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Date Roulette: Daesung

Tuesday

Intro Week Start Seungri Week Start Previous Next

There was sunlight on my face, and quiet snoring to my left. And from the direction of my feet.

I pushed myself to sitting, rubbing my eyes and blinking away the haze of sleep.

Daesung was sprawled on his back on the floor. The cushion he had been cuddling last night was flung halfway across the room.

Chul was curled onto the sofa. He had set his camera on the glass top of the coffee table, and left it recording.

I wondered how much space was on the camera’s drive.

My eyelids were sticking to my contacts. Time to become a human being.

First stop was the bathroom. Wash off yesterday’s makeup, brush teeth, replace lenses… next stop living room. I gathered up the glasses from last night. There seemed to be too many of them. Had Chul given in and had a drink?

Regardless, I gathered them into the kitchen and starting looking for what I could pull together for breakfast.

“I don’t want to be demanding but I need some water.”

I chuckled and poured Daesung a glass of water.

“There’s coffee brewing too. I think I’m just going to heat up the leftover pizza, but if you want I could make you something for breakfast.”

Daesung was too busy trying to drown his headache to answer right away.

He was on his second cup of water when Chul made his way into the kitchen, camera (as ever) in hand.

“Coffee,” I gestured to the pot that was nearly done brewing, “pizza,” the toaster oven, “water?”

Chul indicated the water, so I filled a glass and handed it over.

“I think I’ll have the pizza for now,” Daesung finally spoke up, “but you can make me breakfast some other time.”

I blanked out for a second, caught up in Daesung’s playful tone and innuendo.

“Sounds good,” I nodded, not sure if he had actually meant it to sound that way.

The pizza was… edible. Barely. It filled us enough to take the edge off the hangover.

“What do you want to do today?” Daesung asked between slices.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not doing anything without having a proper shower first. Plus I have to clean those paints up.”

“That’s fair. Uh,” Daesung leaned back and twitched his fingers in the air for a moment, “how about we meet up in about two… and a half hours?”

“Perfect,” I hopped down from where I had perched on the countertop.

Daesung stuck around and helped me clean up the suite. It was nice. We even put on some music while we rearranged the living area into its original setting.

“When did we move the sofa?” I groaned, pushing it back into the indentations that it had left in the carpet.

“When I tried to teach you the choreography to Bang Bang Bang,” Daesung called from the kitchen.

“Oh yeah… how was I?”

“Mmm…” Daesung came through the doorway, shaking his head, “you could use some lessons. You could ask Youngbae to teach you next week.”

I leaned against the sofa back and nodded. It was good advice. It was obvious that Taeyang would be difficult to get comfortable with, but maybe asking him for help dancing would help loosen some of the tension.

“It would be good to have something to focus on,” I agreed.

The cleaning was done pretty quickly, which left us to only clean ourselves. We agreed to just text each other when we were ready to go out.

I left the music on while I showered and took some extra time for being by myself. An entire day had passed with Daesung, but it felt like less somehow. He was easy to be around, and he had a calming charm to him. I was glad. Last week felt like a mess, and spending a week with Daesung seemed like a good way to come back from everything that had happened.

After my shower, I was lazy. I took my time picking out clothes, once again revelling in the softness of the bathrobe.

I decided to check my phone, which brought me back to the texts from Jiyong from the previous night.

From: Lyong Boho Are you and Daesung still out?

To: Lyong Boho No, we’re in my suite. What’s up?

From: Lyong Boho Nothing.

The amount of time he had taken to give such a simple answer seemed like too much time. I could see how he might have been upset. Being alone in my suite at odd hours was sort of his thing, and he was already established as being the jealous type.

I thought back to his comment about if I developed feelings for someone else — that he didn’t need to know. Did he think that something had happened? Chul had been there the whole time. It wasn’t the same thing at all.

To: Lyong Boho Did you need something last night?

I left the chat to check my other ones.

From: Hugeboy You’re free now, right?

From: Hugeboy You don’t have to spend time with Seungri anymore?

From: Hugeboy We should celebrate .+:｡ʕノ•ᴥ•ʔノ°+*

I smiled at Mino’s cute messages. I liked that he was concerned without falling into the trap of hypermasculine protectiveness.

To: Hugeboy Right! I’m spending this week with Daesung.

To: Hugeboy He seems nice.

There was still one more notification waiting for me. It was… unexpected, to say the least.

From: Cho Ilsung Can we meet?

I kept opening and closing the chat from Ilsung. Eventually, I decided to ignore it. If it was something super important, he’d have to tell me what it was upfront. I wasn’t about to start playing twenty questions just to find out what he wanted.

Having answered the messages that I cared about, I finally set about getting dressed. I was down to only needing to pull my shirt on when my phone alerted me to a new message.

From: Lyong Boho I guess not.

From: Lyong Boho … I wanted to see you.

To: Lyong Boho What for? What’s up?

From: Lyong Boho I like seeing you. I wanted to talk.

From: Lyong Boho Daesung was there late…

To: Lyong Boho Just say what you want to say Ji.

It took him a while to respond to that, but when he did it came in a rush.

From: Lyong Boho Don’t fall for him.

From: Lyong Boho He’s a great guy, a good person. I’m not warning you of anything.

From: Lyong Boho I just don’t want you to fall for anyone else.

From: Lyong Boho But I shouldn’t say such things until endgame.

From: Lyong Boho I shouldn’t even be talking like this until the show is done, right?

From: Lyong Boho I shouldn’t interfere, but I don’t want to not interfere.

I was ready to meet Daesung, but I just sat on my bed instead of messaging him. My phone was hanging limply in my hands.

I knew that things were… escalated with Jiyong. But this, especially after him admitting that he thought he really had feelings for me, seemed out of hand. I wasn’t even sure what my own feelings towards Jiyong were. We had had arguments, and he was a little pushy. He clowned around at times, but was so calculating at others. I was never sure what was sincerity and what was done for the ratings with him.

I suppose if it’s off camera it’s probably not for the ratings.

I was shaken out of my thoughts by my phone ringing. The name D-Lite flashing on my screen conjured a memory of Daesung reprogramming his contact info in my phone. He had even included a green heart next to his name, mirroring the one he had next to Sailor Moon in his phone.

I smiled and quickly answered.

“Yes?”

“I’m ready to go. How about you?”

I glanced around the room, getting my bearings back.

“Ah, yeah, I just need shoes I guess.”

“Alright. Let’s meet in the lobby.”

“Ok.”

Forgetting to respond to Jiyong’s messages, I slipped my phone into my pocket, my feet into shoes, and headed downstairs.

It was hot. The kind of hot that creates steam from seemingly dry streets. The sun was hard at work drawing every ounce of moisture out everything that it touched.

In my opinion, it was perfect. I had snagged a light cotton button up shirt to use as protection from the sun, and the dryness made it exactly as comfortable as I had hoped. The only annoying thing was the brightness.

Of course that only gave me an excuse to hide my bloodshot eyes behind sunglasses.

Daesung’s first suggestion was to stop by a corner store to grab some drinks. He insisted on some hangover cures, and I bought the largest bottle of water I could find.

Taking up one of the plastic tables outside, we settled into a quiet moment. I suspected that quiet moments would be a trademark of my time with Daesung.

“What should we do today?”

I leaned back in the chair to consider the possibilities. While I was glad to be outside in the sun, Daesung seemed to be struggling a little bit.

“Should we find a bookstore?”

Daesung nodded, “okay. There’s one nearby that I like.”

The bookstore was cool and considerably less glaring than outside.

“What are you looking for?” Daesung asked.

I shrugged. It had just been something that seemed like as good an idea as anything else.

“Nothing. But I’m almost done with my last book so…” I left the statement open.

Daesung nodded, looking around the store.

“Let’s start on this side,” he pointed left.

We trawled the shelves, regardless of section. Every now and then one or the other of us would pull out a book whose title caught our eye.

We quietly read the snippets from dust jackets to each other, and shared opinions on whether the books were worth investing in.

At one point Daesung thumbed through a book of poems.

“I’ve heard that this is a popular poet. Here;” he cleared his throat and read aloud —

“Oh, my lover who had pure eyes; oh, the silver scales that occupied your eyes. Tonight snow falls. Oh, my poor lover who wrapped my neck with a white towel and washed my face, a sacred quiet descends upon the lonely planet. I close my eyes to remember the time your hands washed my face.”

I had always struggled with poetry. Too many poets seemed to just be dressing up their daily occurrences with inconsequential symbolism.

Maybe I just didn’t get it.

“He’s sad and lonely,” I shrugged, “him and everyone else on earth.”

Daesung looked uncomfortable. I thought maybe he was disappointed by my assessment. He frowned and reshelved the book.

In the next aisle, my phone started ringing. I made note of the picture that came up. A joke I had chosen one night — a picture of a Blue Eyes White Dragon card. Jiyong was calling.

I shuffled off a little bit before answering.

“What’s up?”

“Wher… it doesn’t matter.” Jiyong interrupted his usual greeting, sighing before continuing, “I’m calling because I’m stressed.”

“Ooookay?” I wandered back down an aisle Daesung and I had already searched. “Again, what’s up?”

“You didn’t respond to my texts. I… I kind of said a lot and I was… I am nervous, I guess.”

I grimaced, feeling a little guilty for forgetting to respond to his messages.

“Ah, sorry, Daesung called so we had to get going.”

“You forgot?” Jiyong sounded amazed. “Wow. You’re so…” he groaned, then let out a puff of air, “you’re cute.”

I could tell he had suppressed the urge to tell me off.

“I’m sorry~... I got distracted oppa~...”

He groaned again, but it was less painful sounding than before.

“It’s okay jagi… you’re working hard. How is it?”

“It’s good. Daesung and I get along well. We’re comfortable, you know?”

“Mm, and last night?”

“It was fun. We drank and listened to music,” I stretched my shoulder, feeling the tightness from sleeping on the floor. “I’m a little sore though,” I complained.

There was a sound like something rubbing against the microphone of Jiyong’s phone, followed by a sigh.

“You… what? You what?”

“I’m s-“

“No,” he cut me off, “don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

I rolled my eyes in vain.

“It’s just from the floor.”

“The floor? You… the floor…” he groaned again, “that doesn’t help, Luna.”

“Grow up Ji. We got drunk and fell asleep on the floor… five feet apart, with Chul there.”

Silence through the phone for a few seconds.

“... that makes sense.”

I glanced around quickly before speaking up, adding a flirtatious lilt to my voice.

“Oppa~... what were you thinking?”

“Nothing!”

“Were you jea~lous?”

“Don’t tease me jagi,” he sounded serious. “You know I worry about you all the time.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes I do,” the seriousness faded from his voice. “Until this is all over,” he sounded tired, like he was carrying a heavy burden, “I’m going to worry.”

“Yeah, well,” I dropped the cuteness from my tone, “I’m not going to hold myself back on your account if something develops.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

With that, he ended the call.

I looked at the phone, unsure of what had just happened. Was that an argument? For a second I let myself imagine being in a relationship with Jiyong. Would this be the sort of thing that would come up often?

I shook my head and dropped my phone back into the pocket of my shorts.

I returned to where Daesung was standing in the next aisle. He had a book open in his hands, and his hair in his eyes.

He was handsome.

Hearing my footsteps, he looked up and gave me a smile.

“What was that?”

I shrugged, “just Jiyong. What are you reading?”

“It’s not very good,” Daesung snapped the book shut and reshelved it. He looked a little mischievous somehow.

“I couldn’t help but overhear.” He cocked an eyebrow, “you didn’t really go that far.”

“Ah,” I brushed my hand through my hair, feeling my cheeks heat up a little, “that was… he tho-“

“He’s jealous that I slept in your suite, right?”

I turned to pretend to skim over more book titles, lifting a hand to brush over the dust jackets.

“I guess. He was worried.”

Daesung gently took my wrist in his hand, his body brushing mine around so he could look down into my face. Whatever hue my face had been before, it felt at least three shades darker now.

“Is he worried that you have feelings for me?”

I couldn’t think of anything to say. Daesung filled the silence, leaning in a little closer.

“Do you like me?” He said it just barely above a whisper.

“I…” I blinked. To say that this change in attitude was unexpected would be an understatement. This was not the bright boy I had spent the morning with.

Daesung suddenly laughed, stepping back and leaning forward.

“I… What?” I watched him get a hold of himself.

“You should have seen your face. Oh boy,” Daesung wiped at his eye, “I wonder how that will get edited together.”

I laughed, nervously, still unsteady from the intensity of the moment.

It was a joke. Right. A joke. Of course. Daesung wasn’t the type to suddenly just… do whatever that has been.

Daesung seemed to be enjoying my slow recovery from being flustered. He kept poking fun about how red I had turned, even after we had left the bookstore.

“Stop~~” I whined, “you would be the same.”

Daesung ruffled my hair and cooed at me.

“Aigoo~... I didn’t realise you were so easy to rile up.” Daesung laughed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “No wonder Seunghyun likes having you around.”

I made a face, but didn’t say anything. It just didn’t seem like an argument worth having.

We walked, vaguely heading back towards the hotel. We took our time, basically recreating the lazy stroll from the day before.

“I really am curious,” Daesung started, after about three blocks of silence, “about what Jiyong said.”

I hummed, not committing to answering questions.

“How badly does he want to win?”

“I don’t know,” I hunched my shoulders, watching my feet move over the sidewalk. “Sometimes he acts like he already has. But,” I lifted my head, face up to the sky, “I don’t know if he’s sincere or just competitive.”

Daesung hummed this time.

“Is it weird to talk about him?” I asked.

“Not really,” Daesung shrugged, “but I don’t know what to tell you. He hasn’t really talked about his feelings in the group chat or anything.”

I nodded. That made sense, he was fantastically reserved at times.

“Wait,” I jumped in front of Daesung to stop him, “you guys talk about me in a group chat?!”

He grinned, that mischievous look in the curl of his lips again.

“It’s just our regular chat. But yeah,” he brushed past me, “you come up sometimes.”

I stood still, squinting after him for a minute before jogging to catch up.

“Wait! What do you guys say?”

Daesung just smiled and shrugged.

“You know, just stuff.”

I decided to try a tactic that worked on some others.

“Dae~~!” I pouted, “you can’t just say that and not tell me.”

“Ah,” he playfully wagged a finger at me, “I’m older than you. I’m sure you can do better than that.”

My pout was real as I glanced at the camera and sighed. I rolled my eyes a little overly dramatic for the camera before I tried again.

“Oppaa~” I wiggled my shoulders, “please tell me.”

“Ahhhh,” Daesung made grabby hands at my face, not actually touching me, “you do know how to be cute?”

“Dae-yah!” I decided to try to shake him loose by quickly switching gears, “just tell me.”

He laughed and offered me his hand. Hoping that it would help, I took it in mine.

“Fine, fine,” we walked side by side as he spoke now, “hmmm… for the last week it’s mostly just been Seungri asking what we knew about courting western women.”

I couldn’t help but let out a snort of a laugh.

“T.O.P-hyung mentioned something that didn’t make sense, and refused to explain. Youngbae isn’t really sure why you were chosen. And Jiyong, well…”

He let the sentence hang there. I was sure he was taunting me on purpose.

Fine, I was done playing this game.

“You don’t need to tell me about Jiyong. That guy is…” I waved my free hand vaguely and shook my head.

“So you know?” Daesung raised his eyebrow.

“I have an idea,” I gestured towards the camera, “but let’s not spoil it.”

I had no idea what Daesung had meant, but pretending worked in my favour. After Daesung and I had returned to the hotel, and decided not to overdose on each other’s company like the previous night, I got a text from Jiyong.

From: Lyong Boho Who told you?!

To: Lyong Boho ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

From: Lyong Boho Was it Seungri?

From: Lyong Boho That camera guy? Chul?

To: Lyong Boho I can’t believe you would think Chul would betray someone’s trust like that.

To: Lyong Boho Chul is an angel.

From: Lyong Boho Then who was it?

To: Lyong Boho Nobody. Or you. I can just tell.

From: Lyong Boho So you don’t know anything.

To: Lyong Boho Rude.

I decided to use my freedom to see if Soo-Ah was available. As it turned out, she wasn’t. On a brief phone call she explained that she was currently at a salon, getting ready for a date. I wished her well and hung, feeling more than a little lonely.

I tried to think of who else I might be able to get dinner with, but the fact was that I had previously led a small life. One close friend, my dog, and a few people at arm’s length. The few numbers that I had gotten from being part of this show had doubled the length of my non-professional contact list.

I was usually comfortable with my little life. I had expected to feel reenergised by the chance to exist without social demands for a minute. However, now, after the action packed style of the last two weeks, and for the first time in a long time, I felt lonely.

Laying on my bed, despite the sun still being up, I started scrolling through Instagram. It was strange to think that I could actually make contact with a few of the artists I followed now.

Urged on by that thought, and the sinking sensation that loneliness had started to etch into my chest, I switched to my texts.

To: Hugeboy I just realised, again, how weird it is that I have your number.

To: Hugeboy And Big Bang!

To: Hugeboy And Zico!

From: Hugeboy The only weird one is Zico.

From: Hugeboy When did you even exchange numbers?

To: Hugeboy We didn’t. He found mine somehow. Online or something.

From: Hugeboy Like I said...

From: Hugeboy Weird.

From: Hugeboy How are things going with Daesung?

To: Hugeboy Really well! He’s so fun and sweet!

To: Hugeboy I really like spending time alone with him. He’s great.

From: Hugeboy Forget I asked (￢_￢;)

To: Hugeboy Why? Would it be better if things were bad?

From: Hugeboy No… it’s just that women always like him.

From: Hugeboy Even his exes still like him.

From: Hugeboy Once you fall for him you never come back.

To: Hugeboy Who said I fell for him? I just like hanging out with him.

From: Hugeboy (ノωヽ)

I switched back to Instagram, not seeing much point in continuing this line of conversation. A few minutes later, a particular picture made me go back to my texts.

To: Hugeboy Okay... I have a question.

From: Hugeboy Okay... I have an answer.

To: Hugeboy Can I fire your stylist?

From: Hugeboy Why?!

To: Hugeboy Houndstooth.

To: Hugeboy Why Houndstooth?

To: Hugeboy It’s the worst of all patterns.

From: Hugeboy What are you talking about?

To: Hugeboy Your Instagram. Burberry or whatever.

From: Hugeboy You follow me on Instagram?

To: Hugeboy Literally millions of people follow you. Yes, I’m in there somewhere.

A notification pinged up on my screen. I snorted and swiped it away.

To: Hugeboy How did you find mine that fast?

From: Hugeboy Phone number.

From: Hugeboy YOU HAVE A DOG?!?!?!?!

To: Hugeboy Yes

From: Hugeboy Can I meet your dog?

I laid my face in my palm when the car pulled up. These boys really had no sense of subtlety.

Mino quickly got out of the passenger side door and gestured me over. I laughed, watching his eyes squinting out the glare of the sunset above a black face mask.

“What’s the point of wearing the mask when everyone knows the car?”

“I told him that it was stupid,” Zico’s voice came through the open door behind Mino. “Hey minyeo.”

“You guys…” Mino groaned.

I bent down and waved at Zico.

“How did he even convince you to drive?”

“He said I could meet a dog.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic. I had done much dumber things than go for a drive to get close to animals.

I crawled into the back seat, and gave Zico my address to put into his gps as Mino got back into the car.

“Everyone settled? Okay? Good,” Zico was clearly a man on a mission, “let’s go.”

Zico got lost, twice, despite the gps telling him exactly where and when to turn.

Finally, after the sun was down, we arrived at my apartment complex.

“This place is kind of…” Mino looked confusedly up at the building.

“Are you secretly rich or something?” Zico asked, substantially more straight forward than Mino’s still hanging sentence.

“Not really,” I shrugged, digging into my backpack for my keys, “I’m just well invested and live cheaply.”

Mino shook his head, “I know an actor that lives around here. These apartments are not cheap.”

I led them inside and upstairs.

“I drew a comic book series,” I explained leading the way down the hall towards my front door, “I don’t know how well it actually did, but the writer pays me a yearly royalty. I take most of it and invest it in developing businesses. The returns are usually pretty good. Ah, I can hear him!”

We had reached my front door. The second my key hit the lock, I heard the excited clicking of nails on the wood floor inside.

I tapped my nails on the door. 123… pause… 123. Instantly the clicking get more energetic, followed by a low “borf!”

I also heard Soo-Ah’s voice.

“What are you all excited about?”

I quickly unlocked the door and tumbled into the apartment.

“Luna!”

“Ttungbo!” I flung myself onto the ground to wrap my arms around the Boxer Terrier.

“Really? I guess that mmmmmmmMino! And… Luna what’s going on?! Why are you bringing two males to your apartment?!”

I looked up at Soo-Ah, noting the way she was hurriedly grabbing the blanket from the sofa to wrap around her uncovered legs.

I looked over at Mino and Zico. Mino was politely staring at my coatrack. Zico was on the floor next to me, all of his attention on my dog.

“I thought you were out.”

“I… it didn’t go well,” she shimmied her blanket wrapped self down the hall. “I’ll be right back!”

She slammed the door to the guest room shut.

Mino turned to me.

“You didn’t tell her we were coming?”

“She was supposed to be on a date.”

“I love your dog.”

I looked at Zico, who seemed to have been entirely oblivious to the fact that we had walked in on a half naked woman watching dramas.

“Right,” I stood up, “do either of you want anything?”

Ttungbo quickly sat directly between Zico’s legs and flopped his head on his chest.

“I’m good,” Zico said quietly, smiling at my dog.

“Okay,” I nodded and turned to Mino, “how about you? Hungry or anything?”

I started towards the kitchen, not waiting to hear Mino’s reply.

“I don’t know what’s here since I’ve been gone but there should be something around.”

I started by opening the fridge. There was a half empty take-away container of noodles, a bag of sad looking carrots, and two cans of Cass. I made a note to talk to Soo-Ah about taking care of herself better.

I felt the air stir behind me as Mino bent behind me to peek inside the fridge as well.

“Maybe the cupboard…” I mumbled, closing it in embarrassment.

“I’ll order something, what do you and Soo-Ah like?”

“Uh…” I didn’t know how Soo-Ah would feel about eating with them. She usually had no problem eating in front of people (in fact, it was one of the rare times she was guaranteed to eat at all), but I felt like I should check with her anyway.

“I’ll go ask her what she wants.”

As I walked down the hall to the guest room, I spotted Zico now laying on the floor playing tug-of-war with Ttungbo’s favourite toy, Corn Man.

I knocked on the door.

“Unnie?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

I rolled my eyes and opened the door.

Soo-Ah was leaning over the dresser, patting a cushion over her face. She was now clothed in her usual trendy style.

I plopped down on the bed and watched her.

“How you doing?”

“You could have told me you were hanging out with them.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know I was going to be, and you had your date so I figured it be okay. Besides,” I smirked, “it is my apartment.”

“Okay fine,” she sighed, putting down the cushion and picking up her eyebrow pencil, “but still. A little warning next time.”

“Yes. I figured if we were still here when you got back you’d be all made up in date looks anyway. Hot and maybe a little messy.”

She threw the cap of her pencil at me, but smiled.

“I did look good… if you guys had just been twenty minutes earlier…” she shook her head.

I watched her. She didn’t seem too stressed out, just nagging instead of actually scolding.

“I checked the fridge,” she frowned at my words. I quickly continued, “Mino suggested ordering some food. Do you want anything?”

“Food food, or something like banchan?”

I shrugged, it didn’t really matter to me. But I also smiled, knowing what she was thinking.

“Ojingeochae bokkeum and gaji?”

She nodded, smiling shyly.

I stood and headed back out of the room.

“I’ll tell him. And,” I paused at the door, “don’t do your eyeliner. You look best with your natural eye.”

“Should we stream? This is enough food for a mukbang,” I mumbled as I looked over the bags on my counter.

“I think Soo-Ah is the only one of us that wouldn’t get in trouble,” Mino pointed out.

“What about Zico? Isn’t he basically his own boss?”

“Netizens are a thing. I can’t just be out here eating with women,” Zico’s voice floated up from the floor, where he was now laying on his back. Ttungbo was laid across his chest, chewing on Corn Man as if he wasn’t pinning a six foot tall man to the floor.

I started unpacking the bags of food and sorting through the dishes. We had ended up ordering from five different places, somehow.

Mino popped open a container of kimchi and delicately fished out a larger piece of radish to pop into his mouth. I quickly tried to ignore the elegant lines of his hands as he sucked his thumb clean... and the soft dip of his shoulders as he leaned against the island in my kitchen. I definitely ignored the smudge of red left on his lip that he was obviously oblivious to.

“Ah…” I turned to the lower cabinet where I kept Ttungbo’s food, hiding the blush that threatened to cover my face.

Ttungbo’s ears pricked up when I grabbed the bag of food and he quickly scrambled up from his makeshift bed, managing to step squarely on Zico’s chest as he rushed over to his food bowl.

“Ah, my gordito, you know I can’t fill the bowl when you stand over it like that.”

“Bobby and Hoon want to come over.”

I finished filling up Ttungbo’s bowl and stood up, tilting my head at Mino.

“Hoon… Seunghoon?”

“Yeah,” he smiled shyly, only accenting the red that still marked his lips. Semi-consciously, I licked my own lip as if it would make the mark disappear.

“You don’t have to be so excited about it,” Mino started to pout. “They’re just bored and heard there was food, a dog, and soon to be alcohol here.”

I scrunched my face, shaking my head.

“I’m not excited.”

“Then what was that lip thing after you said Seunghoon’s name?”

Even though I knew exactly what he was talking about, I feigned ignorance.

“What are you talking about?”

I was half aware that Zico had pulled himself up off the floor and slid into one of the bar stools next to the kitchen island.

“You did this thing like,” Mino faked a slightly higher voice to mimic me,“Seunghoon?” He then slowly ran his tongue over his lower lip, exaggerating the lasciviousness.

I couldn’t help but smirk. He had finally cleared away the stain.

Zico chuckled, drawing Mino’s annoyed gaze.

“What?”

“You two are cute when you flirt like this,” Zico shrugged. “So Bobby and Hoon are coming over?”

“Not if she’s going to be like this,” Mino grumbled, dipping his fingers back into the kimchi.

It was worse than the first time. He was pouting now, creating a downward turn in his lips for the juice to flow along.

“I should text Soo-Ah and see what she thinks,” I hurried out of the kitchen to where I had left my backpack.

I heard Zico laughing again and the sound of Mino muttering quietly. He was too quiet for me to hear, but I caught Zico’s response.

“It’s like you don’t even have eyes man.”

I pressed my hands against my cheeks. Had Zico noticed me looking at Mino like that? Why had I been looking at him like that anyway? I took a deep breath and unlocked my phone.

To: Sooooo AH! Bobby wants to join us.

From: Sooooo AH! I know.

To: Sooooo AH! And Seunghoon.

To: Sooooo AH! Wait how do you know?

From: Sooooo AH! He texted me to ask if I was with you and the dog.

I blinked at my phone. I had no idea how to process that information.

From: Sooooo AH! I told him I was fine with him coming and to ask you guys.

At the same time that I received her message, I heard Mino call out from the kitchen.

“Bobby says he already asked Soo-Ah!”

I traipsed back into the kitchen, shaking my head.

“Yeah, she mentioned as much.” I gestured towards Zico, who was now snoring slightly, slouched over onto the island. “What’s with him?”

“I think this is the first time he’s left his studio since,” Mino looked uncomfortable, “since you know… that night. My show.”

“Really? That was nearly a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s why I made him take a shower at my place before we picked you up.”

I looked over the sleeping man. The sight of him, so exhausted that he was asleep on my countertop, triggered my caretaker instincts.

“Is he wearing your clothes?”

“How can you tell?”

“He’s skinnier than you. Come on,” I approached the unconscious rapper, “help me move him to the sofa.”

Since Zico was in one of his skinnier states, it turned out that the most help I needed from Mino was just making sure that he didn’t slip out of the chair when I pulled him onto my back.

Mino tried to protest, offering to carry his friend. I just shook my head at him.

“Go get the blanket from the guest room. It’s the blue door.”

In my attempt to not just drop Zico onto my sofa, I sat first and then laid down with the plan to slip out from between his arms that were over my shoulders.

“Jussa minute…” I heard him mumble nearly directly into my ear. The sleepy words were followed by his arms tightening around my body and his leg being thrown over my waist.

This must be what teddy bears feel like.

I tried to slowly pry my way out of his grip, but his reaction was just to cling more tightly. For such a skinny guy, he was actually pretty strong.

Mino entered and stopped in his tracks, holding the blanket.

“Really?”

I wanted to shrug, but the python-like grip on my arms stopped me. So I just waved my hands and grimaced.

Mino rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“This is why I offered. You gotta just force your way out. If he’s like this he won’t even wake up.”

I tried wriggling out again, but again Zico’s grip just constricted.

“A little help would be great you know,” I sassed up at Mino.

Mino smirked and moved forward.

“You gotta be quick, don’t give him time to get tight. Like this…”

Mino quickly wedged his knee between Zico’s and mine. Zico groaned in his sleep but relaxed slightly, his body simply accepting the addition to the mix of limbs.

“Okay but my arms aren’t exactly in a strong position.”

“Yeah, yeah, you gotta just…” with a grunt, Mino grabbed Zico’s hands and pulled them up, breaking through the hold they had woven around my arms and stomach. “There. Now you ca-”

Mino’s words cut themselves off, and it was obvious why.

What had started as a purely utilitarian manoeuver left me effectively pinned between the two men. Of course, all that needed to happen was for Mino to pull back so that I could get away, but he was too busy blushing and staring at me.

“Mino…”

His eyes seemed to be studying the way my mouth had formed the word.

“Hmm?”

“We should-”

“Kiss.”

“What?”

“I’m going to kiss you, unless you tell me not to.”

Of all the times for my lips to feel dry.

I licked them quickly before speaking.

“That… I…”

Quickly, Mino dipped down and just barely pressed his lips against mine.

Luckily, unfortunately, Ttungbo started prancing excitedly in front of the door.

By the time Soo-Ah entered the apartment, I was back in the kitchen, getting cups ready for the drinks she had gone out to get. I wasn’t completely certain where Mino was. I had the feeling he was hiding in the bathroom.

“So I had to go back and I picked up some more food since we have extra people coming,” Soo-Ah explained as she placed an improbable number of bags on the kitchen counters. She glanced into the living room.

“He’s really cuddling that blanket. Where’s Mino?”

“Bathroom, I think.”

Soo-Ah started putting cans and bottles into the fridge.

I stood by, chewing on the rim of a plastic cup.

“Why are you being weird?”

I looked at her over the rim of the cup, now held only in my teeth.

“I-aungh-eein-bweer.”

She shot me a serious look, but turned to open up the now cold food.

“Yeah you are. We should microwave this.”

I took the cup out of my mouth and left it on the counter.

“I’ll tell you later. Aft-“

The doorbell buzzed.

I heard someone moving in the hallway, then Mino’s voice.

“I thought it was just going to be you and Bobby.”

I poked my head out to see the rest of Winner in my entry. For a second, I felt disconnected from my body.

“Should I order more food?”

“No! We brought some, unlike this rude kid,” Jinwoo exclaimed, holding up grocery bags.

“Where’s Bobby?” I asked.

“Why are you all here?” Mino demanded.

“Who’s here?” Soo-Ah called over my shoulder.

“It’s,” I paused, feeling silly saying it, “Winner.”

“What? All of them?” Soo-Ah pushed past me to peer at the men now carefully removing their shoes and jackets.

“Bobby will be here soon,” Seungyoon explained, handing me a bag full of pre-sliced fruit. He leaned in and gave me a quick hug.

Unsure how to react I just kind of nodded into it.

“Where’s the kitchen?” Jinwoo’s clear voice cut through the quiet argument Mino and Seungyoon were having.

“It’s here,” I jerked my head to indicate the door that Soo-Ah was still standing in.

I felt a hand clasp my shoulder.

“Why is it so loud in here?”

Zico stood next to me, cheeks slightly puffy, rubbing his arm over his eyes.

“The kids are here.”

“Kids? We’re the same age, aren’t we?” Jinwoo protested, wide eyed.

“Are we?” I flattened myself against the wall to let Seungyoon and Zico greet each other.

“1991,” Jinwoo said brightly.

“Ah, I’m 1990. Here,” I slipped into the kitchen, “no crowd.”

“I see,” Jinwoo followed me, “I thought you were younger than everyone in Big Bang.”

Jinwoo quickly situated himself over my stove. He kept apologising for having tagged along, and insisted on cooking to make up for it. He would scold Soo-Ah and I, and elbow Mino away, whenever we offered help.

Seungyoon and Zico stayed in the living room, talking over the boxing match I had put on from my TiVo.

Bobby joined us, accompanied by coffees and cake.

“Yahhhhh noona! Why do you have so many men in your house?!”

“Says the man coming into my house,” I shot back.

“That’s different,” Bobby whined, “you’re my new sister, I’m your annoying little brother.”

I thought about it, then nodded.

“That seems accurate. As for these guys,” I shrugged, “I think they were just bored.”

“Exactly,” Seunghoon chimed in from his position on one of my bar stools.

Ttungbo was sitting at Hoon’s feet, excitedly waiting for him to “accidentally” drop some food.

I could hear Soo-Ah in the living room, explaining that she had dated one of the boxers to Mino.

“- all his time training, but never the muscles that count, you know?”

“I’ll be right back,” I left Bobby to find his own place in the apartment.

The table in front of Soo-Ah was littered with empty cans. She swayed slightly in her seat, gripping Mino’s forearm tightly.

Mino looked like he had just been politely nodding along to whatever Soo-Ah said.

“Alright unnie,” I grabbed her hands and hoisted her up to her feet, “no more penis stories. Time for water.”

“Penis stories?”

I looked over at a surprised Bobby.

“She’s drunk,” I explained.

“I’m not drunk,” Soo-Ah protested, “I’m wasted.”

Soo-Ah broke into a fit of giggles then, throwing herself into my shoulder.

“My mistake. Bobby, go get me some water for her.”

I slowly directed Soo-Ah into the kitchen, and into one of the proper chairs.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

“No! No!” Mino loudly interjected, “we are not doing this!”

I looked up at him, brows cinched.

“It’s just a question.”

“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about them,” he pointed at Seungyoon and Zico.

Seungyoon made an offended face, spreading his arms wide. Zico just laughed.

“Why?”

“Well first he,” Mino pointed at Zico, “will take his shirt off to show off. Then he,” an energetic gesture towards Seungyoon, “will start asking about yours. At which point one of them,” he pointed back and forth between the two of them, “will suggest you take something off to show us your tattoos.”

Seunghoon was still pretending to be offended, but Zico just shrugged.

“I don’t mind if everyone takes their shirts off,” Soo-Ah mumbled from where she was lying on my lap. “Here,” she started to sit up, “I’ll start.”

“No! Nope, no no no…” I quickly grabbed her and pulled her head back to my lap, “you don’t even have tattoos unnie.”

“This kind of thing is exactly what I was trying to avoid,” Mino complained.

“Why though?” Bobby piped up. “I swear hyung, you’re so weird sometimes.”

Soo-Ah, who had been muttering about how she could have a tattoo if she wanted to, sat back up again.

“We should go get tattoos right now!”

“No sweetie,” I once again pulled her to lying down, “you can’t get one when you’re drunk. Besides, you nearly passed out when you came with me last time.”

“That was from shock. I didn’t think you had your nip-mmmph!”

I clasped my hand over her mouth, muffling her words.

“She didn’t think you had your… what?” Zico prodded.

I shot him the White People Smile™️ and kept quiet. Soo-Ah tore my hand off her mouth.

“Nipples! She ha-ugh!”

I clamped my other hand over her mouth.

“Oh man that Pacquiao is he a sportsman or what?!”

Bobby looked mortified, but quickly picked up my cue.

“Yeah dude, he definitely punches hard!”

“I heard he went into politics!” I continued, struggling to keep Soo-Ah’s mouth covered.

“I don’t know about that but I don’t want to stop talking to cover what she said!” Bobby replied

“Shit man,” I let go of Soo-Ah, “you bit me!”

“You were suffocating me!”

“I could feel your pulse,” I shrugged, “you were fine.”

Jinwoo was doing the dishes, and Seunghoon was now sitting on the floor with Ttungbo.

“Sounds rowdy in there,” Jinwoo commented when I entered the room.

“That is definitely… accurate.”

“Yeah who has their nipples what?” Hoon asked.

“It’s,” I shook my head, “nothing. It’s nothing.”

“I bet it’s Zico,” Jinwoo said, “he seems like he’d get them pierced.”

I helped Jinwoo put everything away, despite his protests.

“We just barged into your house, it’s really the least I can do.”

I smiled graciously, hearing my phone go off in the hallway.

“You’re precious Jinwoo.”

Jinwoo pulled a quick flower pose while I stepped out of the kitchen to get my phone.

“Stop flirting so much,” Mino scolded his hyung, bringing dirty dishes into the kitchen.

“Stop giving me more work to do,” Jinwoo quipped.

“I’ll help hyung, I’ll help.”

I smiled at their bickering, then remembered that I needed to check my phone.

From: Lyong Boho Are you still with Daesung right now?

I paused over the message. Jiyong seemed to be able to tell when I was being evasive, even over text. Half of the truth might be my best bet.

To: Lyong Boho No. I stopped by my apartment to see Soo-Ah and Ttungbo.

From: Lyong Boho Ttungbo??

To: Lyong Boho My dog.

From: Lyong Boho I didn’t know you have a dog.

From: Lyong Boho When are you coming back?

From: Lyong Boho I wanted to see you.

“Luna?”

I looked up at Mino, leaning out of the kitchen door. My brain brought up the image of him bending down to kiss me. I blinked, trying to chase the memory away.

“Yeah?”

“Where are your trash bags?”

Ah, so that was all he wanted. The slight panic from being somewhat alone with him subsided. I looked back down at my phone.

“They should be in the cabinet under the sink.”

“Who’s messaging you?”

I could tell he was getting closer now, but I didn’t look at him.

“Jiyong.”

“Ah, uh…” he was standing right in front of me now. He lifted a hand to touch my wrist.

“About… before, you know…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I turned, breaking the contact between us, “it’s forgotten. And I won’t tell anyone.”

“Noona, we s-”

“Mino! Did you find the bags yet?”

“Go help Jinwoo.”

Mino hesitated, looking over my face for an extra second before turning back to the kitchen.

“They’re under the sink hyung.”

To: Lyong Boho I’ll be heading back soon.

To: Lyong Boho I’ll text you when I get back.

It was a good thing that Jiyong had texted when he did. It was getting late, and I had to herd these bored celebrities out of my apartment.

When I went back to the living room I saw that Bobby had taken my spot as Soo-Ah’s pillow. He was staring into his phone, scrolling through something or other, but his free hand was gently stroking the now sleeping Soo-Ah’s hair.

“That’s adorable, but I gotta start kicking you all out.”

Seungyoon sighed, but stood up.

“That’s fair. You want help cleaning up?”

“Yes! She does!” Jinwoo’s voice came across the hall and into the room.

“Ears of a dog that one,” Zico grumbled as he pulled himself off the sofa. “I like this blanket. Where’d you get it?”

“I made it,” I shrugged, “two months of knitting.”

With everyone’s help, the apartment was back to a livable standard fairly quickly. The only person who seemed actually annoyed about being asked to leave was Bobby.

“Are you sure she’ll be okay on her own?”

I had my arms wide, herding the protesting rapper towards the exit.

“She’s fine, she just needs to sleep. Trust me, I know how Soo-Ah works.”

“But what if sh-”

“I said she’s fine,” I nudged him out the door, “I’ll tell her to text you in the morning if you’re that worried, now go.”

I shut the door behind him and rested my back against it. The apartment was eerily quiet after the bubbling noise of having so many people over. I closed my eyes and basked in the silence.

Three loud thumps sounded on my door, jolting me and sending my heartrate skyrocketing. I spun and swung the door open, irritated.

“Bobby, I told… you…” I trailed off.

Mino stood in my doorway. Again the memory of him kissing me pushed the rest of my thoughts away. Behind him, Zico was leaning against the wall opposite my door.

“Don’t you want a ride?” Zico asked.

I bit my tongue. Literally. I dug my teeth into my tongue to suppress voicing the joke that accompanied the image that his words brought to mind -- an evolution of the previous memory.

From: Hugeboy We have to talk about what happened.

To: Hugeboy Not really. I already said I wouldn’t tell anyone.

From: Hugeboy You said it was forgotten.

“Are you guys seriously texting each other inside the same car?” Zico demanded, obviously having pieced together the timing of our typing and the sounds on our phones.

“Hyung…”

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the road? What if we miss our turn again?”

To: Hugeboy Exactly. No worries.

From: Hugeboy No. I don’t want to forget.

I looked up and caught Mino’s eye in the mirror on his sun visor. He stared at me intently, waiting for my reply. He looked tired, but also expectant.

Hoping that the darkness outside hid my blush, I turned my attention back to my phone.

To: Hugeboy Don’t be ridiculous.

I saw his ear move as he clenched and released his jaw.

“Stop grinding your teeth dude,” Zico muttered.

From: Hugeboy So that’s it? I’m supposed to just forget?

Annoyed by his refusal to see the bigger picture, I resorted to speaking aloud.

“It should never have happened.”

I saw Mino’s eyes widen, then cast down at his phone. A second later my phone chimed.

From: Hugeboy Did you not want me to?

I read the message over a few times. Lying would only cause problems.

“I didn’t say that…”

Mino turned in his seat to look at directly.

“Then why are we pretending?”

“Is this about you two kissing?” Zico interrupted, “you have to pretend because she’s under contract. You know how it is Mino,”

“You knew that we kissed?” I stared at Zico in shock. Had he been more awake than we thought?

“No,” he flashed a smile at me through his rear view mirror, “I just knew something happened since you two were acting weird all night.”

“No we weren’t!” Mino protested. “You just took a shot in the dark!”

“Yeah we were,” I corrected him. “We could barely make eye contact, and you flipped out about the tattoo thing.”

“Actually, he would have been like that about the tattoos anyway. I think he gets jealous because women always want to see mine.”

“I just don’t like that you always turn it into an excuse to see more skin.”

“It’s a fair trade,” Zico shrugged, “besides, I wasn’t going to. I know how much you like Luna.”

“Oh my god hyung, please stop.”

“I’m right here still,” I rolled my eyes, “anyway Zico is right. We should pretend nothing happened.”

“But it did.”

“So? What? You want to be the one to tell Jiyong about it?”

“Jiyong huh? Figures,” Zico sounded contemptuous. “He would be the one, wouldn’t he?”

I didn’t feel like getting into that particular jar of pickles, so I just rolled my eyes.

“Whatever that means.”

Zico just scoffed. Mino, on the other hand, slouched down in his seat and leaned his head on the window.

The rest of the drive passed in a thick silence.

It was obvious what Mino was pissed about, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I shouldn’t have let anything happen in the first place. Obviously, I should have just said “don’t” when he offered me the option. But I was weak, and what fan hadn’t at least had a passing thought of kissing such an alluring man?

Zico, on the other hand… I had no idea what the issue between him and Jiyong was, but neither of them hid their disdain for the other. I wondered about it for a moment, but decided that it was probably a waste of energy. Professional, personal, a first meeting gone awkward… did it really matter? Dramatic boys… who had time for that?

As for myself, I was annoyed with Jiyong. He only seemed interested in seeing me late at night. The implications were clear, despite the fact that he had impeccable manners. It was like he was following a recipe for intimacy or something. Did being tired make people more open to bonding? It had to. Being wary took energy, and most people were probably out of it after 11pm.

Zico pulled through the garage to drop me off. It was an unexpected move, but made sense. If anyone saw me getting back at this hour with Mino and Zico… well that journalist’s story would practically write itself.

Mino took advantage of the move though. After getting out of the car to let me out, he ducked down to tell Zico it would be a minute. Zico nodded, and pulled into a space not too far away, but far enough to give us some privacy.

“Mino…”

“Just, listen, okay?”

Mino pulled me to stand by a cement pillar, further out of sight of Zico. He only had a few centimetres on me, and he took full advantage of them now, backing me into the pillar.

“Do you really want to forget?”

“Why is this such a problem for you?” I deflected, rolling my shoulders back to look more confident than I felt.

“Noona… just…” Mino flexed his hand in front of his body in annoyance, then leaned in to rest it against the pillar next to me. “Just tell me if you want to forget.”

“It would be better if you forgot.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I tilted my head, and Mino pressed his tongue against his cheek in annoyance. He grit his teeth and asked again, this time emphasising the pertinent pronouns.

“Do you want to forget? Are you going to pretend nothing happened?”

The intensity of the moment trapped my sarcasm before it made it to my mouth.

“No… ah,” I faltered as relief flooded his eyes and he quickly dipped his tongue over his lips. “But… I am going to pretend nothing happened.”

“That’s… okay,” Mino nodded. “That makes sense.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“Now, what do you want me to do?”

“What?”

“Should I forget? Should I delete your number? Or,” he leaned in closer, making me pull back until my head hit the cement behind me, then went a few centimetres further, “should I just get you when I can?”

“Get…”

I meant it as a question, I think. Mino, perhaps just being hopeful, appeared to take it as an answer.

His fingers curled into the hair at my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw as he ran his teeth over my bottom lip.

This couldn’t be a worse idea.

“I’m back.”

“Can I come up?”

I didn’t answer immediately, just staring into my bathroom mirror. Did I look like I had been kissed? Is that even a thing that could be ascertained by looking at someone? I lifted my hand to pat at my lip, trying to work out if there were teeth marks or not.

“Jagi?”

“Oh,” I snapped back to the conversation with Jiyong, “uh… I’m just tired. Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if I can come up. I miss you.”

Would I be a bad person if I said he could come? Would it give it away if I said that he couldn’t? I cleared my throat to buy time and try to clear the last few hours out of the equation. What would be the most normal response?

“Um… sure, if you want. But I’m not going to be very good company. I’ll probably just fall asleep.”

“That’s fine. I just want to be with you.”

“What are you listening to?”

I wasn’t even surprised that Jiyong had let himself in. Turning onto my side, I observed him from my bed. I had to smile at him.

The pajama pants he had on were covered in pink strawberries, but his shirt was some pre-worn metal band t-shirt.

“Frogs. My mom recorded them for me.”

Jiyong carefully climbed over me, laying down to tuck himself around my back.

“Feeling homesick?”

I nodded, then shook my head.

“Maybe, I don’t know. I think I just miss Ttungbo.”

“Soo-Ah is taking care of him well, right?” Jiyong muttered the words into my neck, nuzzling in close as he drew his arms around me.

For a second I felt like I had been trapped by a sleeping Zico again. The feeling of Jiyong’s hardness against my backside chased that thought away.

Neither of us immediately addressed it, and he didn’t bother acting embarrassed. Rather, the both of us just laid in silence — I wondering if it was too late (and if I even wanted) to start discouraging Mino; Jiyong gently exploring my shoulder with his lips.

“Ji?”

“Mmm?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t come up here like this.”

Jiyong unwrapped himself from my body and pulled me onto my back. He leaned over me, keeping concerned eye contact.

“Why not? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “it feels like you’re trying to skip the dating parts and go straight for the comfortable intimacy of a two year relationship.”

His brow creased as he digested my words.

“I’m too comfortable?”

“Yeah. It feels like we’ve been together for ages, not that we met two weeks ago.”

“True,” Jiyong nodded, then rested his cheek on my stomach. We were both silent, left to work out what we were doing with ourselves. After about three minutes, Jiyong spoke up again.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

I knew what he was getting at, but I didn’t buy it. At least not right then. Whatever feelings I had been developing for, and with, Jiyong were decidedly shaken up. I had been pretty confident, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I would end this show with Jiyong. Was that naive of me? If I was willing to let Mino interlope that way, maybe I was wrong.

Or maybe I was wrong to think that anything that happened in, or around, the show actually meant anything.

“Luna?” Jiyong lifted his head, calling me out of my thoughts.

I blinked, my eyes dry from staring at the ceiling while riding the doubt cycle.

“Hmm?”

“You’re worrying again.”

I scrunched the pillow under my head up so that I could look down at Jiyong.

“How do you know?”

Jiyong smiled slightly, reaching up and pressing a finger against my forehead, just slightly above my eyes.

“You get a little puff right here when you’re overthinking.”

I laughed. My aunt used to call it my “worry pouch” when I was little. I had forgotten about it until Jiyong pointed it out.

Jiyong smiled, wrapping his arms back around me, rubbing his cheek against my stomach.

“I know that everything seems a little fake,” he paused to grip my shirt in his teeth, inefficiently lifting it so he could kiss my stomach, “but I don’t believe in playing with people’s feelings.”

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