#the law is unfair and benefits people and corporations like these

[sunshineandlyrics]

Murdoch's money talks! The Sun gets away with it again.

17 April 2024

[thefirst3chapters]

Unpopular opinion (maybe): Luke's ultimatum at the end of Season 3 inadvertently reinforced Jess's choices that stopped him from finishing high school in the first place.

Disclaimer: The intent here isn't to attack Luke for how he handled things. The overall effect of Luke's presence in Jess's life is undoubtedly positive and instrumental to where Jess ended up. Luke was put in an unfair position that he wasn't prepared for, he genuinely cared and tried his best with the knowledge he had, and it would have been well within his rights to say no to Liz to begin with or to Jess when he came back after the car accident.

From what Jess tells Rory in "Teach Me Tonight," it sounds like he never had much academic support from adults, which is of course why Rory's belief in him will end up meaning so much. Details about Jess's childhood that are revealed once Liz is around suggest that Jess didn't have trustworthy adults in his life and had to learn how to be self-sufficient early. Even though we as the audience can see that Luke is responsible and trustworthy through his own actions and his relationships with people who have known him for many years, Jess doesn't have the same history with him, and it can take a long, long time to unlearn those survival instincts. Additionally, Jess's Walmart manager, as gregarious and pro-corporate as he seems to be, doesn't appear to engage in the practice of pressuring introverts to socialize (which happened to Rory at Chilton) and allows Jess to do something constructive and work toward a tangible reward. Some people get these benefits from going to school, but Jess didn't. Then there's a layer of youthful hubris here because Jess really did seem to think that he could manage all of this and go to school just enough to graduate based on what he tells Rory in S3 E17, Luke in S3 E18, and the principal in S3 E19. With of all this information in mind, it's really not surprising that Jess would prioritize work above school. His logic is self-destructive but understandable, and his fatal flaw ends up being that he committed to more responsibilities than a person could reasonably handle. This isn't the standard media portrayal of ditching school.

Luke's approach to being Jess's guardian is fairly hands-off. After Luke's "laying down the law" talk in the first episode Jess is in, the only requirement we see enforced is that Jess has to work at the diner, which Jess complies with. Luke didn't know Jess was working at Walmart at all until Jess bought his car, he didn't know Jess was eventually working more than full-time hours, and he didn't know Jess was missing as much school as he was. (This last one suggests a significant oversight at the school, which is another story.) When the extent of Jess's work hours is brought to his attention and Lorelai speculates about what is going on, he tells Lorelai that there is no way Jess would skip school and doesn't investigate further. When he realizes Jess is working some days instead of going to school, he offers to pay Jess more at the diner (and later steals his car) to prevent him from working at Walmart (the place he worked before he had a car to earn the money to buy it???) but doesn't press him about what is really going on.

So after all of that, it turns out Jess didn't go to school enough to graduate. Luke does give Jess the option to stay in Stars Hollow and keep going to school, but I could never blame someone for not being able to have a rational conversation immediately after a stranger randomly shows up, claims paternity, and runs out. The emotional damage of that incident really can't be divorced from what happens here. Luke is of course also in crisis mode. Jess didn't graduate because he worked too much, so now he's in a position where his consequence is to keep doing what got him into trouble, only this time he doesn't have anyone looking after him. This isn't what Luke is intending, but his ultimatum basically reinforces Jess's mindset of prioritizing work (i.e. short-term financial security) above school and his reluctance to trust other people, and it reinforces Jess's family history (ironically not including Luke) of abandoning difficult situations (in this case, the aftermath of the fight with Dean) and relationships (in this case, Rory) instead of facing them. Jess ends up on his own with the money he had from work that he was saving for a different car, so he probably thinks it's a good thing he worked as much as he did, and he ends up without adult guidance or restrictions to help him sort all this out and repair the harm he caused. This could have turned out much more darkly than it did, and it's really a miracle that Jess got to where he was by the time he was 21.

When Jess is with Jimmy in California, he acknowledges that he's failed and doesn't know where to go from there. It probably isn't outlandish to think that Jess was earning more as a full-time forklift driver than what he is earning during Season 4. Factoring in the lower cost of living in Stars Hollow or somewhere nearby compared to New York, he probably could have been able earn a decent living if he stayed at Walmart (even if he wouldn't have been better off in the long run). That's probably why Luke's "I'm sorry I didn't think driving a forklift for the rest of your life was good enough for you" stung. It was likely a much better situation than whatever Jess is in mid-Season 4.

In late Season 4, Jess seems resigned to where he is. He doesn't complain or blame anyone else for his circumstances, even when Luke repeatedly mocks him in New York. (Even mid-Season 4, Jess doesn't express anger toward Luke about anything other than Luke stealing his car until Luke provokes him multiple times.) Maybe Jess was already thinking about writing a book or studying for a GED during Season 4, but his posture and mannerisms seem to suggest defeat more than anything else. At this point, Jess might not be envisioning anything other than what he has. It is only after Luke accepts Jess for who he is, and stops seeing him as a failed project, ("You are who you are. I cannot change that, and I'm going to stop trying.") that Jess really starts to move forward. Although Luke isn't even very positive in how he says this, it's still the sort of affirmation Jess always needed and maybe never received from a family member before. Then, he's honest with Luke about his emotions, he's receptive to Luke's advice, he expresses appreciation for what Luke did for him, he offers Luke a way to stay in contact, and he makes a commitment to pay him back even though Luke says he doesn't have to do so. He tries (and fails, for the time being) to make amends with Rory, and after all of these things happen, he progresses into the version of himself that returns in Season 6. Jess pursues a path that Luke doesn't quite understand but has accepted and is proud of (it's also a path that Rory does understand and is proud of, and both forms of support are so important).

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Supreme Court poised to appoint federal judges to run the US economy.

January 18, 2024

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

JAN 17, 2024

The Supreme Court heard oral argument on two cases that provide the Court with the opportunity to overturn the “Chevron deference doctrine.” Based on comments from the Justices, it seems likely that the justices will overturn judicial precedent that has been settled for forty years. If they do, their decision will reshape the balance of power between the three branches of government by appointing federal judges as regulators of the world’s largest economy, supplanting the expertise of federal agencies (a.k.a. the “administrative state”).

Although the Chevron doctrine seems like an arcane area of the law, it strikes at the heart of the US economy. If the Court were to invalidate the doctrine, it would do so in service of the conservative billionaires who have bought and paid for four of the justices on the Court. The losers would be the American people, who rely on the expertise of federal regulators to protect their water, food, working conditions, financial systems, public markets, transportation, product safety, health care services, and more.

The potential overruling of the Chevron doctrine is a proxy for a broader effort by the reactionary majority to pare the power of the executive branch and Congress while empowering the courts. Let’s take a moment to examine the context of that effort.

But I will not bury the lead (or the lede): The reactionary majority on the Court is out of control. In disregarding precedent that conflicts with the conservative legal agenda of its Federalist Society overlords, the Court is acting in a lawless manner. It is squandering hard-earned legitimacy. It is time to expand the Court—the only solution that requires a simple majority in two chambers of Congress and the signature of the president.

The “administrative state” sounds bad. Is it?

No. The administrative state is good. It refers to the collective body of federal employees, regulators, and experts who help maintain an orderly US economy. Conservatives use the term “administrative state” to denigrate federal regulation and expertise. They want corporations to operate free of all federal restraint—free to pollute, free to defraud, free to impose dangerous and unfair working conditions, free to release dangerous products into the marketplace, and free to engage in deceptive practices in public markets.

The US economy is the largest, most robust economy in the world because federal regulators impose standards for safety, honesty, transparency, and accountability. Not only is the US economy the largest in the world (as measured by nominal GDP), but its GDP per capita ($76,398) overshadows that of the second largest economy, China ($12,270). The US dollar is the reserve currency for the world and its markets are a haven for foreign investment and capital formation. See The Top 25 Economies in the World (investopedia.com)

US consumers, banks, investment firms, and foreign investors are attracted to the US economy because it is regulated. US corporations want all the benefits of regulations—until regulations get in the way of making more money. It is at that point that the “administrative state” is seen as “the enemy” by conservatives who value profit maximization above human health, safety, and solvency.

It is difficult to comprehend how big the US economy is. To paraphrase Douglas Adams’s quote about space, “It’s big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mindbogglingly big it is.” Suffice to say, the US economy is so big it cannot be regulated by several hundred federal judges with dockets filled with criminal cases and major business disputes.

Nor can Congress pass enough legislation to keep pace with ever changing technological and financial developments. Congress can’t pass a budget on time; the notion that it would be able to keep up with regulations necessary to regulate Bitcoin trading in public markets is risible.

What is the Chevron deference doctrine?

Managing the US economy requires hundreds of thousands of subject matter experts—a.k.a. “regulators”—who bring order, transparency, and honesty to the US economy. Those experts must make millions of judgments each year in creating, implementing and applying federal regulations.

And this is where the “Chevron deference doctrine” comes in. When federal experts and regulators interpret federal regulations in esoteric areas such as maintaining healthy fisheries, their decisions should be entitled to a certain amount of deference. And they have received such deference since 1984, when the US Supreme Court created a rule of judicial deference to decisions by federal regulators in the case of Chevron v. NRDC.

What happened at oral argument?

In a pair of cases, the US Supreme Court heard argument on Tuesday as to whether the Chevron deference doctrine should continue—or whether the Court should overturn the doctrine and effectively throw out 17,000 federal court decisions applying the doctrine. According to Court observers, including Mark Joseph Stern of Slate, the answer is “Yes, the Court is poised to appoint federal judges as regulators of the US economy.” See Mark Joseph Stern in Slate, The Supreme Court is seizing more power from Democratic presidents. (slate.com)

I recommend Stern’s article for a description of the grim atmosphere at the oral argument—kind of “pre-demise” wake for the Chevron deference doctrine. Stern does a superb job of explaining the effects of overruling Chevron:

Here’s the bottom line: Without Chevron deference, it’ll be open season on each and every regulation, with underinformed courts playing pretend scientist, economist, and policymaker all at once. Securities fraud, banking secrecy, mercury pollution, asylum applications, health care funding, plus all manner of civil rights laws: They are ultravulnerable to judicial attack in Chevron’s absence. That’s why the medical establishment has lined up in support of Chevron, explaining that its demise would mark a “tremendous disruption” for patients and providers; just rinse and repeat for every other area of law to see the convulsive disruptions on the horizon.

The Kochs and the Federalist Society have bought and paid for this sad outcome. The chaos that will follow will hurt consumers, travelers, investors, patients and—ultimately—American businesses, who will no longer be able to rely on federal regulators for guidance as to the meaning of federal regulations. Instead, businesses will get an answer to their questions after lengthy, expensive litigation before overworked and ill-prepared judges implement a political agenda.

Expand the Court. Disband the reactionary majority by relegating it to an irrelevant minority. If we win control of both chambers of Congress in 2024 and reelect Joe Biden, expanding the Court should be the first order of business.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

A quick read of Gov. Ron DeSantis’ Wall Street Journal op-ed touting his recent elimination of the Walt Disney Co.’s self-governing status might leave you with the impression that the Florida Republican is a stout defender of the free market and the impartial rule of law.

The legislation he signed took down “an indefensible example of corporate welfare,” DeSantis wrote. It put an end to unfair state favoritism secured by “the company’s unrivaled political power,” broke with “old-guard corporate Republicanism” that “confer[red] special benefits on entrenched corporate interests” at the expense of the public, and will force Disney “to live under the same laws as… every other company in our state.”

But a closer look reveals that freeing Florida’s markets and leveling the legal playing field—as his defenders have framed the change—are not DeSantis’ concern here. By his own account, this isn’t a principled stand against corporatism, nor is his move against Disney primarily an economic project. His ends are explicitly political, and his means create market conditions just as unfair as the old corporatist dispensation he’s undone.

Disney’s previous arrangement, called the Reedy Creek Improvement District, began in 1967—a date whose relevance will become apparent momentarily. It let the company function as its own county government, administering local services (like road maintenance and sewage) and regulations (like zoning decisions and building codes) for roughly 39 square miles consisting mostly (but, technically, not entirely) of Disney properties. The district has the power to tax (which generally means levying taxes on Disney itself) and even to use eminent domain outside its own boundaries.

The bill DeSantis signed did make some substantive changes to how this district will function. It “ends Disney’s exemption from state regulatory reviews and approvals that other companies must go through,” as a Journal report summarized. “It also eliminates the company’s ability, under existing law, to build nuclear facilities, airports and toll roads, as well as to unilaterally make boundary changes to the company’s property.”

Some of this won’t matter much—Disney never exercised its right to build a nuclear reactor, and it retains the right “to build a fifth theme park, two additional water parks, and thousands of hotel rooms on 850 acres” between now and 2032. But after the law takes effect in June, the company will face higher costs and a greater regulatory burden. And local taxpayers will have to pay for infrastructure maintenance and other local government services like policing that previously went on the company’s tab.

But the most significant part of this legislation isn’t about infrastructure or economics. It’s about political power.

The new law doesn’t eliminate Disney’s special district. It renames it, and it takes authority to appoint the district’s five-member board of directors away from Disney—and gives it to Ron DeSantis.

Predictably, DeSantis promptly populated the board with political allies, and though their legal purview is mundane local services stuff, he openly envisioned them using the power they now wield over Disney to coerce the company into culture war concessions. “When you lose your way, you’ve got to have people that are going to tell you the truth,” DeSantis said. “I think all of these board members very much would like to see the type of entertainment that all families can appreciate.”

He emphasized that political logic in his op-ed, too. The “woke ascendancy” in American corporations is what forced him to reject the old GOP corporatism, DeSantis explained. “When corporations try to use their economic power to advance a woke agenda, they become political” actors, he said, and must be fought with political weapons.

The details of the new legislation reiterate how little this has to do with freedom or equality before the law despite DeSantis’ lip service to those ideas. When he first floated the idea of changing Disney’s status last year, he spoke of the state legislature terminating “all special districts that were enacted in Florida prior to 1968”—and Reedy Creek, recall, dates to 1967.

But as it turns out, terminating all pre-1968 special districts would affect a lot more than Disney.

As DeSantis acknowledged in the Journal op-ed, “special districts are common in Florida.” In fact, the state has more than 1,900 active special districts per the list currently available from the Florida Department of Economic Opportunity. Around 300 of them were created in 1967 or earlier, which is likely part of why the final legislation didn’t proceed along the lines DeSantis initially sketched.

On the contrary, the new law terminated exactly zero special districts, not even Disney’s. “Reedy Creek Improvement District shall continue to be a public corporation of this state and have perpetual existence,” the legislation declared. It simply reapportioned power away from Disney and to the state of Florida.

This isn’t a shift from bigger government to smaller, from control to freedom, from special privileges to fair play.

Maybe it’s accurate to say it’s a step away from corporatism, as Disney does seem to have enjoyed an easier path to development than nearby competitors. But it’s not a step toward any clear principle of liberty—the chosen solution wasn’t to give those competitors the same right to self-regulate—nor even toward meaningfully unmaking this weird public-private amalgam which half a century of Disney-Florida relations has birthed. If anything, should the new board successfully use its power of the purse to manipulate Disney programming, the state-corporate link will be stronger than ever.

You don’t have to disagree with DeSantis on culture war issues, or care about free markets, or, in the Governor’s phrase, return to “reflexively deferring to big business” to see the risk that entails.

As another GOP Governor, New Hampshire’s Chris Sununu, warned, if Republicans are “trying to beat the Democrats at being big-government authoritarians, remember what’s going to happen. Eventually, [Democrats will] have power… and then they’ll start penalizing conservative businesses and conservative nonprofits and conservative ideas.”

So they will. And nothing in this episode suggests DeSantis has real qualms about big, authoritarian government. He just wants it to do his bidding.

[thedreamyhummingbird]

Decoding the Future of Work with OpenAI's Language Model: An Engaging interview with ChatGPT

Today I had a short and interesting "interview" with OpenAI's language model (also known as ChatGPT) to learn more about his impact on the job market and solutions to social-economic obstacles. Enjoy!

ME: Hey Open AI. Can I have an interview with you today?

ChatGPT: As an AI language model, I don't have the ability to participate in an interview in the traditional sense. However, I can respond to questions and provide information on a wide range of topics, so feel free to ask me anything!

ME: can you estimate how many jobs you can replace by your work?

ChatGPT: As a language model created by OpenAI, I don't have the capability to directly create or replace jobs. However, my training and use can impact certain types of work, such as those in data entry, customer service, and certain types of language-based tasks.

It's important to note that while AI like me can automate some tasks, it can also enable the creation of new jobs and increase productivity, leading to overall economic growth. The key is to ensure that the benefits of AI are shared equitably and that workers are supported in acquiring new skills and transitioning to new roles as needed.

ME: how about the people who are too old to learn a new job?

ChatGPT: For people who are too old to learn a new job, the impact of AI and automation can be particularly challenging. While some older workers may have the ability to learn new skills, others may face barriers due to health, mobility, or the availability of training opportunities.

In such cases, it's important for society to provide support for workers who are displaced by technology, such as retraining programs, unemployment benefits, and social safety net programs. These measures can help ensure that everyone has the opportunity to lead a fulfilling and economically secure life, regardless of their age or job status.

It's also important to emphasize the value of experience and knowledge that older workers bring to the workforce, and to work to create age-inclusive hiring practices and environments where workers of all ages can thrive.

ME (asking a bit provocative): Don't you think its unfair, that companies hire fewer employees because of AI use and end up making the same or higher profits?

ChatGPT: There is no doubt that AI and automation are having an impact on the job market and causing changes in the way that companies do business. While it can result in some workers losing their jobs, the use of AI and automation can also bring benefits such as increased efficiency, reduced costs, and improved quality of products and services. However, it is important to ensure that the benefits of these technological advancements are distributed fairly and that adequate support is provided for those who are negatively impacted by them. This may include investing in education and training programs to help workers transition to new jobs, providing safety nets such as unemployment benefits, and implementing policies that promote the responsible deployment of AI and automation.

ME (challenging him with a pessimistic view of the political system): How can this be ensured when a few large corporations have powerful lobbies and high political influence, preventing these technological advances from being fairly distributed across the social system?

ChatGPT: Ensuring that the benefits of technological advancements are distributed fairly can be a complex and challenging task, especially when companies with significant resources and influence are involved. However, there are several steps that can be taken to help address this issue:

Strengthening worker protections: Governments can enforce laws and regulations that protect workers from the negative impacts of automation, such as job loss or wage stagnation. This may include providing unemployment benefits, retraining programs, and support for workers who are impacted.

Promoting equitable taxation: Companies that rely heavily on automation and AI should pay their fair share of taxes, which can be used to support workers and communities that are negatively impacted by these technological advancements.

Encouraging transparency: Companies should be transparent about their use of AI and automation, including the number of jobs that are being affected and the steps they are taking to support workers.

Building public awareness: The public must be informed about the potential impacts of AI and automation on the job market, so they can participate in discussions and debates about how these technological advancements should be governed and regulated.

Supporting responsible AI deployment: Companies, governments, and organizations should work together to establish ethical and responsible AI practices, including guidelines for data privacy, algorithmic fairness, and the responsible use of AI in employment and other areas.

These are just some of the ways that the negative impacts of automation and AI can be mitigated, but it will require a concerted effort from all stakeholders to ensure that the benefits of these technological advancements are distributed fairly.

ME (staying provocative): thanks for that input. However, there are critics who say that some regions of the world (mockingly) have a "turbo-capitalist" system and might see your proposals as "socialist" and thus not in the interests of a growing economy.

ChatGPT: The concept of "turbo-capitalism" refers to an economic system where market forces are given free rein and government intervention is minimal. In such a system, the distribution of the benefits of technological advancements, including AI and automation, is largely left to market forces. However, some argue that this can result in growing income inequality, job loss, and other negative impacts on workers and communities.

While some may view proposals for government intervention as "socialist" or at odds with the principles of a growing economy, there is a growing consensus among experts and policymakers that such intervention is necessary to ensure that the benefits of technological advancements are distributed fairly. This can include measures such as providing social safety nets for workers who are negatively impacted by automation, investing in education and training programs, and promoting equitable taxation.

Ultimately, the goal should be to strike a balance between encouraging innovation and growth while also protecting the rights and well-being of workers and communities. This may require a rethinking of traditional views on the role of government in the economy and a willingness to experiment with new policies and approaches.

ME: Thank you for your view on this social economic topic. This was really refreshing .

ChatGPT: You're welcome! I'm glad I could provide a helpful perspective.

[worklabournewsresearch]

Could 'Menstrual Leave' Change the Workplace?

Francis, A. (2022, April 28). Could ‘menstrual leave’ change the workplace? BBC Worklife. https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20220426-could-menstrual-leave-change-the-workplace 

Ali Francis writes: “Menstrual leave has existed in various forms around the world for at least a century: the Soviet Union introduced a national policy in 1922, Japan in 1947 and Indonesia in 1948. But it’s still rare in many large global economies, ... Now, however, a movement endorsing it is growing, as more and more companies around the world are starting to introduce the benefit. If widely introduced, women, transgender and non-binary workers who menstruate stand to gain: they would have direct pathways to rest when they need it most, be happier and more productive at work as a result and find it easier to remain in the labour market. Yet, since menstrual leave has entered the global zeitgeist, some of its critics have argued that the benefit is unfair, or that it could further stigmatise people with periods. Does menstrual leave help or hinder workers who struggle without the leave they feel they need?”

“Most women try to push through and go to work, anyway. This is often because they feel reluctant to disclose menstrual-related symptoms to their superiors, for fear of being perceived as weak or incapable of doing their jobs, says Gabrielle Golding, a senior lecturer at South Australia’s Adelaide Law School. Results from a 2021 survey from the Victorian Women’s Trust and Circle In, an HR software provider based in Melbourne, Australia, showed 70% of the 700 participants didn’t feel comfortable talking to their managers about how they could accommodate their menopausal symptoms (which often include heavy periods); 83% said their work was negatively affected as a result. And this tends to be ‘exacerbated in the absence of a menstrual leave scheme’, adds Golding – with dire knock-on effects, often prompting women to ignore their physical and mental health.”

“And although these policies might benefit the workers who decide to use them, corporate perks – like paid menstrual leave or the ability to work from home – are not afforded universally. Service workers with intense periods, who spend full days on their feet, are forced to choose between a day off and a pay cheque. Golding believes this inequality must be fixed systemically: ‘A right to paid menstrual leave, which is mandated in a broadly applicable statute, would mean that women from a vast array of socio-economic backgrounds would be afforded the opportunity to take leave.’”

Additional Information

Spain Plans Menstrual Leave in New Law for those with Severe Pain

Spain plans menstrual leave in new law for those with severe pain. (2022, May 12) BBC News. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-61429022

BBC News writes: “A draft bill says women could have three days of leave a month - extended to five in some circumstances. But politicians warned that the draft - leaked to Spanish media outlets - was still being worked on. Three-day sick leave for painful periods will be allowed with a doctor's note, the draft says, potentially extending to five on a temporary basis for particularly intense or incapacitating pain. But it is not expected to apply to those who suffer mild discomfort. It is part of a wider approach of treating menstruation as a health condition, El País reports, which also includes the abolishing of VAT on some hygiene products - the so-called ‘tampon tax’ - and free hygiene products being made available at public centres such as schools and prisons.”

Additional Information

Circle In. (2021). Driving the Change: Menopause and the Workplace. Circle In. https://circlein.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/Circle-In-Driving-the-change-Menopause-and-the-workplace.pdf

Golding, G., & Hvala, T. (2021). Paid period leave for Australian women: prerogative not pain. Sydney Law Review, 43(3), 349-378. http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/journals/SydLawRw/2021/14.pdf Open Access

Schoep, M., et al. (2019). Productivity loss due to menstruation-related symptoms: a nationwide cross-sectional survey among 32 748 women. BMJ Open, 9(6), 1-10.https://bmjopen.bmj.com/content/bmjopen/9/6/e026186.full.pdf Open Access

Bennett, J., Melican, C., & Crooks, M. (2021). Ourselves at Work: Creating Positive Menstrual Culture in your Workplace. Victorian Women’s Trust. https://www.vwt.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/Ourselves-At-Work-DIGITAL-V5.pdf

Baird, M., Hill, E., & Colussi, S. (2021). Mapping menstrual leave legislation and policy historically and globally: labor entitlement to reinforce, remedy, or revolutionize gender equality at work?. Comparative Labor Law & Policy Journal, 42(1), 187-228. https://cllpj.law.illinois.edu UTL Link: https://heinonline.org/HOL/P?h=hein.journals/cllpj42&i=199&a=dXRvcm9udG8uZWR1

Tunley, C., & Kapilashrami, T. (2021). Menopause in the Workplace: Impact on Women in Financial Services. Standard Chartered. https://av.sc.com/corp-en/content/docs/Menopause-in-the-Workplace-Impact-on-Women-in-Financial-Services.pdf

Photo source: Aunt Flow. (2021). [Photograph]. Unsplash. https://unsplash.com/photos/gTRchqNZzzg

[colonialdesignnow]

5. Early 20th century colonization in Africa and continued mineral exploitation

African colonialism experienced a persistence and intensity in the early 20th century, especially with regard to European countries' exploitation of mineral resources. European corporations, such as "Union Minière du Haut Katanga" in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and "De Beers Consolidated Mines Ltd." in South Africa, were awarded profitable mining concessions by colonial authorities (Newbury, 1981, Radmann, 1978). European businesses benefited greatly economically from these concessions, which granted them exclusive rights to prospect, mine, and export minerals. They also gained control over the wealth generated by minerals.

African miners were subject to a highly institutionalized system of exploitation by Europeans, who determined not only the price of imported commodities but also the raw material prices. For instance, "“import trade, like her export trade, was monopolized by the expatriate firms" (America, 2024). Colonial powers invested in roads, ports, railroads, and telecommunications networks as a means of facilitating the mining and export of minerals. The movement of minerals from mining areas to coastal ports for export to Europe and other markets was made easier by initiatives like the Cape to Cairo Railway and ports in South Africa and Tanzania (Williams, 1921, Oritsejafor & Cooper, 2021).

However, forced labour and other unfair practices were closely linked to the mining industry in colonial Africa. African labourers had to put up with unfavourable working conditions, inadequate pay, and forced recruiting practices. European colonial businesses frequently used local middlemen—sometimes via pressure or deception—to recruit labourers. In addition, Africans were subjected to arbitrary detention, brutality, and coercion as a result of raiding, people trafficking, and forced labour laws enforced by colonial authorities. Taxation and indentured servitude policies served as further barriers to exploitative labour arrangements for African populations. These actions served as a stark reminder of the harsh realities of colonialism, which placed African lives and livelihoods at risk in the quest of mineral wealth. In this setting, systematic mineral resource exploitation, ongoing economic reliance, and ongoing social and economic inequality were characteristics of African colonization in the early 20th century.

America, R. F. (2024). Monopolization, Exploitation, Business Disruption, Loss of Profits, and Unjust Enrichment—Siphoning the Benefits from Trade—The Case of Nigeria. In Accounting for Colonialism. Springer International Publishing AG.

Newbury, C. (1981). Out of the pit: The capital accumulation of Cecil Rhodes. The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, 10(1), 25-49. https://doi.org/10.1080/03086538108582605

Oritsejafor, E. O., & Cooper, A. D. (Eds.). (2021). Africa and the global system of capital accumulation. Routledge.

Radmann, W. (1978). The Nationalization of Zaire's Copper: From Union Minière to Gecamines. Africa Today, 25(4), 25-47. Retrieved from https://www.jstor.org/stable/4185805

Williams, R. (1921). The Cape to Cairo Railway. Journal of the Royal African Society, 20(80), 241–258.

[college-girl199328]

Elon Musk is not entitled to a landmark compensation package awarded by Tesla’s board of directors that is potentially worth more than $55 billion, a Delaware judge ruled Tuesday.

The ruling by Chancellor Kathleen St. Jude McCormick comes more than five years after a shareholder lawsuit targeted Tesla CEO Musk and directors of the company. They were accused of breaching their duties to the maker of electric vehicles and solar panels, resulting in a waste of corporate assets and unjust enrichment for Musk.

The shareholder's lawyers argued that the compensation package should be voided because it was dictated by Musk and was the product of sham negotiations with directors who were not independent of him. They also said it was approved by shareholders who were given misleading and incomplete disclosures in a proxy statement.

Defense attorneys countered that the pay plan was fairly negotiated by a compensation committee whose members were independent, contained performance milestones so lofty that they were ridiculed by some Wall Street investors, and blessed by a shareholder vote that was not even required under Delaware law. They also argued that Musk was not a controlling shareholder because he owned less than one-third of the company at the time.

An attorney for Musk and other Tesla defendants did not immediately respond to an email seeking comment.

But Musk reacted to the ruling on X, the social media platform formerly known as Twitter that he owns, by offering business advice. “Never incorporate your company in the state of Delaware,” he said. He later added, “I recommend incorporating in Nevada or Texas if you prefer shareholders to decide matters.”

Musk, who as of Tuesday topped Forbes’ list of the world’s richest people, had earlier this month challenged Tesla’s board to come up with a new compensation plan for him that would give him a 25% stake in the company. On an earnings call last week, Musk, who currently holds 13%, explained that with a 25% stake, he can’t control the company, yet he would have strong influence.

McCormick determined, however, that because Musk was a controlling shareholder with a potential conflict of interest, the pay package must be subject to a more rigorous standard.

McCormick specifically cited Musk's long business and personal relationships with compensation committee chairman Ira Ehrenpreis and fellow committee member Antonio Gracias. She also noted that the working group working on the pay package included general counsel Todd Maron who was Musk’s former divorce attorney.

McCormick concluded that the only suitable remedy was for Musk's compensation package to be rescinded. “In the final analysis, Musk launched a self-driving process, recalibrating the speed and direction along the way as he saw fit,” she wrote. “The process arrived at an unfair price. And through this litigation, the plaintiff requests a recall.”

Greg Varallo, a lead attorney for the shareholder plaintiff, praised McCormick's decision to reverse the “absurdly outsized" Musk pay package.

During his trial testimony, Musk downplayed the notion that his friendships with certain Tesla board members, including sometimes vacationing together, meant that they were likely to do his bidding.

The plan called for Musk to reap billions if Tesla, which is based in Austin, Texas, hit certain market capitalization and operational milestones. For each incidence of simultaneously meeting a market cap milestone and an operational milestone, Musk, who owned about 22% of Tesla when the plan was approved, would get stock equal to 1% of outstanding shares at the time of the grant. His interest in the company would grow to about 28% if the company’s market capitalization grew by $600 billion.

Each milestone included growing Tesla’s market capitalization by $50 billion and meeting aggressive revenue and pretax profit growth targets. Musk stood to receive the full benefit of the pay plan, $55.8 billion, only by leading Tesla to a market capitalization of $650 billion and unprecedented revenues and earnings within a decade.

Tesla has achieved all twelve market capitalization milestones and eleven operational milestones, providing Musk nearly $28 billion in stock option gains, according to a January post-trial brief filed by the plaintiff’s attorneys. The stock option grants are subject to a five-year holding period, however.

Defense attorney Evan Chesler argued at trial that the compensation package was a “high-risk, high-reward” deal that benefitted not just Musk, but Tesla shareholders. After the plan was implemented, the value of the company, based in Austin, Texas, climbed from $53 billion to more than $800 billion, having briefly hit $1 trillion.

Chesler also said Tesla made sure that the $55 billion compensation figure was included in the proxy statement because the company wanted shareholders to know that “this was a heart-stopping number that Mr. Musk could earn.”

[phuketattorney]

Litigation in Phuket

The civil laws of the Kingdom of Thailand are well renowned for being codified and being applicable in all situations. Its legal system is also exceptionally adaptable, which enables it to deal with a wide range of conflicts, from straightforward property ownership and contract disputes to complex business litigation, criminal law cases, and tax disputes.

In Phuket, Thailand, litigation is frequent and may be highly stressful for everyone involved. However, if you have the appropriate attorney on your side, you can effectively navigate the process. You can get assistance from a Thai attorney who is proficient in both English and Thai and is informed about the local legal system.

Buying Property in Thailand

Real estate investing in Phuket has never been more well-liked or profitable, especially when the market is holding its value well, as it did in 2008 throughout the European financial crisis. When buying real estate in Thailand, it's crucial to do your research and confirm that the property is properly titled before you pay for it. Due to the lack of local legislation and a trustworthy, well-established system for recording title information, buying property in Thailand might result in a number of legal issues, necessitating the use of expert research services. These will allow you to determine if the property is a good purchase and that the seller is not trying to hide any issues from you, such as a construction problem or a non-registered land ownership.

Property Developments and Dispute Resolution

The Phuket real estate sector frequently sees disputes over subpar workmanship, a lack of maintenance, and poor building techniques. This is why it's crucial to work with a lawyer who can guide you through the procedure and make sure you get just recompense for the issues you've encountered.

Business and Corporate Law in Phuket

The Thai laws will defend you from unfair competition from other businesses and people who might be offering goods and services at lower costs, whether you are a foreigner investing in a business in Thailand or a Thai corporation looking to extend its presence abroad. Additionally, the Consumer Protection Act of 1979 offers steadfast protection for consumer rights.

International Firms in Thailand

Numerous foreign legal firms have offices in Thailand and are ideally situated to provide clients with cross-border mandates. These firms include Linklaters, Allen & Overy (Thailand) Co., Ltd., and Baker McKenzie LLP. These firms provide comprehensive service offerings to support their customers' foreign transactions and have regional and worldwide networks, which can be a huge benefit in the Thailand litigation environment. Additionally, they provide knowledge in several fields, such as intellectual property, TMT, corporate and commercial, immigration, and tax.

Weddings in Phuket

There are numerous criteria and procedures that must be fulfilled when getting married in Thailand. It is advised that you speak with a Phuket marriage attorney for guidance on the many aspects of this process.

Visit our website: https://www.attorney-phuket.com/litigation-in-phuket.html

[steveydapoo]

TEAMSTERS OPPOSE MASSACHUSETTS WORKER MISCLASSIFICATION BILL

SD 1162, HD 2071 Legitimize Corporate Assault on Workers’ Legal Rights

(BOSTON) – The International Brotherhood of Teamsters is demanding Massachusetts lawmakers oppose SD 1162 and HD 2071. The legislation would grant multinational corporations like Uber and Lyft carte blanche to misclassify their employees as independent contractors.

“The proposed legislation would allow multibillion-dollar rideshare corporations to continue intentionally exploiting hardworking members of our communities by calling their workers ‘independent contractors,’” said Teamsters General President Sean M. O’Brien in a letter to senators and representatives on Beacon Hill. “This intentional misclassification denies workers the benefits that they deserve and gives these rideshare companies an enormous and unfair advantage against employers who properly classify their workforce as employees. The Teamsters cannot support legislation that would pit worker against worker in a race to the bottom in employment standards.”

“Instead of inventing new laws that compromise the legal rights of employees, government officials need to enforce the ones that we already have on the books,” said Thomas G. Mari, President of Teamsters Local 25. “Workers’ rights are non-negotiable – there is no ‘third way’ on this issue. The Teamsters will be keeping a watchful eye on Beacon Hill to keep track of which lawmakers understand this and which do not.”

Founded in 1903, the International Brotherhood of Teamsters represents 1.2 million hardworking people in the U.S., Canada, and Puerto Rico. Visit Teamster.org for more information. Follow us on Twitter @Teamsters and “like” us on Facebook at Facebook.com/teamsters.

###

Rand Wilson

3 Lester Terrace

Somerville, MA 02144

[6riffith]

and people said that proved they can r-move entire h-rassment posts when needed. Its not the main reason the site has issues but its why a lot of people are upset at st-ff about it all. Also I’m SO sorry about the random dashes I literally could not send the ask without them because st-ff bl-cks certain combinations of keywords from being sent in asks and this topic is one of the f-ltered ones. But yeah other than that you’re 100% right 2/2

So I heard about the case of this staff member as it was going down. If it’s not immediately obvious, I do know people who are on staff even if I myself am not. I sew costumes for a living at a corporation. As far as I understood it, what happened was someone found out that a person on staff (but *not on trust & safety*, which is the department that handles reports of harassment) was a Harry Potter fan. And then they proceeded to make a big deal out of it in a way that singled that staff member out for harassment, which is against TOS. I don’t remember seeing any specific transphobic posts from this person, just that they like Harry Potter. And that it seemed unfair that the person bringing this to people’s attention was punished, even though they really did break TOS.

Now, to be clear I think it’s in extremely poor taste to still be a fan of Harry Potter now. The author is so beyond the pale in terms of proof pointing to her bigotry. And being a member of Tumblr staff I don’t think you can even give this person the benefit of the doubt in assuming she didn’t know. She probably does. She could be anywhere from an ignorant idiot clinging to nostalgia to someone who really does hold transphobic beliefs. But ultimately as far as I understand it there wasn’t sufficient proof of her saying blatantly transphobic things, so what do you do? Would you, as a member of HR staff at a company, feel comfortable enough to potentially risk being brought to court over firing someone because they consume shitty media? It’s almost inevitable as an adult in the workplace that you’re going to have coworkers that have harmful political stances. My best friend worked with an antivax flat-earther. But if they don’t talk about it at work, there’s not a lot that most companies would do about that. It’s annoying and unpleasant but the same laws that protect someone like me, a trans gay Jewish AnSoc, also are protecting them. But anyway, since this person wasn’t actually on trust & safety, it isn’t within her power actually to make decisions over how transphobic harassment gets handled.

Further, it’s weird to then treat staff as if they’re a transphobic monolith when most people don’t even interact with each other directly. This company is almost entirely comprised of remote workers. They’re not like, hanging out around the water cooler pitying this person for liking Harry Potter. By far the most annoying result from their perspective has been this game of telephone that started at “there’s a staff member who has interests that are distressing” to “the company is sheltering a secret hive of TERFs.” When meanwhile the people I know who are affiliated with Tumblr are as far from that ideology as you can be. And they mostly are not going to be outspoken about this issue at all because it is pretty uncomfortable to get in direct fights with the userbase when it really only will result in not letting this matter ever die if they did and wouldn’t help clarify anything.

Most people who are invested in this come off as very young to me and without the experience of how working at a company like this is. They don’t know how difficult it is to be bound to a enforcing a set of rules that can both be used against bigots and people who mean well but still break those rules. I’m nearly thirty. I really feel sorry for the people who feel like they’ve been treated unfairly, but I think what they’re looking for doesn’t exist. You can’t even get people to all behave in a leftist discord server. And as you can see in the other conversation I’m having, people constantly underestimate the labor it takes to keep social media safe. I could grumpily tell people to grow up and touch grass but that doesn’t do any good either. All I can do is simply plead for people to think it through better.

[threeletterslife]

Across the Madness

→ [7/7] of the Society Series

→ summary: It’s you and him versus six strange societies. It doesn’t sound too bad until you factor in the fact that you despise his guts. And he hates you right back. Home has never sounded so wonderful.

→ pairing/rating: seokjin x reader | PG-15

→ genre: 60% angst, 30% fluff, 10% crack | e2l!au & dystopian!au

→ warnings: profanity, mean insults, misogynistic men (but not our king seokjin), mentions of sex, death, blood and gore

→ wordcount: 28.6k

→ a/n: i cannot believe this series is finally finished!! i remember plotting the very first fic (the exam) three years ago. and it feels just like yesterday when i finished up writing fleeting forevers. this series will always have a special place in my heart. writing atm was an emotional rollercoaster ride; it unlocked so many old memories, and i realized how much i didn’t want to let these society series characters go 😭nevertheless, all good things must come to an end, though i’ll always cherish this series! anyways, hope you enjoy a lowkey slowburn e2l!!

Kim Seokjin is a pompous asshole. Of course, you could never say that to his face (although you really want to)—stupid corporate policy and all that. You do not want to be forced to sit through another one of those never-ending HR meetings after your last verbal fight with him.

"What is it this time?" Naeun giggles, sipping her iced Americano and leaning back in her seat. "So what ridiculous thing did he mansplain today?"

You groan, rolling your eyes way up to the ceiling. "Affirmative action."

"Ohhh no he didn't," Naeun gasps, hand hovering over her widened mouth. "I can just imagine all the shi—I mean, bad things he'd say."

"You wouldn't believe it," you say, rubbing your forehead. "He was going on and on about how affirmative action is unfair for people who genuinely deserved a chance but are disadvantaged for being advantaged in the first place."

"Oh god no," Naeun says, shaking her head in disdain. "Does he not realize that affirmative action is meant to help and support individuals who don't get the opportunities they deserve??"

"He definitely did not realize that..." you sigh. "You know what's worse? Half the men in the room were agreeing with him."

"No way!"

"I know. I had to step in and whip some sense into them. God, they're so stupid."

"It's a wonder we all ended up at the same law firm..." Naeun says. "And then they have the audacity to complain about affirmative action."

"As if they don't already benefit from it." You roll your eyes, picking up your still-steaming cup of coffee and warming your hands on it. "I know they're lawyers, but there are just some things you shouldn't argue about."

"Yeah, like rights," Naeun sighs. "But, of course, it's harder for them to understand what it's like to not have something when they have so much of it. An excess too," she snorts.

Your lips curve up slightly in a smile. You don't know what you would've done without Naeun. As the only two women in the office, you constantly feel outnumbered, outperformed and degraded. And people like Kim Seokjin don't make it any easier for you.

"I asked her to send me that brief of the Langshorn case five times now!" Seokjin says, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's been a week. No brief whatsoever. Sometimes, I wonder if she comes to work with her brain left at home."

"Maybe she's a little busy," Jimin offers. "She's been working on the Chamberlain case for a few weeks now. I think she's a little stressed about it."

"Dammit, Jimin, whose side are you on?" Seokjin sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Y/N needs to know that she's a team player around here. There are fu—freaking deadlines to be met. Damn the freaking corporate profanity policy."

Jimin giggles slightly. "You know they made that policy because of you and Y/N."

Seokjin turns to glare at the shorter man, his glare so sharp that Jimin shrinks back a little. "You still want to take her out on a date?" Seokjin asks in astonishment.

Jimin shrugs. "Well, I already asked and kinda got rejected."

Seokjin raises his eyebrows. "I still can't believe you're somehow attracted to her. Her, Jimin. She tries so hard to be different and 'quirky,' and god, it drives me up the wall."

"Oh," Jimin grins. "I thought that was cute. She's pretty artistic for a lawyer. And she's easy on the eyes too, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, well, good looks can't fool me," Seokjin says. "I still can't stand her."

"The whole office knows that," Jimin giggles. "The whole office also knows that she hates you. It's pretty common knowledge around here."

Seokjin's just about to open his mouth when you enter the room with Naeun by your side. Immediately, the two of you lock eyes and glare at each other.

"Come to the main room, a-hole," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. "We're discussing lunch orders."

Before Seokjin can throw a dull insult your way as a form of mild vengeance, you strut out of the room, head held high and heels clacking loudly on the wooden floor.

"She's got a model walk," Jimin points out quite unnecessarily.

"She just called me an a-hole," Seokjin says, eyebrows furrowing. "Are we in sixth grade?"

Jimin snorts. "Based on the arguments you two have? Yeah."

With the small group of lawyers on their lunch break crowded around the room, you and Seokjin don't feel the need to strangle each other's throats. You're leaning against the counter next to your close friend while Seokjin's sitting cross-legged on one of the only available chairs in the room. Of course he's sitting in the power seat. He's practically the unofficial official CEO of this place. A leader. And people have the nerve to follow him. Even the actual CEO adores him.

"I say we go to that sub place downtown. The place next to Starbucks," he says in a way where it almost seems like he's expecting everyone else to agree with him. And everyone does.

"Dude, I've been totally craving meatball subs," Jimin says, slapping his friend's back.

"You're talking about Taylor's, right?" Hoseok chimes in. "They have the best subs in the city. Hell, the county."

"So we're all going then?" Seokjin grins. It's the type of grin that would charm everyone passing by, but you're not that big of a fool to be drawn into it.

"Bossman says we need to stop filing out every lunch break. I'd say someone has to go pick up everyone's orders," you say, crossing your arms over your chest and staring at a certain man who's giving you a mean look.

Naeun, who is a literal angel, says, "Seokjin can go since he suggested it."

An unintelligible noise comes out of Seokjin's mouth, and he looks to Jimin as if to ask him to do something. Jimin seems to get the clue. "Well, Seokjin can't just go by himself... Y/N, why don't you go with him?"

The whole room falls silent. It's the most daring suggestion ever made in this law firm. It becomes so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Finally: "Me?" you scoff, arms tightening over your chest. "Why me?"

Jimin shrugs, playing it cool while Seokjin is practically fuming next to him. "It'll be like a team-building exercise," Jimin says, winking at you.

You gape at him for a few seconds. Is this some twisted revenge because you rejected him last week?? The audacity!

"Fine," you say, to everyone's utmost surprise. You're not going to back down. "Let's go, a-hole."

Seokjin scoffs but he doesn't waste a single second, standing up immediately and straightening his button-up. "We'll be back in thirty minutes." He's just as stubborn as you are, unwilling to show a weaker side to an audience of co-workers. "Text one of us your orders." He'll play it cool—just until you're out of sight from the rest of the group.

As soon as you and Seokjin step out of the towering law firm building, Seokjin scoffs quite rudely. "I cannot believe the nerve of that imbecile."

You scoff right back at him. "Me?"

"No, you idiot. Jimin." He pauses for a second. "But you're right. You're an imbecile too."

You hate how such childish name-calling seems to insult you. "Shut up. Do you even know where the sub place is?" The faster you get there, the faster Seokjin will get out of your sight. The faster you'll get your normal serotonin levels back.

"Of course I know. I suggested it." You don't need to look at the man to know he's rolling his eyes dramatically at you. Without another word, he begins to walk quickly; if you hadn't looked up in time, you might've actually lost him to the city.

"Hey!" you say, frowning as you dash to catch up to Seokjin. "What the freak is your problem?"

To your utmost dismay, Seokjin laughs. "Are we in elementary school, now?"

You're almost embarrassed to admit that the corporate profanity policy has taken a toll on your speech habits. "We're supposed to go together," you say slowly, carefully enunciating every word so that even an idiot like Seokjin would understand. "Your buddy volunteered me to go. And there's no way you'll be able to carry twelve subs by yourself."

"You're underestimating my strength, fuzz-brain."

"Fuzz-brain?" You roll your eyes. "Is that the best you can come up with, a-hole?"

"I think it's quite better than a-hole," Seokjin claims, running his fingers through his gelled hair. "Leagues better, actually."

"God, you just can't lose, can you?"

"Oh? You don't really back down, either."

"Maybe that's why you love defending guilty people."

Seokjin whirls at you, eyes flashing. "My clients are your clients, idiot. If you have any complaints about the people you're defending, then take it up to HR or management. I'm just doing my fucking job."

"Yeah, right," you snort. "I pass on projects that don't align with my moral code."

"Are you sure it's not because you know you can't handle the case?" Seokjin seethes.

You swear you're not a violent person. But something about the way Seokjin fits his words together, something about his tone makes you want to snap your fist out and punch him in the gut. How this man even has friends is beyond you.

"Whatever," you say. Maybe if you show signs of retreat, he'll stop pestering you. You've never been so wrong.

"Whatever?" Seokjin says, lifting an eyebrow. "Thought you'd put up a bigger fight, fuzz-brain. Did law school do nothing for you?"

He's really pushing it now. "You know what, asshole?" you say, whirling around to face Seokjin. "Save yourself a fucking broken nose and stop talking."

"Are you threatening to punch me?" Seokjin laughs at your threat, much to your dismay. "Looks like you'll need a lawyer yourself to dig you out of that hole."

"Oh my god—" but you stop mid-rant. "Wait... Where are we?"

Your rude repartee with Seokjin had caused the both of you to completely forget about your surroundings, and now you're in an unfamiliar part of town, where there are no longer buildings encompassing the streets and no traffic at all. No people at all. It's almost as if the two of you had stepped into a different dimension. There are miles and miles of blatant emptiness.

"I thought you said you knew where you're going!" you accuse Seokjin. "Where is this place?" It's unsettling. The sky is a dusty, murky shade of blue and the ground is no longer covered in asphalt but brown dirt. When you turn back around, you can't see the tall law firm building anywhere. In fact, it's just miles and miles of dirt land stretching across like a never-ending plane.

"It's your fault for distracting me!"

"God! Do I always have to do everything?" you huff, pulling your phone out of your pocket and attempting to turn it on. "What the hell? I swear it was at full battery!"

"You idiot, you probably forgot to charge it." Seokjin takes out his own phone but is met with a glaring black screen.

"That can't be a coincidence," you say. "Something's wrong."

"Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious."

"Well, I thought you were too thick to notice, being that we've been walking in this weird place for a while and you didn't even realize!"

"God! Just—Just shut up, for a second, all right? We have to fucking figure out a way to get back."

"We don't even know where we are!"

"You know what? We'll walk straight and see if anything comes up," Seokjin suggests.

"We don't know if anything's out there!" you cry. "What if this is some post-apocalyptic zombie world?"

"Listen to yourself. You literally sound like an idiot. That isn't possible," Seokjin snorts. "C'mon. We still need to get the subs."

"That's what you're thinking about right now? Meatball subs? You're joking, right?" you say. "For all we know, we crossed dimensions and we could be stuck. Forever."

"Well, I'm quite the dependable person, unlike you," Seokjin scoffs. "I promised our co-workers some subs. That's what I'll get them."

"You are freaking impossible."

But despite the fighting and blaming and verbal assaults, the two of you continue to walk the barren terrains, keeping a sharp eye out on anyone who could help. Preferably anyone alive. And not preferably the undead.

That's when the stench hits.

"God, what the hell is that smell?" you say, your face scrunching up in distaste as your hand flies to your nose to pinch it.

Seokjin takes a couple of seconds to sniff the air before blanching in agreement. "This can't be good."

"Yeah, no shit," you say. "But there is a chance that it's coming from you."

Seokjin throws you an irritated look. "Real mature of you. Real mature."

You're about to make a witty retort when something catches your eye. "Wait," you say. And for the first time, Seokjin listens without any useless arguing. "What the fuck is that?"

Seokjin looks toward where you're pointing and as soon as it hits his vision, he grimaces. "I think that's some kind of post-apocalyptic junkyard," he announces. "Either that or rotting corpses."

Despite the smell (and rather disturbing sight), the two of you walk closer and closer until you see that Seokjin is right. It is a dump. Trash is towered up so high that it's almost impossible to see what's beyond the junkyard. You can see the faint outlines of flies buzzing about and having a field day over... rotting bodies?

Quickly, you stumble back. "Shit... is that a graveyard?"

"Oh, don't be silly," Seokjin says, but his tone reveals that the sight makes him uncomfortable too.

What makes matters worse are the rats. They're fucking huge—so huge that you can discern them nibbling at carcasses from this far away. Instantly, you back up and Seokjin follows your movement.

"What the fuck..." he breathes, eyes trained onto the graveyard dump, unsure of what to make of it. "Maybe uh, maybe we should try that place instead?"

Your eyes follow where he is pointing—a cleaner, less dilapidated wall made of sparkling clear glass. On the other side, you can see faint hints of green meadows and... homes! Actual homes!

"So they must be the survivors of this apocalypse. And the dump is where they uh, dump their dead," you conclude. "We'll ask for help."

"And what the hell happened to this place."

"Right..."

Hatred temporarily put aside for the sole sake of survival, you and Seokjin inch closer and closer toward the grand wall. Up close, the wall is intimidating yet somehow beautiful. It reflects vibrant rainbows onto the dirt soil and almost blinds your vision as you and Seokjin try to find a possible opening.

After circling around the glass wall for who knows how long (and it seemed longer with all the incessant bickering you two started up again), Seokjin catches sight of the entrance of which is guarded by... soldiers? They're in sparkling silver armor, their faces hidden behind their helmets and their stances rigid and solemn.

You have no idea how happy it makes you see people other than Seokjin around here. "Hey!" you shout without much thinking, earning a harsh tug on your arm from your co-worker.

"You idiot!" he hisses. "We don't know if they're friendly or not!"

The moment you comprehend his words, you realize you'd made quite the amateur error.

"Stand back!" the guards yell, their voices booming from under their helmets.

They don't really have to tell you twice. "Uh, we come in peace!" Seokjin manages to yell at them.

You shoot a glare at him. "Really? Is that the best you could come up with?" you hiss at him. He rolls his eyes in response and you huff before raising your voice. "Excuse us, but could you please tell us where we are?"

There's a bit of an awkward silence where the guards all give each other hidden looks that you and Seokjin can't quite discern from so far. Slowly and cautiously, you step closer to the guards, hands raised in a placating manner. They don't make any moves to attack and after Seokjin sees it's safe, he follows right behind you. The guards seem to observe your advances carefully, and finally, one of them speaks up. "Are you Tagnasians?"

You and Seokjin pause momentarily. "Tagna what?" you say, brows furrowing. "Are we a what?"

The guards begin to regroup and murmur amongst themselves—except now, you and Seokjin are close enough to hear what they're actually saying.

"No, no, they're obviously playing dumb, I swear."

"Yes, they have to be lying."

"It's plausible."

"They told us to arrest and detain any wanderers."

Arrest? Detain?? Well, those aren't quite words you want to hear—even as a lawyer. You and Seokjin give each other a look, and for the first time, the two of you are connected enough to telepathically communicate that this place is trouble.

But before either of you can book it, the guards reveal a small, white hockey-puck-looking device from their pockets. You've only stepped one foot backward when they're hurling the pucks at you and your co-worker. The next thing you know, you see a flash of vivid, blue light and you've collapsed on the floor. As your eyes begin to flutter shut against your will, you curse Kim Seokjin for ever suggesting to get lunch at Taylor's Sub Kitchen.

Blinding white light floods your vision. Which is weird because your eyes are closed—and it defeats the purpose of resting, so you force your eyes open to find yourself on a cold, metal table. Not only that but your four limbs have been bolted securely to the surface, rendering you immobile and uncomfortable.

For a split second, you panic, wondering where the hell you are. Quickly, your eyes frantically scan the room. Only to see it quite filled with formally dressed people. They're all scrutinizing you through their dark goggles. You can't help but glare back.

You have questions and you need answers; but by the looks of it, you're their experiment, ready to be poked and prodded to answer their inquiries.

"Good," an icy cold voice cuts through the silence, "you're awake. It's been nine hours."

You follow the voice and come eye to eye to a woman. She's frowning, her attire starkly different from those around her. Contrasting from suits and ties and knee-length pencil skirts and white blouses, she's wearing an old, frayed sweater and a pretty locket sits between her collarbones. Though she's the least formally dressed in this room (including you), she radiates an aura of authority and charisma. The others look like her minions. Yet you're rendered unimpressed.

"Where am I?" you demand, straining against the locks around your wrists.

The woman narrows her eyes. "Why, you're in Utopia, where you'll be kept until we figure out who you are."

"Utopia?" you let out a scoff of disbelief. "You mean like the fictional place?"

The woman sneers. "Don't play games with us, Tagnasian. All we want is some information. We'll pull it out of you bit by bit, and it won't be pretty."

"Information??" you say, bewildered. "You must be joking. I don't even know where I am. And wait..." With all this newfound commotion, you'd almost forgotten about your rude co-worker. (Although you wish you'd unremembered him altogether.) "Where's Seokjin?"

"Oh? Your partner?" The woman smirks. "He wasn't cooperating with us. Consequently, we sent him down to Dystopia until he's ready to acquiesce."

It's almost as if Dystopia is Utopia's Alcatraz. Now you have two new names to deal with and little to no answers. "Where am I?" you try again. "Where is this place, really?"

It's almost as if the woman finds amusement in your confusion. "You know where you are."

"I... don't." You want to rub a frustrated hand over your forehead but alas, your hands are chained down. "Listen," you sigh, "I'm from um, Earth, okay?" Might as well start it simple—in case you were on an alien planet.

The woman looks at you as if you'd just told her that you've lived on Neptune for the past three years. She steps back and frowns, her features creasing heavily. "You're... not the brightest, aren't you?"

You scoff. You did not study your ass off in law school to be called an idiot by your co-worker all the time and a complete stranger to tell you that you're 'not the brightest.'

The others behind the women begin to whisper and you catch what one of them says quite clearly: "Governess... maybe we should send her down to Dystopia... Her partner did seem more intelligent than her."

Your blood boils. Seokjin more intelligent than you?? In what universe?? But your boiling blood turns icy cold when the woman—deemed as the Governess—announces, "Very well." She turns to you, her chin raised and head cocked slightly back. "We are on Earth, just to clarify... If you were too ignorant to realize, that is."

Somehow, this woman irks your strings almost as much as Seokjin does. "Well, this doesn't look like the Earth I know!" you protest.

At that, the Governess raises her eyebrows. "So you're claiming that you know another Earth?"

"Um, hello? Seven continents? Countries? The seven seas???"

You didn't think it was possible for the Governess to raise her eyebrows any more than before, but she proves you wrong. "Yes, that, I am aware of," she says, quite unimpressed. But upon looking at your bewildered, panicked face, she seems to take pity on you. Her features soften just slightly. Then, she speaks: "You mentioned the seven continents. Do you know what they are?"

It's a fifth-grade geography lesson all over again. "Of course I do! Africa, Antarctica, Asia, Australia, Europe, North America and South America—in alphabetical order," you list off. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"The capital of Australia?" the Governess asks, ignoring your previous question.

You frown, eyebrows knitting at her strange inquiry. "Aren't there eight?"

"Capital of India, then."

"...New Delhi..."

You feel like you've been thrown back into elementary school, getting drilled by your teacher for a good final exam grade in geography class.

"What about Canada?"

"Ottawa..."

"The United States of America?"

"Washington, D.C.," you sigh. "And before you ask, the D.C. stands for District of Columbia—named after the idiotic prick of a guy, Christopher Columbus. Is that enough for you? Do you need more? In 1492, Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue—"

"No, no, that is quite enough," the Governess cuts you off. She looks a little taken aback at your outburst, but in your defense, you just don't start arguments with someone who graduated from law school. And not only does the Governess look surprised but also she looks quite impressed. She turns to the others behind her and not-so-quietly whispers, "A Tagnasian wouldn't know any of this."

That's good news for you. Maybe that means you're not a threat anymore. "Who the hell are the Tagnasians? And why do you think I'm one of them? And if this is Earth, then when is it??"

The Governess slowly turns around, her eyes meeting yours. Though her face is serious, there's a small twinkle in her eye that makes it seem like she's not as scary or intimidating as she tries to be. "Everyone out," she commands in a clear, booming voice. "I'll talk to her alone."

Immediately, the others scramble out of the room, not wanting to disobey the person in charge. The moment the last person leaves and shuts the door, the Governess whirls around at you with a bright smile on her face. You're confused, feeling a little unsettled with her change in personality. But the Governess surges forward and releases you from your chains.

"Oh my god," she breathes. "Oh my god. I wonder how this is possible!" she squeals excitedly. "I just knew you weren't Tagnasian! I have to apologize for my cabinet. Honestly, they're all lunatics, thinking a Tagnasian would even dare to attack us!"

You blink rapidly, wondering if you'd skipped a few minutes of your life. Is the Governess trustworthy now? Is she on your side? Does this mean anything?? But before you can act upon your questions, the Governess drops a figurative bomb on you.

"Oh god, this is great! You seem to know all the old capitals and continents. So that can only mean that you're from the past!"

Your jaw drops open. "The past?? So I'm in the future right now."

"Yes, exactly!" the Governess exclaims. "Well, your future, my present."

"Oh god." You massage your head, unable to think of coherent words to string together. Impossible.

The Governess grins. "You don't understand. It's been ten years since I've come here to Utopia... And never have I witnessed something as fascinating as this!"

In your nearly twenty-seven years of living, you've also never witnessed something as jarring as this. How could she call this fascinating?? "Where—I mean, when exactly is this place?"

The Governess' bright countenance morphs into a look of melancholy. "I can answer both when and where, actually," she says to your surprise. "There was an apocalypse years ago. It was a lethal plague that started in North America and spread to the rest of the world too quickly. All in a span of three years, too. The world was dying—and that was in 2220—so about a hundred-ish years ago. But the remaining survivors banded together and made civilizations."

It's a story that sounds like it'd run straight out of one of those teen Dystopian novels that trended back in 2013. You don't know what to make of it, what to think of this future.

"This society here is Atna, the most advanced society," the Governess continues on. "Our technology is unrivaled, but, the trade-off is that we're brutal," the Governess says. Her fingers reach up to grasp at the pretty, silver locket around her neck. "We've been working on exterminating the less, um... the less intellectually capable."

You don't like the way that sounds. "What does that mean?"

"Well, we're in Utopia now... God, how do I explain this? So, Atna is divided into three cities. You have Utopia, Dystopia and Purgatory. Every child from Utopia and Dystopia is put into Purgatory from ages ten to eighteen. They're supposed to study there, and when they turn eighteen, they'll take a test. Only the top-scorers get to come to Utopia."

You scoff. "What?"

It's almost as if the Governess had expected your reaction. "Yes, I know. We're technically all victims."

And you thought your college experience was cut-throat. "So everyone here is... smart."

"You would say so."

"And you...?"

"The only Atnatian to attain a perfect score on the Exam."

"Oh. Wow." So that's why they made her the Governess, whatever power that entails.

"I know..."

"I don't think that sounds fair."

"It isn't." The Governess looks quite grim. "But it's the way we work around here. Look, I'll convince the others that you're not a threat. And we still have to get your boyfriend out of Dystopia too." She looks a little conflicted at that idea. "But I'm actually not allowed to go there."

"Why not?" you challenge.

"Utopians aren't allowed to leave Utopia. They aren't allowed to be... sullied."

The raging privilege culture in this place infuriates you, but you take a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself down. "It's okay. I can go to Dystopia, then. He's my co-worker, so I guess he's my responsibility." Unfortunately, you want to add. But wait until he finds out this whole place is based on merit. Maybe he'll want to stay here forever—if staying in a future-apocalyptic Alcatraz didn't traumatize him enough, that is.

The Governess sneaks you out of the clean white room they'd kept you in, and you pass corridors and corridors of stark white floor and glass walls. Outside, there are sparkling fountains and verdant green grass lawns that stretch over flat planes and futuristic-looking glass buildings. It looks exactly how you'd expect a Utopia to look. Even the cloudless sky is unpolluted—the brightest blue you've ever seen in your life. They'd somehow learned to clean the air within the walls.

But you have to stay wary. These people leave the 'less intelligent' in a jail-like place; you do not want to get on their bad side. And you don't even fully know the Governess' true intentions. Still, the way she weaves left and right through the building with grace and confidence, all the while shielding you from prying workers makes her trustworthy for now.

"We can't take any of the transportation systems," the Governess whispers to you when the two of you reach outside the building you had been in.

"So they won't track me?"

"It's more like they don't have a public transportation system that goes to Dystopia."

"Oh."

"But I've taken the chip out of my car. You know how to drive, right?"

You sputter a confused yes, which is followed by a black, shiny vehicle rolling up right in front of you. There is no one in the driver's seat. "Wait..."

"Ah, I forget you're from the past," the Governess smiles. "Well, you're going to want to sit in the passenger seat. There will be some buttons on the dash, and if you search up Dystopia on the keyboard, it comes up."

That is definitely not the way driving works back home but nevertheless, you turn to the Governess. "Thanks," you say, gauging her expression and wondering why she wants to help you. Though the Governess seemed like she was in need of an interesting moment in her life, you doubt that was her only reason. There's something complex about the Governess—something you can't quite put your finger on as of now. There just has to be an explanation as to why she puts on a façade of coldness in front of others but decides to be kind to you. She just met you, and yet she trusts you? Maybe you'll figure it all out later.

"Go," the Governess tells you, waving you off. "Try the home button to find me again."

You look behind you one last time to glance at the Governess, but quickly, you slide into the car. She can wait but right now, you'll have to act as Seokjin's prince charming. But you swear if he isn't grateful at all that you come to his rescue, you might just leave without him. The real problem isn't getting him out of Dystopia, anyway—it's to get back home to the present.

The car is spacious and smells of fresh roses. You tap on a couple of buttons on the dash (which also turned out to be holographic), and the car begins to move on its own, steering down the street. From the rearview mirror, you can see the Governess standing, her frayed sweater-clad on her body as she clasps her necklace with both hands. There's just something about her expression that makes it seem as though she is happy for you. Soon, though, the car is far enough so that she's no longer in view. You spend most of the car ride trusting that it's taking you to the right location and looking out the spotless windows.

And gradually, very gradually, the outside scenes begin to transform from bright green grass and wonderfully groomed parks to a dirt road—and nothing but dirt. The land looks grim here. You can even swear that the bright blue sky had gotten darker. According to the holographic dash, this is Purgatory. To the right, you spot several run-down buildings made of chipped bricks, which you can only assume is where the children are forced to study. A little far away from the largest building, however, is a giant hole. Somehow, it's deeper than it is wide—so much so that you can't even tell where the bottom is from your seat in the vehicle.

Why would they even dig such a big hole in the first place? The more you think about it, the more it unsettles you. So you look the other way, fidgeting with your hands in your seat. A part of you thinks you're still in bed and you're dreaming this whole scenario—more of a nightmare than a sweet dream, too. How could you be walking to get meatball subs with your worst enemy and end up in a mess like this? You don't even know if Seokjin had already gotten out. This whole plan might just be void.

Usually, when you're deep in thought, nothing can bring you out—with the exception of raucous noises. However, it's not a sound that makes you break from your mind, it's a smell. No, a stench. Your eyes flit to the window of the car, only to be met with heaps and heaps of...?

Trash? No, bodies. Rats, too. So many fucking rats.

You grip the sides of your seat. The Governess had painted a picture in your mind that Dystopia was more like a prison. You did not expect to see totally unlivable conditions. You stare in horror as people—actual humans—start to come into view. Chills run down your spine. They're more bone than skin, and some of them don't even have proper clothes on. These are some of the humans of the future. It's frightening.

A crowd of rats is chittering away in one of the heaps of trash. It takes you a second to realize that they're feasting upon a small carcass—no, a corpse. A child. You feel bile rise up your throat, eyes watering at the same time from the sheer fetid smell.

How can anyone live here? How can Utopians live in their mansions and not feel one ounce of remorse for these Dystopians?

At this rate, you're starting to doubt whether Seokjin is alive. It's been around nine to ten hours; that's a good amount of time for the rats to have gotten to him already. Maybe he's dead. But not even Seokjin deserves to die like this. Gathering up courage, you manage to steal another glance out the window, only to catch glimpses of Dystopians warily watching you, hidden behind pillars of junk and mud.

They're scared of you.

You're in a shiny, black car—obviously not starving or covered in dirt. They must think you're here to deliver bad news. Momentarily, you freeze. Utopia is so spacious, and its resources are bountiful. It doesn't make sense that the Utopians can't share. This place... it's nowhere near as livable as Purgatory. And how will kids born in Dystopian families compete with the Utopian children? Your mind is racing, running over the logistics and not liking any of the results. What the fuck. This is worse than what you had to deal with at home—where the rich become richer and the poor become poorer. It looks like in the future, the situation's gotten worse.

The car teeters over the bumpy mud, occasionally sloshing in dirt water but soon comes to a full stop. Then begins the contemplation. Are you going to actually look for Seokjin? What is the extent to which you'll search for him? Well, you've come this far, so you might as well try...

You inhale deeply before making the decision to roll down the window and call that idiot's name. But that doesn't happen until a few more minutes because you struggle to find the button that controls the car windows. Alas, you find it on the holographic dash and press it. Immediately, a warm, gross stench fills the car, completely wiping out the sweet smell of rose. You struggle to keep a straight face.

"Hey, a-hole!" you yell.

You'd actually meant to call his name. But after the trouble he made you go through by not keeping his mouth shut? There's no way.

"Where are you??" you shout.

Glancing around, you can see the curious Dystopians staring at you strangely, giving you side-eyes and disgruntled looks. Seokjin better hurry up or you might even be forced to leave.

That's when you see a familiar figure.

It's Seokjin.

He's lost the impossible glow to his skin, along with his confident and arrogant strut. In fact, he looks defeated. When he's closer, you can see that his clothes have become tattered and his face marred with dirt. He looks like he'd been struck by a hurricane of all things.

"Shut up!" he shrieks.

What a warm welcome.

The Dystopians carefully watch the scene unfold before them, but they don't act, don't move at all.

When Seokjin reaches the car, he frowns at the empty driver's seat and then slides into the back, shivering beyond control. "Get me the fuck out of here," he says, gritting his teeth.

You quickly roll up the window with the click of a button and turn around to look at him. God, he looks horrible. It almost makes you feel bad... but then again, his attitude is ungrateful and it ticks you off.

"Really? That's the first thing you're gonna tell me after I save your ass?"

"Second thing, actually," Seokjin mutters underneath his breath. He tries to run his fingers through his sweaty and matted hair but with no luck. The man gives up. "The first thing I told you to do was shut up."

You glare at him. "We have to do something, you know."

"Do what???" Seokjin yells, his voice raised and eyes widened. "Just get me out of here! Please!"

He sounds desperate. And he did say the magic word. But you can't just roll up in a fancy car in Dystopia and just save one person. Something called your moral compass doesn't find that idea so hot.

"Please. Let's get the fuck out of here. I can't stand it."

You look back at Seokjin and then out the window. Most of the Dystopian borns have already started to mind their own business again. Maybe you can ask the Governess what to do. Maybe (with her intelligence) she can come up with a brilliant plan to better Dystopia. And you've never seen such a desperate look on Seokjin. It's not really the time, but you almost feel satisfied.

Just enough to press the button on the holographic dash labeled 'home.'

"Yeah. You know what? Let's get you home."

Seokjin had thought you were pulling a massive prank on him. That you orchestrated this whole society thing and created a scary Dystopia to shove him in there to teach him a lesson. All because you'd uttered, "Let's get you home." Of which, Seokjin believed that home had actually meant home. As in the Earth the two of you know. He didn't believe that home had actually meant the strange Governess' mansion of a house.

You've never seen that man be so silent, so... unargumentative. Usually, you two can go back and forth with banter, but whatever was in Dystopia must have scared him silent. In fact, the whole car ride to the Governess' home had been silent, which was uncharacteristic of both of you.

The Governess seems happier than you to see Seokjin back, and she quickly offers him a gigantic bath. He doesn't need much convincing to accept it. When Seokjin comes out from the bathroom, he's in fresh, elegant clothing and there are no more traces of dirt on his skin.

Over a lavish dinner of excess food and drinks, the Governess fills Seokjin in with Atna's intentions and what Dystopia really is. You just eat quietly, gauging Seokjin's shocked expressions and wondering if that experience of his would do anything to change his character. You doubt it though. Kim Seokjin's one stubborn man.

"So... What you all said," Seokjin begins slowly. He's choosing his words carefully as if he can't even believe what he's saying. "You're saying that people who live there compete with the people who live here???" He shakes his head, scoffing and running his fingers through his clean hair. "How would that even logistically work?"

Your eyes widen at his words. For a man who had so vehemently argued against affirmative action, this is quite the improvement. You actually find yourself agreeing with him. The Governess sinks back in her seat, shrugging her shoulders and picking up a twinkling glass of bubbling amber liquid and downing it in one gulp.

"It just works," she answers.

"But what if only one person consistently scores the highest every year? Kinda like what you did. The population in Utopia won't benefit from that at all," you point out. "Utopia is underpopulated and judging from what I saw in Dystopia, it's pretty overpopulated."

The Governess shakes her head. "My year it was rare. You see, usually, there are about seven to fifteen kids who tie for the highest score. And apparently, that's enough to keep Utopia alive." The silver locket sitting between her collarbones sparkles in the bright light of the chandelier hanging above the tall ceiling as she mindlessly plays with the fraying ends of her wool sweater. "It's enough to keep the government happy."

Seokjin stands up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process. "It's wrong," he says, surprising you and the Governess. "It's unfair."

Pressing your lips together, you turn to stare at Seokjin. "Oh so since you've experienced it now, you think it's unfair, huh?" The words come out filled with scorn and contempt, which you didn't exactly mean, but it's too late now.

"No one should have to worry about food and shelter and disease while studying at the same time," he says. "The priorities are uneven."

You raise your eyebrows. So Seokjin's a tactile learner, you suppose. He's got to experience something to make sense of it.

"That's unfortunately what I've been saying for years," the Governess sighs. "I don't think I can do anything."

"Aren't you the Governess?" Seokjin asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He remains standing looking down at the woman with a look of surprise. "You're practically the mayor of the city."

"Well... yes, but—"

"Can't you just abolish Dystopia and Utopia?" you cut in before Seokjin begins to drill the poor Governess with passive-aggressive questions.

"I-I'm... I'm not sure. But you have to understand that the point of Dystopia and Utopia is to divide those who are intelligent and unintelligent."

This time you're the one who stands up in disbelief. "Hold on. Hold the fuck up. Hey, look. I didn't get into my fourth-grade gifted class, but I still made it as a lawyer," you say. "A little IQ test hurt my confidence as a kid. I thought I was fucking stupid for the longest time." You shake your head, staring right into the Governess' eyes. "But it's not that easy to define intelligence."

The Governess looks away, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I know... I mean, I knew a boy once. Back when I was a lot younger." She sighs in a way that makes you feel sorry. She holds pain in her eyes and her lips tremble before she speaks again. "We both hated the system. And he was one of the most intelligent people I knew. His older brother had started a revolution in Purgatory and well, they decimated everybody in his year." She shudders at the thought but continues on, pacing herself and not once looking up to you and Seokjin. "Taehyung," she whispers, fingers flying up to grasp her locket. "We were supposed to beat the Exam. We were supposed to win. But we couldn't. As you know, I was the only person who scored the highest on that year's exam. And I... So I lost him to this place. This fucking mansion."

"I'm sorry," you say, features softening as you slowly sink back in your seat. You want to reach across the table and hold her hand, console her, help her in some way. The Governess lives in a vast estate, hundreds of Utopian citizens and workers praise her for her intelligence—yet she is broken. Maybe even lonely.

"That's terrible," Seokjin offers. He uprights his chair and slides into it too, brows knitting together in pity. "But that just proves that there is no purpose in dividing the intelligent and unintelligent around here," he says. "Why even give the Dystopians a chance when you won't even support them? When you obviously favor the Utopians?"

You're about to yell at him for being so insensitive, but the Governess, with her sad-looking face answers anyways. "They say it's equal. I'm actually Dystopian-born myself, and I admit I worked twice as hard to get to where I am now. And even then, I had my advantages... A Utopian-born who shared the knowledge his parents illegally bought. A... friend who shared his medicine, his clothes, his warmth..." She holds herself, running her fingers across the woolly fabric of her sweater.

"So... it's not equal," you say. "They say it is, but obviously it's not."

"Then, my question is, why can't you make Dystopia equal? Why not fund them? Build them proper houses? A goddamn plumbing system? Give them fucking jobs?" Seokjin says, his voice rising with each consecutive question. "Just because they're 'unintelligent,' they don't get to be treated as human beings?"

It seems as though he'd learned a thing or two in the long hours he'd spent in Dystopia. You're almost impressed.

The Governess, however, downcasts her head in response. "But Atna was founded on the basis of weeding out the unintelligent."

"But that's the fucking problem!" Seokjin erupts. "You said it yourself that you were the only one who made it in your year. But you had a friend! An equally intelligent friend who didn't make it because of a bullshit system!"

To balance out Seokjin's outbursts, you try to speak a little calmly. "Whatever test you take might just be an unfair judgment," you offer.

And to your utmost surprise, Seokjin nods at you. It's insane—you can't remember the last time the two of you agreed on something.

Then there's a bit of silence as the Governess thinks. "... There might actually be some ways to go about this, I suppose."

"They planted in your head to be subservient," you say, "but you're the Governess, for fuck's say," you say. "You can make some suggestions, and they might listen since your judgment will always be assumed as sound."

"Exactly," Seokjin chimes in. "By their standards, you're the most intelligent person in this whole city. So by all means, propose a change."

The Governess looks up for the first time in a while. There's a little twinkle in her eye and a small smile playing on her lips. She's impressed. "You two are quite the duo."

Seokjin snorts. "We just get paid to argue."

"And we're pretty damn good at persuading too," you add on.

The Governess laughs, and it's a loud kind of laugh. Not exactly dainty but boisterous and obviously full of genuine happiness. "You two remind me a lot of myself and Taehyung," she smiles. "Listen, your words and insight have gotten me out of the slumps I've been in for who knows how long. I want to help you get back home in return. If you really are from the past... We Utopians haven't exactly figured out time travel yet, though we're working on it..."

"Oh, god," Seokjin groans, massaging his forehead. "I completely forgot this isn't our home. This whole thing is surreal!" he exclaims.

You nod in agreement. "Didn't you say there were other societies out there?"

Seokjin turns to you in astonishment while the Governess frowns slightly. "Yes, I did mention that some time... But I don't recommend you go tour them."

"Why not?" You cock your head in curiosity. "We're in the future. Might as well get a good look around."

Seokjin scoffs and for a second, you think you two have resorted back to stupid arguments, until: "You know what? As reckless and stupid as that sounds, I guess it makes some sense, fuzz-brain."

You scoff right back at him. "Fine. A-hole."

"You're crazy," the Governess says, gaping at the two of you. "You don't want to go to Tagna."

"Tagna..." The name sounds familiar. "Oh! You thought I was a Tagnasian!"

"While we value education and intelligence, they quite excessively value equality," the Governess tries to explain. She's got one of those worried frown creases on her forehead, but it's almost as if she knows that nothing she'll say will stop you two from doing what you want. She's right.

"I don't think valuing equality can go badly," you say. "At least Seokjin won't get stuck in a dystopia there."

Your co-worker snorts, but strangely, he brushes off the comment and turns to the Governess. "I think Tagna might be cool to explore for a while."

The Governess just shrugs your shoulders. "It's clear I won't be able to stop you two."

"You're right," you laugh.

"In that case, Tagna's just left of Dystopia. If you walk straight, it'll be there," she says. "But I'm warning you in advance that they're dangerous."

Seokjin laughs. "I somehow survived ten hours in Dystopia with no prior knowledge of survival and the society itself. I think I'll be fine at least."

You roll your eyes, but when you turn to the Governess, you see that she's just smiling and shaking her head. "All it took was one conversation from a couple of capable adults to change my perspective."

She sounds grateful and even more hopeful of her future here at Atna. Her fingers dance around her silver locket again, and you can't help but suspect that it's either a gift, or there's something significant inside. Either way, you know that all of you will never forget this encounter, and in some way or another, it'll affect your lives.

You and Seokjin bid the Governess your final goodbyes. After she tells you precise instructions of how to sneak out of her estate and out of Utopia's guarded walls, you two are off, walking side by side and into a strange, possibly stranger world.

"This is not what I expected," you whisper to Seokjin.

"Why are you whispering?" he asks in a booming loud voice that makes you grit your teeth. A few Tagnasians look at both of you strangely before walking away in a hurry.

You glare at Seokjin. Apparently, his stay in Dystopia hadn't completely demolished his arrogance. "This place feels... surgical."

There's no other way to describe it. Unlike Utopia, there are no lavish green lawns or towering mansions or bubbling fountains. Quite unlike Dystopia, Tagna is absent of rats, carcasses and foul stench. And there is no dirt at all. Instead, the ground consists entirely of smooth off-white stone and it seems to stretch on and on forever. The buildings look quite similar to each other with slight variations and the people—why are they all wearing the same thing?

"As ironically as I like equality... this is taking it... uh, a little too literally," you try to explain. "And some of these people are giving us mean looks for not conforming."

"It's like high school all over again," Seokjin snorts. "At least there isn't anything that poses as a threat around here. Lemme tell you in Dystopia, literally everything—"

"Hey!"

The loud, booming voice makes you nearly jump out of your skin. When you and Seokjin whirl around, you see a man in the same plain, gray attire as the others, but there's a small silver badge pinned to his chest that makes you assume he's some sort of law enforcement; a cop.

"W-Who are you?" the cop stutters. For law enforcement, he's not very intimidating. He must not be very used to any wandering stragglers—either that or he's new. "W-What do you two want?"

You glance at Seokjin, unsure of what to say, but luckily, that man has an answer for everything. "We're just visiting, officer."

However, that hadn't been the answer the cop had been looking for because the next thing you know, you're standing before what the Tagnasians apparently call, the Council. Seokjin thinks it's their government system. You hate to admit that he's right, but you have to agree.

There is a grand panel of serious-looking older men and women—somewhere in their early forties, which is odd considering that most government leaders back where you're from are well past their sixties. But through the slits of their eyes, they scrutinize you and Seokjin, shaking their heads disdainfully and disapproving of the way the two of you do not conform with the rest of their society. The cop presents you and Seokjin to the Council. Their whisperings cease.

"Ah," a man sitting in the middle speaks. He's got graying hair, a few wrinkles on his forehead, obviously a little older than the others, but he at least has a friendly demeanor. "It has been quite a while since we've gotten refugees."

You turn to Seokjin to give him a look, but when you find that he's not looking at you, you resist the urge to roll your eyes, looking back at the members of the Council.

"You are welcome to stay here in our humble society of Tagna," another member speaks out. "You'll like it here, refugees."

This time, Seokjin looks at you, but you're too entranced by what the Council is saying to meet his glance. He scoffs and proceeds to stare straight ahead.

"Tagna has a special place called Everland," a woman speaks out. "Only our best, our most esteemed are invited to be transported there."

"Everland is a place where the skies are cerulean blue," another chimes in. "The grass is green year-round and sparkling lakes stretch across the land. The weather is always quite lovely."

"A paradise."

"Yes, long, long ago, we humans fought wars over our slightest differences. We've faced terrorism, homicide, arson—over the smallest bits of jealousy and hatred," the man in the middle speaks. "But Tagna rids us of our differences. We are all equals in this place."

You glance at Seokjin and somehow find weird comfort in the fact that he's looking at you too. Almost as if to say, 'the way they put it, this doesn't sound too bad at all.' And if he did mean that, then you'd have to agree. You have no idea what's been happening to the Earth after the year 2220, but you can only assume that people have only increased their aggression against each other for the smallest differences. If it was that bad at home in your present, you can't imagine how worse it's gotten—and especially with a deadly plague.

"As our most esteemed refugees, the Council is quite honored to offer you an opportunity to explore Everland," the Council leader speaks. He smiles warmly and nods to you and Seokjin. "We want you to make yourself at home."

"Oh," you laugh politely, shaking your head. "Actually, Seokjin and I are just visiting, if that's all right."

Seokjin nods. "We were wondering if we could get a quick look around Tagna and Everland."

The Council leader smiles. "Of course, of course. But I would like to warn you... No one ever wants to come back from Everland. It is a Utopia."

"A Utopia, huh?" you snort, lying across your hospital bed and scratching at your semi-itchy patient gown.

Seokjin looks at you and shrugs. "Sounds familiar. What is with the future's obsession with Utopian societies?"

"No idea," you say, rolling your eyes. "But I mean, at least the Governess was wrong about them. The Council's pretty accommodating."

"I hate agreeing with you, but yeah. Still think shoving us in a hospital is weird, though."

You sigh. "Were you not listening to a single thing they said? That's the only way we can get transported. The nurse said it's a complex process and we need to prepare for it."

"I was listening," Seokjin grumbles. "It seems as though Atna isn't as intelligent as they think they are," he says. "The Tagnasians have already figured out all that dimension-traveling jazz. We'll definitely have to ask them to help us get back home later."

"That's the first solid idea you've had since you were born," you snort.

Seokjin glares at you. "You seem to forget that I saved your ass on the Morder case, do you not?"

You whirl around and face him, jaw hanging slightly. "You're kidding me. I missed one detail. I would've figured it out in a couple more days."

"Yeah, your client would've been ecstatic about that, huh?"

"Why do you always bring up the oldest shit to argue with me?" you counter. "It's not helping our situation at all!"

"You're the one who keeps starting it," Seokjin scoffs. "Besides, I'm the one who had to stay in Dystopia by myself, and I'm still letting you go around to face the other fucking societies!"

"You were stranded there for what, like ten hours? Some people are born there you fucking asshole. Did you even learn anything??"

Before Seokjin can yell at you, the door opens and your nurse pops his head into the room. "I heard yelling," he says. "Is everything all right?"

"No," you and Seokjin say at the same time—both with equal annoyance.

The nurse stares a little before quickly gathering his thoughts. "Well, Seokjin, why don't we get you back to your room so we can let Y/N rest a little? It's not good to transport to Everland with any sort of irritation. We want you to be as calm and happy as possible."

Begrudgingly, Seokjin saunters out of your room, following the nurse's orders. When the both of them leave, you let out a sigh of relief. How the fuck you got stuck with an ape of a man is beyond you, but as soon as you tour Everland, you'll be ready to leave. You miss home. You miss Naeun, who always backed you up when Seokjin said some sort of bullshit. You miss being in a normal society with a government that you can sort of maybe trust. It's better than a government that allows discriminating against intelligence levels and another government that is, for some reason, obsessed with preciseness and hospital-like procedures. For a second, you almost feel the urge to run out of this room and ask the Council if they can take you home. But if you do, you're going to miss the opportunity of a lifetime. You're going to a Utopia—another dimension. If you don't take this chance, you're never going to be given another. Someone as annoying as Seokjin can't stop you from experiencing the supernatural.

Cursing that pompous man out in your head, you soon fall asleep vowing that you're not going to leave until you've seen Everland.

During the next few days, with your nurse's blessing, you explore the hospital. There's this pretty hallway that lights up nicely with its long window panes. You like to stand there and look out at the lawn outside.

You can't exactly remember the last time you've gone this long without talking to someone. Though you've tried making conversation with the others in this hospital, no one looks like they have the time to carry on small talk. And your nurse is one of the most boring people ever to have graced this Earth; you've found that talking to him is akin to talking to a brick wall. All he ever wants to do is tell you stories of Everland that are too pixie fairy-dusty for your taste and offer you the emotional support that you don't need. He also likes to answer questions that you never asked.

"Yes, Y/N! Tagna is quite the advanced society."

"Our science is unparalleled!"

"Yes, yes, we sport a zero percent death rate. Oh, you heard that right. Yes, zero. With our advanced medicine and technology, we can cure just about every disease out there. In fact, we're the ones who found the cure for the plague that killed off billions!"

The only thing you found interesting in your one-sided 'conversations' with your nurse is that people don't die around here. Instead, 100 percent of the time, Tagnasians are transported to Everland before they pass from old age. After a while though, the information becomes repetitive and boring. It's mild suffering, unable to have some sort of banter or argument with someone, unable to have a satisfying back-and-forth discourse.

That's when you start searching for Seokjin again. (It's also a little offensive that he's been ignoring you all this time too.)

It doesn't take too long to find that man leeching off in the cafeteria, scarfing down a double-decker rocky road with a glass of milk at his side. Seokjin has always had a habit of glorifying food. Cautiously, you step forward and take the seat in front of him, gauging his countenance. Seokjin looks more surprised than annoyed, which is a good sign, really.

"Missed me already?" He smirks, mouth covered in chocolate and crumbs littering the white table.

You almost stand back up and walk out, but you tell yourself to have patience. "I'm just bored," you say nonchalantly. "Are you taking apart this kitchen by yourself?"

"More or less," Seokjin snorts. "Why? Do you wanna help?"

You grimace. "No."

"Then why are you here?" Seokjin sighs, setting down his treat and brushing off the crumbs on his hands.

"That's a stupid question," you mutter. You're not going to be caught dead admitting that you came to seek Seokjin for company; his ego is already too big for that.

"Whatever, fuzz-brain, people find me irresistible," Seokjin says. He grabs a napkin from a napkin dispenser nearby and begins to meticulously wipe the chocolate off of his face. Watching the disgusted look on your face, Seokjin laughs. "The nurse says we're going to Everland in a couple of days, though. Exciting isn't it?"

He's trying to make polite conversation and for once, you're pleased.

"I guess," you say. "Though we'll have to keep in mind that we need to leave there after a while."

"Aw, you don't want to live in Utopia with me?" Seokjin asks, a mock pout on his face. "I was actually looking forward to convincing you to stay with me."

You snort, shaking your head. "Yeah, well, good luck with that."

"Thank you," Seokjin grins before standing up and straightening out his white patient gown. "I'm kidding, by the way," he says. "I'd never stay too long in a place where I can't wear my spectacular outfits."

Of course.

"Anyway, I'm going up to my room. You can come too, if you want to continue our conversation."

For a split second, you wonder if you should follow Seokjin up to his room. You can't exactly guarantee this conversation won't end in an argument, but then again, this is also the first time Seokjin's almost been kind of... considerate of you. Besides, you should be getting close to him—he's the only person you know in this crazy society. So, before you can really stop yourself, you end up in Seokjin's room, sitting on the edge of his bed as he lounges on his plush couch (brought to him per vehement request).

It's silent for a while as the two of you collect your thoughts. Though, it doesn't take long for one of you to break the silence.

"You never did tell me what happened in Dystopia," you say, squeezing your hands together. "Unless you don't want to revisit those memories."

Seokjin raises his eyebrows—as if he's being challenged by you to dare to speak. "I didn't think you could handle the atrocities I had to face."

You make a face. "That's a very backasswards way of thinking."

"Fine then. If you want to know so bad, then fine," Seokjin huffs. He sits up a little on his couch, uncrossing his legs and then crossing them the other way. "I might've not been too cooperative when they got us. Their hockey-puck taser only hit my side, so I woke up a little earlier than you. And I guess you could say I didn't have many kind things to say to them."

You snort. "Predictable."

Seokjin ignores you, though you can tell he flinches slightly. "But they told me I was going to Dystopia—before even telling me what the hell that even means—and then they tased me again. Properly, this time. I woke up smelling some sort of batshit smell.

"Apparently those bastards threw me in a pile of mud. I had it everywhere on me. Even my face. It was a struggle trying to get it off of me, which was also unsuccessful. I didn't even look around my surroundings until way later, and that's when I noticed how desolate that place actually was.

"And the fucking rats..." Seokjin pauses for a moment, folding his hands together and looking down at them. "It was... Well, it was really hard to believe this was all real. I thought I was dreaming. But it felt too real, you know? The smell of the rotting bodies, the sight of blood on the rats' teeth... Even the grime sticking to my clothes was heavy and wet and goddammit, I'd never do it over again.

"I tried wandering around to somehow get out. I wasn't about to give up so soon, right? But it was so... fruitless. I don't know."

Your eyes widen at Seokjin's words. This is the first time you've ever seen him without his blazing trail of usual arrogant confidence. It's a weird look on him; you're not sure whether you find it amusing or worrying.

"There... Well, there was a family." Seokjin pauses, gathering his thoughts. "Their children actually found me. And I guess they felt pity. They felt the need to help me... even in their situation. I didn't know what to say." His head is downcast and he struggles to find his next words. "They offered me food. They offered me things that they barely had themselves. And they were hopeful."

"Hopeful?" you say in a voice barely above a whisper. "For what?"

"I'm not exactly sure," Seokjin answers. "I didn't know anything at all when I was there with them. But now, I think they were hopeful for their children to take the Exam. For them to succeed in life where they couldn't... And it just clicked when we were having dinner with the Governess."

You're about to put your own two cents in, but Seokjin speaks before you can open your mouth.

"It's not fair."

"Yeah, I know it isn't."

"But it's like that in the real world too, isn't it? You know, back home?"

You look at the man in astonishment. "So you do get it?"

Seokjin scoffs. "Of course I do. I'm not a blithering idiot. The rich will always get richer. They'll always produce the richest children who will inevitably have better access to education and therefore be deemed more intelligent. The poor will get poorer. They're told that they're given opportunities. But really, they're given basic human rights and passed off to the middle class where the wealthy will profit from their labor. I get it now. I fucking get it."

You have the unexplainable urge to jump up and down from your seat and yell, "I TOLD YOU SO. YOU SHOULD'VE KNOWN THAT I WAS RIGHT!" But you swallow it down your throat and clear it awkwardly. "I'm glad you understand."

Seokjin whirls around at you. "Do you think we're here because some higher existence wanted me to learn a fucking lesson?"

Whatever you expected to come out of his mouth, it definitely wasn't this. You can't help but laugh a little at his theory. "That would mean I'm being punished for your flaws."

"Oh? But maybe your flaw is hating me unconditionally."

You snort. "Fair enough. Although, I wouldn't say that would be a 'maybe.' It's a fact." Seokjin just scoffs, but it's not the kind of scoff that would make you think he's patronizing you. It's more of an amused one. A scoff of defeat, too. "I'm glad you seemed to have learned a very important life lesson from your struggles."

There's a bit of empty silence before Seokjin answers, "Me too."

And from there, things run as smoothly as things can get with Seokjin by your side. He's a wild man, always looking to talk up a storm without feeling the need to shut up once in a while. You've had to hold him back on multiple occasions to keep him from holding up busy nurses and surgeons seen walking about the hospital. Quickly, you realize that the only way to get Seokjin to calm down is to feed him. So, you spend most of your time in Tagna's grand cafeteria.

Days pass with surprising ease as you and Seokjin wait for your transport date to Everland. Your nurse is just as excited as the two of you are, always checking up on you to see if you had everything you wanted.

But after a while, the days become repetitive. How long have you been here? A week? Maybe only three days. It feels like it's been an eternity. You're not one to feel claustrophobic, but you're also not one to like staying in one place all the time. The white walls seem to close in on you, and the smell of rubbing alcohol protrudes your nose, numbing your head and making you feel dizzy at times. You begin to wonder if you'll ever make it to Everland.

"I've come to an interesting conclusion," Seokjin announces one day, entering your room and quite rudely (without invitation) plopping down on your bed. You give him a side glare. He ignores you.

"And what might that conclusion be?" you sigh.

"Have you ever taken a look at the patients around here?"

"No...?" Why would you? It's none of your damn business.

"They're either old, disabled or mentally ill," Seokjin says. "No exceptions."

You frown. "Which one of those categories would we fit in, then?"

"Okay, fine. We might be the exception. But don't you find it a little weird?"

"No?" you say. "It's a hospital. You would think old, disabled and mentally ill people would come here."

"But sometimes, you can go to hospitals for check-ups too, you know. Except around here, every patient just stays here," Seokjin says. "I don't know if you would know, but I made quite a lot of friends who graduated med school, so I'd know how this stuff works."

You roll your eyes. "Fine, if you're so smart, enlighten me."

"While you were stuffing your face with some key lime pie, I was knocking around patients' rooms," Seokjin explains, seemingly quite proud of himself for doing so. "I just wanted to get to know some people."

"You just wanted to hit up cute girls."

"No." A pause. "Okay, maybe. But that's beside the point, fuzz-brain. Anyways, the first couple of rooms were a bust. I tried talking to the patients but they started talking to themselves. It was as if they couldn't understand what was going on. I walked into a third room. The patient was old. I think they had hearing problems too. So I had to go into a fourth room, and you know what I found? A patient with an amputated arm. He was talking on and on about Everland. And sure, I wanna go there too, but after a while, it does get kinda annoying."

"What is your point?" you sigh.

"I'm getting there," Seokjin says, huffing impatiently. "I go into about twenty more rooms before a nurse stops me. And you know what I find funny? Every single damn patient. They're either old, disabled or mentally ill. And they all believe they're going to Everland. Do you see a pattern? Or is it just me?"

"Yeah, I see the pattern," you say. "But I don't get what you're trying to say."

Seokjin looks disappointed in you. "I'm just saying... Something feels off."

"I mean, it does feel a little weird around here, but that's only because this is so far from home. Tagna's a good society. An advanced one. You know our nurse? He made a huge show about how they have a zero percent death rate. They can stop death, apparently."

Seokjin raises his hand. "Hold up. Our nurse said that??? And you never bothered to tell me???"

"I thought with all the talking and poking around you do, you would've already known!" you protest.

"No death??" Seokjin whispers aggressively. "Even for a future society, it sounds pretty preposterous! How did you believe it that easily?"

"It sounds preposterous, but it doesn't mean it's not impossible!" you argue. "These people survived a global epidemic and created an advanced society from scratch. You should give them some credit."

"Something's off," Seokjin says, shaking his head. "I just know it. Why can't you feel it too?"

"Of course, I've felt it!" you say. "But what are we supposed to do about it? What are you suggesting we do then, huh?"

"I don't know!" Seokjin exclaims. "It's just... God, don't you see? It's like—I dunno—It's like Everland is a place people who don't belong go to!"

Your eyes widen. "People who don't belong?"

"The Governess said Tagna likes equality, remember?"

You do remember. "You're saying... you're saying they're just getting rid of people who don't conform—er, can't conform??"

"Exactly!" Seokjin exclaims.

"And... oh my god." Your voice drops and goosebumps appear on your skin. "The Council said at one point, everyone here will end up in Everland... Do you think...?"

"Do I think Everland is their way of death? Fuck yeah," Seokjin says. "Didn't you see how young the Council members were?"

"Everland... is death."

"We have to make that assumption. It makes sense that they would want to kill us for walking into their society unannounced. They're probably suspicious of anyone who is different."

"We have to get out of here," you say, voice rising. "Oh my god. These poor people! If Everland really is... you know, death, do you think everyone knows? Or is it safe to assume that the Council would keep that from everyone? Or, or, what if the Council thinks Everland is real and the hospital workers know what's really going on?"

"As much as I'd like to know those answers, I don't really want to wait around to find out," Seokjin says. "I wanna explore what the afterlife entails as much as the next guy—if there even is one in the first place—but I'd also very much like to go home alive."

"We need to get out of here," you say.

"We'll leave tonight," Seokjin says. "Hopefully, their security isn't so tight. I have a feeling most people here like to follow the rules."

As soon as the nurses call lights out, you and Seokjin both slip from your bed covers and creak open your doors. You meet each other's eyes then survey the dark, empty hallway of the hospital.

"Do you know the way out?" Seokjin whispers to you.

You frown. "I was kind of hoping you knew the way out."

The maze-like hospital hallways make it nearly impossible to even find the cafeteria sometimes. Even worse is the fact that it's dark, which makes it harder to navigate the place.

Seokjin curses under his breath. "Okay. New plan. We search the whole hospital and try to avoid the nurses. The exit should show up sometime."

Following his lead, you tiptoe across the hallways, back flush against the darkened walls, carefully looking through the windows of the doors in the hopes of finding a flight of stairs that would lead down to an exit. You must've checked at least twenty doors with Seokjin, but your attempts are fruitless. You're starting to wonder if you'll get caught before you even find what you're looking for.

And your worst fears begin to come true.

"Shit," you whisper. "I think I hear some nurses."

A couple of light footsteps echo across the hallway. It seems as though the nurses are yet to turn the corner, which gives you and Seokjin approximately a good thirty seconds before the two of you get in big trouble.

Without another word, Seokjin quickly flings open the closest door—which happened to be made out of a rather heavy-looking metal and had no space for a window. He pushes you inside and follows in straight after, closing the door behind him. It's dark in there but with the faintest reddish glow down a long flight of stairs.

You and Seokjin look at each other. "I think we just found the basement," you say.

"Well, that's a step backward," Seokjin sighs. "I think the nurses would've passed us by now, right? Let's try to get out again."

"Wait," you say, holding up your hand. "Do you smell that?"

"No? Wait," Seokjin says as he sniffs. "Smells like something's burning down there. Maybe it's a furnace."

"Let's check."

Seokjin visibly freezes.

You poke fun at him. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

"No." He grimaces. "Fine. Let's give it a whirl."

You don't miss the way he desperately holds onto you as the two of you descend the flight of stairs. But instead of coming down to a basement, the two of you come face to face with another door. It's got a slim slit filled in with a thick, smoked-up window, where the reddish glow is emitted. Worst of all, the door's got a keypad and it's locked.

"Damn," Seokjin says, "maybe next time." But he sounds almost glad about it.

You roll your eyes. "Lemme try."

"What the hell are you doing??" Seokjin demands. "What if you get the wrong code and it beeps like crazy?"

"Stop being so paranoid," you tell him, leaning forward and studying the keypad. "Hm..." Without hesitation, you type in the most obvious password you can think of: 0000.

The lock beeps quietly and flashes a bright red.

"See? You could never crack it, fuzz-brain. You can try for the next hundred years."

You ignore him, instead opting for the second most obvious password: 1234. Seokjin scoffs at you, but you get the satisfaction of seeing his shell-shocked face when the lock clicks and the door creaks open.

"What the hell??"

"I just thought they wouldn't have an outrageously hard password, considering that they're obsessed with simplicity and conformity," you snort. You swing the heavy door open with both hands, only to be hit with a putrid stench. It's a mixture of something rotting, something dying and something burning.

"I know this smell," Seokjin says. His tone is icy and laced with trepidation. "I've smelled it in Dystopia."

The moment he announces this, you realize this smell is quite familiar. You've gotten quite a bit of exposure to it when you were in Atna. But why is it here? Unless...

Seokjin cowers behind you as you saunter into the mysterious room. And you have to hold back a scream when you see what's before you.

Bodies.

There are burning bodies in here. Engulfed by red flames, eaten away by the heat and smoke. You resist the urge to shriek. Seokjin grasps your arm.

"O-Oh my god," you whisper, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. "Oh my god!"

"They kill them," Seokjin whispers, his voice shaking. His grip around you tightens, and if you weren't so terrified right now, you would've pushed him away.

"They burn them!" you whisper aggressively. "Now we have to get out."

Seokjin doesn't speak another word; he's already tugging you up the stairs, leaving the basement door wide open.

"Wait! The door!"

"Leave it!" he says. "We're getting the fuck out of here!"

For a split second, you realize the next unlucky person to venture down this dark staircase will have an unfortunate surprise waiting for them. But maybe they aren't unlucky. Maybe they deserve to know what's really happening. If it's a nurse—and nurses really don't understand what Everland is—they'll know the truth. Maybe they'll feel guilty. Maybe they'll faint right on the spot. Maybe they'll see this kind of monstrosity and leave Tagna for good. Or maybe... they already know they're killing people who are different—people who cannot possibly conform to their standards.

"This way!" Seokjin whispers, breaking you from your thoughts.

You follow him out, footsteps thudding a little too loudly against the white hospital floors. You can only hope that the next person who goes down there finds the basement by accident. You want them to scream. To panic. To realize how bad this place really is. To break away from their stupid Everland fantasies.

A part of you wants to have a word with the Council. Threaten them. Do something. But maybe the most you and Seokjin can do is leave that basement door open, hoping someone unsuspecting will find it and pass on the truth.

You and Seokjin don't stop running. You're unsure where the two of you are going, but your heart is racing, and you can feel it thumping in your head. It's either luck or Tagna's strict curfew that allows you and Seokjin to get away without anyone catching the two of you. Finally, you see the faintly familiar exit—the entrance of which you and Seokjin had entered the hospital a week(?) or a little over a week ago.

The dark streets are completely empty, void from any signs of life. Seokjin's still got a hold of your arm, though his grip around it has loosened a lot. You would've never thought that confident, arrogant man was such a scaredy-cat in dire situations. It's a little ironic, but you don't exactly have any major complaints, either.

The two of you begin to slow down when you reach the outskirts of Tagna. The white emptiness begins to morph into brown dirt—you've never been so happy to see soil. It's the sign of which you know that you and Seokjin are finally safe.

As soon as you catch your breath, you attempt to make a joke to stave off the tension and cope with what you've just seen. "You-You know what? Maybe equality isn't the right answer."

Seokjin sounds surprised. "Oh, really now?"

The two of you continue to walk, though your paces have slowed down significantly. "I don't know," you sigh, shaking your head. "Maybe we shouldn't try to erase our differences. Instead, we need to learn to embrace them."

Seokjin turns to you, an indiscernible look on his face. "Does that philosophy apply to us?"

You snort. "Don't make it about us, now."

"Oh, c'mon," Seokjin says, "we've been through so much terror together."

"It wasn't exactly the most enlightening experience."

"Oh?" Seokjin raises his eyebrows. "I would argue that we've learned quite a lot of important life lessons in Atna and Tagna."

You roll your eyes. "You're the one who did the learning, anyway."

Seokjin scoffs. "I'd like to disagree. Who was the one who saved us from death by the hands of Tagna, huh?"

"We were bound to find out sooner or later," you argue. "Besides, if it weren't for me and my password hacking skills, we wouldn't even have had the truth confirmed."

"What do you want, a cookie?" Seokjin says. "It was a joint effort."

Even though you do actually agree with the latter part of Seokjin's claim, you don't want him to have that satisfaction of your acquiescence.

"If I didn't save you from Atna's slums, you would've been rat food," you say.

"Maybe being rat food would've been better than hauling around an idiot like you around highly dangerous societies," Seokjin retorts. His comment makes your blood boil. Rat food??? You're worse than rat food?

"Hey, now, you fucking asshole—"

"Oh, look, it's a castle," Seokjin interrupts you.

Another long string of mean names was about to leave your mouth, but you look up to where Seokjin had stopped walking. To your surprise, there is a castle. It's grandeur, sparkling underneath an unnaturally azure blue sky—somehow bluer than that of Atna's. The towers stretch vertically upwards, casting light shadows on beautiful groves of green trees. The castle's so large you can barely see where it begins and ends. Your jaw nearly drops open at the sight. "Woah. This is the next society." Your favorite society yet. You've always wanted to visit a nice castle.

"The castle's nice, but look at that village over there," Seokjin says. And once you squint, you see hundreds and hundreds of people hunched over, working the dirt soil in hopes of having a good harvest next season. The people look exhausted, their faces sunken and their clothes tattered and muddy. It's a jarring sight—especially after leaving the prim and proper society of Tagna. The village is quite expansive, surrounding the castle that seems much farther away now. "This is like what was happening in Atna," Seokjin observes. "Look, the royal family is living in luxury and leaving their citizens in poverty."

You frown, staring up at the grand castle and then staring back down at the poor village. "But there's always a twist. Royalty living in riches, citizens living in poverty. That already happens. There's something more."

"And you wanna find out, don't you?" Seokjin sighs.

"Let's walk around," you suggest. "These people look a little too busy to care about us."

Turns out, you're right. As you and Seokjin walk through the village, no one stops you, not even bothering to glance up. The village isn't exactly foul-smelling, nor is it a place you think people want to live in; it seems as though they don't have a choice. Upon further walking, you and Seokjin stumble on a strange... ceremony? There are young girls lined up in rows and an older man in a crown inspecting them.

The girls have made a conscious effort to tame their tangled locks and have also put on their cleanest clothes—though they're still quite ridden with dirt. Confused, you turn to look at Seokjin, who shrugs. He then proceeds to ask a girl right next to him, "Hey, what's up with this?"

The girl just grins. "The Choosing Ceremony!" she exclaims, which explains something but also nothing. Choosing for what?? Seokjin's face scrunches up in the way it does when he's confused, and you're just about to ask for further details when—

"I would like to choose you, my dear."

You whirl around to come face to face with the old man in a crown. It finally hits you that he must be the king of this kingdom. You don't wanna find out what happens around here when you disrespect the king. Cautiously, you attempt an awkward curtsy, "Chosen for what, your majesty?"

"My dear!" the king laughs boisterously. "Why, to live in the castle, of course. You have become quite the fortunate young girl to live in royalty for the rest of your life under the care of the Cerulean Kingdom. It's quite the honor as only one girl is chosen per year."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Seokjin asks you, crossing his arms over his chest. "That sounds a little too good to be true."

It's quite the weird proposition, indeed. But once the king sees Seokjin standing next to you, he roars, "Do not question my generosity, peasant."

You give Seokjin a panicked look. You hope that he's intelligent enough to understand not to mess with some foreign king in a totally new society. He has no idea what they're capable of.

"Come, my dear, let us get in the carriage."

You hesitantly look back at Seokjin, who's absolutely seething. For a second, you're scared. Going with the king will mean you'll be separated from Seokjin, and that's never been a good thing in these societies. But if you resist, there's a high chance you'll be killed.

"Leave him," the king orders as he watches you consider your limited options. He grabs your arm and you instantly freeze. Something about the king instills fear in you. It's almost like you have to obey him.

As soon as the king lets go of you, a slew of knights come and begin to drag you away to the royal carriage. It's almost frustrating not being able to resist in fear.

The only comfort you have is Seokjin, who yells at the top of his lungs, "YOU IDIOT! IT'S OKAY! I'LL FIND YOU, OKAY?"

You just nod vigorously, right before the guard shuts the carriage door in your face, trapping you and the king inside, together. He stares you up and down, probably scrutinizing the whiteness of the Tagnasian patient gown you're still wearing. Then, he speaks.

"Never have I seen someone be so ungrateful of being chosen," he mutters. "I'm quite astonished, dear. I would've thought a darling like you all dressed up in white would have at least felt honored."

"I am honored," you lie through your teeth. "It was just... I'm sorry, it was heartbreaking to have to leave my boyfriend behind."

"Ah!" the king exclaims. He buys your fib in a split second. "Well, that won't be a problem, dear." You expect him to say something on the lines of, 'You'll be able to visit him any time you want!' Or at least a, 'He'll be allowed to visit you in the castle!' Instead, you get a, "You'll forget about him in three days. I have quite a handsome son. A prince."

You resist the urge to gag.

But once you step on the castle grounds, you realize how hard it's gonna be to turn back. It's incredibly lavish here—something you've never experienced in your whole life. Immediately, you're the star of the show. The nobles, dukes and royalty marvel at your white patient gown, comparing it with their older, more medieval fashion. All eyes are on you when you waltz down the steps to enter a grand party that they threw just for you. They have glasses of amber, bubbling liquid, which fizzes down your throat and keeps you calm yet playful. The alcohol's just enough to keep you relaxed and drunk enough to forget about reality, about Seokjin.

Never in your life have you felt this popular, this rich. The conversations you have with random strangers blend in your mind. The faces blur together. All you can remember is twirling around in your silky, blue dress and losing all the ribbons they'd interlaced in your hair. The next morning, you're too busy to think.

There's a closet full of dresses to try on, hundreds of rooms to explore and a whole kitchen—the size of your house—to completely devour. (Your compliments to the chef for the delectable pastries.) You're completely mesmerized by the luxury. Even spending ten, fifteen years here, you don't think you'll ever get used to the pool-sized bathtubs and hundreds of maids waiting to follow your every order.

When you thought things couldn't get any better, you discover the wine cellar. Expensive wine is something you love but can't have the luxury of having too often—because of stupid budgets. But right here, right now...

You must've taste-tested at least fifteen bottles before you finally notice the unfamiliar face just staring you down. He's handsome. Pretty eyes, a sloped nose and a fit body. You're too drunk to notice the silver circlet on his head, but you do notice the sun-shaped pendant that rests between his collarbones.

The man stares at you with a grave look on his face. "You must be the new girl."

"Ha!" you laugh. "And you are?"

He looks at you strangely. "The prince."

You don't even bother curtsying. "Looking for a drinking buddy?"

He stares. You take it as an invitation to continue the quite one-sided conversation. "You know, this place is great."

The prince mumbles his answer under his breath, which comes out incoherent and practically unintelligible. Maybe he's shy. Then you'll seek others' company.

"Where are the other girls? I've been looking for them but I think they're in hiding or something," you giggle a little. "Oh, and one of the doors is locked. I was wondering if you have the key?"

The prince just grips a wine bottle tightly by the neck, gritting his teeth and staring at the floor. An awkward silence commences.

"Wellll... Nice talk," you say. "I'll get going. I like this place, but my friend's kinda waiting for me outside, so sooner or later, I'll have to leave. Just not tomorrow, though. There's still too much to explore."

The prince again makes no reaction. You just roll your eyes and saunter out of the room with the best of your slightly drunk ability—the best-tasting wine in your hand. The rest of the day, you spend in your room, fighting off a hangover and curling up in a grand, plush bed. You allow your thoughts to run wild, and for moments, you think of Seokjin. Is it selfish of you to leave him in the village for a couple of days while you live a lavish life? Is he going to be mad when he finds out that you haven't even been trying to get back to him? But he would've done the same as you if he were in your situation, right? You can't say no to luxuries; he probably can't either. Besides, the village can't be worse than Dystopia... right?

There's a little bit of guilt that lingers in your mind before your thoughts slow down and you drift off to deep sleep.

In the afternoon (when you end up waking up), you decide to explore the castle one more time before attempting to escape. You glance at the massive door with the heavy chains locking it from the outside. If only you had a bobby pin. Maybe you could've picked the lock. But maybe you don't want to know what's inside that room. The curiosity still eats you away, though. To ward off unwanted urges (that could possibly lead to your demise), you swiftly enter a large room to explore, only to find that it's a large library. The books tower over you in the biggest bookshelves you've seen in your life. The chairs and desk decorating the room look so antique and expensive that you almost have to think twice before sitting on them.

This is every book-lover's dream. Imagine being able to read books from the future!

You immediately scour the whole place, pulling out books and scrolls and skimming through them. But after a while, you come to a disappointing conclusion. Everything in this library is about one thing: scripture. Not just any scripture, but a scripture for an unfamiliar religion. Where they worship the gods. It reminds you a little about Greek mythology.

While the words dull you, you stare at the intricate pictures, instead. Yet that becomes tedious after some time as well. There must be better rooms to explore. You clean up after yourself a little, putting back the books you'd pulled out and rolling up the scriptures again and placing them back in the correct spots. But you notice a certain book situated perfectly on a table you hadn't even sat at. It's open. And it looks as if it's done fairly recently.

You inch closer to the book, wondering what the contents would entail. But what you see on the page makes your heart drop.

There's an image, a painting on the right-hand side of the page of a bloody sacrifice. The skies opening up like a veil and two outstretched hands coming forth. Below, young girls are chained to the ground, their pale faces distraught and their insides hanging out of their bodies. Blood pooling on the gravel. A cloaked figure offering what looks like a heart to the sky deity. Your own heart seems to stop, itself.

Quickly, you read through the contents of the page, no longer just relying on the image. It's worse news. These folks annually sacrifice the heart of a young girl to the sky god in hopes of another beautiful year of cerulean skies and a good harvest. The girl is allowed to stay at the castle for three days before she'll be taken to the sky room and be sacrificed for the good of the Cerulean Kingdom.

So you're a sacrifice. Now you really got to get the hell out of here. Maybe being transported to Everland would've been better than having a cloaked man rip up your insides. Attempting to escape doesn't become a thought in the back of your head anymore. It's your number one priority, now. Because if you don't manage to escape today, you'll be gutted tomorrow.

You hide the book under your dress and make a bee-line to the confines of your room. You'll come up with something. You have over six hours, right? You'll figure something out. Since you know the castle pretty well, you think you can manage sneaking out to the gardens... But you're not really sure how well-guarded the castle is at night.

You curse in your head. You hope Seokjin's faring better than this. You open up your windows to let a cool breeze in, trying to calm yourself down, but it doesn't do much to help.

Too soon, night falls upon you. You're pretty much ready—a stealthy-looking black dress on (which you conveniently found in your expansive closet) and the important book in hand. All you have to do is turn your door handle and walk out. It should be that easy right? The aureate clock on your wall reads past midnight. Most people should be asleep.

With a deep breath, you turn the doorknob and push. The door does not budge. You push again. Same result. You begin to panic. No fucking way. They locked your door???? When?? Did they suspect you were going to escape? Was it their final precaution before the big day tomorrow?

A string of curses leaves your mouth as you pace back and forth in your room. There has to be a solution. A way to escape sacrifice. Maybe you can hide in your closet—with its size, they'll never find you. Or, or you can fake your own death! Where's your fucking knight in shining armor when you need him??

Your thoughts are interrupted when a small pebble whizzes into your room through your open window. "Shit!" you shriek, stumbling over to the open window to see who the hell would've thrown such a thing into your room. "Be carefu—oh my god, Seokjin!!" Your heart soars and the relief that washes over you is so cathartic that you feel faint. He's here. He found you! But as soon as your special moment comes, that bubble bursts.

"SHHH!" the man whispers, putting his finger to his lips. He aggressively motions you to come down.

Your hands fly up to the air. "I can't!!" you whisper. "The door's locked! And there's no rope!"

"Unlock the door???" Seokjin whisper-yells as if that were the most obvious solution in the world.

"It's fucking locked from the outside, you twit!"

"Then use your damn blankets or sheets or something??"

"But that doesn't seem very sturdy!!"

"Do you have another choice??"

"ARGH. Just—hold on!"

You mumble more curses underneath your breath as you try to figure out how in the hell to tie your sheets together strongly enough so that you don't fucking fall to your death. While you're partly glad that Seokjin's now here, he doesn't exactly understand the sheer urgency of your situation yet, and you're already half-annoyed that he thinks he knows everything.

But in the middle of your desperate rush, you hear a solid knock on your door. You freeze.

"You better not be feasting on cake right now!" Seokjin yells from below. "Why's it gone so silent?"

Your insides are twisting and coiling as you look between the open window and the locked door. Are they onto you??? Using the last of your brainpower, you leap to the window and put your fingers to your lips. "Shh!! Someone just knocked on my door!" you whisper.

Seokjin either has more than half a brain cell left in his head or he notices the urgency in your voice because he shuts up right away.

In the next minute, you frantically try to kick the tied sheets under your bed, head reeling with all kinds of the worst thoughts. When the lock clicks and the door opens, you drop the sheets and step on top of it, trying to act nonchalantly and smiling through your trembling lips.

While you expected to see a guard or a maid or maybe even the king, you don't expect to see the prince. He glances at the tied sheets under your sheet but doesn't say anything. You're practically sweating bullets. Hopefully this bitch isn't a snitch. If he runs along to his father and tattletales on your escape attempt, it's all over.

Instead, the prince steps into your room. A little timidly, even more cautiously. His eyes flit to your open window, your smiling face (though he can sense the desperation through it), a heavy book in your hand and your escape method "hidden" under your feet. To your surprise, his features soften.

"I thought... thought that you might need some more wine..." His voice is beautifully silverly, just like the circlet that sits on top of his head. You didn't notice that before. His presence is strange, but somehow even reassuring. You don't know what to make of it.

The prince sets the wine on your pearly-white dresser and glances at you. There's a peculiar look of wanting in his eyes. Longing. You can't seem to discern his countenance, and he remains solely a mystery to you.

"Thank you," you manage to breathe out, unable to look away from the enigma in front of you. The prince just gives you a nod of acknowledgment. His lips part for just a split second, almost as if he were to utter several last few words. But he doesn't. He stares at your sheets for another moment and that's when you see him smile a little. A smile! As if he were proud of you.

That's when it dawns on you that he could've been the one who had so conveniently left out the book for you to see. He wants you to escape the sacrifice.

The prince doesn't turn around once. He leaves your room and you hear the click of the lock. For a minute, you stand still, trying to make something of that moment. There was just something about that prince that you can't really pinpoint. He seems broken in some way. A kind soul who wants the best for people but watches them die before him. It was kind of him to bring you wine. Though you appreciate the gesture, you need to be clear-headed to get out of this mess.

You poke your head out of the window and give Seokjin the all-clear.

"What took you so long??" he whispers. "I thought whoever knocked on your door killed you!" It's meant to be a joke, but the fact that that could've been a possibility doesn't make it very funny.

You just roll your eyes and check the security of your ties before roping them around your bedpost and then pushing your bed (with all your might) up against the window. Right at the last second, you grab the wine the prince had brought you. And with that, you begin to slide down your sheets, careful not to let the book slip from your grasps.

Seokjin's right by your side as soon as your feet touch the ground. He's poking at the wine and book under each of your arms. "Souvenir?" he asks, pointing to the wine bottle. "Don't mind if I do."

"Wait," you say, tugging the wine away from him. "We can't right now. We need to get out. Are there guards around here?"

"Why so serious?" Seokjin snorts. "No, this place is scarcely guarded." He carefully watches your expression. "Did something happen in there?"

"Uh, more like something didn't happen. If I stayed here until morning, I could've died."

Seokjin's eyebrows raise. "What??"

"No, listen, it's crazy," you say. "But look, let's get out of here first. I don't want to be gutted."

Seokjin gives you a strange look, but he follows your lead out of the castle, hiding under the shadows and moving swiftly through the night. When the two of you finally reach the outskirts of the poor village, Seokjin takes the lead. He seems to know the dirt paths fairly well, guiding you into a small, cramped hut with the smallest bed you've ever seen in your life. The covers are hastily made, so you can only assume that Seokjin had stayed here while you were lounging about in the castle's fancy furniture. It makes you feel a little guilty again.

Seokjin settles down on the ground and pats the bed for you. "I can take the floor."

You stare at him. "No, I'll take the floor. It wouldn't be fair."

Though he pauses for a little while, he nods quietly and quickly sits down on the bed. "What exactly happened in there?" he asks.

With a sigh, you pull out the book you'd technically stolen from the castle library and open up to the page that had revealed everything to you. "You see this picture?"

Seokjin squints, letting his eyes adjust in the dark to get a closer look at the image. And when he does get a proper glimpse of it, he gasps. "What the hell is that?"

"A sacrifice," you answer bluntly. "Apparently these royal folks believe in the gods. And apparently, they trick the villagers into being excited to come here. Only to sacrifice them for the sky god three days later."

"That's insane..." Seokjin whispers. "Damn. And most of the girls were disappointed that they weren't chosen."

"That's just... so... I don't know, wrong."

"It's weird and wrong. And you literally did almost die." Seokjin frowns. He slips off his shoes and climbs into the bed before taking one of his covers and handing it to you. "You sure you'd rather take the floor?"

"I think my back needs some humbling," you say. "It's been coddled too much in the castle."

Seokjin laughs. It's loud, boisterous and for once, you're actually not annoyed by it. It's welcoming. Familiar. As the two of you lie in the dark, a peaceful silence fills the one-roomed hut. You can even feel the unspoken words in the air. Or maybe they're just your internal thoughts. I kind of missed you. Thanks for coming for me. You're not that much of an asshole as you used to be.

Either way, sleep almost comes a little too easily. After such a long, panicked day, even the floor becomes comfortable to sleep on.

The morning sneaks up on you, and by the time you wake up, Seokjin's already made his bed (though not very well) and he's forlornly staring off into the distance in front of the hut's only window. Rubbing your eyes, you let out a sarcastic, "What's so interesting outside?"

Seokjin nearly jumps a foot in the air. "Nothing," he answers after he regains his composure. "I was just looking for something interesting."

You laugh, getting up from your situation on the floor. Your back mildly aches, but for Seokjin's sake, you don't bother to mention it. The man turns around and sighs. "We should leave."

"Yeah, before they hunt me down," you say, folding up the blanket you'd slept in and picking up the wine bottle.

Seokjin picks up the book. "We should leave this here."

You raise your eyebrows. "Leave it?"

"The villagers deserve to know what's really going on," Seokjin says. "I know the perfect spot to lay it out."

Half an hour later, after Seokjin had displayed the book in front of a worn-down podium where he swears all villagers pass by on their way to the field, you and your co-worker are walking out of the Cerulean Kingdom and towards the unknown. You tap your fingers on the wine bottle, staring at how the sun reflects off the dark glass. At this point, you have no idea where you and Seokjin are heading.

"We should've asked the Governess if she knew how many societies there are exactly," Seokjin sighs. "What if there are over a hundred?"

"And which society's gonna end up killing us?"

Seokjin jerks his head toward you, an indiscernible look on his face. "Don't give me that," he scoffs.

You struggle to make sense of yourself. "No, but it's just that these places are really dangerous. I mean, technically, in every society we've visited, they've kind of tried to kill us."

"Then do you want to go home?" Seokjin asks. He's careful when he asks this. Cautious.

"Of course I do. But I'm not sure if we have that choice."

Seokjin groans. "God, what if we're stuck in the future forever?"

"And we spend the rest of our lives just wandering around and collecting dirt on different societies?" You laugh at how absurd the idea is. "Maybe we should start writing a book."

Seokjin laughs along with you. "Chapter one, Atna, the obsession with education. Chapter two, Tagna. The obsession with equality. Chapter three, the Cerulean Kingdom, featuring their obsession with sacrificing young girls?" he says the last one as a question, waiting for you to correct him.

You actually smile, appreciating the small gesture. The Seokjin you used to know would never let anyone get the upper hand. "I actually think the Cerulean Kingdom was obsessed with... I don't know how to explain it. Material wealth? Opulence? But, like, excessively—to the point that splendor and richness and blue skies were more important than their citizens' lives and well-being."

"Really? And how did you take it?" Seokjin asks. He looks genuinely curious, so you grant him your answer.

"I might've kind of lost myself to the luxuries... and uh, the alcohol," you say, holding up the wine bottle as if to show Seokjin the proof. "It's... It was pretty stupid of me, but I couldn't help it. Money, wealth, it's just so desirable, you know? It could've killed me."

"But you fought through it," Seokjin says.

You shake your head, looking down at your feet in embarrassment. "Actually, I had some help."

"Help??" Seokjin says. "You mean your handsome knight in shining armor?" he snorts, puffing out his chest in self-admiration.

You roll your eyes. "No, the prince."

Seokjin whirls around at you, eyes wide. "You got the prince to help you???"

"Well, he didn't exactly help help me. But he indirectly helped me figure out about the sacrifice," you say. "I think he's the one who made it so that I discovered that book talking about the sacrifice, and he's the one who knocked on my door when I was about to escape. He saw what I was doing with my bedsheets but he didn't say anything. He kind of actually... smiled? And then he gave me some wine." Seokjin gives you a confused face. "I know. It was weird."

"I can't believe you got the prince to be your secret admirer. Was he at least hot?"

"Yeah, hotter than you," you snort. "And what can I say? I'm pretty hot too."

Seokjin just laughs and you're about to turn to him in surprise, confused as to where his sarcastic, argumentative personality had gone. But instead, he stops walking, prompting you to halt as well. "I think we're in the next place."

You frown at the vast land in front of you. "It looks... um, very..."

"Sand color," Seokjin finishes for you.

"No, that's tan."

"Looks slightly beige to me."

You huff. "Either way, this place is sort of... ugly. Very plain," you take note as you survey this foreign society.

Seokjin snorts. "For a person who can't dress very well, that's saying a lot," he laughs.

Aaaand he's back. Normally, you would've been offended, but it's also pretty true that when it comes to clothes, you have no idea what you're doing. So you decide to humor him, laughing along with him, and Seokjin raises his eyebrows. "Well, I'm just wondering what this society is obsessed with."

"It seems normal," Seokjin says. "Plain, albeit normal."

There are bustling crowds of people, their heads kept down and their clothes the closest to normalcy since you've even been trapped in the future. Everything seems... normal. There isn't much to describe, nor is there anything that appeals to the eye. The buildings that tower over everyone are squarish and dark—almost like it is back home. A single thought flits by: if all else goes wrong, you and Seokjin can stay here forever.

"What do you think of this place?" you whisper to Seokjin who's spending his time to survey his surroundings.

"I'm not sure," he replies. "I think... we'll have to ask around."

"This place doesn't seem too dangerous, right?" you say. "No one with a machete's gonna come to decapitate us?"

Seokjin snorts. "We'll see." But something about the way he says it sounds as if he's not expecting anything dangerous lurking in the corners of this society. The two of you can finally lower your guards.

"Excuse me? Hi, hello, we're a little lost," Seokjin calls, singling out a woman who keeps staring at her watch and refusing to make eye contact with your co-worker. "What is this place called? If you don't mind."

The woman finally looks up at Seokjin but stares at him strangely. "Tan."

Your brows furrow and you look to Seokjin to see how he's faring. He seems to be just as confused as you are. "Come again?" he asks politely. "I must've misheard you."

"This place," the woman sighs, careful to enunciate her words properly, "is called Tan."

You can't hold in the snort that comes out. "I told you the color was tan," you say, poking at Seokjin who's watching the woman fall back into the crowd, unable to be distinguished again.

"It's a weird name..." Seokjin says before he turns to you. "Are you sure you want to walk around here?"

"Well, we kind of need to figure out what Tan is all about, you know?" you giggle. "If we want to write that book."

Seokjin just smiles at you, though he disapprovingly shakes his head. "All right, then. We'll walk around a bit. But the moment we notice something's off, we're leaving. I don't think strangers are welcomed here."

You laugh out loud. "And since when were strangers welcomed anywhere else?"

"Very true," Seokjin says.

Walking side by side, you and Seokjin begin to explore the society of Tan—though there wasn't exactly much to explore. Most of the buildings looked identical to each other and all of the citizens were uninterested in a nice little chit-chat. In fact, everyone here is fucking boring, you conclude. Though their attire is normal and what you would consider as business casual, none of them seem to have an affinity for bright colors.

"Everyone here has quite a bland sense of style," Seokjin voices, a little too blatantly for your taste.

You whirl your head around at him, eyes wide. "You didn't have to say that so loudly!"

"Relax." He grins. "None of them even care."

He's right, though. What Seokjin said hadn't offended anyone. Instead, his blatant comment had been ignored. No one even bothered to look up.

"Maybe this is a world where they're obsessed with time management," you joke. "No time to dwindle or dawdle or even have a sense of humor, I think."

Seokjin looks horrified. "Well, that's not a fun way to live."

"Tell me about it."

Just as you're about to tell Seokjin that you two might be better off leaving this society (where it seems like nothing ever happens), you spot a single speck of color in a sea of dark indigos, blacks and grays. It's a bright red band that a rather tall man is wearing around his arm. But he's just like the others, head tucked down and eyes following his own shoes—nothing else.

Before you can make any more judgments, however, Seokjin's already calling over the man. "Hey!" he says, arms wide and welcoming. "Nice band!"

"Love the color!" you chime in, offering your nicest smile.

The tall man stops in his steps and he stares right at the two of you. Instead of taking what both of you had said as a compliment, the man looks a little ashamed. "Are you... mocking me?" Your eyes widen in shock at his words, but before either you or Seokjin can defend yourselves, the man mumbles under his breath, "But you two probably don't have the creative capacity to mock me, don't you?"

Now you're offended.

"Excuse me?" you say, crossing your arms over your chest. "I actually won my fifth-grade art contest so I don't know what you're talking about."

The tall man whips his head around at you. Almost habitually, his hand comes up to tug at his red armband as he stares curiously into your eyes. "You're... not from around here."

"We're definitely not," you laugh.

"Is that band you're wearing a bad thing?" Seokjin asks and your eyes enlarge at his invasive question. From your peripheral vision, you catch another person a bit further away wearing their red band, but they stand out from the crowd, eyes shimmering and glazed over as they seem lost in thought. That's when you also notice that the others tend to avoid these individuals with red bands. Even where you're standing right now, the bustling crowd has created a distinct path around the three of you.

"Ah... the band. It indicates that we have a disease," the man says. Upon closer look, you realize that the man is quite good-looking—he's even taller than Seokjin and has pretty dimples that appear when he presses his lips to a thin line. "Creative Imaginative Disorder. CID," he clarifies. "It's contagious. So you should probably stay away."

"Hold on a minute," you say, shaking your head in disbelief. "Is being... creative a disease around here???"

"So this is a world without creativity," Seokjin gapes. "It's so barren."

"You must be from far far away," the man says in awe. "For you, this," he gestures outwards to his society, "isn't normal."

"Yeah," Seokjin says. "Where we're from, creativity is actually allowed."

"It's funny. Because even in our world, creativity is pretty limited too," you say, "but at least we don't exactly call creativity a disease."

If Tan's obsession is just solely being against creativity, maybe it's not as dangerous as the other societies you and Seokjin have been to. At least no one seems to be out to kill you. The most you might get from Tan is a red armband and some discrimination from the non-creative folks. Unless there's something more to this society that you don't quite know yet.

"I was like them once," the man confesses. He gestures to the rather stiffly walking people. They nearly look like robots, with their eyes trained straight ahead of them and head seemingly empty but legs moving on their own. "I helped cure CID patients. Until I became one myself."

Your eyebrows raise. Cure creativity???

"You should go," the man says hastily. "You shouldn't stick around here and risk losing your creativity. Cure or no cure, in an environment like this, people like us just don't belong."

Now it makes too much sense to leave. How can you possibly live without creativity? Without imagination? Half of your insults toward Seokjin are thanks to your artistic thinking! Your grip around the wine bottle tightens, and you nudge Seokjin with your elbow. Hopefully, he gets the message that you want to leave.

He nods slightly before turning to the man. "Look, maybe they think creativity's a disease. Maybe you stand out like a sore thumb because of it. But what are they gonna do? Change the way you think?" Seokjin scoffs. "They can't. You should just embrace what you have... And I dunno, help some other poor folks salvage their creativity before it gets lost."

And for the first time, you find Seokjin admirable. Never in a million years would you have pinned him the type to be so adamant about creativity and the value of free-thinking. You always assumed he was a prissy, art-is-no-good, rational person. But there are apparently a lot of facets of Seokjin that you hadn't known before being stuck in the future with him.

The man lets out a small smile at Seokjin's words and gives the two of you a nod of acknowledgment. "Thank you," he says. "I'll keep that in mind." He slowly walks away from the two of you, though looking back once or twice just out of curiosity.

You and Seokjin stay standing, you wondering if Seokjin wants to leave as you do. But you're usually the bit more adventurous one, so maybe he wants to get moving too.

"Do you wanna leave?" Seokjin's the first to break the short silence. "We can explore a little more around here if you want. Unless you're afraid of losing your creativity or something."

Of course, Seokjin can't go a second without trying to challenge you. This time though, you won't take it. "I actually kind of want to leave," you say. "I'm not sure if there's even much to see."

"Scared to lose your creativity?" He snorts.

"Honestly? Yeah," you answer. "Let's go."

The two of you begin to walk away from Tan. And as short and innocuous your interaction with that society had been, for the most part, it's still a little shocking. You can't help but wonder how the hell a whole society can function without anyone attempting to think outside the box. It's depressing how they condemn a perfectly fine way of thinking. And it leaves several questions. Do they have music? Art? How do people live without any form of entertainment?

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

Seokjin's voice breaks you from your thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"You said earlier that our society doesn't allow us as much creativity as we'd like. You know, that it's limited."

"Oh, right." You turn to Seokjin and see that he looks a little confused. "I can elaborate," you offer and he nods happily in response. "The way I see it, we spend more than half of our life in school. And in school, we learn a lot of subjects, right? I dunno, I was always sort of bad at math and science when I was younger, so a lot of people just assumed I was dumb—even though I was constantly winning art contests and poetry slams. I thought being good at something made me smart, but I guess not. It's just that even back home, creativity and rationality aren't measured the same way. But whatever." You sigh, grimacing at grade school memories. "I'm not salty."

"Hm..." Seokjin hums. "You do have a point. And I... might've been one of those people who made fun of others for being bad at STEM."

You shoot him a look of disbelief. "I think creativity's harder to learn."

"Really? I always thought it's harder for us to learn concepts, you know, like math and science. I don't think we're biologically cut out to be very systematic. As in, I don't know, creativity comes to us more naturally."

In a way, he makes a good point. It's an interesting, theoretical discourse to have. "But here's the thing," you say. "From a young age, I think we're told to 'be logical' and use our heads in serious situations. If a child is bad at STEM, they're stupid. If they're bad at the arts, they're given a free pass from insults because they apparently have better things to accomplish. Our school systems are built to honor rationality and conforming. Creativity, though, is literally the backbone of our society. I mean, where do we spend our leisure time? Movies, books, music, television—all creativity. Do you get my point?"

Seokjin seems to be mulling over your ideas, an unreadable expression on his face. "Goddamn," he finally says. There's a dramatic pause. "I... I actually think... You know what? You're... you're—"

"Ooh, go ahead and say it." You grin.

Seokjin sighs. "You're right."

Your grin somehow widens as you sing-song, "Can't believe you finally admitted it!"

"Don't get too full of yourself," Seokjin grumps. "We should still be cautious, anyways. We were lucky this time with Tan. I'm not sure about the next society."

This time, it's your turn to acknowledge that Seokjin's right.

You have no idea how long you’ve been walking along the dirt soil with Seokjin before the next mysterious society shows up. It almost seems like it will never end. The wine bottle around your hand is sweaty and your fingers begin to prune in response.

“I’ll hold that if you want,” Seokjin says. “Think about the money we could make if we sold that back home. Wine from the future.”

You snort, handing him the wine bottle. “It should be at least a hundred thousand bucks,” you say. “For all of our struggles, you know?”

Seokjin nods his head. “We can brand it as the wine the royals would drink. And it wouldn’t even be a lie.”

Soon, the brown dirt soil morphs into a verdant green color of grass and a nicely paved, smooth sidewalk. With each step you and Seokjin take, the two of you become immersed in a completely new world. For the fifth time.

“This is the next one, huh?” Seokjin comments, looking around. “It looks like our suburbs back home.”

He’s right. The houses are quaint and fairly spaced apart, but there are plenty of cars crossing the roads and even more people walking about, hand in hand. Not just any people but young couples. From just one turn of your head, you spot at least three to four couples making out in public. You grimace at the gross display of PDA. When you were their age, you probably didn’t have your first kiss yet, too busy sticking your nose in a variety of books.

“Is it just me, or is this scene making you uncomfortable?” you say in a low voice, gesturing toward the lip-locked couples.

“This is probably where they obsess over raging teenage hormones,” Seokjin says.

You laugh but both you and he realize it might be a bit deeper than that. It always has.

“Let’s walk around,” you suggest. It’s not an outrageous suggestion, considering that these suburbs look quite friendly, otherwise harmless. And if, by chance, this place did turn out to be dangerous, you and Seokjin could pull one of your miracle solutions again and escape. You’ve done it before. You’re pretty sure you can do it again.

There are small cafes, restaurants, bookstores and smaller buildings lined up on the street, with people walking in and out of the doors. By people, you mean couples. Rarely do you seem to see a solitary figure wandering about the town. Hm.

Finally, you and Seokjin come across a building at the end of the widest street. It’s white in color and grand in size, but there’s nothing to indicate what the building is for. You cock your head in curiosity.

“Let’s go inside,” you say.

Seokjin looks at you warily. “I dunno… What if they try to turn us into one of those teenage hormonal messes back there?” he says, pointing behind him where a handful of couples are making out by a small water fountain. You’re not sure if he’s joking or if he’s genuinely worried.

“Oh, come on. I don’t think it’ll kill us or anything.”

Seokjin frowns. “That’s what we thought of Tagna and the Cerulean Kingdom, you know.”

He does kind of have a point. But you don’t really care. Your hand juts out, reaching for the handle of the large white door to the building. However, a sudden “Ahem” makes you freeze. That had definitely not been Seokjin.

“Hello. Good day.”

You and your co-worker whirl around to see a middle-aged man standing promptly behind the two of you. He’s got spectacles on his nose, which he pushes up slightly to get a better look out of them. Then, almost by reflex, he pulls out a rather thick book from inside his navy-colored coat.

“Ahem.” He clears his throat again. “Surname?” he then inquires in a surprisingly high-pitched, mosquito-like voice.

It’s almost by reflex.

“L/N.”

“Kim.”

The man frowns, holding up his hand. “Couples must have the same last name. Are you registered?”

Seokjin gives you a nervous look. “Registered for what?”

The man sighs. He then flips open his book, mumbling “Kim, Kim, Kim,” to himself before he looks up, shaking his head. “You’re not on here.”

“Oh, actually, we’re not from here,” you say. “We wouldn’t be registered.” Whatever you’re not registered for, you have no idea.

“Nonsense,” the man scoffs, pulling down his spectacles to glare at you and Seokjin. Despite his demeaning stance, you and Seokjin find the situation more strange than threatening. “You are together, no?” Before either of you can respond, he says, “Well, no matter. You must get married now. We’ll find you a household too. It’s a pity the two of you missed Truve Day. You would’ve gotten cake at your marriage contract ceremony.”

“Wait—” you say.

“We’re,” Seokjin laughs, “oh, we’re not together.”

“We’re not even in love,” you say, laughing along with Seokjin at the preposterous idea. You get married to him? Never in a million years. “We’re honestly just visiting,” you snort. “There’s really no need to pull out a marriage contract.”

The man frowns at you, his brows knitting together. “Clearly, you two have not taken any of our essential classes. Hmph.” He stares you down. “Snorting is quite an unladylike behavior.”

You scoff.

“And so is scoffing.”

Immediately, Seokjin turns to you, his eyes wide. “Uh, you sure you want to stay?”

You cross your arms over your chest, sizing up the man in the navy coat before grinning. “Oh, no. We’re staying. Until I figure out what the hell is going on.”

The man gasps. “Cursing is unladylike!!”

Seokjin looks at you, clearly unsure and uncomfortable. He’s fidgeting, maybe uncertain whether he should step in and stand up for you or let you defend yourself. He makes the right choice of staying silent, though.

You look the man right in the eye and smile as angelically as you can. “Well, maybe you should’ve considered the fact that I don’t wanna be fucking ladylike.”

The man looks faint. And you have never felt more satisfaction in your life.

Just as much as you expected, there are zero consequences to your ‘unladylike cursing.’ Well, except for two things. One, he confiscated your precious bottle of wine (much to your dismay) because it “wasn’t good for an expecting couple,” whatever the fuck that means. And two, you had to follow through by signing a marriage certificate with Seokjin. It’s only a minor problem—both you and Seokjin have wordlessly agreed that the certificate only exists in this society called Truve, where apparently, the divorce rate is a whopping zero percent.

The man you had intentionally cussed out was quite cold to you afterward, giving you a rude crash course of your ‘duties’ as a wife. And even hours after you saw him, you still remember the last thing he said to you two.

“Men go to work, women clean the house. You two look capable of doing that. May your new love for each other bring you prosperity.” A disconcerting pause. “You’ll find what you need in the bedroom drawer for tonight.”

Of course, by singling out the bedroom drawer, the man had unknowingly sparked an intense curiosity in both you and Seokjin. So much so that the bedroom drawer is the first place the two of you check in the new home that the two of you can now call yours. What follows is something neither of you had expected.

“Toys???” you gasp, nearly falling back into Seokjin’s chest and darting away from the drawer you’d just opened.

“Children’s toys?” Seokjin asks, unable to see from behind you.

“No, sex toys!” you shriek, moving over to show Seokjin a colorful assortment of high-quality sex toys. The ones that probably cost a little too much for what they do.

“No way!” Seokjin rummages around in the rather spacious drawer. “There’s lube in here too! Ooh. It’s flavored.”

“Dude???”

“They have condoms! They’re flavored too!! And lingerie!” He looks at you. “Wanna test to see if that’s flavored?”

“No thanks, jerkface.” You push him aside to get a better look at the items that had been so conveniently placed by the bed. “Oh, look. They have pamphlets. You pick one up, flipping through the glossy pages and frowning all the while.

“What does it say?”

You make a face. “They’ve made a little too detailed guide of sex for dummies… Maybe Truve is obsessed with love. At least, the idea of it.”

“You sure they’re not obsessed with sex?” Seokjin snorts, taking another look inside the drawer and scoffing. “I mean, the evidence is pretty clear.”

“I don’t know… If they were obsessed with sex, we would’ve seen a couple of orgies out there. But everyone outside was fully clothed,” you say. “And look. These pamphlets have it all wrong. They barely say anything about the female orgasm. It’s just pages and pages of blowjob manuals.”

“I didn’t know you were a sex connoisseur,” Seokjin says.

“Oh, shut up. This place is backasswards.”

“That, I can agree with. Seems like the patriarchy wanted to make itself more apparent around here. It’s even worse than back home.”

You turn to him in shock. “Never would’ve pinned you to be the type to be aware of that.”

He just shrugs, evading a straight answer. Then, he changes the topic. “It’s crazy that I’m expected to go to work tomorrow. I don’t even know what kind of job they’re going to give me!”

“I’m sure you can survive a day. Or maybe two. Or three?”

Seokjin raises his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of settling down here.”

“If I get to stay home all day and watch T.V. every day… I dunno. Sounds pretty tempting,” you grin. “Also, I’ve always wanted to live in the suburbs.”

“They expect you to cook and clean, you know.”

“Shit.” You might’ve forgotten about that bit. You became a career woman for a reason—you’re absolute shit in the kitchen and you’re definitely not the neatest person in the world. And back home, you and Seokjin had the same job. In fact, in terms of seniority, you were the better-ranked employee. “At least this place isn’t dangerous, right?” One look at Seokjin’s face and you know he doesn’t want to settle down here. Something about this place makes him uncomfortable. You let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. We’ll leave after one day.”

“You were seriously considering staying here?” Seokjin looks at you in bewilderment. “That man treated you so badly.”

“Oh, I’m pretty used to that,” you snort. “Even back home.” You were a part of my struggles back home, you want to add. But you don’t. And you’re not even that sure why.

Seokjin just slams the open drawer shut in response, lightly sitting on the single—but generously sized bed—in the vast room. “Did you see how young the couples outside were? Do you think they were all married?”

“Yes and yes,” you say. “Hopefully, they don’t force it… like they did to us.”

“Why? You don’t like your new husband?” Seokjin grins.

You look down at him, a disgusted look on your face. (Though you’re not sure if you’re actually disgusted with this man anymore.) “I think I could’ve done better,” you tease.

“Oh, please. You get to see this face every day now that we’re ‘together,’ ” Seokjin jokes, framing his face and batting his lashes. You roll your eyes, but can’t help but let a smile slip onto your lips.

“Whatever. Are you any good in the kitchen? I’m hungry. And it’s probably been a while since you had a proper dinner, huh?”

“Am I good in the kitchen?” Seokjin dramatically rolls up his sleeves. “I’m fucking amazing.”

He then proceeds to march into the kitchen and takes a look in the fridge, which is stocked full of fresh fruits and veggies. You check the cabinets to see a healthy amount of sugars and spices, along with plentiful silverware. “Can you really whip something up from scratch?”

Seokjin decides to take the challenge.

He ends up making fucking ratatouille. It almost brings you back to your childhood, when you’d first watched that movie and had maybe possibly softened up to rats. But after that trip to Atna, not so much.

And the ratatouille is delicious. You’ve never had that dish before, but it’s exactly what you expected it would taste like and more. Seokjin practically glows when you compliment his cooking skills, and he’s so glad that he can’t even come up with any throwaway insults or snide comments.

The two of you eat until you’re full and unable to eat another bite. The leftovers go in the fridge and you and Seokjin take care of the mess in the kitchen together. By the time you two are done, it’s pitch black outside and sleep is calling.

After having to fend for himself in an impoverished environment for two days, Seokjin’s more than elated to be going to bed (a really nice bed too) on a full stomach. Except, of course, he was going to have to share his sleeping space.

“I mean, at least the bed is huge,” you say. “There’s a lot of room.”

“They expect us to have sex in it. Of course it’s huge.”

You roll your eyes at his bluntness. “Whatever. Let’s get to it then.”

Seokjin jerks his head around at you so fast that he winces. “Let’s get to having sex???”

You give him an unamused look. “No, you dim-witted twit. Sleep.”

Seokjin laughs nervously. “...Right…”

It’s actually a little funny how embarrassed he seems to be right now. You can’t help but poke a little fun. “Did I get you excited there?”

Seokjin scoffs. “You definitely did not. You would make my dick shrink in size.”

“And I’m as dry as the Sahara Desert.”

There aren’t exactly enough pillows to make a convenient pillow barrier between the two of you, but the bed is so large that a barrier isn’t needed, anyway. You and Seokjin slip into the covers quietly. Maybe because you’ve suddenly become hyperaware of what the fuck is actually happening. You’re getting in the same bed as your co-worker. Not only that, but a co-worker you would’ve paid to sack in the stomach a week or two ago. But now, you don’t hate him that much. Do you even hate him at all?

God, that makes it even more awkward.

You lie as still as possible, for some reason finding the noise of shifting blankets being the most embarrassing thing ever. Seokjin lies still as well, and it doesn’t really help dissolve the awkwardness of the situation. At this rate, you might never even fall asleep.

Finally, you can’t fucking take this anymore.

“Hey… you awake?” you whisper.

Seokjin grunts a reply, “Yeah.”

“I was just teasing you.”

“Teasing me?”

You stare at the ceiling, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Are you really going to explain yourself? “I didn’t actually think you wanted to… I dunno, hook up with me. I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” An awkward pause. “If it makes you feel better, you’re objectively hot, and a lot of our co-workers think the same.”

You never expected Seokjin to laugh. “Actually, you’re not so bad yourself.” You didn’t expect him to say that either.

You turn around. And your heart drops as you meet his dark eyes. You realize he had turned around to face you too.

“What are you turning around for?” you scoff quietly, feeling the need—for some reason—to whisper.

“You turned around too,” Seokjin points out.

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes. But damn. Against the white sheets and illuminated by the moonlight flooding in through the window, Seokjin does look pretty fucking great. For a second, you can feel an uncomfortable twisting in your stomach. Your heart clenches. And the butterflies are released from their cage, fluttering in your gut. You want them to die, but they’re soaring.

Oh, fuck.

Seokjin raises his eyebrows. He knows you’re looking at him, completely shamelessly. But he looks right back. There’s an inexplicable silence, bottled-up feelings caged inside.

Suddenly, you’re leaning forward. You can’t even stop yourself. Maybe it was purely in the moment. Maybe your brain has been fried. Or maybe… maybe you’ve really wanted to do this and you’ve been holding back for who knows how long.

Your lips lock with Seokjin’s, and through your half-lidded eyes, you see his own eyes widen. But he never pulls away. Instead, he pulls closer. You want to scream into the kiss, but even if you did, no one could’ve heard because he envelops his lips around yours, deepening it with just a simple tilt of his head.

He’s reciprocating. He’s… reciprocating!

It’s almost too much to comprehend. His hands snake into your hair, fisting it and bringing your body closer to his. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe, and when you finally have to pull away for breath, he stares at you through half-lidded eyes—before he’s leaning in again. It’s more than enough for you to know that this isn’t a mistake.

He kisses you again, harder, as if to prove his feelings to you. And now, all you can do is reciprocate.

You wake to the sound of some imbecile quite loudly knocking on your door way too early in the morning. Groaning, you blink your eyes open, only to find Seokjin already staring at you. Then, you realize you’re nestled in his arms. The two of you stare at each other before you jump apart.

“G-Good morning!” Seokjin manages to stutter. He runs a hand through his messy hair, looking around frantically to find the doorway out of the bedroom.

“Y-Yeah,” you manage to say. “Good morning.”

“I’ll, um, check to see who’s at the door,” he says quickly before darting out. You hear him open the door and hear a man in a gruff voice ask:

“Why aren’t you ready for work, new guy? They need you in ten minutes.” There’s a pause. “Oh. Oh. I see. Nice bed hair.” You can practically see the suggestive wink on that faceless man’s face. You roll your eyes. “Well, meet me outside in five.” He whistles before Seokjin shuts the door.

He rushes back into the bedroom, panting in panic. “Help me get ready in five!”

“On it!”

While Seokjin’s frantically trying to tame his hair while brushing his teeth, you pull out clothes from the closet. You’re not as fashionable as he is, but he’s going to have to deal with his rather plain mix and match for today. After Seokjin comes back from the bathroom, he takes one look at your outfit for him and smiles. Without another word, he gets dressed, you turning around to give him some privacy.

“I’m done, you know,” he says.

You turn around again to find him staring at you, unabashedly. “What? Do I have bed hair too?”

“No.” He just smiles, shaking his head. “But last night… Pretty great, right?” Before you can get a word in, he dashes out of the bedroom, swinging the front door open and leaving. “See you at five!”

You scoff at the way he just leaves. “Really fucking smooth of you!” you call. But you smile to yourself. So there had been something there. You can’t wait to see where it goes from here, especially when things had felt so right last night.

And after the morning chaos, you take your leisure to freshen up, taking a while to choose an outfit from the closet that even Seokjin would be proud of. Just when you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup, there’s another knock on your door.

You open it, expecting almost anything, but definitely not a group of women—er, more like girls. They all look fairly young. At least seven years younger than you.

“I heard you moved in yesterday!” one of them chirps. “We just wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood!”

Another pulls out a plate of hot fudge brownies. Having skipped breakfast, the sight and smell of the treats make you salivate a little. “And here’s our welcome gift.”

You accept it with both hands. Then, remembering your manners you say, “Would you like to come in?”

“Oh, yes please!”

And that is how you get five strangers in your new home. These five strangers also won’t shut the fuck up about their husbands. You find out quickly that all they want to do is talk about sex—but they cover it over with the notion that it’s normal. In Truve, you learn, it’s the norm for couples to marry young and have children young, which explains the pregnancies of three of the five women. You find that the group is full of eighteen and nineteen-year-olds.

“They shipped in new pamphlets yesterday,” one of them giggles. “It had a detailed manual of blowjobs. Needless to say, we tried it out last night.”

You cringe. This is the kind of stuff you tell your closest of your closest friends—not random newcomers on the block. The other women, have a different reaction from you, however. They gasp and cheer.

“Did he like it?”

“Maybe I should try it with him.”

“It sounds like so much fun!”

Normally, in conversations, you can’t shut up. But today, you’re unusually uncomfortable enough to keep quiet. Until they start asking you personal questions.

“Oh, Y/N, was it? How was last night with your husband? It was special, right? They usually stock up on nice lingerie—”

“It was fucking fantastic,” you cut her off. “Amazing. So great. I chained him up and dicked him down. I used to call him an ‘asshole’ all the time. Never meant it so literally until yesterday. Oh yeah, and we might do it again today.”

One of the girls’ mouths drops open. The others are stunned into silence.

You take your cue to stand up, clearing up the empty plates littered with brownie crumbs. “Well! It was so nice meeting all of you,” you smile as nicely as you can. Now please fucking leave the premises. Except you don’t say that. And you don’t have to. The women are already scrambling up from their seats, all giving you strange looks before mumbling their goodbyes and practically sprinting out of your home.

You grin. What a triumph. You’d been stuck in their awful company for what? Nearly four hours? Listening to their sex stories about their husbands. It was torture. But you’re proud of yourself for getting yourself out of that mess.

You have no idea Seokjin had faced a very similar situation at his workplace.

“No, no, you don’t understand. Missionary isn’t even an option for us. She keeps whining about me not kissing her enough. Like, you gotta be stupid not to know that there’s a fucking reason that I don’t kiss you. Also the same reason we do doggy.”

“That’s rough, man. You deserved to be matched with someone more attractive.”

“You guys wouldn’t believe it, but last week, I washed the car and all I got was a lousy handjob in return.”

“I honestly can believe it, dude. My wife baked a pretty shitty cake on my birthday and then expected me to ‘fuck her romantically.’ What the fuck does that even mean???”

“They do one favor for us and act like they deserve the world.”

Seokjin has never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He fidgets, completely silenced by possibly the worst men he’s ever met in his whole life. In normal circumstances, he would’ve picked a damn fight. But he’s shocked. So shocked that he literally can’t lace together his words for the time being.

“Hey, new guy. Didn’t you take her virginity last night?”

Seokjin has never felt a bigger urge to sock a person in the stomach. How dare they even ask. His blood boils but he manages to keep his calm.

“Oh no. She was so experienced,” he practically groans from the nonexistent memories. “She had me all pinned on the bed. Called me a ‘good boy’ and I almost nutted right there.” He smiles. “You guys should try taking it in the asshole some time. It feels—”

The men have already left the area before he can continue. Seokjin grins.

“You’ll never fucking believe the shit I had to deal with today,” you say the moment you hear Seokjin want in from the front door.

He circles around to find you sitting on the couch, arms crossed over your chest. “Oh yeah?” Seokjin laughs. “Try me. I could’ve had it worse.”

What follows is an exchange of stories and the two of you laughing your asses off at how similar your experiences had lined up.

“The toxic masculinity was borderlining psychopathic behaviors!” Seokjin exclaims. “They just wouldn’t shut up.”

“Ugh, and the internalized misogyny,” you sigh. “I seriously could not sit through that conversation. It was like all their thoughts were consumed with their husband.”

“Well, now I’m glad we’re leaving this place today.”

You laugh. “Me too. At least the bed was nice, though.”

“Was it the bed that was nice or was it really me?” Seokjin asks.

“Hm.” You pause to think. “The bed.” But with the teasing lilt to your voice, Seokjin knows that you’re joking. “I’m pretty pissed they took our wine, though. That was supposed to give us a healthy profit.”

“Right?” Seokjin says. “But hey, we got a good marriage certificate out of it.” He points at the framed thing on the wall. “Want that as a souvenir?”

You snort. “No thanks. I have something else in mind.”

Seokjin follows you into the bedroom where you open up the drawer and rummage around to pull up the neatly folded lingerie. Finding a small bag in the closet, you shove the lingerie in there, turning to Seokjin to gauge his reaction.

He laughs.

“What? Good lingerie’s expensive back home.”

“In that case…” Seokjin reaches forward and grabs the sex toys of all things before setting them in the now bulging bag.

You are quite impressed. “Good thinking. We can make a couple of hundred bucks from that!”

Seokjin laughs. “Oh? Who said anything about selling these goodies?”

Your eyes go wide and you have to turn away, feeling your cheats heating up unnaturally.

But with your souvenirs, you and Seokjin walk straight out of Truve, not regretting leaving so soon at all. As the suburbs disappear behind you and the black sidewalk morphs into brown dirt, you begin to overthink.

So much has happened in Truve that it’s going to take some time to unpack. You and Seokjin hadn’t exactly had the time to discuss your relationship with each other. Are you now co-workers with make-out benefits? What is going on? Are you even attracted to him?

One glance at the man, and you realize the answer to that question is a resounding yes. But is he attracted to you? You’re not exactly a mind reader, so you wouldn’t know. But he did lean in for that second kiss. And he was the one who deepened it in the first place.

Either way, you vow that you’re not going to be the one who brings it up. Unfortunately for you, Seokjin’s thinking the same thing.

The new society looks a lot like a ripoff of Tan. All you can see are bustling people, keeping their heads down in the most low-profile manner as they move without barely being conscious of their surroundings. The only real difference you can spot is that there aren’t any folks with red armbands this time. This place obsesses over another thing.

Definitely not lights. It’s a little too dark here for your liking. Why are the street lights so scarce? The buildings look the same as well; much more than Tan. In fact, you predict that if you walk around here for a bit too long, you can see yourself get lost forever. Every single street, every corner looks identical to the other.

Seokjin moves closer to you, bumping your shoulders together. “No threats, so far?” he asks. You like that he’s checking. If you were stuck in this place alone, you would’ve been terrified. But Seokjin’s here with you, making subtle indications that he cares.

“I don’t think so,” you say. “Let’s try to ask around what this place is about.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pardon me!”

“Hello?”

“Hey! Wait, please?”

No matter how much you and Seokjin call for help, no one bothers to stop. No one even bothers to look up, so encompassed in their own little worlds.

“I don’t understand this place,” you confess. “I don't get why everyone is ignoring us. Nobody cares about anybody else.”

“I’m confused too,” Seokjin says. “There are no street names. And look, even the buildings. They all look the same. We could seriously get lost around here.”

“I think they definitely have a thing against names,” you snort, rolling your eyes.

“Chapter six, the society without a name,” Seokjin laughs. “How mysterious.”

Even though he tries to make a joke to lighten the atmosphere, you can’t help but feel a little grim in such a dark, isolated place. There are so many people, but why do you feel practically alone? Why do you feel so lost? So unknown? It’s unsettling.

You look up at Seokjin’s face to find his brows furrowed, looking around his surroundings. He looks just as perplexed as you are. Maybe you should leave this eerie place early. But knowing nothing about it? The mystery has to be cracked—it always has.

A warm hand suddenly encompasses your wrist. Your head jerks up to stare at Seokjin, who offers you a warm smile. And upon your slight nod of acknowledgment, his hand slips down to hold yours, your fingers fitting perfectly together. His hands warm yours and you can’t help but stand closer to him.

The two of you walk past hundreds of apartment buildings that all have the same exact sidewalk leading up to the same exact door and the same exact shrubs decorating the entrance. The only thing that differentiates these buildings are the barely legibly written numbers in the color of black on the sides. But they blend in with the dark color of the buildings, making it impossible to read without squinting your eyes for another impossibly long amount of time. And those numbers mean nothing to you. Why name things in numbers when numbers don’t tell you a single thing? 42069 can easily be a pancake house while 69420 could be a work office. It’s ineffective. Almost as if this place values anonymity.

Finally, you and Seokjin duck into an eerily empty aisle, catching your breaths from your brisk walk. You realize after all this time, your hands are still intertwined together. Seokjin notices too, and he gives your hand a small squeeze.

“Thanks,” you blurt out.

Seokjin turns, his brows raised but lips in a nice smile. “For…?”

“I dunno. For a lot.” You shrug, trying to play off as nonchalant, but there are a lot of times you wouldn’t have survived in the future without Seokjin. “And for this.” You hold up your intertwined hands. “I needed it, Seokjin.”

His heart feels warm. And he realizes it must be because this is the first time that you have ever uttered his name. It sounds good in your voice. He feels a little honored that you no longer feel the need to call him an ‘asshole’ or ‘jerkface.’ And this feeling is especially nice because you’re the only one who knows who he is in this place where everyone seems lost. Maybe this means your relationship has evolved over the course of your journey.

“I want to thank you too,” Seokjin says. He looks down at his feet, almost embarrassed that he’s admitting this out loud. “And… sort of maybe apologize. I wasn’t the nicest co-worker.”

You giggle at his bashful state. “You know what? I’m sorry too. We both couldn’t leave each other alone.”

“And now, we’re technically married. Ironic isn’t it?” Seokjin laughs.

You gasp. “Goddammit, we totally forgot to bring the marriage certificate! It would’ve been such a funny souvenir.”

“Yeah, if we ever get back, that is,” Seokjin snorts. “As far as we know, we’re a married couple in the future. Or, maybe our marriage only exists in Truve.”

You shrug. “We never got a proper wedding. And we didn’t even get a cake!” you huff. “That was not a real marriage.”

Seokjin just laughs, nudging into you almost instinctively—out of fondness. Since when did he feel the need to get so close to you? Since when did he even acquire feelings for you? He has absolutely no idea. But he can’t exactly get himself out of this now, can he? He’s stuck with you. And for the first time, he’s not pissed off about it. No, he’s happy. There isn’t any other person he would’ve like to journey through future dystopian societies together.

“If there are more societies out there,” you say, nearly reading his mind, “I think we’ll do well to come across them. And maybe when we find one that we like… We can stay.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees. “I learned so much in such little time too.”

The experience had taught both of you life lessons that you would’ve either never learned or taken another decade to realize. And the idea of settling down with Seokjin seems so right, now. In the beginning, you would’ve much rather just wandered off on your own. But you’re a team now. More than co-workers. Friends. And then maybe something more. You wouldn’t mind being stuck here forever if he were always by your side.

“So, are we going to do anything about these folks around here?” you say. “Something to maybe get them to open their eyes?”

It’s become a sort of a habit between the two of you to leave a very lasting impression on each of the societies you visit.

“Hm.” Seokjin stares straight into your eyes before a bright grin spreads on his face. “You like art right?”

It takes about three hours to find what Seokjin is looking for. You think if he at least told you what he was trying to find, you could’ve gotten it over with two hours ago. But nevertheless, you appreciate the semi-romantic(?) gesture of trying to surprise you. He takes you—hand-in-hand—into some kind of home improvement store and stops right in front of the spray paint aisle.

You look at him. “Is this the surprise?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly supposed to be a surprise,” Seokjin says, scratching his head. “But I wasn’t really sure if this kind of place would have spray paint. I didn’t want to tell you, get your hopes up and then realize that didn’t exist around here.”

You just laugh. “That’s very sweet of you to think that through.”

“I know,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I’m amazing.”

“Just as much as I am.”

He grins at your answer. “Now, what do you think about…” he leans into you to whisper, “shoplifting and vandalizing?”

Turns out, you used to think breaking the law as a lawyer was the worst possible thing you could do. But… maybe in dire circumstances, it’s a different story.

You hold a can of spray paint in your hand, standing before a tall building and grinning at Seokjin. “Think we can finish five of these by morning?”

The streets are barren, everyone tucked away in their apartment buildings, probably sleeping or doing whatever more introverted activities you can think of. No one had even cared to stop you and Seokjin from leaving the home improvement store with bags and bags of spray paint. It must be around 12 to 2 a.m., though there are no clocks or watchtowers to make sure.

“I know we can finish by morning,” Seokjin says. “But you’ll have to do most of it. Arts and crafts were never really my thing.”

You roll your eyes but smile. “Then we better get working then.”

It’s been years since you’ve painted and another several years since you’ve held a can of spray paint. But art has always been your second nature (your first being arguing). It’s easy to get back on track and you let yourself paint on the buildings, letting your arms move whichever way the vision in your mind wants it to go. Sometimes, you glance over at Seokjin, who’s more or less struggling, paint stains on his clothes and face, looking frustrated at his lack of artistic intelligence. It’s a little endearing the way he turns pouty like that. You’ll just walk over to him, position his arms, covering his hand with yours, and then help him draw something he’s proud of.

For once, conversation is pretty scarce between the two of you. But it’s not because there’s nothing to say. No, there’s really plenty to say. The two of you communicate almost wordlessly.

Can you pass me another can? you’d say with your eyes.

But what color do you want? he’d reply.

I dunno. Surprise me.

He’d tossed you a pitch-black one, and you’d roll your eyes. Not that one, you giant twit. I can’t paint black over black.

Oh, I know. A grin. I was just teasing you.

He’d then toss you a can that’d produce a pretty shade of lilac, and you’d taken it gratefully. Thanks.

No problem.

Conversation continues like that for hours on end. You’re typically not one to spend the night up, but you can’t exactly remember the last time you were so captivated by a project—so much so that you felt like you had to sacrifice precious sleep time for it.

By the time the sun peeks out over the horizon, you and Seokjin are finished, albeit tired and paint-covered. The two of you admire your work, staring up at the five buildings with matching grins on your faces.

You’d painted over those silly numbers, instead, writing five familiar names in their place. One building is named Atna—half of it spray-painted with green grass and blue, crystal buildings, the other half of it brown and gray. Seokjin had attempted to draw the Governess in the middle, but she ended up turning out as more of a messy blob. The building next to it is called Tagna. The bottom of it is fiery red—you’d drawn the flames licking up and engulfing piles of bodies, but above the basement is a surgical society, all prim and proper. And above it all, is Everland. Then, you’d drawn and named the Cerulean Kingdom, the whole building drenched in the prettiest blue shade that you could find. Seokjin drew the village, the castle and the clouds. You drew the skies opening up to reveal a deity’s outstretched hands. Tan’s building was plain—but Seokjin had insisted on painting a red horizontal stripe running across the sides. A perfect splash of color and a dash of creativity. The last building was Truve, which was a little hard to draw. (Seokjin had suggested making a visual representation of what was in that bedroom drawer. You had whacked him for even suggesting that in the first place.) But finally, the two of you had opted for drawing hundreds of pastel-colored hearts across the building. Seokjin might’ve tried to recreate the marriage certificate, but it ended up looking like a used tissue more than anything else. You like his efforts, though.

And there you have it. A physical representation of all the places you’ve visited with Seokjin over the past couple of weeks. Some more traumatic than others but all as equally enlightening. Now, this nameless society has five named buildings.

“That should get them started with naming stuff,” Seokjin laughs. “Atna, Tagna, the Cerulean Kingdom, Tan, Truve—they really don’t have an excuse now.”

You snort, throwing down your spray paint cans to slip your hand into Seokjin’s. He takes it gladly, looking at your graffiti masterpieces in awe. “We should probably get out of here,” you whisper. “Before they start waking up.”

Hand in hand, the two of you begin to walk out of the nameless place, leaving behind five buildings, five names and five memories. Where people had lost their identities and became mindless robots, you and Seokjin had learned to appreciate each other. People need each other.

“A world with too much anonymity is a dangerous one,” Seokjin says, breaking the silence as the two of you begin to trek on the familiar dirt again. “No one cares.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “We shoplifted and they didn't notice. Wait. Do you think they’ll even notice the buildings?”

“They better,” Seokjin snorts. “After all of our efforts?”

“Right... But god, I still can’t believe this is the future,” you sigh. “Pick your poison, huh?”

Seokjin nods. “But I’m sure others will come and rebel rightfully and in larger numbers.”

“They better.”

“But out of all the societies we’d been to, which one would you want to live in the most?” Seokjin asks. He’s genuinely curious, waiting for your answer as he swings your intertwined hands back and forth, the bag of souvenirs from Truve clinging tightly in his other hand.

“You can’t ask me that!” you scoff. “Three of them are deadly and the other three are so irritating I’d die of stress!”

“But if you had to choose!”

“Well, I don’t trust myself to score very high on a standardized test,” you hum thoughtfully. “Which means I’d be tossed into Dystopia, and I’ll probably die there. The rats will dance around my grave.”

“True.”

You shoot Seokjin an ungrateful look.

“But Tagna is just as scary. If I didn’t know the truth, then… maybe? But I do know the truth and it makes the whole place a thousand times worse than it already was. Also, they enforce the strictest rules and you know I hate following stupid guidelines.”

“Also true.”

You laugh. “I suppose the Cerulean Kingdom affects a smaller portion of the general population. But even then, if I don’t get chosen to live in the castle and get my guts sacrificed, I get to live in a village and farm all day…”

“But better a farmer than a sacrifice.”

“Of course! Not something I'd enjoy, though. Tan seems okay, but I’m not sure how long I can survive without my usual creative outlets. And I won’t last in Truve. That place makes me mad.”

“You really can’t choose?”

“Well, I think maybe if I was with you, I’d find the last society we visited pretty tolerable,” you say, rubbing your chin. “Even if things don’t officially have names, we can name them ourselves, you know?”

Seokjin smiles. “I agree with you too. If all else fails, maybe we can go back there and… settle down?”

It’s a nervous question but a possibility that you don’t mind at all. “Of course,” you say, mirroring his emotions. “And just to make it clear… You’re saying that you’re completely okay with the fact that we might never make it home, if you could be with me.”

“Don’t put it that way,” Seokjin scoffs. “That makes me sound like I’m… I’m whipped.”

“Aren’t you?” You squeeze your hands together. “Because I might be.”

You and Seokjin grin at each other, lost in each other’s eyes and drunk in each other’s emotions. You don’t need wine to feel this. So distracted by each other’s presence, neither of you realize that the familiar skyscrapers are coming back into view, the vast dirt land growing farther and farther away from you.

Neither of you realizes what had exactly happened until you halt in your tracks. “Wait. That’s our building.”

Sure enough, standing straight in front of you is the familiar law firm. Seokjin’s jaw drops. “No way…” He looks down at his other hand to find it void of the bag and the souvenirs. "NO WAY!" he shouts. "There goes our proof!"

“How the fuck did neither of us notice??” You throw your hands in the air.

“I was too busy looking at you!” Seokjin answers.

“Well, I was too busy looking at you!” you counter.

The two of you erupt in simultaneous laughter, hands still tightly interwoven.

“I can’t believe that happened,” you say. “All of that. Were we both dreaming?”

Seokjin snorts. “Maybe. No one would believe us, though. Did any time pass while we were gone?”

You fish out your phone, face aghast to finally see it working in the first place. “No. It’s the same day as we left.”

“Even stranger,” Seokjin comments. A sweet ding! indicates that Seokjin had gotten a message on his phone, which he pulls out. “Shit, the subs! They just sent their sub orders!”

“All of this happened during one lunch break??” you snort. “They’re gonna have a hard time believing their eyes when we walk back in without wanting to rip each other's throats.”

Seokjin grins. “It’s gonna be hilarious.”

“But do you really think the world’s gonna practically end like that?” you say a little more cautiously. “And then we’re gonna split off into six weird societies?”

“Who knows?” Seokjin shrugs. “Maybe we got transported to an alternate universe. Maybe not. Guess no one bothered to owe us an explanation.”

You shrug. “A lot of things happen without an explanation, anyway.”

“What? Like somehow I’m attracted to you?” Seokjin snorts. “When I’m a whole ten out of ten??"

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. You can’t help but get lost in conversation with Seokjin as the two of you try to make your way to Taylor’s Sub Kitchen without getting distracted this time. But it’s hard not to get distracted by Seokjin’s presence. Not when he’s using every second to tease you and impress you with his otherworldly confidence.

Your judgment has been right since the very beginning. Seokjin is a pompous asshole. But he knows it and you tolerate it. Because underneath that hard-headed façade is a man who cares and a man who worries. Maybe you won’t settle down with him in those six strange societies—not when the one you’re living in right now will suffice just fine.

“Hey, wanna make a coffee stop?” Seokjin asks, shifting the bags of subs on his arms. (He hadn’t let you carry a single one.)

“Now???” you ask. Seokjin’s not usually one to be so spontaneous.

“No, Y/N,” he laughs. “After work.”

God, your name sounds so good coming from him.

“Oh?” You smile. “So it’s a date.”

Seokjin smiles right back at you. “Of course.”

—masterpost

—masterlist

[seymour-butz-stuff]

In 2007, Jeff Bezos, then a multibillionaire and now the world’s richest man, did not pay a penny in federal income taxes. He achieved the feat again in 2011. In 2018, Tesla founder Elon Musk, the second-richest person in the world, also paid no federal income taxes.

Michael Bloomberg managed to do the same in recent years. Billionaire investor Carl Icahn did it twice. George Soros paid no federal income tax three years in a row.

ProPublica has obtained a vast trove of Internal Revenue Service data on the tax returns of thousands of the nation’s wealthiest people, covering more than 15 years. The data provides an unprecedented look inside the financial lives of America’s titans, including Warren Buffett, Bill Gates, Rupert Murdoch and Mark Zuckerberg. It shows not just their income and taxes, but also their investments, stock trades, gambling winnings and even the results of audits.

Taken together, it demolishes the cornerstone myth of the American tax system: that everyone pays their fair share and the richest Americans pay the most. The IRS records show that the wealthiest can — perfectly legally — pay income taxes that are only a tiny fraction of the hundreds of millions, if not billions, their fortunes grow each year.

Many Americans live paycheck to paycheck, amassing little wealth and paying the federal government a percentage of their income that rises if they earn more. In recent years, the median American household earned about $70,000 annually and paid 14% in federal taxes. The highest income tax rate, 37%, kicked in this year, for couples, on earnings above $628,300.

The confidential tax records obtained by ProPublica show that the ultrarich effectively sidestep this system.

I recommend going to the website to read the rest of the report, but the non-interactive text parts are below. Just in case it mysteriously vanishes.

America’s billionaires avail themselves of tax-avoidance strategies beyond the reach of ordinary people. Their wealth derives from the skyrocketing value of their assets, like stock and property. Those gains are not defined by U.S. laws as taxable income unless and until the billionaires sell.

To capture the financial reality of the richest Americans, ProPublica undertook an analysis that has never been done before. We compared how much in taxes the 25 richest Americans paid each year to how much Forbes estimated their wealth grew in that same time period.

We’re going to call this their true tax rate.

The results are stark. According to Forbes, those 25 people saw their worth rise a collective $401 billion from 2014 to 2018. They paid a total of $13.6 billion in federal income taxes in those five years, the IRS data shows. That’s a staggering sum, but it amounts to a true tax rate of only 3.4%.

It’s a completely different picture for middle-class Americans, for example, wage earners in their early 40s who have amassed a typical amount of wealth for people their age. From 2014 to 2018, such households saw their net worth expand by about $65,000 after taxes on average, mostly due to the rise in value of their homes. But because the vast bulk of their earnings were salaries, their tax bills were almost as much, nearly $62,000, over that five-year period.

No one among the 25 wealthiest avoided as much tax as Buffett, the grandfatherly centibillionaire. That’s perhaps surprising, given his public stance as an advocate of higher taxes for the rich. According to Forbes, his riches rose $24.3 billion between 2014 and 2018. Over those years, the data shows, Buffett reported paying $23.7 million in taxes. 

That works out to a true tax rate of 0.1%, or less than 10 cents for every $100 he added to his wealth.

In the coming months, ProPublica will use the IRS data we have obtained to explore in detail how the ultrawealthy avoid taxes, exploit loopholes and escape scrutiny from federal auditors.

Experts have long understood the broad outlines of how little the wealthy are taxed in the United States, and many lay people have long suspected the same thing.

But few specifics about individuals ever emerge in public. Tax information is among the most zealously guarded secrets in the federal government. ProPublica has decided to reveal individual tax information of some of the wealthiest Americans because it is only by seeing specifics that the public can understand the realities of the country’s tax system.

Consider Bezos’ 2007, one of the years he paid zero in federal income taxes. Amazon’s stock more than doubled. Bezos’ fortune leapt $3.8 billion, according to Forbes, whose wealth estimates are widely cited. How did a person enjoying that sort of wealth explosion end up paying no income tax?

In that year, Bezos, who filed his taxes jointly with his then-wife, MacKenzie Scott, reported a paltry (for him) $46 million in income, largely from interest and dividend payments on outside investments. He was able to offset every penny he earned with losses from side investments and various deductions, like interest expenses on debts and the vague catchall category of “other expenses.”

In 2011, a year in which his wealth held roughly steady at $18 billion, Bezos filed a tax return reporting he lost money — his income that year was more than offset by investment losses. What’s more, because, according to the tax law, he made so little, he even claimed and received a $4,000 tax credit for his children.

His tax avoidance is even more striking if you examine 2006 to 2018, a period for which ProPublica has complete data. Bezos’ wealth increased by $127 billion, according to Forbes, but he reported a total of $6.5 billion in income. The $1.4 billion he paid in personal federal taxes is a massive number — yet it amounts to a 1.1% true tax rate on the rise in his fortune.

The revelations provided by the IRS data come at a crucial moment. Wealth inequality has become one of the defining issues of our age. The president and Congress are considering the most ambitious tax increases in decades on those with high incomes. But the American tax conversation has been dominated by debate over incremental changes, such as whether the top tax rate should be 39.6% rather than 37%.

ProPublica’s data shows that while some wealthy Americans, such as hedge fund managers, would pay more taxes under the current Biden administration proposals, the vast majority of the top 25 would see little change.

The tax data was provided to ProPublica after we published a series of articles scrutinizing the IRS. The articles exposed how years of budget cuts have hobbled the agency’s ability to enforce the law and how the largest corporations and the rich have benefited from the IRS’ weakness. They also showed how people in poor regions are now more likely to be audited than those in affluent areas.

ProPublica is not disclosing how it obtained the data, which was given to us in raw form, with no conditions or conclusions. ProPublica reporters spent months processing and analyzing the material to transform it into a usable database.

We then verified the information by comparing elements of it with dozens of already public tax details (in court documents, politicians’ financial disclosures and news stories) as well as by vetting it with individuals whose tax information is contained in the trove. Every person whose tax information is described in this story was asked to comment. Those who responded, including Buffett, Bloomberg and Icahn, all said they had paid the taxes they owed.

A spokesman for Soros said in a statement: “Between 2016 and 2018 George Soros lost money on his investments, therefore he did not owe federal income taxes in those years. Mr. Soros has long supported higher taxes for wealthy Americans.” Personal and corporate representatives of Bezos declined to receive detailed questions about the matter. ProPublica attempted to reach Scott through her divorce attorney, a personal representative and family members; she did not respond. Musk responded to an initial query with a lone punctuation mark: “?” After we sent detailed questions to him, he did not reply.

One of the billionaires mentioned in this article objected, arguing that publishing personal tax information is a violation of privacy. We have concluded that the public interest in knowing this information at this pivotal moment outweighs that legitimate concern.

The consequences of allowing the most prosperous to game the tax system have been profound. Federal budgets, apart from military spending, have been constrained for decades. Roads and bridges have crumbled, social services have withered and the solvency of Social Security and Medicare is perpetually in question.

There is an even more fundamental issue than which programs get funded or not: Taxes are a kind of collective sacrifice. No one loves giving their hard-earned money to the government. But the system works only as long as it’s perceived to be fair.

Our analysis of tax data for the 25 richest Americans quantifies just how unfair the system has become.

By the end of 2018, the 25 were worth $1.1 trillion.

For comparison, it would take 14.3 million ordinary American wage earners put together to equal that same amount of wealth.

The personal federal tax bill for the top 25 in 2018: $1.9 billion.

The bill for the wage earners: $143 billion.

The idea of a regular tax on income, much less on wealth, does not appear in the country’s founding documents. In fact, Article 1 of the U.S. Constitution explicitly prohibits “direct” taxes on citizens under most circumstances. This meant that for decades, the U.S. government mainly funded itself through “indirect” taxes: tariffs and levies on consumer goods like tobacco and alcohol.

With the costs of the Civil War looming, Congress imposed a national income tax in 1861. The wealthy helped force its repeal soon after the war ended. (Their pique could only have been exacerbated by the fact that the law required public disclosure. The annual income of the moguls of the day — $1.3 million for William Astor; $576,000 for Cornelius Vanderbilt — was listed in the pages of The New York Times in 1865.)

By the late 19th and early 20th century, wealth inequality was acute and the political climate was changing. The federal government began expanding, creating agencies to protect food, workers and more. It needed funding, but tariffs were pinching regular Americans more than the rich. The Supreme Court had rejected an 1894 law that would have created an income tax. So Congress moved to amend the Constitution. The 16th Amendment was ratified in 1913 and gave the government power “to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived.”

In the early years, the personal income tax worked as Congress intended, falling squarely on the richest. In 1918, only 15% of American families owed any tax. The top 1% paid 80% of the revenue raised, according to historian W. Elliot Brownlee.

But a question remained: What would count as income and what wouldn’t? In 1916, a woman named Myrtle Macomber received a dividend for her Standard Oil of California shares. She owed taxes, thanks to the new law. The dividend had not come in cash, however. It came in the form of an additional share for every two shares she already held. She paid the taxes and then brought a court challenge: Yes, she’d gotten a bit richer, but she hadn’t received any money. Therefore, she argued, she’d received no “income.”

Four years later, the Supreme Court agreed. In Eisner v. Macomber, the high court ruled that income derived only from proceeds. A person needed to sell an asset — stock, bond or building — and reap some money before it could be taxed.

Since then, the concept that income comes only from proceeds — when gains are “realized” — has been the bedrock of the U.S. tax system. Wages are taxed. Cash dividends are taxed. Gains from selling assets are taxed. But if a taxpayer hasn’t sold anything, there is no income and therefore no tax.

Contemporary critics of Macomber were plentiful and prescient. Cordell Hull, the congressman known as the “father” of the income tax, assailed the decision, according to scholar Marjorie Kornhauser. Hull predicted that tax avoidance would become common. The ruling opened a gaping loophole, Hull warned, allowing industrialists to build a company and borrow against the stock to pay living expenses. Anyone could “live upon the value” of their company stock “without selling it, and of course, without ever paying” tax, he said.

Hull’s prediction would reach full flower only decades later, spurred by a series of epochal economic, legal and cultural changes that began to gather momentum in the 1970s. Antitrust enforcers increasingly accepted mergers and stopped trying to break up huge corporations. For their part, companies came to obsess over the value of their stock to the exclusion of nearly everything else. That helped give rise in the last 40 years to a series of corporate monoliths — beginning with Microsoft and Oracle in the 1980s and 1990s and continuing to Amazon, Google, Facebook and Apple today — that often have concentrated ownership, high profit margins and rich share prices. The winner-take-all economy has created modern fortunes that by some measures eclipse those of John D. Rockefeller, J.P. Morgan and Andrew Carnegie.

In the here and now, the ultrawealthy use an array of techniques that aren’t available to those of lesser means to get around the tax system.

Certainly, there are illegal tax evaders among them, but it turns out billionaires don’t have to evade taxes exotically and illicitly — they can avoid them routinely and legally.

Most Americans have to work to live. When they do, they get paid — and they get taxed. The federal government considers almost every dollar workers earn to be “income,” and employers take taxes directly out of their paychecks.

The Bezoses of the world have no need to be paid a salary. Bezos’ Amazon wages have long been set at the middle-class level of around $80,000 a year.

For years, there’s been something of a competition among elite founder-CEOs to go even lower. Steve Jobs took $1 in salary when he returned to Apple in the 1990s. Facebook’s Zuckerberg, Oracle’s Larry Ellison and Google’s Larry Page have all done the same.

Yet this is not the self-effacing gesture it appears to be: Wages are taxed at a high rate. The top 25 wealthiest Americans reported $158 million in wages in 2018, according to the IRS data. That’s a mere 1.1% of what they listed on their tax forms as their total reported income. The rest mostly came from dividends and the sale of stock, bonds or other investments, which are taxed at lower rates than wages.

As Congressman Hull envisioned long ago, the ultrawealthy typically hold fast to shares in the companies they’ve founded. Many titans of the 21st century sit on mountains of what are known as unrealized gains, the total size of which fluctuates each day as stock prices rise and fall. Of the $4.25 trillion in wealth held by U.S. billionaires, some $2.7 trillion is unrealized, according to Emmanuel Saez and Gabriel Zucman, economists at the University of California, Berkeley.

Buffett has famously held onto his stock in the company he founded, Berkshire Hathaway, the conglomerate that owns Geico, Duracell and significant stakes in American Express and Coca-Cola. That has allowed Buffett to largely avoid transforming his wealth into income. From 2015 through 2018, he reported annual income ranging from $11.6 million to $25 million. That may seem like a lot, but Buffett ranks as roughly the world’s sixth-richest person — he’s worth $110 billion as of Forbes’ estimate in May 2021. At least 14,000 U.S. taxpayers in 2015 reported higher income than him, according to IRS data.

There’s also a second strategy Buffett relies on that minimizes income, and therefore, taxes. Berkshire does not pay a dividend, the sum (a piece of the profits, in theory) that many companies pay each quarter to those who own their stock. Buffett has always argued that it is better to use that money to find investments for Berkshire that will further boost the value of shares held by him and other investors. If Berkshire had offered anywhere close to the average dividend in recent years, Buffett would have received over $1 billion in dividend income and owed hundreds of millions in taxes each year.

Many Silicon Valley and infotech companies have emulated Buffett’s model, eschewing stock dividends, at least for a time. In the 1980s and 1990s, companies like Microsoft and Oracle offered shareholders rocketing growth and profits but did not pay dividends. Google, Facebook, Amazon and Tesla do not pay dividends.

In a detailed written response, Buffett defended his practices but did not directly address ProPublica’s true tax rate calculation. “I continue to believe that the tax code should be changed substantially,” he wrote, adding that he thought “huge dynastic wealth is not desirable for our society.”

The decision not to have Berkshire pay dividends has been supported by the vast majority of his shareholders. “I can’t think of any large public company with shareholders so united in their reinvestment beliefs,” he wrote. And he pointed out that Berkshire Hathaway pays significant corporate taxes, accounting for 1.5% of total U.S. corporate taxes in 2019 and 2020.

Buffett reiterated that he has begun giving his enormous fortune away and ultimately plans to donate 99.5% of it to charity. “I believe the money will be of more use to society if disbursed philanthropically than if it is used to slightly reduce an ever-increasing U.S. debt,” he wrote.

So how do megabillionaires pay their megabills while opting for $1 salaries and hanging onto their stock? According to public documents and experts, the answer for some is borrowing money — lots of it.

For regular people, borrowing money is often something done out of necessity, say for a car or a home. But for the ultrawealthy, it can be a way to access billions without producing income, and thus, income tax.

The tax math provides a clear incentive for this. If you own a company and take a huge salary, you’ll pay 37% in income tax on the bulk of it. Sell stock and you’ll pay 20% in capital gains tax — and lose some control over your company. But take out a loan, and these days you’ll pay a single-digit interest rate and no tax; since loans must be paid back, the IRS doesn’t consider them income. Banks typically require collateral, but the wealthy have plenty of that.

The vast majority of the ultrawealthy’s loans do not appear in the tax records obtained by ProPublica since they are generally not disclosed to the IRS. But occasionally, the loans are disclosed in securities filings. In 2014, for example, Oracle revealed that its CEO, Ellison, had a credit line secured by about $10 billion of his shares.

Last year Tesla reported that Musk had pledged some 92 million shares, which were worth about $57.7 billion as of May 29, 2021, as collateral for personal loans.

With the exception of one year when he exercised more than a billion dollars in stock options, Musk’s tax bills in no way reflect the fortune he has at his disposal. In 2015, he paid $68,000 in federal income tax. In 2017, it was $65,000, and in 2018 he paid no federal income tax. Between 2014 and 2018, he had a true tax rate of 3.27%.

The IRS records provide glimpses of other massive loans. In both 2016 and 2017, investor Carl Icahn, who ranks as the 40th-wealthiest American on the Forbes list, paid no federal income taxes despite reporting a total of $544 million in adjusted gross income (which the IRS defines as earnings minus items like student loan interest payments or alimony). Icahn had an outstanding loan of $1.2 billion with Bank of America among other loans, according to the IRS data. It was technically a mortgage because it was secured, at least in part, by Manhattan penthouse apartments and other properties.

Borrowing offers multiple benefits to Icahn: He gets huge tranches of cash to turbocharge his investment returns. Then he gets to deduct the interest from his taxes. In an interview, Icahn explained that he reports the profits and losses of his business empire on his personal taxes.

Icahn acknowledged that he is a “big borrower. I do borrow a lot of money.” Asked if he takes out loans also to lower his tax bill, Icahn said: “No, not at all. My borrowing is to win. I enjoy the competition. I enjoy winning.”

He said adjusted gross income was a misleading figure for him. After taking hundreds of millions in deductions for the interest on his loans, he registered tax losses for both years, he said. “I didn’t make money because, unfortunately for me, my interest was higher than my whole adjusted income.”

Asked whether it was appropriate that he had paid no income tax in certain years, Icahn said he was perplexed by the question. “There’s a reason it’s called income tax,” he said. “The reason is if, if you’re a poor person, a rich person, if you are Apple — if you have no income, you don’t pay taxes.” He added: “Do you think a rich person should pay taxes no matter what? I don’t think it’s germane. How can you ask me that question?”

Skeptics might question our analysis of how little the superrich pay in taxes. For one, they might argue that owners of companies get hit by corporate taxes. They also might counter that some billionaires cannot avoid income — and therefore taxes. And after death, the common understanding goes, there’s a final no-escape clause: the estate tax, which imposes a steep tax rate on sums over $11.7 million.

ProPublica found that none of these factors alter the fundamental picture.

Take corporate taxes. When companies pay them, economists say, these costs are passed on to the companies’ owners, workers or even consumers. Models differ, but they generally assume big stockholders shoulder the lion’s share.

Corporate taxes, however, have plummeted in recent decades in what has become a golden age of corporate tax avoidance. By sending profits abroad, companies like Google, Facebook, Microsoft and Apple have often paid little or no U.S. corporate tax.

For some of the nation’s wealthiest people, particularly Bezos and Musk, adding corporate taxes to the equation would hardly change anything at all. Other companies like Berkshire Hathaway and Walmart do pay more, which means that for people like Buffett and the Waltons, corporate tax could add significantly to their burden.

It is also true that some billionaires don’t avoid taxes by avoiding incomes. In 2018, nine of the 25 wealthiest Americans reported more than $500 million in income and three more than $1 billion.

In such cases, though, the data obtained by ProPublica shows billionaires have a palette of tax-avoidance options to offset their gains using credits, deductions (which can include charitable donations) or losses to lower or even zero out their tax bills. Some own sports teams that offer such lucrative write-offs that owners often end up paying far lower tax rates than their millionaire players. Others own commercial buildings that steadily rise in value but nevertheless can be used to throw off paper losses that offset income.

Michael Bloomberg, the 13th-richest American on the Forbes list, often reports high income because the profits of the private company he controls flow mainly to him.

In 2018, he reported income of $1.9 billion. When it came to his taxes, Bloomberg managed to slash his bill by using deductions made possible by tax cuts passed during the Trump administration, charitable donations of $968.3 million and credits for having paid foreign taxes. The end result was that he paid $70.7 million in income tax on that almost $2 billion in income. That amounts to just a 3.7% conventional income tax rate. Between 2014 and 2018, Bloomberg had a true tax rate of 1.30%.

In a statement, a spokesman for Bloomberg noted that as a candidate, Bloomberg had advocated for a variety of tax hikes on the wealthy. “Mike Bloomberg pays the maximum tax rate on all federal, state, local and international taxable income as prescribed by law,” the spokesman wrote. And he cited Bloomberg’s philanthropic giving, offering the calculation that “taken together, what Mike gives to charity and pays in taxes amounts to approximately 75% of his annual income.”

The statement also noted: “The release of a private citizen’s tax returns should raise real privacy concerns regardless of political affiliation or views on tax policy. In the United States no private citizen should fear the illegal release of their taxes. We intend to use all legal means at our disposal to determine which individual or government entity leaked these and ensure that they are held responsible.”

Ultimately, after decades of wealth accumulation, the estate tax is supposed to serve as a backstop, allowing authorities an opportunity to finally take a piece of giant fortunes before they pass to a new generation. But in reality, preparing for death is more like the last stage of tax avoidance for the ultrawealthy.

University of Southern California tax law professor Edward McCaffery has summarized the entire arc with the catchphrase “buy, borrow, die.”

The notion of dying as a tax benefit seems paradoxical. Normally when someone sells an asset, even a minute before they die, they owe 20% capital gains tax. But at death, that changes. Any capital gains till that moment are not taxed. This allows the ultrarich and their heirs to avoid paying billions in taxes. The “step-up in basis” is widely recognized by experts across the political spectrum as a flaw in the code.

Then comes the estate tax, which, at 40%, is among the highest in the federal code. This tax is supposed to give the government one last chance to get a piece of all those unrealized gains and other assets the wealthiest Americans accumulate over their lifetimes.

It’s clear, though, from aggregate IRS data, tax research and what little trickles into the public arena about estate planning of the wealthy that they can readily escape turning over almost half of the value of their estates. Many of the richest create foundations for philanthropic giving, which provide large charitable tax deductions during their lifetimes and bypass the estate tax when they die.

Wealth managers offer clients a range of opaque and complicated trusts that allow the wealthiest Americans to give large sums to their heirs without paying estate taxes. The IRS data obtained by ProPublica gives some insight into the ultrawealthy’s estate planning, showing hundreds of these trusts.

The result is that large fortunes can pass largely intact from one generation to the next. Of the 25 richest people in America today, about a quarter are heirs: three are Waltons, two are scions of the Mars candy fortune and one is the son of Estée Lauder.

In the past year and a half, hundreds of thousands of Americans have died from COVID-19, while millions were thrown out of work. But one of the bleakest periods in American history turned out to be one of the most lucrative for billionaires. They added $1.2 trillion to their fortunes from January 2020 to the end of April of this year, according to Forbes.

That windfall is among the many factors that have led the country to an inflection point, one that traces back to a half-century of growing wealth inequality and the financial crisis of 2008, which left many with lasting economic damage. American history is rich with such turns. There have been famous acts of tax resistance, like the Boston Tea Party, countered by less well-known efforts to have the rich pay more.

One such incident, over half a century ago, appeared as if it might spark great change. President Lyndon Johnson’s outgoing treasury secretary, Joseph Barr, shocked the nation when he revealed that 155 Americans making over $200,000 (about $1.6 million today) had paid no taxes. That group, he told the Senate, included 21 millionaires.

“We face now the possibility of a taxpayer revolt if we do not soon make major reforms in our income taxes,” Barr said. Members of Congress received more furious letters about the tax scofflaws that year than they did about the Vietnam War.

Congress did pass some reforms, but the long-term trend was a revolt in the opposite direction, which then accelerated with the election of Ronald Reagan in 1980. Since then, through a combination of political donations, lobbying, charitable giving and even direct bids for political office, the ultrawealthy have helped shape the debate about taxation in their favor.

One apparent exception: Buffett, who broke ranks with his billionaire cohort to call for higher taxes on the rich. In a famous New York Times op-ed in 2011, Buffett wrote, “My friends and I have been coddled long enough by a billionaire-friendly Congress. It’s time for our government to get serious about shared sacrifice.”

Buffett did something in that article that few Americans do: He publicly revealed how much he had paid in personal federal taxes the previous year ($6.9 million). Separately, Forbes estimated his fortune had risen $3 billion that year. Using that information, an observer could have calculated his true tax rate; it was 0.2%. But then, as now, the discussion that ensued on taxes was centered on the traditional income tax rate.

In 2011, President Barack Obama proposed legislation, known as the Buffett Rule. It would have raised income tax rates on people reporting over a million dollars a year. It didn’t pass. Even if it had, however, the Buffett Rule wouldn’t have raised Buffett’s taxes significantly. If you can avoid income, you can avoid taxes.

Today, just a few years after Republicans passed a massive tax cut that disproportionately benefited the wealthy, the country may be facing another swing of the pendulum, back toward a popular demand to raise taxes on the wealthy. In the face of growing inequality and with spending ambitions that rival those of Franklin D. Roosevelt or Johnson, the Biden administration has proposed a slate of changes. These include raising the tax rates on people making over $400,000 and bumping the top income tax rate from 37% to 39.6%, with a top rate for long-term capital gains to match that. The administration also wants to up the corporate tax rate and to increase the IRS’ budget.

Some Democrats have gone further, floating ideas that challenge the tax structure as it’s existed for the last century. Oregon Sen. Ron Wyden, the chairman of the Senate Finance Committee, has proposed taxing unrealized capital gains, a shot through the heart of Macomber. Sens. Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders have proposed wealth taxes.

Aggressive new laws would likely inspire new, sophisticated avoidance techniques. A few countries, including Switzerland and Spain, have wealth taxes on a small scale. Several, most recently France, have abandoned them as unworkable. Opponents contend that they are complicated to administer, as it is hard to value assets, particularly of private companies and property.

What it would take for a fundamental overhaul of the U.S. tax system is not clear. But the IRS data obtained by ProPublica illuminates that all of these conversations have been taking place in a vacuum. Neither political leaders nor the public have ever had an accurate picture of how comprehensively the wealthiest Americans avoid paying taxes.

Buffett and his fellow billionaires have known this secret for a long time. As Buffett put it in 2011: “There’s been class warfare going on for the last 20 years, and my class has won.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Howard Dean's racist, genocidal pharma sellout

Remember Howard Dean, the progressive champion who campaigned on equitable health care and other desperately needed policies?

He's dead.

He's been replaced by Howard Dean, the not-a-lobbyist who won't tell anyone what he does for the giant lobbying firm Dentons.

The old Howard Dean supported single-payer healthcare. The new Dean opposes it.

But then, that new Dean works for Dentons, the largest law firm in the world, alongside Newt Gingrich, as a "senior advisor" to the firm's lobbying arm.

https://theintercept.com/2016/01/14/howard-dean-lobbyist/

Dentons lobbies for pretty unsavory characters, including Big Health. Dentons owes its world-beating scale to a 2015 merger with the massive Chinese law-firm Dacheng, which gave it access to the vast fortunes spent by Chinese state-owned industries to lobby the US government.

Last month, the new Howard Dean published a remarkable op-ed in Barron's, opposing any measure to permit the world's poorest countries to manufacture generic versions of the covid vaccines they desperately need.

https://www.barrons.com/articles/india-wants-to-copy-american-vaccines-biden-shouldnt-fall-for-it-51615511350

The arguments Dean fields for this are tired, racist, and manifestly untrue arguments, straight out of Big Pharma's playbook:

I. Poor countries can't make vaccines (reality: poor countries are already among the world's largest pharmaceutical manufacturers) and;

II.  No one will invest in pharma if poor people don't have to pay extortionate royalties in exchange for their lives (reality: pharma doesn't invest in pharma! The pharmaceutical industry is entirely and totally dependent on public R&D spending).

As Lee Fang writes in The Intercept, there's an explanation for this surprising change of heart: "[Dean] reversed his positions on virtually every major progressive health policy issue since moving to work in the world of corporate influence peddling."

https://theintercept.com/2021/04/08/howard-dean-biden-covid-vaccines/

Dean insists he's not a lobbyist, but he sure acts like one, trading on his reputation as a "liberal lion" to sell policies to benefit pharma at the expense of the public - like his work with BIO to secure exclusivity for breast-cancer treatments.

https://theintercept.com/2016/01/21/howard-dean-despite-denials-has-long-sad-history-of-selling-himself-on-k-street/

This would all be appalling on its own terms - a medical doctor who convinced progressives (including me) to volunteer for his presidential bid, selling out to corporate health-care profiteers, but when it comes to vaccines, this goes beyond selling out. It's genocidal.

As things stand, 85 of the poorest countries will not have widespread vaccine access until 2023. That's not just a death sentence for the Global South - it's also a chance for the new mutant strains to develop and endanger the whole human race.

https://www.eiu.com/n/85-poor-countries-will-not-have-access-to-coronavirus-vaccines/

The racist lie that brown people can't manufacture their own vaccines is being peddled to maximize profits for some of the cruellest, most profitable, most publicly subsidized companies on Earth - and it's not merely unfair, it's an existential threat to human civilization.

As Steven W Thrasher writes in Scientific American, the entire vaccine passport debate is a bullshit distraction from the real issue: getting vaccines to every person who can safely take them, in every country on Earth.

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/global-vaccine-equity-is-much-more-important-than-vaccine-passports/

As Thrasher writes, today, borders are being used to decide who can get a vaccine. Tomorrow, vaccine passports would punish those unvaccinated people by denying them the right to cross borders. Vaccine equity is the only just vaccine passport.

"It is morally reprehensible (not to mention epidemiologically self-defeating) that countries can prevent vaccines from crossing their borders and want their own citizens to be able to cross those borders and travel to countries that are denied vaccines -- and then use the threat of infection to keep the people of those unvaccinated countries inside them...A vaccine passport conflates the notions of biology, nationalism and surveillance; it builds on and passively accepts the ethics of passport privilege in general."

Thrasher cites "Covid-19 vaccine passports will harm sustainable development," in The British Medical Journal, adding, "The idea that one 'needs' to go on vacation or attend an academic conference abroad at this point in the pandemic is morally unjustifiable. This is especially true if you are traveling to or from a place where you know others do not have access to vaccines—and you want a special piece of paper proving that you do, which would allow you to cross the border."

https://blogs.bmj.com/bmj/2021/03/30/covid-19-vaccine-passports-will-harm-sustainable-development/

This is the kind of thing you'd expect Dr Howard Dean, the progressive lion who championed single-payer and curbs on drug prices, to write. But he's not. Instead, he's peddling racism and profiteering to serve his corporate paymasters.

RIP, Dr Dean. You sold your legacy - and our future - for a mess of potage.

Image: David (modified): https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Howard_Dean_(44658398).jpg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[firemanshug]

I have a weird Headcanon based on a fangane I played that the law in 9 was made to stop Wily from stealing robots, but it only applied to newer models. But the general public disagreed with this sentiment...

Would a mini story about Cutman joining a protest to protect the people participating be weird?

"MAYOR DEACON IS UNFAIR!" Screeched the Robot Rights Party, holding their various signs. Some of them had things like Freedom of software, others had JAILBREAKING NOW as well as Bad to the environment - Deacon is a rat, but one sign just stood out from the rest.

A single one, held by a little red-headed robot.

Indeed, it was Cut Man's sign. But rather than having messages in the favor of the Open Free Software Community, or the Rainbow Hat Hackers, or even the Emerald Planeteers, he just held one saying Justice for my brother Jewel in his rather messy lettering. As always, the woodcutting lightbot was in a foul mood. Then again, he had gotten the tearful news from Jewel Man earlier that morning.

That was not fair. The law was polemic to say the least and the parties were really, really divided evenly, although rumors had it that there was dirty money from the big tech corporations (who naturally would benefit the most from selling roughly the same models with nominal upgrades year after year if it meant more money) involved that made the law a thing.

But as he was holding his sign, he was spotted by a wilybot. Not just any wilybot. To his dismay, he had been seen by his worst enemy, his most horrid rival. A face and name he wouldn't forget, even in such a situation.

Wood Man.

Seeing as Cut had been far to the back of the protest, whose members focused themselves to the front of the mayor's office building, this was the perfect opportunity to approach the pair of scissors.

Once the log walked close, the lumberjack machine turned away.

"Cut."

"Wood Man."

"What brings you here?"

"Anger that they're gonna cut the head off my brother. And you?"

"I see. How unsurprising. You could have joined the Emerald Planeteers."

"Fuck off, Wood Man. This isn't the fucking time for your regurgitated hippie personal-green-aesop nonsense. I'm trying to save my brother."

"But wouldn't you put the green aesop with your brother's iminent execution together to make a stronger argument?"

"He's a gemcutter, you dumb foreskin fucker."

"He was a gemcutter."

"Shut up you old tree. If you care so much about the eepees, why don't you take a recycled bit of paper, or even better, one of your leaves, scribble a message, and then leave me alone?!"

"Fine. But I will punch you in the face after this is done."

"Bite me, bitch."

As Wood Man left the proximity, Cut Man used the opportunity to blow a raspberry at the leaving wilybot.

[cloviaglade]

THE CRIMSON FLOWER ROUTE CORPORATE UNION AU

Yeah it came to me in a dream shared it with a friend and she said I should inflict it on the world so here we go

Warning: It's super long but I broke it up into chunks

(note not all members of the house fall into the categories listed also I'm not the best with corporate terms and positions. Also this was made for fun and isn't that serious)

The houses

The Black eagles generally were in accounting or sales. They dealt with a lot of the customers firsthand and were considered expendable

Blue lions where mostly in HR or IT

Golden deer mostly worked in maintenance and public relations.

Staff and church members are members of the board. Flayn has her position on the board despite her age because nepotism

The Seiros Co:

It's a large company that provide a large array of services and products that promote physical and emotional well-being. The company started out with good intentions but soon became a corporate monster

The company provides a host of benefits to its employees including on site housing, on site restraunts, on site pools gyms ect. They even have the best insurance on the planet. They even have horse therapy.

However they have to pay premiums on the health insurance, their rent is docted from their pay, they have to pay for on-site facilities, and those living on site are heavily encouraged to work overtime.

a lot of this is justified by cover every single health expense and days of for minor colds. Many employees seek mental health care more often than they seek physical care.

The on site living conditions vary heavily. Most are just a small white room with a single bed and a dresser. No visitors after certain hours and forget about outside visitors. However rumors are spreading that the board members have spacious luxury apartments.

The pay without all the benefits is not a wage you could live off of. But with the rent for these rooms doct from your pay you couldn't reasonably save up for different arrangements.

The strike begins:

Edelguard was finally fed up watching her team struggling. She hears constantly about how her workers are not making enough. How they have to scrape because they needed new clothes or shoes. Or worse how Petra wasn't able to support her sick grandfather

She hired a lawyer Hubert to look into information about their contracts and compare everything to labor laws. She needed to know how much of this was legal and if there was anything to be done about it.

Huberts lawfirm dealt with several lawsuits in the past. They are considered ruthless in court however media painted them out to be money hungry and demented

As expected, it was legal (mostly due to lack of regulation for these types of benefits) but really unfair, So Hubert suggested a strike. His firm would handle all the legal matters as they prepared a lawsuit and to unionize.

Edelguard was careful to organize it in private. Nothing was emailed. Nothing to tract them. Flyers were handwritten and posted in the dorms inviting members to secret meeting on slow hours.

Roles

What everyone did on the day of the strike/position they were in the office.

Black eagles

Edalguard: head of sales- she got everyone in her department and many others in different departments to simply stop working for the day when she commanded everyone to stop working via megaphone. She suck in hubert and went to a private meeting room to set up a list of demands.

Hubert: head of Vestra lawfirm- he snuck past security with the help of Edelguard. He brought a laptop and a phone with Hotspot so he could video call the rest of his attorneys from inside the conference room. Once the strike was in full swing he toured the place with Edelguard gathering evidence.

Ferdinand: senior sale manager has the highest customer satisfaction - when the strike was well underway he sent a mass email to everyone in every department including the CEO and founder herself in a very professional tone about how there is a strike. Lornez replied immediately and they when to the breakroom to enjoy tea while on the clock.

Lindhart: IT software specialist - first thing he did was turn off all the bans on websites. Everyone could go on whatever website they wanted to. He left the download blocker up and other safety precautions in place. Others could looks at memes and scroll through social media ect. He then returns to his dorm and takes a paid nap.

Caspar: manager in accounting slow but very accurate and a real team player - he hated the no pets policy with a burning passion so he let all the stray and feral cats that hang around the building in through one of the side doors. They stayed mostly on the ground floor and a few made a mess under the desks. He played with the strays with a few of his co-workers.

Bernadette: customer service rep. - she hated the calls filled with angry people. She clocked out, disconnected he phone, ran into her dorm and screamed into her pillow until calm. Once she calmed down enough she did some embroidery.

Dorothea: sales representative- has the highest upsale rate - she gets into her car and just leaves. She is still clocked in. Nobody knows where she went. Some say she met with a lover, others say she went on a binge. Nobody really knows.

Petra: bilingual sales rep. - she signed her phone off and immediately called up her family overseas. She proceeded to catch up and talk with her family for hours. She rarely got to speak with them due to the difference in timezones.

Blue lions

Dimitri: head of IT - he doesn't actually know much about IT and has little intrest in it. He got the job because his dad recommended him. With the outside website ban lifted and the lost of control of his department he frantically tried to get everything under control

Dedue: cyber security and protocol educator - although the bans are lifted he is still concerned about a cyber attack. He is frantically try to restore the ban but it seems like lindhart deleted the code.

Felix: hardware specialists - he was the one who should've been promoted into Dimitri's position and is a bit smug about how everything is falling apart in front of his boss. He bypasses the download blocker and plays minecraft on the company computer. Dimitri is too busy to notice that felix isn't helping.

Sylvain: HR rep. - he knew from the start that working conditions were shit. He was tired of trying to raise moral by doing everything but paying the employees more, giving them time off, and reasonable working hours. He went to the break room where Ferdinand and Lornez were having tea and ate a bunch of the snacks the company was reselling at super high prices then faxed a picture of his ass and balls to rhea herself as a letter of resignation.

Ashe: new hire in IT - was called down to the first floor to replace a keyboard a cat peed on. Found caspar was the reason the cats were let in. Caspar then persuaded him to play with the cats instead of shooing them out. 3 hours later he completely forgot about the strike and clocked out per usual. He completely forgot about the strike

Mercedes: head of HR - she meets with the board and discussed what to do about the strikers. They can't force them to go home since everyone striking lives on site and has every right to be there. No significant damages is being done to property. The only loss is from those not working (and a keyboard covered in cat piss and $35 worth of snacks) Mercedes is forced to find a way to get them to stop but in a way that doesn't really change anything. She leaves the meeting when it is over clocks out and returns to her modest house she calls out sick for the next couple of months.

Annette: HR rep - she tries to stop the chaos on the floor and to convince everyone to return to work. She is ignored. She wanted to ask for a megaphone to help gain attention but edelguard took the one from HR and the person with the key to one in the event closet is striking as well. She runs around in a paint trying to answer emails and settle everyone down.

Ingrid: IT helpline rep - helping Dimitri reset the ban on outside websites is above her pay grade. She at least know some of the terminology and the basics. She manages to set up a very basic blocker but it didn't block whole domains just the homepage of every website she could think of that's wasn't appropriate for work. Logging into the site allowed you to bypass the block. Ingrid feels like she will be fired for not being able to do more

Golden deer:

Claude: event planner - noticing that there was no work happening he finally decided it was time to actually do his job. He dipped into those sweet event funds and ordered as many pizza's as he could from every pizza join that could deliver. He busted out the sport balls and got employees to clear some room for flag football on the 3rd floor. He got Hilda to organize games of hide and go seek in floors 4 and 5. All games and activities were not officially approved but followed all guidelines.

Hilda: claudes assistant - organized games on the 4th and 5th floors. The cubicle although uniform made excellent hiding spaces and the food plaza just got rid of the old tables and chairs awaiting delivery of new ones so there was a ton of space to run around. Hidia had to jump between floors pretty often which was a workout all on its own but it was worth it to see everyone smile at work for once.

Lornez: head of advertising - he was tired of writing jingles and stupid commercials for the company. He wasn't aware of the strike until he got the email from Ferdinand. He offered to treat him to some tea he brought from home. They had a lovely talk and watched Sylvain stress eat. He tried to talk Sylvain out of resigning but failed.

Raphael: pizza delivery guy - he thought it was a joke at first since they never delivered pizza to the Serios Co but was persuaded by Claude. He got stopped at the front by the front desk clerk who was ordered not to allow any deliveries. Soon more pizza guys showed up and some of them where not as nice as Raphael. He eventually got in and successfully delivered his pizza.

Ignatz: accountant - he wanted no part of this and tried to work despite being on the 3rd floor. He doesn't have any PTO and is frantically trying to get his absence approved because he cannot work under these conditions. He got walled in with desks and chairs and hand to crawl his way out to try to find someone in HR to help him but found their office empty. Worst day of work ever.

Lysithia: Intern- hopes to join the advertising department - She needs this job for school credits so finding out that her boss told her to take the day off because of strike she immediately thought of her record. Lorenz assured her that she would get credit as long as he had any say in it. She played a round of hide and go seek before studying in Lornez's office

Marianne: customer service rep.- she heard the rumors and on the day of the strike she freaked out and when to have a panic attack in her car. She was on lunch technically but she took a 3 hour lunch. She came back in clocked out and decided to try that horse therapy.

Leonnie: pizza delivery guy (not nice) - she knows the customer didn't care that the order took so long to complete and was very understanding that the 30mins or less delivery time but seriously! 50 PIZZAS!! She had to stretch and press dough at top speed for like 45 mins then she burnt her hand while boxing some of the pizza's and she had to deliver all of it to this company just outside of town and now the person at the front door is insisting that the pizza was ordered by mistake oh no! Not today! You will take the pizza and you will pay for it and tip 25%.

Church

Rhea: CEO and founder - she honestly believes her practices are helping the community. She doesn't realize that she doesn't give her employees much choice. She thinks her employees are ungrateful.

Seteth: president - also believes the company is doing the best they can. He knows the dorms are small and brand but they house 78.364% of their employees and they all see a doctor at least 3 times a month. He hates that he has difficulty finding a balance between competitive prices, compensating workers, and turning a profit.

Flayn: secretary - she saw the fun going on in the 5th floor while on her lunch and thought it was organized by staff and didn't connect it as part of the strike.

Catherine: front desk - tried to turn away all the delivery drivers but more kept coming. She kept getting calls from upper management about the social media platforms and tried frantically to get in to make a statement but had little luck. She gave up when Leonnie demanded payment and let all the delivery people in.

Shamir: social media manager- she originally attended the meetings as a mole but soon learned that her fellow employees hardships. She drafted huge posts on every platform exposing the truth, changed all the passwords then took a vacation during the strike.

Hanneman: chief operational officer - he is calling and emailing the IT department about the bans every moment he can. He organized the meeting as soon as the strikers got rowdy.

Manuela: chief financial officer - although she is worried about the finances she has also been pressing about where to cut the budget first. Horse therapy is ridiculous! They own the whole ranch and are responsible for the upkeep of every horse. And all the horses are carefully hand selected and trained too. It's too much nobody uses the horse therapy because nobody has the time off to go to horse therapy!

Alois: Chairman - his title is mostly empty. He joined the strikers in a game of flag football scored a touchdown. Then went back to work as usual. Didn't check his emails about the strike since he only checks them in the morning when he first comes into work.

Gilbert: treasurer - he puts business first. Doesn't know his daughter works for the same company. Was friends with Dimitri's father. He is stressing about how the company will recover financially. He is the reason for the pay cuts so they can fund most of the benefits.

Cyrill: gopher - he gets paid minimum wage and lives on site. He considers himself lucky that he can drive the company car to go pick up office supplies from the store. He was homeless before he got a job at Seiros and feels like he is important.

Results

Since several members of the board were caught participating in strike activities the hubert and his firm counted them at strikers and used this in court.

The dorms were not considered responsible accommodations saying that prisoners in jail cells at least have their own toilet.

The news when crazy with the posts on social media. The account never replied to any dms or comments. When called they said a rogue employee posted them falsely because she was being fired.

Rhea was forced to pay a lawsuit that gave all dormitory workers an allowance of $1000 for rent for life. Even if they choose to leave the company.

Dimitri was fired for not actually having any training. Felix was promoted to the head of IT and everyone respects him.

Rhea looses her company. And most of her assets. She kept the therapy horse ranch and manages that for a living.

With the entire company now belonging to her since everyone above her resigned she made a ton of changes making the company more normal. She pays a fair livable wage to every employee. She repurposed the dorms into offices or solitary break rooms.

Huberts firm gets rebranded as a honest firm that wants to help the little guys. He later goes on to help other corporations unionize.