genres and warnings: fluff, a sprinkle of angst in the beginning, slice of life, highschool au, coming of age, just teens having fun, mentions of smoking
word count: 15k
synopsis: you did not expect to basically get adopted by a group of boys when you transfer to your new school. at first, you think they are friends with you to prove sth to their rival-of-sorts, but later you find a home in them.
a/n: i must thank @eightmakesonebraincell for enabling this. it was genuinely so fun to write this without worrying about the plot and plot twists and worldbuilding.
Spring is a marker for new beginnings. The cherry blossoms bloom in all their pastel pink glory, the petals covering the streets in their wake. Some children try to avoid stepping on them and it turns into a game– anyone who steps on more than five petals on their way to school loses. Teens keep their heads raised up to the sky, having heard the famous saying about the cherry blossoms; if you catch a petal, your first love becomes true.
Some of them haven’t had their first love yet. They are on their way to school, junior year, just like you. They are struggling to catch a petal with the hopes that the boy or the girl they said goodbye to before the year break ends up in their class, maybe even gets seated right next to them. With that little bubble of hope in their hearts, they jump around and their giggles echo in the streets.
The old folks who are just out for their usual morning walk or to see their children or grandchildren off laugh along in reminiscence and if you stop by to admire the scene, it seems straight out of a musical.
However, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and you are not a great appreciator of beauty. Some might even say you’re not worthy of being called a beholder at all. You should have been– as an old friend had the honour of telling you once– 'I don't know, a snail!'. You dodge the little kids who jump so unpredictably yet rather expertly, avoid the students who look to be about your age like the plague and somehow, make your way to your new school without an eventful morning.
You’re clutching onto the shoulder straps of your bag as if someone would notice that you need help. However, the guard urges you to rush inside as the school bell is about to ring. With a deep breath, you take one step, and another, and then another–
Until someone bumps against your shoulders and you find yourself losing balance, a startled little sound escaping your mouth as you find yourself pulled by gravity. Another pair of hands grabs your bag, propelling you up before you end up kissing the pavement. You look towards your right where the assailant– you have no better word in your vocabulary to call the rowdy boy who bumped against you and almost killed you– stands. He looks genuinely worried for a hot second but when he realises that he has not caused fatal damage, he bursts into a feline grin, tells you ‘my bad!’ and continues to rush towards the school building.
You hardly have time to look at your saviour. Everything is happening too quickly. He makes sure you’re steady before he zooms off after the assailant. All you can make out is that he is tall and very light on his feet, the navy blue uniform jacket in his hand almost flying in the air behind him.
While you are processing how you almost made it to your first day at your new school with a bust lip, you instinctively wrap your arms around your chest as more boys rush past you, calling after the duo. You shut your eyes and take a deep breath, hoping that your junior year will be uneventful, that this school year will pass by with you unnoticed, a part of the background. And you pray that no one recognises you here.
You didn’t exactly leave your old school on a good note.
However, when you finally find your class after a trip to the teachers’ office and muster the courage to stop a random, kind-looking girl to ask for directions, you notice a few things.
Firstly, the classroom is not as big as your old classroom, which means that there are less students and more chances of people noticing and remembering you. You will have to try harder to merge into the background, but–
The duo from earlier is in this class, with the tall boy recognisable because he is not facing you. He turns to look at the time and you meet eyes for a second, though he probably does not recognise you either. He has a puppy-like charm to him in the way his eyes curve when he smiles. You remain frozen at the entrance, willing the other boy to not notice you, but he does and offers you a cheerful wave. You don’t respond in any way, a tap on your shoulder making you restrain a groan.
Upon turning, you find that it’s your homeroom teacher, the one you had just talked to in the office. She smiles warmly at you.
“Good timing. Come in, let’s introduce you to your class.”
“But–”
The words get stuck in your mouth when Miss Ji claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. The boys and girls settle down and you are the only one awkwardly standing in the front, fiddling with your fingers and finding it hard to swallow the anxiety.
“Alright, let’s see… oh, Nabi is back in my class. That’s good, and… Seonghwa! How wonderful, but– oh, no…”
“Oh, yes, Miss Ji!” The boy who bumped into you earlier is quick to respond. “You cannot keep separating the eight of us every year! It’s not going to work anymore.”
Miss Ji seems to consider his statement. Was that a challenge?
“Come on, Miss Ji,” the tall boy pleads and you count the boys who are nodding their heads in unison and pleading. Yes, exactly eight of them. “We will be nice to you. We promise.”
“Only if you insist, Yunho, because you are my favourite,” she says and Yunho grins, receiving congratulatory pats from his friends. You observe them with mild curiosity. It looks like they are old friends, which you suppose is nice.
Except there is an empty seat in the middle of them which could be your potential spot for the rest of your year. There is also an empty seat by the window and you would prefer that, but–
Miss Ji asks you to introduce yourself and you bow to the class, clear your throat and say your name in a robotic tone.
“I transferred from Ilsan Tech High School. I hope we will have a good year ahead.”
The class claps for you, but it’s a little dull. Still, the girls look at you with a sort of vulnerable excitement in their eyes, perhaps wondering if you could be the new addition to their group. You don’t smile back at anyone, making sure to disappoint them because it will hurt less if you do it now. The boys mostly appear uninterested, too busy with their gadgets except the assailant who is grinning devilishly.
“Alright, you can take the seat next to Wooyoung there,” Miss Ji points and you follow her hand to where she points, your heart sinking a bit dramatically when you realise that the name Wooyoung belongs to your assailant.
“Uh… is there a chance that I can take the empty seat in the corner instead?”
“Oh, that one?” One of the girls in the front points and answers for the teacher. “That seat belongs to Yuna. She’s probably in the nurse room right now.”
“Ah…” you offer a weak smile as a thanks and begrudgingly make your way towards the assailant who seems too happy to have you to his right. You take your seat in the single row, in front of the girl Miss Ji named earlier, Nabi. The group of eight is on your left and right, with another boy in front of you who doesn’t seem to be a part of this little gang.
Your homeroom teacher details what she expects from this junior year in the present term, asks all of you to take your studies seriously this year and to start preparing for what senior year brings in advance– to start thinking about your future. While she talks, a paper plane flies over your head and you have to focus hard to not let the boys’ incessant giggles get to you.
Miss Ji shakes her head at the bunch and says, “I’m personally going to separate you guys if you don’t cooperate with me.”
“Yes ma’am!” The eight of them respond in synchrony and your eyelid twitches involuntarily. As soon as Miss Ji leaves the room, Wooyoung taps on your desk.
“Sorry for ruining your morning,” he says with a hand over his chest. “Shall I treat you to some bread and strawberry milk today to make up for it?”
“Uh… no thanks,” you offer him a weak smile. “It’s okay.”
“So you do admit that he ruined your morning,” the boy who sits next to Wooyoung leans forward, pushing Wooyoung back a bit so he can see you better. “I’m Jongho. If anyone bothers you, you can tell me.”
“Well… right now you’re both bothering me,” you mumble and the duo clutch their hearts dramatically. You wonder if there’s a theatre class in this school because if there is and this duo isn’t a part of it, the theatre class is missing out on some talent. “I’ll be fine, thank you very much.”
“Come on, boys, don’t bother her,” the voice on your right says and you look at the boy who’s too pretty to be called handsome. “Let her be. It’s her first day, don’t overwhelm her.”
Seonghwa. He seems like the sane one out of the bunch. You give him a subtle nod to thank him and he just smiles in response, arranging the books on his desk neatly and tucking the long strands of his hair back.
However, you find two packs of bread and two flavours of milk on your desk during recess either way. You returned to a mostly empty class after going to the toilet first (and almost getting lost on your way back). You consider shoving the goods inside Wooyoung’s desk but you figure that if you just accept these, he’ll stop bothering you for good.
With that thought, you open the vanilla bread and chocolate milk and enjoy your lunch in peace. There is only a group of friends at the front eating their lunch and chatting among themselves, ignoring your presence and you don’t pay attention to them. You finish your lunch and rest your head on the desk for a much-needed post-meal nap when someone dares to tap on your shoulder and interrupt your peace.
It’s hardly been half a day and you’re already at your wits’ ends. You prepare to snap at the person because you’re sure it’s Wooyoung or one of his friends, but to your surprise, you find that it’s the girl who sits behind you, Nabi.
“Have you had lunch?”
“Uh, yeah,” you straighten. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted you to know that if you need anything, any sort of help, you can ask me,” she says with a trademark smile that you can sense is just for show. Her long, straight hair gets flipped back as she looks over her shoulders. “I know Wooyoung can be a bit too much. If you ever want to switch seats, you can do that with me.”
Now, you’re not a fan of Wooyoung, but if she knows that Wooyoung can be too much, why would she offer to switch seats with you? She can’t be a saint, could she?
You tell her that you will think about it. And think you do.
Over the course of the next few days as you struggle to keep up with your studies, adjust to this class and train yourself to think of the group of boys around you as background noise (even though they are anything but with their constant check-ins and every day treats on your desks because apparently, you have not verbally forgiven Wooyoung so he is bound to be your slave for ‘eternity’), you notice one thing.
Nabi cares for Seonghwa.
Seonghwa does not care for Nabi. In fact, it looks like the group of them have beef with Nabi.
Nabi and Seonghwa, you find, are the best students in the class. The ‘model’ students. They are also vice president and president respectively. Seonghwa tries to be civil, but Nabi reads too much into his kindness and mistakes it for something else. Her level of infatuation with Seonghwa is such that she is willing to risk damaging her eardrums just so she gets to sit next to Seonghwa.
You also learn that Nabi does not like you very much, and maybe that’s why the boys keep coddling you even though you keep snapping at them.
But you weigh your options. What is the worst the yapper who sits next to you could do? Girls can be dangerous when mad, that you know very well from your experience in your previous school. Girls can be very, very mean to their own people.
Of course, boys can be mean and violent too, but they generally don’t bother with girls. Or maybe, you’re just a traditional stereotypical arse who thinks she knows too much when your only experience is from your previous school. Either way, you want to spend the rest of your school life silently, without coming out of the shadows. You don’t want sworn enmity from Nabi or, well, be a cockblocker. If she wants to attempt to woo Seonghwa when it seems like all he cares about is his studies or the clumsy boy Hongjoong who sits next to him, you’re not gonna be the wall that prevents her from doing so. You’ll let Seonghwa’s other friends play that.
So one moody Monday morning, you catch Nabi in the hallway and let her know that you can switch seats with her. The joy on her face is innocent and you almost smile. Her group of friends cheer for her and with that, you go to drop your bag in the class and find a quiet spot until the bell rings.
None of the boys have arrived in class yet. You do smile to yourself at the thought of how they will react. Maybe you’ll like your spot between San and Mingi better. They appear intimidating but it didn’t take you long to realise that they’re the softest of their group, thanks to the duo making sure you don’t feel overwhelmed by Wooyoung who has made it his life’s mission to serve you.
The sound of the gentle breeze and the rustling of spring leaves lull you into a calm headspace and you soak in every bit of these few serene moments, sitting under the tree as your head rocks to the rhythm of nature. How nice is it to find a quiet spot like this in a busy place like a school? You wonder if someone shares this spot with you at some other time– there are signs of life here. A wrapper of a candy that someone must have forgotten to throw, a stick wedged in one of the pots with someone’s name on it–
“There she is!”
Your hackles rise at the all too familiar voice of a certain self-proclaimed slave. You don’t want to be a master. You don’t want to feel like a Queen. So instead of addressing your subject, you gather your things and disappear into the maze that is this school.
Each step you take is urgent and there is a battle rhythm playing in your head– when did that happen? You march forward more like a soldier than a lord, head hanging low and eyes suspicious as they scan the crowd and guide you in your navigation to the classroom. You check the time– maybe if you get to your new seat before the boys, right before the teacher comes in and they can no longer bother you–
Before you can take a turn, a pair of large hands grab you by your upper arms and rotate you until you face the left, steering you towards the stairs as you swallow your gasp. You have hardly craned your neck upwards to identify your new assailant when a baseball cap gets fixed over your head. You mumble a few words of protest but you have no choice but to get taken to this unknown location that is a suspicious-looking room on the upper level.
You shut your eyes and brace yourself for what’s next when the door opens. However, you open your eyes almost immediately as you’re hit by the smell of baked treats. Did you get portalled to a bakery–
And there is your servant, clad in an apron as if he baked these treats himself here. The expressions on your face must be theatrical because the boys stifle their laugh as you look around. You have definitely portalled to another world, because there is no way a room like this exists in this school that seems to be barely holding itself.
The room isn’t too big but the shelves have been lined to the walls and decorated with ornaments. You spot a few snow globes and far too many plushies of each and every kind and colour, and realise that someone must have an obsession– and then there’s lego figures on another shelf, neatly stacked and colour coordinated. The lower shelves contain comics and at the corner by the window, there is an old sofa that is covered with pink sheets and cushions.
There is a basketball net attached to a makeshift hoop and you spot a basketball and balls of all sizes lying around. You were aware the school had a basketball team and if you think hard, you might actually recall who among these boys play in the team, except…
You are kind of distracted by the baked goods and cans of flavoured drinks that are neatly arranged on the table in the middle of the room.
A hideout. That is what this must be.
You finally look behind you to confirm the identity of your new assailant and gasp when you find that it’s Yunho– the other model student. He grins a bit too wide at your annoyance and you turn to face Wooyoung and Jongho who seem to be the masterminds behind this.
“What is wrong with you people?”
“Wrong seems to be an overstatement,” Jongho pleads his case. “Off, maybe. Not right. But not wrong.”
“Why did you switch seats with–”
Jongho smacks Wooyoung’s chest with an open palm while standing next to him, unmoving, his eyes never leaving yours. The loud thump of his attack echoes dramatically off the walls of this small room and you can hear distant giggles being masked. As Wooyoung doubles over and retreats, Jongho continues to smile innocently while your jaw all but drops to the floor.
Yunho, hands still on your arms, steers you to the chair and makes you sit before dragging another seat close to you, offering you a croissant. You, still watching Wooyoung worriedly as he gathers his energy and his pride, subconsciously start to nibble on it. When the chocolate filling hits you, you finally blink and inspect the croissant. It’s actually good–
“Made by yours truly,” says Wooyoung in a weak voice. You make an impressed face and figure that since you’re trapped, you might as well enjoy the treat. San comes over to set some cans in front of you and you point at the cola which he opens with one finger effortlessly before setting it in front of you and you purse your lips to keep from smiling.
“Can you answer my questions now?” You ask Jongho when you’re done finishing the croissant and he offers you a cupcake with salted caramel frosting next. “What is this? A bribe? You’re trying to break my morale with baked goods?”
“It seems to be working,” Yeosang comments from your right where he’s sitting by the window next to Mingi and Hongjoong, who is half asleep as per usual. He doesn’t seem to be a morning person and consistently naps throughout half the classes too.
You shoot him a glare but you don’t deny it. The more you eat these treats, the more relaxed you become. Maybe this is how the special officers should treat their spies.
Seonghwa hovers around the lot of you, nervously moving around and fixing things that do not need to be fixed, stealing glances at you. You look over to Yeosang. “Maybe you should calm that one first.”
He laughs with an approving clap and you finally break into a smile, though you are quick to turn it into a dirty look as you lock eyes with Wooyoung. “You tell me what’s going on or I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave–”
“Why did you switch seats with Nabi?”
You look at Jongho. “Like hell I can’t leave,” you say and turn to leave just to prove a point but Seonghwa is quick to rush over to the door while San and Yunho basically manhandle you back into the seat despite your protests.
“This is bullying!” You yell at them and they quickly raise their hands in surrender. You turn to Wooyoung, feeling anger rise up in your throat. “Why can’t I switch seats with Nabi? I’m going to be honest, I don’t like my current spot. I would have preferred a corner or an end seat, so when she offered, I wanted to accept right away.”
“What made you hesitate?” Mingi asks, the first time he directly converses with you.
You take a deep breath. “That does not matter–”
“It does,” he asserts. “So tell us what made you hesitate and if it makes sense, we’ll let you be.”
“Mingi–” Wooyoung warns but gets ignored, the room falling silent as the boys wait for your response.
“Look. I don’t know why you guys are giving me special treatment, but I figured that it’s got something to do with Nabi. I know she wants to sit next to Seonghwa,” you admit, meeting eyes with said boy meekly as he comes into your vision. “I don’t know if you guys hate her or something, but it’s got nothing to do with me, and I would honestly risk your wrath than hers. She doesn’t seem like a very nice person.”
“Oh, you don’t want to risk our wrath–” Wooyoung begins but gets interrupted by Seonghwa.
“She isn’t,” he admits in a soft, quiet voice which makes you shift your attention to him. He appears nervous, his eyes darting over to Hongjoong who is watching the scene unfold in front of him with one eye open. “She… can be persistent. It’s been a while since the eight of us have been in one class, and yet she’s here to torture me again.”
“Torture you?” You question.
“She follows him to every class. She’s got connections so she makes it happen,” Hongjoong answers for his friend, folding his arms. “Call it an obsession, call it infatuation, but she’s willing to hurt us and our group just to get Seonghwa’s attention.”
“Have you… tried talking to her?” You look at Wooyoung. “You could. You would certainly get the point across.”
“She’s as tough as Wooyoung, if not more,” San scoffs. “She won’t back down. She just wants Seonghwa to be her friend first. She wants to study with him because he’s better than her in some areas. Where he’s not… he takes help from Yunho or someone else but Nabi, and that pisses her off.”
“Sounds like a nutcase,” you comment. “But now you see why I have no choice but to accept her demand to switch seats. She will ruin my life, and I just barely got away with my life getting ruined at my previous school, so I’m sorry but Nabi is your old friend and enemy. Deal with her yourselves.”
Hurt flashes across Seonghwa’s eyes and you almost take back your statement, but it is the survival of the fittest here and you’re not the fittest. So survive you must, however that may be.
“She can’t hurt you. We will protect you and make sure that does not happen,” Yunho speaks. A promise, and your heart almost flutters at the determination in his voice. “We can’t do much since we don’t have the power to get to Nabi directly, but what we can do is make you stay in your current seat. Granted, she’s still like a shadow hovering over Seonghwa from her actual seat, but it’s far better than being right next to him and bothering him every minute of the day.”
“He bothers me every minute of the day,” you point at Wooyoung and he laughs in disbelief. “I don’t complain.”
“I don’t stalk you–”
“How did you find me today?”
“We searched for you, not stalked you, you fool!” Wooyoung retaliates and you straighten up.
“Fool?” You gape at his audacity. “How dare–”
“Guys, stop,” Seonghwa butts in and makes you both sit back down before things escalate. “She’s right. It’s not her responsibility to act as a buffer for us.”
“A sane person in this group,” you clap.
“But…” Seonghwa purses his lips guiltily as he looks at you. “We’re not letting you leave until you agree that you won’t switch seats with Nabi.”
The gasp that escapes your mouth is one of betrayal. “You’ll miss all your classes.”
“I never wanted to be the model student,” Seonghwa flicks his bangs away dramatically, and in that moment, you think that you see a little bit of Wooyoung in him. But as you look around, watching their proud faces as they smile at Seonghwa, you realise two things.
They’re all the same.
They won’t back down.
“Why me?” You ask in defeat, finally accepting the cupcake and Jongho smiles like a proud father.
“Because sweetheart,” Wooyoung leans forward, spooning some chocolate chips to sprinkle over your cupcake. “I have a feeling that you’re just like us. And I’m never wrong. I didn’t become your servant for no reason,” he says, offering you some tissues and you listen to his reasoning as you eat the cupcake. “I recognise the glint in your eyes. You’re kind of… a menace yourself too.”
You narrow your eyes but don’t deny anything and he takes note of that.
“I don’t know what happened to you or why you’ve decided to just hide in this school now,” he continues, “But I’m not going to let you create a shell around yourself when you’re a gleaming pearl. It’s just a shame that not everybody can see that.”
Your lips curve into an ‘oh’. “Didn’t realise you were a poet too. Apart from being a certified yapper.”
“I’m a man of many talents,” he points at the table. “Baked last night just for you. I got a whiff of your evil little plan to switch seats.”
“How?”
Wooyoung simply smiles in response which makes you wonder if one of his talents is reading minds.
What you don’t realise is that you had been far too obvious.
It was Yeosang who overheard your conversation with Nabi about switching seats. At first, they thought that you would switch instantly like any normal person, but when you didn’t, they started to think that you were onto something. They watched you observe Seonghwa and Nabi for the following days and Wooyoung decided to continue with his self-proclaimed servant persona, just to annoy Nabi, since she could have been getting these treats too.
The more they interacted with you, the more they liked you– first, it was because it was so obvious that Nabi had an instant dislike for you. You were sitting next to Seonghwa– not right next to him, but still close enough. You were struggling to fit in and Seonghwa, ever the saint, was guiding you academically, in a very subtle, casual and easygoing manner, though Wooyoung always butted in and made things a little more… fun. They also noticed how you were able to match the freak of the freakiest freak in their group, Wooyoung, and decided that he needed competition.
What really sealed the deal was when you confronted Nabi when you found her going through Seonghwa’s notes while he and his friends were absent from the class. It was something you did without realising the implications– you simply asked Nabi if Seonghwa knew that she was going through his notes. She smiled and said something about how they’re old friends and didn’t mind stuff like this, but the way she immediately went back to her seat confirmed your suspicions. The boy who sat in front of you told Seonghwa about the little interaction.
So it was no wonder that you were here today, trapped with this sugar bait with orders not to leave the room until you agreed to go back to your original seating position. If the boys were going to miss all the classes today with you, then so be it. You were not going to back down.
“Toilet break?” You ask after a couple of hours, seated near the window on a chair with a comic in your hand. Mingi seemed to have quite the collection.
Wooyoung narrows his eyes at you, suspecting your every move. You raise a brow in challenge. “You won’t be denying a girl her toilet break, will you?”
“Guards,” Wooyoung called and Yunho and San got up almost mechanically. “Accompany her to the toilet. Make sure you use the one on the upper levels so she does not have an exit.”
“Yes sir!” San and Yunho proceed to station themselves in front of the door, waiting for you. You roll your eyes so hard that it sends a wave of pain in your head.
“I’m also going to be making a stop at the canteen,” you announce. “I think I’ll be sick if I eat any more of those sweets.”
“Oh, yes, please,” Yeosang takes out a pen and notepad and starts scribbling something on it. You watch him with mild interest and when he tears the page and hands it to you, you realise with horror that it’s his order. “While you’re at it, get us something too.”
“You get them,” you tuck the paper into San’s pocket. “Or Wooyoung does. I’m not the slave here.”
San chuckles and opens the door for you and you take a moment to breathe in with your hands on your hips as if finally free from prison. The boys station themselves outside the toilets while you freshen up and you take your sweet, sweet time, spending too long in front of the mirror. However, when you step out and find them unfazed, you realise that you should up your game.
It is recess time and it’s crowded. You could easily make a run for it. Before you can take that defiant step forwards, San and Yunho both link their arms with yours and you gape at them in disbelief.
“Not so quick, Missy,” Yunho teases. “I could practically smell the scheming.”
You make a face at him and let them steer you to the cafeteria. On the way, you try again. “50 bucks each. Let me go.”
“Try again,” San says.
“70. I don’t have any more.”
“That’s your loss,” he pats your head and you barely contain an animalistic growl. When you reach the cafeteria, though, they let you go.
Yunho gives you a warning look, reminding you that they’re trusting you for now. “Let’s divide and conquer. You grab the snacks. We’ll get the trays. Let’s have a meal before we go back.”
That is a tempting offer. The cafeteria meal here isn’t bad at all.
The three of you split and you go to the other end to grab some drinks and snacks with the money the boys gave you. You struggle to carry everything and drop a packet of chips but someone is kind enough to pick it for you–
Of course it’s Nabi.
You suddenly get why Seonghwa dislikes her. She really does watch and hover.
“Are you sure you can eat that much?” She teases but you let her help you. You spot San at the far end of the room, waiting for you and Yunho.
“Uh, these are obviously not for me. Not all of them.”
“Oh, have you made some friends then?” She asks coyly. “I didn’t see you in class today.”
At that moment, you dislike her perhaps as much as Wooyoung does. Her voice is annoying, her acting is bad. She’s pretending too hard to be nice.
You also let the little things that she does get to you. The ones you were previously consciously ignoring. The way she pokes her things against your back during class and claims she did it by mistake. The way she accidentally kicks your chair far too often, especially when it’s clear that you’re about to doze off.
“Why, yes, I have,” you return her smile and she looks surprised. “Can you help me get these to them?”
“Of course,” she frowns. “I didn’t realise you had any friends.”
“Oh, it happened too suddenly,” you say and when you navigate closer to where San and Yunho are both sitting now, her steps grow hesitant.
San and Yunho frown at the sight of Nabi accompanying you and they almost think that you have betrayed them. However, you loudly say, “These are my new friends. She was just wondering who I’m carrying so many snacks for.”
“You guys came to school today? All of you?” She asked, suspicious eyes flickering among the three of you. “Where have you been?”
“Narnia,” Yunho says and San smiles, not offering anything else to Nabi. She shoots you a glare and drops the snacks on the table, pivots on her heels and leaves. You curb a smile and glance over at the duo who look far too proud of you.
“What?” You ask with a short laugh as you dig into the meal. They don’t say much, just give you one of their chicken croquettes each as a token of gratitude and you laugh in disbelief, shaking your head. “That’s it? That’s how easy it is to win over you guys?”
“Do you know what influence Nabi has?” San reminded you. “The queen bee of this school. No one does what you just did.”
“I didn’t do anything,” you say with a pout. “I just told her you guys are my friends.”
“What she heard was that you have been skipping classes with Seonghwa,” Yunho explained. “She’s gonna be so mad. She might even report us to the teachers, in which case, get ready for a punishment tomorrow, y/n.”
“No way,” you scoffed. “That’s… petty.”
The boys don’t need to remind you to go back with them to their hideout. You naturally walk with them, learning more about this school and its ‘power hierarchy’ from the duo. Before you know it, you are back to the hideout and spilling the tea to the rest who appreciate your bold move and thank you for bringing these snacks for them.
In the midst of conversation, fun banters and games, you find yourself wondering why you were ever hostile towards them or apprehensive of the idea that you could still make friends here. Granted, you are not sure if you are ready to be a part of their group and be associated with them, or be called a friend by them, but…
You do not mind this one bit.
Sitting around the table with them, having dragged it near the lone sofa for more space, eight pairs of eyes follow the path of the guava-flavoured candy which San tosses into the air for you. You almost miss but are quick to catch it in your mouth and the room fills with the echoes of your laughter, friendly banter ensuing when the boys quarrel about who is a better shot. You take your turn and you are cheered on, and it almost feels like you’re with a group of childhood friends. It almost feels like these are your people and that you are never meant to be separated from them.
Going back to class is forgotten. The whole fiasco about switching back to your original seat is also long forgotten. You simply have fun for the first time in a while. You look up at the ceiling when you laugh, finding butterflies painted all over them and you briefly think that this group of friends is as free and joyful as butterflies.
“Ayo, sunbae!”
Wooyoung calls and the poor girl who was obviously hiding with her friends from the rest of the school to sneak in a smoke curses under her breath and drops the cigarette, crushing it under her shoe. She rolls her eyes once, hard, before plastering what looks like a genuine smile.
“Wooyoung! My favourite junior,” she spreads her arms and Wooyoung shares a rather manly hug with the senior, bumping fists with the other girl and the boys. He either has not noticed the cigarette or is purposely ignoring it, but at the same time, you appreciate how the senior hid the cigarette– or maybe it was because of the foreign presence (you).
You watch the interaction with mild curiosity and one of the boys poke you in the back, propelling you forwards. The senior regards you with interest and scans you slowly before turning to Wooyoung with a questioning look.
“This,” he says with his hand extended towards you and you are once again gently pushed in front of Wooyoung, “is y/n. The latest addition to the group.”
You make a show of rolling your eyes, asserting that you still don’t consider yourself a part of their tightly-knit group, but Wooyoung and the rest aren’t having any of it. The senior, however, catches that.
“Are you being bullied by them?” She asks. “Blink twice if you need help.”
You blink thrice.
“Come sit,” she says, patting the space next to her and you gladly accept. You tell her that you like her hair very much and she smiles. The red highlights in her hair really accentuate her edgy appearance.
“If any one of these hooligans bother you, you come to me,” she says and extends her hand. You shake it. “The name’s Yuna.”
“Hooligans?” This time, San beats Wooyoung in squaring up against the seniors but one glare from the girls humbles him right up. He shrugs all too casually, scratching the back of his neck with the pout on his mouth deepening with each passing second. “I’m not a bad guy.”
“Did you forget the time you almost made Inhyuk sunbaenim cry?”
Bewildered, you look at Yuna and then at San who looks anything but the hooligan Yuna claims that he is. If Yuna is referring to this Inhyuk dude as her senior, he must have been at least two years San’s senior. And he… almost made him cry?
You reckon that Hongjoong notices the temptation in your eyes– the temptation to ask for an explanation. He fixes his glasses rather proudly, smacking San’s back to remind him to straighten his shoulders.
“He has got nothing to be sorry about,” Hongjoong claims.
“Inhyuk sunbaenim was a bully, so we got our small-eyed duo to knock some sense into him.”
You don’t know why but your gaze shifts to Mingi and he looks betrayed. He smacks his foot on the ground as he calls you out and you raise your hands in surrender while the rest burst out in laughter.
“We keep them to intimidate bullies,” Yuna explains. “Them with me and Hyorin over there,” she points at her classmate, a tall girl with too many piercings. You wonder how the school allows that. “We’re the guards of sorts.”
“They don’t seem like the type to win in a fight, though,” you point at San and Mingi.
“They’re not,” Yuna laughs. “Jongho and Yeosang step in during the real fights.”
Jongho, you get. But Yeosang comes as a surprise and he grins shyly, further proving your point. There is no way he possesses the ability to harm a living, breathing thing.
“Anyways,” Yuna drapes her arm around your shoulder and you curb a grin. “I hope these boys have been treating you well. It’s good to hear that you’re a part of our group now, but let me know if you want out. I know these shitheads can be clingy.”
“Yeah, or if you’re a weird one, let us know in advance,” one of the senior boys says.
“We don’t want another Nabi on our asses,” the other boy quips and you narrow your eyes, watching your boys shift with unease.
“Intak and Channie never know when to shut up,” Yuna complains.
“What happened with Nabi?” You ask and Yuna looks back and forth between you and the boys.
“So they told you the mild version of it, huh?” She laughs. “Not my story to tell, but she’s a real piece of work.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised that after Nabi, they’re open to having a girl in their group,” Intak says and Hyorin agrees. “I think they’re friends with our girls because they don’t consider them… as girls, if I’m honest–”
“Hey!” Hyorin takes off her slipper and chucks it at Intak. Chan shrugs, point proven.
“That’s not true!” Yeosang argues. “Jongho still has a crush on–”
“Oh, look,” Jongho points at the distance. It must be divine intervention that the devil you were just thinking about is seen walking with her friends towards the basketball court. Thus Jongho succeeds in distracting everyone. Nabi– the divine devil in question– does not notice the group of you. You hear a muffled scream and follow Jongho’s gaze.
Yep. He most definitely has a crush on Yuna.
“One day when I’m no longer bound by the school rules,” Yuna begins, cracking her knuckles. “I’ll have a good conversation with Nabi. Girl to girl.”
She clenches her jaw as silence ensues with the weight of her threat hanging in the air. However, Yuna soon breaks out into a smile when she turns her attention to you.
“Got any questions? Anything you’d like to know? I’ve got everything– secrets and dirt on everyone.”
“You don’t want her as your enemy,” Wooyoung concludes and then grabs your hand and pulls you towards him. “Let’s go. I just wanted to introduce you so she can keep an eye out for you.”
“Okay, firstly,” you begin, “I can take care of myself–”
“Ooh.”
“Damn.”
“Tell him.”
You give the seniors a side-eye and continue. “Secondly, I think eight sets of eyes ‘looking out for me’ are enough. Why do you think I’ll ever get in trouble when you guys never leave me alone?”
“Give her some space, boys,” Yuna pleads in your case. “Let her breathe.”
Wooyoung grunts in disappointment but reluctantly lets go of your hand. You scoff but he seems too tired to match your energy and you wonder if he took it to heart.
You soon learn that their idea of giving space to you seems to differ from yours by a whole lot. They have definitely taken it to heart– at least some of them.
You can’t tell if they’re doing it on purpose, but Wooyoung is not bothering you every minute of the day, and it’s bothering you now. When you find yourself worrying about this, you smack your head. Isn’t this what you wanted in the first place?
But he hardly acknowledges you anymore. When something funny happens in the class, he no longer looks at you though you find yourself looking at him. Jongho is not very talkative either. The rest are just the same but still a bit… distant.
You’re positive that they’ve misunderstood you, and you find yourself sitting in the secret hideout alone, bunking one of the lessons to just rethink your friendship with them again. Nabi sure seems to be making the most out of your misery, if it can be called a misery in the first place.
“Trouble in paradise?” She asked one day. You just made a face at her and luckily, Hongjoong called you over at the same time. At least Nabi didn’t get the satisfaction of rubbing it in your face.
You are also a bit curious about what happened with Nabi. You even debate asking her– why is she so obsessed with this group?
You’ve heard enough rumours now. Since you’ve adjusted to the class in the past couple of months, the girls talk sometimes. You’ve heard about how Nabi, Seonghwa, Yunho and Hongjoong used to have a study group but something happened after which they broke their friendship with Nabi. That something probably has to do with Seonghwa, you reckon, but you can’t probe since it seems to be a sensitive topic.
You don’t know exactly how long you spend spacing out in the room, but nobody joins you. You wonder if it’s just that the excitement of being friends has died down, but you kind of miss everybody. School doesn’t feel like fun anymore. It’s only been a few days, but everything has started to feel different. You can’t focus on your studies properly– or anything, for that matter.
While you think about what went wrong and what you can fix– if there’s any fixing to be done in the first place– you play with the softball, chucking it in the makeshift net and missing. You try again and again, but you only manage to make a successful shot a handful of times. One time, the ball misses and hits a frame on the shelf and you flinch, wondering if you broke something.
Upon inspecting, it is a group photo that seems to have been captured in a photobooth. The eight of them are squished against each other and you can barely see Jongho and Yeosang but they seem so happy and carefree there. You don’t realise how big of a smile you’re sporting until you catch your reflection in the frame and your smile drops.
You want to be a part of this. If they’ve taken the first step towards you– no, if they’ve taken so many steps towards you, it is ungrateful of you to keep walking away from them.
Adamant to make amends of sorts, you go to the canteen and get eight packs of bread and eight packs of flavoured milk for the boys. You know exactly the kind of bread they like and the flavour of milk that they like– each one of them. You go to class and place a pack of bread and milk on their tables– they must be getting changed for gym. Nabi eyes you with curiosity but you don’t pay much heed to her, although you ask her if she’s hungry. She only grunts in response and you stifle a smile.
When the boys return, they hesitate in their tracks. Some of them thank you and open up their snacks. Wooyoung doesn’t really regard the treats and you fold your arms.
“Are you angry with me?”
He meets eyes with you for the first time in a while. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Well…” you shrug in mild discomfort. “You’re not… talkative anymore. Not with me.”
Wooyoung suppresses a smile and rests his head on his hand rather cockily. “Do you miss me?”
You scoff in disbelief but seven expectant pairs of eyes are fixed on you and you fidget nervously. “I mean… yeah? I do. What about it? Can we just go back to normal?”
Wooyoung thinks for a good few moments. He nods, and to your horror, the rest of the boys– all seven of them– produce cash out of their pockets and set it on Wooyoung’s desk. Wooyoung counts the cash and tucks it safely in his pocket and then looks at you with the most shit-eating smirk you’ve ever seen on a human.
“Got you.”
“Jung Wooyoung!”
While he laughs loud and proud, you snatch the snacks from the table and make a dash for the door, Wooyoung right on your heel as he yells at you to come back. Your laughs and screams echo in the corridor and you can make out the rest of the boys following the two of you, just to witness the scene. You hop down the stairs with caution though you are screaming all the way, and that’s where Wooyoung manages to successfully tackle you and you barely avoid an accident, making it down safely with his arms around your waist and your legs swinging in the air.
“Let. Me. Down!” You laugh loudly and he swings you in circles until you feel dizzy, though you can’t stop laughing.
“That’s what you get for asking for some space!” Wooyoung says as he sets you down. “Tell me if you still want some space and I’ll gladly leave you alone.”
“I can’t believe you guys bet on this!” You retort, clutching your sides that are currently hurting from laughing too much. “What was the deal?”
“Wooyoung was sure he was going to break you within 3 days,” Jongho explains. “We were sure you could manage 5, but clearly we were wrong.”
You pout. “I thought you guys were cross with me. For real.”
“Come on, weren’t we acting normal?” Yunho asks. “We wanted to win the bet. I thought we were the same.”
“No, but it didn’t feel the same without Wooyoung, I guess…” you scratch the back of your neck.
“You love me. I know,” Wooyoung spreads his arms to bring you into a hug but you ignore him, taking refuge behind Seonghwa who claims that he told Wooyoung to tone it down a little.
“My turn to be angry with you,” you promise Wooyoung. “Let’s see how long you last.”
“No time for that,” he shakes his head. “The basketball practice games start next week and we’re competing against our rival team in two months’ time. We need to cheer for them.”
That piques your interest. You learn that the regional competition is taking place soon and the KQ Stallions are aiming for the first spot. Unsurprisingly, your school’s team is very good and almost always makes it to the top 3, though they haven’t earned the 1st position just yet.
Mingi and Wooyoung ask you to join them in cheering for their team and you find that it is not something casual– they are very serious about cheerleading. They have good reasons to be, for San and Jongho are playing in the team this year. Yunho is the substitute which means that he has to be on standby.
The princesses of the group choreograph your cheers to perfection. It is a sport in itself, but you quite enjoy it, especially since the cheerleading group has grown much bigger by the day with more students joining you, and Mingi and Wooyoung are already making plans on how to up their cheerleading strategies when the KQ Stallions advance to the finals.
When, and not if, and you love that confidence.
For the next few weeks, you settle into a routine with the boys– if it can be called that. Every morning, a few of them catch you by the gates and you make your way to class together. There are no longer any bets or formality between you and the boys. Slowly but surely, they have opened your heart to them and once again, you find yourself with friends that might just last for life.
Although, you think of those words with caution. Your childhood friends didn’t last. You sometimes wonder if it was a shame to leave things on a bitter note with your friends from your previous school. The timing of how you had to move because of your parents with what happened at school was an unlucky coincidence. But thanks to Wooyoung especially, you are once again willing to try the idea of friendship.
Your hideout now has a beaded curtain that you had hung with the help of Hongjoong– something from your previous home that you no longer needed. Hongjoong and Yeosang sometimes add some shiny ornaments that they bring from home on the strings of the curtain and the sunlight reflects beautifully on them, creating a kaleidoscopic effect at times.
You and Mingi rather enjoy sitting under the curtains with your comic books while Hongjoong naps with his head on Mingi’s lap since Mingi hogs the lone pillow. Seonghwa moderates the basketball boys who practise with balls of different sizes in the hideout. They manage to practise passing and dribbling in this small space. Yeosang becomes the damage control or the human shield, making sure the ball doesn’t somehow manage to hit Hongjoong square in the face. Something tells you it has happened quite a few times and there is a reason Yeosang so willingly guards the slumbering beast.
Sometimes, after school if you are all free and there is no practice, you make a trip to the convenience store and the chefs, Wooyoung and Seonghwa, make a variety of ramens with whatever ingredients they can find. You join the tables outside to make a big dinner table and spread the goods on it. Ramen after school tastes better for some reason. The convenience store part-timer is an old lady who adores Wooyoung so she lets you be and you think she enjoys watching you guys having fun, though every now and then she warns you to keep it down.
The boys may be all fun and games but they take their studies very seriously, all of them. Most of the time, they study on their own when they go home but sometimes, you all gather at someone’s house to prepare for exams and you find that there is a reason the boys are the way they are. They all grew up with loving parents who think of their child’s friends as their own.
One time, you muster the courage and invite the boys to your place to study. It is not that part which requires your courage, but admitting to your parents that you have made friends.
Your mother regards you with worry. “Are you sure? We don’t want you depressed again, unable to focus after what happened last time.”
Last time. When one of your old friends created a rift in your group and made you all break up, all because of her insecurities because she felt ‘left out’. You later realised that she just wanted you out because she did not like how you managed to be the ‘centre of attention’ everywhere.
Was it your fault that you made an effort to involve everyone? Did that make you an attention-seeker? Was this what you deserved after making sure your odd group of five friends lasted forever? You never realised how much venom that friend had in her heart. After she made up a story about you spilling your friends’ secrets to another group in your class and none of your friends believed you, you distanced yourself. If that was the trust they had in you, then you were fine by yourself.
However, the sudden change took a toll on you. Your grades fell considerably and with your father’s sudden job relocation, you came to terms with the fact that this is how your childhood ends.
But when you nod to your mother with hopeful eyes, she breaks out into a smile and tells you that she hopes that your friends this time are nice. You promise that they are. When she learns that it’s a group of eight boys, she bursts into laughter and shakes her head.
“They better be treating you like a princess.”
“Don’t worry, mom. They treat me like a queen.”
Your mother sees that. The boys arrive dressed more neatly than usual, appearing well-kempt. Wooyoung, ever the charmer, has a bouquet of flowers for your mother. The rest of the boys have pitched in to buy some fruits. Your mother fusses over them and learns their names and thanks them. She cooks up a feast while you study in the living room, the study-group trio leading everyone.
You find that it saves time to study with them– each one of them is good at one thing or the other. Jongho has a knack for predicting the content of the exams, and he swears that he isn’t a spy. He just assesses patterns, he claims. Yeosang and Hongjoong are good at maths. Seonghwa is good at making notes. Yunho is an all-rounder but San excels in English. You excel in Korean and History, while Wooyoung and Mingi are good at the science subjects. Together, you help each other with ease and the group study sessions pass in a breeze.
Your first exams go well. You manage to maintain the good grades from your previous school, and notice how you score better in subjects you were formerly weak in. That is one box checked from your mental list.
The other box is the first basketball game, and you’re more worried about it than you thought you would be. Perhaps, it is because you are so roped in with the boys now that it starts to feel like your team and your victory or defeat. You start to feel like a coach yourself, fretting over the basketball trio just like the rest, showering them in treats and cool, refreshing drinks. Anything to make sure that they are in top condition.
However, the trio seems to take advantage of your kindness.
One day, you find yourself on the school field, a lone warrior standing with no one to defend herself. Your heart is thumping at an erratic pace. Sweat pools from every crevice and you want to move but you remain frozen in your spot for the fear of your life. Every instinct tells you to move but you cannot. You are not allowed to.
There is a beer glass perched on the top of your head, upside down. The basketball trio is taking turns practising their aim with an actual basketball. Not one of the soft balls or bouncy balls back in the hideout, no. They want to practise with the real thing, and because you lost in rock, paper, scissors, you have to be the sacrificial lamb for the day.
They might as well tie you to the tree with an apple on top of your head and practise their shooting skills.
“San– stop!” You can’t help but scream as the ball flies closer and you shut your eyes. Each time they manage to hit the beer glass successfully, you sigh in relief and almost collapse to your knees. The trio celebrates while the others either laugh, enjoying this a bit too much, or move around anxiously because fear someone might actually hit you square in the face.
“Can’t I turn around?” You plead your case again and turn to Seonghwa who seems to be the only one actually worried. The rest are too busy betting on who will break your nose today. The basketball trio keeps telling you to have some trust in their skills but they’re not the ones standing with the beer glass on top of their head.
“Brain damage,” Wooyoung counters, “is worse than a broken nose.”
“Well then, why don’t you stand in my place, huh?” You offer. The boys laugh harder when you tap your temple aggressively. “Since it’s stuffed with hay up here.”
“I’m not the one who lost the game, sweetheart,” he smirks devilishly. “Come on. 3 shots left. You can make out of this alive. Have some trust in them. They’ve got killer aims.”
“Killer aim…” you repeat. “Killing which target?”
“We’re not that bad, and you know it,” Yunho says as he orders you to stand straight and not move. Apparently, moving out of reflex might make them lose their aim. You believe that Yunho probably has the least chances of missing his target since he’s so tall that he can probably see the back of your head as well.
You accept your fate and shut your eyes, willing yourself to not pee in your pants. Just like that, Yunho plays his last shot and successfully hits the beer glass which falls with a dramatic clack. As the boys cheer, you almost sink to your knees. Yunho pats you in encouragement but you scowl at him, promising revenge.
“Just so you know, I’m the best shot,” Jongho says as he takes his position in front of you a good 6 feet away. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s San you should be scared of– he sometimes tends to let his emotions control his aim.”
“But I’m feeling good today,” San counters. “I haven’t missed a shot. You missed one.”
“She moved,” Jongho reminds him.
“This cocky attitude of yours is going to get to you one day,” You promise Jongho.
“Let’s hope that day is not today,” Jongho says and chucks the ball in your direction without warning.
You seem to have jinxed yourself. This time, you hardly have any time to shut your eyes before you feel the ball collide with your face.
There is a moment of silence. A blissful moment of no sensations before you feel something wet on your lips and you curl inwards, clutching your nose. Hot, burning pain is all you feel for a good few moments, apart from the ringing in your ears.
“Oh, my god… are you okay?” Jongho is also the first one to approach you. The rest are too busy gasping and clutching their heads in disbelief.
“What do you think–”
“Choi Jongho!”
It is not one of the boy's voices you hear. It is Yuna, your senior and your saviour, who calls his name like it’s her last rite.
“I can explain–” Jongho barely has time to say before he’s running for his life with Yuna and the rest of her friends out for him, each holding one of their shoes in their hands, ready to deliver a beating. You chuckle at the scene but groan in pain.
It is Yunho who gently moves your hands away from your nose to inspect the injury. He sighs in relief and that is how you know your nose is not broken. With a handkerchief, he pinches your nose to stop the bleeding. You try to move out of his grasp because of the pain but he holds you close and smiles apologetically.
“I’ve got you. Just stay still.”
This close, you can make out the flecks of brown in his eyes. You wriggle a bit but feel someone hold you in place from behind.
“That’s what you’ve been telling her for the last half an hour.”
It is Seonghwa. He tucks your hair away, not minding how sweaty your forehead is. You pass a weak smile and when Yunho pulls away, Seonghwa cleans the blood off your upper lips with his sleeve.
In that moment, you forget that these boys are the same people who led you to the altar that got you the bleeding nose in the first place. Wooyoung arrives to your rescue next with a bottle of water and Yeosang has ice in another thermos that he always carries with him.
Now you know why.
“You guys,” you chuckle in disbelief, especially when you spot Jongho still running for his life and the seniors livid. “You’re all insufferable.”
They share grins and help you get up. Thankfully, your nose doesn’t feel as bad as before, especially with the ice but Yeosang still suggests a trip to the nurse's office. You move to the water stands, wanting to wash your face and the boys follow you closely, promising to teach Jongho a lesson.
When you are done washing your face, Jongho arrives with an apologetic look and his hair sticking out in different directions, probably from whatever Yuna and Hyorin did to him (nothing much, you’re sure). He is out of breath, his cheeks flushed from running so much but he still can’t contain his smile.
“Come on, best shot,” you tease. “Say it.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, giggling like a 5 year old who just learnt a bad joke.
“Do better,” you say dismissively, washing your arms.
“I’m genuinely sorry,” he tries again and you regard him. He purses his lips and looks down. “It’s just… your nose is swollen and it looks funny–”
That is it. The last straw. You turn the tap full and block it with your hand before anyone can react. Jongho gets sprayed with a sharp stream of water and when you stop, he looks at you in disbelief with water dripping from his hair and face.
“Again!” Wooyoung announces and the boys scramble to grab Jongho and keep him in place and this time, Hongjoong and Seonghwa help you with the taps. While Jongho screams in defiance, your laughter fills the air–
Until Seonghwa’s spray hits your back.
“Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“Get him!” Hongjoong says the battle call.
The seniors watch from a distance as the 9 of you spray each other with water. Jongho has definitely gotten the worst of it, drenched from head to toes. Whenever someone sprays you with water, the seniors yell their name in warning. If you weren’t wearing black gymwear, the seniors would have buried the boys alive by now.
All pain is forgotten as you splash each other with water. Someone tackles you in a hug and steers you in the direction of the jet stream one of the boys produces from the tap. Someone shields you with their body in a chivalrous manner. All that matters is that you are laughing like there is no care in the world.
The day of the basketball game against the rival team arrives. The victory of this match will lead to the KQ Stallions’ qualification to the regionals.
The school is in a different state today– the floors are polished, the teachers are enthusiastic and the students are feeling energised. The colours of the KQ Stallions are everywhere. By the time school comes to an end, almost everyone has something red on them– paint on their faces, polish on their nails, ribbon in their hair or a red flag with black stripes in their hand.
Hongjoong has taken it upon himself to make sure the cheerleaders match. You wait for your turn and when you stand in front of him, the both of you grin widely. You catch some dried paint on his hair from the sunlight that pours on him through the window of the classroom and you brush it off while he dips his brush in the paint.
“Excited?” He asks, even though he knows the answer.
“I’m positive I’ll crash from adrenaline overload before the game even starts,” you tell him. He nods, pointedly looking at the way you’re almost bouncing on your legs.
“Stay still,” he instructs and you mutter a ‘yessir’. He gently grabs you by the chin and tilts your face to the left to paint a red stripe across your cheek. He tilts it to the right and does the same, focused.
Then he switches his brush for the black paint and you notice how his hand is still cradling your chin. You also notice how close you are– when he paints the black stripes, you think that you can feel his breath caress your cheeks.
And if that’s not enough, he blows on the paint. Just for you. He didn’t do it for anyone else, you notice. He also tucks the strands of your hair back so they don’t catch in the wet paint.
You stand doe-eyed and for the first time, your heart flutters. You don’t know if he notices, but when he’s done, he pats your shoulder and asks you to find Seonghwa, who he says must be hiding somewhere, shirking his duties. He was supposed to be helping him.
You’re still making sense of this weird feeling in your chest when you take a turn in the corridor and you almost crash into someone. That someone is none other than Seonghwa who reflexively grabs your wrists and steadies you.
“Oh, it’s you,” he says and leans closer to inspect the paint on your cheeks. This close, you can see the twinkle in his eyes and the flutter in your heart intensifies. You subconsciously pull away from him.
“Hongjoong did a good job,” he grins. “Did he ask you to find me?”
“Uh, yeah,” you manage to say, mouth suddenly dry. “He thinks you’re hiding.”
“He’s not wrong,” Seonghwa laughs. “Went to stretch my back. You want one?”
He offers you candies and you take the strawberry one. He takes the orange. You unwrap it and pop it in your mouth, focusing on the taste. You listen to him talk about something but you’re too busy processing what just happened, and when Yeosang joins you, you’re glad for the distraction.
Once it’s time, you all head to the basketball court. You don’t get to meet the basketball trio up close as they are being lectured by their coach, but you catch Jongho’s attention and yell ‘break a nose!’ to which he shakes his head in amusement. San and Yunho glance over in your direction and you all send finger hearts to the trio.
You find your spot in the middle of Wooyoung and Yeosang, and Mingi breaks down the moves once again to everyone present before taking his spot in front of you. He stands at the lowest row of the bleachers, the three of you on the upper row, and then the rest behind you, increasing in numbers as the rows ascend.
The basketball trio look incredibly handsome in their black tank and shorts, a red stallion embroidered on the front with their names and number on the back. They stand in front of the rival team gritting their teeth in determination and you watch with wonder how their demeanour changes. Yunho has a private moment with Jongho and San where it looks like he is giving some last instructions, and then he breaks into a smile and wishes them luck, sharing a group hug. It warms your heart infinitely and as soon as the players take position, Mingi raises his hand and you clutch the glittery black and red poms tightly and wait.
The game begins. As per Mingi’s cues, you cheer with your soul and your heart, and pause to inspect the game when he signals you to stop. Each time the KQ stallions score, you have to physically stop yourself from simply jumping up and down out of joy and stick to the choreography. However, Seonghwa and Hongjoong rub your shoulders as they share your excitement. Wooyoung and Yeosang share your enthusiasm. Mingi smiles brightly and gains strength when he looks back at his friends.
The game grows tense. The first quarter ends with KQ in the lead. All of you cheer for your team while the rivals gather around to revise their strategies. Your team toasts over water bottles and you can tell that they’re excited to be leading. The coach tells them to keep their heads in the game.
The second quarter is twice as intense. The rival team seems to have taken an aggressive stance and they make no mistakes in scoring or defending their basket. The KQ Stallions try to keep up and they do a pretty good job. The cheerleaders make sure that their excitement doesn’t die down and that your team gains some energy from your cheers. However, this time the KQ Stallions trail by a few points.
All is good. They just need to do better in the third quarter.
The third quarter is packed with nervous energy. While the first few minutes are uneventful, one of the defenders from the rival team tackles the freshman player in your team, resulting in a foul. The defender looks smug even after the warning and Yeosang tells you why.
The freshman in your team is a key scorer. If he is not able to play in full health, the team gets affected. Yunho might end up substituting in that case but it would definitely affect the morale of the team.
You’re filled with rage after hearing that, but it seems like you are not the only one. The seniors– specifically your group of friends– are unfiltered with their curses. The cheers have died down and you are all instead focusing on the game, tracking each and every move.
You don’t miss how they’re trying to take Jongho out. He is a versatile player who can defend well and shoot better (if you forget about the broken nose incident). Jongho seems to have an idea of their strategy and he focuses more on protecting himself than the ball.
The third quarter ends with a score of 56-57 with the rival team in the lead. Tension peaks and the air feels electric. Before the fourth quarter begins, both the teams take timeouts to adjust their strategies. Yunho ends up substituting for the freshman after all, who seems to have a sore ankle. It’s not good for the team for him to keep playing.
The fourth quarter begins with an ominous ring of the whistle. After a few minutes of dribbling, passing and failed shots, your trio of friends exchange signals and try to coordinate another shot. They work neatly, a bit sneakily but in full synchronisation. It’s almost like they are tuned to each other’s thoughts.
The way San throws the basketball into the hoop is nothing short of incredible and KQ finally leads by 3 points. The room bursts into a chorus of cheers and you mechanically perform the practised moves.
While the rest celebrate the lead, you are more focused on how the rival team reacts to this turn of events. They have a strong defence and with Yunho managing to find a weakness and helping coordinate a shot, you wonder if the rivals will end up making more dirty moves. You definitely smell scheming with the way they get aggressive in their actions.
As if Wooyoung has heard your thoughts, he comments, “They’re sneaky bastards but they don’t know what’s coming for them.”
The tension grows with each passing minute. With just three minutes left and a difference of 2 points, the cheerleaders have stopped cheering altogether and are watching the game with sharp eyes, following the basketball. The hall echoes with joyous shouts and groans and you don’t know when it happened, but the three of you are almost clutching at each other at the last minute.
“Oh, they’re doing it,” Yeosang notices and you look at him in confusion. “Follow Yunho. You’ll see.”
You do exactly that. Yunho passes the ball to San and San dodges the players with expertise. He is leading them to your own basket and you wonder if he’s doing the right thing, but then you notice two things–
Jongho and Yunho are straying away from the rest towards the rival’s basket which is mostly defenceless right now. With only seconds left, it looks like the rival players are leaving their posts and already preparing for a celebration.
San, however, jumps and throws the ball in Yunho’s direction. He is pulled down by a player but the ball manages to reach Yunho and panic ensues. Yunho is surrounded before he can make a goal and he throws the ball to Jongho who switches to offence and takes a risk, making a long shot at the hoop.
It’s like time slows down as everyone sucks in their breaths, anticipating whether the ball will make it into the hoop or not. Your heart sinks dangerously as the ball hits the edge and Yeosang shuts his eyes close. Wooyoung is shaking your arm in a nervous fit.
Silence ensues.
The ball hits the floor. The score changes. The timer rings.
The KQ Stallions have won the game. Jongho has managed to score.
“Oh my god,” you breathe and Yeosang finally looks at the scoreboard. “Oh my god!”
Cheerleading is forgotten and the whole team jumps up and down and you’re swallowed in group hugs. You all are screaming out of ecstasy and you feel like you could cry out of sheer joy. You can hardly contain yourselves as you wait for the KQ Stallions to stop their own celebration and finish the formalities. As soon as they’re done shaking hands with the rival teams who look thoroughly annoyed, your friends look in your direction and they run.
You all rush towards the stairs that lead down to the court and you follow Wooyoung and Yeosang who lead you with their hands in yours, making sure you’re not left behind. You can’t breathe but you’re the happiest. Mingi crushes Yunho in a hug before sharing him with the rest of you. San brings the three of you in a hug and then Jongho joins and you all take turns ruffling his hair and smothering him in affection, once again cracking jokes about how he’s a good shot but managed to break your nose anyway.
The nine of you form a circle and as you hop around, it feels like it’s a little bubble. You have created your own world, your own space, and here, it’s just happiness and excitement. Nothing can hurt you. No one can take you down. The boys squeeze in some silly dance moves and you suddenly think of the butterflies painted in your hideout room.
There used to be eight of them but now there’s another painted on the roof. You don’t know when Hongjoong painted that, but now you know what he intended.
It feels like you’re a butterfly just like them– free and happy.
Junior year passes by in a breeze.
While the KQ Stallions didn't win the regionals, their achievement of making it to the regionals is an accomplishment in itself. The boys still play basketball with as much enthusiasm, and the rest of you still cheer as if your lives depend on it.
With the passage of time, you have created a unique bond with each friend. Your dynamics have shifted with everyone but it’s still the same as the first day. Sometimes, you wonder if things between them changed– you feel like an impostor. However, they assure you that your presence has changed nothing, yet, changed everything in a good way.
You don’t know how you feel about that, but you suppose it’s nice to know how they feel about you.
Yuna had somehow learned about your hideout room and the group of four started to treat the room as their own. At first, Wooyoung and Hongjoong had protested but they had been bribed with an offer to try Yuna’s extensive collection of flavoured cigarettes. They had hesitated at first but eventually agreed to try, ignoring Seonghwa’s warnings about the dangers of smoking. You had watched with curiosity as they tried a strawberry and peach flavoured smoke and then clutched at your stomach that hurt from laughing too much when they incessantly coughed and almost threw up.
Nevertheless, they ‘allow’ Yuna and her gang to share the room (as if they had a choice in the first place). Perhaps, because it’s their senior year and they’ll miss them next year. The girls take care of you– Yuna teaches you a few things about nonchalance and dominance (you need that as the lone girl in the group of eight boys), and Hyorin teaches you all the feminine stuff.
At first, the boys cringe and only Seonghwa joins Hyorin as they style your hair or do makeup on you (where Jongho joins too– apparently, he has a knack for makeup) but then one day, San comes prepared. He shows Hyorin something new that he learned from his sister– an eyeliner hack that he tries on you.
Impressed, Yuna and Hyorin take turns having him apply their eyeliner. Seonghwa takes the seat next and the room bursts into appreciative laughter as San applies eyeliner on Seonghwa too. Wooyoung finally gives in and because the eyeliner looks so good on him, the girls fawn over him and apply some eyeshadow as well. He complains for a few moments but when he takes a look in the mirror, he caves in and can’t put the mirror down.
Thus, you juniors warm up to the presence of the seniors in your hideout, which isn’t a common occasion but welcomed now. You have snack parties and the boys who have a knack for cooking share tips and sometimes collectively bake treats for you. It is a stark difference from the first time you found yourself in this room, being bribed by treats. It feels like home now.
During the holidays, the whole lot of you make trips to the amusement park and the aquarium. One time, you go to watch a horror movie at the cinema where you learn that only Yunho and Jongho seem to possess the stamina to sit through a horror movie. You keep creating wonderful memories with your friends. The seniors don’t always join you, occupied with preparing for college but it’s fun either way.
At school, your homeroom teacher Miss Ji grows fond of your group. It looks like the boys are behaving this time so they’ll be in the same class in senior year too. You pray with your whole heart that senior year will be just like this. Nabi, however, stays salty with you. She doesn’t bother you very much anymore, but it’s clear that she still has a strong dislike for you.
You don’t care. The boys protect you fiercely, but even if they didn’t, you can stand on your own now. You have learned your lesson from your previous school. You know how to stand up for yourself.
You have to learn to stand up for yourself because the boys take any and every chance to prank someone and then point fingers at another. It is a joke, of course, but it has strengthened your debating skills and survival skills. It turns into a warzone pretty quickly with them, but in the end, it’s all fun and games.
It’s all fun and games. From racing each other to the cafeteria or earning punishment for the whole group during gym where the teacher makes all of you run extra laps. Cooling off under the shade and having water splashed on you which turns into a water fight. A protective throw of someone’s jacket onto you to cover yourself as the boys flush because they forgot that you are a girl. You flush deeper because you forgot that you are a girl too.
Then there are the trips to the convenience store during school as the nine of you sneak out, jumping over the walls. The twin towers of the group act as stepping stones for you to help you make it to the other side of the wall. Mingi usually does the throwing and Yunho catches you in his arms. His ears turn red and your cheeks flush without fail every time you make a run to the store. You both look at each other and laugh shyly.
Towards the end of the junior year, the nine of you go to the riverside one evening to have a dinner of ramen and take a break. Finals are approaching and the stress is palpable, so you sometimes make little trips like these to calm your nerves. The seniors couldn’t join you which is a shame but you know you’ll have fun either way.
After a hearty meal of ramen and kimbap, Hongjoong takes out a ukulele and Mingi, who sits next to you, turns a pot upside down and grabs some sticks from the trees, ready to play his makeshift drum. The boys start to sing their favourite songs and you join them, clapping in harmony. It’s a lovely moment and you can’t help but feel giddy. Yeosang and San couple dance in the middle and Wooyoung sings for them.
When you’re packing your belongings and preparing to go back, you catch Wooyoung who is zipping his bag.
“I didn’t realise you could sing so well,” you start and he smiles, pleased with himself.
“Why, thank you,” he grins.
“No, I mean it,” you say and he pauses to look at you. His voice is still echoing in your head, lulling you into a calm headspace. “You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s the truth.”
Wooyoung raises his brows. “You’ve told me to shut up so many times that I can’t believe what you’re saying.”
You laugh. “I mean your singing voice. Not yapping voice–”
He is quick to bring you in a chokehold and you tap on his arm to indicate that you surrender. He shifts his arm to bring you close and stares at you.
“You mean it?” He asks.
You look at him. His eyes are wide and eager with anticipation.
“I mean it. I need you to sing more and yap less.”
“Oh, you love it when I yap,” he says. You don’t deny it.
He kisses your temple. While it’s something that he does everyday, this time, he lingers and kisses your cheek too. You feel the onset of butterflies in your stomach and you can’t believe it.
Before you can process this moment, San joins you and welcomes you with a kiss to your cheek too. You almost groan but the way he looks at you with so much fondness melts your heart and you realise he isn’t teasing you. He’s just… being himself.
“You alright?” He asks.
“I’m fine. I told him he has a nice voice. Make sure it doesn’t get to his head,” you say and wring out of their grip, leaving them snickering. You take refuge behind Yeosang who, ever your protective friend, tucks you further behind him. It reminds you of the time you used to call Wooyoung the assailant. Jongho pokes you in the side and makes you fold over, the three of you running in circles to get each other.
Your laughter carries throughout the semester. Junior year comes to a beautiful conclusion and you part ways with the boys for the holidays. You share a teary-eyed farewell with the seniors and promise to stay in contact and meet up often. They assure you that they won’t leave you alone and that every now and then, you can expect them at the hideout. It sounds like a promise to you and a threat to the boys– the seniors warn them. Take care of our little sister.
Take care they do. While you don’t meet up for the first half of the holidays, all of you travelling around to meet your families, you do occasional meetups at cafes and arcades with anyone who is able to join. The group chat remains alive and it almost feels like you’ve never parted.
Senior year arrives. It is the first day of school, a year apart. Cherry blossoms fill the streets again, blooming in all their pastel pink glory, contrasting beautifully with the morning blue sky. The clouds look nothing short of cotton today, fluffy and full.
Just like last year, children are on their way to school and playing games on the streets again. They focus on stepping or avoiding the petals, challenging each other playfully. The old folk sit to bask in the scene. The students look nervous but the blossom shower seems to help soothe their souls.
And then there is your group of seniors. You’re all waiting at the designated intersection for Mingi and Yunho to arrive. While you wait, you’re all chatting among yourselves and catching up. San recounts a trip to his hometown to visit his grandparents. Wooyoung has far too many stories to share. Yeosang can apparently play the violin now and he is being assigned as the musician in your hideout now. Hongjoong and Seonghwa argue about their plans for college.
Jongho, who has dyed his hair red over the holidays, is wondering how he’ll get past the guard and the teachers. You tease him about how he’s definitely inspired by a certain senior he had a crush on. He no longer reacts when you mention it or tease him about his little crush over Yuna. It seems like he has gotten over it, or realised that it was more admiration than crush.
The twin towers arrive, waving enthusiastically from the distance. You all pretend to be mad since you waited a good 15 minutes for them, but when Mingi pulls the zipper of his bag to reveal snacks, you all decide to forgive and forget. The duo is welcomed warmly and you all start to walk towards the school.
“Oh, look at that,” Seonghwa points at a boy and a girl trying to catch the petals from the trees. They seem to be juniors. “They must have heard the saying about how catching a falling petal grants your wish or brings you luck.”
“Or makes you find your true love,” you say spontaneously and Seonghwa glances at you with a smile. You suddenly feel shy. “I think that’s the most common belief associated with catching falling petals.”
“Well, it’s not hard to catch them,” Seonghwa attempts to catch a petal but misses. “Perhaps, that is why the saying exists. So we believe that finding your true love isn’t a very hard thing.”
“So that we do not lose hope and believe in our luck,” you add and he agrees. “Is it supposed to be catching a petal at the same time as the other…?”
Seonghwa follows your gaze. The couple seems to believe that the petals have to be caught at the same time.
“Now that is hard,” Seonghwa laughs.
“What’s hard?” Wooyoung asks, falling in step with you both.
“Do you think we all can catch petals at the same time?” Seonghwa wonders.
“You bet we can. Guys!” Wooyoung claps to get everyone’s attention and you groan, laughing to yourself. “We have a challenge.”
“What’s the prize?”
“Shut up and listen,” Wooyoung scolds Mingi and he leans against Yunho for comfort, laughing anyway. “We’re all going to try to catch petals at the same time.”
“Why would we do that…” Yeosang begins but when Wooyoung folds his arm, he retracts his question.
“Is this about the true love saying?” San wraps his arm around Yeosang and you all slow down to a halt. “I don’t really believe in that, but it’s romantic.”
“If the nine of us catch petals at the same time, that would make it more believable,” Yunho comments. “Because what are the chances?”
“It would be nothing short of a miracle,” Hongjoong sighs. “And it is also what gets us late on the first day of school.”
“Three attempts,” Wooyoung suggests and Jongho nods, being the first to accept the challenge.
You think it’s a bit foolish and you’ll definitely be late for school, but Wooyoung looks so happy to just finally have all of you together and his grin is unmatched. You get him. You’re feeling happy and content too. You meet eyes with all the boys, and it looks like they share the sentiments.
So you all turn away from each other, waiting for Wooyoung’s cue. All of you fix your eyes on that one petal that seems to be falling the right way, that seems to be calling to you. When Wooyoung shouts ‘now!’, you all jump and swing your hand in the air and clutch your fist before you turn back towards each other, light on your feet and almost reminiscent of butterflies in your movement.
It seems nothing short of magical when you all open your fists to find that everyone managed to catch a petal in the first attempt. All nine of you.
Some of you stand in disbelief while the rest absolutely lose their minds. You’re frozen in place, staring at the petal in your hand in awe. When you look up, you find all the boys clutching at their petals like it’s a token of luck. It might as well be.Or maybe, it’s a symbol of love, marking new beginnings.
i'm actually going to cry bc i deadass for once had my reblog comments all drafted and ready to post once this came up but i deleted it. i'm so sorry this reblog is not going to be anywhere near the same level of quality or length i'm actually about to go jump off a cliff SMH
okay well first of all i'm so proud of you for finishing this :')) both of us had joked that we should write drabbles and then here we are (me with a drabble, you not so much HAHAHA) but hey 15k i'm proud of you for trying
heh i love the little motif start with the spring and i trust this is going to go full circle
"However, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and you are not a great appreciator of beauty." MOOD ME
ofc woo is the assailant oh my god and oof You didn’t exactly leave your old school on a good note trust you to make all your mc's traumatised to some extent we can never just have good ol fluff huh
PLS not all eight boys in miss ji's class I REMEMBER THE JOKE I WROTE IN MY ORIGINAL NOTES miss ji? more like miss gg
it's so cute how similar bits and pieces are to whc i miss watching it so much juntae with his snack shuttling :')))
"Nabi cares for Seonghwa. Seonghwa does not care for Nabi." HAH YEAH SHE'S PMO
ooof yes i like that you've added the lil hints about the basketball in their little hideout
honestly mc's strong for holding off on the sweets for as long as she did i would've folded the moment i walked into the room also ngl i'd eat the sweets AND have a stalemate with them in the hideout just so i can spend my day skipping class with a bunch of hot guys RAWR
not woo CALLING THE GUARDS on mc and the guards being yunsan HAHAHA AND THEM BEING ALL yEssIR
heh nabi i ain't a pig i'm just FRIENDS WITH THE BOY AND HIS BOYS THAT YOU BE THIRSTIN OVER
omg jongho has a crURSHHHSHHH~~
awww ik the boys are deliberately ignoring her for the giggles to prove a point but DAMN can they make up already??
oh oh my heartue the scene where she hits the frame and it's a photo of all the boys squished together and beaming oh oh my heartue i'm crying they're so cute
HAH OFC THEY BET pls why do we both make it canon that the boys bet over anything and everything HAHA
ahh yes the good ol mc trauma lore
AWW PLS THE BOYS DRESSING UP NEATLY AND WELL-KEMPT AND STOPPPPPP WOO WITH THE FLOWERS AND THE OTHERS PITCHING IN FOR FRUITS PLSSSSSS
also super cute how they're all good at their own subjects and they help each other study :')) i miss my studying days so much
PFFTT THE BEER GLASS SCENE i love how when we were cooking this we both came up with the idea at the same time XD we literally have one braincell when it comes to writing
AHAHAHA NOT YUNA RUNNING TO BEAT JONGHO'S ASS AFTER HE HITS YOU oof but so worth it that yun is concerned and then hwa comes and wipes off your blood RAHHH
oooh yess this basketball scene is so much more fleshed out and the flow is heaps better well done babes hohoho HOKKAUURR HONGJOONG BLOW ME- MY FACE PAINT DRY
i miss this team sport atmosphere like it's just such a vibe and it really is such a hallmark high school moment :')) especially when they win and it's like you've conquered the entire world my shaylas
AHAHAHA not the seniors slowly taking over the hideout too aND THEN YALL PLAYING WITH MAKEUP TOGETHER how adorable now move over my turn with the boys
plsss the montage of interactions is so cute it's like the quick scenes with no dialogue just nostalgic soundtrack playing over them in kdramas
WOW OKAURR WE GETTING SOME KISSING ACTION GOING AWN OKAURRR
"Your laughter carries throughout the semester. Junior year comes to a beautiful conclusion and you part ways with the boys for the holidays." omg okay this might be my fave two sentences of the entire fic like there's just something so bittersweet and nostalgic and heartwarming about this particularly the 'beautiful conclusion' i'm so emo rn
omg your group of seniors YALL THE TOP DAWGS NOW but also it's just UGH so cute how you all went from a lil runty group of jnrs to still being together as snrs
HAHA the yungi appearance after you've all waited for 15 mins IS THAT TAKEN FROM WHC TOO WHEN THEY WAVE TO SIEUN AT THE SCHOOL ENTRANCE HAH
AHH AND YES WE HAVE THE SIMULTANEOUS RUNNING TO CATCH THE PETALS THE SLOWMO WHEN YOU ALL DO AND THEN CUT ROLL CREDITS THE END (also you missed a space between the full stop and your last sentence HAHAHAHA)
but awww please this was so so cute and lighthearted and i'm honestly still so upset i lost all of my initial reactions to your fic but :(( you did so well finishing this. also the moodboard is SO cute and it's just such good vibes overall <33 you should really attempt more drabbles and I'M TELLING YOU. YOU NEED TO ATTEMPT A 5-8K ONE NEXT.
"maybe a place where light and darkness meet, the choice between truth and lies is mine."
masterlist
ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au
chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of war/military, drugs, gangs and corruption, reader is anxious throughout most of the chapter, hongjoong redeems himself, san shoots his shot so that makes reader a serial kisser, and impending doom ig
chapter wc: 11.6k
chapter synopsis: after a last gathering in edenary where you meet a few key people of eden, you come back to sector 1 and have a meeting with the crescents. you and hongjoong make up and you finally learn about the nature of the crescents’ relationship from san. hongjoong delays the deal with madame tiffany but you still do not hear back from your sources in wonderland until the two parties officially sign the deal and it starts to feel like it’s too late to turn back.
prev chapter recap: the crescents meet up at the bar and share recent updates about assemblyman wi and how the anonymous funders have been identified save for one. yeosang reveals that the rv spies are protecting you from a threat which is not secretary park, and that has you rethinking everything from your past. your anxiety weighs on you and yunho attempts to comfort you. he hints about the nature of the crescents’ relationship. seonghwa and hongjoong finally let you in on the drug project for silver light and ask you to look into their possible partner for the deal, madame tiffany– a well-known tech company owner from wonderland. you finally step back into edenary after years and before the meeting with madame tiffany at a business gathering hosted by eden news owners, hongjoong gifts you a pearl necklace to match with your ring while asserting your role as his partner and his weapon. you meet secretary park and get a feeling that you’re being baited into making this new deal. You confront and warn him. the night ends in a conflict with hongjoong, though seonghwa is there to kiss away your tears.
There was something you wished you did not have in common with Hongjoong– the trait of stubbornness.
None of you was going to take the first step to acknowledge that perhaps, you both were at fault and the discussion that night in Edenary could have been handled in a better way without leaving things on a bitter note.
Hongjoong had managed to buy some time before Madame Tiffany would sign the deal, like you wanted. He invited her to Sector 1 and offered to show her around his business as a fellow tech-enthusiast. Still, things remained somewhat tense between the two of you. With Seonghwa’s presence as a buffer, it was somewhat bearable but it was getting harder to not address the elephant in the room when you were alone with him.
However, the two of you were also good at acting like everything was fine. No one would feel the tension surrounding the two of you unless they cared to take a closer look.
It was the third and the last day of your stay at Edenary, an unusually clear July afternoon at yet another business gathering hosted at the Ju Residence in the honour of Eden Newspaper’s 50th anniversary. It was an important event with a lot of politicians and business figures from all over Eden and the neighbouring countries attending so the three of you had planned to split and conquer.
You had prepared for this event in advance in a true Edenary citizen fashion. The previous day had no schedule so you decided to visit a few hotspots in Edenary. You offered Seonghwa to join but he already had another commitment with Hongjoong. Seonghwa requested Jaehyun and Ten to escort you– they were old employees and friends who could be trusted and as residents of Edenary, they were probably updated on where you should make your stops.
When you told Jaehyun and Ten that you would be making trips to the bars and clubs in Eden, they immediately knew what was up. Sporting little smirks and dressing their best, they joined you and you had to admit the three of you were quite a sight together– Hongjoong seemed to think so since he commented on your odd choice of outfit.
The odd thing being the burgundy colour of your lace blouse paired with cream slacks. Your feet were clad in heels and you were wearing your pearls, adding a sunhat and shades to the look. That was definitely something new for Hongjoong who had only seen you in formal office attire– or in the dress that he bought for you. He half wished he could ditch his appointment to observe you from the sidelines– he was quite curious about how you would look as an Edenary citizen.
He didn’t have to wait long to see that. Just like yesterday, you blended in seamlessly with the crowd today. You were wearing a mulberry coloured sheath dress, switching the pearls with silver accessories to match the bracelet that Hongjoong had given you. You weren’t oblivious of the way his eyes stuck to the cuff around your wrist when you sat next to him in the car. When you reached the venue and split up, he kept an eye on you while you got acquainted with the crowd. You seemed to be getting along just fine so he relaxed and let you handle it, deciding to trust in you just a bit more.
You would later reveal that this was what you had practised for– in the bars and clubs where information was sold over drinks, you got updates on the latest gossip of Edenary. It was the oldest trick in the book, yet it always worked. All you had to do was look good and provide something worthy in exchange, and you had a lot to share– just nothing about the Crescents but about General Wi and Secretary Park. Harmless little rumours.
You knew not to believe anything that came out of drunken mouths but from your experience, most of the time they were right. The other times, half-right.
That was how you made a mental list of a few people that you had to get acquainted with at this party. Most of them were business owners but there were quite a lot of politicians and people that had connections in the underworld. You had a short chat with Lee Sunmi, the heiress to Maddox and Co. – the jewellery brand that was Eden’s staple. She recognised the silver bracelet on your wrist and told you how Hongjoong had spent a lot of time choosing and designing the bracelet.
“Hold up,” you interrupted. “You’re telling me he designed it?”
“We take custom orders, and our customers sometimes suggest designs and we try our best to incorporate it into ours and deliver what they desire,” Sunmi smiled. “And Kim Hongjoong is quite a thoughtful man. He has always been creative.”
It looked like Hongjoong and Sunmi were on friendly terms– they probably had to be, considering the amount of purchases he had been making recently. You almost wished you had worn the pearl necklace too so you could hear the story behind it, but for now…
This was enough.
A few moments later, you went to hang out in a corner with a drink, clouded by the contents of your conversation with Sunmi while you watched the guests and made note of who was interacting with whom. You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to find a man who was about Hongjoong’s height. He looked familiar for some reason.
“I see you’ve got eyes on Assemblyman Kim Jooheon,” the man said, pointing at the politician with his gaze.
“I see that you do too,” you replied, making space for him in the corner. You could see almost everyone from here since it was an elevated platform but hardly anyone looked back towards you.
“Drink?” You offered and when he nodded, you grabbed a glass from your right where the table was.
“You look familiar,” he commented. “Where are you from?”
“Sector 1,” you told him. “Are you from there too?”
“Yeah,” he put his hands in the pocket of his plain black suit, habitually sniffing. “I saw you talking to Park Seonghwa. Are you… acquainted with him?”
You narrowed your eyes just a fraction. “Can I have your name, please?”
He smiled in defeat. “Bang Chan.”
You almost dropped the drink in your hand, resorting to a gulp. This was the man who had unintentionally triggered the wheels into motion that led you to where you were today– Chan, the leader of Wolfgang. Had he not ordered his men to raid the Crescent Bar, you wouldn’t have signed the deal with Seonghwa and become a Crescent.
You wanted to thank him for a multitude of reasons, and the small part of you that still yearned for the normalcy you had before getting swept up in all these politics wanted to kill him for ruining your peace.
“Mr. Bang,” you nodded, extending your hand. “I’m Luna.”
“Is there more to it?” He shook your hand, his eyes filled with curiosity.
“Perhaps,” you replied nonchalantly. “What do you know about Assemblyman Kim?”
“Well, if you’re looking to make connections with him, he might consider if you’re influential around Sector 1, though I must say I haven’t really heard of you…”
“You will, soon,” you promised and he shook his head in amusement. “Do you think he would associate with… people who have influence in the underworld?”
Chan raised a brow. “You must recognise me, huh?”
“Yeah, but that might not be the reason I’m asking that question,” you said, taking a gulp. You smirked. “I must say I didn’t expect the leader of Wolfgang here.”
“Well, you know what they say about us mafiosi,” he smirked back, swirling the drink in his glass. “Refined gentlemen during the day, gangsters at night.”
Just like the Crescents. You had heard about the history of their gang once from Wendy– the members of Wolfgang had been among the first to get forcefully drafted in the military during war. President Son could not prevent the military takeover during the war and that was the reason that the people around your age, like the Crescents and the Wolfgang, had all been enlisted. What made Wolfgang unique was that they were already becoming an established gang before the war and after the war ended, they only grew stronger.
Chan quirked his brows. “Will you answer my question now?”
“Well… you could say we’re acquaintances, yes, Seonghwa and I,” you said and he raised a brow at the way you so casually addressed him. “Will you answer my question now?”
Chan laughed deeply, knowing you wouldn’t be giving him anything else about your connection with Seonghwa.
“Assemblyman Kim is a presidential candidate for the next elections, though his ratings aren’t very high,” he sighed. “But you already know that. What you should know is that he’s a smart man- smarter than people give him credit for. His moral compass is very clear and he values justice above everything else.”
“And that would be why he has such low ratings, because who cares about justice in this era?” You huffed. “Thank you for the tip, Mr. Bang. I must shoot my shot now– I hope we can cross paths on good terms in the future.”
“Likewise… Luna,” he bowed jokingly and you shot a grin in his direction before walking towards the assemblyman, his secretaries by his side busy speaking with other people who wanted to hold a conversation with the presidential candidate. You slid in front of him smoothly as soon as he shook hands with a person to bid them farewell.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Kim,” you extended your hand and he scanned your figure, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I’m Luna of the Crescent Company. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir.”
You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was trying to pinpoint where exactly he had seen you– certainly not in Sector 1 or anywhere near the Crescents. You only smiled knowingly.
“Haven’t we met?” He couldn’t resist asking. “In Edenary, a few years ago?”
Oh, Chan was right– he really was smart. He had, in fact, met you very briefly once. You hadn’t exchanged any meaningful words other than a light shriek from you when he suddenly appeared in your way, and a question from him to ask if you were okay, or if you needed help, because you looked so out of place in your own home.
That had been the last party that you attended in Edenary which was hosted in your father’s own mansion before you had to leave. You had been strictly instructed to stay in your own room but obedience had never been your strongest forte especially when forced.
And that might be why things turned out like they did.
“You have… exceptional memory, Assemblyman Kim,” you breathed, truly impressed.
He seemed to be still in thought, trying to pinpoint where he had seen you. You decided to make things easier for him– perhaps this could be an opportunity.
“At Secretary Park’s residence– the party was hosted to celebrate President Lee’s official debut in the political world.”
“Ah… that is a memorable night,” he nodded slowly, recalling the events of that night. You remembered that night as well as if it was yesterday– it had been truly electric to see so many powerful and influential people in one place and in your residence of all the locations. The mansion had been heavily guarded and only a few people were invited. Lee Jinwook and his wife Han Hyojoo had both been present. President Son’s term was about to conclude and he made a short appearance for the sake of his old friend, Han Hyojoo.
Your father would have sent you somewhere for the duration of that party but he locked you and Sunghoon both in a room– you because he couldn’t have anyone know that you were related to him, and Sunghoon because he was too rebellious at that time.
However, Sunghoon had always been one step ahead of his father as long as it concerned sneaking past him. When he waved the key in front of you, you almost smiled. And he let you out that night simply out of spite for his father, though you knew better than to stray too far.
And Assemblyman Kim hadn’t been the only person you had a memorable encounter with. Han Hyojoo, who would later become the President of Eden, was one of them too. A memory you would never forget.
“Sometimes when I recall that night,” Assemblyman Kim began, “I remember how frightened you looked to see me and then I start wondering what I had done to scare a child.”
“It wasn’t you,” you suppressed a chuckle. “I just… wasn’t supposed to be roaming around and then you caught me sneaking outside.”
Mr. Kim laughed heartily. “I’m relieved to hear that. So you’re a Crescent, huh?”
“It’s a recent happening,” you confirmed. “I hope you’ve been doing well, Sir. If you ever need a helping hand or a… tip, you can look for the sneaky child that gets scared easily. You’ll find her in Sector 1.”
Assemblyman Kim considered that offer. “Noted. Although if you’ve done your research, you would know that I don’t associate with… underworld organisations.”
“Perhaps, your information is outdated– or rather, one-sided,” you commented, noticing how his secretaries were listening in to your conversation now. “But tell you what, Assemblyman Kim… you don’t need to step in the underworld to rule the world, you know what I mean?”
He poked his tongue inside his cheek, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind, Miss.”
“That’s a positive sign, right?” You look towards his female secretary, Secretary Shin, whose lips curled in an assuring smile. You parted with them, deciding to take a break before resuming your scavenging.
You ascended up the stairs of the Ju Residence, your hand sliding up the marble railing with ease. There were people everywhere, drinks or tarts in their hands as they chattered endlessly. Craving some peace, you found the balcony empty and went to stand in the corner, hopefully out of sight of the people inside. You ran your gaze across the expanse of the residence– the garden that surrounded the mansion was also full of guests lounging near the buffet table. You recognised a few of them and spotted Hongjoong conversing with a group of older men.
You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, a dull throbbing in your head preventing you from organising your thoughts any further. You almost didn’t feel the presence of Seonghwa until he was beside you, his hand sliding over yours and you would have been startled if it weren’t for his very familiar sigh sounding in the air.
“Tired?” He asked and you opened your eyes to look at the underboss. He was dressed to perfection in a black suit with a red sash emerging from under the left lapel that attached to his right shoulder and fell back in a flowy manner– true to Edenary fashion. His hair was getting longer, which meant that it was getting harder for you to resist stealing glances at him.
“A bit, yeah,” you shrugged. “No matter how much I get used to this… environment, it will always feel a bit suffocating to be here.”
“I can understand why,” he agreed. “Parties used to be somewhere that you could let loose. Now you have to be cautious of every move you make, every word you say.”
“You’re a natural at this, though,” you teased. “You grab everyone’s attention when you’re in the room.”
“Everyone but yours, it seems,” he retorted. “I was watching you talk to Assemblyman Kim. You didn’t even notice me when you were done. Tsk tsk,” he shook his head and you curled your lips downwards, making him grin.
“I’ll tell you all about the meeting with him when we get home– but first, I did not know Kim Hongjoong was a romantic,” you whispered dramatically and he raised a brow in question. “I met Lee Sunmi and she had something interesting to say about this piece. He designed this himself.”
You waved the bracelet in front of him and he chuckled, showing off his ring. “Did you not notice all of us wearing the same ring, sweetheart?”
“Oh?” You held his hand to inspect the ring- it was shaped like your bracelet with infinity symbol design carved all around. “All of you?”
“All eight of us, yeah. Also designed by the one and only Hongjoong,” he smiled proudly. “And you match.”
You pursed your lips, taking a closer look at your bracelet– it really was a matching set. “A part of the Crescents, huh?”
Seonghwa nodded, his eyes darting towards the window. “Mr. Ju is here. I’ve got to greet him.”
“Alright, I’ll go get something to eat before I resume this serious business,” you mocked and he snickered before the two of you parted ways.
You didn’t get a chance to brief the boys until you were back to Sector 1 and you figured that it was for the better since it saved you all the repetition. The rest of the Crescents came to town to hear about your visit to Edenary but this time, you were all cramped inside Hongjoong’s office. Or maybe it felt cramped due to the lack of drinks and the subtle tension in the air.
You took yet another deep breath as you heard Seonghwa’s side of the story, your eyes darting among the boys. Now that Seonghwa had hinted that they were all a single unit and might be closer than you thought, you couldn’t help but read too much into the otherwise casual actions– Mingi holding Yunho’s hand and Yunho absently caressing it while he watched Yeosang with a unique fondness, Wooyoung trying his utmost best to land a kiss anywhere on Yeosang who was strongly resisting with a subtle smile on his face that indicated that he didn’t dislike his attempts, and San massaging Jongho’s shoulders while he listened intently to what Seonghwa was saying.
Hongjoong watched all of them with almost parental affection, sending warning glares to anyone who dared interrupt the underboss and sharing smiles with anyone who looked his way.
So the question remained, looming over you until the weight of it felt almost tangible–
Who was with who, and just how many of them wanted you to be a part of whatever relationship they had?
“You alright?” Mingi asked. Having sat next to you, he noticed how you had stopped listening a while ago.
You nodded, smiling briefly in assurance before focusing your attention on Seonghwa who was now finishing up. Hongjoong filled in the parts that Seonghwa had not covered, especially about the previous day at the party at Ju Residence.
“I think the only memorable part of my night was finding President Son’s wife at the event,” he said and a chorus of appreciation sounded across the room. You looked at Hongjoong who was smiling knowingly at you– he had withheld this information for this dramatic reveal.
“Kim Jiwon,” he continued. “I think she attended knowing President Lee wouldn’t make it. You don’t often see ex-President Son’s family and anyone connected to President Lee in the same room.”
“Secretary Park was there, though,” you recalled. You purposely ignored and avoided him that day. “But I don’t think they crossed paths.”
“They probably didn’t. She was there for a very short time,” he agreed. “Anyways, she asked how business was. I told her that it was fine, and then she asked how business was.”
“Hold up–” you straightened. “You’re acquainted with President Son?”
Hongjoong crossed his legs, smirking. “The war may have ruined us all but me, personally? I made a lot of connections.”
You whistled, impressed and Wooyoung, who was sitting not far from you, waved his hand in dismissal. “He knows everyone, Luna. Get used to it.”
“Noted,” you sagged back into the couch but kept your eyes trained on Hongjoong. “How do you know him?”
“That’s a story I’ll tell you some other time,” he promised. “But anyways, my point is that this is the first time President Son has hinted that he knows something. I thought it might be a slip of tongue from his wife but then I remembered that they’re the kind of people who make mistakes on purpose.”
“She could be referring to the illegal trade, the weapons, or… anything, at this point,” Yeosang thought. “But the fact that they’re aware and have not done anything must mean that they don’t entirely disapprove, right? President Son still has enough influence to make our establishment collapse if he wants to.”
“Right, which is why I’m thinking that I really need to look into what he has been up to recently,” Hongjoong concluded. “Luna.”
“Yeah, so,” you began, inhaling deeply. “I think the two of you covered most of it. I had a not-so-cool meeting with Secretary Park,” you said, your eyes darting towards Seonghwa who had a subtle smile on his face. “He’s an arse, as usual.”
“Louder!” Wooyoung clapped in appreciation, eyes full of pride which prompted a laugh from you, making you feel instantly lighter.
“He thinks we should sign the deal with Madame Tiffany, which translates to ‘it will ruin us’, but maybe that’s just me,” you looked pointedly at Hongjoong who was suddenly too busy admiring his nails. “And then yesterday, I met Lee Sunmi of Maddox Jewellers and she had some interesting things to say about our boss, but that’s a story for later.”
That finally made Hongjoong look at you and you were surprised to see the glimpse of a cautious hope in his eyes. You continued. “I also had an interesting conversation with Assemblyman Kim. He remembers seeing me in Secretary Park’s mansion in 1963.”
“That’s seven years ago,” Jongho looked surprised. “How does he remember?”
“Well, your boss recalled seeing me from way before,” you pointed out and Hongjoong huffed.
“Seeing a young girl in Secretary Park’s mansion. Didn’t realise it was you,” he corrected.
“And Assemblyman Kim remembered me because, well, I gave him quite the reaction when I saw him last time,” you told the boys about your first meeting with him. “I made sure he knew that the Crescents are one call away if he ever needs help.”
“But he doesn’t associate with ‘gangs’,” Jongho pointed out.
“I told him he doesn’t need to ‘associate’ with us in order to gain something from us. And let’s admit it– my addition to the Crescents makes your business image far cleaner than it actually is.”
Laughter filled the room as the boys clapped in acknowledgement, making you sit just a little taller, your heart feeling full with something like pride.
“Anyways, I’ve heard more rumours about the recent happenings in Eden which may or may not be true,” you continued. “But the most interesting one has to be about how the Sirens Rebel Party is planning some unusual way of protesting when the campaigns start– and this time, their target is not only General Wi but also… President Lee.”
“President Lee?” Yunho frowned. “When he’s been pretty much unproblematic this whole time? I don’t think he’s being controlled by the army like the Sirens fear. If he was, the first step he would have taken is to send the Strictland immigrants in Eden back to their homeland.”
“That’s what you think,” Wooyoung scoffed. “I’ve been saying it this whole time– he’s far too clean to be unproblematic. Besides, he wouldn’t make a move like this and oust himself.”
“This means it’s time we do a little digging, no?” You looked at Hongjoong who was nodding in thought. “We should look into why the Sirens suddenly think President Lee has joined hands with the army. The Sirens are mostly Strictland immigrants– they must be anxious about something… And who would know President Lee better than President Son? Isn’t it so odd that he refuses to acknowledge him when he was so close to President Lee’s wife?”
“I just thought it might be a personal issue. There were always rumours about how President Han and President Son may have been a thing at some point in their lives,” Hongjoong said and you were about to protest when he spoke your mind. “I think that’s rubbish and it’s probably another deep-rooted grudge– President Son has never been a fan of President Lee.”
“Well, I hope there’s some way to find more about the reason their relationship is so strained,” you said, taking a deep breath before saying, “and that’s about it, yeah. Trip to Edenary concluded.”
A chorus of hums sounded across the room and someone shuffled to get the drink from Hongjoong’s table that they wanted to open for a successful trip. You, however, caught Yunho’s gaze.
“You did great,” he leaned forward to say with a warm smile, Mingi pressing himself back on the couch so you two could talk. “Assemblyman Kim is actually not a bad idea at all. We might need him if President Lee really is guilty of something big.”
“Right?” You exhaled in relief. “You can never have too many allies.”
San interrupted the moment with a tap to your shoulder, sliding in the empty space next to you and handing you a glass, congratulating you on making your first trip to Edenary as a Crescent a success– he had heard about your worries and anxiety about the trip over one of your usual late night drink sessions before you left.
“Any moments worthy of another late night drink session?” He asked in a low voice, winking subtly and you stifled a smile.
“There’s actually a lot, but if you can’t tell, me and Hongjoong are a little tense. We had a little argument,” you told him and he went ahead to glare at his boss unfiltered, which made you grab him by the chin so he would face you.
“Choi San!” You scolded in a harsh whisper. “You can’t do that!”
The action did not go unnoticed by the few who were watching you, but you were far too focused on the way San’s gaze softened as he looked at you. You dropped your hand, taking a big gulp of the drink as you attempted to appear normal and unaffected by the fluttering of your heart. You looked back at him and the two of you burst into giggles.
“You want me dead and gone, don’t you?” You poked his thigh.
“How dare Hongjoong have an argument with my darling sweetheart!” He continued with his charade, fully pouting as he clutched your head to bring you into a mock of an embrace. You struggled to free yourself and the boys laughed in confusion. Once you managed to wring away from San, you fixed your hair before smacking his arm.
All the while Hongjoong watched you challengingly.
You stared right back, eyes determined. And when a little smirk appeared on his lips, you finally found yourself relaxing while also realising with a sinking heart that Hongjoong already had quite the hold on you.
Now that you had wrapped up the hard part about the business with the conclusion of the Edenary trip, things were settling back into the old, quiet routine. You were only waiting for Madame Tiffany’s arrival to Sector 1 and, if lucky, a tip from Madame Cha in Wonderland to arrive preferably before the deal happens.
You had to admit that it was making you a little restless to not hear back from Madame Cha, and it had you wondering if she was purposely withholding information. Was she in cahoots with Madame Tiffany or worse, Secretary Park? The unease that you might have been betrayed by the one person you trusted prevented you from focusing completely on work and you often found yourself distracted and zoning out.
Anyone could tell that you were a bit jumpy these days. It was not because of your shift in relationship with both Yunho and Seonghwa. Things with Seonghwa were surprisingly normal and comfortable even after the romantic moment in Edenary, even after the confessions. He was still the same old underboss who gave you orders and a pat on your shoulders for doing a good job. He would make sure you were taking your meals on time, as did your colleagues Eunha and Jihoon.
It was mostly the lack of response from Madame Cha that was eating you up, and… Hongjoong.
Hongjoong was pretending to be normal– pretending, you were sure, because you were no stranger to the slight edge in his voice when he talked to you. It reminded you of the time when he had ‘respectfully’ asked you to stick to being a bookkeeper instead of meddling with their business and it made you reconsider if becoming a Crescent was a smart decision at all. You could have simply given away every information you possessed in exchange for your life, or used Kihyun as a shield. You could have resigned and gone to work at MX Pharmaceuticals– that way, you wouldn’t have had to interact with the Crescents very much.
But then… you would think about the boys. You would think about the recent development in the business and your relationship with the boys, ruminate about the good moments that you shared with them. The bond that you had created with them definitely outweighed anything else by a considerable margin.
You were waiting for Hongjoong in his office while you finished up the daily report for him. You couldn’t help but get distracted by the bracelet on your wrist. Perhaps, you should not have worn it today.
However, Hongjoong seemed to think differently. When he came to the office and seated himself across you, his gaze stuck on your wrist as you passed him the report. You hid your hands under the desk on purpose while you reviewed the reports as he went through them. It was all very smooth and casual, just like before, until–
“When are you going to share what Sunmi had to say about me?”
You couldn’t help the smirk this time. “When were you going to tell me that you’re not just the boss of a criminal organisation but a part-time designer as well?”
Hongjoong let out a wicked laugh. “Boss of a criminal organisation, okay, but a part-time designer? That’s something I’ve never heard about myself.”
“Well?” You waved your wrist in the air. “I’m hearing you designed this yourself, Captain.”
“Yeah, I did,” he leaned forward challengingly. “What about it?”
“Is this your trademark design,” you asked, letting your fingers brush the ring he wore on his right hand, “or… did you design it to match with your rings?”
Hongjoong only smiled in answer, letting you caress his hand for just a moment before he grabbed yours and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and sending butterflies in your stomach.
“I need answers, Hongjoong,” you almost whispered. “Not distractions.”
“I designed it to match,” he admitted, clasping both of his hands around yours. “And since we’re both feeling a little chummy right now, I will admit that I said things that I should not have said.”
He cautiously looked into your eyes before he continued. “Your opinions were never imposing. You are my– our partner now, and you are allowed to voice your opinions even if they are imposing. Yes, I’m the boss and I make the final decision but that does not mean that I do not make sure that all my partners are satisfied with the decision I will make.”
“I know,” you said softly, surprised at the hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
“I’m just eager to make this deal,” he sighed. “This drug project has been in the works for far too long now, and I know I should be cautious, but it’s a golden opportunity, isn’t it?”
You nodded. “I might have been overthinking because it’s my father who encouraged us to proceed with the deal. I haven’t heard back from Madame Cha yet.”
“And that is why I delayed the meeting,” he reminded you. “But you must understand that I cannot delay it any further, right?”
You nodded, pursing your lips. There was still an unsettling feeling in your heart and now you were starting to understand the gravity and the seriousness of this drug project. It could improve the healthcare system of Eden and it could shake Eden as it exposes the people who tried to keep silver light all to themselves. Perhaps, you were just anxious because of those reasons.
“I understand, and I will cooperate,” you said and he shook his head at your choice of words. You let out a nervous laugh, the tension releasing from your body. “I mean, I accept your apology and I will work with you when we shake hands with Madame Tiffany. She’s probably a good choice– the best option we have for now.”
“The best option we’ve ever had,” Hongjoong said. “And I’m wary of her too. My network is meticulous and so far, she’s mostly clean. Only misfortune can ruin us now.”
“Let’s hope not,” you squeezed his hands in assurance before drawing them away. “Also, is there any way for you to contact President Son?”
“What for?”
“I was just wondering if he would like to share what he has on President Lee.”
“If it was that easy, I would have asked him ages ago,” Hongjoong chuckled.
“I know!” Your shoulders sagged. “Still…”
“He’s not the type of man to share information just like that, and I don’t even want to try,” Hongjoong raised his hands in surrender. “He’s scary.”
“So you are scared of someone, huh? You’re just human, after all,” you folded your arms, laughing mockingly.
“One wrong move and he will end my whole career,” Hongjoong reminded you and you bit on your lower lip in thought.
“What if we have something to trade? Information, an opportunity, something like that?”
“He is the kind of person who knows everything that happens– in Eden and in the underworld of this continent. It’s no wonder that he exercised presidency in Eden for two whole terms. A solid ten years of experience in that position, given his background is something to fear.”
“So we need him, but he does not need us,” you sighed in resignation when Hongjoong nodded. “Alright. I’ll see if there’s some other way to find information about President Lee. I really don’t think he’s unaware of this Strictland business. There is no way Secretary Park is making all these visits to Halaland personally under his nose.”
“Jongho is working on that,” he assured you. “He has a few connections in Halaland but they’re waiting for Secretary Park’s next visit to their country before they tail him.”
“Good idea. Have we still not found any clues about the anonymous source?”
“No, but I have a feeling it’s gonna be something big,” Hongjoong rubbed his face, tired. “We will also have to wait for the end of this month but I can’t promise any results. The anonymous sources usually hire someone from delivery services who have no connection to both parties. We correlate the timing through them– we hide our identity too. It’s going to be hard.”
You sat in silence, sorting your thoughts out and then agreeing that it was best to wait and see. Hongjoong reminded you that Madame Tiffany was arriving in three days’ time and that he and Seonghwa were going to show her around, but they would appreciate your presence when the actual meeting happens.
And it was the pressure of your new role that made you search for the comfort of your old job– where a part of you would always be, you mused. The Crescent Bar was almost like a home to you now, and tonight you were looking for Yeosang so you could tell him the events of Edenary in detail and talk about the things that you had been avoiding for a while now before it gets too complicated.
You had just wrapped up things with Yunho in the office before coming here and you might have talked to him instead, but it was getting harder to look at him and not have your heart melt a little. You were afraid that you were going to make a mistake– or simply, not think rationally in his presence. That is why your heart reached for Yeosang. You had known him the longest time and it was always comfortable with him, even after the subtle shift in your relationship.
However, when you sneaked in through the back door, wanting to avoid the rest of your friends who worked at the front, you found the door to his office locked. You stood there with your hand on the knob, your shoulders tensing up with each passing minute as you wondered where he was–
“Luna?”
You turned to find San who was shrugging on his usual leather jacket over a black tank top. It looked like he was getting ready to go home.
“Oh, hi,” you awkwardly waved. “Done for the night?”
“Yeah, what’s up? Are you looking for Yeosang?”
“Yes, but it looks like he’s not here,” you pursed your lips. “So I’ll be going back home.”
He studied you for a moment before shaking his head. “You need a drink?”
“Not here, I sneaked in from the back door,” you told him and he smiled in understanding. “Just wanted to talk to him about… stuff.”
“Well,” San stepped closer. “You can talk to me, if you’d like? No pressure– we could go somewhere else. I was going to go home anyway, and I’ll be alone tonight. No engagements.”
You contemplated for a moment. San was definitely easy to talk to and you both were very comfortable ranting to each other about what was going on in your lives. While he wasn’t as good as Yeosang at helping you navigate through what you were thinking… he was comforting in a different way. Like a friend, your equal.
“I guess we could walk around for now, yeah?”
“I’ve got drinks at my place if you’d like to drown your sorrows away,” he laughed and you clapped in acknowledgement, asking him to lead the way– you would definitely need a few drinks to talk about tonight’s subject matter.
The matter being what the eight of them really wanted from you.
~
“Look,” you took a deep breath, glad your mind was not cloudy from all the drinking you had been doing. San wasn’t drinking very much, opting to hear you out instead and promising to stop you if he thought was necessary. “I get it. You guys are close, in more ways than you let on–”
“It’s really not that complicated–” he began but you shot him a warning glare and he pretended to zip his mouth.
“To you, it may not be. You guys have been together for a long time, San,” you reminded him, shifting so you were sitting cross-legged on the floor now, resting your elbows on the table. You moved the bottles in front of you, arranging them into triangles while you talked. “Your relationship developed naturally. Right?”
“You’ve been with us for a long time too, now,” San countered. “At least with me and Yeosang.”
“That’s why I’m in your apartment right now. If it was someone else, I wouldn’t have intruded,” you winked at him and he laughed. “But my point is… how would it change us? What would it mean for me?”
“I think you need to answer a few questions first,” San shrugged. “If you’re comfortable with at least a few of us. If you see us in that light– if you want to be with some of us romantically.”
When San brought you to his apartment, he showed you around like a gentleman. He lived with Mingi and Seonghwa but Mingi usually stayed in the warehouse, opting to come back during the weekends. Seonghwa was visiting some family so he wouldn’t be home tonight either.
Then you told San about the details of your time in Edenary– specifically your argument with Hongjoong and how it got resolved now. He didn’t comment much, only smiled knowingly and agreed that Hongjoong could be a bit temperamental at times but that was probably stress.
And when you told him about your kiss with Seonghwa and your undeniable feelings for Yunho and Yeosang, he couldn’t help but make a few teasing remarks which finally made you get a good amount of wine in your system. You asked him to simply answer all your questions without ambiguity. You couldn’t simply sit around anymore and keep getting distracted over what was and what could be.
“Maybe I do,” you answered, your mouth suddenly feeling dry and you were glad you had some drinks in your system because you couldn’t have admitted it with this confidence otherwise. “Maybe I like you too.”
San smirked. “I’ll hear that when you’re sober, thank you very much.”
“I am sober. Just a little bit tipsy,” you straightened. “Come on, San. Don’t push me back now.”
“I’m not,” he gently said, scooting closer. “You wanna cuddle?”
“Cuddle?” You gaped at him– the mafia capo wanted to cuddle. With you.
“How long has it been since you’ve sat in someone’s arms, dear? Even platonically?”
There was a certain sadness in his voice that you couldn’t pinpoint. It made your heart sink, and you wondered if he had looked through your heart and found how lonely you were.
Cautiously, you scooted closer where he sat on the floor with his back resting on the couch, his legs spread to accommodate you. You sat in front of him, unsure of how he wanted you to sit.
“This is weird,” you told him and he shook his head, grabbing your wrists and turning you around so you were now tucked in his embrace, and with his bare, strong arms wrapped around you, you had to admit–
This was nice- no, this was lovely.
“Relax,” he said in a low voice, adjusting your bodies so you both sat a bit more comfortably. “You okay?”
“Yep,” you assured him, slowly letting the tension release from your body. “You’re right, I’ve almost never done this.”
“You don’t need to be partners to do this,” he told you, caressing your hair. “I think every human needs or craves a little skinship. I, for one, can’t sleep without holding something.”
“Oh,” you giggled at his admission and he chuckled. “So you cuddle just about anyone?”
“Anyone or anything,” he grinned. “Isn’t it nice?”
“Yeah, you’re like a cushion. A hard one– what’s all that muscle for?” You poked his biceps and he laughed loudly, poking your stomach and making you squirm in his grasp.
“We used to sit like this– the boys,” San said after a moment, voice deep with the memories of that time. “Usually it was Mingi and I after a tough night during the war. Jongho doesn’t really like cuddling but sometimes, he needed that too. We were all soldiers in the same platoon.”
“Did you know each other from before the war?” You asked, tracing patterns into his arms while you rested your head against his chest.
“Mingi and Yunho did. Yeosang and Wooyoung were old friends too, and they were stationed in the same area so they often met up. And then Yunho and Hongjoong became friends during the war, and after the treaty happened, we just… found each other again. We have never separated since.”
“You’re each other’s home now,” you smiled. “It must be nice to have each other.”
“It is,” he said. “We can always rely on each other. And our relationship… it’s different. Sometimes, we comfort each other, but there are no boundaries. Some of us have had girlfriends before, sometimes two of us with one person, but we never really met someone who could fit in with us and be a part of all of us, until… you.”
“And how did you know I would fit right in? Especially with the romantic aspects of your relationship?”
“We didn’t, we just liked when you talked back to Seonghwa,” San said and you laughed, drawing back in his embrace so you could face him. “Yeosang liked you from the beginning, but he’s probably the most cautious one out of all of us when it comes to relationships. And you always kept a distance until you became a Crescent.”
“Kept a distance for obvious reasons– I had so much to hide,” you sighed. “I can finally be myself since all my secrets are out.”
“Yeah,” San tucked your hair back lovingly. “It wasn’t until you started showing interest in Yunho that we thought that you might be the one for us. Seonghwa, at least, thought so. He had to convince Hongjoong.”
“But how does it work?” You asked. “Do you all… actually like me?”
“Obviously, not all of us yet and not in the same way,” he said and you figured that was true. “You know your relationship is different with all of us. You haven’t really interacted much with the warehouse boys, but with those you have… what do you think? Do you see yourself with us?”
“Does being one of you mean… that I’m with all of you?”
“Not necessarily, no,” San explained. “You can be with a few of us if that is what you would prefer. You can take your time navigating your feelings. You can be with one of us– but we… we’re willing to be with you if you are.”
“It’s… a lot,” you laughed, heart feeling full at the thought though there was an anxious strain in your chest that accompanied the feeling.
“Your own pace, darling,” San kissed your temple. “Whatever you say, whoever you want, whenever you want.”
“Wow,” you breathed. “So you will all be my boys then?”
San couldn’t help but gleam at the sound of that.
“It’s been the eight of us for a long time now,” San admitted. “And if you accept us, it will be the nine of us, and nobody else.”
“Well…” you scanned his face, finding his eyes full of hope with a hint of caution. You wished to erase that emotion from his eyes, now that you had your answer. “I actually quite like the sound of it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” you folded your arms. “If I get tired with one of you, there’s always another. And another. And another–”
San groaned loudly, moving to tickle you again but when you tried squirming out of his grasp, the two of you somehow wrestled yourselves into a position so your bodies were flush against each other, with you lodged in his lap so you were at eye-level. San’s gaze darkened for just a moment and he removed his hands from around your body to make sure you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
But then you moved to cup his face, entranced by the way his eyes watched you and his plump lips parted for air. You traced the sharp curves and edges of his face, running your thumb over his lower lip.
“San… does it make me selfish if I really want to be a part of you guys? If I want all of you, in some way or another?”
“Not at all,” he whispered.
“Does it make me greedy to crave love?” You tilted your head, inspecting the moles and freckles that littered his neck. “To crave you?”
“No,” he rested his hands on the dip of your waist. “We all crave love. It’s natural.”
“You won’t break my heart, right?” You asked, locking eyes with him, unable to keep the assertiveness out of your voice even though it threatened to betray you. “None of you. I don’t think I have more capacity in me to grieve if I lose someone again, San. I’ve already lost everything once and it took me a lot of time to recover.”
“We will never do that to you,” he squeezed your waist in assurance, the promise in his eyes strong. “We protect each other. We don’t betray each other. We’re one.”
You nodded, leaning forward just a fraction, unable to deny the magnetic pull and he held his breath in anticipation. “Do you mind if I…”
“Are you sure?” San asked. “I don’t want you to wake up in the morning and regret coming here tonight, Luna. Bringing you here wasn’t– this wasn’t my intention–”
You reckoned that the only way to shut him up now was to capture his lips in a kiss. He froze for a moment before melting under your touch and reciprocating the kiss. His hands lowered to your hips, wrapping around your back as he brought your bodies closer and you kissed his lower lip sweetly before drawing back for breath.
For a few moments, you assessed each other. San studied the vulnerability in your eyes, watched how your eyes ran along the expanse of his upper body, your hands following the path as they traced down his shoulders and then came back to smoothen the fabric of his tank top.
“You’re… hot, Choi San,” you breathed out the confession and he laughed, eyes laden with adoration as he watched you.
“You sound drunk, Luna,” he said. “And I don’t want you to make a drunken mistake tonight.”
“I’m not drunk,” you steeled your gaze. “But okay, I get it. You’re a gentleman to the bone.”
“That I am,” San picked you up effortlessly as he got up and you almost squealed, wrapping yourself around him instinctively. San’s body shook as he laughed and he waited until your fear settled and you drew away to look at him.
“Would you like to stay over?” He asked.
“Sure,” you nodded, frowning in anticipation.
“Then let’s go wash up and cuddle until we sleep. Don’t let your drunken thoughts keep you up at night, darling.”
You pouted but you were aware that you would be thanking him the next morning. The two of you went to separate bathrooms to wash up and he lent you one of his shirts and a trouser for the night. You took your time in the shower, letting the water wake you up and take the cloudiness in your mind with it.
Once done, you walked to his room and stood in shock at the absurd amount of pillows on his bed– every shape, every size. San simply watched you from his bed, amused.
“That one looks like it’s begging for death,” you pointed at a worn out pillow in the middle of the bed.
“That’s my favourite pillow to cuddle,” San chuckled, patting the space next to him.
“I’ll dethrone it– I’ll be your new favourite cuddle pillow,” you promised, getting inside the covers and tackling him in a hug which made him laugh in surprise, his arm going around your back to hold you close.
“Didn’t expect you to be the shy type, Luna,” he said sarcastically.
“Didn’t expect you to be such a gentleman, but here we are,” you pecked his lips, gauging his reaction before sharing another sweet kiss.
“It’s really good to be here tonight. Thank you, San.”
“It’s nothing,” he caressed your head. “I didn’t expect this turn of events, but I hope all your questions are answered now.”
You grinned– truly, the night had taken an unexpected turn but you were not going to complain. There was only one thing left now.
You will have to make this official amongst the boys. You needed to hear if they were alright with this, and if they were, you were ready to become a part of their team.
For now, you were content sleeping in San’s warm embrace.
The wet winters was an unavoidable thing in Eden but it was still amusing to see how it vexed the citizens of Eden. The rest of your week passed by in a blur, unforgiving with its never-ending downpour of rain that cast a bleak spell on the area. The laughter of the children was replaced by shrieks as they huddled under shade, being shouted at by their guardians to get back home. The once calm and steady footsteps of the people making their way to begin with their day at their workplace was substituted by wet and uneven steps, often accompanied by a whisper of a string of curses.
You tried to stay optimistic but even you could relate to the cranky pedestrians when a cycle, or worse, a car would pass by, sending a splatter in your direction which you would narrowly avoid. Sometimes, you would carry the drops of muddy water on your bottoms to the office and make a quick stop at the toilet to scrub it off. You wished there was an umbrella that would guard you from head to toe.
Seonghwa told you that it was called ‘a car’ and you made a face– you would not be accepting conveyance offers. Your walks to the office and back home were perhaps the only mundane activity left in your life. Plus, you liked how the morning walk specifically made you vigilant if it was raining– calculating where to place your next footstep was quite a nice activity to wake your mind and get it running for the rest of the day. Working with the ‘big three’ made you want to start your day as normally as possible.
It also kept you humbled, and perhaps, you needed that now more than ever. While you and Hongjoong were no longer tense, you were starting to understand a few things. You were no longer an Edenary citizen– not by any means. You were now a Crescent, and that was the only identification you would need in the future.
Being a Crescent meant that you were an equal now. There were no longer any power dynamics going on– you did not need to prove your worth with the information you had or with your status. You just needed to work with them. They needed your brains– though, again, they really didn’t, as Hongjoong had clarified. They just needed… you.
Why did they need you anymore? Their deal with Madame Tiffany was done. You had already shared everything you knew about the elite’s dirty secrets that you deemed significant. Did you really deserve to be a Crescent? Did you deserve this position in the Crescent? Sure, a bookkeeper, maybe you earned that. A secretary, even. But to be one of The Leaders?
And to be wanted by them? Desired?
That question gnawed at you like a constant itch ever since San told you about the true dynamics of their relationship and their offer– to be with as many of them as you liked. While his admission had helped the guilt that you wished to be with more than one of them, it also contributed to the self-doubt and the insecurities you had been harbouring in your heart. Did you really deserve to be at this position?
And it was this confusion about your self-worth that was making you delay officially accepting their offer to be a Leader and be a part of their relationship dynamic. San had explained that the latter part would be shaped on your terms but that did nothing to comfort you. Plus, there were more pressing matters that you needed to take care of. It was odd how Madame Cha had not responded back to you after you told her about Madame Tiffany. You were wondering if she ever received your letter in the first place or if someone else got to it first– you wouldn’t be surprised if your father’s rats intercepted the letter.
Madame Tiffany was now fully aware of the boss’ vision for silver light. She understood why it was so important to a man like Kim Hongjoong to have that drug earn the status of a medicine so that he could crush the most powerful drug network in Edenary. Once silver light would be in the hands of a common man, the elites would no longer want to consume it or keep using it as their currency. The fundings for silver light would stop and he would finally learn just which influential personalities of Eden were involved in this. Things for the Crescents, especially business, would get easier from there.
Madame Tiffany, of course, didn’t need to know the last part. She could keep wondering if it was solely because Hongjoong was a moral man who wanted the best for the people of Eden.
That was true. He did want the best for his people– just not without gaining something himself as well.
Tonight was the last meeting with Madame Tiffany before she would be going back to Wonderland. So far, the sessions had been fruitful and she had already made her first instalment of payment, thus solidifying the partnership. You attended a few meetings too and learned a lot from her– while she was considerably young for an owner of multiple businesses, she was well-experienced and had knowledge to share. You were starting to think that you had been worried for no reason.
When you were not attending the meeting, you were working in the background with her assistants while Hongjoong and Seonghwa or Yunho gave Madame Tiffany company. Tonight, you were handling the legal aspect of the finances with Jihoon– the two of you had been on it since before Madame Tiffany arrived, making sure her huge advance payment would be adjusted properly and unsuspiciously into the current statements especially since a few inspectors had been keeping an eye on the Crescents tax and bank statements recently.
You both would have to make sure not to raise suspicion at such a sensitive time and maybe keep the extra cash stored somewhere safe, which was another headache. It was a relief that the weapons incharge group needed cash soon so you only had to worry about transporting the extra bunch safely.
You checked the time on your wrist watch– it was almost 10 and that meant the meeting was about to be over. You let Jihoon know who instantly relaxed back in the chair to crack his neck and you both grinned at the loud sounds that his aching joints produced.
“Eunha owes us a meal for skipping out on this,” you said, signing the last document and shutting the folder with a sense of accomplishment.
“Oh, definitely. I’ll make sure she pays us back as early as possible,” Jihoon muttered, highlighting a line in the report and passing it to you to check for any discrepancies. You confirmed that it was alright and he concluded his work as well. “Oh, also, I forgot to tell you because it’s been so busy here, but someone came looking for you today. Not exactly ‘looking’, but asked if you worked here.”
“Me?” Your heart sank. “Who would?”
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t anyone from around here– I would have recognised him if he was. He said he would find you. He didn’t give me a name.”
“Well… geez. It could be someone my father sent to kill me.”
“Yeah, and he would come marching right in here unscathed, huh?” Jihoon shook his head.
“What did he look like?”
“Cool,” Jihoon laughed. “Had a few piercings– one here to match with his moles or something,” he pointed at his brows and your face scrunched in confusion before you realised.
“Lim Jaebeom was here?”
Jihoon narrowed his eyes when you looked absolutely shocked to learn the identity of the person who came to see you. “Is that supposed to be someone important?”
“Kind of, but I wish he had come earlier,” you nervously looked at the closed door of the boss’ room. “That’s my source for verification on Tiffany.”
“I thought you gave up on that?”
“I did,” you nodded and he whistled in response, agreeing it was too late now. You simply needed to pray that Jaebeom brought good news.
You could not stop shaking your leg while you waited for the meeting to be over and once Yunho stepped out, he paused when he saw a very tired Jihoon and a very fidgety you. He immediately came over to dismiss Jihoon first after making sure everything was okay, and then he called you into his office.
“How did the meeting go?”
“It was okay. They’re just chatting now so I thought I would leave. It was a good idea, apparently,” he looked at your jittery hands pointedly. “Can’t wait to go home?”
“It’s not that,” you laughed, deciding not to tell anyone about Jaebeom until you actually had something to share. “Okay, yeah, I might be a bit tired too.”
Yunho hummed in response while he locked the documents in the cabinet. “You need a ride? I’m going to the bar and it looks like it’s still raining.”
“Oh, yes, please,” you groaned in relief. “I can’t wait to take these damp clothes off– I had to run outside to get a snack and got caught in the rain.”
Yunho raised a brow, scanning your body– if the clothes had been a lighter colour, he might have gotten a look at your silhouette. You folded your arms and shook your head.
“Get your head out of the gutter, Lieutenant Jeong. I’m not taking anything off here.”
“Whatever happened to our office romance?” Yunho wondered, grinning as he asked you to follow him downstairs and you caught Hongjoong and Madame Tiffany sharing a farewell handshake, opting to wait inside until she was gone.
As soon as she was out of sight, Hongjoong’s fake smile dropped and he turned, rolling his eyes when he saw the two of you snickering at the change in his demeanour. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. She smiles too fucking much.”
“What a gentleman,” you commented, patting his shoulder in mock sympathy. “We were just leaving– he’s dropping me home.”
“Wait till Seonghwa hears that,” Hongjoong scoffed. “He’s still bitter about how you won’t accept a car and a driver.”
“I’m only making use of this man here,” you pointed at Yunho. “Why don’t you two try taking a walk tonight, huh, you and Seonghwa? Get a breath of that fresh air– you look like you need it.”
You proceeded to sit in the passenger seat with a teasing look shot at Hongjoong who stood at the entrance of the office, thoroughly amused. The ride to your home wasn’t too long so it was mostly silent and you made him park the car at the end of the street so he could save a turn.
“Well, that is goodnight,” you started grabbing your things. “And we part ways till it is the morrow.”
Yunho brushed his fingers against your hand and you let him link your hands. He squeezed them before he raised your hand to kiss the back of it.
“When are you going to talk to the boys?”
You knew what he meant. You smiled. “I just want the business to settle down a bit before we take that step. There’s too much going on right now.”
“I understand,” he pressed another kiss to your hand. “I’m just excited for it.”
“Gosh, you’re such a child sometimes,” you laughed, returning the sentiment and kissing the back of his hand. “I think I need to personally talk to Yeosang first.”
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed. “He’s waited too long for you.”
You pursed your lips guiltily. “He wouldn’t mind that I– that me and you, and me and San–”
“No, he wouldn’t. Not in the slightest,” Yunho assured you. “However, he is the type to mind after you make this official.”
“Oh, thank you for the tip. I shall keep that in mind,” you breathed. That sounded like the Yeosang you knew. “Any other tips to share?”
“Hmm… the underboss likes to receive gifts. Meaningful gifts.”
“I knew he had that side to him,” you shook your head, recalling seeing a bunch of stuff that seemed out of place on Seonghwa’s office desk. “What else?”
Yunho took a moment to think, caressing your hand absently. “The consigliere quite likes intimate moments like these. He might never admit that, though.”
“Is that so?” You tugged at his hand, beckoning him to look at you and for once, he looked shy which made you bite back a grin. “Does he like eye contact or is he too tough for that?”
“Oh, he can hold his eye contact,” Yunho assured in a low voice, looking intently at you and sending butterflies in the pit of your stomach. “He is known not to break away first.”
“I would take this challenge when I’m not feeling icky,” you told him, just wanting to get out of your clothes that stuck to your skin. “But…”
You pulled him in and locked his lips with yours, sharing a sweet kiss. The way he looked at you afterwards made you want to stay and talk about feelings, for once, but you only smiled, pecking his lips in farewell.
And it was a good idea to let him go. Just as you had predicted, the familiar figure of the leader of one of the most notorious and influential underworld gangs of Wonderland sat on a bench, fiddling with his smoke. You took a look around before taking a seat at the other end of the bench.
“Fancy seeing you here, Jaebeom.”
Jaebeom scanned your figure slowly with his piercing gaze before it softened just a fraction. “You’ve grown, kiddo.”
You smiled widely at the term– strangely, he had been the first one to give you such a childish nickname. It made you see him in an almost familial way.
“How’s Madame Cha?” You asked. “And what brings you here?”
“Your aunt’s the same,” he began, crossing one leg over the other. “Which means she’s thriving, keeping the boys busy. Me? I came to take a breather.”
“Lies,” you scoffed. “You can’t leave them alone. You’re incapable of that.”
“But I’m here,” he spread his arms to prove a point. “Okay, I’m here with Jinyoung. He had some business here and now was a good time to tag along and deliver some news.”
“Good news or bad news?” You asked sombrely.
“Both?” He inhaled deeply. “But not now. There’s still a few things I need to check before I decide what to give you.”
“Is this about Madame Tiffany?” You prodded. Reluctantly, he gave in with a nod.
“Just tell me if it looks bad,” you tried swallowing the anxiety in your voice.
“It could be the end of your beloved Crescents’ career, if I’m right about this,” he said in a low voice and you cursed under your breath– you knew it. “It’s hard to say anything right now because we didn’t find anything while investigating her. She’s clean, you know that.”
You nodded. Countless thorough checks brought nothing to attention.
“You know Madame Cha makes us track shifts in the elite world to have an idea of what the political situation in the continent looks like– and it’s looking bad. We fear the stepping stones for the second war of our lifetime are being cemented, and we’re working with people from around the continent to try and stabilise the situation. It’s kind of ambiguous right now, so I can’t really say…”
“But she might be involved?”
“We spotted her with far too many instigators to call it a ‘coincidence’,” Jaebeom explained. “It could be just her business and stuff, but there’s a chance that she might be involved. However miniscule it might be.”
“Good lord,” you breathed. “Wish I had learned that earlier.”
“Like I said, she’s clean. Far too clean,” Jaebeom tsk-ed in disappointment. “But we got a tip and got busy. We might need the Crescents to join hands with us in the future, so don’t look like you’ve just seen the grim reaper.”
“You don’t understand,” you looked at Jaebeom, positive your face was void of colour now. “If she’s involved… we’ve given her the key to destroy the Crescents… and ultimately Eden.”
Jaebeom pursed his lips in disbelief. “I sure hope not. I’ll report back soon– stay vigilant.”
The ickiness of your clothes didn’t bother you anymore. You sat on the bench, letting the dampness of it stick to your soul for a while, waiting for a miracle to happen. However, the only miracle that did happen was that you mustered up your courage to go in the comfort of your room, away from the monsters of this world.
After washing up, you found yourself in front of Wendy’s room. Her door was slightly ajar and you peeked inside– she seemed to be asleep. You quietly got inside the covers next to her and she stirred in her sleep, turning to you and opening one eye to confirm your presence.
“Everything alright?” She mumbled, voice laden with sleep.
You didn’t answer. “I’m just very tired, Wendy.”
Wendy smiled sadly before falling back asleep, one arm draped over your chest. You followed, hoping the last bit of tonight was just a bad dream and you would magically wake up in your own room as if nothing had happened.
next chapter
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"maybe a place where light and darkness meet, the choice between truth and lies is mine."
masterlist
ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au
chapter warnings: drinking, illegal businesses, mentions of violence, war/military and weapons, mention of drug(s), mc is confused as fawk but is vibing with whatever is going on, we finally meet the asshole father, hongjoong shows that he can be an asshole too, cue tears, seonghwa takes that chance to up his game (look idk how else to do warnings) (i may have missed sth)
chapter wc: 13.8k
chapter synopsis: the crescents share updates, deciding to dig deeper into the unknown identity of the anonymous funder. yeosang reveals that the rv spies are protecting you from a threat that is not secretary park and the anxiety of that unknown threat weighs on you heavily. yunho hints at the nature of the crescents’ relationship and you decide to take some time to think about it. The bosses finally tell you about their drug project and hongjoong asks you to accompany them to edenary as their partner, where they will be making a new deal. you confront secretary park there, but the night ends in tears, especially when you conflict with the boss. the underboss is there to make you feel better.
prev chapter recap: you are supposed to meet assemblyman wi with hongjoong. seonghwa tries his best to calm you while hongjoong gifts you an infinity clasp bracelet which only confuses you further. when you meet the assemblyman, hongjoong admits that he’s trying to make you ‘a leader’. you successfully make assemblyman wi agree to investigate secretary park with the keyword of ‘strictland’. while you relax with san, yeosang has a meeting with wendy and learns that the rv spies are protecting you from threats that they refuse to reveal– the real threat is not secretary park. worried, yeosang decides to call a meeting with the boys without your knowledge. you practise shooting with the warehouse boys and you learn that yunho has actually placed bets on how you won’t be able to shoot a single target. agitated, you cheat a little and have the warehouse boys win the bet. you also ask them to look into their anonymous funders as you learn more about the weapons project. finally, you confront yunho who teases you to no end but takes you to a place from his childhood to show you how he learned to aim. the night takes an unexpected, intimate turn.
You once heard about the butterfly effect. It was fascinating to hear how the most infinitesimal flutter of their wings could end up creating a ripple of change through time itself– unimaginable and irreversible change.
Sometimes, you would trace back the events of your life to understand which flutter of a pair of wings, or which pebble thrown in the lake led you to where you were today, at Room no. 1 at the Crescent Bar with all of the boys around you– probably a consequence of a series of small and insignificant decisions coupled with some big decisions.
It was surreal how you went from an observer of the Crescents to being a part of the Crescents yourself.You never thought their little actions would make your heart move so much and never did you imagine that they would create their space in your heart in such a short period of time. Instead of sneaking peeks from the office window, you sat among them and noticed that your presence didn’t change anything.
Your presence didn’t make them wary and you found the nature of their conversations remained the same as without you. They were including you in their discussion and making you feel comfortable with the little things- asking for your opinion as if it mattered (yes, they insisted it did but it was still hard to believe so), pouring wine for you, putting food in your plate, and even–
Even paying attention to the little details– the slight raise of your brow whenever you didn’t fully agree with something, the curling of your fingers as you picked on your skin when all eyes were trained on you, the exchange of glances with San when you both found something funny, the pointed look towards Yeosang when Hongjoong would play boss with you, the pointed look in Hongjoong’s direction when he would point out a discrepancy in your argument.
The way your eyes naturally fixed on Seonghwa whenever you needed assurance, which was kind of funny because this man was mainly the reason you were here right now. The way you would avoid Yunho’s eyes when his fingers would intertwine with yours with a promising squeeze in hopes of providing some sort of comfort or agreement. The masking of your laughter when Jongho shared a cheesy joke and the partnering with Wooyoung whenever you had something funny to add to the argument since your sense of humour matched with his the most. And finally, the way you would look towards Mingi for help whenever you felt like you were being driven into a corner by any one of them.
You were the most relieved to realise that your presence didn’t change their dynamics, yet, there was an inevitable change in their interactions so they could be attentive towards you, and you to them. You fitted right in. It was not a missing piece of the puzzle, rather, the puzzle itself changed to accommodate you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Luna? Are you alright?”
It was both Yunho’s voice and his comforting squeeze of hand that brought you out of a trance and you blinked, appreciating the call.
“Oh, I’m perfectly alright. Just zoned out for a moment.”
You were alright. Your heart felt full at the sight of the boys chatting and eating, Seonghwa scooping some more rice for you and nudging you with his hand on your shoulder, pointing at the food. “I make sure everyone eats.”
“I finished two bowls, Sir.”
“Well, this one is still full,” he said. “Eat.”
“Yes, Sir,” you mocked, downing a drink, not oblivious to the snickers from the boys who overheard this little interaction. You sent a glare in their direction before giving in and begrudgingly taking a bite. You couldn’t disobey the underboss and expect to get away with it.
“Alright, if we’re all done eating and fooling around,” Hongjoong called after a few moments, grabbing everyone’s attention. “General Wi called to let me know that he thinks we’re right to suspect Secretary Park. He sent his men to tail Park Sunghoon and they got ambushed and barely made it out alive.”
Jongho grunted at the news, brows scrunching in thought. “Could Sunghoon be acting on his own, though?”
Hongjoong looked towards you for an answer and you shook your head. “I’m not sure if anything has changed in the past couple of years, but our father never allowed him to stray too far. He’s always had him on a leash, you could say. Might be part of the reason why Sunghoon rebels so much.”
“Right,” Hongjoong nodded. “General Wi did find something odd. He used his connections to find out if Secretary Park has been out of the country recently, and discovered that he’s been frequenting Halaland for a considerable amount of time now.”
“He could have some other dealing going on in Halaland?” San wondered, always giving anyone the benefit of doubt. “We should look into that.”
“Or if he’s visiting Strictland,” Mingi began. “He can’t simply go to Strictland from Eden. That would be too obvious. You need a permit to visit Strictland from Eden but if I’m recalling correctly, you can visit Strictland without a permit if you’re a Hala local. He could have easily tagged with some locals then.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t simply go to Strictland from here if he was involved in something illegal,” you agreed with Mingi. “He can go to extreme lengths to hide something he doesn’t want the world to know about.”
The boys had a feeling that you were referring to yourself too and they exchanged glances. Yeosang was the first to speak. “We can check if he’s had any reason to go to Halaland first before we assume that he’s up to something in Strictland. Are we still in contact with Suho’s gang?”
“It’s been radio silence for a while but I’ll make a call or send a message– I can’t promise a positive response,” Jongho said and you wondered if being half-Hala ever earned him some benefits. Was he really friendly with the gang based in Halaland? “We didn’t really end things on a good note.”
“It’s fine, we can look for some other means too,” Seonghwa suggested. “Maybe the RV spies.”
“The RV spies?” You repeated, the name foreign on your lips. “Who are they?”
“A spy network of women,” Seonghwa was smiling and you thought there was a secret concealed within his words. “You remember Winter? She’s one of them. They’re really good at disguise and have dirt on literally every person in Eden– even the common man.”
You let that sink in. Seonghwa had a meeting with Winter the other day and the sight of her rocked a familiar yet distant memory in your head. You were positive you had come across her in Edenary. So she was a spy?
“If they’re that extensive and meticulous, they would know a lot about me, right? Maybe things that even I don’t know about.”
“Yeah, we considered contacting them when we were looking into your background,” Yunho admitted and you made a face, making him laugh a bit. “We never got to that, though. We had other sources.”
“Kihyun?” You asked and he nodded in confirmation.
“And Hongjoong was quick enough to figure it out himself,” Seonghwa added, amused as he recalled that night.
“Yeah, well, it was very obvious. Your father may have done a good job hiding you but you didn’t really do a good job hiding yourself,” he commented.
“Well, I wasn’t really hiding myself,” you lied and he caught that, raising a brow in challenge. “More like… delaying the inevitable.”
The boys laughed at that, Jongho filling everyone’s glasses again and you all cheered before drinking.
“Oh, one last thing,” Mingi began, having just recalled his recent findings. “We officially know the identity of all of our anonymous funders save for one.”
“And you’ve tried everything?” Hongjoong asked and when Mingi nodded, he settled back in thought.
“How old is the source?”
“September 1966,” Mingi said and the room fell silent as everyone tried to recall the events from four years ago.
You remembered that time well. “I came back to Eden from Wonderland on 14th August, 1966.”
“And President Han Hyojoo was assassinated on 17th August,” Wooyoung scratched his chin. “There were a lot of protests and things were bad for a while– even in September. Right?”
“Yes,” Yunho took a deep breath. “I think it was in September when the Siren Rebel Party laid its foundations. They feared martial law would be imposed on Eden, but President Lee won the elections– he was a favourite at that time.”
“Pity votes,” Wooyoung huffed, folding his arms. “I never liked that man. His smile scares me.”
While some of them burst into laughter, teasing Wooyoung’s unwarranted dislike for the President of Eden, Seonghwa noticed how you fell silent. “What are you thinking?”
“Why was President Han assassinated?” You wondered. “I mean, yeah, she obviously had enemies, but wasn’t she from a long line of politicians? She wasn’t the first female president either. Didn’t she contribute a lot to rebuild Eden?”
“She did,” Hongjoong said, “alongside President Son until his term was over, and then she won the elections yet kept a strong partnership with President Son. They were quite a pair.”
“And Lee Jinwook was basically a nobody even while he was a politician until his wife got killed,” Wooyoung said. “Then he started collecting pity votes.”
“I think Wooyoung has got some personal beef with President Lee,” Jongho laughed. “He’s always after him.”
“You would be too if you look closely,” Wooyoung wasn’t having any of it. “We all know that he only won because of his late wife, and now he thinks he’s something.”
“Well, Eden has been stable in his administration so far, and we’re almost nearing the end of his term,” Yeosang tried. “He doesn’t really have enemies.”
“Isn’t that odd?” You narrowed your eyes. “If President Lee claims to be continuing his wife’s legacy, and his wife got killed because someone had a problem with how things ran, wouldn’t they get rid of him too?”
“That… is a good point,” San shifted uncomfortably.
“What is the difference between President Lee’s administration and President Han’s?” You asked, looking around. “He can’t be running things exactly the same way, right?”
“It’s mostly the same, with a few changes,” Seonghwa said. “Attempts to try to improve the relation with Halaland, which shouldn’t be odd because we can’t be at the risk of war all the time. More contributions to the healthcare system and that we can owe that to Secretary Park, and then… a few personnel and administration changes. President Son retired from politics altogether– there was some tension between them.”
You bit your lips in thought. You really needed to refresh your history because something was gnawing at your mind; a connection that was present and felt an arm’s reach away but you couldn’t grab it.
“Do you think it’s got anything to do with our anonymous source?” Hongjoong asked. “I don’t want you wasting time on what-ifs. If you’re sure there’s a connection, then we can investigate.”
You nodded, making a mental note to talk to Seonghwa about this later. You might be shooting an arrow in the dark but you could never be too sure. “I just think the timing is odd. President Lee wouldn’t need to make sure there are enough weapons in Eden illegally. So it’s got to be someone who was sure President Lee would not be doing enough for Eden’s defence.”
Mingi agreed, “They think the President is still not doing enough considering how we receive our paychecks regularly.”
“Alright, let’s assume there is a connection but don’t let it narrow the focus of your investigation,” Hongjoong concluded and he started giving instructions around the table. The meeting was over and you would all be separating ways now.
“Do you have a moment before you leave?” Yeosang asked when you were picking up your belongings, the warehouse boys just having shared farewell hugs with you. There was still a smile on your face from when Wooyoung kissed your cheek and looked pointedly at Yunho– you weren’t sure if Wooyoung was aware that you and Yunho had crossed some boundaries, but it was still amusing to watch Yunho roll his eyes and scoff before leaving. Wooyoung said they would be having dinner at BB Trippin soon and you were also invited.
“Sure. I was only going to go home,” you said and followed him to his office. You dumped your things on his desk as if you still belonged there– perhaps, you did. The office looked more unorganised than usual with empty glasses lining the table, a few bottles in the corner and documents strewn everywhere.
“Have you been drinking?” You asked. Yeosang was a drinker, but he was never untidy.
“Ah, yes,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I can explain the mess– I was looking into a few things recently and uh…”
“And Luna is not here anymore to clean up after you?” You finished for him. “No new bookkeeper?”
“I’m the bookkeeper now,” he said in all seriousness and you passed him a warning look. “Alright, I’m considering Jeonghan for the post.”
“Jeonghan would make you do all the work while he naps or fools around,” you pointed out but you both knew you were joking– he was really clever and you were considering suggesting him to Yeosang anyway. “So, what’s this about?”
Yeosang waited until you settled down and then he took a seat in front of you across the desk. He was watching you in thought and you let him have a moment to sort his thoughts out.
“I worry about your safety, Luna,” he started. “And it’s why I want you to be honest during our conversation. I know you have your own secrets but I really need to confirm a few things so we know what we’re dealing with.”
“Okay,” you nodded, narrowing your eyes in suspicion and confusion.
“The boys do not know that I’m having this conversation with you because we agreed not to tell you, for now,” he told you and you blinked in surprise. They told each other everything. “But after this meeting, I think we should talk. And if you wish so, our conversation can remain between us unless we feel that we should let them know for safety reasons.”
“Alright,” you shifted uncomfortably. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Are you sure your father is the only one who means to harm you?”
Oh.
“I mean… Sunghoon might?” you suggested. “He’s always been after me for different reasons. Sibling rivalry, if you can call it that.”
“Yeah, but if Secretary Park is after you and Sunghoon is aware of it, then he wouldn’t need to interfere, right?” Yeosang said and you shrugged in agreement. “Can you think of any other person who might be after you? Anyone who might have a grudge against you? Anyone from Eden or Wonderland?”
“Did something happen?” You asked again, your voice laced with worry.
“Nothing, but we got a tip recently. The RV spies didn’t reveal who they meant, but they were sure that Secretary Park is not the real threat that you should be worrying about.”
Cold washed over you as his words registered, a montage of your life flashing through your eyes in an attempt to recall any falling out you’ve had with someone who was not your family, or any time you might have intentionally or unintentionally caused harm to someone or said something unkind.
“I… can’t think of anything, Yeosang,” you looked at him and he immediately moved to hold your hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly to ease the despair in your voice. “Why would someone be after me? My father has a reason, even though it’s not justifiable, but why would someone else be?”
He only shrugged in response. He had no answer either and from what he knew, you had lived a pretty secluded life.
“Could it be Assemblyman General Wi? I might have rubbed off on him the wrong way–”
“I don’t think they meant him. They didn’t say anything explicitly but… you must understand that RV spies are assassins. Usually, they are employed to get rid of a person or an organisation. But for the first time, I’m hearing that they’re protecting someone.”
“Who?”
“Who do you think?” He cocked his head and you exhaled in disbelief. “They think whatever information you have is valuable enough that they have to make sure that it’s not in the wrong hands. I think if they haven’t killed you yet, that means they’re okay with you sharing that information with us.”
“Very helpful, Yeosang,” you muttered and he stifled a smile.
“They’re protecting you,” he chastised, squeezing your hands softly for good measure. “Whoever you are or whatever you’ve heard while you were in Edenary is worth enough that the most notorious spies and assassins are trying to protect you. And they think they’ll be doomed if you get hurt.”
“That can’t be true,” you wrenched your hands away from Yeosang, shaking your head furiously. “I’ve told you everything that I’ve heard.”
“And I believe you,” Yeosang responded cautiously. “I just want you to think again, yeah? You don’t have to worry– you’re safe. You can take your time and think if there was something that was odd and didn’t make sense back then. It might make sense now. Your time in Edenary, in Wonderland and when you came back… I know it’s overwhelming but can you do that for me?”
You nodded absently, getting up and clutching your bag in one hand, about to leave when Yeosang stepped in front of you and gave you a disapproving look.
“Don’t let it get to your head, Luna,” he placed his hands on the dip of your shoulders, locking eyes with you. “You’ll be okay.”
“Why do the rest don’t know about this meeting, Yeosang?” You asked, unable to keep the scepticism from your tone. “Do they still not trust me after all I’ve done for them? After all I’ve given them?”
Yeosang shook his head. “They trust you, and we all mutually agreed to try to get the RV spies to talk or look into it ourselves, because we didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he admitted. “We knew you’d take it to heart. They don’t like to see you anxious.”
“What do they care if I’m anxious or not?”
“I thought you knew by now, Luna, that we care. All of us do.”
“Then why did you tell me now?” You asked, barely a whisper.
“Because I’ve known you longer than they have,” he smiled. “And I know that if you’re aware of this, you might be less cross with us than if you find out later. I owe you one, remember?”
He was making up to you for getting you involved with them– for assigning you bookkeeping without telling you the consequences of that job. You avoided his gaze as you smiled but you felt guilty for snapping at him.
The boys really just wanted to make sure that you were at peace. They would rather inconvenience themselves to find out the answers than have you restless.
Yeosang hooked his finger under your chin, making you look at him and you both dissolved into chuckles as you tried to pull away from him. You quickly gave up and let him bring you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you securely and his steady voice assuring you that you would be okay, that you had nothing to worry about. That they would keep you safe. You buried your nose in the crook of his neck, taking deep breaths and he kissed the top of your head.
When you drew away, his hands slid down your arms to hold your hands and he noticed the cuff bracelet on your wrist, lips curling into a smile as he recognised it.
“Do you always wear it?”
“Yeah,” you raised your arm to look at the silver bracelet. It looked like he was aware that Hongjoong had given it to you, and now that you knew that Yeosang had feelings for you that were not entirely platonic, it was strange to see not a hint of jealousy or envy on his face. Instead, his eyes gleamed and you poked his chest.
“You’re weird, Yeosang.”
“Nothing I haven’t heard before,” he scoffed, watching the bracelet on your wrist for just a moment longer before he looked at you. “Let me know if you feel like it’s too much, okay?”
“Which part?”
Yeosang had a faint smile on his lips as he tucked your hair back and caressed your cheeks in the process. “Whichever part feels too much?”
“I don’t understand when you all are going to stop trying to talk to me in circles and say something,” you almost cried out. “That part is too much.”
“Is there something you’ve been wanting to hear?” Yeosang cocked his head, amused. “Or… did something happen? Something you’d like to tell me about?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Is there something you’d like me to tell you?”
“Hmm… let’s see,” he trailed his finger down your temple, his thumb subtly swiping at your bottom lip, perhaps an indication that he did know. “I’m just wondering if you found the answer to the question you asked me last time.”
“What question?” You asked softly, feigning innocence as you curled your fingers around his hand that rested on your cheek. “Why don’t you remind me again?”
Yeosang only chuckled, knowing very well that perhaps, you were done playing games with them– or at least him. He drew back, raising his hands in defeat.
“Maybe when you’re ready to answer it.”
“Yeosang,” you warned. “You’re all in this together, aren’t you? At least some of you.”
“Whatever do you mean?” He raised a brow in challenge, opening the door for you. “Have a good evening, Luna.”
The rain continued to pour without a break for the remainder of the week and more. The sun would rarely come out but when it did, it would be heavily concealed by clouds and just offer a sheen of glimmer on the wet pavements and roads of Sector 1. The days remained bleak, a reflection or perhaps a fuel for your gloominess.
Although nothing significant happened after your conversation with Yeosang a few days ago, it still weighed heavily upon your heart. The shift in your mood didn’t go unnoticed by your colleagues Eunha and Jihoon, though they didn’t comment on your lack of contribution to conversations and how your smile didn’t meet your eyes anymore. They had a feeling that if they probed, you wouldn’t offer anything in return.
They didn’t need to either, for there were plenty of people worrying about you. Yunho, for instance, who was quick to realise something was up and confronted you the other night when you were in his office finishing up a report.
You tried to avoid the question by dismissing the change in your energy as exhaustion but he wasn’t having any of it. You figured you were obvious, especially in front of him. It was hard to look at him without wanting to open up your heart to him, especially when his presence was so welcoming.
“Won’t you talk to me about it?” He pleaded in a mellow voice and an even softer gaze, his eyes rounding and brows scrunching.
There. Your weakness.
“Yunho. You can’t look at me like that,” you tossed the pen on the table between you and slumped back, folding your arms as you softly admonished. “This won’t work on me anymore.”
“What?”
“Those eyes of yours,” you said and he choked on his laughter. He proceeded to loosen his tie, the top button of his shirt conveniently unbuttoned already. Strands of hair messily fell over his forehead and you had to physically restrain the urge to run your hands through his soft hair.
“I’d say it’s working,” he smiled almost victoriously, leaning forward. “Can you really not talk about it?”
You pressed your lips tightly in consideration before you finally gave in. You were only human, after all. “Yeosang told me about how the RV spies are protecting me from some threat that is not my father.”
Yunho whistled in realisation. Of course that was bothering you. “I knew he was going to tell you.”
“I expected you would tell me.”
“Well, I was the one who insisted that we don’t tell you yet for exactly this reason,” he looked at you pointedly and you hid your face behind your hands, guilty. “You’re all worried now. Anyways, I wouldn’t believe anything they say right away without verification, though they’re a pretty reliable source.”
You uncovered your face. “Don’t tell the rest that I know, okay?”
Yunho laughed softly but agreed. “So? Any thoughts about who might be interested in you?”
“I wouldn’t be in this state if I had it figured out,” you almost cried out. “I have been very low-profile until I started working here in the office. I can’t think of anyone who would want to get rid of me– for what? For the information I possess? What information exactly, because what I have right now only threatens Secretary Park… unless…”
“Unless Secretary Park’s secret is someone else’s secret too?” Yunho finished for you and you nodded. “Do you recall who exactly was the person your father was discussing the Strictland matter with?”
“I only caught a glimpse and I didn’t recognise him– I must have seen him for the first time,” you said.
“Do you think you could recognise him if you see him again?”
“Maybe?” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “If they’re trying so hard to hide it, and if the person who’s after me must be someone my father has partnered with on the Strictland matter, It must mean whatever is happening in Strictland is actually taking place… right?”
Yunho didn’t need to answer that– he was sure that if you were not hiding anything else from them, this might be it.
“We’re taking care of it, okay? You really don’t have to worry about it– or if you have to worry, don’t think about it too much. You don’t have any answers yet, and that’s okay.”
You offered him a weak smile and got up to place the compiled folder on his desk. When you were about to go back to sit across from him, he patted the space next to him instead.
“Come here.”
You felt butterflies in your stomach at the way his voice sounded like a command. You could resist, but his gaze was incredibly pulling so you settled next to him, keeping a respectful distance between your bodies.
“Is that all you’ve been worrying about?”
“Well… obviously not,” you shot him a look but when his fingers curled around your hand, you didn’t snatch it away. “I don’t know what you want from me, Yunho.”
“What I want doesn’t matter,” he started but you shook your head.
“You’ve talked to Yeosang, haven’t you?” You asked and he didn’t respond, searching your eyes. “And he’s talked to you. You all talk to each other. You’re all far too close with each other. I’m noticing that recently.”
“Really?” He said in an almost mocking tone. “And what other observations has our little secretary made?”
“Yunho,” you called in a warning tone. “I’m not trying to judge you or probe into whatever it is that is going on between you guys. But I am beginning to understand that you’re all a team and everyone knows everything about each other.”
“And?”
“And…” you sighed, looking at your joined hands and sliding your thumb across his skin. “I don’t know.”
“What do you want from us?” Yunho asked softly.
There it was. Us. It was never a ‘me’. It was always an ‘us’.
“What do you mean by ‘us’?” You raised a brow.
“Are you sure you’re ready to hear that answer?”
Oh, fuck him. He was literally steering the conversation in the same direction that Yeosang had.
“Well, you can stop confusing me for once and talk,” you snatched your hand away this time.
“How can I talk when I don’t know what you want from me, or from Yeosang?” Yunho raised a brow,a teasing smile plastered on his face. “We kissed. You like Yeosang.”
“I like you too,” you added and immediately regretted it when you saw his grin grow wider. “Does it not bother you? That I like him and you both?”
Yunho only smiled and looked down, trying to form a response but failing to because this was a confession–
And this meant that Seonghwa really was right about you. He was one meticulous bastard.
“Does it bother you?” Yunho asked, and you finally realised that this was the question you should be asking yourself.
Does it bother you that you like Yeosang and Yunho? Does it bother you that you were attracted to San and that one soft look from Seonghwa made you feel like you could soar into the skies? Does it bother you that the Captain– Hongjoong– meant so much to you that the bracelet he gave you was becoming an anchor for you to remind you that you were safe, protected, and perhaps, wanted?
Could any of it be the beginning of something beautiful and unknown, or had you finally lost your mind?
“Don’t get lost in there,” Yunho scooted closer, planting a kiss on your temple and remaining close. “Just do me a favour and figure out your feelings about us first, will you? I can’t explain anything until you’re sure that… that you want us like we want you.”
“What does that mean?” You asked, stomach twisting into knots though your heart raced in anticipation.
Yunho wasn’t going to answer that, but he could help ease your confusion a little. “It’s okay if you choose one of us, or none of us. We will respect your decisions. But… you can also choose more of us. We don’t mind.”
Suddenly, everything started to make a little more sense– the subtle glances the boys would exchange among themselves when you were in the room. The way Seonghwa always looked like he knew something about you that even you didn’t. The way Yunho must have known Yeosang liked you before he kissed you and still told him– and the way Yeosang knew Yunho had kissed you and wanted to hear it from your mouth. The way he looked at your bracelet knowingly– was it a marker that you were theirs now?
Oh, and how San was almost flirting with you as of recently. The thing Wooyoung had said about you not just being their secretary, but a part of their inner circle– just what did being a part of their inner circle entailed? And the way Mingi and Jongho were so welcoming and friendly towards you– while they had not done anything to make you feel like they had crossed some platonic boundary, you were suddenly reading too much into everything.
“Does it overwhelm you?”
“Of course it does,” you admitted but when you didn’t flinch away from him, he took that as a positive sign. “I need time.”
“Of course. You have all the time in the world. There really is no rush,” he brushed the pad of his thumb along your cheek in soft, slow caresses.
“And I want you to stop swaying my feelings.”
Yunho’s head dipped down in silent surrender to guilt, though the smirk creeping on his face threatened to give him away. “I’m sorry but I can’t resist that. Not until you give me a solid rejection.”
“Ah, let’s end it then–”
“Hey!” He placed his hand over your mouth to keep you from finishing the sentence and you burst into giggles, even more so when you tried pushing him away, but before you knew it, he was almost on top of you with a finger on his mouth shushing you, his hand on your mouth dampening your laugh until you stopped, realising the tangled position that you were in and feeling warmth course through your entire body– warmth that made you shiver as if you were cold instead.
“Quiet, okay?” Yunho whispered and you nodded, eyes wide. “And don’t reject me right now.”
He pulled his hand away, rubbing the smear of the lipstick at the corner of your mouth when he discovered it, his lips parting in concentration and when he was done, he looked into your eyes to find them laden with–
Desire. It had to be desire. If your eyes weren’t indication enough, the way your breath quickened was.
Yunho licked his lips instinctively, his breath getting heavier with want and you wondered if he really wanted you as badly as you wanted him. Ignoring that you both had agreed to give you some space, you pushed yourself upwards just a bit, crowding his personal space and his breath hitched when he found you inches away.
It was electrifying to know that someone wanted you back for once and when you looked at him pleadingly, he crashed his lips on yours, making you fall right back on the couch. You looped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with equal enthusiasm, arching into him and he caught your body in an embrace with one arm around your back and the other cradling the back of your neck.
While your kiss at the park had been passionate, this one was putting it to shame– he poked his tongue inside your mouth at the first opportunity, deepening the kiss and then angled his face to kiss you better. His hand travelled down to your waist and a suggestive squeeze elicited a moan from your mouth which he was quick to swallow with a kiss. When you finally drew back for breath, he rested his forehead against yours for just a moment before proceeding to trail kisses down your cheek, along your jaw and then downwards, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Yunho,” you softly whispered, relishing the feeling of his warm breath against your skin, running your fingers through his hair lovingly. He hummed against your neck, resting his lips on the juncture of your neck, realising that perhaps… he should have waited. You both should have waited.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t end this on a good note. He looked up at you with an understanding smile, washing away all your worries. And then he peppered kisses all over your face, eliciting a shy smile. With a final few pecks to your lips, he nodded in satisfaction.
“Yeah, I’ll give you your space.”
You laughed darkly, shaking your head. Patting his chest twice, you got out of his embrace which was a struggle in every sense.
“Maybe we should start including Seonghwa in our meetings too so we don’t end up making out each time we’re alone.”
“Oh, he would enjoy that,” Yunho commented and you raised a brow but he only shook his head, ending the conversation.
It was electrifying to know that someone wanted you back. And not just someone…
But someone else too, and perhaps more.
Despite your recent interactions with the boys, the looming threat over your head came to be the reason that your mood turned as bleak as the evenings of Eden. Yunho asked you if it was something he did but you assured him that you were more worried about figuring out who was after you and how it was tied to Strictland.
Seonghwa, of course, also noticed the shift in your mood. He was aware of everything that had gone down the past few days and he wondered if now was a good time to tell you about the recent deal they were preparing to offer to a certain business figure– the deal that would originally have been Secretary Park’s. Hongjoong insisted that now was the only time and since the new contender was from Wonderland, your opinion might prove to be valuable again.
“Luna?” He called, having been watching you for a few moments. You had been staring out through the window for the past few minutes and his voice almost made you jump. “Is everything okay?”
“Yep. Just… admiring the weather,” you pointed outside, the clouds rumbling with comical timing.
“Brilliant weather, innit?” Seonghwa chuckled. “Can you join us for our meeting?”
“Of course,” you answered, beginning to wrap up the files on the table. “I’ll join you in a few moments.”
When you entered the boss’ room, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were already in the middle of a discussion seated across from each other on the sofas. You took a seat next to Seonghwa.
“We have a business contender regarding our drug approval,” Seonghwa began. “The one that we almost signed with Secretary Park.”
“Oh, that’s… great news?” You looked between them, unsure if it was good news since you had little to no knowledge about the drug they intended to get approved. It was still a secret known only amongst the bosses and a selected few employees.. “Who is it?”
“Madame Tiffany Hwang– she is a respectable business figure in Wonderland. Have you heard about her?” Hongjoong asked.
“She’s the owner of quite a few businesses,” you recalled, having seen the face in the newspaper of Wonderland quite a lot during your time there. “I don’t really remember which ones but her most notable endeavour has to be SNSD, the tech company. She’s the CEO, I believe?”
“That’s right,” Hongjoong passed you a file which contained information on Madame Tiffany’s business and a little background check. She was a Wonderland citizen who was going to be visiting Eden to expand her business and possibly do a collaboration with a tech company here. “She visited Edenary a few months ago. We acquainted ourselves and she showed interest in investing in other businesses. I think she’ll take up our offer.”
“Why?” You wondered out loud. “From what I know, she’s a very well-established figure in the business world. What would she be gaining from investing in your pharmaceutical business?”
“The upper hand,” Hongjoong smirked and you looked at Seonghwa who nodded. “The drug we aim to launch is one already known amongst the elite class of the continent– we’re talking Halaland, Wonderland and Utopia among other countries. I suppose she’ll be gaining power, at the very least.”
“Can you tell me more about this drug?” You asked.
Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa and the underboss nodded, leaning forwards and speaking in a low volume. “That drug… It's called silver light. We discovered its existence during the war when one of our soldiers came across a batch accidentally. We started using it as a numbing drug during medical emergencies– it seemed to work better than the painkillers we had in reserve so we kept it for the extreme cases.”
“After the war ended,” Hongjoong added, “I did a little digging in. I found out that the batch we used up was meant for the highest ranking military. They rarely fought at the scene so I wondered why they would need such a drug, but then I realised it wasn’t a medicine– not yet. It was just a drug that was consumed for pleasure.”
“So while people laid their lives for this land,” Seonghwa sighed deeply in conclusion, “the elites kept such a medically beneficial drug for entertainment purposes.”
“Oh my god,” you were thoroughly surprised at their revelation. “That’s… ridiculous. I served as a medical assistant for about two years in the war but I never heard of such a drug.”
“No one in Eden is aware of its existence save for the elites who consume this drug for pleasure,” Hongjoong told you. “It’s an opioid based drug so it is banned not only in Eden but the entire continent. The only way we get our hands on this drug is through underground channels. You bet that once we make it public that we’re trying to launch it into the market for medical purposes, the elites will do anything to stop us.”
“Does anyone else know about this yet? Secretary Park?” You asked.
“No, but he must suspect something considering that he’s from Edenary and is himself a pharmaceutical company owner,” Seonghwa answered. “It would be strange if he’s aware of its existence and hasn’t tried to launch it or, well, use it in one way or another.”
You nodded slowly. “Are you sure Madame Tiffany will be the right person for the deal?”
“That’s why you’re here,” Hongjoong resigned back, crossing his legs, a faint smirk on his lips. “We’ll be the judge of that, and if you have any connections in Wonderland who could do you a favour and conduct another background check on her… that would be much appreciated.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” you confirmed. You were familiar with your aunt’s gang and could probably ring them for this.
“We’re short on time though. Madame Tiffany is arriving in Edenary in a week. Her schedule is going to be packed so we can’t say if she’ll visit Sector 1. We should be prepared to make a visit to Edenary, and if it looks like she’s the right investor, we will prepare to make arrangements and receive her here.”
You made an impressed face at Seonghwa. “Looks like you’re getting busier soon.”
“We are getting busy,” Seonghwa smiled deviously. “What do you think about joining us on our visit to Edenary?”
“Me? Edenary?” You gaped at him. The air in the room suddenly felt too cold despite the nervous sweats now oozing out of your body. “But…”
“I think it’s about time you stopped hiding in the shadows,” Hongjoong said, clasping his hands together. “Secretary Park will be there, as well as a lot of politicians and business people. You might recognise most of them, and from what I know, a lot of people might recognise you too.”
“Secretary Park,” you muttered. “Are you sure about this?”
“I think it’s a good opportunity to let him know that you’re no longer afraid of him,” Seonghwa mused.
“And an even better opportunity to find out who really wants to get me,” you said, referring to the information you learned from Yeosang and the men exchanged glances. “I’m aware. It has to be someone from Edenary since they only took action after I got involved with your company. If it was a local, they had plenty of opportunities to get rid of me.”
“Right…” Hongjoong shrugged in acceptance. “So? Are you willing to accompany us as our secretary? Are you willing to announce to the world that you are a part of our inner circle? Because your visit to Edenary will be changing a lot of things, Luna.”
You straightened, feeling a surge of confidence boost through you. If the bosses of the Crescents were willing to trust you, you were not going to let them down. “It’s a good opportunity to tie up loose ends,” you said. “I need to have a talk with my father. It’s long overdue.”
“Perfect,” Hongjoong clapped. “We leave in two days. Wipe that grim look off your face, Luna. Show them what you’re made of.”
It felt surreal to enter the capital of Eden through the Sector 1 gate, the diamond-shaped carvings on the gates bisecting as the metal frame opened with a loud creak, true to its old age. The eight gates around Edenary that opened to the eight sectors– or rather, enclosed the capital of Eden within its confines– were as old as Eden itself. Each gate was colossal and identical in its built but with a unique carving on it that was representative of its sector.
Since Sector 1 was known for Maddox and Co., the famous luxury jewellery shop that was established by the royals of Eden who were big fans of diamonds, the gate had diamond shaped carvings on it to honour the memory of the shop’s origin. It truly was a magnificent sight and it was your first time seeing the gate so you couldn’t help but peek through the window as you crossed the invisible line that indicated your entry into the capital.
It was just as fascinating to enter Edenary as an outsider from Sector 1, of all the sectors. Any person belonging to the upper class usually resided in Sector 2 if not in Edenary. Sector 2, situated in the western region of Eden, was home to the monarchy once and had the Royal Palace in its heart. The Royal Palace was now a government office, sort of an unofficial parliament house after the monarchy was abolished. Sector 2 could have been your home if your life had taken a different course of events.
If the other passengers in the car noticed your enthusiasm, they didn’t comment on it. Seonghwa, however, could not hold back the light chuckle when you turned in your seat to watch the gates close from the rear window. The leather seats of Hongjoong’s Bentley car suddenly felt too hot– or perhaps, it was the embarrassment seeping into the seats through your body.
“What?” You retorted, your lips curling into a pout in embarrassment as you tried to match the gaze of the underboss who was seated on your left, clad in a classic tweed suit. “It’s my first time seeing the Sector 1 gate.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Seonghwa raised his hands in surrender, an amused smile plastered on his face. Hongjoong, who was seated in the front, spared you both a glance from his half-nap and let out his signature scoff.
“Seonghwa had a worse reaction when we first saw the gate. He’s probably reminiscing, let him be,” the boss said and Taeyong, the boss’ bodyguard and designated driver of sorts, laughed in agreement.
“He wanted to take a moment to admire, which meant the moment could last half an hour, so I had to physically restrain him,” Taeyong recalled. “He was salty with me for two whole days.”
“I wasn’t,” Seonghwa muttered and you were once again surprised by the almost childish banter that ensued. It really was a rare sight to have the boss and the underboss of the Crescent Company quibbling, and even better that their crew members like Taeyong were on almost casual terms with the Crescents. You were suddenly reminded of Jaemin, the young informant who everyone at the office adored.
The Crescents truly were different and so human, and you wished they did more to mend their reputation.
You resorted to watching out of the window while the men chatted. The bare deciduous trees that bordered the highway started to thin as you drew closer to the heart of the capital, revealing more familiar sights of civilization– farmhouses, shops, and warehouses. Before you knew it, you were in the middle of the town where most of the offices and government buildings were located and where the elites of Eden resided.
You quietly let the dreary, almost lifeless colours of Edenary imprint on your eyes, making silent notes of what changed since the past few years that you stepped in Edenary, which was not much. Just less nature and more artificial spaces. The people sauntering in the streets still looked as pompous as ever, dressed to the max, too absorbed in the newspaper in their hand or occupied with the pet they were walking.
“The Eden Dome,” Hongjoong’s caught your attention, prompting you to tilt your head to look at the building through the front– the magnificent presidential office with a washed out cerulean blue dome in the middle. The dome along with the accents of gold on the building seemed to be the only colour in Edenary.
Or at least, that’s what it felt like to you. The Eden Dome was President Lee’s office. Your father’s workplace.
The road curved around the domed building and opened to Eden Square, a large fountain in the middle marking the heart of the capital. You steered towards the left to the residential area where you would be staying in an apartment owned by Hongjoong. One of his crew members, Jaehyun, was a resident there along with a young guard who went by the name ‘Ten’. They were supposedly in charge of handling the Crescents’ Edenary affairs (and spying).
As the car came to a halt in front of one of the many apartment buildings, you could almost see yourself as Park y/n, the daughter of a businessman running an errand for her father, scrambling through the streets with documents in her hands, the hat on her head threatening to fall off with the wind. You were almost back to being the twenty-one year old who did anything and everything to earn at least one phrase of acknowledgment from her father.
Oh, how you wished your father would look past your birth status and see that you, too, were capable of great things. Things that even his son wasn’t capable of. He could have given you one chance, and everything would have been different–
“Luna?”
It was your boss’ voice that reminded you that you were no longer related to Secretary Park. That you were almost his rival now. Seven years wasn’t a short amount of time and things would never go back to what they were before.
You shivered involuntarily and nodded to let the boss know that you were okay before grabbing your things and following the men inside the building.
Somehow, your heart raced with anticipation– not to meet perhaps the most famous businesswoman in the continent, or to finally be a part of the Edenary crowd, but to see the unfiltered rage behind your father’s eyes when he would see you standing with the leaders of the most extensive underground organisation of Eden.
You missed Yunho.
Or rather, his warning about the Edenary crowd echoed in your head. You once mentioned to him that you kind of missed the feeling of being an Edenary citizen and how you always wanted to attend one of the business parties that your father was always talking about. He had initially found it amusing and you wondered why, but his words were starting to make sense now. He was right to believe that the Edenary crowd was overwhelming and that they watched every move you made as if they were vultures, waiting for a chance to grab a bite.
It was suffocating, and you almost wished you were back at the office or having late night snacks with your roommate Wendy.
It was ultimately Seonghwa’s presence in the room, constant and reassuring, that calmed you. He would catch your eye and exchange a subtle nod, or smile in a way that was only meant for your eyes. Whenever he would pass by you, he would pat your cheek or squeeze your shoulder, silently praising you for your performance here. After all, everyone in the building tonight was a performer, masking their schemes and presenting a carefully crafted facade.
While Seonghwa’s presence in your peripheral vision calmed you, it was Hongjoong who kept you grounded and focused. You were Hongjoong’s partner tonight. Before your arrival here when you were getting ready for the event, Hongjoong had knocked on your door and entered with a satisfied smile when he found you standing straight and proud in front of the mirror, practising your posture.
“I was half-sure you’d be moping in a corner but Seonghwa was right. You look lovely.”
You consciously tugged at the silk fabric of your black dress, thanking him and looking back at your reflection. You decided that you did not have to be from Edenary to look like you belonged here– Hongjoong was proof of that. Dressed in a fancy black suit with a sequined jacket, he looked nothing short of elegant. As he stood behind you, looking at your form in the mirror, you wondered if your outfits were matching on purpose– not just you and Hongjoong, but Seonghwa as well, in his own black sequined suit. Your elbow-length gloves matched them perfectly. Even though it might be a calculative move, it felt intimate.
“I have another something for you,” Hongjoong started and you turned to him, giving him a warning look which he ignored.
“I can afford my own dresses and jewellery, Sir,” you told him, already having argued about how the ‘company’ paid for your dress tonight, but he only continued to wave the small package in his hand and you reluctantly took it, opening the box inside to find a pearl necklace.
“Kim Hongjoong,” you called his full name for the first time out loud, making him chuckle deeply. “Tell me you rented this.”
“I got it for you,” he corrected.
“But… it’s Maddox and Co.,” you almost cried, knowing how valuable it must have been. “You can’t keep giving me things like this.”
“And who says I can’t?” He raised a brow. “I always get something for the boys. I can get things for you too.”
When you only responded with another glare, he let out a dismissive huff and proceeded to pick the necklace from the box, beckoning you to turn. Hesitantly, you did and swept your curls up so he could put the necklace on for you. When he was done fastening it, he placed his hands on your shoulders, admiring how the pearl sat between your collarbones.
You could not complain– it was absolutely magnificent.
“It matches your ring,” he said with a wicked grin and you scoffed in disbelief. He got you that necklace not only to match with your ring, but to let Secretary Park know that the ring wasn’t the only valuable thing in your possession anymore. Somehow, that did nothing to ease your nerves, though when Hongjoong squeezed your bare shoulders, you smiled in acceptance. You could wear this tonight.
“Remember to stand tall just like this,” Hongjoong said before letting go. “And stay by my side. You’re not a bookkeeper or a secretary tonight– or even anymore. You’re just Luna of The Crescent Company, got it? You’ll make a name for yourself tonight.”
“I don’t understand why you’re allowing me to,” you told him. It was the simple truth, a question that nagged you time and time again.
“Because darling,” Hongjoong stepped closer, almost whispering in your ear now, maintaining eye contact through the mirror. “You’re my weapon now. I’ll proudly wield you. Just like I am your shield and you’ll use me when you need protection.”
A weapon and a shield. What a pair you made. And oh, he acted like your shield alright. While introducing you to the guests at the party, he didn’t let anyone question your position in the company or your status. You were just Luna of The Crescent Company– someone important enough to have made it here. They could wonder all they want.
“Here he comes,” Hongjoong leaned forward to whisper in your ear while you were sipping on your drink, distracted by the familiar faces in the crowd, though hardly anyone recognised you.
You were at Mr. Jang’s residence, the co-owner of Eden News. He was a pretty influential person in Eden and it was always an advantage to be in his good graces. Hongjoong’s announcement made you think that he meant the host himself was here.
Except when you turned and followed the direction of his gaze, you frowned in confusion as you tried to locate the host but instead, found someone else entirely.
Secretary Park Byung Eun. Your father.
He seemed to be just as startled to see you, his gaze briefly sliding past before his attention snapped back. HIs face fell pale when he realised that your partner tonight was none other than Kim Hongjoong of The Crescent Company.
He, of course, pretended to be unfazed as he approached you, pretending as if he intended to greet Hongjoong. He could not act as if he hadn’t seen the pair of you now. Hongjoong rested his hand on your back, lightly caressing it in both reassurance and warning and you took a deep breath, the pearls around your neck suddenly feeling heavier than the fur scarf that was draped on your shoulders.
“Colonel Kim,” Secretary Park’s voice almost echoed inside your head. “Been a while.”
It had been a long time since you heard the man’s voice. You physically restrained yourself from reacting, though your resolve was starting to crumble.
“It has,” Hongjoong’s grin was giving him away. “I see you’ve met Seonghwa?”
“Always a gentleman,” your father nodded, not meeting your eyes. Even though you were right in front of him, he was pretending he could not see you.
It had always been like this. He still looked the same– clean shaven face, droopy lids and wavy hair. Perhaps, he looked a little older than the last time you saw him which was about three years ago, but he was still the same man and it irked you so much–
“Meet Luna,” Hongjoong said and your father finally met your eyes. “My partner.”
You looked at Hongjoong in surprise– partner? Perhaps, your father was just as shocked, the frown deepening on his face as he tried to grasp what Hongjoong meant by the term ‘partner’.
Hongjoong only smiled casually, his hand moving to rest on the side of your waist and your father made an impressed face.
“Partner… I see,” he looked at you, scanning your face. “Didn’t realise you were interested in business… Luna.”
A warning. Hongjoong must have sensed that, because he answered for you. “Sometimes, we don’t see what’s right in front of our eyes, isn’t that right, Mr. Park?”
When Secretary Park raised a brow, Hongjoong looked down with a laugh. “I mean… she was right in front of me for a while. It just took me a long time to figure out how valuable a partner she makes.”
“Right,” Secretary Park sighed in resignation. “But sometimes, we think too highly of someone. Sometimes, we even think too highly of ourselves, eh?”
It was the same phrase you’d heard so many times. Yet… hearing it now felt like as much of a stab as it did when you were younger.
“You must think very highly of me then,” you scoffed, unable to hold back the distaste in your tone. “I trust you got a message, recently?”
The message was the warning that Yunho had sent through his men to Secretary Park. He was not to mess with you or any of them again. Truly, your father must think highly of you if he wanted to eliminate you, right?
“Received,” he said with a fake smile before shifting his attention to the boss. “So, Colonel Kim. Who do you plan to use as bait tonight? A certain major general turned assemblyman has been sniffing in places he shouldn’t be. I trust you’ve got nothing to do with it?”
Hongjoong raised his hands in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t know anything. I tend to keep away from politics as much as I can,” he smoothly lied– he was both behind it and a bit too interested in politics recently. “I can look into it for you? If that’s what you’d like?”
“No need,” he raised his glass in toast. “Thank you very much.”
“Ah,” you huffed. “Must be something you want to keep under the covers.”
“Wouldn't you know all about that,” he narrowed his eyes. You only tightened your smile in response.
“We’re only here to get acquainted with Madame Tiffany, just like everyone else,” Hongjoong interrupted, breaking the war of glares.
“Oh, so that’s who your new business partner is going to be?” Secretary Park asked.
“If we’re lucky to make a deal, sure,” Hongjoong shrugged. “As a businessman yourself, you must know that it’s a trial and error process of meeting potential partners. It’s a shame our deal fell through.”
“Truly,” Secretary Park scoffed. “Madame Tiffany, huh? I really hope you shake hands with her then.”
While the smirk he passed you went unnoticed by Hongjoong, you recognised that expression very well. This certain curl of his lips indicated that he knew more than he let on– that he was winning and you were going to meet defeat in the worst way. You felt the hair on the back of your neck rise in warning, especially when he himself offered to introduce you both to Madame Tiffany.
You reluctantly followed the boss, Seonghwa joining you on your way to the main hall and asking if you were alright. You shrugged it off because now was not the time, though you wish you could warn the bosses that something was amiss.
You spotted Madame Tiffany, in all her glory, in the middle of the room with all eyes on her even though she was deep in a conversation with someone. Everyone seemed to be waiting to catch her attention, and truly, she looked every bit like the rumours you had heard– beautiful in her pale pink dress, elegant and strong in the way she carried herself with her confident smile and straight shoulder, naturally exuding a subtle air of power.
But you could not get the look in your father’s eyes out of your head. You had requested a background check on Madame Tiffany through Madame Cha, your aunt. As a Wonderland local, she must know if Madame Tiffany was all that she appeared to be. If there really wasn’t anything more to her and she was just a businesswoman looking to expand her empire, that would be ideal.
Secretary Park offered to introduce Hongjoong to Madame Tiffany, which was an unusual move from him. You may not have been to any of the business parties in Edenary when you lived here but you knew that your father was the type of person who would never help another person if they benefited from something. Everything that he did was meaningful and ultimately resulted in the downfall of whoever crossed his path. You often wondered why President Lee kept such a man as his secretary– perhaps, because he needed someone like him as his shield?
And then you were reminded of Hongjoong’s words. You were his weapon, and he was your shield, but you supposed that sometimes, a weapon was used to protect oneself too, just like a shield was used to strike at times.
“Mr. Kim,” Madame Tiffany shook hands with your boss. “I’m glad to have finally met you. I’ve heard so much about your business.”
Hongjoong seemed pleased. “All good things, I hope.”
“Wonderful things,” she smiled. “Especially about your contribution to Eden after the war. It’s truly remarkable.”
“Well, I look forward to our scheduled meeting tomorrow then,” Hongjoong placed a hand on his chest and bowed. “Perhaps, we’ll be able to contribute more to Eden’s wellbeing.”
“It would be an honour,” Madam Tiffany mimicked his greeting and Hongjoong spotted an acquaintance, saying he would be back in a few minutes. As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Seonghwa who was watching you carefully.
“What do you think about Madame Tiffany?”
“Seems like you’ve got something on your mind,” Seonghwa said in a low voice, shaking his head. “Not here, though. We’ll talk when we get back.”
You nodded, noticing your father at the end of the hall, beckoning you to join him in an empty room that seemed to be a study. You looked at Seonghwa. “Can I go talk to my father?”
“Of course, love. Are you sure?” He asked, tucking a curl behind your ear. “If you want me to come with you, I can. Or if you don’t want to talk to him, I can let him know–”
“No, I… I should talk. It’s been a while, and there’s a lot I haven’t said to him,” you let out a short, sad laugh. “Not the best time for confrontation but I think he’s up to something. I should do this.”
“You don’t have to,” Seonghwa insisted, holding your hand. “But if you wish to, I won’t stop you.”
You squeezed his hand to let him know that you would be okay. Taking a deep breath, you moved towards the room and went inside, keeping the door ajar just in case.
“Luna, is it now?” Secretary Park asked almost nonchalantly as he circled around the desk in the room before taking a seat.
“Yeah, but you would know all about that, wouldn’t you? Considering how you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“Come on,” he scoffed, sparing you a glance. “Can’t a father check on his daughter every now and then?”
“Sure,” you folded your arms and narrowed your eyes. “If by check, you mean almost killing me and the people around me, sure.”
“Well, I did order you to keep a low profile,” he reminded you. His tone was no longer playful. “But look at you. Couldn’t stay away from the spotlight in Edenary, could you?”
“You ordered me to keep a low profile and then disowned me, in case you forgot. Cut my name off from the family register and all, right? What makes you think you have any control over my life anymore?”
“You’ve always been feisty like that, y/n,” he clicked his tongue. “It could cost you a lot– but it looks like I won’t have to pull any strings now. You will bring the downfall of the company and the gangsters you love so much now.”
“If they’re gangsters, what does that make you?” You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t tell me your hands are any less dirtier than theirs.”
“Y/n,” he called in warning but you shook your head.
“Don’t ever come after me or mine again,” your voice shook as you warned him, the years of anger starting to make their way up to your throat from your gut. “Unless you want to start a war that you can never win.”
Secretary Park scoffed loudly but it soon turned into a fit of mocking laughter and you watched him clutch his stomach as he bent over, wiping his eyes.
“My dear, I wish I could tell you just what you have gotten yourself into,” he sighed, shaking his head in amusement. “But figures. You’ll be finding out soon anyway. You should have never stepped foot where you do not belong.”
Infuriated, you left the room and went straight to the table to down a drink which did nothing to calm the rage coursing through your veins. There was too much going on and you felt the urge to let it all out in the form of a scream or something worse–
“Luna,” Seonghwa’s voice sounded behind you but you didn’t turn, clutching at your glass dangerously hard. He placed a hand on your arm almost cautiously, caressing the bare skin. “Are you okay?”
“Just give me a moment,” you sniffed, looking up and willing the tears to go back inside. “I’ll be fine.”
“We’re leaving soon,” he squeezed your arm but you gently pushed his hand away before you turned to look at him. You saw a hint of hurt in his eyes and you wished you could tell him that you were only pushing him away because you were afraid you would break if he looked at you or touched you with such care.
“I’ll go sit in the car– Taeyong’s outside, right?” You asked and Seonghwa nodded, escorting you outside and waiting until he spotted Taeyong. You shut yourself inside the car and took deep breaths, hoping that by the time you would be back and having a meeting to discuss how to move forward, you would be okay.
But you were very obviously far from okay. The car ride was awfully silent and Hongjoong seemed to have an inkling of your meeting with your father which was why he did not initiate a conversation. When you were back at the empty apartment, the three of you settled in the living room and Hongjoong lit his pipe.
“Any luck with the assemblymen, Seonghwa?”
“Since the elections are near, they’re being cautious,” Seonghwa loosened his tie as he spoke. “But I did get an idea of the political tide. It’s still in President Lee’s favour and there's a high chance he would be re-elected unless a scandal breaks out. But then… his image is too clean. I met General Wi as well. He said something about how he’s losing votes because of the Siren Rebel Party. He’s almost sure one of the rival politicians might be funding them so he can be out of the game– he is the second in lead right now.”
“Yeah, General Wi is desperate now. I’d honestly like to see some change too– President Lee should retire before someone digs up something about him and tarnish his image,” Hongjoong said, taking a long smoke and looking at you. “What do you think, Luna?”
“About?”
“Everything,” he put his pipe away. “What do you have to say about tonight? Do you think Madame Tiffany will make a good business partner?”
“I’m not sure, just like you,” you began and he nodded. “But… it was strange how Secretary Park reacted. He’s never the type of person to be a middleman in a potential deal, yet he was so willing to introduce the two of you. Madame Tiffany and him seem to be acquainted already– which, okay, they’re both business owners. But when I was talking to him in person,” you looked at Seonghwa who urged you to continue. “He said something about how I’ll soon be finding out what I have gotten myself into, and that… I would bring the downfall of the Crescents? I’m not quite sure if he was just saying this to rile me up or if he meant it.”
“Hmm… sounds like empty threats to me.”
“They’re not,” you shook your head. “He always means what he says. And I would like to warn you that when we meet Madame Tiffany tomorrow, keep in mind that they may be acquainted in more ways than they let on. If Madame Tiffany is in cahoots with Secretary Park… that could be the downfall he was talking about.”
“I have a feeling he said all of that just so you could try and stop me from making the deal with Tiffany,” Hongjoong said. Seonghwa hummed in agreement. He could not deny that Hongjoong’s logic made sense too. “We have to entertain this possibility too. We’ve done our background check and everything seems okay, which is why we’re here in the first place.”
“Well, I still haven’t heard from Madame Cha, which means she’s looking into it,” you said determinedly. “She’s got connections with the underground channels in Wonderland and will be able to confirm if Madame Tiffany is good news or not.”
“We might not hear back from your aunt though,” Hongjoong shrugged.
“We will,” you insisted. “And if you rush, you might be doing exactly what Secretary Park wants you to do.”
“Well, you know what I think?” Hongjoong scoffed, leaning forward. “I think you’re letting your emotions regarding your father influence your judgement.”
“We must consider every possibility,” you said through gritted teeth, the emotions you had tried so hard to suppress making their way right back. “And Madame Tiffany is here for a few weeks. We can wait it out before we shake hands with her.”
“And miss a golden opportunity?” Hongjoong tsk-ed.
“Remember that you missed your ‘golden opportunity’ when I warned you about Secretary Park,” you said and Seonghwa cleared his throat, wanting to calm the tension in the room but you and Hongjoong ignored it. “It could have cost you everything.”
“Luna, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but we are an old criminal organisation and we do not need to rely on your imposing opinions to save ourselves. We have other means,” Hongjoong reminded you and you settled back in resignation. “I will consider your words, but the decision is ultimately mine.”
Seonghwa grunted in warning but the damage had been done.
“Right,” you bit your lips, your vision getting blurry. “For a second, you sounded exactly like the person I’ve been running away from. All that talk about being your partner but that’s what my opinions are to you? Imposing?”
Hongjoong realised that he had said too much that he didn’t really mean, or that he should have worded it differently. The vulnerability in your eyes made his stomach curl with regret. He glanced at Seonghwa who looked like he wanted to get up and comfort you but before he could do anything, you muttered that you were retiring for the night and went to your room.
Seonghwa sighed, looking at his partner. “Well done. Impressive way to handle the situation, Joong.”
“But you regret it,” Seonghwa was smiling. Hongjoong spared him a glance. “Bad timing. She wasn’t alright after the meeting with her father, I told you.”
“Both sides of the coin, Hwa,” Hongjoong said. “Mine and hers. It’s going to be your decision– I can’t deal with her right now.”
“Yeah, you’re smitten,” Seonghwa laughed. “And you don’t know what to do about it for once. You always make a fool out of yourself when you’re like this.”
Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa angrily but when Seonghwa walked to him and caressed his hand, he calmed down. Hongjoong sighed deeply.
“Has my heart hardened far too much for my own good?”
Seonghwa only shook his head. “I know why this deal means so much to you. But she’s right– we have to be cautious and consider every factor. With this Strictland business, we’re realising that even we do not fully know what’s happening in the underworld, right?”
“She’s a part of the Crescents now,” Hongjoong said. “I’m trying to hone her critical thinking skills. She needs that in order to survive– especially where it concerns Secretary Park.”
“He’s still her only family,” Seonghwa reminded him. “Let’s cut her some slack. I’ll go talk to her, okay?”
When you heard the familiar soft knocks on your door, you wished you had locked the room– you were in no state to be seen, crouching in a corner with tears running down your eyes and your gloves and scarf sprawled on the floor near you. You did not respond to the knocks.
“Luna? Can you please open the door for me?”
You sniffed and took a deep breath. “I’m fine. It’s okay.”
“Please?” He said. “I won’t leave until you do.”
“Lord, give me strength,” you muttered under your breath. “Come in.”
Seonghwa hesitantly opened the door, looking around and finding you in the corner next to the vanity, wiping your eyes. “Good heavens, Luna.”
“I told you I was fine,” you said, laughing at your own comment and he chuckled as he settled down on his knees in front of you. You hid your face in your hands, a fresh stream of tears running down your face. “I’m not crying because of the boss.”
“You can curse at him if you want. It can be our little secret,” Seonghwa said and you shook your head. “Also, you can call him Hongjoong. You don’t always have to address him so formally.”
“Okay, Mr. Park.”
“Seonghwa for you,” he tsk-ed. “Look at me. Come on, talk to me. What happened earlier?”
“I don’t know,” you wiped your eyes, looking at your hands and sighing– your mascara must be smudged everywhere on your face. “I didn’t expect it to be so… anticlimactic, the meeting with my father. All he had to offer was threats and warnings. I don’t understand how he can be so cruel towards me.”
“Was there something else you were expecting from him?” Seonghwa asked softly, caressing your hand.
“Not really, but… at least a ‘good to see you’re well’? But then, he wants me dead so maybe I’ve been stupid to expect that.”
“Oh, dear,” Seonghwa pulled you closer, prompting you to settle on your knees instead of keeping them upright as a barrier between you two. “Tell me you said something he deserved to hear.”
“I did,” you sniffed. “I told him not to come after me or mine ever again unless he wants to start a war he can never win.”
A smirk creeped up the underboss’ lips, sending a stirring of nerves in your stomach. “Me or mine, huh?”
“I had to say something–”
“You did well,” Seonghwa said, cupping your face and wiping your eyes, nodding in acknowledgement. “You did so well, love. And I’m glad you stayed strong. You don’t ever have to break in front of your father anymore. You can break in front of me, in front of any of us but– never him.”
You looked at Seonghwa, truly looked at him. His eyes glinted with a million unsaid things, but even in the dim light of the lamp, you could tell that they held admiration and something like pride. Something you always wished to see in someone’s eyes when they looked at you.
“Why do you cry, love?” He asked, wiping the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks. You didn’t even realise that you were crying silently now.
“I don’t know,” you told him. “Seonghwa– can I really break in front of you?”
Something unreadable flickered across Seonghwa’s face. “You can. With me, or Hongjoong, or any of us, you can be yourself. We’re here– I’m here for you. You never have to feel alone again.”
You tightened your lips, stifling a sob. Seonghwa only smiled, scooting closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. You let out a shaky breath and then went still as he kissed your cheek.
“Won’t you look at me?”
The deep timbre of his voice sounded inside your skull. You kept your eyes shut and he wiped the remnants of the tears away from your lashes before kissing both your eyelids, his soft lips like feathers of an angel's wing shielding you from everything that hurt you. Your hands tangled in his shirt as he continued to pepper light kisses all over your face, the sound of his breath making your heart flutter uncontrollably. However, he stopped right when he kissed near your mouth, his hands almost shaking as he cradled your jaw and pulled back to gauge your reaction.
“Look at me.”
“I’m scared,” you opened your eyes and your gaze stuck on his plump lips. “I don’t understand why you all want me. I don’t understand why we’re here, like this.”
He only smiled in answer. “Is it too much?”
“That’s the thing,” you scoffed in disbelief. “I don’t think it is.”
Seonghwa sucked in a breath, his grip on your neck tightening just a fraction though you spotted hesitation in his eyes. Before you knew it, you were leaning forwards– or perhaps, he was the one who closed the distance between your lips, instantly leaning into you with a force that had you resigning back against the wall. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair– god, he was a good kisser and he wasn’t letting you breathe for one second.
He broke apart for breath, only to tilt his face and kiss you at a different angle and you moaned into the kiss, unintentionally tugging at the length of his hair that made him bite your lower lip. You couldn’t help but think of the way Yunho had kissed you the last time in the office just as desperately, if not more. Yet with Seonghwa, it felt so different, especially the way he held your face and sucked at your lower lip.
With a peck to his lips, you drew away, almost sobbing again at the way he looked like he needed to kiss you again– he met your eyes, conveying that and you let him kiss you softly.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered and he shook his head.
“What for?”
“I don’t know,” you sighed and pursed your lips. “I need to figure out my feelings, Seonghwa. I can’t go around kissing any one of you.”
Seonghwa chuckled. “But you can–”
You shook your head adamantly though his permission made your head spin. “Give me some time.”
Seonghwa exhaled, nodding. “Alright. I can do that.”
A moment passed where the two of you simply stared at each other’s eyes, trying to navigate through the storm of emotions clouding them. You were so close that you could hear his soft breaths and the warmth emanating from his body felt welcoming, almost compelling you to come closer.
“Do you want me?” You asked in a soft whisper and he almost choked on his own breath.
“You can’t just ask that all of a sudden,” he gave you a pained smile. “Are you ready to hear the answer?”
Oh, they were messing with you for sure. There was no way Yeosang and Yunho also had the same thing to say. “There’s no bet going around, is there?”
“We would never do that,” his assertive tone was an answer enough. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Luna, but we… we’re a really tightly-knit group. We value relationships. And you’re a part of our group now, yeah? We don’t want to do anything to jeopardise our relationship with you.”
“And this…” you looked at the small distance between you two. “This won’t jeopardise it?”
“It’s not that complicated, if you’re willing to hear us out,” Seonghwa settled back, playing with the hem of your dress. “We’re just… one. We’re a single unit, if you will. We’ve been through a lot together, and we continue to walk together. You can be a part of that, or you can just continue being our little secretary,” he chuckled and you laughed lightly. “It’s up to you.”
“I’ll… I’m thinking about it, I really am, but most of all, I’m just preparing myself to hear it from one of you,” you admitted and he suddenly looked hopeful. “But you– the boys, all of you. You’re close in more ways than you show it. Am I right?”
He smiled in answer. “Is it obvious?”
“It really isn’t,” you frowned through your smile, wondering if he was admitting it. “Seonghwa… this won’t change us, will it? This won’t doom us, right?”
“It won’t,” he assured you. “And we won’t let it. It can be your salvation if you want it to be, or your doom if you let it be.”
“Geez, thanks for that,” you said.
Your teasing and laughter grew louder, filling the space in the living room where Hongjoong was still present. He gulped down the last of his drink and set the glass on the table with a smile he would never let anyone see.
next chapter
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❤️🔥 Summary: Hectic nights at work is nothing out of the ordinary for you, but when a man is wheeled into the Intensive Care Unit with second degree burns all over his body and in the need of immediate medical attention, your life takes a turn as his body heals on his own by the mere presence of you. Shocked by the discovery, you stay by his side as he recovers and together you come to terms with your unexpected connection.
❤️🔥 Pairing(s): Firefighter!San x Emergency physician!Reader
❤️🔥 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, best friend's brother, oldest daughter and youngest son, slice of life, fluff
❤️🔥 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), brief description of burn injuries, medical setting, san is living up to his romance-cat title, pet names (darling, my love, love, honey), MC is a Jeong, a lot of physical intimacy, kisses gallore, san is down bad for the MC, brief description of motorcycle accident and fractured bones (not explicit), the fear of losing loved ones, emotional exhaustion, a few swear words, not beta read!
❤️🔥 Wordcount: 7.5K
❤️🔥 Author's Note: Click the image for a better resolution (Tumblr I hate you). Wihooo! And there goes the second to last instalment of the March Event ;-; im lowkey sad it's ending soon although it gives me more time to work on other stuff!! anyhow, this one was really fun to write and I hope you'll enjoy it, be prepared for a lot of love sick sannie 🥹 Btw I'm not a nurse/doctor or have any "proper" knowledge regarding how things go down in the E.R or hospital for that matter either, so this is all based on excessive research. Thank you for your understanding!
This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is rated SFW, however it contains mature scenes such as descriptions of serious injuries, medical procedures as well as adult language. Minors, please, read at your own risk and refrain from interacting or following my blog!
AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Event taglist
It was an exceptionally calm hour in Seoul National University Hospital. Most nights were bustling with life, whether it’d be residential patients abusing the call button, relatives refusing to leave after visiting hours were over or an incoming emergency putting the whole hospital in a fit. But not tonight. The clock hanging on the wall opposite of the nurse’s station in the emergency department recently struck midnight. You slumped down by your desk as Haneul, your roommate, best friend and fellow colleague, dragged her legs behind her and nearly toppled over her seat. You finished off the last rounds of checking in on the inpatients on your floor, yet your social batteries were already drained and the nightshift had just started.
Haneul blew a raspberry before her head dropped onto the desk with a soft thud. She groaned and threw herself back on the chair, her arms extended and legs elevated. Her slip-on shoes barely hung onto her feet and she wasn’t faring any better.
“I’m so tired,” she complained and went limp in her seat. “I can’t wait to clock out and return to my boyfriend.”
You let out an amused huff, the pencil twirling in your fingers coming to a stop as you caught it mid air. “You mean your bed?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Ha-ha, really funny Haneul.”
“It’s a bit funny, admit it!”
You rolled your eyes at her, but couldn’t fight off the smile that spread across your face. It was never a dull moment when in Haneul’s company. You were certain that even if death were around the corner, she’d still find a way to make the situation feel light. That was probably why you two had hit it off at university. She was mostly, if not always, in a cheerful mood, while you walked around with a dark cloud over your head. Had it not been for Haneul approaching you solely because your shirt was similar to one of her favorite character’s outfits in a drama, you probably would never have become friends. A decade later and you were tighter than two peas in a pod, and even decided — after your first semester — to move into a flat together which was still your current home.
“Whatever… I can’t complain as it’s at least a quiet night.”
The unspoken rule of never mentioning the obvious flashed before your eyes and you cowered from the blazing look Haneul shot your way. The air was caught in your throats and neither dared to move an inch from your places. You slowly turned your head sideways, waiting for a patient to peek their head out or scream that their pillow needed puffing up. As the empty hallway continued staying silent and the motion sensor lights didn’t turn on, you exhaled in relief.
“You got lucky there,” she said and logged into her computer.
As you parted your mouth to answer, a voice broke through from the radio placed on the wall-mounted brackets. A report concerning a handful of people who were hurt in a fire set loose in an apartment came through and everyone ditched their tasks to get ready for the newcomers. You and Haneul, along with other nurses, ran to the trauma bay and occupied a room each where you, hopefully not, would get a patient each. The sound of multiple sirens grew louder the faster the ambulances sped toward the hospital and didn’t stop until the flashes of red and blue colored the building. Despite being employed for two years and counting, you never got accustomed to the ear piercing noise or blinding lights.
“Nurse Kim, could you prepare the wound care kit? Nurse Hwang, bring the respiratory support system. We don’t know what we’re dealing with so we need to expect the worst!”
The commotion from the triage area reached your room as the patients were being rolled into the hospital and underwent the initial assessment of their conditions. The code red patients would fall into your hands and you, together with your team, would do your utmost to lessen their injuries. You put the other glove on and waited by the door of your room. The sight before you was jarring to say the least. The victims of the fire were all in different conditions. Some crying and wincing from the burnmarks while others lay completely still as if the burned skin wasn’t a painful inconvenience. The wonders of falling unconscious. An elderly nurse with a couple of years beneath her belt pushed a stretcher toward you and you hastily moved out of the way.
Nurse Yeon quickly spewed the little information she knew of the unconscious patient, but you couldn’t focus on her words. Your entire attention was given to the man before you. He looked peaceful despite the soot smudged across his face and several burn marks littering the majority of his body. He was also handsome — very handsome. That, you couldn’t deny. His black strands fell over his closed eyes and brows. Most of his features were sharp and defined, red heart-shaped lips in a slight pout, a long nose with a prominent bridge, high cheekbones and a few beauty marks peeking out from beneath the smeared ash. But you knew that, out of everything, his most alluring feature was his eyes — even when closed. You could see the feline-like shape that reminded you of a panther in the wild and you found yourself wondering what color they were. A tingle erupted along the pads of your fingers, almost begging you to move his hair out of the way.
“...He was found unconscious in the building after being caught in the fire. Red category. He has second-degree burns on twenty percent of his body, severe smoke inhalation and is currently in respiratory distress. We’ve initiated oxygen therapy. BP is low and bolus fluids were administered to stabilize circulation. He is unresponsive, likely due to hypoxia.”
Nurse Yeon brought you back to the present and you ignored the highly unprofessional thought. With the help of Nurse Kim, you connected him to a monitoring machine and proceeded with the remaining steps of the protocol drilled into your spine. You administered high-flow oxygen via a non-rebreather mask to address the smoke inhalation and to prevent breathing issues later on.
Facing away from the patient to grab a scalpel in order to cut his already torn shirt, you just about turned your head and called out, “Nurse Kim, give him an IV fluid with saline to prevent shock and maintain blood pressure as well as a light dose of morphine to relieve him of pain. Nurse Hwang, hand me the scalpel, please.”
The nurses wasted no time following your orders. While Nurse Kim stabilized the patient’s blood pressure, you drove the sharp end of the scalpel through the center of his shirt to expose the injured area and assess what else you had to work with. As expected, there were blotches of irritated, red skin all over his upper body. It didn’t look too bad but would scar if left untreated. Your main concern was the smoke inhalation, but the high-flow oxygen proved effective, as the pulse oximeter showed that the oxygen saturation in his blood was slowly improving and you could swiftly move on to treat his wounds.
“Nurse Hwang, hand me the antiseptic soluti–”
A horrified gasp cut you off mid sentence and your head flung to the doorway where a nurse — a trainee at that — stood with her wide eyes and mouth hanging open behind her health mask. The interruption crawled beneath your skin like electricity. You glanced down at her nametag.
“Trainee Park?”
The student didn’t budge nor make a noise of acknowledgement and you had half a mind to terminate the established contract between the hospital and nursing school. You understood the weight of students gaining hands-on experience in a hospital setting, but it was beyond the agreement for a student to interrupt a life alternating moment for the patient.
“Trainee Park I won’t ask you a second time, what is it?!”
Antiseptic solution in hand, you faced the student again, though her focus wasn’t on you but on something behind you. A line formed between your brows as you followed her gaze, leading to what she was staring at. Your patient still lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling in rhythmic motion, but you weren’t caught off guard by his regulated breathing. The patches of glaring red skin that previously looked painful to the eye were replaced with a lighter hue as if his body was recovering on its own. It was inhumane and in all your years as both a student and a licensed doctor, you had never seen anything like it. However, everyone in the room knew exactly what it meant.
“Fuck…”
One of the male nurses found the patient’s ID-card in the cardholder neatly tucked in the pocket of his pants while changing him into a hospital gown, but it was the teary look on Haneul after seeing the man’s face that everything clicked in place. Choi San, the little brother of your best friend, was your soulmate.
The realization didn’t hit you while standing in the center of the trauma room or when his injuries healed more quickly beneath the touch of your finger. The fact that you had found your soulmate dawned on you early one morning, as you were making rounds between the remaining victims of the apartment fire and came across his room — the last patient to be checked on. The thought of finding your soulmate hadn’t crossed your mind in years. It was locked away in your old high school classroom, along with your youth, when you used to fret over who your soulmate might be. Would they be a foreigner? A celebrity? A boy or a girl? Rich, kind, or rude? The possibilities seemed endless, and you often spent more time daydreaming about the different outcomes than focusing on your studies. It was a miracle you didn’t fail most of your classes.
It was only when you set a goal that you lost interest in who your soulmate was and dedicated more of your time to studying. Little by little, as assignments piled up, you pushed the thought of your other half to the back of your mind and forgot about it. Of course, there were instances when the topic would come up every now and then — meeting distant relatives for the first time in forever and having them ask about your partner, or going out to dinner with Haneul and watching her get so drunk she forgets her own name, but still manages to make bets. Looks like you’d be treating her to that BBQ after all.
You entered the room and stopped at the end of the patient bed staring at San’s sleeping form. The harmless jealousy seeped into your bones as he lay there oblivious to the turmoil wrecking havoc inside of you and you wondered if, despite his unconscious state, he could feel even a glimpse of your emotions. Because you could feel him throughout your entire shift. The change in breathing, eyes fluttering, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as if he was right there with you.
The joke you once cracked to Haneul when you first started working there, something along the lines of finding your soulmate while tending to their wounds, wasn’t funny anymore and left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. You sighed and glanced down at the patient chart hanging off the bedside. His vitals were good. More than good considering he was being driven straight from a burning building. Doctor Jung ran some tests on him during the night and they confirmed that San suffered greatly until he arrived at the hospital, until he reached you.
The doors of the room were violently pushed open and the eldest Choi entered as if her brother wasn’t lying there unconscious. Her unexpected arrival stopped your thoughts from spiraling further and your heart from racing into palpitations. It was weird to see her lips pressed into a thin line and eyes void of light, replacing her usual dimpled smile that would brighten your day.
“How is he?” She eventually asked and buried her hands in the pockets of her white coat.
You cleared your throat and mimicked her stance, both of you focused on the resting man. “He’s healthier than a newborn baby.”
Five hours of constantly being on your feet, moving around and not having the chance to take a five minute toilet break put you in a hazy mist. It wasn’t until now that you felt the weight of the situation sink in. Who would’ve thought your best friend’s brother was your soulmate?
“You know,” Haneul started and broke you out of your thoughts. “I’m happy it’s you. Someone I know and trust as much as I trust myself.”
The words were oddly warm and spread a branch of hope through you. While you were too caught up with your work and then your own feelings, you didn’t stop to think what Haneul thought of everything. Her two worlds were colliding and it could either be good or bad.
“Is it weird?”
“Not at all… It’s the best thing I could ask for. That my best friend and brother get along… Just…” Haneul gnawed on the side of her bottom lip and turned to you, “Just don’t hurt him, Jeong. San is a tough cookie, but he has a fragile heart and I really don’t want to ever choose between you. You are both very dear to me.”
“You won’t have to. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t hurt him even if I tried.”
Haneul chuckled despite the tears making their escape down her cheeks. “Is it really like how they say? Are you already… affected by him?”
You breathed out a laugh at that. The countless nights spent talking and making fun of other couples who had already found their happily ever after were sure biting you in the ass, because it was, in fact, exactly how they said it would be. The unexplainable pull drawing you toward him, the yearning to be by his side and feeling him everywhere. Every skip of his heart, harsh intake of air and twitch of his fingers were all transferred to you
“Yeah, it’s exactly how they say it is.”
Haneul eventually left to do her last rounds and finish writing reports until the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the end of your second night shift that week. San didn’t wake up until a few hours later and despite being hooked to a monitor regulating his state and showing nothing out of the ordinary, you didn’t leave his side for even a second. The dread of another emergency report coming through squeezed your abdomen until you were on the verge of puking. Just the thought of parting from him almost sent you hurling your insides in the guest bathroom. You were lucky to have wonderful colleagues who understood the circumstances and reassured you multiple times not to worry about finishing your reports or doing rounds. Nurse Hwang and Kim even passed by with snacks and water before returning to work.
The clock struck early morning when your chin slid off your knuckles and you were unpleasantly awoken from your slumber. The fear of falling to your death had you jumping out of your seat and taking in your surroundings. The sun gently shone through the windows occupying the entire left side of the room and filled the space with auburn streaks kissing your face. The warm rays seeped through the cherry blossom trees planted along the outskirts of the hospital. You found the view to be exceptionally beautiful during the early mornings when the pink petals detached from the branches, swirling in the air like snowflakes and covering the boring cement pavement..
A laser like heat bored into the side of your head and you scanned the room to find the source, only to get lost in the eyes of your soulmate. A wide smile stretched across his face and you realized the dimple gene ran deep in the Choi family as an identical pair to Haneul’s popped on San’s cheeks. You couldn’t shake away the image of a content and well fed cat at the sight of him.
San immediately shifted the blanket to the side and had one bare foot planted on the floor, ready to leap out of bed and wrap you in his arms. The man just about managed to stand on both legs when you rushed from your seat and gently pushed him back down.
“No, no, please, sit!”
San fell back on the mattress without much of a fight. The moment your hand made contact with his shoulder, an explosion of tingles erupted along your palm, spreading like wildfire through your arm and out to the rest of your limbs, reaching the tips of your toes and fingers. The air caught in your throat and, like magnets forced together, your eyes found his again. Neither of you had to vocalize the question balancing on the tip of your tongues, asking if the other felt that crackling fire. San sensed the twinge of worry squeezing at your heart and hummed in content, he reached out and grabbed one of your hands in his to ease the burden atop your shoulders. He smiled so hard his eyes turned into crescent moons and hadn’t you known better, you’d think he’d start purring like a cat receiving ear scratches.
“I’m fine. I don’t need rest because you are here.”
You ignored the heat pooling beneath your cheeks at his rather flamboyant response and steered the conversation elsewhere. “What were you thinking running into a burning building?”
The words came out effortlessly, as if you had known him since your youth.
“I didn’t do it on purpose…” He began and jutted out his bottom lip. “My feet just moved on their own, call it an instinct. Besides, I couldn’t just leave everyone inside. I’d put shame on the entire fire department!”
“Curse you for being reckless and kind hearted, San.”
“Yet thanks to my recklessness, I landed in the hospital and found you.”
The cheeky reply nearly made you pop a blood vessel. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm after facing death less than eight hours ago. The monitor attached to him shouldn’t have been stable. Based on your past experience with burn victims, San should’ve been startled and shaken up, and in some uncomfortable pain. Instead, he remained unnervingly composed, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you question your own knowledge. His calmness felt unnatural, given the circumstances. The heart rate monitor, which should’ve shown elevated readings due to stress, stayed oddly steady and only spiked up when you spoke, moved or looked at him for too long.
“San… we are soulmates. We would’ve met eventually,” you hissed, trying to mask the look of realization on your face. The soulmate bond explained his calm demeanor. As he said, he was fine now that you were there, while you just wanted to cover him in bubble wrap and not let him out of your sight.
“Yes, but not soon enough.”
You abandoned the conversation for now as it wouldn’t lead anywhere. San was deadset on his decision being correct even though it was a foolish one and you still had a job to do. Ignoring the way he followed your every movement, a polite smile and creased eyes never leaving your form, you adjusted his pillows and checked the IV attached to his forearm.
“Do you need anything else?”
“Hmmm, just you.”
Had you met under different circumstances, perhaps in a grocery store where you'd bump carts together or on a packed bus where he’d give up his seat for you and stand by your side to shield you from the other commuters, his charms would’ve worked. But you didn’t. Instead San decided to search the burning building for others with no gear, just his strong will and hope clinging onto his back, and all his attempts at flirting were futile as you couldn’t get the image of his unconscious body out of your head.
“Too bad,” you settle on saying. “You can’t have me before twelve PM.”
The pout intensified and he even crossed his arms in retaliation. Seeing a man in his late twenties throw a silent tantrum wasn’t something you thought you’d ever find endearing, but there you were, suppressing a laugh and yearning to smooth out the wrinkles on his forehead.
“Do you have to go?” He whispered and looked up at you through his lashes.
“Yes, unless you want me to be fired?”
“Fine! But the second that clock hits twelve, you and I are both getting out of here.”
“You can’t just leave, San, they have to run tests and–”
“I’ve never felt better and I think every doctor in the building can agree with me. What I will be if I don’t get to spend time with you is sick, and sad, and heartbroken and–”
“I get it, I get it!”
San lived up to his promise of spending time with you. In fact, he wasted no time running down the hallway the moment the minute hand switched to twelve, asking everyone dressed in white cloaks where Doctor Jeong was. The question left his mouth for the tenth time that minute just as you rounded the corner, ready to check out. San gave you all of three seconds to bid your colleagues goodbye before whisking you away. His plan of getting to know you consisted of lying tangled up on his sofa with a meaningless movie playing in the background, while his fingers caressed your back and his eyes shifted back to you every other second, as if he couldn’t believe you were real.
You weren’t faring any better. Your head was neatly tucked beneath his chin, and your hand was splayed over his right pectoral, the tips of your fingers gently rubbing soothing motions beneath the curve of his collarbone. Had you known your soulmate would be a kitten with separation anxiety, you’d have stalled on meeting him for a little while longer. Although, deep down, you knew that was a lie. San was everything you needed him to be and more: attentive, gentle, sweet, kind, caring — the list was truly endless.
The days spent cocooned together — San on sick leave to recover from the accident and you having the next two days off from work — made up for the thirty-something years you hadn’t been in each other’s lives. In just forty-eight hours, you created a bond that most lifelong best friends would envy. He shared embarrassing stories from his and Haneul’s childhood days — sweet memories of how his mother dressed him in Haneul’s hand-me-downs, despite her closet mainly consisting of flower dresses and cute skirts. In return, you told him about that one time you accidentally locked your parents out on the balcony and then hurled your breakfast back out from the anxiety and fear of never seeing them again. If only little you could have understood the wonders of spare keys and that your grandmother was already on her way to solve the issue.
The first night was spent staying up late, talking about heartfelt stories and niche interests to the point where you both passed out and didn’t wake up until late afternoon the next day. Who knew your hunk of a fireman liked collecting sweet plushies and was adamant on learning how to crochet?
That wasn’t everything though. A week into your freshly established relationship and San hadn’t missed to stop by your workplace once to give you lunch, coffee, midnight snacks or a quick peck on the cheek. It was easy in the beginning when San didn’t return to work for an entire week. The soulmate bond proved that he wasn’t in need of resting as much as his company thought and he eventually had to return earlier than expected. It was weird to be glued to each other for hours on end to then not be able to see each other because of your hectic schedules that never seemed to align. When you’d return home from a long night shift, he was dressed and ready to leave.
You voiced your worries to Haneul during a lunch break, saying how you were afraid of moving too fast, but now that you barely got to spend time together, it felt like you were moving at a snail’s pace. She mildly reassured you that it craved more than some social distance for your soulmate bond to break and that it would take some time for you to find your footing in the relationship.
However, working multiple shifts a week while running on little to no sleep left you too exhausted to plan an outing whenever an opportunity for the two of you to spend time together appeared. Date-night looked different in the Choi-and-Jeong books. Instead of glamming up and booking a reservation at a fancy restaurant, you decided to stay in and watch a movie that would sooner or later be forgotten as you’d be too enamoured with each other. Haneul walked in on one too many make-out sessions, and thus, you came to the decision to host movie nights strictly at San’s apartment.
Like many times before, you lay atop San, his legs parted, giving you the option to cage his left one between yours. One of his arms was bent and propped behind his head to act as a cushion, while the other was curled around you, his hand pressing against the small of your back in a comforting embrace. Your cheek was mushed against his chest and your hand limply rested on his bicep. A movie played on the big screen and a plethora of snacks were strewn out on the coffee table but left untouched. You joked about how, ever since San entered your life, your sugar cravings had dramatically decreased because he was bringing too much sweetness into it.
“Honey?” San broke the comfortable silence and spoke over the characters on the TV. You hummed in reply and he continued. “I want to ask you something.”
As you shifted to get a better look at him, he pulled you in a tight embrace and you immediately stopped moving. “Don't look at me, just… listen? Please?”
“Okay, Sannie, what is it?”
“How do you feel about… moving in… with me? Or me with you!” You could hear the blush attacking his cheeks and embarrassment clinging onto his voice as it grew higher in the end and the words came out in a rush.
Joy tugged at your lips and you couldn’t stop the light hearted chuckle from slipping out in the room. You broke out of his gentle hold and grabbed his hand in yours, and planted a chaste kiss on it.
“I think I’d love that.”
Without warning, he squeezed your cheeks between his palms and captured your lips in a tender kiss, leaving your insides warm and mushy. Despite having muscles the size of a watermelon and broad shoulders that could carry the entirety of Noah’s ark, San was a real softie. He had the habit of holding you as if you were the most valuable possession on the earth, a feather which could crumble at contact or a cube of sugar that would melt beneath the rain. The shared kisses were brief but left a tingle on your lips that you couldn't get enough of and nearly whined in retaliation as San withdrew to catch his breath.
“I adore you, like really, really much,” he confessed and kissed you again, and again, and again. The peppered kisses were planted all over your face — nose, cheeks, mouth, chin, eyes, forehead. The endearing act of love pulled a string of giggles straight out of your tummy, cursing you with an ache that your grandmother would call remedy for the soul.
One moment he was on you and the next, he turned you over to lay against the couch while he scrambled to his bedroom on the other side of the apartment. You pushed yourself up on your forearms with only your upper body lifted as you curiously watched San runoff as if his rear caught on fire.
“Sannie?”
“Just a second, honey!”
Rough shuffling reached the living room, but it was the loud crash of objects clattering on the ground that you almost headed to see the commotion yourself. San’s reassuring voice telling you everything was okay didn’t help you relax, but you trusted his judgement and remained seated. The eager wait was short lived as San returned with something tightly clutched in his right hand and stopped by the end of the couch, back uncomfortably straight and face pinched into a serious expression. Hadn’t you known him for a little shorter than a month, you’d assume he was about to get down on one knee and ask you to live the rest of your life by his side.
San cleared his throat and extended his arm low enough for you to see his well manicured fingernails. You shuffled over closer to the end of the sofa and sat up on your knees. His fingers unfolded and exposed the trinket laying in the center of his palm. An apartment key. The spare key to his apartment to be precise.
“I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I’ve never been sure of anything more than this and I really want to take this next step with you.”
“Are you asking me to marry you or move in with you?”
Red dusted his cheeks and he had to look away. Your own lips curved up as his eyes creased into crescent moons, a telltale of his dimpled smile making an appearance. San covered his mouth as if it would make his smile disappear. Testing the waters, he asked, “Would you say yes?”
“I guess you’ll have to find out.”
San was sure he could pass out right then and there. His cheeks hurt from smiling too much, but it was the only pain he would ever welcome with open arms. You climbed onto the couch and jumped into San's arms and he effortlessly caught you, his hands finding their designated place on your hips and thighs while your arms slid around his neck like a koala. Your fronts were pressed against each other, but you continued pulling him toward you, as if the chance of becoming one entity was higher than inventing flying cars. San dipped you down princess-style and stole a long kiss, one that you were more than eager to reciprocate. Your fingers tangled in his black hair, nails soothingly scratching his scalp, and your heart swelled with so much love and happiness it felt like it could explode and fill the living room with colorful confetti.
It was a shame the human needed air every few minutes because all you wanted to do in that moment was feel him everywhere. Breaking apart, you rested your forehead against his, hot breaths fanning across each other’s lower faces, chests rising with fervor as your bodies desperately tried to reclaim the lost oxygen."
“I’d say yes a hundred times over,” you breathed out, “but let’s save that for after we meet the in-laws.”
“My parents have already scheduled a day for when we can go to Namhae,” he eagerly replied to which you hastily leaned back, nearly sending you both tumbling over.
“San! I swear you’re unbelievable.”
“Unbelievably in love with you.”
Lips swollen, eyes welling with joy and hearts beating erratically, the world paused as you looked at each other. The diploma neatly placed on your desk and the knowledge you had collected over the years seemed insignificant when the love you harbored for San could regrow burned forests, mend broken bridges and heal even the most shattered of hearts.
Living with San was nothing out of the ordinary, except that you saw each other more now that you lived under the same roof. Considering your shared apartment with Haneul was bigger than San’s, it only made sense for the Choi siblings to switch places. That way you kept your room and San took Haneul’s. You quickly realized you could’ve just moved into San’s apartment instead as neither ever went to sleep alone. More often than not, San would crawl into your bed, claiming it was cozier than his, but you knew even the ground would be a great sleeping place as long as you were in his arms. That was precisely what you wanted — to be in San’s arms. Instead you were working another night shift, the most hectic one since the fire incident a couple of weeks ago.
A young man, no older than twenty, had been in a motorcycle crash, leaving him with severe pain and swelling in his right leg, which was pushed into an unnatural position. The skin was entirely torn off, exposing blood and muscle tissue. You had a suspicion about how severe the situation was, but it still called for an X-ray examination. As expected, the results confirmed multiple fractures of the femur and tibia, requiring surgery the next day at the latest. Changmin, as his driver’s license indicated, was in immense pain and even struggled with breathing difficulties into the night. This left you and your co-workers with no choice but to monitor him closely throughout the remainder of your shift. To say it was tiring would be an understatement. Your feet were so sore it felt like walking on a rug of medical needles and your back ached, begging you to lie in bed and not get up until the birds returned from Southeast Asia.
The only thing pushing you through the long day was the fact that you knew San was waiting on you at home. It didn’t matter if he was awake or not. Your tense muscles relaxed by the thought of burying your face in his chest and forget the world until your batteries were restored again. It became a routine for the both of you. When one had a more physically draining day at work, the other was ready to pamper them and make them feel completely taken care of.
After a few failed attempts to insert the key into the door, you finally managed to unlock it. A stream of blue light illuminated the otherwise dark apartment and was accompanied by muffled voices coming from the living room. You haphazardly threw your shoes off, not bothering to neatly place them next to one of San’s hundred pairs of sneakers, and instinctively followed the animated sounds that belonged in a cartoon.
The scene you were met with nearly brought you to tears. San was seated in the middle of the sofa, a fuzzy blanket thrown over his head and shoulders, with two mugs of hot cocoa steaming on the table in front of him. The bag slung over your shoulder slipped off and fell to the floor with a gentle thud. Your jacket — a gift from San’s closet — was at least two sizes too big, making you look like a bear ready to hibernate. The colorful scarf you had been wearing since your teenage years reached up to your nose. San whipped his head in your direction and his stoic expression softened into one of understanding at the sight of fresh tears coating your waterline. His lips curled into a small, reassuring smile that spoke more of compassion than words ever could.
He quickly lifted one side of the blanket and beckoned you over with a gentle command. “C’mere honey.”
That was the last straw for your tears to start rolling. You wasted no time shedding your outer layers of clothing and curling into San’s side. A sob that you had been holding in throughout the entire car ride home vibrated against his chest. San ran his hand up and down your back while whispered praises tickled your ear. He planted a kiss on your crown and pulled you over him as he fell back against the couch. You adjusted yourself more comfortably, both legs falling on either side of his hips so as not to fall, and he swiftly maneuvered the blanket to shield you from the chilly atmosphere. The minutes ticked by and you had no perception of how long you stayed in that position, but your sobs eventually subdued to soft sniffling.
“How did you know?” You whispered, a tremble hanging onto your vocal chords, and sat up.
San’s hands travelled to rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing circular motions into your flesh. “I just… felt you.”
“Felt me?”
He hummed, “I still do. Happiness, sadness, fear, anger — everything, right here.” His hand hovered over your heart and you understood. You really did.
There was no scientific explanation for the emotional connection that kept you in tune with each other’s feelings. The unexpected pressure weighing down on your lungs at even the slightest discomfort or worry he experienced, like when he stumbled upon a video of a duckling being separated from its mother. It was uncanny how your heart soared hours before he came home with good news about a promotion, or the unexplainable sense of pride you had been carrying all day — only to discover it was coming from San, who had helped a kitten down from a tree. You’d never forget the day the bitter taste of dandelion greens spread across your tongue, only to find San lying in bed, caving under the weight of his blue emotions. The best part of the connection, though, would be the buckets of love pouring into your bucket as he hugged, kissed and worshipped you. However, there was one emotion you hadn’t received any signs of.
Your fingers found purchase on the hem of his shirt that rode up his stomach and revealed a sliver of the toned skin beneath. “I don’t feel… your anger.”
San flashed you a blinding smile and spurts of daffodils curved around your heart. “That’s because nothing makes me angry, love.”
“Really? Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
A beat passed and you sighed, “I’m always angry.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re angry, just… frustrated.”
“It’s practically the same thing,” you argued and continued fiddling with his shirt. He captured your hands in his and halted your anxious picking.
“It isn’t, not by definition. We feel frustrated when we are unable to progress, while anger is the response to something we perceive as wrong or harmful… You’re not angry, my love, you’re frustrated and probably overworked too.”
Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you mulled over his words. It made sense, and you didn’t need to voice the comfort it brought you; he felt it. The unruly waves quieted to a steady push-and-pull, letting you breathe as the knot of emotions slowly untangled to nothing.
“You know, I’m supposed to be the older one out of the two of us.”
A hearty laugh filled the previously gloomy room, immediately illuminating the four cold walls, and San caught your waist again as he shifted, the echoes of his laughter filling the space.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. It'd be my honor to make you feel like a teenage girl again.”
That he did. It was almost embarrassing how his sweet gestures had you leaping face first into your pillows and rapidly firing your feet against the comforter. One would believe you were closer to being fifteen than thirty, and while you had a mild crisis, you were still grateful San brought that youthfulness out of you again.
“Was it a rough day?”
The sentimental moment burst like a fragile soap bubble at the slightest of touches. You took a breath of air and San slid his hand further up your wrists, placing his thumbs in the center of your palms while the remainder of his fingers wrapped around the back of your hand. It was grounding and kept you from re-visiting the gut wrenching thoughts that plagued your mind while tending to the young patient.
“A young guy was rushed to the ER… He got into a motorcycle accident and flew maybe a good ten meters from the crash place, and totally fucked up his leg. It was by sheer luck he didn’t suffer head injuries, let alone injuries to the rest of his body.”
You still saw the image of his bloodied body and torn clothes, a sight that would leave you with nightmares for days.
“He was in really critical condition, San. We couldn’t leave him alone for even one second. I’m talking about twenty four-hour care… He’s going into surgery tomorrow. He’ll survive, but it’s just... He reminded me of you. How you’re literally in danger every time you go to work and– and how easily I could lose– lose– lose–”
The words caught in your throat as your voice grew higher in pitch. San gave your hands another squeeze and pulled you back down onto him. You wasted no time burying your face in his neck and his arms automatically wrapped around you — one finding purchase at the back of your head while the other securely encircled your back.
“I don’t want to lose you, San.”
“You won’t lose me, love.”
“You don’t know that!”
“What I know is that I always do my best to come back to you in one piece. To my home, no?” The hand that had been placed against your head wrapped around the back of your neck and gently massaged it.
Like a flower opening up to catch the first few sun rays of the day, you put your heart out and allowed San a glimpse of what was inside.
“It just scared me,” you said between shuddering breaths. “Anything could happen, San, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you–”
“Honey.” His voice wasn’t stern, but it held a certain finality to it. As gentle as a newborn kitten, he carefully eased you back, pulling you away from where your face had been pressed against his neck. With a soft motion, he tilted your head slightly, getting a better look at your face.“Thinking of the what ifs isn’t good for anyone.”
You wanted to reply with an ‘I know’, but you knew better than to lie to him.
He wiped a stray tear off your cheek and you nuzzled against his palm. “Look, I love that you think you need me, but it’s not true. We managed more than fine on our own and just because we’ve found each other doesn’t mean we can’t function alone anymore… I love that you feel comfortable enough to lean on me, darling, but at the end of the day, you’re strong because of who you are and not because I’m here.
“And if, but just if, anything were to happen to me, I need you to know that you aren’t alone. You’d still have Haneul there. My parents. Your parents. Nurse Kim and Nurse Hwang too. That’s eight more people than me.”
Your hand enveloped his cradling your cheek. “I don’t want to think of a life without you in it.”
“Good because you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever and ever!”
A wet giggle sounded through the living room and San’s rough chuckle blended perfectly with your sweet hiccups. Overwhelmed by the affection filling your humble abode, successfully warming every corner of the apartment, you intertwined your fingers behind San’s neck and determinedly pulled him into a heart-searing kiss. Your mouths molded together in a perfect fit, much like the famous art piece by Auguste Rodin. The sculpture representing a pair of lovers destined to remain together forever, until parted by death.
San breathed life into you with simple gestures that could restore chivalry. His eyes finding yours in a crowded room, silently checking up on you as you were both tugged in opposite directions by your mutual friends. Walking the empty streets after a successful date night, the gentle brush of his fingers skimming over yours before slipping between the gaps and pulling your hand into the pocket of his coat with the excuse of keeping you warm. Slothing his front to your back in the solitude of your home as you’d be too busy for a long cuddle session on the couch. Not to mention the kisses spread throughout the day—morning, noon, and night. He’d see you off with a peck and welcome you with the same sentiment, wishing you a good night or day before taking off.
The memories you collected during your still-new relationship pushed you forward, giving you hope and belief that you were going to get through this. San’s promise of never leaving — intentionally or unintentionally — comforted you and the dreadful thoughts hadn't returned, and hopefully, they wouldn’t ever. But if they ever did reoccur, you knew San would be there to chase them away.
and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky
genre: poly doctors!ateez x doctor fem!reader, hospital romance, established relationship, slow burn, fluff, angst
length: 39.7k
c/w: slow burn in reverse, work/life burnout, heavy medical themes (death, cancer) and mentions of medical procedures (medication, needles, chemotherapy, surgery), grief and crying, brief mentions of self-harm (hitting, pinching), mental breakdowns, workplace misogyny and nepotism, profanity, kissing, non-sexual nudity, m x m interactions
synopsis: after transferring during the last year of your residency program, you work alongside your eight boyfriends at kq hospital. it becomes harder to keep your relationship the same as it used to be as you all navigate the respective challenges of being doctors and nurses. you come to experience love and loss in both warmth and coldness, but only one of them will keep your relationship alive.
a/n: please read the tags carefully as this is probably my heaviest fic in terms of the themes and struggles being explored. mandatory shoutout @sorryimananti-romantic for putting up with my snail-pace writing speed the last five months :)
nobody talks about how ironic it feels to work in the hospital during the holidays, particularly christmas.
in any other establishment that is open, be it a restaurant, cafe, retail store or convenience mart, employees are greeted kindly with festive cheer–warm wishes and sincere smiles from one stranger to another. but nobody walks into the hospital on christmas with laughter and gratitude for the assistance of the doctors and nurses, because nobody wants to be at the hospital.
nobody plans to spend the day there, either.
where white embodies the nature of christmas itself–joy, celebration, festivity, snow–it changes the moment you step through the sliding glass doors of the hospital’s entrance. white is the sterile and detached appearance of the tiled floors and coated walls. it is the bedsheets and linen of the ward beds which fall short of mimicking home. it is the authoritative coats of the doctors who are the arbiters between life and death; the very same coat that jongho currently wears over his scrubs.
you are reminded of this dystopian juxtaposition as you and five others gather around your phone from the brightness of the cosy living room in your shared apartment, talking to jongho over facetime while he hides in a storage room for five minutes of respite.
in the background of your video, the fairy lights blink rhythmically on the christmas tree and reflect off the glossy wrappers of the presents placed underneath its bottom branches. behind jongho, there are shelves of medication that you can recognise as the anaesthetics and anticoagulants solely from the colours of their labels, even in the hazy darkness of the storage room.
“you won’t fucking believe the number of grannies i’ve had to explain to today that no, they cannot go home for christmas because they literally just came out of open-heart surgery ten hours ago,” jongho rubs his temples.
yeosang laughs quietly from beside you, amusement poorly concealed behind his hands. you fondly admonish him with a light slap to his thigh but cannot deny the smile that tugs at your lips too.
rushing in for damage control, seonghwa asks, “how’s mingi?”
“tired as fuuuck,” jongho snickers whilst dragging out his words smugly, as if his own eye bags do not reach the middle of his cheeks. the way he lacks the self-control to police his language is also evidence of his utter exhaustion. “last i heard, he was dealing with a couple who had gotten a bauble ornament stuck up the dude’s ass because they wanted to try something ‘festive’ or some shit like that.”
the stories you hear from the emergency department never fail to amaze you with what the human mind can think of doing. it is natural selection at its finest–exhibit a, b, all the way to fucking z. wooyoung gets an absolute kick out of it every single time though, so there is that.
“plain stupidity,” hongjoong rolls his eyes in exasperation. “people need to stop adding to our caseload.”
you chuckle with agreement. “what about yunho? did you get to see him?”
“he’s in surgery,” jongho shakes his head. “not sure what for, but i haven’t heard from him all day so it must be a pretty complicated one.”
the conversation is cut short when his pager goes off. jongho curses, downing the last of his coffee in one large gulp and grimacing from the stale and grainy taste. he crumples the empty paper cup before he apologises, “i have to go. sorry we couldn’t spend christmas together.”
from over the phone, you and your boys refute him with comforting utterances of “don’t be”s, followed by warm exchanges of “merry christmas”s.
“i love you all,” jongho murmurs shyly, the end of a call the only time other than whispered confessions in the safety of a bed where he is comfortable enough to express himself so intimately.
you respond giddily, “love you too,” at the same time your other boyfriends also return the same spoken sentiments. then the youngest ends the call, rushing to attend to an abnormal ECG reading for a patient.
san lets out a sad little sigh as the screen of your phone turns off. his fingers continue to absentmindedly tousle the back of yours and yeosang’s heads whilst wondering, “when will we get to celebrate christmas together? i don’t think all nine of us have ever been free on the same day since we started dating.”
“most of you finish your residency in just over a year, and jongho in two,” seonghwa fondly pinches san’s cheeks, a bittersweet smile adorning his own face, “so maybe the year after that?”
piping up from your other side, wooyoung suggests to the oldest, “or, hear me out–you and hongjoong work while the rest of us stay at home.”
“and do what,” hongjoong narrows his eyes.
“look pretty,” you say in unison with wooyoung, twin grins of mischief flashing at the only registered doctor and clinical nurse specialist in your relationship.
seonghwa laughs endearingly as hongjoong pretends he is not. the rounds of your cheeks settle with warmth when seonghwa leans down to place a sweet kiss against the corner of your mouth in between a teasing, “i wouldn’t mind that.”
it draws out a girlish giggle from you, forever unable to curb the feeling of butterflies in your stomach whenever you are with your boys, even more so with the intoxication of christmas itself–the season of love. wooyoung tilts his cheek out expectantly for his own kiss at the same time hongjoong scruffs the oldest by the neck with a playful chide, “they’re going to actually drop out from the residency program at this rate, hwa.”
but hongjoong is smitten, as you all are for one another, and contrary to his words there is adoration dripping from his gaze…only for it to immediately disappear when wooyoung punches his forearm.
“kiss me, peasant!” wooyoung demands.
“that’s it,” hongjoong snaps and the younger screeches as his neck becomes wrapped in a headlock. in retaliation, wooyoung bites the skin that is within reach, setting off a high-pitched yelp.
yeosang stands up so you take it as your cue to do the same, both of you tucking your chairs under the dining table as san and seonghwa step back from the commotion. you grab your phone then walk away with the three of them to the continued sound of petty slaps and childish bickering.
just another normal day.
“should we sleep in the main bedroom tonight?”
at your suggestion, san wraps his arms around you from behind. his voice rumbles with enthusiasm that you can feel against your back and you sink into his embrace as he agrees, “good idea, love.”
the main bedroom is quite literally a bed room. it consists of numerous platform beds pushed together to make–for lack of better description–an XXXXXXXXL bed. there is nothing else in the room, any and all visible space taken up by the beds as it is the only way to create a surface size comfortable for all nine of you to sleep together.
there are only double or twin beds in the remaining normal bedrooms because frankly, you all need quality sleep for your jobs. between all of your on-call shifts, leaving the house and arriving home at random hours of the day, it is just easier to sleep separately on most nights. plus, despite the fact that you are all earning more than the average salary already, there is still a fuckload of student debt to pay off and mattresses are fucking expensive. hence, you make do with the one room where you splurged your money.
“i’ll let the others know,” yeosang states. he pulls out his phone to send a text to the group chat. mingi and jongho were unlucky enough to have drawn the short end of the stick with a 24-hour shift, and yunho had apparently been placed on surgery. so although it is not the ideal nine of you, you have long learnt to accept that there will almost always be at least two absent at any one time.
seonghwa has already made himself comfortable in the centre of the mattresses when you walk into the bedroom. he lifts the edge of the blanket, arms beckoning for you to cuddle him. you toe off your slippers and crawl into his arms, slotting yourself perfectly against his chest as he tucks you under his chin and covers you with the blanket that is warm from his body heat.
the bed dips again from the weight of somebody else slipping in behind you. he curls around you, a sturdy arm gently cradling your waist with a comforting weight. you can immediately tell that it is san simply from the way his body feels against yours–you would be able to tell any of them apart simply from the way they held you, even if you were to lose your sense of sight.
slowly tracing a finger along the prominent veins on san’s forearm, the bed suddenly rocks with a gleeful shout before the three of you are crushed under an energetic mass. “wooyoung!” you gasp between exasperated fondness and he giggles whilst squirming to make himself space within the cuddle pile.
san moves over so the younger can slot in beside you whilst extending an arm out to his side. it wraps around yeosang to tuck him into the group, and hongjoong settles in last behind seonghwa on the outside edge. there is a bit of further wriggling as you all adjust yourselves comfortably, but eventually your arms and legs twist together snugly. with seonghwa’s fingers languidly combing through your hair, fingertips grazing your scalp with each repetitive motion, you drift off to the boys’ low whispers and enter a dreamy haze of cackling fire and fluttering snow.
it is well into the early hours of the next morning when one of the trio comes home. the soft click of the front door wakes you up, your body used to sleeping lightly from years of on-call shifts. your ears slowly drag you back into the realms of consciousness as you listen.
there is a dull thud and a muffled “ow” that tells you it is yunho, the only one who has somehow made it a habit of his to bump his head on the cabinet every time he bends down to put his sneakers away. as his soft footsteps pad down the hallway, you track his path mentally in your head; to the open dining room to place his messenger bag down on one of the chairs, to the bathroom to wash his face and his hands, then finally to the main bedroom.
to see his lovers.
yunho nudges the door open with bated breath in hopes that he does not wake anybody up. a smile immediately spreads across his face, unable to contain his fondness at the sight that greets him as his eyes adjust to the darkness. within the hands of slumber, you and the boys have slowly spread yourselves out across the mattresses. still, you somehow manage to find each other through the tangle of blankets–seonghwa’s fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist; the tip of wooyoung’s nose nudging your forearm–unwilling to completely separate even in your unconsciousness.
your body dips with the mattress under yunho’s weight when he carefully inches towards you. his sturdy arms hold his frame over your smaller one and you pretend to be asleep just to feel the protective tenderness with which he dips his head slowly to press the softest of kisses against your temple. his warm lips worship your skin with the reverence a butterfly would land upon the prettiest of flowers.
in the magical remnants of an enchanted pre-dawn, yunho whispers bittersweetly, “sorry i’m late, y/n. merry christmas.” then he tucks the blanket more snugly around you, cocooning you in both warmth and love before he pushes himself back off the bed to leave.
as much as he wants to hold you and his boys, yunho has not yet showered. he is exhausted to his very core, unable to bring himself to the arduous task of showering when he can barely keep his eyes open. so he retires himself to one of the other bedrooms instead even though it is the last thing any of you want.
but all of you are used to it. none of you are strangers to coming home in the ghostly hours of night, fighting off debilitating weariness long enough only to check on the others briefly before falling against a mattress away from the clean warmth of somebody's arms.
it is the career and life that you have all chosen. it is just another normal day.
and it is this exact self-sacrificial nature within the medical field that is easily forgotten and overlooked. you and your boys sacrifice your holidays with loved ones to ensure other people get to go back to their loved ones for the holidays. it comes with the price of time, freedom and memories.
but what can also happen is that sometimes…you end up sacrificing the relationships themselves.
for every rapid shuffle you make throughout the house, gathering your things to haphazardly shove into your backpack, mingi trails behind you easily with languid strides of his own.
“i can drive,” you reason half-heartedly as you focus on the stubborn front zipper. “you can be my passenger princess.”
his scandalised look that you would even suggest a thing goes unnoticed even as he protests, “or you be my passenger princess.”
“okay, and how will i get home? your shift doesn’t even end at the same time as mine.” you throw the door of the fridge open to grab your packed lunch, cramming it into the large compartment of your bag.
“yun’s shift does, so he can give you a ride home unless he gets called in for surgery again.”
“and if he does?”
mingi looks at the whiteboard calendar that is mounted on the wall beside him, squinting at the mass of colour-coded letters that are scribbled into the box marking today’s date. “then wait for hwa. his shift ends at five.”
“no,” you roll your eyes good-naturedly, “you know how often he picks up extra hours because he can’t bear to leave his PICU babies. i’ll just take the bus home.”
“no,” mingi mimics you as he holds out your coat for you to shrug on, “the correct answer is to then wait for hongjoong or call one of us. between the eight of your boyfriends, there’ll always be someone who is just ending their shift or is free to pick you up.”
you look up from your shoes to level him with a blank stare, “you know that isn’t feasible every single day, right?” despite your words, you do nothing to stop him from stealing your car keys out of your pocket.
mingi’s doggedness–all of their doggedness–in ensuring one of them will always be accompanying you to and from work is endearing, but the truth is that it is not feasible. there is a reason why you had been commuting by yourself the last three years of your residency, and along with the fact that the nine of you have different shifts that change each week, the logistics of it all will drive you insane, if not them.
“that’s besides the point. it’s your first day of work today so i’m doing my baby a favour,” mingi coos teasingly, pinching your cheeks because he knows it gets a rise out of you.
you swat his hands away with a grunt, jabbing his side for good measure in retaliation to his smug grin. “you talk as if we aren’t both fourth-year residents. and it’s not a favour if you have to go there anyway since, you know, we work at the same hospital.”
“it’s your first day at this hospital, so technically you’re still fresh meat,” mingi argues as he pulls the front door open. while you lock it behind you–everybody else already at the hospital–he continues, “plus, my shift doesn’t start until tonight so i’m sacrificing my sleep for you.”
you give him a little curtsy with exaggerated gratitude then hurry after him when he swivels on his heel, head held high like a noble king with you as his court lady. except, the roles reverse the moment you reach the car and he opens the passenger door for you with a bow.
“m’lady,” he beckons inside.
you snort but settle yourself into the seat, patiently waiting for mingi to get in from the other side of the car. as he starts the fifteen-minute drive to the hospital, you suddenly look at him with suspicious clarity, head now clearing enough to wonder why the most rational of your boyfriends is being irrational.
“you’re trying to get on my good side for something, aren’t you? did you spill coffee on seonghwa’s scrubs again?” you narrow your eyes at him.
“what?” mingi’s head whips towards you before he looks back at the road, chuckling nervously. “no? of course not. why would you think that?”
at your lack of response, he crumbles with a confession. “it was hongjoong’s idea! he said i should drop you off so i can size up whoever might try and chat you up on your first day.”
“god, you’re all hopeless,” you burst out into laughter.
prior to today, you and the boys had discussed how public you were all going to be at the hospital about your relationship. it had been decided that you would not deny it if questions arose, but at the same time, you were not going to go out of your way to make your relationship with one another general knowledge.
not everybody is going to be accepting of your polyamorous dynamic and neither do you need people questioning whether you successfully transferred into the residency program at this hospital through…favours. because despite the fact that it is the twenty-first century, it remains the harsh reality that the doctoral field is still predominantly male-oriented, with females automatically assumed to be the nurses–lesser in hierarchy, knowledge and skill.
a rumour as such might not affect the boys but it would be enough to tarnish your career.
as mingi pulls into the underground parking lot for employees, you rest a hand on his forearm to stop him from turning off the ignition. “mingi, i’ll be fine,” you reassure. “go home and get some sleep.”
“but hongjoong–”
“–will just have to stop being a big baby. we’re in our mid-twenties,” you chuckle, “not fresh eighteen-year-olds discovering the opposite gender for the first time. everyone’s going to be too busy on their first day to care about flirting.”
you lean over the console of the car and mingi relaxes easily under your hand that caresses his jawline. he melts once you press a soft kiss against his cheek, conceding, “alright.”
“i’ll see you at home before your shift.”
he nods and watches as you get out of the car. from out of the open window, he gives you a cute little wave, waiting for you to walk through the sliding doors before he leaves. you walk to the elevator doors to press the up arrow, fidgeting with your scrubs and hair with nervous restlessness until the sounding of a soft ding followed by the low groan of parting doors. you take a deep breath, then you walk in.
into kq hospital.
boasting over one hundred different core and specialised departments and home to some of the few fields in advanced medicine, kq hospital is the largest and most renowned hospital in seoul. your years of clinical experience in other hospitals and past visits to your boys during their shifts provide you with a sense of familiarity with the place, but it is still easy to feel overwhelmed by its formidable size and bustling urgency.
seeing the fresh interns and second-year residents gathered in the auditorium as you join them for the morning orientation reminds you of your own four years ago. never did you think you would have to undergo orientation again during your residency, yet here you are, having transferred to kq hospital in your final year for the clinical exposure and opportunities in career advancement that it has to offer.
you sit towards the back of the auditorium, a few seats away from a girl who has the nerves of an intern. you give her a polite smile then face the front, not exactly ready to make small talk unless you have to. yunho always jokes that as an introvert you really picked the wrong job–you have no defence as you pull out your phone and pretend to be occupied.
somebody slides into the seat next to yours a few minutes later. however, your saving grace comes in the form of several people walking across the front of the stage, so you do not have to do much more than dip your head in courteous greeting before everybody settles into silence.
a woman in thin-rimmed glasses steps up to the podium. “welcome, interns and residents. my name is doctor heo and i’m the program director of the paediatric residency program here at kq hospital.”
the hours of the morning quickly blur together into a multitude of faces, names and information. you and a few of the other senior residents had only been required to attend half of the general welcome talk, your orientation much faster and tailored to your pre-existing experience. by the time you have gone through the policies, patient populations and workflows of the paediatric department, your head is reeling to digest it all.
only at twelve do you converge with the interns again, this time at the cafeteria. there is a generous spread of catering of finger food and drinks before the joint lunch you will have with the other faculty members from your department.
“this will be a good opportunity for all of you to meet the residents, doctors, nurses and department heads. get to know your colleagues because they will be the ones you are learning from,” dr. heo advises.
your ears perk up, wondering whether you will be able to see some of your boyfriends. san is already a fourth-year resident in the paediatric department, wooyoung one of the nurses, and even though seonghwa works mainly in the paediatric ICU, his position as a clinical nurse specialist likely makes him important enough to at least show his face.
everybody starts to make their way over to the tables to fill their plates as they mingle and chat amongst one another. you have always had a sensitive stomach that often disagrees with food–the very reason why wooyoung makes your lunch most days, which currently still sits inside your bag–but you do not want to appear ungrateful or picky. so you head to the drinks to at least keep your hands filled.
just as you grab a small glass of orange juice, a voice startles you. “it’s you! hi.”
you turn to find a man maybe a few years younger than you with a bright smile on his face. “hi?” you hesitantly answer, unsure why he is acting so familiar with you.
he frowns slightly, “you don’t remember me?”
you could honestly give less than a flying fuck who he is, but you suppose the whole point of this break is to give those fucks, so you apologise instead, “sorry, i’m not great with faces.”
“i sat next to you during orientation this morning,” he laughs like you have just cracked the funniest joke. he extends his hand out for a handshake, “i’m doctor baek, but you can call me cheolmin.”
“nice to meet you, doctor baek,” you return the handshake, setting your boundaries with your response. “doctor l/n.”
he quirks a brow amusedly. unprompted, he reveals, “my sister’s boyfriend’s aunt’s friend knows the director of this hospital,” as if he thinks you would be impressed. you are willing to bet the seventy-two dollars in your savings account that the director of the hospital does not have a clue who this dr. baek is.
as you struggle to come up with a professional response that is not a sarcastic ‘cool’, you suddenly make eye contact with somebody from over his shoulder. they are looking at you with nonchalant amusement, lips tugged up smugly and their hands in the pockets of their coat.
you hurry to wrap up the conversation and make a move to step around dr. baek. “that’s great, nice to meet you. i’m going to go and introduce myself to–”
“are you doing anything after work today?” he cuts you off, stepping slightly in front of you. “it would be nice for us to get to know each other better, considering we’ll be colleagues from now on.”
“uh…” you trail off, distracted when you make eye contact again with the person and they cock their eyebrow, asking for your permission to play knight. you give the subtlest of nods before dr. baek adjusts himself into your line of vision.
“doctor l/n, don’t play hard to g–”
“y/n,” the dependable voice of hongjoong interrupts dr. baek. your expression relaxes into a smile as your boyfriend sidles up to you, presence steadfast and unwavering. “i didn’t catch you this morning–how are you getting home?”
dr. baek’s eyes narrow even further at the implication of hongjoong’s question than when he realises you two are on first-name basis.
“mingi dropped me off so i can’t drive,” you shrug.
“i finish at five-thirty. i’ll take you home,” hongjoong says, absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. “make sure to put on your jacket while you wait for me. it’s meant to snow later so it’ll be cold.”
you laugh softly at his attentiveness, “okay, hongjoong.”
unable to watch any longer, dr. baek pivots on his heel and stalks away. your boyfriend cannot resist pulling you closer by the sleeve of your scrubs as he haughtily huffs, “i knew people would hit on you.”
“is that why you told mingi to take me to work today?” you tease. hongjoong is also from the neurology department–definitely not meant to be here right now–but you will save that ammunition for another time.
“oh, look,” hongjoong pretends not to hear you as he ushers you away from the tables. “san and wooyoung are over there. let’s go and talk to people who actually matter.”
the laugh you let out this time is unrestrained, letting yourself be led through the interspersed groups of people towards your other boyfriends–the only people who actually matter. san and wooyoung’s faces break out into the most tender of smiles the moment they lay their eyes upon you and hongjoong, and the remaining nerves and tension in your body completely melt away when you feel their subtle embraces around you.
it may be winter and the road ahead to acclimatise with your new job may be demanding, but you know that you will be shielded from the cold of the world by the warmth that your boys will always bring to you.
“patient history and current status?”
selecting the seventh floor, you press the close button to the elevator doors once your team of four have settled inside. you turn back slightly to look at your interns in wait for a response to your question.
dr. son glances at dr. yang before answering, “the patient is kim seolhee, currently six years and three months old. she was initially diagnosed with T-cell acute lymphoblastic leukaemia at two years, eight months. she was admitted into hospital one month ago due to a relapse and is currently undergoing re-induction therapy. she received a chemotherapy dose this morning, so we are monitoring for any potential side effects from the treatment.”
“and how is she responding to the treatment?” you probe.
“slow response–the leukaemia cells are not clearing as expected so second-line chemotherapy is likely to be recommended.”
you nod at the information as the elevator doors open to the paediatric oncology ward. walking out, you ask, “why is the patient not responding to first-line treatment?”
the following silence permeates with flusteredness that shows neither intern has considered this question. “doctor lee?” you cue instead.
the junior resident takes over with ease. “seolhee’s initial treatment when she was first diagnosed required aggressive chemotherapy due to resistant leukaemia. treatment lasted for two and a half years and she achieved remission at five years, four months. however, she relapsed one month ago due to minimal residual disease in the bone marrow.
“from her history, we know that her leukaemia was resistant to initial treatment and there is the persistence of residual cancer cells at the time of relapse. plus, her diagnosis is T-cell, not B-cell, which tends to present with greater quantities of leukaemia cells and thus requires more intensive therapy. all of these risk factors combined makes it difficult for remission to be achieved through first-line re-induction therapy.”
“well done, doctor lee,” you acknowledge as he beams, “all of that and the fact that her relapse is early–merely nine months after remission–correlates to a higher likelihood of treatment resistance.” you address your interns, “it is easy to focus on the patient’s immediate presentation, but it is just as important–if not more–to look at it in the context of their prior admissions and treatment responses. that was a good attempt though, doctor yang.” reaching the door to the room you are about to enter, you quickly wrap up the conversation and head in.
seolhee looks at you curiously, a new face being one of the only interesting things that change up her repetitive days in the hospital. her sickly pallor and sunken cheeks are a morbid juxtaposition against her rounded eyes and braided pigtails. as you walk closer, you can see that her hair has been plaited loosely with care so as not to strain her already-thinning hair.
you lower yourself to the side of her bed with a bright smile as you compliment, “i love your hair! who did it for you?”
immediately, she beams, any prior apprehension clearing as she tells you, “my favourite nurse! he's been braiding my hair for years!”
“has he now?” you gaze at her fondly as she happily shows you the ribbons tied to the ends too.
“are you talking about me?”
seolhee’s eyes instantly light up in response to the voice that enters the room. she exclaims, “nurse hwa!”
“hello, my snowflake.”
you turn just in time to see seonghwa walking in with endearment enveloping his entire face. you let out a small chuckle, your own eyes melting with honey at the sight of him. of course he would be the favourite nurse.
when seolhee questions why he is making his rounds earlier than usual, he leans in conspiratorially, yet in a whisper loud enough for you to hear, “a little birdie told me that your new doctor is very pretty, so i had to come see for myself.”
he winks at you and you shake your head with an exasperated smile. so much for keeping lowkey and professional. clearing your throat, you play along, “ah, are you the favourite nurse who braided her hair, nurse hwa?” you find it absolutely hilarious that six-year-olds are using the same pet name that you use for your boyfriend.
seonghwa nods, “my girlfriend taught me.”
“she must be quite the amazing girlfriend, then,” you joke.
“she is,” he smiles, gazing softly at you.
for a six-year-old, seolhee is frighteningly perceptive as she looks back and forth between the two of you before blurting out, “is she the pretty girlfriend you always talk about?”
you fluster with a bright blush that you try to conceal behind a cough, only to make eye contact with dr. son and dr. lee giving you the most delightful shit-eating grins on their faces from beside you. seonghwa simply laughs, brightly and joyfully like the festive chime of bells. his affirmative nod in response is just as childishly proud as the one adorning seolhee’s face at having guessed correctly. she decides right there and then that you are her favourite doctor, because you are pretty.
“let me give you something,” she beckons with a small wave, little fingers calling for you to look closely.
seolhee pulls a little booklet out of the bedside table’s top drawer. the cover and edges are well-loved and from the way the top of the little booklet is nearly falling apart, you can tell that she has used it often. she flicks through the empty pages one by one until she finds what she is looking for. fiddling for a few more seconds, she holds out her hand to present you with–
“a sticker?” you ask.
“for doing a good job,” she giggles.
you take the circular sticker from her extended fingers. when you look down, you realise it is a little snowflake with a smiley face on it. the corners of your own mouth tug upwards involuntarily and your cheeks round out until they start to feel sore. never did you think a mere sticker would bring you such glee as an adult, but you are going to wear it proudly.
you tug the breast pocket of your scrubs outwards so that you can stick it onto your name badge, right next to the small twinkling star that is the signature additional design on all of the paediatric departments’ name badges. at your response, seolhee beams with pride.
“where’s mine?” seonghwa childishly quips.
“you haven’t done anything yet,” seolhee wags her little finger at him as he swallows the urge to retort that neither have you. “have you drawn my blood yet? inserted an eye-vee line or a…pick line?”
“no,” he chortles in defeat, “no IV or PICC lines today. maybe a blood test later.”
“so no sticker for you,” she reprimands him rightfully.
the conversation draws a laugh out of you, yet leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. a child like seolhee should be talking about the colour of her doll’s dress and the name of her plush teddy, not medical procedures that draw her line between life and death.
seonghwa eyes your sticker mischievously. “i might have to steal her sticker then.”
seolhee glares at him like a ferocious kitten, easily deciding that you are now her favourite out of all the doctors and nurses. “don’t you dare,” she pouts before turning to you with full solemnity and seriousness to pledge, “if he steals it, come back and i’ll give you another one.”
you send him a smug wink and seonghwa finally concedes, arms raised in mock surrender. “i’ll go back to my morning rounds then. see you later, snowflake,” he gives her a wave before bidding you goodbye with playful professionalism, “see you later, doctor l/n.”
on his way out, seonghwa exchanges brief but warm pleasantries with a middle-aged woman who is simultaneously entering the room. it is easy to presume that she is seolhee’s visitor, considering she is not wearing scrubs. just as you are about to introduce yourself, the woman's eyes skim right past yours to land on the taller of the interns behind you.
"hi, you must be seolhee's new doctor," she greets. "i'm her mother."
dr. yang shifts uncomfortably on his feet and glances at you, unsure how to correct the older woman that whilst he is a doctor, he is not the most senior one. with grace, you extend a warm hand out with an even warmer smile.
"lovely to meet you, mrs kim. i'm doctor l/n, and this is my intern, doctor yang," you introduce, before gesturing behind to your left. "this is my other intern, doctor son, and this is doctor lee, my second-year resident."
seolhee's mother rushes to shake your hand as she trails off, "sorry, i assumed he was the doctor because..."
"i know, i get that often. don't worry about it," you pat her hand placatingly.
she responds, "well, it's going to be nice having a female face around."
from the flush on her face and the overcompensatory laugh that leaves her lips, you know she does not mean it as much as she is trying to cover up her embarrassment. the woman before you is not the first person to have dismissed you as a nurse or an intern solely based on your gender, and she will definitely not be the last. so you pretend not to notice, redirecting with a laugh of your own and the question, “how has seolhee been feeling since her dose this morning?”
mrs kim easily jumps on the change in conversation and the attention shifts to the little girl in bed. you listen intently to any side effects of concern, long having learnt to ignore the layered feelings of fatigue, frustration and disappointment in your chest whenever somebody undermines your capabilities, even if it is never ill-intentioned.
because as with any job, there are sacrifices to be made, and putting other people’s comfort before your own is just one of the many.
you do not want to jinx it, but you think that you may not mind night shifts after all.
“what are you thinking about?”
yeosang fills your entire vision, his brown orbs blinking at you curiously with a mellow dusting of blossom pink speckled across his cheeks from your close proximity. you have often been pulled away into a hidden corner or spare room somewhere within the labyrinth of the hospital by one of your boyfriends for a few minutes of company, but this is the first time yeosang has initiated it. his shy nature is endearing though, and it is a much-needed break during your second consecutive night shift.
you tease, "it's a secret," before pressing an innocent kiss against the corner of his lips right where it quirks up bashfully whenever he is around you. yeosang carefully rests his hands on the dips of your hips and brings you in a little closer towards him as you ask, "what about you? what's on your mind?"
“wondering how long we can stay in this storage room for before one of us gets paged.”
his answer stuns you for a second but then you both break out into giggles at the absurdity of his answer. “jongho has rubbed off on you too much," you adoringly flick the bottom of his chin with the tip of your finger. not many people know, but yeosang is just as bad of an influence as all your other boyfriends when he wants to be.
"we could try," he suggests with a grin. "none of my team was rostered on for a night shift with me."
your laugh easily fills the small space, "neither was my team."
“so nobody would come looking for us, unless–”
a discrete tap sounds against the door from right next to where you and yeosang are pressed up against one another. you both fall silent and motionless, pupils wide and breaths held, hoping you have either misheard or whoever is outside will leave soon. but then you hear another tap and it does not stop. the tapping is incessant, obviously trying to gain the attention of you two. yeosang ducks down as you raise the blinds of the small window on the door and you peer out to find–
–fucking wooyoung squashed right up against the glass pane with a cheshire grin. you finish yeosang’s sentence for him, “unless one of our boyfriends do.”
wooyoung perks up immediately at the word 'boyfriends' as if that is his cue. "hi," he announces, "are you guys making out? i heard yeosang."
you sputter while yeosang pops up beside you with a horrified expression at the younger’s uncouth question. said person beams cheekily, “can i join?”
wooyoung’s breath fogs up the glass with every word he says but he is unfazed. your boyfriend simply rubs the glass with the sleeve of his coat, presses his face up against the window again and continues to look at you both with a dazzling, expectant smile. when neither of you respond, he winks for good measure.
wooyoung flinches and shrieks when you tap the glass right between his eyes. he jerks back enough for you to push the door open and step out through the gap with mirth bubbling in your chest. you playfully drag your fingers across his chest, then tease with faux coyness, “break time is over, sorry.”
the indignant whine you receive in response is more than enough for the amusement to spill out of your chest as you walk away. you will make it up to him with triple the amount of kisses once both of you are home. for now, you walk back to your department, pleased that yeosang’s oncology ward is not far from yours.
even during the late hours of a night shift, the hospital is never completely quiet. the rhythmic sounds of beeping machines interspersed by footsteps and closing doors follow you down the corridors of the paediatric ward. what truly sobers you out of the lighthearted moment you just had, though, are the occasional whimpers; of discomfort, of pain, of nightmares.
you enter seolhee’s room alone–your interns and junior resident scheduled only for the day shift–to find the little girl also by herself. her parents must have decided to go home, having already spent countless consecutive nights by her side since she commenced second-line chemotherapy last week.
seolhee received a dose of nelarabine just this morning so you need to keep a close eye on her. a quick flick through the chart on her rolling cart shows that the nurse on night shift had taken her vitals just two hours ago with no abnormalities.
“doctor snowflake?”
you startle at the quiet murmur. turning to look at the bed, seolhee is looking at you with slow, blinking eyes and a tiny smile. your own eyes soften as you lower yourself down towards her, “why are you still awake?”
“couldn’t sleep,” she mutters.
you scan her face with concern, “are you feeling pain anywhere? feeling sick?”
seolhee shakes her head in reassurance. then in a small voice, she answers, “just lonely.”
the tension in your shoulders releases only slightly. the little girl before you may be feeling all right physically…but at what cost? your chest tightens with humbling clarity–you may sacrifice a lot as a doctor, but your patients sacrifice so much more. neither is it a choice for them.
it is a relatively quiet night; you can spend time with her. and even if you did not have time, you can make time for her.
you pull a chair closer to sit down, gesturing for her consent to lift up her blankets to check her skin for signs of bruising or infection. she nods and you ask, “why doctor snowflake?” to keep her mind occupied.
seolhee glances at your name badge. “because you still have the snowflake sticker and snowflakes are pretty, just like you.”
the line insertion site on her chest is free of discharge and irritation and you fix the front of her hospital gown. “that must also be why nurse hwa calls you a snowflake,” you fondly tap the tip of her nose as she giggles.
“my name means snow,” she tells you proudly. “my parents named me seolhee because i was born on the first day of snow.”
“they named you well, seolhee. you really are a special gift, a precious snowflake.” in the muffled quiet of the hospital ward, you let go of your professionalism for a brief moment to make a hushed promise, “one day, you will be able to join all the other snowflakes outside–free to flutter and land wherever you want.”
not confined to the hospital nor your sickness.
seolhee returns a promise of her own, “and when i’m all better, i’ll come back to visit you.” she beckons for you to lean in before she whispers into your ear, “because you’re my favourite.”
you are technically not meant to play favourites, but it is hard when she is far ahead of the others in the unofficial competition. so you whisper back scandalously, like two teenage girl friends gossiping together, not a doctor with her patient in hospital, “you’re my favourite, too.”
the pager in your pocket goes off and seolhee’s face falls with disappointment. one of her hands involuntarily reaches out in your direction, seeking comfort and companionship in a place where people succumb to grief and isolation every day.
seolhee is only a child. she should be sleeping in her own bed at home, the faint glow from her phosphorescent star stickers across her bedroom ceiling guiding her into whimsical dreams. instead, it is the washed out moonlight filtering through the drawn curtains in her hospital room, shadows of snowfall outside drifting gently across her face, that surrounds seolhee’s fragile body in a romanticised nightmare.
“how about this,” you suggest, “if you go to sleep now, i’ll come again tomorrow night and i’ll tell you the story of how nurse hwa and i met.”
her eyes light up. “you promise?”
christmas has passed, but it does not mean that the season of miracles has to come to an end with it. you nod, “i promise.”
this time, when you make a move to stand up, seolhee does not reach out for you. she does not need you to stay; she has your gift of a promise to hold onto instead.
“goodnight, my little snowflake,” you tuck her blanket around her shoulders. affectionately, you brush her thinning hair off her forehead, “love you.”
you almost miss her sleepy response, a mumbled sentence just as you reach the threshold of the door to her room–words from a little girl whose heart is too big for the world to ever truly contain.
“i love you more than there are snowflakes falling outside.”
like the heavy snowfall that comes with the arrival of mid-winter, work quickly starts to pile upon itself into layers that do not melt away easily.
you are not the only one nearly thigh-deep in the snow. besides yourself, yunho, yeosang and san are also residents in your final year juggling demanding caseloads and increasing responsibilities as the seniors. hongjoong has been slaving away in preparation for the annual meeting of the korean neurological association, and seonghwa has recently been tasked with revising the departmental policies and procedures for sepsis protocols.
all of that on top of the nine of you studying for specialty board exams, pouring over journal articles to stay up to date and partaking in research projects, it almost becomes a game of never-ending tag in the house with the small increments of time that are lucky enough to overlap with somebody else.
unable to see one another as often, much less spend time together, you and the boys have to make do whenever you can, wherever you can, however you can. it comes in varying forms; a shared smile in brief passing through the wards, an extra chocolate in your packed lunch, a quick reminder to wrap your scarf snugly.
this morning, it comes in the form of an inconspicuous-looking disposable cup waiting for you in your assigned cubby. you almost miss it and knock it over with the bag you hastily push into the space, but the stark contrast of a black scribble against the whiteness of the cup’s surface catches your eye right before you give your bag a final shove.
it is a cup of takeaway coffee from the cafe downstairs–the one you never buy coffee from because the wait for your order can take up to ten minutes, and that is ten minutes of time every single day that you cannot afford to give up. but for you, there is someone willing to sacrifice those ten minutes of their day.
your eyes soften and eyebrows upturn as you immediately deduce who the coffee is from. if the coffee itself is not a dead giveaway, then the cute, artistic doodle of rudolph surrounded by little hearts around his antlers and the accompanying phrase, ‘you’re my rein-dear’, is.
jongho.
for a brief moment of respite from the unceasing rapidity of the hospital, you are warmed from your very core all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes by your boyfriend’s gesture. one hand starts to reach for your phone to send a text of appreciation when the call of your name jerks you out of the comfort you had been encased in. the cup is set down without finding its sweet home against a pair of lips.
“doctor nam is looking for you.”
you wince. dr. nam, the head of the paediatric department, has never really seemed to take a fancy to you for some reason. you are quite certain you have not done anything to provoke his unwarranted scrutiny, but apparently you can never be too sure.
as you hurry to dr. nam’s office, your legs work on autopilot through the corridors and doorways. your mind bombards itself with a barrage of thoughts, guessing what the meeting may be for, estimating how long it might take, and calculating how far behind you will fall with the onslaught of other tasks you are meant to complete before you are joined by your juniors for your morning rounds.
you do not have time for this, and you most certainly do not have time to–
“–take on an extra intern?”
your eyes blink themselves into a carefully schooled expression of neutrality despite the voiced incredulity in the question you have just asked. dr. nam has summoned you to his office to notify you of an additional intern commencing in the paediatric department and you are to be their assigned senior. what a fucking splendid way to start the day.
it is completely normal for a senior resident to have four juniors to teach, but interns have less experience and confidence, requiring significantly more time and effort–time and effort that you do not know if you have. the thought of another intern in addition to your existing two and second-year resident is enough to make you want to enter hibernation for the rest of your life.
what you also know though is that dr. yoon, another fourth-year resident, only has two juniors under him–both second-years at that. respectfully yet firmly, you bring up such and suggest, “it may be in the best interest of all parties for doctor yoon or somebody else, even doctor ha, to take on the new intern. this can ensure all of our junior doctors are receiving as much one-on-one support and guidance as possible.”
the department head raises an eyebrow, eyes dull and mouth pressed together thinly as he stares back at you dryly. “both doctor yoon and doctor ha are promising candidates to become chief residents. they do not have time to spare to teach interns.”
‘promising candidates’. you are not saying that that is bullshit…but that is bullshit. this is the first time anybody has praised them as such and the only thing that would make them both supposedly more qualified than all the other senior residents is their direct acquaintance with dr. nam himself.
fuck nepotism.
gritting your teeth and taking a deep but restrained breath in what you know is just a losing fight, you yield, “when does the intern start?”
the right corner of dr. nam’s lips raises smugly as he answers, “today. doctor lim will be waiting for you in the resident lounge near my office. orientate him to the department.”
and down the drain goes all thoughts of ending on time tonight. when you stalk over stiffly to the lounge, dr. lim is leaning against the edge of a desk, legs extended and crossed at the ankles in front of him not dissimilar to how his arms are over his chest. one foot taps disinterestedly as he waits. you have a bad feeling you already know what kind of intern he is going to be.
“doctor lim,” you call out.
“you’re doctor l/n?” the intern looks at you snobbishly, very obviously sizing you up and down.
“yes.”
dr. lim takes a lazy glance at the clock on the wall. “you’re kinda late.”
and you’re kinda a fucking asshole, you want to retort. but you have not survived this long without learning how to reel in the burst of flames that erupts inside your chest, so instead you look at him placatingly. “you were not originally part of my planned day. doctor nam asked for a very last minute favour.”
not so much a favour as an outright demand, but he does not need to know.
“i’ll show you around the hospital before our morning rounds,” you state. at his audible sigh whilst pushing himself heavily off the table, you cannot help but get at least one jab in, “an inconvenience for the both of us, but do bear with me.”
after a sarcastic smile, you turn around without waiting to see if he follows. the first place you take him to is where all the personal lockers and cubbies are just to retrieve your forgotten coffee and take a long sip. it spites him as desired, a nose wrinkled in your direction. nevermind the fact that it has long cooled to room temperature–your coffee has never tasted sweeter.
the rest of your day, unfortunately, runs in bitter discord. straight after dr. lim’s orientation, you run yourself dry with morning rounds, acute care and consultations with other paediatric departments, all the while trying to catch dr. lim up to the expected competency for interns. the end of the day does not appear to get any closer within reach and yet, you have no idea where all your time is going.
you end up throwing in the towel exactly seven hours and twenty-three minutes into your shift, when you are trying to teach the very basics of the hospital’s electronic medical record system for the umpteenth time. there are only so many ways you can explain the five steps required to start drafting a progress note for a patient–the very five steps that do not change. if you have to repeat yourself one more fucking time you are going to shoot somebody, doctor’s oath or not, and that somebody has a last name that starts with ‘l’ and rhymes with ‘dim’.
dr. son and dr. yang are sent as the scapegoats to teach the new intern how to navigate the system. with all three of your interns now occupied, you also send dr. lee off to adjust the medication for a few of the patients whose daily lab results had come back this morning with minor fluctuations in numbers.
your body almost crashes the moment your juniors disperse and only then do you tune in to your senses. contrary to the grumbling cavern in your stomach, there is a heavy pressure in your bladder and parchedness in your throat. jongho’s coffee was the last of anything you had consumed today–the lunch wooyoung had packed for you remains untouched in your bag–and you have been unable to step away even briefly to use the bathroom. trudging heavily through the paediatric oncology ward, the one thing that keeps you upright on your feet is that you are not scheduled for an on-call shift tonight.
“y/n.”
the sweet and low timbre of the voice that sounds from ahead of you immediately turns the one into two things. it takes the remainder of your willpower not to bury yourself straight into san’s arms as he gives you a cute dimpled smile.
your eyes reflect the sparkle of happiness in his once you are close enough, neither of you having planned to run into one another. san is currently in his paediatric haematology rotation and whilst your departments are closely related, it is not very often that your caseloads align for patient consultation directly between the two of you.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, unable to hide the pleasant surprise in your words.
san steps in a little, naturally inclined to be physically close to you and answers, “going to check up on seolhee. have you gotten around to seeing her today?”
seolhee was one of the patients you were planning on fitting into your day. one of the nurses had documented nausea and reduced appetite at lunch time, so you were going to review her current antiemetic regimen and decide if it needed adjusting. but then she had ultimately been pushed back as a medium priority on your list with everything else you had to complete first.
when you shake your head, san proposes, “want to join me then?”
your lips quirk upwards at his suggestion. it is sort of piteous that your time walking together through the ward to see a shared patient is the closest to a date you have had with san in the last few weeks. but as he gives you a playful nudge to your side and you back to him like you are strolling along the snowy streets instead of sterile corridors, you are grateful for at least these short moments of interaction.
seolhee’s voice is spirited when she greets you despite the increasingly dark shadows silhouetting her face. you smile, “hi, snowflake. i brought a friend with me this time.”
when san’s gaze is not focused on you, he looks at the little girl with the same softness and deep affection; you like his moon, his patients like his stars. you are unable to imagine san ever working in a career that does not involve children.
“i’m doctor choi,” he introduces himself gently. “i heard you’ve been feeling a bit tired and didn’t really eat lunch today, so i’m here to see what i can do to help you feel better.”
as you bend down slightly to adjust the corner of seolhee’s blanket, san steps behind you to reach for her chart. he unconsciously places his left hand on the nape of your neck and tenderly squeezes out of loving habit. immediately, san feels the tight knots under his fingertips that only surface whenever you are stressed or overworked.
his eyebrows furrow and he dips his head down slightly to softly murmur, “hey, rough day today?”
“just a little,” you admit, looking upwards whilst placing your own hand atop his in reassurance. “don’t worry.”
there is a giggle to the side. seolhee’s eyes flicker back and forth between the two of you before she cryptically asks, “doctor choi, do you know who nurse hwa is?”
“i do…” san answers, puzzled by the random question.
seolhee looks at you and giggles again with a very directed comment, “i see.”
you have said this before and you will say this again: seolhee is frighteningly perceptive. if she were two decades older, you just know she would be that friend of yours who you are unable to hide any secrets from. leaning in, you whisper, “there are six more of us.”
her eyes widen with curiosity. “do i know any of them?”
of the remaining boys, wooyoung is the only other one who is specialising in paediatrics and likely to have come across seolhee before. “nurse wooyoung,” you divulge.
she sinks back into her pillow at the revelation and nods approvingly as if she is your mother. “good choices,” she supports, san letting out a bright laugh from beside you now having caught on to what the conversation is about.
the rest of the bedside evaluation continues as such. seolhee badgers you both with questions about the rest of your boyfriends–which department they are in, what their names are and most importantly, what they look like so she can keep an eye out for them.
you indulge her with answers, far longer than you should, but it is an easy decision when it comes to anything involving your favourite patient and your boyfriends. you have long learnt that any amount of time that you give to somebody else even at your own expense will always be worth lifetimes more to them than the luxury of a punctual meal or longer shower that you would gain from the time instead.
so when your shift for the day ends and you still have not completed all of your work, you end up staying overtime and it is only then, during the evening, that you are finally able to sit. your stomach no longer growls, body running solely on cortisol, the caffeine from jongho’s coffee having long depleted. you turn on your hospital-issued tablet and pull out a stack of jotted notes. with mid-rotation feedback for your juniors in two days, you have their paperwork to complete before you can even start to scrape away at your actual paperwork.
you do not realise how stiff your neck and shoulders have become from hunching over for a prolonged period until there is a knock at the door of the resident lounge and a timid, “um, doctor l/n?”
“yes?” a soft wince escapes your lips when the movement from looking up sends a brief stab of pain down your back.
the intern standing at the doorway comes scurrying in. “i’m here to give you the report on the pathology results.”
“pathology results?” you repeat, mind blank of patients who had needed a biopsy or tumour excision.
“from doctor jeong? from general surgery?” the intern’s voice trails off, face blanching at the creeping possibility that he has found the wrong resident.
“doctor j–oh,” you suppress the sudden tug at the corners of your lips to reassure, “yes, my apologies, i forgot. thank you.”
you have certainly not forgotten about an entire pathology report you have requested–this is simply yunho being your boyfriend. waiting until the intern has scurried off, you flick the clipboard open to find exactly what you had been expecting: anything but a report.
there is a sole sticky note, neon green, that grins right up at you with another of yunho's scrawled jokes. 'are you a snowman? cause i wanna stick my carrot into your mou–'
the clipboard slams shut with a resounding clap in the emptiness of the lounge. back ramrod straight, your eyes dart around scandalously even though you are the only person in the room to witness the contents of the flirtatious message.
"oh my fucking god," you guffaw. "jeong yunho!"
(from somewhere within the general surgery department three floors down, somebody lets out a delighted giggle of glee at the thought of a certain message having been received.)
your laugh eventually fades out with a poignant sigh as you peel the sticky note off the clipboard and stare at it in your hands. the start of this year has already been the toughest year in your residency thus far and it is no easy feat for nine people in the same or similar situation to balance a romantic relationship simultaneously.
you must give, and give, and give, but like you have experienced today, you also receive. it is never anything huge; a coffee, some food, a note, a conversation. yet for now, that is enough to keep moving forward even if your feet are buried deep under the snow.
however, you will soon come to realise that the issue does not lie in whether you are receiving enough or not, but in the fact that you can unknowingly give away too much of yourself without even realising.
you give the little boy and his family who are in front of you a smile that conveys both appreciation and apologeticness. if you were in their position, surrounded by inexperienced interns learning to properly insert a central line, you would be on edge too.
dr. yang and dr. son stand off to the side, hands clasped together in front of themselves with concealed nervousness for dr. lim. said man is anything but nervous, when really, he is the only intern who should be nervous out of the three of them. ever since he started, dr. lim has consistently performed with a shocking lack of care and willingness to learn. but you had learnt the hard way the first time you tried to bring up this issue that dr. lim is not somebody you can touch because of his connections, so you have no choice but to tolerate his incompetence.
you beckon for dr. lim to come closer so that you can show him the proper angle of needle entry. he does, at least smart enough to know he needs to maintain some level of professionalism in front of actual patients lest the hospital be sued.
“for an internal jugular vein catheterisation while the head is in the neutral position, what is the angle of needle entry?” you question.
dr. lim guesses, “twenty?”
“thirty to forty-five, and the angle adjusts based on the ultrasound image,” you correct, not having expected him to remember despite the numerous times you have already taught him on physical phantoms. your gloved fingers trace over the patient’s clavicle towards the sternum as you continue explaining, “locate both the sternal and clavicular heads of the sternocleidomastoid muscle. this forms the triangle where your IVJ lies beneath. the needle should aim towards the ipsilateral nipple.”
positioning the tip of the needle at the apex of the triangle for a few seconds, you then pass it to dr. lim with the instruction, “show me the positioning and angle of the needle only.”
the intern takes the needle from your hand, his other hand roughly probing the sternocleidomastoid muscle before angling the needle perpendicular to the young boy’s neck like he is a fucking hostage. your voice is curt as you rush to correct dr. lim, adjusting his hands with verbal prompts, before you slip the needle out of his hands to fully take over the procedure now.
“you’re not ready yet,” you assert when he glares at you, further reiterating, “when you can independently position and angle the needle, and you can demonstrate to me that you can use the correct pressure when inserting the needle in a mannequin, then you are ready.” you do not care if he has connections with dr. nam. you make it clear to your intern that he cannot fuck around with his theoretical knowledge and phantom training and still expect you to let him practice on real people.
outside the room, wooyoung winces in sympathy for you as he passes by and catches the end of your firm reprimand. you have come home far too many times with pent-up frustration for him–and all your boyfriends–not to know about your notorious intern. wooyoung hands over the central line kit he is returning to the ward’s nursing station then dawdles by the desk.
he waits in hopes of catching your eye and giving you a smile to equip you with the patience he knows must be needed to deal with dr. lim. your boyfriend’s face softens unconsciously as he watches your expression, now concentrated with furrowed brows as you steadily insert the needle whilst monitoring the ultrasound, because wooyoung thinks you look the most charismatic when you are working. when a nurse calls out for wooyoung, he takes one last glance at you before walking away.
you straighten up and step away for dr. lee to take over the rest of the procedure, just in time to see the back of your boyfriend’s figure darting away with purpose. his long unruly hair flies around with mirrored chaos that you could recognise anywhere. and as you explain to the patient’s parents the remainder of the catheterisation procedure, the smile on your face is much more genuine than it would have been mere seconds ago.
it continues to linger subconsciously long after the brief glimpse you get of your boyfriend. for wooyoung, too, it is the same. working together at the hospital means that you can still be a source of light for one another even if only from a far distance and that is always what gets you through to the end of your shift.
when five o’clock finally rolls around, you head to your locker whilst checking your phone. there are no notifications from hongjoong, so you type a quick message to let him know you are clocking off and going to his department first. it is one of those rare days where you two have managed to organise a date–just a quick and simple dinner before heading home since your shifts end at the same time, but a date nonetheless.
“good thing i caught you before you left. doctor nam wants to talk to you.”
you look up to see dr. lee already changed into a puffer jacket and his backpack on, a cheeky grin on his face as he delivers the message and adds, “bet you’re in trouble.”
scoffing playfully, you quip back, “probably for something you did wrong.”
he shrugs exaggeratedly and sing-songs, “who knows,” before darting away with a goodbye.
you sigh and delete your drafted text to hongjoong, alerting him that you will be going to the department head’s office and for him to meet you outside if he finishes. then with heavy steps, you go to find dr. nam. with your stroke of luck, dr. lee is probably right about you being in trouble for something.
and he is right.
“did you tell one of your interns that he wasn’t ready for a clinical task in front of your patients?”
dr. nam’s direct question the moment you step into his office is enough to stun your mind into blankness at how a situation could be wrongfully warped like so. blinking distractedly you start to explain, “doctor lim was tasked with simulating the correct needle placement against the skin–nothing more and nothing less. i had to reiterate those expectations when he–”
“so he was not allowed to insert the central line, correct?” dr. nam interrupts.
you frown involuntarily and parrot, “allowed? it was not a subjective decision to–”
“doctor l/n, you only need to answer the question that i ask. was doctor lim allowed to insert the central line or not?” he interjects yet again.
you barely manage to swallow the rising heat in your chest to answer, “no.”
“you said he was not ready in front of the patient, yes or no?”
“yes.”
dr. nam leans back in his chair. “have your other interns inserted the needle before?”
despite his position as your department head, you keep your mouth shut in defiance because dr. nam is simply fishing for the answer he wants to hear regardless of context. he does not need to hear that dr. lim is a shit intern–all he wants to hear is that you are treating your juniors differently.
as expected, without waiting for your response, dr. nam states, “there have been some…concerns raised that you are not giving your interns equal opportunities.”
“is that what doctor lim told you?” you raise an eyebrow.
“you do not need to know,” he dismisses thoughtlessly, “the point is, there seems to be a bias in the amount of support and guidance you are providing doctor lim. perhaps it is your lack of teaching and provision of learning opportunities that is hindering his full potential.”
struggling to keep your voice polite as frustration quickens your breaths, you defend, “i have taught him the theory numerous times, allowed him to observe, provided him with supervised mannequin practice and step-by-step grading on actual patients, and my experience as a senior resident and his direct supervisor tells me that he does not yet have the competency to insert a central line.”
dr. nam hums as if he is considering your words but the way he distractedly brushes the dust off the surface of his table tells you otherwise. “i see there are differing opinions. this all comes down to miscommunication and lack of clear expectations set from the both of you. i suggest you take some time to sit down and talk to doctor lim about what opportunities he will have moving forward.”
from behind your back, your hands clench together, muscles quivering from how hard your fingers dig into your palms. yet you do not say anything–you cannot say anything, not when dr. nam simply dismisses you with, “i expect there to be no further issues in the future.”
and just like that, the one-sided discussion is over.
your feet drag against the floor as you trudge listlessly back to your locker, body heavy as if you are caught in the very midst of a snowstorm. your shoulders cave even further in on themselves when you check your phone to see no reply from hongjoong.
you want nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriend’s arms, nose pressed against the soothing rumble of his chest as he listens to you complain about your day. it will not change anything about the situation with dr. lim and dr. nam but at least you will be able to release the hot steam that has built up from the bubbling pit of lava in your chest.
if hongjoong is still working, perhaps you can sit in his office and wait on his couch. his presence will be enough to keep you grounded.
some of the nurses in the neurology ward greet you cordially as you exit the elevator and you return their smiles before sitting on a bench further down the corridor to avoid being in anybody’s way. you test your chances and call hongjoong’s number, only to hear the line ring until it sends you to his voicemail. when another attempt ten minutes later yields the same result, you send a text telling him to call you when he is finished.
you resign yourself to the bench with a passive sigh and wait, all the while a tempest swirling inside of you. eventually, one of the junior residents tilts her head at the sight of you still sitting on the bench, having passed by you almost twenty minutes ago in the same position. she calls out, “doctor l/n?”
you jerk up from where you are fiddling with your phone. recognising her as hongjoong’s colleague, you ask, “i’m just waiting for doctor kim. do you happen to know where he is?”
“doctor kim?” she furrows her brows, “he left already. he actually left early today.”
“oh.”
the heat in your chest suddenly dissipates, immediately replaced by a frigid hollowness that makes your mind go blank instead. horrified, you feel your eyes involuntarily start to prickle with tears no matter how hard you will for them to disappear.
“do you want me to pass a message on for you?” the resident looks at you with a twinge of concern, but mostly curiosity.
you shake your head and mumble, “no, that’s okay, thanks,” then rush away to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. deciding against asking one of your other boyfriends to drive you home, you forgo catching the bus too in favour of walking through the streets.
it’s not even a big deal. we’ve all forgotten about dates before and hongjoong would never deliberately blow you off.
you know that. you know this is not something you need to be upset over and you know that your boyfriend must have a reason. yet knowing does nothing to stop the trembling of your lips as you swipe furiously at your dripping tears with the back of your hand. on top of everything that has piled up today, hongjoong forgetting about your date is enough to topple it over completely.
the light snowfall from earlier has already stopped but the temperature remains just as low. as you tread through the chalky streets home, thoughts creeping through your mind like the fractal branches of a snowflake–fragile and delicate–you welcome the numbing chill around you instead and let it paralyse your emotions like an anaesthetic.
by the time you reach the front door, you have collected yourself enough. the rims of your eyes and the tip of your nose still have a slight redness to them but your appearance can easily be dismissed by the biting cold outside. you unlock the door and walk in.
you are met with immediate warmth; from the residual heat of shared dinner, from the streaming glow of lights, from the peals of low laughter. walking through the corridor almost feels like walking through a warped tunnel of dissociation–so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.
san sits on the couch, languidly scrolling on his phone with an arm wrapped around yeosang’s shoulders, who is flicking through a thin booklet of paper. sitting cross-legged at the coffee table in front of them in a stark contrast of mess is hongjoong–hongjoong who is hunched over his own booklet with a newly-made carpet and tablecloth of thesis and journal articles, textbooks and tablets.
you are so caught up by the hurricane of a scene that you do not realise you are about to step on the corner of a textbook until hongjoong’s head snaps up to look at you.
“be careful!” his warning cry is sharp with alarm.
your body jolts and you step backwards. “sorry.”
despite san and yeosang’s chirpy greetings, you remain frozen to the spot. the two of them clamber up to pull you into an excited hug, only to pause when they realise there is no way to navigate the landmine of paper scattered around the room, so they settle back into the cushions instead.
“don’t mind the mess,” yeosang giggles, unaware of the sudden onset of unease that courses through your body. “even seonghwa has given the okay for him to do this.”
your words come out thick and sticky as you ask, “what is hongjoong doing?”
san’s voice is sympathetic, “there was a last-minute change to his presentation that he’s doing at that annual neurological association meeting. his department head wants him to do a different topic.”
“he could’ve told me, i don’t know, five fucking months ago,” hongjoong curses fiercely at his tablet, “but he just had to wait until my presentation was basically done to let me know.”
you have had a bad day…but so has hongjoong.
the door opens behind you. fumbling for a moment, you try to make yourself smaller against the wall to make room for whoever of your boyfriends has returned. it is mingi back from his shift which tells you just how long you had waited for hongjoong, considering mingi’s shift ended almost two hours after yours did.
“y/n?” mingi’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles, the sight of you a pleasant surprise. he asks, “did you and hongjoong come back from your date already?”
you wince at the bomb he has unwittingly dropped; the very one you yourself were still unsure how to navigate.
“shit,” hongjoong’s head snaps towards you again but for an entirely different reason this time. “holy fuck. oh my fucking god.” his hands flutter as he upturns the scattered notes around him in search of his phone, face draining of all colour as it dawns on him he had silenced his notifications. “the date–i forgot. fuck, i am so fucking sorry, y/n.”
your boyfriends on the couch watch with darting eyes and mingi glances at you cautiously. in some twisted reality, you almost feel immobilised by guilt as hongjoong stumbles to his feet, grasping the phone he has finally found from where it had been tossed under the table.
nothing changes the fact that he forgot nor the fact that you have had a rough day. but just as you had realised, hongjoong has also had a rough day, if not worse than yours. and as with any relationship, one will always have to yield under pressure lest both people break.
swallowing thickly, you manage to force out, “that’s okay. i forgot too.”
a white lie, but a white lie has never hurt anybody.
mingi catches the slight twist of your fingers in the side of your jacket. he murmurs, “let’s go inside,” then tugs you by the elbow. he steps you carefully through the landmines further into the living room, gingerly toeing papers inches aside to reveal the floorboards underneath for the both of you to step on. hongjoong is still looking at you remorsefully as you near, his hands itching to reach out but afraid they will not be met with forgiving ones.
“it’s okay, joong, really,” you extend your fingers in his direction and gently squeeze his hand. “sorry to hear about your presentation. i know how hard you’ve worked on it the past few months.”
sadness still lingers in your boyfriend’s eyes at having made such a careless mistake despite the grateful smile he gives you. “i’ll make it up to you after the presentation is finished,” he vows. “i’ll take you out for a nice dinner and i promise i won’t forget this time.”
you chuckle softly with a reassuring nod, “okay.”
“what about you? how was your day?” hongjoong asks.
an hour ago you wanted nothing more than the comfort he could offer while you vented about your day and you are almost certain fatigue and frustration are smeared across your face right now. yet you simply answer, “it was a long day but it was good.”
another white lie.
before your boyfriends can probe any further, you state, “i’m going to take a shower first. might head to sleep early today.” you lean forward to give hongjoong a chaste kiss, who easily relaxes into it with relief. you turn to rise onto your tiptoes to give mingi one too before meeting yeosang and san halfway from where they kneel on the couch to also kiss you goodnight.
then you turn and retreat to your room. it is not all too bad, you reconcile with yourself. alone time would be good after today’s events.
a third white lie.
but again, that is fine, because a white lie never hurt anybody…nobody except for yourself.
winter passes and spring arrives, but contrary to the pulsating liveliness that awakens with the season, things start to dull with repetition and roboticism.
your rotation in the paediatric oncology ward comes to an end and you commence your next rotation in paediatric haematology. whilst your acquaintanceship with your new junior team is nowhere near as close as you had gotten to dr. lee, son and yang, there is also no more dr. lim to deal with. still, unlike the snow that has now long melted away, your workload does not cease nor diminish.
you wake up and you go to work; you manage your patients, teach your juniors and have on-call shifts; you go home, you eat, you shower; you squeeze time to see your boyfriends, you sleep for a few hours; you wake up and you go to work. the cycle repeats itself, neither you nor your boyfriends able to escape from its grip.
seolhee, too, suffers from the torment of her own cycle. second-line therapy had eventually been deemed ineffective against her leukemic cells, requiring her to undergo salvage chemotherapy and putting her at increased risk of myelosuppression. because of this, she is one of the few patients who have remained on your caseload despite the rotation change.
the most unsettling change that the toll of fatigue can have on a person is not the change in their demeanour but in their eyes. and as you complete a routine check-up on seolhee, her eyes watching you with a slight dullness to them that is not due to the late hours of midnight, you do not realise that your own pupils look the same.
you give seolhee a soft smile as you tell her, “i’ll get nurse hwa to check on you in the morning. how does that sound, snowflake?”
“he’s busy?” she asks quietly.
you shake your head. “he’s at home. both him and nurse woo are working day shifts this week.”
“what about doctor choi?”
“he finished his haematology rotation,” you sigh regretfully. “he’s in the NICU now.”
seolhee mulls over the information with her eyes downcast, then murmurs, “are you busy? can you teach me how to braid your hair?” she absent-mindedly touches the nape of her neck where her fingertips meet the smooth skin of her bare scalp. “that way i can braid my own hair when it grows back.”
you still have notes from today to write and tomorrow’s chemotherapy doses to confirm with the pharmacy and platelet orders to put through before you can chance an hour or two of sleep. but what difference does the amount of sleep make when you wake up from both with the same bone-deep exhaustion anyway?
seolhee’s eyes brighten the slightest when you pull a chair up beside her bed and it solidifies your decision to answer, “of course,” because as a doctor, time is not for yourself but for other people. you have to make time out of nothing.
you tug on the elastic around your ponytail and shake your hair out, sectioning off the right side to work with. from your experience teaching all of your boyfriends, it had quickly become clear that braiding was easiest learnt with less hair to work with. splitting the sectioned hair into three locks, you lace them through your fingers to keep them separate as you talk seolhee through the steps.
“take the right strand and bring it over into the middle like this,” you teach, moving your fingers deftly but slowly. “then take the left strand and bring it over into the middle. then we repeat it again–right into the middle, left into the middle.”
your fingers continue weaving the locks of hair over and under, the motions familiar and the memory of teaching somebody else even more so. when you have braided almost to the ends of your hair, you release the braid then tuck your chair closer to the bed so that seolhee can reach easily.
“here, you try.”
at your encouragement, the little girl does as she remembers and starts to section off three locks of hair. her fingers accidentally tug too hard when she encounters a knot and you both rush to apologise.
“sorry, my hair is kind of tangled,” you chuckle lowly as heat rushes to the tip of your ears. “i haven’t used conditioner in a long time.”
“that’s okay. me neither,” seolhee jokes, giggling at her own words before asking you, “why not?”
you distractedly run your fingers through the hair that is not in seolhee’s hands as you slowly answer, “it saves me five minutes each time. it doesn’t sound like a lot, but…”
“...in the hospital it’s a lot,” seolhee finishes solemnly.
you nod. “five minutes can be a long hug before someone leaves forever. it can be somebody’s last confession or last promise. five minutes can be the difference between life and death.”
hush settles over her room while she eases the knot apart, six-year-old fingers gentle with the understanding of an adult several times her age. after a few minutes, she changes the topic. “who was the fastest learner out of your boyfriends? was it nurse hwa?”
“it was actually doctor jeong,” you reveal.
“from general surgery?”
you laugh at seolhee’s memory, “yes, doctor jeong from general surgery. he has the steadiest and most skillful hands.”
“are his braids also the prettiest, then?”
“they are very pretty, but i think doctor choi–the younger choi–does the prettiest braids.”
seolhee’s fingers pause so she can admire the beginnings of her handiwork. “do they still braid your hair?” she asks.
“not anymore,” you give a miniscule shrug. “there isn’t as much time to do things like this and certain things just lose their novelty over time.”
she looks at you curiously. “what does novelty mean?”
“something new and unfamiliar…in a sense, special.”
“why do things lose their novelty then?” seolhee frowns.
you hum, unsure how to answer such a simple yet riveting question when you yourself have never thought about it. you deliberate over your words, “i guess when we see, do and say things that were originally different over and over again, they can simply become habits and part of our routines. we do things just for the sake of doing them and eventually they lose their meaning. when that happens, sometimes you just end up not doing them anymore.”
wistful nostalgia fills you as seolhee continues braiding your hair, the ticklish intimacy sending your mind adrift to a time when your boys would do the same–back to a time when your hair was smooth and knot-free because you still used conditioner. but change is inevitable and you have no time to dwell on what used to be. so after seolhee finishes her braid, you return to your cycle of work, home and sleep.
by the time you get home in the afternoon, most of your boyfriends have long left for their shifts save for san, who was also on-call, and yunho, who is still not back from an emergency trauma surgery. you are barely able to keep your eyes open when you stumble into the bathroom for a quick shower. this time, you completely forgo both conditioner and shampoo, simply wetting your hair as you roughly scrub your face and the rest of your body. you do not bother to dry your hair either, keeping it wrapped in a towel before you sink into bed.
you have no recollection of falling asleep when the soft click of the front door opening and closing wakes you up. eyes still closed, you drowsily listen to yunho’s soft thuds and murmurs as he treads his usual path through the house upon returning. your boyfriend pads softly to the dining room, to the bathroom…then he goes straight to his own bedroom.
no longer do you stay within the clutches of rest. yunho has always, no matter how exhausted, taken time to give you and the others a kiss before he heads to sleep. it is his habit, his routine. you lay awake for a long time, coming up with excuses as to why he has broken his cycle today, waiting to see if yunho will get up again and come into your room.
he does not and you eventually fall asleep again in restless fitfulness.
this will soon become the new norm; yunho will not take an extra five minutes to go into your bedrooms and give you tender kisses. in due time, your heart will no longer clench in disappointment nor will you lay awake in false hope whenever he returns from his shift.
you will simply drift back into the realms of unconsciousness seconds after hearing the click of the front door open, succumbing into peaceful sleep again before the door has even closed shut. after all, things lose their novelty over time.
you do not normally watch dramas or tv shows, or anything that requires a recurring time commitment, really. for one, that is hours upon hours of time that could be used elsewhere, and two, the scattered time you can find here and there is so sparse you often forget the events of the last episode by the time you watch the next.
but your fingers currently hover over the first episode of an airing drama, one too many clips of this particular show having appeared on your feed for you not to crack, so you decide to give it a go. you can watch maybe half an episode before you should head to sleep since your shift starts early tomorrow, but maybe, just maybe, tonight you will spoil yourself with the entire episode.
keeping the volume low on your phone since you are in the living room with a few of your boyfriends, you tuck your feet closer towards yourself on the couch and play the first episode. jongho’s ears perk up at the starting sounds of the introduction from where he is in the kitchen reheating some leftovers and he comments, “it’s been a while since you last watched something.”
you nod just as jongho’s words catch the attention of wooyoung walking past. “you’re starting a drama?” he asks, peering at your phone with a slight snicker. “damn, you’re going to spend even less time with us now.”
it is an off-handed joke with no ill intentions, yet it digs itself uncomfortably inside your chest, even more so when a few of the others also chuckle. your finger twitches to stop your episode. the couch sinks beside you under the weight of mingi, who has moved from his position on the floor to your right with quiet comfort and veiled protectiveness.
“we’ve all been spending less time with one another,” he vaguely points out.
hongjoong looks up from the systematic review he is reading on gene replacement therapy, still rushing to complete his presentation. “you’re right. that’s funny,” he remarks, “i can’t remember the last time we went out on dates, even when just any two of us.”
wooyoung shrugs, “we’ve all been tired.”
your mouth opens before you can stop yourself from snapping, “so why was i the only one who was the butt of the joke?”
“woah, sorry,” hongjoong winces slightly, “we didn’t know it would make you feel upset or anything.”
it is not sadness so much as guilt that pricks at your conscience, because there is slight truth to the situation–you haven’t been making as much effort, but neither has anyone. you are not the one drifting away from the others. you are all drifting apart in your own directions.
jongho steps in to smoothen the situation with a blanket statement, “we’ve all been tired and busy. nobody’s pointing fingers at anybody. drop it.” the microwave sounds and he turns to take his food out.
something is pressed into your hand and you glance down to see mingi wordlessly handing you a set of earphones. he gives you a small smile, nudging your hand with the earphones and a beckon of his brows. you return his smile and place one in your ear before offering him the other. mingi puts it in whilst reaching over to hold your phone in your stead, then taps his own shoulder with his free hand for you to rest your head against.
your boyfriend adjusts the volume higher as he murmurs, “it’s a bit hard to hear,” but you know better. mingi does not care for dramas and the volume is already plenty loud. sometimes, additional noise is just needed to drown out other noise.
the drama continues to play but you heed no attention to it. wooyoung has walked back into his room to finish the lecture he is watching, jongho now sits at the dining table to eat, and hongjoong is working on his presentation again.
the conversation with your boyfriends has ended with the conclusion that there have been no dates recently. yet, there is no extension of the conversation to make a date happen. it would be a lie to say that you have not noticed their absence, but after the first couple of times they had to be postponed or called off entirely, they just started slipping from your mind completely.
you wonder when you had all stopped making the intentional effort to go on dates, but most of all, you wonder when you had all stopped caring.
you only watch half an episode that night. you do not pick it back up again either.
she is alive.
there is a webbing of tubes and wires encasing her entire body–blood transfusions, vasopressors, monitoring lines of all sorts–but she is alive. kim seolhee is still alive.
only at the physical sight of her chest moving up and down does the reassurance unlock the tautness in your joints, the strained muscles in your body almost failing to hold your weight upright as you lean subtly against the threshold of the door.
you had headed straight for seolhee’s room before everything else the moment you had arrived for your shift. the usual fifteen-minute drive to the hospital had been shortened to half its time when mingi had arrived home from his shift just as you were getting ready to leave for yours with the news that seolhee had been readmitted into the ED with sepsis and was now in the paediatric intensive care unit. you had driven on autopilot the entire way swallowing the thick surge of panic that kept rising up your throat despite mingi’s repeated reassurances that she was stable; she just needed further monitoring.
“i thought i was going to die.”
those are the first words that faintly leave her lips when she sees you, her face mercifully free of a ventilator and oxygen mask, which is always a good sign. you weakly breathe out, tone as light as you can make it, “well, thank god you’re alive.”
“missed you too much, doctor snowflake,” seolhee’s hand twitches in your direction with attempted cheekiness as you walk closer. “i came back to follow you to your next rotation.”
despite the situation, you break out into a small bout of giggles at her morbid humour. you had sated seolhee’s curiosity by telling her your entire year of scheduled rotations and by some twist of fate, your PICU rotation had commenced two weeks ago. with a fond tap of her nose that conceals the clenching sadness inside your heart, you joke, “you just like riding in the ambulance, don’t you?”
“maybe,” she grins innocently. “the sirens are pretty cool.”
despite the snort of amusement that leaves you, her answer is what truly makes your throat constrict and voice waver. your words are hardly audible–afraid to break down fully in front of your patient, in front of sweet seolhee–when you respond, “i knew it.”
but she is ever perceptive as she comforts, “don’t cry.”
“i’m not,” you shamelessly counter, even as heat starts to pool around your eyes, and the both of you laugh at your absurdity. but in certain situations if you do not laugh, the only other option will be to cry and you cannot have that because that would be unprofessional–neither would you be able to stop–so you will wait until you are only in the presence of your boyfriends to let yourself go.
sleep starts to take over seolhee again and she drowsily blinks at you, energy depleted from her infection, cancer and the numerous drugs pumping throughout her battered body. she sinks herself a little deeper into her crinkly mattress and fights off her closing eyelids just long enough to tell you once more, “i love you more than there are snowflakes falling outside.”
it is already nearing the end of summer now despite the unchanging pristine whiteness of winter within the hospital walls. yet, you cannot bear to point that out, not when you were so close to losing her phrase of affection forever.
her eyes close and you watch the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling. thank god she is alive.
your prayer comes from y/n, but the bitter resentment at the irony of those five words comes from doctor l/n. your entire life is dedicated to saving the lives of others, yet time and time again you are forced to wonder just how much power you truly have as a doctor in the face of fate and the gods above; where it makes you wonder whether your efforts and sacrifices will always be in vain if your patient is somebody whose time on earth has just simply run out.
and it appears that you are not the only person weighed down by the harsh insecurities of your career today. yeosang’s knees are drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them as he sits on the floor against the wall of the storage room you two are hiding in, mere hours later after your turbulent morning with seolhee.
“he was our age,” yeosang finally murmurs after a few minutes of silence. “he was admitted for a suspected brain tumour only because a sudden headache caused him to lose consciousness.”
whereas seolhee had been a case of could have–she could have died–there are cases like yeosang’s patient. the would have lived; the what if and the if only.
yeosang’s chest shudders as he exhales, “he had had consistent migraines for months but he never did anything about them. he would’ve lived, otherwise. turns out it was a brain tumour all along and it ended up rupturing because it was left untreated…he didn’t survive the surgery.”
your boyfriend rarely cries and today is no exception either. yet the way he leans into your side for both physical and emotional support shows just how much his heart is hurting for this death. death is something you all learn to become accustomed to in the medical field, but desensitisation does not equate to immunity. there will always be ones that hit harder than others.
it is a harrowing death when the patient is close in age because it makes you think of yourself–of your friends, of your lovers–and it hurts that much more to think that it could have been any of those people. this morning has already left your emotions strung tight and heart vulnerable, and very quickly you can feel the same swell of tears threatening to demolish the walls you had hastily built to keep yourself collected.
you want to cry but then that would be taking away from yeosang’s hurt, so you will wait until you are home instead. for now, you tug yeosang into your arms, holding him steady against your chest as if that will support your own walls and keep them from crumbling.
by the time you get home after your shift, you are no more than a mere husk of yourself. you have drained every single reservoir of yours that holds your love, care and courage for your patients. all that is left are the fragile remnants waiting to break at the slightest touch. you trudge down the corridor to your room, muddled mind trying to recall whether san is home tonight to hold you in your sleep, when you walk past the partially-closed door to seonghwa’s bedroom.
instinctively, you glance inside. he lays listlessly on his bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, and you immediately know.
where there are the could haves and the would haves, there are also the should haves; the unjust, the young deaths. those that should not even be an existing phenomenon in the world no matter how cruel the devil may be–those who should have lived.
seonghwa, who wears his entire heart on his sleeve, has lost a PICU baby at work today.
for a split second, there is a shameful thought that suddenly infiltrates your mind–to continue walking past as if you had not seen him until you reach the confines of your own room. but you could never do that to any of your boyfriends, much less seonghwa. seonghwa, who treats each and every baby like his own, who hides in the bathroom to cry after he sees the parents hurting, whose love and empathy is a never-ending fountain of supply.
you knock softly on the door so as not to startle him then gently call out his name. it takes the door opening a little wider for him to realise you are stepping into his room and he immediately sits up, a small smile gracing his face at the sight of you despite the blotchiness of his skin.
“sorry, love. i didn’t notice you standing there,” he apologises.
you shake your head, heart clenching at the sight of him pretending to be okay. you walk closer to him until you can smooth down the back of his hair with kind hands. “do you want to talk?” you tenderly ask.
the tension releases in seonghwa’s shoulders and back as he sags, no longer keeping up his facade at the knowledge that you can see right through him. he looks up at you tiredly with his swollen eyes, “do you have time to talk?”
time you can always make. perhaps the question that should be asked is whether you have the capacity to talk…the emotional capacity. frankly, you do not. you yourself need to cry, whether for seolhee or out of mental exhaustion itself it does not matter anymore. but saying no would be putting your needs before his, and putting your needs after everybody else’s is all that you have known as a doctor, so you will wait until you are alone in the darkness under your bed covers to finally let yourself go.
for now, you rest seonghwa’s head in your lap and brush away his tears, soaking up the pain of his words into your own heart instead. only when his breathing evens out and he no longer stirs under your fingers do you finally ease yourself to lie down next to him, barely hanging on to the edges of your own consciousness. you fall asleep before your tears can even begin to gather underneath your closed eyelids.
that night, you dream of drowning–stifling lungs and gasping mouthfuls–until you eventually suffocate in silence and become swallowed by the black depths of the water. the pillow underneath your cheek is damp when you jolt awake, but whether it is from cold sweat or tears you do not know.
you are convinced dr nam’s job description includes making your life hell. no matter where your rotation takes place, the department head always manages to find fault in something you do…or do not do.
“do you know what our hospital prides itself in?” dr. nam asks rhetorically. “we are not simply a hospital–we are a family. we help each other out in times of need.”
there is a rising snort in your throat that threatens to reveal your cynicism, knowing that when the phrase ‘family’ comes from somebody of higher authority, it is just a cover-up of mock care for the employees. dr. nam continues to smile, not unkindly, but with obvious artificiality that makes it look dangerous as he asks, “so how come you are not helping out in the NICU? i know that the attending has asked you for help.”
overnight on-call shifts already have fewer staff rostered on than usual, but with one of the junior residents having called in sick, the NICU is currently understaffed. the attending physician had paged you earlier asking if you could help out with some of the routine admissions and write up the patient histories and physicals, but you had apologised and declined. for one, you are assigned to the PICU, two, you are the most senior resident on that shift and three, you have endless tasks with far higher priority to complete instead.
you struggle to keep the exasperation out of your voice, sick of being flagged for ridiculous reasons and much less when you are seventeen hours into your shift, “most of the NICU admissions were stable and did not require urgent attention. their H&Ps can be completed later when the juniors are back.”
“ah,” dr. nam nods his head condescendingly, “doctor l/n, you stick by the rules too much. where is your sense of comradeship for this family that we have at kq–if not the entire hospital, then at least within our own department? if i remember correctly, there was a similar incident with one of your past interns.”
it is absolutely ridiculous that even months later you are still being faulted for the central line incident with dr. lim. you stay silent, expression dark and jaw grinding no matter how hard you try not to let your frustration show.
“go help out in the NICU for an hour or two. i’m sure your own unit is relatively quiet right now,” he instructs. “remember, we’re a family that helps one another.” dr. nam’s grin grows wider, words dripping with saccharine honey that makes it impossible to refute.
“yes, doctor nam,” you respond through gritted teeth. double-checking you have your pager on you so that your actual ward can still reach you for emergencies, you take the elevator down to the NICU.
the next few hours are spent stretching yourself thin over both units as you run back and forth managing patients, answering questions, and most irritatingly, completing tasks that should really be allocated to juniors. it is not until you dazedly mistype the same word four times into the EMR that it registers in your groggy mind that it is already early in the morning, past the quiet time that is your usual window for a brief hour of sleep.
you inhale slowly until your chest is full then let out the longest sigh, your head tilted upwards, eyes closed and shoulders slouching as the world’s worth of resignation weighs down on you. it is 5:30AM, only five more hours–or three if you are lucky–left until the end of your shift. keeping your eyes shut for another few seconds, you recollect yourself to make it through the morning.
a resident appears in front of you, seemingly chipper as he stretches his arms above his head and jokes to a passing nurse that he had an amazing nap in the call room. the brief composure you had gathered immediately dissipates when you hear him. not only have you sacrificed your own sleep to help a unit that is not your own, but there are NICU residents who have taken the liberty to nap instead.
that’s it. you have done multitudes more than your duty requires you to do so. greeting the well-rested resident with a passive-aggressive smile, even if you are aware he is not at fault, you bid your farewell with the instruction, “tell your attending that doctor l/n has gone back to her own unit now.”
you punch the elevator’s number to your floor a little harder than intended, grateful that there is nobody else inside to hear your loud exhale of weariness and defeat. the floor display slowly flickers with higher numbers. maybe being back in the PICU will give you peace of mind.
the elevator doors open to directly reveal a ruckus beside the nursing station. “fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself, finally letting a curse slip through. “what now?”
“what do you mean you’re not a doctor?” a shrill voice cuts through the noise of the small huddle of people as you walk closer.
“i am a nurse, mrs ryeo, not a doctor,” somebody answers.
you could recognise his voice anywhere–it is wooyoung. your exasperation quickly turns into concern and you ease yourself through a few nurses so that you can reach your boyfriend.
mrs ryeo states, “but you’re a man.”
“that is an excellent observation, but unfortunately, that does not change my job qualifications.” despite wooyoung’s innate cheek, it does not usually appear when he is dealing with parents or the occasional adult patient, which tells you that this woman is either a repeating offender or has been kicking up a fuss for some time now.
“hello, mrs ryeo,” you intercept, stepping over to wooyoung’s side. “how can i help you?”
the middle-aged lady scans you up and down with disdain before scoffing, “i don’t want a nurse; i want a doctor.”
your patience has long been running on thin ice and if you did not care about your career, you would turn around, walk two steps away, then twirl around with a curtsey whilst introducing yourself as doctor l/n just to fuck with her. at least wooyoung would laugh.
unfortunately, you do care about your career so you can only explain with a placating smile on your face that you are a doctor–a fourth-year resident at that. mrs ryeo ignores you in favour of rudely pointing and beckoning behind you. “hey, you,” she demands, “see my child.”
a glance over your shoulder reveals that she has pointed to one of your male interns. he does not make a move to step forward, warily gesturing back towards you as he explains, “she’s the senior resident on call right now.”
“i don’t want a fucking resident. i want a real doctor,” she opposes.
“mrs ryeo,” you grit your teeth, “he is my intern. i am a doctor–the most senior doctor currently on shift–”
“bullshit you’re the most senior doctor. i refuse to let you treat my child. i want a male doctor.”
your fingers flutter out to grasp the side of wooyoung’s scrubs, partially to ground yourself, but also because you know that he will not stand there and let you be disrespected. however, there is absolutely no way any of you will be able to talk some sense into her, so it is better to just save your breaths. “dr. ahn will not be in until this afternoon,” you simply state.
“then i’ll wait,” she snaps stubbornly.
you nod, “as you wish. i’ll let him know.” you walk away and the nurses take that as their cue to disperse and continue with their duties now that the situation has been somewhat diffused.
wooyoung follows you aside to where there are less people. “you okay?” he asks, searching your eyes.
with a dismissive shrug you answer, “you get used to it,” then change the topic to gently remind, “document it on the EMR that she refused to be seen and then fill out an incident report.”
wooyoung nods but continues to look at you unconvinced. “do you finish at seven today? i’ll wait for you,” he offers.
“no,” you grimace, “i probably have to wait until the morning rounds are over. you go home first.” a soft laugh escapes from you when your boyfriend’s eyebrows knit together and you reassure, “i’m fine, really. i should get back to work. i’ll see you at home, woo.”
you turn around before his expression or any further questions can weaken your resolve. from somewhere near the nursing station, you know that mrs ryeo is still staring at you scathingly. breaking down now in any shape or form would only serve to fuel her misogynistic prejudices. so you hold your head up high, pretend that this is just any other day, then continue with the remainder of your shift telling yourself that nothing can make you break.
it is nearing eleven in the morning by the time you get home. your feet mechanically take you to your doorstep and your hands slide the cover of the keypad lock upwards to tap in the number code, mind dissociated from your heart and the rest of your body. like water and hot oil, you keep them separated, otherwise dwelling on how they feel together will inevitably lead to a sudden outburst of emotion.
you feel yourself being dragged back to your senses, automatically tuning in to the rowdiness that increases in volume when you open the door. it is one of those rare sundays where more than half of you are home together. there are shouts of teasing banter, cabinets closing shut and the clink of glassware being washed. vaguely, you can also hear a passionate squabble between two of your boyfriends over something trivial.
whereas before, coming home to your boys would have cooled down your bubbling oil, today they feel like the water you are trying to keep away.
“i swear it wasn’t me,” you hear.
san’s voice is slightly muffled as he teases back, “yeah, whatever you say, yunho.”
you slowly walk into the open living room from where you can also see the kitchen. the countertop surface is covered with plastic bags, groceries for nine spilling out from them as jongho systematically pulls the cold items out to hand them over to san. said boyfriend has his body halfway inside the fridge whilst yunho holds the door open by leaning on it with his weight.
“it’s true! i didn’t drink any this week,” yunho defends himself. “y/n didn’t buy them!”
you falter at the mention of your name. without the context of the conversation, you are suddenly left wondering whether you had messed something up.
“speak of the devil,” yeosang announces, spotting you as he returns from the bathroom. he comes up and gives you quick squeeze in greeting.
yunho perks up at the sight of you. “perfect! let me prove it to you,” he tells san. determined to attest his supposed innocence over something that you still do not know what, your tallest boyfriend turns to face you and asks, “did you restock our protein shakes last week?”
you frown with an unintelligent stutter as you try to recall the sudden information. last week, you had gone out to get some fresh groceries but had suddenly been called in for a shift, so you had had to give up on everything you did not deem as essential. san and yunho’s shakes, unfortunately, did not make the cut.
“no, i–”
“see!” yunho exclaims, whipping around to face san again before you can finish the rest of your sentence. his tone is triumphant as he reiterates, “i told you it was y/n who was the culprit, not me!”
san chuckles with fondness at the other, “okay, you’re forgiven.”
a bitter taste immediately spreads throughout your mouth along with the flaming heat that now covers your cheeks. you cannot tell whether it is anger or embarrassment–perhaps both–but it feels as though the water you have been holding off has suddenly been poured over you.
“why didn’t you go buy them yourself, then, if you knew i didn’t,” you question yunho curtly.
he looks at you with a grin, “because you were meant to buy them and then i didn’t have time to go.” his words are stated as a matter-of-factly with absolutely no intentions to insinuate anything apart from his reasons as to why he did not buy the protein shakes himself.
but you do not hear yunho and his playfulness that you normally indulge in–you hear dr. nam instead belittling your time and you also hear mrs ryeo with her condescending contempt, and now that you are no longer at work, you fail to reign yourself in. you snap before you even realise how heated your words are, “yeah, and i have all the time in the world.” you throw out sarcastically, “next time, why don’t i also mix your shakes, wait on my knees and hold the straw up to your lips while you drink them during your workouts.”
your boyfriends stare at you with wide eyes, silence deafening after the near-shout your voice had risen to by the end of your sentence. you let out a shaky exhale, suddenly sober. you no longer bubble and boil inside, emotions down to a simmer now, but still they remain unsteady and suddenly leave you with overwhelming exhaustion.
“sorry,” you mutter under your breath, “forget i said anything.”
pivoting on the balls of your feet, you escape to your own bedroom, ignoring the concern on wooyoung’s face from where he has woken up and stuck his head out of his own room at the commotion. you shut your door and then sit heavily on the edge of your bed, elbows resting on your knees and head buried in your hands.
“fuck,” you hiss, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes to stop yourself from crying. you are so frustrated–at everything that has happened today, at how you reacted, at the fact that you cannot seem to understand what you are feeling or what you want anymore.
you are going to have to talk to your boyfriends and apologise later, but for now, you just need to be alone.
only a few minutes pass before there is a soft knock on your bedroom door. you make no move to acknowledge the sound. neither do you make a noise of rejection though, so the boyfriend outside your door takes it as his cue to walk in.
“y/n?” he calls out hesitantly.
at the sound of his voice, you immediately look up. it is yunho looking like a kicked puppy, unable to bear any sort of conflict between any of you no matter how big or small the matter. you stand up but stay close to your bed. your heart wants to tug you closer towards your boyfriend yet your feet stay glued to their spot.
“y/n…” he starts again, “i–sorry, i didn’t mean for you to feel as though i was blaming you.”
you shake your head, “it’s fine, i know you didn’t.”
“that still doesn’t change the fact that i hurt you,” yunho expresses, taking a step closer towards you.
“no, i should be the one apologising–sorry. what i said to you was completely uncalled for,” you admit.
“hey, no. i didn’t come for an apology,” he looks at you with rounded eyes, now close enough to grasp you gently by your arms. yunho’s voice is soft as he says, “i’m worried about you. you don’t normally lash out like that…what’s wrong?”
everything.
“nothing,” you answer, avoiding his gaze.
he continues to probe, “are you sure? is it something to do with work?” when you remain quiet, he starts to guess, “...or is it us–”
“it’s work,” you cut him off before he can turn his words into a real question. “work has been tiring. i just–give me a bit of time.” you pat yunho’s hand placatingly, subtly easing your arms out of his grasp at the same time. you do not deserve his affection right now.
he fumbles awkwardly, unease stringing his body tight as his eyes scan yours. “we’ll talk later then?” he eventually concludes, verbally reaching out one more time to see if you want to take it.
“later,” you confirm softly, a small smile gracing your lips that does not reach the rest of your face. “i’m going to catch up on some sleep now.”
“ah, right. you were on call. sleep well then,” yunho concedes. he walks out of your room, gingerly closing the door behind him.
you have barely grabbed a fresh set of pajamas and underwear to quickly rinse yourself in the shower when there is another knock on your door. it takes a lot of energy not to sigh but to open the door instead where you discover san and jongho standing in the corridor with twin expressions of concern.
“did yunho talk things out with you?” san asks as jongho simultaneously says, “how are you feeling?”
you know that they have good intentions checking up on you, but you really just want to be left alone. your own thoughts and emotions are already equivalent to a crowd themselves. “yeah, yunho and i are fine. i’m fine, just tired. thanks for asking and sorry for shouting earlier,” you apologise, because you owe them that much at the very least. then you try and dismiss them before they can ask anything else, “a shower and some sleep will do me good.”
they glance down when you lift up your hand and they see the clothes you hold. jongho knows better than to push, so he places his own hand on san’s back in silent meaning whilst answering on their behalf, “you’re right. we’ll let you sleep. do you want us to wake you up for dinner?”
you smile a little more genuinely but still shake your head. “i’ll eat something before i leave for work tomorrow.”
although san has a lot to say to that, he holds his tongue and lets himself be guided back to the kitchen with jongho’s hand still on him. “let her have some time alone first. she’ll eat if she’s hungry,” the younger reassures him and san can only nod and hope that rest is all that you need. he cannot shake off the feeling that there is much more to it than you are letting on.
you hop into the shower, rinse and dry off and brush your teeth within ten minutes. sleep is your only reprieve now–the only time you do not need to think or feel–and you rush through your routine before you can start coming to conclusions about the whats and whys to the problems in your life. finishing up in the bathroom you go back to your own room, startling when you open the door and are greeted by the sight of wooyoung waiting on your bed.
“you okay?” he asks as soon as he sees you.
annoyance starts to grind your gears no matter how hard you try to remind yourself that your boyfriends are purely looking out for you. but concern has its limits before it starts to become overbearing and when they keep asking one after the other, you are unable to appreciate their efforts.
“i’m fine,” you respond tersely, words no longer genuine after how many times you have repeated them to questions you have heard on loop.
“are you sure? i know you had a rough day at work with mrs ryeo and–”
“wooyoung,” you finally interrupt, “just drop it. please.”
his expression falls and you immediately regret your words. but what’s done is done and the list of people you are hurting today only seems capable of growing–what is one more person on the list? wooyoung stands up and leaves your room with a quiet, sorry, and you do nothing to stop him.
hearing the door shut behind you, you walk over to where the curtains are pulled aside to let the afternoon sunlight of autumn filter in. all the curtains in the bedrooms are blackout curtains, the first additions to the apartment from day one of your careers. you draw them closed, shutting out the sunlight and plunging your room into darkness.
at last, you slide into bed. the screen of your phone lights up as you plug it into your charger and you find a text from yeosang and one from seonghwa just a few minutes ago, but you do not open them. you clear your notifications before you can even read the previews and put your phone on ‘do not disturb’. making sure your alarm is set for tomorrow’s shift, you switch the screen off and shove it under your pillow.
you close your eyes. you have a long list of people to work things out with before you can truly say that you are fine. but there is one thing you fail to realise as you finally fall asleep. the name at the very top of the list is not one of your boyfriends’–
it is your own.
the incident ends up being swept under the rug. you wake up that next morning an hour before your first alarm goes off, lying in the muted hours of dawn before the world starts to stir with the shadows on the ceiling of your bedroom twisting and warping like creatures.
your entire body is filled with an inexplicable sense of dread at the thought of the day ahead. it is not solely due to what happened yesterday between you and your boyfriends. there are a multitude of contributing factors but frankly, you fear dwelling on them and finding out just what percentage of your anxiety stems from the boys. unable to fall asleep and not entirely ready to face anybody yet, you decide to leave for your shift early.
the drive to the hospital feels particularly dystopian today. no matter what season the streets transition into over the year–regardless of the brilliant vibrance of autumn that has blanketed the ground for the last two months–it unfailingly turns back into the perpetual state of sterile winter once you are inside the hospital. it has never been something that you have dwelled on, but now it seems to be the truest reflection of your current self–a mere utopian facade hiding what is inside your walls.
you return nurse aeri’s enthusiastic greeting upon walking into the PICU with chirpiness that your weekend was great. you gasp with animated reactions at the story little siwoo tells you when you reach his room during your morning rounds. you comfort mr and mrs chae with graceful compassion and warm smiles when you tell them their daughter can finally be discharged. not a single person would look at you and think that something is wrong, and yet, you feel like you are simply a ghost of your emotions, detached and distant from your own words and actions. not even the news of seolhee stabilising enough to be transferred out of the PICU back to the paediatric oncology ward gives you the same genuine spike in emotions you would have felt a week ago.
the brief encounters with seonghwa around the unit and the brief glimpses of san and wooyoung around the department do nothing to alleviate your blanket of anxiety because they are a visual and physical reminder of the cavernous pit in your stomach. you end up going home after your shift with a tightness in your chest that has gradually become suffocating at the thought of being confined in the same space as your boyfriends, wondering if they are expecting you to talk to them; the conversation you had brushed off yesterday.
you are not ready yet and you do not want to talk, so instead you do what you do best–walk through the threshold of your front door with a plastered expression of neutrality as though nothing has happened the day before. but to your surprise–whether pleasant or bitter, however contradictory that may be, you cannot tell–they too appear to skirt around the issue.
there is a restless buzz in the air as yunho portions dinner out into separate bowls for those who are at home. hongjoong is hunched over his laptop with concentration at the dining table as usual, zeroed in on his presentation even amongst the bustle of yeosang and jongho setting the cutlery around him, but the jitters in his legs tell you differently. when he spots you walking closer, he shuts his laptop and places it to the side to greet you.
“seonghwa made ramen bulgogi for us before he left,” he tells you while you wash your hands at the sink and peer into the pot yunho is holding.
you gingerly slide into the seat across from hongjoong, watching yeosang dawdling in the kitchen as if he is trying to find something to keep himself busy with. “i thought he wasn’t rostered on for night shift today,” you absentmindedly comment.
jongho places your bowl of ramen in front of you and sits to your right as he answers, “he had to cover for one of the other nurses.”
you nod, waiting for the two in the kitchen. yunho comes to sit on your other side at the head of the table and yeosang beside hongjoong, their bowls placed down with a clunk that leads to silence in conversation.
“how’s your presentation going?” yunho vaguely asks hongjoong after a few minutes.
the older picks at his meat in his bowl, “it’s going alright. i only have the limitations and future directions for neurological gene therapies left to research.”
there is another lull in conversation before jongho asks, “did your surgeries go smoothly today?”
yunho nods, “i led a couple of trauma surgeries today. only one of them ended up going overtime.”
“you’re going to surpass the other doctors soon, doctor jeong from general surgery,” you tease slightly.
the boys share a few chuckles before the table falls silent once more and you can only hear the occasional slurp of noodles or clatter of chopsticks against the bowl. you glance at hongjoong, who is scratching the back of his neck, then at yeosang, whose gaze you can see darting around his bowl like he is avoiding eye contact. shifting your weight slightly in your chair, you suddenly start to realise why they are all acting so awkwardly.
it is not that your boyfriends are trying to skirt around yesterday’s fallout–if you can call it that–like you are. instead, they are waiting for you to be the one initiating the conversation so that they know for sure you are ready to have the conversation. the sentiment is appreciated but it does nothing to stop your muscles from clamming up even further.
the thought of talking and even just thinking about why you are feeling the way you are is enough to overwhelm you entirely again. it is much easier to simply pretend you are okay than to face the problems head on, because then you have to actually acknowledge that something is wrong. but you know that it is not just one issue but several things exacerbating one another, and just that awareness in itself already makes your insides lurch and clench dangerously.
there is one sole advantage to your boyfriends’ approach to handling this situation. the timeline of when to talk is left up to you, so you choose the one option they had failed to preempt–not to talk at all. you finish your ramen in silence pretending you do not see the shared glances between the boys, get up to place your dishes into the sink ignoring the gazes that linger on your back, then retreat to your bedroom whilst shoving your emotions into the deepest corners in the back of your mind.
they gave you a choice. you simply made one.
the weeks pass by. you change through another rotation and the beginning of winter arrives once more. the only thing that stays the same is the elephant in the room that remains unaddressed and your lonely fight to keep it that way.
restlessness seeps into every interaction that the boys share with you. it follows you to work, jongho and yunho making excuses to go to your ward just to see what you are doing even though their own wards are on the other side of the hospital. it is in the way san tries to swap himself onto night shifts the days he knows you are working one as well, and in how seonghwa liaises with your colleagues under the guise of his role as the CNS, simply to probe whether you are overexerting yourself or not.
it follows you home too, a constant breathing down your neck in the form of mingi carefully scanning your expression the moment you walk through the door after your shift, and in yeosang hovering within five feet regardless of where you are. wooyoung checks the fridge first thing after coming home, counting the boxes of meal prep to make sure you had taken one to work that day, and hongjoong asks how your day was with the intention of probing further to ask how you are coping. he is not the only one who tries to check and your answer never changes–work was good, you are fine.
gradually, you find yourself trying to avoid their line of sight, ducking behind colleagues on the wards or back into your own bedroom at home. it is easier to pretend that you are okay than to admit that you are not, and when that does not work, to just stay away from your boyfriends completely. you are well aware that avoiding them is not healthy, but smokers too know very clearly the health risks of tobacco yet continue to smoke. just how many things are there in the world that we know are unhealthy for ourselves–physically, mentally, socially–and we still choose to make that decision?
but as with any unhealthy choices, they eventually lead to detrimental consequences. unbeknownst to you, each denial of help causes the string inside of you to wind up tighter and tighter until it becomes taut enough to snap at any moment.
and that is what ends up happening on a wednesday night.
seonghwa and wooyoung are both still at the hospital. by the time they get home after their shifts, it will already nearly be time for dinner, so with everybody’s first preferences for cooks still working, you are the next in line. hongjoong had originally offered to order takeout instead since you had been on call last night, but you had been unable to fall asleep despite how exhausted you felt and you hated being stuck in the limbo state of idleness between rest and non-rest.
“are you sure you don’t want us to just order takeout today?”
“it’s fine, hongjoong,” you respond shortly, “i’ve already started cooking.”
yeosang sits at the countertop separating the kitchen from the open living room and dining area, watching as you make a simple soup and stir-fried dish. you try to ignore his intent staring but it is difficult when his gaze quite literally follows you from cupboard to sink to stove. it is only when he hesitantly asks, “are you okay?” that you realise you have left your expression unschooled, dark frown covering your face.
you force your features to relax and nod, trying not to throw a question back at him asking what he is doing just staring at you. his question catches the attention of san sitting on the couch, who calls out to check up on you, “is something wrong?”
“nothing’s wrong,” you sigh, turning around as if that will help to block them out, aware that your patience for them–for anybody–has started running thin. you idly hum at san’s reminder to ask them for help if you need it despite knowing fully well that having an extra person in the kitchen space would only serve to have the opposite effect to its intended purpose.
jongho passes by behind you to fill up a cup of water at the sink. as he waits, he glances at you stirring the pot before double taking at your expression. he tentatively questions, “you alright? do you want me to help?”
“why do you keep asking me that?” you reply, only half-jokingly. you drive him out with an irritated wave of your hand, “just sit and wait.”
your boyfriends are at least tactful enough to understand they are not to step foot into the kitchen until dinner is cooked, but it does nothing to alleviate the sensation of holes being drilled into the back of your head. you are so focused on ignoring them that you do not realise when seonghwa and wooyoung come home from their shifts.
“hey, love,” seonghwa sidles up to you in the kitchen as you slice some extra spring onions. “how’s your day been?”
as he asks you, he comes up from behind and slides a hand around your hip to rest on it. his touch is habitual–something he always does to you and the boys–but you are tense and on edge. you jerk in surprise, accidentally slicing your finger with the knife. it is only a small cut and absolutely unintentional on your boyfriend’s part, but your fuse finally runs out and you drop the knife with a clatter, whirling around angrily to face him.
“can you fucking stop doing that?” you snap, tone clipped and unkind.
seonghwa flusters, trying to apologise and look at your injury whilst simultaneously jerking backwards in confusion at your hostility. he stutters, “i–y/n, are you okay? i didn’t mean to surprise you–”
“no, that’s not it,” you interrupt, blind to the stinging in your finger. “i mean your fucking questions, and not just from you. all of you.” you lash out at the other boys too who have now stood up and are varying distances from the kitchen. “every single fucking day you ask me if i’m okay. can you please stop that?”
san slowly walks closer until he reaches the countertop that separates the both of you. “y/n,” he calls out to you sadly, your sudden anger uncharacteristic, “we’re just worried about you. we want to make sure that you’re okay.”
“i know you do,” you cry out with exasperation, heat starting to gather behind your eyes, “and i’m trying to be okay, alright? i’m trying for everybody’s sake. but you make it so fucking hard when each and every single one of you keep asking me how i’m feeling as if you want me to fucking break down.”
“that’s not what we’re trying to do,” hongjoong tries to reason with you, but you are unable to rationalise anything in the spur of the moment.
you desperately blink back tears. “i’ve tried to pretend that everything is okay–pushed everything to the back of my mind so that i don’t think about it and hope that it resolves itself…but it’s not working.” you take a shaky breath, lips quivering and voice quieting with every word, “i’m just one person at home and i’m just one person at work. i am so fucking tired all the time.”
“but you aren’t just one person. you can tell us and we can help you.”
you do not even register who says that, because your eyes blur with wetness and your voice increases with frustration, “no, i can’t. when you’re tired, when you’re exhausted, you don’t have the time or the energy to ask for help, much less to fight for yourself. you think i haven’t thought about complaining to you guys and letting myself cry in your arms? or escalating whatever happens at work to the higher-ups? i know what i should do, but it’s all useless.
“when you are about to be caught in an avalanche and buried alive, do you remember to ignore your instincts and run horizontally instead of attempting to outrun it? do you remember to keep your mouth shut to stop yourself from choking on snow? or to use your arms and legs to create air pockets for yourself, or to spit and use its trajectory to work out which way is up and down after you’re disorientated? no, you fucking don’t, because in the moment you can only focus on surviving. there is no time to do anything but that.”
your boyfriends are stunned into silence, not only by the bitter resentment that coats your loud voice and mars your face with furrowed eyebrows, but by the raw confession that tumbles out of your lips. they had known you were tired recently, just not the extent of it.
the tone of your words soften with exhaustion and heartache as you look them in the eyes one by one, “just think about ourselves…things aren’t the same between us anymore, don’t try to deny it. we don’t love each other like we used to. things have changed between us this year–it’s just that nobody has brought it up.” the tears that have pooled around your eyes finally slip down your cheeks. “and you know why? it’s because we’re all just trying to survive now. we don’t have the time or the luxury to do anything but survive.”
there is no thought that can be formulated in response to your words. seonghwa opens his mouth but then shuts it again because he knows you are right. it is ugly, but it is the truth.
having been in a relationship together for over four years now, not even including the turbulent years prior to becoming official when you were all navigating the hardships of medical school, your bonds are built upon the foundation of comfort and understanding. but what happens when that comfort turns into complacency, and understanding turns into indifference? what happens when time runs its course and wears down a relationship?
you avert your eyes downwards, the lines of the kitchen tiles blurry underneath your feet as your vision mists over, afraid to look at the sad gazes of your boyfriends any longer. there is a sudden thump of body colliding against the wall and a muffled curse that draws everybody’s attention, including yours, towards the corridor. mingi’s head snaps upwards with guilty eyes from where he had been trying to slink his way in from the front door unnoticed before accidentally stubbing his toe.
your body makes a split-second decision with the diversion. you push past seonghwa in the kitchen, past san and yeosang at the countertop and mingi by the wall, and past the rest of your boyfriends just standing there, back into the safety of your bedroom. it is from years of muscle memory navigating the apartment that you do not walk head-first into anything despite your vulnerable state, although your boyfriends also step out of your way in stunned stupor.
fumbling for the edge of the door behind you with your hand the moment you walk past the threshold to your bedroom, you step backwards until you are able to push it closed. it shuts with a loud click and then finally, you are alone.
you slowly sink forward to the ground, legs useless as your hands reach out towards the floor to hold yourself up. the world around you continues to blur with wetness, a stinging heat behind your eyes and nose, yet the tears do not fall and you do not cry. your gaze remains unfocused on the spot right beside the leg of your bed, frozen in your own stupor of tangled thoughts and emotions.
time, fucking time. you despise that word with your entire soul. in this world, the ones who are truly rich are not those with endless wealth to spare–the ones who are truly rich are those with endless time to spare.
when was the last time you drank freshly-brewed coffee at a cafe instead of guzzling down the grainy staleness of a rushed instant coffee that has not even been mixed properly? when was the last time you sat down for a knife-and-fork meal with warm food instead of popping a mint into your mouth to stave off your hunger pains for a little longer? when was the last time you went shopping for a pretty dress and a cute pair of matching heels instead of sniffing your scrubs at the end of a shift wondering whether you can postpone the laundry for one more day? when was the last time you used shampoo and conditioner when washing your hair instead of simply rinsing it under the water before your eyes closed on themselves?
they are such simple tasks of everyday life, yet they have now become unattainable luxuries in the face of insufficient time. you deliberately sacrifice the quality of your life to save a few extra minutes here, a few extra minutes there. but no matter how much time you are able to scrape out of thin air, it slips through the cracks of your fingers like fine sand and disappears amongst the people around you. even one spare minute, if you have any leftover after prioritising your patients, must be somehow split between the eight of your boyfriends.
you can save however much time you can, but it will never be enough. you are not enough.
the knotted twist of anxiety that has been distorting your insides for the past few weeks suddenly unravels with shattering clarity as your fears suddenly weigh you down with crushing exhaustion. you cannot even take care of yourself anymore–how can you take care of your boyfriends, much less eight of them? you want everything to just stop, but what exactly ‘everything’ entails, you have no idea.
there is a soft hand on your shoulder squeezing tenderly. it is warm, you idly think to yourself. they murmur, “y/n,” and only when they squeeze you again do you dazedly look up, blinking to clear your vision. mingi’s round eyes gaze at you and you find him kneeling beside your crumpled form on the floor of your bedroom. you have no energy to acknowledge him further than another blink and prolonged eye contact.
he stares at you for a few seconds, eyes full of words that he holds back, before simply asking, “have you showered yet?”
you do not answer, but he had not questioned you with the intention of receiving an answer. he responds for you, “probably, but i doubt you washed your hair. come,” his hand slowly travels down from your shoulder to your smaller hand, “take a shower with me.”
mingi’s gaze does not waver despite the slight narrowing of your eyes that tells him you are tired and unamused. “i stink and i want your company,” he states. then he makes the decision for you and tugs you upwards with him. despite his strength, mingi’s hands are gentle as he holds you, leading you out of your bedroom and into the bathroom instead.
you stand there and let him guide your arms through your jumper so that he can take it off your head. he does the same with your shirt, your pants and with your undergarments, his touch intimate and loving not with sexual desires but with devoted care as if he is afraid you will crack under the slightest of pressures. his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps where they brush against your skin and your eyes close with the softest of sighs, letting yourself relax under your boyfriend’s careful movements.
the bathroom begins to steam up from the spray of hot water and mingi steps you into the shower with him. quietly, he wets your hair and lathers his shampoo into it, sturdy hands massaging the tension out of your scalp and the nape of your neck. you watch the concentration in his creased brows and the water that drips down from his chin falls between your chests. not once does he look at you–only focuses on properly shampooing your hair.
it is only when mingi is rinsing your hair and you are no longer facing him do you pluck up the courage to speak delicately, “why aren’t you asking me if i’m okay?”
he is silent for a few seconds and you feel the slight pause in his hands against your scalp before he continues to run his fingers through your hair. “do you want me to ask?”
once again, you do not answer, but that is an answer in itself.
“plus,” mingi softly murmurs, hands leaving your hair, the click of a bottle cap opening resounding in the echo of the bathroom louder than his voice, “you’ll just say that you’re okay…even though you’re not.”
then the touch of his fingers returns as he teases something cold into your hair from its roots to its ends. almost immediately, you choke up and your expression crumples, lips trembling downwards as your eyebrows furrow, because mingi is putting conditioner in your hair. it is embarrassing that this of all things is what finally marks your breakdown, but mingi does not comment when your shoulders shudder with shaky exhales nor when you fail to hold in a stuttering sob. he lets you cry out your sorrows, pain and fatigue and he simply continues to massage the conditioner into your hair.
mingi simply continues to love you in the way that you did not love yourself.
when your hair is rinsed, only then does he turn you around to face him. under the showerhead with only the comforting tranquility of water pattering against the tiles around the both of you, he softly tilts your chin upwards to capture your lips in a kiss. it is a slow but simple kiss, lips pressed against yours with a thousand utterances of comfort and reassurances dancing across them.
he gives you one kiss, then another, and another, each one sweeter than the previous despite the salty tracks that run down your cheeks. your hands find their way onto his chest and the steady beat of his heart thrums underneath your palm. mingi rests your foreheads together, your tears falling in solitude with the water and with the tears that fall from inside his heart.
finally, he asks, “is it work?”
you shake your head slightly. “i don’t know.”
“is it us?”
the tears that had slowed down reappear with a strangled sob as you answer truthfully, your fears emerging at least, “i don’t know.”
“that’s okay, you don’t have to know,” he whispers, “and you don’t have to be okay.” he pulls away a little so that he can cradle your jaw with his hands and look into your eyes. “take the day off tomorrow, y/n.”
you do nothing to stop the tears that continue spilling over the bottom of your eyes as you shakily answer, “i don’t have time. my patients need me.”
“you do have time,” mingi counters, thumbing your tears away. “you just haven’t been spending that time on yourself. even doctors get sick, you know.”
“i’m not sick,” you deny.
your boyfriend pulls you into his chest and encases you in a protective embrace. “physically, maybe not. but your mental health is just as important, and sometimes the things that you can’t see inflict more suffering than the things that you can see.”
it is something that you all know and understand, but when you are trapped in a workplace where the mentality revolves entirely around a medical model of physical health, the disparity in value you place between your physical and mental health becomes so deeply ingrained it is almost impossible to change.
“mingi, what if…” you trail off. your boyfriend nuzzles the top of your head with his chin before brushing his lips over the crown of your forehead in encouragement. you swallow thickly to continue, “what if i need time alone?”
mingi pulls away from you once more, slowly so as not to further upset your already-scattered emotions. he looks at you earnestly, considering your words and their meaning–whether he is understanding your undertone correctly and whether this is a genuine request for respite or a spur-of-the-moment cry for reassurance. he watches your eyes flicker back and forth between his own.
“if that’s what you need,” he finally whispers, wrapping you closer in his arms again, “then i’ll support you no matter what.”
he feels your small puff of surprise against his chest and it pierces through his heart like a sword. how he wishes that you would realise that he and any of your other boys would pluck all the stars in the universe’s galaxies if you were to ask for them. but instead, you are asking him in a small and timid voice, “you’re not upset? the others won’t be upset?”
mingi chooses his next words carefully, aware that they could easily be misunderstood but also unwilling to treat you like a child where the world is only full of happy endings. not that you believe that anymore, anyway. “we will be upset,” he gently breaks to you, “but only at the situation that we're in because things have ended up like this before we could even really do anything for you. y/n, we will never be upset at you in this situation, much less upset at the decisions you choose to make. if time is what you need, then take however much time you need.”
you do not have the courage to lift up your head to meet his eyes, shame starting to creep through your veins because what if this decision is simply a decision to run away yet again? but then mingi senses your doubts and draws you in for another kiss. he captures your lips between his, pressing against you a little harder when you both start to run out of breath. he draws it out for longer until the kiss becomes dizzyingly and intoxicatingly blissful and fills your mind with thoughts of him and him only.
when you can finally inhale, the air swirls with a mix of his scent and the shampoo he had used. here, under the warm spray of water within the safe confines of the shower and mingi's arms, it may only be momentary but you are okay.
“can you tell the boys for me?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. “i don't think i can tell them myself.”
mingi nods and the corners of his lips rise bittersweetly. “of course.”
so for the first time in four years since moving in with your boys, on a night that snows lightly but unceasingly, you pack a small bag of clothes and essential belongings…
and move out.
“good evening, doctor jeong from general surgery.”
the running joke between himself and the little girl in front never fails to draw a laugh of amusement out of yunho, who pretends to bow in formal greeting as he returns the acknowledgement, “good evening, kim seolhee from the paediatric ward.” when she giggles, he comments, “you look like you’re having a good day.”
seolhee grins and nods with excitement. not only does her expression look livelier, there is a slight healthy glow to her skin as well. “i was just telling doctor snowflake that they’re letting me go home for christmas next week before my next round of treatments start.”
at her words, there is no way to avoid eye contact with your boyfriend as his gaze automatically flicks over to where you are sitting beside her bed. ever since you moved out a few days ago into a friend’s rented apartment with a spare couch, your encounters with your boyfriends around the hospital have been…different.
a shift in dynamics was always going to be inevitable because it was–is–an action of request for space to think and just breathe, even though neither parties are truly mad or upset at one another. just as mingi had reassured you in the shower, it is simply the circumstances that have piled up and led to a consequence like so, and if you need time away from a contributing factor to sort your emotions out, there are absolutely no hard feelings. despite all this, your boyfriends cannot help but yearn to reach out and bring you back into their arms–to bring you back home.
yunho’s eyes soften the moment they lay upon you and he savours the sight of you today, unsure of when he will next see you around the hospital. “that’s so good to hear,” he says earnestly, “and i’m sure that news has made doctor snowflake’s entire week.”
he smiles at you warmly and this time you find yourself mirroring his expression, awkwardness taking a backseat because you know he is genuinely happy for both seolhee and you. the level of fondness and love you have for seolhee has long blurred past the usual level of care you would show to a patient on your caseload. she has spent more christmas’ in hospital than out, so to be able to spend these holidays at home is the greatest gift seolhee could receive and the greatest gift you could witness.
your boyfriend lingers around for a little longer, pushing his visit as long as he can without it being obvious that he does not actually have a reason to stay. eventually he says, “i better get back to work. enjoy your christmas at home, seolhee.”
she nods happily and then he looks at you. “i’ll see you–” yunho cuts himself off, holding back from finishing the sentence with ‘at home’. he corrects, “i’ll see you around.”
“see you,” you respond amiably, fingers fiddling with the hem of your scrubs as he walks out.
yunho only makes it a couple of steps away before he bumps into wooyoung making his evening rounds. they exchange brief conversation and you quickly avert your gaze when you see the taller of the two gesturing back into seolhee’s room. seolhee’s eyes dart between yours and the view outside her room before she points out, “it’s nurse woo!”
“really?” you lie, pretending you had not noticed. yunho has already walked off by the time you look back, so only wooyoung is looking at you. he makes no move to come into seolhee’s room. instead, he gives you a little wave with a hopeful smile. a small exhale of fondness leaves you as you return his gesture through the room’s window with a similar amount of restraint. however, it is enough to make your boyfriend break out into a beam, and then he goes running off.
seolhee is already staring at you when you turn to face her again. she raises an eyebrow. “are you and your boyfriends fighting?” she immediately asks.
her question makes you flinch with a sheepish smile, knowing that she would catch a whiff of it sooner or later–just not this fast. are you and your boys fighting? it is technically not a proper argument nor a proper break from the relationship, but there is the need to take a step back and rethink what certain things mean to you–to the boys–and what you want your life to look like.
you are not about to unload all of this onto the now seven-year-old girl with an ‘it’s complicated’ as your answer, so you opt for a simple, “yeah, kind of.”
seolhee shrugs and comments casually, “my parents used to fight all the time.”
you are reminded of her mother, mrs kim, who you have seen several times during visiting hours after that first meeting with her. you are also reminded of mr kim, her father who drops by whenever he can when he is not at work. they have been nothing but strong and supportive parents during seolhee’s battle with her cancer and you cannot reconcile that image of them with the image of constant arguing.
“what changed?” you probe curiously.
despite the smile on her face, the glimmer in seolhee’s eyes fade slightly. “i got diagnosed and then they realised that in the grand scheme of the universe, life is just too short not to spend every moment loving each other.” she turns to look outside the window on the other side of her bed. “we learnt a lot–love isn’t just about expensive outings and fancy gestures and impressive words because there are a lot of things that i can’t do that other normal kids and families can…we learnt that love is all about the small things too and those small moments in life are the things we truly end up cherishing, especially during the tough times.
“mum helps me pick out the colour of my bandanna when i want to wear one, and dad helps me hold the bucket up when i’m feeling sick. i pretend to hide my parents behind the curtains to see if the nurses will let us have an extra five minutes past visiting hours, and they will always smile and give us ten. we don’t always love each other the same way as other families do, but those are the things that we’ll remember the most.”
you look out the window with seolhee as you listen to her words. the snow has fallen lightly the entire day and now under the streetlights, the growing layer of snow glows brightly amongst the dimness of the winter night. you think back to your boys–the lack of dates and diminishing displays of love; how that had been one of the first indicators that something had changed in the relationship dynamics. then you also think back to those small gestures they had done for you; the silly notes, the coffees, the brief conversations, the meals, the break room hugs.
“it’s kind of like snow,” you murmur to neither yourself nor seolhee in particular. “you don’t notice it at first, and only when it starts to form a layer on the ground over time do you start to realise how much it has actually snowed.”
the moment those words leave your lips, you are suddenly reminded of how even those small gestures had gradually disappeared–how that too played a part in the shift in your romantic relationships. your tone is wistful, “then the snow melts and it's gone, just like that.”
seolhee looks back at you, considering your words thoughtfully. she hums for a moment before putting forward, “it melts, but does that change the fact that it snowed in the first place?”
the snowflakes continue to drift softly outside like butterfly wings. as beautiful as they are, there will come a time when they melt away, but the reality before your eyes right now is that they exist–they are there. it is snowing.
“no,” you reply, “it doesn’t.”
“then maybe it's up to us to remember that it snowed until it does snow again,” she smiles triumphantly, the innocence of her radiating beam so strikingly different to the clarifying wisdom she has suddenly dropped even if she does not know the true extent of the meaning her words hold to you. seolhee points at your name badge to drive her point home, “it's just like your badge. my sticker is gone now but that doesn't change the fact that it used to be there.”
your head flicks down immediately and you tilt your badge upwards so that you can get a good look it at. disappointment washes over you when you find that her words are true and her sticker is gone, so worn and loved that it has fallen off somewhere within the hospital. you have no idea when that occurred but it must have been today, because it was still there this morning when you touched it for comfort on your drive here. now, only the faint outline of its shape remains.
it should not hold as much sentimental value as it does, but the realisation that seolhee’s sticker is no longer with you makes you ask, like you the child and seolhee the adult, “can i have another one?”
her voice takes a rare tone of complaint as she grumbles, “i lost the sticker book when i moved back to this ward.”
“that’s a shame” you remark, as genuinely upset as the little girl beside you.
she lets out an endearing little sigh, then pats the back of her hand with her own. “that’s okay, you can look outside whenever you miss me. remember,” seolhee blinks at you earnestly, “i love you more than there are snowflakes falling outside.”
you place your other hand over hers with a hint of a challenging smile. “and if it stops snowing?” you ask, testing the seemingly boundless wisdom that is hidden inside of her.
seolhee beams, answer so clear and obvious. “then count the stars in the sky.”
for the first time in his life, jongho is late.
his, san’s and yeosang’s mornings had all started off a little rough after the latter had rushed past the open door to the bedroom the other two were sleeping in together, dressed in his scrubs and puffer jacket ready to leave, only to double take at the sight of them still in bed. they had been woken up by yeosang’s frantic question, “jongho? don’t you have work today?”
san had groggily lifted his upper body off the bed as jongho jolted into a sitting position, trying to pull himself together. “what?” jongho’s brain had remained foggy no matter how alert he appeared in panic. “what time is it? what day is it today?”
“it’s six thirty,” yeosang had responded, san’s grunts of confirmation affirming the same. alarm had suddenly run through yeosang as doubt creeped into his own mind. “and it’s monday…isn’t it?”
“yeah,” san had confirmed again, voice thick with sleep.
jongho had been certain he did not have work. “i checked the whiteboard last night. my name’s not down for a shift,” he had stated, only to break out into cold sweat immediately afterwards with realisation. you are the only one who goes to all the effort to note down everybody’s shifts for the fortnight on the whiteboard–the very same one that has not been changed since you moved out.
“oh, shit,” jongho had cursed. “i do have work.”
and so for the first time in his life, jongho is late. he knows he only has himself to blame for relying on somebody else for something as important as when he has to show up for work, but for years that is how it has been. not once have you ever made a mistake with the erasable calendar, always taking meticulous care to check that all the shifts for each day are correct because it is the easiest way to help you all keep track of where everybody is for the day.
nobody asks you to update the whiteboard. you just do.
hongjoong realises the same thing in the wake of jongho’s rush to leave the house. he stands in front of the bathroom sink, his eyes half-closed as he brings his toothbrush up to his mouth, only to get a gross mouthful of plain bristles. it is still too early in the morning to swear so he sighs in resignation instead, “not again.”
he pulls the head of the toothbrush back out of his mouth to squeeze a glob of toothpaste on top. it is the third morning in a row that he has done this, still unaccustomed to your absence in the house. on the mornings you leave for work earlier than him–which is most days–you have always pre-squeezed his toothpaste for him, simply because you know it takes a little longer for the cogs in his head to start turning in comparison to your other boys.
hongjoong does not ask you to squeeze his toothpaste for him. you just do.
it is second nature to you, just as it is to hang wooyoung’s keys on the jacket hook by the front door so that he does not upturn the entire house looking for them like he has been for the past fifteen minutes. seonghwa follows hot on the younger’s heels flipping cushions back onto their spots on the couch, shifting trinkets on the kitchen counter back where they belong and closing all the cabinet doors that are swung open haphazardly.
“i never understand why you don’t just put your keys back onto the same hook whenever you get home,” seonghwa exhales.
wooyoung pointedly chooses not to respond to that, instead firmly stating, “i’m telling you, they were on the couch just last night."
“and why would you put them on the couch in the first place?”
“that’s besides the point,” the younger waves his words away carelessly, going back to the couch once more and sliding his hands along the cracks in case they slipped inside.
“how does y/n always manage to find your keys,” seonghwa runs his fingers through his hair.
“i don’t know,” wooyoung suddenly dampens, hands coming to a stop in the middle of the couch as he thinks of you knowing exactly where his keys are in the chaos of the house. “she just…does.”
and there are a lot of other things that you just do. when mingi saunters into the kitchen after dinner, feeling peckish but not for something unhealthy considering it is already close to bedtime, he pokes his nose into the fridge as san washes the dishes. the latter glances over his shoulder.
“you want me to cut you an apple later?” san offers.
mingi nods happily and requests, “without the skin?”
the older laughs, repeating his words, “without the skin.”
when mingi is handed a plate of neat apple slices ten minutes later, he finds himself subconsciously comparing them to the ones you will silently place into his hands after dinner before he even asks for them. san’s slices are the same in appearance–skinned and uniform–except he cuts them into thicker wedges than you do.
mingi takes a bite into one. the apple tastes sweet and tart across his tongue and yet he cannot help but think that the apples taste better when you cut them. whereas san cuts them into six slices, you cut them into nine; just something that you do.
later that night, yunho is again the last one to arrive home after his surgeries run overtime, save for seonghwa and yeosang on night shift. it is pitch black when he enters, bumping not only into the shoe cabinet but also an untucked dining chair as he fumbles his way in with his hands outstretched.
the night light that is usually plugged into the wall of the living room is not on to greet him in the dark hours past midnight today. the light was something you had insisted he buy, absolutely not because the design of the glowing mushroom cap was cute, but because you did not want anybody–read yunho–tripping flat onto their face coming home from a late shift. you are always the one to turn it on if you know one of them will be late, but this time there is no light…because there is no you.
yunho does not ask you to turn the light on for him. you just do. nobody asks you to do any of those small things for them, yet you just do, because that is your way of showing you see, your way of showing you care, and your way of showing you love.
a wave of longing washes over yunho, the sands of his heart already long damp from the moment you moved out. how he wishes he could just walk into your room right now and shelter your peacefully-sleeping form from the shadows of the night with a tender kiss, just like he used to.
but he cannot, not anymore, and he regrets more than anything not doing it while he could.
nurse yejin, the head of the paediatric emergency department, is just about to greet you as you walk up to the nursing station when she takes all but one look at you and points out, “you’re looking like shit this morning.”
from anybody else, that statement would have been insulting despite it being the truth. but nurse yejin has always been frank and blunt, not one to beat around the bush with the intent of getting to the root of problems as efficiently and effectively as possible. ‘head nurse things’, she had told you early on in your rotation.
you let out a laugh in response, although it probably looks like a grimace more than anything. “woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” you joke.
it is only true to a certain extent since you have not been sleeping on a bed but on a couch for the past six days, now counting seven. but ever since you moved out, you have woken up every morning feeling out of routine, standing in the middle of the unfamiliar living room disorientated and wondering whether you usually brush your teeth before changing into your scrubs or after, and whether you usually grab your socks before you pack your bag or right before you leave for work. you do not realise how mentally ingrained into your system your morning routine is, down to the number of steps your feet can take on autopilot and the exact placement of the items your hands can grab without looking, until your environment changes entirely.
the drive to the hospital is also different. it is only ten minutes longer than your usual commute and the streets all look similar under the covering of snow, yet it still throws you off, setting the tone as such for the remainder of the day.
this morning had been no exception–arguably worse–when you realised with frustration that you had no more clean scrubs to change into. you had forgotten to run a load of laundry the day before, leaving you with no choice but to borrow your friend’s clothes that were presentable enough for you to wear to work until you could change into a set of the hospital’s spare scrubs.
forgetting to do your laundry is no rare occurrence but it has never been an issue. how many times had you opened your wardrobe, uncertain whether you would find a set of wearable scrubs, only to be surprised by an ironed and neatly-hung set waiting for you? it has never been an issue until now, as realisation dawns upon you that one of your boyfriends has always looked out for you by ensuring you always had clean scrubs for work.
“you better snap out of it quick then, doctor l/n,” nurse yejin advises, words pulling you back to the present. “we have a thirteen-year-old male arriving in a few minutes with a first-time generalised tonic-clonic seizure. episode lasted for six minutes, now postictal but stable.”
your mind immediately shifts, focus zeroing in on the length of the seizure as the head nurse continues to provide you a handover of the paramedic’s call. you instruct, “notify the fellow or resident currently on call in paediatric neurology. tell them to be ready for immediate assessment.”
nurse yejin nods and reaches for the phone as you walk off briskly to prepare for the patient’s arrival. from behind, she watches you with a slight smirk of pride because there you are; fire lit up in your eyes once again. only, it is nowhere near as intense as it used to be.
for fire, too, has a life of its own. it is able to burn and burn and burn, engulfing whatever it can within its vicinity in order to keep itself alive and bright. but even the strongest of fires will eventually burn out into nothing but a wither of smoke if it does receive enough fuel to keep it sustained, whether sourced by itself or provided by those around it.
“you’re not eating?” your intern asks you, hours later.
you turn your head slightly towards her to show she has your attention, but you keep your eyes glued to the screen as you rapidly type up the notes for the seizure patient from this morning. “you go have lunch first,” you respond distractedly, not having realised it was already past one thirty. “i’ll eat in a bit.”
only, when it comes to three o’clock, a wrench having been thrown into the works by a sudden code blue, you realise you do not have a lunch to eat. “fuck,” you curse at yourself, hands digging into your bag once more in hopes of finding a stray protein bar. you knew you should have thrown in a couple of them last night while it was on your mind.
just like your scrubs, your lunch has never been an issue for you until now. once more, realisation is forced upon you as you wonder why not; san has always had an uncanny sixth sense that somehow alerts him each time you forget to stuff your lunchbox into your bag so that he can do it in your stead. on the days you forget and he leaves earlier than you, hongjoong is there to take it to work, personally finding you on the wards to deliver it to you.
sometimes, your lunch will be packed in a different container. when wooyoung makes a heavily-spiced or greasier dish, he portions some to cook with less chilli or seasoning specifically for you to take to work the next day because he knows your stomach is sensitive, especially when you are stressed or fatigued. today though, you have no choice but to grab something from the cafeteria.
even the instant coffee you quickly brew for yourself tastes particularly unpalatable and sand-like, a tricky feat considering how rock-bottom the standard already is. jongho has always somehow managed to make it taste bearable if he does not have time to order freshly-brewed coffee from the cafe. you think that maybe it is because he takes the extra minute that you do not to properly pre-dissolve the powder in some boiling water before diluting the coffee with the rest of the water. and jongho does do that, except the reality is that it tastes better simply because he is making it for you.
you find your mind incessantly churning as your day continues in a similar manner–sudden awareness of all the different ways your boyfriends have been looking out for you. it shadows you from the hospital back to your friend’s apartment, which is pitch black when you get back after your shift. your friend had texted you earlier that she would be out drinking with friends and unlikely to return before the morning, so when you unlock the door, you are greeted by nothing but deafening silence and apocalyptic stillness.
using the display of your lockscreen to illuminate a path, you toe off your shoes and sluggishly trudge into the living room. you have never come home to complete blackness before–one of your boyfriends, usually yunho, has always made sure to keep a night light on for you. but this time, the lonely gloom of your friend’s apartment beckons to you in a way that is hauntingly comforting. so instead of turning its lights on, you sit down heavily on the couch in the darkness.
the night seems colder than usual.
you lean back onto the cushions of the couch and stare blankly at the ceiling above. the display on your phone dims before turning off from idleness. as if your body takes it as a cue to do the same, you close your eyes and slowly exhale, muscles deflating into the couch as the silence spreads over your body like the gradual creep of water freezing.
just what exactly are you doing? what is it that you need?
did you simply need an opportunity to just be yourself, away from those who you felt the need to always be a perfectly happy and positive y/n around? or did you need space to reconsider the state of your relationship with the boys? maybe it was never even about the relationships in the first place, but that you had no way of isolating yourself from work so you chose the next best option to cut yourself off from.
perhaps, you really just wanted to continue running away and hiding from a greater problem that you do not want to acknowledge.
a wetness builds up behind your eyelids, confused and overwhelmed by the fact itself that you still cannot make sense of your emotions. maybe it is because there is no one answer but that all of them are answers, because no matter what you try to do or where you try to run, you cannot seem to rid the bone-deep exhaustion that continues to crush and constrict your soul.
however, there is one thing you are certain of after today. having spent so many days away from the boys and your normal routine, only now do you realise just how many subtle routines there are that intertwine you all together. some you only notice because of the change it has brought upon this week; others long known because they ceased to occur.
but seolhee’s words resonate within you. yes, some of those routines had disappeared, but like the snow, it does not change the fact that they existed in the first place. the commonality that all of the routines share–whether it be those you had previously been so hung up about dwindling or those you are only just becoming conscious of–is that they are all routines of love.
and like the golden warmth of the sun during the frigid bitterness of winter, you do not learn to truly appreciate something until it becomes absent from your life.
sometimes, you wonder what the end of the world will be like.
you wonder how it happens; whether it would be instantaneous, one second everybody going about their everyday life then the next second everything gone, people’s last moments still in blissful ignorance as to what has become of them and the world; or whether it would be gradual, an agonisingly slow and painful wait as inevitable doom creeps closer, no better than mercifully taking your own life.
you wonder what you would feel; fear for what will be or resignation for what is to be? regret for what had been or grief for what will not be? you wonder how you would realise, where you would be the moment it happens, who would come to mind first, why the world would be ending.
you have wondered so much and yet, you would have never expected to experience a part of your world ending through a phone call, your ringtone jarring and eerie in the late hours past midnight, jolting you awake on an unfamiliar couch to the sight of an equally unfamiliar ceiling. it takes you a few seconds to process the sound, disoriented from having accidentally fallen asleep still in your scrubs with no recollection of the last few hours.
by the time your fingers fumble across your phone, it has already stopped ringing. squinting, you turn the screen on. there are fresh notifications at the top of your screen showing two missed calls, but before you can process who they are from, the silent living room is disturbed by the piercing sound of your ringtone once again.
it is only seonghwa who is calling but an unsettling shift in the air abruptly makes the hair along your skin rise. something is wrong. you pick up.
“...hwa?”
“hey, love,” your boyfriend responds carefully. “where–are you at your friend’s place right now?”
you sit up on the couch and adjust the phone closer towards your ear with both hands. “yeah…i am.”
you can hear seonghwa take a shaky exhale before answering, “i think you might want to come to the hospital.”
blood rushes to your ears and your breath hitches. “why?” you whisper out, voice barely audible as your clutch on your phone tightens.
he does not answer you immediately. it is not until you choke out your question once more, voice urgent and desperate, that he breaks. seonghwa's tone is solemn, hesitance to speak louder than a waterfall, and never would you have thought that it would only take something as simple as his next two words for you to experience what feels like the end of the world.
“it’s seolhee.”
the room spins around from under your feet. you suddenly find yourself blindly groping the surface of the kitchen countertop, having stumbled your way across the dark living room. the phone call has ended–you cannot recall whether you hung up on seonghwa or whether he hung up on you, or whether it is actually still ongoing, his concerned shouts of your name simply falling upon deaf ears.
your breathing becomes increasingly shallow but you do not start crying. your expression remains stonily frozen as you frantically feel and search the countertop with your hands, uncaring of the ruckus and mess you are making. you are looking for something. what are you looking for? you need something. you need to bring something, but what? keys. you need to bring your keys. you need keys. you need your car keys. car keys, so you can drive to the hospital. you need to drive to the hospital because seolhee is there. you need to get to the hospital and you need to drive and you need your keys, where are your keys? you need your keys.
something cold brushes against the side of your pinky and immediately you snatch it up. you rush to the front door, toeing on the first thing that feels like a pair of shoes, then yank the door open before they are properly on your feet. you have no time. your leg jitters and your finger repeatedly jabs the elevator button as you watch the display numbers of the floor slowly move upwards towards yours. please, you beg to whichever higher entity is willing to listen to you, please, i have no time.
the moment the doors start to crack open, you force your way into the elevator. the doors cannot close fast enough and you pace in restless circles in the enclosed space while it takes you down to the underground carpark. your feet have already exited the threshold of the elevator before the doors even fully open again and your frantic steps reverberate loudly in the echo of the parking lot as you sprint for your car.
“y/n!”
you almost miss the yell of your name in your distraught, but your steps falter at the last moment, slowing down only slightly to turn in the direction of the sound. there is no time to question what you see. mingi is there, rapidly closing the distance between the two of you.
he stands in front of you within seconds and his chest heaves with effort and adrenaline. you feel your face crumpling as you instinctively and automatically reach out for him. mingi catches your hands, letting you squeeze his own in panic even if your nails dig into his skin.
“mingi, seonghwa–seolhee, she–the hospital–”
“i know,” mingi nods quickly, gently shushing your unintelligible blabber, “i know. let’s get you to the hospital.”
he envelops your hand in his and tugs you along behind him towards his car. you want to urge him to run, but he maintains a steady pace until he can pull the car door open and guide you into the seat. mingi can feel your anxiety rolling off in waves as he rounds the front of the car to the driver’s seat and he knows how desperate you are for him to hurry up and floor the pedal, but he also knows that feeding into your panic with his own will only make things worse.
mingi drives as fast as he can without speeding too dangerously, although he cuts it close with a few red lights. the two of you sit in loud silence the entire ride. your boyfriend glances over at you every now and then, brows furrowed with concern, but you remain motionless with your eyes fixed to the road in front despite the erratic rhythm of your heartbeat.
“y/n–” your boyfriend cuts himself off upon arriving at the hospital, where you tumble out of the car the moment it jerks to a stop. he is not quick enough to grab you as he puts the car into park and he fumbles to undo his own seatbelt whilst you are already weaving your way towards the sliding doors to the elevator.
you run. never before in your life have you ever run with such sheer desperation. one after the other, the soles of your shoes strike against the ceramic tiles of the lobby before they become thuds against the vinyl flooring of the wards.
the past month, you have walked this exact path almost every single day; you have seen stretchers being rushed in, and parents and family members forcibly pulled away from the side of their loved ones to make way for immediate medical assistance from doctors like you. but today, you are on the other side–you are the one rushing into the paediatric ED dishevelled and crazed, uncaring of how you look to the rest of the world.
“seolhee,” you mutter to yourself, pace slowing to an unsteady stumble as you twist and turn to find her familiar smile. “seolhee, where are you?”
nurse yejin spots you and rushes up to grasp you by the elbow. “doctor l/n,” she urges with wide eyes, “she came in as a code blue. she's in the resus bay but she–”
your blood runs cold and the rest of nurse yejin's words become a muffled fuzz in your ear along with the surrounding clamour of the ED, replaced instead by a high-pitched ringing that reverberates throughout your entire skull. gaze unfocused, you sway as your feet slowly pivot in the direction of the resus bay. nurse yejin’s outstretched hand falls to her side and she watches you helplessly, your shoes shuffling with contradictory urgency and hesitancy towards the sliding glass doors.
around you, the commotion of the ward blurs away, your vision narrowing into a pinprick tunnel the closer you get. seonghwa tries to reach for you when you pass by him and some of your colleagues near the doors, but you continue shambling forward as if you are possessed, mind and body completely blind to his presence and touch. you do not stop until you reach the doors. slowly, you bring your hands up to rest on the cool surface as you press yourself closer and look inside.
it’s a code blue, you think to yourself in a state of trance and stupored confusion at the scene that unfolds before your eyes, but why is nobody resuscitating seolhee? why is nobody helping her? why isn’t anybody doing anything?
“seolhee,” you whisper vaguely, right hand weakly hitting the glass. then again, you call out her name, this time with more urgency. “seolhee.”
you hit the glass once more, then a third time but harder yet. “seolhee!” you shout, both hands now fisted and pounding against the glass in distress. “seolhee! somebody save her!”
hands start to pull you back but you do not register any of them nor are they strong enough to draw you away from the doors. the anguished cries of your name are left unheard, but despite the wildness of your crazed desperation, your mind vaguely registers the few words that somehow manage to break through. the sounds are warped and distorted as if you are continuously being thrust underwater then hauled upwards over and over again, but it is enough for you to piece them together.
“cardiac arrest…multi-organ failure–” “–terminal lucidity–” “–time of death–”
your body nearly topples over as you freeze under the resistance of those around you, jostling around limply in the crowd of limbs. all of a sudden, you are wrenched out of the water and your chest convulses trying to gasp for air. the noise of the ED and the shouts around you flood back into your ears like a tsunami, except it comes from every direction imaginable with force that has multiplied infinitely and pulverises your entire soul.
you cannot stay here any longer. you run.
you run wherever your feet take you and you do not stop, even when your lungs and your legs begin to sear at the same intensity as the inferno that currently incinerates your heart. lurching up stairs after stairs after stairs, you run and run and run until you burst through the doors to the rooftop of the hospital where your chest takes in a heaving inhale. the piercing temperature of the air leaves your system shocked and breathless and you stumble over to the ground.
there is nothing to break your fall in every sense, so there, on your hands and knees at your absolute lowest in the stinging cold of the hospital rooftop, you finally shatter into smithereens. it starts off as a tremble of your lips and a quiver of your chin, a choked stutter of breath as your eyebrows crumple and your eyes blink back the growing heat behind them. but then a small cry of pain leaves you and you lean back heavily onto your feet before your hands fist the material of your scrubs. your skin turns white as you clench and rock yourself back and forth, breathing erratic and sobs increasing in volume until they are long, soulful wails.
your entire body convulses uncontrollably with each gut-wrenching cry that leaves you. the world around you blurs away from the tears that fall down your face and your head pounds with lightheadedness. you hit your chest with an agonised fist, again and again, harder and harder, because you would rather feel any physical pain than the shattering crevice in your heart.
you are suddenly jostled by a strong pair of arms wrapping around your upper body. they tuck you firmly into their chest, a hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you from hurting yourself any further and the other pressing your head against the warmth of their neck.
they shush you repetitively with soothing rocks back and forth. as they comfort you, their own voice cracks from their constricted throat, “i’ve got you, y/n. just cry.” only then do you hazily register it as seonghwa’s voice. seonghwa, who was just as close to seolhee as you, understands the pain that is breaking you apart and is here to hold you through it.
you cannot rid the image of seolhee’s last smile out of your head–her excitement to go home for christmas, her cheery confession of how much she loves you. you fist the front of seonghwa’s scrubs and weep, “it hurts, seonghwa. why does it hurt so much?”
he rests his cheek against the top of your head, his own tears falling freely and dripping down to join yours on the snowy floor in bittersweet harmony. as doctors and nurses, grieving for patients is a luxury that cannot be afforded for every single life that is lost. grief is a weakness in the medical field because you cannot look back–you can only look forward and do your best to make sure there are no more lives that are lost.
but you forget that grief is not a weakness as a person, and you are human first and foremost before you are doctors and nurses. sometimes, it becomes a necessity to grieve before you can keep moving forward.
“i know, love,” seonghwa brushes his hand over your hair as he tries to keep his voice from breaking. “grief is the price you pay for loving somebody.”
because unfortunately, life comes with transactions and between two people, there will always be one person who must pay the price of love.
you close your eyes, gritting your teeth when your face crumples again and a fresh bout of sobs escapes through your lips. seonghwa presses his lips to the crown of your forehead, resting them there while you shake in his arms. eventually, he murmurs into your hair, “you want to know what seolhee’s mother told me once?”
your answer is in the form of more anguished cries but you hang onto every word that comes out of your boyfriend’s mouth like they are your lifeline. the corners of seonghwa’s lips tug upwards with mournful nostalgia as he tells you, “she’s always wanted to thank you for loving her daughter as if she is your own…so it’s okay–it’s normal for you to hurt so badly, because you love seolhee and the more you love somebody, the greater the price you pay.”
seonghwa’s unconscious choice of phrasing–that you love her, not that you loved her–simultaneously cradles and crushes your heart. it is an exact reflection of the last conversation you had with seolhee. snow may melt, but it does not change the fact that snowflakes flutter down from the sky. seolhee may be gone, but it does not change the fact that you love and remember her.
“seolhee’s last wish was fulfilled,” seonghwa softly murmurs, pulling out his phone from his pocket to turn the screen on. the light hurts your sensitive eyes when you try to make out the display through your fuzzy vision and you can just barely make out what looks to be the time on his lockscreen. he explains, “it’s four thirty am…that makes it christmas already. not only was she able to spend some time at home with her family again, but now she gets to spend the rest of her christmas back where she came from–”
your boyfriend pulls away slightly and tilts your head up tenderly with his fingers. you see him properly for the first time tonight. his eyes are just as red and swollen as yours are, cheeks wet and glistening despite the small smile he gives you when you finally look at him. he finishes, “–the sky, with all the other beautiful angels just like her.”
you slowly follow his gaze upwards. once more, a wounded cry breaks free at the sight that greets you. it no longer snows, the thin blanket of snowflakes covering the ground and the rooftop the only traces left and already steadily melting away. but that is not what makes you sob even harder.
the skies above you are filled with an endless expanse of stars, shining and gleaming no matter where your eyes look. there are thousands upon millions of stars, too many to begin counting even if you were to stand on the rooftop for numerous lifetimes.
the heavens cried in the form of the first snow when seolhee was born, for they lost her to the world. but tonight they rejoice, for their precious angel has returned soaring through the starry skies. and even amidst her joy of freedom–from the shackles of pain and suffering–seolhee remembers to tell you that she loves you more than you can fathom.
more than you can count the stars in the sky.
you jolt awake confused and disorientated for the second day in a row. only, this time it is not a jerk-induced reaction to your ringtone but a sudden thrust into consciousness by the feeling that you have overslept.
shit, what time is it? i have work.
the rising flood of panic in your chest is immediately quelled when you spot a scrap of paper on your bedside table, handwriting printed neatly in the centre.
hongjoong took sick leave for you today. don’t worry about work and go back to sleep after you take the painkillers.
that is when you register the fucking terrible headache you are sporting and you let out an involuntary groan as you press a hand to your temple. your other hand grabs the two tablets and you down them with the glass of water beside the paper.
groggily, you pat the mattress around you in search of your phone to look at the time. apart from the dim glow of your bedside lamp, the curtains to your left are drawn shut in your room, making it impossible to discern whether it is the morning, afternoon or night. the numbers blink back at you when you turn the screen on and you find that you have slept past lunchtime. confusion swirls inside of you with an unusual mix of something else. taking the day off work is not the only thing that is off.
wait.
your head jerks to the left, then to the right, then down at your bedding–the blue-grey colour familiar and soft to the touch. you are in your room–your room room, back at your place with the boys. you turn your phone on again and check the date. it is christmas.
and then it hits you.
it is still christmas. it is still the same day as what now feels like a vivid fever dream. you can only recall bits and pieces, so hazy and yet so evocative at the same time. it is like trying to make sense of an optical illusion; it disappears when you think about it too directly, but the moment you take your mind off it even slightly, it is right there in your peripheral vision, begging for your attention.
you remember being woken up by seonghwa’s phone call and your desperation to get to the hospital. you remember mingi driving you there and then sprinting towards the ED. you remember breaking down on the hospital’s rooftop after finding out that seolhee had…
your fingers pinch the inside of your left wrist to stop yourself from finishing the memory. with an unsteady exhale, all tension is lost from your body and you fall back to slump against the headboard. grief starts to take over you once more, vice tightening its grasp around your heart but simultaneously leaving a cavernous hollowness and numbness in your chest.
that is how wooyoung finds you an hour later, still staring blankly at the bedroom wall across from you and swimming in muddy water. he had only tentatively knocked twice on your door before entering, half-expecting you to still be asleep and making a soft noise of surprise when he finds that you are not. in the back of your mind, you vaguely feel a twinge of guilt at not having the energy to do something as simple as greet him as he sits carefully on the edge of your bed.
but wooyoung is a persistent soul and an even more persistent lover. he has learnt from experience that sometimes, asking anything but what he truly wants to ask is what you actually need. wooyoung catches himself from gazing sadly at you, putting on a small smile instead as he lays a hand over your thigh. his touch is warm through the blanket.
“should i bring in some food for you? there’s dumpling soup,” he tells you. “or do you want to go to the living room? we can put on a movie.”
it is hard to find the words to answer him–hard to even hum or nod or shake your head in response. your fingers twitch slightly in the direction of wooyoung’s hand still on your thigh and he immediately moves it to place over yours. the rhythmic touch of his thumb brushing back and forth over your skin is soothing.
“we don’t have to talk. we can just sit for a bit,” he offers.
the room settles into silence for a while as he gives you time to decide. finally, you ask, voice quiet, “who’s home?”
wooyoung wriggles a little closer with restrained excitement at your response. “all of us are.” when you blink at him in reaction, he understands your question immediately because none of you can remember the last time the nine of you had a day off together, much less on a christmas. he explains, “we all took whatever personal leave we could.”
“the hospital let?” you frown slightly, the tone of disbelief the most amount of emotion you have shown so far.
wooyoung mirrors the minute increase in animation with cheek in his vague shrug, “they can’t afford to fire any of us. plus…i think we’ve all realised that some things are more important than work.”
you are more important than work; ‘us’ is more important than work.
something tugs at your heartstrings and you sit up a little straighter. looking at wooyoung, a slight spark of resolve lighting up in your eyes, you slowly suggest, “can we…have a talk?”
he is taken aback with pleasant surprise as he answers, “of course we can. we don’t have to do it today though.”
“no,” you shake your head, “let’s talk now.”
while we still can. before it becomes too late. plus, who knows when the next time all of you are together like this will be.
so you follow wooyoung out of your bed and then out of your room, his fingers intertwined between yours as he walks the both of you into the living room. it is a lie to say that it is not awkward seeing everybody’s heads turn towards you in simultaneity and your knee-jerk response is to dismiss their poorly-concealed concern with a wave of your hand and an, ‘i’m fine’. but you think you have had enough of that–enough of pretending and enough of pushing them away.
yunho opens his arms from his seat on the couch, eyes hopeful. you push away any second thoughts and bury yourself against him. your boyfriend pulls you right into his chest whilst tucking your legs off the ground over his thighs and he murmurs against your temple, “you sleep okay?”
you nod into his neck as jongho asks, “did you take the painkillers?” and seonghwa questions, “do you want dumplings?”
a small puff of amusement comes out of your chest because just mere weeks ago, perhaps even one, questions like these would have fanned an inexplicable inferno inside of you. now, it all seems so long ago, but it does not change the fact that you are apologetic about it–apologetic about a lot of things.
“i took them, thanks jongho. and maybe later, hwa,” you respond softly. “come sit?”
the boys heed to your words immediately and the oldest of your boyfriends crosses the living room in three large strides to take your other side on the couch, the rest of them settling on the adjacent couch or on the floor. the shared warmth from being sandwiched between seonghwa and yunho immediately envelops you in comfort and safety and your body relaxes into the shape of theirs.
you do not know where to start, much less what you even want to say to the boys now that you are here with them. there are masses of things to unpack and each one seems like such a colossal mountain to climb. some you do not know the route up, others you know the route up but not the way back down, and the rest you cannot even see the mountaintop. so you choose to start easy: at the very bottom of the trail where it is safe.
“i miss having clean scrubs,” you blurt out, “and i miss the lunches that wooyoung cooks and the coffees that jongho makes.”
from beside you, yunho’s body rumbles with low laughter at your unexpected conversation starter and he glances down at you fondly. his voice is soothing in your ear as he says, “we miss seeing your night light greet us whenever we come home.”
“and the changes you make on our whiteboard calendar,” yeosang adds.
“we struggled to remember our shifts without you keeping track of them,” jongho divulges sheepishly.
yeosang tattles with a giggle, “he was late for work for the first time.”
“yeah,” you smile, “i heard.”
jongho huffs out before quipping, “at least i still knew how to squeeze my own toothpaste and find my own car keys.”
both hongjoong and wooyoung curse indignantly at the uncalled-for betrayal of the youngest as he pointedly ignores them and continues, “some of us have realised we have non-existent survival skills without you.”
“oh, speak for yourself,” san nudges him endearingly.
but you are more than grateful for the lightening of the mood because you do not think you would have the courage to otherwise abruptly apologise, “i’m sorry that i took so many things for granted.”
“what? no,” san counters, the first of many others to parrot the same thing. “we’re sorry about that too. when you moved out, we also realised just how many things you do for us without our appreciation. you raised a valid concern because our relationship with one another is something we have all become too complacent about.”
yunho squeezes you a little tighter with the arm he has around your shoulders. he muses, “it’s easy for a long-term relationship to become less ‘exciting’, but we forget that part of the reason is because we simply become so attuned to one another’s likes and dislikes, preferences and habits that it becomes our own second nature to do those things naturally. it isn’t that we love each other less, it’s just that we become so used to the way we love and are loved that we stop noticing it.”
your mind drifts slightly to a sweet, little girl with a bright smile, telling you that relationships are not always about the grand gestures, but rather the small things. she always did know better than you.
“in saying that though,” hongjoong brings up, “as important as it is for us to start appreciating all of those things again, i think it’s just as important for us to put in the conscious effort to go out of our way to have quality time and conversations with one another, like going on dates.”
wooyoung cackles, “that’s a bit rich coming from you, mister sorry-i-forgot-about-our-date,” and a snort comes out of you despite yourself.
the older flips him off. on both hands.
now occupied with his handsy insults, seonghwa takes over the conversation instead, “no relationship is perfect. they all need mutual effort to maintain and it definitely won’t be easy, especially since so many of you are nearing the end of your residency. it’ll be a busy few months preparing for the board exam and there’ll be plenty of hurdles to jump over in the future too, but things will work out because we’ve got each other’s backs now.”
the boys all smile affectionately at one another and at you. seonghwa presses a loving kiss against your temple and you bathe in the brief feeling of everything being okay before you remind yourself that it still is not. “on that note,” you start cautiously, “i owe you all another apology.”
you catch the gaze of mingi’s soft expression from opposite you, who gives you a small nod and a minute smile of encouragement. with an exhale, you admit, “the way i handled everything–not just moving out but everything leading up to that–i know you were all trying to look out for me and i shouldn’t have pushed you all away the way that i did. i just–everything was so overwhelming and confusing and tiring, and i wanted to work things out by myself because all of you had enough things to deal with, and i…”
once more, you are unsure of what you want to communicate. you are sick of not knowing and not understanding and your eyes start to water with frustration.
at your sentence trailing off, mingi finally speaks up, “life isn’t meant to be smooth sailing, y/n. yes, they’re your feelings, but that doesn’t mean that they have to make sense to you.”
and it is as if that is the validation you have needed all along, because the vice around your chest finally loosens its grip. you can breathe again and the rush of oxygen into your lungs without a heavy weight crushing you inwards is liberating.
“as healthcare workers, we become accustomed to seeing other people in the most painful moments of their lives.” mingi gently shrugs his shoulders, “we become accustomed to invalidating our own feelings. it doesn’t matter if we’re having a bad day; there will always be somebody else having the worst day of their lives. but we forget that pain is not relative–just because somebody else is hurting ‘more’, it doesn’t make our own hurt hurt less.
“and yeah, work is always going to be shitty and we’re always going to run ourselves ragged chasing after time, and then coming home from work to eight of us is going to be tiring too,” he chuckles softly. “but y/n…i think part of the reason why it’s been so hard for you is because you never let yourself have time for yourself. you never let yourself be tired or be hurt.”
you swallow your objections–the voice inside of you that says you shouldn’t and the voice that says you can’t–because you know mingi is right. you just needed to hear that you should and that you can.
he continues, “we all need quiet time away from other people and that’s okay. we spend all day showing our patients, their families and our colleagues the best side of ourselves, which means that a lot of the times we only have the…” mingi scratches the side of his head as he finds a way to express his thoughts without saying ‘the ugly side’, because that is far from what it is. “we only have the side of ourselves that we do not like as much because it isn’t what we view as ‘perfect’. but it simply holds our realest emotions–fatigue, stress, worry, frustration, impatience. it is not just you who has that side–we all do and we understand better than anybody how guilty it can feel when that is the only side that is left by the time we get home.”
there is a brief pause in the conversation as he lets the words sink in. around you, heads and gazes lower alike to the floor because that guilt is something that resounds with everybody in the room. you continue to look at mingi, though, unable to avert your eyes as his solace finally stirs the cathartic release of tears flowing freely from your heart to your eyes.
“like i said, it’s okay to take time away from us; in your room or out with your friends or somewhere else. but at the same time, i want you to know that it doesn’t make us love you any less if you don’t come home happy. you don’t love us any less when we’re unable to leave our baggage at work, because you have the same struggles. in fact, you are often the first to offer to share the load.
“as doctors and nurses, we have signed up for a lifetime of baggage and sacrifice. and that is exactly why it is that much more important for you to know that home is your safe space.” mingi gazes at you with all the earnesty in his heart. “we are your safe space where you can share your baggage. we might not be able to take it off you, but we sure as hell can curse or laugh or cry together over it, and sometimes, just that is already enough to help you keep carrying its weight over whatever mountain you are facing.”
from beside mingi, san watches you with a clenching heart. in an ideal world, san would rather you have no baggage at all and he be your only mountain–the one who shields you from the harsh elements of the world and is your unwavering presence from sunrise till sunset and yet again till the following sunrise. he sees the way you finally lower your head and let months of repressed tears fall in front of them, soft sobs in yunho and seonghwa’s comforting arms and the rest of your boyfriends within reach.
but san knows your tears are no longer ones of pain or fatigue, so for now, that is enough. he scooches closer across the floor until he is at your feet, peering up at you from between the strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face. tenderly, he asks, “y/n, will you move back in with us?”
a warm hand brushes over your cheeks. it could be san, it could be seonghwa, it could be yunho or it could be any of them. but it does not really matter. what matters is this: in order to love others, you must first love yourself–
“yeah,” you slowly nod, “i will.”
–and part of loving yourself is letting others love you. there is no place like home, much less a place like where your boys are. snow melts, but it will always fall again. without fail.
as your boyfriends all shuffle closer and envelop you in the middle of an embrace that is long overdue, loving warmth dizzying to the touch, outside the windows the first snowflake of many others flutters its graceful path down from the sky. soon, snow will cover the streets as far as the eye can see.
nobody talks about how ironic it feels to work in the hospital during the holidays, particularly christmas.
in any other establishment that is open, be it a restaurant, cafe, retail store or convenience mart, employees are greeted kindly with festive cheer–warm wishes and sincere smiles from one stranger to another. but nobody walks into the hospital on christmas with laughter and gratitude for the assistance of the doctors and nurses, because nobody wants to be at the hospital.
nobody plans to spend the day there, either.
but that is exactly why it is ironic. the hospital is a symbol of misery, the white colour of its interior the embodiment of sterility and detachment all year round–all except for a few days. on christmas eve, christmas itself and perhaps even the rest of the week leading up to the new year, the corridors are adorned with never-ending lengths of glittering tinsel, the wards are filled with the low hum of christmas carols on a looping playlist, and the staff all wear silly scrubs with rudolph faces and dancing santas on them.
there is an underlying hum of excitement and festive cheer that overrides the usual despondency of the hospital as everybody pretends it does not exist, even if just for a few days. the electric buzz thrums not just in the air at work but outside of work too, filling households with a hustle and bustle of liveliness–yours included.
“hongjoong!” you yell as you knock on the bathroom door, “we’re leaving in a few minutes!”
you press yourself flat against the door as yunho races past you with several pairs of socks in both hands despite the ones he already has on his own feet. he skids to a wobbly stop and shuffles backwards two steps to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek.
“gross,” you laugh, pretending to wipe it off your face, but yunho is already skedaddling off again back towards his destination of the living room, on a mission to deliver the socks to your other boyfriends.
ever since you, yunho, yeosang and san all passed the board exam and became fully licensed doctors like hongjoong, your shifts have been significantly more consistent. it is much easier for you and your boyfriends to drive to work together in fewer cars, making the mornings before work significantly more chaotic. your wake-up times and subsequent bathroom usage is no longer as staggered as it was with different start times and several more night shifts, but it is a good chaotic–a bright and lively chaotic.
hongjoong yells back at you, “my hair gel isn’t hair gel-ing!” and you nearly topple onto him when he suddenly pulls the bathroom door open.
his hair is swept up neatly away from his forehead and there is not a single strand that is out of place. you chuckle and tell him as such, “your hair looks perfect, joong,” but you know his nerves are due to something completely different. you cup his jaw and gently pull him towards you for a kiss before you encourage, “you’ll do great today. you already presented at the korean neurological association earlier this year–what’s a seminar to the hospital staff in comparison?”
your boyfriend groans, “i know these people though. they’re all my colleagues.”
“and all of these colleagues will be wearing their ugly christmas sweaters or have stupid antler headbands with glowing lights on top of their heads. trust me, you’ll do amazing,” you reassure, pressing another chaste kiss against his lips to quieten his worries.
“y/n! hongjoong!” yeosang hollers.
“coming!”
you pull hongjoong out of the bathroom with you hand in hand, only letting go when you both fumble to catch the socks that yunho chucks through the air in your directions. within the next few minutes, there are playful elbows, harmless shoves and childish curses as you all cram yourselves in the corridor to put on your shoes and walk out the door to the car.
as you squish into the backseat with hongjoong and yeosang, yunho in the driver’s seat and san beside him, the latter wonders what you should all do after work. by some christmas miracle, neither you nor any of your boys have been scheduled for a night shift today, which means that if there are no hiccups at work, the nine of you will be able to spend christmas together once more.
you like to think that your guardian angel is still looking out for you, even an entire year later.
“should we try to make a reservation for a nice restaurant?” san suggests. “or should we stay up and watch a movie together?”
hongjoong proposes, “i have a friend who works at a pretty decent french restaurant if we want to go there.”
voicing your opinion without prefacing it with an apology is still something you are working on, but you have gotten much better at communicating over the year. you pipe up, “i’d prefer to stay at home tonight, but the movie sounds like a good idea. maybe we can go to your friend’s restaurant for new year’s?”
“yeah, i don’t really fancy going out tonight either,” yeosang agrees. “but new year’s, definitely.”
san nods enthusiastically. “i’ll let the rest of the boys know,” he says, then sends a question for movie recommendations for tonight into the group chat.
it is not long after that yunho pulls into the hospital’s car park where you all pile out and wait obediently by a nearby pillar as he backs the car into a particularly tight space. when he has turned the ignition off and carefully squeezed himself out without slamming the door into the car beside him, it is his turn to wait obediently as you all thank him with a quick hug or peck on the cheek.
you grasp the collar of his coat and pull him down to give him a teasing kiss on the forehead but he tiptoes instead to make it harder for you. in retaliation, you quickly jab his side and he immediately keels over enough for you to plant a triumphant kiss on his face. the boys chuckle around you, yunho pretending to nurse his wounds as he stumbles after all of you into the elevator.
the doors close and he straightens to offhandedly comment, “you guys thank me for driving every single time.”
yeosang shoots back with the same nonchalance, “because we’re thankful every single time.”
yunho claps his hand over his mouth and looks at the younger out of the corner of his eyes, but it is clear that he is hiding a bashful grin behind his fingers. the expression is not lost to any of you, your displays of gratefulness always done with the intention of making one another feel appreciated for even the smallest of things, because you have all learnt that a simple thank you goes a long way.
“see you all after work,” hongjoong says, stepping out into the lobby with the rest of you following him to let those waiting for the elevator get in.
just as you all turn to walk off your separate ways to your respective departments, he calls out as an afterthought, uncaring of the people around, “merry christmas, babes!”
you reciprocate his words with a laugh, a tinkling, cheery sound that makes san reach out for your hand and intertwine your fingers together to pull you in for a quick kiss of endearment. “choi san!” you giggle, slapping him lightly and looking around to see if anybody noticed.
if there is one thing that has changed the most over the year, it is how daring your boyfriends have become with public displays of affection. but, just as wooyoung has made it a point to remind you all of his newfound motto, what is the hospital going to do? fire all nine of you?
highly unlikely.
“alright, babes,” san tugs you along teasingly, “let’s get to work.” pinkies intertwined and swinging gently between your bodies, the two of you walk towards the same department, letting go only at the last moment to lead your morning rounds.
there is a running joke that it does not matter if you end up having enough children to make an entire soccer team because almost half of you are now fully licensed to work with children; you and san as doctors, seonghwa and wooyoung as nurses. there is no need to worry about ageing either, not when the other five are each in charge of their own specialties too.
you and your boys do not work at a hospital–you and your boys are the hospital. and it certainly feels that way when there is almost always at least one of them watching over you, regardless of wherever you are in the paediatric department.
it is later that day as you are attending to a three-week-old baby in the NICU when a second-year resident walks up to you, addressing you carelessly. immediately, you feel wooyoung’s ears perk up and watchful eyes zero in on the offending resident as the both of you recognise the younger.
“good to see you’ve stuck with paediatrics, doctor lim,” you greet neutrally. it is anything but good to see him still in the medical program at all, but you digress.
your past intern ignores your comment, confidence through the roof not only because he has somebody backing him up but because he is now a second-year resident. he shortly says, “doctor nam wants you taking over the shift for the NICU attending tonight.”
the department head has more or so left you alone for the last few months, but you guess he suddenly felt a christmas urge to scratch an itch that never existed in the first place. your expression remains impartial as you ask, “for what reason?”
dr. lim is unable to hide the brief flash of surprise across his face, not having expected you to put up a fight. he quickly scowls, “do as you’re told.”
you will not, in fact, ‘do as you’re told’, not when dr. nam is blatantly abusing his power to assign you a shift without a proper justification or notice–and through dr. lim at that too. you sure hope wooyoung can hear you as you respond sarcastically, “tell doctor nam to notify me of this change in schedule through an email from the chief resident. i’m sure he’s familiar with the proper procedure that i’m referring to.”
“i’ll make sure to tell him,” dr. lim scorns and you snort as he retreats.
“merry fuckin’ christmas to you,” you mutter at his back. you hope he slips on ice on his way home tonight.
you jump in surprise when you turn around and find wooyoung right there, an absolutely shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. he cackles as he quotes, “‘merry fuckin’ christmas to you.’ the boys are going to love it when i tell them what just happened.”
the shove you give him only serves to make him laugh even harder but you cannot deny that a sense of pride rushes through your body. force doctor nam to leave written evidence that can be used against him, jongho had advised you to do one day, and you feel a surge in confidence that this might actually work.
wooyoung certainly thinks that it will, gathering himself enough to give you an attractive smirk as he leans closer to whisper into your ear, “that’s our girl.” pleasant shivers run down your spine at his deep voice and it leaves you on cloud nine long after he stalks off absolutely preening at the response he has elicited from you.
you do not hear from dr. lim or dr. nam again nor do you receive an email regarding the extra shift tonight, so you begin to safely assume that the request is no more–that is, until the end of your shift when you are in the team workroom finishing off a referral letter.
“doctor y/n,” dr. bang grabs your attention from the table opposite you with a cryptic tone of amusement. “i think you’re wanted.”
you blink at the slight smugness on her face with confusion until she beckons her head behind you in the direction of the office door. you glance back, suddenly expecting dr. nam to be standing there fuming and ready to give you a harsh reprimand for your snarky response. except it is not him.
of all people, you did not expect it to be mingi, pressed up against the little window that looks through the door into the room. but then you realise he is not the only one peeping in–there is another pair of mischievous eyes in the corner of the window that you recognise as yunho’s, and another face pressed up against the large window along the wall, and oh–
they are all gathered around the workroom peering in with varying expressions of cheekiness as they enthusiastically wave at you. it is hard to tell whether you are the monkey in the zoo or if they are the monkeys staring out through their enclosure. you guffaw, half in embarrassment and half in exasperated fondness, then scramble to save your work and log off for the night before your boyfriends garner even more attention than they already have.
with unrestrained eagerness, your boys drag you off after exchanging rushed but warm wishes of “merry christmas”s with your and san’s colleagues. seonghwa pivots around from where he has been walking at the front of the group, “should we walk home today?”
“in the snow?”
he nods excitedly, so obviously the youngest in his family despite being the oldest in your relationship. “we can finally experience a hallmark christmas.”
“what about our cars?” yunho asks, although he is not at all opposed to the idea.
seonghwa suggests, “how about you and i drive the cars home and then we’ll start walking back here. we can meet up along the way and walk the rest home together.”
the two of them share a look for a few seconds before they immediately take off in unison in the direction of the lifts to the car park, yunho hollering over his shoulder, “walk slowly!” within seconds, they disappear from sight around a corner and the rest of you blink at the fast exchange that has just occurred.
“fuck it, we ball,” wooyoung grins, earning himself a scandalised look from hongjoong as a reminder he is still in the hospital. “come on, gramps,” he snickers, then loops an arm around the older’s shoulders and starts to drag him towards the main entrance, the rest of you falling into step beside them as he devises, “let’s think about how we can attack the two with snowballs once they get back.”
only, he really should have known who he was going to be up against.
you and your boyfriends are about halfway home, cutting through a small field of what is now covered in a decent layer of fresh snow, when a snowball suddenly whizzes past your face and explodes against the side of wooyoung’s head in a detonation of white crumbs. he whirls around with a shriek absolutely ready to risk it all in the name of your dared treachery, only to see yeosang getting pummelled in a similar fashion and then jongho following victim immediately after.
“snowball fight!” comes seonghwa and yunho’s combined battlecries from thin air before a hail of pre-made snowballs is unleashed upon your group.
hongjoong’s screams fill the air until he is abruptly cut off by a mouthful of snow and wooyoung runs around like a headless chicken as three snowballs hit their mark in quick succession. you laugh loudly, running to hide behind jongho who has escaped several feet away from the danger zone. san, too, starts to retreat a distance, but only to shovel snowballs together without the risk of anybody stepping on them.
a shower of residual snow sprinkles over you as yunho switches targets and pitches his snowballs in your direction. however, you rapidly realise his eyes are only fixated on jongho. your shield now a danger hazard, you make a split decision and run as fast as you can through the snow towards your tallest boyfriend. call yourself fickle or whatever, you are simply a survivor.
“traitor!” mingi yells out and points a finger at you. “y/n has switched sides!”
the boys echo with a roar, “traitor!” and you squeal with adrenalised glee as you leap the final stride towards yunho, who stretches out a hand to pull you behind him. seonghwa immediately rushes to defend you both, throwing snowball after snowball with scary precision and strength. you can only hear the solid thump of snow hitting against thick clothing and the splutters of indignation as a result of the eldest’s lobs because your eyes are closed from how hard you are now laughing.
with equally-as-scary unity, hongjoong and your five youngest boyfriends charge in simultaneity towards you and yunho. neither of you have time to brace yourselves before you are tackled into the snow, limbs tangling together as seonghwa also jumps on top.
you cannot tell who is who, but you can tell exactly whose laugh is whose–each one so distinct and playing out as different melodies in your ears. your own laughter is radiant and effervescent and the sound makes every one of your boys break out into a joyous smile. yunho starts to push the others’ weights off of himself and you, and they begin to roll off the pile into the snow around you.
one by one they join you on their backs, your bodies leaving the memory of your merriness deep in the white softness of the ground. you are all a little breathless; from the physical exertion and adrenaline of the childlike fight, from the windedness of being tackled into a dog-pile, from the chill slowly seeping in through your clothes from the snow, from the soul-stirring view of the night sky above.
you all lay there in silence, hush broken only by the scattered puffs of visible air as you catch your breaths under the whispering snowfall.
it is amazing how much can change in one year. you still fatigue from juggling your time, down to the last second. you still burn out from the sacrifices you make as a doctor, no matter your years of experience. you still grieve over the loss of seolhee, particularly on this day. but you are finally at peace with yourself, with your life and with the love you deserve, and you realise that you are also breathless from the overwhelming feeling of how lucky, content and happy you are.
in a burst of gratification and fulfillment, you are unable to stay silent. you confess, heartfelt words that you keep close to your soul every day, “i love you more than there are snowflakes falling right now.”
your boys turn to look at you, gazes softening impossibly at the tranquil smile that adorns your face. seonghwa feels a heat gathering behind his eyes, knowing better than any of them the weight behind your confession.
he prompts, softly, tenderly, “and if it stops snowing?”
you smile wider, because you have been taught the answer by a forever-seven-year-old-girl who received all the bad things in the world yet chose to only see the good; who taught you not to focus on what has melted away, but rather what you remember; who taught you that the purest reflection of love is something that is hard to see but will always be looking over you.
it's finally here. five months after i started writing this fic, doctors is finally finished. this is the longest fic i have ever written (my clown ass really thought that this would actually be on the shorter side 🤡) and it was also one of the hardest to write by far
the hardest part was definitely trying to do the raw emotions ✨justice✨ those who have read my other fics will know how much emphasis i put into making the feelings of the characters the reader's own and i REALLY wanted that for this fic bc it's so angst-heavy
that being said, i wrote 40k worth of plot just to include The Mingi Scene™ iykyk and i think he deserves a shoutout for the role he plays in the fic this time 🫶 doctors is very different to the vibes of surfers and hockey, and this one definitely delves deeper into mc's experiences more than anything, but i still hope you all enjoy the fic (hopefully y'all sob 🤩)
"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."
masterlist
ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au
chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of shooting, war/military and drugs, wholesome maknaes interactions, san is a little flirty, hongjoong's subtle attempt to woo you, seonghwa's failed attempt, and yunho's very successful attempt! kissing.
chapter wc: 10.5k
chapter synopsis: you accompany hongjoong to his meeting with assemblyman wi, where you direct him to investigate secretary park with the keyword of ‘strictland’. while you recover from the meeting with san, yeosang learns that you are not the rv spies’ target. rather, you are being protected from a threat they refuse to reveal. you practise shooting with the warehouse boys but learn of a bet placed on your shooting skills and you go to confirm the culprit, yunho. things take an unexpected, intimate turn.
prev chapter recap: you accompany hongjoong to the station and he tells you about his past connection with general wi. you point inspector gong to secretary park’s direction and suggest using general wi. afterwards, you accompany hongjoong to lunch with san and yeosang where yeosang confirms if the actions of that drunken night did mean something. seonghwa prepares you to become secretary and you’re doubtful but hongjoong assures that you’re fit for the job. you go to meet the warehouse boys with seonghwa and learn about the illegal weapons manufacturing. on your way to practise shooting with the boys, you get attacked by secretary park’s men which leaves you questioning if staying with the crescents is worth the danger you bring with yourself. the boys assure you that you don’t have to worry about a thing because they have your back now. the night ends on a suggestive note with yunho.
Fate was a strange thing.
Never did you think you would find yourself working for the biggest criminal organisation turned business. When you first got a job at the Crescent Bar, you were convinced that it had to be fate that led you here– these things were not in your control. You had been pushed around, going from place to place until you found yourself at the bar.
However… it must be the hands of destiny that personally guided you to the Crescent Office to work alongside the bosses. Destiny must have whispered in your ears, a hand on your back to keep you steady. You finally felt as if you were at the right place and were doing the right thing after a whole life of unease and struggle.
Not that the struggle or unease had gotten any easier– just that its nature had shifted into something that was familiar to you, like the game of chess you used to play with Secretary Park back when you lived together. He didn’t teach you how to play– he taught you how to win. There was a big difference between the two. He said that life was easier when you could splay the elements out on an imaginative chessboard and make a move accordingly. It was something that stuck with you.
It was also probably why your input regarding Assemblyman General Wi was being taken into consideration after you made your moves and cornered him. Assemblyman Wi was suspecting that the Crescents were trying to involve him in something darker than he initially thought. Hongjoong didn’t give him much in their phone call conversation that took place after Inspector Gong involved him in the drug investigation. Hongjoong only shared how valuable his information could be to his political career and the Assemblyman seemed to have caught the bait.
He requested a personal meeting, and the boss was still adamant that you accompany him. After all, you were ‘his little secretary’ now. His assistant, a part of the inner circle, whatever label you wished to give it. The boys were doing their best to make you adjust to your new position. You were more involved in the business now, overseeing both the legal and the illegal side with Seonghwa.
At the end of your night shift, you and Yunho would wrap things up before closing the office. Sometimes, he would walk you home under the pretence of discussing work. He always listened intently and responded well to your worries. Most of the time, it was clear that he was just using that opportunity to simply talk with you and get to know you better.
Whatever it was, you weren’t one to complain– you were starting to get used to this little routine and if you were honest with yourself and your feelings for once, you would admit that you quite liked this. You quite liked him. It was hard not to warm up to him.
Especially when he relaxed and let his work persona behind at the office. It was unbelievable that this was the same person whose presence had overwhelmed you an incredible amount before you joined the office– not that he wasn’t scary and overwhelming when he wanted to be. It was just that you understood his role as the consigliere of this business and how he had to maintain an image.
Despite all of that, he made you feel safe now. You were starting to view Jeong Yunho in a new light and see him for who he really was as a person, not just as a Crescent.
He was still a bit reserved and for all the right reasons. You supposed as the consigliere, he must still have his qualms about you. He wouldn’t be good at his job if not. As far as work was concerned, he never indulged you in something new, only discussing the things you had already gone over with Seonghwa and Hongjoong.
As did Seonghwa, though you didn’t even need to talk for him to hear you. It was a bit surreal how he had you all figured out. You would take a second to think something over and he would know that you were harbouring doubts. You would look at him a certain way and he would understand that you needed some assuring that everything would work out smoothly.
And these were just his words– his touch provided you with a level of comfort you didn’t know was possible through just a simple brush of fingers against yours or a tap to your shoulder. You weren’t sure he realised what effect he had on you. It would be better if he didn’t.
And the boss… well.
“I said what I said. You’re accompanying me to the meeting, whether you like it or not.”
You were back at square one with the argument concerning a certain politician.
“He’s Assemblyman Wi Ha Jun,” you almost sobbed. “You may know him from war as a Major General but I know him as a scary politician who has a knack for getting rid of people and burying all evidence.”
“He can’t touch you and you know that, Luna,” Hongjoong plopped on his chair and clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “I thought you realised that by now.”
“I know,” you sighed deeply. “But you have to understand that knowing that changes nothing. I’m afraid I’ll make a mistake and say too much.”
“You won’t,” he assured you, suppressing a laugh. “Wasn’t I the scary boss once?”
“You still are?” You shrugged. “You’re taking me to the meeting at gunpoint. It can’t get any scarier than this.”
You both looked at the revolver that was previously lying still on the table but was now being carelessly spun between his fingers. He finally let out a dark cackle, tossing the revolver almost casually on top of the documents yet still making you flinch.
“Wish I could shoot some sense into you. And maybe a little self-confidence,” Hongjoong commented.
“Wish I could muster the self-confidence I had when I traded my life for secrets,” you retorted and he laughed in a low manner, still waiting for a response. You let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I’ll accompany you– on one condition.”
Hongjoong raised a brow. “You seem to forget that I’m the boss and you’re in no position to make such demands, but okay, carry on.”
You clutched your chest, feigning hurt. “I thought I was part of your ‘inner circle’ or whatever. Clearly not. Anyways, I would prefer it if I’m just introduced as Luna and not Jeon y/n. In fact, I think I’d like to keep going with Luna in the future too.”
That was how it was with the boss. An endless battle of retorts and jabs but it was mostly unserious, even though to an observer it would look like a quarrel. Perhaps, that was just what your dynamic had to be, and it wasn’t bad. You could really speak your mind when you were with him and that was saying something. He had a knack for making people open up and be honest with him.
Hongjoong passed you a challenging look but decided to ignore the jab. “Alright. We’ll try to keep your identity a secret for as long as possible, but you can’t blame us if he finds out anyway. He has quite the network himself.”
“Deal,” you nodded grimly, preparing yourself mentally for the meeting that was scheduled in two hours at the Crescent Bar right before your night shift.
While you both worked in your respective spaces– him in his office, alone, and you outside at your usual spot, you noticed a familiar name while checking tomorrow’s schedule.
Seonghwa was meeting with a person called ‘Winter’. You thought you had heard the name before but you couldn’t recall where. You made a mental note to get a peek at the person when she would visit. Maybe her face would rock your memory.
Just as you were wrapping up and taking a break to freshen up (which included taking a walk around the block and gathering your wits for the meeting), Seonghwa arrived upstairs and noticed how you were so distracted cracking your knuckles that you didn’t hear him until he was right in front of your desk.
“Nervous?” He asked.
“Very,” you admitted. No point hiding it because you weren’t good at that anyway, and the worst in front of him. “But it’s okay. I’m probably making it a big deal because it feels like I’m back to the Edenary days when my father was trying to make sure I wouldn’t come across these influential figures. Now the boss is trying to make sure I’m present.”
“I do,” you smiled, holding the daily report in the air. Seonghwa motioned for you to follow him and you went to unlock his office, getting inside with him.
“You don’t need to present it– I’ll take a look later,” Seonghwa said and you nodded, relieved. You set the report on the table then, standing awkwardly and pursing your lips. “Would you like some chamomile tea?”
“Thank you, but I’m okay. It looks like we’ll be drinking, so,” you shrugged. Seonghwa was taking off his coat and hanging it on the hatstand. It looked like he had more to say so you waited for him, his presence slowly washing a wave of calmness over you.
And it seemed like he was aware of that because he stepped in front of you, this time a little closer. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, caressing your collarbones with the pad of his thumbs, separated by the black net that made the neckline of your dress.
“You’ll do alright, Luna. You don’t have to worry too much. Just be yourself and you’ll be fine. Besides, Hongjoong will be there with you. You can count on him.”
“I know. It’s just a bit daunting, but that’s just nerves. Thank you, Mr. Park.”
Seonghwa nodded and patted your head once before drawing away. “Are you okay?”
“Nervous? Yes–”
“No, I mean, are you okay?” Seonghwa asked, scanning your face with concentration. “With everything that’s been going on with Secretary Park, and now this meeting… You don’t have to be a part of this if you don’t wish to. You know that, right?”
This was what was so special about Park Seonghwa and why the rest of the Crescents always leaned on him. You felt your heart swoop anxiously but you nodded, mustering a steel gaze.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It’s just something that’s bound to happen one day or another.”
Seonghwa wasn’t satisfied with your answer though, and that was obvious by the warning look on his face. You let out a short laugh. “Really, thank you for asking, Mr. Park. You’re too kind to me.”
“I’m not,” he shook his head in amusement.
“Yeah. You’re just kind to everyone in general, I know that,” you said. “I should be leaving now. Have a good rest of the night, Mr. Park.”
Just when you were about to exit, Seonghwa’s voice called. “Do you really think I’m kind to just anybody?”
You turned to look at him, hand on the door knob. He was right– he wasn’t kind to just anybody. He hadn’t been kind to you when you first met.
“Are you claiming that I’m someone special to you?” You asked teasingly but when he nodded in all seriousness, you froze for just a moment. And then you took a deep breath, nodding.
“Thank you for letting me know that I’m someone you care about now.”
Seonghwa looked just a little disappointed to hear that, but he remained silent. You shut the door behind you, pausing to process what he had said.
It was confusing you. Seonghwa’s kindness, Yunho’s antics, and whatever the hell was going on between you and Yeosang. And whatever the hell Wooyoung had said about them. You wished you could ask them but it wasn’t your place to. And you weren’t sure what they really wanted from you. If it was merely information, they could have very well tortured it out of you if they wished to.
So you went towards the Captain’s room– the one person you could be honest with, and the one person who was honest with you, no matter how ugly or bitter the truth might sound. You were just boss and secretary. He didn’t talk in circles like the rest.
“Ready?” He asked, grabbing his coat and cane from the corner.
“Ready,” you nodded and he came to stand in front of you, scanning you once.
“Do you have your gun with you?” He asked and you blinked in surprise but nodded. Hongjoong’s eyes went to the purse resting on your hip, hanging by your shoulder. “I hope you won’t have to use it, but we can never be too cautious. You know how susceptible the bar is to attacks.”
“I really need to learn how to properly use it though,” you admitted, about to open the door for him so you both could leave but he held his hand in the air, pausing you. He produced a narrow box out of the pocket of his coat and opened it, revealing an intricately carved silver cuff bracelet with an infinity sign at the clasp.
Your mouth curved into an ‘o’ in surprise when you saw the brand– Maddox and Co. The famous jewellery shop in Sector 1. Its diamonds were a staple of Eden and people from all over the continent would visit Eden just to shop there.
He smirked at your expressions. “Like it?”
“So you plan to woo General Wi with… this?”
Hongjoong rolled his eyes, waiting for you to give you his hand and when you did, albeit hesitantly, he shot you a disapproving look though you knew he was just teasing you. He helped you wear it on your left wrist and you admired the way it rested there.
“Just a little something for your… promotion, you could say.”
“Is this really for me?” You asked in disbelief and he nodded. “Shall I return it after the meeting?”
“Luna,” Hongjoong groaned, tossing the box on the sofa.
“Do you give out gifts to all your employees who get promoted?” You continued with the questions and Hongjoong chuckled to himself, shaking his head.
“Think of it as a bribe,” he said, chuckling at your expressions because you were annoyed that he was teasing you. “Let’s go, we’re getting late.”
“But–” you started, faltering when he left the room. You glanced at the cuff before following him, rushing to match his pace as he descended down the stairs. Even during the short car ride, you kept sending pleading looks in his direction in between admiring the beautiful jewellery. He continued to ignore you but you silently promised him that you would wring the answers out of him.
Taeyong opened the door for you and led the way inside the bar, making sure everything was okay and having a word with General Wi’s men who were stationed outside Room no. 1 where the Crescents usually conducted their meetings. You looked around, relaxing a bit when you spotted Yeosang making his way towards the two of you.
“Just on time,” Yeosang patted your back. His hand stayed there for just a moment longer before he moved between you and Hongjoong to open the door. “San was keeping him company.”
“Let me know if you hear something, and have San signal me if anything seems amiss,” Hongjoong instructed and Yeosang nodded before knocking and opening the door.
“Ah, here comes the Captain,” San clapped before he got up. You couldn’t see the Assemblyman properly yet but he got up and Hongjoong straightened, saluting. Assemblyman General Wi saluted back before the two shared a warm handshake, exchanging greetings.
Assemblyman Wi caught you looking at him with curiosity and he thought that you looked familiar, though he couldn’t quite remember how. Hongjoong extended his hand towards you, prompting you to come forward to greet his superior and you shook hands.
“This is Luna. Currently my assistant and partner.”
“How do you do?” Assemblyman Wi asked, urging you to take a seat and you sat next to Hongjoong. The Assemblyman looked at Hongjoong. “Currently?”
“I’m trying to make her a Leader,” Hongjoong admitted and you slowly turned towards the boss.
A Leader?
“That’s the first I’m hearing of it, by the way,” you told the Assemblyman the truth and he laughed. Hongjoong sent an approving look in your direction. “I heard that you were Mr. Kim’s boss in the army. I’ve heard only the highest praise about you.”
“Oh, he likes me too much,” Assemblyman Wi waved his hand in dismissal, crossing his legs. Hongjoong poured him a drink and filled your glass as well. The burgundy colour of the liquid matched with the colour of his tie over the grey three-piece suit that the Assemblyman wore.
“Did he tell you about our first meeting? I was sure we were going to be sworn enemies, Hongjoong and I– even though I was his superior.”
You looked at Hongjoong with a raised brow and he shook his head in amusement. “It wasn’t that serious, General.”
“Yeah, you only thought I was an incompetent asshole who was incapable of making decisions. Nothing serious,” Assemblyman Wi laughed and you pursed your lips to stifle a smile. “He had the audacity to say that out loud. Didn’t end up well for him.”
“Yeah, it didn’t, because we’re here now,” Hongjoong scoffed and the Assemblyman grinned. “How’s business?”
“Booming,” he said. “Especially after I got the Textile Export Amendment Bill passed in the parliament recently.”
“Ah, so you’re allowed to resume trade now?”
“With lower taxes, yes,” General Wi confirmed.
“I guess being a presidential candidate certainly has its pros,” Hongjoong concluded, raising his glass. The sound of clinks momentarily filled the room as you all drank. “And how’s politics going for you?”
Assemblyman Wi looked at his military subordinate for a moment too long. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”
Hongjoong leaned back into the sofa with the familiarity of someone who had played this game too many times. You, though, sat straight in your seat, eyes fixated on the two and your hand busy fiddling with the cuff around your wrist.
“You must have asked to meet me for a reason,” Hongjoong clasped his hands together. “Coming here all the way from Edenary must have been tiring.”
The Assemblyman scoffed loudly. “You got my boys landed in the nick, you know?”
Hongjoong hummed, feigning ignorance. “I don’t keep tabs on every person in this Sector, General.”
“But you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Assemblyman Wi said, unbothered by that fact probably because he kept tabs on the Crescents too. “You led me here, didn’t you?”
“If you want your boys out, you just have to ask,” Hongjoong assured him and the Assemblyman leaned back to extract a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, offering the two of you some. Both of you denied. He lit one, looking back and forth between you two while he smoked.
“I can get them out myself, but that’s not why I’m here,” Assemblyman Wi leaned forward, resting his arm on the table. “The drug my boys were smoking this time was new– I’m unable to trace the dealer which is why I’m sure it’s you, but the drugs are a byproduct of Park Pharmas.”
“Quite the opportunity for you then, isn’t it, Assemblyman Wi?” Hongjoong smiled and the man smirked in answer. He couldn’t deny that it was. “Maybe you should look into Park Pharmaceuticals after all.”
“I’m always looking into Park Pharmas. Secretary Park acts as a shield to President Lee and you know that I need to take him down to win the elections.”
Whoa, you thought. He was pretty confident in himself. You supposed that was not a bad trait and he needed that in order to take the presidential title one day. Hongjoong looked at you and you cleared your throat.
“You can trace the drugs back to Park Sunghoon– the Secretary’s son,” you told him and he raised his brow in surprise.
“He seems like a distinguished gentleman,” General Wi commented, eyes narrowed in thought.
“Yeah, well, apparently the distinguished can’t resist a little smoke,” you shook your head. “Once you get to Park Sunghoon, you don’t have to expose him right away– I suggest using him as bait to get some answers out of Secretary Park.”
“Answers to what?”
“You’d know when you get there,” you told him and he looked at Hongjoong who nodded. “Maybe pass a keyword around for your boys– Strictland.”
“Strictland?” Assemblyman Wi frowned. “What’s that dump of land got to do with any of this?”
“That’s for you to find out,” Hongjoong answered, nodding at you. “Just make sure that nobody traces this tip back to us.”
“I don’t like this,” Assemblyman Wi settled back in resignation. “I could have traced that source to Secretary Park anyway. I would have made up something. What do you want in return?”
“We only want to hear what you hear,” Hongjoong insisted. “Information. That’s it.”
“And what makes you think I’ll agree to share that information with you? Must be pretty valuable if you’re not directly investigating.”
Hongjoong smiled in answer and Assemblyman Wi looked at you, finding you pointing at the antique porcelain vase that had saved your life that night and got you involved in this dark web with the Crescents. The vase from his money laundering hustles. It took a moment for the Assemblyman to realise what was going on but when you spotted a flush creep up his neck, you knew that you got him.
Assemblyman Wi let Hongjoong refill his glass and he downed it in one gulp, chuckling afterwards. He looked at you with interest and you suddenly felt nervous but you matched his gaze.
“Now where did he find you? Who are you?”
“She’s just my secretary,” Hongjoong shrugged jokingly.
“She’s full of information, isn’t she? Look at her eyes,” Assemblyman Wi said, addressing Hongjoong. “You saw the potential, huh?”
You had a feeling that they weren’t talking about your capabilities anymore and you started to feel a bitter taste on your tongue but Hongjoong, whether intentionally or unintentionally, let his hand fall to the side, brushing yours in the process. He didn’t move his hand.
“Looks like someone’s secretary hasn’t been doing a good job,” Hongjoong commented.
“Yeah, I might look for a replacement soon,” Assemblyman Wi smiled at you.
“She’s my secretary. I’m sure you can find plenty of options in Edenary. Maybe you can steal the President’s secretary.” Hongjoong said, referring to your father.
Assemblyman Wi laughed, shaking his head. “That man isn’t someone I can tame. I wonder why he didn’t run for presidency himself– he doesn’t need to be the president’s mere lackey.”
You didn’t miss how Hongjoong’s finger had momentarily curled against yours when he announced that you were his. His secretary. Before your mind could go elsewhere, though, Assemblyman Wi’s observation piqued your interest.
If someone of Assemblyman General Wi’s status thought that Secretary Park was potential presidential candidate material… why did your father never pursue it? He was an ambitious man, but he always seemed to be held back, sticking alongside the president and remaining in the shadows most of the time. Did he not desire that post, or did President Lee have something over him, something that bound them?
The rest of the small talk went by but you were too distracted with the ghost of the boss’ fingertips around yours. You had not expected him to provide you with moral support like this, if it could be called that. Somehow, even the mere thought of it was strangely comforting.
Assemblyman Wi left with a promise to share whatever information he would come upon if you shared more about President Lee and Secretary Park in case you heard something amiss in the underground network. As soon as his figure disappeared, you slumped back on the seat, a wave of relief washing over you.
“Good job today, Luna,” Hongjoong patted your hand. “Really got him speechless without uttering a word. Impressive.”
“Yeah, I knew I was going to do that the moment we stepped in this room,” you laughed, massaging your temples. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Hongjoong asked nonchalantly, popping a few nuts in his mouth before checking the time. You only smiled in answer.
San and Yeosang entered the room after making sure the Assemblyman was gone and San clapped for you. “You did well.”
“Ah, you’re there,” Yeosang jumped a little when he spotted you and you supposed you were blending in pretty well with the seat right now. “Almost missed you.”
“How did it go?” San asked Hongjoong.
“Well. She’ll explain. I have to go back now. Get her to eat something– she looks pale.” Hongjoong ordered.
“Geez, thanks,” you slumped down even further and the boys snickered. Hongjoong left with a goodbye and the boys ordered some food for you. You admitted that now that the meeting was done with, your appetite was returning. You had been too nervous to eat properly the entire day.
Yeosang kept you company until the food arrived. You had just finished briefing the two on the meeting with General Wi– you told them that it looked like he really was going to start investigating the connection between Secretary Park and Strictland. Yeosang praised you for doing a good job and told you that he would catch up with you later, leaving to attend to business.
That left San, and you smiled at the man who had once been your boss but was now the closest thing to a friend that you had in the Crescents. “It’s been a while, huh?”
“Just you and me? Yeah,” San said, passing you the sandwiches that were on today’s menu and for some reason, your heart did a little flip at his words. “So, how has it been at the office?”
“Well, I heard something funny,” you folded a napkin, dabbing at your mouth. “The boss told me that someone speaks very highly of me.”
“Oh? Who might that be?” San pretended to think but laughed in submission when you glared at him. “Yeah, well. Didn’t that work out for the better. You’ve warmed up to us quite a lot.”
You had to agree. Everything had changed. It was getting harder to recall a time when you were scared and concealed your identity from them, but now it served as a weapon and you were able to stand beside them, though you could still argue that you were better left in the background. “It’s hard not to.”
San smiled. “What do you think about the boss?”
“He’s… definitely something,” you let out a laugh. “He’s extraordinary, San. I see why he's called the Captain.”
“Oh, where did you hear that?” San leaned forward in curiosity.
“Jaemin,” you said and he shook his head. “It suits him. I’m really starting to admire him. I’m seeing you Crescents in a new light.”
“What do you really think of us, though?” San narrowed his eyes.
“That you’re all too much,” you whispered teasingly, taking a deep sigh. “You all are… too much.”
San was aware of why you might be feeling like that. “You’re not thinking of something stupid like how you shouldn’t be here right now, are you?” You gave him a look and he continued. “You belong here. With us. Do you feel that?”
“Sometimes,” you admitted. “Sometimes I think I’m being led to the altar–”
“We would never do that to you–”
“Not you,” you interrupted, calming him down. “It’s not you. I feel like we’re getting involved in something dangerous, and now that I’m here, I want to be able to protect you instead of leading you to the said danger. While I’m relieved that Assemblyman Wi will be doing the dirty work for us, it’s only a matter of time before things blow up.”
“Well, it’s not our first time dealing with something like this, so rest assured, you can count on us to control the damage.”
“I have a feeling that this Strictland business is beyond anything you could have imagined.”
San knew that you were right and that this was a possibility. He had discussed it with the boys and they were already taking appropriate measures by making new allies and setting traps in case things went south.
“It’ll be okay, Luna,” San assured you. “If anything seems off, I’ll let you know, okay?”
“Thank you,” you gave him an earnest smile. “How have you been? Still whining about the workload?”
And that sparked a heated argument as you both compared your workload with a newfound competitive streak in you. The conversation shifted to San updating you on the recent gossip he’d heard at the bar, some of which you verified as credible. You finished your lunch while he talked and you checked the time.
“Well, it was wonderful catching up with you but I need to get some rest before I have to go to work again. Maybe you should have warned me about the long hours before I signed up to be Mr. Kim’s secretary.”
“Oops,” San grinned. “Do you like where you are now?”
You smiled at his question. He had asked you the same thing that drunken night at the bar when you had opened up to him– a little too much than you should have, though you didn’t regret it. “I do. I like them– the boss, Mr. Park… Yunho.”
San smiled knowingly at the way you called the consigliere’s name. “I told you– Yunho is the best person you can have by your side.”
“Yeah, well, it took us a lot of trial and error to get here, but we’re good,” you told him. “I met the warehouse boys formally too– I’m seeing them more often now that I’m accompanying the boss around.”
“Do you like them?”
“I mean… it’s Wooyoung. You can’t not like him,” you said and he laughed out loud. “He won’t allow that, and I honestly appreciate that he’s so laid-back while sharp at the same time. Mingi and Jongho are easy to talk to too. It’s a good thing I was already familiar with them from all their visits here at the bar.”
“Yeah, they’re quite excited to have you be a part of our gang. Won’t shut up about you,” he scoffed and you laughed. You picked your purse and then paused when you recalled that you needed to tell San something. You turned to him, finding him watching you with an indecipherable look in his eyes– not the mellow gaze that you were used to, though he quickly shifted his demeanour when you stepped in his vision.
“I wanted to thank you for that night, when we were both drunk,” you began and he frowned in confusion. “What you said about the others really helped me open up to them. It was a bit daunting, but I confronted the boss and told him about Secretary Park. He was quick to find out the rest by himself, but… thank you.”
“There’s nothing you need to thank me for,” San shook his head. “I know you would have made the same decision anyway.”
“But you did have a little influence on my decision, and it’s because… I think I trust you,” you said and his brows rose in surprise. “I took a leap of faith in you when I told the boss not to make the deal with Park Pharmas. So the credit really belongs to you. You’ve all been grateful that I gave you that information at the right time, but the credit… it’s yours.”
“No,” San wasn’t having any of it. He shook his head adamantly. “It’s all you, darling.”
“Gosh, you’re stubborn,” you commented and he finally smiled. He stepped closer to pat your cheek, surprising you because he hadn’t ever initiated physical contact like this.
“You’re doing a great job. I hope you can trust all of us one day, with all your heart. We have a lot to offer, Luna.”
“What does that mean?” You asked, not oblivious to the underlying words within that sentence.
“You’ll know,” San said, letting go of you but you blocked his way before he could move.
“What’s with all of you and your ambiguous statements?” You frowned. “Just when I think we’re getting somewhere, one of you says something suggestive and gets me all confused–”
“Don’t worry about it too much,” San chuckled, tapping your forehead with a finger. “Let it rest.”
“San,” you warned but he only laughed, making you smile. He licked his lips and pursed them– a nervous habit of his. You narrowed your eyes just a fraction, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he cupped your face and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, lingering there just a moment.
“Let it rest.”
“Choi San!” you pushed him away and the two of you exited the room while trying to dodge the other’s swatting, laughter echoing in the corridor. Yeosang peeked from the window of his office, smiling fondly at the sight of you both.
And then he turned to the guest in his room– Wendy.
“I don’t usually let my personal feelings interfere with business,” Wendy commented when Yeosang turned his attention back to her. “But I must say… I worry for y/n’s wellbeing.”
“Do you think we would harm her?” Yeosang asked rather nonchalantly. “Come on, Wendy. We’ve known each other for years– I expected better.”
“You have no reason to harm her right now, but she’s involved with your gang now. You don’t know everything about her. I fear you won’t take it well when you find out more.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yeosang gave her a suspicious look but Wendy only crossed her legs, downing the whiskey in one gulp.
“I know you lot have your morals,” Wendy acknowledged. “But she’s become my friend and I wish I had done more so she wouldn’t get so involved with you.”
“Rich coming from you when you’re a member of the most notorious spy network in the continent,” Yeosang raised a brow in challenge. “At least I’m not an assassin. And what do you mean friend? You don’t keep friends, Wendy.”
Wendy smiled. She was proud of being one of the leaders of the RV spies and their contribution to the stability in the continent was… questionable, to say the least. They served no one– not a person, not their homeland. They simply sold information to the highest bidder or exchanged their services for other favours. While their identities were known to some of the organisations who were also a part of the underground network, such as Ateez, the RV spies were still a mystery to anyone who tried to find them. You could not contact them– they would contact you if you needed them.
“I’m human, Mr. Kang. Everyone needs friends,” Wendy looked down at her empty glass, her short brown hair covering most of her face.
“Yeah? And you just so happened to find Luna to share the shabby apartment with. Pure chance, huh? Is that your disguise for your new target?”
“What do you care if she’s my target?” Wendy cocked her head, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to kill her. I’m only keeping her close because she knows too much and that information should not be in the wrong hands.”
Yeosang folded the cuffs of his black shirt, leaning in to lock eyes with the spy. “You must know everything then.”
To his surprise, Wendy shook her head. “I’ve been trying to get it out of her– if we kill her, we’ll be doomed.”
Yeosang almost felt pleased to hear that but then he realised that Wendy did not mean that they were threatened by the Crescents. “Doomed?”
“You can’t get that information out of me, don’t even think about it,” Wendy scoffed. “I’ve given you enough already, for old times’ sake. Give the Captain our greetings and tell him that he does not need to worry about us– not when it concerns Luna. We’re protecting her, Yeosang.”
“From who?” Yeosang frowned. “Secretary Park?”
Wendy laughed mockingly and that was enough for him. “You can stop keeping tabs on us. We’re with you on this one.”
With that, she left the room and the fading clicks of her heels left dread creeping up on Yeosang as he settled back on his seat.
Secretary Park was not the real threat. Whatever information Luna possessed was dangerous enough for the RV spies to protect her without her knowledge. Yeosang felt the hair on the back of his neck rise– he had never heard of the RV spies protecting someone instead of hunting them down. Were they protecting the information for their own sake or for the sake of the stability of the continent? He couldn’t help but wonder if it was the latter because all their leads so far led to Strictland. But there was another question nagging at him.
If Secretary Park was not the real threat, why was he trying to kill his own daughter? How was Secretary Park not the real threat when he tried to kill Luna?
San entered the room, ready to take over Yeosang’s work while he took a break, looking at him worriedly when he saw him with a deep frown. San slid on top of the desk in front of him, fixing his hair for him but Yeosang did not respond, which was strange.
“You okay? How did the meeting go?”
Yeosang rested his head against the back of the chair, zoning out while he looked at San. San waited patiently for his partner to gather his thoughts, straightening when his brows scrunched in concentration.
“Schedule a meeting with the boys. We’ve got a serious problem– and make sure Luna does not hear about this meeting.”
“That’s it. Keep your arm straight, just like that– shoot!”
You pulled the trigger, the recoil making you flinch visibly. The bang of the bullet sounded loudly inside you as it left the gun even though you were wearing earmuffs. You scrunched your face as you laughed, almost skipping to hide behind Jongho who was the only one who had not been making fun of you for the past hour that you had been learning to shoot. You peeked from above his shoulder to see if you had hit the target– the empty wine bottle.
All five of them were intact.
“The bullet went that way,” Jongho pointed towards the left where the last bottle remained perched on the table. The bullet had gone a bit too far for your liking. You pursed your lips at the subtle jab though he kept his face straight– unlike the two others who were currently clutching at each other and smacking each other’s limbs in an effort to collect themselves from the laughter.
You didn’t realise your shooting skills had become this rusty, but it had been a good few years since the last time you shot a gun. Madame Cha’s gang was happy to entertain your newfound hobby to learn shooting and had helped you get the hang of it, but it was towards the end of your stay in Wonderland so you hadn’t practised much.
While they had also teased you to no end, somehow, it felt more embarrassing this time.
You loaded the gun again, pointing at the pair who were still clutching to each other and they only laughed harder at your antics, making you groan.
“It’s not that funny, is it? What are you really laughing at?”
“It’s not,” Wooyoung agreed, wiping his eyes. “Your form is good, you just need practice. It’s just that we had a bet–”
“Oh, you lot and your bets,” you looked up at the sky in defeat, hearing Jongho’s laughter ring in the air too. “Who was it this time?”
The three exchanged glances and you raised a brow, pointing the gun at them again. “My aim may be bad but I’m pretty sure I can shoot from this close. Spill.”
“It was Yunho hyung!” Jongho raised his hands in surrender and your eyes widened in disbelief.
Yunho?
“He bet you wouldn’t shoot one single bottle today,” Mingi added and you scoffed, a sudden desire for revenge bubbling inside you.
How. Dare. He.
“Oh, it’s only because he thinks we’re bad teachers,” Wooyoung attempted to salvage the situation but the damage to your ego had been done. You shook your head repeatedly. “Please don’t kill him.”
“We’ll see about that,” you told him, face stern. “Now, will you be useful and tell me how to shoot better so he can lose the bet?”
“We’ve been at it for an hour now. You’re wasting our bullets,” Mingi teased.
“I know these bullets are of no use to you anyway,” you smirked and he grinned. “Come on. If he loses the bet I’ll have him treat you guys to dinner.”
“Alright, I’m in,” Wooyoung rolled his sleeves, a serious determination in his eyes as he assessed your form. He rubbed your shoulders to ease the tension from them while giving you pointers on how to spot the target and have your eyes work in coordination with your hands. You shot again with his directions and this time, the bullet lodged itself in the table instead of hitting the target which was clearly a milestone, all of them cheering for you. You tried again with the remaining bullets and Wooyoung helped you aim your hand–
And the shatter of the bottle had to be the most satisfying sound you had heard in a while. You groaned in relief while the boys gathered around you, congratulating you with pats and ruffles and you giggled at how they smothered you with affection– all to win a bet.
It was truly amazing how they made you feel so comfortable, almost childish, in such a short time. As the youngest of the group, they really lived up to that title. They could lift the energy with their presence alone anywhere.
“She just earned us dinner! I can’t wait to rub this in Yunho’s face,” Wooyoung was grinning widely. “But for now, let me treat you to some ramen. I make killer ramen.”
You realised how hungry you were at the mention of food and you helped them pack the equipment, ready to go back to the warehouse. You had a bit of free time in the afternoon since Hongjoong was going to the Sector 1 port with Seonghwa and Yunho to make sure the shipment of Black Shadow was dispatched safely to Mist Island. They had offered you to join them but you told them you’d prefer to get familiar with the technicals of the business first. They knew it would be overwhelming so they didn’t insist.
But they must have let the boys at the warehouse know that your evening was free because only a few minutes later, the phone at reception rang asking for you. You wondered who could be calling you but it was Wooyoung, inviting you for shooting lessons at the same spot that you had missed on your first visit. He was in town to buy some equipment and was willing to pick you up so you could go together.
While you were initially surprised that he was so willing to spend time with you, knowing Wooyoung, it wasn’t strange. He was always with someone. You accepted on the condition that a ride be arranged so you could make it back to your shift on time.
On the way, you learned more about the weapons business and how it started. There was already an established underground weapons channel run by MX and when they trained the Crescents who were still called Ateez at that time, they let them take over. Rival gangs like Chan’s gang– Wolfgang– had different suppliers which was why there was always a conflict of interests between them, prompting street fights or worse.
What made Ateez different from the other gangs was that shortly after taking over MX’s weapons business, they started manufacturing their own weapons and started dealing them in the underground network, resuming many of the channels that had shut down before or during the war. While some argued that it was dangerous and immoral to deal weapons, only a few knew how important and beneficial it would ultimately be for Eden’s defence. Eden had suffered a lot in the war and they needed to stand strong and proud on their feet once again.
You had been discussing the suppliers before you reached the warehouse and then got busy with greeting the employees before moving to the spot in the forest to practise. And now that you were back at the warehouse, seated at the backside on plastic chairs, you clapped when Wooyoung set the pot of ramen in the middle of the table. The savoury smell made your mouth water and you waited until Wooyoung settled down before you all dug in.
“This really is–” you nodded, thumbs up in the air, “killer ramen.”
“Right?” Wooyoung smiled cheekily. “Goes straight to the heart when you’re tired.”
“He’s our designated chef,” Jongho explained and you nodded in approval. Of course he was. “You should ask him to treat you to a proper meal.”
“Oh, she doesn’t need to ask,” Wooyoung announced proudly. “You’re welcome to a meal any time.”
“Wow, really?” You asked and he nodded earnestly. You looked at the others who were unfazed. “Thank you?”
“You don’t have to sound so sceptical,” Mingi laughed. “You should get used to this by now.”
He was right. Wooyoung was naturally very friendly and so very different from the rest of the Crescents. Something about his presence was very comforting and he was not judgemental at all, which you supposed made him pleasant company. You ate a bit more before you recalled the unanswered question.
“I meant to ask earlier,” you began, looking at Wooyoung. “Do you always keep a check of who funds your weapons project?”
Wooyoung, whose mouth was full of ramen, nudged Mingi and he cleared his throat. “We usually do, but most of the time they’re anonymous. Still, we try to trace the sources just to be on the safe side.”
You nodded. “And do you currently have any anonymous funding?”
“A few, yes,” Mingi’s brows furrowed in concentration as he recalled. “I think it’s mostly people in Eden or in rare cases, foreigners, who try very hard to remain anonymous. We keep the anonymity of our sources anyway, it’s not like everyone knows that we deal in weapons.”
“Most of the people do, though,” Jongho pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s all under the shadows,” Wooyoung said, looking at you. “Are you on to something? I think I can recognise that look now.”
The look being your chin tucked between your fingers as you stared into the distance. You shot him a dirty look but he was right. “I’m not sure if any politicians fund your weapons project but it would be wise to start digging into it. Just to confirm if they are involved.”
“Usually, the politicians would stick to legal channels,” Jongho reminded you but continued. “Usually. It wouldn’t be strange if someone was making sure Eden had enough supply of weapons through us or some other channel, now that I think about it…”
“Right?” You bit your lips in thought. “Now that you’re expanding the business, making new deals and involving yourselves in politics, it would be sensible to start worrying about who’s funding your project and for what reasons.”
“Definitely,” Wooyoung concurred and you checked the time.
“Alright, boys. I think it’s time for me to leave,” you said, getting up.
“Stay~” Wooyoung whined, his entire demeanour shifting in a second with his arms reaching out for you, making you choke on laughter. Jongho shook his head, cleaning the table while Mingi smacked Wooyoung’s arm. Wooyoung only wrapped his arm around Mingi’s waist, snuggling close to him and you watched with interest at how Mingi’s arm naturally went around the younger’s back. Wooyoung looked at you. “Join our little bubble.”
“If he joins, sure,” you pointed at Jongho and he widened his eyes at you, scandalised. Wooyoung grinned, moving to grab the maknae’s arm who physically recoiled with a little yelp. You knew Jongho was not a fan of physical affection so it was quite a sight to see Wooyoung chase Jongho. He gave up with a groan, yelling threats at him but Jongho only flipped his middle finger in answer.
“Send Yunho my greetings, will you? Tell him I miss him and he should stop betraying my moral loyalty,” Mingi said, standing beside you as you watched the youngest yell threats at each other. You made a face.
“What does that even mean?”
“He’ll know,” Mingi passed you a knowing look and you narrowed your eyes at him but nodded anyway. You could pass a message, sure.
While Jongho did not join the bubble, you still received hugs from Wooyoung, even a kiss on the temple to tell you that you did well, and if you weren’t interrupted by someone shouting that the car was ready to go, the boys would have seen you awkwardly fidget as you wondered if Wooyoung was this casual with just anyone. You distantly recalled both San and Yeosang mentioning that Wooyoung wasn’t physically affectionate with just anyone and you wondered how you made it to that list.
Perhaps, you would ask Yeosang.
“You should drink less coffee at this hour of the night, Luna,” Yunho commented, noticing how it was your third cup since you arrived at the office.
“Well, the paperwork is boring and putting me to sleep. You’re awfully quiet tonight too. Did it hurt your ego, losing the bet?”
Yunho chuckled darkly, settling back almost proudly. “I didn’t place the bet to win it. I placed it because I knew you would be mad when you hear about it. I may have lost the battle but I won the war, ultimately.”
You clenched your jaw, mirroring his position though you folded your arms. “I don’t quite believe that. I think you’re just making up excuses.”
Yunho only smiled, maintaining eye contact with you and you kept it almost as a challenge.
It had been hot and cold with him tonight. It didn't help that you had to spend most of the time in Yunho’s office, working with him on the monthly report and updating each other on the recent happenings. You delivered Mingi’s message right when you arrived and that sent him into a fit of laughter, perhaps having realised what he meant. You didn’t ask but it piqued your curiosity to no end.
And then you told him that you won the boys their bet and that had him chuckling darkly with him being pretty adamant that you may have cheated.
Sure, Wooyoung had practically held your hand and guided that winning shot, but that couldn’t be counted as cheating… right?
“I still think I can do a better job at teaching shooting than they did,” Yunho cocked his head. “Do you want to go somewhere with me?”
“Where?”
“I know a place,” Yunho smirked and you raised a brow. “Let’s wrap this up first.”
Somehow, that served as motivation for you both, perhaps for different reasons. You cleaned up the office and locked the doors as you left, walking side by side along the canal just like you had done so many times now, except this time you were going in the opposite direction, away from your apartment.
Maddox Street was mostly empty save for the few drunkards at this hour of the night. The potted plants lining the offices and shops were still damp from the light shower from the evening, the wet smell of earth permeating your surroundings. At the end of the road, you could see the faint outline of a bright diamond-shaped shop sign that belonged to the store of Maddox and Co. This road was pretty clean, so… why were you here?
“Don’t tell me there’s a shooting range nearby,” you attempted to prod but Yunho wasn’t budging. “Do you plan to test your aim by shooting me? Because that would have sounded like a nice idea earlier, but now I’m not so sure…”
“Relax,” Yunho laughed. “We’re going to practise shooting but not with guns.”
“I’m tired–”
“You won’t be tired for this,” Yunho promised and you spent the rest of your walk arguing and teasing each other until you reached–
“Not the park,” you looked at Yunho in disbelief. “This is where kids come, Lieutenant Jeong.”
Yunho laughed at the way you pulled his rank into it. “This is also where you can find slingshots lying around.”
Now that piqued your interest. “And how would you know?”
“If you were a Sector 1 local, sweetheart, you would have known,” Yunho told you, ditching his overcoat on the bench to go find a slingshot. You bit the inside of your cheek to make yourself move past his casual use of the term, ditching your own coat and purse to find stones. In a few minutes, he was back with two slingshots and you had a pile of pebbles.
As Yunho taught you how to use a slingshot, he told you that this was a spot that he had frequently visited when he was a kid. Apparently, that’s how Mingi and Yunho became friends. Their parents used to bring them here in the evenings. Your heart warmed when you heard the stories he shared with you– you could almost imagine the 13 years old duo fighting over who was a better slinger.
“It’s hard to believe that you were once normal kids,” you laughed as you attempted to shoot the branch Yunho had stuck on the ground as your target, though both of you were more focused on each other than actually shooting pebbles at the target. “The war stole the innocence of so many children.”
“I was eighteen. Not really a child,” Yunho said but you shook your head.
“That’s still too young to find yourself on the path to becoming an honoured Lieutenant Colonel,” you told him and he shrugged. There was no hurt in his eyes anymore, the years spent in the war and the aftermath having hardened his heart, yet you found his lips curling into a soft smile as he imagined what could have been had the circumstances been different.
You shot another pebble, this time zooming past the stick and managing to shake it a little. A close call. “Do you often come back here?”
Yunho smiled guiltily this time. “It’s my first time after the war. I only watched from there sometimes,” he pointed at the road across the park.
You lowered the slingshot as you looked at him– his first time back, and he brought you here? He was nervously tugging at his form-fitting black waistcoat, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled upwards, baring the veins that popped as he clenched his fists, attempting to reposition the slingshot in his hands.
You tossed the slingshot aside, urging him to sit beside you on the bench instead. The cool air blew against the back of your head, making a few tendrils escape from your bun. “How does it feel to be back?”
“Strange,” he admitted. “Perhaps because it’s so empty at this hour.”
“And why did you bring me here tonight?”
Yunho looked at you, eyes almost half-lidded. “Do I need a reason to bring you here?”
“Not really,” you shrugged, resting your back against the bench in resignation. “Although, it would be nice if there was. ‘Jeong Yunho, the big, cold mafia consigliere person, brings his bookkeeper slash secretary to the park from his childhood’. Makes a good headline for Eden Newspaper, does it not–”
You felt Yunho’s hair caress your cheek before you felt his cheek rest on your shoulder. He slid down a little to accommodate himself better, almost snuggling into you.
“You got a headline for this?” Yunho asked in a low, tired voice. “Or did I finally make you shut up?”
You gulped so loudly you were sure he heard it. But you weren’t going to back away. “‘Lieutenant Colonel Jeong Yunho of Crescent Co. found snuggling with his secretary at the Topaz Park. Sources say it was a rare sight to see’--” you paused when he intertwined his hand with yours. You cleared your throat. “‘And some witnesses say they may have seen the consigliere hold the woman’s hand…’”
When he kissed the back of your hand, his lips soft against your skin, that’s when you finally shut up for a few moments. But Yunho, no matter how tired he was, had a penchant of making a mess out of you. “Carry on.”
“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” You asked quietly, your heart thumping. There was no way out of this now– not when he rested his body weight against yours, making his body heat feel incredibly welcoming in the otherwise cold weather.
“This wasn’t the original plan,” he looked at your joined hands, smiling at how small your hand looked in his. “But I quite like where we are right now.”
You couldn’t help but rest your head against his in response, letting him pepper kisses on your knuckles and then your fingertips, your heart absolutely melting at the sight– you were simply in awe right now.
Jeong Yunho. The Jeong Yunho kissing the inside of your palm.
“Yunho,” you almost groaned when you had enough, drawing away to look at him. He raised his head a little and you suddenly became aware of just how close he was– so close that you could see the brown of his pupil even in the dim streetlight. Your gaze softened at the sight and you found yourself turning towards him, your hand cupping his face and you felt your heart break when he leaned in to your touch.
“You look like a big puppy right now,” you commented and he laughed softly, shaking his head. “I did not realise you’d be this… warm.”
“For you,” he told you. “If someone told me a few months ago that I’d be here like this with the bookkeeper girl from the bar, I would have shot them in the face.”
You grinned, searching his face while his eyes searched yours. “Do you feel the pull too? This thing between us?”
“I do,” he confirmed, moving closer subconsciously as if to prove his point.
“It’s confusing,” you told him. “I’ve felt it often– not only with you.”
If you expected him to draw away, he didn’t. He only smiled, his gaze somehow softening even more. “I know.”
“Yet you’re still here,” you squeezed his hand that was clasped in yours. He shrugged as if to show his submission.
“Will you run away if I get closer?” He asked so cautiously that you wished you could tell him that you would never even take a single step away from him. You shook your head and he mirrored your position, cupping your face with his free hand and joining his forehead with yours, noses brushing and breath mingling with yours.
He went ahead to kiss the corner of your mouth softly and something that resembled a whimper escaped your mouth– god, it had been too long since you had been touched like this and the fact that it was Yunho, of all the people, was making your head spin. You moved your hands to clutch at his waistcoat and he wasted no time, cupping your face in both hands and kissing you square on the mouth, your lips moving in harmony almost immediately.
Your insides were in shambles and you let him guide you through the kiss, though he was in no hurry now that he had gotten a taste of you. He moved his lips along yours slowly, sensually, tugging at your lips and leaving small licks that made you groan and curl your body along his.
His hand went to snake behind your neck while the other arm went around your waist, bringing your bodies flush and he momentarily broke apart, out of breath and you knew it wasn’t because he needed air– it was because you both needed a moment to process what was happening. You, however, wanted more.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged at his bottom lip, making him kiss you deeply again and when you swiped your tongue across his lips, he gladly opened but only to let his tongue inside your mouth to explore first. You let out a low moan at the feeling, kissing each other passionately until you were actually out of breath.
When you drew apart, he rested his head on your shoulder, his body shaking as he chuckled almost in disbelief. You smacked his arm but let him be, smiling.
Lovestruck.
“Was this a good decision?” You wondered out aloud for both of you.
“Who cares?” Yunho uncharacteristically answered, kissing your exposed neck. “We can worry about that later.”
“Right,” you muttered, pushing him away gently so you could look him in the eyes. “This changes nothing at work, alright? I prioritise my position.”
“I prioritise my position too. This one, specifically,” he leaned forward so that your faces were centimetres away and when your eyes widened in surprise, he grinned childishly. “But you’re right. We’re still consigliere and secretary. I expect you won’t shirk your duties just because I kissed you.”
“Shut up,” you groaned, looking around to make sure no one was nearby. You looked back at him, struck by a sudden wave of desire but you quelled it. “Let’s talk later– preferably in broad daylight.”
“Oh, the things I’d do to you in daylight,” Yunho said challengingly, but he suddenly looked guarded. “Do you think anything I did tonight was unserious or thoughtless?”
“No,” you replied though you had to admit, you were a tad bit surprised that he was fully serious. Even cautious. “But Yunho… I need some time to figure a few things out.”
“You can have that,” he assured. “And Luna… everything that you’re feeling right now, about me, about us,” he said and you had a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about you and him. “It’s okay.”
“Thank you,” you squeezed his hand. “Walk me home?”
“Only if I get a goodbye kiss.”
“Lieutenant Jeong Yunho!”
next chapter
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and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky (teaser)
genre: poly doctors!ateez x doctor fem!reader, hospital romance, established relationship, slow burn, fluff, angst
length: 1.6k (teaser) + approx. 37k (full fic)
c/w: slightly aged-up characters, slow burn except it's burning in reverse, lots of medical themes, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic
synopsis: after transferring during the last year of your residency program, you work alongside your eight boyfriends at kq hospital. it becomes harder to keep your relationship the same as it used to be as you all navigate the respective challenges of being doctors and nurses. you come to experience love and loss in both warmth and coldness, but only one of them will keep your relationship alive.
a/n: not my titles becoming increasingly longer with each oneshot i write 💀 but this is probably my fave one yet and i hope it slaps when the full fic drops
your feet drag against the floor as you trudge listlessly back to your locker, body heavy as if you are caught in the very midst of a snowstorm. your shoulders cave even further in on themselves when you check your phone to see no reply from hongjoong.
you want nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriend’s arms, nose pressed against the soothing rumble of his chest as he listens to you complain about your day. it will not change anything about the situation with dr. lim and dr. nam but at least you will be able to release the hot steam that has built up from the bubbling pit of lava in your chest.
if hongjoong is still working, perhaps you can sit in his office and wait on his couch. his presence will be enough to keep you grounded.
some of the nurses in the neurology ward greet you cordially as you exit the elevator and you return their smile before sitting on a bench further down the corridor to avoid being in anybody’s way. you test your chances and call hongjoong’s number, only to hear the line ring until it sends you to his voicemail. when another attempt ten minutes later yields the same result, you send a text telling him to call you when he is finished.
you resign yourself to the bench with a passive sigh and wait, all the while a tempest swirling inside of you. eventually, one of the junior residents tilts her head at the sight of you still sitting on the bench, having passed by you almost twenty minutes ago in the same position. she calls out, “doctor l/n?”
you jerk up from where you are fiddling with your phone. recognising her as hongjoong’s colleague, you ask, “i’m just waiting for doctor kim. do you happen to know where he is?”
“doctor kim?” she furrows her brows, “he left already. he actually left early today.”
“oh.”
the heat in your chest suddenly dissipates, immediately replaced by a frigid hollowness that makes your mind go blank instead. horrified, you feel your eyes involuntarily start to prickle with tears no matter how hard you will for them to disappear.
“do you want me to pass a message on for you?” the resident looks at you with a twinge of concern, but mostly curiosity.
you shake your head and mumble, “no, that’s okay, thanks,” then rush away to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. deciding against asking one of your other boyfriends to drive you home, you forgo catching the bus too in favour of walking through the streets.
it’s not even a big deal. we’ve all forgotten about dates before and hongjoong would never deliberately blow you off.
you know that. you know this is not something you need to be upset over and you know that your boyfriend must have a reason. yet knowing does nothing to stop the trembling of your lips as you swipe furiously at your dripping tears with the back of your hand. on top of everything that has piled up today, hongjoong forgetting about your date is enough to topple it over completely.
the light snowfall from earlier has already stopped but the temperature remains just as low. as you tread through the chalky streets home, thoughts creeping through your mind like the fractal branches of a snowflake–fragile and delicate–you welcome the numbing chill around you instead and let it paralyse your emotions like an anaesthetic.
by the time you reach the front door, you have collected yourself enough. the rims of your eyes and the tip of your nose still have a slight redness to them but your appearance can easily be dismissed by the biting cold outside. you unlock the door and walk in.
you are met with immediate warmth; from the residual heat of shared dinner, from the streaming glow of lights, from the peals of low laughter. walking through the corridor almost feels like walking through a warped tunnel of dissociation–so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.
san sits on the couch, languidly scrolling on his phone with an arm wrapped around yeosang’s shoulders, who is flicking through a thin booklet of paper. sitting cross-legged at the coffee table in front of them in a stark contrast of mess is hongjoong–hongjoong who is hunched over his own booklet with a newly-made carpet and tablecloth of thesis and journal articles, textbooks and tablets.
you are so caught up by the hurricane of a scene that you do not realise you are about to step on the corner of a textbook until hongjoong’s head snaps up to look at you.
“be careful!” his warning cry is sharp with alarm.
your body jolts and you step backwards. “sorry.”
despite san and yeosang’s chirpy greetings, you remain frozen to the spot. the two of them clamber up to pull you into an excited hug, only to pause when they realise there is no way to navigate the landmine of paper scattered around the room, so they settle back into the cushions instead.
“don’t mind the mess,” yeosang giggles, unaware of the sudden onset of unease that courses through your body. “even seonghwa has given the okay for him to do this.”
your words come out thick and sticky as you ask, “what is hongjoong doing?”
san’s voice is sympathetic, “there was a last-minute change to his presentation that he’s doing at that annual neurological association meeting. his department head wants him to do a different topic.”
“he could’ve told me, i don’t know, five fucking months ago,” hongjoong curses fiercely at his tablet, “but he just had to wait until my presentation was basically done to let me know.”
you have had a bad day…but so has hongjoong.
the door opens behind you. fumbling for a moment, you try to make yourself smaller against the wall to make room for whoever of your boyfriends has returned. it is mingi back from his shift which tells you just how long you had waited for hongjoong, considering mingi’s shift ended almost two hours after yours did.
“y/n?” mingi’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles, the sight of you a pleasant surprise. he asks, “did you and hongjoong come back from your date already?”
you wince at the bomb he has unwittingly dropped; the very one you yourself were still unsure how to navigate.
“shit,” hongjoong’s head snaps towards you again but for an entirely different reason this time. “holy fuck. oh my fucking god.” his hands flutter as he upturns the scattered notes around him in search of his phone, face draining of all colour as it dawns on him he had silenced his notifications. “the date–i forgot. fuck, i am so fucking sorry, y/n.”
your boyfriends on the couch watch with darting eyes and mingi glances at you cautiously. in some twisted reality, you almost feel immobilised by guilt as hongjoong stumbles to his feet, grasping the phone he has finally found from where it had been tossed under the table.
nothing changes the fact that he forgot nor the fact that you have had a rough day. but just as you had realised, hongjoong has also had a rough day, if not worse than yours. and as with any relationship, one will always have to yield under pressure lest both people break.
swallowing thickly, you manage to force out, “that’s okay. i forgot too.”
a white lie, but a white lie has never hurt anybody.
mingi catches the slight twist of your fingers in the side of your jacket. he murmurs, “let’s go inside,” then tugs you by the elbow. he steps you carefully through the landmines further into the living room, gingerly toeing papers inches aside to reveal the floorboards underneath for the both of you to step on. hongjoong is still looking at you remorsefully as you near, his hands itching to reach out but afraid they will not be met with forgiving ones.
“it’s okay, joong, really,” you extend your fingers in his direction and gently squeeze his hand. “sorry to hear about your presentation. i know how hard you’ve worked on it the past few months.”
sadness still lingers in your boyfriend’s eyes at having made such a careless mistake despite the grateful smile he gives you. “i’ll make it up to you after the presentation is finished,” he vows. “i’ll take you out for a nice dinner and i promise i won’t forget this time.”
you chuckle softly with a reassuring nod, “okay.”
“what about you? how was your day?” hongjoong asks.
an hour ago you wanted nothing more than the comfort he could offer while you vented about your day and you are almost certain fatigue and frustration are smeared across your face right now. yet you simply answer, “it was a long day but it was good.”
another white lie.
before your boyfriends can probe any further, you state, “i’m going to take a shower first. might head to sleep early today.” you lean forward to give hongjoong a chaste kiss, who easily relaxes into it with relief. you turn to rise onto your tiptoes to give mingi one too before meeting yeosang and san halfway from where they kneel on the couch to also kiss you goodnight.
then you turn and retreat to your room. it is not all too bad, you reconcile with yourself. alone time would be good after today’s events.
a third white lie.
but again, that is fine, because a white lie never hurt anybody…nobody except for yourself.
taglist pt. one | apply | comment to be tagged for this fic only
"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."
masterlist
ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au
chapter warnings: drinking, illegal businesses, mentions of violence, war/military and weapons, almost car accident, maknaes are finally introduced! wholesome interactions with the maknaes, hongjoong is the unintentional tease, yunho is the intentional tease, yeosang is the oblivious tease.
chapter wc: 12k
chapter synopsis: you accompany hongjoong to the station and meet inspector gong in regards to a drug case. you plant baits and grab lunch at the bar with hongjoong. hongjoong convinces you to become his secretary with words of affirmation. you finally go to meet the rest of the crescents at the warehouse but a sudden attack makes you wonder if you’re worth all the trouble you’ll bring the crescents, though yunho is there to make you feel better.
prev chapter recap: yunho verifies with kihyun that secretary park is not the man for their new deal. hongjoong notices how secretary park is not surprised to hear that they are aware of his dealings with foreigners– with strictland. he makes the connection and realises that you are the illegitimate daughter of secretary park. no longer having to hide your identity, you candidly discuss with yunho about the strictland nuclear base and who might be involved if it’s presumably inactive status is a lie. you start to handle the illegal side of the business as well and one night, save yunho from an attack which ends up shifting your relationship with him. he overwhelms and confuses you with his casual manner and you go find solace in yeosang’s office (and arms).
With Jihoon away on business at the Sector 1 port, accompanying Seonghwa to oversee the illegal departure of Black Shadow to Mist Island, the midday slot was packed with just you and Eunha to take care of the reports and to deal with the aftermath of the police’s initial investigation after receiving a false tip about drug dealing. You confirmed that the Crescents were not involved but the damage has been done. Apparently, some inspectors had always been on the Crescent’s tail, ready to catch them in the act, waiting for a chance to see the Crescent’s slip. While it was frustrating to hear that the police weren’t doing their job properly, your annoyance only magnified when you learned that they were demanding that one of the Crescents visit the station to clear things up.
Since Yunho was occupied at the port with Seonghwa, making sure the illegal shipment left Eden waters safe and unnoticed, that left Hongjoong in the office and San and Yeosang at the bar. Hongjoong decided that he needed to set the record straight with the police and decided to use this opportunity to shift their attention elsewhere. With a clear plan in his head, he exited his room and spotted you working alongside Eunha.
And when your gaze connected with his, you found him already pointing his finger in your direction.
“You. You’re coming with me.”
You frowned in confusion, pointing at yourself and he nodded in confirmation, ordering ‘downstairs in 2 minutes!’, before disappearing down the stairs, leaving you to process the command on your own.
“Just go– I’ll take care of this,” Eunha assured you and you took a deep breath, grabbed your net gloves and coat, and made your way downstairs. The boss was already at the door waiting with his umbrella– it was raining quite heavily outside. You picked your own from the stand by the doorway, hurriedly getting inside his car that was already at the front of the office– the latest Bentley model befitting the boss of the Crescent Company. Taeyong, Hongjoong’s bodyguard, was driving and he greeted the two of you.
“We’re going to the station, by the way,” Hongjoong told you when you got comfortable and you appreciated that he gave you a heads-up. “There’s still someone on our case and I have to talk to a certain inspector anyway. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
“Right. Are you sure you have to go personally?” You asked. “I mean… if it’s not necessary someone else could go in your stead?”
“Inspector Gong only seems to listen to me,” Hongjoong scoffed, looking outside at the pattering rain. There seemed to be an old connection with the inspector, but then again, the Crescents probably knew every single person who lived at least in Sector 1. Your brows quirked at the familiar name. Where had you heard it?
“I’m thinking I might point him towards General Wi,” Hongjoong continued, this time locking eyes with you. “If he starts investigating in that direction, it should eventually lead him to Secretary Park.”
“It’s quite easy to silence someone though– especially a cop. Their loyalty lies with money,” you reminded him. “I’ve seen officers give in to as little as 60 krodus.”
You had personally witnessed your brother Sunghoon bribe an officer who caught him smoking some drugs in a deserted alley. That was when you started to keep tabs on your brother, hoping to find his weakness. Instead, you found him handing that little amount with a pat to the officer. You tried to justify it– perhaps, the officer needed to buy a good meal for his children, but your respect for officers significantly declined afterwards.
“Not all of them,” Hongjoong smirked. “Inspector Gong’s morals seem to be his downfall.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” you shifted your focus to Hongjoong. “For the leader of a criminal organisation, you’re quite a man of morals yourself.”
Hongjoong considered that, his brow arching as he hummed in response. “What exactly did an Edenary citizen think Ateez was?”
“Not so organised, for starters,” you admitted and he shook his head in amusement. “More like a street gang?”
“We were once a street gang,” Hongjoong confirmed. “Just like Kihyun’s gang. You’re very familiar with them– was it a surprise that we operate like them?”
“Well, I never got to hear much about their street gang period before they became a respectable organisation,” you replied. “I’ve always just known them to be owners of MX Pharmaceuticals. Crescent, however…”
“Let’s hear what’s on your mind,” Hongjoong urged you to continue when he noticed that you were restraining yourself from saying more. “Come on, I’ve been called worse than ‘a man with morals’.”
“Just never expected you to have some really strict ones, that’s all I’m saying,” you raised your hands in surrender. “It’s kind of admirable. And you’re also really misunderstood.”
“Or maybe you’ve only seen the good parts yet. Ever wonder about that?”
Well, you thought. That was one way to put it. You dared a look at the boss who was fiddling with his pocket watch– a golden little thing with an hourglass etched on its cover. He caught you staring at it and smiled.
“Do you want to know who gave me this watch?” Hongjoong asked and you blinked in surprise at the question– you both had rarely ever talked outside of work so this was new. You nodded in answer, genuinely wanting to hear the story behind this watch because it seemed to be a part of his personality.
“I was a part of Major General Wi’s squad during the war,” he said and a surprised ‘oh’ erupted from your mouth as your brain tried to connect the dots. “During the war, I had to let go of a lot of things to think like a true strategist. I had to consider every option and not let sentiments waver me. A lot of decisions that I made during that time cost us lives. I may have been honoured in the end because every decision I made was for the ‘greater good’, but if I was a man of morals, Luna, I would have done things a bit differently.”
For a few moments, you let the familiar pitter-patter of the rain fill the silence of the car following Hongjoong’s admission. You recalled what Kihyun had said about Ateez. Children of war. They had to let their innocence go when they got drafted due to the ‘over-17’ law that ensured all capable individuals over the age of 17 served in the war. They were only teenagers when they went to the war, to fight for their land, but when they returned…
“Is that why you keep your watch with you?” You finally asked. “To remind yourself that you’re not all that moral?”
“Kind of,” Hongjoong shrugged nonchalantly.
“I think it could also be a reminder that you are aware of the fact that you made those decisions. Do they keep you up at night?”
“Often,” he admitted with a slow but sure nod. There was no shame in admitting that the horrors of war kept you up at night when everyone had experienced the same.
“That’s a good sign,” you told him. “Because some of the elites who controlled the tides of war at the backend, who are the real reason Eden lost so many lives… they sleep like babies at night. They carry no remorse or guilt. And my moral compass says that those kinds of humans are no different than animals.”
The boss nodded slowly. He knew that it was true but hearing those words from you somehow left a warm, tingling sensation through his chest.
You noticed how he zoned out and let him be until you spotted the station. “We’re here,” you gently said, bringing him out of his trance. He nodded, dropping the watch back inside his pocket and Taeyong stopped the car, opening the door for Hongjoong. It wasn’t raining as hard now, just a light shower so you both didn’t bother to open the umbrella, though Hongjoong took his inside, hand covering the gold eagle hilt.
You stayed right by his side as you navigated through the musky smelling corridors of the station. It looked like everyone recognised Hongjoong. They either stepped aside and merged with the shadows, essentially clearing the path for him, or scrambled forward to greet him over-enthusiastically. You pursed your lips in amusement– it was clear what sort of relationship he had with each officer.
One of the officers saluted military-style and Hongjoong saluted back. He led you to what you assumed was Inspector Gong’s office and you seated yourselves on the chairs in the small, haphazard room.
“The Inspector will be here shortly. Would you like a drink in the meanwhile, Colonel? Coffee or tea?”
“I’m good, thank you,” Hongjoong said and you shook your head in answer as well. He waited until the officer left before saying, “Their coffee has to be the most stale beverage I’ve ever had the misfortune of trying.”
You half-smiled. “Can’t expect much from a station that looks like this,” you pointed at the peeling paint on the walls and the rough furniture in the room, if you could look past the initial shock of all the disorganization of the reports, boxes and documents. “Was that someone you knew from the military?”
“No,” Hongjoong said. “But he probably recognises me.”
“And the people who recognised you but scurried away like rats?”
“They recognise me better,” Hongjoong smirked and you smiled in resignation.
A few moments later, a middle-aged man with a pile of folders managed to get inside the room without help and set the pile on the desk with a thud, grunting in exhaustion. He ran a hand through his wavy dark hair and muttered something about how it had been awfully busy lately before brushing his simple, creased clothes and straightening.
“I see you made it here.” He cast a wary glance at Hongjoong.
“Better than you coming at mine and poking at everything, trying to find a snark,” Hongjoong mocked and you would have found it amusing had you not been staring at the inspector, finding him oddly familiar. He scanned you slowly and his brows wrinkled.
“I’m sorry, have we met before?”
“I don’t think so?” You weren’t sure.
“She’s my new secretary,” Hongjoong said, glancing at you for a second before turning his attention to the inspector. “Now… what’s this new mess your cops have involved us in?”
“Oh, the drug dealing,” Inspector Gong finally took a seat. “You don’t have to worry about it too much. I found another lead just now so you’re off the hook.”
Hongjoong grunted in annoyance. “Should’ve sent a message then.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you were so eager to clear your name for once,” Inspector Gong said curtly. “We don’t want it to affect your new deal, after all.”
“Whatever might you be talking about?” Hongjoong feigned ignorance but the way the two were smiling at each other, you were sure the communication didn’t need words.
“Who knows? Anyways, I heard you have something interesting for me, which is new. Let’s hear it.”
“Maybe I just came here so I could see you,” the boss teased and Inspector Gong’s smile fell– he was beginning to get tired now. You stifled a smile at your boss’ antics. “Alright, I’ll tell you. You might want to send your leads regarding the drug case to the Edenary Station. And while you’re at it, you might want to take a look at what Park Pharmaceuticals have been up to lately.”
“Park Pharmaceuticals? Park Byung Eun, isn’t that the President's secretary?”
“That’s right,” Hongjoong confirmed. “I heard the drug that you found recently is something new. It’s not uncommon to look into every pharmaceutical company, isn’t that so? Our company, MX, we’re only distributors for now, so you should be looking into companies that actually manufacture.”
“I’m sure someone acquainted with the president won’t have his people using drugs illegally,” Inspector Gong said. “Or he might not be aware that it’s happening. It’s a big company and he can’t have everything under control.”
“Maybe you just need to focus on the source of the drug rather than look for consumers or distributors,” you quipped. Inspector Gong looked at you with curiosity.
“And what’s your name, Miss?”
“Jeon y/n,” you said. “Also, while you investigate… maybe check if some of Assemblyman General Wi’s men have been consuming those drugs. I’m not saying he’s at fault, but like you said earlier, they are a big gang in Edenary and it’s not uncommon for gang members to deal drugs. Right?” You looked at Hongjoong who was stifling a smile. He nodded subtly in your direction.
Inspector Gong watched you two with interest. “Okay. If you insist. Though you might be trying to throw me off the scent.”
“I never said you didn’t have to keep looking into us,” Hongjoong raised his hands in surrender. “But maybe… broaden your horizons a bit.”
With that, Hongjoong got up and you followed. As soon as you both settled in the car, Hongjoong snickered at you. You raised a brow in question.
“Good job there. I can see why the boys have taken a liking to you.”
You couldn’t keep your cheeks from flushing at the remark. You shrugged in answer. “Has he always been stationed here?”
“He was demoted from the Edenary Station a few years ago, actually,” Hongjoong said. “Do you recognise him?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t recall,” you admitted and he nodded. “Do you think he will find something out of this wild goose chase?”
“Definitely. All he needs is a whiff– he’s a hound,” Hongjoong shook his head. “Once he gets a scent of something, he won’t let go until he’s satisfied.”
“Sounds like a person you should keep close,” you commented and Hongjoong agreed.
“Your shift is over, right? Did you have lunch yet?” Hongjoong asked and you shook your head no. “I’m going to the bar– I have a few things to discuss with Yeosang and San. You can stay and have lunch with us, if you would like.”
Have lunch with the boss?
“If you’re going to be our new secretary,” Hongjoong teased– a little joke Seonghwa had a habit of making that you should be Hongjoong’s personal secretary, “You should get used to travelling around with me.”
“You can’t seriously be considering that,” you gave him a wan smile. Hongjoong only grinned in answer, taking that as a yes.
The ride to the bar had you sorting out everything you had learned today. Hongjoong’s connection with Assemblyman General Wi was interesting, especially considering that Hongjoong served under him during the war. Inspector Gong’s familiar face and the fact that he was an Edenary citizen was also something you couldn’t simply dismiss.
Before you knew it, the short trip was over and you were outside the bar. Now that the sky was clearing, Hongjoong clicked a button on his umbrella to extract a cane from it before getting out of the car. You had seen the cane on him sometimes, a beautiful black thing with a golden eagle hilt. You were half sure it was also some sort of a weapon.
Upon entering, the employees greeted their boss and lit up at the sight of you, their old coworker. You greeted them back with equal enthusiasm, taking their jokes and teasing jabs because you with the boss!? Hongjoong went straight to Yeosang’s office and you followed behind him, shutting the door while the men shared a brief hug.
Yeosang was surprised to see you two together. “How come?”
“Thought I’d take our little bookkeeper around and show her how things work around here,” Hongjoong said, taking off his coat and hanging it on the stand. You did the same, feeling a bit awkward due to Hongjoong’s presence– it had always been you and Yeosang, or San.
And well… after your little moment with Yeosang that drunken night, it was your first time seeing him. Now in a deep brown sweater with the sleeves rolled to bare his muscular forearms, his expectant gaze as he looked at you, tendrils of brown hair falling over his face– it wasn’t helping you at all.
Yes. You definitely needed a break.
Yeosang nodded at you in acknowledgement, failing to contain his smile– he was bad at hiding his emotions and Hongjoong just knew that he was pleased to see you here. You took a seat next to Hongjoong in front of the desk.
“So, Luna,” Yeosang started. “How has it been so far? Want to come back to your previous post?”
“Sounds tempting because your boss thinks I can handle more workload,” you pointed at Hongjoong with your thumb and he shook his head.
“Ay, don’t be like that now. I’m keeping her, Yeosang. She knows what she’s doing and I like that.”
You accepted your fate with a dejected sigh and the two shared a laugh. The boys recollected the events since the last time they met while they waited for San to arrive. You noticed how they shared even the trivial things–
“I ate lunch at BB Trippin’ yesterday. You have to try their ramen– I swear I haven’t had such a ramen in ages.”
“Seonghwa and I lost a bet to Yunho and we now owe him 5 krodus. That lucky bastard always wins.”
With the waiter’s call indicating San’s arrival, you shifted to Room no. 1 where San was making sure there was enough food and drinks and at the sight of his boss, he lit up, coming forward to hug him briefly.
And then he saw you and lit up even more, making you laugh a bit. You settled down on the very chair you had sat when Seonghwa had passed his judgement on you– only a few weeks had passed since then but a lot had changed. San’s presence, however, still comforted you just as much as it did before.
As did Yeosang’s, but… it held a weird note today.
While you ate lunch and caught up with each other, Yeosang, who was sitting next to you, nudged you with his elbow and you glared at him, the warning in it melting when you saw the apples of his cheek become more prominent as he tried to stifle a smile. “So… how have you been?”
“I’m right in front of you, Yeosang,” you said as casually as you could. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Missed me?”
“Hmm… not really, no,” you responded, putting a spoonful of rice in your mouth as he smirked. “I’ve been far too busy to think of you.”
“So you do think about me,” he teased.
“It would be unnatural to not think of you,” you feigned normalcy again but Yeosang wasn’t having any of it.
“Say, when do I get the tipsy Luna back? I don’t think I’m a fan of the sober Luna…”
“Tipsy Luna is on leave,” you said. “You can forget her.”
“You don’t mean that, do you?” Yeosang’s voice was low this time and you looked at him, finding caution and hurt– was it hurt? In his eyes.
“Of course not,” you frowned. “Did you miss me that much?”
He relaxed. “I thought I made a mistake.”
“Oh,” you paused, making sure Hongjoong and San weren’t listening. Oh.
He thought he did something wrong and you were avoiding him.
“Yeosang, I–”
“Isn’t that right, Luna?” Hongjoong called your name, grabbing your attention and you passed Yeosang a look that you hoped conveyed ‘we’ll talk later’ before you turned your attention to the boss.
“I was just saying how it was a good idea to take you along at the station,” Hongjoong repeated, glancing between you and Yeosang. “Inspector Gong seems to have taken the bait.”
“Ah, yes,” you nodded, straightening. “I think we might have to make sure he catches some of General Wi’s men with the drugs that are under investigation. And we might have to somehow create a link between those drugs and the drugs registered under Park Pharmaceuticals. After that, the boat will float itself.”
“I’ll have Wooyoung take care of that,” San said. “He knows a lot of street druggies. They’re on his beck and call.”
The man in charge of the manufacturing side of the business along with the youngest of the Crescents– Mingi and Jongho. Yeosang and San often talked about Wooyoung. He was Yeosang’s friend from before they went to the war. While you hadn’t had a chance for personal interactions with the younger ones, they often came at the bar as a group. They knew who you were, called you Luna just like everyone else and would strike up some work-related conversation with you if they weren’t teasing or flirting with you, which seemed to be second-nature to them.
“Does Wooyoung’s street druggies network extend to Edenary?” You asked, an idea nagging at you– an old memory you couldn’t let go of.
San hummed in thought. “Probably?”
“What are you thinking?” Yeosang narrowed his eyes and you looked at Hongjoong who was anticipating your answer.
“Park Sunghoon, my brother, was an addict. My father went through hell and back to get him to stop, but chances are he’s still addicted but just learned to look, well, normal.”
Hongjoong looked at Yeosang triumphantly. “There’s a reason I’m keeping her close.”
Yeosang looked a little proud to hear that and he asked you, “Do you know which drugs exactly was he consuming? Or some details?”
“It was a street dealer, that’s all I caught,” you told him. “Bad company, apparently. Last time I saw him, he appeared more polished than before, but I recognise the look in his eyes when he’s high.”
They didn’t miss your sombre tone, neither did they miss the sudden fiddling of your fingers. However, they decided not to comment on it– for now. It was Hongjoong who cleared his throat. “It’s ironic that the heir to Park Pharmaceuticals is a drug addict himself. I’ll get someone to look into it. Inspector Gong would have a field day once he learns about this.”
You passed a weak smile, willing yourself to not recall your brother’s bad behaviour whenever he was high. Sure, he was your half-brother, but he wanted nothing to do with you. Sometimes you wondered if he was the one who pegged your father to change your surname and wipe you off the family registers. It wouldn’t be a surprise if that was the case.
You all finished your lunch, planning a bit more on how to lead Inspector Gong to Sunghoon before you decided to leave first. You told Yeosang you would grab your coat from his office and leave but he decided to see you off– for obvious reasons.
Once inside his office, you found him watching you with folded arms. You wore your black coat over your clothes, huffing at him.
“Did I do or say something wrong that night?” Yeosang asked.
“No. Why would you think that?”
“You look like you’re avoiding me.”
“I’m not,” your gaze softened. “I’m just… I don’t know, Yeosang. I’m confused, if you can’t tell. I don’t know what I’m looking for, and the fact that you’re worried about what I think about you isn’t helping.”
Yeosang licked his lips, trying to come up with a response to that. He was perhaps as confused as you. Had you both inevitably blurred the lines of who you were? While you worked together, you would dismiss such interactions, but now that you stopped working here, who exactly were you to Yeosang? What was your relationship? You had been boss and employee all this time. Friends, perhaps, but never called it so. And now…
You stepped forward, placing your hand on his bare folded arms for assurance. You wished you had placed it on his heart instead. “You’re still who you are to me and more.”
“Who am I to you?” Yeosang asked, a faint smile on his lips.
“Hmm… favourite boss?” You grinned. “Friend?”
Yeosang nodded. “That’s it?”
“More?” You raised a brow. “I mean… what exactly did you do that would warrant more?”
“Is that a challenge, Luna?” He was smirking now and your heart did a little flip-flop at the way the timbre of his voice shifted.
“Maybe… pretty boy,” you flicked his chest, unable to resist and with a giggle, sneaked past him outside, saying a goodbye before you disappeared, because you were positive that you were worse when sober.
You did look back once, finding Yeosang laughing wholeheartedly at your passing figure and you ingrained the sight in the deepest crevice of your heart.
Kim Hongjoong may be a man of few words, but god, was he a man capable of making decisions on the spot and taking swift action. It was no wonder that he was the man who had built his empire of this scale in such a short period of time. All it took was one meeting about the discrepancies in the import cost of the metal in the Utopian trade, and Hongjoong immediately decided to cut down on the amount of metal, using his connections to cover the shortage of metal with local suppliers and saving a couple thousand krodus in the process.
Apparently, there were other gangs that dealt with weapons production and supplied arms illegally around Eden. The Crescents were better off striking a deal with another gang who possessed the metal alloy they required, or something similar in nature to that metal. Hongjoong acknowledged your efforts for dealing with the matter smoothly.
That led to Seonghwa starting to include you in their meetings now, ‘preparing you’ for personal secretary work. You considered asking him if it was just an excuse to get information out of you (and who knows? maybe dispose of you later) but you figured it was a joke. They couldn’t be serious (right?) and you were doing a fine job as a bookkeeper anyway, providing your input since you were from Edenary and you knew a lot of people– and their weaknesses. They thought it was impressive that Secretary Park had rarely ever involved you in his business yet you had built your own connections and learnt so much about the way Eden operated.
Since there were rumours going around that Secretary Park had been ‘rejected by a mafia gang’, it caught the attention of some investors who were willing to collaborate on a drug launch. Though you still had little to no idea about the drug specifically, the Crescents heard your opinion on the willing parties and you expressed your lack of trust in most of the politicians. That left a few businessmen and you supposed they could do with one of them– someone who was willing to fund properly. The Crescents would just have to make a promising offer.
That left finding out more about Secretary Park’s foreign dealings. You had suggested sending an anonymous tip to General Wi about Secretary Park’s possible connection to Strictland and Yunho got the job done a few days ago. As intended, General Wi traced the tip back to the Crescents and sent a message that he would like to have a meeting with the boss.
“He’s going to be curious about the source,” Hongjoong had a faint smirk on his lips as if calculating all the possibilities of how the world could shift from here. You shifted uncomfortably on the chair in front of him. Hongjoong was watching you with interest. “Do you think we should bring you along to the meeting?”
“General Wi likes to play a diplomat. He would tell my father that I was here once he finds out my connection with him, and then–”
“And then what?” Hongjoong challenged, resting his chin on his hand, elbow propped on his desk. With his other hand, he turned the hourglass, watching the sand trickle down slowly. “It’s only a matter of time that your father finds out that you’ve been talking. Chances are, he is already aware of your new post and will be trying to silence you soon. You should be making your stance clear too, Luna.”
“That would be a declaration of war to him,” you said.
“Have you not been told that you are under the protection of the Crescents from now on?” Hongjoong raised a brow in question. You nodded. “Then I don’t see the problem. Being under our protection entails that we will make sure you remain safe and unharmed.”
“You may have been a gang in the past, Mr. Kim,” you said in a low voice. “But my father also has various gangs at his disposal. Mr. Jeong almost got killed that night.”
“Oh, you’re underestimating him if you think it’s that easy to kill him,” Hongjoong scoffed. “He’s avoided death far too many times to be simply called lucky now.”
You shrugged– that might be true but that did not help you feel any better.
“We are part of the underworld and always will be, y/n, no matter how posh we try to appear,” Hongjoong began. “We are the leaders of the underworld– the underworld that no one escapes from. Secretary Park has always operated from above and he does not know how we play. He may try to get to us with his little gangs or whatever, but he is a man of light.”
“And you are a man of the shadows,” you completed for him. He nodded. “If I join you at the meeting, Major General Wi will think that I am someone of importance– he might even recognise me.”
“Well, aren’t you?” He asked almost nonchalantly. You sighed– they sure had been taking you around everywhere and getting you more acquainted with the business, but was your role in the Crescents this important now?
“I meant to remain in the shadows, Mr. Kim. It was never my intention to step in the light for the world to see.”
“You said you wanted a better life,” Hongjoong locked eyes with you. “A way to avenge the life that was stolen from you because you were too helpless and could do nothing except be pushed wherever your father wanted.”
“Not only that,” you admitted. “My conscience does not allow me to know that my father may be doing something immoral and detrimental to this nation and do nothing about it. I have wasted far too many opportunities because I feared the consequences.”
“And now?”
“Now you’re telling me not to be afraid,” you rested your back on the chair in resignation. “Now you’re telling me to involve myself with you.”
“And what’s so bad about that?” Hongjoong’s smile revealed that he might be hiding something. You knew that– they were dangerous. It was better for you to be with them than to stand against them, but could you follow their journey without looking back? Could you swear loyalty to them?
“It was never your intention to step out in the light and fight for yourself, or for Eden, or for your conscience, but y/n… maybe you were meant to rule from the light and the shadows both.”
You looked at Hongjoong in surprise. He watched you with a certain fondness– his little bookkeeper, he still called you. You could understand why Jaemin and even some others referred to him as ‘the Captain’– he cared and accounted for each one of them. These men… they heard you. They did everything they had to to protect themselves and their family. And now…
Now Kim Hongjoong said that you were a part of their group, and he would have you rule from the light and back you from the shadows if you wished to.
“I’m just a bookkeeper though, aren’t I?” you said but couldn’t stop your lips from curling into a smile.
“Maybe I’ll start calling you my little secretary from now on. How does that sound?”
“Oh, no,” you shook your head. “The workload.”
Hongjoong burst out laughing and you looked down to hide your smile– he had such a carefree, almost childish laugh. You thought about his remark and figured that it must have been Seonghwa’s doing. You knew that Seonghwa was planning something and he had hinted this quite often but to actually be Mr. Kim’s secretary? Was he pulling your leg or was he serious?
“I’m serious,” he confirmed as if he saw right through you. “I need one especially now that I’m going to be stepping into the light too. I’ve operated from the shadows for long enough. Who better to have by my side than someone who knows how the underworld of the elites operate?”
“I’m not sure if I’m the right person,” you said. “I’m from Edenary, yes, and I do know how things work there, but I’ve never been much involved.”
“But so far… you’ve not betrayed our trust once, and that is something I value a lot, Luna. You prevented a disaster when you ran away with the content of Yeosang’s locker that night. You stopped a deal that would have ended very badly for us. And you put yourself in danger to save Yunho– I don’t know who else I would want by my side if not you.”
“That is a high compliment,” you took a deep breath, overwhelmed by his proposition.
“You’re still willing to do so much more,” Hongjoong said, outstretching his hand on the table and you were confused for a moment before you realised that he was waiting for you. You frowned– while Seonghwa had always been casual with his affection, much like a boss with a pat to the shoulder that he often gave to everyone else too, and Yunho had been, well, purposely making you jumpy you were sure, the boss had never done much. Every action of his was motivated by something.
And this might be his attempt at persuasion.
Hongjoong raised a brow as if to ask if you were going to keep making him wait and you rolled your eyes before hesitantly placing your hand in his palm. Hongjoong noticed the pause and almost smirked. His hand was cold but comforting when it held yours.
“You’re still willing to do so much more for Eden,” Hongjoong repeated. “I’m doing all I can for Eden too. We share the same goal, Luna. Don’t ever think that it is a shame that you couldn’t do anything about it earlier– you did everything in your power. You can leave it to me now. All you have to do is stay by our side.”
You must have looked half-convinced because he continued.
“I’m not saying you have to be the secretary yet– I would like you to fully know what it is that we do, and I would like the rest of the boys to meet you and hear their opinion too. I may be the boss but their word is equally as important as mine.”
“A captain, then?” You offered and he grinned.
“Yeosang did well choosing you,” Hongjoong said and your heart fluttered at the mention of him– the actions of that drunken night were keeping you awake in your sober ones. “San speaks highly of you. Yunho, well… I think his intentions are clear. And Seonghwa is the one who convinced me to look at you.”
You raised your brow at his wording– sometimes, the way they spoke with so much implication behind their words made you wonder just what was going on inside their heads. Especially Hongjoong– he knew what he was talking about but he always concealed his intentions carefully.
And you were going to make him more direct with his words. With a caress to his fingers, you locked eyes with him.
“Well… you’re looking at me now, Captain. Do you like what you see?”
For once, he was caught in surprise, his brow raising involuntarily and you grinned inwardly. There was nothing more satisfying than having the leader of this establishment speechless. The person you thought was a scary, stuck-up individual with his even scarier military rankings, turned out to be just a man with big dreams for his people and his land.
Hongjoong raised your joined hands in answer. You bowed your head mockingly.
What a turn of events.
When Seonghwa said that he would like you to accompany him to the warehouse so you could meet the rest of the Crescents officially as a potential secretary to Kim Hongjoong and, well, a ‘crucial unit’ of the Crescents, you didn’t think he would actually let you take a peek at the illegal– or the underworld side of the business.
It was just another dusky day in Sector 1, a bit livelier inside the office than usual during the midday slot. Johnny dropped by and while he waited for Yunho, he struck up a conversation with the three of you– more like recount the events of the night you were attacked at the bar and tell Eunha and Jihoon all about how you had looked like a lost mouse while running away with the content of Yeosang’s locker. He went as far to tell them how you looked even worse when you came out of the meeting room. If it weren’t for Yunho interrupting him, Johnny might have done a reenactment.
You were about to sign off for the day after lunch with Eunha and Jihoon when Seonghwa called you in his office and told you about his plans for the day. You agreed to accompany him to the warehouse, having no other prior engagements until your night shift. With Seonghwa’s bodyguard and assistant Yuta, the three of you took his Ford to the outskirts of Sector 1 near the Sector 8 border. It was only a few miles from the Sector 1 Port so the ride took about forty minutes.
It was surprising how comfortable Seonghwa made that ride for you. He talked about his family and told you that he had two siblings and that his family had moved to Utopia before the war began. His father was already a war veteran and an influential person so he had little to no trouble leaving to protect his family– however, since Seonghwa was of age, he had no choice but to get drafted. You asked him if he missed his family and visited them often but he told you it had been quite a while since he saw them and would like to pay a visit soon, once things settle down here a bit.
Somehow, you found yourself telling him about the time you spent in Wonderland, something you hadn’t really talked about ever since you came back. While the woman you looked after– Madame Cha, wasn’t your aunt by blood, she was someone really wise and with a lot of knowledge to share. You often wondered if your father was aware that Madame Cha would make sure that you learnt everything needed to survive in this sick world as an independent woman. She taught you various practical skills, kept you busy and kept your mind away from home. Perhaps, that was the purpose all along, but even if it was, you were still grateful to her.
Seonghwa asked you more about Wonderland, mentioning that he always wanted to visit the country. Wonder City, the capital, was known for its ruins. It was a place rich with history and the people had done a lot to preserve it. The lavender fields which were symbolic of Wonder City only added to its beauty. It had truly been a healing sight for eyes and you told him that you missed the evening walks through those fields the most.
The scenery shifted from cityscape to factories while you chatted, Yuta joining occasionally– apparently, he was one of the oldest employees and had served in Seonghwa’s unit so the two had almost always been together. You liked that most of the employees were more like ‘friends’ than acquaintances. Johnny was quite the example of just how casual they were with each other. While Yuta was a bit more reserved than Johnny, he was still a very charming man.
One of the factories towards the end of the expressway to Sector 8 was what the Crescents addressed as ‘the warehouse’. It belonged to Pledis Manufacturers where the Crescents were major shareholders and business partners. As the car came to a stop near the building, you heard the sounds of laughter reverberating from the inside accompanied by the harsh sound of machines and metal clanging. There were tables and chairs lining the margins and a few men could be seen eating what you presumed was their lunch. At the sight of your car, they got up and gathered around, making way to you and Seonghwa laughed to himself, shaking his head.
“Easy, boys. We’ve got a guest.”
“Oh, what a sight for sore eyes,” a man of medium stature wearing a casual denim outfit placed his hand over his chest as he bowed dramatically, making you a bit shocked though laughter erupted from your mouth. “I’m Boo Seungkwan, Manager of Pledis Manufacturers, at your service.”
“Pleasure,” you bowed back mockingly, noticing the others dressed just as casually.
“That’s Seokmin,” he introduced the tall guy with a contagious smile, and then pointed to another handsome man. “That’s Jun. We’re all managers here.”
The three exchanged looks filled with caution but Seonghwa nodded to let them know it was alright. “They play a vital role in the production part of the business.”
“Lovely,” you said, following Seonghwa inside and waving back at the three men who were almost jumping up and down while they waved at you. You laughed again, falling in step with Seonghwa. “Do they not get to go home often?”
“Oh, them?” Seonghwa scoffed. “They go home every weekend, but that’s normal behaviour from them.”
You smiled but it changed into a wince when you got hit with a wave of heat and the smell of metal and sweat filled your nostrils upon entering the warehouse, the dim lights making it a bit hard to focus. When your eyes finally adjusted, you gasped at the setup– it was truly something. The centre was an open, double-heighted space with the heaviest machines and Seonghwa told you that the main factory was situated at the very back which was connected to this section by a gate. The upper story seemed to be rooms and offices that were lined along the perimeter.
The workers greeted Seonghwa casually– there was no rushing, no scrambling and no awkwardness. Just comfortable acknowledgement of each other’s presence. You did get stares which wasn’t unexpected and you thought that it was because there weren’t any women here, but you spotted one in a causal fit working on operating one of the machines. Seonghwa told you that she was one of the best engineers they had– Umji.
You greeted a few more people including the CEO of Pledis– Choi Seungcheol. He was in the office just about to leave, dropping by for a visit and was glad to have caught Seonghwa. While the two talked, you settled down and a familiar face entered the office room.
“Oh– Luna!”
You smiled at the enthusiasm with which Jung Wooyoung greeted you.
“Mr. Jung,” you shook hands with him. “How have you been?”
“Ay, just call me Wooyoung,” he waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m not used to people calling me Mr. Jung.”
“That’s what I’ve always called you though…”
“And I always tell you to just call me Wooyoung,” he winked, adjusting his black tank top and slumping down on a chair. “So. How are you finding our workplace?”
“Pretty impressive,” you nodded. “What exactly do you do here?”
“Supervise and make sure we have enough stock,” he said. “Mingi is basically the guard dog and Jongho… he likes to play boss.”
“Oh,” you stifled a smile. “Interesting.”
Wooyoung smiled knowingly and Seungcheol said his farewell, leaving the three of you in the office. Seonghwa smiled at you. “We’ll wait for Mingi and Jongho and then you can get to know more about the business in detail.”
“You’ll have to do a lot,” you shrugged. “I’m not very well-versed in machines and the like.”
Wooyoung and Seonghwa shared a look and you caught that, the dots starting to connect. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be showing me something else entirely.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you might be well-versed in that,” Wooyoung grinned. “At least more than these boring old machine parts.”
You looked at Seonghwa who nodded in confirmation. “Are you sure?”
“I am, which is why I brought you here,” he straightened the navy blue coat of his suit. “After all… you should know these things as Hongjoong’s personal secretary.”
“Ooh, so it is happening,” Wooyoung was grinning shamelessly now. “I just knew they would like you when you made that deal that saved you your life. Not that Seonghwa was going to kill you anyway, right?”
“I don’t quite believe that,” you said. It was true, and Seonghwa only smiled in answer, giving away nothing. “But I think you might have liked me way back, Wooyoung. When you shouted at the bar for the whole world to know–”
“Oh, I’m still sorry for that,” Wooyoung laughed, making you share the sentiment.
It was a funny story– Wooyoung had been drunk and yapping, if you were to put it simply, about losing to the boys in a game of cards two times in a row. While passing a message to Yeosang, you secretly gave Wooyoung a tip, having observed the game and finding their weak spots. Wooyoung won the next game and while pompously boasting about how he had turned the tide of the game, he craned his neck out of the window to shout ‘Luna, I could kiss you right now!’ making half the bar groan at the confession while the other laughed and moved on. You were surprised for a few moments but when Eunbi told you that this was typical Wooyoung, you shrugged the nervousness off.
“But my offer still stands,” Wooyoung winked at you. If it had been anyone else, you would have become a mess. But since Wooyoung was… well, Wooyoung, you rolled your eyes in response and the conversation shifted to recent updates.
It wasn’t long after when the line rang and Wooyoung led you to the backside of the factory, playing the role of a tour guide, to everyone’s amusement. He explained how everything was a perfect cover for their weapons business– the material they used for both the machines and the weapons was more or less the same and in case of an inspection, they simply switched the display and transported the half-made weapons to trucks. The vehicles would sneak the weapons away into the thick forest that was not far from here. It was a perfect cover and since Pledis was an old, renowned manufacturing company, there were little to no inspections.
Sure, the police suspected that the Crescents may be dealing weapons but they would never suspect that they actually made their own weapons now.
Song Mingi and Choi Jongho lit up at the sight of the underboss, sharing fistbumps and hugs. You greeted them and they asked how you were doing, offering you a drink and scolding Wooyoung when they found out he hadn’t offered you anything yet. You assured them that you were okay but the conversation took an amusing turn as they pointed fingers at each other.
Mingi was surprised to learn that you knew your guns– Madame Cha, who was a collector of guns and the like, had shared her knowledge of guns with you a lot in passing and you had been able to retain some. The gun that you carried in your purse, a ruger revolver, had also been a gift from her. It was interesting to learn just what role the Crescents played in the making of these guns and an hour passed by with you simply talking about the mechanism with the boys.
Jongho noticed just how much fun you were having chatting with Yerin, one of the lead designers of the guns, and when you caught them waiting for you, you got flustered. You promised Yerin that you would visit again and have a more in-depth conversation with her and joined the Crescents afterwards. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Oh, no, it’s all good,” Jongho said. “I’m happy to see that you’re having a good time.”
You smiled and checked the time– there was still about two hours until your shift would begin. Jongho cleared his throat, catching your attention and asked, “Would you like to test some weapons before you go back?”
Your eyes widened with excitement at the offer and soon, you were in a car with Jongho driving and Seonghwa in the front seat. Wooyoung, who was sitting next to you in the backseat, explained that they often went to test the guns in a specific part of the forest and since it was hunting grounds anyway, the sounds went unnoticed– and it wasn’t like there were a lot of residents here.
If the police or someone else did notice, they could buy their silence. You shot him a dirty look but you both knew that it was far too easy to buy silence in Eden, especially after the war.
There was also something bothering you ever since you learned about the weapons project, and that was… who exactly were they delivering the weapons to? Were they really the right people to mingle with? What exactly was right and wrong anymore?
You reckoned you could simply ask at this point. Since they intended to involve you in the business, you could ask such things, right? You turned to Wooyoung, about to ask but you caught an incoming speedy truck through the window and a scream got stuck in your throat. You flailed your arm, trying to catch their attention but it looked like Jongho noticed at the same time that you finally managed to yell ‘watch out!’.
Jongho swerved the car to the side just enough to avoid getting yourselves into a horrible car crash but still couldn’t prevent a light bump and you braced yourself as your body rocked to the side violently. Before you could react, you heard the shatter of glass and you screamed this time, Wooyoung grabbing you by the back of your neck and making you crouch down as the fragments of the glass window rained over you.
You looked at Wooyoung in panic who also let his defence down just for a moment as he made sure that you were okay. You nodded and just like that, his gaze turned steel as he raised his head to inspect just who was trying to kill you guys.
“I’m driving– provide cover!” Jongho pressed the pedal with all his might, steering away from the minitruck that was hell bent on crushing you. Wooyoung loaded his gun and started shooting, Seonghwa doing the same from the front but mostly to protect Jongho. You put your hands over your ears for a moment as you tried to make sense of what was happening–
You were under attack. You had almost died.
You scrambled in your purse for the gun, taking it out and loading it. Wooyoung spared you a glance, tsk-ing in disapproval. “We’ve got it, Luna. Just stay down.”
“I’d rather take my chances,” you muttered, but also obeyed him. You stayed crouching down, focusing more on having Wooyoung’s back. Your shot wasn’t bad but Wooyoung was moving a lot so you couldn’t risk shooting in case you hurt him instead. However, when Wooyoung ran out of bullets, you passed him your gun which he gladly took. Meanwhile, you reloaded his gun with the bullets in the inside pocket of his jacket. You noticed the shards of glass buried in his skin but it was too chaotic to comment on that at the moment.
“Recognise them?” Jongho asked before he took a sharp turn to the right, the road getting bumpier now that you were further on the track in the forest.
“Nah,” Wooyoung sniffed, a sharp frown on his face as he took a breather having shot down the tyres of the minitruck and halting it. “Need help, hyung?”
“I’m good,” Seonghwa said, groaning when the car started to leave. He ordered Jongho to turn the car around so they could catch them and you silently prayed that no one gets hurt. Now that you were gathering your wits, you realised how much the air had changed.
They had become the men you used to watch from afar and were a bit afraid of. Ruthless, calculating and powerful.
Jongho stopped the car near the abandoned truck and you all watched the other car disappear into the forest– they had been at a disadvantage or perhaps, they had underestimated you. Whatever the case was, all that mattered to the Crescents was the reason they attacked you.
Jongho and Seonghwa looked back to make sure you were okay. While you were very surprised, you were okay for the most part if you could ignore the erratic heartbeat. While the younger two checked the perimeter, Seonghwa got out of the car and opened the door for you to help you out.
“You must have been shocked,” he said, caressing your gloved hand and frowning at the cut on your cheek, unable to stop himself and tracing it gently.
“I– I’m fine,” you gulped at his actions. “Uh, we should check the car. Does this happen often?”
“Not really,” he ran his hand through his messy long hair in frustration. “Someone’s really got a grudge against us lately.”
You raised a brow as if to say that that wasn’t new and he chuckled a bit, letting go of your hand and going towards the truck. You followed him, making note of the number plate– it was a registered Sector 1 vehicle. The two of you got inside the front seats of the truck, rummaging through the stuff when a certain something caught your eye.
An emblem of a cube within a cube. It might have gone unnoticed by the rest but you could recognise the unofficial emblem of Park Pharmaceuticals anywhere– it was only used personally by your father and you had seen it on some of his old employees’ uniforms and stationery as well.
Seonghwa noticed you staring at the emblem printed on a card and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Your father must have learned that you had joined hands with the Crescents– or at least that you were now someone important to them. He must be suspecting that you were sharing information that you shouldn’t have told a soul. Was this supposed to be a warning, or did he really intend to kill you this time?
And he almost hurt the Crescents too. Wooyoung could have been shot. Seonghwa or Jongho could have gotten seriously injured. Just how low was this man going to stoop?
“Luna,” Seonghwa’s voice sounded again. “Do you recognise this emblem? You need to tell us if you do so we do not point at the wrong people.”
“This was my father’s doing,” you sighed in defeat. “This emblem is something he uses privately within his inner circle and gangs. I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I should have known.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, taking the emblem from you and examining it.
“But it is,” you got out of the truck, going towards the car, your chest tightening with every step because your father almost killed them just because you were acquainted with them. They almost died because of you. And he must have also been the one behind Yunho’s attack– Yunho almost got shot because of you too–
“Luna,” Seonghwa grabbed you by the wrist and shook his head. “Do not blame yourself for something your father did. He intended to kill you.”
“But he almost killed you guys because of me!” You said through gritted teeth, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to calm down. You looked at your side to see Wooyoung and Jongho watching. “I should not have involved myself like this.”
Wooyoung tsk-ed, searching inside his car and taking out a bottle of water. He motioned for you to sit by the tree and you did, thanking him and drinking a few gulps. Jongho sat down beside you, trying to pick a tiny shard of glass that was buried in his wrist.
“I’ve heard about your father,” Jongho said. “Secretary Park Byung Eun. He’s after you, isn’t he? Just because he’s afraid that you’ll spill all his dirty little secrets?”
“Well… yeah, that’s the gist of it,” you took a deep breath. “He must be mad that his own daughter is after him. What parent would kill their child just to silence them?”
You watched Seonghwa and Wooyoung clean the mess of a car, Wooyoung stealing glances at you occasionally. Seonghwa was mostly noting down the details of the truck, saying something about how he needed to find out just which gang your father had employed for this job.
“Some parents don’t need a reason to want to get rid of their child,” Jongho said, looking at you. “They just do it because they’re selfish like that.”
You frowned. Was he talking from personal experience?
“I’m actually an illegitimate child too,” Jongho shared with a smile and your mouth curved like an o in surprise. “My mother is from Eden and my father from Halaland. She gave birth here, which is why I’m considered an Eden citizen, but I spent my early childhood in Halaland. Quite a combination, right?”
He was right. People from Halaland had always been treated with wariness and after the war, it just got worse. They faced discrimination. To be an illegitimate child who was half Hala…
“I guess we do have something in common then,” you shrugged, Jongho laughing at your joke.
“The reason I’m telling you this, Luna, is because the fact that I am both of these has never hindered my path,” he said and you turned your attention to him. “Hongjoong and the others, they never discriminated. We were all children of war and we bonded with each other because we have more in common-like values and morals. Not family background or useless things like that. And you… just because you’re unwanted does not mean you have to bend under your father’s will.”
“I have not,” you shook your head. “I am resisting. I’m just trying to be careful, because this is what happens when I slip.”
“This did not happen because you were careless,” he assured you. “This happened because he is scared of you, Luna. Don’t you realise? He’s scared he will be exposed because you know that he has joined hands with Strictland. He’s scared that you will uncover the truth and expose him. If he gets exposed, he will lose everything and so will the people he has associated with. Are you gonna let him stomp over you, or are you going to try to be one step ahead?”
You clasped your hands in thought– he wasn’t wrong. You had just been too cowardly to see it.
“Jongho’s right,” Wooyoung joined you, Seonghwa watching with a smile. “Show them what you’re made of, Luna. Accept the secretary position with your whole heart and use us to take your revenge on him– after all, we share the same goals.”
“Where did that come from,” you laughed, finally feeling calmer when Wooyoung grinned back. “What is it to you if I become his secretary?”
“My precious Luna,” he teased, grinning cheekily. “You really think we’re asking you to be the secretary here? You’re already one right now.”
“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa warned but Wooyoung waved a hand.
“I mean,” he said, “Being Hongjoong’s personal secretary, or assistant, or whatever you call it… it will just be a term. What we’re really asking you is to become a part of our inner circle. We’re asking you to walk with us, plan with us, help us so we can help you. It’s more like being a partner, isn’t it?”
“That’s… a lot,” you laughed nervously, overwhelmed by his proposition.
“But we need you,” he said matter-of-factly. “And so do you. Neither of us can do this without each other.”
He was right. They could get more information on whatever Secretary Park was doing, but you still had so much more that you were keeping from them. To be a part of their inner circle, be a part of Ateez was what they were asking from you. Being Hongjoong’s personal secretary would just be the job you would officially do but really–
You walked with them. Dined with them. Planned with them, even now. No one else did it like you were doing. You were already a part of them, whether you liked it or not.
Not that you were complaining. They had treated you with more respect and given you more authority than you’d ever gotten in your life. You were seen and you were heard here. It was overwhelming but if you looked past that…
It was kind of heartwarming.
“We’re here to protect each other,” Seonghwa said, having noticed your features shift from nervousness to acceptance. “And that means that we will protect you, and you will protect us. It doesn't matter who you are or what your background is. Our goals are the same.”
“For Eden,” you said, looking at them. “Are we really doing this for Eden? Will it really benefit our homeland?”
“You must have some doubts about what we do. Rightfully so,” Seonghwa nodded, offering you his hand and you grabbed it, getting up. “You can ask me anything, Luna. On our way back– it’s getting dark, and we really must get going now.”
You went back to the warehouse first to switch cars. You were worried Mingi would be angry but he was surprisingly only glad that you all made it back in one piece. They offered to patch you up but you told them you really did not want to be late for your shift which made them laugh. It was only a scratch so you could take care of it in the office. The trio let you go with a can of beer for the way back ‘to calm your nerves’. You gladly accepted.
Seonghwa told you that it was okay to ask– apparently, Yuta was one of the insiders too. So candidly, you asked him why exactly did they need to manufacture their own weapons.
You learned that Eden had actually suffered in the war more than you imagined with a lot of soldiers having gone missing, suspected of defecting or worse. A lot of the existing weapons channels had also either shut down or stopped business for unknown reasons. The underworld dealing came to a halt for some time after the war and while the treaty between Halaland and Eden ensured that there wouldn’t be a war in the foreseeable future, if Halaland learned that Eden was basically defenceless, they might start something again.
Seonghwa also told you that Eden’s military could not be trusted because their sole purpose seemed to be power and politics, referring to the clashes ex-President Son had with the military when they enforced the ‘over-17’ law. Hence, a few old gangs like MX and others resumed the weapons dealing and even collaborated with gangs from Wonderland and Utopia.
You told Seonghwa that you had qualms about their drug project too but he promised that they would tell you the details soon. You understood and a few minutes later, you reached the Crescent office. You still had some time to spare so you freshened up before going upstairs.
You were arranging your things at the desk and just taking a breather when the door to Yunho’s office opened. Seonghwa appeared to be leaving. Yunho followed behind and they exchanged a few words before Seonghwa disappeared downstairs and Yunho turned his attention to you.
You had to admit it, you missed him a little. He hadn’t been in the office a lot recently, probably busy with other things, but he appeared as sophisticated as ever in his black button down shirt and cream slacks. He smiled at you faintly, slowly walking towards you and shaking his head.
“You need to do something about that,” he pointed at your cheek. You had taken a look at it in the mirror earlier in the bathroom– the blood had crusted so you let it be. You didn’t have any band-aids in your purse and decided to start keeping some.
“Good evening to you too. It’s only a scratch,” you said and Yunho shook his head.
“Come to my room,” he said, not waiting to hear a response and you huffed, surrendering and following him. He was rummaging through his drawers and found the little first-aid box, bringing it towards the couch and beckoning you to sit.
“A simple bandage would do,” you started but he raised a finger in warning and that shut you up pretty quick. He settled down next to you and took out a bottle of disinfectant and a cotton pad, soaking it in and then turning towards you. You extended your hand so he could pass you the pad but he ignored that, leaning in to do the job himself. You reflexively shut your eyes as his hand neared your face and he didn’t miss that.
Your heart rate picked up and you willed your eyes to open, finding him watching you with curiosity. He cleaned the scratch, his brows furrowing in concentration and then he discarded the pad, taking out a box of salve. This time, he picked some on his index finger and you pursed your lips to keep a comment from popping out of your mouth.
With the pad of his thumb, he turned your face sideways so he could properly see the scratch and then he started applying the salve. You took a deep breath, the air thick with tension. He decided to break the silence.
“Are you okay? You must have been shocked,” he said.
“Yeah, I was,” you admitted. “But I recovered pretty quick this time.”
“Ah, did you?” A smirk made its way on his lips as he finished applying the ointment, now opening the bandaid. You just knew he was thinking about that night when you freaked out when he was going to be attacked and kept him close so he wouldn’t risk his life trying to find answers.
“Yes. I owe that to Wooyoung and Jongho,” you huffed. “They are good with words.”
“Was I not?” He asked, referring to that night.
“They also let me use my gun,” you half-lied but when he gave you the look, you rolled your eyes. “Okay, technically, I only loaded it for Wooyoung. He’s the one who used it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they wouldn’t let you get your hands dirty,” he chuckled, carefully applying the band-aid over the scar.
“Maybe I’ll need to,” you shrugged and he looked at you. “I should learn how to use the gun properly if I’m keeping it. I mean, I do know how to use it but I lack practice.”
“But you shouldn’t actually use it,” he reprimanded but you shook your head.
“I need to learn to protect myself… and protect you.”
He looked at you in surprise and you continued. “All of you. If you claim to have my back, I should return the favour. I should be able to protect myself, not be a burden to you guys, and protect you all in return.”
“Luna… you really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Yunho assured you calmly. “And you’re not a burden to us. Don’t ever think that.”
“I can’t just sit back and watch you guys risk your life trying to protect me from someone who’s after me!” You started. “You can try to convince me that it’s not my fault that you almost got shot that night or the boys almost got hurt today, but I know it’s my fault.”
“Luna–”
“Yes, it’s not exactly my fault,” you rambled on. “It’s my father’s. But the fact is that he is after me and if to get to me he needs to wipe out all of you, he will, just so he can continue with his awful dealings that I’m sure will cost Eden something–”
“Y/n,” Yunho scooted forward, taking both your hands in his and intertwining them, making you stop mid-sentence. He took a deep breath, watching how your small hands fit in his and when you looked at your joined hands, your heart melted at the way his fingers gently caressed yours. “Are you done now?”
You didn’t respond and he tried not to comment on how you always shut up when you were in close proximity with him or, well, whenever he was touching you. He took a deep breath.
“You’re ours now,” he locked eyes with you, his tone almost containing a hint of warning in them that made your heart sink a little. “You’re a Crescent now, a part of our team, and that means that you will protect us in any way that you can, and we will return the favour. The information that you provide us with… that is our protection, and that is enough. If you wish to learn defence or offence, sure. I won’t stop you. But it should only be to protect yourself, okay?”
You pursed your lips but he was being adamant, squeezing your hands a little. “We would have gotten in trouble with Secretary Park one day anyway. Eventually, our secret drug project was going to lead us to him and it could have taken an even more dangerous turn. But what happened today… that is enough. He’s crossing a line. I will send him a message, and I will make it clear that you are under our protection and we will not tolerate any more misbehaviour from him. Is that okay?”
“He will consider it a call for war,” you warned him. “He will not stop.”
“So be it,” Yunho smiled almost sadistically. “We are children of war, all of us, aren’t we? The personal battles too. We are survivors, you and I. He won’t know what’s coming for him.”
You nodded in answer, looking down. You weren’t sure you were ever going to get used to someone treating you not just as an equal but offering you their power and so much more. But Yunho… he always knew just what was going on in your head. He drew back one of his hands from your hold only to draw it towards your face, lifting your chin up so you would look at him.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
It must have been an order because his gaze compelled you to spill.
“It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that you’re all doing this… willingly. For me.”
Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “For you, and for us. Get used to this treatment, princess.”
With an affectionate tap to your cheek, he drew back and started packing the kit. You sat there, baffled at what he just said and also, taking the loss of his touch to your heart. When he looked at you, your hand seemed to be outstretched as if you aimed to rest it on his back. You drew it away but he caught that, raising a brow.
“Princess? Really?” you asked, making him laugh.
“I can do worse too,” he offered and you shook your head, about to leave but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, a surprised yelp escaping your mouth when you found his face way too close to yours, his eyes searching yours for answers that you didn’t possess yet. You felt the urge to draw his ruffled hair away from his forehead. His gaze flickered to your lips and god, he was going to be the death of you.
“No thanks,” you scoffed in answer but then he purposely raised your hand slowly, shifting his hold so he could kiss your knuckles softly, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. Your own lips parted in surprise at his actions– he was crossing the line, but–
What line? The question hung in the air as he waited for you to challenge him, to respond to him.
What line, really.
“Is this a challenge?” You dared to ask.
“If you make it to be,” he responded, eagerly waiting for you to make the next move.
And oh, he did not realise that you would never back down from a challenge. You licked your lips, leaning forward and smiling in satisfaction when he started tilting his face, expecting the obvious. You drew closer until you were inches away and when his eyes fluttered shut, you made your move.
You blew lightly at the tip of his nose, earning a shocked sound from him and with an almost childish giggle erupting from your mouth, you backed away and started to go towards the door, looking back to find him flustered but amused. You saluted mockingly, making him laugh before you shut the door.
Oh. You were done for.
next chapter
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“every season is one of becoming, but not always one of blooming. be gracious with your ever-evolving self.” — b. oakman
the essence of youth is summers with you
poly surfers!ateez x childhood best friend!reader (38.7k)
when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands–choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?
our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom
poly hockey team!ateez x coach!reader (37.6k)
you become the new coach of the elite men's ice hockey team, the red devils. but with both yourself and the team carrying burdens of the past, you all find it difficult to see eye to eye. as you lead them to the championships in the korean ice hockey league, you discover that teamwork and trust is not as straightforward as it seems.
and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky
Hello! Thank you very much for letting me know. Tagging other writers affected: @songmingisthighs @haihoneys
In addition, I am linking the recognition and call-out post in response to this case, by SMT, here.
Dear all, please find all relevant information below about @user777h, and do consider blocking them and reporting posts.
I personally would prefer for this to be dealt with in a regulated and organised manner. I do not tolerate this behaviour, and would highly appreciate a positive resolution in the favour of supporting original content.
General announcement:
Plagiarism of any form is not to be taken lightly, and does have a number of repercussions, including legal. When a work is posted on Tumblr, the copyright generally belongs to the original poster as the creator, meaning they retain ownership of their intellectual property. Any reposting and unauthorised use of the original poster's content can therefore be investigated as a case of copyright infringement.
Considering that two of user777h's posts contain work from 'Literotica', regulations and actions taken on the authors' end there should also be considered.
Below please find more detailed information on user777h.
General information on user777h:
According to Tumblr Archive, this blog has existed only since late January, at least according to when the first post was shared. There appears to be no information on the owner of the blog aside from the plagiarised work which shall be explored later in the evidence section.
To avoid any further speculation 'General information' section shall remain open for the time being, however it is important to note that as two of the works are of a mature nature, so additional scrutiny is to be applied concerning the age of user777h.
The above communication has been sent to user777h on the 2nd of February, 2025, asking them to voluntarily delete the plagiarised content, as well as warning them about further actions, should the request not be followed. Unfortunately, this message was met with no response as of yet.
Evidence of plagiarism committed by user777h
Please see below the evidence showing instances of plagiarism committed by user777h. In all instances, the left item presented is the original work, while the right is what has been plagiarised by user777h.
Exhibit (A) - 23:13 PM by @/hwaightme. Theft of moodboard. Original post date: 17th November, 2024. Plagiarised on January 28th, 2025.
Exhibit (B) - Baby Baby by @/songmingisthighs. Theft of moodboard. Original post date: 12th September, 2024. Plagiarised on January 26th, 2025.
Exhibit (C) - Afternoon Delight by @/haihoneys. Theft of moodboard. Original post date: 19th January, 2025. Plagiarised on January 27th, 2025.
Exhibit (D) - When Sir Gets Home from Literotica (link)
Original posted on 17th August, 2023. Plagiarised on 26th January, 2025.
Exhibit (E) - A Wife's First Date Ch. 03 from Literotica (link)
Original posted on 24th January, 2025. Plagiarised on 27th January, 2025.
The evidence list can and will be updated if/when necessary.
In closing
Plagiarism is not tolerated in any form.
user777h has plagiarised moodboards and writing of multiple creators, as can be seen in the evidence collected above, and has not made a voluntary move to apologise, change their behaviour and delete this content.
To avoid any further troubles and resolve this situation peacefully, I kindly ask of anyone who can to please report and block user777h.
"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."
masterlist
ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au
chapter warnings: drinking, illegal businesses, mentions of violence, war/military and weapons, the designated assholes be warming up now, yunho is trying his utmost best to confuse tf out of you.
chapter wc: 11.8k
chapter synopsis: yunho verifies with kihyun that secretary park is not the man for their new deal and hongjoong makes the connection, finding out who your father is. no longer having to hide your identity, you candidly discuss what you know about the strictland nuclear base and who might be involved other than secretary park. you save yunho from an attack which shifts your relationship with him. overwhelmed, you find yeosang at the crescent bar who hears you out and comforts you.
prev chapter recap: you learn more about the crescent’s past– as ateez, the gang, and their accomplishments in the war that earned them respect. while you get familiar with your job at the main office, you meet the young informant jaemin who refers to the boss as ‘the captain’. seonghwa continues to question your background but you only warn him to be careful making deals with secretary park. you finally meet the boss hongjoong who barely acknowledges you, and you complain about the recent events to san at the bar who assures you that your new bosses are just human if you look past their big, scary titles. convinced, you make a decision and warn the bosses directly to not make the deal with secretary park and reveal his connection with strictland. however, they have trouble taking your word for it and hongjoong reminds you that you are just a bookkeeper, though he instructs yunho and seonghwa to look into your connection with secretary park.
You had never dreaded a shift as much as you were dreading the night shift the day after Kim Hongjoong showed you your place by reminding you that you were just a bookkeeper. His words still rang in your head over and over, asserting that you were no one of importance.
“You have a lot of audacity to come in here and make claims about a business you are not a part of, and people you don’t know enough about. Possessing such audacity is what almost cost you your life that night, and what is tempting me to retract the deal my partners made behind my back.”
Hongjoong had made it clear that he wanted you to stop interfering in their deals and it was honestly a surprise that the man didn’t shoot you in the head last night. He wasn’t known to be merciful, so you had probably used up a good bit of your luck considering how you weren’t fired from your job. If he was going to keep you still, he would definitely be digging into your past and you were preparing yourself to deal with the consequences of your actions. If they found out that you were Secretary Park’s daughter and told him about what you said… you would be in huge, huge trouble.
You should not have blindly trusted the Crescents. If they were just a mere business organisation, maybe they would have believed you but they were Ateez too– a gang who clawed their way up, fighting tooth and nail for a place in this world which they eventually and rightfully earned. Yeosang and San may have told you that the Crescents were good people at heart but Kihyun was also right– they were children of war, and they could fight their own battles. They did not need a mere bookkeeper with a shady past to help them out and save them from deals that could go wrong in the future.
In the midst of this hopelessness, the feelings of guilt over keeping state secrets to yourself were eating you up. You wished you could share those secrets with someone who actually cared for their land rather than wielding that secret like a threat to satisfy their selfish desires. What you carried with yourself was a burden too heavy for your shoulders and you didn’t know how long you could last before you would get crushed under it. Perhaps, what drove you mad was the fact that no one could be trusted. You had no idea who was involved in that sick scheme– it could be anyone.
No one would take your word for it. You had been at the wrong place, at the wrong time, hearing something that should have never passed anywhere near your ears. You saw your father engage in discussion with a man that you did not recognise, but what you heard was enough to make you lose your footing and trip on the ground with a loud thud, unable to function properly because of the gravity of those words.
Your father discovered you eavesdropping on him and that was when things took an ugly turn for you. If Kihyun hadn’t been present in another room, waiting for your father at that time, there would have been no one to stop the man from trying to wring the truth out of his own daughter in the most despicable, threatening manner. You would have met a fate much worse than him wiping your name off the family registers and sending you to Wonderland.
You shivered involuntarily at the thought, glad you were alone in the office and no one had noticed you staring into the distance and picking on the skin near your nails. The words you had heard years ago replayed in your head, the memory as clear as day even after all this time, refusing to be forgotten.
“Halaland knew we had joined hands with Strictland’s nuclear operation officials so they did what they had to protect themselves.”
Strictland was a piece of land that had always been a part of Halaland, but had also always fought for independence. For a good few decades now, it had earned itself the status of an occupied nation under Halaland’s military control. It was always a sensitive matter, for Strictland was home to a nuclear base that had once been functional but long since shut down on the basis of the amended international peace laws that made sure that no country on this continent created or owned nuclear weapons. So why was there talk about Strictland’s nuclear operation officials going on if the base was supposed to be shut for a good thirty years now? And most importantly–
What exactly did Halaland do to protect itself? Was it the long, bloody war that lasted four years during President Son’s second presidential term, beginning from 1958? The war was triggered by bombing in Halaland near Strictland, and Halaland had accused Eden and sent forces soon after. The war came to a sudden end after President Son proposed the Treaty of the Eight Hills, ensuring peace. Post-treaty, things with Halaland were strained, sure, but nothing has been amiss so far.
Strictland’s nuclear base could not be active and not cause a stir in the continent, so why did it seem like something was happening under wraps? Could the base be functional and be the reason why Halaland refused to grant Strictland the status of an independent nation?
And just who was aware of this information? Your father was a secretary to Mr. Lee Jinwook who was just an assemblyman at that time. Today, he was the current president of Eden with your father still as his secretary. Was there a chance that President Lee knew what your father was up to?
“Luna?”
You looked up to find Yunho, of all the people, standing not too far, leaning against the wall. His watchful gaze travelled from your zoned-out eyes to the marred skin on your thumb, taking notice of all the picking that you had been doing while thinking.
“Are you… alright?”
“Sorry, I’m alright, I was just… thinking,” you said, straightening and arranging your desk. “How can I help you, Mr. Jeong?”
Yunho frowned at your very formal tone, waiting for you to say something but you kept a straight face. “I just… saw you zoning out and called to make sure that you were alright.”
Oh. You licked your lips, looking at your thumb– yikes. “Thank you, Mr. Jeong. I was just taking a little breather. I will get back to work now.”
“That’s not why I–” Yunho began but paused when you picked up a page and started scribbling on it. You were ignoring him on purpose. You were being professional, he thought, probably a bit hurt by how Hongjoong had dealt with you last night. He had heard about it, but he wished he could tell you that they did take your words into consideration.
However, you would probably learn from Hongjoong and Seonghwa themselves after they would be back from their meeting with Secretary Park– which would be in about an hour. Yunho sighed deeply and went back to his room, shutting the door with a bit of an unintentional slam. He sagged into the chair, rubbing his face.
Maybe he should have told you that he called your name twice before you answered. He would have been on his way unnoticed by you but he caught you staring intently into the distance and thought something was wrong.
He had just come back to the office after meeting with Hongjoong and Seonghwa and telling them about his meeting with Kihyun earlier in the morning, where he finally briefed him about the potential deal with Secretary Park as someone who would fund their project and approve the launch of their new drug in the pharmaworld.
“That man is not a good choice, Yunho.” Kihyun said with an adamant shake after Yunho finished telling him the details.
“Why?” Yunho asked. “He is going to become the next Minister of Health. I can’t think of a better choice.”
“People are not all that they seem to be, as you must know by now,” Kihyun spun the pen between his fingers as he said. “Secretary Park… he treads a dangerous path. If you involve yourself with him now, he will take what you have to offer, wring you dry and abolish any remains of your business. As someone who has been acquainted with him in the past, can’t you take my word for it?”
Yunho believed Kihyun– he was one of his closest friends and his gang had helped Ateez become who they were today. So, he decided to ask something a bit personal instead.
“Jeon y/n… she warned us about Secretary Park. She said he is conspiring with Strictland officials to do something illegal and immoral. She offered better options like ex-president Mr. Son or Assemblyman Kim Jooheon.”
“You know,” Kihyun chuckled at that. “She has a knack for these things, she does. And what she has to offer to you is credible, if you can believe it. It’s only a shame that we’re close to retiring and aren’t as ambitious as you, otherwise we would have kept her all to ourselves.”
Somehow, Yunho felt both pride and jealousy to hear that. Pride that you were a part of the Crescents, and jealousy because Kihyun knew you better than he did.
“Who is she really, Kihyun? And why is she helping us?”
“Didn’t she tell you already?” Kihyun smiled in answer. “She only wants you to help her and when it’s time, she’ll use the power you have to take her revenge.”
Unfinished business. Yunho recalled what you had said that night when you made a deal with them for your life.
“I’ll only ask this of you, Yunho,” Kihyun’s smile fell and he leaned forward. “A favour, if you want to call it that, but… don’t hurt her. Protect her. Use her if you have to– she has a lot to offer, and she is well-educated and sharp. She possesses information that could shake not only Eden but the entire continent. She can help you navigate through the dark waters of the underworld. You’ll only have to trust her a little and allow her to trust you back.”
Those words stuck with Yunho for the next hour until the boss and the underboss arrived back from the meeting with Secretary Park. The room filled with silence and palpable tension as Hongjoong and Seonghwa settled down on the sofas, each absently staring at the ceiling or the plant that was in dire need of watering.
“Well?” Yunho decided one minute was enough for them to sort their thoughts out. “Did you end up shaking hands with Secretary Park?”
“Of course not,” Hongjoong took a deep breath. “Not after what Kihyun had to say about our little bookkeeper.”
“Her name’s Luna,” Yunho scoffed at the term Hongjoong kept using to address you and Hongjoong grinned at Yunho’s immediate correction. “It’s just funny that you refuse to say her name when you literally address everyone by their surnames. You don’t even call her Jeon.”
“She’s not even a Jeon,” Seonghwa sighed. “I contacted the RV spies today– Wendy. She refuses to talk about her and told me to save my time and not look for her family. Do you know what that means?”
“That that is exactly what we need to find out?” Hongjoong quipped.
“That her family must be someone influential in Eden. Considering what she knows… she sounds like an insider. A citizen of Edenary, if I have to make a wild guess because no one from the eight sectors could have possessed so much information only to hide in the shadows.”
“Or that,” Hongjoong scoffed, agreeing with Seonghwa. “If she really is from Edenary, she would have either worked there long enough to know these things or… she has family there.”
“I can’t find any information on her– no one in Sector 1 knows her from before 1966, when she came back from Wonderland,” Seonghwa said. “And Secretary Park reacted strangely when we mentioned that we’re reluctant to make a deal with him because of his connection with foreigners.”
“How so?” Yunho asked.
“He wasn’t fazed at all. It was as if he saw it coming, which can only mean one thing…”
The heavy implications of what Seonghwa said filled the room as the three struggled to make sense of it.
“Is there a chance Secretary Park didn’t react because he didn’t know what you were talking about?” Yunho asked cautiously, willing to entertain every possibility right now.
“No,” Hongjoong said, sure about this. “The look in his eyes wasn’t of surprise, it was more of an acceptance. That can only mean that he knew that there was a chance we would be aware of his dealing with Strictland. He can’t have gone and told every other person that he was involved with Strictland, right?”
“Which means he somehow knows that Luna is aware of this knowledge, or he personally knows her– isn’t Kihyun acquainted with Secretary Park? And he refuses to talk about her too?” Seonghwa asked.
Yunho nodded. “And you’re saying the RV spies refused to reveal her identity?”
“Then we have no choice but to ask her,” Hongjoong clapped his hands in conclusion. “Call her.”
“Are you sure?” Seonghwa straightened. “You made it pretty clear last night that she should just stick to her desk.”
“You know that was necessary,” Hongjoong folded his arms. “Things have changed now.”
Yunho got up slowly, footsteps heavy with thought. “I’ll call her inside, but can you both let me do the talking this time?”
While Hongjoong looked surprised, Seonghwa merely smiled knowingly. “Don’t tell me you’ve already taken a liking to her, Yunho.”
Yunho rolled his eyes in amusement before walking outside. Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa in disbelief. “He didn’t deny it. What have you all been doing with her behind my back?”
“Nothing,” Seonghwa chuckled. “But the boys seemed to have taken a liking for our bookkeeper.”
“And you?” Hongjoong cocked his head in curiosity but Seonghwa’s smile revealed nothing to him. Even after all these years, Hongjoong wondered how Seonghwa could hide his feelings from him when he wanted to. Even when he was the one who knew Seonghwa the best.
“Let’s talk about it later,” Seonghwa promised in a whisper.
You entered the room behind Yunho, preparing yourself for whatever was about to happen– for once, you have no idea what. Yunho had been pretty calm when he told you that the boss would like to see you, even waiting for you to follow him which you thought was a bit odd. You greeted the men with a ‘good evening’ and the boss motioned for you to sit next to Seonghwa. It was oddly relieving to have him by your side.
Hongjoong was about to say something but Yunho rested a hand on his thigh, making him pause and relax back instead. You noted the little exchange– it was strange to see the boss submit under someone who was third-in-command. Yunho looked at you, offering a small smile before starting.
“We did not sign the deal with Secretary Park. We only mentioned that we intended to keep our business out of the spotlight for now and it would not be beneficial for us to involve ourselves with someone who was dealing with foreigners.”
You exhaled deeply after hearing that– a bit in relief and a bit in grim acceptance. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“We also noted that he didn’t react when we told him our reasons. Secretary Park… you know him personally, don’t you?”
This time, you chose not to run your mouth, opting for silence. Yunho played with the silver button of his black form-fitting waistcoat, and you fixated your gaze over the silver ring that he wore on his index finger with infinity signs, a ring that all of Ateez wore. They seemed to have a lot of staple jewellery and accessories, like the gold pocket watch the boss had on him at all times, even tonight in his dark brown three-piece.
“I met with Kihyun today, Luna,” Yunho continued and your eyes widened a little– whatever did Kihyun say? “He’s one of our mentors and I take his words seriously. He confirmed Secretary Park was not the man to make such a deal with, and he also said that you had a lot to offer.”
You stifled a smile at that. “What is this really about, Mr. Jeong?”
“Secretary Park… you’re acquainted or even related to him in some way, aren’t you?”
Your smile visibly fell which didn’t go unnoticed. This time, Seonghwa shifted closer, keeping a respectable distance from you as he said, “We’re willing to trust you and involve you in future business dealings if you’re willing to share some information that we should be aware of, before we make this deal with you.”
“I appreciate your kind offer, but I really am only a bookkeeper,” you said, an intentional jab towards the boss himself.
Hongjoong poked his tongue inside his cheek, clearly amused at your challenge. Did you want him to beg? To say please?
“You are also a part of Crescent now, and that means you’re not just a bookkeeper, like Hongjoong might have said last night,” Yunho insisted. “We could find out what your relationship with Secretary Park is through other means but we decided to ask you instead.”
“Then use your other means,” you said with immense effort, tired of this little game. “I belong to the shadows and I will remain there.”
You got up to leave, straightening your maroon skirt. You only took a few steps when you heard the boss’ voice.
“You don’t happen to be the illegitimate daughter of Secretary Park, eh? The one he liked to pretend was his niece instead?”
You didn’t simply stop in your tracks but every muscle in your body tensed. With dread creeping through your nerves, you turned to look at the boss, finding the others equally as surprised at his deduction. Hongjoong’s smirk widened and his eyes gleamed dangerously at the fear in your eyes.
He got up, approaching you slowly. “I’ve been to his house only once, towards the end of the war. Year 1962. He was looking for workers and I was only a colonel at that time, yet to be honoured. I saw his family portrait– he has a son that looks just like him. And then I saw a glimpse of a girl who was looking for her father. Upon asking a servant if the man had other children, they let me know that she was his illegitimate daughter and he pretended that she was his niece.”
Hongjoong noted the way that you gulped and your eyes darted among the three men as if gauging their reactions and trying to find a way out. He continued.
“They said it was understandable because other than the fact that illegitimate kids aren’t treated with respect around here, he was a striving politician and she would only hinder his career. I didn’t realise the little bird left its cage, though…”
“I– I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” you tried but he shook his head.
“We’re going to find one way or another. It’s better if we just hear it from you so we can move on and address the more important matters… Luna.”
You looked at the boss– while he didn’t tower over you like Yunho did, he certainly was more intimidating. His gaze was sharper, his stance more confident and almost bordering on arrogance and his presence was consuming, almost luring.
You could not win.
“Alright, fine,” you gave in, walking back to your seat next to Seonghwa who looked thoroughly amused even though he tried not to appear so. “Yes. I am his daughter– illegitimate daughter. Don’t ask me who the mother is– I don’t know.”
Yunho sucked in his breath in disbelief. “Is that who you’re so scared of?”
“Not just him,” you shook your head. “There are other forces at play. He was just a pharmaceutical business owner at that time– he could not have dealt with Strictland on his own.”
Seonghwa agreed. “Is there anyone you suspect?”
“I don’t know. President Lee seems like the likelier suspect but he’s far too clean for that, which is a bit suspicious. It could be anyone from Eden Hall– another assemblyman or some existing minister or cabinet members. All I know is that what they’re doing is very dangerous. I know more, but I really need to confirm a few things before I can confide in you.”
“Well,” Hongjoong shifted his weight on one leg, thinking. “This certainly changes things. I still need to check a few things about you,” he looked pointedly at you, “but you can continue your bookkeeping duties for now. I’ll see what I’ll do with you later.”
“If you feel like you should share a warning with us at any time, since you know exactly what deals we make on a daily business,” Seonghwa said, his tone unexpectedly warm, “you can let us know. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have asked for Kihyun’s opinion and proceeded with the deal and suffered damage. We owe you one.”
“That’s alright,” you said but he shook his head, insistent. “Can you just keep this a secret? As you must realise now, Secretary Park has gone to great lengths to hide my identity from the world. The fact that he even let me come back to Eden… he might be regretting it now. I can only warn you that he might try to attack me in the future which means someone else could get hurt too.”
“That’s unfortunate. Thank you for letting us know,” Hongjoong gave you a nod and you felt almost reassured. You looked at Yunho who was simply watching you with eyes full of curiosity.
“I’ll go back to the desk now and finish compiling today’s reports,” you said.
“Great, you can leave them with Yunho later,” Seonghwa said. “I have somewhere to be with Hongjoong. Let’s go.”
You had half an hour to complete that report and you came back to that room, knocking before entering. Yunho was still where he sat before and you discussed the report with him before getting up to put it in the cupboard and preparing to go home.
You were putting on your coat and gathering your belongings when Yunho joined you at your desk, his own overcoat in hand. “Care for a stroll?”
You looked at him in surprise but nodded, following him downstairs– he must have a lot of questions. He locked the office behind him and greeted the guard, nudging you towards the main street. Since it was past midnight and this was a business street, it was pretty empty. The offices were shut with only the guards stationed outside trying to keep awake in the lonely hours, or keeping each other company over a little fire in the tub.
You walked in silence for a few moments with only the sound of the cackling of fire and your footsteps accompanying you before he finally asked if you had ever felt targeted while working for the Crescents.
“Up until now, no,” you told him. “But after my father wiped my name off the registers of Eden and gave me a new identity… sometimes it feels like I’m being watched. He wasn’t surprised to hear that you knew about his deal with Strictland, was he?”
“We never explicitly mentioned Strictland but yes, he wasn’t surprised in the least,” Yunho said. “He must have known that you are working here.”
“He probably knew about my job at the bar, at least,” you said. “He has always made sure that I never interacted with someone of power. It’s only a shame that Kihyun took me in and he could do nothing about it.”
“Do you have any suspicions about what he might be doing in Strictland?”
“I only ever heard a bit of it, and I’m not sure exactly what he was referring to, but this might be my chance to confirm if what I heard holds any value,” you said, pausing in the middle of the crossroads in front of the canal, looking around for any passersby but finding none. “Do you know about the nuclear base in Strictland?”
“Everyone knows about it,” Yunho said, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat. “It is suspected that Halaland wants to take over Strictland because they want to resume the operations at the nuclear base and become a nuclear power. That would violate the international arms law which is why they are resorting to playing dirty instead.”
“And the base has been inactive for a while, right?”
“For about thirty years now, yes,” Yunho confirmed.
“I have no idea how much truth this information holds, but I once heard my father talk about something regarding the nuclear base,” you whispered. “He said something about how Halaland knows that Eden has joined hands with Strictland’s nuclear operation officials. I don’t know who in Eden, but he also claimed whatever Halaland was doing– or would be doing– will be in order to protect itself.”
Yunho’s mouth parted in disbelief, his eyes boring into you. “That… that can’t be true.”
“Right?” you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking sideways to the canal. Its murky waters seemed to be reflecting your mood. “That should not be true, but… Mr. Kim said my father– Secretary Park did not react when you mentioned his dealings with foreigners. What other dealings might he have?”
“I hope something else, because if there’s even a slight chance that what you said is true,” Yunho grunted in discomfort. “I can’t imagine the consequences. Does he know that you are aware of this knowledge? Your father?”
“He knows I heard something,” you confirmed. “That’s when things started going downhill for me. He had always made it clear that once I was independent, he was going to change my surname and cut ties with me. But after that day, he just sped up the process, changed my surname to Jeon and sent me to Wonderland to an acquaintance of his.”
Just like that, you wanted to add, recalling how easy it was for the man that claimed to be your father.
“I don’t know if he did that so I would not speak about this or if he had some ounce of guilt for me,” you continued with a scoff, shaking your head. “But he kept tabs on me. He made sure I got a good education and once I was done, he allowed me to come back. I had to beg a little, but he let me come back on the condition that I stay low.”
“Too late for that, isn’t it?” Yunho commented and you looked at him, a smirk creeping on your lips.
“Well, I always planned about how to get back at him. Just because he made a mistake doesn’t mean I get to suffer for it for the rest of my life.”
“That’s right,” Yunho stepped closer to you, facing the canal just like you. For a moment, you shared a comfortable silence, thinking about the implications of your admittance. Yunho cleared his throat as he looked at you. “You must be from Edenary then. Was it tough to adjust in Sector 1?”
Edenary was not just the capital of Eden– it was like a safe haven for the elite class of Eden where they did not have to encounter a common man. Everyone who lived in Edenary was someone who possessed at least one of the three things– wealth, power, or connections. Before the monarchy was abolished in Eden, the royalty resided in Edenary. Now it was home to government officials, politicians, business owners and influencers.
Your heart twisted as you recalled your time in Edenary. Though you had lived in the shadows in Edenary too, there was a point in your life when your father had taken you around with him, introducing you as his niece but still letting you know the ins-and-outs of business in Eden. It was his dream that his child carry on in his footsteps, but his son and your half-brother, Park Sunghoon, had always been incompetent. You suspected he might let you take over his business instead but the fear of his tarnishing his reputation must have outweighed the fear of passing his legacy to someone who was useless. Sunghoon had always been far too short-tempered and reckless. Your father was not proud of him.
“Do you also dream of living in Edenary one day?” You asked, fiddling with your pearl ring.
“We dream of opening an office there, maybe a branch of the Crescent Bar if we’re lucky,” Yunho admitted. “But our home will always be in Sector 1.”
You smiled at that– his admission was unexpected. You outstretched your hand. “This ring is the only symbol of Edenary that I possess. A reminder that I may have found a place somewhere else but my roots remain in Edenary. I don’t miss the life I had, though. It wasn’t much.”
“It must have been better than this?” Yunho asked. You shook your head.
“I’ve only ever felt at home here, in my little apartment that I share with a person who cares about me a lot,” you said. “At the Crescent Bar where I got more respect than I ever got in Edenary.”
“And at the office?” Yunho said and you looked at him, finding an amused look on his face.
“Not yet, and you know that,” you said.
“That could change,” he suggested.
“Definitely,” you nodded. “But for that… you would have to make a little effort.”
“Well, I’m here now, with you, aren’t I?” Yunho said, cocking his head challengingly and you realised that this was his effort. “Tell me how to verify the information you just gave me tonight.”
You took a deep breath. “I’ve thought about it long and hard. I don’t think anyone who is not involved would know, so if you’re a fan of taking someone hostage and interrogating them…”
“We’re really trying to do things the right way, Luna,” he chuckled. “We’ve left that life behind.”
“Yunho, you shot ten men in two minutes just a few months ago, without hesitation,” you reminded him and his brows rose a little in surprise. You thought he was shocked to hear that you finally confronted him about it, but then you realised–
You had called him Yunho.
You were an absolute fool–
“I can do anything to protect the people I care about,” Yunho decided not to point out your informal use of his name, though he couldn’t complain– he had to admit that it was nice to hear his name from your lips. “But any other ideas?”
“Well… you can give someone else a tip and let them do the dirty work for you?” You suggested. “Now might be a nice opportunity to use Assemblyman General Wi. He has been trying to get dirt on President Lee because his term is almost over and he is pretty sure President Lee will be running for presidency again. If you give him a tip, he can verify all of this for you. Plus, if word gets out, Secretary Park will be in big trouble. It could confirm if President Lee is a part of this Strictland business or not, though it’s hard to believe that such a saint of a man could be.”
You often considered confronting President Lee about your father– if he really wasn’t aware of your father’s dealing with Strictland, he was probably the only person who could make things right once and for all. Lee Jinwook had always been in the political scene but he only stepped up as a presidential candidate after his wife, President Han Hyojoo, was assassinated three years into her term. She had ruled Eden right after the Treaty of the Eight Hills when President Son’s term ended, and the way she strengthened Eden’s defence and helped rebuild the land was an admirable feat but also earned her enemies.
President Lee always had a clean and morally upright image and though his succession was quick and easy, he continued his wife’s legacy and boosted Eden’s morale. He was a good president and Eden was flourishing in his reign just as it had in his wife’s reign. Days after his wife was assassinated, he laid the foundations of a hospital in his late wife’s memory. You recalled reading an article about it– that was in 1963, right after you came back from Wonderland. In his interview, he said that his wife had always dreamed about making a hospital in Eden that would focus on maternity services and advancements ever since they lost their child a couple of months after birth, and that it was a shame she couldn’t live long enough to see the hospital functioning.
It was thoughtful how he was fulfilling his late wife’s dreams even after her death. Such a man couldn’t be capable of such sinister actions, could he?
“If President Lee is a part of this, he could end up having your father killed to protect himself,” Yunho said and you sucked in a breath. “That’s how these people operate. Are you sure you want that? And even before that, Secretary Park would try to get at you for leaking that information. Your life could be in danger too.”
“It already is,” you shrugged. “An anonymous tip to General Wi– he’s a military man and Strictland is under military control. It would make sense that General Wi stumbled upon this information himself.”
Yunho hummed in agreement. “Shall I walk you home?”
Your heart did a little flip at his offer and that had you wondering… just how much should you involve yourself with the Crescents?
“Thank you for the offer… Mr. Jeong,” you said and Yunho noted the formality in your tone, “but I would rather walk myself home. Goodnight, and… thank you for tonight.”
Yunho considered insisting but he knew it would be too much for you, for now. Though he liked spending time in your company and wished to find out more about you or simply talk with you, this was not the time, and you had made your stance clear– he was only Mr. Jeong of Crescent to you, as he should be, but…
Did he wish to be more?
“Goodnight, and… I’m only carrying out my duty,” he said, confirming the distance between the two of you. “If you ever feel like you’re under threat or need some assistance, you can let us know. You are a part of our company and it is our obligation to protect you.”
Well. What a way to put it, you thought. With another thanks, you separated your paths for the remainder of the night.
Over the next few days, things at work became just a bit less overwhelming and you found yourself almost adapting to the new routine. Eunha and Jihoon noticed that you were competent and efficient and even Jihoon complimented you over handling a task that he was having a tough time with.
Every day after the midday slot, Eunha and you would go for lunch in one of the nearby cafes. Eunha told you that she used to have lunch with Jihoon almost everyday but with the shift in schedules, they couldn’t eat lunch together anymore and she admitted that surprisingly, she missed that. You asked what exactly did she miss about having lunch with Jihoon and got your answer later that day when he finally joined the two of you– a first for you. You were having sandwiches for lunch and while you both chattered about trivial stuff, he complained about the weather, the cucumbers in his sandwich, his milkshake being too bland and you knew then.
It was his way of contributing to the conversation, and the fact that he had joined you for lunch was enough. You told him that you hoped he would join you both often from now on and he just shrugged awkwardly though you caught him smiling to himself afterwards. He also made a point to scold you both for wasting too much time deciding on a spot and you both just retorted with a crude gesture (Eunha) and assigning him with the responsibility of picking lunch spots moving forwards (you).
It was just another day in the month of May with the shift of seasons bringing about rain and prompting you to dress up warmly. The weather in this part of the continent didn’t change much throughout the year, remaining a sticky cold in the summers with the rain and freezing towards the end of the year. You started to keep an umbrella on you and switched to boots and warm gloves, though you kept your net gloves in your purse in case you needed to wear them to a formal meeting. Just like the change in the colour saturation of Eden and its hues, your ensembles shifted to darker, moodier tones. The only constant would always be the pearl ring from home, often the only glimmer on you.
You reached ten minutes before 6pm and Eunha, just like every other day, sighed happily at the sight of you. Really, the sigh came out of sheer relief that she could go home now. With a kiss blown in your direction, she hurried off, her light pink hair very much like cotton candy as they fluffed up with every happy skip she made down the stairs.
You shook your head in amusement at her fading figure and straightened your back before assessing the reports and the latest updates. When the boss had called off the deal with Secretary Park just a few days ago, rumours of it went around town and some called it ‘a rejection to the president himself’ since it was known that a secretary basically did all of the president’s work. Others admired the fact that the Crescents didn’t bend to the secretary’s will like everyone else did, without knowing the context.
While it infuriated you how people were so quick to make something out of nothing– nothing that they knew about– you also noticed how the Crescents started getting more offers for collaboration by different businessmen and government officials. Yunho provided you with a list of people that they were considering for their new project. No one was aware of what exactly was the Crescent’s new project and you were almost still in the dark too– nothing confirmed and nothing denied. You told yourself that you did not need to ask just what this project was about and you could let them know your opinion anyway, but your achilles heel had always been your curiosity and your adventurous spark, a deadly combination. You would do just about anything to silence the buzzing in your brain.
About two hours passed when you heard light footsteps and the familiar scrawny figure of the young informant entered your vision. You set your pen down, a satisfied exhale leaving your mouth at the way your joints cracked when you stretched.
“Is the Captain inside?”
“Good evening to you too, kid,” you shook your head. “Yes, he’s inside.”
Jaemin smirked and you made a face at him. “Nice hair today.”
“Really?” You blinked in surprise. “I wear it like this every day though?”
The question was directed more to yourself. Jaemin went towards the boss’ room and knocked, entering a moment later. You dug the compact mirror out of your purse and checked your hair–
And sure enough, a tuft of hair was sticking out near your temple on the right side. You groaned loudly, fixing it and groaned even louder when you realised why Hongjoong had looked at you for a moment longer than usual when he greeted you today, and why he had a little smile on his face when he went to his room.
Damn it.
You waited for Jaemin to come out and you called him over. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, madame,” he bowed dramatically.
“Why do you call Mr. Kim the Captain?”
“Well… he is the boss, the leader, so captain is just another word to address him, right?” he grinned. “I like the sound of it.”
“Fair enough,” you said. “How did you become an informant?”
“Your question of the day has been used up. Adios!” Jaemin saluted mockingly and ran away before you could call his name or chuck something at him– you just sat there watching with your hand awkwardly stretched in the air as if you could have grabbed him from across the desk.
Menace.
You went back to focusing on the monthly budget report that you had been studying, trying to spot any discrepancies. This time, you were in charge of presenting the monthly report to the boss and you wanted to make sure everything looked okay, especially with their new deal. Whoever was in charge of handling the tracking of their money was doing a pretty damn good job. On the surface, the Crescents were exchanging Black Shadow with the latest machine parts– the produce from Pledis Manufacturers which was a cover for the actual export that was the weapons– with Utopia.
Black Shadow was a very strong red wine, a staple of Utopia, the land known for its wineries and extensive collection of all sorts of wines. While the Crescents were still a gang, they became acquainted with some of the winemakers, got mentored and secured a deal so that their business began with the Crescent Bar. Now the Crescent Bar was the only spot in all of Eden where this fine wine was available. You thought that was an admirable feat– it must not have been easy to convince the Utopians to export their wine. You supposed Utopia must really be in dire need of weapons as well to share their best wine with Eden.
On the sidelines, though, Black Shadow and other liquor was being smuggled to Mist Island in exchange for raw metal that was required in the production of those machine parts and weapons by Pledis. Simply sending wine in exchange for metal did not cover the discrepancy in costs, so you made a mental note to bring this to light in the meeting later this week. It had gone unnoticed the past few months but from your experience from the time in Wonderland when you had a part time job at a bank, you knew that someone was bound to raise suspicions of where the Crescents were spending all that money.
You did not realise how much time passed when you heard Yunho’s office door open and you looked at him, finding him wearing his overcoat. There was still an hour until your shift would be over so Yunho must have some engagement. He approached you and asked if you were done compiling the report.
“Yeah, I was just wrapping up. Do you want me to put it in your office later?”
Yunho pursed his lips in thought. “Actually, you know what? If you’re done for tonight, you can leave as well. No point staying until midnight. Seonghwa won’t be here tonight either.”
“Oh, well, sure,” you tried not to show how happy you were to leave early. “Let me put this away before you lock your room then.”
Yunho nodded and waited for you and when you came back, you found him with your coat in his hands and he offered to help you wear it. You stood still.
“Mr. Jeong. I can wear my coat on my own.”
“I know,” he shrugged, not letting go of it. “Are you going to keep me waiting though?”
You looked at him pointedly before giving in, going to grab your purse before he would try to do that for you too. “How very gentlemanly of you.”
Yunho scoffed, outstretching his arm. “After you.”
In the past few days, Yunho’s behaviour towards you had been nothing short of odd. Sometimes, he was the Mr. Jeong that you had always known– unapproachable, reserved and a man of few but meaningful words.
And the other times, well… you weren’t sure if this was just how he had always been, but it was strange to experience it firsthand. He was considerate, just like tonight. He would make sure you’d had dinner. He would ask if you were faring well when you would go to discuss the reports with him. He would make a casual remark or even a joke if he felt like it. Overall, you were sure that he knew the difference between being professional and casual very well–
And boy, was he tiptoeing right at the borderline.
He held the door for you and you told him the guard would have done it anyway but he only smiled. And then he mockingly saluted because you had made it a point of calling him ‘lieutenant’ whenever you needed to get a point across. That made you laugh a little and you said goodnight, going in opposite directions.
You were only a few steps down your road when you thought you could just walk with him and discuss the details about the Mist Island finances that had been nagging you all this time. You turned, speed-walking towards him in the dark street and were about to call his name when you stopped in your tracks.
There was a man who had slipped right behind him from an alley and you were half sure Yunho hadn’t noticed his presence. The man was walking quite awkwardly, tense and fidgeting, almost–
Almost as if he was about to attack Yunho.
And sure enough, you saw his hand resting right above his hip where he would be hiding a gun under his jacket.
With all your senses heightening, you willed yourself to remain calm and think– if you screamed, it would probably end badly. You could go back and alert the guard or find someone, anyone, but it might be too late–
And then you remembered that you had a gun in your purse.
You switched to the street on your right, rushing through the alleys as silently as you could, gun in hand and a scream lodged in your throat that threatened to escape at any second. You spotted Yunho whenever the alley opened into the street and every time, relief and urgency clashed. With pure adrenaline fueling you, you waited for Yunho to turn right at the crossroads– if he turned left, you would have to step in and you hoped that would not be the case.
As soon as Yunho turned right, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the alley, a surprised exhale exiting his mouth. You rushed to hide, finding a spot to squeeze into which was covered by abandoned boards that would hopefully help conceal your figures. You aimed the gun at the street, hoping to get a visual of the man, the sounds of your breaths and Yunho’s gun being loaded feeling too loud. He tried lowering your gun, intending to take care of the situation but you shook your head, gently pushing him aside despite the lack of space, as if you could cover him.
“I need to see if it is someone I recognise,” you whispered. “And you really don’t need to kill tonight.”
“I rarely ever kill, y/n,” he said, “Only immobilise.”
You didn’t respond, and if you hadn’t been worrying about your lives, maybe you would have noticed that he called you by your name instead of Luna. Your gaze remained focused on the street, aiming to identify the man.
“Is that someone you recognise?”
“Never seen him before,” Yunho bent down a little into the light to get a clearer vision. “Might just be a thug.”
You remained in your position with your gun aimed at the confused man who looked around warily before tracing his steps back. However, you kept the gun trained where you last spotted him and it wasn’t until Yunho put a hand over yours and gently lowered it that you let out the breath that you had been holding.
You made the mistake of looking at him, the realisation that you both were okay crashing on you like a fierce, cold wave. You took a shaky breath, resting your back against the wall and gripping the edge of a box nearby to hold yourself steady. Yunho looked quite alright, casually resting his back against the wall in front of you. You realised how narrow the alley was because his knees brushed against your legs.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just… catching my breath,” you whispered. “Does this happen often?”
“Not that often– not like this, at least,” Yunho looked for any signs of the man in the street. “Usually it’s a gang targeting us, not an individual.”
You nodded, thinking about the attack that night at the bar. This was different. Had this man intended to shoot Yunho or just take him hostage?
“I’ll go do a quick scan of the area and see if there are more men–”
You grabbed his arm as he tried to exit the alley and pulled him back to his original spot. Yunho shook his head. “I need to check if there are more men, and if anyone else was hurt–”
“No,” you insisted, tightening the grip on his arm. “It’s dangerous.”
“You’re telling that to me?” Yunho asked, reminding you that he was an honoured lieutenant colonel and knew how to deal with situations like these, but you weren’t having any of it. You shook your head adamantly.
“We will leave together, after a few minutes.”
And then, with a crashing realisation, Yunho understood that you were not just scared for yourself. You were scared for him too.
He didn’t know why but your words, spoken and unspoken, wrapped around his heart like an embrace. With a shaky sigh of his own, he resigned to his previous position, though this time he stood just a little closer to you. He noticed how you were still holding the gun while your hand trembled– you had obviously never actually used it.
“You’re a fool,” Yunho said in a low voice. “You should not have come after me. I could have dealt with that on my own. I would have gotten answers out of him–”
“He meant to shoot you, Yunho,” you said, and this time you called his name on purpose. “I did what I had to.”
“You could have gotten hurt, Luna,” Yunho leaned forward to be at your eye level. “You shouldn’t have put yourself in danger.”
“I have a gun–”
“A gun you’ve clearly never used before, at least not on a real person,” Yunho reproached, grabbing your shaky hand to prove his point. “Would you have used it tonight? If things went wrong?”
You didn’t answer that, too focused on the way his hand intertwined with yours and even with the weapon preventing full contact, you felt the comfort of his touch seep through your skin and slowly, but surely, calm your nerves.
“Shall I teach you how to use a gun some day?” Yunho’s low voice almost reverberated in your skull and you looked at him in shock, finding him a bit too close– you could see the excited glimmer in his pupils.
“I can protect myself without using a gun too,” you managed to say, wincing inside at the weak retort. You clearly couldn’t.
“But you can protect me too if you know how to use a gun,” Yunho said teasingly, a smirk creeping on his lips. You rolled your eyes briefly but he wasn’t backing away and neither did you want him to. His fingers caressing the skin on your hand was something you didn’t want to stop anytime soon.
“I’m pretty sure you can take good care of yourself, Lieutenant,” you challenged. “You definitely had it under control tonight.”
Yunho laughed then, a bit embarrassed because he clearly had not noticed anything amiss and if it weren’t for you, it might have gone very wrong. You laughed along because wow. You made Jeong Yunho laugh for the first time. The sound of his sweet, shy chuckle went straight to your brain, making you dizzy for a hot second. You broke out of your trance, pushing him away with immense effort. He took it as teasing, thankfully, not knowing that you wanted to do anything but put distance between you two at that moment.
God, you thought. You needed a drink.
Yunho squeezed your hand once before letting it go, perhaps realising how casual he just had been. This time, you let him survey the area you were already sure was clear. He came back and signalled for you to come outside, walking with you back to the path you should have been on in the first place.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You asked. “You left early tonight.”
“Just home,” Yunho said. “The maknaes were going to drop by.”
You hummed– he must mean the warehouse boys– Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho. You often caught them at the Crescent Bar when you worked there, and it was always very lively when they dropped by. Wooyoung, in particular, always added life to the bar.
“You can be on your way then. I’ll walk home–”
“No chance,” he shook his head. “I’m walking you home tonight, whether you like it or not.”
You knew you had no choice and surrendered. It wasn’t a long walk so you decided to tell him about how you had spotted some discrepancies in their finances and wanted to discuss them with the boss. He told you to run over them with Seonghwa first before Hongjoong and you agreed.
“This is me,” you told him when you reached Regulus Street, pointing at your apartment. “I would invite you in for a drink or something, but I have a roommate and I’m not sure if she would like it...”
“Thanks for the offer. I’ll accept the gesture,” Yunho placed his hand over his heart, taking a few steps backward while maintaining eye contact. You watched him with a smile creeping on your lips– he was unexpectedly goofy at times.
“Goodnight then?” You laughed, unsure what he was doing.
“Thank you, Luna,” he finally said and you scoffed. “I owe you one.”
“You owe me two,” you told him. “You owe me one for stopping the deal with Secretary Park too.”
“Ah, is that so?” He raised a brow. “How would you like me to pay you back?”
Maybe he hadn’t meant it like that, but the implications of those words sent a wave of warmth coursing throughout your body. It didn’t help that he was smirking, probably understanding why you were rendered speechless.
“Well…” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “We’ll burn that bridge when we have to cross it.”
“Fair enough. Goodnight, Luna.”
Something had changed indefinitely between you and Yunho.
Perhaps, you wondered, it would still have come to this even if you hadn’t shared those moments a few nights ago. You would like to believe that. You were not complaining about the change– it wasn’t much. He was just more friendlier and casual towards you now, but…
It was as if he wanted to see you break.
You appreciated the change in his manners, yes. He wasn’t cold towards you anymore, even when he maintained a professional stance. It kind of reminded you of Seonghwa– he had always been kind and gentle towards you and something about him had always been comforting, even when he had put death on the table between you two. It was a dangerous trait, you supposed. It was Seonghwa’s weapon, but–
Gentleness seemed to be Yunho’s gift. If someone cared to look past his rough edges and mannerism, they would be rewarded with a nature so gentle that it would make them wonder how such contrasting traits could coexist within the same person.
And it wasn’t the gentleness that was killing you, no. Such was a trait that every man should possess.
It was the way he wielded it to rile you up– there was no other explanation. You kept placing walls between the two of you even with the change and he kept scaling them effortlessly with just a casual brush of his fingers against yours, an assuring or encouraging touch on your shoulder, or even–
God, even the way he tucked your hair behind your ears the other day when you had come back from the storage with a big pile of files in your arms, the front strands of your hair having escaped the hold of the pins. And the first thing Yunho thought to do was not to take some obvious weight off your shoulders but to tuck your hair behind your ears with his brows furrowed in concentration, those damned big brown eyes almost unrecognisable in that moment.
Perhaps, he didn’t even realise he had done that.
And you wished you could ask him if that was true.
“Luna?” Seonghwa’s voice called and you found him peeking out of Yunho’s room. “You can come in to brief me now.”
“Alright,” you said, the report already in your hands as you got up. You straightened your clothes before you entered the room, taking a seat in front of him and opening the files to show him the numbers. You briefed him about what you had done so far before getting to the point.
“The net cash exchange between the wine and the metal is 74.27 percent, which includes all the expenses including necessary licences and fragile care. 25.73 percent of the amount is completely unaccounted for– we’re paying Mist Island but on papers and bank statements, it’s not exactly clear what this amount of money is being used for. For personal purposes, maybe, but one day they’re going to notice it and make a big deal out of it. It’s better if we have a cover for this too. No matter how small the amount is.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Seonghwa took a deep breath, resigning back on the sofa. “Any suggestions?”
“Well,” you thought about it. “We’ll have to manipulate a few documents if we want to adjust this amount in pre-existing channels. That, or have something to prove the money has been put to use– like donations or artwork.”
“Hmm, sounds like a good idea. I’ll discuss it with Hongjoong and get back on that, yeah?”
The door opened and Yunho entered, having come back from one of his meetings. You nodded at Seonghwa, saying you would wait for a heads-up before drafting the monthly report.
And at that moment, Yunho, who had been standing behind your sofa and looking at the documents on the table, decided to not disturb your conversation with Seonghwa and take the matters into his own hands, resting a hand on your upper back for support as he leaned forward to take the file from the table.
Your breath hitched and you were glad you had just finished a sentence– he was too close, and you were reminded once again that you were only reacting to such casual actions because this was Jeong Yunho.
And you wanted to kill him a little when he stayed there and asked if this was the report you had mentioned to him. You nodded and only then did he back away to go sit at his desk. You looked at Seonghwa whose expressions betrayed nothing.
“Well then, I’ll be on my way,” you told him and he nodded, praising you with the usual ‘good job’ and watching you fumble with the folders before you left the room. Seonghwa chuckled to himself and turned his gaze to the consigliere.
“Lieutenant Colonel Jeong Yunho,” he called, making Yunho drop the file on the table to look at him.
“Why are you suddenly calling my rank?”
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, thoroughly amused.
“What do you mean?”
“Luna,” Seonghwa said, running a hand through his long hair. “I’m not blind, Yunho.”
“Yeah, but you’re an idiot,” Yunho went back to looking at his file.
“You haven’t shown interest like that in quite a while. Is it wrong to be curious?” Seonghwa asked.
“Well,” Yunho looked at his hyung. “She’s… interesting.”
“Interesting,” Seonghwa repeated but in a different context. “I’ll be damned.”
“Don’t you like her, just a little bit, too?” Yunho asked, smirking. “You’ve never taken someone this seriously, like, ever.”
“I have to take her seriously when she talks like she already belongs here,” Seonghwa said. “And you know what? I think she could be more than just our little bookkeeper.”
Yunho noted the term Seonghwa had used though he decided not to comment on it yet. “What do you plan to do? Are you really going to involve her in the full business?”
Seonghwa smiled knowingly, already having planned out details that none of the others might have considered.
That night, you found yourself outside the Crescent Bar again. You stood thinking for a few moments before you entered, making your way towards the office that had once been your little safe haven– an escape from the boisterous outside world. You knocked at the door but no one answered. You pushed the door just a fraction, finding it unlocked which meant Yeosang must be around. You decided to just make yourself at home, damned be the consequences, and went inside to sit on the couch and curl in on yourself.
There was too much going on. There was too much you were feeling, and you had no one to share these thoughts with. You weren’t even sure if you should be sharing these thoughts. You were an anomaly, you always had been–
The door opened and you were met with a deadly silence instead of a greeting. You looked up to see Yeosang clutching his chest.
“Shit, I thought I was seeing things. You scared me, Luna,” he said, shutting the door and sitting on his chair. “What’s up with you?”
“I missed you too,” you laughed. “How have you been?”
“As good as ever, I suppose. Better now that you’re not nagging me on a daily basis. Thriving, as some might say–”
You chucked a cushion at him which he caught and rested on his lap. “What are you really doing here?”
“Am I not welcome here?”
“Of course you are, this will always be your office,” Yeosang said, making you smile. “But I’d rather know what’s up so I can order an appropriate drink.”
“Bring me your strongest.”
“On it,” he grinned, going out to get the drink himself, returning with two glasses. Amused, you watched him pop the cork dramatically and fill the glasses a little more than average, swirling the wine just enough before he handed you one.
“It’s an honour,” you said, truly meaning it. “You’ve never served me like this. You’ve only ever served the boys.”
“I’ve heard rumours that you act too much like a Crescent yourself,” he said, sipping his drink and sitting on the desk. “You’ve got guns and big reports up your sleeves now.”
“Yikes,” you downed the drink and Yeosang filled your glass again. “Am I not supposed to? Not that I’m trying to be one of you.”
“Sounds insulting for some reason,” he commented. “But good words only, Luna. I’ve only heard good things about you. Makes me wonder what kind of a boss I was to not realise your potential.”
“You did. I became your bookkeeper. I was also your best employee for two months straight, wasn’t I?”
“And then you told me I was clumsy and I put you on my blacklist,” Yeosang huffed.
“You broke your most expensive tray. I wanted to kill you,” you almost cried as you recalled that chaotic night at the bar a few months ago. “That tray was the prettiest one we had.”
“And you’re already drunk,” Yeosang chuckled at the way you ran your mouth so freely– perhaps, it was also because you were no longer boss and employee. “Now tell me… why did you come here?”
“Why do you all want me to say everything out loud?” You groaned in frustration. “I wanted to be here, obviously. You know this office was like my safe haven. I always come here when I am overwhelmed.”
“And what’s got you so overwhelmed, love?” Yeosang asked gently and your heart fluttered at the change in his tone.
“You,” you muttered, surprising him. “And Mr. Jeong. And Mr. Park. And your boss but I tend to avoid him so I won’t complain yet. And San!”
“San?” Yeosang laughed. “What did he do?”
“Nothing, I’m just dragging him into this,” you rested your head on your knees, hugging them to your chest. “It’s just… you’re all confusing me and I don’t like it. I don’t like being in unexpected situations.”
Yeosang hummed in thought. He knew what was up with you and Seonghwa, and you and Yunho. The boys– none of them hid anything from anyone. They had always been bare with each other, so he knew that Yunho was a little into you even though he never said it. Yeosang wasn’t oblivious to the way Yunho’s eyes lit up or the way his attention shifted any time someone mentioned you.
Yeosang also wasn’t oblivious to how much you occupied Seonghwa’s headspace even though he pretended to be unfazed. He could tell that Seonghwa was bordering on the lines between admiration and adoration for you.
And while Hongjoong himself hadn’t expressed any personal feelings about you, he knew that once you would properly interact with him, you would find yourself charmed by him too– Hongjoong was like that. And San… he had seen you that night opening up to San and watched fondly from the distance.
But it kind of blew him a little that he was the source of your confusion too. Perhaps, it was because you had worked with him so long. You were friends, that was for sure. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here right now. But why were you overwhelmed because of him? It wasn’t the proximity– you two had shared a lot of time in this office in the past. A lack of proximity then? Did you actually, truly miss him? Did the distance really make you fonder of each other?
With caution, he settled down in front of you and took your glass from your hands. “That is enough drinking.”
“It’s not,” you whispered, not looking at him.
“Just say what’s on your mind, Luna,” Yeosang said, turning his full attention to you. “You know I’ve never judged you and never will.”
You smiled at that. Even with the lack of explanations you gave for your actions or your behaviour, Yeosang always tried to understand you, and that was what you liked about him. Sometimes, you couldn’t quite believe that he had ever been anything else other than a bar manager. How could this man have gone to the war at such a young age and intercepted multiple messages, saving countless lives? How could he be a part of the gang that had a repute like none other?
“It’s hard to put it into words,” you sighed deeply. “And I don’t even know what I would say anyway. Nothing makes sense, yet everything does. Now that I don’t have to hide who I am from you… it’s like I’m living a new life all over again.”
“Yet you’re still the same old Luna that we all adore.”
“So you adore me then?”
“Did hearing that make you feel better?” Yeosang shook his head and you grinned. “I’ve always adored you, Luna, in my own ways. Does that help?”
“I thought you hated– okay, not hated, but… only tolerated me. Maximum liked me a little. But you’re saying you adore me.”
“I do,” he pinched your nose. “Especially when you’re tipsy.”
“Gee, thanks,” you said, uncurling and sitting properly, still facing him. “Can I ask you something… strange? You can blame it on me being tipsy later.”
“Go ahead,” Yeosang grabbed the glasses and filled them again, handing you yours. “Let’s blame tonight on being drunk.”
“Hmm, I knew coming here tonight was a good idea,” you downed the drink in one go, setting the glass aside and looking at your former boss. “Have you ever liked someone? Like really, really like someone?”
“I have,” Yeosang said and your brows rose momentarily in surprise.
“How do you know you don’t like them like you would just another person?” You asked. “Is there something I’m supposed to feel?”
“Let’s test that out,” Yeosang said in such a low voice that you almost missed it. He leaned forward a bit more than he should have, twirling a few strands of your hair between his fingers. You got a good look at that heartbreakingly gorgeous face– it was a crime to be this beautiful and stay inside the bar almost all the time, you often thought. Your breath hitched when Yeosang’s finger traced the vein along your neck and then he locked eyes with you.
“Who is it that you like so much, y/n?”
“That’s the thing,” you whispered, kneeling into his touch when his hand went to cup your face. “I don’t know.”
Yeosang smiled knowingly though, his eyes travelling all over your face, stopping at your parted lips a few times– he was too obvious. Your heart was beating frantically and for once, you did not know what to do. You may have come here because of another man (or two) but now you were almost in the arms of someone else entirely. His other hand was holding yours– when did that happen? And bringing you closer.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his warm breath on your cheek before he kissed it lightly. You drew back, a bit surprised but wanting more.
“You can sort your thoughts out when you’re sober,” Yeosang said. “You should rest, for now. It must have been a long day.”
Before he could draw his hand away, you scooted closer and he chuckled when you rested your head against his shoulder. “It’s because I’m tired.”
“Whatever you say, Luna,” he patted your arm. “It’s certainly not because you miss me.”
“Certainly not,” you confirmed, the both of you laughing at the obvious lie. “And definitely not because I may like you a little too much.”
“Oh,” Yeosang pulled you closer in the half embrace. “Definitely not.”
next chapter
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"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."
masterlist
ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au
chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of gangs, war/military and weapons, hongjoong is the designated asshole in this chapter
chapter wc: 10.9k
chapter synopsis: you learn more about ateez from your housemate, wendy, and from kihyun of mx pharmaceuticals who is also the crescent’s business partner. you get familiar with your new job at the crescent company’s main office and learn about their deal with secretary park. wanting to stop them from that harmful deal, you finally speak up only for the boss, hongjoong, to remind you that you are just a bookkeeper.
prev chapter recap: an attack on the crescent bar prompts you, the bookkeeper of the crescent bar, to carry out yeosang’s order and flee with the contents of the safe. however, you have discovered a secret package which leads you to a confrontation with the underboss, park seonghwa, who has no choice but to kill you. to save yourself, you reveal that you possess some information about the elites that could be useful to them, and that you are willing to exchange this information for your life. that lands you a job at the crescent company’s main office and you have a rocky first day, getting to know the ins-and-outs of your new workplace and colleagues.
For the beginning of a new chapter of your life, which could take a very sinister turn, it sure was awfully sunny today, the pigeons on your window sill taking great joy in the way you would pause in the middle of getting ready and reconsider all your life choices so far. Their cheerful chirps were starting to annoy you and you couldn’t help but shoot deathly glares in their direction.
It was your first official work day as the bookkeeper in the main office of the Crescent Company, and you were done getting ready– as ready as you could be with your heart threatening to burst out of your chest. It didn’t help that when you exited your room, you immediately had your housemate’s attention who let out a dramatic whistle at the sight of you.
“Woah. That’s quite a formal outfit for the bar,” Wendy said, stopping in the middle of stirring the pot, the fragrant scent of rosemary and chicken broth filling your nostrils. “Also… why are you still home?”
You turned to the full-length mirror in the living room, inspecting your outfit for the day– a pleated navy blue skirt that reached mid-calves paired with a blue tweed jacket, your feet clad in ivory kitten heels. Just the right outfit to make good first impressions, yet it was a struggle to ignore the urge to go back to your closet and restart the lengthy process of choosing another outfit.
“Uh…” you took a deep breath while tucking the stray strands of your hair back in the half-tied hairdo, bracing yourself for her reaction. “I may have gotten a new job at the Crescent Company.”
The room fell awfully silent and you turned to Wendy, finding her deadpan staring at you.
Odd.
“Something wrong?” You frowned in confusion.
“The Crescent Company?” Wendy repeated and you nodded. It was strange, the soberness in her tone, when you were expecting enthusiastic theatrical reactions from her. “When?”
“Literally yesterday,” you turned your full attention to her, wondering if she was cross with you for not letting her know earlier. “I start working officially from today.”
“How did you get this job?” Wendy asked, finally doing something else other than assessing your form. She turned the stove off, setting the pot on the table where you joined her for breakfast.
“Well… one thing led to another. Some gang attacked the bar two nights ago and when I carried out my instructions– which were to get the contents of the safe and run– they decided… that I am good at my job and would do better in some other environment.”
“I heard about the attack, yes,” Wendy said, munching on a piece of bread. “But I thought it was a fight outside the bar, not an attack inside. Is that how you got these tiny scratches all over you?” You pursed your lips in answer and Wendy continued. “Are you sure this is the right job for you? Because let’s be real– we all know who Ateez is. You should be avoiding that gang– didn’t you want to lay low?”
Ateez. Known throughout all the eight sectors of Eden and its capital, the gang formed after the Battle of the Eight Hills and played a vital role in the rebuilding of Eden afterwards. Really, you wondered if they had done so much for Eden, why were they feared and labelled as a criminal organisation?
“I am laying low,” you sipped the broth as you said, “It’s just an office job– paperwork.”
“I don’t know, Luna,” she said, clearly worried. “I’m not sure about this.”
“Do you know something you’re not telling me?” You asked but Wendy kept a straight face which meant there was something. “In fact… refresh my memory a little since I wasn’t here when Ateez was at the peak of their career, but who is Ateez? What do they really do?”
Wendy took a deep breath as if contemplating opening her pandora of secrets for you but then she checked her wristwatch to your utter disappointment. “Next time or else we’ll both be late. Just… stay safe, will you?”
“Oh, I will. I keep the gun in my purse, you know,” you smirked and Wendy finally relaxed, smiling back. “See you tonight if you aren’t snoring by that time– my shift ends at the strike of midnight.”
“Heavens, that’s late,” Wendy winced. “What are you doing up so early then? You should have slept some more.”
You should have, but you had a little stop to make before you clocked in at midday at your workplace– the stop being at the office of MX Pharmaceuticals located in the heart of Sector 1 with all the other businesses and offices. It was only the Crescent Office which was situated right outside that hotspot, and you were starting to think that it was a calculated move on their part. With their status, they could be situated in the slums and still be flourishing– the leaders of Sector 1.
It was a bit strange to walk the streets of your block and not allow your muscle memory to take you in the direction of the Crescent Bar. It felt alleviating, even, to not cross the old lady on the pavement selling crocheted goods to make a living. Somehow, she always made you feel guilty about having the privilege of connections. You could very well have been sitting there at the corner of the road instead of her, selling your paintings or embroideries if Kihyun hadn’t helped you land a job when you came back to Eden from Wonderland just a few years ago.
Because your father always made sure you would never be in the spotlight. There was a reason he basically shipped you to Wonderland– though you often wondered if that was justification enough. He claimed that you could study more if you wished to while you looked after your aunt but really… you knew that he wanted to get rid of you because you found out his dark, dirty secrets– things you were never supposed to find out. It was a shame he couldn’t kill his own daughter and bury those secrets along with her. Maybe his humanity awakened when he thought about his children.
You could spot the MX Office when you took a turn left into the busy, bustling street with corporate slaves ready to sign in for their daily dose of torture. To your demise, you were blending right in. You walked towards the office, which was a brick-coloured building just like the rest of the offices in this street. The guard at the front door recognised you and nodded in greeting, as did the receptionist and a few employees, aware that you had some sort of a relationship with their boss, though no one dared to ask the nature of it.
The boss, Kihyun, was a respectable figure in all of Eden as a powerful businessman and a former gang member. Each connection he made was for a reason, but you were not just a connection. You respected each other far too much to refer to each other as just a ‘connection’.
You were being accompanied to Kihyun’s room when on the stairs, you encountered Hyungwon.
“Miss Jeon– what brings you here?” He asked. It had been a while since you saw the manager of MX Pharmaceuticals. He was usually found at one of the labs or warehouses that MX owned. “Good to see you.”
“Hope you’ve been well,” you smiled. “I’m here to see Kihyun.”
Hyungwon nodded at the assistant who left and you followed Hyungwon upstairs. “Kihyun just arrived. How has it been?”
“I’m doing good. I got a new job so I was going to tell him about that and discuss a few things.”
“Oh, that’s nice to hear,” Hyungwon knocked at Kihyun’s door before opening it for you. “I’ll send some tea. And you know that if you need anything, we’re here, right?”
You nodded, smiling earnestly at his reminder. “Thank you. Have a good day.”
You entered Kihyun’s room, closing the door behind you. His room was as neat as ever with a variety of indoor plants lining the huge windows that provided a view of Maddox Street. You walked past that window, drawing the cerulean curtains away and Kihyun tsk-ed at you.
“You’re back at it, eh?”
“You need someone who will pull the curtains open every day. I can’t keep doing that for you,” you grinned, joining him at his desk. He was clad in a navy button-down shirt, his hair combed back. “How have you been?”
He spread his arms in answer. “Right in front of you. As good as ever. But I’ve heard you are doing better lately.”
“Heard the news already?” You shook your head. “Once I find your informant, I’m gonna give them an earful.”
“We’re the Crescent’s business partners. I should know the happenings,” Kihyun said, waiting for the assistant to leave the tea for you before continuing. “Tell me… how did it happen?”
“Let’s say I passed a trust test,” you said, adding a sugar in your tea and two in his, just as he liked. “I’m the Crescent’s bookkeeper now.”
“That must not have been easy.”
“Actually, yes,” you took a sip of the black tea. “I almost got killed. I had to win their favour.”
“And how did you do that?” Kihyun frowned.
“I played a few cards,” you admitted and he groaned in disbelief. “It was that or I die.”
“They would not have killed you–”
“They knew we were acquainted, and they were ready to kill me,” you interjected. “I only told them that I’m aware of Assemblyman General Wi’s artefact gallery.”
“Luna,” Kihyun leaned forward, clasping his hands. “You know the game you are playing right now is a dangerous one–”
“I know that I have to keep my identity hidden, and I’m sure they only know what’s on the documents–”
“Let me finish,” Kihyun said in a low voice and you slumped back. “It’s not just about your identity. You know who they are, don’t you? Ateez? They were once a gang, and they always play dirty.”
“So were you, Kihyun,” you reminded him. “Back in your early days, before my father took you under his wing.”
Kihyun clenched his jaw– he did not need to be reminded of his ugly past. “We were not children of war when we were a gang, Luna. The Crescents– Ateez– they are children of war. They served the army when they should have been fooling around with other kids their age or studying. A nineteen year old Kim Hongjoong became a well-known military strategist in the Battle of the Eight Hills. Another nineteen year old Park Seonghwa became a sniper and a medic– a god awful combination, don’t you think? And an eighteen year old Jeong Yunho became an honoured lieutenant colonel, for heaven’s sake. Those are the people you have involved yourself with.”
That was the first time you heard about their achievements during the war and you realised with a creeping dread that Kihyun might be right about this.
“Us? We were just a street gang, Luna. We were kids who rebelled, who got lucky because your father, a politician, saw potential in us and hired us as his informants. Ateez are different, and it would do you better if you stay aware of them.”
You took a deep breath. “Do you think they will dig into my past?”
“I can’t promise they won’t,” Kihyun relaxed, finally smiling and drinking his tea. “But I’ll see if I can do something. Just make sure to stay in the shadows.”
“Until it’s time,” you reminded him.
His expressions didn’t change. “Still conjuring up revenge plans?”
“You know how stubborn I am,” you traced the gold outline on the cup. “I cannot forgive my father for taking my identity and shipping me to Wonderland as if I meant nothing to him.”
“I’m sure you mean something to him. You are his daughter, after all.”
“I’m sure I don’t, and I don’t need him,” you said, looking at the boss of MX. “You are my family if I ever had one, Kihyun. I am in your debt for everything that you have done for me.”
“Nonsense,” he waved his hand and you stifled a smile at the way he always got a little shy when you called him family or brother. “You don’t owe me anything. I would have done that for anyone.”
“You risked your business and your life for me. You don’t do that for just anyone,” you concluded and he smiled in answer. It was a truth that he could not deny. “You can call it whatever you want, but let me feel about it however I want too.”
“I can see how you might have talked them out of killing you, you stubborn brat,” Kihyun said, laughing. He stared into the distance, taking a few moments to think. “I heard you will be answering to Park Seonghwa and Jeong Yunho. That worries me.”
“It is just work,” you told him, though you were wholly aware that it was not just work. “You don’t need to worry too much.”
After a busy midday shift at the Crescent Office with Eunha and Jihoon, you decided to pay a visit to the Crescent Bar– you were free for the rest of the afternoon and could squeeze in a lunch with your friends. Plus, you were not sure that you could do the night shift without some liquid courage in your system.
The bar was as lively as it could be during day hours, with people popping in from work to get a drink or a meal. The employees– your old coworkers– warmly welcomed you and you went to sit at the counter with Eunbi and Jeonghan, just like the old times.
“How has it been without me?” You teased Eunbi who wrapped her arms loosely around your waist, snuggling beside you.
“Boring. Jeonghan is always pretending to sleep so I can’t really talk to anyone anymore.”
“I am actually asleep,” Jeonghan raised his hand as a sign that he was alive. He looked like a corpse, actually, if you could put it nicely. Eunbi gave you a pointed look.
“Got a new bookkeeper yet?”
“Not yet,” she said, going back to the cash register when she saw a customer approach. You walked to the staff room, catching up with Yuju who ordered your favourite grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch with Black Shadow– probably the best wine you had tasted in your life, if you were objective. You knew there was a backstory to how Ateez made that wine their staple, but you figured you would hear about it someday later. For now, you had another purpose that led you to Yeosang’s office.
Yeosang opened the door when you knocked, blinking in surprise. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the main office?”
“Good evening? How have you been doing? How has work been?” You glared at him. “I’m good, thank you for asking.”
Yeosang snickered, letting you in and you took the seat in front of him. You sighed deeply, folding your arms. “I kind of miss this, I won’t lie. I feel like an outsider there, and it’s only my first day. Shift doesn’t start for another hour, by the way.”
“Would you like a drink?” He offered and you shook your head, telling him you just had lunch. “Well, Miss y/n. How can I help you today?”
You passed him the side-eye. “It’s still Luna for you. And I wanted to ask you a few things that I really should have asked before.”
“Ah… is it time for those questions?” Yeosang relaxed back, resting his hands behind his head, his muscles poking out from under the ivory dress shirt. You watched him for a moment, wondering what his accomplishments during the war were. Could he be holding a scary title as well, or was it something worse?
“Yes. You can’t blame me for being curious after the stunt the underboss pulled that night. True to your name, Ateez.”
It was the first time you ever referred to them with their gang name and he only watched you in silence, waiting for you to continue. It irked you that his expressions gave away nothing. Trained to give away nothing, a distant voice in your mind said.
“Just tell me if there’s anything I need to know for now. I’m reporting directly to Mr. Park and… Mr. Jeong. I really don’t want to make a mistake.”
“You weren’t worried when you started working under me.”
“That’s because… you are you,” you tried to explain, ignoring the faint ache in your heart. “You don’t go around wearing formal suits and looking down on people and being… weird.”
“We don’t look down on people,” Yeosang sighed, though he was smiling at your admission. “Was Yunho weird towards you? What did he do now?”
“How did you– he didn’t do anything,” you told him. It was uncanny how well they knew each other. “I just want you to tell me if there’s something I should be aware of so I don’t make a mistake.”
Yeosang thought it was strange that you were asking such a question. He wished he could ask you what exactly you meant. Just what mistakes were you so afraid to make? Why did you always have to be cautious and walk on eggshells, even around him, even when you claimed that you were comfortable with him?
“I don’t think that you realise that Yunho is the only one of us who will forgive you even if you betray us in the worst possible way– he would still try to understand your reasons.”
Your eyes went a little wide as you let his words sink in. “Lieutenant Colonel Jeong Yunho… is forgiving?”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about us,” Yeosang leaned forward, speaking gently. “But I can promise you that it’s not the entire truth. We are more than what you people make us to be, if you care to look past the ranks and titles.”
You didn’t understand what he meant by that, and you were too scared to ask. You couldn’t stop thinking about his admission about Yunho. You really couldn’t see it– he always looked so strict, in the traditional sense. Even when he had a hint of a smile on his lips last night, you couldn’t envision him to be someone who could sympathise with the ugliness of the people who were driven into the corner. Perhaps, because Yeosang was his friend, he was able to look past everything and see the lieutenant’s true, unmarred nature, but to you…
To you, he was Lieutenant Colonel Jeong Yunho. And you intended to keep it that way, for everyone’s sake.
Later, when you were at work and taking a breather, having just finished recording the day’s transactions, you reminded yourself that your relationship with Yeosang had turned too casual. Sure, it was the way he was with everyone at the bar– almost everyone. It was different with you, whether you liked it or not. Even though you had wanted to keep a distance from Yeosang, you just couldn’t. After all, you went to him right after hearing about their old gang days.
You made a mental note to learn more about Ateez and the Crescent Company, and to learn about the extent of their involvement in Eden’s business world. You needed any information you could get your hands on, every detail whether true or not. If you were going to play this game and use them for your goal, you needed to know that the Crescents were not involved with your father and his business in any way.
You needed to know if what they did was truly moral and right. And if you needed to sneak into places where you weren’t meant to go and possibly risk your life again… you would.
It took you about a week to fully get the hang of things at the office. While Jihoon was still being an arse– at this point, you were starting to consider that it might be a part of his personality– he never refused to guide you or help you when you were stuck. Eunha was just as helpful and you were actually starting to like her a little. She wasn’t very talkative but considering that she was able to make Jihoon laugh… you were tempted to take pointers from her. Jihoon had worked the longest here and you needed to crack him to get him to talk.
In that one week, you got a chance to go into Mr. Jeong’s room twice, when he was not present to take the report from you himself. You made it quick– unlock the room, unlock the cupboard and place the report inside, look around if you had a few seconds and get the hell out. It was too soon to make a mistake so you only dared to make note of what the office looked like. There wasn’t much to it anyway– just the usual workspace, and it frustrated you that his workspace gave away nothing about him.
Mr. Jeong, you noted, usually came to the office during your shift at the late hours of night, presumably after dinner. You learned that Kim Hongjoong was out of station for some business dealing which was why the office was mostly empty, but also that this was where they usually gathered to meet up and discuss things. This office was sort of a base and if not here, they would be at the bar, though they generally avoided it because of obvious reasons. There was no saying when a drunkard fool, or two, would dare to interrupt them.
Yunho usually locked himself inside his office (Eunha was very suspicious that he usually napped there, claiming to have heard light snores sometimes) and Seonghwa came by twice that week, greeting you and asking if you were adjusting well. Neither of them had interacted with you much during the week but…
You recalled two nights ago when Yunho came back to the office just as it was closing time. You handed him the report and he called you inside his office to discuss a few things. When he was going over the report, he asked you if you had any problems with work recently.
“None at all,” you assured him. “It is manageable.”
He flicked through the pages, the white sleeves of his shirt rolled up over his sleeves, baring his veiny arms. You resisted the urge to trace all those veins on his arms– Jeong Yunho was one handsome man. It didn’t help that he had such beautiful hands either. Why were you assigned to submit him the reports every night? What was this new form of torture?
He caught you staring at his hands but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he finished checking the report and shut the folder, running his hands over the cover once before clearing his throat to get your attention. You met his stare, pretending that you had not been ogling at his hands and arms– or at least, fake confidence that you were normal about it.
“You were right about the artefact gallery,” Yunho said and you straightened. “It is indeed a money-laundering business. He is an assemblyman, a potential presidential candidate and, well, that’s a bad look for him with the elections right around the corner. How did you know when even his enemies aren’t aware of this information? And more importantly… do you want us to do something about it?”
“How I know does not matter,” you shook your head, adamant to not tell them your source. “It is just a piece of information that might be useful to you later. I am aware that your leader has been well involved with politicians– for connections, to secure deals. If you ever need leverage over General Wi, here is what you can use.”
Yunho took a deep breath at your response. You watched him scan you slowly, his eyes unreadable. “Is your source Yoo Kihyun of MX Pharmaceuticals?”
You looked down to hide your smile. “I have heard that you are well acquainted with him. He was more of a recipient than a source until a few years ago. The tables have turned now, but we still share information, and I was told that you could be trusted with the information I have. Is that still true?”
He rubbed his chin in thought. “That depends on how useful the information you possess is. And it also depends on how loyal you are.”
“I am loyal to anyone who is loyal to me,” you said with a certainty that surprised him. “I know what it is like to be betrayed by blood and water both. To me, loyalty is the highest virtue.”
“Higher than morality?” He asked with a certain nonchalance, perhaps expecting to pin you in a corner, but…
“And what is morality, in this era?” You mused. “I’m sure you ask that question yourself often… Lieutenant Jeong.”
You seemed to have hit the nail because his gaze darkened. Perhaps, you should not have reminded him of his military rank, but to be Eden’s honoured lieutenant colonel and possess some fair morals? It didn’t add up even after Yeosang had said all the good things about him.
“I know what my morals are, Miss Jeon,” Yunho leaned forwards, locking his eyes with you and you wish some of his dark tendrils hid a bit of his eyes because that gaze was damning. “Do you? Or do you like to make yourself believe that you are the only virtuous one in the room?”
Maybe it was a dangerous game you were playing but you mirrored his position, your clasped hands almost brushing his as you said, “Oh, I have the lowest moral standards. In order to survive in Eden, especially when you’re on your own… you can’t go around possessing such foolish things as virtue, isn’t that so?”
Yunho looked down at your clasped hands, spotting the fading scar that ran along your thumb down to your wrist– one that you had gotten the night you lost everything.
And then he ran a finger across it, ever so slowly, sending a trail of fire in its wake before getting up and wearing his coat, indicating that the meeting was over.
Damn him. Damn him and his stupid, beautiful hands–
“Goodnight, Luna,” he said in a low voice and you got up as well, gathering your wits before exiting the room.
“Goodnight… Mr. Jeong.”
And that had been the last time you saw him. It was Mr. Park who took the reports from you the day after, and last night you locked the office yourself about half an hour after midnight– you did not know why you stayed waiting for somebody to show up, but you felt a bit stupid afterwards. You should have clocked out on time.
You did not know why you waited.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost did not hear the sound of footsteps skittering in the direction of the office rooms. You looked up, gaping at what had to be a fifteen year old considering his scrawny appearance, moving not towards Yunho’s office but Kim Hongjoong’s. You frowned– how did he get past the guard?
“Oi,” you called but when he proceeded to knock at the boss’ door, you decided you had enough and slammed a hand on the desk to get his attention. “Oi, kid!”
“Is the Captain not inside?” he turned to look at you, looking as surprised to see you as you were. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” you beckoned him to come nearer and he obeyed this time. “How did you get in?”
“I have something the Captain might like,” he grinned. “Still not back from his little trip to Edenary?”
So that’s where he was. The Capital of Eden, the land of the elites. “Uh… nope. Why you calling him ‘the Captain’?”
“Because that’s who he is?” He shook his head in disapproval. “New here?”
You scoffed in disbelief. “Kid, if you don’t tell me who you are, I’m going to have to escort you out.”
“No need, I’ll see myself out,” he winked at you and you laughed this time. You had to admit he was kind of cute for a kid even though you wanted to smack him on his head. You didn’t recall seeing him on the streets– his loose flannel shirt and newsboy cap was a look you thought you would have remembered. “I’m Jaemin, the informant. I answer directly to the Captain, so don’t even think about asking me what this was about.”
“You could still tell me, it could be our little secret,” you smirked but he shook his head. You stuck your tongue out at him. “Alright then. He’s supposed to come back tomorrow, I think. Should I let him know some kid was looking for him?”
Jaemin narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t met him yet, have you?”
“No,” you said. “Why?”
Jaemin only smiled condescendingly in answer. “You’ll find out. No need to tell him, I’ll be back soon.”
With that, the kid disappeared downstairs, leaving you wondering why he called the boss ‘the Captain’. It didn’t refer to his military rank because you knew that he was an honoured military strategist and colonel. You recently heard from Wendy that he had played a vital role towards the end of the war before the treaty between Eden and Halaland was signed. At such a young age, it was impressive. He was only a year older than you so he must have been about twenty when he earned that honour.
You distantly wondered if you ever came across him during the war. You had volunteered as a medical assistant– almost a nurse– in the latter half of the war. You had spent two whole years training medically and assisting the doctors and nurses. There weren’t many people in Eden so you might have encountered one of the Ateez men there, though you weren’t sure if you would recognise each other now.
Moments later, you heard another pair of footsteps coming, this time familiar. Mr. Park, dressed in his usual black three-piece suit, met your gaze and sent a warm smile in your direction before he approached you.
“How are we doing tonight, Luna?”
“Good, Mr. Park. How about you?” You asked, taking tonight’s report and following him to Yunho’s office. “Did you perhaps see a kid leaving the building?”
Seonghwa chuckled at that. “You might find it hard to believe but that kid has saved lives with the information he shares.”
So the kid had not lied. “Impressive.”
Seonghwa waited until you took the seat in front of him. “He is like a stray cat who has marked us as his owners. We cannot take him in– he is too young, and he does not need to share the same fate the rest of us did, yeah? But he is a kid that nobody notices, and he uses that to his advantage. Next time you see him, ask him how he struck a deal with his ‘captain’.”
You laughed softly at that. “I will.”
Seonghwa nodded and started skimming through the reports. You told him that the new batch of liquor– specifically Black Shadow– had successfully been shipped to Mist Island. The shipment of their latest copper bullets was on the way too. You were surprised when you first found out that Mist Island was willing to trade weapons for liquor. Mist Island had a strict liquor import ban so the smuggling was being done secretly from both sides. It was impressive what money could buy.
Silence, Jihoon had told you one day when he was in a good mood. Silence of the police force.
You still hadn’t figured out what exactly they were doing with the weapons– you were aware that a lot of their money was being used in their business partnership with Pledis Manufacturers who were producers of machine parts. Your best guess was that they were involved in the weapons business and doing something undercover. You couldn’t question anyone about that yet. It was too soon.
“Good job, tonight,” Seonghwa said his usual words but this time, he did not dismiss you. Instead, he rested his back on the chair to look at you. “There are a few questions about your background that I must ask you before our boss arrives tomorrow, Luna. I’m hoping you will cooperate.”
There it was. They must have been done with the background check now. You wondered how much they found. “As best as I can while protecting myself, I will.”
Seonghwa smiled at that. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Neither is it that I trust you already– Yeosang did, but that was different. You are now involved in the heart of the business that the Crescent Company does, so I have to make sure you’re suitable for this job, right?”
You were glad it was Mr. Park who was asking you these questions right now. Something about his presence was utterly calming and you could relax a little while talking to him. If you were objective, you could say that perhaps, it was his strategy to get you to lower your guard. But still… he was always soft spoken and kind. That did not change.
“I understand, Mr. Park,” you assured him.
“I could not find the records of your family… Miss Jeon,” he emphasised at your surname and you nodded. “You’re not a Jeon, are you?”
“It is a surname I borrowed around the time of the war, but I can assure you that I am from Eden. I was born here and have lived here all my life, at the Sector 1 border… save for a few years that I was not here.” Almost the truth. You had lived in Edenary, at the outskirts that met with Sector 1.
“And where were you? Where did you go in 1963?”
You exhaled. “Wonderland, to look after my sick aunt and get some further education.”
“Where, in Wonderland? Can I confirm that?” Seonghwa asked.
“The capital, Wonder City” you told him. “I’m not related to that aunt. She’s just an acquaintance who was willing to take me in. I looked after her and she gave me the financial help I needed.”
“Financial help,” Seonghwa repeated, glancing at your pearl ring that you always wore. He had an eye for things, and he knew that the pearl could not be in the hands of someone who was struggling financially. You could not have worn it so proudly if you had stolen it, so was it a family ring? A normal middle-class family could not afford such a pearl.
Just who were you?
“Yes,” you confirmed, willing him to trust you. “I might be wearing a pearl from Maddox & Co., Mr. Park, but that does not mean that I was showered in luxuries all my life. You must have found out that I was desperate for a job when I came back in 1966.”
Seonghwa nodded, swiping his hair back and exhaling. “Alright, I’ll let it be for now. You only need to tell us if you are related in any way to our rival gangs or the Sirens Rebel Party.”
“I am not your enemy,” you confirmed. “I cannot be acquainted with Yoo KIhyun and be in cahoots with any of your enemies. You have the same rivals.”
“Today’s friend is tomorrow’s rival,” Seonghwa mused. “Today’s enemy might be tomorrow’s lifesaver.”
“Then it is up to you, whatever you want me to be,” you smirked. “Rival or friend.”
Seonghwa nodded in thought, a bit amused, proceeding to pour you both some wine. While he downed it in one gulp, you sipped on it slowly, anticipating his next move.
“Do you perhaps have another tip for us?” Seonghwa raised a brow, amused.
“I might have, regarding your latest dealings with General Wi, but I will wait until both sides are clear.”
“Good,” Seonghwa shut the folder in conclusion. “I will take the leap of trust in you, Luna. Maybe you can do the same for us?”
“For you… yes, I can,” you told him. “I have one favour to ask, though.”
“Another one, already?” Seonghwa teased.
“You have a meeting scheduled with Secretary Park Byung Eun on the 14th, right?” You asked, the name leaving the most bitter taste in your mouth.
“President Lee’s secretary, yes,” Seonghwa nodded. “Do you know him?”
“Everyone knows him,” you said. While he was the President's current secretary, his name was well-known before that as one of the most successful businessmen in Eden. “You must be meeting because of a potential pharma-collaboration?”
“That’s right,” Seonghwa frowned, anticipating what was next.
You took a deep breath. “Do not reveal all your cards to that man. Do not let them know what you are up to.”
“Is that your way of telling us to be careful?” Seonghwa snorted. “We never show all our cards in the first meeting, Luna.”
“Neither do they,” you warned him and his smile fell. “Secretary Park’s team has a penchant for tricking you into deals. I’m just asking you to think this deal through. Whatever they are offering you won’t be very beneficial in the long run.”
“And how do you know that?”
“That doesn’t matter,” you told him. “If you need sources, or funds, you don’t need to rely on the Secretary Park.”
“You don’t know what business we conduct here, Luna–”
“I don’t need to know to warn you,” you insisted, feeling that tight knot of frustration build up in the back of your throat now. “I’m only asking you to think this through and take my words into consideration.”
“Your words, Miss Jeon, lack credibility right now,” he stated in a finalising tone, a pang of hurt shooting through your chest for a moment. He was right, though. They had no reason to trust you and to them, you must be seeming like someone who was looking to jeopardise their deal. “If you really want us to take you seriously, you would have to start giving us more.”
“I cannot give you more if I don’t know what you will do with the information,” you told him, sighing deeply. “Forget it, just… can you please let me know what you will be gaining and what you will be losing after your meeting with Secretary Park?”
“You’re assuming we will lose something,” Seonghwa noted. You didn’t answer and Seonghwa scanned your face, almost detecting fear in your eyes. Just what were you so scared of? “Is there any way you can trust me and tell me what this is about?”
“Not so soon, no, sorry,” you smiled sadly. You wanted to trust that man, you wanted to trust someone, anyone. “I don’t know what I’m waiting for, if I have to be honest. I’m probably asking too much considering that I am a mere bookkeeper.”
“We may have ranks here but we’re all equal, in the end,” Seonghwa said and his words tugged at your heart. There was rarely anyone who didn’t bring rank into everything. “I know you have no reasons to trust us either. Let’s work through our differences first before we make such demands, alright?”
You smiled at him and got up to leave. He followed, locking the doors and you both exited the building together. You shivered when the chilly night wind hit you.
“The weather is getting colder. Bring a jacket or a scarf next time, will you?” Seonghwa said and you nodded. “Goodnight, Luna. I hope we are able to overcome all that is keeping us from mutual trust.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Park. Thank you for taking my words into consideration.”
He nodded, patting your back affectionately before you separated ways. That night, when you went home, you found Wendy getting ready to go to sleep. You didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her the whole week, considering your conflicting schedules, but you needed some answers right now so you sat at her bedside and she groaned in defeat.
“You need to tell me every detail, every rumour you’ve heard or any information you have on Ateez and what they do. Now.”
It was quite the busy day at the Crescent Office today.
During the midday slot, you were packed with the new reports you had to make regarding the recent trade dealings with Mist Island, and you also needed to compile a transaction history before the Crescents were going to finalise their new deal with Utopia– both dealings happening undercover. You realised just how much work this job was– you had to create a pretty seamless legal report that was going to be used officially and make it seem like all their money was being circulated in their manufacturing business or the liquor business.
Seonghwa and San arrived when your shift was about to end. San waved at you, promising to catch up later and Eunha looked at you with a scandalous smile.
“Do you know the Choi San?”
“I literally worked at the Crescent Bar, Eunha,” you laughed. “I had to work with him.”
“He’s never waved at me like that. I’ve been here for a decade,” Eunha pouted.
“Maybe you need to work as a cashier at the Crescent Bar in order to earn that privilege,” you told her, though you felt a bit pleased to hear that San had formal relations with the staff here.
Why were you pleased to hear that? You wondered but not long enough to make sense of it, soon getting caught up in more work.
You went home after your midday shift, hoping to get some rest before your night shift because you knew it was going to be packed. You had no idea when the boss was supposed to come to office but you just hoped you would go unnoticed today– you had far too many thoughts that needed some sorting from everything Wendy told you last night– another reason you wanted to get some rest because her words kept you awake for the most part of the night.
You made sure to dress properly today though, in any case. The weather was starting to get a bit chilly– summers were usually chilly in Eden. You wore a grey plaid suit that you kept for days like these, when you needed to make a good impression. You had fond memories with the two-piece– it was the first gift Wendy got you and it was more than she should have done, but she insisted she earned enough to buy gifts like these for the few friends she had. That made you wonder why she lived in a lousy shared apartment. You knew that her actual residence was in Sector 8 and she sometimes joked about how she lived here because it was ‘convenient’.
You wore white net gloves over your hands before going out, donning a matching grey hat. Eunha noted the new additions to your outfit and whistled as she shut her registers, groaning in satisfaction when she stretched her back.
“You did right with the gloves, but it’s a shame the boss isn’t here to appreciate them.”
“Eunha,” you glared at her and she giggled. She had warmed up to you– a bit too much, if you had to say, because she made jokes and teasing remarks like these often now that she was comfortable with you. You took off the gloves and spread them on your desk, grinning at her.
“I think they look pretty good from here too.”
You both shared a grin at that and Eunha wore her overcoat, saluting mockingly before leaving. Just before she was about to go downstairs, she turned in your direction, her doe eyes gleaming. “Luna!”
“What now?”
“If you see the boss… don’t take his words to heart,” she said. “He may sound like a complete arse but he cares for all of us.”
“It can’t be any worse than Jihoon, can it?” You joked.
Eunha was right, though. At around 10 pm, you finally heard a few sets of footsteps ascend up the stairs and you took a deep breath, fixing your gaze on the stairs. To get to his office, the boss would have to walk past you so you fixed your half tied hair and arranged your desk a bit. Yunho’s head was the first to pop up, followed by an unfamiliar man and Seonghwa. They went inside Yunho’s room first, absorbed in heated discussion and you took a deep breath.
It was clear as day who Kim Hongjoong was. If it was not his appearance that betrayed him– dressed in a luxurious three-piece suit with the chain of a golden pocket watch visible, dark brown curls falling stylishly over his forehead– it was his unmistakable aura, the way he carried himself and his confidence. You felt it even if what you got was only a glimpse.
A few minutes later, the trio popped out of Yunho’s room to go into Hongjoong’s room. You continued scribbling this time. You were going to remain in the shadows and go unnoticed–
“Get me the tax files,” the boss said. “I will personally make sure everything is seamless because I cannot have anyone messing it up– ah. Who is this again?”
Seonghwa cleared his throat. “Miss Jeon y/n. The bookkeeper– I thought Yunho told you already?”
Yunho looked guiltily at Seonghwa and you stood up in greeting, meeting the boss’s sharp eyes and internally gasping because oh, good heavens. He was inexplicably gorgeous–
“Good evening, Mr. Kim. If you need the tax files, I can get them for you.”
Hongjoong’s eyes betrayed him for just a second as he scanned your form, finding something oddly familiar about you. But his steel expressions returned and he shrugged lightly. “Yeah, well. I’ll have Yunho deal with that. You can get back to work.”
With that, he went towards his office and only waited a moment for the others to follow before he shut the door.
What a snob, you thought. His new bookkeeper and he didn’t even acknowledge you. Had Seonghwa and Yunho really not told him about you, or was he above these meagre details? You were aware that you would have to work with the boss now that he was back, but… how?
Later, you found yourself at the Crescent Bar instead of your room. Perhaps, here you could get something that would make the bitter aftertaste in your mouth after tonight’s shift seem like nothing. Eunbi’s shift was over so you just found an empty spot in the corner and instructed one of your old colleagues to get you some Black Shadow and to make sure no one would bother you. He gave you a thumbs-up and a few minutes later, you were sipping at the rich drink while recalling the events of today.
Kim Hongjoong. Ateez’s boss, the brains behind the entity of the Crescent Company. A force to be reckoned with. A trickster, a manipulator, a true businessman, you had heard a while ago from the mouth of the elites who came here to drink. A man of his principles, Wendy had told you last night. He was rigid with his principles and that was what got him so far. You supposed he had to be all of that in order to survive after coming back from the war.
Wendy said she wasn’t worried that you were working with him– at some point in this small sector, everyone had or would encounter him at least once in his life, directly or indirectly. However, she was worried that you would catch his eye, because according to her, you did not want to be involved with him personally in any way. He was a calculating and ruthless businessman with an ambition, and according to Wendy, that was something you were better off staying away from.
You considered everything you knew about the Crescent Company now that it had been a week working with them. They had partnered with Pledis Manufacturers to produce machine parts but you now knew that it was an undercover business for their weapons assembling. They had recently signed a new deal with Utopia to export these weapons in exchange for the Utopian wine– Black Shadow– which was a trademark of the Crescent Bar.
And it was Mist Island that provided the Crescents with the bullets and some metal for weapons production in exchange for Eden wine. It truly was a well-thought out business.
But that could not be all. You still did not know what the small packet– the powdery thing that got you here– was. Was it just a drug they used for pleasure purposes? You had never seen them in such a state, nor did the Crescent Bar tolerate druggies, though deals happened there, just like at any other bar. Nobody seemed to talk about it, there was no record of such an object being traded or produced– so what was it? Why had they almost killed you when they learned that you saw it?
And if it was a drug, why did they need to make a business deal with Secretary Park Byung Eun and have him fund MX Pharmaceuticals, of which they owned shares of? Kihyun knew that Secretary Park was not a man you should involve yourself with, so was he not aware of this new venture or was he turning a blind eye to it because they needed Secretary Park? Why would they need him of all the people in this world?
“If you glare at your glass any longer, it will shatter,” a familiar voice said and you looked up, mouth parting in surprise.
“San!” You got up, straightening your clothes. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, I literally own this bar?” San chuckled, noticing the almost empty bottle.
“I mean, here here,” you pointed at your table. “I was just… drinking, as you can already see.”
“Long day?”
“Kind of,” you nodded.
“Can I join you then? I’ve had a long day too.”
“Sure,” you said and he settled down in front of you, tossing his jacket on the other chair, now in a half sleeve black shirt. You poured the drink for him and he swirled it a few times before downing it in one gulp. You filled his glass again and motioned one of the waiters to get you a new one.
It felt a little strange to have him seated like this in front of you. Sure, you had shared drinks countless times, but that was when you worked here and were serving him. There was also a shift in your interactions ever since that fateful night at the bar– somehow, that had turned your conversations more casual. He caught you staring at him but he didn’t comment on it.
“I’m assuming you met Hongjoong?” San asked and you exhaled, making him snicker. “What?”
“He’s… definitely the boss,” you laughed shortly. “He scanned me once and was like, okay, time to move on.”
“That’s him,” San laughed. “But that little scan he does means that he has memorised who you are and won’t forget. He’s got quite the memory.”
“I would expect nothing less, but San,” you sighed. “I miss being here. Even though I acted all professional here for the sake of formalities, it wasn’t ever suffocating being here.”
San frowned at your admission. “Do you not like where you are now?”
“It’s not that,” you shook your head. “I like the new job. It’s testing my capabilities, and I like challenges. It’s just that… you aren’t there. Yeosang isn’t there. You both are Crescents too. You both are also Ateez, so… how are you two so different from the rest?”
A smile creeped up on San’s lips and your heart did a little somersault– you hadn’t forgotten how handsome he was, but it had certainly been a while since you admired his charms. “Just say you miss us and move on, Luna.”
You laughed at that and San joined, the two of you chuckling for a few moments. “Yeah, I kind of miss being here and reporting all the gossip to you,” you said. “I miss working in silence with Yeosang too– don’t tell him I said that. It’ll get to his head.”
“I won’t,” he grinned. “Shall I tell you the gossip?”
“Oh, please, I’ve been starving,” you said.
About an hour passed over gossip and drinks, switching from wine to plain soda. San told you the latest happenings of the area– they had a little fight with Chan’s gang and had settled the matter about the attack on the Crescent Bar, making them pay for the damages. Yuju had gone to different bars to do a survey of what was trendy and come up with nothing, and you joked about how she was only good at doing what she knew– managing the staff, something she was an expert at. San said he would be sending Jeonghan and Mingyu next– perhaps, they would come up with a better report.
It was the first time you talked to San as a friend, and though you had always found it quite easy to talk to him, you liked that just like Yeosang, he didn’t make it feel like there was a distinction between you two. Perhaps, you wondered, it was because of the nature of your work- after all, you couldn’t be too formal in a place like a bar. Maybe if there was no Crescent Bar, you really would have found San intimidating and unapproachable, just like people claimed he was. You still couldn’t believe them– not when he had the softest gaze when he paid attention to you, not when his eyes curved into moons when he smiled or laughed, and certainly not when he whined like just another adult with problems.
When you checked the time on your wristwatch, you whistled– it was almost 2 in the morning. “Well. Time flies.”
“The night is still young, but we’ve both got to get up early, don’t we?”
“We sure do,” you nodded. “Well, this has been… a pleasure, San.”
“Likewise,” he propped his chin on his hand as he looked at you. “We should do this again.”
“Complaining about work?” You laughed. “Complaining about my bosses slash your friends?”
“Oh, so when you do it, it’s complaining, but when I do it, it’s whining? Noted,” San shook his head in disappointment and you grinned. “Can I tell you something, Luna?”
“Sure.”
“The hyungs– Yunho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong… they’re just like me and Yeosang. You just don’t know them yet.”
You looked at him for a moment. “I would have believed you if you had not included Seonghwa in that list.”
“Why?”
“You’re nothing like Seonghwa,” you joked. “He’s far too kind and refined.”
San’s loud laughter filled the room and you looked around, making sure no one was being disturbed. You leaned forward to tap his hand and make him stop laughing.
“I’m not lying, Luna,” San wiped his eyes. “Seonghwa… he may look refined but he can be very playful and childish when he wants to be. Yunho… well, once he warms up, you’ll know that he is the best kind of person you can have by your side.”
Somehow, his words wrapped around your heart like a promise. “You care about them a lot, huh?”
“I do,” he nodded. “They’re my friends, a part of my heart. I would do anything for them.”
“And… Hongjoong?”
“Hongjoong, well…” San smiled. “You find that out for yourself.”
“Not helping, San,” you folded your arms but he shook his head.
“All I can tell you is that if you’re lucky enough to break his walls… if he takes you under his wing, he won’t let anything hurt you. That’s the kind of person he is. He is the boss but he acts like a shield for us, and I wish I could do the same for him.”
You took note of his words. Did you trust San? A bit, yes. If he said all those things about Hongjoong, they must be true– at least according to his perception. But could you trust Hongjoong? Could you act as a shield for them so they could protect you in the future?
You made the decision before you slept that night.
During your night shift the next day, you waited for the office to get a bit emptier. When there was only Seonghwa and Hongjoong on the upper level, you took a leap of faith and knocked on the boss’s door. It was now or never, and you had to make your move.
“Come in,” Seonghwa’s voice sounded and you opened the door. Seonghwa was seated at the couch while Hongjoong was at the end of the room in his chair, scribbling on paper, not bothering to look at you.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You asked Seonghwa.
“Sure, have a seat,” he motioned to the couch in front of him and you did, sliding the report to him and glancing at Hongjoong once. “Is everything alright?”
“It is, but… I must warn you of something. You cannot proceed with the deal you’re making with Secretary Park Byung Eun.”
Seonghwa settled the pen he had been playing with on the table, taking a deep breath. “What is this really about?”
“Secretary Park is aiming to become the Minister of Health, isn’t that right? All of the ex-president’s team has either retired or left their posts, replaced by President Lee’s people,” you said. “Is that why you need Secretary Park? Because you have no other option?”
Seonghwa narrowed his eyes– how did you find out that he was aiming to become the next Minister of Health? It wasn’t publicly announced yet– he had yet to sign up as a candidate for that post.
“You must have one hell of a source,” Seonghwa looked amused, glancing at Hongjoong who was smoking a cigar and now looking at you with mild interest. You gathered your nerves before continuing.
“He is not a good candidate for the position, but that is not what matters right now. I would have gone to Kihyun but I decided to confirm with you first because I’m not sure if he’s aware of your plans, but… you must need Secretary Park to approve some drug in the future, right?”
Seonghwa’s brow rose ever so slightly and you jumped a little when Hongjoong slammed the pen that he had been holding on the table. He cocked his head as he glared at you.
“Miss Jeon,” he said in a warning tone. “If you don’t stop talking in circles right now and tell us what this is about, I’ll have to deal with you myself. You don’t want that.”
You gritted your teeth, unafraid for the first time in a while. “Do you want this business deal with Secretary Park to be legal? Just answer my question first, Mr. Kim.”
“That’s right,” Seonghwa answered for him.
“You should know that Secretary Park already has some business deals with Strictland officials going on,” you said in a low tone and the two looked at each other in surprise, clearly unaware. “You know how it will look for you if word comes out– Strictland is already an occupied state on the verge of military dictatorship. You can try to verify it for yourself if you want, but whatever deal Secretary Park has going on with Strictland… it’s not legal in any sense, neither is it moral.”
Seonghwa took a deep breath. “Our meeting with Secretary Park is scheduled for tomorrow.”
“And I thought you should be aware of this before the meeting,” you locked eyes with him, hoping he could see the desperation in them.
“Jeon y/n, was it?” Hongjoong called and you looked at him. He was squashing his cigar in the ashtray on his desk. You nodded and he finally smiled, though it looked almost devilish. “Why would you care to tell us this information?”
“You must have heard from your underboss,” you said. “I am willing to trade information with you in return for protection.”
“And power,” he pointed out the missing part. “You mentioned power.”
“I only desire power in order to survive in Eden,” you said.
“So why protection?” Hongjoong asked. “You can’t be a powerful figure in Eden and not have everyone targeting you.”
“Being a part of the Crescent Company is protection enough, I suppose,” you rested your hands on the soft material of your black pants, subtly wiping the sweat off.
“Protection from whom?” Hongjoong asked, his gaze set on you. You found it overwhelming almost to the point that you considered answering– he had a commanding presence.
“I… can’t say. Not yet,” you said and Seonghwa shook his head, having already known your answer. “I don’t expect you to tell me what the deal is about– after all, I’m only a bookkeeper. But I can give you better options– ex-president Mr. Son, for instance, or Assemblyman Kim Jooheon.”
“Assemblyman Kim is a nobody in the political scene if we are being objective,” Seonghwa said. “I don’t think he will have much to offer to us.”
“He will have something to offer to you if you give him something in return– maybe something that pulls him out of the shadows and into the spotlight of the political scene,” you said, recalling how the politicians in Edenary always thought Assemblyman Kim had the potential but lacked the resources.
“Why would Mr. Son ever associate himself with us?” Hongjoong got up from his seat, slowly walking towards you, hands in the pocket of his striped black suit. “We may be owners of a legal business company now, but everyone knows of our mafia ties and background.”
“You are an honoured military strategist who played a vital role to end the war, isn’t that true?”
Hongjoong chuckled at that, nodding slowly to confirm that and settling down next to Seonghwa. “Not everyone is aware of that, Miss Jeon. I don’t like people talking about it.”
“But Mr. Son was the president at that time, and he honoured you with a badge,” you kept his gaze. “I think he will agree that a person who did everything in their power to end the feud between two nations would not be making a deal that would harm his motherland and its people… don’t you agree?”
Hongjoong stared at you while considering your words. “You have a lot of audacity to come in here and make claims about a business you are not a part of, and people you don’t know enough about. Possessing such audacity is what almost cost you your life that night, and what is tempting me to retract the deal my partners made behind my back.”
And there it was. A stark reminder that you may have struck a deal with the queen, but you were still just a pawn in this game of chess where the king ruled. Weak and expendable– that’s what you were.
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa began but Hongjoong raised his hand in the air to stop him from speaking further, his eyes still locked with yours. You didn’t feel shame nor fear in that moment– just regret that maybe you had trusted the wrong people.
“You are a bookkeeper, and you can remain so. Goodnight, Miss Jeon.”
You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in and then you got up, bowing in greeting. “Good night, Mr. Kim, Mr. Park. Thank you for hearing me out.”
With that, you left the room and Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong. “You did not have to put it like that. I know she got you.”
Hongjoong slumped down on the couch in front of Seonghwa, cracking his knuckles while he thought about his next move. “Is there any way we can verify the information about Secretary Park without anyone getting a whiff?”
“I don’t know,” Seonghwa admitted. “I’m wondering how she knows that– if that was the truth. If Secretary Park really has a business deal with Strictland officials… I don’t think even his wife would know about that. If anyone gets a whiff of that, it could cost him his position and cause President Lee significant harm too, since Park Byung Eun is his secretary. You know how Strictland is still a sensitive topic after the war.”
“Then how does she know?” Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa. “Is she a spy?”
“She can’t be,” Seonghwa shook his head. “Luna worked as the bookkeeper at Crescent Bar for two years–”
“Luna?”
“That’s what everyone calls her,” Seonghwa said, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“She could be a mole, then,” Hongjoong sighed. “But no. Even a mole could not possess this information. What do we do?”
“Kihyun was Secretary Park’s former business partner. I’ll ask Yunho to check with Kihyun and confirm if Secretary Park is the right man for this deal, but that means we will have to let Kihyun know that we are intending to make such a deal.”
“We were going to tell him anyway, let’s proceed with that plan. And Seonghwa?”
“Yeah?”
“Contact the RV spies and get any information you can on your little bookkeeper.”
next chapter
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"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."
masterlist
ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au
chapter warnings: mentions of violence, gangs, drinking, shooting, near-death experience, illegal businesses, seonghwa and yunho are major assholes in this chap, san and yeosang have warmed up, mention of killing, etc
chapter wc: 9.8k
chapter synopsis: it is the year 1970 in eden when an attack on the crescent bar prompts you, the bookkeeper, to carry out yeosang’s order and flee with the contents of the safe. however, you are unlucky to have discovered an unknown, suspicious package that sentences you to an early death. left with no choice, you reveal secrets about the underworld to the crescents and their underboss that even they are not aware of. will this gamble prove to be fruitful?
It was very easy to get lost in the liveliness of the Crescent Bar. Despite being stationed away from the heart of it all, you often found yourself distracted by the chatter of a couple who would occasionally pop in for a drink, the hushed whispers of a group of men who would be looking over their shoulders every few minutes, the hearty laughter that would suddenly fill the hall and spread warmth in its wake, or simply, a lone traveller who would be swaying to the light music that you were actually sick of hearing but didn’t have the heart to complain about.
It was now second nature to jot in an observation or record transactions on an hourly basis, just like it was natural for you to take over the cashier’s place so the poor girl could take a break and move around. You no longer felt your hair rise every time you overheard a piece of information that you knew Yeosang or San would like to hear, nor did you feel your pores opening to release sweat every time they glanced your way– just like San did now, just having entered the bar and sent his trademark flirty smile in your direction.
“Restock champagne on table two, right away!”
“On the way!” You shouted instead of the new girl who was currently finding it hard to multitask. You didn’t have to worry about a thing– Yuju, the head of staff, noticed everything as if she had eyes in every corner of the bar. She would make sure to let the girl know that she was doing well with an encouraging pat to her back.
“They’re going to empty our inventory tonight,” Eunbi shared a grin with you. “We’re going to have to check the stock again.”
“I’ll take that– ask Jeonghan to wake the hell up and make sure we don’t run out,” you requested, sliding over to the cash register and typing in the latest entry, marking it with today’s date of 3rd April, 1970. Eunbi urged the waiters to speed up before rushing to the empty table at the left corner of the bar where Jeonghan was resting. She delivered the message with a smack and Jeonghan, who was never really asleep but just had a knack for pretending that he found the loud and bustling atmosphere of the bar relaxing, groggily walked across the hall to the door that led downstairs to check stock- or to get an actual nap. You would find that out later.
“Luna,” San greeted you with your nickname and you nodded in greeting– the nickname stuck with you after Jeonghan once called you Luna. Everyone started calling you by that name afterwards but only a handful knew it was short for lunatic and you intended to keep it that way.
You had no desire to use your real name anyway.
“Busy night?” San slid on the stool not far from you, Eunbi passing him a sweet smile before she started to pour Black Shadow for him- a staple of the Crescent Bar as the only supplier of the famous and well-loved Utopian wine in all of Eden. San swirled the red wine in his glass casually before downing it in one gulp and Eunbi refilled it before passing the bottle to you, going to attend to more pressing matters than one of the owners casually lounging to chat.
“Kind of,,” you turned to grab yourself a glass and San poured the wine for you. The clinking of your glasses echoed even in your loud surroundings and you took a sip, taking in his appearance- you assumed he must be returning from business since he was wearing a formal black suit, though he ditched his coat at the entrance. The white sleeves were rolled up, revealing his sturdy forearms with a thick silver watch on his left wrist and a silver band on his index finger- one you had never seen him without.
Your eyes travelled up to his face- tendrils of slick hair falling on his forehead. Choi San was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, and hardly anyone could deny that.
The problem was that perhaps, he really did not realise how painfully attractive he was. The man was far too humble for his own good, despite being one of the most dangerous and powerful men in Eden.
“Heard something interesting of late?” He inquired routinely. It was always a bit more casual with him as compared to Yeosang. Yeosang was the boss around here, yes, but San was the one who kept things under control. The pair of them worked together very harmoniously and you admired that, even though you had qualms about whatever they were doing- whatever you thought they were doing. Almost two years here and you still had no idea just what it was that their gang did.
Gang, you called them though they preferred ‘organisation’. The cops preferred ‘criminal organisation’ but you supposed it was just semantics at this point. Their name was Ateez- you never heard that term directly from any of their mouths, but even a child recognised that name and knew to avoid them- or avoid trouble with them.
But officially, they were the Crescent Company, owner of the Crescent Bar and other businesses in Eden.
“Just politics,” you finished the rest of your drink, adjusting the lone pearl ring on your right hand. “Everyone’s a little antsy with what happened at the protest. They think it’s Assemblyman General Wi’s gang.”
“General Wi would never interfere like that, though,” San scoffed in amusement- perhaps he genuinely found the idea of a man like Major General Wi resorting to dirty means hilarious. “He’s far too smart for that.”
“He is,” you had to agree. “But who else to blame? Only someone from the military would dislike people protesting against martial law. There’s only one candidate for presidency who’s got influence in the army. They think General Wi’s success in the elections would mean the army would control the state.”
“Isn’t the army somewhat controlling the state already, though?” San pondered. “President Lee has ties with the army too.”
You may have gotten used to interacting with the most feared gang in Eden, but the mention of President Lee still made you shiver involuntarily. San had noticed it one too many times and though he hadn’t asked for an explanation, you were sure you would lack the words to describe this sentiment anyway. “President Lee… cannot be controlled by the army, or anyone for that matter. General Wi may be smart but he’s still easily influenced when met with someone of a higher status- that’s what I heard,” you added the last bit hoping it wouldn’t sound like a personal opinion.
San raised a brow at your comment- you often tried (and failed) to mask your personal opinions under the guise of news but whenever you shared something, he made sure to listen- and listen beneath what your words tried to cover up. He often found your opinions and predictions regarding politics holding some weight and he wasn’t quite sure if you were subconsciously very observant or purposely pretending to be unaware. He once asked you how you knew so much but when you didn’t discuss any information with him for a few weeks, he took the hint. You only reported officially to Yeosang and he could bet you found it easier to talk to him about these things because he wasn’t one to probe.
“Keep me updated,” San said and you nodded. “Yeosang must be inside?”
“He’s actually in Room no. 1- he has visitors.”
“Visitors?” San frowned. “Who?”
“Lieutenant Jeong and co.,” you said and San shook his head at the way you so formally addressed the man. He had told you before that no one ever referred to him as the ‘lieutenant’ but you didn’t know how else to refer to him. “I was in the office earlier so they decided to take the room.”
“That’s okay, I’ll pop in there,” he grabbed a handful of nuts from the counter before walking to the backside of the bar, disappearing in the shadows as he reached the VIP area. You took a deep breath, your mind once again wandering to the ‘guest’.
Lieutenant Jeong Yunho was not a guest here at all. He belonged here. If you thought Choi San was intimidating, you were wrong. You still recalled the first time you saw him right outside the bar, all roughed up, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve but not a single scratch on him while a group of men around him writhed on the floor, clutching their mangled limbs. He met your eyes and your heart sank in the worst way possible- worse than the moment you were disowned by your own father. It was simply fear, and you hated feeling fear. You made up your mind to avoid him from then on but there was only so much you could do when you worked at the place he owned.
Oftentimes he came into the bar in the late hours of the night after wrapping up things in the main office and sat right where San had been sitting earlier in front of you, drinking the strongest wine available in silence- perhaps to sort his thoughts out. He didn’t mind you sitting near him and doing your paperwork, and you didn’t make him feel uncomfortable unlike the others who could not stop stealing glances at him- it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but you simply could not. You didn’t want him to find out what kind of an effect he had on you.
Especially when he had the warmest laughter and his entire demeanour shifted around his comrades. It intrigued you because he felt like two different persons in one vessel. That was the only time you would allow yourself to steal glances at him- when he was distracted enough. Otherwise you didn’t dare look at him in fear that he might find something about you that you had been struggling to hide all your life.
Eunbi came back after serving a group of guests, whispering, “This one table- they were awfully quiet when I went to serve them. I don’t know if it’s because they’ve got some gossip they don’t want anyone to hear or if they’re going to try something stupid.”
You looked at her- Eunbi’s instincts were usually spot-on. “Which table?”
“Over there,” she glanced at the corner and sure enough, the group of four was already looking in your direction. You pretended to be unaffected, asking her to take over the register. While casually strolling towards the door that led to the basement at the other end of the hall, you passed their table, noticing how they resumed talking only after you were out of earshot.
Something was up. You went downstairs to see Jeonghan napping on the couch.
“Oi,” you poked his thigh and he stirred, opening an eye. You knew he wasn’t really asleep- he wasn’t one to let his guard down, but you supposed he could have his moments of peace. “Stock?”
“Enough for tonight but I’ll place an order for tomorrow before we leave,” he said. “What’s up?”
“There’s a group at table seven. Four young men, armed with guns, awfully quiet and jumpy. Care to take a look?”
“They could have just lost a bet. They might be collecting the remnants of their pride- you tend to do that in silence,” Jeonghan mused.
“Yeah, well, I’d rather you make sure,” you said. “Lieutenant Jeong is here. They’d be stupid to try anything- anything at all, even if it’s just throwing a tantrum.”
“Ah,” Jeonghan got up and smoothened his long dark hair. “I suppose I’ll ask them if they require a better drink to down their shame.”
“Whatever,” you sniggered before going back to your position upstairs. You watched Jeonghan don his jacket as he entered the floor and he looked around, meeting eyes with the group and you both noticed two things-
That their hands went to their hip where the weapons rested, and that they exchanged quick glances with each other. Jeonghan looked at you and you shook your head, urging him to skip the plan and alert the others- it might be an attempt at robbery or worse, but they were so stupid to do that, especially tonight.
“You’ve restocked their drinks?” You asked Eunbi.
“They just ordered another, Soojin is going to refill their drinks-”
“The new girl?” You shook your head, “She’s been jumpy all night. Stop her, right now. They’re armed, they might do something stupid-”
Before you could finish the sentence or Eunbi could carry out your order, the loud shatter of glass made you both flinch and hold on to each other as you ducked, splinters raining down on you and making you both hiss in pain when some of them met your skin. You tucked Eunbi closer before you raised your head over the counter to assess the situation-
Chaos was the word. Eunbi had been right to be suspicious- the men were now pointing guns at whoever dared to move and another gunshot sounded followed by a guttural yell of the waiter whose arm took the blow. You met eyes with Soojin who stood frozen in the middle of the room and you motioned for her to stay that way.
“No one move!” One of the men shouted, wide eyes relaying the threat. “I’ll shoot you if you move!”
“I’m going to take the register and go to the office,” you whispered to Eunbi who shook her head furiously.
“It’s too dangerous- they’ll shoot you,” Eunbi held your arms in panic but you pried her hands away, squeezing them assuringly.
“I’ll be fine- they won’t spot me. I have to hurry,” you told her and before she could insist, you started crawling away from her, keeping close to the wall and moving towards the backside of the bar, avoiding the shards of glass as best as you could. You had orders to follow- orders Yeosang trusted you would follow at a time like this. You could not disappoint him now after everything he had done for you.
The office was the nearest room from where you sat crouched and if you made a dash for it, you could probably go unnoticed- if the instigators didn’t catch movement from the corner of their eyes. They were too busy forcing the customers to line up against the walls so you could take this chance-
Without thinking any further, you gathered the material of your skirt and thanked the lord that you wore boots instead of your usual heels today as you took a few large steps to disappear into the shadows, now successfully out of their vision. You silently unlocked the door and entered the empty office, taking a deep breath once inside, the adrenaline rush making your head spin. After stealing just a few seconds to calm down, you opened the drawers to make sure nothing of importance was there and then you bent down to access the locker under the desk-
The locker of which you had the key to all this time, but never once checked the contents of. You remembered when Yeosang promoted you from cashier to bookkeeper and told you that not all their transactions were legal- you just had to keep a record and stay shut about it. That, you could do. You kept the key on you at all times, and you took it out from the inside of your skirt’s waistband, unlocking the safe and gathering the two registers and a small packet wrapped way too much to figure out what it held inside. You held the things close to your chest as you made your way out, peeking first to see if the commotion had moved away from your eyeshot.
You took a turn to the narrow space at your right that led to the back exit, but that was not your destination- the room at the end of that corridor had a passageway that led to another exit in the alley. You slowed down at the sound of footsteps and you wondered if they were coming from right behind you-
Before you knew it, you were being pulled inside the room with a twirl that ended up with your back slamming against the wall, a gasp producing from your lips and freezing midway when you realised just who had pinned you against the wall-
Lieutenant Jeong. And he did not look pleased.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Carrying out orders,” you breathed, realising just how tall and broad he was now that he was in front of you, bending to reach your height. You clutched the registers tighter reflexively, your left wrist still in his strong grip. “I’ve been instructed to flee with the contents of the safe in case of an attack.”
“By who?”
“Kang Yeosang,” you said, though you figured he already knew the answer. “I have the key.”
The man scanned you slowly as if that would give him all the answers to the questions he wasn’t asking. He knew you were the bookkeeper, but did he not know that Yeosang trusted you enough with this?
The sound of a few rushed footsteps caused him to let go of your wrists and you rubbed the skin there. It was Yuju accompanied by the manager, Mingyu, and they told Yunho that there were more men outside now.
“Did you figure out who’s behind the attack?” Yunho asked.
“Probably Chan’s gang,” Mingyu huffed, looking at you and relaxing when he saw that you were safe. “I’m going back to get the rest of the employees.”
“I’ll stay here and make sure they get out safely,” Yuju nodded, noticing the items you were clutching. “Luna- go. We’ll call you when things settle down.”
You looked at Yunho- though you didn’t need his permission, you knew that he could very well ruin things for you. He didn’t trust you- he had no reason to. He told you to wait and disappeared out of the room and Yuju widened her eyes in confusion.
“I mean… I can understand,” you shrugged. “Is everyone okay back there?”
“I don’t think they knew that Yunho and his lackeys were here,” Yuju folded her arms, hugging herself. “They’re going to regret it. Whoever it is… they’ll make him regret ever coming up with this plan.”
“Even if it was just San and Yeosang, they couldn’t have won,” you said and Yuju agreed. “They both go a little crazy too.”
“But Yunho-” she shivered. “He’s something else.”
Your lips twitched in amusement despite the gravity of the situation and moments later, Johnny- Yunho’s assistant- appeared, looking battered.
“I thought it was a gunfight- why does it look like you were in a catfight?” Yuju commented, slumping down on one of the chairs and Johnny shot her an annoyed look.
“One, I didn’t have a gun on me. Two- they touched my hair!” Johnny huffed and you looked at the man in disbelief, all the impression you had of him going down the drain. Yuju was familiar with Johnny so she didn’t seem very surprised at his childish outburst. “Anyone who messes with my face will get worse in return.”
“Understandable,” you muttered. “Can I go now?”
“Oh, you’re staying here,” Johnny urged you to take a seat. “You’re not going anywhere- Yunho’s orders.”
“Wow, okay,” you sank down on the chair. “And you don’t have a gun? If someone comes here and tries to take these away from me?”
“They’ll have to get past me, you don’t need to worry,” he grinned. “You can relax.”
You could, but you were far too nervous to. You didn’t realise how badly you were rocking your legs until Eunbi entered and you groaned in relief to see she was unscathed. “They almost shot me. I can never get used to this.”
“You will get used to it, one day,” you told her, holding her hands and Eunbi squeezed it with an anxious smile, wondering if that was why you seemed mostly unaffected.
The rest of the employees came one by one in a matter of a few minutes, recovering from the initial shock though it quickly wore off since all of you had experienced something like this at least once- and working in a bar owned by a gang, it was bound to happen anyway. Everyone knew better than to call them a ‘gang’ to their face, though- they had spent years to make their business and organisation legal.
Somewhat legal, you would argue as their bookkeeper who knew that wine wasn’t the only thing being consumed here. Your hand that was clutching the packet in its grip itched in answer and you looked at it in suspicion.
The few new employees like Soojin were definitely in shock and Yuju did her best to calm them down. Johnny was kind enough to crack jokes to lighten the mood and you were glad to see it was working. Some people really were here to make a living and you were sure you were going to lose a few employees after this incident.
The door opened and Yeosang entered, looking unharmed, almost unfazed. He talked with Yuju first in hushed voices- probably something about the damage they would have to deal with. When he spotted you, he smiled and called you over. You got up and followed him outside to the corridor.
“Glad to see someone followed their orders,” he commented.
“I would have gone to that building you’ve told me about but…”
“Yunho stopped you, I know.” He was going in the direction of Room no.1 where he had previously been in with Yunho but when you entered, you found not only San but Park Seonghwa as well, looking as posh as ever.
The underboss of Crescent Company, he was the one person in all of the gang that you truly had respect for- it didn’t matter that Park Seonghwa was a criminal. You had once seen him help a lost child find his mother, and another time seen him carry a cat with a broken leg in his arms, and that had changed everything. Not only you but the whole town was aware that Park Seonghwa was a man that possessed a functioning heart unlike most of the gangsters here.
However, you were soon going to find how wrong you had been.
“Miss Jeon, please, make yourself comfortable,” Seonghwa’s calm voice sounded and you looked at Yeosang instinctively- what was happening? He only smiled though it didn’t quite meet his eyes, pouring you a drink which you downed- you needed it now more than ever.
“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Seonghwa said. “You have the contents of the locker?”
“Right here,” you placed them on the desk and Yunho shifted in discomfort.
“Thank you for keeping them safe,” the underboss took a deep breath. “I understand that you’ve been working here as the bookkeeper for a considerable amount of time now?”
“About a year, yes,” you straightened, suddenly aware of the tension in the room- even San appeared to be squirming, playing with the ends of his sleeves- you’d never seen him fidget like this. “What is this about, if I may ask?”
“And you… do you have some family? Someone you’ve been caring for?”
“Not in Eden, no,” you confirmed.
“Do you have any idea of what these items are?”
“That’s my registers,” you nudged the thick books. “I’ve recorded every transaction here, legal or not. And this…” you held the package in your hand. “I’m afraid I do not know, but if I have to assume… probably the drugs we slip to our VIPs here.”
Seonghwa met eyes with Yeosang who sighed. “I told you. She does not know, but she can be trusted.”
“We have a policy, Yeosang. I know we trust our employees, but the trust can only go so far.”
“If you could tell me what this is about,” you gritted your teeth, knowing fully well where this was going. “Maybe you should just talk to me, Mr. Park.”
“Well, here’s the thing,” he turned his attention to you, fixing his coat. “We cannot let you go since you’ve seen that,” he pointed at the package and you realised that it was not the drug that you were aware of.
But if not that, then what was it? You shook it slightly and felt the rustling of something powdery. It had to be a drug.
“And?” You countered. “I was assigned by one of you to take this and flee in case of an attack. I’ve simply followed orders.”
Seonghwa’s brow rose subconsciously and he shared a look with Yunho who looked amused- amused? You knew that people didn’t usually talk back to those in power, but you had once been there. They didn’t know that you once had power- some semblance of it, at least.
“I’ll be forward with you- we are not allowed to share that with anyone outside our circle, and anyone who does see that is subject to execution.”
You looked at Yeosang in disbelief- he knew that, yet he had still assigned you to carry out this job for him. He could have asked anyone, but he chose you, even when he knew Kihyun had recommended you. Kihyun, the leader of the longest standing gang here and Ateez’s partner. He knew how desperate you were for some stability in your life, yet he chose you.
“I chose you because I trusted you,” Yeosang offered, not meeting your eyes lest he saw how betrayed you felt. It didn’t matter anymore, though.
“You can’t kill me,” you told Yeosang. “You know who recommended me.”
“I’m sure they will understand,” Seonghwa answered in his stead.
“No, actually,” you tossed the packet on the table and folded your arms, liquid courage making its way up unfiltered as you met Yunho’s eyes- the one thing that you hid from him- from all of them. “I’m sure I’ll be much more useful alive.”
Yunho scoffed loudly, not quite believing the shift in your demeanour and the calculation in your voice, but Seonghwa leaned forward as if to question the sheer audacity that you displayed, and if you knew any better, you would have backed down and accepted your predetermined faith, but-
You still had unfinished business. You still had to take down the men of Eden who possessed power yet wielded it against their homeland. You still had to get back at your father for disowning you. You were far from your goal and you simply couldn’t stop here.
“Miss Jeon… how on earth could you be more useful alive to us?”
You mirrored Seonghwa’s posture, leaning forward as well and though the wide table separated the two of you, you could very well have been inches away considering how fixated your gazes were. “I know things about the people in power that even your angels do not know of, Mr. Park. I know how their minds work, I know their dirty little secrets. I know what to avoid when dealing with them. I could help you shake Eden’s current establishment- you should not kill me.”
A silence spread in the room as they processed your words and assessed your statement- was this a leap of faith or an act of stupidity? Whatever it was, it seemed to be enough. Seonghwa looked at Yunho again who seemed just as surprised as the rest.
“We could strike a deal,” you offered, relaxing back. While you knew that they could kill you right away and move on with their night, you decided that if you were really going to get killed, you could try something.
It wasn’t a bluff, no. You meant each word you said, but it was a gamble on your life.
“Luna,” Yeosang’s low voice prompted you to turn to him and adhere to his warning but you were still cross with him.
“What deal would that be?” Yunho finally spoke- you supposed that as consigliere to his boss, he handled these matters. “What information do you possess that is worth more than your life?”
“If I give it away right now, you won’t have any reason to keep me alive, would you?” You countered and San huffed in appreciation, making Yunho shoot daggers at him.
“What? She’s smart,” he pouted and you smiled inwardly, glad that he was still the same old San.
“You will have to give us something, darling,” Seonghwa straightened his gun on the table and though the action was casual, it felt like a mockery of how your life was literally in his- in their hands.
You leaned back to think- you had to play your cards right here, and very carefully. One wrong move and you’d be gone. What was it that you could reveal right now that would make them consider that you were a force to be reckoned with, and would also make them join hands with you? Could you make this mafia gang bend to your will, or were you asking for too much?
You looked around the room, meeting eyes with each one of them, calculating every possible move from here. Most of the information you had was something you couldn’t simply claim to know without blowing your real identity. If they started looking into your background properly this time, they would find out that your surname was borrowed and there was no record of you being here in Eden before 1966- that was four years ago. You came back from Wonderland in ‘66, having spent a few years there looking after your sick aunt and recovering from the shame and anger of being disowned by your father. You couldn’t tell them who your father was- it was far too early for that.
And since you couldn’t have them finding who your father was, you couldn’t let them know anything related to the pharmaceutical business your father owned, or his connections with the politicians- could you give them some information about a politician? President Lee, perhaps? But you weren’t sure how dangerous he was, maybe someone else-
Your eyes fell on an antique porcelain vase in the corner that looked awfully familiar. Your frown deepened as you tried to recall where you had seen it, and when it clicked, you realised you had your answer.
“You got that vase from Assemblyman Major General Wi, is that right?”
The four of them turned to look at the object you were pointing at. Yeosang confirmed that you were right. You couldn’t help but have your lips curl in a smirk. “You might want to return it. You don’t want to have an object that was used for money-laundering… unless you’re involved.”
Yeosang blinked in confusion, looking at the older two who seemed to be concealing any hints of emotions. San, however, looked just as confused as Yeosang. “How do you know that?”
“That’s not the point,” you told him. “The point is that General Wi’s artefact gallery is just a cover for his money-laundering business. Not a good look for a presidential candidate, is it?”
Seonghwa nodded, perhaps connecting some dots in his head and coming to the conclusion that you may be right. “I’m impressed, Miss Jeon. I will verify this information but I have a feeling that you’re speaking the truth.”
You nodded and Yeosang finally laughed in disbelief. “Who are you really, Luna?”
“Your bookkeeper who’s asking that you take consideration of my loyalty and make a deal,” you said and when Yeosang nodded, you continued. “I… I, too, have unfinished business. You know I was desperate to have stability when I first got a job here- it wasn’t always like this. I will give you all the information that you need as long as you protect me as your source. As long as you keep me safe, because you and I,” you turned to Seonghwa. “We have the same goals.”
“And what might that be?”
“Power and protection,” you said, sure that you were right about the first part but when Seonghwa’s brows twitched, you realised that the shot in the dark with ‘protection’ wasn’t fruitless. “We’ve all got something or someone to protect. I’m protecting myself. You’re protecting your people.”
“You’re very talkative… Luna,” Yunho commented and your heart fluttered at the way he called your name- only the nickname, yet you were wavering. You mentally scolded yourself. “This could be the only information you possess. Not enough.”
“Oh, please,” you countered. “You know I have more- I can’t be running on sheer confidence here. But don’t think for one second that you can torture that information out of me,” you said and when Yunho smiled guiltily, you somehow found yourself smiling back despite the fact that your life was on the line. “Protect me and I’ll make sure your boss overthrows the current establishment and becomes the most powerful man in Eden.”
“Protect you from who?” Yunho asked and you gulped involuntarily, recalling the darkness and emptiness in the eyes of the person the whole nation admired.
“I can’t say yet, just… keep me in the shadows, for now. Please.”
Yunho looked at Seonghwa- you couldn’t be making this up. Yeosang asked you to go home and that they would give you an answer soon. When you left the room, Yeosang sat down next to San.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?”
“She’s not lying, yes,” San confirmed and Yeosang nodded. “She’s only ever worked, right? We’ve been seeing her for a year now. Work and home is all she does, isn’t that so?”
“Yes. I kept an eye on her for a few months before I assigned her with bookkeeping duties- she has no family here. Just a few acquaintances- Kihyun of MX Pharmaceuticals, which I thought was odd, but they were a gang before they became a pharmaceutical company, so maybe she encountered them at some point. They literally know everyone.”
“And her roommate just so happens to be Wendy.”
“I dismissed it as a coincidence. She couldn’t be one of the RV spies, could she?”
“Nope. They’re far too meticulous.”
“You assigned bookkeeping to a person who was acquainted with both Kihyun and Wendy?” Yunho raised his brows in disbelief. “That’s too big a coincidence, guys.”
“Wendy is under a disguise, Luna probably doesn’t know what she actually does,” Yeosang said. “Besides… I trust her. I really believe it wasn’t necessary to just kill her like that. It’s not like she knows what’s inside this,” Yeosang poked the packet with his finger.
“I don’t think Chan’s gang got a whiff of our drug dealing,” Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his lengthy locks. “They must have attacked just to get us riled up. They wish to tarnish our reputation because General Wi is choosing sides.”
“We really need to check if the thing about the artefacts gallery is true,” Yunho said. “If it is, we have to tread carefully. Hongjoong will be pissed to learn what happened tonight.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Seonghwa got up. “This girl… Luna?”
“That’s what everyone calls her here,” Yeosang said and Seonghwa nodded slowly.
“She’s something. I’ll verify her information- it’s probably true. Tell her we’ve got a new job for her.”
When you bluffed your way out of your death- though you hadn’t really lied, you did hold information that could ruin Eden- you didn’t expect that you’d find yourself with a new job in the main office of the Crescent Company. You paused in the middle of recording the last entries of the day and your job, only to catch Yeosang watching you with interest.
You folded your arms, staring back and pulling your lower lip between your teeth in contemplation.
“Are you sure this isn’t just a trap to kill me? You could just shoot me and get on with your day, why go through all these lengths?”
Yeosang’s rich laughter boomed in the office room and you sent a tired glare in his direction before going back to checking the receipts of the new stock.
“We would have killed you last night if we really wanted to.”
The nonchalance with which he said that sent a bitter taste down your throat, reminding you of familiar words you had heard a few years ago, but you knew that this situation was different- you had to believe that they were different. Otherwise, there was no hope left for Eden.
“I’m still mad that you signed me up for death with this job, by the way. That was a low blow.”
“You are our first bookkeeper,” Yeosang said in response. “We just didn’t know what to do… does that sound like a good excuse?”
“Hardly,” you muttered. “I thought we were… acquaintances, if not friends. I respected you, Yeosang.”
Yeosang put a hand on his chest. “Respected? Do you hate me now?”
“I can’t really hate you when you’re… you,” you shut the register, looking at him.
You had spent long hours with Yeosang in this very office. Somehow, with him, it had always been naturally comfortable and he once admitted that he thought it was odd how you both could be in the same room, busy with your own work yet feeling right at home. Though you barely ever had a heart-to-heart with the man, the impression that he was a scary gangster had vanished long ago. He was scary when he had to be, but he just felt more human than his partners.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m just a little hurt that you delivered me on a platter to your underboss for him to do whatever he wanted with me. Try to understand,” you explained. “And I still respect you, don’t worry.”
“He wouldn’t have killed you. I would have stopped him,” Yeosang insisted.
“You were more nervous than me,” you scoffed.
“I was nervous for you, that you were going to make a mistake and he would really have to kill you,” Yeosang admitted and you blinked in surprise. “But you did just fine on your own. Are you not going to tell me who you really are?”
“I can’t tell you that yet,” you told him. “I trust you just enough to gamble with my life, but I’ll reveal things only when I’m sure the information would be in safe hands. You have to trust me a little too. It’s not like I can betray you- where would I even go? You’re all going to kill me if I make a mistake anyway.”
Yeosang nodded- you had a point. “Have you got nothing to lose?”
“I’ve already lost everything that I had,” you shook your head. “I’ve only got my life now.”
“I have a feeling you’ll do well in the main office,” Yeosang clapped his hands once in conclusion. “Since you’re already aware that we’re doing both legal and illegal dealings, you can do bookkeeping there. I have to warn you though- if information ever leaks, they will kill you without hesitation.”
“Geez, thanks,” you winced. “Tell me something new.”
“I don’t know where you got the guts to talk back to me,” Yeosang laughed, shaking his head once. “But keep this up and you won’t last long.”
“Why?” You leaned forward on the table in challenge. “Are you and San the only ones who can converse like normal humans?”
“We’re always just a little tipsy,” Yeosang said cheekily and you realised he was right. “You shouldn’t see me when I’m sober.”
You pursed your lips, realising that he was right- if he was anything like the rest of his gang, he had to be drunk all this time if he could tolerate you, a mere employee, talking like you were on his level.
“Snob,” you muttered and got up to put these registers with the rest of the piles, ignoring Yeosang’s snickers. “Alright, my work here is done.”
“You’re fired,” Yeosang announced with a grin. “I’ve wanted to say that to you for so long.”
“You’re hopeless! I’ve been promoted, not fired,” you corrected.
“Whatever,” Yeosang got up, checking the time on his wristwatch. “San will be here in a few minutes- he’ll accompany you to the main office. You can say your farewells but you’ll be here often. It’s not a goodbye.”
“Okay,” you stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around- the beige walls with paint peeling in the corner, the dark shelves and furniture, the gramophone in one corner that you never played because you could always hear music from outside.
“I’ll miss this,” you took a deep breath, nodding as you memorised and soaked in the feeling of this room.
“You’ll be back,” he assured, giving you a moment. “Now off you go.”
Sticking your tongue out at him, very out-of-character for you and taking him by surprise, you exited the office. You could hear what his response would have been- ‘just because we decided to keep you alive doesn’t mean that you can act out!’ but it was exactly that. If you had their protection, you would act out- just not to them.
To the people who wore the cloaks of saints over their demonic hearts and ruled over Eden.
“Luna!,” Eunbi spread her arms as soon as she spotted you and you gladly let her hug you. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”
“I’m hearing I’ll be here often, so you won’t have to worry too much,” you poked her ribs, making her squirm as she laughed. “Just stay safe. And no matter what, do not become their bookkeeper.”
Eunbi frowned at that but before she could ask you more, the bell over the front door chimed and you knew it was San the way the bar suddenly fell quiet. You let go of Eunbi and patted her cheek before meeting eyes with San who waved at you.
Waved. You were a little pleased to see that the new arrangement was as awkward for him as it was for you. Eunbi echoed that out loud with a ‘did he just…?’ and you told her to get back to the counter.
“Hi,” San stifled a smile. “Good to see you’re still in one piece.”
“No thanks to you,” you countered. “Shall we?”
“I’m just going to let Yeosang know that I’m here,” San said, finally chuckling. “Look, if it helps, Seonghwa wasn’t really going to kill you.”
“I keep hearing that, but it just feels like you’re trying to convince yourselves instead of me,” you shook your head. “It doesn’t matter. I'll say my farewell to Yuju.”
You agreed to meet outside in five minutes and you went to find Yuju, who told you to stay safe. Jeonghan looked more worried than Yuju- he had overheard some of their conversation last night about them getting rid of you but you assured him it was alright now. You just found out something you shouldn’t have so they were just being cautious. Though he didn’t look convinced, he let you go with an affectionate pat to your shoulder and a joke about how no one is going to let him nap in peace anymore.
Before you went outside, you took a look in the mirror and adjusted your black slacks and the rounded collar of your cream blouse before wearing your black coat over it. San was already waiting for you in his car- a black ‘67 Bentley- and you got in the backseat, your heart beating in anticipation.
“It’s not a long drive from here,” San said, “But I thought as an apology, I’d give you a ride.”
“I’ve been in better cars, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you said and San deadpan stared at you. You squirmed, realising an explanation would entail revealing details from your background. “I mean… the condition could definitely improve.”
“Yeah, it’s been through a lot, you’re right, “ San let out a chuckle before glancing at you. “You’re not going to tell me where exactly you’ve been in better cars? Because as far as I know, you were struggling to make a living when you first got a job here.”
“That was because I moved back from Wonderland after a long time,” you fiddled with your pearl ring. “Anyone would struggle.”
“And how do you really know Kihyun?”
Kihyun- he was almost like a brother to you. As a child, you had often seen him go in and out of your house because of some business dealings with your father. Though your father kept you hidden for the most part, having homeschooled you and pretending that you were his niece instead of daughter, Kihyun knew. He was far too smart to be deceived by a simple lie, and your brother had made it painfully obvious that he hated you for a reason. And when everything went wrong, Kihyun was there as a shield.
He had offered you a place in his company too, but you could not possibly involve Kihyun into your plans for the demise of your enemies. You respected him far too much to drag him into your mess.
“He’s just a connection- we have a few mutual acquaintances.”
“And who might they be?” San asked but you shook your head.
“I can’t reveal their identities… yet,” you said and when he narrowed his eyes, you stifled a smile. “Is there something I should know before we reach the office?”
“Well,” San exhaled, thinking. “It’s going to be quite different from the bar- more professional and tense. I’m sure the secretaries you’ll work with will warm up to you eventually but they might come off as unwelcoming or prickly at first.”
“We’ll see,” you said. “And… will I be interacting with… one of you often?”
“Why?” San questioned, a playful smile gracing his lips. “Is there someone you’d like to interact with?”
“That’s not what I mean-” you started but the car came to a halt and with a dirty look thrown in San’s direction, you got out of the car and craned your neck to look at the double-story building that was the main office for Crescent Company.
It wasn’t anything much, and you knew that that was intentional. Just like all the other office buildings in this somewhat posh area of the town, it had a chestnut brick wall with a new moon that made up for the ‘c’ in crescent. The guard situated at the front door bowed to San as you entered. The employees inside acknowledged San’s presence, halting what they were doing and only resuming once San nodded. There were a handful of them- a receptionist and a few workers coming in and out of the unlabelled rooms. You supposed everyone was assigned a task and had respective offices.
“This is us,” San announced, motioning at the somewhat lifeless interior. “Nothing much, and we would like to keep it that way. You’ll be working upstairs with Jihoon and Eunha- they are our boss’ secretary.”
“Mr. Park’s?” You questioned as you followed him at the end of the hall towards the stairs.
“And Hongjoong’s,” San said and you paused in the middle of ascending the stairs.
“I’m going to work for Kim Hongjoong?”
“Relax,” San snickered. “He’s always holed up in his office if he’s not in the field, and Jihoon does the assistant work. You won’t encounter him too much.”
“That’s not the point,” you muttered. You reached the upper story to see three rooms across the spacious hall which was set up as an office itself. There were two people working in that space, sitting in front of the windows where there were three desks in a row. It didn’t look out of place since their workspaces were spread across the entirety of the hall. The empty desk looked a bit odd, though, and you reckoned it had been set for you which meant they must have moved things around a bit.
“I’ll leave you to get acquainted with them,” San said. “There won’t be much to do for a few days until they think you can handle the work.”
When Jihoon’s burning gaze met yours indicating his annoyance- already?- you gulped. Perhaps, you should have stuck to the bar or denied their offer. Jihoon was quick to change his expressions as he rose from his seat.
“Mr. Choi,” Jihoon greeted and Eunha looked a bit surprised as if she hadn’t heard you two come. She followed with her own greeting, tucking her short pink hair behind her ear in what looked like a nervous habit.
“This is… Jeon y/n- the new secretary. I hope you’ll train her well. She’s already familiar with bookkeeping so I don’t think she’ll have to learn much.”
“No worries, we’ll handle it,” Jihoon said. “Nice to meet you, Miss Jeon.”
“Nice to meet you too. You can just call me Luna- everyone does.”
“That’s a pretty name,” Eunha shook hands with you. “This is your desk, and I’ll give you a walkthrough before Jihoon takes you around the office, is that okay?”
“Sure,” you nodded, feeling hopeful. You turned to San. “I think I got it from here.”
“Very well,” San nodded. “Take care of her- she’s got potential.”
Jihoon only smiled in response and as soon as San was out of sight, he slumped down on his desk and went back to typing. You turned to Eunha who only smiled awkwardly, muttering ‘he’s a bit cranky at times’ and you shrugged. You could deal with cranky.
Eunha told you about your duties- bookkeeping since you had experience, typing a report each night that Mr. Park or Mr. Jeong would be signing, and any other miscellaneous tasks that Eunha and Jihoon couldn’t cover in their shift hours. Once she was done briefing, she handed you over to Jihoon who made a display of grunting in annoyance before he guided you downstairs to the last room which was essentially a storage.
“You must know that not all the business under the Crescent Company is legal,” he said and you nodded. “Where would you keep the record of illegal transactions?”
“Definitely not here?”
“Here,” he corrected, “but concealed while still being right in front of your eyes. In the case of a raid by the detectives because a certain inspector has been on our case for a while, they will take everything in here, right? The illegal transactions are kept in a safe behind that painting,” he pointed towards the mediocre painting of cherry trees in the darkest corner of the room.
“And the key?”
“A code, this time,” he said. “I’m still hesitant about sharing it with you but Mr. Choi said you could be trusted.”
“I’ve handled such matters before, yes,” you told him, understanding why he was sceptical about you. “There’s a reason I’m here.”
“That is definitely not the reason why you’re here,” Jihoon scoffed loudly. “Just because you passed a little trust test does not mean you get a position as the boss’s secretary. Eunha and I have worked under them since the beginning- that’s a plausible reason. They trust us.”
Though you wanted to argue with the man, you decided that you would be better off being civil towards him if you had to tolerate him to keep your job.
“Who else knows the key?”
“Apart from the boss, underboss and consigliere… only Eunha and I. So if information leaks, if the location of the safe leaks-”
“I’ll be the obvious suspect, of course,” you nodded and Jihoon considered you for a moment before acknowledging your answer.
“Our schedules are going to change now, so there is always at least one person out of the three of us in the office at all times, though the three of us must always be present in the 12 to 2pm slot. In case of an emergency, you are expected- obliged to get down here and escape with the contents of this safe, is that clear?”
“Clear as day,” you confirmed.
“1024 is the code,” Jihoon said and you nodded, memorising it. “Now, let me show you where we keep the official records.”
You took note of every little thing Jihoon had to tell you. Eunha observed how you worked for the rest of the evening and made you acquainted with the methods that you were to use. You were familiar with the work- you had already been in charge of tracking expenses, monitoring budget and keeping a record of all the financial transactions in the Crescent Bar. Eunha was going to take care of tax payments and returns while Jihoon was going to supervise.
It was a manageable workload so you were pleased with your current position- you just hoped the two would warm up to you soon. You did not expect them to get along with you, you just prayed they would remain civil and not stir any trouble.
Your schedule was going to change from the next day and your shift was from 6pm to midnight- or more, if the need be- and you would also have to be present in the 12 to 2 pm slot. Since you were going to be the one who would lock up the office, you received a set of keys which included one for the storage, one for the main door, and one for Jeong Yunho’s office- in case he or Park Seonghwa weren’t present- to lock away those documents. You were to place them in the cupboard in Mr. Jeong’s room.
While you were in the office today, you didn’t encounter any of your bosses. You figured their absence wasn’t unusual since no one was talking about them. Eunha helped you prepare the report that you were to hand over tonight in her stead if anyone did visit the office because she had a work appointment and needed to be there. She told you to make sure that all the locks are in place before you leave for home.
While you waited for the clock to strike midnight- which was about twenty minutes from now- you busied yourself with scratching your pencil at a piece of paper that was going to be discarded anyway. One thing that calmed you like nothing else was the feeling of the pencil’s lead rubbing against the grains of the paper and leaving a mark for you to play with. With a very specific picture in your mind, you continued to draw straight lines, sharp curves and edges, adding the elements of threat and danger where needed, but preserving the softness of it all-
“What are you doing here?”
You looked up to find not the person you were hoping to see but the person you wanted to avoid the most.
Jeong Yunho.
Lieutenant Jeong Yunho, all dressed up in a black suit with engraved silver buttons, the black tie loose on his neck, his hands hidden in the pockets of his pants. Your eyes travelled up to his parted lips, to the muscles of his jaw flexing and unflexing, to his dark gaze trained not on you but lower- what was he looking at-
You subconsciously put a hand over your incomplete sketch and got up in greeting. “Lieutenant Jeong. I have the report- Eunha had a work engagement.”
“I see,” he nodded slowly as if still coming to terms that you were to work here now. You could return the sentiment- it was a strange feeling to see him here. You had acknowledged each other’s presence in silence and at rare times, shared a drink (you didn’t often drink at the bar). But standing across each other in this formal setting…
“Well?”
You broke out of your trance, feeling heat creep up your neck. Perhaps, you were waiting for him to call you to his office. Had you expected him to do that because Yeosang had done the same once? He had been so nonchalant about everything but right now, you felt overwhelmed. You fumbled with the folders until you dug out the report, cursing yourself internally because why didn’t you place it right on the top?
You extended your hand and he drew closer to grab the document from you, reminding you once again of how tall he was. You gulped- there was no way to explain what you were feeling except a crushing sense of intimidation that made you feel so very small. It had been about a year, yet whenever you were in his presence, your mind took you back to memory lane-
Specifically the lane near the bar where he ended his enemies and found you watching. Neither of you ever addressed why you had been there or why he had done all of that mercilessly.
“Looks fine,” he said, turning the few pages and skimming through them. “You can leave now- it’s almost closing time. I’ll lock the doors behind me”
“Alright…” were you two the only ones inside the building? “Goodnight, Lieutenant.”
“You don’t have to call me lieutenant, you know,” he said and you met his eyes again, finding the ends of his lips slightly curled in a… smile? Or was that a smirk?
“How would you have me address you then?”
Somehow, it oddly reminded you of a similar conversation you had with Yeosang, except you had been calling him ‘sir’ and he couldn’t stop snorting everytime you called him that. He let it be for the entire day until he told you to just call him Yeosang- calling him sir in an informal environment only earned him odd looks. You argued that apart from the selected few employees, literally everyone called him ‘sir’ or a variation of it, but he insisted that you already sounded like something was stuck up your [redacted] and he didn’t want to add on to that.
That was the only time he saw your composure break. The rest was history.
The consigliere shrugged, giving you yet another glimpse of the person he was. He didn’t like to be called lieutenant, even though this was a formal environment.
“Mr. Jeong then, since everyone calls you that,” you concluded.
“And do you still go by Luna?”
“I… do.”
He nodded once, his gaze falling at the paper you were hiding from him. You kept your hand placed over it and he turned, disappearing into his office. You didn’t miss the frustrated grunt that escaped his mouth as he shut the door.
Your shoulders relaxed and you picked the paper- he had definitely seen and recognised the gun that you had just seen last night on the table, and he probably recognised the hand that held it as well- the long, slender fingers that radiated delicacy despite being roughed up.
The hand of the underboss of Crescent Company. Someone you had wished to meet before the night ended.
~ next chapter
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