Lynaâs features donât soften even marginally as the man who clearly thinks himself charming explains with a self-satisfied smile that they were only having a pleasant conversation, that thereâs no reason for her to act like this. By that he means sheâs interfering with his great plan. By that he means sheâs overreacting. Crazy. Sheâs been called that a lot lately.
âIsnât that right, Sooyeon?â He tries to lean to the side to peer over Lynaâs shoulder, but sheâs quick to mirror his movements and block his view again.
âWeâre having a conversation right now, you and me,â she reminds him.
Sheâs a statue of a woman, with hardened gaze and a petrified smile, which no one but the original artist knows the meaning of and she wonât tell.
A burning anger manifests in his eyes, but she knew that was coming. They tend to react with anger when they donât get what they want, like children who never learned that things arenât theirs just because they touched them. Just because they want them.
Patiently, she waits for him to lash out, as she knows he wants to.
Cast your stones. Youâll only ever scratch the surface.
Her own scandal is a weapon she carries with herself everywhere that too many have used against her before. This time, she pulls it first. Itâs hers. Why shouldnât she be able to wield it?
âHavenât you heard? Iâm bad news. You wouldnât want to make headlines for getting into an argument with me now, would you?â
Itâs true that a scandal would undoubtedly affect him less than her, but they both know that she canât fall much farther right now, and those who donât have anything to lose are always the scariest.
Sheâs done talking, so she turns her back to him. Itâs rude, sure, but arenât they long past that point anyways?
âAre you okay?â, she asks Sooyeon instead, her tone infinitely gentler to make up for the fact that she doesnât quite feel safe enough to back away from her just yet. The last thing she wants is to scare her, too.
Cautiously, as if asking permission to touch her at all, Lyna places a warm hand on Sooyeonâs upper arm.
âCan I take you somewhere? To your manager?â
lyna is a woman alight with the roaring fire of her rage, and beside her, sooyeon feels warmer and warmer with every word out of her mouth, until every ounce of the cold dread thatâd gripped her is replaced with anger thatâs threatening to boil over. sooyeon sets her jaw, glowering at him with the same, if not more, intensity. donât touch me ever again-- donât talk, look, or even exist in my general vicinity, asshole.Â
thereâs an indifference, almost bordering ease, in the way lyna wields her scandal against him, and damn, sooyeon wants to be lyna when sheâs grown up. she wonders if the coolness comes with age-- probably not.Â
the senior sputters at lynaâs perceived rudeness in turning her back on him, and sooyeon has to tamp the urge to blow a raspberry at him down. she asks sooyeon if sheâs okay, and shit, so thatâs genuine concern. a far cry from the artificial, syrupy sympathy heâd offered. âyeah.âÂ
she canât resist. âwish i could say itâs been a pleasure working with you, but... i really canât.â sooyeon doesnât afford him even a sarcastic smile, instead fixing him with a look like heâs dog poop sheâd had the misfortune of stepping on. sheâs not quite brave enough yet to stick around for the fallout of that comment, though, and briskly marches off with lyna in tow. when sooyeonâs sure theyâre out of sight and earshot, she expels a breath she hadnât even realised sheâd been holding.
âwow, fuck that guy. but like, not like that, because heâd only be so lucky to, but like, oh my god. holy shit.â sooyeon wrings her hands, her nervous energy fighting to find an outlet and finding one in rambled english. âyou were so cool, thank you so much, i was so scared, you were so... wow!â