“You might be wondering why I’m here trying to talk to… Well, you.” Miyeon raises one of her eyebrows, before she smirks a little. Minho doesn’t let it affect him, a tight grip on the beer in his hands as he locks eyes with Miyeon, not letting any emotion show.

In the past years Minho’s learned how to annoy Miyeon too, it’s a two-sided fight. Like a cat and dog.

“No, doesn’t really interest me at all.” Minho says, before taking a small sip from his drink. Disgusting.

He’s really not used to the taste of alcohol, sue him for being a well-behaved teenager.

Miyeon smiles at that, though, and turns around in the kitchen as she makes her way towards the table full of bottles of alcohol, her long hair braided on one side. The hairstyle looks perfect and Minho feels a little jealous, thinking about how her good looks got her Jisung. “I’ll mix you something good, you just wait until you taste this,” She says, and Minho barely hears her sickly sweet voice over the loud music.

Here she comes with the poison, trying to kill Minho.

Minho has hardly any time to empty his mind from all the unsettling thoughts before Miyeon’s standing in front of him again, pushing a cup into his hands.

“Try it,” She forces, a tight smile on. “It will make you loosen up, I promise.”

Minho knows he shouldn’t accept anything from this girl and he knows Miyeon can surely tell he doesn’t trust her either. “Do you really think I would do something to harm my, well,

brother-in-law

?” It doesn’t really sound like a question, but rather a statement. Her cheeks turn rosy in the dim lighting and Minho almost chokes on air when he realises Miyeon isn’t joking about this.

Minho drowns the drink in one go. It only burns a little bit.

“I hope we can leave the past behind us, Minho oppa. I mean you’re almost like a brother to Jisung oppa and I know it’s what he would want.”

Shut up shut up shut up.

“And considering he doesn’t have any other siblings, it’s really important that we two get along.” Like a punch to the gut. If Minho could let his dramatic side out right now, he would fall to the ground while gasping for air, eyes shining with unshed tears.

But Minho smiles, nods even a little at the girl in front of him. Even though all his mind has been repeating for the past minute is

brother brother brother brother brother brother-

Like a mantra.

But they’re not brothers.

Minho didn’t fall for his own brother.

“Can you make me another one of these?” Minho says much to his own surprise, shaking the empty cup in Miyeon’s face, his already blurred out vision making him miss the suspicious smile that spreads across Miyeon’s face.

“Sure.”

Minho’s leaning his whole body weight against the wall, his eyes drooped close as he hums to the familiar pop song. He doesn’t know how he ended up next to the dance floor, dance corner or whatever teenagers call it these days, but he knows he’s ready to show off some real moves.

He just needs to rest for a second. Just a small second.

A heavy hand rests on his shoulder and Minho’s eyes would fly open if it weren’t for the alcohol in his veins making him somehow so much slower than usual.

“Minho hyung, where have you been?” Jisung asks over the loud music, even leaning a little bit closer. He looks good and he smells good and Minho’s trying so hard not to say anything but again, he wants to blame the alcohol because it’s so damn fucking hard to stay quiet.

“Were you worried?” Minho feels himself slur the question out, the hand on his shoulder burning his skin.

You didn’t seem so worried when Miyeon literally dragged me away from you.

“Of course I was, you dumbass.” He says, no bite to his words and Minho feels even dizzier, if it’s somehow possible.

Jisung locks eyes with him and Minho tries so hard to not fall into them. His beautiful Jisung, standing right in his reach, looking at him like that.

“Well, you don’t- don’t have to.” Minho says, standing up straighter and making Jisung’s hand fall down. He misses the body heat already. “I’m not your fucking-”

“My fucking what, Minho hyung?” Jisung cuts between, his eyes finding Minho’s so quickly, even if Minho tries really hard to avoid any eye contact, and the serious look he gives Minho makes a shiver run down his spine. The effect the younger has on him is mind-blowing.

It’s then that Minho realises Jisung probably already knows. Jisung might have overheard them

or

the whole conversation with Miyeon might have been Jisung’s own idea, Minho doesn’t know and frankly doesn’t care which one of these options it is. Because either way it hurts just the same.

“Leave me alone, you don’t have to look after me,” Minho pushes Jisung further away and turns away from him, “I’m my own family, I can take care of myself.”

He heads straight to the crowd, not looking back once.

Minho’s never been in a more crowded place as the sweaty bodies dance and jump around him, trying to suffocate him. He would probably be dead by now if it weren’t for the alcohol bumping in his veins, keeping him alive and making him follow the others around him.

He feels himself letting loose, his body becoming one with the other drunk kids around him, probably just as fucked as him.

He tries not to think about how he hurt Jisung and how Jisung hurt him and how they’ve been doing this for years, even centuries, without giving each other a break. His thoughts really don’t go well with the hype music that’s blasting loudly, and so he pushes them far away, just like he pushed Jisung away.

He thinks his mind is playing tricks with him when a pretty girl from a class younger, with long legs and a skinny waist and really

really

 long hair that somehow shines under the light starts giving Minho more attention than the other guys around her, her arms circling around Minho’s neck as they sway together, super close to each other. Minho doesn’t really say anything to her, finding no harm in this as it seems just like casual dancing.

But when she turns around in his arms and starts grinding her ass against his crotch, Minho feels disgusted with himself. Suddenly, he feels like the jeans he’s wearing are too tight and he can’t breathe properly in this outfit.

“I don’t-I don’t wanna-” Minho leans over her shoulder, trying to talk to the attractive girl. If only someone turned the music down.

“You don’t wanna do it here?” The girl laughs, her unfocused eyes locking with Minho’s. She has pretty eyes, but they could never compare with Jisung’s. “Let’s go upstairs then.”

“N-No, I mean, I’m not-” Why is talking so incredibly hard? “I’m not really i-into you.”

The girl stops dancing instantly, facing Minho again but now with a forced smile on her lips. “Well, you think I’m ugly?”

“No, no, I mean-”

“Because I’m the best you can get, let me tell you that.” She furiously rambles, and Minho wants to run for his life as she looks into her disappointed and annoyed face.

“It’s not about you.” He wants to apologise but he doesn’t even know the girl’s name. He shouldn’t really care.

“You already have a girlfriend? Because baby I don’t care about that, trust me she will never find out.” She says then, the real smile returning to her face. Her eyes look hopeful again and Minho realises she’s not okay. Really not okay. And Minho can’t listen to this anymore. “I’ve seen you around in school, but you have never looked this good before, oppa. Let me make you feel good, I promise I’m better than your girl-”

Word vomit.

And Minho’s far too gone to stop it now.

“I’m gay.” Minho feels like the whole world just went quiet as he blurts the words out. Eveything stops, his heartbeat stops and the words echo everywhere around him. Did he really just come out to a stranger?

The said stranger takes a quick step back, her eyes looking like they’re about to pop out of her head. “You’re what? What the fuck?”

She looks like she wants to scream and for once Minho’s glad for the loud music. “You let me do that shit to you while knowing damn well you’re-you’re, well, you know damn well what you are! You’re fucking sick dude.” She turns around and storms away, somehow easily finding a way out from the crowd.

Minho doesn’t realise the consequences his words will have as he pushes himself past the kids dancing, far away from the mess. He needs to breathe, to take a second and close his eyes. Maybe act like this never happened.

He finds the balcony, and considering how the house was fully-packed inside, the place is weirdly empty. But maybe it’s finally Minho’s luck turning, because that’s what he wants and needs right now. A place where he can be alone and sober up as quickly as possible.

He stumbles a little when he tries to stand up straight, so he leans against the wall, the fresh air working wonders. He lets his eyes close slowly and deeply breathes in the cold air, trying to keep himself from having a panic attack.

Minho prays the girl doesn’t say a word about his sexuality. The fact that he’s gay.

He’s gay he’s gay he’s

gay-

But maybe Minho should’ve taken church more seriously, because this is definitely God’s payback. A group of boys Minho barely recognises from school suddenly opening the balcony door with a loud bang, like they had been looking for Minho.

“Heard there’s a fucking faggot here,” One of them spits, and Minho realises it’s one of the guys Jisung hangs out with.

Jisung.

“You really dare come here, huh.” He steps even closer, cornering Minho. His face shows no emotion, but he’s angry, Minho knows. Maybe Minho would feel more confident right now if he were taller. And weren’t completely alone. “And touch our girls with your dirty, dirty motherfucking hands.”

Minho wants to run, but the damned alcohol in his system has made him weak.

A little voice in his head tells him he has always been weak.

“I didn’t do anything to her.” Minho whispers, his voice barely audible in the dark. He wishes he hadn’t said anything though, because his voice seems to trigger the other.

“Don’t fucking talk to me, you fag.” He says, before Minho feels the guy’s fist connect with his face. To be more exact, nose. Minho’s eyes close instantly and he falls to his knees, grabbing his face and already feeling the warm liquid run down his chin. He’s bleeding, of course.

Atleast he doesn’t feel any pain. Yet.

“It’s that Changbin’s impact, huh?” One of them asks and Minho feels his blood boil. “He put some gay spell on you, didn’t he.”

The group of people laugh at him and Minho wishes the ground would swallow him because even at a moment like this, where he’s torn between collapsing and fighting back for Changbin, his mind goes back to thinking about Jisung.

How Jisung took care of him when his nose started bleeding after the nightmare. How he always helps him after those terrible sessions, even if he’s tired and really doesn’t have to. His Jisung. So kind and caring and helpful-

But Jisung will never speak to him again after this, he knows.

If only he had stayed home.

“Just let me leave, please.” Minho learns how to speak again, even if he doesn’t dare to open his eyes. It takes too much energy and he would probably end up crying. He hears the guys around him laugh again, and realises there’s even more people standing outside.

But of course no one’s helping him.

“Why would I do that?” Another kick at him, but this time he receives the punch in his lower stomach. Some screams, whistling and yelling, and Minho’s vision blurs out completely as he tastes blood.

He loses count of the punches he receives and realises he doesn’t even care anymore.

He feels like he has died already.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Someone yells and Minho only registers the sentence in his head because he knows the voice, knows the person. “Get the fuck away from him.”

Minho feels hands resting on his back as he stays kneeling on the ground, eyelids too heavy to even open them. Everything has started to hurt and the cold wind touching his scars doesn’t make it better, but somehow Jisung’s warm touch makes it more bearable. Jisung’s touch always works wonders.

“You’re really stepping out for a faggot now?” Someone barks, but Jisung seems to ignore them, because there’s no answer coming from him.

It’s when Minho feels another pair of hands touching him, softly grabbing at him that he moans in pain.

“Hyung, hyung are you okay?” Jisung whispers close to him and to Minho he sounds furious. “Oh, don’t you fucking touch him,” He hears Jisung yell over him and Minho has honestly never heard him this angry. The other pair of hands let go of him and Minho hears shuffling over him.

“Jisung, he’s my cousin, let him help.” Another voice. Minho doesn’t recognise it anymore, though.

“He could be the president for all I care, but he’s not touching Minho hyung.”

“Jisung, Woojin hyung could really help!” Minho notices how desperate and scared the stranger sounds, he ends up feeling bad for the guy. Minho must be the first person he’s seen getting beat up.

“Unless you have a car, I don’t see a way you could be helpful.”

“I do! I do have a car! Let me drive you guys somewhere far from here.” Another stranger says, with a deeper voice, before Minho finally feels himself giving him, feeling safer knowing Jisung is by his side. He blacks out and hits the ground, no strength in his body left.


Tim calmed down a little by the time they entered the sport center. Damian, along with Bruce, Talia and Ra's went to the changing rooms while the rest looked for seats. Because of Barbara they took the seats in the first row, for which Dick was really happy, but Jason and Tim couldn't help but make a face. Damian was competing in kata, kumita and kihon, all of them paced out thorough the whole day, and even if they didn't count the ceremony which will be at the very end of the day. And if they sat in the first row, it will be much more obvious if they fell asleep or started playing on their phone.

"It's not like anyone will care, too many people will be running around for them to notice just the two of you, so quit bitching," Barbara said from her place beside the row.

Jason sighed and threw his arms over Tim's shoulder to lean it onto his seat.
"I'm just saying, that when you want food, I'll be the first one to leave for it," he said as he leaned his head back. A woman behind them shushed them, giving Jason a very angry look, but the man only glared back at her.

"And you wouldn't even come back," Dick gave him a soft smile, before apologising to the woman behind them. He charmed her enough so she was paying more attention to him in the end than her kid who was performing the katas.

"And why the hell are we already hear? The brat will come on after an hour and we're supposed to sit here and watch the kids? Why couldn't we just come here later?" Jason asked and pointed at the  tatami where a new pair of kids took their places. They were around ten years old, and Damian was in another age category so they were nowhere near his turn.

Tim leaned against Jason's side and took out his phone.
"Because Bruce thought it would be better if we all came with the minibus because this was he knows that everyone is within the building," he answered, opening a file the man sent him previously. As much as him and Barbara tried, there was too much work with the Christmas merchtravaganza and with making sure everything went well, so he gave some of it to Tim.

"Great. Fucking amazing," Jason groaned and slid down on his seat. "Wake me up if I snore too loudly," he leaned a little more heavily against Tim.

"You guys have been so attached lately," Dick commented softly, giving them a gentle look. He didn't want to bring it up in front of Damian, not knowing how he would react in front his mother and grandfather. But now he wasn't there.

"I'm just making sure that creep stays away," Jason answered, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"So it's really him," Dick sighed catching Tim's gaze over the man between them. Tim nodded his head softly.

"But Ra's isn't here right now," Barbara commented from Dick's other side. She Pulle doubt her laptop from the bag she hung on the back of her wheelchair. She opened it up and turned it on with a few quick movements.

Jason gave her a death glare.
"You seriously want to have this conversation now?" he asked. Barbara barely glanced at him from the corner of her eyes with a smirk dancing on her lips.

She shrugged.
"I'm just pointing out facts," she said, opening a document she was working on.

"I need a smoke," Jason moaned with a pained expression on his face. He rested his head on the back of his chair.

"You only have so many cigarettes on you and we'll be here the whole day," Dick sing-sang, obviously enjoying the situation. He clapped along with the crowd when this pair of kids finished their routine.

"This is hell," Jason murmured. Tim patted his thigh in commiseration before turning back to his work.

Clark arrived with Jon a few minutes before Damian's first number, so by the time the boy stepped onto the tatami, they were sitting beside Tim, both cheering loudly when Damian stepped onto the tatami. Damian's eyes widened slightly when he saw them in the first row, but then he quickly scolded his face into a frown before wiping his face completely void to focus on his task.

Eventually Bruce also joined them when Damian only had one last presentation to do. Jason and Tim took the chance to get some food for both themselves and the boy, leaving their seats for the first time in hours. His legs felt numb as Tim stood up, an she clung onto the other for a little to stabilise himself. They came back with a vegan burger for Damian and two bags of stuff for themselves, decidedly ignoring that Dick has also asked them to get him something. Tim eventually gave him his fries to shut him up.

Ra's and Talia took their places, so Tim sat onto the ground, leaning back against Dick's legs, to put some distance between himself and Ra's even in these last minutes. He had less than twenty hours to go, and even if Damian continued to bitch about everything, Tim could see how he was enjoying the attention a lot.

He bitched how the kids around them were loud and nobody knew anything about karate, yet he answered every single one of Jon's questions and took him around the venue. He hated how the parents were filming their children left and right, and yet he made sure to show off a little more whenever he saw that Bruce was watching. It was both hilarious and endearing in a way. It proved that even though he was a little weird, Damian was also just a child at the end of the day.

Damian acted like a king as they made their way home. He told everyone where they could sit (meaning that he sent Tim and Jason into the back so he could sit next to Dick), demanded extra food for his pets for that night and they ate his favourite meal that Alfred prepared for the special occasion.

Neither of them were the least bit surprised when the gold medal was placed around the boy's neck. He would've beaten anyone there, and just as Talia has commented, restraining him into his age category was humiliating. But even so, Dick engulfed Damian into a bone crushing hug as he gushed about how good he was and so on, and Barbara called ahead to let Alfred know how to prepare for the night.

Talia and Ra's weren't even the last bit impressed with him, and they made that very clear. Bruce and Dick kept shooting them warning glances, but the two kept on ignoring them. If it hurt Damian, he didn't show it.

Tim locked his door after himself when he went to bed. He knew better than to try and go work downstairs when Alfred was out for him. Less than twelve hours to go. If he was lucky, he may even be asleep when Ra's and Talia left and wouldn't need to see him again. And even if he wasn't so fortunate and someone woke him up before then, he would only a few hours left if he survived the night.

He wrapped himself tightly into a blanket cocoon even he will have a hard time getting out of, so no one else would pry away his blankets, before he closed his eyes.

****************

The mattress dipped in beside him and Tim's eyes snapped open. His heart went from zero to one hundred within a second, his breath caught painfully in his chest. He closed his door. He locked his door. And yet as he lifted his eyes from his pillows, he saw Ra's al Ghoul sitting by his side. The man didn't touch him, he was just sitting there, watching over him.

"It's a bit over one in the morning. I honoured your request, Timothy and kept to myself during Damian's day as foolish as I think it was," he started. The moonlight highlighted the gray locks in his hair, his white dress shirt seemed to shine in the dark. It may have been just the play of the lights, but he seemed completely unaffected by the late hour.

Tim sighed. He, on the other hand, was tired. He sat up in his bed, still keeping his blanket-wrap around himself.
"Don't you think this proves that you may have some sociopathic tendencies? No normal person would wait up for this loophole," he said, pulling back against the headboard so there was some more distance between them.

"I think it would be wise to quit insulting me before I get angry, dearest," Ra's said, moving slightly closer to Tim. "I think we have already established that I am stronger than you and can use that power over you any time I want. I don't want to have to resort to force this time, my heart," he said, grabbing the blankets and pulling them away from Tim's body.

"What do you want, Ra's? I don't want to make a scene, but I'll yell and everyone will be here within seconds," Tim tried to pull his blanket back, but Ra's yanked it from him before he had a chance to make any movement. He fell forward as the material was pulled from underneath him, and then Ra's hand was back at his neck. Tim's eyes widened and his pulse sped up once again. His head knocked against the headboard as Ra's slammed him back against it, climbing over him.

"You don't want that, sweet," he murmured softly, leaning into Tim's face. The moonlight reflected back from the poison irises, and Tim suddenly understood how a tiny mouse might feel when facing a snake with its jaw unhinged. Ra's finger kept on caressing the vein on his neck, strumming against it gently with every pulse. Tim didn't even dare to breath, and slowly but surely spots started dancing in his vision.

"I'm going tell you what's going to happen now, dearest. You're going to be the good boy I know you can be when you're not acting rebellious. You're going to quietly pack a bag of your essentials, and we are going to leave. I've already arranged the plane for us," he said, giving Tim a soft smile. He gave Tim an affectionate peck on the forehead. "You're perfect for me, darling. I only need you to see reason and quit your childish games," he said, and even if his tone was gentle, there was an underlying warning in it that didn't skip Tim's attention.

Tim opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Ra's fingers were still pressing down on his pulse with every heartbeat in his chest. He couldn't breathe, as if hundred bricks weighed down on his chest. But Ra's was leaning closer, his eyes never once breaking away from his and Tim felt like he was going to throw up, even if his stomach felt to be the size of a child's fist. He forced himself to take a shaky breath.

"Help! JASON! HELP!" He screamed out as loud as he could, before starting to trash in Ra's hands. "ANYONE! HELP! Please..." the last bit came out a bare whisper as Ra's pressed down on his throat again, grabbing it just to slam his head against the headboard again.

"I warned you! Keep quiet and obey the rules I set! This is ALL I asked you to do, and I will give you the world!" he snarled. He lapped Tim across the face, not minding how Tim's fingers clawed into his hand that held his throat. Tim's cheek throbbed, the back of his head pulsate, and tears of frustration leaked from his eyes. He was powerless in the man's hold.

But instead of slapping him again, Ra's gently took Tim's face into his hand, caressing his cheek softly.
"When will you learn? I don't want to hurt you, dearest. You make me do this, and I..."

"And you will take your hands off him before I shoot you in the head," Jason's voice was steady and deep, and Tim let out a sob. Ra's turned towards the door, his hand still holding Tim's throat. And to Tim's terror, Jason as holding a gun.

Ra's chuckled softly.
"You don't think this seriously, child. Put that down before I take it away myself," he said, like he was talking to a naughty kid.

But Jason only clocked the gun.
"Try my, asshole," he growled. His hands were steady, his hold perfect.

"Jason, put it down. Please, we don't need to take this that far," Dick said as he stepped into the room. He lifted his hands into the air to show he wasn't armed.

"I'll put it down once he steps away from my boyfriend," Jason said, not even glancing at Dick.

As much as Dick wanted to push Ra's away from Tim, he couldn't make a move until Jason was holding the gun.
"Please, Jay. You can't do this to Damian. Isn't that why you guys kept this a secret?" he asked.

Ra's pulled Tim to the other side of the bed, still holding his throat with an iron grip. He pulled Tim in front of himself, putting the boy in the line of fire.
"Listen to him, Jason," he said, but his voice got overshadowed.

"Do what you need, Todd."

They all turned to look at Damian who stood behind Dick by the door.
"And don't think I didn't know. I overhead Drake telling it to Todd right after the original assault," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. He looked at them with a raised eyebrow. "Why do you think I wanted to be at Grandfather's house for two weeks?" he asked.

Tim's heart sunk. Damian knew and yet he still invited Ra's over. He knew the boy hated him, but he never would've thought it was to this extent. And by the broken look on Dick's face, he wasn't the only one who thought this.

" Dami..."

"I worked a bit overtime than my original schedule, but I still managed to find enough evidence to put him behind bars, even if Drake doesn't wish to testify, be it as foolish as it is," Damian said.

"What did you just say?" Ra's asked. Surprise mixed with rage in his voice, and even if it was only for a second, his hold weakened. And Tim went for it. He threw himself out of the man's hold, ignoring how Ra's finger jabbed into his vein when he tried to re-establish his grip. But Tim was already out, and he ran right into Jason who only let the gun down once he had Tim within an arms reach.

"I said that you're going to jail, Grandfather. I have found the messages you exchanges with numerous hitman and assassins to kidnap Drake next week, shall your attempt today not succeed. I also have your emails printed, in which you blackmailed the Drakes, threatening to leak Drake's info to the press. And let's not forget the evidence we have on photographs and multiple eye-witness testimonies that you attempted rape and physically assaulted him. And currently I don't even want to go into detail about the tax-frauds and embezzlement I found out about," he said, letting Dick step in front of him when Ra's stepped forward. He may be a martial artist, but with a gun aimed on him, and two another well-versed people in the room, even Ra's didn't try his luck.

"Father is already outside, leading the police here," Damian finished with a smug grin as he watched Dick bind Ra's hands behind his back with Tim's sheets.

"You're a disgrace to our name," Ra's spat as he looked at his grandson. They could already hear the police running up the stairs. He could struggle, but then he would've lost his dignity. It wasn't worth it.

"I don't care. I already have the papers filled out to change my name to Wayne," Damian countered. His expression was cold, his hands behind his back. He looked at Ra's like he was just shit on his shoes.

"So you're going to be marked with the name of sex-worker? Serves you right, shows your true value," he said, not even looking up onto the officer who took his from Dick's hold, clicking the handcuffs onto him beside the sheets.

"At least here we value consent," Damian answered, looking as Ra's was lead down the corridor.

Jason put his gun down and pulled Tim against his chest even tighter.
"Fucking hell," he muttered, pressing a kiss against Tim's dark hair as the younger clung onto his shirt.

"Shit..." Tim whisperer, burying his face into Jason's shoulder. He didn't care that the others were around, he didn't care that the police wanted to question him. Jason' scent overwhelmed his senses, his warm embrace made him feel safe again. He didn't even care for the gun anymore.

"Now, if I can interrupt, give me the gun, Jason," Bruce said, making them look up. He was standing beside one of the officers. He held his hand towards Jason.

The man rolled his eyes but gave it to him. Dick watched the exchange with slight horror written on his face.
"Why do you even have a gun in the first place?" he asked.

Jason shrugged as he put both his arms around Tim again.
"Stole it from set. It's the one we used for Red Hood. Made me feel powerful so I took it," he answered nonchalantly.
Dick winced.
"That... doesn't exactly make me feel calmer..." he whispered.

"Gentlemen, if I may," one of the officers stepped forward. "I need you all to come in to the precinct so we can question you and record your testimonies," he said, strumming his pen against his notebook. Tim turned his face away from Jason's shoulder to look at him, but Bruce stepped in front of them before he even had time to open his mouth.

"Alright. We'll drive there as soon as possible, just let us change into a more formal clothing," he gestured down his body to show that all of them were in their pajamas, standing barefooted in Tim's room.

The officer nodded.
"We'll be awaiting for you. Until then, we need to take some pictures of the room," he said, as another few men came forward, followed by a woman holding a camera. Bruce agreed, but Jason only snorted.

"Look, Timmy, you'll be on the police record as a slob," he commented with a demented giggle. Tim hit him on the chest.

"Shut the fuck up," he groaned but couldn't help the smile that sneaked onto his lips.

"Officer, who do I need to give the evidence I collected?" Damian asked as he turned towards the policeman. The man was clearly shocked at how the young boy spoke to him, so he sputtered over his words as he answered: "Me... Please, give it to me." Damian nodded before turning on his heels, but before he disappeared, Tim called after him. When the boy turned back, Tim caught his eyes.

He gave Damian a small smile.
"Thank you."

Damian frowned.
"Don't flatter yourself, Drake. I didn't do it for you," he answered and left before any more words could be exchanged.

Bruce sighed, and even if he tried to hide his emotions, there was a soft smile on his lips.
"Everyone dress up and get ready. We should leave as soon a possible, so we can come home early and get some sleep," he said, and patted Jason's shoulder before leaving. Dick looked after him, and almost left with him but then he turned back towards Tim and Jason and gave them a big hug. He squeezed the breath out of them, before pressing a kiss onto Tim's head.

"See you guys in a few," he said and ran out of the room.

"Idiot..." Jason groaned and shook his head. He looked down to meet Tim's gaze. They just watched each other for a second before Jason leaned down to press their lips together in a chaste kiss. "Come on, you can borrow my hoodie. Let's leave them to work," he patted Tim's lower back gently to lead him out of the room.


The low rumble of the train is peaceful. The heavy vibrations and even the occasional metallic whine as something scrapes against the track as distance closes between them and Cheongju.

She'd see her family again, and that's a warm thought. They'd get to meet Ryujin, which she knows will go over just fine. Ryujin is charming, and she knows the second they let her in the kitchen, she'll win everyone over. It's not even a concern she's entertaining.

These thoughts anchor her, along with the persistent hand holding from Ryujin. The way she toys with each finger boredly while staring out the window. Jungeun knew her attention would be on the book, so she'd forfeited the coveted window seat. As she goes over the section detailing Minji's death she wonders if maybe staring outside would have been the healthier option. Her eyes sting.

She sniffles, roughly swiping at her face quickly to catch a tear that'd escaped, but it's not missed by Ryujin who snaps her head over to look at her.

"You okay?" she asks, and Jungeun only nods, chewing on her lower lip while still reading over the lines. Ryujin gives her hand a little squeeze.

The chapter about Minji ends with the line: I never would have guessed that the worst thing to ever happen to me would be followed by the best thing that could ever happen to me.

And the following chapter starts with the story of how she broke Toshio's arm when she met Jungeun. Her breath catches in her throat. With just a few simple lines on a page, she has that Jinsoul shaped wound in her heart torn open again and it bleeds and bleeds and bleeds.

She tries to keep reading. She gets to where she mentions how happy she was when she got to stay and be friends with Jungeun after her name was cleared and the first time Jungeun fixed her uniform bow for her and she can't take it anymore. She closes the book draft.

When they finally make their arrival, they're given a warm welcome. Though Jungeun's mother can tell something is off immediately.

I'm just tired, she tells her, and to Jungeun's benefit, she backs off. It's not the reunion either of them were hoping for, but Jungeun makes a promise to herself to be especially sweet after she's been given an opportunity to shake off this feeling that's gripped her.

And as expected, Ryujin is immediately a hit. She's charismatic as ever and has them laughing within minutes of meeting, and the sound of it puts Jungeun immediately at ease. And while Ryujin is putting on the charm, she still spares that sliver of her attention for Jungeun. Maintaining that silent sort of reminder that she's there at a moment's notice if Jungeun needs her.

And she does. When they get to her parents' house and lug all of their things up the stairs to her room, she has to stop and cover her face.

"I don't want to be like this," Jungeun says, exasperated. Sad. "This is an important week."

Ryujin is there in an instant, holding her, kissing the side of her head and muttering reassurances that don't really sink in. But they're still nice to hear.

Pulling her hands from her face, Jungeun takes a deep breath and lets herself rest her chin on Ryujin's shoulder while she's held.

"You're gonna see Yerimie again and feel ten times better," Ryujin says confidently, and Jungeun thinks she might be right. They hadn't seen each other in a while.

Pulling back, Ryujin holds Jungeun at the shoulders and angles her head to try and connect their eyes.

"You're gonna be okay. We'll get through this week and make some happy memories with everyone. You shouldn't go living in the bad ones in that book."

Jungeun nods numbly. She knows she's going to read it again the moment Ryujin is out of the room.

She leans in, planting another noisy kiss on Jungeun's forehead with a loud "Mwah!" before letting her go.

"I'm gonna help appa with dinner," she says before slipping out of the room.

And, of course, the second she's out the door, Jungeun is fishing the draft out of her laptop bag and opening it as she sits on the bed. From where she continues, the book details her friendships with Jungeun, Jiwoo and Hyunjin and how they helped her cope despite never having known there was anything wrong. Something about it twists a knife in Jungeun's gut. She wishes she'd known.

There isn't too much focus given to her time in high school. Even if Jungeun would gladly read about how much Jinsoul preferred math to history, or about her favorite lunches, she knows these things aren't relevant to the message being delivered. Still, there's a heartfelt mention of Yerim that's kept that manages to make Jungeun smile.

Rather, the part focusing on her teens has more to do with her developing relationship with Kang, and the realizations they were having about themselves. Callbacks are made to sections in Kang's section of the book--Jungeun still doesn't bother to read the first half, though. It makes little difference to her what Kang went through. She cares only about the ripple effect it had on Jinsoul.

Though Jungeun finds out she's the reason Jinsoul had begun to question things. Sure, she'd started looking at girls a little differently in the locker room, or when walking down the hallway. But she didn't link feelings to it until Jungeun had come to join her in high school a year later.

The realization that the two of them had been quietly pining for each other for that long makes her laugh. It's certainly a mirthless sort of laugh, though. Again and again, Jungeun was becoming aware of how cruel the fates are. But in a way that almost has her smirking. Oh if only you knew, she thinks, reflecting on little fifteen year old Jungie.

Explicitly, it mentions that she realized she was in love with a girl when this girl was taken by someone else. Jungeun remembers Haseul. Remembers how Jinsoul was suddenly there when she needed her most during the breakup.

And then the book mentions Busan.

Not... in any great detail. And for that, Jungeun is grateful. But it's mentioned all the same. Treated as a place that mattered a lot to her and how her memories during that time are something she thinks about every day. It makes Jungeun's chest tight.

Closing the book, Jungeun remembers their game. She remembers her walk on the tightrope.

She remembers not knowing anything and believing the wrong things. Believing what Jinsoul was saying, but not what she was showing.

She swallows dryly, her breath feeling too hot in her throat as she tucks the book back into her laptop bag. She can smell dinner is almost ready and thinks to finally get back downstairs. She hadn't seen her family in months after all.

♡♤ Three years earlier, New Years Eve ♧♢

The sidewalks feel so packed. So cramped. Despite the chill in the air and the snow starting to fall again, Hyeju feels too hot, too stifled. Her eyes burn as she pushes past people, weaving through them. She thinks she hears someone call out to her.

Depravity. Morality. Dignity. The words all stung. Worst of all, the look on Jungeun's face. Horrorstruck and humiliated.

Hyeju didn't think people like that existed anymore. Not outside of bantering politicians with an agenda--and maybe that's exactly what he was. Hyeju couldn't know. All she knows is that this was the reality she'd have to face if she wanted to be happy. If she was going to be honest with herself.

She thinks of Hoseok. That boy she didn't even dignify with a breakup. She wonders if she could meet another like him and settle into a quiet life where people like that loud man back at the exhibit couldn't make a mess of things. She wonders if she could pretend to be happy with some boy for the sake of keeping a healthy relationship with her parents. She wonders why her happiness has to come at a cost.

And she stops. The heat built up in her chest and throat and eyes suddenly burning up from secondhand humiliation into anger. Into a defensiveness. Into a want to protect people like Jungeun who are too scared to speak up for themselves. She wants to turn on her heel and find that man and make him pay.

Instead she finds herself frozen. Stuck on inaction. What does she do? How is she even meant to feel about all of this? God she wishes Sooyoung was there to tell her.

"Hyeju!" she hears, and suddenly realizes she did have someone calling after her.

Worst of all, it's Chaewon.

Out of breath, she stops in front of her, fixing Hyeju with a look that's somewhere between angry and concerned.

"What are you doing?" she asks and Hyeju wishes she had an answer.

"I can't do this," Hyeju finally says, fear winning out over anger.

Chaewon does a double-take, puzzled. "Can't do... what?"

"This!" Hyeju answers, raising her voice, frustrated as she gestures between the two of them.

Chaewon recoils, hurt, and the sight of it forms a lump in Hyeju's throat. She can't look at her. She feels like a coward.

"So... What then? We're over before we even get started?" Chaewon asks, half smiling in disbelief.

Hyeju doesn't answer. Looks up and away, swallowing down the lump, but it refuses to leave.

There's a hurt, mirthless laugh out of Chaewon when she realizes she's not even going to be dignified with an answer.

"Unbelievable," she mutters, but a moment after she steps closer, grabbing Hyeju by the lapels of her coat. It catches her attention and she looks down at Chaewon, finally facing the angry sadness in her eyes. She didn't think Chaewon cared enough to feel so strongly--but here Hyeju has no choice but to face it.

"I didn't wear you down to walk away with nothing," she says bitterly, and it's all the warning Hyeju gets before she's pulled down and Chaewon kisses her. It's fast, and for a split second Hyeju actually reciprocates. It stirs up such an intense conflict of emotions at once but the one persistent thought is how she doesn't want things to end like this.

But Chaewon steps back and Hyeju watches her. Sees the disappointment and the... heartbreak? She doesn't wanna believe it's heartbreak written on her face.

Then again, why does she feel compelled to follow? To take it back?

Instead she just watches. Rooted to the spot as the head of blonde hair disappears into the crowd.

/\/\/\/

"Did you ever find Hyeju?" Jungeun asks as Sooyoung takes her coat for her.

"Nah. I'm sure she and Chaewon either went off to be alone somewhere or she went to give that asshole a piece of her mind."

"Right... Long as she oka--Wait what am I doing here?"

Jinsoul and Sooyoung both stop and look at her like it's the weirdest question to come up all night.

"Jiwoo's not back," Jinsoul says, like it's the obvious answer.

"Huh?"

"You hate being alone," Sooyoung supplies, completing the thought, "You also just went through something kinda..." She pauses for a second, toeing off her shoes, "I don't like to throw around the word traumatic, but..."

"Traumatic," Jinsoul says with some finality, Sooyoung making a noise in agreement.

Jungeun deflates a little. They aren't wrong. She didn't need a reminder of her humiliation. But Jinsoul immediately takes notice and closes the gap between them, grabbing her hands and drawing her to come sit on the couch with her.

"You'll stay the night with us. We'll watch movies, make you laugh and you can forget that guy," Jinsoul reassures.

Jungeun frowns. "I don't think I'll ever forget that guy," she mutters. But a second later Jinsoul kisses her. First on the cheek, then the forehead, then on the lips and then just all over. A rapid fire kiss machine, making Jungeun giggle and sputter until she's leaning away and Jinsoul is on top of her, unrelenting.

"Ugh. God, you guys are gross," Sooyoung says, though there's a layer of affection to it as she flings the blanket from the back of the couch over them. "Can you scoot over so I can sit please?"

Jinsoul finally eases off, pulling Jungeun upright, though just as Sooyoung is about to sit, there's suddenly banging at the door as someone frantically starts beating.

"... Who the hell?" Jinsoul mutters, looking to Sooyoung for answers who shakes her head and shrugs. The both of them rise, though Jungeun grabs Jinsoul's arm a second later in a quiet bid to make her stay close. Sooyoung gestures for them to stay put as she approaches the door to check the peephole.

"The fu--" is all Sooyoung manages to get out before she's flinging the door open and pulling the person inside. Jungeun quickly recognizes the coat as Hyeju's, though her knitted cap is pulled low and her scarf is around her face.

"What are you--" Sooyoung goes to ask, but cuts herself off when Hyeju pulls her hat off, revealing a nasty rugged looking wound on her forehead, like she'd be knocked into a concrete wall--or a sidewalk.

"What happened?" Jungeun asks, sitting up and watching over the back of the couch.

Sooyoung quickly helps Hyeju pull her winter layers off, saying nothing. Though even at a distance, Jungeun can see the poor girl is in distress. Tear-streaked face, bloodied forehead, and once the scarf is gone, she can see the flaked blood under her nose. She looks like she got into a fight.

Sooyoung gets her onto one of the barstools and remains wordless as she gets a wet washcloth to clean the blood from her sister's face. Jungeun can see her touch is just the right amount of rough to clean, making Hyeju recoil just barely, but she sits as still as she can. Though the longer Jungeun stares, she realizes: Anyone who'd known Hyeju for more than a few minutes can tell those tears weren't out of pain.

Once she's satisfied with how much she'd cleaned her up, Sooyoung gets rid of the washcloth in favor of the first aid kit. Then comes the question.

"What happened, Daechu?" she asks, and Jungeun is caught off guard by how gentle it is. She almost feels bad for listening.

Hyeju doesn't answer at first, and then there's a hiccup and Jungeun realizes she's started to cry again. Something about seeing the tough younger sister get emotional draws a reaction out of her and she unconsciously reaches for Jinsoul's hand.

"I got scared," she explains, her voice low and stuck in her chest, "And then I got angry."

"Will you tell me from the beginning? Are you in trouble?" Sooyoung asks, her voice still so gentle as she carefully gets gauze taped over the wound in her forehead.

"That man. The one who started yelling. Freaked me out," she explains, her sentences short because it's clearly hard to string together the thoughts and produce them audibly. "I left. Chaewon found me and I told her I couldn't do it."

"Hyeju..." Sooyoung murmurs, almost cooing but clearly trying not to lapse into being condescending or infantilizing.

"She was upset. And I got upset at myself for hurting her. Then I saw him."

The air in the room suddenly grows tense.

"... You saw him?" Sooyoung repeats, "Outside? And then what happened?"

Hyeju chews the inside of her cheek for a second and looks away before finally getting to the explanation they'd been holding their breath for:

"I tripped him."

"Oh my god..."

"Then I got on top of him and punched him in the face a couple times."

"You WHAT?!" And this response comes from two people: Sooyoung and Jinsoul. While Sooyoung sounds mortified, Jinsoul sounds... almost impressed? And a little amused.

Hyeju looks between the two of them, acting a bit like a kid who got caught stealing a candy bar.

"He shoved me off and I hit the ground hard. He tried to grab me, but I slipped away and ran like... I don't know, five blocks to shake him? Then I got a cab here."

Sooyoung brings her hands to the sides of her face, looking at Hyeju with wide-eyed disbelief. Meanwhile, Jungeun thinks Jinsoul wants to high-five her.

"For fuck's sake, Hyeju... He-- oh my god. He probably reported you to the cops. You could be expelled."

"... Can I lay low here for a little while?" Hyeju asks in a small voice, earning a groan out of her older sister.

"What kind of a big sister would I be if I didn't harbor my criminal little sister?"

/\/\/\/

Yerim doesn't know why she thought getting the late train home would be a good idea. Something about spending extra time with family, probably, but as she's dragging her suitcases through the school courtyard and up the dorm steps, she suddenly regrets everything.

To her surprise the dorm is quiet. Usually even at midnight, there'd be noise coming from at least one of the rooms, but she figures since she came back a little early, maybe the party monsters were still back home or out in Itaewon.

Though she does notice one of the girls standing outside a room, poking her head in, talking softly. And she realizes she's looking into Chaewon's room. When she gets closer, she recognizes her--Yujin, a taller girl who had the tendency to be a bit of a worrier despite her cool exterior.

Conveniently, she pulls back just as Yerim approaches.

"What's going on?" Yerim whispers, Yujin jumps, not having heard her approach.

"Oh, Yerim-unnie. It's Chaewon. She hasn't left her room all day. She won't tell us what's wrong."

Yerim frowns at that.

"Will you talk to her?" Yujin asks, brows upturned and hands pressed together as though to plead.

Of course I will, Yerim thinks, as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. She holds out the handles of her two suitcases.

"Go roll these into my room for me. I'll take care of her," she insists. Yujin whispers a fast thank you and immediately takes the suitcases, scurrying down the hall to Yerim's room. Everybody knew where her room was--half of the first years practically thought of her as their own big sister.

She gives the door a couple of soft knocks before quietly turning the knob and nudging it open. Inside, she's met with Chaewon, who...

Honestly, she's too pretty to be this sad, Yerim thinks.

Yerim finds her sitting on her bed with nothing but a dim lamp on, but it's enough to see the tear streaks down her face and how puffy her eyes are. There's a little waste bin next to her bed full of wadded up tissues and Yerim's heart breaks.

"I'm fine," she says, her voice nasal and an octave lower than usual.

Yerim doesn't wait for permission. She steps in, closing the door behind her carefully--being mindful of Chaewon's sleeping roommate.

At first, she comes to sit on her haunches in front of Chaewon at the side of her bed, reaching forward to hold her hands. Chaewon doesn't pull away, but she doesn't meet her eyes.

"Talk to me," Yerim says softly, giving Chaewon's hands a soft squeeze.

Apparently the tiny nudge had been too much. Chaewon grimaces, taking her hands from Yerim's and covering her face. It catches Yerim off guard and she quickly gets up on the bed to hug her from the side.

"What happened?" she asks, though it takes a few minutes for Chaewon to even pull her hands from her face.

"Hyeju..." she starts, and Yerim braces herself, "Doesn't want anything to do with me."

Now that's just not true, Yerim thinks, but obviously she can't say that.

"Did she say that?"

Chaewon nods. "We were at Jungeun's exhibit on a date and some old man said some things that scared her. She ran away. When I chased her down she said she couldn't do it anymore."

"What...? What did he say??"

Chaewon grimaces again, another wave of emotions hitting her.

"Stupid stuff. It doesn't matter."

"No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," Yerim quickly says, hugging her a little closer for a second. "Hyeju likes you, Chaewon. I think she just got scared..."

She shakes her head, looking down at the tissue in her hand.

"She made her choice. It's fine. It's not like we were that close."

Yerim takes a deep breath, tilting her head into Chaewon's for a moment. Even if she was trying to play things off as no big deal, the evidence was already mounted in the other direction. Clearly Hyeju meant more to Chaewon than she could have expected.

"Don't give up, okay? We'll talk to her."

And once again, Chaewon shakes her head. And Yerim knows she can't be reached anymore. Not tonight at least. So she gently takes the tissue from her hand, dropping it in the waste bin and moves the tissue box to the edge of her nightstand, still within reach.

"Get some sleep, okay? I wanna take you to breakfast tomorrow."

Chaewon nods numbly and doesn't protest when Yerim flips off the lamp and sees herself out. Though Yerim nearly walks directly into Yujin the second she gets out.

"Oh--"

"Is she okay?" Yujin asks, brow knit with worry.

... Well if Hyeju won't date her... Yerim muses, letting that thought float away.

"She will be. She's getting some sleep now."

Yujin looks past her at the door, seeming to consider an option before giving it up.

"Thanks unnie. I've been worried about her."

Yerim smiles warmly, but then shoos her off in the direction of her room.

"Go, go. It's late and you'll worry yourself sick," she insists, earning a giggle out of Yujin before she sees herself off to her room. Then, Yerim pulls out her phone.

CYr: Baby
CYr: Please be awake
CYr: I need to talk to you

Hyunjin responds with a gif of a cat with its legs tucked under its body, face down in the carpet.

CYr: Chaewon and Hyeju broke things off

KHj: Huh?

CYr: Hyeju broke things off bc she got scared

KHj: Is everybody bad at having a relationship but us?

CYr: You didn't even know we were dating

KHj: ...

There's a solid minute long pause.

KHj: Aeong...

CYr: Make it up to me and talk to Hyeju. Talk some sense into her!!
CYr: And please eat something if you haven't
CYr: I love you

And to cap off the conversation, she sends a string of hearts and sparkles. Very Kim Jiwoo of her.

KHj: I'd like to make it up to you other ways too
KHj: :)

Yerim's mouth falls open at that and it takes her a moment to realize she's just been standing in her dark dorm room with her phone in hand. The message, innocent as it might seem on the surface, had managed to ignite a number of thoughts Yerim preferred to save for when she was alone.

/\/\/\/

"I should come over more often," Hyeju mutters, digging her spoon back into her omurice. Naturally, staying with her sister meant she was being treated to some pretty good food, and she's come to realize just how much garbage she's been putting in her mouth compared to the kinds of things Sooyoung can throw together in half an hour.

Sooyoung approaches from behind, flicking the back of Hyeju's head with her free hand while the other scrolls through her phone.

"What I've been saying," she grumbles with a sigh before taking the seat next to her.

Hyeju grunts angrily in response, food in her mouth. Sooyoung and Jinsoul both had been making a habit during their waking hours to periodically check their phones for any news regarding crime reports. Hyeju was effectively under house arrest until they figured out how serious this was going to pan out.

"Ah! I found something!" Jinsoul calls from the couch, Jungeun stretched across the cushions with her head in her lap. She shows it first to Jungeun who bursts out laughing, then to Sooyoung who comes to stand behind the couch.

"Assault occuring on December 31st at approximately 10pm," Sooyoung reads, "Gwan Hangyeol, a local politician, reported the unprovoked battery to the police, stating the assailant is likely still at large."

Sooyoung then bursts out laughing, "Perpetrator described to be male, approximately 188 centimeters and 90 kilograms."

Hyeju, with food still stuffed in her cheeks, looks up, blinking.

"Hang on. Hang on," Sooyoung says, still laughing as she taps something into her phone. A moment later she's laughing even harder.

"It is him!" she howls, showing the search results for Gwan Hangyeol. Sure enough, it's the same man from the exhibit. Apparently he was on the city infrastructure board or something equally boring. Hyeju doesn't care. She just thinks his face is infinitely more punchable when he's smiling for the camera.

Scoffing, Sooyoung pulls her phone back, pocketing it.

"He probably didn't want to admit his injuries were from a girl," Jungeun chirps, earning a thoughtful noise out of Jinsoul.

Sooyoung nods, "I think that's exactly it. Daechu is a free woman." She holds up a finger, adding, much more seriously: "But if you ever do something like that again--"

Hyeju waits, starting at Sooyoung, food still stuffed in her cheeks.

"Call me, dummy."

/\/\/\/

Stepping into her dorm, Hyeju is relieved to finally be back in her own space. Much as she's come to enjoy spending time with Sooyoung, she's not sure how much more of Jinsoul and Jungeun she could stomach. Not after what happened with Chaewon.

"Oh good, you're back," Hyunjin greets, sounding a bit more chipper than usual. It immediately puts Hyeju on her guard and she looks up to see her getting off her bed. that also has Hyeju perplexed. Was she going in for a hug?

But then she sees her reach back--

WHAP.

With hardly a second of warning, she swings her pillow directly into Hyeju's face, almost knocking her off her feet.

"Idiot," she says coolly, and yeah. Alright. Maybe Hyeju deserves that.

She fixes her hair and sets out a sigh, staring Hyunjin down, trying to wear her out fast with a classic Hyeju glare. But, it has absolutely no effect. Hyunjin stands ready, pillow coiled back, ready for another swing, and a huge smile on her face.

Hyeju realizes: She doesn't just have this coming.

This is revenge.

She holds a hand out to try and block the angle the next swing might come from.

"What did you say to Chaewon?" she asks with saccharine sweetness and Hyeju suddenly feels dread wash over her.

"... I told her I couldn't do it, becau--"

Nope. She's not allowed to finish. And Hyunjin swings the pillow from above so she can't block with her hand.

WHAP.

"Fucking-- Kim Hyunjin! Let me explain!"

Nope. WHAP.

This time swinging in from the side so once again Hyeju can't block. Rather than trying to stop the assault, she brings both arms close to her head to keep the blows from hitting her face. Hyunjin can't stop grinning.

"You finally--"

WHAP.

"--meet a nice girl--"

WHAP.

"--who takes you out for sushi--"

WHAP!

"--and you throw it all away!"

Hyeju tries grabbing the pillow, now getting to her own boiling point. She already feels awful for the way she ended things. She can't stop thinking about the way Chaewon kissed her. Now she has to suffer through this?!

But Hyunjin manages to wrench it out of her grip, winding back for another powerful hit, but holding it there.

"I got scared!" Hyeju says, serious this time.

"Scared of what?" Hyunjin asks in a low voice, threatening.

"There was this asshole that showed up and started saying all this stuff. It made me realize that people like me--"

"Us," Hyunjin corrects, and something about it stings. In a single word, Hyunjin made a point of calling Hyeju a coward.

"... People like us aren't allowed the same right to be happy."

"So you think breaking things off with Chaewon is going to make you both happier?" Hyunjin asks, almost mocking. And Hyeju knows she deserves it.

And that's the point that really makes it sink in.

Hyeju doesn't want another Hoseok. She doesn't want to fake anything so shitheads like Gwan Hangyeol are more comfortable.

Hyeju wants an annoying blondie that gets under her skin.

Hyeju wants Chaewon.

"You're gonna talk to her, right?" Hyunjin asks, pulling Hyeju from her thoughts.

"Are you gonna hit me again if I say no?"

And Hyunjin feints, causing Hyeju to reflexively bring her arms up again as she flinches.

"Yes! God. I'll... talk to her during practice or something."

WHAP.

"Good!"

/\/\/\/

Returning to class after the exhibit feels... odd. Jungeun knows she did well, but she's also certain word has spread about her humiliation. And if not by now, then certainly by the end of the week.

And, inconveniently, the moment class ends, her professor calls her over, meeting her in the middle of the class before leading them both off to his office. While she manages to keep a calm facade, her insides churn with anxiety as the door closes behind them and he shutters the blinds.

"Here's this..." he murmurs, gesturing to a set of for pictures carefully bubble wrapped and leaned against the wall, "They saw that your work was taken down after the exhibit, though Mr. Lee himself stood in your place, singing your praises after you'd taken an early leave."

Professor Boem comes to stand behind his desk, hands folded plaintively in front of his stomach like he has something he needs to say, but feels awkward about it.

"He also wanted me to extend his deepest apologies once again, for what happened."

Jungeun remembers Hyeju and the incident report they found and has to restrain a smile.

"Please tell Mr. Lee that I'm alright, and that I don't blame him at all for what happened."

That seems to quickly assuage any lingering anxieties and the professor relaxes, finally finding his seat and gesturing for Jungeun to take the one across from him.

"I hope that you'll forgive the informality of this meeting," he starts, and Jungeun almost wants to laugh, "But, I have to admit I'm a little too... excited to simply keep the news to myself while I wait for the actual award certificate."

"Award?" Jungeun asks, confused.

"Yes, they've begun making calls for which students will be welcomed to join the exchange program in the event any of those students were looking to make any transfer plans or changes to their living situations."

Jungeun's mouth falls open, and Professor Boem purses his lips to hide a smile he can't fully restrain.

"It probably goes without saying, but you've been chosen early, Jungeun. Along with a second year culinary arts student."

Jungeun's breath suddenly gets caught in her lungs, mouth still hung open as she tries to quickly work through the disbelief.

"I'm going to Japan?"

The professor grins, chuckling low. "If you choose to accept, yes. I'd recommend seeking out a Japanese tutor."

An invasive thought enters her head as she's reminded of Nako. It makes her chest ache. She hopes she's well.

"I don't even know what to say," Jungeun blurts, which stirs up an even louder laugh from the professor.

"Well, hopefully you'll say yes, but give yourself a little time to consider, hm?"

/\/\/\/

Slipping into the auditorium, Hyeju pulls her sweater off over her head, leaving her in just a loose t-shirt and sweats. It immediately annoys Chaewon that she finds herself staring. That she can't help but notice how good she looks.

Hyeju shakes her head to straighten her hair, running a hand through it, feeling how messy the wind had blown it. She apparently feels eyes settle on her as she approaches, her nose still a tiny bit swollen and the gauze on her forehead isn't placed well. She looks like she just got in a fight.

"What?" she asks gruffly, and immediately the rest of the dance team straightens themselves out.

Except Chaewon, who stares with a mixture of contempt and interest. She didn't think Hyeju would show up again. She'd even had a discussion with Jinsoul prior to this that they may need to adjust the routine to make up for Hyeju's absence.

Instead, she's shown up. And now she has to deal with being in her arms again.

It makes Chaewon's stomach lurch and she considers leaving. Until she catches a strangely encouraging look from Jinsoul.

Her frustration comes in the form of a sigh and she knows her movements are a bit stiffer than normal when the music starts. But Hyeju seems oddly determined. Each run-through, she hoists Chaewon up with practiced ease, and razor precision. Even if she hadn't been a dancer before this, she continues to move like she has something to prove.

It makes her chest feel tight each time. Hyeju makes such prolonged, intense eye contact and Chaewon has to swallow back the urge to stop and fix the gauze on her forehead.

She hates the way she's gotten under her skin. How Hyeju's ice has slipped into her veins, giving her chills every time those eyes meet hers.

The moment practice is over, she puts space between her and Hyeju, fetching her water bottle and phone to make herself seem occupied as she cools down. Though she's not given the chance to even unlock her phone before Hyeju's shadow is darkening her corner.

"Can we talk?" she asks bluntly, wringing her sweater between her hands. It's weird seeing her nervous.

Chaewon takes a deep breath. She doesn't want it to show that she'd spent the better half of two days crying. Over someone you had one and a half dates with, she thinks bitterly, What's that even about?

"You said enough the other night. I get it," Chaewon says, not dignifying her by looking her in the eye.

"... Please," she says, much quieter. Much sadder. It makes Chaewon's stomach twist painfully.

Don't do it. Just get over her, she tells herself, against every urge to just say yes.

"Please."

She turns on the balls of her feet. It's so sudden it startles Hyeju.

"You get one minute," Chaewon says. Then Hyeju takes her hand, pulling her backstage, away from the rest of the team.

"I'm sorry," she starts, eyes pointed at the floor, "I got scared and what I said was stupid."

Chaewon almost wants to dig the knife in a little deeper and tell her just how much it hurt, but she doesn't. She listens.

"I still haven't completely figured myself out. I had a boyfriend I didn't care about, then I had feelings for Yerim and then you... you got under my skin and I can't stop thinking about you."

Something we have in common then, Chaewon thinks, and she can feel the rime on her heart beginning to thaw. She almost hates how effective this is. In so few words, even.

She finally meets Chaewon's eyes and she's not prepared for it when she continues. "Hyunjin made a point. That not being with you isn't going to make either of us any happier."

"What makes you think being with you makes me happy?" Chaewon counters, and she knows it's a defense mechanism. Hyeju was tearing down her walls too quickly, so she opts for ballistics.

A half smile tugs up the corner of Hyeju's lips, it'd be a smirk if it didn't look so goofy. So lovestruck.

"Do you sit in the grass and tell everyone about how much you miss your family? Or how you want to write your mom's biography?"

Chaewon opens and closes her mouth. Admittedly, she hadn't ever told anyone that last part.

"Do you normally kiss someone goodbye when you're mad at them?"

"Don't get cocky."

"I'm not. I'm hoping you'll do it again. Without the goodbye part."

It's definitely been longer than a minute. And a tension comes to live between them at that last part that Chaewon can't ignore.

"Will you give me another chance? A third date?"

She's not sure why, but her eyes feel hot again. Some part of her doesn't want to believe this is happening.

"... You're buying. Don't mess it up this time."

/\/\/\/

It was one of the rare occasions where Yerim had homework to do on her own. Specifically for a literature class. Hyunjin and her couldn't very well read the same book and write the same report, so this time they'd have to work separately.

Not that Yerim minds! She loves spending time with Hyunjin, obviously, but working on separate assignments also gives her an excuse to go elsewhere. Hyunjin loves her routines, loves their table at the library and orders the same thing every time at the campus coffee shop, and sometimes getting her to move outside of these little routines of theirs is a bit like pulling teeth.

So she'd taken advantage of it. During their last date when they'd walked along the Han, she'd spied a quaint little coffee shop advertising homemade donuts and wifi. It was only a short bus trip away, and there's something soothing to her about watching the people outside the window go about their lives.

So much so that it's actually a bit of a distraction from her homework. But at least the donuts are good.

"Hi, excuse me," comes a voice next to Yerim, making her jump. She finally tears her eyes from the window to the source and she actually catches her breath at the sight of her. Black hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and features so so sharp. At a glance, she almost looks like one of those girls that knows they're prettier than everyone else. But with her upturned brows and nervous smile, Yerim is immediately taken by how gentle she seems.

"Is it okay if I sit with you? Just for a little bit. This is one of the only tables with an outlet and I..." She holds her laptop awkwardly in front of her with the coiled up power cord. It takes Yerim's brain a second to catch up before she's quickly scrambling to clear the space in front of her.

"Please, of course!" she says and the stranger lets out a sigh of relief as she takes the spot.

"Thank you so much. I don't normally do this, but there's an electrician over at my shop and--" she stops herself, smiling even wider and Yerim can tell she's so nervous for some reason. It's immediately endearing.

"I... Yeah. Thank you," is all she says, cutting herself off as she quickly flips open the laptop.

Yerim watches her for a moment. Almost transfixed until she realizes she's staring. Doing that gay thing she'd been teased about by her classmates back in high school when she'd get hung up checking a girl out and have to literally shake herself out of it.

Yerim was never made for closets. You can't look at pretty girls inside a closet.

And she can't explain why, but she wants to talk to this girl. Thankfully that's one thing she's always been good at. Even as a kid, she'd make friends with strangers--much to her mother's chagrin when they'd be out grocery shopping. A lot of strangers had their pant legs tugged on. Yerim just has so much to say.

"Are you a student?" she asks, skipping all pretense and smiling with her coffee brought up to her lips, "I feel like I'd remember seeing you on campus if you were..."

The girl looks up at the sound of Yerim's voice, seeming surprised to have someone talk to her.

"A student? Oh. No, I didn't really get the chance. My mom got sick."

Oof. Yerim winces, mouth open, ready to sputter an apology.

"Oh, she's okay now! But I've decided to take over her shop, so I'm sort of... skipping college, I guess," she says sheepishly, a little nervous laugh leaving her that sounds so pretty.

"Oh thank goodness," Yerim says, deflating into her seat dramatically for a second before sitting upright. "What sort of shop is it?"

"Ah... It's..." She turns her laptop screen to face Yerim, showing her the virtual shop front of a florist--the same one she'd passed on her way here, in fact.

"You're a florist?" Yerim asks, eyes alight, earning another smile out of the girl, who nods.

"Yeah, we grow a lot of our own flowers. We also teach flower arrangement to stay-at-home moms, but mostly we attend funerals, and weddings. A lot of weddings."

Yerim leans in, so much more invested now.

"I love weddings."

The girl's face immediately goes pink and she brings a hand to her mouth, giggling at Yerim's sudden enthusiasm. "Me too! It's why I decided to take over."

"My mom was a seamstress back in Cheongju, so she got commissioned to alter and fit a lot of wedding dresses," Yerim sits upright, folding her arms over the surface of the table and leaning in. The two of them go back and forth, discussing their favorite things about weddings, and exchanging anecdotes. For her new friend, her love is appropriately grounded in the flowers and the theater of it all. She puts a lot of thought into the meanings of the flowers used in the ceremonies when couples come for consultations.

Meanwhile, Yerim's love comes from the outfits. Obviously the both of them are children from their roots, but there's an appreciation and a curiosity from both ends as a result. They talk and talk and Yerim learns the meaning of at least five flowers and she shows her new friend some pictures on her phone of some of the dresses her mom helped alter.

"So I'm guessing you're a design major?"

The question makes Yerim sit upright. She hadn't decided yet, but she was quickly approaching the point where she'd have to pick.

Maybe this is her turning point, she thinks.

"No, I uh... I haven't decided yet, but..."

The girl grins, but there's no nervousness there anymore. A little shy, maybe, but so earnest. Then Yerim remembers her manners.

"We've been talking for..." She checks her phone, "Two hours?!"

"That long?" she asks, similarly disbelieving.

"I haven't even given my name, I'm so sorry. My name's Yerim."

"Yeji," she says, gesturing to herself. "It's nice to meet you, Yerim."


It was late and Magnus was already getting ready for bed when he heard someone knocking at his door. He sighed exasperated, wondering who on earth would bother him at such an hour, but he got up to open the door. “Alexander?” he asked, pleasantly surprised, when he saw who it was. “I thought you had to attend your parents’ dinner party?” Magnus knew Alec had been dreading it for weeks because it would be the first one in which he wouldn’t have his siblings by his side.

“I did,” Alec confirmed and he looked quite shacked. “I left early,” he explained.

“Early?” Magnus couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that escaped him. “It’s almost one a.m.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here so out of the blue,” Alec apologized and no, that was not what Magnus had meant. “I can come back another time,” he said, turning to leave.

Magnus caught him by the arm. “Stay,” he asked quietly. “You know you are always welcome here,” he added when he saw the other man remained unsure. He kept holding his arm until Alec nodded then he smiled and stepped aside to allow the taller man to enter his apartment. “Do you want something to drink? I have tea, and coffee.”

“Something stronger maybe,” Alec answered and Magnus’s suspicions were confirmed, something was definitely wrong. He desperately wanted to ask what it was but he knew Alec would tell him when he was ready. He had come to Magnus’, after all. So instead of pushing he just got the vodka and made a couple of cocktails, one with far less alcohol than the other.

“Here,” he said handling that one to Alec who had made himself comfortable in his couch.

“Thanks,” the other man answered drinking half of it in one go.

“Wow, slow down, tiger,” Magnus joked, trying to get Alec to relax. “It’s not like we are on a hurry.”

“Sorry,” Alec grimaced. “I just had a rough nigh,” he explained looking intensely at his glass.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Magnus asked trying to convey that it was also fine if Alec didn’t want to. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

“It’s just my parents, you know,” he started sounding so sad Magnus' heart broke for him. "They are always so obsess with impressing their friends and colleagues. And I usually try to avoid having to do the impressing because Izzy and Jace are great at dazzling people but tonight it was only me so I had to sit there and answer endless questions about my career and my future and about when am I going to find a nice girl.” His voice grew bitter at the end. “Luckily, Lydia was there and she stood with me when I had to do the rounds. It was getting almost bearable until mother made a joke about how Lydia and I should get married because we work so well together, even though she knows about Lydia and John,” Alec kept going, his voice growing more and more anxious. “So Lydia told her that she didn’t think her boyfriend would like the idea. And I just knew mom was about to make some comment about how beneath all of us John apparently is and I was just so fed up with everything that I, well...” he stopped himself, drinking what was left of his cocktail. “I may have said that I didn’t think my boyfriend would like the idea either,” he ended looking sheepish.

“You did?” Magnus was torn between being delighted and worried. “I’m so proud of you,” he told him causing Alec to smile shyly. “How did she take it?” Magnus asked, already dreading the answer when he saw how Alec’s smile fell.

“She just... She laughed,” he told Magnus sounding extremely hurt. “It wasn’t a joke and everyone knew that but she just pretended it was, made a comment about me always kidding around and resumed her conversation.”

“Oh, darling,” Magnus said placing a hand comfortingly over Alec’s. “I’m so sorry”

Alec stared at their joined hands, unable to meet Magnus eyes. “I always knew she wouldn’t like it, specially not if I blurted it out in front of everyone she knows. But she just dismissed it, completely. Like it was something she could decide it didn’t exist. And dad just didn’t say anything, didn’t try to contradict mom.” His voice broke. “I’ve always done everything, Magnus, everything that they’ve asked. And I’ve never complained. Ever. But I can’t do this.” He was sobbing now and Magnus moved closer, trying to offer him any comfort he could. “I can’t find a girl and fall for her, not now, not ever. I can’t do it and I don’t want to do it, not when I have you,” he added making Magnus smile. “I can do everything else though, I have done everything else, shouldn’t that be enough?”

“You should be enough, angel,” Magnus whispered. “You are enough,” he corrected. “And If they don’t see that then it’s their problem, not yours.”

“But what if I’m actually not good enough?” Alec moved his eyes from their hands to Magnus eyes. “What if mom is right?” he sounded terrifyed and Magnus felt the urge to strangle Maryse.

“What’s your mother opinion on Izzy?” his boyfriend asked him. “About her clothes, her relationships, her desire to study to be a forense pathologist?”

Alec blinked confuse. “She doesn’t like it,” he answered slowly, like fearing it was a trick question.

“She disapproves,” Magnus confirmed. “She doesn’t think Izzy is good enough either, then. She thinks there are things Isabelle should change about herself. Do you think she’s right?”

“Of course not,” Alec sounded insulted. “Izzy is perfect,” he stated causing Magnus to smile.

“And so are you,” he told him making his cheeks blush. “And your mother is wrong about you, Alec, just like she is wrong about her. You’re more than good enough. You are amazing. And that’s my opinion, and Izzy’s and Jace’s. Okay?” he asked and Alec just smiled at him. “And really, if someone is not good enough it’s her. It’s a wonder the three of you have ended as great as you are with her parenting skills if you can even call them that.” Magnus scoffed.

“I... You... You are amazing too,” Alec stated, surprising Magnus. “I... Thank you, Magnus,” he told him smiling bashfully. “Can I stay tonight, please? I really don’t feel like facing her, yet.”

“Of course,” Magnus smiled. “I told you, you are always welcome here.”