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luvdsc · 14 days ago

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barbie girl.

if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then it’s so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really should’ve googled about the new plastics economy.

or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that he’s (not) all that.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, fluff, angst ⋮ makeover + college au word count :: 24,618 words warnings :: body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, [spoiler] did something bad, people being literal scum, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” playlist :: pretty boys (romi) ⋆ you can’t sit with us (sunmi) ⋆ i just wanna know (katherine li) ⋆ lie to girls (sabrina carpenter) ⋆ look what you made me do (taylor swift) ⋆ leftover feelings (regina song) ⋆ number one girl (rosé) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: she’s all that is one of my most favorite rom coms ever, but i’ve always been ///: at the whole makeover idea and decided to write my own version !! the idols mentioned in this fic are just characters, and how i portray them in this fic do not reflect how i actually view them or their irl personas. as always, much love to miss lana and miss moon for being my biggest cheerleaders ᥫ᭡ ↳ part of the 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 collaboration series.

i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

Good looking, charismatic, and popular — it’s his world, and you’re just living in it. Or something like that. You’re decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes in Seventeen magazine that you used to be obsessed with when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, you’d probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.

By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door of your shared accounting classroom during your fall semester, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. And he probably already spent even more time selecting the final photo to edit before you arrived to class and noticed him. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting.

Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

You suddenly remember that there was that one small group presentation in that very same aforementioned accounting class, and you were assigned to the same group as Jaemin. Armed with this rediscovered memory, you are going to revise your earlier response and say that the correct descriptor for your relationship is perpendicular lines. That sounds right. Final answer. You’re locking it in.

Your paths should have only intersected once, the two of you should be going in different directions, and even though you’re in another class with him again for spring semester this year (since all freshmen with a business major has to take the same Gen. Ed. classes), not once have the two of you had a proper conversation with each other (He asked you to pass a note one time, but that barely counts). Jaemin should have forgotten you by now, and you should be continuing on with your side character life that you’re very much content with.

So then why on earth is he shouting your name like you’re old friends and causing what feels like every person within a one mile radius to stare at you?

He’s unknowingly giving you your main character moment, and you very quickly realize that you do not feel like the Y/N in any one of those Gojo fanfics you read religiously at three in the morning when you should really be studying or sleeping.

Instead, you feel like a bug watching its impending doom as a Doc Marten boot starts to descend at an alarming speed and you can’t even try to scuttle out of the way to avoid it. Frozen in your spot, you can only watch as your university’s it boy skids to a stop in front of you after running across the grass and flashing you his million dollar smile. “Hey, Y/N, right? We have ECON 13 together.”

Starstruck, your mind to mouth filter is completely shot, and all you manage to let out is a very uncool “Uh huh.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, and you feel like all the oxygen has been knocked out of your lungs, too. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Jaemin tilts his head to the side slightly, the sunlight catching his profile perfectly, and your breath hitches in your throat once more.

“I know this is gonna sound really, uh, forward since we barely know each other and all, but—”

You’re barely listening to him, your heart pounding in your chest and the blood rushing to your ears. It’s pretty embarrassing to see how a mere stranger with a pretty face can affect you this much. You really thought you had a much stronger willpower than this, but it’s so goddamn unfair how this boy standing in front of you has the most perfectly sculpted face you’ve ever seen. Plus, his eyelashes? Why the hell do boys always get the prettiest, thickest, and darkest lashes?

Meanwhile, you’re out here struggling to force your perpetually straight, stubby lashes into a curl that ends up lasting only a couple hours, even when you use waterproof mascara. You still end up with flat lashes and you have to feverishly scrub your eyes to remove the blasted makeup and lose a few cherished lashes in the process.

“—with me?” Jaemin finishes, and you belatedly realize that you did not catch a single word that he said, too caught up in your inner monologue and too busy ogling. However, your heart flutters in your chest when you catch the last part of his question. Not to be too presumptuous, but it sounds like he’s asking you out. Why else would anyone randomly stop you like this and talk to you for this long? You’re positively giddy at this revelation. This is your moment, the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life, like Rapunzel waiting in her tower for the one to come and save her from her horribly mundane, repetitive life.

“Oh! Um… yes?” It’s a 50/50 chance between yes or no, and you hope that’s the correct answer he’s looking for.

Jaemin’s face immediately brightens, and he turns his smile up another kilowatt, nearly blinding you. You grin back at him, squinting a little. This must be how Icarus felt when he flew towards the sun.

“Oh shit, really? You’re really agreeing to tutor me? Hyuck—you know, our class’s peer TA—said I was a hopeless cause, and I would need way more one on one lessons outside of his hours and all that if I wanted to pass. And yeah, I know I could probably bitch at him until he caves since we’re kind of friends, but he would also hold this over my head, but he said you had the highest score on last week’s practice midterm, so I thought, ‘hey, why not shoot my shot?’” He directs another smile your way, pausing for a quick breath. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and his smile isn’t helping whatsoever as your heart decides to join in this race as well until it sinks when you finally process his words.

“Wait, Donghyuck said that about me?” you manage to get out, a little dazed, and Jaemin confirms before eagerly continuing on with his chatter, but all you can do is stupidly nod as the word “TUTOR” spins around and around in your mind in bold, italicized, underlined mocking red letters in Times New Roman font, size 12, double spaced, MLA format, the whole shebang.

Of course, he only wants a tutor. What made you think that a boy like him would look twice at a girl like you? The only other time a guy has ever expressed interest in you is to share homework answers for Calculus back in 10th grade (For the record, all of his answers were completely wrong, but Sungchan was a cute distraction. Actually, the two of you became very good friends once you very quickly got over the fact that you were firmly placed in the friendzone. He’s even dating one of your best friends now).

“Anyways, can I have your number? I can text you to match our schedules and figure out the times to meet up for the next couple of weeks before our next midterm.” You remain wide eyed, gazing at him like a deer caught in the headlights and still attempting to fully understand everything that has just happened.

Jaemin looks at you expectantly, his hand outstretched towards you with his phone tucked between his fingers. The device dangles there for an additional ten seconds that probably isn’t socially acceptable. Grab the phone, you scream at yourself silently, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. You blink slowly once. Then twice.

“Or, I can just… uh, type in your number if you tell me,” Jaemin says awkwardly, his smile wilting slightly as he shifts from one foot to the other under your unwavering gaze and slowly retracting his hand. Finally, you come to your senses as you quickly spring into action and snatch the phone from him, tapping in your digits and adding in your name and shared class before saving your contact.

“Here,” you mutter, returning his phone, and he gives you a relieved grin. You clutch onto the strap of your backpack a little tighter, cursing the way your heart skips a beat. “I should be free most weekday afternoons since I prefer to take all morning classes, but let me know when you’re free and we can work something out.”

“Awesome! Thank you so much, Y/N, you’re a life saver.” Jaemin beams at you, touching your shoulder briefly and you feel that very same place on your body erupt in flames as your face heats up in a similar manner. “I’ll text you tonight, yeah?”

You can only numbly nod, subconsciously raising your hand and waving at him, and Jaemin chuckles, flashing his pearly whites at you again, before he saunters off and blends into a group of other equally pretty and popular students, a few of whom look over at you with vague interest before turning their attention back to the boy who just joined them.

What have you gotten yourself into?

ii. you want to go for a ride?

“I’m getting sus vibes from him.”

Flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder, Lana takes a long sip of her wintermelon milk tea with honey pearls, a spitting image of that one infamous Starbucks meme of your school’s alumni, Hyungwon (His picture can still be found floating through discord chats, and you’re ninety percent sure your school used it in one of their recruitment brochures at one point). She’s sprawled out on the beanbag in the corner of your shared apartment’s living room, her HP laptop covered in sailor moon stickers balanced across her thighs (She swears HP is the best laptop brand, but you don’t trust electronics advice from anyone who can’t even use a toaster properly).

“Have you even spoken to Jaemin? How exactly are you getting sus vibes from him?” Moon jumps in, glancing over the top of her MacBook as she takes a quick break from her latest coding project regarding polynomials, matrices, and a bunch of other math terminology you rather not think about. You left all that arithmetic jargon back in high school after you got a 5 on both AP calculus exams and got to skip all required math classes for your accounting major (Sungchan wasn’t so lucky).

“He’s a fratboy finance major.” Lana rolls her eyes.

“Point taken, but weren’t you into that senior, Jaehyun? He’s one of them. You called him your soulmate,” you interject, and she splutters for a few seconds before putting her hand up in protest.

“Listen, I was going through a perpetual mental breakdown at the beginning of this semester. It doesn’t count. You try being a pharmacy major. Thank god I switched out to English. My mental state was compromised, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“What do you mean not thinking straight? Lana, you literally chose the straightest, most heterosexual man out there.” Moon jibes, closing her laptop now with an air of conceding defeat. You have to give her props for trying to work on some assignments, but you already knew no one was going to get any work done tonight. It’s a Thursday night anyway, which means you have until Tuesday to get all the homework assigned today done. You can always work on them on Monday night and inevitably curse yourself for not getting it done earlier when you end up pulling an all nighter and show up to your 8 a.m. international marketing tactics class with raccoon eyes.

“This is bullying, and we are on an anti-bullying campus,” Lana complains, giving the two of you the stink eye before leaning over and lightly shoving the snoozing boy sprawled across the floor next to her. “Wake up, Yang. Moon and Y/N gang up on me when you’re not awake to absorb all our gentle bullying.”

The boy in question sits upright, bleary eyes and the drying ink from his notes now decorating his cheek, a lasting reminder of the makeshift pillow for his impromptu nap. Yawning, he stretches his arms, rubbing his face and making an even bigger mess of smears. “What’d I miss?”

“We were just discussing Lana‘s tragic crush on Jaehyun last year,” you say, and she makes a strangled noise next to you. “Were you up late sewing again?”

“Yes,” Yangyang grumbles, “You would think Kaneki would be so easy to cosplay since he wears all black, but the mask is taking forever to make.”

“Can’t one of your sugar daddies buy one for you?”

“What sugar daddies? If I had one, I wouldn’t be stuck in here trying to balance equations,” he moans, crumpling up another sheet filled up with scribbles and his latest attempts at answering the second to last problem for organic chemistry.

“My bad, I thought you would have some from your cosplay account.” Moon shrugs, rummaging through her large soccer mom purse for a snack and triumphantly pulling out a box of green tea Hello Pandas. “You have like 100k followers on there.”

“My audience demographic is weebs.” Yangyang deadpans. “How many weebs do you know who are rich enough to send five thousand dollars every week to a struggling college student?”

“Wait, we’re going off topic right now. What do you know about Jaemin, Yang?” Lana cuts in, and Moon nods in agreement (You try not to look too interested, but fail miserably, no doubt).

“Jaemin Na? I’ve never talked to him personally, but there’s always stories about him and his friends. Jeno is on the baseball team and notorious for his body count. He’s the one that takes up like 30% of our university’s anonymous confessions Twitter account. This is his insta, but he’s not really active on social media.” Yangyang passes his phone around for the three of you to see Jeno’s Instagram. There’s a whopping total of fourteen posts, and every picture of him with someone of the opposite sex features a different girl. Instant red flag.

“Lia is pretty big on Tik Tok,” Yangyang continues, grabbing his phone to pull up her account to show all of you. “She’s pretty and is actually really good at singing, but she's basically trying to be the next Addison Rae. Jimin models, and she’s going by Karina nowadays. I heard she tried to trademark that name or something. She posts dancing Tik Toks. She and Yeonjun collab a lot. He walks for New York fashion week and has a Tik Tok for dancing, too. I’m like 70% sure they’re only dating to boost their views. Somi is the most popular one out of them. She’s the blonde one. She’s pretty talented and I heard she signed onto the same company as the Blackpink House. She’s even done a makeup video with Vogue recently.”

“And Jaemin has a pretty large social following. He takes decent pictures, and that’s what he insists his insta is for, but let’s be real, the majority of his followers are there for his face. You should see his TikTok. He literally just recorded himself looking at the camera and put some generic caption, and he racked up like seven hundred thousand likes,” Yangyang grumbles, pulling up his account to show you all the video in question. “Like literally, what the hell is this? I have to put in so many hours making my outfits and editing my videos and all he does is smile and paste ‘Don’t have a valentine again… hope this will change soon’ on top, and the preteens are foaming at the mouth.”

“Wow, jumpscare warning next time you show me him please.” Lana wrinkles her nose at the repeating offensive clip. Yangyang merely shoves his phone even closer to her in response, and she flips him off.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked about him. Why are you suddenly interested in him? Is this your Jaehyun 2.0 phase starting up?” Yangyang grins, and Lana flicks his forehead in retaliation.

“Shut up, when are you guys gonna let that die? Besides, it’s Y/N who’s interested, not me,” Lana retorts, and immediately, the spotlight is back on you. You cough awkwardly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all the attention.

“Uh, he just asked if I would tutor him…”

“And you said yes?” Yangyang sounds scandalized and utterly betrayed. “Why would you willingly fraternize with the enemy like that?”

“What enemy? I didn’t even know he knew I existed until this very recent development occurred.”

“Influencers like him are instant enemies to me, and as my friend, he’s your enemy by association. I can't believe you’re helping the competition,” Yangyang sniffs.

You don’t have the guts to tell them all that the only reason you accepted his tutor proposal is because you got ahead of yourself and despite all the odds and signs, thought Jaemin was asking you out. You know your friends won’t make fun of you (too badly), but that is completely humiliating, and you will be taking that to the grave.

“It’s just tutoring, don’t be so dramatic,” you scoff, making a face at him. “He texted me yesterday, and we’re meeting up at the library later today, and I reserved a private study room for two hours.”

“Oooh, so it’s a study date?” Moon teases, and your cheeks betray you with the amount of heat now emanating off of them.

“Shut up, it’s literally just tutoring. We’re going over supply and demand curves.”

“No, back up, he texted you yesterday and you didn’t tell us about him until today?” Lana interjects, holding up her hand and putting on a faux offended expression. “What kind of friend are you? We’re supposed to tell each other every nitty gritty detail about our love lives! Like Sungchan texts Moon good morning texts at eight in the morning, and by 8:30 a.m., we’re already getting a play by play about it in the group chat!”

Moon turns pink and opens her mouth before deciding against it and quietly shuts it. Yangyang silently laughs next to Lana, his shoulders shaking (You decide that you shouldn’t tell them Jaemin actually asked you in person to tutor him three days ago or else, Lana will chew you out even more).

You protest, flailing your arms around slightly in exasperation. “There’s literally zero development in my love life! I have nothing going on in it, and I can guarantee you that he does not see me in that light whatsoever.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Lana looks wholly unconvinced, and your two friends look back and forth between the two of you like two kids watching their divorced parents fight. “So… Do you need help picking out an outfit for tomorrow?”

“… Yeah.”

iii. sure, ken. jump in!

“Hey, Y/N!”

Jaemin loudly whispers a little breathlessly as he drops his bag onto the table and slumps into the chair next to yours, his chest heaving slightly. Startled, you jerk up in your chair, heart skipping a beat when you realize he’s here. You were supposed to be in a private study room, but there was a group of boys already in there, and as the most non-confrontational person to walk this earth, you decided to cut your losses and take a table nearby.

“Did you wait long? I got caught up outside the library when Somi stopped me and completely forgot,” he says apologetically, pulling out his textbooks, and you shake your head, giving him a shy smile.

“No, it’s alright. I was already here anyway, and I got some extra studying done.” You gesture towards the papers and notebooks strewn across the table’s surface, covered in your notes from today’s classes. “Should we start with today’s lesson? How much did you understand in class today?”

“Maybe the first five minutes of it only.”

You pause, glancing over at him. “Professor Hwang was ten minutes late to class.”

“Exactly.” Jaemin nods, and you stifle a laugh. He grins at you. “I don’t think you realize how much of a hopeless cause I am when you agreed to tutor me.”

“We can start from the beginning then. You have four weeks until the midterm, and we can go through every lesson we’ve had so far. I’ll make up a study schedule if you give me yours. And if you continue to go to Donghyuck’s tutoring hours too, you should hopefully be able to catch up and do well on the midterm.”

Jaemin wordlessly pulls up his class schedule on his phone, and you plug them into a Google calendar that you quickly share to his email. “So, I color coded your classes in green, and my classes are in pink. Do you have any other things that we need to work around?”

He peers over at your screen, scanning the contents. “I have my weekly frat meetings on Tuesday nights and mandatory events on other nights.”

“Alright, you can put them in and we’ll figure out meeting times,” you say, pushing your laptop towards him and he starts to add in his extracurricular activities.

“Party from 8 pm to 1 am?” you read skeptically, your eyes scanning over the event he tacked in under this week’s Friday.

“Yeah, can’t miss it,” Jaemin says, typing in more events and making sure to color code them in blue. “Don’t you have things to do on Friday night too?”

“Uh, maybe grab a poke bowl from the dining hall to go and watch another Banana Fish episode,” you say awkwardly, fiddling with the small Gojo keychain you have attached to your pouch.

Jaemin stops, looking over at you. “You watch Banana Fish?”

Your cheeks grow warm. “… Yeah, why?”

His eyes light up and he asks eagerly, “Did you see the latest episode? When Golzine leaves Arthur in charge?”

The two of you continue discussing the plot as he finishes up adding in his schedule for the next four weeks, finally nudging the laptop back towards you. “Do you need to add in your stuff too?”

“Mm no, it’s fine. I already put in my classes, and I’m not in any clubs or sororities,” you answer, making sure to input Donghyuck’s tutoring hours as well before scanning over the calendar and pinpointing areas where he’s free for at least one to two hours. “Okay, should we start with meeting three times a week?”

“Huh, you memorized Hyuck’s hours?” Jaemin notes, giving you a sly smile as he moves closer to look at the schedule.

“Huh? No, don’t you always know your professors’ and TAs’ office hours?” you ask, looking up and are immediately startled after underestimating the proximity between you and the beautiful boy next to you.

“No, I’m not a nerd,” he snorts lightly, and you laugh awkwardly, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction and put a little more distance between the two of you before you go into cardiac arrest, “Right, yeah, well, anyway—”

“You were also interested when I said Hyuck mentioned you before,” Jaemin says suddenly, sitting up straight before a wide grin spreads across his face as he loudly exclaims, “You totally have a crush on him!”

“Quiet down!” You immediately shush him, the tips of your ears burning as everyone within a 40 feet radius in the library is now staring at the two of you. You’ve never received this much attention before, and you very quickly realize that you absolutely hate it. You loudly whisper-protest, stumbling over your words in a panic, “I—I don’t have a crush on him!”

“Oh, come on, your face is getting hot and you’re stuttering. You do too like him,” Jaemin laughs softly, propping his elbow onto the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he gives you a once over. “I could totally make you into his type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask hotly, cheeks burning even more when you feel his eyes graze over your figure.

“Oh, it’ll be so much fun. We can go to the mall and pick out some cute clothes for you, and then swing by the hair shop. You’re definitely using the wrong conditioner and shampoo,” Jaemin continues, eying your hair for a quick second.

“Wait, wait, we’re just here for tutoring, what are you even talking about?” You ask, bewildered before grasping a stray strand of your hair between your fingers. “And what do you mean I’m using the wrong shampoo?”

“And conditioner,” Jaemin pipes up, picking up his phone to search up some better brands he would recommend. “What have you been using? 2 in 1 Head and Shoulders?”

“No,” you huff softly, your ears growing even warmer at the accusation. “I just use whatever my mom buys in bulk at Costco.”

“Okay, well, you should use this instead,” Jaemin says, showing his phone screen to you, and your eyes widen slightly when you note the price tag.

“I cannot be forking over nearly seventy dollars on shampoo and conditioner,” you say incredulously, pushing his phone back towards him and waving your hand dismissively. “And there’s no way I’m going to spend even more money on new clothes.”

“Okay, fine, I think I have some unopened bottles from sponsored deals that I can give to you,” Jaemin sighs, opening up his text messages to find his friends’ group chat. “Or my friends would have some good ones, too. Maybe we can get you some of their free clothes from sponsorships, too.”

“You guys just get free clothes?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, glancing over at you. “On second thought, Karina and Lia aren’t the same size as you, so you won’t fit them. We can just order some basic pieces online or something for starters.”

“We—We aren’t doing this,” you loudly whisper back to him, hyper aware of the other students around you who keep glancing over at Jaemin. “Let’s just focus on making this schedule and helping you pass your midterm.”

“Oh, please, doll, it’d be fun. Just think of it as a payment for your tutoring,” Jaemin persuades you, scooting closer to you and pressing his thigh against yours lightly. Your breath hitches in your throat at the pet name and his touch. You’ve never been this close to any boy before, let alone one as attractive as Jaemin.

“You’ll look so pretty, I know the perfect outfits to make for you. And I can teach you how to get Hyuck’s attention, too,” he continues, nudging you lightly, and you’re still dazed, unable to get over the fact that he’s impossibly close to you, close enough for you to count the pretty lashes framing his even prettier eyes. You wonder what it’s like to be that beautiful, what it’s like to have people falling at your feet, what it’s like to mesmerize everyone the second you walk into a room.

Honestly, if Jaemin asked you to jump, your only response would be “how high.”

“If I agree to this, will you finally pay attention?” you sigh, and Jaemin instantly brightens up, nodding and giving you another one of those smiles that makes your stomach flip flop. Your Achilles’ heel is one very persistent boy who goes by the name of Na Jaemin, and he has hit you with a direct bullseye.

“Yes, I’ll be a model student, doll.”

You hesitate for a split second before relenting. “Okay, fine, deal.”

iv. i’m a barbie girl in the barbie world.

Jaemin is easy on the eyes, but currently proving to be very difficult for your nerves during your fourth tutoring session. Your wardrobe has increased in style and size by now, and you’re dressed in a pretty lilac top that wraps around you and accentuates your curves and hides what needs to be hidden perfectly. Your jeans may dig a little more than you’d like into your stomach, but it’s your fault that you chose to wear your photo jeans instead of your sitting jeans. Also, your hair has never looked better, all thanks to the boy seated next to you.

“No, when there is a low supply, there’s a high demand. They directly affect each other,” you try to re-explain to the boy next to you, drawing out the line graph once again. He stares down at the familiar graph before looking at the written practice problem in front of him. Professors must have an insane amount of patience, you silently think to yourself.

You sigh. “Let’s put it this way. You and Jeno want to buy the same shirt, but there’s only one left in the right size. So that’s two people who are demanding the one shirt. And the store only has one shirt in its supply. So how would you describe this situation?”

“Oh.” The look of realization flashes across Jaemin’s face as your example easily snaps the puzzle pieces into place for him. “There’s a high demand and low supply. Too many people want the shirt, but there’s not enough shirts.”

“Yes, you got it!” You cheer quietly, mindful of your location at one of the library’s tables. “Now try reading through the practice problems and draw the appropriate supply and demand graphs for each one.”

“And when I’m done with this, we can take a break, and I’ll teach you how to do makeup. My friends will help,” Jaemin says idly as he reads through the first problem again.

Your stomach lurches slightly at that, and you hesitate. “Your friends?”

“Yeah, you know, Jeno, Karina, Lia, and Yeonjun. Somi, too, but she’s been busy. I can teach you basic skincare and makeup, but the girls will have to help you with the rest,” he says casually, scrawling down his first answer and the corresponding graph.

You swallow hard, your voice croaking slightly before you hastily clear it. “Are you sure? Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, doll. You’re like a puppy, and everyone likes those,” Jaemin mumbles idly, eyebrows furrowing as he rereads the second problem.

“A puppy?” You don’t know whether to be offended or not yet.

Oh, you know, just that you’re cute and all,” Jaemin laughs lightly, starting to write down his next answer, and your heart nearly stops in your chest. You force yourself to breathe regularly again.

“Oh, I see,” you start to answer coolly, but stuttering on the last word, internally cursing your tongue at the last stumble. You try to sit calmly and relax for the rest of the tutoring session as Jaemin slowly makes his way through the practice packet, but the knot in your stomach continues to tangle even more, growing ever bigger. Maybe you should just tell Jaemin that lunch didn’t agree with you and cut this meetup short.

But that means less time spent with Jaemin. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Jaemin is nice, so his friends should be as well, you reason with yourself. There’s no need to be nervous. Even if they’re all incredibly beautiful, hot people with the most unapproachable aura you have ever encountered.

Like honestly, how is someone like Karina even real? Her face could start a modern day equivalent of the Trojan War. She is literally the face blueprint for every main female character you play in your otome games.

Turns out, Karina is even more gorgeous up close. Ridiculously close with the way she’s inches from your face as she swipes on some blush on the apples of your cheeks. You never thought you’d see the resident it girl here for you, standing in the middle of your dorm room, let alone have an actual conversation with her that extended beyond a polite hello when she stops by for Giselle. It’s already been 45 minutes, and your nerves still haven’t calmed down.

“You just need to apply a little bit here and here on both your cheeks,” she instructs you, pointing towards your cheekbones and carefully applying the rosy powder to the same areas. She pauses in the application momentarily so that you can type out a few notes into your phone covering her directions. “You can go heavier if you want the cute sunburn, Sabrina Carpenter look, but if you do too much, you’ll end up looking like my ex.”

“What?” You’re startled, glancing over at her and nearly getting blinded once again by her lethal face card. She laughs lightly, giving you a slight smile. “A clown.”

“Oh, got it,” you chuckle, albeit nervously, shooting her a quick smile. “I’ll make sure to not do that.”

“Relax, it’s easy. Just a bit of makeup here and there, and you’ll be fine. All I do is some mascara, falsies, and a good lippie when I’m lazy, and I’m out the door in ten minutes,” Lia jumps in, holding several different tubes of lip tints.

“Are you sure? That’s really it?” You ask hesitantly, glancing over the various makeup products strewn over your desk. It looks a lot more complicated than what she had just described.

“Well, maybe you might need a bit more, like concealer and foundation. And some bronzer and heavy contouring. But just stick to the skincare routine and it’ll help lessen it,” Karina sighs, dabbing some highlighter to the tip of your nose before seeing the uncertain look in your eyes, adding hastily, “But it’s so worth it, trust. You’ll look so pretty, and it comes with so many perks. Girl math is knowing you can go out with no money and just your face card.”

“Hey, you’re friends with Yangyang?” Lia pipes up, noticing the photo strip you have pinned on your corkboard, nestled between the various Mystic Messenger Seven fanart and Zorro art prints.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I am. You know him?” You answer, and she nods before leaning in and evenly applying a thin layer of periwinkle tint on your lips. “Yeah, we’re in the same German class. Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

Well, you definitely can’t tell her about the raging heart on he has for his best friend, but it’s not like he really is seeing anyone either. You do vaguely remember Yangyang saying Lia was pretty and talented during his quick 5 minute minute class to Jaemin and his friends, so it’s not like he hates her either.

“No, he’s not,” you answer, hoping you made the right choice, and Lia’s face visibly brightens. “Oh, really? That’s great.”

“Okay, we’re done.” Karina announces, stepping back and holding up a mirror for you. “Not bad, right?”

“Oh, wow,” you suck in a breath, nearly gasping in surprise as you peer at the glass. You almost don’t recognize yourself. The contouring lifts up your face, slimming it down, and the blush gives you a pretty pink hue that makes you look sun kissed. Your lower lashes have nearly doubled in length with the mascara, giving you a pretty babydoll look. Karina had perfectly applied a set of falsies for you, framing your eyes delicately, and the shimmery eyeshadow and soft winged eyeliner accentuates your eyes even more. Your lips are the prettiest shade of pink, tinted and glossy.

You can’t believe it is your own reflection staring back at you.

“Now put this outfit on,” Lia says with a knowing smile, placing a shopping bag in your lap. “Jaemin picked it out.”

“Oh, really? Alright,” you manage to mumble out, dazed and still admiring yourself in the hand mirror. Karina laughs softly, nudging Lia before moving towards your door. “We have to get to a sorority meeting now, but I hope you like it, doll. And make sure to practice.”

“I love it,” you say breathlessly, grazing your fingertips against the cool glass, still in disbelief. “And I definitely will practice.”

“Mm, good, text us if you need any help! And send progress pics! We want to see how it’s going,” Lia answers, waving over her shoulder before the two of them exit your dorm. Sitting there alone, you stare at your reflection for a little longer, admiring yourself. You feel so pretty.

You finally remember the paper bag on your lap, and you immediately dig into it, pulling out a flowy floral sundress. It’s beautiful, and you quickly tug off your jeans and tshirt before going to your drawers to dig around for the appropriate bra for the dress. You manage to find it, snapping on the bra around yourself from the front before twisting it until the clasp is against your back. You hastily push your arms through the straps, tugging on either side until it’s on perfectly. You suck in a quick breath, internally preparing yourself for the battle with the next piece of clothing, a.k.a. your worst enemy: spandex. You’ve familiarized yourself with the awkward jig you have to do around your dorm until you’ve wriggled into the tight elastic enough so that it sits in the correct spot and sucks in all the right places.

At last, you won the war, but you feel sweaty now, flopping back onto your bed for a quick break. You flap your hands in front of your face, thanking whoever decided to invent setting spray. You grab your deodorant spray and douse yourself in a heavy dose of it before picking up the sundress and slipping it over your head. To your great relief, it slides on perfectly, and you quickly shuffle over to the full length mirror hanging on the back of your door. You straighten out the dress and quickly pat down any strand of hair knocked askew from your latest struggles before giving a smile to the mirror.

Dare you say it? You look pretty.

You’ve never looked this pretty before.

You happily take out the dainty gold heart necklace you had carefully tucked into your top desk drawer, struggling for a few seconds before you manage to clasp it around your neck. You quickly pull the pendant towards the front before slipping on the strappy sandals you left next to your desk. You grab the cute purse you bought last week, now packed with the perfect essentials, and give yourself one last once over.

You have nowhere to go, but you decide to take a walk to the dining hall. After all, you’re dressed up so nicely, makeup done so perfectly, you can’t waste it on another night stuffing your face with hot Cheetos and rewatching the first season of Haikyuu!!. Opening your door, you step out and nearly run into someone.

“Oh, finally, you’re done, doll. I thought you died in there or some…”

His eyes widening in utter shock, his next word dies on the tip of his tongue when Jaemin sees you standing in front of him. His mouth falls open slightly before he quickly closes it to swallow harshly, his throat running dry. He’s never seen you like this before, never imagined that you’d be this pretty. He inhales sharply, stiffening slightly as his eyes rake over your figure, seeing how the dress perfectly accentuates your figure, and settles on your face.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?” Your eyes widen slightly before your cheeks grow warm when you notice his stunned reaction.

“Um,” he croaks out, voice cracking before he quickly swallows again, silently cursing when puberty decides to make a belated appearance. “Lia texted me that you were done, so I wanted to see how it went. You look… wow.”

Your cheeks heat up even further, and you laugh a little nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “R-really? It’s not too much?”

“No!” He immediately blurts out before his cheeks flush carmine. “I—I mean, you look really good. You should dress like this more often.”

You can’t stop the smile spreading across your face, and Jaemin’s heart flip flops in his chest. “Really? Thank you, I will then.”

“Of course, really. I picked the dress myself after all,” He tries to joke before hastily clearing his throat. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. I was just going to go to the dining hall and grab some food,” you answer awkwardly, shifting your purse over your shoulder slightly and tightening your fingers around its strap.

“Let me take you out for dinner.” Jaemin blurts out, a little high pitched, mentally facepalming at how he sounds. “I mean, we can go over some of the harder problems in that packet since I probably need more studying anyway, and I’ll teach you a couple more dating tricks.”

“Sure, okay, that sounds good.” You give him a wider beam, and Jaemin feels his heart beat a little faster. Maybe you don’t need that much teaching from him after all. Seems like you’re a quick learner.

v. life is plastic, it’s fantastic!

“The only thing you’re fucking is stupid.”

“Shut the hell up, Yeonjun. At least I’m not sticking my dick in crazy.”

You watch the light argument going on between Jeno and Yeonjun in amusement. You and Jaemin had just finished your ninth tutoring session two hours ago, and you think he’s getting on track to actually scoring a decent grade for the next midterm. You were initially going to head towards Lana and Moon’s dorm for your weekly anime show marathon, but Jaemin insisted that you stop by the Alpha Sigma Psi house for a small party. Giselle and Karina are both part of that house, so you figured it couldn’t hurt to make a quick appearance. Good thing you spent some time touching up your makeup before today’s tutoring session.

“Hey, doll! Join the photo,” Jaemin calls out to you, gesturing you towards the area he and the rest of his friends are standing. You see another really pretty girl—Minjeong, was it?—standing on the side, holding up a phone and preparing to take the picture.

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I can just take the photo instead,” you laugh awkwardly, extending your hand out towards Minjeong, but Jeno gently nudges you forward, “No way, you never take pics with us. Just one, come on, Y/N.”

“Yeah, join us!” Jaemin says brightly, tugging you towards him and you stumble slightly, falling forward into his chest. You quickly catch yourself, hands suddenly pressed against his chest, and the blood rushes to your face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you start to babble, trying to push yourself away before Jaemin quickly wraps his arm around your waist. “Nope, you’re staying here, it’s just a few pics, please, doll?”

“I—I mean, I don’t really—”

You start to say before Minjeong’s voice cuts through the air. “Okay, I’m taking it in five seconds now. So get ready and pose or be ready to live with the consequences on Insta forever.”

Everyone immediately shuffles around, and you’re squeezed even tighter against Jaemin, and you just know that he can feel your heart pounding rapidly against his chest.

“Smile, doll,” Jaemin laughs gently, squeezing your hip lightly and you inhale sharply at that, your heart rate spiking and increasing exponentially. You muster up a few shaky smiles as the flash starts to go off.

After a few more pictures, you manage to untangle yourself from the group and hurriedly go towards Minjeong. “I can take the pictures, you should join in.”

She immediately brightens up at that, giving you a kilowatt smile as she hands you the phone and slips into your original position in between Jaemin and Karina. “Oh, thanks, Y/N.”

You wait a few moments for everyone to get readjusted before you begin to snap some photos, having already mastered this from the previous hang outs you’ve joined and knowing how to take the best angles for everyone, including all the 0.5 zoom out ones. After taking some additional group and solo photos for the girls, you’re finally free of your duties. Your eyes widen when you check the time on your phone, and you hurriedly make your way over to Jaemin.

“Hey, I need to get going now. I have to get to Lana and Moon’s dorm, so I’ll see you later,” you say quickly, already beginning to brush past him as the realization sets in that it’s been over an hour when you told your friends that you would only be fifteen minutes late.

“Wait, what? Hey, hold on, doll.” Jaemin reaches out to you, but you slip past him, calling over your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m late!”

He strides over, soon matching your pace as you speed walk back to the freshman dormitories. “Can’t you slow down a little bit? It’s not like you all haven’t seen these episodes before, plus we watched a few of them together after our last tutoring session.”

“Yeah, but I’m over an hour late,” you stress, slightly frazzled now as you hurriedly type out an apology to send to the group chat.

“Just breathe, okay? You’ll be fine. They’re your friends. They should understand,” Jaemin reassures you, grabbing your hand and you freeze slightly. He notices your stop and teases lightly, “I said slow down, not stop. What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” you stammer out a little too quickly, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. He’s holding your hand. Na Jaemin is hand in hand with you, fingers intertwined. You almost want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming.

“Well, alright then, come on, let me walk you back,” Jaemin laughs before tugging you along. “You can help me pick out which pictures to post on Insta along the way, too, yeah?”

“Oh, sure,” you say breathlessly, your heart rate quickening to an embarrassing speed when he squeezes your hand gently, and you nesrly trip over your own feet.

“Perfect, so what about this one?” He holds up his phone to show you the picture you had taken for the group earlier, and you falter slightly. Why are you feeling a little disappointed with his choice?

Jaemin notices your hesitation and says a little softly, “I know you’re a private person. So I thought you’d prefer if I posted the group photo you took. You always take the best pictures for me, too. You know my good side the best. And it’d be weird if Hyuck saw, too, right? But did you want the other photo? I mean, if you really want it, I can..?”

“No!” You hurriedly say to reassure him, squeezing his hand lightly. “No, you’re right. I don’t want my picture out there. And um, yeah, that definitely wouldn’t be good if Hyuck saw.”

Jaemin gives you a relieved smile. “Yeah, exactly. You’re not upset, right, doll? We still have that fun pic of us and our homemade pizzas from earlier that I posted on my finsta. I didn’t know making pizzas would be that easy.”

“Of course not, don’t worry about it,” you laugh softly, continuing to walk back to the freshman dormitories, and Jaemin swings your joined hands between the two of you freely.

“Mm, I’m getting free cooking and tutoring lessons in exchange for dating tips. Two for the price of one is quite the good deal for me, right?” Jaemin teases lightly, and you let out another laugh.

“You’re right, it is. You better step up your game then.”

“Oh, just you wait, you’ll get dating tips and a boyfriend, so we’ll be even,” Jaemin chuckles softly, squeezing your hand, and the butterflies erupt in your stomach once again, and you muster up the courage to say something a little more teasing.

“Is that a guarantee?”

“Well, you have a demand, and I must supply, right?”

“…I don’t think that’s how it quite goes, Jaemin. Maybe you need a few more tutoring sessions.”

“All I hear is that you want to spend more time with me,” Jaemin laughs, giving you the prettiest smile, and your cheeks warm up even more, heart stuttering in your chest. Speechless, you let him continue on, his chattering filling the air as you listen with quiet content, your hand securely tucked in his for the remainder of the walk back.

vi. you can brush my hair.

Jaemin sits on the edge of his chair across from you at the table in the dorm common area, anxiously tapping his fingers against the flat surface. You are down to the last page of the mock exam packet, carefully going over his work with a red pen. You made minimal marks on the papers, a stark contrast to the very first practice exam he had worked on near the start of your tutoring. At that point in time, he didn’t even get to the end of the exam.

“Amazing.”

You say in awe, scanning through the last problem Jaemin had completed before tallying up his final score and calculating his results. “I can’t believe it. You got an 87.”

“No fucking way,” Jaemin is wide eyed, staring at you in disbelief, and you give him a wide smile, sliding the packet over to him, so that he can look over the exam and notes you’ve written for the problems he missed.

“Yes fucking way.”

“Holy shit, this is insane,” Jaemin breathes out, carefully reading through each page, and to his utter amazement, he understands every note and explanation you had added next to each incorrect question. He looks up at you, beaming, “I really got a B+?”

“You did,” you confirm, smiling back at him. “And who knows? It might become an A if the exam gets curved.”

“Oh my god, I owe you my life,” Jaemin chuckles, staring down at the graded exam in front of him, still in disbelief. “Seriously, doll, thank you so much.”

“Oh, of course, anytime,” you laugh sheepishly, twisting the rings adorning your fingers around nervously before averting your attention elsewhere, standing up to go towards the adjacent communal kitchen and carrying your filled tote bag with you. “A—Anyway, I brought some things to celebrate a job well done so far.”

“And how did you know I would’ve done well? What if I completely bombed that exam?” Jaemin teases you, standing up and following after you.

“I don’t know, I guess I just believed in you,” you stutter out, cheeks warming up as you set down your tote bag on the counter, unable to look him in the eyes, and he freezes, mulling over your words silently.

You believe in him? Someone who’s a hopeless cause? He honestly didn’t even believe in himself, he thinks to himself, his chest constricting uncomfortably, a foreign feeling making its entrance known to him, constricting around his heart. He inhales sharply, shoving it away with an easy going smile. “Is that so? Well, thanks, Y/N. And what are we doing now?”

“Making pancakes,” you answer, busying yourself with pulling out the ingredients from your tote bag. “You need to be well fed before the midterm. Your brain needs food. And the class is at 8 am, and neither of us are not morning people, so this is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Pancakes?” Jaemin echoes after you, glancing at the various items strewn across the counter’s surface. “Does it really take this many ingredients? Isn’t it just the box mix and water?”

“That’s the short cut way. We’re making pancakes from scratch,” you laugh softly, taking out a mixing bowl and whisk along with the measuring cups and spoons.

“But why? It’s so much easier the other way.” Jaemin whines softly, and you chuckle lightly. “Trust me, it’s worth the effort.”

You hand the one cup measuring utensil and bowl to Jaemin and nudge him towards the flour. “Help me measure out two cups of flour.”

“Alright,” he sighs, opening the bag of flour and carefully scooping out the first cup, scraping off any excess before dumping it into the bowl before repeating the process. “What next?”

“Four tablespoons of sugar,” you answer, handing him the sugar and appropriate measuring utensil before working on measuring four teaspoons of baking powder and a quarter of a teaspoon of baking soda. You pour those to the mixing bowl as Jaemin quietly measures the sugar and adds it in as well before waiting for your next instructions. You quickly drop in half of a teaspoon of salt before pushing the bowl towards him. “Now whisk this together gently, please.”

Jaemin busies himself with combining the dry ingredients as you take out half a stick of butter from the fridge (The one labeled with your name, of course. You’re no food thief, unlike someone who’s been stealing other people’s leftover takeout). You microwave it to get four tablespoons of melted butter before making your way to Jaemin’s side.

“Okay, now make a well in the center of it,” you say, and Jaemin clumsily makes an indent in the dry mixture before looking towards you for approval.

“Perfect, now add in two teaspoons of vanilla extract and crack the egg into it there,” you instruct him, and he obediently follows your directions. You measure out one and three quarters cups of milk and add it to the well before also pouring in the melted butter.

“Do I just whisk it together now?” Jaemin asks, picking up the whisk again, and you nod.

“Yes, mix it all together. It’s fine if there’s a few lumps, but it should be smooth overall.” Your eyes trail over his face, and you stifle a small laugh. “You got a little something on your cheek.”

“What?” Jaemin looks up, pausing in his whisking and you can’t help but giggle, staring at the flour dusting his cheek. “There’s flour on your face.”

“Oh, really? Can you wipe it off for me?” Jaemin laughs softly, attempting to brush at it with his shoulder but failing to reach that high.

“Oh, s-sure,” you stammer slightly, your hand quivering slightly as you outstretch your fingers and gingerly brush your fingertips against the apple of his cheek. His sun kissed skin is warm beneath your fingertips, and your breath hitches in your throat before you gently wipe away the remaining residue. You can feel his gaze searing into your face, but you refuse to look him directly in the eyes.

“There, all done,” you murmur, hastily pulling away and taking a step back. Jaemin lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. He clears his throat, setting down the bowl. “I think this is all done, too.”

“Oh, great, that’s great,” you say, immediately focusing on the bowl before carrying it with you towards the stove, turning it on. “Let’s set this to medium-low heat. And I’ll add some butter to the pan, so the pancake won’t stick.”

Jaemin hands you the leftover butter and pan for you to set onto the stove. You use the spatula to move around a pat of butter, coating the pan nicely. Once the stove is ready and the butter starts to sizzle slightly, you pour a quarter cup of the batter onto the pan, expertly flicking your wrist to rotate the pan and cause the batter to form a perfect circle. You pull out a small container of blueberries, sprinkling some of them on top.

“Woah.” Jaemin watches you, impressed. “Teach me how to do that.”

“This? It’s easy,” you laugh softly, checking on the pancake until its underside is golden and small bubbles start to form on the top. You quickly move the pan, flipping the pancake onto its other side. “You can try making the next one.”

“Yeah? Will you wrap your arms around me and give me the one on one experience?” Jaemin jokes lightheartedly, and you nearly choke. “I mean—I don’t think that's completely necessary.”

“Relax, doll, I’m just kidding,” he laughs softly, nudging you gently, and you let out an awkward laugh. “Oh, totally. Just a joke.”

Once the pancake is golden on both sides, you carefully slide it onto a plate Jaemin pulled out from one of the cabinets. Your heart rate finally returns to its normal state, and you manage to say calmly, “Maple syrup and whipped cream are in the fridge.”

Jaemin takes out the aforementioned toppings, generously slathering on some butter before pouring the syrup and spraying whipped cream onto the pancake. He cuts out a small piece and quickly spears it onto his fork before taking the bite, nearly moaning in delight at the first taste.

“Holy crap, this is so fucking good.”

“My secret recipe,” you say proudly as you start to pour the batter for a second pancake, evenly spreading it on the pan. “Was it worth the effort?”

“Yes.” Jaemin swallows, almost immediately going for another bite before he gazes at you, giving you a genuine smile, and your heart rate again increases to an alarming speed.

“Definitely worth it.”

vii. undress me everywhere.

You finish the midterm in forty five minutes, being the first one to turn in your completed exam. This means you finished twenty minutes before the class ends and consequently, either failed it spectucularly or knocked it out of the park. You really hope it’s the latter.

Despite being rather preoccupied with other matters a.k.a. your suddenly thriving social life, you managed to cram in some studying here and there because your mother would absolutely kill you if you lost your provost scholarship. Gifted kid burnout? Who’s that? You never heard of her before (Just kidding, you’ve had plenty of breakdowns and cry fests over calculating bond values and stock prices).

Now outside of the classroom in one of the open study alcoves, you drop your Longchamp bag on the empty chair next to you before tugging at the back of your jean skirt before carefully sitting down. You make sure to readjust your bra straps, tucking them under the ruched fabric of your white shirt. Tapping your fingers against the scratched surface of the table, you briefly admire the shimmery gold ombré manicure adorning your nails that Jaemin had chosen last week. You pull out a compact from the inner side pocket of your purse, carefully checking your makeup to ensure it is still in pristine condition before quickly swiping in another layer of your Buxom plumping lip gloss in the best shade: fir royale.

The flurry of text messages pinging across your screen quickly catches your attention, and you tuck your mirror and tube of lip gloss away before scrolling through them, letting out a quiet scoff at Karina’s latest melodramatic outburst in the clout chasers group chat:

[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear ✨: guys, gals, and yuckjun

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: what tf ??? why are you calling me out

[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear ✨: shut up or else I won’t make out with you anymore

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

[ 11:46 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: are you that touch starved bro

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: anyway as i was saying

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: this skank in my marketing class has been copying my outfits and posting them on her insta and she has like 10k followers now

[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: time to tear a bitch apart

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: like look at this shit

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: sent {10 images.jpeg}

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: my followers are gonna rip her apart

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: she’s downgrading my brand

[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: dw girl i’ll do a response video so my followers will see too

[ 11:48 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: she can’t get away with this

[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear ✨: loved a message

[ 11:48 a.m. ] somi amor 💋: idk… they’re similar styles but that’s what popular rn

[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear ✨: it’s gonna be song jia 2.0 watergate

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: just say you’re broke and go

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: if she’s gonna plagiarize me, she better do it right like bffr walmart version

[ 11:49 a.m. ] somi amor 💋: you have proof they’re fake?

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: i mean fake bitch fake bags right

[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: idk she’s kinda hot

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: shut up jen be like your hairline and fall back

[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: HELLO ?! back me up yeonjun

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: um

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

[ 11:51 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: if you wanna be fucking stupid then knock yourself out

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: loved a message

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: hey my place tonight jun 🥰

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: are you gonna listen to your own advice yj

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: excuse me ????

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: 🤐🤐🤐

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: proverbs 26:11

“Hey, doll, what’s so funny?”

Jaemin appears next to you, and you let out a startled squeak, jumping in your seat, and he laughs, quickly placing his hands on your shoulders to steady you. You look at him wide eyed for a few seconds, his question not yet registering in your mind, and he waits patiently for your answer.

“Oh!” Your eyes light up, and he smiles at the endearing sight. “Just Karina ranting about something and Yeonjun being whipped.”

“Ah, so the usual?” He reaches for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and you stand up, pulling your skirt down once more to ensure you’re covered. The two of you start to make your way out of the Langley Hall.

“Yep. How was the midterm for you?”

He brightens up, opening the door for you and you thank him. “It wasn’t too bad at all! I actually understood like 90% of the questions and for the others, I was able to narrow down the answers between two choices, so 50/50 chance, fingers crossed I picked the right one.”

You beam when you hear that, and he returns the smile, eyes crinkling in the corners, and you pretend to wipe away faux tears. “I feel like a proud mom.”

“I think my mom actually will be proud,” he says, eyes scanning the cars parked on the nearby street before finding his. He grabs your hand, tugging you along. “C’mon, we gotta go celebrate that our misery is over until finals week. Plus, we gotta prep you when you talk to Hyuck.”

“Wait, what?” You abruptly stop short, and he nearly loses his grip on your hand. “When am I talking to him?”

“This Saturday. You’re coming with me to the Nu Chi party, right?”

“Since when? I don’t go to parties,” you protest, “They’re too loud and noisy, and beer is gross and—”

“You went to the Alpha Sigma one a few weeks ago though?” Jaemin interrupts, and you shake your head. “That was a small party though. This one is the party of the semester. What if I embarrassed myself in front of the entire school?”

“Parties are the prime time for meeting people and getting to know them because alcohol makes everyone friendlier and people don’t stay within their friend groups,” Jaemin interrupts. “Do you really believe that you’ll get him to like you by, I don’t know, one day, your eyes will meet across the classroom, and he’ll fall madly in love with you? This isn’t one of your fanfics, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, letting go of his hand on purpose, and he frowns, bottom lip jutting out in a pout before reaching out for your hand again. You swiftly dodge him, and he whines, quickly snatching your hand up and lacing your and his fingers together.

“I hope this isn’t how you’ll treat him on your date. Thank god we’re doing a trial run right now.”

“A trial run?” you echo him, and he nods, flashing you that favorite smile of his that never fails to make you weak in the knees.

“Well, we have to make sure your first date goes perfectly so there will be a second, right? Practice makes perfect,” he says matter-of-factly, and you nod slowly in agreement. The logic makes sense somehow.

“Okay, so where would you pick for a first date?”

“Maybe a cute cafe? Oh, there’s that one place: Cloudy with a Chance of Boba!” You brighten up, thinking about that boba shop’s menu you spent a good half hour scrolling through on Yelp last night.

“Mm, the most popular place right now is that ramen place on the end of Maisie Street. It’d probably be best to go there,” he muses, tugging you along via your intertwined hands. You nearly stumble in your heeled sandals but swiftly catch yourself.

“O-oh, okay, so are we going there now?”

“Nah, let’s do the ice cream place next door to it. Not really feeling noodles at the moment.” He stops to look over his shoulder at you, and you run into his back, causing him to let go before quickly reaching out and grabbing your arms to steady you. “Woah, be careful.”

“Sorry.” You’re flustered, your cheeks now growing hotter than a furnace. Jaemin reaches forward, his finger carefully swiping at the smudged lip gloss on the corner of your lip. “Where’s your lip gloss? You should reapply this.”

Eyes widening, he then shifts and peers behind him, craning his neck to the side in all attempts to look at the back of his shirt. “There’s not a mark on my shirt, right?”

You quickly rub off any shimmery residue. “It’s fine, your shirt is dark blue, so you can’t see it anymore.”

“Oh, good. Wait, where’s your lip gloss?” You fish through your bag, pulling out the tube and handing it to Jaemin. He uncaps it, giving you the lower half of the gloss before gently grasping your chin with one hand. He leans forward and tilts your head towards him, his eyes focused on your lips. The butterflies in your stomach erupt in an instant. You try so hard to stand still, fidgeting with one of the rings on your finger behind your back.

Jaemin’s face is so close to yours that you can count every single long dark eyelash that frames his pretty eyes. His lips are the prettiest shade of carmine, and you wonder what it’s like to be Aphrodite’s favorite child. How lucky you are to already be basking in the attention of her favorite; imagine how much luckier he is to be her favorite.

The beautiful boy in front of you carefully applies the gloss for you, fully concentrating on coating your lips with a pretty sheen once again. When he glances up, he’s almost blown away by the way you’re looking at him.

You look stunning, pretty as a picture in VOGUE magazine. Not quite the cover page, but you’re nearly there. A swell of pride runs through his veins, like an artist admiring his latest masterpiece on show in MOMA.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat, handing back to you the lip gloss. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

“Alright.” You follow behind him like a lost puppy, and he reaches back to grab your hand and interlace your fingers. Your heart nearly skips a beat as your cheeks grow warmer once again, and for a split second, you wonder if he feels the same way.

“We’re here,” Jaemin announces, letting go of your hand to open the shop’s door, the bell above it jingling faintly as he gestures for you to go inside.

You enter the pretty shop, marveling the clean and simple interior with circular white tables and matching garden iron chairs surrounding each one. There’s bright greenery and plants decorating the edges of the shop, and the wall is covered in mismatched frames of paintings and pictures in various sizes and colors. The cheeky neon sign displayed near the front read, “It’s not gonna lick itself!”, and you laugh softly when you see it. The display of different colorful ice creams at the front are absolutely enticing, and you’re already struggling to decide which two flavors to pick.

You finally decide on a Vietnamese coffee and honeycomb swirl, accepting it from the cashier before you start to pull out your wallet. Before you can even pull out your card, Jaemin taps his phone against the screen, paying for both yours and his.

“Never pay on the first date,” he chides you lightly, picking up his ice cream. “Always let the guy pay for the first date.”

“Oh, but shouldn’t we at least split it?” You ask sheepishly, walking towards a table near the back that he gestures towards. He follows behind you, picking up some spoons and napkins.

“If the guy is so broke that he can’t pay $7 for your ice cream, then he shouldn’t be out dating anyway. He should be getting a job,” Jaemin retorts, tugging your chair out for you before sitting across from you and handing you a spoon and napkin. “Don’t you watch that Shera lady? Sprinkle, sprinkle and all that jazz. Maybe you can split for the future dates, but if the guy has any basic decency, he would pay for the first one.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” you sigh, taking a hefty scoop of your ice cream and having the first bite. It’s delicious, and you make a mental note to buy a pint and bring back to your dorm to share with Giselle later.

The two of you continue to discuss various appropriate topics to broach on a first date (“Hey Jaemin, you like cheese? My favorite’s Gouda.” “… Please do not ask that.”). You quickly jot down bullet points in your Notes app, your fingers flying over the screen as Jaemin instructs you on good conversational starters and body language.

“So you just need to touch him on his upper forearm and then pull away. Stoke his ego and say he’s funny or some shit like that. At least you don’t have to force yourself to laugh with him though because Hyuck is naturally funny anyway. And he’s good at keeping up the conversation and a people person, so it won’t be awkward even for your first date,” Jaemin continues as you nod, rapidly typing what he says.

“And at the end of the date, touch his shoulder again, glance down at his lips for a brief second before making eye contact. If he’s bold enough, he’ll go for the first kiss. But then just immediately smile and say you had a great time before he can lean in. After that, he won’t stop thinking about that moment, and it’ll drive him crazy, and he’ll be texting you for a second date within the next day.”

“Mm, okay, I think I got it,” you mumble absentmindedly, engrossed in writing down the last few bullet points and Jaemin leans over to take a closer look at your phone, his eyes flitting over the screen.

“So for the last point, do I have to deny the first kiss then? Smile and walk away before he leans in and…”

You start to ask until you look up, and your breath hitches in your throat at the close proximity, your and his noses almost brushing. Jaemin is so pretty, even prettier when you can count the few freckles dotting his face, can clearly see the mesmerizing golden flecks dotting his irises, can admire the way his lips look so soft and curve into the picture perfect smile. Your heart thumps wildly, nearly falling onto the floor along with your jaw when you glance up from staring at his lips and see that he’s already looking back at you with the softest expression on his face.

“You don’t have to,” Jaemin murmurs, and your heart stutters in your chest as he moves in closer, his lashes brushing against your cheek, and suddenly, his lips are pressed against yours. They’re pink and soft and slot perfectly against yours in a way that has your heart skipping beats and stomach doing cartwheels.

Eyes widening, you freeze up, letting out a quiet squeak of surprise, before he pulls away, giving you an amused smile. The lingering warmth on your lips makes your cheeks heat up, and you have to break eye contact, stammering over your words as you gently graze your fingers over your lips in wonderment.

Jaemin laughs softly as he leans back in his chair. “We’ll have to work on this too then. You’re kissing like it’s a Park Shinhye kdrama.”

You’re still dazed, cheeks growing even warmer as you avoid his gaze, fiddling with the loose thread on the hem of your skirt. “That was my first kiss.”

Jaemin pauses at the realization, his cheeks flushing slightly before he clears his throat, giving you a half smile and a light chuckle, “Oh, really? That’s cute, doll. Well, I’ll teach you some tips, so you’ll be better at it by the time you ask Hyuck out. At least you got a decent first kiss, right? No big deal.”

“Yeah, no big deal,” you echo softly, your heart still racing at breakneck speed. You pretend to focus on the remnants of your ice cream in the bottom of your paper cup, fingers gripping around the container tightly.

Jaemin was right.

You don’t think you’ll be able to stop thinking about this moment anytime soon.

viii. come on, barbie, let’s go party!

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Moon asks worriedly, helping you with your makeup as you sit, perched on the edge of your bed. She uncaps your eyeliner as Lana fusses with your shirt, smoothing out any of the wrinkles. “Actually, I can’t do it. You do it, Yang. You’re an expert at this.”

“Alright, give it to me.” Yangyang comes over, grabbing the eyeliner and expertly draws on the wing above your right eye. “Years of cosplay have finally come in handy. Although, I still can’t believe you’re putting in all this effort for Jaemin.”

“I need to look pretty. He usually does my makeup for me, but he’s busy right now,” you mumble, twisting the ring around your finger anxiously. “It’s my first time going to a party. I can’t embarrass him when he’s a ten.”

“Yeah, in rupees,” Yangyang scoffs, and Lana frowns at you, stopping in her tracks. “Don't talk about yourself like that. You’re already pretty, and if anything, you should be embarrassed to be seen with that slime ball. I can’t believe he doesn’t even have the decency to pick you up. Why are you the one going to his place?”

“He has some frat meeting right now,” you answer, glancing down at your newly manicured nails. The pearl color shimmers under the light, and you can’t help but admire it even more. You wish they were a little shorter, but they really do look quite pretty.

“What meeting? We’re in the same frat. Also, hold still,” Yangyang huffs, holding your chin as he draws on the left wing over your eye. “We need them to look like twins, not cousins twice removed.”

“I don’t know, he just said there was some meeting,” you mumble, holding perfectly still until he finally finishes. “Maybe it was a one on one meeting or something, who knows?”

“I still think he’s shady,” Lana grumbles, and Moon nods as well. “Yeah, like the first kiss thing?”

“It’s no big deal,” you wave your hand dismissively, hopping off of your bed and taking a look at yourself in your mirror. “Better to get it over with, right? I mean, imagine being this old and not having your first kiss yet.”

“Is that what he said to you?” Moon huffs, affronted, and you shift in your place uncomfortably. “No, of course not. It’s just—everyone gets their first kiss when they’re like fourteen or fifteen, right?”

“That’s not the point,” Lana says indignantly, tucking your hair behind your ear carefully. “You wanted it to be special, didn’t you? It just feels like… he took something away from you.”

“He didn’t. I wanted this,” you answer loudly, ignoring the way your stomach flip flops as you try not to think back to that moment. He kissed you, he really does like you back, he might have not said it out loud, but he knows how much it means to you (Wouldn’t he?).

“Okay, as long as you’re happy,” Moon gives in, and she and Lana exchange a worried look that goes unnoticed by you. But what can they do? They can continue to try convincing you, but it will never work when it falls on deaf ears.

“I am,” you insist, avoiding your friends’ gazes and staring at yourself back in the mirror. Moon attempts to lift the mood again, offering you a tentative smile in the reflection. “This whole thing is like a whole emotional rollercoaster, and Yangyang is definitely not tall enough to ride.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m literally almost six foot tall,” Yangyang shoots back, and you laugh, relaxing once more as you watch your friends start to bicker again.

“Listen, you can’t be delusional and short. Pick a struggle.” Moon counters, and Lana agrees, handing you your phone to tuck into your pocket. “She’s right. You carry yourself with the confidence of a much taller man.”

You smile fondly as the bickering between your friends continues. You miss them, you realize with a jolting pang of regret, you haven’t been hanging out with them as often as you used to. In fact, the majority of your weeks are spent with Jaemin and his friends.

It’s your first cold dose of reality, and you’re hit with a startling truth. You haven’t been a very good friend lately.

—

Lana drove you to the Nu Chi Theta house, and you felt like a kindergartener being dropped for her first day of school. Your face feels hot as a wave of embarrassment rushes over you as you notice the amount of glances you receive from the insanely pretty girls and boys already on the front lawn and streaming out from the front door. You quickly exit the vehicle, hurriedly waving good bye over your shoulder before making your way into the house, almost tripping over the raised walkway.

You wander around the house, searching for Jaemin and quickly sidestepping a through the couples and other students dancing around, nearly getting bowled over by someone you recognize from your school’s football team. He gives you a quick once over before offering a half apology, eyes set on another girl on the other side of the room. You take a deep breath before pushing your way into the next room, finally spotting Jaemin with his friends, minus Jeno and Somi, by the staircase and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” you say breathlessly, squeezing through two couples busily making out in the doorway and wincing slightly when you jostle both of them, causing them to give you dirty looks before resuming their activities.

“Oh, hi, Y/N!” Karina says brightly, giving you a perfect smile and reaching over to squeeze your arm gently. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”

“My first frat party? Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” you laugh, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear nervously before fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Jaemin gives you a small smile, and you return it with a slightly shaky one, your eyes flickering towards the fading pink, glossy lip mark staining the collar of his shirt. The color is much too dark to be Jaemin’s, and your stomach churns slightly.

“You look so pretty, Y/N, I love the confidence,” Lia chimes in, gently pinching the fabric of your skirt between her manicured fingers. “I love this, you’ll have to let me borrow it sometime.”

“Oh, of course! You can borrow it anytime,” you agree quickly, flashing her a slightly forced smile before glancing over at Jaemin again, unsure what to do.

“Where do you shop?” Yeonjun asks, glancing over at your outfit. “The shirt is nice, too.”

“Oh my god, yes, we have to go shopping together sometime, and you’ll have to show me all the good places,” Karina cuts in, nudging you gently before letting out a sigh, looking over at Lia. “God, I’ve been feeling so fat lately, like freshman twenty might be getting to me.”

“No, same, I’ve been extending my gym sessions and doing Pilates,” Lia huffs softly, and you remain silent, switching your weight around on each foot, glancing over at Jaemin helplessly.

“I need another drink. You coming, Y/N?” Jaemin finally speaks up before brushing past Yeonjun, and you hurriedly follow behind him, careful not to fall behind or get swept away. He quickly pushes through to the kitchen, finding a spot next to the counter covered in various bottles of cheap alcohol and stacks of red solo cups dispersed in between.

“You want one?” Jaemin asks, extending a shot of vodka he just poured out towards you, and you shake your head before he gives a wry smile. “You sure? It’ll help with the nerves. You were shaking back there.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “You noticed?”

“Everybody noticed,” he snorted, handing you the cup, and you wince slightly before holding your nose and downing it in one go. “Give me another then.”

“Atta girl,” Jaemin hands you another shot and you take that one just as quickly, making a face that causes him to smile subconsciously. As he pours himself a cup of beer, he spots Donghyuck by the pool out back, and a knot settles in his stomach uncomfortably. He almost doesn’t want to tell you, and he doesn’t know why. It’s just because he worked so hard to make you look this good, and his loudmouth friend gets to reap all the benefits, he tells himself, taking a swig of his drink, Donghyuck doesn’t know how lucky he is.

Ignoring all the stop signs and whistles going off in his head, he gestures towards Donghyuck outside, clenching the red cup in his hand a little tighter than normal. “There’s your chance. Gotta do it before the alcohol wears off.”

“Oh, um, actually, I wanted to talk to you,” you stammer out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear again (It’s one of your habits when you’re nervous, and he thinks it might be his favorite). He pushes down the growing knot in his stomach.

“We’ll talk later, yeah? You can’t miss this,” Jaemin insists before nudging you in the direction of the pool outside despite your soft protests.

“W-wait, I jus—” you say desperately, but Jaemin merely waves you off before disappearing back into the party inside. You let out a sigh, shoulders sagging slightly. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him after all the effort he put in these past four weeks.

You’ll tell him later.

—

“Oh? Where’s your little Barbie doll, Jaemin?” Karina simpers as she lazily taps her pretty manicured nails against the half filled red solo cup in her other hand when Jaemin returns to his original spot. “Have you gotten bored of playing with her yet?”

“It’s not like that,” Jaemin answers hotly, “She’s… fun. She makes me laugh.”

“How? By looking at her?” Yeonjun snorts, chugging his own cup before crinkling it in his fist. Jaemin wants to throw up. “We thought you just did this because you’ve been having a dry spell and were bored. Where is she anyway?

“She’s talking to Hyuck right now,” Jaemin mumbles meekly, shoulders slightly hunched over as he stares into the depths of his own solo cup.

“Really? I mean, is she even his type?” Lia asks skeptically, straightening up in her spot to see if she can spot you or Donghyuck anywhere. “If anything, I thought her friend—the pretty English major one—would be his type. How is she anyone’s type?”

“Hey, he turned her from a four to a solid eight. She might even go up half a point once you introduce her to an exercise and diet plan.” Karina says offhandedly, raising her cup towards him in mock salute before taking a sip.

“Yeah, how are you going to do that? It’s not like you can even sugarcoat it for her because then she’d eat it too,” Yeonjun throws out with a smirk, and Jaemin feels sick to his stomach, the nauseating feeling growing exponentially and gnawing at him as his friend continues, “I mean she’s probably already on the seafood diet because she sees any food and just eats it. How can you even stand her, Jae? The way she just follows you around like a puppy. Isn’t it annoying?”

“God, I know, the way she basically chases after us like a lap dog is so pathetic. At least she takes good insta pics for us though, so she’s somewhat useful. But we had that one really good group photo at that last party, and she totally ruined the picture. You can’t even crop her out because she had to stand next to you, Jae,” Lia complains, rolling her eyes, and Karina laughs, taking out her phone and scrolling through her photos.

“Oh my god, I know the exact photo you’re talking about. It’s this one, right? She practically threw herself into your arms,” She flashes her screen towards the group, and Jaemin wants to shrink and crawl into a hole somewhere and die. Was it the best photo of you? No. Was it the worst? Maybe close to it. You’re standing sideways and still taking up more space in the photo than the others, and the flash photography did not do any favors for you. You stand out even worse than Will Smith in the sunflower costume meme. He cringes inwardly, noting the way your skirt had rolled up and you’re smiling a little too widely. He makes a mental note to help you practice better, more flattering poses later on.

“You know that famous baby hippo? Moo Deng? I think we found her twin from the future,” Yeonjun barks out a laugh, reaching over and zooming in on you as Karina smirks before putting away her phone. Lia giggles and glances over at Jaemin, scrutinizing his reaction before a sly expression makes an appearance on her face, saying coyly, “You have a crush on her, don’t you?”

Jaemin flushes, embarrassment coating his cheeks, and he immediately snaps, “Shut up, I might be lonely, but I’m not despera—”

“Oh, Y/N!” Lia says loudly, effectively cutting Jaemin short. “How did it go? Are you and Hyuck gonna be the new couple on campus?”

Immediately, his heart drops even further to his stomach, and Jaemin whirls around to see you standing a few feet away. Did Lia know you were there? How long were you standing there? Did you hear them? Did you hear every horrible thing they said about you?

“Oh, Donghyuck said he wasn’t interested, but he was nice about it,” you say, offering a vague smile in Jaemin’s direction, and he nearly breathes a sigh of relief as his heart starts to slow back down to its normal rate. A part of him is glad that Donghyuck rejected you, and he nearly misses what you say next, too caught up in this unfamiliar feeling.

“I think I’m going to head back to my dorm. I’m a little tired. Thank you for inviting me.”

With that, you turn away and walk off, but something still doesn’t feel right to Jaemin. It’s a split second decision but for once, he puts his heart over his mind and chases after you, ignoring the increasing whispers from his friends and their eyes searing into his back.

ix. raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by na jaemin.

Jaemin is right on your heels the entire time you walk back to your dorm. All he receives is stony silence from you that he fills with babbling nonsense, asking you what’s wrong to no avail. When you finally enter your dorm, you turn to him at last, and he perks up. However, the two words that come out of your mouth have him deflating faster than Yangyang’s ego when Alice called him a shitty kisser with too much saliva (“You’re supposed to make me wet down there, not up here. Honestly, dude, if I wanted to drown myself, I would’ve jumped into the ocean.”).

“We’re done.”

You decide to bite the bullet.

After freeing your feet from their pointy death contraptions, you peel off each layer of clothing one by one, unzipping the mini skirt and kicking it away before tugging at the spandex, unleashing the breath you’ve been holding in since 8 a.m. to fit into it. There’s still indents marking the dips in your waist and your thighs, a lasting reminder that stays like an embarrassing stain. You fling that abhorrent piece of elastic elsewhere, and it falls near the end of your bed, out of sight behind the pile of textbooks you haven’t touched for the past three days.

“Hold on, what are you talking about? We made so much progress. You wanted to do this,” Jaemin protests, following after you and picking up the discarded garments you threw haphazardly. He waves around the skirt like a white flag. “You wanted to be in the popular crowd, and you got it. You’re this close to dating Hyuck. Yeah, he might’ve said no now, but we’ll come up with a new plan—You can bounce back from this! Why are you quitting now?”

Removing the off-the-shoulder pink top that restricts your arm movement, you quickly slip on an oversized sweater before reaching back and unhooking the strapless bra whose underwire has been digging into your ribs for so many hours, a sigh of relief escaping between your teeth. You toss it onto your chair without another care in the world, and it lands next to the shirt in a heap.

“Because this isn’t me. This isn’t what I like.”

“Of course, it is. This is still you: just new and improved,” he insists, frantically attempting to hand you your discarded shirt and pleather skirt. You ignore them, opting to pull out and put on your favorite pair of stretched out gym shorts from middle school that you had shoved in the back of your closet to make room for all the flashy clothing Jaemin picked out for you. “We’re having fun. You’re popular and pretty now. You’re almost dating Donghyuck. You have everything that everyone wants. You’re the girl the boys want to be with, the girl all the other girls want to be.”

You shake your head, reaching for the packet of makeup wipes near your sink. “It’s not what I want.”

Jaemin scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. What are you talking about? This is what you asked me to do.”

You throw him a scathing glare, and he takes a step back. “God, Jaemin, for once in your life, take off the stupid rose colored heart shades, and you’ll finally see all the red flags around you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaemin asks defensively. He thought everything was going according to plan; he’s going to pass macroeconomics, and you got to talk to Donghyuck and are this close to scoring a date with him. People notice you wherever you go, the two of you receive compliments, his friends like you, everyone likes you.

“I have to pretend to like things I hate and hate the things I like. I have to do things a certain way, act a certain way, pretend this is all effortless. I don’t know if people are being genuine or pretending like I am. I hate this—this fake version of me.” You spit the words out like fuel to a fire, and you stand there in all your blazing glory, ugly uniform shorts and all.

“My thighs keep chafing. My feet have blisters everyday from these boots. This foundation makes me break out even more, and I can’t type up my notes in class or write fast enough because of these nails, and my grades almost took a plunge. I’m basically freezing my tits off out there in a shirt I don’t like. The lashes make my eyes itch, and this skirt is so short that I have to keep pulling it down every five seconds before I end up flashing someone.”

You don’t recognize the girl in your mirror anymore. You pluck off the falsies lining your eyes, scrubbing furiously at the layers of expensive brand name makeup covering your skin. You wipe off every inch of it until your bare face stares back at you, slightly puffy, blemishes, faded acne scars and all. You feel like you can breathe a little better now.

“Did you really think it’s easy being one of us? Do you think people will notice you if you show up in sweats with Cheetos stains?” Jaemin stares at you incredulously. “This is how it is. I don’t get why you’re throwing it all away like this.”

“And yet, you were all for it when I threw away everything before.”

“Because you asked for it! You asked me to—to make you into someone Donghyuck would date!”

“You don’t get it.” You whirl around on your heels to face him instead of the mirror, and the anger and intensity laced in your voice nearly blows him away. “I like myself the way I am. I never hated myself. I may be insecure about how I look sometimes, but who isn’t? Yeah, I like wearing cherry lip gloss and mascara sometimes. It’s fun trying out new hairstyles and clothes and learning to do better makeup. I like getting dressed up for special occasions. I like doing these things on my own terms. But this? What I’m doing to myself right now? This isn’t the same. Am I supposed to keep up this charade for the rest of my life? If I do eventually go out with Donghyuck, am I gonna have to keep lying to him? To everyone? I want people to like me for me. To actually know me.”

“If this is how you feel, then why would you keep doing this?! If you hate it so much, then why?” He’s frustrated, carding his fingers through his hair as he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re angry over this. You look gorgeous, so what’s the problem?

“Because I liked spending time with you!” you burst out, “I never liked Donghyuck—I liked you. I wanted it to be you. It was fun at first, I did like it at first, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. I can’t be friends with someone who’s ashamed of me.”

There’s a jolt in his heart when he hears your confession, but the second jolt comes quickly afterwards at your last words. Denial is the first stage of grief, and he pales at your final declaration. “What are you talking about? This whole thing is so that Dongh—”

“Oh, please. You can drop the act. This isn’t about Donghyuck anymore. This is about you being too embarrassed to be seen with someone who doesn’t fit your aesthetics.” You air quote the last word for emphasis, and his jaw tightens at that. “You’d rather drop dead than go out with a four like me, right?” You smile sardonically at him. “I may be a four on a seafood diet, but my ears work perfectly fine, Jaemin.”

You heard it all, and Jaemin feels like he is going to throw up. All he can do is scramble and grasp for the last remaining straws, protesting vehemently, “I wasn’t the one who said any of that!”

You laugh humorlessly, “Is that supposed to make it better? You’re better than them because you didn’t say it out loud? You didn’t deny it or defend me either, so what’s your point?

His mouth goes dry, and he opens and shuts it several times. Swallowing harshly, he barely manages to croak out a weak reply. “That’s— I didn’t mean—I only really thought that before I knew you.”

“And that’s just it, isn’t it? You already judged me before you even knew me based on how I look. Even now, you still judge me.” He starts to open his mouth again, but you merely shrug as if you’ve accepted this for all your life, and he closes it meekly, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably, unable to meet your eyes

“That’s okay. I’m used to it. That’s how it is for people like me. I know I’m not someone people fall head over heels for immediately. I’m the one who reaches out to people first. Guys don’t fall over at my feet, wanting to carry my books to class for me. The pretty girls ask me to take their Insta pictures for them. I don’t get free drinks at the bar or invited to all the parties. I’ve never been asked out by a total stranger, and no one writes their number on my cup of coffee,” you say matter-of-factly, a resigned smile on your face, and it has him curling into himself internally, his conscience slowly eating away at him.

“And you know what?” you continue, “That's life. That’s okay because I’m happy with who I am. I like who I am. If I have to give myself up to get Donghyuck or you to like me, then he’s—you—are not the one. I shouldn’t change who I am for a boy—or anyone for that matter.”

“That’s not—We were doing this for you. You wanted… you wanted this makeover. You wanted this.” He’s desperately clutching onto the end of the rope, and you’re holding the scissors to cut it off. You show him another half smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It stopped being about me. It started being about what you wanted, what you liked, what you wanted me to be. I was your charity case, your little Barbie doll.”

You tilt your head to the side, studying the boy in front of you and he silently squirms under your scrutiny. “Tell me one thing, and be honest. Did you even know I existed before Donghyuck mentioned me as a tutoring option? Before you needed me for a grade booster? Would you have liked me then?”

Would you have liked me then? Your question echoes in his mind, and Jaemin freezes, dropping the clothes in his hands. You know. You know he likes you, and the embarrassment creeps up on him in the form of carmine dusting his ears and cheeks, like spilled wine on white linen.

“There are over one hundred students in the class,” he objects. “Sorry for not fighting my way through all of them to find you and have a crush on you sooner.”

Jaemin seems to not realize that he just confirmed his feelings for you aloud, and perhaps, if he had told you this a few weeks ago, you would have been ecstatic and called up Lana and Moon the second he was out of earshot. But this is now, and you’ve grown exponentially since then.

You give him a wistful smile, and as the dread piles up in the pit of his stomach, he knows this is the start of his downfall (or perhaps, he’s already been falling this entire time). He slipped from the pedestal already long ago, and it’s only a matter of time before he hits rock bottom. The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall from grace.

“I sat in front of you diagonally. You asked me to pass notes to my friend. You know, the girl who sat next to me? Alice? The one you asked out and went on a few dates with at the beginning of the semester?” You state the facts calmly, and his eyes widen at that. “It’s okay. But you must’ve remembered that we were in the same group for a presentation last semester, right?”

Jaemin stays silent, and you have your answer. It’s one you’ve known deep down in your heart all this time, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. After all, someone can announce they’re going to punch you, you can even see the strike coming to your gut, but simply knowing doesn’t do anything to ease the painful aftermath.

You chuckle humorlessly, fingers uncurling and recurling into fists as your nails press moon shaped crescents into your palms before you look him straight in the eyes. “I don’t fit into your cookie cutter life or match your rose colored Instagram filters. I don’t have the perfect model figure or the perfect face. I don’t look like the girl of your dreams, and I know that it just fucking kills you inside that you fell in love with me.”

Jaemin flinches, curling in on himself when he finally meets your gaze and finally sees the absolute hell fires of fury and repugnance ablaze in your eyes. You know that he loves you, and he’s ashamed that you’re right. You’re absolutely right.

Why is he so afraid of loving you?

He loves how smart you are, how witty you are, how funny you are, how genuine you are, how you understand every obscure Haikyuu!! reference he makes, how you laugh at his jokes, how you dm him the funniest memes on Instagram, how you wear your purple scrunchie around your wrist during every exam for good luck and how you let him borrow it too. He loves how you treat him as more than just a pretty face, how you actually listen to him and make him feel like what he says matters, how you make him feel different—special—like he doesn’t have to compete with all the other Barbies and Kens out there. He’s much too vain, much too superficial, much too selfish, much too proud to admit it out loud, but he’s in love with you, and yet, he can’t bring himself to love every single part of you.

And the truth of that matter is the ugliest of all.

But there are standards that he has to uphold, why can’t you understand this? He lowered his standards for you, and you still couldn’t meet them. You have the personality already, you are this close to being the ideal girl, and well, you both have to make changes. It’s the prince and princess who live happily ever after, not the prince and the pauper, or god forbid, the ogre (No offense, Shrek). This is real life, and society has unspoken rules. He sacrificed so much for you, he put his reputation on the line, so why couldn’t you do this for him? After all, love always has some sacrifices.

Right?

But when Jaemin looks at you now, there’s everything, but love staring back at him. You look at him like he’s a repulsive piece of chewed gum stubbornly stuck to the bottom of your Steve Madden heel. It strikes a nerve and completely eats him to the core, but he pulls himself upright because nobody talks to him like that, nobody looks at him like that, certainly not someone like you. He invented you, he made you into the next Princess Mia, the next Cady Heron, the next Serena van der Woodsen, and this is how you show your gratitude?

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me. You act like I’m the first person to judge first based on looks. Everyone does it. Am I supposed to strike up a conversation with every girl on the off chance she’s everything I want? Do you think anyone would fall for you immediately when you looked like that? The saying is ‘love at first sight’, unless you’re one to believe in the whole ‘love is blind’ idea, which you clearly do,” Jaemin snaps, sneering as he eyes you up and down. His heart and mind are screaming, crying, begging for him to stop, but his pride dropkicks him headfirst into the hole he dug for himself, raging for him to get the upper hand again.

“How is it my fault for not knowing you’re the whole package when the wrapping doesn’t match the contents?”

The unfiltered words slip out of his mouth, and he immediately regrets it, closing his eyes, but it’s too late. He sees the instant look of devastation that appears on your face, and it hits him like a boxer’s punch to the chest. He starts to backtrack to no avail. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

“I am never going to be enough for you, am I?” you whisper, your breaths stuttering in your chest as your initial sarcasm turns into quiet truths now that eat away at him. “I’m either too much or too little. There’s always going to be something you’ll want to change, something you want to fix.”

“Y/N… I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was an accident. I just—”

Jaemin can’t continue on, his voice trailing off as he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to keep apologizing, he’ll do anything it takes to take back what he just said, but the damage has already been dealt. He’s always known he’s an asshole, sure, but this is beyond anything he’s ever said or done in the past. He just secured the seat of honor in Dante's ninth circle of hell, and there’s no return ticket.

“You just what? You thought it would be okay to say anything to my face just because it’s not up to your standards?”

Jaemin’s face pales. “N-no, I—this isn’t how it's supposed to go, I just—It just slipped out, can we start over?”

A public rejection from any boy or girl would hurt infinitely less than the words Jaemin spat in your face. The things that his friends said before within earshot? You could take it because you couldn’t care less about them at the end of the day. But this? This was coming from someone you trusted, someone you care about, someone you lov—No, you don’t even want to think about that.

Jaemin never loved you. He never even liked you. The harsh reality slaps you like a cold shower in the middle of a winter night, and you want to curl up into a ball under your covers and cry until you fall asleep.

And yet, you will not let him humiliate you any longer. The spell has been broken. Cinderella is back to her rags, and her Prince Charming is nowhere to be found. She’s stuck as a toad that’ll never change. Eyes watering, you inhale sharply, laughing quietly in disbelief before you straighten up and your face hardens.

“Are you actually listening to yourself? You think we can start over? You treat people like they’re disposable, like they’re nothing, and once they don’t match with your theme of the week, you toss them even faster than the time it takes for you to choose an outfit.” Your chest is heaving, and the tears threaten to fall, but you push on, swallowing the lump in your throat. He reaches out for you, and you take a step back, shaking your head.

“You can’t hurt people and expect them to just let it go. I get it, I know I’m not the thinnest, or the nicest, or the funniest, or the smartest, or the prettiest. I know that I’m hard to love. I get it, Jaemin. I’ve always known that.”

You choke on the last sentence, swallowing hard to stifle the hiccup that bubbles up in your throat. “But that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit.”

Rapidly blinking back your tears, you march over to your door and throw it open with such force that the doorknob could have left a dent in the wall. You don’t want to cry, you’ve always been an angry crier, and you desperately want the tears to stop. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry and hearing your confession. He doesn’t deserve any of that. Jaemin doesn’t deserve your tears, and he certainly doesn’t deserve your love.

“Get out.”

Jaemin stares at you, mouth agape like a fish on land. You gesture heatedly towards the outside, choking slightly. “What are you waiting for? I said get out.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Am I a joke to you?” you quietly ask, and his eyes widen.

“No! No, Y/N, you’re not, I jus—”

A single tear manages to escape despite your best, frustrated efforts, and Jaemin instinctively reaches out for you. You swat his hand away, angrily swiping away the stray droplet with the sleeve of your sweater. His heart wrenches in his chest as his hand dangles limply by his side. You’re crying because of him. He caused that, and he feels like the biggest piece of shit in the world.

You refuse to let any more fall, glaring at him through the unshed tears and entirely disgusted with the boy standing in front of you. “Don’t touch me. I’m not crying for you. I’m crying because I’m so angry I wasted all my time on someone who never cared about me.”

That’s not true—I love you, he wants to say, but his mouth refuses to form the words because his pride won’t loosen its grip on his heart. He loves you, he’s in love with you, why can’t you see that?

You steel yourself, taking one shaky breath before looking pointedly at the door and repeating yourself, “Get out. Leave me alone.”

Numbly, he makes his way over to the door, ears ringing. You glower at him, the intensity searing and digging into the side of his face. When he stands outside of your dorm, he struggles to turn around and face you helplessly. Your eyes soften for a moment, and it shoves the dagger deeper into his chest when he recognizes that look. It’s the same look he wore when he first saw you, and the shame that emerges nearly chokes him. The mixture of pity and disappointment painted across your face revolts him entirely, and he feels like he’s going to vomit. Jaemin is utterly humiliated.

Your gaze intensifies once more when you stand up to your full height, stare unwavering and chin raised up. Gripping the doorframe tightly, you drive the final words into his heart like a stake.

“I am too good for you, Jaemin, and I will never love someone like you. I deserve better.”

And for a split second, you almost convinced yourself when you said that.

You shut the door in his face.

Jaemin calls your name through the door several times, desperation ringing clear in his tone, but it falls on deaf ears. Apologies are a fool’s best friend, and you’d be a fool yourself to believe them. Holding your breath, you wait until you hear his footsteps echo down the hallway, until the solitude greets you like an old friend. And at last, you drop the facade and let yourself cry. Back pressed against the door and head bowed, you finally let go until all the tears are gone and you’re gasping for breath, the quiet hiccups and sobs bursting forth and breaking the silence in the same way he broke your heart over and over again.

You love him.

There’s no one to blame, but yourself. In the end, it’s all your fault that you were in this mess. How can you be so stupid? You can put lipstick on a pig, but it would still be a pig. Built up insecurities will bubble up to the surface no matter how much mascara and blush you apply. The warning signs were all there in flashing technicolor, but they were all tied up with shiny ribbons and deceiving perfect smiles. They lit up your usual drab life of blacks, whites, and grays, and you were blinded by the glitz and glamor— blinded by him. It is hard to see the red flags and stop signs through the rose colored Instagram filters. You trusted him and gave him your heart when you should’ve known it’d end like this.

You got greedy and tried to steal the spotlight, and you received it, front and center. You are the joke. You are the punchline, the comedic relief, the center stage of a slapstick comedy show. This is what you get for going off script.

Because you love him.

You were supposed to continue to delude yourself into thinking that you don’t want to find love, that you enjoy being on your own, that you enjoy being single, that you are perfectly content with never experiencing romance instead of facing the cold harsh reality head on: no one sees you as desirable or dateable. And when your friends tell you that you’re not missing out on anything with dating, you were supposed to nod and agree, when secretly, you desperately wish you can experience that for yourself instead of living vicariously through your friends’ love lives or the 3 a.m. scrollings through cheesy romance fanfiction on Tumblr. You’re been fine all these years, haven’t you? You were doing so well living on your own.

But you love him.

It’ll come when you least expect it, that’s what they tell you every time, but what are you to do when you can’t help but expect it your whole life? What are you to do when you so desperately want to know what it feels like to be loved in that way? God, when is it going to be your turn? When is it your turn to daydream about someone and know that they’re daydreaming about you too? When is it your turn to have someone walk you home? When is it your turn to hold hands with someone? When is it your turn to feel the giddy butterflies and experience a good night kiss? When is it your turn to be kissed in the rain? When is it your turn to experience the romance you can only dream about?

How much longer will you have to be patient? How much longer do you have to wait, living in denial over the soul crushing reality of it all? How many more stars do you need to wish upon until you learn to accept the painstaking truth? You weren’t meant to be loved in this lifetime.

God, you love him.

It’s embarrassing when it shouldn’t be. You just want to be touched by hands that care, loved by a heart that beats for you, desired by someone who thinks you are enough. It’s the way you would give up ten years of your life in a heartbeat to experience being the prettiest girl in the room just once and have people look at you. The overwhelming shame washes over you when you never had your first kiss until now with a boy who never cared about you, never went on a date before, never had a boyfriend before, and you have to lie and say it’s by choice when it’s not. It’s not. You have so much love to give, you have so much space in your life to share, you have so much time to spend with that special someone, but the grains of the hourglass are spent waiting and longing for a stranger who will never come.

The thought of it all just makes you sick. It makes you sick that you wish so terribly that someone would just look in your direction for once. For once, you want to be looked at in that way like all the female protagonists experience in the movies. And you know your value shouldn’t be based on desire and objectification, you absolutely know it, but it still hurts when you go out with your friends and you’re the one dancing alone or sitting back and watching the purses. You’re the one standing there by yourself, while every single one of your pretty friends is being approached by someone. It still hurts so fucking bad when you try to put yourself out there, but guys have already moved past you or don’t even acknowledge your existence simply because of your face or a number on a scale. And when he came into your life and gave you one measly ounce of attention, you ran with it when you should have run away. It’s absolutely exhausting, leaving you out of breath and on the verge of throwing up, to chase after someone who never even looked at you, to chase after their attention, praying to god that they’ll one day make you feel like you are worth it, that you’ll finally feel some sort of value.

Forget ever being loved, you weren’t even wanted.

There is no such thing as happily ever after’s for the extras. Girls like you don’t get to star in love stories. Why did you ever think it would end differently?

You love him.

And he ruined you. Even worse, you let him.

You wish you never met Na Jaemin.

x. i can’t go out tonight. *fake coughs* i’m sick.

You would like to give a formal apology to Bella Swan for not understanding why she was so depressed over Edward leaving her for six months and making fun of her. In your defense, you were like nine years old when the movie came out, and you were more interested in Barbies back then (Plus, you were Team Jacob because you wanted a pet dog at the time).

You didn’t even go through a break up, but it sure as hell feels like one.

You probably would continue to wallow in your misery for weeks, clutching onto the only two men you could ever trust in your entire life: Ben and Jerry’s while watching every iconic 90s and early 2000s rom-coms on repeat if it weren’t for your best friends. But enough is enough, and you get that you shouldn’t be spending weeks crying over a boy who hasn’t even spent one second thinking about you. It’s just hard to take that first step back up again when you feel like you tripped and fell all the way down to rock bottom.

And so, you finally let your friends into your shared dorm room, and you definitely do not miss the poorly disguised look of disgust and shock when they see the giant mess on your side of the room (You’re very grateful that Giselle has been staying at her boyfriend’s place for weeks now). It’s an intervention at this point—one that you desperately need, and you know it.

“Okay, give it to me straight,” you sniffle, still wrapped up in your comforter like a giant burrito and clutching onto the ice cream carton like a lifeline. You know that your friends will just rip it off like a bandage, and you have mentally prepared yourself for it. Your voice comes out wobbly still from the tears, and you hate it. “I know I was stupid for letting a guy walk all over me like that. I know if any of you were in this situation, I’d tell you that you’re better than that and to get over him, but it’s just so hard to do it.”

“He who shall not be named is a scumbag, and I’m gonna kill him the next time I see him,” Lana states, pursing her lips together. “I hope he has a bad hair day every single day because I know he’d be screaming, crying, throwing up if he could never get a perfect selfie ever again.”

You choke back a sob, giving her a watery smile. “That would destroy him.”

“Good. Fuck him. Metaphorically, not literally. Why should you care if you are the girl of his dreams or not? Be the girl of your dreams. You’re gorgeous, smart, and funny and he’s just some guy who still doesn’t know how to use the correct ‘your’ in an Instagram caption.”

You can write down a thousand and one reasons why he was the most horrendous, most awful, most vile person to ever grace your life. But at the end of the day, why does it matter? What good would it do? You still love him, and that’s the worst pill to swallow.

“I just—I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Y/N, if you believed that Jaemin wasn’t a shitbag for the past four weeks and all the time before that in his life, then you can believe in yourself right now for two minutes and listen to me,” Lana says firmly, clutching onto your shoulders and forcing you to look her in the eye as she continues on, “Remember the Barbie movie? He’s just Ken. Ken doesn’t have a good day unless Barbie looks at him.”

“Yeah, like channel your inner Gina Linetti. Listen to Chelsea Peretti. ‘Men used to hunt.’ What’s Jaemin doing? He’s pushing twenty and doing aegyo on camera,” Moon chimes in, and Lana nods furiously in agreement before elbowing Yangyang in his rib not-so-subtly. “Contribute to the conversation, Yang.”

“Hold on, I’m thinking,” Yangyang says, pausing in the middle of your room and placing his hands on his hips.

“Oh congrats, I didn’t know you could do that. But stop because you’re not good at it at all,” Moon says, completely ignoring the dirty look he throws at her immediately. The little exchange brings a small smile to your face and it feels nice to laugh. You’ve forgotten how to do that. You miss your friends. You’re grateful for them for not giving up on you when you already have.

“Come on, let’s go see ‘Crazy Rich Asians.’ It’ll be fun. We can watch Lana fangirl over seeing her favorite actor,” Moon encourages you, and Yangyang nods in agreement. “Yeah, she picked a better man after the Jaehyun fiasco.”

“Oh my god, let it go. I didn’t like him that much,” Lana huffs softly, grabbing one of your spare pillows and launching it square into his face in retaliation, and he lets out out a high pitched shriek that makes you giggle.

“Weren’t you gonna go see it with your best friend, Yang?” You ask, glancing over at him and he shakes his head, a slightly sour expression on his face. “Nah, she’s going with Dejun already.”

“So unfortunately, we’re stuck with him now,” Moon says solemnly as Yangyang immediately throws her a dirty look. The look on his face makes you laugh, and it makes you feel a little better and your heart a little lighter.

You shouldn’t have to beg someone to love you; the right person will never make you beg. The right person would never chip away at you, erasing different parts of you, until you fit their picture perfect mold, until there’s nothing left of you. You would never have to call your friends at 4 am, drunk and crying for their validation, praying to whatever higher being is up there for them to take you back. Your friends have never looked at the scars and freckles dotting your skin and suddenly deemed you as unlovable. Your best friend wouldn’t call you fat and point out every single one of your insecurities. You are not unlovable because you decided to eat a third taco or decided to not wear makeup today or didn’t shave your legs. You may fight with your parents and siblings, but never once have you felt unloved by them. Never once did you have to get on your knees and plead for them to love you back.

You know you are worthy of love because your friends and family make it look so easy. They have shown you what love is really like time and time again. You’ve been a shitty friend these past few months, prioritizing a boy over the ones who really matter. They’ve been so patient with you this entire time, and with an open heart, you realize that it is time you finally start properly loving them and yourself too.

You are loved.

xi. that’s so not fetch!

Jaemin slinks out of the lecture hall, noting the dirty looks your friends have sent him from the other side of the room. He’s been standing outside of the classroom before the session starts for the past few weeks in hopes of catching you, looking like a complete creep (and definitely feeling like one). But what’s he to do when you wouldn’t return any of his texts or calls? It’s humiliating, and he feels smaller than an ant under a microscope.

He pretends to leave class early, staking out in the bathroom across from the classroom. Counting down the minutes, he sees the first wave of students pouring out from the classrooms and finally spots you. His heart jumps to his throat, and his hands begin to grow clammy.

You’re back to wearing your loose jeans and basic t-shirts, your favorite purple scrunchie wrapped around your wrist and an old Jansport backpack slung over your shoulder, decorated with pins of all those familiar characters from his favorite anime. Your face is bare, aside from tinted lip balm, and you’re smiling. You’re laughing at something your friend next to you says, and with a sinking heart, Jaemin realizes that perhaps maybe you are pretty in the slightest way.

He finds himself taking one step towards you, then another, maneuvering around the other students rushing to leave. He’s getting closer and closer, if he called out your name, you would hear him. But you wouldn’t stop for him this time. He knows that.

Jaemin is getting closer, just a few more steps until he can just stretch his hand out and tap your shoulder, and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest until a pretty manicured hand grabs his upper arm lightly.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?”

He pauses, turning around and seeing Somi staring back at him in surprise as she continues, “I thought you don’t have any classes at this time.”

“Yeah, I—” he hesitates, glancing over at your retreating figure and Somi follows his gaze, her eyes softening as she lets go of his arm.

“Oh, were you waiting for her? Sorry about that,” she apologizes, pulling away and he shakes his head, shrinking back. Maybe it was for the better that you got away. It’s probably a sign from the universe telling him to let it go.

“No, it’s okay. She doesn’t want to talk to me anyway,” Jaemin admits at last, starting to slink off, and Somi furrows her eyebrows, a puzzled expression gracing her face as she hurries slightly to catch up with him, matching his pace. He exits the building, crushing the graded economics midterm with a red 89 circled at the top in his fist and shoving it haphazardly into the side pocket of his backpack usually reserved for his water bottle.

“What are you talking about? The two of you are practically glued at the hip. She adores you,” she laughs softly, tilting her head slightly as she glances over at him. He ignores her look, continuing on his way off of campus and towards his safe haven: a small dog friendly boba shop snug in between a bookstore and a 24 hour laundromat he frequents more often than he likes to admit.

“I honestly thought you’d ask her out at some point.”

Jaemin winces at that, her light response rubbing salt into his open wounds, stitches torn and bleeding, and he spits out the next words defensively, his pride rearing its ugly head again. “No way. I never liked her like that. She’s not my type at all. Have you seen her?”

“What is wrong with you?” Somi frowns at him, stopping in her tracks, and he halts, unable to look at her and throwing out a dismissive “What?” In her direction.

“Why are you talking about her like that? I thought you liked her,” she answers, staring at him in disbelief, and he curls his fingers into fists, gripping tightly as a multitude of conflicting emotions war inside of him. He starts to walk again, barely glancing over at Somi.

“She was just my tutor. I passed my midterm, so I don’t need to be around her anymore.” He responds weakly, uncurling and recurling his fingers into fists as he desperately tries to stay calm.

It was so much easier to pretend around his other friends. Aside from Jeno, they always took his words at face value, never one to pry. And Jeno would never push him, knowing that he would eventually come to him at his own pace. But Somi? He’s forgotten about how she can be after she’s been so busy with her schedule, missing out from the majority of hang outs for her social work and events, and their class schedules never overlapped. She can spot a lie a mile away. She actually cares. In a way, she reminds him of you, and he can’t bear to meet her gaze anymore.

“She’s your friend,” Somi retorts, following him into the boba shop, briefly stopping to pet the adorable Samoyed wagging its tail near the entrance. “You spent more time with her than any of us, except maybe Jeno. And you weren’t just studying in the library. I’ve seen her on your finsta and close friend stories.”

“Okay, and now she’s not. She’s not my friend anymore,” Jaemin answers sharply, punching his order into the self service machine. “It happens. People stop being friends. So back off, Somi.”

“Jeez, what is your problem?” she snaps back, following him towards the back, settling on a pillow in one of the comfortable nooks converted into a small seating area across from him. “I caught you following Y/N, and now you say you’re not friends?”

Jaemin hesitates, fiddling with one of the decorative pillows in his lap. “We got into an argument.”

“Yeah, but friends fight. You can apologize, right?”

Jaemin is silent.

Somi stares at him, and he wants to curl into himself. It’s the very same look you gave him before you shut the door in his face, and he feels the bile in his throat already. Her voice is quiet. “Jaemin, what did you do?”

“I—,” he whispers, breaking off and clenching his fists. He is already replaying that moment in his head, seeing the look of utter devastation on your face, and he wants to run away. The ugly truth is front and center, and he is unable to ignore it any longer.

“I fucked up, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Jaemin bursts out, burying his face in his hands and unable to face his friend. He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “I said some shitty things to her, some really fucked up stuff.”

“Like fucked up as in messy drunk thoughts or fucked up, fucked up?” Somi says softly, hesitantly, as if she doesn’t want to believe her friend is the worst of the worst. Jaemin’s heart sinks even lower than rock bottom as he continues to hang his head low.

“I…” Jaemin’s voice is less than a whisper as he finally confesses the horrible truth to someone for the first time. His voice cracks as he recalls every single disgusting thing and insecurity he flung back into your face.

“I said that it would be stupid for her to believe in love at first sight, that she wasn’t up to my standards, that it’s her fault, that I was ashamed of her, ashamed that I even liked her because of the way she looked.”

The silence is deafening, and Jaemin feels the same wave of humiliation wash over him as it did on that very night. Somi is speechless, and he can’t bear to look at her, one hundred percent knowing that there would be a raw look of utter disgust and horror on her face because that is the exact way he would look at himself. He sits there in silence as the guilt and shame pile up even higher; he is past the point of wallowing in self pity, already drowning and gasping for breath.

“Jaemin… she was your friend,” she murmurs, gazing at him, mouth agape as the shock finally settles in, and he flinches slightly at the past tense. “She actually cared about you. She made you happy.”

“I know,” he says softly.

“She was the best thing that ever happened to you.” Somi continues quietly.

Jaemin sucks in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip. “I know.”

“Then why?”

Because I was stupid, he thinks silently, Because I am a coward. Because she embarrassed me. She made me feel small. She made me feel insignificant. She made me look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in my life, I absolutely hated what I saw staring back at me.

“I don’t know,” Jaemin whispers, staring down at his lap in resignation and unable to swallow the truth.

He knows.

xii. you can’t sit with us.

You continue to avoid Jaemin in Macroeconomics, choosing to slip into class at the very last minute. You see him waiting in front of the classroom every session for the past three weeks, searching for you, but you opt to go to the professor’s office hours every time before class and end up walking with her to class as she answers your questions about the assigned readings and problems. Alice saves you a seat in the front row, and you never told her but you’re grateful when you realize she must have asked her other friends to sit around the two of you, effectively barricading Jaemin from any attempt at sitting next to you. Finals week comes and goes with the winter break following suit, and you think he has finally given up on any attempt at reaching you.

But life has an unfortunate penchant for bringing up things—or people—you wish to forget when you least expect it. It was supposed to be an ordinary Thursday four weeks into the spring semester, and you’re exiting your last class of the day, tucking your laptop into the cute tote bag you bought from the New York Strands bookstore as you walk across campus.

“Y/N.” Jaemin appears in front of you, and suddenly, all the air in your lungs seem to have been sucked out. It’s almost embarrassing how two months of self progress can be toppled over as easily as a house of cards. Your brain says to hate him, but one glance at him still has you weak in the knees. You take a deep breath, counting to three before walking around and ignoring him entirely.

“Please, can we just talk for five minutes? I’m sorry.” He desperately reaches out for you, and you can see some people starting to take note of the two of you, their gazes on your back.

“Leave me alone, Jaemin.” You continue to walk away, hiking up the strap of your bag higher over your shoulder, desperately trying to quell the stupid colony of butterflies in your stomach that have laid dormant for so long. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please, just five minutes—three minutes—and I’ll leave you alone forever. Listen to me,” he says in a quiet tone. It was an order, a request, and a plea all at once.

You pause, scrutinizing him for a few moments before grabbing his arm and dragging him away from prying eyes. You stop on the secluded side of the building underneath the magnolia trees before dropping his hand. “You have two minutes. Talk.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Good to know you’re self aware. You’re finally experiencing some character growth.”

Jaemin grimaces at your stony expression. “Okay, that was deserved. I truly am sorry, Y/N. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, and I’m an asshole who took advantage of you. You do deserve better. You deserve someone better than me. But I want to be that person. You make me a better person.”

You stay quiet, and Jaemin fidgets around. “Is that… is that okay? I know it’s selfish of me, but—”

“You’re right, that is selfish of you.”

Jaemin falls silent at that, face flushing before he speaks up meekly, “Can’t we start over? Try again?”

In that moment, you truly pity the boy in front of you. The lost expression on his face tells it all as he desperately clutches onto whatever lifeline you’re willing to toss out. But he’s causing you to drown, and you need to cut the cord and put yourself first for once. Maybe you can change him. But you can’t do this to yourself again.

You take a deep breath and pinch yourself, reminding yourself that this is the same boy who broke your heart because it wasn’t pretty enough for him. “There is no trying again. You never tried, and I’m done trying for you. Jaemin, you don’t love me. You’ve never felt that way towards me.”

“Yes, I have! I do! I really do,” he protests, and you shake your head, taking a step back. He starts to take one step forward towards you and hesitates, staying in his original spot. Your gaze is cold, and he finds himself wishing that you would look at him in the way you used to.

“You love the idea of me: the one you built up in your head,” you say, tone growing quiet. “But I’m nothing like her. To some degree, I think I might be the first genuine connection you ever made with a girl. You liked the way I felt about you and how I acted for you. I changed everything about myself for you, I would’ve followed you anywhere, I would’ve done anything for you, and you took advantage of that. You took advantage of the fact that I love you.”

You may not truly know what love is, but you know it’s something he never gave you. It stings, knowing that even after all of this, you still secretly, desperately long for the type of love you know will always be out of your reach. A part of you wants to believe him, but this time, you listen to your mind instead of your heart.

Jaemin’s head shoots up at your confession, eyes widening in belated realization, and you curl your lips inward, biting your lower lip. You love him. You love him, he now knows, and to your surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Three steps forward and two steps back is still one step in the right direction.

“One day, you’re gonna find someone who’s finally enough for you—someone who’s worth making pancakes for,” you say wistfully, pausing for a minute before gathering the courage to continue.

“And you’re gonna fall in love with them. Like really love them. You’re gonna love them so much that you’ll try your hardest to be enough for them. You’re gonna try so fucking hard to be the one they want, the one they love, that you’ll do anything for them. You’ll even change yourself for better—or for worse.” You grip the strap of your tote bag even tighter, a dull pang in your heart making its appearance, and Jaemin winces, lowering his eyes as the regret and guilt pools into his stomach.

“But sometimes, it won’t be enough. It’s not going to be enough,” you continue, swallowing hard. “And it’ll never be enough for them. You’re willing to move heaven and earth for them, but they won’t notice. Or maybe they don’t even care. No matter how hard you try to love them, it won’t matter unless they want you. Unless they choose you. And it’ll hurt like hell. It’ll hurt every single time you see them, every time you hear them, every time you think of them.”

Your voice softens, shaking slightly as you take in a wavering breath before pushing forward. “And when it hurts, you’re going to think of me. You’re going to remember me because that’s when you’ll understand what it feels like. That’s when you’ll know how I felt. How it feels to not be enough. How it feels to have your heart ripped to shreds by someone you care about—someone you love.”

His heart drops, and you give him a wistful smile before it quickly disappears, and your expression schools into one of indifference. You continue to walk forward confidently, brushing past his frozen figure. You see your friends waiting for you on the other side of the lawn, and you look over your shoulder at Jaemin one last time, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself.

“And you know what? I hope to fucking god it hurts you as much as you hurt me.”

The world continues to spin, you keep moving forward, and he remains rooted in his spot, unable to look away from you. There are so many Barbies and Kens out there, so many more Na Jaemins who will come into your life and sweep you off your feet, and you’ll make them feel special and more than a pretty face, he belatedly realizes, he’s disposable and so easily replaceable, but there’s only ever going to be one you.

As he watches you walk away, Jaemin thinks he is starting to understand.

EPILOGUE.

Life likes to play cruel jokes, and the senior year gives you the most hilarious one of all in the form of your final capstone project. Last you heard about Jaemin, he had switched his major to pre med (which was ironic to you since that field would require him to care about other people, which he clearly proved to be incapable of). However, your university decided to implement a cross collaboration between the various schools, and it’s just your luck that you find yourself paired up with Jaemin. Giving him a tight smile as you take a seat across from him in the library room he reserved, you take out your laptop.

Jaemin had asked earlier if you wanted to request a new assigned partner, but you highly doubt any professor would switch up a pairing on account of one person being guilty of being the greatest asshole to ever exist (Plus, you’ll come across many guys like him in your field of work, so you might as well start building up your tolerance now).

It is the final time you will meet up with him before the big presentation, and the two of you work together in silence, only breaking it to discuss the project topic. It is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, settled somewhere in between—kind of like a purgatory for relationships. You’ve stopped thinking about him a while ago already, but seeing someone who once was a part of your life always brings back memories, whether wanted or not.

“I met someone.”

Jaemin breaks the ice, unable to hold it back any longer. He feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn't get this off of his chest. There is a slight pause in your writing before you resume, but he knows you are listening.

“I met her after… after our…” He trails off. He doesn’t know what to call it—what the two of you had. An almost relationship. “… After us.”

You continue to write, taking note of several points to be discussed based on your slide. He puts down his pen, clasping his hands together as he fiddles with one of the rings wrapped around his fingers.

“I made her blueberry pancakes.”

You sharply inhale for a brief millisecond before you jot down another bullet point. One, two, three, four, five bullet points until you can breathe normally again. You’re twenty two years old, but you suddenly feel like you’re eighteen again. You sometimes loathed your younger self, but because of her, you learned so many things (Forgiveness is one of them).

“I don’t know what else to do, except keep making her pancakes.” Jaemin sits there idly for a few moments, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil, before he laughs derisively, “She’s in love with my best friend. She never told me, but I can just tell.”

There’s another pause from him. Staring down at his notebook, he swallows hard, the lump in his throat never fully going away. His voice cracks as he whispers out his question:

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

Your pen stops moving across the paper, dropping to the side. There’s a black scribble from where it fell. You still continue to look at the index card, focusing on the college ruled lines until they become a mosaic blur of blue, black, and white.

“Eventually.”

Your tone is impassive, and his head snaps up at your reply. You pick up the pen again. You don’t look at him, but you know he’s staring at you, an unrecognizable expression in his eyes.

Perhaps, it would have been different if you had met the present day him back then instead. Perhaps, it would’ve worked out. Maybe he would have made another girl fall in love with him, broke her heart, and come out unscathed. Or maybe he would still be the same as his past self if he hadn’t met you. It’s the butterfly effect; you don’t know what would have happened, but you don’t care. Not anymore.

By now, you have mourned him for longer than you have loved him.

“Y/N, you were never hard to love. I was bad at loving. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

And this time, you know he truly means it—that Jaemin truly understands. It is good that he has learned and tried to become a better person. You just wish it didn’t have to come at the expense of you.

Your first love teaches you what love isn’t.

The threads holding the pieces of your heart together these past three years have always been so fragile. Just one tug at the heart strings, and everything unravels so easily, like grains of sand slipping through your fingers. You’ve nearly forgotten what heartbreak feels like, the old wounds opening up for a long forgotten friend that you had prayed you would never meet again.

You discover that it hurts even more the second time around.

“I wish I fell in love with you back then.”

His tone is forlorn, a silent resolution wrapped in happenstance. You continue to write down more notes for your part of the presentation, the soft scritches of your pen against paper almost masking your quiet response, and Jaemin nearly misses it.

“So did I.”

792 notes · View notes

vanillelace · 2 years ago

Text

in my dreams ( park sunghoon )

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; warnings – angst ( death and mentions of it, mentions of blood ), slight fluff ( the entire fic is sort of like flashbacks or rewinds into the reader’s life ), cursing (a lot I think), quite serious problems like cardiac arrest (illness? unsure) and stroke mentions (i don’t mention them in depth)

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; pairings – gwisin park sunghoon x y/n, ending includes a different ship that I wanna keep a surprise :)

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; genre – angst!! the entire fic is sort of supernatural, a bit of fluff, supernatural au, gwisin au (ghost, basically)

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; wordcount – 14364

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; synopsis – “in my dreams, you’re here with me.” in which sunghoon left you long ago, but you still seem to feel him around you, in everything you do.

𝟏𝟏𝟏 ; author's note – DO READ THIS. IN MY DREAMS is a fan-fiction written as a part of the ‘So Ends The Myth’ collab hosted by @svngcore . This fiction in no way represents the myth Gwisin (or spirit) accurately. It is my interpretation of the myth, and I’d advise you to research about it separately. On a lighter note, I’ve been trying to get over my writer’s block so here I am! Also, my new school starts May 22 (it’s 23 January 2022 right now) and I won’t be active from then (not like I am anyway 🤡👍).

FIC BELOW THE CUT.

——— PRESENT DAY

“Y/N, you’re zoning out again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

You bow in apology to your secretary at work, who shakes her head and strides off. “You say this every time, but it doesn’t seem to change. Take a break.”

You hate to admit it, but ever since he left, nothing’s been the same. The effects of the loss on you hadn’t worn off, although it had been over a year since that extremely traumatic night.

The night Sunghoon died.

The night you lost the love of your life.

29 May.

——— 29 MAY, 20XX

“Oh my God, Y/N, you look beautiful.” Sunghoon said, hugging you from behind as you struggled to spray perfume on yourself. “You’re not too bad yourself, Sunghoon,” you grinned, returning his hug as comfortably as you could.

Looking back, that was the last hug you two would share, as you later found out.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Need any help?” He suppressed a laugh as you shook the perfume bottle aggressively, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. Shaking your head in reply, you finally fixed it and sprayed it where it was necessary. Sunghoon chuckled lightly, twirling you around.

“What’s this all for?” You asked him, laughing in return as he spun you around your bedroom. “Ah, why not, eh?” He replied, placing a kiss on your forehead. You blushed, and he smiled. “When do you want to leave? We can leave right now, we’ll reach in quite enough time.”

“Sure, let’s go.”

That would be one of the last times you would see him without blood scarring his beautiful face.

He opened the door for you to make sure you were able to sit comfortably in your dress, being the gentleman he was. As he sat in the driver’s seat, he said, “Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You smiled and replied, “And a very happy anniversary to you too, Park Sunghoon.”

As he accelerated on the nearly empty road, you wondered how you got so lucky. How did you get such a wonderful boyfriend?

That was one thing you had never figured out, and it scared you.

All that happiness dissipated within ten seconds. How was it so easy for that emotion to fly away? Or, rather, get shredded so spectacularly? And to be replaced by fear and anxiety so quickly?

You barely registered when the drunk truck driver swerved into your car. Sunghoon hit the brakes as fast as he could, but he was too late.

Within a snap of fate’s cruel fingers, you lost the one lover you had ever laughed and lived your life with. Even loved.

Sunghoon had made sure the impact of the crash would be felt on his side of the car, and the only major injuries you had suffered were mental. Other than that, you had been bruised and scratched.

Sunghoon, on the other hand? Not so much. Or, so less, rather. The glass that had reluctantly broken had pierced into his head, and he had broken a major part of the right side of his body. You were in a daze as approaching vehicles stopped, and some of them helped you and Sunghoon out of the car. The drunk driver had sped away in fear, and you really hadn’t cared at the time.

The only thought in your head was that you lost Park Sunghoon.

The love of your life.

And everything would never, ever be the same.

You didn’t feel the tears that streamed down your face, or the pain you felt thanks to the minor cuts on your arm. You were numb. The ambulance arrived and carried the two of you away, but it had barely reached the hospital that the doctors in the vehicle pronounced him dead.

The one thing they (very wrongly) didn’t pronounce dead was your heart, and all your emotions with it.

——— PRESENT DAY

“Earth to Y/N?”

“Yeah, yeah, Yunjin, I’m here,” you tell Huh Yunjin, your closest friend and current roommate. She shakes her head and sighs, sitting next to you on the sofa.

After work, you had taken the bus back home, as you usually did after the accident. You never set foot in a car, and it had been so long. Yunjin kept trying to get you to move on, that is, sit in a car, but she failed miserably every time.

“Y/N, you need to go to therapy. Please understand what I’m saying. It must have been so traumatizing, which I know, so you need to try and heal. You’re letting it disrupt your life. I understand that he was the love of your life. I’m not trying to be insensitive. But please, he wouldn’t have wanted you to live your life out like this.”

“Well, he hopefully didn’t want to die either, but here we are, Yunjin.”

Yunjin bites her lip, and you realize you may have been just a bit too harsh on her. She’s only trying to help you, after all.

“I’m sorry for acting this way, Yunjin, but I’m trying. Please let me try my way. It’s probably difficult to see me like this, wasting away, but really. Sunghoon was all I wanted to be with, apart from you. You have the love of your life, Yunjin. I don’t, and it hurts so much. I’m not saying I’m jealous of you, but don’t you think I don’t know what I’m missing out on? Nothing will be the same even if I try dating someone else. As for the therapist, Yunjin, do you think the newspapers will stay silent if they see me off to the therapist? My mom will say, ‘Ah, Y/N, our failure of a daughter, now off to the shrink? Good. Waste of time.’ And the newspapers will reflect the same.

“Look, I’m trying. If I could have arranged to see a therapist in private, I would’ve. But with my dad ill, I’m all the business has left. Mom has to take care of Dad. She doesn’t have a choice. Once I get a break from work, I’ll definitely work on myself. I swear.

“Thanks for caring, Yunjin.”

“Y/N!” Yunjin cries out, seeing your nose bleed. “Argh, not again…” you sigh, as Yunjin runs for a tissue. The nosebleed problem isn’t quite major, but it is rather annoying. Especially in such situations. Extremely inconvenient.

“Anyways,” you begin, waiting for Yunjin to continue. “Ah, Y/N, why can’t you just try to ask someone for help, just for once! It’s not going to harm you, or your work. Trust me. Please.”

“Yunjin, we have the same conversation daily, but what good comes out of it? Breathe. I’m working on it. Try meditating. It really helps!”

“Y/N, you use humor to cope. It’s not healthy. Please.”

“Let’s end this right now. I’m too tired to fight. Yunjin, let’s have a meal and sleep. Believe me, I’ll just let the bad times pass by at the company and then get in touch with a therapist.”

You both know that might never happen, but Yunjin decides it’s an okay-ish excuse to begin eating, knowing that nothing ever good comes out of fighting.

—————— 🦢

The nightmares stopped two months ago, but of course, sleep is a tiring process for you. Sunghoon’s comforting arms usually helped you sleep, but that is out of the question now. All you can do is silently fade into the darkness, allowing it to swallow you whole, no matter what you may dream of. To avoid the nightmares, you never think about the accident at night, and always convince yourself, like a fool, that Sunghoon is out on a business trip of some sort, and he will return tomorrow, of course he will. He loves you, so why won’t he?

He loves you, but he’s dead.

You continue deluding yourself, disapproving of all the unhappy thoughts at night, embracing them during the day. During the day, nightmares can’t haunt you. At night, they attack you from every direction, every angle, battering and bruising you until you are exhausted. But on the bright side, it’s been a while since you’ve had a nightmare.

And God, are you thankful.

As your mind runs through all of this, you twist and turn in your bed, willing yourself to fall asleep for once. The room is dark, just the way you like it, and there’s nothing that you can mistake for an entity of any sort. No chairs with clothes on them that make you wonder if it really is a chair (is it though?) or lights that successfully fail to be stable (your mental health is stabler, which is making a statement).

So why do you feel something on your cheek?

A lover’s caress? The devil’s touch? You’re unsure, but you don’t know how to speak.

Then you see him.

Park Sunghoon.

Definitely the devil’s touch, you think to yourself.

Park Sunghoon, the love of your life, floating leglessly. The same ethereal beauty in all of his features, but more… frightening, yes, that’s the word. Frighteningly handsome. But something’s off.

He’s dead.

If he’s dead…

Who is this?

You want to shriek, scream, call for help, but an invisible object muffles your voice, disallowing you from speaking a single word.

“Y/N…”

Sunghoon, Sunghoon, you’re dead, but if not, give me a sign that this is you, you desperately think.

“Y/N, it’s me. I can speak. But I’m not alive. I can’t stay in the real world for too long in a visible form, so I will leave you now. Wait for me to communicate with you. Please don’t do anything fatal to yourself. I have seen your every thought, and I know what you are capable of doing to yourself just to be united with me. Stop. I need to go now. Stay… a… live…”

You watch as he fades away with his mystical voice, unable to believe anything.

The one thing you’re sure of is that you definitely need to sleep.

And you definitely should take Yunjin up on her offer of a therapist.

—————— 🦢

“Yunjin, recommend some therapists for me, please,” you mumble as Yunjin prepares breakfast for the two of you.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard what I said.”

“Yeah, but I think I can hear it again!” Yunjin turns and smiles at you, and you sigh. “Therapists. Please.”

“Finally. May I ask what convinced you to make this decision?” Yunjin asks sweetly, squeezing some lime into what you assume is a salad.

The previous night’s chaos runs through your head, and you think to yourself. If I even suggest that such a thing happened, she’ll practically kick me out of here to visit a psychiatrist immediately. Maybe I can cut down on the incidents.

“Oh, I thought through our conversation and came to this conclusion, because I realized you were right.”

“We’ve had the same conversation, like, every day. What changed this time?”

“I.. erm.. I opened my mind to your words..?”

You know Yunjin can’t be so easily swayed, but she accepts it with an inclination of her head. “Sure, I’ll accept that for now, until you decide to tell me what really happened. Anyways, I think I’ll leave for work now, have your breakfast, and drink some water. I’ve packed your lunch, you don’t need to cook, but dinner’s on you. Bye! Have a nice day, Y/N.”

“You too, Yunjin. What’re you doing at work today?”

Yunjin works as an influencer, a job so flexible it suits Yunjin perfectly. She usually vlogs, but she produces music occasionally, too. You’ve heard her voice so often, but it’s very, very difficult to find it dull. Her voice has a soothing aura about it, and when she hits each note, you’ll think to yourself, yes, this is how music should be sung.

So it’s not very surprising when you check her YouTube to see that she has over ten million subscribers. Her channel, Jenaissante, is popular for the down-to-earth vlogs she creates, and you occasionally feature on it, too.

As heir to one of the biggest record labels in the industry, ZEN Entertainment, you have a public image to maintain, and God, does it get stressful. You’re an only child, and your father is in a critical condition. Your mother is quite harsh, but you know it’s all for your own good. She is the only reason you have such a strong image in public, and the reason your father is still alive.

——— JANUARY 20XX

A few months before Sunghoon’s death, the two of you were on your way to your family home. But before you were even home, your mother called.

One call that changed how your life was.

“Y/N! It’s your father, he had a cardiac arrest, we’re at the hospital, meet us there. You know the one. The doctors aren’t sure he’ll make it. Please come as soon as you can.”

Your eyes went wide, and you turned to Sunghoon, who was extremely confused.

“Y/N, what is it?”

You remained silent, still trying to process everything. “Y/N! Answer me, please!”

“Sunghoon, it’s my father. He’s had a heart attack. I’ll drive, switch places.”

“No, Y/N, I’ll drive. You’re in shock. Just send me the location. What did your mother say? Will he be fine?”

“The doctors aren’t sure if he’ll make it, Sunghoon. I sent you the location. Please, let’s get there as fast as possible.”

By some miracle, he made it. Your mother was in tears. That was one of the days you saw her completely broken.

——— FEBRUARY, THE SAME YEAR

That happiness didn’t last for long. The next month, your father had a stroke. He was left unable to remember a major part of his life, and almost paralyzed. His communication was limited in terms of spoken language, but he communicated just fine through other means. He remembered you, your family, Yunjin, but couldn’t recollect Sunghoon’s presence in his life. He remembered his company, but was unable to run it, leaving its burden on you.

You weren’t angry about it. It wasn’t his fault. Your mother didn’t want you to do his work, because the industry was incredibly toxic, and words were flung around carelessly at each and every setting. But did you have a choice?

After your father had a stroke, your mother had to look after him, but she did attend board meetings whenever she could online. Sunghoon helped you as much as possible, but he had his own work to do, too.

Yunjin assisted in your work wherever she could. The marketing aspect of your work was done by Yunjin on behalf of you, because she had a better idea of it.

When Sunghoon died, however, Yunjin took over your work with your secretary, putting a hold on her own life for you. Your mother attended board meetings and you looked after your father. He was rapidly healing, but he did have the occasional loss in memory. His paralysis would always be present, but he was regaining use of his speech, making life easier for you and your mother.

He was trying his best to make it easy for you, because your mother explained whom you had lost. At the funeral, you and your family met with Sunghoon’s parents, who were heartbroken.

“We don’t have any reason at all to blame you. I just hope you heal, honey, because that’s what our son would’ve wanted.” Mr Park was extremely understanding, and so was his wife. After that statement, you apologized profusely and bowed, and Mrs Park, unable to speak, hugged you tightly.

That was another day your own mother was completely broken, seeing her daughter grieving.

—————— 🦢

Your brain swimming with thoughts, too many thoughts, you leave your house, heading into work. After a few months, you took over from Yunjin again, allowing Yunjin to go back to her work. Your secretary was like a sister to you at the time, and continues to be one.

“Welcome, Y/N, what would you like to drink?”

“Relax, Kazuha, I’ll prepare something for you instead. What do you want?”

Kazuha grins, “A coffee would be good. You know my type, right?”

“Yeah, no sugar, black coffee, whipped cream on the side. Quite weird, but okay, I guess.”

Kazuha thumps your back in indignation, walking off to pick up your mail. You laugh and go to the kitchen, bumping into one of your artists, Nishimura Riki.

“Oh, hi, Riki, how come you’re at the company today?”

“Ah, Ms Y/N, hello,” he bows, and smiles. “My vocal trainer asked me to meet here, he wants to try recording a demo.”

“Interesting! What time? I’ll see if I can make it, my schedule isn’t that busy today.”

“In an hour or so. Hope to see you there, ma’am.”

You smile and bow, and leave the kitchen with the coffees in hand. “Hey, Kazuha, what’s this I hear about Ni-ki recording a demo? Didn’t he release a whole album, like, last month?”

Kazuha nods, sipping her coffee. “Yeah, he did, but if I’m not wrong, he’s taking a break from work for two months on behalf of his exams. He’s about to finish an early bachelor’s degree in Japanese and also in Economics.”

“Oh, wow! That’s great. How come I wasn’t aware of this?”

“Oh.. this was approved when Yunjin was working with me. I gave you a file on it, remember?”

“Ah. Must’ve slipped my mind. Sorry. What’s on our schedules today?”

“You’ll be meeting with the rival company’s CEO for lunch in three hours. I’ll be

meeting with an artist from another company whose contract is going to end soon to see if she’ll join us. You asked me to check when her contract ends, remember? Hanni Pham?”

“Ah, yes. Isn’t she in a group, though?”

“They might join us. I’ll check. If she and her group joins us, we’re in for a good time at the company.”

“I soundly agree, Kazuha. Good luck getting them to join us, though. When exactly do they get to renew their contracts?”

“Around four more months. May, I think.”

Ah. Shit.

“You okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, definitely. You’re leaving right now?”

“I have to, it’s far away. Hopefully this meeting goes well. Take care!” Kazuha crosses her fingers and leaves the room, and you wave after her.

Get it together, Y/N. This is an important part of your time as CEO of ZEN Entertainment. If NewJeans joins you, you’re set for life.

It will be two years then. Will you be able to manage to stay under control?

—————— 🦢

“Hello, Ms Y/N.” The producer hops to his feet and bows, and so does Ni-ki. “Hello. I was curious about the production, which Ni-ki told me about. So I’m here to just watch. I’ll be doing my work, but I’ll be paying attention. Go about your work and pretend I’m not there!”

The producer nods, and goes back into discussion with Ni-ki. “I’m thinking we do something from your usual concept. What we’ve seen from you is a… dark theme, but we can try something brighter this time. Who’s to say that you can’t do a cute concept?”

“I actually agree. Let’s go for it. So do we go with the lyrics I provided, or the one the lyricist did?”

“I think we can go with a mix. Let’s work on that for the next hour or so. We also have a backing track ready, but I might have to get that modified. We won’t be doing a ballad, right?”

“No, I don’t feel like that’s going to suit me very much.”

“Okay then. Let’s get to work on the lyrics. ma’am, would you like to oversee this? Since Ni-ki wrote a lot of potential lyrics.”

“Sure.” You get up, walking over to where there are multiple sheets of words written in messy handwriting.

“Ignore the mess, please. I work better when I’m in a rush.” Ni-ki smiles, sorting the whole mess out. “It’s fine, don’t worry. You’re a very young artist. I’m honestly glad to see you comfortable with creating your own music. It goes a long way, believe me.”

“Thank you, I’m honored,” Ni-ki bows, and pins some sheets together. “Uhm, ma’am, I need to take this call, will it be fine if you’re here? It’s a personal emergency.”

“Don’t worry, take the call. I’ll be here.”

The producer rushes out, speaking in his native language incredibly quickly. “Anyway, I like the look of these lyrics. I think you’ve had a… messed up, partying teen vibe with some vampires in the mix?”

“Yeah, indeed. I honestly didn’t know where the concept would go. So I came up with these. A sudden change in the concept will shoo some of my fans away. But I think I’ll gain some fans too. That’s beneficial to both me and the company, so.. yeah.”

“Valid point. So you’re going for a teen love concept now?”

“Yep. I’m not boasting, but I am very young. So I should go with such concepts, because as a teenager myself, it’s easy for me to represent such topics.”

“Right. You are very smart, Ni-ki. I like it. You have a mind made for such work.”

“Thank you.”

As you both settle in comfortable silence, you read the lyrics carefully. The album Ni-ki is working on revolves around the theme of young love, right from the meeting to the goodbyes. You can’t help but think of your goodbye to your first love, but you shake away the thoughts.

«It was a pretty sunset,

We didn’t want the moment to end

Right from the hello, you caught my eye

And now I just can’t say goodbye

To you, the one I like

If this is young love, I don’t want it

To you I can’t bear to bid a farewell

If it’s you I’ll love, please don’t be my first

I know how first loves end, all too well

Is this what young love is?

After that day, we met often

We both knew we had fallen

The first handshake, you caught my eye

And now I just can’t say goodbye

To you, the one I like

If this is young love, I don’t want it

To you I can’t bear to bid a farewell

If it’s you I’ll love, please don’t be my first

I know how first loves end, all too well

Is this what young love is?

Just stay a while, stay right there

Maybe then we’ll last forever

Just don’t fall for me, let’s not be our firsts

We both know how this is going to end

If this is young love, I can’t have it

To you, one day, I’ll say goodbye

I can’t have you, if you’ll be my first

Can’t bear to see you cry

Is this what young love is?

This is what young love is»

“Ni-ki, this is amazing. Seriously.”

“Thank you. I’m going to combine it with the lyricist’s bridge, though. I don’t like the one I wrote.”

“You can do what you want, but this is really good. I like the ending. If you play it right, this can be a masterpiece. You need to conclude it well, so that the listener bursts into tears.”

“I don’t exactly want my fans to cry—“

“But that’s the sign of a good song —“

“So I’ll have to make them cry.” Ni-ki finished, pursing his lips together.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You grin, lounging in the chair.

“Okay then. The goal is now to make people cry. Good.” Ni-ki says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Are you being sarcastic to your boss?” You ask teasingly, and he aggressively shakes his head.

“Oh, no, of course not.” Ni-ki hastily retracts his words, and you laugh.

Suddenly, something catches your eye. “Ni-ki, is this yours?”

“How can it be? It has a name engraved on it. Could be the producer’s.”

He takes the briefcase that you’re holding to check the name.

“Uhm.. ma’am, it says Park Sung-hoon on it..”

You blink. “What?” “Yes. And I know for a fact the producer is not Park Sung-hoon. Oh, you know what? Could be the choreographer’s. Park Ji-sung. Maybe we’re reading it wrong—“

“Give it to me. Let’s see if we’re really wrong.”

You snatch the briefcase and see the name engraved in it. “It’s Park Sung-hoon, alright. And I’m also sure that I don’t have a single employee with that name who visited here today. I’ll announce this.”

“But maybe you should open it? Just in case they have documents of themselves. It would make it easier for you.”

“Right. Smart idea.” You say, unzipping the case.

And immediately you drop it.

“It’s my dead boyfriend’s.”

—————— 🦢

You had a panic attack after that little incident, and Ni-ki had to take you to the on-hand nurse, meant for the artists.

“You fine, ma’am?” The nurse asks, concerned at the expression your face holds. “Yeah, I am. Thank you. Where’s Ni-ki?”

“He’s outside.”

You get up to meet him, and he immediately gets up from the chair he was sitting on, seeing you exit consciously. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. But I am so confused,” you mumble, lost in thought.

Am I going crazy? Are these signs?

“You aren’t crazy,” Ni-ki assures you, as if he read your mind. “It’s a normal reaction that an average human would show. Don’t worry. You worry too much, and this was just a small side effect of that worry. Go home, and get some rest. Believe me. You need it.”

You nod absentmindedly and wave at Ni-ki, who waves back with a look of concern, knowing nothing in what he said went into your head.

You walk on, in your own train of thoughts, and you don’t even notice when you walk into another employee. “Argh—“

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, are you fine?” You ask, helping the unknown person up. “Yes, I am, thank you, ma’am,” he mumbles in a deep voice, gathering his papers. “This may seem rude, but who are you?”

“I’m actually a choreographer, my name’s Park Ji-sung. And I know who you are, obviously. Nice to meet you.” He answers, smiling and offering his free hand for you to shake. You do so, and help him organize his papers. “What are these for, if I may ask?”

“These are actually my personal documents, I always carry a set of them with me just in case.”

“Documents, as in?”

“Passports, medical records, etc.”

“I see. And these?”

“One of my artist's songs. In fact, here he comes. Ni-ki, hey.”

“Oh, hi, Jisung, I see you met Ms. Y/N. ma’am, he choreographed my hit song, Sweet Season.”

You remember vaguely that the song went viral for its unique choreography, and the footwork being incredibly detailed. People were also talking about the up-and-coming choreographer, but you didn't know at the time who he was at all.

“Oh! That’s great. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Park. I’m so glad you’re in charge of Ni-ki’s new song. It’s going to be great.”

“You’ve seen the lyrics?”

“Yes, and approved. We were in the studio not too long ago.” You smile, and Ni-ki nods. “Yeah, then she had an emergency to attend to, so I walked her off.” He adds, and Jisung nods his head slowly.

“I see. It’s been really nice talking to you, ma’am, but I really have to get started on Ni-ki’s choreography. If you’ve approved the song, I’ll assume that it’s going to be released. Ni-ki, let’s go. Goodbye, Ms. Y/N.”

“Bye ma’am!” Ni-ki waves, and you call after them, “You guys can call me by my name!”

“Bye, Y/N!” Jisung turns and bows, then rushes to the practice room. You smile, getting back to your office.

Ni-ki and Jisung seem fun.

—————— 🦢

“Kazuha! Hi! How was the meeting?”

“WE HAVE THEM ON BOARD!”

Kazuha runs up to you and hugs you tightly, and you pat her back. “Let’s celebrate. Are you free after work? Dinner’s on me back home with Yunjin, so I would much rather take you guys out. You’ve seen my cooking, haven’t you?”

Kazuha shudders jokingly, and smiles. “Definitely free. Will it be just the three of us?”

“I might invite Ni-ki and his choreographer. I feel like we’ll all get along really well.”

“Okay. That’s fine.”

“Come with me after work, you can come over to my house and get ready with me and Yunjin. You’re done with all your meetings, right? Go home, and pack some clothes.”

“Okay, then I’ll come back to the office, and leave with you?”

“Yep.”

“Alright.”

“Pack clothes to stay over, just in case we get back late.”

“Alright. Also, have you met with the CEO already?”

Shit.

“Y/N!”

“I’M LEAVING! GOING RIGHT NOW!” You hurriedly grab your coat and purse and rush out of your office, going to the nearest bus stop and sitting in a corner.

“Ma’am, I’m on my way. My apologies, I didn’t mean to be this late, but an emergency popped up.”

“No worries, ma’am. I’m waiting. When you reach, ask for Yoo Ji-min.”

“Sure, I will. See you there.”

You disconnect the phone, sighing in relief. Yoo Ji-min is the CEO of MY Entertainment.

Jimin has a nice personality, and the two of you aren’t really on bad terms. However, you do sometimes have friendly arguments over who gets to scout whom. You still haven’t reached a conclusion on that argument, but for the sake of being civil, the two of you agreed to push it under the rug for now.

As you reach the stop, you exit the bus, looking around for the restaurant that Jimin has reserved for the meeting. “Hi, table for two under the name Yoo Ji-min?” You ask the receptionist, slightly out of breath, who nods, leading you to a table in the back.

“Jimin!”

“Y/N!”

She gets up from her seat, looking as pretty as ever in a formal black dress. “Nice to see you. So glad you could make it. How’ve you been?”

“I’m okay, Jimin. It’s great to see you, too. How are you doing lately? I hear that you’ve been busy, based on the amount of work your company has been doing.”

“Yeah, I’m good. But busy indeed. Honestly, the amount of time I’ve been spending at the company is more than the time I spend at home. Super hectic, but that's fine. As a CEO, that’s bound to happen.”

“Indeed. You should probably take a break, though.”

“And let you steal the show?” Jimin laughs teasingly. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Jimin. Thought we were over this by now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyways, I didn’t call you here on business. I just called you to meet, as acquaintances.”

“Really? And you don’t want anything from me?”

“Nope. I owe you many favors, but I just can’t seem to get the opportunity to repay them. I should be asking you if you need anything.”

“I don’t. Maybe a break would be nice though.”

Jimin laughs with you, nodding her head. “Maybe we can take a break together.”

“Someday, when everything is back to normal at our companies. But I think we would have to be friends for that.”

“You made a good point there, Y/N. Well, I do want to be friends with you, but it might get odd at times. Do you know, I barely have any friends?”

“I do, actually. This industry gets so lonely, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Minjeong, Ning and Aeri are the only people helping my sanity at the moment, to be quite frank with you.”

“Yunjin and Kazuha too, although Kazuha isn’t so much a friend as a sister to me. And Yunjin is practically family to even my parents now.”

“I could say the same about Ning. Although I’m getting to know the other two better now, thankfully.”

The waiter comes over to take your orders, and the two of you order non-alcoholic drinks. The waiter nods and walks away, leaving you two alone again.

“I just had a great idea. How about we girls get together? Just us? You, me, my three friends, Yunjin and Kazuha?”

“Sounds good, but I’ll get back to you on that. I have some stuff going on with some of my artists, but that should be over in a month or two. What about then?”

“I agree, my work should have died down by then. Let’s do it. Should we swear on it?” Jimin asks jokingly, and you nod, mock seriously. “Let’s.”

The two of you laugh lightly, and enjoy the rest of the meeting with small talk.

—————— 🦢

That was awkward at the start, but Jimin really is nice. One day, when we both quit our jobs, I hope we stay friends. You think to yourself, entering your office with your head down.

“Hi, Ms. Y/N! Ms. Nakamura informed us that you invited us to dinner?”

You nod, seeing Kazuha, Ni-ki, and Park Jisung in your office, and answer Ni-ki. “Yeah, I did. We just signed an important contract, and I felt like inviting you guys for fun. Don’t think of this as a conflict of interest, but I would like to get to know you guys better.”

“I wouldn’t think of it as anything else, but we know you’re friends with Ms. Kazuha over here.” Jisung says in his signature deep voice. “Right!” Ni-ki agrees, and you smile. “Anyway, you guys can meet us there, it’s the trending new restaurant everyone’s obsessed about. I got us a reservation there.”

“Wait, really?” Kazuha asks, slightly surprised. “Yeah, I just never asked you to book a table,” you laugh at Kazuha’s expression.

After a bit of discussion of the plans, the boys leave and you and Kazuha head back to your place, where Yunjin is waiting to pounce on you.

“Y/N! How was the lunch I packed for you?” She asks sweetly, and your heart drops. “Oh.. eh.. it was nice, but since I couldn’t eat all of it, I gave it to the choreographer, Park Jisung.” Kazuha, to her credit, says nothing and smiles furtively at you from behind Yunjin.

“Ah, isn’t he coming with us? I’ll definitely check with him.”

As soon as Yunjin leaves, you stuff the rice she had packed for you in the morning into a different box and hide it away in the refrigerator. Kazuha giggles and walks away, zipping her lips as a sign of secrecy.

The three of you get dressed, and help each other with your hair, makeup and what-not. You leave just in time in order to reach the restaurant to claim your reservation, and when you reach, you see the guys already seated at the table.

“We assumed that the table would be under your name,” Jisung shrugs. “You assumed well, I suppose, because otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Yunjin says, sitting down. “I’d assume you’re Park Jisung. So, tell me, how did you like the rice I prepared? Y/N gave it to you, right?”

“Yes, she did. I loved it. The spice, however, was not up to my level,” Jisung smirks. “Oh. So she did give it to you. Fine, Y/N, I believe you.” Yunjin accepts defeat and moves on to talk to Ni-ki about his exams.

Kazuha also gets involved in the conversation, leaving you and Jisung to talk. “I owe you one,” You say to Jisung, who smiles. “Yeah, you do. You’d gone out for a meal with Yoo Ji-min, right? It’s all over the news.” He says casually, and you frown.

“Is it? Strange. What are they saying?” “You don't need to know, but they basically say you’re out.. having fun, and they can’t help but wonder about some things. Forget it, you really don’t have to know.”

“No, tell me. What do they wonder about?”

“Ms. Y/N—“

“Go ahead.”

“They’re wondering if you already moved on from..”

“Oh.”

Jisung scrutinizes your micro expressions, and he pats your hand. “Ma’am, you don’t have to worry about what they say. I just believe it’s in your best interest if you know.”

“I see. Thank you for informing me. I won’t comment on them, of course. Best to let the fire die down by itself. Besides, she’s a rival CEO. Even if I become friends with her, no one would believe us, quite frankly.”

“You’re right! See, this is why you shouldn’t bother with this. They just believe what they want to.”

“I genuinely hate the press sometimes.” “Everyone in the industry does, ma’am.” He replies. “You don’t have to call me ma’am, Mr. Park.”

“In that case, you don’t have to call me Mr. Park, Y/N.”

“Right you are, Jisung.”

And so the evening goes on, and everyone gets along surprisingly well. “Cheers to this wonderful evening. Ni-ki, I really hope that’s not alcohol.”

“It isn’t, mom. It’s just apple juice, I swear.” You nod sarcastically and toast.

The evening ends after dinner, and everyone parts their ways. Kazuha goes home, since it isn’t really late. You and Yunjin head home and go to your own rooms.

“Y/N.”

You start in shock, and turn around slowly. “Y/N, don’t be scared. I swear, I’m safe. You’re safe.”

“Sunghoon, I’m going crazy. You’re dead, and my mind just doesn’t want to accept it.”

“I am dead, but this is my spirit. I’ve come back as a Gwisin, Y/N. The reason I’m here is so you move on from me. And I’m here right now to convince you. Like I said last time, I can’t be here for too long. So listen to me. You need to move on. If I don’t come to the real world for some time, I can save up on energy and I can stay for longer. The briefcase? It was me. Look, I’ll come back in two days. Or a week. Keep a watch for me. I’ll try to stay with you forever, but it’s not gonna happen, for sure. You aren’t going crazy, just remember that.

“Even if I’m gone, it doesn’t mean you can’t be happy. Stay alive, Y/N.”

“Sunghoon!” You call out softly, but he’s gone already.

He’s gone, like he always is.

—————— 🦢

“Y/N, have you seen the headlines? The news outlets are having a field day with last night’s dinner.” Yunjin wakes you up in the morning with incredible news.

“What is it?” You yawn. Thanks to Sunghoon’s speech, you had not gotten even a wink of sleep the previous night.

“People think you’re dating Park Jisung. Some are saying that you’re showing favoritism toward Ni-ki. And there are now rumors of me and Ni-ki, which is SO wrong.”

“Ugh, I’ll talk to Kazuha about this crap. I guess I’ll release a press release. And you should ignore the Ni-ki rumors, I’ll get our agency to release some announcement about it. And don’t worry, you can post, but I think I can use this to some advantage, so please wait, would you?”

“Y/N, I trust you, so I’ll wait. But please don’t let this blow up badly.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You cross a finger over your heart, doing the iconic promise thing. Yunjin smiles, sipping her tea. “Right, it’s my turn for breakfast. What do you want?”

“You know, I have been craving a Greek yogurt bowl..”

“The yogurt you made? And adding açaí in it with that vanilla essence?”

“Yes! You know me so well. And maybe that matcha coffee latte I love.”

“On it. Anything else?”

“Nope! Thank you.”

You smile and turn away to prepare your breakfast and Yunjin’s bowl and latte. Yunjin usually makes her own latte, so her entrusting you with it must mean something, definitely. She makes the matcha part and coffee part, mixes them both in milk and ice, and then adds honey as a sweetener. It tastes heavenly, but it takes too much thinking for you to actually make it daily.

“Here’s your breakfast. Let’s have a good meal!”

The two of you eat, gossiping about the goings-on in Yunjin’s industry, you gasping when you hear shocking stuff. After the meal, the two of you rush off to get ready, and wish each other luck on your respective days.

You groan as you enter your office, not looking forward to talking to Kazuha about the rumors flying left, right and center. “Morning, Y/N. I take it you’ve seen the news.”

Kazuha’s grim face greets you at the door, and you nod, rubbing your forehead to try and relieve yourself. “Well then, what do we do?” Kazuha asks you, and you think about it.

“I think we should do two press releases. One for the dating rumors of me and Jisung, and the one of Yunjin and Ni-ki, which is TERRIBLE, by the way. The second one should be handled carefully. The other press release will be about the alleged favoritism. Can you make it so we’re promoting his new album and denying the partiality? Something like, ‘Ms. Y/N congratulates their young and successful artist, Ni-ki, on his new self-produced album by treating him and his choreographer to dinner with her assistant Ms. Kazuha and best friend and popular influencer Huh Yunjin.’ I’m sure it’s not a crime.”

“That’s genius. I’ll get the PR team to do something. Is it fine if the favoritism article comes in a newspaper instead of the agency? It’ll sound better that way.”

“Yes, but consult the PR. And ask the two to meet me here. I’ll get to work on the NewJeans contract draft.”

“Yes, you do that. You don’t really have anything else, I think. If you can talk to the creative and talents team about the new auditions, it would be great. And you should probably meet the group personally. I’ll plan something for you later.”

“Thanks, Kazuha. Good luck with the PR.”

“Good luck with your work too.”

Kazuha leaves the room, shutting the door behind her, and you sigh to yourself, thinking about what to begin working on first. The wind is howling, unexpectedly, since the sun is shining bright outside the window. You look around, the whooshing and howling sounding bizarre looking at the weather.

Suddenly, a paper flies in the room, from God knows where. You hesitate, knowing hate letters are common. But your instincts are telling you to read the paper, and who are you to ignore them?

You’re protected, Y/N.

Lots of love, P.SH.

“ARGH!” You shriek, wondering what was wrong with whoever sent this. Then you notice a little P.S. written at the bottom of the note.

Turn the page over.

You obey, curiosity getting the better of you.

I know you’re thinking this is a joke, or a prank, but it isn’t.

Want me to prove it?

Still saving up energy, but I’ll see you in three days.

I used up some of it to get this note to you.

Being a Gwisin isn’t easy work, dearest Y/N.

But I remember the dinner we had with your parents, before your father had that terrible stroke. We’d gone for sushi, because that was the most convenient for all of us, but we ended up staying back because you and your father wanted to watch football. It was incredibly funny.

What the fuck? You think to yourself, as the door bangs open to reveal Park Jisung.

“Y/N! I heard your shout, are you fine?” He looks at the paper in your hand, and stalks toward you, snatching the paper.

“JISUNG, DON’T—“

“Y/N, with all due respect, what the fuck is this?” Jisung breathes, looking up at you. “Is this some sort of joke? Because we — I mean, you — can sue, you know—“

“No, Jisung. You’ll definitely find me crazy, insane or psychotic based off of what I’m about to tell you, but.. remember Park Sunghoon? Uhm, he’s come back as a ghost, known as —“

“Gwisin?”

“…Yeah, how did you -?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not one and neither have I personally had an experience with one. But it’s a popular myth, and now I’m starting to reconsider the myth part of it. Besides, it was on the note, Y/N. And, just so you know, I’m also reconsidering what I know about you, because either you’ve officially lost it, or ghosts are real, and Ghostbusters wasn’t fiction. I’m doubting myself at the moment.”

“Um. You don’t have to ever talk to me again, if you’re uncomfortable with me, but please don’t tell this to anyone. If you’re not believing me, I doubt anyone will. And Yunjin and Kazuha will definitely not leave me alone ever again.”

“Relax, I won’t. Believe me or don’t, but my friend Haechan enjoys scaring me this way. At this point, he might as well convince me to join a cult. I won’t,” Jisung added hastily, as if he thought you might find him dangerous and fire him, and continued, “But I’ll get back to you on the whole how-I-feel-about-this situation.

You nod, incredibly glad he hasn’t reported you or yelled for help yet, and say, “You don’t need to remember this. Just please don’t say anything to anyone else.”

“You got it. And maybe keep your shrieking on the low, people will definitely think something’s up. Believe me, I genuinely nearly screamed myself when I heard your shout. It was.. what’s the word? Bloodcurdling. Fancy word, but really. Be thankful it’s me who came here and not Niki or Kazuha. Those two would’ve freaked, for sure.”

You nod slowly, realizing that luck is on your side today. In a way.

Woah, that rhymed.

Not the time, Y/N.

“Ah, I got it. Thanks, Jisung. Off topic, but did you have any work right now?”

“No, but given the current situation, I would be glad to leave you alone to think. No offense or anything, but you need time to yourself. Like, if you were going to invite me for coffee in the cafeteria or something. Not that you would or should or anything, don’t be morally obligated or whatever, but—“

“Relax, I get it. And for moral obligation reasons, I won’t say if I was going to invite you or not. Anyway, you’re right, I should spend time alone. I have work, anyway. Go, enjoy your break. Thanks again, Jisung. I owe you one.”

Jisung smiles and leaves, and you realize that you were going to invite him for a coffee, but good thing he had his priorities straight. And he really did make a good point, you had to think. It was a creepy note, yes, but what was creepy anymore? Did anything even count as supernatural? What next, would Spider-Man appear outside her office’s door and give her a cupcake?

“Knock knock!”

The door swung open to reveal Spider-Man himself.

Yes, that’s it. I’ve lost it.

Spider-Man took off his mask to reveal none other than Nishimura Riki, who had assumed it was the right day to dress up for work. “Here’s a box of cupcakes, to thank you for the dinner and to also thank you for helping me out with the scandal. It created publicity, but thanks for helping shutting it down. Kazuha Ma’am told me that it was your idea.”

“The scandal?!”

“No, the usage of it. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!” Riki smiled, placing the box of cupcakes on your table. “Or, rather, when life gives you money, buy Spider-Man outfits and give people cake!”

You laugh at the joke, and say, “You’re really starting to sound like Spider-Man with those sad little jokes and puns, Riki. You’re on break right now?”

“Nope, I’m actually wrapping things up for today. I came to work early and worked overtime last week, so that I could spend time with my family today.”

“You really don’t have to sacrifice your time for your work—“ “No, it’s for my fans. Before I go on hiatus.”

“Nice to see you so dedicated, Niki, but take my advice seriously. This industry can take a lot out of someone.”

“And I’m sure you’re right, but really, I got this. Don’t worry. Anyway, I should probably get changed before I leave the building, or the fans in question will never let me live this down. I can already picture the headlines — “Nishimura Riki, youngest idol / ace of Zen Entertainment, spoils latest comeback in a Spider-Man outfit, rocking it!” “Nishimura Riki to star in the newest Spider-Man outfit, proof here!” It would be so embarrassing…”

“Well, to be fair, and honest, you look good! It’s a good quality costume too, so there are very few memes that can be made. Unless you were holding coffee, or alcohol. I can picture everything then.” You say, struggling to hold back your laughter after imagining the memes.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, CEO. Have a nice day. And get some lunch.” Riki waves as he leaves to find the nearest restroom to change.

You smile, biting into a cupcake, only to find it full of spicy chilies.

“NISHIMURA RIKI!” You shout, very angry. The door slams open yet again, this time revealing a Spider-Man with no socks on and Jisung, looking very worried. “Oh. My. God.” Riki mouths, as realization dawns on him.

“I gave you the wrong cupcakes. Those were meant for my sister. I am so sorry. Here, try biting into this one, it should be red velvet and cream cheese.” He points to another cupcake in the box, and you obey.

“… NIKI!”

“SHOOT, WAS THAT FILLED WITH CHILLIES TOO?”

“No. It was tomato this time. And the white part, you may be wondering? Radish purée.”

“Um.. I’ll just get you the other box of cupcakes.. you can ask Mr Park to taste-test them for you?” Niki slips out the door, and you sigh.

“I would taste them for you, but I’d rather not take the risk, sorry, Y/N.” Jisung says, and you smile understandingly, unable to talk over the disgusting mix of flavors that are floating around in your mouth. “Thanks for understanding. Anyway, I’m going to assume you didn’t get an opportunity to think about whatever went on with that note. But I gave it a thought, and you should be alone. Finish off whatever work’s a priority right now, and go home. Really. That note would be enough to send me a one-way ticket to a therapist’s office. You can inform Kazuha about your absence, and I’m sure she’ll understand. I’ll take my leave, and enjoy the cupcakes Niki will get you. I helped him pick out both the prank box and sweet box.”

Jisung salutes you and leaves, leaving you staring after him in wonder. Swallowing a bit of water to rinse out the taste of the disgusting cupcake, you think about the events as the door bangs open yet again.

“Ma’am, I’m here with your cupcakes. I sincerely apologize, and I would understand if you fire —“

“Niki, you need to relax. I enjoy jokes too, you know. Depending on the context. And I’m sure your sister’s reaction would’ve been priceless. Anyway, help yourself to a cupcake. I’ll be leaving the building now, too. And please, please be scared of Jisung. He told me he helped you pick out the boxes of cupcakes? He could’ve picked out something really special for you, too.”

Niki’s eyes go wide, processing your words, and yelps. “Oh no, oh no, I asked him to help me pick my lunch! Um, I’ll leave, Ma’am. Thanks for the word of advice, I really appreciate it. Uh, bye!”

Niki runs away, still in his Spider-Man outfit, as you sigh. Ah, I seriously think my employees really would excel at standup comedy sometimes.

Laughing to yourself, you meet a representative from the talents team, asking them to organize a meeting with you and someone from the creative team after lunch. Then, you attempt to find Kazuha, who is sitting in the PR room, shouting at someone on a call. The people in the room look up and bow, seeing you enter. An employee pokes Kazuha and points at you, who hastily turns, ending the call. “Yes, Ms. Y/N?” She asks you, gesturing the rest of the room to get back to work.

“Oh, I’m leaving, I’m done for the day. Something personal came up. I’m taking the meeting with the talent team and creative team online, and I’ve arranged it all myself. You can take a break too, and so can the PR once the releases are all done. And feel free to treat yourselves to lunch on the company card. Just don’t go all out at a 5-star restaurant or something, I genuinely can’t finance that yet. Maybe some other time. Alright?”

Kazuha nods, smiling at the room, who look ready to cheer. “Thank you, Ma’am.” The room bows, as you leave, and Kazuha follows you, shutting the door behind her. “Are you fine, Y/N?” She asks you, scrutinizing your body language and facial expressions.

“Yes, Kazuha. Just a bit tired. Don’t worry, I’m fine, and if anything comes up, I think Yunjin will be at home. Ah, that reminds me. She’s supposed to make a post about the dating rumors, which are still so wrong, can you update her on our PR team’s work? She’ll talk to her management, I think.”

“Sure, I’ll give her a call and see if I can meet her for lunch. She did tell me she would be at home today at the dinner yesterday.”

“Alright then, that’s settled. Ah, and Niki and Jisung met me, although we didn’t get around to discussing much. Niki thanked me for the handling of the situation, by the way. But I’ll talk to Jisung tomorrow.”

“Okay, that should be fine. Bye, Ma’am.” Kazuha opens the door and slips back in, and you wave her off, leaving the building with a little sign of a headache building up.

—————— 🦢

You get back home, exhausted by the events of the day and grab your lunch. You sit for the meeting, discussing the new trainees that are to be accepted soon, and idols that they wished to sign a contract with. The meeting lasts for about an hour, and you stretch yourself after the meeting, trudging up to your room to try and take a nap. Unfortunately, your brain refuses to fall asleep after the note, and you end up laying in bed and wondering about the whole incident.

You suddenly recall that Jisung was there to witness the note, and you wonder if he’ll stay true to his word forever. As you delve deeper into your thoughts, you jump when you hear a phone ringing.

Your phone, in fact.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hi, this is Huh Yunjin speaking. Is Ms. Y/N free at the moment?” You hear your best friend’s sarcastic voice, and smile. “Of course I am. Anything for you.”

“Woah, woah, lay off on the lines, Y/N. I might just end up dating you.” You could hear the wink that Yunjin would’ve produced if she was right next to you.

“Ha, ha, ah yes, what a joke, I laughed. Anyway, what’s up? Did you eat?”

“I did, but I called to check on you. I hope you ate too?”

“Yeah, I did, mom. Is that why you called?”

“That, and Kazuha called. Thanks for helping me sort it out. Ugh. That is illegal and so wrong. What is wrong with people?”

“I’d have to agree. Anyway, when are you getting home?”

“Um, should be around six. Anything up?”

“Nope. Just checking. Get back safe.”

“Will do, Ma’am. Bye!”

“Bye!” You disconnect the call, smiling lightly as you feel grateful for having such a lovely friend by your side.

You and I both know that wouldn’t last for long if she knew you think ghosts spoke to you.

Oh, shut up, you. You tell yourself, plopping back down on your bed. You just know that this whole dilemma will reach a head soon, but till then you’ll have to wait it out. But why does life make it so difficult to tolerate this?

Thankfully, Sunghoon isn’t due for another two days at least. Whether it’s him, or any of his notes or signs or whatever it was he could think of, you’re determined to not let it get to you and not to lose it. But in all honesty, that’s the most you can do. Because it’s not in your control to get in touch with a freaking ghost.

And no, you’re never going to visit any of those ghost-whisperers. Even if ghosts do exist, which, seemingly, they do, the ghost-whisperers could always scam you, of course. All they need is a good business opportunity. The problem with such stuff is that one will never know if they’re being truthful or not. So people prefer picking the negative side, thinking they’re being deceitful.

Of course, in a lot of media, ghosts are portrayed as evil beings, which is why believing in them is frowned upon and considered to be a sign of the personality of the person, assuming they’re evil and believe in or practice black magic. You find it so funny, but also interesting. Who started all this psychology stuff anyway? Why couldn’t we have stayed sane and been the same? But then, that would be a sign of communism. Ugh, what even is this? Maybe humans are better off brainless.

Damn, I got all deep there. This might as well start another dumb controversy. But then again, I’m sure all this exists but not where I am. You think to yourself, stopping any more weird thoughts, thinking you’d better leave such thoughts to people who earn for these theories.

You go about preparing dinner, knowing that you will probably not be able to do anything but sit and wait for Sunghoon’s communications. And to wait until Jisung finally confesses that he thinks you’re insane and that you should definitely visit either a therapist or an asylum.

“Honey, I’m bored!” is the quote that marks Yunjin’s entry. “You’re bored?” You ask, used to Yunjin’s use of affectionate nicknames. “Yeah. I’m bored of all the drama. I wanna go away on a deserted island and never return.” Yunjin sighs, plopping on the couch. “Oui, I agree. You should go, and never return. Go, live your life.”

“Ouch. But you’re right. I’ll probably go on hiatus from all my social media and visit Hawaii.”

“Hawaii is so generic. But you do you. Anyway, dinner’s served.” You say, placing a plate in front of her. “You know what? I’m going to do this. I’m going to live by myself. Unless you wanna join. But I doubt you can.”

“Yeah, I can’t. Book your flights and send me your itinerary.”

“Ugh, never mind. I can’t randomly do this!” Yunjin cries, between mouthfuls of her food. “Why not? You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard but you’ve never had a solo trip.”

“You’re right.. but I can’t. You’re too fragile to be left alone.”

“You treat me like a patient sometimes.”

“Because you are, Y/N. You don’t know how bad we hurt inside when we saw you. You were a shell of the real Y/N. Now that you’re recovering, in a way, I can’t bear to go and see something happen to you.”

“You’re being too serious. Just go away for a week. Kazuha is here, and so are my friends. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Ugh.” Yunjin gets up to place her dish in the dishwasher, as do you. “You need to relax. Believe me.”

Yunjin stays silent, trying to think about it. “Kazuha is here, Yunjin.”

“Fine. I’ll go. But I’ll hear about anything that happens to you. Believe me. And yeah, I’ll send you my itinerary.”

“Yes!” You hug her, glad she’s getting a break, and glad that you’ll be alone when Sunghoon’s real visit will occur.

—————— 🦢

The next day, you walk into the office in a better mood, glad that you’d figured out what to do the previous night.

“Good morning, Y/N.” You hear a deep male voice, and jump to see Jisung. “Hey, Jisung. Where’s Kazuha?”

“Getting coffee for you.” He says, moving aside to let you sit down. “Ah, I see. Did Niki meet with the producer? I’d arranged a meeting for him with that artist from Karina’s company.” You ask Kazuha, who enters with your coffee. “Yeah, he left. He told me to thank you around a thousand times before he entered the meeting room.” Kazuha grins, offering Jisung a biscuit.

“Thanks, Ms Nakamura. Um, Y/N, I need to talk to you.” Jisung winces lightly, and you immediately understand what he wants to talk to you about.

“Sure, we can walk a bit.” You offer, finishing off your coffee. Kazuha stares after the two of you, and you shrug, not knowing what to tell her.

“So.. I thought about it, and maybe you’re not so insane. And I want to help you. But I don’t know what to do.” Jisung says as soon as you are out of earshot of anyone. “You can’t really help me, Jisung. Just don’t say anything to anyone, and if you don’t mind, offer me some advice if I ever need it.” You tell him, and he nods slowly, walking silently.

“Doesn’t it seem weird to you? Like, I don’t even say anything, just accept that you talk to certain people? And offer you help with them, too?” Jisung asks you thoughtfully, and you smile softly. “I guess it does, yeah.”

Jisung stays quiet, a trait of his you find nice. The two of you walk in peace, reaching back to your office just in time for Kazuha to open the door. “Oh, haha, I was about to come after you guys. Y/N, I need to leave, there’s some problem at my friend’s place. I’ll be back in an hour, tops.”

“Okay, no worries. Take your time. And if you need anything, my line’s open. You only need to call.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Um, I prepared a schedule for you, check it out. It’s on your table. You don’t have much, really.” Kazuha smiles and leaves, thanking you profusely before she exits.

“Woah, I forget you’re the CEO sometimes.” Jisung says jokingly, and you laugh. “Yeah, yeah. This CEO has to get to work, so, yeah.”

“I get it, I need to go. Bye! I have work, anyway. I only came to the building to speak to you.” Jisung shrugs, waving behind him as he leaves. You grin to yourself, preparing for your meeting with NewJeans.

“Hello, Ms. L/N!” Hanni, who is the main correspondent for the contract signing, enters, a bright smile on her face. The rest of NewJeans follows her, smiling and bowing at you. “Hello. I’m glad you are going ahead with the signing, NewJeans. How are you guys feeling? Can I get you anything to drink, or eat?”

“Nope, all of us ate our breakfast and got here.” Hyein said, and Minji nodded. “Yeah, but water would be good.” You nod and buzz someone to get five glasses of water. The glasses arrive as asked for, and the girls drink up.

“So, let’s get this meeting started. Firstly..”

After the meeting, NewJeans take a picture with you to post once the news of the contract signing gets out. NewJeans has been an amazing group, you think, as you walk them out the building. “Thank you, NewJeans. Let’s have a great year ahead of us! See you in May.” You wave, watching as they leave.

You enter the building again, glad to be back in the business rush again. You feel the need to be productive at times, and this definitely satiated that desire. “Y/N! I’m back. How was the meeting?” Kazuha greets you in your office, looking up from her laptop.

“Great. They’re nice people. Can’t wait to work with them.” You smile, and ask about the incident at her friend’s home. “Oh, no, it wasn’t that serious. My friend’s ill, and the person taking care of her had to go out for some urgent work. So I took over for a bit.”

“Is your friend okay?” You ask, worry filling you. “Yeah, she’s having a pneumonia attack. Not that serious, but she is supposed to be under bed rest, so I went and got her breakfast.”

“Okay, let me know if you need anything delivered to her place, I’ll get it done.” You offer, knowing that’s the most you can really do for Kazuha. “Thank you, Y/N. Anyway, you’re free until after lunch. I've arranged a meeting with NewJeans’ manager and CEO to discuss further contract details.”

“Great. Thanks, Kazuha. But I’m not looking forward to it.” The CEO of NewJeans’ company is known to be nice, but is sometimes too nice. It gets a bit creepy for you, personally, but Mr Song is generally a welcoming person.

“I know. But their manager is a nice person, so hey, that’s a plus point!” Kazuha points out, shutting her laptop and stretching her back. Kazuha enjoys ballet, and so is always stretching something or the other. But all your employees can’t help but to ask her about her posture, because it, quite frankly, is perfect. In fact, Kazuha is asked for posture classes almost every day.

“Yeah, I guess.. anyway, you can take a break. Want something to eat?” You offer, and Kazuha shakes her head. “No, I think I’ll take a walk. Also, what’s this I hear about Yunjin going on hiatus?”

“Yeah, she’s going to—“

“Yeah, some island, I know. But is she fine?” Kazuha asks, and you shrug. “She says that, but I don’t know, I just guess she’s getting tired of the influence lifestyle. To be fair, I wouldn’t blame her either. But I’m sure she’ll be fine. You should talk to her.”

Kazuha nods, zoning out, as she exits your office with a pen in hand. You smile offhandedly, jotting down some information about the NewJeans contract so you can prepare for the meeting.

“Ms Y/N?” You hear Niki’s voice from outside your door, and you yell for him to enter. “Thank you for setting up that meeting. My fans will be excited for this collaboration. Anyway, a week until my album releases and I leave. I’m honestly scared. What if my fans don’t like me?” Niki afflicts himself with unnecessary thoughts, and you sigh, settling behind your desk comfortably.

“You have nothing to worry about. Niki, you’re such an accomplished artist. And so young at that! This album is something your fans will never forget, seeing as it’s written by you. Besides , this collaboration has never been seen before. The artist never collaborated with anyone. Ever. Don’t hurt yourself with such thoughts. We at the company will make sure no one ever forgets the name Niki.”

“Thank you, ma’am. But it’s really not easy stopping those thoughts. I guess we learn, eventually. Anyway, enough about me. I don’t wanna spend my last week all emo. What’s going on with you, ma’am?”

“See, you call me ma’am, then get all casual. And what’s an emo?” You ask him, genuinely confused. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re really old, aren’t you? It’s a meme, I guess, but it means emotional. Like, a depressed type of thing, but it’s used ironically or sarcastically most of the time.” Niki shakes his head, disappointed, while you scowl. “I may be old, but I’m not that old, Nishimura Riki.”

“Oh. Full name. It is my time to leave. Au revoir, mademoiselle!” Niki rushes out the door, leaving you laughing.

—————— 🦢

Just another day left until Sunghoon said he would visit, and you’re feeling a bit jittery. Yunjin is leaving today, and you’re currently at the airport to say goodbye.

“Y/N, don’t forget to call me if you need anything, okay?—“

“Flight 777 boarding. I repeat, Flight 777 boarding. Passengers need to get aboard now.”

“Yeah, yeah, Yunjin, you don’t wanna miss your flight, okay? Go away now. Bye!” You wave and walk away as Yunjin keeps saying something. She ends up rolling her eyes and turning, waving without looking at you.

Kazuha couldn’t come with you as she had to go look after her friend, who was healing, luckily. But she did video call you to say goodbye to Yunjin, who has switched off her main phone and bought a flip phone so you and Kazuha can contact her.

You get back home, exhausted. You spend the rest of the day by yourself, treating yourself to takeout and binge watching a series on the TV. You’d taken a leave of absence from the office today, which, in retrospect, seems like a good decision.

The next day, you walk into the office, incredibly jittery, anticipating the visit at any minute. You hate this feeling so much, but what could you possibly do, anyway? You sit in the office, looking at the proposed building renovations to include more practice rooms and recording studios and reducing the break rooms. You do not like the renovations any better than the jitters you’re getting, but since the board had suggested it, you don’t have a choice but to go through them.

“Y/N!” You jump immediately, papers scattering everywhere. “I won’t tell you to chill, but relax. It’s Jisung.” You sigh in relief, as Jisung helps you sort the papers.

“It’s not my business, I know, but did Sunghoon visit you?” He asks, and you shake your head in reply. “No. Can’t you tell? I’m so nervous. I don’t know what he even has to say. What can a dead lover say?”

“Well, in my experience, nothing, because I’ve never had a dead lover.” Jisung shrugs, sitting on the windowsill. You sigh. “Yeah, I wish I knew someone — on second thought, I don’t wish. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.”

“Good, cause if you’d said what you’d wanted to, I’d have walked out a minute ago.” Jisung says, pretending to exhale in relief, placing a hand on his chest.

“Hey, I’m not a sadist.” You point out, narrowing your eyes at him. He raises his hands, saying, “Hey, I wouldn’t know, you know.” “Yeah, well, how would I know if you wouldn’t know?”

Jisung laughs, and you smile.

“Y/N?”

Jisung’s jaw drops, as you turn to look Park Sunghoon square in the eye. “Is this.. your boyfriend?” He asks, and your eyes go wide, looking at Jisung.

“No, of course not. If you’re jealous, you don’t really have a reason to be.” Jisung says, matter-of-factly, but you know that’s not a great reassurance for Sunghoon. “Okay. Anyway, can you get out?”

“No. You’re being kind of selfish, don’t you think? Y/N needs support. I know you’re a Gwisin, and all that. I was there when you delivered that note. Y/N has been so nervous as of late. You’re being so rude. Think about her, too. It’s not like I’ll blabber anything to the media. What the heck would I say?”

“Sunghoon..” you say, and Sunghoon sighs. “Ugh, I don’t have the time for this. Y/N, I’m here as a Gwisin because I can’t move on for a while. Um. I don’t really know why I saved up energy for this, but I just wanna tell you that you should move on. And you should leave the room, I have something to say to this clown.” Sunghoon nods at Jisung, who scowls. You quietly leave, not having anything to say. You’ve never seen Sunghoon this way, which scares you just a bit. You did your own research on Gwisin the other day, and found that they can be harmful sometimes. As much as you don’t wanna leave Jisung unarmed, you trust Sunghoon enough to use his senses as much as possible. Besides, you do have to guard the door, so that no one (read: Kazuha) enters and freaks out and possibly sends you and Jisung to the hospital to get psychologically evaluated.

You hear nothing, which is reassuring, unless Sunghoon— never mind, you won’t think about it, you decide. You pace in front of the door for a while, until you hear the lock open slowly.

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, and you nod. “Yeah, Jisung. Are you fine?”

“Yeah, I am. He didn’t do anything to me, relax. He just wanted to check on you, because he knew you would lie.”

“But—“

“I don’t even know you that well? Think again. I’m friends with Niki, who’s now friends with Yunjin, who’s your roommate and is also close to Kazuha.” Jisung says, as if he explained everything with that statement.

“Okay.. and that helps you how, exactly?”

“Well, to put it simply, we gossip about you occasionally.”

“It’s barely been a week since you know Yunjin and Kazuha.”

“What can I say? Niki and I are incredibly social.” Jisung shrugs, and you sigh. “Is that all he told you?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Jisung says, looking at you. “He left just like that?” You ask, and Jisung shrugs. “Yeah. Why?”

“Oh, I’m expecting a note from him right about… now.” You say, and immediately a note flies in from the window. “You should really start shutting your window, Y/N.” Jisung says, massaging his nose bridge in annoyance.

You look at the note, prepared for anything at this point.

Y/N,

I want you to be happy. Are you happy? Don’t lie, which I know you will, so don’t even bother answering. You need to move on. I don’t wanna be selfish, but I don’t want you to. But you need to. It’s for your own good. I.. I think Jisung is nice. He’s nice to you. I don’t like him, but he’s good for you. As a friend, or whatever. But you can’t stay hung up on me. I know you have important work in May. And you need to get a hang of yourself. You’re a mess, quite frankly.

I’m sorry for disrupting your life the way I did. Thing is, as a Gwisin, I need to accomplish what I want to until I can move on from this world. This world is the underworld, in simple terms, and where all Gwisin exist, whether good or bad. I’m the good kind, I promise.

I’m so sorry. I really am. But please, please move on. It may seem difficult now, but enjoy life. Fall in love again.

Yours,

Sunghoon.

You look up from the note, trying to not cry and sigh at the same time. “Y/N? Are you fine?” Jisung asks you, concerned at the obvious tears in your eyes.

“I’m. Fine. I swear.” You tell him, blinking back tears rapidly. “Yeah, you are. Sure!” Jisung says, letting you deny your tears and watching your face, making sure you don’t harm yourself in any way.

“I really am.” You insist, aggressively wiping your tears away. “Yeah.” Jisung nods slowly, and you give in to your tears. “I can’t believe he expects me to move on so easily. First my dad falls ill, then I lose Sunghoon. Why does life wanna kick my ass at any given opportunity? I don’t get it. I do want to fall in love. But it’s not easy. I just want to move on from this too. I wanna start a new life. But I can’t. Because I’m tied to all of this. Why’d Sunghoon have to die? If he had to, why couldn’t I have gone with him?” You cry, and Jisung walks to be next to you.

“Y/N, Sunghoon is going to expect you to move on. He knows it’s not easy. I’m sure he does. And I’m also sure life doesn’t wanna kick your ass. This is all just a test. Life isn’t easy for anyone. What happens, happens for a reason, okay? Once that gets through your head, life is much more tolerable. You didn’t die for a reason. You’re so strong. You help out whoever you can, whenever you can. You’re nice to everyone. You work hard. You try to lessen the burden on other people. You took over your dad’s business without a single second’s hesitation. That takes a lot of courage. You’re strong. You just need to understand that. You have the ability to do anything, Y/N. Do you know how good that feels? You don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t be crying. You’d be figuring out if you can move on right now. And if not right now, you’d be estimating when you would. Y/N, you might not wanna hear this, but get a grip.” Jisung says, and you breathe in, jaw agape.

“Sorry. Did I overstep? Please tell me if I did, I don’t wanna cross any—“ you interrupt Jisung’s blind blabbering with a bear hug, causing him to choke on air.

“Thank you.” You tell Jisung. Jisung pats your back a little awkwardly, letting you hold him.

—————— 🦢

The next day, you meet with Kazuha at the office, and ask her if she wants to stay overnight at your place.

“I would, Y/N, but I promised my friend I’d stay over at her place. She’s finally recovered, by the way!” Kazuha exclaims, and you smile. “Of course, you should go to her place. I’m so glad she recovered. Listen, send me her address, I’ll send her a gift. And tell me what she’s allergic to.” You say, and Kazuha sighs. “You are so extravagant sometimes.”

“You guys love me for it.”

“Oh well. Can’t argue with facts, can we?” You and Kazuha laugh and continue with work.

You and Jisung haven’t spoken about anything except work related matters, and, to be honest, you are kind of offended. It’s not everyday you get to see your boss, or whatever you are to Jisung, getting haunted by her dead lover’s ghost. And, deep down, you thought that the two of you were friends. Thought, in past tense.

I don’t think friends let their friends forget that they’re there for them after a haunting. You think, rolling your eyes as you swivel around in your chair.

“Y/N, Jisung’s here to see you.” Kazuha says, raising an eyebrow at you, asking the security guard to let him in.

“What are you raising your eyebrow at?” You ask, and Kazuha shrugs, raising her other eyebrow too. “Nothing, just.. he’s been visiting you a lot lately..”

“What are you getting at?” You ask, a slight cleft forming in your forehead. “Nothing, it’s just.. are you dating him? Or do you like each other? Not judging. Not judging, for sure. Just wanna know.” Kazuha assures you, and you look her dead in the eye.

“No.”

“Hey, Y/N. Um, is this a bad time?” Jisung enters and pauses, seeing the glare on your face. “No, this is the perfect time. I’m leaving.” Kazuha says, walking out without a single word, winking at you as she leaves.

“So, Jisung. Why’ve you been radio silent?”

“Uh? I’m sorry? It’s been a day.” Jisung grins offhandedly, and you frown. “I thought you were nice.” You say, and wince immediately. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Um, I was busy with something, so I couldn’t call. But you could have called. I would’ve spoken to you for at least a minute.” Jisung says, and you sigh. You’ve gotten attached, you fool. Just because someone wants to be friends doesn’t mean you go and do this.

“Ha ha. Yeah. I could’ve. Sorry. My bad. Anyway. How are you?” You ask awkwardly, and Jisung shrugs. “Good, I guess. You?”

The wind whooshes aggressively and you shudder. “What’s up with the wind, all of a sudden?” Jisung asks, shutting the windows.

“I think it’s Sunghoon.” You say, shivering lightly.

“You guessed right.” Sunghoon appears, and Jisung sighs. “Y/N, I’m really hopeless at the deep speech thing, so I’m gonna talk to Jisung. If you don’t tell her, I will.”

“Tell her what?” Jisung asks, and you look at the two carefully, trying to look for any signs of a secret. Obviously, there is one, but you do want to try out your observation skills. “What we discussed yesterday.”

“Oh. No. You won’t tell her, that’ll make it weird. Don’t do it. It won’t benefit either of us.”

“But it will benefit me!” You exclaim, and the two ignore you. “I might.”

“You’re selfish.”

“You can’t say that for everything, Park Jisung. Y/N—“

“Shut up!” Jisung yells, covering your ears, or trying to. “What is it?” Annoyed, you prise Jisung’s hands away from your ears, and glare at him.

“Oh, Jisung has a crush on you.” Sunghoon says, and Jisung goes red.

“Sunghoon, are you playing matchmaker with your ex-girlfriend who’s only your ex because she’s alive and you’re not?” You ask, pissed off.

“Jeez, just admit it, you’re growing a crush on him too.” Sunghoon says, annoyed too. “Am not!” “Are too!”

“You two really were meant for each other.” Jisung says, still bright red. “We get it.” You and Sunghoon chorus, and stare at each other, angry.

“Oh, my God. Y/N, you are growing a crush on Jisung.” Sunghoon says, and you roll your eyes. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I’m right, I know. Anyway, I guess it’s time to explain why I’m being so unconventional. Jisung knows already, and he’s a huge part of the reason.

“Apparently, my last dying wish was for you to be happy, and I guess it’s the truth. Well, the point of it is for you to fall in love. And until you do, I’m going to be a Gwisin. And my powers are fading away, so I think you do like him, just a little bit. But that little bit helps me move on. I don’t want your feelings to be fake, because that won’t work. But my powers really are going away. I’m glad, Y/N. Jisung really likes you. I can tell. I feel like the new Cupid. But anyway, if you like him, good for you. I’m happy as long as you are.”

You watch as the shimmery Sunghoon becomes a bit more transparent, and suddenly understand a lot about him as a Gwisin. “Shit. Sunghoon. Don’t go. Just stay, but don’t be a Gwisin.”

“I am always with you. You just won’t get to be able to confirm it any more. Don’t worry, I can be in touch until you start falling in love. And you can’t deny your feelings, nor can you fake them. But I just can’t appear anymore.”

Jisung watches as you attempt to hug the faded Sunghoon, and watches you break down, and helps you up.

—————— 🦢 A YEAR LATER, JUNE 1.

“Ms L/N!” NewJeans greets you, and you smile. “Congratulations. I hear your relationship press release went well?” Minji congratulates you, and you smile brightly. “Yeah, it did. I’m so happy. And I’m happy you guys are so successful. And the collaboration with Niki went so well.” You compliment them, and they smile.

“Speak of the devil.” Niki enters the room, and shakes your hand. “Really? My choreographer?”

“I’m sorry, okay? He’s so nice. And sweet. And—“

“Please, don’t. He’s my choreographer.”

“I—“

“Goodbye.” NewJeans and Niki leave, leaving you confused.

“Hey, Y/N.” Jisung smiles as he enters, hugging you. “The press release went so well.” He says, and you laugh. “As it should have. Everything’s getting better. My father is recovering well, Mum got a break when I took over Dad’s healthcare, Yunjin quit the full time influencer gig and works part time now, Kazuha is chairman, and I’m still CEO with a boyfriend and a lot of friends. A year ago, I was a mess.”

“Well, you were a mess, yeah. Cheers to the mess-free Y/N of 20XX!” Jisung brings out a water bottle, and you reach under your desk to take yours.

“Cheers!”

—————— 🦢

After work, you go back to your home, which you bought for yourself, so Yunjin could leave alone.

You sit in your study, and bring out a blank letter and start writing.

From, Y/N.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’m grateful. Thanks to you, I’m happy. Or happier. I’m able to get up and not think of you, some days. When I do, I don’t cry anymore. I know you want me to be happy, so I smile and think of us. I think I’ll always love you. I hope you will too, even if you’re still dead and I won’t ever get a message from you. But I love Jisung, too. And I’m glad you can finally rest in peace. I’m happy if you are happy, too. I just wish we wouldn’t have to end the way we did sometimes, but I guess it can’t be helped. Some character development, right?!

I write these letters so that I can get my feelings out and direct them somewhere. But I think I’m going to stop soon. My relationship press release went incredibly well. Of course, there were the odd questions here and there about you, but they really can’t be helped.

I miss you. But I miss you as a best friend, for sure. I don’t miss you as a lover anymore. And frankly? I don’t ever want to, again. I love you, but I am letting go.

We didn’t deserve what happened to us. We really didn’t. And I wish it never happened. But I am moving on. I need to. So, Park Sunghoon, goodbye.

I love you.

Then, now, and always.

To: Park Sunghoon.

P.S. I Hope You’re Happy.

P.S.S. I used to listen to this song called In My Dreams. Back when I was way too hung up on you. And I love that song. If you ever get to listen to music whenever you are, please listen to it. I want that song tattooed. I might do it soon. Love you a lot.

—————— FIN.

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