Roses and Peonies CL16 - Oneshot
Pairings: Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader
Summary: When it was announced that bts will do their military service soon, y/n was scared to be left alone. She's scared that the world that she had known before will change, leaving her drowning in her loneliness. That is until she met a man with warm green eyes and dimpled smile.
Words: 14.2k
Masterlist
It was a beautiful scene. More beautiful that anything that she had ever seen before.
Of thousands of stars like lights flashing around them. Of the adoring cheers and devotions that’s being thrown towards their way.
Of the love, that they could fell reverberating all across the stadium.
Y/n thinks that she wants to live like this forever. To savor this moment and make sure that it will last until the end of time. Of these beautiful lights and firework. Of these adoring chants and confession of devotions. Of this very moment.
She doesn’t want to forget it.
She wants to make this last.
And then, everything stopped.
.
Honestly, when it was decided that the boys are going to do their mandatory military service, y/n found herself a bit at a loss.
Her family knows it. The members know it. Heck, even the company knows it.
It makes sense after all. She had dedicated more than ten years of her life for the band. All of her youth and early twenties had been solely focused on bts and bts only. To make sure that the band stays together. To make sure, that the band will keep becoming bigger and bigger. Reaching new heights together.
Y/n didn’t regret it. How could she?
After all, those ten years were the highlight of her life. All the bitter memories from her trainee days became something fond to look back to. All of the sweat and tears that she had shed during her days as bts became rows of achievements and beautiful memories. It was amazing, the most beautiful moments of her life.
It almost made her forget that everything in this world will come to an end. The laughs that they shared, the group hugs, as well as the cheers from their fans. A bittersweet feeling always swells up inside of her chest at the mere thought.
Life as a celebrity will only treat you good when you’re still young. That statement is even more true in the idol industry where youth and visuals reign supreme over anything. Even bts – with all of their achievements, all of the things that they had contributed to South Korea – will became the victim of this statement sooner or later.
Yoongi-oppa had always said that he doesn’t want them to crash landed when they’re at the top. He wants them to land slowly but surely. A safe landing point that marks the end of their career as a musician in the future.
(It’s terrifying. Y/n is scared.)
She knows that there’s nothing forever in this world. And yet, when she realized that the members will be doing their military service soon – leaving y/n alone – she finds herself to be at lost.
“Maybe it’s time for you to find a boyfriend,” said Namjoon-oppa, leaning back on the sofa in front of her. There’s beers and other alcoholic drinks in front of them. She thinks they’re already drunk at this point, but trust Namjoon-oppa to still be able to give her advice despite his own state of drunkenness.
Y/n laughed. “You’re crazy,” she said, nestling his head on one of the many pillows located in the older’s studio. “Dating scandal is a death sentence.”
“We’re already in our 10th year,” shrugged the male. “It would be inhumane if we never experience the joys of love.”
The female fell silent at that.
She knows that the other members had their own fair share of love story. Discreet ones that they had never dare to publicized. After all, a dating scandal is something major in the South Korean entertainment industry. You can end your career just for falling in love. Even bts, the biggest Asian act that had ever came out in the past decade, is not an exception to that fact. A harsh reality for them who is part of this toxic cycle.
To y/n, she had avoided it like it’s a plague. Her presence in bts had been controversial enough. She doesn’t want people to say that she’s fucking the members – people who are like her own siblings – behind the scenes. There are already enough talks about that. If she ever gets caught up in a dating scandal?
It will not only be the end of her career. But also, bts.
Though, listening Namjoon-oppa tonight, it really seems as if it’s a good idea. She’s already entering her 10th year as an idol. She had many accomplishments, making South Korea proud and breaking records with every release.
Maybe, just maybe, falling in love with someone is not a death sentence.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for her to learn to live like a human and not the entertainment industry doll.
“Do you really think that that’s a good idea?” she asked after a moment of silence. “I don’t want to inconvenience you or the other members…”
Namjoon-oppa actually let out a laugh at that. “All of us had dated anyone before,” he said, taking a gulp from the alcohol on his glass. “Is that an inconvenience to you?”
“No,” she replied almost immediately, mind recalling all the people that had come and go over the years. Some are celebrities some are not.
“See?” said the male. “The same thing will also be applied to us.”
Y/n nodded, nursing the glass that she’s holding. She’s still a bit hesitant. Finding love had never been her priority, considering how busy she was. And to make finding love a goal during the band hiatus? Doesn’t it seem to be a bit too shallow?
The other members are preparing their solo album while here she is contemplating if she should date someone or not.
She can already see the media headlines.
Namjoon-oppa seems to have sensed her hesitancy because he decided to speak up again. “I know how you get when you’re feeling lonely, I’m just scared that when all of us leave for military… you won’t have your support system anymore.”
Ouch.
Though, isn’t that the truth?
Maybe it’s because for more than ten years, she had grown up with people around her. Her close siblings – even though they didn’t share a drop of blood – that had always been there for her. Her personal emotional babysitter. The people that she can always count on.
It seems a bit pathetic that her state of mental wellbeing is relying on 100% to these seven men. But these seven men are her best friends. The people that she’s closest to. Her soulmates.
Her soulmates, that’s going away for months.
“Maybe,” she finally said. “Maybe I will consider it.”
Namjoon-oppa let out a laugh at that.
.
Y/n l/n debuted under Bighit entertainment when she was 15, going 16.
A wide-eyed half foreign girl in the midst of the glitz and glamor of the kpop industry. A wide eyed and naïve girl being thrusted straight into fake Versace and the harsh entertainment industry without much of a preparation.
To be fair though, y/n thinks that no one can prepare enough things before they debuted.
It was a controversial debut back then. Still is even compared to today’s standard. For a girl to debut in a co-ed group where the remaining members are boys her age. Some had called it inhumane; some had called it insane; some had called it feeding off the female or even the male fantasy.
Even now, critics would always say that bighit is the only company to be ballsy and desperate enough to do that kind of thing. The company that was going bankrupt in 2013 and bet everything that they had to a controversial co-ed group without a clear future.
There are many nasty things being thrown around here and there back then. Insults to degrading remarks. Things that can make any newly debuted group to regret to ever stepped into the entertainment industry.
Bts initial concept too, didn’t help. Wannabe rappers, fake k-hiphop, weird band name, from the tamest insult to the most vicious ones, they had been called by it.
To y/n though, she would call it family.
After all, bts is the only thing that she could call as normalcy in her life. After her family moved from Italy to South Korea – the country where her mother comes from – she was immediately whisked into the grueling trainee life. She was never good at school to start with, making her job as a trainee her only focus.
It was then when she entered bighit entertainment, a small entertainment company. It was also then, that her life changed when she was being put into the debut lineup almost immediately.
Her life had always been consisted of bts and the members. The first thing that appeared inside of her mind when she starts her day is bts and the last thing that appeared inside of her mind before she went to sleep is bts. Always bts.
Many – even the members – had praised her dedication for the group. Saying that it’s good for her to consider the group as something so important that she puts it on top of her priority list. Y/n could agree on that. After all, she knows nothing but bts in her life. The group itself made her life to have a meaning. It made her to develop a sense of purpose in this world.
To make music.
To make music that can help people.
To make music, that people can lean on to during their hardest time.
Well, who would’ve thought that bts would become the world biggest group?
Certainly not her.
When bts took off internationally, it had been an almost surreal experience to them. After all, all they want is to win in a fucking Music Bank. Who would've thought that just two years after their first win, they would perform in the VMAs. Who would've thought that they're going to win billboard awards left and right?
And that had only been the start.
Stadium tours, multiple number one albums, multiple number one songs, the most famous people in the world.
Maybe that's why love had never been her priority. Besides the dating scandal thing, she had been way too busy for the past few years. She could barely saw her family, let alone thinking to start a relationship.
It was to the point that y/n genuinely thought that maybe love is just not for her.
That love, is not something that she can attain in this lifetime.
.
The meeting room is almost empty. Way emptier than usual.
Y/n sat there, legs crossed on top of the chair as she stared at her PR manager and manager going through some papers. She could hear some of the interns on the background, murmuring about something with hushed breath.
“Despite the band hiatus,” started her manager. “We’re going to start a lot of solo activity, especially for you.”
She ignored the weird feeling that appeared inside of her chest when she imagined doing her job alone. She ignored the emptiness that spread inside of her as she realized that there will be no more boisterous laughter and weird antics happening on the background.
She ignored the fear that appeared inside of her at the mere thought of being alone.
She ignored all of that as she nodded her head. “Yes,” said the female. “I understand.”
.
At the start of December, she went to Paris.
It’s her first solo schedule. The company told her that she’s going there to shoot promotions and campaigns for Prada. It’s a big deal, as she was set to become their newest global ambassador. After the announcement of their hiatus, many brands had contacted her, offering her the position of global ambassador.
She guesses it was for the fact that she’s not tied exclusively with bts anymore. That in order to sign her, the brands don’t have to sign the band anymore.
Bitter, she thought as she read the contract over and over. There’s an odd feeling that rose up inside of her chest as she stared at her name. Only her name and devoid of the other members.
Kim Namjoon
Kim Seokjin
Min Yoongi
Jung Hoseok
Park Jimin
Kim Taehyung
Y/n L/n
Jeon Jungkook
Only her name.
She signed it, heart aching inside her chest.
There’s not much going on over the signing of the contract and the shoots itself. She was told on things that she must do and what not. The clothes that she should be wearing during her promotions, as well as the events that she must attend during her stay in Paris.
The event that she’s attending tonight is one of them.
It’s a charity ball meant for the wealthy and famous. The event itself was held to raise money to help the art and sport sector, a good goal if the money will actually be given to struggling artist and athletes, not those who comes from privilege.
But she can’t comment on that.
“A lot of executives will be there,” informed her manager as he draped a jacked over her bare shoulder when they exit their hotel. Flashes of camera immediately appeared as yells and screams could be heard all around them. “Directors, CEOs, star athletes.”
Y/n let out a hum at that, processing that information internally.
It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the five-star hotel where the event is being held. And as expected, there are so many rich and famous people in the venue. People that y/n had worked with the previous years, people that is working with her, to the people that wants to work with y/n in the future.
“I saw your billboard near the Louvre, it was phenomenal!”
“I heard that your band is breaking up? If you’re interested my next movie-“
“The met gala is happening in May and-“
She was far too exhausted to plaster a genuine smile. The jet lag catching up to her and all the pent up stress that she had harbor for the past few weeks continue to pile inside of her. So many faces and so many names to remember, it made her dizzy for a bit.
Maybe that what guides her to the bar, desperately searching for a bit of an alone time during the hustle and bustle of the party. She didn’t even remember how many designers and actors had given her their personal contact. No doubt salivating at the thought of finally having y/n l/n work for them, not as a group. But individually.
Manicured nails tapped the bar softly as she watched the bartender made her order. From the corner of her eyes, she could see other people eyeing her, no doubt wanting to make conversation.
She really should get going from here before-
“Rough night?” asked a voice besides her.
Ah, too late.
Turning her head, her eyes met warm green ones. A man, maybe around her age, with dark hair and dimpled smile was staring at her. He’s wearing a suit, a clear indicator that he’s also part of the exclusive guest list.
Handsome, thought y/n idly, eyeing the man in front of her. He certainly fit the conventional standard of beauty for men from his large eyes to charming smile. But she’s standing in a room full of celebrities. Everyone is good looking here.
“You can say that” she said, smiling a bit to hide her uneasiness. “I was just a bit overwhelmed.”
The guy laughed at that. “I can certainly relate to that,” he said. She realized there’s a hint of accent on his English.
“Oh, you’re French?” asked the female after realizing.
“Monegasque actually.”
Y/n hummed. “I never met a Monegasque before.”
“Well, there’s not a lot of us around,” he answered cheekily. The bartender appeared, giving her, her drink. “So, what brings you here tonight?”
It was such a cliché line that she almost snorted. There’s no reason to ask what brings her here tonight because it’s the same reason why the guy is even here. It’s obvious that they were invited to this gala in order to make this charity event look more glamorous. To paint them in a better light as someone who likes to donate and gives back to the poor.
“The same reason as you?” said y/n, leaning forward towards the bar. “Trying to find someone who is alone at the bar and flirt with them?” It was supposed to be a sarcastic reason, a sign for the male that she’s not interested.
Though, instead of being offended, he took it as a good humor as another round of laugh erupted from him. “Am I? flirting with you?” he said, tilting his head.
The female stared at him, blinking. “Are you not?” she asked as if she was stating the obvious.
“Well, I am,” he said with a grin. She can’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at that, giving the warm green orbs a more welcoming look. “You have a nice set of eyes; do you know that? I can probably get lost in them.”
That flirting is way too corny and old school that she can’t help the loud laugh that she lets out. The uneasiness that had bubbled on her chest dissipated almost immediately. If her manager is around her, she will probably scold her for that ungraceful manner. “Seriously?” she asked. “Are we playing that kind of game right now?”
“Can’t we?” asked the guy. “It’s fun.”
“Mhm, whatever you say Mr. Casanova,” she said with a hum, heart light. “Don’t you think you should buy me another drink then?”
He shrugged, “I certainly can,” started the guy. “But I don’t want you to drink too much.”
“Why?”
“So that you can remember this conversation and tell your friends that you met an unforgettable guy during this event.”
The laugh that she lets out is more genuine than anything that she had done ever since her arrival at the charity gala. The guy seems to realize this as he too, joined on her laugh.
“I know, it’s bad,” he said. “I’m not the best at flirting.”
“Really?” said y/n. “I would’ve thought otherwise.”
He grinned before thrusting his hand towards her. “Should we start over?” said the male. “My name is Charles.”
She noted the lack of last name. Good. “Y/n,” said the female as she shook his hand. “Pleasure.”
It is a pleasure, because before she knew it, the both of them fell into a deep conversation about music.
Charles seems to be an artist himself, or maybe a huge music fan. He talked about the latest releases to the old ones. The male talked about his co-worker who had a deep love for the 90s rock to his own taste of classical music, even confessing that he had attended numerous concert about it.
Y/n too, talked about music. She talked about how high quality the latest release had been. How there seems to be some kind of trend in the music industry lately. How there seems to be a newer and more talented singer each passing day.
It surprised her a bit, that Charles is a good talker and listener. He seems genuinely interested at what she’s saying, As if she’s not talking about the nerdy side of the music industry. As if she’s not mostly rambling about herself.
The male asked intriguing questions, humming at the appropriate times, and even broaden the subject with his own knowledge.
She didn’t know how long they talked, maybe hours, because the moment she realized that they had been talking too long was the moment when her phone buzzed as a text from her manager appeared.
Ah, thought the female, glancing at the watch that Charles is wearing. I have to go back soon.
There’s a sense of disappointment that appeared inside of her chest when she realized that it was the end of their conversation.
Charles seems to realize her disappointment because he immediately raised his eyebrows, “Something wrong?” he asked, tone full of worry.
“No,” she replied, taking her handbag. “I just realized that I have to go back soon.”
The male probably thought it was weird considering that the gala is going on full swing without a sign of stopping, but well, she has a strict schedule. She has to go to an early photoshoot tomorrow.
“Let me walk you out then,” said Charles as he straightened up, offering his hand.
Y/n stared at the offering hand, pondering about her decision for a bit before she curled her arm around it. “Okay then.”
The walk towards the exit took longer than expected because there are a lot of people that went to greet them. Designers, directors, fellow musicians. On Charles side, she too recognized a lot of people went to greet him. Though she doesn’t know any of them.
He probably doesn’t work in the entertainment industry then, thought the female.
“Should I drive you back to your hotel?” asked Charles as the both of them exited the ballroom where the charity gala was hosted. It was quiet, a far cry from the loud music and the chatters that had surrounded them previously.
Thinking about the offer, she shook her head, “No,” she replied. “My friend will pick me up.” It’s her manager.
At that, the male look disappointed.
It was at that moment, y/n made a choice that changed the course of her life. She doesn’t know what made her do it. Maybe it’s the pouty look that Charles is giving her or maybe it’s just her lonely self craving for love.
She doesn’t know the exact reason was but-
Inside of her purse, y/n rejected the call from her manager.
“You know what,” started the female. “I really enjoy talking to you.”
“Me too,” replied Charles.
“I heard there’s… a really good place to eat late night snacks around here,” she continues. “Do you want to go there?”
It’s blinding. Charles smile is blinding.
.
They ended up eating a late-night snack that night. It ruined her diet and Charles also confessed that this ruined his own diet too.
Though, the both of them doesn’t seems to care, too engrossed with each other.
Charles continues to give her bad flirting attempts and she too, replied with her own version of flirtation. It was fun. It made her felt a bit free.
She could feel her phone continue to buzz throughout their late night escapades – certainly from her manager – and y/n decided to ignore it. If she had thought that Charles looks handsome under the dim lighting that the charity event provided, under a proper lighting he looks stunning.
Charles had denied being in the entertainment industry and y/n signed in shame. He could certainly make good money with a face like that.
When the night was ending, she lets Charles to drive her back to her hotel.
They arrived through the back door, a far more discreet entrance where no paparazzi and fans can enter.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said as the male opened the car door for her. “I really enjoy it.”
“I should be the one saying that,” replied Charles with a large grin.
There’s a sudden silence between the two of them, as if they doesn’t know what to say. Should she say see you later? Or is this a one time thing?
It would be a shame if this is a one time thing. It’s been awhile since she enjoys her night like this. The silence was broken when the male decided to speak up.
“Tomorrow,” started the male, staring directly towards her. “Do you have any plan for dinner?”
Y/n immediately ransacked her brain for tomorrow’s schedule.
“No,” she said. “I’m free for dinner.”
And at that, he reached out for her hand. Y/n didn’t flinch, completely lowering her guard for this man before her. He brought it towards his lips, giving it a small kiss.
“Then,” said the male, smiling. “Have a dinner with me?”
Thump, her heart beats once. Twice.
Thumpthumpthumpthump-
“Yes,” she answered, large grin overtaking her face. “I would love to.”
.
They went on a dinner the next day, in a small quaint restaurant that’s overlooking the Eiffel tower. If y/n was not charmed by that gesture, she would’ve called it cliché, but fuck it. She was definitely charmed by the dinner that they had.
Maybe it’s because of the small gesture that Charles did – opening the car door, holding the door for her, asking what her favorites are. Maybe it’s because the food they’re eating was just good. Maybe it’s because she’s just weak for a candle lit dinner in Paris.
She really doesn’t know what’s the reason. All she knows is that she didn’t stop smiling throughout the night.
It’s a bit weird but talking with Charles was unexpectedly easy. She found out that he can speaks Italian fluently, making them converse in Italian all night long. He said it was because of his job, making him need to stay in Italy for some part of the year. They talked about various topics. Like their hobbies where she found out that he can play the piano and from what he claimed, he can play it really well.
“You sure about that?” she had teased him. “I also can play the piano really well.”
Charles had laughed at that. “Should we have a piano battle then?”
They talked about their life,
“I was born and raised in Monaco,” said the male. “Though I have to travel a lot because of my job.”
“I was born in Italy,” said y/n. “My family moved to South Korea when I was in elementary school.”
Talked about their favorite food,
“Caprese salad,” he said as he nudged the salad in front of her. “It’s my favorite.”
“I never really liked cucumber,” said the female, grinning a bit stupidly. “Much prefer tomato over it.”
Talked about their favorite things,
"I like flowers, especially peonies," she had said, remembering the peonies that her dad would gave her mom almost weekly. "I will probably become a florist in my next life."
He hummed. "I will probably be a... mechanic?"
Talked about their family,
“I’m an only child,” said y/n. “Though I do have close friends that I thought of as my brothers.”
“Really?” asked Charles. “How long have you guys been friends?”
She pondered a bit. “More or less 10 years maybe? Or eleven and twelve?”
He chuckled. “I also have friends that I know since primary school,” said the male. “The eight of us.”
“But do you have any siblings?”
“I do have an older and younger brother.”
They talked about everything and yet nothing.
Y/n soon realized that the both of them are avoiding certain topics. Like what their jobs are or topics that could probably disclose more of their identity. Oddly, she found herself really liking it.
She doesn’t even know Charles’s last name. She knows almost everything about him but his identity. She doesn’t know anything about the man that’s laughing and sharing dinner with her tonight.
And yet, she doesn’t seem to mind.
This sense of anonymity gave her a safe blanket. It seems a bit fucked up, but she finds the fact that they’re both not disclosing their identity to each other is a good thing. Maybe it’s the wariness, or how she already got used to not trust people easily.
All she knows is that she likes this. This easy conversation and banter that they share with each other.
If she had thought that the dinner was charming, the stroll that they did around Paris that night is more than charming. There’s just something a bit special to walking around the city of love late at night, laughing and talking with someone that you find attractive.
Charles is really playful, always trying to make her giggle throughout the walk. He would ask her to do a failed rendition of a ballroom dance under a streetlight, or he would tell her about the odd history or even his own funny experiences during his previous trips to Paris.
It’s been a while since she laughed that hard.
That one dinner turned into another and another. It’s been three days since they had dinner together every day.
Y/n found herself surprised at that. After all, she’s used to always not let anyone get too close to her. Too used to guarding her heart too tightly, not letting anyone in easily.
Charles though.
Charles with warm green eyes and dimpled smile.
Charles who had talked about his home in Monaco with a too wide smile and sparkling eyes.
Charles who had told her about his travels all around the world – regaling tales about the many cuisines and cultures that he had experienced.
Charles who had looked at her with so much warmth and made her laugh every night.
It made her want to belief. To believe that the warmth that Charles gave her is true. That all the kindness and loving words that he had directed towards her during these past few days is true. That all of this is not a ploy to just get into her pants or a ploy to leech off her fame.
Maybe it’s okay to open her heart up for a bit. To let this giddy like feeling to consume her as she forgets about all the repercussion this small rendezvous can impact her.
To let herself enjoy the wonders of love for the first time.
Please, she had thought as they once again stroll around Paris late at night. If this is a dream, don’t wake me up.
“Hey,” she called out, catching his attention. “I was wondering.”
“Hm?” hummed the male as he kissed their interlocked hands. “What is it, chérie?”
Looking around, y/n turned towards the male. “I was wondering how you even knew so many streets with so few people?” she asked. “Like I’ve been wondering how we even avoided meeting so many people during our stroll?”
She had thought walking around in Paris a bit risky. There are far too many people that knew her and far too many paparazzi dying to know an inside scoop about her personal life. Though, oddly, these past few days, they hardly met any people during their walk.
The female had been suspicious at first, glancing at Charles with doubts on her face. Though, the male acted as if there’s nothing wrong. It seems, the male knew the reason.
Charles fell silent at that.
Y/n thought that she had hit a landmine. That her question is something a bit too personal to him. Immediately, she backtracked. “I mean-!” she started. “I mean if you don’t want to answer is okay! Like I’m pretty sure you’re not a serial killer or anything because you haven’t killed me these past few days- I’m not calling you a killer though!”
The male stared at her; amusement clear on his eyes as she continues to fumble around.
“What I want to say is,” she finally said, stressing out the word. “If you don’t want to answer it’s okay.”
Charles let out a laugh at that, almost making her stumble with how violent his shoulder shook. “Ah, I can’t believe the girl that I had flirted with – heavily I must add – for the past few days really thinks I’m a serial killer.”
“I’m not saying that!” hissed out y/n, pouting a bit. “Did you miss the bit when I said I’m pretty sure that you’re not a serial killer?”
“No, no, no, I heard that alright,” he said, grinning as one of his hands pulled her cheek a bit. “Mignonne.” Cute.
“Stop doing that!”
Charles didn’t stop and his grin merely getting wider. “I’m glad though,” he said as he untangled their hands so that now both of his hands are now pinching her cheeks. “That we established the fact that I’m not a killer.”
Y/n glared at him, hands flying up to hold the hands that’s on her cheek. “Whatever,” she said. “Forget that I even asked.”
The asshole let out a louder laugh at that. “Don’t pout,” he said as he tugged her lips upward. “It’s not a good look on your pretty face, chérie.”
She rolled her eyes at that. “I still look pretty,”
“True.”
“Okay! Don’t distract me with your flirting,” said y/n, huffing. “Are you going to answer my question or not? Because it’s perfectly fine if you don’t.”
“Well,” started the male, still cradling her face as his thumb brushed the apple of her cheek. “I have a… good answer to that.”
“Really?” asked y/n as she released the man’s hands from her cheek, holding it together with her hand as she looked up to him. “You want to tell me?”
He looks a bit hesitant at that. As if he’s debating something inside of his head. She didn’t know what kind of internal mental turmoil that he’s having with himself, though by the end of it, he looks more determined than before.
“I guess you can say it’s because of my job?” said Charles, tilting his head a bit. “I… tend to get recognized a lot.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow at that. “So… you’re famous?”
“In a certain circle, kind of?”
“Huh,” said the female, processing the information a bit. They got that in common then. She’s also famous in certain circles. “And are you comfortable enough to tell me what your job is?”
Charles bit his lips. “I’m… you know, Charles Leclerc.”
Y/n blinked.
“Charles Leclerc?” she repeated, and he nodded. “Leclerc? Is that your family name?”
The male stared at her. “You don’t know me?”
“… Should i?”
“No, no, obviously,” interjected Charles with a small laugh, hand waving around. “It’s just that you went into that charity ball and all, so I thought you will be familiar with my name.”
She tried to remember the event that they both had attended a few days ago. The charity ball that was meant for the art and sports industry.
Charles, obviously, is not from the entertainment industry. Or he could be? Like a producer or director maybe? Y/n is not that familiar with the acting side of the entertainment industry after all.
Or he could be from the sports industry. Looking at his body- yeah. Athlete.
“Ah,” said the female. “You’re an athlete?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Some would say that I’m not, but I like to think that I am an athlète.”
Oh.
“That’s why I didn’t recognize you,” she said, wonder clear on her eyes. “I’m not really that familiar with athletes – sorry – except the ones that’s representing my country and stuff… or like the popular ones like Messi or Ronaldo-“
“Are you telling me I’m not popular?” teased the male.
“That’s not the point,” she huffed out with a frown and Charles laughed at that. “And I know you must be a popular athlete, you said it yourself,” continue the female. “A bit narcistic but okay.”
“It’s good to have confidence in my line of work.”
Y/n pondered a bit. Should she? It felt a bit unfair to Charles if y/n didn’t say anything about her. He trusted her enough to tell her about his identity after all.
Does she trust Charles though?
She should be terrified how fast a ‘yes’ appeared inside of her mind.
Will he change? will the sweet Charles that she had known these past few days will be gone when he realized who she is. How famous she is. How beneficial it will be for him to continue this... relationship with her.
Again, she should be terrified how fast a 'no' appeared inside of her mind. As if she had trusted this man in front of her her whole life.
“Me too, I guess,” said the female after a while.
“What?” he asked, humor evident on his tone. “Are you also famous?”
“In certain circles, kind of?” she said, repeating his words from before.
Charles let out a huff of laugh before he grabbed her hands and practically dragged her to one of the benches near them. From here, they’re overlooking the Seine River and she could even see the Eiffel tower in the distance. A bit cliché, but at the same time, y/n loves it a bit too much.
“Should I start?” asked the male, fiddling with her hand. “On confessing about our deepest and darkest secret.”
She giggled. “Sure Romeo, you can start.”
“I’m a driver, racing driver,” he said.
And oh, that’s not bad. Y/n was expecting something much worse. Like a sport that she’s not completely familiar with or know even exist. “In what? Nascar?”
“Formula One, I drive for Ferrari.”
Y/n may have never any interest in racing, but she knows Ferrari. Her father is a big fan of Ferrari when she was little and from what she knows, had followed it almost religiously. She also knows that Formula One is practically the biggest and the most famous racing category right now. To drive for Ferrari in Formula One-
“You’re not lying when you said you were famous,” she said instead.
“Glad that we established that,” he said, amused. “What about you?”
“I’m… a singer, you can say,” she started. “Or an Idol, if you want to use the proper term.”
Charles scrunched his eyebrows. “Idol?”
“You know Kpop?”
“Ah,”
There’s silence between the two of them after that. Charles still playing with her hand and y/n still leaning her weight on his shoulder.
“Does this change anything?” she asked.
“No,” replied Charles almost immediately. “No, it doesn’t.”
She let out a breath that she didn’t even knew she was holding. “Good,” she said. “I like this.”
Charles released her hand before he curled his hand around her shoulder. “Me too,” he said.
.
The predestined one, that’s what they’re calling Charles.
The one that will bring back the championship to Ferrari.
The one that was destined to bring back the glory to Ferrari.
The sea of red and the Ferrari flags waving with the wind as he passed the checkered flag in Monza. The chants, of him bringing back the championship, that people screamed on top of their lungs every time the male appeared.
It was fascinating to see the extent of Charles’s popularity. When the male said that he was famous in certain circles, he was really humbling himself down. Because she knows, she knows when someone gave you this kind of devotion, this kind of love, it means that their love for you is more than genuine.
She doesn’t know how many videos of Charles she had watched that night. From his amazing start in 2022 season until his final standings. From his recent races to some fan’s compilation about the male over the years. Hours must have passed because the next thing she knows it’s already bright out there.
Her manager seems to realize her lack of sleep because he had ordered the makeup artist to add an extra concealer for the spot under her eyes. Though, the older didn’t probed more regarding the reason.
Y/n thinks that her manager can already guess the reason.
“Do you enjoy your late-night rendezvous?” asked the older man.
Looking up from her phone, she raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a problem, right?” asked y/n.
The older male shook his head. “It’s not, as long as you’re being discreet for the time being,” said the male. “We can talk again if you ever want to make your… relationship… public.”
A public relationship. What a terrifying thought.
“We’re still in the talking stage, nothing that serious,” said the female.
“It is if your partner is Charles Leclerc,” replied her manager. She could see he’s staring at Charles’s Instagram page. “Formula One may not be that big in Korea, but it’s huge all around the world.”
She knows that. She knows how loved Charles is by the people.
A sea of red. Of Ferrari’s flag waving with the wind. Of screams full of devotion and reverence.
She knows.
“I know,” said y/n, leaning back on her seat. “I’ll talk to you and the company later if our relationship became more… serious.”
“Good,” said the older with a nod. “Now should we review your schedule once again?”
.
Charles is holding a bouquet of roses when she met him that day.
“Ah,” she said, smiling. “For me?”
“Of course,” he grinned as he handed her the flowers. “I just realized I never gave you any flowers, decided to fix that.”
Y/n let out a giggle at that, holding the flowers close to her chest. “We met barely one week ago,” she said.
The male merely shrugged, “One week too late then?” he said. "I can't find any peonies, but I hope roses are a good replacement."
She’s not flustered. She’s not-
The heat radiating from her cheek tells otherwise.
They’re meeting during the day today. It felt a bit scandalous, considering all of their previous meeting had always been late at night.
Though, seeing Charles under the sun is a bit too tempting to missed out.
The private room that they book had a balcony overlooking Champs-Élysées, a beautiful sight that took her breath away. Charles had told her that a friend of his had recommended this place to him, saying that it’s a good place to have a date as it served enough privacy for them.
Y/n’s heart beats a bit faster when the male casually mentioned that yes, this is a date.
“So, you’re going back tomorrow?” asked the male.
She nodded. “You too right?” asked y/n. “My flight is early in the morning, what about yours?”
“It’s at twelve,” he replied. “Do you want me to drive you to the airport?”
The female laughed at that. “I think I have too many luggage to fit in your Ferrari.”
“You can ask your manager to bring your luggage and I’ll drive you to the airport,” said Charles, as he reached out, intertwining their hands together. “I just thought… we don’t know when can we meet each other again.”
That’s true.
This situationship between the two of them, she doesn’t know if it will last after Paris. She doesn’t know if she can do a long distance… situationship… or if Charles even willing to do that. This date, could be the last date between the two of them.
She hates it.
She hates the mere thought of it.
“Hey,” started the female. “Do you want to continue this?”
Charles stared at her. “I do,” he answered. “What about you?”
“Me too.”
A smile bloomed on his face. “I’m glad,” he said. “I… was afraid that you doesn’t want to continue this… relationship.”
“I don’t know if this will work,” she started, holding his hand tighter. “I don’t even know how this will even work, honestly,” she said again. “We came from two different world, our job demands us to always travel around, and we don’t live in the same country but-“
She stopped.
She thinks, she will regret it forever if she left Charles here.
She thinks, romance is not something for her if she doesn’t pursue this relationship.
“I would like to try,” finished the female. “I would love to try and see how this relationship will work.”
Y/n thinks a weight had been lifted from her shoulder as she said that. As if, an invisible baggage has been lifted.
The breathtaking smile that appeared on Charles face made her think that she had decided on the correct decision.
“Me too,” said the male. “Let’s do our best, okay?”
They laughed.
.
Charles did drive her to the airport the next day.
It was a blessing that she will be flying private, because the hug and the kiss that Charles gave to her forehead will surely be the headline of every tabloids if someone ever posted it.
.
Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could remember everything so vividly.
Of days that was spent on the road. Of the hours spent on an airplane as they flew all across the world. Stadiums to stadiums. From one continent to another. Of thousands of fans cheering their name, repeating words full of love and devotions.
She could always remember it. The big plan that they had prepared as a thank you gift for the fans before the boys will do their military service. Of the countless of hours and so much love that they had devoted in those plans. Something that is full of promise. Things, that can close the first chapter of their career with a bang.
But of course, fate, had never been on their side.
When the pandemic hits and the world went into lockdown, it also means the end of all of their plans.
Y/n always regrets it. The way they close the first chapter of their career. She just felt that they didn’t gave the fans enough closure of preparations. That they didn’t give them enough devotion to repay back all of their love.
While it’s true they held a free concert for their fans – albeit a bit of a controversial one – she felt that it’s just not enough. They should’ve done more. They should’ve given them more promise that they will be back soon. That bts will not be disbanding and soon they will reunite once again as a group.
But alas, time continue to pass and so it the inevitable.
.
In the middle of December, Jin-oppa went into the military.
It was a cold day. She knows that the training will be harsh and cold. Jin-oppa doesn’t like the cold. She doesn’t like Jin-oppa leaving her like this. Y/n did try to not cry, she really did. But alas, the dam broke, and she went full on sobbing as she clutched the older male tightly.
The oldest member merely laughed, teasing her like usual as he patted her hair. As if he’s not going to leave her. As if, they’re in the middle of their normal banter and not in the middle of a military base.
“Be a good girl okay, n/n?” laughed the oldest member of bts. “Don’t be a brat with Jungkook and listen to the other members well.”
She let out a wet hiccup at that.
“Aigoo,” laughed Hobi-oppa as he slung an arm around her. “Our little n/n is crying because her brothers are going to the military?”
“All of you are so mean,” she grumbled, and she can already imagine the reaction from the fans when today’s Bangtanbomb will be released. “Leaving me all alone here.”
Jin-oppa smiled cheekily at that, grabbing her cheeks. “Don’t be dramatic y/n-ah,” he said with a large grin on his face. “You have other friends besides us, and we’ll still talk on our groupchat.”
“But it’s different from seeing you.”
It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa arriving at her house late at night with a bag full of fried chicken. It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa who always laughed and teased her during dance practice. It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa who always bugs her during vocal lessons, joking with that dry humor of his.
It’s different, because Jin-oppa is only the start.
(All of them will leave her soon.)
They parted soon after that, the members leaving Jin-oppa to say goodbye to his family. All of them continue to linger there, watching the older line up amidst other new recruits. She has to admit he looked good and comfortable there. It seems all the preparation that he did beforehand became useful.
As the entrance ceremony came to an end, they said goodbye to Jin-oppa’s family.
“Wanna eat something?” said Jimin-oppa as all of them walked towards the parking lot. “There’s a new restaurant in Gangnam that’s famous for their Japanese food.”
Y/n made a noncommittal noise at that as the other members agreed on that suggestion. Her eyes trained towards her phone.
Her heart did beat a bit faster than normal.
“Who are you texting?”
“No one,” replied y/n almost immediately, shutting off her phone as she directed her attention towards the other member who are staring at her. They had arrived at the Japanese restaurant a short while ago, immediately being ushered towards one of the private rooms. “Seriously.”
Jungkook, the one who asked the first question, quirked an eyebrow at that. “Really?” he probed further. “Because you were smiling dumbly.”
She hit his shoulder. “Rude,” she hissed out.
“Y/n met a guy in Paris,” informed Namjoon-oppa in a true traitorous manner as he casually looked up from his phone. As if he didn’t just betray her absolute trust towards him. “She’s been texting him nonstop since then.”
“Oppa-!” she screeched out.
“Oh?” said Taehyung-oppa, slinging an arm around her shoulder as a teasing glint appeared on his eyes. “Our little sister finally enjoying the beautiful world of romance?”
“Jungkook is younger than me! Stop treating me as if I’m the youngest!”
“But I’m more mature than you though?” piped up Jungkook.
“No no, let’s go back to our main topic,” interjected Jimin-oppa with a knowing grin on his face. “So, y/n finally met a guy? In Paris no less?”
Hobi-oppa laughed at that. “Sounds romantic,” he said, amusement clear on his tone. “Someone we know of?”
“No,” she said with a pout. “He’s not in the entertainment industry.”
The other members raised an eyebrow at that. “How did you even met then?” asked Yoongi-oppa, leaning forward towards the table. “He’s not someone sketchy right? I know this will be your first relationship but don’t meet someone that’s not good-“
“He’s a good guy! Really!” said the female, face red from embarrassment. She can’t believe she’s having this conversation right now. After all, she had only met Charles last week, it’s not like they’re going to get married soon or anything! “I know he didn’t approach me just to… you know, leech off of my fame.”
“And how do you know that?” asked Namjoon-oppa. All of them went quiet when the door to the private room was opened as the waiter gave them their orders. The leader of the group only continues when the waiter left the room. “I know I’m the one that’s encouraging you to get a boyfriend, but I also want you to meet a good guy.”
“He- he doesn’t know me,” said y/n, remembering the look on Charles’s face when they both revealed each other jobs. “Really. I also didn’t even know of him, or even his last name back then.”
Yoongi-oppa raised an eyebrow at that. “So, he’s someone famous?”
“Well, kinda? In certain circles?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” interjected Hobi-oppa. “Didn’t Namjoon told us that you spent the week hanging out with him in Paris?”
“Yes?”
“And back then you didn’t even know his last name?”
“… Yes?”
“Wow,” marveled Hobi-oppa. “It’s a wonder that you didn’t get killed.”
Jimin-oppa actually hits Hobi-oppa’s shoulder at that.
.
When they arrived back at the company, a red-faced secretary appeared in front of them.
“Y/n-sshi?” called out the woman, catching her attention.
Perking up, she gave her a small smile. “Yeah?” she said as her manager beckoned closer. She could see the rest of the members raising their eyebrows, also stopping on their track as they watched one half of their youngest member being called up. “Do you need something?”
“There’s a delivery for you,” said the woman. “It’s um-“
“Is it a fan gift?” asked her manager. “You know we’re not accepting fan gifts anymore.”
“No, no, no,” denied the woman with a frantic wave of her hands. “It’s a bit big but the managerial office did approve it! They said that it was given by y/n-sshi’s friend!”
And that made her raised an eyebrow. Her friend? She could count her friends with her hands. And knowing them, all of them are not the type of people that would send gifts to her office, and not her directly.
Though that train of thoughts stopped when another man appeared, holding the so-called gift.
It’s a bouquet. A large bouquet of peonies was being held by someone from the managerial office. It’s so big that it’s clear the man is struggling to hold the flower as he walked towards them. Y/n was thankful that they’re already in Bighit floor because she’s sure that her surprised face looked incredibly stupid.
Immediately, one thing came inside her mind.
Charles.
The conversation that they had during their dinner appeared inside of her head. Of her blabbering about her favorite things, peonies being one of them.
“It’s not even in season,” she breathed out, though she’s sure that there’s a large smile appearing on her face as she went to received the flowers. There’s a note in the middle of with English words being written on it. It says-
“Keep smiling for me, from Char, love emoji and a smiling face” reads out Namjoon-oppa as he appeared next to her, startling her. There’s a teasing smile on his face as he turned his attention to her. “Huh, this is actually really romantic.”
“Oppa!” she whined out, trying to hide the note from his prying eyes. “It’s rude to read it like that!”
“But we’re dying to know!” said Hobi-oppa as he slung an arm around her shoulder and peered towards the bouquet of peonies she’s holding. “Oh, so this is from your mysterious man?”
Y/n wants to die. She’s so embarrassed that she’s sure her face is flushed like a boiled seafood at this point.
“Char? Who is that?” asked Yoongi-oppa as he too approached them, staring at the flowers with a narrowed eyes. “The guy you’re seeing?”
“Char sounds like a foreigner name,” piped up Taehyung-oppa.
“It could be Kim Char,” said Jungkook, chiming in.
“Kim Char sounds stupid,” interjected Jimin-oppa with a frown.
She really wants to hide in a hole as the other members began teasing her and the so-called Char.
Though, she really can’t deny the warm feeling that appeared inside of her chest. He knows that she’s really close with the members. He knows how important the members are to her. He knows, that if one of them are leaving, she will be incredibly sad.
It’s the small things. The small gestures that always made her heart beats uncontrollably.
Doesn’t this mean that he also thinks about her? As much as how she’s always thinking about him? Doesn’t this mean that Charles wants to take their relationship a step further?
Warm smile and green eyes.
Dinners and late-night stroll in Paris.
Bouquet of roses and flushed faces.
Hands, intertwining together, and a conversation full of confessions.
This should scare her. This feeling that slowly started to bubble inside of her. This feeling that should not be subjected to a man that she had just met a few weeks ago. A man that should’ve been a stranger to her.
But romance always work in a mysterious way.
Ah, she thought. Incredibly giddy. I really really like him.
Nearing the end of December, Charles invited her for a ski trip with his friends.
She accepted, of course. Despite all of her nervousness, all of her overthinking, she still decided that it’s a great idea to be there. After all, Charles asked her to come. He had invited her to have a glimpse of his world. To introduce her to his friends and letting her in inside of his social circle.
It was nerve wrecking, especially after the realization of her feelings.
When she realized that she likes Charles – too much, too overwhelming – y/n almost went into a denial phase. After all, she had never felt something like this before. She had never allowed anyone to reach her heart this closely before. To realize that there’s someone in her heart-
It’s scary.
She doesn’t know what to do.
Both her and Charles still haven’t talked about their relationship. She knows that she really likes the male, and she knows that Charles probably also likes her. But they never talked about… whatever this was between the two of them.
This easy relationship between them. Where they both openly flirt with each other. Where Charles sent her flowers almost every day since they day they separated in Paris. This relationship where she felt comfortable to talked about everything and yet nothing to the male.
This relationship, where she decided to open her heart to a male with warm green eyes and large dimpled smile.
Maybe that’s why this trip seems important to her. She doesn’t want to lose this relationship after all. She doesn’t want his friends to not like her because they seem important to Charles. She wants them to see that both her and Charles are meant to be.
Despite the sunny smile and the hug that she received from Charles as she landed in Monaco, one glance towards his group of friends made her want to hide in a ditch somewhere. Charles had talked about them. The group of friends that he had been friends since forever. Almost like how bangtan is to her. All of them are guys, though some did bring their significant others, promising her girls company during the trip.
During that trip she met his younger brother for the first time, Arthur Leclerc. He’s three years younger than them with brown hair – lighter than his brother – and a huge smile. Just like Charles, he’s also a racing driver who is competing in the lower category right now.
“It’s good to finally meet the girl that my brother talked about nonstop,” was the greeting that Arthur gave her when they first met.
Y/n pretended that it doesn’t make her flustered.
As time went by, she must admit that the trip was fun. Y/n’s nervousness about giving them a good first impression seems unfounded as all of them welcomed her with an open arm. Some of the girls even giggled and whispered to her that they’re a fan, surprising her greatly. A lot of them seems fascinated by her job, saying things that it’s not every day that they’ll see a kpop artist hanging out with them.
The trip itself seems like a good idea. They had played boardgames together, enjoying the snow, and other activities. Y/n found herself enjoying every minute of it. Until today that is.
“No,” she said, hand shivering – not from the cold for once. “Charles, seriously, I can’t do this.”
Charles let out a laugh, hands gripped her own gloved ones. “Believe in me, chérie,” he said, standing beside her. “It’s not that scary, look at Arthur.”
And of course, Arthur is in front of them, gliding through the snow easily.
“I never went skiing before!” she yelped, flinching back at the mere thought of having to go down the steep mountain with these thin pieces of wood. “I’ll seriously die!”
“No, you’re not,” said Charles with a laugh. “You’re too pretty to die, and I’ll guide you.”
“Are you a professional at skiing?”
“Well, no-“
“Then you don’t have the qualification!”
If possible, he only laughed harder. Somehow finding amusement in her own state of panic. She wants to call him an asshole, but at the same time, Charles is the only thing that’s making sure that she will not tumble forward into the thick snow in front of them.
“Just follow me, three, two-“
“No!”
Charles, who had inched forward, was immediately yanked back by y/n who had surged backwards in pure instinct. The male didn’t expect it, making them tumbled backwards into the heaps of snow.
They landed in a bit of an awkward position. With y/n sprawled across the snow and Charles being practically on top of her, hand caging the female to prevent him to stumbled down towards her. It was an awkward and uncomfortable position, and yet, they didn't made any move to get out from that position.
Both of their eyes met as they stared at each other. Breath mingling with each other.
There was silence between them, as they processed what had just happened. Though, it was soon broken when they both let out a snort and began laughing with each other.
“Hi,” whispered Charles, face so so close. “You, okay?”
She wants to kiss him, she realized as she stared at him. The male looked breathtaking. There is snow on his darker locks, clinging and hanging for dear life. His eyes crinkled from how large his smile is.
Her hand grabbed the side of his face, almost unconsciously. Charles seems a bit surprised at that, though it didn’t take long for him to nuzzle on her gloved hand before giving her palm a kiss.
Thump, her heart beats once. Twice.
Thumpthumpthump-
“Yeah,” she breathed out. “Doesn’t mean I’ll try skiing again though.”
It was also during that ski trip that she asked Charles what they are.
Maybe it was because what happened earlier. Maybe it’s just her inpatient self. Maybe it’s just her wanting some sense of validation.
The both of them are sitting on the porch of their rented villa, hot chocolates on their hand. In the distant, she could hear the loud laughs and screams from their friends, no doubt enjoying the snow together. Both her and Charles had decided to retire early, far too worked up from the drama that y/n had made over skiing and how the male had basically force her to try it.
It didn’t work, leaving them sitting here as they watched the scenery together.
“Hey,” she called out, gaining his attention. “This thing between us… what are we?”
She could see the moment Charles wanting to answer something stupid like a ‘table’ considering there is a small table between the two of them right now. Though, her raised eyebrows seems to deter that intention.
“Well,” started the male, leaning back on his chair. “To start, I really like what’s going on between us.”
“Me too,” agreed the female as she curled her legs towards her chest. “I really like this.”
Charles chuckled at that, hand snaking towards the back of her chair before curling around her shoulder. “What do you want?” he asked. “I’ll follow whatever you want, I know your line of work doesn’t really accept dating but I…” trailed off the male, “I just want you to know that I never had these kinds of feelings with anyone before.”
It’s the same for me, she wants to say. I never felt something like this before.
(“I want you to experience the joy of love, even just once,” said Namjoon-oppa one night. “I think that’s one of the reasons that made us human. To be able love and being loved by others.”
Y/n had stared at him with eyes full of doubt. “Are you sure?” she had asked. “With our line of work, I think that love will only be an inconvenience.”
The male had laughed, patting the top of her head. “You have to experience it yourself to know it, n/n.”)
Maybe this is what Namjoon-oppa meant.
The grip that she had around her chocolate burns, though she really doesn’t care.
Why should she care when Charles is staring at her as if she’s the answer to all of his problems? Why should she care when Charles is staring at her as if the world revolves around her? Why should she care when her heart beats almost erratically – far too fast than usual -?
Why should she care when she’s sure that she shares the same feeling as Charles?
“I…” she started, staring at those warm warm green eyes. “I want us to date,” said the female finally. “Make it official.”
“Yeah?” grinned Charles as he leaned closer. “I also really like that.”
She hummed, cheeks flushed and heart far too loud on her ears.
“Hey, chérie?”
“Hm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Her world stopped.
Thump, her heart beats once. Twice.
Thumpthumpthumpthump-
E/c meet Charles’s warm green ones. Looking at him this closely, it was as if she could map out the constellation that’s peppering his face. How his long eyelashes perfectly framed his eyes and how his breath almost mingled with hers-
“Yes,” she whispered out.
The first kiss that they shared tasted like chocolate and peppermint.
The first of many.
.
Video calls had become a norm in their relationship.
Every day, without fail, they would call each other. Most of the time it was when Charles is finishing up his morning workout and she’s having her lunch. Sometimes it’s when Charles just went home – late at night – and y/n had just woken up from her sleep.
It’s nice, to be able to see his face and hear his voice every day.
When they’re not calling each other, the texts between them had become almost unstoppable. Y/n thinks the reason for that was because right now – during this point of time – the both of them are on their respective off season. Charles is having his winter break before the next season starts, and while y/n is preparing her solo debut, it’s not as actively as the other members who have a closer deadline compared to hers.
Despite only being limited to calls and texts, y/n finds herself really enjoying it. There’s just something about being woken up not by an alarm or her manager but by a call from Charles. Or there’s just something about seeing Charles after he had just finishing up his morning workout.
She will literally kill someone to be able to experience all those things directly.
“You’re still chatting with the guy?”
Closing the messenger app, she turned her head towards Taehyung-oppa who’s sitting next to her. Feet stretched and hands curled around the pillow on her lap.
“Yeah,” she said with a hum. “And I told you already, we’re dating now.”
The older chuckled at that. “My bad,” he said with a grin. “It’s a bit weird to think that the girl that always follows me and Jimin around now dating someone,” at this, his tone turned a bit dramatic. “My baby really grew up~”
She snorted at that. “You’re saying the same exact thing to Jungkook.”
“The both of you are my babies though,” said the male. “Anyway, are you going to meet him soon?”
Nodding, she showed him something on her phone. It’s a plane ticket, one way trip to Italy. “We’re going to meet up in Italy in January, before pre-season testing starts.”
“Cool,” replied the older man. “You said he’s a racing driver?”
“F1 driver,” she corrected as she shifted her attention towards the tv that had become, more or less, a background noise for the both of them.
They’re sitting inside bts artist lounge in HYBE, a room dedicated solely for them. She had been eternally grateful when the company made this room. After all, despite everything, a lot of the younger celebrities can’t relax when they’re in the same room with them.
“Why the sudden questions?” she asked, cocking her eyebrow together.
“Well,” started Taehyung-oppa. “You know how I went filming that new variety show in Mexico?”
Y/n nodded.
“My co-stars asked for your number,” he blurted out. “They’ve been asking for a while, to be honest. But they did become more persistent when it was announced that we’re having a group hiatus for a while.”
She fell silent at that.
Bts group hiatus had changed a lot of things, be it professionally or personally. More brands had approached her for their advertisements and campaigns, realizing that for the next few years, she wouldn’t be tied with bts as a group. Even collaborations, dramas, or even variety shows, had contacted HYBE for a chance of collaboration with her.
The female knows that the same thing also happened to the boys. More chance to do solo work, more chance to branch out of bts – the very thing that had become their life for the past years.
In a more personal manner, well-
Somehow, many had interpreted their hiatus as their disbandment. That this is the end of them as a group. That there is no way for them to reunite once again under bts. Which means many people had tried to get to know her more… personally.
She had enough discreet confessions and veiled flirtation during her time as an idol to last a lifetime. Somehow, those kinds of things increased dramatically now.
“You know my answer to that,” she chuckled weakly. “It’s like dating the best friends of your brother, weird,” continued the female.
“I know, I know,” waved of Taehyung-oppa.
A lot of things are changing, and she never felt so scared before.
.
She greeted Charles with a hug as he descended from the private plane.
“Hey,” said y/n, releasing the hug. Though, she could still feel Charles’s hand still curling around her waist. “Welcome to Korea,”
The male let out a laugh. “Such a warm welcome,” he teased.
Y/n rolled her eyes at that, still grinning, before she grabbed her hand and immediately drag him to the privacy of her car.
When Charles said that he wants to visit Korea, y/n immediately had everything prepared. From places to visit to foods that they should try together. Before this, she never realized how fun arranging a trip is.
For obvious reason, they can’t go to the popular places like Everland or other amusement parks. Museums though, is still an option. Charles had shown interest in arts and things like that, so y/n had asked Namjoon-oppa recommendations about museums that they should visit.
Besides museums, she had also dragged him to all of her favorite restaurants. Restaurants that only local knows. From the authentic Korean foods to fusions with western influences. She’s glad that Charles is not afraid to try different kind of food, though the expression on his face when he saw a still moving octopus on his plate is a bit too funny to not be recorded.
Despite its being a short trip, she had taken so many photos of Charles. There’s one from Jeju Island, there’s one with him holding a bts album, there’s also one when he fell asleep on her bed.
It warms her heart, to see her boyfriend inside her house.
It warms her heart so much that that photo became her lockscreen.
.
A team from Cartier had come to South Korea to shoot a campaign with her.
They had marveled and exclaimed, patting her skin with makeup as they talked in rapid French and English.
“Dearie,” said one of them, painted lips smiling widely. “You’re glowing, more so than when I saw you in Paris.”
She hummed at that.
Paris felt like a lifetime ago. So many things had happened that she almost lost track of time. “You think so?” she asked with an easy smile. “Do I look better?”
“Of course,” said another as she clasped a diamond necklace on her neck. “You look amazing, dear.”
Y/n laughed at that. “You give me too much praise.”
“No, no, no,” said the woman. “I’m telling you the truth here!”
“Of course, of course,” she answered easily. “So, what kind of glow do I emit?”
“You look like a woman in love.”
Her heart almost stopped at that.
Love.
Isn’t it far too soon?
Isn’t she falling in love far too easily?
“Really?” asked the female, trying to not show her wavering voice. “Do I really look like a woman in love?”
“Yes,” breathed out the woman. “A woman, who had fell in love deeply.”
Maybe I am.
.
She went to Italy late January.
The first thing that appeared inside her mind when she arrived to Maranello is, obviously, Ferrari. From her hotel room with bright red walls and a picture of a Ferrari Formula One car team hanging everywhere, to the prancing horse statues that she sees everywhere in the town.
It seems, the team is the pride and joy of the town, she thought as she watched the Ferrari flag hanging from the building as she made her way to the city center. Which is good, because this means that no one will recognize a random kpop idol in the middle of this formula one obsessed city.
Charles is the star here. Every time he appeared, every time he went into town, everyone would crowd around him.
“Charles!” yelled one of them in Italian when both y/n and Charles is having lunch. “You did good last season!”
The male laughed, yelling a “Thank you!” towards the other.
It happened so many times that she almost lost count. It’s clear that he’s adored and loved. Though, to see how loved he is, is a bit surprising.
“You’re so famous,” she said as she entered their hotel room. “It’s amazing to see.”
He hugs her from behind, wrapping his arm around her torso tightly. “It’s a bit weird for you to say that” he said, a bit muffled on her neck. “You have like 50 million followers, chérie.”
“Followers doesn’t mean everything,” she laughed, as they moved towards the balcony on their room.
From here, they could see the city of Maranello almost at its entirety. Something that she surely will remember when she went back to Korea.
Charles had released his hold over her, entering their room before appearing besides her with two glasses of wine. He handed one of them towards her without a word.
“My name is going to be here one day,” said Charles, hand circling around her shoulder. “In one of the streets.”
Y/n nuzzled further towards the crook of his neck. “Is that a Ferrari driver privilege?” she asked.
“No, it’s Ferrari’s world champion privilege,” said the male with a grin. “I’m going to win it.”
She let out a hum at that. The way Charles phrased that statement is not ‘if I win it’ but ‘I’m going to win it’. It’s so full of conviction and truth. He truly believes that one day, he will win the championship under Ferrari.
“You really love Ferrari,” she stated, looking up towards him.
Charles looked down, one hand coming to her face to pinch her cheek softly. “It’s my dream team,” he said. “All my life- it’s always the red car for me. I remember watching the grand prix from my friend balcony and all I could see it the red car winning the races.”
His dedication to his team is inspiring. The way he talked about Ferrari, it was as if he’s talking about his family. There’s a certain shine on his eyes as he rambled about his races and how great the car that they had last season.
It almost reminded her of her own team.
Devotion. That’s what she could feel from Charles. He had devoted his life for Ferrari. He had made his mind – and she knows that the male is a really stubborn guy – that he will win with Ferrari. That he will prove his nickname as the predestined one to be true. To bring back, the championship to Ferrari.
After all, when you win with Ferrari, you became legend.
“Of course,” she said, smiling. “And when you win your first championship, I will be there, cheering for you.”
The smile that Charles gave her is almost blinding.
.
“Do you think making our relationship public a good idea?”
Y/n stared at him, unable to answer.
She doesn’t know.
.
Surprisingly, Hybe doesn’t object her decision to make her relationship public.
“You’re in your tenth year already,” said PD-nim as the older male ate his dinner in front of her. “And this kind of things… didn’t we promise all of you that we will give you full reign over it?”
She tightened the grip on her chopstick.
Because what the male said is the truth. In order to make sure that all of them can do their reunion in 2025, they had decided to renew the contract with HYBE. Full reign over their artistic directory and personal life is one of the clause.
Still, even though HYBE gave her their permission, y/n can’t help but second doubting that decision.
Dating scandal is a taboo. It could ruin her career. It could ruin bts’s career. The stigma of her sleeping around with her members would grow once again. People would talk. How she’s a slut. How she’s only dating rich men.
It could be the end of her.
“I don’t think you should worry much,” said Jimin-oppa as she asked him about his opinion. “You should belief in our fans, not random online trolls.”
And the thing is- yes. She believes on their fans.
She knows that ARMY wants her to be happy.
She knows that ARMY won’t turn their back on her over these kinds of things.
But still, it’s only normal for her to be a bit nervous at this kind of things. She’s going to share a huge part of her life after all. The first one to ever publicized her relationship in bts.
Scary.
So so scary.
“We’re going to put up the announcement tomorrow if you’re sure with this,” said her manager, showing the already written announcement. “There will be backlash, obviously, but I think this decision will be healthier for you.”
“Yes,” she answered. “I know.”
“This can also be the start of a movement, y/n,” said the male. “It’s about time for the Korean entertainment industry to get rid of the dating taboo. Idols are human. They’re not some machine and dolls that the public can control. They deserve to love and to be loved.”
Idols are not dolls.
It’s normal for them to crave a romantic relationship.
“You are the biggest celebrity in South Korea,” continue her manager. “With you publicly announcing your relationship, we can change the industry to have a better culture around idols.”
And,
And isn’t that what bts stands for?
They want to change the culture in the South Korean entertainment industry. They want to break all of the stigma that everyone has over idols. They want to make a better working environment for the idols in this industry.
Less abuse.
Less control.
More freedom.
They want idols to have more power over their company and the public. They want idols to have their own hold over their life. They want idols to be able to live like an actual human being. To know things and to be able to experience normal emotions that they never had felt before.
They, want to change this industry.
With that, she steeled her nerve one last time.
“Yes,” she finally said. “Let’s announce it to the world.”
Hello this is Bighit Music
This is an official statement regarding Y/n L/n, one of the artist under HYBE labels.
Recently, Y/n had entered a romantic relationship with a close friend of hers, Charles Leclerc. They are maintaining a serious relationship.
Please show lots of support so they can continue this beautiful relationship.
Thank you.
Truth to be told, when Charles first started a conversation with the pretty girl on the bar, he was not expecting anything besides a quick hookup or maybe a mere short conversation.
While it’s true that she’s beautiful – probably the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen – he doesn’t have any plan to pursue her. He was so sure that he’s not looking for any relationship. The sting of finishing second on the championship after completely dominating the first few races had still annoyed him greatly. Charles was determined that for the next season he will only focus on his racing career and the battle for the title of world champion.
That is, until the woman smiled at him.
He had never been a believer of love at first sight. He had always thought that love is something that you need to nurture. Something that you should put a lot of effort in. He had believed that love is not something spontaneous. It was not something that struck you all of the sudden in the middle of an overpriced celebrity exclusive charity gala.
Though, what does Charles know about love anyway?
When the woman let out that bright grin – eyes crinkling, and eyebrows raising a bit – he felt as if his world became a brighter. That all of the sudden the loud music around them became quiet and the only thing that he could focused on is her and only her.
As if, there is no burden of the Ferrari legacy on his shoulder. As if, he haven't let down the tifosi these past few years. As if, the sting of coming second place in the driver championship had been nonexistent.
Throughout the night as they continue to converse, he can’t help but follow each of her movement. The way that she will twirl her hair around her finger when she got nervous, the way her long nails gripped the glass, the way her painted lips would stretch into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen as she laughed and converse with him.
They talked about everything and yet nothing. From his horrible attempt of flirting to her decision to drink alone in the middle of the event. He could see the glances that was being thrown around towards them, a blatant show of them being interested on their conversation.
When the night was over, he was half in love already. Giving her his name and number is a no brainer.
Honestly, he was not expecting her to response to his offer for dinner. They didn’t know anything about each other after all. Though another part of him is trying to convince himself that that’s what having a dinner for. To get to know each other.
He had stared at his phone for a long time, glancing at it every couple of minutes until his manager reprimanded him about being distracted. That is until she responded, saying that she would love to have a dinner with him.
The few days where they had dinner together is the highlight of his trip to Paris. Which is a bit funny because he doesn’t even want to come to Paris at first – citing about medias and promoting brands that he had never even used before. Though in the end, he had been grateful at his decision to come.
Meeting y/n, had changed his world.
It was as if, his previously monotone world is now being filled with color. As if, before he met this woman, he never truly knows what living means.
It’s crazy how much he enjoys being in her presence. How much he loves to make her laugh and to show him sides that she had never allowed anyone else to see.
It’s crazy, how fast he’s falling in love with her.
“Are you serious with her?” asked Pierre when they met in Monaco. “Because dating her will bring a lot of media attention. This isn’t like your previous relationship, Char.”
He knows.
He knows that there’s a lot of risk from dating her. From dating such a high profile star like her. He knows all of that. If Charles is a smarter man, he would’ve ran. If Charles is a smarter man, he would stop all of his advances towards her. If Charles is a smarter man-
Y/n lets out a laugh.
It's the most beautiful thing in the world.
Well.
Charles had always been stupid, isn’t he?
Spending time with her is addicting. It was as if he wants to spend every second of her life with her. As if he’s ready to commit-
The skiing trip had been blissful. He had felt that him and y/n had grown closer and closer. The kiss that they shared during the trip also helps the giddy feeling that always erupted inside of his chest every time he thinks about her.
I’m in love with her, he thinks. I’m in love with her, he wants to scream so that the world knows his feelings.
It’s addicting. He thinks this feeling will never fade.
He thought that there is no way he can love her more than now, though, as he saw her walking in the paddock, wind brushing her hair as she stood there inside the Ferrari garage-
Yes, he thought. I want to spend my life with her.
.
Going to a Formula One race is not something that she really had thought of before.
Her dad is a big fan though. When she was a kid and before her family moved to South Korea, her dad used to take their family to watch the Italian Grand Prix every year. Back then, she was not that interested – to the dismay of her father – and then as she grew up, she got way too busy to even think about the sport anymore.
At last, until today.
The loud sound of the engine reverberated throughout the track.
Y/n could feel the tense atmosphere that engulfed the Ferrari garage. All of them watching the screen with nervousness clear on their face.
Charles is leading the race with a red bull hot on his tail.
She doesn’t know that she will be this invested on watching fast cars going in circles, but this is Charles. This is the love of her life riding the fast cars going in circles.
There are a lot of hushed whispers, people commenting and watching the race with a bated breath. The sky is dark, only making the bright light around the track a bit more intimidating.
“Do you think he’ll win?” she asked Fred, the team principal of Ferrari. He had welcomed y/n with an open arm earlier. It seems that he’s delighted by the attention that y/n had brought to the team. “I’m- I’m really nervous.”
“If he keep this pace,” started the older man. “I’m positive that he will take the win.”
("I'm going to be a world champion," said Charles, tone full of confidence. He's sure of that. He's sure, that someday, he will bring back the championship to Ferrari.
And y/n wants to believe.)
It’s really nerve wrecking to see the last few laps. After all, from what she knows, the Red Bull that’s chasing Charles is last year championship winner, Max Verstappen. Charles had also said that there’s an ongoing intense rivalry between him and Max. A rivalry that had spanned across their childhoods up until now.
Their rivalry had been compared to the greats of Formula One. Niki Lauda and James Hunt. Senna and Prost.
Leclerc and Verstappen.
It meant a lot to Charles. He had confessed that he had been chasing Max's back for years. To desperately prove to everyone that Charles is too, a once in a generation talent. That he too, will be one of the greats in Formula One.
This time, it's Max chasing Charles.
She can only breathed out a chocked sob when Charles entering his last lap, still leading the race.
“Oh my god,” she said as the Ferrari team ran out of the garage. “Oh my god!”
She watched as Charles takes the win.
It was a celebration that he had only ever watched through the screen. A sea of red. Ferrari flags waving from the wind. Words full of adoration and reverence.
Charles, who had climbed out of his car and standing on top of it, pointing towards the sky as he shouted out his happiness.
"YES!" he had screamed, joy clear on his face and on his voice. "YESS!"
Y/n chocked out a sob.
He really won the first race of the season. An amazing way to start the season. A season that meant so much to him.
She stood there, amongst the crowd of red as she stared at her boyfriend being hugged by his team. Soon, his attention drifted towards her, and an even larger grin appeared on his face.
“You did it,” she whispered out as she hugged him. He let out a a loud laugh at that. “That was amazing-“
The female didn’t finish her words as Charles cut it as he pressed their lips together. She could feel countless cameras and eyes directed towards them as whoops and hollers appeared all around them.
She will be scolded by her manager.
The company will call her after this.
Though, she seems to not care about all of that at this moment.
“I love you,” he breathed out as their lips parted.
Grin still wide and a bit teary eyed, she lets out. “I love you, too.”
It’s safe to say that their fans broke the internet shortly after.
End
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Nexus.
Yandere Blade x F Reader.
Warnings: Nothing major yet, some minor Honkai: Star Rail spoilers.
Word count: 4.6k.
Nexus index.
On the planet Eris, in the city of Perianth II, night reigns, for there is no star close enough to challenge its rule.
Deep within the bowels of the metropolis lit only by manmade contraptions, sits a bar known as LOTUS-EATER, carved into the cragged terrain as if it’d always been there. It had not, in fact, contrary to local legend. Had the IPC not run into issues with overcrowded prisons, this planet they now consider a scourge would never have had the means to limp on.
Easy solutions cultivate the conditions for worse problems to develop later on.
This is what your mother — a shrewd woman to her core — instilled in you.
Grimacing, you reread the words on your screen for the umpteenth time.
… You wish she had instilled some business management skills instead.
“Miss Exalted-One-Ma’am, when are you coming back inside? This client is refusing to leave until he can speak with you. Lear is running interference, but that’s going as well as you can imagine,” a feminine voice calls out.
You glance up fast enough to assess her expression. Despite the severity of her words, she’s smiling, amber eyes crinkling by the corners. Her chestnut-colored hair is worn in a braid that extends down the length of her back, meaning she hasn’t clocked out yet, or else it’d be loose. You have some wiggle room, then.
“Nona,” you beckon her over, “What do you think this means?”
Inquisitive creature she is, she doesn’t waste this opportunity to poke around in your private matters. Her eyes flitter back and forth as she takes in the contents of your phone. Interlocking her hands behind her back, she hums.
“Looks like we’re due for a visit.”
“That’s what you gathered too?” You murmur. “What a mess this is turning into. The last thing we need is for the hounds to start sniffing around.”
“I dunno what you’re frazzled about, exalted one. The locals wouldn’t cough up info to the IPC even if their life depended on it.”
“Therein lies your answer — the locals won’t, but our clientele is vast as the universe is infinite. Someone looking to score quickly could put in a tip. The hounds are just itching for an excuse to put an embargo on Eris again.”
She shrugs. “Outsiders bribed and snuck their way in last time, they would now too. Benefits of a quality product.”
You shake your head and pinch the bridge of your nose. Nona means well, but if she thinks in such simple terms, her training period won’t ever end. Or perhaps you’re being a tad too harsh on the girl, you haven’t slept since receiving this text message two cycles ago. If it weren’t for how scarce this technology is, you would’ve smashed it to pieces for causing you such prolonged strife.
Alas, as a native of Eris, there are two things you intrinsically cherish above all else — any object that emits light and the special nectary cradled within the planet.
“I’ll take your input into—”
A shrill shriek cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.
“The hysterical client, I reckon,” Nona dryly remarks. “Now, can you please come in before Lear gets stabbed? If it isn’t already too late.”
You don’t bother dignifying her macabre speculation with a reply. You enter through a back door accessible only to LOTUS-EATER staff, weaving around boxes of cargo that need to be sorted. A heady, aromantic scent clings to the wood, yet its temptation is long lost on you. Where the clients indulge, you abstain. The livelihood of yourself and your workers relies heavily on your psyche’s clarity.
Emerging from the back rooms has you standing on the building’s second floor, an area known as The Lounge. Here, the spherical, gravity-defying emitters of lights standard in this region are set dimly. This latest model even allows you to adjust the dimensions, ranging from small enough to fit in the palm of your hand to the size of a room. There was supposed to be one more on this floor, but while unpacking the order, it slipped from Lear’s hands and met an early demise. Great cooperation was needed to locate the glass that floated to the ceiling.
You check the status of occupancies. Two private rooms are in session, the other eight are empty. By your design, it had been a slow night. You gave orders to the receptionist, Thalia, to only book appointments for influential customers, just in case the omen floating over your head comes true. You walk down the hallway which leads to the first floor, only to notice cool colors set in a square array by the digital lock.
The sight doesn’t sit right with you. You consider taking a detour to investigate, only for the commotion downstairs to encourage otherwise.
“Sir, if you’d please calm down—”
Lear’s gentle voice is cut off by another.
“I demand to speak with her,” it heaves. “The mind witch. Where is she?”
The electronic curtains that lift for those put into the LOTUS-EATER’s database part in a magnificent flurry of scarlet hues. You feel each set of eyes that glance your way. It’s a typical ensemble present — affluent travelers, political emissaries, and well-to-do merchants. Some drink at the bar, others watch the live entertainment playing soft music. Everyone aside from the heaving interloper is dressed in the formalwear expected of the establishment.
The click of your heels against the dark wood floor reverberates throughout. The man’s reaction to your appearance is delayed, though he eventually turns his head to see where Lear is looking. Resentment contorts his face upon spotting you. You recognize him. Jay R. Alister, a client who gave Thalia a difficult time due to his demands to have a Synalink booking today. You thought you smoothed over the matter by granting him access to the first floor, The Club, and placing him on a priority list for next time.
Copious amounts of alcohol must’ve unraveled your hard work.
“Shall we take a moment to collect ourselves, sir?”
“No one— no one understands,” he insists, swaying ever so slightly. It’s a peculiar sight. One message from a handful of the individuals present would be enough to spell doom for Alister, this charade likely already has him blacklisted across multiple star systems. To be a client at LOTUS-EATER is a privilege. Everyone adheres to the unspoken rule of the honor system, eliminating the need for security inside.
“I’d like to, Mr. Alister, if you wouldn’t mind explaining to me outside.”
He’s drunk, but a low-level link can be established, you surmise. It isn’t an option without risks. As a recurring client, he could catch onto the invasive feeling and grow further agitated. The eyes fixated on you grow heavier. Some are curious, others bemused, and a few pass silent judgment, comparing your capabilities with the previous Exalted Arbiter.
He blinks slowly. “My Roze… she’s upstairs. She’s waiting for me. I can’t— can’t be late…”
“You won’t be,” your voice takes on a concerned lilt, “Let’s go meet her elsewhere. Follow me and I’ll take you to her.”
A white ring forms around his pupils.
“You… will?”
“I will. Come, now, we wouldn’t want to waste any more of her time, would we?”
The ring goes from opaque to solid.
The low-level link has been made manifest. You feel the thread connecting you to the essence that makes Jay R. Alister himself.
You stride past him and he immediately scrambles to follow. Out of the corner of your eye, you note how Lear’s shoulders relax and give him a reassuring nod. He did a good job stalling until you could personally see to this matter yourself. If this had occurred any other time, it would’ve been your top priority, but a far more sensitive issue threatened to ensnare you in a worrisome web.
One after another, the pairs of eyes fall, like a flying pest in its final moments. Conversation resumes and the music increases in volume.
Cool air embraces you once you’re outside. This particular region is well-lit, a testimony to its prestige. Restaurants, boutiques, and other fine shops have been built with walls of dark stone naturally found on Eris for better insulation. The once rugged streets are smooth, painstakingly cobbled together by a city planner many Amber Eras ago. Any crack has molten gold poured into it so that when it dries, the ground beneath your feet is a never-ending sea of ebony and gold.
You wave over the closest security guards. The rest can be left to them, Mr. Alister has damaged his reputation enough for you to consider his dues paid. You’ll tell Thalia to take him off the registered client list for LOTUS-EATER and that’ll be the end of it. You’re preparing to head back inside when a pervasive, overpowering influence freezes you in place. It’s reminiscent of an electric current.
The taut link between you falters.
Straining…
(He’s reaching into his pocket).
Fraying…
(His hands wield a sharpened implement).
Until it snaps.
The subjugated lunges at the subjugator.
You try to re-establish the link, but there’s a fortress around his mind that wasn’t there moments prior. Imposing and unbreachable. Where did this surge of mental fortitude come from? You need to think, you need to act. There must be a way for you to regain control, your technique is unshaken even in the face of imminent demise. In the three seconds it takes for him to close the distance, you make seventy-four attempts, each ending in failure.
Has the last grain of sand fallen to the bottom of the hourglass, cementing this choice to believe in your abilities as the wrong one?
This can’t be the end. Who will take care of—
Metal clashes against metal.
The being in front of you is a shade. Tendrils of agony untold slither up from his thigh and squeeze around his neck, constantly choking him, yet refusing the sweet reprieve a crushed windpipe would give. This is a person acquainted with every suffering a living creature could ever endure. The prismatic shards that detail his countless tragedies aren’t just broken, they’re eviscerated, an indecipherable mess. Some scattered to the wind and others forcibly scratched out.
This nightmarish presence eclipses your would-be killer.
His eyes meet yours and the hairs on the back of your neck stand.
“Don’t bother,” is all he says.
He could sense you trying to poke around in his head? Has he come into contact with Arbiters before? That can’t be possible, you’re familiar with everyone on the LOTUS-EATER registry. You cease your ministrations without verbally acknowledging him. His hollow expression burns into your retinas, invading your mind’s eye. The sword he saved your life with holds a similar weight. It radiates such intensity that you needn’t use any techniques to get a better read on it.
Walking up the steps in a casual manner is the last person you wanted to see — Kafka of the Stellaron Hunters. She spares the now subdued Alister a glance then turns to face you.
“Fortunately, I had the foresight to send Bladie ahead,” she smiles. You resist the urge to scoff. “Otherwise, our meeting would’ve been far less pleasant.”
So that man’s with her, you think. That’d explain why I couldn’t make any progress.
If the defenses surrounding Alister were comparable to a fortress, the minds of the Stellaron Hunters are like a deflective shield. Any extensive attempts at trying to gain access end up backfiring and causing you damage so long as they remain up. The only other being capable of a similar feat was your mother. Now, in the few years since her death, you’ve encountered three more with similar capabilities.
Are your abilities growing dull? Or are other species simply evolving?
You order the guards to deal with Alister as they see fit, he’s no longer your primary concern.
There’s a far worse headache forming on the horizon.
“... I suppose you’ll follow me inside whether I invite you or not?” You question, just barely managing to maintain the smile painted hastily on your face.
Kafka doesn’t reciprocate your hostility. She never does. Instead, she motions in the direction you were planning on taking them to avoid any unwanted attention. The guards won’t be an issue, since they’re on your payroll. You don’t want to risk lingering and being spotted by someone without an allegiance to you.
“I won’t overstay my welcome, Exalted Arbiter. You have my word.”
By essentially showing up uninvited at your front door, she’s placed you in quite a precarious situation. The man who parried Alister’s attack hasn’t dropped his vigilance for an instant. His posture is that of an animal poised to pounce. You lack the means to fight them off should they choose to utilize force.
Your gut instinct tells you it’s a bad idea to get involved any further. Your mind reasons you can only play the cards you’re dealt.
A sigh passes by your lips. “Very well. Let’s get on with it then.”
The duo follows wordlessly behind you. Kafka remains close, whereas the swordsman lingers further back, taking care to avoid well-lit areas and remaining hidden. Had you not already been alerted to his presence, he could’ve easily slipped past your detection.
The Stellaron Hunters are a formidable group indeed.
During the short journey, you recall the text message that pushed you into this vat of strife.
It was accompanied by an animated emoticon of the magenta-haired fugitive blowing a kiss.
You’ll be in need of me shortly. See you then xoxo
“Absolutely not!”
An exclamation of unrivaled proportion leaves you, accompanied by your palms slamming against your desk. Old-fashioned writing stationary clatters noisily in the aftermath. She stops the doomed descent of one pen and then looks back to you, unperturbed.
This woman is a shadow that follows her target persistently, devising fresh torments and sowing discord wherever she steps. To fight her is to do battle with a phantom, no attacks will land. The hopeless charade serves to tire you out. Still, your pride is wounded and without a balm to assuage the tender gash. It can’t scab over to heal. Again and again, it’s reopened, fresh blood washing over what had just dried.
“I haven’t finished my proposition,” she hums. She sits in front of your desk, legs crossed, her eyes shining an eerie shade. “I wouldn’t dare to ask so much of your resources if you didn’t stand to benefit as well. Our current arrangement has helped you cut down on costs, yes?”
You drum your fingers over the wood’s lacquer finish. “The word ‘arrangement’ implies cooperation, I believe extortion would be a better fit.”
“I’ll stand by my original phrasing. The IPC has abandoned all pretense of slowly creeping up rates on shipments to Eris; what they’re charging now will look generous in a few short Trailblazer Years. They want this planet dead and their past misdeeds to die alongside it.”
“Our current projections estimate we have at least two medium-length Amber Eras before we get to that point, by then, we’ll have countermeasures in place,” you droll out. These details have been drilled into your head ever since you became the head of this quadrant. “What proof do you have that the IPC will make such a drastic move? The other factions will lodge complaints, many of them use our… exports.”
You wince at the awkward phrasing of the word ‘exports’, knowing full well she’ll pick through any vulnerability like a vulture does a corpse.
Kafka leans forward. “By ‘exports’, you must mean Eris’ most sought-after natural resource. The tonic of the nectary.”
“I’m not allowed to discuss such sensitive material with outworlders.”
“You needn’t say anything, just listen,” she pulls out a vial from inside her jacket. The familiar sheen of glimmering gold within causes your breath to hitch. “Here I have a sample of the latest synthetic developments into the tonic, courtesy of Silver Wolf. The IPC is discreetly channeling funds into the Genius Society to revitalize the research effort.”
You bite back a laugh. “That knowledge is nothing new. They’ve been trying to replicate the tonic for ages; it’s a money pit. The last I heard, the closest they could get after investing billions of credits is a 14% match.”
“Try 70%.”
She sets the vial down and nods, encouraging you to take it. You don’t.
“... You can’t be serious,” your voice sounds far away, as if it were coming from another room. “You’re bluffing.”
“You don’t have to take my word for it. Have your alchemists examine it and come to your own conclusions.”
As a disciple of Destiny’s Slave, she’s confident that this will suffice to convince you, and loathe as you are to admit it, she’s right. The repercussions of this allegation could be disastrous. It’d be irresponsible on your part to not at least run it by the appropriate channels.
“What does this intel cost me?”
“Nothing, consider it a token of good faith. There’s a more pressing matter I hoped to bring to your attention, now that that’s out of the way.”
You raise an eyebrow. “More pressing than the future of my home?”
“That’d depend on who you ask,” Kafka dances around your apprehension to a rhythm no one else has ever composed. “It has to do with my companion. I didn’t bring him here to take in the sights, he’s to stay on a job until further notice.”
The mention of that enigmatic man brings with it a resurgence of the feelings you experienced earlier. It hit like a tidal wave, concentrated and suffocating. What would someone have to endure for their psyche to be saturated in such wretchedness?
“Alright. I’ll arrange for accommodations somewhere more discreet.”
“I think it’d be best if he stayed here, at the LOTUS-EATER.”
…
…
…
“What?”
Kafka has made many requests in the time she’s known you. Normally, she uses you as a point of contact to meet influential individuals or a warehouse of yours to store important items, but this is an entirely different beast. Those endeavors fester outside your purview. You give the push necessary and wash your hands clean of the implications.
To host a Stellaron Hunter in your most lucrative establishment could very well be the start of the end.
“After the events that unfolded earlier, you should see the potential advantages. You’re in a precarious situation. The IPC can’t place a bounty on you in an official capacity, but there are ways around bureaucracy. That attempt today won’t be the last.”
She lowers her voice to an enticing whisper. “And we both know you’re not financially sound enough to hire competent help. Take him. He’ll be yours if you permit him.”
How her melodious voice can invoke such a raw desire to argue is unknown, and yet, each fiery word fizzles out to ash on your tongue. In the same way you’d establish a link for the first time, you take the pieces of information at your disposal to test where the edges might align. The unusual fees on shipments, the supposed progress on the tonic, and the overall strain that’s been placed on every level of your business — the mosaic it forms is a crimson shade with a metallic scent.
You can’t die. Not yet, not when it’d cause so many to perish alongside you.
“This goes beyond ‘a token of good faith’,” you murmur. “Kafka… there’s far more to this, isn’t there? Just what are you planning?”
For once, the curvature of her smile is genuine. Blatant insincerity would unsettle you less.
“A gift for a friend.”
Upon LOTUS-EATER’s roof sits your favorite getaway, a secluded balcony.
There’s nothing fancy about the decor, if anything, it’s worn rugged by the elements. Paint chips off the three chairs and stubborn foliage congregates no matter how often you banish it with your broom. After ensuring you can only be contacted in an emergency, you wipe the condensation off the chair furthest to the right and sit tall.
Although you aren’t alone, you keep your eyes on the starry sky.
“I would like to apologize for the behavior I displayed earlier,” you take your time with the words, ensuring each syllable has a pleasant ring. “It must’ve been from the shock, although that’s no excuse. Please allow me to thank you properly.”
An icy wind whistles through. Once it finishes, you fuss over your hair, putting each strand back in its designated place. You grimace when it picks back up again.
“You can express your gratitude by speaking normally.”
Your head snaps in his direction. You examine his side profile through narrow eyes, impatience writhing beneath your skin. He pays your poorly masked hostility no mind. One by one, each muscle in your body relaxes, a domino effect you can’t bother putting a stop to. You slump down into your chair and cross your arms over your chest.
“Have it your way,” you sigh. Your capitulation earns you his piercing stare. “Pretty words or not, I meant what I said. So, um… thank you, and…”
Despite yourself, you try meshing together a more subtle phrasing, only for those infinite pools of vermillion to act as a successful deterrent.
“I don’t like being indebted to others, it’s a hassle. So, here is my offer. I’ll perform a Synalink on you, free of charge. Or a waitlist.”
Blade exhales sharply through his nose. It takes a moment to register that your proposition amused him more than it intrigued him. The perceived affront on your capabilities causes you to bristle. This is a rare opportunity you’re granting him, surely he must’ve heard of your abilities somewhere! People spend years trying to get an audience with you. The other Arbiters you employ are capable enough, otherwise, they couldn’t work here; but you transcend their combined efforts.
“There is only one thing I’d want to experience, it’s beyond your means.”
Propping yourself up on the chair’s arm, you scoff. “Hah, try me. Any emotion, scenario, for whatever length of time; tell me what you want to experience and I can make it happen.”
He doesn’t instantly rebuke you. You share a moment of silence — almost solemn, certainly more meaningful for him than it is for you. There’s a light tug of guilt that pulls at your conscience. Perhaps it isn’t him underestimating you, but not wanting to set himself up for disappointment again. If you’re going to be occupying the same space for an unknown amount of time, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get on adequate terms. This could be the door that’ll open that path.
You clear your throat to dispense the accumulating tension. “That clothing… you must have ties to The Xianzhou Luofu, or some experience with them. Are you familiar with Immersia games?”
“Vaguely. An acquaintance of mine plays them.”
You’re confident you could put a name and face to this ‘acquaintance’. For the sake of cordiality, you keep your opinion to yourself.
“I’ve never been fond of the comparison to my work, but I suppose it’s a decent touchstone. An Immersia grants the player a simulated experience predetermined by developers. There is a degree of immersion, hence, well, the name, but that’s barely scratching the surface,” you explain.
Reassessing his body language only reveals neutrality. You decide it’s better than blatant disinterest and continue.
“Traditionally, there are thought to be five senses in advanced lifeforms. These senses don't create the continuity of reality we experience, they just break it down into bite-sized pieces for easy consumption. Forming a Synalink is akin to overclocking a computer, not placing a hard drive in a different system. Your brain finds the stimuli I send it indistinguishable from the touch of your hair against your face, or the woody scent of incense in that jar.”
His eyebrows crease slightly downward. “A single glimpse into my mind was enough to send you recoiling, and still, this is an offer you’re comfortable making?”
You purse your lips. It’s a fair point.
“That was… different. Ideally, any link should be made in a stable environment to minimize disruptions. I had nearly been—” You cut yourself off, finding the sentence to be one you’d rather not finish. “—You know, so I wasn’t at optimal performance. That’s why we have private rooms in The Lounge.”
Your nostrils flare when he keeps regarding you with that impassive expression. Is his face permanently frozen? Does he need to be unpaused? You almost want to snap your fingers in front of him.
“Hey, you’d be less effective if you had to improvise and fight with, say, a spoon. Would your combat ability be based on that one irregular instance or the total sum of all your fights? Hm? What you witnessed earlier was my irregular instance. If you’re open to the idea, I can make it work.”
Blade shifts so that he can resume gazing at the sky. Before you can celebrate your victory in this one-sided battle of wits, he speaks up. His voice adheres to a softer creed.
“You are…” he trails off, taking care to select the proper description, “Remarkably strange.”
Your eye twitches.
This has been a miserable cycle. You had to breathe the same air as Kafka, deal with a drunk client that later tried to stab you, and you found out the main export that keeps your planet’s economy from total collapse might be duplicable. All things considered, you should be giving this guy the cold shoulder for the problems he’ll inevitably cause in your future. Altruism gets you about as far as jumping into the air and hoping that’ll transport you through space.
“Forget it, then,” you get up and twist around. The chair you formally occupied scrapes loudly against the ground. You don’t spare him a single glance while traversing the few steps that separate you from a long, well-deserved rest. Maybe you’ll be extra petty and lock the door so he has to remain here until you wake up. The olive branch has been extended, if he wants to take it and break it in two, that’s his prerogative.
You raise your hand to unlock the door when abruptly, something captures your wrist.
Your heart stutters.
There isn’t the softness of flesh or the warmth that radiates off skin. Instead, you feel the textured surface of bandages graze against you in a featherlight touch. You know the vice-like grip he’s capable of. You saw it in how he clutched the grip of his sword, like it was the only thing he was good for. Gentleness cannot come naturally to someone of his disposition. It’s an intentional choice that requires swimming against the tide.
Shakily, you exhale, hoping it’ll ease how your hands tremble.
When was the last time someone touched you? Ah… it must’ve been then.
You will the thought away.
Blade doesn’t tether you down for more than a few seconds, just long enough to ensure your attention is back on him. Your skin tingles where he came into contact with you. It’s a prickly, blisteringly hot sensation that starts at your wrist and spreads all over. You squeeze your eyelids shut in a last-ditch effort to recompose yourself.
He’s looking straight at you when your eyes reopen.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says. You find it strange how quick you are to believe him. “If you sincerely think yourself up to the task, then…”
There it is again, that swelling of feeling, visceral to a degree every survival instinct screams at you to turn away.
You find yourself leaning in closer.
He rewards your burning curiosity with the unprecedented utterance:
"Show me what it's like to die."
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