wonwoosmagnetic

[wonwoosmagnetic]

No Saints Here | kmg

warning: light making out, showing of gun (not actual using)

Pairing : bodyguard!mingyu x rich!reader

Genre : angst, romance, mystery

synopsis :

Some secrets are meant to stay buried. Some love stories were never meant to begin.

Evangeline Perez thought she buried the past along with her sister. But when whispers of the truth resurface, she finds herself tangled in a web of secrets, power, and deception—one that could cost her everything.

Mingyu is a complication she never asked for. Cold, relentless, and far too protective, he’s determined to keep her from chasing ghosts. But Eva has never been one to obey orders, and the deeper she digs, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension pulling them together.

Because some things refuse to stay in the dark.

And some hearts are doomed from the start.

CHAPTER TWO

The door barely clicked shut before you pulled Elias toward you, your fingers tangling in his shirt as you pressed your lips to his. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just heat, just movement.

Elias responded instantly, his hands sliding down your waist, pulling your flush against him. The kiss was urgent, all hands and hunger, your fingers tugging at his collar while his palms roamed the curves of your body.

You both stumbled backward, knocking into a table, but neither of you cared. The city lights filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room, but everything beyond this moment felt distant, irrelevant.

Elias’s grip tightened, his lips trailing down the line of your jaw, your neck. You let your head tilt back slightly, your breath coming out in soft, shallow exhales. It didn’t matter that you barely knew him. It didn’t matter what came next. 

Your breath came fast and shallow, your skin still burning where Elias had touched you. The tension between them had been electric—until it was shattered by the sound of a gun being cocked.

Mingyu stood in the doorway, gun raised, eyes locked on Elias. His expression was unreadable, but the energy in the room shifted in an instant. Elias stiffened beside you, hands lifting slightly in a universal sign of surrender.

You felt your stomach plummet.

“Mingyu—” you started, but he didn’t even look at you.

“Step away from her.”

His voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that came before a storm.

Elias hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second. His gaze flickered between you and Mingyu, something calculating flashing behind his eyes. “She’s here of her own will.”

Mingyu’s jaw flexed. “She doesn’t belong here.”

You found your voice, your rage slicing through the suffocating tension. “You don’t get to decide where I belong.”

Mingyu’s eyes flicked to you then, dark and unreadable. “Neither does he.”

You clenched your fists. “You think you do?”

There was a pause. A beat too long. Then, slowly, deliberately, Mingyu lowered his gun.

“Your father sent me.”

The words landed like a blow. For a moment, everything in you froze.

Then you laughed. It was sharp, bitter, with no real humor behind it. “Of course he did.”

Elias exhaled sharply beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what kind of mess this is, but I’m not getting involved.” His voice was light, but there was something else there now—a hint of wariness, maybe even wit. He looked at Eva then, searching your face for something. “Are you sure you want to go with him?”

You hesitated. For the first time, you weren't sure.

Mingyu’s presence had always felt suffocating. Overbearing. But it also carried a kind of certainty you had never been afforded. And that terrified you.

You squared your shoulders, tilting your chin up. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened. Something in his jaw ticked, but he didn’t argue.

Elias studied you for another long second, then sighed, shaking his head. 

Mingyu extended a hand. You ignored it as you stepped past him, the weight of inevitability settling heavy on your shoulders.

---

Once you both were alone in the car, the silence was suffocating. The city lights blurred past them, but your mind was stuck on the moment Mingyu had barged in, gun in hand, shattering her night like glass.

You turned to him, fury bubbling up, your voice sharp as a blade. “You had no right!”

Mingyu, hands steady on the wheel, didn’t even flinch. “I had every right.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, really? Bursting into someone’s apartment with a gun? Dragging me out like I’m some reckless child? Enlighten me, Mingyu, how exactly do you justify that?”

His jaw tightened. “I had orders.”

You scoffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Yeah, well, fuck your orders.”

Mingyu exhaled sharply through his nose. “Eva, you don’t get it.”

“Oh, trust me, I do,” you shot back. “My father snaps his fingers, and you come running, guns blazing, like some attack dog.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles going white. “That’s not what this is.”

You turned fully to him now, glaring. “Then what is it? Because from where I’m sitting, it sure as hell feels like control. Like I have no goddamn say in my own life.”

Mingyu stayed silent for a long moment, eyes fixed on the road. Then, finally, he muttered, “It’s for your protection.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Protection from what, Mingyu? A random guy I was making out with? What exactly was the threat?”

His jaw clenched. “Save your anger for house, Evangeline."

You scoffed, turning to fully glare at him. "Oh, so now I’m Evangeline? You only use my full name when you're trying to make a point. Spit it out, Mingyu. What exactly am I supposed to be so mad about?"

Mingyu didn't answer immediately. He kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable, but the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel betrayed his frustration.

You leaned closer, your voice sharp. "What aren’t you telling me?"

Mingyu exhaled through his nose, like he was bracing himself. “Elias Park isn’t just some random guy you were making out with, Eva.”

You frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Mingyu finally looked at you, his gaze dark and serious. “It means you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. You hated this. The secrecy. The half-truths. The way Mingyu always acted like he was carrying some terrible weight you weren't allowed to see.

You crossed your arms. “Then tell me. Who is he, really?”

Mingyu hesitated for a split second—just long enough for you to catch it—before turning back to the road. “Someone you need to stay the hell away from.”

Your blood ran cold. Not because of the warning itself, but because of the way Mingyu said it. Like it wasn’t just a suggestion. Like it was an order.

---

You stood in the doorway, your heart hammering as the weight of everyone's stares bore down on you. The room was eerily silent for a second—before your father’s voice exploded through the air.

“What were you thinking?!”

His face was flushed with anger, his hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white.

You swallowed hard and looked down, biting your lip. There was no point in answering—not when his mind was already made up.

Seungcheol stood off to the side, arms crossed, his face unreadable, but the tension in his jaw told you everything. Nichika, you father’s wife, was lounging on the couch, her glass of wine swirling in her hand, watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement.

Your father took a step closer, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “You snuck out of the event, got caught, and with Elias Park of all people? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’ve just caused?”

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. Trouble? What trouble? Because you had been kissing someone? Or because you had been seen?

“I wasn’t—” you started, but your father slammed his palm onto the table, the sound making you flinch.

“Do not lie to me, Evangeline.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, the frustration bubbling in your chest close to boiling over. “I’m not lying,” you shot back, yourself voice sharp. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

Your father exhaled harshly. “You don’t understand what’s at stake here.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “No. I don’t. Because no one tells me anything. You just expect me to sit here and obey while you—”

“You don’t need to know everything,” Seungcheol cut in, his voice calm but firm. “You just need to listen.”

You turned to him, searching for even a flicker of understanding in his eyes. But there was nothing—just the same quiet authority, the same frustrating distance he always kept.

“That’s bullshit,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“Enough.” Your father’s voice was final, his patience wearing thin. “Go to your room. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

Your jaw clenched. Of course. Tomorrow. Like that conversation would ever happen. Like it hadn’t always been this way.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed up the stairs, your pulse pounding in her ears.

But one thing was clear—

They were hiding something from you.

And you were going to find out what.

------------

The morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains, painting long streaks of gold across the room. You lay still, eyes half-lidded, staring at the ceiling as the echoes of last night’s disaster settled deep in your bones.

Then—bang, bang, bang.

The door burst open before she could respond.

“Get up.” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, filled with barely concealed irritation.

You groaned, pressing a pillow over your face. “Fuck off.”

“Not happening.” His footsteps were heavy as he stepped inside. “You’ve got five minutes before Father drags you out himself. And if you thought last night was bad, wait until you see how pissed he is this morning.”

You let out a slow breath, rubbing your temples. “I don’t see why you care.”

Seungcheol let out a short, humorless laugh. “You really don’t, do you?” His tone was ice, sharp enough to cut. “You think you can just go around acting like nothing matters? Like there aren’t consequences?”

You sat up, your head throbbing. “Oh, spare me the lecture, Seungcheol.” Your voice was hoarse, exhausted. “What’s the worst that could happen? Huh? Father yells at me? He already did that. Nichika looks at me like I’m a fucking disgrace? Been there, done that. So what, Seungcheol? What exactly am I supposed to be scared of?”

His jaw tensed. “You should be scared of what happens when Father decides you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

Silence.

Seungcheol didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He just stared at her, something dark and unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him.

"Little Shit."

--

The breakfast table was tense, the air thick with unspoken words.

You sat across from your father, your hands resting idly in your lap. The quiet clinking of silverware was the only sound in the room as Nichika delicately stirred her tea, her watchful eyes flicking between them with veiled amusement.

Your father finally set his cup down with a measured clink. “You will stay away from Elias Park.”

You exhaled slowly, setting your fork down. You didn’t look up. “Why?”

His voice remained steady, firm. “Because I said so.”

A small, humorless smile tugged at your lips. “That’s not a reason.”

His gaze hardened. “It’s the only reason you need.”

You let out a quiet scoff, shaking your head. "You can’t control everything I do.”

Your father leaned back slightly, considering you. “You’d be surprised.”

You met his gaze then, eyes cold. You could feel Nichika’s amusement from across the table, like this was some kind of game to her.

You swallowed the sharp words threatening to spill out. Instead, You simply pushed your chair back and stood, your appetite gone. No one stopped you as you turned and left, though you could feel their eyes on you the entire way out.

------

Your voice was rushed as you pressed your phone to your ear, pacing your bedroom. “Elias, I know that was bad, but please—”

Elias cut her off, his tone sharp. “Bad? Eva, your guy put a gun in my face.”

You winced, closing your eyes. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry—”

“Sorry doesn’t really fix that, does it?” he snapped. There was a pause, his breathing uneven.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your dresser. “It’s complicated. I need to talk to you though, even though I know you were fucking with me.”

A dry, humorless laugh came through the speaker. “No shit.”

You bit your lip, willing herself to stay calm. “Elias, I didn’t want this to happen. I just—fine. I want to talk about something. It is about my family.”

He was silent for a long moment, and for the first time, you were genuinely afraid of his answer.

Elias sighed on the other end of the line, the tension in his silence heavier than words.

You gripped your phone tighter, your voice barely above a whisper. “Elias, please.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving you gripping your phone, your heart pounding just a little too hard.

You exhaled slowly, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your mind was made up. You couldn’t keep living under their control, pretending you were fine with all of this.

--

Caro barely had time to process before you stormed into the room, your voice sharp with frustration.

“Caro! Can you fucking believe them?” You exclaimed, throwing your bag onto the couch. Your whole body radiated anger, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

Caro blinked, looking up from her phone. “Uh… them, as in?”

You let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. “My father. My brother. The whole damn house acting like I’m some fucking prisoner they can just order around!”

Caro sighed, setting her phone down. “What happened now?”

You ran a hand through your hair, pacing. “They lost their minds because I was with Elias. Like, full-on interrogation, yelling, threats, the whole fucking thing.”

Caro winced. “Shit.”

“Yeah. And guess what? I’m still meeting him,” you said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I don’t care what they say. I can’t live like this, Caro. I won’t.”

You paced the room, your movements sharp, restless. Your frustration was palpable, crackling in the air between them.

“If I stop now, then when?” you snapped, running a hand through your hair. “Next thing I know, I’ll be locked away like fucking Rapunzel—trapped, controlled, waiting for permission to breathe.”

Caro watched you carefully, arms crossed. She knew you had a point—your family wasn’t just strict, they were ruthless. Defying them wasn’t just rebellious. It was dangerous.

“You know this isn’t just about rules,” Caro said cautiously. “Your family—they don’t just make threats. They follow through.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, trust me, I know.”

Caro hesitated, then sighed. “So what now? What’s your grand plan?”

You finally stopped pacing, turning to face her, fire burning in your eyes. “I go. I meet Elias. And I don’t look back.”

Caro crossed her arms, watching Eva carefully. "So let me get this straight—you’re just going to Elias willingly knowing he is trouble?"

You met her gaze without hesitation. "Yes. If they won’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll figure it out myself."

Caro let out a slow breath. "That’s a dangerous game, Eva."

You scoffed. "So is letting them keep controlling me. I need to know the truth."

---

[wonwoosmagnetic]

No Saints Here | kmg

Pairing : bodyguard!mingyu x rich!reader

Genre : angst, romance, mystery

synopsis :

Some secrets are meant to stay buried. Some love stories were never meant to begin.

Evangeline Perez thought she buried the past along with her sister. But when whispers of the truth resurface, she finds herself tangled in a web of secrets, power, and deception—one that could cost her everything.

Mingyu is a complication she never asked for. Cold, relentless, and far too protective, he’s determined to keep her from chasing ghosts. But Eva has never been one to obey orders, and the deeper she digs, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension pulling them together.

Because some things refuse to stay in the dark.

And some hearts are doomed from the start.

CHAPTER ONE

You had spent your entire life performing.

The daughter of Rafael Perez didn’t get the luxury of being anything else. Every movement, every carefully measured smile, every moment of silence in a room like this—it all meant something. Tonight was no different.

The ballroom glittered under chandeliers, the golden light reflecting off silk gowns and polished shoes. Laughter drifted through the air, mingling with the clinking of glasses, but beneath the practiced pleasantries lay a current of power. Deals were being made, alliances solidified, and Eva, as always, was a pawn on the board.

You lifted a champagne flute to your lips, though she barely took a sip. The bubbles fizzed against your skin, but you weren't drinking. You never drank at these events. Staying sharp was a necessity, not a choice.

--

You sat on your bed, eyes fixed on the blank canvas before you. The brushes, untouched and coated in dust, sat idle on the windowsill. You used to be able to lose yourself in the colors, the strokes, the world you created. But now? Now, it all felt hollow, a reminder of the life you were supposed to want, but couldn’t seem to care about.

Every day felt like you were moving through a fog, playing a part in a show you didn’t audition for. The more the days passed, the more you felt lost. A knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts, and before you could even respond, the door creaked open. Rafael Perez, your father, stepped inside with that cold, calculated look he always wore.

His presence was like an impenetrable wall, looming over your every move. “I see the canvas is still here.” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, but there was a clear disappointment in his words.

Your jaw tightened, but you didn’t respond immediately. He’d been saying the same thing for months, as though avoiding painting would somehow fix everything in your life. You stood, brushing your hands together, as though trying to dust off your frustration.

“I told you, I’m not interested in your... ‘vision’ for me, Dad,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral, but there was a sharpness to it you couldn’t quite hide. Your father didn’t react to the anger in your voice, like he didn’t even hear it.

He just stepped further into the room, his gaze never leaving yours, and approached the canvas with that same critical look. “You’re wasting your time, Evangeline. You’re wasting your potential. You have a responsibility to the family, to the company, to everything we’ve built.”

You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. “What about what I want? Does that even matter?” His eyes flickered to you briefly, the hint of irritation flashing in them, but he quickly masked it. “What you want doesn’t matter. What matters is what needs to be done.” He paused for a beat before adding, “I’ve arranged for you to attend an event tonight. Mingyu will be there to make sure you’re... presentable.”

The mention of Mingyu made your stomach twist. You'd almost forgotten about him—almost. That damn bodyguard was always around, like a shadow, looming over your every move. He wasn’t just your father’s watchful eye; he was the constant reminder that you weren't in control of your own life.

Your eyes narrowed. “Mingyu,” you muttered, trying not to let the frustration creep into your voice. “What a surprise.” Rafael turned toward the door, as if the conversation was over, but not before adding, “You should be grateful he’s here. He’s only doing his job. I trust you’ll behave.” Your teeth ground together.

“I’m always behaving, Dad,” you spat, sarcasm dripping from the words. Your father didn’t flinch. “I’ll see you later.” He gave you one last look, this time more piercing, before he left, the door closing behind him with a soft thud. You stood still for a moment, staring at the door, your chest tightening with frustration.

You could hear his footsteps fading down the hallway, but the suffocating feeling remained, heavy in the air. You hated how his presence seemed to fill every corner of your life, like you were never allowed to breathe without someone watching.

And Mingyu? He was just the physical embodiment of everything your father represented. The rules. The control. The expectations. You let out a shaky breath and glanced over at the window, the bright sunlight streaming in, but it felt like the room was closing in on her.

Every day felt the same—tethered to your father’s demands, suffocated by the people he surrounded you with, and watched over by Mingyu.

--

You tossed your phone onto the couch, frustration building in your chest. Another message from your dad about the upcoming event—the usual “you need to look perfect” reminder. You sighed deeply, your fingers dragging through your hair as you sat down beside Caro, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor flipping through a fashion magazine.

The two of you had spent the entire afternoon together, but your mind was miles away. “I hate these events,” you muttered, glancing down at your phone. “Everything’s always so perfect and expected. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Caro stayed silent, a soft smile playing on her lips as she nodded. She was used to your rants, always ready to listen even though Caro’s own thoughts were a little more complicated when it came to these events. She didn’t have to attend them. She was always on the outside looking in.

You, completely oblivious to the weight of Caro’s thoughts, looked up, her eyes bright with determination. “I need your help. I have to look perfect tonight.” Caro blinked, not sure what to expect. “What do you mean?” Her voice was soft, but she couldn’t quite hide the curiosity.

You tossed her phone aside again and turned to Caro, her eyes lighting up. “I need a dress. Not just any dress—something that'll make a statement, you know? Something that says, ‘I’m here, and I’m not going to play by anyone’s rules’.” Caro’s heart skipped, the awkwardness creeping in as soon as she realized what this was about. She shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor.

She knew the drill—Your extravagant events, the expectations, the people. It wasn’t her world. She didn’t belong there. “I—I don’t know if I’m the right person to help with that,” Caro muttered, her voice faltering slightly.

She fiddled with the corner of the magazine, a nervous tick she always had when she was uncomfortable. You, however, didn’t seem to notice. She was already on a roll, thinking about all the details. “But you know fashion better than anyone, Caro. Please, just help me pick something out. I trust you. You always know how to make me look amazing.” Caro didn’t answer immediately.

She just nodded, forcing a small smile, even though the thought of stepping into that world made her feel out of place. She was just the friend—the one who didn't belong to the circle of high society, the one who had to watch it all from the sidelines.

Your excitement seemed to fill the room, making Caro’s discomfort that much more pronounced. You weren't just talking about a dress; you were talking about fitting in with your father’s world, about being the perfect image for all the people who would be watching. And Caro wasn’t even invited to those events.

When you suddenly brightened, your smile widening, Caro’s stomach twisted. “Oh! And you can come as my plus one. I mean, you’ve got nothing to do tonight, right?” Caro’s throat tightened. She stayed silent for a long moment, biting her lip as the awkwardness settled over her like a heavy blanket.

You were expecting her to say yes, but all Caro could think about was how out of place she’d feel surrounded by people who had everything she didn’t.  She forced herself to nod, her voice barely above a whisper. “I... yeah, I guess I can come. If you want me to.”

Your face lit up at her agreement. “Of course, I do! You’re my best friend. You’re going to help me pick out the perfect dress, and then we’ll go together. It’ll be so much fun.” Caro smiled weakly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

She didn’t want to be the one to burst your bubble, but it was hard not to feel like a pawn in this whole thing. You had no idea how different their worlds were. No idea how uncomfortable it made Caro to be asked to be her “sidekick” in a world that would never accept her.

Instead of speaking up, Caro just nodded again, still feeling out of place. “Sounds fun,” she said quietly, her voice almost sounding distant. You, completely oblivious, bounced up from the couch, heading toward the door.

“Let’s go! We’ve got to find that dress, and then I’ll text Mingyu and tell him I’m all ready to go.” And as you dragged her out the door, Caro couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was going to be another reminder of just how different they truly were.

--

The venue was dazzling—golden chandeliers casting a warm glow over the sea of elegantly dressed guests. Laughter and the soft clinking of glasses filled the space, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and champagne.

Everywhere Caro looked, people moved effortlessly, slipping in and out of conversations like they belonged to some secret world she could never quite step into.

You, on the other hand, fit right in. The moment they arrived, you were swept up in a flurry of greetings—soft cheek kisses, perfectly rehearsed compliments, and warm, effortless smiles exchanged between people who had known each other since childhood.

You shined in the dress Caro helped you pick, a sleek midnight blue gown that hugged your form just right. Confidence radiated off you as she laughed, gesturing animatedly while talking to a group of perfectly put-together people.

Caro, however, stood off to the side, her fingers wrapped tightly around the stem of her untouched champagne glass. She shifted on her heels, her dress—borrowed from your closet—feeling a little too tight, a little too foreign.

The conversation around her moved like a fast-flowing river, and she was just a rock stuck on the bank, watching it all pass her by. You had promised they’d stick together, but within minutes, she was off mingling, seamlessly blending into the crowd.

Caro swallowed, her gaze flickering over the room. There was no one here she knew, no one who would even think to talk to her. And maybe that was the point—she wasn’t supposed to be here. She was just the friend. The outsider.

Caro swallowed, her gaze flickering over the room. There was no one here she knew, no one who would even think to talk to her. And maybe that was the point—she wasn’t supposed to be here. She was just the friend. The outsider.

"You know you have to say no to her someday, right?" The deep, measured voice made her flinch. She turned to find Seungcheol Perez- your brother, standing beside her, a crystal glass of whiskey in one hand.

His dark brown eyes, always sharp and unreadable, carried a hint of amusement as he glanced toward Eva, who was across the room, laughing with a group of perfectly polished socialites. Caro sighed. "Oh, is this where you deliver another one of your grand lectures?" He smirked, tilting his glass slightly.

"Not a lecture. Just an observation." He took a slow sip. "She drags you into this world like you belong here. But we both know you don’t." Caro scoffed, arms crossing over her chest. "Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence." He chuckled lightly.

"I’m just saying, you let her pull you around like a shadow." There was teasing in his voice, but something else, too. Something heavier. "She’s my best friend," Caro muttered, glancing at you again. Seungcheol nodded. "I know."

His voice softened, just slightly. Then, after a pause, "But you don’t always have to say yes just because she asks." Caro hesitated, shifting on her feet. "Why do you even care?" He tilted his head slightly, considering her. "Maybe I don’t. Maybe I just enjoy watching you squirm." Caro huffed out a quiet laugh despite herself.

"You are the absolute worst."

"Mm." He smirked again. "And yet, here you are, still talking to me." She rolled her eyes, but the warmth between them was unmistakable. Seungcheol may have been blunt, but he wasn’t cruel. And despite everything, she knew he was right—you never saw how hard it was for her to be in this world. But Seungcheol did.

And for the first time that night, standing beside him, Caro didn’t feel so alone. “Come here to steal my best friend as well?” Your voice cut through the air, her words dripping with barely-contained irritation as she approached them. There was no warmth in her tone, only an edge of frustration. Her eyes narrowed as they settled on Seungcheol.

He didn’t react, his expression calm as always, though there was an underlying tension that was hard to ignore. He took a casual sip from his drink, his gaze steady on you as he replied, "I’m not stealing anyone, Evangeline. Just having a conversation." Your lips tightened into a thin line. You didn’t miss a beat.

"You should know better than to waste your time," you said coldly, your voice flat, like she was talking to a subordinate. “If you’re not here to work, I don’t know what you’re doing.” There was no affection in your words—just the distant, sharp edge of someone who had long ago put up walls. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “I’m not here to waste anyone’s time,” he replied, his tone smooth, his posture professional.

Your gaze shifted to Caro for a split second, “you really think I need you to babysit her too?” Seungcheol glanced briefly at Caro, whose awkwardness was palpable, before responding in a level voice. "I’m not babysitting her, Evangeline. We’re just talking." You took a step closer, your heels clicking against the floor in a purposeful way. “It’s not your job to talk to her,” you said with a brittle smile, now aiming your words directly at him.

“So why don’t you go find something else to do?” Caro felt herself shrink a little, the tension in the air thickening with every word. She wasn’t sure what had caused the rift between them, but it was clear that whatever it was, it was deep—and it wasn’t about her. Seungcheol didn't flinch.

He met her sharp gaze with the same unflinching calm. "You really don’t need to control everything, Evangeline." Your eyes flashed for a moment, your jaw clenching as your fingers curled slightly around your drink. “And you don’t need to lecture me," you snapped back, your voice low but cutting.

“You’re not in charge here. Stay out of it.” There was a moment of silence before Seungcheol sighed, as if he was tired of this back-and-forth, but he didn't show it. "Fine," he said simply, his voice calm as always. "Enjoy your night." He says raising the glass in Caro's direction as he leaves. Caro watched as Seungcheol disappeared into the crowd, and for a moment, she felt an ache in her chest.

But before she could linger on it, your voice broke through. "I don’t know why he has to make such a scene everywhere he goes." Caro didn’t even look up at you. Instead, she took a slow sip from her drink, trying to steady the chaos in her mind.

"It’s not a scene," she replied quietly. Caro let out a soft breath, glancing over at you, who was clearly still fuming. She could feel the weight of the conversation, but at this point, she wasn’t going to let it ruin her night. Not when you had gone out of her way to make sure they were having fun tonight.

“We don’t like him, Caro. He’s is an asshole,” You said again, her voice steady, but there was a sharpness in it that made it clear you weren't backing down. Caro nodded, her eyes scanning the crowd for a moment, avoiding the topic. She wasn’t sure what else to say. “Yeah, of course. I was just—” “There is no ‘just,’ Caro. He is a fuck up, and I won’t let him ruin our night,” You cut in, more serious now, your expression set. Caro turned back to you, her voice a little quieter as she sighed. “Yeah, yeah obviously.”

There wasn’t much else she could add. She knew you were just looking out for her, but sometimes it felt like everyone had an opinion on Seungcheol. He was complicated, yes—hard to deal with, yes—but he was her friend, and that made things harder. She didn’t want to argue with you about it. Not now. Not tonight.

Caro let the music wash over her, the bass thudding beneath her feet as she tried to shake off the lingering tension. You, on the other hand, had already moved on, flagging down a server to order another round. “You need to stop letting him get under your skin,” Caro said, forcing a smile as she leaned against the bar beside her best friend. You scoffed, picking up your drink.

“I don’t. He’s just always in the way.” You tossed back a sip, your nails drumming against the glass. “It’s pathetic, honestly. He acts like he’s some kind of protector.” Caro hesitated, glancing down at her own drink. “Maybe he’s just—” “Don’t,” You cut in, her voice firm. “You don’t owe him the benefit of the doubt, Caro. Not him.”

Caro swallowed back her words. There was something unshakable in your voice, something that made arguing feel pointless. Maybe you were right. Maybe Seungcheol wasn’t worth defending. But if that were true, why did Caro feel the way she did? Before she could think too much about it, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Ladies.” Caro turned, blinking as she took in the man who had appeared beside them. Sleek suit, charming smirk, an air of confidence that was just a little too polished. Elias Park. Your posture relaxed instantly, a slow smile curling at your lips. “Elias,” you greeted, tilting your head in interest.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” “I could say the same,” he replied smoothly, his dark eyes flicking over to Caro for a second before returning to you. “But then again, you do have a habit of making any place worth being at.” You let out a quiet laugh, clearly enjoying the attention. Caro, however, just gave a small, polite smile before turning back to her drink.

Elias leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.” You raised a brow, intrigued. “Oh?” “Yeah.” His eyes gleamed under the dim lighting. “There’s something I think you’d be very interested in.” Caro barely heard the rest of the conversation.

Her mind was elsewhere, her thoughts drifting back to Seungcheol. Something about the way he left—unbothered on the surface, but carrying something heavier underneath—stuck with her. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over.