RAVANA

YOUR LOVE IS SUFFOCATING ME.

[rcvana]

  ꙰  𓈒 ˙ 𓍼 RAVANA is a fictional five member boy band who debuted in 2013 under HONEYMOON AVENUE. this blog will contain mature themes and sensitive topics, such as death, drugs, sex, a recurring concept of escaping the past, and more. created with love by nya!

INTRODUCTION. PROFILES. DISCOGRAPHY.

[flcurry]

49 please !

LICK MY WOUNDS

in which charmeine is always the one licking kyrie's wounds.

PROMPT 49. TAKING THE OTHER'S HANDS TO LOOK FOR INJURIES CHARACTERS. CHARMEINE YU, KYRIE HAN @pink-ttes @rcvana WARNINGS. DRUGS, VIOLENCE IS MENTIONED BUT NEVER WRITTEN IN ACTION, GUNS WORD COUNT. 1.5k

It’s one of Charmeine’s first off days in a while. She was expecting to make the most of it. She looked forward to it being any other casual Sunday where she lies in her bed with her hair tied into a messy bun, her glasses perched atop her nose as she snuggles into her blanket watching whatever sappy dramas on her laptop. That was all she was expecting to happen on this Sunday evening. Keyword: was. 

Of course, there could never be a moment of peace with her and the people she chooses to spend her time with. It’s not too long before her door comes flying open and shut, revealing the figure of her boyfriend, Kyrie. 

She gasps at his sudden arrival. “Oh, my God, Kyrie, what are you doing here?”

But before she can get an answer to that, her facial expression contorted into one of severe concern. She takes in his hunched over frame, where his fingers pressed at wounds that were littered over his face while his other hand occupied his abdomen. 

“What the fuck happened? Are you okay?” Charmeine quickly lifts herself up from her bed and rushes to his side. He groans painfully as he practically throws himself onto her carpeted floor. She takes her slender finger and traces it over a fresh bruise that looks as though it’s been strategically placed underneath his eye. He moves his hand and lets her examine it, but winces when the pad of her finger grazes against it. 

“Baby, what happened this time?” She asks once again.

He looks into her eyes as her hands move from wound to wound. “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay?” Charmeine repeats incredulously, her brows furrowing. “This isn’t okay, this is bad. You’re literally bleeding.”

“When am I not?” Kyrie sarcastically asks, a stupidly playful lilt to his tone. “I’m fine. Seriously, I’m fine.”

She hates how he doesn’t take anything seriously. He could be bleeding out in the middle of her bedroom floor and he would still brush it off as if it was nothing. He laughs and shrugs like she’s overreacting and she hates it. She wishes that he would be more careful but she knows that it’s not in his nature. 

“Just tell me what happened.” Her eyes grow more pressing as she looks at him. Her hand goes to tenderly cup his face and he practically melts into her palm. Somewhere along the lines, his expression softens and he looks to the little space in between them. That once playful and careless demeanor is replaced by a sort of guilty look. 

He doesn’t have to use his words for her to get a hint of what went down. She sighs. 

“I’m sorry baby,” he says before even fessing. “I just wanted a little more money, you know? Just to be safe. Just to be secure.”

“Yeah, for your money to be secure but not you?” She scolds. “All of the money you have won’t matter if you’re dead.”

“Things just went a little left. Sometimes that happens but I’m okay. I got what I needed so I came here,” Kyrie explains, his voice hushed but oddly calm. 

Whenever Kyrie was hurt or got into trouble it’s like his natural instinct was to go to Charmeine. No matter where he was, he always found himself knocking on Charmeine’s door. She was a safe space for him. She cared for him and she cleaned the blood off of his body when he did something stupid. She was like the mother of a primal animal, licking the wounds of her young once they returned from hunting their prey. 

She was the first girl to be that person for him. She knows of all the things he’s done and has been into. And she’s the only one to treat him the same. Of course, naturally she wanted him to stop but she stayed even though he didn’t. Kyrie told her on multiple occasions that he would stop dealing drugs, that he would give up that life—especially once he was financially comfortable enough to do so but it was a hard feat for him. You can take him away from the environment but he will always find his way back.

“Kyrie, I worry about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” her voice grows whinier, tears beginning to swell in her eyes. She hates hearing herself sound like this. He probably hates it even more. “I don’t want to have to see you on the news because of this. I—I can’t have that happen to you, I can’t lose you, Kyrie.”

“I know, Charm. I’m sorry,” Kyrie apologizes. 

“I don’t want you to cry about that, you don’t ever have to worry about me,” he says softly. “Let me worry about you. I’ve got it.”

“Can you just give it up? For me?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper. 

There’s a pause before he nods, blinking slowly. Both of them doubt his sentiments. He’s said that before and he’s gone a little time without it but he’ll be back. Charmeine doesn’t understand why he would want to return to a place that hurts him so much. A place that scarred him and took so much from him; So many people from him. He lifts his hand to touch her face but winces when it makes contact. 

“Is your hand okay? Did you break something?” She anxiously questions. She takes his hand into hers, eyes scanning the flesh, turning it this way and that. She notices little scars littering the surface, both the back of his hand and his palm. She can tell that one of them is from hitting someone. She applies pressure to his pinkie and notices the way he flinches. 

“Do you think you fractured it?” She questions. 

He quickly shakes his head, fully enveloping her hand in his, preventing her from further inspecting it. “I’m okay, Charm.”

Charmeine smiles sympathetically at him once her eyes meet his. He leans in and places a gentle kiss on her lips, one that lingers for her. She gets up from the ground, looking down at him. “Do you have anything on you?”

Kyrie silently nods, almost immediately going to retrieve something from beneath his shirt and from tucked away in his pants. 

He pulls out a gun in one hand and a stack of money in the other. Even though this has happened on more than several nights, seeing him brandishing a gun and knowing that he’s used it still makes her heart feel heavy. She still gets nervous dealing with all of it. But she knows he would never hurt her. And she knows that getting all worked up over it doesn’t help the situation at all. She’s learned to stifle them to the best of her ability. Besides, she doesn’t want to draw anymore attention to their escapades than the basis of it already has within the dorms. Her members have already got an idea of what’s going on with them and they've already questioned her about it before. 

Charmeine grabs both of them and goes to her personal bathroom. She stuffs the money in a drawer, tucking it safely so it’s hidden from a looking perspective. She then grabs some rubbing alcohol and a towel and pours the strong smelling liquid onto the firearm. She wipes it down with a soft towel and then neatly tucks it in the cabinet underneath the drawer filled with cash. Next, she grabs another, thicker towel, a container of sterile water, and a handful of bandages. 

She walks back into her room, where Kyrie is still sitting on her floor, his body carelessly strewn over her carpet and his eyes the slightest bit tired. She sits directly in between his legs, the warmth from her body so comforting he forgets that he has a heap of gashes over his usually soft skin. 

When he’s with her, he forgets about everything. The world closes in on just those two, his mind loses sight of the fact that other things matter in the world. But in those moments, there is no other thing that matters. He has tunnel vision when he’s with Charmeine. 

She takes the towel dipped in the sterile water and tenderly dabs at his face. She cleans him up and bandages the injuries. She takes her time making sure that everything is covered, working from underneath his eye, to his cheeks, and all the way down to his hands. She pulls his shirt over his head and she can’t help but notice how particularly hot he looks when he’s tired and just letting her take care of him.

She smiles to herself, which is something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kyrie—who returns the favor. Even though he’s weaker than usual in this state, he can’t help but wrap his arms around her waist and squeeze her tight, pulling her close to his bruised chest. She giggled into the crook of his neck. 

“I know all those battle scars are screaming for dear life right now,” Charmeine teases. 

“I can’t even feel them,” he dismisses with a chuckle. 

Kyrie sprinkles kisses all over Charmeine’s face. She immediately brightens at the tickling sensation, moving even closer into him, if that was even possible. 

“I love you, you know that right?” He asks, his fingers playing with the hem of her white pajama shirt, some of the half-dried blood from his fingertip staining her top. 

“I’m pretty aware.”

[nattawins]

APO NATTAWIN as PORSCHE KINNPORSCHE: THE SERIES (2022) dir. Khom Kongkiat

[lee-haechan-archived-deactivate]

DOYOUNG for @haechannabelle

[rcvana]

BE MY MISTAKE ... KYRIE HAN ! characters. kyrie han, maya wang warnings. suggestive content, briefly sexual content, i believe that all ! word count. 0.891

Kyrie is a complicated man. Some would say he’s impossible to love. He’s dumb, he’s impulsive, and he fucks up with everyone he loves. He makes everything harder for everyone. It’s almost hilarious how he seems to never make the right choices. Almost.

Almost because his choices are those made by assholes. Ones he would classify as mistakes but they keep happening, so even his friends are left wondering if they’re really mistakes or just the fucked up way he was born. 

And he’s sure this is going to be another mistake that he’ll have to excuse around others, as he stands at the doorstep. He knocks on the door of the lofty home. It’s one of the nicest houses Kyrie’s seen up-close in Korea. The door opens up, revealing a girl of shorter stature and thick, chocolate colored hair. 

“Hey,” Maya greets, her eyes their usual sultry low. 

Kyrie leans down and places a brief kiss on her cheek. Maya steps aside, allowing Kyrie to enter. He eyes her up and down, taking in the baby pink loungewear she’s clad in. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” she smiles. 

He feels a little odd, being here. It’s not like he hasn’t been here plenty of times before, laying his feet wherever he pleases and eating up the food she cooked. But things are different now, considering the circumstances. 

The house is empty, Maya’s daughter is with Addy today. Kyrie always admired how Maya never invited anyone over that was anything more than platonic (or a man in general that wasn’t her father), when Kaia was there. She was a good mother, he knew that. It’s something that drew him to her in the first place. He likes a woman who handles her business, he always says. That knows her priorities and has them straight. 

“Are you okay?” Maya asks, taking him by surprise. “You’ve been, like, spacing out since you got here.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Kyrie envelopes her hands in his, staring down into her golden shaded eyes. “I’m more than good, ‘cause I’m here with you.”

She smiles coyly, a flush creeping across her cheeks. 

“I, uh, I have this movie that I liked and thought that you might like,” she says, squeezing his palm. 

“Let’s watch it.”

Of course, naturally, an actual watching of movies only lasted about twenty minutes before the cuddling started feeling more hot than it initially did. Because then hands started moving, and then kissing got involved, and then they succumb to the feelings of sweltering passion and the coming undone that nears rough. That’s how sex always was between Kyrie and Maya. Everything was fast and rough, and it’s not to say it doesn’t feel good. Maya was good at everything she did in the bed. She knew what she was doing. It’s just not like what he just now found out he loves. It’s not like how it is with Charmeine. 

Kyrie takes a deep breath, lying his head on the pillow. Maya follows him from underneath the thick blanket, her head crashing on his chest, which rises and falls with each hard breath. The movie is coming to its climax, just as they had done. He’s not sure what the movie was about. There’s something about dogs and people who live on a farm. It’s not anything Kyrie would pay to see. He prefers old-fashioned 90s movies or inappropriate comedies. He doesn’t know where Maya got the idea that this would be a movie he liked. 

He wraps his arm anxiously over her shoulders, his thumb rubbing the soft of her skin. He’s done a lot of fucked up shit but this has to be one of the worst. It feels like one of the worst. Guilt is a feeling that eats you from the inside out. 

“You know how good you are, right?” Kyrie randomly asks. 

Maya meekly giggles. “Where did that come from?”

“You’re so good. I don’t know how you can be so good,” he says. “You’re good at being a mom, you’re good at being a singer, you’re good at fucking,” he laughs at that last one, so does she. 

“Nobody can take that away from you,” he pulls her closer, staring up at the ceiling. 

She doesn’t say anything, listening to his words and his heartbeat together. 

“You’re so beautiful and I’m…I’m so lucky that I even got to be with someone like you,” Kyrie rambles. “I don’t even know how I got this chance.”

He got this chance because he was trying to “heal her” after getting her heart shitted on by the father of her child. She wasn’t doing her best when they first started talking. Her mind was swindled with thoughts of never finding love if she couldn’t find it with Addy. So when Kyrie came around, talking a big game, treating her like no one ever did, it felt like Kyrie was swooping in and saving her like some sort of Prince Charming-Superhero hybrid. Sometimes the second love can feel almost as bad as the first did. 

“You’re so perfect. I wish I could give you the world.” He pauses, thinking for a moment the words getting caught in his throat. “Nobody really deserves you.”

“Why does this feel like goodbye?” 

Because it is. Something he should’ve said. 

“I just wanted to tell you.”

[rcvana]

BE MY MISTAKE ... KYRIE HAN ! characters. kyrie han, maya wang warnings. suggestive content, briefly sexual content, i believe that all ! word count. 0.891

Kyrie is a complicated man. Some would say he’s impossible to love. He’s dumb, he’s impulsive, and he fucks up with everyone he loves. He makes everything harder for everyone. It’s almost hilarious how he seems to never make the right choices. Almost.

Almost because his choices are those made by assholes. Ones he would classify as mistakes but they keep happening, so even his friends are left wondering if they’re really mistakes or just the fucked up way he was born. 

And he’s sure this is going to be another mistake that he’ll have to excuse around others, as he stands at the doorstep. He knocks on the door of the lofty home. It’s one of the nicest houses Kyrie’s seen up-close in Korea. The door opens up, revealing a girl of shorter stature and thick, chocolate colored hair. 

“Hey,” Maya greets, her eyes their usual sultry low. 

Kyrie leans down and places a brief kiss on her cheek. Maya steps aside, allowing Kyrie to enter. He eyes her up and down, taking in the baby pink loungewear she’s clad in. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” she smiles. 

He feels a little odd, being here. It’s not like he hasn’t been here plenty of times before, laying his feet wherever he pleases and eating up the food she cooked. But things are different now, considering the circumstances. 

The house is empty, Maya’s daughter is with Addy today. Kyrie always admired how Maya never invited anyone over that was anything more than platonic (or a man in general that wasn’t her father), when Kaia was there. She was a good mother, he knew that. It’s something that drew him to her in the first place. He likes a woman who handles her business, he always says. That knows her priorities and has them straight. 

“Are you okay?” Maya asks, taking him by surprise. “You’ve been, like, spacing out since you got here.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Kyrie envelopes her hands in his, staring down into her golden shaded eyes. “I’m more than good, ‘cause I’m here with you.”

She smiles coyly, a flush creeping across her cheeks. 

“I, uh, I have this movie that I liked and thought that you might like,” she says, squeezing his palm. 

“Let’s watch it.”

Of course, naturally, an actual watching of movies only lasted about twenty minutes before the cuddling started feeling more hot than it initially did. Because then hands started moving, and then kissing got involved, and then they succumb to the feelings of sweltering passion and the coming undone that nears rough. That’s how sex always was between Kyrie and Maya. Everything was fast and rough, and it’s not to say it doesn’t feel good. Maya was good at everything she did in the bed. She knew what she was doing. It’s just not like what he just now found out he loves. It’s not like how it is with Charmeine. 

Kyrie takes a deep breath, lying his head on the pillow. Maya follows him from underneath the thick blanket, her head crashing on his chest, which rises and falls with each hard breath. The movie is coming to its climax, just as they had done. He’s not sure what the movie was about. There’s something about dogs and people who live on a farm. It’s not anything Kyrie would pay to see. He prefers old-fashioned 90s movies or inappropriate comedies. He doesn’t know where Maya got the idea that this would be a movie he liked. 

He wraps his arm anxiously over her shoulders, his thumb rubbing the soft of her skin. He’s done a lot of fucked up shit but this has to be one of the worst. It feels like one of the worst. Guilt is a feeling that eats you from the inside out. 

“You know how good you are, right?” Kyrie randomly asks. 

Maya meekly giggles. “Where did that come from?”

“You’re so good. I don’t know how you can be so good,” he says. “You’re good at being a mom, you’re good at being a singer, you’re good at fucking,” he laughs at that last one, so does she. 

“Nobody can take that away from you,” he pulls her closer, staring up at the ceiling. 

She doesn’t say anything, listening to his words and his heartbeat together. 

“You’re so beautiful and I’m…I’m so lucky that I even got to be with someone like you,” Kyrie rambles. “I don’t even know how I got this chance.”

He got this chance because he was trying to “heal her” after getting her heart shitted on by the father of her child. She wasn’t doing her best when they first started talking. Her mind was swindled with thoughts of never finding love if she couldn’t find it with Addy. So when Kyrie came around, talking a big game, treating her like no one ever did, it felt like Kyrie was swooping in and saving her like some sort of Prince Charming-Superhero hybrid. Sometimes the second love can feel almost as bad as the first did. 

“You’re so perfect. I wish I could give you the world.” He pauses, thinking for a moment the words getting caught in his throat. “Nobody really deserves you.”

“Why does this feel like goodbye?” 

Because it is. Something he should’ve said. 

“I just wanted to tell you.”

[dazzlingkai]

230319 – KAI x ROVER

[rcvana]

  ꙰  𓈒 ˙ 𓍼 RAVANA’S DISCOGRAPHY : A DEEP DIVE

tw. flashing lights, photosensitive epilepsy triggers

RAVANA debuted in 2013 under HONEYMOON AVENUE with the hit single ROCK ME. The boy band went onto become the first and only successful artist under the label aside from the collaboration group TROUVAILLE (2016) to which they ultimately lost the rights to following a lawsuit in 2018. Ravana was met with what seemed like instantaneous success, angsty teenagers eating up the song like hot cakes. Honeymoon was completely shocked regarding their reception, genuinely not expecting them to take off as soon as they did—or take off at all. Ravana and their debut in it’s entirety was a shot in the dark. While all of the boys worked on the song, ICHIRO and producer ADDY were largely at work in the studio.

In 2014, Ravana released a major milestone within their early career, their first mini album CHRYSALIS, with the title track CAN WE DANCE? that was considered a chart monster at its prime. The album also featured promoted and popular tracks like NOBODY COMPARES and THEY DON’T KNOW. The tracks were even bigger than their debut and could be heard any and everywhere: on commercials, movies, YouTube videos, at the mall, the social media’s of youth all over, everywhere. Classified as pop perfection amongst fans, this era introduced the concept of the FRONT BOY. In Ravana, depending on the era, the lead would alternate between members, or as the fans nicknamed it: THE FRONT BOY. During Chrysalis, Kyrie was the front boy, which proved to be a smart move when his popularity skyrocketed among the fandom. He was easily the most biased member. Fans seemed to love him, favoring his mysterious persona, considering virtually nothing about his pre-debut days was publicized or talked about like his bandmates. The music video also gained extra attention when NATALIA HWANG fresh off of the set of her teen film BEACH HOUSE was casted as the love interest. With her following, she only further popularized the band’s video. Although, shipping theories went wild alongside this. This was also the era that sparked an onslaught of recognition from TUMBLR, the boys even being advertised by viewers as Tumblr Icons. The album sits at over 1 MILLION SALES.

FRONT BOY: KYRIE

Riding off of the success of their previous release, Ravana came out with the single CONFIDENT in 2014. Confident was heavily praised for it’s slick, pop-r&b sound, feeding into the image already surrounding them. RAVE’S were huge fans of their new sound, raving (no pun intended) about it’s darker tones and blush-inducing lyrics. Earning Front Boy for a second era in a row, Kyrie began to pick up his pen and get to work on Confident. He both wrote and produced Confident, and you could tell by how different the sound was compared to distributions prior.

FRONT BOY: KYRIE

In 2015, Ravana released the Extended Play DREAM DAZE. Of course, Dream Daze went onto be an utter success, selling over 2MILLION units in total. The era of Dream Daze had two Front Boy’s and was generally lead by Ichiro in PERFECT and Kyrie in SOMEBODY TO YOU. The music video for Somebody to You had a special appearance from POISON’S HAYOON, which of course sparked dating rumors and shippers to go wild. Some shippers having insufferable debates about who was the better ship: Natalia and Kyrie, Hayoon and Kyrie, or Eunki and Jamie. There were even a slew of in-group shippers, pitting pairs like Eunki and Jamie and Ichiro and Kyrie (if they weren’t being shipped together, they were being pit against each other) against one another. Aside from these odd antics, the band went onto have a commercial success on their hands, only furthering their path.

FRONT BOY: ICHIRO / KYRIE

2016 came their biggest release yet, with the release of their first full-length album OUT OF TIME. Preceding the albums release, a pre-release single was put out by the title of TREAT YOU BETTER, which was later featured as a track on the work. Treat You Better sent fans into an orbit, constantly tweeting about how excited they are for D-DAY, even starting the semi-viral trend: EVERYBODY KNOWS WHERE THEY WERE WHEN OUT OF TIME DROPPED, followed by either a funny picture of their current situation while they stalk the release of the album, or a chance to take a cute selfie directed at Ravana, desperately hoping for a Y/N moment.

Speaking of Y/N moments, this era sparked the infamous ever-controversial recurring occasion of KIMOON flirting with fans. He regularly would call them pretty during fan-meeting events, comment on pictures, and talk to them almost as if they were his girlfriends or partner. There were mixed opinions about this.

When Out of Time finally dropped, you bet the internet probably broke for the first few hours. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER is probably still their most popular song to date racking in over 500 MILLION VIEWS. The track included a feature from TROUVAILLE’S BRIAR, who had just debuted not too long before the collaboration. If the tracks on Chrysalis were everywhere, then the tracks on Out of Time were like the plague. I Know What You Did Last Summer constantly topped charts alongside the side tracks like WILDFIRE and APOCALYPSE. Out of Time went onto sell the most units compared to all other releases, sitting at over 7 MILLION SALES.

FRONT BOY: N/A ... KYRIE

Ravana took MUSICAL.LY by storm in 2017 with the single PERSONAL. The music video featured an appearance from WITH LOVE!’S ICHIKA as the love interest. While the song was a virtual hit, the boys weren’t too fond of its generic sound. KYRIE never went a moment without mentioning his disdain for the song and actually protested against its release. However, they redeemed themselves in the summer, coming back with the Extended Play PASSIONFRUIT. The song was mostly written and produced by Kyrie and Kimoon. This came with another trend created by fans, naming summer a “PASSIONFRUIT SUMMER.”

FRONT BOY: EUNKI / KIMOON

Ravana geared up with their first mini album in 2018 by the title NO CALLER ID. This year brought on a fan favorite era for the quintet. Kyrie wrote and produced majority of the album and stated that all releases this year were some of his favorites for the band. FRIENDS performed incredibly well on charts and with the public. No Caller ID is still regarded as one of their best albums musically and statistically. Their second release came in the later part of 2018 with the mini album POLARIZED. This was also a Kyrie-written album, also a fan-favorite album. SWIM and Friends were constantly battling for top 5 spots on the charts.

FRONT BOY: KYRIE

2019 came the release of the single DOUBLE BACK. The song was excessively popular with the masses, peaking at #1 on charts and garnering a plethora of streams. Double Back even had a viral dance trend on TIKTOK. This song was a very collaborative piece of work, the studio process being their favorite session ever. They filmed the recording process and showed that this era was probably the most fun they’d had working on a project even down to the music video. Although, around this era the boys ventured into solo activities, working on projects of their own more-so than group promotions. This lead to nearly two years of musical silence from the band as a whole.

FRONT BOY: KYRIE

After their unofficial musical hiatus as a band, Ravana came back in 2021 with the single NOBODY BUT YOU FT. CHARMEINE. The collaboration was a huge deal with the public, considering PINKETTES’ Charmeine was already embroiled in dating rumors with KYRIE. The fact that Kyrie wrote the lyrics for the song only fueled the rumors, alongside the Instagram lives they did together and other questionable interactions that they swore were just platonic and delusional fans warding off the theory that their fave could possibly be attracted to a pretty girl that isn’t them. Aside from this, the single was a smashing success, in spite of it’s minimal official promotion.

FRONT BOY: KYRIE / KIMOON

[usermavka]

🎬 All About Lily Chou-Chou 2001, dir. Shunji Iwai

[rylandsgrace]

I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

10 Things I Hate About You (1999) dir. Gil Junger 

[zegalba]

Nintendo Game Boy Color Magazine Ad (2001) Dazed & Confused Magazine, Issue 77

[lilllium]

—Shane Koyczan, from Remember How We Forgot

[redflavor]

EXO Pathcode #SUHO, 2015 dir. VM Project

[pink-ttes]

ℐׅ 핑크 ─ ENCHANTED : A CHARMEINE YU STORY

“I’LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW,

I WAS ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU.”

CHARACTERS. charmeine yu, kyrie han, bae yoona, chantana kanarot

WARNINGS. marijuana consumption, very brief mention of sex, brief mention of kidnapping anxiety, i believe that’s all !

WORD COUNT. 4.3K

“I don’t know, he just keeps fucking off, and I want to settle down one day but I don’t know if he’s ever gonna stop,” Tana chatters, licking her vanilla ice cream cone.

The sun, sitting prettily in the faintly darkening sky, beats down on their backs, the sound of the waves crashing against the sand serving as background noise. It’s a hot summer evening, one that the majority of the company had spent at a beach party thrown by Hayden.

“And he’s gonna keep doing it because you allow it,” Yoona pragmatically says, scooping up ice cream from the waffle bowl and stuffing it into her mouth.

Tana’s nose crinkled listening to the older girl. She knew she was right but she was never one to listen, at least after the first, second, or twentieth warning. She was a person who asked for advice on situations, disregarded the advice and did the opposite of what she was advised, realized that things went wrong because she didn’t listen and still did the same thing again, just hoping that the outcome might come out different the next time. News flash, it never did.

“I think you just need to drop him, he’s a weirdo,” Charmeine interposes, to which Yoona nods in agreement.

Tana dismisses her, opting to pretend she didn’t hear her and asks a differing question. “Can I ask you guys something? And don’t think I’m, like, weird or anything.”

“Go on,” Yoona encourages, Charmeine turning to look at Tana anticipatingly.

“I know she’s your cousin and all,” she begins, shifting her eyes to Charmeine, “but do you think that Briar would sleep with him?”

Charmeine nearly chokes on her ice cream sandwich, letting out an obnoxious chortle. She nods her head aggressively, “of course she would.”

Yoona purses her lips, her eyes widening with amusement.

“But she’s my best friend and this is the first guy I’ve ever taken seriously,” Tana pouts, her brows furrowing.

“She’s my cousin and she fucked my ex before,” Charmeine casually opposes. “I don’t know why you’re acting brand new, Briar’s been like this.”

A low “damn” is all that Yoona can let out as she listens to the conversation before her.

“Wait, so do you think that she fucked my boyfriends before?” Tana asks, a newfound panic settling in her expression.

Charmeine and Yoona spare each other knowing glances, the conversation suddenly falling into an awkward silence. Charmeine looks away from the two, not wanting to give an unwanted answer to the lingering question before she narrows her eyes at a certain event playing out in front of her.

“No, seriously—” Tana picks up the topic once more, her tone gaining some edge to it but she doesn’t get to raise her concern fully.

“Holy shit,” Charmeine cuts the girl off.

“What?” Tana asks, turning to look at whatever caught Charmeine’s attention. Her eyes fall on three boys, two standing shirtless, one clad in a black tank top.

“Three-man?” Charmeine asks, a string of laughter from all of them following after.

Her eyes lock onto the one on the end, his skin radiant as the evening sun twinkles over his toned body. She’s seen him before, just never looking this good. She doesn’t know if it’s the summer haze taking over her mind, the heat causing her to think irrationally, or if this guy she’d never talked to and just seen around the bend every now and then was just underratedly hot.

Charmeine finally brings her attention back to the other two.

“Damn, they do look good,” Yoona eyes them, specifically checking out the tallest one whose long hair is perfectly brushed into place.

Tana gnashes her teeth, seemingly to bite back temptation before letting out a breath and rolling out her tense shoulders. “Go shoot your shot, girl,” she rouses.

She looks back at him, but unbeknownst to her, he’d been staring her down as soon as she turned away from him the first time. Their eyes meet and she brightens almost immediately. His lips curl into a tantalizing grin. He waves his fingers as if gesturing for her to advance to him.

Charmeine thinks on it for a moment, eyeing the sand beneath her feet before looking back at him. She stands up, making her way over to where he and his friends stood. They all look her up and down as she approaches, standing there as if she was more than certain that she belonged there.

“I noticed you staring at me,” Charmeine divulged, “you weren’t hiding it very well.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he says, his sly smile betraying his words. He sends a look to his friends, signaling for them to allow him some privacy and once they finally pick up on it, they oblige, leaving the two alone.

He outstretches his hand, peering at her hand. “Kyrie,” he introduces.

“I know,” she takes his hand, shaking it, but keeping it there for a moment, savoring the feeling of his baby soft palm.

She doesn’t introduce herself because she knows he knows who she is. She often goes through events without having to introduce herself, a quality of life she’s grateful for. It saves for the trouble of awkward small talk and the ever-dreaded talking stage.

“I just happened to notice you scoping me out, too,” Kyrie shoots back, a flirty lilt in his tone.

She scoffs playfully, “I was looking at the sun, you were just in the way.”

“The sun’s right there,” he chuckles, pointing behind her. She turns around as though she hadn’t realized the sun had been placed in that spot in the sky for as long as they’d been here.

Kyrie pores over at Charmeine through low eyes, taking in the girl's frame, devouring her through mere looks. His carnal gaze doesn’t fall unnoticed by Charmeine. She can feel the fluttering in her stomach, tickling her from the inside. It’s been awhile since a boy has made her feel like that.

There’s a small breeze that blows Kyrie’s fragrance past her face, a scent mixed of sage, citrus, and weed.

“But you got the prettiest little smile,” he admires.

It makes her smile even harder on instinct, her cheeks glowing a faded tint of pink as she stares up and into his rich eyes. “So I’ve been told.”

He laughs at her playful cockiness.

“This music’s kinda loud, how about we get some privacy?” He suggests. The music isn’t loud at all. Sure, you might have to go up a few octaves to hear certain sentences, but it’s actually perfectly volumed, fueling the ambience with the trap-r&b songs playing over the stereo, the DJ proving to be more-than-efficient to the guests attending the party. Charmeine thinks that she should steal Hayden’s DJ for her next party.

“Sure,” Charmeine nods, taking his hand as he leads her through the crowd. She quickly gives Tana and Yoona, who were sitting in their same spot in the sand, a small jig of jubilance. They laugh, sending her two thumbs up.

They walk around to the back of Hayden’s vacation home. The sound of the ocean is soothing as they take their short walk, which is filled by banter and flirty remarks all the way up until they make it to their destination. In that little time, she’s learned his favorite artists, the way he views his friends, and the things he prefers to do at parties like these—all things needed to know how a person interacts with the world. Charmeine prided herself in being a very perceptive human being.

He leans against the fence, right next to a patio-like table and bench, surrounding the spacious home. “‘You smoke?”

“A little.”

Kyrie reaches into the pocket of his swim trunks, pulling out a few materials and sitting them down on the table she takes a seat at. “You know how to roll?”

Charmeine coyly purses her lips, sheepishly shaking her head, “no.”

He chuckles at her mannerisms. “You’re cute when you get shy like that.”

She playfully flicks her wrist at him, instantly heartening at his compliment. She’s always getting compliments but when they come from him, it feels more invigorating.

“I can show you, if you want,” he offers.

She nods enthusiastically and he smiles back at her before sitting across from her at the table. He lays the blunt wrapper and the weed out in front of him, focusing on the joint.

A cold sensation drips down her wrist, suddenly making her all too aware of the melting ice cream sandwich she had totally forgotten about. She gasps at the sticky feeling, squirming uncomfortably, her face contorted in disgust. She takes a bite of the cool treat, chewing it carelessly.

Kyrie takes a swift look up at her eating, before making a kittenish noise of disappointment. “Aww, your sandwich melted,” he frowns, a faux pout coming into play.

“I know,” Charmeine returns the gesture, dragging out the syllables and replicating his pout.

“Gimme a bite?” Kyrie supplicates.

She hums, bringing the sandwich to his lips, to which he leans forward a little and takes a bite out of the chocolate-y delight. When some of its vanilla insides drip down Charmeine’s finger and wrist, he maneuvers his tongue to lick up the ice cream, causing her to squirm at the ticklish feeling. He traces past the front of her wrist all the way back to the tips of her fingers and nibbles down gently.

“You bit me!” She gasps dramatically, to which he just laughs as he gets adjusted in his seat again, shifting attention back to the matter at hand. “Do you bite all your girls like that?”

“What do you mean all my girls?” Kyrie asks, his face twisting up in disapproval.

“You don’t have to lie to me, I know what type of boy you are mister-man,” she quickly replies.

“And what type of boy is that?” He scoffs.

Charmeine watches his agile fingers sprinkling weed in the wrapper, rolling it up with ease. He licks the sides, sealing it up. The joint is wrapped neatly, its size is a little thick but still perfect nonetheless. She’s impressed. She’s never seen such a perfectly rolled blunt, or someone roll it so effortlessly. His rolling skills are like a talent to her.

“You’re the type who doesn’t stay single for long…you hop from girl to girl. I know you have hoes,” Charmeine states in a matter-of-fact tone, her eyes switching from watching the blunt to his face.

“Wow, I don’t like to be perceived,” he says, his voice oddly relaxed. Charmeine can tell that he’s already been smoking, the way his words come out slowly, a mellow tone to every thing he says. “And I’m completely single.”

She hums, doubting him entirely.

“While you’re grilling me, I bet you got a whole roster,” Kyrie jokes.

“Uh-uh,” Charmeine quickly denies, even though what he’s saying is partially true. “I’m a free agent!”

He laughs at her, burning the joint with a lighter. “A free agent, huh?”

She nods proudly.

“So you don’t have a boyfriend, no side hoes—none of that?” He asks.

She shakes her head in refutation. He shows off the exemplary manufactured blunt, rotating it so that Charmeine can get a good look. She nods at him in awe, giving small jocular applause.

“You look too good,” Kyrie replies, holding the blunt to Charmeine lips, to which she obliges, opening her mouth and letting him sit the blunt in her mouth gently. He lights it up for her with his lighter, the warmth from the fire on the other end tickling the bottom half of her face. It’s an oddly comfortable warmth. She takes a pull, longer than usual. She begins to cough, feeling the smoke in her throat and chest, watching it trickle through her nose.

“Lightweight,” he teases with a snort, causing her to shoot a jesterful scowl his way.

After she catches her breath from her coughing fit, she affirms, “I’m single by choice.”

“Oh, really?” The corners of his mouth turned up, amused.

“These…these are little boys,” she says, moving her hands in a circle as she speaks, presumably gesturing to men as a collective.

He takes a long pull of the blunt, eyes narrowing as the smoke seeps leisurely through his nose. “I’m not a little boy.”

“You gotta prove to me that you’re not a little boy,” she quips. “A lot of little boys say they aren’t but they’re little ass boys.”

“That’s not me,” he responds, passing the joint back to her.

“Why do you care so much anyway, ‘you wanna be my man?” She chaffs.

“If you let me,” Kyrie says, catching Charmeine off guard. She pauses for a moment, holding the smoke in her cheeks. He lets the joke hang in the air before laughing at her countenance, “just yanking your chain.”

Charmeine lets the smoke out, coughing softly, a stupefied expression washing over her face, her high settling in quicker than his did.

“Why are you?” She questions.

“Why am I…?”

She laughs at herself. “Why are you single? You asked me, I’m asking you.”

“I didn’t ask, I just said you look too good to be single,” Kyrie clarifies, a chortle slipping through.

“But things happen—I fuck up from time to time.”

“Everybody fucks up from time to time,” she voices.

“Yeah, but I fuck up big time,” Kyrie admits, his sedate voice falling dulcet on her ears. “I don’t wanna fuck up with a girl that’s perfect for me. I could find something totally perfect for me and fuck it up because that’s—that’s what I do.”

Charmeine hums, listening to him speak.

“No amount of fuck-ups can push away your soulmate,” is all the slightly dopey girl says.

“You believe in soulmates?” Kyrie queries.

Charmeine just nods, watching him hit the blunt again. There’s something so alluring about the way he looks when he’s in such a partially dazed and genial state. And she doesn’t know if it’s the effects of the weed on her body but it feels like flowers are blooming in her stomach the longer she sits there with him.

A few puffs and a few roll-ups later, Charmeine found herself in Hayden’s master bathroom, her back pushed up against the countertop. Kyrie’s hands are roaming her body as he lifts her up and sits her on the counter. She wraps her legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his tongue sweeping past her lips with utmost desire. Her hands threaded through his fluffy hair, fingers massaging his scalp.

Passion on impulse wasn’t something that Charmeine was used to. She was accustomed to doing things at the right moment, after a long time, in a maybe-kind-of-sort-of fashion.

Kyrie presses kisses onto her lips that trail to her cheeks and down her jawline to her neck. He pays extra close attention there, sprinkling pecks of affection all over. His teeth tug at the skin, causing her to squirm with a giggle, her grip tightening just the slightest at his hair. He laughs along with her, but his chuckles are buried into the deep of her neck, the vibrations tickling her. It’s like he’s hungry for every piece of her, going all in yet savoring every movement.

His digits find their way to the tie of her orange bathing suit top, working at the material before hands are gently placed on his shoulders. He stops in his tracks, stepping back just slightly to get a clear of her face, picking up on her signal.

“Nuh-Uh,” Charmeine says, her mouth twisting as they stare at each other. “I don’t have sex with guys I just met.”

Kyrie flashes a lopsided smile her way.

“I shouldn’t even have kissed you,” she taunts, tapping on his chest after every word.

“Not even a kiss?” Kyrie asks, astonished.

“Kissing is way more intimate than fucking,” Charmeine reasons. Kyrie looks at her, perplexed at the idea of kissing being more intimate than having sex. He imagined having sex was the most intimate thing you could probably do with a woman. He imagined that a girl would be more mad that you fucked another girl than just kiss another.

“Okay,” he mutters, a little embarrassed at having gotten worked up so quickly. But in his defense, he’s had sex with girls on first meet more times than he’d care to remember. Though that fact doesn’t really help his case much, anyway.

He tightens the knot in her swimsuit, returning it to its original state of security.

“But…” she begins, making Kyrie’s ears perk up. “I’m hungry now.”

“Me too,” he agrees with a woozy chuckle. She returns the same stupefied laugh before putting her hand out for him to take it and help her down. He does just that, guiding her to the wooden floor. “There’s a gas station not too far from here.”

“But how are we going to get there?” Charmeine dizzily asks.

“How the fuck do you think I got here?” Kyrie deadpans. She gazes at him, waiting for an answer. “A car?” He laughs boisterously.

“I was gonna say that,” she playfully punches his arm.

He takes hold of her hand again, leading her through the house and to the front door. They keep venturing through the room and out the door, to where they spot a white Ferrari parked in its respective position. Charmeine doesn’t really like low cars, she likes to ride in big cars where she can look over everyone on the road. It’s not like she could drive either, anyway, considering she doesn’t have her license yet. She’s failed her test around three times now—and counting. Though the exterior isn’t her preference, she’s impressed by how clean its interior is.

She’s surprised that he could even keep it so spotless, the leather seating in perfect condition. The smell matches the mien, replicating Kyrie’s scent.

They get in the car, Kyrie starting it up and checking everything out before he starts driving. He fixes his rear view and lets down the windows of the car slightly, then nodding once everything’s to his liking. His last step is to turn on the radio, connecting his phone to the auxiliary cord and playing his playlist on shuffle. His taste in music is mostly hip-hop with the ever-so-often touch of soft R&B tunes in the mix.

Her eyes go straight to a pack of Backwoods lying in the glove compartment, sticking out partially. Kyrie seems to smoke a lot, is what she would say if she weren’t as high as she was already. Stupidly enough, she picks up the brand new pack and opens it up, pulling out the wrappers as he pulls off.

“You want some more?” He asks, shocked.

“Yeah, why? You can’t handle it?” She joshes.

“Can you?” He responds.

Charmeine ignores his words, only taking them as a challenge. She sits the wrapper in her lap, reaching in his pocket retrieving another bag of weed.

The music is blaring as he drives, rather recklessly might she add. Well, she would’ve added it had she been on her P’s and Q’s. He had to be breaking some kind of speed limit laws with how speedy he was going. His drifts were impressively heedless, whipping and weaving effortlessly. Some turns felt like she was on a rollercoaster, her heart dropping down into her stomach with every careless motion. Aside from the sound of the wind passing them by, his singing along to the songs serves as background noise for her.

She packs the paper, her tongue sticking out, her usual face of concentration. She then loosely rolls it up, weed falling out from the sides. She burns it up with his lighter, accidentally burning the tip of her finger in the process. Once she licks it up and “seals” it, she holds it up in the light.

“Look!” She says, proud.

He briefly looks over to her, examining the blunt before bursting into laughter. “What the fuck is that?”

“A perfectly rolled blunt!”

“That is the ugliest fucking blunt I ever fucking seen,” he ridicules, staring at the thick joint, which is practically waiting to fall apart.

She laughs with him, jokingly slapping his arm. She imprudently smokes the rinky-dink joint, choking on it as the insides fall out all over lap. Charmeine never thought she would be the one littering the interior of a neat Ferrari but here she is, fucking up his seats. She puts it up to his mouth next, watching him take yet another impossibly long pull.

When Kyrie said that the convenience store was “not too far,” his sense of time must’ve been incredibly warped. Charmeine was lost on why a house was so completely out of the way from every suitable average location in California. After nearly thirty minutes, the two arrive outside of the gas station. It probably would’ve taken more time had he been abiding by road laws.

Kyrie reaches into his glove compartment and pulls out two black face masks, handing her one before giving her his hoodie from the backseat of his car. She takes both, both of them putting on the masks and exiting the car.

The store is relatively empty aside from the very few stragglers who presumably stumbled in on a drunken night of partying, hungry for something cheap and fast.

“Go crazy,” he advises, instructing her to pick out the snacks she wants. She doesn’t take much time to get started, either, loading Kyrie’s arms with a variety of ice creams, chips, cookies, and candy bars.

Eventually, after watching her run around the star like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with awe, hearts practically living in them, they approach the guy at the register. Kyrie pays for all of the snacks, something that Charmeine takes note of.

They return to the car, unloading the snacks and digging in. The car is filled with chewing and collective agreements on how ridiculously good the junk food they’re consuming tastes through hums and nods. That is, until their moment is ruined when Charmeine’s phone rings.

She lets it ring for a few moments before finally picking it up and reading the contact name: Yoona. Her eyes then wander to the top corner of the phone, noticing the time which read a shocking 3:45AM. She covers her mouth with a gasp, “did you know it’s almost 4AM?”

“Wow, really?” He asks, just as shocked as she is, completely having lost track of time.

She accepts the call, Yoona’s face appearing in the corner.

“Charmeine, where the hell are you?” Yoona queries.

“I’m just…getting food,” she answers, rather unnecessarily suspicious.

“It’s 3 in the fucking morning, I don’t want you out that late! Do you know what happens to girls at that time of night?” She grills. Yoona’s always on a tangent about what happens to girls in the dark hours. She sends the girls articles about missing girls, often followed by the phrase: “See what I told you?” She’s always been the worrywart, constantly worried for their safety. They love her for it, but it makes them never tell her when they’re going out because then it’ll start. They say it kind of kills the fun of living but they know she only does it because she cares.

“Who are you with?” Yoona asks.

“I’m with Kyrie,” Charmeine tells.

“Kylie? Who the fuck is Kylie?” She panics.

Charmeine and Kyrie both burst into laughter, listening to the older girl. “No, I said—” before she can correct her, she’s interrupted by a rumbling Yoona.

“I don’t care, just tell Kylie to bring you home!” She splutters before hanging up.

The two of them look at each other, faces looking like they just bit into a sour lemon as they try to stifle their laughter but fail miserably, tears leaguing in their eyes.

“Okay, let’s get you home before she beats my ass,” Kyrie says, starting up the car. “Where are you staying?”

Charmeine ponders for a moment, trying to recollect her thoughts before plainly shrugging. “You don’t know where you’re staying?”

“No…I can’t remember,” she responds innocently.

“Damn,” he says under his breath. “It’s either you stay at my place or you ask her.”

“I wanna come with you,” she whines. It instantly brings a smile to his face. He looks at her as she lies back in the seat, her eyes low and her high obviously coming down just a bit after the hours passing. She looks like she could use some sleep, but to him she’s cute when she’s tired.

“I know, but I don’t want her to be worried. I want you to come with me too,” Kyrie says softly.

She sighs in defeat, “fine.”

Charmeine sits up, her fingers taking to massage her temples, her unoccupied hand tapping through her phone. She clicks on Yoona’s contact, checking her location. She holds up the phone to Kyrie’s face, showing him what hotel they’re staying at.

He squints reading it before nodding and pulling out of the driveway.

Once they finally arrive outside of the hotel, he walks her to her room—which she hadn’t fully remembered the number of, so they spent a few moments trying her keycard on doors starting with 31 until they found the right one.

“You know I never got your number, right?” Kyrie notes, whipping out his phone.

“Oh, right,” Charmeine remembers, putting her number in and saving the contact. “I had fun with you tonight.”

Kyrie beams at that, unable to control his wide grin. “Me too. You’re a cool girl.”

“So I’ve been told,” she quips, he laughs. Something they’ve grown accustomed to tonight.

“Goodnight,” he leans down and plants a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Goodnight, Kyrie.”

[fatenumberfor]

Jung Jinhyeong for Foot Locker Korea

[smittenskitten]

Your umbrella is so small, how will the three of us fit? That’s right. Is it? It’s fine if we all go together ☔

[armenes]

· kento yamazaki : icons.

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