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Public Relations

Synopsis: The SweetHeart of Seoul discovers that the Bad Boy of Busan isn’t that bad after all. Or, you really hate what your job entails sometimes. Superhero AU inspired by The Boys, BNHA, and idol culture.

Warning: alcohol, fighting

Word Count: 7.9k

Pairing: fem!superhero!reader x superhero!IN

Jihyo starts briefing you about this weekend’s events before you’ve had your daily dose of caffeine, so you think you’re having auditory hallucinations when she informs you of your upcoming team-up with Flashfire.

“The Bad Boy of Busan?” you interrupt. “That Flashfire?”

“Is there another one I don’t know about?” she impatiently says. Looks like she hasn’t had any coffee either. Or maybe way too much, considering that the Prince of Shadows, face of the SeoulHero Company, landed in the hospital last night after what was supposed to be a simple confrontation with a group of bank robbers. “Yes, him. Any other questions before I move on to your scheduled lunch with him today?”

It’s the wrong answer, but you ask, “Why?”

“He’s on loan to us while Prince’s out, which means all your team-ups and appearances with Prince are now with him, including the launch party for Hero Face over the weekend. And don’t you dare try getting out of it again. Nayeon told me all about your little stunt last week.”

Apparently, Nayeon had access to all of your family’s genealogy and international death records, and thus, your distant relative’s funeral was exposed as fake. But to be fair, attending a launch party for SeoulHero’s new makeup line sounds incredibly counterproductive as a supposed superhero.

“Why couldn’t he have picked a better time to get hurt?” Jihyo continues. “The face of SeoulHero doesn’t show up for Hero Face? Now half of our faces are from Busan Defenders. This whole launch was designed around you two, and he just had to ruin it. Freaking face, heart, and soul.”

Face, heart, and soul. Prince, you, and Seoul.

Ever since SeoulHero hired you, it has always been made clear that you are Heart, the good girl, the SweetHeart of Seoul, the Nations’ Heartbeat, and whatever other ridiculous nicknames the media has created for you. You are the wholesome hero, everyone’s favorite.

Perfect, flawless Heart.

“What about Tigerlily and Dandy?” you suggest. “How about they be the main guests instead of me? It’ll be good for their ratings too.”

Jihyo looks like she’s ready to throttle you. In an eerily calm voice, she says, “This is not about them. This is about the company. Look, I know you mean well, but contracts are contracts. You are going to the party, and you are going with Flashfire. Any other questions?”

You shake your head. An intern comes into the conference room with a cardboard holder full of coffees and places two down on the table between you and Jihyo. He whispers an apology, receiving a saccharine smile from Jihyo and a terse one from you.

The drink is cold.

You take it with you to your scheduled lunch with Flashfire. You’ve seen him create blazing infernos before on TV; heating up some coffee should be nothing.

Lunch is in the cozy café inside of SeoulHero headquarters, a surprise considering that any and all sightings you share with another hero, especially if they’re a young man, garners an outrageous amount of publicity. But for some reason, Jihyo wants to keep this business meeting under wraps. She even made you change out of your costume into civilian clothes for the occasion.

The café is strangely empty, with only two customers inside. You wouldn’t put it past Jihyo to have arranged for some fancy lunch catering so the team-up can truly be a surprise. She’s not the only leaker in the company.

You’ve nestled yourself in your favorite corner booth, surrounded by birch planters and an abundance of ivy trailing from the hanging pots. The glass windows are covered with opaque white curtains, shielding you from prying eyes walking through the third floor. However, the best part has to be its close proximity to the kitchen. The world-class pastry chef lets you try their new desserts before anyone else, and they’re so much better than those little cakes you’re forced to promote.

This is your little oasis.

You idly flip through the menu while waiting for Flashfire to arrive. You only know him through news reports and the trending hashtags on social media, and you’re certain he only knows you that way as well. Jihyo makes sure you go viral every time you walk out of a fight unscathed.

Which means just about every time you apprehend a villain.

While Flashfire has his flames and Prince his shadows, you have rapid regeneration. Your wounds stitch together in the blink of an eye, leaving only artfully messy hair and splotches of dirt as evidence of your battle. It makes for great pictures.

A soft thud across from you makes you glance up from the pictures of artisan pizza. A pair of dark sunglasses stare back at you. The embroidered cartoon dinosaur on the accompanying baseball cap waves hello. If you didn’t know that you were meeting the Bad Boy of Busan of today, you would have never thought that he wore oversized argyle sweaters. Judging by his hero costume, he seems more like a tight black shirt guy. Though if you’re judging by hero costumes, you suppose you seem more like a frills and flounce skirts type of girl rather than hoodies and sweats.

“Hi,” you say after a moment, holding out your hand. You don’t bother with your real name since this is a business meeting after all. “I’m Heart. Nice to meet you.”

“Flashfire. Hello, Heart. So,” he says after he’s finished shaking your hand, “you’re the Nation’s Heartbeat. The next IU.”

“No, I’m just Heart,” you quickly say. You’re not trying to be modest either. IU, nicknamed the Nation’s Hero and the Hero’s Hero, is exactly who the company is setting you up to be, and while you adore her and admire her, you don’t want to live in her shadow forever. The comparisons started the moment you were unveiled.

“A girl with healing powers and a smile like that? You’re going to have the whole world wrapped around your finger,” said everyone at the company. “You’re our IU,” didn’t need to be explicitly stated.

“So, Seoul,” you abruptly say. “How familiar are you with the city? Have you been here before?”

“I came here a few times for a mission last year, and I did my hero internship here, so I know this place pretty well. Anything else?”

You don’t even know why Jihyo scheduled this lunch. “Can you heat this up for me?” you ask, pushing the cold coffee towards him.

“I make fire. I’m not a microwave.”

That feels more like what you expected. Nevertheless, he ignites a small flame on the palm of his hand and holds the environmentally-conscious cup above it, being careful not to set fire to the paper. You watch with fascination as he warms the drink all over. Curls of steam begin to rise from the small opening at the top.

With a satisfied look, he sets your coffee in front of you. “Can I see your healing in real time then?”

“It’s only fair.” You roll up your hoodie sleeve and present him with your bare wrist. “Go and burn me.”

When his hand clasps around your wrist, you note that they’re strangely colder than they were when he shook your hand. However, that thought fades into nothingness. The sun has crash landed onto your arm.

When Flashfire draws his hand back, your charred muscle and scalded skin immediately begin to knit itself back together. The pain is blinding, and lava pools of heat gather at where scar tissue would be. Rapid regeneration always hurts more than actually getting injured.

Flashfire’s fingers ghost over your newly smooth skin. “No scars? Wow.”

White stars flicker behind your eyes as you yank your sleeve down. “A fourth degree burn is not comparable to heating up a drink.”

“Sorry,” he says, and he does sound apologetic. “I didn’t realize how hot that was.”

“By the looks of it, the team-up mission is going to be easy,” you reply. The pain has subsided, but you can still feel the prickle of fire. “Did your company tell you about it?”

Team-ups are just another PR stunt. The companies, with their vast network of spies, receive notice of future crimes and send their heroes to the right spot at the right time. You haven’t come across any manufactured crimes yet, but with the way SeoulHero’s PR team likes to operate…

But the one this weekend is real: a bank heist in relation to the one Prince was supposed to have stopped. Evidently, the thieves got away when he was left with half of his brain on the floor.

Flashfire nods. “Yeah.”

Jihyo really wants to keep you busy from doing actual superhero things, it appears. Patrolling the block again isn’t all that exciting, but it’s something productive at least. What even is the point of this meeting? “Well, since there’s nothing left to discuss, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You throw your hood over your head and are about to get up when Flashfire holds up the cream-colored menu. “You don’t want to eat lunch? I’ll pay.”

The prospect of the café’s spicy chicken sandwich makes you hesitate, but you shake your head. “I should get going. The streets aren’t going to patrol themselves.”

“The SweetHeart of Seoul indeed,” he teases as he flips open the menu, shaking his head in mock amusement. “Don’t forget your coffee.”

You can still hear him chuckling to himself when you leave. Your face is hot, but it has nothing to do with your powers.

SweetHeart of Seoul.

Why did that have to be your nickname?

The bank heist is set to occur at 4:45 on a Saturday morning, which means you are in your hero costume by 4:30 and at the intersection by 4:40. The bank alarms have already gone off, and you’re just waiting for the robbers to come storming out. Squad cars have blocked off the streets in preparation, but two news vans are conveniently parked at the department store parking lot. Several more reporters from SeoulHero are waiting in stores, and you know Jihyo has sent an intern to record phone footage from an apartment building landing. Meanwhile, Flashfire is waiting in an alleyway somewhere.

Long ago, before you knew about the need for footage, you strolled right into a jewelry store and stopped the thieves before they were able to take all the diamond rings they desired. You handcuffed them. The police came and took them away. The company scolded you for not allowing the camera crew to capture anything and put you on probation for two weeks.

So now you obediently stand outside with perfect hair and makeup, waiting for the perfect action shots.

It’s all so contrived, but the media eats it up. Jihyo gets hashtags trending, fans make edits of you walking through a hail of bullets, and you continue working as a hero.

The heavy double doors of the bank burst open, the alarms blaring even louder. You run across the street in your silly heeled boots and impractical sweetheart-neckline bodysuit. The flared pink skirt—only added back because your approval ratings went down with women with daughters—swishes, giving you your own entrance music.

The trio of robbers shoot at you. You either dodge the bullet or absorb the damage completely, trying to keep a straight face as you heal. Your bodysuit is bulletproof, but the impact is still there. You distantly wonder if Flashfire just shoots out a blast of fire and completely melts the thing.

“Drop your weapons now!” you shout. You’re nearly there now.

As anticipated, they don’t comply and continue firing. However, Flashfire leaps out of his hiding spot and launches a fireball, scattering them into two directions. He goes after the duo, which leaves you the one with metal arms. If you had to guess, this is who Prince faced on Thursday night.

“Put your hands up where I can see them!” you tell him. Useless police protocol against someone with powers.

He gives you a wicked smile. “Let’s see how fast you heal, SweetHeart.”

He slams a fist into your stomach, knocking you back against a car, leaving a you-sized dent on the doors. Your ribs crack and then start to reform. Perhaps your skull has been cracked too. Black and white spots appear before your eyes, and you can vaguely make out Metal Arms heading your direction. Out of the corner of your eye, Flashfire duels with the other assailants, sending flames and smoke everywhere.

You stand up, steadying yourself with the car door mirror. Before he can land another hit on you, you swing your heeled boot between his legs and kick him down, making sure that his head lands hard against the streetlight. Luckily, your aim is good. He slumps down to the pavement, unconscious.

Cameras flash, reporters swarm you. Flashfire appears beside you as police officers begin hauling the criminals away. Someone thrusts a microphone between you two, and the barrage of questions begin.

“Flashfire, what are you doing in Seoul?”

“Heart, how did it feel to take down the criminal the Prince of Shadows didn’t?”

“Flashfire, is it true that you’re switching to SeoulHero?”

“Heart!” “Flashfire!” “Heart!” “Flashfire!”

Somehow, you manage to answer everything with grace. The years of media training have worked wonders for you, and you smile through the painful healing, hoping that you’re looking into a camera. It’s hard to tell if the white light is from yourself or the reporters. Next to organs, bones hurt the most. Flashfire has put an arm around you, and you’re grateful that there is something to stabilize your shaking form.

“Heart!” someone shouts, their voice sounding too familiar for a stranger. You squint and focus on the person, suppressing a choke when your vision clears a little. Beneath the strawberry blonde wig and the circular glasses, is the face of a woman you know all too well. Jihyo gives you a big, bright smile before bringing her mic to her lips. “Can you confirm the recent rumors that you and Flashfire are a couple?”

She holds up her phone, a picture of you and Flashfire sharing a table yesterday at the SeoulHero café. That’s why she had you arrive in civilian clothes.

The cameras capture your shocked face and Flashfire’s equally as stunned one. Another flurry of questions start. His hand feels hot against your arm, and you wriggle out of his hold.

“That’s all the time we have for questions today,” you say into an outstretched mic. Jihyo won’t stop smiling at you, and every part of you burns with embarrassment. “Thank you.”

You can’t fly, so you have to settle for briskly walking back to the car you arrived in. With your partially obscured vision, you twist your ankle as you stumble over a dip in the street, and a dual pain shoots up your leg. Flashfire, who shadows you even though he came in a separate car, guides you the rest of the way when he hears your frustrated growl. SeoulHero’s “security” team tries to prevent the crowd from following, but you know that SeoulHero’s news crew will be allowed to get up close.

“Can you comment on the rumors?” “Flashfire, is this true?”

Everyone keeps their distance from Flashfire but eagerly flock around you. As much as you would love to push past them, you can’t do so in fear of them retaliating. Headlines of “SweetHeart of Seoul Not So Sweet After All?” flash behind your eyes. That would be more than two weeks of probation.

After a delicate dance with the paparazzi, you duck inside the waiting car. Flashfire slides in beside you and slams the door shut. Moments later, Jihyo, now with her usual brown bob, gets into the front seat.

“Drive,” she commands the chauffeur.

“What was that?” you explode. Thank goodness the windows are tinted, so no one can see how angry you are.

“That was the Hero Face launch being saved. Oh, and such a great move, Flashfire, putting an arm around her. Really sold the idea.”

You whip towards him, the seatbelt catching you mid-turn. “You knew about this?”

“I didn’t. That’s a breach of contract,” he says to Jihyo, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“You should have read it more carefully then. You’re on loan to us, so you’re under our jurisdiction as long as it doesn’t harm your public image. I got approval from Busan Defenders just in time too. Thank goodness I had the foresight to pack that wig.”

“I’m the Bad Boy of Busan,” he says. “Any non-work connection I have to the SweetHeart of Seoul—”

“Is going to make your numbers go up. People love a good romance.”

“And what about me?” you fiercely say. Is that a headache or your skull still being repaired? “They’re going to think I’ve been ‘corrupted’ or whatever. I’ve done so many stupid things to uphold this good girl image that you imposed on me, and you just destroyed it in two seconds. Fantastic job, Jihyo.”

She shrugs, typing away on her phone. “Did I? Bad guy, good girl—that’s the kind of romance people love. Hashtag HeartFire. Cute, isn’t it?”

The only sound is of the asphalt crunching beneath the tires. You’re bubbling with rage, Flashfire is staring out the window with an unreadable expression, and Jihyo is busy fueling the flames of a nonexistent relationship. With nothing kind to say and the threat of probation looming over your head, you keep your mouth shut. Instead, you focus on the wrinkles of your white over-the-knee boots.

The house always wins.

You and Flashfire have been forbidden to leave company grounds until the party tomorrow night. Not for your own protection but because there will be more buzz if you do, and that would interfere with the launch.

Fortunately, your apartment, a housing accommodation by SeoulHero, is on company grounds, so at least you can weather the PR storm from the comfort of your couch. You flip through the channels, reaching for another handful of Flashfire Hot Chips whenever you see a report about the world’s fakest romance.

“How are you so calm about this?’ you ask, dusting the crumbs off from your hoodie.

Since Flashfire’s temporary living quarters are two floors above you, he has decided to accompany you while you fume. He brought snacks as well, which is why you let him in in the first place. “This isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“They went behind your back and made your private life public. Sounds pretty bad to me.”

“It’s just a PR stunt. It happens all the time, and this isn’t even real. Why does it matter so much to you?”

Of course he doesn’t care; with the number of alleged one-night stands he has had and the string of broken hearts behind him, he has scandals aplenty. This is just a Flashfire regular. However, your record is so clean, it sparkles. Jihyo scrubbed all the “unpalatable” bits from history and made sure that you would be perfect, flawless Heart.

“It’s a betrayal of trust, for one,” you tell him instead as you rip open another bag. “Secondly, I don’t like being a pawn, especially for something I couldn’t care less about.”

“We’re heroes.” His bravado fades, a sigh hanging onto his lips. “That’s the price we pay if we want to save the world.”

“You’re jaded.”

“And you’re new to this. It’s your, what, third year?”

“Three years total but second professional year.”

It’s been three years since you went to the SeoulHero Company’s auditions with a backpack full of weapons. By the time you got to the homemade Molotov cocktail, they were already gathering papers for you to sign. A year of internships later, you made your grand debut as Heart.

His lazy smile is faraway, clouded with something you can’t discern. “Well, it’s going to be my seventh. You’ll get used to it.”

You remember seeing articles about Flashfire’s early debut. He was still a teenager but a prodigy with masterful control of his superpowers. Busan Defenders signed him immediately.

“It’s to drum up interest for the thing, so it’s not going to be forever,” he continues. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll deny it at the party, say you were telling me about Seoul—”

“Which was what we were doing anyway.”

“—since I’m covering for Prince. Easy, right?”

It does sound easy. Just a “no” would destroy the narrative, and you would be free from one less restriction. But you shake your head, crumpling up an empty bag in a vain attempt to quell your disappointment. “Thanks, but I’ll be put on probation for a whole year if you do. It’s one night, right? I can handle it. Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

Flashfire doesn’t seem to believe you, but the truth is, you don’t believe it either. Jihyo’s plans are never so simple.

Hero Face’s party officially begins at six o’clock, but since you’re one of the guests of honor, you’re allowed to be late. Hence, why you are still being made presentable at seven.

Momo, your makeup artist since your inception as Heart, is dusting your cheekbones with the Brand New Specially Formulated Hero Highlighter, and Jeongyeon, Prince’s usual stylist, is hairspraying your hair into oblivion. Meanwhile, you’re doing your best not to make too many faces. According to your phone, there is currently a four-car pileup on the highway. You should be there.

“Seven thirty,” Jihyo reminds everyone in the vicinity. “If anyone is late, you will be fired. And Heart, if you try anything tonight—”

“I know. Probation.”

“No, even worse. I’m going to make you go to every single promo event we have.” Despite her icy words though, she sweetens her tone when she directly addresses you. “Just grin and bear through it, okay? I know I’ve been hard on you lately, but my own promotion is counting on this. Please don’t ruin it for me.”

You feel a twinge of guilt, but it quickly shrivels up when you remember all the things she ruined for you, namely not being able to drink your favorite brand of soju because of a sponsor conflict. “You got all the buzz you needed for the launch party. What else do you need? Me to kiss Flashfire?”

“That would be perfect, yes.” At your glowering expression, she rolls her eyes. “Mostly kidding. Just stay until the press stuff is over and don’t do anything dumb. Stick with Flashfire all night and pretend to be excited. If anyone asks, you two are dating.”

“I’m not going to lie about the relationship,” you lie, “so you better keep those mics and cameras away from me.”

She stands up straight and flips her bob back, looking down at you in the makeup chair. A smug smile curves across her face, and you know she has seen right through your words. “Heart, don’t try to threaten me. Leave that to the villains. You’re too good for that.”

After she walks away—probably to yell at some unsuspecting intern for breathing too loudly—Momo sympathetically pats your shoulder. “Don’t waste your energy on her. She’s not worth it. Let’s get you dressed now.”

The stylists put you in a creamy pink dress with puffy sleeves and a long flouncy skirt. It’s more romantic than your usual ensembles, but this is what Jihyo is trying to sell. Your only consolation is that they at least didn’t give you a sweetheart neckline.

As Sana helps you into your heels, Jeongyeon arranges the tendrils of hair around your forehead, mumbling to herself as she does so. Seven thirty is fast approaching, and you have to get down to the party in SeoulHero’s main lobby by then. Someone hands you a pearl-handled clutch, and you mindlessly drop your phone in. According to one of Sana’s long ago fashion lectures, a good look isn’t complete with a good accessory. Sana also says that no, an opaque veil does not count, and no, she can’t hide your pretty face like that.

“Done,” Jeongyeon breathes, practically pushing you to Flashfire. He’s been lounging on a couch for the past ten minutes. Unlike his typical outfits, his black suit jacket is actually buttoned up tonight, revealing only a thin triangle of skin instead of his whole chest.

“Should we get going before Jihyo yells at us?” you say in lieu of a greeting. “You look nice, by the way. Less… scary.”

Though he shrugs at the compliment, a hint of a blush appears on his cheeks. “I like it a lot better than what they usually put me in. Do they only let you wear pink?”

Your hero costume is pink and white, and that color scheme stays for all your company-selected outfits. “Gotta stay on brand.”

“Don’t I know it. You look pretty though. Pink’s your color.”

“SeoulHero certainly thinks so too,” you say, not even bothering to hide your derision. “Let’s get this over with.”

However, from the shadows, Jihyo springs upon you two right before the elevator doors close. “Flashfire, put your arm around her, and Heart, before you say anything, I was going to make Prince do this with you too. Don’t ruin this for me, and I won’t ruin it for you. Have fun and remember: face, heart, and soul.”

“Face, heart, and soul,” you hollowly repeat back. You press the ‘CLOSE DOOR’ button, and the doors mercifully close.

The ride down is quiet, with only the soft intermittent chimes of the floor numbers disrupting the silence. Flashfire hovers his arm around your waist, waiting for you to give him express permission. On the third floor, you say, “Go ahead.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s just for a little bit.” You sigh and smooth the skirt of your dress. “I trust you.”

The doors open, revealing the crowd of media personnel and guests that have been invited. The bright lights leave no one in the shadows and nowhere to hide. Numerous cameras capture the opulent party and its attendees. From the second you and Flashfire step out, all eyes are on his hand on your waist.

Lia, a reporter from SeoulHero, has been waiting for this orchestrated moment. “And here with us now are two of the world’s greatest heroes. Heart, Flashfire, you two look so amazing tonight. I have to ask, are you wearing Hero Face?”

You answer her preplanned questions with ease, embellishing your love for the Clinically Proven Enhanced Formula Dewy Foundation. Flashfire, who has been briefed, gets a few softball questions about the launch and his career. He holds you gently the entire time. His hand burns in a way that is unrelated to his powers as you wait for Lia to ask your least desired inquiry.

“You two are looking pretty cozy together,” she says, even though there is a noticeable gap between you and Flashfire, “and we all want to know: is HeartFire a thing?”

“I don’t know,” Flashfire says, looking at you. “Is it?”

Lia and Flashfire are waiting with anticipation, and about half the room is as well. “I don’t know either,” you finally answer. You give Lia a big, bright smile, reminiscent of Jihyo’s. “What do you think?”

The panic is clear in her eyes. “That adorable picture of two having lunch makes me think you are.”

She needs you to confirm it. You can’t outright deny it since that will definitely land you into hot water, so you keep smiling through your distress like she does and hope that she bows out first. Fortunately, Flashfire has found the way to get out of the situation.

“Is that IU?” he says with perfect incredulity.

Even though you know IU respectfully declined the invitation, you are still fooled and look towards the entrance like everyone else. In the meantime, Flashfire practically pushes you out the clutches of the media as they start swarming the glass double doors.

“Thanks,” you say once you two are hidden behind one of the giant ice sculptures commissioned for the event.

“That’s what heroes do.”

You laugh at his overly serious tone. “We can’t do that for all of the other interviews though. What are we going to do?”

Flashfire rolls his shoulders back and glances at the dispersing herd of reporters who are certainly upset that IU isn’t actually here. “They don’t call me the Bad Boy of Busan for no reason.”

After more interviews from different news outlets where Flashfire essentially dodged the question by creating various distractions and after several thousand pictures, you and he head to the penthouse level where the real party is taking place. To your relief, there are no reporters, and the only cameras are those from the attendees. Most of the guests—investors, board members, other invited heroes and celebrities—have already arrived, drinking peach colored champagne as they airily laugh at witty jokes. The lights tint everything gold, and the bright city lights from below only emphasize how exclusive this party is.

“We’re free,” you sigh as you sink into a nearby couch. You think your face is going to be stuck in that simpering, smiling expression forever. “That was amazing.”

“Nothing I haven’t done before.” He also sighs. “You’re not going to get in trouble, are you? Your PR person sounded pretty serious.”

“I’ll be fine. She wanted publicity, we got her some. If you get into trouble, just tell her I made you do it. I’m so done with this.”

It’s almost sweet that he sounds concerned when he asks, “You’re not thinking of retiring, are you?”

“I’m just tired of the facade. I wanted to be a superhero to help people, not to sell random things. I know it’s part of the job, but I wish that it wasn’t so much of it.”

There’s another round of silence. A waiter comes by with a tray of champagne glasses, but you shake your head when he holds it out to you. Flashfire takes one, sips on it for a second before making a sour face and setting it down. Your clutch resting on your lap keeps vibrating with phone calls, no doubt from Jihyo.

“Shouldn’t you answer that?” he says.

One look at the screen confirms your suspicions—sixteen missed calls and a slew of messages you have no intention of looking at. You power off your phone, but not before you spot the news alert of a jewelry store break-in on the other side of the district.

With a renewed sense of spirit, you stand up, pushing back the unfamiliar pink skirt at your legs. “You wanna do some hero stuff?”

It’s an easy mission, one that you and Flashfire complete within a minute of arrival, since none of the thieves have powers. After the police arrive, you pluck pieces of glass shrapnel from your arm, barely wincing when you break the repaired skin. Still fascinated, Flashfire stares.

“It’s not that exciting,” you remark as you pull at the last remaining visible one. You’re going to have to dig through with tweezers and scalpels later for the smaller fragments.

“Yeah, to you. You’re practically invincible.”

You shrug. The remnants of the store’s broken window crunches with the sidewalk beneath your boots as you start walking back to the company car you borrowed. Technically, you don’t have permission to use it, but the newly hired employee at the garage doesn’t know that.

“Patrol?” you suggest. “Unless you want to go back to the party. I have to drop off the car back at the garage anyway.”

“We’re patrolling on foot?”

“I always do.”

He contemplates it for a second. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of you somehow manage to avoid Jihyo and her horde of interns when Flashfire returns the car and while you scrape through your skin for remaining shards. Your party outfit and phone are somewhere on your living room floor, haphazardly covered with a throw blanket in case someone, namely Jihyo, comes searching. After all those calls and messages, she must be.

But you fulfilled your end of the bargain: you stayed until the press interviews finished. You have no idea what Flashfire’s contract entails, but he didn’t seem too bothered by your suggestion. That might be because of who he is though and not necessarily because of a legal obligation.

You weave through the streets and alleys with efficiency, stopping to wave at gawking passersby. Less than discreet phone cameras take pictures of you and your PR stunt. When a teen girl asks you why you aren’t at the Hero Face party, you loudly reply that herowork is more important. Someone nearby whistles in agreement.

The girl mercifully asks Flashfire, “Did Heart make you come with her?” instead of “Are you dating Heart?”

You look at him with the same question on your face. He willingly came, but if he wants to keep up his persona, he’ll say otherwise. A similar concern must have crossed his mind since he replies, “Don’t forget that I’m a hero too,” not quite answering the question.

It’s a satisfactory response for them.

“We have to keep moving, but thanks for coming out to say hi,” you tell them. You take long strides forward, Flashfire following behind, and a path opens. Some thank you for your work, and a sense of fulfillment wells up inside you. This part of being a superhero you love—the people’s joy and their warmth.

“They really love you,” Flashfire remarks as he glances back. A few curious stragglers lurk by, but they’re too shy to approach when two heroes are walking side by side, their steps purposeful and their eyes watchful. “I think that man almost fainted when you smiled at him.”

“They love you too.”

“Not in the same way as you. Is this your usual route?” he abruptly asks. Dressed in his tight-fitting all-black costume, he’s difficult to make out beneath the shadows of the tall buildings.

“It changes every time,” you answer, “so no one knows my patterns. Jihyo wanted me to stick to one for publicity, but screw that. How do you do it in Busan?”

At the mention of his home city, he brightens a bit. “I stick with one route in the day, mostly so I get lunch at this deli. They’ve got the best bulgogi in the world. The grandma that runs it always gives me some extra.”

“The perks of being a superhero, getting free food,” you say, thinking back to the café. The scent of grilled meat wafts out from a Korean barbeque joint, and as if on cue, your stomach growls. “You wanna get dinner at the SeoulHero café when we’re done? They’ve got the best chicken sandwich in the world.”

“Yeah. We can finally go on that date everyone thinks we were on.” He sighs. “You know, my mom called me that night and asked me if it was true. ‘If it can’t be IU, then Heart is just as good.’”

The comparison makes you wince, but you make a noise of acknowledgement.

A small scuffle in an alleyway catches your eye, but Flashfire beats you to the scene first, illuminating the dim corridor with a flickering flame in the palm of his hand. The harsh light reveals two waitstaff wrestling a giant trash bag into an already full dumpster. They nearly drop the bag in an effort to say a greeting.

“Keep up the good work, gentlemen,” Flashfire says before extinguishing his fire. When he steps back onto the main sidewalk, he furtively glances back. “Are you a little disappointed that it wasn’t a fight?”

“How very on-brand of you to say that,” you tell him even though you wished it was as well. You want to feel useful, like being a superhero nowadays isn’t all just appearances and fake dating.

“Well, it wouldn’t have been on-brand if you said it.”

You laugh, and for a few glorious seconds, you feel a little lighter. Meanwhile, Flashfire looks pleased with himself that he elicited something other than exasperation from you. The moment of unfiltered happiness, however, disappears when a black car pulls up to the curb and rolls down its tinted windows.

Sitting in the passenger seat is your current bane of existence. “Get in the car, Heart. A rep from Chiffon just called and said they’re interested in you being on next month’s cover. Their editor-in-chief is at the party, so you need to go back now.”

There are too many people around for you to spit a retort back. Flashfire looms underneath the street sign, waiting for you to take the lead.

“I’m not done with patrol yet,” is all you can get out.

“Flashfire can handle it.” When she sees that you’re standing steadfast, she adds in a whisper, “Look, once I get promoted, you won’t have to deal with me anymore, so just go back to the party and talk with her for a while. Then you can do whatever you want. Call off the relationship, drop that soju sponsorship, whatever. I’ll even let you change your hero costume to whatever you want. I know you hate it.”

In an equally low tone, you reply, “And no more threatening me with probation either. Or putting me on probation, for that matter.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

“We’re adjusting my contract to reflect that.”

“Fine. Now get in before she decides you’re not worth her time.”

You step backwards, aligning yourself with Flashfire, who looks amused at this turn of events. “I’m finishing patrol first. I’ll be at the party later.”

“You can handle it,” Flashfire cheekily says to Jihyo before starting down the block. “Let’s get a move on it, SweetHeart. The world needs some saving.”

You run after him, hiding the triumphant grin you have on.

You’re not a liar, so you returned to the party and chatted with Chiffon’s editor-in-chief, a woman dripping with jewels who did not seem too perturbed that you arrived in your costume instead of formal outfit. Now you’re splayed across your living room couch, dressed to the zeros in sweats. The TV plays reruns of a bad drama. You watch with glassy eyes as the CEO’s superpowered wife intentionally freezes his phone.

The editor-in-chief was kind. She also asked enough questions to warrant you feeling like you were being interrogated. How Flashfire answered everything with an air of nonchalance, you have no clue. All you can hope for now is that she likes you enough to have you on the cover of her magazine. Then Jihyo can leave you alone forever.

The loud chime of your doorbell snaps you back into reality. You pad across the foyer and open the door, revealing a smiling Flashfire holding a bag from the café. He offered to pick up dinner after noticing how sullen you were on the elevator ride down, and you readily accepted.

“I didn’t know you could look like death with your powers,” he teases. He shuts the door behind him and follows you to the dining area.

You’re far too interested about what he brought back to say something snarky back. You peer into the bag and retrieve your favorite item, sighing with pleasure when you realize that he got your order correct. “How’d you know about the pickles and sauce?”

“I asked the head chef to give me two orders of whatever you like. You know they have a framed photo of you in the kitchen?” He takes a bite out of his sandwich. “Mm, this is good. It’s got just enough spice.”

The aforementioned framed photo was a joke to celebrate your status as the café’s most beloved customer. You signed the back of it, calling it an investment for the chef.

“You want to go out on the balcony?” you ask. “It tastes better when you’re cold.”

When he nods, you slide open the glass and step out onto the polished wooden slats. As expected, they’re freezing, and you hold your warm sandwich even tighter. If you squint a bit, the traffic lights and lit-up windows are excellent replacements for stars.

A flash of orange catches your eye, and you look at Flashfire with confusion when he holds a large flame. It burns white for a moment and disappears. However, he seems pleased by what he has produced.

“What was that for?” you ask.

Humming to himself, he further peels back the sandwich wrapper. “Promise you won’t tell?”

“What’s to tell?” you first say and then add, “I won’t, I promise. Is it that secretive though?”

“It is when it deals with my powers. I use my own body heat to create fire, so my body temperature drops after. I have to be careful or else I’ll die, but you know, normal superhero things. And you said it tastes better when it’s cold, so I thought it would be best to make myself colder.” He pauses for a beat. “So what’s your drawback? If you even have one, that is.”

While you stay quiet, wondering if you should reveal it, Flashfire continues eating his dinner, the crunch of the chicken and lettuce intermingling with the sounds of traffic.

“Rapid regeneration hurts,” you finally say. “Even more so than getting injured. From least to most pain, it goes skin, muscle, bones, organs.”

His face is panicked as he remembers how he burned your wrist. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve been through worse. If we’re apologizing, I’m sorry about dragging you into my mess with Jihyo and being very not-Heart. PR stuff usually doesn’t get me this upset, but… yeah.” You fill your mouth with food before you can continue rambling.

“Your entire hero persona is about PR. I’d be pissed if my hero name had to fit the company slogan,” he muses. “I mean, I picked mine when I was sixteen, and it’s kind of dumb, but it’s mine at least.”

You hesitate at first, but soon, your hand moves of its own accord toward him. You raise your pinky finger up. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

He hooks his pinky with yours and presses his thumb against yours. “I’m very trustworthy. What’s this about though?”

Jihyo’s words to you from two years ago ring in your head, her voice as clear as day when she warns you not to tell the truth. It’s going to damage your reputation, she said, so keep your mouth shut. I’ll take care of everything else.

“I was allowed to pick my name,” you slowly begin. “Jihyo had been assigned to me when I first got accepted and told me I had to choose my hero name before the end of the internship period. I worked under Miss A during my internship, and because I was the rookie, I got all the undesirable jobs. One night, she sent me to the red light district in Miari to patrol, and there was a girl getting beat by a man in an alley. She was bleeding from her head and holding up her arms in defense. I stepped in to stop him, and he turned on me to ‘teach me a lesson for being nosy.’

“I told the girl to run, and she did. He didn’t chase after her. After a few punches, he saw that I wasn’t dying, so he summoned knives from his body. Turns out he had superpowers too. He started slashing and stabbing at me, and I couldn’t fight back that much since I was in so much pain. He started panicking when he realized that it wasn’t enough, and I’ll spare you the details. He cut out my heart. Then he ran off.

“I passed out.

“Miss A found me an hour later when I didn’t come back to company headquarters in time. I was healed, but I was still on the floor, unconscious. Apparently, she saw my old heart from the street and decided to check out the alley. I told Jihyo when I woke up that I wanted my name to be Heart. You should have seen her face. I think she started working on all those nicknames that morning. She told me she would take care of the rest, and when I debuted, I found out that she made up a fake story for my name.

“SeoulHero cleaned up the mess, and I found out later that Miss A got fired for endangering a rookie and because she wasn’t supposed to send me to red light districts. Their reasoning was that I was too young, but it was probably because they couldn’t have the next IU be associated with brothels. I’m technically not even supposed to be telling you all this.” You take a large bite, unsure of what to say next. Even with the sounds of the city, it’s unsettlingly quiet.

Flashfire offers you a wry smile. “If it makes Jihyo mad, it’s worth it, right? Heart, that’s hardcore. What happened to the guy?”

“Miss A handled him. It was her last mission before she got fired.” Your sandwich is gone, so you crumple up the wrapper into a tight little ball. Flashfire incinerates his and cups the dust between his hands before the wind can send it across the sky. Environmentally conscious. SeoulHero would love him. “Thanks for going along with everything tonight and before that too. You’re a surprisingly chill person for someone who uses fire.”

He punctuates your comment by unleashing a small, thin flame. It dances on his fingertip like a will o’ wisp, and he blows it out with a puff.

It makes you laugh, and you quickly add, “And for the record, I think Flashfire’s a pretty cool name, not dumb at all.”

He leans against the railing, his public persona melting away when he smiles a wide, gummy smile at you. “You really think so? Hey, did you know that we’re the same age? You can call me Jeongin. Can I call you by your name instead of Heart?”

How brazen, and how very Flashfire-like of him to ask. “Yeah, why not?” You introduce yourself to him as your true self, and a shy blush creeps up your cheeks. It’s been so long since you’ve been anyone but Heart.

“We’ll stay in touch, right? If you ever need to go scorched earth”—he makes a flame burst and pop in his hand—“I’m your hero.”

“I think I’m good, but thanks, Jeongin.”

His powers don’t hold a candle to the way he beams. It’s only when he leaves, saying good night with your name attached, do you realize that he’s one of the few heroes that knows your real name. It’s silly, but it makes you feel a lot better about your job, like you’re less alone in the red tape of the superhero business. You don’t think any other hero has seen you lose it like he did.

You go to bed that night with a lighter conscience and are ready to face whatever nonsense SeoulHero has drummed up for you the following day. When you finally power your phone on, bracing yourself for the early morning emails and hopefully a goodbye message from Jihyo, a horrifying news alert pops onto your feed.

SEOULHERO CONFIRMS THAT SUPERHEROES HEART AND FLASHFIRE ARE DATING.

Blood thrumming in your ears, you flick away the notification only for it to be replaced by a text from Jihyo, asking if you enjoyed her parting gift. You don’t reply. Instead, you dial Nayeon’s number, pace around your room, and plot the demise of your career. SeoulHero might not want you afterwards, but maybe another company will.

“Heart?” comes Nayeon’s sleepy voice. “Everything okay?”

“I need Flashfire’s number now, and every single news reporter you can get your hands on.”

“Why?”

“I have something important to announce.”

In case any of you wanted to see all the fake tweets I made for the banner: