that yearned for you that night. Your heart started beating faster, and you weren’t able to process that tears are starting to fall from your eyes. Your mind was telling you to run away again, but your heart — it beats for him. 

You don’t know what to say, you only nod at his words. That’s when Sunghoon understood what you meant. Slowly he leans in, closing the space between the two of you. 

You always thought that your first kiss with Sunghoon would be at your wedding. After you two exchange vows. It'll be short yet momentary. Significant in your life and a symbol that you and Sunghoon are going to be together, forever. 

But as he kissed you right now after swearing to prove his worth for you, that’s when it halted you that Sunghoon’s words weren’t just empty promises. The way his lips trailed on yours, hands holding your face gently as he tilts more to deepen the kiss — making you kiss him back, softly yet surely.

You two weren’t wearing your wedding clothes, no rings, nor applauses from the crowd. It’s just the two of you, alone, in your house’ living room.

As you two broke from the kiss, Sunghoon’s forehead rested on yours, catching each other’s breath, you can see the small smile forming on Sunghoon’s lips. 

“Tell me it’s true Sunghoon,” you whispered to him, eyes never leaving him. “I want to hear it from you.”

“I love you y/n,” Sunghoon confesses. “It has always been you, and no one else.” 

You could only chuckle in disbelief as you felt a tear fall from your eyes, Sunghoon quickly wiped it off with his thumb before pulling you for another kiss, to which you responded quickly. From there, everything started to heat up, you could only place your arms around Sunghoon’s neck as you two continued to kiss like there’s no tomorrow. 

Sunghoon didn’t waste any second. He grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up with ease without breaking the kiss, while you wrap your legs around his waist for support. The two of you ended up in his room wherein he gently placed you down to his bed. 

“Are you sure about this?” he softly asked, eyes never leaving yours. He looks at you lovingly, like he was mesmerized that you’re his. 

“I’m sure,” you answered. “And I’m sure that it’s going to be you Sunghoon.” 

“I’ll take good care of you then,” Sunghoon answered before leaning down for another kiss. You only closed your eyes and kissed Sunghoon back. 

You can feel it. The longing of tasting each other. The way Sunghoon kisses you gently, taking his time to savor you as he deepens his lips on you more. Soft nibbles on your lower lip making you whimper softly.

It went on and on, no one dared to break the kiss. Both hands trying to navigate each other. His right hand finds its way to yours, clasping between your fingers as he rests it on the side of your head. 

Sunghoon breaks from the kiss, but immediately places his lips on your jawline until it reaches your neck. Planting soft kisses like he wanted to taste every skin of yours. His left hand finds its way to your body, gently tracing your upper body as you grasp on his sheets. 

“Can I?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shirt, which you nodded feverishly. You lifted yourself slightly for Sunghoon to remove your shirt before removing his shirt too. His toned body, and carved abs revealed in front of you which you could only stare for a minute. Who would’ve thought that underneath those baggy hoodies and large shirts, is a godlike body? 

On the other hand, Sunghoon didn’t waste any time, he grabs your face once again, locking you to a kiss that’s more intense, hungrier than earlier. He was battling to get a taste of you more, tongue swiping on your lower lip making you moan, you could only shut your eyes as Sunghoon sloppily entered his tongue inside you.

Teeths clashing, tongue travelling inside you, your body started to heat up as Sunghoon continued to taste your lips further. He then started targeting your neck, making you tilt your head to make room for him. Hot, messy, wet kisses trailing on every skin his lips could reach. You let out a soft moan as Sunghoon’s hands trailed towards your bra, softly cupping your breast while his lips continued to bite your neck, sucking it lightly leaving purple marks all over it.  

“So beautiful, only for me right?” he whispered to your left ear, planting a kiss on it before glancing at you. 

“Only for you Hoon,” you whispered back, Sunghoon merely chuckling before darting his eyes on your lower body. 

“Is this your first?” he asked, you only nod.

“Been waiting for you.” you muttered, and the next thing you knew, Sunghoon’s lips were on yours once again. 

“Good girl, we’ll make it worth it yeah?” Sunghoon asked. “It’ll be special for us, we’ll be each other’s first. I told you I’ll prove my worth to you.” 

Sunghoon gently unbuttons your pants before tugging it downwards, leaving you in your panties while he hastily removes his shorts, leaving him in his boxers. 

“Come here love,” he gestured as he sat on the mattress, you only followed him as he pulled you to sit on his lap. A gasp leaving your lips as you could only hold your breath, feeling Sunghoon hard underneath. He’s big. You can feel it as you sit prettily on it, your clothed cunt just right above it. 

Your thoughts only trailed off as Sunghoon continued to kiss you, hands attempting to unclasp your bra which made you chuckle in the middle of your makeout. You helped him unclasp it before throwing the bra somewhere. 

“So fucking gorgeous for me,” Sunghoon gestured. His hands started circling on your boobs, cupping your right side making you whimper. Sunghoon's eyes never leaving yours as his hands trailed downwards, fingers tracing every skin of your body until it reached the hem of your panties. 

“Is it okay?” he asked. 

“Please Sunghoon,” you pleaded, unable to ignore the heat that you’ve been feeling. 

Sunghoon’s fingers delicately feather on your clothed pussy. You softly moan as his palms cup it, rubbing on it as the slightest friction heats you furthermore. You wanted more, unknowingly you bucked your hips to his hand. Sunghoon fastens the way he rubs your pussy as you continue grinding against it. 

“Sunghoon —” 

“Do you want to touch mine too?” he asked, tone deeper than usual. You only stared at him for a good minute before you nod. 

Sunghoon grabs your hand, gently guides it until your palm rests on his hard-on. It’s straining underneath his boxer, and just from your touch, you know that one hand wasn’t enough. You palmed it slowly, hearing soft breathing Sunghoon which fueled something in you.

“Can I do it?” you asked, your hands trailing on the hem of his boxer. 

“Go on love,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your temple. 

You pulled Sunghoon’s boxer, his hard length springing from it. Hard and thick, you looked at Sunghoon as you wrapped your hands around it, and you’re right, one hand isn’t enough. Your hands reach its tip, the pre-cum budding on its end, having you smear it as you circled your palms on his tip. 

You watched as Sunghoon looked at you darkly. A faint smirk on his lips as you felt his fingers slipped under your panties, you let out a soft moan as his fingers found their way on your pussy. Softly trailing on its lips before going up to your clit, three fingers circling it slowly which made you twitch for a second. 

Your hands started to stroke Sunghoon’s cock, slow and steady like you're memorizing every inch of it. It goes the same with him as he continues to rub your clit, harder leaving you breathless as you continue to pump his cock faster, squeezing his tip at every chance that you can. Earning breathy groans from him. 

“Going to prepare you love, just breathe for me okay?” Sunghoon instructed and you could only moan in response. Your other hand found its hold on his shoulders, head resting on it as you nervously can feel his fingers near your entrance. 

“You’re so wet for me, so fucking good,” he whispered to you, before slipping inside your pussy. You let out a deep sigh as his index finger rested inside you. “Just relax for me okay?” slowly he drags his fingers in and out, watching you fall in front of him as you couldn’t do anything but to leave breathy moans. 

“Sunghoon —” you called out as you could feel him insert another finger inside you, the sudden move made you squeeze his dick hard, making Sunghoon curse under his breath. You mindlessly continued to stroke it as Sunghoon’s fingers circled inside you. 

“Relax for me love, we don’t want to hurt you,” Sunghoon assured, kissing your right temple as he continued to finger you. It’s playing inside you, knuckles deep as his long fingers kept pumping inside you, curling at a spot that you feel sensitive the most. He’s stretching you, trying his best to prepare you, his fingers continue to scissor your walls at a right pace, reaching deep inside you.

“I want to come,” you mumbled as you could feel it coming inside you. Your hands gave up on stroking his dick, which made Sunghoon slow down his actions.

“You’re going to come with me inside, can you do that?” you quickly nod in his words, kissing his lips as he removed his fingers from you. You didn’t miss the way your pussy ached, but Sunghoon was quick to grab your waist. 

Gently, he lays you down on his bed, and you watch as he reaches for his bedroom’s drawer, pulling the upper box and scavenging something there. 

“Why —”

“Just making sure we’re safe,” Sunghoon told you. 

“Yeah, but why do you have that…” you mindlessly asked, heat rushing towards your cheeks as you stared at Sunghoon. 

“Heeseung gave it to me as a joke —” Sunghoon groans, embarrassed. “But at least we’re safe, right?”

“Right,” you whispered, leaning more against the pillow. 

Sunghoon removes his boxer. Your eyes wandered at his cock again, hard and lengthy, you could only bite your lips as you wondered how it would fit you. Sunghoon eyes on you, like he's ready to devour as he pumps his cock with his right hand while he bites on the foil packet, tearing it open and grabbing the condom, sheathing it on his already sensitive cock. 

Both of you never left each other’s gaze, you lifted your lower body for you to remove your panties, shamelessly spreading your legs in front of him. Your heart started to beat fast, nervousness started to hit you, but you were only assured when Sunghoon planted another kiss on your lips. 

“Take a deep breath for me, okay? I’ll put on the tip first,” he guided you. You only nod at his words, laying back as you try to relax yourself. 

Sunghoon could only bite his lips as he stared at you, legs spread with your glistening pussy on display. You’re his. You’re his to keep. Something about that thought had Sunghoon’s heart racing, unraveling a feeling of having you all by himself. 

Sunghoon kneels in front of you, hands on your thighs as he hovers over you. He grabs his cock, stroking it steadily making him hiss lightly, at the same time, he grazes it on your cunt’s lips, making you moan. 

You took a deep breath as you felt Sunghoon’s dick on your entrance, its girth enough for you to whimper even though it was just a tip. Sunghoon kept on glancing at you, trying to test if you can take it, careful as he pushed his tip inside you, making you let out a soft groan. 

“Fuck Hoon,” you said, feeling your entrance tearing apart. 

“It’s just my tip love,” Sunghoon told you, “we can stop if you want —”

“No, no, I want it,” you let out a sigh. “Please, just go slowly.” 

“You want it all inside?” Sunghoon asked, eyes wide. 

“I want to feel you, Hoon.”

Sunghoon was hesitant, seeing your eyes start to water, he was scared. You noticed the way his expression shifted, quickly pulling him for a short kiss with your eyes firm on him. There, he was assured, a short nod as a signal. 

“Alright, relax for me okay? We’ll take it slow.” 

Sunghoon started slow. Only pushing his tip in and out, so that you can still feel good. Then, he started to insert himself inside you, slow and careful while you could only take hasty breaths, holding it every time you felt yourself getting stretched. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sunghoon whispered. “So small and tight, you really waited for me huh?”

“Hoon —”

“It’s okay baby, I can move if you want me to,” Sunghoon assured. 

You tried to adjust to his size, you’re too full and his dick’s fully sheathed inside you, but it feels good, you wanted more of him. You tried to move, bucking your hips upwards to test the waters, making Sunghoon glance at you. 

“You wanted it baby?” he asked, before spreading your legs wider, wrapping it around his waist as he hovered over you. 

“You can move now Hoon,” you said. 

Sunghoon moved for a bit, carefully checking on you in case you might get hurt. But you quickly nodded, he pulled his dick out of your pussy, eyes surprised as the blood smeared all over the condom. It’s normal. He thought, but it still made him worried. 

“I think I tore you,” he mumbled to you.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Fuck, just put it in Hoon.” 

With that, Sunghoon chuckles darkly. “Impatient already?”

Without a warning, Sunghoon pushes himself inside you, making you heave out a moan. A mouthful of curses leaving his lips as he started to thrust himself inside you. A steady pace that’s not rough enough for you but will leave you crying out of pleasure. He continued doing so, until he fastened his pace, too lost in the pleasure of his cock ramming your walls. Sunghoon could only utterly groan as your pussy continued sucking him in. 

“Only for me —” Sunghoon moans. “So tight for me, there’s my good girl.”

“Hoon —” 

“Want me to go faster? Want to take all of me?”

“Please — ugh, faster please.”

Sunghoon answers your pleas, grabbing your waist, lifting your stomach area, and in a second, he pulls his cock slowly and slams it inside you harshly, making you moan loudly as the pleasure was too much for you. Hands tightly gripping the sheets as your toes started to curl. Only wanton moans and Sunghoon’s names would leave out of your lips, calling his name like a mantra as his dick keeps on abusing your hole, reaching to the deepest part, feeling how his tip rubs a sensitive spot. 

“Hoon, want you —” you called out, stretching your hands which Sunghoon eagerly accepted. Both hands intertwined, placed both either on the sides of your head as Sunghoon continued to thrust inside you. 

Sunghoon locks his lips on you once again. A feverish makeout, making everything hot yet intimate as both your bodies were glued together. Skin to skin, not minding the warm temperature the room exceeds and how sticky both you are with your sweats. All that matters was how he kisses your lips like it’s his last meal on Earth, savoring the taste of it while his cock underneath fastens its pace.

“You’re so beautiful, all mine right?” he growled on your lips, making a short thrust which left you gasping. He can feel it, your pussy tightening, almost wanting for him to not leave, he continues to thrust in such pace as he watches your face distorting in an unreadable expression.

“Come on, say it love,” he commanded, giving you another thrust so hard that you choke under your breath. 

“All y-yours! Fuck —” you cried, everything is too overwhelming for you. But Sunghoon was relaxed as he continued abusing your pussy. 

“So good for me,” Sunghoon kisses your temples. 

You could only close your eyes, too shut that it hurts. Concealing every cry as your legs started to shake, stomach coiling, and unable to control your breathing. 

“Hoon —”

“Gonna come now love?” you heard Sunghoon asked, and your choked moan was the only thing you could say. 

“Let’s come together, hold it for me can you?” Sunghoon fastened his pace, leaving you crying out of pleasure. He can feel everything tightening, his dick twitching indicating that he’s also near. It didn’t help that you’re sucking him hard. Everything just feels good for both of you, but Sunghoon wanted for it not to end. He wanted to linger more, to touch you more until he memorized everything about you. 

“Fuck —” Sunghoon was almost shaking, his grip on your hand tighten as he glances at you one last time, he leans forward sealing you to a kiss so soft that it completely contrasts how the rough thrusts that he gives. 

“Go on, come,” he whispered to you, thrusting sharply that you could only moan as your wave of orgasm came rushing inside you. Your legs shake violently as you let out soft breathing and whimpers. You weren't able to sink in how Sunghoon groaned at the same time as you, his thrust becoming sloppy as he came inside the condom. He thrusted a few times before pulling out, you could only whine because of the loss, not being able to process as Sunghoon lay down beside you. 

Sunghoon quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you a hug which only makes you drowsy. You can feel his skin against you, his warm touch that felt more nothing but a comfort to you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

“It does,” you answered. Now that the high has left you, you can feel your cunt aching due to the sudden penetration. It did feel good but you didn’t expect for it to still ache afterwards. 

“I’ll run a bath for us, don’t sleep on me yet,” he suggested. 

“But I’m sleepy,” you mumbled. “Can we just stay like this?”

“Let’s clean each other first, come on,” he pulled himself away from you, you could only watch as he sat on the bed. Pulling the soiled condom, seeing it all bloodied, Sunghoon’s lips turned into a thin line before tying it and covering it with tissue. He throws it in the trash bin before walking towards his bedroom’s bathroom. 

A few minutes later, he returned to grab you, carrying you bridal style which you didn’t mind, too tired to think about. The bathtub was only halfway full but Sunghoon quickly dips both of you inside. Your back resting against his back as you could only hum, relaxing into the warm water. 

“You okay?” he asked, his arms possessively wrapping around you. 

“I’m tired,” you mumbled. “I want to sleep.”

You hear Sunghoon chuckle, “never thought you'd be the type to get tired after one round.”

“I didn’t know it’ll be this tiring,” you mumbled. “Or maybe I was also tired from packing my things.”

“Which wasn’t necessary,” he kisses your temples. “Because you’re still staying here with me.” 

You only hum at his sentence, closing your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Just rest for me okay? I’ll take care of you.” 

“Alright.” 

“I love you,” Sunghoon stated, a loving kiss planted on your head. 

“I love you too.”

-

Last night felt like a dream. 

You opened your eyes to see yourself in a familiar room. Its silence comforts you in an indescribable way. Seeing how the sunlight sweeps through its curtains, indicates that you’ve slept past your usual wake time — a rare thing for you to happen. You sat up from the bed, noticing that the sheets are different and so are your clothes. A large shirt that almost pooled your thighs along with some boxer shorts in the shades of blue, hitting you immediately with reality. 

Last night felt like a dream but you remember every detail of it vividly. You could only hug your knees as the sudden shame came rushing to you. Cheeks are heating up as you can still feel sore down there. Never expect that everything will lead to you losing your virginity to Sunghoon. 

You can feel your heart beating, you remember every word said last night. The arguments, and promises, the way Sunghoon looked at you — everything. Everything was real yet it felt surreal. That’s when you glance to your left and see it empty. Sunghoon’s not here, and the thought of Sunghoon leaving you shadowed over your mind. 

Quickly, you jumped out of the bed. Light footsteps open the door of his room, and as you skirt outside, you can hear the faint sound of cooking in the kitchen — that’s when you felt relief. 

Slowly, you entered the kitchen to see Sunghoon cooking what you concluded were pancakes. He places the last batch on a plate before turning off the stove, turning around only to be surprised to see you standing there.

Silence devoured both of you. Not knowing what to say at all. After all the fiasco that you two had, some issues that needed to be solved, and of course, last night’s intimacy, everything suddenly felt awkward for both of you. 

“Good morning,” Sunghoon breaks the ice first. “You’re awake now, let’s have some breakfast.”

“I thought you left,” you blurted out, immediately sinking in that you shouldn’t have said that. 

You saw the way Sunghoon's forehead creased, confused. “Left? Why would I leave, I stay here.” 

“You stay here?” you asked. 

Sunghoon only quips a small smile, “I stayed here, waiting for you…hoping that you’ll come home.” 

“Oh.” you only look away, embarrassed at the thought, and yet, a part of you was surprised by what you heard. 

Sunghoon really meant what he said, and the thought that he waited for you to come home instead of going after you — he gave you time to think and waited for you to return, while at the same time, it gave him time to navigate his feelings for you. He’s right. It wasn’t too late for everything. 

Sunghoon places down the plate on the dining table. While you only sat on the chair, watching Sunghoon set up the table for you. He offers the plate for you as he sits beside you. From there, you two sat in silence, eating the perfectly-cooked pancakes. 

Weird. You thought as you took small bites on the food. Everything feels at ease, but you know that there’s still many issues that two have to address. Last night was just a swirl of each other’s emotions, although a proof of each other’s promises, you still don’t know what to do with your situation with Sunghoon. 

“What — what happened last night?” you asked. Sunghoon chokes on his food, startling you. “I mean, during the bath —”

“Oh, you fell asleep halfway, nothing happened after, I slept eventually,” Sunghoon explained.

“Alright,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. As you looked at your unfinished plate, you wondered about the two of you, almost immediately things won’t be easily like the way it was. 

“Hoon,” you whispered, trying to carefully set the atmosphere. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, almost concerned. 

“I just — I don’t know what to do with us,” you confessed, almost bitterly smiling. “All my life, I always knew what to do, I had a clear path of everything, dragging you in it which you obviously didn’t want to. But now that we have different goals, what about us?”

Sunghoon quietly looks at you. His soft expression completely contrasts the worried look on your face. Gently, he brushes the stray hair that covers your face, with his hand on the back of your neck, Sunghoon remains quiet as a smile forms on his face. 

“I’m not leaving you y/n, don’t worry about us. Let’s just support each other alright? I know it’ll be hectic for each of us because we’re going different place, but this place,” Sunghoon’s eyes wandered around the house. “This is going to be our home. We’ll make it a home for us.” 

“What about our engagement? It’s over now,” you asked, worried. 

“Let’s get engaged when we’re ready, okay? Not because our parents set us up, I want our relationship to be genuine and real. I still have to prove my love for you.”

You only chuckle. “You already did.”

“It’s not enough, one night doesn’t change anything.” 

You only nod at his words. “Thank you Sunghoon, for giving me another chance.” 

“I should be the one who’s thankful to you, you never gave up on me even when I treat you badly,” he insisted, making you laugh. 

“It’s my fault too, I shouldn’t have pushed you to my dreams too much.” you rebutted. “But I’m here now, I’ll support you in your dream.” 

“That’s all I need to hear,” Sunghoon stated.

Nodding at his words, Sunghoon pulls you for a hug, his arms instinctively lifting you from your seat, pulling you to his lap to hold you even more tightly. You rest your head on his shoulder as your arms swing around his neck. 

Silence hovered the dining area. You two remained there, never letting go of each other. The tranquility gives you two peace, feeling nothing but each other’s warmth as Sunghoon traces circle around your back, while you rest idly on him. It was comforting and assuring, and your heart swells in joy because your future with Sunghoon was never lost to you. 

-

Epilogue.

As you open the door of your house, you immediately switch the lights on, revealing its comforting silence that only made you smile. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus filled the room, the relaxing scent coming from the air diffuser you and Sunghoon bought a few months ago, automatically reminds you of your lover.

“Hoon, I’m home!” you shouted, removing your sneakers when you heard the door of your shared room (formerly Sunghoon’s room) open. Sunghoon approaches you with a smile, gently cupping your cheeks to seal a kiss. 

“Welcome home,” he greets, making you smile. 

“What’s the occasion? You’re all dressed-up, or have you just got home from your class?” A year wasn’t that long, but a lot of things have changed between you and Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon was given another chance from Decelis to finish his degree in medbio, stating that it’ll be a waste for him to not continue it. Although the two of you knew that the degree is deemed useless, Sunghoon let it be, a deal that he had with his parents for him to continue playing in the band. 

After graduation, you agreed to Sunghoon to take a few months before entering medical school. Although you’re already on board to attend Decelis Medical School, you decided to take time to spend with the people you love because you know how hectic med school will be. 

Arcanum continued performing. After graduation, they became an independent band. Slowly, their popularity is starting to rise. Getting invited to events, university festivals, and of course, they still do their gig in The Rabbit Hole, which became more popular and crowded than ever. You, on the other hand, always manage time to watch their performance along with the other band members’ girlfriends — who you eventually became friends with. 

“I’m taking you out for dinner,” Sunghoon simply replied, grabbing your bag as he scurried his way back to your bedroom, which you only followed. 

“Why? What’s the special occasion?” you asked, laughing. 

“Nothing, just want to take my girl out, is that so bad?” Sunghoon grins, and your gleaming eyes can see how excited he is, like he’s preparing for something.

You only hum, as you proceed to your shared closet. “Alright, let me just freshen up for a bit and change.”

You two arrived at the restaurant not an hour later. The receptionist guided you to your reservation which surprised you because Sunghoon had reserved a private room for the two of you. 

“This is,” you held your breath as you looked at the room. Nostalgia hits you because Sunghoon had brought you to the place where you two were formally engaged by your family. 

“You still remember it?” he asked, smiling. 

“Of course,” you could only mumble. “I was nervous. We were friends who suddenly became fiances at eighteen, it was a sudden turn.” 

“I was nervous too, but I was in relief because my family chose you,” Sunghoon confesses. “Although we went through a rough path, I’m glad we were able to overcome it.” 

You only smiled back at him. “So am I.” 

Food arrived minutes later, along with some white wine of Sunghoon’s choice. The two of you spent the remaining time reminiscing, talking mostly about your childhood days, especially the embarrassing moments that had you two laughing loudly. 

“I have some news for you,” Sunghoon blurted out, completely changing the topic between the two of you. 

“What is it?’ you asked, taking small sips from your glass. 

“Daydream Records called yesterday,” Sunghoon started, his smile grew wider, eyes almost turning into a curve. “They’re interested in having us in their label, it’s a five-year contract and they will manage everything for us — can you believe it!?”

“Oh my god —” words got stuck in your throat. Immediately, you stood up from your seat, approaching Sunghoon who only waited for you to fall into his arms. Pulling you on his lap as you embraced him tightly. “Hoon, oh my god — this is good news! You guys will become famous!” 

“Becoming famous is still far for us, but no more hassle schedules, and Heeseung’s girl doesn’t need to partake in managing us, we’ll have our own manager, our own studio — everything!” Sunghoon excitedly shared, making you smile wider. 

“That’s great love, I’m so, so proud of you and Arcanum,” you only said, leaning on him to give him a deep kiss on the lips which he only reciprocated. 

“We’ll be busy this year, you’re going to attend Decelis in two months, while once we sign our contracts, we’ll be gearing up to release our debut single.” Sunghoon explained. “We might always come home to an empty house now.”

“Are you afraid?” you asked worriedly.

“Of course not, I have faith in both of us, but y/n,” he settles you on the chair in front of him. Hands holding you as he gives you an assuring smile. “We might not see each other from time to time because we’re too busy, but I want to let you know that I will always support you no matter what.”

Before you could say anything, Sunghoon grabs something from his coat’s inner pocket, your eyes widening at the velvet box that he’s holding. 

“Hoon,” you whispered.

“We were tied to be married when we were young, and we promised that we’ll only get married when we’re ready, and though one year has passed and a lot of things have changed, we still have a long way to go, for us.” Sunghoon stated.

You remained quiet, only staring at him who gently cups your face. 

“I want you to think of me whenever you see this ring,” he said as he proceeded to open the box. Your eyes widened at the pair of rings — both have subtle engraved diamonds, with the other one thinner with a much more intricate design. 

“And I’ll think of you whenever I see the ring too,” Sunghoon added. “It’s a promise ring. A promise for us that we’ll be with each other no matter what. It’ll be our strength especially during hard times.”

Tears started flowing from your eyes, out of happiness, you let out a choked laugh as you wiped your tears away — bumping into Sunghoon's hands who faltered a laugh as he gently wiped the tears away. 

“Hoon, I don’t know what to say…I love it — gosh, I love you so, so much, you don’t know how happy this makes me,” you could only say, almost stumbling to your words.

Sunghoon didn’t say a word. He removes the ring and gently puts it in your ring finger, fitting perfectly like it was meant for you. You copied his action, grabbing the other band and placing it in his ring finger. 

“Promise me that you’ll be there for me,” Sunghoon stated. 

“Of course, I’ll be there for you, just like you’ll be with me,” you only smiled. “Forever.” 

Sunghoon grabs your cheeks once again, planting a kiss on your lips which you delicately replied, sealing the promise you two have. Breaking the kiss, Sunghoon only stared at you, eyes brightening as his smile became wider. 

“Forever.” 

[genericpuff]

Tbh at this point you should just make your own webcomic app/website because it would probably be 100 times better than whatever going on with webtoon right now.

hahaha it wouldn't tho, sorry 💀

Here's the fundamental issue with webcomic platforms that a lot of people just don't realize (and why they're so difficult to run successfully):

Storage costs are incredibly expensive, it's why so many sites have limitations on file sizes / page sizes / etc. because all of those images and site info have to be stored somewhere, which costs $$$.

Maintenance costs are expensive and get more so as you grow, you need people who are capable of fixing bugs ASAP and managing the servers and site itself

Financially speaking, webcomics are in a state of high supply, low demand. Loads of artists are willing to create their passion projects, but getting people to read them and pay for them is a whole other issue. Demand is high in the general sense that once people get attached to a webtoon they'll demand more, but many people aren't actually willing to go looking for new stuff to read and depend more on what sites feed them (and what they already like). There are a lot of comics to go around and thus a lot of competition with a limited audience of people willing to actually pay for them.

Trying to build a new platform from the ground up is incredibly difficult and a majority of sites fail within their first year. Not only do you have to convince artists to take a chance on your platform, you have to convince readers to come. Readers won't come if there isn't work on the platform to read, but artists won't come if they don't think the site will be worth it due to low traffic numbers. This is why the artists with large followings who are willing to take chances on the smaller sites are crucial, but that's only if you can convince them to use the site in favor of (or alongside) whatever platform they're using already where the majority of their audience lies. For many creators it's just not worth the time, energy, or risk.

Even if you find short-term success, in the long-term there are always going to be profit margins to maintain. The more users you pull in, the more storage is used by incoming artists, the more you have to spend on storage and server maintenance costs, and that means either taking the risk at crowdfunding (ex. ComicFury) or having to resort to outsider investments (ex. Tapas). Look at SmackJeeves, it used to be a titan in the independent webcomic hosting community, until it folded over to a buyout by NHN and then was pretty much immediately shuttered due to NHN basically turning it into a manwha scanlation site and driving away its entire userbase. And if you don't get bought out and try your hand at crowdfunding, you may just wind up living on a lifeline that could cut out at any moment, like what happened to Inkblazers (fun fact, the death of Inkblazers was what kicked off the cultural shift in Tapas around 2015-16 when all of IB's users migrated over and brought their work with them which was more aimed towards the BL and romancee drama community, rather than the comedy / gag-a-day culture that Tapas had made itself known for... now you deadass can't tell Tapas apart from a lot of scanlation sites because it got bought out by Kakao and kept putting all of its eggs into the isekai/romance drama basket.)

Right now the mindset in which artists and readers are operating is that they're trying way, way too hard to find a "one size fits all" site. Readers want a place where they can find all their favorite webtoons without much effort, artists wants a place where they can post to an audience of thousands, and both sides want a community that will feel tight-knit. But the reality is that you can't really have all three of those things, not on one site. Something always winds up having to be sacrificed - if a site grows big enough, it'll have to start seeking more funding while also cutting costs which will result in features becoming paywall'd, intrusive ads, creators losing their freedom, and/or outsider support which often results in the platform losing its core identity and alienating its tight-knit community.

If I had to describe what I'm talking about in a "pick one" graphic, it would look something like this:

(*note: this is mostly based on my own observations from using all of these sites at some point or another, they're not necessarily entirely accurate to the statistical performance of each site, I can only glean so much from experience and traffic trackers LMAO that said I did ask some comic pals for input and they were very helpful in helping me adjust it with their own takes <3).

The homogenization of the Internet has really whipped people into submission for the "big sites" that offer "everything", but that's never been the Internet, it relies on being multi-faceted and offering different spaces for different purposes. And we're seeing that ideology falter through the enshittification of sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. where users are at odds with the platforms because the platforms are gutting features in an attempt to satisfy shareholders whom without the platforms would not exist. Like, most of us aren't paying money to use social media sites / comic platform sites, so where else are they gonna make the necessary funds to keep these sites running? Selling ad space and locking features behind paywalls.

And this is especially true for a lot of budding sites that don't have the audience to support them via crowdfunding but also don't have the leverage to ask for investments - so unless they get really REALLY lucky in EITHER of those departments, they're gonna be operating at a loss, and even once they do achieve either of those things there are gonna be issues in the site's longevity, whether it be dying from lack of growing crowdfunding support or dying from shareholder meddling.

So what can we do?

We can learn how to take our independence back. We don't have to stop using these big platforms altogether as they do have things to offer in their own way, particularly their large audience sizes and dipping into other demographics that might not be reachable from certain sites - but we gotta learn that no single site is going to satisfy every wish we have and we have to be willing to learn the skills necessary to running our own spaces again. Pick up HTML/CSS, get to know other people who know HTML/CSS if you can't grasp it (it's me, I can't grasp it LOL), be willing to take a chance on those "smaller sites" and don't write them off entirely as spaces that can be beneficial to you just because they don't have large numbers or because they don't offer rewards programs. And if you have a really polished piece of work in your hands, look into agencies and publishing houses that specialize in indie comics / graphic novels, don't settle for the first Originals contract that gets sent your way.

For the last decade corporations have been convincing us that our worth is tied to the eyes we can bring to them. Instead of serving ourselves, we've begun serving the big guys, insisting that it has to be worth something eventually and that it'll "payoff" simply by the virtue of gambler's fallacy. Ask yourself what site is right for you and your work rather than asking yourself if your work is good enough for them. Most of us are broke trying to make it work on these sites anyways, may as well be broke and fulfilled by posting in places that actually suit us and our work if we can. Don't define your success by what sites like Webtoons are enforcing - that definition only benefits them, not you.

[torglives]

to say my piece: firstly, fuck iskall.

secondly, its very easy to tell by the outpouring of hate comments on many of the hermits' recent videos (after his response) that he reached a target of young, impressionable fans. not only that, but also a darker side of the hermitcraft fandom that i like to ignore.

as much as i love hermitcraft, its "golden" status that its gotten from remaining "unpolitical" and "drama-free" has perpetuated a very ugly-hearted group of fans who cant find solace in the more openly left-wing smp communities. so they turn to hermitcraft, where they can hide a little more easily. and this has been a group of people slowly cultivating numbers for years now, and there's enough of them that docm77's gay beacon, or the number of pride mcc participants (and queer hermits) can't ward off.

these people have always been the ones brushing concerns in the community under the rug, the "this isn't the place for politics," and "i watch hermitcraft to get AWAY from that stuff." types. they are never going to believe the women that were harassed over the male creator they've latched onto as someone who's "for them" and "un-cancelable." these people have been waiting for this opportunity. and you'll see them say "hermitcraft is over," and "they can't come back from this," but none of that is true. they're the only ones who believe that.

and as awful as all of this is, the hate and the VERY thinly veiled misogyny-- there is a bright-side in weeding those people out. "i don't think i'll be able to watch hermitcraft after this" good fucking riddance.

iskall knew what he was doing by bringing his shit response video to his youtube audience. instead of the reddit, instead of twitter, but to a space that HE moderates. the space with the highest concentration of people who he know will defend him.

my only hope is that the hermits double down on this, and that they have the backbone to make it clear that these people are not welcome in the community. and neither is iskall. and that the larger chunk of us continue to support the victims, and uplift what they have to say. i can't imagine how this must feel for them.

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ CHAPTER ONE: SHUT UP AND KISS ME

violet; 4,711 words; fluff, enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, wlw, the gays can't communicate, college parties, toxic ex!cait, impulsive!reader, drama as all living fuck, no "y/n"

summary: in which you decide to go to yet another party vi's going to be at. consequences ensue.

a/n: i know its late but its still the 30th in cali!!! enjoy the ENEMIES part of enemies to lovers!!!! <3

< table of contents

─── Ⅵ IT TURNS OUT THAT Vi does, in fact, remember you. And, it also seems like she’s the type to hold a grudge.

Because three days later, when you’re running through a few off-ice warmups while the hockey team finishes up their morning practice, you distinctly hear her challenging one of her teammates to a race even as everyone else is clearing off the ice.

You groan, dropping back onto the bench and frowning as you start to lace up your skates.

“Great, now I’ve gotta skate on fucked up ice before the mid-day zamboni — really fucking great —”

“Got something you wanna say to my face, princess?”

Your eyes jerk up, and there’s Vi, standing not even a foot from you, her helmet tucked under one arm, her stick in the other, her hair a sweat-slicked mess that somehow still looks infuriatingly attractive. You narrow your eyes.

“Nope. Just… talking to myself.”

“I… don’t think so, sweetcheeks,” she says, taking a few steps forward even as you stand up. Like this, your eyes are barely level, your own skates giving you a solid few inches, but she still manages to look down at you as a smirk twists her lips.

You puff out a breath, feeling a wild thumping curling up your throat as you stare up at her, your fingertips going cold even as heat rushes into your cheeks.

“Fine,” you say, “you’re really that curious?”

Vi shrugs, “I mean, you seem to like dolling out unsolicited opinions so,” she pins you with a harsh look, “What’s another one to add to the collection, huh?”

You stiffen, and for a second, something breaks in Vi’s expression before it melds back into one of caustic curiosity. She looks like a beartrap sprung on a hair-pin trigger, her jaw clenched, her eyes hard.

“Huh, never thought you’d be such a glutton for punishment,” you say, the words dripping from you, slow as poison, and somewhere in the back of your mind, your fight or flight response is telling you that this is a bad, bad idea, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from taking half a step closer, even though Vi’s probably twice your size and can bench three times your body weight — “But then again, you did stay in a relationship with an emotionally manipulative bitch who swapped you out the second she could get her hands on someone better —”

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything —!”

“Hey, hey!” A pair of large hands yanks Vi back just as she’s about to lunge towards you; another thinner pair of arms loops through yours, tugging you back a few steps.

“You stay the fuck out of this, Jayce!”

“Darling, what on earth is going on?” you turn to find Mel, her cheeks dusted in gold, her hands firm on your arms, as Jayce forcibly wrangles Vi back.

You swallow around the vitriol threatening your lips and shake your head, turning away from Vi.

“Nothing, just… I was annoyed that the hockey team always fucks up the ice after their practices —”

“Oh, you think we fuck up the ice?” Vi’s voice cracks like a gunshot in the vast rink, and several of the other girls from the hockey team have come jogging back, placing their hands on Vi’s shoulders to keep her from steamrollering into you. “You know how much precious practice time we’ve wasted filling up those massive holes you guys leave with your stupid little toe-pick jumps?”

You roll your eyes, anger flaring hot and high in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh, so sorry, didn’t know you guys could still see with the sustained brain damage you all must have from slamming into each other all the time.”

“Fuck you.”

You scoff, twisting back with a viperous smirk.

“In your wildest dreams, six.”

Vi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh… didn’t know you knew my number, princess.”

“It’s written on your face — or have all your previous hookups been so stupid they can’t even read —”

“And what kind of tomfoolery is this?”

Everyone freezes at the sound of Amara’s voice. You bite down on your lips and take a step back as the small, gray-haired woman strides through, her hands behind her back, her chin held high.

“Sorry, Amara — it’s nothing,” Jayce says, jerking Vi behind him as she tries to open her mouth to speak.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Amara says, her words smooth as a river in spring thaw, and nearly just as frigid.

Guilt creeps up your spine as she scans over the hockey team with marked distaste.

“Perhaps I ought to let Vander know that his girls are once again causing a —”

“Don’t, Amara. It was — it was my fault.” You shake off Mel’s hands and slot yourself between Jayce and Amara, ignoring the the disbelieving snort from Vi.

Amara’s eyes land on you, and for a second, they soften. Still, she tilts her head, eyes sharp as a hawks as you twist your fingers behind your back.

“Your fault, darling?”

You nod, “Yeah, I — I was annoyed that they were carving up the ice, so I — I picked a fight —”

Amara sighs, “Yes… well, I can’t blame you, but you know it’s not good rink etiquette.”

“I know,” you say, hanging your head.

Amara tuts, “As long as you know,” she reaches up to pat your cheek before marching off towards the rink-side boxes to set up the music. Behind you, Jayce releases Vi’s arms with a sigh.

“Martyr,” Vi coughs as she shoulders passed you, flanked by a few of the hockey girls, casting dirty looks over their shoulders before disappearing into the locker rooms.

You close your eyes, take three deep breaths, and then step onto the ice.

“It was an ass thing to say.”

“As long as you know —”

“But I feel like she took it way too seriously, y’know?”

Jayce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slumps down into the booth in the dining commons, shoving half an entire banana into his mouth as he pins you with a look.

“Or maybe, you can just apologize —”

You crinkle your nose, prodding at your yogurt bowl, toying with a spoonful of blueberry flavored granola.

“Can’t you just… like tell her I’m sorry or something?” you ask, pushing out your bottom lip in a signature pout. Jayce only swallows the rest of the banana before digging into a truly dauntingly sized ham and cheese sandwich.

“’m not doing your dirty work for you,” he says, his expression lighting up as Mel slides gracefully into the booth next to you, pressing a napkin into her lap.

“And what’s this about dirty work?” she asks, a teasing grin on her lips.

You sigh, “I’m asking very nicely —”

Jayce holds up a hand, “No, you’re trying to get me to apologize to Vi for you — which basically defeats the whole point of an apology.”

“No! It’s because I know you guys are like… platonic gym soulmates or — whatever —” you wave your hands through the air even as Mel laughs into her salad.

Jayce huffs, “Or,” he catches Mel’s eye, and you feel a distinct spate of unease work it’s way down your spine at the way Mel’s lips split into a devious grin.

“Or?” you prompt, setting down your spoon and sitting back, looking between the pair of them with mounting apprehension.

Mel gently places a hand on your arm, “You could just apologize to her yourself —”

“At the party this Saturday —”

“No — no way —” you put up both hands, “the last time I went to a party with you guys —”

“You got to make out with the hottest girl on the entire hockey team,” Mel soothes.

You bite your lips, eyes cutting down to your lap. You hadn’t told her. You hadn’t told anyone. So far as she and Jayce knew, the only slight against Vi you’d made is calling her ex a ‘manipulative bitch’, which — well.

“Right, and now she hates me.”

Mel sniffs, “You can’t be that bad at kissing. I refuse to believe it.”

Jayce snickers; Mel shoots him a glare. He reaches for the bag of free chips and pops it open with one hand.

“C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? You offer her another kiss to make up for your little tantrum the other day?” Mel asks, flicking a thin, gold-laced braid over her shoulder.

You groan, sinking into your seat as you fold your arms over your chest, weighing the options.

You did feel bad for what you’d said. But you also tried to shield her from what you’re sure would’ve been much worse than what she’d gotten given Amara’s track record of tattling to Vander.

And then, unbidden, comes the memory of Vi’s sultry grin as she’d pinned you against the frat house door, her mouth inches from yours, the solid muscles of her torso pushing against yours as she’d leaned in and —

“— at a sorority house, so the space’ll be much nicer,” Mel promises, turning towards you again, her eyes expectant.

You blink, your mind catching up to her words a second later as you sigh.

“I — sure, fine — but I can’t stay too long. I’ve got Skate America in two weeks —”

Jayce ruffles your hair, “Yeah, so do we.”

You shove his massive arm off you with a half-hearted glare, “Yeah, but I’m not made like you guys. I can’t just literally skate into a podium. I actually have to practice.”

“Oh don’t get all shy now, little miss triple axel.”

“I’ve only landed it twice in practice, and I’m pretty sure one of them was underrotated —”

Mel shakes her head, “And there she goes again —”

“Always so humble —” Jayce adds.

You groan and bury your face in your arms, “Will you leave me alone?”

Mel laughs, “We will if you come to the party on Saturday,” she sing-songs, nudging you with her elbow.

Jayce slings an arm around your shoulders, shaking you slightly.

“And Vi’s for sure going.”

You peak up at him, “How… do you know?”

Jayce smirks, “Cause. Her ex is gonna be there.

You blink.

“Oh.”

Mel pillows her cheek on her palm, tapping her perfectly manicured nails along the table, a Cheshire-grin spread across her lips like warm butter.

“With her new girlfriend.”

You whip around towards her.

“Oh.”

This was a terrible idea, you think, as you step into the sorority house, tugging on the edge of your dress, the hem of which barely skims your mid-thigh, the modest, high-necked front contrasted with the plunging back line that settles in a graceful slope of material just above the curve of your ass.

“Quit fidgeting,” Mel says, slapping at your hand as you try once again to readjust the bottom of the dress.

“I can’t — I feel like I’m gonna flash the world — and it’s a tossup if it’s the front of the back!” you hiss, jerking the hemline of the dress down as it slowly starts to ride up your thigh again.

Mel tuts, “Please, as if this is anywhere near as short as the performance outfits that we have to wear —”

“That’s different!” you insist, reaching out to grab two cups of something and shoving one at Mel, “We’ve got tights on under those!”

Mel rolls her eyes, sniffing at the drink before making a face and dropping it off on a random surface. You take an absent sip of your own drink, gagging immediately at the taste.

“Eugh, oh god what do they put in those?” you ask, dropping your own solo cup on a table as Mel drags you through the shifting crowd.

The party’s already going in full swing, but she’d been right, the space is nicer — wider and less cramped, the ceilings high and the music less abrasive.

“Where’re we going?” you ask, even as Mel guides you towards the heart of the party and somehow manages to conjure up two glasses of what looks like champagne, handing one to you, and taking a sip of the other one herself.

“Finding Vi,” she says, to which you balk, shaking your head.

“Mel!”

She turns with an exasperated sigh, “What?”

“C-can’t we just —” you motion towards the party, “try to have a good time? I mean — maybe she’s not here — maybe she wanted to have a quiet night in —”

“Speak of the devil —” Mel’s face breaks into a grin as she spots someone over your shoulder and you whip around to see —

Caitlyn Kiramman, the veritable goddess of track and field, all dark hair and endless long legs, standing there with her new girlfriend Maddie Nolen, a cute, if slightly awkward girl, with strawberry blond hair cropped in a truly abominable bob-cut.

The room seems to part for them, Caitlyn tugging Maddie forward with their fingers laced, looking not so unlike the Queen of England, followed by her loyal procession of ginger-backed corgis.

You take a few steps back, watching them with raised brows, wondering what on earth Caitlyn might’ve seen in Maddie, given that she’d had Vi seemingly wrapped around her pinky finger just months before.

But then, you see Vi — her expression caught somewhere between hurt and barely scraped together bravado, her fists at her sides as Caitlyn also spots her, approaching with Maddie half a step behind.

“Fancy seeing you here, Violet,” Caitlyn says, her voice carrying over the crowd even as everyone tries to avert their gaze or pretend like they aren’t listening in.

Vi puffs out her chest, “Sure, yeah. Super fancy. What, d’you think I’d be banned from the sorority house or something?”

Caitlyn shrugs, “Something like that.”

Vi narrows her eyes, her knuckles going white, “Sorry cupcake, ‘fraid not even you can keep me from havin’ a good time.”

“So I see,” Caitlyn says. Maddie peers around her shoulder with wide eyes and a shy smile.

“Name’s Maddie, it’s nice to meet —”

“See you’ve already replaced me,” Vi says, folding her arms over her chest, her biceps bulging, the vein in her jaw ticking dangerously as she looks Maddie over.

Caitlyn smirks, “See you haven’t.”

Vi seems to deflate slightly at that, her arms coming loose, “Actually I —”

You find yourself moving before you can stop yourself, pushing through the gathering crowd till you can throw your arms around Vi’s neck, bowling into her with a simpering squeal of —

“Vi! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Vi’s expression morphs from one of shock to a momentary flash of suspicion as you meet her eyes and bat your lashes in what you hope is an inconspicuous way before turning towards Caitlyn and Maddie, a 100-watt smile hitched over your lips.

“Oh! And who’s this?”

Caitlyn narrows her eyes, looking you over with an imperialistic eye.

“Caitlyn — Kiramman… pleasure.”

“Oh wow! You’re the — the girl who’s really good at hurdles, right?” you say, even as Vi stifles a laugh at your side, her hand settling around your waist.

Caitlyn’s eyes harden as her lips thin into a pale line. Anyone who knows her would know that hurdles are her worst discipline, and that she’d dropped nearly every single one on her last major competition.

“And I’m Maddie… Nolen. So you must be —” Maddie reaches out, but not before Caitlyn takes your hand instead.

“The Ice Princess — our very own Olympic hopeful. Best of luck to you in the Grand Prix series this year. I heard you had something of a nasty fall early in your season last time… you oughtta be more careful this time around,” Caitlyn says, looking you up and down, even as you smile up at her, blissfully sweet and unbothered. Your cheeks are starting to hurt.

“Oh, don’t worry,” you flap your hand, crinkling your nose as you lean forward, using the motion to reach down and give Vi’s hand a soft squeeze, your eyes pinned on Caitlyn’s as you say —

“I never make the same mistake twice.”

And before she has the chance to respond, her jaw dropping open, you turn towards Vi with a bright grin, placing a palm against her chest, leaning right into her space.

“C’mon, let’s go get a drink, hm?”

“Y-yeah, princess — sure —”

You tug her away before the facade crumbles entirely, the pair of you dodging around curious eyes till you end up in the thankfully empty kitchen. Her hand pulls from yours the second you close the door behind you.

“What the hell —”

You hold up both your hands, falling back three steps to put some distance between you and her.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? It — it just looked like…” you shrug, casting your eyes around the kitchen even as Vi huffs, folding her arms across her chest to lean back against the door, “It looked like you could use a hand, that’s all.”

“I didn’t need anyone to rescue me,” she snipes, her voice hardening around the edges.

You nod, “Yeah, I know. But…”

“But what?”

You swallow, turning your back to Vi as you pace around the large, marble-tiled kitchen, “I — I felt bad for — for what I said last time… so…”

You turn around just in time to catch Vi’s incredulous expression, seconds before she breaks into a sharp bark of laughter.

“Wow, my hero — my very own white-knight. Really, who needs Prince Charming when you’ve got —”

“Okay! I get it — you didn’t need saving — holy shit you don’t have to rub it in.”

You sigh, leaning up against the kitchen island, glaring down at a half-empty bottle of vodka sitting in the sink before reaching out to grab it and rummaging around for two empty shot glasses.

Vi watches you with an amused grin twitching at her lips.

Finally, you manage to find a few shot glasses tucked into the far corner of a cupboard. You stand on your tiptoes, but your fingers don’t quite reach. And a second later, a body presses solid and warm to your back as Vi’s hand reaches in to pull two of the glasses out, placing them squarely on the counter.

She shoots you a lopsided grin as you watch her expertly pull two shots from the vodka bottle and slide one towards you.

“Mazel,” she smirks, tossing it back and smacking her lips.

You eye your own shot for a second longer before squeezing your eyes shut and tossing it back as well, immediately coughing, fighting to keep your gag reflex from taking over, pressing the back of your hand to your lips.

Vi’s laughter is loud, but not unkind as she reaches out to tug the shot glass from you, setting everything back into the sink.

“So. You’re felt bad, did you?”

You groan, dropping your head into your arms.

“I mean — yeah — it was —” you take a deep breath, bracing your palms against the kitchen island, eyes fixed on where your fingertips are slowly going white, “It was a shitty thing to say.”

“Mm. Which one? Mentioning my breakup right before I was about to kiss you? Or calling my ex a manipulative bitch?”

You wince, chewing on the inside of your cheek, though when you look up, it’s to find Vi smiling.

“Either? Both? Ugh… alcohol makes me —” you gesture at your head, wiggling your fingers as Vi watches, her smile sliding from amused into indulgent, “misplace the brain-mouth barrier a bit.”

“Yeah? And uh… do you skate drunk a lot? Or was that little exposition special just for me?”

You swallow, feeling the heat of the vodka creeping back up your throat as your cheeks prickle.

“That was…” you trail off, crinkling your nose as you cast about for a plausible response, but coming up empty, you sag against the kitchen counter, throwing up your hands, “I just — I’m not the best with impulsivity, okay?”

Vi chuckles, nodding, “So… I can see — I mean, even without the shouting match at the rink, that stunt you pulled back there with Cait —” she lets out a low whistle, shaking her head, “Gotta say, princess, I’m impressed. Pretending to be my new girlfriend in front of her new girlfriend? That’s… that’s ballsy.”

You let out another groan, sliding down the side of the kitchen island to sit on the floor, pulling your knees into your chest and glaring half-heartedly at the bottom of the fridge. A second later, Vi flops down to join you, an arm propped on her knee, her eyes caught on the shape of you, your pouty lips and the slope of your nose.

“Seriously though, when you made that hurdles comment — I almost lost it —”

You break into a bright peal of laughter, head thumping back against the cupboards as Vi allows herself a chuckle.

“Yes, yes — I’m kind of bitch. Point made,” you say, casting her a sidelong glance.

She shrugs, “Then I guess I’ve got a type, so…”

You bite down on your bottom lip, mulling over her words.

“So?” you ask.

She sighs, “So. What’s next?”

You frown, “Next?”

She fixes you with an incredulous look, “Yeah. Like — what comes after you so gallantly rescuing me from my oh-so-wicked ex by announcing that we’re dating in front of half our graduating class?”

You open your mouth, gaping at her.

A second passes. Then another.

Vi stares. Then, she bangs her head so loudly against the cupboards behind you you almost jump out of your skin.

“Come on! Are you kidding?! You’re telling me you did all this without any kind of plan?” She pushes to her feet seconds before you scramble up onto yours, frowning defensively in her direction.

“I told you! I’m — I’ve got an impulse problem and impulsivity doesn’t exactly lend itself to perfect foreplaning —”

But the pair of you break off as the unmistakable sounds of voices echoes down the hallway leading towards the kitchen. And in particular one voice — low and pitched and accented.

“Fuck —” Vi swears, looking suddenly stunned, her eyes wide, her whole body going rigid, “We’ve — we’ve gotta hide or something —”

You blink at her for a brief second before huffing out a breath and reaching up to jerk her down towards you. She barely catches herself against the counter, her hands braced on either side of your hips as you hiss against her lips —

“Oh c’mon — don’t be stupid —”

“What the hell are you —”

“Just shut up and kiss me —”

The door swings open behind you and laughter pours in, though it abruptly cuts off as Caitlyn freezes in the doorway, Maddie nearly smashing into her, and Mel behind her as everyone else jostles to try and see what the hold up is.

“Oh… whoops,” Maddie says, letting out an embarrassed chuckle as she tries to turn away from the sight of Vi and you caught in the throes of what looks like an intense make out session, Vi’s fingers digging divots into the skin of your hips, your fingers curling in her hair.

You let out a tiny whimper as Vi hoists you up onto the kitchen island, slotting herself between your legs, even as Caitlyn makes an affronted noise behind you, folding her arms.

“I see this room’s taken,” she says, voice flat and dangerous.

But Vi’s only response is to trail a hand up to your jaw, cupping it in her palm so she can slot her lips more comfortably against yours, letting out a satisfied hum at the way you soften into her as she sinks her teeth into you bottom lip.

Caitlyn scoffs, rolling her eyes even as Maddie tugs her back down the hallway. Everyone else jostles back into the main room as well, giggling and gossiping about this exciting new development.

Mel, though, clears her throat as she and Jayce share a look before closing the kitchen door behind them.

“Right, that’s enough you two —” she says, to very little avail.

Because somewhere between one breath and the next, you’d lost yourself to the feeling of Vi’s lips on yours, the heady, pulsing friction of her body as she cradles you against her, the way you can still taste the remnants of that vodka shot on her tongue as she licks into your mouth.

Faintly, you wonder if this might’ve turned out differently if you’d just kept quiet on that first night and let her kiss you in that dirty frat room.

But the thought is quickly dashed by a deep groan thrumming from Vi’s chest to yours as you lean back into the kiss, running your thumb down along her neck, pressing into the fluttering pulse point just below her jaw.

A whine curls up your throat as Vi’s fingers work beneath the hem of your little black dress, teasing at the skin of your thigh.

“Hey! Earth to horny lesbians!”

You pull back with a gasp, and Vi resurfaces as well, the both of you panting, your lips separating with a sound not unlike a plunger being released from a recently blocked sink. You feel your head spin, the room pressing in around you before expanding back out, even as Vi drags the back of her hand across her mouth, stumbling back a few steps.

“W-what?”

Jayce lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Really? That’s what got you?”

Mel sighs, rolling her eyes, “I think it’s time you explain yourselves.”

You lick your lips, hopping off the kitchen island even as Vi runs a hand over her face, her eyes strangely fractured, her cheeks dusted high with color.

“Well you were the one that said I should offer her another kiss to make up for — Vi? Where are you going?”

But Vi’s already making for the door, her shoulders hunched, her fists clenched at her sides. You take a few steps towards her but stop dead as she runs a hand through her hair.

“Sorry — I — I gotta go —” her voice is hoarse, and the look on her face when she glances over her shoulders at you — that more than anything convinces you to let her go.

You like to think that you’d seen experienced a good number of human emotions on the broad spectrum. Skating forces you to tap into a lot of them — anger, excitement, joy, sorrow, jealousy, vindication, passion.

But you’d never seen someone look so utterly broken.

“Wait, Vi —” Jayce tries to stop her but Mel places a hand on his arm, and Vi brushes passed them both, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway beyond without another word.

You sag against the kitchen island as both Mel and Jayce turn their eyes back onto you.

“Right.” Mel rounds on you even as you shrink back against the fridge, chewing on your lips.

Jayce groans, looking between you and Mel before marching over to the table and pulling up a few chairs.

“Everyone sit. If we’re gonna talk about this, we might as well be comfortable.”

You eye the chairs for a few seconds before sliding over and dropping into one of them.

Mel perches on the edge of another as Jayce leans himself against the dining table, arms folded loosely across his chest.

“So?” Mel prods.

You take a deep breath.

“So… at that frat party… when me and Vi were… supposed to kiss? Yeah, well… we… kinda, sorta… didn’t.”

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