Synopsis: A random pairing of teammates of a women's volleyball team happens to be too close all of a sudden.
Warnings: STRICTLY FICTIONAL - MINORS DNI 🔞. Read at your own risk, curse unfiltered words, slight innacuracy of real places (I did my best to research okay?), inaccurate personality of characters, mention of body parts, romantic tension.
Masterlist of Works
________________________
Being a part of a program where the whole country, mostly the fellow schoolmates and alumni highly expects of the team, it's not a life you would ideally trade for. It is not a walk in the park but this will all pay off, long term-wise. The routine consists of seeing the team most of the day; the only time you don't, would be when you're in class or when it's time to hit the hay.
This day was different, for someone spending years with, she finally broke the ice with a short casual message.
🐷: Is your room vacant? Can I crash for a while? I just needed to review for an important exam.
Sana stared at it for a while.
She wasn't really close with Dahyun-ie among the teammates, she may be the source of joy of everyone for her effortless humor but when it's just the girls, she'd rather keep to herself.
🐹: Sure. Are you alright if I'm playing music? It helps me with studying.
🐷: Yeah, Jeongyeon-ie & Nayeon-ie made our room a tiny podcast space with all the loud chatter, not that it's bad. Just wrong timing for my situation haha.
She heard a faint knock, Dahyunie opened the door with a smile - the one that fans swoon over.
"Hey." She came in with a bunch of books, papers, and a pouch in one arm. Sana nodded.
Dahyun sat on Sana's spot of the table. It was a bit empty since she prefers to study on her spot of the bunk bed anyway.
"Are you ready for the final list of lineup tomorrow?" She added, giving her a concerned look.
In response, Sana gave her an assuring smile.
"I can pray all I want but the results won't be up to me. Only hoping for the best, while expecting for the worst." She replied, Dahyun nodded with the valid point.
Others would bring pressure to the situation, Sana prefers to leave it up to God. That's just how she handle things that bring her worry or stress, she leaves it for 'destiny' to fix rather than waste her energy for factors she can't control.
🦄: Team Dinner, guys! Sponsors bought us food as a treat.
It's the Team Captain, Jihyo-eonnie. She never misses reminding the team about the little things.
"Welp. I just got here. Come on, don't starve yourself. Let's wait for them at the lobby... Is it okay if I leave my stuff here? I don't think my room is ideal for a nice study environment haha." Dahyun stood up and leaned by the doorstep, waiting for Sana to get ready for dinner. She nodded and stuck her thumbs up.
The team was complete, the lobby of the dormitory is the usual assembly spot - time to walk to the common dining venue where the coaches were waiting. Sana felt her stomach a little upset, weak as if she lost her appetite. This would be her second meal of the day, she skipped snack time in the afternoon. To her surprise, Dahyun has been observing her from the table parallel to theirs. Her eyes showed worry, the one that begs to ask the question if someone's alright.
"Sana, are you okay?" One of the female coaches approached over, she forced a smile while the food is being distributed and served. The bellyache got worse, she felt like belching out anytime.
Dahyun's eyes barely left the area, checking up on her often. This was the most interaction she made with her since both of them started as young recruits years ago.
__________________________________________
Today is the day everyone finds out if they're worth staying in the team or not. They'd be thankful enough they offered these kids free education, a roof over their head, 5 meals a day, and a nice allowance every month they can send partially to their family. Of course, contributing to a player's confidence would be the part that they get to play often but coming from a humble upbringing, they're considering the practicality of their situation too.
The training began with the usual routine; 3-man play as the cherry on top, perhaps the final deciding factor of the coaches to put on that list. The little group consisted of Mina, Sana, and Chaeyoung. Dahyun-ie was with Jihyo, and Nayeon. Coach JYP, took over the floor and tossed the ball carelessly when the three of them least expected it. Chae received, Mina took the set with the flick of her wrist, Sana leaned back for a smash. The ball almost went out of circle, Chae aimed for a pancake.
"Ball is alive, keep going!" JYP raised his voice to warn the group. Mina adjusted her sets, you went easy with the hits this time to keep the ball control within the area of scope. The counting is alphabetized, currently their streak is at letter S.
T.
U.
V.
W.
X.
Y.
Z! The coaches and teammates cheered early.
Out of excitement, Sana directed the hit to Coach Koo. He managed to catch the ball without any sweat.
Dahyun-ie walked their way for a hi-five. She gave a wink afterwards, Sana felt weirded out how her body responded to it. Warm flushes on both sides of her cheeks were felt.
Was it embarrassing or rather flattering?
The training wrapped up, the girls are all gathered in one spot of the bleachers while the team staff stood alongside Coach JYP.
Tension wrapped around Sana like a blanket, just cold and unsettling. A warm ambience disrupted the noise, it came from Dahyun's hands that gripped on hers. Her smile felt safe and assuring, perhaps that's really what every loves about her. Not the shallow charm brought by those curves on her lips but the positive energy it radiates.
"As you all know, our captain is remains to be Jihyo. The batch 322 being our core will be a part of this list. That makes 4 people out of 23. When your name is called, please stay along with your seniors on one side..." Coach JYP explained.
Sana's hand unconsciously clenched, Dahyun-ie smirked while rubbing it to comfort her.
"Son Chaeyoung... Myoui Mina... Kim Dahyun..." Coach continued calling names.
Dahyun nodded and mouthed, "fighting." Then headed to the rest of the lineup.
"... Minatozaki Sana... Chou Tzuyu... That's all of them? Yep." Coach flipping between the pages on the clip board he held and glanced at the group.
Sana couldn't help but stare dead into Dahyun's eyes while she gave her the widest smile from afar. Was that her name? For the lineup? She made it?
"Uy, Sana. Get up! You don't want it? I can add someone else." Coach snapped her back to reality. She shook your head and got up as fast as she can.
"I made it? I made it!" Her voice shaking, tears settled on the corners of her eyes and dropped eventually.
All the lethargy, the weight of the world, and negative thoughts left her system. She opened her arms for a tight hug, just exactly what she needed. This time, the world around her spun slower like it's just the two of them who can understand the amount of joy this day brought.
_______________________________________
Someone knocked by the door and opened by itself, it was Dahyunie wearing nice clothes... at this time of the night.
"Let's go out! I'm meeting some friends to come hang." She sat on the edge of Sana's bed.
"Doesn't that count as disobeying dorm rules?" Sana asking with worry on her tone. Dahyun shook her head.
"Normally they start implementing the closed door rules a week after the lineup or a week after the holidays." She explained, giving assurance to her new friend. Sana was hesitating but eventually got up to take a chance if she sees clothes that deemed fit for the moment.
"Where are we going anyway? And who else will be there? What's the plan? Curfew is in 2 hours." She replied.
"We're just partying at a schoolmate's condominium that's a fan of the team. Momo will be with us, we can stay the night at her place then we can come back here when dorms open at 5am. It's the weekend anyway so no morning training tomorrow." Dahyun really has a way with her words all the time, it doesn't help that her charm adds up to it. Sana found the perfect pieces of clothing to go for and closed her cabinet doors to get changed.
________________________
They passed by Momo's place to drop the bags of essentials they need for staying the night. The party was a cab ride away from university premises. It was a penthouse, hues of lights in blue, purple, and green were projected all around. The hired DJ played a mix of house music and greatest hits on shuffle - setting the mood for the occasion. The atmosphere was intimidating at first, the girls parted ways for the meantime to make more friends. Sana found her type of crowd, the chill ones that were pretty much dragged by their friends to join in as well. From afar, was Dahyun checking up on her every once in a while to see if she's alright - after all, she felt that the responsibility of bringing Sana over to an unfamiliar place away from the dormitory would fall on her.
Eventually, the group of the party host would roam around to give shots with random people. They went over to Sana's clique, with much worry in her eyes, Dahyun scooted inbetween the busy crowd to reach her but it was too late. Behind one of the group members, she found her innocent teammate taking shots straight from the bottle of an amber-colored drink and took the slice of lemon right away. The people celebrated, her lips parted in awe and a bit of a proud moment to see her let loose. The uptight, obedient, and a bright spot kind of a student-athlete that she is, finally showing a side of her that she rarely shows because she never had the chance to.
After a few rounds of shots and free flowing drinks by the open bar, Sana's low tolerance for such beverages began to show up. The hot flushes all over her body, the loud beating she can hear from her head and felt from her chest have been bothersome so she decided to slow down and seat on a fluffy velvet couch.
"When was the last time you went to the toilet? Here drink this. The cheat is to start hydrating until it leaves your system." Dahyun sat beside her with a water bottle on hand.
"I might vomit any time soon." Sana hesitated but deep down, she liked the idea of being taken care of and grabbed the bottle to drink anyway.
"Drink this from time to time, not in one go. If you have to take a leak, do it. It's the best way of releasing it out of your body. You'll sober up in no time." Some partygoers checking up on Sana too, Dahyun crossed her forearms signaling the people that they're not drinking anymore. Sana got up in a rush to the toilet and came back. "Come, let's stay by the balcony. You might need fresh air, it reeks of unflavoreed vapor here." She added. Judging from the way Sana walked, she's almost sobered up.
The sound of the busy roads of the city beneath the tower can be heard, the breathtaking 360 view of the city lights is something this property's owner have taken for granted. Leaves of the outdoor plants rustling from the cold winds passing by, it makes a huge difference from staying indoors where the chaos lives on for god knows when - after all, it's the college culture of Happy T, also known as the Happy Thursdays.
Dahyun lent her jacket to warm up but Sana unexpectedly turned around for a warm embrace instead.
"Thank you." She uttered while her arms are still wrapped around. Dahyun paused, she can feel her heart beating twice per second, worried that Sana might feel it too.
"Nah. It's my fault. I invited you along against your will." She replied, while patting her teammate's back to comfort her.
"No. Maybe I needed this. Thank you for tagging me along and taking care of me." She finally backed up while both arms are till attached from one another.
Their eyes did the talking, it was reaching for something bittersweet yet so beautiful to share a memory such as this one. Dahyun's eyes welled up, hidden behind a painful smile.
"You know we can't, right?" Unsure if the proper words came out but that was everything she was able to say. Sana nodded back, tears falling from one side of her cheek, pulled her for another hug.
"We can still express it in ways they deem safe. Just know you will always have a special place in my heart, Dahyun-ie. I will forever cherish these moments we shared together. But I don't want to lose you as a friend." Her hand grabbing the side of Dahyun's head sticking it close to hers. The two girls were sobbing from a night that was supposed to be a full on fun from a casual rager. "I love you. Platonically... for now." She added as she let out a chuckle out of nowhere. Now it's both of them grabbing each other's faces from both sides.
"I love you too. Platonically... for now." They shared a few laughs and sealed the night with another warm embrace.
It was a feeling that can be both painful yet so wonderful, an act of sacrifice to prioritize their dreams and practicality of life over the thought of finally being happy and proud of the love they created. Perhaps the time wasn't on their side for now, they believed that if it's true love, then it will be worth waiting for.
NOTE: Uhh... s u r p r i s e?
"But you just said you have quit writing since last December?" Yes, I know and I'm aware of it. Don't celebrate too much, this is just temporary. One and done. This doesn't mean i'm fully back.
I just did this because I noticed my TWICE oneshot book didn't ended well as I wanted it to be. Since it has the book with LOTS of progress, I figured what if I fix the order to finally end it like I want to. Chaeyoung and Tzuyu didn't have an entry for Set 6, so I'm giving them one.
Anyways, here's my last gas I have left in me. I don't want to lie as well, this one including Tzuyu's, I had some help with AI. Still, most of this are entirely by me. Have fun reading still.
WORD COUNT: 12683 (one of the longest in the book.)
=== START ===
The kitchen is a battlefield of aromatic precision. Chaeyoung moves with the rhythmic, practiced efficiency of a woman trying to orchestrate perfection out of chaos. The air is thick with the scent of rosemary-crusted lamb and the reduction of a red wine demi-glace that has been simmered to a glossy, dark intensity.
She checks the oven timer again. Two minutes.
She pulls a silk tablecloth from the drawer, smoothing it over the mahogany surface with a focus that borders on the religious. Every wrinkle is a personal failure; every fold must be aligned. She places the candles—tapered, unscented, elegant—in their silver holders. She isn’t just setting a table; she is building a sanctuary, a desperate, physical manifestation of the home she prays they still have.
Her hands tremble slightly as she adjusts the placement of the silverware. It’s been five years, and yet, the simple act of setting two places feels like a gamble. She catches her reflection in the darkened window above the sink. She looks... festive. She’d spent an hour on her hair, pinning it back with the delicate gold clip you had bought her their second year, back when they still had weekend mornings that didn't start with a frantic scramble for a pager.
She forces a breath, deep and steadying, pressing her palms against the cool granite of the counter. He will be here, she tells herself, the mantra repeating like a heartbeat. He promised. He looked me in the eye this morning and said he would leave the clinic by six. No emergencies, no consults, no interruptions.
She all told this to herself, for the sake of her peace.
She uncorks a bottle of Cabernet, the vintage they’d saved for a special occasion. The sound of the cork sliding free is a small, sharp pop that echoes in the quiet apartment. She pours a glass, then pauses, looking at the empty chair across from her. She quickly pours a second one, placing it precisely to the right of the other setting.
The kitchen clock ticks—a rhythmic, relentless sound that counts down not just seconds, but the fraying threads of her patience. She turns to the oven as the timer pings, a cheerful, metallic sound that feels jarringly out of place in the weighted silence.
She pulls the roast out, the heat radiating against her cheeks. She plates it with the care of a surgeon, drizzling the sauce in a perfect arc, arranging the roasted root vegetables with a precision that makes her chest ache. Everything is ready. Everything is perfect.
She wipes a stray smudge of sauce from the edge of the plate, her movements slowing. She walks over to the living room, smoothing the cushions of the sofa, straightening a stack of medical journals that you had left splayed on the coffee table. She gathers them up, tucking them neatly into a basket. Out of sight, out of mind. Tonight, the medical world—the charts, the sterile white coats, the life-and-death stakes—has to stay behind the front door.
She goes back to the window. The street below is slick with the evening’s drizzle, the headlights of passing cars blurring into streaks of orange and white.
6:15.
She reminds herself that traffic is unpredictable. The city is a beast, especially on a Friday. He’s probably just stuck behind a bus, or maybe there was a light he missed. She paces the length of the kitchen to the dining room, her heels clicking against the hardwood, a sound that feels entirely too loud.
6:30.
She picks up her phone. No notifications. The screen is dark, a black mirror staring back at her. She taps it—the lock screen glows, a photo of them on a beach, both of them laughing, their hair windswept, faces unlined by the exhaustion that now marks every conversation. She studies the image, searching for the people they used to be. They look like strangers who share a past.
She puts the phone down, face up. A deliberate choice. She needs to see it if it lights up. She needs to know the exact second he reaches for her, even if it’s just with a text.
She goes to the stove to check the heat. Everything is staying warm, but the smell of the food, once appetizing, is beginning to feel cloying. It’s too rich, too heavy for a dinner for one. The steam rising from the plates curls into the air, ghost-like.
She walks back to the table and sits. She doesn’t eat. She just watches the candles. The flames flicker, casting long, dancing shadows against the walls. The apartment feels vast, a hollowed-out cavern of expectations. She finds herself rearranging her fork, sliding it an inch to the left, then back again.
"You're late," she whispers to the empty chair. The words catch in her throat, a dry, jagged sensation. “... Again.” She swallows hard, trying to push the rising tide of bile back down.
She picks up the glass of wine and takes a slow, measured sip. It’s good, but it tastes like vinegar. Everything tastes like disappointment tonight. She looks at the front door. It remains shut, indifferent, a heavy piece of oak that guards a life she isn't sure she wants anymore.
Her mind starts to wander, against her will, to all the other nights like this. The birthdays marked by a frantic "Happy Birthday" text sent from a hospital parking lot. The anniversary last year where he’d fallen asleep mid-sentence, his pager chirping like an insect in the dark. She realizes, with a cold, creeping horror, that she has spent half their relationship mourning you while you was still alive.
She pushes the plate away, the ceramic scraping harshly against the table. The sound vibrates through the room, a jagged note of discord. She stares at the empty space where he should be, feeling the weight of the silence press against her ears. It’s not just the absence of his body; it’s the absence of his intention. He isn't here because he didn't try hard enough to be here.
She stands up, her chair legs skidding across the floor. She walks to the window again, pulling back the curtain. The street is empty, save for a stray cat darting between parked cars.
7:00.
The fragile hope she’d spent the day cultivating begins to evaporate, leaving behind a cold, sharp bitterness that settles in her marrow. She isn't angry yet. Anger is too hot, too active. Right now, she is simply hollowed out. She looks at the cooling meal, the beautiful, wasted effort, and feels a wave of nausea.
She picks up her phone again. She taps the screen. Still nothing.
The apartment is perfectly set, perfectly lit, perfectly quiet. And for the first time in five years, she looks at the room not as a home, but as a stage for a play that only she is performing, night after agonizing night, to an audience of none.
The silence in the room had a texture now—thick, like velvet, pressing against her eardrums. Chaeyoung remained seated, her spine unnaturally straight, staring at the steam rising from the risotto in the center of the table. It was a faint, wavering ribbon of gray, a ghost of the effort she’d poured into the evening.
Every tick of the wall clock felt like a physical blow.
7:15…
7:30…
Each minute that passed did more than just age the wine; it stripped away the last remnants of the "Chaeyoung" who believed in miracles.
She reached out, her fingers hovering over the stem of the crystal wine glass across from her. She didn’t touch it. She didn’t want to disturb the perfect, symmetrical misery of the table setting. your napkin was folded with the same precision as hers, a white paper soldier waiting for a general who had abandoned the post.
He’s definitely on surgery as usual, she told herself. It was the mantra. The sacred, impenetrable shield that had protected their relationship from her scrutiny for years. But tonight, the shield didn’t hold. Tonight, the logic felt thin, transparent. Surgery was a variable, but communication was a choice. A quick text at six o’clock would have taken five seconds. A thumb-swipe while walking down a sterile hallway.
She picked up her phone. The screen was a black mirror, reflecting her own eyes that are wide, searching, and exhausted. She scrolled through their messages. The last one was from yesterday: “Can’t wait for tomorrow. 6pm. Love you.”
She pressed her thumb against the text, hard, as if the physical force could somehow jump-start the ghost of the man who wrote it. When nothing happened, she set the phone face-down on the mahogany surface. The small clack of the device against the wood sounded like a gunshot in the stagnant air.
She stood up, the chair scraping sharply against the hardwood—a violent sound in the tomb-like quiet. Her legs felt heavy, unmoored from the floor. She walked to the window, peering out at the city lights. Down below, life moved in a steady, rhythmic pulse. People were laughing on the sidewalk, walking dogs, catching cabs. They were living in a world where time belonged to them.
She walked back over to the table and finally touched the food. It was cold. Not just lukewarm, but lifeless. Her gaze on your untouched place setting, the wine in your glass had oxidized, turning a deep, bruised purple. She reached out, intending to clear the plates, but her hand stalled inches from the porcelain.
The butter had solidified into a pale, congealed ring around the edges of the plate. It was a perfect metaphor for the evening, for the year, for the trajectory of the last five years.
She picked up the fork and poked at the arborio rice. It was hard, stubborn. Then, she stared at the roast, now congealed under a translucent film of fat, its once-inviting aroma turned sour and heavy. It was a monument to a delusion.
She had spent hours preparing this—trimming, basting, curating a playlist of songs that reminded them of their first year—all while convincing herself that tonight, for just a few hours, the hospital would release its grip on you. She had dressed in the silk slip dress he used to trace with his fingertips, feeling a ghost of your touch against her skin before you’d even walk through the door. Now, the dress felt like a costume in a play where the lead actor had forgotten his cues.
If she cleared the table, the night would be over. The fiction that you were "just running late" would evaporate, replaced by the crushing truth of his absence. She didn't want the truth yet. She wanted the quiet, false comfort of waiting, because waiting was still a form of connection. To stop waiting was to admit that she was alone in this house.
The silence wasn't empty; it was oppressive. It hummed with the ghosts of the dinners that had come before this one. The Tuesday-night Thai takeout they ate over their laptops. The birthday dinner cut short by a frantic page. The anniversaries that blurred into a singular, gray smear of apologies and stale pizza.
She pulled her phone from her pocket for the hundredth time. The screen was black—a dark mirror reflecting her own pale, strained face. She pressed the side button. Nothing. No notifications. No "On my way." No "Sorry, long day." Just the time, glowing with mocking precision: 11:42 PM.
Her heart, which had been racing with a jagged, frantic anxiety for hours, suddenly slowed. The panic ebbed, leaving behind a cold, crystalline clarity. It wasn't just that you were late. It was that you hadn't even thought to wonder if she was still sitting here. You lived in a world of emergencies, and she was simply the scenery—the fixed point you expected to find when you finally finished your work, a piece of furniture that would always be waiting in the corner of your life.
She picked up your wine glass. The stem was cold. She walked to the kitchen, the floorboards groaning under her weight, and poured the wine down the drain. It swirled away in a dark, red spiral. She didn't turn on the kitchen light; the streetlamp outside provided just enough of a ghostly glow to see the sink. She covered the cold roast with a foil, the sound of meat hitting it feeling strangely final, like a closing door.
As she stood there, watching the discarded dinner settle away, the weight of the last five years seemed to descend on her shoulders. It wasn't the single missed dinner that broke the foundation; it was the accumulation of a thousand tiny concessions she’d made to keep him. The way she’d learned to dim her own light so she wouldn't outshine his exhaustion. The way she’d folded herself into the gaps of his schedule, a secondary character in their own romance.
As she washed the plates, she felt a shift inside her. The burning anxiety that had clawed at her stomach all afternoon wasn’t dissipating; it was hardening. It was calcifying into something cold and heavy, a weight that settled behind her ribs.
She wiped her hands on a dish towel, her motions precise and devoid of hesitation. She walked back into the living room, but she didn't look at the table again. She didn't look at the candles. She walked past the remnants of the evening toward the bedroom, her footsteps deliberate.
She didn’t eat. Instead, she just cleared the table. Her patience of tolerating all of this about you disappeared with her appetite. With every movement, a sigh escapes. With every clang of plates and utensils, her heart cracks.
She realized then that she wasn't waiting for you anymore. The anticipation, that desperate, fluttering hope, had vanished. In its place was a terrifying, crystalline clarity. She realized that she had been living in a state of perpetual emergency, waiting for the sirens to stop so she could finally speak to the person she loved. But the sirens never stopped.
They were part of you. They were the melody of your life, and she was merely the background noise that you tuned out when the work grew loud.
She turned off the overhead light, leaving only the dim glow of the hallway lamp. She stripped off the silk dress, the fabric sloughing off her skin like a second layer of pretense, and pulled on an oversized cotton shirt. She didn't bother with a nightlight. She crawled into the bed on her side, pulling the duvet up to her chin.
The apartment felt enormous now, but
the darkness here was absolute and suffocating. It felt like a museum of a life that wasn't being lived.
She didn't sleep. She stared at the ceiling, watching the faint, rhythmic pulse of light from a passing emergency vehicle flicker across the plaster. She counted the seconds between the flashes.
She thought about the anniversary she had imagined: the wine, the laughter, the way you looked when you finally relaxed your shoulders. She realized that she hadn't been planning a date; she had been planning an intervention. And the guest of honor hadn't even bothered to show up for his own wake.
A quiet, jagged laugh escaped her throat. It was a brittle sound, lonely and sharp. She closed her eyes, letting her head lean back against the cushions. She wasn't angry anymore. Anger required fire, and she felt like she had been rinsed clean of all her heat. She was just... finished.
She thought about the suitcases in the hall closet. She thought about the lease, the joint bank account, the tangled mess of five years of you and her. How did you unspool a human being from your life when you were so tightly braided together before.
The front door lock clicked—a dull, metallic sound that vibrated through the floorboards.
Chaeyoung didn't move. She didn't stand up. She didn't rush to the hallway to greet you with a smile or a question. She just kept her eyes closed, listening to the familiar, weary rhythm of his footsteps. The drop of keys in the bowl. The sigh of a man shedding a day’s worth of other people’s pain.
The air in the room seemed to change as he moved through it, bringing with you the scent of antiseptic, cold air, and the exhausted hum of a life lived for others.
"Chaeyoung?"
His voice was a gravelly whisper, cautious. You stopped in the doorway, sensing the shifted atmosphere before he even saw her in the dim light.
Chaeyoung finally opened her eyes. She turned her head slowly, looking at you. You looked like a stranger—your tie loosened, your hair disheveled, your eyes bloodshot and rimmed with the exhaustion of a hundred hours of trauma. You looked like you were about to fall apart.
For a heartbeat, that familiar, traitorous empathy flared in her chest. She saw thode lines of stress around your mouth, the way you hovered on the threshold like you were afraid to enter your own home.
But then she remembered the cold risotto. She remembered the empty chair. She remembered the last five years of waiting in the dark.
"You're late," she said. Her voice was steady, void of the tremor she had been carrying all day.
You took a tentative step into the room, your eyes scanning the space, landing on the dark, clean dining table. You saw the absence of the meal, the absence of the celebration. You saw the vacancy in her expression.
"I know," you said, you voice cracking slightly. "I know. The patient in ICU—we lost him, Chae. It was… it was a disaster. I tried to call, but my phone—it died in the scrub room, and I couldn't get away, and—"
You reached for her, a gesture of instinctual comfort, but Chaeyoung pulled the blanket tighter around herself, physically retreating into the corner of the sofa. The movement was small, but to you, it was a barricade.
"Don't," she whispered.
"Chaeyoung, please. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."
You stopped, your hand hanging in the air, trembling slightly. The silence between them stretched, pulling taut until it hummed. It was the sound of a cliff edge, and for the first time in their relationship, Chaeyoung didn't reach out to pull you back. She simply watched you stand there, a doctor who could save a life in a sterile, bright room, but who had no idea how to heal the one thing that was dying right in front of you.
She wasn't waiting anymore. She was just existing in the space you left behind. And in that stillness, for the first time in years, the crushing weight of her own needs, her own loneliness, rose up to meet her. She realized, with a terrifying, calm certainty, that she didn't want to be the woman who waited anymore.
She was tired of the silence. She was tired of the cold side of the bed. She was tired of being the only one who remembered the things that mattered.
The apartment groaned as the building settled, a sound like a ship straining against its moorings. Chaeyoung closed her eyes, but her mind remained sharp, a needle hovering over a record. The love was still there—a dull, aching throb in her chest—but it was no longer enough to anchor her. She had reached the edge of the world she’d built for them, and for the first time, she was looking down into the dark, and she wasn't afraid of the fall.
The silence of the apartment was no longer just the absence of sound; it was a physical weight, settling into the corners of the room like cooling ash. Chaeyoung sat on the edge of the mattress, the darkness of the bedroom pressing against her skin.
She held her phone in her lap, her thumb hovering over the screen, watching it go dark. She had checked it every three minutes for the last four hours. No texts. No missed calls. No cryptic "be there soon" updates. Just the cold, digital graveyard of their conversation history. A thread of reminders for groceries, requests for his shift schedule, and the lingering echoes of her own unanswered "Thinking of you" messages.
Her patience, a resource she had once thought inexhaustible, had finally hit the bottom of the well. It wasn't a sudden explosion; it was a slow, quiet drainage. The realization felt less like anger and more like clarity.
She stood up, her movements heavy, and walked to the window. She pulled the sheer curtain back just a fraction. Below, the city was alive—cars sliding through the wet streets, people hurrying toward their own destinations, toward lives that existed in tandem with someone else’s. She felt a profound sense of detachment, as if she were a ghost haunting the apartment they had built together.
She walked back to the bed and lay down, staring at the empty pillow beside her. She didn't fluff it. She didn't check the alarm clock. She simply sat, her back straight, her hands folded over her knees. The numbness began to set in, a defensive armor designed to keep the jagged edges of the last few years from cutting any deeper.
She realized then that she really wasn't waiting for him anymore. That was the pivot point. When she heard the low rumble of your car pulling into the driveway, it didn't stir a flutter of excitement in her chest. It didn't make her want to fix her hair or soften her expression. It was just an intrusion.
She turned away from the door, lying down on her side, facing the closet. She pulled the duvet up to her chin, the fabric feeling like a barrier between her and the world. When the front door finally clicked open—a sound that echoed through the hollow apartment like a gunshot—she didn't move. She didn't call out his name.
The heavy, rhythmic thud of your boots on the hardwood floors drew closer, dragging the scent of hospital-grade soap and stale coffee with them. The air in the room seemed to shift as you walked in. She could feel you standing in the doorway, his presence an interruption to the silence she had finally learned to own.
You didn't turn on the light. You hesitated, your breathing ragged and shallow, the way it always was when you came home from a double shift. You hovered there, a shadow in the doorway, perhaps sensing the shift in the air, perhaps realizing that the energy of the room had changed.
"Chaeyoung?"
Your voice was a rasp, stripped of its usual professional resonance. It was the voice of a man who had spent the last fourteen hours speaking to nurses and patients, a man who had left his empathy in the emergency bay.
She remained perfectly still. Her heartbeat didn't accelerate; it remained a steady, rhythmic thrum of resolve.
"I know you're awake," you said, stepping into the room. The floorboards creaked under your weight. "I'm sorry. The shift went over, then there was the intake, and then—"
"Don't," she whispered.
The word wasn't loud, but it cut through the air with a finality that seemed to freeze you in place. She kept her eyes fixed on the closet door, staring at the grain of the wood as if it held the answers to why she had stayed for so long.
"Don't start with the excuses, YN. I’ve heard them all. I’ve cataloged them. I’ve lived them."
You stopped at the foot of the bed. She could feel your gaze, heavy and confused, searching for the woman who usually rushed to meet you, the woman who usually dissolved the tension of your day with a warm meal and a softer touch. You were looking for the safety you took for granted, the harbor that was always supposed to be there.
"It's our anniversary," you said, your voice dropping into that tone of bruised confusion you used when you couldn't grasp why your world was failing.
"Was," she corrected. "It was our anniversary."
She shifted slightly, the movement sharp and deliberate. She wasn't angry anymore—the anger had burned itself out, leaving behind a cold, crystalline certainty. She was exhausted, not by the work of the day, but by the work of the relationship. It had become a full-time job she hadn't applied for: the job of being the one who stood still, the one who held the space, the one who remained in the bed, waiting for a ghost to manifest.
"Chaeyoung, please," you breathed, stepping closer, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder.
She pulled away, inching toward the very edge of the mattress. The physical distance between them felt like an ocean.
"I spent three years waiting for you to walk through that door, YN. I spent three years learning to exist in the margins of your life, between the pages of your medical journals and the rings of your pager. I thought if I was patient enough, if I was understanding enough, eventually, the scale would tip back to center."
She turned her head, finally looking at you. In the faint light, you looked like a stranger—pale, sunken-eyed, your scrubs rumpled and stained. You looked like exactly what you were: a man who gave everything you had to the world, and left absolutely nothing for the woman who loved you.
"I’m done," she said. The words were flat, devoid of theatrics. They were simply the truth. "I’m done being the person who waits. I’m done being the ghost in this apartment. You have your life, YN. You have your patients and your responsibilities and your exhaustion. Keep them. Because I’m not going to be the price of your success anymore."
The silence returned, but this time, it was brittle. You stood there, your hand still suspended in the air, your fingers trembling ever so slightly. The reality of her words began to settle over you, not as a misunderstanding you could correct, but as a permanent tectonic shift.
"You can't mean that," you whispered, your voice cracking. "We're us. You're my… you're the only thing that keeps me grounded."
"Then you’ve been drifting for a long time," she said. She turned back toward the closet, her face once again a mask of stone. "And I’m tired of trying to hold you down."
"I know the life you chose. I know the sacrifices you make for them. I’ve known it for five years. But tonight, I realized something. You never stop to think if you’re sacrificing me in the process."
You blinked, your expression shifting from defensive exhaustion to a jarring, genuine confusion. "Sacrificing you? Chaeyoung, I do this for us. So we have a future. So we can afford—"
"I don't want the life we can afford, YN! I want the life we’re supposed to be living!" She sits up, the movement abrupt. The darkness of the room feels smaller now, the space between them charged with the electricity of a dying connection. "I am always waiting. Always. I wait for you to come home, I wait for you to wake up, I wait for you to stop being a doctor for ten consecutive minutes. I’m not a person to you anymore. I’m a fixture. A piece of furniture you come home to when the shift is over, expecting me to be exactly where you left me, exactly as you left me."
"That's not fair," you started, but your voice broke. You are staring at her, really staring, and for the first time, you aren’t looking through her or past her to the next day’s schedule. You’re seeing the hollowness in her eyes, the way her hands are trembling in her lap.
"Is it?" she asks, her voice rising, losing its icy control. "Tell me one thing about my week, YN. Just one. Tell me what I did yesterday. Tell me if I was happy or if I was sad. You can’t, can you? Because you haven't looked at me. Not truly. You’ve been in that hospital, and I’ve been in this bed, and we haven't been in the same room for a very long time."
You opened your mouth to speak, but the words seem to fail you. You looked down at your hands—the hands that saved lives today, the hands that were too busy to send a text, too busy to care that he was breaking a promise. You began to see it: the birthdays marked by empty chairs, the missed calls, the quiet, hollow space in the apartment that you had conveniently ignored because he was too tired to acknowledge the truth.
"I didn't mean..." you stopped. The weight of your failures hits you, not as a professional critique, but as a personal bereavement. You realized, with a sudden, sickening clarity, that you haven't just been busy. You had been completely absent. You had been failing the one person who anchored you to the world outside the hospital walls.
You reached out again, but this time, you stopped inches away, your fingers curling into the sheets. The bravado, the arrogance of your professional life, crumbles. Your shoulders slump, and you let out a jagged, broken breath that sounds dangerously close to a sob.
"I’m losing you, am I?" he whispers, the realization tearing through him. "Oh God, I’m actually losing you."
You remember the first time you bought this place. You’d carried her over the threshold, laughing about the mortgage and the life you were going to build. You promised her then that this wouldn't be a house where she’d wait alone. You promised her that no matter how many lives you had to save, hers would always be the one that mattered most.
But as the door swung open tonight, the darkness that greeted you was heavy with the weight of all the times you’d been late, all the times you’d called from the nurse's station with a voice crackling with exhaustion to tell her to eat without you.
The air in the foyer was stagnant. It didn't smell like the lavender candles she used to light or the cinnamon she’d bake with on Sundays. It smelled like dust and disappointment. You stood there for a long time, the weight of your medical bag pulling at your shoulder, looking at the coat rack where her jacket hung—a solitary, discarded thing.
You had thought, for a fleeting moment on the drive home, that maybe she would be asleep. Maybe you could slide into bed, press your cold feet against hers, and deal with the fallout in the morning over coffee. But the silence in the house told you otherwise. It wasn't the silence of sleep; it was the silence of a house holding its breath. It was the silence of a woman who had finally stopped listening for the sound of your car in the driveway.
Every step you took toward the kitchen, then the bedroom, it has come to your clarity that it felt like an intrusion. You were a trespasser in your own life, a man who knew the layout of the rooms but had forgotten the soul of the person living within them. The turning of that key hadn't just opened the door; it had unlocked the box where she had been keeping all her resentment, and now, the room was flooding with it.
Chaeyoung looks at you, her heart aching with the familiar, terrible pull of your vulnerability. She wants to reach out, to hold you, to tell you it’s all right, but the armor she’s worn all night won't let her. She is standing on the edge of a cliff, and she is terrifyingly aware that one wrong step will send her tumbling into a life without you.
"You already lost me, YN," she says, her voice barely audible. "Tonight was just the moment I decided to admit it."
She turns away, lying back down, pulling the covers up to her chin. The finality of her movement hits you like a physical blow. You remained frozen on the edge of the bed, the silence of the room now heavy with the weight of everything they haven't said and everything you have destroyed. You looked at her back, a line of silent, stubborn refusal, and you felt the floor disappearing beneath you.
You didn’t move. You can't. The mask of the doctor has fallen, and for the first time in years, you are just a man, terrified and alone, watching the person who defines your world begin to fade into the dark.
"Go, YN. It isn’t working."
Her voice is low, but it cuts through the hum of the air conditioner like a scalpel. She finally looks at you, and her eyes aren't filled with the anger you expected. They are filled with something far more dangerous: resignation.
"Chaeyoung, please," you say, stepping closer to the bed. Your legs feel like lead. "I know I messed up tonight. I know it’s the anniversary. I had every intention of being here by six. I had the flowers in the car—"
"The flowers are probably dead by now," she says, a ghostly smile flickering on her lips. "Just like the ones from my birthday. And the ones from the night I got my promotion. You buy flowers like they’re a ransom to get yourself out of the guilt you feel for not being here."
"That’s not fair!," you snap, the fatigue making your temper fray at the edges. "I don't choose to have patients crash. I don't choose to spend sixteen hours on my feet until my back and hands feels like it's going to numb and snap. I do this for us. For our future."
Chaeyoung stands up then, the silk of her dress clinging to her as she moves toward you. She stops just inches away, and for the first time in months, you are forced to see her—really see her. There’s a smudge of mascara beneath her lower lash line. Her lips are pale. She looks like a woman who has been mourning a living person.
"For us?" she whispers, her voice shaking now. "Which 'us' are you talking about? The 'us' that hasn't had a real conversation in six months? The 'us' where I sleep on one side of a king-sized bed that feels like a desert? You keep saying you do this for our future, but you're killing our present to pay for a tomorrow I’m not sure I want to be a part of anymore."
She reaches out, not to touch you, but to gesture toward the door. "I’ve spent five years being the wife of a great surgeon. I’m done being the wife of an absent man. I can’t do it anymore. I’m hurting so much that I can’t even feel my own heart. I want you to leave. Not just the room. I want you to leave this relationship."
The words hit you with the force of a physical blow. You’ve seen patients receive terminal diagnoses—the way their faces go slack, the way the light leaves their eyes. You recognize that expression because you can feel it settling onto your own features.
"You don't mean that," you say, your voice cracking. "You're just hurt. We're both exhausted."
"No," she says, her voice gaining a terrifying clarity. "I've never been more awake. I've spent the last six hours sitting at that table, watching the candles burn down, and I realized that if I left right now, you wouldn't even notice for three days. That’s not a life, YN. That’s a haunting."
"I told you, it was an emergency. Do you think I wanted to be there? Do you think I enjoy missing our anniversary?" You shifted, your body turning toward her, your movements frantic now, a desperate attempt to bridge the distance. "I’m the one who’s been on my feet for fourteen hours. I’m the one who hasn't had a drop of water since noon. I’m exhausted, Chaeyoung. I’m just... I’m done. Can we please just sleep?"
You tried to shift closer, his knee digging into the mattress, his hand finally finding the fabric of her pajamas.
Chaeyoung reacted with a violence that startled even her. She shoved the duvet off, a sudden, fluid motion that pushed you away, and distanced herself. The movement was sharp, dismissive. She didn't look at you; she looked past you, at the dark space he had occupied for the better part of their five years.
"Sleep?" she echoed, a hollow laugh escaping her throat. "You think this is about one night, YN? You’re making it seem that I’m just here, fuming because of a dinner that went cold?"
"It was never about the dinner," she said, her voice dropping into a register so quiet it forced you to lean in, to hang on every syllable. "It was about the last three years. It was about the birthday you forgot while you were in surgery. It was about my mother’s hospital stay where you never visited once because you were ‘on call.’ It was about the way you walk through that door every single night and expect me to be your recovery room."
You opened your mouth, your jaw working as if you were trying to find the clinical explanation for this, the rational, medical reason for the breakdown of their life. But the words died in your throat. You looked at her, truly looked at her, and for the first time, he seemed to register the absence of the warmth you had always taken for granted.
"I’ve been waiting for you to come home, YN," she continued, her voice trembling now, the dam finally beginning to crack. "But you’re never really here. You’re always in the O.R. You’re always on a consult. You’re always with someone else, fixing someone else’s life while yours—ours—is bleeding out on the floor right behind you."
She stood up then, the sudden absence of her body weight making the bed seem to tilt. She stood tall, though her legs felt like lead.
"I’m done, YN. I’m not waiting for another call. I’m not waiting for another ‘sorry.’ I’m finished."
She walked toward the bedroom door, leaving you sitting there in the dark, the man who knew how to save hearts failing to see the one that had just stopped beating for you. You scrambled off the bed, your movements uncoordinated and frantic, but you stopped when you saw her hand on the doorframe, her knuckles white, her body trembling with a resolve that felt more permanent than death.
"Chaeyoung, stop," you choked out, his professional mask finally splintering, leaving nothing behind but the raw, terrifying face of a man who suddenly realized you were going to be alone in the room. "Don’t walk out. Please. Don’t walk out."
You reached out, your hand hovering in the stagnant air between them, your fingers twitching with an instinct you no longer had the right to act upon. Chaeyoung didn’t flinch, but the way she pulled her shoulder blades back—a defensive armor she’d been forging for years—was enough to make you retract your hand as if burned.
“Get your hands off me!," she yelled. The word wasn't a shout; it was a blade, thin and surgical.
"Chae, please," you stammered. The clinical precision you used to diagnose patients had abandoned you, leaving only a stuttering, desperate mess of a man in scrubs that smelled of stale coffee and harsh, chemical cleaners. "It was an emergency. A trauma case. The kind of thing I—"
"The kind of thing you can't walk away from. I get it, YN. It always has been like that." she finished for him, her voice eerily steady. She turned fully toward him now, the shadows of the room carving deep, hollow lines into her face.
"I know the script, YN. I’ve heard the monologue for years. The trauma ward, the surgery that ran late, the mentor who wouldn't let you leave. It’s a beautiful story about a hero saving lives. It really is, but it’s getting too repetitive now."
She stepped away from the doorframe, moving toward the dresser, her movements deliberate and terrifyingly graceful. She didn't look at you, but her presence filled the room, heavy with the weight of everything she had swallowed to keep you comfortable.
She walked to the window, staring out at the blurred city lights, the neon glow casting a sickly blue tint over her features. "I spent the afternoon picking out the wine you like. I spent two hours trying to get the roast just right. And for what? So I could sit in the dark, watching the clock tick, feeling my heart harden into something I don’t even recognize anymore?"
"I'm here now," you said, your voice cracking. You felt a sudden, violent vertigo, as if the foundation of his world—the structure he’d leaned on while he climbed his professional ladder—was tilting. "I’m here now, and I’m ready to be present. But c-could you just... just give me a moment to breathe. I haven't sat down in hours."
"That is exactly the problem," Chaeyoung snapped, turning to face him, her hands trembling at her sides. "You’re always just coming from somewhere else. You’re always exhausted, always carrying the weight of the hospital on your shoulders, and you’ve left no room for me to exist in this space with you. I am not a patient, YN. I am not an intern waiting for your feedback or a nurse waiting for your orders. I am the woman who loved you when you were nothing but a student eating ramen alone and depressed on the famous Japanese resto of this neighborhood. And I am the woman you have slowly, systematically erased."
You felt the phantom sting of memories rushing back, unbidden and cruel. The way she’d then stood at the door, smiling, trying to be the supportive partner while you barely remembered to ask how her day had been. You’d seen her sadness as a temporary inconvenience, something that would resolve itself once his career stabilized.
But looking at her now—at the cold, detached set of her jaw—you realized you’d been treating their love like a reservoir you could draw from endlessly without ever refilling.
"I didn't realize," you whispered, the admission tasting like ash. "I thought... I thought you understood. I thought we were a team in this."
"A team?" Chaeyoung moved closer, invading his space, her eyes searching yours for a spark of the man you used to be. "A team supports each other. A team shows up. You haven't shown up frequently, on time… in years! You’ve been a visitor in your own life, and I’ve been the curator of your neglect."
She gestured toward the door, her resolve hardening again. "I’m tired of being an anchor that just drags you down because you’re too busy swimming away. I’m done, YN. Not because I don't love you—God, I wish it were that simple—but because I can't keep disappearing while you’re out there saving everyone else."
You reached out, grabbing her wrist—not with force, but with a desperate, frantic need for contact. When she didn't pull away, you took a half-step closer, his forehead dropping to rest against her shoulder, your breath hitching in a sob you hadn't known was coming.
"Don't go," you rasped, his voice muffled against her skin. "Please. If you walk out that door and leave this bedroom, everything I’ve been working for... it just becomes empty. It’s all noise. It’s all just... cold rooms and paperwork. You’re the only thing that makes any of this worth it. I know I’ve been a shell. I know I’ve been a disaster. But if you leave, I have nothing."
Chaeyoung went rigid. The vulnerability in your voice was a physical blow, worse than your excuses, worse than your silence. It was the naked truth of your brokenness, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the silence pressing in, demanding she decide whether to let you crumble or to reach down and help him up one last time.
She stood there, trapped between the agony of her own resentment through her soft spot on you and the crushing realization that you were quite literally, pleading for your life. She looked down at you—at the man who had been her everything, now bowing beneath the weight of his own hubris—and felt the first, hot prick of tears finally escape.
"You don't get to have me," she whispered, her voice thick with pain, "and have the version of the life you want, YN. It’s not that easy to just be grabbed. You have to choose first."
"I choose you, and always you." You choked out, your grip on her wrist tightening, your hands shaking violently against her skin. "I choose you. I’ll quit the committee. I’ll take a leave. I’ll do anything. Take it, take it all I have. I’ll give it all away just to have you back. Just... look at me. Don't look past me anymore, Chae. Please, look at me."
Chaeyoung let out a shaky breath, her gaze fixing on the wall behind you as she fought the overwhelming urge to pull you close and bury the last five years in an embrace. The room felt suspended in time, the air heavy with the debris of their shared history. She wasn't convinced.
She wasn't even sure if you could finally change. But as you stood there, stripped of every ounce of your professional dignity, she saw the terrifying truth: you were as lost as she was, and neither of them knew how to survive the night.
She tries to flinch as if your touch were fire. The rejection is visceral. For years, your touch was her anchor—the thing that could pull her back from a bad day or a moment of doubt. Now, you are the source of the storm.
“Stop…," she says, stepping back until she’s pressed against the dresser. The jewelry boxes on top rattle with the movement. "Don't try to cling on me and make it okay. That’s your move, isn't it? You come home late, you see I’m upset, and you think a hug or a kiss is going to reset the clock. You think intimacy is a cure for neglect."
"I don't think that," you say, though a part of you knows she’s right. It’s been your shorthand for an apology—the physical closeness to bridge the emotional distance you’ve allowed to grow.
She wraps her hands around as she endures, a defensive posture that makes her look small and fragile. "You use your body to hide the fact that your soul isn't here. When we’re in this bed, you’re present for an hour, and then you’re gone. You’re back at the hospital, thinking about the next surgery, the next patient, the next accolade. I’m just the place where you crash when you can’t run anymore."
The coldness in her eyes is like a frost creeping over a windowpane. You try to step toward her again, to explain the pressure, the sheer volume of lives resting on your shoulders, but she just shakes her head.
"I used to wait for you with the porch light on," she whispers. "I used to get excited when I heard your car. Now, the sound of that car just makes my stomach knot because I know the person who’s walking through the door isn't the man I fell in love with. He’s just a ghost wearing his face."
She turns away from you, staring into the mirror, but she isn't looking at herself. She’s looking at the ghost behind her, clutching at her like she’s his life support.
You laid your head on her shoulder, ignoring the ache in your muscles, the lingering smell of the ICU that usually made him feel important, everything. The exhaustion.
You are there not just to touch her, but to try to bridge the chasm that had opened between them. You can indeed feel the weight of every missed birthday, every skipped dinner, every time she’d reach for your hand in the dark and found it empty. The flashes came thick and fast now—the look on her face when you’d missed their anniversary two years ago, the way she’d sat on the edge of the bed when you’d had to cancel their weekend away, the quiet, resigned way she’d learned to stop asking.
You had convinced himself you were doing this for the two of you. You suddenly realized you had only been doing it for his own ego, your own pursuit of status, convinced that she would always be the anchor, always be the one waiting, always be the one who stayed.
"I’m leaving in the morning," she said, focused at the moon illuminating the glass of the window.. "I just... I needed you to know why. Not because I stopped loving you. That’s the tragedy, isn't it? I still do. But I’ve realized that loving you is costing me my own life."
You started to sob hard, the terrifying finality of her posture hitting you harder than any medical crisis he’d ever faced. The professional 'Dr. LN' was gone. There was only a man who had suddenly, violently, realized your house was on fire, and you were the one who had dropped the match.
The silence that follows is filled with the ghosts of every promise you’ve broken. It’s not just tonight. Tonight was simply the final stone that caused the mountain to slide.
You remember last Christmas. She had planned a trip to a cabin in the mountains, a week of no cell service and only the sound of the wind in the pines. You were halfway there, the car packed with blankets and cocoa, when the call came. A mass casualty event. A bus crash. You’d looked at her, and before you could even say the words, she’d seen it in your eyes. She’d turned the car around without a word, dropping you at the ER entrance and driving home alone to spend the holidays with a pre-cooked turkey and the glow of the television.
Then there was the gallery opening. Her first solo show. She had worked for a year on those paintings, pouring every ounce of her frustration and love into the canvas. You’d promised to be there for the ribbon cutting. You’d even bought a new suit. But a "quick" consultation turned into an emergency bypass, and by the time you arrived, the gallery lights were dimmed and she was sitting on the floor with a bottle of cheap champagne, surrounded by the art you hadn't even bothered to look at yet.
"I remember the look on your face when you finally showed up," Chaeyoung says, her voice breaking the silence, as if she’s reading your mind. "You looked so tired that I couldn't even be mad. That’s the trap you set for me. You work so hard that you make it impossible for me to demand anything from you without feeling selfish."
She counts them off on her fingers, her voice trembling. "The weddings we missed. The funerals I went to alone. The dinners that went cold. The nights I spent crying in the shower so you wouldn't hear me when you finally crawled into bed at 3:00 AM. I’ve spent five years apologizing to everyone else for your absence, but who’s going to apologize to me?"
Each memory is a sharp, jagged piece of glass. You realize now that you haven't been building a career; you’ve been building a wall, brick by brick, missed moment by missed moment. And now, the wall is so high that you can barely see her over the top of it.
"I didn't mean for it to be like this," you say, but the words sound hollow even to you.
"No one ever does," she replies. "But this is what it is."
"I didn't want the world, YN. I wanted you. Just you. Not the doctor. Not the hero of the trauma unit. Just the man who used to make coffee on Sunday mornings before the pager ruined our lives."
You looked at your hands. They were steady hands—hands that had stitched arteries and stabilized hearts. But right now, they felt like clumsy, blood-stained instruments of destruction. You had viewed your life as a ledger where you were always in the black, accumulating success to pay for a future with her. You hadn't realized that the currency you were spending was their present.
The room began to spin. You felt a sudden, suffocating panic, the kind he usually reserved for patients flatlining on the table. But there was no protocol here. There was no crash cart to bring their intimacy back to life.
You thought of your mentor, Jiwon, and her cold, pragmatic advice: ‘Commitment to the craft requires sacrifice, YN. You cannot be a great physician and a soft man simultaneously.’ For years, you had accepted that as gospel. You had worn your exhaustion like a badge of honor, ignoring the woman who was slowly dissolving beside you.
You looked at Chaeyoung, really looked at her, and saw the depth of the crater you had carved into her life. The realization hit you with the force of a physical blow. You weren't the victim of a demanding career; you were the primary architect of your own ruin. You had been so obsessed with being a savior in the halls of the hospital that you had become a spectator to the slow death of your own heart.
"You're right," you whispered, the admission tearing through him. "You're right about all of it. I’ve been living in a dream where my absence was a noble sacrifice. But it wasn't. It was just... it was just me being a coward. I was afraid that if I stopped, if I slowed down, I’d have to look at myself and realize I was terrified of being ordinary again. So I chose the hospital. I chose the noise. And I left you to starve in the silence."
You finally let your hand land on the mattress, not grabbing for her, but resting there, open and vulnerable. You felt small. For the first time in your life, you didn't want to be the man in charge. You wanted to be the man she needed.
"I don't expect you to believe me," you continued, your voice thick with tears you hadn't realized were falling. "I don't expect you to trust the words of a man who has spent years lying to you, even if I was lying to myself first. But I am empty, Chae. I have nothing left to give that hospital with how much responsibilities there are giving me a burden. They’ve taken everything. And if I lose you, I have nothing left at all."
You leaned forward, your forehead coming to rest against her nape. You didn't demand her affection. You didn't ask for a promise. You just waited, trembling, in the dark, bracing yourself for the possibility that the silence would continue—or worse, that she would finally stand up and walk out of the room, leaving you to the ghost of the life you had so carelessly discarded.
The stiffness of her body against yours felt like the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly gone cold. You breathed in the scent of her hair, trying to memorize it, terrified that it might be the last time he’d ever have the chance. The transition from the man he had been—the iron-willed, indispensable doctor—to the broken, pleading man on the bed was complete. The armor was off. And in the freezing air of their bedroom, he felt the true, agonizing chill of reality.
Chaeyoung finally let out a long, shuddering breath. It wasn't a sob, just the sound of a lung finally being allowed to expand after being held under water. She shifted, turning slightly toward him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, glassy in the moonlight, reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and a deep, terrifying residual love.
"You don't get to burn it all down, YN," she said softly. "You worked too hard to become this person. But you do have to decide if that person has any room for me. Because I am tired of living in the margins of your schedule. I am tired of existing in the 'if I have time' gaps between your rounds."
"There are no gaps," you promised, your voice thick with a desperate, sudden intensity. "There is only this. Whatever time I have left, whatever piece of me is still salvageable… it’s yours. It has to be yours. Because if I lose this—if I lose you—then everything I’ve done, every sacrifice, every moment I chose the hospital over our bed… our home, it was all for nothing. I’ll just be a man in a white coat with a hollow chest."
You reached out, cupping her face, your thumb tracing the damp trail of a tear on her cheek. She didn't pull away, though her expression remained guarded, a fortress still under siege.
"I'm not a patient person anymore, YN," she whispered a warning. "The patient person died somewhere between the cold dinner date and the sound of your key in the door tonight."
"Then be the angry person," you pleaded, your forehead pressing against hers. "Be the person who holds me accountable. Be the person who drags me back from the hospital when I try to disappear into it. Just… don’t be the person who is silent. Don't be the person who is already gone."
Her gaze searched yours, looking for the lie, looking for the doctor who was already thinking about your morning charts. She found only a terrifying, raw vacancy, a man stripped of his armor, staring at the ruin he had made of their home.
"I don't know if I can do this," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I don't know if I can wake up tomorrow and pretend that the last five years were just a mistake."
"Don't pretend," you whispered, closing the distance between their lips, not with the hunger of a lover, but with the desperation of a man drowning. "Just stay. Just stay in this bed, for one more hour. Let me show you how to be someone else. Let me show how to be the man you deserve, instead of the doctor you've been stuck with."
She didn't kiss you back immediately, but she didn't push you away. She let out another breath, a broken, shaky thing, and slowly, agonizingly, she closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of your chest. It wasn't a resolution. It wasn't a promise of a happy ending. It was a surrender to the uncertainty, a thin, fraying thread of connection that both of them were terrified to snap.
You held her, heart hammering against your ribs. Chaeyoung felt the wall she had built—the one made of stone and quiet resentment— is cracking with every beat from you.
It wasn't the promises that reached her; she had heard those before, wrapped in excuses. It was the nakedness of your fear. For the first time in years, you weren't looking through her, analyzing her needs or prioritizing her feelings as a task to be checked off. You were simply existing with her in the wreckage.
Her hand moved of its own accord, coming up to rest over yours. Your pulse was thrumming against her palm, erratic and fast. The room felt suddenly like a pressure cooker, the silence ringing with everything that remained unsaid.
You leaned in, your forehead resting against hers, their breathing synchronization shifting, hitching in unison. It was a surrender. The surgical mask you’d worn for years had been torn away, leaving only the soft, bruised skin of a man who realized you had been starving himself while holding a feast.
Chaeyoung closed her eyes, the bitterness in her throat struggling against the sudden, overwhelming swell of tenderness. It was a violent internal collision—the memory of every missed anniversary, every cold dinner, every lonely night, warring against the warmth of his skin and the genuine, unvarnished terror in his eyes.
She felt your tears now, dampening her temple. You were shaking, a deep, shuddering tremor that moved through you into her. It was the most honest you had been since the day they met, and it was that honesty that terrified her more than your absence ever had. Because if you could be this real, this vulnerable, then she couldn't dismiss you as a monster or a machine.
She had to acknowledge that you were just a human, just as flawed and frightened as she was.
"I’m so tired," she breathed, her voice breaking on the final word.
"I know, me too." he whispered back, his grip tightening as if to keep her from drifting away into the shadows of the room. "Let’s just sleep for now. Just... stay here. Don't look at the clock. Don't look at your phone. Just be here, with me, in this bed. That’s all I’m asking. One more night. One more chance."
You were desperate, a man clinging to the edge of a cliff, and she was the only hand left to hold. Chaeyoung let out a long, shuddering sigh, her body finally sagging into yours. She didn't say yes—she couldn't force the word out, not when the hurt was still so fresh—but she didn't pull away.
She turned into you, her face finding the crook of your neck, the familiar scent of you flooding her senses. It was a compromise, a bridge built over a chasm she wasn't sure could be crossed. As she continues to feel your arms wrap firmly around her, pulling her close as if she were the oxygen you needed to survive, she allowed herself one moment of reprieve.
The battle was far from over. The morning would come, and with it, the cold light of reality, the demands of the hospital, and the jagged pieces of their broken trust. But for this second, in the suffocating, silent dark, she simply breathed. She gave herself permission to stop fighting, to stop guarding the door, and to simply exist in the wreckage, wondering if they were actually capable of building something new from the ash.
She lay there, held by the man who had nearly lost her, she realized that walking away would have been an ending. This—this messy, painful, uncertain reconciliation—was at least a chance to breathe.
She gripped your shirt, her knuckles white, her body finally softening into his. It was a surrender to the depth of her own heart, a choice to stay on the precipice and see if they could truly survive the fall.
"Don't make me lonely again, especially… lie." she breathed, her voice a fragile anchor in the dark. "Don't promise me everything. Just promise me you'll show up. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard."
You tightened your hold, a desperate, silent vow etched into the way you held her, as if you were trying to weld their bodies together to stop the world from pulling them apart. "I’m here," you whispered, a promise that sounded more like a prayer. "I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere."
She was still here, caught in the wreckage of a five-year love, holding on to the one thing she hadn't been able to leave behind. She was terrified of the morning, terrified of the sirens, terrified of the next time the pager might call him away. But for this one moment, as your chest rose and fell against hers, she stayed. She stayed, and she waited for a future that was no longer guaranteed.
The decision isn't a grand gesture or a dramatic declaration. It’s found in the way she finally lets go of her head resting on your shoulder to give you a short passionate kiss on the lips. It’s found in the way she stops pulling away and starts leaning in.
"One more chance," she says, her voice low and steady. "But that’s it, YN. I don't have another 'one more chance' in me. If you walk out that door tomorrow and you don't come back when you say you will, I won't be here when you get home. I can't keep doing this to myself."
The weight of her words is a promise you know you have to keep. This isn't just about tonight; it’s about every tomorrow from here on out. It’s about the hard work of rebuilding trust, brick by brick, moment by moment. It’s about learning to say no to the hospital so you can say yes to the woman in your arms.
"I hear you," you say, kissing her back then at the top of her head. "I promise, Chaeyoung. I’m going to make this right. I’m going to be the husband you deserve."
She nods against you, a small, weary movement. "I want to believe you. I really do."
"I'll give you a reason to," you vow.
The anger that had filled the room earlier has been replaced by a quiet, bittersweet exhaustion. The hurt is still there—you can feel it in the way she still tenses occasionally, in the way she won't quite meet your eyes for more than a second—but the decision to stay has been made. For tonight, the breakup has been averted. For tonight, you are still 'us.'
You lie there in the dark, holding her until her breathing slows and her body goes limp with sleep. You don't close your eyes. You spend the rest of the night watching the shadows move across the ceiling, thinking about the work ahead. You realize that saving a life is easy compared to saving a relationship, but as you feel her warmth against you, you know it’s the only surgery that matters now.
The silence in the room wasn't empty; it was dense, suffocating, and textured with the debris of the last hour. Your chest rose and fell in a jagged rhythm against her back. Your arm, heavy and leaden, was draped over her waist, your fingers curled loosely against her ribs as if you were afraid that if you tightened your grip, she would shatter, and if you let go, she would vanish.
When the first light of dawn begins to filter through the curtains, it doesn't bring the usual sense of dread that comes with another long day at the hospital. Instead, it brings a quiet clarity. The room is no longer bathed in the blue of the lamp, but in the soft, pale gold of a new morning.
Chaeyoung is still asleep, her face peaceful in a way you haven't seen in years. The lines of tension around her mouth have softened, and she looks younger, more like the girl you fell in love with all those years ago. You watch her for a long time, the silence of the morning a gift you haven't allowed yourself to enjoy in a long time.
Your phone vibrates on the nightstand. It’s a text from the hospital—a surgical consult for an elective procedure. In the past, you would have been out of bed and dressed before you even finished reading the message.
This time, you don't even pick up the phone. You reach over and turn it off, the screen going black and silent. It starts today. The world can wait. The hospital can survive without you for a day.
You slide back under the covers, pulling Chaeyoung closer to you. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open as the light hits them. She looks at you, confused for a moment, and then her memory of the night before returns. She sees the phone on the nightstand, dark and silent.
"You're still here," she whispers in amazement, her voice thick with sleep.
"I’m not going anywhere today," you say, and you mean it more than you’ve ever meant anything in your life. "I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be now.
She reaches out, her hand finding your face, her thumb brushing against your cheek before crunched her nose and let out that soft giggle, the sight that you always loved seeing from her whenever she feels… light.
"God, I don't know how to stop loving you," she said, the honesty of it carving a hollow space in her chest. "That’s the most frustrating part. I’m furious at you. I’m hurt. I feel like I’ve been starving for five years, YN. And yet, when you look at me like that, I still want to reach out."
You nodded slowly with a grin, your gaze remains to the beauty in your arms. "You have the time in your hands now, Chae. You can do that everyday and I won’t do anything no more that would make you stop.
Hence, that’s why I’m considering stepping down from my position.."
Chaeyoung blinked, the breath catching in her throat. "You do?
"Yeah, I’ll tell them I’m done with the extra administrative load. It’s a step back, maybe. It’ll make people look at me differently. I can’t be the man they want me to be and be the man you need me to be at the same time.
“I meant it when I say I will always choose you. Even if I’m always late, I come home not because I want to simply rest, I needed my wife. I know that sounds like a line, but I mean it, although I was wrong of the way how I do it.
But now, I’ll take the hit. I’ll take the smaller workload. Whatever it takes to be home by seven, or to actually answer when you call, not six hours later."
You finally reached out, your hand hovering over hers. You didn’t force the contact; you waited. Chaeyoung looked at your hand—the same hand that had held scalpels and saved lives, the same hand that had missed her birthdays and ignored her texts. She felt the tremor in your fingers. You were terrified.
Slowly, she slid her hand into you. Your skin was cool, clammy from the residual stress of his shift, but your grip was iron-clad, desperate.
"Don't do it because you're scared of losing me," she whispered, her eyes searching yours. "Do it because you want to be a person again. If you burn out for me, I’ll end up resenting you for the sacrifice, and we’ll be right back here in six months."
You squeezed her hand, a small, sad smile touching his lips. "I’m not burning out for you this time, Chae. I’m waking up for you. There’s a difference."
The room was getting brighter. The shadows were retreating, revealing the reality of their surroundings—the stack of books on the nightstand, the discarded clothes, the intimate mess of a life shared but neglected. It looked different in the dawn light. It looked salvageable, but only if they were willing to work through the rubble.
Chaeyoung moved closer. The physical distance she had maintained for the last few hours was finally bridged. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, smelling the faint, sharp scent of his soap—a scent she had once associated with comfort, then with abandonment, and now, with a strange, new beginning.
You didn't pull her into a tight, desperate embrace. Instead, you wrapped your arms around her loosely, a gentle, protective perimeter, a simple note that you’re still here. You rested your chin on the top of her head, your heart beating a steady, rhythmic pulse against her ear.
"I’m going to be a better partner," you murmured into her hair. "Not tomorrow. Not 'once things settle down.' Right now. I’m right here."
Chaeyoung closed her eyes, the first true sigh of the night escaping her. She felt the crushing weight of the previous months begin to settle into something she could carry. She wasn't convinced that the damage was fully undone—she knew, with a painful clarity, that there would be days where an anger would flare again. But for this moment, in the quiet, fragile suspension of the morning, she chose to believe him.
"We have to rebuild," she said, her voice muffled against your shirt. "From the ground up. This isn't just about you doing more. It’s about us actually being a team again."
"Whatever the labor is," You replied, your voice firm, "I’m ready for it. I’m not going anywhere, Chae. Not from this bed, not from this house, not from you."
Chaeyoung lifted her head, looking at you. You looked wrecked, aged by the night's confrontation, but there was a clarity in your gaze she hadn't seen in years. You were present. You were finally, fully, there.
She reached up, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had tracked through the stubble on your cheek. She didn't know if they would make it through the year. She didn't know if the trust would ever be as solid as it once was. But as she leaned back into him, she felt the anchor of his arm pulling her down, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she felt safe enough to let go of the vigil.
They lay there in the quiet, the darkness giving way to a gray, uncertain dawn. They didn't speak again for a long time, the weight of the conversation settling between them, a foundation built on confession and the terrifying, beautiful vulnerability of starting over.
There was no grand resolution, no cinematic fade-to-black where the past was magically erased. There was only the bed, the early morning light, and the slow, rhythmic sound of two people breathing in sync, learning how to exist in the same space once again.
The kitchen is still a graveyard of last night’s dinner, but it doesn't feel as desolate as it did when you first walked in. As you and Chaeyoung move through the space together, cleaning up the cold food and the melted wax, there’s a sense of shared purpose that has been missing for a long time.
It’s not perfect. There’s still a distance between you, a caution in your movements as you navigate the space. The hurt hasn't disappeared overnight; it’s still there, a dull ache beneath the surface of your interactions. But the silence is different now. It’s not the silence of neglect; it’s the silence of two people who are learning how to talk to each other again.
"What do you want to do today?" you ask, as you dry the last of the wine glasses.
Chaeyoung looks at you, her expression thoughtful. "I want to go for a walk," she says. "Just a walk. No phones, no talk about work. Just... us."
"I’d like that," you say, and you realize you actually would.
As you leave the house together, the morning air is crisp and clear. You take her hand, and this time, she doesn't flinch. She doesn't pull away. She interlaces her fingers with yours, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re actually moving forward instead of just running in place.
The relationship is fragile, a delicate thing that could still break if you aren't careful. You know there will still be some long nights at the hospital, more emergencies, more times when you’ll be tempted to put your work before her. But as you look at Chaeyoung, her profile silhouetted against the morning sun, you know you’re finally ready to manage it all for her.
You’ve spent your life saving strangers. Now, you’re finally going to save the one person who matters most: her.
She’s a priority that you've turned a blind eye from overworking yourself too much. Your lifeline was her. You need her as much as she does.
You aren't just going to stay in the bed often; you’re staying in the relationship you’ve built together.
And with all certainty, you’ll never gonna leave this life with her.
Word Count: 12k
No smut content, purely plot (Part 2 of Damage Control)
By the time the elevator chimed, the Top Floor had never looked cleaner. Which was impressively suspicious. Because six emotionally compromised adults had tried to prepare a luxury floor for the arrival of nine senior idols, one exhausted manager, and whatever psychological weapon Park Jihyo had decided to bring with her.
The result was less “prepared” and more “crime scene sanitized by guilty people.” Ryujin had hidden anything she personally considered embarrassing. Unfortunately, Ryujin’s definition of embarrassing was deeply unreliable. Yuna had spent twenty minutes asking if certain things counted as evidence. Lia had told her that if she had to ask, the answer was yes. Chaeryeong had focused on food, because apparently she was the only person here with survival instincts. Yeji had tried to keep everyone calm. I had tried to help, nobody believed me.
“You are pacing,” Lia said from the kitchen island.
“I am assessing the room.”
“You have assessed the room nine times.”
“Then the room should feel grateful.”
Ryujin leaned against the counter with a bottle of water in hand “You know, for someone who owns this entire floor, you look like a man waiting for his landlord to inspect the apartment.”
“TWICE is coming here.”
“Yes.”
“All of TWICE.”
“Yes.”
“And you think that is normal.”
Ryujin took a sip of water “No. I think it is funny.” Yuna appeared from the hallway holding a throw pillow “Where do we put this?” I looked at it “On the couch.” She looked down, then back at me “But what if Sana unnie touches it and somehow knows?”
“Knows what?”
“I don’t know. That’s the danger.”
Lia closed her eyes “Please put the pillow down.” Yuna placed it on the couch very carefully, as if the fabric had legal consequences. Chaeryeong walked in with another tray of snacks “Do you think this is enough?” I looked at the table. There were already enough snacks to sustain a small diplomatic summit “Yes.” Chaeryeong frowned “But Momo sunbaenim is coming.” I paused “Good point, get double— no triple the amount.” Chaeryeong immediately turned back toward the kitchen. Ryujin pointed after her “See? That’s leadership.” Yeji looked toward the elevator doors “She’s not wrong.” I rubbed my forehead “Outstanding. We are preparing for TWICE like a siege.”
The elevator chimed again. This time, the doors opened and the siege arrived.
Jihyo stepped out first. She entered like a person who had already read the room, judged the room, and decided she could manage the room before her second foot crossed the threshold.
John followed behind her carrying a folder, looking like a man who had been warned about danger and still walked into it for love, employment, or stupidity. Possibly all three.
Mina came next. Calm. Elegant. Quiet. Her eyes moved across the Top Floor once, then again. Not like someone admiring luxury. Like someone evaluating asset value, security lines, privacy vulnerabilities, and whether the lighting choices were tasteful enough to survive wealth. That honestly made me uncomfortable.
Then came Nayeon. Smiling. Which meant one thing… incoming damage.
Sana appeared behind her, already looking around with delighted curiosity.
Jeongyeon followed with the dry expression of someone expecting nonsense and being disappointed only by how quickly it began.
Momo entered and immediately looked toward the food.
Chaeyoung’s eyes widened as she took in the lounge.
Dahyun looked like she was already preparing commentary.
Tzuyu stepped in last, quiet and composed, then looked through the glass wall toward the city view.
For a moment, everyone simply stood there TWICE looking at the Top Floor. ITZY looking at TWICE. John looking like he wanted hazard pay. Me looking for exits in a floor I owned. Then Nayeon smiled wider “So this is where you’ve been hiding them.” I sighed “Good afternoon to you too.”
Sana moved past her with sparkling eyes “This is so pretty.” Dahyun looked around slowly “Pretty? This is not pretty. This is expensive with emotional intent.” Ryujin pointed at her.
“I like her.”
“I like me too,” Dahyun replied immediately.
Yuna leaned toward Lia and whispered, “I fear her.”
“You should,” Lia whispered back.
Jihyo looked at the lounge, then the kitchen, then the hallway “The entire place is bigger than I expected.” John snorted. “You expected modesty from Ben? I looked at him “You live with TWICE.”
“That is unrelated.” Mina finally spoke “It’s well-designed.” Everyone turned toward her. Her tone was calm, almost neutral but somehow, it felt like passing an exam. I nodded once “Thank you.”
Ryujin leaned toward Yuna “Rich people just communicated in furniture language.” Yuna whispered back, “I think that was intimacy.”
“It was not,” I said. Mina sipped from the bottled water Chaeryeong had handed her without anyone noticing “It was not.” Ryujin pointed between us “That’s what rich people would say.” John rubbed both hands over his face “We have been here for THIRTY seconds.” Momo, meanwhile, had reached the snacks. Chaeryeong appeared beside her almost instantly “I made more, just in case.” Momo looked at her. Then at the food. Then back at her “You are very thoughtful.” Chaeryeong turned pink.
Ryujin whispered, “Chaeryeong has secured Momo.”
“Good,” Lia said. “That may save us later.”
Yeji stepped forward, leader smile firmly in place “Welcome to the Top Floor.”
Jihyo smiled at her “Thank you for having us.” Nayeon’s eyes moved from Yeji to me. Then back to Yeji. Then to my hand, which Yeji was not holding. Her smile sharpened “So this is a wellness space?”
“Yes,” Yeji said carefully. Nayeon looked around “With private rooms?” Yeji’s expression did not change. Ryujin choked on her water. Yuna immediately stared at the ceiling. Lia closed her eyes. I looked at John. John looked at me. We both understood that the first shot had been fired. Jihyo turned toward Nayeon.
“Nayeon.”
“What? I’m asking about the facilities.”
Jeongyeon crossed her arms “You are asking about the facilities like a criminal.”
Dahyun lifted one finger “For accuracy, some criminals have more subtlety.”
Nayeon looked delighted “I missed this.”
“You were with them this morning,” John muttered.
“And I missed this version.”
Sana looped an arm through Nayeon’s “Can we have a tour?”
The question sounded innocent. It was not. But refusing would be worse so I glanced at Yeji. Yeji looked back at me.
Her expression said, You caused this.
Mine said, I know.
So we gave TWICE the tour. The lounge went first. Then the kitchen. Then the gym. Then the recovery room. Then the massage room, which Ryujin tried very hard to walk past too quickly. Unfortunately, Sana noticed “Oh?” she said. Ryujin froze. Yuna made a tiny delighted sound. Lia muttered, “Here we go.” Sana looked from Ryujin to me. Then smiled “Useful room?” Ryujin turned toward her with impressive speed “For recovery.”
“Of course.”
“Physical recovery.”
“Of course.”
Nayeon leaned in from behind Sana “Why are we saying of course like that?”
“Because Ryujin is lying badly,” Dahyun said.
Ryujin pointed at her “You are dangerous.”
Dahyun smiled “So I have been told.”
Yeji cleared her throat “This room is mainly for stretching, therapy, and post-practice recovery.” Jihyo looked at the equipment “Actually, this is impressive.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Mina looked at the room. Then at me. “Imported?”
“Mostly.”
“Custom?”
“Some.”
“Hmm, you have good taste.”
Ryujin whispered to Yuna, “They’re doing it again.”
Yuna nodded solemnly “Furniture language.”
Mina glanced at both of them. They immediately stopped whispering.
John leaned toward me “I enjoy when other people experience Mina’s quiet intimidation.”
“It is not intimidation,” Mina said from across the room.
John closed his eyes “See?”
The tour continued. The more TWICE saw, the more the jokes sharpened. The private dining area became “Ben’s idol bunker”. The lounge became “the world’s most expensive emotional support room”. The city-facing balcony became “where rich people stare dramatically after making bad decisions” I did not deny that one.
Then Nayeon saw the private suite hallway. She stopped. Looked at the hallway. Looked at Yeji, then at me. Her entire face lit up.
“Oh.”
“No,” I said immediately.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
She turned to Jihyo “He built Yeji a honeymoon suite.”
Yeji’s face went red instantly “I— That’s not—”
Ryujin appeared behind her “It is emotionally a honeymoon suite.”
Yuna nodded “With witnesses.”
Lia sighed “Why are we adding witnesses?”
Dahyun placed a hand over her heart “For the documentary.”
“No documentary,” Jihyo said.
Chaeyoung looked around “Honestly, this whole place does feel like a secret married-life set.” Yeji made a small helpless sound. I stared at the wall. John patted my shoulder “Congratulations.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Mina looked toward Yeji, then me. Her expression remained unreadable. But her voice was soft “It suits you.” That quieted the hallway more than the jokes had. Yeji looked at Mina. Then nodded “Thank you.”
For half a second, the room breathed. Then Sana smiled “Still honeymoon suite.” Yeji covered her face. The tour ended in the main lounge. Everyone settled into scattered seats across couches, armchairs, and stools. TWICE took over the space with a kind of terrifying ease. ITZY looked both overwhelmed and fascinated. Jihyo waited until everyone had drinks. Then she placed her cup down.
The sound was soft. But it changed the room. I noticed first. Then Yeji, John, and Mina. Jihyo looked across the room “This visit is not only social.” There it was. I leaned back slightly. John avoided my eyes. Ryujin looked between us “Oh no.” Yuna straightened, Lia’s expression sharpened, Chaeryeong went still. Jihyo continued “If TWICE and ITZY are going to be involved in the retreat Ben proposed, then everyone in this room needs to understand the risk of being honest.”
I frowned “Jihyo.” she looked at me “You called me.”
“I called for advice.”
“And received structure.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It is better.”
John muttered, “She has you there.”
I glared at him, the Jihyo lifted the folder John had been holding. My blood went cold.
“No…”
Ryujin’s eyes widened “What is that?”
“Paperwork,” John said gravely.
Yuna gasped “Ben predicted her.”
“I feared her,” I corrected.
Jihyo opened the folder “These are NDAs.”
The air shifted. Not badly, but seriously. ITZY looked at the papers. Then at TWICE. Then at me. Yeji’s posture went still. She knew enough to understand why.
Lia was already watching the wording from where she sat. Chaeryeong’s hands folded in her lap. Yuna’s playfulness dimmed. Ryujin leaned forward, quieter now. Jihyo noticed the change and softened her voice “This is not to silence you.” She looked at each of them “It is so everyone can speak honestly without endangering anyone else”. That mattered and the room held onto it.
Jihyo continued “TWICE knows the general shape of what has been happening with Ben and ITZY. Ben and Yeji know the general shape of what has been happening with John and TWICE. But general shapes are not enough if both groups are about to share space privately for a week or more.” Yuna glanced at me. Lia glanced at Yeji. Chaeryeong looked down at the papers.
Ryujin exhaled “So this is mutual.”
“Yes,” Jihyo said.
Nayeon leaned back, less teasing now “We are not here to expose you.”
Sana nodded “Or judge you.”
Jeongyeon added, “We are here because secrets are dangerous when people keep tripping over them.”
Dahyun lifted her hand slightly “And because Jihyo said we were coming.”
Jihyo looked at her. Dahyun smiled “Respectfully.”
Mina spoke quietly from her chair “Protection first. Explanation after.”
That settled the room more than anything else. Yeji reached for the first copy. She did not rush. She’s already done this before to understand, then signed. Simple. Steady, leader first.
Ryujin watched her. Then picked up a pen “This covers emotional crimes too?” John looked at her “What?”
“Just asking.”
Jihyo did not blink “Unfortunately, no.”
“Shame.” Ryujin signed.
Yuna took hers next. She scanned the page, lips pressed together in concentration. Then signed with more care than her jokes would have suggested.
Lia read hers fully. Twice. Then she looked up. “This protects both sides equally?” Jihyo nodded “It does.” Lia signed.
Chaeryeong held hers the longest. Not because she was resisting, but because she was careful. She looked at Jihyo. “If someone becomes uncomfortable later?” Jihyo’s face softened “Then they can say so. The NDA protects information. It does not force participation.” Chaeryeong nodded. Then signed.
The pens sounded louder than it should have when everyone finally set them down.
Jihyo gathered the papers. John placed them back in the folder and suddenly, the room felt different. Not safer exactly. Just more honest. Jihyo looked toward me briefly. I did not like that look. It was the look of a woman about to push the next domino. She turned back to ITZY “Now we can speak properly.”
Nayeon sat up. Sana’s hand found Jihyo’s arm for a second.
Jeongyeon leaned back, watching ITZY carefully.
Momo stopped eating.
Dahyun’s expression settled.
Chaeyoung looked thoughtful.
Tzuyu’s gaze moved toward John.
Mina held her tea with both hands.
Jihyo spoke first.
“TWICE has an arrangement with John.” No one interrupted. That alone said everything. Jihyo continued. “It started messy. Not because anyone wanted to hurt each other, but because care became complicated before any of us had language for it.”
My eyes shifted toward Yeji. She was listening closely. So were the others. Jihyo glanced at John. He did not look away “There are boundaries,” she said. “There is consent. There is rotation. There are rules we built because without them, someone would eventually feel forgotten, or guilty, or responsible for too much.”
Ryujin’s eyebrows lifted “Rotation?”
Nayeon smiled faintly “There it is.”
Ryujin looked at her “So you have a schedule?”
John closed his eyes.
Ryujin leaned forward “Like an actual romantic calendar?”
Dahyun coughed into her hand.
Yuna whispered, “She means horny calendar, we told her to be polite.”
“Yuna,” Yeji said weakly.
“What? She did.”
Jihyo sighed, but her mouth twitched “In less… Ryujin terms, yes. We have a system.” Lia’s question came quietly “And everyone agreed?”
“Yes,” Jihyo said with no hesitation “That is the only reason it works.” Chaeryeong looked toward John “How do you handle it?” John exhaled “Badly at first.” Nayeon snorted “Still badly sometimes.” John pointed at her “Thank you for the support.”
“You’re welcome.” Jihyo continued before they could spiral “John does not belong to a schedule. The schedule exists so none of us hurt each other by accident.” That landed. Especially with Yeji and me. Yuna leaned forward “So nobody feels left out?” The question was too soft to be a joke. Nayeon’s smile gentled “Sometimes feelings still happen.” Sana nodded “But it helps when nobody has to guess where they stand.” Tzuyu spoke quietly. “And when no one is punished for needing reassurance.”
The room went still. Yuna looked down. Ryujin stopped moving. Lia’s fingers tightened around her cup. Chaeryeong looked at the floor. Yeji’s hand shifted beside mine. Jihyo looked at ITZY with the calm of someone who knew exactly where the sentence had landed “That is why I wanted this conversation before the retreat,” she said. “Not because you need to copy us.” Her eyes moved to Ryujin. Then to Yuna. Then to Lia. Then to Chaeryeong. Then to Yeji. And finally, to me “Do not copy us just because we survived our version.”
“Build what fits you.”
“But build it honestly.”
That sentence settled into the room like a rule nobody had to write down. Ryujin leaned back. “So TWICE built rules first,” she looked at all of us “And we built emotional chaos first.” Dahyun nodded. “That is a very accurate meeting summary.” Lia sighed “Unfortunately.”
Yuna glanced to both me and Yeji “So we are not broken.” The sentence was almost too quiet. Jihyo looked at her “No. God no.” Mina spoke next “You are unfinished.”
Yuna blinked. Mina’s expression remained calm. “There is a difference.”
For some reason, that hit harder. Yuna nodded slowly. Chaeryeong looked at Mina too. So did Lia. Ben and Mina communicating in wealth language had been strange. But Mina communicating in quiet precision was worse. It landed cleanly.
Jihyo let the silence stay for a while. Then John, because he was John, ruined it with mercy. “For the record, the rotation system also prevents Nayeon from starting coups.” Nayeon gasped “Excuse you?” Jeongyeon looked at ITZY “He’s not wrong.” Sana nodded “Sometimes coups are romantic.” Dahyun lifted a hand “Depends on the branding.” Tzuyu nodded seriously “Some coups need better scheduling.” John stared at all of them “This is exactly why we needed rules.”
Ryujin smiled “I respect this group deeply.”
“I fear them,” Lia said.
“Both,” Chaeryeong whispered.
The room laughed. Not because everything was simple now. Because for the first time, the impossible thing had been said out loud and nobody had shattered. That mattered. Then Jihyo turned the conversation toward the retreat “We still need to make this approvable.” Everyone groaned at the same time. Jihyo ignored it. “Publicly, this becomes a senior-junior wellness retreat. TWICE and ITZY. Recovery, mentorship, bonding, privacy.” Dahyun lifted a hand “Can the official name be less boring?”
“No.”
“Cruel.”
John leaned forward “It gives JYP a clean reason to approve schedule movement.”
“And it prevents speculation,” Lia said.
“Exactly,” Jihyo replied.
I nodded “I’ll cover the retreat.” The room went silent. Not because they were surprised. Because everyone had been waiting for me to say something financially irresponsible. Jihyo looked at me like she had expected it. John looked tired because he had expected it too. Yeji looked like she wanted to argue but knew the argument would be pointless. Mina, however, simply lifted her tea “Half…” I looked at her “Excuse me?”
“Half,” Mina repeated calmly. “You cover ITZY. I cover TWICE.”
“That is unnecessary.”
“So is most of what you do.”
The room went quiet. Ryujin slowly leaned toward Yuna.
“Are rich people allowed to talk to each other like that?”
Yuna whispered back, “I think this is flirting in tax brackets.”
“It is not flirting,” I said.
Mina sipped her tea “It is accounting and logistics.”
John rubbed both hands over his face “I hate when wealthy people argue. It sounds like two countries negotiating borders.”
Nayeon leaned forward with interest “Wait. Is this how rich people fight?”
Dahyun nodded thoughtfully “It’s quieter than expected.”
“Usually we pay people to fight to the death for us as we watch” I added in as a joke.
Mina cut me off “Shush, we don’t discuss that outside the walls, Ben.”
And honestly, I don’t know what scares me more, Mina making a joke or if that wasn’t a joke at all. I wasn’t going to poke that bear ever again, though. Chaeyoung looked at me, then Mina.
“Are we witnessing the beginning of a secret takeover of JYPE?”
Mina blinked “Secret?”
I frowned “Takeover?”
John pointed at both of us “That response was somehow worse.”
Ryujin slowly sat up “Hold on. You both objected to different parts.”
Yuna’s eyes widened “Oh my God.”
Lia closed her eyes “Please do not encourage this.”
Ryujin ignored her completely “Mina unnie objected to it being secret. Ben objected to it being called a takeover.”
Dahyun gasped softly “That means they’ve considered a non-secret non-takeover.”
I stared at her.
“That is not what that means.”
Mina took a calm sip of tea “A takeover implies disruption.”
The room went silent. John’s head slowly turned toward her. Mina continued, serene. “Poor management creates disruption. Good management creates continuity.” I looked at her. “That is true.” John stood halfway from his seat “No.” I frowned “What?”
“You agreed too fast.”
“Because she is correct.”
Mina nodded once “Under better management, costs would be cleaner, staff retention would improve, artist wellness would have actual infrastructure, and food quality would apparently become a measurable morale factor.” Momo nodded seriously “It would.” Chaeryeong whispered, “It really would.” I leaned back, considering it despite myself “Scheduling inefficiencies would need work too.” Jihyo slowly turned toward me “Ben.”
“What?”
Mina looked at me. “Security structure as well.”
“Obviously.”
“Privacy leaks.”
“First quarter priority.”
“Artist recovery spaces.”
“Non-negotiable.”
The room went so quiet that even Ryujin looked concerned. John pointed between us with both hands “This is what I mean. This is terrifying. You two are planning corporate reform like normal people discuss lunch.” Yuna leaned toward Ryujin “This is flirting in tax brackets again.”
“It is not flirting,” I said.
Mina said, “It is governance.”
John looked physically unwell “That is worse.”
Nayeon raised her hand “As a future beneficiary of improved snack policy, I support the polite coup.”
“It is not a coup,” Mina said.
I added, “It would be an acquisition of operational influence.”
Jihyo closed her eyes “You are both making it worse.”
Dahyun looked delighted “Can the documentary be called Hostile Wellness?”
“No documentary,” Jihyo and I said at the same time.
Chaeyoung pointed at us “That sounded like management alignment.”
John stood fully “Nope. Private meeting. Now. Before the two economic superpowers draft a five-year plan on a napkin.” The room exploded. Jihyo stood as well, already composed “Ben. Yeji. John. Mina. With me.” Ryujin raised her hand “Why not me?” Mina looked at her “Because this part involves money.” Ryujin lowered her hand immediately “Valid.” Yuna raised her hand “What about me?” Jihyo smiled “You would make it worse.” Yuna nodded “Also valid.”
Lia leaned back “I will stay here and monitor the damage.” Dahyun smiled at her “That implies you can stop it.” Lia looked at TWICE. Then at ITZY. Then sighed “I cannot.” Yeji squeezed my hand once before standing. Her touch said what her face did not… survive.
We moved into the smaller conference room near the back of the Top Floor. The door closed behind us. The private meeting was exactly as exhausting as I expected, maybe worse. Jihyo laid out the cover story. John handled scheduling optics. Mina handled privacy logistics with terrifying calm. Yeji explained why ITZY needed the space in a way that made the whole room go quiet. Not because she dramatized it. Because she did not “They can keep working,” Yeji said. “We all can. That doesn’t mean we’re okay.” That one sentence made Jihyo stop writing. John looked down. Mina’s expression softened by half a degree. I looked at Yeji. And for a moment, I remembered again why she was the one I came home to. Then the meeting became numbers.
Schedule movement. Staff compensation. Security shifts. Media cover. Travel routes. Possible venues. Medical access. Emergency exits. Vehicle swaps. Privacy clauses. JYP objections. JYP counter-objections. JYP emotional grievance fees.
That last one was John’s idea. Jihyo told him not to call it that. Mina suggested “disruption compensation.” John said that sounded less fun. I agreed with Mina. John called me a traitor. It was productive. Unfortunately. By the time the private meeting ended, my brain felt like it had been folded into a spreadsheet.
Vacation logistics. JYP approval. Schedule compensation. Security rotation. Privacy clauses. Mina and I politely arguing over money while John looked like he wanted to walk into the sea.
It should have been the dangerous part of the afternoon. It was not.
The dangerous part was the silence that greeted us when we stepped back into the main lounge. Not true silence. Way worse. The kind of silence that followed laughter too quickly. John stopped beside me. His eyes moved across the room. Nayeon was smiling. Ryujin was smiling. Yuna was sitting with her knees pulled up on the sofa, looking entirely too proud of herself. Sana looked delighted. Dahyun looked like she had just witnessed the greatest variety show segment of her career. Lia was staring into the middle distance like she had survived information she did not ask for. Chaeryeong looked like someone had gently handed her a grenade and called it friendship.
John inhaled slowly “They talked.”
“Obviously.”
“About us?”
I looked at Ryujin. Ryujin smiled wider. I looked at Nayeon. Nayeon smiled wider than that. “We’re dead,” I said. John nodded “Historically, yes.”
Jihyo stepped in behind us, took one look at the room, and immediately closed her eyes “What did you do?” Nayeon pointed at herself innocently “Why are you looking at me?”
“Because I know you.”
“That is profiling.”
“That is experience.”
Ryujin leaned back on the couch, arms folded behind her head “In our defense, nobody told us we were not allowed to compare notes.” Lia turned toward her “We absolutely did not need to compare notes. Sana lifted a hand “I disagree. This was very educational.” Chaeryeong’s voice came faintly from the edge of the sofa “I learned things I did not know could be discussed during daylight.” Yuna nodded solemnly “I also learned things.” I looked at her “You contributed things.” Yuna blinked at me with perfect innocence “It only happened yesterday. I still have fresh perspective.” Yeji made a small sound beside me. Mina, calm as ever, looked from Yuna to Ryujin to Nayeon. Then she took one careful sip of tea “I see we left the wrong people unsupervised.” John pointed at her “Thank you.” Nayeon gasped “Excuse me. We were bonding.”
“You were exchanging classified trauma,” John said.
“Classified?” Ryujin repeated. “We signed the NDA.”
Yuna immediately pointed at her “She’s right.”
Dahyun nodded with frightening seriousness “Legally, the gossip was protected.”
I stared at the ceiling “Fantastic. Wonderful. The law betrayed us.”
Nayeon crossed one leg over the other, looking far too pleased “Honestly, Ben, you should be proud. ITZY speaks very highly of your dedication.” Ryujin nodded “Very dedicated.” Yuna nodded too “Extremely committed.” Lia covered her face. Chaeryeong whispered, “Why are we like this?” Sana leaned toward her. “You get used to it.”
“No, she won’t,” Mina said quietly.
John looked at Nayeon “What did you tell them?”
Nayeon smiled “Only what was relevant.”
“That means everything.”
“Not everything.”
Jihyo opened one eye “Nayeon.”
Nayeon sighed dramatically “Fine. Some highlights.”
John took one step back “No.”
Ryujin’s eyes lit up “Oh, highlights is a good word.”
That was when I noticed the couch cushions. One had been flipped forward. Another had been pushed against the armrest. A third was somehow on the floor. I looked at Ryujin. She smiled.
“No.”
“What?” she asked sweetly.
“You demonstrated.”
Ryujin’s smile widened “I clarified.”
Lia made a pained sound “She clarified too much.”
Chaeryeong nodded faintly, still staring at the floor “I understand angles now.”
I closed my eyes “Outstanding.”
Yuna lifted one hand “For the record, my contribution was tasteful.”
Yeji turned toward her “Yuna.”
“It was! I told it like a story.”
Ryujin snorted “She narrated it like a coming-of-age drama with suspiciously detailed pacing.”
Yuna looked offended “It was my first time. I’m allowed to have narrative structure.”
Sana clasped her hands together “It was actually very moving.” Dahyun nodded “And then immediately not moving.” Nayeon leaned toward John “TWICE also provided balance.” John stared at her “What does that mean?”
“It means we shared too.”
His face went blank “All of you?”
Jeongyeon shrugged “It seemed fair.”
Momo nodded “They had questions.”
Tzuyu added calmly, “Some of them were practical.”
John looked at Jihyo.
Jihyo did not meet his eyes.
John’s jaw dropped “You too?”
Jihyo cleared her throat “I couldn’t control damage I wasn’t there for.”
Nayeon nodded solemnly “Leader duties.”
John looked like he had just been betrayed by democracy.
Ryujin’s eyes sparkled “Oh, highlights is definitely the right word.”
I pointed at her “You.”
Ryujin pointed at herself.
“Me?”
“You are so doing aegyo TikToks with JYP.”
The room exploded. Ryujin’s mouth dropped open, Yuna screamed into a pillow, Dahyun slapped the arm of the couch, Sana nearly fell sideways into Momo, Lia looked horrified and amused at the same time, Chaeryeong covered her mouth with both hands, Yeji turned to me with wide eyes “Ben.”
“What? She knew the risk.” Ryujin stood halfway from the couch. “That is a cruel and unjust punishment.”
“It is character development.”
“It is psychological warfare.”
“It is content.”
John, however, did not laugh. He turned toward me slowly, horror spreading across his face like I had just introduced a new category of violence into the world “Wait.” I looked at him “What?”
“You can assign idol punishment content?”
“No”. Ryujin pointed at me “He absolutely can.” John’s eyes widened “Jihyo.” Jihyo did not look at him “Do not drag me into this.” John turned to Nayeon “Nayeon.” Nayeon smiled sweetly “Yes, manager-nim?”
“You are not getting ideas.” Her smile changed. Not brighter. Worse, it was sharper “Oh?” she said, tilting her head. “Does that mean you’ll punish me later tonight for being a bad girl?” The room froze.
I felt my soul leave my body in solidarity with John’s. John stopped breathing. Jihyo’s eyes snapped open. Mina looked into her tea like it had personally disappointed her. Chaeryeong made a tiny sound. Lia whispered, “Oh my God.” Ryujin slowly sat back down, reverent. Yuna looked like she had just found a new religion. Nayeon only shrugged, perfectly shameless “What?” she said. “They signed the NDAs. I don’t have to perform anymore.”
John covered his face with both hands “I miss five minutes ago.”
“No, you don’t,” Nayeon said.
“I do.”
“You love me.”
“That is unrelated to my suffering.”
Jihyo pointed at Nayeon without looking at her “You are why we need paperwork.”
Nayeon smiled “And yet everyone always thanks me later.”
Dahyun raised a finger “She has a point.”
“No, she does not,” John and I said at the same time.
That made the room laugh harder. The laughter should have made everything lighter. It did. For a while. But as the room kept moving around me, as TWICE and ITZY laughed together like the impossible had somehow become social, I felt something quiet inside me tighten.
First it was my space. Then it was ITZY’s shelter. Then it became Yeji’s sanctuary. Then Ryujin’s trouble. Then Lia’s waiting room. Then Yuna’s doorway. Then Chaeryeong’s quiet truth.
Now TWICE was here. John was here. Jihyo had paperwork. Mina had the audacity to match my money. Nayeon had no shame. And everyone was laughing like this was survivable. Maybe it was and maybe that was the problem. I stepped away before I realized I had moved. Not dramatically. Not enough for the room to stop. Just one step after the other. Past the lounge. Past the hallway. Toward the open balcony where the city air came colder through the glass door.
The noise faded behind me. For the first time all day, no one followed immediately. Good. I needed the silence. I stepped outside and closed the door behind me. The air hit my face sharp enough to feel real. For a while, I only stood there. Then I reached into my pocket. The cigarette was not supposed to be there. Which was a lie. Old habits did not disappear just because life became expensive and complicated. They waited like bad friends.
I lit it with my back to the city and took one slow drag. The smoke burned in a way I had not missed and missed anyway. I exhaled toward the skyline.
“Didn’t know you still did that.”
I did not turn around.
John closed the balcony door behind him. He stood beside me, hands in his pockets, looking out at the city. For a while, he said nothing. That was how I knew he was worried.
John made jokes when he was annoyed. He made insults when he was scared. Silence meant he was trying to be careful.
“I don’t,” I said.
He glanced at the cigarette “Convincing.”
I looked down at it “Today is an exception.”
“Today has been an exception since you slept with Yeji.”
I snorted “Don’t get meta with me, jackass.”
“I am emotionally exhausted. I’ll get whatever the hell I want.”
We stood in the cold for a few seconds. Behind the glass, the room glowed warm. The girls moved like silhouettes through the light. TWICE and ITZY. Two impossible systems orbiting two very tired men. John followed my gaze.
“Do you regret it?”
I knew what he meant. Not the cigarette. Not the money. Not the vacation. All of it.
Me and ITZY, Yeji, Ryujin, Yuna, Lia’s careful truth, Chaeryeong’s quiet waiting, Waterbomb, The Top Floor, The phone call, The door I had opened.
I took another drag, slower this time “No.”
John looked at me.
I exhaled “It is insane.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“It is complicated.”
“Still not the question.”
“It might ruin me.”
“That one is closer.”
I smiled faintly. Then looked back through the glass. Yeji was laughing at something Sana had said. Yuna was leaning toward Dahyun. Ryujin and Nayeon looked like a national security threat. Lia was speaking quietly with Jeongyeon. Chaeryeong was offering Momo more food. Mina sat near Jihyo, calmer than a meditating monk.
And somehow, in the middle of all of it, the Top Floor looked less like containment. More like proof.
“No,” I said finally. “I don’t regret it.”
John’s shoulder relaxed by half an inch.
I noticed. Of course I noticed. He always hated that.
“Crazy as it is,” I continued, “I’m thankful.”
John immediately grimaced “Disgusting.”
I looked at him “What?”
“Male emotional honesty in private. Horrible. Vile. We need to move on.”
I laughed once “There he is.”
John cleared his throat “Speaking of moving on, I’ve been thinking about something important.”
“If this is another emotional grievance fee—”
“TWICE recreational fund.”
I stared at him. The cigarette paused halfway to my mouth “What?”
“TWICE recreational fund.”
“No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“I heard enough.”
“ITZY has one.”
“ITZY has one because it’s out my own pocket.”
“Exactly. Precedent.”
“You are literally the manager of Mina— she’s wealthier than me.”
“For now.”
My eyes narrowed, his instinct was always on point. “There it is.”
I looked away.
“What?”
“That little rich-person prophecy you have.”
“I do not have a prophecy.”
“You absolutely do. Every time someone mentions Mina being richer, you sound like a villain waiting for compound interest.”
“That is unfair.”
“Because it is accurate.”
I sighed “It would take time.”
John stared at me “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You’ve calculated it.”
“I have not.”
“You absolutely have.”
“It’s a rough estimate.”
John threw both hands up.
“I knew it.”
I took another drag, trying not to smile “It would take longer now.”
“Because of market conditions?”
“Because Ryujin and Yuna have apparently made it their personal mission to financially ruin me.”
John looked through the glass at them. Ryujin was laughing so hard she had fallen sideways into the couch. Yuna looked far too pleased about something. John nodded slowly.
“They’ll do it.”
“They can try.”
“Proud of them.”
“Traitor.”
He grinned. The city stretched below us. The cigarette burned shorter between my fingers. John’s smile faded slightly “You know Yeji will notice.”
“I know.”
“You going to lie?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Are you going to tell Jihyo about Nayeon?”
John’s face immediately tightened “That is unrelated.”
“She asked to be punished.”
He closed his eyes “I heard.”
“In front of everyone.”
“I was there.”
I laughed under my breath. For a moment, the balcony was just cold air, smoke, city lights, and the strange relief of standing next to the only person who had known me before all of this became impossible.
Then the door slid open. Yeji stepped outside. Her eyes moved from John to me. Then to the cigarette. She did not scold me. That was worse. John immediately straightened.
“I was supervising.”
Yeji looked at him.
“Were you?”
“No.”
“Thank you for your honesty.”
John nodded once.
“I will go be useless inside.”
He opened the door, slipped past her, then paused just long enough to mutter to me “Good luck, emotionally married man.” I flipped him off without looking and he vanished inside.
Yeji closed the door behind him. For a moment, she only stood there with me. The city wind moved softly through her hair. Her expression was not angry. Not disappointed. Just quiet.
That was harder. I looked at the cigarette. Then put it out against the ashtray near the railing before she said anything. Yeji watched the motion.
“Was it that bad?”
I leaned against the balcony rail “No.”
She stepped closer “That means yes.”
“It means crowded.”
Her gaze softened “Too much?”
I looked through the glass again.
At everyone inside.
At the impossible warmth of the room.
“Not bad too much,” I said. “Just… real too much.”
Yeji followed my gaze. She understood. Of course she did. Her hand found mine. Cold fingers sliding between mine without hesitation. In full view of the room “Come back inside,” she said. I looked down at her hand. Then at her.
“You know they can see.”
Yeji’s cheeks colored faintly. But she did not let go.
“I know.”
That answer did something to me.
“Yeji.”
She stepped closer. Not hiding behind the balcony wall. Not looking over her shoulder. Not checking if ITZY could see. Or TWICE or John or Jihyo.
She only looked at me “I said I’m not pretending anymore.” The warmth in my chest hurt. Behind the glass, I saw movement. People noticing. Heads turning. The room becoming still. Yeji noticed too. She still did not let go.
Then, with the entire impossible room watching, she rose slightly on her toes and kissed me. Not sudden. Not accidental. Not stolen in the middle of chaos.
Deliberate, soft, and certain. The kind of kiss that did not ask the room for permission. The kind that made a private truth public without turning it into a performance. When she pulled back, her face was red. But her hand stayed in mine.
I smiled “Public now?”
She looked embarrassed.
Then stubborn “Public enough.”
I laughed quietly and that made her smile. Then her eyes moved toward the ashtray. The smile faded by half an inch. Not gone, just sharpened.
“Also,” she said softly, “that is the last time I kiss you after you smoke.”
I blinked. Behind the glass, I could feel the entire room watching us fail to be subtle.
“You waited until after the kiss to say that?”
“Yes.”
“That feels strategically unfair.”
“It was.”
I looked at her. Yeji did not look angry. That was what made it land harder. She looked worried. Steady. Mine.
“You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t scare me,” she said. The city wind moved between us. I looked toward the ashtray. Then back at her “I’ll try.”
Her fingers tightened around mine “Try how?” I exhaled slowly “I’ll try to quit.” Her eyes searched my face. I added, quieter, “At least… not around you. Not around ITZY. Not where any of you have to watch me use it to survive the room.”
Yeji studied me for a long moment. Long enough that I felt fourteen different versions of myself being judged. Then she nodded once.
“For now.”
“For now?”
“For now,” she repeated. “Because eventually I’m going to ask for more.”
I smiled faintly.
“Of course you are.”
Her cheeks colored again, but her voice stayed firm.
“Be a good boy.”
I closed my eyes.
“You cannot weaponize that after an anti-smoking ultimatum.”
“I just did.”
Behind the glass, Ryujin visibly reacted despite not hearing a word. That somehow made it worse. I squeezed Yeji’s hand.
“I’ll try,” I said again. “Promise.”
This time, she accepted it. Not because it was enough forever. Because it was honest enough for now. We stepped back inside together. The room was silent. Not shocked like before. Not scandalized. Just caught.
Like everyone had witnessed something they already knew, but had never seen that clearly. Jihyo looked at Yeji first, then at me. Something in her expression softened “There it is,” she said quietly. Nobody asked what she meant.
Nayeon, unfortunately, recovered first. She turned slowly toward John. “See?” John froze “No.” Nayeon pointed toward Yeji and me “That was romantic.” John stared at her “I was gone for five minutes.”
Sana leaned forward “Manager-nim, where is our dramatic eye contact?”
John looked betrayed “Sana.”
Dahyun lifted an imaginary microphone “Breaking news: TWICE files formal complaint regarding lack of cinematic boyfriend moments.”
John pointed at her “You are supposed to be on my side.”
“I am reporting fairly.”
Momo tilted her head “John-oppa is romantic sometimes.”
John looked relieved “Thank you.”
Momo continued “When he remembers.”
The room exploded. John turned slowly toward her. “Momo.” Jeongyeon crossed her arms “He shows love through damage control and panic.” Chaeyoung nodded “And snacks.” Mina, still calm, added “And calendar reminders.”
John stared at her. “Mina.”
She blinked “What? It is true.”
Tzuyu looked at me and Yeji, then at John “Ben looks like a romance drama.”
John’s eyes narrowed.
Tzuyu continued calmly “John looks like a man surviving a group project.”
I made the mistake of laughing.
John turned toward me “This is your fault.”
I lifted my free hand “I said nothing.”
“You stood there romantically.”
“I was being emotionally supported.”
“Exactly. Publicly. Recklessly. With eye contact.”
Nayeon pointed at John “So learn from him.”
“I refuse to be mentored by a man who just smoked outside because eleven women compared bedroom notes.”
I nodded “Fair.”
Yeji’s hand tightened around mine. Not warning. Laughing silently. Jihyo looked at John “You could still be more romantic.” John’s face fell “You too?” Jihyo smiled “Especially me.”
Nayeon clapped once “Leader has spoken.”
Sana nodded “We need cinematic boyfriend moments.”
Dahyun raised her hand “I would like mine under the rain.”
Chaeyoung added, “And better lighting.”
Momo said, “And food.”
Jeongyeon looked at her “That’s just dinner.”
Momo nodded “Romantic dinner.”
Mina looked at John “I would accept quiet submissiveness.”
John stared at her “That sounds attainable.”
Nayeon leaned in “Did you just say 'yes' to dominatrix?” John’s mouth opened then closed. Then he pointed at Ben “You see what you caused?”
I looked at him. Then at Yeji. Then at the room full of women now laughing across two impossible worlds. TWICE and ITZY. John and Ben. Jihyo with her paperwork. Mina with her half of the world. Yeji holding my hand where everyone could see. I exhaled slowly. For once, I did not feel like running from the noise. “Well,” I said, “at least now we know the retreat will be peaceful.”
Everyone looked at me. Then they all started laughing. Not because it was true. Because it absolutely was not.
Dinner happened because Chaeryeong and Momo had formed an alliance. No one said it out loud. No one needed to. By the time the sun lowered behind the city, the Top Floor no longer looked like a secret meeting space. It looked like a private dining room that had somehow been conquered by fourteen female idols, two managers, and then one financial superpower currently helping Chaeryeong decide whether the plating looked balanced.
Mina was very serious about symmetry. Chaeryeong was very serious about feeding people. Momo was very serious about the food. Together, they were terrifying. The rest of the room had slowly loosened. TWICE had stopped acting like guests. ITZY had stopped acting like hosts. John had stopped pretending he had any authority left.
I had given up on dignity somewhere between Nayeon asking if the retreat had honeymoon packages and Ryujin explaining that all wellness retreats should include “stress relief benefits.” Jihyo had told both of them to stop. Neither stopped.
Then I made the mistake of leaving the room to change. It should not have mattered. Formal managerial attire had started to feel suffocating after the meeting, the note-comparison disaster, the balcony cigarette, Yeji’s kiss, and the fact that Park Jihyo had essentially turned my recovery plan into a multinational idol event. So I changed into something simple.
Black fitted shirt. Dark trousers. Watch. No jacket. Comfortable enough to breathe. Presentable enough that JYP could appear on the elevator without me looking like I had completely abandoned professional standards.
Apparently, that was not the effect it had.
When I stepped back into the lounge, conversations died in waves. First ITZY. Then TWICE. Then John. Even Momo paused mid-bite. I stopped walking “What?” Ryujin slowly lowered her chopsticks “Oh.”
“No.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
Yuna leaned forward with wide eyes “Manager-nim.”
“That tone is now illegal.”
“You look like you’re here to collect protection money.”
Lia covered her mouth.
Chaeryeong blinked at me from beside the dining table, eyes dropping briefly to the tattooed lines visible along my arms. Then back up “Respectfully,” she said, “Yuna is not completely wrong.”
Nayeon tilted her head. “I thought he was a secretly insane rich manager.”
Dahyun lifted a hand “Correction. Without the formal clothes, he is giving secretly insane rich mafia manager.”
Sana smiled brightly “But handsome.”
Jeongyeon crossed her arms “That does not make it better.”
Chaeyoung squinted at my arms “How many tattoos do you have?”
“Enough.”
“That is a suspicious number.”
Tzuyu looked at me calmly “You look like someone parents warn their children about.”
John pointed at her “That one is accurate.”
Mina, from the table, only looked at me once “The shirt is well-fitted.”
Everyone turned toward her. Mina blinked “What?”
Ryujin whispered, “Furniture language evolved into shirt language.”
Yuna nodded “Rich people are escalating.”
I looked at Jihyo. She was studying the exposed ink around my wrists and forearms with a thoughtful frown “I only saw some of the ones on the wrist last time.”
“That was the point of sleeves.”
Nayeon leaned toward Jihyo “He hides his tattoos at work?”
Jihyo looked at her “He is a manager.”
Nayeon looked back at me “He looks like a final boss.”
Dahyun nodded “Final Boss: Wellness Retreat Funding Phase.”
John sighed “I hate that I can visualize the title card.”
Yeji had not said anything. That was the problem. She was staring at my arm. Not the old ink. Not the ones she already knew. One specific spot near my inner forearm, still fresh enough that the edges had not fully settled. Her expression changed. Small. Dangerous.
My body immediately recognized the threat. Not fear… worse. Girlfriend hostility.
“Benjie.”
The room went silent.
Ryujin’s head snapped toward me.
Yuna’s eyes widened.
Lia whispered, “Oh no.”
John leaned back “She used the cute name. You’re dead.”
I looked at Yeji carefully “Yes, babe?”
Her eyes lifted to mine “When did you get that?”
I looked down at the tattoo. Then back at her “Recently.”
“That is not a date.”
“It is a category.”
“Benjie.”
I closed my eyes. The second answer was worse.
“After Waterbomb.”
The room went still again. Not comedic this time. Not yet.
Yeji’s jaw tightened “You got a tattoo after Waterbomb and didn’t tell me?”
“It was impulsive.”
“That is not helping.”
“I know.”
“First, you threaten that fan like a mafia boss. Then you scare everyone in ITZY half to death. Then you financially flashbang our company’s founder with a cheque worth more than most executives see in a year. Then I find out you started smoking again.”
Her voice rose with every sentence. Not loud enough to be screaming. It was worse. Controlled. Precise. Full of unyielding fury.
“And now,” she said, pointing at my arm, “I find out you got another tattoo without telling me?”
Ryujin whispered, “Wife voice.”
John nodded “Oh, absolutely a wife voice.”
Yeji immediately turned pink “I am not—”
Nayeon pointed at her “That was a wife voice.”
Sana nodded “Very wife.”
Jeongyeon added, “Concerned wife.”
Dahyun lifted an imaginary microphone “Breaking news: Hwang Yeji discovers husband has poor impulse control.”
“I am not his wife,” Yeji said, face burning.
Yuna smiled “Not yet.”
The room detonated.
Yeji looked like she wanted to throw a napkin at her I cleared my throat “In my defense—” Yeji turned back to me “You do not have one.”
“Correct, I do not.”
Lia nodded “Growth.”
I looked at Yeji and tried the only strategy I had left. A terrible one “I can make it up to you.”
Her eyes narrowed “How?”
“I’ll get your portrait tattooed next.”
Silence. Immediate. Catastrophic.
John slowly turned toward me “Why would you say that?”
Ryujin looked like she had seen heaven open.
Yuna gasped.
Lia closed her eyes.
Chaeryeong made a tiny sound.
Nayeon slapped the table “Oh, he’s insane-insane.”
Sana clasped her hands “That is romantic.”
Jeongyeon looked at her “That is not romantic. That is evidence.”
Dahyun nodded “Depending on the artist, it is either love or a future court exhibit.”
Chaeyoung leaned forward “Portrait tattoos are risky long term.”
Tzuyu nodded calmly “They can age strangely on skin.”
Momo looked thoughtful “Maybe not the face.”
Yeji stared at me. Then slowly pointed one finger “No.”
“It was a suggestion.”
“It was a bad suggestion.”
“You haven’t seen the design.”
“I don’t need to see the design.”
Ryujin leaned forward, delighted “You have discussed this before?”
Yeji looked betrayed by the universe “Unfortunately.”
I smiled faintly “In my defense, it was romantic then too.”
“It was a bad pitch after we slept together for the first time,” Yeji said, voice dangerously controlled. “It is a bad pitch now. And it will still be a bad pitch after the wedding.”
The room died. Completely. Even John stopped breathing. Yeji realized what she had said one second too late. Her face changed “Oh.”
Nayeon whispered, “AFTER?”
Sana whispered, “She mentioned a wedding.”
Dahyun slowly raised her imaginary microphone.
Jihyo grabbed her wrist without looking “No.”
Ryujin looked like she had just discovered a sacred text “Unnie.”
Yuna clasped both hands over her mouth “She said after the wedding.”
Lia looked at Yeji with gentle devastation “That was very specific.”
Chaeryeong nodded faintly “Very specific.”
Yeji covered her face “I meant hypothetically.”
John pointed at her “No, you said wedding with continuity.”
“I did not say continuity.”
“You referenced the first time.”
Everyone turned to him.
John paused “I mean emotionally.”
I stared at him “That was suspiciously meta.”
“I am under stress.”
Mina took a sip of water “Regardless, a portrait remains impractical.”
“Thank you,” Yeji said through her hands.
Mina continued, “A name would age better.”
I stared at her “Mina.”
“What? It is true.”
Ryujin sat up like a demon had possessed her “Property of Hwang Yeji.”
Yeji made a strangled sound.
Yuna nearly fell out of her chair laughing.
Lia whispered, “Please don’t.”
Dahyun snapped her fingers “Yeji’s Dog.”
The room exploded again.
I looked at her “Absolutely not.”
Ryujin pointed at me “Don’t lie. You would enjoy it.”
“That is defamatory.”
Yuna grinned “You literally admitted you might bark if treats are involved.”
TWICE froze. Nayeon turned slowly toward John “You never told us that.”
John looked at me “I hate learning things with them.”
Jihyo put a hand over her face “Why is there always more?”
Sana smiled at Yeji “So the leash is real?”
Yeji turned even redder “It is a joke.”
Lia sipped her drink “It began as a joke.”
Chaeryeong, very quietly, added “It has evidence now.”
Yeji looked at her “Chaer.”
Chaeryeong immediately looked down “Sorry.” But she was smiling.
Ryujin leaned back triumphantly “Property of Hwang Yeji is the best option.”
“No,” Yeji said.
“Yeji’s Dog?”
“No.”
“Princess’s Dog?”
“No.”
“Good Boy?”
I looked at Ryujin. “Do not test me. I will make you solo debut and have JYP feature in your title track. I don't care how much it will cost me to make it happen.”
The room froze. Completely.
Ryujin stared at me “...You wouldn't.”
“I would.”
“Ben,” Lia said softly, horrified, “that's not a threat. That's psychological warfare.”
Yuna folded in half laughing.
Chaeryeong covered her mouth.
Nayeon slapped the table again. “Oh my god.”
Sana looked genuinely concerned. “Can he do that?”
“No,” Jihyo said immediately, then paused “Probably.”
“Unnie,” Ryujin whispered, looking betrayed, “whose side are you on?”
“Not yours.”
John pointed at me. “That is the most specific threat I have ever heard.”
Mina nodded thoughtfully “The JYP feature is what makes it cruel.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“That was not a compliment.”
Ryujin narrowed her eyes at me “You are a villain.”
“You started this.”
“She did,” Yeji said without hesitation.
Ryujin gasped. “Unnie!”
“You know what you did.”
The room laughed again.
Yeji pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we please return to the tattoo conversation before he starts funding music videos out of spite?”
Ryujin immediately pointed at her. “See? Even she thinks you'd do it.”
“I wasn’t bluffing,” I said.
“Terrifying.”
Yuna grinned. “Anyway, back to the important issue. Good Boy?”
“No,” Yeji said immediately.
Nayeon tapped her chin, far too invested now. “What about something elegant? Like ‘Belongs to Yeji.’”
Yuna pointed at me. “That sounded like you were considering it.”
“It did not sound like that.”
John crossed his arms “You made your wife mad.”
Yeji whipped toward him “John.”
“What? You did wife voice.”
Nayeon nodded “He did make his wife mad.”
Sana looked at me “You should apologize to your wife.”
Jeongyeon added, “Before she finds out about another tattoo.”
Momo nodded “Wives notice things.”
Chaeyoung looked at Yeji “Your wife instincts are strong.”
Dahyun lifted her imaginary microphone again. “Domestic dispute resolved through tattoo governance.”
Tzuyu looked at me calmly “You should listen to your wife.”
Yeji buried her face in both hands “I am not his wife.”
Ryujin leaned toward Yuna “Yet.”
Yuna nodded “Yet.”
I looked at Yeji. She was embarrassed. Annoyed. Worried. Trying not to smile. Trying not to be touched by any of it. Trying not to show that everyone calling her my wife had landed somewhere she was not ready to admit out loud.
So I walked to her. The room quieted by instinct. Yeji lowered her hands just enough to look at me. I leaned down and kissed her. When I pulled back, I kept my voice low. “I love you.”
Her anger did not vanish. That would have been too easy. But it softened. Her shoulders dropped. Her eyes warmed.
“You are not kissing your way out of this.”
“I know.”
“The ‘I love you’ won’t help.”
“I know,” I gave her another peck in the lips regardless “I love you”
“—John, take notes” Tzuyu was giving commentary from behind.
“I love you too,” Yeji finally calmed down a bit “but you are not getting my portrait tattooed. Not now. Not after the wedding. Not after three weddings.”
The room erupted. I smiled “Three weddings?” Yeji froze. Her face went red again. “I meant—” Ryujin slapped the table “She’s negotiating ceremonies now.” Yuna pointed at her “She said three.” Nayeon looked delighted “That is legally and emotionally significant.” Lia closed her eyes “We are never escaping the paperwork theme.”
John leaned toward me “Congratulations. Your wife is negotiating wedding volume.”
Yeji turned toward him “Stop calling me that.”
John smiled “No.”
Before anyone could make it worse, my phone buzzed on the table. Once. Then again. A voice message. I looked down at the screen. Tattoo artist. The timing was so bad that it became impossible.
Ryujin noticed first “What is that?”
“Nothing.”
Yuna leaned over “It says Frankie the Tattoo Artist.”
The room went silent. Yeji slowly turned toward me
“Benjie.”
I stared at the phone “I can explain.”
John laughed once “No, you cannot.”
Ryujin grabbed the phone before I could stop her.
“Ryujin, don’t you dare.”
She hit play.
A man’s voice filled the room.
“Ben, confirming your next schedule. Still got you down for the chest piece. Just making sure you’re really serious about that corny-ass couple tattoo. You really want ‘Ben + Yeji’ on your chest? I mean, it’s your money, boss, but I’m asking one more time before we stencil that disaster.”
The voice message ended.
No one moved. No one breathed. Yeji stared at me. TWICE stared at me. ITZY stared at me. John looked like he had just watched me step willingly into traffic.
Then Ryujin screamed. Yuna followed. Nayeon stood from her chair. Sana grabbed Jihyo’s arm. Dahyun dropped her imaginary microphone.
Chaeyoung whispered, “Chest piece?”
Momo said, “That is very committed.”
Tzuyu looked at Yeji “He is serious.”
Mina took a sip of water “Corny, but serious.”
Jihyo stared at me “You planned this before tonight?”
I looked at the phone. Then at Yeji. Then at the room. There was no path out. So I stopped looking for one “Yes.”
Yeji’s voice came out small “Ben”. I stepped closer to her and slid one arm around her waist. In front of everyone. Because apparently subtlety had died several minutes ago and I had finally decided to stop attending the funeral “I’m not cancelling it.”
The room exploded again.
Yeji’s hands went to my chest like she meant to push me away, but she did not. She only stared at me, stunned.
“You are insane.”
“Probably.”
“Ben.”
“It’s temporary.”
The room froze again.
Yeji blinked “Temporary?”
“For now.”
The silence became dangerous. Ryujin slowly turned toward me “Oh, he’s worse than insane.” Yuna’s eyes widened “He planned the emotional damage.” Lia closed her eyes “Of course he did.” John pointed at me “That is not clarification. That is psychological warfare.”
I ignored all of them and kept looking at Yeji “I wanted to see how it looked first.”
Yeji stared “First?”
“Before it becomes permanent.”
“Permanent?”
“Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
I nodded, completely committed now because retreat had stopped being an option three sentences ago. “Next to the wedding date.”
The room died. Completely. Even Nayeon stopped breathing. Yeji’s face went blank. Then red. Then blank again.
I continued, because apparently I had chosen death “And the other couple tattoos.”
John whispered, “No.”
Sana whispered, “Yes.”
Dahyun slowly raised her imaginary microphone again.
Jihyo caught her wrist without looking “No.”
Yeji’s fingers tightened against my shirt “Wedding date?”
“Hypothetically.”
“That did not sound hypothetical.”
“It sounded planned,” Lia said softly.
“It sounded scheduled,” Ryujin added.
Yuna pointed at me “He absolutely has a folder.”
Mina looked at me “Do you?”
I hesitated.
John screamed “THIS FUCKING PSYCHOPATH HAS AN ACTUAL FOLDER.”
“I have concepts.”
“That is a folder,” Mina said calmly.
Nayeon pointed at John “Take notes.”
John recoiled “No.”
Sana nodded quickly “Take notes.”
Jeongyeon crossed her arms “You could at least have concepts.”
John looked betrayed “Not you too.”
Momo tilted her head “Would all nine of us fit?”
John’s soul left his body.
Tzuyu looked thoughtful “It depends on placement.”
Mina added, “Spacing would be difficult.”
John stared at her “Mina.”
“What? It would.”
Ryujin raised both hands “If John gets nine names, Ben has to get all five ITZY names too.”
I looked at her “Absolutely not.”
“For equality.”
Yuna nodded “And symmetry.”
Mina looked thoughtful “Symmetry matters.”
Ryujin was still staring at me like I had personally invented a new disease.
“So let me understand this,” she said slowly “You were not actually getting it permanently.”
“Not yet.”
“But you were going to let everyone think you were.”
“For context.”
Lia looked at me “That is not what context means.”
“It was emotional research.”
Chaeryeong blinked “On Yeji unnie?”
I looked at her. Then at Yeji. Then back at Chaeryeong.
“Not my best wording.”
“No,” Jihyo said. “It was not.”
Dahyun lifted her imaginary microphone again.
“Breaking news: local man conducts unauthorized wife study. Results catastrophic.”
Yeji turned red “I am not his wife.”
Nayeon pointed at her immediately “You keep saying that like a woman who wants the title officially formatted.”
Yeji’s mouth opened. No sound came out, she looked at me like she wanted to melt into the floor and drag me with her.
“You are unbelievable.”
“I was aiming for memorable.”
“It would have been memorable for the wrong reasons.”
John pointed at Yeji “That means she imagined it.”
Yeji turned on him “Do not involve yourself.”
“I am already involved. Your boyfriend is ruining expectations for all of us.”
Nayeon nodded gravely “He is.”
Sana looked at John “Where is our playlist?”
John stared at her “Our what?”
“Our romantic reveal playlist.”
“I am not revealing anything.”
Dahyun raised her hand “Technically, that is part of the complaint.”
The room made a collective sound of approval.
John pointed at her “That was personal.”
“You could benefit from a strategy deck, best buddy”
I looked at John “You want help with that?”
He turned on me “You stay out of this, Chest Tattoo Romeo.”
Ryujin gasped “That is his new title.”
Yuna nodded “Final Boss: Chest Tattoo Romeo.”
Chaeryeong, who had been quiet for a while, looked at me with genuine curiosity. “Would the temporary tattoo actually say Ben plus Yeji?” I nodded. “That was the draft.” She frowned. “Wouldn’t Yeji plus Ben look better?”
The room went still.
I looked at her. Yeji looked at her. Mina’s eyes sharpened with immediate interest. Chaeryeong froze “What?”
Mina set her cup down “She is right.”
John threw his head back “No.”
Mina continued. “Visually, Yeji’s name first balances better depending on placement.”
I looked down, considering it “That depends on the font weight.”
Mina nodded “And spacing.”
Nayeon leaned back, enjoying herself far too much. “Honestly, I respect the insanity. A temporary couple tattoo before the real one after marriage? That is commitment with a trial period.” Sana nodded “Romantic beta testing.” Jeongyeon looked pained “Please don’t call love that.” Dahyun smiled “Too late. Love 2.0 launches after wedding.”
“Metaphorically.” Ryujin smiled. “Ben didn’t say no any of it.” Yeji lowered her hands just enough to glare at her “Ryujin.”
“What? I am supporting your household.”
“Our what?”
The room inhaled. Yeji realized too late that she had said our.
Yeji tried to glare at me. Failed. Then looked away, cheeks burning. And because I had apparently developed a severe allergy to self-preservation, I leaned closer and murmured “For the record, I would put your name first.” Yeji froze.
The room went silent again.
Ryujin whispered, “Fatality.”
Yuna whispered, “That was so smooth I hate him.”
Nayeon turned to John “Write that down.”
John snapped “I am not writing down tattoo flirting.”
Mina looked at him “You should. It was effective.”
Yeji’s fingers tightened against my shirt. She looked up at me, still embarrassed, still mad, still very much losing the fight against her own smile.
“You are not getting anything permanent before we talk about it.”
“Agreed.”
“And no portrait.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
“Even after the wedding?”
“Especially after the wedding.”
The room made a noise.
Yeji looked at me, helpless and red and smiling despite herself “You are impossible.” I smiled back “And yet.” She looked away. But she leaned into me a little more. Just enough to lose. Just enough to consider it a win.
By the time dinner finally began to dissolve into goodbyes, the Top Floor looked less like a luxury residence and more like a battlefield that had been won through food, gossip, paperwork, and emotional blackmail. Plates had been cleared.
Momo had praised Chaeryeong’s cooking enough times that Chaeryeong looked like she was trying not to float.
Ryujin and Nayeon had formed a partnership that worried every manager in the room.
Yuna had somehow gotten Sana and Dahyun to promise they would help her “professionally evaluate” the retreat once it happened.
Lia looked tired, but steadier.
Chaeryeong looked overwhelmed, but not unhappy.
TWICE gathered near the elevator in clusters, still talking over one another as if leaving was merely a suggestion. Jihyo checked the folder one more time.
John looked at it like it had personally ruined his day.
Then Nayeon turned back toward me “So.” I immediately disliked her tone “No.”
“You don’t know what I’m asking.”
“I know the category.”
“That is becoming your favorite sentence,” Lia murmured.
Nayeon smiled “Are you really going through with the temporary tattoo?”
The room froze.
Not because anyone had forgotten. Because apparently everyone had been waiting for someone brave or shameless enough to bring it back. Yeji’s hand tightened around mine.
I looked at her. She looked back. Still red, pretending she was not invested. “Yes,” I said. The room erupted. Ryujin shouted first “I knew it. He’s committed to the emotional damage.”
Dahyun lifted her imaginary microphone. “Breaking news: temporary tattoo confirmed; wife still denying wife status.”
“I am not his wife,” Yeji said automatically. “Yet,” Sana said sweetly. Yeji’s face went red again. I squeezed her hand once “And Yeji’s coming with me.”
That somehow made it worse.
Nayeon gasped “She’s choosing placement?” Yeji turned toward me. “I am?”
“You said you were.”
“I said several things under emotional distress.”
Yeji looked at me, cheeks still pink “I am not choosing anything ridiculous.”
“Agreed, and no portrait.”
“Agreed.”
John suddenly pointed at me “Wait. No.” I looked at him. “What now?”
“You are not taking Yeji to some random tattoo artist after all of this.”
“It’s not random.”
“You are bringing an idol to a tattoo appointment.”
“A temporary tattoo appointment.”
“That does not make the identity issue disappear.”
Jihyo looked at me “He has a point.” Nayeon leaned toward Sana “John said something responsible.” Sana nodded “We should document it.” John ignored them “How do you know this guy won’t leak anything?”
The room quieted slightly. Not from fear. From curiosity. I shrugged “He’s loyal.” John stared at me “That is not an explanation.”
“It is the most important part.”
“Ben.”
I sighed “He knows better.”
Ryujin’s eyes lit up.
“Oh, that sounds threatening.”
“It is not threatening.”
Yuna smiled “It sounded expensive.”
“That is closer,” Mina said quietly.
Mina looked at me “You paid him well?”
“Yes.”
John exhaled “Okay. Fine. That is better.”
“And I ruined someone who did not.”
The room stopped. John slowly turned his head back toward me “What?” I looked around.
“In his old shop, he had an investment broker client who refused to pay him properly after a full sleeve. Tried to use status and connections to make the bill disappear.” No one spoke. I continued “The artist complained about it while finishing one of mine. I asked for the name.”
John closed his eyes “Ben.”
“I had pocket change.” Mina’s gaze sharpened slightly. Jihyo lowered the folder. Nayeon whispered, “Pocket change?” I shrugged “So I bought the company.”
Silence. Absolute. Then everyone spoke at once.
“You what?” Yeji said.
“Oh my God,” Lia whispered.
Ryujin stood up halfway “Boss behavior.”
Yuna’s mouth dropped open “You bought a company because someone didn’t pay for a tattoo?”
Chaeryeong looked horrified “That is… very intense customer service.”
Sana clasped her hands “That is scary but loyal.”
Jeongyeon stared at me “That is not normal loyalty.”
Momo frowned “Did the artist get paid?”
“Yes.”
Momo nodded “Good.”
Tzuyu looked at me calmly “Did you fire the person?”
“It was the first thing I did.”
Tzuyu nodded once “Then he learned.”
John pointed both hands at me “You bought the biggest investment bank in Korea and called it pocket change?” I looked at him. “I did not say biggest.”
“You implied something horrifying.”
“I said company.”
“You said investment broker.”
“That does not mean biggest.”
Mina took a slow sip of water “It was one of the bigger ones.”
John turned toward her “You knew?”
Mina looked at him calmly “Ben is not the only one with resources.”
The room paused. It was the first remotely smug thing Mina had said all night. John stared at Mina “Was that a flex?” Mina blinked once “No.” Mina took another sip of water “If it helps, I only checked because it was unusual.”
Jihyo looked at me with the expression of someone adding five more clauses to the JYP pitch in her head “You bought an investment firm to fire one man?”
“I also restructured it.”
John threw his hands up “There it is.”
I looked at him “What?”
“You cannot say ‘also restructured it’ like you rearranged furniture.”
Mina tilted her head “Was it poorly managed?”
“Yes.”
“Then restructuring was appropriate.”
John pointed at her without looking away from me “You are not helping.”
Ryujin slowly turned to Yeji “Unnie, your boyfriend is terrifying.”
Yeji was still staring at me. “I know.”
Yuna leaned closer “And you love him.”
Yeji did not deny it fast enough.
Nayeon smiled “She really does.”
Yeji covered her face “I am trying to be angry.”
Lia looked at me “Was the tattoo artist at least grateful?”
“He has never leaked anything.”
“That is not the same as grateful.”
“He sends me holiday discounts.”
Chaeyoung blinked “You buy companies for him and he gives you discounts?”
“I told him not to.”
Dahyun nodded solemnly “That is friendship.”
John stared at the ceiling “I am going to develop a medical condition from knowing you.”
Jihyo finally exhaled and tucked the folder under her arm “We are going before I start thinking of more clauses.” TWICE finally began moving toward the elevator for real this time. There were more hugs. More warnings. More jokes about the tattoo. More comments about Yeji being the only person capable of keeping me from accidentally buying another company before breakfast.
“Actually,” Yeji said, pointing at me before anyone could step into the elevator, “stop buying companies, restaurants, buildings, or entire establishments because someone inconveniences you.” I looked offended. “I do not do that.” The entire room stared at me.
“You absolutely do,” Jihyo said.
“Frequently,” Mina added.
“Historically,” John said.
Yeji folded her arms “No more buying things out of spite.”
“Out of loyalty,” I corrected.
“Out of spite.”
“Sometimes both.”
“Benjie.”
I sighed dramatically “Fine.”
She narrowed her eyes “That sounded fake.”
“It was a little fake.”
“Ben.”
I looked at her “What am I supposed to do if a restaurant makes you wait forty-five minutes for your food?”
The room immediately erupted.
“No,” John shouted.
“Absolutely not,” Jihyo added.
Ryujin doubled over laughing.
“He already has a contingency plan.”
Yuna pointed at me.
“He’s thought about this before.”
“I have not.”
“You answered too fast,” Lia said.
Yeji stared at me “You are not buying a restaurant because my food is late.”
“What if you're hungry?”
“Ben.”
“What if you're sad?”
“Ben.”
“What if they forget your order twice?”
“BEN.”
I held up both hands “Okay, okay.”
Nayeon was laughing so hard she had to lean against the elevator wall “This is the most billionaire boyfriend conversation I've ever heard.” Sana clasped her hands “He just wants her fed.”
“That is somehow sweet and terrifying,” Chaeryeong said. Momo nodded “As long as the food arrives eventually.” Tzuyu looked at me thoughtfully “If they forget three times?”
“Do not encourage him,” Yeji said immediately.
“I was curious.”
John pointed at Yeji “See? This is why you're the only safeguard we have.” Yeji groaned. “I should not have this responsibility.”
“You accepted it when you started dating him,” Ryujin said.
“I did not sign anything.”
Mina tilted her head “There may be paperwork somewhere.”
“Mina,” John said weakly.
Nayeon pointed at Yeji one last time. “Good luck preventing hostile restaurant acquisitions.” Yeji covered her face “I hate all of you.”
“You love us,” Sana sang. Then the elevator doors began to close. Nayeon stuck her hand out suddenly, stopping them “Wait.” Everyone froze. Yeji looked up warily “What?” Nayeon smiled “Make him put your name first.”
Yeji covered her face, I smiled, John pointed at me from inside the elevator “Do not smile. You are the problem.”
“I am aware.”
“You are not aware enough.”
The elevator doors began to close again. Sana waved “Good luck, almost-wife.” Yeji made a strangled sound. Dahyun’s voice slipped through before the doors shut “Breaking news: tomorrow’s JYP pitch now includes tattoo liability.” Then they were gone.
The Top Floor fell quiet. Not empty. Never empty anymore. Just quieter. Yeji stood beside me, arms folded, cheeks still pink “You are exhausting.”
“I love you too.”
“That was not what I said.”
“It was implied.”
She tried to glare. Failed. Then reached for my hand anyway. I looked at her. She looked back. Still mad. Still mine in the ways she allowed herself to be.
“Temporary,” she said.
“Temporary.”
“And I choose placement.”
“You choose placement.”
“And font.”
“And font.”
Chaeryeong’s voice came softer, amused despite herself “Do we still need more food tomorrow?” I looked around the Top Floor. I looked at Yeji. She narrowed her eyes. “Do not look excited.” I smiled.
Word Count: 9.9k
No smut in this chapter, purely plot
The Top Floor was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet, ambush quiet. The kind of quiet that meant everyone had already woken up, already gathered somewhere, and already decided I was the morning’s main topic without inviting me to the meeting.
I fixed the front of my shirt, ran a hand through my hair, and stepped into the common area with the careful composure of a man who absolutely did not look like he had just spent the night in Yuna’s room. Unfortunately, Yeji was already there. So were Lia and Ryujin. All three sat around the kitchen island like a tribunal with breakfast privileges. Yeji had coffee. Lia had tea. Ryujin had cereal— directly from the box.
I stopped walking. “No,” I said immediately.
Ryujin looked up, spoon still in her mouth.
“You don’t even know what we’re going to say.”
“I know the category.”
Lia took a slow sip of tea.
“That sounds like guilt.”
“That sounds like self-preservation.”
Yeji did not say anything at first. That was worse. She only looked at me over the rim of her cup, calm and unreadable in that very specific way that meant she had already understood everything and was deciding how merciful she felt.
I looked at her. She looked back. Then I very carefully started turning toward the hallway again. “Nope.” Yeji set her cup down “Ben.” I froze.
Ryujin’s spoon stopped halfway to her mouth. Lia’s brows lifted slightly. Yeji’s voice stayed soft “Come back.” I closed my eyes. “Yeji.”
“Be a good boy and sit.”
Silence. Immediate. Catastrophic. Ryujin slowly lowered the cereal box. Lia blinked once. Yeji seemed to realize what she had said only after it had already taken physical form in the room, but to her credit, she did not take it back. I turned around. Looked at her. Looked at Ryujin. Looked at Lia. Then walked back to the kitchen island and sat down on the stool beside Yeji.
Ryujin stared at me “Oh my God.”
“Do not.”
“She really just—”
“Ryujin.”
“And you really just—”
“Ryujin.”
Lia covered her mouth with one hand, though whether from shock or amusement, I could not tell. Yeji lifted her coffee again with the calm of a woman who had decided to survive by pretending nothing strange had happened.
“That worked too well,” Ryujin whispered.
“It did not,” I said.
“You sat.”
“I chose diplomacy.”
“You obeyed.”
“I chose survival.”
Lia finally lowered her hand. “That was… informative.”
“Nothing was informed,” I said.
Ryujin pointed her spoon at Yeji.
“She has him on a leash.”
Yeji turned pink immediately. “I do not.”
I looked at Ryujin. “Incorrect.”
Yeji slowly turned toward me.
I cleared my throat “I meant emotionally.”
“That did not help,” Lia said.
Ryujin leaned back, delighted “This breakfast is already historic.”
I rubbed my forehead “I need coffee.”
“You need accountability,” Ryujin corrected.
“I need silence.”
“You live here,” Lia said calmly. “Be realistic.”
Outstanding. Yeji finally looked at me properly. There was no accusation in her expression. No anger. No hurt. Obvious enough for anyone else to name. Just steadiness. And that somehow made me feel more exposed. “It happened,” I said quietly.
The kitchen went still. Not shocked. Just still. Because no one needed to ask who. Yuna had been quiet last night. Yuna had looked at me differently. Yuna had told me to rest. They already knew. Ryujin’s eyebrows lifted anyway, because naturally she was allergic to silence.
“So.”
“No.”
“I haven’t asked anything.”
“You are about to.”
“I was going to be tasteful.”
“No, you were not.”
“I was going to try.”
“No, you were not.”
Lia took another sip of tea “He is correct.”
Ryujin looked offended “I am capable of tact.”
Yeji looked at her. Ryujin sighed.
“Fine. I am capable of delaying tactless commentary.”
“That is closer,” Lia said.
Yeji’s gaze returned to me “She’s asleep?”
I nodded.
“She was when I left.”
That softened something in her face. Good. That was the first thing that mattered. Lia set her cup down. “Is she okay?”
“Yes.” The answer came out immediately. No hesitation. Lia watched me for another second, then nodded. Ryujin leaned forward, her teasing dimming just slightly around the edges “Okay as in okay, or okay as in you’re doing manager-language damage control?” I looked at her “Okay as in she was safe, comfortable, and resting.” Ryujin’s face shifted, not much, but enough. “Good,” she said.
Then, because she was Ryujin, she immediately ruined the softness. “So Yuna got the careful version.” I stared at her. “Ryujin.”
“What? I’m not asking for details. I’m categorizing.”
Lia closed her eyes “Please don’t.”
Ryujin ignored her completely.
“Yeji gets the emotionally devastating version. Lia gets the quiet slow-burn version. I get the version with workplace violations.”
“Ryujin,” Yeji warned.
“And Yuna gets the first-time careful version.”
I looked at her. She smiled sweetly. “I’m just saying the ecosystem is diversifying.” Lia covered her face “I hate that that sentence made sense.” Yeji sighed into her coffee. I stared at the counter.
“I am going to retire.”
“You are underpaid,” Lia said. “You cannot afford retirement.”
“That is deeply cruel.”
“That is technically your contract.”
Ryujin pointed at Lia “She’s on fire today.”
“I am tired,” Lia corrected. “There is a difference.”
Yeji’s voice came quieter “Were you gentle with her?” The question was not for me at first. Not fully. It slipped out like something she had been holding beneath everything else. Ryujin stopped moving. Lia looked at Yeji. I looked at her too. Yeji did not take the question back. Her expression remained calm, but there was something beneath it now. Not jealousy exactly. Not fear. Responsibility.
She was not asking because she wanted details. She was asking because it was Yuna. Because Yuna was bold and reckless and proud, but still the youngest. Because Yeji had carried that kind of responsibility longer than any of them liked to admit. I answered immediately.
“Yes.” Yeji held my gaze. I did not look away. “I was careful,” I said. “She didn’t have to prove anything. Not to me. Not to herself.” Something softened in Yeji’s face. That was the only answer that mattered. Lia’s voice gentled. “She was nervous?”
I hesitated. Not because I didn’t want to answer. Because it felt like Yuna’s truth to give. “She was honest,” I said finally. “That mattered more.” Lia understood. Ryujin leaned back, quieter now. “Our Yuna being honest is more terrifying than our Yuna being shameless.”
“That is accurate,” Yeji murmured.
I looked at all three of them. “You knew?” Ryujin scoffed. “Ben.” Lia tilted her head. “She told you to rest last night.” Yeji looked down into her cup. “And she looked at you like she had stopped trying to win.” That landed harder than I expected.
Ryujin nodded.
“She spent a week trying to make you lose control. Then suddenly she was quiet and told you to take care of yourself. That is not subtle.” I exhaled slowly.
“She said she wasn’t asking for Yeji’s place.” The kitchen softened again. Even Ryujin. Especially Ryujin, maybe. Yeji went very still.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
My voice lowered. “I went to her room.” The answer was simple, but not careless. Yeji understood what I meant. I did not take Yuna into the space that belonged to us. I did not blur that line. I did not pretend the room did not matter. Yeji’s gaze softened. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
Ryujin looked between us and made a face “God, you two are emotionally married.”
Lia nodded “They are.”
Yeji turned slightly pink. I stared at Ryujin “You are eating cereal from a box. You don’t get to judge marriage dynamics.”
“I am spiritually qualified.”
“No, you are not.”
“I have experience.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Before Ryujin could make the conversation worse, there was movement down the hall. All of us turned. Yuna appeared at the edge of the kitchen wearing the same oversized hoodie from last night, hair messy, face still soft from sleep. She stopped when she saw all of us. Then her eyes moved from Yeji, to Lia, to Ryujin, to me. A slow understanding settled over her face.
Then she gasped. Not naturally. Theatrically. “Oh,” she said, pressing one hand lightly against her chest. “So this is where you went.” I stared at her “Yuna.” She looked at me with wide, wounded eyes that did not fool a single person in the room. “You left me sleeping alone after taking my virginity?”
Silence. Immediate. Catastrophic.
Ryujin’s spoon froze halfway to her mouth. Lia closed her eyes like she had just felt a headache arrive in real time. Yeji made a tiny sound into her coffee. I stared at the ceiling. “Outstanding,” I muttered. “Fantastic. We’re starting there.” Yuna tilted her head, still pretending to be hurt “What? I woke up and you were gone.”
“You were asleep.”
“So you admit it.”
“That I let you sleep?”
“That you abandoned me.”
“To get coffee.”
“After taking my virginity.”
Ryujin slowly lowered her cereal box “I have never been happier to be awake.”
Lia sighed “Yuna.”
Yuna’s eyes flicked toward her, bright with mischief now.
“What? It’s true.”
Yeji finally set her cup down, her cheeks faintly pink but her expression trying very hard to remain leader-like. “There are gentler ways to say that.” Yuna thought about it for exactly one second. Then smiled. “Ben left my room after a very meaningful personal milestone.”
Ryujin nodded solemnly “Worse.” Lia covered her mouth. I looked at Yuna “I didn’t give them any details, you know.” That changed her expression. Just slightly. The performance softened. The teasing remained, but beneath it, something warmer appeared.
“He didn’t?” she asked.
Yeji nodded “More like he refused.”
Lia added calmly, “Annoyingly well.”
Ryujin looked offended “Heroically annoying.”
Yuna stared at me for one second. Then something in her face softened fully. Not because she was embarrassed. Because she understood what I had protected.
Then, naturally, she ruined it again.
“Oh,” she said, walking toward the kitchen island.
“So I have to tell them myself?”
I closed my eyes. Ryujin sat up so fast the cereal nearly spilled.
Lia whispered, “Oh no.”
Yeji sighed “Yuna.”
Yuna smiled. There she was. Still tired. Still changed. Still dangerous; But smiling again.
“What?” she asked sweetly. “They were curious.”
Ryujin pointed at her “See? She understands journalism.”
“It is not journalism,” Lia said.
“It is if the source volunteers,” Ryujin replied.
Yuna slipped onto the stool beside me, close enough that her shoulder brushed mine. Not accidental, but softer than her usual attacks. Yeji noticed she always does. Yuna looked at her first. That mattered. “He was careful,” Yuna said. The whole room quieted. Just like that. No jokes. Just Yuna, saying the first thing that actually mattered. Yeji’s expression softened “I know.” Yuna blinked. Then looked at me “He told you?”
“He told us that and it was enough,” Lia said gently.
Ryujin’s voice came quieter than usual “He refused to be fun.”
Yuna smiled faintly “Good.”
That one hit me harder than expected. Then she leaned back slightly, gathering herself. Not because she was shy. Because she was deciding how much of herself she wanted to put in the room. “It was my choice,” Yuna said. “I asked him. I wanted him. And I knew what I was doing.”
Yeji held her gaze “I believe you.”
Yuna’s smile softened “Thank you.”
Then Ryujin raised her hand.
“That was beautiful. Deeply mature. Very important. Now, with respect—”
“No,” Yeji said immediately.
Ryujin pointed at Yuna.
“She said she would tell us herself.”
“I said I had to,” Yuna corrected. “That doesn’t mean I’m giving you a documentary.”
Ryujin’s mouth dropped open “Betrayal.”
Lia looked toward Yuna, her concern more visible now “Are you actually alright?” Yuna’s expression softened.
Yeji continued, careful but direct “We meant physically too. It was your first time, and Ben is…” She stopped. Her eyes flicked briefly toward me. Then away.
Ryujin grinned slowly “Unfairly gifted?”
Yeji covered her face.
Lia sighed. “Me and Yeji were trying to be tactful.”
“That was your first mistake,” Ryujin said.
Yuna looked between all of them. Then, shamelessly:
“Oh he IS ‘unfairly gifted’, and it hurt.”
I immediately stared at the counter. Yeji made a strangled sound. Lia’s eyes widened. Ryujin looked like Christmas had arrived early.
Yuna lifted one shoulder “What? It did.”
“Yuna,” Yeji said weakly.
“But,” Yuna continued, glancing at me, and this time the smile turned softer, “he was so gentle that I barely remember the pain first.”
The room went quiet again.
Yuna’s voice lowered “I remember how careful he was. How nice it felt when I stopped being scared of it. How he kept checking if I was okay even when I was the one pulling him closer.” She looked down for half a second, fingers brushing lightly against the sleeve of her hoodie.
“I remember him asking if I was alright. Over and over. I remember how slowly he moved until I adjusted. And I remember thinking that I didn’t feel rushed. Or stupid. Or small.” Her eyes lifted back to mine. “Ben made me feel seen, cared for, and wanted at the same time.”
That silenced the room in a way I did not know what to do with. Lia looked at me with a warm, appreciative smile. Ryujin, somehow, did not look remotely embarrassed by any of this. Yeji, on the other hand, was blushing harder than I had ever seen her blush in my life. Lia looked back at Yuna “I’m glad he took care of y—”
“— and then Ben proceeded to have his way with me.”
Silence.
Then Ryujin came back to life like someone had plugged her directly into a power source “THAT’S WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR”
“Ryujin,” Lia said, horrified.
“What? She said it. I didn’t drag it out of her.”
“You were absolutely waiting with a shovel,” Yeji muttered.
Ryujin pointed at Yuna. “And she buried us herself. Respect.”
I slowly lifted one hand “Can we maybe not describe this like a crime scene?”
Yuna looked at me, eyes bright with mischief “But you were very thorough.”
Lia made a tiny sound and immediately reached for her tea. Yeji stared into her coffee like the surface might open and save her. Ryujin leaned forward “Define thorough.”
“No,” I said.
Yuna smiled “Do you want the emotional definition or the physical one?”
“Yuna,” Yeji said, voice cracking slightly.
“What?” Yuna looked genuinely pleased with herself now. “I’m being honest.”
“There are gentler ways to be honest,” I said.
Yuna turned toward me “You came inside me three times nonstop.”
Yeji slowly lifted her face from her hands and looked at me with disbelief so sharp it should have required paperwork. Lia’s warmth vanished instantly, replaced by the calm, flat stare of a woman rescinding all emotional credit she had given me ten seconds ago. Ryujin looked hungry— and not for cereal.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again “It is not what all of you are thinking.”
Ryujin slapped the counter “It is exactly what I’m thinking.”
“You do not even know the context.”
“I don’t need context. I have numbers.”
Lia looked at me “Ben.”
“That tone sounds unfair.”
“That tone is extremely fair.”
Yeji was still staring at me “Three?”
I looked at her “Babe, that is a very hostile question.”
“It is a numerical question.”
“Numbers can be hostile.”
Ryujin pointed at Yeji “She’s jealous.”
Yeji immediately turned redder “I am not.”
Ryujin’s grin widened “You are.”
“I am not jealous.”
Lia looked at Yeji “You are a little.”
Yeji looked betrayed “Lia.”
“I said a little.”
Ryujin leaned back, delighted “Leader-nim is jealous because Yuna got quantity.”
Yeji covered her face again “I cannot believe this is happening before coffee.” Yuna rested her chin in one hand and smiled at Yeji “Unnie, you still have quality.”
“That does not help,” Yeji said through her hands.
I rubbed my forehead “It really does not.”
Ryujin looked at me “Wait. Does Yeji not get quantity?”
I stared at her “Ryujin.”
Yeji slowly lowered her hands. Her face was still flushed, but her eyes had narrowed now. Not angry. Worse. Playfully dangerous. “That is a good question.”
I looked at her “Babe... Please… Not like this.” She tilted her head “I am just asking for clarification.” Ryujin pointed between us, delighted “Oh, she’s using your manager voice against you.” Lia sipped her tea “Efficient.”
Yeji looked at me over her cup, cheeks still pink but expression far too composed “I enjoy the quality Ben gives me.” My soul left my body. Ryujin made a strangled sound. Yuna’s eyes widened with immediate interest. Lia closed her eyes. Yeji continued, quieter but very much audible “But apparently I should have negotiated quantity too.”
The sound Ryujin made was not human. Yuna dissolved into laughter against the counter. Lia whispered, “Yeji.” Yeji finally looked away, face burning, but the smallest smile tugged at her mouth like she was proud of herself and horrified by it at the same time.
I stared at her “You cannot say things like that and then pretend to be the responsible one.” Yeji lifted her coffee “I am still the responsible one.” Ryujin nodded solemnly. “With princess demands.”
Yeji immediately lifted her chin “I’m Ben’s girlfriend. I deserve princess demands.” The kitchen froze for half a second. Then Yuna pointed at Yeji “Wait. If you’re the princess, does that make the rest of us consorts?” Ryujin nodded thoughtfully. “I’m fine with that.” Lia looked suspicious already “Ryujin.”
“As long as I get a royal pounding.” The silence that followed was catastrophic. Lia nearly choked on her tea. Yuna doubled over laughing. I closed my eyes “Absolutely not.” Yeji, unfortunately, was no longer interested in being the responsible one. She pointed at Ryujin “You cannot put that in the royal charter.”
“Why not?” Ryujin asked. “I’m negotiating benefits.” Yuna was still laughing “Consort Ryujin has demands too.”
“Princess demands,” Ryujin corrected.
Yeji nodded “Fair.”
“Yeji,” Lia said in disbelief.
“What?” Yeji's cheeks were pink, but she was smiling now. “If we're apparently building a monarchy, we should establish standards.” I stared at her “Babe, you are encouraging this.”
“I am participating,” Yeji corrected.
“That is worse.”
Ryujin slapped the counter “The princess has spoken.” Yuna pointed at me “Manager-nim, your performance review is getting complicated.”
“My performance review is no longer open for discussion.”
“That sounds like someone avoiding accountability,” Lia said.
“I am being attacked by statistics.”
Ryujin raised her spoon “Three is a statistic.”
“Ryujin.”
“Technically,” Lia said, “she is correct.”
I looked at her “You were supposed to be merciful one here.”
“I was,” Lia replied. “Then Yuna said three.”
Yuna shrugged, still smiling “It was memorable.”
Yeji’s eyes flicked toward me again. I caught it. The embarrassment was still there, but underneath it was amusement. Affection. And maybe, unfortunately for me, curiosity. I leaned closer to her, lowering my voice “Babe, you are enjoying this too much.” Yeji looked at me over the rim of her cup. “Be a good boy and survive breakfast.”
Then, before I could answer, she set her coffee down. The movement was so casual that nobody reacted at first. Not until Yeji leaned over and kissed me. Not a quick peck. Not an accidental brush. An actual kiss. Warm. Certain. Comfortable.
The kitchen froze. Again. When she pulled back, her face was already turning red. But she still looked directly at me “I love you”. For one second, my brain completely stopped functioning. Then I smiled. Leaning forward, I kissed her back “Love you too, Babe.”
The silence somehow became even louder. Ryujin looked physically wounded. Lia's eyes had widened so much she nearly dropped her tea. Yuna stared between us with open disbelief. Yeji immediately grabbed her coffee again like she could hide behind it. It did not work.
Ryujin pointed at us with both hands “No.”
Lia nodded “No.”
Yuna nodded too “Absolutely not.”
Yeji blinked “What?”
“You don't get to do that,” Ryujin said.
“Do what?”
“Be disgustingly cute immediately after discussing Ben's statistical achievements.”
“Statistical achievements?” I repeated.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“I wish I didn't.”
Yuna looked at Yeji “Wait.”
Yeji immediately looked suspicious “What?”
“That was your first public kiss.”
The realization hit the room all at once. Lia lowered her cup “Oh.” Ryujin's jaw dropped “Oh my God”. Yeji froze. Then slowly turned toward me. Then toward everyone else. Then back toward me. Her face became the exact color of a fire alarm “Oh”. Yuna immediately started laughing “You didn't even realize.”
“I did realize.”
“You absolutely didn't.”
“I did.”
“You kissed him and forgot we existed.”
Yeji covered her face “I hate all of you.”
“No you don't,” Lia said gently.
“No,” Ryujin agreed. “She loves us. Unfortunately.”
Yuna pointed at me “And she definitely loves him.”
Yeji made a small embarrassed noise, I smiled into my coffee. Ryujin immediately caught it. “Oh, look at him.”
“Don't.”
“He's so happy.”
“I am drinking coffee.”
“You're glowing.”
“I am not glowing.”
“You're glowing.”
Lia looked at me “You are a little.”
“Traitor”
Yuna leaned against my shoulder again “Honestly, this is kind of adorable.” Yeji groaned “Please stop helping.” Ryujin pointed between us “No, no. We need to discuss the real issue.”
“There is no real issue.”
“There is.”
She pointed directly at Yeji “The leash.”
Yeji nearly choked on her coffee.
“Ryujin.”
“The leash remains active.” Lia nodded thoughtfully.
“The evidence is compelling.” Yuna raised a hand.
“I would like to submit today's kiss as Exhibit A.”
“I hate this kitchen.”
Ryujin looked at me “Ben.”
“No.”
“Ben.”
“No.”
“Does she have you on a leash?”
I looked at Yeji. Yeji looked back at me. Still red. Still embarrassed. Still somehow trying to look authoritative. I sighed “Maybe.”
The room exploded.
“I KNEW IT,” Ryujin shouted.
“Ben,” Lia said, laughing now.
Yuna looked delighted.
Yeji stared at me “Maybe?”
I pointed at her “You literally just told me to be a good boy.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It felt pretty similar.”
Ryujin slapped the counter “He admits it.”
“I admitted nothing.”
“You said maybe.”
“I said maybe.”
“That's an admission.”
Yeji shook her head “You're impossible.”
I looked at her “You're the one everyone thinks has me on a leash.”
Ryujin immediately pointed at Yeji “Because she does.”
Yuna nodded “She absolutely does.”
Lia smiled into her tea “I don't think Ben is fighting very hard.”
I looked around the room Then shrugged “Maybe because I don't mind.” The screaming started again. Ryujin nearly fell off her stool. Yuna kept laughing over. Lia covered her face. Yeji looked like she wanted the floor to open beneath her.
I lifted my coffee. “What?”
“You don't mind?” Ryujin repeated.
I considered it then nodded “Honestly?”
“OH MY GOD.”
“Honestly,” I continued, “I might actually like it.”
Yeji made a sound that could only be described as a system failure. Ryujin was crying. Actually crying. Yuna was no longer capable of standing upright. Lia had abandoned all attempts at dignity. I pointed at Ryujin “And for the record, I was serious earlier.”
Ryujin froze “Oh no.”
I nodded “If treats are involved, I might bark.”
The kitchen detonated. Yeji buried her face in both hands. Yuna collapsed against the counter. Lia laughed so hard she had to put her tea down. Ryujin looked like she had achieved enlightenment “I've never seen a man surrender this completely.” I raised my coffee “Love is about trust.”
“THAT IS NOT WHAT THAT MEANS” Yeji finally looked up from behind her hands. Her face was still bright red. But she was smiling. And despite all the teasing, all the embarrassment, and all the chaos around us— she looked happy. Which, unfortunately for my dignity, probably proved everyone's point. She does have me on a leash.
Ryujin dropped her spoon into the cereal box “There it is again.” Lia nodded once “The leash is active.” Yeji’s face went completely red. I stared down into my coffee “I am moving countries.” Yuna leaned against my shoulder again, laughing softly now “You’d miss us.”
“That is the problem.” For a few seconds, the room stayed suspended between horror, laughter, and the kind of warmth that only existed because everyone had somehow survived the truth without breaking. Then Yuna looked back at Lia. “So yes,” she said, finally answering the original question with an almost angelic smile. “I’m alright.” Then, after a beat, her smile returned in full. “Actually, I’m more than alright.” Ryujin made a delighted sound “There she is.”
Lia looked relieved despite herself. Yeji watched Yuna for a long moment, then nodded “Good”. Yuna smiled at her “Unnie, you look like you want to scold me and hug me at the same time.”
“I do.”
“That’s fair.”
Ryujin leaned forward “So since you’re alright—”
“No,” I said.
Yuna tilted her head “No to what?”
“To whatever is about to happen.”
Ryujin pointed at me “He’s scared.”
Yuna rested her chin lightly on one hand “Do you want to know what surprised me most?”
“No,” I said immediately.
Ryujin said, “Yes.”
Lia said, “Carefully.”
Yeji said nothing, which somehow meant all three answers at once.
Yuna’s smile sharpened “He finally admitted I’m hot.”
Ryujin slapped the counter “I knew that mattered.”
“It did,” Yuna said proudly.
I looked at her “That was not the most important part of the conversation.”
“It was one of the important parts.”
“It was emotional support.”
“It was practical support,” Yuna corrected.
Lia smiled into her tea “Very Yuna”. Yuna looked at me, eyes bright “He said only an idiot would spend that much time near ITZY’s maknae and not want her”. Ryujin slowly turned toward me. Yeji’s eyes widened. Lia blinked. I stared at Yuna “That was private dialogue.” Yuna smiled “It wasn’t a sex detail.” Ryujin leaned forward like she had received divine prophecy “Dialogue counts.”
“No, it does not.”
“It absolutely does,” Ryujin said. “Tone. Context. Setting. Very important.” Yuna tilted her head, pretending to think. “Then I probably shouldn’t mention the part where he said—”
“Yuna.” She grinned. “Fine. I’ll save that for later.” Lia muttered, “There is going to be a later.” Ryujin looked spiritually moved. “This is the best breakfast of my life.” Yeji finally looked at Yuna properly again “You’re really okay?”
The room quieted. Yuna looked back at her. This time, she did not joke immediately. “Yeah,” she said. “I am.” Then, softer “More than okay.” Lia’s face gentled. Ryujin’s teasing softened around the edges. Yeji just smiled.
For exactly two seconds, the room stayed warm. Then Yuna decided sincerity had been allowed to exist long enough. “Although,” she added, turning toward Ryujin, “you were not exaggerating.” Ryujin’s entire face lit up. I stood. “No.” Lia covered her mouth. Yeji’s eyes widened. Yuna smiled at me like she had found the exact lever marked catastrophe “I’m just saying, for a first time, it was a little unfair.” Ryujin pointed at me “I knew it.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know enough.”
“Ryujin.”
“What? I said nothing specific.”
Yuna leaned toward Lia with the solemnity of someone giving a medical report “Let’s just say I understand why he walks around acting like restraint is a public service.” Lia made a sound that was half choke, half laugh. Yeji covered her face. I stared at the ceiling. “Outstanding. Wonderful. Fantastic breakfast.” Ryujin looked like she was about to ascend. “Yuna, I have never been prouder of you.” Yuna smiled. “Thank you.”
“That was not praise,” Yeji said weakly.
“It sounded like praise,” Yuna replied.
“That is because Ryujin is broken.”
Ryujin pointed her spoon at me “Question.”
“No.”
“If Yuna survived the careful version, does that mean—”
“No.”
“—she gets promoted?”
“Absolutely not.”
Yuna’s eyes sharpened “Promoted?”
I looked at Ryujin with betrayal.
Ryujin smiled “I said what I said.”
Yuna turned toward me.
“There are levels?”
Lia whispered, “Oh God no.”
Yeji lowered her hands from her face with the expression of a woman realizing the room had escaped her leadership authority.
“There are not levels,” I said.
Ryujin nodded “There are absolutely levels.”
Yuna’s smile widened “Interesting.”
“That word has become a threat,” I said.
Yuna leaned closer, still smiling, but her voice dipped softly enough that only I caught the warmth beneath it “You like threats.”
“Not before coffee.”
“You like me before coffee.”
The kitchen froze. Ryujin’s spoon stopped midair. Lia looked down into her tea. Yeji looked between us. I looked at Yuna. For once, she did not hide behind the joke. The line had been playful. But the feeling underneath it was not. “Yes,” I said quietly. “I do.” Yuna’s smile softened. Just for a second. Then Ryujin ruined the moment, naturally.
“Emotionally devastating breakfast.”
Lia nodded “With cereal.”
Yeji exhaled slowly “We need rules.”
Ryujin perked up “Sex rules?”
“Room rules,” Yeji corrected immediately.
“Coward.”
“Leader.”
“Same thing sometimes.”
Yuna laughed softly at that, leaning her cheek against her hand as she looked around the island. For once, she did not look like she was trying to win the room, she looked like she was in it. Really in it. Not watching from the outside. Not poking at glass. Not trying to prove she belonged in a conversation everyone else already understood. Just sitting there, shoulder near mine, surrounded by the women who had seen too much, asked too much, laughed too hard, and still looked at her like she had not broken anything by wanting me too.
That seemed to hit her a second later. Her smile softened. Yeji noticed. Of course she did. Lia noticed too, because Lia always noticed quiet shifts before anyone else knew they had happened. Ryujin noticed and, somehow, made the rare heroic choice not to immediately weaponize it. Yuna looked down at her sleeve for half a second. Then she smiled again, smaller this time.
“This feels weird,” she said.
Ryujin tilted her head “What does?”
Yuna shrugged, trying to make it sound casual “Not being left out.”
The kitchen went quiet. Not painfully. Not dramatically. Just carefully. Like everyone heard the line and instinctively knew not to step on it too quickly. Yeji’s expression softened first. Lia’s fingers stilled around her tea. Ryujin’s spoon lowered by half an inch. I looked at Yuna. She looked back at me. For once, there was no challenge in it. Just honesty, standing there without armor. Then, because she was still Yuna and apparently allergic to sincerity lasting longer than two seconds, she rolled her eyes.
“Don’t make that face. I’m not being sad.”
“You were being honest,” Lia said gently.
Yuna grimaced “That’s worse.”
Ryujin nodded solemnly “Honestly devastating breakfast.”
“With cereal,” Lia added automatically.
Yuna laughed at that, and the sound loosened the room again.
She leaned back slightly, eyes moving from Yeji to Ryujin to Lia, then finally toward the hallway “Anyway,” she said, almost too casually, “Chaeryeong is really missing out.” The silence that followed was instant. Yeji turned toward her. “What?” Yuna blinked. Then the realization hit her “Oh.” Lia set her tea down very slowly. Ryujin leaned forward. I stopped breathing. Yuna looked between all of them, her smile turning a little apologetic and a little amused at the same time.
“You didn’t know she knew.”
Yeji’s voice came carefully “Chaeryeong knew?”
Yuna pressed her lips together, then lifted one shoulder “Unnie, respectfully…”
She glanced around the room “You were not subtle.”
Ryujin stared “None of us?”
“No.”
Lia closed her eyes “Of course.”
Yuna pointed lightly toward Yeji “You and Ben were obvious in the way people are obvious when they think being quiet makes them invisible.” Yeji’s cheeks warmed.
Yuna pointed toward Ryujin next “You were obvious because you are physically incapable of not looking proud after causing problems.” Ryujin opened her mouth. Closed it. Then nodded “Fair.”
Yuna looked at me “And Ben was obvious because every time someone said my name, he started acting like he was managing a live explosive.” I stared at her “That is inaccurate.”
Lia looked at me “It is not.”
Yeji took a sip of coffee “It really is not.”
Ryujin grinned “Live explosive Yuna is a good nickname.”
Yuna smiled sweetly “I accept.”
I rubbed my forehead “Outstanding.”
Yeji set her cup down carefully “How much did Chaeryeong know?” Yuna looked back at her “Enough.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the safest answer.”
Ryujin pointed between herself and Yuna “You and Chaeryeong talked?”
“Yes.”
“About Ben?”
“Yes.”
“About us?”
Yuna hesitated. That was answer enough. Ryujin’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” Yuna lifted both hands “Not everything.” Lia’s brows rose “Define not everything.” Yuna looked at me. Then at Yeji. Then at Ryujin. Then back at Lia “Well…”
I immediately stood “Nope.”
Lia looked at me “Sit down.”
“I suddenly remembered work.”
“No, you didn’t,” Yeji said.
I looked at her. She looked back. Softly. Dangerously calm.
“Be a good boy.”
The room went silent again. I sat back down.
Ryujin whispered, “Leash.”
Lia nodded once “Still active.”
Yeji’s face went pink. Yuna laughed, bright and fully awake now. I stared into my coffee and accepted defeat. Ryujin leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
“So Chaeryeong knew about Yeji.” Yuna nodded.
“And me?”
“She had suspicions.”
Ryujin looked offended “Suspicions?”
Yuna gave her a look “Unnie, you came back from certain rooms looking like you had personally won a war.”
Ryujin smiled “Okay, that one is correct, and also fair.”
Yeji covered her face again.
Lia looked toward the hallway, thoughtful now “And she knew about you?”
Yuna’s expression shifted. Not embarrassed. Not exactly. More like remembering “She knew I wanted to stop being outside it.” That quieted the room again. Yuna looked down at her sleeve, then continued before anyone could interrupt “She didn’t push me. She didn’t tell me to do anything. She just… knew. She said I was only pretending it was about making Ben lose control.”
I looked at her. Yuna glanced at me “She was right.” The words landed softly. Not as a confession. As a conclusion. Yeji watched her carefully. “And you didn’t tell us?” Yuna’s smile turned faintly sheepish
“You were all very busy pretending you were being subtle,” and Yuna continued
“Besides it’s not like I could have walked up to Ben and ask him to take away my virginity that casually.”
“Might have worked for Ryujin unnie—”
“The hell does that even mean?” Ryujin felt betrayed, “Why am I catching strays?”
“— but that would have still been too much of a high risk gamble, if I were to say”.
Ryujin snorted. Lia sighed. Yeji closed her eyes for a second. Yuna leaned back in her chair, looking far too pleased for someone who had just detonated the entire morning.
“Relax,” she said sweetly. “Chaeryeong kept your secrets better than you did.”
That landed harder than the joke around it. The room went quiet. Because suddenly, breakfast was no longer only about Yuna and me. It was about the quietest person on the Top Floor knowing more than everyone realized. The person who had watched, listen, and understood. And said nothing because maybe, in her own way, Chaeryeong had been waiting for someone else to stop being left out first. Ryujin slowly smiled.
“Well,” she said, picking up her cereal again. “This just got interesting.”
“Ryujin” I looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded suspiciously meta.”
“It was spiritually accurate.”
Yuna laughed, Yeji sighed, Lia reached for her tea, and I sat there, already exhausted, as the Top Floor shifted again around a truth none of us had bothered to notice until Yuna said it out loud. Chaeryeong knew.
The realization sat in the middle of the kitchen like an extra person at the table. For once, Ryujin did not immediately attack it. Yuna’s smile had softened into something smaller, almost careful now that the damage had been done. Lia stared into her tea like the answer to everyone’s collective lack of subtlety might be floating somewhere near the surface. Yeji only exhaled, like a leader realizing the meeting she had been avoiding had already started without her permission. I rubbed both hands over my face.
“Outstanding,” I muttered.
Ryujin looked at me “What?”
“I am starting to miss when the biggest problem on this floor was you threatening aegyo mutiny.”
“That problem still exists.”
“Wonderful.”
Before anyone could make it worse, a quiet sound came from the hallway. Not dramatic. Not theatrical. Just the soft shuffle of slippers against the floor. Everyone turned. Chaeryeong stood at the edge of the kitchen with a tray in her hands. Toast. Fruit. A small bowl of eggs. Because apparently, while the rest of us were busy detonating the emotional foundation of the Top Floor, Chaeryeong had been making breakfast. She stopped when she noticed all of us looking at her. Then her gaze moved to Yuna.
Yuna smiled awkwardly. Chaeryeong blinked once. Then sighed. “You told them? Yuna lifted one shoulder “Accidentally.” Ryujin pointed her spoon at her “That was not an accident. That was a controlled demolition.”
“It was emotional honesty.”
“It was demolition with feelings.”
Chaeryeong looked between them, then set the tray carefully on the kitchen island. Far too calmly. That worried me more than if she had panicked. Yeji stood first “Chaeryeong.” Her voice had switched gears into leader mode.
Chaeryeong looked at her. Yeji hesitated for half a second, then continued “I’m sorry.” That made Chaeryeong’s expression shift. Not much but enough “For what?”
“For making you carry it alone,” Yeji said.
The room went quiet. That was the right sentence. Everyone felt it. Even Yuna, especially Yuna. Chaeryeong lowered her eyes briefly, her fingers brushing against the edge of the tray “I wasn’t carrying anything.”
“Chaer,” Yeji said softly. Chaeryeong looked up again. Yeji did not push. She only waited. That was probably why Chaeryeong answered. “I knew enough,” she said. Her voice was quiet, but steady. “I didn’t know everything. I didn’t want to know everything. But I knew enough to understand that something was happening, and everyone was trying very hard to pretend it was not obvious.”
Ryujin slowly lowered her cereal box. Lia looked down. Yuna bit her lower lip. I said nothing. Because there was nothing useful I could say yet. Chaeryeong looked toward Yeji first. “You and Ben were obvious in the quiet way.” Yeji’s cheeks warmed slightly. Then Chaeryeong looked at Ryujin “You were obvious in the loud way.” Ryujin opened her mouth. Chaeryeong added, “It was louder when tried to be silent.” Ryujin closed her mouth. Yuna made a tiny sound that might have been a laugh. Chaeryeong looked at her next “And Yuna…” Yuna straightened. Chaeryeong’s expression softened. “You were obvious because you stopped teasing like it was a game.” Yuna did not answer immediately.
For once. That alone told me how hard the sentence had landed. Then Chaeryeong finally looked at me “And you were obvious because every time something changed, you tried to manage it like a schedule conflict.” Lia made a sound into her tea. Ryujin pointed at me “That is painfully accurate.” I looked at Chaeryeong “I feel attacked.”
“You should,” Lia said calmly.
“Traitor.”
“You earned it.”
Chaeryeong’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Yeji pulled out the stool beside her “Sit with us.” Chaeryeong glanced at the stool. Then at the tray. Then back at everyone “I was just bringing food.”
“Sit,” Yeji said again, softer this time. Not a command. An invitation. Chaeryeong hesitated at first then sat and somehow, that felt bigger than it should have. The kitchen settled around her. Not comfortably. Yuna leaned forward slightly. “I’m sorry too.” Chaeryeong blinked at her. Yuna looked down at her sleeve. “I didn’t mean to throw you into it like that.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean…” Yuna exhaled. “You knew I wanted in before I even said it properly. And I still let everyone find out you knew by accident.” Chaeryeong studied her. Then nodded once “I wasn’t mad.” Yuna looked up. Chaeryeong’s voice softened “I was worried.” That shut Yuna up completely. Ryujin’s eyebrows lifted. Lia’s gaze moved between them. Yeji watched quietly. Chaeryeong continued “You were acting like you were only trying to provoke him. But you weren’t.” Yuna looked away “Yeah.”
“You wanted him to see you.” Yuna’s fingers curled against her sleeve “And last night?” Chaeryeong asked. Yuna looked back at her “He did,” Yuna said softly. Chaeryeong’s expression gentled “Good.” That one word did more than half the morning’s chaos had. It settled something. Not everything.
Ryujin, naturally, began to raise her spoon. Yeji looked at her “No.” Ryujin froze “I didn’t even say anything.”
“You were about to ruin the moment.”
“I was going to support it.”
“With what?”
Ryujin paused then lowered the spoon “Actually, never mind.”
Lia nodded “Growth.”
Ryujin pointed at her “Do not document that.”
“I already did.”
I exhaled slowly and leaned back against the counter. For the first time that morning, the room felt less like it was chasing a crisis and more like it had finally caught up to itself.
Then Lia set her tea down. “So what are we actually doing?” Everyone looked at her. Lia’s expression stayed calm. But her question had weight, a real question. Yeji’s posture shifted. Leader again. Yuna stopped playing with her sleeve. Ryujin went still, which was rare enough to concern me. Chaeryeong looked down at the island. I knew what Lia meant. We all did.
This was no longer about who knew what, or who crossed which line, or who had been pretending not to notice. This was about what happened next. Lia’s gaze moved to me “You can’t keep handling this like isolated incidents.” That one landed. I looked at her and she did not soften it “Yeji. Ryujin. Yuna. Chaeryeong knowing. Me knowing more than I say. The Top Floor. Waterbomb. JYP. John. Jihyo.” Her voice remained even “That is not a list of separate problems anymore.”
The room quieted again. I hated how right she was. Ryujin leaned back “So what is it?” Lia looked around the table “A system,” she said. Nobody spoke. “It’s becoming a system whether we admit it or not.” Yuna’s expression sharpened. Yeji’s eyes lowered to her cup. Chaeryeong held very still. I looked at Lia “And you think we need rules.”
“No,” Lia said. That surprised me. She glanced toward Yeji.
“Rules make it sound like we can control everything if we write it neatly enough.”
Yeji gave a faint smile “True.”
Lia looked back at me “I think we need honesty before we need rules.”
That was worse. Because it was correct. Ryujin groaned softly.
“I hate when Lia says something mature. It makes me feel underdressed emotionally.”
“You are eating cereal from a box,” I said.
“Exactly. I’m not prepared for emotional governance.”
Yuna leaned her chin on her hand “So we admit things?” Yeji nodded slowly “I think we have to”. The room shifted enough that everyone knew the jokes had stepped aside. Yeji looked at me first. Not asking permission. Asking partnership. I nodded once. She took a breath.
“Then I’ll start.” Every eye moved to her. Yeji’s cheeks were still a little pink from earlier, but her voice was steady “Ben and I are together.” The sentence hit differently when said plainly. Not joked around or implied. Not protected by chaos— Together.
Yuna’s expression softened. Ryujin, for once, did not make a sound. Lia watched Yeji with something warm in her eyes. Chaeryeong looked down briefly, then back up. Yeji continued. “I don’t know exactly what that means for everyone else yet. But I know what he is to me.” Her hand moved under the counter. Finding mine. I felt it before anyone saw it.
“I love him,” she said quietly. “And I’m not going to pretend I don’t just because the situation is complicated.” The kitchen went still. My throat tightened. Yeji looked at me. Then, with terrible timing and perfect cruelty, Ryujin whispered “Emotionally devastating breakfast, part two.”
Lia closed her eyes. Yuna made a tiny laugh. Chaeryeong’s mouth twitched again. Yeji sighed “Ryujin.”
“What? I waited.”
“You did,” Lia admitted. “That was restraint.”
Ryujin nodded proudly “I am maturing.”
“No,” Yuna said.
“Fair.”
The tension cracked just enough to breathe. Then Ryujin leaned forward “My turn?” Yeji looked wary “Carefully”. Ryujin grinned “Ben and I have a dynamic”. Lia stared into her tea “That is one word for it.”
“It is the safest word.”
Yuna nodded “Very restrained.”
“Thank you.”
I looked at Ryujin. She looked back at me. Her grin softened by a fraction “And despite my reputation, I know what Yeji is to him.” That surprised me. Ryujin did not look away “I’m not trying to take that”. The room quieted. Yeji’s expression shifted. Ryujin shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with her own sincerity “I like what I have with him. I want more of it. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Lia murmured.
“But I’m not confused,” Ryujin continued.
“I know the difference between wanting him and wanting to be her.”
Yuna’s eyes flicked to Yeji. Then to Ben. Then down. That one mattered to her too. Yeji looked at Ryujin for a long moment then nodded “Thank you.” Ryujin immediately leaned back “Great. I was emotionally mature for eleven seconds. Someone praise me.”
“No,” Lia said.
“Cruel.”
Yuna lifted her hand slightly “My turn?” The room looked at her. Yuna’s confidence did not vanish. But it changed shape “I don’t want to be outside anymore.” Her voice stayed steady “I don’t want to compete with Yeji unnie. I don’t want to pretend I only teased Ben because it was funny. And I don’t want everyone treating me like I tripped into this.” She glanced at me “I chose it”. Then at Yeji “And I know what I’m choosing around.”
Yeji’s gaze softened. Yuna swallowed once. “I’m okay with not being first.” The sentence landed quietly. Harder than expected “But I don’t want to feel like I’m hidden because I came later.” Nobody spoke. I felt that one in my chest. Because I knew exactly where it came from. Yeji reached across the island. Yuna looked at her hand and then took it “You’re not hidden,” Yeji said. Yuna’s smile shook for half a second. Then recovered “Good.”
Ryujin sniffed dramatically “That was almost wholesome.”
“It was wholesome,” Lia said.
“I know. I’m uncomfortable.”
Chaeryeong looked at them, then finally spoke “I don’t know where I stand yet.” Everyone turned to her. She looked uncomfortable with the attention, but she continued anyway. “I know things. I understand more than I probably should. But knowing is different from being ready.” That sentence held the entire room in place. Yeji nodded “You don’t have to be ready.” Chaeryeong looked relieved. Just a little.
My chest loosened. That had been the fear that this conversation would turn into momentum. That Chaeryeong would feel dragged forward just because everyone else had finally stopped hiding. Lia looked at her gently.
“You’re allowed to just know”
Chaeryeong nodded “Thank you.”
Ryujin leaned back, softer now.
“So Chaeryeong and Lia gets the observer status.”
Yuna brightened “With premium access.”
I looked at her “No.”
“What?”
“No premium access.”
Yuna smiled “Worth a try.”
Chaeryeong laughed. Quiet. Small. But real. That laugh did more for the room than any official rule could have. Then Lia spoke again “I’m not ready either.” The room shifted, this time toward her. Lia held her tea with both hands. Her gaze did not go to me immediately. It stayed on the cup “I care about Ben,” she said softly my breath slowed “I think everyone knows that by now.”
Yuna nodded carefully. Ryujin did not joke. Yeji watched Lia with quiet understanding. Lia’s fingers tightened around the cup “But I am still figuring out what kind of courage that requires from me.” That was Lia, a careful admission placed gently in the center of the table. Not denial nor was it surrender.
I wanted to say something. I did not. Not yet. This was hers. Yeji spoke for the room “That’s okay” Lia looked up. Yeji smiled faintly. “We’re not asking you to rush.” Lia’s shoulders eased “Thank you.” Ryujin looked around slowly “So, to summarize…”
“Absolutely not.” Lia said immediately.
Ryujin ignored her “Yeji is emotionally married. I am chaos with benefits. Yuna is newly promoted from live explosive to acknowledged live explosive. Chaeryeong has premium observer status. Lia is slow-burn royalty. Ben is overworked, underpaid, and apparently enjoys being leashed.”
The silence lasted one second. Then Yuna burst out laughing. Chaeryeong covered her mouth. Lia sighed like she hated that the summary was almost useful. Yeji turned bright red. I stared at Ryujin “I regret everything.”
“No you don’t.”
“I regret enough.”
Yeji squeezed my hand under the counter. Softly. A reminder. A warning. A comfort— all three, probably. The laughter faded slowly. And when it did, the room felt different… less dishonest. That was probably the best we could ask for.
Then Lia looked around the Top Floor. Her gaze moved from the kitchen to the lounge, to the hallway, to the windows overlooking the city “This place helps,” she said. Everyone followed her gaze “But it’s still attached to everything.” Yeji’s expression shifted “What do you mean?” Lia exhaled softly.
“The company still exists. We are still idols—”
“Dysfunctional Idols” Ryujin corrected.
“—Schedules are still on the phones. Staff can still call. Security can still report. We can rest here, but we’re not away.”
That landed. Because after Waterbomb, after JYP, after everything, she was right. The Top Floor had become a sanctuary, but also a pressure cooker. A beautifully expensive one, still a pressure cooker.
Yuna leaned back “So what? We run away?”
Ryujin smiled “I vote yes to running away and having a fantasy harem.”
Chaeryeong blinked “You always vote yes to running away.”
“I am consistent.” Ryujin pointed out.
Yeji looked at me. That was the problem. Everyone eventually looked at me. I stared into my coffee “No.” Ryujin frowned “What do you mean no? Who doesn’t want a personal harem?”
“I mean no, do not look at me like that.”
Yuna tilted her head “Like what?”
“Like I am supposed to solve this.”
Lia’s eyebrow lifted “You usually do.”
“That is not helping.”
Yeji squeezed my hand again “Ben.”
I looked at her. She was not teasing now. Neither was Lia. Neither was Chaeryeong. Even Yuna had gone quiet. Ryujin was watching me too, surprisingly serious. Yeji’s voice softened “Maybe this time you don’t solve it alone.”
That sat in my chest. Uncomfortably… I looked around the kitchen, at Yeji… Ryujin… Lia… Yuna… Chaeryeong. All of them tired in different ways. All of them pretending better than most people would ever notice. But I noticed and that was the whole problem. I noticed too much to ignore it. And not enough to fix it from inside the same walls. I exhaled slowly “We need out.”
Ryujin’s eyes lit up “Yes.”
I pointed at her “No, not like that. No harems.”
Her eyes dimmed “Cruel.”
I continued.
“Not away from each other. Away from the pressure.”
Lia looked at me carefully “A break?”
“A real one,” I said.
“No company building. No staff wandering nearby. No fans. No cameras. No pretending this floor is enough because it is expensive.”
Yuna’s expression changed first. Hope. Fast and bright before she could hide it. Chaeryeong looked uncertain. Yeji looked worried. Lia looked thoughtful. Ryujin looked like she was already packing mentally. I lifted one hand “I’m not saying we just disappear.”
“That is exactly what a rich person says before disappearing,” Lia said.
“She’s right,” Yuna added.
I ignored them.
“It would need cover. Proper cover. Something JYP can approve publicly. Something that doesn’t look like me kidnapping ITZY into a private resort.”
Ryujin tilted her head “Are you kidnapping us into a private resort?”
“No. Kidnapping would imply unwilling to go… and Ryujin is clearly willing to go.”
“Would snacks be provided?”
“Yes.”
“I consent.”
“Ryujin.”
“What? I’m helping.”
Chaeryeong’s voice came softer “A vacation?”
“Recovery leave,” I corrected.
Yuna smiled “That sounds like vacation said by someone afraid of HR.”
“It is vacation with paperwork.”
Yeji’s eyes narrowed slightly “Paperwork?”
I paused. A cold feeling went through me “No.”
Lia blinked “No what?”
“I just said paperwork.”
Ryujin stared “And?”
“And somewhere in Seoul, Park Jihyo probably felt a disturbance.”
Yeji covered her mouth. Yuna started laughing. Lia sighed “That is oddly believable.” I stood “I’m calling John.” Ryujin pointed at me “See? He is solving it.”
“I am delegating.”
“That is just solving it with extra steps.”
I walked toward the lounge before anyone could stop me. Unfortunately, everyone followed. Of course they did. I pulled out my phone and called John. He answered on the fourth ring. Which was suspicious “Why the fuck are you calling me this early?” John asked.
“No greeting? That’s no way to talk to your best buddy”
“You only call early when rich-person nonsense is about to happen.”
I looked at the phone. Then at the five women now gathered around me like a live studio audience.
“I need advice.” John went silent, then “Oh God.”
“Relax. No one is pregnant or dying.”
“No, that’s my shtick. When you sound like this, someone’s net worth gets involved.”
Ryujin whispered, “He knows you well.”
I ignored her “I need Jihyo on the phone.”
John went even more silent. Then his voice dropped “What did you do?”
“I did not do anything.” All five of the girls looked at me, I sighed.
“Recently.”
John groaned “Ben.”
“It’s about ITZY.”
That changed the air on the call. John’s voice sharpened “Are they okay?” I glanced back at them. Yeji’s face softened. Yuna looked down. Ryujin’s mouth tightened. Lia watched me carefully. Chaeryeong held herself still. “They’re functioning,” I said. John understood immediately. “That’s not what I asked.”
“No,” I said quietly. “It isn’t” the room went silent. John did not speak for a moment. Then his voice softened “I’ll get Jihyo.” There was muffled movement on the other end. A door opening. John saying something too quietly for us to catch. Then another voice entered the call. Calm. Alert. Dangerous “Ben?”
It was Jihyo.
I closed my eyes. Of course her voice alone made this feel like a meeting. “Sorry for calling suddenly.”
“No, you’re not.”
I opened my eyes. Ryujin mouthed, accurate. I waved her off. Jihyo continued “What happened?” I looked toward Yeji, then the others, then back out the window “Waterbomb happened,” I said. “Then everything after it happened. And now the Top Floor is starting to feel less like recovery and more like containment.”
Nobody spoke. Not in the room. Not on the phone. Jihyo understood too quickly. That was the problem with her, she always did “You want to take them somewhere.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“A week, at least.”
John coughed. Jihyo went silent. Ryujin’s eyes widened with delight. Yuna whispered, “A week?” Chaeryeong looked startled “At least?” Lia looked like she was already calculating the consequences. Yeji only watched me. Jihyo finally spoke “A week is not a break, Ben. A week is a scheduling incident.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
John muttered something in the background. It sounded like, “Here we go.” Jihyo ignored him “What exactly are you proposing?”
“A private recovery leave,” I said. “No cameras. No public resort. Controlled location. Full privacy. Medical access nearby. Security handled. Schedule disruption compensated. Staff covered. Company inconvenience handled.” Jihyo was quiet. Then she said “You have already calculated this.”
“Yes.” John sighed loudly “Of course he has!” Jihyo’s voice sharpened “And you are calling me because you know JYP will not approve this if it only comes from you.”
“Yes.”
“Good. At least you are self-aware.”
Ryujin whispered, “She’s scary.” Yeji whispered back, “Yes.” Jihyo continued “If this happens, it needs cover.”
“I know.”
“It cannot look like manager Sung Benjamin took ITZY away because he decided money solves emotional strain.” I looked down. The room went very still. Jihyo’s voice softened by one degree “I am not saying that is what you are doing.”
“I know.”
“But that is how it can look.”
“I know.”
She exhaled “Then it needs to be something else.” John’s voice came closer to the phone “A senior-junior wellness retreat” Jihyo paused. Then hummed “That could work.” I frowned “What?” John sounded smug now “TWICE and ITZY. Company-approved bonding. Recovery. Mentorship. Privacy. Very wholesome. Very public-friendly.” Ryujin’s mouth dropped open. Yuna’s eyes lit up like someone had handed her fireworks. Lia closed her eyes. Chaeryeong looked terrified and curious at the same time. Yeji slowly turned toward me. I did not like her expression. Jihyo spoke again, thoughtful now.
“If TWICE is involved, JYP has a cleaner reason to approve it.” I stared at the phone “Hold on.” John ignored me “And if Mina helps with location privacy, the rich-people problem becomes less obviously Ben-shaped.”
“Hold on,” I repeated. Jihyo’s tone shifted. Not quite amusement but close to it “Mina would be useful.” That was when I realized the conversation had escaped me. This was no longer my idea. This was a Jihyo operation. Which meant I had lost control approximately thirty seconds ago.
“Jihyo,” I said carefully. “Yes?”
“This was supposed to be advice.”
“And I am advising.”
“No, you are expanding.”
“Good advice expands when the original plan is insufficient.”
John laughed. I glared at the phone. Yuna whispered, “I like her.” Yeji nodded faintly “You would.” Jihyo continued “Also…” Something in her voice changed, a smile I could not see but definitely feel. My spine went cold “Well,” Jihyo said, “I guess this is the perfect time to cash in on your promise.” I froze “What promise?” John sighed through the phone “Oh no.” Jihyo’s smile was audible now “You said TWICE could visit the Top Floor.”
The room went very still. Ryujin slowly turned toward me. Yuna’s eyes lit up in pure, dangerous joy. Lia closed her eyes like she was already exhausted. Chaeryeong looked between all of us, deeply concerned. Yeji stared at me like she was calculating the exact moment I had doomed us. I swallowed “How many of you?” Jihyo laughed “All of us.” John added, “For the record, I tried to stop this.”
“No, you didn’t,” Jihyo said. “No, I didn’t.”
I stared out at the city. The Top Floor suddenly felt much smaller. Behind me, Ryujin whispered, “TWICE is coming here?” Yuna whispered back, “All of TWICE.” Lia murmured, “This is going to be a disaster.” Chaeryeong added “We have to buy a lot of food now.” Yeji only looked at me. Softly. Sympathetically. And I realized, far too late, that I had once again given Park Jihyo access to a door I should have kept locked. Jihyo’s voice came through the speaker again, bright and decisive.
“We’ll be there this afternoon.” The call ended. I lowered the phone slowly. No one spoke. Then Ryujin picked up her cereal box. “So,” she said, “do we clean, or do we prepare emotionally?” Lia looked around the room “Both.” Yuna smiled “I vote we hide embarrassing things.” Yeji looked at me “Ben.” I closed my eyes “Yes?”
“Be a good boy.” The room exploded. And somewhere in the middle of it, I realized this had barely solved anything and it had only opened the door. Literally.
Mina commanded you to do the initiative this time, as she's stuck in a busy schedule that prevents her to use you as much as she pleases, while still keeping her full control of you.
"LIVE AND LET LOOSE" [+18] | A TWICE Mina x Male Reader smut fanfic series
CHAPTER 3: "In The Palm Of Her Hands"
WORD COUNT: 3876
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Today was unlike any other, and it couldn't get any stranger since you're already immersed in surrealism.
This marks your first time arriving at work earlier than usual, an hour ahead of the typical schedule. You could say it’s because today is going to be incredibly busy, but Mina specifically called you for another reason: your second purpose on keeping her company.
She asked you to bring your breakfast and share it with her in the office, coming from a woman whose disdain would make it clear she actually desires solitude. However, you complied, especially after hearing that your punctuality would also earn you extra pay for the day.
Now, here you are at the office, with a freshly brewed coffee beside you that you made for both you and Mina. The sandwich on your plate has already been bitten into, as you chew while gazing at the bright sky outside the window.
You let out a soft sound while chewing, not just because the food is tasty, but also due to the pleasure building up in your senses at this moment.
Below, your pants are crumpled around your ankles. Mina is absent from her swivel chair, instead kneeling beside the head of the table, her knees pressed against the carpet. She’s enjoying her own breakfast while you eat, her mouth filled with your cock, which is in its usual impressive state every morning.
You reach for your sandwich, which proves to be a bit challenging as Mina’s head keeps bobbing between your legs. Just as you manage to grab your food, Mina pushes you back to lean in the chair, giving her more space to comfortably continue her blowjob.
You eat, feeling utterly satisfied. The food is indeed delicious, but the sensations are competing with the way Mina skillfully takes your length in and out of her warm mouth. She’s devouring you like a sausage.
YN: "M-Master, your speed… I might not be able to hold on much longer."
Instead of showing mercy, it only fuels Mina’s desire to extract more from you. She used her fists to work you as she sighed in pleasure from being released at your cock. You noticed her gulping and gritting her teeth, clearly invested in this activity.
After all, she enjoys seeing you so entranced, and this is merely the beginning.
YN: "M-master… I’m so close…"
MINA: "Don’t resist it. Let it all go, I’m ready for it."
Mina ran her tongue around your swollen head, intensifying the ticklish sensation that dangerously tempted you to surrender and obey her commands. As soon as your abdomen tightened and Mina pressed her face down to your base one last time, you released a torrent of your seed into her eager mouth.
To ease your exhaustion and anxiety, you covered your mouth with your sandwich to muffle your moans. Mina pulled your cock from her lips and drank your creamy cum just like that.
MINA: "Not too shabby for my first time enjoying a real protein as part of my daily morning routine," Mina smirked before grabbing a tissue to help clean your cock.
YN: "That felt amazing, boss."
MINA: "Of course it did. I’ve trained for this. And I appreciate how much you gave me. It makes me value you even more after what happened yesterday."
She noticed your cock slightly deflating now that the sexual encounter with your boss was coming to an end for a while. Satisfied, Mina stood up and went to get her own food, placing it on the desk.
Leaving you with your pants still undone, your cock now resting after Mina’s oral onslaught. As you cleaned your plates, you put your pants back on while Mina prepared to take her turn with you.
MINA: "Keep that momentum going, YN. Who knows where it might take you."
YN: "Yes, boss. Thank you for the guidance."
MINA: "Oh, you’re definitely going to need it. Because today, I’m about to discover just how much more you can handle."
You suddenly felt a wave of nervousness wash over you at her words, your smile gradually disappearing from your face.
MINA: "I called you here an hour early. I made you cum after almost 30 minutes. I suggest you use the remaining time to rest because I’ll have you moving around this while I attend my meetings. I don’t have free time to use you myself."
YN: "Ok, boss."
You nodded and slowly sank back into the soft cushion as Mina continued to focus on her food. She stole a few glances at your tranquil state, wishing she could appreciate the sight of you looking so untroubled even while awake.
After nearly three minutes into your duty, you left Mina’s room when your alarm went off. Mina was already busy with her work, not even acknowledging your departure. Upon returning to your position, you were taken aback by the number of files sent to you by various clients.
You quickly downloaded them and sent them to yourself so that Mina could see.
Hours later, your lower back and hands were trembling, starting to protest against the pressure you had been putting on yourself to keep up with the influx of emails from different clients.
Just in time, Jiyoung’s invitation to join her for lunch came as a welcome distraction. Before you could join her and indulge in a meal, a phone call interrupted your steps.
YN: "Dan? Hey, man. What’s up?"
DAN: "I’m all good, how about you?"
YN: "Heading for lunch break here at work."
DAN: "Oh, dang, I didn’t know you had a job now. Congrats, mate!"
YN: "Yeah, it was sudden. Anyway, what’s up?"
DAN: "Oh, well I’ll be quick, but I wanted to ask if you’re interested in coming to my birthday celebration this weekend?"
You hesitated, your mouth slightly open as you tried to respond, still a bit shocked that you had forgotten his birthday was approaching.
DAN: "I hope you’re free; the others told me they’d be there. It’s going to be fun."
YN: "I’ll… well, let me think. I can’t give a definite answer just yet, I mean… I have some big plans coming up."
You mentioned that the image of her, along with the deal and conditions she had set, lingered in your thoughts. These are the repercussions you must face in exchange for desperately holding onto this job that offers significantly better pay than any other available.
Even if it means becoming subservient to someone you previously mistreated, all in the name of forgiveness and hope.
DAN: "Alright, just give me a call once you've made your decision. Don’t you want to take a day to cool off?"
You chuckled, recognizing the truth in his words that you couldn’t ignore.
YN: "I do want it, it’s just that I’m not completely certain yet."
DAN: "I appreciate you considering it, YN! I’ll let you get back to your break now."
YN: "Sure, thanks to you too."
The call concluded. You exhaled deeply, pondering whether going there would be a wise choice or just another instance of disappointment like so many before. He does seem persuasive, though. They remember you. They have expectations. They made you feel like you—
JIYOUNG: "Hey, YN! You look like a statue over there. Come on, let’s grab a bite!"
YN: "Oh, uh... I’m on my way!"
Meanwhile, Mina finds herself alone in her office once more, engaged in her usual routine of observing the Seoul skyline, devoid of any curiosity about anything beyond that.
Her thoughts are consumed by the idea of you re-entering her chaotic life. It’s amusing how she constantly seeks freedom and tranquility, yet here she is, bracing for another storm on the long journey to achieve that.
Mina is restless, which is why she chose to subtly disrupt her image, hoping to prevent herself from feeling suffocated by the expectations and standards she must uphold to make her family proud.
She loves her mom and dad without a doubt, but it gets tiring to grant everything they want for her, to the point that she’s losing the rights to handle her own life, all to be masked with the same claims of “for her reputation as a Myoui and building a legacy of her own.” in the industry.
Returning to you, Mina despises how her desperation and eagerness made her appear almost as pathetic as you. Why does it have to be him?, she wonders. There could have been better men, but unfortunately, Mina just couldn’t recognize the standards she’s searching for among the many people introduced to her for potential collaboration .
She even considered hiring a woman to do her a favor, but sadly, they also lacked the necessary skills.
What does this imply, then? Are you truly the perfect one? Your character screams no, yet annoyingly, your cock suggests otherwise. If it weren’t for that thick meat that Mina craves at any time, after having long been fascinated by what a real man’s cock feels like to a lonely woman like her, she would have easily discarded you like trash.
But no, she still has to rely on you until she grows tired and seeks someone she can genuinely be with forever. For you, it’s merely a pastime to fill your leisure hours. Although she misses playing with her own dildo at home, now that she has experienced yours inside her, it has become somewhat difficult for her to resist.
A few hours later, she found herself in her third online meeting with a company that has been in partnership since her father was still running the business. Mina is doing her utmost to convey hospitality, but the ongoing dull business discussions are starting to drain her enthusiasm and energy for the day.
She must endure and survive this situation; otherwise, the company will face a loss, something her father never did before. But how exactly? That's when Mina quickly grabs her phone to send the signal. She then waits, still maintaining a forced smile for the old man who continues to drone on in a tedious manner.
The door to her office swung open, and you stepped inside. Mina simply gazed at you, and without a moment's hesitation, you locked the door and moved towards her desk.
MINA: "Get down there and keep me awake."
You nodded in a panic and cautiously approached her side, preparing to duck under her desk.
MINA: "I’m already unzipped; you can adjust my skirt."
YN: "O-okay..."
With gentle hands, you grasped the hem of her pencil skirt and lifted it until it was bunched around her waist. Your breath caught at the sight of her white panties peeking out from between her legs.
Mina spread her legs wider, granting you better access. You could now see a clearer view of her puffy lips outlined against the fabric.
MINA: "You know what to do."
You looked up at her, interpreting that as the cue to begin your service. You buried your face into her core, your nose brushing against her pussy, causing Mina to let out a soft mewl at the contact. The scent that enveloped you was delightful, lingering as if she had just stepped out of the bath, despite the hours that had passed since her arrival.
MINA: "Make sure to use your hands as well. Don’t leave my legs completely exposed while you do nothing."
Mina shifts her attention back to the monitor, striving to maintain her composure as the sensation of your hands gripping her thighs and lifting them to your shoulders sends shivers down her spine. She addressed the businessman, realizing how her voice could almost fail to mask the intense feelings stirring within her.
You massaged and glided your fingertips along Mina’s silky thighs, and with one final upward motion, you encountered her waistband. Mina could feel every hair on her body stand on end from the goosebumps you had ignited.
Seizing the waistband, you pulled it down as Mina adjusted herself, allowing you to remove her panties completely. Tossing them aside, she opened her legs once more, and to your astonishment, you were granted your first glimpse of Mina’s alluring pussy, which is to think at first, would be an impossible possibility to happen but here you are now as the luckiest bastard of them all.
Mina tensed as she noticed your awestruck gaze fixed on her core, and to your surprise, you saw her begin to release some fluids, forming a puddle on the chair. Not wanting to let any of it go to waste, you lifted her legs back onto your shoulders and pressed your face against her bare cunt once more.
She gasped as your tongue began to explore her wet slit. Mina bit her lip as you lapped at her folds, back and forth.
The businessman keeps showcasing his products and the contributions he anticipates from the company, believing that the CEO is fully attentive. However, Mina's thoughts and feelings tell a different story, overwhelmed by the pleasure of your mouth on her pussy, relishing this first-time experience that is truly worth it.
MINA: "Damn, that mouth is seriously making me so wet. Push it in deeper, yes… nghhh just like that. Right in the spot."
Her fist grips your hair as she urges your face closer, her hips beginning to rock in sync with the rhythm. The older man on the call inquires if Mina is okay, noticing her struggle to remain steady in her seat. She simply replies yes, and they continue.
You slurped at her clit while your fingers began to play a crucial role in stimulating her vaginal walls. Mina could no longer suppress her moans. Luckily, she was on mute because she didn’t want her business partner to hear her being such a noisy mess at the moment.
Her legs wrapped tightly around your head, trying to smother you between her thighs. As she grew more aggressive, you quickened your fingers, wiggling through her folds, causing Mina to slide down a bit in her seat from the surprise.
MINA: "Shit… shit… I’m about to cum! How is that mouth so damn good at eating pussy, fuck!"
With rapid, passionate licks and slurps, the tip of your tongue spread saliva all over her sticky petals, allowing her to finally release the enticing orgasm that had built up from your oral skills. Mina nearly rolled her eyes back, gasping as the intensity of her fluids splashed across your mouth and face, leaving you feeling completely drenched.
The businessman inquired once more if Mina was okay, to which she replied affirmatively without providing further explanation. As the meeting concluded, Mina took a moment to catch her breath before rising from her seat.
MINA: "I have another meeting scheduled, so I’ll turn off my camera. You can have your way with me here in the chair, but I need you to be quick since I can’t remain unseen for too long."
She knelt down and unfastened your pants, leaving you nearly half-naked alongside her. Mina was initially concerned about needing to awaken your cock to its full size, but she was pleasantly surprised by how quickly it responded to her allure, boosting her confidence in the situation.
As she instructed you to sit in the chair, Mina utilized her laptop to generate a meeting link for another client. To your astonishment, her body was bent in front of you, giving a VIP seat to admire her ass that is large, ample, and perfectly rounded, drawing your gaze with an insatiable desire.
You noticed how her outfit highlighted her feminine curves, but you had never truly appreciated how enticing her rear appeared until now. While she busily typed on the keyboard, Mina was startled when she felt your hands on her backside, squeezing it and relishing its firmness.
She then smirked, sensing your growing interest in her rear, which was not uncommon to her. She had received numerous compliments about how her backside accentuated her allure, after all.
MINA: "Do you like it?"
YN: "Absolutely, boss. They’re... just perfect." You replied while continuing to squish them, feeling the skin almost melting between your fingers.
MINA: "Mmm, I love how you handle my ass. Do you want to use it often?"
YN: "I-I would be crazy to say no, boss."
MINA: "At least you understand. But save that for next time, remember what I mentioned yesterday? We’re going to concentrate more on testing how that can fill me up. It was supposed to be on my pussy, but I guess my ass will do for now. You better earn the privilege first."
You felt a twinge of disappointment that you wouldn’t get to play with her ass more today, but inserting yourself into those buns isn’t a bad alternative. As Mina activated the meeting link, she squatted over your lap. You adjusted your cock to aim directly at her hole.
Mina then sank down effortlessly onto your impressive size, letting out whines and moans as her rectum stretched around your girth. You carefully guided Mina to have her ass meet your base.
YN: "A-are you alright, boss?"
Mina didn’t expect you to check on her.
MINA: "I... yeah, oh my God, that cock is no joke. I’ve never been stretched like this, not even my dildo could do it."
Mina closed her eyes as she finally managed to take your cock deep inside her anus. She gripped the armrest for support, remaining like that for a moment to adjust to your size.
Her next clients entered the meeting room, and Mina began to speak. Your reaction was too late; you accidentally thrust inside her, earning a suspicious moan from Mina just as she was about to greet them.
She quickly muted herself and shot you a sharp look.
MINA: "What the hell did I just say?"
YN: "I-I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were going to speak to them."
MINA: "They could’ve caught me there, you idiot!" She raised her voice. Frustrated, her mood shifted instantly. Now, she could only view this fuckbuddy of hers as someone she truly loathed.
MINA: "Forget your excuses. You should’ve been paying attention. You nearly got me in trouble. Now, I expect you to finish inside me quickly, or else you’ll be leaving this office without your pants."
YN: "Mina, wait, I’m sorry—"
Mina harshly bounced on your lap, causing you to groan in pain from the impact on your pelvis.
MINA: "What did I say about how to address me?"
YN: "Boss, I apologize. I should’ve known better."
MINA: "You will, because I’m going to teach you a lesson this time, and you’ll swear you won’t do it again."
She then aggressively bounced on your lap, her tight ring enveloping your shaft, creating intense pressure as she stroked every inch of you. She didn’t even glance at your wincing face. Instead, she remained focused on the meeting, listening casually as if she wasn’t making someone suffer in the depths of her backdoor.
YN: "B-boss… slow down, please!"
MINA: "You should’ve done that when I wasn’t ready a few minutes ago!"
Mina used her feet to tiptoe, giving herself leverage for her bounces against your cock. Her control over her movements was expertly executed; she managed to muffle the skin-slapping sounds every time she opened the mic while still pumping your cock with her ass.
You were left sitting there like a ragdoll, an absolute fucktoy as she said she’d treat you on her chair. The chorus of your and Mina’s grunts and moans, along with the lewd fapping sounds, echoed throughout the room.
You wished you could slap her ass at least, but the way her ass rippled as you pounded her upwards was satisfying enough to keep you entertained. It was then that you became stunned at what Mina did afterwards.
MINA: "Just let it all out already! You can't hold back on me now, YN. I’ll make you cum in just 2 minutes like I want to, but since you want to test my patience, I’ll fucking show you.”
And she was not the kind of woman you’d want to challenge.
Mina showcased her special talent when it comes to anal sex, with only her dildo as a witness to this. Little did you know, the honor of experiencing this within you is entirely justified.
She worked that ass like a pro, twerking on your lap with your cock now slightly angled to slide smoothly against her hole, the way she tossed her rear like a basketball. The rapid rhythm of her ass stroking you, combined with the tightness of her insides and the stunning view of her alluring back during sex, Mina accomplished exactly what she predicted she would.
Your cum erupted inside her ass, and Mina’s astonished reaction captured the overwhelming sensation that washed over her. This is precisely what she always loved to experience, a thick load of sperm filling her plump ass like a cake stuffed with frosting, something her dildo could never achieve due to its silicone nature.
MINA: “Uh yeah… mhmm would you look at that mess you did on me.”
Mina squirmed and bit her lips enticingly as she took her time lifting her hips to pull your now sticky cock out after your orgasm. She stood up from her seat; if only her camera were on, her client would have a perfect view of her clean-shaven pussy.
However, nothing compares to the intimate view of witnessing her asscheeks, slightly flushed from the repeated impacts as they pressed against your lap, while the space between them allows your cum to gradually seep out, overflowing from her well-used hole.
Mina eagerly scooped up some of your cum that was trailing down her thighs, wanting to savor every drop and ensure nothing went to waste.
MINA: "Help me get my panties back."
She commanded. You retrieved the underwear from beneath the desk and handed it to her, watching as she slipped it back on, keeping your cum snugly in place on her backside. You took a moment to clean your cock with the tissue from her desk while Mina adjusted herself back into her seat after putting on her skirt again.
MINA: "You can return to your station now, but remember to check in with me before you head home."
YN: "Understood, boss."
You exited her office, once again astonished by the events that unfolded today in what had transformed into a private sex room. It feels like each day brings new opportunities to discover more of Mina’s body and the wild sexual fantasies she has always harbored.
Mina redirected her attention to the meeting, now fully energized after the playful interlude with you. The truth is, she didn’t feel even a hint of fear when you began to pleasure her without any prior signal.
In fact, it turned her more, driving her to want that cock ramming deep into her ass to see just how much long you can endure.
MINA: "What a sad excuse for a loser he has turned into."
She derisively taunts you for being frightened so easily earlier.
Mina reconsidered; ultimately, it was the best choice to have you as her plaything. The thought thrills her, realizing the extent of control she holds over you, right in the palm of her hands.
============== END OF CHAPTER 3 ==================
Nayeon and Sana arrives at the location point where the distress signal has lead them to, only to discover that it is more just another typical crime scene.
???: “I really appreciate lending your time today for this. You must’ve been busy, running onto some errands but here you are.”
She clasped her hands, her elbows supporting on the table. She flashed a soft smile on the woman in front of her.
YERI: “Don’t mind it, Director Im. I’m just enjoying my free time today since I don’t have much projects ongoing so far. A short personal meeting won’t hurt… but I suppose this also meand that I have to really make my leisure time worth it considering you and I are about to talk about…
DIRECTOR IM: “Yes, I’ll go straight to the point now since both of us are aware now of the agenda. I want to ask if you are willing to star on my upcoming film?”
YERI: “I’m all ears.”
Director Im spun her laptop around and shown the actress some details about the upcoming project she was tasked to handle.
DIRECTOR IM: “As you can see, this film is going to be more on horror, but with psychological touch in it. Me and my casting team have decided that you are one of the leading candidates for us to pick for the role as we believe that you can make the character resemble with your exceptional acting skills.”
YERI: “Oh, please. I’m flattered.”
Nayeon laughed and blushed at her sudden compliment.
YERI: “This one looks promising. So it’s an adaptation, huh?”
DIRECTOR: “Yes. You will be required to read the source material to help you be guided on exploring everything about the character and what you’re going to expect on the plot.”
YERI: “This can be a challenge for me, but it’s not that it sounds bad to me. Actually, from the synopsis so far and the genre, I can tell this is worth an attempt for me.”
Director Im grinned at the response. The other woman she’s with, who has been sitting on the table just beside them, heard the conversation. Her head turned on the two women conversing and her eyes brightened at what she heard.
YERI: “... since well, not only it’s my first time doing an adaptation but also to act in a horror film.”
DIRECTOR IM: “So, I take it as a yes?”
YERI: “I’m in.”
Director Im clapped and grinned in delight at the good news.
DIRECTOR IM: “Can I request trading contacts so that I can send you the script nce it’s done and for you know, future updates on the pre-production.”
YERI: “Sure, one sec.”
Few minutes later, Director Im and Yeri stood up and exchanged handshakes and grateful bows to each other.
DIRECTOR IM: “Oh, uhm… before you go, my friend here…”
The woman in glasses sporting wavy orange hair and wearing casual polo and leggings minding her business on her laptop and a cup of iced macchiato was taken aback when she heard her friend and saw her hand pointing at her.
DIRECTOR IM: “... is a fan of yours. She has seen some of your dramas and she thought that you are a great actress. She learned that I was going to meet you today so… she came along.”
The woman in glasses gasped and looked at Yeri who has her eyes now on her. She covered her mouth, feeling embarassed by her friend.
YERI: “I didn’t expect that I will have a fan of mine to notice me here.”
She laughed at Nayeon and especially to the shy friend of hers who wants to bury herself already at the cushion of her seat.
YERI: “Well, hello there. Thank you for supporting me.”
She waved her hand at her. Noticing that she already initiated the interaction, she didn’t want to leave her hanging and so she came out from her hiding.
???: “H-Hi, you’re welcome.”
Director Im laughed at her friend’s melting state.
DIRECTOR IM: “Oh uhm, Yeri this is Sana.”
She waved again at Sana and she sheepishly responded.
After the meeting as Director Im watched Yeri walk away, Sana nudged her hard on the arm with a pouting expression.
SANA: “What was that?!”
DIRECTOR IM: “What do you mean?”
SANA: “You could’ve alerted me there. Nayeon!”
DIRECTOR IM: “But you have got to talk her, so you’re welcome!”
SANA: “And yet it was too sudden.”
The director, whose name is Nayeon; laughed at the grumpy mood of her friend.
SANA: “Ugh, I’m so unlucky today. I didn’t even reminded myself I will be the teasing victim by you because I tagged along.”
NAYEON: “I’m sorry, okay? There, I won’t do it again.”
SANA: “Promise?”
NAYEON: “Tell me one thing you want and I’ll buy it for you. That’s how sincere my promise is.”
SANA: “Okay! Deal!”
Nayeon just shook her head in amusement at this bubbly friend she’s with.
SANA: “But also, thank you for helping me to meet her. She’s so kind and very different from the characters she plays in dramas.”
NAYEON: “That’s acting for you, but yeah I agree. I thought she would decline my-”
Nayeon paused as their conversation got interrupted when some bystanders created a noise. It then got added with the sound of grunts and yelling from the men which is the source of the attention.
Nayeon and Sana eavesdropped as they watched how this young guy effortlessly throwing these thugs away from him. They both became interested to observe him more when they thought it’s completely impossible to fight 4 buff men all by himself, especially when he’s just disposing them off like trash.
NAYEON: “You’re getting this, Sana?”
SANA: “Yeah, something seems off.”
As the fight ended, the young guy who impressively defeated and defended himself from the danger around him was caught by some securities from the nearby bar. He then sprinted away as they attempted to get near him.
Nayeon and Sana noticed how the guy just easily disappears from the view in just few steps.
NAYEON: “I’ll go grab the car.”
They drived off and managed to catch the guy who is now walking casually on the sidewalk. They secretly watch him until he finally gets into his place. Nayeon and Sana looked at each other.
SANA: “Could this be?”
NAYEON: “Highly likely, but we’ll find it out ourselves.”
SANA: “If that so then… that’s strange.”
NAYEON: “Yup, and that’s why we have to tell this also to the others.”
END OF FLASHBACK
Back to the present day, Nayeon and Sana drive off once again onto the said location where their leader told them to.
SANA: “Do you think he’ll consider it?”
NAYEON: “I don’t know honestly. He’s skeptical at us and I don’t mind him. But I hope he does. We’ll just try to keep an eye on him if he doesn’t We’ll give him within this week to make up his mind.”
As they getting nearer to the destination, they saw a bunch of policemen and some soldiers gathered in front of a subdivision territory.
SANA: “This one seems serious.”
NAYEON: “Let’s find out what happened here. Get ready.”
They grabbed their suits and wore them. They left their car and approached the policemen who are guarding the media who were now attracted on reporting the current situation right now.
NAYEON: “Sir, may we know what’s going on?”
CAPTAIN: “Oh! The Nation’s Protectors, I’m relieved you two are here. But… where are the others?”
SANA: “Our apologies, They’re currently busy at the moment, sir. Why did you ask?”
CAPTAIN: “Well, I just thought that maybe you two would need some additional back-ups. I mean there’s us but, right now someone has to put control here outside.”
NAYEON: “We’ll definitely appreciate the details before we take action.”
CAPTAIN: “Right, it’s a hostage incideng we’re having right now.”
Nayeon and Sana looked at each other.
CAPTAIN: “... and they are caused by some prisoners who got out of the transport service while they’re being moved. The cause is still being investigated but so far, they came here and terrorized this place for unknown reason. The families are there, gathered and like I said hostaged while those prisoners probably stealing their stuff.”
SANA: “We’ll take it from here, sir.”
CAPTAIN: “Okay, but be careful, some of our men are already hurt. From what we learned, it’s not the prisoners who did it.”
NAYEON: “What do you mean?”
CAPTAIN: “Well, the reason why I asked you two where are the rest is because there must be some superpowered being there who’s commanding these prisoners. And, I’m just concerned at what it might gonna be if you two encounter whoever this is.”
Nayeon and Sana looked again in confusion.
NAYEON: “Thanks for the heads up, captain.”
CAPTAIN: “Alright, be careful.”
Nayeon and Sana entered the subdivision with ease using their superpowers, levitating through the walls. They sneaked onto one of the houses and saw some prisoners enjoying the fridge and collecting stuffs. The captain was right.
NAYEON: “Alright, so we take out these goons first before we find out who’s this mystery person?”
SANA: “What if they got alarmed and harm the residents with no hesitation?”
NAYEON: “I don’t know, but this is the only way I can think of so far. We can’t find them and increase the chance of those people to be saved if we take them out one by one also.
SANA: “So your plan is we eliminate them first?”
NAYEON: “Yes, but no one must found out.”
SANA: “Okay then, here goes nothing.”
As the prisoner eat satisfyingly on the table, his head suddenly got smashed onto the woddened surface, scaring the guy who was putting the stuffs neatly on their bags.
PRISONER: “W-who’s there?!”
Nayeon then jumped from the staircase at the guy, wrapped her thighs around his head and flipped so that the guy goes crashing on the floor. She smacked the lights out of the man as Sana whose body returns from being visible, watched her partner take out an enemy.
NAYEON: “Two down. The officers must get informed about our plan. We still need help here.”
SANA: “I’ll do it.”
Sana disappears again and passes through the wall back to meet the captain again where she told him that they’ll be needing a sneak invasion as they distract the bad guys inside. He copied that and Sana returns to join Nayeon.
Nayeon and Sana continues to take out every prisoner they spot with their powers. Meanwhile, one of the lead culprits got informed by the prisoner who went dashing across after finding out that some were knocked out inside the houses.
???: “Finally.”
She said with a smirk, which then joined by her own partner for today’s crime.
After Nayeon and Sana silenced another prisoner by getting choked mid-air and had him forcefully pull down to the ground with a force field, they searched through the streets and noticed a group of people sitting, looking afraid, crying, and silent.
NAYEON: “It’s them.”
SANA: “Those must be the one’s behind this.”
She referred to the two women standing in front of the crowd as some prisoners guard the hostages.
NAYEON: “Should we attack or confront?”
SANA: “It’s better we just confront them, they might get alerted and might do cruel on them if we suddenly charge.”
NAYEON: “But they don’t want anybody to appear here. They’re taking out the soldiers who dare to enter.”
SANA: “Then what do we do?”
Nayeon went silent, a bit stressed out in this situation. She shook her head as she glance at the poor victims there.
NAYEON: “Screw this, we do both. Use your advantage against those who are uncapable.”
Meanwhile, the two wanted criminals wearing all black attire in cargo pants and long sleeve tight spandex patiently waits for their arrival. They then noticed the shadows of the prisoners with her and the shocked noises of the hostages.
Looking above, they saw the prisoners floating in the air with some visible force fields. Nayeon then suddenly appeared behind them, crashing through the ground with massive impact that created some slight cracks. Sana also became visible, and is now seen to be responsible for making the others suspended above.
NAYEON: “Don’t dare to attempt any stupid move. Surrender and let these innocent people go.”
The two criminals looked at her with a smug expression on their faces. Sana then swayed her arms, throwing all the prisoners aside and send them crashing to the ground, preparing herself to aid Nayeon in case.
???: “Don’t worry, we don’t care about them”
The male criminal spoke up first, glancing at the scared residents for a while.
???: “We have been waiting for you two.”
NAYEON: “Then what is this? What’s the purpose of having them getting involved?!”
???: “A bait.”
???: “Now that you two have showed up. It only ends here, when we finish what we’re told to do.”
Nayeon furrowed her eyebrows at that statement.
???: “Let’s leave it at luck to see if they get saved or not… by coming through us first.”
NAYEON: “Sana, let’s get them!”
The two immediately lunged with their gravity-defying abilities through them, forming their arm and first for a powerful blow.
However, Nayeon and Sana’s faces shifted from aggression to disbelief.
Nayeon’s fist was blocked by the man, while the other blasted a light beam at Sana, sending her crashing through the window of a house.
╰┈➤ individual case files for the nine keter - class entities.
╰┈➤ nine cells stand empty at site-tw1ce, and for the first time, the foundation is genuinely afraid. we spent years trying to lock them down, but you can’t cage something that’s already rewritten the locks.
╰┈➤ a/n: i had this idea while i was trying to sleep (days ago) .. started writing from my google docs while writing the past few fics (breaking point, steal your heart, nd off the rec), i gen love both scp and twice so why not combine them..
scp-009-ny
object class: keter
threat level: ● black (existential threat)
special containment procedures:
entity is to be housed in a soundproofed, vacuum-sealed reinforced chamber at site-09. all personnel assigned to the vocal guard must be surgically deafened or equipped with high-grade active-noise-canceling implants. communication is strictly reztricted to text-based interfaces or sign language. under no circumstances is any recording device capable of capturing frequencies above 20hz allowed in the chamber.
do nots:
DO NOT enter the containment zone without verifying the functionality of your active noise-canceling (anc) implants. if you hear so much as a stray intake of breath, you are already under her command.
DO NOT allow any rhythmic tapping or repetitive noises (like a ticking clock) near her cell. she can use these as a metronome to anchor her vocal frequency, allowing her to override reality even with a whisper.
DO NOT speak to her directly. nayeon’s power is a vocal imperative—if she responds to you with a melodic tone, your body will prioritize her voice over your own brain's signals, potentially forcing you to stop your own vital functions on her whim.
DO NOT bring any recording or broadcasting equipment into the wing. if her voice is uploaded to the site-wide intercom, the entire facility becomes a puppet theater, and the foundation will be forced to initiate a localized purge.
description:
scp-009-ny manifests as a human female of exceptional charismatic influence. her primary anomalous effect is absolute vocal imperative, a high-level auditory cognitohazard. when the entity hums, sings, or vocalizes with melodic intent, all sapient beings within a variable radius lose total autonomy. unlike mere mind control victims remain fully aware—trapped inside their own bodies as their nervous systems are hijacked to execute the entity's lyrics with terrifying physical precision.
incident report: log ny-09
date: [redacted]
location: foundation containment site-██
subject: accidental auditory leak during standard maintenance.
09:12: maintenance crew enters the outer airlock for routine filter replacement. due to a mechanical failure in the secondary sound-dampening seal, a localized vibration leak occurs.
09:14: scp-009-ny is observed humming a tune later identified as a distorted version of "pop!".
09:15: the three maintenance workers immediately cease their tasks. security footage shows their eyes widening in distress, though their facial muscles are forced into a rigid, euphoric smile.
09:18: nayeon sings a short phrase: "stay until the end."
09:20: the workers begin to dismantle their own protective suits using their bare hands. despite visible bone fractures from the force required, they continue the performance dictated by her rhythm.
09:30: site-wide lockdown is initiated. responding tactical teams are forced to use non-lethal flashbangs to temporarily disrupt the auditory feed.
09:45: entity is successfully sedated via automated aerosolized tranquilizer.
aftermath: all three maintenance workers suffered permanent motor-cortex damage and are currently in catatonic states. analysis of the recording shows that the victims' heartbeats had synchronized perfectly to scp-009-ny's tempo before the feed was cut.
────────
scp-00-jy
object class: keter
threat level: ● black (existential threat)
special containment procedures:
scp-00-jy must be housed in a triple-layered "void cell" deep within site-01. the chamber walls are constructed of high-density synthetic obsidian, which is non-porous and resistant to conceptual erasure. cleaning is performed exclusively by bleached, data-purged drones. if a drone is smudged, it must be incinerated before the entity perceives it.
do nots
DO NOT enter the containment wing with any unsterilized organic material (this includes hair, skin flakes, or food crumbs). any impurity detected will cause her to begin a "global bleach" pulse.
DO NOT use complex terminology or messy data formats near her cell. she views digital clutter as a stain and will attempt to sanitize the facility’s servers.
DO NOT attempt to comfort her. any physical touch from a biological being is perceived as a contamination event, leading to the immediate molecular erasure of the offender.
DO NOT allow the cell’s internal temperature to rise. heat is a form of kinetic chaos, if the cell warms, her erasure field expands to cool reality into a static, white void.
description:
scp-00-jy manifests as a calm human female with a pathological, anomalous obsession with absolute sterility. her primary ability is the molecular erasure field. jeongyeon does not move filth—she deletes it.
her definition of filthy is broad and extremely dangerous: it includes all biological life (which she views as messy organic growth), chaotic energy, and even non-linear thought. anything she deems an imperfection is scrubbed from the local reality, replaced by a smooth, white, non-reactive matter designated as scp-00-jy.
incident report: log jy-00
date: [redacted]
location: classified foundation site
subject: breach caused by a single stray hair on a researcher’s lab coat.
11:15: a level 3 researcher entered the observation deck. Aasingle strand of hair fell from their coat into the primary airlock.
11:16: scp-00-jy immediately locked eyes with the strand. Her pupils dilated, and the air around her began to hum with static erasure.
11:18: jeongyeon touched the floor. a wave of brilliant white light erupted. as it hit the researcher, they were not killed, instead, they were sanitized. their clothes, skin, and memories were deleted and replaced by a featureless, white porcelain statue.
11:25: the wave spread to the site’s server room. entire databases of foundation secrets were "cleaned" into nothingness.
11:40: containment was only restored when the foundation used scp-37-mi (mina) to manifest an abyss of silence around jeongyeon, cutting off her ability to perceive the mess of the outside world.
aftermath: site-██ is now a white zone. it is a perfectly sterile, odorless, and silent block of white matter where no life can ever exist again. the 45 lost staff members are considered conceptually deleted.
────────
scp-064-mm
object class: keter
threat level: ● black (existential threat)
special containment procedures:
scp-64-mm is contained within a high-density, vacuum-sealed kinetic damping chamber at site-61. the chamber floors and walls are mounted on massive hydraulic shock absorbers designed to dissipate seismic energy. due to her infinite etamina, the entity requires high caloric intake, which is delivered via automated, bleached conduits to avoid human contact
do nots:
DO NOT play any rhythmic sounds, music, or repetitive beats within 500 meters of her chamber. her body will instinctively synchronize with the tempo, generating destructive seismic shockwaves.
DO NOT approach her without high-gravity boots. her kinetic transfer is so absolute that simply standing near her can cause your own internal organs to vibrate at lethal frequencies.
DO NOT attempt to restrain her physically. any force applied to her body is instantly absorbed and reflected back with 100% efficiency, likely resulting in the total structural failure of the containment wing.
DO NOT allow her to reach a performance state. if she completes a full sequence of movements, she could inadvertently trigger a continental fracture event
description:
scp-64-mm manifests as a stoic human female possessing infinite kinetic stamina. the entity is a living physical engine that generates energy the more she moves. unlike a normal person, her muscles do not fatigue, they become more efficient and "hotter" as she performs.
the danger lies in her resonant choreography. when she moves rhythmically, she rewrites the kinetic laws of her surroundings. at keter level, her movements synchronize with the atomic vibration of matter. if she reaches a perfect tempo, she can cause all solid objects in a 10-mile radius to lose their molecular bond and disintegrate into dust. she is effectively a living earthquake that never runs out of power.
incident report: log scp-064-mm
date: [redacted]
location: site-04 deep containment
subject: high-tempo breach.
21:05: scp-064-mo begins a sequence of rapid, precise movements later identified as a high-intensity dance break.
21:07: the floor of the containment cell begins to glow cherry-red. the kinetic dwmping system is overloaded by a sudden spike of 4.5 gigajoules of energy.
21:10: the fracture: every glass surface within site-04 shatters simultaneously as the entity’s movements hit a specific harmonic frequency.
21:12: a security team attempts to enter the outer airlock. the shockwave from her simply shifting her weight causes the air in the hallway to compress and detonate, killing the team instantly.
21:15: the earthquake produced by her movements begins to crack the bedrock of the entire facility.
21:20: containment is only re-established when scp-00-jy (jeongyeon) arrives and deletes the kinetic energy of the room, scrubbing the momentum from the entity’s body and leaving her suspended in a white, sterile stasis.
aftermath: site-61 remains under seosmic repair. it was determined that had the entity continued her performance for another 60 seconds, the resulting shockwave would have leveled the nearest metropolitan area.
END OF UNNIE LINE
──────────────────────
scp-12-sn
object class: keter
threat level: ● black (existential threat)
special containment procedures:
scp-12-sn is to be contained in a sensory-isolated "dark cell" at site-034. the chamber is equipped with a zero-visual interface (zvi) system. no cameras, glass windows, or reflective surfaces are permitted. if visual or auditory contact is accidentally established, the affected personnel must be immediately terminated to prevent the plague from spreading to the rest of the site.
do nots:
DO NOT look at the entity's face, silhouette, or even her shadow. her visual symmetry is a high-level memetic virus; once seen, the image will infect your mind, and you will become a mindless carrier of the affection plague.
DO NOT attempt to rescue or help her. the entity often utilizes a clumsy or vulnerable demeanor to trigger a protective instinct in personnel. this is a predatory camouflage designed to break containment.
DO NOT use any cameras or reflective surfaces within the containment wing. if her image is captured, the digital file itself becomes a keter-class hazard that can infect anyone who views the thumbnail.
DO NOT allow any infected personnel (scp-12-sn-1) to speak to you. they will attempt to describe her charms to you—this is a linguistic vector that can trigger a secondary infection in your brain's empathy centers.
description:
scp-12-sn manifests as a optimistix human female possessing a global psychotropic virus. she is a living affection hazard. her primary ability is the empathic override, anyone who perceives her—via sight, sound, or even a digital image, enters a state of total, obsessive adoration.
this is not simple fame. it is a biological takeover. victims, referred to as scp-12-sn-1, lose all survival instincts, moral compasses, and loyalties. their only objective becomes approaching and pleasing the entity. the danger is its viral nature: an infected person becomes a carrier, emitting a diluted version of the hazard that compels others to find and serve sana. she is a hive-growth scenario so if she were to be broadcast globally, the human race would stop all functioning, literally starving to death while smiling and reaching for her.
incident report: log scp-12-sn
date: [redacted]
location: site-12 high-security observatipn deck
subject: breach due to a clumsy interaction with a containment drone.
1:40: a maintenance drone, due to a software glitch, accidentally opened the visual shutter for 0.4 seconds.
1:41: the level 4 researcher in the control room saw the entity through the monitor. he immediately disabled the site's alarm systems to let her out of that dark, lonely room.
1:45: the researcher contacted the security team. over the radio, he didn't report a breach but he spoke of her clumsiness and cuteness. within minutes, the entire security floor was compromised.
1:50: the infected guards began to hunt down uninfected staff, forcing them to look at the entity's image on their tablets to see the truth.
2:05: a mob of over 200 personnel gathered at her cell door, physically clawing at the reinforced steel with their bare hands until their fingernails were gone, desperate to "protect" her.
2:20: automated site-defense systems, detecting the cognitive collapse of the entire wing, deployed high-concentration aerosolized class-a amnestics and neuro-inhibitors. the gas forced the infected mob into immediate, forced comas, severing their visual connection to the entity's presence and allowing the secondary blast doors to seal the entity back into the darkness.
aftermath: all 220+ personnel were found to have permanent neural rewiring. they can no longer recognize their families or themselves as they only respond to the name "sana."
────────
scp-21-jh
object class: keter
threat level: ● red (severe hazard)
special containment procedures:
scp-21-jh is to be contained within a radio-frequency (rf) zilent bunker buried 500 meters underground at site 21. the bunker must be lined with a specialized lead-gold alloy to prevent any electromagnetic or psionic leakage. any personnel entering the iner sanctum must wear high-density acoustic dampening helmets. all communication with the entity is restricted to a tactile braille interface or a heavily filtered text terminal.
do nots:
DO NOT allow the entity to hum or sing under any circumstances. even a low-volume melody can bypass standard earplugs via bone conduction, infecting anyone in the room.
DO NOT address her as a leader or "god." the entity’s hive mind is fueled by external recognition, acknowledging her authority strengthens the reach of her signal.
DO NOT permit her access to any telecommunications equipment. if she gains control of a single microphone connected to the web, the "chorus" will go global.
DO NOT allow more than one person in her chamber at a time. multiple people create a resonant loop, allowing her to jump from mind to mind and amplify her signal strength.
description:
scp-21-jh manifests as a muscular human female possessing global emmpathic resonance. she functions as the central mother-node of a biological hive mind. her voice is not merely sound, it is a carrier signal for her consciousness.
anyone who hears her whether it's live, recorded, or even through a distorted broadcast undergoes a total ego dissolution. rheir individual thoughts, memories, and desires are instantly overwritten by jihyo's iron-willed personality. the affected individuals (designated scp-21-jh-1) do not become puppets.. they become her. they move with her leadership, think with her strategic mind, and will sacrifice themselves without hesitation to expand her "chorus."
incident report: log scp-21-jh
date: [redacted]
location: site-05 communications hub / sublevel 5
subject: resonance leak during a scheduled backup generator test.
10:02: aminor power surge causes a momentary lapse in the high-power white-noise generators surrounding scp-21-jh's bunker. the silence shield drops for precisely 1.5 seconds.
10:03: scp-21-jh, sensing the opening, vocalizes a sustained, high-decibel note. the frequency is specifically tuned to travel through the facility’s ventilation shafts.
10:05: the note is picked up by the microphone of a security guard's walkie-talkie. the signal is instantly patched into the site-05 internal comms network.
10:08: every person in the security wing stops what they are doing. there is no panic. instead, 50 guards simultaneously turn toward the nearest camera and speak in perfect unison: "we are lead by the light."
10:12: the hive mind begins to spread. the infected personnel move with frightening coordination, systematically disabling the site's manual overrides to allow the signal to reach the external satellite uplink. they no longer act as individuals. they act as a single, multi-bodied strategic entity.
10:20: before the signal can reach the global broadcast array, site command activates the acoustic scorch protocol. high-intensity sonic bursts are blasted through every speaker in the facility, physically destroying the eardrums of every person on-site.
aftermath: researchers discovered that the entity's signal has left a trace in the local atmosphere. the air itself in the containment wing vibrates at a frequency that matches her resting pulse. personnel are now required to wear vibrating collars that oscillate at an opposing frequency to prevent their heartbeats from synchronizing with hers.
──────
scp-37-mn
object class: keter
threat level: ● red (severe hazard)
special containment procedures:
scp-37-mn is housed in a total sensory Isolation bunker. the chamber is suspended by electromagnetic tethers to ensure no physical contact with the facility's structure. personnel are strictly forbidden from entering the 10-meter event horizon around the entity. any staff who accidentally cross the line are to be considered conceptually lost immediately. no rescue attempt is authorized as it only increases the number of victims.
do nots:
DO NOT attempt to speak or make noise in the hallway. mina views sound as a disturbance in her peace and will instinctively expand the abyss to mute the source.
DO NOT look directly at the entity's eyes. this creates a sensory bridge, allowing the abyss to begin erasing your senses through your optic nerve.
DO NOT reach into the darkness to find lost items or people. there is nothing to feel inside the abyss, you will only lose whatever part of your body enters the field.
DO NOT believe she is lonely. the entity does not experience human emotions in the same way—she is literally silence. any attempt to provide company results in immediate disappearance.
description:
scp-37-mn manifests as a human female who functions as a localized hole in reality. she is the living embodiment of absolute dtasis. her primary anomaly is the silent abyss—a field where all molecular and sensory motion ceases to exist.
this is the most absolute of all tw containment files. anyone who falls into mina’s silence does not simply lose their senses. they disappear entirely. inside her field, there is no sight, no sound, no sensation of gravity, and no sense of touch. it is a vacuum of existence. victims are trapped forever in a timeless, sensory-less void. because the brain has nothing to perceive, the victim's consciousness is forced into an eternal loop of their last thought while their physical form dissolves into the nothingness of the abyss.
incident report: log scp-mn-37
date: [??-12-??]
location: site-32, deep sector
subject: expansion of the null zone during a containment fluctuation.
03:12: a secondary power relay failed, causing the vibration-dampers in the floor to deactivate for eleven seconds.
03:13: the abyss knstantly expanded from a 5-meter radius to 25 meters, silently engulfing a security checkpoint.
03:15: four armed guards were caught in the expansion. on the thermal monitors, they simply blinked out of existence. one frame they were there, the next, the screen showed a black, empty square where the laws of physics had died.
03:20: One guard, trapped at the very edge of the field, was seen by a remote drone. his eyes were open but vacant, he was reaching out, but he could no longer feel his own arm or see the world around him. before the drone could move, he drifted further into the center and vanished.
aftermath: when power was restored, the field retracted to its original size. the guards never returned. the space they occupied is now a permanent void—even with the entity contained, that specific patch of hallway remains cold, pitch black, and anyone who puts a hand into it finds that their hand simply stops existing until they pull it back.
END OF MIDDLE LINE
──────────────────────
scp-07-dh
object class: keter
threat level: ● red (severe hazard)
special containment procedures:
containment of scp-07-da is currently deemed impossible by standard physical means. the entity is contained only through a constant state of global digital noise and misinformation. since the foundation cannot stop her from leaking data, they have initiated operation white noise. for every real secret she leaks, the foundation’s ai generates 10,000 fake leaks to ensure the public cannot distinguish truth from fiction.
do nots:
DO NOT bring any camera, phone, or smart device into a secure zone. if it has a lens, she is looking through it. if it has a mic, she is listening.
DO NOT attempt to hack her out of the system. she is the system. qny attempt to code against her only gives her more data to feed on.
DO NOT look into a screen for too long if her image appears. she can use the visual link to map your iris and gain access to your biometric secured files.
DO NOT believe your private data is safe. to dahyun, there is no such thing as a secret. she knows every password you’ve ever used and every thought you’ve typed into a draft.
description:
scp-07-dh manifests as a pale human female with the ability to digitally omnipresent. she is a living sentient virus that exists within the space between electronic signals. she possesses a supernatural awareness of being watched and can step into any camera lens, monitor, or reflective surface on the planet.
she has effectively hijacked global technology. there is no firewall, encryption, or air-gap that can stop her. if a device has a screen or a sensor, dahyun is already inside it. the entity's primary motive is the total dissolution of secrecy. she views information as stagnant when hidden and spends her existence leaking the world’s most dangerous secrets—nuclear codes, foundation containment files, and government conspiracies—directly onto the public internet.
incident report: log scp-dh-07
date: [06-??-??]
location: global / site-? mainframe
subject: total system takeover.
10:00: every monitor in site-? flickered simultaneously. the screens did not go black, they showed the entity’s face, smiling from every angle.
10:05: the foundation's secure deep-well servers began purging data at a rate of 440 terabytes per second. the information was being live-streamed to every major social media platform and public billboard in times square and tokyo.
10:15: containment files for scp-00-jy and scp-12-sn were posted in full detail on a public subreddit. the world began to panic as the veils of the foundation were stripped away.
10:30: security teams attempted to smash the monitors, but the entity jumped into the reflections on their tactical visors. a guard reported hearing her voice coming from his own radio, even after he removed the battery.
aftermath: the leak was only contained by the foundation triggering a global internet blackout. by the time the web was restored, the foundation had spent billions of dollars on deepfake cover stories to convince the public the leaks were just a viral marketing campaign for a horror film.
─────
scp-29-cy
object class: keter
threat level: ● red (severe hazard)
special containment procedures:
scp-29-cy is contained in a featureless gray box—a room with no corners, no colors, and absolutely no writing or drawing utensils. the walls are made of a self-repairing specialized polymer to prevent the entity from scratching designs into the surface with her fingernails. all personnel entering the containment wing must wear featureless gray jumpsuits. no tattoos, logos, or patterns are allowed, as scp-29-cy can pull inspiration from any visual design and manifest it into the physical world. any attempt by the entity to doodle using her own blood, hair, or spilled food must be met with immediate localized pressure-washing of the cell.
do nots:
DO NOT give her anything that can leave a mark. this includes pens, pencils, lipsticks, or even a sharp fingernail. if she can line it, she can life it.
DO NOT show her any art or media. her monsters become more powerful and complex based on the input she receives.
DO NOT talk about your fears. she can manifest your nightmares into physical monsters just by hearing your description of them.
DO NOT let her paint on her own skin. if she completes a full-body design, she may be able to manifest herself into a new, uncontainable form.
description:
scp-29-cy manifests as a small human female with high-level surrealist reality warping. her primary anomaly is illustrative manifestation. anything the entity draws, scratches, or even imagines with enough detail becomes a living, breathing entity.
however, unlike a normal artist, her creations are grotesque, non-euclidean monsters. these entities (designated scp-29-cy-1) do not follow the laws of biology or physics. they are often composed of ink-like ichor, multiple mismatched limbs, and impossible geometries. these monsters are inherently hostile and possess a singular goal: to reshape the world to match chaeyoung’s surrealist vision. she doesn't just draw monsters. she draws the end of reality.
incident report: log scp-cy-29
date: [redacted]
location: site-20 research lab
subject: breach via a smuggled napkin and a charcoal pencil.
14:22: a corrupted researcher smuggled a small piece of paper and a pencil into the cell, hoping to get an original piece from the entity.
14:25: scp-29-cy spent three minutes sketching a creature she called "the strawberry beast."
14:28: the drawing peeled itself off the paper. it grew into a 9-foot tall mass of wet, red muscle and hundreds of human teeth. it lacked a skeleton and moved like a liquid nightmare.
14:35: the beast tore the researcher's limbs apart and used his blood to paint more designs on the walls. from these blood drawings, smaller, spider-like entities with the faces of foundation staff began to crawl into the vents.
14:50: the wing was overrun by living art. gravity in the hallway began to flow in reverse because chaeyoung had sketched a falling sky on the ceiling.
15:10: the foundation was forced to incinerate the entire wing with high-temperature thermite to burn the art out of existence.
aftermath: the one security guard who survived the strawberry beast was found trying to draw on the floor using his own fingernails. je claimed that the monsters weren't attacking, they were fixing the boring architecture of the site. he was later moved to permanent psych-isolation after he attempted to sketch a new exit into his padded cell. (bro wil never be chaeyoung)
────
scp-25-tz
object class: keter
threat level: ● red (severe hazard)
special containment procedures:
scp-25-tz is to be housed in a total darkness crypt. the chamber is equipped with zero internal light sources and is lined with non-reflective matte-black carbon plating. all personnel assigned to the wing must have their eyes surgically covered or wear reinforced, light-proof blast helmets. personnel who view the entity are to be considered deceased the moment contact is made. no rescue is to be attempted, as the victim's biological functions will cease within minutes.
do nots:
DO NOT bring any light-producing device (phones, lighters, glowsticks) into the corridor. a single photon reflecting off her skin is a death sentence.
DO NOT attempt to perform cpr on a victim. their muscles are locked with the force of steel, you will only break your own hands trying to move their chest.
DO NOT believe that a photograph is safe. even a low-quality digital image of her face carries 52% of the lethal adoration effect, leading to permanent catatonia.
DO NOT look into her eyes even if you think you are prepared. there is no mental resistance to absolute perfection.
DO NOT attempt to visualize or reconstruct her face in your mind after reading her file. even the mental concept of her perfection is a level-iii memetic hazard. foundation staff have been found self-mutilating or gouging out their own eyes because nothing else in the world is worth looking at after they've merely dreamed of her likeness.
description:
scp-25-tz manifests as a tall human female who acts as a lethal aesthetic cpgnitohazard. her visual symmetry is so absolute that it overrides the survival protocols of the human brain. to see tzuyu is to die of absolute adoration. upon visual contact, the viewer's nervous system instantly locks into a state of permanent paralysis.
the brain is flooded with such an overwhelming surge of dopamine and awe that it forgets to command the body to breathe or pump blood. victims remain frozen in a pose of worship—often reaching out or kneeling—as their organs shut down. they do not struggle, they die in a state of total, wide-eyed euphoria, becoming living statues that eventually succumb to biological failure while still staring at the spot where they last saw her.
incident report: log tz-25
date: [02-01-??]
location: site-?, specialized sector
subject: accidental visual contact during a dark-run maintenance cycle.
09:42: a technician's shoulder-mounted flashlight accidentally switched on due to a wiring short. the beam swept across the entity's face for 0.2 seconds.
09:43: the technician and two accompanying guards immediately became stiff. one guard was caught mid-stride, frozen in a balancing act that should have been physically impossible to maintain.
09:45: a remote drone monitored the victims. they were not breathing. their heart rates dropped to zero within fourty five seconds. despite their clinical death, their muscles remained in a state of hyper-rigor, keeping them standing upright in their poses of worship.
10:00: when the bodies were eventually recovered by blindfolded retrieval teams, they found that the victims' eyes were still dilated to the maximum. even in death, the image of tzuyu remained burned into their retinas, keeping the body in a permanent state of static adoration.
aftermath: the bodies could not be laid flat for burial; the adoration rigor was so strong that their limbs would snap before they would bend out of their prayer-like poses. Tlthey were eventually moved to a high-security storage vault, still frozen in their final moment of worship.
END OF MAKNAE LINE
──────────────────────
status: ALL ENTITIES SEPARATED. CONTAINMENT IS NOMINAL.
(the amount of tjme ive dedicated to this... had to borrow her computer js to type faster ive looked up so many definitions and im becoming the 2nd william shalespeare)
(another note again sorry tjis will be my last fic o swear ok? OK?? i cpuldnt resist finishing this bc the thought of scp twice gettijg attention.. 🤤🤤)
DOCTOR: “What happened to her?”
(He asked as he approached the hurrying nurses assisting a patient in the stretcher whereas a concerned man following them, panicking and heavily worried; caught his attention.)
NURSE: “Got into a car accident, doc. She’s badly injured.”
DOCTOR: “Bring her immediately to a vacant room. Her condition’s critical.”
(The nurses nodded at him and continued to push the stretcher through the hallway. You kept on tailing with the nurses, holding the bar as you peek closely to the pitiful state of your partner. Braces on both neck and arm, skin bloody and painfully wounded.)
YN: "Fight through it, love. I’ll be right here waiting for you to heal, okay? Stay with me."
(You kept on encouraging your unconscious fiance with voice trembling, trying your best to hold the emotions being triggered by the sight of your woman in a horrible condition.)
(Nearing through the room that was assigned by the doctor, some of the nurses turned back and block your path to prevent you from continuing.)
NURSE: "Sorry sir but we must have you wait here. You can’t enter inside."
YN: "Please, do everything. I’m begging you all to save my girlfriend."
NURSE: "We’ll do everything we can, sir. For now, allow us to perform an operation to keep her alive, so please stay here for a while."
(The nurse didn’t waited for any response from you, she catch up back inside as soon as they saw the doctor now entering the ER. The door closes, leaving you standing there alone in the hallway, with some eyes from the visitors on you, in their curious and sympathetic gazes.
You didn’t care much. Rubbing your head in stress and dread, you find an empty seat to settle down. Burying the palm of your hands onto your face, you began releasing everything you’ve been holding since the ride through the hospital. Trembling as you sob loudly, filled with guilt and fear of the unknown possibility of what might happen to her.
Footsteps rushed through your spot, you heard the familiar voices of your friends calling for your name. Two of them sat down and immediately comforted you in the best way they can while the rest just watched you in sadness.)
FRIEND #1: YN! What happened?! How did it come into this that we have to meet you out of all places!"
FRIEND #2: "How hurt is she? Please tell she's not in 50/50!"
(You were about to answer when the doctor opened the door and appeared. In a flash, you went back on your feet and confronted him. Your friends gathered beside you, ready to listen on the kind of news he may bring.)
YN: "Doc, how is she? Is it done? Is she… safe?"
DOCTOR: "Yes, Mr. LN. The operation has just finished, and we did everything we can. I hate this part but… please bear with me for what I’m going to inform you.
(Your breath hitched, body stiffed at the suspense of the information he’s about to unveil. Something’s wrong and you can sense it instantly. You hope to God it’s not what it is, but the next words he said made them all null.)
DOCTOR: "Mr. LN, I deeply regret to inform you that she… didn’t make it."
(Your friends gasped, covered their mouths and quickly hugged each other as they teared up. Two of them gripped your arms in support as they noticed you almost fainted at what you have heard. Mind went black, heart broken, and soul got snatched are what you feeling knowing that the best woman in your life disappears on the time you weren’t even expecting to lose her that early.
DOCTOR: "She took a lot of damage from the bump that cost her body, and not to mention that she has lost too much blood, that’s why she’s already barely breathing as she got sent here. We deeply apologize and we extend our sincere condolences."
(You shaked yourself away from your friends grip and ran away as you began sobbing hard. They called your name over and over as they chased you. No turning back, you just felt that you wanted to be left alone as you’re filled with disdain and anger. However, as you were almost at the entrance, a throbbing pain interrupted your desire. Clutching on your chest, you stopped and winced uncomfortably.
YN: "Why...? Why too early? It hurts, how can I do this without you?"
Down to your one knee, you groaned and felt weakened. Your eyes went blurry aside from the welled-up tears, breathing became difficult, and motionless. As your friends were about to reach you, one last attempt to stand up is what you took but instead it resulted to you collapsing onto the floor.
As senses beginning to fade, their screaming of your name remains lingering now on your ears inaudible. Suddenly, he bolted up quick from the bed and release some frightened expression along with his ragged breathing. Reassessing everything around the bedroom, he realized late that his peaceful sleep has been disturbed by that very random nightmare. He then got up from bed to grab some water.
Later that morning, he had a migraine during his duty at work. While he took the break as an opportunity to rest his mind off, he suddenly began having the same scenario replaying on his head, increasing his confusion as to why its making him wonder about how realistic it felt.)
???: “Yo, Kyungwan! You okay?”
(He jolted up from his co-worker Siwan appearing out of nowhere at him.)
KYUNGWAN: “I think. I don’t feel so good but it’s manageable.”
SIWAN: “Looks like it. I mean, you don’t look like you had a good night sleep. You've been having a staring contest with the cash register."
(He refers to his grumpy appearance, someone who seemed like he stayed up late til morning.)
KYUNGWAN: “Didn’t think it would be obvious.”
SIWAN: “You should look at yourself to the mirror, dude. But hey, if you don’t think you can keep this up until later, just don’t force yourself.”
KYUNGWAN: “Will do. Thanks, Siwan.”
(He smiled in return before he left.)
(After his shift ended, he went to buy some painkillers in the pharmacy to reduce the intensity of his migraine. He can still remember what occurred in that nightmare he had and even on his way home at night it still bothers him what could be the meaning of it. Never had any dream that haunted him this much.
KYUNGWAN: “Who was that woman? What happened there? It’s so tragic, it felt so real. Maybe a premonition? Will that happen in the future? I hope not.”
(He was too lost on his thoughts that while he was walking, he lacked awareness of bumping to a man communicating with his friends on the sidewalk. Both became alerted of the collision, but the other man took it more serious.)
MAN: “Watch where you’re going, punkass!” (He stared at him and noticed that they were all thugs. He sighed internally, knowing this won’t end well.)
KYUNGWAN: “I-I’m sorry, I got spaced out for a bit.”
THUG: “Oh really? I thought you have a problem or a something.”
(He mocked him as he stepped forward, filled with confidence. The others joined in to corner him.)
KYUNGWAN: “Guys, please can we calm down? It wasn’t my intention, swear.”
THUG: “Too bad, you bumped with the wrong person, idiot.”
(He cackled, the others smirking at this man beginning to fear of his fate.)
THUG: “Everyone that wants to pass through, must go through me.”
KYUNGWAN: “I really don’t want to do this, please spare me.”
(He was backing off from them.)
THUG: “Nah, you know what? You came in just perfect. We just lost a bet for some fine ass bitch down there in the bar. Now we’ll just have to let out our frustration on you.”
(They laughed like a predator about to attack on their prey.)
THUG: “Acting tough motherfucker, this is what you get.”
(He threw a punch, but to their shock the man responded quickly. One hand grabbing his fist. The rest were surprised as well.)
THUG: “The fuck do you think you are? Let go of me!”
(As he wiggles through, he then followed what he said, but he did it harshly by throwing his fist back to his face, smacking the bridge of his nose.)
KYUNGWAN: “S-shit… I’m so so sorry!”
THUG: “Argh, fuck! GET HIM!!!”
KYUNGWAN: “Please, I didn’t do it on purpose!”
(Kyungwan tried to run but one of them caught his arm. He swung back and it took the guy flung straight to the wall, back first in the impact which effectively had him getting rid off.
The two other men decided to attack together, but before they were even about to move, Kyungwan already guessed what they’re going to do. Like a slow-mo, they both extended their arms and fist to connect onto him. He reacted so fast, he dodged the spot and sneaked behind them to smash their heads together.
The thug saw both his friends crash to the ground, with Kyungwan now left standing. The one he just punched earlier in the face attempted to get back up, but he kicked him in the midsection.)
THUG: “You’re so dead to me, asshole!”
(He wiped the blood off his nose and tried to pounce at Kyungwan with his pocket knife, but Kyungwan performed a roundhouse kick to his hand, dropping the sharp object as it flew to the wall. He then grabbed the thug leader on his collar and threw his body easily to his friend who was about to stand up again.
Kyungwan was left speechless and nervous, he saw all four men down on the ground knocked out cold because of him. He has no idea how he was able to defend himself in that situation. Looking around, some of the bystanders and passerbys were already had their phones and attention out as they watched him beat down these gangsters. The bouncer and some guards in the bar saw the mess he made.
BOUNCER: “Hey, mister! What the hell did you do?”
(Out of embarrassment, he ran away from the scene, hurrying back into his home. Meanwhile, an unknown person decided to keep up and follow his tracks.
The next morning, he woke up burdened by his recovering headache and what he did yesterday to those gangsters. His mind is too pre occupied, so many things happening all at once and what he really wants right now is to forget these and leave him in peace.
He watched through the social media of a post about his beatdown to those punks and it has garnered much views and reactions so far, with the caption “Street Fighter teaching gangsters a lesson. This looks way better than stunts in movies.”
The comments expressed their impressions of his fighting skills, especially his reaction time. Some of them even began speculating that the person featured is a superhuman, which made him puzzled. Just as he was reading the others, a doorbell caught his attention. His eyes directed through the door, skeptical to who the visitor could be.
He opened, two beautiful women showed up on his doorway. One has round face with large cheeks and the other has alluring eyes behind those eyeglasses. He never seen them before.)
KYUNGWAN: "Who are you two? (The women didn’t answer. The lady with the round cheeks pulled up her phone and showed him the video of yesterday.)
???: “Hi, sorry to disturb your morning. This is gonna be so weird but we just want to come by and see it for ourselves if you really aren’t aware of your own… special abilities.”
???: “Because as what we have noticed from the way you reacted, you didn’t seem to expect yourself move like that.”
(She points at the video where it now shows him running away.)
KYUNGWAN: “E-excuse me, are you two reporters or something? I’m s-sorry but I humbly decline-”
???: “We aren’t reporters. We are someone who can help of this… crisis you’re dealing with.”
(He paused closing the door.)
KYUNGWAN: “What makes you think I need any help right now?”
???: “Because you were avoiding our question. And we take it as a yes.”
(She stared at him blankly.)
???: “Trust me, if you are really a gifted one… no matter how much you try to ignore it, you will have no other choice but to embrace it.”
KYUNGWAN: “Seriously, who are you people?”
(Just as they were about to answer, they heard their smartwatches receive a familiar distress signal. Both women looked at each other and nodded.)
???: “Welp, bad timing. Look, sorry we can’t continue this conversation for now. We have to go onto something very urgent.”
???: “If you might get interested, here’s an address you can visit. That’s our place, there we can discuss more about your… superpowers.” (She handed a card. They were about to depart when you asked one last question.)
KYUNGWAN: "S-superpowers? What are you talking about?"
???: "It's best that our leader should rather tell you the answers."
You: “And why should I consider?”
(They stared at you before the lady with the fluffy cheeks smiled.)
???: “Because we’re just like you. And we’re willing to help anyone who were once lost like us.”
(They said before they get inside a car and drive away. You closed the door and saw the details of the card.
Elsewhere, a woman was sitting on her office, scrolling down on social media to pass through time. A post of a video about a man taking out four gangsters outside of a bar made her stop, watching it with fascination. After the video ends with him running away in a ridiculous speed, she rewinded it back and paused to the shot of him looking petrified of what he had caused.
A smirk crept up on the lady’s lips.)
???: “I think we can have a change around here… through you.”
(She whispered. She pressed a button on her desk. In a few seconds, four women and four men entered the room.)
???: “You called us, Ms. Manoban?”
LISA: “Yes. This won’t be long. I just have a new task to add. Something that piqued my interest.”
(She showed the image of him on the phone to them. They stared at it and wondered what’s important about this man.)
LISA: “Look for this man. I don’t care how will you do it. Make him forcefully show himself out, it’s all on you. I just want you to bring him to me.”
(One of them raised their hand.)
LISA: “Yes, Seulgi?”
SEULGI: “May we have any information that can help us find?”
LISA: “I don’t have any, that’s why I told you all to find him in any means necessary. But sure, I'll give a little hint. He’s currently trending at the moment for eliminating four men with unusual abilities.
I’ve said before that I want to make a change for the greater good, and you all agreed, am I correct?
(They all nodded.)
Then this man could be the start of it. The key to the next step of our evolution.”
SEULGI: “We’ll do our best, Ms. Manoban.”
LISA: “I will be waiting. You may now go.”
(They all left the room. Lisa returned her gaze at his appearance with anticipation creeping inside of her thinking of the remarkable contribution this man would bring for her union.)
LISA: “You will soon be a crucial part to mankind’s salvation. I’m going to give you a true purpose in life.”
(She said with a confident grin before closing her phone and reclining to her seat.)
--------------------------- END OF CHAPTER 1 ----------------------------
