#anyways if you ever wanted to know how each of his batchmates died

[gaeasun]

Someone stop me I'm tormenting the blorbo :(

[jungstruly]

Stupid Cupid || 01

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You’ve ought to believe that you have a curse when it comes to love after a handful of disastrous dates, but when a certain baseball captain Lucas Wong finally looked your way, you were done with having that curse. The little love God can fuck himself anyways.

Or where in,

Best friend Haechan’s playing cupid and doing cupid’s dirty work behind your back to drive away your potential lovers all because of a pinky promise the both of you shared during high school. It’s only a matter of time until he blows his cover off. Until then, the stupid little cupid’s crazy plan to stop you from falling in love will be his top priority.

Genre || Rom-com, fuff, crack, slice of life, angst in the future, Uni!AU, Baseball!AU, Band!AU

Pairings || Business student /bassist!Donghyuck x Architecture student!Reader x Engineering student/baseball captain!Lucas (A side of Nursing student!Jeno, Business student!Renjun and Engineering student!Hendery)

Word Count || 3.6k

Taglist || @lelenoir​, @nzeeten​, @emvrd​, @badwithten​, @4-sun, @bl--ankhaeji​, @sunhyuck​, @hyuckiesoftie​, @hoshitaro​, @in-my-neofeelings, @chenleschurros, @deuxvous, @renjunluvr119, @neostains, @lovelyvitamin, @melxmay, @cherry-jaemin, @eyypeach, @shotoshortcake, @apollohyucks, @flirtyhyuck, @moonmystv, @princessaecha, @theprincessofuwus, @seungminh0, @dogghawaii3, @shyshybabyy, @jaeveil, @immasoftiee, can’t tag @dlndreamie & @mimika-28 for some odd reason :<

@scissorhands1617 & @neowrld thank you so much for being the best beta reader I could ask for!

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist!

PART ONE

   “I think we need to call an ambulance.” 

Jeno was quick to his feet. He even pushed Renjun off of his seat just so he could get out of the cafe’s booth. Within a few seconds, the nursing student was beside Haechan, trying to get his pulse. You and Renjun shared a nervous look as he tried to look for his phone, only to be startled by a loud laugh.

“Hyuck,” you gasped when Jeno gave the unconscious boy in your arms a loud forehead flick. “You’re not tricking anyone here buddy.”

All three pairs of eyes were on Donghyuck before his shoulder shook with laughter. Huffing in annoyance, you inched your face closer to his to get a better look. His eyes finally fluttered open. A huge grin was plastered on his lips. 

Donghyuck’s laughter died down the moment he saw how close you were to him. He finally smiled softly, admiring your features up close. You were friends with him for too long, far too long to the point of memorizing each other’s curves, bumps and scratches. Donghyuck couldn’t help but to crane his head up just to get a better view of your face. He finds it amazing how he still gets mesmerized by your beauty each passing day. 

“Gotcha,” You felt his fingers pinched your nose. Rolling your eyes, you pushed him off of you before scooting away from him.

“You’re an asshole. You know that?” You scowled, completely annoyed by his crazy antics. 

He leaned back on his seat, looking at you with a playful grin. “That I am aware of. Thank you for reminding me.”

Donghyuck’s remark only made you groan in irritation. You gave him a final glare as you leaned on the window away from him. Renjun only chuckled in amusement the moment he saw him leaned his head on your shoulder, standing up to let Jeno back to his seat.

“Whipped nation rise.”

“Shut up or I won’t recheck your homework.”

Jeno shook his head. His heart rate went back to normal. He removed his glasses to wipe the dirt off, staring outside the window to let his eyes rest. It was quite hard to recognize people without his prescription glasses but he was a hundred percent sure that someone waved at him outside. Jeno quickly wore his glasses again. He waved excitedly to the boy outside, obviously forgetting about your previous conversation.

“Hey Hyuck, isn’t that Lucas Wong who beat your ass last training?” The boy outside was still waving with such enthusiasm as if he saw an old friend. 

Your head whipped to your side, only to widen your eyes as you do a double take. It was indeed a small world. What are the odds of your happy crush being acquaintances with one of your best friends? Too little but the universe seemed to be on your side. You tried to sit back straightly, hands flying to your hair in an attempt to brush it back to look presentable. You can’t help but to let your eyes linger on the tall and handsome guy. His smile was charming and infectious that it made you unconsciously mirror him. Your eyes caught the dark blue polo that he was wearing, acknowledging him as a part of the Engineering department.

You froze right there and then when his eyes met yours. You felt like you were about to explode because of the unexpected turn of events. Not wanting to be awkward, you gave him a shy smile. 

Oh dear, you felt like you were going to pass out when you saw him grin at you. His friends beside him saw what was happening so they playfully pushed him, teasing him as they walked towards the gate which was located beside Mama Lee’s cafe. You were right. Your happy crush was hella cute now that you’ve seen him just a few feet away from you. His large eyes and ears along with his charming smile and his well defined built burned at the back of your brain.

“I think he just waved hi to,” Jeno’s friendly smile didn’t falter just one bit as he turned back to all of you, only to be greeted by Donghyuck’s wide eyes that were shooting daggers at him. “Me.” 

Jeno giggled nervously, finally realizing the gravity of his actions. Renjun’s lips turned into a thin line, fighting his smile but he eventually gave up as he realized that his friend’s genuine friendliness can be a flaw. 

Jeno’s eyes caught a glimpse of your flustered state before making eye contact again with Donghyuck. “Oops.”

Donghyuck knew that his plan failed the moment Jeno mentioned Lucas’ name. Not wanting to waste his energy on his friend’s carelessness, he decided to roll with it. He hadn’t that much of a choice now, had he? Just like that, cupid Hyuck was back in action.

“Lucas Wong huh,” you whispered with a smile before facing Hyuck and punching his shoulder which earned a yelp from him. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew him?”

“You didn’t ask?” He rubbed his shoulder.  “Besides, I’m not that quite fond of him. I heard a bunch of rumors and-”

You punched his arm again before you reached out and gave Jeno the same punch.

His hand immediately went to his shoulder. “What was that for?”

“Liars! You told me that the two of you aren’t going to be part of the baseball team this year!” Your eyes squinted at Renjun, pointing at him accusingly who was bringing his papers out from his bag. “Don’t tell me you know about this Injun?”

If there was something that Renjun acquired from being a part of the university’s debate team, it’ll be his quick thinking skill and his impeccable power of persuasion. Without batting an eyelash as he gets busy with his paperworks, he answered. “No clue. Don’t know this Lucas guy and I don’t really care.”

He was lying. Of course he knew about Lucas because Donghyuck was always ranting about him almost everyday. Renjun found it hilarious how Donghyuck managed to find something to nitpick on Lucas. The guy was actually decent if you were to ask him. He used to train with Lucas in debate workshops during the summer break before he decided to quit. He joined the baseball varsity team, only to be the captain a year after. 

“Good,” whipping your phone out, you decided to search for Lucas on instagram. “You guys will die if I find out that you’ve been lying to my face.”

Renjun shook his head in disbelief, sliding his homework to Donghyuck. “When did we ever lie to you Y.N?”

“Just now. “You deadpanned.” 

Donghyuck peered to your phone as he slid back Renjun’s paper after he corrected some numbers. Just what he expected, you were already scrolling through Lucas’ instagram profile with a smile on your lips. He cleared his throat before snatching your phone.

“I heard a lot of things about this guy.” He tried to start again, stretching his arm to push the phone away from your reach, “I heard he’s a player.”

Throughout the past three years, Donghyuck has devised three easy steps. This was the foolproof plan which drove away the boys who tried to make a move on you. Tested and proven to be successful, he believed he mastered this art. 

Step one: I heard a rumor...

Of course Donghyuck went around to do a small background check on this guy the moment you told him. He was prepared.

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself up to grab your phone from him. “You always say that to every guy I like. I know what you’re doing.”

“I do?” Donghyuck chuckled in disbelief as he hid your phone behind his back. The apron was still tied to his waist.

“You do,” Jeno and Renjun answered in monotone, now preoccupied with their homeworks and review notes for their next class this afternoon to actually watch both of you play around. The boy beside you mumbled profanities under his breath before he held a finger in front of you, making you stop.

“He doesn’t do relationships. He’s down for a fling but once he feels that you’re starting to fall in love for real. Oh boy, he’ll leave you right away.” Donghyuck’s words didn’t faze your small crush on Lucas. Besides, what are rumors but baseless allegations, right? But there’s something in the way your best friend told you that made you doubt your image of Lucas.

Donghyuck’s eyes glinted in mischief the moment he saw you in deep thought, urging him to continue the first step of his plan. “Trust me, he used to date my classmate from international business agreements class. Poor her, bawling her eyes as we take the exam. They lasted for a month Y.N, a month!”

He was telling the truth though. Lucas used to date some of your batchmates. Donghyuck was just telling you the rumors that he heard circulating the university. That’s not being an asshole right? Besides, he just wanted to warn his best friend— at least that’s what he thought.

You slumped on your seat, glancing at the clock before mumbling under your breath. “Just give me back my phone please. It’s almost time for class.”

Donghyuck smiled in triumph as he returned your phone, ruffling your hair. “It’s near our building. Renjun and I will walk you there. Hm?”

“I don’t really have much of a choice.” You chuckled the moment Donghyuck’s apron caught your eye. “Do you really plan to go to class with an apron Hyuckie? C’mere,” 

He happily obliged as he showed you his back. His hand tightened his maroon necktie before wearing his black suit jacket once the apron was off. Renjun fixed his maroon necktie as well. His brows knitted in confusion as he tried to redo his answer on the paper. He finally huffed, standing up as he grabbed his black suit jacket. He stretched for a while. 

Jeno on the other hand neatly packed his study materials back to his Herschel backpack, straightening his white uniform as he finally got out of his seat.

You checked your reflection in the mirror as the four of you went to the counter to bid Mama Lee goodbye. Renjun was too fixated with his homework to actually notice his rolled up sleeve. You decided to fix it for him.

Donghyuck repetitively rang the counter bell. “Ma, we’re going already.”

Mama Lee wiped her hands on a hand towel as she got out of the kitchen. She groaned at his son who was playing around. “Oh stop it, will you?”

Her son walked beside her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Mama Lee couldn’t help but grin as Donghyuck gave her a big fat kiss on the cheek. If there’s one thing that you love about Donghyuck despite being a stubborn jerk, it was his loving and caring ass. He became someone you can lean on, a shoulder for you to cry on and a hand that holds your hand wherever you go. Donghyuck felt like home to you.

“Anyways,” Mama Lee hugged her son back. They both share the same eyes and smile, warm like the sun. “I’ll be going home early this Friday. I know you have the usual baseball practice ‘till 9pm just don’t stay out too late okay?”

Your hand let go of Renjun’s white sleeves as you stare at them in disbelief. “You have baseball practice every Friday?”

“No,” Donghyuck shook his head in panic, looking at his mother’s eyes.  “Ma, I think you’re confused. Renjun is the one who has a 9pm debate practice every Friday. Not me,”

“Oh dear, really?” The old lady looked taken aback. “But you and Jeno-”

“Coach has cancelled all our practices. Dunno when we’ll start training again.” Jeno decided to come up with an alibi just to make it up to Donghyuck. His heartbeat quickened but only to breathe a sigh of relief once Mama Lee chuckled.

“I must be getting old. Now,” she patted Donghyuck’s cheek before she pushed him out of the counter, “off to your class little rascal.”

You giggled at the nickname, shooting her a flying kiss as the four of you walked out of the door. “Thank you for the food Mama Lee!” 

“A pleasure dearie! Say hello to your mom for me!” 

A content smile was plastered on your lips, walking to your next class. Jeno waved goodbye before he crossed the street since the nursing building was on the other side of the campus, leaving you in the middle of the two business students. 

“Race to that tree. Loser buys everyone ice cream later!” You were about to open your mouth to scold Renjun and his childish antics but he went running away already. You saw Donghyuck shook his head beside you.

“What are we, kids?” He snickered in disgust before he bolted, in an attempt to catch up with Renjun. “Foul! You lil shit, that’s a head start!”    

You sprinted towards the tree while laughing. For that moment, you forgot about Lucas and how something was fishy about Jeno and Donghyuck’s baseball training schedule. You wanted to ask them about their training just to, you know, get a glimpse of Lucas Wong. Come on, it’s just a stupid little crush. It’s not like you’re going to catch his eye or something.

* * *

The whole week was already over before you knew it. Your tired heavy legs managed to get you to Mama Lee’s cafe alone. Renjun had his usual debate training while Jeno said that he would be studying with his classmates in the nearby McDonalds. Donghyuck on the other hand, told you that he would be on duty right now so he couldn’t hang out at your house tonight. He said that he would be working because he promised his mom that he would take over. So it was a surprise when you saw Mama Lee’s familiar back closing the store with no trace of Donghyuck.

“Mama Lee?” 

Her head turned to you, greeting you with a smile before she pulled you into an embrace. You curiously looked over her shoulder. “Where’s Hyuckie? He told me that he’ll be working tonight’s shift.”     

She waved her hand in front of you whilst laughing. “Donghyuck, that little rascal really is something else. It turns out, I was right all along.”

“Right about what?”

“Him and Jeno having baseball training!” Mama Lee squealed as she put the store keys inside her bag. “He texted me that he was joking before. That boy really made me question my memory. Jeno even played along. What are they up…”

The fact that they have been lying to your face that entire time made you annoyed. You hated it. The fact that they hid and didn’t even tell you that they got in the baseball team made you more pissed. With a tight smile, you waved goodbye to Mama Lee.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you stopped in your tracks as she handed you Donghyuck’s neon green sports bottle. “Be a dear and give this to Hyuck. He always seems to forget his bottle every training.”  

Your fatigue wore off the moment you started marching angrily towards the baseball field. It was quite a walk but you could care less. Your fist tightly clenched on the bottle. The sun was starting to set. The large LED lights started to illuminate the wide baseball field, making it easier to find your two friends.

You were very much on time. The whole baseball team was hanging out on the bleachers. Donghyuck’s last name printed behind his back in dark bold letters along with his jersey number 66. The white striped baseball uniform made his lean legs more elongated. His body shook in laughter as he laughed along with his teammates. Jeno was nowhere to be found as you stormed towards them.

“Hey sixty-six!” You shouted at the top of your lungs, just a few feet away from them. Donghyuck has never whipped his head that fast. He gulped before chuckling nervously  as you came face to face with him. “Your mom told me to give this to you.” 

Out of anger, you shove his water bottle to his chest. Donghyuck staggered backwards, smiling sheepishly. The whole baseball team wolf whistled, obviously enjoying the whole drama unfolding right before their eyes. 

“Hello Y.N!” Mark Lee, who you often see in Donghyuck’s band practice because he plays the electric guitar waved at you excitedly. Not knowing what was happening since he just got there, Mark tried to walk towards you only to be dragged by his teammate to the bleachers who shot the both of you an apologetic look.

“Look I’m sorry, okay?” Donghyuck tried to reach out to you but you avoided his hands as if they were the plague. He pouted, trying to hug you. 

“Sorry your ass,” you swatted his hands away. “You and Jeno have been keeping a lot of things from me. The fact that I get to know the truth through other people makes me so mad. You know how pathetic that feels?” 

“I know, I know and I’m really sorry. I promise I won’t do it again.” Donghyuck gave you a sincere look as he stood in front of you. You crossed your arms. He found you really cute, especially when you’re angry. Donghyuck gave you a charming smile only to last for a while before you rolled your eyes at him, walking towards the bleachers where his teammates are eagerly watching the both of you. 

Donghyuck tugged your canvas bag, making you turn to him. “What can I do to make it up to you then?” 

You slowly smiled. “No more lying and,”

“And?” He urged you to continue. “Say it and I’ll do it Y.N. You have my word.”

“I get to watch your training and official matches!” You squealed, anger subsiding as you finally have the upper hand.

A groan left his mouth as he followed you to the bleachers. “Anything but that!”

Your eyes stared directly at him from where you were seated. Donghyuck squirmed in front of you. You leaned closer to him. His familiar cologne filled your senses. “Does Mark Lee know?”

“Know what?” He whispered, completely intrigued.

“That you were the one who broke the strings of his precious electric guitar last band prac-”

“Okay! Geez, okay!” Donghyuck’s sudden outburst gathered the whole team’s attention. Even Mark, who made eye contact with him. He gave everyone a sheepish smile before facing your smirking face. “You won this time Y.N”

“It’s called a hustle sweetie. I learned it from you.” You gave him a teasing kissy face in which he playfully rolled his eyes at. “Wait, where’s Jeno?”

Donghyuck jogged towards his teammates inside the field, leaving you with his sports bottle. “He went with uh, the captain to grab the baseball bats and gloves from the sports room. Gotta go!”

You nodded, making yourself comfortable in your seat. It was night time already. If it wasn’t for the field’s LED lights, you won’t be able to figure out who’s who inside the field. They were starting their usual warm up routine when you felt a warm hand tapping your shoulder.

“Excuse me,” you looked up, smiling at the stranger. He was wearing a dark blue polo from the engineering department. He ran his hand through his black hair before grinning at you. You must admit, this guy has a cute smile. 

“Is this seat taken?” His hand pointed to the seat beside you. “Are you taken? ‘Cause my friend is not taken yet.”

“By you,” The guy mumbled under his breath quietly. 

You chuckled in amusement, only getting the first part because he was talking so fast. His sudden request made you stare at him in fascination. There was no people sitting in the bleachers except you. Why would he even want to sit right beside you? Not wanting to be rude, you answered him with a smile. “You can sit beside me if you want. I’m watching my friends’ training.”

“Me too!” The raven haired boy sat beside you. “I’m Hendery by the way.”

“Y.N” You answered as your eyes watched Jeno jogging back to his teammates. “So Hendery, who are you with?”

He squinted his eyes, searching for his friend. “I don’t think he’s there yet but he’s jersey number one. How about you?”

“Number sixty-six and twenty-three.” You beamed proudly at him. 

Hendery pointed at someone in front with a grin. “Oh here he is!”    

Your mouth turned dry as you came face to face with the one and only, Lucas fucking Wong. You knew that you were bound to meet again just not this sooner. He was busy tucking his shirt in his white baseball trousers to actually notice that his friend had company.

“Can you hold on to my watch for awhile?” Lucas looked up, throwing his Rolex to Hendery beside you. He shyly smiled as he saw you. “Hi.”

You breathed out, cursing yourself for not dressing up more nicely. “Hi.”

Hendery caught his friend’s watch. Lucas chuckled to himself, scratching his nape in a shy manner. “I remember you. You’re...” 

Everything happened so fast. You didn’t get to hear what Lucas was saying when the ball went flying to your face. Out of reflex, you ducked but that didn’t save you from catastrophe. Your whole body lost balance as you slid down the metal bleachers. It all happened so fast that Hendery was too late to grab you from falling down. 

The next thing you knew, the whole baseball team hovered above you as your eyes slowly fluttered opened. The fall didn’t make your head spin. It was Lucas’ intoxicating cologne along with his large hands shaking your shoulders lightly. His face was just inches away from you as he called out your name. Whoever threw that ball was both a blessing and a curse.

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@nct-writers​

[vanaera]

The Heart Holiday | Act 2 (2/2) | myg

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing their PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.

Characters: Yoongi x Female Reader AU/ Trope: Office AU (Creatives Staff!myg x PA!reader), enemies to lovers, fake dating Genre: fluff, angst, comedy (the triple t(h)reat) Wordcount: 24.5k Warnings: None (PG-15 Rating). There’s a mention of drunken sex but it’s just one sentence. There’s also less cursing now.

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DAY 4 – January 29; Wednesday

               If yesterday had Yoongi weirdly avoiding her like she’s got a highly contagious virus, today’s Yoongi is a hell of a nutcase. This is even far from an understatement. Ever since Y/N set foot in the office, Yoongi is already on her face. “You got my message last night, sweetheart?” He winks as he walks by her side towards the Creatives’ office. When Y/N plops down on her seat, Yoongi’s eyes are already set dead onto her. He’s not sending her his usual ‘I will end you and you know I can’ look. He’s cupping his face and stares at her with wide, big eyes, lips pulled into a small smile. He even goes as far as to wink at her and send her a fucking finger heart. As if it’s not enough, he has spammed her phone with weird shit.

               Mean Yoongi >:( : Good morning, pretty girl.  (8:19 A.M.)

               Mean Yoongi >:( : Did I call you pretty? Oops, I mean little girl AHAHAHHAHAH (9:11 A.M.)

               Mean Yoongi >:( : Don’t ignore me now. I know you’re staring at me 😉 (9:31 A.M.)

               Mean Yoongi >:( : Who wouldn’t when I’m so handsome? (9:32 A.M.)

               Mean Yoongi >:( : You don’t have to tell me. I already know 😉😉😉 (9:35 A.M.)

               Mean Yoongi >:( : Y/Niiiiiiieeeeeeeee (10:16 A.M.)

               It seems like a virus has gotten into Yoongi’s head and tampered with his brain.

               Y/N’s thoughts halt when Dana passes by her cubicle at 11 A.M. She retrieves the folder she gave her yesterday and glosses over the paper where Y/N typed her final picks. “Endmatter, Extreme Cut, Malachite Adventure? And you want to make a hybrid out of them?” Dana glances up at her.

               Y/N nervously clasps her hands together, “Well, I know these templates are usually used for feature articles. So I thought, why not make them appropriate for profile pages, too? No one di-dictated them to be just for features, right? Endmatter has a wonderful layout for pictures. Extreme Cut is good for setting focus on the text blocks. Malachite Adventure has a space-efficient layout for sequencing. If we can combine these three, we could provide something new,” Y/N bites her lip. “Nancy likes new and clean for generic pages like the profiles. So…I guess, why not combine these three templates known for having a clean-cut design?”

               Dana stares at her. Y/N gnaws on her lips. The blonde breaks into a grin. “My, you do research well.”

               Y/N shyly looks down onto the notebook on her desk. She doesn’t do much work other than gathering reports anyway. It’s only logical she spent five hours learning about templates yesterday than not doing anything. She mutters, “I just really put my all when I’m given a job.” 

                “And you did,” Dana smiles, “I think this is even brilliant. I’ll make sure to tweak these three to what you suggested.”

                “Y-you will?” Y/N’s eyes grow big. She could feel her heart hammering loud in her ears.

                “Yeah, why not?” Dana shrugs, “This is new so I’m excited, myself, to try this. And because you know what Nancy likes from all the time you spent with her probably overhearing her roast us all to hell and back, I can at least be assured she won’t be too disappointed with this as our previous submission.”

                “Yeah,” Y/N smiles. Heat spreads onto her ears and warmth settles on her chest. The feeling feels too foreign and surreal but she guesses it’s probably just because It’s been a while since she’s been praised for doing a good job. 

               “Guess you and Yoongi made up, huh?”

               The spreading warmth freezes cold. Y/N looks up at Dana in surprise. 

                “I saw you two earlier being chummy with each other. It even looked like you two have fucking heart eyes,” Dana smiles expectantly.

                “N-no, we’re—” Y/N cuts herself. Right, we’re supposed to be a couple. We should have already started convincing everyone we’re dating each other the moment we agreed on the deal. Y/N gulps, “Umm, uh, yeah?”

               Dana giggles, “You don’t have to be so nervous, you know? I know you two have a thing. For a long time now.” Y/N’s brows meet together. Dana doesn’t dwell on it, gathering the folder back onto her arms, “Thank you for this again, Y/N. See ya later.”

               Dana leaves for the break room and Y/N’s left staring at her back. Her stupor is broken when Yoongi enters her field of vision again, hands occupied with papers.  When he passes by her cubicle, he makes sure to flash her another mischievous wink.

               Y/N groans and slumps her head onto her desk.

                “He’s got my number now, Mina, and to make matters worse, he’s being a winking machine ever since this day started!”

               Mina nods. However, Y/N could tell something is up. Her bestfriend’s eyes are switching from her face and onto her radio and her hands were shaking in her clasp. It’s as if she’s restaining herself. 

               Y/N pauses. She pulls her seat closer to her friend, “Did something happen, Mina?”

               Biting her lips, Mina pins her with a look, “Y/N, promise me you won’t be too surprised.”

               “Why?” Y/N’s eyes grow bigger, “So something really happened? Tell me, Mina.”

                No,” Mina shakes her head. She closes her eyes, “Just promise me you won’t overreact.”

               Y/N’s lips twitch. “Okay.”

               Mina sighs. She turns to her computer and scrolls through her Facebook account. “So yesterday, I’ve been talking with our high school batchmates. They were planning a reunion next month. A big one. They said they’re trying to get ahold of the whole batch. And something caught my eye.” Mina zooms a post on the screen.

               It was a post of Suho Lee, the former Student Council President of their batch in National East Science High School. He took a picture of him and his former members of the council, announcing they’re indeed planning a huge reunion since it’s been a while they’ve seen each other. The post has over a thousand likes by now because Suho made sure to tag almost everyone in the batch. Of course, he’s Suho. Suho knows everybody. Y/N could even see Mina’s name among the tags. But what made her jaw drop is one aberrant name she never expected to be there.

               Min Yoongi.

               Y/N turns to Mina, eyes blown wide, “Mina, what the hell is this?”

               Mina nods, “I’m also shocked, Y/N. I didn’t know he studied in the same high school as us. He’s even our fucking batchmate. I didn’t know—wait, Y/N, where are you going?!”

               Y/N exits the Accounting Department and scrolls through her own Facebook account. She walks in fast strides and heads to where she only knows Min Yoongi will be during lunch: the break room. When she swings open the door, she’s right in her speculation.

               Y/N walks toward the man who’s washing his utensils in the sink.

               “Min.”

               Yoongi pauses and looks to his side, “Oh, sweetheart, you’re here.”

                “Don’t call me sweetheart,” Y/N spits. She flashes her phone to Yoongi. “What’s the meaning of this?”

               Yoongi squints. “It’s a reunion announcement.”

                “Obviously,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I know how to read, Min. And because of that, I know you’ve been tagged here. So, tell me, why is your name here?”

               Yoongi places his washed utensils in the dishrack. “Obviously, I’ll be tagged because I studied at NES High,” He looks at Y/N, leaning his hips against the counter, “Why are you making such a big deal out of a reunion announcement?”

                “Because I studied here too!”

                It’s time for Yoongi to have his eyes bulge out, “Y-you did?”

                “Of course, I did! This is where Mina and I first met!”

                “But I thought you two were just college buddies?”

                “We are! But we belong in the same friend circle in high school first before we got closer in college—this is not the point,” Y/N exasperates, “Why did you not tell me you studied in the same high school?!”

               Yoongi opens his mouth but Y/N cuts him short, “Oh, I know. This is probably the reason why you’re tormenting me ever since you got into Travel Loca.”

               “What?”

               Y/N crosses her arms. “You’re out here to take your revenge on me.”

               The furrows on Yoongi’s forehead deepen.

               “Hello?” Y/N deadpans, waving her hands as if it can shake up Yoongi’s memory, “You’re probably one of the names I removed on some group work we had because you’re a freeloader. No wonder you’re so lazy and such a slack-off when you used to co-P.A. with me.” Y/N holds her head high, “And now, you’re here to take revenge.”

               Yoongi releases a half-scoff, half-laugh, “What?”

               Y/N frustratedly blows a sigh, “In case you did not know, I’m well-known in the batch for removing names of freeloaders in group works. I haven’t kept track of how many names I’ve already removed because they’re that many. And now, you’re here taking your revenge. You don’t have to be petty, Yoongi, you know? If you had unresolved feelings—which I think you don’t have any right to have in the first place because it’s your fault for being lazy and you dug out your own grave—you could have just talked with me like a goddamn adult instead of doing all the shit you did—”

               Yoongi’s guffaw cuts you short.

               Y/N scowls, “Why are you laughing, Yoongi? This is not funny.”

               “Oh, it is!” Yoongi lets out, in-between breaths, “This is hilarious! Revenge? What will I avenge against you when I don’t even know you studied in the same high school?”

               Y/N stops. “Y-you don’t know me? But I’m the valedictorian of our batch!”

              “Not everyone cares to know that, you know?”

               Y/N’s scowl deepens, “Just because you didn’t get any awards in your whole life doesn’t mean you get to demean and undervalue other’s people achievements.”

               “I’m not undervaluing it,” Yoongi takes a step closer to her, “I’m just saying no one spends too much time remembering their batch’s valedictorian. I don’t even remember the summa cum laude of my own batch in college.” Yoongi takes a step closer to Y/N, trapping her back on the counter. He leans forward, closing the space between their faces so small only a hair’s breadth separates their noses from brushing against each other. Y/N lets out an inaudible gasp. Yoongi smirks, “What makes you so different, sweetheart?”

               Y/N places her hands on his shoulders, “Don’t get too proud of yourself, Yoongi.” But before she can push him away, the door swings loudly against the wall and a woman exclaims.

               “Oh my God, I’m so sorry for interrupting!”

               Ms. Teddy. Y/N’s mouth falls open. She weakly hits Yoongi’s chest to back away and pay respect to their temporary boss but Yoongi only holds her fists and gives her a sickening, sweet smile. He turns around to face Ms. Teddy, but not enough to let out Y/N from her position. Yoongi smiles at the general supervisor, “Oh don’t worry Ms. Teddy, you’re not interrupting anything.”

              “Are you sure?” the 45-year-old woman asks. Her wary tone doesn’t match the small blush forming on her cheeks though.

              “I’m sure,” Yoongi replies, facing Y/N, “I’m just trying to ask my sweetheart for a date.” Yoongi turns back to Ms. Teddy, smiling, “Nothing biggie. She just said ‘yes.’”

               Y/N gapes “What—"

               “Oh!” Ms. Teddy perks up, “You two are so sweet! I didn’t know you’re actually a couple! I mean, who would have known? You two always fight with each other. But I guess the movies are right. ‘The more you hate, the more you love.’”

               Y/N tries not to cringe too hard.

               Ms. Teddy chuckles, “What Y/N said before must be true then. Calling you a ‘mean, inconsiderate, self-absorbed jerk’ must be her own unique term of endearment—”

               Y/N raises her brows. How did Ms. Teddy know? Only Steven knows about the mug-chipping incident—” 

                “—I mean, I even used to call my ex-boyfriend ‘stupid asshole,’” Ms. Teddy chuckles. She suddenly releases a frustrated sigh, “God, I still hate him so much.”

               Y/N doesn’t know how to react to that. And so seems Yoongi.

               “Anyway, don’t mind me,” Ms. Teddy waves, a sweet smile plastered on her face again. She walks towards the ref to retrieve a green Tupperware. “I’m just here to grab my cheesecake.” The way her eyes refuse to tear away from the “couple” seems to say otherwise.

              “O-okay,” Y/N says as she looks at Yoongi. It’s a good thing Yoongi is blocking her body from Ms. Teddy. ‘What do we do?’ she mouths at the man.

               Yoongi thinks for a millisecond, then mouths at her, ‘Just follow my lead.’

               Before Y/N can mouth ‘okay,’ Yoongi has closed the gap between them and pressed a quick peck on her forehead. He smiles at her, tucking a stray strand behind her ear, “All right, I’ll see you later then, sweetheart.”

               “A-alright,” Y/N stutters. Yoongi steps away and she quickly makes her way to the door.

               Y/N only notices her hands were tingling when she reaches her P.A. station. And that searing warmth has settled itself on her chest. She plops down on her seat and lets out a tired breath. When she glances at her small mirror, she realizes her face is as red as a strawberry.

               What the hell just happened there?

               Y/N doesn’t get much time to think about it because her phone vibrates next to her leg.

               Mean Yoongi >:( : Let’s meet at The Café Bistro after work. Let’s talk about everything. (1:11 P.M.)

               Y/N doesn’t see much of Yoongi for the rest of the day. He’s probably holed up in the meeting room again just like yesterday. The Creatives were much in a rush since yesterday, probably after receiving the work Yoongi has disseminated. Everyone is hunched over their computers. Some have buried their heads in previous issues and design brochures. While a few were chattering about what design is better for their chosen template than the other.

               And there is one who’s on Y/N’s tail.

               “Oh, Myungsoo, I didn’t see you there,” Y/N glances up from the pile of papers on her desk. 

               Myungsoo doesn’t return the greetings. He leans over her desk and picks one paper to inspect it. “Why do you have this?”

               “Umm,” Y/N looks around the papers strewn around, refusing to look at the frowning man, “Ms. Park gave them to me. She wanted to, uh, have me check them and give some inputs about it.” A smile plays on Y/N’s lips. Dana Lee must have told Yoona about her recent arrangement that’s why Yoona came to her after lunch to ask for advice and critique on what she and her concept team have prepared. It’s quite overwhelming as Ms. Park is one of the respected team leaders in the Creatives. 

              “Ms. Yoona gave you this?” Myungsoo scoffs. Y/N’s smile immediately falls. “Why would she give you this? You don’t know anything about the work we do. You’re just Nancy’s P.A.”

               Y/N internally sighs. Myungsoo has always been wary of her ever since she got in the Creatives but she never knew he will be this hostile. Still, she doesn’t want to cause any unnecessary tension so Y/N tries to placate him. She pulls a polite smile on her face, “That’s why Ms. Yoona came to me. She said since I’m with Nancy for almost 24/7, I must probably know a thing or two about what she likes to see.”

              “But do you?” Myungsoo raises an eyebrow.

              Y/N looks down on the papers, “Y-yeah. Somehow.”

               Myungsoo sighs and drops the paper back onto the pile. “Anyway, I’m here to tell you I’m rejecting your letter of permission to get access to our cover page drafts.”

               Y/N’s head shoots up, “W-what? But Yoongi—”

                “I know what Mr. Min told us this week,” Myungsoo informs. “Yes, we’re tasked to walk you through the activities of our department. However, there are still protocols in our authoritative freedom and I, as a team leader, cannot just give you the drafts of our cover page. We still need more time to work on it and I cannot embarrass myself in front of Ms. Nancy about a work that has not fully taken shape yet.”

                “But didn’t you hear what Yoongi said?” Y/N reasons, “I’m here to help you and I need to give updates to Nancy about everything at every end of the week. Especially now when the department is in full motion.” Y/N cannot give Nancy nothing especially now that Nancy has just emailed her that their issue’s deadline has been moved to February 17. It’s just around the corner. In fact, it’s only a matter of weeks!

                “Well that’s your problem,” Myungsoo retorts, “I’m not the P.A. What I can only give you for your update reports are our initial proposed ideas.”

               But they’re not enough. Y/N closes her eyes, “Look, Myungsoo. I understand that you may be feeling I’m intruding on a space I’m not supposed to. But remember, we’re working together for one company, not for ourselves.” Myungsoo looks like he’s about to bite back but Y/N cuts him to it, “I understand you may feel wary about submitting your concepts for the cover page when they’re still raw. Especially to someone like me who may not completely understand the value you place in your work. However, I cannot just give Nancy undeveloped ideas. So, how about we make a compromise? I’m not gonna push you to walk me through your cover page processing. Or argue more about your raw concepts you’re drafting as of now. But, can you give me at least the plans you made for the undeveloped ideas you’ve chosen your working concept from? So I can still, in a way, report to Nancy the plan your team is trying to execute?”

               Myungsoo stares daggers into her before he mutters a clipped, “Fine. Expect to receive them by the end of the week.”

                “But I have to report them at the end of the week—”

               “End of the week or nothing at all?” Myungsoo sneers, “I can’t rush my artists to finish their concept-making just to take the load off your own job.”

               But I’m not demanding you to make my job easier, can’t you just cooperate like an adult?!—Y/N closes her eyes and sighs, “Okay, understood, Mr. Kim.”      Fighting with him won’t help anything in the pressure the department is facing.

               Myungsoo turns around and wordlessly walks away. YN releases a tired sigh as she goes back onto Yoona’s papers. 

               Hours pass with Y/N finishing her inputs in a document file. Mina has popped by to tell her she’s leaving early to go on a date with Mark. She said she’d probably be home late so they’ll have to continue their conversation earlier tomorrow. However, that was two hours ago and now, it’s already five and almost everyone in the staff has already left the office. She only gets to realize this when a shadow peers over her cubicle.

               “Hey, work’s already over now.”

               Y/N looks up and sees Yoongi smiling at her. His hair was messy as always, probably from pushing them back and carding through them throughout the day. His tie is askew and his button-down is folded messily to his forearms. And his smile felt so gentle. She doesn’t know why but she lets out a relieved sigh.

                “Let’s go to the Café Bistro now, yeah?”

                “Okay,” Y/N smiles back.

               “So…you’re the most hated person in your class for removing names of slackers off group works?”

               Y/N rolls her eyes, “Didn’t you hear what I told you earlier?”

               “Of course, I heard,” Yoongi chortles, scooping a spoonful of his rice bowl, “I just didn’t expect you’ll go for info-dumping in two minutes straight. You really do love to ramble a lot, no?”

               Y/N looks away and stuffs her mouth with a spoonful of her own rice bowl. When she swallows down, she pins Yoongi with a glare, “You can say shit all about how I talk but just so you know, that skill got me so far to where I used to be. I wouldn’t graduate cum laude if I didn’t ace all my speech classes.”

               “I’m not shitting on it. I’m admiring it.” Y/N freezes in her seat to look at the man. Yoongi chuckles. “I’m serious. You don’t have to be constantly on your guard around me, you know? Aren’t we already friends?”

                “F-friends?” Y/N scoffs, “Where the hell did you get that?”

               Yoongi tilts his head, “But I already got your number.”

                “You forced your way to get my number.”

                “I did not force you. You willingly told me your number in a game of 20 Questions.”

               “You covertly formatted your questions to get me to spill my number. I did not willingly tell you my number. You coerced me.”

               “I didn’t. I got your number fair and square,” Yoongi waves his phone.

               “But that doesn’t—”

               “And you already put a name on my number in your contacts,” Yoongi grins, “You even have an emoji next to it.”

                “How did you know?”

                “You opened your phone earlier on the train. And in case you don’t know, the train isn’t one of the most spacious places in the world. We’re practically side by side, look” Yoongi points to the damp patch on his shoulder, “You slept on my shoulder and even got drool on it.” Y/N looks away and stuffs her mouth with another spoon. Yoongi continues, “And with you leaving your phone open for the world to see your messaging app, it doesn’t take two years to see that someone has named you with some obnoxious contact name.” Yoongi opens his phone, “It’s okay though because I also named you this,” he flashes the phone to Y/N.

                >:( Evil Peachy Pie Y/N >:(

               Y/N squints at him. “Fine, a name for a name.”

               “See? That’s why we’re now friends.”

               Y/N scoffs, “How come?”

               “Because you got me a nickname. And I got you one, sweetheart,” Yoongi winks.

               Y/N’s jaw drops, “What the—you know what, go do you and go off to whatever your delusion is feeding you.”

               “Yay! Y/N and I are friends!”

               Y/N gawks at him. Yoongi shrugs with a smile and digs into his food.        

               Chatters fill the bistro. Y/N thinks it’s absurd to combine “café” and “bistro” for the name of an establishment. “It’s as if it can’t choose what type of business it really wants,” she argued earlier to Yoongi on the train. But now that she’s inside, she finally understands why. The interior design of the restaurant is covered in warm orange. The walls and the floor were in mahogany wood. The tables and chairs were metal black with curvilinear gildings, making them look like they’re supposed to be garden furniture in the first place. The plates and bowls were faux wood as well, save for the metal utensils and their glasses that came as mason jars.  And the overhead lights are gorgeous. The faux candles hung up in circular mini chandeliers above the wooden ceiling give off the aesthetic of a gothic palace. Meanwhile, the bar on the center of the shop was of high-quality polished wood. A lot of people are dining like them on the tables but there are also numerous patrons who were in stools, holding different kinds of liquors in their glasses. There’s a free space in front of the bar where Y/N could see couples slow-dancing to the live jazz band playing in the corner. And with the separate menu for alcoholic drinks the waiter had given them earlier, Y/N could finally see why this cafe is also a bistro.

                “So, whose names did you slash off from your group works?”

               Y/N whips her head back to Yoongi, “Why are you so insistent about this?”

               Yoongi pushes his empty bowl to the side. “You said everyone knows you for that. I’m just curious about the slackers who free-rode on you back then. I might even know them since I studied in the same school.” He leans back and places his arms behind his head, “You could totally help me avoid some leeches in life.”

                “First of all,” Y/N points her spoon at him, “You’re the first leech you should know. You slacked off when you were my co-P.A. You slept, you didn’t take calls. You even served me raw for Nancy to roast.”

                “I’m sorry.”

               Y/N’s brows shoot up. “W-what?”

               Yoongi leans forward and clasps his hands together. He looks at the woman in the eye, “I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Sincerely. I admit I was too much of an asshole back then. I tried to justify it by thinking you’re annoying so you deserve some annoyance in life, too. But in the end, I know I’m still wrong. You being annoying or not, what I did was still wrong. I’m sorry.”

               Y/N’s jaw drops as she leans slowly back in her seat. Did Yoongi just apologize to her? Again? And for three consecutive times tonight? What is up with him?

                “You don’t have to forgive me, you know? Nor am I telling you these just to get the guilt off my back. I’m sincerely sorry. I want to apologize to you.”

                “W-what are you suddenly on about?” Y/N tries to laugh but the sound is weird in her ears. “You got so serious, I thought I’m suddenly talking with a stranger.” Y/N tries out a chuckle again. It sounds more convincing to her this time. She waves her hand dismissively, “Anyway, I didn’t actually answer your question. You’re talking about high school so here it goes.” She looks up at the ceiling, “Well, I’ve got Johnny Lee, Byun Baekhyun, Park Mirae, Lee Jieun, Mark Peters” Y/N cups her jaw, “What’s more? Oh! How could I forget—Jennie Kim, Im Nayeon, Daewon Lee—”

                “Wait, Daewon Lee?” Yoongi sits up, “You mean Daewon the quarterback? And Jennie Kim and Im Nayeon, the cheerleaders?”

                “Why?” Y/N leans forward, “You know them personally?”

                “God, yes,” Yoongi laughs, “They’re awful.”

                “Tell me about it,” Y/N’s eyes sparkle in interest.

                “Well,” Yoongi starts, “we had this class project where we have to recreate a scene from a well-known play or movie. Our class was assigned to do Hairspray. And Jennie Kim was our class president so of course, she was horrible. She re-proved this fact when she decided to go dictator and exercise penalties on anyone who would be late for the rehearsals. She freaking imposed that we have to pay $2 for every minute we were late. All is fine if she didn’t assign her own home as the practice place and there’s a lot in the class who lives a good two miles away. And it didn’t help almost everyone just agreed with it because no one decided to contest it in fear of turning the majority against them. It was horrible. All the late fees were put in our class fund. It accumulated to about $100 at the end of the day and that’s very unfitting when NES High is a fucking public school. 

                “$100?” Y/N gawks.

                “Yeah.  Moreover, it’s unfair, because we all know at the end of the school year, the class fund will be divided among each student. With the late fees being implemented, it looks like people who are Jennie and those who live near her will benefit for free from these late fees. Luckily, someone was brave enough to stand up and talked it out with them. And of course, with Jennie being Jennie, she flipped out so the whistleblower eventually had to go to the headteacher of the event to settle the issue. I’m kinda ashamed about this incident. I’m one of the many who just went with the majority because,” Yoongi frustratedly cards through his hair, “I was a bit of a pushover back then.”

               Y/N gapes, “Y-you? A pushover? Oh my god, you’re like the stereotypical nerd in movies who does a 180 to seek revenge!”

               Yoongi squints at her, “Will you stop with the revenge plot you’ve been pushing since this morning?”

                “Okay,” Y/N says but her face looks otherwise with her trying hard to hold in her chuckles.

               Yoongi breaks into a chuckle as well, “God, you look ridiculous.”

                “So are you,” Y/N laughs. When the snickers die down, she waves at Yoongi, “Go on with the story.”

                “Okay,” Yoongi breathes out, “So that was the first strike for this dumb shit squad. The second was worse for it affected the whole batch. It was when the school coordinators tasked each class with a specific dance genre to perform. And Jennie, being the unnecessarily extra bitch that she was, decided to fuck up the arrangement by forcing another class to exchange their assigned piece with ours. Of course, this sparked chaos because when other classes have heard about this, they wanted to exchange, too. And soon, everyone was arguing how they want to exchange or keep their assigned pieces. It’s so messy that the teachers had to hold a batch-wide meeting with all the class officers to settle things out. Luckily, there was someone who stood up and outright pointed out it was Jennie who started it all because she did not ask for the other classes’ consent in the first place—” 

                “Wait, are you talking about me?” Y/N cuts him, eyes wide. “I’m the one who first called out Jennie in the meeting!” Y/N exclaims, “I can’t hold myself back that day because I’m so sick of everyone just willingly and silently enduring her bullshits! All of this wouldn’t happen in the first place if she wasn’t such a shitty, entitled person. I even remember Jennie staring daggers at me as if doing so can reverse what happened when the teacher told her off in front of the whole batch.” Y/N’s brows meet together, “How did you know about this though? Even if it was supposed to be a batch-wide meeting, not everyone was present. The teachers didn’t make the meeting compulsory especially for the students who feel uncomfortable going against another student.”

                “Everyone kind of knows. News about Jennie being roasted by the teacher after a student doused her with the realest true as fuck accusation is enough of a big deal to go around the school.” Yoongi tilts his head, “I just didn’t catch wind it was you.” 

                “Yeah, but,” Y/N self-consciously rubs her nape, “I just did what I felt was right. I don’t like it when people just stay silent when wrongdoings are deliberately happening in their faces.”

                “You’re right,” Yoongi smiles, “and because of that, I’m thinking I’m starting to admire you.” Y/N immediately freezes the heat on her chest back again. She feels it starting to spread up onto her face.

               Yoongi, either unaware of her reaction or plainly indifferent about it, just smirks and continues. “Now, that I finished my story with these terrible fucks, it’s your turn. What did they do that you striked these three names off?”

               Y/N lets a small smile grow on her lips as she crosses her arms. “It was Daewon who I striked first. As early as 7th grade, mind that. We were groupmates for our Bio experimental case study and he didn’t do a SINGLE thing. Very first year in high school and he’s already letting everyone know he’s a shitty groupmate. So end result? A slashed-off name and an immature ‘pity me’ cryfest in front of the professor.”

                “Who’s the professor, if you don’t mind me asking?”

               Y/N grins, “Mr. Ascott.”

                “Oh shit, Mr. Ascott?!” Yoongi chokes a laugh, “Oh my god, and he dared to cry and ask for pity! Of all people, to the prof who detests freeloading the most?!”

                “Yeah,” Y/N snickers, “That’s why it’s so hilarious! Imagine the what-the-fuck face Mr. Ascott has when this spoiled boy tried to cry his way out of his mistake. He looked like he’s about to blast harder than Mauna Kea!”

               Yoongi laughs, waving a hand over. “Who’s next?”

               Y/N blows out a sigh to die down her giggles, “The next one was Nayeon. 11th grade. We’re a pair this time and we’re tasked to make a research about the communication systems of a business. Whenever I tell her we need to meet up, write the paper, or even talk online for the planning at least, Nayeon kept on coming up with ridiculous excuses like how she’s come down with a fever because she ate a lot of rice or she can’t walk because of a motherfucking aching toenail. She even stood me up in the café I told her to go to, to finally get things done. Talking normally with her is impossible. So yeah, I passed the research with just my name on it.” 

               Y/N tilts her head, “And last but not the least, Jennie Kim. 12th grade. We had to make a lab report for Chemistry as a group. She said she’s sorry she won’t be able to contribute anything because she needs to be home soon as her mother is deeply sick in the hospital. We understood and told her it’s okay. Only for us to see in her Snapchat later she’s partying hard in a bar,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “But what irritates me most were ironically, not these.”

              “Did something more happen?”

              “Yes! These three didn’t see any of these as their faults! They saw it as me just being a bitch and picking on them! And because they have such loud mouths, news about me as a ‘name-remover bossy bitch’ traveled fast. Every first day in class per year, a lot of students are already looking at me funny. Throughout the school year, they go as far as ignoring and avoiding me.” YN crosses her arms and directs her eyes onto her empty bowl. “But I’m alright. I don’t care shit about what others have to say about me when I know I’m in the right. I don’t need lots of friends in the first place anyway.”

               “But it must have been hard to be alone.”

               Y/N’s head shoots up, “What do you mean?”

                “To be hated by almost everyone in the class,” Yoongi pulls a sad smile. “It must have been painful in a way. To be treated as an outcast when you didn’t even do anything wrong.”

               “I-I wouldn’t call myself an outcast during that time, you know?” Y/N picks up her glass to drink, looking away.

               “Well, if you say so. I just thought it would have been…difficult to be alone most of the time. To feel as if everyone hates you. Personally, I don’t care when people talk shit about me. But this feeling that everyone just…doesn’t want to be with you hits me quite hard. I don’t know if you’ve felt this. I just know I will feel like this if I was in your position.”

               Y/N, with eyes still trained away from Yoongi, just hums, “…Yeah.” 

               An awkward silence was starting to settle again until Yoongi breaks it with a sigh, “From all of this, I’m realizing our high school didn’t do a great job in giving us a wonderful experience.”

               Y/N turns back to him. She pours water in her glass and mutters, “You’re right. High school is shit.” She leans back in her chair, glass in her hand as she looks at him. “Do you have more bitter stories to tell?”

               Yoongi fiddles with his fingers. “Well, there’s one. I mean, there’s a lot because high school wasn’t that kind to people like me back then. But this one really stuck with me. I’ve been…friends with a lot of toxic people throughout high school. At first, I didn’t notice it. How they lowkey downgrade me whenever we hangout. How they always make me the butt of their jokes. How they always leave me out in any of their fun plans for getaways. I even tried justifying their actions, telling myself it’s probably I’m not yet too cool for them. That I still need to fit more with them. And when I finally realized the wrongness in this during one summer, I cut them all out in my life. Only to end up in another friend circle that turned out to be also toxic. Though it’s less toxic than my first one, it’s still toxic. They made me feel bad for doing my best in school, calling me such a conformist to the education system as if it’s so wrong. They made me feel horrible for just studying and preparing too much for quizzes and exams, telling me I’m just investing a lot of time on something I wouldn’t even use when I work. And for the second time, I justified my ‘friends.’ I thought maybe they’re right. I have to listen to them because maybe they’ll leave me and I will have no one else who’d be willing to be friends with me. I only got the wake-up call when my grades all fell down and I had to repeat 10th grade.”

               Y/N’s eyes grow large, “B-but, you said it was because of Thesis Writing?”

                “Yeah. Thesis Writing was the one that maimed me bad. But what led me to fail it so terribly was because of these second group of friends…Rina, Johnson, and Fei—

               Y/N immediately holds up her hands, “Wait, I-I-you don’t have to tell me their names if you don’t want to, Yoongi. You—I don’t know, maybe the memories come back and trigger you—I-I’m not that eager to know their names, you know? I just want to listen to you.”

               Yoongi chuckles and Y/N’s eyes only grow more. “I’m telling you their names because I already got over it, Y/N,” Yoongi informs. “I already feel comfortable telling this to you, sweetheart. Though I have to admit I’m loving what you said a little too much.”

               Y/N frowns, “Wh-why do you have to say stupid shit like this? Can’t you just continue your story?”

                “I have to say these because you’re being cute.” Y/N only frowns more. Yoongi chuckles, “Okay, okay, I’ll go back to my story.” He heaves out a sigh, “So, these Rina, Johnson, and Fei—well, they made me feel the efforts I put into studying will be pointless. That the dreams I have will be unattainable anyway because the world will never let them come true for people like me—not rich, not talented, not smart enough. And because of this mentality discouraging me whenever I try too hard, coupled with the messed-up confidence I had because of my first friendship circle, I turned out to be a…horrible speaker. But I think I shouldn’t blame them for this. I also have faults in this because after all, this is my life. Maybe I’m too easily swayed, easily discouraged, and too dependent on other’s company back then.”

                “You’re right on that,” Y/N says, “but I think the people who have affected you to be what you were back then are rightfully justified to be blamed for. Or even deserve the greater blame. We’re teenagers and we do stupid things. And during our teenage years where we feel so confused about just everything, what mattered the most was the feeling of belongingness. The feeling of belonging to someone or something. This feeling gives us a way to identify ourselves and our purpose. Erik Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development even say so. Yeah, we also have faults in ourselves that are worth blaming for and working on, but people are social beings. And most of the time, we become who we are because of other’s words, actions, and influence,” Y/N pulls her lips in an attempt to send him a comforting smile, “You don’t have to beat up yourself too much.”

                “Whoa,” Yoongi gapes, “Just…wow.” He shakes his head, “I don’t even know what to say…And this is weird because I always know what to say,” Yoongi chuckles and Y/N follows suit. “I mean,” Yoongi tongues his cheek, “How did you come up with these?”

               “Because I also experienced having friends like you had.”

               You did?” It’s Yoongi’s turn to gawk at her.

               “Yeah,” Y/N purses her lips. “It was in high school too. Even if I was lucky I skipped 8th and 9th grade, I wasn’t immune to toxic people. The friends I had in my first year, honestly…scar me until now. They downed me too many times, too, telling me I’m not that good, or I’m too intimidating for people would like to be with. They even called me annoying,” Y/N cackles. But her laugh soon dies down when she looks at Yoongi’s unamused look. “U-um,” She ducks her head down and fiddles with the seams of her blazer, “That’s not really funny, I’m sorry.”

                “They’re not,” Yoongi deadpans, “Especially when it’s deprecating the person you should first and foremost care: You.”

               Y/N’s head shoots up.

               Yoongi lets a small smile grace over his face. “Go on with your story.”

               “U-uh, yeah,” Y/N opts to play with her fingers this time, “So yeah, I ended up…downing myself, too. Berating and insulting myself even worse than those toxic people did. I even discouraged myself from even trying. I stopped myself before I even get to start at something that induces passion within me—dance, art, singing, whatever. I halt myself first before anyone can. Other’s words against me hurt me more than my own words. The only silver lining I had was when I got to 10th grade and met Mina,” Y/N grins. “Even if I still get reminded of the scars I got from my ex-friends, I’m grateful I also learned what’s it really like to have a friend for the first time.” Y/N turns to Yoongi, “What about you? Did you find at least…one friend before high school ended?”

                “More than one actually,” Yoongi smiles. “I met three in 11th grade. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin. Even if Namjoon graduated earlier, we three eventually met each other again in college. God, ever since I befriended those three, I never knew again what it’s like to be a loner. I know it’s kinda late that I get to enjoy high school but I had the most fun I could ever have in those last two years. Though college is still god-tier. That’s when I was really the happiest” Yoongi chuckles. He leans back in his chair and sighs, “Even if the majority of the memories our high school gave us were shit, I think it still tried its best to give everyone a memorable experience.” Yoongi smiles, “What’s a memorable experience you could thank the school for?”

               Y/N opens her mouth but Yoongi quickly cuts her short, “And no, don’t say it’s meeting real friends. Other than that, any memorable experiences you had?”

               Y/N looks to her right, brows scrunched, “Hmm…it had to be…Oh! The science expo held in our gym in our last year!”

                “The expo?  The one they held as our ‘field trip’—in our very last year of high school at that—because they ‘lack’ funds for an actual one?”

                “Yeah,” Y/N smiles wide, “I actually enjoyed it a lot. There’s a large model of the Megalodon jaws wide open that you have to step into to enter the expo. Its teeth are so big and gosh, I love sharks. I love the documentaries about them. And oh, there’s also a bus that’s remodeled to have lab tables instead of seats. We get to look at microscopes magnifying different microorganisms and micro-things. It’s like a running test in chem but fun! And my favorite one had to be the astronomy tent-dome. I call it that because it’s a humongous black sheet of a tent that’s shaped to look like a dome. We had to crawl inside to get in. It reminded me of how I loved to play pillow forts in my room when I was a kid. And then inside, there’s someone there who actually works at NASA that plays the videos of constellations on the dome above us. And he’s amazing because he knows all the stars in the Milky Way! He even broke the myth concerning your birth month and Zodiac sign. The constellations of your Zodiac sign don’t usually appear during your ‘zodiac month’!”

               “They don’t?”

               “Yeah! I’m an Aries and yet the constellation most apparent in the sky during my month is Libra instead. I’ve never seen the Aries constellation before on my birthday. It’s always Libra. Okay, don’t look at me like I’m a hoe for Astrology—I’m not. I just fell in love with Astronomy after that expo and I ended up memorizing a lot of constellations and trying to point them out in the sky and—

               “I’m not looking at you like you’re a ‘hoe for Astrology,’” Yoongi quotes, chuckling. “I’m looking at you because honestly, I’m amazed by you. Really. I never enjoyed that expo, because honestly, I like learning the actual stuff in real-time. But to have you spouting such mindblowing trivia and how you just talk so animatedly about it makes me want to time travel to that day and re-experience it. Really, you amaze me.

               Y/N coughs into her hand, an attempt to out-volume the thrumming tinnitus she feels between her lungs. She pulls a tight smile and looks up at Yoongi, “What about you? What memorable experience did you have to thank high school for?”

               “The prom,” Yoongi grins. “It’s my first time to be in such a glamorous setting that I instantly thought it would be my last time I could ever experience such pizzaz. Everyone looked so regal. There are ball gowns, luxurious suits, glittering decors, and lush carpeting I could spend years standing on just because it feels so pillowy soft beneath my feet. The venue had gothic pillars and renaissance paintings and rose-gold gilded chandeliers that hang above, looking like it hooked all the stars in the galaxy beneath its dangling diamonds. The food was great, too. I honestly couldn’t believe a public high school could afford this—well, there’s actually a lot of upper-middle-class families who pitched in some money but I only found out about this two weeks after the prom. Although we had a grad ball, it still couldn’t top 10th-grade prom. Sure, there’s a lot of people mingling and I’m too much of an introvert to enjoy socializing. But when I just sat and watch the party go, the picture in front of me looked so similar to the Yule Ball shown in the Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire movie and it’s just so fascinating. And—wait, why are you looking like that?”

                “N-nothing,” Y/N shakes her head. She also hopes to shake away the utter wonder that must be obvious in her face. Mina always said she shows excitement so easily on her face.

               And too bad Yoongi pushes her buttons so well that he could easily read her. “What ‘nothing’? You look so amazed as if you’ve never been to a prom—wait, you’ve never been to prom, haven’t you?” 

              There’s no point to lie otherwise. Y/N looks down at her lap and admits, “You’re right. I’ve never been to prom. Or even the grad ball.”

              “Why?”

              “Because I find them a waste of money. Hundreds of money for a dress you’ll never wear again and spend a couple more for the admission when you’re just gonna sit at the table for the whole time. The grad ball was an inconvenience because it’s set on the day before my birthday and of course, my birthday is worth celebrating more than the grad ball.” Yoongi chuckles at that and a small smile forms on Y/N’s lips. However, it quickly dissolves into a straight line as she continues, “And I didn’t go to prom because it’s stupid. The admission fee you have to pay is honestly over-priced. Of course, all of the payment won’t go to the rented place because the school is still gonna get a percentage from it. Then everyone is just gonna dance around and get wasted and you’ll just have to seat throughout the whole meltdown because you’re responsible and aside from that,” Y/N heaves out a huge sigh, “there’s a high probability you’ll bump into a horrible boy.”

              “Oh!” Yoongi claps loudly, “A boy problem—!”

               “I’m not gonna tell you his name,” Y/N points a finger at him. “It’s all in the past and, I’m just,” Y/N sighs, “well, over it.”

               “What did he do?” Yoongi asks, tone soft, a lot less bombastic as his previous exclamation. “What did he do to—I don’t know, give up prom to avoid him?” He sits up straight and holds up his hands, “If you don’t mind me asking and if you feel okay to answer it, of course. If not, it’s also totally okay, and—” 

               “He gave me false hope,” Y/N deadpans, swirling the water in her glass. “I thought there’s something developing between us because he does an awful lot of sweet things for me like letting me lay my head on his shoulder whenever I need to catch on some sleep in our school service. He even helps me carry my things and walk me to class. Only for me to find out he actually likes another girl in our school service. I felt used. Like a ploy to get the girl he likes to be jealous of us.” Y/N sets her jaw on her palm. “And so, I didn’t go to prom. Because I know that girl will reject him when he asked for her first dance ‘cus she already got a mutual thing going on with her classmate. And I don’t want to be a second choice, a back-up plan someone will opt for when their first choice didn’t work out. I’m not going to be a reserve part for something someone built with a different part in mind.” Y/N takes a sip on her glass. She places it back on the table, “I still feel aggravation for him so I don’t want to hear his name again. But I’m over him now, so you don’t have to look at me like that.”

               “L-like what?” Yoongi asks, pulling on the collar of his gray button-down.

               “Like you’re angry for me. We’re not yet close to be feeling this way.”

               “But we’re friends.”

               “You’re the only one who decided on that label.”

               “We are friends.”

               “Whatever satisfies you of your delusions—”

               “And because we’re friends, I could tell you wished you experienced prom.”

               “W-what?” Y/N’s jaw drops.

               Yoongi smiles at her, “You don’t have to hide it Y/N. I know you.” He stands up from his seat and offers a hand to her, “Now, let’s go.”

               “Where are we going?” Y/N asks, still seated.

               “We’ll dance.” Yoongi’s smile widens. “The Café Bistro has a wonderful live band playing and as you can see, there’s also a lot of people dancing to the lovely songs they’re playing…This is the closest setting we can have to a prom.”

               Y/N gulps down a nervous breath as she looks up at Yoongi’s eyes. She takes his hand.

               Yoongi leads her to the center of the slow-dancing throng of people. The live band plays in front of them, a group of wonderful men and women wearing elegant black gowns and suits, playing classical instruments to the music of popular love songs. Everything looks pleasant even if nothing about this set-up is grand. The couples are just in casual clothes but watching them have fun slow-dancing to the music feels like they’re actually in a ball. And the faux candles that hung above the Café Bistro doesn’t look like chandeliers in a Gothic palace anymore. They’re bright and glittering as if the café fished all the stars from the night sky to hang onto their own makeshift sky. Yoongi’s right. This indeed looks like a prom.

               “Hmm, am I right now?”

               Y/N turns to him and playfully pokes his shoulder, “Shut up.” A second no longer need to pass by when a huge smile makes its way onto Y/N’s face.

               Y/N and Yoongi had their hands interlocked as they move to the rhythm. Yoongi initially proposed to have their hands and feet positioned for waltz only for Y/N to bump her head on his shoulder to get him to shut up. Yoongi only ends up cackling obnoxiously. 

              Stepping side to side, arms swaying by their sides, they look like two adult penguins waddling towards each other. When Y/N pointed this out, Yoongi bursts into another set of cackles.

               However, when the song changes and A Thousand Years by Christina Perri starts to play, Yoongi’s chuckles instantly die down and a mindboggling statement escapes from his lips.

               “Put your hands around my neck.”

               “What? Are you fucking crazy?”

               “Hey, the song is romantic.”

              “So?” Y/N raises a brow, “What does it logically have to do with putting my arms around your neck? And also, this song is one hell of a cliché. A love song bulldozered and abused over and over again in every debut, wedding, and prom—”

              “It’s played over and over again because a lot of people relate to it. Who wouldn’t? It talks about love.”

              “Well, I wouldn’t.”

              Yoongi sighs, “Look, all the couples here are slow dancing to this song and since we’re already posing as one, might as well copy them.”

              “Well, I don’t wanna.”

              “If you’re thinking this will be a revolutionary moment between us, I’m already informing you it won’t be. It’s just slow dancing,” Yoongi shrugs, “We did this in prom. It’s not that special, to be honest. I’m tryna offer you the prom experience, remember?”

              Y/N focuses her eyes on the seams of her blazer, a petty frown on her face. “I’m positively sure we’ll look stupid if we slow dance so I’d rather not. In case you don’t know, I hate embarrassing myself.”

               “Hey, you don’t get to sound so sure with your prediction when you haven’t tried it out yet. I’m just asking you if you would feel okay to slow dance with me. But if not, I will totally understand—” 

               Y/N loops her arms around Yoongi’s neck. “There,” she hisses, “Satisfied?”

              “Very,” Yoongi grins, looping his arms around her frame, gently placing his hands on the back of her waist.

              “Now shut up,” Y/N turns her face away from him. She could feel Yoongi so close. She could feel the breath he lets out comb past her hair. She could feel the warmth from his neck seemingly transfer onto her hands. His chest is just an inch apart from hers for him to discover the rapid beating reverberating there ever since this day started. Y/N closes her eyes and sighs. She doesn’t understand why she’s feeling this way. She chucks it down to the theory that it’s just been a long day. She’s astounded to learn Yoongi was her high school batchmate, then Myungsoo turned up and made her frustrated, and now she’s practically having fun because Yoongi offered an entire 180 from her previous emotional state. 

              But maybe it’s also because it’s been so long since Y/N received physical intimacy. It’s been ages she felt a warmth from another person’s touch. She couldn’t even remember being so enthralled just because someone platonically wanted to dance with her. But then, it could just be her desire to get over these ten dates required by DRM speaking for her body. The sooner the better they say and as of now, she’s nailing down their third date document.

              Y/N knows this must be the answer when the night deepens and the band plays the last song for the night. After receiving a pale pink envelope from the sweet manager, the night dwindles fast to where she is now: walking home, side by side with Yoongi. She thought there was a reason Yoongi picked a date site that would require them to take a train first. She just didn’t expect she will get the answer to this when Yoongi offered to walk her home. ‘It just a ten-minute walk from here,’ Yoongi insisted. And right now, it looks like he’s right because it’s only a matter of time until they reach the entrance of the Village Estates.

               “So, we’re here now,” Yoongi says, sliding his hands into his coat pockets. 

               “Yeah,” Y/N smiles back. Then she perks up, suddenly remembering something, “By the way, how come did you know about Café Bistro?”

               Yoongi leans toward her, face leveling hers. “We work for a travel magazine, Y/N. Of course, we should know about this stuff. Our Writing Department even did a feature about it.” Y/N’s brows shoot up. Yoongi leans back, putting space between them again, “I’ve been wondering ever since we got in as to why you looked so amazed at the Bistro as if it’s your first time seeing something like that. And now I know why. It is indeed your first time. You’ve never been to a lot of tourist spots before, much less even those near you.”

               “No. I’ve been to a lot, actually,” Y/N lies through her mouth.

               “I don’t think so,” Yoongi quips. Y/N frowns. Yoongi’s smile widens, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take you to places you’ve never been before.”

               His gaze on her was not teasing, nor was it mischievous. And Y/N decides she doesn’t like it when she can’t tell the look in his eyes. She takes a step back and clears her throat. “Goodnight, Yoongi,” she bids, and then she starts for the entrance.

               Just when the peace of the night is about to settle on her, Yoongi, of course, decides to break it one last time.

               “I had fun tonight, girlfriend! Or should I say girl-friend?”

               Y/N continues with her steps, raising a middle finger in his direction. Yoongi laughs and that’s the last sound Y/N hears for the night as she enters her empty flat. 

              A text from Mina says she’s going home in an hour. After preparing her bestfriend a midnight snack just in case she’s still hungry, Y/N turns on the lights on their hallway and resigns herself in her room. Picking the date document from her bag and the other two on her counter, Y/N plops onto her bed, holding up the pale pink envelopes above her face. It’s been a while since she had fun collecting these pretty envelopes. When she first encountered these date documents five years ago, she thought they were silly. But as she twirls them under the light of her room, she thinks they’re actually genius. After all, attention and quality time spent together are good measures to see if a couple is really dating.

              “We just need seven more,” Y/N whispers, closing her eyes. As the starless night grows darker outside her window, the coffee-stained scent of today’s pale pink envelope lulls Y/N to sleep with a smile on her face.

DAY 5 — January 30; Thursday

               Y/N is at her wit’s end. It’s already 12 in the noon and nothing terrible has happened yet. It’s Thursday. Thursdays are supposed to already have it bad for her the moment the day starts. But Y/N woke up feeling nice from a good night’s sleep. It was early so she had a fun breakfast with her bestfriend where they spent an extra half-hour talking about each other’s dates. Though it sounded more like Mina’s the only one who went to an actual date because Y/N spent the majority of her turn to speak ranting about Yoongi’s smugness and whatnot. The train wasn’t crowded when she commuted to work. She and Mina even managed to get seats at seven. And in the office, nothing unwanted has happened yet. Well, of course, there’s Yoongi who still won’t stop sending her weird texts and occasional winks.  Everything is okay and normal as usual until—

               “Hey, Y/N, wanna have lunch with us?”

               Y/N turns in her swivel chair and there standing by the Accounting’s glass door were three people. Dana Lee, Jeff Anderson, and Ahn Seojoon.

               Dana continues, smiling at her, “If you didn’t have lunch yet, of course.”

               Y/N whirls to face Mina before turning around back to Dana, forehead furrowed, “I’m sorry, Dana, Mina and I already have—” 

               “No, Y/N hasn’t lunched yet!”

               Y/N whips her head to her bestfriend. Mina smiles at her, “Y/N, you should go ahead.”

              Y/N sighs, “But Mina, you would be alone today. We always eat lunch together. And aren’t you supposed to tell me more of what happened in the show you’re watching?”

              Mina claps her friend’s shoulder, “Y/N, it’s alright. We see each other in and outside the office every day. We can just talk later when you get home. Or tomorrow if you end up having another date tonight with Yoongi. After all, you told me before you want to have more friends in the office. Well, here is the chance!”

              “What chance are you talking about? And when the hell did I say I want more friends—”

              “Dana,” Mina hollers, “Y/N said she’ll go!” 

              This chance, however, was not what Y/N expected it to be. Because now, Y/N finds herself in some Mexican restaurant with three pairs of curious eyes focused on her and an unexpected guest sitting beside her.

               Y/N crosses her arms. “You didn’t tell me Yoongi would be here.”                “Well, surprise?” Jeff shrugs.

               “We figured since you and Mr. Min are…really close, why not invite him?” Seojoon explains. 

              “So,” Dana twirls her straw around her smoothie, “what’s the thing between you and Yoongi?”

               Y/N perks up in her seat. Jeff gawks at Dana. “Why did you have to be so straightforward about it?”

               “So we can finally get the answers we’ve all been waiting for,” Dana says matter-of-factly. “For one year these two are like oil and water. And then this week they’ve become chummy-chummy. I always knew there’s something going on between you two but I can never point it out. And now that you two decided to come out in the open, I guess I can also finally get my answers.” She turns back to Y/N, “So, what are you two really?”

               “Yoongi’s my, um, special friend—” 

               “Y/N’s my girlfriend—”

               Dana’s brows twitch. Yoongi quickly reaches over to pinch Y/N’s cheeks, “Oh sweetheart, you don’t need to feel so shy anymore. We’re no longer special friends so start feeling comfy to call yourself my girlfriend.”

               Seojoon coughs into his hand. Dana and Jeff slowly nod. Jeff leans forward, “So…how did you two meet?”

              “In high school. We’re kinda friends—” 

              “In the office. It’s love at first sight—” 

               Y/N eyes Yoongi. Yoongi grins. Y/N looks back at Jeff, but not without pinching Yoongi’s leg to stop him from spouting any more bullshit. Y/N smiles, “Yoongi and I met back in high school. We were batchmates.”

               “Oh, high school sweethearts!” Seojoon claps, grinning.

               “Not necessarily,” Y/N says, “We just kinda knew each other back then. And then we met each other again in Travel Loca.”

               “I see,” Dana holds her chin, as if in thought, “You two sure looked like you’ve known each other for so long…You know each other so well that you get to hit each other’s flaws so accurately whenever you bicker. Right?” Dana looks at Y/N.

               “Right,” Y/N grins. She unconsciously gulps down a nervous chuckle. “I-it wouldn’t make sense if we insult each other so well when we don’t know each other for a long time right? More even, fall in love?”

               From the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Yoongi’s head tilt, lips pursed together. It’s his face when he’s about to voice disagreement. She pinches his leg again to get him back to his senses.

               “Ye-yeah,” Yoongi stutters, “You must know a person for a long time before you can insult them well. Or love them.”

               Dana and Jeff nod their heads slowly, looking convinced. Except for Seojoon. The intern shakes his head, “I think not. You don’t need to know a person for a long time to fall in love. Or to even insult them. Hate or love—it just happens.”

               “Yeah,” Jeff agrees. “I think this felt more right. It doesn’t really require you long to hate another person for some unexplainable reason. Or fall in love with them.”

               “How did you know about this?” Y/N asks, clicking her tongue.

               Jeff looks unbothered by the questioning look on Y/N’s face. He leans back in his seat with a smile, “Because that’s how my girlfriend and I got together. We only knew each other for three weeks and it didn’t take me a day longer to know I’m whipped for her. In those three weeks, we even spent the first week really hating each other bad,” Jeff chuckles, “We used to scream at each other for hours across the windows of our apartments.”

               The furrows in Y/N’s forehead deepen, “B-but, how did you love her when you just hated her a week ago?”

               “Because love and hate have a lot of similarities,” Jeff says. “I think there’s a fine line between such differing emotions. People say it’s an end-to-end spectrum but I think that spectrum may not be as long as people make it out to be. I think they’re just two ends that sit opposite to each other. Anyone can cross from one to another and vice versa so easily. Kinda explains why you can love someone while also hating them a bit. And why you can hate or love something for so long and not consider changing your stance. Even if love is just a bridge away, its whole argument opposes the argument of hate. That’s why it feels the spectrum of love is a very long road to take—a wall too high to reach, making it hard for transitioning from one end to another. But, I don’t know,” Jeff shrugs, grinning. “Life is complex. Sometimes love and hate…just happens.”

               Seojoon and Dana nod slowly. However, Y/N feels otherwise. ‘Easy and hard to cross’? ‘It just happens’? What kind of nonsense is this—Y/N opens her mouth to argue—If not for Yoongi clasping a hand around her shoulders and urging her to stand up from her seat, “I’ll think we’ll order more tacos for us. My treat. We’ll be real quick.”

               Yoongi drags Y/N to the line forming in front of the cashier. When they’re a couple of steps away from the group, Y/N shrugs his arms away from her shoulders. She glares at him, “What do you think are you doing?”

               Yoongi tongues his cheek, “I should be the one asking you that! What do you think are you doing there? Trying to argue with my friends about something so trivial like Jeff’s perception of love? It’s his views, let him be!”

               Y/N crosses her arms, “Jeff is spouting nonsense. I just felt the need to correct him.”

               “How would you know Jeff is spouting nonsense? You’re not the one who fell in love with his neighbor he used to scream at across his flat.”

               Y/N looks down at her shoes, “Okay…I’m sorry. I know, I know, I’m being a bitch again.”

               Yoongi gapes at her, “W-wait, are you apologizing? You? The great Y/N L/N?”

               Y/N whips her head to him, pinning him with a glare, “Why? You think I’m incapable of apologizing?”

               “Nope,” Yoongi quips, smiling, “I’m just thinking how fast you grew. It was just two days ago you’re struggling so hard to apologize. Now, you just easily admitted to your mistake. I’m proud of you.”

               Y/N’s jaw goes slack. “Are you saying I’m an unapologetic bastard to everyone before?”

               “To me actually,” Yoongi corrects. “But that was back then. You’re quite…more okay now.”

               Y/N gawks at him in disbelief. But before she could utter another counter-statement, Yoongi’s already in front of the cashier, ordering for another platter of tacos. When they got back to their seats, the past conversation seems to have already dissipated. Yoongi starts the conversation this time about what they used to do in high school and college and soon enough, their table is erupting with giggles and high-pitched ‘Oh no you didn’t!” Y/N learned Jeff used to study in an art school. Seojoon used to join competitive pep squad rallies in college. And, Dana chose Travel Loca from a lot of tempting job offers because like Y/N, Dana likes Nancy’s vision for travel journalism as a travel-enthusiast like herself. Likewise, the three were enthusiastic in knowing Y/N—how she managed to skip two years of high school, her one-sided love for music because she cannot, for the life of her, play even a single instrument, and how she has so many random facts about the flower language, color theories, cooking techniques—hell even some trivia about the praying mantis—all because of reading a lot of books. Yoongi even chipped in of how great she can turn scenarios in a completely different one just because of her creative way of seeing things, to which Y/N blushes. The memory of their fast food drive-in date oddly makes her insides queasy.

              It’s been a while since Y/N felt she belonged to a group that values her skills and preferences. Moreover, to have Yoongi be so generous in hyping her up whenever it’s her turn to speak makes her feel a blanket of warmth is surrounding her. A warmth much heart-fluttering than the one provided by his arm embracing her shoulder and his occasional hand-holding. When she first felt his pinky reaching for hers, Y/N’s first instinct was to move away. But the tingling heat creeping onto her cheeks oddly makes her not want to let go. Moreso when Yoongi finally envelops her whole hand with his larger one.

               Y/N doesn’t know how long they last like that but when Yoongi moves to disentangle himself from her, Y/N feels the warmth in her chest fade too fast than she liked. She turns to him curious, before her eyes glance at the wall clock of the restaurant in the corner. It’s already one forty-five. She didn’t know the time has passed so fast. Yoongi gets up from his seat, “You can go ahead outside. I’ll just get something from the cashier.”

               Y/N looks at him with a questioning gaze. Nevertheless, she turns back to her seat and wordlessly follows Dana, Jeff, and Seojoon as they exit the restaurant. Once outside, Dana suddenly turns toward her.

               “You and Mr. Min look like you’re still newbies in dating.”

               Y/N’s eyes widen, “U-uh, how did you say so?”

               “Because you two look like you’re still tiptoeing around each other whenever one initiates some skinship,” Dana shrugs. “Don’t worry. It’s always like that at the start of a relationship.”

               “Yeah. You two might want to start transferring the intensity in your eyes to some physical touchy-touching,” Seojoon suggests, only to get playfully hit on the head by Jeff. Seojoon rubs the sore spot, “What? I’m just saying the truth! It’s normal to crave physical intimacy. Touching and being near someone you love is an inherent need!”

               “Yeah, but they’re just starting, Seojoon,” Jeff reiterates. He turns to Y/N, “Why don’t you try going to a bar?”

               “A bar?” Y/N asks, eyes wide.

               “Yeah, a bar. There’s a nice one along 11th Avenue. Neo-Cloud 9. Great place and drinks, cheap price. Oh, and amazing music. Their DJs don’t play the typical LSD-inducing club music. You two need to loosen up, you know? It’s not good to always hole yourselves at work. And also,” a Cheshire smile grows on Jeff’s lips, “Yoongi loves to drink alcohol after a long day. He just seems like the bar-type of a guy.”

               Before Y/N can ask what he means, the door of the restaurant swings open. Yoongi grins at them, “Let’s get going now.” The three nod and walk ahead, Jeff and Seojoon laughing about something again with Dana playfully hitting them to tell them to shut up. 

              Yoongi walks ahead of Y/N to turn around and walk backward on the pavement, facing the girl. Y/N raises a brow at him. 

              Yoongi grins and pulls out a pale pink envelope before falling back into step with her. “I thought of asking for a date document since we’re quite being handsy in there. Good thing the cashier saw it, too. Even said we’re cute for being shy in holding each other’s hands.” Yoongi wiggles his brows, smirking. “Didn’t know we’re being cute, sweetheart.”  

              “…Yeah,” Y/N looks away, lips pursed.

               “Are you sure you want to date here?”

               The street is bustling alive. Neon signs hang from all walls and awnings. Street arts bask in matte or glow-in-the-dark spray paint. The smell of alcohol, cigarette stench, and the delicious smell of sizzling plates compound together and yet it isn’t acrid to the nose; it’s oddly alluring. All the stars in the sky seem to have fallen down on the streets because all sorts of lights try to illuminate every inch of the pavement. It’s 11th Avenue. The place with different people from all sorts of places. Foreigners and locals piling in different corners. There are people who look newly-legal, celebrating their privilege in reaching 21. And there are some dressed over-the-top, ready to spend the whole night getting wasted. Bands of friends also jump into the mix, hoping to have fun clubbing and drinking and maybe meeting someone new. And there are also people who look like they’ve just gotten off from work. Like them.

               Y/N turns to Yoongi, unbuckling her seat belt. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

               The interior of Neo-Cloud 9 is far from its name. Y/N expected to have all sorts of pleasure-in-bottles lined up like the perfect temptation, a pit filled with heavenly decors and people, a place you wouldn’t want to get out of. But what she only gets is a classic bar and club, walls painted in grey softened by the bright moving lights. A marble-black bar stands in the right corner containing all sorts of imaginable liquor. The floor is carpeted in starry black, and the seats and booths are covered in lush-looking leather. There are people in dressy suits seated comfy in their faux silver tables in one corner, and there are some moving to the beat on the dance floor. But the bar doesn’t look wild or something that could scream fantastical luxury, much less ‘Cloud 9.’ Jeff must be right. This looks like a good place with good drinks, all for a cheap price. 

               It doesn’t take long for Y/N to find themselves seated in a booth, a footed pilsner of mojito in front of her a shot glass and a bottle of tequila in front of Yoongi. 

               Y/N takes small sips of her drink. Yoongi downs a shot. He picks up the lime on the plate and chews on it. When he’s finished a piece of his chaser, he looks at Y/N. “Why did you want to go here?”

               “Well…I’ve never been to a bar before.”

               “You’ve never been to a bar?” Yoongi gawks, placing his glass down on the table. “Like, ever?”

               “Nope.” Y/N places her glass on the table and looks at Yoongi, “And I’ve never drunk any alcohol before.”

               “This is your first time?”

               “Yup. My parents told me not to drink while I’m studying. And coincidentally, I’ve never liked the concept of drinking so…good for them. I’ve never liked parties and places like this.”

               “Then why did we go here?”

               “Because Jeff told me you like to drink.”

               “I do like drinking,” Yoongi nods, “but I wouldn’t insist to go here if you never liked places like this.”

               “Yeah, I don’t like places like this. But it doesn’t hurt to get at least experience from it, right?” Y/N raises her brows and sips on her glass.

               Silence fills the space between them. Y/N orders another glass of mojito. And another. Yoongi warns her she might get drunk too fast. /N disagrees and the stable tone in her voice supports her argument. Meanwhile, Yoongi had already tried raising a conversation topic about five times now. “Another person to rant about in high school?” “Any memories of childhood?” “What got you into loving writing?”—hell, he even tried to pick a fight by bringing up Y/N’s predicament under Nancy, but all of them ended in conversational dead-ends. Either Y/N answers in replies designed for the finality of a conversation, or she switches the topic to a trivial one, such as what he thinks of Kylie Jenner’s plastic surgeries. What only seems to pass through were shallow one-worded answer questions.

               “Uno or Monopoly?”

               “Uno.”

               It’s even fortunate if Yoongi could get Y/N to expand her answer.

               “Would you rather be a…book or a car?”

               “What does that even mean?” Y/N cackles.

               “Just answer!”

               “Okay, a book!”

               But it’s fine for him. It’s better than having nothing.

               “Okay, do you dislike…being sweaty?”

               “Nope. You?”

               “Also no,” Yoongi chuckles. He crosses his arms on the table, “Do you like to play crane games in arcades?”

               “Hmm, yes…But only if someone will win it for me. I suck at it. And it’s a waste of money, too,” Y/N bites on a chip. “What about you? Do you like playing it?”

               “Not if I’m alone. If I had somebody with me, I sure like it. I love feeling somebody getting thrilled with me.”

              Y/N looks down at her glass. She traces its rim with a finger, “We’ve already got four date documents.”

               “Yeah,” Yoongi brings up his glass to his mouth. “But why are you suddenly bringing it up?”

              “Just clarifying what we’re here for.”

              Yoongi’s hand stills.

              Y/N sighs, “We have to keep our eyes on the goal, okay? After all, we’re just doing this stuff to get approved for the PRS-change.” Y/N focuses her eyes on her hands, “We’re doing okay with the date documents. But we need to worry about the accounts of our relationship witnesses. I’ve only got Mina and of course, Ms. Teddy. But that’s only two. We need eight more—”

              “We only need five more,” Yoongi places down his glass on the table, “We’ve already got Dana, Jeff, and Seojoon roped in, too. Actually, four more, because Ms. Yoona already believes we’re into each other the day I re-introduced you. We already have six.”

              “How are you sure about that?”

              “Didn’t Ms. Yoona bid you good luck with me?”

              Y/N’s jaw falls slack. “H-how did you know that? I-I thought you only heard Jeff and Seojoon that night?”

              “I was already standing near the door. Of course, I heard everything. That’s why I know you’re denying we’re into each other. Put us up to fail,” Yoongi meets her eyes, “Again.”

              Y/N stares at him.

              “We’ve already got Dana, Seojoon, and Jeff for sure. Dana was asking me earlier about the intimacy in the break room yesterday. Seojoon and Jeff eat up any gossip Dana feeds them. Plus, those three are my friends. So if we’ll need to be desperate, I can put up an act and request them to write for us.”  Yoongi looks away and downs a shot, “But I think what we did in the restaurant was already enough. I don’t know what other act could be more convincing than that.” 

              Y/N hums. After that, silence again. It doesn’t last long though, not until her 5th order of mojito is placed on their table. But instead of uttering a word, Y/N makes a move to snatch the shot glass of tequila in front of Yoongi. 

              “What are you doing?” Yoongi raises a brow, placing his glass farther away from her reach.

              Y/N only continues to make grabby hands at him. “I’ve only been drinking cocktails this whole night. Wanna taste some hard liquor, too, y’know?”

              “Y/N,” Yoongi sighs, “You’re gonna get drunk. Your house is far from here.”

              “So?” Y/N tilts her head. “You borrowed Steven’s car tonight. You’re gonna drive me home anyway. Drunk or not.”

              “Yeah, but you told me earlier Mina is gonna sleep over at Mark’s. And I cannot carry you up to your apartment—should you get drunk— because if you’re wasted, you cannot confirm to your security you actually know me if I were to help you get in your flat. And that  won’t ever happen because not in a million years will I carry your fat ass in any possible chance—” 

              “Yaddah, yaddah, blah, blah, blah,” Y/N leans forward on the table. “You always have something to say, no, Yoongi?”

              Yoongi clicks his tongue. “As if you’re not also like that.”

              “You don’t need to worry,” Y/N waves off. “Surprisingly, I’m not yet drunk. See?”

              Yoongi gulps. It’s hard to argue otherwise if Y/N knows she indeed looks and sounds very sober.

              “So,” Y/N reaches for his shot glass again, “why can’t you just let me have a taste of tequila? It’s my first time after all. I just wanna experience what I’ve missed on during high school and college.”

              That’s all it takes for Yoongi to sigh and finally relent. Soon enough, Y/N is almost bouncing on her seat as she triumphantly places the tequila-filled shot glass in front of her. With a grin, Y/N picks a lime on the saucer and hovers it above her drink and—

               Yoongi catches her elbow. “That’s not how you do it.” He scoots across the booth to sit next to her. He gets the lime from her hands, “You don’t drop the lime in your drink like you’re trying to make lime water. You dip your hand in salt first and suck it.” He pushes the plate of salt towards her. 

              Y/N looks at him funny. Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You said this is your first time drinking. I’m just trying to teach you how it’s supposed to go so it would taste better. Look,” Yoongi points to her shot glass, “the tequila is distilled so it has a high percentage of alcohol. It’s a hard liquor and will definitely make a different burn in your throat than your mojitos. The salt is gonna lessen that burn. Now, just dip a finger in the salt and suck it.”

              Y/N gives him one more suspicious look but follows nevertheless. 

              “Now, take a shot of your tequila.”

              Y/N smiles, placing the rim of the glass on her lips. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, downing the drink in one go. When she looks back at Yoongi, indeed, a different burn is lining down her throat. It felt like someone lit a match inside her esophagus and let the flame lick the muscles and nerves of her neck. 

              Before Y/N could let her jaw drop and ask Yoongi what the fuck did she just take in, Yoongi places the slice of lime next to her lips. “Bite on the lime.” She looks at him. Yoongi’s shoulder is brushing next to hers. He’s leaning close to her, face hovering hers. Just an inch more and her nose will graze the tip of his nose. He’s also got his hand close on her face. She could feel his thumb almost brush her lips as he holds the lime in front of her. And his eyes—Y/N tears her gaze from him. She snatches the lime from his hand and bites on it.

               Yoongi pulls away, chuckling, “See? It tasted much better now. The sourness of lime balances and enhances the flavor of tequila.”

               Y/N only nods.

               They spend the rest of the night with Yoongi teaching her different terms in drinking, and her trying out sips of the drinks Yoongi orders for himself. It was all okay. Y/N’s having fun, learning and enjoying the drinks. It’s a wonder she’s still sober considering it’s her first time drinking and she’s already got a couple of drinks down her system. Her eyes are still steady, her posture stable. Heck, her voice even sounds as if it a minute has only passed since they entered Neo-Cloud 9. 

               “C’mon, Yoongi, let’s dance.”

               Yoongi should have not been over-confident in his perceptions. The moment Y/N steps out from her side, she stumbles toward him, almost completely faceplanting on his chest.

               “Y/N,” Yoongi pushes her up, “You’re drunk. Fuck, I told you you’re gonna get drunk. I think we should head home now—” 

               “No! Wanna dance, Min Yoongi!” Y/N suddenly stands upright, almost tripping on her shoes. She grins, “Let’s just do one song and after that Imma go home. Please, Yoongi?”

               “Y/N—”

               “Please, Yoongiiiii?” Y/N clasps her hands together, “Pleassseee?” 

               “Y/N—”

               “Just one song! Or else I would call you mean Yoongi from now on,” she crosses her arms, “Just one is all I’m asking. Wanna experience that party feel for the very first time. We don’t even have to do a rave dance. We can just slow dance if you like!”

               This is the reason why Yoongi finds himself dancing something akin to waltz to a song about partying as if it’s 2012. It’s not that bad, though. Not when he’s not alone dancing un-synced to the song with Y/N almost completely hanging on his limbs like a sloth. Some occasional seconds, she even gets the audacity to place her head on his chest. Yoongi cannot help but pull a small smile on his lips.

               The lights above the dance floor are in the colors of sunset and dawn and they move and merge like cells undergoing mitosis. It feels simultaneously alienating and comforting and Y/N isn’t really sure if she likes it or not. She just feels warm all over. Warm in her toes. Warm in her belly. Warm in her throat. Warm in her hands. Warm in her chest. Just…warm. Too comfortingly warm and she doesn’t know if it’s all just thanks to the alcohol. 

               “Hey, Y/N, the song is about to end now.”

               “Just one more,” Y/N mutters. She places her head against his shoulder.

               Yoongi hums. The song finally changes. A few beats in and Y/N stops in her tracks.  It’s The Louvre by Lorde.

              But lover, you’re the one to blame, all that you’re doing

              Can you hear the violence?

              Megaphone to my chest.

               Y/N looks up. Yoongi’s face is above her, almost hovering hers. The warm sunset-colored lights pass over his features, highlighting the seeming stylishness of his unkempt hair, the small existent ridges on his plump cheeks, and the soft-looking curve of his lips that’s more often than not pulled to the side to tease her. But tonight, he’s just smiling, and his lips look so soft under the pink light. His hand covering hers felt so big and yet unnervingly un-foreign. It’s only calming. His eyes are soft, gentle, dare she say warm even. 

              And for one second, it didn’t seem the calming warmth she was feeling was because of the alcohol. Because the warmth she feels is akin to the soothing radiance of early mornings. Warm like the heat between hand-held mugs shared over a small table with knees bumping next to each other. Warm like the tepid comfort a thick blanket provides to counter the thunderstorm incessantly knocking on the window panes. Warm like the lukewarm water of a hot tub one prepares after coming home from a long day at work. It’s hot, but not too hot to immediately withdraw a finger from.

              It wasn’t the alcohol anymore because the warmth she feels comes from Yoongi. She knows for sure because when her hand withdraws from his skin, the calming warmth that has surrounded her immediately dissipates. 

              The realization dawns on her and suddenly, Y/N feels her throat is being laced up close. A choked out sob, and Y/N is hunching over, form minimizing on the floor as she tries to wheeze out a sharp breath.

              “Y/N! What’s wrong? Are you okay?!” Yoongi panics. He holds her close to him, arms looping around her figure to keep her upright next to him. But Y/N shakily pushes him away.

              Arms-width away from him, hands clutching tightly on his shoulders, Y/N looks up at him. “Yoongi, you have to stop being like this.”

              “L-like what? Holding you to not let you fall over?”

              “No,” Y/N shakes her head. “You have to stop trying to get so close to me.”

              Yoongi stops. 

              Y/N lets out a staggered breath. “Just, please don’t, Yoongi.”

              “Y/N—”

              A tear slips from her eyes. “I can’t fall one more time, Yoongi. I’ve had enough already. I can’t…I can’t take another one. So please…don’t cross anymore of the space I put between us. Or even let me do the same. You can insult me whatever you want, just,” Y/N lets out a broken sigh, “don’t do this to me. Please.”

              No words are exchanged after that. Y/N lets herself in the car. Yoongi follows suit. The night goes on devoid of any sound save for the revving of the engine. When they pull out from the colorful streets of 11th Avenue, the distant pink lights of Neo-Cloud 9 become Y/N’s last memory as she slumps her head against the car window. Soon enough, the world goes black. Her breaths finally even out.

DAY 6 – January 31; Friday

               When Y/N peels her eyes open, a rounded moon-looking light fixture set on a powder blue ceiling is the first thing she sees. The second thing that enters her vision is the white bedside table on her left. She’s never seen these things before. Y/N sits up in a jolt. White wooden cabinets, a metal gray desk, black office swivel chair, light grey faux wooden tiles—these are definitely not in her room. She instantly looks down on her body. A white and blue striped pajama. Panic starts to rise in her stomach.  Where the fuck am I—

               The door bursts open and a head of a male she’s never seen before pops up. He smiles at her. “Oh, you’re finally awake. You can take a shower now. Yoongi’s just finished showering. Your clothes are already on the hangers in the bathroom. Mom’s got them washed and pressed already.” The man walks away only to come back as if he’s forgotten something. “Oh yeah, we’re also having breakfast so…come join us when you’re done?” The furrows on Y/N’s forehead deepen. The man beams, “O-oh, and I’m Yoongi’s brother, Jeongguk.”

               Yoongi? Jeongguk? Why is Yoongi’s brother inviting her for breakfast when she hasn’t even heard of him before—Y/N freezes. The answer finally dawns upon her and Y/N could only internally pull all the hair off her head. Oh my god, what the hell am I doing in Yoongi’s home?!

               Twenty minutes later and Y/N finds herself in a circular table with the very question in her head the first thing uttered out when she sits on her chair.

              “So Y/N,” Yoongi’s father smiles at her, “How did you end up here?”

               “Um—”

               “Dad, I thought already told you yesterday?” Yoongi interrupts. Y/N looks at the man across her. He looks like he didn’t dry himself well. The ends of his hair are still wet. There’s also a damp spot on the chest area of the white crew-neck shirt he’s wearing under his navy blazer. Y/N gulps. She should not let her eyes linger on that damp spot for too long.

               “Yeah, son, I know,” Yoongi’s father chuckles as he slices into his scrambled eggs. He turns to Y/N. “I’m just messing with you, dear.”

               “Y-yeah. I totally understand, Mr. Min,” Y/N tries to chuckle.

               “Oh, don’t call me that. Just call me ‘dad.’ We’re gonna get close anyway.”

               Yoongi’s eyes bulge out. “What the hell—Dad!”

               Mr. Min laughs. “I’m just joking! Call me Yoonhyuk.”

               Y/N smiles politely, “Okay…Yoonhyuk.”

               “My, Yoongi,” Yoongi’s mother claps a hand on her son’s shoulder, “You seem really tense. You’re reverting back into your old high school self.”

               “Mom!”

               “Excuse my son,” Yoongi’s mother smiles at Y/N. “He used to be really tense and timid all over. Habits do really die hard. Anyway, just call me Ji-an, too. Oh, and I’m the one who changed your clothes last night so no need to worry. I just thought letting you sleep in your work clothes may be too uncomfortable. You looked like you really needed a good rest last night.”

               “It’s alright. Thank you so much, Ms. Mi—Ji-an,” Y/N smiles. Ms. Min returns a bigger charming smile. Y/N figures Yoongi’s smile must have taken after his mother’s.

               Breakfast continues on as if it was just another breakfast in the Min family. Having Yoongi’s past already brought up, Mr. Min continues on with a story of an awkward fourteen-year-old Yoongi sweating over just practicing how to give their plate of chow mien to their neighbor. Jeongguk even pitched in of how his older brother was such a wimp way back when they were kids. He said it was a wonder how Yoongi always manages to win every game when he’s always the one running like a ‘waddling duck.’ Until a year later they found out it was all thanks to the cheats Yoongi has collected. Everyone erupts into laughter. Even Yoongi who’s sulking the whole time finally breaks into cackles. 

              Y/N can’t remember the last time she had breakfast this lively. Well, she and Mina do share fun breakfasts too. But with the two of them rarely having enough time to cook meals in the morning, table breakfasts are reserved for special days. Their breakfasts usually come through sandwiches they munch on quickly at a small, cheap café near the office. Now, she’s having breakfast with people she’s never met before, and yet, a comfortable warmth settles over her, making her feel las if she’s meeting people she had long been friends with.  The feeling is strange, but Y/N decides she’s more than welcome to entertain it.

              The breakfast ends sooner than Y/N would like to admit and it isn’t by long she bids her goodbyes to the Min family after she finishes helping Ms. Min clean up. She expresses her gratitude once more to Mr. and Mrs. Min before following Yoongi to the car.

              When they pull away from the driveway, Yoongi finally says his first words of the day to her. “I’m sorry you may have been shocked this morning. I drove you to your apartment but I wasn’t able to get you into your flat because you don’t have your keys. The security stationed doesn’t know alternative access and the admin’s office was long closed. So, I have no other option but to drive you home with me. Well, you were actually the one who insisted to drive you to my home, so yeah, here we are.” 

              “I…insisted to go to your home?”

              Yoongi looks at her, “You don’t remember?”

“Yah, Y/N, stop messing with my hair,” Yoongi huffs as he tries to balance the girl latched onto his back while rummaging through her bag for her keys.

“I’m not messing it up. I’m styling it!” Y/N grabs two handfuls of hair. Yoongi nearly topples onto the floor from the hard tug on his scalp. Y/N only squeals, “See? You look like Garu now! Not Pucca. You only smile when you’re smug!”

“Y/N, stop messing with me,” Yoongi grits, hands frantically turning all the items in the woman’s bag over and over again. “Fuck, there’s no keys. Y/N, where the hell did you put your keys?”

“I don’t knoooow.”

Y/N starts to slip on his back. Before he could hoist her up though, the girl locks her elbows around his neck, knocking the wind out of his windpipe. Yoongi didn’t know what getting strangled really feels like until now. Y/N giggles, “Oh, I know now! I slipped it in in my pouch! The one with my ballpens. I think I must have left it in the office because I’m not yet done with my report when we went off…”

Yoongi drags a hand over his face, “Fuck. What the hell will I do with you now?”

Y/N props her head on his shoulder and grins, “Take me home to your home?”

               Yoongi gapes at Y/N. “You seriously don’t remember?”

               Y/N slowly shakes her head, “I don’t.”

Yoongi plops Y/N back onto the passenger’s seat before he sits himself back into the driver’s seat. The moment Yoongi drives away from the 27th street, Y/N decides it’s a brilliant idea to latch herself onto the man’s arm.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Yoongi tries to gently pull his arm away from her. Y/N only keeps her grip on him and decides to put her head on his shoulder. Yoongi sighs in defeat.

“I’m being happy!” Y/N grins, “You and I are gonna have a sleepover!”

“This is not a sleepover,” Yoongi gives her a pointed look, “You’re drunk and I’m just being a Good Samaritan letting you stay over in my house because your poor ass got nowhere to go.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still a sleepover because we’ll sleep in your room.”

“I am NOT letting you sleep in my room. You’re gonna sleep on the couch.”

Y/N’s eyes grow wide, “No! We’re gonna sleep in your room! Friends sleep in one room during sleepovers.”

“So now, you’re finally admitting we’re friends?” Yoongi smirks. He doesn’t know why he’s letting this pointless conversation go on when the person he’s speaking to is just running on autopilot. But when Y/N looks at him in complete focus and opens her mouth, Yoongi can’t help but anticipate for what she has to say.

“Why?” Y/N tilts her head, “Aren’t we already friends? Weren’t you the one who kept bugging me about it?”

Yoongi looks away and keeps his eyes ahead, “Well…yeah.”

“Then why won’t you let me sleep in your room?”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, “Just because.”

“Is it because you hate me?”

“No, it’s not because of that.”

“Then, is it because I annoyed you today?”

“Well, you did annoy me. A lot.” Yoongi sighs, “Okay, a bit. A teeny, tiny bit. But, it’s also not because of that.”

“Then what is it?” Y/N whines.

Yoongi doesn’t answer.

“Is it because I’m supposed to actually rat on any mistake of your team to Nancy?”

Still silence.

“Then…is it because I’m ugly?”

Yoongi whips his head toward her, “What?”

Y/N looks down at her lap, “People say no one wants to be with me because no one likes my face. They say it’s too intimidating. That I’m too intimidating and no one wants to be with someone like that.” Y/N glances at the side mirror, “Didn’t help that everyone practically hates me because of how firm I stand with my values. High school was enough proof of that.”

“Well, it’s not everyone. You got Mina—”

“Of course, I got Mina. She’s always by my side. So, she’s out of the question.”

“I’m not yet done,” Yoongi chuckles, “You do love getting ahead of everybody, no?”

Y/N pouts and faces straight ahead, crossing her arms.

“As I was saying, you got Mina and me.”

It’s Y/N’s turn to snap back towards him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

“You said before I’m not just anybody,” Yoongi shrugs. “Might as well live up to that.”

The quiet air settles over again. Only the sounds of the city zooming past them and Y/N’s occasional snores fill the gaps of silence. But it doesn’t last long as they finally reached 12th street, West Drive—Yoongi’s home—because Y/N wakes up again and starts blabbering if she could tie up his hair Garu-style. Yoongi thinks the utter shock in his mother’s face when she opened the door for him and the utterly inebriated girl on his back is something he will never forget. And probably Y/N’s face, too, which brightened up when Yoongi told her she can have his room.

“Are you serious?” Y/N squeals, already on her knees on his mattress, ready to jump around. She looks like a five-year-old and it doesn’t help that his striped blue and white pajamas make her look, dare he say, cute.

“Yes, I am,” Yoongi replies. He closes the door for a second to see his mother in the hallway.

Ji-an places Y/N’s clothes on their hamper before addressing him. “Been a while since you brought a friend over.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nervously smiles as he rubs his nape. “Sorry this was unannounced, mom. I drove her to her place but she forgot her keys at work and her flatmate’s also gone for the night. I don’t know what to do so I just brought her here.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” Ji-an smiles. “I was just surprised. I didn’t know Thursday nights are now a drinking night.”

“Mom!” Yoongi playfully claps his mother’s shoulder. Ji-an only laughs. When her chuckles die down, she fondly looks at her son, “I was just curious what made you drink out on a Thursday night. I thought friend’s night-outs are for Fridays.”

“Today was just a special case. Y/N wanted to try drinking for the first time. She dragged me to teach her what she’s missed out on college and high school.” Yoongi looks at his closed door, a warm smile forming on his face. “I didn’t know someone at 25 has not yet been to a bar before.” 

“Then, I’m glad you’ve accompanied her.”

Yoongi looks at his mother, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“It’s also been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that,” Ji-an pulls her lips into a knowing smile. “You smile a lot with us. But it’s been ages since I saw that smile again. It makes me happy it’s back.”

“What…smile, mom?”

“Oh, you know it already,” Ji-an pats his shoulder. “By the way, where are you gonna sleep?”

“I’ll make camp in the living room. I have your fluffy pillows and blanket with me…Thanks, mom.” Yoongi gives her an appreciative smile. 

“Okay then,” Ji-an returns his smile, “Goodnight, son.” Yoongi kisses her cheek goodnight and then she resigns back into their room. 

Yoongi plops himself on the floor beside his bed. Y/N rolls over to poke at his shoulder, “What took you so long outside? I thought this is a sleepover. Also, what are you doing with that?” she points to the binder the man is holding.

Yoongi continues flipping through the pages. It’s an album of his days back in high school. He always pulls it out whenever he gets the sudden urge to feel nostalgic. Most often than not, the fuzzy feeling after drinking gives that urge. Yoongi mutters, “I’m looking through it so you’ll get bored of messing with me and finally sleep.”

“You know, Yoongi…if I didn’t hate you, I would love to kiss you.”

Yoongi freezes in his position, “W-what?”

But it seems the alcohol took its final toll on Y/N when she rolls over to her side and bids him with a yawn, “Goodnight, Yoongi.”

Yoongi makes sure he hears her snore before he returns, “…Goodnight, too, sweetheart.”

               “You really don’t remember anything?”

               “No…?”

               Yoongi focuses back on the road. “What’s your last memory yesterday?”

               “Well, we took shots. Then after that, we danced, and—nothing. Well, you drove me here and let me sleepover so yeah,” Y/N looks down on her interlocked hands. “Thank you for that, Yoongi.”

               “You’re welcome. But do you really not remember anything? As in, anything at all?”

               “I told you I do not, okay?” Y/N throws up her hands, “How many times do I have to tell you that?!”

               Yoongi glances at her, “Not even what you said while we’re dancing at the bar?”

               “No,” Y/N sighs. “Look, I don’t remember anything from the night before, save for what I already told you. What did I even say while we’re dancing at the bar?”

               “Nothing,” Yoongi looks back at the road. “You just said you wanna stuff your nose full with mojito because you love it so much.”

               Y/N massages her temple, “Okay, that’s embarrassing. But dismissible. It’s just a stupid statement. Did something else happen?”

               “Something,” Yoongi scoffs, “Oh hell yeah, something definitely happened.”

               Y/N’s brows shot up and she screeches, “Did something happen between us?!” Yoongi almost drives the car out of their lane.

               “Jesus Christ, Y/N, do you plan on busting my ears off?” Yoongi holds a hand over his ears. “And for God’s sake, how did you even come up to that? What do you think of me? Someone who takes advantage of a drunk woman?!”

              “I didn’t say that! Okay,” Y/N reels back and sighs, “I’m sorry I implied it and for possibly offending you. I just thought maybe you got drunk, too, yesterday and we got handsy-handsy on each other. Maybe. The movies show it’s possible. And they already run a good enough forecast system for drunken mistakes.”

              “Are you seriously using movies now as a reliable reference?”

              Y/N looks away. “It wouldn’t hurt, okay. Movies reflect real life.”

              “Look, Y/N,” Yoongi looks at her with a serious face, “nothing sexual happened between us. If something actually happened between us, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. I’d probably be at a church tryna convince the priest if I could take a bath using their holy water.” 

               Y/N scowls at him, “You say that as if I’m the most horrible person in the world. Well, if you’d been a different person, you’d know I’m not so bad.”

               “Are you implying you want to have sex with me?”

               “Oh my god—NO! How the fuck did you even think about such abomination?!” 

              Yoongi wiggles his brows at her. Y/N resists the urge to slap his face. They’re currently driving. She cannot risk her life no matter how much she wants to end the man beside her.

              “But seriously speaking,” Yoongi rounds a street, “something else did happen.”

              “What is it?”

              “You actually insisted to go to my house because you wanna have a sleepover. You reasoned it’s because we’re friends.” Yoongi glances at her, “And you told me you wanted to kiss me.”

              Y/N’s jaw falls wide open, “Oh my god, your imagination cannot be any weirder than it already is, huh? ‘Friends’? ‘Kiss you’? Never in a million years would I want that!” Y/N scoffs, “Even if I’m drunk, I know I wouldn’t say that! Your delusions are getting worse, Yoongi.”

              “Say all that you want. Still doesn’t negate what transpired yesterday,” Yoongi sing-songs.

              “Look,” Y/N shifts in her seat to turn to Yoongi, “I’m grateful you had me in your home and welcomed me so warmly. And I know I’m enjoying a lot of favors right now. But one more wouldn’t hurt, okay?” Y/N sighs and closes her eyes, “Can we just forget whatever happened yesterday?”

              “Nope.”

              “What do you mean ‘nope’?!”

              “Nope, as in, we cannot forget what we know happened. It’s impossible, biologically and realistically speaking. Our brains are not designed with an undo button. Unless we already have early onset of Alzheimer’s. Though I think I wouldn’t worry about that because I’m young and happy. You’re the one who should actually worry because you look old and that’s because you didn’t enjoy life—”

              “Okay, I get you! It’s impossible to forget! But can we just never speak about what happened yesterday?!” 

              Yoongi shrugs, “Depends.”

              Y/N’s brows scrunch together, “What do you mean ‘depends’?”

              “If it would be non-advantageous for me, sure, I won’t speak about it. But right now, it’s definitely advantageous for me because I can use it as blackmail material to finally convince you you wanted to be friends, and that in fact, we are indeed already friends.”

              “Min Yoongi—!”

              A ringtone bursts loud in the car. It’s a Japanese song. And it sounds very much like an opening OST for a shounen action anime.

              “Are you fricking serious—”

              “Ssh!”  Y/N holds up an index to Yoongi’s lips. She breaks into a smile, “Oh hello, Ms. Nancy. I-I mean,” Y/N glances at her watch and does quick math, “good afternoon!” Fuck time differences.

               The person on the other end of the line doesn’t sound too pleased with the greeting though. “Where the hell are you now, Y/N?”

               “Oh, I’m at,” Y/N looks outside of the window in search of the nearest post with a street name, “uh, 1st Avenue. We’re just a couple of blocks from Rockfort now.”

               “Don’t come into the office today. I have a list of errands for you to do instead.”

               “O-okay—”

               “They’re a lot so I’m gonna e-mail them to you now. When you receive it, I hope you start on it ASAP.”

               “Of course, ma’am,” Y/N smiles. A beep at the other end serves as her reply. A ‘ding’ soon sounds in her phone and Y/N immediately checks on her notifications.

               Ms. Nancy Kim (7:45 A.M.)

Go to my house on 27th Avenue. I left some legal papers I need by 8:20 and I want you to scan them and email them to me. Use my personal computer. 

Head to the VanTae Main Office by 8:45 A.M. They’re hosting a meeting with the businesses they’ve partnered with for an interactive fashion event they’re hosting. I forgot to inform them beforehand that I’ve gone abroad but I’ve already e-mailed the CEO today that our spokesperson, Mr. Junhyung Choi, will stand for me. Help out Mr. Choi with whatever he needs, especially his presentation. 

Go to RTW Advertising’s Headquarters by 11 A.M with Mr. Choi. They need to discuss something about their future project with us. I’m gonna send you the references you’ll need to help Mr. Choi—

               Y/N immediately tucks her phone into her pocket. She’ll just read the rest on the train. She turns to the man beside her, “Yoongi park on the sidewalk.”

                “Why? But we’re going to the office—”

               “Just go to the nearest parking spot and drop me off.” Y/N smiles, “Please?”

               Yoongi sighs but nevertheless, he follows her directions and pulls up the car in front of a bicycle stand.

               Y/N gathers her bag, “Sorry this is a rush. I’m not going to the office. I need to catch the 8 A.M. train.” Y/N turns to her side to tug free her seatbelt but it won’t budge. She hears a sigh and then suddenly, there’s a hand hovering above hers, pulling more of the seatbelt from her shoulder to lessen the tension of the belt on the lock. When Y/N looks up, Yoongi’s face is so near hers that one simple movement could let her nose brush the side of his cheek. She could practically feel Yoongi’s breath sweep over her lips as he releases a sigh.

               Then Yoongi looks straight into her eyes. “Is it Nancy?”

               The lock clicks and it releases the belt. Y/N presses herself still into the corner of the car. She doesn’t know she’s holding her breath as she nods, “Y-yeah.”

               Yoongi leans back in his seat. “You sure you want to take the train? I can drive you to where you need to go. I can just hit up Ms. Yoona and tell her to take my place for the day.”

               “N-no. This is my work. I don’t want to bother you. I’ve got a list of things to do and it will keep you away from what you really needed to do.” Y/N pushes the handle and opens the door to let herself hop out. “Thanks for offering though.”

               Yoongi tilts his head and smiles. “Date you later, then?”

               Y/N’s brows meet together.

               Yoongi shrugs, “Well, we’ll see each other later and hopefully date y’know? We still need a few date documents to get. For the Heart Holiday. So yeah, date you later?”

               “Okay…date you later, too.” Y/N smiles back and then she closes the door. When she turns around, she tries to convince herself the heat on her cheeks was because of the pollution outside. Not because of Yoongi’s warm smile as she sent him off.

               Y/N wishes she’s never said anything too early.

               The future is a concept that can hardly be determined no matter how open and flexible the patterns people have made to make sense of it. Y/N knows this and yet she still chooses to defy it. It‘s human nature anyway to try and figure out life and see how long you could last with a blueprint belief. If it turns out to be wrong, improve the belief or let it go and find a better one. But this is always easier said than done. It’s an inherent quality of dealing with things and concepts no one has complete control over. And Y/N has completely no control even on her unfortunate scenarios she has pre-determined in her head.

              All of her Thursdays have been cursed ever since her first goddamn story proposal was foiled by Min Yoongi one year ago. And suddenly, yesterday was spot-free of any unfortunate events Y/N was sober enough to fully experience. And by some unexpected discrepancy in a long-established, working pattern, everything that has to go wrong in Thursday, happened today—Friday.

               When Y/N entered the train station, a mechanical error occurred on the 8 A.M. train that caused a thirty-minute delay before a working cart could come and accommodate commuters. This fucked up Y/N’s schedule big time because she had to sprint to Nancy’s house and speed-scan the legal documents she needed in just five minutes to reach the 8:20 deadline. Of course, it didn’t work according to her plan because computers do their thing when you needed something to be rushed, they pick that exact time to not cooperate with you. Nevertheless, Y/N manages to finish the task. But all the tinge of achievement written on her face from accomplishing something was immediately slashed off when she realizes she sent the documents five minutes past the deadline. Nancy made sure she knew this when she rings her to berate her of her noncompliance with set deadlines.

               Y/N thought she could make up for her mistake by doing her best in her presentation with Mr. Choi at VanTae. But that, too, proves to be a long shot to make because before she could even try, life shuts her down. Nancy forgot to inform her VanTae was expecting themed cohesive presentations from their partners. It is with great shame she sat behind the podium where Mr. Choi is standing, flipping through each slide that was obviously embarrassingly sub-par to the other business partners in the room. And, Mr. Choi didn’t let go of the opportunity to befall the blame of today’s unimpressive performance completely on Y/N. Who wouldn’t when she’s the one in charge of making the entire presentation?

               But that wasn’t the end of it. At RTW, Mr. Choi just asked for Y/N to bring him and the manager cups of coffee. She doesn’t have to stand by his side anymore. But the heavens seem to hate her because when she enters the conference room and nears the manager, the secretary who’s placing the folders suddenly turned, bumping into Y/N. It would have been okay if the coffee spilled all over on her shirt. But No. Y/N trips on her foot and the hot, newly brewed coffee had to spill on the shirt of RTW’s manager. 

              When Nancy caught wind of what happened through Mr. Choi, she immediately slashed off Y/N’s tasks that actually involved Travel Loca and reduced it to personal, trivial errands. It’s easy and fool-proof. They’re just errands like bring Nancy’s daughter’s hardcopy of her paper to her school and write up an apology for Nancy for the parties and events she got invited to but will be unable to attend. And by some undecipherable stretch of bad luck, doing these tasks, too, has also proven to be hard. Either the transportation system will delay her for half an hour, an electronic gadget will malfunction on her, or a person in the other end of the line will find something offending in her words and turn it all against her. Y/N barely made it on time to submit the hardcopy to the school. She wasn’t able to finish encoding Nancy’s personal expenses in the tax declaration software. And two of Nancy’s friends were not satisfied with her apologies and even insulted her. When Y/N calls for the nth time about finishing a task that ended not-so-well in her favor, she knows Nancy has already busted her patience of the day for her because she just sighs and started to give her cold one-worded replies.

              And before Y/N knew it, it’s already seven. Long past working hours. Y/N’s eyes widen. Yoongi. She pulls up her phone and types a message.

              Y/N : Hey, I think I’m gonna do a raincheck on our uh date. Sorry for the late notice. I just finished my job and I don’t think I have any energy left. (7:05 P.M.)

             Mean Yoongi >:( : Why? What happened? (7:06 P.M.)

             Mean Yoongi >:( : If you don’t mind me asking, I mean? (7:06 P.M.)

             Y/N : Nothing happened. Just tired (7:06 P.M.)

             Mean Yoongi >:( : Okay, that’s fine. Take a rest. Health is always the priority (7:07 P.M.)

             Y/N : Okay. Thank you :) (7:07 P.M.)

             Mean Yoongi >:( : Date you tomorrow then? (7:07 P.M.)

             Y/N purses her lips and shrugs. 

             Y/N : Sure. Date you tomorrow (7:07 P.M.) 

             Mean Yoongi >:( : Sweet. Goodnight, sweetheart  😉 (7:07 P.M.)

             A small smile traces its way on Y/N’s face. 

             Y/N : Goodnight, too, Yoongi (7:07 P.M.)  

             However, Y/N shouldn’t have thought about finally having a good night too early. Because the cherry on top of her day is yet to happen. 

            Y/N heads to Rockfort to retrieve her keys and finally end the day. It’s already nine in the evening and she just wants to go home, plop down on her bed, and maybe cry. Out of shame or anger or both, she isn’t sure. Probably anger to Mr. Choi and a bit to Nancy because they didn’t have to belittle her in front of her face the way they did. And most probably anger to herself because she wouldn’t receive such backlash from her superiors if she didn’t fuck up. The rational part of her believes Mr. Choi and Nancy didn’t have time to consider her feelings because they were doing damage control. But still, Y/N can’t help but feel she’s been ruthlessly disregarded. She tried her best but she knows she can’t force anyone to notice it. No one really cares much about the progress. Outcomes are what only matter. It is always the end that determines whether something is worth all the effort or it was all just for naught. 

              When Y/N starts on the steps on the complex, her phone rings. 

              It’s Nancy. Y/N takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “He-hello?”

              “Y/N, what’s the progress of the Creatives for this week?”

              “O-oh, um—”

              “You forgot to send it to me earlier this day when I clearly told you before I went overseas to make sure you keep me up-to-date by the evening. Does it look like it’s still evening, now? It’s already midnight here.” Nancy sighs, “I’m the boss and yet I have to call my employee to ask her to simply do her job. Do you see how wrong that sounds?”

              “I-I’m sorry, Ms. Nancy—”

              “Stop with the apologies. I’ve had enough of that this day. Just tell me what I’m asking from you.”

              “O-okay,” Y/N rushes to the nearest bench. It’s the one sitting under the central mango tree and Y/N hopes if it could give her at least an ounce of luck just like it always does. With hands trembling, Y/N manages to get all the pages of her report from her bag in one piece.  She flips through the papers, “U-um, well, Steven and Yoongi came up with a unique design for our feature articles. It’s inspired by the DRM’s goals and the Heart Holiday because Valentines’ week is just around the corner. A-and then the concept team is collaborating well with our artists in doing the overall theme of our issue. I could send you an email later of the samples they’ve given me—” 

              “Okay, but do you have any updates on our cover page?”

              “The-the cover page?”

              “Yes, the cover page. Did you not hear what I said?”

              Y/N feels her throat dry up. The cover page. Kim Myungsoo. Y/N has reminded him of it yesterday and he said he’s going to see if he can email it by Friday. It’s already Friday and she still hasn’t received any email. She even texted Yoongi earlier while she’s at RTW’s meeting to personally check on Myungsoo and his team. What she only received is a dejected sigh from Yoongi as he told her the team leader has taken a leave and the team members are unable to give them the proposal she needs. Y/N remembers how flawed the bureaucratic system of Travel Loca is as Yoongi informs her company rules dictate access to the reports and documents are only granted by team leaders to ensure their legibility. And since Nancy didn’t give out a statement to override this rule today, Yoongi, himself, cannot do anything. Y/N now remembers why she actually dreaded this call to come.

              “U-um, yes, Ma’am, I heard what you said. But, the thing is, uh,” Y/N taps her foot, “I wasn’t…able to make a report because Myungsoo has taken a leave and he wasn’t able to send their report of progress to me. I-I’m sorry.”

              Silence greets her. For a second, Y/N thinks the line went dead.  She realizes it was wrong to speak beforehand because, after a beat, she feels her heart drop into her stomach.

              “You never run out of excuses, do you?”

              “W-what?”

              Nancy laughs. “Oh my god, I thought I wouldn’t be any more disappointed in you today. Guess I was wrong because you have a knack for breaking my expectations, Y/N. And right now, I’m not disappointed. I’m upset.”

              “Nancy, I’m sorry—”

              “All I’ve asked from you was to give me updates on the Creatives team. And yeah, you did but you left out the most important element we really need from them—the cover page. Give me a creatives team from a magazine company that doesn’t put the central focus on the fucking cover page? Of course, you’ll get none!”

              Y/N bites her lip.

               “What are you even doing this week in the office, then, Y/N?”

               Silence.

               “Answer me, Y/N.”

               Y/N bites back a sniffle. “I-I check on each team a-and I also helped with choosing the layouts and templates they use and—”

               “Why the hell are you helping them with that? You don’t know their work. What made you think you could actually help?” Nancy scoffs, “So instead of actually doing your job, you’ve been busying yourself with pointless things.”

               Y/N could only look down on her feet.

               “You know what, Y/N. When I hired you, I thought you were different. I thought you’re someone who could shine and finally get promoted to the team you wanted to be in. Because you know I’m picky with my P.A’s. Only those who I think have the potential to deserve a promotion into a nice position in my company, or at least deserve to get my recommendation that could get them access to many reputable magazines or news companies, get hired to be my P.A.’s. And when I met you, I thought you were like that. Strong, determined, intelligent, and hard-working. But now, you’re far from that, Y/N. You’ve become so far from what I’ve known you to be. You’ve become sloppy. You’ve become someone that makes excuses instead of really working. And you didn’t improve, Y/N. Not one bit. Because your work these days is far behind from what I expect from a well-educated person. And now, you’re making me think I made a mistake I even hired you.”

               Y/N presses a hand over her mouth. It’s only then she realizes a tear has already slipped from her eyes.

                Nancy sighs, “Thank you for…whatever you did today. I just hope you’ll make up for your mistakes when I come back. I don’t want to further regret I’ve taken you to my company. Goodbye.”

               The line goes dead. The hand that holds up her phone limply falls by her side. Her legs are shaking and so are her fingers. It’s cold but it doesn’t compare to the block of frigidness that has dropped on her chest when Nancy…said those words to her. Sure, Nancy’s always been a bit harsh and strict. She’s scolded Y/N for all the times she’s failed in her job before but they were all necessary reminders that have molded her to become more professional at work. She even told her once how proud she was of how Y/N grew in her company. But tonight, her words are far from that. Nancy was brutal and Y/N could only blame herself.

              Whenever Y/N makes a mistake, she always tries to look at them objectively and never let them get to her. She’s always been able to do this all throughout high school and until she’s started working. Until tonight, because Nancy’s words are vicious and they’re too heavy to shake off. People say wondering about the ‘what if’s’ is absurd as mulling over what may have happened won’t bring anything to anyone but torment. They are reminders of a now-unattainable future and dwelling on them won’t change anything. But right now, Y/N cannot help but wonder what if she’s sent the legal papers on time? What if she made a noteworthy presentation at the meeting? What if she didn’t spill coffee on the manager? What if she’s been more aggressive in convincing Myungsoo to give her the proposal? Would anything change then?

                Y/N raises a hand to wipe off the wetness that has trailed on her cheek. It immediately turns futile because the moment she presses a hand over her eyes, she lets out a sob and tear after tear slips through her fingers. Her mother has told her she’s always had shallow tears. Y/N has worked so long to prove her wrong. That she’s not weak. That she’s not easy to fall over when someone comes too close to knock her down. That she’s strong, that she could get by on her own and she could be someone no one could even attempt to hurt. But now, she’s reduced to this: a crying mess of a girl sitting on some bench for everyone to see. She doesn’t know what to do anymore and—

               “Hey, what are you still doing here?”

               Y/N looks up. Tears only seem to accumulate more on her eyes when she sees it’s—

               “Wait, why are you crying?”

               “Yoongi.” Y/N breaks into a sob and before another second passes, Yoongi’s already by her side, looping his arms around her shaking frame, her face pressed close to his chest. He cards his fingers through her hair as he coos at her, but that only seems to spur more sobs to fall from her lips.

               “I’m so-sorry I’m crying like this—”

               “Let it out.” Yoongi hugs her closer to him, “Just let it out. It’s okay.”

               That’s all it took for Y/N to let everything out. She cries against Yoongi’s chest, hands clutching tightly on his coat. Sobs rock upon her frame but Yoongi only holds her tight, swaying a bit as if to lull her from the suffocating toll of her cries. He doesn’t ask anything. He just stays by her side, whispering by her ear, “it’s alright,” “I’m here,” and “You’re not alone.” For the first time that day, all thoughts of ‘what ifs’ halt in her head.

               The night outside is getting colder by each second. Y/N could make out fogged up spots on the car window. When her finger meets the glass, she doesn’t jolt from the cold. The heater of the car is on. She draws a star. She thinks she’s lucky. She remembers she is when her eyes glance at the back, upon the paper bag containing empty, reusable take-out containers.

               “So…what happened today?”

               Y/N turns back to the front. Yoongi’s arms are firm on the wheel. He spares her a glance before focusing his eyes back on the road, “Of course, if you feel…more okay now to answer it.”

               Y/N bites her lip. It’s been an hour ago since they silently sat on the bench. And a half-hour after that, she and Yoongi shared dinner over something as trivial as listing the most annoying movies they’ve ever watched. And now, a couple of minutes have already passed in the car with them back in complete silence. Yoongi hasn’t said anything about what happened by the mango tree until now and so did Y/N. But she knows it’s an elephant weighing too big in the car not to address it. 

               Y/N sighs. “W-well, Nancy has given me a lot of errands to do. And…everything just didn’t go according to plan and I guess, it was just…the last straw for me.”

              “I see,” Yoongi hums, glancing at her before directing his eyes back on the road.

              Y/N wrings her hands together. She closes her eyes. “Okay, I got…scolded today by Nancy because I messed up with the things she asked me to do. Of course, she has every right to—”

              “What did she say to you?”

              Y/N looks up at him then she quickly returns her gaze on her hands. “N-nothing. She just…expressed her disappointment about me especially when she learned I cannot give her any updates about the cover page.”

              “So you got lashed out on for Myungsoo’s uncooperating ass?”

              Y/N whips her head to him, “No, I-I didn’t get lashed out—”

              “Y/N, stop lying to me.” Yoongi looks at her. “I know Nancy. I’ve been her P.A., too. And when she’s upset, she lashes out. And when she does, she goes way all over the line.” He looks back onto the street. “Why are you even trying to defend her when she obviously stepped over the line again? This is what I don’t like about—” Yoongi stops and sighs, “What are you going to do about Myungsoo?”

              “I’ll…e-mail him tomorrow and convince him to send the proposal to me.”

              “So you’re not even going to reprimand him for letting you unjustly receive backlash because of him?

              “N-no,” Y/N looks at him, brows scrunched. “I don’t want to make unnecessary enemies here and let my temper get the better of me—”

              “So you just don’t stand up against them? What does that make me, then? I’m your free estate for that pent-up anger?”

              Silence.

              Yoongi sighs, “Fuck, I’m sorry. That’s out of the line.”

              “It’s okay…I’m sorry, too. I’ve also been unfair to you.”

              “I’m just—I’m so frustrated why you can’t stand up for yourself around these people just like you do to me. You can’t always let them have their way, Y/N. Superior or not.”

              Y/N remains unmoving in her seat. Yoongi looks at her slumped figure in the seat and he decides to drop the subject. Silence takes hold of their car again. Yoongi tries to elevate the mood by talking about how he’s already on the 30th episode of Naruto. He said he didn’t expect he’ll find it to be that great “since the popular animes are usually overrated.” He even chipped in how he can’t find Sakura annoying even if a lot of fans hated her. Y/N didn’t say anything but a small smile starts to form on her lips. It’s more than enough for Yoongi to thank the heavens he didn’t totally ruin the night.

              When they round the 20th street, Y/N finally decides to speak.

              “S-sorry I wasn’t able to say thank you for earlier so—thank you, Yoongi. For the dinner and for the…thing you did on the bench.”

              “It’s okay,” Yoongi pulls a small smile. “It’s what friends do.”

               Y/N’s eyes shoot up to him and Yoongi only lets his smile grow. It’s that smile. That same smile he gave her when he’s offering to watch Naruto for her to watch Slam Dunk. That same smile he flashed her when he told her to put her arms around his neck as he let her experience her first dance she never had. That same smile that sent warmth spreading all over her chest and tingles running down to her toes.  Just like right now. Y/N swallows the nervousness building in her throat. 

              She turns around in her seat and takes it everything in herself to make her voice sound as beaming as it can be. “Hey, how about we go to that fast food and get one date document before the night ends? It looks so nice and I-I feel bad we didn’t do anything today and—”

               “No. I’m driving you to your home.”

               Y/N gapes at the man. “B-but you said we’ll date later—”

               “We could always get a date document any other time. You’re tired. You need to rest.”

               “But—”

               “Y/N, you should stop turning your back to things you should actually be facing,” Yoongi looks at her. “Right now, you should let yourself rest.”

               The rest of the ride was silent. As Y/N fiddles with the cuffs of her button-down, she cannot help but mull over what Nancy has said earlier. Should she give up her plan for the Heart Holiday to make up for her mistakes today? Of course, when Nancy hears about her absence at work when she goes back to the office, she’ll definitely be disappointed. She could even fire her. Y/N cannot bear to have that. She’s invested two years of her life in Travel Loca. She knows she’s having a hard time living in her current place—doing something she doesn’t love in the field she’s desired for how many years. But she will rather have it than start all over again, most likely work somewhere more comfortable but far from the thing she loves—writing.  It’s already hard to start on your desired field. Of course, it would be more heart-wrenching if you had to start from scratch again. 

               Y/N knows it’s sensible and rational to drop her plan now. She knows she’s leaning to this answer by the time Yoongi pulls in front of her apartment. But when she looks at him and bids him goodbye, his eyes crinkling as he tells her to “drink something warm” and “sleep well, sweetheart,” Y/N cannot figure out why the thought of giving up their ruse felt so…wrong.

DAY 7 – February 1; Saturday

               Y/N is awakened by the eye-burning late morning light streaming through her curtains. Her sleep never exceeds the eight-hour mark. It’s a wonder that for the first time, today she did. Y/N thinks it’s probably because Mina spoiled her with homemade post-dinner yesterday after flopping next to her on the couch and telling her everything that happened that day. Her bestfriend has lined up all her favorite comfort foods and even stayed up late watching movies with her, successfully distracting her from replaying whatever Nancy has said.  

              However, it could also be probably because she slept with her coat draped over her shoulders. Y/N doesn’t know why but her coat smelled so good last night and she just has to keep it beside her for the whole night. She only learns the answer to this when she wakes up to Yoongi’s scent filling her senses first thing in the morning. But even with this knowledge, Y/N can’t find it in herself to regret she ever did that. She hates to admit there’s something about that man that makes her feel safe even if he also makes her run constantly on her toes.

               Mina’s out to visit her parents and said she will be back for dinner. Y/N’s seated cross-legged on the couch, chomping on the brunch her bestfriend prepared while she watches Slam Dunk. It’s been two hours since she clicked on her USB containing the downloaded episodes of the anime and yet it feels only fifteen minutes have passed. She doesn’t want to say it aloud, but clearly, Yoongi has some good taste. She wouldn’t mind getting more recommendations from him.

               Just right then, her phone rings. Without tearing her eyes from the TV, she wipes on the screen and holds the phone next to her ear. Whoever decided it was a good time to interrupt her just when Sakuragi gets a moment with Haruko is as good as dead meat. She grits over the phone, “What do you want?”

               “What the—So early in the morning and you’re already so grumpy.”

               Y/N stops. She pulls her phone away from her face.

               Mean Yoongi >:( 

               Y/N sighs and rolls her eyes. However, she cannot resist the smile that immediately grows on her face. “It’s not ‘early in the morning’ anymore, mister. It’s already eleven. Now, what do you want?”

               “‘What do I want?’ Do I seriously type the opportunistic guy who only calls just because he wants something?” Yoongi scoffs but the sound of it tells Y/N the man was doing his weird laughing face again. 

               Y/N chuckles. Yoongi immediately follows suit. “But seriously,” Y/N manages in between giggles, “Why did you call?”

               “Just checkin’ up on you. How are you? Do you feel…better, now?”

               Y/N hums. She purses her lips, “A bit better now. So far, this day has been good to me. How ‘bout you?”

               “I’m good,” Yoongi quips, “Better actually. I cooked my family some breakfast and now I’m just chillin’ in my room. What are you doing?”

               “…watching Slam Dunk.”

               “No way!”

               Y/N could hear the clatter of things in the speaker. Yoongi must have sat up and knocked things over. What a clumsy idiot. She chuckles, “Oh yes way, Min. Now, you won’t be able to fight me on this because I’m in the 10th episode now.  How about you? How’s the other end of the deal doing over there?”

               “Just you wait, woman, I’m gonna watch Naruto now.” There’s a faint click in the speaker and then—

               “Please enter your disk.”

               “Oh my god, Yoongi, you bought a fucking CD of Naruto?!”

               “Why? This is me showing my respect for art by not ripping it off—wait, do you not buy CDs?”

               “…No.”

              “Do you not have Netflix?”

               “Do you have Netflix?” Y/N counters, “That’s rich coming from you considering you still buy Blu-ray Discs. We’re just both broke, struggling adults here who can’t afford additional bills to pay. No need to pull up your chair so high, mister.”

               “Answer my question, Y/N. Do you not have Netflix?”

              Y/N sighs, “No.”

              “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m dating a pirate!”

               Y/N could feel her cheeks start to burn, “What the—! I’m not a pirate! I’m just—being practical, yeah! In case you don’t know, things stay free on the Internet for a reason and that is to accommodate broke people like me.”

               “Still doesn’t negate that you, mate, are in fact committing piracy.”

               “Hey, I’m not the one who created the pirated versions of Slam Dunk! I’m just downloading torrents. I’m just utilizing available means practically laid in front of me!”

               Laughter resounds on the other end of the line. It sounds weird—like a grandpa wheezing in front of an electric fan. But it also sounds endearingly cute. It doesn’t make sense why it even sounds cute. It’s not even cute! Y/N unknowingly smiles. One thing’s for sure. She wants to hear more of Yoongi’s laugh.

               “Jesus Christ, woman, I’m just messing with you!” Yoongi cackles. “You think I don’t watch pirated things, too? Most of the movies I claimed I’ve already watched are all thanks to torrent. I’m too broke to go to cinemas!”

               “But if you entertain pirated stuff,” Y/N shifts in her seat, “why did you even buy a CD of Naruto?”

               “I buy CDs only when I think they are worth it.”

               “You…already think Naruto is worth it?”

               “Yeah. You like it. So, it’s worth it. You said it’s great, so I trust you.”

               Y/N gulps. It’s weird. Her chest feels so warm and so do her cheeks. She’s just talking with someone over the phone.

               “You still there?”

               “Y-yeah,” Y/N fixes her clothes. Why the hell is she even fixing herself? It’s not as if Yoongi can see her.

               “Okay. I thought of something.”

               “Yeah?”

               “How ‘bout we watch our respective animes together through Discord Music Party so we can hear each other’s reactions live?”

               Y/N tilts her head, “How will I be able to watch properly then if I’m calling you at the same time?”

               “You can turn down my volume from time to time there, duh. It’s 2020 now, sweetheart.”

               Y/N flushes. “O-okay, we can do that. But I still don’t get why we have to check our reactions live.”

               “Did you ever feel you want so badly to gush out your annoyance or excitement about something you’re watching to someone? Because I do. And I want you to be on the other line to hear me lash and gush on something because you made me enter this battlefield. This is 500+ episodes, woman.”

               “Well, that’s not my fault. Who in the first place proposed this anime-watching exchange? You.”

               “Touche,” Yoongi chuckles. “Yeah, it’s me. I told you I’d watch Naruto just to get you to watch Slam Dunk for my sake. But actually, I’m just curious why you love that anime so much. So here’s me learning the heck out of it.”

               Naruto’s Season 1 opening OST starts to play in the background.

               Y/N clucks her tongue, “I thought we’d go to Discord first before we do our live reactions?”

               “Just give me five more minutes. I don’t want to end our call yet.”

               Five minutes easily turn into twenty and it takes one more of Yoongi’s ‘Just five more minutes’ to annoy Y/N and yell at him he’s wasting his mobile load. It takes Y/N three minutes to download the app, and after ten minutes of fumbling around it, they hear each other’s voices again and continue where they left off. 

               “Oh, you’re here again, captain!”

               “Shut up, Yoongi.”

               “How’s the loot?”

               Y/N sends an angry emoji in the chat. Yoongi’s laughter immediately booms through the speakers.

               The rest of the day just goes like this. Episode upon episode pass. There are occasional quick calls for a bathroom break. Of course, another argument happens, especially when Yoongi suddenly declared at episode 77 he ships Sakura with Naruto which Y/N cannot accept because “canon is canon for a reason.” Meanwhile, Yoongi was initially pleased to learn Y/N ships Haruko with Sakuragi and not with “Awful Kaede.” But that immediately changes when he learns Y/N only ships the two because she ships Kaede with herself.

              “I love me an ambitious, dream-driven man.”

              “You’re the one who’s getting too ambitious, missy.”

                Sometimes, inquiries of “You wanna pause and rant about Kaede?” or “What are you eating?” come across. But most of the time, what transpires in between are laughs, expressions like “that’s so cool,” and “whoa, I didn’t expect that,” and promises to keep watching together whenever they’re free. Y/N never knew watching a show could be this fun. Of course, it’s already fun watching an amazing show with great characters and conflicts. But watching together with another person, even if they’re not necessarily the same show, definitely amps up the experience.  Y/N doesn’t want to admit it but Yoongi’s right. Having someone by your side, even virtually, to gush or lash out with on something definitely feels good.

              Everything just felt so right and enjoyable that Y/N didn’t even notice the whole day passed with just her and Yoongi accompanying each other watching shows. Time has passed too quickly and now it’s five forty-five. Mina has already come home and she definitely sends Y/N a questioning look when she sees her chuckling on her phone. Y/N only flashes her a grin and mouths ‘just a bit more.’ Meanwhile, Yoongi has yet again started his “just five more minutes” hoax. Though that unexpectedly gets ended soon when Y/N hears Jeongguk’s voice pops up and asks Yoongi to come out and start preparing dinner. But just before Y/N could say goodbye and tell him one last time to “go hurry up and cook,” Yoongi interrupts her.

              “You know, this is my kinda type of a date.”

              “Thi-this is a date?”

              “Yeah. You’re spending time with me. I’m spending time with you. And we’re having a good time. So yeah, this is a date.”

              Y/N tries not to focus too much on what he said. “But how is this your type of a date? I thought you like bar dates?”

              Yoongi guffaws. “Where the hell did you get that?”  

              “Jeff. He said you’re a bar-type guy.”

              “Oooohhhh. So that’s why you suddenly wanted to have a date at Neo-Cloud 9 that day.”

              Y/N shyly looks down at her hands.

              “As much as I love alcohol, I don’t actually prefer drinking them in bars. They’re too noisy. Messy. And there’s a lot of people bumping into you.”

              “Then why did you agree to go to Neo-Cloud 9 when you also don’t like bars?”

              “Because you’re with me. You said it was your first time going in one, too, and I figured why not help you enjoy the experience.” Yoongi chuckles, “It’s not like I didn’t have fun with you anyway. In fact, I had so much fun. Especially at the part where you said you wanted to kiss me.”

              “Oh my god, Min.”

              “Don’t deny it anymore, sweetheart, I’ll—”

              Y/N ends the call though. But that seems pointless when her chat pops up with another message from the man.

              Min Yoongi  >;) (5:50 P.M.)

              “—make sure you’d remember it ‘til the die you die. I’ll live for as long as I can just to remind you of that.”

              Y/N (5:51 P.M.)

              “Sure. Whatever, Min.”

              Y/N closes her phone with a chuckle. When she turns around to finally gather her used utensils, she’s greeted by Mina’s curious stare.

              “You seem to be having fun with Yoongi these days.”

              Y/N opens her mouth but Mina immediately interrupts her, “Oh don’t you deny it. I’ve seen you smiling a lot these days. Even when you still rant about him, I could see you’re actually having fun.” 

              Y/N raises her hands, “Okay, I admit, I’m actually having fun. But I think it has to do with us agreeing to compromise for this 14-day deal. Not because of…him.”

              “But isn’t that good, though?” Mina asks, “This deal didn’t turn out as disastrous as I expected it to be. At least you’re trying to make the best out of it instead of busting each other’s heads off. Plus, a week has already passed. You only have seven days more. Everything will soon go back to normal.” Mina smiles, “Just a little more and you’ll soon get that benefit, Y/N.”

              Mina excuses herself and heads to the kitchen to start dinner. As Y/N plops back down on the sofa, she realizes she’s got her answer. It’s just seven more days. Just seven more days to fully enjoy this deal. After that, it will all go back to the way it used to and she’ll have her work all to herself again.  It wouldn’t hurt much if she chooses to turn down work for the first time and indulge in the last days of this ruse, right? The deal is bound to end soon anyway. It’s useless backing out now. She just has to make the best out of it.

              But why can’t Y/N find it in herself to be fully happy about this? 

prev | next | series masterlist

A/N| Hi hons! First of all, happy birthday to @wii-wii! I hope this post is not too late. I hope you had a wonderful day/night and may you always stay well and safe 💕

Thank you, hons, for waiting for the 2nd part of Act 2! Unfortunately, I don’t know when I’ll upload Act 3 as I’ll be prioritizing my fic first for @btswritingcafe​’s Map of The Soul Workshop. And after that, I’m going to write a short story I’ll have to submit for my university’s journal. After then will I be able to go back to my schedule for THH. Don’t worry though, I already prepared a detailed outline for the rest of the Acts of THH so I think I wouldn’t take too long fumbling what scenes to write. Anyway, if you wish to get updated when Act 3 finally drops, just PM me or send me an ask and I’ll add you to the taglist!

Update: Comment down below instead if you want to get added to the taglist! I think it will help me to track all of you hons once I post the update!

All Rights Reserved 2020 © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed.

[lukewhitesuns]

Day 5: Touch-Starved

*shows up to the challenge five days late with a really obscure gen dynamic and a loose reading of the prompt*

@loving-fox-hours

tw: child soldiers, what initially looks like a suicide attempt, self-hatred

(AO3)

There's a youngling perched on the roof of the Galactic Museum, and Fox is exhausted.

No one reported this. Fox happened to be walking back to the barracks after a thirty-six hour shift, glancing up at exactly the right moment to spot a child idly dangling their legs over the side of the building, some ten stories up. Which means this is now his problem.

Lucky him.

What's one more cut away at his sanity? He doesn't need sleep; after what he did to Fives, he doesn't deserve it, either.

Still, he seethes as he stalks toward the building.

People refuse to behave on this kriffing planet. Everyone always has to race illegal circuits, or drunkenly brawl with each other, or cause lasting property damage for no other reason than they were bored. On the more excruciating days, there's even some explosions, attempted assassinations, and bounty hunters wreaking havoc. And who can forget the time a giant beast destroyed half of the upper city? Because that's definitely something Fox could prepare for. That was a fun experience.

Finding people where they're not supposed to be is tame by comparison, but it's still a waste of his already limited time. This kriffing kid, when he drags them out of here—

It's nearly nighttime, so the museum is closed, but there are still a few staff members loitering about. He barges in after the door gives easily.

"The roof," he says to the nearest guard. It's meant as an order, but resembles a sigh more than anything else since he no longer has the energy to slip into a commanding voice.

The man stutters a moment, then gathers himself enough to point. Fox is already moving. Too slow; he saw the lift himself. How did the Republic survive without the clones as long as it did?

He presses the button for the roof, and swipes his pass without even glancing at the access screen that pops up. Fifteen seconds later, he's stalking out onto the roof and directly toward the youngling's back with single-minded determination. It's past both their bedtimes, and Fox still has a mountain of paperwork in his office, and his patience was spent at least six hours ago. He's obviously not going to hurt the kid, but he's not past ordering their ass off the roof as rudely as possible.

As he approaches, the kid whips around, eyes widening. Fox does a split-second survey: male, redhead, approximately the age of a six-year-old brother, weighs almost nothing. Another problem: the robes, the braid in his hair, and the lightsaber clipped to his belt. He's a Jedi youngling, meaning Fox's job is now that much harder.

"Listen, I can explain—" a young, high voice begins nervously, once he's almost reached him.

Fox doesn't slow down until he's nearly level with the kid, centimeters away from the ledge, looming over him, arms across his chest. "Get. Up."

The boy stiffens, but doesn't otherwise move. His eyes are glued to where his legs are still kicking out over the edge.

"I know I'm not supposed to be here, but I couldn't stay there!" He bursts out. His voice wobbles at the end, and dread immediately settles heavy in Fox's chest.

Haar'chak, it's going to be one of those.

Why couldn't the kid just be a truant like the rest of them?

Who is he kidding, he should've realized what he was in for the moment he saw the lightsaber.

Resigned to his fate, Fox knows he has to tread very slowly with this. He loosens the intimidating posture and asks with a small sigh, "Where?"

"Th-the temple," he answers, as expected. "I don't—I can't—"

Please don't cry, please don't cry, he really doesn't know what to do with a crying kid and he's so tired right now.

To his guilty relief, after another moment the boy draws in a deep breath and straightens his posture. He glances up at Fox with embarrassment plain on his face, mouth open as though to say something, but then his expression shifts into one of surprise, then curiosity, then hesitance. His stare seems to pierce directly though his armor and trap him there.

Apart from Tano and Offee, who were both older and under arrest at the time, he has no experience with Jedi children. Are they all this strange?

When he speaks again, his voice is unnaturally even with forced calm. Still holding back tears, most likely. "You're a clone."

Fox doesn't see how this relates to dangling himself off a roof at dusk, but if it keeps him calm, there's no harm in answering. "Yes."

He frowns, digesting this, then tilts his head slightly. "So...did you want to go to war?"

The question is said cautiously, but still hits with the force of a gut punch, and is so random that for a long moment all Fox can do is stare. "What?"

"Did you want to go to the war?" he repeats. "Fight for the Republic on the front lines and everything?"

Is he mocking him for being stationed on Coruscant? His tone implies genuine curiosity, but he could be wrong. Either way, Fox has a job to do, and it gives him a helpful delay on such a loaded question.

"Here's the deal. I'll answer your question if you move away from the edge there." He knows there's no chance he'll be able to wrestle a Jedi child away from somewhere if they don't want to move, so he has to be diplomatic about this. As a peace offering, he degrades himself to sitting down on the rooftop a few meters away, despite the protests of his armor, and watches the kid expectantly.

The boy frowns at him, frowns down at the edge, then frowns at him again. "I can catch myself if I fall, you know," he says slowly.

But if he falls and he dies, that's on Fox. He doesn't say that, though. Instead he asks mildly, "Have you ever done it before?"

"Well, no, but I've practiced catching my friends when they fell off the climbing course. It can't be that much different."

Fox does not have time for this. "Sit here. Now."

Another round of staring, and the boy finally sighs and relents. "Fine." He plops down in front of Fox with none of the Jedi's renowned grace. "I'm Cal, by the way."

"Fox."

"That's a nice name," Cal replies, and despite it being the same rote response Fox receives every time he tells a nat-born his name, he's yet again struck by Cal's sincerity when he says it. "I never saw a fox before. Guess now I have." He grins sheepishly at Fox, as though expecting an eye roll behind his bucket; Fox sits there awkwardly, still at a loss of what to do or say, especially when the kid's gone from nearly crying to smiling in under two minutes. And people rarely ever smile at him, so this is disconcerting.

"So you said you'd answer my question..."

Right. That. He did say that, didn't he.

Is he actually going to confess this to a random child? He supposes he has to, since this is somehow important to why Cal was up here in the first place.

Fox chooses his words carefully. "I did want to go to the war. I'm a commander—commander of the Coruscant Guard, now, but my batchmates and I were all born to serve on the front lines, alongside Jedi Generals. It's in my genes. But someone was needed here, too, protecting the home front. My duty is to the Republic above all else, so I serve where I am needed. Which is here."

That's what he convinces himself to keep going, anyway, although lately Fox wonders if any of it was worth it.

Cal's expression turns melancholy again. While Fox was speaking, he tucked his knees under his chin and wrapped his arms around them. "I don't want to go. I'm twelve, and I'm a commander too." Freeing one arm, he gives an sloppy salute as his lips twist in a bitter smile. "Commander Kestis of the 13th Battalion, at your service. I ship out the day after tomorrow."

Fox stares. And stares. And doesn't say anything.

Then he makes a decision. He takes off his bucket. He never takes off his bucket, and says as much to Cal.

"Then why did you—?"

Because there's something poisoning the Galactic Republic, and I can finally admit it to myself, and suddenly I'm suffocating. Children going to war, brothers killing brothers, nothing ever changing. This is not what I was made for. But who can I even tell? What can I even do?

"Because you need to look at my face when I tell you this."

"Okay..." Cal says, bemused.

Fox takes a deep breath and forces himself to meet Cal's eyes unblinkingly, pushing as much gravitas as he can muster into both his voice and his expression. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

His own words twist his stomach into knots. Because Cal still has time. He still has a modicum of freedom left, and Fox realizes he wants the kid to survive, and not become what he's become. Fox is a brother-killer now. He's less than nothing, and still, he works himself to the bone for the duty he swore himself to as a youngling. He's trapped by the war, and he can't escape. He never had that option.

The exact meaning of his words confuse him, too. What is he saying? Is he offering to help Cal escape, if the reason he's up here is because he ran away? Or is it because he wants to prevent another senseless death, so soon after being the cause of one? Cal may be a Jedi, but he's so young. Even the most skilled Jedi masters have fallen in this war, so sending one with barely any experience seems rather like sending someone to be slaughtered.

This isn't what he expected to happen at all on this roof. He's talking to a kid he just met, trying to offer advice when, as Thorn puts it, he can barely hold himself together.

"No, I..." Cal hesitates. "I'm sure if I begged, they wouldn't make me. But I have to. It's my duty to the Republic. Like you said with your job," he adds, gesturing at him vaguely.

That was not what Fox meant. He opens his mouth to object, but Cal's already barreled ahead, speaking so fast the words almost tumble over each other.

"The youngest person they sent 'til now was fourteen, and they had arguments about her all the time—though Jedi arguments are more like 'who can be more passive-aggressive' competitions. They really don't want to send us, but there are so few of us left...it was just a calculation, I guess. Even though I'm young, I'm really good. That isn't even me trying to be mean to my crèchemates or anything, they're not bad Jedi at all, it's just that I've always had more of a grasp on the Force than some people. And I'm psychometric, which is when I can touch something and see things that have happened with it in the past."

"Like Vos." Fox scowls at the mere thought of him. He and this kid couldn't be any more different.

Cal narrows his eyes for a moment. "Yeah, like him, although he's not my master...anyway, I guess I'm saying...sending me is a better choice to end the war faster. The sooner we end the war, the sooner we can go back to being actual peacekeepers. At least that last part's what Caleb says. He's also going the day after tomorrow." He sighs and stares at his hands. "But I still don't want to go, even if I have to. I freaked out this afternoon and had to go somewhere a lot quieter to think. Which is why you found me here."

"Makes sense," Fox says, processing. That sounds like a reasonable reaction for a scared kid, actually. "You still plan to go, then?"

Cal hesitates, then nods. Fox's heart sinks, but he doesn't know what more to say. His mind's still reeling; he just learned more about the Jedi Order in a quarter hour than he ever learned about the Senate in two and a half years, and he has no idea what to do with the information.

"Well, you'll need to be well-rested then," Fox says after another moment, and giving exaggerated glance to the sky.

Night has fallen, and the sky is completely black with the pollution blanketing the stars. The buildings provide enough light to see, but sometimes Fox does wonder what the center of the galaxy looks like from the surface of a planet with an unencumbered view. If it's any different from the sparse pinpricks he saw from Kamino the few days there wasn't a torrential rainstorm.

He puts his bucket back on, stands, and beckons. "Coruscant's its own war zone sometimes, and trust me, speaking from experience, you'll need every minute you can get. Let's go. I'm legally obligated to return you to the temple."

Cal groans, but thankfully, stands and follows after Fox. “I have been here a long time, I guess. Honestly, I'm surprised Master Tapal hasn't sent after me. Maybe he just thinks I've been meditating in the 'Fountains. That's what we call the Room of a Thousand Fountains."

Since the museum lies just outside the Senate District, the walk is short. If Cal wanted to hide, he didn't do a very good job. Cal chatters away the entire time about everything but the war, clearly trying to keep his mind off it as long as he can. Fox indulges him, although it's not like he can get a word in edgewide regardless.

They're at the steps of the temple when Cal abruptly stops dead in his tracks.

"Cal?"

A questioning look to his side—stars, the kid barely reaches his waist—Cal appears lost in thought.

He's so busy trying to figure out what happened that at first he doesn't even process that the blur that crashes into him with superhuman speed a second later is Cal. When he does, he freezes, glancing down at the boy, who has wrapped both of his arms around his armor and is—inexplicably, given how small he is—squeezing hard enough that Fox can feel the warmth even through the plastoid. Either it's Jedi thing, or else Fox has finally, officially lost his mind.

Gently, he rests one hand on Cal's back to acknowledge the hug. He's too nervous to do anything more, partly because he doesn't want to...break him or anything, and partly because if he's too stunned to move.

When was the last time he was touched in a way that wasn't malicious? Months since he'd had a hug from his closer brothers because their sleep schedules hardly coincided anymore, and never, by a nat-born, because why would anyone ever hug a clone?

He'd almost forgotten what it feels like.

He's doesn't deserve it.

"Thanks," Cal mumbles, face pressed half into his armor.

"What for?" Because he has no idea. "I didn't do anything."

Cal pulls back and beams up at him. "Yes you did. You reminded me I still have a choice."

Even if he picked the choice he doesn't want? Even if he barely said anything to him? Why does he deserve a hug from a kid that just met him, who would probably hate him if he knew what he's done?

"And you were really nice and didn't make me feel dumb or anything," he continues, oblivious to the turmoil in Fox's head.

Children are kind without reason, and to people who don't deserve it, but Fox realizes he's still glad that this strange kid thought he was worth a hug.

Cal starts to move away, waving a little at him. "Bye, Fox. Next time I'm on Coruscant for leave I'll come say hi."

"Bye, Cal."

He turns around again a few steps up. "And don't worry, I didn't get any memories off the armor. Big parts of clothes usually count as a part of the person, for some reason, and people aren't objects."

Fox watches his form disappear into the temple and tries to convince himself he did everything he could. That Cal will actually survive to make it back to Coruscant. He hopes he will, but he knows as well as anyone that there's no guarantees. For all he knows, this is the first and last time he'll ever see him.

The next morning, after a miraculously uninterrupted sleep, Fox wakes with a newfound determination. The guilt remains, but it's muted. No longer consuming his entire existence. Now he has a plan.

He has to take his own advice. He may not have been given a choice to begin with, but now he has one because of Fives. Ignore the warnings, or listen. He's a person, not an object, and he shouldn't have something in his brain tagging him like glorified inventory.

The chip is coming out.

[its-captain-sir]

A Record of Memories

For the 3/27 Writing Wednesday prompt: Long Forgotten Origins.

I procrastinated a ton on writing this, but it’s done now! Enjoy!

*****

Leia is purchasing supplies for the Rebellion when she stumbles upon it. It's an old medpack, from the time of the Republic if she had to guess, probably scavenged from one of the many ships on this junkyard of a planet.

She picks it up. Medical supplies are always good to find, no matter how old they may be.

All the typical things are in there, and then some. Hypos, syringes, a few rolls of bandages, some bacta patches that may or may not still be good, a couple old stims, and even a few pieces of actual flimsy. But what surprises her is the comm resting at the bottom.

She pulls it out, throwing the medpack in with all the other supplies she'll be purchasing today. The comm's clearly been modified. A small holoprojector is attached to its side, as well as a few other things she doesn't know the names of.

It takes a while to find the switch, but she manages to get it turned on. It still works, even after all these years.

A list is the first thing that pops up. Each line of text is a string of numbers, coupled with a date. They're recorded entries, she realizes, though of what she has no idea.

There's no one else around, so she scrolls to the top and clicks on the first one.

The holoprojector flickers, and in place of the list, there is now a person. Human, for sure. Probably a male by the looks of it.

He's got the start of a goatee on his chin and a tattooed 5 at his temple. Maybe a few years older than her if she had to guess.

"Hey there!" he says, speaking directly to the comm. "Just got this back today! Cable's rigged everything up for me, but I figured that before I actually start using it, I should do an introduction."

"The name's Fives," he says, and that tattoo he has suddenly makes a lot more sense now. "I had this comm modified so I can use it to record things." Fives grins. "You wouldn't believe the stuff that happens around here. Echo said-"

"I said absolutely nothing about any of this, Fives, this was all your idea," another voice says. Fives' grin gets wider and the recording shakes as Fives moves to sit by the other person. Fives slings an arm around their shoulders and pulls them in frame. Their faces are identical.

"This is my batchmate, Echo," he says.

Leia nearly drops the comm.

"He's sort of a stick in the mud, but I love him anyways," Fives continues, laughing when Echo tries to elbow him in the ribs.

"Nobody," Echo grumbles "Nobody would know. What's that? Fives is missing? Oh, wow, what a shame, I'll miss him so much."

"Ah, c'mon, Echo, you know the only way the 501st wouldn't assume you killed me is if it was an accident!"

"That's how I'm going to make it look-"

Leia shuts off the comm.

Clones.

They were clones.

Her father would tell her stories about the clones sometimes. How he worked relief efforts with them during the war, how they came to his rescue more than a few times. How they suddenly turned against the Republic they fought for and helped instate the new Empire across the galaxy.

The clones were nothing more than traitors. They blindly followed whatever orders they were given, no better than unthinking droids. She should just throw this comm away.

There's something telling her to hold on to it though. Some little voice inside her head wants her to keep it, despite all the reasons she has to toss it back in with all the junk and let it stay there forgotten.

That little voice has never steered her wrong before.

She pockets the comm and moves on.

~~~~~~~~

Leia is back on her ship, and she realizes she still has the comm.

She pulls it out of her pocket and plays the recording from before. She pays more attention to it this time around, watches it through all the way. And once it's over, she plays the next.

And the next.

And the next.

She doesn't know why she's watching these. She doesn't like the clones, not with everything they've done. There's no reason for her to watch these recordings.

She keeps watching them anyway.

~~~~~~~~~

Leia is on the 5th recording, and suddenly, everything she knows changes.

In these recordings, or at least in all the ones she's seen, there's joking, teasing, lots of laughter involved.

This though. This is different.

Fives is the only person in this recording. The room he's in is completely empty, save him.

He runs his hand through his hair. It seems like a nervous tick almost.

"I know this isn't normally what happens in these vids I've been taking," he says, "but I just-"

He trails off, looking away from the comm for a moment, but Leia could have swore she saw tears shining in his eyes for a second.

He looks back up, and there is definitely unshed tears there. "I just don't know what else to do," he whispers, and Leia jerks back a bit because he sounds broken.

"I- I need to talk about all this, get it all out. But... I can't. I can't just go up to someone and talk about everything, it just- it doesn't work like that. Not in the GAR." He swallows, closes his eyes. "This is the only other thing I can think of to try. To- to cope with everything."

"The Separatists attacked Kamino," he says. "It's the closest thing we clones have to a home. And they attacked it." Leia's heart clenches at his words, visions of Alderaan being destroyed running through her mind.

"There were so many droids," he murmurs. His gaze has that far-away look she's seen become more and more common in the members of the Rebellion. "Everyone fought as hard as they could. Our lives, our future was at stake. We were all willing to lay down our lives for that, and so many of us did."

"The droids made it into the barracks despite all our efforts. We- we did everything we could but-" The tears finally spill over and Fives doesn't bother trying to stop them from falling down his face. "One of the cadets... He didn't make it."

"Gods, they- they're just kids," he says, burying his head in his hands. "They're just little kids, they shouldn't have had to fight for their lives!" He's shouting by the end, but Leia hardly notices it. All she can do is stare in horror at the comm.

"I should have done something more," Fives says. He's quieter again. "I should have pushed myself harder, should have come up with better plans, paid more attention to droid movements-"

Leia shuts off the comm.

How, she wonders. How could no one have known this? How could they not see that these clones were people? These were living, breathing, beings, not heartless droids. They had a home, they were children at one point, they mourned, they grieved, they beat themselves up about things over and over just like everyone else and no one ever saw it.

Or if they had, they've forgotten it now.

She vows right then and there to watch all of the recordings on the comm. The rest of the galaxy has forgotten what the clones were like, but she won't. It isn't much, she knows, she's only one person. But it's still one more person than before who knows the truth.

She turns the comm back on and keeps watching.

~~~~~~~~

Leia is back from a mission, and she goes to seek out Luke.

"What is it?" he asks when she shows him the comm.

"Something I think you'll want to see," she replies, and turns on the comm. It opens up to the recording she found during some downtime on her mission.

It starts in the middle of a conversation.

"-an't believe I've never told it to you before." The speaker is a young man, a Jedi if the lightsaber at his hip is any clue. The man eyes the comm in confusion. "You're recording this, Fives?"

"Well, this is a General Skywalker story," the clone in question says. Luke's eyes widen at the name. "I reckon it's gonna get pretty interesting."

Skywalker laughs. "Would you expect anything less from me at this point?"

Fives grins. "Never, sir."

Skywalker launches into some story about how he destroyed a Trade Federation control ship as a kid, complete with vivid descriptions and sound effects. Leia doesn't pay much attention to it, having already listened to it before. She watches Luke instead as he listens to the story his father tells.

The recording finishes, and she clicks off the comm.

"Thank you for showing me this," Luke says. He wraps his arms around her in a tight hug.

She's surprised at first, but then she squeezes back just as hard.

~~~~~~~~

Leia is watching as the fleet jumps to hyperspace, away from the Empire.

From the viewport in her quarters, she can see what's left of their forces. There's not even half of them left.

She looks away, tries to ignore the prick of tears in her eyes.

Her gaze falls on the comm. She was watching a recording before the Imperials attacked. It was another of the ones with just Fives in it. The ones he made to cope.

She doesn't think he's ever needed it more.

Because Echo, Fives' closest brother and partner in everything, was gone.

Leia's heart breaks as she watches it, and underneath all the pain, she is angry. Angry that Echo was gone, and Fives is left alone. Angry that he died in a meaningless battle that didn't even matter in the end. Angry that war reduces these deaths to nothing.

But that's just how it is. War is long and hard, and it takes and takes and takes.

She wishes it wasn't that way. She knows Fives does too.

~~~~~~~

Leia is in an escape pod and clutching Fives' comm in her hand.

She barely had time to grab it before jumping in the pod and launching away from the crippled ship that the Imperials are now ripping to shreds.

It makes her realize something. There is no place she can leave the comm where it would be safe. Bases could be raided, ships could be destroyed, and unlike this time, she might not be able to go back for it.

She couldn't lose it. Fives didn't deserve to have his memory be lost again.

She gets picked up, heads back to their most recent base. It's easy to find a short leather cord once she's there, and easier still to securely attach it to the comm.

She slides the cord around her neck and tucks the comm beneath her shirt. As long as she lives, Fives' memory will be safe.

~~~~~~~~

Leia is alone in her quarters when she hears about Umbara.

She's grateful for that fact. No one will ever see the way her eyes water with unshed tears in the same way Fives' does as he recounts horror after horror.

The galaxy has no idea what these men went through. She wishes they did.

~~~~~~~~

Leia is sitting in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon when Han asks her about the comm.

"Must be important," he says, "for you to keep it on you at all times."

"It is," she replies. And then she shows him exactly how important it is. She pulls up a recording. It's one of her favorites.

"We've been stuck up in this ship for week," Fives says, holding the comm in front of him. "Can't go planet-side, everyone's restless, and I am bored out of my kriffing mind."

He holds up a ruler, grinning. "So, I'm gonna go poke some people."

The holo shifts as Fives approaches another clone. "That's Jesse," she says.

"How can you tell?" Han asks. Only the back of his head and armor can be seen, but even if she hadn't already seen this recording before, she'd know it was Jesse. The clones were identical, but only in looks. They each had their own differences, subtle though some of them may be, and not one of them was the same as another. Once you understood that, it was easy to tell them apart.

But Han does not understand that, so she just shrugs.

Fives pokes Jesse with the ruler once and the other clone is already turning around. "Fives, what are you doing?" Jesse asks, his face a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

Fives pokes him again. "Isn't it obvious? I'm measuring your patience."

Jesse groans as Fives laughs, but he's smiling too. "You kidding me? My patience is limitless!"

"That's a lie," Fives says, going to poke Jesse again. Jesse bats the ruler away.

"Nuh uh," he says, "it's completely true!" Fives pokes him again and Jesse makes a grab for the ruler. Fives moves it out of his reach and takes off running.

He stops in the medbay. There's another clone in there, a medic based off the markings on his armor. Fives gets within four feet of him before he's stopped.

"Fives, what the kriff are you up to now?" The medic's voice holds a long-suffering tone that Leia knows is reserved specifically for Fives.

"Aw, come on, Kix!" Fives pokes him a few times with the ruler, but Kix never looks up from his work. "I'm only measuring your patience."

"Patience?" Kix says. "Oh, I have quite a few of those. I wonder how many. Say, Fives, how about you put your measuring skills to good use and-"

Fives is already leaving the room, but it's just long enough for a smirk to be seen on Kix's face.

Jesse is in the hall behind him, grinning. "So. That went well."

"Shut up, Jesse," Fives says, poking him once again with the ruler. "Let's go find someone else to bother."

They walk into the mess next. It's empty, save a few people. They scan the small crowd, until Fives smirks and elbows the clone next to him. "Hey Jesse, the Captain's over there, how much patience do you think-"

"Fives, I swear if you poke me with that ruler, I will personally throw you out the airlock," the man in question says, sipping from a cup of caf as he walks past them.

Fives and Jesse are silent as the Captain leaves. As soon as he's out of earshot, Fives turns to Jesse.

"You know, I don't think the Captain has any patience at all."

Jesse bursts into laughs, and the recording ends.

Leia shuts off the comm, putting it back on the cord around her neck.

"I didn't know that's what the clones were like," Han says after a few moments of silence.

"I didn't either," she says.

Han looks from her to the comm. Then he nods and leaves the cockpit.

~~~~~~~~

Leia is on Endor, and the Empire is finally dead.

The Rebellion has won. After years of fighting, they've won. Leia's happy, of course, who wouldn't be after such a victory?

But there is still much to be done. There's reports to be filled out, death counts to be confirmed, messages to be sent out across the galaxy explaining their victory here today, remaining Imperial holdouts to be dealt with, an entire government to be set up, the list could go on forever.

Now, however, is not the time for all that, Leia thinks, fingering the comm around her neck. Now is the time for celebration. It's not every day you take down a tyrannical government after all.

She sits down in front of one of the many fires being started, Luke on one side and Han on the other, and lets herself enjoy the party.

It isn't until much later, after the party has been in full swing for a few hours already, that she hears it. One voice amidst all the other cheers and shouts of the Rebels. It sounds familiar. A bit older than she's used to, maybe a bit more subdued, but familiar all the same.

She turns to Luke, who has a better view of everyone from his spot, and asks him if he knows the person the voice belongs to.

"That's Commander Rex," he says after shifting in his seat to get a better look at the man's face. She's heard of him a few times over the years, known enough about him to be glad when she saw his name on the list of members of the strike team to destroy the shield generator. She's never had a chance to meet him though, not with everything that had been going on.

Hearing his voice, coupled with his name, she wonders why she never put two and two together until now.

She goes to talk to him later that evening.

"Commander Rex," she says, holding out a hand. He takes it, grip firm and strong.

"Princess Leia," he greets. "Don't believe we've ever met before."

"No," she says, smiling, "Not in person.

"But I recognize you from somewhere else, Captain."

[maulusque]

Tup asks Fives about the tattoo of a handprint on his chest. Fives has the chance to tell Tup about Echo, and things get hopelessly schmoopy from there.

“So what’s the story behind that one?”

Fives looked over to see Tup, gesturing at Fives’ bare torso as he sat on his bunk and swung his legs up, leaning against the wall behind him. Fives paused in his search for his sleep shirt. His hand unconsciously rose to touch the tattoo over his right pectoral- the outline of a hand.

“One of my batchmates.” he said shortly. “Had a hand painted on his armor.”

“What was his name?” Tup asked. Tup had only been with them a few weeks. No one would have told him yet about Fives and Echo, the Terrible Twosome of the 501st, two halves of the same unit, FivesandEcho, EchoandFives.

“Echo.” Fives closed his eyes, waiting, waiting to see what reaction he’d have to saying Echo’s name. The grief was constant, but the pain came and went these days. Sometimes, it was a flood, a black pit, and he couldn’t mention Echo without feeling it choking him, feeling like he was drowning in it. Other days, he would say “Echo was” and feel nothing. Just numb.

Now, he felt the familiar burning sting rise in his throat, but he swallowed and took a deep breath, and the feeling subsided somewhat. 

“We were the last ones. Of our batch. Rex took us in after we lost the others. Kept us together. We spent the whole war together, me and Echo.” He looked down at Tup. Tup gave him a bleak smile.

“Tell me about him?” he asked. He moved over on his bunk to make room for Fives. Fives hesitated. He wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about Echo. But Tup didn’t know, hadn’t known Echo. And Fives would rather their little brother hear about Echo from him first, rather than from the rest of the guys. Fives loved his brothers and he knew his brothers had all loved Echo, but Echo was his. Fives liked Tup, and he thought that Echo would have liked their new kid brother, too. It wasn’t right for Tup to hear about Echo from anyone but Fives.

So Fives sat next to Tup, swinging his legs up and nudging Tup’s aside to make more space. Once he was settled, drew in a deep breath.

“He was... well, he was a great guy, Echo. Smart and loyal and strong and all that. Everything we’re supposed to be, you know. Practically had all the reg manuals memorized. That’s how he got his name, quoting reg manuals at people. He didn’t do it so much after we made ARC, but he could repeat back every order we’d ever been given, word for word. He just had a memory for that sort of thing, I suppose.” Fives glanced over at Tup and gave a small smile.

“He always looked out for me, too. Even when I got us both into trouble.” Fives paused to blink away the stinging sensation in the corners of his eyes. Tup reached out a hand between them. Fives took it, squeezing his fingers as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry.” he said. “I just... I really miss him.”

“I’m sorry.” Tup said. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Fives insisted. He took a few more deep breaths. “Echo deserves to be talked about.” Tup squeezed his hand in a silent gesture for him to continue.

“He got the handprint from Rex, actually. On our first posting, on this moon...” He told Tup the Rishi story, his voice growing stronger the longer he talked. He didn’t even falter when he talked about Droidbait, Cutup, and Hevy. Tup didn’t say anything, just absorbed Fives’ words. Talking about Echo like this, to someone who hadn’t known him, who wasn’t also mourning him, felt like release, like letting the pus out of a wound. He didn’t have to worry about Tup trying to hide his pain in order to not inflict it on Fives, the way Rex sometimes did. He didn’t have to worry about whether he was bringing up painful memories for someone else. He could just talk. And occasionally pause to wipe his nose on the cleaning rag Tup handed him. 

Around them, the bunkroom quieted down, as their brothers climbed into their bunks and fell asleep. Fives and Tup ended up lying down on Tup’s bunk, facing each other with their hands intertwined between, Fives whispering to Tup about that one time Echo and I stole Rex’s helmet and painted a kitty face on it with the Jaig eyes as the ears. It was like a dam had broken, and now that he’d started, Fives just opened his mouth and out poured EchoEchoEcho, memories of his brother being released to Tup, so Fives was no longer the only one holding them. Tup listened, wide-eyed and awake, long after Fives had any right to keep him from sleep, and for the first time since Echo had died, Fives felt a lightness in his chest, felt the invisible distance between him and at least this one brother shrink away. 

At long last, Fives stopped talking, when the strength of the weight dragging down his eyelids and the yawn cracking his jaw outweighed the flow of memories. A few moments of silence passed.

“Thank you for telling me.” Tup whispered across the space between them.

“Thank you for listening.” Fives said. There was no discussion about Fives returning to his own bed. It didn’t occur to either of them. Tup shifted to pull his blanket out from underneath them. Fives moved closer to let him pull the blanket around them. He tucked his head under Tup’s chin, and Tup slung his arm over Fives’ shoulder. As Fives drifted sleepily, Tup’s heartbeat - slightly faster than Echo’s - in his ear, he felt something he could only describe as brightness. There would always be an Echo-shaped hole in his soul, he would always stumble over the space where Echo used to be, but maybe, maybe he could find happiness anyway. Maybe he wouldn’t always be Fives-who-lost-Echo, but Fives-who-lost-Echo-and-found-Tup.

[piahautea]

Appreciation Post: My Lovely Barkada

I’ve always been the stick-to-one type of friend.

Back during the first two years of junior high, you’d only see me with just one friend. One lunch buddy, one fair week constant, one automatic partner, one let’s-go-to-the-library-during-intrams-instead co-lazy bum, one companion and one everything. But never really the more meaningful ones like: a confidante, a tell-me-your-secrets-they’re-safe-with-me type of chill, a laughing comrade or a wingman /pagdating sa mga crushes na iyan/. That was until I met each of the cartoon people above. 

This post is dedicated to them. The not-so-small barkada I never thought I’d have. They've also been so supportive of my blogging ever since and I want y’all to meet them! Somehow you may also try to see a part of yourself in them with their little intro’s /but that's only if you want to/.

A little disclaimer by the way: Their art banners are filled with silly deets about them while their actual descriptions are a lot graver; although, it's still sounding a lot like silly Pea wrote them, aye. 

This is Leila. Leila’s been one of my best friends since 10th grade. I never thought we’d be in the friendship situation we have now because I only thought surface-level bros were all we'd ever be. But, nah. What are those for anyway? She was the quietly-acing-my-way-in-the-honor-rolls type. And, well, I was trying so hard to be that student. But we just randomly sparked up a convo about my blog and her love for Niall Horan and then she became my confidante in an instant with her shipping me so hard with a Tumblr boy that I used to like. In the things I thought highly impossible for myself, she believed I could turn them around in my favor and she stood there behind me with her hand on my back. She’s the best. I still wish she'd become a doctor, even though she's already faced towards a different track.

This is Margaux. When she spots you and you tickle her fancy, she’d probably talk to you. Basically, that's what happened to us. We were just batchmates in the same baking class. That changed when we bumped into each other at a charm store; she saw me first, tapped my back and said, “Hi!” like it’s nothing. Post the little meeting and the year after, we became classmates. And then I knew that smiling was her best asset and her laughter was her best type of music. She’d made me cookies and a chocolate-mint birthday cake for my 18th because that’s her. You hear little words and phrases like pastries, being top-level artsy, beauty queen pageants, genuine grins, dressing up for fun and you got it. That’s still gonna be her.

This is Froilan. If you know me well enough, you’d know that this dude’s been one of my constants since the beginning of time /‘di naman haha since 9th grade lang siguro/. You'll see him almost everywhere I go and part of almost everything I do. We’ve also been constantly teased by past classmates about us having that chemistry and that maybe we were already secretly a couple. All I can say is, nope. We’re merely bros. I love him, though. In the gayest way possible. He’s amazing in general. He loves getting and slaying the D so much. Drawing, dancing and designing *wink wink*. I’m never afraid to be myself when I’m with him and for that I’m eternally thankful. He’s also my punching bag hehe he enjoys the force of my knuckles kissing and smashing his fudge brownie skin /poetic/.

This is Nesli. She’s the first friend I’ve ever made in our circle. We’ve been together since the 7th grade and mutually sworn to be each other’s best friends during 8th grade. She’s also one of my confidantes. And the one who’s literally seen me in the good, the bad & the ugly and has still loved me no matter what. She has a heart large enough to fit in giraffes, all her favorite Filipino & European dishes, historical fiction books, her family, her art, her hoes and all her other friends. She’s my happy pill, tbfh. She’s going to make it big in the animations field or in any other field because she’s that flexible. She can write, draw, paint /in both the common mediums/, care for wildlife and humanity vividly. It's such a cakewalk to believe in what she's capable of because when she dreams, she dreams with her eyes open and with stellar passion running freely in her veins.

This is Brian. He’s one of my sister’s former tutees. I’ve heard stuff about him being sassy and loud /which he was/, but our friendship was a bit like of a plot twist. An unexpected thing. Although believe me when I say this: my sister predicted that we’d be the best of friends in the future. And she was right about it. 9th grade and I can still fondly remember it all. We’d sit in a corner where people weren't around to sing Defying Gravity because it was his fave and I was his fave duet partner, too. Sooner or later, we begun that singing routine. He easily became the person I’d always wanna sing with and now he’s worked his way to get into theater by switching schools for both SHS and college. I love my theater geek friend /who apparently knows how to get wasted now/. And I miss having to deal with him and his antics everyday. 

This is Gia. Being friends with her was also an unexpected one. She’s quiet and was only the closest to Cather /you’ll get know her later/. We’d never really had those talk-talks until the final years of junior high. She lent me her copy of To Kill A Mockingbird and it opened me to widen my reading choices. We also discovered each others’ love for indie/alternative rock music. She loves Nirvana, blink-182 and The Killers and it killed me. I’d also boast to those who love her brother’s band from the indie OPM scene that I’m friends with the vocalist’s baby sister because Hello? it’s not everyday you get to be friends with someone who has blood thick and rich of musical notes and art. She's an epitome of those two things.

This is Mika. Mika was Froilan’s friend first. And then she randomly talked to me in class and we became instant friends who loved hugging each other. She’s the type to get crafty and make you keychains or little drawings of your favorite things for Christmas or your birthday. She’s the sweetest soul and she likes to share stories with you; it doesn’t matter how long you’ll chatter with her. She’s also super smart! She helps me with all the Math help I needed back when we still had to take Math. You would just never see an honor roll without her in it. And yes, she had a phase with Big Time Rush back in junior high. But now, it seems like she’s also been bitten by another Kpopper /probably a friend from outside the circle/. She's the kind of treasure I'd like to keep with me anywhere I go. 

This is Carmela. This one’s another plot twist kind of friendship. Like Margaux, she’s also extremely loud and friendly. Like randomly-popping-into-your-face kind of friendly. She’s chatty but it’s a reasonable kind of chatter. She also dances like a pro. I envy her grace on the floor and the flat stomach she'd cultivated out of that. We may not have the same amount of time as we had before but we see to it that no matter how busy we are, we’d never fail to exchange short stories and warm hugs when we see each other. Also, yes, she is my co-bully when it comes to Froilan. Everything she does to put him in artless misery cracks me up every time /that’s how we roll/.

This is Seline. I’ve only known her this year but since then, she’s already been one of my closest friends in class. We just vibe well and we could talk about anything in the pop culture spectrum or just anything Tumblr and art-related. I love how her mind just works like a charm and concocts puns real quick. I love how she'd update me and tell me stories about her dogs and their newborn puppies because we share the same love for these critters and it just makes me giddy every time. Because of her, I’m starting to rethink my stances on animated films /because I’m not big on those/. She makes some of the greatest digital artworks I’ve ever seen and I can’t wait to have more cafe adventures with her and our other amigos and to visit her in Benilde by the time we reach college. 

This is Cather(ine). Like Nesli, we’ve been friends since 7th grade and best girls since the 8th. She’s the cutest /next to my spot/ in the group and makes equally-adorable reactions to everything she sees. It kind of takes her a while to do almost everything she has to do but it adds up to how she handles anything with the utmost love and care not anyone would ever spare time for. She's also loud whenever she opens her mouth to speak /e.g. when we're in the car and it's quiet, she would completely ignore the silence and start a quickfire with her words but that's okay because she can never be irritating to me at all/. I love her that much. I hope she’d find solace in the fact that she’s a bright, bright kiddo who would slay any scientific fate she’d choose. I’d always have her back as she's always had mine.

When we met, it suddenly just made sense to meet altogether, too. It wasn't like our personalities were so similar with the other that we just had to gather around a campfire and talk about starting a tribe or something. Our personalities differ; but in such a way that we complement each other, filling gaps that needed a little something of this or that. But about the tribe thing, yes we do gather. Annually. For Christmas. And it has to be in a different house each year until we get to be in everyone's humble abodes.

Ladies & gents, this is my second ohana. My very own battle cohort. Top 1 in my small list of kada’s. My most favorite non-blood related people in the universe. I used to be a stick-to-one kind of person. Now, I'm mostly a stick-to-ten. 

[ambivertaf]

the boy with saintly names

Here’s another unfinished, short story (God, I’m so fucking lazy), and I’ll hide this person’s identity with the name Mister. So creative, right? I know, thanks. Get ready for one of the biggest cringefests you’ve ever read.

Things didn’t work with this person because we didn’t have the same attitude and philosophy towards this relationship, and just, relationships in general. I think if a person were to know how things ended from his perspective, people would almost always assume that I was completely at fault. I wasn’t the best at expressing myself and I know that, but I had my reasons (that I know I should’ve been more clear about as well). I tried becoming more of what I wasn’t for this relationship, but I just couldn’t keep up. Nevertheless, any of his friends can come ask me for my side of the story. I am an honest person and those who really know me can attest to this. Well, I hope you’re happy and have found what’s truly for you, Mister.

So here goes nothing.

I took summer classes last year and got into the Nursing students' section for my English class. I met him there, but we never talked--well I never talked to anyone except when it was debate or roleplay time and I only knew one person in the class. At the time, he was really a no-one to me. He only catches my attention when he finally comes to class. He seemed like a class-clown type of person. Outgoing. The partyboy type. Sufficiently wealthy and drives either a Mobilio or a Santa Fe--whichever his father wasn't using for the day.

Summer classes went about for 2 months. Yes, nothing happened. Until a few weeks after summer classes concluded. I don't exactly remember why, but I followed a bunch of the Nursing students on Twitter and Instagram because my friend did the same albeit rather more aggressive. I was selective, and of course, it included him. Snapchat was also fairly popular in their class so I got in there too.

Side story:

This, I thought, would be a way to stalk my crush: a nursing guy whom I was having constant eye-contacts with since the day I saw him play basketball at the inter-college games. We eyeballed for a month, then I gave in. I messaged that guy when I was drunk. It was a fairly long confession and I asked if he liked me too, but I was left inboxed, then got blocked the next day. No biggie, I'd be freaked out too if someone whom I personally don't know drunk-messaged me. Anyway, this story is not about that guy. But I still kinda like him though. He's tall and very handsome (subjective, I know). Even the way he walks is handsome. His perfume smells yummy too. Yes, yummy. You know, that smell when you just want to push that person to bed and fuck your brains out. Okay, I'll stop. But seriously, I was intensely attracted to this guy. I wrote quite a lot of entries about him here. Even dreamt about him once. And fantasized the fuck out of him. I imagined we'd fuck everyday if we became an item. Okay, now I'll really stop.

Now back to the main story!

I posted a photo of Tim-Tams on my Instagram story and Mister replied, asking where I bought them. I answered him, and he said thank you. And that was it. It was obvious to me that he was making a move. Tim-Tams are everywhere, man.

A few weeks past, our student org was having an event at this place called Gather. It was a night of live music and social interaction (gross). After a few drinks and one or two fake laughs with some acquaintances, I then got a Snapchat notification. It was a snap of a french bulldog from Mister. I was kinda confused why he'd sent me that, but I replied anyway.

"Cute ng pug!!"

He responded with "Righttt? French bulldog siya actually."

I only had "Ay, hahaha okay!" to say back. Bobo eh, bilang lang ang alam kong breeds. Sorry. Little did I know, he sent that snap to everyone, and he was just trying to start a snapstreak with me. I didn't have to reply. I just had to send him a snap back. Bobo talaga.

He replied to one of my snaps a little later, saying that he knew one of the singers. Turned out to be his batchmate from highschool. He said he'll try to come to the event, but of course, as all "Try ko"s, he didn't come. Meh, didn't matter.

A few weeks of occasional online small talks later, we were finally going to meet up and talk personally. I told him that his singer highschool batchmate was going to have a gig at a place near the school, and that I was going with a friend. He said he'd be there too. And he actually came this time. He and a friend of his took a bit of time to talk to their other friends before coming to me and my friend's table but it was alright. We glanced at each other and said our hellos. That was it. I know, that's so stupid, but I don't know. I'm the worst at meeting new-ish(?) people. Basta. I continued chatting with my friend, and he continued to chat with his. It was a big table anyway. Soon enough, his friend suggested that they go to a bar in Aguirre after the gig. Me and my friend were invited and so we tagged along. *Insert alternating shots of crazy dancing and alcoholic shots here.* I got drunk as fuck but managed to prevent puking. My head felt like it was going to blow up.

I had to go home at around 1 AM and so did everybody else. So we did. Everyone went their own ways but I was offered to be accompanied home by Mister. So we hopped on to his Mobilio. My amats had reduced at this point. We were both just "semi-buzzed". He can hold his alcohol quite well though. He's a partyboy afterall.

He was talkative while driving and as an introvert, I liked that he always had something to say. I've always found it a challenge to start conversations, let alone keep them going.

"Ok ka lang ba mag-drive ng medyo lasing?" I said. "Oo naman, di naman ganon karami yung nainom ko. Medyo buzzed, but I'm fine." "Lakas naman! Hahaha." "May turks ako dito, you want?" "No thanks. Not fond of sweet shawarma eh, hahaha." Sorry not sorry, Turks fans. "Sarap kaya! Hahaha."

He had a lot of stories to tell and I only had a few, short ones. He couldn't stop talking. He shared that he usually has friends accompany him either at home or at his condo until he's 100% sober, and he'd just drop them off the next day. His tone sounded like he wanted me to do just that. If I was really attracted to him at that point, I probably would've agreed to go, but I wasn't yet so I said that I really had to go home soon, or else no one would open the door for me.

"Thank you Mister, nice to meet you haha. See you." "Okay, see you din!"

So I was home. I thanked him again on Messenger. I'm not sure if his reply was "Anytime!" or "No problem!". Whatever. Small talk commenced once he got home as well. We said our goodnights, and he sent me a selfie. I was kinda WTF, but it's fine. I turned off my lights, took a picture and sent that to him. LOL. I'm not one to send selfies, sorry. I know I'm ugly and I cringe at the sight of my unsightly face on the front camera. So, no.

Our conversations escalated from occasional, to every day.

Annabelle: Creation came out and we, along with 2 other Nursing friends, decided to watch it. And of course, as fate would have it, the other 2 couldn't make it. I forgot their reasons why.

It's a date then. So cliche.

It was raining and I was coming from a spontaneous mini celebration of my lola's birthday in Container Turf. I struggled hailing a tricycle through the rain, trying to make it in time for the movie. I got drizzled a bit, but the show a.k.a. the landi must go on. I needed this la niña on my 2-year el niño.

I ran to the cinemas. He was standing there, holding his popcorn. Waiting for me.

It was a good movie with a shitload of jumpscares. I'm not easily scared though, and so I flinched a grand total of 0 times. Strong ako eh. Joke. I like horror movies because I don't get scared. He was a different story though.

He'd cover his eyes at times. "Uy, sayang lang ticket mo hahaha." I'd laugh at him. Sometimes his mouth. I'd laugh again. Even grabbed my arm once. *Pfft. Moves.* There, I flinched.

[imaginesnkdorks]

“A Role to Take” Part III

Pairing: Erwin Smith X Reader

Genre: Action; Fluff

Warnings: Violence (Slight)

Words: 1672

[Part I] [Part II] [Part IV]

A/N: Sorry this took so long. It’s summer here and that means lots of activities... I barely have any time to sit and write. Anyways, here’s the third part! - Mod Max

           It was a bloody massacre. Though, I personally didn’t see the gore. I’m in commander Erwin’s squad, front center of the formation. Pretty protected spot, really. We were just informed regarding the faith of the right plank – they’re wiped out. This worries me, the kids’ are there. We kept riding east

           “Send word to the rear, that only the central cart guard should enter the forest.” Erwin commanded. Two soldiers chorused, “yes, sir!” Before going off.

           By now, we’re in a forest of giant trees. An ideal environment for the 3dm gear, however, it’d be hard to see titans coming. We rode a bit more, going deeper into the forest before Erwin gave his next command.

           “This seems like a good spot. Hmm, yes.” We then tied our horses a bit off the clearing, and went back to it just as the carts arrived.

           “Set up the cannons!” Erwin commanded and we did as asked. These aren’t regular cannons, like those on top of the walls. These has arrows in them – well, arrow-like, at least. Honestly, I don’t understand what’s going on, but my job isn’t to think, it’s to follow Erwin’s command.

           Screams, and heavy thumps was echoing from where we entered. A shrill sound pierced through, this must be the signal Erwin told us.

           “Ready!” Erwin commanded, and everyone was on edge… any time now!

           “Fire!”

           “A female ti-titan?” This titan looks remarkably different than the titans I’ve seen so far. It’s mostly muscle, barely any skin. And it looks a lot like a woman. Wait… I’ve seen a similar titan before. The colossal titan!

           A zip flashed alarmingly close to me, and next thing I know Captain Levi is standing beside me and Erwin.

           “Looks like it’s stopped moving.” The former commented.

           “We can’t lower out guard. But you did well, leading it here.” Erwin said. I suddenly felt out of place. Still, I’ve got nowhere to go.

           “Men in the rearguard squads died, buying us the time we needed. We couldn’t have done it without them.” Captain Levi added.

           More people died today. My hands are starting to hurt, I guess I’m gripping my gear to tight. I’m worried, not only about Connie, but for the rest of my batchmates. They are people I know, after all. All so young. I was pulled away from my musing when I heard Captain Levi say something peculiar.

           “Thanks to them, we’ll be able to see who’s inside this thing. I hope they haven’t pissed themselves.”

           “Who’s inside? You mean, it’s like Eren?” I asked, completely out of turn. That’s probably why Captain Levi looked at me as if I sprouted horns. And it seems he only noticed me then. Ugh, and I was standing between him and Erwin.

           The two men looked at each other – and there’s something about it that made me very uncomfortable, as if it’s about me.

           Captain Levi broke away from Erwin and turned to look at me. “Of course. If it were any other titan, we wouldn’t have bothered with it.”

           “Ah, of course.” I said, feeling the frown forming on my forehead. There’s still something off.

           “Tsk, you look like you’re constipated. If you have something to say, say it.” Captain Levi said… and he’s obviously referring to me, much to my embarrassment.

           “I – I do not! But, I can’t help but think this one looks similar to the colossal titan. Which means, that the colossal titan’s probably another shifter – like Eren.”

           “Oh?” Captain Levi said, accompanied by a brow of his reaching the middle of his forehead.

He then turned his attention back to the female titan, drawing his blades.

           “Wait, Levi. An eye for an eye. Fire!” Erwin said. It doesn’t look like this female titan will be moving anytime soon. Once it was secured, Captain Levi and Squad Leader Mike went in for the kill.

           “Nothing happened?” I mumbled as both Levi and Mike zipped away the female titan, blades tattered or even gone to smithereens. Erwin and I have a clear view of the female titan’s nape; where it’s hands are positioned, obviously protecting the nape. What’s more, it seemed to be crystalized.

           “(Y/N).”

           “Yes, sir?” I answered Erwin.

           “Prepare the explosives. Blow off its hands.”

           “Yes, sir… ah, but we might also blow up what’s inside.” I might not have been a hundred percent aware about this titan shifter, but I do know how much firepower we have. That’s what I’m in charge of.

           “Then set them to amputate the wrists.” Erwin crept closer, resting a hand on my shoulder, then added, “set them all off at once at my signal.”

           “Understood!” I then zipped off towards the explosives, telling the others about Erwin’s orders. It isn’t that hard pointing these towards the wrist, and I assisted in doing so. Then….

           HWARRRRGHHH!!

           HWARRRRGHHH!!

           A shrill, most horrible sound I ever heard reverberated around us. It almost shook the ground with its intensity. As everyone did, I also looked up at the female titan where a figure stood upon its head.

           “Captain Levi?” I’m still right by the explosives, close enough to the female titan’s feet. A suffocating wave of fear envelopes me – something’s wrong.

           That’s when we heard it – the telltale sign of an incoming titan horde.

           “Ready those explosives now!” Erwin commanded, voice booming around us. We tried to work faster, however the constant rumbling of the ground proves to be quite distracting. As we try to do our jobs, a ruckus seems to be going on around us, with Erwin barking another order and some calling Captain Levi.

           “Huh?!” Three titans were making their way towards the female titan, and they’re completely ignoring us? What is going on?

           A disaster – that’s what went on. I thought I was ready for this. I saw titans already, I’ve also seen death… yet, this was crushing. The person inside the female titan escaped, killing Captain Levi’s squad in the process and taking Eren with them. That was until Captain Levi and Mikasa took him back.

           Clearly, the Battle at Trost is child’s play compared to actual expeditions. What was I thinking? Could I do this for the rest of my life? Fight monsters who are stronger and bigger than me? Watch more people die? And may be, die as well? Is this all there is to my pitiful existence?

           This brings me back to my conversation with Erwin. He gave me this personal mission, of figuring out what I want. I never really did spend much time thinking about it, what with this expedition and all the tasks that was waiting for me.

           What do I want? Despite everything, I have an answer... yet I’m afraid to say it out loud... afraid to actually want it.

           We reached Trost in the early afternoon. Our size dwindled down to half. Due to the expedition’s utter failure, we were summoned to the capital – well, at least the officers and Eren Jeager.

           Thump …. Thump… thump…

           My knuckles rapped repeatedly at the commander’s door. I just finished gathering the final list of names… of the deceased and the missing.

           “It’s (Y/N), sir.” I said, announcing my presence.

           “Come in.” Was the muffled reply of the man inside.

           “Here’s the finalized list of names, sir.” I stated as I handed the document over, our hands brushing. Funny, how as simple as that made me feel as if I’m floating. But Erwin doesn’t seem to be liking it – he has a frown on.

           “Oh! Erhm, Erwin. Sorry.” I always forget about him requesting me to stop saying sir. At that, though, I was rewarded with a smile.

           Erwin scanned the list I gave him, while I busied myself clearing up the tea cup that’s been sitting on his desk. I better get him a new one.

           Erwin let go of a sigh, just as he said, “this is quite a long list. I’m afraid I won’t be able to finish these.”

           “I can do it for you.” I volunteered even before I could really think about it. “Uhm, if that’s okay with you.” Erwin’s blue eyes locked on mine, and I know he can see through me. I am even confident enough to say that by now, he probably knows me better than I know myself.

           “But is that alright with you? Don’t you have any other tasks that’s keeping you busy?” He inquired.

           “No – not at all. I’m got this. Really.” I flashed him the best smile that I could muster. “Actually, I want to do this – help you, Erwin.”

           “You’ve helped me a great deal already, (Y/N). And I’m very thankful for it. The Survey Corps’ really lucky to have you.” Then, he shook his head before adding in a whisper – “I’m quite a lucky one to have you.”

           That was the push that I needed, apparently to tell him something so honest… I just bared it all for him, I guess.

           “Well, I guess I’m not just doing my job. I’m also doing something that I want… something that makes me happy. I like helping you; I like to think that I make your life a little easier.”

           “This … this is what you want?” Erwin said. He’s standing up now, towering over me. Yet, he crouched his head a little, to be able to look into my eyes.

           “Yes. I – I want … you.” I said, surprising myself. All my life I’ve never wanted for anything or anyone – until now. Spending all those time with Erwin made me see him – beyond that cold commander persona of his. He’s just a man. A lovely man who wanted to change the world for the better – a man who would dedicate his life for the sake of humanity. A man who has captured my heart.

           After what seemed like forever; of my heart pounding madly and of getting lost in those blue eyes of his, Erwin’s hands raised to my face – cupping my cheeks. He closed his eyes as his forehead rested on mine, with me following suit.

           “I want you, too.” He whispered, before I felt his lips on mine.

Copyright © 2017 by imaginesnkdorks. All rights reserved

[significant-what]

sneak peek

Hey you guys! Since it’s taking me annoyingly long to finish any of my current works, I decided to give you a sneak peek on the class reunion AU I’m writing thanks to @bailci​. Kind of like to give myself a reason to get my shit together and finish this thing god damn it.

Original prompt from @solangeloprompts:

Class Reunion AU. Everyone from their batch knew how much Will Solace and Nico di Angelo hated each other back during high school.

So, when their reunion took place fifteen years later, none of their batchmates ever expected for the two to get along so well with each other much less find out that they’re actually…engaged?

Just what had happened during those fifteen years?

Read my sneak peek under the cut! :)

”He’s looking at you again.”

Nico smirks. He’s felt the eyes drilling holes to the back of his head for the last ten minutes. ”Damn right he is.”

Jason sighs and shakes his head, reaching to steal a fry from Nico’s tray. It’s not like Nico’s going to eat them all, anyway. ”What did you do?” 

”Who says I did anything?” Jason just gives him a look, and Nico can’t really hide it anyway, so he shrugs and smiles cruelly. ”I may have filled his locker with pink confetti.”

A roll of eyes. ”Really, Nico? Pink confetti?”

”Matches his eyes.”

”His eyes are blue.”

”I know.” Nico looks over his shoulder and spots Will Solace three tables away, glaring at him and murdering his lunch with a plastic fork. He has a piece of pink tissue paper stuck in his yellow curls. ”Oi, Solace! Pink’s a good color on you.”

A few people giggle. The war between them is no secret to anyone in the school.

”I will end you, di Angelo.” If Nico didn’t hate Will Solace so much, he could maybe admit that the red tint on his cheeks looks nice. But he does, so he can’t. ”I will make you regret this, and then I’ll end you.”

Nico gives him an arrogant grin. ”You can try.” Truthfully, Nico isn’t too afraid. Solace is clever, he knows, but he hasn’t been too creative with the paybacks in the past. The worst he’s done is change his locker combination so he’s had to ask the janitor for help. ”Everyone knows you don’t have what it takes.”

Solace keeps glaring at him, but Nico just turns his back again (kind of risky, really) and starts eating his lunch. He’s kind of proud of his last move. It took ages to get the small pieces of paper to the locker without anyone noticing, and he had to skip both History and Chemistry, but it’s so worth it.

He’s halfway through his bag of chips when he notices Jason staring at him. ”What?”

”Why do you hate him so much?” Nico wants to groan and bang his head against the table. This again. ”As far as I know, Will is a really cool guy. Everyone else seems to like him. Percy said he’s really fun, and Piper has French with him and says he’s really clever without being a smartass about it.”

Nico rolls his eyes. ”Of course Piper would like him.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?”

It’s not that Nico really dislikes Piper. She’s cool. She’s weird in the way that she has feathers in her hair and wears ski jackets over her school uniform, but she’s cool. It’s just that now that Jason likes her and she has actually noticed that, the two of them have turned into those annoying people who don’t exactly date but give each other heart eyes all through home room. Nico has to dislike her for something.

”He’s exactly the type of person she would like”, Nico explains, taking a fry and deciding they taste like shit now that they’re cool. He pushes them away. ”He smiles at strangers. He tutors people. He plays sports and cheers on his team mates. He’s – ”

”A decent human being?���

Everything I’ve always wanted to be. ”A pain in the ass.” Deciding that lunch is over for him, Nico gets up and gathers his stuff. ”That’s all he is. I don’t need a reason to hate him; he hasn’t given me a reason not to.”

He leaves the tray for Jason, knowing he will probably get an earful about it later, and makes his way out of the cafeteria.

Nico isn’t the cool kid in Goode High. He doesn’t get pats on the back for a good prank. People don’t congratulate hi for getting Solace again. They don’t exactly glare at him, but the looks are not really friendly, either. Jason is right. People like Will, and the fact that Nico pulls prank after prank on him doesn’t do him any favors.

But it’s okay. Honestly. Nico doesn’t even want to be on their good side. Maybe he once did, back when he actually cared what people think, when he didn’t dread going home as much as going to school, when his sister was still alive and his father didn’t put the pressure of continuing a legacy on him. But not anymore. These days Nico is just happy to walk the halls alone, with people making way and avoiding eye contact, almost as if they’re afraid of him. It’s all fine.

Nico gets to his locker and decides that since he already skipped all the morning classes he might as well skip the rest, too. He gets his leather jacket, slams the locker shut, and makes his way out the doors without no one trying to stop him.

He’s in the middle of the parking lot when he realizes his jacket is dripping. He holds it up and puts an arm to the right sleeve.

It’s the confetti. All the confetti has been soaked in water and stuffed inside his jacket.

Someone snickers behind him.

”You’re dead, Solace!”

[surotmatias]

It’s one thing learning about a batchmate or that-person-from-this-course or a professor dying, but it’s another to go to one of your former students’ wake; a student who was, is, one of your favorites and whom you knew from the get-go was going to be somebody and outlive you and attend your funeral, maybe even give a heartfelt eulogy if you’re worth their five minutes. 

(It’s also - ironic is not the right word because something else is fitting for this scenario but I can’t put my finger on it - that she died on what would have been my grandfather’s 100th birthday, and that her wake was held at the same place as his. Might be a coincidence, might be the universe telling me something, but anyway that’s not the point of this entry. Or, it could be. Who knows.)

She passed at the very young age of 23: sorta fresh out of college (go UP!), very active in church (even went on missions outside the country), intelligent, smart, beautiful, can sing, can dance, can act, soft-spoken, always quick with a smile --- basically everything you ever want to become, or if it’s too late, everything you want in a future daughter. Only catch is, she’s got lupus. Or had lupus. Apologies if my tenses are not what they need to be.

The place was filled to the brim when I got there (there were over a hundred people, not counting the ones who couldn’t get in and those who were still on their way), but thanks to my tiny-ness I was able to make my way inside and find a nice spot beside the make-your-own-coffee-table-thing just in time for the service to start. It opened with one of her favorite worship songs, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t choke up every three/five minutes in between the songs and the eulogies. We weren’t close as adults the way we were when she was my student --- in fact my last memory of her is when we bumped into each other in a restroom in a building in Ortigas five or six years ago and we said the usual hi-hello-OMG-what-are-you-doing-here-how-you been-see-you-around to each other, and everything else that followed were likes or hearts on Facebook posts --- but I guess what made me tear up here and there was that after all the eulogies, I found out that she stayed the same person I knew some ten or eleven years ago. If anything, it seems she even became a much better person since then.

And I know you would say “Of course no one talks bad about a dead person at their funeral!” but in this case, every person who spoke in front did talk about her less-than-pleasant qualities, but I guess she still did way more good than not-so-good that’s why a lot of people who wanted to pay their last respects had to fall in a very long line that extended out to the hallway just to do so. 

This got me thinking, and I’m just gonna make this about me for more than a sec, but humor me: If I died now, as in right now, what would people say about me? And let me write that again: What would they say about me? Just me --- not as a colleague, not as someone who does what she does, not as a family member, not as a friend, not as a lover. Just me. Because I know I wouldn’t know what to say. Can’t say I’m a good person - I burn as many bridges as I make, I make choices I thought were the right ones to make only to find later on that they would all come and bite me in the ass, I curse a lot, I think too much of what people would say when it doesn’t matter, I think too little of what people would feel when it matters (and it always does), and I know that’s what they say will happen when you become an adult or at least when you get inducted into adulthood, but most of the time, I don’t feel like an adult and I don’t feel like I’m ready for adulthood. Honestly, I felt more of an adult when I was eight or nine than now that I am three years shy from being twice the legal age. There are days when I feel like I’m regressing, and there are days when I feel like I’m growing up on hyper speed. There was a time when I thought I knew everything and understood everything but as the years roll by I realize more and more how much I don’t know and just how much I don’t understand and how much more of the world and things and the people in it I will never understand. There are (a lot of) days when I question how I even got by, how and why I have the things and the people I have, how I managed to still exist and even exist comfortably. Am I just drifting and just lucky enough not to die in spite of the dumb decisions I make, like that stereotypical character in slasher flicks who’s hella annoying and does more harm than good and doesn’t help push the story forward but still manages to survive to the very last frame before the credits start to roll and is even in the top billing of the credits? How did I get here, really? Better question: why am I still here? Shouldn’t the good and better people be here instead, and shouldn’t they be alive instead of dead? Where is the logic in all of this? And if there is no logic, then there is no point to all of this and if there is no point to all of this, then why don’t we all just die altogether right at this instant and call it a day? And all this time, where was God in this entire illogical scenario?

This is where we circle back to what happened earlier this evening: one of her brothers told the story of when he challenged her to prove that God exists, one that he remembered when he was questioning God why his baby sister had to die. What she told him doesn’t make sense but makes the most sense at the same time: If you look for evidence that God doesn’t exist, you will find it. But, if you look for evidence that God does exist, you will find it too. It’s all a matter of which of the two gives you hope.

The logic may not exist and the parallelism may be flawed, but I’ll choose hope any time. I don’t need to be a child nor an adult to make that choice; I just need to be me - this girl who’s always taking one step forward but always finds herself two steps back but is always trying, trying really hard.

Rest well, Gia. You’re home now, and you’re more alive now than you ever were.