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#I don’t care if this counts as art or not I’m doing art super infrequently nowadays so just. take it or leave it
callmekorora · 3 years
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Imagine having to do homework but instead wasting your day on a HIGHLY self indulgent edit of the Pony Town sprites you’re weirdly proud of of your sona giving your fictional crush a big ol smooch cause you thought it’d be really cute. Couldn’t be me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I may be cringe but I am free
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Ephemera Chapter Seventeen
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Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.
Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.
Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung
Word Count: 5.0k
Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung
Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently
A/N: PER-SO-NA ! WHO THE HELL AM I ! I’m so hyped up for this comeback, you guys. I can’t wait to see what they’ve prepared for us. I hope you guys like this new chapter! We’re winding down now. Probably only a few more chapters! It’s pretty lucky because the timing works for my trip to LA. Anyway, please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Links will be added later, so for now check my masterlist to find previous chapters!
And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all! And concert videos!!
- Mercury
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Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)
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“Sanyo Industries celebrates their thirtieth year in business-,”
“Six Sanyo products you can’t live without!”
“Last year, Sanyo’s gross income was-,”
Everywhere I went, it felt like that name followed me. On the walk back to my apartment, a disembodied radio host would shout it at me from the open window of a passing car. The ads on my social media all pointed to it. The very phone in my hand as I collapsed onto the couch was manufactured by them. I squeezed my eyes shut, begging night to fall faster. I didn’t want this to be reality.
Of course, I’d had my suspicions. With what Jungkook said before and that guy Younghoon from Sanyo and all the strange connections…
But I didn’t want to live in a world where this sort of corruption bled into even the most respected of companies. I didn’t want to believe what Seokjin said about corporations being legal criminals. I didn’t want to believe that the institutions I trusted were fraudulent.
Eyeing my cell phone, I quickly powered it off and slid it across the floor, furrowing my brow as I rested my face on the couch cushions. Today had been a bad one. Between the strange photo Taehyung had taken, Namjoon adding pressure, Nara losing her job, Yoongi’s involvement, and my own misgivings about ratting out Seokjin and the others, I felt like I could sleep for days.
And, even though my arm was dangling off the side and my cheek was squished against the stiff couch cushion, I shut my eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.
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Sighing, I took my seat in class. Professor Jung stood at the front of the room, scrolling through his phone, and I couldn’t help but feel hyperaware of it. His cell phone. Her laptop. His drawing tablet. I rubbed my bleary, warm eyes and rested my cheek in my palm, shaking my head.
“Morning,” said a deep, comforting voice I’d recognize anywhere.
I opened my eyes with a start and turned toward Taehyung as he stood beside my desk, smiling gently. He set a hot coffee beside me and settled in the seat to my left. He looked well. Shaven, hair windswept but not messy, glasses prim on the high bridge of his nose. He was dressed as usual: colorful and artsy, with a blue patterned button down and baggy slacks. He settled into his seat and gave me a smile before sipping his own coffee.
At his entrance, there was a noticeable shift in the classroom atmosphere. People became quieter, talking in hushed tones. Instead of chatting openly, now they leaned across desks and pushed aside paint brushes to whisper. I felt all the eyes on him and, by proxy, on me and sighed, resigning myself. I took a drink of coffee and ran my fingertips along the sides of the paper cup.
“I’m happy you came,” I said with a gentle smile his way.
Perhaps I’d have been content to forget about that picture he’d taken of me, sleeping. Perhaps deep down I wanted to pretend I’d never seen it. But when he turned to me with warm, tender eyes and a smile I felt a little piece of me shift out of place. The gesture wasn’t so innocent anymore. There was more now, more than before.
And I was too chicken to face it.
So instead I simply kept my smile pasted right on my face. Unwavering. “Yeah. After talking with you…I realized I’d probably regret it if I let my fear get in the way of something I’m passionate about.”
I nodded. “Good,” I said, giving his shoulder a weak punch. “Don’t go running away again, alright?”
He smiled and patted my hand, sighing as he eased into his seat. “I missed this room,” he said, then glanced around, his gaze quieting every person it touched. He winced a little, like it hurt, then chuckled and nodded. “Didn’t miss that.”
“What?” I asked.
He eyed me and shook his head. “Being looked at like that.”
I nodded. “I see…”
“But it’s different now,” he said with a simple nod, smiling as he sipped his coffee. “They’re not looking at me like I’m weak. They’re looking at me like…like I’m cool.”
I chuckled. “Maybe it’s because you are cool,” I teased with a smile.
He laughed, shrugging, and took another sip and another sweeping glance around the room. “I’m glad I came back.”
I was quiet for a moment, debating whether or not I should say what I wanted to say. But seeing his eyes cast down, watching his own deft hands as they moved gracefully over the top and sides of his coffee cup, I couldn’t help myself.
With a soft smile, I took a swig of my drink, sighed, and eyed him sidelong. “I’m proud of you, Taehyung.”
His back visibly stiffened and he turned to me with round eyes. “Hm?” he asked, and I caught a faint blush on his cheeks.
How had I missed all these signs?
Despite myself, I smiled and nodded. “I’m proud of you.”
He swallowed hard and looked away, back toward his hands, and smiled gently. Like he was really pleased. “Thanks…,” he said on an exhale.
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Class finished a few minutes earlier than usual, and as I was collecting my things and arranging my scarf around my neck, Taehyung reached out and grabbed the crook of my elbow. Startled, I turned to him expecting something to be wrong, out of place, but instead simply saw him smiling beside me, his bag already packed.
“Do you have time?” he asked.
I raised my brows and consulted my cell phone, checking the time. I didn’t have work until the evening and had intended to spend my break studying, but the hopefulness in Taehyung’s eyes halted me and instead of wasting my breath explaining it to him, I chose instead to nod and smile. Even though I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. Even though I didn’t want to face it.
“Sure,” I said.
He grinned and led the way out into the hallway.
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The day was crisp, but not unpleasantly so and the sky looked unblemished and endless overhead. The Han River lay peaceful below us as Taehyung and I leaned our forearms on the railing beside the sidewalk, overlooking the water and the boats and the children playing. I kicked the toe of my boot against the ground and watched a thin swirl of dust escape into the air.
“We came here that night, didn’t we?” I asked, although I knew the answer.
Taehyung nodded beside me and sighed. “Yeah.”
“I’ve caused you a lot of trouble these days, I think,” I said with a nod. It was true.
Looking at him now, I felt a little guilty keeping everything from him. He wasn’t a bad person, nor did he have bad intentions. But the longer I thought, the more I realized concealing the truth was an act of pity rather than cruelty. If I told him I was working as a spy for Namjoon, infiltrating Jungkook’s gang, putting myself at risk…surely he’d have a fit. And beyond that, he’d find some way to make himself the martyr.
And really, I didn’t see a single reason why anyone should be the martyr.
Perhaps it was foolish, but I held out hope for a more diplomatic solution.
He smiled and rubbed his jaw with a pensive sigh. “It’s not that you’ve caused me trouble,” he began, eyeing me with a smirk, “but that trouble follows you wherever you go.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “It didn’t used to,” I said, then paused, alarmed at just how true that was…
He nodded. “Regardless, I’d rather be in trouble with you than living a peaceful life without you.”
I stiffened, cheeks flaming, and cleared my throat. “Ah, well, the sentiment goes both ways,” I said with a nod, but cursed myself. Wasn’t I supposed to be more careful now? “Anyway, I guess more than anything I need to say thank you.”
He raised his brows and glanced at me, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “Thank me? Why?”
I shrugged. “For everything. For being here,” I said, then shook my head. “For being someone I could trust and rely on.”
His smile slowly fell and he nodded, letting his eyes wander back toward the river. “Is…is that all I am?”
I swallowed hard. Here it was. I laced my fingers as they dangled over the edge of the railing. “What else is there?”
“I…I think you know by now, but…I have feelings for you. Real feelings,” he said with a nod. “And I don’t know how else to say it.”
I kept my eyes on my hands, watching as they clasped and unclasped. My heart thumped too loud in my ears. “I…see…”
“Not a great reaction,” said Taehyung with a chuckle. “Although I didn’t expect you to feel the same way. Not now anyway.”
I tried to remain calm, to maintain my composure, to manage my expression so as not to hurt Taehyung. He was someone I valued, someone I loved. Long before I met him in person, he was someone I cherished more than anyone. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt someone like that.
I exhaled slowly, shutting my eyes for a moment as the wind swept up from the river, blowing against my cheeks. “You know…I told you before, that night we went out, that Vante was everything I couldn’t be.”
He nodded. “I remember.”
“I remember when I first began working at the gallery, feeling overwhelmed. I was so happy to be working. Like…a real job. In my industry and everything,” I said with a breathy chuckle. “My mom…she left when I was pretty young. She wanted to be a graphic designer, so she moved to Seoul. And, when I was old enough…so did I.”
“I…never knew,” said Taehyung with a somber nod.
I smiled. “Yeah,” I said, then sighed. “I staked a lot of my hopes on this job.  Getting good work experience, making connections, seeing my mom again. Everything that meant anything to me was tied to the job. And…in the beginning, I was scared I’d mess it all up somehow. Like, I’d forget something critical or I’d flub a sale and lose everything. So, just like when I was younger, I started taking on too much. More than I could handle, really. Extra shifts, opening or closing alone…because I was so desperate to do well, to be useful.”
“That’s a heavy burden,” he said.
I nodded. “But Vante made it lighter somehow. Like he understood me, understood the desperation. Like he would root for me even if I failed,” I said, my heart swelling as the fond memories returned like a warm rush of water. “Like I didn’t have to do anything or be anyone for him to believe in me.”
“I see…”
“He was almost like a guardian angel, as cliche as that sounds. Like someone who was watching over me while I was making my way in this new place, new job. He never asked me to be anything more or less than what I was, and he never made me feel like he’d disappear if I did something wrong,” I said, feeling my chest constrict.
“You’re very afraid, aren’t you? Of being abandoned?”
I nodded. “I realized it once I got older, but…I’ve been like this for a while. Like if I didn’t do everything perfectly, everyone I loved would leave,” I said with a sigh. “Which was why it was so powerful for me to have someone as strong and competent as Vante telling me I had value even if I didn’t do things perfectly.”
Taehyung was quiet for a long moment, but there was no malice in the set of his eyes as they watched the river. Just quiet. Just thinking. “I’m…happy I could be that person for you.”
I let the cool autumn air swallow his words before responding. “That’s why…it kinda hurt when you used me at that party,” I said with a nod. “I know it seems strange that I was so hurt by you when Jungkook had done such horrible things. I know it’s…counterintuitive.”
“I understand, though,” he said, eyeing me almost desperately.
I smiled. “I know you do,” I said, voice soft against the quiet cacophony of activity around us. “I guess…having the person who I trusted most, the person who would never exploit me like I let other people do…,” I paused with a sigh and clasped my cold hands together tightly, like a prayer. “I understand why you had to do it. Namjoon is your friend and I would have been happy to help had you told me beforehand.”
His brows furrowed as he gazed out across the river. “But would you have?” he asked, glancing at me. “Would you have knowingly betrayed Jungkook?”
I set my lips thin and met his eyes. “Yes,” I said with a single, sharp nod. “I would have done it.”
He swallowed hard and nodded. “I guess I was trying to do too much on my own,” he said.
“You have a tendency of doing that.”
He chuckled. “I know,” he said. “I’ll work on it. I don’t want to make a mistake like that again.”
I sighed. “I forgive you, by the way. Completely. Because your intentions were never cruel,” I said. “It just…disillusioned me. Which was probably for the best, really. Worshipping Vante made me rely on him too much. I figured if I just had him believing in me, that was enough.” I chuckled and nodded my head as my thoughts became clearer. “But now I think…I think it’s not enough until I believe in myself too.”
“That’s all I ever wanted,” he said, glancing at me. “I wanted you to get stronger.”
I nodded, smiling. “And I want to get stronger too,” I said. “On my own two feet. With nobody’s help.”
“Good.”
“Which is why I have to reject your confession,” I said, turning to face him properly.
His eyes widened and for a fraction of a second his expression revealed a little bit of shock, round eyes, open mouth. “O-oh!” he said, turning to me as well. “Um, sure.”
I smiled, reaching out to rub his forearm. “I think…maybe if you’d told me this before everything with Jungkook happened, I might have said yes.”
“Timing is a bitch,” said Taehyung with a soft smile. “I don’t have any hard feelings.”
I shook my head. “I’m not done,” I said, smiling up at him. “I might have said yes, not because I felt anything, but because I would have been too scared to be abandoned by you.”
He raised his brows, lips parted, and shook his head. “I-I’d never leave you behind because of something like this,” he said, chuckling. “You can’t control your feelings. No more than I can.”
I nodded. “I know,” I said. “I know that now. I know that the right people will stay even if I can’t be everything they want me to be. That the people who belong in my life won’t disappear like Mom did.”
He flashed me a slow, sad smile and swept me up in a soft embrace. “You’re right,” he said, nodding against my head. I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed. “You’re worth staying for.”
I sniffled a little in the cold and held on tight, feeling his warm, strong arms around my shoulders. Things seemed clearer now, less confused. And with that clarity came a feeling of strength. I remembered that ruby necklace, sitting on my wardrobe in its box. Perhaps I’d never needed something like that at all. Perhaps I didn’t need anyone holding me up.
Perhaps I could be my own strength now.
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I knocked on Nara’s door as the sun hung suspended on the horizon, nearly dipping below with the coming evening. Taehyung had called his driver and offered to take me home, but I’d refused. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable around him, in fact with the invisible tension between us now severed I felt more comfortable than ever, but I needed to check up on Nara and I needed a little time on my own to settle some matters in my mind.
Unfortunately, the walk did little to help, as the recording I had made my phone feel heavy and hot in my back pocket.
Nara pried the door open with Hyun pushing his head through the space between her hip and the doorframe, straining to meet me in the hallway. She gave me a weak, pale smile and gestured for me to come inside. I followed her small frame into the dark living room, the blinds drawn and the TV on low. It looked as if she’d been sleeping on the couch for the past few nights. Her hair was a mess, roots growing in black, and her eyes sported violet bags underneath, hanging to the starts of her cheekbones. She smiled and again it felt hollow.
Seeing her in such a state shook my resolve.
Wasn’t she more important after all? If it meant saving my friend, wasn’t I willing to sacrifice those boys at the headquarters?
“Hey,” she said softly, rubbing Hyun’s head like it was cathartic.
I crouched down before the big ball of white fur and gave his neck a good scratch, smiling. “You been well, Hyunnie?” I asked, working my fingers behind his ears. He panted and wagged his tail, leaning against my hands.
“He’s been better,” said Nara with a sniff.
“Yeah? Are you stressed because of all that business with your mom’s job?” I asked Hyun who remained, predictably, unbothered.
She chuckled. “Mhm. And the fact that mommy has applied to just about every open position in the city with no word back.”
“And college? Are you worried about your mom’s coursework?” I asked, eyeing Nara from below.
She was still smiling fondly at the top of Hyun’s head. “He’s not worried about that since Mommy hasn’t been keeping up with it anyway.”
At this, I sighed and stood upright, resting my hands on my hips. “Nara…”
She smiled and shook her head. “Too busy applying all over. And besides…I may as well drop out,” she said with a sigh.
I felt my eyes go wide and I approached her, gaping. “Nara, you can’t be serious.”
She shrugged. “I can just move back home with my parents. They always need help with Nunchi.”
“Nara, you can get another job,” I said, rubbing her shoulders. “You can’t get so down like this.”
She smiled. “I know,” she said with a sigh. “I really love my major and I want to get my degree. And it’s not like we’re in the middle of nowhere with no jobs. There’re plenty of opportunities. It’s just…with school and Hyun it’s a lot to take care of.”
I nodded. “I know,” I said, smoothing my palm against Hyun’s head. “I can take care of Hyun while you job hunt,” I offered.
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Nah, he’s the only reason I haven’t really gone off the deep end. I need this little shithead.”
“Have you heard from-,” I began, then swallowed hard and glanced away as she looked at me with expectant brown eyes. “That guy? That stray cat guy?”
She raised her brows. “I…no? Why would I?”
He…hadn’t reached out? After the conversation we had? I’d been too soft on him. I’d given him too much mercy. I should have been harder, should have demanded he take responsibility, demanded he write her a check right in front of me. Seething, I tried to conceal my clenched jaw with a hand.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times before shaking my head. “Just…figured maybe he’d reach out after seeing you’re not at work.”
She laughed, a wry sound, and shook her head. “Nah. I don’t think I made that much of an impact on him,” she began, then sighed. “Or on my job for that matter. Seems they’re doing fine without me.”
I sighed, feeling my phone in my pocket. I touched it gently and sighed. “You know…as soon as I give the proof to Namjoon you’ve got a job at Ori Technologies.”
She smiled. “But…that’s too much pressure to put on you,” she said, rubbing Hyun’s back. “Y’know, I realized it recently. Back when we had to help out around Nunchi.”
I stiffened. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head, crouching beside Hyun and working her hands through his thick fur. “When you said you’d get me a job at Ori. I felt…really useless, you know? And it made me realize that I’ve been relying on you for everything for so long. When I asked you to come over and help wth Hyun and didn’t even ask about what happened at Jungkook’s. When I beg you to keep me company at the pet shop…just when did I start treating you like the class dog too?”
I swallowed hard, my throat constricting. I shook my head. “You don’t treat me like that.”
She smiled up at me. “But I do,” she said with a nod. “Until when can I keep relying on you all the time? Until when am I gonna let other people fix things for me?”
I crouched beside her and held on to her shoulder. “Nara-,”
“If I get a job at Ori, it’ll be on my own merit,” she said, leveling her eyes at me. “You can keep doing this…spying thing or whatever, but just know you’re not doing it for me.”
“Nara…”
She looked at me seriously. “I’ll get back on my feet,” she said, nodding. “On my own.”
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Troubled, I sat at the front desk of the gallery as Areum worked the floor, showing patrons around with a halfway-there smile. I tried to greet them warmly, but my mind was elsewhere. Where was Yoongi and why hadn’t he compensated Nara yet?
And furthermore…wouldn’t she be mad if she knew I was coercing him into helping her after everything she said?
I worked my lower lip between my teeth and set my eyes low, watching the door as a well-dressed woman sauntered in with a smile. I gave her a nod and forced a grin before returning to stewing, resting my chin atop my laced fingers. Nara…wasn’t there anything I could do for her that wouldn’t upset her further?
“Y/N?”
I jumped and turned to face Mr. Kwon as he stood before the front desk, peering over the surface. Panicked, I wondered how long he’d been standing there watching me stare off into space. But to my relief and surprise, he greeted me not with a scolding or a scowl, but with an easy smile. He adjusted his lapels and scanned the desk, humming.
“Uh…hello, Sir,” I said, bowing my head.
He met my eyes once more, still smiling. On edge, I forced my own smile to remain plastered across my face. “You don’t have a drink at the desk,” he said.
I blinked at my empty desk and struggled to find the words. “Um…no, I don’t…,” I said, meeting his eyes once more with a confused smile.
He hummed once more and produced a banana milk from behind his back, handing it to me. “Well then, here you go,” he said, grinning. “Keep up the good work!”
I nodded, bowing my head, and glanced down at the milk in my hands, perplexed. I watched as he approached Areum, tapping her shoulder. She jumped and was quick to bow at the waist. He chuckled and, although I couldn’t hear him, I was sure he was giving her a similar speech because after only a moment he was presenting her with a banana milk as well.
She bowed as he excused himself to his office. Taking a cursory glance around the relatively quiet gallery, Areum rushed over to me and leaned down beside me behind the desk, eyeing her own milk.
“He gave you one too?” she asked, raising her brows.
I nodded, glancing over my shoulder at where he’d disappeared down the hallway. “Yeah…,” I began, shaking my head with furrowed brow. “The hell’s gotten into him?”
She raised her sculpted brows and leaned back. “You haven’t heard?”
I shook my head. “Heard what?” I asked.
She smirked and cupped a hand around the side of her mouth like we were sharing secrets at a slumber party. She leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Rumor has it he’s having talks with those Japanese charity guys about a business venture.”
“Business venture?” I asked, eyes wide.
She nodded, resting a hand on her hip after she stabbed her milk with the straw and took a sip. “Mhm,” she said with her lips still wrapped around the straw. “Dunno what kind of business, but it has to do with the gallery so he’s excited.”
I hummed and took a sip of my own milk. “Wonder what it is,” I said with a sigh.
She chuckled. “Don’t wonder,” she said, patting my shoulder as she turned on her heel back toward the floor. “You’ll just get sucked in to his weird energy.”
Weird was right, alright. I glanced back toward the hallway and wondered. Maybe Taehyung would tell me about it if I asked…
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I stepped out onto the street after my shift and sighed, glancing at my phone as it sat hefty in my palm. I had a big decision yet to make. And, despite trusting Jungkook well enough, I didn’t want to rely on him for this. I wanted to make the choice on my own. I wanted the decision to be mine only, so I could confidently stand beside it.
Despite my heavy thoughts, my stomach was light and as I took a step toward the subway entrance down the street, my gut grumbled like it was trying to communicate. I stared down at my abdomen and gave it a few rubs. Had I eaten today? I sighed and glanced around the road, tall buildings on either side. I’d eaten in this neighborhood a few times, but mostly for company dinners. Company dinners where I wasn’t expected to pay…
One of the detriments of working in a rich area.
I sighed and patted my stomach. Surely I could find a fast food joint around the corner or something if I gave it a real shot. I shoved my phone into my bag and wandered down the sidewalk, hanging a left down the street. To my chagrin, this street was no better. Businessmen and women walked with purpose on either side of me, in either direction. The buildings were just as tall and the restaurants were just as glitzy. Tenth-floor steakhouses, prime sushi bars, fusion restaurants with intoxicating scents and ridiculously expensive menus.
I shook my head and kept walking, but things weren’t much different on the next street. Or the next one. Block after block, things were just too glamorous to match my pay grade.
Would’ve been better off taking the subway, I thought to myself with a scowl. Frustrated, I wrapped my arms around my torso to keep my stomach from groaning and pressed onward. I was blocks away from the gallery, in a part of town that was labyrinthian and far too ritzy. Nonetheless, I held out hope for a McDonald’s.
I sighed, waiting at a busy crosswalk, watching the lilac twilight emerge through the gaps in the tops of tall buildings. Arms crossed, I sighed and my breath escaped in a plume of white. I lowered my eyes as the signal changed and the amorphous crowd of people moved forward in sync. But as I took a single step toward the street, I paused. Something caught my eye.
Across the street was a sleek black car with heavily tinted windows. A driver had just stepped out onto the sidewalk and was glancing around with shifting eyes partially obscured by sunglasses. Sure, I was in a rich neighborhood but this seemed excessive. Quietly, I watched, waiting for a celebrity to emerge or maybe even a politician.
But as the passenger stepped out, I felt my expectations crest and fall flat. Because not only did I know him, he was the person I was actively avoiding.
Kim Namjoon braced his polished shoes on the concrete sidewalk and adjusted his black button down so it lay just right across his broad chest. He smiled as he turned back to the car, leaning down to speak to someone still inside. Was he with someone important? An investor perhaps? I hung back across the sidewalk and watched like a hawk. It wasn’t my business, but something like curiosity kept me in place.
Namjoon stepped back from the car and fixed the sleeves of his shirt, patting down his pants with his palms. Was he preening or something? I might have laughed, but for fear of drawing attention to myself I kept quiet. He crossed his arms across his chest and grinned down at the car as his passenger scooted out onto the sidewalk. Not even offering his hand? I sighed and rubbed my forehead. He sure did have a knack for rubbing people wrong.
But before I could begrudge him for his lack of manners, his companion emerged, ducking his head as he exited the low cab of the car. My breath caught in my throat and my heart raced, thundering in my ears. Palms gathering sweat, I turned toward the crosswalk and saw that the signal was about to change to red. Desperately, I sprinted across to a symphony of honks from cars awaiting their turn. I waved my hands, frantic, and gave a few sloppy bows as I reached the other side of the street. Breathless, I turned back to the car where Namjoon had emerged, just to be absolutely certain I’d seen it right.
And indeed, there he was. Looking my way after the scene I’d caused in the crosswalk.
Standing beside Namjoon with wide, startled eyes and lips parted as if to speak was none other than Min Yoongi.
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noisymiagy · 4 years
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14 Amazing Life Lessons You Can Learn From Your Dog
Dogs know an aspect or two approximately dwelling lifestyles to the fullest. Right here are a number of their finest lifestyle classes.
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Does any being in this earth love lifestyles as plenty of a dog? Whether they're romping in sparkling snow or rolling over for belly rubs, our dog partners have a tendency to savor every second lifestyle offers them. So if we paid more interest, we might comprehend puppies are non-secular authorities who can manual us on the route to enlightenment.
1-Focus on the positive.
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You recognize while your head is within the clouds and also you locate your self feeling unhappy approximately something you cannot quite place your finger on? After which abruptly, your canine rolls over and gives you a look that announces, "how are you going to be so disappointed when there is a stomach rub for the taking right in front of you?"
Dogs are constantly there to remind us to awareness on the positive—er, effective—even supposing it's simply something small that brings us joy. In the end, how may want to matters be awful while this second feels so top?
2-Have faith.
There once changed into a dog named Devo who went viral for a totally adorable reason. His owner tweeted that he determined some lasagna in a cemetery as soon as, and each time he's long gone missing, he is always run off to that cemetery, seeking out more Italian food—even three years later. "I suppose his optimism is a beautiful component," Devo's owner told the dodo.
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It absolutely is! Puppies apprehend the authentic which means preserving the faith. They do not get discouraged when the things that they want does not appear. While there won't be lasagna within the cemetery ever once more, one in every of in recent times, some pasta will fall off of devo's owner's fork. And, whilst it does, he could be waiting.
3-Love unconditionally.
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As soon as you get a dog, you possibly have newfound expertise in what "unconditional love" means. Dogs love without awaiting anything in return, and shouldn't all of us do greater of that? It's not about who loves who greater or who does what for whom, it's simply loved for romance's sake. And it's so releasing!
4-Leave the past in the past.
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One of the most heartwarming matters about puppies is that, no matter how much suffering or abuse they have got long past through, they may be rehabilitated with just a little little bit of love and care. Dogs aren't bitter or irritated about what's come before. To doggies, this day is a good day, and that's all that counts.
As one owner wrote about her pit bull who changed into rendered blind after successful-and-run, "puppies can be placed via horrible matters, however, they still can bounce back and live a glad life. It's that capacity to go away the past within the beyond that make puppies so terrific."
5-Express gratitude.
Being happy comes down to focusing on what you have got, instead of what you don't. But for human beings, it truly is easier stated than performed. That is due to the fact we are programmed to take the best without any consideration and brood over the terrible alternatively.
However no longer dogs. On every occasion you feed your canine, they react as though it is the first time they have got ever seen meals. Each time you seize the leash to take them out for a stroll, they zoom backward and forward in a flurry of excitement. And each time you walk within the door, even in case you simply went to take the trash out, they're bursting with pleasure. Puppies remind us that even though something may be routine, we should always take time to understand that it's a part of our lives.
6-Be mindful.
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We people generally tend to have many complicated mind rattling round in our minds at all times. "what are we going to have for dinner?" "what did my partner suggest when they said that?" "why hasn't my boss replied to that electronic mail?" pretty soon, we've labored ourselves up right into a frenzy, and we don't even note the world round us.
Puppies, in the meantime, live inside the moment. "i'm walking with my wonderful human," they appear to be questioning. "i've picked up an super stick. Look, grass! Grass is so beautiful. Squirrel!" puppies are genuine masters in the art of mindfulness, and they are able to encourage us to completely absorb each moment as nicely.
7-Keep calm and carry on.
No matter what role dogs locate themselves in, they do not pressure. Let's assume they get caught in a cat door—and this is just hypothetical. Dogs do not war against the cat door they're caught in. They're one with the cat door. They understand they may get out of it while the time is proper.
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8-Be open to adventure.
Humans hesitate each time they're forced to do some thing with uncertain variables or unknown results. Puppies on the other hand? Genuinely open your car canine, and fido will bolt into the back seat. Positive, from time to time those automobile rides bring about journeys to the vet. However there is usually the threat that they may cause playtime within the park, and that makes the journey worthwhile.
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  9-Walk more.
Your canine is probably onto something with all the ones "walks" they are begging to take. Consistent with the mayo health facility, including on foot into your regular habitual permit you to prevent coronary heart ailment, improve your temper, and maintain a trim waistline. And that's infrequently the only manner puppies assist you to get healthy.
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10-Family doesn't have to be blood.
Puppies recognize better than any human that every now and then circle of relatives isn't always our blood household; it's the humans in our lives who we've got selected to have there. Our puppies may not be associated with us by blood, however, you'll in no way are aware of it based on the way they love us and vice versa.
11-Don't judge.
Dogs don't judge people based on the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, or their gender. (Heck, our colorblind canines can't even see the shade of our skin all that well!) What dogs rely on—and what we should rely on, too—in order to separate the good humans from the bad ones are simply people's personality traits and actions. It's smiles and pets that let dogs know that humans are trustworthy, not their race or whom they love. 
12-Bodies come in all shapes and sizes.
Big dogs, small dogs, thick dogs, skinny dogs—we love them all! Quite frankly, it doesn't make any sense how we embrace dogs not in spite of, but because of their body types and then judge each other for being too tall, too short, too fat, or too skinny.Every body is different, and we should love them just how they are. After all, if we can do it with dogs, then we can do it with each other, too.
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13-Be forgiving.
Have you ever accidentally slammed your canine's tail in a door or stepped on his paw? If your answer is sure, you then know inflicting pain on your doggy is one of the worst emotions inside the globe. And yet, our canine comrades seem to overlook that whatever ever occurred after only some seconds.Sure, puppies clearly are one of the most forgiving species obtainable—it truly is simply part of what makes them so carefree and happy-cross-fortunate. We human beings could analyze a thing or from puppies approximately forgiveness and letting pass of grudges.
14-See the light.
Have you noticed that dogs always manage to find the one sliver of light in an otherwise dark room in which to take a nap? They do the same thing figuratively as well, and it should inspire us to do the same.
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queerwonder · 7 years
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How safe do you feel on campus? How involved are the security guards? Do the dorm rooms lock with cards or keys? Is there a lot of support between the students and the faculty (I'm going into social sciences for reference)? Is there a noticeable amount of racial targeting? Is the coursework generally demanding (examples from your program would help)? How's the food on campus? Do you feel safe in that area of Ottawa most of the time? Is not speaking french really going to be a problem?
oookay so this is gonna be a long one
How safe do you feel on campus? I personally always felt quite safe on campus! uOttawa is well-lit and is also in downtown Ottawa, so even when you’re leaving campus you’re right next to a big shopping mall and the rest of the streets are also well lit. I can’t remember a lot of times in my university career where there wasn’t at least a few other people on campus, whether I was trudging home after a 10pm lecture or waiting outside the library for it to open early in the morning. I should make a pretty huge caveat that I’m a white person who for most of my uni career was fairly masculine-presenting, so I don’t know if I necessarily would’ve been a major… target? But you asked for my experience so…. that’s it.
How involved are the security guards? So I was never particularly impressed with the security guards per se, but there was a really great service on campus called Foot Patrol, which is run by (pre-screened) volunteers who help you walk or bus places on your way home, especially late at night but really any time of day. They’ll ride surprisingly far away from campus to keep you company and I always had really positive experiences with them. My interactions with security were fairly limited–once they were called to residence while I was at a party that got too loud and they were pretty gruff. I was always friendly to the ones in my building but I seemed to always run into ones that were just very reserved.
Do the dorm rooms lock with cards or keys? I lived in Brooks residence (and also started university a solid seven years ago, so things might have changed?), but my residence building was locked with a card, and my personal room was locked with a key. For reference, Brooks is the ~apartment-style~ res – you lived in a mini-apartment with three other people. Each person had a bedroom that locked with their own key, then there were two shared bathrooms and shared living space–a pretty tiny kitchen with a full-size refrigerator, an oven, a little bit of counter space, and a bigger living room with a tv and two ancient couches. There was a dinner table. It certainly wasn’t glamorous, but given that the food on uOttawa campus is pretty much garbage (or was when I went there), having my own kitchen was a huuuuuuge plus. I was also quite introverted and mostly didn’t party, and found Brooks to be a lot quieter than the other residences. There were some parties, but not as many as other residences, and it was easier to get away from them because we all had individual units and didn’t have the sort of “open door culture” that I saw in other residences.
Is there a lot of support between the students and the faculty (I’m going into social sciences for reference)? So I did my degree in the Faculty of Arts, but had a few classes with soc people. With one or two exceptions, I have nothing bad to say about any of the professors at the university. I found them, to a person, to be genuine and passionate and a lot of fun to be around. I strongly recommend that you go to office hours, even if you don’t need help with anything in particular–setting yourself apart from the crowd will make your professors care about you and your success a lot more. It also, to be blunt, results in better grades. Professors are more forgiving when they can picture you while they’re marking. It’s just human nature. I made good relationships with my professors and would even count a few of them among my friends now. When I was in third year university I had a bit of a breakdown and went around to each of my professors to explain why I was dropping their classes and taking time off, and every single of one of them was so kind and so accommodating. One of them in particular made me tea and gave me a pep talk I will remember for the rest of my life. When I was upfront with my professors about mental illness, when I came back and needed to do part-time studies, I was always given extensions and the support I needed. Treating your professors with respect, but remembering that they are human beings, goes a long, long way. If you go into their office with “I know I can’t get this paper done on time, but here’s what I’ve done and here’s my plan to do better,” there is no reason for them to say no (and if they DO say no, the clinic on campus is totally solid for sick notes–I got passes because of mental health stuff maybe four or five times.) Similarly, if you’re going to write a paper, I really encourage you to go to office hours and pitch it. Don’t ask your professor for sources or to do your work for you–just ask if the idea you have is specific enough, if they think there will be enough resources, if you’re being realistic about the issue you want to address within the page count. They are, generally speaking, there to help you–and I’ll say too that if you start out with “I’ve looked at x and y but really want to make sure I’m not missing any really important issues on this topic,” they will nearly always say “I’m not going to do the work for you,” as they’re handing you books from their bookshelves with articles or primary source material you need.
I know there are professors who are assbutts and more concerned with their research than teaching. I’m pretty sure those people don’t usually go into the social sciences.
Is there a noticeable amount of racial targeting? So, I’m a white person! I don’t feel qualified to answer this question really. I can tell you that when I was in third year, there was a threat on campus (WHICH ENDED UP BEING A HOAX, BUT STILL) and the school went into lockdown, and I saw some articles from people of colour who were discriminated against trying to get into rooms to be safe for the lockdown. That’s the only example I can think of, but from what I read institutional racism is a pretty fucking big hurdle to jump and uOttawa is not, so far as I’m aware, a magical post-racial utopia.
Is the coursework generally demanding (examples from your program would help)? 
How’s the food on campus? So, I graduated over a year ago and started my degree in 2010, but the entire time I was there I would say quite vehemently that the food on campus was garbage. Even on my initial tours of the campus it was obvious to me I didn’t want to be beholden to their meal plan. Thank God it wasn’t mandatory. I ate on campus as infrequently as possible. I also hung out at the freshii that was just off campus quite a lot.
That being said, it’s basically connected to a mall with a giant food court that was just renovated. So there’s a lot more local options than there used to be. And people complained about the food ALL THE TIME when I was there, so I like to think maybe they did some things to make it better. But from my personal experience? Jesus frikkin’ christ it was bad news bears.
Do you feel safe in that area of Ottawa most of the time? Most of the time, yes. To be honest, there was a stabbing at a shelter within a few kilometres of the university during my time there, and you hear about violence in the Market every so often. I would carefully say it’s not any more dangerous than any other big city. I have been street harassed and queer-bashed and had plenty of unpleasant experiences. But I don’t really know anyone without those experiences who lives in any city of a certain size.
Is not speaking french really going to be a problem? Not really. The administration is francophone and they will usually be a little nicer to you if you can talk to them in French, but that’s because they’re human and they’re sick and tired of French getting thrown under the bus. uOttawa gets a lot of cred for being ~bilingual~ and ~isn’t immersion great~ and ~such culture~ but it’s honestly super anglo-centric, anglo-focussed, and it’s entirely possible to pass the Immersion program without actually being what most people would call bilingual. I would say most of Ottawa is MUCH more accommodating to anglos. You have nothing to worry about.
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middlecountries · 7 years
Text
He Felt Nothing
As an infant, Karen Issa didn’t laugh very much, but rather, preferred to stare and ponder. This tendency continued as she got bigger and in grade school she was pegged by her classmates and teachers to soar high and far based on her cerebral and inquisitive disposition. 
But despite Karen’s intelligence she missed an important lesson in early life: too much thinking was a dangerous thing. In her Grade 8 valedictory speech she said that school should ask harder questions of young people like what they expected things to be like when they grew up and how they the children, planned to make their livings while not endangering the planet the way their parents were.    
The audience’s tepid applause following the speech marked the beginning of Karen’s social exclusion. The majority of her high school and university life was passed in solitude. She smoked pot and took Percocets as a substitute for social contact. Even on the occasions she did get invited to parties, the fact remained her imagination was more interesting than most of what went on in the outside world, or at least in Calgary, where she lived. 
Fortunately during university, Karen discovered that writing fiction could fuel her imagination without the negative side effects of drugs or the high cost of travel. Thus she decided to shirk a traditional, middle-class career-path and make writing her life’s goal.  
-
Matthew Colton’s father was a carpenter-handyman and his mother, a night-manager at Denny’s. From an earlier age, they’d both encouraged Matthew to find a high-paying, white-collar job that wouldn’t run him ragged to support a family the way theirs had them. Matthew rebelled and decided to go to art school after he graduated from high school. He built up and maintained his dream of being a visual artist despite bitter arguments with both his parents. But, after completing his degree and working for two years, he’d only managed to sell a few paintings and eating beans and rice every day was a drain on his creative energy. One day, at the art supply store where he worked to pay his bills, his manager said that he should have been an accountant because his cash-outs and ledger entries were so meticulous. Matthew paused and replied,  “Maybe I still will.” 
The night of his manager’s comment Matthew went to the five-bedroom house he rented with some friends and fellow artists. He looked up the requirements to become a chartered accountant and it turned out his fine arts counted towards the designation and that the additional courses and training he needed wouldn’t require another four years of full-time study and tens of thousands of dollars in tuition the way becoming a doctor or lawyer would. Only one flicker of doubt lingered in his mind: One of his roommate’s had once referred to accountants as “bean-counters.”
“Beats being a bean-eater,” Mathew said to himself, and he enrolled in Introductory Accounting Principles and Practice at the University of Calgary.
-
Karen experienced various professional and personal difficulties in her twenties but nothing so severe it broke her commitment to being a writer. Now, as she approached thirty, published in a handful of small literary magazines but without a book deal, the personal and financial costs of writing as a career began to weigh on her.  At least she was more stable money-wise, she thought. She’d started working as a flight-attendant for Air Canada, a job that gave her weeks off at a time to pour into writing. Plus, she was dating an accountant which made her feel more responsible by association.   
Throughout this time, her looks betrayed her. She was beautiful, with mother-of-pearl skin, wavy blonde hair and sharp hazel eyes. She and the accountant met at a mutual friend’s house-warming party where he‘d stared at her nearly non-stop for an hour.  After she’d ruled out he wasn’t near-sighted or dumb, she walked up to him and asked why he was staring at her, if she had something on her face or a third eye.  
“No,” he replied, “I was just picturing you in the morning with one of my shirts on.”
-
Matthew was on a set course and nothing or no one was going to detract him. He was six-foot-one without a ounce of excess weight, save his plush, full lips.  Before the party where he met Karen, he’d smoked half a dime bag and used the proposition of smoking the rest of it as a reason for inviting Karen back to his condo.   
There, under dimmed, halogen lights, they had good sex – too good sex for the experience not to be repeated. The next day Karen broke things off with Jim or Joe, whoever the pilot was she’d been seeing infrequently for a few months. -
Karen and Matthew had been dating almost a year when she boarded AC1896 from Calgary to Las Vegas.  It was the 15th of February, the day after Valentine’s Day.   
“Good morning, captains,” Karen said glancing towards the cockpit on her way to the flight attendants’ station at the back of the plane.  One of the pilots was Jim or Joe, the guy she’d dated before Matthew and he recognized her immediately.  He remembered how she’d dumped him less than a year ago, claiming that she needed space in order to better concentrate on writing. He was in the midst of hanging up his jacket in the hallway closet when she stepped into view. Feeling undesirable and embarrassed, he fumbled with the coat-hanger and dropped his jacket on the floor.          
Instinctively, Karen started to help him but then changed her mind. She feared that prolonging the encounter might expose the fact she couldn’t remember his name. “Have a good flight, captain,” she said and walked off, feeling her jilted ex-lover’s eyes on her back. If only she could remember his name maybe she wouldn’t feel so bad.  
Valerie and Mike arrived soon after and the cabin pressure fell. Karen took a discrete look at her compact to verify her sleeplessness was adequately hidden.  She snapped the heavy plastic case shut and spoke to Valerie: “Hi Valerie.  How’s LAS treating you? Which turn are you on?” 
“It’s my fourdt turn,” Valerie said. “It ‘as been vhery quiet. We ‘ad one passenger who was very drunk one time. He ran up and down de aisles yelling but I got ‘im to stop.”
“What did you do?”
“I crossed my arms and said, ‘If you don’t go back to your seat rhight this second you’re going to wish you were dead.’”
“You did not?!”
“Why don’t you ask the captaine?”
“Ok, I believe you.”   
“And you, Karen-l’écrivaine?  Where was your last turn?”
“Florida. That’s why I chose LAS. I’m hoping for a bit of excitement for a change. The retirees were killing me.”
“Careful what you desire, ma belle, or your story may turn out, how you say, tragique.’”
“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll want out of here before long…Hey, let’s play some black-jack when we get to Vegas. We’ll win a million dollars and never set foot on a plane again. Sound good?”
“Black-jack?” Mike cut in. “You guys want to hit Bellagio? It’s the best. They give you free drinks and have the hottest chicks.”  
Valerie gave him a knowing smile and asked,  “Where ‘ave you been flying, Michel?”
“Hey – Michelle’s a girl’s name. My name’s Mike, okay?”
Valerie rolled her eyes at Karen. “Hokay, Mike!”
“Good…I’ve been flying domestic. This is my first international turn. I’m totally pumped!”
Valerie rolled her eyes again. “Super!” she said. 
“Mike--” Karen interjected, “LAS has the most problems of any route we fly. If anything happens, just let Val or me take care of it, okay?”
Mike took out his cell-phone and looked at it in lieu of a response. After a few moments he said: “Oh, I better go get ready to greet the passengers.” He got up and walked up the aisle to wait for two-hundred-plus thrill-seeking travelers.
-
Matthew didn’t dislike Audit the way most junior accountants did. He was in his second articling year—supposedly the most difficult stage in the CA-certification process—at Ernst & Young. He was scheduled to write the Uniform Evaluation in June and the prospect of the thirteen-hour, three-day test didn’t bother him either.  He’d been working steadily towards his designation for almost four years and wasn’t going to let a few wrought tasks like counting lumber and passing an exam get in his way.  
He was standing in front of a sprawling room of wood at his client’s soft-wood lumber warehouse. There were varying lengths of spruce, birch, pine and fir stacked on a city of shelves. He looked at the moveable staircase he’d been given to help him count the wood and, after a short inspection, went to the warehouse manager’s office to ask for help using it.
The manager was seated at a big hardwood desk in his office. He was a bloated, middle-aged man, undoubtedly no stranger to conflict given his position of authority over semi-skilled, hard-living manual labourers. “You release the stop with your foot and push it,” he said impatiently in response to Matthew’s question about how to use the staircase.
Matthew stared at the warehouse manager and smiled. 
After a moment the manager sighed and got up. He led Matthew back out into the cavernous, eight-acre room to the movable stairs. “See?” he said, pushing down a metal lever with his foot. “This. Is. The. Stop.” He pushed down on the wheel-lock mechanism. “…Release…”  
The mechanism clanked, releasing the wheel stops.
“…Push…”  
“Thank you,” said Matthew. “That was extremely helpful.”
The manager shuffled away and Matthew set about verifying the existence of six-hundred and forty-thousand pieces of lumber.
-
Karen and Valerie followed Mike to the front of Economy and Valerie went to First Class. They helped the passengers to their seats, made sure that their seatbelts were buckled and that the overhead compartments were closed. The plane taxied and took off for LAS. They climbed to a cruising altitude of 37,532 feet and Captain Jim-Joe turned off the seatbelt sign. Karen got up from her fold-down chair and headed to the front of Economy with Mike to begin pouring drinks and passing out peanuts. 
The Las Vegas-bound flyers were not dissimilar the typical airline passenger. They were predominantly middle-aged and white.  They were all Canadian except for a group of four Irish. (Vegas’s veneer of luxury and riches could apparently lure people all the way from the other side of the world.)
Karen and Mike reached the last row of the plane, poured a few more ginger-ales and Cokes then sat back down in their fold-out flight-attendants’ chairs. Valerie returned from First Class and started to talk about all the things she and her husband were going to do on their next vacation. Mike flipped through a men’s magazine while Karen listened politely. She wished Valerie would talk herself out soon so she could read her book. She was mid-way through Anna Karenina and completely engrossed in it.
Just as the pauses in Valerie’s monologue were almost long enough that Karen could politely take out her book, Mike jutted in: “We went to Cancun on our grade twelve spring-break,” he said. “It was totally awesome.” “Reallee?  I ‘eard Cancun is full ov tourists…” 
Anna would have to continue to wait. Fortunately for Karen, last night’s sex with Matthew entered her mind and distracted her from her coworkers’ banal conversation. She remembered her climax vividly. The usual tightness between her shoulders dissolved and in its place formed a tingling ball of energy. The ball crept down her back, settled between her legs, and exploded, shattering everything. Her ceaseless intellect and cool detachment lay in ruins. For a moment she even lost track of where she stopped and Matthew begun. 
Fuck, she thought as they rocketed through the atmosphere. I might be falling in love.  
Then the plane made a sudden lurch and the seatbelt light came on.  
-
Matthew hadn’t seen daylight in more than a week but at least it was almost the mid-way point of the long, prairie winter. He’d taken a week off to mourn Karen but needed to get back to auditing lumber in order to stay on track for accreditation.  Besides, although he knew he’d miss her—she was good company and great in bed—they’d only been dating for about a year and who knew where it was going. At the time of her crash, she’d still been carting most of her stuff to and from his place on weekends. They hadn’t even talked about moving in together, let alone getting married.
But that morning, as he threw away the things she’d kept at his apartment, something inside him changed. She’d had overnight clothes in his dresser and make-up and skin lotion in the vanity in the bathroom. Her femininity-inspired possessions were finer and lighter than their male counterparts, and when he packed them into a computer paper box and threw them down the garbage shoot, he started to feel like he was choking. He imagined her things tumbling down the long, metal esophagus and landing in chicken bones and soiled paper serviettes in the dumpster in the underground parking lot. He felt heartless and uncaring, but what else could he do? He didn’t hold on to useless baggage. He looked down row 108 of 123 at his client’s lumber warehouse. The florescent lighting accentuated the yellowish hue of the stacks of lumber and, along with the natural variation in colour from piece-to-piece, the scene reminded him of Van Gogh’s Wheatfield with Cypresses.  
Then the image of Karen’s things in his condo dumpster returned to his head and he had to fight back the choking sensation again. He inspected the first shelf of row 108. It was made of steel, four feet deep by six feet wide and ten feet tall. The bottom platform was six inches from the ground, supported by four horizontal beams. 
Matthew pulled one four-by-four and one eight-by-two off the shelf and arranged them like a lever under the bottom platform’s long side facing away from the subsequent shelves of row 108. He positioned the fulcrum so that the lever would lift the shelf with maximum force yet also be flat enough for him to jump on without losing his balance. Then he wheeled the movable staircase up in front of the eight-by-two, walked up to the top, aimed, and jumped. 
He landed on the eight-by-two and the lever lifted and toppled the half-ton shelf. The self fell into the shelf next to it, and it fell into the one after that, and so on.
Matthew watched the shelves domino with increasing speed and force all the way down the row of them. The warehouse manager came running out of his office at the sound of the crashing. He came up beside Matthew as the last shelf fell fifty metres away. He breathed heavily and put his hands on his face in exasperation. He looked back and forth between Matthew and the wreckage of fallen shelves. “What the fuck happened?!” he shouted.  
But Matthew had already turned and started walking towards the exit. He tossed his clipboard and pencil on the ground.  Useless baggage, he thought.  
-
No one should have begrudged Karen her detachment from outer life, but invariably they did. Matthew thought she lacked interest in him so he acted disinterested towards her in return. It was less ignorant than any of her previous boyfriends’ but flawed all-the-same.  
Captain Jim-Joe’s misinterpretation was murderous, sexist, and no-doubt a product of much deeper psychological problems and mental illness. He thought that Karen’s rejection of him was based on her conscious appraisal of his person, rather than her general obtuseness, or at most, a passing assessment of their mutual incompatibility.  
On the morning he saw her for the first time since she’d dumped him, his co-pilot stepped out of the cabin to use the bathroom shortly after they’d reached cruising altitude. Jim told himself that if he couldn’t attract a flight attendant, he wasn’t a real captain, or even a man. He locked the cabin door, and amidst the pleas and screams that soon arrived from outside, he steered the plane and its two-hundred and twelve innocent passengers and crew into the peak of Mount Jefferson.  
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Ephemera Chapter Seven
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Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.
Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.
Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung
Word Count: 7.0k
Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung
Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently
A/N: Hello hello! My sister has been in town visiting me this weekend, so I was nervous with all the activity that I wouldn’t get the chapter done how I want it, but in the end it worked out well! I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you so much for all the endless support and encouragement you guys send. It means the world. And as always, please feel free to shoot comments, critiques, ideas, questions, theories, or really anything my way! I’ll respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them. And I will add links later! For now, please just check my masterlist for previous chapters~
And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!
- Mercury
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“Hello?” I called through the courtyard, dragging my luggage behind me as I glanced around.
Just like always, pots the size of my waist sat haphazardly around the court, foliage slightly unkempt and growing in vines around the gaps in the stone fencing. The wheels of my suitcase caught in patches of gravel likely dragged in from the dirt road. In the distance, I heard the sound of old tires screeching. Our cab had officially left us in the dust.
“Why didn’t your dad pick you up?” asked Jungkook from behind me, eyes scanning the old house eagerly.
I glanced back at him. “It’s rice season,” I said, then shrugged and picked my suitcase up off its wheels, sick of struggling.
“Rice-,” began Jungkook, but his words halted as he watched me maneuver awkwardly through the courtyard.
I hoisted my luggage up onto the raised patio with a grunt and climbed up after it. “Dad?!” I called, louder this time.
I heard shuffling from inside the house, and a frantic sort of mumble-yell that I knew belonged to my dad. I smiled and jerked my head toward the door as Jungkook lingered awkwardly below me in the court. With wide eyes, he jumped and nodded, hopping up to stand beside me.
“Comin’, comin’!” called Dad from behind the thin door before sliding it out of the way with a big grin. “Well if it isn’t my little booger!”
I laughed as he yanked me roughly into his arms. Still a tough, weathered man, my father’s eyes disappeared whenever he smiled and his big hands were calloused and tanned from years of toil under the sun. When he pulled back, I noticed he was darker than usual with red patches on the highs of his cheeks and nose.
“You’re not wearing sunscreen,” I said with a pout.
He ruffled my hair and smiled. “Sorry, kiddo. Takes too much time in the mornin’,” he said, then glanced back, eyes going wide as if he’d finally noticed Jungkook standing there. “And who’s this handsome kid?”
I turned to see Jungkook standing stiffly, his back completely straight as he blinked at my dad like a man in the military. “Jeon Jungkook, sir.”
I sputtered a laugh, but covered it with my hand and a faux cough. “Ahem,” I said, then patted my dad’s arm with a smile. “My boyfriend. The one I told you about.”
Dad marveled at Jungkook for a long moment, mouth agape, before blinking at me and giving a bright smile. “Ah! Well welcome in, Jungkook!” he said before enveloping Jungkook in a gruff bear-hug. He laughed heartily as he pulled away and scanned Jungkook for a moment. “Like lookin’ in a picture of me twenty years ago! Doesn’t he look like me, Grubs?”
I laughed and nodded. “Sure, Dad,” I said, patting his shoulder and slipping past him into the house.
Dad hooked an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders as the two strolled in with the autumn breeze. Dad’s flannel was crusted with dirt and his cap was on backwards, allowing his face to accumulate quite a nice film of dust. I sighed at him as he rattled off compliments to Jungkook rapid-fire, the young boy staring at the older with wide eyes and a half-smile that only made him look uncomfortable.
“Dad,” I whined, crossing my arms.
He glanced at me, like he’d forgotten my presence at all, and blinked. “Huh?” he asked, jerking up his chin.
I gripped the bridge of my nose. “You’ve been in the field all morning, haven’t you?” I asked.
He sniffled a little, releasing Jungkook’s shoulders to rub beneath his nose. “Well, ‘course. It’s rice season.”
Jungkook furrowed his brow and blinked, opening his mouth as if to speak but before he could I stole the chance. “Dad!” I continued, shaking my head. “If you were working you should’ve told me not to come.”
“You know what season it is,” said Dad with a shrug, wandering into the kitchen and rifling through the fridge. As he bent down to examine it, I noticed him wince just a little. “You want a beer, Mr. Kook? I gotta heck of a stash here.”
Jungkook opened his mouth again, but I still wasn’t finished. “Honestly, Dad! You’re too nice. You should have told me if you were too busy,” I protested.
He smiled, grabbing three beers and handing one to both me and Jungkook. “Here you are, kiddos,” he said, touching the glass necks of both of our bottles with a grin. “Grub, why don’t you show your boyfriend the spare room? I gotta get back out there.”
“Dad!”
“Excuse me, but-,” began Jungkook.
I held my hand out to silence him and frowned. “Don’t you have Hyuk helping you these days?”
“Kid’s got a girlfriend to see on weekends,” said Dad in a mumble, waving his hand dismissively as he took a swig of beer. “Anyway, I’m plenty strong. I can manage on my own sometimes too.”
I sighed. “I have a -,” started Jungkook again.
“You always do this,” I said, shaking my head. “Dad, if you’re too soft, people will take advantage of you.”
Dad smiled at me, pearly teeth exposed and eyes crescent moons. He ruffled my hair again and laughed before turning toward the back door with a wave. “Glad to have you home, Pumpkin!”
“Dad!” I called, having half a mind to run after the man and stop him mid-stride. But instead I simply sighed and ran a hand through my hair, eyes on the ground.
“Um…,” said Jungkook from behind me, and I slowly turned to face him. He stood by the entrance to the kitchen, one hand in the air as if he was in grade school, cheeks flushed and brows knitted. “I have a question.”
I nodded. “What is it?”
“What’s rice season?”
And with that pure, innocent question my frustration ebbed and gave way to a small, bittersweet smile. This was what I liked about Jungkook anyway. I chuckled and gave his shoulder a pat. “You only harvest rice in autumn, Kook.”
“Oh…,” he said, clearly puzzling over this. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I repeated, laughing at his confused face. I gave his chin a little shake before turning toward the hallway. “Follow me. I’ll show you your room,” I said.
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I tied my hair up with a sigh, glancing at myself in the mirror. Gone were the fineries Taehyung had loaned me, folded neatly on the edge of my childhood bed. That necklace too was stowed safely in its box. Instead, I stood in my old pastel bedroom in my old work clothes. Old turtleneck and a patterned button-down Dad had given me years ago. Long khaki pants and waterproof boots still covered in dried dirt.
Quietly, I passed Jungkook’s open door and he rushed out to meet me. “Where are you going?” he asked from the doorway, blinking.
I turned to him and begrudged myself a little. I was supposed to be grilling him, beguiling him, seducing him into revealing his weakness. But here I was, dressed like a village auntie about to yank sweet potatoes from the ground.
There was nothing beguiling about me right now.
“Um…I’m gonna go help my Dad,” I said with a smile, glancing out the window at the fields. “He’s too damn stubborn to ask, but I think he needs it.” He crouched in front of the swaying rice, one hand clutching his back.
Without a second word, Jungkook rushed out into the hallway in his ripped jeans and perfect shirt. “I’ll help too,” he said with a smile I had to admit was both genuine and eager.
I laughed. “No,” I said, gently patting his chest with my pink-gloved hand. Aghast at the contrast between his handsome, broad chest and my goofy gloves, I quickly dropped my hand and smiled. “You’ll get your clothes dirty.”
“I don’t care,” he said with a shrug, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. His eyes went warm and tender and I hated the part of me that melted beneath his soft fingertips. “I wanna help.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Honestly, it won’t take long once I get out there. He’s already halfway done with the rice and the root veggies don’t need two people.”
Jungkook pouted and crossed his arms. “But I want to help,” he said.
God, did he know how cute he was when he did that? I composed myself with a smile. “It’s fine-,”
“Let me help you,” he said, raising his brows. “You said your dad was stubborn, but the way I see it you’re worse.”
I stiffened. “I-I’m nothing like my dad!”
He smirked. “Prove it,” he said, eyeing me.
I inhaled slowly and shrugged. What harm could it do really? And besides, maybe showing him this side of my life would endear him to me, make him vulnerable. “Spare clothes are in the dresser,” I said with a shrug, tossing my hand as I wandered out into the living room.
“Yes!” he called, and I heard the sound of rapid footsteps receding down the hall. “I’ll meet you out there!”
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As I shut the door behind me, Dad called out from the swaying rice, “Grubs! What’re you doin’ out here?”
I smiled as I turned around, making my way to the sweet potatoes. “Helping!” I responded, giving him a wink as I passed him on the footpath.
Dad’s farm wasn’t too extensive. He harvested just enough to turn a profit, and much of that profit was thanks to Mr. Kim’s cafe. A few fields spread out along the valley, only a mile in any direction at the largest, nestled up against the lilac mountainside. When I was young, I used to hate helping Dad with the harvesting. Felt tedious. But as I grew, I started to feel the charm in it. There’s a certain quality about the work that shuts your mind up.
Maybe that’s why Dad insisted on working dawn until dusk…
“You got a digging fork?” asked Dad, shouting over the thin fences.
I laughed and turned to him, wiggling my tool in the air. “You think I’m new to this?” I asked.
He laughed, a joyful sound, then waved his gloved hand and crouched down once more, returning to the crops. I sighed and crouched down myself, pushing the yellowed vines out of the way to get a proper look at the soil. I heard the back door slide closed and glanced up to see Jungkook standing awkwardly on the patio, glancing around the fields with wide eyes and one hand rubbing the back of his head.
I sighed and waved my digging fork, seizing his attention. “Go help my dad with the rice!” I called.
“No! I’m almost done here. Work on the potatoes!” Dad called in response, half-concealed by the fence and the rice.
I rolled my eyes. “Sounds like a lie!” I responded.
He laughed again, the sound echoing through the expanse of field. “Been working on this harvest for a few days anyhow!”
Instead of fighting, I simply waved my hands, conceding with a sigh as I returned to the vines. “So…?” asked Jungkook, scratching his arm.
I glanced up at him and jerked my head toward the bucket beside him. “Grab one of these!” I called, pointing to my fork before digging the prongs into the soft soil, jimmying it in the hopes of loosening the root.
Before long, Jungkook was crouched beside me. His legs were slightly too long for the pants Dad kept in the spare room, leaving his ankles exposed to the cold. The only other spare gloves we had were neon green, clashing fiercely against the paisley button-down he’d found. He wore a visor over his forehead, shielding his head, but his hair was parted down the middle and I knew he’d get a sunburn on his scalp by afternoon. Even the way he sat on his heels between rows of vines looked awkward, out of place.
But when he turned to me, he wore a smile that stole my breath. The apples of his cheeks were round with the grin, revealing his teeth and the freckle beneath his lip. I’d never noticed, but when he smiled that way a few charming lines appeared by his half-shut eyes. It was a detail that was both endearing and heart wrenching.
Even after confronting the reality that I didn’t know this person, why did it feel in that moment as if I had all along?
“This is cool!” he said with a chuckle, adjusting the brim of his visor. “How do I do it?”
I blinked at him a few times before clearing my throat and inching closer to him. “Find the crown,” I said, pulling a few vines skyward to reveal where they shot into the ground. “Use the digging fork to pry the root out,” I said, nodding at the soil as I patted it slightly.
Jungkook nodded, rolling up his shirt sleeves to the elbows, and furrowed his brow. “Got it,” he said, striking the damp earth with the prongs of his fork until it gave way to his aggression.
I stiffened and grabbed his wrist before he could stab the ground again, eyes wide. “Too rough!” I exclaimed.
Without thinking, I leaned closer to him, resting my shoulder against the side of his chest and guiding his hand back to the ground. Gently, I worked the fork into the soil, both my hands holding his as I pressed into the tool slightly, feeling it sink.
I sighed, relieved, before glancing up to meet Jungkook’s eyes. His cheeks were slightly rosy again, that troubling blush that disarmed me. “You have to be gentle otherwise you’ll damage it,” I said, then stiffened slightly as the words hit me wrong.
He blinked down at me, Adam’s apple bobbing once, before averting his eyes and clearing his throat with a nod. “Alright,” he said, turning back to the vines as I did the same.
The two of us were short on space in that row, squatting side-by-side as we carefully removed sweet potatoes from the ground. One inch to the left and I’d practically be in his arms.
“Is your mom working?” asked Jungkook from beside me.
I jumped a little, lost in thought, and turned to him. His eyes were still cast on the vines, lashes dusting his still-flushed cheeks. “Um…I don’t know.”
“Oh,” said Jungkook, prying a potato out of the dirt with a grunt and setting it aside with the others. “Where is she then?” he asked, finally turning to meet my eyes.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying to find the words, watching the sun as it caught in the ends of his hair, honey-colored. I shut my mouth and rubbed at an itch on my cheek with my gloved hand. “I, uh, I don’t know.”
He hummed then continued to work. “Didn’t she say where she was going?”
I swallowed hard and smiled the space between my feet. “No,” I said, digging in to the earth once more. “She didn’t say.”
“My mom stayed home with me growing up,” said Jungkook with a nod as he worked diligently. My ears perked. A possible weakness? “I guess she didn’t stay home with Haneul and regretted it a lot.”
“Ah, your brother,” I said, nodding. “She was working?”
“Had to,” he said with a laugh. “With Dad being such a deadbeat, somebody needed to step up.”
Something like guilt crept up my spine. Was this information okay to exploit? “She sounds like a good woman,” I said, quiet. There was an ugly feeling in my chest.
He chuckled. “Seems is the right word,” he said, pointing his fork at me with a playful smirk. “Nothing I did was ever enough. Haneul was always the star, you know?” He sighed with a shrug. “Sometimes I wanted to be praised too.”
“Hm,” I said, not knowing quite how to proceed under the tender autumn sun. “I think that’s universal.”
He glanced at me. “What is?”
“Wanting to be acknowledged,” I said, nodding. “Wanting to be liked.”
Jungkook blinked. “You know how that feels?”
A sad smile came over me as I met his warm eyes. “Mhm,” I said. “Really well, actually.”
He furrowed his brow before sighing and returning to the potatoes. “Sometimes…,” he began, then stopped and cleared his throat.
“What?” I asked, scanning him.
He shook his head and waved his hand. “Forget it. Nothing.”
I inched near him and poised my head in his line of sight, smiling as I craned my neck. His eyes went wide and a flush touched his cheeks. “Tell me?” I asked, watching the color touch his neck. What sort of reaction was this? I reached out and placed a hand atop his knee. “I wanna know!”
He laughed, fanning himself with one hand as he glanced to the side and shook his head. “Jesus,” he exhaled before taking a deep breath and returning his attention to me. “Just…sometimes I wonder if I care about you more than you care about yourself, you know?”
I backed away slightly, stunned, and hinged and unhinged my jaw. “You…,” I began, giving my head a sharp shake before meeting his eyes again. “You care about me?”
His brows raised. “Huh?” he asked before a troubled look overtook his features. “Yeah…,” he said, but that troubled look remained. Like even he was unsettled by his confession.
There was a brief flash of something vulnerable in his eyes, but like a mirage it was gone in a blink.
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I collapsed against the couch with a thud as the sun outside began its lazy descent toward the horizon. Jungkook joined me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as the two of us stared off into the middle distance. Dad wasn’t far behind us, laughing as he patted dust off his jeans and threw his dirty gloves on the kitchen counter.
“Tired?” he asked as a plume of fine dust came billowing out from beneath the gloves.
“Dad!” I shouted, whipping around to stare at him. “That’s messy!”
Again, he only laughed and waved a hand, making his way into the kitchen with a smile. “She nag you this much, Jungkook?”
“No, sir,” said Jungkook with a teasing smirk. “In fact, I’m the one who nags her.”
I gave his arm a smack, but quickly remembered my mission and stiffened, turning back to my dad. “If you let the place get cluttered, it’s only gonna make you feel cluttered.”
He nodded as he winced and bent below the stove to grab his shallow pot. “We’re makin’ hotpot,” said Dad as he tossed the thing with a clatter onto the countertop.
I sighed and fell back against the couch, watching the old wooden ceiling. Jungkook smiled and wrapped both arms around my waist. Was it just me or was he getting touchier lately? “I saw someone who reminded me of you the other day,” he said in a low voice, quiet enough for my dad not to hear.
Instinctually, I wanted to cringe away from his touch. But instead I leaned into him and forced a smile. “Hm?”
“She was really pretty,” said Jungkook with a nod.
I turned stern eyes to him and cocked a brow. “You’re looking at other girls now?” I asked, but felt stupid the second the words caught the air. I’d seen him with another girl on his lap…
How stupid of me to once again let myself forget what I was to him.
A means to an end.
He shook his head and pulled me closer, grinning against my hair. “No, baby,” he said, then laughed. “Only the ones who look like you.”
That girl on his lap looked nothing like me…
I turned to him with a smile before breaking free of his grip and wiping my hands on my dirty pants. “I’m gonna go clean myself up and help Dad with dinner. Feel free to rest for a while,” I said before walking quickly into the hallway.
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I returned in fresh clothes to my dad standing alone in the kitchen and the sound of water running down the hall. Jungkook must have excused himself to take a shower. I approached from behind and pulled the cutting board from beside the sink, beginning work on the cabbage. As the knife slid through the clean leaves, Dad cleared his throat and I knew there was something he wanted to say.
“That boy…,” began Dad slowly, eyeing me sidelong as he prepped the beef.
I sighed, my slicing motions slowing to a halt. “Yeah?”
He stared at the beef for a moment. He was always like this. He never quite knew how to talk to me about delicate things like boys or puberty or Mom. So, often we were left to simply…live with those delicate things hanging in the air, never properly addressed.
Tonight was different, however.
“He’s a good kid, Y/N,” he said, meeting my eyes almost shyly from beside me.
I blinked at him. “You…you think so?” I asked.
He pursed his lips and continued adding more sauces to the marinade. “You’ve never brought anyone home,” he said with a nod. “I…guess I can understand why.” He laughed a little, but it rang out sad.
I turned to him with wide eyes. “Dad, I’m not ashamed of you,” I said seriously, placing the knife on the table and placing a hand on his forearm.
He turned to me with a smile and nodded. “I know, Grubs,” he said. “Just…this probably isn’t the home you thought you’d be bringing a partner to when you were a kid.”
I stiffened, swallowing hard. “It’s not that,” I said. But he was right. There was something decidedly missing. I shook my head. “I’ve never really dated anyone before. That’s why.”
He chuckled and pinched my cheek before returning to the beef. “You don’t have to explain yourself, kiddo. I gotcha.”
“Dad…,” I started, but I didn’t know where to take the sentence. I didn’t know how to console him without lying. So I simply sighed and began slicing the mushrooms thin. “What makes you say he’s a good kid?”
“Looks at you nice,” he said, smiling. “Like I used to look at your mom.”
My cheeks flushed as I stared out into the living room, my body frozen. He rarely mentioned Mom. I could only blink, holding the knife so tight my knuckles went white. “He…really?” I asked, ashamed at how small and vulnerable my voice sounded.
He hummed in response, like the shift in conversation didn’t bother him at all, and pulled the portable stove from the cabinet beside his hip. “Looks at you like he’s scared.”
“That’s a good thing?” I asked, something heavy and sad settling on my chest.
He laughed lightly, running a clean rag over the stove. “Sure,” he said. “That look means a lotta things, you know.”
“Like what?”
“Like that the idea of losin’ you is just as scary as the idea of keepin’ you close.” He laughed a little before carrying the stove to the dining table with a whistle. “But what do I know, huh?”
Troubled, I stood stunned into stillness before the counter, eyes glazing as a melancholy thought rushed over me. I knew why he wouldn’t want to lose me. I was his in, his mark that he’d been working on for months. I was likely the key to whatever plot he had been working towards for who knows how long.
But…why would being close to me scare him just as much?
“Ah…sorry…,” said a timid voice from the hallway.
I jumped and looked up to see Jungkook lingering halfway hidden behind the wall as he peered out at me, eyes soft. Something briefly passed between us that I couldn’t name, something sort of like embarrassment, like when you see something you shouldn’t have. And in an instant I was certain he’d heard at least part of what my father had said.
What part, I had no idea.
But he swallowed hard and avoided my eyes. “I don’t know where your towels are…,” he said, coughing a little.
Flushed, I nodded and patted Dad’s shoulder as I maneuvered past him. “Are you okay to finish up without me?” I asked.
He scoffed and ruffled my hair. “Think your old man can’t handle hotpot on his own? After raising you on my back?”
I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Right, right,” I said, waving my hand with a laugh. I met Jungkook’s eyes, tension in the air, and offered a tight-lipped smile. “Let me grab one for you.”
“Ah, alright,” he said, following close behind me as I passed him. “Um…,” he said quietly as we padded through the hallway.
Once I’d grabbed a towel from the hallway closet, I paused and turned to glance at him. “Mhm?” I asked.
I handed him the towel which he took without looking. He swallowed hard and stared at something over my head, mouth agape and fidgeting from foot to foot. “I-I…um, your dad…,” he said, cheeks flushed.
I’d never seen him so nervous.
I nodded and pressed slightly closer. “What’s wrong?” I asked, scanning him from below.
He exhaled slowly, shutting his eyes before at long last meeting my eyes again. This time he didn’t look away and his blush only deepened. “Can…um, can you tell him thanks for me?” he asked. “For having me over.”
I raised my brows. “Why can’t you tell him yourself?” I asked.
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t,” he said. “I…I just need you to do it.”
For a moment I thought about it. What could spook him this much? I reached out slowly, brushing his overgrown fringe from his eyes so I could look at him properly. Confounded, I tilted my head to the side and tried to examine his features, but his gaze had begun skittering around once more, never once landing on mine for more than a second.
“Jungkook…,” I began, thinking. “Hey, can’t you look at me?” I wasn’t sure what had emboldened me this way. I’d never been so dominant. But despite myself, I was beginning to grow concerned for Jungkook’s wellbeing.
Had he really been this shocked by what my dad said?
“S-Sorry, I…um, it’s just I’m a little…,” began Jungkook, but still he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Quickly, I raised my hands to his cheeks and forced him to look at me properly. His brown eyes went wide and his lips parted. “You feel warm,” I said, smoothing my fingers against his hot skin. I sighed. “Was the sun too much?”
Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around my right hand and exhaled slowly, eyes scanning me. “No,” he said quietly, gaze falling to the floor. “Sorry. I just…I overheard what your dad said.”
I stiffened. Had he always been so honest? The irony was almost funny. I sighed as he laced his fingers through mine and dropped my left hand. “Don’t worry about him, Jungkook. He’s just surprised I brought a boy home, that’s all.”
“It’s not that,” he said, then sighed and shook his head, releasing my hand and waving his own. “Forget it,” he said with a breathy laugh. “Thanks for the towel, babe.” He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead before turning and disappearing into the steaming bathroom.
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“Drink up, kid! It’s not even that strong!” shouted my dad, slightly inebriated, at the dinner table.
With most of the hotpot eaten and a whole bottle of rice wine consumed between us, Dad was getting more rambunctious. He always got this way, and despite being a robust man his alcohol tolerance was remarkably low. Jungkook on the other hand seemed to be faring just fine. His hair was still damp from the shower, but his cheeks weren’t so red anymore. He still couldn’t look at me for more than a few seconds though…
“I’m really okay, sir,” he said with a chuckle, pushing his cup away.
Dad slammed a palm on the table, causing the rice wine to slosh around, and laughed boisterously. “You gotta stop with the ‘sir’ thing, boy! Makin’ me feel like an old man,” he grumbled, taking another big swig.
Jungkook laughed again and nodded. “What would you rather me call you?” he asked, a playful smile on his lips.
Dad hummed, cracked his knuckles, and gave Jungkook a toothy grin. “Call me Dad!”
“Dad!” I shouted, shocked.
He shook his head and pointed at me. “Not you!”
“Don’t make him uncomfortable!” I scolded, my own voice getting louder.
Dad scowled and rolled his eyes at me. “I’m bein’ welcoming! Don’t make him feel unwelcome!”
I shook my head and furrowed my brow. After our conversation in the field, I worried that perhaps Dad was crossing an irrevocable line. Jungkook’s relationship with his own father didn’t seem so great, and for my own father to play surrogate seemed inappropriate. Especially knowing Jungkook wasn’t with me out of genuine love…
No. It was more than that.
As I glanced at Jungkook, I found myself praying that he wouldn’t remember unpleasant things about his own dad because of what my dad had said.
But instead, I found him smiling warmly, stirring his rice wine gently with his pinkie like my dad had taught him only a half hour earlier. “Dad…,” he repeated with a laugh.
“See?” my dad said, nodding his head vehemently as he gave me the side eye. “He likes it.”
“Is it really okay?” I asked Jungkook, my voice quiet.
He turned to me, smiling, and nodded. “It’s fine.”
Before anyone could say anything else, Jungkook’s phone chimed and he was quick to fish it from his pocket, unlocking it quickly and scanning the words with a frown. Both me and my father noticed the shift in his mood, and I was content to let Jungkook work it out on his own. But it seemed Dad wasn’t quite so benevolent.
Without warning, he stood to his feet and grabbed Jungkook by the crook of his elbow, yanking him roughly from his chair. “C’mon kid, we’re gonna go for a walk,” he said with a drunken nod. “Clear your head!”
“Dad, let him sit,” I groaned, but I knew it was no use. He wouldn’t listen to me just like always.
But as Dad dragged Jungkook away, his phone fell from his hands and clattered to the ground. Jungkook tossed nervous looks over his shoulder, scanning the dining table for his cell phone. Quietly, I inched closer to it and once the two of them were outside, the door sliding shut behind them, I fell to the floor and retrieved it before it locked once more.
To my immense shock, the phone was still unlocked and somehow unbroken. Carefully, I stood to my feet and read through the most recent chain of texts, the one that had likely caused Jungkook’s shift in mood.
Sock Jean: You’re thinking too much.
Sock Jean: She’s just a girl.
Sock Jean: Like any other girl you’ve been with.
Jungkook: You don’t get it, Jin…
Jungkook: She’s different.
Sock Jean: How?
Jungkook: I don’t know. She just is, alright?
Jungkook: I guess…she’s really kind. Like, to a fault. So taking advantage of someone like her…it feels really fucked up.
Jungkook: Her dad is really kind too. They’re really good people.
Sock Jean: No such thing as good people, JK. Just us and them. You gotta look out for yourself first.
Jungkook: Her dad thinks I’m a good guy…
Sock Jean: Then he’s an idiot just like his daughter.
Jungkook: She’s not an idiot, Seokjin.
Sock Jean: Listen, you’ve never had issues like this on any other job. Between how long you’re taking and this new moral crisis, I’m starting to think this one’s too much for you. Maybe we should think of a new approach.
Jungkook: No!
Jungkook: We don’t have to do that. I’ve already spent this much time.
Sock Jean: Is it about the time you’ve spent or is it about Y/N?
Jungkook: Jin…
Jungkook: Forget it. I’m fine. Just felt guilty for a minute. I’ll get past it.
Jungkook: Not like I have feelings for her or anything.
Sock Jean: Who are you trying to convince?
I stared at the chat log and my pulse thrummed in my ears. I understood now why Jungkook couldn’t thank Dad on his own. The guilt had to be eating away at him. I wasn’t certain, but it seemed meeting my dad had had a big impact on Jungkook.
And what’s more, all that talk about having feelings for me…
A blush rose in my cheeks and I shook my head, locking the phone and replacing it just where I’d found it on the floor. Silently, I began collecting bowls and utensils and carrying them to the kitchen to clean. But despite how busy my hands were, my mind was ten times busier.
And my heart raced like it was being chased.
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Night had fallen quickly and we’d all went our separate ways for bed. I sat atop my bed in the dark, holding the necklace Vante had given my in my cold hands. The moonlight made its way through my sheer curtains, catching in the ruby pendant. I ran a fingertip over its smooth surface and sighed, unable to rest my body because of my restless mind. I glanced up at the note he’d left in the velvet box.
Don’t think too much of this. Just hold on to it for a little while.
Sometimes having a powerful piece of jewelry makes us feel more powerful ourselves.
I want to give some power to you.
Had I had more power than I thought from the beginning? More than I even realized this morning? If that string of messages was anything to go by, Jungkook was weak to me. For how long, it was impossible to know. But the more I thought, the more evidence I could remember. All day he’d been affected by me, and even before, that night at his apartment…
But what good was this information if I didn’t use it?
Another — probably stupid and reckless — plan hatched in my brain. Quietly I stood to my feet and with one last look at the necklace, I set it aside on my dresser. With a deep breath, I gave my cheeks a bracing slap and nodded my head, turning on my heel and walking out into the chilly hallway.
Just across from my door was Jungkook’s. And inside…
An answer.
Quietly, I gave the thin wooden door a few knocks with my knuckles, hands shaking a little as I waited for an answer with bated breath. Part of me hoped he wouldn’t answer, hoped he was sleeping, hoped I could turn back to my room without knowing if I was right, without risking getting more attached than I was already.
Because I knew if he opened the door, it could never be a clean break.
For either of us.
Slowly, the hinges groaned and the door swung open, revealing a slightly disheveled, tired-eyed Jungkook. He scanned me and gave a pout. “What are you doing?” he asked.
I took a deep breath and remembered that necklace.
My strength.
I met his eyes and offered a smile. “I…guess I missed you,” I said.
His cheeks went pink once more and he laughed breathlessly. “Ah, um…I missed you too,” he said, eyes flitting over my face.
I glanced behind him at the dark room, the messy sheets. He’d been sleeping, hadn’t he? “Can I come in?” I asked, meeting his eyes again.
He stiffened. “Sure,” he said, leading the way into the bedroom.
I followed, but guilt gnawed at my stomach as he shut the door and I crawled beneath the covers. Without a word, he joined me, laying a respectable distance away from me. But in opening the door, he’d opened Pandora’s Box as well. I had something to confirm.
I wiggled closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting my head on his chest. I heard his heart thump quickly, a rapid cadence. It wasn’t an unfamiliar position, but lately there was a bashfulness between us that had never been there. Like we were just starting out again, but this time in earnest.
“You heard my dad talking…,” I said, thinking aloud.
Jungkook nodded, his fingers resting against the skin of my upper arm. “Yeah. It wasn’t intentional, but…,” he began, then sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said quietly, tracing shapes onto his firm chest.
“He…he mentioned your mom,” he said, clearly hedging. “How he used to look at her….” He paused and shook his head. “I-I shouldn’t ask about that.” He really shouldn’t…for a lot of reasons…
I nodded and pulled myself closer, flush against his side. “I never really explained it, did I?”
“Don’t,” he said, then paused, as if realizing what he said was strange.
I knew now what the kink in his armor was.
And I knew how to exploit it.
“I want to,” I said, then braced myself for what I was about to say next. “I trust you,” I said, low enough to keep my voice from shaking.
I felt him stiffen beneath me and simply stayed still. “I…,” he began, voice trailing into an exhale.
“When I was young, she was always around. Helping Dad with the crops, driving me around,” I said, then chuckled. I glanced around the dark room. “It’s weird to be here when there’s…nothing left of her.”
“Did she…?”
I shook my head. “She didn’t die, if that’s what you mean,” I said with a soft smile, laying my hand flat on his chest to feel his thumping heart beneath my fingertips. “She…she left.”
“What?” asked Jungkook, and I didn’t have to look to know his expression was animated with shock.
I chuckled. “It’s not so bad,” I said with a sigh. “Looking back, I don’t think this kind of life was enough for her anyway.” I stretched my legs a little, pressing my cold feet against his. “She was...cultured. When I was young, she used to take me to art museums in Seoul to look at the pieces. I was so mesmerized by it all, that even I started to...well, started to wonder if life out here was all there was.”
“How old were you?” he asked softly, gently running his fingers up and down my arm, like he was trying to comfort me.
“Around nine,” I said with a nod. The sadness I tried to keep at bay was beginning to surface, and I forced myself not to fight it. “I think…that’s why I’m like this.”
“Like what?” asked Jungkook, craning his neck to look at me.
“So desperate for people to like me,” I said, thinking of the right words. “So scared of being thrown away.”
Jungkook went rigid beside me and his grip on my arm tightened slightly. “Is that why you try so hard to do things for people?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “Never really analyzed it myself. But…if I had to hazard a guess I’d say yeah.”
“Your mom…to leave you behind, she must have been a moron,” he said.
I felt my cheeks warm at his words and buried my head in the crook of his shoulder, sighing. “Don’t say that.”
“Huh?”
“She was always so smart,” I said, thinking back. “When she left, she wrote me a note. No longer than a postcard. She said she was going to Seoul to pursue her dreams.”
“Is that…is that why you moved?” he asked.
I was quiet. This level of honesty was jarring. I didn’t know exactly how to maneuver within this vulnerable space. But for Vante’s sake…and for my own, I knew I had to do it.
Even if it wracked me with guilt.
“She always wanted to be an art curator. Even went to school for it. I hoped I could work hard and eventually find her when I’m successful and important. Like…cosmic revenge or something,” I said, laughing. “I’ve always liked art, but I wonder about it too. Would I have worked so hard to go to college if it weren’t for her trying to work in the same industry?” I shrugged. “I guess these sorts of things don’t have answers.”
“I…Y/N, I’m sorry,” he said softly, the moonlight making his skin glow silver.
I turned to meet his eyes. “What for?”
He shook his head and instead of responding, simply leaned close to me, guiding me to lay on my back as he hovered over me. Gently, he pressed closer, eyes shutting. On instinct, I shut my eyes too. But not before catching the dull red hue to his cheeks that I was beginning to become accustomed to. I waited for only half a second before he pressed his soft lips against mine. And like that, the tension between us finally snapped.
And it was…different than usual.
There was a tenderness to his movements, something warm and unhurried. He kissed me slowly, featherlight at first, and I felt like he was kissing me for the first time. He was almost shy, still passionate but somehow subdued like he didn’t want to do anything wrong. He pulled back only to tilt his head to the side and kiss me once more. There was no urgency, no desperation. Just warmth as his body pressed close to mine, one hand on my cheek angling my face toward his.
He pulled away once more but lingered close for a moment. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found his open as well. His brows were knitted, something like worry etched into his delicate features, and his eyes were heavy with an emotion I couldn’t name, warm as they moved slowly over my face.
And I knew in that expression alone that I was right.
The weakness in his impenetrable armor…was me.
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Ephemera Chapter Nine
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Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.
Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.
Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung
Word Count: 5.3k
Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung
Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently
A/N: Hello my dear readers! I hope you’re all doing well. I’m hella snowed in so I’m a little stir crazy, but I’ve been writing up a storm so that’s a good thing! Anyway, please take care of yourselves with this weather and be sure not to get sick :-( Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Ah, and links will be added later!
And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!
- Mercury
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My body was icy and not from the weather. I’d been caught. Red-handed, there was no excuse I could give to explain away that ID. If he had it, that meant he’d gotten it from the bouncer. He had to know everything now. I was thoroughly cooked. Summoning my courage, I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. Jungkook stared down at me with furrowed brows and the slightest of pouts. He looked genuinely upset. As if he had the nerve to be hurt by my dishonesty.
And with that expression alone, all the guilt I may have felt fled from my body more quickly than it had built and in its place came a thought so ridiculous it might work.
“My ID,” I said with a sigh, gripping my nose bridge.
He nodded. “Yeah. The guard at the club gave it to me to see if I knew you since you came in after me and ran out after starting a fight.”
I nodded, groaning as I rubbed my face, feigning innocence. “God, I’m so stupid.”
“Maybe a little,” said Jungkook, crossing his arms. I could feel some of his hostility melt and hazarded a glance his way. He was frowning at the ground, but the edginess from before was gone. “Wanna explain?” he asked without looking at me.
I sighed. “Yeah,” I said, then laced my hands in front of me and rolled the tip of my shoe into the floor. “If you’ll let me.”
He was quiet for a moment before exhaling long and slow and turning on his heel to fall on the couch. “I’ll listen,” he said quietly, arms crossed once more.
This man had the audacity to be disappointed. In me. Him! Disappointed in me!
I almost scoffed, but managed my expression as I shut the front door and came to sit beside him. Quietly, I took my ID from his outstretched hand, scanning his soft features before leaning back against the cushions. “I was out with a friend and I saw you walking,” I said.
Jungkook’s eyes went wide and he turned to look at me. He almost looked relieved. “What?” he asked.
I nodded and fought a satisfied grin. The ridiculous idea was to tell him half-truths, to lace reality into fiction. I knew I wasn’t as skilled a liar as he was, but if I could craft a plausible enough narrative, if I could convince him with soft sighs and tender touches…
I ran a hand through my hair and nodded, watching my lap. “Yeah. We were down by the Han River and I was pretty drunk. You and I had gotten into that weird argument about Vante the night before and I was just feeling…kind of insecure about our relationship,” I said, molding my words just so as they fell from my lips, intermingled with pensive sighs.
Jungkook groaned. “Y/N, why would you question our relationship? Haven’t I been a good boyfriend?” he asked.
I stiffened and glanced at him. Anger bubbled in my stomach. How crazy was it that a person is capable of loving and hating someone in equal measure? “Jungkook,” I began, brows lowering as I worked my jaw. “I’ve never even seen one of your films.”
He blinked at me, mouth hanging open like it was on loose hinges, and glanced away as if accessing months of memories in a split-second. “Shit…”
“Yeah,” I said, then shrugged. “Anyway…well, I know it’s stupid and I really shouldn’t have, but I followed you.”
“Alone?” he asked, stunned.
I shook my head. “With my friend.”
“This friend…,” he said, brows furrowed. “Is it the same one from the other day? With the clothes?”
I nodded. “He’s been there for me lately,” I said, then shrugged. “Anyway, he was looking after me since I’d been…having a hard time. I drank too much and got reckless. I gave the bouncer my ID after seeing you walk in as collateral in case I caused trouble,” I said. I shook my head, woeful. “Which I didn’t intend to do, but…well, then I saw you with a girl.”
Jungkook’s back went bolt upright and his eyes went round, cheeks violently red as he began raking his fingers through his soft hair. “Fuck,” he said.
“Not really the reaction I was expecting, but…,” I said with a humorless chuckle.
He turned to me and took my hands in his, eyes serious as he studied me. “Is that why you’ve been so weird lately? Like, distant?” he asked.
I shrugged, glancing away. It felt like playing a part, but the deceit was bothering me less and less. “Wouldn’t that put a damper on anyone’s relationship?” I asked, sighing. “She was kissing you and you didn’t seem to hate it so-,”
“Y/N, that wasn’t my idea,” he said, holding my hands tightly in his as he struggled to meet my eyes which I averted at every turn. “Seokjin was messing with me. I…listen, I can’t explain it all to you yet, but there’s a reason I had to go along with it, okay?”
My interest piqued. Was this a hint of honesty? It felt almost as if he was letting me in on a secret, like with the smallest push…
He might reveal something he knew he wasn’t supposed to.
I met his eyes, willing my own to gather tears by conjuring images of sad things: movie scenes that had touched me, stray dogs in cardboard boxes, children crying. Startled by my expression, his own went soft and worried, brows knitting as he reached a hand out to cup my cheek, leaning in close. I looked away, but he kept forcing his face into my line of vision, like he was checking on me.
“Y/N, please don’t cry. Please,” he said, voice a delicate whisper as his thumb drew circles into the skin of my cheeks. “Baby…”
I wiped the dry space beneath my eyes and shook my head. “I get it,” I said with a broken laugh. “I never understood why you were with someone like me to begin with-,”
“No!” he said, taking both my cheeks in his hands now and forcing me to look at him. “It’s not like that. You have to believe me, Y/N. I really, truly…,” he began, then shut his mouth and grunted, frustration clear in his expression, the little folds between his brows. “God, this sucks.”
I smiled and took his hands, guiding them from my face to rest on his lap before pulling away. “It’s alright,” I said, forcing a smile.
God, the words felt saccharine coming from my lips, falsehood that tasted acrid. It wasn’t alright. Not only was my pride bruised, but my feelings were deeply hurt. And if I wasn’t so mad at him, perhaps the tears I’d faked might’ve been real too.
He shook his head and met my eyes. “I have real feelings for you,” he said, voice so stern and strong it took me aback. He met my eyes without wavering. “I’m not supposed to, but I do.”
“Not supposed to?” I asked, but the act was hard to keep up, knowing what I knew.
He nodded. “And I never want to hurt you, okay? That girl at the club…I don’t even know her name and we didn’t do anything. Like I said, it was Jin. He was testing me. Trying to see if I really liked you.”
“And?”
“And for a few days it got him off my back,” he said, then shook his head and rubbed his jaw, trouble in his eyes. “It’s impossible to explain, but just know I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have to.”
“Really?” I asked, real vulnerability leaking into my voice.
He met my eyes and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, then smiled just a little. “Remember when I said I saw a girl who looked like you?”
I nodded. “Yeah…”
“You were wearing a white dress that night, right? With your hair all crazy and your makeup smudged,” he said, his smile widening as his eyes went far away.
I almost laughed. Had that small non-encounter really affected him so much? For someone so prone to lying, he sure was innocent. “It was a slip,” I said.
He stiffened. “A-a slip?” he asked. “Like lingerie?” his eyes were like saucers, a charming purity in them.
How disarming.
I chuckled. “Yeah. Figured they wouldn’t let me in dressed for work.”
“Probably not,” he said with a laugh, then shook his head. “Anyway, that’s the girl I was taking about.”
“My competition was me all along,” I said, but the words rang through the quiet apartment with alarming clarity.
He laughed. “Always has been,” he said, gently resting his palm against my neck and idly rubbing his fingers along my skin. “God, it kinda made my head spin. When you looked over your shoulder…”
“I was scared you’d recognize me,” I said, then shook my head with a laugh. “I’d also just gotten into a fight with a businessman.”
“Ah,” he said with a knowing smile. “I have to say, I didn’t really believe the bouncer when he said it was you, but that guy confirmed it too.”
I shrugged. “I was drunk.”
He hummed a little, taking my hand in his gently. “Do you know who the man was who you fell on?”
I shook my head. “Some dude on his night off?” I asked.
Jungkook laughed a little. “If only,” he said, then sighed. “He’s a corporate higher-up at Sanyo Industries.”
I stiffened and turned to him, stunned. “Like…the tech company?” I asked, grabbing my phone from my pocket. “The ones who manufacture, like, everyone’s phones?”
“Mhm,” he said, then wrapped his arm around my shoulders and guided me to lean against his side. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t cause you any trouble.”
Another crazy thought dawned on me and, with soft movements, I nuzzled into him and sighed, rising my head against his shoulder. “Why was he there anyway?” I asked.
Jungkook groaned. “It’s a work thing.”
“Work?” I asked, eyeing him from below. His eyes were shut, head lolled back like he was completely relaxed. Slowly, I slid my fingers along his leg to rest on thigh.
His eyes flashed opened and his cheeks went bright. He coughed a little. “U-Uh, yeah. I can’t say much about it, but…he was supposed to get us into this event for work. But he couldn’t get any extra invites.”
“Why did you need him for the event?” I asked.
He smiled. “God, you’re killing me,” he said, then glanced around the apartment, almost conspiratorially. He sighed and rubbed my arm. “Good thing Seokjin’s out,” he mumbled.
I gave his leg a squeeze and met his eyes. “Why can’t you get in on your own?”
“My job…Y/N, it’s not really as upright as I explained it to you,” he said, chagrin coloring even his neck.
I hummed. “So…you’re not from a temp company?”
He laughed. “I mean…kinda. Like…contracted work for companies, I guess,” he said, then waved his free hand with a sigh. “Anyway, point is our organization isn’t invited to the event, but reps from Sanyo are.”
“And they’d just…let you go with them? Shouldn’t there be a cost for that?” I asked.
He shook his head, groaning a little as his head fell to the side, revealing the smooth skin of his neck. “You’re asking really hard questions, baby.”
I had to go for the jugular.
“You can’t trust me?” I asked, leaning away a little, knitting my brows as I slid my hand off his leg onto the couch cushion.
He stiffened and turned to me with raised brows. “No! No, no it’s so not like that. I promise,” he said, worry clear in his face as he reached out to touch me. I cringed back.
“I feel like you’re keeping too much from me,” I said, testing him. “There’s a limit to how understanding I can be when you don’t tell me anything.”
He shook his head, genuine desperation in his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was scared to lose me as an asset or a girlfriend. Either way, I had the upper hand if only for a moment. He blinked at me, mouth agape, clearly torn.
One more nudge.
I sighed and stood slowly, pulling my bag up my shoulder. “It’s fine, Kook. I know there are things you probably don’t wanna tell me,” I said, leaning hard into the innocent, self-deprecating facade. Funny, only weeks ago the facade was real…
“Stop!” said Jungkook, rushing to grab my wrist with horror in his eyes. “Please, please don’t leave. Just…fuck, uh…alright, so it’s like this,” he began, guiding me to sit once more. Cautiously, I obliged. “When a company has a relationship with my organization, it goes both ways, right? Like, we’ve done things for them in the past. So they owe us,” he said, using his hands to illustrate nothing in particular. He sighed and shook his head. “No, it’s not really like that either. Uh, okay, so it’s like-,”
I stopped him by resting my palm against his cheek and offering a smile. “You don’t need to keep explaining,” I said. He’d already given me enough information.
So Sanyo and Jungkook’s organization had a prior relationship…
I wondered what for.
Surely, I’d already pressed enough for the day. There was nothing more Jungkook would — or could — reveal to me. So instead I simply leaned forward and touched his lips with mine, featherlight, before pulling away.
He looked slightly surprised and maybe a little winded, but instead of saying anything right away he simply nodded. “Alright,” he said with a sigh. “God…I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said.
And despite everything I wanted, needed, to believe, in his voice I could only find sincerity.
I slowly rifled through my bag and pulled out the envelope Taehyung had given me, turning back to Jungkook with a smile. “Well, since the other event fell through, how about coming with me to an event next Saturday?” I asked, holding out the envelope to him.
Jungkook took it gently and as he unfolded the invitation his eyes went so wide I worried they might pop right out. “What…?” he breathed.
I smiled. “That friend I’ve been spending time with lately, Taehyung? He’s Vante’s assistant. He pulled some strings and got me an invite,” I said, scanning his bewildered face. “He told me to bring a date.”
“T-Taehyung…,” he began, then shook his head. “That guy you were with the other day when you weren’t answering your phone?”
I nodded. “Yeah. And also the guy who followed you with me. And also the guy who loaned me the clothes,” I said, playing with my fingers. “He’s been a very good friend these days.”
Jungkook turned to me and suddenly he was deadly serious. “Y/N, do you know how hard it is to get this invitation?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Seems pretty exclusive, but Vante himself asked for it for me so…probably not too hard for someone like him,” I said, watching all the colors of emotion cross his face.
Ending on disbelief.
“Holy shit,” he said, holding the paper like it was a golden ticket.
And I realized, he was holding it that way because, to him, it was.
I scoffed. “Is…is this the event you were trying to attend?” I asked, poking the invitation as it sat on his knee. “For work?”
He nodded, eyes blank and a smile spreading slowly across his face. “Yeah,” he said, laughing lightly. “Y/N, are you an angel?” he asked, turning to me with a dopey grin.
I laughed. “If you wanna thank anyone, thank Taehyung,” I said.
He shook his head and stared at the invitation once more before grabbing my hand and kissing it over and over. Even though I hated it, the gesture made me giggle and I struggled to pry my hand away. But he was determined, holding it tight until he glimpsed something and his brows furrowed, eyes going harder and jaw clenching.
Quickly, he stopped his kissing and turned my hand over, staring at my palm with a frown. There was something genuine in his expression, and more so something displeased. Maybe even a little frustrated. And as he stared, I remembered what was on that hand.
Taehyung’s number and his doodle.
Quickly, I pulled my hand away like I’d been caught doing something wrong and chuckled. “Ah, yeah. It’s Taehyung. We never exchanged contact information that day, so he wanted to do it now since there are still things to prepare before the event.”
Jungkook pouted. “You let him hold your hand?” he asked.
Was he…jealous?
Startled, I turned to him and tried to meet his eyes but he kept looking away any time I got close. Like a petulant kid. Huh. After months of receiving extravagant gifts from another man, his jealousy was finally engaged…by a doodle?
Or…were his feelings finally real enough to warrant jealousy?
I couldn’t help but laugh. It started quiet at first, but then grew into a full-blown giggle fit that I had to hide behind my hands, shaking my head as he turned to look at me with a pout. “I’m sorry,” I said between gasps. “It’s just…Jungkook, why are you getting possessive all of a sudden?”
He crossed his arms and handed the invitation back to me. “Forget it,” he said, glancing away. “And forget the event. I don’t wanna go anymore.”
I stiffened. Was his jealousy truly so bad that he’d give up an opportunity to move forward with this job? He’d forfeit a chance to gain information on Vante? Taken aback, I gaped at him. Surely, he didn’t mean it. But the way he set his jaw let me know that indeed he had been deathly serious.
“Jungkook,” I chided, taking his arm.
He shook his head, but didn’t pull away, simply sitting there pouting. “What?” he asked.
I swallowed hard and managed my expression, careful not to laugh again. “I don’t have feelings for Taehyung,” I said, and it was true.
Sure, he was handsome and kind and everything I might’ve thought I wanted a lifetime ago, but my feelings were far too muddled to find true north. Who was to say I’d never develop feelings for him? I couldn’t promise that. But as it stood right then, I knew who my heart still raced for.
And, as much as I might’ve wished it did, it wasn’t for Taehyung.
He eyed me sidelong before huffing and turning to face me properly. “I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh as he rested his forehead on my shoulder. Gently, I patted his back. “I’m just…I dunno, lately I think the thing that scares me most is losing you.”
I stiffened. I knew I shouldn’t push any further, and that asking another prying question might tip him off to my intentions, but I couldn’t help myself. “Why?” I asked.
He chuckled, arms snaking around my waist. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, leaning away so he could pull me over his lap, straddling him.
My cheeks flamed. He smiled up at me, nothing but fondness in his gaze, and I had the brief and horrible thought that if it meant he looked at me that way, I wouldn’t mind being fooled by him again. Quickly, I banished the thought and rested my palms on his chest.
“It’s not,” I said quietly.
He laughed and leaned up to kiss me. There was something new in the way he moved, something more heated. Grasping, perhaps. Like each time I broke away to catch my breath the distance was too much. As his lips moved over mine, so did his hands over my body. Smoothing over my sides, resting on my lower back, guiding my arms to hook around the back of his neck. His breath came faster now, and as he pulled back his exhales were hot on my skin before he pressed warm lips to my neck. I shivered and my fingers dug into his shoulders before he finally stopped moving and simply stared up at me.
“Are you gonna answer?” I asked, voice frustratingly meek.
He smiled, pushing my hair behind my ear. “You’re really gonna make me say it?” he asked with a chuckle. I said nothing, only furrowed my brow and stared at him. He sighed, resting his hands on my hips. “It’s because I love you.”
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“I love you,” I repeated, staring blankly at the wall of pet enclosures. Nara was busy sweeping the floor, collecting fallen alfalfa, and sighed as she rested her chin atop her broom. “He said I love you.”
Nara pinched her nose bridge and nodded. “Yes, Y/N. You’ve told me…several times,” she said with a small chuckle. She sauntered toward me and raised her brows. “The question is: do you believe him?”
I stiffened, sitting on one of the stools the pet shop kept behind the counter, and blinked at a hamster as it spun around and around on its wheel. “I…,” I began, furrowing my brow. I shook my head and huffed, pushing up to stand in front of her. “It’s not that easy.”
She laughed, flicking my forehead with a manicured finger. “It is though,” she said. “Either he meant it or he didn’t.”
I worked my lower lip between my teeth and wrung my hands. “I…can’t tell.”
She smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “Then don’t let it get to you,” she said. “You’ve been doing pretty well the past few days about not getting sucked in. You shouldn’t get shaken up.” She leaned away and continued her sweeping with a hum. “For all we know, he’s just doing this to keep you on the hook.”
She was right. I couldn’t know for sure whether or not he was just stringing me along, or whether he knew I was getting suspicious. But still, the stubborn and foolish part of me held a steadfast belief in that sincere look in his eye. Why else would he have confided in me about his job or Seokjin or his relationship with Sanyo?
Unless he was trying to rebuild my trust in him…
I sighed and shrugged, wandering around to the back of the narrow store, lingering behind the register with a frown. Nara continued sweeping, whistling a nameless tune as she worked. Few customers had been in since I’d arrived a half hour prior, and Nara said it had been that way all day. She mentioned that not many people visited pet shops anymore unless they were looking to buy animals. Most of the shop’s wares could be found easily online.
But nonetheless, the little bell over the front door dinged, signaling the entrance of a possible customer. And, to my surprise, it was the same man from the last time I’d been there. Yoongi…
He pulled his black hood down, pulling with it a pair of expensive wireless headphones. The headphones rested neatly against his pale collarbone as he perused the shop for a while. From the way he walked, awkwardly leaning down here and there to look at the animals only to stand up straight again after a few seconds, let me know he wasn’t entirely comfortable.
I smirked and leaned back, watching as Nara approached with a grin. “Hey there, stranger,” she said with a laugh. “You stalking me now?”
Yoongi stiffened and his dark eyes went wide. “No,” he said, then cleared his throat and crossed his arms, watching the linoleum floor. “I don’t have a lot of time off.”
Nara hummed and nodded. “What kind of work do you do?”
Was I crazy or did that gloomy Yoongi guy crack a smile? “The kind of work that doesn’t give me a lot of time off.”
Nara pouted and sighed. “Sorry for prying,” she said, still holding her broom close as she rested her cheek against it. “Just been a slow day.”
Yoongi’s eyes flashed toward her and he worked his jaw a little before finally responding. “Are…uh, are you bored?”
Nara nodded, shutting her eyes with a pout. “So bored I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Hey, I’m here too,” I said, waving a hand.
She laughed, turning to me with that bright smile. “You don’t count, Y/N.”
Yoongi stiffened. “Y/N?” he asked, turning to meet my eyes.
I smiled and waved. “That’s me,” I said, tilting my head to the side as a strange thought occurred to me. “Do you know me?”
He swallowed hard, his features still screwed up in surprise, and shook his head. “Uh, no. Not at all,” he said, grabbing a cat toy from the shelf and wandering toward me. “Just a name I recognize.”
That strange thought settled icily in the back of my mind and I offered a tight-lipped smile as he slid the toy across the counter toward me. “And your name is Yoongi?” I asked, to which his eyes went wide and his posture stiffened. I nodded. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”
He swallowed again and, before he could say anything in response, Nara was beside me, scanning his item and shoving it in a paper bag. Not noticing the tension between us, Nara continued making idle conversation, mostly with herself.
“Ah, first the bowl, then the food, now a toy? Are you sure you don’t care about this stray?” teased Nara as she printed the receipt.
Yoongi flushed and took the bag from her outstretched hand. “I-I’m just taking care of it until I can find it a proper home,” he mumbled, yanking his headphones back up against his ears and waving over his shoulder.
Nara giggled as his back receded, eventually disappearing down the busy street, and sighed. “He’s kinda cute, huh?”
I wanted to tell her to be wary of him, that I was suspicious he was somehow involved with this Jungkook mess, but the way her smile seemed to melt into her face and the soft fondness in her eyes rendered me mute. Instead I simply forced a smile and nodded, the two of us standing side-by-side in the empty shop as the world spun in circles before us.
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I collapsed against my bed with a thump, kicking my shoes off with a clatter. In the corner, I caught sight of the old black evening dress I had set out to wear tomorrow. It had been years since I’d bought a nice dress, and that one I’d only purchased on the off chance I’d need to attend any company parties. Looming there like a dark omen, it reminded me of what I had agreed to do. With a sigh, I rolled onto my stomach. Class had been a drag, and work even more so. Despite doing everything in my power not to think about Jungkook’s confession, it weight heavily on my mind for the past week as I struggled to power through my responsibilities. It was useless to ponder his intentions. In the end, the only one who could ever know his sincerity was him and I couldn’t very well ask him if he’d meant it.
So instead I stewed over it quietly.
I was about to fall into the hopeless cycle of trying and failing over and over again to figure out Jungkook’s intentions when my phone dinged in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the name lighting up my screen.
Taehyung Van Gogh: What’re you up to?
I smiled at my phone and mused over how to respond. Would it be right to trouble him with my worries? Instead of thinking too hard, I simply typed. Quickly, I engaged in a rapid-fire exchange of texts with him.
Y/N: Plotting world domination. And you?
Taehyung Van Gogh: Funny, I was doing the same.
Taehyung Van Gogh: How are you feeling? The event’s tomorrow night…
Taehyung Van Gogh: Are you feet feeling unusually cold?
Y/N: My feet are toasty warm, Sir. I’m not backing out now.
Taehyung Van Gogh: That’s good to hear. Say, could I call you?
Y/N: Sure just give me-
I was in the middle of drafting my response when my phone began buzzing wildly in my hand. I jumped a little, sitting upright and sending my phone skittering across the floor. Scrambling to answer it in time, I fell to my knees and took the call. I breathlessly pressed the receiver to my ear.
“H-Hello?” I asked, eyes wide as I sat on my chilly floor in my work clothes.
Taehyung laughed. “Bad time?” he asked, deep voice rumbling through the phone.
I felt myself flush and cleared my throat. “Nope. I’m good,” I said, to which he only laughed. As much as I hated to admit it, perhaps Taehyung’s nunchi was better than mine after all…
“That’s good to hear,” he said, humming slightly as the two of us fell into a comfortable, albeit odd silence.
I leaned back against my bed and pulled my knees close. “Um…what did you wanna talk to me about?”
He chuckled. “I wanted to hear your reaction.”
“My reaction to what?” I asked.
“Didn’t you get a package?” he asked, sounding perplexed.
I stood to my feet, brows furrowed, and padded with bare feet out into the living room. “Did I?” I wondered aloud.
Taehyung laughed. “Why don’t you go check?”
I nodded and pried open my front door, sweeping my gaze across the hallway before glancing down. Sure enough, at my feet beside the welcome mat was a large cardboard box addressed to me. I hoisted it up on my hip but it was remarkably heavy. Maneuvering my phone between my shoulder and cheek, I struggled to get a better hold of the package and grunted as I kicked the door shut behind me.
“Jesus,” I exhaled, setting the thing down with a thump on my coffee table, careful not to disturb the plants. I sighed and rested a hand on my hip, staring down at the box. “What’s this?” I asked.
He laughed. “Open it and see,” he probed, a mischievous excitement in his voice.
I sighed and grabbed a pair of scissors before falling onto the couch. I wrenched the scissors beneath the cardboard flap and laughed. “Taehyung, how did you even get my address?”
“It’s in the company database,” he said, voice rushed like he was too excited to pause even a moment between words. “Are you opening it?”
With another laugh I nodded. “Mhm,” I said, pulling the package open and gaping at its contents. My hand went limp, scissors falling to the floor, unable to formulate even a single coherent thought. “Taehyung…”
He giggled. “Yeah?”
“What the hell is all this?” I asked, voice barely above a breath.
Taehyung’s voice was like bells on the other side of the phone, laughter bright and wholesome. But my heart was racing. “If you’re gonna get revenge, you may as well go all the way,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Make him regret ever treating you like you were disposable.”
I stiffened, running my fingers along the delicate lining. “This is…it’s too much,” I said, but my voice was weak.
Because when I looked at that dress, my confusing thoughts seemed to evaporate like water on pavement. As I stared down at the gorgeous, intricate, expensive champagne-colored dress all I could see was myself in it, entering the ballroom with a smile. I could see me descending the stairs, the embroidery glittering in the yellow lights, the v-neck bust line showing just enough of my collarbone to reveal that beautiful, ruby pendant shining against my skin.
All I could see was me, commanding the room.
And Jungkook, in awe.
With a scoff, I eased back against my couch. Taehyung spoke before I could. “Well? Isn’t it beautiful?”
I nodded, a smile spreading across my face. “Let’s do this,” I said, unable to contain my grin. Because, like the necklace, just looking at that dress made me feel powerful
And that feeling was quickly becoming intoxicating.
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Ephemera Chapter Six
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Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.
Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.
Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung
Word Count: 7.8k
Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung
Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently
A/N: Woohoo new chapter!! We’re inching closer to the truth. I hope you guys are enjoying the story! As always, thank you so much for your support and all the kind, encouraging words you send my way. Ah! And of course, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask with feedback, critique, commentary, theories, questions, anything! I love talking to you guys and will respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them. I hope you guys are doing well! And I will add links later! For now, please just check my masterlist for previous chapters~
And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!
- Mercury
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I shook my head and tromped forward, head spinning either from rage or alcohol. It was hard to tell the difference. My heels clacked against the concrete floor and I approached the metal spiral staircase with my hands balled into fists, brow set low. Before I could take even the first step, Taehyung had a firm hold of my forearm and turned me around to face him. But I didn’t let him say a word, simply shook my arm free and struggled toward the staircase again.
He was more stubborn than he appeared, and this time instead of reaching for my arm he simply grabbed my waist and held me back from behind. I might have blushed, might have been stunned into stillness, had it not been for Jeon Jungkook. But knowing he was up there, living it up with some girl who not only wasn’t me, but was objectively prettier than me, made my insides flame.
Livid didn’t even begin to describe it.
“Stop it!” begged Taehyung in my ear.
I thrashed against him and shook my head. “No!” I shouted, rousing the attention of a few men lingering at a tall table beside the stairs. “I’m going up and I’m telling him to kiss my ass!” I said, loudly enough for the words to echo above the music. “Or maybe I’ll kick his ass instead!”
“Please,” whined Taehyung, holding me tightly against his front.
I grunted and grabbed his forearms, trying to pry them off of me. “No!”
“What’s going on over here?” asked a deep voice from in front of me, right in front of the stairs.
I swallowed hard and stopped moving, lifting only my eyes to meet whoever had spoken. My heart raced, fearing the worst. What if it was Seokjin, down to check on the commotion? Or worse, what if it was Jungkook?
My powerful entrance! Ruined!
But relief flooded through me as I glimpsed a wholly unfamiliar and a wholly unremarkable face. One of the men from the nearby table. Hooded, dark eyes, a slightly crooked nose, lips set in a thin line. The man was maybe in his late-twenties, his face screwed up in a cringe as if he’d just eaten something sour. The perfect seams of his impeccable suit jacket folded slightly as he crossed his arms.
His scrutinizing eyes flashed from me to Taehyung. “What are you trying to do to this woman?” he asked.
I stiffened and craned my neck to look at Taehyung too. “Huh?” I asked.
His cheeks were flushed as he quickly released my waist, drying his hands on his thighs. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “I apologize for interrupting your evening.”
The man wasn’t quite satisfied however. He furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. “Shouldn’t be so grabby with a girl you don’t know.”
“But we do-,” began Taehyung.
The man cocked a brow. “Let me ask her,” he said, eyeing me.
“Ask me what?” I asked, glancing over the man’s shoulder to scan the staircase leading to destiny.
“Do you know this man?” he asked.
“Huh? Yeah,” I said, distracted.
He sighed. “Did you put something in her drink?” he asked, terse.
Taehyung stammered a response. “Wh-I-No! I’d never do something like that. Plus, we didn’t even get around to drinking yet.”
“I’m gonna call her a cab-,” he began, but at that something in my brain snapped and I turned to him with wide eyes.
“No!” I shouted, pointing at him. “And for the record, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just trying to keep me from doing something stupid which, if you’ll excuse me, I’d going to do now,” I said, gesturing to the spiral staircase.
“Y/N, don’t!” called Taehyung as I tried to sidestep the man.
This time, it was the stranger who seized me. “You don’t wanna go up there, young lady,” he said, tone stern.
Was he a bodyguard or something? I pouted at him. “I’ve got something I need to do up there.”
“Not this drunk,” he said, taking a look at Taehyung as if he still didn’t believe him.
I shook him off. “I’m telling you, leave him alone! He didn’t do anything. He’s my friend,” I said, sighing. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’m not in trouble.”
“How are you supposed to know if you’re in trouble or not?” he asked, raising his brows at me.
I scoffed. “First I’m some vixen whose shoulders are too distracting for the workplace, and next I’m a kid who can’t even take care of myself?” I asked nobody in particular. The music was loud, bumping into my skull. If I didn’t have a lying scumbag to kill, I’d have left that stupid club right then. “Listen to me, okay? Listen. This man is not trying to take advantage of me.”
But the man was too busy locking gazes with Taehyung. What kind of savior complex was this? Just how desperate was this man to make me a damsel in distress? “Why are you looking at her like that?” he asked.
I gaped. “Did you even hear me?” I asked, waving my hand in front of his face.
He shooed it away and took a step towards Taehyung who was by then entirely bewildered. “I’m making sure this girl gets home,” he said with a serious nod.
I groaned and turned back toward the stairs. I chewed on my lower lip, glancing around at the scene before me. To the right were several other businessmen, looking on with smirks as they sipped their drinks. To the left, the dance floor. The stranger had released my arm and let me go, as his attention was now steadfastly adhered to Taehyung. And poor Taehyung…
Well, he couldn’t so much as look my way without incurring this man’s rage.
Quickly, I took one step toward the staircase, reaching my fingers out toward the cool metal railing. Another step. Then another, each one testing the boundaries. The stranger and Taehyung had begun bickering once more, making it easier to creep into the shadows. Before either of them could stop me, I took the first step with a distinctive metallic clang.
As if the club were on fire and I was holding the match, everyone in the vicinity turned to look at me. I paused for only the briefest of seconds to lock eyes with the stranger before rushing up the next few steps.
“Stop!!” he shouted after me, but it wasn’t until I was halfway up the spiral stairs that I paused to ask myself what the hell I was doing.
Sixth step: Wait…what am I gonna do when I get up there?
Seventh step, more slowly: Am I just gonna reveal that I know everything? And then what?
Eighth step, even slower: Isn’t it too soon to show my hand?
Ninth step, pausing with my hand on the railing, eyes traveling to the middle distance: Come to think of it, I’m kind of at an advantage here, right? I know his secrets, but he doesn’t know I know.
Tenth step, reluctantly: If he finds out…won’t he run?
I came to a stop on the tenth step, crossing my arms and furrowing my brow. Just a few more steps and I’d be right across from the bastard. I’d have my chance to throw some hands, maybe even land a punch or two. He was stronger, but I had the element of surprise. My revenge could be quick and painful. A swift kick to the groin in my pumps and I could leave this place, leaving Jungkook behind with it. I could wipe my hands of everything…
But what about Vante? Didn’t I owe it to him to investigate more?
No. Taehyung knew now. And I knew there wasn’t much more I could find on my own anyway. Not with how attached I still was to the kid.
Then…why did the idea of cutting ties with Jungkook make me stop in my tracks?
“Stop running!” called the stranger from a few steps below me, reaching out to clumsily grab my wrist.
“Don’t hurt her!” called Taehyung from the third step.
His hand couldn’t quite reach, and he ended up yanking the hem of my slip. I yelped, surprised, and leaned down to swat his hand away, but as I did the tender part of my ankle slammed up against the back of my pumps. With an audible hiss, I bent down to fix it. The man grabbed for me again, this time finding purchase on my shoulder and yanking hard enough to knock me off my feet.
Screaming, I tumbled down the stairs, cushioned at first my the stranger and then by the stranger and Taehyung. The three of us landed in a heap at the base of the staircase with a clatter. All of us sustained some level of injury, not the least of which belonged to Taehyung as he groaned at the bottom of the pile. I might’ve laughed at the scene if my knee wasn’t bent all funky and the skin of my palm hadn’t peeled up from the impact.
“What the hell?!” shouted the stranger. By then, the sounds of commotion had amassed a crowd, and most of the dance floor had cleared to surround us. He stood up and dusted himself off, offering me a hand which I smacked with a scowl. “What the hell’s your problem?”
I coughed a little and turned to Taehyung as he lay on the dirty cement floor. I placed my hands on his shoulders and guided him upright. Seemed like he got the wind knocked out of him based on the dazed look in his eye and the heaving of his chest. I frowned and touched the frame of his glasses. They were bent irreparably, probably skirting much of the impact as he fell on his side.
“Are you okay?” I asked carefully, scanning him from top to bottom.
He groaned a little and rubbed his head. “Uh…yeah. I’m fine,” he said slowly, glancing around. With shifting eyes, he leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, “This is a scene. We should go before Jungkook comes down.”
I stiffened and looked around at the large crowd. With a forced smile I nodded at them. “We’re fine! Just took a tumble. Ha,” I said, waving and bowing my head. But it did little to sate their curiosity.
So, without thinking, I jumped to my feet, yanking Taehyung along with me as he coughed. Struggling, I managed to part the crowd, holding tightly to Taehyung’s warm hand. The two of us pushed past wondering onlookers until we’d managed to escape the thick of it and enter the fray. But before I could take a breath, I heard someone shouting from inside the crowd.
“Hey! Come back here! My jacket is ripped!” screamed a distinctive, low voice that I recognized from before.
That man. I stiffened and locked eyes with Taehyung who by then had lost all the color in his face. “Shit,” he said under his breath, barely audible over the music.
“Someone needs to pay for this immediately!” he shouted, the voice getting closer. I watched the crowd jostle slightly in a straight line, like someone was struggling to escape.
“Let’s go!” called Taehyung, holding my hand tighter and sprinting for the front doors.
I hoisted my bag up my shoulder and sprinted beside Taehyung despite the way both my knee and my twisted ankle screamed in protest. Taehyung led the charge, shoving through throngs of people who gathered in smaller groups to talk or dance. I spared one glance over my shoulder, intending to check if that strange man was following us, but instead I locked eyes with someone else.
Jungkook.
For a surreal millisecond, we exchanged a glance, charged with energy but fleeting. I was sure he wouldn’t recognize me anyway, but the way he stood by the edge of the mezzanine, holding on to the banister with an earnest grin as he watched the chaos unfold, told me he wouldn’t forget the girl in the white silk slip.
Hopefully he’d never find out that girl was me.
Quickly, I turned back around to face the entrance and pushed on beside Taehyung, desperate to keep from slowing him down. “Why can’t we just pay him?” I asked through pants as we burst through the front doors and into the dark night.
“Don’t have that kind of cash on me,” he said, sparing no time for superfluous words. “Can’t use my checkbook.”
“Why?” I asked as we passed the guards.
“Wait!” called one, but neither Taehyung nor I stopped. We simply kept running and running.
The night air was freezing against my sensitive skin. We passed the crate where I kept my skirt and jacket and, despite letting my gaze linger and hoping Taehyung might make a quick stop for them, we continued down the street. Without Jungkook’s guidance, we slipped in and out of surveillance camera fields. Only when the clamor of the club was too far away to remember did the two of us slow to a jog and then a walk and then a breathless pause.
I released his hand to brace it against my knee, bent at the waist to catch my breath and eyes squeezed shut with fatigue. “Where-,” I began, stopping to breathe, “are we going?”
Taehyung shook his head and removed his glasses. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, squinting around the dark street.
Suddenly, the reality of where we wee dawned on me. In the middle of a seedy clubbing district, trapped inside a maze of weaving alleyways and dangerous side streets. I straightened up and looked at Taehyung with upturned brows.
“W-We can go to my place. I live…in Hongdae…,” I said, thinking geographically. I was sobering up, but was nowhere near sober. My brain worked extra hard to try and conjure an image of where my apartment was situated in the university neighborhood. “Not close…”
Taehyung shook his head. “My place,” he said, pulling his phone from the depths of his jacket pocket and giving it a narrow-eyed scan.
“Oh, no! It’s fine, really. Please don’t worry. I can get home on my own just fine and-,”
“I’ll call someone to give us a ride,” he said abruptly, placing the phone against his ear.
“A driver?” I asked, halfway joking.
He eyed me. “Yeah?”
At his blasé tone, I stiffened and cleared my throat, nodding. “Right, yeah. Of course.”
Distantly, I heard Taehyung’s voice speaking in low tones, probably on the phone. I watched my bare legs as they buckled from the cold, my teeth chattering audibly in my ears. Quietly, I wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my upper arms in the hopes of conserving some of my body heat. But it was no use. The air was like sandpaper against my skin and I was more goosebumps than girl as I hovered near the edge of the sidewalk, watching an old sedan clunk by with a broken fender dragging on the asphalt.
I sniffled a little and rubbed my red nose with the back of my hand. As I returned to my previous position of hugging myself, I felt something warm and heavy slip over my shoulders. Jumping, I turned to see Taehyung examining his glasses, now jacket-less. Carefully, I touched the heavy coat draped over me with a soft smile. It smelled like he did. Somehow, that was comforting. Was I still too drunk?
“I’m sorry, Taehyung,” I said, voice a whisper in the night.
His eyes went wide and he turned to look at me, barely illuminated by the streetlight. “What for?”
I shook my head and smiled. “For this whole night,” I said with a laugh. “For dragging you out drinking with me, for being so much trouble.”
Taehyung was quiet for a long moment, as if chewing on my words. When he did speak, I felt myself ease into his jacket a little more. “You weren’t trouble,” he said, then laughed a little. “You were…advocating for yourself. It was kind of refreshing to see you be so bold.”
I flushed and pulled the jacket closer around my shoulders. “Bold or reckless?” I asked with a sigh. The alcohol had started to leave with the adrenaline, and now I was left with only lightheadedness and shame. “I got you hurt.”
“I’m fine,” he said with a smile.
I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have had so much to drink. I know how I get when I drink.”
Taehyung sighed and gave my shoulder a pat. “You’ve had a hard few days.”
“It’s not an excuse to be an asshole,” I said with a nod. Gently, I shook his hand off. “I’ll make it up to you, Taehyung. I promise you that.”
“It’s really not-,”
“Don’t say it’s not a big deal,” I said, turning to look him square in the eye.
He closed his mouth with a sigh and nodded, rubbing his forehead. “Then…let’s say you owe me a favor now, okay?”
I stiffened. “Just one favor? That’s not enough.”
He smiled and shook his head. “You don’t know what favor I’ll ask for yet.”
I blinked at him, puzzled at the mischievous look in his eye. But before I could question it, he took a step closer to me and leaned against my side. The heat from his tall frame helped warm me slightly, but the shock of it caused me to jump. Perhaps I was still on edge from the altercation or perhaps it was something else, but Taehyung noticed and gave a little cough, cheeks tinged pink.
“I’m a little cold. That’s all,” he said, avoiding my eyes as he placed his broken glasses back on his nose.
I stiffened and immediately moved to slip out of his long jacket. He startled and grabbed my hands very gently, seizing my motion. But even the soft touch of his fingers against my bleeding palm made me hiss in pain, eyes squeezing shut.
“Don’t-,” he began, stopping short when he noticed my expression. He released my hands and stared at me, wide-eyed in the harsh streetlight. “Wait, are you hurt?”
I held my hand close to my chest, noticing the splotches of blood that sat scattered across my slip, and shook my head, locking my jaw. “Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m fine!” I turned to him with a smile.
He sighed and crossed his arms, staring down at me with what could only be disappointment. “Y/N,” he said. And for the briefest of moments he reminded me of my dad.
I glanced down at the cracked pavement, the place where the tip of my shoe touched the cement. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve had worse spills,” I said, nodding.
Before Taehyung could scold me more, I heard the soft hum of a car coming to a rolling stop before us and glanced up to see a sleek black sedan idling beside the curb. Taehyung approached it and opened the back seat door, ushering me inside with a wave of his hand. Without saying a word, I hopped inside and buckled up, scanning the cab of the car. It was nice. Nicer than I would have figured for an artist’s assistant. But for all I knew, Taehyung was paid lavishly for not only his silence, but his expertise. He’d helped me with my painting before after all.
I sighed and tried not to think about it. The high of adrenaline was wearing off, and the alcoholic buzz was all but gone. All I knew was the car was warm and the driver didn’t say a word and Taehyung was beside me and I could trust him.
Right?
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We stopped in the multi-level parking garage around the back of a very swanky apartment complex. The place was, from the outside, as luxurious as you could get in the heart of the city. With a view of the Han River and doormen at every entrance and exit, the gold-gilded building was one I passed nearly daily on my commute to work. It’s one of those places you look at while resting your head against the bus window and wonder what life was like there. To be able to afford someplace like that…
I didn’t try to reason out just how Taehyung could.
The driver saw us off with a nod before rolling up his tinted window and driving back the way he came, leaving Taehyung and me standing alone in the middle of a grey parking garage. Taehyung cleared his throat and gestured with a swoop of his arm toward the elevator behind him. Wordlessly I followed and watched in silent awe as he produced a slim card, sliding it into the slot by the call button. Seemed the place was awfully secure. I could understand why Taehyung suggested we come to such a place. I might’ve inquired about living here if it weren’t for my mortification. The alcohol had fled my system, leaving behind only the grim reality of all that I’d done while under its influence.
Quietly, we boarded the large elevator, standing side-by-side.
“I’ve lived here since I moved to Seoul,” said Taehyung, although I hadn’t asked.
I peered up at him and smiled. “When did you move?” I asked.
He pursed his lips and thought. “When I was…just shy of eighteen I think?” he said, nodding.
I gaped. “What?”
He chuckled and poked my cheek. “Don’t make that face. I was a determined kid.”
I shook my head. “No, but…your family? They were okay with that?” I asked.
He shrugged and smiled at his hands. “They’re really supportive. They knew I had things I wanted to do that I couldn’t do in Daegu.”
I hummed. “Man…my dad scolded my ear off when I told him I wanted to move to Seoul for college,” I said with a laugh, reminiscing. “I can’t tell you how many conversations we had about never walking alone at night, never getting into a cab with a stranger, never going to clubs.”
“Clearly you took them to heart,” said Taehyung.
I turned to him with wide, worried eyes but when I noticed the smile on his face I realized he was only teasing and I relaxed. “He’d be so disappointed if he knew what I did tonight,” I said, then laughed grimly. “Hell, if he knew what I’ve been doing these past few weeks.”
Taehyung nodded. “When I left home, my parents were pretty worried. But…I think because they trusted me so much I wanted to make sure I lived the kind of life they’d be proud of.”
I smiled, but in the reflection cast off the chrome elevator door I saw that it didn’t touch my eyes. “I’m sure they’re proud of you, Taehyung,” I said with a nod.
“I know they are,” he said, then glanced at me. “Wanna know how I know?”
I met his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
He smiled softly and gently rubbed his thumb against my cheek, removing some dirt from my skin. “They told me before I left that as long as I was living the way I wanted, they’d know I was successful,” he said, watching the elevator doors part. “I know they’re proud of me because I’m proud of me.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and watched my shoes for a moment, trying not to let him see me cracking, before composing myself and following Taehyung into the hallway. He led me down the corridor and paused in front of a massive door. Quietly, he punched in a few numbers and slid his card and the door yielded to him.
“You can rest anywhere. I’m gonna get my first aid kit and some clothes for you before calling you a cab,” he said, tossing his keys on the kitchen countertop as he flicked on the lights.
“Wow…,” I breathed as I looked around me.
The place was gorgeous. Sleek white floors, marble countertops, gold accents everywhere. Massive windows adorned the back wall, overlooking the city and the river below, pinpricks of light blinking against the inky blackness. The place sprawled in every direction, and on every wall was beautiful art. I had to look twice at a vintage Jean-Michel print near the curved television screen in the open living room. I gaped. Those prints sold for thousands of dollars these days…
“Benefits of the job,” said Taehyung from behind me, laughing as I gasped in surprise. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
I turned around to look at him and hated myself for the suspicion gripping my heart. Just what sort of business was he involved in to be so affluent? And if he made this much money… “Why are you taking classes?” I asked.
His eyes widened, now unobscured by his glasses, and he blinked a few times with his mouth agape before answering. “Ah, well…when I first moved I had no intention of going to school. That’s why I’m still an undergraduate at twenty-three.”
I nodded as he led the way to his plush white couch. “So you started school late?” I asked.
He smiled and nodded, opening his kit and grabbing a few bandaids and some antibacterial salve. “Mhm. By the time my career started taking off, I was already on my way to twenty. For a little while, I considered never getting my education. But I realized after a while that it might be worth it to get some new perspectives,” he said with a nod.
I hummed in response as he turned my hand over on his knee, examining my palm. “It’s rewarding for you, then?”
He smiled as he began cleaning out the wound. “Mhm,” he said. “To be honest…well, you kind of inspired me to go get my degree.”
I stiffened. “Huh?”
He turned wide eyes to me, as if he was surprised himself by what he’d said. “No! It’s not weird,” he said, shaking his head with a flush. “Just…seeing you living so diligently made me wonder if I was just being lazy by not going to school. Like…even with a demanding job you’re still so serious about your coursework. I was around a lot when you stayed late so…”
I felt my skin flush and glanced at the polished, pristine white floor. “I…I don’t know if I’m that diligent or anything. Just…I guess just trying to prove to myself that I did the right thing moving here.”
“Yeah?” he asked, applying the salve gently with a soft fingertip, amber eyes focused on my skin.
“Did you ever feel that way? Like…like you had something to prove?” I asked, thinking back. It’s not like my dad and I were on bad terms. Not at all. I just hated to worry him. And these days, it felt like I did exclusively the sort of things that would have the corners of his mouth turned down in that quintessential frown that I hated the most.
He nodded, chuckling as he pressed a piece of cotton to my sensitive palm. “Oh yeah,” he said with a smile. “Every day in the beginning when I was working as a line chef or a barista or a bookstore clerk I had this stupid feeling that all the suffering had meaning because it meant I was getting closer.”
“But it’s not stupid,” I said with a wistful sigh. “Look at where you live.” I gestured around with my hand once he’d finished dressing it.
He shrugged. “This sort of stuff doesn’t really matter.”
I cocked a brow. “It doesn’t?” I asked, skeptical.
He laughed and nodded, repacking the first aid kit. “I live here because it’s safe and the lease isn’t too high. If I wasn’t so paranoid I’d much rather live someplace small and quaint and quiet. Out of the city maybe,” he said with a nod.
“You sound like an old man,” I teased.
He laughed and nodded. “Old soul.” But as he was about to stand, I noticed something on his jaw that I hadn’t noticed before. A jagged cut.
I stood and grabbed his forearm. “Hey!” I said, pointing at the injury. “You’re hurt.”
He raised his brows and touched where my finger led. He pulled away to reveal a few drops of crimson on his fingertip. “Huh,” he said, marveling at the blood.
I sighed and grabbed his shoulders, leading him back down to the couch. I grabbed the kit and rifled through it, grabbing the salve he’d used on me and applying it gently to his cut. “I knew you got hurt,” I grumbled, frowning as I worked.
“I didn’t even notice,” he said, and I could hear a smile in his voice.
I was too focused to take my eyes off his cut, but there was something warm in the way he spoke. I tried not to think about it too much. “You and Vante both preach at me about taking care of myself, but here you are with a gash on your face that you didn’t even notice,” I said with a sigh. “And here I thought you had it all together.”
He chuckled, a tender sound, and I pried my eyes away from his jaw to look in his eyes, pondering the fondness I saw there as he smiled at me from above. I cleared my throat and continued my work, removing the backing from a bandaid and blowing on his cut.
“Do you like taking care of other people?” asked Taehyung quietly, still smiling.
I pursed my lips and smoothed the bandaid across his skin, pressing the adhesive edges down. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“No,” he said. “Some people don’t.”
I shrugged and closed the kit with a sigh. “I don’t wanna meet those people.”
“Seems like those are the kinds of people you attract,” he said, peering at me. “I mean…especially after tonight.”
I thought back to the club and a fresh wave of hurt washed over me. I glanced down at the plastic first aid kit sitting heavy on my lap and swallowed hard. “Jungkook…I guess I’m not quite ready to believe he’s all bad,” I said with a nod, but my voice was sad. Broken.
“And what if holding on gets you hurt?” he asked.
I met his eyes, brows furrowed, and fiddled with the latch on the kit. “What if letting go hurts him?” I asked.
His lips parted to speak, but no words followed for a few moments. “You still care what happens to him after all this?” asked Taehyung, and that expression came back. The one that looked like Dad.
I nodded, smiling sadly. “I…I guess that’s just how I am,” I said, sighing. “I’m stupid.”
Taehyung sighed and gripped his nose bridge. He stood to his feet and rubbed his hands on his pants. “I’ll grab you some fresh clothes and call a cab,” he said, turning toward a large door to the side.
“It’s really okay! I don’t need clothes-,” I began, but he cut me off with a serious look over his shoulder.
“Just wait here. You can use my blanket for now,” he said, gesturing with his chin toward the fluffy blanket draped over the arm of the couch.
As he left the room, I grabbed for the blanket and snuggled into it, feeling tears prick at my eyes. I didn’t want to cry in his house, on his couch, like a baby. But I couldn’t stop them. For the second time that night and remarkably soberer now, I cried. The tears were slow and gentle. No sobs, no whimpers. Just silent, determined tears sliding down my cheeks and onto the blanket. Quietly, I grabbed my phone from my bag and sniffled as I unlocked it. I drafted a text to my dad.
Y/N: Hey. Can I come visit you tomorrow? Sorry, I know it’s late :-(
I leaned back against the couch and shut my tired eyes as the tears slowed just enough to grant relief. This day had drained the life out of me, and each moment I spent awake by myself was torturous. I longed to sleep. But before I could get too comfortable, Dad responded in typical Dad fashion.
CoCaptain: You’re welcome home anytime, sweetheart! I’ll make you some food to take back to the city with you.
I smiled and fought off a second round of tears, this time sentimental. How cruel of me to have left him alone for so long. The person who looked out for me more than anyone else. The person who took care of me no matter what.
And I’d been too ashamed to face him.
I sighed and rested my head against the arm of the couch, laying horizontal as the call of gravity and exhaustion pulled me down. I shut my eyes and released a long exhale I didn’t know I’d been holding, my lashes still damp as they rested against the hot apples of my cheeks.
But that blanket was so warm, and that couch so cozy. Before I knew it, I was dreaming.
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I awoke with a groan to bright sunlight streaming through grand, half-open windows. The air was surprisingly warm for an autumn day, all the briskness of the night before gone by morning. I strained my eyes against the sun, each beam feeling like punctures to my brain. Slowly, I sat upright and glanced down at my lap. My slip was much dirtier by the light of day.
Light of day.
Horrified, I jumped to my feet and whipped my head around with much pain, searching for Taehyung. Why had he let me sleep on his couch? Wasn’t that asking too much? I swallowed hard and scanned the living room then the adjacent kitchen. I even chanced a peek into his bedroom which was meticulously kept, not a shirt out of place. Quietly, I shut the door and with furrowed brows turned my attention back to the kitchen. I began gathering my things: the heels that I knew would hurt to walk in, my bag, my half-dead phone. But as I reached to replace the fluffy blanket I’d hogged all night, I noticed something on the coffee table.
I crouched down to take a look and found perfectly folded was a big white shirt and a stylized jean jacket sitting above a pair of baggy black pants I was sure would be too long. Beside the clothes was a black leather belt and a pair of backless loafers. Too big, all of it. But my heart swelled looking at it anyway. I smiled and ran my fingers over the hem of the jacket, sighing.
“Must be at work,” I thought aloud, quickly getting changed just in case my hunch was wrong and he was hiding somewhere.
Once dressed, I slung my bag over my shoulder and picked up my shoes, giving myself a cursory glance in his floor-length mirror beside the front door. I had to say, the style was fun. Add a face mask, and I might pass for a celebrity at Incheon Airport. Curious, I craned my neck and grabbed the jacket’s tag. Balenciaga? I gaped and shook my head, trying in vain to wipe some of the leftover, slept-on makeup from my eyes, a wasted effort to match the jacket better.
Of course, it was no use. So, with a sigh, I set out on my way home.
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My head pounded as I packed my bag for visiting home. Every sound was piercing and the commute home had been particularly brutal. And what was worse…my thoughts had had plenty of time to wander.
I tried everything I could to keep from thinking about it all. Keeping my hands busy, listening to music too loud, cleaning up my bedroom: none of it did any good keeping the thoughts at bay. All I could see whenever I so much as blinked was Jungkook holding that girl. That cocky smirk. Like I never mattered to him at all.
Like the Jungkook I saw was a carefully crafted facade, hand-painted exactly to make me fall in love.
Like he was using me all along.
I shook my head and shoved my pajamas into the suitcase. I rested my hands on my hips and shook my head with a huff, blowing my hair from my eyes. I was the stupid one after all. I had nobody to blame but myself for being so naive.
If man makes himself a worm he must not complain when he is trodden on.
I pulled my suitcase from off my bed and began tugging it behind me towards the front door, setting it down by the shoes Taehyung had loaned me. Although big and clunky, they were a million times more comfortable than those demon heels. I owed him my life for saving my feet the trauma of walking through Seoul Station in those shoes again.
My phone began to vibrate in the baggy pants’ front pocket and I fished around in its depths for a long moment before pressing the receiver to my ear. “Hello?” I asked.
“Babe?”
My body went cold. Of course it was Jungkook.
“Oh, hey,” I said, trying to keep my tone happy with a smile. But even I could hear the dejection in my voice.
“You free today? I wanna hang out,” he said, pausing to laugh. “I miss your dumb face.”
I swallowed hard and ran my fingers through my hair, eyes cast on the top of my suitcase. “Uh…today’s no good, Jungkook. I’m visiting home.”
“Home? Your dad?” he asked, and he sounded so genuinely eager.
I felt something icy clench around my chest. “Yeah,” I said.
He sounded like he was smiling. For real, not like me. “Aw! I’ve been wanting to meet him,” he said, then sighed. “Well, have fun. I’ll see you this week sometime.”
I rubbed the dry space beneath my eyes and nodded. “Mhm,” I managed.
“Wait, why don’t I give you a ride to the train station at least? Save you some money on commute,” he said with a laugh.
I shook my head. It felt like I was on a roller coaster, my stomach dropping as we crested over a hill too fast. “It’s okay, Kook. I can get there myself.”
“Don’t make me a bad boyfriend,” he said with a teasing whine.
I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. But my throat was tightening so much it hurt to talk. “Okay,” I said, unable to say much else. It was easier than fighting.
“I’ll pick you up in ten.”
“Ten,” I repeated, hoping that would be enough.
“See you soon baby,” he said before hanging up.
And I let myself fall to my bottom in front of my suitcase, resting my head against it, holding the tears back because I would not cry again for this man. I would not give that sadness away again.
Even if I could feel the very seams of myself pulling apart.
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I picked at my nails in the car, Jungkook driving one-handed as the other hand rested palm-down atop my knee. He’d insisted on carrying my suitcase to the car himself, and I’d searched for so long for any hint of guilt in his eyes, searched so hard it was almost painful, only to come to the infinitely more painful realization that there was none there.
The drive was quiet, the radio droning on, filling the silence.
“In celebrity news, it’s rumored that the mysterious Seoul-based artist Vante will be attending Ori Technologies’ charity ball next month,” said the newscaster.
Jungkook hummed and turned it up slightly. “Your boss sure has friends in high places,” remarked Jungkook with an easy laugh.
I returned it and nodded. “Yeah…,” I said, furrowing my brow as I recalled the gift Taehyung had given me the night before from Vante. I rummaged through my bag for a moment before producing the box. It was a miracle the thing had made it through the night.
“Though sources close to the artist say he has no intentions of revealing his identity, we here at KBS will certainly keep our eyes out for any unknown guests in attendance!” The newscaster was so enthusiastic I might have assumed she was being sarcastic, but knowing the buzz around Vante I was sure it was genuine.
I opened the box and pulled the Christmas paper off of it. “That from him?” asked Jungkook, eyeing my hands sidelong.
I nodded. “Yeah. Last night I fell asleep in the break room and-,” I began, then stopped myself for fear of revealing too much. I smiled. “He left it behind for me.”
Jungkook sighed. “He gives my girlfriend more gifts than I do,” he teased.
I chuckled, but it lacked any humor. “Maybe you need to step up your game,” I said, a sad attempt at a joke, as I opened the blue box. My eyes widened as I took in the gift before me.
Sitting in a velvet case was a gold chain, a tiny ruby pendant at the bottom. I touched the red gem with the tip of my finger and gaped. “Holy shit,” said Jungkook as he pulled off the highway toward the train station, eyes flashing between the road and the necklace.
“Why…?” I breathed, noticing a second note on the inside of the box.
Don’t think too much of this. Just hold on to it for a little while.
Sometimes having a powerful piece of jewelry makes us feel more powerful ourselves.
I want to give some power to you.
I blinked at it and shook my head. “Any idea why he gave you that?” asked Jungkook, but there was that edge to his voice that I was beginning to recognize. That probing tone.
I swallowed and shook my head, snapping the box shut and giving him a smile. “None,” I said, shrugging. “But it must have been expensive…”
“You could pawn it,” joked Jungkook with a snort before edging the car off the road and into the parking lot, idling in front of the station. He turned to me as he put the car in park and smiled gently. “You should wear it. You deserve good things too, you know?”
I blinked at him, finding no dishonesty in his warm expression, and thought a moment. “What if I ruin it somehow?”
Jungkook laughed and gently brushed his fingers along my cheek. “You need to have more faith in yourself, Y/N,” he said, glancing down at my hands still clasping the box. “You’re more than you give yourself credit for.”
I stiffened. How could he say such kind things with such an innocent face and such a black heart? The pain was beginning to give way to something else the longer I looked at him, at the delicate way his lashes feathered across his cheeks while his eyes were downcast, the slight quirk to his lips, revealing just the tips of his teeth. Such a perfect face. Such a perfect personality. Wasn’t there anything in that beautiful armor that wasn’t perfect?
I wondered if I could make him crack.
Maybe Vante was right after all. Maybe simply holding that necklace had made me feel stronger. But after seeing his true colors at the club just hours before, it was hard to sate the rising anger in my gut.
And the rising curiosity.
Wasn’t I in a pretty good position after all? I knew his cards, but he didn’t know mine. At least not yet. What if I could get him to slip up? Make a mistake? What if I could unearth the real Jungkook? Wasn’t there some weakness in his armor that I could find and exploit to protect Vante?
And what if I could use that to undo him in the process?
Quietly, I opened the box and removed the necklace, marveling at it as something new took hold of me. Melancholia be damned. I smiled slightly, tilting my head to the side as the two of us eyed the jewel as it glittered in the fresh sunlight. I peeked at Jungkook, the awe in his eyes.
“Put it on me?” I asked, meeting his gaze for the first time that day. I couldn’t contain the smile on my face.
I was the one who had the power here.
He blinked at me before clearing his throat and nodding. Perhaps I was seeing things, but I thought I caught a brief flash of that puzzling blush on his full cheeks. I pulled that expensive jacket down my shoulders and guided my hair to the side, allowing him a full view of my neck. His hand ghosted over my skin for a moment before I heard him cough and I spared a chuckle.
“Wh-whose jacket is this? I don’t recognize it,” he said, gently reaching around to my clavicle, resting the ruby against my chest before following the chain back.
I hummed. “It’s a friend’s,” I said as he fumbled with the latch.
“And the shoes?” he asked. “They’re too big.”
“Also a friend’s,” I said, turning as he finished with the necklace. This time I was certain. He was blushing.
Perhaps I’d always had the power. Without even realizing it, perhaps the one keeping me docile had been me from the beginning.
“Oh,” he said with a laugh that seemed shy, glancing down at his lap and running his hand through his chestnut hair. “Well…uh, let me help you get your bag!” he said, meeting my eyes once more with an eager smile.
Before he could move, I grabbed his forearm and shook my head. “Uh…no,” I said, blinking.
Was this how it felt to be the hunter rather than the prey? He felt pliable beneath my hands, and the way his eyes went round and his cheeks tinted pink had my head spinning. But I had a plan.
I had an opportunity on my hands. One I didn’t plan on watching slip through my fingers.
And good God, was I sick of being a worm.
“Huh?” he asked, perplexed.
“Why not come with me?” I asked, feeling a smile spread across my lips gently, independent of my own will. My heart raced. Exhilaration. Silently, I leaned forward and pressed a slow, barely-there kiss to his warm cheek. As I pulled back I played with the pendant on my necklace. “It’ll be like a date,” I said, grinning.
He raised his brows and blinked down at me. His lips were parted in a gape, thoughts visibly running through his head, before he scratched his jaw a little and nodded, glancing away. “Um, sure…”
Smiling, I patted his hand and hopped out of the car, not waiting even a single second for him to catch up to me.
149 notes · View notes
Ephemera Chapter Four
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Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.
Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.
Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung
Word Count: 5k
Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung
Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently
A/N: Hey! Lmao, I’m flip-flopping with this link thing. Last week I had to remove them whew. Anyway, this week I’ll add them later on. For now, if you want to catch up on the rest of the story, please head over to my masterlist! If you can’t find it, shoot me a message and I’ll send it to you. And on that note, please feel free to send me anything you’d like! Feedback, theories, critique, anything goes!
And in personal news, I’m having my short story published in a literary magazine!! PUBLISHED!!! I really can’t believe it. It feels so surreal. But it’s thanks to you guys that I had the confidence to submit my work to the magazine. Thank you for supporting me :’)
And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!
- Mercury
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Outside, I heard the computer room door open and shut. Two pairs of footsteps echoed down the hall. I blinked at the document before hastily shoving all the papers back in place. I threw the folder into its place in the drawer and shut off the light, rushing out into the hallway and dashing into the bathroom across the way. I turned on the water just long enough to be convincing and dried my hands on my pants before bracing myself in the mirror. I didn’t…quite look myself. The same purplish bags hung beneath my eyes that I’d begun growing accustomed to, but there was something else in my face that left me unsettled. Where once there was a girlish naiveté, now there was something harder, something with rougher edges lingering in the details of my expression. In the set of my jaw, in the hollows of my cheeks, in the shadows in my eyes. It was aged somehow, weary.
It was tired.
I sighed and shut off the light as I walked back out into the hallway. Again, the television rang out through the apartment. And this time, it wasn’t the news. Perhaps it was something about having my deepest fears confirmed that had me on edge, or perhaps it was the thrill of doing something I wasn’t supposed to, or perhaps even it was the alcohol in my veins, but it seemed a new feeling had replaced that deep-down ache that had persisted for weeks. And it felt…something like anger. Keeping documents that Vante had signed? Running intel on a man who wanted nothing more than to make the world brighter with his art? Spying on someone who supported and believed in people without expecting a single thing in return? I ran my fingers through my messy hair and entered the living room with a smile.
“Y/N!” called Jungkook, eyes wide.
I chuckled. “Sorry. I saw you guys weren’t out here when I got back and helped myself to your bathroom.” I met Jungkook’s eyes with a steeliness that felt foreign. If he could look me in the eye and lie without flinching, then I could too.
“We thought your call would take longer,” said Seokjin with a laugh. “Not much to talk about?”
I returned his laugh and nodded. “Ah, yeah. She was freaked out since she forgot to feed Hyunie,” I said with a shrug. “I’ve gotta go now and take care of it since she’s working on a paper.”
Jungkook groaned and approached me with a frown, placing his hands on my hips like they fit there perfectly. And, until recently, they did. “Baby, you gotta stop doing favors for everyone,” he said, drawing out his words.
Playing drunk? After all that?
I cocked a brow and let my hands roam his arms with a hum. A smile teased my lips, and I could feel the malice in it. A malice that had never been there before. I let my eyes follow my fingertips and, for the first time since we’d started dating, I noticed a shiver run up Jungkook’s body. Like I was affecting him.
How stupid could I have been? When he never so much as reacted to me? How many more months could I have gone in blissful ignorance? Seeing him now, with a faint flush to his face and eyes wide like saucers, I wondered just what I had been thinking all this time?
I chuckled and sighed a little. “What can I say?” I asked, meeting his eyes with a lazy smile. “I guess I’m just a really good person.”
Another shiver worked up to his chest from the base of his spine. Was this his type after all? “I-I guess so,” he said with a breathy laugh before clearing his throat and backing away with a smile. “So, should we continue Would You Rather?”
I pouted and gave his chest a little pat, letting my hand linger there for a beat too long. I could feel his heartbeat. It was racing. “Sorry,” I said, sighing as I began collecting my jacket and bag. “I’d better feed Hyun before Nara calls again. She’s…persistent,” I said with a laugh, squeezing his bicep before waving goodbye to Jin. I made my way quickly to the front door and swung it open to a waft of chilly air.
“Wait!” called Jungkook, stumbling slightly on a rogue pillow as he jogged after me. As I turned, I noticed that flush was still in his cheeks.
So he liked an assertive woman after all?
Really, how stupid could I have been, thinking he’d be interested in me at all?
“Hm?”
“W-We didn’t finish the beer,” he said, pointing behind him toward the coffee table.
“Or the game!” offered Seokjin with a grin.
I laughed and shook my head. “Hyun needs food,” I said, then glanced out into the hallway. “And I have class tomorrow anyway. Raincheck?” I asked, peering back inside the apartment with a smile.
Jungkook blinked at me for a moment before he coughed a little and rubbed his arms, leaning away from the blast of cold that slipped in from the door. “Promise?” he asked with a smirk. Ah, there he was.
I nodded, smiling wide. “Mhm! I’ll text you,” I said, waving as I slipped outside and shut the door behind me.
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Nara always kept her spare key hidden in a potted plant outside her front door. I’d scolded her enough times to make her ears bleed that these sorts of hiding spots were too obvious, but nonetheless she persisted. As I entered, Hyun was already upon me, whining as I locked the door behind me. The sixty-pound Samoyed had these eyes that made my heart weep and a perpetually wagging tail. I ran my hands over the white fur on his head with a soft smile. At least Hyun was trustworthy. After filling Hyun’s bowl, I decided to simply stay and wait for Nara to return. There was lots to discuss anyway. I hadn’t anticipated she’d take all night, but by the time one o’clock rolled around I was exhausted and Nara’s plush couch called me like a siren. I quickly sent her a text that I’d be waiting for her when she came home, that I had a lot to tell her. Maybe then she’d hurry up. I told myself I wouldn’t rest for long. Ten minutes maximum. But the dim kitchen lights cast comforting shadows on the ceiling and the faux fur blanket Nara had draped over the back of the couch felt like a warm hug. Hyun joined me as I snuggled into the cushions and the two of us fell fast asleep.
I don’t think I even dreamed.
My cell phone’s alarm screeched at seven and I jumped up, Hyun still snoozing at my feet. My eyes flashed around the apartment, looking for anything and nothing. Before panic could settle in, I heard the familiar sound of Nara’s laugh from the open kitchen and turned over my shoulder to see her stirring a cup of coffee, a matching one sitting just beside her on the kitchen bar. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.
“Shit,” I breathed.
She laughed and nodded. “I figured you needed the rest,” she said. “I would’ve waken you up, but I didn’t get home until three anyway.”
“Three?” I asked, standing and rubbing my forehead. I grabbed the coffee and took a sip. Ah, just like her dad’s. “You don’t honestly expect me to believe you were working on your essay until three in the morning,” I said, smirking at her as I met her eyes over the rim of my cup.
She chuckled, a nervous sound, and rubbed the back of her neck, glancing away. “Ah, well…”
“Don’t tell me you lied about the library-,”
“No!” she shouted, turning to me with wide eyes. “We did do that until midnight when the library closed…” She smiled sheepishly at her slippered feet, wiggling her toes.
I cocked a brow. “And then?”
“And then…we might have gone out for drinks…as a, you know…reward?” She turned a hopeful grin towards me.
Without a word, I flicked her forehead and she winced. As she rubbed her injury with two fingertips, I laughed lightly. “Did you have fun?” I asked, eyeing her.
She didn’t look quite as tired as before. Her skin was brighter and her smiles lasted longer. Perhaps a night out was what she needed after all. She giggled. “Mhm,” she said, pulling her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants. “I got a video of this girl in my class singing Eyes, Nose, Lips at the karaoke place and falling off the table.”
I placed a hand on her phone and smiled, guilty. “I’m sorry, Nara. But I really have to go. I’ve got class and I haven’t even changed clothes and-,”
“But it’s really short! It’s so funny. I promise it won’t take long,” she said, smiling wide with eyes that resembled Hyun’s.
I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Maybe, with the scant time I had to spare, I might have liked to talk about what happened with Jungkook. Maybe I might have liked hearing her advice. But with a defeated smile I simply nodded and leaned over her shoulder to watch the first of what was sure to be several videos from her night out.
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Friday was long. I hadn’t even had so much a a free half hour to run home and change clothes, leaving me in the loungewear I wore to Jungkook’s all day. My classes seemed to drag on and my mind was spinning from one activity to the next. Each interaction left me tired, and I knew the day had only just begun when I finally collapsed on my bed at three. I fell onto my stomach, letting my eyes slip shut for only a moment as I sighed. Images of Jungkook’s flustered face repeated in my mind endlessly. That new, unfamiliar expression was haunting.
I’d really been a fool.
Before I could become too comfortable, I stood to my feet and got changed for work. As I wandered to my dresser half-dressed in search of a clean blouse, I found none in the drawer. Perplexed, I turned to my hamper and saw it was overflowing with used work shirts. I heaved a sigh and rubbed my forehead. I’d been neglecting my household chores lately. Even the houseplants were suffering. The devil’s ivy I kept in a hanging basket over my kitchen table was starting to brown at the leaves and the succulents in my terrarium weren’t looking very succulent at all.
I supposed these days I’d been neglecting a lot of important things.
I turned back to my dresser and scoured it. Nothing but sweaters and old shirts. I couldn’t very well show up to the Gallery in a Pink Floyd shirt that my dad gave me years ago. Nor could I show up in a dirty, wrinkled blouse that smelled like hamper.
I pursed my lips and opened my top drawer. I moved aside a few pairs of panties and some bras to reveal the only lingerie I owned. I’d bought it only a few days before finding out Jungkook wasn’t who I thought he was. I figured it might be nice for our first time.
But after last night, I realized it wasn’t his style anyway.
The white silk slip was nothing more than a sleeping dress when I really thought about it. Not once had I worn it, and after the last few weeks I assumed I never would. I ran my fingers along the thin straps and chewed on my cheek. Was it too risqué for work? Surely, patrons would notice I wasn’t following the dress code, and if they didn’t Mr. Kwon would. But what were my alternatives?
I sighed and pulled the thing up my legs from the bottom, sliding it over my tights and jimmying it up my waist from underneath my skirt. It felt odd to wear a whole dress beneath my skirt, but as I readjusted the hem it was perfectly unnoticeable. Quickly, I grabbed my blazer and straightened it along my shoulders, staring at my reflection with a furrow in my brow.
It didn’t look that bad, did it?
I just had to be careful not to bend down…
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“Can you tell me about this photo?” asked a soft voice from behind me.
I smiled and turned. A young girl, maybe thirteen, stared in awe at the large photograph over my head. My smile eased and I nodded. “Certainly,” I said, watching her eyes glitter with wonder as I turned to face the picture. I gestured with two pointed fingers to the two silhouetted figures in the center of the shot. “Critics say these two pieces conjure the same feeling as photos taken by Diane Arbus.”
“Two?” she asked, looking at me with wide brown eyes.
I smiled. “Mhm,” I said, pointing to the photo’s companion beside it featuring the same two people now facing one another, hands interlocked. “It’s a candid shot of two lovers in an alleyway in Gangnam.”
“Ah,” she said, grinning at the black-and-white print. “Who’s Diane Bus?” she asked.
I suppressed a laugh and nodded. “Ah, Diane Arbus is a famous photographer who used to capture images of marginalized communities,” I said, crossing my arms as I scanned the photos. From far away, it was impossible to tell anything about the couple. “Drag queens, sex workers…people that society likes to hate.”
She raised her brows and looked at me. “Really?”
“Yes,” I said, smiling. “Do you notice anything about the couple in these photos?”
She blinked once before turning to the prints with squinted eyes. Her eyes flitted all around for a few moments before, having had enough, she shook her head with a frustrated sigh.
I grinned. “They’re both men,” I said.
Her eyes went round. “They are?”
“You couldn’t tell, right?”
She shook her head, smiling. “Not at all.”
“Because in the end, they’re just people,” I said, nodding. “Diane Arbus wanted to dignify and humanize the disenfranchised.” I paused for a moment as I thought of what to say. With a sad smile I crossed my arms. “Once you understand that everyone is only human, it becomes much harder to hate them.”
She nodded, her smile still remaining, as she chuckled once. “I really never would’ve known.”
“Cool, right?”
She laughed. “Super cool.”
“Jia!” shouted a voice from across the gallery.
The girl and I both jumped, turning to the source of the commotion. The shock of the outburst left me a little shaken, but as I took in the scene before me my nerves settled. Standing with his legs set wide was a young man in a suit, hands balled into fists, face slightly red from exertion and eyes set staunchly on the girl at my side.
I leaned down close to her ear and whispered, “Is that you?”
She stiffened and looked up at me with pleading eyes. “Yeah,” she said, sighing. “It’s my brother.”
I watched the worry etch itself into her features and set my jaw. I patted her shoulder and smiled, leveling our eyes for a moment. “I’ll help you out.”
Jia stood behind me as I approached her fuming brother. I gave a small bow before meeting his eyes with a smile. “Hello, Sir. Is this your sister?” I asked, gesturing to Jia as she stayed close to my flank, scuffing the tip of her tennis shoe against the ground.
The young man exhaled loudly and gripped his nose bridge. “Jia, you were supposed to come directly to my office on the eighth floor! Can’t you count?” he shouted.
By then, a few patrons had stopped what they were doing to look at the commotion. Feeling their gazes burning holes through my back, I cleared my throat and maintained a smile. “Sir, I understand you’re upset, but she wasn’t causing any trouble-,”
“Did I ask you?” he asked, finally turning his angry eyes toward me, slowly scanning my body from head to toe. I stiffened underneath his scrutiny. “What kind of gallery lets their employees dress like this?” he asked with a scoff, eyeing the exposed skin of my clavicle where the blazer couldn’t quite reach. “Guess it’s true what they say about the benefits of being a woman getting a job.”
I swallowed hard and forced a tight smile. “If you could please lower your voice-,”
“Do you know what kind of day I’ve had?” he asked, then laughed and raked his fingers through his hair. “Of course you don’t. I bet you wouldn’t last a day in my office.”
I nodded. “Sir, I apologize for any inconvenience you’ve faced on our behalf, but-,” I began
He cut me off with a loud laugh and began wagging a finger in my face. “What?! Inconvenience? My twelve-year-old sister has been in here for who knows how long and you didn’t think once to ask where her guardian was? Inconvenience? This is borderline negligence!”
I nodded and offered what I hoped was a soothing smile. “I understand, Sir, but I must-,”
“Jia, let’s go,” he said, grabbing for the girl’s arm roughly.
She slid behind me, causing the young man to grab me instead. My eyes went wide and so did his. From the mortified look on his face, I could tell he wasn’t a dangerous man. Perhaps a bit strung out and more than a little frustrated, but no predator. I smiled gently and guided his hands off my forearm.
I turned to Jia and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You should go with your brother now, okay? You can come back and visit another time with your friends,” I said gently, leading her by the back to her brother.
The young man seemed stunned into silence by his own actions and, as if finally returning from some daze, he looked at me with apologetic eyes. “Thank you,” he said, his voice still slightly rough as he gnawed on his lower lip. He bowed curtly and walked toward the elevator with Jia in tow sending looks at me over her shoulder.
As he left, my body eased with relief. I patted my chest a few times before turning to Yuri at the front desk, her eyes wide as she watched me. I smiled and nodded my head, a silent cue that I was indeed okay, and she returned it before greeting two new patrons.
Carefully, I pulled the edges of my blazer closer to my chest, hoping to cover any indecently exposed flesh. I turned back to the patrons and bowed with a smile. “My apologies for that incident. Please don’t hesitate to ask me questions,” I announced, bowing.
But as I lifted my eyes, I didn’t see the floor of the gallery. Instead, I saw the stout suited legs of Mr. Kwon, and when my gaze reached his face I felt myself collapse a little. Disappointment was set in the deep brown of his eyes. Of course he’d been there to see everything. Every painful, mishandled second of it.
“Y/N,” he said. “May I see you in my office?”
I scanned the gallery for a moment, noticed each pair of eyes still settled on me, and cleared my throat, nodding as I followed Mr. Kwon down the hallway. He said nothing until the door clicked shut behind us and the silence became unbearable. Gruffly, he sat down at his scantly decorated desk and gestured with one large hand for me to sit opposite him.
I followed his directions and watched him, my heart pumping loud in my ears. “That was…unpleasant,” he said with a nod, lacing his fingers and peering out from over them.
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“And it was not entirely your fault.”
My chest felt lighter at his words. I sighed and nodded. “I could have done much better.”
“You’re right,” he said, then sighed and rubbed his temples, his glasses clacking up and down with the motion. “And while that man was out of line, we do have an expected level of professionalism here at the gallery that we all have to uphold.”
I nodded. “You’re right.”
“You didn’t deescalate the situation,” he said, meeting my eyes seriously. “You allowed things to get out of hand.”
“I know, Sir.”
“You need to be more firm, Y/N,” he said with a somber nod. “You surrendered to that man too easily and as such, things got out of control.”
“I apologize,” I said, my eyes pricking with tears. I kept my gaze on my hands, shaking as I held them clasped on my lap. The longer we spoke, the more this sounded like a total dismissal. What would I do without this job?
He sighed. “People only have the power you give them,” he said with a cough. “When you forfeit your power is when you truly lose.”
I nodded, the first tear slipping from my eyelid and tracking down my cheek to my chin. “I understand.” He was right anyway. Hadn’t I spent years doing that?
“And as much as I disliked the way he said it, he was right about your work attire.”
I swallowed hard and squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears. “I apologize for my lack of professionalism.”
He sighed. “Y/N, you’re not being fired,” he said, to which my head snapped up and my watering eyes went wide. He was simply watching me from over his fingers, thick brows set low. “You can relax.”
I sighed and nodded, wiping beneath my eyes. “Thank you, Sir.”
“But please…be mindful of your attire. It’s not right for a woman to be…so brazen with her appearance,” he said with a cough and a glance at my chest.
I stiffened and nodded. “Y-Yes, Sir,” I said, but the words tasted acrid on my tongue. Was this what life really was? Fighting tooth and nail to be belittled and looked down upon for something as simple as my attire? Wasn’t he the one who said I mustn’t forfeit my power?
Was I really okay being spoken to this way?
And if I was, then why was my heart racing not with fear but with something hotter?
“You’re dismissed,” he said with a nod. “Please, just try to do better.”
“I will,” I said, my tears having halted in their tracks.
I stood up and bowed before walking back out into the hallway. I stood out in the center of the corridor for a long moment, my arms crossed. Because I was a woman, I had to endure it. Because I was desperate for work, I had to endure it. Because I wanted to protect Vante any way I could, I had to endure it.
Slowly, I lifted my eyes to find the security camera positioned in the corner of the hallway. The blinking red light indicated that it was indeed working. I furrowed my brow as a few more stubborn tears collected on my chin. I let them fall to the ground, still locked in a gaze with the camera. Was Vante on the other side? Could I communicate with him with a look alone all the things I needed to tell him?
I wiped my eyes, adjusted my blazer, checked my reflection in the window facing the city, and pasted a smile on my lips before walking quickly back to the floor.
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The shift was finished at long last and the nighttime cityscape stretched on forever outside the gallery windows. Yuri had taken off on her own for a date, leaving me to close the place on my own. With a sigh, I collapsed against one of the chairs in the break room, resting my head on the countertop. As I did, I noticed yet another security camera stationed by the doorway, trained on me. Was this how Vante moved around the gallery unnoticed? Was this how he knew when I needed bandaids or coffee or an encouraging note?
Gently, I pulled the purple pendant from my pocket and ran my fingers over its surface. Lately, I’d been bringing it with me everywhere, hoping for some luck. So far, ineffective. I sighed and shut my eyes, my fingers still working over the smooth stone. So much had happened lately and all of it had left me utterly exhausted. I wanted to sleep.
Or perhaps I wanted a drink.
I sighed against my arm as I rested my head atop it, eyes shut. The crying had done a number on my makeup already, so I wasn’t worried about a little rest. The light from the hallway turned the backs of my eyelids a translucent red and each moment that passed my breathing came more slowly. How many times had I taken quick naps right here during breaks? How many times had I put myself last so that everyone would like me? Everyone would respect me?
Hadn’t I told myself once I became an adult, I’d stop caring so much about what people thought of me?
It seemed some habits were harder to break than others.
I continued running the pads of my fingers along the fine carve marks of the pendant, eyes shut. At least Vante believed in me. At least he saw something worthwhile in me.
And what was I giving him in return?
Halfhearted protection from a boy I was most certainly still in love with.
I hated myself.
If I could only get a moment alone with Vante, I could tell him everything that had been going on. I could explain why I let a strange young boy into the gallery unsupervised. I could tell him my findings and we could figure out their scheme together, from the inside.
Maybe you should fake him out, echoed Jungkook’s voice in my head. Pretend you’re sleeping and catch him leaving you presents like Santa.
There was no guarantee he was even at the gallery today, or that he’d leave me something. But as I briefly considered gathering my things and heading home for the evening, something kept me rooted to my seat.
I’d be lying if I said I was never…a little curious. This man with whom I’d built a years-long companionship was still a complete mystery to me. I didn’t even know his real name, but oftentimes he felt like my closest friend. And besides, I needed to explain the situation to him somehow didn’t I?
But what stopped me from leaving, what kept me from opening my eyes despite being wide awake, was something more than curiosity or obligation. There was a desperation in my rapid heartbeat. Knowing Vante had likely seen me cavorting with Jungkook the other night through those many surveillance cameras made me anxious. His notes had stopped. So too had the gifts. We hadn’t corresponded at all.
And for some reason, it felt like I’d betrayed him.
After some minutes, I heard the door creak open slowly. Could this really be true? Was he truly going to fall right into my trap? I kept still, holding the pendant in my palm as it rested atop my thigh. I managed my breathing, trying to inhale and exhale with ease and heaviness.
The footfalls were soft and almost timid as they reverberated through the room. I didn’t move a muscle. The steps came closer, closer, closer, until-
A large, warm hand pressed softly to the side of my head, guiding my hair behind my ear. I heard him sigh: a deep, breathy exhale. His gentle fingers pressed against the skin of my cheek, touching me like I may break. My heart raced. His hand moved from my face to rummage through a pocket near my ear. I heard him shuffle things around before placing something in front of my nose. Again he sighed and placed his palm against the back of my head, smoothing my hair down.
“Take care of yourself,” he said in a whisper.
A voice I recognized.
Before he could disappear again, I snapped upright and turned to him with wide eyes. Matching my expression, he stood beside my chair with flushed cheeks and hair that looked unruly against his forehead. He was dressed like he was on his way out: a full-length brown coat and an expensive dress shirt. He blinked at me through his glasses and his lips parted as if to speak.
But I beat him to it.
“Taehyung?”
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