Hongjoong Being Jealous Of The Other Members Being Talking To Reader Especially Yunho At The End Who

🐟 k - kids by current joys

🐟 o - odd reasons by donovan melero

🐟 i - it’s you by ateez

I can’t recommend much music, but hey it’s something

MOOT / TAG GAME !

mission— spell your real name / name you use on tumblr with songs you like >< ready, set, go !

m — my love, mine all mine (mitski)

i — i love you, i’m sorry (gracie abrams)

c — coraline (lyn lapid)

k — killshot (magdalena bay)

i — i know you (faye webster)

e — either way (ive)

tagging— @puma-riki @flwrstqr @liwinly @woniefication @lilificationn @stvrriki @okwonyo + anyone else who wants to join !

wow, a chapter where reader’s life isn’t going horrible. This is going great, but we still gotta kill mike that man is public enemy #1 I don’t care how he can blow up in space or die to a snail touching and i’ll be happy.

amazing chapter, excited to see what comes next <3

Popular, Boy

☆12: The first warning.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, smut, angst, slow burn, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 10k

Summary: Stepping back to your world and reclaiming your place with confidence and Hongjoong by your side, feeling that everything is better.

But some loyalties are bound by fear rather than choice.

Warnings: Cursing, manipulation, power dynamics, fluff.

Series masterlist Join the Taglist

☆11 ☆13: The first bliss. Coming soon

The sharp click of your heels echoes through the quiet hallway as you make your way toward your father’s office. The Clarke mansion is always pristine, always silent in places where it shouldn’t be.

It’s suffocating.

You pause outside the heavy wooden door, exhaling before knocking twice.

“Come in.”

You push the door open, stepping inside. Your father is at his desk, flipping through documents, while your mother sits on one of the velvet chairs across from him, sipping tea as if she has no real business here.

Both of them glance up at you, but it’s your mother who smiles first.

“Well, this is a surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure, darling?”

Your father doesn’t say anything. He just watches, waiting. You clear your throat, keeping your tone even.

“I need a favor.”

Your mother’s eyes gleam with interest “A favor? That’s rare.” She sets her teacup down gently. “What is it?”

You don’t hesitate “It’s about Hongjoong.”

At that, your father raises a brow, finally giving you his full attention. Your mother, on the other hand, practically lights up.

“Oh, Hongjoong! I was beginning to think you weren’t talking to him anymore after—” She pauses, tilting her head, eyes sharp. “After that day.”

You knew this was coming. Of course she’d ask.Your fingers tighten slightly at your sides, but your voice remains composed.

“It was a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine between us now.”

Your mother hums in approval, looking far too pleased. “I knew you wouldn’t throw away something special over a little argument.”

Your father clears his throat, his tone clipped “If this is about that boy, get to the point.”

You nod “It’s not about him, exactly. It’s about his father.”

Both your parents exchange a glance.

You continue, “His father lost his job recently, and their family is struggling. I wanted to know if you could offer him something here. A driver, security—anything.”

Your mother leans back slightly, considering. “His father lost his job?” A small frown tugs at her lips, but it isn’t one of disapproval—it’s concern. “That’s terrible.”

Your father leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “What does he do?”

“He was a chauffeur,” You answer. “For a private company, but they let him go.”

Your father exhales, glancing down at the papers on his desk as if debating whether this conversation is worth his time.

“A driver, huh?”

Your mother places a hand on his arm, smiling “Well, we do need another personal driver, don’t we?”

Your father gives her a pointed look, but you know him. He isn’t against the idea—he’s just pretending to be.

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing,” The woman continues, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle on her dress. “The boy is respectful, intelligent. If he’s anything like his son, I’m sure his father would be a good addition.”

Your father exhales through his nose before looking at you “You really want this?”

“Yes.”

A long pause. Then—

“Fine.”

Your mother claps her hands together lightly “Wonderful.” She turns back to you, a knowing smile on her lips. “Tell Hongjoong his father can start next week.”

Relief washes over you, but you keep your expression composed. You lean against the edge of your father’s desk, tilting your head just slightly, letting your voice soften into that sweet, spoiled tone you know they can’t resist.

“Thank you, Daddy,” You say, drawing out the last word just enough to sound affectionate, not excessive.

Your father exhales, shaking his head as if he’s already regretting agreeing to this. But you don’t miss the way the tension in his shoulders loosens. He likes it when you act like his perfect little girl—like you adore him.

Your mother watches the interaction with amusement, sipping her tea. “You should’ve just started with that, sweetheart. You know your father can’t say no to you when you ask nicely.”

Your father gives her a flat look “That’s not true.”

“Oh, please.” She waves a delicate hand in the air. “You’ve been wrapped around her little finger since she could talk.”

You flash a smug little smile, but before you can say anything, your mother’s expression brightens.

“Oh! That reminds me.” She sets her teacup down and turns to you expectantly. “You should invite Hongjoong over for dinner one day.”

Your father grunts “What?”

Your mother raises an eyebrow “What, what? I like him. He’s polite, intelligent, and much better company than some of your other friends.” She pauses, pressing a manicured finger to her lips in thought. “And he’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes “Okay, calm down.”

She chuckles “I’m just saying, I want to see him again. And this time, without all the party noise.”

Your father mutters under his breath, flipping a page in his documents “I still don’t like the idea of my daughter wasting time with some scholarship kid.”

You pout dramatically, leaning toward him “But, Daddy,” You drawl, “I like him.”

He sighs, rubbing his temple “I swear, you only do this to torture me.”

You smile sweetly “That’s not true! I only do it when I want something.”

Your mother laughs, shaking her head “So? Will you invite him?”

You shrug, pushing off the desk “I’ll think about it.”

But you both know you’ll do it.

As you turn to leave, your mother calls after you, “And tell him I said hello!”

You wave a hand without looking back, already dreading Hongjoong’s reaction when you tell him.

Because if he agrees to dinner, you just know your mother is going to love embarrassing you.

✮ ⋆

Hongjoong opens the door, eyebrows raising slightly when he sees you standing on his porch, dressed effortlessly chic like you don’t belong in this neighborhood.

It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but it’s rare enough that the sight of you standing outside his house still feels surreal.

"Pretty?" He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. "Did I forget we had a date or something?"

You roll your eyes, stepping past him like you own the place "Please, nerd. If we had a date, you’d be waiting for me."

He huffs a laugh, closing the door behind you "So, what’s up?"

You spin on your heel, hands clasped in front of you like you’re about to drop the biggest news of the century.

"Well, I just came back from a very interesting conversation with my parents." He tenses slightly at the mention of them, but he doesn’t interrupt. "And guess what?" You tilt your head, smiling. "Your dad just got a job."

Hongjoong blinks "What?"

Before you can answer, his mother’s voice comes from the kitchen "Joong, who’s at the—" She pauses as she steps into the living room, eyes widening when she sees you. "Oh! YN, dear!"

You smile "Hi, Mrs. Kim."

His father enters the room next, looking surprised but polite "It’s nice to see you again, YN."

"You too, Mr. Kim," You reply warmly. "Actually, I came to tell you something." You glance at Hongjoong, then back to his father. "My dad just hired you as a personal driver."

A beat of silence. Then the woman clasps her hands together, eyes shining. "Oh, that’s wonderful news!" She turns to her husband, already fussing. "You see? Everything is working out. I told you things would get better."

The man, though visibly relieved, remains composed "This… this is really unexpected," He says carefully, looking at you. "Your father doesn’t know me, so why would he—"

"It was my idea," You cut in. "I told them about your situation, and they agreed."

Hongjoong’s parents exchange a glance, something unspoken passing between them. Gratitude. Maybe even a little disbelief.

Hongjoong stays quiet beside you, his eyes unreadable.

His mother sighs, then smiles at you warmly "YN, that was really kind of you."

You shrug, like it’s nothing, like you don’t actually care as much as you do "It’s the least I could do."

Mrs. Kim beams "Well, in that case, you must stay for dinner."

"Oh, I—"

"No buts," She says, already ushering you toward the dining table. "It’s our way of saying thank you."

You glance at Hongjoong, who just smirks, as if to say you brought this on yourself.

Fine. You’ll stay.

✮ ⋆

Dinner is surprisingly… nice. Warm. Unlike the silent, performative meals at the Clarke mansion, this table is filled with actual conversation.

Hongjoong’s father asks about school, his mother tells stories from work, and Hongjoong—well, he mostly watches you.

And under the table, his hand finds your thigh. You stiffen slightly at the unexpected touch, but when you glance at him, he’s focused on his plate like nothing’s happening.

His fingers, however, trace slow, lazy patterns against your skin, just under the hem of your skirt.

You shift slightly, your breath catching, but you don’t move his hand. His thumb presses lightly, and your nails dig into your fork.

Mrs. Kim suddenly laughs at something her husband says, then turns to you with a knowing look.

"YN, dear," She starts, voice full of something—something playful, something amused. "How long have you and my son been together?"

You nearly choke on your drink, Hongjoong finally looks up, biting back a smile.

"Excuse me?" You ask, feigning innocence.

His father smirks, shaking his head "You two think we don’t notice?" He nods toward his son. "You’ve been staring at her all night."

Hongjoong shrugs, far too casual "Can you blame me?"

You shoot him a look.

His mother giggles "And he’s been holding your hand under the table for the last ten minutes."

Oh.

You didn’t even realize. Somewhere between his teasing and the conversation, his hand had slipped into yours, fingers lazily intertwined.

Again, Hongjoong just smirks.

You clear your throat, quickly pulling your hand away "Anyway," You say, trying to steer the conversation anywhere else.

But his mother just hums, giving you both a knowing smile "Ah, young love."

Hongjoong leans in slightly, voice low enough for only you to hear "We could make it official, you know."

You gasp, eyes widening as you slap his arm lightly. "Hongjoong!"

His parents laugh at the interaction, clearly entertained, while Hongjoong just grins, absolutely unbothered.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, pretty,” He teases, rubbing his arm dramatically like you actually hurt him.

You roll your eyes, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. Idiot.

After dinner, Mrs. Kim insists on making tea, despite Hongjoong’s grumbles that ‘YN probably only drinks champagne, Mom.’ You roll your eyes but accept the tea anyway, sitting at the kitchen counter as his parents clear the table.

Hongjoong stands beside you, arms crossed, leaning slightly against the counter. He’s relaxed, comfortable in his home, but his eyes flicker toward you every few seconds.

You tap your nails against your mug “Your mom likes me.”

He snorts “Understatement. She’s already planning our wedding.”

You scoff, taking a sip of tea “I’d be a great addition to your family, let’s be honest.”

He tilts his head, considering “You do have expensive taste. My mom would love the gifts you’d bring her.”

You nudge him with your elbow “Oh, shut up.”

He grins, but before he can say something else, his mother calls from the living room. “Joong, come help your father with something!”

Hongjoong exhales through his nose, standing up straight “Be right back.” He pauses before heading off, leaning down just slightly so only you can hear. “Don’t miss me too much, pretty.”

You roll your eyes, but he catches the way your lips twitch.

Once he’s gone, you’re left in the quiet of the kitchen, staring down at your tea. It’s strange being here. The warmth, the ease—nothing like the cold, calculated world you come from.

And you hate how much you like it.

A few minutes later, you’re checking your phone when you feel it—gentle fingers trailing down your back. You shiver, looking up just as Hongjoong settles behind you, his presence warm, solid.

“They’re in the living room,” He murmurs. “We have a few minutes alone.”

You raise an eyebrow “And?”

“And…” He steps closer, his hand resting lightly against your hip. “I want to be with you without my mom watching like she’s this close to planning our honeymoon.”

You smirk, but before you can retort, he dips down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.

Your breath catches. His lips ghost over your skin, slow, deliberate. His hands find your waist, fingers tightening ever so slightly.

You’re still sitting on the stool, and he’s standing between your legs, close enough that you can feel his warmth against you.

“Joong—”

“Shhh,” He murmurs, placing another kiss just beneath your jaw. “I just like being near you.”

Your heart stutters. For all the teasing, all the flirting, this moment is different. It’s soft. Unrushed. His fingers brush over the fabric of your skirt, trailing lazily along your thigh like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

You don’t stop him. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, giving him more access.

He hums in approval, lips brushing your pulse before finally pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, but there’s something else in them—something real.

His thumb traces circles against your hip “You should come over more.”

You exhale a quiet laugh “Your mom would love that.”

“She would,” He agrees, smirking. “And maybe I would too.”

Your fingers find the collar of his sweater, tugging him closer until your lips are almost touching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then he kisses you.

It’s slow, deliberate, nothing rushed or messy. Just the warmth of his lips, the way his fingers tighten against you, the quiet hum that vibrates against your mouth.

He’s holding back, you can tell. And maybe you like that.

Maybe you like all of it.

But before things can go any further, the sound of someone clearing their throat shatters the moment.

You both freeze.

Slowly, you turn your head—only to see Mrs. Kim standing in the doorway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

Hongjoong immediately steps back, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh...”

She sighs, shaking her head “At least take her out on a proper date first, Kim Hongjoongl.”

You burst out laughing, while Hongjoong groans, burying his face in his hands.

✮ ⋆

After that awkward situation in the kitchen, you and Hongjoong make your way to his room, excusing yourselves with a vague, ‘We have things to do.’ His parents exchange a glance but don’t argue. If anything, they look downright amused.

His room is cleaner than you expected. Bookshelves filled with everything from fantasy novels to thick textbooks line the walls, and his desk is cluttered but organized.

As he digs through his drawers for fresh clothes, you skim over his bookshelf, fingers brushing over the spines until one catches your eye.

You plop onto his bed, flipping through the pages, completely lost in the book.

Then, the bathroom door clicks open.

You glance up—and immediately freeze.

Hongjoong stands in the doorway, fresh from the shower, steam still curling around him. His damp hair clings slightly to his forehead, droplets of water trailing down the sharp planes of his chest.

And the only thing he’s wearing? A towel.

Low on his hips.

Your throat runs dry.

He doesn’t notice at first—he’s too busy running a hand through his hair, sighing like he’s still processing everything that happened tonight. But then he looks at you, noticing your wide eyes, the way your fingers have frozen over the page.

His lips curve “Oh?” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Something wrong, pretty?”

You snap the book shut. Hard.

“Why are you standing there like that?” You demand, clearing your throat, pretending that nothing about this is affecting you.

Hongjoong shrugs “It’s my room. Didn’t know I needed to be fully dressed to exist in it.”

You glare at him “You’re doing this on purpose.”

He tilts his head, looking far too pleased with himself “Doing what on purpose?”

Your jaw clenches. Fine. Two can play this game.

You set the book aside and stretch, tilting your head slightly, letting your gaze slowly trail down his torso.

Hongjoong’s smirk falters just a little. Then, as if completely unfazed, you lean back against his pillows, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“You know,” You say, feigning nonchalance, “For a nerd, you’re in surprisingly good shape.”

He blinks. Then—he laughs, shaking his head “Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

You raise an eyebrow “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” He steps closer, eyes darkening slightly, “That you are the biggest tease I’ve ever met.”

He’s right in front of you now, way too close, the scent of his shampoo still fresh. You can see the water droplets clinging to his collarbone, sliding down his skin, disappearing beneath the towel.

Your stomach flutters “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You say, voice way too even.

Hongjoong hums, unconvinced. And then his fingers graze your knee. You jolt slightly, but before you can react, he slides his hand up, slow, teasing. Over your thigh, pushing your skirt up just barely, his fingertips ghosting over sensitive skin.

Your breath hitches.

He leans in, voice low, taunting “Tell me, pretty…” His lips hover near your ear. “If I am doing this on purpose… is it working?”

Your pulse pounds.

God, you hate him. But you also don’t.

And maybe that’s the real problem.

Before you can make the very reckless decision to grab him by the towel and end his teasing yourself, Hongjoong grins—the cockiest grin you’ve ever seen—and pulls away completely, stepping back toward his dresser like nothing just happened.

“I should get dressed,” He muses, voice far too casual. “We have places to be, remember?”

You stare at him. He’s so lucky you like him.

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms as he rummages through his drawer “You are the most annoying person I know.”

He tosses a shirt over his head, grinning “And yet, here you are.”

You throw a pillow at him.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Fifteen minutes later, you arrive at the café, the glow from the streetlights casting long shadows through the clear glass windows. Your steps slow as your eyes land on her.

Jina.

She’s behind the counter, casually wiping a glass, completely unaware of what’s coming.

Your lips press into a thin line, irritation bubbling to the surface.

Hongjoong notices immediately, chuckling under his breath as he reaches out, fingers tilting your chin so your eyes meet his instead.

"Stop frowning, pretty. You’ll get wrinkles."

You scoff “Joong, that slut tried to mess with me and you. Don’t expect me to act all nice and sweet around her.”

His lips twitch with amusement, but instead of scolding you, he leans down and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your lips.

"It’s okay, pretty. But please don’t punch her, or I’ll never bring you to a café again."

You roll your eyes “Whatever.”

Hongjoong sighs but laces his fingers through yours, leading you toward the entrance. The bell above the door jingles softly as you step inside, the warm scent of coffee and vanilla lingering in the air.

The second Jina hears the sound, she turns, already slipping into her customer-service smile.

"Welcome to—"

Her voice dies in her throat the moment she sees you.

You, standing next to him.

You, holding his hand like nothing had happened between you two.

A flicker of something—shock, unease—crosses her face before she quickly schools her expression.

Still, you catch it.

The hesitation.

The way she stiffens ever so slightly under your gaze.

She swallows, clearing her throat "Welcome to Café Aurora. How can I help you?"

Hongjoong doesn’t respond. Neither do you. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a neatly folded envelope, placing it on the counter.

"It’s my resignation. Thank Mr. Choi on my behalf."

Jina flinches slightly at the soft thud of the envelope hitting the polished wood.

"What?" Her voice comes out quieter than she intends.

He doesn’t repeat himself. He simply watches her, expression unreadable. A heavy silence settles between the three of you, thick with tension.

Then, he speaks again—his tone even, but firm.

"Before we go, I want to ask you something, Jina." She tenses. "Where do you know Park Seonghwa from?"

For the first time, true panic flashes across her face.

Her breath catches. Her fingers tighten around the rag she’s holding, knuckles turning white.

You don’t miss the way her eyes flick toward you—just for a second—before she quickly looks away, pretending to focus on something across the room.

Like she’s debating whether or not to lie.

Like she’s wondering if you remember.

Your own brows furrow slightly. Why would she—And then it hits you.

The familiarity in her gaze. The way she seems to know you, not just Hongjoong.

You narrow your eyes “Why do I feel like I’ve seen you before?”

Jina’s jaw tightens, lips pressing into a firm line.

Hongjoong shifts slightly beside you, glancing between the two of you “Wait. You know her?”

You blink, memories stirring in the back of your mind, hazy but persistent. You have seen her before.

Not here.

Not as Hongjoong’s coworker.

But years ago.

At Seonghwa’s house.

Your stomach drops, realization crashes into you like a tidal wave. Jina wasn’t just some random girl working at this café.

She worked for Seonghwa’s family.

She had been there. During the years you “dated” Hwa, when you spent countless afternoons at his house. And yet, back then, you never really noticed her.

She was just another staff member, someone in the background, someone who blended into the luxury of the Park estate.

But the way Jina looks at you now—Like she remembers everything.

Like she knows exactly who you are.

Your throat tightens, and Hongjoong notices the change in your expression immediately.

“YN?”

Jina exhales slowly, fingers still gripping the rag in her hands. Then—finally—she speaks. "So, you really don’t remember, huh?"

You meet her gaze, heart pounding “Remember what?”

Jina lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking her head “Figures.” She leans forward slightly, lowering her voice. “You used to be in his house all the time, but you never even looked at me, did you?”

Your fingers curl into fists “What the hell are you talking about?”

Jina tilts her head, eyes glinting “You really don’t know, do you?”

Hongjoong stiffens beside you “Know what?”

She pauses, studying you both.

"Are you sure Seonghwa wanted something serious with you back then?"

A sharp, hollow ache settles in your chest, the weight of Jina’s words pressing into you like a slow, creeping poison.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Your voice is sharp, but there’s something beneath it—something raw.

Jina smirks, tapping her fingers against the counter, eyes flickering between you and Hongjoong.

“I mean exactly what I said. Are you sure Seonghwa ever really saw you as his?”

Hongjoong shifts beside you, his presence grounding you, but your pulse is hammering against your ribs.

“You’re lying.”

Jina raises a brow, clearly amused “Am I?”

Your jaw clenches. You want to ignore this. You want to roll your eyes, turn around, and walk out like none of this matters. Like he doesn’t matter. Like your past with Hwa was just that—past.

But something inside you twists.

You had liked him—really liked him. Back then, you had convinced yourself that the games you played with him meant something, that the tension, the lingering glances, the way he acted like you were the only girl in the room was real.

But if Jina’s words were true—if he had never really meant it, if you were just one of many—then what the hell had all of it been for?

Your stomach churns. Hongjoong, silent until now, finally steps in, his voice firm, protective.

“YN, we don’t have to listen to this.”

But you can’t move. You can’t breathe. Because the memories are flashing—the nights you waited for Seonghwa to call, the excuses he made, the moments that never quite added up.

Jina watches you, her smirk deepening “There it is.”

You snap your gaze back to hers, eyes burning “What do you want? Huh? What’s your goal here?”

Jina leans back, feigning innocence “I don’t want anything. I just think you deserve to know what kind of man Seonghwa really is.”

It shouldn’t hurt. Not anymore.

You have Hongjoong.

Hongjoong, who would never play with your feelings like that. Hongjoong, who looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world.

And suddenly, that’s enough.

The pain dulls.

You exhale, letting go of the sharp, bitter sting in your chest. You turn to him, and when your eyes meet, the warmth there is undeniable.

You have everything you need.

Seonghwa is just a name from your past. A mistake.

You look back at Jina, but this time, your lips curve—not into a smirk, not into anger, but into indifference.

“You know what, Jina?” You say smoothly, voice steady. “I don’t care.”

Jina blinks, her smirk faltering for the first time.

You step closer, tilting your head “You really thought this would break me?” A soft chuckle leaves your lips. “That’s pathetic.”

And with that, you turn to Hongjoong, grabbing his hand as you lace your fingers through his. His grip tightens, reassuring.

Without another word, you pull him toward the exit, leaving Jina behind.

Because for the first time, you realize—you’ve already won.

✮ ⋆

The low hum of the car engine fills the silence between you and Hongjoong as he drives through the dimly lit streets.

The city blurs past, neon lights reflecting against the windshield, but your mind is somewhere else—stuck in the past.

Hongjoong doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

He can sense it—the shift in your mood, the way your shoulders are tense, the distant look in your eyes.

“You’re quiet,” He finally says, voice softer than usual.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you sigh, shifting slightly in your seat.

“I’m just… thinking.”

Hongjoong hums in acknowledgment, giving you space to find the words. You exhale sharply, pressing your forehead against the window for a moment before turning to him.

“Did I ever tell you that I really liked Seonghwa?”

Hongjoong’s fingers twitch around the wheel, but he keeps his expression neutral.

“No, but I assumed it for the way you two used to act.” He says carefully.

A bitter chuckle leaves your lips “Well, I did. Or at least, I thought I did.” You shake your head, scoffing at yourself. “I was so sure that what we had was real. That if I played hard to get long enough, he’d actually make a move.”

He doesn’t interrupt, just listens.

Your fingers tighten into your lap “And now, to find out that he was screwing around with Jina the entire time…” You trail off, clenching your jaw. “I was an idiot.”

Hongjoong exhales, reaching over to take your hand in his. His thumb strokes slow, soothing circles against your skin.

“You weren’t an idiot,” He murmurs. “You just believed in someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Your chest tightens. You glance down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch spreading through you, grounding you.

He continues, his voice gentle but firm “Seoghwa never deserved you. And if he had even half a brain, he would’ve known that.”

You look at him then, your lips parting slightly. There’s no jealousy in his voice. No smugness. Just certainty. Like he’s always known your worth—even when you didn’t.

For the first time since leaving the café, the ache in your chest softens.

You squeeze his hand “Thank you, Joongie.” You say quietly.

Hongjoong offers you a small smile before focusing back on the road.

“Are you going to confront him?” He asks.

You nod, your gaze sharpening “Oh, absolutely. He owes me an apology, and he’s going to give it.”

He chuckles “Remind me never to piss you off.”

You smirk, feeling lighter than before “Oh, you already did. You’re just lucky I forgave you.”

By the time you pull into the long driveway of your mansion, the tension between you and Hongjoong has shifted into something else entirely.

Something heavier.

The moment the car stops, silence settles between you—thick, charged.

Hongjoong shifts in his seat, eyes flickering to yours, dark and hungry “You’re staring,” He murmurs.

Your lips curl into a slow smirk “So are you.”

He swallows hard. You know what he’s thinking. You feel it—the weight of weeks spent apart, of lingering touches that never went far enough, of all the things left unsaid.

And now, alone in the dim glow of the car, it finally snaps.

You reach for him first, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you pull him in. Your lips crash against his, and the moment they do, he groans—low, needy, like he’s been starving for this.

Hongjoong kisses you like he’s making up for lost time—desperate, reckless, his hands sliding up your waist, gripping you tighter than he should.

You don’t care, you want it—want him.

A soft moan escapes you when his fingers slip beneath your dress, skimming along your thighs, his touch scorching against your skin.

“Fuck,” He breathes against your lips, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath ragged. “We should—go inside.”

You smirk, trailing your fingers down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer beneath your palm.

“You sure you can wait that long?”

His jaw clenches, his hands tightening around you, and before you know it, he’s pulling you into his lap, his seat pushed back just enough.

The moment you straddle him, he loses it.

His hands roam greedily, his lips devour yours, his breath hitching every time you grind against him.

But then—

The sudden flash of headlights approaching the driveway snaps you both back to reality.

You jolt, your eyes widening “Shit.”

Hongjoong curses, gripping your waist as you scramble off him, both of you breathless, flushed, aching. You adjust your skirt, and Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

“You’re a menace,” He mutters, voice hoarse.

You grin, fixing your lipstick in the rearview mirror “And you love it.”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head “Yeah. I do.”

The moment you step out of the car, smoothing your dress and pretending you weren’t just grinding on your nerdy boy, you hear the hum of an approaching engine.

Hongjoong, still catching his breath, freezes beside you. His hair is a mess, his hoodie slightly disheveled—he looks guilty as hell. You turn your head just in time to see the sleek black car pulling into the driveway.

Your parents’ car, your heart drops.

He exhales sharply “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You barely have time to compose yourself before the car door swings open and your mother steps out first, graceful as ever. Your father follows, adjusting his cufflinks, both completely unaware of what they just interrupted.

Yet.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s voice is warm, delighted. “What a surprise to see you home early.”

Hongjoong tenses beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, looking like a kid caught sneaking out past curfew.

You, on the other hand, recover instantly, flipping your hair over your shoulder and flashing a perfectly practiced smile.

“Hi.” You greet smoothly, stepping forward like nothing is out of the ordinary. “Didn’t expect you two back so soon. How was dinner?”

Your father eyes Hongjoong for a second longer than necessary before answering.

“Productive,” He says, his tone measured. “We met with investors—secured another deal.”

“Oh, how lovely.” You nod, your voice syrupy sweet, desperately hoping they won’t notice the faint smudge of lipstick on Hongjoong’s jaw.

But your mother’s sharp gaze flickers between the two of you, taking in every detail. The way Hongjoong won’t meet her eyes, the slight flush on his face, the way your dress looks just a little more wrinkled than before.

Then—realization dawns.

Her lips twitch “Oh, honey,” She hums, amused. “We didn’t… interrupt anything, did we?”

Hongjoong chokes. Actually chokes.

You blink, keeping your expression perfectly neutral “Of course not,” You lie effortlessly.

Your mother tilts her head, clearly not believing a single word.

Your father sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Darling, be discreet,” He mutters. “If you must do… this”—he waves a vague hand between you and Hongjoong—“At least have the decency to do it inside the house.”

Hongjoong turns bright red. his glasses covering the way his eyes shut with embarrassment.

You grin, looping your arm through his “Of course, Daddy. We’ll be very discreet.”

Your father groans. Your mother, meanwhile, just smirks, shaking her head.

“Hongjoong, dear,” She says smoothly, “Why don’t you come inside for a drink before you go?”

Hongjoong, still recovering, nods stiffly “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

You pat his chest, whispering, “Relax, nerd. My mom likes you.”

He mutters under his breath “That’s not the one I’m worried about.”

And with that, you lead him inside—your parents following close behind, and your mother still very much amused.

The warmth of the mansion greets you as you step inside, but the atmosphere is anything but comfortable for Hongjoong.

Your mother glides in effortlessly, a small knowing smile still lingering on her lips, while your father sighs heavily, already loosening his tie like he doesn’t want to deal with this tonight.

Hongjoong, on the other hand?

He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You squeeze his hand reassuringly as the four of you step into the lounge, where the dim glow of the chandelier casts soft shadows across the room.

Your mother gestures toward the leather sofas “Sit, sit,” She says, her voice almost teasing.

He hesitates. You don’t.

Dragging him along with you, you plop down elegantly on one of the couches, crossing your legs, exuding nothing but confidence. Hongjoong, stiff as a board, lowers himself beside you—looking very out of place.

Your father pours himself a drink, running a tired hand through his hair before turning to him.

“Whiskey?” He asks.

Hongjoong blinks “Uh—no, sir. I’m good.”

Your mother hums, sitting gracefully across from you both “You don’t have to be so formal, Hongjoong. We already know you and YN are… close.”

He shifts uncomfortably “Right.”

You smirk, tapping your fingers against your knee “You don’t have to traumatize him, Mom.”

Your mother chuckles, tilting her head “I think it’s adorable. You’re the first boy YN has ever brought home in a serious way.”

Hongjoong freezes.

Your father scoffs “Serious?” He sips his drink, unimpressed. “This is the same girl who threw a designer shoe at my head when I suggested she attend a dinner instead of going out with friends.”

Your mother ignores him “Hongjoong, sweetheart, how is your family?”

He blinks, snapping out of his existential crisis “Oh—uh, good. My dad had his first day today. Thank you again for the opportunity, Mr. Clarke.”

Your father nods, dismissive “He did well.”

Your mother, however, smiles warmly “It was YN’s idea.”

Mike turns to you. “I know,” he says softly. “I still don’t know how to thank you.”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “You don’t have to.”

But your mother? She notices everything—the way Hongjoong looks at you, the way your fingers twitch like you’re stopping yourself from reaching for his hand, the way he makes you soft.

Her smile deepens “Well,” She hums, placing her glass down. “Since we’re all so comfortable, why don’t you join us for dinner sometime soon, Hongjoong?”

He stiffens, you grin. Your father sighs, already regretting everything.

Hongjoong clears his throat “That’s… really generous, Mrs. Clarke.”

“Oh, please,” She waves him off. “Call me Catherine.”

Hongjoong visibly swallows “That’s… really generous, Catherine.”

Your father nearly chokes on his drink, you snicker under your breath.

Your mother just beams “Perfect. I’ll set something up soon.”

He nods, and just when he thinks the interrogation is over your mother’s eyes flicker between the two of you, her smirk returning.

“So,” She leans forward slightly, voice dangerously amused. “Where exactly were you two before we arrived?”

Hongjoong stops breathing.

Your father sighs into his whiskey “Jesus Christ, Catherine.”

You, completely unbothered, just smirk “Nowhere interesting.”

Your mother laughs, sipping her wine.

Hongjoong? He’s never been more stressed in his life.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The school hallways are alive with chatter as you step through the entrance, the silence parting for you like the sea parting for royalty.

It’s been three weeks since you last walked these halls. Three long weeks, spent hiding in the shadows of your own house, nursing wounds both physical and emotional.

But today, you're back.

Your heels click against the floor with each confident step, and you feel the eyes of the students on you—some of them staring in awe, some in jealousy, and others in pure admiration.

Whispers ripple through the crowd as you walk past them, and you can’t help but smirk. You know what they’re saying.

The Queen Bee has returned.

You walk with your head held high, shoulders squared, and a smile that borders on smug. Your friends are all there, surrounding you like the loyal subjects they are. Mindy and Wooyoung are by your side, smiling at the attention you're getting, the flashes of admiration in their eyes mirroring your own.

But even as you drink in the attention, there’s something in the air that you can’t ignore. The familiar pressure of someone’s gaze—the feeling of eyes on you from across the room.

You know who it is before you even see him.

Seonghwa.

You turn your head, catching sight of him standing near his locker, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watches you approach. He straightens as you get closer, the friendly expression in his eyes barely masking the sharpness beneath.

"Sweetheart," He says, his voice smooth, warm, and filled with an almost brotherly concern. "Where have you been? Haven't seen you around for a while. Everything okay?"

You smile, perfectly poised, the kind of smile that looks warm but never quite reaches your eyes.

“Seonghwa,” You greet, stopping just short of where he stands. “How sweet of you to notice.”

He chuckles, leaning against his locker with the kind of casual arrogance that once made your stomach flutter.

Now? It makes you sick.

“Of course I noticed,” He says smoothly, eyes flickering over your face, your stance—always analyzing, always calculating. “Three weeks is a long time to go without seeing you.”

Mindy and Wooyoung exchange glances behind you, but they say nothing. They know better than to interrupt.

You tilt your head, feigning curiosity “Did you miss me?”

Hwa smirks, and there it is—that infuriating, cocky confidence, the belief that you’ll always fall into his hands, just like you used to.

“I think the better question is,” He steps closer, voice lowering, “Did you miss me?”

You laugh, the sound light and dismissive, like the very thought is entertaining.

“Hwa,” You purr, tapping a manicured nail against your chin, “I’ve had… so much to think about these past few weeks.” Your gaze drags over him, slow, assessing—letting him think he still has a chance. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve learned.”

His smirk falters for half a second, but you see it.

You see everything.

You step closer, close enough that only he can hear you when you murmur, “You and I have so much to catch up on.”

Seonghwa studies you, trying to gauge if you’re being playful or if there’s something more dangerous beneath your words.

You don’t let him figure it out.

Instead, you brush past him, letting your perfume linger in the air between you, a lingering reminder that you are no longer the fool who once loved him blindly.

Mindy falls into step beside you, waiting until you’re out of earshot before whispering, “That was fucking terrifying.”

Wooyoung just whistles “Damn, babydoll. He’s gonna suffer.”

You smile.

He has no idea.

✮ ⋆

The cafeteria is alive with energy, students laughing, chatting, living in their own little worlds. But at your table? The air is thick, heavy with tension, the kind that turns heads and makes people pay attention.

You sit at your usual spot, sipping your drink as Mindy and Wooyoung throw teasing comments back and forth.

Across from you, San and Mingi lounge comfortably, more entertained than anything as Seonghwa takes his seat, acting as if he owns the space.

And he might have before.

Before he started working against you. Before he thought he could outplay you. Before you learned the truth.

Seonghwa leans forward, flashing you a smirk, his presence demanding your attention "So, baby—"

“Hey, pretty.”

The entire table shifts, your smirk grows before you even turn to look. Because you already know who that voice belongs to.

Hongjoong.

He slides into the seat beside you like he’s been doing it for years, like this is exactly where he belongs. And then—he does it. He leans in, presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, his hand resting against your thigh like it’s his right.

Seonghwa goes still.

Mindy bites her lip to keep from grinning. Wooyoung? He’s barely containing a laugh.

San and Mingi glance at each other, picking up on something dangerous.

But Seonghwa?

He’s frozen, staring at you and Hongjoong like the world just tilted off its axis.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” His voice is low, tight with something uglier than frustration.

You tilt your head, eyes dancing with amusement “Something wrong?”

Hwa’s jaw clenches “I thought…” He stops himself, recalculating, but the damage is already done. You see it in his eyes.

He thought he still had a chance.

And now? He doesn’t.

Hongjoong doesn’t even glance at him. He just shrugs, completely at ease “I think he thought we weren’t on good terms, pretty.”

Seonghwa’s eyes snap to him, burning with fury.

You smirk.

“Oh, Hwa,” Mindy sighs dramatically, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You should’ve kept up with the gossip.”

Seonghwa stares at you, as if waiting for some kind of explanation, some confirmation that this is all a joke.

But you don’t give him one. Instead, you lean into Hongjoong’s touch, fingers grazing over his wrist in an intimate, deliberate move.

The weight of his glare is suffocating, burning into you and Hongjoong, but neither of you react. You just smile, the picture of ease, while Hongjoong—calm, collected, unbothered—takes a sip of his drink like this is just another normal day.

San and Mingi exchange a look, sensing the storm brewing, but Wooyoung and Mindy? They’re thriving in the chaos.

Seonghwa finally speaks, his voice tight, controlled, but just barely.

“So, what? You two just—got back together?” His fingers drum against the table, a nervous tick he can’t quite suppress.

You lean back, feigning surprise “Why wouldn’t we?”

His eyes darken, his lips part like he’s about to argue, but he stops himself. He’s realizing things, piecing together all the lies he swallowed as truth.

Mindy hums, propping her chin on her hand “Did you really think they broke up, Hwa?”

Seonghwa doesn’t look at her. He looks at you and you hold his gaze, refusing to be the first to break. He hated that about you—how you never wavered, never bent to his will.

His tongue clicks, irritation flashing across his face “It’s just funny, that’s all.” His smirk returns, but it’s weaker now, forced. “Considering the rumors.”

You feign innocence “Rumors?”

He leans in, dropping his voice so only you can hear “That this nerd was using you.”

Hongjoong tenses beside you.

You grin, slow and deliberate “Oh, that.”

Hwa’s smirk twitches. You place a hand on Hongjoong’s thigh, casual, effortless—a claim.

“If that were true,” You murmur, “Do you really think I’d still be with him?”

Seonghwa hates the way Hongjoong doesn’t even have to say anything. Hates the way you’re looking at him like he’s the one who’s pathetic.

His jaw tightens, and for a brief second, you can see it—the fury, the frustration, the realization that he played himself.

And then—he laughs. Shakes his head, leaning back, drumming his fingers on the table again, pretending this doesn’t bother him.

“Guess not,” He mutters, eyes flicking toward Wooyoung and Mindy. “Guess someone’s been feeding me bullshit.”

Mindy gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest “Oh no, Hwa. Were you misled?”

Wooyoung grins, wrapping an arm around her “Damn, man. That’s rough.”

Hwa’s eyes narrow. He knows.

He knows they set him up.

And when he looks at you one last time, you don’t have to say it out loud.

You played the game better.

And he lost.

For the first time, he has no control.

For the first time, you won.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The final bell rings, signaling the end of another school day. Students spill into the hallways, laughter and chatter filling the air as everyone heads off to do whatever rich, privileged, private-school kids do after class.

You glance at Hongjoong as you walk beside him, nudging his arm lightly.

“So, what’s the plan, nerd? Are you free?”

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “Actually… Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang need me for something in the library.”

“You’re ditching me to do nerd things?”

He chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets “Not ditching. I did say you could come.”

You stop walking, turning to him with a slow, dramatic smirk “You want me to do nerd stuff… with your nerd friends… nerd?”

Hongjoong grins “Basically.”

You scoff, crossing your arms “I should say no on principle.”

“But you won’t,” He counters easily, smug.

You narrow your eyes at him, then sigh in exaggerated defeat “Fine. I’ll grace you all with my presence. But if I get bored, I’m leaving.”

Hongjoong nudges your waist playfully “You won’t.”

You roll your eyes but let him lead the way.

The library is quiet, dimly lit by the late afternoon sun filtering through the tall, arched windows. Shelves of books stretch high, the scent of old paper and wood polish lingering in the air.

At a far table, three familiar faces sit, already setting up their things—Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang. You and Hongjoong approach, and Yunho looks up first, his face brightening in surprise.

“Oh, hey, man. You actually brought her?”

Jongho smirks “I thought she’d be too busy shopping or making people cry.”

Hongjoong shrugs “She wanted to come.”

You snort, sliding into a chair “Let’s not lie to ourselves, Kim.”

Yeosang laughs, shaking his head before glancing toward the bookshelves “We should probably get started. Dann’s already here.”

“Wait—Dann’s here?” The moment Hongjoong says it, you stiffen too.

You turn your head slowly—too slowly—until your gaze locks onto her.

Dann.

She stands a few feet away, a book clutched tightly in her hands, her entire body tense.

Your presence here? She wasn’t expecting it.

You and Hongjoong sit down at the table, but there's an undeniable awkwardness that hangs in the air. Dann’s presence is almost suffocating—you can feel her gaze on you, but you pretend you don't notice.

Instead, you lean in toward Hongjoong, your hand finding its way to his thigh under the table.

His fingers graze your wrist as you smile at him, brushing your lips against his ear “Ready to work, nerd?” You murmur, your breath warm against his skin.

He smiles back, that familiar look of adoration in his eyes “Always, but first—”

He leans in and kisses you, slow and teasing, the kind of kiss that makes you feel like the world just stops for a moment.

You pull away just slightly, eyes meeting his “You really need to stop distracting me,” You tease.

Hongjoong grins, not one bit sorry “I can’t help it when you're so distracting.”

The others at the table shift uncomfortably, and you feel the heat of their awkward glances. Yunho, trying to break the tension, clears his throat loudly.

“So, Queen Bee, you gonna help us with this or what?”

You blink “How quaint.”

“Yeah, we're gonna need someone with that attitude to get through this,” Jongho jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully. “And since Joong’s clearly already distracted—”

You roll your eyes but don’t resist “Fine, fine. What are we doing?”

From the corner of your eye, you catch Dann standing slightly apart from the group, fidgeting with the book in her hands. She’s trying to act like she’s not watching, but you feel it—her stare, the weight of her presence, the discomfort written all over her face.

Hongjoong, oblivious to everything but you, leans in slightly “We’re creating study guides for other students. Wanna help?”

You scoff, crossing your arms “Study guides? I didn’t know school nerds were running that kind of operation.”

Jongho laughs, tilting his head at you “Really? I didn’t know you even knew about the study guides. I thought you just paid nerds to take your exams for you.”

Your jaw drops slightly in mock offense, but in reality, you find the comment hilarious.

“Excuse you,” You huff, flipping your hair dramatically. “I am more than a pretty face, you nerd.” You snatch a textbook from the stack in front of you. “Now, give me those fucking books.”

Hongjoong grins at you, shaking his head “See? She’s a fast learner.”

“I was always smart,” You correct, flipping open the book and pretending to scan the page.

“That’s up for debate,” Jongho quips.

“You better watch it,” You warn, smirking.

Yunho chuckles, nudging Dann, who still stands awkwardly on the sidelines “Come on, don’t just stand there. You’re supposed to be the real nerd here.”

Dann startles slightly, caught off guard “H-Huh?”

Yeosang shoots her a knowing look, his voice light but careful “Don’t act like you haven’t done this a million times before. You’re always the one fixing our answers.”

Jongho nods in agreement “Yeah, sit down, Dann.”

Dann hesitates, but the warmth in their voices, the familiarity, makes her shift awkwardly. “I—yeah.”

“You in?” Yeosang asks.

Her heart clenches. Because that’s the problem, isn’t it? She was never really in. Not the way you are.

Not the way she wanted to be.

But despite the sting, she forces a smile, nodding “Yeah. I’m in.”

She pretends it doesn’t hurt when she sees Hongjoong’s hand absently squeeze your thigh under the table.

She pretends that being included still means something.

Even if it’s too late.

——

As the study session progresses, the library fills with the quiet hum of flipping pages, hushed discussions, and the occasional laughter from your table.

You're flipping through one of the books, trying to make sense of the notes when Hongjoong leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You sure you’re not just pretending to read?” He murmurs.

You scoff, shoving his face away lightly “Shut up, nerd.”

Jongho snorts “That’s literally what we said—she just sits here to look smart.”

You glare at him, tossing a pencil in his direction “I will end you.”

Yeosang smirks, tapping his pen against his notebook “I mean, to be fair, YN, we are impressed. Usually, you’d be terrorizing the halls, not… doing actual schoolwork.”

Yunho grins “And she hasn’t threatened to quit yet. Growth.”

“Yet,” You emphasize, pointing your pen at him. “Don't get ahead of yourselves.”

Hongjoong chuckles, sliding an arm over the back of your chair, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder.

“Nah, she’s too competitive to quit now. She’s gotta prove us all wrong.”

You huff but don’t deny it. Meanwhile, Dann barely hears the conversation.

She keeps her head down, scribbling mindlessly in the margins of her notebook, pretending to be focused. But in reality, she’s distracted—by the way Hongjoong leans into you, how effortlessly you fall into place among his friends.

She should be used to this feeling by now, but it still stings.

Yunho nudges her again, voice lighthearted “Dann, you good? You haven’t called me an idiot yet, and I know I’ve messed up at least three times.”

Dann blinks, forcing a weak chuckle “Oh—uh, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?”

Yeosang tilts his head, studying her a little too carefully, but doesn’t press.

“Was just asking if I should format this section like the last one or break it into smaller parts,” Yunho says, handing her a sheet of notes.

She takes it with trembling fingers, trying to focus. But then—

Soft laughter.

She glances up just in time to see Hongjoong kissing your cheek, his hand resting way too comfortably on your lap.

Her stomach twists.

She did this.

She made a deal with Seonghwa. She fed Mike information. She helped spread rumors about you.

And for what?

To watch Hongjoong fall for someone else anyway? To watch you win again?

Her grip on the pen tightens. But… it’s not jealousy that eats at her this time.

It’s guilt.

Because if she had just stayed out of it, if she hadn’t let her petty resentment and heartbreak drive her, maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Maybe Mike wouldn’t have gone that far.

Maybe Hongjoong wouldn’t hate her if he knew.

But now, it’s too late.

She can’t undo what she’s done.

And soon, she’ll have no choice but to face it.

✮ ⋆

The library session lasts longer than expected. By the time you all wrap up, the school halls are mostly empty, bathed in the dim glow of the evening lights.

Hongjoong stretches beside you, cracking his neck "Alright, nerd squad, mission accomplished."

Jongho groans, rubbing his eyes "Barely. I swear, if one more person asks me to explain quadratic equations, I'm quitting school."

Yeosang chuckles, stuffing his papers into his bag "You'll survive. Probably."

"Yeah, yeah," Jongho mutters. Then he smirks. "Still can't believe YN actually helped."

"I told you," Hongjoong says proudly, pulling you close with an arm around your waist. "She's not just a pretty face."

"Obviously," You say, flipping your hair.

Yunho stretches, groaning "That’s enough brainpower for today."

Hongjoong grins "You sure? Thought nerd stuff was your hobby."

Linda scoffs, leaning into his side "Yeah, yeah, this was cute and all, but next time, I’m making you all do my homework instead."

Hongjoong chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger on your cheek for just a second longer than necessary, and the small gesture makes your heart flutter.

Across the table, Dann watches.

Everyone is grabbing their things, chatting casually about the day as they prepare to leave.

And then—

"You already know Hongjoong is using you, right?"

The words hang in the air, cutting through the lighthearted atmosphere like a blade.

Hongjoong freezes.

You do too.

Slowly, you turn your head, eyes locking onto Dann.

She looks like she immediately regrets it.

Yunho lets out a low whistle "Damn."

Yeosang glances between the three of you, eyebrows raised.

Jongho exhales sharply, his grip tightening around the strap of his backpack "What the hell did you just say?"

Dann’s mouth parts, but no words come out.

"I—"

"You know what?" Your voice is eerily calm, dangerously calm. "Let me make sure I heard you right." You tilt your head. "You think Joong is using me?"

Dann’s heart pounds, she didn’t mean to say it.

It just slipped.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, so lost in the pain of seeing you two together that the words just fell out.

But now it’s too late.

Hongjoong scoffs, running a hand down his face "That’s actually insane."

"You know what’s more insane?" You fold your arms. "The fact that you even thought that, Dann."

"I—" She tries again, her voice wavering. "I didn’t mean… It was just—"

"Just what?" Your voice is sharper now. "Something you just casually thought? Or did someone put that idea in your head?" Dann’s stomach drops. You let out a bitter chuckle. "Unbelievable."

Yunho and Jongho exchange glances, watching the scene unfold in tense silence.

Yeosang clears his throat "Uh, maybe we should—"

"No." Hongjoong shakes his head. "I wanna hear this." His voice lowers, but it’s sharp—cutting. "You really think that little of me?"

Dann panics.

"I didn’t— I mean, I don’t know!" She blurts out, shaking her head. "I just.. I heard—" She stops herself.

But it’s already too late.

Your expression doesn’t change, but the slightest flicker in your gaze tells Hongjoong everything. You know exactly what’s happening.

But you can’t let on, so you do what you do best.

You smirk "You heard what?" You ask smoothly, tilting your head. "Come on, Dann. Don’t get shy on me now."

Dann feels trapped. Every fiber in her being is screaming at her to fix this.

To lie.

To say anything to make it go away.

But she can’t.

She can only stand there, feeling the weight of her own betrayal crushing down on her.

Hongjoong exhales sharply, shaking his head "I really thought we were cool, Dann."

That makes it worse.

He doesn’t sound angry.

He sounds disappointed.

Dann swallows hard, staring at the floor "I… I should go."

Nobody stops her.

Not even Yunho, Jongho, or Yeosang.

She grabs her things and rushes out, leaving behind the suffocating tension she created.

The second she’s gone, Jongho exhales, shaking his head "What the fuck was that?"

"That was crazy."

Hongjoong is still staring at the door Dann disappeared through.

You touch his arm, voice soft "You okay?"

He looks down at you, searching your face for a moment before sighing "Yeah," He mutters. "I’m just— I don’t know. I was really hoping that she wasn't involved with Park and Mike."

You squeeze his hand, your voice steady "Well, she is."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The dining room is bathed in warm, golden light, the soft clinking of silverware against fine china the only sound filling the space.

The Clarke family dinners are always a performance—elegance, poise, and surface-level pleasantries hiding the rot underneath.

You push your food around your plate, only half-listening as your mother hums approvingly, sipping her wine.

“Well,” She says, a pleased smile on her lips. “I must say, Hongjoong’s father has been a wonderful addition to the household staff.”

Your fork pauses midair.

Mike’s does too.

Your father nods in agreement, setting his glass down “Punctual, respectful, efficient—everything we could ask for. He’s handling the job well.”

You relax slightly, about to take a bite when Mike speaks.

“I’m sorry, but what?”

The room stiffens. You glance up just in time to catch his expression shift—from confusion to realization to rage.

Your mother, ever the graceful hostess, waves a hand delicately “Oh, we didn’t mention it, did we?” She chuckles lightly, as if it were a minor oversight. “YN came to us with the idea. Hongjoong’s father was out of work, so we hired him.”

Mike’s jaw tightens, his grip on his knife turns white-knuckled. You feel the tension roll off him in waves.

Your father—oblivious or simply uninterested in Mike’s growing fury—adds, “And truthfully, it was a great decision. The man is trustworthy. If he keeps it up, he might even stay with us long-term.”

Mike’s fork clatters against his plate. Your mother flinches.

“I see,” He says, voice icy. His gaze cuts straight through you. “And no one thought to tell me?”

“Didn’t seem necessary,” Your father replies simply.

Mike’s anger shifts, redirecting itself entirely onto you “Of course,” He mutters. “It was your idea.”

You meet his gaze, keeping your posture calm, collected, untouchable “Yes,” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “It was.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it “Unbelievable.”

Your mother sighs, setting down her fork “Mike, don’t start.”

“Don’t start?” Mike echoes, leaning back in his chair. “So, let me get this straight—you let her bring some random lower-class worker into our home, let him drive us around like some pet project, and I’m just supposed to accept it?”

“He’s not random,” You say, voice sharp. “He’s Hongjoong’s father.”

“Oh, right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Hongjoong.” His gaze darkens. “The same guy who’s using you?”

You hold a smile, he still believes it.

Mike leans forward, elbows resting on the table, his eyes glinting with something cruel. “What, did he guilt you into this? Make you feel bad for his pathetic little family?”

You set your wine glass down a little too hard.

Your mother tenses. “Mike—”

But you cut her off “You don’t know a damn thing about him.” Your voice is cold, final.

He smirks “Oh, but I do.” He tilts his head, eyes flickering with mock sympathy. “You just don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” You agree, voice like steel. “Because it’s bullshit.”

Mike’s smirk drops.

Your father sighs “Enough.”

But Mike isn’t finished “You can dress him up however you want, YN,” he sneers. “But at the end of the day? He’s just a pathetic loser clinging to your last name.”

Your hands curl into fists.

“And you,” He continues, voice lowering, “Are a complete idiot for falling for it.”

The air is thick with silence.

Your mother exhales, rubbing her temples “Mike, we’re eating.”

Your father levels him with a stare “Your attitude is getting out of hand.”

He laughs, pushing his plate away “Yeah? Well, so is hers.” He stands, chair scraping against the floor. “You can let yourself get used like a fucking idiot if you want,” He says, voice dripping with disgust. “Just don’t expect me to sit here and watch.”

He storms off, leaving the room in tense silence. Your parents exchange a tired look. You take another sip of wine, heartbeat hammering in your chest.

From the hallway, someone is listening.

Dann.

And her guilt grows.

✮ ⋆

The Clarke mansion is quiet, the weight of dinner’s tension still lingering in the air. The staff moves about their business in silence, avoiding eye contact, as if sensing that something dark is simmering beneath the surface.

Dann, however, isn’t moving.

She’s frozen just outside the dining room, her mind replaying everything she just overheard. The way Mike spat his words at you, the venom in his voice, the sheer hatred he had for her—all because she had helped someone he despised.

Because you had made a choice that wasn’t about him.

Dann swallows hard, guilt gnawing at her insides like a slow poison. She should feel relieved that you had fought back—that for once, someone had shut Mike down. But all she feels is fear.

Because if he could talk to his own sister like that, what was stopping him from turning on her?

The thought chills her. She should leave. She should go to her room and pretend none of this is her problem. But before she can move a hand grabs her wrist.

She whirls around, heart slamming against her ribs, only to come face to face with him.

Mike.

The air leaves her lungs. His grip isn’t tight—not yet—but it’s firm enough to send pure terror coursing through her veins.

“You,” He murmurs, his voice dangerously low. His eyes are sharp, scanning her face like she’s something rotten beneath his shoe.

Dann tries to pull away, but his fingers tighten, his hold turning bruising.

“M-Mike,” She stammers, forcing a nervous laugh. “What’s—what’s wrong?”

His lips curl into a cold smirk “You tell me.”

Dann swallows, willing herself to stay calm “I don’t—”

“Did you know?” His voice cuts through the air like a blade.

Dann stiffens “Know… what?”

Mike leans in, his breath hot against her skin. “About Hongjoong’s father working for my family.”

“I—”

His grip tightens “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dann.”

“I didn’t know!” She blurts out, panic creeping into her voice. “I swear, I—I had no idea—”

His jaw ticks. He’s not buying it “You’ve been avoiding me,” He murmurs, his tone almost thoughtful. “Ever since that night.”

Dann goes rigid.

That night.

The night he put his hands on you.

The night she realized just how much of a monster he truly was.

“I haven’t—”

His fingers suddenly clamp around her arm, and he pulls her forward, dragging her through the hallway. Dann yelps, stumbling after him, fear clawing at her throat.

“Where are we—?”

“Somewhere private,” He cuts her off smoothly.

Her stomach twists. The deeper into the house they go, the quieter it becomes. The staff is gone. There’s no one to see them. No one to stop him.

No one to help her.

Mike finally shoves open a door that leads to the back garden, a secluded area far from the main house. The night air is cold, but the way he looks at her sends a different kind of chill through her bones.

Dann stumbles back, chest heaving, trying to create space. “Mike, I—”

“You think I don’t see it?” He says, voice eerily calm. “You think I don’t know you’re hiding something from me?”

Dann shakes her head, heart pounding “I swear I didn’t know about it. I would have told you!”

And it was true, she didn't know about Hongjoong’s father working for your family. But Mike just stares at her. Studying her.

Then he laughs.

A low, quiet chuckle that makes her skin crawl.

“Look at you,” He murmurs. “Fucking shaking.”

Dann flinches.

Mike steps closer, towering over her “I don’t like when people keep secrets from me, Dann,” He murmurs, voice like poison.

Dann’s chest tightens.

This is it.

This is the moment.

She can keep playing his game. Keep letting him control her. Keep living in fear.

Or she can do what she should have done weeks ago.

Her fingers curl into fists. She lifts her head, her cheek still burning, and looks him dead in the eyes.

“You’re a fucking coward.”

Mike freezes.

Dann’s pulse roars in her ears. Her own words shock her. But once they’re out, she can’t stop.

“You think you’re so powerful,” She breathes, voice shaking but growing stronger. “You think everyone should be afraid of you. But deep down, you’re just pathetic.”

Mike’s jaw clenches. Dann forces herself to smile. It’s small, shaky, but it’s there.

And for the first time in weeks, she feels powerful. Because she can see it.

For just a fraction of a second, his smirk drops and before she can react—

His hand swings.

The impact is sharp, brutal. Dann’s head snaps to the side, a gasp catches in her throat. The sting spreads across her cheek like fire, her vision blurring from the sheer shock.

Her body locks up.

She can’t breathe.

She can’t move.

Dann’s heart is pounding so loudly it drowns out the quiet.

Mike’s handprint burns on her cheek, the sting radiating through her skull, but the real pain isn’t physical.

It’s the terror.

The realization that she pushed him too far. The garden is empty, secluded—the perfect place for a nightmare. And Mike?

He looks like he’s enjoying it.

His lips curve into a slow smirk as he watches her struggle to catch her breath, her fingers trembling at her sides.

‘You’re a fucking coward.’

The words still hang in the air, and Dann knows she’s signed her own death sentence.

Mike’s expression darkens. His posture stiffens. And then he laughs.

Low. Amused. Cruel.

“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” His voice is quiet, almost mocking.

Dann stays silent. She knows better than to answer. But he doesn’t need her to. He steps forward, closing the space between them, and she flinches instinctively.

His smirk widens “Cute. You think you’re brave now, don’t you?”

Dann swallows hard “I—”

“Shut up,” He cuts her off. The amusement vanishes, replaced with something far colder.

His gaze sweeps over her, calculating, dissecting—like he’s deciding exactly how to break her.

“I bet you think you have nothing to lose,” He murmurs. “That you can just walk away from this and be fine.”

Dann’s breathing falters.

That tone. That deadly calm.

It’s worse than when he’s yelling. Because when Mike speaks like this—he means it.

“I could ruin your mother in a second,” He continues, voice smooth, effortless. “She works for my family. She needs this job. And you?” His head tilts slightly. “You need her to keep it. To pay for your father’s hospital bills.”

Dann’s stomach twists violently.

He knows.

He knows.

“How did you—?” Her voice catches.

Mike chuckles “You think I don’t do my research?” His expression turns mocking. “Your poor, pitiful father, lying there in a hospital bed, while your mother slaves away to keep him alive. And you? You run around playing spy for me, all because you wanted some nerd to look your way.”

Dann feels sick. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

“Leave them out of this,” She whispers.

“Oh? Now you care?” Mike exhales sharply, like he’s bored. “I mean, your mother’s getting old, isn’t she? I doubt she’d find another job if something were to… happen to her position.”

Dann’s lungs seize. And then, the final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, and your father?” Mike clicks his tongue. “A vegetable in a hospital bed, wasting away.” His tone is almost mocking. “How long has it been? Three years?”

Dann’s entire body locks up. Because he’s right.

Three years.

Three years of her mother breaking her back to keep him alive. Three years of Dann doing everything she could to ease the burden.

Three years of hoping. That maybe, one day, her father would wake up.

Mike’s voice cuts through the fog of her fear “I could make that bed disappear, you know.”

Dann stares at him, eyes wide.

“I mean, think about it.” He shrugs. “What’s the point of keeping someone around who isn’t even awake? The doctors must be tired of keeping him alive. And your mother? Imagine how relieved she’d be if she didn’t have to worry about hospital bills anymore.”

Dann’s breathing turns shallow. Her fingers dig into her skin so hard they might leave bruises. Mike leans back, watching her come undone.

Then he smiles “And as for you?” He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “I can make sure you don’t even finish school.”

Dann’s heart drops, his smirk is gone now, his eyes cold and merciless.

“You think my family doesn’t have connections in the education system?” He scoffs. “All it takes is one phone call. One simple request. And suddenly, your scholarship? Gone. Your grades? Suspiciously altered. Your teachers? Unwilling to recommend you for any other school.”

Dann freezes, because he’s not bluffing. This isn’t an empty threat.

This is real.

Her entire future—her mother’s future—her father’s life—all hanging by a single thread. And Mike?

He’s holding the scissors.

“You don’t want that, do you? So, tell me, Dann.” His voice softens, but the cruelty behind it only makes it worse. “Are you still on my side?”

Dann’s lips part, but no words come out.

She should scream. She should fight back.

She should run.

But instead—She nods.

Because she has no choice.

Because she’s afraid.

Because her father’s life is hanging in the balance.

And because she’s not ready to lose everything.

Mike’s smirk returns “Good girl.”

And just like that—it’s over. He pats her cheek mockingly before stepping back.

“You know what to do.” His voice is smooth, assured, like he’s never once considered the possibility of her betraying him.

Because why would he?

She’s trapped.

Dann watches as he walks away, leaving her frozen in the garden, hands trembling, chest tight.

Her father, her mother, her entire life.

Mike owns all of it.

Tears blur her vision as she wraps her arms around herself, body wracked with silent shame.

She wants to do the right thing.

But survival?

It comes first

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Taglist: @mrskill2 @stayatinykatsy @badbitch69420sworld @lunaryoongie @certifiedmoa @jilxxasu @alliecoady98 @maidens-world @Lemonkait00 @yulsr @justconniez @luvvvash @zaynsfl4m3s @nkryuki @boomzen @hurryupmars @silenttrxxs @blue5ummer @khaskl08 @unbroken-shadows @vnxlla @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @milliesupremexx @xh01bri @a-atiny_niawoo @winterstuf @domfikeluva @lezleeferguson-120 @beabatiny @yothangie @lover-of-fics @mingipessego @posseup @0407files @cheolright @nyx-y @yeorisanaxox @innocygnet @a-tiny-thing @sannieily @maplelilly05 @ddeonugu @niaee @yunhogrippers @itzyejiluv @sannieworshipper @m0onchild-98 @l0vjoongie

☆○☆○☆

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

So, this is what you meant when you said their powers are going to be explained next chapter. Now I’m assuming it’s only ateez that has powers unless somehow other groups have them.

This definitely is a twist I wasn’t expecting i’m very excited to see what happens. <3

| 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter Two

Mafia!Ot8!Ateez x female!reader

Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.

Warnings: mxm relationship, death, murder, mentions of being burned at the stake, tragic backstory, violence.

WC: 2k

Amazing Help: @potatomountain

AU: Mafia/?

Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

Tags: Tags: @xomakara @jedi-dreea @beabatiny @ateezaddict24 @spenceatiny18 @18fernanda @prodsh00ky @evercodeee @yizhou-time @smally97 @eshia-16 @daniela-f-uwu @peachyy-joonie @butterfliesinthenightsky @dassmyname @unlikelysublimekryptonite @dollinno @stay-tiny-things @joongscheese @misskarynie @monstacheol @yeosangcutie0615 @mariaa @pinuspot @amphiroxx @kitten4sannie tags to be continued.

A/N: This series isn’t what you thought it’d be huh? Hehehe

Taglist Link

500 years ago, Kim Hongjoong stumbled upon a dirty and old shrine. Bruised, bloody, and broken.

He begged the silent deity for help, tears cascading down his nearly broken jaw. A miracle he could still talk. His broken fingers dropped all of the coins he had to offer onto the shrine. He continued to beg for help and prayed to the God but he got no answer.

His body could no longer sustain his energy and he collapsed onto the wet ground. Hongjoong knew this was the end and he didn’t want to die like this.

Hongjoong let out one more scream before the light faded and he passed out from his injuries. No longer able to stay present.

To die for loving the wrong person. He would never change it, even if this was his death.

The deity appeared out of thin air and stared down at the almost corpse on his sacred ground. He couldn’t help but shake his head.

“Humans and their violence. Wake up, boy. I will not have you die on my holy shrine.” The deity pressed two fingers to Hongjoong’s head and he awoke with a gasp for air.

“You..Thank you.” Hongjoong tried to sit up but his ribs and other miscellaneous injuries screamed at him to stop. How he is still alive is baffling. The deity thought of him as a fighter for surviving this long with the extent of his injuries.

“Why have you come to my shrine, why do you seek my help, human?”

“Because I don’t want to die. I need to live for Seonghwa, but his family won’t let me see him anymore. They’re the reason I’m like this. They tried to kill me but I got away.” Hongjoong was able to sit up with the help of the deity, who only frowned at his words.

“Love? That’s a strong reason to fight for your life.” He admired that. A lot. He missed his love life.

“Do you want revenge, human?”

“What? I- I..yes. I do. I shouldn’t be tortured or killed for loving another man.” Hongjoong truly loves Park Seonghwa of the noble Park family. He hated Seonghwa’s face and screams when he was getting the shit beaten from him.

Hongjoong hated the Park family for trying to kill him in front of his lover. He wanted them dead. He wanted to steal away Hwa and live in the mountains away from the rest of this cruel humanity.

“Very well. I can feel your anger, human. I will grant you your revenge but it comes at a cost.” The deity crossed his arms before speaking once again, “You must take my powers and my status. You will be a God instead. Only then I’ll finally be free of this torture of living forever.”

Hongjoong was confused, “Wait, you’re willing just to give up everything? For me?”

“Believe it or not, I was once in love just like you. I was born a God, they were born a human. It was agony watching them die and I’m ready to be with them. But you must take it from me.” The deity held out his hand, a glow emitting from it. It was so inviting.

Hongjoong furrowed his eyebrows before quickly grasping the deity's hand. A scream emitted from their longs as the power was transferred to Hongjoong.

Nothing else was said as the deity faded into nothing but dust.

Hongjoong could feel the power coursing within him. Each wound and broken bone was immediately healed and he felt a strange sense of longing. He knew it was for his lover down in the village. He could only hope he was still alive and not locked up in a cell by his family. Or worse, being forced to marry someone very fast.

Hongjoong didn’t care. He was going to kill them alone and take Seonghwa away with him.

One quick flash and he was standing in front of the Park residence. The guards screamed at him and ran towards him to finish the job they tried to do earlier. They failed and were flung to opposite sides. Hongjoong made them disappear as if they never existed and marched his way in, blasting the doors open with just an open palm.

Screams were heard from inside. Good. They should be scared.

“You! How are you still alive!” It was Seonghwa’s father. No matter, he was swiped against a wall with a flick of a wrist.

“Peasant.” Hongjoong spat at the man’s now broken body.

Seonghwa’s mother screamed in absolute horror, “Geo-“ Dead. Hongjoong broke her spine with yet another gesture.

Seonghwa’s older brother ran out to be by his dead parents and to fight Hongjoong. It was pointless. Hongjoong killed him too. Nothing was going to stop him from finding his lover.

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong called out as he stepped over multiple corpses. He ripped his bloodied hanbok and threw the pieces to the ground, they were pointless.

He couldn’t find Seonghwa anywhere. Fuck. They must’ve locked him up. That angered him much further. Hongjoong left the residence ablaze once he stepped out of the threshold. Villagers who saw the massacre stayed out of Hongjoong’s way. Now terrified of the man.

A good choice.

The new deity made his way to the village's cells. Once he gets his man, this whole town will be gone. He wasn’t going to leave anyone alive. Not after they all sat around and let Hongjoong and Seonghwa be separated.

With the cells in site, the guards were slaughtered and he burst open the gates, each criminal ran out of their cells in fear but Seonghwa remained. He knew his lover came back for him. He didn’t care how.

Seonghwa was just happy Hongjoong was alive.

“Hongjoong!” The noble ran out of his cell and into Hongjoong’s arms, “How are you alive?”

His lover only laughed, “I’ll tell you later, for now we must leave this place. We don’t belong here.” Hongjoong kissed Seonghwa with such fever that he refused to separate for several moments.

They left the village hand in hand. Hongjoong didn’t even bother to look back when he set everything ablaze, leaving nothing to save itself. He got his revenge and much more. Nothing was going to separate them ever again. Ever.

-

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa, both now immortals, faced the earth and its challenges together. They hid in the mountains away from the humans to maintain their happiness and peace. Hongjoong had gave Seonghwa powers to protect himself. Powers that matched their invisible tie to each other. He honed abilities from the planet. Elemental.

Seonghwa maintained a garden that he took care of with his new powers. The animals in the forest kept him company when Hongjoong had to leave to Deity Overworld, now that he’s a god.

One day, Seonghwa heard a blood curdling scream and chanting coming down the mountain. Hongjoong was gone so that couldn’t be him.

Seonghwa set down the white rabbit in his lap and marched down the hill, carefully treading.

Once he made it past the clearing, he found a big man strung up to a post, men and women surrounding it with torches. Seonghwa knew what it was immediately. A witch trial.

Humans are so cruel to anything different.

Just as they were about to light him aflame, Seonghwa cleared his throat, “I suggest you let him down or there will be consequences. I don’t take innocent bloodshed lightly.”

The people whipped their heads toward the newfound voice, “Excuse me? How dare you threaten us. Are you a witch too?” A man poked Seonghwa’s chest with a pitchfork.

He didn’t like that. Without moving, the ground swallows the man whole, “Anyone want to go next?”

The humans screamed in fear and ran away, not wanting to die.

The man on the post had been crying, thankful to be saved. Why did he have to be scorned for practicing a non harmful craft?

“It’s okay, I’ve got you now.” Seonghwa cut the ropes that held the man high, “Careful.” He caught him as he fell, “What’s your name? I’m Seonghwa.” A beautiful smile stretched his cheeks as he kept the man warm.

“Yunho. Jeong Yunho. Thank you for saving me. I’m forever in your debt.” Yunho’s large hands grasped Seonghwa’s in desperation, “I don’t know how to even begin to thank you.”

Seonghwa shook his head, “You don’t need to. What the humans are doing is harmful. You don’t deserve to die, Yunho. Come with me. I’ve got somewhere to keep you safe.”

-

“Um, Seonghwa, who is this?” Hongjoong appeared from a mist into the living room, confusion smeared on his features.

Yunho jumped, nearly screaming in his spot, still jumpy from earlier.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Seonghwa was quick to comfort the big man, “This is Yunho, he was about to be burned at the stake for witchcraft..I just couldn’t let that happen.”

Hongjoong melted at his words. One of the many reasons he fell for Seonghwa. His selflessness and care for others beside himself.

“I see, well, make sure he has somewhere to stay warm and rest. I’m sure it was stressful.” Hongjoong smiled and walked to his bedroom, exhausted from traveling between worlds.

Yunho smiled to himself and held the blanket close to his body, “You two are very kind. Thank you for the hospitality.”

“So, tell me, Yunho. Do you have anyone?” Seonghwa carefully sat beside Yunho, caution on his features.

“Ah, no. I don’t. It’s just me. I suppose that’s why it was so easy for me to be found by those villagers.” He could never return to his home. Not if he wanted to live.

“Well, I have a proposition for you then, Mr. Yunho, how would you like to live forever without having to worry about being burned alive?” Seonghwa offered with such nonchalance.

Yunho was in shock. What was he saying?

“Huh?”

“Look, Hongjoong and I are immortal. Hongjoong is a god and he gave me immortality to be with him forever. I want to give you that now. I know you could use it for the good in your heart.” The former noble was serious in every sense, “Of course, I’d have to talk to Hongjoong but I want to give you that offer.”

“I just thought you were also a witch honestly.” Yunho laughed.

“Well, no, but still.” Seonghwa stood back up, “I’ll let you think about it but I’m going to go speak to Hongjoong about this.”

-

“You’re an immortal now, how do you feel, Yunho?” Seonghwa grinned, Hongjoong’s arm around his waist.

The new immortal couldn’t help but cry as fire emitted from his palms, “I..I’m so happy.” Of course the fire was a bonus. Now he could make everyone pay that tried to burn him alive.

“Be careful with that ability, Yunho, I know what you’re thinking. I can hear everything. If you do not tread my warnings carefully, I can take it all from you without breaking a sweat. So don’t test me.” Hongjoong was stern but he knew Yunho wouldn’t break his trust. It was like he had a golden retriever that followed his every demand and order.

After all, this was just the beginning of a big tale to come.

“I will, thank you, Hongjoong.”

The three men would continue to live in harmony for decades. In peace and tranquillity. They never had to worry about another human trying to kill them and Hongjoong helped Yunho and Seonghwa hone their abilities. He was going to shape them into beasts. A small army if you will.

Nothing was going to stop him from being who he was meant to be.

They lived their lives on a pirate ship that sailed the ocean, that Hongjoong had stolen, becoming the new feared pirate crew for years to come.

He had to grow this team and he had to use the abilities he was given.

Yunho made them a fourth member. A living doll but with a human body. His name is Kang Yeosang and he’s another immortal. His abilities are unknown as he’s still getting accustomed to being a living doll. Made from dark magic.

Again, this was only the beginning for this forming team.

They’re only going to get stronger.

𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎

𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝙱𝚢 𝙿𝟷𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚁𝚊 𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚊, 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗"

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝙻𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎

𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝙾𝚗𝚎

𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝚃𝚠𝚘 𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝚂𝚒𝚡 𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎 𓆉 𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜: 𝚃𝚎𝚗

First chapter and I already love it! Excited for the next part! <3

| 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter One

Mafia!Ot8!Ateez x Female!Reader

Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight Parental Abuse, kidnapping, mental breakdown, MDNI

My Thankful Help: @potatomountain @kitten4sannie @rems-writing

WC: 1.7k

AU: Mafia

Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AN: This chapter is under 2k because as I said, the first chapter would be short.

Tags: @xomakara @jedi-dreea @beabatiny @ateezaddict24 @spenceatiny18 @18fernanda @prodsh00ky @evercodeee @yizhou-time @smally97 @eshia16 @daniela-f-uwu @peachyy-joonie @butterfliesinthenightsky @dassmyname @unlikelysublimekryptonite @dollinno @stay-tiny-things @joongscheese @misskarynie @monstacheol @yeosangcutie0615 @mariaa @pinuspot @amphiroxx

@hyukssunflower @witchbxtch0701 If I cannot tag you, please fix your settings.

“Dad, please, this is all I have left!” Y/N’s dad didn’t care, he snatched the few bills she clenched in her palms, then shoved her to the floor.

“I don’t care. I need it more, you brat.”

Her father left her on the cold hard floor without another thought as he exited her home.

This all started five years ago, when her mother died and her father became a huge gambling addict. Every bit of death insurance money that was left for their daughter was stolen by the father for excessive spending.

Whatever, his ass can forget it.

Y/N had to return to work if she wanted to keep her home, rent and bills were definitely no joke. With a sigh and groan, she grabbed her apron and hat. As much as she hated her customers, she had a good job. It paid well and gave her a nice home: small, but nice. The best part is that it’s away from her fathers run down house.

Oh the family home..it used to be so beautiful. Y/N’s mother always kept it so extravagant and beautiful, her father actually built it for her mother. Alas, once she died, Y/N’s dad let it fall into disrepair. Holes in the floor, broken windows, no working appliances. It truly was just, not hospitable in any way shape or form.

The walk to the car was miserable, with her pockets robbed of the last cash she had, her bank account stripped clean of its currency. Y/N hated her father in these final minutes to her car, “Piece of shit, hate his ass.”

Her car struggled to start, pissing her off even more. Her hands smacked against the steering wheel and she let out an agonizing scream. Tears streamed down her face that signified her further frustration. Why? Why not was her life like this? Y/N stepped out of her car with a slam of the door. Bus transposition it is. She could only count on the money she made tonight to make it back home. Her bus card only had enough for one ride.

Y/N grabbed her coat before heading back outside to the bus station, it better not be packed. Her day was already shitty and she didn’t need to be jostled around by people on the way to work.

The moment she stepped onto the bus and scanned her card, only then could she breathe a sigh of relief. There was no one on the bus which gave her momentary tranquility. A peaceful silence if you must.

After the jostling bus ride and arriving to work, Y/N prepared for a long day ahead of her. Hopefully having no shitty customers and ending the day with a good pay.

She needs it.

About six hours later, she was clocked out of work with some cash in her pocket, she had made about one hundred and twenty four dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get her home and maybe something ordered to eat. Tomorrow's payment would have to go to rent no matter what. She absolutely cannot afford to be homeless.

It had turned dark outside on the way home which she didn’t mind but alas, men. She never had to worry about that but she still worried regardless.

With her home in sight, she let out another sigh of relief and stepped inside. Why was it so dark? She knows she left the lights on. She was sure she left them on. Y/N was about to bolt when hands grabbed her and the lights turned on.

Three men resided in her home entrance and she panicked, “Who the hell are you people and why are you in my home?” She tried her hardest to break away from the man’s hold, she couldn’t see what they looked like and that scared her.

A short one with orange hair pushed himself off the couch with a frown, “You’re not Mark..” His face grew cold, “Might I ask who you are instead?”

Y/N could only scowl before giving in, “I’m his daughter. What do you want with my father?”

“Well, you see, he owes us a hefty bit of money. He listed this place as his home but he’s not here. Do you know where he is?” He came face to face with the girl as he scanned her body up and down. Quite the specimen indeed, he thought.

Y/N shook her head, “Why the hell would I know where that deadbeat is? He’s nothing but trouble and continues to steal my money.”

This made the man laugh, the others stiffening.

“Oh, yeah, sounds just like him.” He thought for a moment before nodding to himself, “Well, guess we’re gonna have to take you instead! Maybe we can lure him out with you.”

Before she could protest and scream for help, something was bashed against her head and she fell to the floor in a blackout.

Time flew by quickly.

The moment she woke up, she realized she was in a cell, her body wrapped in a tight rope and her legs barred together tightly.

Y/N began to cry, of course her father would get her in this situation. What a dickweed.

A light quickly flashed into the dark room, someone stepped in.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” The voice was monotone, “Captain wants to see you.” The sounds of keys jingling rattled her ears, swearing she had a concussion.

She was quickly yanked up and taken outside of the cell, “Do not attempt to flee, I will just shove you back in there with nothing to eat.”

Y/N gave in and let him take her upstairs. She was astonished by his beauty once they reached the light. No, no, do not think that way, she thought to herself. She was kidnapped.

She was taken to a room that was secluded from the rest, chandeliers lining the hallway as she walked, well, was forced down. Still, a beautiful place that astonished her.

Once she was shoved into the room and the door slammed behind her, only then could she look up from where she fell.

The other man stood up from his seat and helped her stand up, “I told you to be gentle, Jongho. Follow my orders next time or you know damn well what happens.”

“Yes, Hongjoong, sir, I’m sorry.” The voice spoke from behind the girl.

This guy was the boss?

“I’m Hongjoong, I’m the leader of ateez and you’re in our home. You can thank your father for that.” Hongjoong gently brought Y/N to a seat and sat her down, sending shivers down her spine.

“What do I have to do with my father? He’s not going to rescue me. He only cares about his money.” He didn’t like those words but quickly gathered his cool.

“No matter, fathers always come back if they want to escape our wrath.” Hongjoong cleared his throat before he stood up once more, “You’ll be staying with us until he makes an appearance or pays us back.”

She knew neither was going to happen. She’d be stuck here forever until the day she died.

Tears lined her eyes as she tried to fight them back, “Then you should just kill me.”

Hongjoong laughed in such a maniacal way that it scared Y/N, “I won’t be doing that either, you’re too pretty to kill. I like you.” He wasn’t sending any red flags but still, he scared Y/N.

“Fine.”

“Good girl. Jongho, take her to the room I had prepared and have the maids clean her up and feed her.” With a wave of his hand, Y/N was back to being yanked around, “Be gentle, dammit!” His fist smacked against the desk and Jongho was frightened once more, being more careful than he had before.

When the two of them were out of sight, Jongho was harsh once again, “I don’t like you. I don’t see why Captain has such an interest in you, I would’ve just killed you if I was in his position.”

Y/N couldn’t say anything, she was too scared, too afraid to die in all honesty. She could only wonder what would happen to her home, her job, everything she had. Would she just be reported as missing? What would happen? Would anyone even care?

“You’ll be staying in here.” She was shoved into a room once again but maids rushed to her this time, helping her to the bed, almost as if they were also afraid of Hongjoong.

She didn’t blame them.

Y/N didn’t even fight back, she let them undress her, too hollow of shell at the moment. They led her to a prepared bath, it was..big. Too big.

They helped her inside and began washing her body before she shouted, “I can do it myself, thank you.” The maids didn’t scamper off unfortunately.

“We’re so sorry, but Mr Kim wants us doing this. We have to.” They spoke with such a frightening tone, almost as if they were gonna get their heads chopped off on a stand.

They scrubbed her body with such ease and care, not wanting to hurt the girl. Too scared to do so. Then again, they haven’t had another girl in the house in so long. It was nice.

Once they were done, they had her step out, drying and dressing her in a gown. Something she normally would never wear, alas she has no choice unfortunately. If this is what the man wanted her to wear then so be it.

The several maids took their leave for a moment and Y/N took that as her chance to escape. She bolted out of the bathroom, out of the room, then into the hallway. Her heavy breaths carried her in a panic, but what she didn’t expect was to run in a hard chest.

Y/N screamed in defeat as they grabbed her tight. She recognized the hold as the person who captured her home.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” The voice snickered in such a mimicking tone, “Mm, captain is gonna love to hear about this.”

Y/N stared up into his eyes, yet another beautiful man and this one was definitely tall.

“You do look delicious.” However, he shrugged and dragged her back into the room, “I’m Mingi, though, next time you try to escape, I won’t be so lenient.” The door was slammed as Mingi left her in the cold and dark room once more.

Y/N could only cry as she came to the conclusion she was never leaving this place.

Ever.

Ahhhhh, I love it! I love it! I love it! I’m just smiling at my phone over words, but it just so sweet!

I’m now craving some italian.

Hi, congrats on 300 followers. I have a prompt request for the celebration. I would like to request a one-shot of jongseob with the prompt from sweet "smiling during kisses".

I would also like to add that the reader be gender neutral. congratulations again on 300 followers! 🎉

hihi! thank you so much for participating, and sorry for the late, hope you like it <3 ; 1k wc ; fluff ; first time writing for soeb aaaa ; and credits to my fav proofreader @sobun1est

300 followers event 🎀

You notice the light of the candles as soon as you open the door of your house, taking the first step inside your apartment.

“I’m home!” you said.

Shortly after, called by your voice, you noticed Jongseob coming out of his room to come and welcome you.

That day was your anniversary; one year had passed since you had confessed your tender love and the "roommate" label had turned into lovers. You had just returned from the small pastry shop where you worked in the afternoons to save up for your studies, and with you, you had a large plastic bag containing your boyfriend’s favorite cake.

Although neither of you was swimming in gold, you were happy with your flat. So you gradually decorated it and created a small home with all the amenities you could want.

“Welcome back, honey” he said to you, coming closer to steal a kiss from you and helping with the bags.

While he went to put the cake in the refrigerator you moved towards the small room, from where a soft light came.

As soon as you entered, you noticed that many candles were placed throughout the room, and in the center, there was a carefully set table. The window was wide open, and the view was of the city illuminated by the few lights of the night.

On the table there were two glasses, and next to them a bottle of your favorite wine. The plates had light red and gold decorations, and the tablecloth and napkins followed that theme.

There was also your record player, who carefully selected the records that had accompanied your evenings throughout that year.

“Do you remember our first date?” the boy asked you as he entered the room.

“When we shared pizza, sitting on this sofa while we tried to guess about the lives of the passers-by under this balcony? How could I forget?” you asked him.

He nodded and moved in your direction, seemingly unable to resist his desire to be by you.

He took your face in his hands and soon joined your lips in a long kiss.

“How about we create a remix, maybe with a slight upgrade?” he asked you, looking you directly in the eyes.

“I would love it,” he replied, smiling.

Everything at that moment brought back memories of the first date, when after a year of living together, since you attended the same university, that boy had come forward to ask you to be together.

“Happy anniversary Seob”

“You too, love” he replied.

During your first date, while you were waiting for the food to come, the two of you sat on the couch. You could only gaze lovingly at Jongseob's slim physique as he was focused on the task at hand—he had stood up to begin the vinyl recordings.

During the first date, you were waiting for the pizza to be delivered, while now you were waiting for the lasagna - entirely cooked by Jongseob - to cook in the oven!

You had once expressed how much you would have liked to taste Italian food, so that's why he chose it for dinner.

He had carefully chosen the order of the music records to listen to, as he had presented them to you during your year together.

To ensure that everything looked its best in your eyes, he had even asked his mother to lend him some of the dish set that she had used for her wedding.

He had discovered your favorite flavor in candles, and in his pocket, he had a crumpled piece of paper with a short poem that he wanted to recite to you.

Now he was sitting next to you on the couch and was following the moves of the first date step by step. He had counted how many times your eyes had crossed, but like the first time, he had gotten lost in your eyes and had opted for a more direct approach.

He had turned to you while you were watching him the whole time - noticing how his face was bright and how he had changed in a year. You vividly remembered all the features of his face and how his expression had gone from full concentration to complete disorientation as soon as he had looked at you.

And now everything was happening again: your eyes had met, and the butterflies in your stomach had started to dance.

He had soon come dangerously close and had canceled the distances. Neither of you could hold back a smile, remembering your first kiss while you were living the umpteenth. Many quick kisses alternated with passionate ones while your bodies also got closer.

You took a brief break to let out some lovely laughs that blended in with the background music like they were the melody itself.

Smiles between the kisses, comforting scents, and the warmth of the bodies that united.

He had moved his hand from behind your neck to your hips- oh how he had become bolder.

You were facing him and found it difficult to keep your eyes closed, so now and again when he drew you away, you gave him a tiny peek.

You loved so much seeing that boy's face up close.

With an awkward and hesitant smile, he looked so attractive with the candles lighting him.

The first time you had been interrupted by the arrival of the delivery boy, while this time by a strange burning smell that began to spread from the kitchen.

As soon as it hit your boyfriend's nostrils, his eyes widened and he suddenly stood up.

"THE LASAGNA!" he said as he ran towards the kitchen.

You giggled as you moved to go and check it out too.

As soon as you arrived in the kitchen you saw him wearing two pink skates and an apron of the same color, as he took the lasagna out of the oven. He hadn't even taken the time to turn on the light, the light of the candles was enough; but he had chosen to wear the apron to avoid dirtying the outfit he had worked on to impress you.

Luckily the lasagna wasn’t burnt, but on the contrary, it had acquired a light crunchy crust that had made that dish even better.

You found yourselves shortly after at the table, savoring that delicious food while you remembered the times gone by, shared moments of the present, and fantasized about future experiences.

Dude…let’s kill Mike

I’M SICK OF THIS MAN I SWEAR!

CHAPTER STARTED OFF SO CUTE WITH READER AND HONGJOONG GOING ON A DATE AND NOW I CAN FEEL IT SENSE THAT JOONG GONNA SHOW UP AT A DIFFERENT VENUE AND READER GONNA BE UPSET AHHHHHHHH

We need to kill Mike we gotta stop him i’m so serious i need reader or someone to hit him if future chapters preferably i want reader to hit him

moving on, I’m excited for the next part even thought it’s literally titled "the first breakdown" and i just know i’m gonna feel sad for reader more than I already do especially after this chapter

keep up the amazing work! <3

Popular, Boy

☆06: The first move.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 10,8k

Summary: You and Hongjoong grow closer, but in your world, trust is a dangerous thing. Mike's cruelty lingers, and in the shadows, a plan unfolds... One designed to break you.

Break your heart, and make you question everything... especially Hongjoong.

Warnings: Verbal abuse, past trauma (?), power dynamics, fluff, suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆05 ☆07: The first breakdown.

The low rumble of the engine fills the quiet evening air as you glance out the window. The car is nothing like the sleek, expensive vehicles sitting in your family’s garage. It’s modest, a little old, and the faint smell of worn leather lingers in the air.

“You borrowed this from your dad?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you turn to Hongjoong.

He shrugs, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a mix of focus and nervousness. “Yeah. Figured it’s better than taking the bus.”

The bus? Hell no, you have never been in one and you hope it never happens.

You glance at him, a small, amused smirk playing on your lips. The whole thing is… endearing in a way you don’t expect.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You cross your legs and adjust your pink leather jacket.

“Nope.” His lips quirk into a smile, but he keeps his eyes on the road “Just sit back and enjoy the ride, pretty.”

You roll your eyes but don’t press further. There’s something about his excitement that keeps your curiosity piqued.

When the car finally comes to a stop, you step out and immediately catch the sound of distant laughter and the faint scent of fried food in the air. Turning toward the neon-lit entrance ahead, your brows knit together.

“An amusement park?” Your voice is tinged with surprise.

Hongjoong steps around to your side, his hands in his pockets and a slightly nervous look on his face.

“You said you’d never been to one, so…” He gestures toward the brightly lit rides.

You glance down at your outfit—high heel boots, a sleek skirt, and your leather jacket—then back at him.

“And you didn’t think to mention that I might want to dress for this?”

He grins, his nervousness fading into a playful confidence “You’ll be fine. You look beautiful and you could rock a runway in a park if you wanted to.”

You shake your head, unable to suppress a smile “Fine. Lead the way.”

The ticket booth is up ahead, and you instinctively reach for your purse, already accustomed to paying for yourself—and for others. But before you can even unzip it, Hongjoong steps forward, pulling out his wallet.

“Two adults, please.” He says, handing over the cash.

You blink, momentarily stunned. People don’t usually pay for you. They just assume you’ll foot the bill, given your family’s wealth. But here Hongjoong is, without hesitation, handling everything.

“Thanks.” You say, your voice softer than usual.

He shoots you a small, reassuring smile “It’s a date, isn’t it?”

The park is alive with energy—bright lights, music, and the unmistakable hum of excitement in the air. You’re not sure what to expect, but as the night unfolds, you find yourself swept up in the moment.

Hongjoong pulls you from ride to ride, his enthusiasm contagious. You scream on the roller coasters, laugh uncontrollably on the spinning teacups, and you surprise yourself by enjoying the bumper cars, laughing uncontrollably as Hongjoong tried—and failed—to outmaneuver you.

Hongjoong made a great effort to win a small stuffed bunny at one of the carnival games, he handed it to you with a triumphant grin.

“For you,” He says, holding it out.

“Seriously?” You ask, but there is no hiding the smile that tug at your lips “It’s so tacky.”

“Tacky but adorable, just like you.” He counters with a pretty smile.

And you find yourself clutching the fluffy bunny tightly as you continue through the park.

At the snack stand, you try to insist on paying, but Hongjoong beats you to it again, handing over the cash before you can protest.

“You’re really committed to this, huh?” You tease.

He shrugs, offering you a bag of popcorn “I like treating you. You’re worth it.”

The words catch you off guard, leaving a strange warmth in their wake. You look at him, the boyish grin on his face, and wonder how he can be so… genuine.

As the day turns into evening, the park’s lights flicker on, casting a magical glow over everything. You stand in line for the carousel, the soft music adding a nostalgic charm.

You climb into one of the ornate horses, your laughter echoing as Hongjoong chooses the one beside you.

“You’re having fun, admit it.” He says, his voice filled with mock accusations.

You tilt your head, a playful smirk on your lips “Maybe a little.”

The carousel begins to move, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the moment. The weight of your pride, your fears, and the persona you had carefully crafted seems to fade.

It’s just you and Hongjoong, spinning in a world that feels oddly perfect.

As the evening wears on, you realize something else—you’re having fun. Real, uncomplicated fun. It’s a feeling you’re not used to, and it’s equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

When you finally board the Ferris wheel, the city sprawls out below you, glittering in the night. The car sways gently, and Hongjoong’s arm rests casually on the back of your seat.

“You’ve been quiet,” He glances at you “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitate, your fingers toying with the hem of your jacket “I guess… I’m not used to this.”

“To what?”

“To someone doing all of this just for me.” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at you, his expression softening “You deserve it, pretty. All of it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to respond. The gnawing doubt in the back of your mind refuses to let go.

What if this isn’t real? What if he’s just playing along, trying to climb some invisible ladder to the top?

The Ferris wheel car rocks gently as it halts at the top, giving you a perfect view of the glowing amusement park below. The world feels smaller up here, the laughter and music from the park blending into a soft hum. But your focus isn’t on the view.

Hongjoong’s hand brushes against yours, hesitant yet deliberate “YN,” He begins, his voice soft but firm, breaking the fragile silence. You turn to him, caught off guard by the serious tone in his voice “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” His eyes locking onto yours “Something I should’ve said a long time ago.”

You blink, unsure of where he’s going with this “What is it?”

He exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair “Do you remember the first time we met? On the first day of college?”

You frown slightly, trying to recall “I remember you asking me for a pen and I told you not to speak to me again and get lost.” Both of you chuckle at the memory “You were… different back then.”

He smiles faintly, though there’s a sadness to it “I was, and I remember everything about that moment. How you walked into the lecture hall like you owned the place, and every single person in the room noticed you. Including me.”

You tilt your head, curious now.

“I knew I didn’t stand a chance,” He continues, his voice quiet “You were… YN. Popular, beautiful, confident—everything I wasn’t. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I guess, in some way, I thought if I could change myself, maybe you’d notice me.”

“Change yourself?” You echo, your brow furrowing.

He nods, a faint, self-deprecating chuckle escaping his lips “The clothes, the hair, trying to fit in with your world—it was all for you. Even when I begged you to make me popular, it wasn’t really about the popularity. I just wanted to be enough for you. To have a chance with you.”

His words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say.

“You hated me back then.” You murmur, though your voice lacks conviction.

“I didn’t hate you,” He says firmly, his gaze unwavering “I hated how you treated me sometimes, yeah. But I didn’t hate you. How could I, when I was in love with you?”

Your breath catches “In love with me?”

“Since that first day,” Hongjoong admits, his voice barely above a whisper “It didn’t matter that you barely knew I existed. It didn’t matter how hard it was to watch you humiliate me or use me as a punchline. I just wanted you to notice me, YN. Even if it hurts.”

A lump forms in your throat as you stare at him. His words are raw, honest, and so unlike the Kim Hongjoong you’ve grown accustomed to.

“Hongjoong…” You trail off, your voice faltering.

He shakes his head, his hand tightening around yours.

“I know how it sounds. And I get it if you don’t feel the same way. But I had to tell you. Because all of this? It’s real for me. You’re real for me.”

You feel your chest tighten, the weight of his confession pressing down on you. Part of you wants to believe him, to let yourself fall into the warmth of his feelings, but the doubts linger.

“What if…” You begin, your voice trembling “What if you’re wrong? What if this isn’t real?”

“I’m not wrong,” He says with quiet determination “And I’ll prove it to you, pretty. Every day, if I have to.”

His words stir something deep inside you, but the echoes of your brother’s voice resurface: ‘Once the thrill of the game wears off, they’ll both be exactly where they belong—crumbling.’

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the turmoil within you.

“I don’t know if I can trust this.”

Hongjoong leans closer, his eyes searching yours “You don’t have to trust it all at once. Just… let me show you. Let me prove to you that I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, you hesitate, your heart warring with your mind. But then, as if on instinct, you lean in and press your lips to his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, but then it deepens, his hands cupping your face as yours find their way to his shoulders. For a moment, the world around you disappears, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, Hongjoong’s eyes are wide, his expression filled with awe.

“Does this mean that we are…?”

“It means,” You interrupt, your voice trembling but steady “That I’m giving you a chance to prove it, then we discuss what will happen. Don’t make me regret it.”

He smiles, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and lights up his entire face.

“I won’t. I promise.”

The Ferris wheel begins to move again, but this time, as it descends, you feel lighter, the weight of your doubts momentarily lifted.

Maybe this is reckless. Maybe it’ll all fall apart. But as Hongjoong’s hand finds yours again, lacing your fingers together, you decide—for now—you’ll take the risk.

✮ ⋆

The hum of the car engine fades as Hongjoong pulls up to your family’s grand estate, its sprawling driveway illuminated by soft outdoor lighting. He steps out of the old car and quickly moves to your side, opening the door for you with a charming smile.

“Such a gentleman.”

You tease, stepping out in your heels, clutching the medium-sized plush bunny he’d won for you at the amusement park. Its soft, floppy ears brush against your arm, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, holding it makes you feel… warm.

“Well, tonight was special. You deserve the whole VIP treatment.” He quips, offering his hand to steady you.

As the two of you walk toward the front steps, the soft chill of the evening air wraps around you, but you barely notice it. The warmth of the evening lingers, and you’re not quite ready to let it go.

“I had fun tonight.” You admit, your voice softer than usual.

“Yeah?” He asks, his eyes lighting up “You’re not just saying that because I let you beat me at the ring toss, are you?”

You roll your eyes, a laugh escaping as you hug the bunny tighter.

“You didn’t let me win. I’m just naturally talented.”

Hongjoong grins, leaning slightly closer “Naturally talented, huh? I’ll remember that next time I’m getting crushed at bumper cars.”

A comfortable silence falls between you for a moment as you both reach the front door.

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” You say, turning to face him fully “For everything. I mean it.”

He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks tinged pink under the porch light. “You don’t have to thank me. I just… I wanted you to have a good time.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” You reply, your smile lingering.

The moment feels charged, like the quiet pause before a firework explodes. Slowly, he steps closer, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Goodnight, pretty.” He says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Joongie.” You reply, leaning in.

Your lips meet in a tender kiss, warm and unhurried, the kind that feels like a promise. The bunny slips slightly in your grip, but Hongjoong steadies it with a hand, his touch lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter.

When you pull back, there’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, as though he’s reluctant to leave.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” He murmurs, his hand brushing yours one last time before he turns and walks back to his car.

You watch him drive away, the sound of the engine fading into the night. For a brief moment, you stand there, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

The plush bunny in your arms feels oddly comforting, and you catch yourself smiling at the memory of him insisting on winning it for you. He’d been so focused, so determined, as though nothing else in the world mattered.

But the warmth is short-lived.

As you step inside, the soft click of your heels echoes in the dimly lit foyer. The house feels quiet, almost too quiet, and a sense of unease prickles at the back of your neck.

“Late night, huh?” You freeze. Mike’s voice cuts through the silence like a knife, cold and taunting.

He steps out from the shadows of the living room, his arms crossed, and an infuriatingly smug look on his face.

“So, did Prince Nerd sweep you off your feet?”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your composure “Go to bed, Mike. You’re not my keeper.”

He chuckles, the sound low and mocking “Oh, but it’s so entertaining watching you play house with your little project.”

You glare at him, your defenses rising “He’s not a project. And you don’t know anything about him.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, stepping closer “Don’t I? Let’s see… Hongjoong, the reformed nerd. The guy who suddenly started hanging out with the queen bee… How curious, don't you think?” Your jaw tightens, but he doesn’t stop “You think that’s love, YN? Or is it desperation?"

"Face it, dear sister. He’s obsessed with you because you’re a trophy. The queen bee who gave him the time of day. Do you really think that’ll last? Once he realizes he can’t keep up, he’ll snap back to reality. And where does that leave you?”

“Stop it,” You snap, your voice shaking slightly.

But Mike only smirks “You’re scared, aren’t you? Scared that I’m right. Scared that once the shine wears off, he’ll remember who he really is—and leave you behind.”

His words sink in like claws, dragging at the fragile hope you’d started to build tonight. You open your mouth to fire back, but the lump in your throat stops you.

Mike leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper “Enjoy the fairytale while it lasts, little sister. Because when it ends, it’s going to hurt.”

Without another word, he turns and disappears into the shadows, leaving you standing there, clutching the bunny tightly to your chest.

The warmth of Hongjoong’s kiss feels like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the weight of Mike’s cruel words.

As you climb the stairs to your room, the doubts creep in, unbidden and relentless.

You set the bunny down on your bed, its soft, innocent face staring back at you as though mocking your turmoil.

Tonight was perfect. But now, you’re not so sure how long perfect can last.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

March, 2008⋆｡

You were five years old, standing in the middle of the schoolyard with a bouquet of cheap plastic flowers and a small silver medal hanging around your neck. The other kids were swarmed by their parents, showered in hugs, kisses, and congratulations.

You stood apart, your smile faltering as you scanned the crowd again and again, hoping to find a familiar face.

But your parents never came.

By the time the babysitter arrived to take you home, the festival had already ended, and the school grounds were nearly empty. You sat quietly in the car, clutching the medal tightly in your small hands, determined not to cry.

You had worked so hard for the performance, staying late after school for weeks, practicing the routine over and over. You had wanted your parents to see you, to be proud of you.

When you finally got home, the house was dark. Your parents weren’t there, of course. They had told you that morning that they might be "a little late," but you hadn’t realized it meant missing the entire festival.

The babysitter gave you a sympathetic smile before heading upstairs. You sat at the dining table, the silver medal still around your neck, as you stared at the empty chairs where your parents should’ve been.

It wasn’t until late at night that you heard the front door open. You rushed downstairs, your little heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

Your parents entered, followed by your eight-year-old brother, Mike, who was holding a shiny trophy in his hands.

“Look at this, first place!” Mike boasted, raising the trophy high.

“We’re so proud of you, Mike.” Your mother said, ruffling his hair.

“Mommy, Daddy,” You began hesitantly, clutching her medal “You missed my dance festival.”

Your parents glanced at you briefly, their smiles faltering for just a moment.

“Oh, honey, we’re so sorry,” Your father said, though his tone was distracted “But Mike had his soccer game today, and his team won! It was such an important match.”

“I won too. I won second place, look.” You said quietly, holding up your medal with a smile.

You looked between your parents, hoping for a flicker of pride, of recognition.

Mike snorted “Second place? That’s just the first loser, YN.”

Your cheeks burned, and your grip on the medal tightened “It’s still good,” You muttered.

The oldest exchanged a quick look before your mother knelt down in front of you.

“That's incredible, sweetie. We’re sorry we couldn’t make it. We’ll make it up to you, okay? Tomorrow, we’ll take you to the store, and you can pick out whatever you want. How does that sound?”

You nodded slowly, but the hollow ache in your chest didn’t go away. You watched as your parents returned their attention to Mike, showering him with questions about his game, reliving every goal and every cheer.

You stood there, forgotten, the silver medal in your hand feeling heavier by the second.

That night, as you lay in bed, you stared at the medal on the nightstand. You thought about the promise your parents had made, the reward they’d offered to soothe their absence.

A reward.

That’s what you were worth to them. Not their time, not their presence, but a material gift to ease their guilt.

And so, even at five years old, you learned a valuable lesson: if you couldn’t earn love, you could at least be compensated for its absence.

✮ ⋆

October, 2017⋆｡

The house was alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Streamers in shades of purple and gold adorned the grand living room, and a three-tier cake stood proudly at the center of the dining table, surrounded by an array of delicately prepared treats.

It was your fifteenth birthday—or at least, it was supposed to be.

You stood near the large bay window, your dress a vision of elegance and sparkle, the kind your mother had insisted on getting for the occasion. But your smile was thin and forced, your eyes constantly darting to the growing crowd around Mike.

Your older brother was the center of attention, as he always seemed to be.

Earlier that evening, just as the guests began to arrive, Mike had announced to their parents that he had been accepted into the most prestigious university in the country. The news was met with exuberant cheers and immediate celebration.

Your parents’ pride radiated like the sun, casting a shadow over everything else—including you.

At first, you tried to hold onto the joy of your own milestone, but as the night wore on, the decorations, the cake, and even the guests seemed to shift their focus.

“To Mike!” Your father’s voice boomed as he raised a glass of champagne “For making us the proudest parents alive!”

A collective cheer followed, and you felt your chest tighten. You glanced at your mother, hoping for a gesture of acknowledgment, but she was too busy beaming at Mike.

The words you had rehearsed to thank everyone for coming stayed locked in your throat.

“It’s okay…” You told yourself, gripping the edges of the dress to steady your trembling hands.

As the hours passed, your birthday transformed into an impromptu celebration for Mike’s achievement. Relatives and family friends crowded around him, offering their congratulations. The gifts that were meant for you sat unopened on a side table, forgotten.

Later that night, after most of the guests had left, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, picking at the remains of the untouched birthday cake. Your parents walked in, their faces still glowing with pride.

“Darling,” Your father said, noticing your somber expression “Why are you here by yourself? It was such a wonderful evening.”

You looked up at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“It was supposed to be my birthday party.”

Your mother’s smile faltered “Oh, sweetheart, we’re so sorry,” She said, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder “But you understand how important this is for Mike, don’t you? This is such a big accomplishment for him.”

“I guess.” You mumbled, though the ache in your chest remained.

Mike walked in then, a triumphant grin on his face “What’s this? Pouting because you had to share the spotlight?” He teased, ruffling your hair in that condescending way that always made your blood boil.

“It’s not a big deal. Come on, you should be happy for me. Not everyone gets into a school like this.”

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to lash out “Happy birthday to me.” You muttered under her breath.

Her parents, sensing the tension, exchanged a quick glance.

“YN, we’ll make it up to you. Tomorrow, we’ll take you shopping and get you whatever you want. Anything at all.”

You forced a smile, nodding mechanically.

“Sure. Thanks.”

But as you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being invisible. No matter how hard you tried, it seemed you would always come second to Mike—the golden child, the perfect son, the one who could do no wrong.

And so, the seeds of bitterness were planted, watered by years of neglect and overshadowed by a brother who always shone brighter.

You promised yourself then that you would never let anyone make you feel small again.

If you had to be cruel to survive, so be it. Because in a world where everyone else seemed to have the upper hand, kindness felt like a luxury you couldn’t afford.

✮ ⋆

July, 2020⋆｡

The dining room was filled with laughter and the soft clinking of glasses. The long table was adorned with an elegant spread, shimmering under the chandelier’s warm glow.

It was Mike’s farewell dinner, a grand event in honor of his departure to Germany to pursue his master’s degree in business management.

The room buzzed with pride and excitement for the family’s golden boy.

You, now seventeen, sat near the end of the table, quiet and composed, your gaze fixed on your untouched plate. You had learned to blend into the background during these family gatherings, where you knew your presence would be an afterthought.

“To Mike!” Uncle William raised his glass for the third toast of the evening “A true inspiration to us all. You’ve always been the pride of the family!”

“Here’s to making us proud in Germany,” Chimed in Aunt Silvia, dabbing her eyes with a napkin “Our boy is destined for greatness.”

Everyone joined in the toast, glasses clinking, voices filled with admiration. Your grip tightened around the fork, your knuckles white as you forced a polite smile.

“And what about you, YN?” Cousin Andrew’s voice cut through the noise like a blade, drawing attention to her “Any plans to follow in your brother’s footsteps? Or is it still fashion magazines and parties for you?”

The table erupted in laughter, the kind that stung more than it amused. Your jaw clenched, but you kept a neutral expression, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Your mother’s voice cut through the mockery, firm but not forceful.

“That’s enough, Andrew. YN has her own path, and she’s doing well in school.”

“Well, of course she is,” Mike interjected, his tone smooth but laced with condescension “YN has always been… creative.”

More laughter followed, and you felt the familiar sting of their dismissive comments. Years of enduring this treatment had toughened you, but tonight, it felt heavier, like a weight pressing on your chest.

As dessert was served, Grandpa leaned toward you.

“You should be proud of your brother, Little YN. He’s setting the standard for the family. Maybe one day you’ll find your own way to contribute.”

“I am proud.” You said softly, voice steady despite the lump in your throat.

Your father, noticing the tension, tried to lighten the mood.

“Come now, let’s not overshadow YN entirely. She’s done well this year, too.”

“Sure,” Mike quipped, a smirk tugging at his lips “But tonight isn’t about her.”

You pushed your chair back, movements graceful despite the storm brewing inside you.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get some air.”

The murmurs at the table quieted as you left the room, heels clicking against the polished floor.

Once outside, You inhaled deeply, the cool night air filling her lungs. Your chest heaved as you fought back the tears threatening to spill.

You wouldn’t let them see your break.

Not now. Not ever.

When your parents found you later, sitting on the garden bench, your father held out a small, velvet box.

“We’re sorry, darling,” He said, his voice soft with guilt “We didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”

You opened the box to reveal a delicate diamond bracelet, the stones catching the moonlight.

“It’s beautiful.” You said, slipping it onto your wrist.

But inside, the gesture felt hollow. No gift could fill the void left by years of neglect and overshadowing.

That night, the bracelet glittering on the nightstand, you made a vow: If the world wanted to underestimate you, you would let it. And then, you would show them all just how wrong they were.

✮ ⋆

Present year (Mike’s return)⋆｡

Hours later, you returned home after dinner at Hongjoong’s house, your mood lifted by the warmth and genuine affection of his parents. But the moment you stepped inside your own home, the oppressive atmosphere returned.

Mike confronted you as always, but you didn’t mind, didn’t talk back. But your chest burned with frustration and hurt.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you passed by your parents’ room. Their voices carried through the cracked door.

“Do you think we should talk to her?” Your mother asked, her tone uncertain.

Her father sighed “She’ll be fine. She always is.”

“I don’t know,” She said softly “Maybe we should get her something. You know how sensitive she can be about these things.”

“A trip, perhaps?” Your father suggested “Or maybe one of those designer handbags she likes. It’s not like she doesn’t enjoy it.”

You froze in the hallway, stomach twisting. Of course. This was how it always went. Gifts instead of apologies. Material things to soothe over their lack of understanding or support.

You leaned against the wall, fists clenching.

As a child, you had cried over these moments, hoping for more, longing for genuine care. Now, you knew better.

You have learned to accept it, even take advantage of it.

If they thought they could buy your affection, you would let them.

Your lips curved into a bitter smile. If they wanted to give you a car, a trip, a bag, or whatever else they thought would ease their guilt, so be it. You’d make sure it was worth their while.

But as you slipped into your room and closed the door, the bitterness remained, gnawing at the edges of your heart.

You should be used to this by now.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The bustling energy of the school hallway feels distant as you walk to your locker. Usually, your heels click with purpose, your presence commanding attention.

But today, something is off. You aren't radiating your usual aura of authority and sharpness. Instead, you move through the crowd quietly, your thoughts heavy.

Your mind has been restless since the night before, replaying old memories you rarely allowed yourself to dwell on. The echoes of the past—your parents’ hollow apologies, Mike’s dismissive words—lingered, intertwining with the warmth you had felt during the date with Hongjoong.

Why now? Why did those memories resurface now, after a day that had been nothing short of… perfect?

As you approach your locker, you feel a presence behind you. Turning, you see Hongjoong standing there, his brows furrows in concern.

“You’ve been quiet.” He says softly.

You tilt your head, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“And that’s unusual?”

“For you? Yeah.” He says, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You smirk faintly but don't respond. Instead, you play with the lock on your locker, your movements uncharacteristically hesitant.

Hongjoong leans against the locker next to yours, studying you.

“Something’s on your mind.”

You hesitate, pride warring with the strange weight pressing on your chest. Finally, you shrug, closing the locker door.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Not everything revolves around you, Joongie.”

Hongjoong chuckles, but his concern doesn't waver “Okay, but if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease.

“Today I planned a little meeting at my house, bring a swimsuit.”

✮ ⋆

The sun cast golden reflections over the pool as music pulses through the speakers. Laughter and chatter fill the air as you and your friends lounge around, drinks in hand. Mindy, Samantha, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, San, Mingi, and Hongjoong are all there, the atmosphere lighthearted and carefree.

Dann, ever the obedient little pet, carries a tray of drinks, moving carefully to avoid spilling anything. She approaches the group, her expression unreadable as she sets the drinks down on the small poolside table.

"Finally." Seonghwa smirks, picking up his glass.

"Took you long enough, nerd." Mindy snaps.

"What, did you have to mix them by hand?" Wooyoung adds with a chuckle.

Dann clenches her jaw but says nothing. She had learned that silence is often the best defense. But today, something in her burns hotter than usual.

Maybe it is the sight of you and Hoongjoong sitting so close, his hand around your waist, your chemistry undeniable.

Maybe it’s the way you barely acknowledge her, as if she is nothing more than an accessory in your world.

"You should be more grateful," Dann mutters under her breath "Not everyone is willing to put up with your bullshit."

Silence. Then laughter. You arch an eyebrow, standing up and tilting your head as if you hadn't heard correctly.

"Excuse me?"

Dann swallows, but her resolve doesn't waver "I said—"

But before she can finish, you let out a scoff, exchanging a look with Wooyoung. Without warning, you place a hand on Dann’s shoulder and give her a hard shove. Wooyoung, catching on to the moment, joins in, and together you push Dann straight into the pool.

A loud splash echoes through the air.

Laughter erupts from the group as Dann surfaces, coughing and sputtering, her soaked hair plaster to her face. Wooyoung doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes. Even Hongjoong chuckles along with the others.

Dann wipes water from her eyes, her face burning—not just from humiliation but from something deeper. Something sharper.

As the group continues to laugh, none of them notices the figure watching from the mansion’s balcony. Mike stands at a distance, his expression unreadable, his grip tightening around his glass as he observes everything in silence.

The laughter has barely settled when Dann storms away, her soaked clothes clinging to her like a second skin, her face burning with humiliation.

She can still hear their amusement echoing behind her, but she doesn’t turn back. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Just as the group is about to move on from the incident, a familiar voice interrupts.

“Sweetie,” Your mother’s elegant tone cut through the chatter, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Yes, mommy?”

Your mother looks over the group with an approving nod “I see you’re all having fun,” She says pleasantly “I wanted to extend an invitation to all of you. This Saturday, we’re hosting a celebration for Mike’s accomplishments. It’ll be a grand affair.”

The mention of Mike makes your stomach twist, but you keep your expression unreadable.

Your mother’s gaze then lands directly on Hongjoong “And you, young man, I would love for you to attend.”

Hongjoong blinks, clearly caught off guard. He isn’t sure if that is true or just a polite formality, but he nods nonetheless.

“Uh, thank you, Mrs. Clarke. I’d be honored to come.”

“Wonderful.” She said smoothly, and with that, she excused herself, leaving the group with murmurs of intrigue about the upcoming event.

✮ ⋆

As the night stretches on, one by one, your friends depart, leaving only you and Hongjoong by the pool. The energy has shifted. The teasing, the careless fun—it all faded into something quieter, something heavier in the air between you.

The water is cool against Hongjoong’s skin, a welcome contrast to the heat radiating between you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, feeling the warmth of your sun-kissed body against his own. You straddle his lap, your fingers threading through his hair as you talk.

“And your friends… what are they like?” You ask, your voice softer now, genuinely curious.

Hongjoong chuckles “A bunch of nerds, really,” He admits “Yunho is always energetic, making jokes and annoying. Yeosang is quiet but he is also a weirdo.” You both laugh, you can see in his eyes how much he appreciates his friends “On the other hand, Jongho is reserved and always listening, sometimes scary, but in general we spend way too much time debating books lore and analyzing sci-fi movies like it’s a science.”

You smirk, tilting your head toward him “That’s kinda cute.”

He raises an eyebrow “Cute? You wouldn’t last five minutes in one of our discussions.”

“Try me, I know much more than just fashion and pop culture gossip.”

And for a while, you simply talk. About things that don't matter, about things that do. And for the first time in a long time, you aren't thinking about your reputation, about expectations, or about proving yourself.

You are just there, with him.

At some point, you drift closer, and Hongjoong notices. The way your eyes soften under the dim lights, the way the water reflects off your skin. The way you look at him—not like he is some nerd trying to reach too high, but like he is just Hongjoong.

Without overthinking, he leans in, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re different when it’s just us.” He murmurs.

“And you don’t mind?”

He shakes his head “Not even a little.”

Your lips meet, tentative at first, then deeper. The warmth of the water, the way your bodies press against each other—it’s intoxicating. Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

His hands trace slow, lazy circles on your bare waist, and for that moment, nothing else exists.

"You always talk about your nerdy friends," You murmur as you pull back a little, your breath catching against his lips "But you never really tell me about you."

Hongjoong lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head "And here I thought you didn’t care."

You roll your eyes, but there’s something different now. The barest hint of a smirk touches your lips.

"Maybe I do."

His breath hitches at the sound of your voice, and you feel the faint tremor in his hands as they hover on your waist. There’s hesitation, a slight uncertainty, as if he’s not sure how far to go or whether he’s doing it right. You like it. It’s endearing.

You know exactly what’s on his mind, that quiet nervousness, and it only makes you want him more.

You reach out, tracing your fingertips slowly down his arm beneath the water, deliberate and teasing. He shivers slightly under your touch, his pulse hammering.

When your hand drifts to his chest, you linger there, pressing your palm flat against his skin, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingers.

“Let's go shopping tomorrow after school. You need a suit, and you have to impress my mother.”

“Only your mother?” He teases, making you scoff.

“Think what you want, but you need something that screams ‘I belong to YN Clarke’.”

Hongjoong laughs but nods “All right then, pretty.”

"You’re warm," You note absently, your breath shaky as you let your touch wander.

Hongjoong exhales sharply, his hand lifting, skimming over the curve of your waist. His fingertips brush over your bare skin, and you can feel his uncertainty, the way he pulls back just a fraction when you press closer.

His breath is uneven, like he’s trying to keep up with the rhythm of your touch, trying to suppress the nerves coiling in his gut. He swallows hard.

"YN—"

You cut him off before he can say more, leaning in to kiss him again, your lips meeting his with an urgency that both surprises and excites him.

The kiss is slow at first, teasing, but as Hongjoong slides his hand to the small of your back and pulls you closer, something inside both of you snaps.

The moment his grip tightens, pulling you flush against him, you gasp softly, feeling the heat between you intensify. Hongjoong's kiss becomes deeper, rougher, his hands gripping you like he’s been starving for you, his touch becoming bolder, more eager.

His muscles tense beneath your hands, the slight tremor in his touch betraying his inexperience, but you don’t mind. If anything, you find it charming, knowing you’re the one who can pull this reaction from him.

The water around you suddenly feels too cool compared to the heat of his body against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers threading through his damp hair as he presses you against the edge of the pool.

He kisses along your jaw, over the damp skin of your throat, sucking lightly before flicking his tongue over the spot to soothe the sting. You shudder at the sensation, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist beneath the water.

"Joong—" You breathe, your voice barely above a whisper, lost in the warmth of the moment.

But he swallows the rest of your words with another kiss, drowning you both in the heat of it, in the desperation, the raw hunger that feels so real and unrestrained.

His hands roam lower now, gripping your thighs beneath the water, and you arch into him. You can feel his self-control hanging by a thread, the way he stifles every urge to push harder, faster, the way he almost overthinks each move. It’s a mix of hesitance and hunger.

He wants you so badly, but he’s not sure if he’s doing it right. But the more you respond, the more he realizes that’s not what matters. It’s the way you want him that matters.

You guide him without saying a word—your body melting against him, soft sighs escaping your lips as he becomes more confident with each touch. His kisses deepen, and the passion between you escalates.

There’s nothing awkward about this anymore. The hesitation fades, and what’s left is raw, real, and completely right.

"God, you drive me crazy," He murmurs against your lips, voice hoarse with the effort of holding back.

You smirk, brushing your fingers along his jaw "I know, nerd."

Hongjoong groans, his grip tightening as he nips at your lower lip in retaliation. You laugh, but it quickly fades into a soft sigh when he dips his head, kissing along the curve of your shoulder, his lips gentle but insistent.

For a moment, you can feel him stiffen slightly, unsure whether he’s moving too fast, and then you pull him closer, urging him to follow your lead. His hands move with more certainty now, exploring with a quiet passion, and the way his body reacts to yours is nothing short of electrifying.

The beauty of it is not just in the physicality—the way his hands and lips touch you—but in the way he’s learning.

Hongjoong is not perfect, and he’s not experienced, but he’s here.

He’s with you, and the more he responds to you, the more he learns what you need, the more you find yourself consumed by him.

It’s the way he forgets his nervousness, the way he becomes sure of himself because of you.

And you know, deep down, that this isn’t just about the touch, the heat, the kissing. It’s about the way he’s learning to be confident in himself. Because of you.

And that, in the end, makes all the difference.

For once, you let yourself get lost in it. In the way Hongjoong touches you, the way he wants you, the way he holds you like you’re something precious.

It 's intoxicating.

And yet, hidden in the shadows, Dann stands frozen, her chest tightening, her fingers clenched into fists as she watches the scene unfold.

Dann hadn’t meant to stay. She hadn’t meant to see.

But there she is, standing by the edge of the terrace, her heart sinking lower and lower.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It wasn’t just some game you were playing.

This is real.

She has told herself she doesn't care. That it doesn’t matter. But the painful sting in her heart tells her otherwise.

And it hurt.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next day, you and Hongjoong find yourselves strolling through an upscale shopping mall. The polished marble floors gleam under the soft glow of designer store lights.

As usual, your style is impeccable—heels clicking in rhythm, and your hair flowing with the air. Beside you, Hongjoong is a stark contrast, casual yet charming in his plain sweater and jeans.

You lead him into one of the most exclusive stores, where racks of tailored suits and elegant ensembles line the walls.

The sales assistants greet you with knowing smiles, instantly recognizing your status.

“Do you even know my size?” He teases, watching you confidently pull out a dark navy suit with subtle pinstripes.

You smirk, holding the suit up to him “I don’t need to know your size. I have an eye for perfection.”

He shakes his head, chuckling as he takes the suit from your hands “You know I don’t need something this expensive, right? I can just wear the stuff I have at home.”

“Not if you’re going to a party as my date.” You say firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Hongjoong smiles softly but doesn’t press further. He disappears into the fitting room, and while he’s gone, you wander the store, your gaze drifting over the luxurious displays.

The weight in your chest hasn’t eased since yesterday. If anything, it feels heavier under the bright lights and polished surfaces.

It’s not about the suit. It’s not about the party. Shopping, spending, indulging—it’s the only thing that ever distracted you from the hollow ache inside. It always has been.

“YN?” Hongjoong’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You turn, and for a moment, your breath catches. The suit fits him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean frame.

He looks… confident. Polished.

Yours.

“What do you think?” He asks, doing a half spin for effect.

You step closer, your fingers brushing over the lapel of the jacket “You look…” You pause, searching for the right word, then smirk “Like someone who belongs to me.”

He laughs, shaking his head, but there’s a hint of pink in his cheeks “I should’ve known you’d say that.”

After the purchase is made—your card, of course—you both leave the store. You’re holding onto a medium-sized bag containing some clothes as Hongjoong holds a bag with his new suit that costs more than some people make in a month.

As you walk through the mall, Hongjoong’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He glances at the screen, and a small smile spreads across his face.

“What is it?” You ask, curious.

“It’s Jongho, Yeosang, and Yunho,” He says, showing you the message “They’re asking if I want to hit the arcade with them tonight. It’s been ages since we’ve hung out.”

You notice the way his eyes light up at the mention of his friends, and for a moment, your heart clenches.

You nod, keeping your expression neutral.

“You should go.”

He hesitates, slipping his phone back into his pocket “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” You say with a small smile “Go have fun with them. You deserve it.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, studying your face.

“Yeah,” You reply, tilting your head slightly “I’ll just go home and relax. Maybe binge some show or something.”

Hongjoong doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push.

“Okay, but only if you promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you’ll call me if you need anything.”

You roll your eyes, your lips curving into a smirk “Relax, Joong. I’m not helpless.”

“I know you’re not,” He says softly “But I care about you, pretty. A lot.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You can’t help but wonder if it’s only a matter of time before those words—his care, his affection—turn into something else.

Something colder.

He leans down and kisses your forehead, his hand briefly brushing yours.

“I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay,” You whisper, watching him walk away.

You clutch the bag in your hand, the weight of the expensive items nothing compared to the familiar emptiness settling in your chest.

✮ ⋆

The arcade was alive with the sound of laughter, the ping of game machines, and the occasional cheer of someone winning.

Hongjoong walked in, spotting the boys huddled near the air hockey table.

“Hongjoong!” Yunho calls, waving him over.

“About time you showed up,” Yeosang teases “We thought YN had you on a leash or something.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, grinning “Very funny.”

Jongho smirks “For a moment we thought you'd say no, since you've only spent time with her.”

“I also have a life apart from being with her and she also needs her space, so she let me come.”

“She let you come? I didn't know you had to ask permission to go out with your friends.” Yunho snorts mockingly.

“We’re kind of a thing now.” Hongjoong murmurs shyly.

The boys look confused at each other before looking at him.

“What do you mean with that, Joong?”

He hesitates before shrugging, a small smile tugging at his lips “We had a date.”

Yunho drops the joystick he was holding “A date?!

“Wait, wait,” Yeosang says, laughing “YN Clarke? Like, the queen bee had a date with you?”

“The same one.” Hongjoong replies, scratching the back of his neck.

Yeosang and Yunho exchange a look before breaking into wide grins.

Jongho let out a low whistle “I thought you were joking about liking her. She actually went out with you?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong says, his smile growing “It was amazing. I took her to the amusement park. She even let me win her a prize—a stuffed bunny.”

Yunho grinns “Aww, how romantic. Joongie the Casanova.”

“More like Hongjoong the miracle nerd,” Jongho adds “Seriously, dude. YN Clarke? That’s insane.”

Yunho’s grin widens “Dude, you’re living the dream. A date with the queen bee of the school? You’re officially a legend.”

Hongjoong chuckles, his face reddening slightly. Before he could respond, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Joong?”

He turns to see Dann standing a few feet away, clutching a soda.

“Dann?” He says, confused “What are you doing here?”

“Yunho texted me,” Dann says, glancing at the boys “Thought it’d be nice to hang out.”

Hongjoong stiffs slightly “Oh... Uh, cool.”

Dann steps closer, her gaze lingering on him “It’s been a while. You’ve been… busy.”

He scratches the back of his neck, glancing at his friends for support “Yeah, I guess I have.”

Dann smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes “With YN, right?”

“Yeah,” He answers, his tone cautious.

Yeosang, sensing the tension, jumps in “Hey, let’s hit the games. Air hockey, anyone?”

“Sure,” Dann says quickly, stepping closer to Hongjoong “We can team up.”

Hongjoong hesitates. He knows you don’t like Dann being around him—and he can't blame you. Dann’s feelings for him are obvious, you told him from the beginning and he can already confirm it.

He doesn’t want to hurt Dann, but he also doesn’t want to disrespect you.

“Actually,” He starts, his tone gentle but firm “Why don’t you play with Jongho? He’s unbeatable.”

Dann’s smile falters “Oh. Right. Sure.”

Yunho raises an eyebrow at Hongjoong, but doesn’t comment. They are all aware of the feelings of both, Dann in love with Hongjoong and Hongjoong with you, they just hope that things don't get awkward in the future.

As they move toward the air hockey table, Dann hangs back, watching Hongjoong laugh and joke with the others.

Her chest tightness. Hongjoong was pushing her away—kindly, yes, but it was still rejection. And she knows why.

It 's not fair. She had been there for him when no one else was. She had defended him when people mocked him for being a nerd. And now, he was choosing you. Again.

Her phone buzzes, breaking her thoughts. She pulls it out to see a message from Mike:

Mike C: Stay focused. Remember our deal.

Dann clenches her jaw, her fingers tightening around the phone.

If Hongjoong wants to choose you, fine. But you don’t deserve him. And Dann is going to make sure he sees that—no matter what it takes.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The cafeteria is alive with its usual energy, but the corner table claimed by you and your entourage buzzes with a more refined excitement. The topic of the day? Saturday’s celebration for Mike at the Ritz.

“So,” Mindy begins, twirling a strand of her perfectly styled hair “Who’s already stressing about their outfit? Because I may or may not have gone a little overboard at Valentino yesterday.”

“Only yesterday?” Wooyoung teases, smirking “Some of us have been planning for days. I’m bringing the tux my dad wore to that gala in Monaco. He swears it’s vintage gold now.”

You scoff, taking a delicate sip of your iced coffee “Monaco tux or not, just don’t embarrass me, Woo.”

“Moi? Embarrass you? Never, babydoll.” He grins, leaning back in his chair.

Mindy sighs dramatically, resting her chin in her palm “I still think about the last party. The lighting, the flowers, the champagne towers. Do you think they’ll top it this time?”

“They’d better,” You reply nonchalantly, though your gaze flickered briefly “My parents love to ‘impress.’ It’s practically their brand.”

“And what time should we grace them with our presence?” Another of your friends, Samantha, asks, pulling out her phone.

“Seven-thirty, at the Ritz. And be punctual. This isn’t one of those parties you can show up fashionably late to.”

“Noted,” Wooyoung says, tapping the time into his calendar “And little Hongjoong? Are you ready to make your grand debut into the Clarke world of extravagance?”

Hongjoong, who has been quietly observing the banter, chuckles softly “I think I’ll survive. YN’s already dragged me through the whole shopping process.”

“Oh, please,” You cut in, smirking “Dragged? You should be thanking me, Joong.”

He raises his hands in surrender, laughing “All right, all right. I owe you one.”

“Just one?” Wooyoung teases again, winking.

Mindy’s eyes lit up as she leaned forward “Wait, what did you go with? Armani? Tom Ford?”

“Tom Ford, It suits him. And trust me, he’ll be turning heads Saturday night.”

“Can’t wait to see it.” Woo says, smirking at him.

“So, how many bottles of champagne do you think your parents are bringing out this time? Ten? Twenty?”

You snort, leaning back in the chair with an air of practiced nonchalance “If it’s less than twenty, I’ll personally tell the caterers to triple the order.”

Wooyoung laughs “Forget the champagne. I’m more interested in how many pastries they’ll have. Last party, I swear I had a religious experience with those chocolate eclairs.”

“Oh, the eclairs,” Sam sighs dreamily “I’ve been thinking about them since then. And don’t even get me started on the tiramisu.”

Hongjoong chuckles, glancing at you “So, is this a party or a dessert buffet?”

“It’s both. A Clarke family event is always an experience. You’ll see.”

“Damn right,” Woo said, raising his water bottle like it was a champagne glass “To YN Clarke and her family's amazing parties!”

The group laughs, the easy camaraderie filling the space. Hongjoong looks at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. You caughting his gaze and, for a brief moment, your confident exterior softened.

The party was just days away, and for now, everything seemed perfect.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The air in the Clarke mansion was a flurry of activity, with staff bustling through the grand halls, preparing for the evening’s event. The clinking of silverware and the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the dining room, where the family had gathered for breakfast.

You sit at the table, scrolling through your phone, your polished nails tapping lightly against the screen. Across from you, Mike is casually flipping through the day’s paper, looking as composed as ever. Your father is already grumbling about last-minute details while your mother sips her tea, the picture of elegance amidst the chaos.

“Dann, can you help me with this?” Dann’s mother’s voice echoes softly from the kitchen.

Dann, trying to stay invisible, hesitates before hurrying to her mother’s side. Together, they carefully carry trays of food into the dining room.

Your father raises an eyebrow, glancing at Dann as she places a platter of fruit on the table.

“Quite the multi-tasker, aren’t you?” He remarks, his tone hovering between sarcasm and indifference.

Dann stiffens slightly, her cheeks coloring “Just helping my mom, sir.” She says quietly.

Before anyone can say more, your mother sets her cup down with a delicate clink.

“You know, I’ve been watching how hard you work around here, Dann,” She says warmly “Always helping your mother, always polite. I think it’s only fair that we extend an invitation to you for tonight’s party.”

The room falls silent. your head snaps up, eyes narrowing slightly, while Mike’s smirk barely conceals his amusement.

“Mom,” You begin, voice sharp “I don’t think—”

“Nonsense, sweetie,” She interrupts smoothly “It’s about time we show a little appreciation. Don’t you think so?”

Dann blinks, surprise evident on her face “Oh, Mrs. Clarke, that’s… I mean, thank you, but—”

“Of course,” Your father interjects, his tone dry “Just make sure you’re aware of the dress code. It’s black tie, not… casual.” His eyes flick briefly over Dann’s simple attire, and the implication hangs heavy in the air.

Your mother’s jaw tightens, and shoots her husband a pointed look “Which is why, sweetheart, you’ll be lending her something appropriate to wear. I’m sure you have plenty of dresses that would look lovely on her.”

Your lips curve into a slow, calculated smile “Of course, Mommy.”

After breakfast, you guide Dann into your walk-in closet with a sweeping gesture, the dazzling array of dresses catching her wide-eyed attention.

She's already entered the closet next to your room, but this one is much bigger. Her fingers trail hesitantly over the delicate fabrics, her expression a mix of awe and discomfort.

She’s never been surrounded by such luxury, let alone been invited to wear it. The second-hand clothes she normally wears couldn’t be further from this.

“You’ve got so many.” She murmurs, her voice tinged with wonder.

You smile, tilting your head “I know, it’s almost a problem, right? Too many choices. But don’t worry—I’ll help you find something that’s just right for tonight.”

Dann nods quickly, her unease flickering across her face. She’s not used to this kind of kindness from you, and it’s unsettling.

But as much as she doesn’t trust it, she can’t exactly refuse either.

You reach into one of the last racks, where the clothes you no longer wear are stored, you pull out a shimmering emerald gown with a slit up the side.

“Here’s a favorite of mine. It’s gorgeous on, trust me. And it’ll definitely help you stand out.”

Dann takes the dress with both hands, handling it as though it might dissolve in her grip “It’s beautiful,” She says, her tone genuine “I’ve never worn anything like this before.”

You smile, masking your amusement “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

Moving through the racks, you select another gown, this one a deep crimson with delicate lace detailing.

“Or maybe this one? It’s a classic. Wore it to a charity auction, and let me tell you—it turned heads.”

Dann stares at the dress, wide-eyed “Wow. It 's amazing.”

She’s completely oblivious to the fact that these dresses, as stunning as they are, are from last year’s collections—now outdated by anyone with even a passing knowledge of fashion.

To Dann, they’re the height of elegance.

You pull a lavender gown from the back of the rack, its soft beading catching the light.

“This one’s a little more subtle,” You say, handing it over “It’s sweet and sophisticated. I think it’s perfect for you. You can keep it, take it as a gift.”

Dann nods enthusiastically, her unease momentarily forgotten as she clutches the gown to her chest.

“Thank you, YN. This is… this is so kind of you.”

You wave off her gratitude with a bright smile “Of course. It’s my pleasure. Go try it on, let’s see how it looks.”

She disappears into the dressing room, and you lean against the doorway with a smug tilt to your lips.

The plan is unfolding perfectly. These dresses, while stunning in their time, are no longer the kind that command admiration—they invite quiet judgment.

But Dann doesn’t know that, and that’s exactly the point.

When she steps out in the lavender gown, her face lights up “It fits perfectly,” She says, her voice tinged with shy excitement.

You study her for a long moment, your smile never faltering.

“It looks wonderful on you, just wait until you see everyone’s reaction tonight.”

Dann beams, completely unaware of the double meaning behind your words.

“I can’t thank you enough, YN.”

You wave her off again “No need to thank me. I’m just glad you’ll have something to wear.”

Inside, you’re already picturing the whispers and raised eyebrows at the party. Tonight will be a night she’ll never forget—for all the wrong reasons.

As Dann leaves the room clutching the dress, you lean against the doorway, arms crossed. Your mother’s unexpected invitation throws you off, but if Dann is going to attend, you will make sure it’s on your terms.

✮ ⋆

Dann holds the lavender dress against herself, staring at the delicate fabric in awe. She hurries to the kitchen, where her mother is wiping down the counters.

“Mom, look at this,” Dann says, holding the gown up for her mother to see “It’s beautiful, but I don’t have the right shoes or makeup to match it.”

Her mother glances at the dress, her expression softening with a mix of pride and concern.

“It’s lovely, sweetheart, but you’re right. You need to look your best if you’re going to that party.”

Dann frowns “But… I don’t have anything like that.”

Her mother thinks for a moment, before leaving the kitchen she smiles at her “Why don’t you go shopping? Find a nice pair of shoes and maybe some makeup. You deserve to feel special tonight.”

As Dann mulls over the idea, Mike enters the room, his usual air of confidence trailing behind him. Overhearing their conversation, he leans casually against the doorframe.

“Shopping for the party, Dann?” He asks, his tone dripping with feigned interest.

Dann straightens, clutching the dress tighter “I don’t have shoes or makeup, so I thought—”

“Perfect.” Mike pulls out his wallet, flipping through the neatly arranged bills and credit cards. He holds out a black credit card “Here. Get yourself something nice. Consider it a little thank-you for… being cooperative.”

Dann hesitates but eventually takes the card, murmuring a quiet “Thanks.”

Mike’s smirk widens “While you’re at it, I’ve been thinking. Wouldn’t it be amusing if Hongjoong accidentally ended up at the wrong address tonight?”

Dann’s brows furrow “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know.” His tone is casual, but his eyes gleam with mischief “If YN’s little nerd showed up at the wrong place, it’d be quite the embarrassment. Don’t you think?”

Dann bites her lip “How would we even do that?”

Mike’s smirk sharpens “Simple. We just need YN’s phone. Once you’re back, we’ll figure out the details.”

Dann nods slowly, the plan settling uneasily in her mind. She doesn’t like deceiving Hongjoong, but the thought of disrupting YN’s perfect evening is too tempting to resist.

Later, at the shopping mall, Dann wanders through the perfume section, marveling at the elegant bottles and their enticing scents. She is about to make her selection when a familiar voice catches her attention.

Turning, she sees Hongjoong standing a few feet away, examining a cologne bottle. His brows furrowed in concentration as he sprayed a tester onto a card.

“Joong?” Dann calls, her voice carrying a hint of surprise.

He looks up, a smile breaking across his face “Dann? What are you doing here?”

“Just… shopping,” She says, holding up a small bag “You?”

“Same,” He says with a laugh “YN told me I needed to step up my game for tonight, so here I am.”

Dann’s mind races. This is her chance to plant the seed of doubt. She steps closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

“By the way, did YN tell you about the venue change?”

Hongjoong blinks “Venue change? What are you talking about?”

“Oh,” Dann says, feigning surprise “I thought she’d have mentioned it. YN’s mother invited me to the celebration because I’ve been working for YN, so she told me earlier that Mike decided to move the party to that new place downtown, I'll send you the address, but she said something about Mike wanting a more modern vibe.”

Hongjoong frowns, confusion flickering across his face “Why didn’t YN tell me?”

Dann shrugs “She’s probably just busy with everything. You know how these rich people's events are—chaotic.”

He nods slowly, though uncertainty lingers in his expression “Yeah… maybe.”

Dann smiles sweetly, placing a hand on his arm “Don’t worry. Just show up at. You’ll be fine.”

As Dann walks away, a pang of guilt surfaces. But it’s quickly overshadowed by the thrill of watching the plan unfold.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Dramatic Ass - @srslyscary ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Friends!? - @starillusion13 poly!yandere!ot8 x reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 From Storm To Sunrise - @ad0rechuu yungi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Game Over - @mingi-s-dimples topaz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Gone - @srslyscary mafia!ateez x mafia!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Forgotten Melodies - @vampwritesstuff non-idol!hongjoong x reader (smau series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Glares & Snuggles - @skrrts non-idol!hongjoong x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Guns & Kisses - @hee0soo mafia boss!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Guns and Tiaras - @crimsonbubble mafia!hongjoong x reader (thoughts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Hades - @lilacmingi hades!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼  𓈒𓏸 Inner children - @xuchiya non-idol!seonghwa x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Lego Friday - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Little Brat - @mingtinysworld bf!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Maleficent - @lilacmingi maleficent!seonghwa x princess!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Me And My Husband - @the-midnight-blooms ceo!dad!seonghwa x scientist!mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

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𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓆞 Missing Out - @songmingisthighs dilf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Mr. Mingi - @sugarnspice630 wonka!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Nail Polish - @atzaurora bf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Older, Wiser, And Hotter Than Ever - @skrrts non-idol!mingi x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Pretty - @no1likejoongie husband!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Fried Egg - @jjoongstar chef!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Giggle Fits - @pettypuppy-jonghyun bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 How To Tame A Brat Tamer - @k-hotchoisan non-idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 I Can Hear The Sea - @daemour non-idol!wooyoung x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 I Don't Want Your Sorrys, I Want You Safe - @dvrktvnnel mafia!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼𓈒 𓏸 Strangers To Friends To Lovers - @adelusionforyourthoughts soloist!jongho x soloist!reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸  𓈒𓏸 Talking To The Moon - @livsateez bounty hunter!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 The Pool - @beenbaanbuun non-idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Try Again [Part One] [Part Two] - @edenesth assistant!jongho x new maid!reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Unspoken Pain - @koyagifs non-idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

i’m gonna crash out we need to end dann and mike i’m serious i’m going to throw a car at them or something, reader, hongjoong, get behind me

I’m not ready for the next chapter i can’t i need reader to be happy and i need them to be with hongjoong oh I’m sick

great chapter, I can’t wait for the next one <3

Popular, Boy

☆07: The first breakdown

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, smut, angst, drama, dark academic, love triangle

wc: 9,8k

Summary: Humillation and disappointment from others always leave you more isolated than ever. The tension grows and unresolved emotions linger.

But unexpected plans could change everything in your little world.

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, manipulation, just Mike being a bastard.

Note: This chapter has important info that will develop in the next chapter, just want to say that next chapter is more spicy than aespa's song!!!

Series masterlist

☆06 ☆08: The first lie

The grandeur of the Clarke Mansion is still evident in the moments before they leave. The staff bustle around, making sure every detail is in place, as you, your family, and Dann prepare to depart for the lavish event at the Ritz.

The golden light of the chandelier in the hallway spills out into the driveway as the sleek black cars pull up, their engines purring softly in the night air. The elegance of the mansion stands in stark contrast to the wild, pulsing energy of the celebration awaiting them—a night meant to showcase Mike’s latest achievement.

You walk down the grand staircase, a vision in your red dress. As you descend, every step is deliberate, measured, meant to captivate.

Your parents, who were already waiting near the entrance, can’t help but pause in admiration at the sight of their daughter.

But you are too preoccupied with the swirling thoughts in your head to fully bask in their praise. Your brother's harsh words still echo in your ears, but you've done everything you can to mask the weight of them.

Tonight, you need to be untouchable.

Your father approaches you, voice full of pride.

“You look stunning, darling. No one will be able to take their eyes off you tonight.”

“And you better make sure they don’t, sweetie.” Your mother in an elegant black dress says brushing a strand of your hair.

You force a smile, though your gaze flicks to Mike standing near the door. You know he’s already prepared for what he perceives as your inevitable fall tonight.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“Maybe you should focus on not embarrassing yourself, YN. There’s no room for mistakes tonight.” He smirks.

You feel your pulse quicken, the familiar sting of his condescending tone cutting through you like a knife. But you don't respond. Not tonight. you've already made up your mind—you will be perfect, no matter what he says.

Dann, standing quietly in the background, watches everything unfold with a mix of disdain and curiosity. She can feel the heat radiating off you, and for the first time, she’s not sure if she envies you or resents you.

Still, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to get swept up in the endless cycle of praise and punishment that seems to define your world. As the last person to make their way out the door, Dann glances at her mother, who gives her a sweet smile, waving her goodbye.

When the cars finally pull up to the Ritz, the atmosphere shifts entirely. The event is already in full swing, lights glittering, the hum of conversation and laughter spilling out into the cool night air. The building itself looks like a monument to luxury—tall, majestic, with every surface reflecting the opulence that the Clarke family holds dear.

Inside the car, your family sits in quiet anticipation. Your parents speak in hushed tones, planning their approach to tonight’s gathering, while Mike remains distant, his eyes fixed on the glowing windows of the Ritz.

As the car doors open, the flood of sounds from the celebration pours in—cascading music, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of life beyond the door.

You step out first, followed by Mike, parents, and Dann. They make their way up the steps to the grand entrance, where the doormen usher them in with professional smiles. Inside, everything is extravagant—gleaming chandeliers, velvet drapes, and golden accents everywhere.

It feels like a different world entirely.

You adjust your posture, and for a moment, you feel the weight of all eyes on you. This is your world, a place where you can thrive, even with Mike’s shadow looming over you.

As you step into the grand ballroom, the scent of roses and expensive perfume mixes with the faint aroma of hors d'oeuvres being passed around on silver trays.

The room is alive with conversation and laughter, the hum of wealth and power weaving through the air. You’re used to this—this is where you belong, where you’ve always shone. You adjust your dress, a subtle yet powerful statement of the season’s trends, and scan the room.

Your friends spot you almost immediately, their polished appearances as perfect as always. They weave through the crowd with ease, their heels clicking against the marble floor as they make their way toward you.

“Babe!” Mindy exclaims, her eyes sparkling “You look stunning, as always.”

“Of course she does,” Samantha chimes in with a sly grin “What else is new?”

You smile, a perfect blend of warmth and confidence “It’s all about keeping up appearances, isn’t it?”

Mindy’s gaze shifts past you, her brows arching in curiosity “Wait a second… Is that Dann?”

All turn, spotting Dann lingering awkwardly near one of the side tables. She’s holding a glass of sparkling water like it’s a lifeline, her lavender gown catching the light in a way that draws just enough attention.

“Oh my God, it is her. What’s she doing here?”

You shrug with a practiced air of indifference “Mother invited her. You know how she gets—always so kind and generous. She thought it would be nice to show some appreciation for Dann helping around the house.”

Mindy’s lips press into a thin line, and the others barely hide a snicker “Kind of her,” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm “But seriously, babygirl, what were you thinking, letting her wear a dress from a collection from years ago? She looks ridiculous.”

You feign innocence, a soft laugh escaping your lips “Who am I to deny her a chance to feel special?”

Sam smirks “You’re a saint, baby. Truly. She really sticks out, doesn’t she? Like she doesn’t belong here.”

“That’s not my problem,” You reply smoothly, brushing off the comment with a flick of your hair “Mother wanted her here, and I’m doing my part. Whether or not she fits in is up to her.”

You glance across the room, your eyes narrowing as they settle on Seonghwa. He’s standing with his family, dressed impeccably as always, his confident smile lighting up the space around him.

For a brief moment, your polished demeanor falters. There’s a lot unsaid between the two of you—more than anyone in this room could ever guess.

After Wooyoung’s last party you haven't talked.

“Shall we mingle?” Someone asks, breaking your train of thought.

“Of course,” You reply, slipping your arm through Mindy’s “Let’s remind everyone who really runs this town.”

As you move through the crowd, your presence commanding attention as always, you can feel the weight of the evening settling in.

Tonight isn’t just about appearances—it’s about control, power, and making sure everyone, including Mike and Dann, knows exactly where they stand.

✮ ⋆

As the evening progresses, the hum of conversation and laughter fills the air, but Dann lingers near the edges of the room, keeping to herself. Her glass of sparkling water trembles slightly in her hand as she tries to blend into the background.

The soft lavender gown you gave her feels alien on her body, and she’s keenly aware of every glance sent her way.

What she doesn’t realize is that many of those glances are judgmental, the dress silently announcing her as out of place.

It doesn’t take long for Mindy and the other girls to leave you with your parents and notice Dann standing awkwardly by the refreshments table. They exchange a quick look, their eyes gleaming with amusement, and saunter over, their movements purposeful and predatory.

“Dann? Oh my god, hi.” Mindy says, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

Dann startles slightly but nods, trying to smile “Um, hi.”

Samantha tilts her head, feigning curiosity “That’s such a… unique dress you’re wearing. Where did you find it? A vintage shop?”

Dann’s cheeks burn, but she forces herself to meet their gaze.

“Actually, YN gave it to me. She thought it would be appropriate for tonight.”

Their smiles widen, eyes sparkling with malicious delight.

“Oh, our babygirl always so generous. Did YN let you borrow it from her last season’s wardrobe? Or was she just trying to make you look like a charity case?"

"I mean, you must feel so lucky to be here with all these important people in such a... dated dress."

“Very retro, not something anyone else here could pull off, but good for you for trying.”

Dann’s grip tightens around her glass, her stomach twisting. She knows they’re mocking her, but she refuses to let them see her falter.

“Thank you,” She says evenly “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Mindy arches an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the response, but Sam isn’t done yet.

“It’s just so sweet of YN to give you something she wouldn’t wear anymore. Such a generous friend, don’t you think?”

Before Dann can respond, Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the conversation like a blade.

“Ladies, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

He appears at Dann’s side, his presence commanding, and tone light but with an edge that makes your friends instantly fall silent.

“Hwa,” Mindy says with a wide smile “We were just admiring YN’s generosity in lending Dann one of her dresses. So thoughtful of her.”

Seonghwa’s lips curve into a polite but icy smile “Of course,” He turns to Dann, his expression unreadable “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Dann hesitates, but nods “Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” His eyes flick to your friends, his smile never wavering “If you’ll excuse us, I promised to introduce Dann to some of my friends.”

All the girls exchange glances but step aside.

“Sure, have fun.”

Seonghwa grabs Dann’s arm and leads her away, his steps measured and graceful. Once they’re out of earshot, he leans in slightly, his voice low enough that only Dann can hear.

“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just bored.”

Dann glances at him, unsure whether to trust the sudden kindness.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Once they’re seated with a drink in hand, Hwa turns to Dann, his expression serious.

"So, how’s everything going with Mike? What’s the plan for tonight?"

Dann glances around nervously, making sure no one is listening.

"Mike told me to tell Hongjoong a fake address so that he wouldn’t come tonight... he wanted YN to be left alone, humiliated. He said he was going to make sure she felt small in front of everyone during his speech."

Seonghwa nods, pleased with the progress of the plan, but there’s a certain coldness in his smile.

"And you’re sure he’ll follow through? Mike doesn’t usually miss a chance to put YN in her place."

Dann sighs, her hands trembling slightly as she grips her glass.

"I don’t know if I can keep doing this... but he’s promised that tonight, it’ll all come together. YN will feel what it’s like to be cast aside."

Seonghwa watches her for a moment, assessing, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own drink.

"Good. Just remember, if you want to be part of this, you have to follow through. All of us are in this together now."

Dann nods, but the weight of her actions starts to sink in. She knows she’s in too deep to back out now, and yet the guilt gnaws at her.

As Seonghwa continues to chat with her about their plans, she can’t shake the uneasy feeling that the lines between revenge and her own humanity are beginning to blur.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong adjusted his cufflinks in the mirror, his expression thoughtful as he glanced at his reflection. The evening was meant to be a special one—an elegant celebration at the Ritz, an event where he would finally step into the world you navigate so effortlessly.

But something didn’t feel right. Why did your family decide to change the venue so suddenly?

Confused but trusting, Hongjoong went along with the information, believing it was just a miscommunication. He got ready, dressed in the suit you bought him, ready to experience a world beyond his usual scope.

But as he drove, the city fell behind him, the roads winding into quiet, unfamiliar countryside. There was no Ritz, just a few ordinary homes and farmland stretching into the distance.

Panic started to settle in his chest as his phone buzzed, showing no signal. He tried calling you, Dann, and even Wooyoung, but no calls went through.

The further he drove, the more he realized Dann had played a cruel trick—luring him away, leaving him isolated and alone.

Anger surged through him as he realized the intent. Dann had deliberately ensured he wouldn’t make it to the party, making you feel abandoned, unsure, and hurt.

His fists clenched around the steering wheel, frustration boiling to the surface. He needed to get to you, to make sure you knew it wasn’t his choice to stay away.

Desperate, he took a U-turn, his tires screeching slightly on the gravel as he headed back toward the city.

The night was dark, and the streets were eerily quiet as he raced toward the first address you had given him.

✮ ⋆

The party was in full swing, and you had slipped into your role effortlessly. Your laughter echoed through the room as you sipped champagne, your friends and guests hanging on your every word.

Mindy, Sam, Wooyoung, and a few others surrounded you, chatting about the latest gossip in the city, and the music played softly in the background, setting a festive mood.

You looked around the grand ballroom, admiring the luxurious décor, the chandeliers that sparkled overhead, and the gentle hum of conversation filling the air.

It was everything you had grown accustomed to—the perfect night of glamour, elegance, and being the center of attention.

But as the evening wore on, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. It was as though something was missing, and that something was Hongjoong.

You glance at your phone again, noting that the time is slipping away, and Hongjoong still hasn't arrived. The champagne, which had initially made you feel warm and confident, now seemed to weigh on you, making you restless.

“Where is little Hongjoong, babydoll?” Wooyoung asks you.

“Don't know, he should be here by now.”

“Maybe he doesn't know how to get here.”

“Maybe, let me call him.” You excused yourself from the group and wandered toward a quieter corner.

Your heels click softly on the marble floor. You unlock your phone and send a quick text to Joong.

YN♡: Joong, are you coming? It’s getting late.

You bite your lip, anxiously staring at the screen, waiting for a reply. But the familiar bubble showing that he is typing never appeared.

Frowning, you call him next, holding the phone to your ear as the ringing tone echoed in your eardrum. But when the call goes straight to voicemail, your anxiety deepens.

Where is he?

You make sure to include him in this world you live in, and now, you are starting to doubt if he’d actually show up.

There had been no signs of trouble earlier, but now the silence from Hongjoong’s end is unsettling.

You pace slowly, trying to calm your racing thoughts, but it's hard to ignore the tightness in your chest. You know you shouldn’t be worried—he might be caught up in traffic, or maybe something had come up—but deep down, a quiet voice is telling you it isn't that simple.

You text him again, hoping for any kind of response.

YN♡: Kim Hongjoong. Where are you?

Nothing.

The seconds stretch into what feels like minutes, and your stomach twists. You don’t like this feeling.

You don’t like being uncertain.

You don’t like being let down.

You return to the party but find yourself unable to focus on the conversations around you. Your gaze flickers back to your phone as the minutes tick by. Your thoughts keep drifting back to Hongjoong.

What is keeping him? Is he really on his way? Or has something happened?

You take a long sip of your champagne, trying to shake the unease, but it lingers.

You just wanted him here, wanted to be with him.

You force yourself to rejoin the party, plastering on a faint smile as you move through the crowd. Mindy and Wooyoung are still chatting nearby, but their laughter feels muffled, distant.

The sparkle of the chandeliers seems dimmer now, the glamour of the evening dulled by the absence of the one person you were hoping to share it with.

“Sweetie, there you are,” Your mother’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. “Mike’s about to give his speech. Come, stand near the front.”

You nod, following her to the center of the ballroom, where Mike is standing on a small stage. The guests quiet down as he takes the microphone, his charismatic smile commanding attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” He begins, his voice smooth and confident “First, thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to me to celebrate this milestone with my family and our closest friends. As most of you know, I’ve recently been entrusted with a significant position in our family business, and I am honored to take on this responsibility.”

The crowd applauds, a few cheers breaking out. Mike raises a hand, his grin widening.

“I want to take a moment to express my gratitude for the opportunity to step into this role and carry the legacy of the Clarke family forward. My parents have worked tirelessly to get me here, and I will do everything in my power to uphold the values of this company. It’s an honor to follow in the footsteps of my father and grandfather.”

A round of applause erupted, and you force a smile, applauding with the crowd, even though a sense of dread fills your chest.

You can already feel where this is going.

“But before I move forward,” He continues, his voice gaining an edge of sarcasm “I have to acknowledge someone who’s always been there for me, even if she doesn’t always realize how much of a burden she’s been.”

His eyes flick to you, and for a moment, the entire room seems to pause.

Your heart skips a beat. You try to keep your composure, but there is an unsettling feeling settling deep in your stomach.

You force yourself to stand tall, but the quiet murmur of the crowd around you makes you feel exposed, like a target under a spotlight.

“As my sister, YN has been… well, how should I say this… a distraction,” Mike says, his voice dripping with mock affection “She’s been more focused on parties and… friendships than actual responsibility. And I think it’s time she learns that life isn’t all about being the center of attention.”

You feel your cheeks burn, the words piercing through you like ice. You can feel the eyes of the guests on you, the weight of their silent judgment. You try to maintain your composure, but the sting of Mike’s words make you feel small.

Like you don’t belong here.

Like you are nothing more than a plaything in the shadow of your perfect, golden brother.

Mike’s gaze never wavers from yours as he delivers the final blow.

“Maybe one day, she’ll realize that success isn’t about what you can get from people, but about what you can give back. I can only hope that she grows up soon enough.”

A few uncomfortable chuckles rip through the crowd, and your chest tightens. The blood rushes to your ears, and for a brief moment, you feel like you can’t breathe.

You look around, trying to find someone’s gaze—anyone who might offer you some comfort—but they all seem to look away, as if they have already accepted Mike’s harsh truth.

Your father is smiling, nodding as if it’s all just a joke. Your mother is watching you with a mixture of concern and hurt.

But you feel entirely alone.

The crowd clap hesitantly, you manage to give a tight smile, though it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

You stand still, trying not to let the tears welling in your eyes break free.

You have no idea where Hongjoong is—if he is even coming—but right now, you need him more than ever.

You need someone who sees you for who you truly are, not the image that Mike and everyone else had constructed for you.

“Excuse me,” You murmur to no one in particular, slipping away from the crowd.

✮ ⋆

The party had begun to mellow out after Mike’s speech, the guests turning their attention to the endless flow of wine and hors d’oeuvres. In one of the quieter corners of the room, Dann sat alone, her champagne glass untouched on the small table before her.

She fiddled with the hem of her dress, her eyes flickering toward the laughter and conversation swirling around her.

Mike, ever the picture of confidence, approached her with a sly grin, his glass of scotch in hand.

“Well, Dann,” He says smoothly, sliding into the chair beside her. “How much did you enjoy YN’s little… public humbling?”

Dann hesitates, caught off guard by the directness of the question. But then, her lips curl into a faint smirk.

“I can’t say it wasn’t satisfying,” She replies, her tone measured but laced with an undercurrent of bitterness.

He chuckles darkly “I thought you’d appreciate it. After all, you’ve had a front-row seat to her antics, haven’t you?”

She shrugs, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass “I’m around her every day, every hour. I see more than anyone else does.”

Mike’s brows lift, his curiosity piqued “Really? And where is our dear YN now? Have you seen her?”

Dann’s eyes darted toward the balcony doors “Probably outside, drinking, smoking, who knows.”

Mike leans forward, his voice dropping slightly “Smoking?”

“Yeah,” Dann replies casually “She does it often. You wouldn’t notice, but I do. She hides it well.”

He studies her for a moment, as if trying to gauge the truth in her words. Then, with a smirk, he straightens up.

“Interesting. Well, I suppose I should go check on her, make sure she hasn’t set anything on fire in her dramatics.”

Dann let out a small laugh, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She watches as Mike rose and headed toward the garden doors, his steps purposeful and unhurried.

✮ ⋆

The garden is quiet, the cool night air wrapping around you as you step outside. The soft glow of the party lights spills onto the garden, but you move further into the shadows, needing to be alone.

You clutch your champagne flute tightly, the glass cold against your palm. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of Mike’s words pressing down on you.

Why does he always do this? Why can’t he just let you be?

You take a deep breath, the crisp air biting at your lungs, and tilt your head back to look at the stars. They’re beautiful, distant, and unattainable—just like the life you’ve always wanted.

Your hands shake slightly as you sip champagne, the liquid sloshing around in the crystal flute as you bring it to your lips. You don’t care if that is already your fifth glass.

You need something to numb the ache in your chest, something to drown out the sting of Mike’s words.

You fumble for a cigarette, pulling one from the pack with a trembling hand. The sweet strawberry scent fills the air as you lit it, inhaling deeply as the smoke curls around you like a shield. It doesn’t help.

The words he’d said—how you aren’t good enough, how you would never live up to his expectations—replays in your mind over and over.

You try to focus on the cool air, the quiet of the garden, but the ache in your heart doesn't go away. You felt completely exposed out here, the vulnerability that had crept in from Mike’s public humiliation gnawing at your insides.

You didn’t care that you were smoking in a garden meant for guests, you didn’t care about anything at all right now.

How long have you been out here? An hour? Two? You don’t even know anymore. Your head is fuzzy from the alcohol and the smoke, and all you want is for someone to make it stop.

But no one is coming.

Your phone buzzes in your purse, but you don’t bother looking at it. It can be anyone—your parents, Mindy, maybe even Seonghwa.

But the person you truly want to hear from is nowhere to be found.

The door to the garden creaks open behind you, the sound sharp and jarring. You flinch, not needing to turn around to know who it is.

The anger in the footsteps, the unmistakable tension in the air—it could only be Mike.

“YN.” His voice cuts through the night like a blade.

You take another drag from the cigarette, your back stiffening.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to stop acting like an embarrassment!” His words are sharp, accusing “What the fuck are you doing out here, smoking and drinking like some common—”

You whip around to face him, your own anger rising like a tide.

“I don’t need you to lecture me, Mike.”

“Clearly, you need someone to remind you of your place,” He shoots back, his tone venomous “You’re out here, embarrassing the family, and you don’t even care.”

Your lips curl into a bitter smile, your fingers still wrapped tightly around the cigarette.

“You’ve made it clear enough how you feel about me. Why don’t you just get lost and leave me the fuck alone?”

Your voice is raw, but your words are sharp and final.

Mike’s jaw clenches, his anger bubbling over. Before you can react, he steps forward, his hand lashing out and landing across your cheek with a sickening crack.

You gasp, your head snapping to the side from the force of the slap.

For a moment, everything goes still. The sting spreads across your face, your vision blurring, but it isn’t just the slap—it’s the realization that he didn't change during these years and his knack of hitting you when he's upset is still there.

That he can hurt you again, in front of everyone, and no one would stop him.

Your lip splits, the taste of blood mixing with the bitterness in your mouth. Your eyes fill with tears, but you blink them back, refusing to show weakness.

“You'll always be the same, right?” Your voice trembles with the weight of the words.

Mike’s chest heaves with anger, but you don't care. You aren't afraid of him anymore. His cruelty has pushed you to the edge for too long, and now, something inside you snaps.

But as much as you want to say more, to lash out at him for everything he has ever done, your throat tightens. You swallow the lump in your throat, clenching your fists at your sides.

“Get back inside, YN,” He sneers, turning on his heel “You’re making this family look pathetic.”

You stay silent, watching him walk away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty garden. You sink back onto the bench, hands trembling.

You hadn’t expected him to hit you again—but it doesn’t matter. Nothing about this night matters anymore.

What is left for you? Where is Hongjoong?

As you sit there, all you can feel is the weight of his slap and the suffocating silence of the garden.

✮ ⋆

The mansion looms in the distance as you step out of the car, the cold air biting at your skin through your thin dress. The chauffeur doesn’t say a word, and you don’t acknowledge him.

You didn’t say goodbye to anyone at the party—didn’t even care if anyone noticed you slipping out.

You push open the front door, the familiar creak echoing in the grand, empty hall. The house is silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and some maids doing errands.

It’s late, but a light glows faintly from the far side of the room. Dann’s mother is there, cleaning up, as she often does late into the night.

She looks up as you enter, her expression softening into concern the moment she sees you.

“Miss YN?” She says, her voice cautious yet kind “What happened to your lip?”

You touch your fingers to your mouth, wincing slightly at the sting of the torn skin. The dried blood cracks under your touch, but you force a small, dismissive smile.

“It’s nothing,” You say, your voice hoarse and detached.

She frowns, setting the dish towel down “It doesn’t look like nothing. Are you sure you’re alright?”

You nod, unwilling to engage any further “I’m fine. Goodnight.”

Without waiting for a reply, you make your way upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time you reach your room, the weight of the night is unbearable.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment before letting out a shaky breath.

The room is exactly as you left it—immaculate, pristine, and entirely too cold. You slip out of your dress, trading the suffocating fabric for a pair of loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

Crawling into bed, you stare at the ceiling, the events of the night playing over and over in your mind.

Mike’s humiliating speech, the slap that still burns on your cheek, and the conspicuous absence of Hongjoong.

Hongjoong.

You held onto the hope that he would show up, that he’d swoop in and make everything feel bearable, but he didn’t. Not a call, not a message. Just silence.

Your chest tightens, and your throat feels raw as the urge to cry threatens to consume you.

But you don’t. You won’t.

You clench your jaw, swallowing hard against the lump that’s risen in your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away furiously, refusing to let them fall.

Crying feels like defeat, like letting Mike, Hongjoong, and everyone else see how much they’ve gotten to you.

You curl up on your side, staring blankly at the wall. The ache in your chest is suffocating, but you press your lips together, forcing yourself to stay composed.

Mike’s words echo in your ears—his sneer, his disdain. And the silence from Hongjoong—the boy who is supposed to be on your side, who is supposed to see you, really see you—is deafening.

But you won’t cry. You won’t give them that power.

You take a shaky breath and close your eyes, trying to block it all out. The humiliation, the loneliness, the betrayal—they’re all too much, but you won’t let them break you.

You are a Clarke. And YN Clarke doesn’t cry.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong bursts into the venue, his heart pounding from the frantic drive. The event is still lively, guests milling about in elegant attire, but his eyes scan the room for one person only—you.

He pulls out his phone, scrolling to your name, his thumb hovering over the call button. With a shaky breath, he presses it, raising the phone to his ear as he moves through the crowd.

“Come on, pretty. Pick up.” He mutters under his breath.

The line doesn’t even ring—it goes straight to voicemail. His stomach sinks, and a fresh wave of panic washes over him. He tries texting instead:

Joongie♡: YN, I’m so sorry. I’m here now. Where are you? Please let me explain.

He hits send and watches the message sit undelivered, the grey checkmark mocking him.

“Damn it,” He hisses, running a hand through his hair.

“Hongjoong?”

A familiar voice cuts through the din. He turns to see your mother standing a few feet away, her brows knitted together in mild surprise.

“Mrs. Clarke,” He says, relief flooding his tone as he quickly approaches her “Have you seen YN? I’ve been trying to find her.”

Her expression softens, though there’s a trace of sadness in her eyes. She sighs, folding her arms across her chest.

“I haven’t seen her in a while. She might’ve left already.”

Hongjoong’s face falls “Left? Why would she leave?”

Mrs. Clarke hesitates, clearly choosing her words carefully.

“You know how these events can be… overwhelming. Sometimes, she just needs space.”

His heart twists. He can sense there’s more she isn’t saying, but he doesn’t press her. Instead, he nods, his mind racing with worry.

“Did she… say anything before she left? Did she seem okay?”

Her lips press into a thin line, and she glances away briefly “She didn’t say much. But…” She pauses, then shakes her head “I think it’s best if you talk to her yourself. Maybe she is at home.”

Hongjoong nods again, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Thank you. I’ll find her.”

The elegant woman gives him a small, almost apologetic smile before stepping away, leaving Hongjoong standing amidst the glitz and glamour of the party.

The lights feel too bright, the laughter too sharp. He dials your number again, and when it goes straight to voicemail, his frustration bubbles over.

“Pretty, please, call me back,” He says into the phone, his voice strained “I need to talk to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. Please, just… let me know you’re okay.”

He hangs up, his chest heaving. Every second that passes feels like an eternity. He starts pacing, determined, Hongjoong sets off toward the exit, hoping against hope that he’s not too late to make things right.

After a twenty minute drive, Hongjoong pulls up to your house, his heart pounding as he steps out of the car. The sprawling mansion looms in the moonlight, its grandeur only amplifying his anxiety.

He jogs up the stone steps and rings the doorbell, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and a maid greets him. Her expression brightens slightly when she recognizes him.

“Oh, Mr. Hongjoong, you’re a friend of Miss YN, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” He says, his voice laced with urgency “Is she home?”

The maid hesitates, then nods “I think she is in her room now, come in.”

Hongjoong exhales, his chest tightening “Thank you.”

He makes his way through the elegant hallways, his footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floors.

When he reaches your door, he finds it closed. He pauses, then knocks softly.

“YN? It’s me, Hongjoong,” He says, his voice trembling slightly “I… I need to talk to you. Please.”

There’s no response.

He knocks again, this time with more urgency “YN, I’m so sorry. I need you to know what happened. Please, just give me a chance to explain.”

Inside, you sit on the edge of your bed, your knees pulled up to your chest. You can hear every word he’s saying, the emotion in his voice tugging at your heart.

But you don’t move, your resolve firm. You can’t face him right now—not like this.

Hongjoong presses his forehead against the door, his fists clenching at his sides.

“I was tricked,” He says, his voice breaking “Dann… she gave me the wrong address. I thought I was going to the party, but it was all a lie. By the time I realized it was too late. I’m so sorry, YN. I didn’t mean to let you down.”

Still, you remain silent, staring at the door with a mix of anger, sadness, and exhaustion.

You want to believe him—you really do—but the weight of the evening keeps you rooted in place.

Hongjoong leans back, running a hand through his hair “I hate that I wasn’t there for you,” He continues “I know tonight was important to you, and I messed it up. But please, pretty… I care about you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Your heart aches at his words, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Maybe it’s the humiliation still fresh in your mind or the sting of feeling abandoned when you needed him most.

Either way, you decide to stay quiet.

After a long silence, he sighs heavily “I get it, you don’t want to talk to me right now. That’s okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

He lingers by the door for a moment longer, as if hoping for a miracle. When none comes, he finally steps away, his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Inside, you exhale shakily, your hands gripping the edge of the bed. You feel torn, caught between your desire to open the door and the overwhelming need to protect yourself.

Maybe when you feel better—when the pain isn’t so raw—you can talk to him.

But for now, you stay where you are, letting the quiet of the room envelop you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next few days pass in a haze. You keep to your room, the curtains drawn and the world shut out. You don’t want to face anyone—Mike, your parents, your friends, and especially Hongjoong.

The humiliation from the party still lingers like a wound that refuses to heal, and you can’t bear the thought of their pity or judgment.

Your mother knocks on the door each morning, her voice soft and tentative, but you always feign a cough or complain of feeling unwell. It works, for now.

They let you stay hidden away, though you know it’s only a matter of time before they stop accepting your excuses.

By Wednesday, the isolation is starting to feel suffocating, but you still can’t bring yourself to leave.

The knock on your door comes earlier than usual, followed by your mother’s voice.

“Sweetie, it’s me. Can I come in?”

You hesitate, considering pretending to be asleep, but before you can answer, the door creaks open. She steps in, her expression a mixture of worry and sadness as she closes the door behind her.

She sits on the edge of your bed, smoothing the blanket with her manicured hands.

“You’ve been in here for days,” She says gently “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine,” You murmur, your voice hoarse “I just need some rest.”

She reaches out, brushing your hair “You don’t have to pretend with me, YN. I know how hard that night must have been for you.”

Her words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you feel your resolve waver.

But instead of breaking down, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She nods, her gaze softening “That’s okay. But I need you to know that… I’m here for you. No matter what.” You don’t respond, your eyes fixed on the wall. After a moment, she sighs and leans forward, kissing your forehead “I’ll let you rest. Just… don’t shut yourself off completely, okay?”

Later that evening, another knock sounds at your door. This time, it’s your father.

He doesn’t wait for permission before entering, holding a small black box in his hand.

“Darling,” He says, his tone unusually bright “I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

You glance at him warily as he places the box on the bed beside you.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see,” He says, his smile strained.

You sit up slowly, pulling the box closer. Inside, nestled on a velvet cushion, is a sleek key fob. Your breath catches as you recognize the emblem—your father’s favorite luxury brand.

“A car?” You ask, looking up at him.

He nods, his smile faltering slightly “It’s parked in the driveway. I thought… after everything, you deserve something special.”

You stare at the key, a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this—tried to smooth over their failures with expensive gifts. When you were a child, it was toys, then clothes, then trips abroad.

Now, it’s cars.

“Thanks,” You say quietly, your fingers curling around the key.

Your father seems to relax at your response, as if the gesture has absolved him of guilt.

“Take your time, darling. Whenever you’re ready, we can go for a drive.”

You nod, watching as he leaves the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re alone again.

You stare at the key in your hand, the weight of it heavier than it should be. It’s a beautiful gift, but it doesn’t fill the emptiness inside you.

It doesn’t erase the memory of Mike’s words or the ache of feeling like you’re always second best.

You set the key down on your nightstand and lie back against the pillows, closing your eyes. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll feel strong enough to face the world.

But for now, you stay cocooned in your room, the only place where you feel safe.

✮ ⋆

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm, determination burning in your chest. You’ve spent days locked away, hidden from the world, but that ends today.

No one at school knows what really happened that night, and you intend to keep it that way. As far as they’re concerned, you were just under the weather.

Also, after four days, you decide to turn on your phone, which immediately fills up with notifications of missed messages and calls. You decide to take a moment to review it.

10 missed calls from Mindy.

7 missed calls from Brat Woo.

2 missed calls from Hwa.

1 missed call from Mingi.

28 missed calls from Joongie.

486 unread messages.

You don't want to read so many messages, so you prefer to shut it down and start to get ready for the day.

You pull open your closet door and scan through the racks of designer clothes.

After a few moments, you settle on a pearl-white blouse that hugs your frame perfectly, paired with a plaid mini-skirt that shows off your legs, and your favorite jimmy choo’s high heels complete the look, adding the perfect touch of glamour.

Your makeup is flawless, of course. You conceal every imperfection, erasing any hint of the chaos you’ve endured.

The faint scab on your lip vanishes beneath a carefully chosen red lipstick, and the flush of blush gives your cheeks a healthy, radiant glow.

The girl staring back at you in the mirror looks exactly as she should: untouchable, effortless, and every bit the queen bee.

Outside, your new car gleams under the morning sun, a symbol of your parent’s guilt and their way of fixing everything with a price tag.

You don’t care. Today, it’s a weapon, and you know exactly how to use it.

The engine purrs as you pull into the school parking lot, catching everyone’s attention. Heads turn, conversations falter, and by the time you step out, all eyes are on you.

You move with purpose, your heels clicking against the pavement as you stride toward the entrance.

You can feel the weight of their stares, hear the murmurs of curiosity.

“Is that YN’s new car?”

“Didn’t she call in sick for the past few days?”

“She looks gorgeous!”

You smirk inwardly, keeping your expression neutral. Let them wonder. Let them speculate.

None of it matters.

Inside, your friends are waiting near your locker, their faces lighting up as they spot you.

“Babe! You’re back!” Mindy exclaims, her voice tinged with relief “We were so worried about you!”

“What happened? Are you feeling better?” Another friend chimes in.

You shrug casually, opening your locker as if this is just another normal day.

“I’m fine. Just needed a few days to recover from the flu. Nothing serious.”

Mindy’s eyes flicker to your car keys, which you’re holding deliberately in your hand.

“And the car? Is that new?”

You flash her a small smile, dangling the keys for emphasis “A little gift from my parents. They thought I deserved a pick-me-up.”

The group erupts into compliments, fawning over your car and your outfit. It’s almost too easy to redirect their attention.

But as you glance around, your gaze lands on Hongjoong in the distance entering the library.

Maybe it’s time to talk with him about that night, he owes you an apology.

“I see you in class, girls.”

Without waiting for a response, you make your way to the library.

The library is quiet, the faint rustle of pages and soft whispers creating a cocoon of calm. You scan the room until your eyes land on Hongjoong, sitting at a table with a few of his friends.

He looks up just as you approach, his face shifting between surprise and relief.

“YN,” He starts, rising from his seat, “I—”

“Save it for later, Hongjoong,” You cut him off sharply, your tone leaving no room for argument “We need to talk about what you said that night.”

He hesitates, glancing awkwardly at his friends, but your unwavering stare makes him nod and follow you to a secluded corner of the library.

Once you’re alone, you cross your arms, your eyes narrowing.

“Why didn’t you show up at the party? I waited for you for almost three hours, Joong.”

“I know, I know, pretty,” He says immediately, reaching out to steady your waist, his tone pleading “But like I told you that night, Dann tricked me—”

You cut him off again with a scoff, pulling back “Dann? You promised me you wouldn’t talk to her again.”

“And I didn’t start the conversation!” He protests, frustration creeping into his voice “She approached me that day at the mall.”

“What?” You blink, momentarily thrown off. The situation sounds ridiculous, almost laughable.

“That day, I was shopping, and out of nowhere, Dann appeared, asking what I was doing there. When I mentioned the party—” He pauses, sighing heavily as his hand rakes through his hair, “She told me the venue had changed and said she’d send me the new address. I thought it was odd, but when she mentioned your mom inviting her, I believed it.”

Your jaw tightens “And then?”

“I drove to the address she gave me,” He continues, his voice dropping with guilt “It was in the middle of nowhere. No signal, no way to contact you or anyone else. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. I rushed back to the Ritz and then to your house as soon as I could, but…”

You’re silent for a moment, processing his words. None of it makes sense.

Dann, sweet, shy, unassuming Dann, pulling off a plan like this? The thought feels absurd.

Then again, you remind yourself, people aren’t always what they seem.

“And why did you trust her? Why didn’t you call me after she told you that?” You press, your tone sharper now.

Hongjoong’s hands tighten briefly around your waist before he mutters.

“She said maybe you were busy and forgot to tell me. I... I trusted her because she was my friend.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the admission dripping with shame.

“Oh my god, Joongie.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head “I thought you were smart. But I understand. She was your friend, and you didn’t think she’d trick you like that.”

He bites his lip, clearly embarrassed, but when you reach out to cup his cheeks, lifting his gaze to yours, he softens.

“Now you owe me an apology,” You murmur, your lips brushing his lightly “You left me all alone.”

He smiles at your pout, a playful glint in his eyes “I know. What about dinner after school?”

You shake your head, frowning “I want another kind of apology. You know what I mean, Kim Hongjoong.”

And of course, he knows. But he can’t resist teasing you, just a little.

“We can’t do anything indecent here, pretty,” He murmurs, his hands slipping lower to rest on your hips as he pulls you closer “I don’t want to get us in trouble.”

You roll your eyes but let the moment linger for a breath longer before stepping back, a plan already forming in your mind.

“Fine,” You say, straightening your posture and fixing him with a determined look “But this isn’t over. And speaking of people owing me, I’m going to have a little chat with Dann. She has some explaining to do.”

Hongjoong stiffens, his playful demeanor vanishing “YN—maybe you should let it go. You know how Dann is. She’ll twist things, make it worse.”

“Not this time.” Your voice is steady, cold “She went too far, and I’m not letting her get away with it. If she wants to play games, I’ll show her how it’s done.”

He watches as you stride out of the library, determination radiating from every step.

He knows better than to argue when you’re like this, but even he can’t help the twinge of unease at the thought of what’s coming next.

✮ ⋆

The final bell rings, and students rush to leave the school. The hallways are alive with chatter, but you remain by your locker, surrounded by her entourage—Mindy, Wooyoung, Samantha, and a few others. Hongjoong lingers close by, his face a mixture of anticipation and tension.

As the crowd thins, you spot Dann walking down the hall, clutching her books, her head low as if trying to make herself invisible.

Your lips curl into a sharp smile, eyes glinting with cold determination.

“Dann!” You call out, voice slicing through the noise like a whip.

Dann freezes, her face draining of color. Slowly, she turns, her eyes wide as they meet yours.

It's been days since that day at the party and she’s been so nervous about you finding out what she did.

You saunter toward her, your friends following closely, their presence an unspoken threat.

“YN, I have to—” Dann begins, but you cut her off.

“Don’t even try, Dann. I’m not in the mood for your pathetic excuses.” You step closer, your gaze narrowing “I just have one question for you: What made you think you could lie to Hongjoong and me and get away with it?”

Dann swallows hard, glancing at the others, who are watching her like predators sizing up their prey.

“What—”

“Oh, don’t give me that!” You snap, throwing her hands up dramatically “You know what you did that day.” Dann’s panic builds, and her breath catches in her lungs for a moment “You didn’t mean to send Joongie to some random, deserted place? You didn’t mean to ruin my night?”

Dann’s grip tightens on her books “I wasn’t trying to—”

“You weren’t trying to what?” You interrupt, voice dripping with mockery “You weren’t trying to sabotage me? You’re such a bad liar, Dann.”

Mindy smirks, chiming in “I mean, seriously, Dann. Did you really think you could pull this off? You’re so… gullible.”

“And desperate,” Wooyoung adds with a chuckle, earning a snicker from the others.

You cross your arms, your expression one of feigned hurt.

“You know, I even gave you that dress for the party. That expensive designer dress. Because I thought, ‘Hey, maybe Dann deserves a chance to feel special for once.’” You pause “Guess I was wrong.”

Dann’s eyes well up with tears, but she shakes her head, trying to muster a defense.

“YN, I didn’t mean to ruin anything. I just—”

“Just what?” Your voice rises, drawing the attention of a small crowd of lingering students. “Just decided to be so dumb and submissive that you’d believe anything someone told you? Or are you working with someone?”

The accusation hangs in the air, and Dann’s lips part as if to respond, but she quickly closes them, her silence speaking volumes.

To everyone's surprise; Hongjoong steps forward, his jaw tight.

“You know what, Dann? I can’t believe I trusted you. You used to be my friend. I thought you were better than this.”

Dann flinches at his words, her composure slipping further.

“Joong, I…” Dann looks down, her tears threatening to spill over.

You smirk, stepping closer until you’re towering over Dann.

“Did you want me to be mad at him?”

Dann’s face flushes with humiliation, and she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! That’s not what I—”

“Save it, you’re pathetic, Dann. And you’re not just a liar—you’re a bad one. Honestly, I doubt you came up with this plan on your own. Someone must’ve put you up to it. Who was it?”

“Maybe it was Seonghwa, I saw them talking at the party.” Mindy snaps with a grin “Right, Dann?”

Dann remains silent, her lips trembling as she clutches her books tighter. She won't say a word about it, and you frown at the mention of Seonghwa’s name.

Seonghwa talking with her, What the fuck?

“No answer?” You laugh bitterly “I see, you’re too scared to even admit it. Well, let me give you some advice: Stay out of my way. You’re not in my league, Dann. You never were, and never will.”

Wooyoung steps forward again with a grin “You owe YN and Hongjoong an apology.”

“A real one. Not that half-hearted excuse you tried earlier.” Sam adds.

Dann’s tears finally spill over, and she whispers “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

You roll her eyes, turning to your friends.

“Let’s go. I’m done wasting my time on her.”

As they walk away, you glance over your shoulder one last time, lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, and Dann? Don’t ever think about messing with me again. Next time, you won’t get off so easily.”

The crowd disperses, leaving Dann standing alone, her face streaked with tears. Behind her trembling exterior, a flicker of something else—anger or determination—takes root.

✮ ⋆

Dann steps are heavy, her hands trembling slightly as she clutches her bag. Tears still cling to her lashes, but her face is set in a grim determination.

The humiliation at school burns fresh in her mind, your cutting words replaying over and over like a cruel mantra.

By the time she reaches the front door of Clrarke’s mansion, her shame has transformed into anger—a searing, all-consuming fury.

She pushes open the heavy doors without hesitation, her steps echoing through the grand foyer.

There is Mike, sitting comfortably reading something.

“Mike.” She says, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat.

Mike looks at her, his expression cool and calculating as always. He closes the book, his sharp eyes scanning her face.

“Well, well,” He drawls, his lips curling into a smirk “You look like hell. Let me guess—Queen YN had her fun at your expense?”

Dann glares at him, dropping her bag onto the floor.

“She humiliated me again. In front of everyone.”

Mike chuckles, crossing his arms “That’s her style. Did you expect a thank-you card for all your hard work?”

“I expected her to be human for once,” Dann snaps, her voice trembling with emotion “But she’s not. She’s a monster. And I’m done being her punching bag.”

Mike’s smirk widens, a glint of approval in his eyes “Finally. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever grow a backbone.”

Dann takes a deep breath, forcing herself to steady “You were right. About everything. YN needs to be taken down. For good.”

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued “And you’re ready to do what it takes?”

“Yes,” Dann says without hesitation, her fists clenching at her sides “I want to destroy her. Her reputation, her relationships, her entire world—I want it all gone.”

Mike stands up, and walks directly in front of her “Now you’re speaking my language. But do you have a plan, or are you just here to vent?”

Dann lifts her chin, meeting his gaze with newfound determination.

“I thought you might have some ideas. You’re the one who’s been watching her for years, waiting for her to slip up.”

“I do have a few ideas. But if we’re going to do this, we’ll need to be smart. YN’s not stupid—she’ll see a direct attack coming from a mile away.”

Dann nods, her anger simmering just below the surface.

“So what do we do?”

Mike gestures for her to follow him, leading her to a luxurious sitting room where he pours himself a drink.

He takes a slow sip before speaking.

“We chip away at her. Little by little. She’s built this image of perfection and control, but all it takes is one crack for the whole thing to shatter.” He leans against the bar, his eyes gleaming with malice “We start with Hongjoong. Make YN doubt his intentions.”

Dann swallows, the weight of his words settling over her.

“How do we do that?”

Mike swirls his drink lazily, watching Dann with a satisfied smirk.

"Simple," He says "We make her think the one person she trusts most is betraying her."

Dann frowns, confused "Hongjoong? But he’s loyal to her."

He chuckles, shaking his head "Loyalty is fragile. YN’s world is built on power and control—she doesn’t trust anyone completely. If we plant the right seeds, she’ll start questioning even him."

Dann crosses her arms "How? He barely even talks to anyone outside of their little circle."

Mike leans forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

"I’m pretty sure that after that nerd missed the party, he will apologize to her, right? Maybe this time he will fuck her as an apology.” He smiles, his words full of venom.

Dann shifts uncomfortably at Mike’s crude words, but she doesn’t argue. He’s right—Hongjoong will go crawling back to you, desperate to make it up to you.

He’s like a lost puppy when it comes to you, willing to do anything to stay by your side.

Mike watches her reaction carefully, then smirks “And when that happens, we’ll act.”

Dann furrows her brows “What do you mean?”

He sets his glass down with a soft clink, straightening up.

“I’ll tell you later, now go.”

Dann hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her face, but she does what he ordered. She turned around and left the room.

Whatever Mike is planning must be good.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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☆○☆○☆○

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

so much happened this chapter and so much is going to happen next chapter oh reader you are so much better than me cause I would’ve leaped across that table like a frog and punch mike

I HATE THAT MAN!

It was cute seeing reader and hongjoong talk and now everything gonna go downhill probably due to miscommunication or reader getting in their own head.

AHHHHH I CAN’T

i’m excited for the next part keep up the great work! <3

Popular, Boy

☆05: The first fracture.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 10,5k

(sorry, lot of important things)

Summary: Mike's return brings back old wounds, family cruelty, and impossible expectations. Amidst it all, you find solance on Hongjoong.

But alliances form, and the game shifts... you have no idea what's coming.

Warnings: Verbal abuse, family being mean, manipulation, power dynamics, fluff, suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆04 ☆06: The first move.

The living room of the Clarke residence gleams with quiet opulence. Everything is meticulously arranged—vases of freshly cut lilies, trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres, and glasses of sparkling champagne.

Your mother flutters around, checking every last detail, while your father adjusts his tie for the third time.

You sit stiffly on the cream leather sofa, arms crossed. Your outfit—an expertly styled designer ensemble of a short skirt, matching crop top, cropped jacket, and high boots—screams confidence, but your body language betrays your discomfort.

Dann lingers near the edge of the room, notebook in hand, trying to blend in with the staff. She glances between you and your parents, who seem almost giddy with anticipation.

“He’ll be here any moment.” The elegant woman says, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on her skirt.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway cuts through the room. The staff lined up near the entrance, their postures straight and practiced. But you, you don't move.

The front door opens, and Mike strides in, flanked by a crisp breeze. He’s tall and impeccably dressed, his tailored suit hugging his broad shoulders perfectly. His dark hair is slicked back, and his smile is radiant.

“Mike!” Your mother exclaims, rushing to embrace him.

“Mom,” Mike says warmly, wrapping her in a hug “It’s good to be home.”

Your father steps forward, shaking Mike’s hand firmly “Welcome back, son. You’ve been missed.”

Mike turns his charm on the staff next, shaking hands and thanking them for keeping the house in order. He’s polite, almost disarmingly so, his every word and gesture oozing charisma.

Dann watches in awe. She’s heard about Mike because of Seonghwa—YN’s perfect older brother—but seeing him in person is something else entirely. He’s like a prince stepping out of a storybook, all confidence and charm.

“YN,” He says, his tone casual but pointed “You’re quiet.”

Your jaw tightens, but you force a smile “Welcome back.”

There’s no embrace, no handshake. Just those two words, cold and clipped. The air between you hums with unspoken tension, and Dann notices the flicker of amusement in Mike’s eyes.

“Thank you, little sister,” Mike says, his tone condescending despite the warm words “It’s good to see you.” His gaze flicks over your outfit, and his smile tilts “You’ve certainly… embraced your personal style. Very bold, YN.”

“Speaking of outfits,” Your mother interjects, her tone brisk, “Sweetie, I expect you to wear the dress I picked out for you tonight. This isn’t just any dinner, it’s a celebration for Mike’s return, and you need to look the part.”

You scoff, crossing your legs “I think I’m dressed just fine.”

Mike’s gaze lingers on your short skirt and boots, his smirk widening “Oh, you’re definitely making a statement. Not sure it’s the one family would approve of, though.”

You shoot him a glare “Thanks for the unsolicited advice, brother.”

The tension between you two is palpable, and Dann feels caught in the crossfire. To her, Mike seems perfect—charming, kind, and everything you aren't. But the sharpness in your voice and the smugness in Mike’s eyes tell a different story.

“Let’s not bicker,” Your father says quickly, trying to diffuse the moment “Tonight is a family celebration. Son, go get some rest before dinner. Darling, you’ll change, won’t you?”

You don't answer, your lips pressing into a thin line.

“Of course she will,” The tallest says, his tone dripping with condescension “YN always knows how to make an impression.”

As your parents and staff begin leaving the room, Mike lags behind for a moment, catching your eye.

“Still bratty, I see,” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Still idiot, I see.” You snap back under your breath.

Dann catches the exchange, her stomach twisting. There’s more to this ‘perfect brother’ than meets the eye, she realizes, but for now, she pushes the thought aside and trails after the staff, notebook in hand.

Something feels… off.

✮ ⋆

The grand dining room sparkles under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. Every corner of Clarke’s mansion is dressed to perfection, as though the house itself is eager to impress Mike upon his long-awaited return.

The scent of roasted lamb and decadent desserts fills the air, mingling with the low hum of polite conversation.

You sit at the far end of the polished mahogany table, fingers tapping against your wine glass. You're dressed immaculately in a tailored navy dress that your mother picked out for the occasion. Everyone around you gushes over Mike’s accomplishments—the glowing pride of the family.

“Three years, and you’ve outdone yourself, Mike,” Your grandfather says, beaming “A master’s degree from Germany, and already planning your next move. We couldn’t be prouder.”

Mike, seated comfortably at the head of the table like a king, offers a modest shrug, though the grin on his face betrays his satisfaction.

“It’s been a long journey, but worth it. I just want to make sure I uphold the family name.” He gives you a look before he smiles.

Your jaw tightens. You know what’s coming next.

“YN.” Your aunt, Silvia, chimes in, turning to you with a saccharine smile “You’re still in school, right? How’s the business program treating you?”

Fucking business program, you hate it.

You force a smile, your heart racing “It’s… going well. Challenging, but rewarding.”

Mike chuckles, drawing all eyes back to him “Challenging? Business? Come on, YN. You’ve been in undergrad for what, three years now? I could teach you the basics in a week.”

The table erupts into polite laughter, but your cheeks burn. You know the jab isn’t just playful—it’s calculated, meant to belittle you.

“Everyone can go at their own pace and that's okay.” You say, voice sharp enough to make your mother glance at you warningly.

Mike leans back in his chair, swirling his wine “It’s not about pace, YN. It’s about discipline. Focus. Something you’ve always struggled with.”

“That's true, Mikey!” One of the younger cousins laughs “I'm just in my first year of college and it's all too easy, it's not ‘challenging’ as YN says.”

“Maybe the career is only made for men, we are the ones who dominate business in companies.” Your father's brother, William, comments by drinking his wine elegantly.

Everyone laughs at his sexist comment.

"Don't say that, honey!" His wife slaps his arm with a giggle "Your daughter studies the same thing."

"But my daughter is smart and focused." He blurts out with mockery as he gives you a look, and you save yourself the urge to roll your eyes.

"YN is also focused, she has good grades." Your mother says sweetly, defending you.

"But 'good' is not enough, you always have to strive for perfection and not settle for mediocre grades." Mike adds with a shrug.

And the whole table laughs like it's the funniest joke they've ever heard. Your mother shakes her head disapprovingly but says nothing.

Your father clears his throat, trying to shift the conversation, but the damage is done. Mike’s words hang in the air.

Your hands curl into fists under the table. You’ve had enough.

“You always know how to make someone feel bad.” You mutter, just loud enough for Mike to hear.

“What did you say?” He asks, his tone faux-innocent, leaning forward slightly.

“Enough, kids.” Your mother says with an awkward smile.

But Mike isn’t done. He leans closer, his voice low and cutting “You’re a disappointment, YN. You always have been. Pretending to study business when you’re off chasing some frivolous dream.”

You hold your breath when you hear that, that fucking idiot "You don't know anything."

“Fashion design, really? What are you going to do with that, sew costumes for kids’ plays?”

Your parents look at Mike in terror. The topic of your study preferences was always private, so that the rest of the family wouldn't gossip and intrude.

Yes, your parents knew and know about your passion for fashion, since you were a child your dream was to be a designer and create your own brand, but due to the family business they forced you to study business management, and you had to accept without being able to reproach.

Mike knew it too, and still decided to talk.

The table falls silent, and your chest tightens when everyone looks at you with surprise and mockery.

Without noticing, your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I—excuse me.” You stammer, pushing your chair back abruptly.

Your mother calls after you, but you are already halfway to the door. Heels click against the marble floor as you grab your car keys and storm out of the house.

You don't know where you’re going until you’re halfway across town, your phone clutched in your trembling hand. The only person who crosses your mind is Hongjoong, you need Hongjoong right now.

You don't text or call him, you don't need to. You know he’ll be home.

When you reach his house, you knock on the door, heart pounding as you wait.

Hongjoong answers, his hair disheveled and his face scrunched in confusion.

“YN?”

“Can I come in?” You ask, your voice breaking.

Hongjoong watches as you step inside, the soft click of your heels on the polished floor breaking the quiet of the hallway.

Your dress gleams faintly under the light, the kind of fabric and craftsmanship that scream exclusivity. The subtle sheen of your makeup and the designer heels complete the look, making you seem almost out of place in the cozy, modest home.

His heart clenches. He doesn’t ask questions, not yet. Instead, he offers a small, reassuring smile.

“Come in, pretty.” From the dining room, the clinking of cutlery and quiet conversation filters through. Hongjoong glances toward it, hesitating “Uh… we’re having dinner. My parents are home.”

You straighten, brushing your hair away as if steeling yourself “Okay”

He nods and leads you to the dining room. His parents, mid-conversation, look up as you enter.

“Oh.. who’s this beautiful lady?”

You smile shyly at her, and Hongjoong puts his hand on your bare shoulder.

“Mom, Dad,” He says, clearing his throat “This is YN.”

His parents exchange a look, surprise flashing in their eyes. Hongjoong’s mother, a petite woman with a kind face, recovers first.

“YN, it’s nice to meet you. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

You smile politely, your usual sharpness softened “If it’s not too much trouble, thank you.”

“No trouble at all.” His father says, though his gaze lingers briefly on your dress, shoes, even your watch—items that likely cost more than their monthly mortgage.

You glide into the chair with practiced elegance, every movement drawing attention. The table is set simply—a far cry from the elaborate spreads you’re used to—but something about the simplicity feels oddly grounding.

Hongjoong pulls out the chair next to yours, sitting close but not too close. His parents exchange another glance before his mother breaks the silence.

“So, YN, how do you and Hongjoong know each other?”

Your posture stiffens slightly, and Hongjoong tenses, too. If only they knew how you met and the things that Hongjoong has done under your orders and all those humiliations, they would surely kick you out.

You both share a fleeting glance, silently agreeing to tread carefully.

“We’re in the same business program.” Hongjoong says, his voice steady.

You nod, your hands resting lightly on the table “Yes, we’ve worked on a few projects together. Joong’s very… dedicated.”

Hongjoong’s parents smile, though his father’s expression is tinged with curiosity at the way you call his son.

“That’s wonderful,” He says “It’s good to see you making connections, Hongjoong. Your school’s not an easy one to get into.”

You smile faintly, but there’s an underlying tension “It’s very competitive.” You add.

The pretty woman serves the meal—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a crisp salad. The aroma is inviting, but you hesitate for a moment, the simple fare so unlike the complex, perfectly plated dishes you’re accustomed to.

As you eat, Hongjoong’s father can’t help but notice the way you hold the fork, the delicate way you cut the food.

Very elegant and sophisticated.

“So, YN,” He says, his tone conversational but probing “You must be quite driven to be studying at such a prestigious school.”

You pause, your fork halting mid-air “I suppose so. It’s… a good school.”

Again, Hongjoong’s parents share a glance, clearly trying to reconcile the poised, elegant girl in front of them with their down-to-earth son.

“Did you always want to study business?” The female asks gently.

Your hand tightens on the fork, but your smile remains “It's the common choice in my family.”

You say vaguely, your voice betraying none of the resentment you feel. Hongjoong, noticing the slight tension in your posture, jumps in.

“YN’s really good at presentations.” He tries to shift the conversation “She knows how to keep everyone attentive.”

The praise makes you glance at him, your expression softening “And he’s increrible in everythig.” You add a rare note of warmth in your voice.

As the meal winds down, you find yourself surprisingly at ease. The food, while simple, is filling and comforting. The warmth of the room, the unpretentious conversation—it feels like a stark contrast to the cold, high-stakes environment you’re used to.

“You’re welcome here anytime.” Hongjoong’s mother says as they finish, her smile is genuine.

You look at her, and for the first time in a long while, you feel the ache in your chest ease just a little.

“Thank you… that means a lot.”

As Hongjoonng leads you to the living room, you sink into the sofa, the tension in your shoulders finally dissipating.

“Thank you.”

Hongjoong sits beside you, close but respectful “Anytime, pretty.”

After a quiet moment, Hongjoong decides to speak again.

“YN, you don’t have to tell me everything, but… something’s bothering you. Was it your brother? The dinner?”

Your head tilts back, staring at the ceiling as if trying to collect yourself before responding. Your thoughts race, but you don't know how to express them.

You've always been the type of person who keeps your concerns and problems to yourself, not wanting to be a nuisance to others with your stuff. But Hongjoong gives you enough peace of mind to want to tell him a thousand things.

Finally, you sigh, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders.

“It was just… the same thing.” You sigh again “My family acting like Mike is perfect. It’s like nothing I do is ever good enough for them. It’s always ‘Mike this, Mike that,’ and I…” You trail off, your throat tightening “I hate it.”

Hongjoong’s heart twinges with sympathy, and he shifts closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to prove anything to them, YN. You’re incredible the way you are. You don’t need to be him. You’re your own person.”

You smile faintly but it doesn’t reach your eyes “I don’t even know who I am sometimes,” You admit softly “I pretend to be what they want me to be, but I hate it. I hate pretending.”

He leans in slightly, his hand moving from your shoulder to gently cup your face, lifting it so you meet his gaze. His voice is tender, but firm.

“Pretty, you don’t have to pretend. You’re not alone in this, okay? You don’t have to carry this burden by yourself. I’m here for you. I promised you I'd do anything for you, remember?”

You laugh a little knowing what he means, but you know that he didn't promise to do anything just because it's you. He did it because he wanted to come out of the shadows, to be popular.

Your eyes shimmer with unspoken emotion as you watch him, lips parting slightly as if to speak but then closing again. The vulnerability in your gaze makes his heart ache, and without thinking, he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

The moment is warm, comforting, and safe. It’s like nothing else in the world matters right now.

Just then, in the kitchen, Hongjoong’s mother steps back into the shadows, her heart aching for you. She had heard everything—the quiet, broken words, the tenderness between the two. And in that moment, she sees beyond the image you project.

Beneath the designer clothes, the perfect façade, you’re just a girl, trying to navigate the weight of your family’s expectations.

Her heart aches with a kind of pity for you who has everything and yet, nothing at all. She quietly wipes a stray tear from her cheek, then retreats further into the kitchen, giving you the space you need.

Your voice is almost lost in the soft quiet of the room as you look at him once more, a gentle smile beginning to form.

“Thank you, Joongie.” You whisper, eyes reflecting the depth of your unspoken gratitude.

Hongjoong smiles back, his heart full “Always, pretty. Always.”

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

✮ ⋆

The quiet of the house wraps around you as you step inside, the weight of the night still lingering in your bones. It’s late—almost twelve PM—and the house is eerily silent. No one is waiting for you in the hallway.

The fancy dinner is long over, and you haven't bothered to text them to let them know where you were, knowing they wouldn’t care.

You take off your heels, the cool hardwood of the floor brushing against your feet, and walk slowly into the living room.

There, sitting on the couch with his back straight and arms crossed, is Mike.

“Look who finally decided to come back,” He says, his tone as sharp as a knife “Having a little fun, were we? How nice of you to finally come home.”

Your chest tightens as you stop in the doorway. You haven't seen him like this in a while—his arrogance and superiority seem to grow with every moment he’s home. His sharp gaze cuts through you like a blade, but you stand tall, trying to control the fluttering in your stomach.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He sneers, his eyes narrowing as he stands “You think you can just walk in late after disappearing for hours? You’re pathetic.”

Your heart sinks, but you keep a neutral expression “I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“Wait?” Mike scoffs, pacing in front of you “You think I care about waiting? I care about you making a fool of yourself in front of the family. You’ve always been a brat, and you still haven’t learned. You’re not a child anymore, YN. You need to grow up.”

Every word he spits feels like venom, but you know better than to show weakness. You know what he’s doing—tearing you down, making you feel small.

This isn’t new. This is just who he is.

“I’m just trying to live my life, Mike.”

Mike pauses, his smirk widening as he leans closer “Live your life? You’ve been living in a fantasy, little one. You think you can just pretend everything’s fine? Everyone thinks you’re studying business because you'll be part of Dad's company, but you never really think about doing it. You’ve been a joke this whole time. You’re nothing like me. You’ll never be good enough.”

You take the words in, letting them sink in as you have done for so many years. It’s painful, but you know how to endure it. You know how to ignore the voice inside telling you you’re not worthless, that you’re more than what he says.

But tonight, it feels heavier.

“I don’t know why Mom and Dad think you’re this perfect little angel.” You say with mockery, looking him up and down.

He laughs bitterly “Because I am perfect. I’ve done everything right. I’m successful. I’m smart. And unlike you, I know how to get what I want. They should be proud of me. But you, YN? You’re just a spoiled child who’s going to get everything handed to her. And still, you fail. You’ll never be me.”

Your fists clench at your sides, but you don't respond. Instead, you bite your lip, trying to keep your composure. The words are harsh, but you’ve heard them all before. He’s always been the same—deceptively charming and cruel when it matters most.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you,” You say quietly, Hongjoong's sweet words resonate in your mind “It's just… I don't want to be like you.”

Mike looks down at you with disdain, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighs.

“Not even in your dreams could you be like me, pathetic thing.”

You can’t help the flare of anger that rises in your chest at his words, but you suppress it quickly.

Without saying another word, you turn and walk toward the stairs.

From the shadows of the hallway, Dann, who had been listening from the hallway leading to the staff rooms, feels a tightness in her chest. She’s overheard everything, and the way Mike speaks to you… it makes her happy.

Finally someone is taming you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next few days feel like a strange game of charades to you, your home transformed by the presence of your brother. It’s almost like he’s a perfect guest who’s come to stay indefinitely—charming, polite, and always acting like he’s the model son.

He plays the part well, and even the staff, including Dann, are entranced by his manners and wealth. You watch it all from the sidelines, a bitter knot tightening in your chest every time her brother flashes that smile, every time your parents look at him with eyes full of admiration.

And then there’s Dann. She continues her errands around the house, doing what you ask, but now there's an air of something different. She’s captivated by Mike’s presence, stealing glances at him whenever he’s nearby.

She doesn’t know much about him, but the way he carries himself—with that effortless confidence and charm—makes her heart skip.

One afternoon, Dann is walking through the hallway, balancing a tray of snacks for you. As she turns a corner, she almost runs straight into Mike.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Dann stammers, gripping the tray tightly to steady it.

Mike catches the edge of the tray, steadying it with ease “No harm done,” He says with a kind smile. His eyes flick to the contents “For me?”

Dann blinks, flustered “Uh… no, for—uh—someone else.”

“Pity,” Mike teases lightly “But still, it’s impressive. Not everyone takes the time to look after others like this. What’s your name?”

“Dann,” She manages, her cheeks heating.

“Dann,” He repeats, his tone smooth, as if committing it to memory “A beautiful name for a beautiful soul.”

Her breath catches “I-I should go. This is for—”

He raises a hand, cutting her off gently “No need to rush. Take a moment to breathe. You deserve it.”

His smile deepens, and for a moment, Dann feels like she’s the only person in the room. She mutters a shy thank-you and hurries past him, her heart pounding.

Mike watches her go, his expression unreadable. Then, as he turns back toward the study, he chuckles to himself, amused by how easily people fall for a kind word and a smile.

Later, when Dann brings you the tray, Dann’s unusually quiet, and you notice her flushed cheeks and the faint smile she tries to hide.

“What’s with you?” You ask sharply, taking the tray.

“Nothing,” Dann says quickly, shaking her head.

You narrow your eyes “Let me guess—my brother said something to you?” Dann’s face goes red, betraying her “Unbelievable,” You mutter under your breath, setting the tray down “He’s not what you think, Dann.”

Dann hesitates, confused “He’s… he’s nice.”

You let out a bitter laugh “Sure, he’s nice. Keep believing that.”

Dann doesn’t respond, her mind too wrapped up in replaying Mike’s words. To her, he was kind and genuine, a stark contrast to your sharp edges.

You, watching her, feel your frustration boil over. You know your brother’s game too well, and know exactly what he’s doing. But you also know trying to warn someone like Dann would be pointless.

For now, you let it go, biting your tongue as the tension simmers beneath the surface.

✮ ⋆

The next few days, Mike couldn’t help but notice Dann more often. She moved through the house quietly, always carrying something or running an errand.

At first, he assumed she was just part of the household staff, but something about her demeanor didn’t quite fit. She seemed too young, too out of place among the polished, uniformed employees.

One afternoon, as he lounged in the garden sipping coffee, he spotted Dann hurrying across the lawn with a pile of books. He called out to her.

“Hey, Dann!”

She froze mid-step, the books wobbling precariously in her arms. Turning slowly, she offers a hesitant smile.

“Yes, sir?”

Mike winces at the formality. “No need for that. Just Mike is fine.” He gestures to a nearby chair “Come, sit for a moment. Those books won’t run away.”

Dann hesitates, glancing back toward the house “I… I really should get these to—”

“Sit,” Mike insists gently, flashing the same disarming smile he used with everyone “I’m curious about you.”

She reluctantly obeys, setting the books down on a nearby table before perching nervously on the edge of the chair.

“So, Dann,” He begins, leaning forward slightly “I’ve noticed you’re always running around doing things. Are you part of the staff here?”

Dann’s eyes widen “No! I mean—” She fidgeted with her hands “I’m not a staff. I’m… I’m the maid’s daughter.”

“The maid’s daughter?” He echoes, raising a brow. He studies her closely, sensing there is more to the story “Then why are you always doing errands?”

Dann hesitates, clearly uncomfortable. Finally, she sighs, her shoulders slumping. She doesn't think anything will happen if she tells him, he is very kind and understanding.

“It’s because of miss YN.”

“Miss YN?” He repeats with mock.

“She… she ordered me to work for her,” Dann admits, her voice dropping to a whisper. “At a party I accidentally spilled my drink on her dress...”

Mike tilts his head, his smile fading slightly “She ordered you to work for her? What dress?”

“It's a pretty expensive one… I heard her mention something like Chanel.” She explains quickly “She told me to choose between paying for the cost of the dress with money or with small tasks. I don't have the money to pay for the dress, so I’ve been helping her out with errands.”

Mike leans back in his chair, processing this information. A slow smile spread across his face, though there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes.

“So, let me get this straight. YN, my little sister, is making you work off the cost of a dress?” Dann nods, glancing down at her hands. Mike lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head “How long have you worked for her?”

“Maybe, a month ago.”

“Well, Dann, you’ve given me a lot to think about.” Before she can respond, he stands, brushing invisible lint from his pants “Better get back to your books. Wouldn’t want YN to get upset.”

Dann nods quickly, standing to retrieve the books. As she hurries away, Mike watches her go, his expression unreadable.

“Interesting,” He murmurs to himself, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The grand dining room gleamed with elegance, the long table lined with intricate floral arrangements and flickering candlelight. You sit at one end, your mother to your left, and Mike across from you. Your father presides at the head of the table, quietly savoring his wine.

In the shadows of the kitchen doorway, part of the chef’s staff, is there observing the scene as the family begin their meal.

“Sweetie, When will Hongjoong come? It's been more than a week since I saw him.” She smiles kindly while sipping from her cup “Such a lovely boy.”

You smile at the mention of the guy who has been occupying your thoughts lately.

"Tomorrow we have to do an essay for business management class, so he is coming."

Your mom claps her hands with enthusiasm "Amazing! I would love to say hello."

You laugh a little at her sigh, it seems that she likes it more than you would like to admit.

Mike raises an eyebrow in confusion, who the fuck are they talking about?

“Who’s Hongjoong?”

“YN’s close friend. He’s been here many times.” Your mom responds right away “He’s polite, respectful, and always so helpful. And he’s clever, too. I remember when they were working on that literature project. He explained everything to me when I asked.”

Mike smiles mockingly, doing a project together? You, working with someone... It's silly, to Mike this sounds like you taking advantage of a nerd. But his mother is a ray of light, she has no idea.

“I'm sure it's your personal nerd, doing your homework and that, right?”

And he's all right, but that was before everything you went through together during this time.

“Of course not.”

Mike leans back, grinning “No? So why does he always do work with you? Don't you have more friends who want to do projects with you?”

Your mother gets a little upset hearing that “That’s enough, Mike. Hongjoong is a good influence on YN. You could stand to meet him before passing judgment.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s delightful. Just the kind of guy to fit right in at the nerd club.”

“Son, that’s enough. You haven’t even met the boy. Give him a chance before making assumptions.” This time your father says.

“Whatever. But I’m curious… What is his last name? Is his family part of a company or why are you defending him so much?" He asks with mockery.

You glare at him, your jaw clenches “That doesn't matter Mike, don't meddle in my business.”

“Mike, that's enough. I'm not going to allow you to talk like that about a boy as cute as Hongjoong." For the first time your mother speaks seriously to him.

“Sure…”

“Let's change the subject. Mike, you have to prepare your speech when you take your position at the company. The party will take place next week.” Then he looks at you, "You can invite Hongjoong and your other friends, my dear."

You nod while your mother applauds happily again, but Mike only rolls his eyes.

“Instead of focusing on your ‘friends’, you should catch up with college.”

“Mike.” Your father warns him.

“Also, what about that girl running up and down like her personal servant?” He asks with false curiosity.

Your father clears his throat, his gaze landing on Mike “Dann working for YN was agreed upon by us. She’s working for her to settle her debt. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

“Agreed upon by you, maybe,” Your mother interjects, her voice softer but laced with unease. She doesn’t look up, carefully slicing her steak as if her plate demands all her attention “I still think it’s a bit... unorthodox, forcing a young girl into such an arrangement. Just an apology and letting it go would’ve been more appropriate.”

Your father frowns “And what about the consequences of such acts, my love? This way, everyone benefits. Dann gets experience, YN gets help, and the debt is paid.”

Mike’s smirk widens as he watches the exchange, clearly enjoying the tension.

“Experience, huh? Interesting choice of words for running errands and taking verbal beatings.”

“Mike, don’t say that!” Your mother snaps, finally looking up “The staff could misunderstand it.” She murmurs with panic.

“What?” He holds up his hands, feigning innocence “I’m just saying, let’s not sugarcoat it. We all know YN isn’t exactly... sweet.”

You grip your fork tightly, the metal digging into your palm “Just shut your mouth and eat, Mike. Nobody asked for your opinion.”

“YN,” Your father warns, his tone sharp.

Mike chuckles, ignoring him “See, little Dann must be so scared of her.”

Your mother sighs heavily, setting down her knife and fork “Enough of this. We’re not discussing Dann or her situation any further. It’s settled.”

But the older son isn’t done. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze locking with yours.

“You should be careful, YN. People like Dann have limits. Push her too far, and she might push back. Harder than you expect.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, the table falls silent. Your father glares at Mike, but he doesn’t say anything. Your mother busies herself with her glass of wine, avoiding your gaze.

You stand abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor “If we’re done with this delightful family bonding session, I’ll be going now.”

As you leave the dining room, your mother’s voice follows you, tired and resigned “Sweetie, wait—”

But you don’t stop. Mike’s words echo in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if there’s truth in them.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Hongjoong!”

Your mother’s enthusiastic voice fills the grand hallway as the front door swings open to reveal Homgjoong, standing there with his usual boyish grin.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Clarke!” He says, matching her energy. His warm tone makes her giggle in delight.

“She’s upstairs,” Your mother replies, stepping aside to let him in “She mentioned something about working on an essay. You two have been quite busy with school, haven’t you?”

He nods, the picture of politeness “Yes, ma’am. Lots of group projects lately.”

From the top of the grand staircase, Mike’s deep voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“Is this him?” His gaze analyze Hongjoong up and down. His outfit was very different from what Mike expected from a nerd.

Of course the glasses scream ‘nerd’ in all the letters, but the denim jacket over a gray turtleneck shirt with an abstract print, black cargo pants, a gray beanie on his head, and a black crossbody bag complete the look…

Mike didn't know that nerds had evolved during these three years, that now they can mix with others and you wouldn't know they’re a freak..

Hongjoong’s gaze snaps upward, and your brother appears, descending the staircase with a calm but predatory aura. His tailored suit and sharp features radiate authority, the kind that seems designed to make people feel small.

“Yes, this is Hongjoong,” Your mother chimes in, her cheerful tone unwavering.

Hongjoong extends a hand, smiling “Nice to meet you.”

Mike eyes the hand for a moment before taking it. His grip is firm—calculated, even.

“So, you’re the charity case,” He says smoothly, his words laced with a thinly veiled insult.

Hongjoong’s smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers “I guess you could say I’m lucky to have YN as a friend.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk “Friend?”

The tension is palpable, but before it can escalate, your mother interjects “Mike, be nice. Hongjoong is here to help your sister with schoolwork. Don’t scare him off.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mike replies, though the gleam in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Just then, you appear at the top of the staircase, dressed casually but impeccably as always.

“Joong,” You call, your voice warm, though your eyes flick to Mike in a silent warning.

Hongjoong visibly relaxes at the sight of you “Hey, YN.”

You make your way down, shooting a quick glare at your brother before slipping your arm through Hongjoong’s.

“We’ll be in the study room.” You say pointedly, guiding him away.

Mike watches the two of you go, a bemused expression on his face.

✮ ⋆

The study is bathed in the soft afternoon light streaming through the large windows. Papers and books are spread across the table, though most of it remains untouched.

Hongjoong sits comfortably in the large red sofa, pen twirling absentmindedly between his fingers as he watches you pace the room, clearly distracted.

“Are we actually going to work on this essay,” He teases lightly, “Or are you going to wear a hole in the floor?”

You pause mid-step, shooting him a mock glare “Excuse me for needing to think while I walk.”

Hongjoong chuckles, setting his pen down “Thinking about the essay, or something else?”

You sigh and drop into the seat opposite him “Both, maybe.”

For a moment, there’s silence as you both glance at the notes in front of you. Hongjoong flips through the pages absentmindedly before he leans back and studies you.

“You know,” He starts “This is kind of funny.”

“Uh?”

He smirks “The fact that we’re doing an essay on entrepreneurship, and I remember you telling my parents you’re studying business just because it’s a common choice in your family.”

You blink, caught off guard “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” He says, his tone softening “It was hard to miss how uncomfortable you looked when they asked about it.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” You lie, crossing your arms.

Hongjoong tilts his head, giving you a knowing look “Pretty…”

You sigh, dropping the act “Fine. I was uncomfortable. Happy?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table “Not really. I mean, it’s not every day you see Miss pretty YN Clarke—queen bee of the school—looking out of her element. What was that about, anyway?”

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to the notebook in front of you. After a long pause, you speak, your voice quieter than usual.

“I didn’t choose to study business. My parents chose for me.”

He blinks, taken aback “Seriously? But I thought you—”

“Thought I was passionate about business?” You interrupt with a bitter laugh “No. I wanted to study fashion design.”

“Fashion design?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows shot up, his curiosity piqued “You? The future CEO of Clarke Enterprises wanted to design clothes?”

And he can see your potential. You have impeccable taste in fashion, not just in the way you always dress, but also in how you can identify others' styles just by looking at them. And he’s a witness to it—whenever he went shopping with you, you always picked things that matched the style he chose after his research on the subject. Your sense of fashion was enviable.

“Laugh it up,” You mutter, though there’s no heat in your tone.

“I’m not laughing,” Hongjoong assures you. “I’m just surprised. You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“Why would I?” You snap, but your irritation isn’t directed at him “It’s not like it matters. My parents made it clear that ‘passion projects’ don’t pay the bills. Clarke family members study business. That’s just how it is.”

Hongjoong frowns, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by concern. “That doesn’t sound fair.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalant tone. “Life isn’t fair, Joong. Besides, it’s not like I had a choice. My father practically enrolled me himself. My mother didn’t say much, but she didn’t exactly fight for me, either.”

He watches you carefully, his brows furrowed “Do you... regret it?”

“Every day,” You admit quietly “But regret doesn’t change anything. My life’s been mapped out for me since the day I was born. I just… deal with it.”

The silence that follows feels heavy, and for a moment, neither of you knows what to say. Finally, Hongjoong breaks it.

“YN… you don’t have to be what they want you to be.”

You scoff, though his sincerity tugs at something deep inside you “You don’t get it, my family isn’t like yours. I can’t just decide to go against them and do what I want. It’s not that simple.”

Hongjoong leans forward, his voice steady and kind “Maybe it’s not simple. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

You look at him, surprised by the determination in his eyes “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“Because I hate seeing you like this,” He admits “You’re always so confident, so in control. But when you talk about this, it’s like… you’re not yourself.”

You swallow hard, his words hitting closer to home than you’d like to admit.

“I’m just saying,” He continues, his tone gentler now “if you ever want to talk about it, or, you know, vent or anything, I’m here.”

A small, genuine smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks, Joongie.”

“Anytime,” He says with a grin. Then, with a playful tone, he adds “Now, can we actually write this essay? Because I’m not about to fail this class just because my partner has a secret dream of designing couture.”

You roll your eyes, but for the first time that day, you feel a little lighter “Fine. Let’s get to work.”

As the two of you finally turn your attention to the assignment, you can’t help but glance at Hongjoong. For all his flaws, he has a way of making you feel like, just maybe, you don’t have to be alone in this.

And that makes you feel happy and secure.

A couple of minutes later—ten minutes to be exact— starting the draft of your essays, you and Hongjoong are supposedly working, but your proximity makes it clear that focus is not the priority. Papers and pens are scattered across the desk, completely forgotten.

You start talking about other stuff until you settle yourself on his lap, and his hands resting on your thighs as he gazes up at you, clearly captivated.

“You really shouldn’t let him get to you.” Hongjoong says softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Once again the topic of your annoying brother.

You smirk, trailing a finger along his jawline “Mike gets to everyone. It’s his specialty.”

Hongjoong’s hand tightens slightly on your leg “Well, not to me.”

You lean closer, your faces mere inches apart “Good.” You whisper before kissing him.

The moment is charged, but neither of you notices the shadow just outside the door.

Dann stands there, hidden in the hallway, her heart sinking as she watches the scene unfold. Your laughter, Hongjoong’s rapt attention—every detail feels like a dagger to her chest.

Her grip on the doorframe tightens as she fights back tears, her mind racing with anger and jealousy.

As you pull back slightly, your fingers lingering on Hongjoong’s jawline, he gazes up at you with a rare softness. The silence stretches between you, not awkward but charged with unspoken words.

“Pretty,” He begins, his voice a little hoarse as if gathering courage.

You tilt your head, teasingly brushing a strand of his hair back “What is it, nerd?”

Hongjoong chuckles softly, but the sound is nervous. He looks away for a moment, his thumb absently tracing small circles on your thigh.

“I was thinking... Maybe we could go out this weekend. Like, just us. A real date.”

Your breath hitches, though you manage to keep your expression neutral. A date. The word sets off a flutter in your chest that you quickly smother. You can’t let yourself feel this way—not for him.

He’s sweet, in a way that disarms you. And yes, there’s something undeniably magnetic about the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

But there’s also a voice in the back of your mind, sharp and cynical, whispering warnings.

What if he’s just like everyone else? What if he’s only here because being with you makes him feel important?

You’ve seen it before—the fake smiles, the shallow affections of people who only want something from you. It’s always been easier to keep your guard up, to let the world think you’re untouchable.

Still, as you look at him now, with his nervous grin and earnest eyes, a part of you wonders if Hongjoong is different.

“A date, huh?” You echo, a playful smirk tugging at your lips “Are you asking me out, Joongie?”

His grip on your leg tightens ever so slightly as he nods “Yeah, I guess I am.”

You tilt your head, studying him, trying to find some crack in his sincerity. But there’s none. He’s genuine—almost painfully so.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a date.” Your tone is flippant, casual, as if it doesn’t matter. But the faint blush creeping up your cheeks betrays you.

Outside the door, Dann halts mid-step. She had intended to leave, to distance herself from the painful scene, but Hongjoong’s words froze her in place.

A date.

Her breathing stops, and her mind reels, repeating every look, every silly smile he used to give you every time you passed by his friends' table, even before he sat down with your ridiculous social group, and she can't deny how much Hongjoong likes you, even now.

Dann had told herself that he didn’t really mean it, that he was just infatuated, that you didn’t deserve him. But hearing him now, so sincere, so devoted—it feels like a knife twisting deeper into her chest.

She takes a shaky step back, her vision blurring with tears. Her mind is a storm of anger, heartbreak, and self-loathing.

Why her? Why not me?

Dann quietly slips away, her steps quick and silent. But her expression hardens with every step she takes. If there was any doubt before, it’s gone now—she won’t let you keep humiliating her.

Dann rushes down the hallway, her chest tight and her mind swirling with emotion. She doesn’t even notice Mike leaning against the wall near the corner, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, well,” He drawls, his smooth voice stopping her in her tracks “What’s got you running off in tears, Cinderella?”

Dann stiffens, quickly wiping at her eyes and turning to face him “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, his sharp gaze flicking to the study door she just fled from. His curiosity piqued, he steps past her without another word.

Dann doesn’t try to stop him, her head hanging as shame and frustration bubble within her.

Quietly, Mike approaches the slightly ajar study door. His keen eyes take in the scene inside:

YN, sitting on the nerd's lap, whose hands rest possessively on her thighs as they kiss.

Your closeness, the intimate way your fingers trail along Hongjoong’s hair, makes Mike’s smirk widen.

He glances back at Dann, who’s standing frozen in the hallway, her shoulders tense. His mind pieces the puzzle together.

Dann’s crushed expression, your little display with the nerd in his designer clothes, that obviously, Mike knows that you bought for him, and the underlying tension he’s noticed between the two girls.

A cruel but amused thought settles in his mind. Of course, you're using that poor guy to hurt Dann. Classic YN. It’s vicious, but… beautifully done.

Pushing the door slightly closed so you and Hongjoong remain unaware, Mike strides back to Dann. He tilts his head, studying her, his tone feigning concern.

“Looks like my sister is having quite the fun time in there, doesn’t it?” He says casually.

Dann’s head snaps up, her wide eyes filled with panic. “You—you saw?”

Mike shrugs, his smirk softening into something almost comforting.

“It’s hard to miss, really. She does know how to put on a show.” He pauses, letting his words sink in before stepping closer “You like him, don’t you?”

Dann’s face burns, and she quickly shakes her head “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Dann. Don’t insult me by lying,” He says smoothly, his voice low and persuasive. “You like that nerd, it’s written all over your face. You’re smitten, and YN? Well, she knows it. And judging by what I just saw, she’s enjoying rubbing it in.”

Dann’s lips tremble, but she says nothing. The truth in his words stings too much to deny.

Mike’s expression shifts, his voice softening. “It’s cruel, isn’t it? After everything you’ve done for her, she still treats you like this. Like a pawn in her little games.”

Dann bites her lip, her anger and hurt bubbling to the surface “Why are you telling me this? What do you want?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “What I want is irrelevant. What you want, though… That’s what matters, doesn’t it?” He steps even closer, his tone conspiratorial “You want to stop her, don’t you? Make her see what it’s like to be humiliated, to lose everything she holds dear.”

Dann looks at him, her eyes narrowing “Why would you care? She’s your sister.”

Mike smirks again, his gaze hard. “Oh, I care, Dann. But not in the way you think. YN’s gotten away with far too much for far too long. It’s time she learns that actions have consequences. And I think you and I? We can make that happen.”

Dann hesitates, her emotions warring within her. Mike leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Think about it, Dann. Do you really want to keep being her servant, watching her parade around with him, knowing she’s using you? Or do you want to take back some control?” He pulls back, straightening his tie as if the conversation is no more than business.

“The choice is yours. But if you’re tired of being her shadow… You know where to find me.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving Dann standing there, her heart pounding and her thoughts racing.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Dann sits at the back of the school library, nervously twisting the strap of her bag. The place is nearly deserted, the only sounds are the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of a page turning.

She checks her phone for the third time, anxiously glancing at the clock.

Finally, Seonghwa strides in, his usual air of confidence intact. Spotting her, he saunters over, dropping into the chair across from her.

“You’re lucky I don’t hate this place,” He mutters, propping his chin on his hand “Now, what’s so urgent?”

Dann hesitates, her gaze darting around to ensure no one’s within earshot “It’s about Mike.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrows slightly, but he maintains his calm demeanor.

“What about him?”

Dann leans closer, lowering her voice. “He… approached me yesterday. After YN and Hongjoong—” Her voice falters, and she shakes her head, willing herself to stay focused “He saw me upset and, um, he offered me a deal.”

Hwa’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, there’s an unreadable flicker in his expression.

“A deal?”

Dann nods quickly “He said he knows YN’s been using Hongjoong to hurt me, and he wants to help me… to bring her down.”

A smirk slowly spreads across Hwa’s face, but there’s a calculating glint in his eyes.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Dann admits, her voice shaking slightly. “I mean, I hate YN for everything she’s done, and he’s kind. I trust him, but I don’t know…”

“Well, you shouldn’t trust him,” Seonghwa says bluntly “Mike’s not the kind of guy who does anything out of the goodness of his heart. He’ll want something in return, probably something you’re not ready to give.”

Dann bites her lip, her uncertainty clear. His words sound similar to what you told her days ago.

'He's not what you think, Dann.'

“Then what do I do? If I say no, he’ll probably find another way to mess with her. But if I say yes…”

Hwa leans back in his chair, his smirk growing. “You'll say yes.”

“What?” Dann looks at him in shock.

“Think about it,” Hwa says smoothly. “This is an opportunity. Mike’s already got a grudge against YN, and he’s offering you a chance to take her down. Why waste that?”

“But…” Dann hesitates. “He’ll know I’m working with him. He might use me, too.”

Hwa leans forward, his voice low and firm. “That’s where I come in. You agree to his deal, play along with whatever he asks, but you don’t let him know about me. I’ll guide you from the sidelines, help you navigate whatever mess he pulls you into.”

Dann looks at him uncertainty “Why do you want to stay hidden? You and Mike… You know each other, don’t you?”

Hwa’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a more serious expression.

“Our families are close. Too close. If he knows I’m involved, it’ll complicate things. And trust me, you don’t want him digging into your allies.”

Dann frowns, still unsure “So, I’m supposed to be his pawn, but secretly working for you?”

Seonghwa nods “Exactly. Let him think he’s in control, but we’ll be the ones pulling the strings.” He leans back again, his smirk returning. “And when the time comes, we’ll let the golden boy deal with his sister, then make sure he doesn’t come out unscathed, either.”

Dann hesitates for a moment longer before finally nodding.

“Okay… I’ll do it.”

“Good girl,” Hwa says with a grin “Just remember, no matter what Mike says or does, you keep me out of it. Understood?”

“Understood,” Dann says quietly, her resolve hardening.

As Seonghwa gets up to leave, he gives her a final glance.

“Don’t let him intimidate you, Dann. You’re stronger than you think. And with me in your corner, YN won’t stand a chance.”

Dann watches him walk away, her heart pounding. She feels a flicker of hope, but it’s laced with fear.

She’s stepping into dangerous territory, and she knows there’s no turning back now.

✮ ⋆

The evening air feels heavier as Dann makes her way to the agreed meeting spot. Seonghwa’s proposition lingers in her mind, but now, standing face-to-face with Mike, your seemingly perfect older brother, she feels a renewed sense of purpose.

“You’re late.” He remarks, his tone sharp and businesslike.

His piercing gaze studies her, assessing her worth as an ally. Dann crosses her arms defensively.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Mike smirks faintly, leaning back against the wall “Fair enough. So, you’ve decided to take me up on my offer. Good. Let’s not waste time—tell me everything you know about YN and this… Hongjoong guy.”

Dann hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. Is she really doing this? Betraying her values?

But then she recalls the laughter, the dismissive looks, and the countless times you made her feel small.

Her jaw tightens “Hongjoong used to be normal,” She begins, her voice steady but bitter “He had his own friends. He was part of that freak crowd. Good grades, nothing special. Just a regular guy trying to get by.”

Mike arches an eyebrow, intrigued “And now?”

“Now?” Dann scoffs, bitterness seeping into her tone “Now, he’s your sister’s lapdog. But before that, he was part of the ‘slaves’—as your sister and her friends called them. The kids who did their homework, their projects, whatever they didn’t feel like doing themselves.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Mike’s face, though he quickly masks it.

“Go on.”

“YN and her crew, they humiliated him. Constantly. He was a joke to them. They used him, mocked him, and then, one day, out of nowhere, YN decides he’s worthy of her attention. He just… sat with her at lunch one day, like it was the most normal thing in the world. After that, he started hanging out with them, ditching his old friends. Forgot about them completely.”

Mike’s expression hardens as he listens. He processes the information quickly, the gears in his mind already turning.

“So, you’re saying she picked him up like a… project?”

Dann nods “That’s exactly what it looks like. But the weird part is… he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s completely loyal to her. It’s like she has him wrapped around her finger.”

The older man chuckles darkly, his smile cold “That sounds like my little sister, all right. Always taking what she wants without a second thought.”

Dann swallows hard, her hands clenching into fists “She doesn’t deserve him. And he doesn’t deserve to just… get away with forgetting where he came from.”

Mike leans forward, his voice low and commanding “You’re absolutely right. That’s why we’re going to remind him—and her—that actions have consequences. But I need more. Details, patterns, vulnerabilities. I want to know everything she’s hiding.”

Dann hesitates, her mind flicking briefly to Seonghwa’s warning not to involve him. She decides to steer clear of mentioning her.

“The others, Mindy, Mingi, San, and Wooyoung, they’re all in her circle, part of the same game. They cover for her, laugh at her jokes, make sure no one crosses her. They’re as bad as she is, if not worse.”

Mike nods slowly. He knows all of your friends, but where is little Park Seonghwa? You used to be inseparable.

His expression is one of calculated determination “Good. That’s a start. Keep watching, keep listening. I want updates on every little thing. The more I know, the easier it’ll be to tear her down.”

Dann feels a chill run through her as she realizes just how serious Mike is. But she doesn’t back down. Dann bites her lip, glancing at him.

“There’s something else—something about Hongjoong.” His eyebrows lift slightly, urging her to continue “He… he always feels like he has to stay on YN’s good side,” She says slowly, her voice tinged with both resentment and a hint of sadness “Even when she’s wrong, even when she’s downright cruel.”

Mike narrows his eyes “What do you mean?”

Dann looks away, the memory of that day in the cafeteria flooding back “There was this one time. It wasn’t long after he started sitting with her, maybe a couple of weeks. YN was in one of her moods, and she was picking on me—making me carry her bag, fetch her coffee, stupid stuff like that.” Her voice trembles slightly, but she forces herself to keep going. “Hongjoong... He didn’t say a word.”

“Typical YN. But Hongjoong? That doesn’t sound like the hero type you’re making him out to be.”

“That’s the thing,” Dann says bitterly. “He’s not. Not really. He just… stood there, watching, like he didn’t want to risk making her angry.” She pauses, swallowing the lump in her throat. “But one day in the cafeteria, something happened. YN took it too far.”

“What did she do?” He asks, his tone colder now.

“I dropped her drink over her purse, Mindy made me get on my knees and beg YN's forgiveness...” Dann says quietly, her cheeks flushing with humiliation even at the memory. “And when I refused, YN stepped on my hand mercilessly. Everyone was laughing, pointing, but Hongjoong defended me… he told her to stop, and after he went after me.”

Mike tilts his head, intrigued “He stood up to her?”

“For a moment,” Dann says with a dry laugh “But you know what happened after that? She ignored him. For days. Didn’t talk to him, didn’t look at him. And Hongjoong? He couldn’t handle it. After a few days…. He apologized to her. For defending me that day in the cafeteria.” Dann says softly, bitterness slipping into her tone.

He arches an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued “And how do you know that?”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, remembering the explicit scene she saw that night, debating whether to answer.

“Because… I saw them.” She mutters.

“Saw them?” He presses, leaning forward slightly.

“At Wooyoung’s party,” Dann explains, her voice shaking, “They went upstairs together. I—I didn’t see everything, but when they came back, YN looked… satisfied. And Hongjoong looked…”

Her voice trails off, the implications hanging in the air. Mike’s lips twitch into a smirk, the pieces clicking together in his mind.

“Ah,” He drawls, a hint of amusement in his tone “So that’s how he managed to crawl his way into her good graces again.”

Dann bites her lip but says nothing, her face burning with a mix of shame and jealousy.

Mike chuckles, crossing his arms “Poor little Hongjoong. He’s so desperate to stay on YN’s good side, he’ll do whatever it takes, won’t he?” His smirk grows wider, more cruel “I’m almost impressed. Almost.” Dann looks down at her hands, refusing to meet his gaze “Sounds like he’s more afraid of being cast out than he is of losing his integrity. That’s good to know.”

Dann looks at him, frowning slightly “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that we can use that. If Hongjoong’s loyalty to YN is built on fear of losing her approval, it’s only a matter of time before he breaks.” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper “People like that are easy to manipulate. You just have to know where to push.”

Dann hesitates, her gaze darting to the floor before meeting Mike’s calculating eyes.

“There’s one more thing,” She says cautiously.

“Go on.”

“Hongjoong… he asked YN out on a date,” Dann reveals, bitterness lacing her tone “I don’t know when or where, but he did.”

Mike’s expression darkens, a smirk curling at his lips.

“Now he’s inviting her on dates, playing the doting ‘boyfriend’ while she pulls the strings. It’s almost… poetic.” He leans forward again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper “You know this fairytale won’t last, right? Once the thrill of the game wears off, they’ll both be exactly where they belong—crumbling.”

Unknown to Dann or Mike, you have just rounded the corner, your footsteps halting as you overhears your brother’s mocking voice. You step back into the shadows, your breath catching in your throat.

How does he know about the date?

Your stomach churns. You are drawn to Hongjoong—his warmth, his loyalty, the way he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe—but you can’t bring yourself to admit it.

Pride keeps your walls up, but fear builds them higher.

Fear that Hongjoong’s interest is just another way to climb to the top, that he’s using you like everyone else in your life seems to.

You clench your fists, forcing yourself to keep listening as Mike chuckles darkly.

“Well,” He continues, leaning back against the wall “Let them have their little fairytale moment. Let them hold hands, kiss under the stars, and pretend it’s all perfect.” He pauses, his smirk turning cruel “Because once it ends—and it will end—it’s going to crash down so hard they won’t know what hit them.”

You feel your chest tighten, your brother’s words hitting a nerve you didn’t even realize was raw. You press your back against the wall, your breathing shallow as you fight the urge to burst in and confront them.

Instead, you slip away quietly, mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Hongjoong asked you out…

But what if Mike’s right? What if it’s all just a game to him?

The idea sends a pang of vulnerability through your chest, one of you quickly smothering with anger.

No one uses you, you think fiercely, even as your heart betrays you with the smallest flicker of hope.

As you leave, Dann and Mike have done their chant. As Dann turns to leave, Mike’s voice stops her.

“Oh, and Dann,” He says, his tone almost casual but laced with menace “If you try to cross me or withhold anything… you’ll regret it.”

Dann doesn’t respond. She just walks away, her heart pounding in her chest.

She’s in too deep now, and there’s no turning back.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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