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bl3edingp1nk · 10 days ago

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CHAPTER ONE: The 𝘰𝘯𝘦 Word Count: 1214

Sometimes the thought of love can be suppressed by the reality of one's incapability to believe it is possible and not a fictional fairy tale people proclaim happens. This is why manifesting love can be considered as a false area that younger generations tend to believe in. Confidence, hope, signs are things one can have, but still fall for the wrong person. This must be what Nobara felt, her body laid helplessly on the ground while groaning endlessly, gradually provoking Maki to respond with a kick to Nobara's legs. Nobara had just ended things with a man she truly believed was the one or at least she felt it, something tied to spirituality, alignment, maybe even manifestation.

"I met him on the twenty-second of February. According to Mai, it is linked with higher probability of successful romance." Nobara winced, both her hands pressing aggressively on her face before she shook her body in a worm-like motion.

Already aggravated, Maki dropped her foot from the couch and gave Nobara a push with it, nudging her forward. "From Mai who commits regular fraud, you might as well have walked into a jail cell and asked someone for dating advice"

"You lost me there." You finally said, pushing your body off the chair as you walked around the table to the refrigerator to find a cold drink. "I think she meant, this was expected if you took Mai's romantic advice seriously. For all you know, she would have googled that information and fed it to you."

"February twenty-second is symbolic." Nobara insisted, lifting her head slightly. "It's about partnership, harmony...it's a powerful day for manifesting love." Her gaze shifted between you and Maki, clearly unimpressed by your skepticism. "Love is spiritual. You just...feel it. You know that person is the one."

Maki let out a scoff, wrapping her arms around one knee. "That's a beautiful idea twisted into something depressing. Love isn't a magical moment dictated by a date–it's about compatibility, yes, but also mutual respect and effort. It is not blind faith decorated in emotional aesthetics."

You stared at her in confusion while drinking out of a cold water bottle, an eyebrow raised before you realized what she meant. "Oh. Yeah. What she said." Was all you could say before shoving the water bottle back into the refrigerator. You could practically feel Maki's stare searing into the back of your skull.

The thought of love and "the one" never stood out to you in particular because there were many things you thought were amazing and others don't, which is fine, it shapes each of us.

However, even with that open mindedness, trusting in others perspectives of what love is leads to far more wrongs than rights in relationships because they themselves can fall for the wrong man, woman, person despite their preaching.

Just fall in love and respect yourself, whatever comes with it is up to you. But, how would you know? The only relationship you had crumbled because you convinced yourself that the person you loved did not change until it became something you could not ignore.

Maybe love is real. Maybe it's spiritual. But the first person you have to respect in love is yourself.

　　　 ﹒　　　　　　 ♡

"Y/N, are you listening?" Nobara's voice broke you out of your daze, motioning for you to come sit beside her, a smug-like expression appearing on her face. "We have an idea."

You raised a brow as she glanced at Maki for backup. Maki had shifted into a more relaxed sprawl on the couch, her legs tucked under a blanket, head resting on a heart-shaped pillow with her usual look of faint disdain.

"We?" Maki asked, glancing back and forth between you and Nobara before tilting her head slightly to the left. "I never..." Pause. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

Ignoring Maki's clear refusal, Nobara grabbed her laptop from the corner of the room, scooting over to where you sat on the floor, and proceeded to open the laptop to the website containing names of people who worked at the company both of you worked for, counting Maki's part-time commitment.

Nobara didn't speak. She didn't have to, her eyes did the work, piercing into yours with unspoken intent. "No. We are not doing this again."

Too late. She grinned like a kid unwrapping chaos. "Maki, paper."

Maki groaned, but tossed over a blank sheet anyway. Nobara turned back to you, placing both hands on your shoulders with a disturbingly giddy expression.

"It is a tradition," she declared. "A sacred pact we, yes we, agreed to follow every time someone in the group has a relationship meltdown."

You cringed.

This all started back in high school– Nobara's infamous Megumi rejection. What should've been a minor blip involved her brainchild: the Kiss List. By university, it had spiralled into a full-blown Potential Baby Daddy Roster to help her "realign perspective." It was chaotic. It was cathartic. And somehow, it worked. It made you consider burying Mai alive before Maki for bringing this cursed tradition back into your life before Maki got the chance to do it first.

Despite your resistance, you surrendered and ended up participating in the "potential who is gay for each other" list involving people who worked in the same company as you did. This was an opportunity to get back at a lot of employers who annoyed you or looked at you weird. With the consumption of alcohol, Nobara came up with the idea of creating a voting list instead, putting each employee into categories. Your personal favourite: "Most Likely to Make Out", which featured none other than Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. Naturally, Gojo was labelled "omega" and Geto the "alpha." It was ridiculous, borderline delusional, but it made you laugh.

"You are still not over him, y/n?" Maki wondered, swirling the wine glass that was in her hand while leaning forward towards you.

You didn't answer right away. Your eyes wandered to the skyline just beyond the penthouse windows, silver buildings blinking against the indigo night. It really was a beautiful view. Then you sighed, leaning on your wrist with a look of contempt. "Ew. Don't say it like that. It sounds like we were involved or something."

Maki chuckled before putting down Yuta Okkotsu under the category she created. "Most likely to get pegged." Staring at what she had written, a smirk grew on your face before you nodded. "Rich, privileged scumbags deserve to be humbled."

"You sound like a sad loser right now." Maki said, putting the pen down, her eyes staring down at Nobara who was passed out drunk on the marble dining room table before staring back up at you.

"Better than a corrupted loser." You mumbled, scribbling Gojo's name around the list with the word corrupt attached with it alongside some random insultive names, a grin on your face from the satisfaction it gave you.

"You're still Vice-president, that is something worth celebrating."

But it didn't feel like enough. Not really.

Not when you knew the only reason you weren't president was because you lacked the right connections. Not when a blue-eyed freak with hair shaped like a sucked mango seed stood where you should've been. Slumping back onto the couch and staring up at the ceiling, you fell into a deep thought.

Being Vice President still felt like losing.

CHAPTER TWO: Monday 𝐦𝐚𝐝ness Word Count: 1046

9:30.

You blinked at the clock, still groggy from sleep, jolted awake by the thunderous pounding of feet against the floor and the sound of panicked voices. Through the blur of half-open eyes, you stared at the numbers, trying to focus. Meanwhile, Nobara and Maki rushed in and out of the rooms like a scene from a disaster movie. Then it hit you. Oh, bloody hell. You were late.

"Have you seen the collaborative program with Vox+Vision contract that I mentioned yesterday?" Nobara yelled from the bathroom, her voice echoing down the hallway towards both you and Maki.

You stumbled off the couch and hit the floor face first, barely registering the pain before scrambling to your office. Purse. Pen. Phone. Wallet. Keys. What else? Mind spinning, you wandered into the living room just in time to see Maki placing the contract papers Nobara had been searching for neatly on the dining table. Without missing a beat, she dashed toward the front door to grab her shoes.

"Nobara! The contract papers are on the dining room table," Maki called, slipping on the sleek black heels and swinging her purse over one shoulder and grabbing her coat from the hanger with practiced ease.

You dashed across the apartment, stepping over furniture as you raced from the bathroom to your bedroom. Spotting Maki by the door, you shouted, "Maki–your glasses!" before disappearing into your room again. She wasn't blind without them, but Maki without her glasses was like a knight without armour or, in her case, without her second safety tool. The first? Her trusty pocket knife.

"Thanks!" she shouted back, slamming the door behind her, leaving both you and Nobara scrambling like fish out of water.

You flung your closet doors open, eyes locking on an outfit before your brain had time to weigh the fashion consequences. A brown suit–not your favourite–with wide-legged trousers and a crisp white blouse underneath a tailored jacket that showed a hint of your collarbone. Not really the vibe you had for Monday, but it would have to do.

"Y/N, you have five minutes." Nobara shouted from the kitchen, the shrill whistle of the kettle rising behind her as she hunted for an easy breakfast before heading into the lion's den (AKA the office).

You responded with an okay while heading back into your bathroom, faced forward towards the mirror as you adjusted your hairstyle. Your blowout from a few days ago had puffed into an untameable cloud. Grabbing the nearest gel–Eco Gel, not great, but it'd do– you slicked your hair back into a bun, typing it down with a scarf to lock the hairstyle in shape.

You grabbed your makeup bag and left the bathroom, heading into the living room just as Nobara tossed a mug of coffee your way.

"I was not counting, if that is what you're asking." Grinning, Nobara took her work bag, the contract papers on the dining table were gone, thankfully she hadn't forgotten them. "You look nice for a hangover slug."

"That is not a compliment." You responded, stuffing your makeup bag into your purse and slipping into your white heels at the door. "Did you remember everything?"

"I hope so. I don't think I can handle another brainless question this morning." Nobara answered, pressing her finger on her temple before giving you a weak but genuine smile.

Nobara was always stunning, but somehow, the post-drunk haze made her glow even more. She stood beside you in the doorway, dressed in soft pinks. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, secured with a white slip. A blouse covered in delicate flowers peeked out from under her matching pink jacket. Her skirt was the same shade of rose, paired with white tights and pink heels, with her makeup tying the whole look together effortlessly.

　　　 ﹒　　　　　　 ♡

"Hey, punching is considered assault, so please, try not to hit anyone today" You said with a smile, pushing the apartment door open with one hand while the other held your coffee cup. Your purse swung loosely from your arm, balanced with unbelievable ease. Nobara forced a thin-lipped smile as she stepped past you.

"If the fist fits," she mumbled, then bolted down the hallway toward the elevator, leaving you to lock up behind her.

Once the door clicked shut, you power-walked down the hallway, offering polite smiles to the other residents you passed. The elevator dinged open. Inside, you took a sip of your coffee and immediately regretted it. The sugar rush aggressively smacked you like a piece of brick.

It was offensively sweet, the kind of drink that could send someone into anaphylactic shock just from a sip alone.

As the elevator door opened to the apartment parking lot, you spotted Nobara's car screeching to a stop in front of you. She sat in the driver's seat, slamming her head against the steering wheel, producing a honking noise.

"We're late. The meeting has already started–move, Y/N, move!" Nobara flung the passenger door open, allowing you to climb in. Barely seated, Nobara slammed on the accelerator and sped off onto the street.

The ten-minute drive felt like five. You touched up your makeup in the passenger mirror, applying only the essentials: lipstick, blush, and eyeliner. Thankfully, your lashes were already done, saving precious time.

Finally, you arrived at Siren Syndicate–the agency that represented musicians, actors, and rising stars. The valet staff met you outside, assisting with handling Nobara's car. Climbing out of the car, you left the cursed coffee behind in the cupholder as you and Nobara rushed into the building.

The meeting room was conveniently located on the first floor of the building, tucked away behind a few locked doors. This allowed you and Nobara to speed walk past the doors, rushing towards the entrance of the meeting room.

"You ready?" you asked, breathless.

Nobara nodded nervously, then pushed the door open. The two of you slipped inside. Luckily, they were still going over background information on the upcoming contracts, meaning your absence hadn't derailed anything.

Crisis averted.

Or so you thought.

You slid into your seat, adjusted your posture and looked up– –only to lock eyes with someone already watching you.

Bright blue eyes. Focused. Irritated.

And very aware of your late entrance.

Shit.

@7zu700

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