#maybe really good friends who kiss ig | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starsval · 10 months

Text

wonderland

remus lupin x reader

summary: you and remus find wonderland, or, you fall in love, even if it's not perfect.

word count: 7,7k

warnings: remus has a mullet because i said so, kissing, mentions of s*x lol, like, it happened, reader is pureblood so the cruciatus curse ig, punching, remus being mean, reader gets called a b*tch, lower case intended, no use of y/n

a/n: this took forever and i don't even think i like it, but still, thanks to @myriadmoons and @aastonishment for helping me writing this, love u<3

btw idk why i called this wonderland, it was originally called dancing with our hands tied but i didn't end up writing someone that fit, and for some reason there were lyrics of wonderland on the top of the document since i've been writing it so yeah

"how's my favourite girl doing?" sirius talks as he puts an arm over your shoulders, just as james takes the book out of your hands.

"sirius black and james potter talking to me when we're not at a pureblood party? what's happening?"

"don't be mean, you know we love you" james replies, putting the book behind his back, so you wouldn't be able to get it even if sirius let you go.

"we realised we rarely talk to you, which is sad because you're one of the only pureblood people we actually like" sirius then lets you go to play with your hair as he talks.

"so, we wanted to invite you to the party we're throwing tonight, at the gryffindor common room" james says, but he quickly looks behind you and his friend.

"you invite me to a party, so we can talk?" you ask, taking advantage of james' sudden distraction when regulus walks past to take your book back.

"yes, we want to get to know you" sirius is the one who talks now, unaware of the reason his friend suddenly stopped talking

"okay, i'll see you there" you tell them, walking away.

"what? really? was it that easy?" sirius asks, shocked.

"yes, i'll see you there, bye"

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"they don't know that you always go to the parties?" lily asks as she puts on her earrings, looking on your mirror.

"i tend to hide from them" you tell them from your bed.

"why?" she questions, you shrug, unable to give her an answer.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"so, what's your type?" sirius finds you while you were choosing something to drink.

"what?" you ask him, accepting the drink he recommends you.

"what kind of person do you like, men, women, tall, short?"

"tall skinny men with messy mullets, when it looks like they'll break if you breathe too hard on them?" sirius' eyes seem to light up with your answer.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"she's just like you, she likes books and stuff, i swear you'll like her" sirius insists, following remus through the hall, heading to the library.

"books and stuff? that's all you know about me?"

"i'm telling you i found your soulmate and you care about that?"

"yes."

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

you were in the library, focused on your book when three people sat on your table. you look up to find sirius, james and who you know is called remus, maybe your eyes focus on the last one for a bit when sirius talks.

"we need help" he says, pulling out a book.

"what?" you ask, uninterested in anything they have to say.

"we need help, you're like the smartest person we know" this time james is the one who talks.

"and why would i help you?"

"because you're a good person?" you don't change your expression "and we'll buy you chocolate the next time we go to hogsmeade"

"help with what?" this time, the boy that caught your eye talks.

"we need to learn how to do this charm" he points to the book, and maybe you look at his hand before reading the words he's pointing to. you also notice how sirius and james smile when remus talks.

"why would you need to know how to turn someone's clothes pink, permanently?" you ask, they all look at each other before looking at you. you sigh "why would i know how to do this?"

"i'd quite fall in love with you if you did" sirius talks. "but you're smart, you'll be able to learn it" you start packing your things. "is that a yes?"

"what do i win?" you ask, already standing.

"chocolate" you start to walk away, leaving the book there. "we'll give you alcohol at the next pureblood party" you smile before grabbing the book.

"i'll tell you as soon as i get it"

they all hear you say goodbye to peter before he sits.

"why did she talk to you?" james asks.

"we're friends?" peter explains, getting started with his homework.

"soooo… do you like her?" sirius asks remus, who just rolls his eyes before getting up.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the next time he sees you, you're walking to him, who's reading at the library. you put the book with the charm before him, and quickly sit besides him.

"i know how to do the charm… " you wait for him to introduce himself.

"remus, remus lupin" he answers, putting his book aside.

"remus, right" you talk, like you didn't know his name before.

you explain how to do it, and after he gets the theory right, all there's left to do is practise it.

"i'll do one of his socks and you'll do the other one" you point at snape, who has glared at you since you've been here.

"i didn't expect you to be like this" remus says, smiling, before slowly pulling out his wand.

"what did you expect?"

"i don't know, sirius and james don't usually talk about you"

"i wonder why" you smile, before quietly charming one of snape's socks, turning it bright pink. "your turn"

remus copies your actions, successfully turning snape's left sock pink. you look at each other, quietly laughing, and quickly pack your things so you can walk out before he notices.

you walk next to him in the hallway, though neither of you know where you're going.

"what do you need the charm for?" you ask him.

"we're pranking someone" he explains.

"should i be scared?" you question and he chuckles.

"no, your clothes will be safe"

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the next time you talk, he's the one who approaches you.

"can i sit here?" he points at the chair next to you "i want to study but they're being to loud" you nod, and you talk as he sits.

"why don't you do a silent charm on them?" he chuckles.

"they'll find a way to be even louder"

and that's how it starts, neither of you know why, but since then, we you enter the library, you immediately look for each other.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"you're the one who did that research on werewolves aren't you? teachers don't stop talking about how good it is" some guy asks you as he stands in front of you, the table in between you two.

"yes" he was one of those pureblood guys, who only cared about their status.

"you didn't talk about them being bad people" you stare at him, trying to find out why he's telling you that. "i just thought you'd like someone to tell you about your mistake"

"it's not a mistake, they aren't bad people" you tell him.

"well, then you're wrong, they're obviously bad" he rolls his eyes, like it's obvious that he's right.

"did you just come here to talk shit about werewolves?" you focus on your homework, mentally aiming in case you have to throw something at him.

"no, i came here to see if you were a respectable pureblood, but let me guess, you fight for elves' rights too?" he seems upset with you, but he doesn't leave, instead, he looks at you like a challenge.

"what, you want me to join your cause too and fight for arseholes' rights? maybe we should put your face on the banner so they know how one looks" you smile sarcastically at him.

"what is wrong with you? i just wanted to let you know that werewolves are bad and you're being a bitch" he seems actually upset, his superior grin gone now.

"oh, so you were looking out for me? what would I do without people minding my business? now just shut up and maybe look into your prejudices instead of my life" you stop looking at him.

"how can you think that they aren't bad? i thought you were smart" now he seems offended that you aren't like he imagined, but maybe he thinks that he can change you, because he smiles again.

"sorry to disappoint you. and, something can be dangerous but good at the same time, just because they have claws doesn't mean they'd stab you, but maybe a girl who’s been bothered by you will" you say, as his eyes go to the pen on your hands.

“did you just threaten me?” he has the audacity to look offended as he talks.

“i don’t know, did i? a bitch like me wouldn’t know” you smile, faking innocence.

"you’re fucking crazy” he mutters as he turns around.

when he leaves -not before insulting you again-, neither of you notice a certain tall guy, with scars on his face and a knitted sweater standing around a bookcase, listening to all the conversation.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

you don’t know how, but james and sirius convinced you to hang out with the marauders, maybe the mention of some boy with honey eyes and a mullet, but still. you find yourself on the gryffindor common room, listening to them as they tell you about their best pranks.

and remus must’ve sensed that you’re cold, because the next thing you know is that hes handing you his sweater.

“what?” you ask him

"you're cold" he shrugs.

"but, what about you?" you question, not taking the sweater.

"i'm fine, just put in on love" you obey, thanking him before looking back at james and peter, acting as you're not noticing sirius' smile.

when you finally get up to go back to your room, while peter, james and sirius are too distracted talking to frank, you take of the sweater and hand it to remus.

"what?" he asks, frowning.

"it's yours"

"you can give it to me other day"

"but i won't need it"

"love, just let me have an excuse to talk to you" he tells you, and you stop for a moment before answering, not believing him.

"you don't need an excuse to talk to me" he smiles.

"keep it anyway"

"if you insist" he kisses your cheek goodbye, and that night you're only thinking about him.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"please just this once" james asks, and it looks like he's actually going to beg you to help them.

"i don't have time for pranks" you walk away, and the four marauders immediately follow you.

"you just need to distract him" sirius talks, walking to stand in front of you.

"and why would i do that?" you ask, going around him.

"because you appreciate our friendship?" this time is peter who talks, and you actually think about it for a second.

"i don't-" before you can finish, remus intervenes.

"love, just this once, okay? then we won't bother you" and you know it's not true, that they will bother you. but every doubt you had disappeared as soon as he talked. so you nod.

"where is he?"

and that's how you find yourself talking to binns, asking him about his class, solving questions you never had.

then you see remus walking towards you, looking so innocent, and you keep nodding at binns, like you're so interested in what he's saying.

when he turns around due to the sound of an explosion that you definitely had no idea about, remus walks next to you, grabbing your hand, and suddenly you're running down the hallway next to him.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

remus’ face is so close to yours that your noses are practically touching as you giggle.

“why are we hiding?” you ask, a smile not leaving your face and his hand not letting go of yours.

“because, certain friends of ours are bothering me" he closes his eyes, his forehead on yours as he talks.

"what if they're not bothering me?" you joke, sarcasm in your tone.

"oh, so you're saying I dragged you into this cupboard?" he pulls away, his hand on your chest as he acts offended.

"yes, i didn't expect this behaviour from you, lupin" he rolls his eyes at the mention of his last name, as you laugh.

"then leave" he challenges, but his hand doesn't let go of yours.

"ok" you say, but you don't move.

when you walk out of the cupboard, both of you hear people talking.

"do you think they're dating?"

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

you're just peacefully lying on your bed, reading a book remus had lent you when someone opens your door. you assume it's one of your roommates when that someone approaches you, grabs the book from your hands, and turns you so you're on your back. just to lie on top of you.

"hi" you say, not sure what to do when he puts his head on your chest and closes his eyes.

"hi love" he replies. and after a while he lifts his head, grabs your hand and puts it on his hair.

"what are you doing?" you question him.

"touch my hair" he demands, and you don't, just to mess with him.

"what if i don't want to?" you smile, and he groans.

then, when he notices that you're being serious, he puts his head up once again, this time to glare at you.

he repeats his actions and puts your hand on his hair, and closes his eyes again.

"don't move"

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"what did you do?" you ask remus as he sits in your bed.

"they were talking shit" he says as you go to the bathroom to look for the first aid kit you keep in there.

"you got into a fight because they were talking shit?" you stand in front of him, in between his legs.

he doesn't answer, instead, he winces when you start cleaning his face.

"remus?" you insist, waiting for an answer

"yes?" he acts oblivious, though it doesn't last much, as you start cleaning his face again, you mutter a quiet sorry before talking again.

"why the fuck did you get into a fight?"

"they were talking sh-" you glare at him.

"lupin"

"last name basis?" he tries to smile at you, but you turn his face to the side so you can look at the bruise forming on his cheek.

"yes, answer" he sighs before talking.

"i told you, they were talking shit" you keep glaring at him until he talks again "they were talking shit about you"

you stop moving for a second, processing the information.

"you got into a fight because they were talking shit about me?"

"yes" he stares at you, waiting for a reaction.

"are you fucking stupid?"

"maybe that wasn't the reaction i expected" he mutters to himself.

"you are actually stupid" you don't talk again, you just focus on cleaning his face, which means he has a lot of time to talk.

"what did you want me to do? i just couldn't stand there as he was saying how you were a bitch and shit like that" he groans when you don't answer "i warned them, i said that if they didn't stop i'd punch them"

"oh, you warned them, how nice" you reply, sarcastically.

"don't be mad at me, please" he wraps his arms around your legs, and puts his head on your stomach.

"what do you want me to do?" you put your hand on his hair.

"i don't care, just don't be mad at me"

"oh, so i should just congratulate you? thank you so much remus for defending me, should i kiss you to show my gratitude?"

"you could kiss me, not because of that, but you could" you don't even acknowledge him as you walk to the bathroom to throw away everything you used to clean his face.

when you come back, he's in front of you, touching your cheek as he talks.

"you're not gonna say anything?" he asks, as you try your best to not look away from his eyes.

"about what?" he chuckles, but doesn't move his hand away from your face.

"about the fact that i said that you could kiss me" you fail your goal, because your eyes immediately go to his lips. and of course, he notices.

"what do you want me to say?" you ask, rolling your eyes at his smirk.

"i think the question is what i want you to do"

"you just got into a fight" you remind him.

"just because you're mad doesn't mean you can't kiss me"

"i know"

and you really know, so you kiss him. and it starts as a sweet kiss, slow, just to prove that it's real. but then one of his hands goes to the back of your neck and the other cups your jaw.

your hands go to the back of his neck, finding balance when he pulls you closer to him.

you pull away for a second, breathing heavily as you look at each other's eyes.

"we shouldn't do this" you remind him.

"i know" he says, slowly walking so you have to walk back.

"i'm still mad at you" you tell him, sitting in your bed, looking up at him.

"i got into a fight because of you and you say that?" he smirks, pushing you so you have no choice but to lie down.

one of his knees rests in between your legs, his hands on both sides of your head. your hands go to the back of his neck again.

"you wound me" he tells you, before kissing your neck.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

you had plans today, it was friday and you had no classes after lunch, so you were gonna start getting ready and maybe drinking with the girls before going to the party the gryffindor were hosting.

but those plans got a bit ruined when you got a letter from your family during lunch, which usually meant bad news.

you don't really remember a lot from the letter, all you know is that you had two choices: marrying barty or getting disowned.

after reading the letter, all you can do is put it in your pocket and try to stop the tears coming from your eyes. you don't even look at your friends or at the food that remus put on your plate. instead, you think about the words you just read.

"i have to go" you suddenly get up, grab your things and walk away, not noticing the concerned looks on your friends faces, especially on remus'.

they all stare at you as you walk out the great hall.

you find an empty hall and sit in one of the windows, finally letting out the tears. you don't long how long you stay like that, but suddenly someone walks next to you.

"hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay" all you notice are the tears running down your face, and remus' arms around you. as he holds you and tells you that everything is fine.

once you calm down, he waits a bit to ask

"what happened? do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, and you don't even look at him, not wanting to see the worry in his eyes.

"no, it's okay" he seems disappointed with your answer, but doesn't stop rubbing your back "thank you"

"it's nothing" he tries to find something to say, something to comfort you, but before he can even think of anything, you get up.

"you're going to the party, right?" you look at him, drying your tears.

"are you gonna go?" he asks, frowning.

"yes" he seems a bit surprised, because now you're smiling.

"then yes" you smile even more at his answer.

"i'll see you there" you give him a quick peck on his cheek before walking away.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the next time remus sees you, you're dancing, lily and marlene next to you.

he stands away for a bit, not in the mood to dance, but when he sees you're gonna refill your cup for the fifth time since he has been there. he decides to approach you.

"hi" he says, standing next to you.

"hi remus" you smile at him, drinking from your now full cup.

"how many of those have you had?" he asks.

"i don't know, seven, maybe eight? who cares" you tell him, holding his hand and dragging him to the dance floor, but he quickly redirects you to one of the sofas.

"i do, you're gonna pass out if you keep drinking" he says as he tries to get the cup from your hand, but you quickly move your hand away and frown.

"i'll be okay"

"no you won't"

"i'm not even that drunk"

"you saw sirius and called him reggie" you smile, remembering the horrified look in sirius' eyes.

"they look alike" you shrug.

"you should stop drinking"

"i'll be okay" he tries to reply, tries to tell you that maybe you won't, but you get up, and before he can even stand up, you get lost among the people.

the next time he sees you, you're on the couch, head in your hands as you try to stop the tears from your eyes.

remus sits next to you. a hand on you back as he leans to see your face.

"are you drunk?" you nod "do you want to go to sleep" you nod, so he gets up and holds your hand, making your way through the crowd.

once you reach the hall, he doesn't let go of your hand. he notices that something's wrong, he notices that you haven't complained to sirius about being in a pureblood family, like you do each time you receive a letter from them. he notices that you're trying not to cry. he notices that you're barely holding his hand, maybe it's because you're drunk or you're too sad to.

and he wants to say something, he wants to help. but he decides to wait until you're in your room. he helps you get your makeup off and change into your pjs. he's folding your clothes while you're sitting on the side of your bed when he hears smalls sobs.

he immediately sits next to you, drying your tears.

"it's okay, everything will be alright" he hugs you, mentally cursing when you shake your head.

"you don't get it" you tell him, in between sobs.

"then explain it to me" he says, wondering if it's the same thing as what happened at lunch.

"i can't" you sigh, pulling away from him as you dry your tears.

"yes you can, i want to help you" his hands go to your face, holding you.

"you can't-" you insist, putting your hands over his.

"please let me help"

"remus-"

"i don't care if it's hard, i want to help" he insists, staring at your eyes.

"let's sleep" he knows better than to insist more, so he just lets you sleep.

when you wake up, you don't talk, you just walk with him to breakfast, and when you're finished, you walk away, not letting him know where you're going.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"i don't know what's happening in between us, but-" you look away from his eyes "i can't do this"

"what?" he asks, praying that he's dreaming, or that it's a bad joke, praying that you're not breaking up with him, even if you're not together.

"what did i do? what happened?" he tries to find your gaze.

"you didn't do anything, i just can't" i have to marry someone else.

"let me fix it, whatever i did, let me fix it, you can hate me but don't go away"

"i'll probably leave school as soon as i can" you admit, you don't even know why, you just don't want to disappear without explanations.

"what? no, you can't leave" he panics, he looks around trying to find someone laughing at him. he doesn't.

"i'm sorry" you talk, unable to look at his eyes.

"don't, please, don't apologise" he says, grabbing your hands, in case you want to run away.

"i'm so sorry" you repeat.

"you don't have to do that" he insists, because he doesn't want to lose you.

"i don't want to hurt you" you tell him, thinking about the letter your parents just sent you, thinking about your future, which is already decided, not by the stars, but by your family.

"then stay, stay here, with me" he pulls your hands, so your bodies are closer.

"you know i can't" you lament, even though he doesn't know that much.

"yes you can, you just have to try" he suddenly lets your hands go, taking a step away from you. and you try to get mad at him, but you can't, not when he's looking that hurt, hurt by you.

"remus-" you try to get him to listen, maybe if he gives you a chance, you'll show the letter to him, you'll explain everything to him. how you have no choice but to listen to your parents.

"are you even sorry? you don't seem to have tried to stay" you know he doesn't mean it, he knows he doesn't mean it. but it's better that way, it'll be easier if he's mad at you. so you don't answer. you just stare at him.

"you're not gonna answer?" he asks, tears on the corner of both of your eyes. "i thought you liked me" you swear you can feel your heart break as the words leave his mouth.

"i do-" he cuts you off.

"then why don't you stay? is it just a game to you? you wanted to play with me?" he keeps talking, he tries to stop, he wants to, but the hurt in his heart makes him keep going.

"i didn't, remus, it's not that easy" you tell him, begging him to understand.

"i never said i wanted things to be easy. especially not with you" he fights the urge to walk away, thinking that maybe there's a chance that you'll change your mind.

"i don't want to hurt you" you repeat, maybe more to remind you than to him.

"you're already hurting me"

"you have to understand"

"when you defended werewolves from that guy you already knew i was one didn't you? maybe he was right and you're a bitch after all, did you tell him that just to shag me?" he doesn't even blink as he talks, pretending he's not mad at himself right now, even more than with you.

"you don't mean that" you say as the tears fall from your eyes.

"oh, i do" that's what it takes for him to finally walk away, letting the tears out of his eyes.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

you couldn't focus, it was all too much. the pain from the unforgivable curse, the sadness from your own family doing that, the realisation that you could never go back to your house.

all you could do is try to not pass out as you walk to the potter's mansion.

once you reach their door, and ring it, you wait. you don't know if it was ten seconds, ten minutes or even ten hours. all you know is that when james opens the door, you practically throw yourself at him, who catches you as he calls for his parents.

"i'm sorry" you whisper in between sobs.

"it's okay, you'll be okay, everything's going to be fine" james tries to not show the concern on his voice, he really tries, but everyone must've sense it, because remus, sirius and peter quickly appear, staring at you as effie kneels down next to you.

when you finally pass out, all you know is that it hurts, everything hurts.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

you wake up with effie folding clothes next to you.

"oh hi sweetie, how are you feeling?" she immediately sits next to you, touching your forehead to check your temperature.

"good" you answer, quietly.

"you have clothes here, you can take a shower and i'll make dinner" she walks to the door as you sit up.

"effie, thank you so much, you don't have to do this, i'll be okay"

"we'll talk later" she doesn't give you room to talk, instead, she leaves after giving you a smile.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

effie and fleamont sit in front of you as you eat, staring at you and then at each other.

"we want you to stay here" fleamont is the first to talk as soon as you finish eating.

"what? no, i can't, i'll find somewhere to stay"

"no, you'll stay here, we have your room ready" effie insists.

"i can't"

"sweetie, there's no way to stop this now, the faster you accept it the better" fleamont talks as effie gets up and tells you to follow her to show you your room.

they leave you a moment to see your room before walking in.

"thank you so much" you say before they hug you, drying your tears before they fall on your face.

"it's okay honey, you'll be fine" they assure you before walking out of the room. "and, by the way, the boys are sleeping, we'll tell them to come here when they wake up, they're really worried"

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

he thinks it's unfair, remus thinks that it's unfair that you're talking to peter like nothing happened, that you're playing quidditch with james and sirius like you weren't crying in his arms just a few weeks ago. he thinks it's unfair that you haven't even glanced at him. he thinks it's unfair that you look like nothing ever happened, he hates that you're acting like everything it's okay, like you're not hurt by your family, by his words.

he also thinks he's being selfish, by slightly hoping that you're as hurt as him. that you think of him as much as he thinks of you. he hopes that you also have the urge to go to his room in the middle of the night. he hopes that you're as jealous as he is when someone starts flirting with you at the party james organised at his house.

but he also thinks that none of it it's possible, that you look way too happy to be thinking of him, that if you're planning on getting drunk, you definitely don't want his help.

he doesn't know if it was between staring at you as you flirted back with that guy, or when he was searching for you while you were nowhere to be found. but he gets drunk.

and suddenly, all the doubts he had about you disappear, because you're next to him, rubbing his back and asking him if he's drunk. and you wouldn't help him if you hated him would you?.

he just stares at you as you hold his hand and make your way through the crowd, not so kindly pushing people who didn't move. you help him through the barrier james magically applied on the stairs so no one but his friends could walk upstairs.

when you reach his room, you help him walk to his bed, which is kinda difficult seeing his stumbling tall figure. once he is in the safety of his mattress, you walk to the door, but his voice stops you.

"i can't sleep with my shirt on" when you turn around, he's smirking.

"then take it off" you turn your back to him again.

"i need help" when you turn around, not before rolling your eyes, he's giving you puppy eyes.

remus lupin. is. giving. you. puppy eyes.

"you aren't that drunk" you don't even move from the door.

"yes i am. you're really gonna leave me here, drunk and defenceless?" he lies back on his bed.

"are you trying to blackmail me?" you frown, leaning your back onto his closed door.

"is it working?" he asks, hoping it does.

"no" he sighs, before leaning on his elbows to look at you.

"c'mon love, just help me take my shirt off" you don't answer, instead, you just get closer to him, and help him sit up, once he is, he doesn't move, he just looks up at you.

"you're not gonna put your arms up?" you groan, frustrated, when he just smiles at you.

after a few minutes of work, due to his boycott, you finally take his shirt off, throwing it aside before walking away.

or that's what you try, because before you can even turn around, his arms are around you. and you don't know how he's so strong, or why you didn't try to fight back more, maybe it was the alcohol. but before you notice it. you're on the bed next to him, and he's hugging you so tight that you have no choice but to fall asleep.

when you wake up he's still hugging you, luckily not as strong as last night, so you can get up and slowly walk to the door, quietly closing it and making the way to your room.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

remus is almost convinced that it was a dream, he thinks he imagined everything when he wakes up and you're not there, he thinks it was his mind tricking him when you sit next to marlene at breakfast. even though he purposely left the sit next to him free.

he's basically drowning in his tea when marlene says something that makes him look at you.

"where were you last night? you left soon" he stares at you, noticing the way your eyes linger at him for a moment before saying that you were tired. and it would be childish for him to admit that it made him happy, that he doesn't even notice the hangover now, that he's smiling so much that even effie asked him about it.

and it would be even more childish to admit that he's been giving james the idea to throw another party just before holidays end, that he doesn't need to invite anyone, just the group of friends it's okay. and who is james to say no to a party?.

he spends more time that he wants to admit staring at you. as you talk to lily and mary, as you almost make sirius drop his drink, as you hug james. and especially, as you ignore him. so he does what he knows will make you talk to him, getting drunk.

it follows the same order as the other night. you approach him, lead him upstairs and help him get ready to bed.

"why did you leave?" he asks, holding your wrist after you tried to walk to the door. he sees how you think about the answer. and to be honest, he didn't think he was ready to hear it.

"because that's what a bitch would do" you break free from his grip and walk to the door. he just stays there as you go back downstairs.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the next morning, no one knows why remus looks so miserable, why he's being so grumpy to everyone, except you. why he's putting food on your plate, why he's making everyone put on the movie you want to see.

they also don't know why you're ignoring him, why you offered the plate to james, why you changed your mind and told marlene to decide what movie to watch.

but you knew, you knew because you've been listening to him apologise every other minute, you've been listening to him knocking on your door every night. you've been reading his apology letters.

but that wasn't enough, because just two days before classes start again, he decides that he's had enough, and that he won't leave before giving you a proper apology. so he follows you to the kitchen when everyone is focused on the movie. and he stands on your way to the door so you have no choice but to listen.

"i didn't mean it, and you know that, you know i'd never think that. and i know it's not an excuse, but it was days before a full moon, and i wanted to hate you, i wanted to hate you for making me love you and then leaving me. and i wanted you to hate me because i wouldn't be able to be around you. and i'm so sorry, i'll do anything to take it back, i need you to understand that i didn't mean it, and that i'm so sorry i ever made you feel bad. there's no day i haven't thought about you, about how much i miss you, about how i ruined everything. so please, give me a second chance, i'll apologise every minute if i have to, i'll do anything for you to forgive me. because i don't think i can stand the thought of what we could've had if i hadn't ruined everything." he takes a deep breath "i'm so so so sorry"

and you know that you shouldn’t, that he’s hurt you as much as you’ve hurt him. but you’re both teenagers, you both make mistakes, and you both miss each other. so you do what everyone would’ve done in this situation, and hug him, breathing him in.

“does that mean you forgive me?” he asks.

“yes, i’m sorry” you close your eyes, your head in his chest.

“you have nothing to apologise for, love”

“yes i do-” he cuts you off by pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“let’s just go to sleep”

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

you don’t know why james drags you from the kitchen, where you were talking with everyone, to your room, with the suitcase half done on the floor. you don’t know why he slams the door. or why he’s staring at you like you told him you forbade quidditch.

but then he talks.

“did you forgive him?”

and you remember the conversation you had with him after spending a few nights here.

“weren’t you two in love?” you’re on his bed, still not used to your new room, you’re both laying on your backs, him throwing his snitch and catching it.

“who?” you ask, staring at the ceiling.

“remus” he says it like it’s obvious, and it actually is.

“i don’t know” you shrug.

“what happened?” he asks.

“i ruined everything” you explain.

“that’s not true” he frowns.

“how do you know that?” you chuckle.

“you wouldn’t ruin anything” he says, so sincere.

“i was supposed to marry barty” the snitch falls and hits his face.

“what?!” he immediately sits up.

“so i told him i couldn’t do whatever we were doing"

"and he just accepted it?" he's frowning even more.

"he was sad at first, then mad, but he stopped talking to me, so it worked" you shrug again, and he gets closer to you.

"mad?"

"it's okay"

"i know how remus gets when he gets mad, did he say something to you?" he looks worried, already thinking about punching remus.

"nothing to bad, the normal when the person you're in love with and it's in love with you dumps you for no reason"

"what's the normal?" he questions.

"james, it's okay"

and with that beautiful flashback, you come back to an angry james in front of you.

"don't dare to move, i'll talk to you later, let me have a chat with remus first" he tries to get out of the room, but you stop him.

"james wait"

“stop trying to defend him, and don’t try to walk away, you won’t move until you tell me everything” he stands in front of you, arms crossed.

"james let me explain"

"you want to talk? talk, i'm not leaving until i know everything" he sounds determined, and you know that he won't stop until he knows everything.

"there's nothing to know, just leave it" you insist.

"what did he say to you?" he takes at step, so he's closer to you.

"james-"

"what did he say to you?"

"james, stop"

"now, i won't stop until you tell me what the fuck he told you, and why you're together with him after that"

"because it doesn't matter, it's already over"

"it doesn't matter?! you're saying it doesn't fucking matter? after weeks of seeing you miserable, and because of him?" he pinchs the bridge of his nose. "honestly, if you're not going to tell me what he told you, then don't even bother talking"

he tries to walk away, again, but you stand in front of the door.

"what's the point? i already forgave him, so, what are you going to do, make me leave him?" you question him, praying that he doesn't actually say yes.

"you don't know what i'm willing to do for you happiness" he tries to walk past you, but you don't move.

"please don't be mad at me"

"then tell me what he said to you" his eyes soften, looking at yours.

"why? what are you going to do about it?"

"it depends" he avoids your gaze.

"james."

"maybe punch him" he looks away.

"james"

"please tell me what he said" he asks, this time softer.

and you don't know why, maybe it's the look on his eyes, or the fact that you know he wouldn't let it go until you did. but you say everything to him, from how you approached him, how you were both almost crying, how he walked away.

and it takes him a moment to react, he's sitting in your bed, and you immediately get up to stand in front of him.

"james…" he gets up.

"i need to have a chat with remus" he tries to walk past you, but you don't let him.

"james."

"what?"

"please, just, stay here with me. you can help me pack" you give him your best puppy eyes until he agrees, sitting on the floor next to you, passing you clothes as you put them in your suitcase.

‧₊˚ 🌕⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

and it all looked perfect. it seemed like james had already forgotten everything by the time dinner is ready. and it seems like he's really happy when he suggests to watch a movie.

but then something changes. maybe it was remus' hand on your tight, or the fight scene on the movie. but the next thing you know, is that there's a fist right in remus' face. and that fist belongs to james.

"you said you wouldn't do anything!" you immediately get up, putting yourself in front of remus, while sirius and marlene pull james back.

"i had to!" he says.

"james!" you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"i'm sorry! but i couldn't help it! i had to do something about it!" he explains.

"about what?" lily asks, and you stiffen, looking at james with wary eyes.

"yes, about what?" james asks you, and you glare at him as mary and peter take care of remus' face.

"about nothing" you immediately say, backing up as they all stare at you.

and they're complaining about it as soon as you say it, but remus stops them.

"about me hurting her" no one knows how to react, you just stare at him as he stretches his neck.

"you fucking hurt her?" lily talks, walking towards him, and it seemed like she had the intention of repeating james' actions. so you step in front of her.

"it's all forgotten, there's no reason to punch anyone" you stare at james "especially when you promised you wouldn't"

"i'm sorry-" he tries to apologise.

"it's okay, i deserved it" remus talks.

"no you didn't?" you tell him, but he just smiles at you.

"i'm going to sleep"

you all stare at him as he walks upstairs, and when you turn around they're all staring at you.

"if i forgave him, you can do it too" you say, especially looking at james. "so, i hope you apologise to him, because he deserves it"

when you get to remus' room, he's looking at himself in the mirror.

"i'm sorry" you sneak in front of him, hugging him as you put your head in his chest.

"why" he chuckles, hugging you back.

"what do you mean why, are you stupid?" you questions him.

"love, it's not your fault" he smiles as you narrow your eyes at him. "i deserved it"

"shut up" you immediately pull away from him, storming out of the bathroom.

he grabs your wrist before you can walk out of the room, and as soon as he gets it his arms are around you.

"don't be mad at me" he pleads, and when you don't answer, his lips go to your cheek. "please"

when you don't answer he just keeps kissing you.

"please"

this time is your other cheek.

"cmon love"

your forehead.

"just talk to me"

your nose.

"please"

your lips

"love"

your neck.

and you know that he'll start going lower if you don't stop him. and you know that if he does you won't be mad anymore. so you pull away from him.

"you're stupid, remus lupin" you glare at him "if you ever say that you deserve any hurt ever again i'll be the one punching you instead of james. and i'll also cry"

"why would you cry?" he genuinely asks, putting one of his hands on your cheek.

"because you don't deserve anything bad remus. you're literally an angel"

"don't say that" you frown at him, and he looks away.

"remus, i mean it"

"i know" he puts his forehead on yours "that's why i don't want you to say it"

"why?"

"because it's gonna make me love you even more"

before you can answer, he's kissing you again, this time for real, when he pulls away, he stares at you.

"i know everyone already says that we're dating, but can we make it official?" his hands are on your cheeks, and he thinks that he's never been more nervous in his life.

"i'd love to" this time, you're the one who kisses him, and you stay like that for a while, in each other's arms. before someone knocks on the door.

when you open, you find james on the other side, with regret in his eyes.

"can i talk to remus?" you narrow your eyes at him as remus appears behind you.

"it's alright love"

you go to the living room with everyone, and before you know it, james and remus are walking in, talking and laughing.

everyone stares at them as they get closer to the couch.

"what?" they ask, staring back at you.

"everything's… fine?" lily asks, and when they both smile and nod, everyone smiles and cheers, a bit exaggerated.

remus sits next to you, putting and arm around you and kissing you.

and if before they were dramatic, now it's like their favourite team won the quidditch world cup.

"what?" this time remus and you ask, staring at them.

"you just kissed?" mary says, not believing it.

"yeah?" you answer.

"why" marlene asks, narrowing her eyes.

"we're dating" remus says, and the night ends between cheers, screams and hugs.

sirius and james even cry a bit, hugging each other while saying "finally!" "we did it!"

#young remus lupin #the marauders era #the marauders #young remus x y/n #remus lupin x reader #i love this #i hate this #i love remus lupin #remus x you #remus has a mullet #i think thats all #reader insert

548 notes · View notes

pumpkinbxtch · 30 days

Note

hey queen bean!!! 💛 i wanna start off saying i’m so glad we’re moots HEHEHE <333 i was also hoping if i could request a leo blurb or oneshot maybe like,, a quince night with him?? like maybe he got invited and the reader is like his plus one??

I WENT TO A QUINCE ONCE OF ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS AND IT WAS THE BEST PARTY IVE EVER BEEN TO i think about it to this DAYYY. LIKE THE FOOD?? delish. THE DANCING OH MY GOSH I WAS DANCING ALL NIGHT

okay i’ll stop rambling 🤲 hope we interact more!!!

sunkisses, sunni! ☼ *. mwuah!

quinceañera night ✧⁠*⁠。

— leo valdez x fem!reader

warnings: language

a/n: Hello, Sunni! I'm also happy that we are mutual, I assure you that sometimes you won't get me out of your comments, lol. Here is this little blurb (I don't know how it turned out, I always write this before, but I hope it's okay 😮‍💨) I love when these things are mixed together because I'm Mexican so, it's my things ig. I'm going to stop rambling too, I hope you like it. 😭 mwuahh.

You were pissed, like, really pissed.

But Leo had invited you to that party, and between your pride and letting him go with someone else? NEVER. So, you ended up with him at the entrance of the party hall, fixing your heels.

The way Leo acted like a total gentleman with you killed you, annoyed you, frustrated you, because he wasn't yours, and you weren't his. That annoyance squeezed your guts, and you bit your lip uncomfortably.

Pretending not to care about not labeling your relationship or that everything could stay the same for a thousand years just to avoid suffocating him with the question was so hard. But you couldn't help but live with the constant fear that someone better than you would snatch away the person you loved the most.

— Ready — he said, giving your heel buckle a final check. He was at your feet with that beaming smile, the way his curls fell from his forehead should be illegal for the way it made your stomach flutter. — Does it feel okay?

You huffed and lightly pushed him with the tip of your shoe, making him lose balance momentarily as you stood up. Leo let out a charming laugh that made warmth spread to your cheeks. You were about to turn around to slap him hard and then kiss him.

He trotted to catch up with you and offered his arm.

— Señorita? —he raised an eyebrow.

— Leo

And you hooked onto him. Even though that had already happened, right?

Oh, damn. YOU NEVER HAD MORE FUN AT A PARTY.

— Let's go, let's have some fun — he sang in your ear. You looked him directly in the eyes, and he winked at you. Leo was already lively on his own, but you had never seen him like this, jumping around and giving playful smiles. He was having a good time, and for both of your sakes, you wanted to enjoy the party too.

Indeed, Leo was actually too happy because he was showing you a side of him that wasn't easy to reveal, not because he had issues with it, but simply because you can't find easily people who enjoy pozole, celebrate quinceañeras, or any festivities the way they did.

— Here — you saw him run from a few meters away to your table and extend a fruit skewered on a stick. You raised an eyebrow for an explanation.

— Jicaleta.

"Jica- what?" but oh, Zeus, it was delicious. You never thought a Jicama on a stick with chili would be such a delicacy.

Leo sat back down next to you and nudged your shoulder to get your attention. The expression on your face wouldn't have changed for a million dollars; the sparkle in your eyes was enough to have him giving you one of those looks that you knew meant trouble, so you decided to ignore it.

—What are you looking at? — You huffed, and before you could fully look away, he cupped your cheek to stop you.

— At you — cooed. He brushed off tiny sugar remnants from the corner of your lips. Those tiny crystals stayed on his thumb, and instead of wiping them on a napkin, he brought them to his mouth, tasting a bit of that sweet flavor. In an attempt to hide your nervousness, you furrowed your brow and wrinkled your nose.

—Ew.

Leo rolled his eyes.

— Oh, come on — he scoffed and kissed you softly. With his plush lips on yours, for a moment, you needed nothing more than this moment.

"The grill is open. You can order your tacos, and there's also barbecue."

But Leo seemed to need more food. And he got up, pulling you by the hand towards the forming line.

— Okay, okay. Try them — you groaned.

— Leo, I've already tried the tacos. I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary. — He repeatedly shook his head, so abrupt that you feared for his neck.

— No, linda — he took a taco from his own plate and held it up like a religious act; you could almost see some heavenly light surrounding the food, but it was probably just the party lights. — This is a real taco, not those sold with hard tortillas!

If only you could keep track of how many times you rolled your eyes. Nevertheless, the person playing an undefined role in your life (who called himself Leo) extended the food for you to try, and you took a bite.

The exquisite flavor made you cover your mouth and raise your eyebrows in surprise.

— Fuck — you said with your mouth full. Leo smiled triumphantly and kissed your cheek.

— I told you. Now, squeeze some lemon on it, squeeze some lemon on it!

Definitely, the most peculiar part for you was when the birthday girl started dancing with her chambelanes¹.

— Why is she dancing to us if it's her birthday?

Leo chuckled, still wrapping his arm around your shoulders and his head slightly resting on yours as you admired the girl changing outfits about five times and dancing various music genres in less than 10 minutes.

“Mordida²! Mordida! Mordida!"

Once again, you looked at him for an explanation. You applauded along with the rhythm but didn't understand why the quinceañera looked so nervous and complained at times.

—She has to take a bite of the cake.

You contorted your face in confusion and looked at her closely. Once the girl leaned slightly over the cake, her brother, mother, and father smashed it onto her, regardless of whether she choked. You felt slightly sorry for her until you saw that amidst all the icing and cream, she was also smiling and laughing brightly.

— Does she know that will be recorded? — you asked, looking at the cameraman who was also smiling at the scene.

— She knows — Leo took your hand and kissed your knuckles. Once again, that knot formed in your stomach, and you discreetly pulled your hand away. Slowly but surely, you were getting tired of his deliberate touch; you liked it, but you couldn't ignore your feelings.

It seemed that the elaborate itinerary of the quinceañera had ended, and only enjoyment remained; people were already on the dance floor or chatting animatedly at the tables while some kids ran around with candies in their hands. You were truly having a good time, and you liked learning more about this side of Leo.

— And? — he leaned towards you, and you leaned back.

— I'm having fun — you admitted and grabbed one of those candies on the centerpieces; it was called "tamborcito," it was so small that it was endearing that it was just a lump of sugar and chili, delicious.

The brunette leaned closer to you, searching your eyes, but you weren't in the mood for that kind of game.

Watching couples dance, kiss, and share a moment of celebration created a bittersweet feeling in you; you longed for something you didn't have. His hand found yours, and when you finally met his eyes, there was hardness in your gaze, the same hardness that pricked Leo's chest, giving him the sensation that something was not right, but what could it be?

— I'm going to the bathroom — you said, snatching the opportunity to avoid his questions. He watched you walk away and sank into his chair, letting out a loud groan. "The way she makes me nervous should be illegal," he thought.

Same thoughts, no communication.

You fixed your makeup a bit, wiped the excess sweat from your forehead, and adjusted your dress. You were glad you didn't have to be selling a wound or planning strategies; you were just a girl with a guy. As you dried your hands, you laughed sarcastically. If only you were his girl; you barely wanted to walk back to him.

You watched Leo from the bathrooms as he seemed to nod his head to the rhythm of the music; he looked so cute that it made you throw a little tantrum, taking advantage that no one saw you.

— Hi — a guy said beside you. You jumped, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.

In the end, he asked you to dance.

Yes. Not Leo, that guy, and you thought, "screw it, why not?"

The guy smiled widely when you took his hand. If your UNDEFINED relationship with Leo would serve you anything, what better than to take advantage with a cute guy.

Meanwhile, Leo was starting to get impatient. How long could you take in the bathroom? He got up from the table with the intention of looking for you, but seeing you dance on the dance floor made his soul sink to his feet. And dances are VERY different at a quinceañera; sure, there's everything, but DANCING was a very different matter. Leo wouldn't have worried if it had been a cumbia or salsa, but bachata? the way that guy held you by the hips and led you while dancing drove him crazy.

His blood began to boil, and he tried to calm himself to avoid losing control over his powers to prevent himself from igniting. He made his way towards you, dodging people and apologizing until a click in his head made him stop in his tracks. With what right would he snatch you from the arms of that man? If he just remembered friends with benefits were famous because exactly, there was nothing to explain to the other.

Moreover, he observed your face, with a huge smile and your eyes focused on not messing up the next step. The colorful lights illuminated your face beautifully. He clenched his fist and returned to his place.

You hadn't stopped dancing with the guy; he was kind and taught you patiently.

You pouted as you walked through the garden of the hall and saw Leo kicking a rock with the tip of his shoe. There was the problem; no matter how attentive he had been or how good a match he seemed, he wasn't him.

Your friend's shoulders brushed against the branches of a bush, and he abruptly stopped.

— Did you have fun?— he asked with a certain acidity in his voice; you knew what he was getting at, but you didn't want to give it importance.

— Tons — you balanced on one foot as you unfastened your shoe. Leo just nodded with his gaze fixed on the bush as he caressed the foliage with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes and dropped the heel to the ground to unfasten the other one.

— Why that face, Leo? — It wasn't your intention to sound so mocking, but you couldn't help but feel a certain pleasure in his jealousy. He gave you a scowling look and huffed.

— I'm not making any face — he tore off the leaf and burned it in his hands. Jealousy was eating him alive.

— If you say so — you pulled a piece of paper from the bag hidden in your dress and smiled.

The guy tore another branch forcefully when he saw you smile and extended his hand, taking the piece of paper from you.

— Hey!

— Did he give you his number?

— And what if he did?

He inhaled loudly and felt pathetic. It was true. He returned it to you, still annoyed, and sat on the edge of the planter as you finished taking off your shoe. Both palms resting on his cheeks with that grumpy expression.

— I have something to say — he said once three seconds had passed, which for him felt like an eternity. You rolled your eyes again and put your hand on your hip, dropping the other heel. You were already barefoot on the pavement.

— What?

— I like you.

You softened your expression, replacing it with one of confusion.

— What?

— I like you, I love you — Leo looked up and gave you a flat, resigned smile.

— Like... what?

Leo scratched the back of his neck and straightened up.

— I like you, I love you, let's be boyfriend and girlfriend.

He thought it had been a great way to declare his feelings, but instead, you crumpled the piece of paper with the guy's number and threw it at his face, poking his left eye.

— Auch!

— Dumbass

And you held back a sob. It was so unfair. He seemed to read your thoughts and stood up.

— Okay, okay, okay. Wait, don't look — he took you by the shoulders and turned you around so you faced away. You heard the leaves rustle and some twigs snap; when he reappeared in your sight, he had his hair tousled and some bougainvillea branches in his hand. His eyes pleading and nibbling lightly on his lips. — Can we finally be together and stop with the nonsense once and for all because I can't stand seeing you with someone else, and besides, you're my best friend? Come on, say yesss

You couldn't hold that serious image for long. You threw yourself into his arms and kissed him on the cheek, for the first time confident.

— You're an idiot.

— I'll take that as a yes.

You nodded frantically and kissed him, this time on the lips, with such force that your red lipstick left a mark on him.

— Damn, finally — Leo celebrated and lifted you in a bridal style, making you scream with happiness. He leaned down with you to tangle the straps of your heels on his fingers and set off towards the car. — I'll take you home.

You raised both arms as if you were on a roller coaster. smiled ecstatically, with flushed cheeks. — Take me home!

¹ chambelanes: are the dancers who the quinceañera, usually they're a mix of family, professionals and the boyfriend.

² mordida: bite

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

107 notes · View notes

leclercsfilm · 10 months

Text

but i'll know, i'll know

this is all fanfiction, all fake!!! no hate towards charlotte or alexandra (if that's her name idk). this is purely for fun and please don't be rude to me or insult me. thank you. <333 also, i checked grammar so i think it's fine? word count: 873 (i can't write more ig)

summary: because of your friendship with charles, his significant other wants you out of his life. (angst)

charles leclerc x female!reader

another bad race for ferrari. charles crushed into a wall and carlos got a penalty. you watch the race on your phone, hopping to see charles while he is exiting the car. it hurts not being there for him in times like this but you know he is in a good hands.

maybe you are blaming on your little 'something different' that you feel towards him, but you feel your eyes filling with tears. ever since his new relationship, you had mixed feelings on both of them. he started calling less, and every time you see each other, his girlfriend made sure that the meeting lasts only couple of minutes.

you are still in touch with arthur, your other friend you made while watching your brother go karting with charles. you were all pretty close until you weren't. that's how it is supposed to be.

charles new girlfriend saw you as a threat, and you understand her. insecure with you along side him (even if you only see each other on races or on a reunions), or media attention and their stupid tabloids.

since age 10, this is all you knew. it hurts you that you can't be part of this.

you had a slight crush on charles when you first met, but that feeling got lost somewhere until he broke up with the previous girlfriend.

he was a mess, and you were his comfort. not only you, but there was pierre, lando, arthur, carlos, isa, kika.... everybody was there for him.

he accidentally kissed you, and he apologized 330430 times for that. but that woke up something in you. since then you were always confused around him, trying not to blush or to be awkward enough for him to notice.

he did. he did notice. and when his girl said that he should stay away from you, he realized that it was probably for the best. he was also confused, but he had her by his side. he needs to be with her and devote his mind and soul to his girlfriend, not to wonder and question the situation with you. this was an easy way out.

you got up and started to look for something to eat. it was a mess of a day and you need to refresh yourself with something. distracting yourself.

while making food, you realize that the sun is not out anymore and that it is 8 p.m. you got your laptop and started to look up for netflix. just when you were trying to find where you left on 'friends' your phone started ringing.

without looking at it, you just picked it up.

'hallo?'

'y/n?'- a famous voice just started breathing into the phone

'charles? is everything alright?' - mutter while praying to God above that everything is fine

'yeah.... i just wanted to hear you for a bit...' - he sounded tired

'sure.. um, what now?' - confused as always, you said the first thing that came to your mind

'did you watched the race? it was pretty shit to be honest. im still shaking a little bit.'

'yes i watched it. sure it was a rough day for you'- you said while looking at the netflix which is infornt of you. you can't even calm yourself down.

'where is....she? is she with you? is there arthur or someone who can be with you?'

'no.... no really. im in bathroom. i had to escape somehow. arthur is waiting for me to get out. she was not even here. we had a fight last week.' - he sounded defeated. with his sigh, the silence got her way.

'im sorry to hear it charles. have you been drinking?' - you were worried about him, you think it never stopped.

'a little bit, yes. but im fine.'

'why are you calling me charles?' - you added

'i don't know why everytime im tipsy or drunk, i think of you. im sorry i couldn't defend you. i still think of our childhood, im sorry for throwing it away... i got scared, i got confused.. it was easier to run....'

charles cried, choking on his tears. your eyes watered as well, and you had to take a deep breath to hold back from crying out loud.

'you know... sometimes...no,no... almost always i have memories overwhelming me. it hurts so bad because you where always in every segment of my childhood, part of it. you were asking too much of me. i can't forget you...' - you cried out, while you wipe your tears.

'im sorry y/n. im so sorry. i don't know what i feel towards you. it not just friendship. i think we could be more. but we can't... and you know it. maybe this is just a process of healing... of forgetting.' - he tired to be collected. he really did. he needed to find a reason.

'well... it was nice to hear you charles. take care of yourself. don't be harsh to yourself..' - with that, you ended the call.

closing your laptop, you finally let emotions to control you. you finally let out frustrations and your tears. your memories with him no one can change or make disappear. you'll always know and remember him, but you'll never know what you two could be.

well, this was painful for me to read, im so sorry. i wish i was better. :( please, remember that english is not my first language and that i've created this account to fix my mistakes and my grammar. please do not insult me and make fun of me. love you <3

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #c16 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine

311 notes · View notes

lowkeychenle · 6 months

Text

this is me trying [ZCL] (M)

Description: Meeting Chenle was a fluke--a good one, at that, but you never expected things to escalate the way they did. But despite the whirlwind romance, you'd go back to December if you had the chance...

A/N: this is inspired by both 'this is me trying' and 'Back to December' by Taylor Swift. This is a dual timeline-esque story so please make sure to pay attention to the dates and places named...

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut triple threat (more fluff and smut than angst I'd say)

Content Warnings: some sadness in regards to being emotionally unavailable, but nothing like....really bad. I don't think. Smut warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk, some nipple play ig (if u squint), Chenle being down bad, some pet names like baby and pretty girl (or maybe it's just pretty i can't quite remember), and I think that's it! Lmk if I missed any :) oh and oral (m receiving i don't think f receiving is explicitly written m ybad)

Word Count: 10,179

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat. all dreamies)

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

10:56pm, December 1st, 2022 | Your bedroom

You were scared at first—of the prospect of having a man in your bed for the first time in months. Maybe even an entire year at this point. You never thought going to a bar with a group of your friends would end up with you taking someone home, yet here you are, your body wedged between your mattress and a man.

He’s beautiful, with dark eyes, full lips, and midnight hair parted down the middle. Even as he looks down at you, his gaze is soft, like he knows this is a big deal for you despite only knowing you for an hour or two.

His mouth finds yours, a delicate melody spelled out with each second that passes. Oddly enough, you feel safe with him, a complete stranger. All you know is his name is Chenle, and that he’s got the gentlest hands you’ve ever felt on you.

He’s even more beautiful once your bodies are entangled. His face blissed out, fists clenching the sheets next to your head, length stretching you almost more than you can take. You spread your legs further, wanting him as deep as possible.

The moment is strangely intimate for two people who didn’t know of each other’s existence before this but, to you, it’s not weird. You’re enjoying it more than you should. You weave your fingers into his hair, rocking up to meet his hips with every thrust. Quiet, broken moans slip from both of you.

Three hours ago, he didn’t exist to you.

Now, you’re starting to think he’s the beginning. He’s the door opening to the next stage of your life, and you desperately want to grab hold and never let go.

That first night had your toes curling. He shifted, pulling your legs over his shoulders to bottom out deep inside you. Never before had you called out a man’s name you weren’t familiar with, but there’s a first for everything.

With his tip kissing your cervix over and over again, you start to shake. He leans forward until his chest brushes yours, the stretch in your legs uncomfortable but aiding in your pleasure, and he kisses you. You expect desperation, but instead you’re met with passion. Determination to make you feel good before him.

You call out his name against his lips, a short whine accompanying it. His hair clings to his forehead from sweat, his eyes glazed as he nods.

“Let go, (Y/N),” he whispers, grinding to put pressure on your clit.

You’ve had plenty of loud orgasms in your life—unable to hold back your moans as the other person roughly chases their own end. Even this is different with him. The pleasure is so intense, you’re incapable of those noises. Instead, you're gasping for air, holding onto him for dear life, and shuddering over and over as you clench and unclench around him. Your back arches, and he swallows all of your desperate, quiet sounds with another kiss. He thrusts two more times before his euphoria takes him.

The room around you is silent, but the two of you are panting, still holding onto each other like your life depends on it. He presses a kiss to your lips, on your jawline, down your neck until he places one last one in the center of your throat.

You don’t know him. Not really, but you want to.

God, you want to.

5:43pm, December 1st, 2023 | Something Brew Coffee Shop

“(Y/N), are you listening to me?” Chenle frowns at you from across the table. “Jaemin’s gonna kill everyone if we don’t have this planned by tomorrow.

“Yeah, I hear you.” You sigh and run your hands down your face before picking up your coffee. “Isn’t there someone else who could’ve done this? I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy,” he muses, arms folded on the wooden top as he leans forward slightly.

Busy. Yeah, you are. You work way too many days a week, sleep not enough hours a night, and still somehow have managed to keep your group of friends despite barely ever being able to see them.

“Sorry.” You run your fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry, Le.”

His eyebrows furrow, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s remembering how you were at this point last year. You’d never tell him that you remembered the time he approached you in the bar, but you knew.

You think about it, too. You think about it more than you should, but there’s no harm in doing something no one else knows about.

The memories of that night are practically engraved into your brain. In your entire life, no one had ever treated you so delicately. It made you want more, but ultimately, that was something you couldn’t have.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He shrugs. “Maybe it wasn’t fair of Jaemin to ask this of you.”

“All Jaemin wants from me is the bare minimum,” you chime in.

“Sometimes it’s impossible to give even that.”

Your heart sinks in your chest, and you chuckle softly. “Yeah, tell him that when I get the wrong color tinsel.”

8:21am, December 2nd, 2022 | Your bedroom

Honestly, you weren’t sure what to expect when you woke up. The first half of you wanted him to be there so you could see if the connection was more than just a night, but the second half wanted him gone. You didn’t have the capacity for something real, not yet and not for a long time.

But you felt it with him. The realness and the lines of fate that bent to push you two together.

Yet, even then, you wake up alone.

The other side of the bed is mussed, and you sigh toward your ceiling at the recognition of it. You clutch the blanket to your chest, sitting up in an attempt to see if you could grab something to wear without standing up.

You frown at the sight of his T-shirt on the floor still. Everything else is gone except for that—he probably forgot it in his haste since he had a sweatshirt on last night as well. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you reach down and grab it, only briefly hesitating before pulling it over your head.

Disappointment weighs heavily on your chest, but as the hem of the fabric comes to a stop right below your butt, you forget about it. At least, with this thing, you have proof he’s real. An angel was in your bed last night, and even though you shouldn’t, infatuation tugs at your heartstrings.

With a short groan, you get out of bed and head into your kitchen to get some water. Your legs ache from the night before, but the feeling is so sweet, you enjoy the odd cadence to your walk because of it.

You grab a glass from the cabinet, fill it with water, and tilt it to your lips as you lean your back on the counter. A slip of paper on the island catches your eye, and with a subtle frown, you approach it.

Messy handwriting is scrawled on it, but you can read it all the same.

Sorry I left so quickly, I had to get to work

I really enjoyed last night. Call me when you get the chance?

-Chenle

His phone number is written below that, and despite the disappointment you’d felt about his disappearance, a warmth spreads through your body.

2:09pm, December 2nd, 2023 | Jaemin’s House

You always arrive at Jaemin’s early. He greets you with his usual hug, and the two of you sit on his couch while still attempting to devise a plan for how you’re organizing your friend group’s Christmas party. For years, there’s been games, Secret Santa, and just about every Christmas-themed movie ever created. You love it and your friends, and it’s the one time of year you’re actually able to enjoy time off.

“Well, Chenle made the number odd last year,” Jaemin mentions, pursing his lips at the thought. “But I think Mark wants to bring his girlfriend, so we should be back at an even number.”

“Oh, I’m glad they’re doing well.” You grin. “Mark deserves to have a good person in his life.”

“Yeah, he won’t shut up about her.” Jaemin snorts.

“Love is good,” you interject. “Be nice to him.”

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised.” He pauses, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“About what?”

“That nothing ever happened with you and Chenle.” He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. “You guys had like…one month last year and then things were just…normal. Like he’d always been a part of our group and like neither of you had ever…you know.”

“He’s a good guy, Jaem.”

“I never said he wasn’t.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I just wish you’d tell me what happened. We’re supposed to be friends.”

“I would tell you what happened if anything did happen.” You ignore the tugs you feel at your heart. Usually, you don’t lie to Jaemin. You wouldn’t tell him this side of the story if it wasn’t what you and Chenle had agreed to.

But, holy hell, do you remember all of it like it was yesterday. You thought you’d gotten over it, honestly, but ‘tis the damn season.

“Well, if anything, I’m glad you guys are friends. He’s cool. Nice addition to the group.” Jaemin nods approvingly, like it hasn’t been over a year since Chenle began participating in all your activities.

When you open your mouth to speak, you’re interrupted by the shrill tone of your phone. You and Jaemin look at the same time, and your face heats up as Chenle’s name flashes across the screen. Speak of the devil.

“I’m…gonna take that.” You launch up from your seat, grab your phone, and head into the kitchen to answer. Putting the device up to your ear, you say, “Hello?”

“Hey, are you home right now?” he asks.

“No, I’m actually at Jaemin’s.” You lean on the counter. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I just…Honestly, I drove by your place on my way home from work and…” he trails off, a short laugh escaping his lips. “I got a little nostalgic, I guess. Sorry, (Y/N), forget I called, okay?”

“Wait, Le.” You put your hand on your forehead. “It’s okay to feel that way. I…I have been, too. A little bit. I’m here to talk about it, if you want to.”

“I…”

“It’s okay. I’m the last person who can judge you.” You try to keep your voice down to avoid Jaemin listening in, if he’s not pressed up to the wall already.

“I’m glad you’re in my life in any capacity, you know? But it feels a little ridiculous to be nostalgic over one month of my life a year later.” He sighs. “And now that I’ve known you for that entire year, it makes me wonder what my life would be like without you and everyone you’ve brought into it. So…thank you.”

Tears prick your eyes, and you wish he’d say more. You wish he’d tell you all the things you know are true, but have never been verbalized. How your mind, heart, and body crave to be with him like you were last year, and how you know he feels the same way.

But you don’t blame him. How can you?

3:34pm, December 3rd, 2022 | Yeouido Park, Yeongdeungpo-gu, Seoul, South Korea

Chenle’s fingers intertwine with yours. Thankfully, the gloves you’re wearing hide the fact your palms are sweaty. You called him yesterday, and let him know he left his T-shirt. He laughed it off and let you know it’s okay because he planned on seeing you again—as long as that’s what you wanted.

You weren’t in the right mindset to entertain a relationship. Not in the slightest. But bundled up in winter gear with him and walking around a park has you more at ease than you ever thought it could.

Truth be told, he came back to get his shirt last night. That ended with him back in your bed, proving to you that your first night was, indeed, not a fluke.

“Do you want hot chocolate?” he asks.

Your face lights up as you nod. “Yes, please.”

You wait off to the side while he approaches the vendor, and soon enough, he returns with two steam hot cups. Grasping yours desperately, you smile as the two of you keep walking. In the spring, this park is beautiful. The trees blossom and the water glistens, but now everything is covered in snow and ice.

When he looks at you, fondness takes over every inch of his features. You loop your arm through his, stealing glances every now and then. The tip of his nose and his cheeks turn red in the frigid temperature, and you admire everything about him. The definition of his jaw, his strong cheekbones, and the sharpness to the brown in his eyes that shows off his wit before his mouth can.

“I gotta be honest,” you say, tapping the top of your cup. “I’ve never been here before.”

“What?” He stops completely, jaw dropping. “You’re joking.”

“‘Fraid not.” You scrunch your face up.

“I’ll have to bring you back here in the springtime. It’s absolutely beautiful.” He doesn’t realize what his words imply, but you do.

You clear your throat, hoping the cold hides the heat rising to your cheeks. “Chenle.”

He wets his lips, distracting himself by sipping his hot chocolate. “Fuck, that’s hot.” He grimaces and recoils.

“Chenle,” you say to him again, softer this time.

He gulps before he looks at you. “Yeah.”

“I…I’m getting cold. Should we head back?” You don’t want to bring down the mood you’re in, especially since you saw the shift in him when his name fell from your lips.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

By the time he parks outside of your house, his car is warm enough that you’re starting to sweat beneath all your winter gear. He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you. He blinks once, twice, three times.

“I need to be honest with you,” you tell him, blowing out a breath. “I’m…a mess, okay? I don’t want to hurt you or lead you on or anything because you are just…genuinely so amazing. But December is the only time of year that I have the time to think of myself, let alone everyone else, and I can’t…promise you anything when I know I can’t be good for you after this month.”

He stares forward at your building, pursing his lips. “(Y/N), I’ve only known you for three days.”

“I know. But I’m not an idiot, and I know where sex and walks in the park lead.” You fidget with your hands in your lap. “I want to continue, to keep doing whatever it is we’re doing, but I can’t do that if you’re not okay with us…leaving it in December.”

His gaze sweeps over you, slightly narrowing as he comprehends your words. “So, what you’re asking me is if I’ll develop enough feelings in a month for you to hurt me?”

“Under normal circumstances, I know I would. That’s the only reason I’m even saying this. I already know you’re a good guy, Chenle, and I don’t want to make you hate me because I can’t give you something.”

These aren’t normal circumstances, but you already have that feeling deep down in your chest, the one that swirls and lights up your world when you think of him—hope.

“How about this,” he says, reaching over to stop you from picking at your nails. “We have this month, in any way you want, and then after, we’ll just be…normal. Friends. I think we get along really well, so it’d be a waste to not at least try to be friends after this, right?”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“I’d probably end up getting hurt if we didn’t have this conversation, but I do like you. I hope that’s not weird to say, but we have slept together twice, so…”

“It’s not weird. I like you, too. That’s why I wanted to be completely honest with you.”

“But just to be clear, we don’t have to just be friends this month?” Chenle’s thumb traces shapes onto the back of your hand.

Timidly, you shake your head. “I’m all yours for December.”

8:43pm, March 10th, 2023 | Yeouido Park, Yeongdeungpo-gu, Seoul, South Korea

He was right. The tree blossoms are beautiful, and you’re in awe.

But it’s not the same without him.

4:32pm, December 5th, 2023 | Outside of Seoul Tower, Yongsan-gu, Seoul, South Korea

“Jaemin, put him down!” you shout, forcing yourself not to laugh as you smack Jaemin’s arm.

Jaemin shakes his head, shifting to make sure Jeno is comfortable on his back. The latter looks slightly terrified, but as Jaemin charges forward, he laughs with glee. You chuckle, scratching your forehead as you stay back with Mark, Jisung, and Chenle. Renjun and Donghyuck are off looking for some sort of hot drink, and you’re stuck here trying to stop Jaemin before he slips and hurts both himself and Jeno.

“They’re like toddlers,” Mark points out, sighing.

“Pretty muscular for toddlers, don’t you think?” Chenle pipes in, leaning back on the railing.

You stand next to him with Jisung on the other side, and you take in the view around you. Seoul Tower is in the distance, where the sun has already begun its descent below the horizon. It’ll be dark soon, and that means another day has gone by where you’re still unsure of what this hollow feeling in your chest is.

Maybe you’ll never find out, but that’s okay. You’re happy with your band of friends, and you’d never want anything else.

You think that until you glance at Chenle when he’s not paying any attention to you. He watches Jaemin and Jeno in the distance, and as soon as you hear a shout of alarm from Jaemin, Chenle’s eyebrows jump up before his lips part into a smile, and then eventually a loud laugh bursts past. He doubles over, Jisung and Mark following his lead as they watch your friends tumble over each other down the sidewalk.

Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart pounds.

The genuine expression of joy and happiness on his face, while somewhat concerning considering what brought it up, makes your brain malfunction.

“Are you okay?” Mark cups his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice, but the tears in his eyes give away his actual lack of concern.

“Fuck you!” Jeno yells back, making Chenle and Jisung giggle more.

“You losers need girlfriends,” you say. “I’m tired of being the only girl here.”

“For the record, I have a girlfriend.” Mark glares at you.

“Right, sorry. We’ve just never met her so she may as well be invisible,” you deadpan.

Renjun and Donghyuck approach, and the former hands you a warm cup of coffee. You thank him, and then Mark opens his mouth.

“Yeah, well, what about you? Why don’t you get a boyfriend?”

You flounder for a moment. Honestly, you’ve no idea what to say, and the only man you’ve ever considered dating in the last couple years is standing right next to you, stiff as a board at the idea of you having a boyfriend that’s not him.

“Wait.” Donghyuck holds up a hand to stop everyone. “Dude, are you dumb? She’s dating Chenle.”

Both you and Chenle recoil, and at the same time, you say, “What are you talking about?”

“Are…are you not? I mean, you’ve been hanging out for a year and you brought him into our group, so I just figured…wow. Maybe I’m the dumb one.” Donghyuck blinks vacantly past the group before shrugging and sipping his drink.

You look at Chenle and immediately recognize the frustration on his face. Touching his arm, you wait until you have his attention. “I’m sorry.”

The words are so quiet, nobody hears them but Chenle, especially when Jaemin screeches in the distance. In response, Chenle presses his lips into a thin line, nods, and walks off with the rest of the group toward the two hooligans.

7:31am, December 10th, 2022 | Your kitchen

“Fuck,” Chenle groans as he bottoms out inside you, his fingernails digging into your thighs as yours claw at his shoulders. He spent the night last night, and apparently seeing you in his shirt in the morning made him want more of what he got last night.

The counter is cold against your bare ass, but you’re barely on it once he tugs you to the edge. Originally, your plan was to make breakfast, but he clearly had other ideas. He fits so snugly within your walls, you’re almost certain he’s made for you.

You squirm in his grasp, crying out with every miniscule movement he makes with his hips.

“Hear that, baby?” he whispers as he slowly pulls out of you, sounds of your arousal following. “You get so fucking wet for me.”

“Chenle, I—”

He slams his hips against yours before your sentence is complete, making you cut yourself off with a loud moan.

“Lay back.” He tells you. “Let me see all of you.”

You waste no time doing as he asks, lying down flat on the island as his hands explore your body. The granite sends chills up your spine and hardens your nipples even further. Your sweat makes your back stick to the countertop, but neither of you care.

The lights are on, illuminating all of you for Chenle to observe. His hands drag up your body before he reaches your breasts, groaning as he squeezes them. He rubs his thumbs over your nipples, and you cry out and your walls clench down on his cock.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, as if you’re not meant to hear those words. “So perfect.”

“Please,” you whine, lifting your hips the best you can. “Need you.”

“Aw, baby. All you gotta do is ask.” He tsks, and before you know it, he’s pulling back to slam himself forward.

Ten days. You’ve known him for ten days, but you’re comfortable enough to be sprawled out in your most vulnerable state, begging him to complete you in the ways only he can.

And you’re metaphorically and physically fucked.

10:51pm, April 12th, 2023 | Yeouido Park, Yeongdeungpo-gu, Seoul, South Korea

All you can think about is him. Chenle should be walking by your side right now.

You reach up, gently caressing the petals the same way he’d touch your face.

You miss him.

You miss him and he’s been so close to you this whole time.

9:21pm, December 14th, 2022 | Chenle’s bedroom

Tonight is one of those slow nights. Considering your timeline, you and Chenle haven’t really wasted any time, either spending the night at his house or yours. More often than not, the two of you would end the night sweaty and naked.

But not this time, apparently. His lips work lazily against yours, but there’s no hint of it heating up. The two of you are simply enjoying each other. His left hand rests casually on your ass, while the right cups your cheek. You love the way this feels. Like there’s no rush.

“I could kiss you for hours,” Chenle murmurs against your lips, inhaling shakily. “Just wanna sit here and kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Wanna look at you, too.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “Want something to remember that’s not just sex, you know?”

Despite the pang in your heart, you nod. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Whatever happens,” he says, a small smile gracing his swollen lips. “This has been the best time of my life.”

“Bar’s really low, huh?” You giggle, and he rolls his eyes.

“Not at all. You exceed expectations, as per usual.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

You gently push his chest before sliding your touch over his shoulder and onto the nape of his neck. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” he replies.

“You are…the prettiest man I’ve ever met. Not pretty in a bad way. Like…beautiful. You’re beautiful, Chenle.” You trace a finger along his cheekbones, down to his jawline, until you make it to his lips, running your thumb across the bottom one.

“You know, I…I like this a lot. You.” He pauses. “But no matter what I tell you, or how I feel, I hope you know I’d never disrespect the boundaries you’ve set. So if this hurts me, it’s my own fault. Not yours.”

“I—”

“I’m serious. I don’t want to be dishonest with you. We both know I like you a lot. And it’s okay to be scared of that, or to wish things could be simple and meaningless, but…” he trails off, playing with the hem of your shirt. “That’s not reality. I’m falling for you, and I’m okay with it. Even knowing we only have a couple weeks left.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “I’m falling for you, too.”

7:56pm, December 15th, 2023 | Chenle’s house

“Happy one year of your inauguration into the group, Chenle.” Mark claps his shoulder with a bittersweet smile on his face. “I feel like it’s so crazy that you kinda popped out of nowhere, but we like you. We’ll keep you.”

Chenle quirks an eyebrow. “That’s…an oddly endearing speech.”

Exactly a year ago, you introduced Chenle to your group of friends. None of them knew the extended truth of what was going on between you and him, but apparently, people had always assumed from day one. It didn’t help that neither of you had dated anyone since your month together.

Jaemin gathered everyone on the couch and insisted everyone goes through their favorite Chenle memory. One instantly pops in your head, but you’re not sure if you should mention it. Although, you doubt anyone would actually catch on to the meaning behind it.

“Oh, I’ll go first.” Jisung sits forward a bit. “Over the summer, when he helped me burn all of my ex’s old stuff. Was like therapy for us both.”

“Classy,” you cut in.

“Well, my favorite Chenle memory is when we all went to dinner after (Y/N)’s promotion and he got drunk as hell. (Y/N) had to basically wheel him out of there, and the whole time he was mumbling about how happy he was. Comedy gold.” Jeno gives Chenle a thumbs up, who snorts in response.

“Yes, let’s bring up all the times I got drunk.” Chenle leans back, but a grin spreads across his face anyway. His arm brushes against yours, and soon enough, everyone looks at you expectantly. It must be your turn.

You purse your lips to hide your amusement, tapping your nails against your wine glass. “My favorite Chenle moment.”

“Can’t believe it’s this hard for you,” Chenle teases you, nudging your arm. “You have plenty of choices.”

“That’s why it’s hard.” You run your fingers through your hair and sip your wine. “Okay, okay. My favorite Chenle moment is from exactly a year ago tomorrow.”

You don’t elaborate further, but Chenle hides his smile with his drink. Everyone around you waits for you to elaborate, but you and Chenle are caught up in the memory now that you’ve mentioned it.

“Wait, what?” Jaemin frowns. “That’s not fair! We have no idea what happened.”

“It shall forever be a mystery.” You hold up your glass in a fake toast.

“We’re going to assume the worst if you don’t tell us,” Jisung mentions.

“Assume whatever you want.” Chenle shrugs. “Some things are meant to stay private.”

A chorus of oooh’s flood from the boys, and all you can do is roll your eyes. Had it been any other day, they’d probably be right, but December 16th, 2022 was far from a sexual encounter.

5:00pm, December 16th, 2022 | Han River, Seoul, South Korea

Chenle stands against the railing, overlooking the river as he waits for you. You approach him as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb him while he looks so ethereal. Despite your efforts, it’s almost like he senses your presence.

A wide smile overtakes his features when he sees you. He straightens up, and from this angle, you see the bouquet of flowers in his hand. You make it to him, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the rail and his lips are on yours. And you don’t mean to giggle, but you can’t help it when you’re in his embrace. Everything about him makes you feel complete.

“You look beautiful,” he mutters against you before nuzzling his head into your neck. “And you smell so good.”

“Are you only saying that because you’re hungry?” You laugh and gently push at him. “You need real food or you might eat me alive.”

“Trust me, I’ll do that anyway.” That comment earns him another push, but his laugh echoes in the air in the most pleasant of ways.

The two of you start walking, your arm looped in his as he hands you the flowers. You accept them gratefully, sniffing them and sighing at the scent. Resting your head on his shoulder, you allow him to lead the way—something you’d struggle with if you were with anyone else.

“I’m glad we’re able to do this stuff,” Chenle says, smiling at you. “That you’re okay with me taking you out places and all that.”

“We’re not hiding what we’re doing,” you say, stopping and waiting until he turns to you. “No part of this is wrong. Maybe it’ll be a little hard, but we’ll still be friends.”

His chest deflates. “Yeah, we will.”

“Chenle…”

“I know.” He holds his hand up. “I know, (Y/N), I promise. It’ll suck for a while, after having you like this to get demoted to friend, but if it keeps you in my life, I’ll do it. I want you to be happy.”

“You’re supposed to be trying not to fall for me.”

“This is me trying.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’m trying, but nothing’s working. And I don’t really want to talk about it. I want to take you on this date and pretend like…like you’re really mine. If I’m going to get hurt, I may as well make it worth it.”

You’re not sure how it happens, but you must step on some ice. Your feet slip, and you let out a squeal. Chenle darts forward, wrapping his arms around you to steady you on your feet, but he also hits the ice patch. Without another thought, he cradles your head to his chest while both of you fall, taking the brunt of it as his back hits the snow. Luckily, it’s soft enough to give way for him, but it still knocks the air out of him.

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip still tight on you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” You gasp and roll off him, sitting up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am.” He pulls you back down to the snow, turning so he’s looking at you.

As the cold seeps in, you both start laughing. The gleam of the stars catches in his eyes, and you know that either of you fighting your feelings will be futile. You’re not just falling for him, you’re diving headfirst, and when he lays in the snow with you, tugging you closer to kiss you instead of hurrying you to stand, you know you’ll never reach the bottom.

11:08pm, December 19th, 2023 | Your bedroom

How do you still miss him a year later? How does he occupy every single one of your thoughts?

You curl your comforter to your chest and turn to your side, almost certain you can imagine what it felt like to have his sleeping form next to you. Tears prick at your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

This is all your fault. He’d be yours if only you had the nerve to ask for his forgiveness.

11:08pm, December 19th, 2022 | Your bedroom

Chenle’s always a peaceful sleeper when he’s with you. He’s lying on his chest, arms under the pillow and the blanket hanging off his bare lower back. You want to trace shapes into his back, any sort of physical touch, but you fear waking him when you’re in a state like the one you’re in right now.

You want him. All of him. Every day.

You’ve only known him for a short amount of time, but you fell hard and fast. The only explanation for the tears in your eyes and the pang in your heart is love.

You’ve fallen in love with Chenle, with his laugh and his smile.

And you’re not sure what you can do to fix it.

6:23pm, December 20th, 2023 | Your house

“It’s almost Christmas,” Mark notifies you through the phone. It’s on speaker, sitting on your counter while you do your dishes.

“There’s five days left, trust me, I know.” You snort. “Jaemin’s present is still in the mail, let’s hope it’s not late. He’ll cry.”

“I think the last one I have to pick up is Chenle’s,” Mark says absentmindedly.

“He’s the first person I bought for,” you admit, shrugging despite Mark not being able to see you. “He’s easy for me.”

“Please, give me some of those vibes.” Mark chuckles. “But actually, is it okay if I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

“Well, another one, you dick.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Mark clears his throat and shuffles around. “So…anything happen this year? With Chenle?”

“What?” You frown. “No. Why would it?”

“(Y/N).”

“I’m serious,” you defend yourself. “Things are still the same as they were.”

“Except that’s not true, because you were in love with him last December, dude. Love doesn’t fade if you’re still around the guy every day.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You turn off the water and rinse your hands. “Whatever happened between me and Chenle is in the past. It’s gotta stay there.”

“But what if it doesn’t? He clearly wants you.”

“How could you possibly know that?” You grab your phone and head into your living room.

“You may have introduced him to the group, but he is our friend now, too, you know. And since I’m, unfortunately, the only one who knows the shit that went down between you two, I know very well how both of you are feeling.” Mark opens some sort of bag, and when you hear the crunch, you surmise he must be snacking.

“I’m busy.”

“Yeah, so are the rest of us,” he deadpans.

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is you telling Chenle you’re too busy to love him and then loving him anyway. We still go out throughout the year, we all hang out. He’s seen you just as much over the last eleven months as he does now.”

“Then why hasn’t he said anything?”

“Are you serious? Maybe because you came up with your dumb rules and he’s too good of a guy to break them.” Mark snorts, and you imagine it’s accompanied by an eye roll.

You open your mouth to say something, but a knock sounding interrupts you.

“Oh, let me call you back.” You hang up on Mark before he responds, quickly bounding over to your door to see who it is.

The smile drops from your face when you see Chenle.

“Hey,” you say, quickly moving aside to let him in.

He hasn’t been alone in your house with you in months, and you begin feeling the tingle of awkwardness and anxiety at the base of your spine.

“What…what’s up?” you ask, clasping your hands together behind your back.

“What are we doing?” he shoots back.

You recoil.

“Nevermind.” His eyes close and he shakes his head, running his hands down his face. “I’m…tired.”

“What can I do to help you?” You step toward him, and he watches you closely, almost as if he’s scared of you.

“I thought I could do this.” He scoffs. “I thought I’d be okay with having you in my life even if I couldn’t—”

Tears already brim your eyes, as if you know what’s about to happen.

He’s leaving you. For real this time.

“Chenle, I…”

“Don’t,” he says. “I was doing good, you know? And then December came and I kept thinking about you and everything we had last year. It won’t leave me alone. And I’m sitting here waiting for you, when I don’t even know if you’ll ever want me in the same way.”

You stay silent, acknowledging that this is something that’s built up inside of him over the course of a year. He said he wouldn’t get mad at you, but you can’t help but understand why he is either way. You’re mad at you, too.

“Hanging around you and our friends and not being able to touch you or kiss you or just tell everyone that I love you fucking sucks. Hearing Mark tell you that you should get a boyfriend sucks. Donghyuck assuming we’re together sucks. I’m tired of this.”

“Chenle…”

“At least I’m trying!” He lets out a bitter laugh and tugs his hands through his hair. “We could make this work if you were willing to put in the effort, but somehow I’m not enough for you.”

“No,” you cut in quickly. “That’s not true at all. Chenle, you deserve so much more than me. That’s why I can’t let you love me, because I’m not worthy of your love. You need someone who can let go around you, who can have fun and love freely, and that’s not me.”

“That is you.” He wets his lips. “That’s always been you.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t!” Your body shakes as you raise your voice, daggers in your tone as they sink into his skin and cut him down. Tears pour down your cheeks, but there’s no sign of any emotion on his face.

“This is…” He scoffs. “Fine. I’ll see you when I see you. Have a good Christmas, (Y/N).” He turns his back on you, and before you even attempt to comprehend what just happened, he’s gone and your door is slamming behind him.

12:30pm, December 25th, 2022 | Your bedroom

You and Chenle had a late night. You’re just beginning to stir from your slumber, groaning as you turn toward him. Since you’re not sure what time it is, all you do is cuddle close to him, hoping he’ll bring his naked body as close to yours.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he mumbles sleepily, cradling you into his chest and kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas.” You grin, squeezing your arms around him.

You’re not sure exactly how it happened, but suddenly, your bedroom door flies open. You squeal and pull the blanket up to cover yourself, and Chenle pulls you to him.

“What in the hell—” Mark blinks, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Chenle?”

“Observant,” you deadpan, flipping him off. “Nice job knocking.”

“Well, you two get dressed. The others will be here in like, four minutes.” Mark slams the door behind him again, and you sit up.

Chenle joins you, lips finding your neck. “We could just let them find us like this.”

“That’ll be really easy to explain come January 1st.” You allow the blanket to fall and stand up to grab more clothes. As you sift through your drawers, Chenle’s gaze is glued to you.

“I thought we weren’t hiding this?”

“We…we’re not.” You frown. “I just don’t exactly want all of our friends to see me naked. Or you, for that matter.” You put on a new bra and change your panties before grabbing a T-shirt and some jeans.

“(Y/N), be serious. You don’t want them to know about us.”

“It’s not that easy, Chenle—”

“Then make it easier.” He frowns.

“I don’t want them to know because I don’t want things to be awkward after this. It’s already going to be hard enough, okay? I just want things to go as smoothly as possible.”

“Do you have feelings for me?” He crosses his arms over his chest as you button your jeans.

“Are you serious?” You scoff. “I’ve told you a thousand times that I do—”

“Do you love me?”

His words freeze you in your tracks, and as you open your mouth to speak again, you find no words come out. How do you tell him you love him so desperately that you can’t be with him? Does that even make sense?

“Jaemin’s here!” A loud voice carries from the living room and you cringe.

“We’ll talk about this later.” You pull your shirt on and point a finger at him. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret. Get dressed and act like I asked you to carry the presents down from my closet.”

Without another thought, you tie your hair up messily and head into the bathroom to brush your teeth.

10:14pm, June 10th, 2023 | Yeouido Park, Yeongdeungpo-gu, Seoul, South Korea

Nothing is right without him.

Nothing.

11:20am, December 25th, 2023 | Your bedroom

Dialtone.

Voicemail.

“This is Chenle. Don’t leave a message because I don’t listen to them.”

Beep.

That’s the sixth time you’ve tried him this morning. He hasn’t responded or texted you once. Your heart is racing and breaking at the same time, and you wonder if this time, you’ve gone too far.

2:37pm, December 25th, 2022 | Your house

Everyone has opened up their gifts, and now you’re all hanging out around the house. You know you’ve set yourself up for a difficult conversation later, so you avoid Chenle as much as possible that day. Mark glances between the two of you knowingly, clearly realizing that something isn’t as obvious as it seems.

You don’t want to hurt Chenle. That’s the last thing you want to do.

Either way, you’ll break his heart. You just have to pick the decision that’s better for you both.

12:30pm, December 25th, 2023 | Your house

Everyone’s here.

Everyone except Chenle.

4:13pm, December 25th, 2022 | Your house

You look at all your friends seated at your kitchen table, casually conversing and eating the dishes each person brought in. It’s a casual Christmas—one that you have every year. This time, even though he’s mad at you, Chenle makes it feel a little fuller. A little more perfect.

You want to keep him around forever, and you’re sure the only way you can do that is by being his friend. If you love him, it’ll be destined to fail.

2:37pm, December 25th, 2023 | Your house

You’re off. You know everyone can tell you’re in your head right now. They notice Chenle’s absence, but they don’t say a word. How could they? They don’t know the truth. No one does except for Mark, and the grim look on his face tells you that he’s heard from Chenle.

You pull him into the kitchen and cross your arms over your chest. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Mark shakes his head and shrugs. “He told me he wouldn’t be here, but he wouldn’t even tell me why. I’m assuming something happened between you two?”

“He…he said he’s still in love with me. You were right, okay? But I couldn’t do it.”

“Why not?” Mark asks, giving you an incredulous look.

“I’m scared.”

“Yeah, get in fucking line.” He glances over his shoulder to make sure no one else has entered the room. “Look, (Y/N), I get it. Life sucks and things don’t work out all the time, but you and Chenle…I’ve known it since you first introduced him to us. He means something to you, and you’re an idiot if you let him go. And instead of spending Christmas with us, he’s alone in his room and hating his life—”

“I thought you didn’t know where he was.”

“Shut up. That’s besides the point.”

“He’s alone?” you whisper the words, clenching your eyes shut and trying to think of anything but him sad and alone on Christmas.

“We’re all he has. You know that.”

“What do I do?” You wipe at your eyes, jaw quivering. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

“Figure out if you want him or not.” Mark sighs. “He’s not going to hurt you, but you have to give him the opportunity to prove that.”

9:43pm, December 25th, 2022 | Your house

Jaemin is the last person to leave, meaning you and Chenle are alone all over again. You clean up some of the stray cups and snack dishes, ignoring his presence while he helps you. Every second that passes builds the pressure on your chest, and you want to scream and cry and ask him why he’s making this difficult when he swore he wouldn’t.

“Can we talk?” he asks as you set your handful down in the sink.

“About what?” You turn the water on, anything to avoid looking at him.

“Stop doing that, damn it.” He grabs your wrist and turns you around.

His face is contorted in an emotion you haven’t seen from him before. He’s desperate, upset, and irritated all wrapped up into one.

“I don’t want to lie to you anymore,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing this. I’m in love with you, (Y/N). I want to have you every day. Everything you have to offer, I want it. Being busy is a shit excuse not to love someone, and I promise I’ll prove to you we can do it if you let me.” Despite the confidence in his posture, his voice shakes as he speaks. He holds onto you, gaze begging you to see reason.

“You said you wouldn’t get mad at me,” you reply.

“I’m not mad at you,” he insists. “I love you. I love you so much that it fucking hurts to think that all I get after this is friendship. I told you I would respect your choice, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to ask you one last time to pick me.”

You glance up at the ceiling to stop your tears, sniffling. “Please.”

“Do you love me?” He puts his hands on the counter on either side of your, his face inches from yours. “Be honest with me, please.”

“Do I love you?” You scoff, voice thick. “Of course, I do.”

“Say it.”

“I did.”

“No, tell me you love me. Say it properly and to my face.”

Tears blur your vision, and you cup his cheeks. “I love you, Chenle.”

“Then why isn’t it enough?” He leans forward, resting his forehead on yours. “Why isn’t what we have enough?”

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “We had a deal. You said you’d respect my decision. That we could be friends.”

“And we will be. But I…we can’t spend the rest of December together. It’ll be too hard for me, and that’s not fair.” He gulps, blinking back his own tears.

“Please don’t go.” You grab hold of his shirt sleeve. “Just a few more days, Chenle. I’m not ready to let you go.”

As a tear falls down his cheek, he leans forward and kisses you. It steals all the air right from your lungs as if you’ve been punched in the gut. You feel every ounce of desperation in that kiss, but in the end, it still wasn’t enough.

Chenle pulls away, wipes his face, and lets out a shaky sigh. “I love you.”

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you slide down until you’re sitting on the floor. You watched him leave, and with him, your heart trailed not too far behind.

8:59pm, December 25th, 2023 | Your house

You can’t take it anymore.

You never stopped loving him either, and Mark was right. Hurt is inevitable, and the only thing you’re doing by protecting yourself is hurting both you and Chenle. You don’t plan on stopping to tell anyone where you’re going despite it being your house, but Jaemin and Jeno stop you as you grab your purse by the door.

“Where are you going?” Jaemin asks.

Everyone stops—Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, Jaemin, Jeno, and Jisung—and waits for your response. You send a panicked look at Mark, but he only gives you a nod. How do you admit this to your friends? You lied to all of them, but you want them to support you in getting Chenle back?

“I…I’m gonna go buy more alcohol.”

“Boo!” Mark yells, crossing his arms over his chest.

You roll your eyes and shift on your feet, suddenly uncomfortable by the confused looks your friends are giving you. “I…Okay, Chenle’s not here because of me, and I’m really scared I’ve ruined everything, so I’d like to go check on him if you guys could hold down the fort.”

“And…” Mark makes circles with his hands, urging you to continue.

“And what? I really have to get into that right now?” You frown at him.

“Yes.” He glares at you.

“Fine. I’m…in love with him, I guess.” You cringe at yourself. “And we were…something last December, but I was an idiot and I let him go. I don’t want to do that again.”

Mark looks smug when you glance at him for approval. You’re not expecting it, but all the boys sigh in relief.

“Finally,” Jaemin groans. “I thought we were gonna have to perform a lobotomy on you to get you to admit that.”

“Huh?” Your jaw drops.

“Well, yeah, you look at him like he gave you the best dick of your life,” Donghyuck interjects.

Mark slaps him upside the head. “Dude. PG. Love and feelings, not dicks and sex.”

“Well, he looks at her the same way.” Donghyuck throws his hands up in mock surrender. “You know, except that it’s like…magic pu—”

“Donghyuck.” Renjun cuts him off, facepalming. “Yes, (Y/N), please go save Chenle from himself and tell him the truth. We all know you love him.”

“I…Right. Thanks guys. I’ll be back soon.” You grin at them.

“We hope not.” Jisung purses his lips, and Donghyuck high fives him.

“You guys are children.” You’re still smiling as you exit your home, rushing over to your car.

You were going to make things right.

9:43pm, December 25th, 2023 | Chenle’s house

You give yourself a mental pep talk before walking up to Chenle’s door. It’s much more daunting than you remember. Behind it is your love, the man who’s put up with your denial and bullshit for over a year. He deserves an explanation.

You knock a few times, careful not to be too loud. Rocking on the balls of your feet, you wait for him to answer. When he doesn’t come at first, you almost go back to your car. You almost give up.

He doesn’t want to see you, and he has every right to feel that way.

But you refuse. You knock harder, hearing the sound echo inside his house.

Within a minute, he’s opening the door, eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth to speak, but it’s clear he’s used up all the words he’s wanted to say to you. You hoist the bag over your shoulder to his feet, chest heaving from the strain of carrying it from your car.

“These are your Christmas presents.” You nudge it closer to him. “Not just from me. From the guys, too.”

“(Y/N)...” He sighs.

“You have every right to hate me and be mad at me and have a dart board with my face on it. I get it. But our friends are concerned and worried.”

“I’m pretty sure they’d understand where I’m coming from if they knew.” He shakes his head and goes to close the door. You panic, unsure of how to get him to listen to you.

“I told them everything,” you blurt out. “About us. And how we had our stupid deal and it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life. How I sent you away when I knew I’d never be able to or want to love someone else the same way I love you.”

He stops—moving, breathing, blinking, everything.

“And how you not being there for Christmas hurts so bad. Because I lost you in a different way last year, so I can’t lose you any further this year. I won’t allow it, Chenle. I fucking love you, but I’m scared. Terrified that we’ll burst into flames the second anything good happens to us because that’s…that’s fucking life, you know?

“And if we don’t work, I’d lose you for real. Never see you again, never hear your laugh, never watch you bully the boys affectionately. I wasn’t ready for that. Not that I am now, but I’m not scared of that anymore. I…I love you. And I know I said that like seven times already, but it’s true. I’m not scared of losing you anymore because I know how real these feelings are.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I broke your heart last year and that you’re so upset that you had to spend Christmas by yourself. I think about our time together…all the time. How you used to pull me a little closer in the mornings when you woke up, how you kissed the tip of my nose when you thought what I was doing was cute. I miss that. I want that back. If you’ll trust me one more time.”

You pant, fear pulling at your veins as his expression doesn’t change. He’s still frozen, looking at you with a blank face. After a few moments, you take that as his answer, and your heart starts beating in your throat.

“Um, yeah. I get it. There’s such a thing as too late, and I’ve been a fucking idiot, so why would you wait for—”

“Oh, for the love of God, stop fucking talking.” He grabs your wrist and yanks you to him, a gasp leaving your throat as you almost stumble over the bag of presents.

Next thing you know, your back is against the wall and his body is firmly against yours. You stare up at him in shock.

“But those are kind of temperature sensitive, so you should bring them inside—”

“You’re such a fucking nerd.” He laughs, dropping his head on your shoulder. “I love you so much.”

Your heart floods with relief, and you forget all about the temperature-sensitive presents, kissing him as hard as you can. He stumbles back one step before pulling you as close as he can. Returning your kiss with equal fervor, he runs his fingers through your hair.

“You called me a nerd, you dick.” You wrap your arms around him and bury your head in his chest. His heartbeat is rapid, thundering in his chest so hard you know he’s equally as shocked as you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you since last December.”

“Me too,” you admit to him. “It’s not the same when I don’t get to wake up to you.”

“I thought you didn’t care about me.” He grabs the bag to pull it inside and closes the door.

“I cared too much,” you say. “That’s why I couldn’t do it.”

He kisses you again, fingers weaving into your hair and his other hand trailing down to the small of your back. You know what he really wants, so you guide his touch down to your ass. He grins against your lips before giving you a firm squeeze.

“It’s been so long,” he breathes out. “So, so fucking long.”

“What are you saying?” You roll your hips forward, already knowing what he means.

“I’m saying I want you so bad, I can’t keep my hands off you.” His mouth traces along your neck. “But our friends are waiting at your house, and they’ll know if we take too long—”

You turn the two of you around so his back is on the wall. “Good.”

Sinking to your knees, your hands quickly reach for the button on his jeans. His eyes widen at the sight.

“What are you doing?”

“Think it’s pretty obvious,” you say, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want me to?”

“I’m gonna bust in my pants just thinking about it, so…yeah, I want it.” He takes a deep breath and strokes the top of your head while you pull his pants down to his knees.

You palm him over his boxers, listening to the way he inhales sharply. To your pleasant surprise, he’s rock hard already, proving he wants you just as badly as you want him.

“This is going to be very embarrassingly short,” he says as your fingers tug at the last piece of fabric keeping him covered.

“Good thing you have all the time in the world to make it up to me.” You glance up at him and see a grin on his face as his head leans back on the wall.

“For the record,” he groans as you pull his length out of his underwear. “You don’t have to do this. No pressure.”

“I know.” You lean forward and kiss the tip. “I want to.”

You lick up his length, and his hands clench at his sides. Grabbing his wrist, you lead his grip to your hair, instructing him silently to guide your mouth onto his cock. He does as you ask, pushing into your mouth with a drawn out moan. You immediately relax yourself to fit him down your throat, not wasting any time in moving your head.

Drool already falls from your lips, and the feeling of him bottoming out has your eyes brimming with tears. He rocks his hips, cursing under his breath every time your warmth engulfs him in his entirety.

“You’re so fucking good, baby,” he mutters, teeth biting down on his bottom lip.

Your tongue traces along the prominent vein on him, and he tightens his grip. He jerks forward with a hiss, and you gag hard around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His head thuds back on the wall. “Gonna cum soon.”

You squeeze your thighs together, rubbing them in an attempt to get any sort of friction. Your hands move to his balls, and as soon as you make contact, he yanks on your head as he thrusts forward, gagging you on his length while he pumps strings of white into your throat.

“Take it,” he coos, stroking your face. “Swallow it, baby. Don’t waste it.”

You pull away from him as he comes down from his high, and you do exactly what he says.

“Let me see.” His thumb caresses your cheek.

You open your mouth, and he moans again at the sight.

“So fucking pretty.”

As he settles himself back in his boxers and buttons up his pants, he watches you closely. “If we weren’t expected somewhere else and you hadn’t sucked the life out of me, you wouldn’t be able to walk right now.”

“Later.”

He kisses you quickly. “And you look so sexy with your lips swollen from sucking my cock.”

You blush, looking away from him.

“You confuse me sometimes.” He laughs, kissing your forehead once. “You’re mine later, baby. I’ll make the wait worth it.”

You know he will.

For now, time to tell your friends you’ve succeeded.

11:33pm, December 25th, 2023 | Your house

You quietly unlock your door, curious if any of the boys are still there at this time.When you walk into your living room, you’re surprised to find all of them staring back at you, eyes honing in on the way you’re gripping Chenle’s hand.

“It’s about time,” Jaemin grumbles. “I thought I was gonna have to sleep on your couch.”

“Yes, congratulations, you two. But I’m exhausted, and you should’ve waited til you got here to fuck so we could go home earlier.” Donghyuck pats his thighs as he stands. “Goodnight.”

Jaemin and Donghyuck leave, and you and Chenle share a glance.

“Ah, I knew you two could do it.” Mark throws his arms over both of you, squeezing you. “But they’re right. It’s way past all of our bedtimes. Let’s go, guys. They probably have a lot of…catching up to do anyway.”

Mark guides everyone out of the house, and before he leaves, gives you two one last encouraging thumbs up.

“What just happened?” You frown.

“I think our friends were more excited about going to bed than us finally getting together.” Chenle raises his eyebrows. “Huh.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll hear about it tomorrow.” You scoff, turning to him to kiss him gently.

“Yeah…that’s if I let them interrupt our time together tomorrow.” Chenle grins at you, walking you backward until your back presses against the couch. “I have big, big plans for you.”

You’re in the longest, best night of your life.

#nct dream #chenle #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #lowkeyjaemle #chenle smut #chenle angst #chenle fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct imagine #nct fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff

196 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 1 year

Text

nonidol!lee hyunjae x fem!reader

your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him!

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, fluff, angst, comedy/humor, swearing, college au, pining, hyunyn r kinda franchise movie buffs, shirtless hyunjae......, slow burn-ish lol, if ur a theater kid i am so sorry, stress and academic pressures, mentions of a bitter ex-friendship and ex-relationship, sabotaging and low-key terrorizing by an ex-friend, kissing, insecurity, lots of jargon i looked up and hope i'm using correctly, massive leaps in time and multiple chapters that span one day 💀, denial is a river in egypt so ig hyunjae's in egypt

▷ total wc. 30.9k (i actually overshot this one r we surprised 0_0)

this is the fourth installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to other fics, and all prev and future yns will be referred to as __!yn !! i do recommend reading at least one of the prior storylines ;')

a/n: mmmmmmmmmm idk what to say but have fun bye!!! AND REBLOG FOR GOD'S SAKE REBLOG PLEASE—

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): ONE ON ONE

“HAVE you always wanted to be a playwright?”

The question caught you off guard as you glanced up from your tablet screen, the white blue-light contrasting sharply against the warm amber radiating from the small, battery-operated lamp seated on the plastic folding table. There were a couple of technical issues going on behind the curtain at the moment, so the transition to the next person auditioning would be delayed by a couple minutes. In retrospect, it was nothing, but when you were already a couple weeks late behind schedule, a couple of minutes was everything.

A young and bright second-year student sat to your right in the middle rows of the university performing arts center nosebleeds. She was peppy and eager and passionate—all the things that you sometimes saw yourself as when you were her age. Her name was Bae Sumin, and she wasn’t here to audition, nor was she here for you. She was actually here to interview a few of the dancers for the winter showcase in representation of the university’s premier newspaper called The Daily. She had asked if she could sit in for a few of the auditions and observe, maybe ask a few questions; who were you to refuse an eagle-eyed undergrad who reminded you so much of yourself?

“Oh, well,” you began, eyes flitting to the velvet curtain where you saw a man in a dark baseball cap—Lee Jihoon—give you a swift thumbs up, “kind of. Playwriting was my first love, but it eventually turned into screenwriting over time.”

“So why choose playwriting for your capstone instead of screenwriting?” Sumin followed up, as you and her attention turned to the spotlit stage where your next auditioner walked out onto.

You knew the answer to that; you really did. But the audition was beginning, and though he was introducing himself to you, you couldn’t quite get your head in the game. Why did you choose to write a play over directing a film? You quickly murmured an answer to the second-year beside you as the student onstage had gotten so nervous he dropped his copy of the script on the floor. “I guess, when it counts, you always go back to your first love.”

— ✶

It was times like these where you really valued a good, strong cup of coffee.

“—I’m gonna stop you right there.” The poor kid—you really did feel bad for cutting people off sometimes, but you swore it was wholly necessary—froze like a deer in headlights. You stood up from your chair and began making your way down the aisle and into one of the rows that were closer to the stage. “Michael, is it?”

Michael, the student on stage who had been auditioning to play the role of a Napa Valley wine salesman, bobbed his head in affirmation.

You dipped your head. “Okay, Michael. Let me ask you: what is your motivation for this scene as a wine salesman? Because, if I’m being honest, dude, I’ve counted like… four different ways you’re playing this character.” In this singular scene alone. Your head was spinning from stress, and his mannerisms felt right for the role, but his acting itself just wasn’t hitting the mark. (If that even made sense, but your initial thought when he first walked onto stage gave you the aura of a business major.)

“Um,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head, “my motivation is to… sell wine?”

“Sell wine, and? What else?” Please pick up on the lines. Please tell me you read the other lines of this character.

He rifled through his packet of stapled script papers, clammy fingers flipping through and his eyes racing over lines. He probably printed out multiple sheets to audition for multiple parts in case this one fell through. “Oh! I, uhm, I’m supposed to eventually lock Alex and Kai in the wine cellar.”

“Because…” You prompted.

“Because… my boss is the… second cousin of the bride’s uncle?” He quickly added on, and you could see the cogs in his brain turning like rent was due (your rent—your rent was due—oh shit), “Wait! Wait! And Uncle Lee overheard the ex-boyfriend plotting to get Alex alone, so he asked me to hide Alex, and I do it because I want to get promoted.”

You punched the admittedly sky-high ceiling of the performance art hall. “Bingo. Now give me desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman, Michael.”

Michael did indeed give you a desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman. He did so, very well, in fact, that you declared that you were done for the day. Because you definitely were. If you saw any more people and heard the same lines of script over and over for any longer, you were going to commit murder. At least, not without filling your stomach first. When Michael was done and scurrying off stage, you caught one of the sophomores working with Jihoon—you thought her name was SW!Yn—and asked if she could have the house lights turned on.

You trudged back up to your original seat up in the nosebleeds and found that Sumin had disappeared off somewhere. However, she left a baby pink-colored sticky note on the table for you to read: I realized that I have an actual job to do, but watching you work was so cool. Thank you for letting me sit in! x, Sumin. She’d scrawled her phone number below the message line in case you were up for a proper session to let her pick your brain, and you felt yourself smile as you tucked the note into the back of your phone case for later.

“Yn-ie!”

You settled into your seat, an eyebrow cocked in blatant amusement as you watched your best friend, Lee Hyunjae, leap down from the stage and bound up the aisle to where you were. “Where’ve you been for the past two hours?” You mused as you began packing your things away into your backpack at your feet. Hyunjae had come in with you early this morning at seven, and for the three out of five hours you’d been conducting callbacks and auditions, he had been seated beside you to keep you (relatively) sane and to give you his opinion.

He, of course, had not been allowed to sit in for Kim Younghoon’s audition, because that was favoritism. Hyunjae tried to convince you by saying he would be even more judgmental of Younghoon, but you had effectively booted him out of the auditorium. After that, he disappeared to god knew where, and Sumin replaced him.

“I’ve been around,” he said to you casually. Instead of coming into the aisle were you were, he went up one more row. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch. Hungry?”

You patted your stomach, leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs over your head like a cat. “Yes, sir. I can go for a buffet and a half right about now.”

“Oh, a buffet and a half?” He chuckled. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your upper half and rested his chin on top of your head. Your heart skipped about a dozen beats then; his embrace was always very warm. “So that must mean you're resuming this train in the afternoon, too.”

“Glad to know you pay attention.”

“Hey!” He squawked indignantly, no doubt jutting his bottom lip out in a Younghoon-esque pout. “I do pay attention to you.”

You made a face that he couldn’t see, but he could feel you pat his hands. “Sure, buddy, sure.”

Cleaning up didn’t take too long, as you reassured (more so reminded) Jihoon that you would be back at around 3 o’clock sharp. If he or Chan weren’t in to turn on lights and the like, you were certain you could hold your own. You and Hyunjae agreed on heading over to one of the closer restaurants on the Ave, only a few minutes’ walk from the performing arts hall. It was a cozy sort of cafe that served really good wonton noodle soup for both winter and summer days (Hyunjae always teased you for drinking hot soup on hot days, but it was something you had done since you were a kid).

Once the two of you had settled in a booth tucked away into the corner of the establishment, you were both swift to relay your orders to the waiter. Saying you were starving would be an understatement.

“You know, there are just some people who I can’t understand how they’ve made it so far in the program,” Hyunjae said to you as you squeezed a wedge of lemon juice into his glass of water. “Thank you,” he beamed boyishly, accepting the lemony beverage to sip. “—I mean, I’m sure they got in somehow, and like—I have no right to judge, but at this point, shouldn’t you understand the basic principles of design?”

You gave a meager bob of your head, taking your own glass to repeat your actions with a new lemon wedge. “They should if they’re all graduating in one quarter, too.”

“They’re all doing capstones,” he confirmed.

You offered him an amused smile. “Well at least you know that you’re doing okay, then.”

Hyunjae sighed, leaning back against his booth seat. His gaze flickered out the window for a second, then his lip curled upward as he returned his attention to you. “I guess so. Oh!”

He straightened and leaned forward again, bracing his forearms onto the table so he inclined himself toward you. “I was gonna tell you all about my backstage adventure!”

You chuckled. “Do tell, Jae.”

“Well, we begin our adventure with collecting dance kids like Pokemon—”

You sputtered around your straw, nearly snorting water from your nose and you swiftly slapped a hand over your mouth. Hyunjae’s eyes lit up as he laughed, but he was reaching over to hand you a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “I did not expect you to say that,” you managed to croak through your miserable laughter.

Hyunjae wagged his eyebrows at you. “What can I say? I am hilarious.”

“One out of a dozen times.”

“One out of one.”

“One out of ten.”

Hyunjae simply smiled. He could do this all day. “One out of one.”

But so could you. “One out of ten.”

He leaned closer. “One out of one.”

Not one to be beaten out by your best friend, you inched closer with a slightly narrowed gaze. “One. Out. Of. Ten—”

“Order of wonton noodle soup and an order of dan dan mian?” Both you and Hyunjae shot apart, heat crawling up to your cheeks, and you wondered if it was obvious to the bored-looking waiter setting your food down on the table. You passed a glance across the table at Hyunjae, but as always, he seemed practically unfazed. In fact, he was grinning like a madman.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. When the waiter disappeared and left you and Hyunjae to your own, strange devices, Hyunjae took a pair of plastic chopsticks from the collection on the table, wiping the pair down, then handing them to you. You thanked him as you accepted the utensils from him and wiped down a soup spoon for yourself.

As the two of you began digging into your separate dishes—with Hyunjae dipping a spoon into your soup and with you reaching over to pluck a couple pieces of minced pork from his bowl—it seemed that a silent truce about the matter prior had come to settle.

Hyunjae suddenly cleared his throat, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t using his chopsticks. “So as I was saying earlier—I found Juyeonie somewhere—I can’t remember. And then we found Sunwoo. The poor kid was just wandering around like a lost sheep; he was looking for Changmin, so we all went searching for him. And then Younghoon caught up with us—how’d his callback go, by the way?”

You swallowed the bite you had in your mouth before answering. “He did great, as usual. But you’re not allowed to know more than that.”

He sent you a playfully unsatisfied deadpan. “Hmph.”

“Hmph, back at ya,” you teased. You arranged a perfect spoonful of noodles, soup and wonton, carefully blowing on the surface. “So where did you guys end up finding Changmin?”

"In a closet."

You lurched, furiously holding back your snort as you closed your mouth around your bite. Bad. Idea.

Hyunjae didn't bother hiding his giggles as he watched you struggle to chew and swallow your bite of food. "You okay over there?"

With a glare that needed no extended interpretation, you wrestled the food down your throat. "I hate you."

"Hehe, whatever you say," he sang. "He was technically in a dressing room, but same thing. He was miserable, dude. Looked so perturbed."

You scoffed. "Perturbed? What is this? The Fast and the Furious?"

"Hey! Leave my man Vin Diesel alone!"

You cocked a brow at him as you slurped noodles into your mouth. "No." And then you added, "There is literally no reason for there to be so many Fast and Furious movies."

He huffed at you. "You know, that's exactly what people say about all franchises. What would you say if somebody came after Star Wars or Marvel like that, hm?"

"I'd murder them, and you'd help me hide the bodies."

A beat passed. "Touché."

Your lip curled in mild satisfaction. "Okay, so why's the squirrel feeling so down in the dumps? Something about that ex of his?"

Hyunjae motioned vaguely with his free hand. "Ex dance partner. Apparently, it was this whole thing that happened in high school, but I didn't get all the details."

"Ah," you replied. "I'm sure a good cup of coffee can get him to perk up just fine."

"Agreed." Hyunjae's eyes went skyward as a thought occurred to him. You couldn't help but admire the definition in his jawline as he did so. "There was something weird that happened."

"Oh?"

He quirked his mouth to the side and a crease formed in his forehead. "Yeah… we were talking about your play, right? And I was agreeing with Changmin that the whole thing was my favorite because you wrote it—"

Oh. You nodded your head indulgently, expression set in a way that seemed like you were incredibly invested in what he was saying. In reality though, your insides were flaring and you could feel the sweat dripping down the back of your neck.

"—and they just looked at each other? Like that thing you and I do when we know exactly what the other person is thinking, but I didn't get it." Hyunjae wrinkled his nose, reaching for his water. "Wondered what that was about."

You averted your eyes to your bowl of soup, trying to get ahold of yourself. "Yeah," you laughed, and you hoped it didn't sound as nervous as you thought it did, "I have no idea what that's about."

He simply shrugged then. "It's probably just something stupid," Hyunjae mused, then chuckled. "Just my friends for you. Silly geese."

You cleared your throat. "Yeah…silly geese, for sure."

And you were going to have a talk with those silly geese.

EPISODE TWO: LET'S ROCK 'N' ROLL

THIS was not your first rodeo, and it certainly would not be your last. It was approximately two weeks later, the Saturday at the caboose of Spring Break, that you found yourself standing in one of the first few rows of nosebleeds with your hair pulled up and out of your face and a packet copy of your script in hand. The entire acting cast sat in a sort of half circle mass on the stage with their own copies of the script. Today was Script Read-Through Day—as well as an intermittent fitting day.

Thanks to the efforts of your fellow workaholic, drama nerd classmate Kim Hongjoong, a handful of costumes for the entire play had been completed over the length of Spring Break. You'd asked your cast to find time over finals week and Spring Break to get a quick fitting done by Hongjoong and his team, and luckily, all of that had gone smoothly.

Now, it was your turn to lean in.

"Let's get down to business, everyone!" You said with a clap of your hands to capture everyone's attention. Your eyes roamed over the faces of the people who were selected and your heart thundered in excitement. This—this was just one part of the rush you lived for. You didn't bother to suppress your grin. "Thanks for being on time and making it back here; I know I cut your break short, but we're on a very tight schedule. Can we start with going around and introducing ourselves with name, year, major, and role?"

The circlet of introductions began at Cha Eunwoo, the young man in your year who you selected for the role of Kai, the main male lead. Younghoon was cast as Ryan, Kai's best friend, and the guy who was marrying Choi Miyeon's character Lily. Minatozaki Sana was playing Alex, opposite Eunwoo. You had been surprised Younghoon hadn't auditioned specifically for the role of Kai, but you were content that he'd gone for Ryan instead—a simple chemistry reading with the four main leads the week prior had confirmed to you that you'd made all the right choices.

The main cast also included Jung Eunbi, Jung Yerin, Choi San, and Dong Sicheng, another close friend of yours. All in all, you had been incredibly lucky with the ending line up of cast members, and the supporting cast, too.

The read-through carried along smoothly—well, mostly.

“—why, of course, dear Prim! It mainly trickles down to a few… specific details—Yn,” said San as he abruptly broke out of character. Everyone’s heads shot up from their scripts, including yours, as you watched San’s hand air-gesture to an invisible beard on his face. “I’m getting one of those weird old man beards, right?”

There was a murmur of chuckles throughout the group, and you gave him a small smile. “Of course, you are. I asked Hongjoong for the perverted-looking ones, specifically.”

He grinned, nodding. “Nice!” He thought about it, “Wait…”

Younghoon coughed up a laugh. “Shall we continue?”

You inclined your head in affirmation. “Thanks, Hoon. Yes, let’s get back to it. We were at Uncle Lee’s line about ‘specific details’.”

San had been selected to play the character of Uncle Lee, the role quite literally taken from the original Shakespeare play yours was based upon: Much Ado About Nothing. Your thesis play, the biggest project you would ever conduct in your undergraduate years, was called Jasmine. The storyline centered around ex-somethings, Alex and Kai, who were Maid of Honor and Best Man to their best friends Lily and Ryan, respectively. Because of Alex and Kai’s troublesome past, they acted like they hated each other, and Lily schemed to make them finally see eye to eye—as a wedding gift to herself, of course. She also convinced a party of characters to get in on the plan with her. It had all been very fun for you to write, and you imagined that the actors up on this stage now would make it all the better when they brought it to life.

With the read-through completed, you began splitting up groups to begin chemistry exploration readings. While you ushered Sicheng, Eunwoo, Sana, and a couple of the key supporting cast members onto stage, everyone else hopped down and scattered into the nosebleeds so they could get to know their fellow cast members more intimately.

You stood in the second row of the audience in the smack middle, one arm crossed over your stomach and the other propping your script up for yourself. Younghoon settled on one of the seats next to you, a small smile appearing onto his face as he folded his leg over the other. "Why hello Miss Director."

You hummed good-naturedly. "Why hello Mister Groom. Not up to saying hello to your fellow cast members yet?" Usually he was good about introducing himself to everyone; he was quite the charmer.

"I told the lovebirds I would pay attention to their chemistry reading for pointers," he grinned, eyes sparkling beneath the dim lights. "Kai's nervous about it."

"Ah," you voiced, glancing back to the stage where Eunwoo and Sana began interacting with Sicheng and the others on stage. "Awful nice of you, Ryan. Where's your darling bride?"

He gave you a show of wistful glance as he turned his eyes toward the ceiling and propped his cheek against his fist. "My beloved? Well, she is working her magic for the wedding. I told her—" he leaned forward onto his knees then, gesturing with his hands, "—I told her, darling! This is your special day. Anything you want is what I want. You should have seen the smile on her face—a daisy in bloom, Miss Ln.”

An amused expression fixed upon your face, you tipped your imaginary hat to him. “I think you should go find your bride, sir, before her plans get out of hand.”

“Her plans could never get out of hand,” he dismissed with the flick of his wrist.

“So you’re a Yes Man now?” You replied, your brain racking for the one part in the script you had written with this exact dialogue.

You saw the recognition flicker in Younghoon’s eyes. “That’s what love does to you, my friend. It’s not the same as those tally marks you always draw in that notebook,” he replied swiftly, gesturing to your script like it was the notebook that Kai was supposed to keep. “Say, you’ve never told me what those were for.”

Pleased, you arched an eyebrow. “That’s not the line, Hoon.”

You saw the moment he snapped out of character. He smiled, the kind of Younghoon trademark everyone could recognize and become spellbound by. “I don’t have the entire script memorized yet, Yn-ie.”

“I bet you have at least half of it memorized.”

He opened his mouth to remark something when someone hollered, “Oy” from the stage. Both you and Younghoon turned your attention to Eunwoo, who had captured both of your attention. He threw his arms open wide with a teasing grin. “Ryan, you’re supposed to be watching my back, man!”

Sana shot him a scowl. “Hey, if you get a second in this duel, then I get one, too. Lily!”

“As much fun as dueling you and winning would be, Alex, I’m not stuck in ye old days—”

“Your savior has arrived!” Everyone’s heads whirled in the direction of the doors at the back of the auditorium. There was a good handful of people who began filing in through the doors, with a very familiar blond at the helm of all the madness. Reminiscent of that one fiery Elmo meme, your best friend had his arms raised with an ear-splitting grin on his face.

Kevin Moon, one of the people amongst the masses, rolled his eyes as he passed Hyunjae to enter the auditorium. “They’re rehearsing, man.”

Choi Chanhee was swift to follow his friend. “Yeah, Hyunjae,” he teased with a grin.

You fixed your friend with a confused look. “Uhm… Hyunjae, what’s happening?”

Hyunjae jogged down to where you were, leaving his army of… people? behind. “You said you needed volunteers to help you prepare set pieces, right? Well, I told you I’d recruit some people and—” He made a wide, sweeping gesture toward the large group of people now simply crowded at the back of the room, awaiting instructions. Kevin and Chanhee sent you boyish smiles as they waved in greeting. “—I did!”

The lightbulb went off in your head. You couldn’t believe you forgot. “Oh, my god. You actually listened.”

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. “Hurtful.”

Younghoon laid his head against his arms over the back of his seat with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “Aw, how romantic.”

Hyunjae pointed to his lanky actor friend. “Is he in character?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Your head shot over to Younghoon just as his eyes met yours. The man shrugged with feigned innocence, standing up to greet Chanhee and Kevin as the other two began slowly leading the army of volunteers down to where you all were setting up. You wondered how on Earth that man’s partner could stand his impish antics.

Hyunjae slipped into the row with you with a wince. “Aish, I can never figure out when he’s in proper character or not.”

“He is,” you blurted. You knew for a fact that Younghoon hadn’t been in character, but Hyunjae didn’t need to know that. Ignorance was bliss, after all. “But that’s besides the point—Jaehyun—”

He flashed you a smile, bringing his hands up to make a jazz hands gesture. “Uh oh, that’s my name-name. I either did really well or screwed up big time.”

You laughed, pressing your free hand to your forehead. “You did really well—”

“Yes!” He cheered while punching the sky. He laughed, bumbling over to you with arms open wide to embrace you. You simply could not escape him. “You’re welcome.”

You lightly punched his chest. “I never said thank you. But thank you. I appreciate it a lot.”

He let you go, lightly patting your head. A warm wave of energy made your nerves feel fuzzy at their synapses. “You don’t have to thank me for doing this for you. By the way, YH!Yn is on her way over; she’s just coming back from her internship.”

Younghoon suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared in the row again. “I heard YH!Yn’s name,” he chirped with a smile that looked like a heart. He waved his phone screen around, as if you could actually read what was on his screen, “Yeah, she said she’s on her way now.”

You nearly melted. “Oh, really? She doesn’t have to if she’s uncomfortable, Hoon. I know big crowds make her anxious—”

“Ah, it’s all good,” he said. “She’s happy to do it, really. It’s not that big of a crowd here, and you’re her friend, Yn. She wants to help out.”

“Speaking of more friends helping out—” cut in Kevin with Chanhee in tow (where did all of them pop up from, goodness), “—Cobie just texted that he, Sangyeon, Juyeon, and JC!Yn are all on their way, too. What’s the plan for all the set pieces then, Yn?”

All eyes went to you, and you felt your heart swell with love, pride—quite literally every happy emotion there was. This whole project had plagued your every waking and unconscious thought for months now. The pressure for this production to be good… there were too many people watching you now. But as you led your friends and your supposed army of volunteers to the backstage area, you felt like there was no way you could fail.

Right?

— ✶

You were cleaning up for the night. Your throat ached and exhaustion wore at your bones from the very extensive day you and everyone else had. Almost the entire cast and volunteer and tech crew members had cleared out by now—your friends had all decided to get dinner together, and you would all head over once you had finished with your business here.

You hiked the strap of your bag over your shoulder with a haggard sigh as you passed beneath the ghost light hanging backstage that signaled that Jihoon was practically done for the night. You caught a glimpse of the man hustling down the corridor and you called out to him.

“Hey, Jihoon-ah! I was hoping I could catch you on your way out.”

Jihoon glanced up from his phone, his slight smile illuminated in the pale blue-light of his phone screen. “Ah, hey, Yn-ie. Good first rehearsal today?”

You fell into step with him as you both maneuvered the dark backstage corridors together. “Yeah, actually. I’m very proud of everyone’s progress so far. I was so stressed about being a couple weeks behind, but… I’m lucky I have such a good group of people here.”

He hummed, nodding. “Definitely. That one—your Hyunjae—”

Your heart stumbled. “Hyunjae? What about him?”

“It’s nothing, but I thought I should mention that I heard a couple girls gossiping earlier—”

You nearly stopped in your tracks, and you felt something crawl beneath your skin. “What’d they say?”

Jihoon glanced over at you, maybe a bit surprised at how sharp your tone was, but he continued on smoothly, “You know that I don’t like involving myself in that petty drama, right? But they were volunteering with the set pieces and stuff, and they were talking shit about him. The usual, like, cocky, arrogant bullshit. Something about wondering how you put up with him all the time.”

You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. “Jesus,” you swore. “Who were they? I’ll deal with them—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said to you, firmly but not unkindly. The two of you had stopped in the middle of the corridor now, your voices hushed yet harsh still. “Hey, Yn—I took care of it. I don’t tolerate that shit in my theater, you hear? You have a lot on your plate, so I didn’t want you to worry, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”

Breathe, Yn. Your eyes shuddered for a moment. Hyunjae wasn’t always as well-mannered around other people as he was around you and his friends. He was like that for good reason—there were some things in one’s past that shaped who you would become, and unfortunately, that was one thing that you hadn’t been able to protect him from back then. So hearing something like this? You felt awful.

You finally gave Jihoon a nod. “Right, yeah… thanks Jihoon. Really.”

He nodded back. “Of course. Does that happen often?”

You rubbed the place between your eyes where an ache had formed. “No—I mean, he’s just got a front he puts on, but it’s not often. Maybe those girls just witnessed him on one of his bad days. He—” You shook your head.

“I get it; no need to explain it to me,” Jihoon murmured. He gently guided you toward the door out into the main auditorium where Hyunjae said he’d be waiting for you. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know. He’s great.” I love him.

When the two of you emerged into the darkened auditorium, the only light present was the one from Hyunjae’s phone. Your best friend glanced up from his screen, pocketing it away as he stood up to meet you. “Hey, everything okay?”

You and Jihoon exchanged glances. You met Hyunjae’s eyes, your smile small. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

EPISODE THREE: WE’RE ALL JUST TRYING TO KEEP THE STAGE LIGHTS ON

IT was Monday evening when you determined that you had reached the point in time where everything would only escalate from here. There was something about seeing the backstage crowded with techies that made everything seem ten times more real. Your day had begun an hour or two earlier than the actors’ as you came in to meet Jihoon and Bang Chan about set pieces and creative direction. When your actors had come in, rehearsal commenced by working through the first act of the script and creating a deeper understanding of motivations and purpose.

On Saturday, along with the chemistry explorations, there was also a moment where you had to sit everyone down and give them a better understanding of what this project even came from. (There was a real inspiration to the story, but there was no way you could expose yourself like that, especially in front of Hyunjae.) There had been yet another run through of the script, with some of your actors switching up the way they played their parts just slightly. That same experimentation would continue today.

You were in the box with Chan and a couple of his underclassmen peers as the few of you were discussing the matter of spotlights and the like. It was early in the rehearsal process, but it definitely killed to be early.

You heard a slight commotion as the doors at the back of the auditorium opened.

“You got it covered in here?” You asked Chan, already one foot out of the tech box.

Chan flashed you a dimpled smile and a thumb’s up, and you were on your way out and toward the sounds of newcomers. You could already make out the figures of your friends Park Jihyo and Wen Junhui from where you were running up to them.

“YN!” Jihyo squealed as she rushed to come bury you in a hug.

“Oh my god, thanks for coming, you guys,” you gushed, crushing yourself to her.

Jun scurried over, wrapping his limbs around the two of you, as well. The two of them had quite literally insisted on coming to this rehearsal as your sanity check, which you deeply appreciated. Well that, and the fact that Jihyo was helping you manage the finances for this project, as well as any sponsors who came through to support the play. You had never been good with that stuff, but luckily, your econ-business-major friend was. (Jun was always there for moral support; him being versed in acting also helped, too, with directing when you couldn’t.)

The three of you immediately got to work, and you were finally able to return to your own actors as the lot of you worked through the first couple of scenes of act one.

“What do you suggest we talk about?” Eunwoo asked from stage left where he and Younghoon lingered with their scripts in hand. They were standing opposite the stage from Miyeon and Sana, who were supposed to walk onto the stage from the right like walking into a restaurant. The main focus of the scene was supposed to be Miyeon and Sana, but because Younghoon and Eunwoo were still onstage, they had to act like they were actually doing something even if their microphones wouldn’t be activated.

Younghoon gave a shrug and an easygoing smile. “What do you think Kai and Ryan talk about?”

“Kai feels like the kind of pompous jerk who speaks only in Ralph Waldo Emerson and Sylvia Plath.”

“That could be an interesting dynamic,” Jun chimed in.

You lifted a shoulder in agreement. “I say ‘yes’. Let’s just see what this looks like—Eunwoo, play that; Younghoon, play the exact opposite.”

Younghoon sputtered a laugh, but he saluted, understanding your directions (somehow… it was probably because you had worked with him for a long time over the course of both of your academic careers). “Aye-aye.”

You made a waving motion toward stage right where Miyeon and Sana were poking their heads out from behind the curtains. “Ready? Action.”

It turned out that the overly smart version of Kai was not what the scene needed. After a couple of new directions to Eunwoo about this little thing, you eventually settled on a nice in-between that reminded you awfully of a certain someone…

Lo and behold, you heard the doors at the back of the auditorium open up once more. You didn’t turn your attention away from the scene playing out before you, but you had an inkling of who had entered the sphere of the dramatic.

It wasn’t until the brunch scene had finished, you pursed your lips, nodding. “I like that.”

“I like it, too,” Jihyo said, paired with a nod from Jun.

You flipped through your script, asking for the actors taking part in the next scene—the bar scene—to come to the stage. “Uhm, let’s see… I need all of the main cast, barring Kai and Alex, to the stage. I also need Bartender 1 to come out, as well.” You waved your hand around toward the middle of the stage. “Make a little cult circle or something—yes, Younghoon, you have to stand next to Miyeon, silly goose.”

It was now that you finally turned around to confirm your prediction of who had joined the crowd. Just a few rows up from where you and your friends were sat three eager faces. Presently, it was Hyunjae, Eric, and his girlfriend, the former of which greeted you by raising up what looked like an iced caramel macchiato. God bless.

You hustled up to where they were, making grabby hands at the frost drink. “Thank you,” you sighed, accepting the drink and straw from him.

“Aye! Hyunjae!” Younghoon hollered from the stage. “Where’s my drink?”

Hyunjae cupped his hands around his mouth. “The kid has it!”

“I’m not a kid,” Eric sulked as he attempted to cross his arms over his chest while also not spilling the iced americano he was in possession of.

“That’s right!” EC!Yn mused, then added, “You’re my baby.”

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose at the lovey-dovey young lovers. “Oh, now that was awful, EC!Yn,” he groaned. He nudged your elbow from where you stood next to his seat. “Wasn’t that gross?”

Your brain was filled with caramel and caffeine. “Leave them be, Jae. At least they have someone to be gross with.”

Hyunjae mocked a face of offense, and Eric and his girlfriend slipped past you two in youthful giggles to go deliver Younghoon’s drink to him down at the bottom stage. When the two of you were left alone, Hyunjae pressed his cheek against his fist as he peered up at you. “How’s today been so far?”

You finished your sip, swallowing down the sugary, caffeinated goodness. “It’s been alright so far. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well,” he sighed, “I knew you were probably going hours without water, so I thought I’d at least bring you something pleasant.”

You sat down on the floor beside his aisle seat, silently offering him a sip of the drink he had treated you to. “You know me too well. And what do you mean? You did bring me something pleasant.”

Hyunjae took a ginger sip of the drink then pushed the cup back toward you. He grinned, flipping a lock of imaginary hair behind his shoulder. “Ah, you mean me—”

“I meant the kids,” you teased as you smiled around your straw with a look that was hardly innocent.

He deadpanned at you. “Never letting my head stay in the clouds ever, huh, Miss Ln?”

“Someone has to keep you humble.”

A soft laugh fell from his lips as he shook his head, then pressed his lips to his knuckles. “Well I guess if it's gotta be anybody, it should be you. Then again, that Chanhee keeps me on my toes, too."

"Weren't you the one who said he had no ass first?"

He let out a snort. "I only speak the truth."

"That you do," you agreed.

Hyunjae flicked his phone screen on for a second to catch the time and grunted. "Ugh, I have to go meet with my group members for a project in Public Infrastructure."

Your lips curled downward. "It's literally the first day of the quarter—you have a project already?"

He huffed sharply out of his mouth, sending one of his longer bits of bangs flying upward. "That's what I'm saying. Professor is insane this quarter, especially for putting me in this group. He said he picked our groups for us because we 'don't always get to choose in the real world'." He made a face. "Somebody has hurt that man, and we are paying for it. Pretty sure the people in my group don't even like me."

Your chest ached at that, and you leaned your chin onto his arm rest while he settled his head against the back of his chair. "I'm sorry, Jae. I know group projects are hard with strangers, but maybe they'll be cool with you? Are you just a little anxious maybe?"

"Dunno," he mumbled, picking at a stray thread on the red seat. He raked a hand through his hair, shifting. "I'm just dreading it, I guess. I just have that feeling y'know?"

"Yeah, I get that." You bumped your hand against his, mustering up an encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, Jae. I believe in you."

Hyunjae collected himself enough to smile back. "I can always count on you, Yn."

"Of course," you said, as easy as breathing air. You exhaled, "What are best friends for?"

— ✶

You found yourself seated in the darkness of the auditorium seats, the ghost light of the stage your only company. The ghost light was a single bulb that hung from mid stage in order to prevent any mishaps or accidents from happening when one had to stumble about in the darkness of the theater. It was a single part of theater superstition, as well as a sign that Jihoon and Chan had gone on their way for the night, leaving you to lock up. You'd been given charge of empty theaters before, and frankly, the peace and quiet was something you needed.

The time was nearing nine o'clock though, and your stomach growled at the thought of going back to your warm townhouse shelter for some pity ramen.

You finally shut the lid of your laptop, slipping it into your bag so you could stretch your aching limbs. You popped a couple joints as you did, then reached for your drained cup of iced caramel macchiato.

The rest of rehearsal had gone reasonably well. You were making progress, and that was the important part. Eric and his girlfriend had left a little before Hyunjae had in order to go get dinner together. Hyunjae had understandably been reluctant to leave, but he basically convinced you to let him call you while he made his way over to his project meet up location. You were directing as he did, but he didn't seem to mind and listened quietly with the occasional humorous comment.

You hoped he was doing okay.

Just as you slung your bag over your shoulder, typing out a fast text to Hyunjae to ask about how it went, your ears picked up the faint sound of creaking wood.

You froze, your head whipping around the very empty theater for the sound.

You heard it again—it was the slow, haunting creeeak, like someone was taking a deliberately drawn-out step. The hand around your phone tightened as you turned your gaze to the stage. The ghost light hung eerily in the now-quiet hall, its amber light creating a circle of light beneath it like a beacon for creatures of the night.

Creeeak… creeeak…

"Jihoon?" You called out. "Chan? Is that you?"

The creaking stopped; a shiver crawled down your spine.

"Is someone there?"

When you were met with silence, you pressed a hand to your forehead, speed-walking up the aisle of the theater and out into the lobby. Swiftly locking all the doors behind you as you made your exit, you figured you were probably just hearing things.

As you deposited your empty cup into the trash bin just outside the theater doors, you received a reply from Hyunjae. The performance hall door thunked closed after you twisted the lock mechanism into place.

With no more than a glance at the dark windows, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the bus stop.

EPISODE FOUR: IT'S ALWAYS THE DARK AND STORMY NIGHTS

FRIDAY night brought an onslaught of the sky's wrath in the form of a storm. Rehearsal had progressed decently, and while you did appreciate how hard everyone was working, you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t rush the process if you wanted a phenomenal end product. You just needed to have faith in the people you were working with.

Nearly everyone had gone home by now, barring yourself, Jihoon, Chan, and a couple of undergrads they were keeping around to show them the ropes. You were in the backstage area packing up your things to head out for the night. You could hear the voices of your peers echoing slightly through the bowels of the theater, but none of them were too near to your location.

The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood up as you reached for a page of script cues that one of the techies had left behind on a stool.

You straightened, your eyes scanning the backstage area. All the lights were on tonight since Jihoon and Chan were still here. The ghost light was not your only companion tonight, and yet…

There had been a feeling creeping up on you this past week… something unsettling like you were being watched. Perhaps it wasn’t you specifically being watched—it was more so that you were never truly alone when you knew no one else was here with you. There was something bothering you about the shadows of the theater lately, and they had almost never been anything but comforting.

You had to visibly suppress your soul from jumping out of your skin when you heard that goddamn wooden creaking sound.

“Yn-ie?”

Your heart did about five cartwheels and a barrel leap as you whirled around to find Chan coming in from the other side of the curtain. He noticed your jumpiness and concern fell over his features. “Hey, you good?”

You usually weren’t so much of a scaredy cat, dear god. You let out a laugh, though it sounded more nervous than you liked. “Yeah—no, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little antsy, is all.” Yeah, that’s it. You slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder and walked over to Chan to bump fists with him in greeting. “You and the others wrapping up?”

Chan’s eyes swept over you and his mouth quirked into an expression that told you he didn’t believe your “I’m fine” bit at all. But he was never one to pry where he believed to be crossing a line. “Not really, actually,” he sighed, cupping the back of his neck above the headset hanging there, as the two of you moved back into the main auditorium together. “We just realized that some of the speakers have been left on for the past week. They seem to keep coming on even though we turn them off; just outdated tech, I guess. But we’re trying to see if we can fix them before considering getting new ones.”

The hammering in your heart subsided for a moment as your brows pinched together and your brain switched into work-mode. “Really? Okay, well, let me know if I can do anything to help—that is weird.”

You eventually said goodnight to everyone left in the performing arts hall as you let yourself out through the front doors. The rain seemed to have subsided from earlier, and the night was left with dark cumulus clouds looming above your head, and rain-soaked streets that smelled heavily of metal and petrichor. A cold, biting wind swept past your face and nipped at your extremities as you pulled your jacket around you tighter.

The walk to the bus stop wasn’t an awfully long one, but…

You stopped.

You swore you just heard a clattering sound from just behind you. Your attention went to a collection of trash cans sitting only a few meters behind you. When no animal revealed itself to be the source of the noise, you clutched your small canister of mace into your fist.

A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, and you turned on your heel to start walking faster toward the bus stop.

There weren’t many street lights posted in this area of campus, but if you could just get—

“YN!”

You nearly screamed when someone grabbed you by the shoulder, and you lifted the can of mace up in between you and the person.

“Shit, Yn. It’s just me!” Hyunjae slapped his palm over yours and shoved the nozzle of the mace can down and out of his vision. He wrestled your body to a stop, anchoring you to reality. “Holy shit, honey. Shhh, calm down. It’s just me.”

You furiously inhaled and exhaled, your chest rising and falling as you pressed a hand to your sternum. “Lee Hyunjae, what is wrong with you?” You growled. Had it been him this whole time?

Hyunjae dared a cheeky smile. “Well, I just saw you from down the street and I thought you saw me, but you kept walking. I guessed you were just in your head tonight, so I thought it’d be fun to surprise you.”

“You don’t grab a girl in the middle of a darkened, abandoned street and yell in her ear to surprise her.” Your eyes were hard as you reprimanded him; he was your best friend, yes, but you nearly had a heart attack right then. Your nerves were so on-edge that you just couldn’t joke with him at this moment.

He winced then. “Ah, when you put it like that…” He pressed his lips together, eyes taking in your tense form. There was something else in your face other than annoyance at his stupidity—something that troubled him. His voice grew soft, his touch even softer, as his hand cupped the back of your shoulder in a warm hold. “Hey, everything okay? I’m really sorry for doing that; it was stupid of me.”

You huffed a sigh and avoided his eyes. “This isn’t the first time I thought someone was watching me,” you confessed lowly, so not even the wind could hear you.

Hyunjae’s eyes widened when you said that, and he was swift to wrap an arm around your shoulders and gather you against him. His gaze surveyed your surroundings and the shadows seemed to dance in his view; his breath hitched. “Let’s get you home,” he murmured then, “I’m parked nearby.”

EPISODE FIVE: THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

THE next day, Jihyo, Jun, Jacob, and Kevin were seated deep into the nosebleeds within the dim areas of the theater. Straight ahead, you and Hyunjae stood in the first few rows of seats as the actors were doing a run-through of the first act of the play. Hyunjae simply sat in the seat next to you, but you were doing your director thing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary at all to see you two so close, but something had shifted overnight from the last time all of them had seen you and he interact.

“Remind me again why you guys are here so early?” Jihyo’s question was directed toward Jacob and Kevin as she sipped on her morning cup of coffee. Everyone in the row was armed with their own cup of caffeinated brew, too; that was simply what being awake at nine on a Saturday morning called for.

Kevin peered at the other two from around Jacob. “His girlfriend and Chanhee are grocery shopping.”

Jun snorted. “Are they roommates? Why’s Chanhee grocery shopping with JC!Yn? Sounds a bit random.”

“They’re with her roommate and Changmin, too,” Jacob replied with a joking roll of his eyes. “Kevin’s just petty that they’ve never thought to extend the invitation to us.”

“Hey! You always hint at wanting to join them, too. It’s not just me, good sir.”

“I asked once, and when she said no, I never asked again—”

“—he’d only say that because he’s been scorned by love,” Younghoon lamented from the stage, his arm braced along the back of Miyeon’s folding chair. Props were still being finalized between a couple options, but Jun had found a bunch of folding chairs in a closet that you could use for the bar scene. Everyone’s attention moved away from invitation-less friends to friends playing pretend. He made a dramatic gesture, clutching his heart, then straightening with a laugh as he teased his friend who wasn’t in the scene. “I still think it’s stupid that he and Alex never worked out.”

Eunbi’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline as her hand, holding a water bottle that would later be replaced with a drink glass, froze in mid-air. “I’m sorry? This is news to me. Since when did Kai and Alex even have a chance at ‘working out’?”

Miyeon let out a delighted gasp. “Oh, where to begin?”

Yerin piped in with a lazier gesture with her water bottle. “They weren’t always sworn enemies, y'know. Once upon a time, the ‘lovebirds’ were actually lovebirds,” she chuckled at her own joke—or, her character’s joke.

Younghoon explained, "Their parents pretty much pitted them against each other since the end of middle school. They used to be friends, actually, and they were top of their class in practically everything. Except…"

"Academic League?" Eunbi guessed with her brows twisted. "I remember hearing about something like that."

"Yeah, I mean," Miyeon added, "something happened in junior year and it's been like that since."

"What happened in junior year?—"

Jihyo watched the performance with narrowed eyes, her body leaned forward onto her knees. "This sounds awfully familiar."

The three boys turned their heads her way. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head, eyes fluttering. She made a face and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly like what I'm… Jun, you remember when Yn told us about—you know?"

"That she almost confessed to Hyunjae? Ow! I'm sorry!" Jun yelped as Jihyo slapped his shoulder, hard.

Jacob and Kevin exchanged wide-eyed glances. "She almost confessed to Hyunjae? When?"

Jihyo sent Jun another hard glare, to which he sheepishly raised his hands in surrender, before replying, "Yn said offhandedly once that in junior year of high school, she was almost going to confess her feelings to Hyunjae, but then suddenly decided not to."

Kevin leaned his chin onto his fist. "Huh…"

"I don't know how I didn't even notice this before when I read through the script," Jihyo thought aloud. "Alex and Kai are Yn and Hyunjae—just…with a different ending."

All four heads turned to face forward once more, except, their attention zeroed in on you and Hyunjae. YH!Yn had appeared beside you, most likely updating you on the progress of the massive prop project she was working on for the play. You listened to her report intently as Hyunjae sat next to you, his head leaned onto your shoulder as he played some game on his phone. It was far too soft, far too—there was no way you based this all off of your own experience with Hyunjae, right?

In fact, it was possible.

As YH!Yn let you know that she would have to buy a few more PVC pipes from the hardware store, you assured her that she would be reimbursed for those expenses.

“—I know how busy you are—”

YH!Yn smiled sweetly as she cut you off, “Oh, no worries at all! I’m happy to help, as Hoon said before. Plus, this is a lot more fun than my internship; feels like a little creative project I get to nerd out on.”

You grinned at that sentiment. “Ah, I totally get that. Well, I won’t keep you from it any longer. Thanks again.”

YH!Yn gave a brief goodbye, then stood up to head back out to the backstage area where she was putting together the portable fountain she was building (you had given her a list of possible “show-stopping” prop ideas you had and she had picked the fountain). As she left, you watched as she passed by the bottom stage to catch Younghoon’s hand. Something like yearning ached in your chest. One day…

The mass weighing on your opposite shoulder stirred as he let out a noise of surprise. “Huh?”

You glanced over at him as best you could, then flashed Younghoon a thumb’s up to signal him that you were paying attention now. “Huh what?”

Hyunjae sat up straight, his nose scrunched, eyes pinned to his phone screen. “Didn’t you have a friend named Ellie in like, high school?”

Your lips curled into a slight frown at the name; it definitely rang a bell. “I did, what about her?” You asked. The sounds of the dialogue happening on stage faded to glorified background noise as you leaned over to peer at Hyunjae’s phone screen. There, he had a new text thread pulled up with an unknown number introducing herself as Ellie, a “classmate of his from high school”. Not only were you frowning, but your forehead creased, too. It had been ages since you had last been in contact with her. The two of you had been the best of friends before you drifted apart.

To be honest, you had no idea how the two of you drifted apart so easily when you’d been so close to her, but you ended up getting closer to Hyunjae anyway. You chalked it up to differences in interests, but maybe now you could get some answers. Well, that was depending on why she was texting Hyunjae.

“She texted me,” he said, holding the screen between you two. “Recognize the number?”

You could barely remember your own number. Shaking your head, you lifted your gaze back up to the stage where your actors had already moved through most of the scene. “Nope. Might be a new one since it’s been so long. Wonder how she got your phone number.”

Hyunjae blew out a puff of air as he laughed—you saw him begin to type out a response from the corner of your eye. “How do people not get my number at this point,” he grumbled under his breath.

— ✶

It wasn’t until you were seated in the booth of Junhui’s favorite Chinese restaurant on the Ave that he and Jihyo ambushed you with The Question™.

“So when were you going to tell us that the play was about you and Hyunjae?”

Your movements paused, then resumed so you could properly settle into your seat. "At least let me order first."

To their credit, your friends withheld from further questioning until the waiter had come by to take the table's order. When she had gone and was out of earshot, Jihyo pounced, whipping her head over to you and placing a hand on the table between you. You realized suddenly that you were trapped between her and the wall.

"Spill."

Your eyes widened a smidge, intimidated. "How did you guys figure it out? I mean, it's not that obvious, is it?"

Jun shook his head. "Nah, not really. Ji was just on five shots of espresso this morning apparently."

Jihyo sent him a pointed look. "I was not on five shots of espresso…" She murmured, "It was two."

"Okay, five shots, two shots—" Jihyo flapped her hands around as she angled her body toward you. "It was the bar scene and they were all talking about Alex and Kai. And I thought that the bit about junior year sounded really familiar."

"I can't believe you didn't confess to him back then," Jun feigned a disproving shake of his head while clicking his tongue.

You leaned your face against the palm of your hand with an unpretty fwump. "Guys, the play is basically centered around the idea: what if I had confessed to Hyunjae and it went wrong?"

"Just ten times more dramatic," Jun pointed out.

"And," Jihyo added, "their roles are switched. Kai's the one who confesses to Alex in the play, and it's Alex's ex who makes a grand showing at the wedding festivities to cause trouble. Yn doesn't have an ex."

"Uncalled for," you grunted.

Jihyo gave a charmingly beautiful smile that could make all the world fall at her feet. "You love me."

"You're lucky you're cute."

Jun sipped on his water. "I'm right here."

You and Jihyo bursted into giggles, the sound like twinkling bells. Jun sighed softly, but you saw the corners of his lips lift up into a small smile. For a moment, you had forgotten what the topic of this conversation was.

You sobered slightly, your hands reaching for your water glass to take a gulp, then nurse it between your palms. "Have you ever heard the saying that we always try to recreate our first heartbreak in order to rewrite how it ends?"

Jihyo and Jun quieted. They peered at you with eyes that could peer straight into your soul if you let them. That was why you couldn't exactly meet their eyes as you tried to articulate your thoughts behind writing this whole mess. "I mean," you pursed your lips, "it wasn't a heartbreak; it was never a heartbreak. My heart hadn't been broken because how could it be broken if I never even let it. You know?"

"That's not how a lot of hearts are broken, Yn," Jun murmured with a sincere depth to his dark brown eyes. There was something so soulful about them. "Most are broken in silence."

You huffed slightly. "That was a great line."

"I know—"

"Ahem," Jihyo said, reigning the both of you drama geeks back into the realm of real talk. She leaned over to wrap her arms around you, her head resting on top of your own. "So you wrote this… to conquer your fears? To comprehend your feelings?"

"To imagine, to wish, to dream," you added. It was quite sad, really. You couldn't quite think of writing anything else when the time had come to start drafting your thesis. "We write what we know best."

"I thought Hyunjae was basically there throughout this whole process," Jun said, his elbows resting on top of the table as he gestured vaguely. "How has he not figured out that Alex is him?"

You gave a shrug. You couldn't imagine how he hadn't yet figured it out, but it wasn't exactly the most obvious thing. You would soon rather go missing than Hyunjae ever figuring out the truth behind the play's inspiration. Whenever he asked you, it was always "I was so inspired by Kenneth Branuagh and Emma Thompson's rendition of the play" and "I wanted to spice up an old, timeless play and give it a kick of Today". He believed that you were writing a play based solely upon the themes of childhood manipulation, academic pressure, and miscommunication. And you were—just not only those things.

Your thesis would have never been accepted if you'd only presented a skeleton of a play about your nonexistent love life. All of the additions and embellishments to the story had come easy as you pieced together the plotline. But the two main characters had never changed.

With that now settled, the food arrived at your table. (What a brilliantly timed, cosmic coincidence!) You and your friends thought it best to move onto other topics of conversation. Somehow, you had reached the topic of your recent week of weird feelings. Not just about Hyunjae, but about the strange feeling of constantly not being alone. You'd even explained the entire debacle from last night, with Hyunjae scaring you then rushing you home.

Jihyo and Jun both replied appropriately: "Girl, what the fuck?"

You brushed it off with a nonchalance that was not convincing. (Then again, you were never an actress yourself.)

The rest of dinner progressed relatively smoothly, and when the check had come and gone, you wanted to offer a mint to your friends.

"—shit," you swore as you dug around in your bag. When your hand came up empty-handed, you brushed that same hand through your hair. "I left my Altoids in the theater."

Jihyo finished signing her bill, tucking her card away. "Oh? Well, let's go get them."

Jun bobbed his head as he shouldered his coat on. "Yeah, it's no problem, Yn-ie."

"Really? You guys don't have to; they're just min—"

"Nonsense!" Jihyo chirped. She stood up and out of the booth, giving you the space to slip out after her. She then linked your arm with hers, then hooked her other with Jun's. "Power in numbers, my love."

You could do nothing but agree—wholeheartedly. The way your heart rate slowed when she insisted that she and Jun would accompany you showed just how grateful you were. You probably wouldn't have even gone to retrieve them tonight, but waited until Monday instead. They were just mints, after all, but you were appreciative nonetheless. Even for a small item, they would be by your side.

The journey back to the theater was a brief one as Jun drove the three of you back to the performing arts center and pulled into the space right by the stairs up to the hall. You recalled leaving them on one of the dressing room tables in the back corridors, so you used your student ID to buzz into the back hallway of the performing arts building.

You and your friends' voices hushed as you all crept into the dark, abandoned building. When the door closed behind you all, you turned your phone flashlight on to guide your way toward the dressing rooms.

"It should be in one of these rooms," you told your friends as you entered the hallway of doors. You located a familiar number and pushed into the room, swiftly retrieving the teal-colored metal box of minty sweets on the vanity table.

The door closed softly when you slipped out.

"Hey, how's YH!Yn's fountain project coming along?" Jun asked as the three of you began to make your way back toward the back door.

"Oh yeah!" Jihyo perked up. "How's that going? She's so badass for that."

"Isn't she?" You gushed. "Do you guys wanna see her progress?"

There was an obvious answer to that, and the three of you made a hard one hundred eighty degree turn, swerving back down the corridor from which you had just come from. Your conspiratorial giggles echoed within the rafters and bowels of the theater, as if you were pixies from A Midsummer Night's Dream, frolicking through the forest in which they dwelled.

When you reached the vicinity of the backstage area, your footsteps faltered.

It was still dark.

You frowned, slowly stepping into the backstage area.

"Yn? What's wrong?"

Jun said it before you could, "Huh. The ghost light's not on."

Indeed, the bulb that was supposed to be on when no light was, was pitch black. A cool breeze drifted down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck and your arms stand up.

"Could Jihoon or Chan have forgotten on their way out?"

"You know Jihoon's not one to forget."

You drifted away from your friends as you slowly stepped into the backstage area. Your flashlight shone toward the walls first as you aimed to make your way toward the lights panel. It would be an easy fix—

Your heart dropped clean into the pit of your stomach.

The light of your flashlight illuminated the absolute chaos.

Setting and backdrop pieces that had been painted by volunteers, articles of clothing collected for people's costumes, scripts left behind torn out of their staples—all of it was flung about and scattered over the backstage floor. It was like a tornado had swept through the area, and you knew your friends were seeing what you were seeing now.

You held your breath for so long you were pretty sure you were imagining the hands shaking you.

Somebody had come in and took their rage out on your play. But who, and more importantly, why?

EPISODE SIX: PHANTOM OF THE PERFORMING ARTS HALL

"WHAT'S up with the ghost light anyway?"

There was a group of you gathered by the stage of the performing arts hall, the house lights having been turned on after you'd made a call to Jihoon and campus security. Along with Jihoon and campus security, however, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Eric, and Younghoon had also appeared. You had shot Hyunjae a text about what had happened and he'd rushed over with his friends—you felt awful about pulling them away from whatever they were doing, but Hyunjae didn't say anything about it.

You sat on the edge of the stage next to Jihyo with Jun and Hyunjae standing by you both on the floor of the auditorium. Well, Hyunjae stood in front of you and you leaned your chin on top of his beanie-covered head while the lot of you waited for whatever security pulled up from the limited amount of cameras. Jihoon had disappeared somewhere to make a call—you would hear from him, too, soon.

The question had been posed by Juyeon, who sat next to Eric and Younghoon in the first row of nosebleeds.

Jun dragged a hand down the side of his face, then rubbed his mouth. "Ah, it's uhm, old theater superstition," he replied. "Usually, backstage crew leaves the ghost light on so anybody coming in doesn't trip on anything or accidentally get hurt or, y'know—break anything."

"It couldn't have just gone out because of the power then?" Hyunjae asked.

Younghoon shook his head. "Usually it runs on the same electricity that every other light runs on. I've never been in a theater where the ghost light just randomly goes out, and there weren't any power outages today either."

"The problem isn't even about the ghost light," you said. Everyone's eyes flickered over to you and Hyunjae. Hyunjae patted one of the legs you had on either side of his upper body as a means of consolation or comfort. "It's about the props and costumes. We're just lucky that they were just scattered and not properly damaged. We would've been set back another week at least."

Eric perked up. "Maybe it's the ghost of Shakespeare haunting the hall!"

A snort fell from your lips as you mused, "Shakespeare in the park?"

Hyunjae cleared his throat as he prepared his best rendition of the Iron Man line: "Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?"

As the two of you shared a giggle and fistbump, the other remaining members of your party sent you strange, confused looks.

Younghoon gave an eye roll. "Oh dear god, you two really are meant for each other."

You caught Jun and Jihyo whip their heads toward you, but before anything else could be said, Jihoon was hustling back into the auditorium from the lobby doors in the back. He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he jogged over to where all of you were gathered, those signature bags under his eyes prominently featured. Oh, you definitely felt terrible.

"What'd they say, Jihoon?" Jihyo asked first.

Jihoon tucked his hands into his pockets as he joined the loose cult circle. "Security found that the locks on the front of the hall were picked open, so they wouldn't have gotten a record of somebody's card being used. Cams picked up someone dressed in black, but they knew where the camera would have gotten a clear shot of them. But because there wasn't anything officially damaged, there isn't much legal action we can take."

Juyeon offered quietly, "Breaking and entering."

Jihoon gestured to him. "Right. Breaking and entering, but that's about it." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "It wasn't just a prank or whatever. At least, I don't think so. What do you think, Yn?"

You swallowed, straightening slightly. "I don't think so either. I mean, I don't think any drunk pranksters would go through the trouble of picking open a lock. Even a sober one."

"Maybe a spiteful classmate," Jun suggested with a meager shrug. "Some people are ruthless."

"If there isn't much we can do, or much security is willing to do," you muttered, "then we should call it a night. We just have to take pains to lock everything up every rehearsal now."

Jihoon nodded sharply. "Right. Pains, but necessary ones."

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Eric frowned. A murmur of agreement echoed from everyone else in the group.

You pursed your lips. "It's okay, I—it's not okay, obviously, but I'm glad no one's hard work was properly destroyed. That's all that matters." Even if your nerves were a little shaken. Who could have done this?

The remainder of your time spent in the theater was picking everything up and putting them in their rightful places. By the time the group of you had finished locking everything up, the night had slipped away into its proper depths. Everyone was ready to get the hell out of here and go home to their beds, and Jihoon was certain to show you the ghost light being turned and sustaining for at least a couple minutes before the two of you were the last out.

Juyeon, Eric, Younghoon, and Jihoon said their goodnights and goodbyes, already departing their separate ways to go home. You lifted your head up to find where Jihyo and Jun were waiting for you when you saw Hyunjae standing closer to the entryway of the hall. He gave you a sleepy smile, opening up his arms for you to walk right into.

"Tired?" He chuckled, the sound creating a soft vibration in his chest as you shoved your face into his pretty-smelling sweater.

"Mm," you grunted. "You didn't go home with Younghoon?"

"Nah. I wanna go home with you."

In any other context, in any other situation, that would have meant something completely different. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around his frame. With a nod, you screwed your eyes shut and swept away those wistful thoughts. "Okay, fine."

You didn't know why you kept doing this to yourself. But he was your best friend, and tonight was… a lot. A friendly sleepover was something you needed—at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

— ✶

Being the oh-so courteous guest he was (especially since he practically invited himself over), Hyunjae let you take the shower first. You shared a townhouse a bus ride away from the university campus with two others whom you knew from rooming with them your first year of college. You had lucked out with the random roommate assignments that year, and the three of you weren't the closest nor best of friends, but you found great housemates in each other, which was just as valuable.

You had your own room and ensuite up on the topmost floor, so you and Hyunjae had a bit of privacy and wouldn't bother your friends below. You had finished with your shower a bit ago, so you were settled on your bed, flipping through emails and ensuring no important ones had ended up in the spam folder.

When you heard the door open from the bathroom, you glanced up, but returned your gaze back to this one email about a sponsorship that needed to be added to the playbill later.

"I accidentally grabbed the wrong shirt."

You hummed in question as you quickly forwarded the email to Jihyo, then looked up. A laugh sputtered out of your mouth as you took in Hyunjae taking up the space of your doorway. He was in a pair of his own sweatpants that he often left here, but instead of one of his t-shirts, he must have accidentally grabbed one of your tops. It was a Hello Kitty one you'd found in the back of your closet awhile ago, and fit you pretty nicely, so it looked strained on Hyunjae.

You flopped onto the bed, rolling around in your own laughter. "Jae!—your tits don't fit in that, honey."

Hyunjae's mouth stretched into a grin, his tongue darting out for a second. His dirty blond hair, damp and curly, hung slightly in his eyes over his forehead. "Oh, shut up."

To your detriment (you deserved this, you really did), he then smiled (more like, smirked) as he casually lifted the top over his head.

Your eyes widened just as your entire body lit up on fire. "Hey, woah there! Dude!" You jokingly covered your eyes—your whole face—with your hands as he flicked the shirt off, straightened it out, then stalked over to your closet to swap tops.

Hyunjae rolled his eyes as he ripped another shirt from a hanger and came to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "You've seen me shirtless before, Yn. Calm down."

No. How could you just calm down—? It was nearly impossible when you saw the way the muscles in his back rippled as he yanked the new, white T-shirt over his head. With muted sadness, you watched as the toned muscle on his stomach disappeared beneath the fabric.

Damn.

"You're drooling."

Your eyes darted up to where he was grinning down at his phone screen now, only looking at you from his periphery where you were still lying on the bed.

You huffed, rising onto your knees and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day. But you subtly swiped your thumb across your lower lip to make sure you weren't actually drooling. This is your best friend, Yn; control yourself. "Loser."

"Child."

"Chicken."

"Weirdo."

"Nerd!" You shot back, making him laugh as you draped yourself over his back and tucked his head under your chin. His wet, cold hair tickled your skin, but it was a welcome sensation.

You peered down at his phone with him from your perch. "Who's that?" You asked as he opened up a new text notification from a new number.

You were scanning the message the sender had texted while Hyunjae huffed. "Another of your suitors, milady," he drawled sarcastically.

The message said something like "would she be interested?", the "she" referring to you.

Hyunjae typed out: In you? Probably not.

You let out a gasp, hitting him playfully on the (muscle of his) shoulder. "Hyunjae!"

He snickered, exiting out of the text chain, then deleting the number. "What? I'm just being honest. I feel like every dude who's interested in you goes through me to ask and it's so lame."

You absentmindedly watched as he opened up Instagram and started brainlessly doom-scrolling. "Maybe it's 'cause you've so clearly friendzoned me," you muttered incoherently under your breath.

"Huh? What was that?"

"Maybe it's 'cause they see you as the gatekeeper," you amended, leaving him to climb off your bed and step into the bathroom to prepare your toothbrush for use.

You could hear the incredulity in his voice. "Gatekeeper? Pfft, no way. They're all just cowards; they don't deserve you if they can't ask you out to your face." After a second, he added, "Hey, I don't gatekeep you!"

You made a face at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth. "Uh-huh."

"That's not reassuring, Yn-ie."

You poked your head out of the bathroom and made eye contact with where he had rearranged his position so he sat up against the headboard. "I was just agreeing with you," you teased, then retreated back into the bathroom to finish up your night routine.

"No, you weren't, you menace."

You flicked the lights in the bathroom and bedroom off and rolled onto the bed next to him. The two of you laid facing each other in the dark, your bodies kept to your own sides of the bed and blanket. You both were propped onto your sides, one arm tucked beneath your head.

"I don't gatekeep you," he said into the silence, his voice lowering to match the volume of darkness. He poked your cheek with a finger, as if he could stamp the declaration there.

You gave a small smile. "Okay, Jae." A thought suddenly occurred to you as you broke your stare-down to twist around and grab your phone from the nightstand to see if Jihyo and Jun had said something to the group chat. "Oh, by the way, did you ever figure out what Ellie wanted?"

Hyunjae shifted so he was on his back now, one hand still braced behind his head and the other resting on his stomach—but his eyes still watched you. "Something about a random high school project from senior year. She couldn't find the file for it and wanted to draw inspiration from it or something."

"I didn't know you had a project with her in senior year," you said offhandedly, shutting your phone off and replacing it onto the nightstand. You sighed, slipping further beneath the covers and closer to Hyunjae.

He drew you close, tucking you beneath his chin this time. "Yeah, it wasn't really important. Nothing to worry about."

"I wasn't worrying."

You could already feel yourself drifting off into dreamland, the exhaustion in your eyes making your eyelids close like valance curtains at the very front, lowering to mask the backstage magic from the audience. Except, the magic were your thoughts rocketing into the realm of the fictional. For a split second, you thought about somebody being in your position with your best friend one day. Would it hurt to think about then as much as it did now?

You couldn't exactly think about that future right now. Hyunjae, you liked to think, was far from letting anyone new into his carefully-maintained walls. He had been hurt by people before, and you'd be damned if you didn't protect him from that ever happening again.

You thought Hyunjae had fallen asleep until you felt his thumb brush against the back of your shoulder. "When have I ever friend-zoned you?"

Your heart stuttered in your chest for a moment, but it wasn't enough to wake you up completely. As you drifted off fully, you convinced yourself that you had imagined him saying that. You were both awfully tired, anyway.

EPISODE SEVEN: OH SHIT, WAS MY MIC ON?

TWO whirlwind weeks had flown by. You could hardly even soak in the moments of this last undergraduate project before it all began to blur together. The only ways you were able to properly tell time were crossing out calendar dates and—

“Oh my god, oh my god! Get it out, get it out!”

You, along with everyone present in the main auditorium of the performing arts hall, came to a screeching halt as a flurry of squeals erupted from somewhere deep backstage. You and the conductor of the pit orchestra exchanged concerned expressions before you were making a beeline for the fastest access point backstage. Younghoon and Eunwoo were swift to accompany you, and though you had a sinking feeling you knew what this was, you held your grimace for when you confirmed your suspicions.

Over the past couple of weeks, the feeling of being watched had not faded from the back of your mind. You tried to adjust rehearsal schedules so that they were a little earlier in the evening, but people had lives and you simply could not inconvenience them based on someone trying to scare you. Plus, with the spring season flying in swiftly, the sun retired a lot later, which gave you some peace of mind, at least.

But over that same time, the person meddling with your show had ceased to cease. One day it was sky blue fabric strewn all over the main stage; another day it was peacock feathers left in the projection box; there were cables missing from tech, headsets changed to radio channels. Somebody was clearly pulling out all the stops to ensure that this theater and production was full of old theater superstitions and bad luck, either to scare you or the people you were working with (or both), and frankly—it was working. To an extent.

You stormed into the back corridor of the performing arts hall, the supporting cast and tech crew all sprinkled about the hallway, anxiously watching you and your friends pass by them toward one of the larger dressing rooms.

“What is going on?” You demanded as you entered the dressing room. There was a small gathering of people gawking at something—the dressing room vanity mirror. The breath left your lungs at the sight.

The surface of the mirror was vandalized, the infamous word “Macbeth” scrawled all over its reflective plane in red lipstick. Some of the product had begun to melt from the heat of the lightbulbs around the mirror and dripped down the mirror like blood. It would have been a comical prank if this wasn’t a theater. You felt a stiff, cool breeze run across your skin.

Somebody was really trying to fuck you over, huh.

You shoved down a swallow. “Somebody get me some Windex,” you croaked. When nobody moved, you repeated yourself, forcing a bit more strength into your voice.

Chan appeared in the room, his own eyes pinned to the subject matter upon the mirror, as he handed you a bottle of Windex and an old rag.

You snatched it out of his hands with a “thank you”, then marched up to the mirror. With shaky hands, you began scrubbing away at the word written over and over on the mirror. You heard Chan corral everyone out of the dressing room and back to their original activities. All your senses had dulled by now, and you felt Younghoon gently pry the rag from your hands so he could reach the spaces that you couldn’t.

“Who is doing this?” You voiced to the now sparsely populated dressing room. You sat in one of the dressing room chairs with your hand pressed to your forehead with Younghoon, Chan, and Jihoon present. Eunwoo had gone out to calm people down, but you knew that this was going to draw a line for some people. It was a known superstition not to utter the name of the notorious Scottish Play in a theater, and it had just been named about a couple dozen times on the mirror behind you.

Your friends could offer no suggestions.

Your pride took an even bigger hit when you decided to cut the remainder of rehearsal for the day; you were certain there were at least a handful of people who were scandalized by what just happened.

“Are you okay, though?” Younghoon asked you for the third time as the two of you watched people leave the performing arts hall from the base of the nosebleeds. “I know that you’re not usually so… swayed by superstition.”

You could only give a stiff shrug. “I’m not,” you agreed, “but this is going to be the biggest project and production of my undergrad career. I don’t—I can’t take any chances.” You smoothed a hand over one half of your face. “God, I’m just tired, Hoon. I’m so stressed, and cutting rehearsal short today—we’re gonna be set back another day—”

“Hey,” he soothed, grasping you by the shoulders so you would look him in the eye. He offered a kind smile, “You’re doing great, Yn. I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under right now for this to go perfectly, but I think you have to have a little faith in all of us, including yourself. One rehearsal is not going to make a difference in the long run. We’ve got a lot of talented, hard-working people who will sleep this mishap off and come right back to make up for lost time.”

He squeezed your shoulder. “And whoever’s been doing this? They’ll get their due karma.”

You let his words soak into your brain. You needed this; you needed those words said to you. With a nod, you and Younghoon deigned to head out with everyone else. Jihoon and Chan were swift to shut the theater down for the evening, as well.

As you and Younghoon stepped out into the early evening, the sky still glowed a buttery yellow swirled in purpley-blue. There was another breeze wafting by, but instead of the chills you got before, it was slightly warmer and made you inhale deeply. The air out here made your lungs less constricted, you realized, and maybe you’d been stuck in that theater for too long lately. This would be good for you, as well as everyone else.

“I think me and some of the cast are gonna get together to go over some scenes at the grove,” said Younghoon as he peered down at his phone screen. “Wanna come with?”

You brushed a strand of hair from your face, a decision coming to surface. “Nah, I think I’m gonna take a walk. Get some fresh air.”

Younghoon passed you a brilliant-sort of smile that gleamed in the golden hour light. “Alrighty, director. Sounds good. Have a good night then, Yn-ie.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for today, Hoon.”

You and Younghoon parted ways there, and while he traveled down the stairs toward east campus, you traveled northward toward the quad. The quad, a place most known for the cherry blossom trees that bloomed in the early spring, was no doubt full of people taking late afternoon strolls in the temperate spring climate. It was the perfect environment for you to relax and let some of the stress and pressure fade from your pulsing temples.

There were no longer cherry blossom flowers blooming upon the dark branches, but healthy, dark green leaves. Even if they were shades of pink, they were still beautiful nonetheless.

After making a full loop around the quad lawn’s perimeter, you made a detour down one of the side pathways that were lined in trees that yawned toward its partner on the other side of the pathway. It was noticeably quieter and less populated here, and for once, you actually didn’t feel like you were being watched.

You were walking for only a few minutes in the serenity when you saw a pair of people standing in a clearing of trees just to your two o'clock. You stopped, a familiar blond haired best friend catching your eyes.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Was what you heard from Hyunjae, and you almost marched right up to them to defend him.

That was, until you saw the girl's face.

You hadn't recognized her at first because she had her back facing you and she had changed her hair. But it wasn't difficult to recognize your old friend, Ellie, the one who Hyunjae said had contacted her. Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. Why were they together right now? You thought Hyunjae had said weeks ago that she was just trying to get ahold of an old project they'd done together in high school.

Ellie placed her hands on her hips, her facial expression stony and unreadable. "Can you think rationally for a second and listen to me all the way through? That's what you agreed to when you said you'd meet me."

Huh?

You pressed your side against the nearest tree trunk, your heart thundering your eardrums.

When Hyunjae said nothing, Ellie continued, exhaling sharply, "Okay. As I was saying earlier, do you even know what the play's about? …No. Look at you; can't you see? You don't even know what it's really about."

"Of course, I know what it's about," Hyunjae sneered. "It's about how academic pressure and miscommunication can ruin relationships—"

Ellie laughed, the sound mirthful, and yet carried an air of malice that made your skin crawl. This wasn't the Ellie you remembered… "That's funny, oh my god! You really don't know what it's about."

"What are you going on about?"

"I think you should ask her," she said with a smile. You peered around the tree, feeling utterly stupid like one of those characters from a teen drama eavesdropping on their lover and their nemesis. "Ask her, Hyunjae. I'm sure she'll tell you what it's really about when you mention that I told you she st—"

"Yn?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Jihyo's voice from behind you. You quickly grabbed her and dragged her down behind the tree trunk next to you. When she sent you a look that told you she thought you were completely deranged, you pressed a finger to your lips.

She indulged you, thank god, and followed your lead as you crept around the tree trunk again.

"It's cute that you have so much trust in her," was what you heard Ellie say next.

Jihyo squinted as she tried to identify the girl. "Who the fuck…?"

You kept your eyes glued to the pair before you, but muttered to Jihyo quickly, "That's Ellie. Old friend of mine from high school, but we drifted apart. Haven't talked to her since."

"She and Hyunjae are friends?"

"No, I have no clue what's going on." Yet, your stomach twisted and churned and you felt bile crawl up the length of your throat.

A muscle feathered in Hyunjae's jaw, but he couldn't seem to get himself to say something.

Ellie looked upon him pitifully. "One day, she'll drop you, too—when she finds someone better. That's what she did to me, y'know? I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories."

You saw red.

This time, Jihyo had to grab a fist full of your shirt and yank you down next to her to prevent you from clawing Ellie's vocal chords clean out of her throat. Because you would have.

Anything—you would've done anything to never see the flash of shame, hurt, and anger across Hyunjae's face when she said that. It was like she'd slapped him, clean and hard. Your chest ached as you watched his hand tighten into a fist at his side.

"You don't know anything about me," he said icily.

And it was over all too soon. Ellie said something to Hyunjae, but it was too quiet to hear. When Ellie left her own way, Hyunjae stalked off in a different direction, leaving you and Jihyo where the two of you remained hunched behind the tree.

You made to get up, but Jihyo pulled you back down again. "Ji, I have to go make sure he's okay—"

"I know you do," she told you firmly while keeping you seated down next to her. "But you're not in the right headspace, and neither is he. You need to breathe, especially after today and whatever the hell that was."

When you sent her a questionable look, she explained, "I bumped into Sana on my way to the performing arts center and she told me what happened. Then Younghoon told me you went on a walk and I just tracked your phone to here."

Your jaw dropped. "You tracked my—"

"Shhh," she shushed you, pressing a finger against your lips. "That's besides the point! Are you okay, Yn? For real."

You leaned back onto your palms, a frown coming up to your lips. "Everyone keeps asking me that lately."

"It's a valid question."

That was fair, you supposed. You released a sigh. "I mean… not really? I'm just stressed, and I don't even know what to think or how to comprehend what we just witnessed." Your brain was buzzing with every one of Ellie's biting words. What had she meant by all of that? She sounded so bitter, so malicious… What had happened?

Jihyo pressed her lips together, sitting down properly onto the grass. "What was that? Did you and Ellie end on bad terms?"

Your brows creased together and you absentmindedly scratched your jaw. "No," you murmured. "Not that I remember. It was just like we drifted apart over time. At least, that's how I remember it. I dunno."

You blew out another breath of air. Ellie and you had both been really good at what you did—theater, writing, all of the works. You two were a dynamic duo; if people now claimed you were a prodigy, then Ellie was your twin. In a way, you could probably say that your characters from the play you wrote almost mimicked yours and Ellie's creative abilities and technical prowess, but just in different spheres. While the love story was based upon you and Hyunjae, the foundation had been from you and Ellie.

But it eventually faded, that friendship. You figured that was just how things worked, as unfortunate as it was. You both moved on, and you found Hyunjae.

You relayed all of this to Jihyo, your friend listening to your words intently.

"—but I've never carried any ill will toward her," you reiterated at the end of your spiel. "I truly haven't heard from her since and she hasn't reached out either. I don't know what could have caused her to tell Hyunjae all of that."

Jihyo pressed her mouth to her knuckles as a thoughtful frown graced her porcelain features. "Hm, yeah. It's curious, for sure. What were they saying before I got here?"

You gnawed on your top lip. "She kept insisting that he didn't know what the play was really about and that he should ask me."

"Huh."

"I know right." You carded a hand through your hair. "I'm screwed."

"Only if he actually works up the guts to ask," she countered. "Though, I think you should beat him to it."

You cocked your head to the side in question. "What do you mean?"

She lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "Y'know—like you have to confront him about meeting with Ellie. You can't keep this from him; I know you."

Yeah, she was right. It would eat at you if you let that guilt swirl in your stomach. Plus, all of those things Ellie had said to him… you hoped he was okay. Dear god, you hoped he was okay.

(But the question now, you supposed, was who would bring it up first?)

EPISODE EIGHT: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT SHE'S THE BO-BO-BO-BOSS

FUNNY story: it took a week before you and Hyunjae could even have a proper conversation, in person.

With the quarter well underway, there was little to no time to stop and smell the flowers anymore. This had now become a race toward graduation, meaning that everyone was focused on their own problems. The “pranks” had dulled down, but they were, by no means, completely gone. There were always the occasional cord missing, or that dreaded creaking noise in the wings on late nights.

You’d grown used to it by this point, and so had your peers, luckily. The conversation between Ellie and Hyunjae sat in the back of your mind at all times. You always knew it was there, but you had so many things to worry about. Act two was just about wrapping up though, and so, play progress was chugging along well on schedule.

You really did have nothing to worry about—maybe it had all been jitters. Maybe it would all just finally go smoothly.

Friday night rehearsal was a little slower tonight since everyone had been here since noon. You’d all practically spent the entire day together, having lunch first, then diving into proper rehearsal. It had been a rehearsal full of laughs and a good time, and by the time Hyunjae stepped foot into the performing arts hall, you felt that you could take on anything. Even the conversation that needed to take place.

“Hey, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?” He said as the two of you stepped into the privacy of the sound booth, the tails of laughter still lingering in the air from the scene he had come into. You were currently rehearsing the directions of the first scene of act three, where Younghoon’s character was going through a full-on “groom-zilla” mode while Eunwoo’s character couldn’t stop talking about Sana’s character. It had been a full one-eighty character swap between the two friends.

You licked your lips, trying to press your smile down a little. “Oh, yeah. I was taking a walk, like, a week ago—and I saw you and Ellie talking.” You figured it would be better to just air it out right away; there was no need to beat around the bush. You lowered yourself onto the edge of one of the tables inside the booth, the air turning stuffy from the insulation inside the box. Crossing your arms loosely over your front, you watched as Hyunjae’s mood shifted, his body shuffling as he sought a comfortable position against the wall by the door.

Hyunjae cleared his throat, head ducking as his hand cupped the back of his neck. “Oh, really? You saw that?”

“I heard what she said to you—”

His head whipped up at that.

“—and I can’t believe she said that,” you said, those dagger-sharp words echoing in your mind from what Ellie had said to him about his own character. “Are you… are you okay?”

Hyunjae’s eyes widened a millimeter. “Am—am I okay?” He stammered.

“Yeah, I mean, she said that you were awful and it was…” You shook your head with a haggard sigh. “I’m sorry she said all that to you.”

“Thanks,” he exhaled, peering over at you through his eyelashes. He looked so small for once. “I—” He huffed air out from his nostrils, leaning his head back against the wall as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. “Is that all you heard though?”

No, I also heard her insist you ask me what the play is about. You blinked, your own voice seemingly trapped in your throat. Why couldn’t you just own up to it?

But he must have taken your silence as you saying that you hadn’t heard anything else, so he gathered his wits to ask you, “Yn, what’s the play really about?”

The breath left your lungs. “You know what it’s about, Jae. You were there while I wrote it.” Please don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it. Because a part of you knew that if he pushed, you would give. You would tell him because… how could you not? If he wanted you to be honest with him, then… oh god, would you really? Would you risk this little secret of yours and ruin a friendship? Either way—it could go either way.

His tongue darted out for a moment as he carded a hand through his hair; he took a couple steps toward you. “I know, Yn. But—Ellie kept on insisting that I ask you what the real idea behind the play is. And she—and she,” he laughed, the sound disbelieving, “she said that you stole the idea from her, which is crazy! I know it’s crazy, because I watched you labor over this thing for months.”

She what? All thoughts except for one left your brain at that moment: why in the world would Ellie tell Hyunjae that you stole the idea for Jasmine from her? You didn’t remember ever seeing this kind of work from her before. “I didn’t steal anything from her.”

“I know,” he replied again, placating you. He now stood right in front of you, but your eyes raced back and forth about a mile a minute as you mentally went through the things you remember ever writing with her. You couldn’t remember; you couldn’t think. Why would she say that? “So I just wanted to ask,” he said slowly, his words drawn out as he leaned down slightly so you would look him in the eyes, “what is the play really about? The real meaning.”

There were pros and cons to telling him. On the one hand, you could spew the same surface-level bullshit that you usually did, but you had a feeling that one wouldn’t work this time. On the other hand, you could tell him—the truth. That was the worst pill to swallow. It could end in utter catastrophe or it could end in your wildest dreams. But what if, when he didn’t feel the same about you, had to let you down easy and your friendship would never be the same ever again? You couldn’t bear losing him, you just couldn’t. You loved Hyunjae…

“Yn, you’re scaring me,” he said with an anxious laugh.

You met his eyes then. “You don’t trust me?” You blurted before you could stop yourself. Those words, that tone… it sounded to you like he really was starting to believe what Ellie told him.

Something flashed across his face, and he was racing to defend himself. “What? No, of course I trust you. I just—I just want to know what the real meaning behind the play was about; that’s all!” And if you can’t tell me, then what else am I supposed to believe? “Yn, come on, honey—please—”

“It’s about you.”

All breath left him. You saw the way one hundred and one emotions flickered through his eyes; all of thoughts racing about at once as he tried to comprehend. “What? I don’t—I don’t understand.”

You balled your hands into fists in front of you as the frustration suddenly bubbled to the surface. “I wrote it about us, Hyunjae,” you told him. “Alex is based on you, Kai is based on me. I’ve been in love with you since junior year of high school, and that is what the true premise of the play is about.” Your hands were shaking now, gesturing between the two of you in stiff, constrained motions like the feeling of your chest’s range of movements at this time.

You watched it dawn on him, watched him swallow—hard. “Yn, I’m sorry—”

“Jaehyun.”

He shut up immediately.

You pressed your fingers to the space between your eyes. For a second, you swore you could feel tears tickle the insides of your eyes, and you blinked them away, inhaling deeply to get your body to calm the fuck down. Why were you crying? There was no reason to be crying right now. “Can you—” you stumbled over your words for once, “—can you give me some space. I can’t… I can’t think.”

He obliged you, backing up a few steps, and you said fuck it. “Hyunjae, I need space. Please.”

You thought you saw hurt flash across his face, but you just wanted to be out of his eyesight. You couldn’t bear to feel those soft, sympathetic eyes on you. You couldn’t bear the weight of his “I’m sorry I don’t feel the same” right now.

“Okay,” he said, though barely audible.

It took a minute, but he left and you were finally able to suck in a large gulp of air. You strode out of the sound box and realized that everyone on stage was either looking your way, or had quickly turned their heads to pretend they hadn’t just seen that silent argument take place through the sound box window.

Your face and neck were on fire, but you swallowed your pride and returned to your rightful place in the middle aisles of the floor seats. You picked up your script from where you’d abandoned it by your bag. “Right,” you said, your voice shaky until you cleared your throat. (Your hands were definitely still a bit wobbly, but that wasn’t your greatest concern right now.) “Where were we? Scene one, right?”

Everyone slowly began making their way back to their original positions, but Younghoon walked up to the bottom stage and lowered his voice to say, “Yn, we can take a break if you need one. Take five, then reconvene.”

He probably knew what just went down in the sound box. Yet, you found yourself shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you assured him, un-reassuringly. “I can do this, Hoon.”

He frowned at you then—those damn, soulful eyes—but nodded, respecting your decision. Like everyone else, he returned to the original position his character was in at the top of the scene.

I’m sorry, his voice seemed to echo in your ears. A part of you ached at the thought of that stark hurt on his face, but you were hurting, too. Why would you send him away like that?

You blinked, your head clearing. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see it.”

— ✶

A few hours later, you finally had everyone wrap up for the night.

“Thanks for all your hard work today!” You exclaimed as the actors and techies began swarming the stage to put props away. You climbed up to the stage, too, jumping onto one of the backdrops that Younghoon was wheeling backstage to help him direct it through the heavy folds of the backdrop curtain.

Younghoon shot you a smile from the other side of the prop. “Well, Miss Director, nice work today.”

You returned the expression wholeheartedly. “Thanks, man. The same goes to you; I appreciate all your hard work today. And that idea for the wedding sequence was absolutely brilliant.”

He chuckled at that, and the two of you worked together to slot the prop onto the cart with the rest of the ones that were just like it. A couple of stagehands then moved the assembly line along and rolled the cart down the hall to lock up in one of the dressing rooms. “I like to think I’ve been to enough weddings at this point to know how to spice them up.”

“Ah, that’s right,” you mused along with him as the two of you began walking down the backstage corridor to where you knew his partner was hard at work with that miraculous fountain. “I remember something about yours and YH!Yn’s first proper outing being to your cousin’s wedding?”

Younghoon threw his head back with a hearty chuckle at that. “Your memory serves you correctly then,” he confirmed. “Well, it wasn’t our first proper outing together. Technically, we met at an outing—”

“What do you think they were arguing about? It looked like they broke up or something.”

The line caught you off guard, and your footsteps faltered. Younghoon gave you a confused look, eyebrow arched. Your ears strained to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in one of the open dressing rooms you just passed by.

“No way that they were dating! … okay, I guess that would make sense why she put up with him all the time,” a second voice scoffed. “Maybe she finally got tired of his bullshit and cut him off.”

“That would make sense as to why he got out of the theater so fast. I went to their high school, and even after Hyunjae left, the year above me still talked about him—”

Your hand slammed against the doorframe of the dressing room, effectively making the two stagehands inside jump in surprise. They gaped at you with wide eyes, lips parted in shock as you addressed them with a carefully-made blank expression. “Let’s not go sticking our noses where they aren’t appreciated, yeah? Worry about yourselves, thanks.”

The two bowed their heads, apologies crawling from their mouths, and you turned back into the hallway where Younghoon was waiting for you.

You resumed your walk down the hall, and your friend casted you a side-long glance. “Thanks for standing up for him like you do,” he said to you. “I don’t know what happened today, but…”

“It doesn’t matter what happened today,” you said to Younghoon with a small exhale. You gave him a smile, even though you knew it wasn’t convincing. “I’ll always stand up for him.”

“Even when he doesn’t deserve it?” Younghoon joked with a laugh.

Your smile curled a little wider. “Even when he doesn’t deserve it.” In reality, you knew that he deserved to have someone stand up for him. Whether that be you, or Younghoon, or even Jihoon—you knew that everyone deserved to have someone watch their back when they weren’t around. You might have pushed him away earlier this evening, but that would never stop you from continuing to protect him. It was simple, really; you loved him.

EPISODE NINE: ARE DRAMA MAJORS ALWAYS SO DRAMATIC? WAIT, DON’T ANSWER THAT.

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have done this in the grocery store like you guys always do,” Hyunjae grumbled as sounds of livelihood raged all around him: pots and pans clanged to the sizzle of food on the stove, the TV played some random American murder mystery show on low volume, and Hyunjae was sandwiched in between two others on his and Younghoon’s apartment couch.

Chanhee, who sat on the other side of Juyeon (who was on one side of Hyunjae), snorted. His nose was in his phone as he scrolled through Instagram, but didn’t look up as he replied, “As if we’d let you into Grocery Aisle Therapy. That’s exclusive admission.”

“That’s true,” Jacob chimed in from Hyunjae’s other side, as the man spooned a generous helping of Frosted Flakes into his mouth, “I tried.”

“And if even Jacob was denied entry,” Sangyeon mused from the kitchen as he turned off the stove and hood range, carrying over a bowl of the fried rice he had made for himself. Haknyeon skipped behind him with his own bowl and his cheeks were already full of the delicious food. Eric and Sunwoo were swift to follow their friend’s lead and raced into the kitchen to get a helping for themselves.

Changmin made a face from where he sat on the floor below Chanhee and Younghoon. “Not for lack of trying. You should’ve seen JC!Yn try to resist his goo-goo eyes. Bleh,” he gagged.

“I admire her tenacity then,” Hyunjae sniffed. “Not everyone can resist Jacob.”

Jacob beamed.

Kevin narrowed his eyes at Changmin. He sat just a few spaces away from the glasses-wearing menace, but carefully cross-legged and cradling a bowl of popcorn in his hands. “You say that when you literally pined after your girlfriend like an angsty teenager for three years.” He feigned a face of contemplation, then added, “Oh wait, you actually are an angsty teen—aye! Dad, Changmin hit me!”

“I am so sick of this family,” Sangyeon mumbled under his breath as he collapsed into the armchair adjacent to the sofa-sectional everyone else flocked upon. “Enough, both of you. Why were we all called here, again?”

Eric slid back into the living room on the polished wood floors in his socks, then perched atop the arm of Sangyeon’s armchair as he feasted upon his bowl of fried rice. He carefully lowered each spoonful of rice into his mouth so he wouldn’t dirty the fluffy cardigan he now wore. "Hyung's in trouble with his lady lover."

“Lady lover?” Sunwoo echoed with his face scrunched up like he just ate something sour. He had taken the spot between Kevin and Changmin to hopefully stop one from kicking the other again (hopefully).

"You're so judgmental."

"And you're—"

Sangyeon massaged the migraine pulsing in his temples away furiously with a clear grimace. "Shush, children. What did you do this time, Hyunjae?"

Hyunjae's jaw dropped, an image akin to one particular Pikachu meme. "Why am I immediately assumed to be the one at fault?"

"You summoned us all here," Haknyeon said with a shrug. "And Younghoon hyung said that it looked like you and Yn-ie suffered a break up in front of the entire main cast of Jasmine."

Hyunjae threw a displeased glance Younghoon's way; the tall man grinned sheepishly as if saying "what was I supposed to do—lie?" Hyunjae stared down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers and the watch on his wrist. "It wasn't a break up…"

Kevin made a disapproving noise. "Oh, we know."

Hyunjae glared down at the top of Kevin's head. "Rude."

"Okay, so explain what happened," Juyeon prompted.

The man in question sucked in a breath. Where to begin? Someone muted the TV, so Hyunjae and Younghoon's apartment descended into a coat of silence. Everyone waited for Hyunjae's response.

Hyunjae decided that there was only one logical way to start. He began when he first received a text message from the elusive 'Ellie', your supposed best friend before him. He couldn't believe you had a soulmate other than him, but it only mattered that you two had found each other—not that that mattered—

He went through the entire spiel: Ellie had texted him about some project they worked on together in senior year of high school. He hadn't known why she would even care about something dumb they'd done in high school especially when she was a fourth year in college like the rest of you. But she had asked politely and he wasn't one to just dismiss someone when it was a simple, innocent request. However, when he had finished with this little task, he should have stopped there.

Their conversations eventually escalated from innocent "oh, you remember when…" to "if we meet, you have to agree to hear my side of the argument." He remembered her exact words: "You'll be very shocked to hear the truth" regarding your business with the play. He wanted to look out for you like you always did for him (and screw it, he was curious), so he obliged Ellie and met with her.

That had been one of many mistakes he made. The biggest mistake was what went down at the theater a couple of days ago. And now? He had just made you confess to him, he had broken your trust, and he didn't know how he was going to make it up to you.

(He had to admit though, that once he finally got space to think about what you said to him, there was something about the prospect of you being in love with him that gave his heart a lively kick-start—)

Chanhee reached over Juyeon's head and swatted Hyunjae's neck like there was a very large mosquito there. "You dumbass!"

Hyunjae yelped, his hand reaching up to rub the aching place furiously. "Ow!"

"Deserved," Kevin sang as he tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "That was super not cool, man."

"You don't think I know that?" He rolled his eyes.

"Yes," everyone chorused together.

Cue his next set of eye rolls.

"Hyung," said Sunwoo as he shifted so he faced Hyunjae. His eyes squinted up at him, his curly bangs falling into his pupils as they usually did. "How could you not see that she was in love with you? You have to be blinder than a bat."

"You've been hanging out with SW!Yn too much," Changmin teased.

"Hey, don't bring her into this and taint her good name! Even she saw how perfectly enraptured Yn-ie is."

Changmin opened his mouth to make another unnecessary comment, but Sunwoo slapped a palm over his friend's mouth.

"I guess that leaves one question," said Juyeon, finally, after a long stretch of his silence.

"And what's that, Juyeonie?" Sangyeon asked.

Juyeon pursed his lips together in a slight pout. "What else? Are you in love with Yn, too, Hyunjae?"

Oh—

Hyunjae's thoughts careened to a stop when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He maneuvered around on the couch cushion to retrieve the device, his heart pounding in anticipation—but that emotion was immediately swapped out with utter disdain.

His friends observed this flip with great interest. "Who—"

An indignant spark lit Hyunjae's dark irises as he furiously typed something to the sender and promptly blocked the number.

Jacob and Juyeon, who were able to peer over at Hyunjae's phone screen, both widened their eyes in scandal. Jacob grinned, lifting his hand to delicately hide his snickers. "Well that answers our question."

Hyunjae sulked, swiping through his contacts, then blocking Ellie's number, too. He should have done that so damn long ago.

"It was some guy asking if he knew if Yn was free in two weeks—"

"And she's not," Hyunjae grunted, shoving his phone back into his pocket, then standing up to go get Sangyeon's fried rice in the kitchen. "These fucking guys, man. Like, what the fuck am I gonna do? Hype you up to her? No way in hell—" He scoffed, slapping a spatula of rice into his bowl with a strength that the bowl, rice, and utensil didn't deserve.

He couldn't believe that one stupid, little thing the two of you had done in freshman year of college had led to this spam of dudes flooding his inbox for you. If he had half a mind, he would declare that you weren't on the market anymore and that you weren't even interested in seeing any… body…

The thought marinated in his head for a moment as he slowly chewed the fried rice. Why did he want you "off the market"? You were his best friend, but you weren't his to covet or shield or speak for. You weren't his.

You weren't… his.

"Oh my god, you can actually see the neurons firing in his brain for once."

Hyunjae plopped himself back into his original place on the couch. "I hate you guys."

"So you've realized that you're in love with her?" Younghoon asked exasperatedly, his hands splayed out on his legs like he was begging to the cosmos.

Hyunjae made a face and pretended that his heart wasn't palpitating and that a drop of sweat wasn't dripping down the back of his neck right now. "What? Of course not," he said through a mouthful of fried rice.

One could hear the collective exhale of disappointment all the way to your townhouse.

— ✶

It was Thursday evening when you found yourself walking out of the performing arts hall after yet another rehearsal, and coming face to face with the person who had become one of your greatest problems over the past month.

Your hand stopped in midair from which you were brushing the hair out of your face when you and a young woman made eye contact. She was seated on one of the benches facing the entryway of the performing arts hall, her attention lifting away from her phone and to you. The sky remained alight and streaked in its dazzling sunset colors, and yet, the sight of her made everything feel grayed.

She smiled at you. "Ah, you're done."

Something crawled beneath the surface of your skin. For a second, you thought it was disgust, but upon further thought, it was really something bittersweet. You swallowed, adjusting your hold on your bag strap. "Can I help you?"

"Do you remember me, Yn?"

"Of course, I do, Ellie." How could I forget you?

Ellie's smile shuddered and you suddenly couldn't read her face. It was strange seeing her four years into the future. You remembered catching glimpses of her in the hallways, her sweet smile and button nose, the freckles sprinkled across her cheekbones like kisses from the sun. "I guess that's one thing out of the way."

Her biting words to Hyunjae appeared in the forefront of your mind. "What you said to Hyunjae—"

"Was true," she cut in. "And based on the fact that he blocked me a few days ago, I'm guessing that something happened between you two." Her lips curled upward, "How does it feel to know he actually doubted you? If I'm being honest, it makes me fucking sing, Yn!" There was a shiver-inducing giddiness to her voice and you wondered if this was all a joke. It would be a cruel joke, but anything would be better than this.

Could she see the horror on your face? "Ellie, we were friends," you managed to say.

She pressed her lips together. "We were friends until you decided that we weren't."

"What are you talking about?" You threw back at her. "We drifted apart—"

"You abandoned me," she quipped. The smile was gone now, her mouth set into a taut line. "You left me to rot."

Your heart dropped into your stomach. About a million things flashed through your mind, but most of all, you came to a very fast epiphany: you'd always thought she was happy. "Ellie," you said, slowly, softly, "I'm sorry that you felt that way. Really, I am so sorry."

"I've made sure you feel that way."

"But you should have left Hyunjae out of this."

Ellie laughed and the sound was harsh. "This isn't about your stupid best friend, or whatever. This is about you and me. I can't believe you thought—how could you prefer him over me? Why did you stop talking to me, Yn?"

You were so confused. All this time, you had thought that yours and Ellie's friendship ended on a mutually neutral ground. You thought that you had just drifted away from one another from the eventuality of time. Was that not how she saw it this entire time?

The end of Ellie's question took on a raspy undertone, the gleam in her eyes less so that of anger, but the melancholy underneath. You wanted to make things right, but you didn't know what that was.

When you had yet to say anything except for letting the breeze waft past your face, she let out a scoff. It was a somewhat embarrassed sound, her eyes skittish. "You know that my parents always compared me to you. Constantly. You remember what you said to me?"

You swallowed. "'They can compare all they want, but you'll always be enough for me.'"

"I didn't want to bother you when we 'drifted apart', as you say," she continued on with a huff. "And then I saw you and Hyunjae, and the way you looked at him—god, I knew right away, Yn. And I was so bitter. Just so, so bitter." She shook her head. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

Dear god, you hadn't known this whole time. You'd wished you had known. You didn't know what you might have done differently—maybe not have been so blind—but… what if you couldn't have saved that friendship? Was this always meant to happen in the grand scheme of the universe's stage?

You made your way toward her and she simply watched as you stopped a handful of paces away from her. “I didn’t mean to drift away from you or to make you feel like I was replacing you in any way.” For a moment, you were quiet, and you inhaled a deep breath to query, "What made you suddenly want to confront me after so long then?"

She peered up at you, a mixture of sadness and something sharper in the reflection of her irises. "You didn't have to keep getting better and showing off. I just got sick of living in your shadow when you weren't even there."

You bristled at that. “What else could I have done? I’m sorry you felt that way, really, but I had a lot of pressure on my shoulders, too. I wanted them to stop expecting more from me, but each time I did something right, they kept pushing for more. And I—”

“I just wanted my friend back!” She exclaimed.

The words died on your tongue, dissipating in the tense air between you two. The fight left you then, seeing the hard break in her expression, a sliver of the girl you remembered from so long ago. What happened to her? She’d been poisoned by whatever feelings were locked inside her, and you supposed that it was only inevitable that those same feelings would one day be unleashed. You wished she didn’t have to confront you this way. "So you thought lying to Hyunjae would have done the trick?" You finally murmured.

"You didn't figure out who's been messing around with your production all quarter?"

The question caught you off guard, but you were quick to catch on nonetheless. Your breath hitched as you stood there, stunned. "That was you?"

A nod.

"All of it?" Disbelief struck you clean across the face and you felt like you'd just been slapped. A new level of anger boiled in your blood; all of those nights you spent creeped out of your mind, the extra stress from all the superstitious bullshit—

"This is our last act," she said, her tongue darting out for a moment. "I don't want anything else from you after this."

You couldn’t believe she would go through all of this trouble—all for what? All to prove what? It was utterly childish, preposterous, dramatic. “Good,” you asserted, as firmly as you could muster, “I don’t want anything from you either.”

And there was a split-second where you saw a crack in her expression, truly. Before, when you’d seen that bit of melancholy seep through, it must have been purposeful. Perhaps it was to draw some kind of sympathy or guilt from you, but after she admitted to doing all of that crap to you and your peers, you weren’t about to lean into that, old friend be damned. Of course you felt bad that she had felt like that for so long. You pitied her. But it didn’t mean you had to forgive her; not for this.

Maybe this was it though: all she wanted from you was for you to feel as helpless as she had, but you simply couldn’t feel that way. All that you could feel was cold fury.

“Fine,” she cleared her throat, straightening. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

You let out a scoff, the sound making her eyelids shudder. Your teeth grated against each other as you closed yours and her “final act”: “And I hope you’ve learned yours. I hope I never see you again.”

You turned brusquely on your heel to walk away before you did anything rash. But a sudden thought appeared on the tip of your tongue, and you found yourself stopping. When you glanced back at her, she was watching you leave with an emotion you couldn’t quite detect. The two of you had been such good friends, and… you really wished you could understand her position better. “I just don’t understand why you went through all this trouble. If you had just—texted me, called me—” You made a gesture with your hand then let the limb fall limply to your side, “You could’ve just said hi.”

You left her behind after that, purposefully this time. Did people like Ellie deserve their chance at redemption? Maybe when the dust had settled, but for now, you hoped she received her due karma.

EPISODE TEN: GOOGLE, DEFINE DRAMATIC IRONY.

THEY said that a terrible dress rehearsal marked a production for a brilliant opening night. As Michael, the wine salesman dude, forgot his fifth line of the rehearsal; as the tech staff in the box forgot their second lighting cue of the night; and as Hongjoong continued to have to fuss over San’s Uncle™ beard for the third time, you were trying very hard to keep that saying in mind.

Weeks had passed—you didn’t know how many, maybe five, maybe two, maybe an entire year—but that entire time, you didn’t feel Ellie’s presence haunting you anymore, nor had you heard from Hyunjae yet. He was busy with his architectural capstone project, anyway, and you felt that you both needed to take this time to yourselves to focus on more important things. (You thought this as if your friendship with him didn’t mean the absolute fucking world, but you were pretty sure you were seconds away from setting this building on fire so—)

The dreaded Tech Week had descended upon the cast and crew of Jasmine. Not only that, but it was also Finals Week, meaning everyone in this room was just as stressed out as they usually were, except, five times more. It made for a great rehearsal, clearly.

“—remember that as soon as she says ‘fine!’, you have to be out here to pull the rug out from beneath her feet,” you instructed the stagehand, who looked a millisecond away from passing out right there on the stage.

When they nodded their understanding, you turned away with a migraine pounding away at your temples. You just had to get through one more act, and you could call it a night. Opening night was literally in four days, and you were trying not to yearn after your best friend and feel guilty about pushing him away—and then there was the guilt that had slowly bubbled up over the past few weeks from what happened with Ellie. Maybe it had been all your fault—

“Yn, your eye is twitching.”

“Huh?” You perked up from where you were seemingly glaring a hole in the ground of the nosebleeds. Younghoon shot you an amused, yet mildly concerned look from within the winds of the stage. “Oh, sorry. Can we take it from the top of act three, please? One more act, people; let’s hang in there.”

That latter bit was more for you.

By the end of rehearsal, everyone was just as happy as you were to head home. Today was Monday, the beginning of the week, and yet you wished it was Saturday already—graduation. Now that was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Younghoon held the door open for you as the two of you exited out the front doors of the performing arts hall. When you murmured a thank you to him, he fell into step with you easily. The walk to the bus station seemed impossibly long with the ache in your legs.

Younghoon released a low-sounding whistle. “So…”

“Hm?”

“Are you coming to Cobie’s surprise birthday party tomorrow? I know it’s finals week and tech week, but it’d be nice to have that little break beforehand.”

Oh, right. Hyunjae’s friend Jacob was having his birthday party—well, it wasn’t him who was hosting, but his girlfriend. She had organized all of it, and had even had the good will to extend an invitation to you. At the time, you couldn’t find it in you to say no, despite the knowledge of your busy month at the forefront of your mind. But even now, you found it hard to really formulate a concrete response. The uneasiness was creeping up on you again.

“I dunno, Hoon…” you said lowly with a wince. “Maybe I should just catch up on sleep, y’know? And plus, I don’t want my feelings for Hyunjae to ruin the mood or anything. I’m kind of a Debby Downer right now,” you laughed pitifully.

Younghoon’s mouth curved into a frown. “Yn, you’re not a downer. You’re stressed and you have a lot of burden on your shoulders, but… I think something carefree will be good for you, no? Maybe you should at least stop by and say hello to people—take advantage of Hyunjae having to be in charge of providing free booze for everyone.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his kind eyes. “I’ll think about it,” you promised. You were probably too tired to think logically about going anywhere else but your bed at this moment.

Younghoon nodded. “Okay.”

As the two of you carried on down the stairs now, the bus stop in sight, you gathered your wits about you. “How is… how is he, by the way?” You asked.

Younghoon peered at you with something akin to gentleness and sympathy. “He’s… I think he’s okay.” He squinted one eye as he looked up toward the night sky, the thoughts meandering about his head. “You just have to give him some time. You know how stubborn he is,” he joked.

You could only give a shallow nod at that.

Not one to let a friend leave him so upset, he nudged you with the back of his hand. “Hey, don’t worry too much about him, okay? You have a lot on your plate right now, and you deserve to have your head in the game, okay? It’s all gonna be okay.”

“You always have such a way with words,” you laughed lightly as you wiped a tear from your eye—whether it was from emotions or just being plain exhausted, you couldn’t tell.

He smiled again then. “If I wrote down these words, I’d be stealing your job, Miss Director.”

Your laugh was a little brighter at that note. “Okay, Actor Extraordinaire. We’ll see about that.”

The two of you shared a laugh, and when you reached the bus stop, Younghoon waited until the bus came by to pick you up. It wasn’t yet deep night, but he was a gentleman all the same. You climbed up into the bus, scanning your transportation card as you went, then sat by a window to wave to Younghoon.

When the bus pulled away from the curb and away into the night, Younghoon pulled out his phone to the text chain with his partner. He’d come to a decision then, and as hungry as he was, he figured he could channel this annoyance into confronting one certain man by the name of Lee Jaehyun.

younghoon’s phone: love, i think i’m going to be late for dinner

beloved mastermind: i’ll save u a seat <;3

— ✶

The lights beneath the swimming pool glowed an ethereal shade of fluorescent blue. It reminded Younghoon of a mermaid's cove with the way the light waves reflected off the ceilings of the building to create scales on the rafters. The emptiness of the indoor swimming pool was offset by the thrashing of flesh against water as a lone swimmer stole lap after lap across the great blue.

Younghoon lowered himself onto a steel bleacher and watched Hyunjae bolt from one end of the pool to the next, hardly taking the time to breathe air, like he breathed chlorine and water instead. The familiarity of the smell—warm stone, pungent chemicals—sent flashes of Younghoon's own days on the high school swim team to his mind.

At last, Hyunjae took his final lap, his breathing coming out labored as he swept a hand up his face and through his hair. His locks slicked all the way back, and his chest rose and fell harshly as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his lungs fought to consume oxygen without asphyxiating on it.

Hyunjae clambered his elbows onto the deck. "How'd you—know I was here?" He managed to say, nodding his thanks as Younghoon handed him the water bottle at the other end of the bench from him where Hyunjae's duffle bag sat.

Younghoon gave a meager shoulder shrug. "I know you too well not to," he said. The two were both swimmers, and where else would swimmers go to put their head somewhere else and to escape the world?

Hyunjae couldn't argue with that.

The two friends were quiet for a minute as Younghoon let Hyunjae catch his breath. There was something troubling about seeing him so tense, even after pumping out so many laps. The exhaustion didn't seem to outweigh the conflict warring in his mind.

Finally— "Hyunjae-ah, what are you doing?"

Hyunjae blinked up at him, perplexed. "Huh?"

Younghoon leaned his cheek against his palm, elbow resting on top of his knee. He fixed him with a stare. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

This time, the message seemed to have been delivered successfully. Hyunjae licked his lips, his gaze averting away from Younghoon. "Did you come here just to scold me?"

"No, I came here to tell you you're being an angsty teen."

Hyunjae scowled, his lips pressed into a pout. "No, I'm not."

Younghoon rolled his eyes just as his stomach grumbled in protest at him not going straight to meet his partner for dinner. Instead, here he was, trying to talk sense to a wall. "You're so childish sometimes."

He quieted. Hyunjae leaned his head against the meat of his forearm, eyes fluttering closed against the warmth of the heated pool deck. "How is she?"

"She's not good, but she's also not bad," Younghoon replied. He sighed, leaning forward onto his forearms for a more comfortable confrontation position. His lips pulled into a line. "Stressed, of course, but I think that was a given."

Hyunjae rubbed his eyes. "I fucked up, Younghoon."

A solemn nod. "I'm glad you see it now."

"This isn't a joke."

"I'm not saying it's a joke."

Hyunjae squinted at him. "Sometimes I don't believe you."

Younghoon smiled cheekily. "Well, sometimes you have to pick who and what to believe."

That hit a nerve, even if Younghoon didn't mean it to. Hyunjae immediately thought of yours and his last conversation. He couldn't get the image out of his head of the look of betrayal on your face when you asked him if he didn't trust you. He'd been stupid to be so curious, but of course he trusted you. He'd always trusted you. Who else could he trust but the very person who always protected him and was by his side? So why did he have to go and be so stupid?

He backed away from the wall for a minute and simply stood in the middle of the shallow lane as if the water could give him wisdom. "I," he began, then sighed, "I miss her a lot. I've wanted to text her, to call her so many times." He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I think I just don't know what I would say."

"An apology would be a good start," suggested Younghoon.

"Right…" That was obvious, and yet, it was always the most difficult step. Would you let him come back into your life after a reveal like that? Feelings were such fragile, fickle things.

His heart sank at the idea of losing you forever though.

One day, she'll drop you, too, those damned words replayed over and over in his head like a broken record. —When she finds someone better… I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories.

Once upon a time, Hyunjae hadn't always been "awful" or dogged down by other people's negative testimonials about his attitude. So what if he had been "scorned by love" as you so lovingly put it one time? That experience had been enough for him to shut down all access points, keeping you sheltered in with him. It was hard for him to think of wanting to be with anyone else… but you.

He didn't mean to latch onto you so tight, but perhaps he had grown so dependent on you all this time. You had never given him reason to doubt how much you cared—god, why had he been so stupid?

Younghoon watched Hyunjae's inner conflict through the windows to his soul, glowing with the cerulean blue of the chemically altered pool water. "Hyunjae, do you love her?"

Of course he loved you. That was out of the question. But this was a different type of love that Younghoon was referring to, and it called for something much larger in the grand scheme of things.

That kind of love—what a frightening prospect, he thought. But didn't you make everything so much less frightening?

EPISODE ELEVEN: PLACES, EVERYONE!

"YOU stole my boyfriend, by the way." Hyunjae huffed as he set down the last two grocery bags he had helped bring up to the apartment from Juyeon's car.

JC!Yn barely batted an eyelash at him as she swept past to organize the utensils and cups set out on the breakfast table. “You snooze, you lose, Lee,” she teased with a sing-song tone.

From the front door, Sangyeon bumbled in with a clean, crisp white box, as he whistled a happy tune under his breath. JC!Yn greeted him at the entryway, thanking him profusely for picking up the cake, then taking the box from him so she could transfer it to the fridge for safe keeping.

“Chanhee says that he’s bringing his best friend, so he wants everyone to—I quote—‘not be embarrassing’,” Changmin snorted and giggled loudly from the couch where he relayed the information from his texts with Chanhee.

“That’ll be difficult for you,” CM!Yn quipped back so fast that Hyunjae couldn’t even suppress the high-pitched laugh he let out. Not that he wanted to suppress it; he had to admit that Changmin’s girlfriend was just as much a menace as her boyfriend was.

As Changmin’s jaw dropped and he pounced on top of her to tickle her into submission, Hyunjae averted his gaze elsewhere. He pulled his phone out, leaning against the granite kitchen countertop while he read Younghoon’s latest text notifications.

bread face: we’ll be there soon

bread face: i think i saw kevin and jacob a few cars behind us at the intersection, so i’m making haknyeon step on it

hyunjae’s phone: lol i was gonna chastise u about texting and driving hoon

bread face: tch pls, i’m better than that 🙄

bread face: i would at least make yh!yn do my texts for me 🤪

Hyunjae glanced up just in time to see JC!Yn’s front door open to reveal Chanhee and Eric, along with their plus ones. He tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking offhandedly at the fact that so many of his friends had found people to be with. It felt like they were all growing up far too fast; even as a fourth-year in university, it was unimaginable. Where would they all be in ten years? Where would he be?

He hoped, at the very least, that he might see you in his future—one way or another. As long as he could pull his shit together and finally talk to you.

hyunjae’s phone: almost everyone’s here btw r u guys close??

bread face: yeah, pulling up one block over so they don’t see hak’s car

bread face: hey, do yk if yn’s coming today?

Hyunjae’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, then he typed in the clear answer: no, not a clue. I have a feeling she won’t be here though.

He tucked his phone away, looking over to see that JC!Yn’s roommate, Kei, had just stepped out of her room with a finished “Happy Birthday, Jacob” banner. “Hey, you need help with that?”

— ✶

The party was well under way, and suffice to say, the surprise party had been an entire success. Because Jacob was definitely not a fan of being jumpscared, it was good foresight that everyone was just in sight when he and Kevin opened the door. He had no clue that his partner had organized this for everyone and that everyone else was in on it. (Even Eric was able to keep the secret in the wraps, no doubt with the help of his significant other.) Almost all of his friends had brought along a plus-one, minus the singletons (himself, Juyeon, Kevin, and Sangyeon—though, that was still debatable) and Haknyeon and Sunwoo who’s significant others weren’t too close with the group just yet. It was a marvel that Younghoon’s girlfriend decided to come, too, but she said she would probably leave early anyway.

“You’re so sad-looking,” said Juyeon as he hopped onto the island counter next to Hyunjae. The two of them could scope out the whole apartment from this vantage point; the mood seemed to be at an all-time high, despite it being an incredibly stressful week for everyone.

Hyunjae made an indignant noise and he lifted his plastic cup of soda to his lips. “Pfft. I’m not sad-looking.”

Juyeon gave a meager shrug. “Every time you see someone and their partner, you look like your puppy just got taken.”

“That’s—” he stammered in protest, “—that’s not true. I—I just keep thinking about my arch capstone, that’s all! School is ruining my life.” The lie was so stark that even Hyunje winced to himself.

“Ah, well, I can relate to that,” his friend sighed. The two gazed out at the party, their ears perking up when they heard Sangyeon say something about him and Jacob needing to step outside for Jacob’s birthday gift—whatever that meant. Hyunjae and Juyeon exchanged strange looks with one another, before bursting into laughter.

Not even a few minutes had passed before Jacob and Sangyeon walked back into the apartment with everyone’s curiosity piqued. Jacob had on the best poker face that he could muster, his lips pressed together but a muscle in the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he was either trying not to laugh or smile.

“Well?” Kevin was the first to voice. He, along with everyone else over at the couch, leaned over the back of the furniture, their eyes wide like dogs waiting for a treat. Hyunjae and Juyeon probably looked similar from their perches.

“He asked for proof of my girlfriend,” Sangyeon said as he closed the front door behind him.

Hyunjae snorted, catching a slight glare from the eldest in the room. For however long, their friend group had an ongoing inside joke that Sangyeon pretended to have a “secret girlfriend.” It was only because Sangyeon had never once provided concrete proof, and maybe it was because he purposefully withheld it, but Hyunjae simply couldn’t understand why. Thus, the hilarious teasing of their eldest friend. Nonetheless, Hyunjae and everyone else remained curious as to the truth.

“Well then?” Juyeon pressed, “What’s the verdict, Cobie?”

The smile on his face really couldn’t be suppressed anymore, and it looked so close to a smirk. Jacob grinned, strolling over to the couch to resume his place between his best friend and girlfriend. “No comment.”

The room erupted into a loud groan from seemingly everyone. “What kind of answer—”

Even Sangyeon looked frustrated and his eyebrows furrowed together, paired with a slight parting of his lips. “Birthday Boy has so much audacity today. Dude, I literally showed you—”

At the sound of the doorbell tone, everyone paused. Hyunjae hopped off the counter, chirping, “I’ll get it!”

No one was opposed to Hyunjae opening the door as everyone else engaged in a battle of wits commenting on Jacob's refusal to confirm nor deny the existence of a future Mrs. Lee Sangyeon. Hyunjae reached the front door and peered through the peephole curiously—then stiffened.

You stood on the other side, your hands fidgety as you played around with the little gift bag in your hands, no doubt for Jacob.

He could hardly believe his eyes—you actually came.

He opened the door without much else left to do. Your gazes clashed in the front threshold of JC!Yn's apartment, your breaths leaving your lungs at the sight of the other. Hyunjae swallowed; he hated this tension, hated the way he couldn't just wind his arms around you as easily as he had done before. The palpitations of his heart were teetering on dangerous territory, and he chalked it up to the fact that he was nervous he might be making you uncomfortable.

"Hey, come in," he murmured low but soft, stepping aside to give you space. He barely registered the background noise at this point.

"Thanks," you said back, your voice barely audible. You stepped out of your shoes and nudged them toward the massive pile by the shoe rack, like an ocean of footwear wherein one must play a matching game in order to leave. You coughed, "Uhm, is there a place where I can put this?" You lifted your gift bag half-heartedly.

"Oh, I can put it—" he automatically reached out for it, and when his fingers grazed against yours, the two of you jolted, "—away," he stammered. You let go of it so he could quickly grab hold and make his very awkward escape.

He dipped into JC!Yn's room where all the presents were being stashed, allowing himself to soak in a bit of quiet, even if he could still hear the muffled party just outside the room. That had to be the worst thing ever. Why was he so jumpy around you? It couldn't be that you professed your being in love with him, right? He wished it wasn't like this.

He needed to talk to you, damn it, he needed to fix this—

But when he emerged from the room and into the main living space, he saw you chatting with YH!Yn and Kevin and Changmin. He watched you smile at them and laugh and look way less awkward than you'd been with him just a minute ago. He remembered what this week was, what Friday was.

Opening night: the culmination of months' worth of blood, sweat, and tears.

He'd been there for you since the beginning of it. He couldn't see you fail, and this was the first time he'd seen you not stressed. He didn't have the heart to ruin that for you right now.

So instead of marching up to you and requesting an audience, he made his way over to a few of his other friends to join whatever conversation they were having. He would fix things when you didn't have five thousand other things to worry about. Today wasn't about him, after all.

EPISODE TWELVE: CALL TIME, BABY!

TONIGHT was the night. You thought you were going to throw up, to be honest, and you gently sipped on an iced caramel macchiato to keep your energy up. Perhaps the caffeine was making you just a little jittery, but it was probably the nerves—

"Yn!"

"Yeah, what's up?" You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and just barely dodging the pair of stagehands hustling a backdrop past you.

Jihoon gestured wide with his arms. "Where are you going? Preshow's in seven minutes."

Oh, right. Your eyes widened in incredulity at your absentmindedness and practically jogged over to Jihoon and the other end of the corridor that led back toward backstage, instead of wherever the fuck you were off to… "Sorry," you muttered, waving vaguely to your head, "dunno what's up with me right now. Is everyone ready? Everything in place?"

He nodded, his eyes leaving you for a second while someone said something to him in his headset. "Ugh, shit. We can't find SW!Yn—ever since she got that boyfriend of hers—"

Your hands flapped between the two of you as you nodded your head vigorously—yeah, it was definitely the caffeine. "She's probably in the sound booth with Chan and the others. She's not that boy crazy."

Jihoon made an unconvinced expression, but bid you farewell nonetheless. He probably knew more than you did, but that was expected since you weren't exactly a long-term staff member working backstage. Jihoon ran a tight ship; there was no way anyone would risk a Jihoon stare by saying hi to their significant other.

You held your head in your hand and set your drink down on one of the stools by the edge of the room so it wouldn't get knocked over. Tonight was Opening Night—the night. Tonight, there was a full house, including your friends and family, everyone at school, and about a dozen or so industry experts. The latter weren't just here for you, but for your acting peers, as well. This was a critical night for everyone. It absolutely had to go right.

You shifted the headset on top of your head and made your way back down the corridor. You were far too antsy to just stay in one spot.

"—can one of you go check Jess's hair and makeup—no, don't just rip it, hon, that's not how it works!" You recognized that anguished cry anywhere, and you peered into the dressing room Hongjoong and a swarm of other busy people were.

"What's going on?" You asked.

Hongjoong's head whipped around so fast you were surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Yn, thank God! You know how to braid?"

"Jess still needs hair and makeup?"

"Yes, one of my people had to call out sick—thanks Yn-ie!" You were already on your way to find where Jess was before he had finished his sentence. You'd hardly even processed the fact that one of the costume staff had to call out sick—that wasn't your main concern right now—you literally had less than five minutes to locate Jess and yeet yourself backstage.

The sound in your headset sparked to life. "Sound to Yn, Yn to sound. Can you hear me?" Bang Chan's voice echoed into your ears.

You narrowly got beheaded by a portion of the wedding arch coming down the hallway. "Loud and clear; fuck, it's a mess back here, Chan." God, your head hurt and the play hadn't even begun yet.

"Hey, man. Take a little breath, okay? Yeah, there you go."

You sucked in a very large breath of air. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins and your hands suddenly felt very cold. "Hyunjae usually helped me through opening nights," you exhaled, your head swerving left and right as you checked each room for Jess's presence. "Where is she?"

"I know, Yn," he said gently. "You can do this though. I know you can. You've been waiting for this for four years—hell, even longer than that."

Your head bobbed up and down as if he could see you—oh shit, was that her you just saw?

"He's probably sitting in one of those velvet seats, absolutely pumped for you."

"Even though I completely fucked up our friendship?" You choked out, flagging Jess down. The poor girl looked frantic as she was trying to finish her stage makeup while also braiding her hair. There was no way she could do both, but you admired the attempt. You began to help her out with her hair as she used her phone as a mirror.

"I don't know what happened, Yn, but he loves you too much to not be here tonight."

It was suddenly very difficult to swallow.

"Preshow in two. Are you ready for this, Director Ln?"

You finished the braid, snapping the elastic with a crisp thwip. Tapping Jess to let her know she was good to go, you made an immediate reverse maneuver to backstage. You took a deep breath in once more—held it—

Get your head in the game. Chan was right—you'd been waiting for this for far too long, worked far too hard. You needed to put faith in your abilities and your peers. "Let's do this."

When you returned to the main backstage portion, you found techies ready to go, as well as your main cast. You caught Younghoon's eyes, silently asking for him to round up Eunwoo while you got Sana and Miyeon. Quickly, the five of you met in the middle.

"Everyone feeling okay?" You asked them, making eye contact with each and every one of them.

There was a buzz about the air, both nervous and excited. You could feel it in the way your hands shook, but you reminded yourself this was what you lived for. Someone, probably Chan, gave you the one minute warning.

"We're gonna do great out there," Younghoon affirmed.

"And when in doubt," Miyeon chimed in, "just improvise."

A small chuckle rang out, and you could hear the countdown in your ear. You had to go out on stage and greet everyone.

"Okay, I got my cue," you said to them. "Break a leg, everyone. Chins up, alright?"

"You too, Yn," Younghoon said to you with a pointed look.

A smile graced your face then, and something settled within your chest—finally—something like a calm. "I will."

— ✶

The only reason why Hyunjae knew how expensive flowers were was because he was well-versed in the nature of presenting you with them after each production you'd completed, whether that be through theater or film. It was all standard practice, and he couldn't believe Sunwoo had the audacity to argue with him and his girlfriend about when to send flowers backstage.

Flowers were to be withheld from reaching the actor, staff, or director until the end of the performance. It was just one of those other superstitious things.

So here he was, sitting shoulder to shoulder between Juyeon and a stranger, with a lap full of vibrant blooms in what he thought were the best seats in the house: the lower balcony seats. They were probably his favorite place to get a proper view of the stage while also not being as high as the top balcony and seeing the top of actors' heads. Maybe it was the child in him that liked anything concerning the balcony.

The play had been going strong for the entire run time. You had come out on stage at the very beginning to welcome everyone and thank them for coming tonight. All the relevant information about the play could be found in the playbills that were handed out at the door, and he had instinctively flipped through each page until he could confirm your name and Younghoon's were there. That had definitely brought a smile to his face.

But even now, as the play was coming to an end and the main characters ended up happy together, Hyunjae still couldn't get the smile off his face.

At curtain call, all the actors lined up on stage to take their bows. When you came out to gesture to your acting peers and take your own bow, everyone in Hyunjae's row, especially himself, stood to give you the standing ovation you deserved. Hyunjae's eyes watered as he whooped and cheered and whistled as loud as he could since the flowers made it difficult to clap.

As he and everyone else sat back into their seats, he had to sneak a hand up to delicately wipe his right eye.

"That's my best friend," he said to no one in particular, his laugh watery but proud.

The woman next to him heard him, though. "She's incredible."

Hyunjae smiled at her, then turned his head toward the stage again where you were corralling the main cast in a massive hug onstage. "I know; she's amazing." I love her.

— ✶

The entire performing arts hall was in a state of utter pandemonium. Both the auditorium and the backstage areas were swarmed with people trying to get out of the building, trying to find their friends, and a butt load of other things. You and all the cast members began helping backstage crew take everything down and lock them up; after all, they would need to be preserved for the next two performances of the show that would carry on through the first couple of weeks of summer. Opening Night was only the "presentation" of your thesis.

Tomorrow was Commencement Day—there were a great handful of you graduating literally tomorrow, including yourself, and so you'd all resolved to go home and save the celebration for another night.

As you wandered through the corridors and dressing rooms, you were sure to congratulate everyone for their hard work tonight. Your cheeks ached from smiling, pride singing through your blood, as well as the lingering adrenaline. But you couldn't deny that you were relieved that the night had gone, and gone well.

Friends and family members of the cast and crew began trickling into the backstage area, so the space to roam lessened considerably.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjae had rushed back here faster than his friends could stop him, antsy to finally congratulate you and let you know how proud he was and how great the play was. He craned his head over the sea of people, half his bouquet no doubt squished, but he was still determined.

There—he spotted the blazer you wore on stage—but you were all the way at the end of the corridor. There was no easy way through the people, and who knew if you would leave before he could get to you.

"Yn!" He hollered over all the noise.

Like clockwork, your head whipped around from the stagehand you were speaking animatedly with in search of who had called your name. You locked gazes with him, and there was a softening in your features.

(In a crowded room, all I'd see is y—)

His heart leapt and his legs jump-started into high gear, murmuring out sorries as he maneuvered his way toward you. There were tears pricking at his vision; he never cried for anything or anyone, but you'd been the only one to draw such emotion from him. You were the only one who deserved that emotion.

"Jae, you're here," you breathed out, but then somebody tapped your shoulder and nodded in the direction from which you came.

He saw the concern on your face, the sense of responsibility, and yet the reluctance, as well. "Call me when you're done," he said. He mustered a smile, pushing the flowers into your dumbfounded hands. "Promise to call me."

You managed to nod. "Yeah," you swallowed, "thanks for coming tonight."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

EPISODE THIRTEEN: ALL THE WORLD'S OUR STAGE

A couple of hours later, you'd managed to express your gratitude to nearly everyone and their mother for their work and help, as well as convince Jihyo to answer any calls that came in regarding the play tonight. It was a big ask and you had been reluctant to ask that of her, but you also knew you needed to talk to Hyunjae.

You made your way out the back door of the performing arts hall and into the warm, early Summer night. There weren’t too many people still around since the only handful of people left in the performing arts center were all older staff members and faculty. You spotted Hyunjae leaning against the wall by the staircase, his gaze lifting from his phone when he sensed you coming toward him. A small smile curled onto his lips, and you realized how much you missed the sight of it.

“Hey, sorry you had to wait for a while,” you said as you approached.

He tucked his hands into his pockets. “No, don’t worry about it. The play was—it was incredible, Yn. I’m really proud of you.”

Those words struck you even harder than you imagined him saying he loved you back would have. It meant a lot coming from other people, but it meant the most coming from him. “Thanks,” you rasped, the emotion shining through your voice, and you had to consciously reign yourself in. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, and I know that my confession was kind of unexpected.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for that, Yn,” he said gently, his teeth biting down on his lower lip slightly. “I’m the sorry one. I mean, it was so stupid that I even entertained the idea of Ellie being remotely correct. It was a breach of trust and I crossed a boundary that I shouldn’t have. For that, I’m so sorry.”

You motioned to the path leading down the stairs and toward a path even you knew not where it would lead the two of you tonight. Hyunjae heard your silent suggestion, and the two of you began descending the stairs together, side by side. “Maybe I thought I wasn’t ready at that moment,” you confessed, “but maybe it was what needed to be said, you know?”

When you glanced over at him, you found that he was already looking back at you, clinging onto every word that came out of your mouth.

Your heart rate was still rocketing into the atmosphere right now, but you knew that it wasn’t from the play. “I think that I needed to say that—no matter if I was ‘ready’ or not. I don’t think I would have ever been ready, but…” Your foot hit the bottom step of the stairs, and you turned on the ball of your feet to face him, guiding the two of you down the path and away from your normal direction toward the bus station. “Before you say anything, just hear me out, okay?”

Hyunjae gave a nod, and your heart stuttered in your chest as you forged onward. “You don’t have to affirm my feelings if you don’t feel the same way,” you said, returning to your normal position at his side, “I think that was why I’ve been so afraid of telling you all this time—that you wouldn’t feel the same. That, and the fact that I was scared that telling you would absolutely wreck our friendship like it did these past few weeks.”

From beside you, Hyunjae managed to keep quiet, but his voice was also jammed inside his throat. It was filled up with all the things he’d wanted to say to you first, all the things that he wanted to say in response to what you were telling him now.

“Ellie confronted me the week after our fallout.” Hyunjae stiffened—had she done anything to you? “She told me that she was the one behind all the ‘pranks’ or whatever throughout the play rehearsals.”

“Yn, those weren’t pranks,” Hyunjae couldn’t help but cut in, “it was plain sabotage.”

Sabotage. You’d come to fear labeling her actions with that word, simply because you didn’t want to believe that that was her true intention. You struggled to swallow, stopping in the middle of the walkway. The two of you faced each other then, his eyebrows pressed together in shock and anger and every emotion in between. “She told me she did it to get back at me.”

“For what?”

“I abandoned her,” you told him. That emotion on his face shuddered like ripples in a pool of water. “It’s neither of your faults either, but I guess what I thought was drifting away from her and becoming closer to you, she saw in a more malicious light. And she said that she’d been sick of living in my shadow despite not even being in my life, and I’ve just been thinking about that for a while.” You said you’d be there for her, that she’d always be enough for you… how ironic that you’d been the one to drift away.

Hyunjae peered at you, a mess of things going through his head. You couldn’t imagine what he was thinking about right now, but you knew he was never the best at expressing his emotions and vulnerabilities.

It was okay, though. He didn’t have to say anything. “In that moment, I cut off all ties with her,” you clarified, “when she told me it was all her doing. Now, I just feel a little sad; I wished she would’ve just said hi to me.”

Hyunjae wet his lips, grasping your shoulders to get your attention. “You know you didn’t deserve any of that, right? All that shit she gave you? I mean, she pretty much terrorized you, Yn, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

You wondered—no, you knew—he was probably beating himself up inside for the argument the two of you had, too. The combined force of all of those tough conversations, as well as the pressure from the play… “I’m okay, Jae,” you reassured him. This time, you even believed what you said. “I’m shaken, no doubt, but it’s something that will pass with time.”

In this lighting, he was beautiful, ethereal. The amber streetlight casted a heavenly glow upon him, and made his eyes glimmer like the moon off a still body of water. You’d written something like that description somewhere in the original script, and you realized just how intimately you’d projected your reality into the lines of that production. Perhaps one day, you’d have the strength to point them all out to him.

A thought suddenly occurred to you in the silence, and your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Oh my god.”

“What? What’s wrong—”

“I never got to see your finalized capstone project!” You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth in scandal. “Shit, the showcase for it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Oh shit, I’m awful—” For as supportive as Hyunjae had been with your final project, you had neglected to even think about his thesis these last weeks. Guilt coursed through your body in waves and you wanted to screech—

“Hey, honey,” he chuckled good-naturedly, “it’s okay. You were busy; don’t sweat it.” He bit his lip again, but it did nothing to suppress the shit-eating grin on his face. “Wanna go see it now? I’m sure they haven’t cleaned everything up yet.”

Your heart skipped for a new reason now. “You’re gonna break into the architecture building?” You laughed.

“It’s not breaking and entering if you have access,” he said in a “duh” tone, waving around his student ID.

As the two of you made a swift reverse back up the stairs from which you’d come from, you gaped at his ID card in disbelief. “I can’t believe they gave you clearance.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. “Why wouldn’t they grant their top student clearance on his last week?” He sniffed jokingly.

The pairing of dialogue and execution made a giggle sputter out of you, the sound making Hyunjae’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. He hated the tension that had wrapped itself around the bones of his ribcage, but those vines were slowly loosening and blooming into something familiar, and yet new.

The trek to the architecture building was well-worn by both you and him. You hadn’t been by the architecture building in awhile because of your busy schedule, but you used to always pop by to either walk him to lecture or to come visit him while he was working. The building was built in a Greco-Roman style with columns and arches, and beautifully carved marble murals and statues around the perimeter of the roof. You knew that the building style in particular was never Hyunjae’s taste, but you remembered when the two of you had toured the school in your senior year of high school, he had been awestruck nonetheless.

Just as he had said it would, his ID card slid against the panel outside the front doors to the architecture building and came up green.

The two of you, feeling just like you were kids again, giggled as you crept into the darkness of the foyer. Hyunjae grabbed your hand without thinking and dragged you down the right hallway toward one of the larger conference-style classrooms on the ground floor. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in case security came by and saw, but there was a conveniently-placed streetlight right outside the window anyway.

“There’s my masterpiece,” he said quietly, a sort of jitteriness coming through his voice.

You let go of his hand so you could inspect the model he constructed. The feature piece seemed to be the massive clear dome on the top, as well as the smaller, surrounding establishments. “It’s amazing, Jae. This is so cool.”

He almost looked shy as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest and watched you. “Ah, thanks. It’s, uh, a proposed model for a new performing arts department.”

Your head turned to him then. “No way.”

“Yes way,” he smiled. “I don’t know if it’ll get taken up by the board or not, but I gave them my whole spiel yesterday.”

“You’re gonna give me the spiel, too, right?”

Hyunjae made a face, feigning reluctance, but you were already dragging one of the chairs over so you could sit for his little presentation. “I mean, I guess I remember enough to do it again.” He took up his rightful place right next to his model, in front you, and cleared his throat to give you his speech.

The speech went wonderfully; you cheered as quietly loud as you possibly could. Your face was split by a bright smile that you were sure was enough to power the lights in this building if you really wanted to. If the board didn’t take up Hyunjae’s proposed new model after that, then you were about to send a strongly worded letter to the dean.

Hyunjae took on a boyish sort of smile after the moment had come and gone. “Hey, you wanna see something cool?”

“Cooler than this?”

“Pfft,” he dismissed nonchalantly, “you flatter me. But yeah, actually. Come on—it’s on the second floor.”

You quickly shoved your chair back into place and followed Hyunjae as he practically ran out of the room and up the stairs to the second floor. He had far too much energy for it being around ten o’clock at night, but when you saw the absolute glow on his face when he took you from project to project, gushing and nerding out about all the clever designs, you didn’t have the energy to even question his energy. There was something utterly contagious about hearing him talk about his major with such passion; you were so glad he had found a home in this field.

When the two of you finally let yourselves out of the architecture building, it was probably around an hour later. Your body ached with exhaustion, but your brain was abuzz with activity. You had missed this, missed him so much. For the first time in a very long time, you had never felt this carefree before.

“Can you believe we’re actually graduating tomorrow?” You asked him as the two of you walked toward the direction of the street your town house was on.

Hyunjae snorted. “No, not at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “Well, I’m actually so glad that I’m finally getting out of here, but it’s kind of scary, too.”

You gave a nod, then tilted your head back to breathe in the comfortable, night air. There were stars up in the sky tonight. “Yeah, I get that. Like, where will we all be, y’know?”

“Right.”

“But I think that the unknown in general will always be scary,” you added. “In the end, we’ll always know that everything will turn out okay.”

“And if it’s not okay, then it isn’t the end yet,” Hyunjae replied with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” You had a few options lined up for you after graduation, but you’d told yourself beforehand that you would deal with all of that after commencement day. After months and years of working nonstop, you deserved a little rest before fully stepping into the adult world. Wow, what a scary thought, indeed. "I'm proud of you, Hyunjae."

He had to stop himself from breaking down right there. "I'm proud of you, too, Yn."

The walk home was quiet, but it was as if a layer of film had been laid over just you and Hyunjae. The white noise of the night became somewhat calming for you, and you felt yourself sinking into a state of serenity. You had confessed your love for him already—he finally knew how you felt—but funny enough, that was freeing.

That had been your biggest secret, and finally being able to lift that burden from your chest was… it was good. Everything was good now.

Hyunjae softly said, "I know that you probably have so much to do after graduation tomorrow, but we've always wanted to go on a road trip cross-country."

When you looked up over at him, he could read the excitement glittering in your irises. "You're right! Man, that conversation was so long ago. I mean… I won't be so busy after graduation, not immediately. I want time to enjoy freedom with you," you laughed, lightly punching his shoulder.

He chuckled, your words soaking into his skin like sunlight on the first warm day after a harsh winter season. "I think it'd be nice, just the two of us." He couldn't wait.

There was an earnestness in the way you looked at him then. His thoughts had been all over the place before, but now, they were beginning to clear. "I think that'd be nice, too."

Your townhouse was now in sight, and a distinct feeling of anxiety rose in his throat. It was bitter-tasting, the way he dreaded leaving you for the night even if he would most definitely see you again tomorrow. He didn't know why inviting himself in like he usually did was so difficult now, but suddenly, you were both standing in the middle of the entryway and you were getting your keys from your bag.

It was late; he shouldn't keep you up. You'd had a long day.

"—you tomorrow then. Thanks for tonight, Jae."

He wrapped his arms around you just as you hugged him, his face pressed against the crown of your head and yours pressed into his shoulder. He didn't want to let go, but it was late—

"Good night," he said, nearly inaudibly.

"'Night," you said, going into the house and closing the door.

Maybe it was the physical, literal visual of you closing the door on him, but the epiphany hit him like a bus.

EPISODE FOURTEEN: AAAND THAT'S A WRAP!

YOU were about five steps from dropping to the floor and sleeping for about five years. Of course, you could not do that because you literally had to wake up to graduate tomorrow, but right this moment, you were so excited to just face plant into your pillow.

Tap!

The first time, you hadn't even heard the tiny noise as you shuffled into your attic bedroom and set your bag on the floor at the foot of your bed.

TAP!

Actually, you hadn't even heard it the second time—

BONK!

"What the…" Your head whirled around toward the window. You could have sworn you heard something hit the window pane. Cautiously, you walked up to the glass and peered out into the darkened street. It was a little difficult to see given the contrast between the light of your bedroom, the dark of night, and the fogging acrylic pane—

You nearly screeched as a small pebbled hit the window, right where your face would have been. What the fuck—?

Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Could this have been Ellie trying to spook you again? No way, right? Plus, wasn't Hyunjae just walking by?...

Oh, wait.

With a huff of indignation, you wrestled with the latch on the window pane just as another tiny rock came flying at the glass. "Hold your horses," you muttered, finally managing to haul the dusty window up. You only ever really opened this window during the warmer months, and so you hadn't used it since probably late fall quarter.

You stuck your head out the window, and surprise surprise, Hyunjae was tossing another piece of ammo up and down in his palm, down at street level. "What is wrong with you?" You stage whispered.

His mouth curved into a frown, head tilting, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"What," you repeated firmer this time, "is wrong with you?"

"I needed to get your attention," he shrugged.

"You couldn't just text?"

"Isn't this what Romeo did?"

Clearly, someone hadn't been paying attention when you were studying for your classes on Shakespeare in both high school and second year of college. "No," you quipped, "and Romeo was stupid."

Hyunjae sighed, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, dropping the pebble in his hand to the ground. "Okay, so maybe I'm not some Romeo—" You weren't quite sure where he was going with this.

He started walking around, pacing the sidewalk in front of your townhouse since he couldn't stand directly below the window (your roommate would kill him if he killed her azaleas). For a moment, you were ready to go down there yourself and shake the words from him, but it seemed he was able to snap himself into focus.

"I just… it's taken me a long time—god, it always takes me a long time to come up with the words for this type of stuff," he stumbled over his words, and you felt yourself grow increasingly tender. He was never good at wearing his heart on his sleeve. "And my friends have been saying it this whole time—hell, I've probably been aware of it unconsciously this whole time, too! But you know how I am. I'm too damn stubborn to cave, even to myself."

You let him continue on without breaking his monologue. Though you couldn't be too sure what this was, your heart still galloped in hope.

"Yn, I'm—" he said, head tilting back to meet your eyes so you could see those beautiful irises of his, "—I'm in love with you, too."

This was really happening, huh? Your fingers curled around the window sill and you opened your mouth in an effort to say something, but then you closed it. The words and the thoughts were there, but it was so foggy in your mind that you couldn't even string the words together yourself either.

You watched the hope, the light, gradually fade from his expression, even if he wasn't actively trying to show it. "Please tell me to go home if you're not gonna say anything," he said to you next. "I know you're tired, but god, I just stood here and realized I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't tell you. I know it's selfish, but…" He lifted his hands in sort of a helpless gesture, his hands then falling limp at his sides.

Finally, you found your voice. You cleared your throat, then asked quietly, albeit a tad nervously, "This—this isn't just because you feel bad about what I said about not reciprocating, right? I mean, higher levels of excitement and arousal can be misattributed to feelings sometimes—"

Hyunjae shook his head. "Dear god, no. I've just been… I've just been really stupid, so, uhm, maybe I am like Romeo?"

You fought the smile on your face, but it seemed you lost the battle. "Silly goose," you teased, laughing as you shook your head. "You ain't no Romeo, Lee Jaehyun, but I've never wanted anyone but you anyway."

He broke into a laugh at that, the sound echoing in the streets, and it sounded like, if one could bottle up pure delight and release it to the world. "You're so much better at this than me."

"Clearly."

"Well," he bit his lip, his smile impish, "can I kiss you to make up for it?"

Oh, there went your heart—there it went, carrying you down the stairs and out the door—you would have leapt out the window if you were physically able (you weren't). Your heart carried you all the way outside again until you arrived in your best friend's arms, his face, his smile illuminated in the soft glow of the streetlight.

And he held you so tight, you couldn't tell if that beating at your chest was his heart or yours. The two of you wasted no time in pressing your mouths to the other, tasting the other's smile in one more way than you'd ever done before.

It felt, at that moment, that this might have marked act three of one part of your life—but act one of the next was just beginning.

Perhaps it was true then: when it counted, you always went back to your first love.

a/n: heyy thank you for reading thru!! i hope u enjoyed and if u did, pls do consider commenting, reblogging, or sending an ask :] we do love a bit of humility in the end ayo :3 the original plan is to go for sunwoo's next o7

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ethereal-engene @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @jcmdoll @kflixnet

anr taglist: @oi-miya @loveliestfelix @sickvision @jaerisdiction @stealanity @magnificentjudementmoneyhands @inthesunnn @igotkpoopsss @letsnotdoanything @sodafy @dajanxekiwi @sseastar-main @moonyswolf @sleepymoon27 @floatingpluto @fictionlover100 @winterchimez @zlebooks @mcu-incorrect @moontyuns @blessedsunoo @elljj @softie00 @ohmykwonsoonyoung @makgeolli_jw @quill-ink

#the boyz x reader #lee hyunjae x reader #hyunjae x reader #the boyz drabble #the boyz drabbles #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshots #hyunjae imagines #hyunjae scenarios #hyunjae drabbles #hyunjae oneshots

420 notes · View notes