the cupid project ➛ 1/2
part two
✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: you and your long-term work crush devise a plan to win a company contest. in the end, you wind up going to extreme lengths to commit to the bit
✦ genre/au: fluff, fake dating, videographer reader, bada's extra sweet here, slight friends to lovers
✦ word count: 7k
✦ warnings: isn't proofread. another unrealistic meet cute that doesn't really make sense. smut in part 2
✦ a/n: another two-parter simply bc my fics are too long. 2nd part is finished and will, again, be posted soon (literally tomorrow). didnt put as much thought into this one as I have with my other stories, which will probably be a pattern from now. still think its fun. enjoy!
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"It's been three minutes. Why are we still waiting on people?" Youngj fusses, running his fingers through his hair, tousling it
"Relax, Jae. You called us here last-minute. People are busy," Minho says from where he is sitting, scrolling through his phone.
Youngj's eyes snap to him. "Too busy for an emergency meeting with their boss?" He retorts, raising an eyebrow.
Minho looks at him, then shrugs. "Well, that's what happens when you hire a bunch of ultra-talented, sought-after dancers. We don't need you," He finishes, swiftly turning back around, sunglasses concealing his eyes.
Youngj gapes for a second, then seemingly surrenders, slouching back in his chair with a scowl.
Meanwhile, you're balancing a camera lens in your hand on the sofa across from them, twisting and turning the machinery in your hand as you stifle your laughter. Still being somewhat new to the team, you weren't sure if you necessarily had the right to take part in Minho's teasing. You became an employee at JustJerk Dance Academy only six months ago, after JustJerk announced that they were looking for new hires. However, you weren't a part of their star-studded lineup of top choreographers and instructors. Instead, you were hired to be a videographer and photographer, working behind the scenes to ensure that every breathtaking move, every impassioned sequence, and every dancer was captured flawlessly.
Which, it was not like it was very hard. The people here were phenomenal enough as it was, making your time spent at work nothing less than a blessing for someone who's long watched dancers from the sidelines. Even better, the members of JustJerk Dance Academy aren't just a group of talented dancers, but also a lovely group of people. They're kind and caring, often inviting you out to eat after a long day of filming or helping you with the things you struggled with. Sometimes, you still got awestruck around them because it was such a far cry from what you were used to. But, it was beginning to feel like home. And, as the days went by, everyone started to feel more and more like family.
Well, almost everyone.
Suddenly, you hear the doors swing open and glance up to see who's arrived.
"Sorry I'm late," A voice rings throughout the room, revealing none other than the legend herself, Bada Lee.
Even after having passed by her a million times, the woman never failed to take your breath away. She was gorgeous and had an allure unlike anyone else, with a presence that seemed to shift the energy in every room she entered. In other words, she was also intimidatingly cool, which led to you frequently avoiding her because you were, simply, terrified. Though she's always been nothing but sweet and brilliant during your brief interactions, this kindness almost made things worse. It'd be much easier to disregard her if she was an asshole. Unluckily for you, she was one of the most charming people you've encountered in your life, making it nearly impossible to ignore the magnetic pull that's been causing an increasing amount of debauched thoughts and dreams.
Bada walks toward the rest of the group with an apologetic smile on her face. Her long, black and blonde hair was tied back in a bun, and her baggy clothes were noticeably wrinkled, suggesting that she came straight from practice. Despite her slightly disheveled appearance, she looked as enticing as ever.
You avert your gaze and continue playing with the camera equipment in your hands, attempting to appear nonchalant.
"What happened? You're never late," Youngj asks, sitting upright.
"I was helping one of my students out with a routine and got a little distracted. Sorry," Bada explains with a pout, sitting down on a separate couch next to yours. You keep your eyes on the camera in your hands.
"Don't worry about it, I just need everyone's attention for a few moments," Youngj says, scanning the room. "Is this everyone?"
"No, Redllic should be coming in soon. She was right behind me," Bada says, looking over at the door.
Your eyebrow inadvertently quirks up at the sound of Redllic's name escaping her lips.
"Good enough, then. Let's get started," Youngj leans forward in his seat, clapping his hands together. "I want to first apologize to all of you for calling you here so abruptly. Unfortunately, this was the only time I had to get you all here together.”
Everyone eagerly waits for him to speak, the air thick with curiosity as Youngj takes a deep breath, his gaze shifting from one person to another.
"So, to clarify, I didn't call you guys here for anything particularly important."
Minho laughs bitterly. "I fucking knew it."
Youngj gives him a pointed look before continuing. "There's a special event that the company is holding and I wanted to inform all of you about it in-person, because even though it isn’t anything to worry about, it is admittedly a bit...unusual for us."
"What is it?" Redllic asks, appearing out of thin air. Everyone, except for Bada, jumps slightly, surprised by her sudden arrival.
"Redllic!" Youngj says, placing a hand on his heart. "You scared the hell out of me."
"Oh, sorry," Redllic shrugs, plopping down next to Bada, throwing her feet onto the coffee table. "What's going on?"
"Right, um," Youngj clears his throat. "As I was saying, there's an event that we're hosting for Valentine's Day. We're calling it the 'Cupid Project.' Basically, you're all going to get into pairs, and you'll be doing a variety of activities together," Youngj explains, his eyes scanning the group, watching the reactions on everyone's faces.
Ew, is the immediate word that pops into your head. This reminded you of the group projects your teachers forced you to do in school. You can already see how this project will play out, and it's probably not going to be pretty. Based on the skeptical expressions you can make out, you are at least relieved to see that you aren't the only one feeling hesitant.
"What kind of activities?" Bada asks softly, tilting her head.
"Just activities to get to know each other. Doing things you wouldn't normally do," Youngj replies, shrugging his shoulders. "Jho and I have some planned activities, but the point is for you and your partner to find things to do voluntarily. If we plan everything out for you guys, then it'll be completely forced."
"Wait, wait, wait," Minho interjects, pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head. "So, you're telling me I have to go on a date with someone here?"
"No," Youngj shakes his head. "We're not forcing you to fall in love or anything. This is purely platonic, just a fun way to bond with each other. And there'll be a prize," Youngj says, wagging his finger.
"A prize?" Minho echos, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. You and your partner will compete against the others and the pair who does the most activities and seems to have actually become good friends with each other will win a reward."
"How are you measuring that?" Hoyeon, another videographer, asks.
"We'll conduct anonymous votes and collect them at the Valentine's Day party we're hosting," Youngj explains. "But, it's not supposed to be all that serious, everyone. We're just trying to do something fun and, you know, team-build since we've gotten a lot of new hires recently. And, we'll get a good video out of it. We're planning on making a highlight reel of the Cupid Project for our Youtube Channel, which will be nice promotional material, too."
So that's what this was really about: content. Truthfully, you wouldn't have an issue with this if it were not very likely that you'd be the one filming or editing this highlight reel. You internally groan, realizing you'll have to deal with an increased workload because of this clusterfuck.
"I think it's a great idea," Redllic says, a mischievous smirk on her face. You watch her glance at Bada, who is staring at nothing with an unreadable look in her eyes.
"Well, what's the prize?" Minho asks.
"600,000 KRW"
Others around the room whisper in excitement. You almost drop your camera. Out of shock, yes, but also because that was exactly the amount of money you needed to buy a brand new camera that you've been eyeing for ages. You've been wanting to record more complex videos, wanting to work on actual music video sets, but your current setup is limiting you. If you were able to get your hands on that camera now, you'd be about a year or two ahead of the original timeline you had in mind. You bite the inside of your lip, hoping Youngj doesn't see the desperation in your eyes.
"Holy shit," Hoyeon mutters.
The two of you make eye contact, and you already know that the two of you are working together. You were close, having joined the company at the same time and being around the same age. This would be an easy win.
"Alright, so it's settled, then," Youngj says, a confident grin forming on his face.
"Are we choosing our own partners?" Redllic asks, moving a blonde strand of hair away from her face.
"No. That would lead to a bunch of people asking to be paired with people they're already friends with, which would make the whole thing pointless. We're drawing names out of a hat," Youngj says, gesturing towards the baseball cap resting on the coffee table.
Everyone collectively groans. You try not to cry.
"Stop, come on, don't make this difficult," Youngj frowns. "The sooner you choose, the more time you have to prepare. Now, who wants to go first? I already have your names written,"
"Wait, let me go first," Hoyeon volunteers, jumping up and grabbing the hat. She reaches her hand inside and picks a small slip of paper out, then reads it aloud. You bite your lip, praying.
"Howl," Hoyeon declares, holding the piece of paper out for everyone to see.
Your name is not Howl, but you nearly howl right then and there. Realistically, the probability that you would get who you wanted was unlikely considering the number of people in the room. Nonetheless, it hurt.
The man with the wolf-centric name quietly stands and moves away from the corner he was situated in. He had been quiet the entire meeting, and most did not really notice he was there until Hoyeon mentioned his name.
"Guess it's you and me," Hoyeon laughs, smiling at the tall figure beside her.
Howl gives her a slight smile, shakes her hand, and they sit back down.
"Alright, Bada. Why don't you come over here?" Youngj says, gesturing to the coffee table.
"The one that everyone wants, I'm sure," Redllic comments with a bemused smirk, causing a clamor of chuckles.
Bada scoffs, and heads over to the table. She reaches into the hat, rustling through the papers. You hold your breath, reminding yourself of the unlikelihood that you'd be the name she pulled. However, as the woman's fingers curl around a single sheet of paper, your heart skips a beat. You feel as if you were the one reaching into the hat.
Bada pulls the paper out and unfolds it, her eyes scanning the sheet. Then, her eyes lock with yours, and your heart leaps.
"Y/N," Bada calls out, holding the paper up.
You freeze, the room spinning around you. There's no way.
Bada cocks her head to the side. "It's you, right?"
"Oh! Um, yeah," You sputter, quickly gathering the camera equipment around you.
You hear whispers and feel a hundred pairs of eyes on you as you walk over to the girl. You ignore the feeling of your skin burning.
"Hey, Y/N. It's nice to officially meet you. I've seen you around a lot," Bada says, eyes warm.
"Yeah, nice to officially meet you, too," You say, extending your hand.
Her hand is warm and soft, enveloping yours like a blanket. Your hand feels cold and sweaty.
"Interesting," Redllic quips, eyes darting between you two, a glint in her gaze. Bada tears her eyes away from you, giving the blonde woman a questioning look as she retracts her hand.
You take the opportunity to step away, returning to your seat and letting the other dancers pull names. The rest of the pairings are revealed without much commotion, except for Minho's, who loudly complains when he has to partner up with Jaeyong, a good choreographer, but awkward man.
After all the names are drawn, everyone is dismissed. You're quick to leave the room, eager to return to the comfort of your familiar space behind the camera.
"Y/n! Slow down! We need to talk!" Hoyeon calls, catching up to you.
You turn around, side-stepping out of the way of people walking past you in the hallway. You wait for her to stop in front of you before you speak."With all due respect, I don't really want to talk right now. I just want to record. Then go home, and eat some ramen."
"With Bada?" Hoyeon sings, a cheeky grin forming on her face.
"Shut up," You mumble, rolling your eyes and continuing down the hall.
"Wait, why are you so bummed?" Hoyeon starts, following behind you, "Bada's cool?"
You sigh. "Exactly. She's cool. I'm...not."
"What? Yes, you are. Why would you think otherwise?" Hoyeon scoffs, her eyes narrowed.
"I just," You pause in the hallway again, trying to formulate the words. "I'm a little scared of her, is all."
"Scared?" Hoyeon questions, her forehead wrinkling. "She's nice though. You don't have anything to worry about."
"Yeah, but she's so pretty, and talented, and again, I'm not. Not in the way extraordinary way that she is, I mean.” You explain, shoulders slumping.
A look of realization dawns upon Hoyeon's face, and she laughs menacingly. "Oh, I see what this is. You think she's hot, and you're a scaredy cat who's afraid of rejection. Case closed. I understand."
"That's not how I would phrase things but, essentially, yes," You concede, turning the corner.
"You're being silly. She's not a god. She's literally just a human being...a very sexy human being but a human being nonetheless. Just talk to her like one," Hoyeon suggests, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, are you not going to try to get that money? I know you want it. I saw that crazed look in your eye once Youngj made it to that fifth zero."
You laugh, "I mean, yes, I really want that money. I don't know if it's possible though. Even if I wanted to reach out to her, she’s so busy I doubt she's planning on actually committing to this. Especially because she's already loaded."
"You don't know until you try you wimp," Hoyeon says, nudging you in the arm.
"Ow," You groan, rubbing the spot in a manner that probably proves her point. "Aren't you going to try for the money too? Where's Howl, huh?"
"We're friends already, it'll be chill. I don't know if we'll necessarily win the money, but, like, we'll have a good time," Hoyeon states, grinning.
"Ugh, gross," You say, sticking out your tongue.
She ignores your immaturity. "What do you wanna do with the money anyway?" Hoyeon asks, leaning against the wall next to an entrance to one of the dance studios.
"Remember that equipment I told you about? So I can start working on sets?"
"Oh, right," Hoyeon says, crossing her arms. "You said that you've been wanting to do that for a while, y/n. Are you really not going to talk to Bada? I’ve recorded with her a few times now and I mean it when I say that she's nice as hell. I feel like she'd probably be down, or, at the very least, will understand if you explain things to her. "
"I'll try. Maybe. At some point. It's not going to be today, though," you mutter, reaching for the studio door before you are stopped by Hoyeon jabbing her french-tipped fingernail into your chest.
"You better. Or else," Hoyeon threatens, a dark expression coming over her.
"Move your finger, please," You say, swatting her hand away.
Hoyeon rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Good luck filming. I'm gonna go find Howl. Love ya,"
"Yeah, yeah. Have fun," You wave goodbye to her as she walks down the hall, pulling out her phone.
Once she's out of sight, you release a deep sigh and push open the door, only to be met with the sight of a familiar face.
"Oh," You breathe.
Bada turns, a surprised expression on her face. "Y/n, hi. Were you coming in?"
"Um, yeah," You reply, slowly entering the room and closing the door behind you. "Are you rehearsing something?"
"Yeah," Bada answers, glancing at the mirror.
"Sorry. I can go-"
"No, no, don't worry about it. If you need to film in here, that's fine. I'll just go next door," Bada says, waving her hand.
You pause, taking a breath. Now’s your chance. "Actually, forget the recording, could I talk to you real quick? About the...cupid thing?"
"Yeah, of course. I was actually hoping we'd get a chance to talk," Bada grins, sitting down on the floor and patting the spot beside her.
You hesitantly walk over and sit down next to her. You take a moment to compose yourself, running your fingers along the smooth fabric of your pants.
"So," Bada prompts.
"Uh," You stammer, wracking your brain for what you were supposed to say. "Um, well, I just wanted to say that, uh, you are really, um, talented. And-oh, this sounds really weird." You finish, running a palm down your face in embarrassment.
"No, no, it's not," Bada chuckles, a gentle smile on her face. "Thank you, though. But, um, that's not what you wanted to say, right?"
"Right. Sorry," You apologize, a rush of blood filling your cheeks.
"Don't worry. Take your time. We have a lot of it," Bada reminds you, studying the expression on your face. Her voice and words are calming, but her staring is freaking freaking you out further.
You take another deep breath, hoping to quell your nerves. "Okay. I'm sorry. Uh, I'll try again. What I really wanted to say is, I know that it’s a stupid contest, and that you probably don't care about winning, but I actually really want to participate in that project and win that prize money. And, I was hoping you'd, maybe, help me win?" Before she can respond, you launch into another tangent. "I'm sorry, you're probably busy, which is okay, but I just want to upgrade my equipment so I can get more opportunities outside of-"
"Hey," Bada says, gently laying her hand on top of yours. "Of course I'll help you. You don't have to apologize. I think it'll be fun."
You nearly spiral, but Bada's touch is surprisingly soothing, and you calm down despite your anxiety.
"Oh, wow. Thank you, so much," You breathe.
"It's not a big deal, seriously. I'm looking forward to it," Bada insists, squeezing your hand.
You stare at her, and her kind, sparkling eyes. What have you gotten yourself into?
You both sit there for a second, a pregnant pause in the air, before you quickly pull your hand away, remembering how sweaty they were.
Bada smiles, unphased. Then, she begins tapping her fingers rhythmically against the ground, a contemplative look on her face as she stares at the space where your hands were previously intertwined.
"So," Bada suddenly looks up. "If you're just in it to win it, and you really want a fair shot, I think we need to do something a little extreme."
You blink, scared. "What do you mean…extreme?"
She bites her lip and you have to resist the urge to stare. "Youngj said this was supposed to be platonic, so that's how most people are going to approach it. How do we seem better or stronger than other platonic relationships? What’s more intense than that?"
You must be misunderstanding where she's going with this. "Um, a romantic one?" You say, furrowing your eyebrows.
To your shock, she nods. "Exactly. Y/n, I'm saying that we should make our Cupid partnership a romantic one," Bada states, her expression serious.
Your head is spinning. She is taking this much more seriously than you were anticipating. You were expecting to just go out for coffee a few times, and maybe post a picture of your twinning lattes on instagram to sell your friendship. You have no idea how to process this more intense proposition.
"Are you suggesting that we pretend to date each other?" You confirm.
A beat of silence. She leans back slightly, her eyes flickering. "I mean, yeah. Sure," She pauses. "Unless you're not comfortable with that."
"I am," You respond, the lie escaping your mouth with ease.
Bada's eyes widen and she sits up, a smile growing on her face. "You're sure? If you're not cool with that, we don't have to. I know the idea is a little bit out there. I just, uh, want to help," She babbles, her fingers tapping against the floor again.
You laugh. Was Bada Lee nervous? "I'm not uncomfortable with it. I trust you. As long as it helps us win,"
"It will, I promise. I'll make it worth your while," Bada vows, her expression determined.
"I can't wait," You laugh again, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter.
"Cool," She breathes, her body relaxing. "Well, I should go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"
You grin, nodding. "Yeah, that'd be great."
"Awesome," She smiles, standing up. She reaches her down and grabs your hand, pulling you up. "I'm not gonna be able to actually meet-up with you tomorrow because I have something scheduled, but I already have your phone number. I'll text you."
You nod, distracted and unable to speak as her soft fingers brush against your palm.
"Bye-bye," She waves cutely, her long legs swiftly carrying her across the room. You wave back, her departing smile etched into your brain as you watch the door click shut behind her. Then, you're alone.
You stare at the floor, processing the interaction. You had just agreed to pretend to date one of the hottest and most intimidating women you had ever met. You had no clue why you did it. Maybe the promise of money and fulfilled dreams had blinded you. Still, the whole thing seemed a little too ridiculous. Too dangerous.
But there was no backing out now. You already went through the trouble of telling Bada about your desperation, and you told her that you trusted her. You'd have to commit.
"Well," you whisper, hugging yourself in a soothing motion. "Here goes nothing."
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You fidget within the plush confines of your seat, hesitantly glancing around your dimly lit surroundings as you twist a gleaming piece of silverware between your fingers. Your other hand remains in your lap, afraid to touch the red linen covering your table. Your gaze settles on a couple a few tables away from you, clinking their wine glasses together with pompous grins. It crosses your mind that the wine they're drinking is probably worth more than the money you're doing all of this for, and you make the executive decision to reach for the bottle of wine the woman sitting across from you generously bought.
When you drop your fork to outstretch your hand toward the bottle, the woman in question seems to notice, hurriedly grabbing ahold of it before you can reach it, and pours the liquid into your glass, herself.
"Thank you," you murmur, retracting your hand and finally allowing it to fall on the table.
"No problem," Bada replies, her voice warm and velvety, like the wine. She pushes your drink toward you, and you hurriedly snatch it up to take a large gulp, allowing it to trickle down your throat. The heat of the alcohol soothes your anxiety, and you exhale deeply.
Your relief lasts for approximately one millisecond. Because, in the next, you're putting your drink down and are being reminded of the predicament you've gotten yourself into. Bada's preoccupation with her menu gives you the chance to observe the way the soft glow emanating from a nearby lamp illuminates her features. The light traces the curves of her face, accentuating every perfect line. Her eyebrows furrow in concentration, compelling you to consider reaching over the table to smooth the lines over with your thumb. When you try to look away, your gaze locks on the pouting of her lips as she focuses on whatever she's reading.
"I'm thinking of getting the Frutti Di Mare," she voices, snapping you out of your trance. She sets the menu down and looks up, a gentle smile on her face.
"I don't know what that is," you respond dumbly.
She laughs, the sound light and airy, causing the skin near her eyes to wrinkle adorably. "I thought Italian was your favorite?"
"It is," you confirm, feeling flustered. "I just-the Italian places I go to are super watered down. The fanciest thing you'll see there is fettuccini alfredo,"
"That makes sense," Bada nods, her smile turning playful. "Then, I'll let you know what it is. It's basically seafood. I think it's usually served with pasta."
"Ah," you reply, nodding slowly. "Tasty."
Bada laughs again, and you feel like a scratched CD—unable to get any words out, twitching in place, devilish sounds threatening to enemate from you at any moment. "I'll make sure to order an extra portion for you to try. Unless, of course, you don't want me to."
"No, that works. I'm fine with that," you respond, quickly.
"I figured." Bada smiles knowingly.
Your hand clutches your chest. "Hey, is that a little shade? Did I miss it? Please, elaborate," you joke, leaning forward.
Bada giggles. "Maybe. You've been drinking a lot of that wine. And I think you ate most of the breadsticks."
You glance at your breadcrumb filled plate, then at the half-empty basket of breadsticks. "Oh. Wow. I did."
"You did," Bada affirms, her expression amused. She scoots her chair closer and takes a sip of her own drink, her tongue darting out to lick her lips once she's done. You have the overwhelming urge to mimic the motion, but resist, choosing to instead stuff another breadstick in your mouth.
You swallow the last bits of the breadstick, wiping the crumbs off of your mouth, only for a new, smaller, crumb to appear. Bada notices, and when she raises her arm, your breath hitches. You feel her soft hand graze the side of your face, the pad of her thumb rubbing the crumb off your lip.
"There we go," Bada smiles, satisfied. You can't help but lean into her touch, the warmth of her skin a pleasant contrast against the cold room.
You're startled out of the moment when the waiter appears, setting a basket of warm bread down. You jump, moving away from Bada.
"Have we decided what we'd like to eat?" he asks, his accent thick.
Bada nods, seemingly unaffected by the exchange. "Yes, we're ready. I'll have the Frutti di Mare."
"Great choice," the waiter says. "And, for you, miss?"
"Um, Spaghetti," you answer, your voice strained.
The waiter scribbles down the order. "Anything else to drink?"
"I’m good, thank you," Bada answers, her tone sweet, smiling gratefully at the man.
"I'll be right back with your food," the waiter bows his head, his ponytail bouncing, and swiftly leaves the table, leaving the two of you alone.
Avoiding eye contact with Bada, you grab ahold of your glass and drink. The air crackles with something subtle, and you find yourself stealing glances at Bada’s pretty face in between sips, your cheeks warming.
But you needed to get down to business. It’s already been two days since you discussed fake-dating, and this is the first time you’ve done anything together. The clock was ticking.
You placed your drink down on the table and swallowed loudly, causing Bada to stop fiddling with the napkin in front of her in favor of looking at you.
"So," you start.
"So," she copies.
"What's the plan?" you ask, drumming your fingers against the table.
Bada's eyebrows furrow again. "The plan?"
"For the whole Cupid thing," you clarify.
"Oh," she says, blinking. "Right. Well, I was thinking, that this was sort of the plan."
"This being..."
"Dinner. At a fancy restaurant," she responds, gesturing to her surroundings. "People will see us hanging out together here, and it'll get the rumor mill running. I wouldn't be surprised if the media picked it up, honestly. I think it's a pretty solid first step. We're just planting the seeds,"
You nod. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense. How do we get from here to actually dating?"
She leans back in her chair, pondering the question. "Hm. I don't know. An Instagram post, maybe? A soft launch?"
You consider this. "Okay, sure. But, what would the picture be of? This is all so, vague."
Bada shrugs, nonchalant. "We'll figure it out as we go. We're gonna be spending a lot of time together for the next few days so there'll be plenty of opportunities for pictures. For now, I think we should just enjoy dinner. We're supposed to look like a couple in love right now and I don't know if trying to scientifically plan a soft launch is really giving romance."
"Right," you sigh. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize," Bada says, reaching across the table to give your hand a quick squeeze.
You're interrupted by the waiter returning, bringing the food. He carefully sets the dishes down, and a delectable smell fills the air.
"Bon appetit," the waiter bows his head and disappears again.
"Thanks," you call after him, taking a moment to observe the meal.
"It looks great," Bada comments, reaching for her fork.
"It does," you agree, grabbing your own utensils. You take a tentative bite, moaning loudly as the flavors immediately explode in your mouth. "Holy fuck."
Bada stares at you, wide-eyed and frozen, a piece of pasta still stuck on her fork.
You blush, covering your mouth. "Oh my gosh, sorry."
She gulps, snapping out of her stupor. "No, no, it's fine. That was just, a, uh. It seems like you really like it!"
"It's really good," you confirm, your words muffled by the food.
"I can tell," Bada chuckles, her voice low and her eyes twinkling.
"Sorry. I'm gonna try not to embarrass myself any more," you say, chewing more delicately.
She laughs softly. "There's no need to apologize. You're funny, y/n," Bada says, the sincerity of her words and the fondness in her tone making heat rise to your cheeks.
You eat the rest of your food quietly, listening to the bustling noise around you, the sound of Bada's utensils clinking against her plate unusually relaxing.
As you're finishing your last bits of pasta, a group of loud voices and giggles pass by your table. One of the girls, a brunette, notices the two of you and stops.
"Oh, my god," you hear the girl not-so-discreetly whisper, clutching her friends' arms. "Is that who I think it is?"
You glance at Bada, and she's looking at you. You raise an eyebrow.
"Bada Lee and...I don't know who that is? Who is that?" The brunette's friend replies.
You look down, pretending not to hear the conversation.
"I don't know either. You think that's her girlfriend?"
"Girlfriend?! No way. They're probably just hanging out or something."
At this, Bada drops her fork and reaches across the table for your hand, grabbing it gently.
"You okay, baby?" Bada asks, her tone sugary sweet.
You're taken aback by the pet name. But, you decide to play along. You smile at her, placing your other hand over hers. "I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little tired."
"Do you wanna leave, honey?"
"I think I'll be fine," you grin.
"If you're sure," Bada smiles, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb.
"I'm positive, honey bunch," you affirm, biting onto your bottom lip to contain your laughter.
"Aw, they're cute!" the brunette sighs. "I've gotta tell Sooyoung about this."
"Yeah, we should leave them alone, though. Let's go."
You and Bada watch the pair walk away. As soon as the women are out of sight, the two of you burst into laughter, dropping the facade.
"Did you see their faces?" Bada giggles.
"'Who is that?'" you imitate, your voice high pitched and nasal.
"Baby," Bada says, smirking.
You laugh, but the endearment sends butterflies to your stomach. "Sweetie."
"Honey bunch," Bada grins.
"Honey bunny," you fire back.
"My love," she replies, tilting her head with a smirk, her voice playful.
"Lovebug," you answer, raising an eyebrow.
"Is this foreplay?" she jokes, laughing.
"I mean, if you want it to be, I'm not stopping you," you say, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself. Bada's eyes shoot up, and you feel slightly mortified and shocked by your own brazenness.
"Do you mean that?" Bada asks, her voice dropping down an octave.
You open your mouth, then shut it. This is odd. You were regretting your lack of filter at first, but Bada seemed a bit too intrigued by the idea of consensual foreplay with you. She could just be joking, or really committing to the fake-dating bit. The look in her eyes was telling you otherwise, though.
However, you're cut off by the waiter reappearing. "May I interest you in dessert, or shall I bring the check?" he asks.
"Just the check, please," she says, not breaking eye contact with you.
The waiter bows, leaving the table once more.
You opt to stare down at the table. "I'll pay half," you offer, avoiding her earlier question.
"It's on me," Bada says. "I brought you here."
"Thank you."
"It's no problem," she says, a small smile on her lips.
Once the waiter comes back, Bada gives him her card. When he returns to your table with the receipt, Bada locks eyes with you, your heart thumping loudly.
"Let's get out of here," Bada says, and you nod.
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You stand at the entrance of the restaurant, a gentle breeze caressing your face. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your coat, and the chilly air nips at the tip of your nose.
"Are you ready?" Bada asks from behind you. You turn around to look at her, and the way her eyes reflect the light of the streetlamps above you causes your chest to tighten.
"Ready," you confirm, a hint of a smile on your face.
"Alright," Bada says, shoving her phone, which you don't remember seeing her pull out, into her coat pocket. She leads you to her car, opening the passenger seat door for you.
"Thanks," you smile, and she responds with a nod.
After the door is closed, she goes around to the driver's seat, starting the engine and driving out of the parking lot. You're both silent as she navigates through the streets. You peer out the window, watching the city lights flicker and blur as you replay tonight's events, attempting to ignore the now obvious tension.
"So," Bada breaks the silence, causing you to whip your head toward her. "You still haven't fully explained to me what plans you have in mind for that camera you're wanting so badly."
"Well," you begin, relieved that she took the conversation in this direction. "I love what I do at JustJerk. Seriously, watching you guys dance is amazing, and the people are the best. But, I don't want my career to end there. I want to do more on top of that, diversify my portfolio and all. What I really want to do is get onto a music video set. Maybe start directing, too. One day."
Bada hums and smiles. "That's amazing."
"Thanks," you grin, scratching the back of your neck.
"With all due respect, though, do you really need the new equipment for that? You do such a good job with our choreography videos. I don't know anything about videography, but I'd be surprised if that alone couldn't get your foot in the door."
"Well," you draw out, considering your words. "That's probably true. But, I don't think I'm that lucky. The equipment will help, the camera will be useful...the lenses will be nice to have…”
Bada frowns. "Have you given it a shot yet, though? As much as I'm going to try my hardest to help you win this money, realistically, there's a good chance that we still won't win. I'd hate to see you postpone your dreams just because of this camera, or because of this project."
You pause, staring at the car's interior, listening to the sound of the engine running, lost in thought. You weren't sure if it was because you admired Bada so much, or if it was something about her tone, but you were actually starting to rethink things. Perhaps you were holding yourself back a bit.
"Maybe," you simply respond, unable to say much else.
"I mean, the equipment will probably help," Bada concedes. "But, not having it won't stop you, I'm sure. Our videographers really don't get enough credit. But, you're all great and you're especially amazing at what you do, y/n. The only reason why I haven't gotten around to working with you is because the other dancers keep getting to you first," she admits, bitterly.
"Wow," you breathe. "Thank you."
"Of course. You're awesome," she says, the confidence in her words filling your heart.
"So are you," you say, turning away from her, trying not to blush.
"I know. You’ve said it already," Bada smirks, and you simply roll your eyes.
A more comfortable silence envelops the two of you, and the tension from before dissipates. You lean back in the passenger seat, a smile on your face, feeling content.
Soon, Bada pulls up outside of your apartment, and you're disappointed.
"This is you," Bada announces.
"Yep," you nod.
"I had a lot of fun tonight," she says, smiling.
"Me too," you reply with a matching smile. "Thank you for dinner."
"It was no problem," she states, waving her hand.
You step outside, but, before closing the car door, you hesitate. "Um," you say, unsure.
"What is it?" Bada asks, a hint of worry in her tone.
"Can I give you a hug?" you blurt out.
Bada looks startled, but her expression softens. "Sure," she nods, turning the engine off and stepping outside.
You meet her on the sidewalk, and pull her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her torso and pressing your cheek against her chest. She hugs back, and you swear that you can hear her heartbeat.
"Goodnight," Bada whispers into your hair.
"Goodnight," you echo, pulling away, already missing her warmth.
She opens the car door again, ducking inside. "Text me when you get upstairs," she instructs.
"I will," you promise.
"Great. Goodnight, y/n," she smiles.
"Goodnight, Bada," you reply, watching her drive away. Once her car disappears, you sigh.
As you trudge up the stairs to your apartment, a single question repeats in your mind: What the fuck am I doing?
You finish cleaning up and getting ready for bed approximately two hours later. As you lay in bed, scrolling through social media, a post from a JustJerk fanpage catches your eye. It's a picture of Bada and you together at dinner, with the caption, "Caught on a date?!"
You laugh at the predictability of the situation, and just as you're about to turn off your phone, you think to check Bada's Instagram, curious. She posted a new story.
You tap it, and it's a picture of you, taken from behind, standing outside the restaurant. There are no words attached to the picture. Just one, pink heart.
You smile, saving the picture, and fall asleep with the image burned into your mind.
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Three days later, you are stationed near your camera, watching Bada teach. The day after your fake dinner date, she sent you a text describing the next stage of the plan, which was attending each other's events and collaborating in public whenever it seemed right. This initially felt like an excellent idea. You'd been dying to watch and record one of Bada's classes since you started working at JustJerk, and it brought you guys one step closer to convincing everyone you were seriously dating. What could go wrong?
The actual execution of this idea turned out to be much more distressing than you previously imagined. It started this morning when you were filming Minho's class. You kneeled in the front of the room, prepping your camera as Minho made rounds around the studio to talk to his students individually. Engrossed with your equipment, you didn't hear the sounds of the door opening and closing, or the following eruption of loud murmuring. It was not until you saw a pair of sneakers stop in front of you and caught a whiff of a now-familiar sweet aroma, that you bothered to glance up. When you did, you found yourself making eye contact with Bada, holding a bouquet.
"These are for you," Bada said, a proud smile on her face.
Your jaw dropped and you scrambled to get up, almost knocking the camera over. They were roses, vibrant and beautiful against the dull gray of the dance studio. No one had done this for you before.
"They're gorgeous," you whispered, accepting the flowers.
"I'm glad you think so," she replied, her smile deepening as she observed your reaction. You cradled the bouquet in your hands, inhaling the smell of the roses with a pleased hum and missing the endeared expression on Bada's face. You certainly didn’t see the way she started to lean forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Shocked, you loosened your grip on the bouquet, feeling nothing but the rush of warmth spread through every inch of you as a result of her tiny peck.
She shifted back, as relaxed as ever. "I gotta go, but I'll see you later?"
"Definitely," you nod, clutching the bouquet once again, head spinning.
"Great." She nodded, then made her way out of the studio.
After she left, you turned to face the room, only to be met with everyone’s staring. Right. That is what this is about. Getting attention. Nothing else.
You glanced at Minho, who had a teasing smirk on his face.
"What?" you asked him, scowling.
"Nothing," he laughed, then restarted his class.
Now you are recording Bada's class. Or at least, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing. But, having to observe her so confidently lead her students through a routine, hearing her call out corrections with a simultaneously gentle yet demanding tone, noticing how hard her abs are when she lifts her shirt to wipe the sweat from her brow for the last hour? It's been painful. You're so busy trying not to swoon you've nearly forgotten to press record a couple of times.
She suddenly looks at you, flashing a small smile at you accompanied by crinkling eyes. You give her a thumbs-up and quickly shift your gaze toward the camera as if you were busy setting the frame, even though the shot is already perfect.
Bada returns her focus to the class, and the lesson continues. Every once in a while, Bada walks over to you, checking in and asking how everything is going. Each time, she offers a smile, a wink, or some form of encouragement, and every time, it takes everything in your power not to blush. She's clearly playing it up for the audience, but the effect she has on you is no act.
Her students are buying it, though. The moment she gets near you, the girls (and a few guys) start whispering amongst themselves. It's working.
"Alright," Bada claps, signaling the end of the session. "That's it for today. Good job, everybody."
"Thank you, teacher!" they all exclaim, bowing and gathering their things.
You're packing up your camera when you feel a pair of hands grasp your waist. Startled, you drop your tripod.
"Gotcha," Bada giggles.
"Shit, that scared me," you say, placing a hand on your heart.
"Sorry, sorry," she laughs. "How'd the recording go?"
"Pretty good," you say, bending down to pick up the tripod. Bada immediately crouches, beating you to it. "Thank you."
"No problem" she says, straightening up, extending the tripod towards you.
"Thanks," you say again, taking the device from her. "Anyway, you did good. It's not going to need much editing."
"Really?" Bada smiles. "Thank you. That means a lot, actually."
"It’s no problem," you grin, suppressing the fluttering in your stomach. "And, uh, thanks again for the flowers, by the way. They were beautiful."
“You are very welcome. Just fulfilling my fake-girlfriend duties," Bada beams, and you have to look away.
"Well, anyway, I should probably head home," you say, avoiding eye contact. "Gotta get started on the footage."
She tilts her head. "Uh, I don’t think so. That’s gonna have to wait for tomorrow,”
"Huh? Why?" you ask, confused.
"Because, y/n, we're going bowling with Youngj and them? Don't tell me you forgot," she chides, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh," you say, remembering. "I thought that was supposed to be later."
"It's 7:30," she says, a slight frown on her face.
"Fuck," you curse, running a hand through your hair. "Sorry, I'll get out of here."
"We have to go there together," Bada reminds you.
"Shit. Okay, yeah, let's go," you sigh.
"Are you okay?" she asks, concern etched onto her features.
"Yes. No. Ugh. Sorry, I just had a lot on my mind today. Didn't get much sleep," you say, rubbing your eyes. It wasn’t a complete lie. Ever since your date at the restaurant, you’ve been getting bombarded with messages from friends asking about the two of you, giving you little time to rest alongside your work for Justjerk. There was more going on today, though.
"That sucks," Bada sympathizes. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Not really," you answer, bluntly.
"Okay," she says, softly. "But, if and when you do, I’m all ears."
"Thanks, Bada. I appreciate it," you reply, and a part of you is telling yourself not to get attached. But the bigger part of you, the part that wants nothing more than to fall into her arms, tells that smaller part to fuck off.
"Of course. Anyway, we should really get going," she says, and you follow her out the door, leaving your thoughts and feelings behind.
read part two
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