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Someone suggested that I post the first chapter of my longer Wattpad stories here on Tumblr so readers can see if the story is for them before downloading Wattpad.
Please note: This story is exclusive to Wattpad. Only Chapter One will be posted here. If you enjoy it and want to continue, youâll find the complete story on my Wattpad.
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"đŹđŒđ đ°đźđ»'đ đđźđčđž đđŒ đșđČ đčđ¶đžđČ đđ”đźđ đ·đđđ đŻđČđ°đźđđđČ đđŒđ'đżđČ đđ”đČ đđđą," Park Y/N said, her voice sharp, eyes narrowing at him.
"đȘđżđŒđ»đŽ, đœđżđ¶đ»đ°đČđđ. đđ» đđ”đ¶đ đŒđłđłđ¶đ°đČ, đ đ°đźđ» đđźđčđž đđŒ đđŒđ, đŻđČđ»đ± đđŒđ đŒđđČđż đđ”đ¶đ đ±đČđđž, đźđ»đ± đșđźđžđČ đđŒđ đłđŒđżđŽđČđ đČđđČđżđ đłđđ°đžđ¶đ»đŽ đżđđčđČ đđŒđ đđ”đŒđđŽđ”đ đđŒđ đ°đŒđđčđ± đłđŒđčđčđŒđ. đđ»đ± đđżđđđ đșđČ... đđźđčđžđ¶đ»đŽ đđŒđđčđ± đŻđČ đđ”đČ đčđČđźđđ đđ¶đ»đłđđč đđ”đ¶đ»đŽ đ'đ± đ±đŒ đđŒ đđŒđ,"
Kim Taehyung replied, leaning back in his chair with a dark, smug smirk, eyes never leaving her as he caged her with his presence.
"đ'đș đ»đŒđ đđ°đźđżđČđ± đŒđł đđŒđ, đđ¶đș đ§đźđČđ”đđđ»đŽ,"
Y/N shot back, her chin raised in defiance.
"đđŒđŒđ±. đđČđźđż'đ đŻđŒđżđ¶đ»đŽ. đ'đ± đżđźđđ”đČđż đ”đČđźđż đđŒđ đșđŒđźđ» đșđ đ»đźđșđČ đđ”đČđ» đđŒđ đżđČđźđčđ¶đđČ đ·đđđ đ”đŒđ đŻđźđ±đčđ đđŒđ'đđČ đłđđ°đžđČđ± đđœ đđČđșđœđđ¶đ»đŽ đź đșđźđ» đčđ¶đžđČ đșđČ,"
Taehyung said with a dark chuckle, standing and closing the distance between them, his gaze fixed on her like a predator eyeing its prey.
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I stared out the window, watching the streets blur past as my car sped through the city like someone was fucking chasing me. Honestly, it felt like the universe was playing one big joke on me today. It wasn't even morning anymore it was already 5:00 in the evening, but the way my mood was set, it might as well have been 7AM after a night of no sleep.
The whole thing was pissing me off.
How the fuck did it even come to this?
My own dad forcing me on my first-ever blind date like it was some arranged marriage drama. I mean fuck's sake, I've never even dated a guy. Not once. Never held hands, never crushed, never even looked at one in that way. And now suddenly, I was being shoved into a restaurant with a total stranger just because my dad's best friend apparently had a son. Like... what kind of medieval shit was this?
And of course, Park Jimin my older brother, my dumbass best friend laughed his ass off when I told him. I could still hear his voice like it was playing on repeat. "It's just one date, Y/N. He's a trusted guy â one of Dad's friend's sons. You'll survive."
It's not like my dad's a cruel man. I love him. He's always been this strict, protective type, but not in a mean way. More like I'll ground the whole world for you, sweetheart kind of way. I get it. I'm his daughter. His youngest. But this? This felt cruel.
I sighed, leaning my head against the car window, watching the city move around me while my brain chewed itself alive.
I wasn't made for this shit.
I was the girl who stayed in her room all day, scrolling through my phone, writing weird notes about stories I'd never show anyone, and listening to music like my life depended on it.
Not some social butterfly who could smile at strangers and flirt over wine glasses.
And honestly I didn't even need to work. My dad used to be the Chairman of Park Industries, the biggest company in the country. He recently retired, passed the CEO title to Jimin, and now they both ran that empire while I stayed the hell out of it.
I loved them both, truly. They were my only family left. But sometimes... sometimes it hurt.
Dad still treated me like a kid.
Jimin was always the mature one. The golden boy. The heir.
Just the sheltered little sister they refused to let grow up.
Yeah, I won't lie it stung sometimes.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, feeling the burn in my chest as the sun started to sink lower in the sky. It was getting darker now. The streets starting to fill with impatient drivers, people heading home, and me the idiot girl heading toward a dinner date she never fucking asked for.
What a perfect fucking evening.
Just when I thought this shitty evening couldn't get any worse, my phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen, and of course it was Dad.
No one else ever called me anyway.
I mean, I'm an introvert, obviously. I preferred being alone, tucked away in my room with my music and stories. Conversations drained the life out of me most days.
I groaned, leaning my head back against the seat.
Please God, don't let him ask for anything else.
But yeah... how fucking wrong I was.
I swiped the green icon and pressed the phone to my ear.
"Hello, Dad?" I answered, the irritation in my voice clear as I tapped my foot against the car floor.
"Hmm... Y/Nieee, you're not mad at me, right?"
That fake-sweet voice he used whenever he knew he'd pissed me off made me want to roll my eyes into another dimension.
"Oh, no, Dad. Not at all," I replied sarcastically, voice flat as hell.
He chuckled, completely ignoring my tone.
"Well, I called you because I need you to pick up some flowers for Kim Taehyung."
Yeah, apparently that was his name. My first-ever blind date. Never met the guy, never even heard of him until this whole disaster was thrown at me like a bad joke.
I let out a loud, annoyed scoff.
"Dad, are you serious right now?"
"Sweetheart, I know you don't like this. But please, try to understand. My friend's so kind I can't say no to her, you know? Her son's known to me, so I want you to make a good impression, alright?"
His voice was so gentle, so hopeful... and goddammit, it made it hard to stay pissed.
I sighed, nodding like he could see me through the phone.
"Okay, Dad. I'll get him flowers," I mumbled, already dreading it.
"Thank you, Y/N. I love you."
"Love you too, Dad. Bye."
I hung up and tossed my phone on the seat beside me.
Great. Now I had to buy flowers. For some stranger. For my first-ever fucking date. God, I hated this.
I looked out the window, scanning for any flower shops.
"Fucking perfect," I muttered.
Me. Getting flowers. For a stranger. Kill me now.
After what felt like a damn eternity circling these streets, I finally spotted a big flower shop on the other side of the road. Thank fucking god.
I quickly parked my car by the sidewalk, grabbed my phone, and stepped out. The street was busy as hell, cars honking, people rushing around like it was the end of the world. I looked both ways and crossed, weaving through the moving crowd like some rookie character in a video game.
The moment I reached the shop, my mood lifted just a little.
I mean, flowers everywhere. Bright, colorful, and honestly kind of beautiful. I couldn't help but smile to myself, giggling softly like an idiot as I looked at the bouquets lined up.
"Damn, I wish one of these was for me," I mumbled under my breath.
It was for fucking Kim Taehyung. A man I didn't know, never met, and was already beginning to resent on principle.
I looked around, having zero clue which one was right for him.
So I picked my favorite a bouquet of deep red Velvet Roses mixed with black-dyed baby's breath flowers. Dark, intense, dramatic.
Yeah. This feels right. Fuck it.
I brought it up to my nose, sniffed it, and grinned like a child.
Couldn't resist I grabbed my phone and took a quick selfie holding it. If I was gonna suffer tonight, at least I'd look cute.
After paying, I stepped out of the shop, still staring at the picture on my phone like a dumbass, not paying attention to the world around me.
The traffic light showed green for pedestrians.
I started walking, scrolling through my gallery... and that's when I heard it.
A loud screech. Tires skidding. A fucking car coming straight at me.
My heart shot up into my throat.
My mind screamed at me to move but my body didn't listen.
What the fuck. I'm gonna die. Right here. Like this. Holding a goddamn flower bouquet.
My hands clenched tighter around the bouquet, my breathing turned sharp, my skin went cold.
I couldn't move. Couldn't fucking move.
It was like my soul just left my body and I was stuck watching it happen.
I shut my eyes tight, bracing for the hit, already picturing myself splattered on the road like some tragic headline.
I heard the sharp, sudden halt of the car, so close I could feel the heat of the engine against my legs. I forced my eyes open heart pounding, chest tight and there it was. The car. Mere inches away from me.
If that asshole hadn't slammed the brakes right then, I'd be six feet under meeting Jesus.
"What the actual fuck?!" I shouted, rage bubbling up through my panic.
I stormed around the front of the car, heading straight for the driver's side.
"Who the hell drives like this, you piece of shit?!"
I didn't care if it was a man, a woman, a mob boss, or Satan himself. Someone was getting cursed out today.
I swear to God, the amount of anger boiling inside me could've set the whole damn street on fire.
Yeah sure, I was the one speeding like a maniac a while ago, but at least I didn't almost fucking kill anyone.
I was a second away from being roadkill.
I stormed toward the driver's side, my heels clicking against the pavement like gunshots. My heart was still hammering in my chest, but my rage drowned out the panic.
I slammed my hand against the car window.
"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO DRIVE?!"
My voice came out louder than I expected, but I didn't give a shit.
The flowers in my other hand were crushed against my chest, my pulse racing like a goddamn war drum.
"I COULD'VE DIED, YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! WHO TAUGHT YOU TO DRIVE â A BLIND GOAT?!"
I kept knocking on the window, pure fury in every word, ready to rip this guy's head off the second he rolled it down.
"OPEN THE FUCKING WINDOW!" I yelled, barely breathing.
My hands were trembling, my body still frozen in the aftermath of that near-death moment, but the anger made it burn hotter.
I swear, if this bastard cracked even a smug smile, I was launching this bouquet straight at his face.
Just then, the window rolled down.
And I swear for a second, it felt like my soul left my body.
My breath hitched. My mind blanked. Every single curse word I had lined up died on my tongue.
Did that car hit me after all, and this was heaven's way of fucking with me?
Because sitting there behind the wheel was a man so unreal, I swear he could've made angels cry.
Sharp, perfect features like he was carved from sin itself.
Dark hair falling effortlessly over his eyes and those eyes...
Golden brown, sharp, unreadable, like they'd seen things no one should, and yet here he was looking at me like I was the one out of place in his world.
Every nerve ending in my body felt like it'd been set on fire.
"Holy shit..." I muttered under my breath, too stunned to keep the rage alive.
For a second, just a second I forgot why I was even there.
Forgot the damn flowers in my hand.
Because all I could think was one thing:
He's so fucking handsome.
Before I could pull myself together or remember why the hell I was mad, his gaze flicked up to meet mine sharp, unreadable, and cold enough to make my skin prickle.
Deep, low, and soaked in venom, like every word was a fucking threat.
"If you're done standing in the middle of the damn road like a brainless idiot, young lady, " he drawled, eyes narrowing, "move. I don't have time to deal with people who don't value their life."
The sheer fucking audacity.
My jaw clenched so hard I thought I might crack a tooth.
Who the hell did this Greek god-looking, sharp-jawed, leather-seated asshole think he was?
"Excuse me?" I snapped, heat crawling up my neck, my temper lighting up again.
But the bastard didn't even flinch.
And with that, he flicked his gaze back to the road like I was nothing but a minor inconvenience in his day.
I didn't know his name yet, but whoever this smug, arrogant, sinfully gorgeous prick was he just made it onto my shit list.
"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" I screamed.
That face. That maddeningly perfect face. But those eyes? Cold. Unbothered. Like he hadn't nearly fucking killed me just now.
"I don't have time, okay?" he bit out, voice low and sharp like a goddamn knife.
"Get out of my way. I'm already late and not in the mood for some random girl's drama."
I felt my blood boil. Who the fuck did he think he was?
"Don't you think you should fucking apologize, asshole?" I snapped, my glare sharp enough to slit his goddamn throat if looks could kill.
His eyes finally moved to me cold, detached, like I wasn't even a person standing there, just a problem wasting his time.
"Apologize?" he scoffed, voice low and bored, like my anger was the most pathetic thing he'd seen today.
He reached out, pulling a sleek black card from his wallet, holding it out like some cheap fix.
"Take this. Buy whatever the fuck you want. Bill me for your little emotional damage."
I stared at it â at him â fury burning in my chest.
"You know what? Shove that card up your entitled, rich, arrogant ass." I hissed, refusing to take it.
"Use it for someone else you nearly fucking kill next time."
I spun on my heel, not even giving him the satisfaction of another glance, but I could feel his eyes on me. Cold. Unmoved. Like a predator watching prey walk away.
And then the roar of his engine screamed against the road as his car sped off, leaving me in a cloud of dust and rage.
I quickly slid into my car, slamming the door shut as my hands shook. I dropped the flowers carelessly onto the passenger seat, not giving a single shit about them anymore.
What the fuck just happened.
My heart was still racing, chest tight like someone was crushing it with their bare hands. I leaned my head back against the seat, eyes stinging as I swallowed the knot in my throat.
I wasn't bold. I wasn't okay.
That whole act was a fucking lie.
I grabbed my phone with trembling fingers and did the only thing I could think of I called my dad.
The one person who always made it feel like the world wasn't falling apart.
The second he picked up, I lost it.
"Dad..." my voice cracked, breaking on his name as the first tear slipped down my cheek.
His voice instantly tensed, sharp with worry.
"Y/N â what happened? Did someone touch you?! Did he do something?! Tell me!"
I choked on a sob and cut him off.
"I... I was about to cross the road and... that asshole â he almost hit me with his car, Dad... heâhe didn't even care..."
My words stumbled over each other as more tears blurred my vision.
"Aww baby, it's okay. You're okay, right? You didn't get hurt?"
His voice softened, breaking a little like it killed him not to be there.
"No..." I whispered, biting my lip hard to stop the sobs. I looked up at the car roof, trying to hold it in, but it was useless.
"Y/N... sweetheart, do you want me to send Jimin to you? I'll call him right now, he'll come get youâ"
I shook my head even though he couldn't see it.
I can't drag Jimin into this.
I can't let him see me this shattered.
"No... it's okay... I just... I was so scared, Dad... what if... what if I died too... like Mom..."
The last word barely came out, my voice breaking completely.
"Shh no, no, don't say that, baby. Don't even think that. You hear me? You're safe. You're okay."
But I couldn't hold it together anymore.
I cut the call without another word and burst into silent, ugly sobs.
I hated the way my body trembled, the way my mind kept replaying the accident.
I hated how it felt exactly like that night when I lost her.
I hated how close I came to leaving my dad and Jimin alone... just like she did.
And god, I hated myself for being so fucking scared.
I curled up in the driver's seat, hugging my knees to my chest, and let myself break for a while.
Because sometimes, pretending to be strong was the most exhausting thing in the world.
I felt my body go weak. Every muscle ached like I'd just run for miles, but it wasn't my body that hurt.
My dad... he was everything to us.
He was the one who stayed.
I was so small back then.
Barely ten years old when my whole world cracked in half.
I still remember that night like it was stitched into my skin the phone call, the way Jimin grabbed my hand so tight it hurt, the way my dad's face collapsed when they told him.
One second she was here, promising to buy me my favorite ice cream, and the next she was gone.
The memory of her lying in that white hospital room still haunts me.
I didn't get to say goodbye.
Dad was never the same after that.
He raised both of us, alone, in a world that didn't give a shit how small or lost we felt.
My constant crying at night.
The empty seat at the dinner table.
He worked his ass off to give us a life, made sure we never felt unloved, even if it killed him inside.
And now... today... when that car came rushing at me all those years I buried it, pretended I was fine, convinced myself I was over it... it all came crashing back.
I could've left him and Jimin alone.
And fuck... the thought of my dad getting another call like that... it broke me.
I leaned my head against the steering wheel, sobbing so hard my chest hurt.
I hated that I was still that scared little girl deep down.
I hated that even now, after so long, a fucking car could send me spiraling like this.
I didn't wanna leave them.
I just wanted my mom back.
But life doesn't work like that.
And in this city... you either get tougher or it eats you alive.
I stayed like that for a long time, letting myself break, because no one was watching. No one would know.
And maybe tomorrow, I'd plaster a smile on again.
But right now... I just needed to fall apart.
I don't know how long I stayed like that.
Head pressed against the steering wheel, the faint smell of those stupid flowers filling the car, tears blurring my eyes until the world looked like one big, fucked-up watercolor painting.
How grief never really leaves you.
People tell you it gets easier with time. That someday you'll wake up and it won't hurt like it used to. They're liars.
You just learn to carry it quieter.
Laugh a little louder at jokes you don't find funny.
And when no one's watching, you break.
Where no one can see the ugly, messy pieces you keep glued together every damn day.
Ten fucking years old when my whole life turned to ash.
I don't even remember everything about her now.
I hate that the details fade â her laugh, the way she smelled, how her hand felt when she held mine.
But I remember her face that night.
And I remember the way my dad shattered like glass on that hospital floor, trying to hold it together for Jimin and me when he was dying inside.
I swore I'd never make him feel that way again.
Today came so fucking close.
It wasn't about that asshole in the car.
It wasn't even about the flowers or the date or the fact that I'd been forced into it like my feelings didn't mean shit.
It was about the fact that for a split second one sharp, terrifying second I felt like my soul left my body.
Like I was ten again, standing in a hospital corridor, waiting for someone to tell me it was a mistake.
And when that didn't happen, something inside me died.
And it's never come back.
People see me now and they think I'm fine.
A little sharp-tongued, maybe.
No idea what it's like to fall asleep every night wondering what it would be like if she were still here.
If I'd grow up different.
If my dad didn't have to bury the love of his life and then pretend he was okay so we wouldn't fall apart too.
No one talks about what it does to you.
The kind of loneliness that clings to your ribs like smoke.
The fear that any moment, life could rip away the two people you have left and leave you with nothing.
I wiped my face with shaking hands, cursing myself out under my breath.
"Get your shit together, Y/N. No one's coming to save you."
Because that's the truth.
I'm the one who has to survive this life.
And no asshole in a luxury car gets to be the reason I fall apart.
I took a deep breath, reached for my phone, and checked the time.
My eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.
I grabbed a tissue, wiped the streaks away, fixed my lipstick with hands that barely stopped shaking, and forced my face into something that looked like it belonged to someone strong.
I started the car, the soft purr of the engine filling the suffocating silence around me. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, my knuckles pale against the dark leather, but I didn't loosen them. I didn't even try. Because the truth is, I needed to feel something solid beneath my fingertips something real, something steady because everything else felt like it was slipping through my grasp.
The memories, the fear, the grief... it all came rushing back the moment I closed my eyes, like some cruel reminder from a universe that never fucking lets me forget where I come from and what I've lost.
And as the car moved forward, toward that goddamn luxury restaurant where I was expected to play a part I never auditioned for, I realized this wasn't just another evening. This was a test. Another round of pretending, another mask to wear, and maybe deep down a version of myself I didn't even know existed yet.
People think I'm one thing. They see the quiet girl in the corner, the one who doesn't speak unless spoken to, the one who scrolls through her phone to avoid conversations, the one who acts like she's fine because she doesn't want to be someone else's burden.
They think I'm soft, delicate, the fragile daughter of a retired CEO, the little sister of a powerful man, someone to protect, someone too innocent for the weight of this world. And maybe once, years ago, that was true. But I've spent my whole life burying versions of myself no one ever cared to notice. The angry girl. The lonely girl. The girl who cries herself to sleep and then wakes up pretending none of it matters.
The one who doesn't believe in fairytales, in happy endings, in soft love that doesn't hurt. The one who hates God for taking her mother and leaving a hollow space no one's ever managed to fill. And the one who, just an hour ago, nearly got her life stolen by a stranger in a black car who didn't even have the decency to care.
And yet here I was, driving toward a night where I'd have to sit across from another stranger someone my dad trusted, someone important, someone rich and cold and untouchable and act like my skin wasn't still crawling from what had just happened.
I'd have to smile when my heart wasn't in it. I'd have to listen when all I wanted to do was scream. I'd have to be the perfect daughter, the good girl, the polite one, when all I wanted was to be left the fuck alone. But maybe this was me too.
Maybe this version the one who wears too many shades, too many masks, too many goddamn expectations maybe that's the most honest part of me. The one no one talks about. The one I don't show. The one that hides behind sarcasm and a sharp tongue and silence. And maybe tonight, she'd show up too.
I tightened my grip on the wheel, eyes burning as the city lights blurred past me. This was life, wasn't it? A constant test of how much you can take before you finally break. A game you didn't sign up for, but have no choice but to play. I hated it. I hated that I didn't get to choose. That my life, my fate, my goddamn safety, all came second to business deals, friendships, reputations, and old promises made by men who thought their word was worth more than my life.
I hated that one stupid dinner could decide my future, and I hated even more that I didn't have the strength to say no. Because deep down, no matter how many masks I wore, no matter how many sides of myself I swore to hide, I was still that ten-year-old girl waiting for someone to come save her.
And tonight, I'd save my damn self.
Or at least... pretend I could.
I finally made my way toward this big-ass, luxury restaurant like it wasn't a fucking Friday evening and I wasn't already exhausted from almost dying on the road. The whole goddamn building looked like something out of a rich people drama glass walls, shiny lights, expensive-ass cars lined up like some parade of who's-richer-than-who.
My phone showed the message Dad sent earlier... "45th floor, table booked. Be polite." Yeah, right. I swear to God, if this guy turns out to be some rude asshole or a boring fuckboy, I might just push him out the damn window or throw myself down instead. My nerves were wrecked, my stomach flipping for no reason, and somewhere deep down, I couldn't tell if it was fear or excitement. First date ever, and here I was, cussing to myself like a lunatic. Good job, Y/N. Real classy.
I stepped inside the building, the air smelling like money and overpriced perfume. The kind of place where waiters look at you like you don't belong unless you're wearing brands I can't even pronounce. I kept my head high though. Might look like a wreck inside, but no one was gonna see me fold. Not tonight. Not after the shit day I had. My feet moved on their own toward the elevator, nerves twisting tighter in my chest the closer I got.
I swear it felt like my heart was gonna crawl out of my damn throat. As soon as those silver doors slid open, I stepped in, pressing the button for the 45th floor and watching the numbers light up one by one like some countdown to my doom. My reflection in the mirror inside the elevator looked calm, even pretty maybe but only I knew how fucked up my head was right now. First date of my life, and it already felt like a goddamn horror film.
I looked at my table and for a second my brain actually glitched. Why the actual fuck was this whole floor empty? Like dead silent. Not a single soul sitting at any other table. It was like the place had been cleared out for a goddamn mafia meeting or some rich-people Illuminati shit. I frowned, my heels clicking softly against the glossy floor as I made my way toward the only table set up near the giant glass window.
The view was insane the entire goddamn city looked like a toy set from up here, people tiny little dots, cars like glowworms. I felt like I'd walked into some drama scene, and for a second, I almost laughed at how unreal it all felt. A woman in a sharp black suit, probably a manager or something, approached me with a polite smile, and I cleared my throat because yeah maybe I was on the wrong floor. That would be my dumb luck tonight.
"Umm... why's this floor empty?" I asked, raising a brow, half expecting her to tell me I'd walked into a private party or some VIP wedding dinner. But instead she smiled like it was the most normal thing in the world and said.
"Good evening, miss. This floor is reserved for Mr. Kim Taehyung and Miss Park Y/N, by request of Mrs. Kim."
And right there, my stomach dropped. Oh, hell no.
"Oh â I'm Y/N." I replied, forcing a small awkward smile as my head spun because what the actual fuck kind of date needed a whole floor? Who even was this dude? The Queen of England? God himself? Before I could overthink it any harder, the woman gestured politely and said.
"Please, Miss Park, this way," like I was someone important, and my feet somehow followed. The restaurant was too fancy, everything shining like new money, chandeliers looking like they cost more than my life.
She left after that, and I was alone again, sitting by the big-ass window, looking out at the city, the people below tiny and harmless from up here. I chuckled dryly to myself, shaking my head. Were rich people really like this? Clearing out entire floors just for dinner? Damn. I felt so out of place, but something about it made my heart race and not in a good way.
I sighed and grabbed my phone, switching on the front camera because hell no if I was gonna be sitting here alone on a fancy-ass floor like some lost princess in a twisted fairytale, at least I shouldn't look like a complete hoe.
I fixed my hair, running my fingers through the strands, making sure it looked effortless but not too messy, like yeah, I didn't try too hard but I still look like I could ruin your whole life if I wanted to. My eyes scanned my makeup, still holding up pretty decent considering the mini breakdown I had earlier.
I reapplied my lipstick carefully, the soft click of the tube somehow louder in the silence around me. It was a deep shade bold, a little dangerous exactly what I needed to feel a bit less like that terrified girl crying in her car half an hour ago.
The dress hugged me just right, a stunning piece from Alexander McQueen I barely felt worthy of wearing, but my dad insisted.
"Make a good impression, Y/N," he said. Well, here's your good impression, Dad your daughter pretending not to feel like she's about to puke. I leaned back against the chair, tapping my phone against my palm, half wishing the night would end already, half curious about what kind of man Kim Taehyung really was... though if I had to guess, probably another cold, arrogant, spoiled rich asshole like the one who nearly killed me earlier. God, I hated men.
That's when I felt it the sound of the heavy-ass door opening behind me, the soft but sharp click of shoes against the floor like death itself had decided to make an entrance. My stomach twisted, a wave of anxiety slamming into me so hard it made my skin cold.
I got up instantly, heart pounding, my fingers clenching around my phone as I slowly turned around. And holy. Fucking. Shit.
Standing there, like some cruel joke the universe was playing on me, was him.
The same goddamn asshole from the road. The one who nearly turned me into roadkill an hour ago. Dressed in a black tailored suit that probably cost more than my entire existence, looking like a fucking fallen angel with a face carved by demons. My whole brain short-circuited for a second.
"Asshole!!!" I snapped, the word flying out of my mouth before I could stop it.
His face, the one that was stone-cold earlier, actually flickered just for a split second. Like he didn't expect to see me either. Good. Choke on that, motherfucker.
"What the FUCK are you doing here huh?!" I yelled, taking a step toward him.
He scoffed, dark eyes narrowing like I was nothing but an irritating little problem he was too rich to deal with.
"I could ask you the same thing, women." His voice was deep, calm, and cocky as hell. That smug bastard tone men like him were born with.
"Oh, don't you fucking dare," I spat, pointing a shaking finger at him, my voice louder now. "You stalking me, huh? Came here to finish the job? Hit me again? Huh?!"
He moved a step closer, calm as hell, like he owned the air in the room. I swear to god, my heart skipped a beat for all the wrong reasons.
"Stay the fuck away from me! I have pepper spray!" I yelled, reaching into my purse like a goddamn maniac.
And I swear, for the tiniest second, his lips twitched. Like this fucker was actually amused. I could see it. The smugness in his eyes. The challenge. The 'this is going to be fun' kind of look that made my stomach flip in the worst way. "Look, woman â this floor's reserved by my mom, Mrs. Kim Ae-rin." His voice was sharp, cold like he didn't have a single fuck to give.
I took a step closer, pointing right at his ridiculously handsome, asshole face.
"I see it's also reserved for me. I have a fucking date here too, you dickhead! So maybe you should get out before I throw your rich ass out that window!" I snapped, not giving a damn if it was 45 floors high.
Didn't blink. Just gave me that blank, dead-inside look like he was already bored with my existence.
Then his head tilted slightly, and his next words made my stomach drop.
"So... you're Miss Park Y/N?" he asked, voice lower now. Almost taunting.
I swear my soul left my body for a second. My jaw dropped.
"Waitâ what?" I mumbled, eyes narrowing.
"No fucking way. You're... you're Kim Taehyung?"
"You know what? I didn't expect my dad to choose this," I groaned, throwing my hands up.
"Oh God â I'm not having my first date with you. No fucking way!"
He scoffed, leaning back like he owned the air in this damn room.
"Yeah, like I'm dying to have my first date with you, park Y/N."
"Ugh â just call my dad," I snapped, reaching for my phone.
"Tell him you can't make it so we both can get the hell out of this mess."
He gave me a cold, dead stare like I was wasting his oxygen.
"Can't," he said, shrugging.
"My mom ordered me to show up, so I'm here. And since I don't say no to her, neither can you."
Then, without another word, he dropped into the chair opposite me, like this wasn't the most awkward, rage-inducing situation in the entire goddamn world.
Not a single emotion on his face. Like, who even was this man? Did he feel things? Did he blink? Was he born without a soul or was it surgically removed with his god complex?
"You know what, you asshole?" I snapped, leaning in across the table, not giving a damn about how fancy this place was. "Since we're stuck here, you should apologize to me."
His eyes locked on mine a cold, death glare that made my stomach twist for a second. But I held it. Hell no, I wasn't backing down now. "You're the first person to curse at me this much," he muttered, his tone sharp and ice-cold. "So stop it."
I scoffed. "Huh... you deserve every single fucking word. And don't even think about pulling any of your rich boy bullshit with me. I swear to God â one wrong move and I'llâ"
"Pepper spray," he cut in, sighing like he was already exhausted. "Yeah, yeah... you've mentioned."
I clenched my jaw, ready to snap again but then his face changed.
His smirk disappeared, replaced by something cruel, dark... and lowkey insulting.
"And about that apology..." he said, voice low as his fingers tapped the table, "women like you don't deserve it."
He leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing. "I know girls like you. Acting tough, talking big but the moment you see a black card, you'll shut up and take it. So save your drama, young lady."
Then he pulled out his sleek black credit card, slid it toward me without blinking.
"Here. Go buy yourself something nice and stop acting like this isn't about money."
For the fucking second time, this arrogant bastard pulled that black card shit like I didn't have one of my own.
I glared at him, pure murder in my eyes. My blood was boiling, my jaw tight.
I leaned in, grabbed that damn card off the table, and snapped:
"Listen here, you rich, cold-blooded, Greek god-looking asshole. I don't need your fucking money. I ain't one of those gold-digging, fake-ass bitches you probably keep on speed dial. I was raised better than that. I've had my own black card since I was eighteen, motherfucker. So take your precious little card and shove it right up your entitled, arrogant ass."
Then I slammed the card back in front of him, hard enough to make the water glass shake.
"And for the record, Kim Taehyung... if I wanted to ruin your life, I wouldn't need a damn credit card. I'd just use my words."
I sat back in my chair, crossed my arms, and stared him down like I was ready to drag his whole bloodline next.
Just stared at me like I was a damn insect buzzing too loud.
Then, he leaned forward, voice low and sharp like a blade slicing through glass.
"Cute speech, Y/N," he murmured.
"But you don't scare me. In fact, the louder you get, the more pathetic you look. I've dealt with bigger threats than you before breakfast."
His eyes darkened pure, cold steel.
"And for the record," he said, slowly taking his card back without breaking eye contact, "if you think your little attitude makes you special... it doesn't. This city's filled with women like you. Mouthy. Emotional. Drowning in daddy's money, pretending to be tough."
He smirked then but it wasn't playful. It was cruel.
"You wanna ruin me? Get in line."
And with that, he leaned back in his chair, looking utterly bored like I wasn't even worth the fight.
I swear to fucking God, my blood was boiling so hard I could hear it in my ears.
Who the fuck did this man think he was?
I leaned forward, matching his cold stare with pure fury, my voice low, sharp, and steady the kind of calm before a storm that leveled cities.
"You know what, Kim Taehyung?" I hissed.
"You might run this city, but you don't fucking run me. I don't give a shit how many billions are rotting in your fucking bank or how many desperate women would sell their souls to sit where I'm sitting. I'm not them."
I smirked, leaning in so close our faces were inches apart.
"And trust me, boy... the only thing pathetic in this room is a grown-ass man so empty inside he has to treat everyone like shit just to feel something."
His jaw clenched. His eyes flickered for a split second something sharp and dangerous but I didn't care. I was on a roll now.
Just then, both our phones dinged at the same time.
The sound cut through the thick air between us like a blade.
I darted my eyes to the screen on the table.
"Hope you're controlling that sharp tongue of yours, sweetheart. Remember to be respectful."
I rolled my eyes so hard I swear they almost got stuck.
Respect? To this walking ego trip? For fuck's sake, Dad...
Out of habit, I glanced up only to see Taehyung reading a message on his phone too. His jaw flexed, and a slow, mocking smirk tugged at his lips.
Before I could look away, he caught me peeking and tilted his phone toward me, making sure I saw it.
"You better behave with her, Tae. She's a sweet girl, okay? Or else..."
I scoffed, shaking my head as I stared at him.
"You really don't know how to talk to people, do you?"
He raised his brow, looking completely unbothered. "I don't need to."
"Yeah, it shows." He leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking toward the window like he was already done with this conversation.
"Look, let's just get through this. I don't care what you do, what you like, or what sad little hobby you have. I'm here because my mother wouldn't shut up about it, not because I give a shit about your life story."
I scoffed, offended but somehow not surprised.
"Right back at you. The only thing I know about you is you drive like an asshole, and apparently, you're rich. End of story."
He looked at me, his gaze sharp like always, and I shot him a glare in return.
"I can't believe you're Jimin's sister."
The way he said it half disbelief, half judgment made my brow twitch.
"How do you even know him?" I asked, folding my arms.
He shrugged like it was nothing.
"He's my best friend. Or... used to be. Guess you could still call it that."
"What the fuck? Seriously?"
"We've known each other since we were kids. Same school. Same fights. Same shitty basketball team."
"Huh. Well... okay then. I don't remember you."
I paused for a second before scoffing.
"Actually... makes sense. I didn't go to the same school as him."
His brow arched slightly, like he wasn't expecting that.
It felt so fucking weird. Dates were supposed to be romantic, right? Candlelight, cheesy compliments, stolen glances.
Not this... cold, stiff-ass tension where one person wouldn't even look up from his goddamn phone.
I sighed, glancing at the time and stabbing my fork into the dessert like it insulted me.
He hadn't said a word in twenty minutes.
"You're not gonna eat anything?" I asked, raising a brow.
Came the deadpan reply, eyes still glued to his screen.
I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Your loss."
Then took a big bite of the chocolate dessert and holy shit. It was heaven. Rich, smooth, stupidly good.
A small moan slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
"Mmmâfuck, this is good." I groaned softly.
When I looked up, he wasn't on his phone anymore.
Taehyung was staring straight at me.
Not cold. Not amused. Just staring.
I raised a brow, wiping my mouth with a napkin until I saw him move.
He stood up, stepped around the table, and before I could react, leaned down, his hand reaching out.
His thumb brushed the corner of my lips.
Our eyes locked, neither of us moving.
For a moment, the room felt like it was holding its breath.
Then he pulled away like nothing happened.
Sat back down, picked up his phone again, and scrolled.
After a few painfully silent minutes, the waiter finally came over with the bill.
I looked up, already reaching for my bag.
It only made sense. I was the one who ate he didn't touch a damn thing except that phone.
And besides... his mother was the one who reserved this whole place for us. Least I could do was cover my dessert and dignity.
I pulled out my card, ready to hand it over when â of fucking course â he beat me to it.
Taehyung slid his sleek, black card across the table without even blinking, not sparing me a glance.
The waiter bowed politely and took it.
I scowled, tossing my card back in my bag and pushing my chair out.
Before I could open my mouth, he stood.
"I was about to pay, asshole."
I snapped, glaring up at him.
He gave me a look the kind that could kill weaker people.
Cold, unreadable, and so fucking irritating.
"Good thing I didn't let you. Would've been embarrassing."
He muttered, adjusting his watch.
I shot back, following him toward the elevator.
"I don't owe you shit. You didn't even eat. That was my dessert, you cold bastard."
"You really don't shut up, do you?"
At least he knew who should pay.
I didn't expect anything better from him, but still whatever.
I grabbed my bag, ready to storm out and forget this bullshit night when suddenly, he reached for the table. My eyes darted up.
He picked up the flower bouquet I'd completely forgotten about.
Held it in one hand like it was nothing.
"Thanks for getting me flowers... Y/N."
He said, voice low and casual but there was something in his eyes.
Something I couldn't fucking name, and it made my stomach flip.
That same smug, cocky, cold-ass smirk.
And turned, walking ahead toward the door.
I stood there for a second, heart racing like a dumb idiot.
I muttered under my breath, feeling those damn butterflies flutter where they absolutely should not.
And neither of them knew it yet... but every collision was one step closer to a war neither could survive, and a desire neither could outrun.
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