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yothangie · 5 months ago

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ahxuejs this is TOOOOOO GOOOD 😩

Popular, Boy

☆07: The first breakdown

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, smut, angst, drama, dark academic, love triangle

wc: 9,8k

Summary: Humillation and disappointment from others always leave you more isolated than ever. The tension grows and unresolved emotions linger.

But unexpected plans could change everything in your little world.

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, manipulation, just Mike being a bastard.

Note: This chapter has important info that will develop in the next chapter, just want to say that next chapter is more spicy than aespa's song!!!

Series masterlist

☆06 ☆08: The first lie

The grandeur of the Clarke Mansion is still evident in the moments before they leave. The staff bustle around, making sure every detail is in place, as you, your family, and Dann prepare to depart for the lavish event at the Ritz.

The golden light of the chandelier in the hallway spills out into the driveway as the sleek black cars pull up, their engines purring softly in the night air. The elegance of the mansion stands in stark contrast to the wild, pulsing energy of the celebration awaiting them—a night meant to showcase Mike’s latest achievement.

You walk down the grand staircase, a vision in your red dress. As you descend, every step is deliberate, measured, meant to captivate.

Your parents, who were already waiting near the entrance, can’t help but pause in admiration at the sight of their daughter.

But you are too preoccupied with the swirling thoughts in your head to fully bask in their praise. Your brother's harsh words still echo in your ears, but you've done everything you can to mask the weight of them.

Tonight, you need to be untouchable.

Your father approaches you, voice full of pride.

“You look stunning, darling. No one will be able to take their eyes off you tonight.”

“And you better make sure they don’t, sweetie.” Your mother in an elegant black dress says brushing a strand of your hair.

You force a smile, though your gaze flicks to Mike standing near the door. You know he’s already prepared for what he perceives as your inevitable fall tonight.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“Maybe you should focus on not embarrassing yourself, YN. There’s no room for mistakes tonight.” He smirks.

You feel your pulse quicken, the familiar sting of his condescending tone cutting through you like a knife. But you don't respond. Not tonight. you've already made up your mind—you will be perfect, no matter what he says.

Dann, standing quietly in the background, watches everything unfold with a mix of disdain and curiosity. She can feel the heat radiating off you, and for the first time, she’s not sure if she envies you or resents you.

Still, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to get swept up in the endless cycle of praise and punishment that seems to define your world. As the last person to make their way out the door, Dann glances at her mother, who gives her a sweet smile, waving her goodbye.

When the cars finally pull up to the Ritz, the atmosphere shifts entirely. The event is already in full swing, lights glittering, the hum of conversation and laughter spilling out into the cool night air. The building itself looks like a monument to luxury—tall, majestic, with every surface reflecting the opulence that the Clarke family holds dear.

Inside the car, your family sits in quiet anticipation. Your parents speak in hushed tones, planning their approach to tonight’s gathering, while Mike remains distant, his eyes fixed on the glowing windows of the Ritz.

As the car doors open, the flood of sounds from the celebration pours in—cascading music, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of life beyond the door.

You step out first, followed by Mike, parents, and Dann. They make their way up the steps to the grand entrance, where the doormen usher them in with professional smiles. Inside, everything is extravagant—gleaming chandeliers, velvet drapes, and golden accents everywhere.

It feels like a different world entirely.

You adjust your posture, and for a moment, you feel the weight of all eyes on you. This is your world, a place where you can thrive, even with Mike’s shadow looming over you.

As you step into the grand ballroom, the scent of roses and expensive perfume mixes with the faint aroma of hors d'oeuvres being passed around on silver trays.

The room is alive with conversation and laughter, the hum of wealth and power weaving through the air. You’re used to this—this is where you belong, where you’ve always shone. You adjust your dress, a subtle yet powerful statement of the season’s trends, and scan the room.

Your friends spot you almost immediately, their polished appearances as perfect as always. They weave through the crowd with ease, their heels clicking against the marble floor as they make their way toward you.

“Babe!” Mindy exclaims, her eyes sparkling “You look stunning, as always.”

“Of course she does,” Samantha chimes in with a sly grin “What else is new?”

You smile, a perfect blend of warmth and confidence “It’s all about keeping up appearances, isn’t it?”

Mindy’s gaze shifts past you, her brows arching in curiosity “Wait a second… Is that Dann?”

All turn, spotting Dann lingering awkwardly near one of the side tables. She’s holding a glass of sparkling water like it’s a lifeline, her lavender gown catching the light in a way that draws just enough attention.

“Oh my God, it is her. What’s she doing here?”

You shrug with a practiced air of indifference “Mother invited her. You know how she gets—always so kind and generous. She thought it would be nice to show some appreciation for Dann helping around the house.”

Mindy’s lips press into a thin line, and the others barely hide a snicker “Kind of her,” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm “But seriously, babygirl, what were you thinking, letting her wear a dress from a collection from years ago? She looks ridiculous.”

You feign innocence, a soft laugh escaping your lips “Who am I to deny her a chance to feel special?”

Sam smirks “You’re a saint, baby. Truly. She really sticks out, doesn’t she? Like she doesn’t belong here.”

“That’s not my problem,” You reply smoothly, brushing off the comment with a flick of your hair “Mother wanted her here, and I’m doing my part. Whether or not she fits in is up to her.”

You glance across the room, your eyes narrowing as they settle on Seonghwa. He’s standing with his family, dressed impeccably as always, his confident smile lighting up the space around him.

For a brief moment, your polished demeanor falters. There’s a lot unsaid between the two of you—more than anyone in this room could ever guess.

After Wooyoung’s last party you haven't talked.

“Shall we mingle?” Someone asks, breaking your train of thought.

“Of course,” You reply, slipping your arm through Mindy’s “Let’s remind everyone who really runs this town.”

As you move through the crowd, your presence commanding attention as always, you can feel the weight of the evening settling in.

Tonight isn’t just about appearances—it’s about control, power, and making sure everyone, including Mike and Dann, knows exactly where they stand.

✮ ⋆

As the evening progresses, the hum of conversation and laughter fills the air, but Dann lingers near the edges of the room, keeping to herself. Her glass of sparkling water trembles slightly in her hand as she tries to blend into the background.

The soft lavender gown you gave her feels alien on her body, and she’s keenly aware of every glance sent her way.

What she doesn’t realize is that many of those glances are judgmental, the dress silently announcing her as out of place.

It doesn’t take long for Mindy and the other girls to leave you with your parents and notice Dann standing awkwardly by the refreshments table. They exchange a quick look, their eyes gleaming with amusement, and saunter over, their movements purposeful and predatory.

“Dann? Oh my god, hi.” Mindy says, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

Dann startles slightly but nods, trying to smile “Um, hi.”

Samantha tilts her head, feigning curiosity “That’s such a… unique dress you’re wearing. Where did you find it? A vintage shop?”

Dann’s cheeks burn, but she forces herself to meet their gaze.

“Actually, YN gave it to me. She thought it would be appropriate for tonight.”

Their smiles widen, eyes sparkling with malicious delight.

“Oh, our babygirl always so generous. Did YN let you borrow it from her last season’s wardrobe? Or was she just trying to make you look like a charity case?"

"I mean, you must feel so lucky to be here with all these important people in such a... dated dress."

“Very retro, not something anyone else here could pull off, but good for you for trying.”

Dann’s grip tightens around her glass, her stomach twisting. She knows they’re mocking her, but she refuses to let them see her falter.

“Thank you,” She says evenly “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Mindy arches an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the response, but Sam isn’t done yet.

“It’s just so sweet of YN to give you something she wouldn’t wear anymore. Such a generous friend, don’t you think?”

Before Dann can respond, Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the conversation like a blade.

“Ladies, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

He appears at Dann’s side, his presence commanding, and tone light but with an edge that makes your friends instantly fall silent.

“Hwa,” Mindy says with a wide smile “We were just admiring YN’s generosity in lending Dann one of her dresses. So thoughtful of her.”

Seonghwa’s lips curve into a polite but icy smile “Of course,” He turns to Dann, his expression unreadable “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Dann hesitates, but nods “Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” His eyes flick to your friends, his smile never wavering “If you’ll excuse us, I promised to introduce Dann to some of my friends.”

All the girls exchange glances but step aside.

“Sure, have fun.”

Seonghwa grabs Dann’s arm and leads her away, his steps measured and graceful. Once they’re out of earshot, he leans in slightly, his voice low enough that only Dann can hear.

“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just bored.”

Dann glances at him, unsure whether to trust the sudden kindness.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Once they’re seated with a drink in hand, Hwa turns to Dann, his expression serious.

"So, how’s everything going with Mike? What’s the plan for tonight?"

Dann glances around nervously, making sure no one is listening.

"Mike told me to tell Hongjoong a fake address so that he wouldn’t come tonight... he wanted YN to be left alone, humiliated. He said he was going to make sure she felt small in front of everyone during his speech."

Seonghwa nods, pleased with the progress of the plan, but there’s a certain coldness in his smile.

"And you’re sure he’ll follow through? Mike doesn’t usually miss a chance to put YN in her place."

Dann sighs, her hands trembling slightly as she grips her glass.

"I don’t know if I can keep doing this... but he’s promised that tonight, it’ll all come together. YN will feel what it’s like to be cast aside."

Seonghwa watches her for a moment, assessing, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own drink.

"Good. Just remember, if you want to be part of this, you have to follow through. All of us are in this together now."

Dann nods, but the weight of her actions starts to sink in. She knows she’s in too deep to back out now, and yet the guilt gnaws at her.

As Seonghwa continues to chat with her about their plans, she can’t shake the uneasy feeling that the lines between revenge and her own humanity are beginning to blur.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong adjusted his cufflinks in the mirror, his expression thoughtful as he glanced at his reflection. The evening was meant to be a special one—an elegant celebration at the Ritz, an event where he would finally step into the world you navigate so effortlessly.

But something didn’t feel right. Why did your family decide to change the venue so suddenly?

Confused but trusting, Hongjoong went along with the information, believing it was just a miscommunication. He got ready, dressed in the suit you bought him, ready to experience a world beyond his usual scope.

But as he drove, the city fell behind him, the roads winding into quiet, unfamiliar countryside. There was no Ritz, just a few ordinary homes and farmland stretching into the distance.

Panic started to settle in his chest as his phone buzzed, showing no signal. He tried calling you, Dann, and even Wooyoung, but no calls went through.

The further he drove, the more he realized Dann had played a cruel trick—luring him away, leaving him isolated and alone.

Anger surged through him as he realized the intent. Dann had deliberately ensured he wouldn’t make it to the party, making you feel abandoned, unsure, and hurt.

His fists clenched around the steering wheel, frustration boiling to the surface. He needed to get to you, to make sure you knew it wasn’t his choice to stay away.

Desperate, he took a U-turn, his tires screeching slightly on the gravel as he headed back toward the city.

The night was dark, and the streets were eerily quiet as he raced toward the first address you had given him.

✮ ⋆

The party was in full swing, and you had slipped into your role effortlessly. Your laughter echoed through the room as you sipped champagne, your friends and guests hanging on your every word.

Mindy, Sam, Wooyoung, and a few others surrounded you, chatting about the latest gossip in the city, and the music played softly in the background, setting a festive mood.

You looked around the grand ballroom, admiring the luxurious décor, the chandeliers that sparkled overhead, and the gentle hum of conversation filling the air.

It was everything you had grown accustomed to—the perfect night of glamour, elegance, and being the center of attention.

But as the evening wore on, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. It was as though something was missing, and that something was Hongjoong.

You glance at your phone again, noting that the time is slipping away, and Hongjoong still hasn't arrived. The champagne, which had initially made you feel warm and confident, now seemed to weigh on you, making you restless.

“Where is little Hongjoong, babydoll?” Wooyoung asks you.

“Don't know, he should be here by now.”

“Maybe he doesn't know how to get here.”

“Maybe, let me call him.” You excused yourself from the group and wandered toward a quieter corner.

Your heels click softly on the marble floor. You unlock your phone and send a quick text to Joong.

YN♡: Joong, are you coming? It’s getting late.

You bite your lip, anxiously staring at the screen, waiting for a reply. But the familiar bubble showing that he is typing never appeared.

Frowning, you call him next, holding the phone to your ear as the ringing tone echoed in your eardrum. But when the call goes straight to voicemail, your anxiety deepens.

Where is he?

You make sure to include him in this world you live in, and now, you are starting to doubt if he’d actually show up.

There had been no signs of trouble earlier, but now the silence from Hongjoong’s end is unsettling.

You pace slowly, trying to calm your racing thoughts, but it's hard to ignore the tightness in your chest. You know you shouldn’t be worried—he might be caught up in traffic, or maybe something had come up—but deep down, a quiet voice is telling you it isn't that simple.

You text him again, hoping for any kind of response.

YN♡: Kim Hongjoong. Where are you?

Nothing.

The seconds stretch into what feels like minutes, and your stomach twists. You don’t like this feeling.

You don’t like being uncertain.

You don’t like being let down.

You return to the party but find yourself unable to focus on the conversations around you. Your gaze flickers back to your phone as the minutes tick by. Your thoughts keep drifting back to Hongjoong.

What is keeping him? Is he really on his way? Or has something happened?

You take a long sip of your champagne, trying to shake the unease, but it lingers.

You just wanted him here, wanted to be with him.

You force yourself to rejoin the party, plastering on a faint smile as you move through the crowd. Mindy and Wooyoung are still chatting nearby, but their laughter feels muffled, distant.

The sparkle of the chandeliers seems dimmer now, the glamour of the evening dulled by the absence of the one person you were hoping to share it with.

“Sweetie, there you are,” Your mother’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. “Mike’s about to give his speech. Come, stand near the front.”

You nod, following her to the center of the ballroom, where Mike is standing on a small stage. The guests quiet down as he takes the microphone, his charismatic smile commanding attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” He begins, his voice smooth and confident “First, thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to me to celebrate this milestone with my family and our closest friends. As most of you know, I’ve recently been entrusted with a significant position in our family business, and I am honored to take on this responsibility.”

The crowd applauds, a few cheers breaking out. Mike raises a hand, his grin widening.

“I want to take a moment to express my gratitude for the opportunity to step into this role and carry the legacy of the Clarke family forward. My parents have worked tirelessly to get me here, and I will do everything in my power to uphold the values of this company. It’s an honor to follow in the footsteps of my father and grandfather.”

A round of applause erupted, and you force a smile, applauding with the crowd, even though a sense of dread fills your chest.

You can already feel where this is going.

“But before I move forward,” He continues, his voice gaining an edge of sarcasm “I have to acknowledge someone who’s always been there for me, even if she doesn’t always realize how much of a burden she’s been.”

His eyes flick to you, and for a moment, the entire room seems to pause.

Your heart skips a beat. You try to keep your composure, but there is an unsettling feeling settling deep in your stomach.

You force yourself to stand tall, but the quiet murmur of the crowd around you makes you feel exposed, like a target under a spotlight.

“As my sister, YN has been… well, how should I say this… a distraction,” Mike says, his voice dripping with mock affection “She’s been more focused on parties and… friendships than actual responsibility. And I think it’s time she learns that life isn’t all about being the center of attention.”

You feel your cheeks burn, the words piercing through you like ice. You can feel the eyes of the guests on you, the weight of their silent judgment. You try to maintain your composure, but the sting of Mike’s words make you feel small.

Like you don’t belong here.

Like you are nothing more than a plaything in the shadow of your perfect, golden brother.

Mike’s gaze never wavers from yours as he delivers the final blow.

“Maybe one day, she’ll realize that success isn’t about what you can get from people, but about what you can give back. I can only hope that she grows up soon enough.”

A few uncomfortable chuckles rip through the crowd, and your chest tightens. The blood rushes to your ears, and for a brief moment, you feel like you can’t breathe.

You look around, trying to find someone’s gaze—anyone who might offer you some comfort—but they all seem to look away, as if they have already accepted Mike’s harsh truth.

Your father is smiling, nodding as if it’s all just a joke. Your mother is watching you with a mixture of concern and hurt.

But you feel entirely alone.

The crowd clap hesitantly, you manage to give a tight smile, though it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

You stand still, trying not to let the tears welling in your eyes break free.

You have no idea where Hongjoong is—if he is even coming—but right now, you need him more than ever.

You need someone who sees you for who you truly are, not the image that Mike and everyone else had constructed for you.

“Excuse me,” You murmur to no one in particular, slipping away from the crowd.

✮ ⋆

The party had begun to mellow out after Mike’s speech, the guests turning their attention to the endless flow of wine and hors d’oeuvres. In one of the quieter corners of the room, Dann sat alone, her champagne glass untouched on the small table before her.

She fiddled with the hem of her dress, her eyes flickering toward the laughter and conversation swirling around her.

Mike, ever the picture of confidence, approached her with a sly grin, his glass of scotch in hand.

“Well, Dann,” He says smoothly, sliding into the chair beside her. “How much did you enjoy YN’s little… public humbling?”

Dann hesitates, caught off guard by the directness of the question. But then, her lips curl into a faint smirk.

��I can’t say it wasn’t satisfying,” She replies, her tone measured but laced with an undercurrent of bitterness.

He chuckles darkly “I thought you’d appreciate it. After all, you’ve had a front-row seat to her antics, haven’t you?”

She shrugs, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass “I’m around her every day, every hour. I see more than anyone else does.”

Mike’s brows lift, his curiosity piqued “Really? And where is our dear YN now? Have you seen her?”

Dann’s eyes darted toward the balcony doors “Probably outside, drinking, smoking, who knows.”

Mike leans forward, his voice dropping slightly “Smoking?”

“Yeah,” Dann replies casually “She does it often. You wouldn’t notice, but I do. She hides it well.”

He studies her for a moment, as if trying to gauge the truth in her words. Then, with a smirk, he straightens up.

“Interesting. Well, I suppose I should go check on her, make sure she hasn’t set anything on fire in her dramatics.”

Dann let out a small laugh, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She watches as Mike rose and headed toward the garden doors, his steps purposeful and unhurried.

✮ ⋆

The garden is quiet, the cool night air wrapping around you as you step outside. The soft glow of the party lights spills onto the garden, but you move further into the shadows, needing to be alone.

You clutch your champagne flute tightly, the glass cold against your palm. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of Mike’s words pressing down on you.

Why does he always do this? Why can’t he just let you be?

You take a deep breath, the crisp air biting at your lungs, and tilt your head back to look at the stars. They’re beautiful, distant, and unattainable—just like the life you’ve always wanted.

Your hands shake slightly as you sip champagne, the liquid sloshing around in the crystal flute as you bring it to your lips. You don’t care if that is already your fifth glass.

You need something to numb the ache in your chest, something to drown out the sting of Mike’s words.

You fumble for a cigarette, pulling one from the pack with a trembling hand. The sweet strawberry scent fills the air as you lit it, inhaling deeply as the smoke curls around you like a shield. It doesn’t help.

The words he’d said—how you aren’t good enough, how you would never live up to his expectations—replays in your mind over and over.

You try to focus on the cool air, the quiet of the garden, but the ache in your heart doesn't go away. You felt completely exposed out here, the vulnerability that had crept in from Mike’s public humiliation gnawing at your insides.

You didn’t care that you were smoking in a garden meant for guests, you didn’t care about anything at all right now.

How long have you been out here? An hour? Two? You don’t even know anymore. Your head is fuzzy from the alcohol and the smoke, and all you want is for someone to make it stop.

But no one is coming.

Your phone buzzes in your purse, but you don’t bother looking at it. It can be anyone—your parents, Mindy, maybe even Seonghwa.

But the person you truly want to hear from is nowhere to be found.

The door to the garden creaks open behind you, the sound sharp and jarring. You flinch, not needing to turn around to know who it is.

The anger in the footsteps, the unmistakable tension in the air—it could only be Mike.

“YN.” His voice cuts through the night like a blade.

You take another drag from the cigarette, your back stiffening.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to stop acting like an embarrassment!” His words are sharp, accusing “What the fuck are you doing out here, smoking and drinking like some common—”

You whip around to face him, your own anger rising like a tide.

“I don’t need you to lecture me, Mike.”

“Clearly, you need someone to remind you of your place,” He shoots back, his tone venomous “You’re out here, embarrassing the family, and you don’t even care.”

Your lips curl into a bitter smile, your fingers still wrapped tightly around the cigarette.

“You’ve made it clear enough how you feel about me. Why don’t you just get lost and leave me the fuck alone?”

Your voice is raw, but your words are sharp and final.

Mike’s jaw clenches, his anger bubbling over. Before you can react, he steps forward, his hand lashing out and landing across your cheek with a sickening crack.

You gasp, your head snapping to the side from the force of the slap.

For a moment, everything goes still. The sting spreads across your face, your vision blurring, but it isn’t just the slap—it’s the realization that he didn't change during these years and his knack of hitting you when he's upset is still there.

That he can hurt you again, in front of everyone, and no one would stop him.

Your lip splits, the taste of blood mixing with the bitterness in your mouth. Your eyes fill with tears, but you blink them back, refusing to show weakness.

“You'll always be the same, right?” Your voice trembles with the weight of the words.

Mike’s chest heaves with anger, but you don't care. You aren't afraid of him anymore. His cruelty has pushed you to the edge for too long, and now, something inside you snaps.

But as much as you want to say more, to lash out at him for everything he has ever done, your throat tightens. You swallow the lump in your throat, clenching your fists at your sides.

“Get back inside, YN,” He sneers, turning on his heel “You’re making this family look pathetic.”

You stay silent, watching him walk away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty garden. You sink back onto the bench, hands trembling.

You hadn’t expected him to hit you again—but it doesn’t matter. Nothing about this night matters anymore.

What is left for you? Where is Hongjoong?

As you sit there, all you can feel is the weight of his slap and the suffocating silence of the garden.

✮ ⋆

The mansion looms in the distance as you step out of the car, the cold air biting at your skin through your thin dress. The chauffeur doesn’t say a word, and you don’t acknowledge him.

You didn’t say goodbye to anyone at the party—didn’t even care if anyone noticed you slipping out.

You push open the front door, the familiar creak echoing in the grand, empty hall. The house is silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and some maids doing errands.

It’s late, but a light glows faintly from the far side of the room. Dann’s mother is there, cleaning up, as she often does late into the night.

She looks up as you enter, her expression softening into concern the moment she sees you.

“Miss YN?” She says, her voice cautious yet kind “What happened to your lip?”

You touch your fingers to your mouth, wincing slightly at the sting of the torn skin. The dried blood cracks under your touch, but you force a small, dismissive smile.

“It’s nothing,” You say, your voice hoarse and detached.

She frowns, setting the dish towel down “It doesn’t look like nothing. Are you sure you’re alright?”

You nod, unwilling to engage any further “I’m fine. Goodnight.”

Without waiting for a reply, you make your way upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time you reach your room, the weight of the night is unbearable.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment before letting out a shaky breath.

The room is exactly as you left it—immaculate, pristine, and entirely too cold. You slip out of your dress, trading the suffocating fabric for a pair of loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

Crawling into bed, you stare at the ceiling, the events of the night playing over and over in your mind.

Mike’s humiliating speech, the slap that still burns on your cheek, and the conspicuous absence of Hongjoong.

Hongjoong.

You held onto the hope that he would show up, that he’d swoop in and make everything feel bearable, but he didn’t. Not a call, not a message. Just silence.

Your chest tightens, and your throat feels raw as the urge to cry threatens to consume you.

But you don’t. You won’t.

You clench your jaw, swallowing hard against the lump that’s risen in your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away furiously, refusing to let them fall.

Crying feels like defeat, like letting Mike, Hongjoong, and everyone else see how much they’ve gotten to you.

You curl up on your side, staring blankly at the wall. The ache in your chest is suffocating, but you press your lips together, forcing yourself to stay composed.

Mike’s words echo in your ears—his sneer, his disdain. And the silence from Hongjoong—the boy who is supposed to be on your side, who is supposed to see you, really see you—is deafening.

But you won’t cry. You won’t give them that power.

You take a shaky breath and close your eyes, trying to block it all out. The humiliation, the loneliness, the betrayal—they’re all too much, but you won’t let them break you.

You are a Clarke. And YN Clarke doesn’t cry.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong bursts into the venue, his heart pounding from the frantic drive. The event is still lively, guests milling about in elegant attire, but his eyes scan the room for one person only—you.

He pulls out his phone, scrolling to your name, his thumb hovering over the call button. With a shaky breath, he presses it, raising the phone to his ear as he moves through the crowd.

“Come on, pretty. Pick up.” He mutters under his breath.

The line doesn’t even ring—it goes straight to voicemail. His stomach sinks, and a fresh wave of panic washes over him. He tries texting instead:

Joongie♡: YN, I’m so sorry. I’m here now. Where are you? Please let me explain.

He hits send and watches the message sit undelivered, the grey checkmark mocking him.

“Damn it,” He hisses, running a hand through his hair.

“Hongjoong?”

A familiar voice cuts through the din. He turns to see your mother standing a few feet away, her brows knitted together in mild surprise.

“Mrs. Clarke,” He says, relief flooding his tone as he quickly approaches her “Have you seen YN? I’ve been trying to find her.”

Her expression softens, though there’s a trace of sadness in her eyes. She sighs, folding her arms across her chest.

“I haven’t seen her in a while. She might’ve left already.”

Hongjoong’s face falls “Left? Why would she leave?”

Mrs. Clarke hesitates, clearly choosing her words carefully.

“You know how these events can be… overwhelming. Sometimes, she just needs space.”

His heart twists. He can sense there’s more she isn’t saying, but he doesn’t press her. Instead, he nods, his mind racing with worry.

“Did she… say anything before she left? Did she seem okay?”

Her lips press into a thin line, and she glances away briefly “She didn’t say much. But…” She pauses, then shakes her head “I think it’s best if you talk to her yourself. Maybe she is at home.”

Hongjoong nods again, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Thank you. I’ll find her.”

The elegant woman gives him a small, almost apologetic smile before stepping away, leaving Hongjoong standing amidst the glitz and glamour of the party.

The lights feel too bright, the laughter too sharp. He dials your number again, and when it goes straight to voicemail, his frustration bubbles over.

“Pretty, please, call me back,” He says into the phone, his voice strained “I need to talk to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. Please, just… let me know you’re okay.”

He hangs up, his chest heaving. Every second that passes feels like an eternity. He starts pacing, determined, Hongjoong sets off toward the exit, hoping against hope that he’s not too late to make things right.

After a twenty minute drive, Hongjoong pulls up to your house, his heart pounding as he steps out of the car. The sprawling mansion looms in the moonlight, its grandeur only amplifying his anxiety.

He jogs up the stone steps and rings the doorbell, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and a maid greets him. Her expression brightens slightly when she recognizes him.

“Oh, Mr. Hongjoong, you’re a friend of Miss YN, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” He says, his voice laced with urgency “Is she home?”

The maid hesitates, then nods “I think she is in her room now, come in.”

Hongjoong exhales, his chest tightening “Thank you.”

He makes his way through the elegant hallways, his footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floors.

When he reaches your door, he finds it closed. He pauses, then knocks softly.

“YN? It’s me, Hongjoong,” He says, his voice trembling slightly “I… I need to talk to you. Please.”

There’s no response.

He knocks again, this time with more urgency “YN, I’m so sorry. I need you to know what happened. Please, just give me a chance to explain.”

Inside, you sit on the edge of your bed, your knees pulled up to your chest. You can hear every word he’s saying, the emotion in his voice tugging at your heart.

But you don’t move, your resolve firm. You can’t face him right now—not like this.

Hongjoong presses his forehead against the door, his fists clenching at his sides.

“I was tricked,” He says, his voice breaking “Dann… she gave me the wrong address. I thought I was going to the party, but it was all a lie. By the time I realized it was too late. I’m so sorry, YN. I didn’t mean to let you down.”

Still, you remain silent, staring at the door with a mix of anger, sadness, and exhaustion.

You want to believe him—you really do—but the weight of the evening keeps you rooted in place.

Hongjoong leans back, running a hand through his hair “I hate that I wasn’t there for you,” He continues “I know tonight was important to you, and I messed it up. But please, pretty… I care about you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Your heart aches at his words, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Maybe it’s the humiliation still fresh in your mind or the sting of feeling abandoned when you needed him most.

Either way, you decide to stay quiet.

After a long silence, he sighs heavily “I get it, you don’t want to talk to me right now. That’s okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

He lingers by the door for a moment longer, as if hoping for a miracle. When none comes, he finally steps away, his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Inside, you exhale shakily, your hands gripping the edge of the bed. You feel torn, caught between your desire to open the door and the overwhelming need to protect yourself.

Maybe when you feel better—when the pain isn’t so raw—you can talk to him.

But for now, you stay where you are, letting the quiet of the room envelop you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next few days pass in a haze. You keep to your room, the curtains drawn and the world shut out. You don’t want to face anyone—Mike, your parents, your friends, and especially Hongjoong.

The humiliation from the party still lingers like a wound that refuses to heal, and you can’t bear the thought of their pity or judgment.

Your mother knocks on the door each morning, her voice soft and tentative, but you always feign a cough or complain of feeling unwell. It works, for now.

They let you stay hidden away, though you know it’s only a matter of time before they stop accepting your excuses.

By Wednesday, the isolation is starting to feel suffocating, but you still can’t bring yourself to leave.

The knock on your door comes earlier than usual, followed by your mother’s voice.

“Sweetie, it’s me. Can I come in?”

You hesitate, considering pretending to be asleep, but before you can answer, the door creaks open. She steps in, her expression a mixture of worry and sadness as she closes the door behind her.

She sits on the edge of your bed, smoothing the blanket with her manicured hands.

“You’ve been in here for days,” She says gently “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine,” You murmur, your voice hoarse “I just need some rest.”

She reaches out, brushing your hair “You don’t have to pretend with me, YN. I know how hard that night must have been for you.”

Her words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you feel your resolve waver.

But instead of breaking down, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She nods, her gaze softening “That’s okay. But I need you to know that… I’m here for you. No matter what.” You don’t respond, your eyes fixed on the wall. After a moment, she sighs and leans forward, kissing your forehead “I’ll let you rest. Just… don’t shut yourself off completely, okay?”

Later that evening, another knock sounds at your door. This time, it’s your father.

He doesn’t wait for permission before entering, holding a small black box in his hand.

“Darling,” He says, his tone unusually bright “I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

You glance at him warily as he places the box on the bed beside you.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see,” He says, his smile strained.

You sit up slowly, pulling the box closer. Inside, nestled on a velvet cushion, is a sleek key fob. Your breath catches as you recognize the emblem—your father’s favorite luxury brand.

“A car?” You ask, looking up at him.

He nods, his smile faltering slightly “It’s parked in the driveway. I thought… after everything, you deserve something special.”

You stare at the key, a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this—tried to smooth over their failures with expensive gifts. When you were a child, it was toys, then clothes, then trips abroad.

Now, it’s cars.

“Thanks,” You say quietly, your fingers curling around the key.

Your father seems to relax at your response, as if the gesture has absolved him of guilt.

“Take your time, darling. Whenever you’re ready, we can go for a drive.”

You nod, watching as he leaves the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re alone again.

You stare at the key in your hand, the weight of it heavier than it should be. It’s a beautiful gift, but it doesn’t fill the emptiness inside you.

It doesn’t erase the memory of Mike’s words or the ache of feeling like you’re always second best.

You set the key down on your nightstand and lie back against the pillows, closing your eyes. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll feel strong enough to face the world.

But for now, you stay cocooned in your room, the only place where you feel safe.

✮ ⋆

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm, determination burning in your chest. You’ve spent days locked away, hidden from the world, but that ends today.

No one at school knows what really happened that night, and you intend to keep it that way. As far as they’re concerned, you were just under the weather.

Also, after four days, you decide to turn on your phone, which immediately fills up with notifications of missed messages and calls. You decide to take a moment to review it.

10 missed calls from Mindy.

7 missed calls from Brat Woo.

2 missed calls from Hwa.

1 missed call from Mingi.

28 missed calls from Joongie.

486 unread messages.

You don't want to read so many messages, so you prefer to shut it down and start to get ready for the day.

You pull open your closet door and scan through the racks of designer clothes.

After a few moments, you settle on a pearl-white blouse that hugs your frame perfectly, paired with a plaid mini-skirt that shows off your legs, and your favorite jimmy choo’s high heels complete the look, adding the perfect touch of glamour.

Your makeup is flawless, of course. You conceal every imperfection, erasing any hint of the chaos you’ve endured.

The faint scab on your lip vanishes beneath a carefully chosen red lipstick, and the flush of blush gives your cheeks a healthy, radiant glow.

The girl staring back at you in the mirror looks exactly as she should: untouchable, effortless, and every bit the queen bee.

Outside, your new car gleams under the morning sun, a symbol of your parent’s guilt and their way of fixing everything with a price tag.

You don’t care. Today, it’s a weapon, and you know exactly how to use it.

The engine purrs as you pull into the school parking lot, catching everyone’s attention. Heads turn, conversations falter, and by the time you step out, all eyes are on you.

You move with purpose, your heels clicking against the pavement as you stride toward the entrance.

You can feel the weight of their stares, hear the murmurs of curiosity.

“Is that YN’s new car?”

“Didn’t she call in sick for the past few days?”

“She looks gorgeous!”

You smirk inwardly, keeping your expression neutral. Let them wonder. Let them speculate.

None of it matters.

Inside, your friends are waiting near your locker, their faces lighting up as they spot you.

“Babe! You’re back!” Mindy exclaims, her voice tinged with relief “We were so worried about you!”

“What happened? Are you feeling better?” Another friend chimes in.

You shrug casually, opening your locker as if this is just another normal day.

“I’m fine. Just needed a few days to recover from the flu. Nothing serious.”

Mindy’s eyes flicker to your car keys, which you’re holding deliberately in your hand.

“And the car? Is that new?”

You flash her a small smile, dangling the keys for emphasis “A little gift from my parents. They thought I deserved a pick-me-up.”

The group erupts into compliments, fawning over your car and your outfit. It’s almost too easy to redirect their attention.

But as you glance around, your gaze lands on Hongjoong in the distance entering the library.

Maybe it’s time to talk with him about that night, he owes you an apology.

“I see you in class, girls.”

Without waiting for a response, you make your way to the library.

The library is quiet, the faint rustle of pages and soft whispers creating a cocoon of calm. You scan the room until your eyes land on Hongjoong, sitting at a table with a few of his friends.

He looks up just as you approach, his face shifting between surprise and relief.

“YN,” He starts, rising from his seat, “I—”

“Save it for later, Hongjoong,” You cut him off sharply, your tone leaving no room for argument “We need to talk about what you said that night.”

He hesitates, glancing awkwardly at his friends, but your unwavering stare makes him nod and follow you to a secluded corner of the library.

Once you’re alone, you cross your arms, your eyes narrowing.

“Why didn’t you show up at the party? I waited for you for almost three hours, Joong.”

“I know, I know, pretty,” He says immediately, reaching out to steady your waist, his tone pleading “But like I told you that night, Dann tricked me—”

You cut him off again with a scoff, pulling back “Dann? You promised me you wouldn’t talk to her again.”

“And I didn’t start the conversation!” He protests, frustration creeping into his voice “She approached me that day at the mall.”

“What?” You blink, momentarily thrown off. The situation sounds ridiculous, almost laughable.

“That day, I was shopping, and out of nowhere, Dann appeared, asking what I was doing there. When I mentioned the party—” He pauses, sighing heavily as his hand rakes through his hair, “She told me the venue had changed and said she’d send me the new address. I thought it was odd, but when she mentioned your mom inviting her, I believed it.”

Your jaw tightens “And then?”

“I drove to the address she gave me,” He continues, his voice dropping with guilt “It was in the middle of nowhere. No signal, no way to contact you or anyone else. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. I rushed back to the Ritz and then to your house as soon as I could, but…”

You’re silent for a moment, processing his words. None of it makes sense.

Dann, sweet, shy, unassuming Dann, pulling off a plan like this? The thought feels absurd.

Then again, you remind yourself, people aren’t always what they seem.

“And why did you trust her? Why didn’t you call me after she told you that?” You press, your tone sharper now.

Hongjoong’s hands tighten briefly around your waist before he mutters.

“She said maybe you were busy and forgot to tell me. I... I trusted her because she was my friend.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the admission dripping with shame.

“Oh my god, Joongie.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head “I thought you were smart. But I understand. She was your friend, and you didn’t think she’d trick you like that.”

He bites his lip, clearly embarrassed, but when you reach out to cup his cheeks, lifting his gaze to yours, he softens.

“Now you owe me an apology,” You murmur, your lips brushing his lightly “You left me all alone.”

He smiles at your pout, a playful glint in his eyes “I know. What about dinner after school?”

You shake your head, frowning “I want another kind of apology. You know what I mean, Kim Hongjoong.”

And of course, he knows. But he can’t resist teasing you, just a little.

“We can’t do anything indecent here, pretty,” He murmurs, his hands slipping lower to rest on your hips as he pulls you closer “I don’t want to get us in trouble.”

You roll your eyes but let the moment linger for a breath longer before stepping back, a plan already forming in your mind.

“Fine,” You say, straightening your posture and fixing him with a determined look “But this isn’t over. And speaking of people owing me, I’m going to have a little chat with Dann. She has some explaining to do.”

Hongjoong stiffens, his playful demeanor vanishing “YN—maybe you should let it go. You know how Dann is. She’ll twist things, make it worse.”

“Not this time.” Your voice is steady, cold “She went too far, and I’m not letting her get away with it. If she wants to play games, I’ll show her how it’s done.”

He watches as you stride out of the library, determination radiating from every step.

He knows better than to argue when you’re like this, but even he can’t help the twinge of unease at the thought of what’s coming next.

✮ ⋆

The final bell rings, and students rush to leave the school. The hallways are alive with chatter, but you remain by your locker, surrounded by her entourage—Mindy, Wooyoung, Samantha, and a few others. Hongjoong lingers close by, his face a mixture of anticipation and tension.

As the crowd thins, you spot Dann walking down the hall, clutching her books, her head low as if trying to make herself invisible.

Your lips curl into a sharp smile, eyes glinting with cold determination.

“Dann!” You call out, voice slicing through the noise like a whip.

Dann freezes, her face draining of color. Slowly, she turns, her eyes wide as they meet yours.

It's been days since that day at the party and she’s been so nervous about you finding out what she did.

You saunter toward her, your friends following closely, their presence an unspoken threat.

“YN, I have to—” Dann begins, but you cut her off.

“Don’t even try, Dann. I’m not in the mood for your pathetic excuses.” You step closer, your gaze narrowing “I just have one question for you: What made you think you could lie to Hongjoong and me and get away with it?”

Dann swallows hard, glancing at the others, who are watching her like predators sizing up their prey.

“What—”

“Oh, don’t give me that!” You snap, throwing her hands up dramatically “You know what you did that day.” Dann’s panic builds, and her breath catches in her lungs for a moment “You didn’t mean to send Joongie to some random, deserted place? You didn’t mean to ruin my night?”

Dann’s grip tightens on her books “I wasn’t trying to—”

“You weren’t trying to what?” You interrupt, voice dripping with mockery “You weren’t trying to sabotage me? You’re such a bad liar, Dann.”

Mindy smirks, chiming in “I mean, seriously, Dann. Did you really think you could pull this off? You’re so… gullible.”

“And desperate,” Wooyoung adds with a chuckle, earning a snicker from the others.

You cross your arms, your expression one of feigned hurt.

“You know, I even gave you that dress for the party. That expensive designer dress. Because I thought, ‘Hey, maybe Dann deserves a chance to feel special for once.’” You pause “Guess I was wrong.”

Dann’s eyes well up with tears, but she shakes her head, trying to muster a defense.

“YN, I didn’t mean to ruin anything. I just—”

“Just what?” Your voice rises, drawing the attention of a small crowd of lingering students. “Just decided to be so dumb and submissive that you’d believe anything someone told you? Or are you working with someone?”

The accusation hangs in the air, and Dann’s lips part as if to respond, but she quickly closes them, her silence speaking volumes.

To everyone's surprise; Hongjoong steps forward, his jaw tight.

“You know what, Dann? I can’t believe I trusted you. You used to be my friend. I thought you were better than this.”

Dann flinches at his words, her composure slipping further.

“Joong, I…” Dann looks down, her tears threatening to spill over.

You smirk, stepping closer until you’re towering over Dann.

“Did you want me to be mad at him?”

Dann’s face flushes with humiliation, and she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! That’s not what I—”

“Save it, you’re pathetic, Dann. And you’re not just a liar—you’re a bad one. Honestly, I doubt you came up with this plan on your own. Someone must’ve put you up to it. Who was it?”

“Maybe it was Seonghwa, I saw them talking at the party.” Mindy snaps with a grin “Right, Dann?”

Dann remains silent, her lips trembling as she clutches her books tighter. She won't say a word about it, and you frown at the mention of Seonghwa’s name.

Seonghwa talking with her, What the fuck?

“No answer?” You laugh bitterly “I see, you’re too scared to even admit it. Well, let me give you some advice: Stay out of my way. You’re not in my league, Dann. You never were, and never will.”

Wooyoung steps forward again with a grin “You owe YN and Hongjoong an apology.”

“A real one. Not that half-hearted excuse you tried earlier.” Sam adds.

Dann’s tears finally spill over, and she whispers “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

You roll her eyes, turning to your friends.

“Let’s go. I’m done wasting my time on her.”

As they walk away, you glance over your shoulder one last time, lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, and Dann? Don’t ever think about messing with me again. Next time, you won’t get off so easily.”

The crowd disperses, leaving Dann standing alone, her face streaked with tears. Behind her trembling exterior, a flicker of something else—anger or determination—takes root.

✮ ⋆

Dann steps are heavy, her hands trembling slightly as she clutches her bag. Tears still cling to her lashes, but her face is set in a grim determination.

The humiliation at school burns fresh in her mind, your cutting words replaying over and over like a cruel mantra.

By the time she reaches the front door of Clrarke’s mansion, her shame has transformed into anger—a searing, all-consuming fury.

She pushes open the heavy doors without hesitation, her steps echoing through the grand foyer.

There is Mike, sitting comfortably reading something.

“Mike.” She says, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat.

Mike looks at her, his expression cool and calculating as always. He closes the book, his sharp eyes scanning her face.

“Well, well,” He drawls, his lips curling into a smirk “You look like hell. Let me guess—Queen YN had her fun at your expense?”

Dann glares at him, dropping her bag onto the floor.

“She humiliated me again. In front of everyone.”

Mike chuckles, crossing his arms “That’s her style. Did you expect a thank-you card for all your hard work?”

“I expected her to be human for once,” Dann snaps, her voice trembling with emotion “But she’s not. She’s a monster. And I’m done being her punching bag.”

Mike’s smirk widens, a glint of approval in his eyes “Finally. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever grow a backbone.”

Dann takes a deep breath, forcing herself to steady “You were right. About everything. YN needs to be taken down. For good.”

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued “And you’re ready to do what it takes?”

“Yes,” Dann says without hesitation, her fists clenching at her sides “I want to destroy her. Her reputation, her relationships, her entire world—I want it all gone.”

Mike stands up, and walks directly in front of her “Now you’re speaking my language. But do you have a plan, or are you just here to vent?”

Dann lifts her chin, meeting his gaze with newfound determination.

“I thought you might have some ideas. You’re the one who’s been watching her for years, waiting for her to slip up.”

“I do have a few ideas. But if we’re going to do this, we’ll need to be smart. YN’s not stupid—she’ll see a direct attack coming from a mile away.”

Dann nods, her anger simmering just below the surface.

“So what do we do?”

Mike gestures for her to follow him, leading her to a luxurious sitting room where he pours himself a drink.

He takes a slow sip before speaking.

“We chip away at her. Little by little. She’s built this image of perfection and control, but all it takes is one crack for the whole thing to shatter.” He leans against the bar, his eyes gleaming with malice “We start with Hongjoong. Make YN doubt his intentions.”

Dann swallows, the weight of his words settling over her.

“How do we do that?”

Mike swirls his drink lazily, watching Dann with a satisfied smirk.

"Simple," He says "We make her think the one person she trusts most is betraying her."

Dann frowns, confused "Hongjoong? But he’s loyal to her."

He chuckles, shaking his head "Loyalty is fragile. YN’s world is built on power and control—she doesn’t trust anyone completely. If we plant the right seeds, she’ll start questioning even him."

Dann crosses her arms "How? He barely even talks to anyone outside of their little circle."

Mike leans forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

"I’m pretty sure that after that nerd missed the party, he will apologize to her, right? Maybe this time he will fuck her as an apology.” He smiles, his words full of venom.

Dann shifts uncomfortably at Mike’s crude words, but she doesn’t argue. He’s right—Hongjoong will go crawling back to you, desperate to make it up to you.

He’s like a lost puppy when it comes to you, willing to do anything to stay by your side.

Mike watches her reaction carefully, then smirks “And when that happens, we’ll act.”

Dann furrows her brows “What do you mean?”

He sets his glass down with a soft clink, straightening up.

“I’ll tell you later, now go.”

Dann hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her face, but she does what he ordered. She turned around and left the room.

Whatever Mike is planning must be good.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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