#status effect: girlfriend | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bitchlessdino · 5 months ago

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the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) [1]

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut, fluff, slight angst Word count: current 12.5k (total w.c. 34.4k) rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now. tags: MDNI, Childhood rivals to Best friends to Ex-best Friends to Strangers to Fake Dating to Lovers (try to keep up), childhood trauma, mentions of neglectful parents, random idol features, reader and seungcheol in their 30s, grump x sunshine, fake dating au, office au, taekwondo buddies, virgin!seungcheol, experienced!reader, food & alcohol scenes, yearning, smut tags to be provided in part 2

author note: Thank you to @tusswrites @gyuswhore @lovetaroandtaemin the title is so fucking long because this is the longest fucking thing i've written in my entire life. A little inspired by those ridiculously long ass anime titles that don’t need to be that length like they don’t need to be this fucking long, but they just are and it’s dumb, but I cackle every time I look at it. I'm dedicating this to @haologram who does this on the regular somehow and has been supporting me throughout the whole process bc this drove me nuts.

“Looking for fake girlfriend for hire aged 25-35, preferably with job, neat, and single. Negotiable compensation. About myself. I am a 30yo, 5’10 male with six figure job trying to relate to my colleagues by appearing as though I have a Significant Other. Your required duties will only be your punctual company to public events. Serious inquires only. Thank you.”

You stared long and hard at the Craigslist listing before quickly shooting a message, not giving yourself a moment to hesitate and regret your choices and quickly clicked off the window to avert your attention elsewhere.

Craigslist was not a website you browsed every day, but today was not like every day. Today commemorated your last and final friend who celebrated her relationship hitting their two year milestone, reminding you that you’re the final single on the lonely island that was your life.

For as long as you could remember, everyone—including you—had been in some kind of relationship. And for some convoluted reason, having a girlfriend/wife/mother status mattered in the circles you ran, especially now when your dating history has been stretched and chewed like bubble gum. At this point, you weren’t closed off to anything, not even fake relationships.

You were sick and tired of putting in the effort of meeting these guys with nothing to come out of it; it was dud after dud, shitty date after shitty date. At the end of the day, you knew you were just meeting other people to satisfy the expectations of others, succumbing to the pressure of being coupled up with anyone to have your happy ending.

This was your chance to say fuck it. If they were all so insistent on seeing you date someone, you were going to give them just that. It didn’t matter who it was.

The Craigslist guy seemed to be in the same boat. Albeit, his situation sounded more unique compared to yours, he was also just trying to survive in this inherently judgemental world. You could imagine a compromise that would benefit you both correspondingly. It was just a matter of convincing your new potential faux beau that you were in desperate need of his assistance.

Then again, how bad was his situation that he needed a fake girlfriend to make himself remotely likable?

You didn’t know it yet, but in Choi Seungcheol’s case, it was dire.

The effect he had by walking through the sixty-story VENTE Co. building already brought locals to shivers, but the air of the department he led was frigid whenever he passed through. Each heavy footstep of his grew louder as he made his way to his private office, and always with that empty soulless stare that never ceases to miss a day at work. No subordinate would dare even think of locking eyes, nor breathe the oxygen lingering on him, until the door closed behind him with no air to escape.

Before Seungcheol came to power as office manager, the rumors circulating about how he got into his position of power before transferring over to his current branch were the kind you’d hear about in fiction. Word got around about the possible blood he spilled, the secrets he told, or even the secret withheld for exploitation to get where he is now. This wasn’t any lowly position, after all, he was ten to twenty years younger than his colleagues holding the same position, earlier on track than anyone else in the company for someone who wasn’t an heir or a product of nepotism. Everyone assumed the gossip must’ve had some truth to them.

Even Chan, the poor new intern fresh out of college, had fallen victim to the water cooler talk and seamlessly fell into the office dynamics. He cowered in his cubicle after seeing Manager Choi pass through the hall, clutching the toner cartridge he was asked to change out that now stained his fingers. And a breath of relief escaped him to hear the sound of a closing door.

Seungcheol didn’t do anything aggressive or violent with the way he ran the office, but he was a man of a few words. He neither confirmed nor denied these rumors, he just never addressed them, thinking maybe that’s how it should stay. Instead, he let the stone-cold glare that made the hairs on people’s necks stand upright speak for him. He didn’t go to company events, or plan them for that matter, he would just work his hours (often more hours than less), send out his orders, and leave work without saying so much as a goodbye.

And why would he have to? He was the boss. He didn’t need to do more than what was necessary.

Yet, there was something he craved that couldn’t be achieved in the current workplace climate. Something he didn’t realize until it was already too late to turn things around unless the world was flipped on its head.

From a young age, he was taught being feared was a good thing. It’s why his parents would put him in hard-hitting hobbies like taekwondo, hapkido, and boxing. He was groomed to be a leader who was strong, demanded his power, and strived to be the apex.

Yet, he was never taught that being lonely was something that came along with it. That climbing ranks, that gaining power and authority could make him feel so empty inside. Just like climbing the top of Mount Everest alone, it was just as cold and lonesome if no one was there to see it.

One weekend, curiosity got the best of him, and he wondered on the search engines if this feeling was normal, if others had this problem, or if it was a side effect of his ambition. Research and being a net explorer was a hobby that he fell victim to on occasion, this being an extreme case where he could not seem to grasp. One trending word led to another and then the web sucked him into a spiral of Google snippets from Reddit stories to self-help guides.

What had felt like minutes had actually been hours since he started his search and he was beginning to get impatient until articles about How to be Likeable popped on his screen. Like many of the others, it sounded like nonsense or gimmicky, but one title stood out to him amongst others.

He scoffed as he moved his mouse to scroll through the pages, thinking it couldn’t have been that easy or perfect, but it just was. Unlike everyone else’s advice that told him to ‘smile more’ or ‘show positive body language’ (whatever the hell that meant), if he had a significant other defending him and complimenting him all the time, he wouldn’t have to do the work. They would do all the talking for him. He just had to compensate them enough to make it happen. It was idiot proof.

And that’s how he found himself on Craigslist, the site that seemed to have it all with no exceptions. His post was decent, vague enough to not make his status or identity known, yet enticing enough to possibly arouse a candidate. He just had to be sure they were someone he could work with.

After scouring through about twenty to thirty scammy and near-illegal offers, one piqued his interest, the single sensible response amongst a hoard of crazies. Maybe he found his girl. His fake girl that is.

“Hello, Are you still looking for a girlfriend? I seem to suit all your criteria.”

Things were looking up for Seungcheol, all that was next was the meeting. Being the workaholic he was, Seungcheol only managed to squeeze you in for a 45-minute interview during lunch, but it had to be by the office, giving you both the smallest time window imaginable. His lunch was the only time he would be able to do transactions such as this, and any weekend of his was solely for his leisure. Talking business–such as a fake dating proposition–on his well deserved weekend was not something he wanted to pencil in his calendar.

The coffee shop was perfect, only a ten-minute walk from the VENTE Co. building if Seungcheol speed-walked, and if he was early enough, he could get a freshly made deli sliced sandwich they were known for to have on his way back. However, he didn’t want to prolong this interaction more than he needed to. He knew that others from the office would occasionally visit or pass by this same cafe, but it was the most viable option. He just needed everything to go according to plan and at his pace. So far, it seemed as if it was; all that was left was your punctual arrival–but that moment had passed ten minutes ago.

He looked at his watch impatiently, tapping his foot in the incessant way he would, sighing as everyone that came through the passing door didn't even spare him a glance, maybe even some actively avoiding his eyes. He started to wonder if his description of himself was specific enough: male in his 30s with dark hair in a tailored gray suit. It wasn’t rocket science. Yet, not one who arrived looked like his potential match.

Seungcheol was beginning to think he wasted his time, his energy, and his effort. Is that what it felt like? To put heart into something and be burned after. He hadn’t felt anything like this since—

He groaned, scanning the perimeter self consciously and never feeling more humiliated in his life. As if he was actually stood up from a date. Running his tongue against his molars, Seungcheol scoffed, plucking himself off his seat as he bowed his head to avoid eyes. He was filled with silent rage, seething with resentment for someone who did not even bother to show up and reject him in person. This was one of the reasons why he didn’t date.

As if on cue, the automatic glass doors opened, and a hoard of familiar voices were boisterously laughing as they entered the cafe, joking and jabbing at each other, as if ready to cue the sitcom music any time now. However, as Seungcheol barely lifted his gaze, they stopped in their tracks, flight or fight responses taking over and the instinct to survive this encounter held precedence above anything else. They straighten their postures like soldiers in a line up, changing their light atmosphere in the flip of a switch.

“Mr. Choi! Good to see you,” Seokmin greeted, his smile quivering.

“D-do you like their coffee too! How good to know,” Soonyoung followed, eyes shifting.

“Did you just have lunch, sir?” Chan managed to say while staring at his own feet, hiding behind Hansol, who respectfully nodded and kept eye contact to a minimum.

The office manager nodded, scheming an escape route to retain some ounce of the dignity he had left, if any. The exit was a mere couple of feet away. He could just walk out, and his subordinates wouldn’t have a say against it. The plan was ready to be set in motion until he felt something–rather someone, coiling their arm around his bicep. Their warmth jolted him erect, making him stand pin-straight, much like his employees when they came across him.

His head snapped at the unheralded intruder, locking eyes with a pair unexpectedly warm and wide, staring back at him with an unspoken fondness, and glint of humor. He couldn’t help but feel as if he’d seen them before, along with that smile that broke out so wide the cheekbones reached their eyes, but somehow still effortless.

“Forgot something?” You asked, beaming at him with anticipation, clinging to him for companionship.

Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at you, his intrigue now replaced with puzzlement and his head was filled with noise, none of which making any sense, starting with the person in front of him. “You–”

The crowd of Seungcheol’s colleagues all started harmoniously greeting you, their eyes lighting up and genuine smiles forming for the first time since encountering their superior outside the office. You were quick to entertain them, never leaving Seungcheol’s side as his arm essentially became a leash, lugging the thirty-year-old man around like a purse dog, and being at the receiving end, he was too stunned to object.

“Hi, you must work with this guy right here,” you grinned, nudging into Seungcheol with the crown of your head.

“How do you know Mr. Choi, Miss…” Jihoon began to ask, curiosity radiating off of him as much as it did everyone else.

“Well,” you took Seungcheol’s hand out of his pocket, interlocking your fingers together, earning a bigger reaction than a simple thousand-yard stare from the office manager. “I’m Seungcheol’s girlfriend.”

Everyone involved in the conversation stared at you as if you had grown a second head and Seungcheol looked at you as if you had grown a third.

“You and Mr.Choi?”

“This is news to us!”

“You both look so good together!”

You quietly laughed as they all prodded you with questions, while your supposed boyfriend did what only what his motor skills would allow him; that was to observe, watching how your expression turned just naturally light and jovial as you blatantly lie in front of the strangers before you. It’s when he realized for once in his life he feared someone, and it was this smiley little creature that lied through their teeth as easily as they breathed.

“Well, I’ve got to walk him back to the office,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “otherwise he will not go back, and he’ll lose track of time. It was nice meeting everyone. Maybe I can do it officially in better circumstances!”

“Of course! We’ll see you in the office, Mr. Choi!”

“Yeah, see you! Pleasure meeting you Miss!”

You made your way out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk and gunned for it as soon as you were out of their sight, all while he was still holding your hand, having not spoken a single word the entire altercation and not knowing a single word to speak thereafter. You sighed when you found an alleyway away from prying eyes, hands on your knees as you panted, reminding yourself you really needed to take advantage of that at home gym equipment you bought for yourself. “Finally. Wow, they’re really nosy, aren’t they?”

“Who the hell are you?” he finally asked.

You lifted your eyes to meet his eyes, seeing the pits of black that glared down at you. If you were phased by it, you didn’t let it show, only dusting yourself off as you stuck out your hand. The unwavering grin on your face. “Didn’t you hear? I’m your girlfriend.”

“You’re late,” he pointed out plainly.

“Yeah, you try to catch three buses and a subway to get here.”

“You could've gotten a cab.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “And waste my money? No, thank you.”

“You’re getting compensated anyway. Why would that matter?”

You gave him a teeth baring grin, ulterior motives written all over your face. “Well, actually, I had a deal in mind.”

Seungcheol scoffed, scanning his eyes over you as judgment fogged his vision. He trusted you as far as he could throw you–which frankly, could be really far, but there was something frightening about you. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I’m not a gigolo and never plan on being one. You had one job and it was to be punctual and you’d get paid. How is that so hard?”

“But I did a good job, didn’t I? Pretending to be your girlfriend?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but you made a good point, and knowing you’ve already made an impression back at the cafe, the younger guys in the office had probably spread the news throughout the floor by now, if not then throughout the whole building. Just like those vicious rumors had spread. Except maybe for once the word ‘conniving’ or ‘intimidating’ wasn’t being used in the context.

He sighed, growing weary, checking his watch for the time, since he was in desperate need for this encounter to be wrapped up as soon as possible. “What is it you want?”

You grinned. “Well, to be honest. I need a fake boyfriend–”

“No.”

“But–”

“That’s not how things are going to work. I pay you to work for me. You do a job. And that’s that. There’s no deals to be made here.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Wow, sorry, but this is actually crazy to me.”

“How the real world works? I do apologize that no one’s ever taught you that.”

You shook your head, smiling. “No, it’s just…Choi Seungcheol. You’ve really grown up, haven’t you?”

“Excuse me?” He asked, hearing his full name as if he was being told a slur. “However, you found my name, my status, you have a lot of nerve–”

“Eight years old. You had just won champions for competitors under ten and you felt like you were on top of the world. You wanted to scream but not because you had won, but because no one was there to watch you win, not anyone you cared about anyway. Except for one person, the person competing against you. So you screamed together at a nearby cliff in the mountains. You were still sad, bawling your eyes out, but at least you weren't alone.”

He couldn’t breathe. In his chest, something grabbed at his lungs, and it squeezed, cutting off his airways. His gut tightened and jaw clenched. He had never planned on being reminded of that time of his life again. “How…”

“Hi, Cheol. It’s good to see you too, bud.”

Seungcheol had a particular youth, and as a kid, he was forced to do more than enough to prove himself. Achievements were not only required but expected of him. If he won something, it was the standard. He had to learn quickly that everything was meant to be earned, not given, both fear and attention.

You were weird. You had a lot going on, and he didn’t like that. Yet, you took the same classes he did, performed as high as he did, were recommended to the same competitions, and commended for simply existing. It was blasphemy. His young little heart couldn’t fathom such anarchy.

He couldn’t understand it before, but he was jealous. Jealous of you, your family, your dynamics, and everything you represented. You were ignorantly happy, and he hated that you still were just as good of a student as him, even if it was just at taekwondo.

Things started to make sense when he decided to place focus on himself, the gold, the medals, and everything he’s worked hard to achieve. Why did it matter that you were barely great at taekwondo, he excelled. Not only that, he was getting straight As, a model student, and someone respected and feared amongst his peers.

Well, those kinds of kids don't cry when their parents don’t come to their taekwondo championships, do they? No matter how many times he’s reminded them of the day to ensure they make it. He felt so pathetic. So utterly alone. He was a fucking winner, yet he was whining and crying about mommy and daddy like a loser.

“Hi, are you okay?” the snot-covered young Seungcheol turned his head, seeing you, a silver medal winner asking if he was okay. Pathetic.

He was going to brush you off. Quite literally shove you away for wasting his time and invading his personal space, but you sounded so concerned, voice light and warm like sun rays, and before he knew it, your arms came around him, pulling him into a tight hug. His tears soaked someone else's uniform that day and that frustrated him like hell.

It had to be you of all people to see him cry. His rival. The bane of his existence. Well, the bane of his existence had nice hugs and smelled like strawberry smackers and sweat. He didn’t know how he knew what those were but remembering it all now, it’s exactly what they were.

It was then you convinced him to scream from that cliff with you. You both screamed so loud that it made the birds nearby fly away out of fear, and it made you both belly laugh so hard you fell on your backs. The tears had dried against his flushed cheeks by now, but he still felt them coming, every passing second just reminded him that his parents didn't find him all that important to celebrate. And when you noticed, you made him scream some more. Screamed until your throats hurt.

And you were right, he wasn’t alone anymore.

He had something to look forward to at every taekwondo class now other than the sense of accomplishment. He had a friend to spend time with. And for the next few years, you’d continue to be that person for him. His person. The only person who would know how to break him out of the mental prison he was forced into since birth.

The times waiting around to be picked up, he’d spend time with you, getting ice cream or eating the convenience store snack that he’s been told would rot his brain and eat away at his skin. Other days when they felt like it, they’d ditch class entirely, pretending they were sick just to go watch a movie or find somewhere far away to be themselves, alone together.

Then you both turned eleven. Eleven was when things changed almost drastically. New insecurities formed at that delicate age. Taekwondo classes were harder, kids were getting bigger and stronger, meanwhile you were getting taller. Taller than Seungcheol even, and that shook him.

Maybe that’s when your dynamic started to change. Then came a ripple of bad events, tumbling forward like a domino effect that led to the demise of your friendship. A series of events that Seungcheol forced himself to repress as it gnawed at him like a bad infection.

But not like the way your presence did at this very moment.

“Out of all of the people that answered…”

“Kind of like fate, huh?”

Seungcheol shook his head. “Or Divine punishment.”

You furrowed your brows. “Hey.”

"Okay, so, what? You think because we were peers in a Taekwondo class together it meant something?”

“Well, not really, but, you don’t think it’s nice to see a friendly face?”

“Someone I haven’t seen in twenty years is something I would hardly call friendly.”

Your smile fell a little for the first time, only to pick right back up as if it never happened. “Ouch, hurtful. But, I'm still very down to help you play your girlfriend; if you’ll help me, that is.”

Seungcheol looked over at you cautiously, wondering why you, someone who once threw caution to the wind, would take matters into your hands and fake-date for any reason. “Why do you need the help?”

You shrugged. “Bragging rights.”

His eyes could not roll further back into his head. “Can’t do that with a real boyfriend?”

“And you can’t get a real girlfriend to get your employees to like you?”

He stared back at you unamused, but with nothing to come back with.

You shrugged, knowing you had him backed into a corner. “Like it or not, we are alike, you and I. And, we kind of know each other, so it works out.”

“...How much do you actually need this?”

“Just as much as you do.”

He found himself contemplating, crazy enough to think that he could make a situation like this work. “Fine, we’ll draw up a contract at our next meeting during my next lunch hour.”

He started taking his leave quickly in the direction of his office building, not looking back. Still, you called out to him, with more to ask. “Our next date. Why not this weekend?”

“I’m not wasting my weekend for this.” he shouted back, his back shrinking away out of view.

“You’re not going to waste your weekend on your girlfriend?” you shouted louder, only for it to be no use; now you were just a woman screaming by yourself in an alleyway.

You didn’t have too many expectations for this appointment, you were just blessed that you were a freelancer and could make time for it at all. Otherwise, you would’ve never made that lunch. You managed to sneak past his line of vision, eyes darting at him immediately and processing his features before slowly backing away into a corner and taking up a booth. You wanted to observe him before you eventually met him face-to-face, ensuring he wasn’t some weirdo until you realized the face you were looking at was the spitting image of someone you once knew 20 years ago.

You had to be sure, pulling up your phone immediately to stalk any possible social media pages. You found a perfect match and the exact name. Hand over your mouth, you were beyond shocked, You hadn’t thought about this boy in ages and here he was before you, a grown man. A hot, brooding man.

What the actual fuck.

He started getting up, frustration and impatience written all over his face as he let out a big huff, and you couldn’t help but break out in a smile seeing him sulk until the panic sunk in that he was trying to leave. As he began to head to the door, the exits were blocked, the people passing through all smiles until they laid their eyes on him, and immediately you see their bodies tense up in his presence.

You were beginning to understand the severity and unease that settled in the room when he was present. It was as if their lighthearted comedy turned into a thriller in a matter of seconds. At that moment, you saw your window, so quickly you jumped through it.

You chuckled as you remembered his expression when he first caught sight of you, the pure confusion and bewilderment on his face when you introduced yourself to his coworkers. You were surprised yourself when he did absolutely nothing, but perhaps he showed it as a sign of faith, or maybe he was just that out of it.

Nonetheless, things seemed to work in your favor, and the fake boyfriend you’ve come across was none other than the Choi Seungcheol. A mixed bag of emotions, but something you could work with, way better than any internet creep. It just looked like there was a lot of catching up that needed to be done.

And soon enough, you were about to catch up to the fact that Seungcheol meant business and was anal about his terms and conditions.

“You have to be punctual, that was your only requirement in the ad alone. There cannot be a repeat of yesterday.”

You nodded, watching as he entered it in the shared document you both had displayed on both your laptops. “Okay, fine, but are you sure about discussing this here? What if you have a run-in with your coworkers again?”

“We’re in the corner, so we’re less likely to be spotted, and if we are it’ll look like another lunch…date.”

You raised an eyebrow, stopping at mid-sip of your Americano. “What was that?”

“What?”

“Why did you say it like that?”

He sighed, eyes visibly dull. “Like what?”

You moved your head animatedly, trying to prove a point. “Like you were choking on it. Like you were revolted by the idea of a date. A date with me?”

“Nothing personal. Don’t get defensive. This stuff is just arbitrary to me.”

“What’s arbitrary about it? People go on dates with people they like and sometimes fall in love. It happens every day.”

“Not me,” he retorted, typing in an important detail.

“So you don’t go on dates?”

“I work. Like everyone should be doing.”

“I work.”

He glanced up from the screen. “What do you do?”

“I freelance.”

“Hmm.” His eyes averted back to the screen. “Vague.”

“I make a good wage,” you emphasized. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

However, he didn’t seem to look convinced. “Are you sure you don't want to be financially compensated?”

“Shut up. I’m doing fine. Let’s get back to the contract please.”

“Finally.”

Things were officially being drawn up electronically before being sent over for you to sign, giving you a sense of relief and a weight off your shoulders. You craned your neck, feeling the strain of peering down at a laptop have its effect on you. “Okay looks like it's all good. Looks like we can finally be in business. What will be our first move, considering you are the first to have proposed the idea?”

“Yes, well, that will be the office party the company is hosting. Usually, everyone is required to attend, and I've skipped many events like it–”

“And you want me to come with you to make you look good for your team?”

“No, I want to make you an excuse so I don’t have to go.”

You furrowed your brows. “That’s counterproductive. Literally the opposite of what I’m here for.”

“But neither of us would have to go.”

Your fingers curled up into your palms, forming halfhearted fists before you unfurled them, trying to cherry-pick the right words to get through this tinman’s head. “You have to realize that simply having a girlfriend is not enough for people to like you. It’s about talking you up, showing off your redeeming qualities. Getting people to understand Seungcheol the person, not Seungcheol the boss.”

“Are you proposing I have no redeeming qualities?”

“You were trying to use me as an excuse to avoid going to a company party. What were you going to do with that time on your own?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“This is exactly why you need my help, Cheol,” you reminded, feeling like you’re lecturing a cat about not scratching up the couch.

He gave a light grimace, “You don’t need to call me that childish abbreviation. I have a whole name.”

You leaned over from your seat, staring over at him wide eyes, fluttering your lashes and feigning a lovestruck grin. “I need to give you a nickname if we’re dating. What about Babe? Baby? Honey? Lover?”

“Seungcheol is just fine,” he answered, unaffected, not bothering to look past his laptop.

Your smile dropped in an exaggerated scowl as you pulled yourself back down, crossing your arms. “How have your other girlfriends dealt with you?”

Seungcheol suddenly had nothing else to say, his eyes started darting everywhere but you, leaning back against the booth and preoccupying his mouth with his scalding hot vanilla latte.

Your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously as the silence persisted and the click-clacking of his keyboard, “Seungcheol, you have dated before, right?”

His eyes flitted back to you like a flickering flame before it went out, directing themselves back to his laptop, typing away at something at a more urgent pace, or looking as if he did.

“Oh my god. You haven’t.”

“Silence,” he finally said.

“You…You haven’t been on a date with anyone? With a woman? Or even a man?”

He rolled his eyes, groaning under his breath. “Don’t make a scene.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured, “of course, I'm just very surprised…and confused. For 30 years of your life?”

“It was never something I prioritized.”

“Middle school. High school. College,” you began listing off.

“I went to an all boys school, and college does not leave much time for dating when you’re getting your Bachelor’s and Master’s.”

You waved your hands bizarrely. “So what? You worked your entire life?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmm.”

“What?”

Curiosity killed the cat, so the cat never came to know Seungcheol and apparently he never came to know the cat. “So if you’ve never been on a date, your intimate life…?”

He raised his brow, and sighed, realizing he was doing that a lot today. He closed his laptop, placing his hands neatly in his lap. “That goes without saying, but yes. I haven’t been intimate with anyone.”

“Right,” you responded, processing the information in real time.

“Are we done here? Is this game of 101 questions over with?”

“Just one more.”

“What?”

“What are you so big for then?” You asked earnestly.

His brows furrowed, before a subtle cocky smile crept against his face. “A healthy body in its top form is crucial for the average working man. It keeps my physical and mental health from deteriorating, and it’s the only way I can keep up with work, from carrying heavy work loads to travel. Aesthetics weren’t the goal, but thank you for noticing.”

“I didn’t compliment you for being big now, did I?”

Time running out on the clock, your meeting came to a close. You walked out together, keeping up appearances, and despite your protests, he started to hail you a taxi. You frowned as it arrived, seeing him open the door all gentleman like, but the stoic expression tattooed always on his face said otherwise.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not walking you to a bus stop, so take the cab. I’ll pay if you’re in dire need of financial assistance.” You had choice words to say on the tip of your tongue before he ushered you in the back seat, ducking his head in and tapping his card on the machine to pay. “Wherever she wants to go.”

Looking up behind the back of his head, you caught the sight of a few familiar faces, the same ones that you ran into yesterday with and quickly you suddenly found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso. He stiffed under your touch, his arms stuck up hovering above you inside the car. “What are you doing?” he questioned, tone cold.

“Don’t look,” you whispered, “but I see some of your coworkers. Just roll with it until they’re gone.”

Your chin settled into the crook of his neck, fastening yourself and determined to hold on until they were out of sight. Meanwhile, he stared down the slope of your spine, watching your hips shift to comfortably align with his, fitting yourself around his frame, and he helplessly took in your perfume wafting in his nose, noting its clean and pleasant scent. Before he realized, his arms rose, hovering around over your back and moving to close in to claim your warmth.

”Okay, it looks like they left.”

Instead, you released him with a light shove out of the car and patted him on the back before waving him off. He watched as it drove off, your hand waving back at him frantically before the car turned left at an intersection and disappeared on the road. From then, Seungcheol quietly returned to the office to organize his thoughts. Down the street, past the front desk, up the elevator, down the hallway, and entering his office. In all that time, he still could not make sense of what just happened.

But then again, he was learning that he didn’t make sense of a lot of things. Like company dinners, why did they matter?

In fact, Seungcheol had his gripes about company dinners. They were loud, rambunctious, and were centered around drinking until one needed their stomach to get pumped. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the occasional glass of whiskey and a fine wine, but that’s not what this was.

Tonight, he was surrounded by blue and green bottles, then silver and green cans, all mixed to create a revolting concoction that the team seemed to thrive on to make the night a tolerable one, but what would have made it tolerable for a certain office manager was his fake girlfriend. His eyes shifted from one side of the restaurant to the other, seeing each member of his department slowly loosening their reins as alcohol poured into their system, pinking their cheeks and slurring their words. He did not look forward to the kind of conversations spoken out of turn under the influence.

The manager had been offered a drink five minutes after his arrival, surprised at the minimal spillage with how much Chan’s hands were shaking as he held it with both hands. Nevertheless, he accepted with a wordless nod as the cup was set in front of him, another working man comfortably escaping the clutches of Manager Choi.

Seungcheol was beginning to get annoyed at your tardiness. First it was the initial meeting—the one he still hadn’t gotten over—but now this was the first official public outing. You never cease to amaze him with careless conduct, as if life didn’t have consequences. It was almost as if you never grew up. This was starting to feel like a mistake.

“There you are!” Warmth snaked around his neck and tucked around his chin as someone’s cheek flattened against his.

He didn’t have to look to know it was you; only you were brave enough to commit this far, but he had just as much of a reason to be convincing as you did. He slightly turned his head, a vision of you in his peripheral before you faced him with a grin. “I’m sorry I’m late, don’t be mad,” you lightly pleaded, jutting your lips in a pout.

“Where have you been?” he bluntly asked, hoping it sounded concerned. It did not.

Your pout sunk deeper and you took the empty seat beside him, tugging on his arm. “I told you not to get mad!”

“She’s real?”

“You owe me 50 bucks! Cough up!”

The voices were growing louder, more banter rising at your sudden appearance, and Seungcheol was starting to wonder why he ever wanted this attention in the first place.

“Is this for me?” you asked pointing at the horrid cocktail Chan placed in front of your fake boyfriend before he then covered the top with the back of his hand.

“You evaded my question.”

“I was getting ready and lost track of time. God forbid, I try to look nice for my boyfriend and the people he works with.”

He lightly scoffed, almost impressed with the girlfriend's act.

“So you’re really Mr. Choi’s girlfriend?” An employee you’ve yet to meet sitting across from you asked.

“Yes! Why is that so hard to believe,” you chuckled.

Soonyoung, well off his rocker and having already taken down a bottle or two of soju, was quick to intrude. “Well, because he’s terrifying.”

And not even a second after, his coworker–Seungkwan, if you recall correctly–clasped a hand over his mouth, his eyes growing wide as saucers before immediately clarifying. “He’s exaggerating! Mr. Choi just seems very…reserved and independent. Maybe too involved with his work?” The man trod lightly, lowering his gaze as Seungcheol shot his eyes back at him when he might as well shoot laser beams. Seungkwan felt them burn through his skull as he internally scolded himself, repeatedly tapping his mouth, for possibly speaking out of turn.

You nodded, pouring yourself a shot and following with a slice of beef off the grill. “It’s true. He’s a lunatic.”

The room went silent, all eyes falling on you as your words sunk in. The second hand fear was palpable, even Soonyoung began to sober up. Seungcheol scoffed, turning to the side as you enjoyed your free meal, not giving a second thought to your insult.

“I tell him he’s always in the office. Always, always! When is he gonna make time for anything else? He might die in that office one day,” you egged, taking another piece of meat followed by another shot.

The young man who introduced himself as Joshua tried his best to come to your rescue, “Miss, that might be–”

“It’s why I started visiting him during lunch. If I didn’t he would live off chicken, rice, and those disgusting whey shakes, wouldn’t he?”

Team member Jihoon chortled before immediately piping down when he saw Seungcheol’s quick side eye before the manager directed his attention back to you, who had a lot to say. The entire team stood, thinking their superior was seconds away from blowing up his shit in your face, they braced for impact. Instead, he rested his elbow on the dining table, rubbing his fingers to his temple, simply responding with, “You’re so loud.”

You pointed childishly, taunting him as if it was recess at a playground. “See, he doesn’t even have a comeback! He isn’t human.”

“Why did I invite you again?”

“Because I’m pretty and delightful?”

“No, seriously.”

Relief fanned out amongst the crew, and held breaths were released as chuckles and smiles took their place. They could breathe knowing that they had you to distract him, settling the nerves they had. Finally, most of them could find themselves enjoying the rest of the night and drinking all the soju and beer their hearts desired.

Throughout the evening, you and Seungcheol would bicker, picking each other apart like an old married couple as the rest watched, occasionally joining in when a common interest was brought up. You would usually engage as Seungcheol just quietly sat back listening, sometimes silently agreeing, learning more things about his employees this one night than the entire year he’s been manager. Seungcheol hadn’t experienced anything like this, or if he had, he didn’t remember.

“You’re enjoying this,” Seungcheol said under his breath, watching you finish a third lettuce wrap.

“I am,” you whispered, chuckling.

“This is the strangest combination I’ve ever seen, but it strangely works,” Jeonghan, one of the more honest members of the department, confidently stated.

Joshua joined in, agreeing. “They really compliment each other for some reason.”

“How did you two meet anyway,” Jihoon politely asked, “If you’re comfortable telling that story.”

You turned to Seungcheol, “You want to tell them or should I?”

He gave you a look, one that said, it’s your job, and you quickly got the hint.

He was prepared for some cliche, something dumb like out of a romance movie. What he didn’t expect was the next words to come out of your mouth.

“We actually are childhood friends.”

“You’re the same age?!”

That set them off. Suddenly flurries of grown adults gather around you to hear your story with their starry eyes, eating out of the palm of your hand with every word. It was a talent how you could lie, sprinkling in bits of the truth for authenticity, making every word that came out of your mouth sound like scripture. All while you tossed back soju shots and Seungcheol nursed a single beer in his hand.

“You’re like a movie, childhood rivals to estranged friends to lovers, wow. Lifetime would pay millions,” Chan gushed with red cheeks, covering his face with his palms.

Jeonghan suddenly pounced at an exciting idea. “Love Shot. Love Shot. Love Shot. Love Shot.”

They rest followed after him, chanting louder and louder. “Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot! Love Shot!”

Seungcheol shook his head. “No, no. We’re not doing that.”

The chants immediately faded out, only a whisper of its remains left in the form of a lost Soonyoung.

“Don’t take it personal, guys. He’s a lightweight. He’s had that beer since he came in and still hasn’t finished because we both know he’d be out like a light if he drank even half of it,” You taunted.

Seungcheol felt challenge brew within him, narrowing his eyes back at you. “Oh, yeah?”

“It’s okay, Honey, being a weak drinker doesn’t mean it's the end of the world.”

The office manager huffed, standing up slamming the metal dining table and startling everyone around him. “One of you, any of you, bring us some soju and two of the biggest glasses you have.”

Their feet scrambled, and demands were met. Your fake boyfriend smirked back at you as he started filling up your glass, pushing it toward you before he started filling up his.

“Lun-a-tic,” you sounded, claiming the glass.

You scooted closer holding the cups in the air before locking elbows and gazes. The glass pressed to your lips, the bitter liquid making it past your mouth and feeling it burn down your throat and then brewing something sinister in your gut, having you struggle to finish it. Meanwhile, your opponent drank his as if it was water, his eyes staring back at you in mockingly, grinning apparently despite his lips being preoccupied.

This little shit.

You both ended with a clean finish, slamming the cups on the metal surface, and you’re swarmed with cheers, reminding you that you had an audience. The heat was instantaneous, spreading all over you like fire, as your eyes grew heavy, the rush of cheeks becoming less coherent and just noise at this point of the night.

“Yeah, they definitely did taekwondo together.”

“I have never seen Mr. Choi that competitive before. He’s so cool!”

That last bit made Seungcheol snicker as he wiped the remaining alcohol off his lips, observing you as you uncharacteristically remained quietly seated with nothing else to say. “And I’m the lightweight? Can you even stand up right now?”

You gave him a mocking look, pulling yourself up from your seat and began doing all the sobriety tests you could possibly think of. From talking in a straight line to touching your toes, you made sure to do all the nine yards. After feeling like you succeeded (you didn’t), you then blew raspberries in his face until finally doing your perfect impression of a big buzzer. “Try again!”

Seungcheol fell off his chair laughing, face bright red in the matter of seconds, belly laughing and stunning everyone that was lucky enough to witness before he crawled up to get back in his chair. He pointed at you, still laughing, “You look so stupid!”

“Oh,” Minghao pointed at his superior’s face, “He has a dimple.”

“Nevermind that, he’s laughing.”

“Take a picture! Take hundreds of them!”

The rest of the night became a blur, a chaotic blur Seungcheol was probably better off not remembering, but all of the things he did remember made him feel warm. Or perhaps that was the alcohol lodged into his system. Company dinners can be alright. He probably won’t go to all of them, but one here and there wouldn’t hurt.

The next time Seungcheol felt awake was when he was in his bedroom, the sun peeking through the curtain as it beamed down on him. It was rare for him to wake up after the sun came up. “What the…”

He had no idea how he got home, pulling the covers off himself and immediately looking for his phone and found it conveniently plugged, and said that it was– “9:34. Fuck.”

"Rise and shine, sunshine,” you said bursting through the room, and Seungcheol immediately threw the covers back on, hiding his body as soon as he realized he looked the shittiest he’s ever looked. “How the fuck–why the hell are you in my apartment? How the hell are you in my apartment?”

“I took you home yesterday.”

“There’s a keypad!”

You giggled. “You put in the code for me. Drunk you is very nice.”

“You were drunk too!”

You clamped your hands over your ears. “Stop yelling, god. I sobered up hours before you did. Hangover still sucks though.”

“Still doesn’t explain how you found out where I fucking live.”

“The ID in your wallet, of course, which you should really be more careful about giving it to people when you’re drunk because, holy shit, I would've scammed you. What if it got into the wrong hands?”

“I’M LOOKING RIGHT AT THEM!”

“OW! Chill out. How are you not hungover right now?”

“I am, but–shit, none of this is making sense.”

“Well, while you have your mid-life crisis, I left a hangover cure and breakfast on your coffee table. Eat it, you’re going to want it. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you sleep here?”

You shrugged, “Oh the couch. It was like 2am and I was still tipsy, I wasn’t gonna go out there and become a statistic.”

“You just slept in a man’s apartment like nothing.”

“It’s your apartment. I’m fine.”

“Am I not a man?”

You rolled your eyes, waving him off. “You are hardly a human, iRobot. Now go eat. Oh, and remember next Sunday is my day, Carts and Tarts. Golfing and brunch with some of my college friends, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“What did I tell you about weekends?”

“Make an exception, yesterday went extremely well. I think everyone is warming up to you a bit more, and all you have to do is stand next to me. And maybe smile, but that's it!”

He groaned, throwing a pillow in his face, the migraines kicking in hard. “I feel like shit.”

“Which means it was a success! We’ll go over what you’ll be wearing and a bit of characterization over the week.”

“Characterization?” Seungcheol mumbled, the word foreign on his tongue.

“Enjoy your Saturday!”

Carefully, you walked out, closing the door behind you and hearing the automatic lock click in pace. You passed through his front lawn, making your way past his gates, and you took sight of his neighborhood–admittedly prettier in daylight– before heading down the sidewalk to hail a cab. Waiting for one to arrive, you marinated in what transpired the night before and the images played in your mind in full color, as if it happened just moments ago.

“Fuck, you’re huge.”

“You tol’ me ta’ already.” Seungcheol murmured as he buried himself into your shoulder, letting you drag him to the entrance of his residence.

“What’s your code?”

“Secret,” he giggled.

To which, you rolled your eyes. “You put it in then.”

You pushed him closer to the keypad, holding his wrist up to the screen and lifting up his head so he could see the numbers. His eyelids almost sunk to the bottom, but it was barely visible enough to make out what was in front of him. “Oh, I know this game, I’m good at games…”

“I’m sure you are, try this one out.”

His finger limply hovered over the keypad, giggling up a storm.“ 0…5…2…6.”

“You said it was a secret and said it out loud anyway, are you that drunk?”

“I win!”

“Oh, my god.” You rushed him inside, hoping none of the neighbors showed up or were nearby to have heard that, and scanned the perimeter for his bedroom. His instinct kicked in the second he entered inside, and he pulled away from you, taking himself upstairs.

“He’s gonna fucking kill himself.” You trailed behind him, on every step behind him, ready to catch him behind every tumble, and ensuring that Seungcheol in no way hurt himself as he made it up those steps.

As he finally reached the top floor, he turned the corner, entered a very obvious bedroom, and collapsed on the king-sized bed in the center. He laid sprawl, limbs spread wide like a starfish, and the biggest grin on his face that showcased his dimple gracefully embedded in his cheek.

You chuckled before dragging his body up the bed, urging him off the covers to usher him under. “Okay. I’m leaving now.”

You then turned away, about to leave when felt something wrap around your wrist pulling you near the bed.

“Don’t go.”

Your head back to see Seungcheol at the brink of tears, his features softening at the sight of you as he curled up into bed, sniffling. You dipped a little closer. “You don’t want me to leave?”

He shook his head, whining childishly, “Stay…”

He pulled you closer, now ushering you on the bed, and suddenly you were there together, him ready to sleep all tucked in, and you firmly sat because a grown man with the most heart wrenching puppy dog eyes asked you not to go.

So you stayed, just as he asked, and slept in the living room once he was sound asleep.

You smiled to yourself, regretful you didn’t take a picture or record a video of the incident. Although, if you did and he found out, he would’ve killed you. Or, you would’ve had some delicious blackmail material. The world may never know. You were just happy to know he still had that side to him. It was refreshing, and honestly, it made you a little hopeful.

Now you had to see if you could drag it out of him sober.

“Now to be the perfect boyfriend, my friend group has always said that the guy had to check at least five of these boxes.”

He looked back at you, not showing any interest in the matter while absentmindedly drinking his Americano that he used to hate, but he’s been enjoying a lot more lately thanks to you. “Is this all really necessary?”

You nodded determinedly. “You’re unlikable, and you need lessons. Yes, this is very important.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve received two good mornings today, and only five people decided to hide from me.”

“No one should be hiding from you,” you rubbed your chin in thought, “Sounds like you still need work. I might have to phase in a new method.”

“Excuse me, what new method would that be?”

“Never mind that. For now, Carts and Tarts. The girls have always said a guy needs five things: eyes, ears, mouth, heart, and…” Your gaze lowered to his nether regions, and Seungcheol did a double take, covering his privates with a pained expression.

“Those are just body parts, and have some decorum, would you?”

You pointed to the first box you needed checked. “Eyes: they need to be able to pay attention to you, notice things about you that you or other people wouldn’t otherwise see. To be loved is to be seen.”

Seungcheol listening to your reasoning and then mentally noting it for later. “Ah, and ears.”

“Listening to what you have to say. Being heard is just as important, but it doesn’t stop at hearing the words, it’s understanding the meaning behind them, which brings me to…”

“Mouth. To speak?” he easily guessed.

You nodded, passing him a cookie. “Ask questions. Learn why they’re happy, sad, angry, or anxious. Or even, include them in your conversations, sometimes they want to hear what you’re interested in. I think you’re getting where I’m going next.”

He took apart the cookie, breaking it in half, and passed it back to you. “Heart. Have a passion for something.”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. Sometimes it's a job, or a family, or a passion projection, but there needs to be ambition and drive, but most importantly and above all, they love you. If they love you enough, they can balance both. They should have something in their life besides you, but still love you, you know?”

Seungcheol was buffering a bit on that last one but he decided not to question it. “I’m assuming that last one has to do with coitus?”

Mid-chew of your snack, appalled enough to speak with it still in your mouth while spewing out its crumbs, “Why would you use that word?”

“I knew I would invoke an interesting reaction, but not cause an avalanche.”

You rolled your eyes, tapping your mouth with a napkin. “Everyone wants to have orgasms in their relationships, it’s at the top of their Christmas list. I’ve seen so many relationships get broken up because the sex sucked or someone has a weird kink–and I’m not kink shaming! Being weird can be cool.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said plainly.

“I’m just saying.”

“Never in my life did I expect this to be the topic of today’s meeting.”

You flatten your hands against the table, a satisfied smile on your face. “Well, now you understand. Try to pretend you're at least any one of these, and play up the boyfriend bit. You already know a little about me, just put it to good use.”

He observed you, studying your intent under the humor and lighthearted candor. “You really care a lot about this.”

“It’s just annoying how much they care about how much I'm getting laid. They’re a very large and very involved bunch.”

Seungcheol shut his eyes in disdain. “Why do they care?”

“Everyone is just either dating, married, or engaged. I'm the last person left, and I haven’t had a relationship that’s lasted more than three months. I just want them to lay off, make them think I'm dating someone with marriage in mind.”

“And when we don’t get married?”

You grinned, as if you have been waiting for this question to be asked. “I’ve curated a long 2-year plan to make us look like a committed couple. We fall in love passionately, so in love that we summer together and backpack over Europe, Asia, seeing all the great seas, seeing the world together…but then, I come back home, sad and single because even though you proposed and are desperately in love with me–”

“I think there are some plot holes–”

“You fall ill bitten by a radioactive spider exploring a jungle and pass away,” You concluded, exaggeratedly gasping into your hands.

“...isn’t that the plot to Madame Web?”

“You actually watched that?”

“You don’t know what I do on my weekends.”

“Watching awful movies is what it sounds like.”

He looked up to the ceiling, trying to visual all this together, as if any of this was remotely feasible. “We live in the same city, has it ever occurred to you that I could bump into any one of them?”

You shrugged, “Easy. You turn around and run in the other direction.”

“Your plan is horrendously flawed.”

“You wanna get married then?”

“Where’s the spider? I can get a headstart.”

“Just be a good little boyfriend.”

Seungcheol tsked.

“What?”

He looked off at the window, noticing that it was going to rain soon. Things needed to pick up if he wanted to get back to the office dry. “I just wouldn’t have thought that you of all people would cater to a society that cared about something superficial like having a boyfriend.”

Your smile faltered. “Well, a lot has happened in 20 years. And who says I’m catering to anyone? Ever consider maybe…forget it.”

He narrowed his eyes, challenge burning through them, “What? Finish your thought.”

“We’re done here. Just come on Sunday, follow the dress code, and don’t be yourself,” and with that you threw your tote over your shoulder and walked out, not bothering to wait for him to trail after you, hailing a cab on your own accord.

The rest of the week you would make your lunch ‘dates,’ but it would be mainly for show, having you only swirling your straw in your drink as you moped, halfheartedly being present for most of the time. Usually, Seungcheol would appreciate silence, but from you, it was deafening, even with the background noise of the cafe.

He pretended not to notice, sitting in silence with you, but he’d occasionally look up, seeing you glued to your phone, only interacting with him when it came to what they were contractually obligated to do for one another. He should’ve been pleased, yet, he was dying to talk to you.

Sunday finally came around and unfortunately, your bad mood had traveled with you, even in your cute little tennis skirt get-up you had been looking for the opportunity to wear. At least, Seungcheol had made the effort to look the part for the day. That morning you met, and he surprised you with his cooperation by looking like every country club asshole you've ever met, down to the pristine khakis and golf shoes with matching socks. You wondered if he bought that before the plans were set in motion, or if he already had it lying around. Either way, he looked convincing enough to persuade a few friends.

“Good job,” you whispered halfheartedly.

“How long do we have to be here?” He mumbled under his breath, cutting into his spinach omelet after forgoing all the possible carb options, just like you expected him to.

“Two hours, tops. Just watch them get a couple swings in and we can excuse ourselves after, say we have another thing we gotta go to.”

You were then greeted by a familiar voice, beckoning you from the other end of the table. Her eyes were bright and perfectly cat eyed, lips pink and glossy, but her voice was mature and curious, dying to pull the information she could out of you. “So, how did you two come to know each other?”

Chaeyoung had always been an instigator, asking the pressing questions and demanding answers. It was natural for her as a news investigator, and she was the one who insisted your new boyfriend come to initiate him into their pack. This happened to be the first time you accepted her challenge, earning her intrigue, and like she did with all your boyfriends she’s had the pleasure–or more often displeasure than not–of meeting, she had to get the rundown. And she would do whatever she could to get it.

You cleared your throat, wiping your lips with a tablecloth. “Well—“

“Not you, darling, let’s hear it from Seungcheol.”

He hadn’t prepared for this, snapping his head at you a glint of panic was in his eyes. You grinned over at Chaeyoung, holding onto Seungcheol’s hand that rested on the table. “Don’t go interrogating my boyfriend, he just got here.”

“Well, it’s only fair to tell his version while he's here. There’s never been a gathering as big as this with your other boyfriends. He has to be special if you brought him here today.”

“Chaeyoung—“

“I can tell the story,” Seungcheol finally reassured.

You looked at him confused then bewilderment, fearing the words that come out of his next could be the end all be all of this entire charade.

You had to stop him before he ruined this. “Cheol—“

“She came crashing into my life, and I haven’t known peace since.”

If your eyes bulged any bigger, they would be falling out of your head. “I—“

“Really?” Chaeyoung’s interest got piqued, leaning in closer as the everyone else at the table lowered their voice, hoping to listen in. “How so?”

“We had met before. A long, long time ago, and I couldn’t fathom her existence in the slightest. She was a mind bending whirlwind, like no one else I’ve ever met before, and I couldn’t get her out of my head. That period of our lives we spent almost every waking moment with each other, telling each other things that we promised not to tell anybody else. Like an oath. And then all of a sudden, one day, we lost contact. No calls, no letters, no voicemails. We didn’t speak to each other for years until…,” he turned to you, a subtle softness in his eyes that only you could barely recognize under that cold, stiff exterior. “We passed by each other at a cafe near my office. I didn’t know what to think of it first…but she called it fate.”

He turned back to everyone, and they all just stared, peering at the newcomer as if he was a saint dropped from the sky, while the women at the table swooned after listening to his story, clinging onto his every word.

“Men like him do exist…” Yeri said dreamily, ignoring her longtime boyfriend, who at the moment was scarfing down his fifth quiche.

You were shell shocked, jaw actually dropped slack until Seungcheol stuffed an egg tart in it, occupying your mouth to avoid suspicion.

“And he’s feeding her. Why don’t you feed me?!”

“Dammit, they’re adorable.”

You weren’t sure who you were sitting with anymore. The fake boyfriend you hired was a calculating, condescending, arrogant prick that relied on you to make him look good. How was he doing a better job than you?

“Do you golf, Seungcheol?” Baekho inquired, warming up to him after hearing the sweet fable. “If so, we have to see your swing.”

He replied back with a shrug, “I’ve dabbled, although I was going to take it easy today.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder. “This one isn’t sure how long we can stay.”

You glared at him, how dare he push the blame on you. You looked back at Baekho apologetically. “We had a prior engagement. I’m sorry. I mixed the dates up and couldn’t cancel on either one of you.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t mean you can’t play. Just a round, what do you both say?”

Seungcheol looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and you truly do not know how to approach it in the slightest.

“Okay, I guess a round can’t hurt.”

Baekho along with many other guests lit up in excitement. “Well, what are we waiting for? On the field, we go!”

Several members of the brunch got a head start on the field, taking their clubs and carts as they started heading off the first hole. Meanwhile, Seungcheol pulled you aside, seeing that you were both alone with no one else to eavesdrop. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“What? It’s one round.” You shrugged. “A game can’t be that long.”

A pained expression struck his face, wrinkles forming on his forehead as he tightly shut his eyes. “Have you ever played golf?”

“No, I was never interested in it.”

“Jesus—do you see how big this field is? An average game of golf is four hours, sometimes more.”

Your eyes were about to shoot out of their sockets like any of the golf balls on the field. “Four hours?!”

“Yes, and you just,” he sighed, “Come on.”

He took you by your hands, noticing them covered in a pair of gloves before dragging you to your designated cart. “Why the hell do you own golf gloves if you don’t golf?

“I thought today was the day I’d start,” you cried, nearing the verge of tears as you came to the realization of the eternal hell you’ve subjected yourself to.

And Seungcheol did not lie, it felt as if it would go on forever. As everyone was putting, the sun was beaming down on you, slowly but surely killing your will to live. At this point, you welcomed it. You already started to envy the ice in your lemonade that melted, seeing it was given the mercy of peace from this endless boredom. You weren’t used to being outside for this long. During these brunches, you would be inside in the spa by now with mud baths, not getting ready to be spattered in mud puddles when a ball hits water.

“Fore!”

“Just let the ball hit me right at the temple, right here,” you quietly mumbled from your golf cart, watching Baekho in front of you take a swing as a couple of other members of the brunch spectated from behind.

Seungcheol reunited beside you, taking a swig of his water bottle and sweating after swinging a few times around the field. “I guess this counts as my workout for the day.”

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” you responded sarcastically, numb to all feelings.

He leaned over the golf cart, arms over the cart roof. “You had every opportunity to say no.”

“And I didn’t, okay? You gonna rub it in my face?”

He grinned, that dimple you once found cute growing increasingly irritating. “Potentially.”

“You’re actually having fun, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, not denying it. “Golf is entertaining on occasion, and it’s true I didn’t plan on playing, but it’s kind of nice to be playing with a group this big. It used to be just me and father.”

“He taught you how to play?”

“He thought it was good to teach about control. It forced me to utilize the amount of strength and helped me understand optimal angles. Once you master that, you can get closer to reaching your optimal target. He said that’s just about all you need to be the person you want to be in life.” Although he sounded as if he spoke fondly, a storm brewed in his gaze, one that it seemed like it would persist if you pressed on any further.

“Wow…somehow you made golf even more boring.” You stepped off the cart, stretching your legs and bending your knees to make sure they don’t give out on you in pins and needles. “I might go back to the club house. Get something more to eat, catch the news, learn about some new propaganda, anything but this really.”

His gaze pulled up behind, staring past your head at coming towards you both, eyes widening in fear. “Look out!”

His arms wrapped around you, clutching your body before he tore you away from the ground beneath you, and shielded you from the incoming impact. Your face buried in his chest, hearing the deafening screech of wheels scraping the grass as it dug into a puddle conveniently in front of you both and just in the way of the vehicle gone rogue, splashing mud water onto whoever was nearby.

“Oh shit, my bad!” Beomgyu, the cart boy and designated driver of the vehicle, said quickly before driving off.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, pounding against his as it raced at the same erratic pace. Your bodies intertwined with one another, his caging yours like a momentary safe haven. He pulled back you to level with him, feeling his firm grip hold you steady. “You okay?” Seungcheol asked, scanning you over.

You panted softly, your breath caught in your throat, since you were still in shock from the near collision that had just happened before calmly nodding. He looked you over, dusting any dirt and debris off of you, and he finally let you free once he was sure for himself you were fine. “You should’ve just stayed on the cart. That could’ve gotten really bad,” he scolded, pushing your golf cap over your eyes.

“Hey! Oh my god! What happened?”

Your friends rushed over after seeing the scene, prodding you with concerning questions to which you answered with ‘I’m fine’s and ‘okay’s. However, amongst the noise, you finally took notice of Seungcheol, specifically, the aftermath of the incident and his clothes stained in murky brown specks and splotches.

“Your clothes…” you pointed out with a guilt ridden face.

He shook his head reassuringly, “I’ll change once I get home.”

“Nonsense,” Minhyun retorted, “Grab something from the merch shop. Complimentary of course.”

“I appreciate it,” Seungcheol nodded, “I do think I’ll have to take her back home. I don’t know if I can keep playing after that just happened.”

“Of course! We understand,” Junhui agreed, looking toward you empathetically. “Make sure she’s okay, and take care, kid.”

“Thank you,” Seungcheol said, finally getting on the cart and driving off the field. It wasn’t until you were halfway across the field that you realized what he had managed to do in the matter of seconds you had. You pivoted your head to him, seeing that the concern that was once on his face melt into his default expression, phlegmatic with a hint of arrogance.

“You evil genius.”

Seungcheol smirked, looking at you through his peripheral vision. “‘Strike the iron, while it’s hot,’ I believe the saying is called.”

You made a visit to the merch shop as Minhyun suggested and met with the shopkeeper about getting their signature embroidered shirt with the country club's logo on the breast. He welcomed you, saying he was expecting you both after getting a call, but apologizing for the limited sizes. It was out of both your hands at that point, so you accepted it, handing Seungcheol off the medium and hoping for the best.

“I think this room is good.” You looked for an empty multipurpose for him to change into after seeing all the bathrooms nearby were closed for maintenance. The efforts to go further across the club for other bathrooms wasn’t worth the trouble, so this seemed to be the next best thing.

He followed after you, holding the shirt and walking in nonchalantly as you tried to quietly close the heavy door shut. He peered over at you, watching you behave strangely suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“Closing the door!” you shout-whispered. “What if people see us sneaking around and think we’re doing something indecent?”

“You think shutting the door quietly and whispering makes us look any better?” he asked in a normal volume.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you respond in your normal volume.

He rolled his eyes before pulling the bottom of his shirt up and over his head, seeing every inch of his abdomen: every muscle, every curve, and every vein.

“Woah,” you quickly turned around. “Just couldn’t wait to get your clothes off in front of me, could you?”

He scoffed, putting his dirty shirt aside before picking up the new one. “Why’d you turn around? Nothing you’ve never seen before, I’m sure.”

“Did you just slut shame me while you’re the one taking your clothes off? The gall!”

He pulled his newly acquired shirt over his head, feeling it hug his body as he stretched out the fabric. “You can look now.”

You spun back, seeing that the shirt they’ve got might have been a tad smaller than they anticipated, compressing against him to the point that his muscles bulged at the seams, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. He might as well not have worn a shirt at all. “That might be a bit small on you,” you stiffly pointed out.

“Well, it’s all we have.” He looked in the reflection in the mirror placed on the wall, unfortunately agreeing with you, checking himself in the mirror and already feeling it start to chafe.

“I’m surprised you did that today,” you brought up. “The speech, then the crazy save, wow.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, so was I. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. How did you improv all that so quickly?”

He shrugged, attempting to stretch the fabric even a little bit, hoping it wouldn't tear. “I didn’t really. I just said how I felt.”

“Wait, really?”

He slightly turned his head. “Yes. Like how I couldn’t fathom how someone as insane and careless as you existed.”

You clenched your teeth, knitting your eyebrows together, “You fu-“

“Or when I couldn’t get you out of my head. It’s true, I made it my life’s mission then to beat you at every taekwondo match possible.”

“I hate you so—”

“And you said it was fate, not me, so technically I didn’t even lie.” He turned back, walking back to you, “Then again, omission is a form of lying on its own. You would know since lying to my employees is like an Olympic sport to you.”

Your nose scrunched, displeased. “Your welcome, whatever. We fooled them. Good work. That will keep them off my back for a couple weeks.”

He clapped his hands. “Good, sounds like my work is done.”

“Ha. For now. Your end though, still requires a lot of work. Look forward to that overtime.”

That’s where phasing the new method came in. It was a risky move that you had your doubts about, but considering the trauma bonding that fine Sunday, you were sure Seungcheol could warm up to the idea. However, it couldn’t work if he knew it was happening, that’s why he had to go in blind.

[part 2 immediately found here]

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