#keonho

[imbatmanpoperoni]

Note to self: Do NOT eat chicken and then chugg water u WILLLLL throw up 0/10 do nit recommend

[lovhyeon]

champagne borrowed & someone blue

— ahn keonho

pairing. groomsman keonho / f ! reader

warnings + info. one shot, fluff, love at first sight (kono...), banter heavy, intoxication (alc), he down BAAAD, non-idol au, wedding setting

synopsis. truth is, keonho was just trying to get through the wedding without dying of boredom. james getting married at the ripe age of 20 was not on his list of group activities this year. turns out all it took was you and a bottle of champagne to keep him afloat.

wc. 6.7k

LISTEN TO... you by radiohead ... the perfect pair by beabadoobee ... nomad by clairo ... lovers rock by tv girl

maddy's note. thank you to my most creative child nana banana for the idea i love you 💓 & here is keonana @bananagirl222 !! also TAOR is coming soon pls dont fret i just need a refresher okay bless all of you and ur patient souls 🤞👼👼

ps. hi ivy this my ode to miyo #weloveyouteacup 💌🫖

lovhyeon © 2026 ⸻ ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO ME

"You may now kiss the bride."

Keonho thought that love probably worked the way songwriting did. You couldn't force it. The second you tried to make something fit before it was ready, it stopped sounding true, and you ended up with a song that technically rhymed and meant absolutely nothing.

He'd believed that since he was maybe sixteen, sitting on the floor of a practice room with a guitar he didn't know how to play yet, some half-finished melody looping in his head that he couldn't get to land no matter how hard he forced the chords underneath it. 

It had taken him weeks to figure out that the problem wasn't the chords. The problem was that he was trying to write something before it existed yet.

He still believed it now, sitting in a pew in a chapel that smelled like candle wax and old wood and, faintly, the lavender someone had tucked into the flower arrangements. James was up at the altar in a suit that fit him a little too well, kissing a woman he'd known for eleven months, and the whole room had gone soft and anticipating the way church halls do at that exact moment, everyone leaning forward without meaning to.

He wasn't against the idea of a soulmate.

In fact, he was fully on board with the concept, actually, had been since he was a kid watching his parents slow dance around the kitchen to nothing. There was no music at all, just the two of them swaying because they felt like it.

He just thought a soulmate should get to exist for a while before you legally attached yourself to them in front of two hundred people and a priest who'd never met either of you before this week. 

He had a rule about it. Nothing official, nothing he'd ever admitted out loud to the guys, but a rule nonetheless, something he'd built for himself the way you build any rule you actually intend to keep.

He wasn't getting married before twenty-four. Twenty-four felt like the age where a person finally figured out what specific kind of idiot they were, the age where you'd made enough mistakes to know your own patterns, could see them coming before they arrived. (It was also the closest thing to his birthday number.)

He'd never bothered explaining the logic to anyone because there wasn't much of one beyond that. It was a number he'd decided to trust as a teenager and never questioned since, the same way some people trusted a lucky pair of socks or refused to walk under ladders, superstition dressed up as strategy.

So he sat there in a chapel on some sprawling ranch property, in a suit that was already too warm for the weather, watching his bandmate promise forever to someone he'd met less than a year ago, feeling some sort of mix of happy-for-him and are-you-actually-out-of-your-mind that he figured most people felt at weddings they were too young to be standing up in as anything other than a witness. 

And then he turned his head, just slightly, meaning to check on James's mom in the front row, who'd been crying since the doors opened. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue his cousin kept handing her, because that felt like the kind of thing a good groomsman should notice and mention later, something to bring up at the reception.

That was the plan, anyway. Instead his eyes caught on you first, three rows back on the bride's side, in a pale yellow dress, laughing quietly at something the kid beside you had whispered, your hand coming up to cover your mouth like you were trying not to be the loud one during someone's vows and failing slightly anyway.

He completely lost the thread of whatever he'd been about to think about James's mom. He didn't look away fast enough.

You caught him looking. Just for a second, your eyes flicking up and landing right on his before he managed to arrange his face into something less obvious, something less like a man who'd just forgotten his own best friend was getting married four feet in front of him.

You didn't smile, not right away. You just held his gaze a moment longer than a stranger indifferent would, like you were deciding whether he was worth being annoyed at for staring, weighing it, and then you looked back toward the altar like nothing had happened, leaving him to sit there with his heart doing something stupid and immediate that he had absolutely no name for yet.

Keonho faced forward too, and thought, with an alarming amount of certainty, that he could get married today. Right now. 

Fuck twenty-four, forget the rule, forget every piece of logic he'd built the last several years of his dating life around. He didn't know James's fiancée, wife now, he supposed, all that well, had met her maybe four times total, but apparently her family had been hiding an angel like that the entire time, tucked away three rows back in a chapel.

Nobody had warned him one of them would look like you did in a pew, laughing quietly at a kid's joke during someone else's vows like the whole ceremony was a secret only the two of you were in on.

He leaned toward Juhoon, who was standing beside him in full groomsman formation, hands folded. He was doing his best impression of a man taking this seriously, which was more than could be said for Keonho at the moment.

"Who is that?" he whispered.

Juhoon didn't even turn his head. "The cousin. Ivy's cousin."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I was listening when James went through the whole seating chart, and you were on your phone."

"I was talking to my mom."

"You were sobbing about your dog, dude."

"That's not—okay, fair, but I was also talking to my mom while it happened, so it still counts as listening. Technically."

Juhoon, mercifully, offered nothing else, mostly because the officiant had picked that exact moment to ask James if he took Ivy to be his lawfully wedded whatever, and James's voice cracked so badly on the word "always" that half the chapel made a collective sound like some kind of interactive audience. Someone's grandmother actually sniffled out loud, three pews back, loud enough to make a few people laugh through their own tears.

Keonho tried, genuinely, to focus on his best friend getting married. He really did.

But his eyes kept sliding three rows back, and every single time they did, you were doing something new. Adjusting the flower crown someone had clearly forced onto your head. Whispering to the kid again, some private joke passed back and forth. Catching him looking and this time not bothering to pretend you hadn't noticed, just raising an eyebrow at him like, are you gonna keep doing that the whole ceremony? He absolutely was. 

He thought, watching you, that he was going to marry a stranger's cousin, and then, a second later, that this was genuinely psychotive behavior and he should probably get it together before the reception even started.

Of course, he thought about it anyway for the rest of the ceremony, all the way through the ring exchange and the unity candle and the part where James's little brother dropped the pillow with the rings on it and had to scramble under a pew to retrieve it, and Keonho did not feel even a little bit sorry about any of it.

Three hours earlier, in the room where the groomsmen were getting dressed, Seonghyeon had made an announcement to the whole room while doing up his cufflinks in the mirror, checking his own reflection from three different angles like the room owed him a fourth opinion. The room wasn't just the band, either.

James's actual family had spilled into it too somewhere around the second hour, an uncle helping with someone's tie because apparently nobody under thirty in that family knew how to tie a full Windsor, his younger cousin arguing with his mom about whether the boutonnieres matched the exact shade of the bridesmaids' dresses or just a shade close enough that nobody but her would notice, a cousin filming everything for some group chat back home, narrating in a whisper like he was covering a sporting event.

The whole space was loud in the way rooms get right before something important happens, everyone talking over everyone else. It was all nervous jitters with nowhere to go, cologne and hairspray thick enough in the air that Martin had opened a window twenty minutes in and gotten yelled at for letting the air inside.

"Calling it now," Seonghyeon had announced, loud enough to cut through all of it, still watching himself in the mirror. "Pretty bridesmaids are mine. Whoever gets there first."

"That's not how dibs works," Martin had muttered, not even looking up from his phone.

"Are you slow? It's exactly how dibs works."

"You can't call dibs on a person, you absolute caveman."

"Watch me."

Keonho hadn't looked up either, though for entirely different reasons than Martin, because Keonho had been fully losing it on the phone in the corner, back pressed against the wall like he needed the support, one hand gripping his hair, the other holding his phone so tight his knuckles had gone pale. H

e'd been entirely too consumed by his own personal crisis to register anything Seonghyeon was declaring war on across the room.

"He did WHAT," he'd hissed into the phone, loud enough that James’ uncle, tying his own tie two feet away, had actually paused to look over.

"He peed on your Jordans," his mom had repeated, very calmly, like this was a completely normal Tuesday update and not a war crime committed against his sneaker collection. "The pink ones. I tried to catch him but he was already—"

"Mom. Mom. Those were limited edition. I saved for those. I waited in line for those."

"I know, baby, I'm sorry. He seemed very apologetic about it, if that helps."

"It does not help."

In the background he could hear Cookie panting happily, no remorse whatsoever, a dog fully at peace with his crimes, tags jingling against his collar as he presumably trotted around the kitchen looking for something else to ruin.

Keonho had demanded, with the seriousness of a man twice his age handling actual legal proceedings, that his mom hold the phone up to the dog's ear so he could hiss "you ruined my life" directly into the receiver. Cookie received this with total indifference, maybe even a happier bark, like the whole conversation was a game he was winning.

That was the entire reason he'd missed Seonghyeon's declaration of territory on the bridesmaids. He'd been too busy crashing out over a dog and a pair of shoes to register anything else happening around him, and he hadn't thought about it again until the ceremony ended and he was standing in a reception tent that smelled like hay and candle wax.

Scanning the crowd for no reason he could name yet, and he saw you across the room, and thought, with something close to actual panic, please tell me Seonghyeon didn't see her first.

The reception was outside, past the chapel, under a tent strung with lights someone had clearly spent an entire day getting perfectly even, the sort of lighting job that only happens when somebody's mother has strong feelings about symmetry. 

Beyond the tent sat a barn converted into something with a dance floor and a bar, string lights wrapped around every visible beam. Past that, if you looked far enough into the dark, real stables with real horses shifting occasionally against their stalls, plus a small pen holding two pigs that James's future father-in-law apparently kept as pets, for reasons nobody had bothered explaining to any of the guests, least of all Keonho, who'd spent a solid five minutes earlier just staring at them like they might explain themselves eventually.

“Keonho, those are pigs. P-I-G-S.”

“Martin.”

“Like… bacon. Oink oink– how do you still not kn–”

“Can you shut up, I fucking know they’re pi–” 

Keonho was in the midst of flicking Martin off when he saw the love of his life again. You.

He felt like some ripoff Joe Goldberg with the way he observed every single little thing you did. You, with your contagious smile and your silly way of trying to make someone’s newborn baby laugh and your teaching your uncle how to dance Gangnam style. He was noticing things and he usually didn’t.

You'd taken the flower crown off at some point and it hung off your wrist like a bracelet now, and someone, a little cousin or a sibling, some kid with a marker and zero respect for personal space, had drawn what was either meant to be a horse or a deeply confused dog on the inside of your forearm, along with a few stars and something that could've been a heart or could've been a poorly attempted flower. You kept glancing down at it like you'd forgotten it was there, then remembered, then smiled a little to yourself. It was private in a way that made Keonho feel like he was watching something he wasn't quite supposed to see.

He couldn't stop watching you do it anyway. It was becoming a genuine problem.

"That's her," Martin announced, appearing at Keonho's elbow with two drinks and handing him one without asking, the ice already half melted from however long he'd been carrying it around looking for Keonho. "The one you keep staring at like she owes you rent money or some shit."

"I'm not staring."

"You've looked over there four times in the last minute. I counted."

"You counted my staring? Man, that's worse than the staring itself."

"I'm bored. James's busy being a married man now." Martin took a sip of his drink, watching Keonho over the rim of the glass with the patient, unbothered look of a man who had absolutely nothing better to do all night. "So who is she?"

"Ivy's cousin."

"You gonna talk to her, or keep doing that thing where you look and then look away too fast, like you got caught doing something illegal."

Seonghyeon chose that exact moment to walk over, tie already loosened, jacket somewhere else entirely. He looked far too pleased with himself for a boy who'd just spent forty minutes doing the electric slide with someone's grandmother and, from the state of his hair, possibly lost a bet along the way.

The second his eyes found you across the tent, something in Keonho's chest went instantly, embarrassingly territorial, even though he hadn't said a single word to you yet and you weren't a thing that could be claimed based on who'd noticed you first, regardless of whatever Seonghyeon had shouted into a mirror three hours ago.

"Oh," Seonghyeon crowed. "Called it."

"You didn't call anything. You said a general sentence about bridesmaids."

"I said pretty bridesmaids are mine, and she is, unquestionably, a pretty bridesmaid."

"She's not even a bridesmaid, she's family."

"Even better."

"Seonghyeon." Keonho set his drink down on the nearest table, having apparently decided, somewhere between one breath and the next, that he was doing this now, immediately, before he could talk himself out of it. "I'm gonna go say hi."

"Say hi from me too," Seonghyeon called after him, entirely too pleased with himself, and Keonho didn't even bother turning around to answer, just raised a middle finger over his shoulder as he walked off toward the buffet table, weaving between two of James's aunts who were deep in conversation about the flower arrangements.

He found you there, plate in hand, surveying the food like you were making a real decision instead of picking off a wedding spread, tilting your head slightly at the chafing dishes like one of them spoke to your soul. He came up beside you, grabbed a plate of his own, and did his best to sound casual, which took considerably more effort than it should have for someone who'd once performed in front of thousands of people without breaking a sweat.

"Bride or groom's side?" he asked.

You glanced over, clearly knowing that he already knew the answer, seeing as he'd been standing at the front of a chapel in a matching blazer less than an hour earlier. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Bride," you offered slowly, playing along anyway. "You?"

"Groom. Guess that makes us enemies."

"Guess it does. I'll try not to take it personally."

"Appreciate the maturity." You scooped mac and cheese onto your plate before you even touched the salad, spooning a generous portion without any of the polite hesitation most people performed at weddings, and Keonho silently decided that was correct behavior and possibly a sign, though a sign of what he wasn't entirely sure yet.

"You're one of the guys in the band, right," you said, glancing at his lapel pin like it might confirm something. "Ivy mentioned it. Said James's marrying into some very funny, very loud family band situation."

"That's us. Very funny, very loud. Me, funniest to be specific.” He looked down at his own plate and realized, with some embarrassment, that it currently held three deviled eggs and nothing else, the rest of the buffet apparently forgotten the second he'd spotted you across the tent. “My name’s Keonho."

"Keonho," you repeated back at him, testing it, like you were trying the shape of it in your mouth. "Strong name for a guy currently holding a plate with three deviled eggs and nothing else on it."

"I was gonna get more. I got distracted."

"By the eggs?"

"By you, actually, but I didn't want to say that on our first conversation, so let's go with the eggs."

You laughed. To his surprise, it was a real one, loud enough that a couple people glanced over from the next table, and somewhere in his chest, a feeling like something tugged at his strings settled.

"Bold move for someone you met ten seconds ago," you told him.

"I have my moments."

"You have three deviled eggs."

"I can have moments and deviled eggs. Both things are allowed to be true at once," he offered, and you rolled your eyes, but you were still smiling when you turned back to the buffet, and he counted that as a win worth remembering.

Dinner was assigned seating, apparently, which nobody had bothered to tell Keonho, because he walked straight up to the table you'd sat down at, pulled out the chair across from you, and dropped into it like it belonged to him, setting his plate down with a finality that suggested the matter was already settled.

You looked up, fork halfway to your mouth. "What are you doing? We have assigned tables."

"I don't see anyone here."

"There's a card. Right there. With a name on it."

"I can't read."

"You're in a band. You write lyrics."

"I hum them. Very different skill set."

You stared at him for a second, clearly fighting a smile and losing badly, then reached over and flipped the little place card face-down without breaking eye contact, like you were making an executive decision and daring him to argue with it.

"There," you declared. "Now nobody can prove anything."

"See, this is why I sat here. I could tell you were a problem solver."

"I could tell you were a menace within thirty seconds of meeting you."

"That's the fastest anyone's ever figured me out. Impressive."

The conversation kept easy after that, drifting through the band, your job, a story about the last wedding you'd been a bridesmaid at where the groom's dog had eaten part of the cake before the reception even started and spent the rest of the night refusing to make eye contact with anyone, clearly aware of what he'd done. Keonho told you about the time James had tried to write a song entirely in falsetto to impress a girl in high school and ended up losing his voice for three days right before a talent show. 

You told him about your job in a way that made it sound more interesting than you probably thought it was, and he found himself actually listening, asking follow-up questions he genuinely wanted the answers to instead of just waiting for his turn to talk again.

He found himself laughing more in the space of one dinner course than he usually did in a week, the laughing that made his cheeks hurt in a way he didn't mind at all, and by the time the toasts started, he'd stopped tracking how long you'd been talking, which felt weird in a way he wasn't ready to examine yet.

Keonho lost track of you somewhere around the first dance, pulled onto the floor for a photo James insisted on, then handed a shot by Seonghyeon that he hadn't asked for and drank anyway out of some misplaced sense of obligation, coughing slightly at the burn while Seonghyeon laughed at him. By the time he'd extracted himself from both, you weren't at the table anymore, your chair pushed in neatly like you'd meant to be gone a while.

He found you eventually outside the tent, past the string lights, near the edge of the property where it got dark enough to actually see stars. The phone pressed to your ear, free arm wrapped around yourself against the cold, your voice carrying just far enough for him to catch the tail end of something before he registered what he was hearing.

"—no, I know, but you said you'd be here," you were saying, voice tighter than it had been all night. "You were supposed to be my plus one, that was the whole point of—no. No, I'm not doing this right now, I'm at a wedding."

Keonho slowed, unsure whether to turn back or risk making it worse by staying, but you'd already snapped, "Whatever. Forget it. Have a good fucking night," and hung up before whoever was on the other end could respond, standing there for a second with the phone still pressed to your ear like you were bracing for it to ring again anyway, your shoulders drawn up around your ears.

He cleared his throat quietly, enough to give you a second before he actually approached. "You good?" he asked, and you turned, and for a moment there was something in your face you were trying to smooth over before he could catch it clearly, but you weren't fast enough.

"Fine," you murmured. "Just a whole thing. Doesn't matter."

He didn't push. He'd learned a long time ago that pushing rarely helped and mostly just taught people to hide better next time, so instead he reached behind his back, having had the foresight somewhere around the third toast to swipe a bottle off the drinks table and stash it near the stables for later, telling himself at the time it was for the guys, for some after-party moment that hadn't materialized yet and, he suspected now, had never really been the plan at all.

"Pretty sure you need this more than I do," he offered, holding it out.

"Where the hell did you even get that?"

"Stole it. Don't tell James's father-in-law."

"You stole a bottle of champagne from a wedding."

"It was gonna be for the guys, but honestly, they've had enough tonight. This feels like a better use of it."

You studied him for a second, deciding whether to let the moment be lighter than it currently was, and something in your shoulders finally dropped as you took the bottle from him, your fingers brushing his for just a second longer than necessary.

"Fine," you muttered. "But you're drinking it with me. I'm not doing this alone in a field like an alcoholic loner."

"That's the least alcoholic loner way I've ever heard someone describe drinking stolen champagne in a field."

"Low bar," you shot back, and led the way toward the stables without waiting to see if he'd follow, which he did, immediately, without a second of hesitation, matching his stride to yours in the dark.

You ended up on an overturned crate near the stables, close enough to hear the horses shifting around inside, the occasional soft huff of breath through their noses, close enough that you had to sit with your shoulders pressed together to both fit, which neither of you mentioned or moved to fix. Passing the bottle back and forth since neither of you had bothered finding glasses, your hand found his every time without either of you really looking, fingers grazing over fingers in the handoff, lingering a half second longer each time like the two of you were testing how long you could get away with it. 

The reception noise carried faintly behind you, string lights and laughter and someone's aunt winning an argument about karaoke, but out here it was quieter, just the two of you, a couple of horses, and the occasional deeply unbothered grunt from the pigs somewhere off to the left, entirely unconcerned with anyone's romantic evening.

The bottle emptied slowly between you, and somewhere around the halfway mark, both of you a little looser than you'd been an hour ago, your filters worn thin enough to say things you might not have said sober, the conversation turned real without either of you quite deciding to let it.

"Can I say something and you not repeat it to anyone?" you burped, lowering your voice even though there was nobody around to hear it but the horses.

"Depends what it is."

"This whole thing is freaking insane. Like, rubber room full of rats insane." You gestured with the bottle, a loose sweep that took in the tent, the lights, the whole glowing shape of the property behind you, and nearly lost your grip on it entirely, which set off a fit of giggling that took you a solid few seconds to recover from.

"She's twenty-one, Keonho. Twenty-one. I love her, she's my favorite cousin, we grew up two houses apart, I've known her my whole life, but she's known him less than a year and she's up there in a dress that costs more than my car, promising forever to a guy she met at a coffee shop."

"They met at a soundcheck, actually, but I take your point."

"Even worse. That's not romantic, that's like the workplace."

He laughed at that, properly, loud enough that one of the horses shifted at the sound, a hoof scraping against the stall floor, and you laughed too, harder than the joke probably deserved, leaning sideways into his shoulder like you needed somewhere to put the laughter.

He didn't move away. He watched you instead, the way your whole face changed when you actually meant a laugh instead of just being polite, the little crease that showed up near your eyes, the way you had to press your lips together afterward to stop yourself from starting all over again, and he thought, not for the first time tonight, that he could probably watch you do that for hours and not get bored of it.

"Okay, I'm with you. I've thought the exact same thing since he told me he was proposing. I sat him down, I was like, brother, are you sure, and he looked at me like I'd insulted his entire existence."

"Did it work? Clearly not, given the whole," you gestured again, vaguer this time, the champagne clearly starting to catch up with your coordination, "situation."

"Didn't work at all. He said when you know, you know."

"That's not an answer, that's a bumper sticker."

"That's exactly what I told him. He didn't appreciate it."

"I love her, I do," you went on, tipping your head back against the stable wall, staring up at whatever stars were visible past the string lights, your knee coming to rest against his without either of you commenting on it, "but I've been sitting here all night doing math in my head. Like, is this actually going to last, are they gonna make it to twenty-five without one of them having some kind of quarter-life crisis about everything they gave up so young, the whole life they didn't get to have because they signed up for this one at twenty-one."

Keonho considered that for a second, turning the bottle in his hands, watching the last of the liquid catch the light from the tent behind you. Then he watched you instead, the way the same light caught the side of your face and made you look softer than you probably felt, all that champagne warmth still sitting in your cheeks. It was not adorable. Definitely not.

"To be honest? No idea. Genuinely no idea. But I've decided I'm not allowed to get married before twenty-four, so at least I'll never end up in this exact situation myself."

"Why twenty-four specifically?"

"No real reason. I decided it a long time ago and never had a good enough reason to change my mind since."

"That's either the most mature thing you've said all night or the least mature. I genuinely can't tell which."

"Probably both," he admitted, and then, quieter, almost to himself, something else nearly slipped out with it, something that felt too big and too soon to actually say out loud, and he caught it just in time. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing. I almost said something corny."

"Now you have to say it." You nudged him with your shoulder, insistent, your whole body tipping into the nudge with more force than you probably meant, another giggle escaping before you could stop it.

"Absolutely not. It's gone. Lost to the void."

You narrowed your eyes at him, clearly filing that away to bring up later, and he made a mental note that he'd have to be more careful around you, because you were already better at reading him than he'd expected anyone to be after one bottle of stolen champagne.

"For what my opinion's worth," you said instead, letting him off the hook for now, "I don't think James is a bad guy at all. I just think twenty-one is young to sign your whole life away to anyone, even a good one, even someone you're sure about."

"Yep. Agreed. Completely agreed. He's my best friend and I'd take a bullet for him, but I also think he's out of his mind right now, and I'm allowed to think both those things at the same time."

"So what happens if it doesn't work out."

"Then I write the divorce album," Keonho said immediately, without a shred of hesitation, like he'd been waiting all night for someone to ask.

"You have not."

"I do. I've been planning it since he proposed. The second things go south, I step up, I take over lead songwriting duties, I turn his whole heartbreak into our best record yet. Every great band needs a devastating breakup album eventually. It's basically already written in my head. It’s gonna be Radiohead inspired. You know how depressing that shit is."

"Oh my god, stop." You reached over and swatted his arm, then left your hand there afterward, resting just above his elbow like you'd forgotten to take it back, still laughing while you did it, which undercut the whole thing completely. "You cannot be planning your best friend's divorce album at his own wedding, that's genuinely deranged behavior."

"I'm not planning it! I'm just… prepared for it. There's a difference."

"There is not a difference."

"There's a small difference."

"You're a horrible person."

"I'm a realist. Someone has to think ahead while the rest of you are all busy crying like babies at the vows."

You hit him again, lighter this time, still laughing, your hand staying on his arm afterward instead of pulling back, and he decided he could get used to being hit like that on a semi-regular basis if it meant getting that exact laugh out of you every single time, and getting to feel your hand stay where it landed.

The conversation drifted looser after that, the way conversations do once two people have decided they like each other and stopped trying quite so hard to prove it. Your giggling came easier now, quicker to arrive and slower to fade, the two of you tipping toward each other more than either of you probably noticed.

"What's your sign," you asked out of nowhere, swirling what was left of the champagne in the bottle, your words starting to blur softly at their edges.

"Why does that matter?"

"It matters completely. It's basically the only real information about a person."

"Fine. Aquarius."

You made a small, considering sound, taking note without much commentary at first, taking another sip like the conversation might be over already, your eyes still on him over the top of the bottle in a way that made it hard for him to look anywhere else.

"That's it? No commentary?"

"I'm thinking."

"Think faster, you're killing me."

"Fine. It tracks. Slightly unpredictable, thinks he's smarter than everyone in the room, probably says something weird and then acts like he didn't say anything at all."

"That's oddly specific for someone who's known me two hours."

"I have a system," you offered. "What's yours?"

"Libra."

"Oh," he said, grinning slow, watching the way you sat up a little straighter, clearly proud of whatever was coming next. "That explains it."

"Explains what? You don’t know shit about astrology."

"Why you're so sure you're right about everything."

You gasped. "It's not being sure, I’m just correct. It's a Libra thing. We're just morally superior." You said it with total seriousness, chin lifted, and then completely ruined the effect by dissolving into giggles halfway through the sentence, which made him laugh too, mostly at you rather than with you, though you didn't seem to mind the distinction.

"That's not a real astrological trait, you made that up."

"I didn't make it up, it's common knowledge."

"According to who?"

"According to me. I'm a very credible source."

"You're really not."

"I'm the most credible source at this table."

He looked around. "There's no table, we're on a crate."

"And I'm still winning."

"For the record," he said, "my birthday's on Valentine's Day."

You raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of the bottle, and he watched your mouth curve before the rest of your face caught up to it, that half-second where he could tell exactly what you were about to say before you said it. "Does that make you any more romantic than any other guy?"

"Statistically? Probably not."

"Then why'd you bring it up like it should impress me?"

"Habit. It usually gets a reaction. Why do you not care?"

"It got a reaction. The reaction is that I think it's a little sad you're leading with your birthday as a personality trait."

"Brutal." He made a pfft noise with his mouth and pressed his lips together. You were so honest. And perfect.

"I'm a Libra. We're balanced. Brutal and fair, at the same time."

"That's not what balanced means."

"It is if I say it is," you told him, with total conviction and zero evidence to back it up. He decided, watching you say it like it was simply a fact of the universe, your knee still pressed warm against his, your shoulder still tucked into the space beside him like it had always belonged there, that he might genuinely be in trouble here.

"You're not what I expected," you said eventually, once the champagne was nearly gone and the night had gone soft and slow around you both, the string lights blurring slightly at the edges of your vision the way they do after a few drinks, your head tipping toward his shoulder like it had gotten too heavy to hold up on its own.

"What'd you expect."

"I don't know. Guy in a band, more, like," you gestured vaguely, nearly tipping the bottle, "broody. Mysterious. Guitar-face energy."

"I can do guitar-face if you want it."

"Please don't."

"I have a whole face for it. Very attractive. Lots of squinting." He demonstrated, badly, and you laughed so hard you had to grab his arm to steady yourself, your fingers curling around his sleeve, and he stayed very still, very aware of exactly where your hand was and how little he wanted it to move.

"Stop, oh my god."

"I could write a whole song about this exact moment right now. Girl, stables, questionable champagne, pigs actively ruining the mood."

"The pigs aren't ruining the mood."

"They're really not helping it."

You laughed again, winding down into something softer, and he watched you do it, watched the way your smile stayed even after the laugh had faded. Keonho watched the small movement of you tucking a strand of hair behind your ear that had nothing to do with the wind, and thought, not for the first time that night but with more certainty than before, that he might be in real, actual trouble here, the trouble that didn't go away in the morning along with the champagne headache.

Back near the tent, Seonghyeon had clearly been watching for you both to return, because he intercepted you the second you stepped back into the light, arms crossed, grinning like he'd already decided how this story was going to go and just needed you both to catch up to it.

"There she is," he announced. "I was starting to think Keonho scared you off."

"He didn't scare me off," you giggled. "He stole champagne and made me sit near pigs."

"Sounds about right." Seonghyeon looked between the two of you, something a little too knowing in his face. "So, are we still doing the dibs thing, or?"

"There was never a dibs thing," Keonho said. "You made that up three hours ago and no one agreed with you."

"No one disagreed either. I stand by it."

"Well, now you've got no chance with her," Keonho offered, more confident than he had any real right to be.

"You don't know that," Seonghyeon shot back.

"Oh, I don't?" Keonho turned to you, eyebrow raised, already fairly sure of the answer. "You wanna go share a bottle of champagne with him instead?"

You looked between the two of them for a long, deliberately drawn-out second, clearly enjoying making them both wait for it.

"I already used up my one bottle of stolen champagne tonight," you said finally. "Budget's tight."

"See," Keonho gloated and stuck his tongue out at Seonghyeon. "No chance."

Seonghyeon threw up his hands like he'd been personally wronged and wandered off toward the bar, muttering something about betrayal that neither of you bothered chasing down.

"Well, thank you," you murmured, once he was gone, quieter now, the teasing edge from a moment ago softening into something more sincere, your hand finding his arm again like it had a habit of ending up there. "For the champagne. And for not asking about the phone call."

"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to."

"I know. I might, later. Just not tonight."

"Later works for me. I'm not going anywhere."

You looked at him for a second like you were deciding whether to believe that, then smiled. You bumped your shoulder against his as you both started walking back toward the tent, close enough that your arms brushed with every other step, your hand finding his without much fanfare, like it had already decided to be there before either of you agreed to it. 

Holy shit. 

Neither of you moved to close the last few inches. Neither of you moved away either.

"Aquarius," you said, testing it out loud, like you were still deciding what to do with the information, your thumb moving absently over the back of his hand.

"Libra," he said back. "The one who's infinitely better than everyone, apparently."

"Now you're getting it."

Keonho glanced at you as you walked, at the string lights catching the side of your face, at the flower crown still hooked around your wrist and the faded marker drawings underneath it, at the small, private smile you were wearing like it belonged to both of you now. He thought that twenty-four suddenly felt like a very long way off, and, for the first time since he'd made that rule up as a teenager with absolutely no evidence behind it, like it might genuinely be worth the wait.

lovhyeon © 2026

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naw Im freakin crien seonghyeon STAYYYYYYY doing them dirty hb dont care as long as he look good

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CROCODILE TEARS - CORTIS X FEM!READER

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CHAPTER 8: THE DEVIL IS IN THE DETAILS - is an idiom meaning that a project or concept may seem simple, but the finer, overlooked elements hold hidden complexities or potential traps that can cause significant problems.

SYNOPSIS: A new girl is plunged into the playground for the rich, meeting 5 boys whose intentions are stained with manipulation and lies. What if this new girl isn’t as innocent as she seems to be?

WARNINGS: profanity, multiple love interests at once, no one is good in this school, manipulation, murder and lies, underaged drinking, obsession, infidelity, overall wickedness, James is a year older than the rest, drugs [this is NOT how I view CORTIS as individuals, this is purely for the story]

WORD COUNT: 5K (4,990 words)

A/N: This chapter is about Yiseo only! It gives you guys a little bit more backstory and more reason to hate the characters in the story 😃 enjoy and come armed with a box of tissues (if you cry easily)

________________________________________________

The day that Yiseo died wasn’t miserable. It was meant to be a day of celebration. Celebrating the school’s anniversary. Laughter and excitement dashed through the hallways throughout the day. Teachers were feeling lenient. Students were very excited. Even the weather was good. Everyday this week was predicted to be sunny and warm. 

Leaves had halted their browning, taking in their last sips of sunlight. Birds tweeted beautifully from the branches, singing joyful tunes. Some students lay out blankets, soaking in the remnants of the summer sun. Others gossiped under the broad shade of the trees whilst the rest hid indoors. 

Everybody was happy but Yiseo. She was scared. Frightened. She had provoked James the previous night, and the gears inside her head were steaming from overworking. James wasn’t as lenient as she thought. She had witnessed it firsthand. Every time a small argument arose, it would end with James in a cruel temper with Yiseo left to bear the yoke. It was becoming increasingly evident that it wasn’t love keeping Yiseo in the relationship, it was fear. 

Yiseo had hidden in the library, hoping to avoid any prying individuals. Hoping to avoid one of the boys.

“I didn’t take you as the hiding type.”, a deep voice said next to her. The voice startled her. 

“Juhoon…”, she said softly.

“What are you hiding from? Today is a good day.”, his tone had no hint of joy or happiness. It was scaring her.

“I’m not hiding. I just needed to rest. Just a little tired.”, she said, avoiding eye contact.

“Come to the hangout room. I have something for fatigue.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Why do you always do this to me, Yiseo?”, he hissed.

“Do what?”, her palms were sweating now.

“I am offering you help yet you still won’t take it from me. You act as if I’m the devil himself.”

“Fine, I’ll take whatever it is you want to give me.”

Juhoon’s face visibly relaxed. The two of them walked to the hangout room, a charged space between them. No one was in the hangout room except for them. 

“There is this drink I have when I feel sleepy. It’s in the fridge, top shelf. Unless you want something stronger?”

Something stronger meant drugs. The first and last time she ever took them was as a punishment for not replying to James’ text on time. She was ill for days. He wouldn’t let her go to a hospital. All of the boys knew. Juhoon knew. Yet he did nothing. 

“No.”, her tone was sharp, “I don’t want something stronger.”

“Ok, then.”

She opened the fridge, grabbing the drink from the top shelf. Turning on her heel, she made way for the door. 

“One last thing, Yiseo.”

His tone could not be described. 

“All of this…tension can go away if you apologise now. James is forgiving. He is understanding. Go make things right. If you can’t with me, then at least do it with him. Please.”

“Fuck you, Juhoon.”

And with that she left the room. 

________________________________________________

James was pacing. The wound of the previous day was still fresh. Still open and bleeding. It was bound to end this way. Yiseo avoiding him. Him feeling angry and afraid. Yiseo knew his deepest and darkest secrets. Everything he felt or thought, Yiseo knew. Now, she wasn’t by his side anymore. He could no longer keep a watchful eye on her like he used to. She was a liability. 

When liabilities became apparent to James, he always aimed to get rid of them. Weirdly, he felt no hesitation in getting rid of Yiseo. He had convinced himself it was for the best. For his benefit. Maybe she was right. He wasn’t capable of love. 

His main priority was to find Yiseo. The only problem was that when she didn’t want to be found, you could not find her. He pulled out his phone and dialled Juhoon. 

“Hyung?”

“Juhoon. Have you seen Yiseo anywhere?”

The line when silent for a second.

“Hello?”, James questioned.

“Huh? Oh, yeah I saw her in the library.”

“Is she still there?”

“I don’t think so.”

James sighed heavily.

“Thanks for the help.”, he murmured before cutting the call.

He needed someone with eyes around the school. The Twins. Yiseo had always liked them. To her, they were her younger siblings. A mischievous set but incredibly loyal. James couldn’t pass up a chance to not put them to good use. So he called Keonho. 

“Keonho.”

“What’s up, hyung?”

“I need a favour. Is Seonghyeon there?”

“Of course I’m here.”, Seonghyeon’s voice came through.

“Good. I need you to find Yiseo for me.”

“Is everything okay?”, Keonho asked.

“Do what I’m asking you to do first, then we can talk.”

“Ok. We’ll get right to it.”, Seonghyeon promised.

“Thanks.”

________________________________________________

“Yiseo!”

A small gasp left her lips. She began walking faster. James had already sent The Twins to come find her. He really was out to get her. She was nearing the school gate, hoping to get out of campus and go do what she planned to do.

“Yiseo! Wait.”, Seonghyeon yelled.

His voice felt like a ton of bricks being thrown at her face. Was it really right to leave them? To destroy and expose them? It felt like a game of tug of war. Either go back to James and face the punishment or leave and expose them for who they truly are. Freedom was guaranteed for the latter. That’s what Yiseo believed. She made it past the school gates, rushing round a corner and running through the park. All she could do was run. She couldn’t stop running. 

Her life was on the line.

________________________________________________

She was surprised that the club was open during the day. Then again, day drinking was incredibly rare around these parts of town. The two bouncers knew her already. She was a regular with James. He would take her here when he had business to do or if he wanted to spoil her with expensive drinks. This was the environment Yiseo hated the most. Whenever she would tell James he would always tell her that she was too shy for her own good. Whatever that meant. 

The two men opened the door. There he was. Ji-ho. If there was one person James looked up to, it was him. Ji-ho got him into the dealing business, gave him contracts and great deals. James owes Ji-ho his life. That’s what Yiseo wanted to pay with today. 

“Yufan’s girl. Ain’t it school hours? What are you doing here?”

“It’s Yiseo. We have the day off.”, she sounded exhausted. 

“Sit. Help me count those stacks.”

Yiseo skirted around the table, dropping into the seat next to him. She grabbed the first stack and started to count.

“Seeing as Yufan isn’t here, you must’ve come here to see me without him knowing.”

Yiseo kept on counting.

“He shouldn’t be trusted.”

“I know who to trust.”

“Not to be rude, but I don’t think you do. Yufan is a cheat and he is just a schoolboy. He’s not made for business.”

“Did he break your heart or something?”

“Just don’t trust him.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Here,”, she handed the stack to him. “500,000 Won.”

She was quick to realise that her attempts were futile. Ji-ho wouldn’t do anything. She simply wasn’t convincing enough. It would be a waste to spend time arguing with someone who had already made his mind. 

Unfortunately, if Yiseo had spent a little more time arguing her case, it may have saved her life.

As soon as Yiseo walked out of the door, Ji-ho picked up his phone.

“Yufan.”

“Yes, hyung.”

“You wouldn’t believe what just happened.”

“What happened?”

“Your girl came running over here to report you.”

James exhaled. He was fighting to stay calm.

“I’m sorry about that. She can be a little dramatic sometimes. I’ll go sort it out.”

“Good.”

The call cut. James’ patience snapped. He had to get rid of her now. 

________________________________________________

Yiseo’s feet carried her home. The salty water coming from the beach swirled in the air, tickling her nose. Seagulls cried above as the waves crashed against the rocks. The air was breezy and warm. Today was beautiful. That’s what everyone believed. In Yiseo’s heart, death was creeping closer and closer. She could feel it. Truthfully, she wasn’t ready to go yet. She had lived a life full of regret. The voice mail she had sent yesterday hadn’t been replied to.

Her house keys were cold against her fingers. She fumbled with them a couple times, before unlocking the door. Death was coming. Death was coming. Death was comi-

Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she tossed her keys in the bowl, dragging her feet to her bedroom. On her desk, there was a diary. Her diary. She grabbed a pen from the pot next to you and began to write. Maybe it was fear or acceptance, but it spurred her on to write like her life depended on it. If death was coming, she needed someone to know what her life was like before she left. She may not have fully realised, but she was writing this all down for you. Hoping that you would forgive her one day after reading it all. You were always on her mind. Subconsciously and consciously. 

She scribbled furiously, tears forming tiny ponds on the pages. As she reached the last page of the diary, all that was written was:

IdontwanttodieIdontwanttodie IdontwanttodieIdontwanttodie

She slapped her head multiple times, tears steaming down her face as she sobbed. Grabbing the diary, she tossed it behind her wardrobe. Her body couldn’t take the sobbing anymore. She ended up in a crumpled heap on the floor, sobbing till her throat begged for it to end.

How had she turned out like this? Life was no longer worth living in her eyes. The person she thought she loved was terrible, she had pushed her own best friend away and she had caught herself in a sticky affair with a person who thought she could do no wrong. This wasn’t what she was like before. She didn’t want to die like this. Nothing was in the way that she wanted it to be. All she could ask for in this moment was to hear your voice again. Hear you comfort and reassure her. That wasn’t possible though.

Yiseo died thinking that you would never want to speak to her again.

________________________________________________

Yiseo wouldn’t have gone to the anniversary if it wasn’t for Hwa-young’s phone call.

“Yiseo!”

“Hmmm?”, Yiseo replied tiredly.

“Are you not coming back to school?”

“I’m feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Yiseo!!!! You promised!”

Hwa-young was fast approaching a tantrum.

“Fine. I’ll get ready.”

“I’ll tell my driver to stop by yours so we can go together. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Using the edge of her desk, Yiseo pushed herself up. She took out her spare uniform from her wardrobe and a brush from her vanity. With the little life she had left, she attempted to put herself together in a presentable manner. There was no hope left in her eyes. She moved mechanically as she brushed through her hair. 

Death is coming. Death is coming. Death is coming.

________________________________________________

“Yiseo! Did you put on makeup? Here let me apply some.”

Yiseo had barely sat down by the time Hwa-young started fussing over her. On any other day, Yiseo would’ve pushed the brush away and begged her not to apply anything onto her face. Today, however, was her death day. It wouldn’t hurt to leave looking presentable. 

“Thanks, Hwa-young.”

“No problem! You are looking extra pretty already. Wanna take a selfie?”

Yiseo hadn’t even replied by the time she shoved the camera in her hands, urging her to take a photo of the moment. Yiseo smiled. She really didn’t want her student ID photo to be used in her funeral, so she better give them something stunning to faun over. The two girls both took several photos, individually and together.

“I’m already planning my next holiday. I want you to come with!”

Girls were only invited on holiday with Hwa-young when she really liked them. Yiseo’s heart swelled with pride. Tears began brimmung in her eyes.

“I would like that.”, she chocked out, nodding her head.

“Yiseo! Don’t cry! Awww!”

If Yiseo wanted to cry, she was going to do so. Today was the day to feel everything at least once.

________________________________________________

Campus was full of students. Everyone was so excited and happy. Orderly queues formed all the way through the school. The assembly wasn’t due to start for another thirty minutes but everyone was already there. Hwa-young bounced excitedly beside Yiseo, her happiness radiating off of her. 

“Martin said he was going to take me out tonight!”, she squealed excitedly.

“That’s sweet.”

“You and James got any plans?”

“Nothing that I know of.”

“Awww, I’m sure he has something planned for you.”

Oh, he did. 

“Oh, I see Martin!”

Panic ran through Yiseo’s body. She should’ve known that hanging around Hwa-young would attract one of the boys.

Martin’s tall frame could be seen from afar. He occasionally stopped to greet students, he was incredibly popular with everyone. If only they knew what he got up to in his spare time. He took his time making his way over to you. The pace of his walk was the same as that of a predator that had already caught its prey right where it wanted it.

“Hey baby,”, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against Hwa-young’s lips. People nearby cheered and whooped. “And Yiseo. How are you doing?”

Martin was a smart kid. Everybody seemed to be on red alert. He knew what he was doing asking her that question. He had acknowledged your presence, that solidified how the day would end.

“I’m good.”, she replied curtly.

“I hope my lady has been taking care of you?”, he leaned down, placing a small peck on Hwa-young’s nose. She giggled at the contact.

“She always takes care of me. You look well taken care of.”

Yiseo had fired back. Hwa-young refused to believe rumours of Martin’s promiscuity so that comment flew right over her head. Martin, however, understood what she had meant. Perfectly. His eyes darkened ever so slightly. Yiseo felt content in that moment. 

“Hwa-young is the most caring girl I know. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“That reminds me. James was looking for you. Just head on in, he’ll be in the hangout room.”

“Thanks.”

Yiseo began making her way into the school, when Martin called behind her.

“Take care!”

Martin never said ‘take care’. Never when he was seeing Yiseo off. It was always ‘see you later’. As she walked on, an aching feeling of anguish filled her chest.

Death was here.

________________________________________________

Yiseo had always imagined her wedding day. The day where she would walk down the aisle, surrounded by the people she loved most. She would walk towards her soon-to-be-husband, ready to make vows that would bind them together. She would never get that.

As she walked down the hallway, her feet dragged. Her body was unwilling to take itself to a dangerous place but her mind had already made its decision. As long as she for there, her end will be less painful. That’s what she wanted to believe. The hallway had never felt so long before. Boards adorned the walls, portraying students with happy faces and beautiful smiles. Others had student’s names on them. Best effort of the week, student of the week, athlete of the week. Everyone was celebrated and happy. So, so happy. That’s all she ever wanted. Happiness. Contentment. Belonging.

The door was in her sights now. Her steps slowed, the imaginary weights around her legs burying themselves in the ground. She raised her hand, knocking three times.

“Come in.”

A shaky breath left her as she entered. There he sat in all his glory. Chao Yufan. James sat on the couch, nursing a glass. His sleeves rolled to his elbows, eyes locked on the wall before him. 

“You came.”, he said simply.

“…Martin said you were looking for me.”

“That’s right.”

He took a sip.

“Yiseo.”, he hung his head low. “I went through a lot of trouble to get you where you are standing right now.”

On any other day, Yiseo would’ve been begging and apologising. She would have rushed to James’ side, holding his hand and pleading for him to forgive her. Today, she didn’t move. Not an inch. James noted her defiance.

He scoffed humourlessly. 

“You aren’t even going to apologise? I was so willing to forgive-”

“Lies.”

The single word threw off whatever balanced control James had put up as a facade. His head whipped up forcefully, his grip on the glass tightening.

“What did you say?”, he whispered.

“I said ‘lies’. You stopped being benevolent the moment I hurt your pride. You stopped faking your affection for me the moment I saw through you. You are a liar and a schoolboy who is way in over his head-”

The sound of glass making harsh contact with the wall filled the air. Yiseo was finding it hard to breathe. 

“Look what you made me do. I’ve made a mess, Yiseo. I’ve scared you.”, his tone resembled that of a child who had done something worth scolding him for.

He stumbled towards the shards of glass, picking up a sharp piece. Turning it over in his hand, he inspected it with child-like curiosity.

Straightening himself, he walked slowly towards Yiseo. She instinctively moved back against the wall, hoping for it to swallow her up and shelter her away from him. The walls did no such thing.

“Apologise. Apologise and all of this will go away. We’ll go back to what we were. We were happy, weren’t we?”

He was getting closer. Tears were streaming from her eyes.

“No.”, she whispered quietly.

“We were made for each other. Don’t you get it? Me and you are meant to be together for eternity. You love me. You do.”, he held up the shard to Yiseo’s neck, pressing lightly.

Beads of blood trickled hesitantly.

“James, let go.”

Before he could formulate a response, a lazy knock on the door stole their attention. James pulled Yiseo towards himself, her back to his chest with the shard pressed closely to her neck. The door opened. Yiseo had hoped that this person would at least help her but when she say their face, all the hope she had left in an instant.

“James hyung, the assembly will be starting soon.”, Kim Juhoon said calmly. His eyes were trained on Yiseo’s neck but he made no move to counter James.

“Thank you, Juhoon.”

Juhoon had nothing else to say, so he turned and began making his way out of the door. 

“Juhoon, can I ask you for a quick favour?”, James questioned curiously.

“Sure.”

“What should I do with Yiseo? Let her go and deal with her after the assembly or get rid of her now?”

Juhoon’s face remained unchanged.

“Juhoon, please.”, Yiseo begged. 

In that moment, Juhoon could only think of the times he had begged for Yiseo’s affection, only to be turned down and rejected. He had helped her in many occasions but had been given nothing in return. All she did was take, but was never willing to give. Juhoon could do the same. 

“Get rid of her now. She’ll get in the way of the assembly if you don’t do it now.”

“I like the way you think, Juhoon.”

Yiseo was so close to death she could smell it. The choking smell of darkness filled her lungs. Clouds of grief produced more tears. 

“I want to make this fun for you, Yiseo. Look at me being ever so kind to you, even after all the things you have done to me. Tell me that isn’t love.”

He pushed her forward towards the door. 

“Go.”

“What?”, Yiseo questioned.

“Hide somewhere where I can’t find you. If I find you, you mustn’t run from me. Now let’s play.”

Yiseo bolted. She never had liked to run but her life was on the line. Through many turns and stairs, she hid behind a wall in the hallway. Nobody would pass through there. She must be safe. Pressing her hand to her mouth, she forced herself to be quiet.

The unmistakable sound of footsteps, echoed through the air. She had been caught.

“I’ve found you.”

Yiseo had been warned not to run if found. There were two options on the table for her. Run or surrender.

She ran. 

Her heart pounding in her ears. She needed to escape. 

Approaching the double doors, she burst through them. 

That’s when she heard him. 

“Don’t try to run away.”

His voice carried down the hallway, he was advancing. 

“If you stay with us, you’ll be safe, I promise.”

His taunting tone filled her stomach with unease. 

He was going to kill her. 

There’s no way he would let her escape. 

Escape and expose them. 

Expose them for who they truly are. 

Expose them for what they did to-

BANG.

A gunshot rang through the air. 

Pain shattered across her body as she struggled to breathe. 

No, she was so close. 

A second pair of footsteps advanced towards her.

The last thing she saw were their two faces. 

Two handsomely, evil faces.

Blood poured out from her chest as the boys continued to stand by her.

“Call The Twins and Martin. We need to clean up and dispose.”, James ordered.

In that moment, Juhoon had never felt such fear. The person looked up to the most had just killed the person he swore to love. He wasn’t sure what would be done to him if he slipped up. So he dialled the numbers and gave instructions.

________________________________________________

The Twins and Martin had settled into their seats near the front. Hwa-young was happily cuddled into Martin’s side as Keonho beamed up at his mum on stage. Seonghyeon felt a buzz in his blazer pocket. He contemplated not picking up, until he saw the caller ID. He got up immediately. Trying not to disturb, he left the room and picked up the phone call.

“Juhoon hyung, what’s up? Where are you?”

“Near the old food tech classrooms. We’ve got a mess here. I need you to come clean it up. Quickly.”

“But the assembly-”

“Fuck the assembly, Seonghyeon.”, Juhoon hissed lowly. ”Just get here now.”

Both Keonho and Martin received similar calls and they both came rushing. The sight they arrived to will forever be engraved in their minds.

“Juhoon, what’s going on?”, Martin choked out.

“I need you guys to clean this up. Go to her house too and find anything related to us.”, Juhoon replied, ignoring Martin’s question.

“But Juhoon hyung-”, Keonho started.

“Ask questions after!”, Juhoon said sharply.

Everybody sprung into action. James was nowhere to be found, Martin had to find a way to dispose of Yiseo’s body, Juhoon stared outside the corridor window and The Twins had gone to her house.

“How should we do this?”, Martin asked softly.

“The beach. Yiseo loved the water.”, Juhoon replied without looking.

“I’ll get it done.”

Martin rushed out of the nearest exit. In the boot of his car, there was a cleaning kit just for moments like this. He had never wished to use it for Yiseo, ever. Shakily, he grabbed the box and the black tarp before shutting the boot. 

When he got back inside, Juhoon was still where he stood. Martin’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. He had never seen Juhoon like this.

Crouching down, Martin lifted Yiseo onto the tarp he had laid down. His shirt was slightly smeared with blood, but it was the least of his concerns. He wrapped her up gently before turning his attention to the blood on the floor. Tears blurred his vision as he scrubbed and scrubbed to get the blood off of the floor. A light, red tinge stained the white tiles despite his efforts. He leaned back onto his knees, huffing.

“Juhoon. We’ll need to close this area off. The tiles need to be changed.”

No reply came from Juhoon.

“Juhoon? I said-”

“I heard you the first time.”, he shifted his weight slightly. “The body.”, he reminded.

Yiseo was no longer called Yiseo. She was now being referred to as the body. As soon as she had passed, they had stripped her of the one thing that made her unique. Her name. They reduced her to something common. Martin’s heart ached but he got up and continued his job.

“I’ll get going now.”, Martin muttered.

He lifted the tarp and held the kit in his hand. As he made his way to the car, he looked left and right, hoping no one would notice. He laid Yiseo’s body down in the boot, when he noticed a shovel. His heart betrayed his head, as he decided to bury her rather than let the water take her.

As he drove, the weather became upset. Rain crashed and poured as the wind howled angrily. They were being punished. No rain was forecasted for the day but it was now pushing the record for the rainiest day of the year. The car approached a small forest. Yiseo would always go for a walk in there to clear her head. Martin carried her body with reverence and a hung head. As he dug her grave, his tears dropped into the area he had dug. 

The tears he had shed would soon sprout the growth of red petunias. Deep, passionate love but intense anger.

________________________________________________

The Twins had arrived at Yiseo’s house. In their hearts, they didn’t think it was right to intrude on a dead person’s home. Yet they feared the consequences they may face if they didn’t do what they were asked to do.

After tampering with the lock, they pushed the door open. Their hearts weighed heavier after seeing all the gifts they had given her decorating her entryway. They crept up the stairs as if not to disturb her resting soul. Her room was the first door on the right. Keonho pushed it open softly, peaking in. He pushed it further, making room for Seonghyeon. The room was so…Yiseo. They didn’t want to touch anything. All they wanted to do was to preserve and freeze time. 

Her desk was neatly disorganised. Pens of different colours overflowing out of colourful pots looked like small flowers blooming uncontrollably. They scanned for something like a diary. As if not to pry, they gently and softly moved and lifted things. Seonghyeon’s hand explored behind the tall wardrobe. His hand made contact with something solid. 

“I think I got something.”, Seonghyeon whispered. It was the first thing any of them had spoken since entering the house. 

Seonghyeon’s fingers struggled to find grip on the object, but he managed to pinch it between his fingers. He dragged it out and used his flashlight to study the cover. It was her diary.

Keonho gasped softly as he stepped closer. They both exchanged a look.

“What should we do?”, Keonho said, eyes locked on the book.

“If the stuff in it isn’t too bad, then we pretend we never saw it.”

“Open it.”

After reading the first page they made the decision not to leave it in the house. 

“Who should we give it to?”, Seonghyeon asked.

“I don’t know. You keep it or I keep it?”

“You keep it.”

Seonghyeon placed the diary in Keonho’s hand. 

“Don’t do anything stupid with this, Keonho.”,

Seonghyeon warned. 

“I won’t.”, Keonho promised.

“Let’s get out of here.”

As soon as they left the house, a call came through. 

“Martin hyung.”

“Keonho, Seonghyeon, meet at the usual spot.”

“Seonghyeon’s house?”, Keonho confirmed.

“Yep. Have you done your part?”

“All done on our end. You?”

“Done.”

“Ok. See you in a few.”

________________________________________________

Everyone was gathered in the laundry room, except for James. No one knew where James was yet everyone knew not to try and find him. Martin had thrown his bloodstained shirt in the washing machine. Deep down he knew that one cycle wouldn’t get the blood out that easily. 

Seonghyeon and Keonho were both sat on washing machines that weren’t in use. Martin stood opposite to the washing machine washing his shirt, staring with such intensity you would think he was going to wash the shirt himself. Juhoon stood by the doorframe, an unknown expression on his face.

Martin’s heavy sigh broke the silence.

“Keonho, can you ask your mum to close school for tomorrow?”, Martin asked.

“Stubborn stains?”, Keonho said trivially.

Martin nodded once.

“I’ll give her a call.”

Silence filled the air once again.

“What did you guys find?”, Juhoon mumbled.

“Photos, notes and the likes. We got rid of them. All of them.”, Keonho said confidently.

Seonghyeon sent him a look that nobody but Keonho registered. Keonho was being stupid. 

“Good.”, Martin said. “I’m going to head home.”

“Stay over, there is no point going home.”, Seonghyeon said plainly. 

It wasn’t unusual for the boys to sleep over at Seonghyeon’s house. Today was a day when everyone needed each other’s presence. 

Seonghyeon’s words prompted everyone to get ready for bed. Martin walked out first, Seonghyeon not far behind. Juhoon looked like he had to physically lift himself upright to move. The sight was abnormal to Keonho. 

“Juhoon hyung.”, he blurted without a second thought.

Juhoon tiredly turned his head towards Keonho. Keonho thought to himself in that moment that if he told Juhoon what he found, life would immediately get complicated. 

“…Never mind. Get some rest.”, Keonho said as he walked past Juhoon, his hand lingering on his shoulder momentarily. Juhoon’s eyes followed but his soul was too tired to pry. 

So he decided to wait. He would tell everyone eventually, right?

________________________________________________

A/N: I hope you didn’t cry 😁 this series is unfortunately coming to an end which means NEW SERIES!!! If you want to be part of the new taglist just let me know! I don’t want to leave any people behind in this series, we all move together 🫡

taglist: @wouldntyuliketoknowweatherboy, @faayzeswords, @nanamyberry, @mitsubal0ver, @eunjjx, @kienhawon, @inadazeee, @inlirium, @meeoowchi, @hyeonverse, @ireaiiyiikecats, @lunaryoongie, @udontknowmee2, @kyeonhoelii, @loserloveremployee, @berryred, @stxrripure, @f4l13n4ng3l1, @whmzyvic, @kurosagislvr, @belleameslust, @kiememories, @amethyystlvr, @scalsstereo, @seonghwaswifeuuuu, @hajimeumemiya06, @dreamyevilcomet, @hrrystylesss12345, @taeyongsfriedhair, @acai-girl-forevaaa

[ilvgi4]

𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗍⍺𝗌,  ㅤ𝗷𝗮𝘇𝘇 ㅤ &ㅤ  𝖻𝗈⍺𝗌 ㅤ 𝖼⍺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗀⍺𝗌.