confessions • kji (pt.2)
pairing: jongin x f!reader, fwb2l. sequel to ‘d appointment’.
genre: fluff & angst
synopsis: jealousy leads to a life changing confession (happy ending!!)
warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy
a/n: lol nobody asked for this but i really wanted to write this after yesterday! so enjoy 😋
“jongin, i really gotta go,” you giggle, kissing him again. he holds onto your waist tighter, grumbling about how he doesn’t want you to go. “really, nini, i have to leave.” you say, pulling out of his grasp and finding your clothes around his room.
you’ve seen a lot more of him recently, and your relationship has changed. he started asking you over to hang out, taking you out for food, running errands with you. you didn’t know what to think of your relationship anymore, and could barely tell your friends because none of them liked to hear about jongin anyway. he had a bit of a reputation for being a womanizer and a player, but you didn’t get that with him. as far as you knew, you were the only person who’s been in his bed for the last two months.
you really dont know what to call your relationship—you never talk about it with him. you refer to him as a friend when people ask about him, but nothing more. but you know that youre deeper than friends, you pretend not to see it in his eyes when you’re lying on his chest at night, pretend not to feel it in your stomach when he leans over his middle console and kisses you when he picks you up from your house. you pretend none of those feelings exist, so you can keep your peace.
“where do you have to go anyway?” he asks as you hook your bra back on.
“uh, just meeting a friend,” you say, not ready to admit the truth that the friend is a man and he’s not really a friend. your friend sana set you up with a guy she knows, doyoung, and you’ve been hanging out for awhile. of course, in between you and jongins time together.
jongin frowns at you and your hesitation. “who?” he presses as you pull on your shirt. you let out a breath and fix your hair, stalling as you avoid his question.
“chaewon,” you lie, not really sure why. you’re not dating, it shouldn’t be a problem. but with the way you’ve been hanging out recently, it feels like it could cause a rift—maybe you’re imagining it, though, and he doesn’t actually care. maybe your feelings are one sided.
“what are you guys gonna do?” he asks. you shrug and grab your phone off of his nightstand, a text from doyoung on the screen.
doyoung: can’t wait to see you!
you bite back a smile and jongin notices, his chest bubbling with an emotion he can’t quite place. anger? no, not quite. envy? jealously, maybe? can’t be—you’re not his. but it sure does feel like it sometimes.
you tap back a response, your acrylics accentuating your every keyboard stroke.
y/n: see you soon :)
“alright, i’ll see you later?” you say, leaning over to kiss him. it’s stiff, and awkward, but neither of you say anything. he doesn’t offer to walk you out like he always does, and you pretend it doesn’t bother you.
jongin and you don’t talk for three days, and in those three days, you occupy yourself with doyoung when you’re not at work or with your friends. doyoung is kind, he’s sweet and makes you laugh. he listens. he’s perfectly safe—your friends like him, and they’re all going to meet him tonight at a get together.
you sigh as you look at your phone, your message going unanswered. you invited jongin too, just to be nice since a few of his friends are going to be there. you haven’t spent anytime around each others friends, though you know a couple because that’s how you met each other.
sana nudges you. “doyoung is here,” you flip your phone over as her eyes gaze down for a split second. you look up and see him walk through the door, two of his friends behind him. you stand up from your spot on the couch and walk over to him, adjusting your skirt. doyoungs eyes scan the room and when they land on you, he gives you the smile that you’ve grown fond of.
“hey!” you say, giving him a hug. you press a quick kiss on his cheek and pull back, his hand sliding to the small of your back.
“hey! i hope you don’t mind thst i brought some friends—this is baejin and that’s sungwoon,” he says, introducing you to his friends. you smile and shake their hands. “is sana here?” he asks, leaning close to you. you nod, and get the overwhelming feeling that he’s about to kiss you, so you quickly grab his arm and lead him over to your group of friends.
sana jumps up when she sees him and gives him a hug, your three friends, yujin, chaewon, and bona following suit.
the five of you settle on the couch, doyoung on the end and you sandwiched between him and sana. he keeps an arm wrapped around your waist the entire time, barely moving it even when you shift. you don’t mind his touch or the weight of his arm—it feels nice.
you let yourself sneak a glance at your phone, hoping to see if he responded—a ‘no’ would even be fine—but there’s nothing new. you set your phone face down in your lap, and catch sanas eye when you look back up. you furrow your brow at her and she shakes her head. you ignore her and lean back against doyoung, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulder. you catch his dangling hand in yours, and interlock your fingers.
“you two are so cute, it’s making me sick,” yujin says. you and doyoung only giggle, and when you glance at sana, she’s side eyeing you behind her red solo cup.
sanas eyes drift around the room, but you ignore her until she steps on your foot, not enough to hurt but enough to get your attention. you glance at her again, and she shoots her eyes to the door, and dread immediately fills your stomach.
jongin walks through the door, many people in the party immediately greeting him. you check your phone again and see that he still never responded, which annoys you. if you had a heads up that he was showing up, you would have never sat here cuddled up with doyoung.
you try to ignore the greetings to jongin, but they’re obnoxious and louder than the music playing. “ugh, sehun is so irritating,” chaewon grumbles, but she keeps her eyes on the tall boy talking to jongin. they have some weird tension going on.
“y/n, im gonna go find baejin really quick, do you want to come?” doyoung asks. you shake your head and tell him that you’ll be here, and he leaves but not before pressing a kiss to your cheek.
you smile, but it falters when sana scoffs. “what?” you ask, annoyed with how she’s been treating you tonight.
“don’t lead him on, please. i know you invited jongin, and maybe you want two boyfriends, but doyoung is a good guy. leave him out of it,” she says, her voice serious.
you drop your mouth open to reply, but can’t find the words. “your boyfriends coming over,” she mutter, taking another swig of her drink. you glance over to see jongin walking towards you.
“he’s not my boyfriend,” you manage, standing up to greet him. you reach in for a hug, and he reciprocates, his hands too low on your back for it to be friendly. “i didn’t know you were coming.” you say, pulling away from him.
jongin keeps his hands on you, ignoring the gawking from your friends. “i said i might,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes. “why, you wanted more time to hide your little boyfriend?” he asks. with that, you scoff and pull away from him, already done with the entire night.
“i don’t have a boyfriend, so both of you can stop,” you say to jongin and sana, crossing your arms over your chest. “if you came here to bother me, you can just leave.” you say, staring up at him.
“i came to keep you company, but i see you already have some,” he says, mirroring your stance. you get ready to reply, but see doyoung coming up behind the two of you with baejin in tow, and get a wave of guilt, dread, and anxiety at the prospect of the two of them interacting. this can’t be my life, you think.
doyoung approaches you, a smile on his face until he sees your stance, and then sweeps his eyes over to jongin. doyoungs face falls at the obvious tension, and jongin sizes him up. “are you alright?” he asks you, a hand on your arm. you nod and he looks over at jongin and back at you. “do you two know each other?” he asks.
know is putting it lightly.
before you can respond, jongin interjects. “i’m jongin,” he holds his hand out to shake, and it takes everything in you to not push his hand away.
doyoung shakes his hand, his face not giving way to how he really feels. “we’re friends,” you offer once they drop hands. friends is putting it lightly, too lightly that it’s almost untrue.
jongin scoffs at that. “if that’s what you want to call it, sure we are,” you glare at him and doyoung shifts awkwardly beside you, unsure of what to say. “surely she’s mentioned me. because she’s never mentioned you.” he adds, making you blood boil.
“jongin, stop!” you say, your eyes widening. you look back over at doyoung who nods his head once, twice. “doyoung, just ignore him, please?” you say, reaching out to grab his hand, but he pulls away. you feel helpless as he moves past you to talk to sana, and you hear him tell her that he’s gonna head out. you feel like shit as you try to get him to talk to you, but again he dodges you.
“y/n, i dont want to be apart of this. maybe when you figure… whatever this is out, you can call me. but i don’t want any of this,” he waves vaguely between you and jongin, and all you can do is stand there pathetically as he walks away.
“yeah, what he said,” jongin says, shaking his head, and all you see is red. how dare he try to blow you off, when he is the cause of this entire mess. if he just kept his mouth shut, doyoung would still be here and you’d be enjoying your night.
you stomp after jongin as he walks off, grabbing ahold of his shirt, pulling him towards the direction of the kitchen. “quit it,” he says, pulling out of your grasp.
“you don’t get to leave! what the hell is your problem?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips. a few people in the kitchen glance at you and jongin, and he sighs and pulls you out to the backyard where it’s empty. “what is wrong with you?”
“i didnt do anything,” he says and you bark out a laugh.
“you don’t talk to me for days for god knows why, you don’t respond to my text, and the. you basically show up unannounced? and then you ruin a good thing for me? what is wrong with you?” you could cry from frustration, but you don’t. you manage to keep the tears at bay as you stare at the man across from you.
jongin doesn’t say anything, just leans against the stair railing with his arms crossed over his chest, and looks away from you. you blink at him, waiting for him to say something but he doesn’t. “well?” you say, scoffing.
he shakes his head. “you just don’t get it,” he mumbles.
“what?”
“you really don’t see it, y/n? it’s not obvious?” he asks, finally looking you in the eye. you shrink under his gaze, your eyes darting around the backyard.
“what are you talking about, jongin?” you ask, confusion evident in your voice. he runs a hand through his hair frustratedly and drops his hands at his sides. you cross your arms over your abdomen and stare at him, waiting for him to just admit whatever he’s holding back.
“you don’t feel a change between us? really?” he asks, and for a second the air leaves your lungs. he can’t be asking you this, because then what you’ve been imagining is actually true, therefore real. and now you have to confront it.
“i guess,” you say vaguely, your voice small. he runs his hands through his hair like he always does when he’s stressed or anxious—one thing you picked up on after seeing him more often. “what are you trying to say, jongin?” you sigh, just wanting to hear the words coming from his mouth. you need that confession, or else you think you’ll go crazy if you lose two men you like on the same night.
“i’m trying to say that i can’t stop thinking about you, that i think about you every second you’re not with me. that when i have to go somewhere, i call you because i’d rather go—i don’t fucking know, to the store—with you, over anybody else. and i came here tonight, even though i know your friends don’t fucking like me, because i wanted to see you. and i know you’re upset that i made your little boyfriend leave, but i don’t really care, okay? i can’t stand to see you with somebody else, not when you kiss me the way you do, or say my name,” he rambles, wiping his mouth before starting up again. you can only stare at him, stunned. you’ve gotten more than you were really asking for, and he’s not even done. “and i dont only mean when we have sex, okay? i know that’s how we started, but if you couldn’t tell, i don’t only want to do that with you. i want something more with you. if you don’t, fine. but i won’t buy it, because you chased after me, and not him.” jongin catches his breath, shocked that he just blurted all of this out. it’s been buried deep in his brain, his heart, for awhile now. he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head for weeks, and gets giddy when he sees your name pop up on his phone. he’s been silently losing his mind about you, and you haven’t even noticed.
“why didn’t you say anything before?” you ask pathetically, walking over to him.
he lets out a laugh that almost sounds like a cry. “because if you didn’t feel the same way, and we stopped hanging out, i would seriously die,” he says, grabbing your hands. you smile at his words. “i’m going crazy here, y/n.” jongin sighs, looking down at you and bringing your conjoined hands up to his chest.
you faintly feel his fast heartbeat and nearly coo. he’s so endearing, and the way he’s looking at you with his big, brown eyes is enough to bring you to your knees. “jongin, i-“ you cut yourself off to laugh, the next words leaving your mouth about to be so embarrassing. “i really like you, and i don’t know how you couldn’t tell. i mean, every time you said anything, i giggled like a schoolgirl.” you say, pressing your knuckles into his sternum.
“i thought you just wanted to fuck.”
“well, yes,” you blush, looking up at him. “but i really fucking liked—like—you,” you say, letting out a breath.
“are we doing this? i mean, for real?” he asks, dropping your interlocked hands out to the sides. you shrug.
“we could try,” you say, and he smiles, his face lighting up in a way that makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip.
and you two really were going to try, the opinions of your friends be damned. if there was a general consensus, it’s that you’d both go insane for the others love, and that’s enough.
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ARCADIA’S LULLABY | CHAPTER 5
Genre: Mafia AU. Vigilante AU. Sci-fi (AI).
Warnings: ANGST. fluff. mentions of near-death experiences. mentions of drug use. emotional tension during breakfast. chanyeol crying.
Pairing: exo & Original Female Character (Jung Jiah/Kang Rina) - Kim Minseok/Original Female Character - Zhang Yixing/Original Female Character
Word count: 11k+
chapter summary: the one where shit gets real and sehun just wants everyone to talk about their feelings and let him have his breakfast in peace.
a/n: WE'RE SO BACK. (we're so over) but make it old-friendship-turned-sour core.
guess what you need
isn't always what you want from me
masterlist - meet the characters
082809 - 5:34 pm.
13 years ago
“Yo, open up.”
It was the third time he knocked.
Chanyeol pressed his ear against the wood and heard the muffled murmur of a news anchor.
“C'mon, I can hear the TV, I know you’re in there.”
Not one to be patient when people were purposefully being assholes, he fished the set of spare keys Mr. Kang gave his mom from the pocket of his ripped jeans and jingled them extra hard. Just to piss her off and warn her.
“Wow, this is depressing.” he blurted out, closing the door behind him.
His 15-year-old neighbor did not look surprised, nor tried to pretend that his presence wasn't unwanted. Chanyeol, however, had never worries about being on her good side. They'd been annoying each other all their lives.
Tall piles of books covered the living room, some even went over his head. They were playing videos of the memorial with the president giving a speech in the background on the TV. A steaming bowl of noodles and some side dishes waited on the small dining table.
It was the anniversary of the Seoul Metro bombings.
As always, every year the city shut down for the memorial. No one was allowed to forget such a dark stain on the country’s history. Over 900 casualties, even more injured.
Chanyeol remembered the day of the attack. His mom rushing to pick him, his sister Yoora and Rina from school, earlier than usual. She didn't answer their questions until they got home and she locked the door behind her. Mr. Kang didn't pick up Rina until the next afternoon, and he looked like a ghost.
That was the day he learned the meaning of the word terrorism.
He took a look at the family picture by the entrance and picked up the remote, turning the TV off.
“What is that?” Rina suddenly asked, making him jump on his feet.
She was curiously looking at the pale pink box under his arm, and it took him a second to remember he'd brought it with him. With every year that passed, Rina only looked more and more like her mother, the resemblance was scary sometimes.
He fixed his throat. “Pastries from Swimmy’s”
Of course, she knew that. It was her favorite bakery.
Rina, however, turned around with feigned disinterest.
“Ah. How’d you even get them? Aren’t they closed today?”
“I don’t know. Yoora’s boyfriend sent them, but she hates him right now so she gave them to me.”
“Cupcakes?” she asked over her shoulder, rattling things inside the fridge.
“Multiflavor.” he nodded, fighting back a cruel grin when she stills.
“You want some?” she asked, pointing at the bowl of steamy noodles.
Chanyeol couldn't remember her ever willingly offering him a bite of anything.
“Nope, I’m good.” he chirped.
Her face dropped. Suddenly deciding that there's nothing inside of her interest, she slammed the poor fridge door.
“Ok, let’s go,” he finally said, feeling like he annoyed her enough for the day. He did not lie when he called the scene depressing.
Her sitting down on the floor and eating overcooked noodles alone when there was a perfectly nice summer afternoon right outside kind of softened his heart.
“Where? Why?”
“Seriously? We’re not gonna sit here and eat them alone, that’s some loser shit. Plus, it’s way too much sugar.”
“It’s not” she protested, struggling to put on her worn-out white Converse.
“Maybe not for me, but it is when you spend your life slugging inside. When’s the last time you went for a run, huh?”
Naturally, they ended up making their way inside Arcadia, her father's arcade spot just a few blocks away. They entered through the backdoor, using Rina’s spare key that she religiously wore around her neck.
Baekhyun nearly landed on his ass when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, hand to his chest when he recognizes them and immediately lighting up at the prospect of eating pastries.
Rina found a seat on the countertop, while Chanyeol brought two chairs for himself and his legs from the backroom. Baekhyun picked up his copy of Rebirth and saved his strawberry-flavored gum for later, carefully wrapping it in a sticky note, much to Rina's disgust.
The three indulged in a cupcake each, humming in bliss.
“So," Baekhyun smacked "where you been?”
“Busy.” she said, legs swinging happily, licking buttercream off her pinky finger.
“Doing what?"
"Stuff."
"Like what, sleeping inside a coffin? You look like you haven’t seen the sun in months.”
Chanyeol agreed. “You’re gonna regret staying inside once we’re back to school.”
Rina was not about to tell them she'd been reading those books at home, one per day like an apple. Her father kept bringing new ones, leaving them stacked up on every surface he could find, building a labyrinth out of them.
The last was Fahrenheit 451. Baekhyun would've liked it if, but he was more of a manhwa guy.
She took a look around the room, all the machines were on. She remembered something. “Wait. Why are you working today?”
Baekhyun pointed one finger at the door. The open neon sign was off, and the door was locked. “I'm not. My aunt and my cousins are visiting and I needed some alone time. And they’re all on because–”
“He doesn’t like the silence.” Chanyeol said, mockingly, with his cap on sideways and clearly finding Baekhyun childish.
“Please don’t tell your dad.” he requested with his customer service voice. “That reminds me, you think he’ll give me a raise if I ask him?”
“Aren’t you only covering shifts for Yuan? I don’t think he even knows you work here.”
He did not take well to that. Sitting up straight and dropping what was left of his cupcake on the box, he put his hands on his waist.
“Only covering– what are you talking about? I know this place better than Yuan ever could. I’m more of an Arcadia member of staff than he is or could ever be” he started counting down with his fingers, Rina took a deep breath. “I’m the general manager, I’m HR, marketing, I’m the cleaning and security staff, I keep an eye on Mintchoco at the back and even–”
Thank god, a knock at the front door interrupted his rant. Jongdae was leaning over the glass, cupping his face and pointing at the lock on the door. Minseok stood just behind him on the sidewalk.
Standing up with a groan and still complaining about the disrespect under his breath, Baekhyun let them in.
Minseok was hugging a ball against his side, had dry blood on his left knee, and his usually squeaky clean soccer shoes and white socks all dirtied up. Jongdae was no better, face dripping in sweat, fanning his shirt, complaining about the heat.
“Swimmy’s?” Minseok asked, eyes wide.
“Like I said” Baekhyun continued. “Arcadia is me. I am Arcadia. I know the consoles. I love this place. This is like home to me. I absolutely, totally, most definitely deserve a raise.”
“If you love it so much shouldn’t your pay be enough?” Asked Jongdae, standing under the a/c vent.
“Right. He makes a good point. You should be doing it for free, even”
Baekhyun glared at Chanyeol. “So what are you suggesting? Unpaid labor? I have a family to feed.”
“Your parents do the feeding in your family” Laughed Minseok, asking Rina to pass him a strawberry cupcake. One of the same strawberry cupcakes Rina had threatened Baekhyun and Chanyeol not to touch.
Chanyeol gave her an odd look, she pretended not to notice it.
“Just say you’re saving up to buy yourself a laptop.”
“That I will get my hands on soon if our dear Rinrin here tells Mr. Kang how good of an employee, and friend I am.” he paused. “Maybe just mention the employee part, nepotism goes against my values.”
"Ok” she agreed. But then she crossed her arms and lifted her chin, and Baekhyun’s cheerful grin crumbled. “But you’ll owe me”
“Ah. What’s this?” he sucked on his teeth “I thought we were friends.”
"You said nepotism goes against your values.”
“So you’re blackmailing me.”
“We’re negotiating.”
“Woah. This is unbelievable. You're really growing into an evil little thing.”
"Speaking about evil little things, we saw your boyfriend on our way here. He was totally asking to get his ass kicked.” said Jongdae through a full mouth. “Ith wath him, right Mintheok?”
Minseok tried to telepathically get him to keep his mouth shut, but he kept going, clueless.
“Looked like he pissed Youngjae off again. You know how he hates being stared at”
By her boyfriend, they were talking about Kyungsoo, who was nothing of the sort. He was, though, known for being excellent at getting on the bad side of people. It wasn't his fault, some just read him wrong.
Kyungsoo was just misunderstood. Often. And Youngjae was a bully.
“And now she has been summoned. Our peace maker.” Chanyeol announced, watching her expression drop. She jumped from the counter and started putting her hair up on a ponytail.
Extra tight, extra high. She meant business.
“Wait. For real?”
“You know, just because you’re a girl and your dad’s a teacher it doesn’t mean Youngjae and his friends won’t beat you up one of these days” Jondgae called out, finally noticing his mistake.
“Hold on, wait wait wait! You’ll tell your dad, right?” Baekhyun asked, watching her walk behind the counter and get the pepper spray from its secret spot.
“You’ll owe me.” she said, and walked out of the door.
The guys saw her cross the street and disappear from view.
"What was that?" asked Jongdae.
"Pepper spray."
Chanyeol groaned. “Dude, why did you tell her? Mr. Kang’s gonna be upset if she’s home late.”
Jongdae did not take well to that, and quickly started firing back questions about how is it his fault that she likes to take on other people's problems.
Sighing, Minseok rubbed the crumbs off his hands and silently made his way to the door.
“Really, you too?”
Minseok shrugged. “She shouldn’t be going alone. And you shouldn't have let her take the pepper spray.”
Jongdae, not at all surprised, only shook his head and stuffed his mouth with another bite. The outcome came as no surprise, he was just glad that the possibility of Rina getting in trouble and Mr. Kang being upset about it had significantly decreased.
Minseok wasn't much of a fighter, but he knew how to make younger kids respect him.
“Are these fresh?” Jongdae was frowning at the cupcake. “How’d you even get them today?”
“Mr. Kang asked me to pick them up. I don't know how he did it, but he got them to bake these for him.” Chanyeol answered, pausing for a bit before adding. “He asked me to get her out of the apartment.”
Jongdae and Baekhyun nodded in understanding, no more questions on the subject were asked.
081322 - 05:12 pm
Consciousness comes in waves.
First, pain. Second, something warm and blinding.
Sunlight.
Third: white.
The room slowly comes into focus. White walls. Wood framing the window. Sheer curtains.
Fuck. It really fucking hurts.
She can deal with that. The disorientation? That’s different.
A burst of anxiety threatens to come to the surface at once.
Everyone has cycles waiting to be kickstarted at the beck and call of the smallest trigger. Good or bad, but most importantly, unavoidable.
Jiah spent a good chunk of her life testing out remedies for the bad ones. Prescriptions. Therapists. Thoughtfully curated lists of habits; healthy for the long term, destructive for a quick fix.
And even though nothing could have prepared her for this, time has worked on her.
So as the events from last night come back to her and the doorknob turns with a click, she stays calm and lets her eyes close again.
The person lingers for a moment, doing god knows what. His shadow flickers through her eyelids. Eventually, she’s alone again.
When she opens her eyes again the drowsiness has faded. There’s a classic mid-century flip clock on the nightstand. A piranha plant figure stares back at her with its teeth all bared out, and her transmitter’s politely placed next to it.
She knows right away whose bed this is.
Painfully, she props herself up to a seated position and inspects the sling and the dressed wound. No ethical doctor’s gonna give her the dose of painkillers she’ll need for that.
She’s wearing a thin, depressing hospital gown, and that will not do.
He's definitely loaded. The house is enormous, enough to get lost in and fit her apartment maybe five or six times. Several doors line down the hallway leading to a vast, asymmetrical set of stairs. Vaulted high ceilings top up a communal area, with a long skylight that washes everything in abundant natural light.
She pads down the stairs, following the sound of voices and laughter.
And there he is, stomping out of what looks like some kind of office made of glass walls.
“Hey, hey, wait. No. That is not fair, how was I supposed to–”
He locks eyes with her.
Bewildered. Like he forgot she was there and that just a few minutes ago he was in that room with her.
She looks back at him, like she didn’t know it was him the second her eyes landed on that piranha plant.
A tremor goes through his body before he starts coughing violently.
“Fuck— what the fuck?” more coughing, he plucks something from his mouth. A ridiculously chunky piece of pink gum covered in thick saliva.
Heads turn at the rough edge of her voice “That’s what happens when you try to chew a whole wheel of hubba bubba tape at once.”
Byun Baekhyun stares back at her like she just said the most offensive thing possible, gum still between his fingers.
“Well you can’t just stand there and– lurk looking like– like Shanks and not expect to scare the shit out of innocent people.”
Two figures by the kitchen entrance watch them. One looks kind of confused, the other one crosses his arms and holds back a smile.
“One Piece? Are you twelve?”
“Says the grown woman who can’t get her arm through an oversized sleeve.”
“I'm wearing a sling, you asshole.” she snaps. Baekhyun looks down at the fluttering sleeve, sucking in his lips between his teeth.
And then, like switch is flipped, their expressions shift. Her brows soften, and a wry grin tugs at the corner of her lips. A lighthearted smile spreads across his face.
Jongin gives the person next to him a bewildered glance.
“What’s up with the hair?”
Baekhyun runs his fingers through it. “You don’t like it?”
“Let me rephrase that, did you go to Lady’s Room and talk to the girls?”
Silence.
“I don’t know what–”
“You still touch your hair when you’re lying.”
“Ok. Yeah. No.” He points a finger at her “You’re not going Sherlock on us when you just woke up after a near-death experience.”
“Says who?”
“Says me," he snaps with an attitude, quickly adding “Doctor’s orders.”
“So first Yixing’s a cop and now you’re a doctor?” Startled, Baekhyun opens his mouth and closes it. “What’s next, Kyungsoo’s a wedding planner?”
“Youth pastor, actually. Very successful. The youths love him. And I could be a doctor if wanted, by the way.” he scoffs.
She cocks an eyebrow.
“Whatever. Ah, this won’t do. You suck at reunions. Go back upstairs, we’re doing this again.” he waves his arms at her, urging her back up the stairs. Surprised, she spurts out a laugh. The rebound pain from her shoulder makes her stop and hiss.
“Alright, leave her alone.”
That face she’d recognize anywhere. It’s unfair that they’ve all aged so nicely. Kim Jongdae looks like an upgraded version of himself, just with different hair and somehow, better skin.
“How are you feeling?”
“Lucid enough to steal my clothes, clearly.”
She realizes she's been staring at him like an owl and fixes her throat.
“Been better.” she nods, bowing quickly, awkwardly waving at the end. “Hi.”
Baekhyun snorts. "Did you just bow?"
Jongdae bows back and waves, amused but ignoring Baekhyun. “Wanna take a seat? I bet you're starving.”
She’s famished. The thought of food is enough motivation to postpone the thinking about everything that is happening right now. And since she's not escaping anytime soon, she might as well acknowledge the other person in the room.
“So, is Jongin your real name, or is this another Juyeon/Sehun thing?”
The kitchen is ridiculously huge, with another skylight at the top and an island at the very center. She sits down, leaving an empty stool between her and the impostor, who shares a look with the other two men.
“Yixing slipped up, wasn't hard to figure out.” she explains.
Jongin fixes his throat. “Jongin is my real name.”
“And how do you know Taemin?”
“We used to go to the same dance studio for a while.”
“And he just introduced us. By coincidence.”
Baekhyun steps in. “You had a horde of mercenaries on your track. We were trying to get them before they got you and Jongin was there to keep an eye on you. Him being Taemin’s friend was a happy coincidence.”
It's not convincing at all, and the thinking starts.
That’s for being so fucking stupid. Do you realize what you got yourself into?
Go ahead, big guy.
“Where’s Chanyeol?”
“What, are we not enough for the welcoming party?”
Jongin, however, knows what she's thinking. She doesn't like it.
"It wasn't him. The man in the bathroom came with backup. We thought we’d handled all of them, but a stray one took us by surprise and shot you.”
“I mean, we can show you the footage of him following the guy.” Baekhyun offers immediately. “But come on, you don’t think he–”
“No need.” patching her up defeats the purpose of taking her down, but that doesn't make up for several loose ends. “However, the manhandling was unnecessary.”
“You did kick Jongin in the balls.” Jongdae reminds her, putting a glass of cold water in front of her.
“If you guys knew I was being followed then why didn’t you just give me a heads up?”
How did they know?
And where’s the rest?
Baekhyun smiles. "You made it abundantly clear to Yixing that you didn't want us near."
"So why didn't he come?"
“He was out of town, but he asked you to be careful. Several times, he said.”
He did. And she rejected his attempts at helping her beyond getting Haneul protection. Several times indeed. He was very insistent. She brushed him off every time.
Disoriented, she sticks to nursing her glass of water in slow sips. Several details keep her alert.
One, eyebrows/Tuxedo Mask/Sehun had or has been protecting Lee Chungjae, despite Yixing’s insistence that they’re not involved with his people.
Two, Baekhyun definitely went sniffing around Lady’s Room, and if she knows anything about him, he didn't just stop at that.
Three, Junmyeon and Minseok are members of the syndicate.
The sound of a motorcycle roaring outside grows closer and gets her out of her head. The conversation has moved in a completely unexpected direction without her.
“This might be out of my expertise, but I don’t think you can compare periods to getting shot.” Jongdae says, unbothered by the noise.
“Why? Blood is blood, no matter where it comes from” Baekhyun argues. “And I’ve heard scary stories about cramps”
The steel door is slid open just enough for a tall man to come in, balancing piled up pizza boxes and complaining about someone needing to lube up the damn rail.
“This is the last time you use me as a delivery guy” he declares, dropping the boxes on the counter. He stops when he notices her. Stoic as ever, a face impossible to forget. “You look rough. Bet you wish you listened to my advice about not getting in the way of bullets.”
She frowns, but then another figure walks in. He's holding two helmets, sliding the door shut with a nudge of his shoulder. He takes a look at her, evidently unimpressed.
“I heard you were begging to see me. How you managed to live all these years without me, now that’s an unresolved mystery, one of many.”
“I don’t know how I held up, honestly” she replies, voice flat. “Every day I woke up feeling like my life was missing something.”
“Poor thing.” He tsks, mockingly pouting at her, hanging both helmets on the wall. “But I heard you’ve had some interesting characters keeping you company, so at least you weren't lonely, right?”
The bitter undertone is unexpected.
“Rin,” Baekhyun calls, a smile on his face, and a sideways less friendly glare at Chanyeol. “You still like orange soda, right?”
They move like protocol, opening the boxes and taking drinks out of the fridge, Jongin walks out of the kitchen after losing a match of rock paper scissors to Jongdae.
Chanyeol stares at her like she's about to stab someone. The pizza looks too good for her to care.
“So, up to anything exciting?”
“Not much. You?”
“Oh, come on. Half of the city’s freelancers are searching for you as we speak. Those were some expensive mercenaries following you around.”
“Makes you wonder how shitty the cheap ones must be.” she points out.
“You also looked too calm for someone who thought she had a gun pointed at her face.” he finishes, folding a piece of pizza in two and devouring half of it with one generous bite. "Definitely wasn't your first time."
“I didn’t think you had it in you.” she shrugs, taking a first bite. It's good. She has to close her eyes and sigh for a moment. “And it wasn’t my first time, he ruined my favorite jacket the other night, remember? Got my ear ringing for a few days.”
Sehun shrugs. "You got in the way."
“Right, how’d that happen anyway?” He points at his big ass ear. The left one. Eyeing hers like he didn’t get the point across. Her hair is covering the transmitter, but of course, they don't need to see it to know it's there.
She snorts, not amused at all. “Aren’t you too comfortable?”
Jongdae calls his name, something like a warning. Chanyeol drops the subject and focuses on getting his hands on a second slice, Sehun chuckles at the scene.
“You guys couldn’t wait for us?”
Jongin reappears, followed by a familiar face that feels like a punch to the chest.
His eyes scan the room, curious about the sudden silence. It ends when he notices her. There's a flicker there, but whatever he's really thinking is quickly guarded by a stoic expression.
“Why is she here?”
“She’s feeling fine,” Baekhyun shrugs. “I’d be dying to get out of bed after 15 hours of sleep too.”
Do Kyungsoo offers no answer, doesn’t even spare her or Baekhyun another glance. He washes his hands in silence, takes the spot next to Jongin, grabs a slice of pizza for himself and that's that. Her eyes stay on him, surprise slowly dissolving from her face.
And then Baekhyun claps, starling her.
“Shit, I almost forgot. Dessert first!”
It happens at once—a sloppy plan set in motion by Baekhyun’s insistence. Ignoring whatever he has in store, Jiah beats Chanyeol to the last slice of neapolitan while Jongdae helps Baekhyun look for something in their endless cabinets.
"The drawer by the coffee machine,” Kyungsoo mutters.
Someone must cover her eyes for this, Baekhyun insists. Jongin gives her a careful look waiting for her consent. She shrugs, pushing the last bit of crust past her greasy lips, and soon her eyes are engulfed in the warmth of his hands.
There’s the sound of hushing and Chanyeol’s poorly contained laugh, then a click.
“Ok, ready? Jongin, hands off. You can open them.”
She blinks away the flash of white and frowns at them before looking down.
Cake.
Pink frosting and strawberries. It’s decorated in terrible piping work, topped with those colorful sprinkles that taste like nothing and several thin and tall candles scattered around.
There’s a message in red jelly, off-centered.
“Sorry you got shot on your–”
Whoever wrote it miscalculated the space they had available, so the word birthday has all the letters stuck together and get increasingly smaller.
Baekhyun’s satisfied grin stays put even when he ducks as a strawberry flies over him. Jongdae yelps dramatically when another hits his shoulder, his hyena laugh is interrupted by a long string of complaints.
Jongin warns her not to eat the frosting, because Baekhyun got excited with the food coloring and it tastes like medicine.
“Did you bake this?” she bites down on a strawberry. It's just a hint of sweet but perfectly juicy, it bursts in her mouth “It’s looks like a 4 year old decorated it.”
“Ok, It’s her." Baekhyun says. "Good job, team."
“Do you think I’m some kind of impostor?”
“You have a whole new name, we had to make sure.”
“Wait, so that was your birthday?” Sehun asks, shaking his head when Jondgae offers him a paper plate with a slice of cake. Only Chanyeol seems to be interested in trying it, taking his sweet time getting rid of the frosting.
The cake itself isn’t that bad. Just the usual vanilla cake mix flavor, a little dry but easy to eat.
“No, today is her birthday.”
“Is it?” Jongin asks, scanning her face.
“Yeah. August 13th.” Baekhyun stops. “Wait, you didn’t–”
The question trails off when all she does is shove another piece of cake inside her mouth.
“I usually celebrate it in December.”
Several weirded-out looks come her way.
“Damn, that’s fucked up.” Sehun mumbles, and now he's getting looked at wrong. "What? I’m just saying, if I had two birthdays I’d celebrate both."
Jiah closes her eyes and blows on what's left of the candles. “That'd be hard to explain to other people, though. My friend Irene gets me flowers, but that’s about it."
Irene. Yeri. Taemin. How could she forget? They must be worried about her. Before she jumps down from the stool, once again Jongin answers a question before she gets to ask it.
"It's ok, I told Taemin we left together."
Jiah stares at him in disbelief. "No, it is not. He knows I don't leave parties with random dudes and--"
Jongdae makes a face. "Jongin's definitely not a random dude."
"He knows me too. He'll have fit, but he knows you're safe with me, trust me."
"But Yeri-"
"Fine. He dropped her off at her dorm."
"Where's my phone?" she asks Baekhyun.
"I'm afraid it didn't make it through the night, but--"
“Question,“ Chanyeol asks out of nowhere. "Why aren't you freaking out?"
"Excuse me?"
“Someone put a price on your head, and they’re being generous about it. But you're... worried that your friends won't believe you had a one night stand?”
“It's not my head they want.”
"Excuse me?"
Chanyeol’s lips part, a burst of surprised laughter escaping his mouth.
“Yeah. No, totally.” he frowns, nodding. “They put a hole through you just for funsies. They were just trying to start a tickle fight.”
“He could’ve easily taken me down in the bathroom, but he didn’t.” She gets different looks of disbelief.
Jongdae frowns. “You still got shot after that, and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t just a warning.”
“Those were expensive mercenaries, right? If they wanted me dead, I would be.”
“And this, everyone, is why they tell kids not to do drugs,” Chanyeol gives the room a look, pointing his hand at her “She wasn’t this delusional before.”
“Shut up and eat your pizza, Chanyeol” Kyungsoo says, much to her surprise.
Baekhyun agrees. “Yeah, don’t be a dick.”
Sehun sucks his lips inside his mouth, subtly eyeing everyone.
Jiah shakes her head. “That's fine, I’m not exactly worried about convincing you.”
“They want you dead.” Chanyeol enunciates slowly, like he’s talking to a foreigner “You were lucky we were there.”
“Probably, yeah.” She’s not gonna deny that. “I appreciate what you did."
He shakes his head at her like she’s fucking stupid.
“What? You want me to suck your dick or something?”
“Alright, this is fun.” Jongdae exhales loudly, moving away to get a glass of water, slapping Sehun’s back.
Chanyeol pushes his tongue against his cheek, nodding at her. “Right. What’s dying for you anyway, right? You’ll just pop right back up in another decade.”
Jongin doesn’t let Chanyeol’s jab sink, he turns to her in genuine curiosity. “Sorry, but can you explain where you're coming from?”
“You leaked those voicemails. Your name might not be on the story, but they know it was you.” Kyungsoo turns, stirring iced tea with a glass straw “You destroyed Lee Chungjae’s reputation right after his father announced his candidacy.”
“Im Nayeon leaked those voicemails.” she corrects him, and no one notices, but Baekhyun smiles, a spark set in his eyes. “I only did what was necessary to get them to the public. Therefore, I’m the only connection to her.”
“So what you’re saying is that you’re some– kind of medium?”
“She’s saying Nayeon is alive,” Baekhyun says, leaning over the island and looking at her with excited eyes. “That’s what you’re saying, right?”
“Yes. How did you—?”
“A week after her death her name came up, just like yours.”
“Her name came up?”
Though Baekhyun’s smile stays intact, he visibly pales, and that’s when Jiah knows she just hit a spot.
The question has without a doubt and without her meaning to, landed somewhere. Jongdae and Chanyeol share a look. Only Sehun, Jongin, and Kyungsoo are doing a decent job of keeping their faces straight.
She just knows they’re gonna have a conversation about this later, once she’s gone.
“Why would someone put a mark on a girl who’s already dead?” They visibly relax at her answering her own question. Kyungsoo just barely squints at her. He knows better.
“Shouldn’t you know that? You’re the one claiming she somehow survived that fire” Chanyeol juts his chin at her.
If she had to put a name to the look on Baekhyun’s face, it’d be all work and no play.
“There’s something I think you’ll want to see”.
081422 - 02:58 am
“You know what’s weird?” Baekhyun mutters as she hands him a photograph.
Fresh out of the printer, the girl smiling in it is Yoo Jeongyeon. She was 23 the last time she was seen last year and attended the same university Nayeon did. The only string connecting the two is a few common friends on Facebook.
Baekhyun tapes her picture next to the other seven photographs on the board. Like the rest of the room, the board’s made of glass, worn out and opaque by the constant use of tape on the surface, unlike the transparent, clean walls around them.
The station is rather impressive, she had to just stand there when she first entered and stare at the computer station sprawled before her on the only brick wall at the back.
A cluster of screens stands tall, commanded by a main, curved, and wide monitor, flanked by a couple more of them on each side. And just in case that’s not enough, an extra trio of monitors hangs above, suspended from the ceiling by sleek metallic arms that sell the illusion that they’re floating. All of them on cast a gentle light on the surrounding consoles, keyboard, touchpad, and devices she does not recognize, each meticulously organized and aligned for optimal efficiency.
Her curious eyes took it all in while Baekhyun scratched the back of his head and acted like it was just some humble setup. Honest work, he called it, still in progress. She still can’t figure out what else he can add, or how he can rearrange what’s an already pristine network of wires hidden at the back, and she’s too afraid to ask.
“None of Nayeon’s friends have posted anything about the investigation or the voicemails. That’s weird, isn’t it? If there was a possibility that your friend was murdered, you’d be outspoken about it, right? You’d want answers.”
“They could’ve been threatened” Jiah reminds him, staring up at the eight pictures on the board.
A line of girls stares back at them, all of them undergrad students, just like Nayeon. There’s a pattern in there, difficult financial situations, complicated and sometimes no familial affiliations or support network, and they’re all seriously attractive under current beauty standards.
Two of them are orphans. Two are foreign. The last one, Jeongyeon, makes an exception by keeping in touch with her mother until the time of her disappearance. Baekhyun started working on the list and gathering info with Yixing last year, and so far, every single case has turned cold. Not for a lack of investigating, she has their files, courtesy of Yixing, splayed around her.
“Still…” he mumbles, leaning his head to the side and reaching for his glass of iced coffee, looking startled when nothing but ice cubes hit his upper lip “If one of the girls at the salon were in that situation, you’d ask for the truth, threatened or not.”
Her stomach twists at the thought. She would not stop at asking for it, she’s confident that she’d turn the city upside down until she found them, but who’s doing that for these girls?
“It’s different. It’s my job.”
“Pretty sure you’ve gone past the limits of journalism.” Baekhyun tuts. “But you see it, right? There’s something here. I’m not being a conspiracy junkie.”
“I see it, yeah.”
“Have you tried talking to Nayeon’s friends?”
“I don’t think we should be focusing on her friends like that, we might not even be focusing on these girls the way we should,” she says, rushing to explain when Baekhyun opens his mouth “Don’t get me wrong, there’s a pattern, but Nayeon was– she left a message and everything, and these girls are all…”
“Silent?” Baekhyun offers.
“Yes.” she sighs, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “They’re all silent, it can’t be a good sign.”
“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” Baekhyun says, breaking her out of her trance.
She frowns and snorts. “Did you just quote Wilde at me?”
“The Importance of Being Earnest” he smiles proudly. “Kind of out of context, but it’s true.”
She smiles at him, sighing and looking back at the board. “In my experience, most of the time the truth turns out to be boring and people end up disappointed. Everyone wants a conspiracy.”
“That’s true. But when it’s not boring–” He gives her a meaningful look, and she wonders if that’s what she looks like to other people.
“Yeah.” she agrees, he doesn’t need to finish that sentence for her to know what he means. “This doesn’t look boring at all”
“And it doesn’t look fun either, does it?” he sucks in a sharp breath. "Maybe they’re not silent, we’re just not listening the way we should.”
As it turns out, The station has no semblance of soundproofing. When someone comes in through the kitchen, they can hear the low hum of voices, the sound of keys being dropped and groans of relief as shoes are taken off at the entrance.
A few seconds later there’s a soft knock on the glass.
She doesn’t know what she expected, but it was certainly not Kim Junmyeon dressed in casual attire instead of a suit like the last time she saw him, fresh out of a syndicate debut. Now he looks more like an older brother checking on his little siblings. A dad even.
“Baekhyun, it’s 3 am. I know this is how you choose to live but she needs rest” his eyes look as tired as he sounds.
“Do you think she’s here against her will?” Baekhyun asks, offended.
He walks in, leaving the door open behind him. Jiah thinks she sees a shadow walk past through the living room, but it’s gone before she can notice anyone.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thanks for the help. I appreciate it.”
He nods. “It’s what we do”
“And for the lawyer, the other day. Yixing told me” she adds. And maybe it’s the meds kicking in, or the emotional exertion of the day and having to see so many old new faces, but fatigue is beginning to weigh down on her.
“You did well,” Junmyeon says. “The girl needed help, he had it coming.”
He buries his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, pointing at the board with his chin. There’s a signature curious pout on his face. “What’s this about?”
“Don’t be nosy. We’ll explain in the morning” Baekhyun answers, fingers dancing all over his keyboard with speedy clicks. Junmyeon doesn’t look too convinced, letting out a loud sigh that makes her feel even more foreign in this place.
Do they all live here? Together? At their age? What about Minseok?
“Alright. There’ll be a lot of that in the morning.” he gives her a look she does not reciprocate. “I’m going to bed, you two should get some rest.”
He stops just as he’s about to walk out the door.
“We don’t have a guest room ready, since someone decided to use it as a storage room, so I hope you won’t mind taking Baekhyun’s bed”
“She’s getting the coziest room in this house, she doesn’t mind” Baekhyun speaks for her, standing up and leaning over her to start shutting down his monster of a station.
She catches a glimpse of Junmyeon's reflection on the dark screen that Baekhyun turns off first. He stands there for a moment, looking at them with a pensive expression before he turns around and closes the door behind him.
Some rest might be nice, she thinks, as Baekhyun starts talking her ear off again.
7:34 AM
A few hours later she’s closing his bedroom’s door behind her as quietly as she can.
The house is silent. No one can be bothered to be up so early on a Sunday, and she counts on that being the case until she figures out where her—
“Hey there. You looking for these?”
She can’t escape him, can she? A very sleepy and messy-haired Baekhyun has a hold of her boots and her bag, closing the door across from his room behind him. She gets a glimpse of someone’s sleeping form.
“I hid them, just in case you tried to sneak out,” he explains, rubbing his puffy eyes before stretching loudly. At this pace, he’s going to wake everyone.
“I need a shower” she winces at how loud her voice sounds “And I already stayed here for too long. Can I have them back?”
“Shower?“ he pretends to think over, nodding "We have plenty of those around here, I believe. Soap, towels, shampoo. You still take them at hell temperature?”
She blinks at him.
“Baekhyun.”
“Rina.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I! You can’t just leave on your own until we’re sure it’s safe for you out there, you’re not exactly in the condition to bite attackers either.”
“Am I a hostage?”
She doesn’t like the sweet little smile he gives her. “You’re a guest.”
“But you’re telling me I can’t leave.”
“We can negotiate after breakfast. Come on, I’m giving you a tour of my favorite spot.”
Thirty minutes later she’s waiting for him to pay for a ridiculous amount of overpriced breakfast sandwiches with different fillings. The cashier, a lanky guy with a bored expression on his face and ginormous red headphones swallowing up his ears puts everything inside a bag.
Baekhyun sends a cheeky smile in her direction, making sure she’s still standing by the end of the counter, shifting uncomfortably in a huge pair of slippers. The lack of socks makes the experience even worse.
“That’s a lot of food,” she points out.
“We’re feeding ten adults, I promise you it’s never too much of anything in our house” he answers, starting the engine.
“Ten adults?”
“I texted Yixing. It’s been a while since we all had a meal together. I don't remember the last time we used the dining table.”
She sighs, leaning her head against the passenger window and trying to find any familiar street.
“Slept well?”
“I’m very uncomfortable with this and I don’t appreciate you withholding my things”
“Oh-kay, someone’s grumpy in the morning.” he chuckles, leaning over the steering wheel as he takes a turn. “Consider this your punishment for trying to leave without saying goodbye. You got a deadbeat father complex or something?”
She glares at him, half-heartedly.
“Come on, it’s just breakfast with the boys. Best meal of the day, with the boys.”
“It’s not just breakfast, you know that” she mutters, closing her eyes to rest them for a second.
“Hey, it’s just us,” He surprises her by finding her wrist resting on the seat. His fingers curl around it, giving it a light tug, like a kid trying to get a grown-up’s attention “No one will jump you or anything. I know things are awkward, but they won’t have to be once we all talk and catch up, yeah?”
The red light goes green after what feels like an eternity. It takes him a second to notice, and he’s back to quietly driving them across the street, still not letting go of her wrist.
“You trust me, right?” he asks suddenly, giving her a glance.
“Seriously, out of nowhere?”
He doesn’t laugh, only turns to look at her with a serious look on his usually relaxed features. “Cause I trust you, Rin. I hope you know that.”
The fuck?
“Ok? Thanks–”
“I mean, I don’t know what you’ve been up to, obviously, or what– you know? Happened, but I know I trust you.” he nods firmly, fixing his throat and suddenly avoiding her eyes. "Whatever happened, it doesn't matter to me. I'm just happy to see you again."
She feels the sudden need to get out of the car, but her shoulder would probably combust, so she gives him the softest of nods. The feeling that it's a mediocre reply lingers.
Eventually, he lets go of her wrist.
About half an hour later, she's watching Jongdae fix a generous batch of coffee while singing his heart out to an OST only someone over 30 could recognize. He was the first to wake up, walked into the kitchen, took a look at her and immediately scolded Baekhyun for not getting her slippers closer to her size.
They belong to Chanyeol and he thinks it’s just hilarious that she walks like a duck in them.
They all come down one by one in different states of sleepiness. All Jiah can think is that life has taken a seriously strange turn, and there’s not much she can do about it other than hold on to a cup of coffee and watch in silence, hair still wet.
“How are you feeling?” Junmyeon asks once again, taking some multivitamins and eyeing a plate of fruit that Sehun tries to keep safe from Chanyeol’s prying hands, asking him for the third time if he washed his hands.
He looks like Jongdae had to drag him out of bed, bed sheet imprints leaving red lines on his left cheek, swollen eyes and messy hair. There’s even dry drool on his chin. She wants to point it out, but they're not comfortable like that with each other.
He eyes the third spoonful of sugar she drops on her coffee but keeps any comment to himself.
“We can ask Dr. Jangmi for something stronger if you need it, just let me know.”
“Alright, thanks. I appreciate that,” she says for what feels like the 20th time in the past 24 hours.
Thanks. I appreciate that. This is weird as fuck though, can we not do this?
“Huh? What's this? What’s going on here?”
There is a soft giggle at the end of Yixing’s question. He's taking his shoes off, stumbling a bit, not closing the door behind him, holding a coffee cup carrier.
“Breakfast.” Jondgae says, and Jiah suspects he made a face. Whatever that means.
“Hey,” he makes his around the island and engulfs her in a careful hug. He's warm to the touch from being outside. “How are you feeling?”
"I’m ok.” she smiles, not being able to help her lips from pouting. “My shoulder’s kind of fucked, though.”
He frowns, shakes his head slowly, hands moving up and down her good arm, leaning down to press his lips to her temple. "I know. I'm sorry. But the more rest you get, the faster you'll feel better again, so don't rush yourself."
She nods, letting her weight rest on him for just a bit, eyes fluttering open when white cotton and a head of thick black hair passes by, startling her.
Kim Minseok is putting two extra carriers next to the one Yixing left on the island top. The door is now closed, but she never heard him come in. And now he's handing people coffee.
Chanyeol thanks him a thousand times. It seems like Jongdae's coffee making skills are controversial, he nags at them about being ungrateful, but walks over to get his cup anyway.
"Oh, that's–"
Jongdae's extended hand stops abruptly at Yixing's interruption. The cup Minseok was just about to give him is now being held by both of them.
"Dirty chai. That's Rina's." he explains.
Jiah, unsure about how to proceed, stares at the cup in front of her face, neither releasing it. Jongdae drops his hand, eyes shifting between them.
Yixing blinks curiously at Minseok, whose face she's avoiding to turn to look at.
Sehun leans over and grabs a cup of his own with his ridiculously long arms.
"Are you guys gonna give it to her, or–"
HIs comment wraps it up. Yixing gives her the cup, smiling down at her and paying no mind to the tilt of Jongdae’s eyebrow or Junmyeon's side eye.
“Oh, before I forget. I told Haneul you're taking a break. He sounded worried, maybe you should give him a call?”
Right. Haneul. She’s been so distracted that she forgot about him as well. Yixing offers her his phone, but Baekhyun cuts him off and tells her to focus on breakfast while it's still warm.
Kyungsoo is the last one to take a seat at the table, lazily scrolling through his phone. There’s a pair of thick-framed glasses perched on top of his nose. He sighs at Baekhyun’s loud moan when he takes the first bite.
“Just as good as I remembered.”
The table is filled with the sound of eating and the low hum of someone's lofi playlist playing from the speakers. The moment lingers just long enough to become awkward.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I love uncomfortable silences during breakfast, I heard they’re good for digestion,”
Junmyeon stops mid-bite and gives Sehun a look.
“What? I mean she’s here now, can’t you just catch up? Ask her what happened on the third day?”
“Ok, Sehun. Just finish your sandwich.”
He rolls his eyes, pointedly taking a big bite.
“Didn’t you have something to show us?” Jongin asks helpfully. Jiah has noticed that him and Sehun stick to each other, despite being on opposite ends of several traits.
“Glad you asked,” Baekhyun claps his hands, standing up as he licks his fingers having successfully devoured his sandwich. He disappears for a bit and comes back wheeling the glass board behind him.
Yixing turns to the side in his seat, pointing at one of the pictures.
“There’s another girl?”
“Yep,” Baekhyun beams, the excited smile on his face melting immediately. He fixes his throat. “Long story short, these girls all are missing, they’re also all students, and they could be connected to Nayeon’s disappearance. We’re thinking they might help us find her.”
“Did you just say find her?”
“I did,” Baekhyun points his finger at Junmyeon, happy that he caught that “Nayeon is alive.”
Other than Sehun noisily blowing on his drink, the silence is heavy with skepticism.
“We’re keeping a positive mindset here. There is a big, big chance she didn’t die in that fire. The body they found at her apartment was declared burned beyond recognition, and Nayeon didn’t have recent dental work done on her, so they couldn't even look for a match. And before you accuse me of being delusional, Rina came to the same conclusion all on her own.”
“Is this true?”
Jiah nods at Junmyeon. “She sent her brother the recordings through a shipping company days before the fire and scheduled the delivery. He got the package in the mail exactly two weeks after the fire.”
“So she knew she was in danger.”
“Creative.” Chanyeol mutters, impressed “She found a way to let her brother know without putting him in direct danger.”
“And then he tried to end Lee Chungjae himself.” Sehun adds.
“If she went through that effort, she would’ve tried to hide, right? It was only a theory, but Lee Chungjae probably has a reason to believe this as well, and he doesn’t want any loose ends.”
Junmyeon’s face is unreadable.
“And well,” she points at her shoulder. “I think that night proved my theory.”
Yixing leans back on his chair, crossing his arms. It’s followed by a dry chuckle at the other side of the table.
“Can we just tell her?”
"Baekhyun tries to interrupt, but Chanyeol has a point to make.
"Nah, let her know, or she’ll go out there and successfully get herself killed this time just because she thinks she has backup.”
Jongdae tries as well, not without giving her a careful sideways glance that she doesn’t return, staring back at Chanyeol with just a slight narrowing of her eyes. Her lack of reaction so far has made his demeanor get a little more vicious.
“Let’s not–”
“How do you think they knew it was you, even with your editor protecting you?” Chanyeol finally asks “Your protector snitched on you, didn’t think twice before selling you out to Lee Chungjae’s team. He’s putting good money on his dad's campaign, did you not know?”
“Protector?” she blurts out, neither a question nor an affirmation. “Are you- wait, you mean Namjoon?”
She snorts.
“I mean, yes? He knew about the investigation. I let him know before it came out.”
“You’re full so of shit. It's just sad.” Chanyeol shakes his head slowly.
“Like I said before, I’m not worried about convincing you.”
“Why?” he dares.
She can't judge him for being so remarkably slow. He doesn’t trust her, he’s probably terrified of whatever he thinks she represents. Yixing didn't lie about people being wary of her.
It’s disappointing to see him handle what he thinks is a threat so poorly, but then again he always was a heart-on-his-sleeve kind of guy.
Others keep their silence and listen. Kyungsoo, even Junmyeon. Minseok's glare is impossible to ignore.
“Because sometimes being underestimated can work in your favor.” she speaks slowly like it’s a child across from her and not a man two years her senior.
The tension spikes. All these resources, a wide range of skills, a seat at the syndicate, and just a few harmless words make their mood drop.
Junmyeon leans in. “So what I'm hearing is that you put yourself at risk just to... prove a theory.”
“Of course not,” she wonders if he paid attention at all to what she said. “I hoped they’d come expecting to find Nayeon through me, so I set up a lead. It’s not about if they take it but who does. Chungjae's not doing this alone.”
“And did it work? The bait?“ Jongin sounds hopeful.
"I’m hoping it did.”
“You’re hoping it did?” Junmyeon repeats. “It’s been 48 hours, what if they realized you’re bluffing and decided you’re not useful anymore?”
“I’ve got it handled.”
“You never mentioned any of this” Baekhyun says, breaking his silence.
He has a look of disappointment on his face she wants to get rid of, and then she remembers that pale grin he gave her yesterday, like he was about to break into a cold sweat.
“I’ll let you know what I find.”
There's something happening right in front of her eyes. As much as she wishes she could trust Yixing, his explanation about them being wary about her association with Namjoon doesn't cut it.
Her eyes find Minseok's and she hopes he's better than Baekhyun at subtlety. If getting himself a seat at the table is any indication, chances are he is.
Something indeed, and she's nearly convinced that it goes against the deal he signed a few days ago.
But that's not it, isn't it? There's more to it.
He lifts his chin, just barely, it feels too much like a silent warning. It has the opposite effect he wants. The dirty chai kicks in at once.
“Frankly, I don’t think you’re in the state to be handling anything right now.” Junmyeon’s amused little chuckle kills her momentum.
“I agree,” Yixing says, much to her disappointment “Even if you’re right, it doesn’t mean you're in any less danger.”
“I know how to take care of myself."
“Do I need to remind you that just almost bled out on the way to the hospital? This is obviously getting out of your hands. I won’t have your picture next to those girls'.”
Junmyeon points at the board. He's wearing a ring on his index finger. She's surprised it fits. Maybe he had it resized.
“You can leave it to us this time, we’ll handle it.”
“I appreciate the concern, but it's not your decision to make.”
"Question," Baekhyun says, a surprisingly serious look on his face. "Would it be so bad to let us help?"
“That's not the point. I promised Im Haneul I’d see this through.”
“Wouldn't be the first time you let someone down. He'll survive.” Chanyeol coldly replies.
Her blood starts to boil. They're cornering her, and her patience has a limit.
“Alright, I don’t know what your problem is, but let’s get it over with."
A deep voice has heads turning to the right. “You know what his problem is. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”
If Chanyeol’s voice was venomous, Kyungsoo’s tone feels like battery acid.
Chanyeol wastes no time. “Only a handful of people survived Hwacheon's fire, how did you make it out?”
“You shouldn’t believe official records, the prison system in this country is a joke.”
“So no complex escape plan? I was expecting some prison break shit from you.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
He shakes a finger at her.
“I heard rumors, you know? About this girl that worked for Kim Namjoon. No one knew where she came from, not even back in their hometown. They said she was a witch, could sniff out a traitor from a mile away,”
Jiah has to give it to him, he sure knows how to set the mood with the storytelling.
“And then one day, she disappeared without a trace. People said he killed her after she tried to turn on them, others said someone in their circle knocked her up and he sent her away. Whatever happened, she vanished.”
“A hundred years passed and my brother and I discovered the new Avatar, an airbender named Aang." Sehun says, arm coming to rest around Jongin's shoulders. He pretends not to hear him.
“I don't know what you want me to say."
“Was it him, Hwacheon’s fire? Is that how you got out?”
To her utter disbelief, he's being serious. All she can do is open her mouth and close it, look around to see if anyone else understands how stupid that is.
Kyungsoo shrugs. “You’re not denying it.”
“No, Kyungsoo. Kim Namjoon didn’t blow up a federal facility to help me escape. I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. I didn’t even know them back then.”
“Hwacheon is just ten miles away from Songju, isn't it? Right where Namjoon’s operation started. That was you. November 10th, the prosecutor's kids, the clean up, the start of the syndicate. You were there.”
"I was." she says without hesitation, still not understanding what's the big deal.
"Why?"
"Because they helped me out. And I because wanted to."
“Well, since we all know he cashes in all his favors, I guess the big, scary question here is what did you have to do to pay off your debt after they helped you out? Was it witchery, or was it-”
“Ok,” Junmyeon interferes, putting one hand on the table. “You’re crossing the line.”
“Don’t worry, he’s not even close.” she says with a light tone, but the slight curl of her lips betrays the cutting edge behind her words.
"I just hope that if you got knocked up, you had the sense to get rid of it. Otherwise, you're an asshole for putting yourself in danger when you have a kid somewhere."
“Wow. When did he become this fucking pathetic?” she asks, genuinely curious, but they're all either too uncomfortable or embarrassed to grace her with an answer.
“Ok, I’ll translate for him.” Sehun chimes in, leaning forward with a serious expression on his face. Jongin closes his eyes and expects the worst. “What he's trying to ask is, did you engage in premarital sex with Kim Namjoon and/or any of his associates?”
Yixing drops his head. Jongin looks kind of mortified but kind of amused at Chanyeol's immediate response, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
“That is not what I’m asking.”
“No? So you’re worried about my hypothetical kid now?”
“Ok. Chanyeol, drop it. Let’s get back on track.”
But she likes this track. She doesn't see the point in dropping it yet.
"If you’re taking the misogynistic route, at least do it right. Don’t be a half-assed piece of shit, it’s pitiful.”
“Rina.”
“I’m not finished, Suho.”
A quick oop follows.
"I get it. I know what this is about. I see you. You're still dealing with your abandonment issues, but that’s not on me."
Chanyeol's face drops.
She carries on, no remorse. "What? You think you're special because your daddy wasn't around to play ball? Give me a break."
“Jesus. Ice fucking cold.”
A sharp grating sound. He forcefully shoves his chair back.
“Hey, hey–”
“Park Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol stands up at full height and others follow. Jongdae tries to talk some sense into him. Yixing doesn’t hesitate to do the same when she mirrors Chanyeol's stance, arm extended in front of her, shaking his head.
Sehun seems to be out of little quips. Like him, Minseok remains seated, looking at the scene from the end of the table.
Poor Jongdae, he's still trying. “Sit down, man. C'mon.”
But Chanyeol's not listening, his jaw is locked in, teeth gritted together. Finger pointed at her, spit spraying in the air.
”You let us all think you were dead.“
"I had my reasons.”
She’s trying her best to not lose it against his stupid loud voice that takes up the room. Her head, her shoulder, her back, they all hurt. She should’ve left the moment she woke up, barefoot.
Chanyeol throws his arms in the air, growling.
“Your reasons? To let everyone mourn you for what? A decade. What the fuck is that about? Who does that?”
“I'm sorry, what’s the acceptable protocol for you? Enlighten me.”
“Dude, you’re seriously not asking that.” he winces, like he'd rather not look at her. “Kim Namjoon, seriously? That was your only option? You. Everything you tried to preach to us. Looking down at us, talking about better ways and shit, like you were some kind of paragon of virtue."
“Ah, fuck off. Seriously, fuck off." she repeats with closed eyes, an exhausted mantra. "Don’t selectively bring shit from the past into this."
"Was that just to make yourself feel a little less bad about, huh? About getting Yuan killed because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut?”
It feels like the air was sucked out of the room. No one was ready for that, perhaps not even Chanyeol. For a fleeting second he looks like he caught himself off guard.
Jiah lets out a shaky, hoarse little laugh, mumbling to herself. "You don't know shit. Not even now."
"You know you can repeat that all you want but that's still the truth."
“You wanna talk about the truth? The only reason I was there that night was to warn you, but you treated me like I was out of my mind. Everything I tried to tell you would happen, happened. That's the truth,"
Silence, she's not done yet.
"And then you got in that stupid car and sped down the fucking street,"
Not even near.
"You didn’t look back. You had the chance to leave it all behind and move on with your life while mine wasted in jail. But now you wanna act like I owe you an explanation?”
There's no way they remember that night as vividly as she does. Every tiny detail, the smell of shitty sewage water against her face, the weight of some asshole’s knee on her back pinning her to the street, the overlapping of people yelling in panic. Red and blue lights blinding her. Blasting sirens.
“I don't blame you. I fucked up time and time again and it’s not like you could’ve done anything to get me out of it.” she admits.
“That’s right. You fucked up and we fucked up. So you decided that was it? You couldn't reach out for help or at least contact us? Did you not think of the consequences of letting people believe you were dead?”
She can’t help the bitter smile, half of her wanting to ask Chanyeol what he knows about consequences, but he’d mistake that for her wanting to hear an answer. Ten years later it’s not something that interests her.
"Pretty much, yeah,” she replies shamelessly, after a moment of consideration.
“That easy, huh?”
“Honestly, I was miserable back then. I was a kid, I only had you, I thought I could fix it, but everything kept getting worse.” she says, and the dam has not cracked yet, but it might. Any second now. “So yeah, after the fire, when I realized I had the choice to start over, I took it. That part? That was easy, yes.”
Chanyeol blinks at her, like he's not sure he's looking at someone.
“I was very careful. Don't think this situation here happened because of me being sloppy. I never planned to see any of you again, and I was at peace with that.”
She wants to carry on but her throat feels raw, and Chanyeol’s breathing through his mouth. A couple of fat, anime-like tears spill down his cheek.
The dust has settled and it's clear that the room has shifted. Yixing was just sitting right next and now there’s some distance between them, like she’s exuding toxic fumes. Baekhyun looks like a kid with glassy eyes and a red nose. It’s too late to take back, it’s all out of her chest, too heavy to cage it back up.
“I do have a question though, why are you wearing my rings?”
Kyungsoo stands up, walking past her and stopping just to throw something on the table. The metallic rattle is enough to let her know what it is.
“They meant something,” he replies, chillingly calm. “Back when we thought you were dead.”
“But now that I think about it, I don’t think you made it out of the fire.”
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