#the composer said the film is 'autumn-y'

[poirott]

Detective vs. psychic medium

A HAUNTING IN VENICE (2023), dir. Kenneth Branagh

[naoyas90dayfiance]

Ghosthunting gone wrong | Naoya Zen'in

SFW but Spooky! (I think)

Naoya Zen'in & GN!Reader

Characters: Naoya Zen'in, Chad (whoever you want him to be), and you.

Summary: Naoya and his team go to a hospital looking for some scary footage for his YouTube channel but it quickly turns into a race for survival.

Word count: 4.3k

Author's note: this is a piece for ChaoticYuna's Summerween collab! I hope it spooks you ♥

Naoya abruptly closed his eyes as the shining white light of the camera hit his iris. The lens of the device adjusted itself to focus on his funny face with a wrinkled nose and eyes pressed shut.

"What a face, boss." Chad laughed at the microphone from his trailer. The image on his left monitor distracted him from focusing on the one in the center.

"Shut up, fuckface." Naoya replied to the discreet microphone attached to his earpiece. "Y/N, you almost made me fucking blind." Naoya turned his back to you while you kept adjusting the camera so it'll have a good take on Naoya's body. Chad couldn't help but giggle at the live video that got to his computer.

"Who the fuck thought it was funny to come to an abandoned hospital?" Naoya said when looking at the building that was in front of him.

"Haunted hospitals are trending right now. Chad's projections show we could get up to 100k subscribers with this video along."

"I hope he's fucking right or else-"

"Gotcha, boss," Chad replied; now, his gaze focused on the monitor at the center of the desk. The blue light washed off the color of his face, and the sounds of clicks filled the small cold office.

"Let's record the intro while he does his thing," Naoya walked around the hospital with you. He found a place that looked creepy enough and stood patiently in front of it. He waited for you to get a good angle of him and the infrastructure he had behind.

"And action." The red light beeped from the camera when you finished the sentence.

Naoya's face lit up. He showed his perfect teeth as his features gracefully expressed his acted cheerfulness; his hands articulated perfectly his introduction, on which he explained that he was in a haunted hospital to search for some evidence of paranormal activity.

"Cut." Naoya's face dramatically changed, his once-raised brows now lied flat, his hands went to his side, and his smile was gone. He turned around and faced the hospital that Chad had picked for his video. It was a significantly tall building.

"Make sure to change the building for the thumbnail. This one isn't scary at all." Naoya told his assistant through the discreet microphone.

"It looks exactly like my gradma's hospital," Naoya smirked at your remark.

"Roger that. Boss, did you read the history of the hospital that I sent you?" Chad asked him.

"I read it, and it was stupidly fake."

"It's what I found, boss. People here said that it happened."

"If you keep believing liars, I'll fire your ass."

"People will love it, boss. Don't worry."

"You're going to be the one worried if we don't get the 100k."

"Boss, it'll be cool if we record you walking around the building," you told Naoya.

Naoya agreed with your comment. He fixed his hair and let his face go numb and expressionless. He hid his hands on the pockets of his jeans.

The young man heard you giving him the sign that the camera was recording. And so, the crackling of the autumn leaves and dried branches under his feet sounded throughout the landscape of the abandoned proximity.

As the recording continued Naoya kept making surprised faces, which were composed of raised eyebrows and parted lips. He also pointed to random broken windows of the hospital with his black-manicured index finger.

"I don't know if Y/N can catch this for you guys," Naoya stopped and turned his whole body to face the camera. He pointed to his left side. "But this hospital is in the middle of nowhere. Behind all of those trees, there's nothing. It's all forest. This was supposed to be a hospital for local factories that are about 26 miles from here; but as you can see, it was abandoned." You slowly moved the camera to film the forest Naoya was talking about, but you only got dark shots, as the sun was almost gone.

"And I'm not sure if you noticed it while we were walking around this building," The camera focused on Naoya. "But there's only one entrance door and an exit door. Not the optimal architectural choice for an important hospital such as this one was meant to be."

"No wonder why this place was abandoned," you mocked behind the camera the poor architecture. Chad chuckled at your comment from his desk, but then went back to his task when you finished walking around to the old medical center.

"Done," Chad muttered to himself and changed windows on his main screen. The red light that filled his office turned green when he clicked on the main button.

"Boss, we're ready," Naoya heard Chad’s notice through his earpiece.

"Let's go inside," he told you.

Naoya stepped on the metal steps of the hospital. You remained two steps down as Naoya positioned himself in the middle of the shot with the entrance door behind him.

"Alright, guys. We're about to enter this haunted hospital. If you are enjoying the video thus far, make sure to press the like button, subscribe and ring the bell. The team and I appreciate it very much. Especially for this might be the video where we might not come out ali-"

As Naoya was speaking, the door behind him slightly opened. The sound of rusted metal against itself made Naoya visibly shake his body and almost bite his tongue. He felt an electric sharp going through his spine. The frontman turned around, and gave a brief look back to the camera, then bravely placed his hand on the door. He lightly pushed it to open further. This time Naoya established eye contact with the camera and winked at it.

"Let's go."

You went up two steps to catch up with Naoya, who held the door open for you after he had gone into the hospital first.

Before your right foot could take the final step, a hand with claw-like nails came out of the spider-web-filled space in-between of the steps; it took the seam of your jean and pulled it towards it. The front of your foot hit the metal staircase. You let out a sudden gasp as your skin got goosebumps for the unexpected move; you instinctively directed the camera to your sports shoes.

"Something grabbed me by the foot, boss," you said in a tense and low voice. Your camera was still exploring the vicinity of the staircase, but you only caught on tape leaves and branches, confirming that the area was clear.

"Better get out of that staircase then," Naoya smiled when you pointed the camera to him. He invited you into the hospital once again. He held the door opened wider so you could go inside. Once the both of you were in the building, Naoya let go of the door that hit with a loud bang the steel frame. Your nerves made you shake the camera when you heard the loud sound. But, in contrast, Naoya kept walking with an expressionless yet beautiful face into the main hallway that led to the reception.

You strolled three steps behind Naoya, catching his left side that showed so well his piercings and his lined eyes that were looking at the lack of decoration in the building. Naoya turned his face towards the reception desk, leaving you to record the back of his bleached hair.

You took the cue and moved the camera around to show how the hospital had two long hallways, one at the right and another at the left. Both of them met at the center, which was the reception center.

"Y/N, light over here," Naoya instructed you. He had gotten behind the reception desk. You rapidly moved towards where your employer was.

"It seems nothing's here," Naoya said to the camera once you were filming his long fingers opening the drawers of the desk.

"Probably the people that have visited this place," Naoya paused as he opened another screeching drawer, "took each document."

"By the way, if you didn't know, we chose this building for a particular reason," Naoya was fully facing the camera; his back was to the dirty white wall of the reception center. "It's said that on October 31st, 1991, this whole building was on fire. The victims of the incident: some patients, doctors, and other members of the staff said that they were being burned alive. And people outside of the building recall having called the firefighting department because everyone was screaming in agony, from little children to the grown men of the factories. Hell broke loose here," Naoya left his position behind the front desk and began walking towards the left hallway of the hospital. You followed his movements with the recording device.

"But, there's another side of the story,” Naoya kept talking to the camera as he was walking. “when the firefighters, ambulances, and the police arrived here they saw nothing. There was no fire, no people with crispy burned skin, not even cigarette smoke," Naoya paused. "A firefighter that we interviewed said that when they got inside, they only saw that everyone in the hospital had passed out," Naoya’s gaze set itself in an arc made of shiny letters that welcomed them to the kid’s area. He took his hand out of his pocket and pointed to it so you could film it.

"The people that were outside of the hospital when everything happened insisted they saw this place on fire. And when the police tried to calm them down and told them that there was no fire, they kept insisting that there was a fire. It seemed like they were the only ones that could see it," Naoya had passed three doors with children's paintings on them. "And when some of those people finally got reunited with their family member that was in the hospital, they broke down into tears," Naoya stopped. You circled with your camera around him and took a spot in front of him. "That day a woman was screaming at the paramedics that her kid was dead, that she couldn't see his face, it was all burned. The only thing remaining was a black goo that covered his bones," Naoya shuddered for the camera and stopped next to a door, which had pink foamy letters, and it read: Playro m, the second "o" was missing.

Naoya grabbed the golden handle covered with grey dust and turned it downwards. He opened the door that made a squeaky sound as Naoya opened it slowly. His eyes went from the camera to the entrance. "You can look it up if you don't believe me," Naoya finally said and pushed the door open; microscope spores of dust traveled through his nostrils and almost made him sneeze.

Naoya found inside the room a plastic blue table with many toys on it. The light of the camera was capable to catch on tape their worn-out state.

"It is said that her kid was here when the paramedics arrived," Naoya added, giving his back to the camera. He got near the table and took one of the toys, closely inspecting it.

"Witnesses said she was a crying mess. Her whines could be heard throughout the whole building and the outsides. She kept saying that her kid's body was decimated, but the paramedics saw that none of that was the truth," Naoya showed a dirty teddy bear to your camera. He put the toy down and kept talking to the device. He was browsing the room with his gaze, and you slowly followed it to catch nothing on the footage. "Her kid had fainted, but he was breathing and didn't have a single scratch on his body."

"Creepy, ain't it?" Naoya suddenly locked eyes with the camera and quirked his eyebrow; then he turned on his heels. You exited the room, but neither closed the door of the playroom. You kept your position in front of Naoya and walked backward as both walked to the next room.

"People don't know the motive of the group hallucination, some say it was some chemical in the wind, others are convinced that the victims were lying, and some of the people that knew the staff swear it was a curse the hospital has. As it was founded by a doctor that took ill people and offered them as sacrif-," Naoya's sentence was cut short. "FUCK," He shouted. He had bitten his tongue as a reaction to the loud bang that almost burst your eardrums. You jumped in fear and pointed your camera light to the room you had just visited.

"Don't leave me in the dark for fuck sake," Naoya's hand was in his mouth, trying to soothe his pain as he walked next to you.

"Boss, the door," you said in a whisper as you zoomed into the door of the kid's playroom. It was shut.

"I guess the rumor was true," Naoya removed his hand from his lips and played out a cheeky smile that you caught once you had taken the shot of the now-closed door.

"Everyone at home. It's 7.30 PM," Naoya gazed at his smart-watch. "We only have the moonlight coming from these windows," Naoya pointed to the windows on the opposite side from where the rooms were. They gave enough light to distinguish walls from nothingness; however, the details were left in the dark. "And we have found a haunted place to do our investigation," Naoya looked at the lens of the camera and winked at it.

"Let's go, love," Naoya commanded, and you followed your boss' steps deeper into the left hallway.

"It is said that the doctor had worshipped a God, but no one knows which one was. Maybe we can get some info about it if we go into his office," Naoya gave a brief look back to the camera and stopped his strolling next to a door with a golden plaque that read "Director". Naoya placed his hand on the handle and turned it. The metal door separated from its frame and let out a cloud of dust that had Naoya coughing. He pulled the neck of his black t-shirt to his nose.

He pushed the entrance open, but he only found a wooden desk in the middle of the room, with no chair behind it. There was graffiti with an unknown symbol for Naoya on the wall.

He entered the room, and so did you to get a 360 shot of the room, showing how the many shelves in there were empty. Naoya looked at the camera from his side angle when it focused on him again; his nose was still covered with his t-shirt. Dust was accumulating on the camera.

"People that leave nothing behind are more suspicious than those that do, don't you think? Was he trying to hide something?" Naoya's steps headed to the exit of the room, and you were in front of him once again, walking backward.

"You'll have to find out in the next part of this video series," Naoya was standing in the hallway now. "where we are going to go to the right hallway of the hospital," Naoya pointed to the hallway on his right. "It is said that the Emergency Room was there, and it was where the sightings of the fire started that day," The camera centered on the darkness of the unexplored hallway and closed its shot when it caught a small shadow standing in the middle of it. A few seconds of silence reigned in the hospital.

"Okay, I got it," you said.

"Boss, I'm still trying to synchronize the rest of the stunts. My computer is having issues connecting with them."

"How did I look in those scenes?"

"Wonderful job as always," you replied. Naoya winked at you.

"Sorry, boss. Did you say something?"

"I asked how I looked in those scenes," Naoya heard a sudden static sound on his earpiece. He immediately took it off. "That idiot, I almost lose my hearing," Naoya grunted between his teeth. He pocketed his device.

"What is it?"

"That fool lost connection with the earpiece; I bet he kicked the cable or some stupid shit like that."

"Don't worry, boss. When that little light there turns green," you pointed to an emergency light that had a weak beaming red light. Naoya had to squint his eyes to see it. "it means that everything is ready to go."

"What the fuck?" Naoya replied in a low tone. He shrugged off the technological nonsense and pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe off the sweat on his face. "Whatever, that piece of trash better have it ready before I quit this shit. You talk to him. I can't stand this," Naoya handed you the earpiece.

"Hey, boss. Look we're ready to shoot," you turned on your camera and set it up to record the empty right hallway. Naoya squinted his eyes again when looking at the emergency light and noticed the green beam discretely coming from it.

The host of the show stepped forward, placing himself in the middle of the shot. He audibly cleared his throat and put his hands in front of him, ready to help him articulate the introduction of the new episode.

"Hey, guys. It's us again. We're here at the haunted Saint John's Hospital. You can check out its back-story on our first video, and watch what we just experienced in those rooms," Naoya pointed at the children's room on his right. You followed his movement with the camera before focusing on the fake blonde again. "This time, we're going to explore th-."

In less than a second, Naoya had lost his balance and loudly fell. The palm of his hands landed after his knees on the floor. His good reflex saved him from hitting his face against the dusty floor by less than an inch.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Naoya shouted facing the floor. His eyes became watery for the dust had entered them, his inhalations became deeper, and the wings of his nose were flaring up. He prompted himself up with his feet and looked at the camera in front of him, his face was completely red, as were his eyes, and the tip of his nose had some visible dust on it.

"Boss, I don't know. Let me rewind the video," you nervously said.

"That piece of trash. He'll know what's good now," Naoya demanded the earpiece back from you. His grip on it made the soft plush on the sides mold to every line of his fingers.

"Chad, fucking son of a bitch," Naoya said on the mic after he put his piece back on. "I'll fucking show you what's funny after we're done filming," Naoya let out a loud shout of pain as he slammed the device on the floor. You tried to hide your neck with your shoulders as you also heard an insufferable screeching sound coming from the earpiece. Naoya walked towards the communication tool and stepped on it harshly until the sound stopped and the device was nothing but small pieces of broken plastic.

"Boss, check this out," you handed Naoya the camera, and he played the clip on the tactile screen. He saw himself standing in the middle of the shot, and how a hand with nasty long nails grabbed his shoulder. The next second of the film showed when it pushed him to the ground.

"What stupid stunt is that? It’s so fucking cliché. I look like a fool," Naoya said between his teeth. His jaw bone was visible through his skin.

Naoya's anger didn't last long, as he let out a loud yelp for he heard deafening bangs coming from every room of the hospital. He dropped the camera, which turned itself off and left you in the dark.

Naoya covered his ears with his hands and tried to adjust his eyes to the dim moonlight coming from the windows. He tried to look for the source of the sound, but it was too dark.

You quickly crouched down once the camera hit the floor and picked it up. You tried to cover your ears from the loud noise, but your right hand was occupied with turning on the device.

As the welcome ringtone played from the camera device and joined the bangs, a ear-piercing scream came from the right hallway. You dropped the camera once again while Naoya visibly shook his body. You firmly clenched your jaw and felt tears rolling down your face for the immense stress that the continuous screeching made your bodies felt.

Naoya sprinted towards the entrance door, and you followed his steps. The camera was far gone as it wasn’t your priority anymore.

When you got to the entrance, Naoya pushed and pulled the door repeatedly; you joined him in forcing the other door. The sounds of the maddening bangs and the ear-shattering scream almost made you start desperately screaming yourself.

"How the fuck did that bitch think this was funny?" Naoya grunted and kicked the door, but it didn't budge. He let out a loud shout in frustration that only made the screeching voice become louder and, somehow, closer to you.

"Boss, let's get out of here now," Naoya realized how now he could see every detail of the hospital thanks to a mysterious orange light. He turned around and saw how the building was being engulfed by flames. Both of you felt the overwhelming heat of the fire making your body’s temperature unbearably high.

You quickly ran into the nearest window, and with shaky hands tried to open it. As you both struggled to lift it, you heard how the nerve-wreacking screech was getting closer to you. And just before the window sprung open thanks to your forces combined, Naoya managed to see from his peripheral view an demonic creature standing next to him, reaching out to grab his shoulder with its familiar human-like hand.

Naoya pushed you out of the way, and he threw himself out of the window. He landed abruptly on the concrete floor of the entrance. His body shook at the impact; he could feel blood running down his face, which clouded his view with red.

“Boss! Help me!” Naoya heard your plea behind him. He turned his bloody face around and saw the tall creature taking the right side of your body to forbid you from leaving the place. Naoya made eye contact with the goat-like face of the force that was man-handling you, but before fear took over his body, he saw your crying and desperated face.

Naoya used his hands to prompt himself up. He grabbed your left hand that was reaching out towards him and violently pulled you outside. You hit your hip with the window frame but managed to free your right arm and jump out of the window.

Trying to look for a way out, Naoya looked at Chad's trailer but it was being devoured by fire. Then, he instinctively looked at the car that was parked near it and saw how Chad's moonlit body was running towards his vehicle.

Without giving a second look back to the creature that was now making its way out through the window, Naoya demanded that you follow him.

He jumped the steps of the staircase, and he loudly sprinted towards the car as Chad was trying to start it. The lights of the lamps guided his and your way towards it.

Naoya slammed his body against the door of the passenger seat. His hands touched the cold metal of the door until he found the handle. He pulled it, opened the door and launched himself into the seat, closing the door behind him. Chad was too focused on trying to start the car for the fifth time to acknowledge his employer's presence.

"Pump the accelerator" Naoya took Chad's hands out of the steering wheel. He put his right hand on the key, and he fidgeted it three times while Chad pumped the accelerator. In an instant, the car's engine started, and Chad placed his hands on the wheel.

As Chad looked up he saw how your bloody body was trying to get to the car. The creature was close behind you. He drove closer to you so you could open the back seat.

In a second, you managed to open the door and got into the car. Chad sped up and drove out of the inferno that was the hospital and the trailer.

Naoya's gaze traveled back to check on your body lying in the backseat, and he could also see how the out-of-this-world creature remained still and watched you leave.

The road to the main highway was a bumpy and silent one. Tears were still running down your face; Naoya had pulled out a few tissues from the compartment, and was cleaning the blood off his face.

He had gave you the whole box and some medical alcohol, which you used to treat your wounds and then clean the blood. As you were doing so, you couldn't help but noticed that your wounds didn't burn when you applied alcohol to them, and that the tissues were only came out with the brown dirt of your skin.

"Someone else has to drive. I can't do this," Chad interrupted your thoughts when he suddenly stopped the car. He started to sob and then desperately cry as the sight of the cuts on his hands was too much for the young man to handle. Naoya opened his passenger seat door and exchanged positions with his assistant. He was now driving his car.

"I had to break the fucking window with my hands. I thought I was going to die there," Chad whispered as he kept crying.

You gave Chad the bottle of medical alcohol and the box of tissue. Chad took it and started to wipe off the sweat and tears from his face, as well as treating his wounds. You saw how he hissed in pain, and noticed how his tissues came out red.

Then, a silly thought came to your head:

"Boss, I lost the camera back there."

"And I lost all the footage in the computer."

"The demon can keep them," you giggled at Naoya's comment, and Chad did the same.

[emilycollins00]

Hello there :) How would Juza, Tasuku and Omi react if Azuma asked what your type was and you casually mention the masculine type and mention them (they have a crush on you). Separate reactions of course 😂 Thank you! Here's a cookie for you 🍪 ~

Thank you anon, that’s very sweet of you! 💕

I was surprised at how into this ask I was that I went over how much I had initially thought to write. Hope you and everyone enjoy it!

Juza, Tasuku and Omi discovering they are reader’s ideal type

Juza

I think he would feel a bit self-conscious, not knowing what to feel.

We all know this young boy has the face of a troublemaker and pretty dominant first impression.

But poor thing couldn’t be more different.

“Mmm… I’d say… manly? I haven’t really thought about it that much. but I would say I like having someone protective and strong with me.” you drank a bit from the tea Azuma and you had prepared.

The cuddling expert hummed at your response, smiling. “Never thought you would go for that type Y/N,” he rested his cup on the table. “I guess Juza fits that description coincidentally, wouldn’t you agree?”

You gave it a thought. You had known Juza for a while so you were used to him now, but it was true he gave pretty strong masculine vibes. “Yeah, he’s actually a pretty good resemblance” you laughed.

“Heard that, Juza?”

A clumsy noise of stumbling feet alerted you of something moving behind you. Turning, you discovered the tall boy looking at the ground, frowning face and red ears.

“Ah, sorry, do you feel bad I used you as an example?” you tried to make contact with his eyes, not that he was letting you. “Don’t worry Juza, it’s just a comment! We all here now you’re the sweetest guy around ah, not that it doesn’t go well with being manly of course! You are good at both.”

The high schooler glanced from the corner of his eyes at your face. He felt his palms sweating and his heart beating fast in his chest. He deepened his scowl at the floor again, too shy to look at you “Uh…’thanks.”

“Really, you have amazing traits!”

“…’thanks.”

You tilted your head, still confused as to why he had gone quiet. Azuma on the other hand sipped contently his tea, enjoying the oblivious cute exchange between you two.

                                               ..............................

Tasuku:

 I don’t think he would react too much if he heard it. 

He has always been on the heavy side of what people call “masculine”

 Maybe if it’s you, he would feel happy knowing he was on the safe here.

“Oh come on Azuma-san, that’s their biggest selling point! You have to see that.”

Azuma leaned in, looking again at the magazine. His eyes went trhough the pages while you started expectantly. "Well?"

“Mmm… who knows.” he finally chuckled. You sighed, it was obvious you had to resort to more sources to stan on your argument.

"I'm back- Ah, It's been a while Y/N."

Tasuku stood holding the doorknob to the living room, surprised to see you and Azuma chatting- an unusual pair given that you worked with another theatre. You lifted your head smiling at the actor and he told himself to remain composed. It hadn’t been long since he felt he was starting to develop affection for you and it wasn’t good for him to see your face so suddenly.

“Oh hi Tasuku! I came here to grab those props Izumi-san said I could take from your last performance, she told me you knew where they were.”

Catching his breath from all the running he had just done, he nodded mindlessly going to the kitchen to get some water. His gaze changed to other troupe member, still immersed in the magazine. “You also know where they are Azuma-san, shouldn’t have kept Y/N waiting.”

“Mmm? Fufu we were not waiting. Y/N had this magazine and we were discussing important matters.” the long-haired man turned it to show the content. “Look, these are the top 10 men models of the year. I have to say, I like their smooth aesthetic, what about you?”

“I couldn’t care less about it, honestly.” after sipping on the bottle, he closed the fridge and turned to get the things you had asked.

You shrugged browsing through the photographs. “I’m not saying they are bad just that someone with a strong and assertive masculine profile is better. Many people could definitely see the appeal in that.”

Tasuku stopped for a second before humming uninterested, however his movements became duller, as if he didn't want to completely leave the room.

“So that would be your ideal type.” he heard Azuma's usual teasing tone followed by a soft giggle. “Good to know.”

“…Sure? Uh, Tasuku, everything okay?”

“What? Ah yeah, I… I will get going.” cleaning his throat, he resumed the usual pace.

He would never admit it, but after you took the props leaving the magazine alone, he scrolled through the pages you two had looked at.

Just checking, nothing else.

                                           .....................................

Omi

I’ll be honest, more than getting flustered or anything else...

This wonder of a man would just feel happy hearing he was close to what you were into.

He’s so precious.

“Ah… that was a really good movie!” you leaned back on the couch. You and Omi had been encouraged to watch this film from the photography club president. The angles and backgrounds had received really high praises after all. “Wish I could record and photograph such beautiful sceneries too!”

Azuma hummed, agreeing with your statement. Both him and Yuki had decided to watch it with you two and it had been a success. “The world was very well built and the main character also had a good story.”

“I’ll have to ask Minagi to think of a script for these types of men. I would really fall in love with a play similar to this one!”

“What, do you like those beefy type Y/N?” Yuki frowned confused, getting up and grabbing what was left of the popcorns, which wasn’t much.

“That’s not what I meant.”

The comment caught the oldest one’s attention. “Oh…? Then what type of guy do you like?”

You crossed your arms, deep in thought. “You know, it’s the…” you tried to gesture, although to no avail, “the independence, strength… like- like Omi! That’s what I like.” you turned to the university student.

“Um?” said boy smiled, feeling your gaze on him. He had been watching the last images from the credits, not really listening. He failed to understand what the conversation had evolved into. “What about me?”

You briefly explained what you three had been talking about. “…and so I decided you’re the closest to what I’d aspire a perfect man to be”

The cook laughed sheepishly, not thinking you would say something like that with such a straight face. But that’s what he liked about you. “Well, that’s good to know.”

You sighed from your side of the sofa. “I want to watch something similar, maybe I should look for other recommendations,” you opened your phone, already browsing. “A play would be good too, Autumn troupe really would crush it.”

“I see… if you make Tsuzuru do it and we get written a comparable play, I will do my best to remember today’s talk.” he looked at you in a sudden good mood. "I'll go make dinner."

“Come on, stop joking!”

What you couldn’t imagine was how true the his words were.

_________________________________________________________

Aaaah they are just too cute. I love them so much. Hope you guys liked them, have a wonderful day! 💕

[yuthoe]

Happy Birthday (PENTAGON: Yan An)

OH YANAAAAAAAAAAN---HAPPY BIRTHDAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!

YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANAN YANA---

BABIE IS BACK AND IM SO HAPPY!!!!!!! i didn’t get to write a bday fic for hui bc i was in isolation that time, so i made sure to make up for it by writing one for yananie!

disclaimer: i have no idea what yanan would like to do for his bday and pulled the gift right out of my ass lmao. i suddenly remembered this morning that it’s his bday and was totally unprepared for the content of the fic lmao

this turned out surprisingly long, for something churned out in an hour hahaha

PAIRING: Yan An x reader. GENRE: one shot, general, fluff, some angst (bc of covid). WARNINGS: N/A. WORD COUNT: 1,196.

---

You impatiently shift your weight on both feet as you wait for the elevator to take you up to the boys’ floor. They’re probably busy doing… something, so you didn’t think to intrude, but it’s Yanan’s birthday, so what kind of partner would you be if you don’t at least try to visit him, right?

The elevator dings after what felt like an hour and you rush out, careful of the things in your hands--a simple gift for your boyfriend wrapped in that decorative tissue paper thing that fancy stores use, and a tiny box containing a single cupcake. Since he got back from China back in August, you’ve been tossing around plans for his birthday. But ultimately because of your schedules clashing, you weren’t able to decide on a proper celebration.

But you’re nothing if not sneaky. You made sure to ask Changgu their schedule for today, and he agreed to text you once they got to the dorm before leaving again for the company for a short birthday livestream and rehearsals. The boys needing to take turns showering and packing up their stuff gives you a small window of opportunity to stop by and deliver your gifts.

The hallway to the dorm is as familiar to you as the back of your hand, having visited there more times than you can count. You usually don’t need to glance at the room numbers, but you’re just so excited and nervous that you double check to make sure you’re on the right floor, turning the right corner, stopping at the right door.

You take a deep breath and press the doorbell. The butterflies are going wild in your stomach as footsteps get louder on the other side of the door. The door chain rattles and Changgu’s head pops out a moment later, that sweet smile on his face.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, voice a whisper. “It’s been too long.”

You raise a hand in greeting. You’re smiling back, but you’re not sure if he can tell from the mask you’re wearing. “Yeah, it’s been a while. Thank you for telling me your schedule today, Changgu.”

He opens the door a bit wider and rests his weight on the jamb. “It’s no biggie. Yanan will be happy to see you. Speaking of, I’ll go get him; he should be dressed by now.”

You nod in assent and he disappears back into the dorm, leaving the door ajar. You bounce your heel, looking for something to distract you from the thought of being seconds away from seeing your boyfriend.

More footsteps approach the entrance and your heart is thundering in your chest. The door opens and you crane your neck up, the action familiar from all the times you had to look up at him. Silver hair glows in the barely there light of the hallway, soft eyes once questioning give way to surprise, pretty pink lips curl up into a smile.

“Hi, Yanan,” you say, unable to hide the grin in your voice. You haven’t seen him in person since he got to Korea, and seeing him in front of you, a pillar of warmth in the chill of autumn, nearly makes you choke up. You offer up your gifts with shaking hands. “Happy birthday.”

“Y/N,” he whispers, unsure of what to do. He can’t touch you yet--you’ve been outside, and as much as he wants to hug you right now, you know he can’t. It’s enough to see each other. “I--thank you,” he says, carefully taking the paper bags from your outstretched hands.

Yanan grips the handles tightly, aching to hold you. “How’d you know I’d be at the dorm right now?”

You shrug. “I asked Changgu your schedule. He seemed really excited when I told him I wanted to stop by to greet you.”

Yanan chuckles, shaking his head. Of course Changgu would be your accomplice in this, He should have guessed when his roommate peeped in and said someone was at the door for him--the Chinese idol doesn’t really have many friends living in the vicinity, certainly no one who would go so far as to greet him in person on his birthday.

Except for you.

He’s been dying to see you, entertained thoughts of surprising you at your apartment once his 14-day quarantine was over. But he’s just been so damn busy that he barely has any time to rest anymore. He loves what he does and wouldn’t rather do anything else, but he misses you. Longs for you that it makes his throat close up.

He looks down at his presents--one is nondescript and he can’t actually tell what it is, but the other bag is from that cafe he likes, the rich smell of chocolate sneaking its way up to his nose.

He looks back at you, at your hands clasped tightly in front of you. You look like you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him right now, and it pains him that he can’t give you what you want.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says again. “Thank you for coming today.”

Yanan can see your eyes squint in a smile. “I missed your birthday last year; I’m not gonna miss it this time, too.” The grin that appears on his face is automatic.

You bid your goodbyes soon after, Yanan needing to finish packing his stuff and you needing to get home because you have an early morning tomorrow. There’s promises of video calls and texts and dates in the coming weeks before you turn and head for the elevator again. Yanan watches you, only going back inside when you turn the corner.

He gives the paper bags a quick spritz of alcohol as he makes his way into the tiny kitchenette. The cupcake box is quickly stored in the fridge before he turns to the other, bigger bag.

Yanan slides the package out--it’s soft, the thickness of the fabric noticeable through the wrapping. He unties the ribbon monogrammed with the brand’s name and unfolds the paper, takes the edges of the cloth and raises it, letting gravity unfurl the garment for him.

A scarf. Made of exquisitely soft wool, warm to the touch and perfect for the coming winter. It’s lined with two pinstripes in off-white on each side of the length of it. Simple, beautiful, and very much a gift you’d give him.

He thinks about wearing it while doing the livestream later, but decides against it--it’s hot in the filming room, and he doesn’t want to dirty your gift yet. So he wraps it around his neck, making sure to drape it artfully over his shoulders, and takes some quick selfies.

The rest of his dormmates find him a little later, standing in the middle of the kitchen with a scarf wrapped him, and glaring at his phone, finally hitting send on the message that took him way too long to compose:

Hello, dove. Thank you for the scarf--it’s very beautiful. Thank you for coming tonight, even if it’s only for a little while. I missed you so much, and I can’t wait to see you again soon. I love you.

[dramallamadingdang]

Time for replies!

These be for @princesspiratecat, @jennamaxon, @criquette-was-here, @nimitwinklesims, @eulaliasims, @greatcheesecakepersona, @alienbirthqueen, and @niamh-sims...

princesspiratecat replied to your photoset “Tree’ing a bit. :) Mostly to break up the monolithic terrain texture...”

This actually reminds me of where I live, Lake Arrowhead in Southern California when it's dry. Except I don't see a lake.

alienbirthqueen replied to your photoset “Houston, we have a terrain. :D FINALLY! OMG, what a ginormous pain in...”

this is so gorgeous!! it reminds me a lot of northeast california/nw nevada, which is where i grew up of course haha

Yeah, it’ll work pretty much for any desert-y place in North America. Like, anywhere from the Okanagan Desert in Canada, to the less mountainous parts of Montana down to New Mexico and west to the more interior parts of California, Oregon, and Washington in the US, and then down into interior northern Mexico. Mostly my inspiration for the look of the place is the Great Basin (so Alienbirthqueen is right on!) and Chihuahuan Deserts, though. Not so much the Mojave or the Sonoran because those are generally flatter (and lower in elevation and therefore much hotter/drier) and the vegetation is different. Like, there’re no saguaro cacti, which is the signature plant of the Sonoran, of course. But the Lake Arrowhead area (or the Lake Tahoe area) can work, too, given that I’m adding pines to break up lot-view textures. :) In that, it resembles my home turf in SW Colorado, as well.  

Except yeah, no water. The place may or may not have some on-lot water, though, which wouldn’t be big enough to be a lake. I’ll imagine it/them to be springs magically stocked with fish. But I haven’t decided on that yet. I mean, I DO like to build my fishing spots, but I’m trying to go for some authenticity here, trees notwithstanding. ;)

Anyway, basically any higher desert area that’s not a “sandy” place will do, at least with the season set-up I’m giving the place. (Which of course can be changed to make it whatever anyone wants.) It has spring and autumn...mostly because I like to use season-enabled trees/shrubs so that there’s a visual change with the seasons. I get kinda visually bored, if you will, otherwise. :) 

jennamaxon replied to your photoset “Tree’ing a bit. :) Mostly to break up the monolithic terrain texture...”

Rest rather green - much better in the second pic. For a moment, I thought you were frowning at the rubbish cart

Well, if we’re being all green and environmentally-conscious, rubbish is bad, right? :) But no, just frowning at the uber-green trees, I’m afraid. 

criquette-was-here replied to your photoset “Tree’ing a bit. :) Mostly to break up the monolithic terrain texture...”

Oh, this neighborhood makes me want to create this type of climate setting too! Somehow it feels like a place from a good old 90's road movie. Love the new texture for the pines. Looks way better!

Well, that would certainly be different for you! All your neighborhoods and pics are so green and European and pretty. Which isn’t a bad thing, of course, but I’d be very interested to see what you’d do with a more desert/wasteland sort of environment....

nimitwinklesims replied to your photoset “Houston, we have a terrain. :D FINALLY! OMG, what a ginormous pain in...”

Cool cool cool! It looks so much like your photo!

That’s what I was shooting for. But I tell you what, it was hard! I couldn’t figure out how TS2 decided which terrain images from the terrain default to paint where. It just seemed kind of random, and in some of my attempts, when put into TS2, the terrain was only using 2 (of the four) images in the terrain default, which looked really weird. So in the end, I put in an existing terrain, and then redid the road structure and resculpted most of the hills and such. Then, I still had to edit the terrain default to rearrange the images to suit this particular terrain to get it to look how I wanted. So it was more complicated than I’d envisioned. I could’ve probably put more time into figuring out what was going on with all that, but I just wanted to get ‘er done so I could start building.

eulaliasims replied to your photoset “Aw, c’mon, you didn’t really think I wouldn’t do rocks, did you? :)”

oh, this looks fantastic. I love the scrub--that's always something I've felt some desert neighborhoods need. it adds a lot!

niamh-sims replied to your photoset “Houston, we have a terrain. :D FINALLY! OMG, what a ginormous pain in...”

That looks fantastic! I love the scrubby scrubs- perfect for that environment!

Yeah, for this kind of desert -- the American kind, as in all of North and South America  -- there’s gotta be scrub. Pretty much the only American desert that doesn’t have scrub is the Atacama in S. America, since it’s like the driest place in the Americas. :) But even it has some scrub in places. I mean, this ain’t the Sahara or Arabian deserts! 

The lack of scrub really, REALLY bothers me in Strangetown, since that’s obviously supposed to be inspired by Roswell, NM. I am still going to play that neighborhood one of these days, but it has to undergo major terrain/deco renovation before I’ll be able to look at it without screaming bloody murder. :)

greatcheesecakepersona replied to your photoset “Houston, we have a terrain. :D FINALLY! OMG, what a ginormous pain in...”

Lovely! Now all that's missing is the Breaking Bad van :)

HAH!. Yeah, I’ve never watched that show (though it’s on our list to watch), but I know that it’s set in New Mexico, though I don’t know if it’s actually filmed there, so...yeah. :)

nimitwinklesims replied to your post “You sound like such a cool person! It's really nice to hear about...”

I often have a hard time keeping the classical composers apart (I'm embarrassed to admit), but Smetana's Ma Vlast always makes me cry -- it was played at my Czech grandfather's funeral... It's heartwarming to read that you like the Czech composers a lot. I'm Dutch but because of my děda I have a fondness for Czech things as well. Also, sort of related, I have played Händel's Harp Concerto at one point (when I was still taking harp lessons).

Yes, Ma Vlast is one of the best pieces of music ever written. IMO, at least. :) I’m not a person who’s into patriotism/nationalism, but I do tend to love music that has a concrete feeling for place, both physically and emotionally, and Ma Vlast has both. It’s why I love stuff that incorporates folk music from a particular country or area, because of that sense of place and time, and the Eastern European composers tend to do that really, really well, which is why I find myself drawn to them. Aaron Copland did that well, too, for American themes. Appalachian Spring (with its incorporation the Shaker “Simple Gifts” song) and the Billy the Kid and Rodeo ballet music and whatnot. Great stuff. I think that this is why I was ultimately drawn to film/TV scores, both in terms of performance and my own compositions. Film scores are designed to have a sense of place and character and sometimes history about them. So I guess it’s not surprising that that’s where I ended up spending more time, professionally speaking.

That said, for all that I am a classical musician, I’m not a walking compendium of knowledge about all of classical music. Certainly not now that I’ve been away from school/academia for *cough* like 30 years now! I have forgotten much of what I did once know, but frankly my knowledge was always pretty specialized. I know much about the body of work of specific composers in whom I have an interest, but much of the rest...I don’t care to know about it, frankly. All the baroque stuff? Meh. I mean, there’s bits of it that I like -- Handel wrote lots of good stuff, for instance -- but much of it just sounds all the same to me, and I’m just not interested enough to know more. Like, while I appreciate his technique and innovations and all that, I just don’t much like Bach’s music, for instance, and I took/take a lot of ribbing for that, but...I like what I like, and the rest of it I’m content to ignore. Which is pretty much my attitude in general, when it comes to music. *laugh*

jennamaxon replied to your post “You sound like such a cool person! It's really nice to hear about...”

The Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis is an outstanding piece of music. Real hair on the back of your neck stuff. If you like 20th C English choral - my recommendation would be Holst's The Evening Watch. I heard (and sung) it first at college. I was breathless after the first listen.

You know, Holst has a lot of good stuff that no one seems to know about. :) If the average person knows any Holst at all, their knowledge tends to begin and end with Mars and Jupiter from The Planets. Which is a shame. I need to listen to more of his stuff, myself, now that you mention it.

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Ephemera Chapter Eight

Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.

Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.

Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter is a little short unfortunately, but that’s because this week is a double update week! On Wednesday at 12 PM (PST), I’ll post Chapter Nine! So please stay tuned for that. I hope you guys like this chapter. We’re getting really close to some...fun developments and reveals so I can’t wait to get there! As always, thank you guys for your support and thank you for enjoying my work! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Ah, and links will be added later!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

Special update: Wednesday, February 6 at 12PM (PST)

“Wait, wait, wait-,” began Nara, sitting on the counter at Nunchi, Mr. Kim working beside her and me sitting opposite her on a stool. “So you…seduced him?”

My head fell onto the counter and I groaned. “Kinda…,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Did you guys, like,” said Nara, then stopped and cast suspicious looks over her shoulder at her busy father before leaning close to whisper, “do it?”

I coughed, clutching my chest as I turned wide eyes to her. “No!” I shouted, but the Sunday-mid-morning crowd of cafe-goers all gave me similar looks of disdain. I calmed myself and settled my gaze on her with a grimace. “I’d never do something like that.”

“Taking the moral high ground?” she asked with a laugh as she hopped down from the counter to sit beside me. “With a guy who’s only dating you to get to Vante?”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead as Mr. Kim approached with a cup of steaming red tea. I turned to him with a smile and nodded my thanks. “Sujeonggwa,” he said, turning back to his espresso. “Extra honey.”

I took a sip and eased into my seat a little. “I’m amazed you remember that, Mr. Kim,” I said with a laugh as the warm autumn tea slid down my throat.

He hummed in response, broad back turned to both me and Nara. “Your dad told me never to give you caffeine, so I always added extra honey just to give him a hard time,” he said with a chuckle.

I smiled. “Reminds me of my childhood,” I said. “When things made sense.”

Nara pinched my arm and furrowed her brow at me. “Knock it off with that depressing shit, Y/N,” she said with a sigh, fanning her silver hair out behind her. “You should be happy, shouldn’t you? You found his weakness and to top it off it’s super easy to use against him since it’s…well, you.”

I shook my head. “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” I said with a pout, warming my hands on the sides of my drink. “But something about it keeps bothering me.”

Nara sighed and turned to face me properly in her stool, posture poor as she met my eyes. “You’re feeling guilty,” she said.

I stiffened, looking back down to my drink with flushed cheeks. “I’m not.”

“Liar.”

I turned to her, frowning. “Well what do you want me to say, Nara? That I feel like shit for using someone who’s been using me for months?”

She smiled softly and reached a hand out to pat my knee. “Yeah,” she said. “At least it’s honest.”

“I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said, resting my cheek in my hand as my eyes slid to the kitchen behind Mr. Kim where Mrs. Kim was slicing persimmons. “Isn’t this like Stockholm Syndrome?” I asked, mostly as a joke.

Nara laughed. “It’s only Stockholm Syndrome if you’re trapped,” she said, flicking the side of my head with one manicured nail. “Exit’s right in front of you.”

Everyone had been telling me things like that lately. And despite that small flash of bravery with Jungkook, I was still holding myself back. I furrowed my brow as I struggled to put it to words, but the nameless sensation was elusive, impossible to grab.

With a sigh, I simply shut my eyes and shrugged. “I guess…just because someone is bad to me doesn’t mean I have to be bad too.”

“What’re you gonna do?” asked Nara softly from beside me, and I felt her rest her hand palm-down on my back, right between my shoulder blades.

“I’ve gotta tell Taehyung.”

Professor Jung concluded the lecture and shut his notebook, shouting the homework at the rapidly exiting students. Instead of following the flow of bodies like I normally would, I fought past them to find Taehyung. I emerged in front of him, scratching my arm without meeting his eyes. Why was I suddenly feeling so guilty? What did I have to be guilty for? I had to tell Taehyung about it.

Even if it felt like I was betraying Jungkook.

“Oh, hey,” he said with a soft smile from below as he gathered his things in his  leather messenger bag. “What’s up?”

“You have some free time?” I asked, finally looking at him properly.

His glasses, which had been broken beyond repair the last time we’d met, were now good as new. Or perhaps, just new. He blinked at me with tender eyes and I tried to return his smile, but it felt stiff.

“Mhm,” he said, standing to join me as I led the way to the hallway. The two of us walked side-by-side for a moment before he spoke up again. “Sorry I rushed out in the morning. I had to get to work.”

I stiffened and turned to him, shaking my head. “No! I’m sorry for staying over after all that,” I said, face beet-red as the embarrassment finally caught up with me. I paused at the building entrance and turned to Taehyung, holding out the large H&M bag I’d folded his clothes into. “Which reminds me, here’re your clothes.”

He took a half-step back and furrowed his brow. “What? You don’t need to return those,” he said, his head cocked to the side.

“These are designer,” I said, shaking the bag. “You can’t just give them to me.”

He shrugged but took the bag nonetheless. I had a feeling it was more to appease me than acknowledge that I was right. “It’s not that big a deal, Y/N.”

“Maybe not to you,” I said, then sighed and shook my head. “But that’s my rent in there.”

“Then keep it,” he said, trying to hand the bag back to me.

Before he could, I slipped out the door and onto the sidewalk, bracing myself against the cold by burrowing deeper into my sweatshirt. Taehyung emerged from inside breathlessly after fighting with other students to get outside and met me on the curb with a frown.

“Seriously, keep it,” he said.

I pushed the bag gently and by accident my fingertips brushed his abdomen. His eyes went wide and he coughed a little, inching away. “Forget about the clothes. I’ve got some news about Jungkook,” I said, cringing at the way his name tumbled guiltily from my parted lips.

Taehyung’s eyes went wide. “You do? In just a few days?”

“It’s been…a long few days,” I said with a nod, sighing as I turned toward campus. “We should go someplace a little more remote. He’s always wandering around here.”

“He’s a student, right?”

“Film student,” I said, sweeping my gaze across the courtyard in search of a bobbing brown bowl-cut.

“Really? Is he any good a filmmaking?” asked Taehyung, pursing his lips.

I went still. Had I ever even seen any films he’d made? Had I ever bothered to ask? Had I truly been so enamored by the idea of him that I never paused for even a moment to figure out who he was? What kind of relationship had this been anyway?

A sham on both sides.

I cleared my throat and made my way down the cement stairs. “Let’s get outta here.”

I sat shivering on a bench, awaiting Taehyung’s return. Once we’d found a quiet place to sit overlooking several weaving Hongdae streets, Taehyung had insisted on buying some of the spicy rice cakes from the vendor nearby. Not keen on interacting with anyone while I composed my thoughts, I opted to sit down and wait. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw his back turned to me, waiting in line behind a couple as they took their sweet time ordering. As if sensing I was looking, Taehyung turned to peek at me and mimed a gagging face behind the couple. I laughed as he slouched and tapped the face of his watch with a frown.

Before I could offer a response, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and fished it out, quick to read the text.

Coconut: u busy?

Y/N: Mhm. Why?

Coconut: miss ur dumb face >:(

Y/N: You saw my dumb face on Sunday.

Coconut: that was DAYS ago

Coconut: i need a recharge

Coconut: i feel…

Coconut: my strength…

Coconut: draining….ack!

Y/N: Stop spamming. I’m with a friend.

Just as Taehyung returned, I pocketed my cell phone with a sigh and turned to him. “Boyfriend?” he asked, eyeing me as he offered me a toothpick.

I took it and speared a rice cake, eating quickly with a frown. “Yeah. He’s shaking me up.”

Taehyung chuckled and nudged the food my way once more. Without a word, I took another rice cake into my mouth. He laughed. “You said you had something to tell me about him?”

I nodded. “I figured out an angle,” I said, but my voice was low and I felt chilly despite the warm rice cakes.

Taehyung’s eyes went wide and he focused on me properly. “You did? How?”

“I had him over to my family home and I saw some texts on his phone,” I said with a sigh. “It feels kinda dirty though.”

“After everything he’s done?”

“Maybe he has a reason.”

“Reason enough to hurt Vante?”

I went quiet, simply watching my lap, before I shook my head and shrugged. “Forget it,” I said, fiddling with my hands. “Doesn’t help anyone to get into an ethical debate.”

Taehyung sighed and nodded. “You’re right,” he said, then glanced at me through his thick lashes. “So…your angle?”

I ran a hand through my hair and met his eyes slowly. “He has feelings for me,” I said.

Taehyung’s brows raised. “You sure about it?”

“Pretty much,” I said, then let my eyes focus on something distant, something not really there. “He’s having a hard time separating his personal feelings from whatever job he’s doing. If I’m a pawn, he’s getting reluctant to use me.”

“So…the angle is to use his feelings for you as leverage?” asked Taehyung. Coming from someone else, I might have thought he was being sarcastic. But his tone was sincere and when I looked at him I noticed his eyes had that same faraway quality as mine.

“Yeah,” I said, still scanning his face. “Even though it feels shitty.”

“It’s what he did to you,” said Taehyung with a shrug. “If he can play that way, so can you, right?”

I nodded. “I guess…I guess I have to, huh?” My phone buzzed once more in my pocket.

Taehyung, likely sensing my hesitance, turned to me and met my eyes. “Remember what happened at the club?”

My heart clenched at the mention of that night and the chilliness in my stomach gave way to something a little warmer. I set my brow. “Yes.”

“Remember that girl you saw?” asked Taehyung.

I met his eyes, the warm feeling going hot. “Yes.”

“How did that make you feel?” he asked slowly, brows low like this was the most serious conversation he’d ever had.

I turned to him. “Made me feel like he was making a fool of me,” I said, remembering the way he’d rushed to the edge of the mezzanine to watch me run away, eyes alight. Remembering Seokjin beside him. “Like they wee all making a fool of me.”

Taehyung slowly smirked. “Well, what if I told you that with this new information, there might be a way to rectify that?”

My back went straight and I eyed him. “Like revenge?”

“For what he did to you, to your pride…don’t you want to show him he can’t treat you that way and get away with it?” asked Taehyung.

I smiled, the thought of it enticing, and met his eager eyes. “You have a plan?”

“Hatching one,” he said, roughly standing to his feet and leaving the rice cakes on my lap. He smiled down at me and shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat. “I’ve got a lot of arrangements to make, but-,” he began, a knowing smile on his face that briefly made my heart race, “keep next Saturday free.”

“Next Saturday?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

He nodded. “I think I know how to rattle their entire plan and you’re gonna have to help me.”

My eyes went wide. “I am?” I asked, pointing at my chest.

He smiled and turned on his heel, eager to leave the bench and the street and likely the neighborhood altogether. “I gotta go start getting things in order. I’ll update you once everything’s set.”

“O-Okay,” I said, flushed as the wind whipped my hair around.

And with that he was gone. Quietly, I pulled my phone from my pocket and red over the message. As I did, a slow smile crept over my lips.

Coconut: The same friend who gave you those nice clothes?

He never texted that way with me. Proper punctuation, capitalization? With a chuckle, I popped another rice cake in my mouth and, still chewing, I wrote my response in seconds.

Y/N: The very same :)

Sighing, I pulled my blazer up around my shoulders and met my own eyes in the mirror. This one was snugger than the one I’d left behind at the club. I found at my pumps as they sat in the corner, one knocked over on its side and the other still dirty from running around Seoul with Taehyung. I leaned down to run my index finger along the raised ring of blisters along my ankles and hissed at the tenderness. Resigned to my fate, I grabbed for my heels but out the corner of my eye something caught my attention.

A pair of flats I’d bought for my interview at Gallery V and worn only once, sitting lonesome on the shoe rack.

I stood upright and mused over the shoes. How much trouble would they cause really? They looked professional, and I’d be much more apt to carry heavy canvases and direct tours if my feet weren’t screaming with every step. Cautiously, I picked one up and slid my toes inside. With a sigh, I eased into the comfortable shoe. I grabbed the opposite pump and slipped it on with a wince, my right knee bending to accommodate for the shorter shoe on my left foot. Even without my full weight on it, the shoe made my heel ache, fire shooting from each blister up to my hips.

I stared at myself for a long moment, touching my ascot gently as I thought. I knew Mr. Kwon would have a fit if I made one more misstep. Surely he wouldn’t fire me over shoes, but after the incident with the patron before and my wearing lingerie to work, I wasn’t so sure we were in the best standing. But he was reasonable enough, wasn’t he?

That presupposed I’d have the guts to reason with him at all…

A glimmer caught my attention and I realized with a jolt to my gut that it was the ruby necklace, glittering in the light from my window as it sat on my bedside table inside its case. I took one last look at myself in the mirror before, with a budding smile, I kicked off my heel and slipped into the second flat, grabbing the necklace on my way out the door.

“Thank you for your business,” I said gently with a bow as a patron left the building after buying a painting.

She waved over her shoulder with a grin, her kitten heels clacking against the hardwood. “Thank you for the excellent service,” she said before turning and breezing into the hall.

I smiled and laced my fingers behind my back. Beside me, Areum meandered the floor, occasionally explaining a piece or gesturing with perfect hands toward features in the gallery. Her legs looked long and powerful in her heels, but as she swiveled around to greet another patron I noticed through her nude pantyhose that her ankles were raw and red.

“Excuse me?” said a voice from beside me.

I jumped and turned to see Jungkook standing at my side, grinning down at me. The overhead lights gave his hair a halo and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was an angel. He reached out and tucked a loose hair behind my ear. Perhaps my conversation with Taehyung had really shaken me up, or perhaps something in me was really shifting, but that charming twinkle in his eye did little to move me. Instead, I simply smiled and placed a cold hand on his bicep, leaning close and watching as his skin went pink. All I could see was the image of him holding that girl close on his lap. All I could remember was the fact that he’d spent the weekend with my dad and was still intent on using me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as I touched the delicate pendant resting on my clavicle.

He glanced to the photograph beside my head. “I wanted to see you working,” he said, eyes wide as he scanned the print. “This is really cool.”

“Mr. Film Studies approves?” I asked, eyeing him.

He chuckled. “How could I not?” he asked.

He was right. The photo was pretty amazing. Another black-and-white print, the piece featured a windowsill from below, Seoul spread out like wings extending in either direction before disappearing into the harsh line of the pane. Light streamed through in geometric shapes, reaching in from the window to just brush against someone’s hand, resting against white bedsheets. Apart from that shaft of light, near-darkness took up the rest of the shot.

“Vante is interested in natural forms,” I said with a nod, falling into the familiar rhythm of docent and patron. Jungkook marveled at the work with an almost fond smile. “Are you familiar with Imogen Cunningham?”

Jungkook nodded. “Learned about her in my photography class last year,” he said, still unable to look away from the photo.

I smiled. “This picture always reminds me of The Unmade Bed,” I said.

He hummed, crossing his arms. “I see it,” he said as he pointed to the single visible hand. “Like capturing a candid, natural moment.”

“Do you like to do that?” I asked, then wished I hadn’t. Wanting to know more only meant trouble.

“With film?” he asked, wide eyes on me. I said nothing, simply stared at the photo. He smiled and sighed in a way that was nearly wistful. “Yeah. Art is supposed to be mimetic, you know? It should hold a mirror to the world without flinching.”

I stiffened. Since when had he been so profound? I glanced up at him only to find his eyes affixed once more to the print. “The best art does,” I said slowly.

“I’d like to do that,” he said with a nod. “Making up stories about people that could be real, imagining what they might do or say, and then articulating it in a physical space…it’s really cool, right?” he asked, looking at me with a speculative wonder in his gaze that disarmed me.

I swallowed hard and blinked. “Um…ah, yeah,” I said, a breathy laugh following that I wished I kept inside. I scratched my arm and nodded. “That’s pretty grand.”

“I think I have a long way to go though,” he said with a sigh, wringing his hands. “I don’t understand people well enough yet.”

“But you want to?” I asked.

He smiled and nodded, reaching a hand out to adjust the ascot around my neck. “To understand art, you gotta understand human nature,” he said, then laughed and shrugged, still fiddling with my scarf. “But humans are really complicated. I wish I could understand what motivates certain people.”

“Certain people?” I asked, eyes wide and heart fluttering.

He smiled as he finally got the scarf to lay just so and let his fingers brush against the necklace. “This looks nice on you,” he said before returning his focus to the photographs lining the wall. “What else can you show me?”

I stiffened and opened my mouth to respond, but paused as I felt someone approach. Quietly, I turned to see Mr. Kwon standing near my flank, brows furrowed and expression severe.

“Hello, Sir,” I said with a bow, hands pressed against my stomach.

He returned it with a bare nod before sighing. “May I speak to you for a moment?” he asked, terse.

I stood upright and met his troubled eyes. “What is it, Sir?” I asked.

“Let’s not discuss this in front of a patron,” he said, voice low.

I took a step back slightly and blinked at him. “Is it very serious?”

“Quite,” he responded, curt.

I glanced at Jungkook who was avoiding looking at me, presumably to preserve my dignity. But by then, a familiar anger was beginning to take shape in my stomach. “Sir, this is my friend. He’s not looking to buy anything. Please, if you have something to talk to me about I’d much rather discuss it here rather than leave Areum to work the floor alone,” I protested, leaning back.

Mr. Kwon sighed and gripped his nose bridge. “Y/N, you really must learn to respect the dress code,” he said, eyeing my shoes.

There it was.

Something was beginning to splinter in my brain. Perhaps it was my patience. I inhaled sharply and glanced down at my feet. “Sir, I’ve been experiencing a lot of pain in my feet because of the heels.”

He met my eyes and shook his head, vaguely woeful. “I know it’s inconvenient, but we have to maintain a very professional affect.”

I crossed my arms, something I’d never have done even a few days ago, and furrowed my brow. “My shoes don’t affect my professionalism, Sir. In fact, the uniform heels are extremely uncomfortable and likely lower my work performance,” I said, eyeing him. “Significantly.”

“We just had this discussion, Y/N,” he said, his tone tense as his eyes darted around the gallery.

I bit my tongue. I wasn’t usually this uppity. Normally, I’d take the critique and move on. But this time, I couldn’t quite sate my outrage. And as I quietly lifted my hand to readjust my loose ascot, my fingers once again swept over that tiny pendant. And I remembered something Mr. Kwon himself had said to me during our last discussion.

People only have the power you give them.

I stood up straighter and met his eyes in a flash. “The male employees here don’t have to wear uncomfortable clothes to be considered professional.”

“That’s…,” began Mr. Kwon, but he only shook his head and cleared his throat. “That’s not the issue at hand.”

“But it is, Sir,” I said, my protests tumbling freely from my lips as I became more and more enmeshed in my out upset. “It all leads into the same issue. It’s absolutely unfair for the female employees to be held to a higher standard than the men, expected to work long hours on our feet in heels that give us blisters. Even Areum’s ankles are red. This has nothing to do with professionalism.”

He stiffened and furrowed his bushy brows. “Y/N-,” he began, but I shook my head.

“And furthermore, what about my flats is unprofessional? I’m wearing pantyhose as required, my blazer is buttoned in the center, my ascot is angled properly to the left, my blouse covers my chest, my hair is out of my face, and what’s more I just made a large sale,” I said, my words zooming quickly and nearly bleeding into one another. “If I remember correctly, last quarter I made more sales than any of our other employees. Just think of how many sales I could make if I could wear comfortable shoes.”

Mr. Kwon stood blinking at me for a long moment. He wasn’t a bad man. By no means. Just…old school. And perhaps it was time someone taught him a new thing or two. So as he stared at me, and the brief compulsion to apologize and retract my complaints emerged in my brain, I quickly quieted the urge down with a steadying inhale. I crossed my arms and raised my brows, awaiting a response.

Eventually, he closed his mouth and cleared his throat once more, eyes flashing toward Jungkook before resting once more on me. “Perhaps you’re right. It may be useful to begin implementing a more reasonable dress code.” With a curt bow, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway toward his office.

For an infinite moment, I simply stared after him agape, eyes transfixed on his wake as my thoughts ran miles faster than I could account for. My cheeks were hot with adrenaline and, while they still ached slightly from past abuse, my feet felt fine.

“Holy shit…,” said Jungkook beside me.

I was once again aware of his presence and turned to him with wide eyes, finding him marveling at me. A smile was playing with the edges of his lips and there was a fondness in the way he scanned me from above that I wasn’t quite expecting.

“What?” I asked slowly, unable to process even the simplest of thoughts.

He scoffed and rubbed his jaw, cheeks flushed. “That was…,” he began, then shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Reckless? Stupid? Uncalled for? Rash?” I asked, eyes going hazy as they focused on nothing in the distance.

He was quiet for a moment before, without looking at me, he said, “Hot.”

With my bag slung over my shoulder, ready to brace the hazy autumn evening, I felt a hand gently touch my elbow and nearly leapt out of my skin. Turning quickly, I found Taehyung staring surprised at me in the near-empty break room, his round eyes wide.

I caught my breath and gave him a smile. “Hey, what’s up?” I asked.

He righted himself and released my arm with a soft chuckle. “Ah, just a delivery,” he said, holding an envelope out to me. The card stock was thick, expensive, and had been obviously opened and resealed with a proper wax stamp. “It’s the plan I was talking about,” he added with a wink.

I stiffened and stared down at the thick envelope, running my fingers over it. “So fast?” I asked.

He nodded. “I had to get things together quickly since we’ve only got a week and a half.”

“God,” I said, smiling slowly. Did this envelope truly contain my salvation? “It’s only been a few days. How involved is this plan anyway?”

Taehyung chuckled, like he knew something I didn’t which was probably true. He rubbed the back of his neck with a shrug. “More involved than you’d think.”

“Am I gonna have to do anything crazy?” I asked, my voice hushed, as I scanned the break room and the hallway for any peeping coworkers.

Taehyung placed both hands on my shoulders and forced me to look at him. “Nobody’s listening in,” he said with a smile that briefly made my heart race. “And I’d never ask you to do anything I didn’t think you’d approve of.”

I exhaled slowly and nodded, holding the envelope close to my chest. “Alright,” I said quietly.

Taehyung smiled, nicking my chin with his knuckles, before turning on his heel. “I’ve gotta get back to work, but if you’ve got any questions-,” he began, then stopped and furrowed his brow. “Wait, you don’t have my number.”

I laughed and began fishing my phone from my bag, but Taehyung was quicker. He grabbed my hand and pulled a pen from the pocket of his massive coat, leaning down to get a better look at my skin. Suddenly, I felt flushed. Watching the top of his head as he wrote, I struggled not to squirm under the ticklish feeling of his pen sliding across my palm.

For a moment, I mused from my slightly elevated vantage point. His face was actually very well-proportioned. It was difficult to see past his big glasses and his shaggy hair, but he really was handsome. Perhaps there was something to that old movie trope about the shy girl with glasses becoming a total babe when she took them off.

Suddenly, his eyes flashed up to meet mine and I stiffened. It was almost as if I’d been caught ogling him, like he could read my thoughts somehow, but when he spoke I knew my mind was still safe. “What’s that face about?” he asked.

I sighed and tilted my head to the side, thinking. “You’ve got a really good face,” I blurted, unable to stop myself from saying it.

His cheeks flamed scarlet and he stiffened, taking a step back from me with wide eyes. “I-I-where did that come from?” he asked with a breathy laugh.

I shrugged and glanced down at my palm. He’d taken so long because beside his number he’d drawn a little doodle of himself, big glasses and shaggy hair and all.

I smiled at the drawing before meeting his eyes again. “I’ll save your number,” I said.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Alright,” he said, then offered a smile and made his way out into the hallway where he eventually faded from my view.

Slowly, I turned my attention to the envelope, pulling it open and fumbling with seeking fingers to find whatever was hidden inside. First, I found a letter on thick paper, bent into a trifold. I gave it a long, slow, stunned read.

You are cordially invited to attend Ori Technologies’  first annual charity ball.

Time: 19:00

Location: Coex Convention & Exhibition Center, Grand Ballroom

Attire: Formal

I gaped at the invitation, struggling to reason with the beautiful, scrawling font, the words that seemed to sit on top of my brain rather than seeping in like oil on water. Once I regained my senses, I returned to the envelope. I pulled out a sticky note, likely from Vante himself and likely the reason he’d opened the envelope in the first place.

Bring a date.

Without any further explanation, I knew precisely what he meant. This ball was the talk of Seoul, and I’d only heard about Vante attending the other day from the radio. So much information was demanding my attention, and yet I couldn’t focus on a single thing.

Except for that note, the thing that made it all make sense.

Without wasting another second, I rushed out across the floor and into the still-open elevator, already planning my route to Jungkook’s apartment.

The commute felt longer than usual, perhaps since I had something so important to do, but after what seemed like eternity, I arrived outside Jungkook’s door. Perhaps I could have called him first, but my brain had been too scattered to think of doing something like that. So instead, I stood slightly out of breath, clutching a wrinkling envelope in my fist as I raised it to pound on his door.

Jungkook was quick to answer, swinging the door open, but his eyes were downcast, looking at something in his own hand. When he lifted his eyes to meet mine I could see he was distracted, like his mind was unplugged from his body.

“Oh,” he said, giving a smile that felt too forced even for me. “Hi.”

I returned it and began smoothing the envelope on my thigh. “Jungkook, I have some crazy news,” I said, unable to contain the excitement in my voice. But what was I excited for really? The ball or what was to come of it? Guilt briefly seized my heart, but quickly fled as I glanced up and saw Jungkook’s expression go dark, brows furrowed. “What is it?” I asked.

He rested a white-knuckled hand on the doorframe, not meeting my eyes as he obviously stewed over something. “Y/N, have you been honest with me?” he asked.

I stiffened and scanned him, searching for anything that might allude to my undoing, but found only frustration in his expression. “What do you mean?”

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, turning to face me with knitted brows. “What’s this, Y/N?” he asked, opening his palm for me to see what he’d been holding.

I glanced down and saw, with a shock that stole all the warmth from my body, my student ID sitting perfectly in his outstretched hand.

The one I’d given the bouncer at that club…

[airadam]

Episode 137 : Goodbye Summer

"I'm like when we turn the clocks back in October..."

- Sha

The autumn is here, but given that we're still mostly shut up in the house, it's a pretty academic point. Still, it means that musically we start looking in the hoodies and Timbs direction, and some of that cold weather flavour makes its way into this month's selection...

Twitter : @airadam13

Twitch : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Curren$y & Harry Fraud : 1 Luv (Roll The Credits)

Curren$y is so prolific, it feels like every time I log onto Spotify he's got something new out. This is the outro for the 2020 "The Director's Cut" mixtape, but works just as well as a low-key intro. I'd definitely recommend giving the whole release a spin.

Bagnon Titi : Love And Time

We've been to the "Smooth Grooves Beat Tape" a few times, but inexplicably not for this track until now! I personally might have preferred the mix/EQ to be a bit different on this one (more prominence to the bassline maybe), but the flipping of this well-known sample is excellent.

Nas : N.Y. State Of Mind Pt. II

"Mama should have cuffed me to the radiator" is one of the starkest, rawest lines ever, and the sad story of nine friends reduced to three is told with more efficiency than you could imagine possible. Sequels often disappoint compared to the originals, but this is a worthy successor to the first "NY State Of Mind", with Nas and DJ Premier coming back together on "I Am..." for an underrated classic.

Shyne : More Or Less

Shyne was well into his prison term for the 1999 Club New York shooting incident when "Godfather Buried Alive", his second album, was released in 2004 - understandably not on Bad Boy, but by Def Jam. The vocals were mostly pre-prison recordings with a few things recorded over the phone, and as such, it's not as coherent as you might like - but this was a great cut. A quality bit of sampling from the early days of Kanye West drives this one along, and Shyne comes with the rawness on the mic. "Hip-Hop's not responsible for violence in America / America's responsible for violence in America"? Can't argue with that.

Chemical Brothers ft. Beth Orton : Alive Alone

I remember playing this one in the headphones on many a dark, rainy night after "Exit Planet Dust" was released, so I thought it'd be a good one to include this month. Dark, slow, moody, with Beth Orton's gentle vocals over the  top - perfection.

Mayhem Lauren : Peace Dad

Back over to Queens for some flavour (pun partially intended) from one of the biggest culinary fans in the Hip-Hop game. A short and sweet two verses over Tommy Mas production from the "Respect The Fly Shit" mixtape.

[Pete Rock] Edo G : Just Call My Name (Instrumental)

It was great that the most recent release of the "My Own Worst Enemy" LP by Edo G and Pete Rock contained instrumentals of all the tracks - really makes it an essential purchase for fans of these two legendary veterans. I don't know if the bass and horn samples come from the same place, but the interplay is expertly done!

Nas, Remy Ma, Ghostface Killah, Dave East, Styles P, RadhaMUS Prime : The Mecca

Brand new heat! From the soundtrack to the new film "The 40-Year-Old Version" comes a wicked NYC collaboration that features contributions from all the five boroughs (with Brooklyn represented by Da Beatminerz on production). This one should earn a few rewinds, as all the veterans get busy.

Shabaam Sahdeeq : Pendilum

We take it back to the heyday of the underground 12s for this A3-side - it may not be an example of Chuck's Law (the main track is a killer), but it's still quality. Shabaam is all Brooklyn lyricism on the mic and Dr.Sato (on what looks to be his only production credit) uses what sounds like a sitar sample as the centre of the beat.

LMNO & Kev Brown : Who's That?

LMNO is one of the least subtle MCs I can think of, but he does his job well enough here alongside the bassline king Kev Brown on the "Selective Hearing" LP. That said, the bass is pretty sparse outside of the hook and leaves plenty of space for LMNO to take centre stage.

Torae ft. Sha Stimuli and Kel Spencer : Save The Day

I've been waiting to play this song specifically in October just for the line that I used for this month's epigram :) Khrysis is on the boards with the heat, and the trio of MCs coming with the goods on this cut from the 2008 "Daily Conversation" LP. If you haven't heard it, it's a solid release, definitely worth checking out. 

Da Beatminerz : Take That (Instrumental)

This beat may be almost 20 years old (originally from 2001's "Brace 4 Impak"), but it smacks strongly even today - a testament to the quality of the production and the engineering.

Oh No ft. Buckshot : Gets Mine

"Exodus Into Unheard Rhythms" is one of the first LPs I can think of that was based around samples from one artist only - in this case, the late multi-talented composer Galt McDermot. This track has a cross between that midnight creep sound and some majestic piano business, and while Oh No has a quality verse, bringing in Buckshot as the feature was inspired - perfect choice.

Timeless Truth : What A Life

Straight no chaser from the 2013 debut by TT, "Rock-It Science" (great title). R.Thentic chops the pianos in a serious fashion over a boom-bap beat, and despite this being on a group LP, Solace goes solo end-to-end on the mic.

Rapsody ft. King Mez and Laws : Top Five

I can't quite believe that "Thank H.E.R. Now" is almost ten years old already, but it's an entry in Rapsody's catalogue that is definitely worth going back to explore if you missed it the first time round. "Top Five" is a nice all-southern mic workout with Rapsody and Mez repping North Carolina, and Laws coming out of Florida. Production comes from Amp of The Soul Council, and if I dare say it, sounds reminiscent of mid-2000s Preemo style.

Redman ft. E3 : Ride

This track is the month's rediscovery thanks to my vinyl digitisation project - I hadn't dug it out for years!  It's drawn from the soundtrack of a 2003 film called "Biker Boyz" which, from the critical reception, I probably won't ever get around to watching, but I got this on a promo 12". Production and vocal duties are both shared between Redman and E3, and it's really well-executed within the style frame it inhabits - polished, nicely engineered, but with the funk on the low end.

Ilajide : Number One

To my ears, this man is lining himself up as ones of the kings of the bassline - not when it comes to complexity, but just the sheer sonic impact. This instrumental from "3" bangs along with a low end that will give any system a workout.

Boot Camp Clik : And So

When it comes to hoodie and boot weather, you have to include the Boot Camp Clik in any musical discussion. You'd also usually be talking about Da Beatminerz in the same breath, but this cut from 2002's "The Chosen Few" was produced by Curt Cazal, best known for his work as part of JVC Force. On the mic, the late Sean Price, Tek and Steele, Top Dog, and Buckshot of Black Moon kick it straight Brooklyn style, and it sounds very much like they may have had an issue with a certain mixtape DJ...

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Ephemera Chapter Seven

Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.

Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.

Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 7.0k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Hello hello! My sister has been in town visiting me this weekend, so I was nervous with all the activity that I wouldn’t get the chapter done how I want it, but in the end it worked out well! I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you so much for all the endless support and encouragement you guys send. It means the world. And as always, please feel free to shoot comments, critiques, ideas, questions, theories, or really anything my way! I’ll respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them. And I will add links later! For now, please just check my masterlist for previous chapters~

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

“Hello?” I called through the courtyard, dragging my luggage behind me as I glanced around.

Just like always, pots the size of my waist sat haphazardly around the court, foliage slightly unkempt and growing in vines around the gaps in the stone fencing. The wheels of my suitcase caught in patches of gravel likely dragged in from the dirt road. In the distance, I heard the sound of old tires screeching. Our cab had officially left us in the dust.

“Why didn’t your dad pick you up?” asked Jungkook from behind me, eyes scanning the old house eagerly.

I glanced back at him. “It’s rice season,” I said, then shrugged and picked my suitcase up off its wheels, sick of struggling.

“Rice-,” began Jungkook, but his words halted as he watched me maneuver awkwardly through the courtyard.

I hoisted my luggage up onto the raised patio with a grunt and climbed up after it. “Dad?!” I called, louder this time.

I heard shuffling from inside the house, and a frantic sort of mumble-yell that I knew belonged to my dad. I smiled and jerked my head toward the door as Jungkook lingered awkwardly below me in the court. With wide eyes, he jumped and nodded, hopping up to stand beside me.

“Comin’, comin’!” called Dad from behind the thin door before sliding it out of the way with a big grin. “Well if it isn’t my little booger!”

I laughed as he yanked me roughly into his arms. Still a tough, weathered man, my father’s eyes disappeared whenever he smiled and his big hands were calloused and tanned from years of toil under the sun. When he pulled back, I noticed he was darker than usual with red patches on the highs of his cheeks and nose.

“You’re not wearing sunscreen,” I said with a pout.

He ruffled my hair and smiled. “Sorry, kiddo. Takes too much time in the mornin’,” he said, then glanced back, eyes going wide as if he’d finally noticed Jungkook standing there. “And who’s this handsome kid?”

I turned to see Jungkook standing stiffly, his back completely straight as he blinked at my dad like a man in the military. “Jeon Jungkook, sir.”

I sputtered a laugh, but covered it with my hand and a faux cough. “Ahem,” I said, then patted my dad’s arm with a smile. “My boyfriend. The one I told you about.”

Dad marveled at Jungkook for a long moment, mouth agape, before blinking at me and giving a bright smile. “Ah! Well welcome in, Jungkook!” he said before enveloping Jungkook in a gruff bear-hug. He laughed heartily as he pulled away and scanned Jungkook for a moment. “Like lookin’ in a picture of me twenty years ago! Doesn’t he look like me, Grubs?”

I laughed and nodded. “Sure, Dad,” I said, patting his shoulder and slipping past him into the house.

Dad hooked an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders as the two strolled in with the autumn breeze. Dad’s flannel was crusted with dirt and his cap was on backwards, allowing his face to accumulate quite a nice film of dust. I sighed at him as he rattled off compliments to Jungkook rapid-fire, the young boy staring at the older with wide eyes and a half-smile that only made him look uncomfortable.

“Dad,” I whined, crossing my arms.

He glanced at me, like he’d forgotten my presence at all, and blinked. “Huh?” he asked, jerking up his chin.

I gripped the bridge of my nose. “You’ve been in the field all morning, haven’t you?” I asked.

He sniffled a little, releasing Jungkook’s shoulders to rub beneath his nose. “Well, ‘course. It’s rice season.”

Jungkook furrowed his brow and blinked, opening his mouth as if to speak but before he could I stole the chance. “Dad!” I continued, shaking my head. “If you were working you should’ve told me not to come.”

“You know what season it is,” said Dad with a shrug, wandering into the kitchen and rifling through the fridge. As he bent down to examine it, I noticed him wince just a little. “You want a beer, Mr. Kook? I gotta heck of a stash here.”

Jungkook opened his mouth again, but I still wasn’t finished. “Honestly, Dad! You’re too nice. You should have told me if you were too busy,” I protested.

He smiled, grabbing three beers and handing one to both me and Jungkook. “Here you are, kiddos,” he said, touching the glass necks of both of our bottles with a grin. “Grub, why don’t you show your boyfriend the spare room? I gotta get back out there.”

“Dad!”

“Excuse me, but-,” began Jungkook.

I held my hand out to silence him and frowned. “Don’t you have Hyuk helping you these days?”

“Kid’s got a girlfriend to see on weekends,” said Dad in a mumble, waving his hand dismissively as he took a swig of beer. “Anyway, I’m plenty strong. I can manage on my own sometimes too.”

I sighed. “I have a -,” started Jungkook again.

“You always do this,” I said, shaking my head. “Dad, if you’re too soft, people will take advantage of you.”

Dad smiled at me, pearly teeth exposed and eyes crescent moons. He ruffled my hair again and laughed before turning toward the back door with a wave. “Glad to have you home, Pumpkin!”

“Dad!” I called, having half a mind to run after the man and stop him mid-stride. But instead I simply sighed and ran a hand through my hair, eyes on the ground.

“Um…,” said Jungkook from behind me, and I slowly turned to face him. He stood by the entrance to the kitchen, one hand in the air as if he was in grade school, cheeks flushed and brows knitted. “I have a question.”

I nodded. “What is it?”

“What’s rice season?”

And with that pure, innocent question my frustration ebbed and gave way to a small, bittersweet smile. This was what I liked about Jungkook anyway. I chuckled and gave his shoulder a pat. “You only harvest rice in autumn, Kook.”

“Oh…,” he said, clearly puzzling over this. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” I repeated, laughing at his confused face. I gave his chin a little shake before turning toward the hallway. “Follow me. I’ll show you your room,” I said.

I tied my hair up with a sigh, glancing at myself in the mirror. Gone were the fineries Taehyung had loaned me, folded neatly on the edge of my childhood bed. That necklace too was stowed safely in its box. Instead, I stood in my old pastel bedroom in my old work clothes. Old turtleneck and a patterned button-down Dad had given me years ago. Long khaki pants and waterproof boots still covered in dried dirt.

Quietly, I passed Jungkook’s open door and he rushed out to meet me. “Where are you going?” he asked from the doorway, blinking.

I turned to him and begrudged myself a little. I was supposed to be grilling him, beguiling him, seducing him into revealing his weakness. But here I was, dressed like a village auntie about to yank sweet potatoes from the ground.

There was nothing beguiling about me right now.

“Um…I’m gonna go help my Dad,” I said with a smile, glancing out the window at the fields. “He’s too damn stubborn to ask, but I think he needs it.” He crouched in front of the swaying rice, one hand clutching his back.

Without a second word, Jungkook rushed out into the hallway in his ripped jeans and perfect shirt. “I’ll help too,” he said with a smile I had to admit was both genuine and eager.

I laughed. “No,” I said, gently patting his chest with my pink-gloved hand. Aghast at the contrast between his handsome, broad chest and my goofy gloves, I quickly dropped my hand and smiled. “You’ll get your clothes dirty.”

“I don’t care,” he said with a shrug, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. His eyes went warm and tender and I hated the part of me that melted beneath his soft fingertips. “I wanna help.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Honestly, it won’t take long once I get out there. He’s already halfway done with the rice and the root veggies don’t need two people.”

Jungkook pouted and crossed his arms. “But I want to help,” he said.

God, did he know how cute he was when he did that? I composed myself with a smile. “It’s fine-,”

“Let me help you,” he said, raising his brows. “You said your dad was stubborn, but the way I see it you’re worse.”

I stiffened. “I-I’m nothing like my dad!”

He smirked. “Prove it,” he said, eyeing me.

I inhaled slowly and shrugged. What harm could it do really? And besides, maybe showing him this side of my life would endear him to me, make him vulnerable. “Spare clothes are in the dresser,” I said with a shrug, tossing my hand as I wandered out into the living room.

“Yes!” he called, and I heard the sound of rapid footsteps receding down the hall. “I’ll meet you out there!”

As I shut the door behind me, Dad called out from the swaying rice, “Grubs! What’re you doin’ out here?”

I smiled as I turned around, making my way to the sweet potatoes. “Helping!” I responded, giving him a wink as I passed him on the footpath.

Dad’s farm wasn’t too extensive. He harvested just enough to turn a profit, and much of that profit was thanks to Mr. Kim’s cafe. A few fields spread out along the valley, only a mile in any direction at the largest, nestled up against the lilac mountainside. When I was young, I used to hate helping Dad with the harvesting. Felt tedious. But as I grew, I started to feel the charm in it. There’s a certain quality about the work that shuts your mind up.

Maybe that’s why Dad insisted on working dawn until dusk…

“You got a digging fork?” asked Dad, shouting over the thin fences.

I laughed and turned to him, wiggling my tool in the air. “You think I’m new to this?” I asked.

He laughed, a joyful sound, then waved his gloved hand and crouched down once more, returning to the crops. I sighed and crouched down myself, pushing the yellowed vines out of the way to get a proper look at the soil. I heard the back door slide closed and glanced up to see Jungkook standing awkwardly on the patio, glancing around the fields with wide eyes and one hand rubbing the back of his head.

I sighed and waved my digging fork, seizing his attention. “Go help my dad with the rice!” I called.

“No! I’m almost done here. Work on the potatoes!” Dad called in response, half-concealed by the fence and the rice.

I rolled my eyes. “Sounds like a lie!” I responded.

He laughed again, the sound echoing through the expanse of field. “Been working on this harvest for a few days anyhow!”

Instead of fighting, I simply waved my hands, conceding with a sigh as I returned to the vines. “So…?” asked Jungkook, scratching his arm.

I glanced up at him and jerked my head toward the bucket beside him. “Grab one of these!” I called, pointing to my fork before digging the prongs into the soft soil, jimmying it in the hopes of loosening the root.

Before long, Jungkook was crouched beside me. His legs were slightly too long for the pants Dad kept in the spare room, leaving his ankles exposed to the cold. The only other spare gloves we had were neon green, clashing fiercely against the paisley button-down he’d found. He wore a visor over his forehead, shielding his head, but his hair was parted down the middle and I knew he’d get a sunburn on his scalp by afternoon. Even the way he sat on his heels between rows of vines looked awkward, out of place.

But when he turned to me, he wore a smile that stole my breath. The apples of his cheeks were round with the grin, revealing his teeth and the freckle beneath his lip. I’d never noticed, but when he smiled that way a few charming lines appeared by his half-shut eyes. It was a detail that was both endearing and heart wrenching.

Even after confronting the reality that I didn’t know this person, why did it feel in that moment as if I had all along?

“This is cool!” he said with a chuckle, adjusting the brim of his visor. “How do I do it?”

I blinked at him a few times before clearing my throat and inching closer to him. “Find the crown,” I said, pulling a few vines skyward to reveal where they shot into the ground. “Use the digging fork to pry the root out,” I said, nodding at the soil as I patted it slightly.

Jungkook nodded, rolling up his shirt sleeves to the elbows, and furrowed his brow. “Got it,” he said, striking the damp earth with the prongs of his fork until it gave way to his aggression.

I stiffened and grabbed his wrist before he could stab the ground again, eyes wide. “Too rough!” I exclaimed.

Without thinking, I leaned closer to him, resting my shoulder against the side of his chest and guiding his hand back to the ground. Gently, I worked the fork into the soil, both my hands holding his as I pressed into the tool slightly, feeling it sink.

I sighed, relieved, before glancing up to meet Jungkook’s eyes. His cheeks were slightly rosy again, that troubling blush that disarmed me. “You have to be gentle otherwise you’ll damage it,” I said, then stiffened slightly as the words hit me wrong.

He blinked down at me, Adam’s apple bobbing once, before averting his eyes and clearing his throat with a nod. “Alright,” he said, turning back to the vines as I did the same.

The two of us were short on space in that row, squatting side-by-side as we carefully removed sweet potatoes from the ground. One inch to the left and I’d practically be in his arms.

“Is your mom working?” asked Jungkook from beside me.

I jumped a little, lost in thought, and turned to him. His eyes were still cast on the vines, lashes dusting his still-flushed cheeks. “Um…I don’t know.”

“Oh,” said Jungkook, prying a potato out of the dirt with a grunt and setting it aside with the others. “Where is she then?” he asked, finally turning to meet my eyes.

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying to find the words, watching the sun as it caught in the ends of his hair, honey-colored. I shut my mouth and rubbed at an itch on my cheek with my gloved hand. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

He hummed then continued to work. “Didn’t she say where she was going?”

I swallowed hard and smiled the space between my feet. “No,” I said, digging in to the earth once more. “She didn’t say.”

“My mom stayed home with me growing up,” said Jungkook with a nod as he worked diligently. My ears perked. A possible weakness? “I guess she didn’t stay home with Haneul and regretted it a lot.”

“Ah, your brother,” I said, nodding. “She was working?”

“Had to,” he said with a laugh. “With Dad being such a deadbeat, somebody needed to step up.”

Something like guilt crept up my spine. Was this information okay to exploit? “She sounds like a good woman,” I said, quiet. There was an ugly feeling in my chest.

He chuckled. “Seems is the right word,” he said, pointing his fork at me with a playful smirk. “Nothing I did was ever enough. Haneul was always the star, you know?” He sighed with a shrug. “Sometimes I wanted to be praised too.”

“Hm,” I said, not knowing quite how to proceed under the tender autumn sun. “I think that’s universal.”

He glanced at me. “What is?”

“Wanting to be acknowledged,” I said, nodding. “Wanting to be liked.”

Jungkook blinked. “You know how that feels?”

A sad smile came over me as I met his warm eyes. “Mhm,” I said. “Really well, actually.”

He furrowed his brow before sighing and returning to the potatoes. “Sometimes…,” he began, then stopped and cleared his throat.

“What?” I asked, scanning him.

He shook his head and waved his hand. “Forget it. Nothing.”

I inched near him and poised my head in his line of sight, smiling as I craned my neck. His eyes went wide and a flush touched his cheeks. “Tell me?” I asked, watching the color touch his neck. What sort of reaction was this? I reached out and placed a hand atop his knee. “I wanna know!”

He laughed, fanning himself with one hand as he glanced to the side and shook his head. “Jesus,” he exhaled before taking a deep breath and returning his attention to me. “Just…sometimes I wonder if I care about you more than you care about yourself, you know?”

I backed away slightly, stunned, and hinged and unhinged my jaw. “You…,” I began, giving my head a sharp shake before meeting his eyes again. “You care about me?”

His brows raised. “Huh?” he asked before a troubled look overtook his features. “Yeah…,” he said, but that troubled look remained. Like even he was unsettled by his confession.

There was a brief flash of something vulnerable in his eyes, but like a mirage it was gone in a blink.

I collapsed against the couch with a thud as the sun outside began its lazy descent toward the horizon. Jungkook joined me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as the two of us stared off into the middle distance. Dad wasn’t far behind us, laughing as he patted dust off his jeans and threw his dirty gloves on the kitchen counter.

“Tired?” he asked as a plume of fine dust came billowing out from beneath the gloves.

“Dad!” I shouted, whipping around to stare at him. “That’s messy!”

Again, he only laughed and waved a hand, making his way into the kitchen with a smile. “She nag you this much, Jungkook?”

“No, sir,” said Jungkook with a teasing smirk. “In fact, I’m the one who nags her.”

I gave his arm a smack, but quickly remembered my mission and stiffened, turning back to my dad. “If you let the place get cluttered, it’s only gonna make you feel cluttered.”

He nodded as he winced and bent below the stove to grab his shallow pot. “We’re makin’ hotpot,” said Dad as he tossed the thing with a clatter onto the countertop.

I sighed and fell back against the couch, watching the old wooden ceiling. Jungkook smiled and wrapped both arms around my waist. Was it just me or was he getting touchier lately? “I saw someone who reminded me of you the other day,” he said in a low voice, quiet enough for my dad not to hear.

Instinctually, I wanted to cringe away from his touch. But instead I leaned into him and forced a smile. “Hm?”

“She was really pretty,” said Jungkook with a nod.

I turned stern eyes to him and cocked a brow. “You’re looking at other girls now?” I asked, but felt stupid the second the words caught the air. I’d seen him with another girl on his lap…

How stupid of me to once again let myself forget what I was to him.

A means to an end.

He shook his head and pulled me closer, grinning against my hair. “No, baby,” he said, then laughed. “Only the ones who look like you.”

That girl on his lap looked nothing like me…

I turned to him with a smile before breaking free of his grip and wiping my hands on my dirty pants. “I’m gonna go clean myself up and help Dad with dinner. Feel free to rest for a while,” I said before walking quickly into the hallway.

I returned in fresh clothes to my dad standing alone in the kitchen and the sound of water running down the hall. Jungkook must have excused himself to take a shower. I approached from behind and pulled the cutting board from beside the sink, beginning work on the cabbage. As the knife slid through the clean leaves, Dad cleared his throat and I knew there was something he wanted to say.

“That boy…,” began Dad slowly, eyeing me sidelong as he prepped the beef.

I sighed, my slicing motions slowing to a halt. “Yeah?”

He stared at the beef for a moment. He was always like this. He never quite knew how to talk to me about delicate things like boys or puberty or Mom. So, often we were left to simply…live with those delicate things hanging in the air, never properly addressed.

Tonight was different, however.

“He’s a good kid, Y/N,” he said, meeting my eyes almost shyly from beside me.

I blinked at him. “You…you think so?” I asked.

He pursed his lips and continued adding more sauces to the marinade. “You’ve never brought anyone home,” he said with a nod. “I…guess I can understand why.” He laughed a little, but it rang out sad.

I turned to him with wide eyes. “Dad, I’m not ashamed of you,” I said seriously, placing the knife on the table and placing a hand on his forearm.

He turned to me with a smile and nodded. “I know, Grubs,” he said. “Just…this probably isn’t the home you thought you’d be bringing a partner to when you were a kid.”

I stiffened, swallowing hard. “It’s not that,” I said. But he was right. There was something decidedly missing. I shook my head. “I’ve never really dated anyone before. That’s why.”

He chuckled and pinched my cheek before returning to the beef. “You don’t have to explain yourself, kiddo. I gotcha.”

“Dad…,” I started, but I didn’t know where to take the sentence. I didn’t know how to console him without lying. So I simply sighed and began slicing the mushrooms thin. “What makes you say he’s a good kid?”

“Looks at you nice,” he said, smiling. “Like I used to look at your mom.”

My cheeks flushed as I stared out into the living room, my body frozen. He rarely mentioned Mom. I could only blink, holding the knife so tight my knuckles went white. “He…really?” I asked, ashamed at how small and vulnerable my voice sounded.

He hummed in response, like the shift in conversation didn’t bother him at all, and pulled the portable stove from the cabinet beside his hip. “Looks at you like he’s scared.”

“That’s a good thing?” I asked, something heavy and sad settling on my chest.

He laughed lightly, running a clean rag over the stove. “Sure,” he said. “That look means a lotta things, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Like that the idea of losin’ you is just as scary as the idea of keepin’ you close.” He laughed a little before carrying the stove to the dining table with a whistle. “But what do I know, huh?”

Troubled, I stood stunned into stillness before the counter, eyes glazing as a melancholy thought rushed over me. I knew why he wouldn’t want to lose me. I was his in, his mark that he’d been working on for months. I was likely the key to whatever plot he had been working towards for who knows how long.

But…why would being close to me scare him just as much?

“Ah…sorry…,” said a timid voice from the hallway.

I jumped and looked up to see Jungkook lingering halfway hidden behind the wall as he peered out at me, eyes soft. Something briefly passed between us that I couldn’t name, something sort of like embarrassment, like when you see something you shouldn’t have. And in an instant I was certain he’d heard at least part of what my father had said.

What part, I had no idea.

But he swallowed hard and avoided my eyes. “I don’t know where your towels are…,” he said, coughing a little.

Flushed, I nodded and patted Dad’s shoulder as I maneuvered past him. “Are you okay to finish up without me?” I asked.

He scoffed and ruffled my hair. “Think your old man can’t handle hotpot on his own? After raising you on my back?”

I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Right, right,” I said, waving my hand with a laugh. I met Jungkook’s eyes, tension in the air, and offered a tight-lipped smile. “Let me grab one for you.”

“Ah, alright,” he said, following close behind me as I passed him. “Um…,” he said quietly as we padded through the hallway.

Once I’d grabbed a towel from the hallway closet, I paused and turned to glance at him. “Mhm?” I asked.

I handed him the towel which he took without looking. He swallowed hard and stared at something over my head, mouth agape and fidgeting from foot to foot. “I-I…um, your dad…,” he said, cheeks flushed.

I’d never seen him so nervous.

I nodded and pressed slightly closer. “What’s wrong?” I asked, scanning him from below.

He exhaled slowly, shutting his eyes before at long last meeting my eyes again. This time he didn’t look away and his blush only deepened. “Can…um, can you tell him thanks for me?” he asked. “For having me over.”

I raised my brows. “Why can’t you tell him yourself?” I asked.

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t,” he said. “I…I just need you to do it.”

For a moment I thought about it. What could spook him this much? I reached out slowly, brushing his overgrown fringe from his eyes so I could look at him properly. Confounded, I tilted my head to the side and tried to examine his features, but his gaze had begun skittering around once more, never once landing on mine for more than a second.

“Jungkook…,” I began, thinking. “Hey, can’t you look at me?” I wasn’t sure what had emboldened me this way. I’d never been so dominant. But despite myself, I was beginning to grow concerned for Jungkook’s wellbeing.

Had he really been this shocked by what my dad said?

“S-Sorry, I…um, it’s just I’m a little…,” began Jungkook, but still he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

Quickly, I raised my hands to his cheeks and forced him to look at me properly. His brown eyes went wide and his lips parted. “You feel warm,” I said, smoothing my fingers against his hot skin. I sighed. “Was the sun too much?”

Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around my right hand and exhaled slowly, eyes scanning me. “No,” he said quietly, gaze falling to the floor. “Sorry. I just…I overheard what your dad said.”

I stiffened. Had he always been so honest? The irony was almost funny. I sighed as he laced his fingers through mine and dropped my left hand. “Don’t worry about him, Jungkook. He’s just surprised I brought a boy home, that’s all.”

“It’s not that,” he said, then sighed and shook his head, releasing my hand and waving his own. “Forget it,” he said with a breathy laugh. “Thanks for the towel, babe.” He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead before turning and disappearing into the steaming bathroom.

“Drink up, kid! It’s not even that strong!” shouted my dad, slightly inebriated, at the dinner table.

With most of the hotpot eaten and a whole bottle of rice wine consumed between us, Dad was getting more rambunctious. He always got this way, and despite being a robust man his alcohol tolerance was remarkably low. Jungkook on the other hand seemed to be faring just fine. His hair was still damp from the shower, but his cheeks weren’t so red anymore. He still couldn’t look at me for more than a few seconds though…

“I’m really okay, sir,” he said with a chuckle, pushing his cup away.

Dad slammed a palm on the table, causing the rice wine to slosh around, and laughed boisterously. “You gotta stop with the ‘sir’ thing, boy! Makin’ me feel like an old man,” he grumbled, taking another big swig.

Jungkook laughed again and nodded. “What would you rather me call you?” he asked, a playful smile on his lips.

Dad hummed, cracked his knuckles, and gave Jungkook a toothy grin. “Call me Dad!”

“Dad!” I shouted, shocked.

He shook his head and pointed at me. “Not you!”

“Don’t make him uncomfortable!” I scolded, my own voice getting louder.

Dad scowled and rolled his eyes at me. “I’m bein’ welcoming! Don’t make him feel unwelcome!”

I shook my head and furrowed my brow. After our conversation in the field, I worried that perhaps Dad was crossing an irrevocable line. Jungkook’s relationship with his own father didn’t seem so great, and for my own father to play surrogate seemed inappropriate. Especially knowing Jungkook wasn’t with me out of genuine love…

No. It was more than that.

As I glanced at Jungkook, I found myself praying that he wouldn’t remember unpleasant things about his own dad because of what my dad had said.

But instead, I found him smiling warmly, stirring his rice wine gently with his pinkie like my dad had taught him only a half hour earlier. “Dad…,” he repeated with a laugh.

“See?” my dad said, nodding his head vehemently as he gave me the side eye. “He likes it.”

“Is it really okay?” I asked Jungkook, my voice quiet.

He turned to me, smiling, and nodded. “It’s fine.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Jungkook’s phone chimed and he was quick to fish it from his pocket, unlocking it quickly and scanning the words with a frown. Both me and my father noticed the shift in his mood, and I was content to let Jungkook work it out on his own. But it seemed Dad wasn’t quite so benevolent.

Without warning, he stood to his feet and grabbed Jungkook by the crook of his elbow, yanking him roughly from his chair. “C’mon kid, we’re gonna go for a walk,” he said with a drunken nod. “Clear your head!”

“Dad, let him sit,” I groaned, but I knew it was no use. He wouldn’t listen to me just like always.

But as Dad dragged Jungkook away, his phone fell from his hands and clattered to the ground. Jungkook tossed nervous looks over his shoulder, scanning the dining table for his cell phone. Quietly, I inched closer to it and once the two of them were outside, the door sliding shut behind them, I fell to the floor and retrieved it before it locked once more.

To my immense shock, the phone was still unlocked and somehow unbroken. Carefully, I stood to my feet and read through the most recent chain of texts, the one that had likely caused Jungkook’s shift in mood.

Sock Jean: You’re thinking too much.

Sock Jean: She’s just a girl.

Sock Jean: Like any other girl you’ve been with.

Jungkook: You don’t get it, Jin…

Jungkook: She’s different.

Sock Jean: How?

Jungkook: I don’t know. She just is, alright?

Jungkook: I guess…she’s really kind. Like, to a fault. So taking advantage of someone like her…it feels really fucked up.

Jungkook: Her dad is really kind too. They’re really good people.

Sock Jean: No such thing as good people, JK. Just us and them. You gotta look out for yourself first.

Jungkook: Her dad thinks I’m a good guy…

Sock Jean: Then he’s an idiot just like his daughter.

Jungkook: She’s not an idiot, Seokjin.

Sock Jean: Listen, you’ve never had issues like this on any other job. Between how long you’re taking and this new moral crisis, I’m starting to think this one’s too much for you. Maybe we should think of a new approach.

Jungkook: No!

Jungkook: We don’t have to do that. I’ve already spent this much time.

Sock Jean: Is it about the time you’ve spent or is it about Y/N?

Jungkook: Jin…

Jungkook: Forget it. I’m fine. Just felt guilty for a minute. I’ll get past it.

Jungkook: Not like I have feelings for her or anything.

Sock Jean: Who are you trying to convince?

I stared at the chat log and my pulse thrummed in my ears. I understood now why Jungkook couldn’t thank Dad on his own. The guilt had to be eating away at him. I wasn’t certain, but it seemed meeting my dad had had a big impact on Jungkook.

And what’s more, all that talk about having feelings for me…

A blush rose in my cheeks and I shook my head, locking the phone and replacing it just where I’d found it on the floor. Silently, I began collecting bowls and utensils and carrying them to the kitchen to clean. But despite how busy my hands were, my mind was ten times busier.

And my heart raced like it was being chased.

Night had fallen quickly and we’d all went our separate ways for bed. I sat atop my bed in the dark, holding the necklace Vante had given my in my cold hands. The moonlight made its way through my sheer curtains, catching in the ruby pendant. I ran a fingertip over its smooth surface and sighed, unable to rest my body because of my restless mind. I glanced up at the note he’d left in the velvet box.

Don’t think too much of this. Just hold on to it for a little while.

Sometimes having a powerful piece of jewelry makes us feel more powerful ourselves.

I want to give some power to you.

Had I had more power than I thought from the beginning? More than I even realized this morning? If that string of messages was anything to go by, Jungkook was weak to me. For how long, it was impossible to know. But the more I thought, the more evidence I could remember. All day he’d been affected by me, and even before, that night at his apartment…

But what good was this information if I didn’t use it?

Another — probably stupid and reckless — plan hatched in my brain. Quietly I stood to my feet and with one last look at the necklace, I set it aside on my dresser. With a deep breath, I gave my cheeks a bracing slap and nodded my head, turning on my heel and walking out into the chilly hallway.

Just across from my door was Jungkook’s. And inside…

An answer.

Quietly, I gave the thin wooden door a few knocks with my knuckles, hands shaking a little as I waited for an answer with bated breath. Part of me hoped he wouldn’t answer, hoped he was sleeping, hoped I could turn back to my room without knowing if I was right, without risking getting more attached than I was already.

Because I knew if he opened the door, it could never be a clean break.

For either of us.

Slowly, the hinges groaned and the door swung open, revealing a slightly disheveled, tired-eyed Jungkook. He scanned me and gave a pout. “What are you doing?” he asked.

I took a deep breath and remembered that necklace.

My strength.

I met his eyes and offered a smile. “I…guess I missed you,” I said.

His cheeks went pink once more and he laughed breathlessly. “Ah, um…I missed you too,” he said, eyes flitting over my face.

I glanced behind him at the dark room, the messy sheets. He’d been sleeping, hadn’t he? “Can I come in?” I asked, meeting his eyes again.

He stiffened. “Sure,” he said, leading the way into the bedroom.

I followed, but guilt gnawed at my stomach as he shut the door and I crawled beneath the covers. Without a word, he joined me, laying a respectable distance away from me. But in opening the door, he’d opened Pandora’s Box as well. I had something to confirm.

I wiggled closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting my head on his chest. I heard his heart thump quickly, a rapid cadence. It wasn’t an unfamiliar position, but lately there was a bashfulness between us that had never been there. Like we were just starting out again, but this time in earnest.

“You heard my dad talking…,” I said, thinking aloud.

Jungkook nodded, his fingers resting against the skin of my upper arm. “Yeah. It wasn’t intentional, but…,” he began, then sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said quietly, tracing shapes onto his firm chest.

“He…he mentioned your mom,” he said, clearly hedging. “How he used to look at her….” He paused and shook his head. “I-I shouldn’t ask about that.” He really shouldn’t…for a lot of reasons…

I nodded and pulled myself closer, flush against his side. “I never really explained it, did I?”

“Don’t,” he said, then paused, as if realizing what he said was strange.

I knew now what the kink in his armor was.

And I knew how to exploit it.

“I want to,” I said, then braced myself for what I was about to say next. “I trust you,” I said, low enough to keep my voice from shaking.

I felt him stiffen beneath me and simply stayed still. “I…,” he began, voice trailing into an exhale.

“When I was young, she was always around. Helping Dad with the crops, driving me around,” I said, then chuckled. I glanced around the dark room. “It’s weird to be here when there’s…nothing left of her.”

“Did she…?”

I shook my head. “She didn’t die, if that’s what you mean,” I said with a soft smile, laying my hand flat on his chest to feel his thumping heart beneath my fingertips. “She…she left.”

“What?” asked Jungkook, and I didn’t have to look to know his expression was animated with shock.

I chuckled. “It’s not so bad,” I said with a sigh. “Looking back, I don’t think this kind of life was enough for her anyway.” I stretched my legs a little, pressing my cold feet against his. “She was...cultured. When I was young, she used to take me to art museums in Seoul to look at the pieces. I was so mesmerized by it all, that even I started to...well, started to wonder if life out here was all there was.”

“How old were you?” he asked softly, gently running his fingers up and down my arm, like he was trying to comfort me.

“Around nine,” I said with a nod. The sadness I tried to keep at bay was beginning to surface, and I forced myself not to fight it. “I think…that’s why I’m like this.”

“Like what?” asked Jungkook, craning his neck to look at me.

“So desperate for people to like me,” I said, thinking of the right words. “So scared of being thrown away.”

Jungkook went rigid beside me and his grip on my arm tightened slightly. “Is that why you try so hard to do things for people?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “Never really analyzed it myself. But…if I had to hazard a guess I’d say yeah.”

“Your mom…to leave you behind, she must have been a moron,” he said.

I felt my cheeks warm at his words and buried my head in the crook of his shoulder, sighing. “Don’t say that.”

“Huh?”

“She was always so smart,” I said, thinking back. “When she left, she wrote me a note. No longer than a postcard. She said she was going to Seoul to pursue her dreams.”

“Is that…is that why you moved?” he asked.

I was quiet. This level of honesty was jarring. I didn’t know exactly how to maneuver within this vulnerable space. But for Vante’s sake…and for my own, I knew I had to do it.

Even if it wracked me with guilt.

“She always wanted to be an art curator. Even went to school for it. I hoped I could work hard and eventually find her when I’m successful and important. Like…cosmic revenge or something,” I said, laughing. “I’ve always liked art, but I wonder about it too. Would I have worked so hard to go to college if it weren’t for her trying to work in the same industry?” I shrugged. “I guess these sorts of things don’t have answers.”

“I…Y/N, I’m sorry,” he said softly, the moonlight making his skin glow silver.

I turned to meet his eyes. “What for?”

He shook his head and instead of responding, simply leaned close to me, guiding me to lay on my back as he hovered over me. Gently, he pressed closer, eyes shutting. On instinct, I shut my eyes too. But not before catching the dull red hue to his cheeks that I was beginning to become accustomed to. I waited for only half a second before he pressed his soft lips against mine. And like that, the tension between us finally snapped.

And it was…different than usual.

There was a tenderness to his movements, something warm and unhurried. He kissed me slowly, featherlight at first, and I felt like he was kissing me for the first time. He was almost shy, still passionate but somehow subdued like he didn’t want to do anything wrong. He pulled back only to tilt his head to the side and kiss me once more. There was no urgency, no desperation. Just warmth as his body pressed close to mine, one hand on my cheek angling my face toward his.

He pulled away once more but lingered close for a moment. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found his open as well. His brows were knitted, something like worry etched into his delicate features, and his eyes were heavy with an emotion I couldn’t name, warm as they moved slowly over my face.

And I knew in that expression alone that I was right.

The weakness in his impenetrable armor…was me.