#next up is the scene that maybe i dont quote unquote need for the quote unquote plot but
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just dropping in to say I am looking forward to seattle au very very much! as someone who is technically a seattle native but has never lived there as an adult or in the city proper, the romance and plot is nice and all but I would be here just for your palpable love for the city! I hope your scene driving over the 520 bridge in the dark and the rain made it in <3
ahhhh anon ty ❤️❤️❤️ while this fic is about many things it really IS about me being like fuck i love my hometown and im so glad someone else is excited about that too. and you best believe that scene is in there! in fact it's so unspoiler-y that i think i can share:
They don’t talk for the first few minutes of the drive, the driver navigating quiet, curving suburban streets as they slowly make their way towards the bridge to some music station that only seems to play quiet world music Leon’s never heard in his life. Leon’s surprised to find himself breaking the quiet as they finally get on the highway. “Weird how everyone else lives over here except us.”
“God, I know,” Matthew says, laughing. “I mean, I get it, good schools and all, but it seems so inconvenient.”
“Yeah,” Leon says. “ I just told the realtor I wanted to be close to the arena, and the building seemed okay, so, yeah.”
“So, yeah,” Matthew repeats, tone teasing. “Well, that sounds a lot better than my search.”
“Oh really?”
“Mmm.” Matthew tilts his head back, chin tipping up, the yellow light from the lamps along the highway changing his skin to a strange pale gold. “Dad got all invested, looking up neighborhoods and resale values. Kept telling me I should go for a house on the lake or something.” He sits up, adopting a new tone, exaggeratedly loud and brash. “It’s a good investment, Matthew. By next summer, the market’s gonna be crazy. You can make a nice little profit when your contract is up if you decide to sign somewhere else. This is about planning for your future.” Then Matthew shifts, slumping back into his seat and laughing softly. “Always so opinionated.”
“Sounds annoying.”
Matthew shrugs, resting an elbow on the car door and propping up his chin, looking out at the dark, choppy water of the lake on his side of the bridge. “Yeah, well. That’s parents for you.”
“Yeah,” Leon replies. Almost unconsciously, he mirrors Matthew’s pose, staring out his own side of the car. When he looks at the lake water, it’s mirror smooth. The whole view is dark, still, disturbed only by the blue lights of the toll cameras flashing as they pass underneath. “Well, I think you picked a good spot.”
Even without looking to check, Leon can hear Matthew turning in his seat, can feel the sudden heat of his attention. “You think so?”
It’s Leon’s turn to shrug. He watches as the far shore comes into view, the yellow lights of the houses, the occasional red and green flash of a plane up overhead, the dark silhouette of the football stadium. “I mean, I picked the same place, didn’t I?”
Matthew’s laugh is quiet, hardly audible over the murmur of the radio. “Fair enough.”
#ask#seattle au#next up is the scene that maybe i dont quote unquote need for the quote unquote plot but#if i cant make my blorbos Experience Washington State Ferries what is the point of a self indulgent au
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help. i would reach 30+ tags if i tried typing it all into the tags so. prepare for the yappa yappa outside the tags …. ( 𖦹‸𖦹)..
anyway memes for how this chapter had me feeling
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ajsgsjgshdgbd hi i fell asleep yesterday reading this chapter (best way to sleep icl. if only i dreamed)
(i couldve dreamed of this au </3)
long tags. be warned.
to start: WDYM I WAS THE FIRST TO KNOW HOBGJOONG MADE THE COAT (kicks feet blushing)
the pineapple scent. idk why but it fits him. i enjoy it and each scent u assign to each member :3
next order of business: thinkibg about the end of last chapter and showing off softy san !!!!!! i wanna smother him in blankets and tell him its okay
also. giggling over how he drinks in this au knowing irl hes as much of a lightweight as me :3
ALSO ALSO. THE ALLEYWAY SCENE ??? im trying to like figure out who was there. like its gotta be mingi bc of the voice but who came out of the car ? hwa or joong ??
question is if swanette will remember the voice of who exited the car....
AND JONGHO MY BELOVED OUGH !!!!! i wanna bump into him on the streets meet cute style (delulu)
the maknae whisper !!!! such a good setup for us to know its him before he gives his name to swanette
AND I WAS WAITINF FOR HER TO FREAK BC JONGHO KNEW HER NAME BEFORE SHE EVER TOLD HIM !!!! safe in bed line !! so good !
wooyo offering to lace her up. melting. swanette is stronger than me lol (AND THE UNLACE LINE 🫠😵💫😵💫)
angel between two demons. the foreshadowing to the fucking first part of first chapter i fear.
side note but swanette fidgeting often is very relatable and me core so i really enjoy reading lines where she does repeated actions to soothe
as someone who stims with their necklace and clothes often. its just a very nice thing for me haha
speaking of reader being unhurt. remined me of the san icing her legs moment. blushes like a slut. ㅠㅇㅠ
WAIT I ALSO REALISED THEY MIGHT HAVE WAITED UNTIL SHE FELT NEEDED TO BE WALKED HOME BEFORE THEY STARTED TO DO IT REGULARLY ???
like yeah they dont feel the need to walk her home every night bc jongho n mingi watch over her and could protect her if needed
but idk. maybe its both good and a bit toxic of them ? toxic in the way of waiting for her moment of weakness ?
icl i wanna read this ignoring all potential toxicness in their bond with her but i fear that would ruin many beats of this story. sigh.
then again this isnt a sunshine and rainbows story. sorry maybe this tag wasnt nedded in my rambling ^^;
ANYWAY WOOYO JOKING TO COMFORT HER !!!! giggling and wiggling like a schoolgirl !!!
wtf was the restaurant scene. what was that. i know it means smth bigger but what !!!!!
tall and taller ??? our twin towers ??? WHAT DID THEY DO. DID SWANETTES HATE FOR CHEATERS BRING THIS TO IMARA AS A BUTTERFLY EFFECT TYPE SITUATION ?????
oh my god brat wooyoung teasing the fuck outta mingi. screaming over his touches longer longing. OH HOW I ADORE HIMMMMM
the S ring ? huh ??? do they have rings from seonghwa too ? couple items with seonghwa ? (delulu)
EVEN JONGHO HAD SEEN SWANETTE PERFORM IM SCREAMING OVER THIS SOBBING !!!!! i love baby bear soooo much ugh
oughhhh Julia. i do NOT like her. also im grateful the fellow members in the dance company dont realise san and wooyo love her bc i just know how much drama thatd bring
the foil of woosan. exploding. extrovert liking quieter cosy dates while the introvert likes outings. explodes pt2
i also love how wooyoung visibly lights up when swanette shows she listens and remembers what he tells her :((((
«San's gift of the coat» oh swanette. may u soon learn Joongie made it for u
ALSO ???? does the coat mean more than just joong quote unquote claiming her ? does her love her like woosan ?
has he been to a performance and no ond has known ????? i have many questions...
SCREAMING OVER THE NECKLACE BEING TUGGED !!! GOOD LORD SAN YOU WANT ME DEAD 😵💫😵💫😵💫
side note i realised i feel like im annotating a physical book with this /pos enjoy the yapa yapa rii ramblings
«hes mine just as wooyoung and you are mine» SOBBING THATS A DREAMMMMMM
one hug from yeosang would literally fix me. im not joking.
side note the way you write is so delicious i love how it perfectly blends in her thoughts and actions into the narration... its delightful truly
GENTLEMAN SAN SWOONING
:( swanette wanting to be a star like yeosang :(((((
«there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude» YOU TELL EM !!!!
ouch ouch ouch !!! i dont like the foreshadowing of san's discontent with the prima ballerina answer !!! :(((
not much to add to yunho in the headlines other than swanette being so innocent... ough it works so well for the story and it isnt annoying or nothing !!! adore it
rip newspaper ceo bozo u wont be missed /j
shaking the bars of my cage !!!! yeosang wanting to eat dinner with her !!!!!!! im in love. yeosang i love u
SCREAMING OVER MINGIIIIII OH MY GOD MY SHAYLAAAAAAA MY BABY
the figures in the upper window !!!! our matz !!!!
oh the tooth gems... i wonder if it holds a special meaning within ateez's hierarchy in this au
the diamond chandelier. melting thinking about mv san. sorry
KITTY :D
wait sorry i was rewatching the mv bc of the piano mention and im gonna explode. im gonna send an ask dw dw
the mv okay. FUCKIN YEOSANGS FLOWR OUTFIT GRAHHH (pulls at my hair) jongho with the cat and the piano !!!! you nailed the car too w mingi omg ?
MINGI IN FRONT OF THE DESK ??? IS THAT WHERE YUNHO AND HIS SCENE AT THE TABLE COMES FROM ???
gotta lock back into the story. sorry. (i didnt lie with my yapa yapa)
barking over iomt hongjoong mention. sorry. daddy? sorry (death by pans and pots)
ngl yunho scattering ashes on the table cloth gave me a bit of an ick 😭
he was curious about her. growls. didnt he think she was some doll >:(((((
okay. the whole dinner. (wipes sweat off brow and sighs in relief) yunho intimidating. hes the guard doggggg
oh my god but yeosangieeeee and mingiiiii my princesses. my babiesssss
god i love my yeowoosan. i do. i wont lie any longerrrr
mingi cursing had me giggling
ALSO JONGHO MY BABYYYYYY BABY BOY BABY !!!!! :D
the time jump.... kitty z we love u dont take it personally pls :(
oughhhhhh its gonna be hard waiting for the next chapter this is so good !!! ill make sure to rb again when i reread the chapters hehe
till the next update or when i reread them !!! pls take care haley !
yappa yappa over o7
like a waltz⎯ part 4: piqué.
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pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader; this chapter focuses on all the boys & reader except my beloved matz :(( (their time is coming.) series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: As trouble arises and your patrons spend more time with you, more attention gets locked on you. Their interest is thoroughly piqued by you. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e rule of cool), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, canon typical violence (choking, fighting, punching, etc), canon typical gore, blood, death, guns, explicit language, stalking, alcohol, smoking, bribery, lack of privacy, allusions to exploitation in ballet, implied sexual themes, suggestive themes, kissing, intimacy, angst, fluff, voyeurism sort of, obsession, infatuation, sugar daddy themes, unequal power dynamics, food descriptions, missing people, polyamory, pain, medical drug usage, traumatic injury, injuries, reader discretion advised & 18+ readers only! Let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 20.4k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist
piqué ; french pronunciation: [piːk], ‘pricked’… or to stimulate interest or curiosity.
Creeping out of the stage-door hours after a performance was a normal thing for ballerinas. The alley way was something all the girls were familiar with just as they were with the foyer de la danse. Its damp cobblestone, nearby rotting trashcans, and the barely lit path was their red-carpet entrance. They were not allowed the luxury of entering through the grand doors of the opera house with its tall columns, brightly lit lamps, and the many steps towards its shiny, gold-painted extravagance The only days they were allowed to enter through the front doors were when the opera house was closed and they were rehearsing. The petit rats were only welcomed with glamour when the rich weren’t nearby. They had the back-entrance. This was the ugly underbelly of the pretty façade.
Dressed in her pretty coat and her warmest layers, she had said goodbye to San and Wooyoung ages ago. But then, the Madame had spoken to her and a few ballerinas in her office, relaying some notes, insisting on the girls performing the rectifications immediately. So, there they stood in the rehearsal room, satin-ribboned shoes laced up over thick winter stockings and their day-dresses on. The ballerinas repeated their motions: turning in pirouettes, performing jetes, and piquing across the hall. It was only after the city’s clock tolled twelve times that the Madame allowed them to stop with a slam of her cane into the wooden floorboards. Then, after confirming each dancer had paid their weekly bill (YN smiled, wiping sweat from her brow as she was told her patrons paid once more), they were allowed to leave. The other ballerinas had all scurried home by the time she had gathered her bag and coat once more.
It was late into the early hours, past midnight and not yet morning when she finally left the opera house and crept out into the alley.
Pushing the heavy door open with her shoulder, the chill of night soaked into her bones with a whoosh. Shivering a bit, she adjusted her pretty coat closer to her body and prepared herself for the walk home. Her boots click clacked on the icy pavement as she exited the mouth of the alley. Looking this way and that, the streets were abandoned. Seemingly abandoned. Some of the candle-lit lamps even had fizzled out in the evening with no leeries about to relight them. She continued to walk along, humming softly until she heard the noise. Loud panicked whispers. A crackling fire. The crinkling of a tin-barrel. The smell of smoke. Ahead of her, dark smoke was tumbling out of a nearby alleyway, firelight lighting the brick-walls. She paused, her foot-steps slowed.
Click. Clack.
“You fucked up the deal?” It was frightened.
Click, clank.
“I didn’t mean to; I didn’t mean to. Johnny stole some cash from them, and then-“
“I don’t care! We needed this deal – the money, before he arrives – before we all lose –“
There was the squealing of car wheels and the smell of hot gasoline in the air. YN froze, her footsteps stopping. A car door slammed open, and there was a new click-clank of boots. A startled yell, a shuffle of footsteps, voices overlapping; there was a thud of a body hitting the icy ground with a yell. YN held her breath.
“Gentlemen,” the newcomer’s voice was gravely. There were heavy footfalls and a scrambling sound of someone walking backwards. Something hit a tin-can.
“B-B-Boss.”
“Where is it?”
“Oh, about that –“ the other chuckled.
“My money isn’t no laughing matter.” There was a thud like someone being shoved into a wall violently. The man groaned in pain. “You think I’m someone to be crossed? Where. Is. It?” the intimidating deep voice asked, lowly.
YN swallowed, frozen at the alley way’s entrance just out of view. When would she be able to pass? She needed to get out of here quiet and without being noticed. Or else… she was scared what would happen. This wasn’t the usual gang-dealings. Gangs would fight back, fist with fist. These men were scared.
“We can get it to you- We can- just give me some time, boss!”
“This is the second time,” the graveled voice grumbled; there was a low whistle, sharp and piercing.
And then it was quiet. There wasn’t even pleading, no whimpering.
Silence.
YN’s breath was held as she tentatively peered out from her spot. A sliver of her face was visible against the brickwork wall of the alley way. Smoke hazed the figures, but she could just make out the broad shoulders of the deep-voiced man, cornering another man to the brick wall. The man’s hand scratched at the many-ringed fingers that grasped his throat mercilessly. A gagging sound was heard. Not one of the gang-member’s allies moved to help them. Instead, they were all staring at the automobile.
A truck was reversed into the alley way. Black and large, it shined and flickered in the firelight. Its back-doors pushed open with a click, and men in dark masks tumbled out. Large, intimidating suited figures held bulky guns she had never seen before. YN had seen muskets, shotguns, and even a revolver once. These weren’t that. These were heavy, mechanical, and dangerous-looking. They piled into the alley, the metal of their weapons glinting in the firelight of the makeshift-barrel fire. The frightened figures strewn about the alley way were frozen-still; a few on the ground pleaded, praying. The masked men pointed their weapons at them warningly.
Her heart rate jumped.
This was more than just a gang fight – this seemed methodical. Frightened, her eyes darted to the other side of the alley, her path home just a few steps away. But she’d have to reveal herself… While they were distracted, she’d run. She would. She needed to get out of here quick. Like a mouse, she’d escape when the cats played with their prey.
There was the clink of a car door opening and a metallic thunk of it shutting firmly. A sigh echoed out into the air, disappointed.
“Please, boss.” The figure held to the wall managed to splutter out.
His captor pushed him up the wall with a violent thud before finally letting go. The man gasped and gaped like a fish as the dark figure took a step backwards to look towards his accomplice. The figure exiting the car didn’t have the dark masks like the others. In this light and smoke, she could only make out the shape of him. Clean cut short hair, the trail of cigarette smoke, the gleam of his teeth. He tossed the cigarette to the icy floor.
Click, clack.
Click, clack.
Click, clack, BANG.
A gunshot went off. His hand was outstretched in a flash; the pistol in his grasp smoking. A man on the ground let out a yelp of pain; his blood splattered against ice and stone. His hand grasped at his leg helplessly in agony.
“Shall we send a message to your pals?” the new man insisted, cocking his red-hot gun again and aiming it at the man his companion had just released from a chokehold.
There was pleading; names babbled over one another until they were unrecognizable. “Sir! Mercy please!”
“I think we should,” the deep-voiced man commented, nearly growling out his words. “We knew you scum thought this was some game. And here you made it all messy.”
His teeth gleamed and glinted with his snarl.
“Let’s make it messy in return.” He finished, nodding at the other.
There was a signal, and the men fired at the others at the two tall figures’ command. Gunfire, loud, fast, and hot, blazed out across the alley way. Her voice escaped her, screaming out. Hiding quickly out of danger, YN jumped back.
“What’s that?” a voice bit out. “You got some dame in this? Find her. Get her!”
They had heard her. Ice flooded her veins. She turned to run, only to run face first into a broad chest. She screeched out again, her hand raising to muffle it. By the looks of his attire, he wasn’t one of the gang members from the alley way. No, this gentleman was dressed nicely in a midnight-black tuxedo with a black cummerbund sash around his waist like he had been at the opera house. His face was firm, almost furrow browed as he righted her with a careful hand on her shoulder. He couldn’t be in this mess; he looked so polished and unaware.
“Mis—” He didn’t get to finish his statement as she interrupted him. Her hands shoved unlady-like against his sturdy chest, wrinkling what had been previously a fine-pressed white button-up.
“We’ve got to get out of here.” She hushed. “Now!”
Her eyes dripped of innocence, of protectiveness. Her fear was palpable. His intense brown orbs met hers and, without hesitation, he nodded. Surprisingly, despite his height and stature, he let her push and pull him away from the alley way and back towards the front of the now-abandoned opera house. She tugged him by the hand up the stairs, so they could stand hidden by the columns.
Her boots click clacked with each step of the stairs. More gunshots rang out; footsteps followed after them. She stumbled a bit, yelping; the mystery man’s free hand reached out to support her waist before he pulled her into the cover of the tall columns.
She could hear gunfire echo through the street, and she jumped with each bang, bang, bang. The stranger’s hand rose to duck her closer to the column rather than hide against it himself. Curling into herself, into the man’s side, the column, her eyes shut tight. This was a nightmare. The masked figures would surely come after them. They’d pull him away and then her, and what would happen next? She was shaking. There was yelling, shouting. She flinched. A loud whisper.
“Maknae?”
No reply. There was a crunching of snow, the moaning of men in pain. There was a long pause; she didn’t dare open her eyes. And then, there was the sound of footsteps walking away, heaving and thuds of something, and finally the squeal of car wheels going far away from the scene. The smell of gun-smoke and burnt rubber and gardenias (her rescuer’s cologne she realized) was all that was left.
A silence tumbled over the square like the cold water of an ocean’s tide, overwhelming and discombobulating. She stayed frozen for a long until a single finger poked at her shoulder.
“Miss?” he prompted softly; he shook her shoulder firmly then.
His tone sounded nervous, almost afraid. Of course he would be; she was afraid! It was frightening to almost be caught up in trouble. They had been so very close to being looped into a gang fight. She swore she’d never go down that alley or any alley again - ever. Shortcuts home be damned.
“It’s okay. You can open your eyes.” His voice was melodic, soft. Warm in this icy cold.
Her eyes opened tentatively, and she took in the sight of the gentleman in front of her.
He looked down at her with those intense deep-brown eyes, his dark hair mussed over his forehead. She could see his brows furrow at her in concern; his tongue peeked out to swipe over his top lip. His clothes, presumably for the ballet, were wrinkled by her man-handling.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, glancing her over with a quick look.
He didn’t let his gaze linger, but he hadn’t let his hand up from her shoulder either. She swallowed and shook her head as she shifted her shoulders, physically gathering herself as she replied.
“I’m okay, sir. Are you?” she asked politely. Her voice trembled still.
His face smoothed into something she’d almost call relief before he nodded. “I am.” He glanced out at the road. “They’re gone.”
He spoke to reassure her, the tone firm and resolute.
“Do you want to go to the police?” he asked slowly.
He seemed not too disheveled as he took a few steps away from her. His eyes remained on the nearby street, monitoring it. There was no sounds of moaning or pain. What had happened to the gang members? The gun fire was horrible; she hadn’t seen much. Except for red, red, red. No. No! She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want any reason for those men to come find her! They heard her. They had. Her hands rubbed over face; hours old makeup and sweat was sticky against her palms. It felt like blood for a moment.
It sent chills up her spine.
“Miss YN?” her rescuer prompted again, dragging her attention to him.
“No, sorry,” she babbled out. “No.” she confirmed firmly. Her arms wrapped around herself, tugging her coat closer.
“Are you sure?” the man’s brow raised.
“It’s easier to ignore these things,” she muttered out. “Safer. To not get involved.”
The man hummed low in his throat, melodically.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment, trying to shake off her fear. “For shielding me up here. And running away.”
“You warned me. You saved me I guess,” he chuckled. “Thank you.”
She smiled shakily before glancing back at the now-quiet streets. Her hands clutched her coat closer.
“Will you be alright, Miss YN?” he asked.
Her nod was preoccupied.
“I will be,” she told him, glancing up at him. He fit right in with the glamour of the opera house. She wondered why she had never seen him before. He was memorable. His face was handsome; his form strong in a different way to San’s but still imposing.
“I’ll be on my way. It’s late and I don’t want trouble. I’m glad that we are both aliv-okay.” she corrected.
“I understand,” he said. “You don’t want a chaperone?”
She didn’t even know him. She wished Wooyoung or San was here. She shook her head, and she took a step away, fiddling with her coat.
“I’ll be okay. Good night…”
“Jongho,” he answered, even if she wasn’t asking. “My name is Jongho.”
“Jongho,” she repeated. “Thank you again.”
He nodded, bowing at the waist.
“Good night, YN.”
He’d whisper, “stay safe,” but he knew he’d be following after her in just a little while. After all, her designated shadow was busy tonight, too busy taking care of business to watch over her. So, the once-street-mutt Jongho had been sent in his stead to watch over his lady. And Jongho couldn’t help but be curious about her. Even more now that he had held her in his arms and seen the sweetness of her soul in her eyes.
YN was safe in her bed that night when she realized she had never told him her name.
And yet he had said it.
-
Her motions were sloppy. Her pointe was weak. And her mind lost. She plied.
“Are you alright, honey?” San asked.
It was the next night - before showtime. San and Wooyoung somehow weaseled themselves into the boudoir before any other patrons could. Sometimes she wondered how much coin that costed them. The Madame had been strict with no patrons before shows – allowing the fragile privacy to warm up and prepare for the shows. It was so easily broken by the two men, but their eyes were only locked on her. And when she turned away to shimmy into a costume or fix a corset or a loose ribbon, they’d respect her. Glancing aside no matter how much temptation itched at their hands.
Wooyoung had offered once to lace her up, and he was met with a look of sharp disbelief – even if it was shadowed by a sweet blush. He hadn’t asked again, but he looked forward to the day he would be able to lace her up… and unlace her.
Tonight, they stood leaning against the barre as she continued to warm up. But, of course, San had caught her shakiness, her focus weaning.
His hand slide across her waist slowly, thumb caressing up and down.
“I’m okay,” she said honestly, leaning into his support as she lowered her leg off the barre. She flexed her feet and rose up on to a pointe for a moment before sighing out and turning to face the two men.
San’s hand ghosted after her waist, guiding her close as she came to settle between her patrons. She rested her bum on the barre between San and Wooyoung. Her pristine white costume made her look like an angel between two black-suited demons. Wooyoung flicked his cigarette bud into an ash tray he’d stolen taken from the front lobby of the opera house.
“I’m sensing a but,” Wooyoung teased. His fingers trailed lower that they had before, grazing over her the small of her back closer and closer ‘til… San slapped his hand, albeit lightly. She didn’t chuckle at his joke. In fact, it was almost like he didn’t joke at all. He frowned.
“Hm, swanette?” he encouraged again.
“It’s—things have been different around town recently. I just got scared last night,” she admitted, fingers trailing back and forth over the barre pole supporting them. Restlessly. “I think its just shaking me up today.”
“How so?” San asked inquiringly.
“I don’t know. I’ve seen two gun fights in the past month while walking home. That’s not normal. There’s all sorts of kidnappings or disappearances. It’s just,” she shivered, thinking of the fear that had clung to her bones since last night. “Scary.” Her arms wrapped around herself.
Wooyoung frowned, his thumb going to rub at her arm soothingly. He didn’t like her fear. He liked her smiling far more.
“You didn’t go to the police, honey?” San asked, brow pursing. Wooyoung glanced over at San.
“No,” she admitted. “It’s—not my business.” She shook her head a bit, not agreeing completely with her phrasing. “I mean, that’s how it’s always been. Ignore, walk faster, try to get away before being seen. If you mind your business, they’ll mind yours… unless you’re involved. I’m not. Never have been. But… there have never been gun fights. I’ve seen fist fights, even switchblades being pulled.” She shook her head again. “I sound silly. But I know there were gangs around town – I know the familiar faces of troublemakers, their tells – and they’re afraid. And if the monsters are afraid--”
She trailed uncertain. She sighed out again before her hands went to squeeze both of their hands that rested on the barre.
“Sorry, I’m just shaken up, that’s all. I’m spiraling a bit,” she reconciled. “Sorry.”
Wooyoung was first to cut her off. “No, no, pretty girl. Don’t apologize.” He soothed. “We don’t want you scared.”
“You weren’t hurt,” San clarified. It didn’t even sound like a question but still he said it.
She nodded in agreement. “Nope,” she showed her bare arms and twisted this way and that. As if it’d prove she was unharmed.
“Someone helped me,” she admitted.
San raised his brow at Wooyoung before the shorter began to fuss over her.
“My scared swanette,” Wooyoung pouted, huddling close. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he wrapped her in his arms. “Shall we walk you home from now?” he murmured. “San and I will be your personal bodyguards.”
“Uh, huh,” she teased lightly. “I’m sure you will.”
They’ve only walked her home on occasion. She knew it was in the opposite direction of the Ateez House. She didn’t expect them to walk her home. She wanted them to.
“Trust me, you’ll never get hurt around me if I walked by your side,” San promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek as well.
“I’ll make the ground you walk and dance sacred.” Wooyoung whispered. “Drench it in holy water for you.”
She laughed at that.
“Stop teasing me,” she giggled. “You’re being mean.”
“We’re not teasing, honey.” San pressed another kiss to her cheek.
“I’m sure.”
“Shall I carry you home instead? Like a damsel.” Wooyoung teased, arms sweeping underneath her legs.
Wooyoung was growing bolder by the day, and it made her cheeks flush. She let out a shriek of laughter, dragging the eyes of the other ballerinas their way. San raised his brow at them. Unbeknownst to YN, San seemed to harden when looking at anyone other than Wooyoung or her. He spun her playfully. Her mind rightfully distracted from her fear finally.
“You’ll never step foot on ground again while I’m around, Miss Swanette.”
-
It was dark in the restaurant’s backroom. Smokey and lowlight with flickering candlelight. The servers, the cooks, everyone had been pushed out, locked out. The long table was bare of any meal. Water in crystal glasses sat in front of each man. At the head of the table, there was a decanter of amber liquid with two empty pristine glasses. It was quiet, so quiet that the squeaking of rats could be heard in the floor board. Nervous eyes looked this way and that; bodies shifted and fidgeted. The door opened, and all eyes were sucked to into their orbit.
Two figures stood side by side. Matching Rolexes glimmered on their wrists as they both adjust their suits. One shoved their gold-lined, midnight-black suit’s sleeves up with little finesse while the other took his time, slowly peeling off his suit jacket before rolling his white button-up sleeves up. Slinging his discarded jacket across one of his broad shoulders, he then adjusted his black tie, a long silver ring encompassed his pointer finger of his dominant hand. It almost looked like a claw. The other rolled his neck, the glimmer of multiple gold and pearl necklaces matching his sneer.
Tall and taller glanced down the long table. Young and old sat there; most didn’t look like they had much. Fake luxurious hats with feathers, rings that didn’t sparkle quite right, and sweat-stained pinstriped suits. Some did have money. Their fat fingers rubbing their gold necklaces nervously. All of them shifted in their seats as the duo approached. One on each side of the table, they prowled.
“Gentlemen,” the one who spoke out first nearly growled his words in a snarl.
Rather than walk with his chin high like his companion, he tilted his chin to glare down the table. Dark eyes made darker still by anger. There was a laziness in his swagger as he walked behind one row of chairs; a hand trailed over each leathered chair.
“We have some… requests,” the taller one stated, a smile coming to his glimmering mouth.
-
YN watched as Imara grab Dohyun’s hand. Her words were hushed in the loud boudoir, unreadable. But she could see the panic, the tears twinkling on her lash line.
‘Don’t do this please.’
She could read the pretty dancer’s lips.
The bank owner yanked his arm away, harshly. As if they hadn’t touched Imara’s body up and down like it was his for over a year. He glanced about as he spoke, mouth moving too quick for her to catch any words.
He shook his head again as he turned and left the boudoir.
Imara had to pay for her dues the next day for the first time in over a year.
-
Wooyoung stood by his promise. Each night since, he or San walked YN home, winding through the streets with their fingers interlaced. Most nights it was him. He liked the shared time for just them he said. Sometimes, he grew daring and would wrap his arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. Like two lovers taking a stroll.
The following nights had been relatively calm; there were no gun fights, no gangsters. In fact, the streets seemed boring. Not a soul was seen around them except for, of course, her loyal following shadow. Not that she’d know. He was like a ghost, sneaking around the corners and alleys to keep them in his sight.
From the darkened corners of the streets, the figure followed after them night after night. His annoyance only growing as Wooyoung’s touches grew bolder in the solitude of night. With no one there, the idea of public decency was lost to the second-youngest. It wasn’t anything explicit. He just was touchy. Touchier than if it were daylight. Holding her closer, his touches longer, longing.
Longingly, he wanted to hold her; he wanted her to curl into his arms. Her shadow-man scowled deeply. Wooyoung truly was a brat he decided. Still, he continued to trail them from far away. But every now and then, Wooyoung would turn and give him a wink over his Swanette’s head. His hand sliding up her back, slow and teasing; his fingers tickled and trailed lower and lower on her waist. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled.
Wooyoung’s smirk was triumphant as his eyes flickered over to the shadow in the alleyway. Wooyoung was teasing. Teasing both of them.
She’d huddle closer after, and the stalking figure would whisper out a curse. Jealousy itched at his stomach, and he was sure to return home with a scowl. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted, and, while he was a gentleman, his thoughts felt not-so gentle. He wanted to hold her. Kiss her. Have her love him. He’d give her anything she wanted. He was already so weak for her, and they hadn’t even met.
He buried himself in the work that was piled on his desk, thanks to Hongjoong. Still, he’d get distracted, imagining fantasies of him and her. He spun a ring on the desk, the ‘S’ emblem on it taunting him.
Would he be able to see her perform soon? Seonghwa and Yeosang had visited. Even Jongho had. Maybe he’d convince Hongjoong to let him go to the foyer de la danse like Wooyoung and San were able to. Why couldn’t he?
The young man knew the answer like a bitter liquor.
Later that evening, Wooyoung and him would meet face-to-face. A smirk on his kiss-swollen lips as he popped his head into the higher-rank’s office.
“Had a nice stroll?”
-
It was a Friday, and Julia with the red hair had been given a private dressing room. That was all anyone could whisper and gossip about.
It wasn’t large. It didn’t even have a mirror or dressing table yet. It was a small closet of a space. But it was hers - exclusively. Her name on a golden plaque had been placed on the door with the title ‘Featured Ballerina’ etched below it. There was space for more.
The entire ballet troupe knew it had been paid for by her patron and wasn’t a result of any promotion amongst the troupe. She wasn’t prima; there was no way for her to achieve higher with no new show to audition for. It was all an act. It wasn’t talent. It was money and favoritism.
Meanwhile, Imara was despondent, cold as ice to anyone that gave her a pitying look.
Patrons came and went like the seasons – even if one thought they’d last forever, winter always came.
It made talking to either woman difficult. Julia was high on her excitement. The way she walked was like she owned the world. She would run off to her closet the moment she came off stage, even if there was hardly room for two people in the space, let alone warming up or staying warm. But, as YN exited stage left, she and the red head stumbled into one another with a clank.
They both yelped, flinching at the pain that radiated up their shoulders.
“Sorry,” YN apologized before her gaze rose and realized who it was.
“Hey Julia.” Her tone was sharper, less friendly than. Almost icy.
The red-head rubbed her shoulder scowling at the other before her own face dropped into an attitude of sorts.
“YN.”
It wasn’t said fond or with blooming respect like it had been before. Where was the respect that had been trickling down with San and Wooyoung’s support? Was it because Julia was still ever-higher than her? Was it because she had a dressing room now?
Maybe it was because they spotted one another outside of the ballet with their patrons by their side.
“Why did you lie to me?” YN spouted out, brows furrowing.
The other ballerina laughed out, too loud. She was almost heard over the orchestra playing a lofty tune as the White Swan jete’ed about on stage nearby.
“What are you talking about?” the other replied, dramatically hushing her tone.
“You said your patron never invited you out of the ballet.” YN stated. “But I saw you at the tennis match.”
There was a condescending tut that escaped the other, and it made YN’s eyes fall into slits.
“Oh, honey,” it was said cruelly. “You need to catch up. If you want to be like them, not be theirs, you must play like them.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve gone on plenty of outings with my patron.” She stated, fixing her hair.
“So, you lied,” YN clarified again, simply. What wasn’t clicking? She lied to her.
“I’m not invited; I’m expected,” she said. “I go where I want.”
Semantics. It made her roll her eyes.
“He pays for you just as mine pay for me,” YN commented. “Why didn’t you just tell me it was normal? I was worried.”
Julia finally sighed out.
“Listen, YN. Liars are the only thing that fill those rich homes. Even your boys.” She bit out. “You better learn the game, how to play it, and how to tell if someone is lying to you if you want to be upper-class so badly, YN. Otherwise, you’ll just keep playing pretend, and nobody wants a pretender.”
Then, without another word, the red head pushed past her with a huff.
-
The game. Julia had called it a game.
YN had always looked at the boudoir as a show. A performance between patron and protégé. Usually explicit. But Julia saw it as a game. What type of game YN wondered?
Was it chess? A game of wits? A game of checkers? A game of hopping to the next best thing?
Wooyoung and San didn’t see her as a game. This she knew in her bones. Their sweet words were too sweet. Their genuine excitement and care were a balm to her. But then, she glanced aside at Imara who was like a lost sock without her patron, use ambiguous and left lonely in the corner of the busied boudoir. She had thought the same thing about her patron.
Doubt crawled in. Trickled in her veins. Even as the pair of men strode into the boudoir after the show per usual. San fixed his vest, the white button up loosened and less appropriate, but pleasing to the eye. Wooyoung finished his drink, handed to him by the bulkier man obediently as they walked.
“Hello you two,” YN greeted.
“Hi, pretty lady,” Wooyoung replied. “How was your evening? You were lovely as always.”
“It was good.” she said.
Wooyoung presented his cheek to her, expectedly. With their increase in dates and walks home, he’d become openly affectionate now. Not that she fought against it. If she didn’t press a kiss, he’d pout but when she did a pleased hum would reverberate through his chest like a cat’s purr. It made her beam; his happiness became her pleasure.
She pecked his cheek, quick. He grinned and quickly engulfed her in an embrace. His lips danced over her face. Tiny millions of butterfly kisses were pressed over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. Giggles consumed her; his quirking lips hummed as he worked his way down to her jaw, underneath it, her neck, to her collarbone, before he was pressing fond kisses over her pearl necklace and up the column of her throat. Each one sent a tingle running through her.
“No pain?” San questioned, aware of how easily she bruised and ached.
She shook her head distractedly.
“Only a few more shows left anyways if so.” She commented. He gave her a scolding look. “Training will be less strenuous than performing. Surprisingly.” She chuckled, gasping out as Wooyoung pressed a deep kiss to the spot beneath her jaw. Not quite a hickey but close.
“Good,” the man replied. She needed a break San thought. He saw how her toes were a bright red through her tights.
“It’ll be nice to dance something new soon – but it’s bittersweet.” She just managed to get out.
San hummed out in agreement, pressing his own kiss to her forehead as he wriggled Wooyoung away from his honey to let her begin to dress into every-day clothing once more. She gave him a thankful look as she quickly went to change nearby. Her face was flushed, and her heart raced. How was her hair even more mussed from her bun? He hadn’t even touched it.
“I know,” San replied. “You must be excited?”
She smiled as she shed out of her feathers.
“Closing night is always such an experience,” she taunted.
It was. Full of celebrations, champagne, and influx of patrons spending their last pennies of the season.
“Will you be there?”
“Of course, baby,” Wooyoung cooed from San’s arms. She saw him ghost a kiss across his neck.
“We’ll be there for every closing and opening from now on.”
-
Wooyoung sat by her side, her hand in his as he gestured to the menu about this tea and that americano and this croissant. Their spread was already far more than either of them could finish. Large oozy cookies, steaming croissants with chocolate fillings, savory bite-sized tarts, and a large sandwich Wooyoung had already cut in half. One for him and one for her.
They had begun to have more dates like this; Wooyoung favored more intimate places such as cafes where they could cozy up close and share treats and talk while San liked to show her off at tennis matches and outings of public attention. She had liked it – but she couldn’t help but hear Julia’s voice in the back of her head.
Did she know her patrons?
Wooyoung smiled brightly and talked easily with her now; an air of comfortability was palpable as his fingers played with hers.
“Wooyo,” she prompted tentatively, interrupting his yapping.
“Hm?” he looked up from the menu, his face inquiring. Brows raised, and mouth squeezed shut.
“I have a question.”
“Ask away, swanette.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before letting go and flexing his arms to resettle his sitting form to look at her more attentively.
“Why is it you introduced yourself as a Jung? And not a Kim?” she asked.
“Force of habit, really,” he admitted. “Hongjoong insists on us sharing his name.” He raised his coffee to his lips, taking a sip.
“Because he helped you when you needed him?” she recalled.
His grin grew wide, amused. “Yeah.” He paused, biting his lip for a moment before he scooted closer. “He took me in basically. Which is why I consider him family, close as thieves just like Yeosangie and Sannie.”
“He’s at Ateez House?” she queried, fingering a cookie. Tearing it up but not really eating as she thought.
How many were at that mansion? Yeosang, San, Wooyoung… Hongjoong and Seonghwa as well?
“There’s a lot of you there.”
He nodded as he picked up one of the crumbs she was making and pressed it to her lips. His fingertips were warm from the hot ceramic of his coffee cup. He smiled fondly as she nibbled at it. Before raising the rest of the crumb to his mouth, licking at the chocolate melting on his fingertips.
She licked her lips as she watched, chocolate fragrant on her tongue.
“There are eight of us,” he told her. “Eight men in one house, you can imagine the chaos.”
He spoke as if they shared an apartment and not a grand ‘haunted’ mansion.
“What does he do?” she mumbled, half focusing on her attempt to solve the mysteries that had plagued Ateez House’s occupants.
“Eh, a lot of things,” he sucked at the crumbs on his thumb before reaching out a wiping a smudge at the corner of her lips. “This and that. Loves art and shows and spectacle. Is a bit of a collector, more than Sannie is – you know, San loves pretty things.”
She already knew where this was going.
“Like me, Wooyoung?” she teased, beating him to his flirt.
“Just like you, Swanette.” He nudged her tea her way, urging her to drink before it went cold. “C’mon, try this too.”
And like that, her mind was sucked into his fancies as he fed her a warm tartlet that tasted richer than any food she had ever had.
-
It was the first night Wooyoung and San would be unable to walk her home. Wooyoung was good at keeping his promise; he walked her home for many many nights. His babbling softened with his sleepiness which was cute. It was worth it to press a kiss to her lips before she went inside, and even more worth it when he caught the shadow of a figure watching them. He’d blow him a kiss – behind her back that is.
She was anxious to walk alone. Her stomach churned at the though. Wooyoung had apologized as they rushed off to something that needed their attention – him and San. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, promising she’d be okay. He’d see her tomorrow. Walk in the light and you’ll be fine, little bird. As if she walked anywhere else anymore – all her shortcuts scared her now.
It was too late to call for a carriage or a buggy to take her home, so it was the only way. Unless she wanted to sleep on the uncomfortable settee in the boudoir (and most likely be kicked out by the janitor early in the morning. She could hear the Madame already. “This isn’t an orphanage, Miss YN.” Despite the selection of orphans that made up their ranks.)
So, YN hugged her jacket around herself and began her trek home.
And it was so peaceful. Not a whisper, not a fight, nothing. The streets were abandoned – even the men who were stumbling home drunk were absent. It was absolutely empty. Except for her.
And her stalker, of course.
-
San was early at the opera house the next day– so early the doors to the boudoir weren’t unlocked yet. Instead, he lingered out front, pacing this way and that.
“Sannie,” she exclaimed at the sight of him.
How did he know she was going to practice early today? The question was quickly forgotten as she hugged him. His arms wrapped around her in a warm bear hug before he pulled back to press a kiss to her nose.
Sweet, that’s what San was.
“What’re you doing here?” she asked, smiling affectionately up at him.
They hadn’t shifted in their embrace; San kept her close to him as he looked down at her. There was clear fondness there. His fingers rubbed up and down her back, over her warm winter coat.
“I wanted to see you,” he admitted. “You look so cute in your coat.”
His words brought a flush to her cheeks. This was what she imagined when she thought of Julia’s words. No way could this be false. He was cooing over her, his touch reverent. It was different.
“I love it,” she replied. “It keeps me warm. Just like you.”
He laughed, warmly. He brought her close to his chest again, hugging her. It was funny. For as much as he claimed Wooyoung was touchy, San loved skinship. He liked to keep her close.
“I got you something,” he whispered after a moment, shifting one arm to reach into his pocket.
“What’s this?”
In his small hand (well, small compared to his broad form) sat a beautiful bracelet, teardrop-cut diamonds were linked together into a delicate yet unbelievably expensive gift.
“For you.”
San smiled like a content cat as he watched her fiddle with the pretty diamond bracelet. His dimples were deep in his cheeks. Her fingers brushed over the jewels admiringly. He loved pretty things and seeing her openly awe made him buzz with excitement. Carefully, he linked the clasp over her wrist and turned her hand over in his, watching the gems glimmer and shimmer in the gas light. He grinned.
“What’s this for?” she asked, brows crinkling curiously.
It wasn’t like Wooyoung’s gift – a month anniversary gift – or even San’s gift of the coat, something she had needed in all honesty. This was sudden. Strange.
His fingers brushed over the jewels before he spoke again.
“I was jealous that Wooyo had this pretty necklace around your throat.”
He leaned forward, fingering the pearls around her throat before tugging experimentally at them like it was a leash. They tightened with the pressure, choking her lightly and forcing her to lean closer to her patron. YN’s breath stolen, not in pain but in a flicker of excitement, surprise, pleasure. Her head tilted back to smile up at him. His fingers tightened around the pearls ever so.
“Oh, honey,” San cooed soft and sweet as he continued to tug her up by the collar of her necklace to capture her lips in a kiss. One kiss that devolved into many as he pushed her up against the door to the boudoir, lifting her lightly into his arms. Pressed against the door, her bejeweled hand tangled in his hair, tugging him ever closer.
They were lucky no one passed by as they devoured one another.
San may have been a gentleman, but his greed and power revealed itself slowly but surely.
-
Another man was missing. He had been a regular in the boudoir. A young man who spent his spare pennies to leer at them. He wasn’t missed by any of the ballerinas, but it was frightening. Too many people were disappearing or getting into trouble.
Her mother and the other ladies at the factory walked together now. To and from work, in case trouble arose. She had even pushed for YN to walk with someone to the Opera House for once.
“Your boy is a good one,” she appraised. “That Wooyoung walks you here every night now. Like a gentleman. Stick around him.”
-
San had invited her out to another tennis match. Wooyoung had been caught up in business (business she still didn’t know of, she lamented as they walked along the cobblestone streets. San had whispered in her ear that it was boring. Wooyoung was unlucky to not be here with her. And he, in turn, was ever lucky.)
She wore his pretty diamond bracelet on her wrist, and, every time he stole a glance, his face curled up into a pleasant happy grin. He looked sweet like a kitten.
His arm wrapped around her waist as they sat and watch Yeosang’s match. Drinking champagne, he’d offer her his flute every so often, and she’d sip away. It was an expensive brand, far more easy to drink than the piss-poor alcohol the ballerinas could afford for their own celebrations away from the leering men of the opera. Drinking the expensive liquor the men offered was never a good idea – it led to worser things.
Yeosang looked as pretty as ever. He reminded her of a ballerino the way he danced about the court. Somehow both pretty and masculine as his form bent and stretched. Muscles rippled, leaner than San’s but not any less bulging. His arms flexed and she held onto the shared flue of champagne tighter.
San’s fingers stroked over her hip.
“You’re staring, honey,” he teased.
It wasn’t the tone of a jealous lover or a scolding of a respectable man. It was lilting, gentle. Her eyes looked away from Yeosang and rested on her date. He sipped his champagne, lips pursing and brows dancing. San’s lids were heavy as he grinned. Just as cat-like as earlier but more cheshire. Like he knew a secret.
He glanced away from her and looked over the athlete. His gaze mirrored hers, she realized. A fondness… no, an attracted air radiated in his deep brown orbs.
Was he teasing her? Was he genuine?
“Now, you’re staring,” she teased in return.
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he replied coyly. He glanced back at her as he leaned in. “He’s handsome, hm?”
Her cheeks flushed at that and she looked away.
“San!” she exclaimed.
His laughter rumbled in his chest as he held her closer. His lips pressed to her ear intimately.
“It’s alright, honey. He’s mine. Just as Wooyoung’s mine.” He replied easily. “Just as you are mine.” His lips kissed her skin before he pulled away. Her hand shifted to grasp his in hers. His thumb grazed over her bracelet lovingly.
-
Yeosang greeted them after his victory; the zing of celebratory champagne on his breath stinging her nose as he leaned forward to wrap her into an eager hug. Daring for a second-meeting. It made her worry she had been too obvious with her friendliness, her intrigue… her interest in the athlete. She did like him after all.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he beamed.
The smell of his cologne mingled with his sweat. Masculinity mixed with the soft thyme and tea of his perfume. It made her want to hug him closer. He pulled back, his eyes burning with the same intensity beforehand. A straightforwardness. He wasn’t afraid to meet her gaze. His honeyed eyes were sweet and inquiring. Taking in every feature of her – the dark coat, the pearls, the diamonds. He smiled.
“Hello Yeosang. Congratulations,” she returned.
The man nodded respectfully before he glanced over her shoulder at the tall muscled man, eyeing Yeosang with clear adoration.
“San,” he greeted.
“Yeosangie,” San replied with a fond grin. His cheeks were blushed, maybe from the champagne they shared?
The athlete rolled his eyes lightly, playfully, before he settled his gaze on the lady.
“Did you make any bets?” he asked curiously, leaning into her with intrigue.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she exclaimed. She hadnt even thought of that; she was a guest after all.
“You know what? Yeosang’s right,” San retorted. His hand squeezed her waist. “Next time, you should bet some coin. We do all the time.”
Her brows crinkled, doubtfully. Not because she doubted Yeosang’s abilities. He was a powerful athlete. But betting… she swallowed a bit. She didn’t have much money to risk in general. She had just gotten used to having extra coins in her coinpurse. Her embarrassment burned at her ears.
“I’m not sure,” she said softly.
Yeosang eyed her before he hummed lightly. His gaze settled back on San, firmly.
“I’ll do it for you,” San said instead, downing the rest of his drink. His eyes reopened from the gulp and he shrugged. “I’ll buy you anything, honey. Everything.”
Yeosang laughed, lips curling. Pleased. He leaned in to whisper close.
“You’ve got our San, sweetheart. Wrapped around your pretty finger.”
The athlete’s fingers were close by still, and they tickled her fingertips playfully. If he was any bolder, he’d be holding her hand. But instead, like a tease, he pulled back. Licking his lower lip and flashing a charming smile that only a socialite had. Easy and well-practiced.
“I’ll buy you anything, too, baby,” San purred towards Yeosang. He looked at the buff man with a raised brow. He always looked so sharp, in a delicate way despite his rippling muscles.
“I know,” he teased.
Yeosang raised a hand to squeeze the younger’s cheeks fondly. San smiled, pleased, a mirror of the grin he gave her earlier. His cheeks looked plump in the other’s lean long fingers. Yeosang chuckled, squeezing them again before his hand dropped and he turned.
“Come with me,” he nodded over his shoulder. “We can talk in the shade – the weather is horrid.”
He was right; the clouds were whirling and swirling into what was sure to be a downpour soon. They walked further into the tennis court’s shaded areas – the betting shop in the corner with a long line. People, mostly men, were cashing in their rewards. San’s hands went to rest on the small of her back; if she had glanced aside, she’d see he did the same to Yeosang, guiding the pair of them this way and that.
A rush of reporters, dressed for the weather with raincoats and large brimmed hats, flooded towards the winner. Yeosang slung his black tennis racket over his shoulder, smiling and waving at the flashing paparazzi’s cameras. Her eyes shut at the bright lights. San’s hand squeezed her waist and tugged her closer.
“Sir, congratulations!” There were cries of celebration and excitement. “Good show! Good show!”
YN wasn’t used to such fanfare, and it made her fantasize of the flashing lights she was hopeful for. One day… she glanced over at Yeosang. She’d be like him. Successful. In his own right. He grinned politely at a reporter, waving with a tight structured wave.
“Mr. Kim! Is it true you know Kim Yunho?” she heard over the chatter.
Yunho… she had heard that name before. But where? She didn’t have time to think as San guided them throughout the crowd, his hand curling over her hip to keep her closer with the writhing crowd jostling them this way and that.
The athlete didn’t reply, and he let his friend guide him through the swarm until they entered a tented area. Once the tent’s curtains were tied together, Yeosang huffed.
“I despise paparazzi,” he admitted, scuffing his feet against the concrete as he walked.
The space wasn’t special, but it was private. Scattered about were a few folding chairs, a wrought-wire bench, and a grey-green locker. Yeosang went to it, and opened it with ease. Within it wasn’t much. A folded assortment of clothes, a letter plastered to the locker’s interior, an extra racket, and a water jug. He placed his dark racket within and picked up the water jug. Raising the glass jug to his mouth, he took a big gulp. San patted her hip encouragingly as he moved away going to sit on the nearby bench. YN tentatively took a seat in a folding chair.
“Your performances of Swan Lake are coming to an end, are they not?” Yeosang queried.
“Oh, yes. They are; will you be able to attend closing night… or any show anytime soon? I’d love to see you there.” she admitted.
Yeosang’s lips quirked against the water jug’s rim before he pulled it away. Swallowing, he nodded. “I would love to see you once more, Miss YN. In your element.”
“You must encourage him to come backstage,” she turned to San. Less asking and more pressing.
He nodded in agreement. Easily swayed by his lovers, he leaned back in his seat casually.
“Is it like this?” Yeosang asked; a hand went to push back his locks, sweatied and damp.
The sight of his sharp brows quirking in curiosity sent a flare of excitement through her. He was so handsome; she couldn’t help but awe. San chuckled at her ogling.
“It isn’t, Yeo.” San admitted. “The backstage is grand and too open with too many girls running about half-dressed and men staring at them.”
Yeosang’s eyes flickered to him. “Even our girl?”
San glanced at her, head tilting. “Not as of late.”
He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it in between his lips. The look he gave Yeosang confused her – sharp, dark, and biting as he bit down on the cigarette before fiddling with a silver lighter. Yeosang hummed lowly.
“San and Wooyoung are polite,” she said, as if that would help the conversation. As if that was the topic at hand. “They’re the best gentleman in the boudoir. Honest.”
San grinned around his cigarette as he finally lit it. He knew she spoke the truth. She always did around him now. It made him happy to know she was so comfortable around them that she didn’t even notice the glares he sent the way of any man that dared eye her as she switched costumes.
Little did she know what would happen to one if they did.
He puffed out smoke.
“I’d rather see you outside this boudoir then,” Yeosang commented, closing the locker’s door. “I don’t wish to see you improperly, sweetheart. I wouldn’t put you in that situation.”
“We don’t mean to either,” San coughed out, the smoke scattering about bashfully. He turned to look at her with the gentlest of eyes. “You’re painting me to be a villain, Yeo.”
“No, I know,” she interrupted. “I know San and Woo mean well.”
They had said so since the beginning. Wooyoung claimed he didn’t even know he was playing as potential patron until San said so. And now, well, she felt safe around them. When she was with them, when she was introduced to Yeosang, it made her feel permanent. Not a doll on a music box to show off around the right clientele.
Imara never had this.
“Still,” Yeosang tutted. “I’d hate that. If I had those reporters watching every little move I made back here.” He bared his teeth. “I’m sorry you have to suffer that, sweetheart.”
-
“Do you want diamonds?” San asked.
This was the fifth time he had asked if she wanted some grand gift as they walked home. The umbrella San had kept them mostly dry in the drizzle. YN knew he felt bad about the boudoir. Especially at Yeosang’s commentary.
“No,” she let out a chuckle.
“More pearls?” Not his favorite thing, but they looked pretty around her neck and they were useful.
“No,” she giggled, swinging their conjoined hands.
“Then what, honey?” he whined a bit, sounding childlike as he squeezed onto her hand.
She was surprised this bulky beefy man was acting so openly whiney in public. He didn’t need the illusion of masculinity to cling to; there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude. Even if he was acting like a child.
“I’m okay,” she said.
He licked the back of his lips. Doubtful. He frowned before stopping in the streets. The lamplighters were out and about, lighting the last remaining candle lights amongst the new gas-line lamps. He didn’t falter. He didn’t care if they were intimately close. His hand around her wrist as he pulled her close in the wet setting sun.
“What do you truly want, honey?”
What did she truly want? She smiled up at him. All her life she had only wanted and yearned for one thing – til Wooyoung and him and Yeosang all tumbled into her life that is.
“I want to be a ballerina. The ballerina prima,” she told him sincerely. Her hand rose to pat his cheek softly. “You are helping me get it.”
His lips pouted as he looked down at her. He didn’t like that answer. That was a harder request. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Instead, he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her lips, so quick one would’ve missed it if it hadn’t tasted of champagne and cigarette smoke. His sweetened coffee cologne wafted over her soothingly like a chaser.
-
“Extra edition!” a newsboy cried out.
YN had been walking towards the newest restaurant that San and Wooyoung insisted on trying. It was expensive. Far too expensive for her, but San insisted per usual and Wooyoung pouted that without her he’d be bored. So, here she was walking the streets towards the richer side of town. The richer side of town where all the newsies made their routes; the rich had money to spare.
“Star tennis player Kim Yeosang associated with Kim Yunho, the man released on 1 million coin for murder in broad-daylight! Shocking details revealed.”
Now, that caught her attention. Her feet slowed until she came to a stop. For once, it felt like the newsies had given just enough information to lure her in. Her coin purse pressed against her thigh was heavy. Heavy enough to spare a few coins to buy the paper.
“I’ll take one, Jack,” she told him, digging into her pocket to hand him the necessary amount.
The younger grinned up at her. “Thank you, Miss YN.” He shuffled the heavy stack around, untying the twine to present the fresh-printed and warm newspaper her way.
She nodded in thanks as she unraveled it and began to read.
-
San and Wooyoung sat in the corner of a restaurant, talking lowly in the shadows as they waited. Only to be interrupted by a newspaper being plopped down on the table. Their eyes shifted from one another to the newspaper. Doubtful, almost darkened looks were engrained in their faces before they glanced upward to see their swanette. Haloed by the light pouring into the café, her arms were crossed; brow raised. Their expressions softened immediately like butter.
“Hello, honey,” San rumbled. He tugged the chair out for her.
“What’s wrong?” Wooyoung added.
They hadnt looked at the paper yet.
“What the fuck is this?” she murmured, taking the seat easily as she shoved the headline their way.
Wooyoung licked his lips at her expletive. She didn’t curse much in the boudoir. Hearing it made his cell burn, biting at his lower lip after a moment. He glanced down at the paper; that hot feeling fizzled at the headline. He sighed, head rolling back, before he glanced San’s way. San’s expression hadn’t shifted; not even a twitch of his brow as he looked over his glasses at his partner.
“It’s a long story,” Wooyoung replied.
“I’ve got time,” she retorted, crossing her arms. “Start with the part where Kim Yunho is living in your mansion. Kim Yunho, the man who shot a near-billionaire, dead, in broad-daylight after a supposed bet gone wrong.”
Her voice raised as she retold what the inky print said. She didn’t look intimidating in their eyes. Especially with her pout. San wanted to kiss it off her. Instead, he offered, “Yunho’s got a complicated past, but he only acted in self-defense.”
“He shot a man in broad daylight. Is Yeosang safe? Are you?” she worried. “Hongjoong?”
Wooyoung scooted close at that, hating the way her voice accelerated. San chuckled lowly, shaking his head.
“Oh, little bird,” Wooyoung hummed, taking her hand. “We are safe. We are safe. You don’t need to worry – is that why you are so upset?”
She frowned at them, her furrowed brow deepening. Wooyoung cooed.
“You are, oh, baby,” he hugged her, nearly joining her on her chair. “You are sweet, YN.”
“I’m worried; you are with a criminal,” she mumbled out, making sure her words were too loud. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Wooyoung stole a kiss. “You really are a doll, an angel. We are okay I promise.”
“You can’t just kiss me and tell me it’s okay. How? How is it okay?”
“Yunho is a free-man,” San reminded. “He didn’t break out of jail; he served his time; he paid his fees; he was let go. But apparently caught the attention of the press while doing so.”
“Poor Yeosang,” YN lamented suddenly. “He hated the paparazzi and now-“ she buried her head into Wooyoung’s shoulder.
The younger cooed. His hand going to pet at her back as he glanced over at San while her back was turned. There was a rustling of the newspaper, the crinkling paper being folded over.
“Yeosang will live. He’s been reported on his entire life. Yunho will not hurt us, promise, honey.” San replied. “You’re working yourself up. I’ll get you tea.”
There was a snapping sound of his fingers. A waiter obediently came. The man whispered his order as Wooyoung murmured to YN.
“It’s alright. It really is. You’ll see.”
San and Wooyoung’s eyes met once more.
They should’ve let Yunho meet her before this all happened; their shared grimaces said so.
-
Not even a day later, there were rumors about town. That night whispers about her patrons were all about the boudoir. The Ateez House truly was haunted some said. It had a killer living there. It made her scoff. There were seven others in that house – how could you build a house to be broken and haunted by one person?
The next day, a man from the newspaper company, the Cromer Chronicle, was missing. He had disappeared in the night without a trace. Or well, there was a trace. A letter saying he was going on vacation for a while. But few believed it.
Gossip roared. What was even more interesting, was that the newspaper headlines the next day were completely free of any mentions of Kim Yeosang or Kim Yunho.
But on her vanity, a letter rested with her name in an elaborate script signed by a certain man. The seal was the same ‘A’ emblem that both San and Wooyoung wore on a gold ring.
Miss YN.
You are cordially invited to join Kim Yeosang at the Ateez House estate for a night of fine dining. Casual attire permitted. I am so excited to see you again – if you will join me!
Yours,
Kim Yeosang
“Did you place this on the vanity?” she asked the two men who sat side by side on a sofa. Sometimes they looked too close for comfort; tonight was one of those nights. Wooyoung was nearly draped across San’s chest, his head cradled on his muscular shoulder as he stared up at her.
“No, swanette,” Wooyoung claimed. “Our hands are clean in this.”
He raised his hands in surrender, wiggling his fingers playfully at her.
“Yeosangie must’ve liked you,” San added with a smirk.
“You’d know,” Wooyoung muttered; San grasped the other’s hip warningly.
Wooyoung giggled out almost like a hyena, head tilting back in mischief.
“You should’ve seen how he looked at her, Wooyo,” San continued, his gaze flickering towards YN from over his spectacles.
“I know,” the other giggled.
“Will you be there?” she asked tentatively.
Her fingers fiddled with the corner of the thick cardstock Yeosang’s handwriting graced. She was used to their presence. They felt safe to her. They glanced at one another. San’s fingers trailed up and down Wooyoung’s waist. Wooyoung went to interlace their fingers smoothly. Squeezing it once and then twice.
“I’m not sure, honey,” San said. “We have business to attend to this weekend.”
“Sorry, pretty,” Wooyoung pouted at her. “We may see you in passing? If you miss us so much, we can meet you here early the next day. I want to hear all about you and Yeosangie.”
She smiled sweetly at them, flushing at the idea that the pair of them encouraged her to dine and possible flirt with another. It was strange but not… unfavorable. Yeosang was handsome. He was delicate but strong. Eloquent and interesting. Understanding. She liked his company. Despite the company he kept… her mind flickered back to the elephant in the room… or yesterday’s newspaper in the nearby waste basket.
“Is… Yunho –“ she asked, shifting this way and that. San couldn’t help but think she looked so sweet, so innocent, so naïve in her little feather tutu, all virginal white. “Is it safe for me - with Yunho there?”
They didn’t even need to look at one another. Wooyoung’s hand held San’s tighter as he shifted his gaze to simmer on her.
“Yunho would never hurt a lady, honey,” San replied, sincerely and instantaneously.
His hand outstretched for her to take. Which she did. It was San after all. Secure, sweet, strong San. He’s been so straightforward. She trusted him. His fingers caressed over her knuckles, “Especially you.”
“Okay,” she breathed. “I believe you.”
“Yeosang will be excited.” San promised, raising her hand for him to press a kiss to her knuckles. “We can deliver the news to him when we get home.”
He pressed a peck to each knuckle before continuing up her hand to press kisses over his bracelet. He placed a final sweet kiss to her pulse before pulling away, and pulling her towards their embrace. San could hold both of them in his lap after all. Wooyoung slid further down on the settee until his head rested on one of San’s thighs. His lips curled.
“I will send a car for you, swanette. You won’t have to lift a foot,” Wooyoung promised, reaching a hand up to tuck hair aside as she sat on San’s rippling thigh. “Easy-peasy.”
-
It was her first time in an automobile. She had traveled in carriages and open buggies but never something so expensive as a brand-new automobile. Something so polished and metallic and rich. Her excitement was almost like a child’s; her smile was bright at the sight of the car sitting curbside. Its lacquer was a deep-olive color, gleaming in the golden sunlight peeking out of the rain-heavy clouds. The chill that nipped at her heels and the rain that itched at the sky made her thankful that Wooyoung had sent a car for her – even if every single one of her neighbors were being nosey. She could see their faces pressed to their windows with curtains shoved aside haphazardly. No cars came here. And certainly, no car like this.
The driver was tall and handsome, his dark brown hair styled sharply across his forehead. A multi-layered suit with shimmering gold detailing looked expensive on his form, a long-coat making his appearance look clean cut and sleek. Just like the car.
His entrancing eyes were dark, siren-like as they locked onto her form as she hopped gracefully down the icy steps. He felt his breath catch. A mix of excitement and fear tumbled through his stomach. She looked so pretty. Her hair was done nicely and modern. Her day-dress was a pretty (if a bit washed out) green color, complimenting the car’s hue perfectly. The sparkle of her pearls around her throat and her diamond bracelet peeking from beneath the sleeve of the dark fur coat made him smile. His full lips quirked into a smirk of a close-lipped smile.
His eyes haven’t left her form yet. Not even when her mother stepped out to awe at the car and the man waiting for her on the curb.
“Hello, doll.” He greeted her, polite with a deep-voice.
His hand, covered in multiple rings, opened the passenger door for her.
“Hi,” she smiled at him, and he wanted to swoon then and there. But he stayed firm, icy, tall. It wasn’t his turn. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. But he knew the way to her house; he had a car. And he was higher than Wooyoung or San in the hierarchy. He’d do what he wanted to do… as long as the Captain allowed that is.
His eyes didn’t leave her as she entered the automobile, tucking her dresses beneath her lady-like. He closed the door behind her and circled around the car to enter the driver’s seat. He took a shaky breath before entering; he felt like a school boy. When was that a feeling he’s felt recently? (The Ateez House would say every time he whined and pouted at them like a princess.)
The interior of the car smelt expensive, too. The well-taken care of leather, the wiped down metal accessories, everything reeked of rich maintenance. Her eyes ate up the new machine, looking at the gearshift, the polished controls. There was even a record player in the dash.
She never realized how rich they were. It surprised her. He ate up how her eyes widened, and she sat so delicate, hands in her lap as if touching something would bite her. She was so cute. His lips curled into a smirk as he turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and she let out a little sound of surprise.
He chuckled low, the sound reverberating around her. She glanced over at her driver. He looked casual in the driver’s seat. One hand was on the wheel; the gleam of an expensive watch shone at her. He was leaning back, his hand cupping the back of her car seat carefully as he began to pull the car away into the street.
He didn’t want to intimidate her. Wooyoung had said she was already so nervous about Yunho. So, he didn’t speak, didn’t tease, didn’t do much except drive. He enjoyed her gaze on him though. He watched her so many times that it made the back of his neck and the tips of his ears burn pleasantly. He tongued at his canines, hiding his smirk. His plush lips pursed instead.
Her awe shifted as he sped up, her eyes flickering to the streets that passed by, faster, faster, faster. Faster than any carriage or bike or trolley. It sent a whirl of excitement in her stomach.
“This is my first time in an automobile,” she admitted into the silence.
“It is?” his voice was deep as honey, and it made her spine tingle.
He glanced over at her. He wanted to show her so many new things. He was glad to have one of her firsts. Wooyoung had stolen so many. Her first date, her first kiss, her first embrace. He’d at least be her first car ride – one of many. He’d take her in any of his cars – if they were in the countryside rather than the city, he’d show her how fast these automobiles can go. He’d impress her. They’d go one day, he imagined. They’d go all sorts of places together. He’d show her the world if she wished it.
She hummed out in agreement, pulling him from his daydream.
“It’s nice,” she complimented, shifting her seat.
A flood of rose-petal aroma consumed him. Her perfumed skin. She put so much care into this; into them. It was intoxicating. His eyes locked on the road, his fingers trembling lightly. He flexed his hand and gripped the leather of the wheel tighter.
“Thank you, darling.”
The car ride was a quick one. Ateez House was on the outskirts of the city but not too far away to be a long journey. Just far enough to be private amongst the trees and rolling hills. It looked more alive than it had ever been in all the years she lived in Cromer. While the estate was sprawling and the mansion itself large and imposing with a complicated layout, it always looked abandoned. But now, there were crystal windows gleaming with light, gardeners trimming bushes, and luxury cars pulling into a nearby car garage. People tended to the large fountain in the center of the roundabout driveway, despite the threatening rain that rumbled in the sky. The mansion’s greyness seemed to fade with the orange-light the windows poured into the evening.
It was a phantom resurrected; the flame of life was burning within the house once more.
Mingi cleared his throat. “Welcome to Ateez House, YN.”
Her eyes were locked on his home; winding over the overlapping rooftops, grazing the glowing windows to see if anyone was looking out at them. Two figures, dark silhouettes at most, stood on the upper floor, one short and the other tall.
Her head tilted in curiosity before they walked off.
“Thank you,” she smiled at him before going to open her door. “And thank you for the drive.”
There was a squeak of leather as he shifted closer suddenly. His arm outstretched over her, bracing over her chest. Her gasp was all the sound that filled the air between them. Her head turned and they were nearly nose-to-nose.
He was so close. The blood-orange of his cologne licked at her senses, mingling with the polished leather so refreshingly. He smelled intoxicating and sharp. His face was only inches away; the fabric of his long-coat brushed against her. His hand closed around the metal handle of the car door, gently nudging hers aside. He laughed out nervously. His eyes were wide and gentle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he flashed the sweetest grin she had ever seen, all toothy and bright. It sparkled… wait, he had diamonds on his teeth. His canines were adorned with gems that gleamed in the setting sun.
“Let me,” he bumbled out. He opened the door from within, before pulling his arm back. His cheeks were painted a rosy color that only made his flustered appearance look more sweet.
“Thank you,” she said, offering him a grin of her own.
She hoped he wasn’t too surprised by her own initial surprise. He was just trying to be a gentleman she realized. Bowing her head, she quickly ducked out of the car, closing the door behind her with care.
The only thought that filled his brain – besides the intoxicating smell of YN – was ‘damn you for winning, Yunho.’ After a long moment of breathing the remains of her deep into his lungs and watching her form walk towards his house, Mingi restarted the automobile with a rumble to guide it back to their private car garage.
-
Everything reeked of extravagance. Tall walls with recess ceilings and wainscotting details. Gilded gold and glowing gas-lamps. Italian-Renaissance inspired tiles of saints, angels, and the Heavens were inlayed in the ceiling. The floor was patterned, a rich expensive textile making up the carpet.
There were butlers lining the walls of the foyer; all in matching midnight pin-striped suits. It was almost eerie. They were like statues, repeating over and over and over. Expressionless. Each face was stoney, eyes ahead. It reminded her of when the ballet troupe lined up in their matching leotards and were separated by height; row after row. Slicked back hair, delicate body lines, starving ribs. Identical and indistinguishable until they reached prima title.
None of them acknowledged her except for one, a rogue, that walked up and nodded at her politely.
“Welcome to the mansion, Miss YN. Please, come.” He outstretched his hand to encourage her further into the lavish space.
She curtsied, uncertainly. One of the many ghostly butlers took her coat as she walked down the foyer’s hall. Her kitten heels were soft against the carpet flooring until they rounded a corner. They click-clacked across marble flooring, polished ‘til she could see her reflection.
“Mr. Yeosang has requested a meal to be prepared at the West Wing. Please follow me.” The same butler spoke once more before he turned to lead the way.
Following after him, she was awed by the space. The very place that had been teased and taunted and ghost storied about was a gleaming jewel. As they walked, she realized how each hallway, each living space was opulent. The current path had walls that were painted an ice-cold baby-blue. Yet there were touches of warmth everywhere. Fine art in gold-leafed frames, elaborate trims around columns and the floor were the same shining gold. The art was all heavenly. Literally. Gods, angels, and disciples portrayed in blurred brush strokes, painted with colors that ached of softness. Everything was all gold, fluff, and magnificence.
The ceiling had multiple heavy hanging chandeliers of pure jewels. Diamonds dripped from its wire frame and sparkled in the gas-light. Everywhere was gaslit; she was surprised. No one had notice workers here and yet it was modern. Not a speck of dust or age present anywhere – besides the ancient art she supposed.
She slowed as she passed a large Renaissance-esque painting full of cherubs with feathered wings and glowing haloes. Squinting, she saw one figure wearing a ski mask. Huh? A cat meowed nearby. Her attention was caught, her head turning to the sound. She stilled as she glanced down a nearby hall, one that seemed darker than the others. Doors lined each wall; all shut except for one at the end of that hall. It was opened just a crack, the siren call of a piano trickled out, and a little cat peered around its corner. The sweet cat was a midnight-black, almost blue-ish in tone; her tail twisted behind her as she meowed out again.
YN’s eyes lit up at the sight; the cat meowed again as it wiggled itself out of the doorway. Its paws and claws clinked against the tile, almost in rhythm with the piano music playing. Large green eyes peered up at her curiously as the cat approached; the collar around its throat was expensive – a leather thing with jewels, pearls, and a large silver bell that jingled out the closer it got.
She meowed at her again.
The piano stopped; the reverb humming out discordantly.
“Z?” a voice called out before a gentle melodic whistle chimed out.
The kitty’s attention was caught again, its ears perking up and meowing as if answering the call of its owner. It began to stroll back where it came from.
“Miss YN,” the butler’s monotonic called out.
Her head snapped towards him, answering his call immediately. She stood from the slight crouch she had taken for the kitten’s approach. Her butler stood some feet away, arms behind his back. She expected a disapproving look, but he provided none.
“Please follow me, Miss. We wouldn’t want you disappearing.”
That was almost worse! It sounded so ominous coming from his stone-faced mouth. She swallowed.
“Sorry,” she apologized before she quickened her pace to catch up to him.
“We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
They continued to walk down this hallway and that hallway. Someone could easily get lost here. It was like a grand castle. Finally, after crossing some carpeted stairs, they were in front of a grand hallway of windows. As they passed, she could see a dreary exterior. Rain had begun to pour, fogging the outside in grey. But she could distantly see a maze of hedges, rose bushes, apple trees, and all sorts of gardens awaiting. She awed at the sight as they continued down the carpeted hall to come to a set of dark oak doors.
“One moment, Miss,” the butler warned as he entered the room quickly.
“Boss, er, sir – “
The doors shut behind him before she could hear any more. She was left alone. YN glanced aside at the wall opposite of the windows. There were inlayed gas lamps, glowing a soft yellow. A portrait hung nearby, painted in a similar style as the painting she saw before.
It was of a young man, a handsome one at that. His inky-black hair was slicked back in shiny waves, a singular strand curled over his forehead daintily. He was in all white, soft silken tunic and oversized bowtie of virginal white. Despite the softness of his attire and of the atmosphere surrounding him (he was almost painted with his own divine halo as if he was an apostle), there was sharpness to his midnight-black eyes and the smirk of his mischievous smile. His ears were pierced up and down, pearls and fine metals looping them in sparkles. A twinkle was shining at the corner of his grin as if his teeth gleamed in the heavenly light around him. He was beautiful, but she couldn’t help but feel like his dark eyes were staring her down.
The tall doors opened behind her suddenly. YN turned to see the reveal of a dining hall as luxurious as the rest of the mansion. But the aroma that wafted from its interior was far more intoxicating.
“Enter, Miss YN.” The butler encouraged, beside the door.
He held them open for her as she took a stride inside. Her lips widening into a smile as she prepared to greet Yeosang at the head of the table. But this was no Yeosang she realized as she gazed down the long, lavish table to meet the dark gaze of a stranger.
With a calculated look, he stared at her from the head of a ten-chaired, decadent table of hot food. It was more than she had eaten in months even with San and Wooyoung: sizzling side dishes, steaks covered in thick luscious sauces, cracked fruits that had a sweet nectar gleaming on them, chocolate-oozing pastries. An open bottle of red wine rested in a frosted chest of ice; eight crystal glasses sat upside down. One glass of red wine sat in front of her spot; the other in the grasp of the man’s hand. The ruby liquid gleamed like blood. A sea of lit-candles decorated the spare space of the table; the chandelier above keeping the candles instead of trading them for their gas-lit counterpart. The orange glow illuminated the intimate room in a hazy feel. Smoke trailed out of his mouth in a long plume, perfuming the delicious air with the heady scent of tobacco.
“Hello.”
His voice was a soft drawl. His close-lip smile was the same. Soft, slow, and confident. His eyes were illuminated by the flickering candles, making the darkness there look like a night sky spattered with stars rather than with blood. He tapped his cigarette into a crystal ash tray with his long fingers. Rings after rings curled over his knuckles; some sharp and some with the emblem ‘A’ just like San and Wooyoung shared. He raised the cigarette back to his lips to take another drag into his lungs.
“YN.” The smoke billowed from his lips as he spoke her name tenderly.
She should’ve left then, knowing it was different from what she had agreed to. She should’ve asked him where Yeosang was immediately – and who was he? But she already knew, didn’t she? She had worried about this man since she read the newsprint that bore his name.
She shifted, fingers tugging at her skirt as she heard the heavy wood doors shut behind her. The butler that led her here disappearing, leaving her with him. Her fingers pressed into the door behind her, tentatively. It didn’t budge beneath her. In the shadows of the room, she saw there were men lining the wall. Like ghosts, they didn’t speak or move – they simply stood like gargoyles surrounding a castle. One broke the line to pull out her chair opposite of her dining companion. Her eyes flickered back to the man at the head of the table.
“Hello,” she said instead. “Yunho.”
It wasn’t a stutter, but there was a pause in her words. Yunho’s laughter was almost fond as he chuckled out a plume of smoke before she was urged forward with a flick of his hand. Ashes splattered across the white dining cloth, sizzling burns into the fabric. She sat down in the chair pulled out for her; the servant pushed her in towards the table with a screech of the wooden legs against the wood.
The silverware in front of her was polished, gleaming in the candle-light. A perfectly folded napkin rested on the center of her gold-lined plate. The initial ‘A’ in a circle was embroidered fancifully in shiny black thread on the pristine white fabric.
Her fingers flexed against the wood arm rests of her chair as she looked down the table, over candles, meats, cheese, and vegetables at the intimidating man. He was far away, but perhaps that was the safest option for her.
“I like you already,” he proclaimed, his words solid and confident. His smile simmered.
“Please,” Yunho gestured to the piles of food in front of them with a hand, swinging the cigarette and a trailing path of smoke about. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Her stomach felt tight with nerves, but even so it grumbled at the sight before her. Everything smelt so nice and rich and oily. Decadent. She licked her rosy lips, dragging her eyes up to look at him once more.
“Where’s Yeosang?” she asked finally.
He smiled, a peak of glimmering teeth shining in the candlelight. No, it wasn’t his teeth that shined – it was the inlayed diamonds on his canines that twinkled. Just like the driver. Just like the painting.
“He’ll join us,” Yunho reassured. “He’s running late from a previous engagement. I promise.”
Her gaze was doubtful. Why didn’t he just tell the driver to alert her? She could wait. She was used to waiting upon rich men.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I was curious of you.” He stated as he raised his cigarette to his mouth once more. As he breathed out, he gestured again at the food. “Please help yourself. Wooyoung told me some of your favorites.”
There were her favorites; steaming and hot. Some tartlets from their recent date sat on a pearlescent serving tray. Tempting. Her stomach grumbled. Watching him carefully, she reached out a fork to stab into a piece of meat and plating it.
“I’m just a ballerina,” she claimed, eyes flashing to look at him as she picked up her utensils to cut at the singular item on her plate.
Yunho’s lips quirked up on one side before he glanced aside at a man. He nodded towards her and she couldn’t help but jump as a suited butler approached. Yunho’s gaze took in the small tension that rippled through her.
The butler began to pile up her plate with this and that. Steaming vegetables, savory pastries, fluffy mashed potatoes scented with garlic, sticky soy-sauce braised meats, pasta with a rich cream sauce, seafood with clarified butter. It was more food than she could finish. The amount of food laid out was enough to feed eight men.
“You’ve entranced my brothers for being more than just a dancer,” Yunho commented. “I wanted to see what was so special about their swanette.”
She swallowed, her throat dry. She felt like a trapped bird in a zoo being observed. She tried to imagine the boudoir around her rather than the intimacy of a dining table.
“I’m a good dancer,” she told him boldly. They like bold, an older ballerina’s voice was in her ear once more.
Yunho smiled. “I heard. I apologize for never attending a performance.” He said.
“You’ve been… busy,” she said. But not too bold. Another ballerina warned.
It was a dig, and Yunho knew it. She knew it too with how wide her eyes became. And still, his lips curled into a smile, his eyes simmered.
“Its no wonder Wooyoung took to you,” he breathed.
He raised his glass of wine to his lips and took a long sip. At the mention of Wooyoung, he saw the way the muscles in her face flickered. Lightening. Interesting. Placing the glass down, he leaned forwards, hand resting under his chin as he stared at her, intrigued.
She was intriguing. She had four members of the family wrapped around her little finger and here she was in his sticky webs. Yunho ached to figure her out, dive deeper. The vein in his forehead bulged a bit with his intensity.
His eyes felt magnetic. She had cut up her slice of steak into tiny bites at this point, but all he had done was stare at her. He had not a lick of food on his own plate. It felt more like an interrogation than a meal at this point.
So, she stared back. Her eyes met his, swallowing down her fear. The twisted mangled amalgamation of fear, intrigue, and something else. She was safe, she chanted internally. Wooyoung promised. San promised. He hadn’t done anything to her…yet.
She took in his appearance. While his eyes were a hypnotizing thing, his entire face was like one of a siren’s. Handsome with chiseled features. Sharp cupid’s bowed lips, sharp brows, sharp clean lines of his suit. A pair of glasses were tucked into his pocket… he needed glasses just like her Sannie. Her eyes darted up the line of his throat. His hand rose to bring his cigarette back to his lips. He tilted his head, the midnight-black hair swaying over one eyebrow smartly.
How were all these men so handsome? The driver, her patrons, Yeosang, Yunho. All breathtaking compared to the oil-grubby handed rich men of Cromer. It made her soften just a smidge, guard walls lowering as he breathed out smoke once more. Lips pursing delicately. Cheeks soft, she noticed. It was quiet. The clinking of her utensils against her meal was the only sound in the hall.
“Do you like dancing?” she asked. Dancing was safe. Dancing was all she knew.
“Enough,” he said. “My brothers like it more than myself.”
Brothers he said again. It was strange. Wooyoung spoke of the others as friends, dear ones – explained that the shared last name was something pushed upon them. Yunho embraced it.
“Then, sports?” she countered. “Tennis perhaps?”
Yunho chuckled lowly, and it felt like a tiger’s rumble. “No,” he laughed. “Not particularly – though, I have good hand-eye coordination.”
Her mind flashed to the shooting the newspaper relayed – a fictionalized imagining in her head bloomed. Him and his gun aiming and firing with ease, just like that man in the alley way.
“Oh,” she breathed.
He wondered if she knew how blatant her face revealed things. Her fear, her thoughts, her soul. It was strange though. Yunho didn’t want her frightened.
“I play against Yeosang often,” he clarified.
“Oh,” she repeated, a different tone trickling into her exclamation. Her knife scraped against the plate’s china, screeching out suddenly like a soprano at an opera house. Her gaze turned to it, surprised.
Her meat was completely shredded now. Almost inedible with how much she had sawed into it over and over.
Yunho laughed again, the sound warm and full. “Darling,” he cooed out, soft. “Please relax and eat. I insist. Yeosang won’t mind.”
Yeosang. Of course, that’s why she was prolonging it. Her smile was bashful and Yunho’s eyes swallowed it up just like she bit into a piece of her meal finally.
“Will you not eat?” she asked.
Innocent, sweet. Yunho’s eyes simmered as he reached out to grasp a fruit from an intricately weaved wired basket. He bit into a red apple, sharp and vicious. Juice dripped over his fingers, down his chin. He raised a black napkin to the corner of his lips wiping it away. His eye contact never ceased. Did he just wink?
“How long have you lived in Cromer?” he asked.
“My entire life,” she admitted.
He hummed out. “And the ballet almost as long I suppose?”
“Ballerinas are taught young,” she said.
“The best way to shape someone.” He snubbed his cigarette out in his ash tray.
“I suppose,” she admitted. “But I love dancing. Truly.”
It was spoken sincerely, passionately. He nodded. “It’s been mentioned. They say one can tell by just the way you breath. You are full of it.”
“D-dancing?” she queried.
“Love.” he countered. “Passion.”
Her eyes blinked owlishly. “Oh.”
“Do you love them?” he asked directly. His head tilted curiously.
The topic had shifted in tone dramatically suddenly. Her heart raced to its hummingbird speed once more. Her face blushed. Yunho drank it all in like the wine in his glass.
There was a clambering down the hall way, muffled by the oak doors. Her gaze broken from his, and she looked over her shoulder at the doorway.
“Here he comes now,” Yunho whispered.
As predicted, Yeosang came busting through the doors. His hair askew, his eyes burning with the cruel fury she had only seen on the court. His elegant clothes looked rumpled; the softness of his sweater that cut into a deep v revealed more skin that she had seen of the sportsman yet. A rose was pinned on his chest, gentlemanly, and yet somehow tempting her to stare at his chiseled chest more. A decorative scarf wrapped around his throat, disheveled.
He glared at Yunho with such contempt before it was washed away at the sight of her. He glanced her up and down, quickly as if his lingering gaze would be scolded. Appropriately for such an inappropriate action. His lips parted gently; his rounded face soft with a gentle blush.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he immediately apologized, head bowing.
The long strands of russet-brown hair that framed his face swooped over his cheeks. His hand rose to tuck one strand back. “I was caught up with something unexpectedly.”
With little show, she stood, discarding her utensils to greet him. Her smile was soft, reassuring, genuine. She ducked her own head to catch his gaze – he was still glaring through his lashes at the man at the head of the table she noticed. But when he saw her own face come into view he straightened sweetly, awkwardly. But in such a charming way somehow. Yeosang was so charming even in his anger and discomfort. She didn’t want him to be in discomfort.
“Its alright,” she reassured him.
“We’ve just been chatting,” Yunho chimed from the end of the table. Unhelpfully.
Yeosang adjusted his leather gloves nervously, tugging them off finger by finger.
“I see that.” Yeosang rumbled.
His eyes settled back on her like she was his seas’ moon.
“You look lovely, YN,” he complimented. Her smile lit up the room, he swore.
He licked his lips, deep voice humming out as he looked over the table.
“I-I,” he gestured to the table, the meal he had ordered the chef to prepare, “I have those tarts you liked at the café on Riverfield Street.”
She smiled at him; he was so cute.
“Thank you,” she grinned. “And I saw. They look perfect.”
He breathed out a little, fixing his clothes once he tucked his gloves into his back pocket.
“It’s been perfect,” she tried to reassure him, sensing his anxieties. His blooming nerves. Her hand reached out to squeeze his.
He jolted at her touch, just enough for her to catch it. His ears were red. Yunho’s grin was wide, sparkling.
“Thank you for the invite.”
“Of course, I wanted –” he glanced at Yunho’s leering gaze. “I wanted to get to know you better, sweetheart.”
“And we shall,” Yunho agreed. “Sit, Sangie. Let’s eat.”
A butler appeared to pull out a seat for him. It wasn’t near either of them, in fact. It was the third seat to the left side of the table. Yeosang glanced at the butler silently before pulling out the chair directly beside YN and seating himself.
He was served a selection of the meal, silently. She went to break the silence.
“How are you?” The headline still brandished itself in her mind. His words about paparazzi left a lasting impact.
Yeosang huffed out. “Well,” he replied. “News articles come and go. I’ll remain on top of my game regardless.”
Yunho nodded steadfastly from across the table. “It’ll be nothing by the next game.”
Yeosang offered her a smile. “Thank you for worrying about me. I’ve survived worse.”
She nodded solemnly. “I don’t like it still.” Yunho watched the interaction carefully. His brow quirked.
“How are you liking Cromer?” she asked. She was used to asking men how they enjoyed the show… but that wasn’t an option here when the room lulled into silence.
“It’s different. But I’ve seen places as beautiful as Aurora, as desolate as the Strictlands, and as rural as Paradise. Cromer reminds me of Aurora in a different way.” Yeosang explained. “It feels homely.”
She smiled. “Ateez House is yours, correct?”
“Its in the family,” Yeosang replied.
“What do you think of it?” Yunho queried.
“Its very nice,” she politely said.
Yeosang tilted his head fondly at her. “Meaning?”
Her brows crinkled in surprise. “Its—nice?” she repeated.
“Shall I remind you what San encourages you to do, sweetheart?”
To be honest. How did he know about that? Her neck and ears became a soft pink in the candlelight. Swallowing, she glanced to the side.
“It is genuinely nice – its just… this house has been called haunted my whole life,” she told them. “There are ghost stories linked to this mansion. It’s strange being here and seeing that it is, in fact, not rotting or some supernatural force of nature.”
Yeosang chuckled out, smiling sweet.
“There are stories?” he leaned in. “Do tell!”
“I love a good gruesome story,” Yunho commented.
But for some reason, the way the words lilted in his tone didn’t make her flinch like before… in fact, was he teasing her? Her eyes flickered from Yeosang’s open form to Yunho. His cheek rested on his hand; elbow pressed into the table as he eyed her with Yeosang.
He smirked at her as they met one another’s eyes. He nodded, urging her. And so, YN went into the ghost story she had been told as a little girl, sitting among the tutu’ed training ballerinas while her mother did alterations on the prima’s show-stopping costume.
“The story goes that this house was home to a Captain,” she started, twirling pasta about her fork as she spoke.
Yunho and Yeosang’s eyes locked.
“The Captain was no ordinary captain; he was the fiercest pirate king of all. With his crew, the Black Pirates, they terrorized the seas and reaped countless treasures. When he grew old and hoarding like a dragon, he docked at Cromer under a false name. Ateez House was built upon blood-soaked jewels and coins; they say the pirate captain passed in his vault, hidden deep in the mansion’s basements. His bones are still there, unrested. His ghost terrorizes the house and refuses to let any soul except his pirates’ prowl.” She dramatically told.
Her fingers wiggled sensationally. “Or that the treasure was haunted by those they robbed and killed mercilessly. Their ghosts remain and haunt these halls.” She shrugged her hands landing back in her lap. “The story changes every so often.”
“What a story,” Yunho breathed. “Do you believe it?”
“It’s just a story. Maybe there are some real parts but… ghosts aren’t real. I’m not that silly of a girl.”
“You aren’t,” Yeosang commented immediately.
“But everyone in town knows it, so it sticks,” she told them, reaching out for the glass of wine in front of her and taking a sip.
“Cromer loves its gossip.” Yeosang commented.
“They’re stuck in their ways,” Yunho added.
“What do you think of Cromer?” she redirected to Yunho.
He took a small breath in. His previous grimace faded and his brow crinkled as he looked at her thoughtfully. His lips pressed together before replying.
“At first,” Yunho said, tilting his chin. “I did not like it… but now…”
His gaze felt hot, ever present. There wasn’t a barrier of modesty she often felt with other men. Yeosang’s was intense. San’s was careful, observant. Wooyoung’s eager and challenging. Yunho’s was steadfast. Confident. Even the men in the boudoir knew there were limits. They had their wives. They had their image with the other men within the boudoir itself. Here she felt both hunted and examined. Admired but equal. He was looking at her soul.
“Now, I like it.” Yunho purred. “Very much, darling.”
He placed his silverware down with a clink. He leaned forwards, hands pressing into the table.
“There’s more to you that meets the eye,” Yunho commented. “I see that, so now I will let you speak your mind, truthfully.”
Her heart nearly stopped. Was he going to ask her about her love again? In front of Yeosang?! Her eyes remained on him steadily. Her ears burned.
“You’re frightened of me, yes?” he said.
It was strange to feel relief at the confirmation of something so horrible. Because she was still nervous around him, for his boldness frightened her just as much as his previous actions. Yeosang’s eyes shifted to her, widening as he watched her nod.
“Sweetheart,” he reached out for her hand, petting her phalanges but not grabbing it. He simply wished to reassure her. Just as she had done for him earlier.
“San and Wooyoung said I didn’t have to be,” she replied. She licked her lips.
“Ask me what you want to know.” He stretched back into his chair, neck flexing as he met her gaze.
“Is it true? Should I be frightened?”
“That’s not it,” he laughed a bit, lip curling almost scornfully, scoldingly. He raised a brow, head tilting as if weighing his options. “But no, you don’t need to be frightened. Ask another.”
“I don’t have another question.” She countered, only to state simply and firmly. “You shot a man.”
And he smiled. “I did.” Yunho confirmed.
“On purpose?” she asked.
“Yes, darling.”
Her blood felt cold. She hadn’t met someone like him and it sent her stomach into a cramping mess. Yeosang did take her hand now. Interlacing his fingers softly. He glanced over at his elder as he rose from his chair. Oh, Yunho was tall. Very tall, in fact. With them sitting, he looked giant. His heels thudded against the floor.
“Why?” she asked. Yeosang felt her hand tighten in his grasp.
“He tried to fool me, steal from me,” Yunho stated, walking towards them. “Lied to me. I don’t like being played.”
There wasn’t a moment for the words to sink in for YN. Instead, like a game of tennis, she shot back.
“So, you shot him? Just like that?”
“For your information, yes.”
“That’s frightening.”
“Yes.” Yunho was beside Yeosang now.
“But!” Yeosang was the next to interrupt. “If you must know… Yunho isn’t some cruel man, sweetheart. It was done in self-defense.”
“Self-defense?” she asked doubtfully. Wooyoung and San said so themselves as well.
The air that Yunho carried seemed to be more than that. He wasn’t exactly proud, but he was at peace with what he did. Yunho’s face pulled into a tight thing as he rested a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. They both looked at her inquiringly.
“He pulled a blade on Yunho,” Yeosang interjected. His gaze flashed to her. “He has the scars to prove it.”
They had an answer to everything. It was self-defense. Not a thing of violence. Of necessity.
She stared at them
“It wasn’t… he struck first?” she repeated slowly.
They glanced at one another before smiling at her with dual grins. Yunho tapped his fingers on Yeosang’s shoulder before he pulled back. A hand went to his chest, gentlemanly and earnest in nature.
“Yes.” He ensured.
Her eyes flickered to Yeosang. He had been a sensible figure – likeable, nothing formidable. If he trusted him, if her Wooyoung and San did. Yunho spoke with such authority. He valued truth just like San did.
Her defensiveness, something she didn’t even see in her body language, softened. Yunho’s sigh was one of understanding as he walked back to his seat, stealing a glance at her. He smiled again, his teeth gleaming in the cande light.
“YN.” He spoke her name luxuriously. “If there is one thing you should know about me. I don’t do mess.”
He plucked a dessert from his plate, biting into the chocolate with slowness. Calculated. He kept her gaze. It sent a thrill through her; he sent a thrill through her. Swallowing together, the corner of his lip curled. He raised a napkin to his lips, gentlemanly.
He was a gentleman, straightforward and powerful. He had to be telling the truth.
“I’m not a messy man, darling-doll.”
The dinner didn’t last much longer. Yeosang encouraged conversation; Yunho threw in some topics, mostly of things she had mentioned to San and Wooyoung. It struck her then that they shared many stories about her. They must’ve talked about her a lot. It made her cheeks flush as red as the chocolate strawberries Yunho ate.
Their eyes were hot on her; it felt like they were captivated and it made her heart race. Like she was on the stage.
She liked it.
Surprisingly, her two patrons made an appearance at the end of the meal. Wooyoung, of course, was the one to pop his head into the grand dining room.
“Swanette!” he beamed at the sight of her.
Yunho took in how her shoulders softened and her chest heaved at the sight of Wooyoung, at his voice. He smiled, softer and truer than any other smile he shared tonight so far.
Wooyoung was dressed the most casual she had ever seen him. A fashionable patterned white-and-black button-up shirt was barely buttoned, revealing a black ribbed tank-top beneath it. His hair was pushed back casually and messy; a rolled cigarette was behind his ear. His slacks were a deep black, loose and flowy rather than a structured fabric.
“Woo,” she barely got out, her mouth dropping at the sight of him.
He smirked, arms slinking over the chair and over her shoulders.
“Hello hyungs,” he greeted the others, barely glancing at them before ducking his head and pressing a less-than-decent kiss to her mouth. Smothering and all consuming. She squeaked into it. A ringed hand rose to cup her guide her head in the kiss, icy cold against her flushed red cheek.
Yeosang and Yunho chuckled out. The sound was a mixture of fondness and annoyance. Yunho’s brow twitched. Yeosang’s hand held hers tighter… he hadn’t let go, of course. But YN hadn’t noticed the entire dinner and dessert. ‘Til now. Her fingers flexed in his as Wooyoung swiped his tongue across the seam of her lips.
“Alright,” San scolded Wooyoung, his hand going to the back of the shorter’s neck. He nearly pried him off her. “Wooyoung!”
“I missed her,” Wooyoung said simply, flushed face and breathless.
His hot breath fanned over her rosy face; his lips were spicy and left hers burning. Mischief twinkled in his eyes as he stole another kiss from her lips. San pulled him back again with a harsher hand.
It was then she got a glance of her other patron. San had freshly washed hair, the locks combed out and dripping over his forehead. He wore a similar tank top to Wooyoung, but in a white shade. Shockingly, he had a pair of workman’s light-washed blue jeans hugging his thighs. Thick thighs, muscular shoulders, tawny honey skin. It was tantalizing, tempting. But when she looked over his face, her mouth dropped in surprise. A bruise kissed at the corner of his lips; his sweet smile tarnished with a purple-red watercolor splotch.
She couldn’t help stand immediately, half in the clutches of Wooyoung. Her hand rose to cup San’s cheek.
“Honey!” he exclaimed out in surprise.
He didn’t shift away, actually bending at the knee for her height, but San was certainly surprised. He had taken the lead between them often. YN rarely made the first move with either of her patrons. But what he had mistaken for sexual tension only led to pain. He was shocked when her thumb’s brush against his lips made pain radiate up his face.
“Ow,” he whimpered, frowning. His brow furrowed.
Yeosang laughed nearby. “He forgot he’s hurt,” the athlete commented.
“It’s been a while,” Yunho added, finishing his drink as he watched the interaction play out.
San’s lips pressed together, blinking rapidly before taking in the concern look on her face.
“Oh, honey, I’m okay,” San tried to reassure. His hand rose to cup her hand that was pressed to his jaw, thumb brushing over it soothingly. “It doesn’t even hurt.”
“You just said ow, you liar,” she scolded him, brows furrowing. “What the hell happened?”
“I’m fine,” he swore, tilting his head to press a kiss that stung his mouth to her palm. “Promise.”
“This town is getting more and more dangerous,” she breathed out.
Her thumb brushed over his cheek softly. His pretty face marred. Without his glasses on, she could see how his eyes sparkled in the chandelier’s candlelight. Soft and starry, as if she hung the world.
“You are an angel,” he murmured. “I’m okay. I’ll live.”
“Wooyoung, will you tell me what happened?” she prompted, not moving. Wooyoung pressed to her side made a humming sound.
“The streets are rough around here,” he said. “Someone really ought to fix that.”
Yunho huffed from across the long table.
San smiled at her again, eyes falling into half-moons. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips stung to do so, but she was worth it. “Thank you for worrying.” He told her. His stomach did somersaults at the thought of her jumping to his aid.
“Shall we walk you out, swanette?” Wooyoung directed instead, head tucking over her shoulder to look at the table. “Yunho has a meeting to attend unfortunately.”
Yunho hissed in through his sparkling diamond-inlayed teeth. “Does the—”
San nodded.
He breathed in through his nose before offering YN a simmering smile. Full of warmth. “It was lovely meeting you, Miss YN. I hope to see you very soon.” He bowed politely before with long-legged strides left the room. Wooyoung winked at him as he passed.
“I’ll join you,” Yeosang offered YN. “You must come visit again soon – in the spring, the gardens are beautiful. We could have tea or -”
“Yeosang likes to take long strolls through the gardens – even if it’s raining,” Wooyoung revealed, finally peeling himself off her back to look at the selection of food laid out. He plucked a grape from a platter.
“You gossip like the upper-class now,” Yeosang commented, raising a brow.
Wooyoung laughed brightly at his friend before popping the fruit into his mouth. “Eh, they rub off on you – I had to keep up with you, Sangie.”
Hmm, it was an interesting interaction. Playful but also… strange. She knew their pasts implied they hadn’t always been wealthy… Yeosang had been a protégé tennis player at a young age but how did he meet Wooyoung? Was it all because of Hongjoong?
San’s hands squeezed her waist. When had both of his hands shifted there? “You sleepy, honey?” he asked.
“Too filling of a meal,” Yeosang complained as he rose to his feet.
As if the food was her reason to getting lost in her head.
“It was perfect,” she countered, taking a step back. “Thank you again for the invitation.”
“Thank you for gracing us,” Yeosang replied, offering her his hand. She took it, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A picture of a gentleman. But he was quick to wrap her arm up into his, pulling her into his side now. Surprisingly daring for the Yeosang she knew.
“Shall we?”
Their exit seemed to take forever just as before. Yeosang lead her down hallway after hallway after hallway. It almost felt like they were navigating a maze. San and Wooyoung framed the two in; Wooyoung on her side and San on Yeosang’s.
“How was Yunho?” San prompted, tentatively. “He didn’t scare you?”
“Did he frighten you – when you were alone with him?” Yeosang repeated, arm tightening around her.
“No, no, he wasn’t frightening,” she reassured them. “He was a surprise certainly.”
“Ah, Yunho was sneaky. He doesn’t like the opera, so he found his own way to meet you,” Yeosang sighed. “I feel like he caused the trouble for me on purpose, so I’d run late. You’re popular around here, sweetheart.” He squeezed her arm teasingly.
“Who else here?” she chuckled. Seonghwa? Hongjoong? She hadnt yet to see either of them – like they were ghosts.
“You’d be surprised,” Yeosang commented before leaning in and admitting. “I quite like you, too.”
He made her cheeks burn red, and Wooyoung giggled.
“She likes you too, Sangie,” he crowed out, fingers reaching to tickle her waist. “I’ve seen her blush over San, over you… Do you like Yunho as well?” Wooyoung queried, his words becoming less and less playful. They were almost inquisitive, as if testing the waters instead.
There was a crack as he lit a match across a gold-leafed frame. He placed the cigarette that was behind his ear to his lips and lit it.
“I did,” YN told him, honestly, as they continued through the foyer. Wooyoung chuckled out, smoke puffing out in front of his face in surprise. He wasn’t expecting her to admit it so fast.
“Not like that,” she interrupt his giggles, face burning. “I just—”
Looking down another hall they, she made out Yunho’s form, tall and slim walking down the hall with purpose. His back to her as they turned into the foyer finally.
“He was kind. Even if he was a bit intimidating… he wasn’t cruel or harsh. Just… confident.”
Yeosang smiled close-lipped. Wooyoung blew out his smoke to the side, the plume passing over the butlers’ faces. Not one flinched or coughed.
The smell of expensive tabacoo wafted over her face warmly as Wooyoung walked in front of them to push open the large heavy doors of the mansion.
“So he wasn’t so scary after all?” he teased. “Wait ‘til you meet Hongjoong and Hwa-hyung. They’re properly-”
“Wooyoung, don’t tease her,” Yeosang defended.
The younger raised one of his hands in defense as he held open the door for them. “I’m just saying – she got pass the guard dog.”
“She hasn’t met Jongho yet,” Yeosang giggled lightly. “He’s truly got a bad case of looking gruffer than he is. He’s our baby.”
Jongho. She had only heard that name once, and it was that night. Her ears rang.
“Jongho?” she queried softly.
He had been at the opera! He was one of their ‘brothers’.
“Or Mingi--Ah, here he is now,” San commented, smiling over at the man standing in front of the green-painted car.
“Hello,” the driver greeted, voice as deep as earlier. His eyes flickered to her arm in Yeosang’s.
Wooyoung smirked at him. “Mingi, I didn’t know you were driving today,” he said.
“I thought you and San were doing business today.”
“It was a fast deal.”
Mingi looked unamused, his siren-eyes looking him and San up and down. “Uh huh.
“You know a Jongho?” she turned to Yeosang as they spoke.
“Jongho is the youngest of us. You’ll meet him soon, sweetheart,” he reassured, squeezing her arm. “He’s busy too often. I think they overwork him; he’s just a boy.”
“He’s only a year younger than us,” Wooyoung commented with a pout.
“He’s a baby,” San agreed offhandedly.
“I think I—"
“Is she going the hell home or not?” Mingi bit out. Before looking bashfully at her. “Sorry, doll,” he apologized for his gruffness. “I’m not used to a dame being around.”
“Its okay,” she mumbled out. Her mind was preoccupied with trying to figure out why Jongho was at the opera… without his supposed family knowing.
Mingi pouted at that. “No, its not.” He admitted. “Don’t take disrespect.”
Her distracted gaze rose and nodded softly, not really processing his words.
Wooyoung tsked out. “Here he goes about respect,” he sighed out. “Hurry up, swanette, or else we will be here for hours.”
There was a rumble of chuckles in the group. Yeosang squeezed her arm once more before pressing close to her ear, cheek to cheek. A whispered “next time it’ll be just you and I, hm?” was hushed into her ear before he unwound himself from her and allowed the others to hover about. “I’ll see you next time, Miss YN.”
San pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised. “And again, I promise you, I’m fine.” He pressed another kiss to her hairline before guiding her into Wooyoung’s arms.
He was warm and smelt of smoke. His grin was playful, wolfish as he leaned down and stole her lips into a kiss. He was getting bolder and bolder. His kiss was hot, a lick of his tongue into her mouth this time. She squeaked and he chuckled deeply.
“Mmm,” he moaned as he pulled away just a fraction. Wooyoung smiled as if he was innocent but his teases were devilishly. “Perhaps I should call you little mouse instead of swanette.”
She pushed at his chest, playfully. Wooyoung tugged her closer, grinning. Her face was akin to a rose.
“Let her go, Wooyoung,” Mingi said from the side. His face was sharp as he glared at the other. He didn’t appreciate the teasing. “She must be tired.”
Wooyoung heaved a sigh as if this was the hardest thing to do. He pouted at her before stealing a kiss, pressing a peck to her nose. “Fine,” he relented, unwinding her from his spider web embrace.
“See you soon, pretty. Mingi will make sure you get home safely.”
Mingi nodded steadfast before he offered her his hand.
“Shall we, baby-doll?”
-
Next time, when she woke, it was to a cat’s sandpaper-esque tongue licking her cheek. Little tiny licks with the familiar nuzzle of her wet nose, Z investigated her like any other day. The little more-blue-grey-than-black cat sniffed at her, the talkative pet meowing loudly. Her green eyes blinked slowly at her before she nudged her cheek with her forehead once more.
Her body didn’t burn. It didn’t ache. It didn’t feel like anything. Whatever drugs she was on, they were good. She blinked at the kitten, slow to do anything once more.
She was still in Yeosang’s room. The smell of him was all around her, Jongho’s familiar gardenia aroma mingling in the sheets. YN tried to move. Pushing herself upwards was easier than before but the slightest shift in her legs reminded her of the heavy casts that wrapped her ankles. The pain nothing like before but there was still the zing up her knees that made her pause. Her breath caught as she stared at her limbs before her.
Her reality. Bedbound, grounded. It was a depressing thought. Even more depressing when she realized she wasn’t sure what day it was nor what hour. How many shows had she missed? Did her mother know she wasn’t well? Was she just the same as those folk written about in the papers? Missing and forgotten.
She let out a shuddering breath as she laid back into the fluffy luxurious pillows, contemplating what to do. Should she cry out for them? Hongjoong was the last face she remembered but she didn’t want to see him. Or Seonghwa. Or any of them. Really. Anger burned her throat like the nearby fire place. Z’s whiskers dusted over her arm, nudging at her for attention as she let out another inquisitive meow.
“Leave me alone, Z,” she mumbled into her pillow. The little tongue peaked out to lick her again. “Stop, Z; go away.”
Her tone was raising with her rising grief. That was the only way to describe what she was feeling grief – a mixture of hoping, pleading, that everything had been a dream only to be reawaken to reality. Anger and sorrow clashed like cymbals in her head.
The cat nuzzled her again, and she snapped this time.
“Z, go!” Her hands shifted the quilts aside in a huff, making the little cat hop away, back arched.
“Z, come here,” a voice, melodic as it was masculine, called. The doorway creaked open, the gaslight in the hallway illuminated his figure, bulky in the best way. “Love isn’t in the mood to play.”
She frowned over at him, even if Z hopped off the bed and went towards Jongho eagerly. Her little body pressed against his leg as she passed him, purring softly. He smiled after his kitten before his gaze settled back on his love bed ridden.
“Hi love,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”
“Angry,” she told him.
“But not in pain,” he smiled.
The youngest crawled up onto the bed, sheets rustling and ruffling as he settled beside her. Jongho wasn’t one to be silenced by a glare or dirty look. He was made for this world – his hyungs’ beloved aegi was used to getting what he wanted. And she was his baby. His love. He wanted her.
She turned her rageful eyes his way. He simply smiled just like the others. “I know,” he hummed. “I tried to warn you.”
He had. He cried to her last night… or a few nights ago? Her anger was quenched by those tears now. Her eyes softened just a smidge, and Jongho took a mile. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss. His arms wrapped around her ‘til she was caught in his embrace, warm and coddled.
He indulged in the way she didn’t pull away or yell. He had heard her shouts at Yeosang’s attempts at affection.
“What happened? I remember waking up in pain – why?” she murmured into his chest. Trying to gather information from when she was asleep.
Even now, she felt safe in his embrace. It caused a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.
He heaved out, her head rising and falling with his chest. “You had an infection – the doctor said it was possible dirt from that alley way. It entered your injury for too long. He fixed it.”
“Is he alive?” she mumbled.
“By Yunho’s grace.”
She felt the ebbing and flowing rage, the despair rush over her again. Almost as if sensing it, Jongho shifted, his chin tilting into his chest to look down at her. He moved to tilt her own chin to meet his gaze. Fiery passion burned there. He liked it better when her passion burned for her dancing… but he supposed it had to go somewhere while she was incapable.
“It’s the way things are,” he told her. “Stop fighting it.”
Stop fighting and give in. Look what fighting did. Just let them control her…
YN scoffed. “I’m not some doll,” she bit back. “Or some—"She wriggled like a worm on a hook. Jongho’s eyes ached, and he reached for her hands. He cupped them in his. His bloodstained ones. How many time had he scrubbed away ichor? Dug it from under his nails? Her hands were dainty.
“It’ll never touch your hands,” he interrupted earnestly. “You’ll never bear it. Our work. Our lifestyles. If that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“I’m bearing it now,” she whispered to him, voice breaking. “I’m afraid of you.”
He frowned, his face firm and thoughtful. He was always thinking her Jongho. He never stopped. His thumbs brushed over her palms, his forehead pressing to hers intimately.
“You tried to leave,” he said. “I didn’t want this. None of us did. If you hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“You understand what that means – I’m just something you control like your butlers and your members and your-.”
“No.” Jongho interrupted soft and earnestly.
“You are no pawn, my love. You are our priority… our treasure. Always.”
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asks last night made me think about female tertiary riders. since yua is one will this become a trend? no way to know. but then I was like “ok going back which previous characters would have worked just fine as women?” and I used the list of tertiary riders from tiermaker bc it’s not an official designation and there’s no canon list
kivala: self-explanatory
mage: self-explanatory. although I actually think if the other two mages were also women that would annoy me more bc it’s like oh women can be riders but only off-brand burlap colored ones. I see
delta: was a women in canon, briefly, off-screen. if she had stayed alive as a character instead of dying for takumi’s manpain that could have been interesting. the guy who ended up as the delta user was so boring that at least if he were a woman that would be something to stand out
snipe: thinking about nico snipe here. but in general i have no problem with the idea of a weird annoying woman who lives in an abandoned hospital and gets bullied by her teenage protégé
chalice: why not. feral woman in the process of rehabilitation who threatens to fucking kill people but warms up due to family and friendship? that’s good. it would also make people read kenzaki and hajime’s relationship as overtly romantic
todoroki: we just need more dumb female jocks in the world
den-o rod form: I dont consider the various den-o forms to be different riders but they’re on here so. I also already forgot why I put ura in this category. oh it’s bc I think his role within the group is kind of to make plans and wrangle the others which is often a feminine role anyway
den-o axe form: just for the yukata open to the waist with bandaged chest under vibe
necrom: that guy already basically has the character arc of a spoiled princess who learns about the real world
kuuga (onodera yuusuke): just why not. there isn’t anything about yuusuke that i think would become weird when applied to a female character instead. the fandom reaction to a female yuusuke I don’t know about. tsukasa/yuusuke shipping might become very big but also the number of people who think she is quote yuuseless unquote might increase too
woz: I think woz could be a woman. it doesn’t break the cardinal rule that a woz is a woz so it’s fine. woz’s slavish devotion towards sougo might become more unpleasant coming from a woman towards a man but I think it would be mitigated by woz clearly being evil and having insane woz motives
zolda: talked about this last night. I do think it would be good. also it would make that huge hilarious gun cool and sexy bc it would be like the valkyrie cannon scene in ragnarok
gills: a woman who’s a feral loner who screams and punches people. a swamp wife. sounds good to me
hoppers: hell hopper sisters anyone? they’re already such stupid and ridiculous characters that switching their gender wouldn’t trouble me. in fact it might even be a victory for feminism
leangle: I put him in maybe bc everyone in the entire show already dunks on him constantly so if it was “everyone is rude to the only female rider all the time” that would be no good. although if hajime is also a woman.. hmm...
drake: I think female daisuke would have to become a heterosexual woman bc so much of his character is hitting on babes and I dont think toei would allow an out and proud lesbian hero. in 2007 especially. but a flirty and stupid woman who always gets saved by her kid sister could be done well or poorly
zangetsu: somehow the idea of takatora being a woman in a position of power whose employees are all plotting against her bc she;s a huge dumbass doesn’t sit right with me. but there are no huge red flags so. nee-san is single and doesn’t have a husband
gridon: dont care about that guy maybe if he was a lady I would
bravo: oren’s a flamboyant gay man, so translated to a female character she would become a butch lesbian. butch lesbian who was a private military contractor but settled down for her dream of running a bakery is less good to me as a plot but I think I could deal bc oren doesn’t just give up on fighting
I dont even remember who this next guy is. oh knuckle. all i remember about him is he was kinda gay s maybe it would be bad to make him a woman bc then she would just come off as straight
chaser: gouchase becomes canon. theres maybe some weird stuff that might arise with a female chase but not worse than anything about medic so whatever
raia: I actually dont think tezuka should be a woman but I’m not mad about it so I didn’t make a category just for him. I think it becomes more cringe for a woman to dramatically die for shinji and I also think now that tezuka is canonically gay we shouldn’t erase that. even if female tezuka is a lesbian it’s still like wow another dead lesbian
lazer: female kiriya being like “ohoho I flirt with you but I also lie all the time” would come off different. people already portray kiriya as a fox in fanart but if she were a lady you wouldn’t even be able to find fanart without ears and tail. however I do want to see a female character who dresses exactly like kiriya
grease: I like the idea of a rough and tumble farmer lady who’s always going around with her boys. the mii-tan thing could be better or worse, depending. full on lesbian kazumin is worse bc it makes her obsessive horny lesbian who can’t take a no. kazumin who is theoretically a straight woman but just really loves mii-tan as an idol could be ok
rogue: i forgot his name. sorry gentoku. gentoku as a female villain who defects for a reason other than ~love~ would be good. but gentoku being secretly obsessed with ugly fashion is somehow bad to me in a female character
ryugen: no. we cant. no.
sasword: why did I put him in this category? well I think his comical and contrived failures to understand how the world works come close to crossing a line at times already and if tsurugi were a female character there is no way that it wouldn’t be used to infantilize and sexualize her in a creepy way. I thought about that scene where tsurugi dresses as a schoolboy and the outfit’s too small. that was already weird and unnecessary. I imagined it as an adult woman in a too-small schoolgirl uniform and I said Absolutely Not
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Why is insurance so high on the scion tc?
"Why is insurance so high on the scion tc?
what is the best/cheapest insurance out their for the scion tc and why is it so high? thanks
BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://freeinsurancequotes.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr
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I was in a car accident in March 2008 in a parking lot. The insurance companies BOTH decided that we were 50/50 at fault for the accident. During this process I kept getting phone calls asking me to verify WHY a person not on my policy was driving my car at the time of the accident. I repeatedly corrected the insurance companies...yes BOTH of them...saying that I AM AN INSURED DRIVER and I was driving my car. I had no passengers. I was in an accident with another single driver with no passengers. Eventually it seemed like everything was fine. The claim closed on May 2 and I thought it was all over. BUT today, May 29, I received a letter in the mail telling me that policy is being cancelled because WE HAD REQUESTED INFORMATION REGARDING --------- AS THE DRIVER OF THE 03/27/2008 CLAIM. TO DATE, THIS HAS NOT BEEN RECEIVED. I have NO IDEA what they are talking about. He is the OTHER driver. However, they are pretty much ignoring my calls and emails. What can I do???""
Can I have 2 Health Insurances?
Can I have 2 health insurances?Edit My Information: - 23 years old, CA resident, Citizen, Not Student, Male Situation: Left California for Job (Blue Shield of California / Delta Dental) - Currently covered under my mother's health insurance until 26 (Blue Shield of CA believes I am still student) - Mother works at a hospital so I get 100% coverage at hospital and 20% max elsewhere (usually just co-pay) - great health insurance plan - All hospitals in MA are out-of network for CA insurance - I can go to urgent care when needed and services are covered...but long wait always -emergency fees are $100 tops Took job offer in Massachusetts that offers health insurance (Harvard Pilgrim / Humana) - it is the normal Harvard Pilgrim Plan - Have to pay premium (~$150/month) for PPO - primary care visits and specialized doctors are covered at 40% (i think...) - Expect to transfer back to CA office in 6 months - 1 year Current Health Conditions: - Teeth hurt (cavities) - Rotator Cuff injury (long ago still hurts) Decision: I have 6 days to decide, what should i do?! If I choose the MA one, I will likely lose CA insurance since they will see I am not a student.""
Teen Car Insurance Question. Desperate for answers?
Hi I am 17 and I am testing out quotes for insurance... my question is that... is it legally required for me to add collision coverage? comprehensive coverage? uninsured motorist bodily injury? Uninsured Motorist Property Damage? .. WHAT IS LEGALLY REQUIRED and what do I really not need to worry about? I am a girl therefore I am a safe driver hahaha... ANY ANSWERS WILL HELP.... THANKS!!!!
What's the cheapest a new driver could pay for car insurance (NY)?
I wanna buy a car I just passed my road test I want toi get a car but I know insurance is going to be high I'm from new york... Does anyone know how much ill pay around and does anyone have any tips on who would be the cheapest... Thanks
Do you need to be enrolled in school to stay covered under your parents health insurance? Affordable Care Act?
So here's the question in case you don't want to read my wall of text below (but it would be appreciated if you did to further understand my question). I was covered under my moms health insurance while in college and I was told I needed to be enrolled in school to stay covered, I dropped out a while ago and was wondering if I am still covered by law under the Affordable Care Act since I am only 19. I was covered under my mothers health insurance, she works for a private company and she said that I needed to be enrolled in school in order to stay covered by the insurance. But this was close to a year ago if I'm remembering correctly. The reason I'm worried is because I'm taking a break from college, and have had multiple doctor appointments/tests done after I left, but I never had a problem with the insurance going through. I've made myself paranoid into thinking that the company may just not know, and is assuming I'm still in school and will randomly hit me with the costs of the testings and doctor visits if they saw I was not in school, or god forbid somewhere down the road my mother or I are in a serious accident and are dropped because of this. I know this happens all the time, the insurance agencies have people hired to find abnormalities in your history in an attempt to drop you and not have to pay the bills. So would I still be covered under my mothers health insurance even though I'm not currently enrolled in school under the Affordable Care Act? Once again I am 19 also. Thank you""
Life insurance at 23. suggestions?
Hi, I'm 23 and I have a one year daughter. I was taking in consideration to apply for life insurance.. is it cheap? what is a good company to stick with? Thanks""
How much do auto insurance agents make there first year?
What's the average for starting license auto insurance agents? Do they only make commision or hourly too? Are the leads provided. Is it a hard industry to get into?
What are some good life insurance companies in New York?
I am looking for a affordable monthly life insurance company for me and my wife, I have multiple scelerosis as a pre existing condition?""
Is Car Insurance paid Monthly or Yearly?
I was reading an article about the Toyota Prius and it said insurance is about $1400. Is that $1400 a month or a year?
Whats cheap car to insure and run?
ive been trying to find cheap cars to insure, and it comes up with 2010 models that the car costs 12,000 i want something old cheap reliable for fuel car cost and insurance, i dont really care what year but im guessing the older cars like 1980s will be cheaper""
When will we start having to buy health insurance for this new law ?
I think it is bs. You can all say because you don't wanna pay for me but Obama has u all brainwashed. Most of us young guys dont need it and by me having to buy it IM PAYING FOR YOU! Think about there are lots of ppl who don't go to the hospital I havnt been there since I was born except shots and im 27. Why should have to pay I surance for the next 20 years I'm not gonna use it. Oh ya i have good credit and pay my bills. So why should I have to start paying yours? You ppl that already have it and use it r gonna get cheaper rates cus ppl like me who don't use it and pay for your sickness. And the ppl who don't have it the hospital Covers the bill. Well us healthy guys shouldn't have to pay your dang bills!!!
How much would insurance be?
my step dad is putting me on his insurance, he has a 2006 dodge caravan.. how much would it be for me ( a 17yr old girl) to get put on as an occasional driver?""
Will my insurance go up if I file a claim but then not need it?
A guy ran into me. All he did was pull off a side mirror. I can't get his insurance to replace it directly. They said he has to file the claim. He has yet to do so and the contact number I have for him is bad. So I was told if I go through my insurance they can file the claim to his insurance for me to get it paid. But if somehow they can't file it through his insurance ill just pay out of pocket and have my husband do the work so it's cheap. But if I do that will my insurance still go up? The accidentwas entirely his fault.
My insurance on my car is $450 and its nothing special of a car not fast how can i get it lower?
My insurance on my car is $450 and its nothing special of a car not fast how can i get it lower? the insurance company told me if i sighn on with my family it makes it cheaper...all of my friends are paying 120-200 i dont get why mines so much more/?
Will i still be insured to drive a car that i took off my insurance policy yesterday?
I have bought a new car and changed my insurance over to that car, just yesterday. However i still have my other car for a day or so and was wondering is there any leeway when insurance is swapped over from car to car to still use my original car?""
How much does insurance cost for a 16 year old newly licensed driver and a car?
How much does insurance cost for a 16 year old newly licensed driver and a car?
How much is your auto insurance?
Im trying to get n average estimate of auto insurance since i will be driving soon. I know its diffrent from your insurance company but if you live north carolina and your a teenager with a used car what would it most likely be?
""Would you shop for insurance online? If not, why?
Will having an insurance makes a difference to our lives?
""Someone reversed into my car, is it better to go through maaco instead of insurance? its jus ta minor scratch?""
i was at a stop sign and i was abou tthe 4th car, well the 3rd car decided to reverse to leave and backed up and hit the front of my car. its not really that bad but its still a big scratch. is it best to just have her pay my estimate at maaco? or deal with insurance? i don't want to get jacked up insurance rates because someone doesn't know how to reverse.""
Insurance for pre- existing condition?
My friend was recently diagnosed with a brain tumor, she has scheduled a MRI for march and then they will determine whether she can go through surgery. The problem is she had recently exchanged jobs (just prior to the tumor news), and apparently cannot be covered with her present Insurance company as her condition is pre-existent. Now, the tumor is located in the fourth entricle of the brain (where the spinal/cerebral fluid is housed). She will probably need Chemotherapy. Can she be re-insured or covered by a different plan.? Can a single mother qualify for medi-care instead? She is in TX""
Why is insurance so high on the scion tc?
what is the best/cheapest insurance out their for the scion tc and why is it so high? thanks
I can't afford my car insurance...?
I need transportation so I can work. But why should I have to choose between car insurance or food and medicine? Shouldn't the Government come up with a single payer plan for automotive insurance too! Its not fair that I have to pay for this out of my own pocket.
What car has the CHEAPEST car insurance for a 16 yr old?
What car? make? model? yr? Insurance company?
How to insure my car if I go to live in France?
I'm moving to France soon and I would like to keep my english car. Insurance companies are asking for the bonus-malus and I don't know the equivalent in english...so they can't tell me how much it would be...Does anybody had to insure their car in France? What do I need to do? thanks xxxx
Do I still have to pay car insurance if....?
This is probably a really stupid question, but I'm sixteen, so please just answer... I've had my permit since last September. I've practiced, but my parents won't let me get my license because they can't afford the car insurance. We only have one car anyway. Well, say I were to register a motor vehicle, such as a 50cc moped, which only requires a basic license to use. Would I still have to pay car insurance for my family car if I don't drive it, AND a moped? Or can I stick to paying the motor bike insurance instead? I'm sorry, it's such a stupid question, but I don't know much more about car insurance other than the fact that we can't afford it. Thank you. (:""
Where can I find Affordable Health Insurance in Florida?
Where can I find Affordable Health Insurance in Florida?
Where could I find health insurance that covers these things?
I'm a very healthy person, I've never had any major illnesses and don't do anything that would risk a major hospital visit (of course I know that things do happen), I just want the health insurance that covers: Doctor visits and Medications I have been diagnosed with GAD by a general psychiatrist and he recommends I take medication for it, I don't typically visit a doctor but I felt I needed to see one asap. I've never had health insurance, I'm 19 years old and I live on my own, I'm about to be married in a month and I just would like to know where I can find affordable health insurance where I won't have to pay too much for a doctors visit and for medication. Thank you""
Sr22 insurance Texas?
I need an sr22 insurance for Texas, but a cheap one. Any tip?""
Do i have to have car insurance to get my permit in portland oregon?
So im a 14 year old girl and i turn 15 in October on the 20th and i was wondering if i really need car insurance to get my permit cause my step mom told me i do and if i do i don't see why.
I pay more for auto insurance than medical insurance?
And no, im not a bad driver. Will Obama have some sort of auto insurance reform next to help us out? Look at how many Americans dont have car insurance but drive anyways.""
If you sell your car / do you need to keep any insurance for your DL ?
if you move to NYC and sell your car / parking too expensive. do you need to keep some type of car insurance for your driving license ? you might occaisionally need to drive someone else or might rent a rental car when you travel ?
Is it true that if some one borrows your car and they don't have their own insurance they are uninsured?
If they don't have their own car and insurance and you just have basic liability are they driving uninsured and could get fined if pulled over. Please advise
In florida does the auto insurance rate lower after age 27?
In florida does the auto insurance rate lower after age 27?
Insurance- dui-?
if i get convicted of a dui- my insurance will go up correct, the question i have is how long will i be paying the higher premium? 10 years? 5 years? 1 year? and also what is the avergae price it goes up considering i am 23 years old no tickets or accidents till the dui accident(hit a tree) live in southern california and drive a mustang gt i pay 160 with the accident right now(i think i paid 100-125ish before the accident. thanks""
Did you hear about Obama's new auto insurance plan?
Right now people are paying hundreds of dollars a month for auto insurance. THe more accidents you have the higher your premiums are. Then there are those with no auto insurance, we all pay for them when they wreck our cars. Now there's going to be government exchange car insurance pools. If you don't have auto insurance you will have to pay a small tax, like a hundred dollars a year. THe great thing is you can buy the government insurance AFTER you have a wreck- you can't be excluded for your car's pre-existing condition. Now we can all drop our private insurance that was costing many thousands a year and pay the tiny penalty tax. Just one question? Where does the money come from to repair all the cars?""
AAA auto Insurance policy ?
I'm currently having auto insurance with AAA and my bro is going to get his car soon. If I can get both of our cars insured under 1 plan, would that be cheaper ? thanks""
Sports car insurance... Wil it be cheaper if...?
Well im 18 years old and still live with my rentz. I have a job and i make 1400-1600$ a month. I have only a few minor bills. Here in about 3 weeks im buying a 1996 pontiac firebird v6 coupe from a dealership. Before i buy the car i need some insurance info. Iv been to over 10 of the leading insurance companies and gotten rate quotes and there all 400$+ a month.. This is suprising because i only payed 120$ a month for my old car ( f150). So im wondering if my insurance will go down if my parents add me and my car to there insurance? If so how would i go about this? And how much of a price difference would it be? All answers are appriciated.. **No Spam Please**
Will insurance cover the car?
I'm getting ready to take my road test, but my Mom can't afford to have me added in her insurance policy. She plans on making me an excluded driver. My brothers & sisters are all covered if they drive her cars, because they don't live in her house. I still live at home, my question is, if I'm an excluded driver, and I were to get into an accident, would the insurance cover the car, or not? And I live in Michigan, if that helps.""
How much money would it cost to have a 1992-1998 BMW E36 1.6l-1.8l for a 17 year old on your parents insurance?
How much money would it cost to have a 1992-1998 BMW E36 1.6l-1.8l for a 17 year old on your parents insurance?
Car insurance question???
i have just had my car stolen and was wandering if it was worth claiming on. It is insured for 2500 and they are willing to right it off and pay up but I have a new car that I need to get insurance for. My cheapest qoute is 450. Anyone have a rough idea how much my insurance would go up if I claimed for my old car?? Basically... should i just accept my losses on the old car or claim. cheers
Best car for me (47 year old male)?
Best car for me (47 year old male)?
Do I have to be insured to drive an insured car?
I live in California and i recently got my drivers license. I am 17 and still in high school. My dad says i can't drive because i'm not insured even though the car i'm gonna be driving is insured. If i crash what would happen? My friends tell me that only the car needs insurance for me to drive. Who's right?
""Free health insurance near Brandon, FL?""
Is there any way to apply or receive FREE health insurance in or near Brandon, Florida. I am a college student here and don't want to pay for health insurance b/c its expensive. I used to live in New York and know that there there are many companies that give free health insurance for low income people. Any help?""
What old car is cheap to insure for 19 year old?
Hi, I would just like to know what old car is cheap to insure foe a 19 year old male. I have a 1993 vauxhal astra 1.4 GL and insurance for me on this car is over 1500. So if anyone knows of an old car that is cheap to insure for a 19 year old male then please let me know! Thank you!""
Where should I go for auto insurance?
I'm looking for an auto insurance agency in Cupertino Ca, I'm new to the area and not sure who I should go with. Any suggestions?""
I want to buy a peugeot 106 1.1 zest. How much would the insurance cost? All serious answers are welcomed.?
I am 21 nearly 22 with no claims, points or convictions""
Why is insurance so high on the scion tc?
what is the best/cheapest insurance out their for the scion tc and why is it so high? thanks
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-long-do-i-have-pay-expensive-premium-beland-rajka"
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