#listening to the same song on repeat for three hrs

[h-c-u]

No longer a secret pt 3

Summary: The one where InternetTM has ideas and the relationship officially goes public.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader

W/C: 4k

Rating: PG, age gap

TWs: none

A/N: I didn't expect the characters to grow this much, but I guess we're in it, guys, gals and pals. Also, below you can find a link to a playlist I listen to while writing all of this softness. The songs on it don't apply to either of the characters, just put me in a good mood for fluff. Also-Also - I don't have a clear plan for a part 4, so it might be few days before I'll write it.

Taglist: @crimeshowjunkie, @omgsuperstarg

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | List of tags | Playlist for the series

You hated waking up early, especially alone in bed, but there had to be some cons of being with a man like Toto. Although it was more of a personal preference, than a true inconvenience. And during most mornings out of season, you had him all to yourself...

But today he was most likely either in some early meeting, or still in the gym, and you had your own meeting in about 30 minutes, so it was time to get up and get ready. 

You've just finished making a quick breakfast and a second coffee for your guest when there was a knock at the door. 

Mr. Zane, or Mark - as he insisted you should call him - was definitely worth whatever Toto was paying him because he was able to find a discrepancy in your contract that not only could void it after 30 days of you not being assigned a "full-length uninterrupted interview", based solely on the word uninterrupted, you could also sue the network based on precedence you wouldn't be able to repeat under any threats.

He already drafted a proper resignation letter mentioning all the legal things, and next to that, there was a letter from his firm stating that a failure to comply would result in legal action. You only wanted to add one condition to the things he prepared - you wanted to be the one to announce your departure from the network first; on your personal social media and without naming specific reasons.

He quickly edited the file to include that condition, and passed the tablet to you to sign, and just like that - everything was taken care of. And as a bonus, he checked a statement you quickly prepared, just to make sure the wording was ok, and after a few tweaks, you had it ready to post as soon as you got a reply from the HR department. And Mark assured you that they should confirm everything when the message will be marked as read since everything was effective immediately. 

A twenty-minute meeting saved you a full month of additional work, and with that, you were officially free. And unemployed. You would just have to return all the network-issued gear and vacate the room they paid for as soon as possible, which shouldn't be an issue, since the majority of your things were already here. You also no longer could use your press pass and network ID, but that wasn't going to be a problem, since you had no desire to do so. Sure, it was a dick move to leave your colleagues in the middle of the season, especially when there was supposed to be coverage tomorrow on track. But your resignation was a great opportunity for someone to put to good use. 

To your surprise, you got the notification that your Network acknowledges your resignation and accept the terms before Mark left the suite, and you had to make sure three times that it was indeed real because it still felt like a dream. After he finished the coffee, he congratulated you on your freedom, and just like that - he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and you immediately went into damage control mode, making call after call to your friends in the network, letting them know that you're no longer with the company; you didn’t want them to find out from a company-wide email, or worse - your social media. To those you couldn't reach, you wrote a message, and since all of you were basically in the same camp, there was no one who was bitter or angry; your friends fully supported your decision. Sure, there were a few less-than-appropriate comments, but all were in good faith.

Toto came back from the gym while you were still on the phone, and gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head in passing, because he didn't want to hug you when he was still sweaty, and before he disappeared in the bathroom, you mouthed "It's done, thank you...", and you could almost feel the pride radiating off of him, even though you basically didn't do anything. A question on the other side of the line made you turn around and focus on the reply.

When he came out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his hips you couldn't help but stare a bit, and Toto just smiled when he caught you, came closer, and wrapped his arms around you, while you put your right hand on his shoulder blade, pulling him closer, so you could rest your cheek on his chest. His skin was so warm after the shower, that you could just melt into it, but you knew you couldn't stay like that long, because he had to get ready, and you had to continue the call session. Well, you technically didn't have to, but you wanted to explain whatever you could in person. 

You eventually let go of him, still deep in a conversation with your friend from the weather department, who just asked about your plans for t   future. You started telling her a rough idea of the project, and while Toto was getting dressed, you went to the kitchen to make him a coffee and take the breakfast out of the fridge, so he wouldn't miss it. You knew you didn't have to do that, but you enjoyed doing small things like that for him, and he did the same for you.

It looked like he would have a virtual meeting first because he took out his laptop, so you left him at the kitchen island and quietly closed the door to the bedroom, from where you continued your calls. You honestly thought that it would take less time, and after the sixth call, everything became so repetitive, that you honestly started to regret that you didn't make a group chat and let them know by a meme that you quit. 

But you eventually finished, and it was almost 11. It's not like you had something else to do today since you were officially free, but that feeling of guilt for not doing anything specific was present in the back of your brain, so you sighed and came into the other room, trying to figure out if Toto was still in the meeting, and when you heard your own voice coming from his laptop, you realized that he definitely wasn't. 

You lowered the barstool he was sitting on so you could take a look over his shoulder to see what he was watching, and the sudden movement down made him laugh. You hugged him from behind and rested your chin on his shoulder, because for once you could do that without abysmally tall high heels. He was watching your interview with Lewis from yesterday, and you came just in time to see him walking into a frame and putting his jacket over your shoulders. 

- My hero... - you laughed, and you pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. You stayed like that until the video ended, and after it did, you reached under his arm and scrolled down to see the comments, and you immediately started shaking, trying to contain laughter.

- "Y/N is so strong because I simply would have fainted if he did that to me..." - you read out loud the latest one, and he took over scrolling, so you wouldn't have to strain your wrist. - Oh, Mr. Wolff, please catch me in your strong arms if I faint...? - you couldn't help yourself and he shook his head with disbelief.

- It will be hard for me to catch you if you're behind me... - he laughed, and pulled you in front of him, basically switching your positions, so you leaned on him and intertwined your fingers with his on your stomach. 

- This one is funny... "Y/N is definitely in a secret relationship with Lewis Hamilton. In this essay I will...". - he read out loud, and you couldn't help but laugh. A quick look in the top right corner told you that you were still logged into your account on his computer, so you hit reply and commented "Where is the essay, OP...?", and he laughed even harder. 

- I like this one "A single mom who works two jobs, and one o  the jobs is definitely making sure his favorite son won't get sick", it's a reference to a song... - you added and you could feel him smiling, while you typed, but you hesitated before you hit send. - Are we ok with that...? - you made sure, even though it wasn't anything specific, just a slight suggestion. "Ok, but like are we sure-sure he's single?" 

- Are you ok with that...? - he flipped the question, and instead of replying you just sent the comment, and you could feel him pulling you closer, so you basically sat on his lap now. - Do I want to know what that means? - he pointed at one of the comments that read "Where is that fan cam of Toto to "big boy" because I suddenly need it to survive.", and you laughed again.

- I don't think I've ever seen this specific one, but people take clips of other people, in this case, you, and put them together to different songs. I suspect in this case they refer to you looking very hot, Neshama Sheli. - he couldn't help but laugh. 

- I don't think I'd like to see that... I would be much more interested in seeing fan cams of you, Schatzi. - you shook your head and wrinkled your nose, when he pressed a quick kiss to your temple, while you continued scrolling, and while there were a lot of comments about pet race, Toto's gesture was the second thing people talked about the most, and you both laughed from one more "I volunteer as a headset!", referring to the fact that there were times when he didn't treat his headsets the best. 

Only after you saw a comment where someone said that they can't wait for your next interview with Lewis, you realized something. 

- Shit, I forgot to post the official information about my resignation. - you immediately grabbed your phone and posted the prepared statement across all your social media. 

- By the way, I requested a Mercedes pass for you till the end of the season, so you could still come and go to the tracks as you want. - he said when you finally closed his laptop and turned around so you were facing each other. 

- Thank you. - this time you had to lean a bit to kiss him, and you would have lied if you said that you didn't enjoy it. 

- Is there anything else I can do for you, love? - he asked, pressing his forehead to yours. 

- Actually... - you took a deep breath - I want to get in front of the possible rumors, and I want to announce, well... us. - a giant smile bloomed on his face while he pulled you for another kiss. 

- No more hiding...? - he asked more as a formality, but he also wanted to make sure that you were 100% ok with sharing that part of your life.

- No more hiding. - you confirmed, your voice surprisingly confident.

- Then what are you waiting for? - you couldn't help but laugh. 

- It's a whole process... You know business and management, I know journalism, but more important - I know social media, and I know exactly how quickly the information and wild theories will spread in this community. – this whole endeavor would require some finesse, and you honestly debated if you shouldn’t leak your relationship to a few drama channels yourself to avoid ripping the Band-Aid yourself, but it would be much messier that way.

- I understand. What do you need me to do...? - he asked and leaned back on the stool a bit, so he could look at you better. 

- Take a selfie with me... I was thinking about posting it with information that I will go live and answer questions for about 30 minutes to dispel any craziness that will definitely come up sooner or later. - you explained your plan. All of it still seemed so surreal...

- Sounds good. Is that all you need? - he asked again, closing his knees a bit, and squeezing you between them.

- I mean, I still need to get the rest of my stuff from the other hotel, but I'll do that later today. - you sighed. You had more things to do, but this one had a deadline 

- I'll drive you. - he said as if it was the most obvious thing, and it wasn't even a question.

- Toto, you have a race to think of... And I am perfectly capable of doing that myself. - you tried to steer his mind away from taking care of you, but he didn't budge.

- I know... But consider this - I want to. - well, how could you argue with such sound logic? - Do you have any ideas for the photo?

- Not really, but I don't want it super staged, so I guess... just smile...? - he placed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, and you turned around, sat on his lap, and turned the camera on the two of you, while he leaned a bit forward and rested his chin on your shoulder. You quickly took a few pictures in a row, while he placed another kiss on your cheek and you couldn't help but smile. And when you started lowering your phone, you felt the vibrations in his pocket, but it was to be expected. He chose to ignore them in favor of another few seconds this close to you. - Answer your phone, Meu Tudão... - and with a heavy sigh he did, while you stood up from his lap and started to choose the best of the photos. And the one when he kissed your cheek and you smiled was just perfect. 

You quickly cropped it so the proportions would fit the layout of the website, and made the picture a bit brighter, but that was it. The description only read "30 min live AMA at noon, get ready". You turned the screen in Toto's direction, so he could take a look, and he gave you thumbs up and a huge smile, and that was enough for you to post it. 

Not even a minute passed and the notifications started blowing up your phone to the point that you had to turn them off for this specific app in fear of it crashing every few seconds. 

You still had at least 10 minutes till the live, so you got something to drink from the fridge, because you suspected that 30 minutes of talking might make you a bit parched. You also carefully chose the place you wanted to stream from. Definitely not in front of the window because of the light, and you didn't want to share the view, so you opted for a couch set on the wall perpendicularly to the floor-length windows. You also made sure that there weren't any personal items in the frame, just in case. 

Toto was still on the phone, but as soon as you started your live, he moved to the bedroom, because the things he was talking about weren't exactly public. 

- Hi everyone... Oh, wow... There are a lot of people here... Jeez... - you looked at a quickly growing count indicating how many people were currently watching you, and the number was significant; you knew that neither of you was exactly anonymous, but it still exceeded expectations. - Ok, I'm gonna give everyone one more minute to join in and then I'll start answering questions... - you explained and leaned back a bit, but still made sure that the angle was good. You slowed down the chat, just so you'd be able to read anything. - How am I...? I'm great! Nervous as hell, but I'm actually great. - you didn't want to be quiet for that minute, so you decided to answer a few general questions. - Where am I...? I'm currently at the Ritz-Carlton... - You saw that the number of viewers started to stabilize, so you knew it was time.

- Ok, time for some serious questions and serious answers. As usual, I won't engage with anything vulgar or inappropriate, so make sure to keep your questions clean. But first some general info, so we're on the same page... - you took a deep breath because it would be the first time you shared that information out of your own free will. - Yes, me and Toto Wolff are together. We've been together for just over a year now... - you couldn't help but smile when you saw the flood of reactions in the chat, and you tried to catch as many questions as you could. - Did anyone know? No, not until yesterday. We decided to keep it private because of my career. Is someone blackmailing me to share that information...? - you couldn't help but laugh. - No, no... I'm doing it out of my own free will, no blackmail involved. - you took a moment to get to another question. - Did my departure from the network was because of our relationship? No, it's not. I keep my work life separated from my private life and there was no influence either way. - another quick break to catch up and read the question. - Why did I quit my job? I didn't quit my job. It was a mutual departure because our priorities no longer lined up and continuing that partnership wouldn't be good for either me or them. - you stuck to the things Mark approved earlier today. - Why am I sharing this now? Since I no longer will be working around the track, there was no reason to keep it secret. - you noticed that Toto left the bedroom, the phone still in his hand, but he was no longer on a call. You didn't ask him to join you, and you were prepared to do the AMA alone, but he sat next to you and wrapped his arm around you, and the chat exploded again. - Say hi to everyone... There are over 20k people watching us now... - you almost instinctively leaned into him. 

- Hello everyone! And wow! 20k just for us? That's impressive! - he leaned forward a bit, so the angle would be better. 

- Do you want to answer a few questions, Ya Amar? - he smiled, and you could see on the screen that he wasn't looking at the camera, only at you, and that warmed your heart. 

- Sure, why not... - he chuckled quietly. 

- So how did we meet? - you relayed one of the questions that popped up in the chat with a smile because the mere memory of that afternoon was more than enough to put you in good mood. 

- Well, believe it or not, it was nowhere near the track. She actually yelled at me, because I accidentally destroyed the flowerbed in front of a small B&B she was staying at, and that was enough for me to know then and there... - he smiled when you looked at him, and you couldn't help but blush a bit. 

- And I did that fully knowing who he was because the older couple put so much work into maintaining that flowerbed and he just... run over it! - you built on top of his story. 

- In my defense, I did that to avoid hitting a squirrel! - now both of you were laughing, and it took you a second to remember that you should be answering more questions. 

- Where was our first date? - you read the question out loud, and you were preparing to answer it when Toto cut you off.

- Oh, that's easy... Deutsches Technikmuseum in Berlin, and it lasted what... 10, 11 hours? - he replied and pulled you closer.

- Yup, it's a very big museum, and we were there since it opened till it closed, and we still didn't see everything. And after that, we went to a park and just sat on the grass and talked. It was perfect. - you added. You didn't want to share more details like - a much too expensive, very poor-quality dinner you sneaked onto the roof of the brewery on the museum grounds... Or the cheap strawberry champagne with glitter, which you chose only because you thought he would never buy or drink it, and which later exploded in his hands before he even managed to open it, soaking both of you in a pink, sugary, sticky residue; fortunately, neither of you got hurt then.

- Indeed... It was perfect because it was with you... - he leaned a bit and pressed his forehead to your temple, and you looked at the chat again in search of another question.

- Do we live together? Come on guys, that's too personal. What did we do for our first anniversary...? We spent a whole week on a cabin cruiser in Greece, just the two of us... - you could feel his hand gently stroking your back. - Ok, we're over the 30min mark here, so one last question and we're done. Make it a good one, guys... Ok, ok... - you took a moment to actually choose the question. - What are our favorite things about each other...? For me, it's your smile. - you replied, more to him, than to the chat. - I know it's cheesy, but it represents so many things... It makes me feel safe and cared for, it tells me that there is nothing to worry about, and no matter what - everything will be all right. And even when I'm having the worst day of my life, when I see you smile, it all disappears, because you give me the strength to get through everything. - you said and he pulled you in for a quick kiss. 

- For me, it's also easy... You make me want to be a better person in every area of my life. You push me to do things I wouldn't even consider before I met you by forcing me to look at things from different perspectives. You have this way of listening to my problems, that makes me realize exactly how to deal with them, doesn't matter if it's about work or about something private... And you make me want to be a better man for you, a partner you could be proud of. - this time you were the one who pulled him into a kiss, not caring how many people were watching you, although currently, they were watching more of the ceiling than the two of you. 

- Ok guys... Thank you so much for watching, that's going to be it for today... - you centered the camera on you and Toto again. - Take care, everyone! - and with that, you ended the live. 

- That went well. - he said, pulling you closer, and you leaned into his body. 

- Actually, better than I expected. But I guess we'll see what the articles will say in a few hours. 

- Do you think there will be articles...? 

- Oh, there definitely will be articles... And I can guarantee that at least one of them will be titled something like "Austrian billionaire and his latest, much younger fling" or "A principal and his student". People on my side of the media are vultures... - you couldn't stop the sigh that came out of your chest, but even though you knew that people would take the one thing about your relationship and run with it till the end of Earth, you honestly didn't care. Not when Toto's arms were tightly wrapped around you. - Oh, and an honest heads up - you and your team will definitely be asked about me during media hour... - you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax a little. 

- Do you care about how we will be perceived? - he asked with that pure childish honesty in his voice. 

- 6 months ago, I honestly wouldn't be able to sleep because of it... But now...? - you smiled and looked up just so you could see his face. - Now I truly don't give a fuck. - he couldn't stop the light chuckle that made his chest vibrate under you. - And I pity people whose lives are so boring that the only entertainment they can come up with is making up lies about two people who clearly love each other... - you leaned back again, savoring this moment, because you could just feel that it will and soon. After all - it was still racing season, and even though positions for tomorrow were already assigned, Toto still had a lot to do before the race. 

Part 4

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[wincore]

romeo roulette | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

summary: if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

genre: soulmate au, office au, fake dating, fluff (a lot), angst (a little), romcom, magical realism (??)

words: 21.2k

warnings: language

song recs: playlist here !

a/n: behold ! a kdrama compressed in a fic ! ok i was lying there was more than a little angst but all in good fun <3 i have never experienced working in an office (thanks to the panny) but i tried making it as accurate as i could !! hope you have fun with this <3

It’s not that you’ve never been looked at with a lover’s gaze, it’s just that whatever look Jaehyun has been giving you is mildly uncomfortable. It’s not supposed to be that way. Hell, even his hand clasping yours are a little too clammy for your liking.

Jung Yoonoh. Get your act together.

You wish he were a better actor than this. For someone used to eyes on him in each and every room he’s in, he’s not very good at making eye contact. You’ll be saving this performance. Not to stroke your own ego but at least you know how to behave under strong gazes.

There are three people staring at the two of you and your fingers intertwined, scrutinizing your postures and the expressions on your faces. Maybe Jaehyun should face them instead of glancing at you wordlessly. He’s a terrible liar for someone who acts so smooth. 

You look up with a short smile. The aforementioned three are your coworkers—former class rep at uni and your current boss Doyoung, your friend Soojin and Jaehyun’s friend Sicheng from IT. None of them look happy—like it concerns them. If there was a competition for nosy coworkers, this entire group would be winning awards left and right (and that’s including you). 

They’re going to find out, an annoying voice giggles inside the quiet corner of your brain. Like hell, they will. You didn’t take up acting lessons in college for nothing. You just need to focus on the details.

This whole charade dates its beginning to a week ago. 

If someone were to tell you Jung Yoonoh from marketing is your soulmate, you would most certainly either laugh or take it as a genuine insult. Hence, you were glad when you found that he isn’t. 

It was an accident. You had glimpsed at his soulmark, right below his collarbone, at a particularly wild office afterparty—and somehow, you thought it was fitting that his tattoo was a little red heart. For someone born on Valentine’s day (which you know from a night out with coworkers, not because you’re remotely interested), if his soulmark was not something as disgusting as a heart, it would be the textbook definition of irony. But then again, fate is a funny thing. Your soulmark is a heart roughly the same size, with a little more intricacy in the form of a piercing arrow.

Despite all, however, if someone were to ask you if Jung Yoonoh is the worst person to be your soulmate, the answer is no. You can name at least five coworkers off the top of your head that you’d choose him over. You would choose him over Doyoung (and especially his nagging), you would choose him over Taeyong because he’s too hot and you also don’t like men in a higher position than you are, you would choose him over Jungwoo because you suspect he’s secretly a furry. Jaehyun is certainly better than your deskmate Dongmin who, despite an angelic smile, is: a) too distant to make actual conversation with, and b) in a relationship despite being your soulmate. Sweet-tempered Dongmin doesn’t even know it’s you. You’d love to be the bearer of bad news but this one—you’re not exactly ready for it yourself.

So that’s the explanation for why you hunted down Jaehyun and in a desperate attempt to not seem pathetic, coerced him into a role that has carefully picked benefits for either of you. You just have to bite the bullet sometimes.

“And I get what out of this?”

“Me? Temporarily, that is.”

Jaehyun laughs in amusement and you drop your smile, almost offended. If you were a gift, you’d certainly be an attractive, spicy, hot one—he doesn’t have to look at you so incredulously. In a neat business suit, Jaehyun is as kempt as ever though his tie could do with some more work.  As an HR assistant, his appearance pleases you. However as a person, the perfection annoys the hell out of you. He could show himself to be more human. It would make your job (both the actual and the metaphorical) easier.

“I’m leaving,” he announces with a nonchalant exhale. “You keep messing around during work hours like this and people are going to think you’re jobless.”

“Wait!” 

You jog up to him and block his path, crossing your arms as you huff at his indignance. 

“I said no,” he repeats, and when he tries to evade you, you push him back with your palm flat against his chest. Jaehyun doesn’t show any more discomfort than usual, biting the inside of his cheek.

“You haven’t found your soulmate, right?” you say, taking a deep breath. If you have to resort to psychological warfare, so be it.

His smile wavers and he straightens, no longer leaning against the printer desk. “No. How does that matter?”

“It matters because you’re going to be my pretend-soulmate. Now, don’t be a pussy.”

He opens his mouth and closes it, furrowing his eyebrows. “You can’t always trick me into doing what you want.”

“I’ll ask Doyoung if you say no.”

“See—enough with the tricks, they don’t work anymore. I’ve known you for two years.”

“I really will ask him.”

“Not convincing enough. You don’t even talk to Doyoung outside work.”

You groan into your hand, taking a few moments to come up with another plan. How is your obvious charisma not enough? You certainly can’t tell him how rejected you feel with the whole Dongmin situation even if his rejection hasn’t officially come yet. It’s too embarrassing for a grown adult to go through. You don’t mind being lonely for the rest of your life if you’re successful. There’s a price tag on each decision you make anyway.

“I’ll treat you to lunch every day. I’ll pay.”

You cross your arms, tapping your foot in anticipation. They say the way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. Besides, Jaehyun hates spending his lunch money on himself. This ought to do something.

Jaehyun places his hand in front of his mouth in mock surprise. “Oh no, out of your beloved paycheck? That’s kind of scary, honestly.”

“Jaehyun. Stop messing around. I’m being serious.”

He purses his lips, hesitation across his face. You don’t like the way he thinks, with quiet, lost eyes and no clear giveaways on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

You smile in relief though you try somewhat to not let it show on your face. 

“On one condition.”

Your eyes dart across his face, nothing that tells what he might suggest next. You hate when you don’t get to decide on things.

“You have to come visit my family next month and pose as my soulmate—”

“No way.”

“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.”

You stare at him, weighing the odds. 

“Fine,” you say finally, voice pitched in slight annoyance.

Jaehyun shrugs.

“But I tell my parents that I rejected you. Or they’ll come after you with a task force or something.”

You mutter the last part.

He grimaces, holding his breath for a good few seconds and then letting it go.

“Alright. It’s not like mine and your parents know each other—or will ever meet.”

“Fine then,” you say. “We have an agreement.”

“We have an agreement,” he repeats.

Now, back to more pressing matters. The people in front of you aren’t a stupid lot—even if you've seen Doyoung spend $500 on plush toys, seen Sicheng absentmindedly walk into a desk and pretend to not be in pain for the next five minutes and Soojin somehow convinced a senior to get her coffee because she thought he was an intern (in her defence, it worked). 

The only way is to act through. You clear your throat.

"We… we discovered it last week. Our signs match."

Technically, you drew an arrow with a permanent marker over Jaehyun's tattoo in an attempt to resemble yours. It's not awful, but perhaps not perfect. 

“Discovered? Like just happened to find out?” Doyoung asks.

“Isn’t Jaehyun’s on…” Soojin leans in to whisper hurriedly in your ear. “On his butt? Did you guys sleep together?”

You contort your face in disgust. “The what? What? Who told you that? And no.”

Soojin makes an ‘ah’ sound and leans back. “I should stop listening to office rumours then.”

"You should." You glare at her.

Sicheng is the only one without questions at the tip of his tongue but the look on his face worries you most. 

“I’ve never seen your tattoo, now that I think about it,” he muses, turning to Jaehyun. “Although we’re roommates.”

Jaehyun clears his throat, looking around with shifty eyes. "Why is… why is everyone looking so suspicious?"

"It's just… so sudden," Soojin says, looking around at the others.

"Yeah," Sicheng mutters.

"Soulmate fraud is a big deal too, you know that right?" Doyoung informs. "You could get put in jail."

You throw up your hands in exasperation. "Why would we pretend? We don't have any reason to. And, uh, you're sure about the jail thing?"

You look at Doyoung, hoping your question didn’t come off too squeaky. 

"You’re right,” he says, sighing. “It’s so unlikely for soulmates to work in the same company, let alone the same building.”

“Oh, yes, I’m so lucky,” you mutter under your breath.

Doyoung sighs. "Look, we're happy for you. It's just that… it's a little sudden."

"Literally what I just said," Soojin says.

"Literally what she just said," Doyoung agrees quickly, not wanting to pick a fight. Sometimes you wonder who the real boss is.

"Look, just because we don't even acknowledge each other or find each other remotely attractive or wouldn't even be each other's office Christmas card candidate—"

Jaehyun nudges your side with his elbow and gives you a look that seems a lot like "You're making it worse".

You clear your throat. "That's what happens to most soulmates! You think you're going to land the perfect one and boom. You get a chump from marketing."

Jaehyun makes a sound of protest. "I didn't want a snob from HR either."

The two of you glare at each other, and you find that clenching his jaw makes Jaehyun slightly (around 0.05%) more attractive, or at the very least more bearable to look at.

Doyoung gasps. "Okay, I get it. You're having adjustment issues. I know a guy for that. He's helped every newly found soulmate couple adjust with each other."

"We don't need that," you interrupt, offering your fakest smile.

"You do," Doyoung responds, his smile equally fake. "I'll drive you this weekend if you're free. He’ll give you one free session. No more, because we all know how capitalism works."

People have got to stop copying your fake smile. You wish you could have it copyrighted because after all, it’s the same smile that tricks interviewees into thinking they got the job. It’s not evil if you say it isn’t. You open your mouth, look at Jaehyun doing the same and when you can't come up with an excuse, give up and nod. 

"Don't look so resentful," Doyoung says, tone slightly complaining. "I'm not doing this as your boss. We were friends in college and I'm just doing you a favour. A friendly favour."

Soojin hums in deep thought. "I feel like this is some sort of nepotism."

"I feel like you should open a dictionary once in a while," Doyoung mutters, only to get a vaguely threatening look from Soojin.

"Anyway," Sicheng diverts, eyes curious when he turns to Doyoung. "Why did you call us here?"

"Ah." Doyoung's eyes widen. "I heard promotion rumours."

Sicheng lets out a loud huff of annoyance. "You summoned us here for company gossip?"

Doyoung crosses his arms. “So, you’re not interested?”

“Who said that?” Sicheng responds quickly, leaning in.

The five of you huddle closer in a circle, looking as conspicuous as a cult. 

“You guys know that Jinyoung’s leaving, right?” Doyoung starts.

Soojin gasps audibly only to get a smack on the arm from Doyoung. “Why’s he leaving? He's like employee of the month every month. ”

A few chuckles pass through the group at her discontentment from months of losing out on the title.

“I heard he found his soulmate. Lucky ass gets tax benefits too now,” Sicheng complains. “Why is he leaving?”

“Oh, look who’s interested in gossip now,” Soojin coos.

Sichengs turns red in the face and looks away, clearing his throat. “You’re gonna answer my question, Doyoung?”

“Oh! Right.” Doyoung looks up from a text. “He got rejected by his soulmate.”

Soojin covers her mouth this time when she gasps and you can’t say your jaw doesn’t drop as well. 

“Rejected? Like our picture-perfect Jinyoung got rejected?” you repeat, trying to process the information. “Please don’t tell me he decided to be an idiot and sign a mutual rejection.”

“No, he didn’t lose his senses,” Doyoung responds with a duh undertone. “He’s getting the compensation money.”

You sigh. “Man, I feel bad for him.”

Jaehyun hums in agreement. There’s a hush over the group and you feel fear rise in your chest. You don’t want to be rejected. You’ve seen how happy Dongmin looks with his girlfriend—he’d reject you in a heartbeat. Of course, you could just receive the compensation money from the one-sided rejection and get it over with but you refuse to. It hurts to not be wanted. It hurts to not be wanted by someone who’s supposed to want you. To be specific, it hurts your pride. Every time you see the damn arrowed heart on Dongmin’s wrist, which he tries so hard to cover with his watch, you feel like throwing up. You’re glad yours isn’t as easy to spot—resting right above your hip bone.

“Anyway, someone’s getting promoted to that HR specialist position.”

You gasp. “Is it me? It’s me, right?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and you elbow him. “What’s with you?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he says, shrugging. “Isn’t it stupid to get your hopes up over a rumour?”

Doyoung breathes out. “Wow, (name) really sucked the life out of you, Jaehyun.”

You glare at him when Soojin breaks into a fit of laughter. “You- you know what that- you know what that sounds like, right?”

Your face contorts into disgust and you shake your head. “Let’s be more professional, alright, Soojin?”

She clears her throat and straightens her clothes, like a teenager being reprimanded. “I’m your senior. It’s embarrassing when you say that to me.”

Jaehyun speaks up and turns to you. “I think lunch break is almost over.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So?”

“You’re forgetting something.” He smiles, dimples showing, but his eyes come off menacing.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You forgot about that stupid lunch promise. 

“Hey. Professional,” Soojin warns.

You groan and link your arm through Jaehyun’s, making him bite back a smile. What is it with men and getting weirdly happy about lunch?

“We’re gonna go get lunch,” you announce.

“Ooh, (name)’s ditching quality time with coworkers for dates now,” Soojin coos.

You roll your eyes and exit the office, stopping to wait in front of the elevator.

“I think that went well,” Jaehyun says, shrugging lightly.

“Shh. What if they hear us?”

“Do you think they’re X-men? We’re a long corridor and closed doors away.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Still…”

Jaehyun’s smug smile makes you want to smack it right off and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt this way with him. You swear he’s not as bad as some of the guys you’ve met but Jaehyun is simply annoying. An A grade nuisance. You can trust him though. If Soojin says he’s a reliable guy, you’ll believe her—she doesn’t bluff when it comes to seeing right through men, though she does have a tendency to believe stupid rumours.

“Your acting was shit though,” you snipe.

Jaehyun lets out a low sardonic laugh. “At least I was subtle when I was messing up.”

You cross your arms and huff. “You know what? You can take the next elevator ride.”

“Huh?”

You step into the elevator just as the doors open and quickly jam your finger to the close doors button. The look of betrayal on Jaehyun’s face is subtle but it’s enough to satisfy you. As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens—it’s very applicable to elevators. He can take the other one.

However, almost immediately after, the elevator doors open and you groan, opening your mouth to send a sarcastic congratulations to Jaehyun for pressing the button on time.

Your words hitch on your tongue. Dongmin greets the two of you with a smile, standing beside Jaehyun, who has his eyes averted from you.

“Hey,” Dongmin greets. “Congratulations. I heard the news.”

“Thanks,” you croak, clearing your throat with a bit of heat on your cheeks. Jaehyun looks like he might burst into a fit of laughter any moment and you shoot him a subtle glare.

“Where are you headed to?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m going to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria.”

“We’re also headed to the cafeteria,” Jaehyun declares, with a smile that’s almost devilish.

“No, we’re not,” you say quickly, making Dongmin raise an eyebrow. You hold back a groan. If only Dongmin weren’t raised to be the politest man you know and a little bit more of an asshole. 

You hum and turn to Jaehyun. “I told you about that new cafe. Remember, honey?”

Dongmin makes an ‘o’ with his mouth. “Nicknames, already? Ah, I’m so jealous. It must be great to get along with your soulmate.”

Oh, the sweet summer child that Dongmin is.

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “Oh, won’t it take too long, darling? We have—”

He makes a show of checking his Rolex, a gift he received from his superior that he spares no chance to flex.

“—Around ten minutes left.”

You hold back a groan and plaster on your smile. “Come on. Now is the best time.”

“That sounds like a load of—”

You elbow Jaehyun hard in the gut and a restrained sound dies in his throat, eyes widening in the sweet look of discomfort taking over his features. You smile triumphantly and turn to Dongmin with an immediate change of expression.

“I’ll see you in office later,” you say, bowing slightly.

Dongmin nods and gets off on the fifth floor. You watch in quiet relief as the elevator door closes and turn to your dear companion, irked.

“Did you have to do that?” Jaehyun asks, voice raspy with pain.

“You deserved it. Don’t you dare make this a bigger mess than it already is.”

“You came up with it.” Jaehyun straightens, finally. Apart from the few loose strands of his neatly parted hair, he doesn’t seem all that disgruntled.

“And we’re going to set some ground rules,” you declare, closing your arms.

Jaehyun straightens to his full height, the space between the two of you diminishing. 

"Okay," he agrees. "Then we both get a say in it. It's a contract, after all."

"Fine. First rule, no being weird around Dongmin."

Jaehyun chuckles. "I think you need to be more careful about that than I do."

You pat his cheek. "Focus. Just don't- don't be around him for too long."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "Why are you so uncomfortable around him? I thought you were doing this because you didn't want to reject him."

You glance away, feeling uncomfortable. "It doesn't matter. I just don't want him to know."

Jaehyun hums. "Fine. My turn. No calling me a chump."

Your cheeks puff up as you try to contain your laughter. "It bothered you that much, huh?"

Jaehyun furrows his brows. "No one's ever called me that before. It's always 'oh my god, he's so handsome, who is he?' or 'ooh, I might faint from how hot he is'."

You giggle. "Alright, handsome."

Jaehyun exhales, his puffed cheeks making him look like a resentful five year old instead of a grown man with a professional job. You pause before you get back on track.

“No nicknames,” you blurt. “It’s weird when you call me something endearing. And your flirting feels kind of threatening.”

“What do you mean, baby?”

“See! You’re doing it again.” You cross your arms at the look on his face; anything close to victorious over Jaehyun’s features is unbearable to you.

He raises his arms in exasperation. “How are we supposed to make this work if we act like we don’t care about each other. Guess why Doyoung’s taking us to couple therapy?”

You huff, slightly pissed off. “You’re saying it was my fault?”

“I’m saying we could have avoided that with better acting.”

“You think you’re so—”

The elevator door opens with a ding on the first floor and you turn to find a bunch of interns back from their lunch break. It would be much less of an awkward affair if you and Jaehyun weren’t well into each other’s personal spaces, noses almost touching and with a mutual glare which could be easily mistaken for a look of something more sensual. You jump away from Jaehyun and leave the elevator as fast as you can, feeling far too conscious of yourself. With long strides, you exit the corporate airs of the building to a sunny, fairly populous sidewalk. 

Jaehyun catches up to you, bending and trying to catch a glimpse of your face with an incredulous smile over his.

“Don’t say a word, Yoonoh.”

“Ooh, you’re saying my name now.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I find it plenty funny.”

“That’s because of your trash sense of humour.”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t look so smug.”

Mondays are the days that make you want to scream in agony, not Thursdays—though they are pretty high up on the worst days of the week list. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe pretending to be in love with someone you simply cannot be in love with is an awful idea. 

Soulmates don’t need to be in love with each other, you think to yourself. There’s plenty of soulmates who are just in it for the financial benefits; you can just pretend to be one of them. This dilemma is starting to fray your nerves and Jung Yoonoh, with his lax disposition and dimpled cheeks, is making it worse. And to top it off, you now have to take him to your favourite (kind of secret) cafe in the name of the lies that slipped your tongue. It was supposed to be a quiet comfort spot for you.

You blow a puff of air out and dismiss the thought. Comfort spots aren’t real anyway when you’re all grown. There’s bound to be a breach. 

However, you will not let the (lacking) romance department of your life get sorted out by someone who doesn’t even know you. Lady luck would be an acquaintance to you at most. If fate is a game of chance after all, you might as well be the one spinning the roulette. You look at Jaehyun, piecing together the perfect plan for this seemingly frivolous play-pretend. The game is in your hands now. 

You blink at the figure of Jung Yoonoh under February sunlight on a modestly busy sidewalk. It’s not something to be surprised at—however, the stark contrast in attire makes you stare longer than you intend to. Wearing a black graphic hoodie and pair of worn out jeans, Jaehyun looks about as casual as you can bear. It’s always weird to see coworkers out of formal clothing.

“Are you just going to stare at me till Doyoung comes and picks us up?” he asks. 

You roll your eyes. 

“You look nice,” he says, and you glance down at your outfit with a flush of heat over your cheeks. It’s just a short A-line skirt, stockings and a sweatshirt. This is as basic as you get. What’s worse is that his comment didn’t sound sarcastic.

“You- You look nice too. I guess.” Once in a while, you will say something extremely stupid and pretend it never happened. The frequency increases around Jaehyun for some damn reason.

“You guess? I’m pretty sure I look more than nice.”

“And how long did you look at yourself in the mirror and practise catchphrases this time?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn the shade of cherries and you press down your smile. You knew that time you caught him talking to himself in front of a car window would play to your advantage. 

“What’s that you’re holding?” you ask, eyeing the plastic bag he’s holding.

“Ginseng,” he answers, staring blankly at the cars passing by. “I heard the couples therapist is in his sixties so he might find it useful.”

“Oh, old people stuff,” you muse quietly. “That’s quite thoughtful of you.”

You should’ve brought something, you think for a moment before realizing that couples probably don’t give separate gifts. 

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

You shake your head. “Anyway, we might as well kill some time. Twenty questions. Let’s go.”

He laughs. “What are we, in college?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Don’t make us sound like we’re thirty. I bet you’re the kind of guy who has his retirement plan figured out.”

“Wrong,” he emphasizes, face leaning closer. 

“Fine. I’ll start the questions, you unsalted block of butter. How many relationships have you been in?”

Jaehyun opens his mouth and closes it, ears turning red. “That’s your first question?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m guessing it’s single digit and on the lower side.”

He rolls his eyes. “How many relationships have you been in?”

You shut your mouth. There’s a moment of silence, a breeze passing you by, carrying winter away in its arms to make room for spring. 

“Never found a relationship worth it,” you mutter, glancing away. 

Jaehyun hesitates before opening his mouth. “Me neither.”

“Good thing for us, eh? Love makes people crazy.”

Jaehyun faces you with a clipped smile. Never did you think Jaehyun from marketing would be relating to you on a personal matter.

“Oh, but I’ve had enough hookups and I can bet you’re mediocre at best in bed.” 

Jaehyun glares at you. “I am not and I can prove it to you.”

“Is that an invitation into your bed? No, thanks.”

He opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by the Hyundai Grandeur pulling up to the sidewalk and rolling down the driver window to reveal Doyoung. He looks as overworked as usual, but his eyes are more tired, a bit of makeup covering the dark circles. You’ve heard his soulmate is a makeup artist for an idol group and wonder how they even came to be. Does fate throw darts randomly and pick its choice?

“Get in. Quick,” Doyoung instructs. “I have to drop you off and head home. My family is visiting. I didn’t even get a warning and they think I’m in a gay relationship with Taeyong because we still have our friendship rings from college.”

You want to laugh and agree but Doyoung looks rather pissed off so you hold it in. The two of you do as told, getting in the backseat and shutting the doors in sync. The car smells rather leafy mingling with the scent of fresh clothes and you eye the jar dangling from the rear-view mirror. You open your mouth to ask what scent that is when Doyoung’s voice rings out.

“What’s that?” Doyoung signals to the bag with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun looks down. “Ginseng extract.”

“Oh, the gift pack?” Doyoung asks. 

Jaehyun nods and Doyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “If that’s for Mr. Lee, forget it. He hates gifts. Something about inward appreciation and shit.”

Jaehyun groans, massaging his forehead. “What do I do with this then? Is this guy a priest?”

“Give it to Doyoung,” you suggest. “His family’s visiting.”

You hear an audible hum of approval from the driver seat and turn to Jaehyun making a face of reluctance. Maybe he isn’t so magnanimous after all, you think smiling.

“You’re both quite tame today,” Doyoung remarks, just when the silence is starting to swallow the inside of the car. “Makes me wonder if you need Mr. Lee after all.”

“We actually don’t…” You shake your head. “We’re here and it’s free so why not?”

Jaehyun shoots you a questioning look. It’s not like you can cancel when you’re in Doyoung’s car and already on the way. You’ve known your boss long enough to know the wrong answer to his questions. You look outside at Seoul streets and sigh. 

Jaehyun looks at you, your focus elsewhere and wishes this would end already. He has no idea what overcame him to accept your ridiculous offer but he must be just as ridiculous. At the very least, he finds you quite lovely to look at—not that he’d ever admit it to you. The foundation to this weird bickering friendship (if he can call it that) would be ruined by that. His ego, however, has been boosted up a few notches from the fact that you called him for help. He looks outside the window, holding back a smile. It’s a sunny day.

The therapist, Mr. Lee’s office building is a fancy one with an even fancier lobby. Baby pink leather couches cushion your bum nicely as you wait for your appointment. The architecture is that of a corporate firm and you feel quite at home with the large glass walls by the revolving door. This therapist guy must be rich as hell. The receptionist wears a formal uniform; her blouse is light pink with a grey pencil skirt and you like the look of it. You wonder if asking her where she bought it is time-appropriate. More couples sit around you and you, unfortunately, have to scoot closer to Jaehyun as a result. You do not want to catch that disease they all have. Why are they even here for therapy if they’re smiling at each other in that sickly enamored way? 

Now that you’re here, you’re starting to feel that this arrangement was ill-decisive. You should’ve done a better job of acting. You wonder if you can get a refund for that college course on acting, pouting as the ticking wall clock gets on your nerves. Even the marble floors are pink; the walls are mahogany red and there’s a heart-shaped wall clock, and should you glance around more, you’re going to nauseate yourself. This guy certainly takes his job seriously—or just really likes pink-red themes.

A woman in her early thirties exits the elevator and announces your names, and you click your tongue at the fact that she used Jung for your surname. It sounds distasteful. 

You follow her, starting to get nervous. You really hope this Mr. Lee isn’t as good as Doyoung says he is. Your fraud falling apart within three days is too embarrassing a defeat, not to mention bordering on illegal if found out. What the fuck does the government care about broken hearts and beneficial relationships? It’s so nosy. You understand the financial situation in case of happily bonded soulmates but apart from that, there really shouldn’t be this much discrepancy in the name of love.

Love drives people crazy. You’d rather not lose your good sense in the name of something so inane. After all, money makes the world go around, not love. 

Restricting a gag at the deep red heart on the door, you push them open with Jaehyun to find an old man sitting on a similar baby pink couch as in the lobby. He gets up to greet the two of you, the wrinkles on his face deepening when he smiles. Despite everything, he has a sort of grace to him, the one that comes with growing old elegantly. An upbeat song plays on a record player attached to the wall, although at a very low volume, and the tune reminds you of Animal Crossing. 

“Doyoung told me about the two of you,” Mr. Lee says, gesturing at the two of you to sit down. “How long has it been since you found out?”

“Six days,” you answer at the same time Jaehyun answers, “Four days”.

The two of you look at each other.

“Four-Six days. We didn’t keep track.”

“Ah,” Mr. Lee says. “How do you propose to celebrate your anniversary?”

You hesitate opening your mouth and declaring that you don’t really need to do that crap. Mr. Lee notices your expression and breaks into gentle laughter. 

“I’m kidding. Anniversary dates don’t matter,” he laughs. “It’s okay to celebrate your 100-day on the wrong day. Don’t worry.”

You purse your lips. To your dismay, Jaehyun isn’t as bothered by the sickly pink environment and Mr. Lee’s relaxed demeanour.

“I have a hundred percent success rate,” Mr. Lee assures the two of you, looking directly at you.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you mutter under your breath and get a nudge from Jaehyun, who has his politest smile on.

You can’t believe Jaehyun has a better customer service mode than you do. If you didn’t know him, you’d be fooled into thinking he’s the nice guy character every office has. Unfortunately, that one goes to Dongmin. You hate getting stuck with nice guys (unless they offer financial stability).

“I think Doyoung might have been exaggerating,” Jaehyun explains calmly. “Whatever he told you.”

“He told me the two of you have a bickering problem. And staring at each other when the other isn’t looking.”

You cough. “That is not true. The staring part.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you. “I knew you were checking me out,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. “Keep dreaming, Jaehyun.”

Mr. Lee laughs. “Your bickering seems to be quite affectionate. I don’t know what that boy was worried about.”

You press your lips together into a thin smile, annoyed that anyone would ever describe your interaction with a man as affectionate. It makes you feel like an idiot. You were always better off alone—the universe was wrong to assign Dongmin to you. Maybe you needed to see the apparent love of your life clearly in love with someone else to snap you to reality.

“However, what is a playful lover’s fight in the beginning can turn into real fights.”

“Right,” you mutter. “It’s all fun and games in the beginning.”

“The two of you have almost no animosity—you’ve known each other before you discovered the soulmark, right?”

The two of you nod, having already reconciled yourselves to this session. It’s a one-time thing, you tell yourself. It will be over soon.

“The soulmate information shouldn’t influence the relationship you already had. If anything, it should be drawing you closer. First time awkwardness is common.”

He’s starting to sound a lot like your high school sex ed teacher. You get the idea to pretend to be sick and get out of this early.

“Company policy too,” Jaehyun mutters. “Unofficial company policy makes office romance out to be some sort of sacrilege.”

“You know, I was the CEO of your company so I do know the policies,” Mr. Lee says, smiling in the confident, reserved way senior citizens offering wisdom do. 

You choke on the water you were taking a sip of, a coughing fit overcoming you and Jaehyun hesitates before awkwardly patting your back.

“Huh? CEO? I’m sorry?” you manage. 

Mr. Lee lets out a loud, hearty laugh. “I stepped down two years ago.”

“That’s when I joined,” you and Jaehyun say at the same time.

Mr. Lee smiles at the two of you wordlessly. “I have an idea for the two of you. Why don’t you try turning your ‘I’s into ‘we’s? Do some activities together and when you talk about it, you’ll find yourself much closer.”

You narrow your eyes. “You know, Mr. Lee, I’m a little curious about your relation with the company—”

“My recommendations won’t help you get promotions faster.”

“Dammit.”

Jaehyun chuckles beside you but a glare from you turns it into a suppressed smile. The one thing that wouldn’t be a waste of time opened its door and closed it right back. 

“But you know how promotions work,” you press, leaning forward.

An alarm rings, so pleasant in tone that you know it’s a Samsung. Unfortunately, it’s the ugly flip model and you question Mr. Lee’s taste (and wealth).

“Oh, look, time’s up,” Mr. Lee announces, and you think you catch a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

Jaehyun springs up before his ears turn red, embarrassed by the gusto with which he himself got up and looks at you expectantly. You get up, sighing.

“Next time, Mr. Lee,” you warn. “I will get those details.”

“I charge by the hour.” He smiles.

“Stop threatening the therapist,” Jaehyun mutters to you, taking your arm and turning to leave.

“Oh, and,” Mr. Lee calls. “It’s always better to be honest than to pretend.”

You blink in surprise when Jaehyun tugs at your arm, bowing in thanks and leaving the room with you.

“Was it just me or did he see through us?” you whisper to Jaehyun.

He shakes his head, whispering back, “There’s no way he could tell. He’s probably referring to something else.”

“Like what?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

“Tell me, are you always so domineering towards strangers even?” he asks. “I just thought you liked to press my buttons because I’m easygoing.”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not as cool as you think you are, especially since you get so hot and bothered by me.”

“It’s just you,” he whispers earnestly and your pulse rises. “No one else.”

You cough to kill the awkward silence and walk faster to the elevator. Jaehyun follows at a leisurely pace and it’s never occurred to you before but the sound of someone’s footsteps can also be annoying, proof currently standing beside you.

The elevator doors open, and much to your appallment, a young couple happens to be full blown making out inside the elevator, hands where there certainly shouldn’t be in broad daylight. Jaehyun whips his face away, clearing his throat loud enough for the couple to detach themselves from each other and hurriedly exit, fixing their clothes on the way.

“So he wasn’t lying about the success rate,” Jaehyun states quietly, a look of resigned horror on his face.

You can’t even respond for a few moments, following him into the elevator and shaking your head to get rid of the thought that inevitably jams itself inside your head. It might have a point, however.

"Maybe we should kiss too," you think out loud.

Jaehyun stiffens, looking at you with wide, fearful eyes. "No."

"We have to kiss, we're dating!" You exclaim, hands on your hips.

"We're not actually—ah, whatever. It’s not worth bickering with you."

"Why? Afraid you'll fall in love with me?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, and you’re suddenly aware that your bickering keeps drawing you closer to each other, your faces nearer than you’d realized.

"If anything," he starts with a confident smile. "You better not fall in love with me."

"Oh, please. You're taking this way too seriously."

"You're the one that wants to kiss me."

Your cheeks heat up. "You're- I- That's not—argh, fuck you."

Jaehyun looks smug, and you have the unstoppable urge to punch it off his face. You take a deep breath. Violence is not the way, (name).

“If we were a few years younger, you’d be begging for mercy under me,” you seethe.

Jaehyun’s eyes shift over your face in confusion, ears burning bright red with each passing second. Before he can open his mouth, you let out a short yell.

“Not like that, you pervert,” you say, leaning away from him. 

“I didn’t even say anything. On an unrelated note, were you a delinquent in school?”

You roll your eyes. “Kind of. I had a temper and a sharp tongue.”

“And now you’re a people pleaser. That’s quite the development.”

You smack his shoulder. “You’re getting on my nerves, punk.”

He makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth before smiling. “You totally did the delinquent accent.”

“I’m guessing you were the shy, little boy who flushed red at conversations about kissing.”

Jaehyun clears his throat in annoyance. “I was not. I was quite popular in high school and college, you know?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s that face of yours.”

“Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

“Oh, look, we’re on the first floor.” You exit the elevator, leaving a puzzled Jaehyun to follow in stumbling steps.

“I don’t think Doyoung’s picking us up,” you state. “You take the bus? Or do you have a car to flex? I don’t ride in anything below a Tesla, unless it’s Doyoung because he’s technically my boss.”

“You’ll have to do with good old rented Hyundais,” he answers.

You exhale. Maybe he’s getting used to you. The bus stop is opposite the building, the structure squeaky clean and a bunch of people waiting on the seats. It’s a busy place and you wonder if the scammy-therapist-slash-your-former-ceo’s business has anything to do with that. You sit the first chance you get, shoulders pressed against Jaehyun’s for the lack of space and admiring the passing traffic. Seoul really just depends on the lenses you see through. Work days make the screen tinted grey and blue and you hate them often but some days, it’s good to experience those. Weekends are brighter, sunny and usually not with Jaehyun but he doesn’t really put a damper on them either.

You scan his side profile, a little envious when you realize that his confidence isn’t misplaced. You might have trained yourself to be more of a pleaser over the years but he’s the sort of person people come to like naturally. Moreover, his skin is perfect and his hair is always looking styled even in a mess. Fate and Life are partners in crime when it comes to being unfair.

Jaehyun turns to look at you and you snap your head to your lap, turning on your phone and staring at the homescreen for a good few seconds.

“Twenty questions,” Jaehyun announces. “Let’s play again. I’ll go first. Do you check me out when I walk away?”

“What is this, playing my own cards against me?” You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“So, yes or no?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter. “But it’s not the good kind of checking out. I’m checking out how terrible you look with your mess of a tie.”

Jaehyun laughs, the sound a hearty rumbling sort and you can’t help but smile back at that. It’s kind of cute when he laughs—the sound of it and the way his cheeks are dusted pink.

“My turn,” you say with a cheeky smile as you lean in to whisper. “Have you ever had a wet dream about me?”

Jaehyun chokes on air, coughing out the surprise as he stares at you dumfound. You stick the tip of your tongue out and throw him a wink, thoroughly enjoying this victory against him. It feels great to fluster someone like Jaehyun.

“No,” he says with clear emphasis. 

“Even the night you said I was so unbearably hot very loudly to Sicheng?”

Jaehyun leans back sighing, covering his face with his hand. “I was tipsy. And it was my first night out with coworkers. Give me a break.”

You giggle. “Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. There were worse incidents that night. An intern threw up on Doyoung’s shoes—I can’t even imagine the horror the poor girl experienced.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling through his hand. 

“Have you ever sent nudes?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He sighs. “Maybe. Have you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

He curls his lips. The answer seems to be no but you’re at least seventy percent sure he would be attracted to you in a world where your personality traits weren’t being nosy and annoying.

“Do you think you’re a good kisser?” Jaehyun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Definitely.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You cross your arms.

He shrugs, leaning in slightly as though flirting (if he had the audacity). “We could test that.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “What happened to no kissing in the contract?”

“It’s not officially there.”

You roll your eyes, glancing away. “You know, I’m starting to believe you were some sort of desperate fuckboy in college.”

“I- I was the hottest dude on campus and if we went to the same college, you would be pining after me. I literally had the Campus Prince title and girls would follow me to see me in class.”

He crosses his arms, a frown tugging down his lips.

“Ooh, Jung Yoonoh’s getting fired up,” you say in a monotonous voice. “Wonder how many girls you pulled with your chewed up fuckboy dialogue.”

Jaehyun scoffs but he clearly finds your accusations amusing, as hinted by his unbothered smile. He asks a question again.

“What’s more important to you—truth or happiness?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Jaehyun’s eyes are delicately curious, nothing too strong and even so, you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze.

“Huh?”

“Twenty questions. We were playing?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your hand. “I… I’d choose happiness, I think. I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Really?” He doesn’t look too hellbent on taking apart your answer so you breathe out. He’s starting to pry into you finally. “I think the truth will make you happier.”

“That’s not- that’s not always true.” You look away, hoping the quietness of your voice ends the conversation there. You don’t know how to talk about it—you never really have. You’ve ugly cried over the lack of your love life to a stranger after five shots of whiskey but you don’t think you can talk about things like this sober. You don’t even know why you answered. Jaehyun makes you feel oddly comfortable.

Jaehyun shrugs, getting up when the next bus halts in front. 

“What did you major in?” you ask, following him.

“Business,” he answers before thinking. “Kind of hated it. But I started out with IT and that was somehow worse.”

You gasp, taking a seat beside him on the bus. “I started with IT too! It was a nightmare. You took that Database Management course?”

Jaehyun smiles. “It was like the course equivalent of reading the back of a Wi-Fi Router.”

You laugh. Maybe he isn’t so different after all. 

“You know, you do look like a business major,” you hum, furrowing your brows as you pretend to scrutinise him.

“So, you’re indirectly saying I either look like a rich kid or a jackass.” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“They’re both the same thing.”

The laughter from the two of you makes an old woman behind you grunt in displeasure and the two of you apologize. It’s nice to talk like college kids again. The Seoul sunlight shines on Jaehyun’s face and you bite back a smile when his dimples appear. They aren’t all that bad. If you get along like this, there’s no reason to worry about fate and the universe and other superfluous things offered to you on a boring old ceramic plate. It’s a smooth ride.

Your eyes drift to Dongmin’s workspace instinctively and you shake your head. This is exactly why you were avoiding him and even started the entire fake relationship with Jaehyun. You’d choose fake dating a (good-looking) chump from management over embarrassment and possible heartbreak any day.

You groan internally before glancing again and find the desk empty. Surprised, you blink and turn only to scream at Dongmin’s figure behind you.

“Shh!” he says urgently. “Don’t move. And don’t panic when I say this but there’s a bug on your shoulder.”

“What the fuck? Get it off, please,” you say, voice choking up.

Dongmin rolls up a stack of papers and you let out a low screech. “Don’t kill it on my shoulder!”

“Sorry,” he says and your eyes soften as he gently pushes the paper against your shoulder and takes it away. You breathe a sigh of relief and he signs you a thumbs up as he wiggles the paper in the air outside the window. 

“You saved me,” you say, smiling.

He returns it, his most beloved eye smile making you wonder if you made the right choice. Wouldn’t it be fun to just crash everything and watch it burn? You know you want to. Benevolence and grace were never your style. However, it’s his smile again that stops you. Maybe you don’t really want to be the bad guy after all. You’re sparing him from confusion and dread.

You’re sparing yourself from rejection and inevitable loneliness (yay).

It’s been a week, discussing details with Jaehyun before the both of you collectively decided to just wing it and hope you’re not caught. After all, there’s no real way to prove you’re not soulmates if you’re careful enough (the same way you can’t prove someone’s cheating if they’re careful enough but that’s quite a depressing analogy). Perhaps if you renounce the soulmate benefits (and Dongmin didn’t smile as often at you), it would be less morally taxing. You, however, are greedy. When you want something, you’ll do anything to get it.

You stare at the computer screen and sigh, cross checking the employee records for incorrect data and your eyelids start to droop. Of all the days, you just had to be assigned the most boring task on a Friday. You also should’ve gotten sleep instead of getting mad at Jaehyun’s dry responses to your plan of action. It was perfectly viable; unnecessary, but perfect nonetheless.

Soojin rolls her chair backwards into yours. “We’re going drinking tonight. Wanna come? You can bring your boy-toy too.”

You roll your eyes. “As much as I’d love to call him that, he’s still the chump from marketing for me.”

“Or,” Soojin emphasizes. “Your actual soulmate. How lucky is it that you work in the same building, in the same company?”

“I’m not sure if you’re being ironic.” You scroll through the database with trained eyes.

“I’m not. A lot of soulmates don’t even get to see each other because of their line of work. It’s so tragic.”

You’d be glad if you didn’t get to see Dongmin ever too. But you’ll keep that to yourself. You hum in response and hear a sigh from behind you.

“Let’s have fun,” she whines. “Is Jaehyun that much of a downer? He’s one of the hottest dudes in the building. I thought you’d be cheery.”

You pause and think to yourself. She does have a point. You’re definitely supposed to look happier. Your soulmate has the looks of a model and fifteen year old you would fawn over him no doubt.

“It’s the work,” you answer. “I’m working overtime to compensate for my rent.”

You work overtime anyway because you hate heading home to an empty apartment. 

“Ah, you signed a new lease, right? Near Songpa?” Soojin looks at you with pity and pats your shoulder. “You know what? I’ll treat you to drinks tonight. You deserve a day off, missy.”

You smile. “Thanks, Soojin.”

“And,” she adds in a singsong voice. “The love of your life is here.”

You furrow your eyebrows before tilting your head and almost sighing in exasperation at the figure of Jung Yoonoh outside the glass door. He may not show it, but you know distress when you see it. You’ve seen enough squirming undergraduates at company interviews. 

You quickly get up from your seat, praying that he didn’t mess something up. However, you find it cute when he looks like this, the urge to fluster him even more presenting itself to be rather tempting.

“I think you have a sick obsession with me, Jaehyun.” You cross your arms after closing the door behind you.

He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment before taking your arm and pulling you away from the door. 

“Woah, this isn’t high school. You can’t just pull me into a corner to make out.”

Jaehyun’s ears flare hot red and he clears his throat. “You’re in high spirits today.”

You weren’t, actually. Somehow, teasing Jaehyun gives you the same rush as caffeine. You just love when the nonchalance on his face turns into discomposure.

“I came to give Doyoung these files. Or you, since you’re practically his assistant.”

You ignore his comment. “There’s clearly something else.”

“The team sports event is coming up,” Jaehyun starts, hesitating. “I’m not managing it this year. I have to participate.”

“So?”

“So Dongmin has a higher chance of finding us out. What if he sees my mark in the changing room and it all goes to shit?”

“Great! He’ll think you’re his soulmate and I’ll be spared from this nonsense.”

“I’m being serious. It’s already difficult living with Sicheng and having to change with my doors locked. It’s kind of suspicious.”

“Do you guys sleep naked with each other or what?”

“No, but I do sleep with my shirt off.”

“Ugh. Why would you give me that image?” you complain. The image isn’t bad per se but it’s not what you need right now.

“You clearly liked it,” he mutters. 

You furrow your eyebrows. “You’re not doing this just to give me a load of unnecessary anxiety, are you? Do you know how swamped with work I am?”

“No, of course not,” he answers, no indication of which question he answered. “Also, is there a reason Soojin’s glaring at me?”

You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s just the haven’t-warmed-up-to-coworker’s-new-boyfriend glare. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t seem too relieved but you have more anxious thoughts invading the privacy of your Friday evening. You have to keep up your composure. It could happen one way or another, perhaps in a situation better than a team sports activity, but you have to figure it out. You reject your soulmate anyway—the same way he would.

Glaring at Jaehyun one last time, you get back to your desk. Jaehyun looks at your receding figure and finds himself checking you out, the largest blow he’s taken to his dignity. He shakes his head, breathing in and out. This is so not like him. He’s supposed to be the suave, handsome guy who people can’t seem to get to and yet—yet, you do it so easily. It’s unfair. He swallows his heart and tells himself he’s too old to feel this way. He’ll just drown himself in work and pretend love is a commodity like everyone else with a corporate job is supposed to. 

“You know,” Soojin starts when you get back. “Jaehyun kind of looks high if you look at him long enough. Weed is illegal though but who knows? Maybe he’s a bad boy deep down after all.”

“Which rumour have you been paying attention to now?” You sigh deeply.

Soojin laughs. “It’s funny to hear everyone’s opinions. Even if most of them turn into scandalous tall tales.”

“Anyway,” she continues. “I’m clocking out. I’ll get Jaehyun to take you to the sake bar.”

You look at her, puzzled.

“You’re a matching set now,” she follows up and you groan.

“Don’t give me that cr—”

“Toodle-oo! Let’s have some fun before we’re grey and old, eh?”

You sigh and nod. Maybe you should look into a caffeine fix, even if it costs you a mental power outage at the end of the rush. It’s not like you to be so down on a Friday but alas, Fate is as miserable a woman as you are. The sake bar is starting to sound good.

Or, you could always watch a few ASMR cooking videos instead of staring blankly at the employee records. Either way, this Friday better improve by tonight.

“This is going great,” Soojin says, louder than she probably intended after her fourth shot.

“Of course it is,” you mutter. 

You haven’t yet had a chance to drink more because of two reasons: one) Soojin is hogging the alcohol and two) it would be embarrassing to get drunk in front of Jaehyun. Adding to your misery, Soojin has been gushing over her soulmate and the way she always makes breakfast for Soojin, listing off every single recipe she’s made. You would love to listen but you’re a tiny bit past your limit.

“Wooh, Jaehyun, you look hot,” Soojin whistles, in more of an older sister manner. “I can almost see your tattoo. Why don’t the two of you show us at the same time and we can take a commemorative picture?”

You cough loudly. “Mine’s on my waist, Soojin. I’m not ready to expose skin.”

“Right. Sorry.” She turns back at lightning speed to bother Dongmin with her stories, who smiles at her politely. It seems so genuine that you’re slightly enamored with it for a moment. There’s Jungwoo from marketing beside him, some more HR employees and thankfully, no interns. Doyoung is the only one partly miserable in the lot, talking into the phone for half an hour now. 

“Shit.” Jaehyun nudges you and whispers, “I forgot about the tattoo. This T-shirt makes it very visible.”

You look at him, alarmed. You fix his jacket, startling him, and pull the zipper all the way to his neck, making sure to backhand him on the chin.

“There.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“What do you want me to do about it? God, you’re like a child.”

“I’m like a—okay. Just cover my tattoo with foundation or something.”

“You think I carry around a whole bottle of foundation?”

Jaehyun blinks, deeming it safer to keep his mouth shut. 

“Okay. Fine. I have an idea. Come to the washroom with me.”

“Oh my, this isn’t your making out in the corner type of thing, right?”

You glare at him and he shuts up, following you quietly to the surprisingly clean restroom. The fact that it isn’t gendered makes you very glad. You make Jaehyun sit on the low enough basin counter and push your knee against it to balance yourself as you take out a permanent marker from your bag.

“I hope Doyoung doesn’t fire me for sneaking away,” you mutter angrily. “He didn’t even make me receive his calls all day.”

Jaehyun scoffs lightly. “Please, Doyoung adores you and your work ethic. He talks about it more than what I need to overhear. That and Taeyong’s detailed aquarium maintenance rules.”

“He does?”

Jaehyun clears his throat and you hold back bombing him with more questions till you’re done with painting an arrow into his tattoo.

“Isn’t it weird?” He looks at you with round, curious eyes. “Yours is a heart. Mine’s a pierced heart.”

“Hm. Funny coincidence.”

“Do you have to sit on my lap for this?”

“I’m not sitting on your lap,” you hiss. You are kind of close. You train your eyes on his collarbone as you pull his neckline down. 

It would be so embarrassing to be caught like this. You’d rather be caught making out with someone in the broom closet. You hold back a pained sigh. Jaehyun has some nerve speaking to you when you’re already annoyed with him. Couldn’t he just have worn his business attire? Why does he get to go home early? Taeyong is far too lenient a boss. You start swearing internally, getting nervous when you think about the consequences of your actions.

“Has anyone ever filed a complaint against you?” Jaehyun asks, and you nudge his chin upwards to draw the line on his tattoo.

“For what? Being perfect and successful?”

“For that attitude. The ‘take what I want’ attitude.”

You roll your eyes. “No. You’re saying it like I’m awful to the core for trying to take what I want. I haven’t got such a bad soul, you know, as souls go. You wouldn't write articles about how good a soul it is but… it’s well enough.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow and you avert your gaze from his eyes. This sort of proximity shouldn’t be bothering you, you shouldn’t be rambling.

The door opens right then and in a fit of panic, you do the unthinkable. You press your lips to Jaehyun’s and pray that whoever walked in has no idea who you are and more importantly, can’t see the permanent marker in your hand. 

“I’m so sorry!”

You know that voice. You half regret it when you hear it. Dongmin exits the bathroom as quickly as he entered and you pull away to look at the empty space. Beside you, Jaehyun stays so still that you forget he’s there for a moment. You breathe out in relief though part of you still feels a heavy ounce of regret.

You turn back to Jaehyun and find his doe eyes soft and lost in thought.

“I get it now,” Jaehyun whispers. “It must hurt. That he doesn’t care about the system.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That he’s so reckless about discarding you.”

You separate yourself from him further, standing up and brushing your clothes. “You’re overstepping.”

“Sorry,” he responds quietly. 

There’s a pause.

“Did you just kiss me right now?”

“Shut up. I didn’t want him to see us and especially this.” You wave the marker in front of his face.

“You just kissed me in a fit of panic. That’s the first time I’ve seen someone respond to panic this way.” Jaehyun looks a little too smug.

“What are you implying?” 

“You wanted to kiss me.”

You scoff. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” 

You want to knock the smile right off his face but you stick to flicking his forehead, his yell of surprise satisfying. This Friday night was supposed to get better. In fact, you are going to make it better if life won’t. The soju won’t drink itself and you deem that Soojin has had enough. 

Ignoring Dongmin’s confused look, you order far too many soju shots to be considered healthy. As you promised yourself, you are going to make this Friday better.

//

You just had to go and get drunk. Jaehyun stares at you, blinking slowly and wondering just how much you can embarrass yourself before it becomes a burden for him. He has to get you home; you’re practically a matching set now. But are the halves of a pair supposed to take care of the other when they get drunk?

“You know what, guys?” You announce, standing up abruptly and immediately getting pulled back to your seat by Jaehyun. It doesn’t stop your mouth however.

“I hate the stupid system,” you continue. “To tell the truth—”

He smacks his hand over your mouth. Jaehyun has had enough of the silent mini heart attacks you give him. The rest look at him with puzzled looks and he can’t even bring himself to give them a polite smile before dragging you out of the bar. The night breeze is cold enough—maybe it’ll sober you up.

"You're so annoying, Jaehyun," you mutter, massaging your forehead. "Did you know that?"

Or maybe it won’t.

"Never heard that before."

"How do you always keep to yourself and still be the center of attention?" You cling to his arm for balance. 

"Have you considered that maybe a polite man isn't as scheming as you think he is?"

You curl your lips. "Stop using big sentences. I hate that I barely know you, and I know everyone."

Jaehyun purses his lips. "You just enjoy the power that comes with figuring people out. Don't you?"

"Whatever you say. I want life to be a nice and smooth ride but then again, I can't even face my soulmate." You let out an airy laugh. "I didn't really need one though."

Jaehyun laughs in disbelief. "You look like you're dying of loneliness."

"Ooh, that's a big claim, Yoonoh."

"You say I keep to myself but what about you? You like hiding, don't you?"

You laugh. "Is this the part where I say we're nothing alike?"

He purses his lips, shaking his head in dismissal. He's just tired of chit-chat with someone who smells like she robbed a liquor store in Itaewon.

“You must think I’m some sort of selfish, vapid, work-obsessed overachiever,” you continue, tilting your head with a blank look in your eyes.

“Well, not exac—”

“But guess what? Your opinions are invalid, Jung Yoonoh. You’re just some chump from marketing. A very good-looking chump but still.”

Jaehyun swears under his breath as you fling your arms open in the same manner a speech-giving patriot fighting for freedom would. Unfortunately, the freedom struggle is private in this day and age, and you just smacked him in the nose instead.

You sigh deeply and he looks at you again, warily now as he holds his nose.

“You’re not exactly wrong either. I’m so empty. Like a bottle of soju with no soju. Could you bring me some?”

Jaehyun massages his temples and solidifies his resolve. He’s had enough stares from people on the sidewalk. With delicate concern, he holds you up with one arm around your waist, balancing your weight evenly so you can stand. Promptly, you bury your face into his neck and an embarrassing, high-pitched squeak evades the filter of his mouth. You’re just so adept at making his days (and nights) worse.

Jaehyun tries his best to carry you to the parking lot without any signs of struggle but good lord, are you uncooperative. Once he’s down lugging you to the passenger seat, he breathes out in relief at long last and makes sure you don’t fold in over yourself dozing off the seat. Getting you to sit up, he finds himself smiling the slightest bit at your smudged lipstick. Even like this, you’re quite pretty. 

Realizing what thought came over him, he shakes his head vigorously as if he’s committing a horrible crime. He just has to get you home—Soojin had texted him the address prior to the outing just in case—and then he can go back to pretending whatever he even is supposed to.

The sports event is really just HR and Management trying to one-up the other in a more quantitative way. You’re not really fond of the sweat and heavy breathing that comes with physical exertion if it’s for the sake of competition. Competition is such a childish, masculine way of handling things, especially emotions.

HR is leading in wins, however and that means you have something to rub in Jaehyun’s face. You hate participating but you’re not allowed to opt out without a medical certificate. At least one competition, and you had to choose the three-legged race. All these potential partners, and Dongmin had to choose you.

“I’ll win,” you tell Jaehyun, stopping by him once you exit the changing room. The indoor stadium is usually a recreational facility for senior employees but on sports day, it’s closer to a gladiator arena. The seats are green and occupied by grinning employees, most of them glad for a day off but also upset they don’t get to attend their personal affairs in it.

Jaehyun stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Shouldn’t it be a ‘we’? You need a partner. Oh, are you sad you can’t pick me?”

“Not at all.” You cross your arms, annoyed at his mock pity. 

Right then, Dongmin jogs up to you in a blue tracksuit. His hair sticks to his forehead because unlike you, he takes sports very seriously. Jaehyun, on the other hand, just seems to enjoy the competition. As a guilty pleasure, you’d like to see the two of them compete one day. That would be a competition worth betting on.

“I’ll have to borrow your soulmate.” Dongmin laughs. “The race is starting.”

Life strikes again with its poorly timed irony.

“Don’t mind me,” Jaehyun says politely.

The race is easier than you thought it would be considering most of the other employees struggle with teamwork. You’re the HR team for a reason. But then again, you feel a certain hollowness pervade you while you’re pressed to Dongmin’s side. Wouldn’t it be nice?

All you can think is that Dongmin and you are perfectly in sync. The realization comes off as sad despite your victory and the wide grins on both of your faces. 

Jaehyun purses his lips and gives the two of you a nonchalant look. He’s avoided getting caught in the changing room quite well. For some reason, he’s glad that you’re winning but also dissatisfied about it. He would certainly feel different if he were participating in that race, wouldn’t he? He would win. Losing a competition is a huge blow to his ego. Lately, he seems to be losing a lot of races. The two of you have been growing closer and he doesn’t mind late night discussions about flawed systems and childhood memories; but the fact that you’re growing on him is something for him to be on edge about. He’s never felt so close to someone, and still so far.

“Oh, they have good chemistry, don’t they?” Doyoung comments beside Jaehyun, before taking a sip from his bottle.

“What chemistry?” Jaehyun snaps and Doyoung almost chokes on the water.

“Chill out, man.” Doyoung eyes Jaehyun’s figure in concern. “She’s like officially yours.”

Jaehyun refuses in a series of sputtering responses. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not jealous. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I didn’t paint you as that kind of man either,” Doyoung mutters before speaking up. “But love, Jaehyun. Love’s a weird thing.”

Jaehyunn ignores his comment and walks down to the grounds, jogging up to you. He immediately forgets to say anything at all. Smooth move, Yoonoh.

You just stick out your tongue at him subtly.

“I told you we’d win,” you say.

Jaehyun crosses his arms. “Congratulations. I thought you, quote, hate this stupid competition for dunces.”

You clear your throat and Dongmin laughs beside you. Before he can offer his bottle, Jaehyun offers his own in a rush. You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it.

“You guys really are a perfect pair.” Dongmin laughs. “Sometimes I wish Mijoo was my soulmate.”

You give him a pitiful smile. There go your happy feelings of victory.

“But I’m happy this way.” Dongmin nudges your shoulder with his. “Don’t give me that look.”

That is not the look he thinks you were giving. You smile. 

“What about this? We can go on a double date! Those are fun, right?” Dongmin muses, crossing his arms.

“No,” you and Jaehyun refuse in a panic, and Dongmin blinks in confusion at the overwhelming response.

“I'm more of a homebody,” you explain.

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun agrees.

It makes Dongmin laugh aloud. “Oh, fate didn’t go wrong with the two of you.”

Your smile wavers. Did it go so wrong with you and Dongmin? Jaehyun’s hand brushes yours and you look at him. A perfect side profile and flushed hot cheeks with dimples to die for. You wouldn’t mind being in love with him. You don’t mind love much at all. 

Shaking off the thought, you watch as Dongmin leaves the two of you to run to the changing rooms. Eyeing Jaehyun’s red team sweatshirt with “Management” in big typography over the chest, you look back up to his face. 

“Why did you jog over here so desperately?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Yes. I am irreparably in love with you.”

He leans in quickly and you flinch, making his dimples show up.

“Asshole,” you curse. “I’ll file you for harassment. Don’t do that again.”

“Isn’t it harassment when you feel me up while you draw—” Jaehyun leans in to whisper. “—the soulmark?” 

“I would never have my hands near your greasy existence if I could,” you huff, scandalized. 

But the thing is, Jaehyun is getting better at this game of flustering each other and you don’t like it one bit.

“Hey, you know Dongmin’s girlfriend?” he asks suddenly. 

You nod. “Kind of. I’ve seen her pictures on Instagram.”

Jaehyun pauses before humming in realization.

You cough. “Not that I was stalking them or something. Obviously.”

Jaehyun gives you a knowing smile but doesn’t question anything, much to your aggravation. It would’ve been better if you had a chance to prove you weren’t stalking them but then again, that is exactly what you were doing.

“Well, we went to the same college. Same major too.”

“Are you serious? Wait, how do you know? Does this mean you stalked their Instagram too?”

“Too?”

“Shut up.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“She’s not exactly the evil homewrecker type,” he says.

“I know that,” you snap. If anything, you feel like the evil homewrecker even if Dongmin’s supposed to be your soulmate.

They’re so reckless. Jaehyun was right—you do blame them in a way. They don’t care who they trample under their nauseating parade of romance. But then again, that parade is better than a personal rejection.

“I’m just saying… don't hold it against them.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice, Jung Yoonoh.”

Jaehyun shrugs, dropping the issue. The preparations for the next race is starting and it has something to do with passing balls from basket to basket—you get bored already when you see Doyoung stretch before shaking hands with Taeyong.

“Wanna get ice-cream? We funded the food truck this year.” Jaehyun looks expectantly at you.

“Sure.” 

You contemplate holding his hand for a moment but let that thought bury itself. You don’t have to pretend right now. 

Much to your despair (or delight) however, Jaehyun takes your hand absentmindedly as he walks towards the exit. It’s not that you’ve never held hands before, it’s just that Jaehyun’s skin is soft against yours.

“I can’t believe you and Mijoo were in the same course.”

It seems she’s ahead of you in every direction you look to tread on. Of course, you will not be telling Jaehyun that. You don’t exactly feel jealousy—can’t feel jealousy when your life is perfect as it is. And for Jaehyun? You hate to admit it but you’d trade places with Mijoo any day.

“Well, she didn’t really like socializing back then so I didn’t know we were in the same program either.”

You chuckle, glancing down at your intertwined fingers despite your best efforts. It feels nice like this. It feels nice to be wanted by someone—even if it’s a lie.

“Do you think- Do you think they’re brave?” You ask. “They didn’t even hesitate to disregard the system.”

“I think people in love are always brave.”

You hum, looking down at your feet. All the more reason the system fucked up. You were never even supposed to be partnered up. You’re not brave—the face you put on is. The idea of love seems to get further and further away from you.

Just then, Jaehyun tugs at your hand, walking slightly faster and making you complain as you jog to catch up with his long strides. The food truck is fairly large, on the street outside to the stadium entrance. February is catching up with its heat and you curse at global warming for this hot winter day.

“You can take up to five scoops of different flavours,” he informs you, grinning sheepishly. “I guess the cups aren’t large enough for beyond that.”

“I didn’t know you were this passionate about ice-cream,” you say.

“Sicheng rubbed off on me.”

You laugh. IT must have given Sicheng enough stress to develop a sweet tooth. You love the HR Department when you look at the others in your company.

Jaehyun has a nice smile. You don’t know why you think that but you do and now you can’t focus on anything apart from the pink dust sprinkled over his cheeks and the handsome dimples that accompany. You don’t want to stare but clearly, Jaehyun must have been blessed by some divide being if not for fate. Maybe he’s a mess up like you. As far as you know, his soulmate doesn’t exist. That little red heart is so simple that none of the soulmate designs match it.

A rather repulsing part of you is happy about it. You like the feel of Jaehyun’s hands. You like the way he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind it if he were yours.  

Jaehyun’s house is as cosy as his mother makes you feel. It’s been a while since you’ve been home and if you were perhaps less emotionally constipated, you would have tears welling up in your eyes. There’s quite a few relatives too but then again, every Asian family jumps at the chance to celebrate something as mediocre as engagements and marriage and soulmate findings. Apparently, hormones are perfectly fine to them once you’re not teenagers anymore.

This isn’t so bad. What was so scary about meeting parents again? Jaehyun’s dad did challenge you with a questionnaire but lucky for you, you know exactly how interviews work. You’ve got enough information on Jaehyun from the man himself for this visit. The briefing he gave you was boring though; you already know what you need to know about Jaehyun.

You sit at the table, while most of the other guests work in the kitchen. Jaehyun’s mother asks you questions about your life, friendly and welcoming in every way possible. Mothers are truly god-sent. You wonder how she produced someone as far from divine as Jaehyun. (Except in looks, perhaps.)

You say that out loud and get a sharp quip from Jaehyun, his mother’s eyes lighting up at your childish interaction.

“Oh my, fate is never wrong!” She remarks with a wide smile. “I’ve never seen Jaehyun open up so much with anyone before. He was such a shy boy in school, you know? All the girls would send letters and confessions and he would just turn red in the face.”

“Mom.” He smiles all too sweet at her but you can see the panic in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes before turning to you. “Darling, you have no idea how proud I feel to see him this at ease. I was honestly getting tired of all the ‘your son is so polite and well-mannered’ comments. Some bickering ought to do him good.”

“Mom,” he repeats, straightening. “I think auntie needs some help setting up the table.”

“Don’t shoo me away yet. I have to tell (name) about the time you were elected class representative in middle school. And all those sports and acting awards.”

“You don’t have to advertise me, Mom,” he says, dropping his face into his hands to rub at his eyes, already growing tired. “I’m already- I’m already hers.”

His mother coos and apart from the expected deep red flush on Jaehyun’s skin, you find yourself feeling hot in the face too. Jaehyun’s aunt calls for his mother right then and you watch as she makes her way to the kitchen entrance, the two women glancing at you and giggling to each other over some shared words.

Jaehyun takes the opportunity to grab your hand and walk away to a more obscure part of the house upstairs. With significantly less relatives, it should be a good hiding spot unless discovered by his giggling cousins that he refuses to introduce you to. 

“Aw, what a shy baby,” you coo, smiling at the thought of a younger, easily-flustered Jaehyun.

His ears are bright red and you think that he’s still easily flustered. He just doesn’t show it much anymore—there’s only one dead giveaway.

“Forget everything my mom said,” he instructs. “It’s not important information.”

“Oh, no, darling. Your mother is a gold mine of vital information. You know what? I’m going to go chat her up right now. I’m sure you were quite the teenage dream I should know about.”

Jaehyun grips your wrist before you can escape, pulling your closer.

“Don’t.”

You don’t know if it’s the proximity or the fact that there are most definitely a few family members that could walk in right now—but you find yourself embarrassed as you look at his face. It’s very pleasant, handsome even, and the strands of his hair look irresistibly soft from this distance. You reach your hand out and brush the hair out of his eyes, almost instinctively. 

“You have nice eyes, Jaehyun,” you say out loud, not sure why. He doesn’t fluster this time but it makes you all the more aware of your nearness.

Your eyes glance at the bottom of the staircase to see a little girl, around nine, hiding from behind the wall that separates the dining room and the kitchen. You return your gaze to Jaehyun with a smirk.

"We should kiss right now. Your little cousin's watching."

Jaehyun looks mildly disgusted. "Why would I want to kiss you in front of my cousin?"

You roll your eyes. “You don't get it, do you? The fastest way to convince a family is through rumours.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot. Nosy cousins are the most effective way to spread rumours."

"Ah." Jaehyun looks enlightened enough for you to continue.

"Okay, but first you need to have these mints." You take out the emergency mints from your purse.

"What? I don't need mints. I have nice smelling breath.”

"Everyone needs mints, Jaehyun. Especially men."

Jaehyun sighs heavily. You take the opportunity to grab his wrist and pull him into a corner. 

"Have this mint or else."

You hold his face between your thumb and forefingers, cheeks squishing under the pressure as you force a mint in. He lets you do it for some reason, looking lost as he gazes at you. 

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh my, you're enjoying this. Pervert."

"Wha—what? You have to stop thinking you're hot shit, oh my god. I just got distracted for a bit."

"By me, right?"

"No! I just zoned ou—you're enjoying this."

You bite down your smile but a giggle escapes you anyway. Jaehyun rolls his eyes though he smiles, looking far too close to irresistible when his dimples show.

"You can't keep teasing me," he says, voice low.

"I've been doing it for two years. I'm pretty sure I can do it for at least two more."

Jaehyun scoffs, laughing at your statement. "You know what? I'm going to get back at you from now on. I've been so lenient."

You snort before pressing the back of your fingers to your nose. "You? You're going to get back at me? You’re good at lip service, Jaehyun."

“Huh. You might be right about that.”

There's a beat of silence and you look at him expectantly. In the next beat of your heart (or lack thereof), he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, surprising the life out of you as your back hits the wall. It's not just a touch either, his mouth moves over yours and when your knees feel weak, you reluctantly admit that the rumour about Jung Yoonoh being a good kisser is true. Maybe his body count isn't a lower-end single digit after all.

He pulls apart with a short smile tugging at his lips. "Satisfied?"

You sputter out a response before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think anyone really saw us in this corner.”

Jaehyun makes a low humming sound. “Or you could just say you want me to kiss you again? I know I’m a good kisser.”

“Fuck off.” You punch his chest, eliciting a quiet grunt from him.

You move away from him, peeking from behind the wall. Oh, she saw it alright. The giggling gives it away and the fact that a few more younger cousins have gathered. This is ridiculous. The fact that you wouldn’t mind more is even worse.

You turn back to Jaehyun with steel-set eyes. “No more kissing. Ever. Never again. Kissing is officially banned.”

Jaehyun looks perplexed. “I thought that was a good kiss. Did you not enjoy it? What do you mean no kissing?”

“And I take it back.” The heat on your face is still burning steadily. 

“Oh, I see. You liked it so much that you’re embarrassed.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So I’m right?”

You roll your eyes and quickly walk down the stairs, a few words of complaint left hanging in the air as Jaehyun follows behind, stumbling over the steps.

Jaehyun likes how comfortable this is. He doesn’t mind glaring daggers at each other but this is fun too. It’s like he doesn’t have to be careful about the lines he might be crossing—there aren’t any damn lines at all. He can’t call it love, at least not by definition, but something is there. Something that is solid enough and heavy enough. Something he would be ready to hold on to.

You laugh at a joke Jaehyun’s dad makes. A family is the only place to feel at home. It might not be yours but maybe at the end of the night, you can convince them to disown Jaehyun and adopt you as their child instead. His cousins seem to be interested in the same things you were as a high schooler and it surprised you. Your job lets you advise the older cousins in a fairly friendly fashion. The little ones seem to like your dress and you find them far too adorable with their pink cheeks and dimples, much like Jaehyun’s. Speaking of which, he definitely got them from his dad. You look around and wonder how Jaehyun has so many female cousins and not an inkling about how women work. 

It doesn’t hurt anymore that Dongmin discarded you so recklessly.

He’s wrong. Jaehyun’s wrong. It doesn’t hurt—didn’t hurt right now at the very least. When Jaehyun kissed you, you didn’t think of Dongmin or his girlfriend or anyone else. You thought that Jaehyun’s skin is somehow always the right temperature. 

You shake your head. Jaehyun drives your getaway car and you shouldn’t get too comfortable in its worn-out leather seats. This shouldn’t be any different to you; you aren’t supposed to find love in every corner. This was all a survival instinct. 

The more stories Jaehyun’s mother shares with you over dinner, the more you find it comfortable to be here. You don’t feel this welcome in your own apartment (although, there isn’t exactly anyone else living there but you and the goddamn pigeon that wakes you up at six in the morning). The more the night progresses, the more you want to believe in this lie. Jaehyun glances at you from time to time, his gaze neither uncomfortable nor harsh and you smile at him when he does. Right now, there is no loneliness and the air is warm and smells of freshly cooked food; the way familial love works is such a mystery. You feel content.

“Why are we doing this again?” you lean in and ask Jaehyun, eyes focused on the TV as he tries to fix it.

“Because I need to get out of work, and fulfilled soulmates get a day off on Valentine’s day.”

You nod. “Your apartment kind of stinks. I feel sorry for Sicheng.”

“This is clean,” he defends, pointing at the lack of any visible mess in his room. His work table, however, has too many items scattered over it to be called neat. There’s a fairly large TV attached to the wall and you’re a little jealous about it. You only ever watch shows on your (quite beloved albeit small) laptop. The blinds aren’t fully closed, the evening city lights trying their best to pry their pervasive fingers in and add something more to the peach hue of Jaehyun’s room.

The doorbell rings just in estimated time for food delivery, a sigh leaving your mouth along with a ‘finally’. His place is strangely comfortable and much less of the war zone that you expected. There’s no reason to feel awkward, really, or even the bubbling in your stomach. You’re not seventeen, in your crush’s house. Jaehyun isn’t even someone you like that way.

It’s just two friends hanging out and watching a movie and doing other friendly activities. Two friends hanging out on Valentine's day. Two friends who have kissed more than once.

What do lovers do anyway?

This thing with Jaehyun has turned into clandestine smiles at the office building, subtle texts of ‘did you eat?’ and ‘good morning, idiot’, racing hearts at brushing hands on the occasional off-work hangouts (you refuse to call them “dates”) and overall, a lot more pink hearts floating over his head when you see him. It’s positively appalling. 

You don’t mind it one bit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” The delivery man wishes as he leaves and you feel a sudden rage bubble up in you. 

“Ah, does he think every couple celebrates Valentine’s day? And just because we’re in the same apartment means we’re a couple? Wow.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “Who’s he to wish me?”

“Why… Why are you getting mad?” Jaehyun asks quietly, slightly confused.

You glare at him, your anger not quite dissipated and walk back into his room, placing the box of confectionaries on the bedside table with a loud thud. Jaehyun follows, placing the drinks rather clumsily beside it. He gives you one last look of concern before settling down on his bed.

You let out another huff of complaint.

"Does everything have to be heart-shaped?"

You stare at the nauseating display of baked goods delivered in a pretty heart-shaped box. The brownie is in a clear plastic box that has a tiny bouquet of hearts atop it, the coffee cups have heart stickers around the rim, and the pastry itself is heart-shaped or rather, two halves of a heart. One of them is strawberry pink and the other chocolate brown.

“You seem… suddenly fired up,” Jaehyun comments quietly.

You don’t really care if you look crazy to him right now; he’s already seen the worse parts of you. You’re just so annoyed at all this red and pink that was delivered. Aren’t cafes supposed to stick with that beige-cream palette? 

While you contemplate, Jaehyun tears the little sugar packet and attempts to open the lid of the cup at the same time, your blood pressure rising at the sight because you were half sure he’d spill the drink. After much difficulty, he shakes the packet trying to get just enough sugar but of course, like the clumsy oaf he is, he misses almost entirely, spilling sugar over his coffee table. It’s oddly endearing but that’s a thought you’ll keep to yourself.

He turns to you with a sheepish grin and you give him a look of distaste.

“You are a sorry excuse of a person, Jaehyun.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t mess this up.”

You turn to look him in the eyes, the honey shade alluring under warm apartment lights. They really are pretty. 

“I, and every other sane human being, would not mess up adding sugar to a cup of coffee.”

“You faltered for a moment there.”

That was not the reason you faltered. You roll your eyes and look away, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste.

“How do you even like Americanos? Don’t you like a bit of cream and sweetness?”

 “I don’t really care for bitterness,” he answers.

“Wow, you must be a masochist.”

“And it’s quite obvious you’re a sadist.”

You snicker. “That makes us quite the pair.”

“I would like that sentence in a non-BDSM context, thank you.”

Jaehyun turns on the TV and the Netflix logo animation pops up. You raise an eyebrow at his ‘Continue Watching’ list, eyeing Bridegerton and Sweet Home, and wondering if he could be any more of an enigma. You can’t possibly figure him out at this point. You groan when he picks a title.

“Ugh. Do we have to watch a romantic comedy?”

“What? They’re funny. And I thought you liked those 2000’s movies.”

You believed in unicorns and sock goblins and love back then too. These days, you hate to see other people in love, especially when it’s fake. The movies you loved are now the movies you hate. The couples you eyed with delight at parks and cafes are now the bane of your existence. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that you enjoy the digital fireworks from a couple having a massive online breakup. Things falling apart are entertaining when it’s not happening to you.

You purse your lips. Can't you see other people happy without wanting to tear it down for yourself?

“Fine. But I’ll pick the 2000’s romcom.”

Jaehyun shrugs and hands over the remote. You see Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds on the poster and click on it immediately. The Proposal has a good enough comedy to romance ratio, in your opinion.

“I’m kind of surprised you came,” he says quietly.

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “Is it because of the suggestive nature of visiting someone’s apartment on Valentine’s day? Did you think we’d be doing something… more fun?”

You lean in and bat your eyelashes suggestively, although you’re clearly joking.

“I think you should know better than to get mouthy with me,” he answers as he leans in further, making your heartbeat hike at the proximity. Maybe he’s figured you out. Wouldn’t it be so nice to figure each other out at the same time—like puzzle pieces fitting together?

You move away from him. “Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else. And I didn’t want to stay in my own apartment.”

“Maybe you enjoy my company?”

“Look, I would be sipping my coffee at a perfectly aesthetic cafe if it weren’t Valentine’s day.”

He raises an eyebrow at your nonsensical declaration and you sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Cafes just terrorize the single folk on Valentine’s day. You should always go with Netflix,” you say.

“And chill?”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“As I’ve told you so many times, I am not stupid.”

You inhale, an idea presenting itself.  

“Hey, since we’re technically a couple, shouldn’t you be sharing your Netflix password with me?” you ask, pressing your lips into your cutest smile.

“No.”

“You’re so stingy,” you mutter. It was worth a shot.

Jaehyun laughs, your hand reaching out to poke his dimples but you stop yourself. You weren’t supposed to get this comfortable. This wasn’t your place to be. Lost in thought, the moving screen leaves you unfazed and you can’t look at him anymore. However, Jaehyun reaches out right then and wipes at the space beside your lips, your focus lifting from the beginning scenes of The Proposal and latching onto Jaehyun’s lips.

There’s a pause, your head clearing itself of thoughts when you make eye contact with him. Soft hair, doe eyes, full lips and dimples—he’s so damn attractive, it hurts your existence. Does he have to be this close to you? You have mixed feelings about that look in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers suddenly.

“Yes,” you answer.

If you look from a rational point of view, you should not have said that. You should have said anything but that. But you don’t want to think right now. Jaehyun’s touch is warm over your skin as his hand rests under your jaw and the other on your waist.

You should not have said that. But you feel loved.

Somewhere along, you find yourself parting only to kiss again, the feeling of skin so delightful in a way you’ve never experienced. Your shirt hikes up and you see Jaehyun eye the little heart with the arrow—the sign you so despised with a gentle smile.

“It’s pretty,” he whispers.

It’s pretty but it isn’t his. He doesn’t have to look at you like that—he’s come a long way from nervous glances and now he’s the one making you nervous. Just say it isn’t love and it will be alright.

You part, sobering up for a moment and you disentangle your limbs to sit at the side of his bed.

“What’s- What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispers.

You exhale.

“All my life, I wait and when it comes, it’s all wrong,” you say, staring at your lap. Self-pity is the most disgusting kind of pity to feel. You’re past crying at things like this. You’re past crying for an ounce of romance, every time you listen to a love song on the radio or look at an Instagram post of a couple or pass by lovers on the sidewalk content with each other. You don’t even have cats to return home to. Modern loneliness is wearing you down but you can’t believe in fairytales anymore.

He scoffs, smiling bitterly. “I don’t even know if this is worth losing my dignity over.”

“Jaehyun—”

“We can’t pretend anymore—I can’t pretend anymore,” Jaehyun exhales. “I want you enough to forget the system. Give me an answer. Please.”

You don’t mind forgetting the system right now. Jaehyun’s lips are always the right temperature; the warmth of his body seeps through his shirt as you press yourself to him in a hug. He’s perfect and right now, you want to believe he’s perfect for you—even if he isn’t, you want to believe it into existence.

You cup Jaehyun’s cheeks, unsaid emotion in his doe eyes, and kiss him. This time, you mean it with every ounce of your being. There’s no more flustering each other, just the hot flush of intimacy when you feel skin that doesn’t burn you. It’s just the right feeling. There’s no way this can be wrong. 

Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You wish the voice would pipe down. It’s a coward, fearing fate just as everyone else does. But you are better than that, and this feeling is too enjoyable to let go. You don’t want this to fade.

Just then, Dongmin’s face comes to mind and you think that maybe if you kiss someone else with all you have, you don’t have to think of your shortcomings ever again.

Jaehyun pulls apart and you miss the warmth.

“You’re not… You’re not thinking of me, are you?” he asks. 

You don’t answer, even if the silence is overwhelming.

“I’d rather not have you close your eyes and think of someone else when I’m in front of you.”

“I’m sorry” is all you can say.

“You can at least pretend to love me.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Could. It’s not like this was ever supposed to work out.”

You gulp, looking away. “Jaehyun, come on. That’s not like you. We were- we were just… having fun.”

He takes a deep breath. “It hurts to not be wanted by someone you want. You know that. So why are you doing this to me?”

Because misery likes company.

“I’m sorry.”

It seems the phrase you barely uttered when you were younger is tumbling out of your lips in a mixture of grief and pity. Perhaps it’s karma. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps it’s just the consequences of your mistakes.

Jaehyun parts his lips, a sigh departing. He leans in again, pushing away all of his thoughts. A little more hurt won't kill him tonight. How and when did you bring him down to his knees?

However, he's stopped by your hands against his shoulders, his lips hovering over yours.

"Let's stop," you say. "You're right."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

You wish you could be brave enough to burn the instruction pamphlet from destiny. But right now, you need to get away from Jaehyun, away from any more misery business.

“I’ll get going,” you say, gathering your stuff. 

Jaehyun hesitates but doesn’t stop you. He would never stop you, can’t stop so how could he even dream of stopping fate? This can never work out. It felt right in the moment but you don’t know anything more than that. You can’t close your eyes and pray everything disappears. No one else will solve your problems for you, you know that.

It’s time you start fixing the mess you made. You leave with a polite goodbye and hear a loud sigh behind you once the door is closed. Blinking away the urge to walk back in, you take long and quick strides to the elevator. You’re going to fix this.

Maybe if Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’ wasn’t blasting at full volume at this stupid office party, you could be thinking a little straighter.

He was right. You can’t pretend anymore. There were thousands of ways this could have gone better. You didn’t have to pretend to be soulmates when you’re not. You could’ve discarded your belief in the whole system like Dongmin and Mijoo and dated someone out of spite. You didn’t have to drag Jaehyun into your sorry mess. You need to take out the nail you hammered into your own foot.

It’s the first time you’ve visited the rooftop restaurant from the company’s subsidiary chain of high-end restaurants but you imagined it would be bigger. It’s the news’ fault for making this place seem like a football field. However, you might be feeling that way because the distance between you and Jaehyun is suffocatingly small as is the distance with Dongmin. You don’t need to see Jaehyun tonight.

You don’t intend to make your confession a public affair and you certainly don’t believe in tack things like atonement. However, improvement begins with a step in the right direction. Maybe you’ll be a better person after this. Maybe you’ll still be as annoying and pushy as ever. You need to get it off your chest so you can proceed with the already tedious journey that comes with a soulmate rejection. You wonder why there’s so many man-made laws about soulmates when fate has made it complicated enough as it is. Love is the same as legalese when it comes to this system.

You flit about the crowds, smiling and greeting people and swerving away from Jaehyun every time he tries to approach you. You’re trying to make a good decision for once. He better not intrude. You’re wearing pink too, for the first time in a while: a satin shirt, pants and blazer set in dull pink.

“Dongmin,” you say, pulling him by the sleeve of his blue tux, and away from the rest of the HR team. “I have to show you something.”

“Hm? Show me?” He blinks at you. 

You get him to follow you to the inside the premises, stopping when you’re far into a 

“Uh?” Dongmin looks around before leaning in to whisper. “You’re not plotting to murder me, are you?”

You blink, and he laughs at you incredulously. “Why are you so serious?”

“I was lying,” you rush. “With Jaehyun. He’s not my soulmate. You are.”

Dongmin blinks in confusion. “Are… you joking? That was a weird joke but it could pass as funny—”

“Dongmin.”

You pull out your shirt from your pants, exposing the tattoo on your hip. It’s the little arrowed heart that has been plaguing you for years but now when you look at it, you feel no animosity. After all, it’s been through the same things you have. 

Dongmin’s face falls into stunned silence, eyes fixated on your waist.

“That’s- That’s my—what is this?”

Russian roulette is certainly not the same without a gun.

“I lied, Dongmin,” you answer, fixing your shirt back in. “I was so afraid of your rejection that I made an even larger fool of myself.”

His initial shock seems to have partly subsided.

“You… Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks momentarily hurt.

“You have Mijoo, Dongmin. I can’t ruin something like that.”

A love that doesn’t need fate to fix it.

Dongmin glances away in guilt and sighs, though the sound is croaky. This must be more than what he can take.

“I’m sorry,” he says, haltingly. “I hurt you, didn’t I? When I thought I was being brave, I hurt you instead.”

You smile bitterly. “We all hurt someone, Dongmin. I still have to fix that one for myself.”

He scans your face, lips trembling slightly as unspoken words die on them.

“We’ll tend to the legal stuff later, hm? No compensation. We can file a mutual rejection.”

“But—”

“Shh. I’m happy enough as coworkers and I get paid more than enough for this job. Might get a promotion soon too.”

You wink at him with an added finger gun, trying to play it cool. Despite everything, a weight feels lifted from your shoulders. Now that you are truly alone, you might as well embrace this growing loneliness crawling under your skin. Discomfort could be something you can get used to. 

When you get back to the warmly lit rooftop, the HR team looks at you curiously. You have the most self-destructive thought you’ve had in a while and tell yourself, you might as well if you've come this far. This is it. This is your social death. Honesty is the best policy, unfortunately.

“Dongmin and I have the same soulmate mark,” you announce. “We’re soulmates but we’ll sign a mutual rejection.”

Doyoung looks almost like he’ll faint and Soojin’s mouth is so wide open, you could practice throwing some mini basketballs in. This is your team—almost a second family, and it’s time you stop trying to hide yourself or disguise your feelings as something they’re not. They’ll get over it, as will you.

“J-Jaehyun?” Soojin looks to your side and you turn to find Jaehyun frowning.

“You could’ve discussed this with me,” he says, an odd sound of relief in his laugh. 

It hurts to look at him but you muster up your strength.

“I’m sorry,” you say, facing him. “I didn’t want to drag you into this hell with me.”

Into this loveless hell made for you.

“(name).”

It’s so painfully quiet in this corner; there are so many eyes on you and only the hurt taking shape in Jaehyun’s eyes knock some sense into you. 

“I’ll leave first,” you say, bowing as you take your leave.

You brisk up your pace and exit the venue as quickly as you can and into the building corridor.

Unfortunately for you, you recognize the pair of footsteps that follow you—both of them having their timings wrong. Boys don’t chase after the girl when she’s walking away. Boys should leave a girl alone when she feels like she’s about to cry.

You turn to face two men and groan internally. This is the worst possible situation—you’d rather crawl into a hole than look at either of them. The corporate light shines harshly on either of their faces but the look on them is so earnest, you want to close your eyes and scream. You don’t mind being alone. You were overstepping when you wished you weren’t.

“(name),” Dongmin starts. “I’m sorry it turned out this way. If you’d told me, we could have talked this out.”

A light scoff leaves Jaehyun and Dongmin purses his lips. It’s kind of funny watching both of their tall frames in hesitant postures and you cross your arms. You’re going to deal with this quickly like you always should have. If you’re dealing with fate, you need to have a clear head—and fortune doesn’t favour fools. Being with Jaehyun was nice but he is not yours. Dongmin may have been assigned to you but you’d rather not ruin someone’s relationship.

“What would we have talked about?” you ask. “Compensation charges? Apologies?”

You see a hint of positivity on Jaehyun’s face and turn to face him, frowning.

“And you. Don’t look so smug. You’re the reason I realized this crap. It hurts. Like hell.”

He opens his mouth but no words come when he’s far too taken aback. He can’t offer consolation now, not after everything. You knew this would happen. You would undoubtedly end up wishing you didn’t fall in love with him on the day you leave.

“(name). Listen to me,” Dongmin calls again, voice gentle.

Jaehyun sighs. “We’re both fucking this up, dude.”

Dongmin takes a sharp breath.

“You know, soulmates can be platonic,” he reasons, looking only at you. “People are made for each other differently and maybe you and I—”

“You’re just making her feel worse,” Jaehyun cuts him off.

“How do you know that?” Dongmin asks, finally turning to him. “Because you’ve spent a month or two with her? I’m her soulmate.”

“I think a month or two is much better than a stranger with the same damn birthmark.”

“Oh come on,” Dongmin scoffs. “The system exists for a reason.”

“I don’t give a shit about the system. The same as your girlfriend—oh, sorry, did you forget about her already?”

“It’s not like that.” Dongmin quietens. “We’ll figure something out.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. They’re worse than you are—honestly, you don’t know what you expected from the timid emotional maturity of men. Both of their polite facades have melted and you’re starting to miss their sweet-tempered work demeanour.

“Come with me,” Dongmin tells you.

He wraps his hand around your wrist and tugs, Jaehyun visibly tensing up at the gesture. He presses his tongue against his cheek in annoyance but refrains from doing anything rash. You feel sorry when you look at him.

“Dongmin,” you whisper. “Can we- can we have a moment?”

Dongmin nods in understanding and exits the hallway to cool off with a few splashes of water in the washroom.

“Would you go with him?” Jaehyun asks, jaw clenched. “An acquaintance as most? Are you willing to run into the arms of fate that you hated so much?”

He looks bitter and you can’t think of a sugar-coated response. You’ll just have to tell him how you feel.

“I need to sort things out, Jaehyun. This—”

You point from him to yourself.

“Couldn’t work out thanks to fate. Dongmin and I will never work out because he’s braver than I am. You know he’s doing all of that just so I don’t get hurt, right? He’s not suddenly in love with me.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, looking down to his feet. Is it so bad that he let jealousy get the best of his mouth? Envy isn’t so awful. He looks from your eyes to lips and wishes he were young enough to believe in fairytales.

“You don’t have to be brave,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be so brave to fall in love. You don’t have to be brave to stay with me.”

“We tried, Jaehyun. And we can’t cheat fate. That, at the very least, requires bravery.” 

You press your lips into a thin line. It hurts. It hurts so bad to look at him and face the consequences of this flawed design. It’s unfair. It’s unfair that you have to follow the rules even after trying your best to break them. 

“You wish you never met me, don’t you?” you whisper. “I made a mess.”

Before he responds, you bow in a short goodbye and walk towards the elevator. There’s no footsteps behind you, no Prince Charming. It’s just you and your high heels clacking against the cold marble as you head back to an empty home. You always thought freedom would feel different, that distance would give you perspective. It just feels awful when no one is around you at all. When you have no one to pick up morning calls from, receive texts from asking if you ate, spend time in peace without uttering a single word—are you free or are you lonely?

The rules state that the two of you are different. It is true. You are as different as love in real life and love in the movies; and neither of them have happy endings now.

You wish you drank some more last night if you were going to embarrass yourself like that. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you have two more days to figure out how to face your coworkers. You frown when you think of Jaehyun. Were you wrong to tell him that you simply couldn’t choose him? What if fate is right and it falls apart? You stir your morning coffee, the will to drink it fading slowly. It’s already fallen apart—and it wasn’t fate who did that, it was you. Should you have taken his stupidly warm hands and asked him to follow you? You don’t understand how it works at all.

Centuries of questioning what love is, poking and prodding at it like a lab sample, and there’s still no perfect answer. Love is blind. Love is cruel. Love is a fever. Love is temporary insanity. Love is acceptance. Love will set you free. There’s just too many variations. You can never tell if fate is meant to make it easier or worse. 

No one questions you at the office and you're not sure if you’re glad or aggravated. Only Doyoung shoots you a pitiful look which you brush off and immediately get into work. Embarrassment is only real if you acknowledge it. However, every time Dongmin tries to talk to you, you ask for space and even alone in your thoughts, you don’t get it. They just have to drift to Jaehyun.

You wonder if what he said was true, that he wanted you enough to forget the system. It’s clearly ruined now. The spiral of thinking has you zoning out during work more often than not and even Doyoung ends up reprimanding you for your lack of focus. Sometimes you want to snap but other times, you’re just hopelessly reciting the events over and over in your head. This was supposed to happen, wasn’t it? You don’t even have the strength left in you to blame it all on Jaehyun.

You pace in the corridors after work, contemplating popping by the Marketing Department. What could go wrong? Sure, it was a little dramatic of you to leave like that but everything can be fixed, right? You groan. What you were supposed to be fixing, you made worse. Are your hands cursed or something? You shake your head, returning to your desk to gather your belongings and head home.

Unfortunately, the sight of Doyoung sitting in your chair alarms you and you stop a foot away. 

“If you’re going to reprimand me for watching cat videos instead of checking the employee records, I can assure you my efficiency is still top-notch.” 

“You’re—what? Never mind.” Doyoung shakes his head. “Can you give this ginseng pack to Jaehyun? I owe him.” 

Oh no. You know where this is going.

“You know I’m going to keep that for myself, right?” You make a face. “I’d rather die than face Jaehyun right now.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one running to you. This is in case of an emergency.”

You give him a fake smile and Doyoung shakes his head. “Good to see you’re still great at pretending to be fine.”

You sigh. “Thanks for looking out for me, bossman.”

Doyoung blinks, hand covering his mouth when an audible gasp leaves him. “Woah. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you thank me. But don’t call me bossman ever again.”

“Noted,” you say, taking your bag and leaving with a short goodbye. You’re lucky he lets you off work early, even if you never took it. Employees usually can’t leave until their superiors does and if you were a senior employee, you’d be giving your juniors quite the hell.

You seem to be good at concocting hellscapes. Perhaps, you should look for job openings in the underworld. One last thought of Jaehyun exits your head and you take the bus home, admiring the city you live in and the warmth of people and their relationships. You don’t feel jealous; you just bask in them for the time—be it a mother and her son or two bickering sisters or a lovely old couple. That’s how it’s meant to be, then. That’s how love works.

Jaehyun smacks his head against the sofa armrest for the fifteenth time in a row.

“Dude. You’re going to permanently ruin the fabric.” Sicheng says, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

“I should’ve said something more.” Jaehyun’s voice is so zombie-like, he thinks he should cast himself in the Train to Busan sequel as an extra.

“I’m glad I’m not you,” Sicheng mutters.

“Can you give me some sort of consolation, at least?”

“That’s not what I’m your friend for.”

Jaehyun sighs and resumes smacking the back of his head against the armrest. He really needs to figure this out. After all, he can’t really Google the solution to this.

“One thing doesn’t make sense,” Sicheng says, finally looking up from his screen. “Why do you have the same mark as (name)’s if you’re not soulmates?”

“You’re so incredibly—but adorably—stupid, Sicheng. She drew it in with a permanent marker. She kissed me too! It was sudden and weird but I didn’t mind it.

“Yikes.” Sicheng makes a face. “So… you didn’t take a shower for how long now?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

“The ink hasn’t washed off. I heard you singing in the shower yesterday, how could you not have washed that off? Ugh. Don’t tell me you miss her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he jumps up and rushes to the washroom. Looking into the mirror, the tattoo poking out from his T-shirt resembles yours a lot more than his. The arrow is still drawn in. Jaehyun’s shoulder slumps. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Turning the tap and letting the water flow, he wets his hand and rubs at his collarbone to remove the arrow.

Except it doesn’t budge. His skin turns painfully red from the rubbing but the ink, which usually washes off in less than five minutes has no intention of leaving. Did you use a different brand of marker the last time? When was it anyway? 

Jaehyun breathes out, firming his resolve. He needs to be with you.

Sicheng blinks in surprise as Jaehyun grabs his car keys, not even bothering to change from an all-black getup of a T-shirt and jeans like some emo teenager, and shuts the front door behind him. Not even a ‘goodbye, I’m leaving!’

Sicheng sighs. Love makes people crazy. He’s not falling into that trap when his soulmate literally doesn’t exist, the same as his soulmark. It seems the contestants in this game are full of exceptions.

You hit your head against your pillow. To visit Jaehyun or not to. You haven’t left your bed since you woke up around seven in the morning, and now it’s ten. Your bedsheets are a mess because you’ve rolled around too much on them (in despair, not with someone unfortunately).

You need the quiet sometimes to let your mind rest, to let your heart rest. You needed time. But maybe it’s been long enough and now you’re just searching for excuses to hold on to your last shred of dignity.

You lift your head up and glare at the box of ginseng on your table. Should you? You reluctantly get up, feeling a sting of pain in your back for lying in that awkward position for so long. Right when you’ve put on your slippers, the doorbell rings and you groan. How did the package you stress-ordered last night arrive so early? These deliveries are getting faster and faster.

You walk to the front door and open it thoughtlessly, freezing up at the sight. Your first reaction is to cover yourself. You’re not exactly your best-looking version at the moment. Jaehyun’s dark circles almost match yours but he’s better dressed than you are—in a black T-shirt and jeans while you’re wearing a Gudetama pajama set.

“We’re not just friends,” he blurts. “We’re not soulmates but we’re not just friends.”

“Huh? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing I’ve looked.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in a question look. 

“That’s not important! Look—”

He pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. His hair is so disheveled and messy, he barely even looks like the same well-maintained marketing employee you know. 

Jaehyun tugs at his T-shirt, pulling down to reveal his tattoo—albeit with your marker-drawn arrow through it. He does have a pretty well-built chest, you note before chiding yourself for getting distracted.

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you, uh, need help scrubbing it off or something?”

“No.” Jaehyun lets out a huff of exasperation. “It won’t wash off. If it’s what I think it is—”

“Miracles don’t happen to people like us, Jaehyun,” you say quietly.

He gulps. “I don’t know about miracles but… I just needed an excuse to see you, I guess.”

You look up, a rose blush over Jaehyun’s bare face, and run your finger over the tattoo, sighing at the warmth of his skin. Your hand travels up to his cheek, resting atop it while you muster enough courage to look Jaehyun in his chocolate brown eyes.

You pull away. This isn’t the time. You still have an internal crisis to sort out. Are you even deserving of love? It makes much more sense if the answer is no. 

However, Jaehyun pulls you in by the waist, his right palm warm against your cheek.

“I don’t care what anyone says.” He runs his thumb over your cheek in a painfully fond manner. “You’re worth more than the price I pay for this.”

He leans in and presses his lips to yours swiftly, your head clearing of thoughts almost immediately. It feels so right, you can feel the spark, the red thread around your skin, hear the bells. This kiss was far more perfect than it was supposed to be.

You part, gasping. Jaehyun blinks at you, breathing heavily.

“Kiss me again.”

Jaehyun does as told and you might just believe in miracles this way. With his hand around your waist and in your hair, his lips over yours and the low rumbling laughter that parts the two of you—you might just believe in miracles. You might just believe that love isn't something you deserve by earning.

“I like this,” Jaehyun comments. “I like the way this is.”

You press your finger to his lips. “I think you should shut up and kiss me some more.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I know you’re sexually repressed as of now, but that’s no reason to take advantage of me.”

You scowl, punching him on the shoulder and moving away from him.

“Come back,” he complains in a quiet voice.

“I am not going to do that.” You cross your arms.

“Come on,” he mutters, inching closer as you inch away, till your back hits the couch and you tumble backwards onto it, your legs on the headrest. Jaehyun laughs at your position, leaning in to keep his hands on either side of you, a doting look over him.

“Hey, did you know if I kicked my leg up, it would hit you in the balls?”

“Please don’t do that.”

You giggle, Jaehyun’s nose rubbing against yours in a bunny kiss. 

“Is your place usually this much of a mess?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. 

You sigh heavily. “I was having a bad day, okay? Or… a bad weekend.”

“Do you even have food?”

You look away, crossing your arms. Jaehyun sighs and shakes his head.

“We should go grocery shopping. How do you live like this?”

You scoff. “Oh, spare me the lecture. I’ve heard enough horror stories about your room from Sicheng. You can’t hide from me by sweeping your clothes and belongings into his room.”

“Snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your mouth and you immediately cover it. Jaehyun smiles at you fondly and you look away, unable to bear that gaze of his.

“It really won’t wash off, by the way,” Jaehyun states, scratching at his collarbone.

You narrow your eyes, smacking his arms away to roll off the couch. Taking his wrist, you walk into your bathroom and turn the tap on. Something’s strange. But also strangely right.

“Look, I already tried—ow! Don’t rub that hard!”

You blink in confusion, trying again despite Jaehyun looking like his soul already left him. It doesn’t work. Your marker isn’t even that permanent. At least his regenerating skin cells should get rid of that arrow. Unless the ink was deep enough to pierce all the layers, as in a soulmark.

You gasp.

“You were right!”

“I told you s—”

"That's the point, isn't it?" you say, realization dawning as your eyes widen. "To see if people will question the system at all."

Jaehyun shrugs. “Maybe.”

"Oh, all those unhappy marriages that could have been saved," you say as you exhale. 

Jaehyun chuckles lightly. "I think that the point was, people can be happy without their soulmates. It's whoever you make one out of. Or I Googled too many articles on anti-soulmate propaganda."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. Watching his ears turn bright red is the cherry on top.

“Okay, fake-boyfriend-turned-real-soulmate.” You give him a cheeky smile. “Did you rethink your decision about sharing that Netflix password with me? I get the girlfriend free pass, right? Right?”

“I didn’t even share it with my mother.”

You whack his arm, him possibly used to it by now, judging from his lack of response. 

“Idiot.” You cross your arms. “We can Netflix… and chill then. God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Jaehyun breaks into a chuckle. “You’re so pushy.”

 “And you like being pushed around, nerd.”

“Who said that?”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, spinning you so that your back hits the door. He leans in to kiss you again and you smack your palm over his pouted lips. You laugh at his face, his eyes brimming with confusion.

“You’re in my apartment. I make the rules here. Think twice before you start a game with me, Mister.”

His shoulders droop. “Fine. Can you at least let me kiss you four times a day?”

“Five times, if you ask.”

He laughs before leaning in again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“You are one hell of a woman. Emphasis on hell.”

You laugh and grab his collar, pulling him in for the kiss that seals this deal.

You realize a few things in the moment: a) You don’t have to play roulette to find love, b) You don’t have to pick your poison to find love, and most importantly c) Love is right where you make something of it. Fate is still not in your good books but if it bends to you this way, you don’t mind at all. If Jaehyun kisses you like this every day, you don’t mind one bit. 

[jboofan]

Chances

YN's about to find out that sometimes a gorgeous man can come up with a plan all his own, and it's a given that it'll mess hers up.

Jungkook x YN

Masterlist Chapter 5

YN sipped her coffee and stared out the window watching folk go about their business. She closed her eyes and listened to the ambiance; the sound of the register, a customer placing an order, whilst another had theirs called out.

Colours flowed across her eyes. This cafe always showed her shades of yellow and orange. Sometimes green depending on the tone used. Synesthesia had its perks, just listening to the barista's tone let's YN see colours.

YN smiled to herself. Being able to see colours, or see sounds was the best thing that ever happened to her. As a child she always felt alien to her friends, scared she would be judged so she hid it. Hid it and pretended to be like everyone else, got through school not telling anyone until her father found out. And all she had done was feel pressured by him, or that she had let him down.

A little dazed, she stared into space only until her phone pinged.

"Seriously dad just leave me alone," she ground out. It was just a text, but he never wanted to meet up. Not that she was unhappy. She saw him so much at work that a little distance really was good for her soul. Firing off several texts and no doubt pissing him off in the process, YN went back to her coffee feeling a little guilt.

Several gulps later and it vibrated again. "He said he was on the way, what is it now?"

It was JK and he was on a roll.

"Is he for real," she mumbled to herself as JK texted her. Before she knew it, her coffee was cold, croissant had started to go stale and she still couldn't get him to stop texting!

"YN," her father repeated again.

"Yeah?" YN answered a little distracted by the barrage of self pity that Jungkook was expressing.

"We need to talk about your contract."

"HR will be in touch like they do everyone else, so we can talk then."

"YN, you know you're not just anyone. Besides, I told them I'll be handling this personally."

"Way to draw attention to me dad," she sighed.

"So what if it does? YN you are talented. Yes we don't see eye to eye, but professionally speaking this makes sense. Your mother also agrees. You sing beautifully, and write with such emotion you could make a stone cry. You know you are a great producer. And don't say you don't use your condition to your advantage. The best producers the world has ever had have your condition. Timberland, Mary J Blige, Stevie Wonder, Pharrell Williams," he continued to name several more, "all have the same condition as you and use it to their advantage. If anything it's only going to help your singing."

He gulped his coffee again, and she noticed how his hand shook slightly.

"You need to lay off the coffee," she looked out the window again nonchalantly. "And don't lie and say you're fine. I saw your last check up. You're over weight and not by just a little. You don't exercise and you are stuck in your office all day."

Bang couldn't help but smile. "Well since we're sharing, and don't think I can't tell when you change a subject; your week off has done you good. But it's been your only week off in three years. In over a thousand days you have taken barely seven for yourself. I know for a fact you spend all your time in the studio—"

"Producing songs for your company—"

"Our company," he cut in. "And you don't eat properly. You are not sleeping properly - which I know for a fact."

"So what are you saying dad," YN moved her headphones aside and looked directly at him.

"I'm saying, thanks to you the boys are going to perform at the AMAs. I want you to go to LA too. Choreograph their performance—"

"That's Sung's job—"

"He is working with TXT and Zico has a comeback," he countered. "So he is gonna be there, but he wants you to help. He's spread thin lately so I want you to be there to support."

He watched her jaw tense - even as a child she hated to be told what to do.

"And as appreciation," he drained the coffee cup, "take another week off, fully paid to chill out. I'm sure you've got lots of friends in LA that would love to see you. And then fly back and we can see where we stand."

Her phone pinged again.

"You're in demand," he saw her screen light up again.

"It does seem that way," YN looked back at the last set of messages. Jeon Jungkook did not sound good.

"So what you reckon? Sort their side of the Coldplay song, take a week off and then come back and we need to finalise your contract."

"And what if I don't want to stay?" she typed something quickly back to JK.

Are you drunk?

"I'm hoping that's not the case," he sighed, "I believe in you. I just wish you would too." Bang tapped the table a few times and pulled his jacket on. "When you come back, I'm expecting you to sign your new contract. As an artist with us."

YN looked at him a little shocked. She hadn't expected him to say something as nice as that.

Stiff, she nodded. "I'll think about it."

"Good, cos the company karaoke is tomorrow and I expect you to be present and engage."

"Always something in the small print," she shook her head, "not that I'm surprised."

"You're a Bang," he chuckled, "you might get your looks and some of your personality from your mother, but remember that you get your business brain from me."

Suddenly her phone stopped notifying her of any new messages. Looking down to confirm that notion, Bang was already in his jacket and ready to leave.

"Do you want me to drop you off anywhere?"

If he was being civil, then she could too.

"Actually I need to catch up with someone real quick."

Bang was intrigued, "you do?" It wasn't like her to keep social engagements.

**

By the time she had walked her father to his car and crossed the road the wind had already started to pick up. Scolding herself for having left without a coat, hugging herself she crossed over the road. YN made a mental note to text Jungkook later, and to flag down a taxi and get out of the cold quick as she could.

Her heels tapped the ground causing JK to momentarily propel his memories back to when YN entered their meeting.

He'd already told himself he was an idiot for continuing to drink at their table and then text her. But in this moment, more than anything he wished for someone to scoop him up and take him away.

**

YN continued to walk down the busy street towards the taxi stand. The closer she neared, she was sure she heard familiar voices. A little up ahead stood what looked like Yoongi and his stylist girlfriend, and the remainder of the group. With his back to her, looking forlorn stood JK, hands in pockets, looking down at his shoes.

"Hey! Is that Producer YN?" RM noticed her come into view.

"Ah, hello Kim Ssi," she nodded slightly to all. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We just had some lunch. How about you?" Hope zipped his jacket up.

"Coffee meeting," she pointed a finger in the direction of the café before turning to Jungkook.

Too embarrassed to meet her eyes, he looked just past her ear, the wind pushing strands of blonde hair around her shoulder. YN saw him move slightly away from the rest of the group, as though an invisible wall had been erected between them and him.

She sighed again and was just about to offer him a fake excuse to leave when she felt his warm hand extend across the space between them and hold hers.

"This is my girlfriend, YN."

JK swore he watched her often expressionless eyes turn a fiery red for a minute, and if she could shoot lasers at him from them, she would have.

"What—" she squeezed his hand as tight as she could, watching him grow shocked at her unusually strong grip.

"They kept asking me, and I couldn't keep it in, so I figured if I told them they would stop," JK pleaded with his eyes, a thousand apologies and as soon as he explained himself; because he knew he would need to do that as soon as he could, away from them he would get down on his knees and beg for his life.

"Oh god it makes sense now! The music, and how normal you guys are with eachother," Taehyung grinned, "you guys congrats!"

Speechless YN stood there, hand in his; brain having completely shut down.

"You guys look great together," Yoongi genuinely looked happy, and when So-Min seconded that, YN felt his hand go limp.

"Thank you," YN managed, "I didn't know you guys had been on his case, and it's still early days.." she looked back at JK mentally hitting him over the head with a blunt object as he mouthed I'm so sorry to her.

"Here," he took off his jacket and tucked it over her shoulders.

As thankful as YN was for the warmth of a coat, she couldn't help but snarl at him as soon as he was within earshot.

Still shocked she heard JK bid everyone goodbye on their behalf and holding her hand they continued to walk up the road together.

"YN—" he said, not daring to stop walking, or turn to face her, "I can explain."

He winced as she squeezed his hand ferociously.

"Please say something."

YN waited until they were at the taxi stand. "I'm thinking about where to hide your dead body. Going to jail is now on my bucket list."

[the-fandomwriter]

In your last post you said “Your New Boyfriend” was playing in your head during a test and honestly, same. Funny thing is that I see lots of people complaining about school because they keep missing streams, and I’m just here manically laughing ‘cause I’m homeschooled and am allowed to blast your new boyfriend during tests and watch streams while doing homework MWAHAHAHAHA (and they said school is better)

first off i’m so incredibly jealous???? my home room teacher is a piss baby and won’t let us use our phones or listen to music during our built in study hall (i’m in hr w him rn but i go on my phone anyway bc i can’t go 40mins doing nothing lmao) and i’ve had it stuck in my head all fucking day oh my god ahhhh

it’s such a catchy song i literally hear one second of the chorus and i’ll be humming it for the next three hours ahahahha and that test went horribly bc wilburs stupidly pretty voice was stuck in my head on repeat for the entire hour ahhhhhh

i’m so very jealous of you, anon grr

[shera-dnd]

A Day at a Time - Flirtation

I have a feeling y’all are gonna appreciate this one just from the title

Have some quality glitra content as we start making our way to angst glitradora end game

Also with a link to AO3 for those who prefer to read it over there

Catra had accepted the fact that Melog was trying to kill her at this point, because once more the little bastard dragged her through the building and straight to one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen, just so she could die of embarrassment.

“I’m fine.” Catra answered, trying to keep her cool considering everything that's happening right now. “My cat just decided to be a little bastard today.”

“You sure you don’t want any help?” The woman insisted. “I could hold your groceries for you, or your cat!” And as if he had somehow understood what had been said, Melog ran for the other woman and tried to climb her. She calmly picked him up, smiling at him as she did so. “Looks like they made the choice for you!”

Catra sighed, not wanting to bother yet another neighbour. “Thanks.” 

“So I’ve seen you around a lot,” She commented as she followed Catra back to her apartment. “Don’t think we ever talked though.”

“Yeah I didn’t want to bother you.” Catra shrugged. “You look pretty exhausted most of the time.”

“A shitty office job does that to you.” She commented, “And just a ‘hello’ every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” That would certainly make their random meetings in the hallway a lot less awkward. “I’m Catra by the way.”

“Glimmer,” She answered with a smile. “ Pleasure to meet you!”

Catra questioned what goes through a person’s mind to name their kid ‘Glimmer’, but the girl’s trans pride flower tattoo on her arm made it clear her parents probably had nothing to do with that name. That was not the only tattoo adorning her, as Glimmer’s body was almost entirely covered in them.

“And what is this little cutie’s name?” Glimmer asked as she petted the little creature, earning a pleased purr from Melog.

“Don’t encourage him,” Catra complained. “And his name is Melog.”

“I’m sure Melog just wanted to stretch his legs.” She commented, “Maybe he thought you needed to meet new people!”

“He could do that without making me run around like an idiot and annoy the neighbors.” Catra shot a death glare at her pet, who seemed completely unbothered.

“Well, I’m not annoyed.” Glimmer replied, defending the little cat. “He did give me an excuse to talk to a pretty girl.”

“What?” Catra did not expect that. Nor did she expect Melog to jump off of Glimmer’s arms and run back to his napping spot. She had been so distracted she hadn’t even noticed they arrived. “Thanks for the help.”

“No worries.” Glimmer waved off. Both of them stood in the corridor for a moment, waiting to see if the other would say anything. “I think I should get going.”

“Yeah… Wait!” Catra ran into her apartment, grabbed a little post it note and wrote on it quickly. She turned back to hand it to Glimmer, but she stopped herself and added a little smiling cat face to the note before doing so. “Here! It’s my phone number.”

“Oh just like that?” It was Glimmer’s turn to be surprised. “Not gonna keep your distance from the ‘weird pink bitch’?” 

“You seem nice and Melog likes you, so you can’t be a bad person.” Catra shrugged.

“‘Can’t be a bad person?’” Glimmer repeated and Catra worried it didn’t exactly come off as a compliment, but the ‘weird pink bitch’ smiled and answered “Thanks, Catra. Talk to you later.”

And with a smile and a wave, she was gone.

~~~

Unlike Catra, Glimmer hadn’t wasted a single second and started her just a few minutes later. Thankfully, baking required a lot of waiting, so she had plenty of time to just talk to her. ‘Hey, Glimmer’ she wrote, but hesitated before sending. Thinking back to the girl’s tattoos, she decided to change that text a bit. “Hey, Sparkles” much better.

“Is this about the star tattoos? Because if it is I’ll fight you.” Catra chuckled when she read that message. She would make fun of how feisty Glimmer was being, but she remembered she had said something similar to Adora the other day.

“You know where I live, Sparkles.” Catra sent, challenging Glimmer. The response took a while as the three dots kept showing up, disappearing and then showing up again.

“I won’t fight you, but only because I don’t want Melog to think I’m mean.” That earned a laugh from Catra.

“I’ll let him know that the weird pink bitch is a nice person.” She joked, but then got a little curious. “Where did that come from by the way?”

“You can thank my coworkers for that one.” Catra suspected something like that, but did raise another question.

“How the hell are you keeping an office job with multicolored hair and tattoos?” This was all relevant information in case Catra ever had to take an office job.

“They wanted to get rid of me, but there were no real rules about colorful hair and I dared their asses to fire the only queer woman working there because they didn’t like her look. Would love to see them trying to recover from that HR disaster.” Apparently Glimmer had a very ‘Fuck you. Fight me’ attitude about everything. “Also they don’t know about the tattoos, so I trust you to keep that secret.” She added, with a little winky face at the end.

She was halfway through writing a witty remark when her line of thought was interrupted by the smell of burning bread. She dropped her phone on the kitchen counter and scrambled to save what was left of her attempt at baking.

~~~

Friday night at the bar was going unusually slow. Catra wasn’t exactly worried about it, she was smart enough to save up some extra money in case she got too many slow shifts. Still, it wasn’t like anything could really bring her mood down right now.

These past two weeks talking to Glimmer and Adora every day had done wonders to improve her disposition, to the point even her boss noticed. Hordak found it all extremely suspicious as he had never been Catra this genuinely happy when she wasn’t up to something. Catra couldn’t exactly blame him for assuming shit, but it was still very rude.

It’s not like Catra was ever planning to introduce the two of them to her boss just to prove him wrong, but it looked like the universe had other plans, because she could see a familiar face approaching the counter.

“Hey, Sparkles.” Catra greeted. “Didn’t expect to see you here. You stalking me or something?” She joked.

“I guess it was a lucky accident.” Glimmer answered, with a strained smile, before taking a seat. “First lucky thing to happen to me today.”

“Shitty day at work?” She guessed.

“Worse,” She answered, pulling up the sleeves of her work clothes, revealing the myriad of tattoos that covered her arm. “My boss found the bar I like to relax at and I’m so not getting drunk in the same room as the asshole that’s been trying to fire me.”

“And this is what? The least shady bar you’ve found all night?” Glimmer nodded “Well, you’re in good hands now and I promise not to use any of your drunk ramblings against you in the future.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” She asked, earning Catra’s most innocent look. It wasn’t very convincing.

“I wonder,” She started, playfully “Do you get even more fighty when you’re drunk or are you one of those, ‘You know I’ve always thought of you as a friend’ kind of drunks?”

“Sorry, but I’m only planning on getting a little tipsy.” She explained, “And I’m a flirty drunk, thank you very much.”

“Damn it.” Catra faked annoyance. “Looks like I’m not finding out what that looks like.”

“Maybe some other time.” Glimmer offered.

“But now that you’re not flirting and you’re not gonna start an argument with someone, what are you going to do to pass the time?”

“Very funny.” Glimmer rolled her eyes. “I think I’m gonna relax with a friend and enjoy some good music. Mind making me a Bright Moon?”

“Ugh looks like you share my boss’s awful taste in music.” Catra complained as she started making her drink.

“What is wrong with Fright Zone? Their music is great!”

“Yeah. If you like listening to a sad emo boy groaning about losing his girlfriend.” Catra countered, having heard most their songs more times than she’d like.

“Okay fine, the lyrics aren’t all that great” She admitted “I could try to find something you and your boss would like. Maybe something by Sadie Killer or The Scream Queens.”

“I have no fucking clue what any of those bands sound like, but I like the names a lot more than ‘Fright Zone’.” She commented, placing the finished Bright Moon on the counter. “Here is your drink, Sparkles.”

“A pretty drink from a pretty girl. What else could I ask for?” Glimmer said with a smile.

“You sure you aren’t drunk already?”

“Maybe I’m always a little drunk.” Glimmer joked.

“That sure would explain things.” Catra teased, earning a playful death glare that she happily matched. They kept the stares going until they couldn’t hold it anymore and burst out laughing.

“You’re the worst.” Glimmer said when she finally stopped laughing.

“Hate you too, Sparkles.” She answered, with the biggest smile on her face.

And for the first time in a long time, she was genuinely happy.

[foxsoulcourt]

22 questions you may (or may not) want the answers to

Thanks for tagging me dear, dear Noa/ @queen-of-seventeen

zodiac sign: Pisces (I know there’s something about Leo too, but that input was from a loooooong time ago)

following: 324

followers: 362

name: Cory

nicknames: To my kiddos, Mama; w/Mr FSC, it's either Ms deMilo or Moy + the newest one, thx to @marodieren, Queen Sparklefish

hogwarts house: Ever the rebel, I don’t like being part of large groups, so I’m joining @fornavngoesexy in Hagrid’s wee cabin.

favourite musician : Only one?!! That’s a cruel, false choice. If I must, the wildly + widely talented Ella Fitzgerald.

song stuck in my head : Three from the Captain Marvel soundtrack I’ve got on repeat rn - Republica’s Ready to Go,  Garbage’s I’m Only Happy When It Rains + Hole’s Celebrity Skin

last song I listened to: Beck’s I’m So Free (from that same playlist)

height : 5′6″ or 167cm

last thing I googled: How to spell a word I didn’t know how to spell. It’s not charactereteurs or something similar; it’s caricatures

amount of sleep :  These days? 7-8 hrs

lucky number : 4 + 7

dream job: Join a colleague to co-direct a national roll out of a comprehensive, sex positive faith + sexuality curriculum

what I’m wearing: It’s morning (or it was when I wrote this), so my grey silk slip nightgown, a pair of Mr FSC’s boxers + a plum sweater

instruments :  voice

dream trip : kayaking in Anarctica

languages : English; modestly conversant in Spanish

favourite song: Us3′s Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia). Every.time.I.hear.it my body moves + my heart smiles.

random fact: At 10 I joined my friends as an extra in a Disney movie. (No, you’ve probably never heard of the movie. You have to look waaaaay in the background during the last 5 minutes to see me.)

Who else wants to play? @sig66 @alexjosten @jsteneil @allforthebee @filteredred @jtmann182 @fuckyeahdisreputablekibeth @seabearthirteen @bloodydamnit (if you 4 have the time in between rolling out COOL RR stuff!)

[purpletrackies]

a tag game!

tagged by @in-the-key-of-f-major and @flutenby - thanks!

1. nicknames: almost everyone i know calls me izzy, but i have one friend who likes to call me ‘dizzy izzy’, and i very occasionally just get ‘iz’. 

2. star sign: sagittarius, but i personally don’t take star signs seriously at all and also don’t identify with most of the traits i think sagittariuses are supposed to have.

(i am very fond of the mbti system, though - proud infj)

3. height: have not measured myself in years but... on the slightly tall side of medium for an effectively adult white female??

4. hogwarts house: ravenclaw (close second choice would be hufflepuff)

5. last thing i googled: images of crocuses, because i was pestering @flutenby by showing xym flowers that are coloured purple and yellow like the non-binary pride flag

6. favourite musicians: long-standing favourites are of monsters and men and passenger; obsessions right now are zalagasper and alec benjamin

7. song stuck in my head: chlorine by twenty one pilots (@isthatnotworthexploring listened to it on repeat on the train this evening :)) )

8. followers: 15 on this new blog lol i have not been good at reminding the people following my old blog that i’ve moved

9. following: 42 (again, still in the transfer process oops)

10. do i get asks? infrequently (sadly... hint, hint)

11. hrs of sleep: it varies between around 6 and 10

12. lucky number: i don’t believe in lucky or unlucky numbers, but i prefer odd numbers over even ones (i like to do and buy things in sets of three or five, for example)

13. what are you wearing? brown lace-up boots, black jeans, navy and white striped t-shirt, two jackets (denim and puffy; i’m out at night in a city much further south than the one i live in and it’s cOld)

14. dream job: loooook in all honesty i currently feel more unsure on this front that i probably ever have. there’s a part of me that still really wants to be a professional clarinetist in some capacity, probably working in an orchestra, but that is not looking likely since i kind of haven’t played since my musical breakdown like six months ago... i’m in my first year of university studying sociology and psychology at the moment, so my plan for now is to just do my best at that and see where it takes me.

15. dream trip: scandinavia!!!!!

16. instruments: clarinet

17. languages: i’m only fluent in english, but i know a fair bit of japanese and am maybe aiming to be fluent in it or another language (german??) one day

18. favourite song: at the moment (can i list three?? i’m going to list three), s teboi by zalagasper, if you go by passenger and if you ever want to be in love by james bay

19. random fact: i’ve recently become a volunteer for a national youth environmental activism organisation

20. aesthetic: overcast weather, feeling big and small at the same time while lost in big-city crowds, listening to music and watching the scenery pass on long train rides, nurturing my plants, reading a novel while perched high up in the branches of a tree with a flask of hot tea, snuggling up close to my significant other and feeling warmer and safer than i ever thought i’d be able to feel

tagging @lettersfromavonlea, @sardonic-soprano, @key-of-b-flat-major and @sporks-and-stars 

[fandom-games]

you'll know when he misses you

Warnings: swearing (minimal, though).

Word count: 2.1k

“Howell.”

“Pentland,” Dan fires back, keeping his eyes trained on his computer screen. It’s ironic to him–the people “spying” on civilians computers have to use computers. Who’s watching their computers?

Louise, probably.

“It’s ‘New File Friday,’” Louise announces in a sing-song voice, swiveling her chair around Dan’s so that she can place a beige folder much too close to his face. “And you’re the contestant for today’s lottery.”

Dan snatches the folder out of her manicured grip. “Thanks, Louise,” he mutters, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just what I wanted for my birthday.”

“I thought you didn’t make a big deal about your birthday. You know, being a detective and all that.”

“I’d appreciate not getting extra work, though!” He can hear the whininess in his voice. Even to himself he sounds like a petulant child.

“Besides, I think you’ll like this client.”

“They’re not our clients, Louise. We’re spying on them.”

Louise squawks with offence, “Only because they’re high-profile people! It’s the government, not us.”

“Who is my newest client, Pentland?” Dan growls, looking over the folder to continue typing his report. His last client–some unimportant movie star–was being relocated to another detective. The final report on any suspicious activity was due in about fourteen hours.

“His name is Phil Lester, he’s a YouTuber. His audience knows him as ‘Amazingphil,’” she sets the file down on Dan’s desk. “I emailed you the rest of the information. Don’t be late on the essay, Howell.”

“It’s a final report, Lou, not an essay,” he mutters. “I wish I’d never joined the academy.”

“But then you would’ve never met me,” Louise says, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Precisely.”

It’s five a.m. when Dan finally sends the final report. He’s running on coffee and energy drinks (and only some alcohol, he swears). An HR official emails him a sweet and short response, thanking him for his dedication to the person of suspect and signing off with the promise of a new assignment soon.

The way they always word their responses makes it sound like Dan will finally get out of this cycle of only serving person-of-suspect cases. He never does, for some reason Louise simply enjoys watching him squirm as he’s forced to stalk celebrities.

He logs into the only software he’s ever used on his computer–it allows him to have the screen of the person he needs to gather information. He tends to just leave the tab open and pull open the recordings from the microphone and the camera on the suspect’s computer.

Except for the fact this person–Phil–must be smart enough to put tape over his camera and microphone. Great, now Dan can’t do his job.

It’s okay. Some tape doesn’t truly stop the agents. Dan pulls open the tab for Philip’s mobile and opens up the mic and camera. No one tapes up their microphone or camera for their phones–it’s too inconvenient for them, but very convenient for the agents.

This Philip man is interesting, to say the least. Dan isn’t sure what about him capitivates him so much, but something does, and Dan doesn’t end up putting the case on a stall for a food break until eight a.m.

For any other agent, three hours of watching isn’t enough for one shift, but for Dan, it’s more than enough. Seeing as the other agents have to log more hours since they actually go home. Dan doesn’t, on the contrary, he stays in the office until the assignment is done or until Lou forces him back to his flat.

Phil, whose microphone had been silent until now, finally speaks. “Hey guys! Hi! Welcome to the show, everyone.”

His voice nearly makes Dan fall out of his chair before he regains composure and focuses his attention away from his caffeine and towards the screen. On Philip’s screen is a website that Dan barely recognizes–only because other celebrities have used it before–YouNow. It’s different than the liveshows his other assignments have done before–most simply talk about themselves and ignore the frantic chat. Phil doesn’t, though. He takes the time to say ‘hi’ to new people in the chat and then goes through and answers questions.

“‘How has your day been?’ Asks Sam. Tiring, thank you,” he doesn’t sound tired, he sounds quite the opposite. His voice is happy and light and it makes Dan’s heart soar. “‘What’s with the impromptu livestream?’ Asks Katie. Well, Katie, I was editing a video but it’s not going the way I wanted so I’m taking a break to vent my frustrations,” his eyes skim through the chat. “All of you are asking when the video comes out. Um, no promises, but let’s say… Tuesday. Maybe.”

The chat speeds up more, with people asking why he’s up so early. “Oh, I didn’t fall asleep.”

Is it another sleepless night with Phil? Someone types into the chat. Phil shrugs, and repeats, “No promises.”

That intrigues Dan more than it should. He plugs in the headset and goes to the channel Amazingphil. Skimming through the content, it’s easy to see why he has so many subscribers. His whole demeanor is so real and joyous. There’s a vibe that Philip gives off that Dan can only describe as real.

Dan finds himself watching some of Phil’s newest videos–for work of course. Then he clicks on the autoplay option, and he finds himself watching all of Phil’s videos–new and old. For work, he tells himself, but he knows it’s not really. There’s something about Phil Lester that makes Dan very intrigued by him.

It’s four days later when Dan feels as if he knows every detail of Phil, and he wants to know more.

He’s taken aback by it. He’s stalked nearly every single one of his celebrity crushes and was able to keep his raging fanboy off long enough to complete his assignment. Now, all he wants to do is be Phil’s friend. It’s not even romantic or sexual, he just wants to know who this ‘Phil’ person is.

The true Phil– the Phil who texts his brother to piss off at four a.m.–is different from the online Phil. The online Phil would text his brother back and start a conversation, but real Phil usually just wants to be left alone.

Dan can appreciate that. He too only wants to be left alone.

Seven days into the assignment and Louise finally forces Dan to go home. She claims that sleeping on his desk isn’t good for his back, but he argues that sleeping in his cheap mattress isn’t much better.

It is better, though. When he goes to work the next morning he actually feels like a human being again.

“Howell, HR wanted me to tell you that they want the Phil Lester case back.”

“What?” He says, perhaps a little too defensive. “I’m not done yet!”

“Well, you’ve got nineteen hours before they want the final report.”

The final report. Nothing needs to go in the final report. Phil isn’t like other celebrities. His messages don’t point to him doing drugs or being an abusive human being. The worst thing he’s done this week was mix vodka with Ribena and watch anime on his computer.

He includes that in his report, a sloppy and rushed essay (damn, he called it an essay) that states how much of a lovely human being Phil Lester is. Then he makes a promise to meet Phil.

It’s not illegal for Dan to add himself as a contact in Phil’s phone, so he does anyways. Sure, it’s morally wrong, but definitely not illegal.

He saves himself as ‘Dan’ with two star emojis after his name, and then shoots a text to Phil’s number. “Hey Phil it’s Dan! We haven’t seen each other in so long!! I was wondering if you wanted to go out and get coffee or something?”

Phil seems like the kind of person to not say that he doesn’t remember a person, and Dan hopes he’s correct in his assumption.

He is, because after two minutes of waiting, Phil has texted: Sure! Starbucks at 2? It’s never too late for a coffee.

Dan smiles to himself and sends a text confirming the time.

Coffee with Phil is nice. He’s simple and he’s kind and Dan feels his heart leap a little bit every time Phil does something cute.

Dan hates the fact that he feels this way.

They laugh and chat their way through their conversation, bouncing from topic to topic.

“This time again? Tomorrow?” Phil sounds so hopeful and eager and Dan can’t help but feel the same way. It’s been too long since he’s talked to someone other than Louise or the HR person that hides behind a screen. He’s missed the feeling of intimacy that comes with conversations.

One coffee with Phil turned into texting every day, and Dan can finally say, with much certainty, that he has found his best friend.

It isn’t overnight that Dan realizes that he and Phil were simply made to be near each other. It’s a gradual realization. He’s lying on Phil’s couch, listening to Phil record a liveshow in the room over, when it hits him how much they simply fit.

If Dan believed in God, he would say that God Himself made them for each other.

Sure, Phil might not know how Dan really found him, and sure they’ll need to talk about it in the future, but for now, Dan is just happy to belong somewhere.

Five months. It’s how long it lasted. A lovely, sweet, short five months, and then Dan had to come clean.

“How come you’re always gone?” Phil asks one day.

Dan thought it over for a moment. “My job,” he finally answers.

“Is it the same reason why you can’t be online?” Phil pressures.

“Yes,” Dan sighs, pausing the show they’re supposed to be watching. “Can we not talk about it? It’s not like I can tell you anything–”

“Because you’re a government official. I know, I know,” he flops dramatically onto the couch. Dan laughs at the gesture. “At least answer me this: do you really spy on people’s computers? You know, like the FBI man meme?”

Dan feels his blood freeze. “Er, well.”

And he comes clean. He tells Phil everything–every secret he’s signed off his soul to protect. Phil’s face ranges from happy, to scared, to disgusted. “Phil, I never planned on telling you, okay? I just–this wasn’t meant to be–”

“You saw everything? You never planned on telling me this?”

“I never could! I broke the law by telling you. Phil, I can go to jail because of this.”

“Good. You stalked me, Dan, that’s so wrong.”

“I never stalked you! I did my job.”

“Was meeting me for coffee part of the job? Were we ever friends before now? Is this all just a ploy to figure out if I���m breaking the damn law?”

“No! Shut up, stop putting words in my mouth. I never said that!”

“You implied it,” Phil states, simply. The fight seems gone and his eyes are ablaze with anger and rage anymore. He’s Phil, albeit, sadder. A bit more broken. “You lied to me. I thought we were best friends Dan. I thought that you and I were something special that could change the world. I, apparently, didn’t judge your character well enough.”

With that, Phil left.

Dan’s heart is gone out the door with him.

Dan tries calling Phil, he really does. It goes straight to voicemail every time. He tells him to call him back please for the love of God.

It isn’t until Louise comes over and asks why the hell he hasn’t been in the office recently that he cries and tells her the story. He omits the section where he breaks the law–no one but Phil and God Himself need to know that Dan has broken the most sacred contract.

She holds him and listens, kissing his hair and rocking him back and forth like she does Darcy. “You need to talk to him. I’m sure he misses you as much as you miss him,” she assures him. Dan just sobs harder because he’s certain that Phil doesn’t miss him at all. “Call from my phone, love. Maybe he’ll answer if it’s not your number.”

Dan takes the phone with shaking fingers and punches in the number for Phil’s cell. “Hello?”

“P-Phil?”

“Dan. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please, I’m so sorry, I–”

“You what? Meant to tell me all along? Oh wait, no you didn’t.”

“Please, I miss you.”

Phil’s end goes silent, to the point where Dan almost hangs up.

“I miss you, too.”

“Starbucks at 2?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Maybe things will be just fine.

cute! 88 points! 

-brook 

[jerepars]

Lionheart Extended Story Notes

Hyperlinks appear in blue (underlined on mobile). The story is posted here.

Jughead made arrangements to borrow the often-neglected car Veronica had gotten for her sixteenth birthday the year before. What did a rich girl with a chauffeur need with a Lexus hybrid anyway? Although it pained Betty and Jughead to be driving a vehicle whose engine didn’t purr until it was going well over 40 miles per hour, it was the best option they had. It was easy with Veronica. Jughead mentioned that Betty wanted to go to an exhibit at The Rosenbach and he wished he could take her…and Veronica took the bait. Anything for my B, she’d said all too quickly as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

The Rosenbach is a literary museum in Philadelphia at Delancey Place that houses rare books, manuscripts, and the like. One of the reasons I chose for Betty and Jughead to go to Philly over somewhere in New York or New Jersey was this place. It seemed right up their alley not just as a cover but as somewhere they would actually go (which I guess is what makes it the perfect cover, ha). One of the current exhibitions is called Clever Criminals and Daring Detectives. Like, come on, they are literally a couple of teenage sleuths. It's perfect.

He didn’t really like being Forsythe Jones from Delaware. He felt much better holding Betty’s hand in the elevator, seventeen and Jughead Jones, both of them giggling about what they were getting away with, like they were living on the edge. They hadn’t gotten to do the short road trip in FP’s old truck like something out of a Great American Romance but they’d still listened to Bruce Springsteen singing of wild hearts, blue jeans, and white t-shirts as they’d meandered south through New Jersey on the Turnpike.

I'm actually really pleased with this paragraph. Obviously Bruce Springsteen is from New Jersey and when I think of music with a romantic Americana feel, I always think of The Boss' iconic album Born in the U.S.A. I listened to "I'm on Fire" a lot while writing this scene. I feel like it captures the mood of the scene.

The line about wild hearts, blue jeans, and white t-shirts is actually a reference to "Blue Jeans & White T-Shirts" by The Gaslight Anthem, a New Jersey band that has covered, referenced, and played with Springsteen. The Boss has definitely sung about the topics in the line I used and the actual album cover of Born in the U.S.A. is blue Levi's and a white t-shirt.

And finally, the fact that I got to mention the New Jersey Turnpike makes me so happy. I believe there are a lot of pop culture references to it. For me in particular, the line in Saves the Day's "Jessie & My Whetstone" that goes it was summer then and I drove home whistling down the pike is one that has come to mind for years and years. To finally fit it somewhere in one of my stories feels like a bit of an accomplishment.

“Just…look. Listen.” Jughead repeated the same words, this time gesturing around them. “You can hear the city traffic outside. And this blank canvas, above our heads. Pure and unadulterated, ready to be whatever we want it to be, whatever we want it to mean.”

So the whole inspiration for writing the scene like this is the overhead angle from the scene in 1x11 where Jughead and Archie are in Archie's room discussing FP. Sadly, I can't find the clip on YouTube (understandable; a lot happens in 1x11) but if you have access to the show on Netflix, the scene is from around 15:08 to 16:28. I've only been able to find pictures and gifs of it. But yeah, seeing that overhead shot of Juggie staring at the ceiling just made me think that I needed a scene of Juggie and Betty staring at the ceiling.

Betty’s expression softened at his words. She could hear the sounds of the city, faintly, through the glass of their hotel window. It wasn’t the same white noise that filtered through when they were in their small town. It wasn’t the sound of vultures in the woods of Eversgreen Forest or the current of Sweetwater River or the deafening silence of her neighborhood at three in the morning. It was vibrancy—cars honking, sirens in the distance, footsteps walking purposefully on pavement. And the blank ceiling above her and Jughead was pristine with endless possibilities. Untainted. Un-ruined. They were far from home, and not only in distance.

Is it Evergreen Forest or Eversgreen Forest? It sounds like Eversgreen Forest when Betty says it in 1x07 (3:24 to 3:33), right? The Wikia says Eversgreen. Let's go with Eversgreen.

When he told her that he loved her, it was always special. It was earnest. So she didn’t mind that they didn’t say those words to each other constantly and that when they did, it was in hushed tones, like a secret vow that only they were privy to. She never wanted those words to lose their meaning and run hollow.

I guess I wanted to make the point that this is a very different Betty than the one who was in love with Archie all those years. This Betty loves Jughead and loves the way that he loves her. And I like this idea that for them saying 'I love you' is never going to become meaningless. I feel like it's romantic and sweet and honest in their way, not anything from Betty's childhood fantasies or teenage expectation or standard practice. That's not what I want for them, I suppose. To me, 1x13 leading up to the 'Believer' moment is such a big deal for Jughead. It gets me every time I watch it. The way he takes the beanie off. The look on his face when he says it. The look on his face when she says it. So in my headcanon, Jughead isn't just going to go from 0 to 100 declaring his love all the time even if this is set more than a year after they've established their relationship.

I could be wrong. We could get season 2 and he could be dropping L-bombs every episode or multiple times an episode. I don't know. But I don't think so.

She meant what she said. They weren’t sad tears. Jughead could see another one of her colors in the rings of her jade eyes. It was a shade of what he thought she reflected earlier when she’d joined him on the plush hotel bed. It was still pure, but it was something else, too. More electric. Orbiting around the black of her pupils it was there: white, hot fire. The color was just like all the fiery hardcore songs she’d come to like, blinding light emanating, sparkling embers flying. And the fire in her eyes wasn’t only just for herself or for him. It was for them, as individuals and together.

The original title for this story was Love Her For Her Fire. As I started writing I realized that I have ideas for a lot of one-shots or short stories involving Bughead and it's always this version (this universe?) of them. In the notes for the previous chapter I said that this feels a lot like character analysis and development disguised as a story. And maybe that is what I actually ended up doing, giving myself background for future stories about this version of Bughead. So I guess I want to write those stories and sequence them all into a series (Spoiler alert: Heartthrob would probably be the last story in the series so you already know it's a happy ending no matter what I put them through). One way to link them all, I think, is by giving them all one-word titles. I'll reveal in the final chapter why Lionheart is what stuck for this one.

Jughead had doubts. He always had doubts and fear. That was a byproduct of growing up around an alcoholic father who loved him but could never keep his shit together and a mother who’d abandoned him and taken his sister away, too. People left. He was always left behind. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that Betty wouldn’t one day leave him behind, too.

But a preview of the life he yearned for, in a big city, without the curse of his past troubled home life, and with Betty, it snapped him to attention. He wanted to be all in.

I kept the hardcore references to the bare minimum in this chapter since the final chapter is like 5000 words of them being at the show. In fact I think the only mention of hardcore in this chapter is when Jughead talks about the fire in her eyes. The last sentence in the quoted text above is a very, very discrete reference to the last 8 seconds of "Ante Up" by Bane.

[darcy137]

So my lovely @whalien27​ tagged me in this a long long time ago but I was in the middle of getting a new laptop (’cause my old ones heroically broke down right after my finals and after almost 5 years of loyal service to someone who is like the female version of Namjoon when it comes to destruction power), moving between my school and Boston and my internship place, and of course the start of my internship. Thus I had no time, until now, to do this.

Rule: Finish these 92 questions and then I’m supposed to tag 20 people. However my loser self don’t even have that many people I can comfortably tag so I’m gonna leave it open - you can do it if you see this on your feed and feel like doing it.

THE LAST: 1. drink: water 2. phone call: mom - which is funny, since I don’t call home that often 3. text message: with my group of roommate complaining about some projects I’m doing 4. song you listened to: Tomorrow - BTS. This is my motivational, my go to when I need a pick-me-up song. 5. time you cried: A few weeks ago - I watched The Ark’s The Light MV for the first time :/ 6. dated someone twice: yeah 7. kissed someone and regretted it: when I was in middle school and played a game where the game master would say things like “three arms” and you are supposed to make exactly 3 arms touching each other (you can join with other people). The game master said “two lips” and everyone thought it was a kiss, and since it was a kiss it would be better to do it with someone from the same gender so this girl grabbed me and kissed me before I could even react. Turned out by “two lips” the game master meant to press your lips together (a kiss would have been “two pairs of lips). I didn’t like the fact that the kiss was forced and it was to win a game, not for any romantic purpose - and we didn’t even win in the end, and it was completely unnecessary. So yeah, that was the only time I kissed someone and regretted it. 8. been cheated on: no 9. lost someone special: yeah 10. been depressed: yeah 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: no. I don’t like drinking, nor do I have high alcohol tolerance so I usually quit after one or two sips, and even I wouldn’t get pissed drunk that quick 

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS: 12-14. blue, pastel pink, purple, silver

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. made new friends: yeah 16. fallen out of love: yeah 17. laughed until you cried: yeah

18. found out someone was talking about you: yeah, but in a positive way: my Korean tutor (in our school for languages we usually have this system were we pair up a native speaker with a learner, so my tutor was a fellow student) told me her friend, who was a TA for our Korean teacher, told her that I did my homework well 

19. met someone who changed you: no, not during last year 20. found out who your friends are: yeah 21. kissed someone on your Facebook list: no. I didn’t kiss anyone last year, period

GENERAL: 22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: about more than half of them - the other half are people I works with on projects, so while I don’t really know them in real life I have talked to them in some way before or right after adding them 23. do you have any pets: no. I wish though - my dream is to have two dogs, one must be a German Shepherd, and may be a cat 24. do you want to change your name: no. I have grown to love my name over the years 25. what did you do for your last birthday: enjoyed school, hanged out a bit with my friend, applied like crazy for internship, had a minor quarter life crisis even though I wasn’t 25 yet 26. what time did you wake up: these days usually 6-7 am  27. what were you doing at midnight last night: trying to use internet. Ok so for my internship I was assigned a room in a student dorm nearby, which is super nice and convenient. However, since it’s a high school dorm, they cut off all internet connection at 1am exactly, so these days at 12am I would be crazily trying to savour the last hour of internet :))))) 28. name something you can’t wait for: going to LA after I’m done with internship 29. when was the last time you saw your mom: August 24th last year - that was the day I left Vietnam to return to school. 30. what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: nothing. I sometimes wishes things like to be born in another country (because I’m always curious about what it’s like to be citizen of another country), or to know certain people (like, imagine what it would be if you are best friend with BTS!!), but ultimately, everything - both good and bad - that I have experienced in my life makes me who I am today, and that’s why I don’t want to change a single thing 31. what are you listening to right now: nothing. I’ll probably play something from BTS after I’m done with this though 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: yes 33. something that is getting on your nerves: rude people 34. most visited website: tumblr, youtube, facebook, these days twitter as well since KCON is near 35-37. there was no question here so...  38. hair colour: very dark brown, like close to black brown, and the lower layer used to be dark bluish purple but it has faded a lot so it’s more purple mixed with light brown 39. long or short hair: long, like touching the middle of my back long. it’s the longest my hair has been in a while 40. do you have a crush on someone: normal people, not at the moment. celebrity, yes. 41. what do you like about yourself: my eyes and these days, my hair 42. piercings: ear piercings (the standard ones) 43. bloodtype: B, I’m about 60% sure it’s B positive but I don’t know 44. nickname: Darcy (yes it’s my English nick name - I don’t have it anywhere in any of my official paper), Huaiqiu, Gaeul, chubby cat, puppy, shrimp (apparently I sleep in curling position like a shrimp when it’s cooked so...), Mom, Aunt, Greatgrandma, Mama Bear 45. relationship status: single 46. zodiac: aquarius 47. pronous: she/her 48. favourite tv show: Criminal Minds 49. tattoos: none, though I sometimes flirt with the idea. If I ever do it, I would probably get a blue butterfly (something highkey reminding me of HYYH) or the sentence that I like the most from Tomorrow: Because the dawn before sun rises is the darkest). 50. right or left handed: right handed 51. surgery: does minor incision when they remove my wisdom teeth count? 52. piercing: wait does this question repeat? 53. sport: why do you think I was called “chubby cat”? Gym to me is like dance to Namjoon and Jin - something I can do if I need to, but probably not something I enjoy that much 55. vacation: I’m looking forward to my getaway to LA in August baby 56. pair of trainers: a blue runner pair

MORE GENERAL 57. eating: popcorn 58. drinking: water 59. i’m about to: read some fanfic 61. waiting for: the weekend 62. want: some motivation to study Korean, start learning case study and prepare my resume for consultant firms’ position 63. get married: I will think about it when my life and career are more stable 64. career: ideally HR, but I’m actually open to anything related to management, HR, development, customer services and even marketing

WHICH IS BETTER 65. hugs or kisses: kisses 66. lips or eyes: eyes 67. shorter or taller: for my partner, taller would be better but I don’t really care that much 68. older or younger: ideally older, but my ex was younger (though he’s probably as old as me, if not older mentally),so I don’t care that much I guess 70. nice arms or nice stomach: for others - I don’t really care. For myself, nice stomach - I’m a fatty especially around there :( 71. sensitive or loud: I’m more sensitive, and I would prefer people who are sensitive too unless you are Hobi then you are welcomed to be loud af my February Friend ~ 72. hook up or relationship: relationship, definitely 73. troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. kissed a stranger: yes. ^see my story above 75. drank hard liquor: I don’t think so?? I might have accidentally drank something when I was a kid but honestly I can’t remember 76. lost glasses/contact lenses: I don’t even wear glasses nor contact lenses (10/10 eyesight here) 77. turned someone down: yeah 78. sex on the first date: eh... I have never gotten pass first base with anyone so... 79. broken someone’s heart: ... unfortunately yes 80. had your heart broken: yeah... 81. been arrested: hell no 82. cried when someone died: yes 83. fallen for a friend: yes, and man I fell hard

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. yourself: not really... it has been a struggle for me, though I think I start to be able to do so a little bit these days 85. miracles: nah 86. love at first sight: definitely no. I believe in attraction at first sight - like, you can feel attracted to a person at first sight. However, to love someone means to learn about them, understand them and grow together in a positive way, so no way you can achieve that at first sight. I feel like people who claim they fall in love at first sight probably are attracted at first sight, and because they believe it is love they try their best in getting to know the other person and improve the relationship, which then turn it into real love.

87. santa claus: no. I even act as someone’s Santa Claus before so definitely no. 88. kiss on the first date: I don’t mind, but I also rather get to know the person well before kissing them  89. angels: no

OTHER:

90. eye colour: dark brown 91. favourite movie: I probably have a list, but the one I can remember right now are Conjuring 1 & 2, Insidious, Guardians of the Galaxy, Boss Baby, Pirates 1, 2 & 3, The King’s Speech

92.????? Is this question lost too??

[jadagul]

Disney’s Moana and Identity

I'm going to take advantage of the fact that for once I've seen a contemporarly popular movie and put on my literary critic hat. I want to use Moana as a jumping-off point for discussing some of the identity related stuff we've been chatting about lately.

Extensive spoilers for Moana. Moderate spoilers for the ending of Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett. References to Fellowship of the Ring and to Exodus. Hopefully everyone who cares has already read that last one.

@balioc especially has been discussing the importance of a sort of narcissistic self-identity for mental health lately, and I've been pushing back against that---I've long been of the position that having an identity is psychologically and socially harmful. Balioc has convinced me that, at least in the sense he's using the word "identity", I definitely have one and central to it is my aversion to any sort of identity, an interesting tension discussed here.

But in retrospect I think we're using identity perhaps slightly differently, and Moana is a really good illustration of why.

Moana has identity as a central theme. Let's start by looking just at the song titles: "Where You Are", "How Far I'll Go", "We Know The Way", "I Am Moana", "Know Who You Are". Both Moana and Maui go through central arcs of defining and redefining their identity.

Maui's is simpler. (He's not the protagonist so he gets less share of the narrative). When we meet him, he's deeply invested in his position as a cultural hero, the firebringer, the source of most of the good things people have. (His intro/only song is "You're Welcome", explaining all the great things he's done).

His low moment, in the middle of the movie, is when he doubts himself. Maybe he's not responsible for all the things he's accomplished. It's just because of the magic fishhook that the gods gave him, which he's had his identity wrapped up in since we met him.. "I wasn't born Maui. I was born to human parents....The gods made me Maui." Moana comforts him: "Maybe the ocean knew you were the sort of person who could become Maui, and that's why it brought you to the gods."

And the climax of his arc is when he helps Moana face down the demon Te Ka, even though it risks him losing his fishhook. And when he does lose it, he turns to Moana and smirks. "It's okay. I'm still Maui."

Moana's arc is richer, but in many ways similar. In the beginning of the movie she's torn between the place that's been prepared for her on the island as the daughter and heir of the village chief ("Where You Are"), and the way she feels drawn to the ocean ("How Far I'll Go"). She's close to giving up on the ocean and accepting her place in the village society, but learning that her ancestors were voyagers and explorers gives her emotional permission to go to the ocean ("We Know The Way").

Over the course of the movie, she strugges with whether she's really the right person to carry out her quest--the ocean chose her, but did it choose well? She feels like she's not really the person to carry out this quest.

And finally she's ready to give up, and tells the ocean that it chose wrong. But the ghost of her grandmother appears and asks her to listen to the voice inside her: "Do you know who you are?"

And in her answer, Moana begins by listing a bunch of things that are true, going through her upbringing and then what she's accomplished in the movie, and what she plans to do. And at the climax of the song, she triumphantly declares: "I am Moana!"

Both of these character arcs reach roughly the same place. The characters know who they are. They are secure in their identity. And consequently it doesn't actually need to be defended, or justified, or explained. "I am myself" is all you really need.

(It's not a coincidence that Exodus has God name himself "I am who I am." "I am" is about the most powerful identity you can have).

I briefly want to discuss three other characters.

First is Moana's grandmother. She lives on the isolationist island, and tells stories and dances with the ocean and is generally an object of mild ridicule. But since she is secure in her identity, this doesn't actually bother her: "The village may think I'm crazy/ Or say that I drift too far/ but once you know what you like/ well there you are." She encourages Moana to do the same. "That voice inside is who you are." She starts out where Maui and Moana eventually end up: she's probably the only character who's genuinely secure and happy for the entire movie.

Second is the giant crab Tamatoa, who in "Shiny" gets the most ridiculously fun song in the movie. He disdains this sort of internal identity: "Did your granny say 'listen to your heart; be who you are on the inside?...Your granny lied! I'd rather be Shiny!" On the one hand, he rejects this internal sense of identity, in favor of something external and visible, and I'm tempted to read this as what happens when you aren't secure in your identity, but have to rely on external validation.

On the other hand, he has a clear sense of identity: he's the one who's shiny! He doesn't actually seem to be arguing that he's shiny for external validation (though it is useful sometimes). It's just who he is and he's damn well going to express it.

Third is the goddess Te Fiti herself. The plot of the movie is launched when Maui steals her heart; the goal of the movie is to return it to her. But when Maui and Moana reach the island, the find that it is gone, and the dangerous demon Te Ka is lurking where it used to rest.

Moana realizes that Te Ka is actually Te Fiti, who has lost her identity and begun rampaging after losing her heart. But importantly, Moana does not tame her by returning her heart. Instead, Moana reminds her of who she really is, and is then able to return the heart:

I have crossed the horizon to find you

I know your name

I may have stolen the heart from inside you

But this does not define you

This is not who you are

You know who you are

Te Fiti's identity is inside her. She needs to (and can!) reclaim it herself, by remembering and knowing who she is.

So what does this tell us about identity?

First, that it's powerful and important. All of these characters come into their full power and are able to be their best selves only after they embrace their identities.

But second, that identity becomes powerful precisely when it's stable, and internal, and a thing in itself. When Maui thinks of himself as his powers and his fishhook, he can lose those, and be reduced. Once Maui decides that he is Maui, there's no way for that to be taken away from him. (And he can become the free agent with nothing to lose that @bambamramfan likes to talk about). At the end he is totally prepared to essentially commit suicide to protect Moana---he will die, but he will die being Maui.

(Compare: "I will diminish, and go into the West and remain Galadriel.")

And the same pattern is repeated with all the other major characters we discussed: their power and independence grows and thrives as their identity becomes self-sufficient. Once you know what you're like, well, there you are.

This form of identity---the one I see Moana exulting---isn't the kind that I've been resisting. Instead, I resist the identity that makes you vulnerable, capable of having your decisions and feelings forced by external actors. @bambamramfan describes that nicely here:

I think this level of identity - where we don’t wear it as a badge, but we would be upset if someone spread rumors how we don’t fit it - is between the parsimonious “keep your identity small” level, and the marketer based demographic-descriptors only level. It’s pretty valuable to realize what identities we are vulnerable to these attacks on.

And I think that's exactly the level I think is bad and unhealthy. The goal should be to develop an identity so strong and self-sufficient that we are not vulnerable to these pressures.

These pressures are bad for Grahamian reasons: they can make you believe something wrong because the sort of person you are would believe it. But they're also bad for eudaimonic and hedonic reasons: they make you vulnerable to judging, and shaming, and the "Big Other". Moana's granny is probably the most happy person in the film, precisely because she can be happy on her own terms, without having to justify herself to others real or imagined.

The other text I always want to look at here is Terry Pratchett's Witches Abroad, which is the last Discworld book I've read. (I vaguely plan to read more, but the list of things I vaguely plan to read is...extensive).

In retrospect, the entire novel is largely about identity, often communicated through the motif of mirrors. (Take a look at the Goodreads quotes page and see how many of them are about identity). You get such great lines as

[T]his is because people are riddled by Doubt. It is the engine that drives them through their lives. It is the elastic band in the little model aeroplane of their soul, and they spend their time winding it up until it knots. Early morning is the worst time -there's that little moment of panic in case You have drifted away in the night and something else has moved in. This never happened to Granny Weatherwax. She went straight from asleep to instant operation on all six cylinders. She never needed to find herself because she always knew who was doing the looking.”

But the scene that stuck in my head is the climax. At the end of the novel, Granny Weatherwax and her evil sister are sucked into a hall-of-mirrors world, and Death comes for them.

First he talks to the sister, Lily:

Lily turned, and a billion figures turned with her. 'When can I get out?'

WHEN YOU FIND THE ONE THAT'S REAL.

Lily Weatherwax ran on through the endless reflections.

And that's the last we see of her.

After that, he goes to talk to Granny Weatherwax:

Esme turned, and a billion figures turned with her.

'When can I get out?'

WHEN YOU FIND THE ONE THAT'S REAL.

'Is this a trick question?'

NO.

Granny looked down at herself.

'This one,' she said.

I told that story once in a conversation about identity, in the comments section to Ozy's blog I think. And some commenter responded: "Well, we can't all be as emotionally stable as Granny Weatherwax." And this brings us to Balioc's last and probably most urgent objection, though: practicality.

It’s very true. There will never be a perfect translation between your mindscape and the outside world, even assuming the very best of faith, and other people will not always act in perfect faith; so long as you need validation from the outside, some level of narcissistic injury is inevitable. Better for your identity to be unbreakable and independent, for you not to rely on others to shore up your sense of self. This is one of my own personal ambitions, which I cultivate as assiduously as I can, and I admire it in others.

But it is essentially a monastic path. It is built on a counterintuitive form of mental discipline. And monasticism doesn’t scale.

Charting out new forms of enlightenment is a good and a worthy task. But you will never ever ever ever ever induce any form of enlightenment in more than a tiny sliver of the population. That is not a viable method for saving the world.

But on a visceral level I just can't accept this. "We can't all be as stable as Granny", the commenter says. And my immediate reaction is, "but why not?" I don't think of emotional stability as some extreme form of monastic discipline. Emotional stability is the lazy path, the one that saves effort.

Why get upset, when being upset takes effort? Why care what other people think, when not caring about that is so much easier, and makes me so much happier?

I get that this isn't how other people tend to react to things. This set of feelings is apparently "weird" and "unbelievable" and makes me a "witch". (No, seriously, that's what they said).

So I guess I get to stay over here, advocating for enlightenment. (I prefer the iconography of the ubermensch, personally, but I'll take enlightenment). I really think it's the better path, the right path. And if I can help people reach this---help them learn how to let themselves be happy, and choose to be happy---then that's what I'm going to do.

Maybe this is a hopeless, quixotic quest. But dammit, it's my hopeless quixotic quest. And as we've just determined, that's what's important. Right?

(Wait, why am I asking you?)

[homearama]

Top 10 Best Earbuds for Kids Reviews in 2020

Buying your youngster a pair of earphones guarantees you do not have to pay attention to Infant Shark on repeat. But it is essential to differentiate which Best Earbuds for Kids are most safe for developing ears.

With these knowings in mind, we have actually chosen the very best kids earphones for any ages.

The Best Earbuds for Kids Reviews Buy & Guide

Etymotic Research ETY Kids5 Safe Listening B00FSAYMY2

The Etymotic Study ETY Kids5 is a well balanced appearing in-ear earphone. It is additionally light-weight and also comfortable to put on for youngsters’ ears.

The Kevlar ®- enhanced cord is less susceptible to tangle as well as long lasting even when abused by kids. In addition to volume limiting function, they have stellar sound separating performance thanks to the silicone-based triple-flange ear ideas.

Nevertheless, considering that the three-way flange earbuds tips are put on deep inside the ear canals, some youngsters may find them unpleasant. We advise attempting tiny ear tips first because of their shallow insertion and also ease of usage.

ETY earbuds are frequently called an excellent product for people who require a listening devices, yet they likewise make budget-friendly earbuds also and also focus on safe hearing for children.

Including a volume-limiting attribute to earbuds is not new, firms have actually been launching this sort of earbuds for a minimum of a decade as well as going back even more (to the age of cassette players, Koss introduced the Safelite line in the 1980s that had a warning light to alert users when the quantity was too loud.

This collection minimized the power obtained by the earbuds to a risk-free degree. For portable devices like Mp3 gamers, phones, and also tablet computers, the ETY Kids5 does the job for limiting volume. However, if you connect them into a resource with even more power, they are still able to get to higher volume levels.

In regards to audio high quality, The ETY Kids5 has a neutral midrange, clear treble, as well as tight, well-controlled bass. To make up for this bass deficiency, the ETY-Kids provide a great as well as pleasant mid-range with outstanding clearness. The treble audios pleasurable as well as smooth, yet not rather as soaring as you could hope for.

The ETY-Kids are not messing around; they have a lovely design and also your kids may not understand exactly how clear as well as specific they sound. These are the very best worth earbuds for youngsters, and also you will surely appreciate the volume limiting function and also excellent sound isolation. Please note: there are two versions of these earbuds: one with mic and also the other without.

The noise isolation is so good that wearers might not understand web traffic or horns around them, so don’t allow your youngsters to put on these products when they stroll to institution.

Information: Etymotic Research ETY-Kids5

Specifically created for youngsters ages 4 as well as up

Function volume-limiting secure paying attention earphones

Dynamic Vehicle driver

High resistance 300Ω

Pros:

Excellent sound isolating efficiency

Top quality construct

Excellent volume-limiting feature

Small and also light-weight

Cons:

They come in different shades yet lack a kid-friendly style

Etymotic Study HF3 Noise-Isolating B003YTROIU

Etymotic Research’s hf3 earphones block as much as 42 dB of noise, enabling you to focus on the music.

Real high integrity needs that the sound recreated be as close as feasible to the noise of an online efficiency. The Etymotic hf in-ear earphone series offers high performance balanced armature speakers with unequaled precision at an economical price. The 3-button proximity microphone developed for usage with Apple items gives simple control and also makes the hf3 perfect for voice interactions, in addition to for paying attention to music, videos, and also various other home entertainment. Consists of matching earmolds, replacement filters as well as a filter elimination device, along with a lugging pouch.

Pros

Detailed, straight and also crisp

Superb dynamics

Stylish

Can take customized buttons

Cons

Invasive cutting

Can be pressed to illumination by bad recordings

LilGadgets BestBuds Volume Restricted Earbuds with Mic for Children B015ENOQ6Q

Lilgadgets BestBuds earbuds include multiple silicon idea choices to assist discover the most effective suitable for tiny ears. The volume-limited earbuds are recommended for kids as much as 6 years old.

They are light as well as small with a sturdy, tangle-free cable television that sporting activities an in-line playback remote with mic.

The consisted of difficult traveling bag provides a great way for kids to handle the included accessories, ear pointers, and a splitter.

The SharePort Adapter (splitter) is a terrific method for children to share music or audio noise with a good friend or brother or sister (i.e., viewing a film with each other on a tablet) which permits you to share songs with others and also may also protect against a couple of disagreements.

Pros:

Developed especially for youngsters.

Advised for 6 years and up.

Traveling bag and also splitter included.

Tangle Free cable.

Cons:

The sounds quality is not outstanding.

Some reports by customers of a brief life-span.

Can be extra long lasting considering they’re made for youngsters.

Bose QuietComfort 20 Acoustic Sound Cancelling. B00X9KV0HU.

If you worth audio top quality over comfort, these Bose earphones are the very best you can purchase for sleep. They offer a tight fit and also outstanding audio high quality. They additionally have a built-in remote to readjust the volume, time out playback as well as skip tracks.

Bose includes three suggestion dimensions to guarantee you obtain an excellent seal– making it a terrific choice for choking snorers. The headphones are fairly comfy, but given that they are sealed, they can be awkward for the side sleepers.

Pros.

Active sound cancellation.

Comfortable ear plugs.

Bluetooth is typically transparent.

Noise: the call is clear at both ends.

Prolonged battery life.

Bose app– Very very easy to launch and keep up the app.

Cons.

It is a mighty pricey product.

Some audio remarks are not totally erased.

Soundcore Wireless Headphones Anker Spirit Pro. B07BMV5T2N.

The affordable Soundcore Spirit Pro wireless headphones from Anker impressed me with higher-priced audio performance and battery life. Geared up with metal cases, they are classy, resilient and with the ability of providing amusing sound with a dedicated setting for boosted bass. You can purchase them in black, blue or red.

The earphones are sweat resistant as well as comfy– there are plenty of ear suggestions in their retail product packaging to assist you locate the very best fit. I likewise like the truth that they can nest magnetically when not in use.

You can anticipate as much as 10 hrs of battery life for the Soundcore Spirit Pro wireless earphones between costs, which is impressive for a cost effective pair.

Pros.

The sound top quality responds dramatically to these headphones at affordable prices.

Bluetooth functions perfectly with my Android phones and tablets (Huawei P10, Samsung Galaxy, Sony Xperia Z1).

Fairly quick fee and lasts a while.

Uber fits when you finally obtain the best accessories.

Cons.

The volume might be a little louder.

JLAB Audio JBuddies Studio Volume Safe Headphones. B01MTDAGI4.

Loved one newbies in the earphone for the youngster’s market, JLAB does a great task making a great impression with consumers. Design-wise, JLAB will certainly bring in young songs enthusiasts with their Tron influenced appearances. Incorporating bright neon colors that outlines a matte gray cover, it definitely looks great, no question concerning that.

The friends earphones are developed for children ages 6 years and over as well as use extremely soft earpads to supply optimum convenience for a kid’s delicate ears. Nonetheless, the general size of the JBuddies also allows it to be put on by grownups. It utilizes tangle-free cable televisions, which are non-detachable; while this may look like a disadvantage for cordless fans, it does assist make sure the volume limitations remain in area.

The JBuddies has a quantity limiter that keeps audio at a comfy 80.9 dB which is the advised paying attention volume. I did videotape the volume degree raising to 89dB when utilizing my iPhone, which is still within the reasonably safe quantity level.

Audio quality has much to be desired, and also in today’s cordless globe, being restricted by a cord is a deal-breaker for some consumers. That being claimed, with its price tag, overall strong building and construction, and risk-free audio degree, the JBuddies earphone takes care of to construct a credibility as one of the much better headphones layout for youngsters.

Secret Attributes:

Eco Natural leather pillow earpads. Built-in volume regulators to 85dB (89dB max). Makes use of braided-nylon tangle-free cord. 30-day satisfaction warranty.

Our Ranking:

Audio Top quality: 8/10.

Bass: 8/10.

Construct Quality/Design: 9/10.

Fit/Comfort: 9/10.

Battery Life: n/a.

Connection (Bluetooth security): n/a.

Who would this be good for?

As a result of its significantly lower cost, the JBuddies headphone is a suitable choice for those who want to give their kids a cost-efficient, kid-friendly, as well as safe headphone to utilize.

Pros:

Great choice for children ages six as well as up.

Portable collapsible layout.

The quantity regulator keeps the sound level around 85dB.

Comfy.

Cons:

Not a good choice in a loud public area due to below-average noise termination..

MX10 Bluetooth apple iphone Headphones B01LYDQMXC.

The MX10 headphones work with Android, apple iphone 6, 7, 8 and also X smart devices, as well as with MP3 gamers. They are Bluetooth compatible and also can quickly link to your phone and 2 various other Bluetooth tools at the same time.

With these headphones, you can enjoy as much as 10 hrs of playback. One very good point is that the battery does not discharge when you are not using them, so you do not have to charge them extremely commonly. They include a USB charger.

When it comes to fit, this version includes 3 different sizes of earmolds and 2 dimensions of foam paddings. By selecting the right dimension, you can obtain a perfect fit as well as the headphones won’t befall.

The sound quality behaves and they are outfitted with CVC 6.0 noise cancellation.

Pros.

Extremely easy to pair with the phone.

The soft ear clip.

Battery is durable and also holds fee.

Has a water immune layout.

The ear hook is flexible.

Cons.

Some clients have whined that noise cancellation is not very efficient.

The audio is not very effective.

LeapFrog Headphones Testimonial. B008DFT6OA.

The LeapFrog headphones are marketed as an exclusive headphone for use with Jump’s tablets as well as other gizmos. However, that is untrue as this collaborates with any gadget that has a 3.5 mm headphone jack. One thing I removed after taking a look at the LeapFrog earphone is exactly how tough they are. This headphone was created especially to be made use of by kids as it resembles it can withstand harsh usage.

I likewise located the earphone to be slightly bigger than various other kid’s earphones on this checklist. I would certainly advise this headphone for youngsters ages seven and also above as it appears to be also huge for kids.

The earphone is marketed as having a quantity regulator that maintains sound degrees at a recommended 85dB.

I suggest you make sure that the tool this earphone is connected to keeps its moderate volume level. It includes soft over-ear supported earpads that are fairly comfortable to put on.

This is an overall good choice for a children’s earphone as well as is durable to endure greater than a couple of drops to the floor. If you take added safety precautions, the Jump earphone is certainly an extremely recommended headphone for youngsters.

Trick Attributes:

Comfy earpads.

Compatible with all Jump devices.

Well-crafted as well as sturdy building and construction.

Our Score:

Audio Top quality: 8/10.

Bass: 8/10.

Construct Quality/Design: 9/10.

Fit/Comfort: 9/10.

Battery Life: n/a.

Connectivity (Bluetooth stability): n/a.

Who would this benefit?

If you are a passionate follower of Jump items, then this is a good selection as any for your youngster. It is durable and does a fine enough job preserving risk-free listening degrees. I do advise that you make sure the audio gadget itself is playing songs at secure degrees due to the fact that the Jump earphone volume regulator being a little particular.

Pros:

Well-crafted.

Budget-friendly.

Comfortable.

Cons:

Volume regulator tends to go past the 85dB restriction and can sometimes even reach 91dB..

CCA C12 in Ear Display B07XPSYH6Z.

CCA-C12 King of hybrid technology 12 specialist devices Crossbreed technology Twin magnetic headphone circuit and dynamic twin capacity device Based on the radio frequency of the C10 twin magneto dynamic, it can be maximized, with better power efficiency and far better short-term efficiencies.

CCA C12 In the headset are 5BA + 1DD on each side. The stiff 10mm diaphragm supplies full and also split mid and radio frequencies. Aluminum alloy layout as well as resin situation in the ear earphones is The cover is made of excellent quality aluminum alloy while the cavity is. HIFIHEAR CCA C12 6BA chauffeurs upgraded in in-ear headphones. It contains low frequencies, rich carefully. The audio. Removable cable television ・ Professional wire. It can properly safeguard the avo. Defense duration of one year: Better Sound has formal authorization from CCA, all products are original. one year of security.

Pros.

Very good noise, particularly for the price.

The twisted cable looks well made as well as looks sturdy.

The mid and high regularities are crisp and also pleasurable.

Cons.

The bass is a bit pasty (not crunchy) under the best circumstances.

source https://homearama.tv/best-earbuds-for-kids/

[ecotone99]

[HR] Objects in the Rearview Mirror May be Closer Than They Appear

​

This one is my first go at a scary story! Let me know what you think!

*****

As far as anyone was concerned, there was nothing wrong with the car, except maybe that both Grandpa and Great Uncle Jim had died in it. Of course, if one could get past sitting down where two old guys bit the dust, she really was a beauty. Luke Ballinger’s seventy-five Mustang convertible was cherry red, with the original leather still intact and a chrome bumper that sparkled and shone like the day it hit the market. And though he’d taken extra care to ensure that the black, rubbery tonneau cover didn’t lose its luster during the time it was secure between the windshield and the trunk (which was every day for the ten years he had it) it still looked like it was aching to get out of the sun. Gloria, as the car had been christened, wasn’t just a convertible. It was like she wanted to cart around a group of hip teenagers with the roof torn down and her speakers straining with rock and roll and dirty pop songs. She sat in the driveway with a look about her that screamed anticipation; she had an engine that rested on its toes, bound beneath a slick hood that bled seduction and seemed to whisper: drive me, baby. Gloria looked alive. She was no Porche, but to the six grandchildren of driving age in the Ballinger family, she was the ultimate ride. It took one day for every foot Grandpa lay underground for everyone to start bickering over who was going to get it.

As it turned out, the car legally hadn’t been entrusted to anyone. Grandpa’s will left a lot of money to a lot of people, but there wasn’t any mention about where the convertible would go. And so the vicious battle to lay claim to Gloria began. Grammie Jean suddenly found six, new, very sympathetic helpers around the house. On a slow day, two of her grandchildren would show up at the same time with promises of Pine-Sol and elbow grease and then fight over who could offer the most of their services. The sudden interest in visiting confused her, especially since the children only really stopped over on holidays—but the front yard had never been so trim. She wasn’t complaining.

Five of the grandchildren spent a good two weeks completing chores that Grammie Jean hadn’t been able to get to for years, hoping that she’d find favour with one of them enough to write it over to them on their birthday or something. But the middle grandchild, whose name was Julie, quietly under the radar, had taken a different approach to trying to get the car. On the days that her cousins weren’t sniffing around her grandmother’s back yard, she would go over to visit. At twenty, she had chores of her own to worry about and though she had hoarded more than enough money to purchase her first ride, she preferred to keep that stockpile for other things. Levelheaded, logical and skeptical of anything she couldn’t see, reasonable Julia grew tired of watching her cousins’ repeated attempts at manipulation, and thought of a better plan. On a Wednesday in June, she marched into Grammie Jean’s living room and asked if she could have the Mustang.

“I don’t see why not,” the woman remarked, “Your grandfather hated the damn thing; wouldn’t even get in it some mornings. It’s about time someone gave it a good spin. Take it off my hands.”

That was that. Julie would never forget the look everyone wore when they congregated at Grammie Jean’s house the next Monday ready to begin working for a prize that was no longer available to them. She watched in triumph as their faces lit with shock, and then fell with disappointment, and then after a minute, as they each contemplated how to hide their anger about the defeat, twisted in disgust. The car, in three seconds flat, had gone from a thing to be coveted, to a dirty rag.

“Ew, Julia, Grandpa died in that thing. You’re sitting in his, like, juices.”

“I heard Great Uncle Jim kicked it in the front seat before he did. Sat in it a week before they found him too, I bet.”

“Dude, that car is totally cursed.”

“Julia’s probably going to die now.”

“Still gross, man.”

Julia didn’t have to shrug a single person off that day. She was enjoying her victory too much and each dig at her confidence only boosted it further.

It took about a week for her to discover why Grandpa loathed the car. On a breezy afternoon, Julia packed the Mustang to capacity with squealing girlfriends and took her for a spin. Gloria sailed down backroads, radiating freedom, and everyone drank it in and sang cliché choruses to songs that they didn’t know the names of. By the end of the day, with the sun still high for another few hours, Julia dropped her crew off one by one, and took off on her own to enjoy her new toy.

That evening, everyone seemed to be out tending to their yards. This meant that Gloria had an audience, and Julia loved it. People lifted their heads from their gardens to watch in awe as the red beauty cruised by. One man in particular seemed especially enthralled by the sight. He was in his forties, an infant beer gut just starting to swell from his waistline, slipping into the routine of mundane summer chores: he mowed the lawn on a tractor while his wife, easily ten years his junior, lay out on the grass in her bikini. Julia looked up and smiled; the man waved, and watched her drive past in admiration. She was so pleased with the attention that she continued to watch him, smug through her rearview mirror as the scene melted away.

Just before she lost sight of them, however, she noticed that the man, who couldn’t keep his eyes off of her bumper, had continued driving forward and was growing dangerously close to the woman on the ground. As her car rounded the corner, the front of the mower began chewing the towel, grinding grass, and then fabric, and then, before Julia had time to register what was going on, hair and flesh. The mower had been red, like her car, and, as she thought sickeningly before turning the corner completely, red like the puree now spraying generously out the back of it.

She hit the brakes, slamming her head off of the steering wheel. As she shook the stars from her eyes, she was unsure if the grating screech she heard came from Gloria or out of her own mouth.

That man had just ground up his own wife with the family mower. Right over the back of her head. She’d been listening to music too, Julia bet, and so she probably had no idea what was happening until her brain went to bits like strawberries in a blender. Julia opened the door and dry heaved a few times before her heart fell back from the inside of her throat. She sat up, slowly, sweating, and wondered if turning around was the right thing to do, and then thought about what she’d gain from it: most likely some serious PTSD and enough guilt to last her a lifetime.

You just witnessed murder. She thought, and then quickly corrected herself. Manslaughter. You saw manslaughter. He didn’t mean it.

Because he hadn’t meant it. He’d been wrapped up in her car, and like the pied piper to a rat, the Mustang pulled him right toward calamity. It was technically her fault.

Go back, she thought. Go back there and help. Julia knew there was a rule against driving away from an accident, but that usually only applied to the drivers stuck behind it. What happened to the people in front? Not everyone watched their mirrors every ten seconds. Leaving and forgetting about the whole thing was perfectly logical and, she assumed, even legal. Even if it is my fault. But the justification didn’t hold, and Julia tearfully found herself reaching for the gearshift to turn around. As she backed into a nearby driveway, Julia caught on to something and stopped. The street was quiet, and that didn’t make any sense at all.

Julia expected screaming, and wailing and shouting and sirens, but there was nothing to be heard over the hum of her engine. She waited, listening intently to any sign that her assistance would be needed. Instead of screaming, however, she heard a lawn mower. The tight knot that had formed in her stomach loosened, and then the whole thing turned to jello, threatening to send whatever was left inside it back out into her lap. Was that monster going back for round two? While every fibre of her being pulled her away, Julia took a wavering breath, locked the doors and put the car in drive. If the watery nausea she felt was right, she would be required to report something completely different to the police. She chanted to herself: I will not get out of the car. I will not get out of the car. Julia pulled out onto the road, and the Mustang crawled around the corner.

When she saw that the man was still driving around the lawn, earphones in, bopping his head to music she couldn’t hear, Julia let out a sob. That sick bastard, oh my God, he wasn’t looking at the car, he was watching me and he killed his wife, that sick fuck ohmygodohmygodohmygod—

But there was no blood in the grass. There were no scraps of skin or hair or grey matter dotting the ground. When Julia did gather the courage to look down, she saw that the woman, now slightly burning, had flipped over onto her back and was reading an issue of Cosmo. Julia let the car roll by, her body, now a bundle of live wire, thrummed as her cheeks grew wet.

I must be going insane, she thought. The man waved. A little blond girl that she hadn’t seen before, their daughter, she supposed, smiled at Julia as she jumped rope in the driveway.

That night, she googled symptoms of psychological disorders. Much to her relief, she didn’t qualify for anything out of the ordinary. Instead, she concluded the only logical explanation: she was tired. Her diagnosis was an overactive imagination and with a good night’s sleep, the prognosis was cheerful. When she woke up the next morning with the sun creeping in through her curtains and the lawnmower incident buried deep behind the duties of the day, Julia felt better.

Except that evening, through the rearview, she watched a jogger bring his run to a dead halt on the Town Bridge and swan dive over the side. This time, when she slammed on the brakes and pulled over, Julia got out of the car, phone at the ready like a pistol from her hip. She didn’t need to go very far. Before her foot made full contact with the sidewalk, she bumped into him head-on. Though the running man wasn’t impressed, a very shaken Julia informed him that she was glad he was still alive and he managed a confused smile before carrying on. A little girl eating an ice cream cone looked at her incredulously across the street. On the way home, she kept her eyes on the road ahead, and vowed to stop drinking coffee so late in the day.

A week later, Julia was switching lanes on the highway and caught a glimpse of the driver behind her. He was missing his head; jagged arteries grew from the stump left behind and spurted forth black blood like a clogged fountain. It created an abstract masterpiece on the inside of the windshield. It took everything she had not to pull the car off of the road. Later on, when her heart slowed and her hands grew steady, the same car whipped past, carrying a family of four. They were singing along to something upbeat on the radio, and their heads were very much where they were meant to be. Their daughter, small and blonde, made a face at her through the back window.

As time wore on, Julia became resigned to the fact that she was losing her mind and had begun practicing different ways to break the news to her mother every evening before bed. Nightmares of the grizzly deaths she was witnessing—now at least one every time she got behind the wheel— destroyed any hope of sleep, each scenario more gruesome than the last, played out in perfect clarity in a three by seven inch mirror. And each time she’d turn around, everything would be pristine and pretty again, and she’d wake up sweating and screaming and wishing she hadn’t asked for the damn car in the first place. She had started wondering whether or not the thing was cursed after all.

Eventually, after watching her Uncle Frank’s six-year-old golden retriever get his head squashed by the family Toyota while the line of cars leaving Fourth of July dinner backed out of his driveway, Julie had to admit that she had had enough. In a fury, she marched into her uncle’s garage, found a roll of duct tape and sealed the rearview shut for good. She washed her hands of the matter, and with some difficulty, was able to find her way back to the road using only her side mirrors. Curse or insanity, regardless of the matter, Julia was free.

She drove that way for weeks, and eventually—save for a few angry, blaring horns from the drivers she cut off—grew comfortable driving blind. Soon, the frequent hindsight bloodbaths became nothing more than a faded memory. All was well.

Until one Sunday Julia’s mother enlisted her to take Grammie Jean to church. That morning the two sat in her kitchen, sipping tea and sharing stories when the topic of the car came up.

“So how do you like it?” Grammie Jean asked.

“Oh, you know. It’s nice to have something to drive,” Julie replied, taking in too much tea and then having to swallow the scalding mouthful. She flashed a pained smile. Grammie Jean laughed quietly.

“You know you can tell me that you don’t like it. Luke hated it.”

“So you said,” Julie murmured. “Say—Grammie, did Grandpa ever say why he didn’t like the car?”

Grammie frowned, drumming her fingernails on the tabletop. “You know, it was something about it being bad luck— or some other complete nonsense. Kept seeing bad things in it. He was convinced that it was the Mustang’s fault that anything had happened in the first place. We’d be out driving somewhere and he’d yelp and speed up out of the blue,” she shook her head, “Come to think of it, I never did see any of the stuff he was talking about, and the damn coward never turned around to help if there was someone who needed it. I guess it was good he never did. Had I known his heart was so bad, I’dve never let him in a car in the first place.”

Julie felt a familiar anxious tickle.

“Didn’t Great Uncle Jim have the car before Grandpa did?”

Grammie Jean nodded, clicking her tongue. “Jim was the worst driver I had ever seen. That man managed to cause enough accidents to break a world record…And he never stayed,” her eyes fell.

“Once, when your grandfather and I were younger, Jim cut a couple off on the main road, and they swerved and ran down a little girl. I remember watching it happen out the back window, and screaming at him to stop, but he just kept driving. A few days later, I read in the paper that she had died. I wanted to call the police and tell them; that poor couple was in so much trouble, but Jim made us promise not to tell.” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s why I don’t care too much for skipping Sundays.”

“Wait, he did that in the Mustang?” Julia was feeling very peculiar indeed.

“Oh no,” Grammie Jean said, “this was long before Gloria’s days, my dear. But I think he had even more problems with that car that he did with any other. Toward the end, I think some of the reckless decisions of his younger days had caught up with him. He didn’t really care for driving much by that point, either. We’d all go out, and he’d spend the entire ride monitoring his rearview like he expected to relive some of his mistakes. The guilt got to him, I think.”

Julie had an inkling that guilt didn’t have much to do with it.

“But God, that little girl. Blonde pigtails, and a smile that’d win anyone over. I couldn’t get the image of her obit picture out of my head for years.”

Oh yes, Julia was feeling, very, very funny. Because the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she wouldn’t be able to forget that little girl’s face either. She had seen her almost daily in various ways that summer. Sometimes with a skipping rope, sometimes with a ballcap and jean shorts, always with blonde, shiny pigtails.

“Grammie Jean, How did Uncle Jim die?”

“Heart attack. Right behind the wheel, like your grandfather. Fitting, too. They were both so close.”

Julie felt the blood drain from her face.

“No need to look so nervous, dear,” said Grammie Jean as she collected the teacups, “the family had a history of heart disease. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Grammie Jean stroked her face with an affectionate thumb, “You’re nice and strong and beautiful. You’ll be quite all right.”

Now more than ever, Julie found that she was reluctant to get into the driver’s seat. Don’t be silly, she thought, shaking her head as she helped her grandmother into the front. Your car isn’t haunted; it’s not demon possessed. Julie ran through every logical explanation that disproved ghosts and other supernatural things in succession as she gathered the courage to sit down and buckle her seatbelt. Even though she was able to reassure herself a bit, Julie eyed the covered mirror with apprehension. If you’re so sure, she whispered in her heart of hearts, then why don’t you take the tape off? Shuddering, she started the car, thankful to have that firmly in place, thankyouverymuch.

A cry from the right made her jump. Her first thought was that Grammie Jean had seen something too. The woman was staring in horror at the rearview, and for a split second, Julie felt relief. She was not alone. She was not insane. But in the same instant, Julie remembered that Grammie probably couldn’t see anything at all. And that was probably why she looked so mad.

“Are you insane?” she cried, waving wildly at the tape.

Yes, Julie thought. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“Grammie, I—”

“I don’t care what sort of trend that fits. I will not risk my life in the name of fashion. You take that tape off right now.”

“Grammie—”

“Now, Julia!”

So Julie had to pull over and remove her saving grace. She was careful not to look as she scraped away the remaining bits of tape, and forced herself to only use the side mirrors when she pulled out into traffic. Aside from the furious lecture she received from her grandmother, the trip to church was rather uneventful. Julie managed to drop Grammie Jean, still grumbling, at the front and went to wait for her in the parking lot, incident free.

Alone in the car now, with nothing to protect her, Julie was terribly anxious. She had brought a book with her to stay occupied like she always did with long waits, but with the glaring portrait of hell above her head, it was hard to focus on her story. She knew that if she were to glance back, she’d get a shot of something gruesome. And now that she was aware at some level that there was something horribly wrong with the car, Julie had a feeling it would be the worst scene yet.

Of course, that meant that Julie believed in ghosts and other stupid things, and as any rational human being—as Julie proudly labeled herself—knew, it was silly to entertain the conjurings of the imagination.

That didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t shake the thought of the two men who had died where she was sitting. Before today, she hadn’t heard tell of a history of any ailment in her family. And both men seemed to have trouble using their mirrors. It was enough to leave a sour taste in her mouth.

There was also the sudden, stinging, sure as shit feeling that someone was watching her from the back seat.

Julie suddenly wondered if a short burst of intense fear was enough to send someone into cardiac arrest.

She could resist the mirror no longer. It was either time to dismiss her imagination or confront whatever was blocking her vision. Slowly, heart pounding, she lifted her eyes from her book to the rearview, praying—for the first time in a long time— that there would be nothing there.

But Julie was met by the cold, milky white source of the gaze that bored its way into her spine. The little girl was older than Julie thought she would be, but then again, it was hard to tell. She was sitting in the middle of the back seat; half of her face had been mashed in and torn away. Julie had never seen a car accident victim, but this one looked like someone had taken an eggbeater, stuck it into her ear and let it fly. Brain, blood, and clear fluid leaked through the grated, bony mess, and when she smiled—because that’s what they always did in the movies, wasn’t it? —six of her teeth fell out onto the collar of her shirt.

Julie’s friend was not alone. The girl lifted two mangled arms and draped them over the shoulders of the moaning corpses in the seats beside her.

Bloated and purple, as though they had been laid out on hot asphalt to rot, Grandpa and Uncle Jim grimaced up at her, two sets of gnarled hands clutching at their chests, where the buttons of their shirts burst from the pressure, their faces twisted and frozen in their final expressions. Grandpa looked horrified. Uncle Jim looked guilty.

There’s no room for me back there, Julie thought.

And then she screamed.

They heard it in the church. Halfway through the offertory hymn, the congregation fled the sanctuary to find Jeanie Ballinger’s granddaughter slumped over the steering wheel in her husband’s mustang. When they managed to pry her knuckles, white and hardened from the dash and get a good look at her, it was evident that there was nothing they could do.

The whole town agreed that it was a right shame Julia Ballinger went the way she did. Twenty years old, and her heart wasn’t strong enough to take the summer heat. There was talk about a cardiovascular health course at the community centre. There was talk about a memorial.

But there was even more talk about the look on Julie’s face when they found her. Some blamed it on panic. Some kids, trying to scare younger siblings told stories of monsters and killers in the parking lot. Most people left it to awkward, premature rigor mortis and left it alone.

Regardless of how anyone explained it, the look etched into Julie’s face was unforgettable. Frozen forever in a soundless cry, dull eyes stuck heavenward, the horrified grin she wore was so unsettling, the family opted for cremation.

The Mustang returned to its usual spot in the late Luke Ballinger’s garage. When the shock of losing Julie died down, the grandkids began to fight over it again.

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