deus ex machina

自由奔放 путешественник。 28

[kayuekou]

how it feels when you're neglecting your favorite fanfic and or tag and or your own work because you have real life responsibilities and you physically can't open the fic without going insane

[hip-nautics]

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Chapter 7 - “Night Shift”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The yellow light in the small kitchen casts a warm glow over the textbooks and notes scattered across your low folding table. Inside the old apartment's entrance, a line of shoes sits near your cramped study space. You look across at Ha-Eun, the timid freshman whom you are currently tutoring. Her mother had quietly set down a small plate of sliced apples with a shy, apologetic smile when you arrived.

“Thank you for coming out so far,” she had said. “Most tutors don’t want to come all the way out here.”

“Sure. I don’t mind,” you responded, glancing out the darkened window. “I was just surprised that someone actually commuted to school from here every day.”

“It’s cheaper for Ha-eun to commute than to pay for housing,” she had explained quietly.

“I think we can stop here for the night,” you say now, closing the heavy textbook and offering Ha-eun a small, encouraging smile. “Great job today.”

“Thank you for helping me,” she replies in a small voice.

Outside, the cold air nips at your face while you pull up the bus schedule on your phone. This tutoring gig was only supposed to be for some extra pocket money and to add a boost to your resume, but a twinge of regret runs through you as you realize the bus has just left. The next one wasn’t arriving for another twenty minutes. Might as well walk, you think as you stare at the dark, empty street. Tightening your backpack straps, you brace yourself for the long, freezing trek back to your apartment.

After twenty minutes, your leg muscles are screaming. As you finally reach the bright commercial strip just outside the campus gates, your eyes are heavy with fatigue. The glowing neon sign of a 24-hour convenience store catches your eye, and you decide you deserved a drink. You push the glass door open, the bell chiming softly.

The store is bright with white light, and smells like instant ramyeon. At this late hour, you are its only customer. When you glance toward the checkout counter, your heartbeat freezes immediately. Sieun is there. He is sitting on a small plastic stool behind the counter, his head down as he concentrates on a textbook that is opened in front of him. 

He looks up as he notices you, his deep, ink-black eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling, instantaneous focus. The harsh, fluorescent lighting overhead casts harsh shadows on his face, and somehow only emphasizes the sharpness of his features: the slope of his nose, the curve of his jawline. 

"I didn't know you had a part-time job," you breathe, stepping closer to the counter, as if drawn in by some magnetic pull. A wave of realization washes over you. This is why he’s always sleeping in class. You remember the way he always drops his head into his folded arms the second he sits down in Social Psych class in the mornings. He works the night shift.

His steady, obsidian gaze tracks you as you move. "Now you know." He tilts his head slightly, scanning your rumpled clothes, wind swept hair, and the redness of your cheeks after being out in the biting cold. "What are you doing out at this hour?"

You let out a small, defeated sigh. "I was tutoring a freshman over at her place. I had just missed the bus and the next one wasn't coming for twenty minutes, so I figured I might as well just walk home."

Sieun’s eyes narrow slightly, his brow furrowing into that faint crease that you have become so familiar with. He glances up at the digital clock over the entrance, then back down at you. "Wait here. My shift is ending now anyway. I'll walk you home."

Before you can respond, he disappears behind the back door of the store, where another tired-looking student emerges to take over his shift.

You stand by the register, your heart flipping against your ribs. His presence still lingers in the space behind the register, making you hyper-aware of your own breathing.

A minute later, the back room door swings open. Sieun walks back out, the navy store vest being replaced by a dark hoodie. When he steps up to you, he is holding a warm, plastic-wrapped gimbap roll, a cup of ice, and a pouch of sweet tea. He extends his arm, holding them out to you, as he moves closer into your space. You tense up instinctively.

"Eat," he commands softly, his low voice a little more gruff than usual. Your heart does another flip.

As you reach out to take them, the tips of his long, slender fingers brush against yours for a brief, but agonizing second. An electric shock spikes through your arm, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Your eyes snap up to him, and find that his dark eyes are wide and burning with a sudden raw, unexpected intensity. Your heart hammers against your ribs, and heat spreads from your neck to the tips of your ears. You are acutely aware of how close he is standing, and you can smell the faint scent of laundry detergent drifting off his clothes.

You swallow hard, turning towards the window counter to pour your tea. You tear the top of the tea pouch before pouring it over the crackling ice, using it as an excuse to escape the gravity of his gaze. 

He pushes the glass door open, the chime ringing out and piercing the quiet air as you both step into the late autumn chill.

The two of you begin walking in silence. The streetlights overhead cast long shadows over the pavement, painting the empty sidewalks in alternating patches of amber and dark gold. You expect the silence to feel awkward—after all, the two of you barely know each other still—but as you move shoulder-to-shoulder, his quiet presence feels strangely calming. You realize the nonstop, chaotic thoughts that have been filling up your brain since the Helix party begin to quiet down just by being near him.

The sheer proximity of him starts to take over your mind: every time his shoulder shifts, you find yourself tracking the movement through the corner of your eye. He walks with a slow, deliberate pace, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. You are hyper-aware of the small distance between your upper arms, the jackets of your sleeves nearly touching as the two of you continue walking to your apartment.

“The gambling app,” Sieun murmurs after a long while, breaking into the heavy, but calm, silence that had settled between the two of you. You turn your head, your eyes widening slightly.

“I’ve seen something like that before.” His gaze remains fixed on the road ahead.

“What?” you say, completely caught off guard both by what he is saying and the fact that he broke the silence first.

“I’ve seen it before,” he repeated. “...Back when I was in high school. In my old neighborhood. There was a rigged gambling app... a local crew used it to target desperate teenagers. Students who needed money, or kids who just wanted to fit in."

Your chest grows tight; anxiety starts creeping into your veins. Sieun’s expression darkens. You suddenly feel both a strange thrill and a deep yearning: Who was this boy, exactly? Was Minseo right about his mysterious, tumultuous past after all? You realize you are longing to know. You want to understand what put that stormy look in his eyes the other day in class.

"They let them win a little at first," Sieun continues, his voice dropping into a rough, dark tone you hadn’t heard before. His arm accidentally brushes against yours as he speaks, the brief friction sending another wave of heat straight through your skin. 

“Get them addicted, and then strip them clean until they were forced to do whatever the gang wanted just to clear the debt.” His eyes drop, his laser focus stare now aimed at the ground.

Meanwhile, your eyes widen as a realization dawns on you. “Jiho. The “deliveries”. So is he doing them for some gang so he can clear his debt? I knew something felt off about them.”

Sieun’s dark eyes flicker back up to yours. “I don’t know who’s behind this gambling app.” He pauses briefly, before continuing in a low voice. “A few weeks ago, Daehyun approached me in the engineering lab. He asked me to help him code a specific backend algorithm for a platform he claimed he was developing for a startup.” 

By now, your pace has slowed, and the distance between you has somehow gotten shorter and shorter. With every movement, the sleeves of your jackets graze against each other, turning the casual contact into a steady, electric hum that vibrates between your arms.

“He offered me elite social networking and other unspecified 'favors' in exchange,” Sieun continued.

“And?” you breathe, your heart thumping.

“I refused. I didn't know what the app actually was back then. I just didn't like the look on his face. But in class the other day, after hearing you and Minseo talk about what happened at the party, I realized what he actually wanted from me. They needed someone to program the rigged odds for the gambling system so it wouldn't look suspicious.” He stops walking suddenly, his brows stitching together for a brief moment. 

“I’m just not sure if Daehyun is actually the one behind the app, or if he’s just the errand boy for someone else.” He starts walking again, and you fall into step beside him.

"And the deliveries?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper as you dart closer to him to avoid a cracked, uneven patch of sidewalk, your shoulders pressing briefly together. The contact is electric and distracting. You struggle to re-anchor your thoughts back to the conversation at hand. "And other favors? What kind of favors do you think they are?"

"The kind that keep you trapped," Sieun says flatly.

The buildings begin to look more familiar as you finally turn down the narrow street leading to your apartment complex. The empty road stretches ahead, bathed in the pale, cold moonlight. The strange tension that had been hovering between the two of you all night begins to melt away as you stop outside the main entrance of your building, turning to face him. 

"You and Minseo…be careful," he murmurs softly, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he studies you. “If something shady is going on, it’s best if the two of you lay low. Especially if you guys still plan on digging into it.”

You blink, your pulse racing, the physical proximity making your throat go dry. "Y-yeah, okay. We will. I just... I don't like seeing people who are already desperate being taken advantage of."

"I know," Sieun says, his voice carrying a strange, heavy weight. He takes a slow breath before his eyes drop briefly to your lips, his dark lashes brushing his cheeks. 

The air vanishes from your chest as you find yourself being pulled in by the gravity of his presence, the raw intellect behind his beautiful eyes, and the dark mystery of a past that clearly still haunts him.

Sieun looks down at your hands, then back up to your eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he takes his hand out of his pocket, his knuckles accidentally skimming the fabric of your sleeve as he begins to turn away. The brief, accidental touch feels heavy and charged. He looks at you for one last, long second, before briefly scanning your building and the quiet, empty street surrounding it.

"Go inside," he says softly, his voice dropping to a low, quiet command that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's freezing."

He doesn't wait for your response before he turns on his heel and walks away, his quiet footsteps tapping a slow, rhythmic beat against the pavement as he retreats into the dark night. 

You stay rooted to the spot by the entrance, finding yourself once again staring after his retreating figure. Moonlight reflects off of his straight black hair as he melts into the shadows. When he fully disappears, the sudden quiet he leaves behind feels heavy, making your chest tighten. You stand there with your heart hammering against your ribs, suddenly realizing just how completely he’s taken over your thoughts.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒let's ignore that canon Sieun probably would've gotten a scholarship and wouldn't be working at a convenience store...I just really like this setting. Also, slow-burn romance is pretty hard to write. Hehe. Sorry.

taglist ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒@soldantae

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Chapter 6 - “Repayment”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Morning light filters weakly through the high windows of the lecture hall, illuminating dust motes that hang over rows of empty desks. The room is only a quarter full as students continue to filter in with soft chatter, the rustle of notebooks, and the thud of backpacks hitting the floor. Three rows behind you, the crinkle of a convenience store plastic bag breaks the silence as someone unrolls a breakfast gimbap.

Beside you, Sieun is asleep, arms folded beneath his head, a few strands of his silky midnight hair catching the morning rays as they fall over the sleeve of his jacket.

Minseo storms in, a whirlwind of motion that completely disrupts the quiet hum of the classroom, and drops into the seat next to you. 

“Guess what. You are not going to believe this,” she says breathlessly. “I caught up with Jiho again yesterday.” 

“The guy from the party?” you say, your eyes widening slightly. The guy who was talking to Daehyun before his public meltdown.

“Yes. So, remember how I told you that when I caught up with him at the party, he was crying hysterically about losing everything to a gambling app?” Minseo leans forward. “Well, yesterday, he was like, super calm about it all.”

You flip open to a blank page in your notebook, pen poised at the top of the paper. Ever since the party, a subtle, creeping sense of dread had started slowly spreading in the back of your mind. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the strange anomalies cropping up around campus lately aren't just isolated coincidences. The missing students, the public breakdowns, the vagueness of the students in the interviews; they are like scattered fragments of a puzzle you can’t quite piece together. 

“So anyway,” Minseo continued. “I asked him why he was so calm after he basically lost all his money. He said that when he first started using it, he would win a lot. So, he just kept gambling, thinking that he’d eventually earn back what he started losing.” She starts unzipping her backpack and begins digging through it before speaking again.

“Apparently, half the campus is using it. And like, not just the broke students. Everyone. Business majors. Athletes. Everyone.” She pulls out her audio recorder now, with a slightly sheepish grin on her face. “Before you yell at me, I know I wasn’t supposed to record him.”

“Minseo,” you sighed. You scribble a few hurried notes onto the paper. Kim Jiho. Gambling app. Half the campus??

“I mean, you’re taking notes, aren’t you?” she points out, flipping the recorder on. 

You pause, pen hovering over Jiho's name. “Yeah,” you murmur finally, your voice dropping as you lean a fraction closer to her desk. “Not for your article though. Anyway, let’s hear it. Keep the volume down.”

Muffled voices begin to play from the tiny speaker, competing with the static of wind and background noise.

“...anyway, I got offered a way to earn back my money,” Jiho's voice hums through the static. “Like, a job, pretty much. A delivery job.”

“Who offered it to you?” Minseo’s recorded voice asks, sharp and pressing.

A long silence follows. Through the rustle of the microphone, you can almost picture Jiho shrugging. “Just… a friend of a friend,” he finally mutters.

“What are you delivering? Packages?” Minseo pushes.

Another pause. “Not sure,” Jiho murmurs. “Food, I assume.”

The recording abruptly cuts to dead silence. “He said he had to go right after that. He wouldn't give me anything else,” Minseo says, clicking the device off.

For a moment, you don’t say anything as you process the contents of the short audio clip. “Didn’t he sound a little…nervous?” you say, feeling as if you yourself are the apprehensive one.

“I mean…maybe a little?” Minseo says, eyeing you. “Probably just nervous about starting a new job. When I first found him, like I said, he was pretty calm. Excited, even, about making his money back.” She tucks the recorder back into her backpack.

You notice that at some point, Sieun has lifted his head from his arms. His face is fully visible now, a few messy black strands framing his dark eyes, which are positively stormy. His jaw tightens ever so slightly before he abruptly puts his head back down again.

Your heart skips a beat as you stare at the crown of his raven hair before Professor Choi’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Folks, we are discussing Social Exchange Theory today. As noted in your reading assignment…”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The lecture ends with a decisive click of the projector, and the classroom immediately erupts with movement. Minseo yaps away as you pack your things; beside you, Sieun shifts his weight, his dark head dropping back into his folded arms. 

A minute or two later, the door of the classroom swings open. Your gaze flickers up automatically. It is Jeong Siwoo. He carries a manila folder tucked loosely beneath one arm, a few loose pages sticking slightly out of the side. One of the pages shifts when he steps through the doorframe, briefly exposing a bold header that reads: 

Budget Glossary - Office of Fiscal Planning and Analysis

You barely register the text before the pages disappear back into place under his elbow. Siwoo steps past the front row, his eyes scanning the lectern. “Professor Choi?” he calls in a velvety tone.

At first, nobody answered. Then, a student packing their laptop near the front finally glances up meekly. “He already left.”

Siwoo nods smoothly, flashing a polite smile. “Thanks.”

As he turns to leave, his eyes briefly scan the lingering students in the room. Then, they land directly on Sieun, and remain there. The stillness of the two of them contrast sharply with the slow, but steady, movement of the packing up students around them. Sieun has already lifted his head, his dark eyes locked directly onto the Helix president. There is no hostility on his face; he is simply looking back at Siwoo, expression completely unreadable. One second passes. Then two. Finally Siwoo looks away first, turning on his heel and exiting back into the hallway.

A strange feeling ripples through you. “Do they know each other?” you whisper.

Minseo glances toward the closed door briefly and shrugs. “Probably.”

“How?” you ask quietly.

“It's Siwoo,” she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder as if that explains everything. “He knows everyone.”

You follow her out into the bright, crowded hallway. Students flood out of the neighboring classrooms, moving in slow currents through the corridor. Minseo is still talking rapidly, the discussion of Jiho long forgotten as she shifts the topic to what she wants to order for lunch. 

Suddenly, Minseo stops in front of a crowded bulletin board just outside the classroom. “Hey look,” she says playfully. “We should send this to Soojin.”

You nearly walk straight into her back, taking a quick step to the side. “What?”

She points to a freshly pinned flyer:

Peer Tutors Needed – Academic Success Center.

As Minseo launches into a new tangent about great tutoring looks on a résumé, and how she wished she was smart enough to tutor, your mind drifts. You stand in front of the board, distracted, still thinking about Kim Jiho and the gambling app. You think about him losing all his money, and the mysterious "deliveries" he was forced to make just to survive. Absent-mindedly, your fingers reach out to the bottom of the flyer. Your thumb hooks around one of the perforated contact tabs at the bottom, and with a quiet, mindless tear, you rip the email address away, crumpling the tiny piece of paper into your palm while Minseo continues to chatter beside you. 

The two of you start your journey down the hallway again, but after three steps, a familiar, nagging prickle of intuition stops you. You pat the outer pocket of your bag, your fingers meeting a hollow space where the shape of your notebook should be. Your notes. The ones you made on Kim Jiho, the gambling app, and the deliveries. You realize they are still sitting on the classroom desk. You grimace, stopping in the middle of the hallway traffic. 

“Go ahead without me. I forgot something.”

Minseo stops and turns toward you. “Again? Seriously, Y/N?”

“Just go. I'll catch up.”

She lets out a twinkling laugh, shaking her head as she turns back around and disappears into the sea of students. You spin on your heel, pushing against the flow of the crowd to head back to the lecture hall. 

When you slide through the classroom door, the first thing you notice is that Sieun is still sitting in his exact spot at the desk. The second thing you notice is that he isn't packing his bag. Your notebook is open between his forearms, the white pages stark against the dark wood of the desk. He isn't flipping through the pages. He is just staring. Reading. Studying.

You freeze in the doorway for a fraction of a second. The sheer stillness of his concentration makes your breath catch. 

“Those are mine,” you croak, your voice breaking as you step forward slowly.

Sieun lifts his gaze slowly, his dark, beautiful eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling calmness. “I know.”

You walk over to him, the soft tapping of your shoes echoing lightly. Standing over his desk, you glance down at your notes. In the middle of your messy handwriting, two black marks catch your eye. The word deliveries is circled twice thick, inky marks that you don't remember making. 

Air escapes from your lungs as your eyes flicker between him and the paper. Until this exact second, he has always seemed entirely detached. Just an aloof, quiet, solitary boy who was impossible to read. But looking at the circled word, you realize he has been noticing everything. 

“I thought you were sleeping,” you murmur.

Sieun glances back down at the notebook, the long fringe of his bangs curving over his brow. “I was.”

The rest of the empty lecture hall seems to completely evaporate. A heavy, magnetic awareness settles between you. Standing this close to him, your brain is forced to notice small details that you usually are able to brush off. The sleeve of his grey sweater is pushed up slightly, exposing the pale, smooth skin of his forearm and the delicate line of his wrist. You notice the faint crease between his dark brows—the universal sign of deep concentration. 

Then, his gaze drops to the bottom of the page before tracking back up to your face, scanning you with a quiet, intense observation.

“You wrote down the same thing three times,” he says softly.

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

With one slender finger, he turns the notebook a fraction of an inch toward you. Sure enough, you had paraphrased the same concept three separate times: repayment through deliveries, earn it back, work it off.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your voice dropping, unsure of what else to say.

Sieun pauses a beat, his dark eyes holding yours captive. “Because this bothers you.”

The air in your throat turns to ice. It isn't just that he is right; it's the fact that he is able to analyze your anxiety bleeding through your handwriting.

Neither of you moves. You trace the edge of the paper with your thumb, trying to anchor yourself.

“I…I just don't think doing these deliveries is actually going to solve anything for him,” you whisper, looking down at the scribbled notes.

After a small pause, he reaches out to close the notebook, electric currents radiating out as his fingers come just millimeters from yours. “Probably not.”

“Then why would he agree to do it?”

A heavy silence stretches between you, though it isn’t uncomfortable or awkward.

“Because,” he says huskily as he looks at you through his dark lashes, “somebody offered him a way out.”

You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “You think he’s in trouble.”

“You do,” he responds, his eyes refusing to let you look away.

“Shouldn’t I? Something’s off about all this.”

“Most people probably would’ve stopped caring about him after the party,” he says, his voice carrying a strange weight as he leans back slightly, his gaze lingering on your face.

He studies your face for one last second before quietly standing up in a single, fluid motion, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. As he steps past you into the narrow aisle, his shoulder brushes lightly against yours, sending a sudden, electric shock of warmth through your arm.

“See you tomorrow,” he says softly, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

He steps around you and walks toward the door. You remain frozen by the desk, staring after his retreating figure, your eyes tracing the straight line of his shoulders under his loose grey sweater. The door closes behind him with a definitive click; your chest tightens with a strange, nameless feeling.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒double post today! :3

taglist ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒@soldantae

[hip-nautics]

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Chapter 5 - “Debt”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You slide the key out of the lock and ease the door shut until you hear a soft click. The apartment is quiet at first. Then, you hear faint echoes of sobs coming from Hana’s room. She’s back. There is a battle between your desire to respect her privacy and the urge to check on her after being away for so many days. Eventually, your concern for her wins out, and you decide to check on her.

Tapping the door gently, you call out in a low voice. “Hana? Is everything okay?” You hear a pause in the sobs. A moment later, the door cracks open a few inches, framing Hana’s tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.

“Y/N, hi. I’m sorry,” she says shakily.

“What happened? Is everything alright?” You cautiously take one step forward.

“Y-yeah, it’s nothing,” she hiccups, retreating back into the room.

“You can tell me, it’s alright,” you reassure gently. You two make your way to her bed and sink into the edge of the soft mattress.

“It’s…my dad,” she says between shaky breaths. “His chronic kidney failure is getting worse. He’s back in the hospital, and he needs dialysis. That’s why I’ve been gone for so many days. He needed a caretaker, and my mom can’t miss work.” She pauses, a small sob escaping her before pulling herself back together to continue. “...Our insurance plan won’t even cover half the treatment cost. We’re…going into debt.” The sobs break out in earnest now, tears spilling over the edge of her eyes. Her breathing quickens, and her words tumble out in a desperate rush. “I-my sister, sh-she’s too young to work or take care of my dad, but I had to come back to school because they gave me a warning for missing too many classes, but I don’t even know if I can even stay in school or not or if I might have to drop out because we can’t afford the tuition anymore, but I worked so hard to get here and –”

“Hey, take it easy,” you cut in gently, placing a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure there’s a way to figure this out. I’ll help you.”

Hana’s sobs redoubled, and you let her head fall heavy on your shoulder. For a long time, you both sat in complete silence on the edge of the bed. You didn't say a word, simply holding her while she let all of her pain out.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

Later, you and Minseo are sitting on the couches in the Student Center, your laptops and textbooks sprawled between you. You briefly recount the morning’s events to her.

“Hmm,” Minseo taps a pen against her chin, pondering. “Let’s take her to the Financial Aid office. Maybe they have some sort of emergency grant for students with medical emergencies or something.”

“Okay,” you agree. I’ve never heard of anything like that, but it’s worth a try, you think. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“That really does suck, though,” Minseo sighs, leaning back into the cushions. “I would say she’s the perfect candidate to interview for my article, but I’ll cut her a break. Poor girl sounds like she needs one.”

You hum in agreement.

Later, a loud, familiar voice interrupts your study session.

 “Yo, newspaper girl. And new girl,” Daehyun saunters up to the couch, a cocky grin already on his face.

Minseo lets out a heavy groan, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling before she even looks up from her textbook.

“You know, you guys have spent so much time interviewing miserable students,” Daehyun says, leaning casually against the back of the sofa. “You should actually interview some successful ones for once. There’s a Helix mixer on Friday. Open invite,” he says casually.

You and Minseo exchange a quick look. “And why would I want to be surrounded by elitist snobs?” Minseo asks dryly.

“I just said why,” Daehyun responds smoothly.

“...That’s not really in the scope of my article.”

“Your call. But it would be a good opportunity to network with some people who actually matter,” he says, flashing a persuasive grin.

“How are you able to invite us anyway? Don’t tell me you’re actually a member of Helix?” she asks.

“I’m not,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “I just hang around them for the networking and connections. They’ve helped me secure summer internships in the past. Being a business major is all about knowing the right people,” he nods matter-of-factly.

“So you know Jeong Siwoo then?” Minseo asks.

“Of course. Everyone knows Siwoo.” Daehyun shrugs one last time, effectively closing the subject. “Anyway, hope to see you there,” he says, throwing a cheerful wave over his shoulder before walking away.

After talking it over, you both decide the party was worth checking out. Helix parties were notoriously exclusive, so Minseo figured it would be a good opportunity to get a contrasting angle for her piece—a glimpse into the world of the ultra-connected, ultra-rich elite. But as you stared at your textbook, a heavy weight settled in your chest. Your academic life was mostly back on track, a minor miracle after your previous mental breakdowns. Yet your emotional life felt like it was unraveling by a thread. You couldn't shake the unsettling realization that everyone around you was barely holding it together.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

After your afternoon classes, you and Minseo wait for Hana outside the Financial Aid office. Among you, stressed students frantically fill out paperwork and mutter tiredly into their phones. Your eyes drift to the bulletin board next to you. A bright, black-and-red flyer catches your attention.

“Join Helix Leadership Society Today! Take your future into your hands.

Peer Mentoring

Career & Internship Networking

Student Leadership Initiatives”

  A quiet, argumentative voice then cuts through the otherwise hushed sounds of the office.

“I submitted the paperwork weeks ago,” a student pleads.

“You just have to wait for processing.” The administrator barely looks up from her computer, the cold blue light reflecting off her glasses.

“I can’t!” The student wails.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing more I can do,” the administrator says flatly.

A soft whimper escapes the student before they spin around and bolt out the double doors.

Hana finally steps out of the office, her expression tired and unreadable. “How’d it go?” you ask, falling into step beside her as the three of you push through the heavy exit doors.

“They helped me submit the financial aid application forms,” Hana says quietly. “But the processing time is four to six weeks.”

You step closer to her, doing your best to offer a warm, reassuring smile. “Hey, at least you made the first step. I really hope it works out.”

She looks up, a glimmer of gratitude softening her tired face.

Crisp evening air hits the three of you as you exit from the building. A few yards away, the desperate student from earlier is pacing under a flickering courtyard light. They are fixated on their phone, thumbs typing frantically as their brow furrows in deep, silent consternation. You watch them for a split second before Minseo nudges your arm, pulling you back to reality. With Hana’s crisis temporarily managed, the three of you walk into the gathering dusk, leaving the heavy atmosphere of the administration building behind.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The week passes by in a blur, and Friday arrives all too quickly. You and Minseo pull up to a large, luxury off-campus condo; towering floor-to-ceiling glass windows glow with warm, ambient lighting, casting a golden hue over the manicured courtyard. Helix President, Jeong Siwoo, greets incoming guests with practiced, magnetic charm.

“Nice place, Siwoo,” Minseo says, a heavy note of sarcasm layering her voice. “Is it yours?

“Glad you could come,” he responds smoothly, his calm gaze shifting effortlessly between the two of you. “No, Helix members rent and share this space.” 

Inside, the crowd is a chaotic blur of motion and noise. You and Minseo navigate a sea of flushed faces and alcohol-fueled laughter. A suffocating tightness squeezes your chest as anxiety begins to creep in. Just then, a familiar, slurred voice catches your ear. 

The two of you find Soojin on one of the sofas, appearing to have drank too much already, talking loudly. “Oh, hey guys,” she slurs as she notices you approach. She pats the seat next to her, and you and Minseo sit down. 

“I’m so screwed, guys. I’m on academic probation; if I don’t get my GPA up this semester, they’ll revoke my RA position,” she says.

“Seriously?” Minseo says, concerned.

“Yeah. No RA position means no reduced housing. So, basically, I’m going to have to get like, a real job.” She laughs tiredly.

“Depends on how desperate you are.” A muscular, athletic-looking guy with tousled dark brown hair sidles up to the couch with a crooked smile. He’s wearing a varsity jacket and a Helix-branded shirt, which is tight enough to outline his muscular frame.

“Agh. What now, Kang Junho?” Soojin drawls, her head tilting back into the cushions. 

“I mean…there’s an easier way to get your grades up. Just need to be willing to do some favors,” Junho says with a wink.

“Go away,” Soojin says with a roll of her eye. “You’re drunk.” “So are you,” Junho replies smoothly, sitting on the back of the couch and leaning down into her space. “That doesn’t affect the offer.” 

A cold spike of discomfort hits your stomach, and you shift restlessly in your seat. You and Minseo are probably the only two people here not drunk, having agreed to stay sober to properly gather material for her article. Your mind recoils at the thought of speaking up to the broad-shouldered athlete, but the sight of a drunk student being backed into a corner makes your chest tighten with indignation. Swallowing your nerves, you lock your gaze on Junho.

“Sh-she already said no,” you pipe up nervously.

Junho leans back and pauses for a beat, his eyes widening slightly as he locks his gaze onto you. Then, a loud, easy laugh cracks out of him. “Relax, newbie. I’m just joking.” He studies you for a moment longer, causing you to fidget uncomfortably under his stare. Finally, he pushes himself off the couch and walks away into the party

“Why are gym bros and athletes always so annoying?” Minseo mutters.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

A little while later, while the three of you continue chatting on the couch, you notice a frantic, high-pitched voice beginning to bleed through the background noise. At first, it blends in with the general roar of the party. Then, the pitch grows louder and sharper. You crane your neck, scanning the sprawling space. At the opposite end of the room, tucked into an alcove, you spot Daehyun sitting next to another student. Both of them are hunched over a glowing phone screen.

“You said I could get it all back!” the student cries out.

Daehyun pauses, then murmurs something to him.

“I lost it all!” The student cried again, his voice cracking. There is a brief lull in the surrounding conversations as his sharp cry pierces the crowd. Daehyun rolls his eyes, grabbing the student’s shoulder and pulling him closer in an attempt to quiet him down. Suddenly, the student flinches away from Daehyun as if his entire world has just collapsed. A jagged, breathless wail rips from his throat, his chest heaving as he gasps for air. He shoves violently through the dense crowd and bursts out the front door of the condo, his ragged sobs echoing in the night air.

Minseo and Soojin have also seen everything. 

“You two wait here, I’m going to go after him,” Minseo says hurriedly. Before you can even respond, she springs up from the plush cushions of the couch and bolts into the crowd, her eyes fixed on the door as she chases after him.

You turn to Soojin, but she only gives a nonchalant shrug before half-dozing off against the cushions. For a long while, you remain beside her, keeping watch as she drifts in and out of a drunken half-slumber. After the outburst, a quiet lull had settled over the party. Students still mill around, drinking and chatting, but the earlier chaos and energy dissipates as drunk and passed-out bodies start to pile onto the furniture. You sit and observe your surroundings idly until a single name cuts through the low murmur of the party and captures your undivided attention.

“Ask Yeon Sieun. He’s top of the class.” A thin, socially awkward guy wearing glasses is speaking to another athletic Helix member on the cluster of couches right next to you. Instinctively, you slide closer to the edge of your couch, your muscles tensing. Piecing together their hushed words, you gather that the nerdy student is Park Jisung, a computer science major who shares classes with Sieun. The athlete seems to be asking a favor from him, but you can’t make out what it is. 

“C’mon, aren’t you Mr. Hackerman?” the athlete jeers.

“Don’t call me that,” Jisung responds.

“Then stop pretending like you can’t do it.” The athlete's tone sharpens.

“I said I’d think about it,” Jisung responds flatly, crossing his arms and pulling his shoulders inward, leaning away from the other student.

The athlete leans in close, his voice dropping to a low whisper. You strain your ears to listen.

 “Don’t forget what we have.” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. “We can post it anytime.”

The weight of the vaguely threatening conclusion to their conversation leaves your mind racing, and you reach for your phone to check in on Minseo. Your pocket is empty. An immediate spike of anxiety hits your chest, turning your blood cold. When did this happen? 

You frantically pat your pockets and dig through your purse. Nothing. Panic blurs your vision.

“Looking for this, Y/N?” You snap your head up. Kang Junho is standing over you, holding your phone loosely between two fingers, a smug grin plastered across his face.

“Why do you have my phone?” you demand, your voice tight as you reach for it. Junho pulls it back just out of reach, his grin widening.

 “Relax, you dropped it between the cushions. I’m just being a good citizen.” He taps the screen, illuminating it before finally dropping it into your open palm. “Added my number, too. Felt efficient.”

A wave of absolute revulsion washes over you. Your skin crawls as you stare at the new contact on your screen. 

“Delete it.”

“Or you could just text me,” he responds smoothly, leaning in with that same suffocating, unbothered confidence. The sheer audacity makes you feel gross. 

Wanting to exit the situation as fast as humanly possible, you grab your bag, pull a half-conscious Soojin up by the arm, and push past him into the crowd without another word. Your skin is still prickling with disgust, but you force yourself to scan the room one last time. You need to find Park Jisung—you need to know why he is dragging Sieun’s name into whatever weird thing he has going on with the other guy. But as your eyes sweep the thinning crowd, the glasses-wearing student is nowhere to be found. He is already gone.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You start to drag a heavily stumbling Soojin out of the party to take her back to her dorm, the dead weight of her arm over your shoulder. You still haven’t been able to find Minseo; when you pull out your phone, No Service flashes in tiny script at the top corner of your screen. Ugh. 

The moment you cross the threshold of the posh Helix condo and step into the darkness of the tree-lined street, a sharp, digital chime rings out from your phone. Service is back, you think as you pull it out of your pocket eagerly, expecting a text from Minseo.

Instead, a pop-up window greets you. Someone is trying to Airdrop you a file:

IMG_2741.jpg.

Your thumbs tremble as you hit accept, your breath hitching in the cold night air as you wait for the image to load.

Your stomach drops. The blood instantly drains from your face, and a cold sweat breaks out across your neck. It is a photo of you at the party. Taken just about fifteen minutes ago. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. *This is the soundtrack I was playing while writing this part of the story with this divider. Headphones recommended. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.https://open.spotify.com/track/1Df7KFZte2Dt16qBG9U5o6?si=225c153d1a7e41e2

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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒I'm going to try to ride this momentum and write as much as I can of the next few chapters while it lasts...so we can get to more actual sieun x reader moments. hehe.

taglist ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒@soldantae

[hip-nautics]

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Chapter 4 - “Patterns”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A couple of weeks have passed. By now, the sharp autumn chill cuts straight through your layers. You pull your jacket tighter against the cold, freezing the moment a pleading cry cuts through the air.

“Y/N! … Y/N, there you are,” Minseo calls out breathlessly, sprinting to catch up with you outside the lecture hall building. You turn to face her. 

“What is it this time?” You’ve strangely become used to her chaotic, energetic presence. 

“...You alphabetize your notes.”

“What?”

“Your tabs are color-coded.”

“And?”

Minseo pauses. Then, her eyes turn pleading. “I need your help. Please.”

“With what?” You narrow your eyes.

Minseo zips open her bag and hauls out a chaotic binder bursting with wrinkled pages and loose photos: article drafts and interview snippets.

 “There’s even more on my laptop,” she pants. “I’m drowning in all this info. I just need help sorting through it all because I definitely over-researched this week. I think I may have gathered way too much material in way too short a time. Please. I’m drowning academically and… journalistically.” 

By now, you two have reached the campus cafe. 

“That’s not a word,” you say as you push open the heavy glass door, immediately greeted by the cafe’s welcoming warmth, the scent of espresso and baked goods wrapping around you.

“You understood me perfectly.”

“Ugh. Fine.” You roll your eyes as you both slide into a cafe booth. You did feel a little bad for Minseo. She genuinely was working hard and trying to do the article justice. You knew how many interviews she had conducted, and just how many poor and struggling students there were whose stories all shared the exact same narrative: a relentless cycle of debt, financial strain, and sheer perseverance. Your thoughts flicker briefly to the message you saw on Hana’s phone a few weeks ago. Maybe the article will finally inspire some sort of tuition reform, you think. Besides, because of your anxious, overachieving nature, you had done most of your class readings and assignments for the next two weeks already; you are what they call a precrastinator. 

Your phone buzzes once in your pocket.

Hana: Hey…I’m still wrapping up some stuff at home. Won’t be back until later…can you water my plant for me?

You frown. Hana has been gone for a few days now. She had mentioned something about going back home for a visit, but didn’t go into more detail about it. You type back a reply:

You: Of course. Let me know if you need anything else.

“I’ve uploaded most of the audio files and interview snippets to Google Drive. I’ll share the link with you. Can you just help me organize them? Maybe…sort them by something. Or something.” Minseo’s eyes are already glued to her laptop screen and she clicks away on her trackpad.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you click the link in your inbox, your eyes widening as you take in the absolute chaos of the contents. Audio tracks and text snippets are grouped blindly into random folders, while half a dozen rough drafts float around the main drive like digital debris.

“What is this file naming system?” you mutter as your fingers scroll over the trackpad.

“Instinct,” Minseo responds bluntly, taking a sip of her mocha.

“This one says ‘sad guy café maybe.’”

“And somehow I still know exactly who that is. Maybe. Hence…the ‘maybe’ at the end.”

“Why do you have ten files named ‘final_final_REAL2?”

“Well, that’s exactly why I need you!” 

With a heavy sigh, you open a new Google Sheets document. You begin the grueling process of playing back the interviews, carefully sorting them, assigning colors, and logging timestamps for every snippet.

An hour has passed. You rub your eyes, which are beginning to burn from looking at the screen. Still, you diligently sort through disconnected transcript fragments. You eventually start to notice patterns emerging as you scroll through the snippets.

“I’m doing better now. Someone helped me out.”

“Who?”

“...I don’t want to say.”

“...Can we leave that part out of the article?”

“I…haven’t been sleeping a lot lately, because of my new…work. But, I have money to pay my tuition and rent now.”

“Your new work? Like you got a new job?”

“...Y-yeah. Yeah pretty much.” “What is it?”

“...I prefer not to say.”

“Can you redact my name please?”

You frown as you add yet another timestamp to the “Wants Name Redacted” column on your spreadsheet. Several interviewees demanded anonymity and began shutting down when Minseo started probing too deeply into how they were handling their desparate financial situations. 

“You want to know what’s weird?” Minseo asks, cutting into your thoughts.

“There are a lot of things weird about this,” you murmur.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s that, when I started this article, I didn’t realize exactly how many students were struggling financially. Like, I would’ve never known, just looking around campus. Most people look fine, put together even. A lot of people are even wearing flashy bags and clothing.”

“Maybe people are just trying their best to hide it,” you shrug. 

“Yeah. Guess so. Anyway, I’m out for the night. I can’t look at another spreadsheet.” Minseo begins packing her bag, stuffing her laptop and papers into her backpack haphazardly.

“Alright, I’ll stay for a bit longer,” you murmur, your eyes still scanning the audio files.

 “Thanks a million again, by the way. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N,” Minseo calls out brightly as she pushes open the cafe doors.

You turn back to your screen.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The soft taps of your shoes echo down the hallway as you and Minseo jog up to the door of your Social Psych class.

“Good, we’re not too late,” she says, panting lightly.

You nod. Professor Choi has only just arrived and is still setting up his projector. Students are still half-asleep, the only sounds of the classroom being the quiet shuffling of papers and the hum of the fluorescent bulbs above. 

You instinctively scan the room for Sieun, who is already seated, AirPods in. You watch as ink-black strands of soft hair fall over his forehead as he leans over his notebook. The seat beside him, which had been occupied the previous week, is now empty. Minseo has noticed too.

“Hey, look, that seat’s empty! Let’s sit over there,” she whispers to you urgently. “It’ll be easier to talk about our group project after class anyway.” 

She walks over to Sieun and waves her hands in front of him. “Ya, Sieun-ah.”

He slowly pulls out one AirPod and looks up at her, his expression neutral. 

“Doesn’t someone usually sit here?” Minseo gestures at the seat beside him.

Sieun’s dark eyes flicker once toward the empty seat, then he shrugs slightly. “I don’t know,” he says in a low voice before turning his attention back to his notes.

“Systemic instability is tolerated surprisingly well by humans when there is periodic positive reinforcement,” Professor Choi’s smooth voice cuts through the silent classroom as he begins the day’s lecture.

Minseo immediately slides into the empty seat beside Sieun; you sit beside her.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

It has become routine for the three of you to stay after class to work on the group project. While a semester-long group project would leave most students in a panic, you feel completely at ease as the three of you make steady progress on it every single week. Well, more like the two of you; half the time, Minseo is either distracting you with her endless chatter or distracting herself, working on something or another of her own. Even now, Minseo glances at her phone before springing up, carelessly stuffing her things in her bag. 

“Where are you going?” you ask. 

“I forgot that I was going to get a follow-up interview from one of the students for the article,” Minseo replies. “Thank God I set a reminder. Good looks, Minseo from the past.” She slings her bag over her shoulder before continuing. 

“One of the students I talked to said she got financial aid from somewhere and said she managed to turn her whole situation around. She stopped panicking about tuition overnight. I wanted to follow up and see how things were going with her.”

Sieun glances up briefly now, the early afternoon sun catching and reflecting in his dark brown irises. 

“This is either going to turn into a heartwarming story about institutional support—” Minseo begins.

“Or?” you probe.

“Or rich people and their selective charity continue to baffle me. Anyway, it’s thanks to your psychopathically organized spreadsheet that I even remembered I interviewed her. So thanks, Y/N! Anyway, good luck with the project, guys. I believe in you!” Minseo waved cheerfully as she hurried out of the classroom. 

After Minseo leaves, you and Sieun settle into a quiet, but not quite awkward, working rhythm: you clicking away at your keyboard and him scribbling with his pen. 

Pausing your work after a while, you let your cursor drift toward the spreadsheet tab. Your fingers hesitate over your mouse for a beat before you finally open the file. An array of brightly colored boxes appears on the screen, lighting up your face. Sieun notices.

“So, you’re helping Minseo with her article?” He asks quietly.

Your finger freezes on the trackpad. You look up and realize he has leaned in to read your screen; his sudden proximity catches you off guard. This close, you can’t help but trace the soft, elegant curve of his brow, and the distracting fullness of his lips. A sudden wave of heat burns cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you manage, your voice sounding tighter than you intended. “Mostly just… organizing and sorting her interview transcripts.”

“Sounds time-consuming,” he murmurs, the light from the screen reflecting off his soft brown eyes.

“Minseo’s filing system is…emotionally upsetting.”

The joke falls flat in the space between you. Sieun doesn't laugh; instead, his gaze flickers slowly from the laptop screen back up to your face. The deliberate movement makes your stomach drop and flip violently.

“Hm.” His piercing gaze anchors onto yours, studying you with an unnerving, quiet intensity.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat as you tear your eyes away and look down at your lap.

“...What?” you falter, your pulse thumping in your ears. 

“Nothing,” he murmurs. The intensity vanishes as quickly as it came as he turns back to his notebook. 

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

Later that evening, you tag along as Minseo leads you to the Student Center, a large, sprawling building bustling with students hanging out and studying. You two are going to interview one of the RA’s on campus. Because you had sorted the interviews by topic, you had noticed that one of the recurring themes was the students’ struggle to pay for housing, either on campus or off campus. Minseo had dragged you along because “you remember transcript details so much better than I do, plus, now you can just pop the files directly into that nice organization schematic you developed!”

As you enter the vibrant hub, warm air and loud chatter greet you. Students are studying, laughing, and buying snacks and drinks at the few food vendors still open. 

“So…do you know who you’re looking for?” You ask, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the crowd. This is the first time you’ve been to the Student Center; usually, you try to avoid large crowds.

“Soojin? Yeah. She was actually my RA my freshman year. Oh, there she is! Yo, Soojin-ah!” Minseo hooks her arm through yours and hauls you toward the plush couches in the common area. Sitting alone on one of them is a girl, sipping an iced coffee while she scans over a heavy book balanced on her lap.

She looked up as you two approached. “Hey, Minseo, and…” Her eyes slide over to you.

“This is my friend, Y/N! She’s helping me with interviews.” Minseo tugs on your sleeve, pulling you in front of Soojin. 

You bow your head slightly. “Nice to meet you.”

“Anyway, we’ll make this quick,” Minseo says, clicking on her audio recorder. “We noticed when organizing transcripts that a lot of students have trouble keeping up with payments for housing. We wanted to ask you if you’ve noticed a lot of students losing access to housing or whether they’ve received any resources to help them stay.”

Soojin laughs tiredly. “Nah. Students leave all the time here.”

You glance up sharply.

She shrugs. “People lose funding, transfer schools, move off-campus to find cheaper housing, or even drop out if they lose scholarship assistance.”

“That often?” Minseo asks with a raised eyebrow.

“College is expensive,” Soojin shrugs again.

“Does the university not offer these students any kind of assistance?”

“Not that I know of, but I could be wrong. After all, there are still a good handful that come back after saying they received some sort of financial assistance or sponsorship from somewhere. Not sure where, though.” 

The interview snippets from earlier flash through your mind briefly. “I…haven’t been sleeping a lot lately, because of my new…work. But, I have money to pay my tuition and rent now.” 

You open your mouth to press Soojin for more, but just then a clumsy, wide-eyed freshman collides heavily with the back of the couch, sending Soojin’s iced coffee spilling onto her lap.

“Ah…I-I’m so sorry,” he squeaks, his face turning red. He makes a couple of rapid bows at Soojin. Before anyone can say anything, an obnoxious, booming voice slices through the air.

“Hey…Doyun, there you are. Listen…” A guy with a neatly styled dark hair and a practiced smile strolled over. The sleeves of his button-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and he had the look of someone who was used to weaseling their way into a conversation and emerging out of it with the upper hand. He slings his arm casually over Doyun’s shoulder, who jumps at his touch.

“About that thing,” the guy says, leaning into Doyun’s ear. “I can probably get you in, but…I’ll need the economics notes from you. And…that other thing.”

“Uh…ah…s-sure,” Doyun stammers, his posture stiffening. “I’ll get those to you as soon as I can. Thanks.”

“Perfect. Teamwork makes the dream work,” the guy smiles and winks at Doyun as they begin sauntering away from the three of you.

Soojin turns back around first, looking at her coffee-stained pants with an exasperated sigh.

“Ugh. That was Daehyun. Business major,” Minseo tells you with a roll of her eyes. She immediately grimaces. “Kind of sleazy. But statistically, most business majors are.”

“You know you say things out loud, right? And…he’s still like right there,” you say, nodding towards Daehyun, who has released the timid freshman but is still standing a few feet away from their couch.

“...And?”

“Hey, look who it is! Ya, Sieun-ah!” You and Minseo’s heads turn towards Daehyun for the second time. He has cornered Sieun, who is recoiling away from him in aversion, both of his hands clamped tightly around the straps of his backpack. 

“Hey, you were in Business Stats class yesterday, right? I had to miss the review, unfortunately,” Daehyun says, slinging an arm around Sieun’s shoulder.

“What’s that got to do with me?” Sieun tries to shrug off Daehyun’s arm, his eyes narrowing slightly in irritation.

“C’mon, let me have your notes. I had to go to a networking dinner, you know, I couldn’t help it.”

“That’s not my problem.” Sieun twists himself free of Daehyun’s hold and turns away.

“Hey, you owe me. Remember when you had to miss class that one day? I covered for you during attendance.” Daehyun’s brow furrowed, clearly unaccustomed to having to work this hard to get his way.

“I didn’t ask you to.” Sieun’s voice is curt.

“Fascinating,” Minseo murmurs beside you. “What is?” you respond, your eyes still trained on the scene in front of you.

“Daehyun is trying to socially engineer Sieun and it’s not working. For once. HA!” Minseo gets up from the couch and walks over to them casually.

“Ya, Daehyun. Stop bothering my classmate.”

Daehyun’s head snaps towards her voice. “Wha-? Um, he’s also my classmate too. Mind your own business, Minseo.”

“HA! That’s rich, coming from you,” she retorts. “Anyway, leave him alone. I need him to be functional for the sake of my Social Psych grade.”

“Whatever,” Daehyun huffs, spinning back to face Sieun. “You know, one day you’re actually going to need something from somebody, and no one will be around to help you out.” He stalks away sulkily, leaving the three of you staring after him.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

Later that night, you lie awake in the hollow silence of your apartment, staring up at the water-stained ceiling and watching as the occasional car passes by outside and paints long stripes of light across the wall. Your phone lights up on the nightstand beside you.

 Minseo: found the student i was trying to follow up with earlier  Minseo: actually no i didn’t  Minseo: nobody’s seen her in days  Minseo: her dorm roommate says she moved out suddenly, didn’t say why  Minseo: i just checked the student directory again  Minseo: her name’s gone

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒Chapters should be getting longer and (hopefully) more exciting from here on out. Again, apologies if it a**, especially the first few chapters lol. I didn't proofread some of them.

[hip-nautics]

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Chapter 3 – “Helix”

Golden sunlight cuts through the lace patterns of your bedroom window curtains, casting intricate, honey-toned shadows on your wall. 6:13 AM. Your feet ache as they trudge heavily across the cold floor to the kitchen. The shower is running; Hana is already up. You quickly down a glass of water, the coldness of it both refreshing you and waking you up. A faint glow catches your attention: Hana’s phone is lighting up on the counter. Before you can look away, you catch the first few words on the notification bar.

Final Notice: Tuition Balance…

You look away sheepishly as her phone screen goes dark again, as if you’d been caught prying. 

A few minutes later, Hana steps out of the bathroom, her hair still damp and her scrubs on. 

“Morning, Y/N,” she says, grabbing her phone. As she checks it, her expression darkens for a fleeting second before it’s replaced by a manufactured enthusiastic smile. She turns to you.

“You’ll have the place to yourself tonight. I…won’t be back tonight. If you want, have my leftover stew in the fridge. Otherwise you can throw it out.” Hana’s voice is clear and chipper; any traces of her earlier consternation are gone. 

“Yeah…thanks.” You don’t ask where she’s going.

“See you, Y/N.” Hana vanishes out the door, leaving you alone with the quiet drip of the kitchen faucet, the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, and your thoughts.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You hate crowds. And yet, you find yourself weaving in and out of bodies, shouting to talk to Minseo, as she drags you from booth to booth. She had begged you to come to the student involvement fair with her after classes: “You’re so pale, you need some sun anyway!”. You two have already been approached numerous times, both by aggressive club recruiters, and people who knew Minseo, or at least, knew of that “one girl from the paper”. One boy approached them and lazily taunted, “Hey Minseo, when are you gonna write a feature on my handsome face and big muscles, huh?”

“When you actually get a handsome face and some muscles,” Minseo shot back. 

Minseo turns around to face you, continuing to walk backwards through the crowd. She almost bumps into three different people.

“Okay, rule one: never trust a club with matching sweaters.”

“Why?” You’re speedwalking to match her pace.

“Cults. Or business majors. Sometimes both.”

Eventually, you approach a booth with sleek black-and-red signage, its logo a simple black-and-red spiral.

Helix Leadership Society

Academic Networking

Leadership & Student Development

Mentorships & Tutoring

Manning the booth was a tall boy with a straight, clean haircut and sharp features. Minseo’s tone, previously bright and sarcastic, shifts slightly. 

“That’s Jeong Siwoo.”

“Should I know who that is?” You say as you squint at the brochures stacked neatly on the tabletop.

“Student council (총학생회) and President of the Helix Leadership Society. Everybody knows him. Apparently, he comes from money and has a lot of influence.”

The two of you stop in front of the table. Minseo casually greets him first.

“So, you recruiting future executives, or victims today?” She says with a roll of her eyes.

Siwoo has to lower his gaze to meet Minseo’s eyes. He smiles slightly, not offended. 

“Depends. Nice to see you too, Minseo.” His attention shifts to you. You feel your spine straighten at his piercing gaze. “You’re a new transfer, right?” His voice is smooth.

“Um, yeah.” How does everyone seem to know I’m new?

Siwoo breaks into a gentle, encouraging smile. “Transferring mid-semester can be tough. Let us know if we can help you out in any way. We offer a lot of social and networking activities – could be a great way to make new friends.”

“Ugh. See? This is why I can’t with you club people. Always recruiting, sounding like a damn brochure.”

“Just trying to help,” Siwoo says silkily.

“Not succeeding.” Minseo then tugs at your arm to pull you away. As you two walk away, you glance back toward the booth, where another student is offering Siwoo a cup of coffee with a bow of their head. You see Siwoo accept it easily with a poised smile. You turn back around.

“Helix basically has their hands on everything on campus,” Minseo says. 

“You don’t like them?”

“I didn’t say that.” She pauses. “I just think it’s weird when clubs or organizations start acting like they’re more useful than the university itself.”

You two stay until the end of the fair, when tables and booths begin packing up. The evening sun begins to set, casting everything in a rich orange glow. You catch sight of Siwoo across the crowd again, the golden sunlight making him look…almost handsome. This time, he seems to be helping a timid, nervous freshman who keeps bowing and apologizing. The freshman’s body language contrasts sharply with Siwoo’s perfectly calm and composed exterior. As soon as the student turns away though, you notice a tiny, almost indiscernible change in his expression. The warmth in his eyes dim; his smile drops; the perfect, helpful demeanor just ever so slightly cracks.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒ reader makes friends and meets new people. More Sieun fluff next chapter.

[hip-nautics]

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Chapter 2 – “Group Assignment”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The first thing you notice about Professor Choi Sungho is his calm, smooth demeanor. He glides into the room, his expression serene but unreadable. When he speaks, his words fall out like butter, smooth and articulate.

“Welcome to Social Psychology. Social psychology is the scientific study of how people's thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are influenced by others. In this course, you will investigate the psychological and social drivers behind why human behavior is so easily influenced by others.”

A hush immediately falls over the class as everyone’s attention is captured.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Now, you’ll have the rest of the class period to work on your group projects. Don’t waste this time, as I will not be giving you any more in-class time to work on this together!” 

A couple of students groan. Same, you think, as dread begins to trickle through your stomach. A group project on the first day of class. Great. You glance at the board, where the groups are listed. You are with two other people: 박민서 (Park Minseo) and…연시은 (Yeon Sieun). Are we just supposed to just find who these people are on our own? You think bitterly. 

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” A girl with bright, cheerful eyes approaches you.

“...Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I’m Park Minseo. I knew because I heard we were getting a mid-semester transfer student, and I hadn’t seen you around before nor seen your name on the attendance sheets.” She smiles brightly at you. 

“Ah…okay. Nice to meet you. Do you know who our third group member is? Yeon Sieun?”

Minseo nods in the direction of the sleeping boy who had caught your eye earlier. You find your gaze being pulled back toward him, his arms still folded neatly under his head, his features still motionless and tranquil. 

Minseo leans in and drops her voice to a low whisper. “I heard he used to get into fights a lot in high school. Apparently, he even broke another guy’s ankle with a dumbbell. Isn’t that savage?”

You sweep your eyes over Sieun, hardly believing that a boy with as slight a build as he would be a vicious fighter.

“How do you know all this?” You have already determined that Minseo is someone whose words should be taken with a grain of salt.

“I know everything on campus,” Minseo winks at you. “After all, I’m a journalism major. It’s my job to know things. For example – see that guy?” She nods towards another student in the class. “Last semester, he couldn’t afford ramen. Suddenly, he’s carrying a new MacBook and skipping classes. That’s either crypto or crime.” She winks at you again.

You two make your way over to Sieun, who finally sits up and rubs his eyes upon your approach. 

“Alright,” Minseo says. “Statistically speaking, this either becomes the best group ever or a complete disaster.”

You glance at Sieun, who is simply staring at Minseo, making no response.

Minseo sighs after a beat of silence. “Disaster. Definitely a disaster.”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

Surprisingly, the three of you work efficiently together, already having divided up roles for each person. After a while of working silently, Minseo cuts in lightly.

“Hey, Sieun, what’s your major? Wait, no, let me guess.”

Sieun, whose head is bowed over his notebook, barely looks up at her.

“Probably something like…Statistics. Or computer engineering.”

 “...Yes.” Sieun responds quietly, still focused on his notes.

“Yes? What do you mean? Which one is it?” Minseo prods, her eyes lit.

“Both. Statistics major with a minor in computer engineering.”

The victorious shout Minseo lets out turns a few of the other students’ heads. “HA! I KNEW it! I’m so good. Y/N, did you see that? I totally predicted that perfectly. I have like a sixth sense.” She turns back toward Sieun. “You know, even though you sleep a lot in class, you still sit like someone who used to get perfect grades.”

“...What does that mean?” Sieun has now lifted his head to gaze at Minseo. Though his expression remains neutral, his dark, doe eyes are surprisingly expressive. You find yourself shifting in your seat.

“I mean, you look stressed out all the time, but like in an organized way.”

A small laugh unintentionally bubbles out of you. Sieun slides his eyes over to you, and your laugh immediately dies out. His gaze is unexpectedly intense, even as his expression remains unreadable and calm as ever. You quickly drop your eyes.

“A-anyway,” you stammer, grappling for a subject change. “I just finished the project outline. What do you guys think?” You turn your laptop around to face the other two.

Minseo begins mouthing the words on the screen, while Sieun reads silently. After a couple of minutes, Sieun breaks the silence.

“Your conclusion contradicts your main hypothesis,” he deadpans.

You stiffen immediately. For some reason, you feel the need to get defensive, though you are no stranger to constant criticism, coming from the childhood that you did.

“It’s just a rough draft,” you bristle.

“I know.”

“Then why are you talking like it’s finalized?”

Minseo chimes in. “Oh, this is incredible. You two are already bickering like an old married couple.”

“No, we’re not.” Your cheeks flush slightly, and you glance away while pulling the laptop back towards you. You sneak a glance back at Sieun, whose gaze lingers on you for a beat, before turning back to his notebook.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The class period is nearing its end, and people have become distracted. By people, you mean you and Minseo. Sieun remains as focused as ever.

“Ugh. I hate transcribing so much. Why can’t there be a program that automatically transcribes all of my interview recordings for me?” Minseo sighs dramatically.

“Maybe there is,” you suggest, leaning over to peek at her screen. “What are you working on, anyway?”

“I’m writing an article for the campus paper. I recorded some student interviews and now I’m working on transcribing them for the article.”

“You work for student media?”

“Uuuunfortunately,” Minseo sighs out.

“You say that like you hate it,” you tease.

“I love journalism. I hate journalism students. Anyway, I’m working on this thing about how students are surviving tuition increases. Seems like a lot of students are picking up secondary employment “opportunities”, but they’re all being pretty vague about the specifics. I have noticed that a lot of students have been able to turn their financial situation completely around, though.”

“Let’s stay on track now, shall we?” Professor Choi’s smooth voice cuts in before you can respond. He had been pacing around the classroom, observing the groups working. You hadn’t even noticed that he neared your group until he spoke.

“Er…yes. Sorry, professor,” Minseo stammers. After he walks away, she leans in to whisper to you again. “Apparently, he’s like a Distinguished Professor and Department Chair in his department. I do not want to get on his bad side.”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

Class ends and students begin packing their bags, papers shuffling and laptops being clicked shut. Eventually, you are the one of the only ones left behind, still staring at the project draft on your laptop screen. Minseo had already rushed off to conduct some student interviews. With your head in one of your hands, you highlight, delete, and rewrite the conclusion paragraph for the fourth time. 

“I didn’t mean for earlier to sound like criticism.” A quiet voice cuts through the silence, making you jump. You turn around; Sieun is standing behind you, his black schoolbag slung over one shoulder, his dark eyes assessing you intently. You feel yourself flush as you turn back around quickly.

“It’s fine,” you mutter. “You were right, anyway.”

“For what it’s worth, your new conclusion is great. I think it makes a lot more sense now,” he murmurs. 

Heat rises to the tips of your ears, and you subtly shift in your seat, trying to block the screen with your body. “I’m still working on it,” you mumble. You move your mouse to highlight the concluding sentence again, meaning to delete it once more.

“It’s fine the way it is,” Sieun interrupts. “You’ve already revised it four times.” 

You were watching that whole time? You turn back around to face him. His intense, obsidian eyes are still locked on you. You drop your gaze, which then lands on the soft, parted curve of his full lips. Your palms begin to sweat.

“I’m…sorry for earlier. But you don’t have to keep rewriting it just to try to shield yourself from any more future criticism. Just leave it the way it is now.” Sieun’s eyes dropped, his dark lashes brushing his cheeks. Your stomach sinks, and you don’t know how to respond. For some reason, his words felt like a punch in the gut. You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, searching for words, but before you can find any, Sieun turns and walks away. Your eyes trace the dark mass of his hair and his receding silhouette as he vanishes into the crowded hallway. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒ Lots more Sieun slowburn planned.

[hip-nautics]

chapter index | next

Chapter 1 – “Transfer”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The early autumn sun filtered weakly through the leaves as your arms strained to lift the cardboard box. Last one, then I’m finally moved in. Nerves tickle your stomach before you quickly suppress them. It’s too early for that. 

Of course, being a transfer student at a new university was bound to be a little nerve-wracking. Transferring mid-way through the school year, no less, you think. A burning starts in your chest as you start thinking about your abrupt leave of absence from school last year. About how you had gone from being a top student to nearly dropping out of college altogether. Throughout high school and the start of college, you had been an overachiever. Teachers and professors praised you constantly, and you consistently made the dean's list at the end of each semester. Then the panic attacks started. Suddenly, every class felt like an anchor that was pulling you deeper into an ocean you were drowning in. All of your energy was spent trying to keep your head above water, and when you couldn’t, you would collapse in a heap of tears, gasping for breath. Your grades started slipping dramatically. Eventually, it got so bad that you had to withdraw mid-semester to check into an open ward (개방병동), where you received therapy and medical treatment for two weeks. 

You grit your teeth and shake the thoughts away as you drop the last box in your dorm room with a loud thud. This is a fresh start; that’s why you transferred to HanSeong University in the first place. You’re receiving weekly tele-therapy, and you’re on a new medication. You’re turning over a new leaf.

The steady dripping of the tiny kitchenette’s sink became your soundtrack to unpacking. You felt incredibly lucky that you were able to find off-campus housing so cheap – until it was obvious why it was so cheap. Water stains littered the low ceiling. The linoleum floors peeled at the edges. Cabinets hung askew on their hinges. Still worth it to minimize debt, you think begrudgingly.

With a deep sigh, you finish unpacking the last of your things: a ceramic music box featuring delicately painted plum blossoms, its weight steadying in your hands. The only personal item you brought with you to college, given to you by your grandmother, the only person who didn’t tie your worth to your academic achievements. The music box had just met the surface of your desk with a quiet, metallic chime when the front door opened with a soft click. 

A girl with tired eyes and brown hair tied back in a ponytail met your gaze. She was wearing scrubs and sneakers, which she was carefully taking off and stacking by the door. Your roommate.

“Hey,” she said quietly, as if she had no energy to speak louder.

“Hi.”

“You’re Y/N?”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you.” You began making your way towards her, your hand extended awkwardly, unsure whether it was appropriate to shake hands or not. She did take your hand, her hands warm and her grip loose.

“I’m Hana. I’m studying nursing. It’s nice to meet you, too.” 

Hana’s gaze scanned your sparse room, landing on the lone music box you had just unpacked on your desk, lingering for a half a second too long. 

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

A familiar tension starts gripping your chest as you make your way to your first class of the day, Social Psychology. The sounds of student chatter grow louder as you near the lecture hall; once inside, all sensory stimuli amplified: the bright fluorescent lighting burned your eyes, and the scraping of chairs and laughter of students rang in your ears. You find an empty row of desks at the edge of the classroom and quickly take a seat. Your eyes scan the classroom: textbooks being unpacked, laptop keys being clicked, whispers being exchanged. Then, a magnetic pull draws your gaze to the opposite end of the classroom: a lone student, a boy, sleeping with his arms folded over the desk. Even from your distance, you still notice how his long, dark lashes lie over the dark circles under his eyes; how a lock of soft, raven hair brushes over his forehead. He is perfectly calm and still – not peaceful, exactly, but more just heavy with total exhaustion. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

chapter index | next

author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒ short chapter, just setting the scene.

[hip-nautics]

Pairing: f!reader x Yeon Sieun

Genre: slowburn, friends to lovers, thriller, long-form fiction

Warnings: panic/anxiety attacks, social exploitation, blackmail, corruption, gambling, debt/debt collection, drug handling, SA, financial struggle, academic stress, perfectionism, violence, use of y/n, fluff, no smut, reader is Korean, many OCs, not beta read

Word Count: 16.1k

Status: Ongoing

Synopsis: After transferring universities following a mental breakdown, you try to rebuild your life quietly — until you and a classmate begin uncovering systems that profit from desperation. As pressure mounts and buried violence resurfaces around campus, you find yourself drawn closer to the last person you expected to rely on: the quiet, unsettlingly perceptive Yeon Sieun.

Disclaimers: fictional characters, fictional institutions, fictional everything. I wanted to keep this as canon as possible, so the story is set in modern-day Korea and all the characters, including Reader, are Korean. I tried my best with the research for the piece, but at the end of the day, I am not Korean and I have sadly never been there, so please excuse any inaccuracies. Many of the college experiences are informed by my own in U.S. colleges, so again, I apologize for any inaccuracies or confusion. Chapters may not be proofread.

Author’s Note: I haven’t written anything remotely close to fiction in many, many years, let alone a romance. Also, this is my first fanfiction. So, sorry if it’s ass. Especially the first few chapters. I hope you still give it a chance. No set update schedule yet.

ch. 1 - "Transfer"

ch. 2 - "Group Assignment"

ch. 3 - "Helix"

ch. 4 - "Patterns"

ch. 5 - "Debt"

ch. 6 - "Repayment"

ch. 7 - "Night Shift"

[meolog]

blossoms

instagram

[azranissu]

[kitty-kat-roxx]

Reiner the man that you are let me take u to pound town

[tzhyabi]

Levi and Kuchel in modern au

In this au, when Levi was a baby, Kuchel was going through financial difficulties. She wanted a photo of her son’s first birthday, since she didn’t have any pictures of him yet, so she asked one of her neighbors if he could lend her his camera and take a picture of her with Baby Levi.

plus:

[tzhyabi]

Teen Levi and Baby Mikasa (Modern Au)

[kcokaine]

yuji

[aphroditaeon]

oh my godddddd he’s SO handsome 😦💦 and wearing himself on his shirt SJHSJS 😻😻😻

[tea-with-mrs-mourning-dove]