"What business do we have here, Taehyung?"

My question floated in the air unanswered, as it was overtaken by Ethan's loud exclamation. "OH.MY.GOD!"

Oh my god, indeed. 'Cause what in the name of Christ were we doing in this giant cyber-coffee-met arcade? I mean, I needed a bed, a huge pot of ice cream and a few shots of plain vodka. I did not need to be bothered with keyboard clicks and video games. Nah-uh. The doctor hadn't prescribed that for me at all. I stood at the threshold and took in the place in all its galore. The lights faded into bright purple and neon blue. It was a situation where the atmosphere couldn't be described as dim, but bright wasn't the right word either. I lifted my gaze and looked at Taehyung as the neon lights reflected in his eyes. His attention was on Ethan's reaction, not noticing my prying eyes for a few seconds. When he noticed, he just—what the hell? He was smiling? At me? What inspired him to do something like that? I certainly wasn't throwing jokes at him. As a matter of fact, I was upset about this whole debacle. I was sure it was written all over my face.

Ethan backpedaled, stopping right in front of Taehyung and me. He schooled his expression, pulling a seriousness I'm sure no ten-year-old kid was capable of. "See, Mr— what was the name again?"

"Ethan!" I all but screamed his name. I really shouldn't be dealing with a kid in my condition. What I also shouldn't be dealing is with a man who listened to a child.

"He's good," Taehyung reassured. The smile on his face was still beaming, but this time it was directed at Ethan. "Let him be."

"Not many people grow on me," Ethan continued, undeterred by my rebuke. He stood next to Taehyung and waved him into the cybercafé while patting him on the shoulder as if inviting him to have a cup of coffee in his castle. "Inaya is one of them, but — um, how should I put it? She doesn't know how to have fun. You, sir bossman, on the other hand, know where to have fun. I like you. Please show us around."

I was beginning to worry about Taehyung's well-being. He was laughing way too much. They say that when a person suddenly changes, they die. Was he terminally ill? Would it be insensitive to ask him such a question? I followed them with my mouth open, I had no doubt that my jaw was following us too. And then it hit me right in the heart. Taehyung wanted to make sure the boy was okay. He still didn't know what exactly had happened between Yoongi and I, but he must have drawn some answers seeing how Ethan and I were wandering with our suitcases. I ran a hand through my hair and smiled as I looked at their backs. Ethan had certainly forgotten about the fight he'd witnessed, and I was relieved and grateful for Taehyung's help.

"We gotta teach her, then." Taehyung offered as he sat down behind a computer and pulled out a chair for Ethan. He didn't need to be asked twice. He was already booting up the computer when Taehyung turned to me with a questioning look. "No invitations are handed out here, Inaya. Whatcha waiting for?" He pointed to the seat next to him with his big eyes. "We're getting started here. Get your butt in the seat if you want a head start."

With a huff, I slumped down in the chair, turned on the screen and gave Taehyung a sideways glance. "As if I need it."

Turns out, I did need it. I lost every game with fashion, but I didn't give up. I kept my head up, even though my self-esteem was at rock bottom. Taehyung and Ethan were just as serious. Ethan was winning, and my bet was on Taehyung letting him. Bowls of ramen and onigiri kept being delivered to their posts, along with refreshments that I was sure the waiters hated them by now. When I took my eyes off the game and looked at them, I liked what I saw. Ethan was happy, just like a boy his age should be. And I wondered if it would have looked the same if Yoongi had devoted some of his time to his son instead of obsessing over the booze. The boy deserved some of his father's affection. He did everything he could to earn it, be it good grades or excellent behavior. He never got into fights at school. Never asked for what his family couldn't give him. He did everything in the belief that his father would reward him with his attention and care if he behaved properly, and that in itself was fucked up. No child should fight for their parent's attention. That's something that should be a given. I've often argued with Yoongi about how he behaves towards his son. Needless to say, my words were like sandcastles against the waves. He was convinced that the right place for his son was with his grandparents, and I couldn't disagree more.

"I'm bored," I shouted so they could hear me over the headsets.

"That's because you're losing," Taehyung stated the obvious as he typed furiously on the keyboard.

"All I'm saying is that we haven't tried the arcades yet." My words served their purpose, which was to draw Ethan's attention to me. He took off his headset after hitting enter twice. Taehyung did the same, but before he could say anything, Ethan raised his palm above his head and looked at him. "That was clean, bossman."

"The same goes for you, young man."

Taehyung took off his hood — yes, my boos had his hood on the whole time he was gaming like a geek — and high-fived Ethan. They both rose from their chairs at the same time and Ethan ran towards the arcades, while Taehyung held out his hand to me and motioned for me to follow Ethan. "Ladies first."

"You could've used the same concept and let me win at least once." I bantered, just for the fun of it. Just because it didn't feel like a new friendship anymore, but more like a bond we'd shared for years.

"Never heard of sportsmanship?" And he bantered just because he could. Just because this friendship was what he had been looking for. Maybe because he felt it too - this bond.

We tried out every game there was and laughed at each other's defeats. Taehyung sucked at the craw machine. I, on the other hand, got us three plushies. He made up for his loss at the ping pong table, which earned us vouchers for other games. Before we knew it, it was so late that an employee came to tell us they were closing for the day.

We were standing in front of Taehyung's car when I decided to break the comfortable silence that had accompanied us on the short trip from the arcade to the parking lot. "Ethan needs to go to bed and I'm quite tired too, so we'll get going."

"Oh yeah?" Taehyung shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and straightened his posture. The look in his eyes was playful — a challenging smirk. "And where exactly are you going to get a bed this late? Pray tell."

"We'll manage. It's a big city, after all." I matched his playfulness, and in this moment, I was caught up in an epiphany. Not only was Taehyung trying to distract Ethan, but he also managed to distract me from my misery. I didn't think about Yoongi and his lies and insults. I didn't dwell on my disappointment and anger. It was a temporary fix — even I knew that — but it was needed nonetheless. I hugged Ethan to my chest — he was yawning, completely exhausted— and looked at Taehyung to thank him for everything he'd done for us today, but the words stuck in my throat. He was looking at Ethan with such an intense look that had none of the ambiguity of his expression from this afternoon. There was a sadness in his eyes that I couldn't decipher. A yearning of sorts. The playfulness and endless laughter had been wiped off his face and replaced with an expression I couldn't find a word to describe. "Is everything okay?" I asked.

My words seemed to bring him back to reality. He quickly schooled his expression and looked at me. "It'll be okay very soon." I narrowed my eyes and quietly demanded an explanation. "You know, all this," he pointed at us with his hands. "Don't read too much into it. Just take my word for it, Inaya. Now get in the car, the boy needs some rest."

I got into the car, because what was I supposed to do? It was close to midnight; finding a hotel with available rooms that wasn't a motel or some kind of love hotel didn't hold a high probability. The drive was silent. Not in the uncomfortable way, but more in the way you'd feel comfortable in. No music. No noise. Just the relaxing hum of the engine. We took a road I didn't recognize to a destination I wasn't aware of, and I chanced a glance at Taehyung, who had one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the console between us. The look in his eyes was serene, as if he wasn't concentrating on the road, as if he wasn't even in the car. I turned my gaze back to the window and watched the light lamps and traffic pass us in a blur. I began to feel the weight of the years I had spent in oblivion. The lies. The emotions. I took a deep breath and hoped that exhaling would chase the thoughts away.

"What did he do?" Taehyung seemed to read my mind. But I wished he didn't. I wasn't sure if I was ready to talk yet. I wasn't sure if I ever would be. It felt humiliating to admit how naïve I was. It felt like an insult. Maybe the whole ordeal felt more like an insult than the real insults Yoongi tossed my way. I fidgeted with my fingers and buried my eyes in my lap. It was safe there. Far away from judgmental eyes. Far from pitying eyes, too.

"He lied," I confessed. The words left a sour taste in my mouth. The type that you need a tong scraper to get rid of. I didn't dare look at Taehyung. I had this image of him in my head that I didn't want to destroy. The image of a man who liked his stoic side. Rarely showed emotions, but his actions always screamed them. He had spared me the embarrassment when I told him what had happened with Jimin. It was a necessary evil that I had to put up with. I had to keep my job so I could bail Yoongi. Ironically, Yoongi had enough money to bail out on me. Now I was afraid of his reaction. Maybe "scared" is a big word and maybe it wasn't his reaction that scared me. Maybe it was the words I was afraid of.

"He cheated." The words, spoken with such ease, stopped my fidgeting with my fingers and drew my attention to Taehyung. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Occasionally, he'd glance at the rearview mirror. What caused my reaction was the way he enunciated the words. It wasn't a question. A statement more like.

"He didn't. He lied to me. For a long time." I felt the need to set the record straight. I hated to admit it even to my own self, but I didn't want to make Yoongi out to be the bad guy. I was defending him, even though this wasn't a court, and Taehyung was definitely not a judge. Still, I didn't want him to be blamed for something he didn't do.

"Same difference." Taehyung didn't spare me a glance, even though my eyes were burning holes in the side of his face. He turned on his blinker and exited the highway with his typical stoicism.

There were words burning at the tip of my tongue. Arguments. Lots of definitions of lies and deceit, but my mouth wouldn't play along. The words stuck in my throat, heavy and hard to swallow. Yoongi didn't cheat, but he lied to me from the beginning. Isn't that cheating too? I wished Taehyung had never given an opinion, because now his words were the only thing I could think about. And the worst part was that maybe he wasn't wrong after all.

"You're tight with the boy." The change of topic was god sent. I appreciated him picking up on the fact that the wound was still raw and bleeding and didn't need to be stung. "I don't think it's a wise idea to send him to his grandparents now that you're in a bad spot with his..." He stopped for a second and cleared his throat as if something was stuck there. "...Father. I mean, kids are sensitive to change. He'll feel neglected if you turn your back on him. Don't make him pay for what his father did."

Before my brain could process the words coming out of my mouth, I jumped to my defense. "I would never do something like that." I practically shouted the words. "He lives with his grandparents. He visits us from time to time, that's all."

Luckily, Ethan was asleep in the back seat. I wasn't keen on talking about such things in front of him. The boy had questions that all had to do with why he was living with his grandparents and not his father. I had no answers to give him, so the least I could do was avoid the subject altogether.

"Then why is he with you now?" Taehyung asked. We drove through a narrow, rural road. There weren't many lights in the area, just a few lighted houses every now and then. Fear should have kicked in by now, but it didn't and I found myself sifting through the reasons why I wasn't afraid. I came with one, and it seemed to be enough. If this man wanted to hurt me, he would have done it in his house when I spent the night there. I trusted him. But the fact that I wasn't afraid didn't mean I wasn't bothered by Taehyung's curiosity. I wished he'd stop this investigation already, but I figured he'd if I answered, so I did.

"It's a complicated, long story." Here, vague, but it's still an answer.

The car stopped in front of a house I didn't recognize. It was a country house with a small yard that had a swing set in it. It didn't scream luxury like Taehyung's house, but its modesty made it seem inviting. "Don't belittle my intelligence. I sure know my times tables. And as for the time," Taehyung killed the engine and looked at me with a smile, then jutted his head towards the house, "we still have the whole night ahead of us."

He was the first to get out of the car. He opened the back door, pulled Ethan to him and carried him between his arms to the house. And I followed him no question asked. But I had a lot of thoughts on my mind. Taehyung bonded with Ethan quickly, which made me wonder how he'd be like as a father. He reminded me of mine. Caring, protective and loving. He left the door open and I caught a glimpse of his silhouette as he rounded the corner of the stairs to the second floor.

The inside of the house was a stark contrast to the outside. The design screamed Taehyung in capital letters. Minimalist, yet crisp. Even the different colors between his main house and this house couldn't hide the fact that he hadn't had left much to say to the interior designer. This house was furnished fully in cream colors and red bricks. His main house was furnished fully in black and red bricks. I wondered if there was a reason he'd gone for a design that made his houses look like they were incomplete — as if workmen would come by at any time to paint - "his room is the first one just around the corner. Yours is the one next to it."

I dropped the empty photo frame I was examining and turned around as Taehyung grabbed a can of beer from the fridge. It wasn't my best moment, I admit. I'd been caught red-handed snooping around his house without his permission — or wait a minute, rewind. Was it without permission though? I mean, he brought me here. He wouldn't have done that if he had a problem with people's mundane curiosity. I cleared my throat and spoke casually. "Why keep empty frames around?"

He set his beer can down on the kitchen counter, and headed for the stairs. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Me too." God knew I smelled like shit. Maybe dodging my question was his subtle way of telling me not to litter the premises. He stopped in his tracks, and if I hadn't been paying attention, I would have banged my head against his back. I was following him up the stairs. He turned and looked at me with a mischievous grin. Wait again. Rewind the hell back. Wow! I never thought he'd be so childish. Go figure. Men.

"I meant my own shower; in my own room."

"You're the one doing the talking here." He shrugged his shoulders. "I just wanted to tell you that the towels are in the upper closet."

"Of course." Now it was my turn to scoff. How old was he? Thirteen? Jeez. I pushed him out of the way and led to the room he gave me. I couldn't hide my smile when I opened the closet and found the towels. I was glad I had called him after all.

As I dried my hair with the towel, I realized to my own horror that I hadn't taken my suitcase out of the car, which meant I had no clean clothes to wear. After careful consideration, I came up with the simple solution of wearing the same clothes and forgoing the underwear (I'd never wear a dirty pantie after a shower, thank you very much).

Taehyung's guest room lacked everything except a nice bed and nice furniture. I couldn't find any spare toothbrushes or toothpaste in the cupboards, so I decided to check the small vanity in the room, and that's when I saw it—them. On the bed was a gray Nike hoodie and black sweatpants. Right next to the clothes were a toothbrush, toiletries and slippers. I shook my head at his laziness. He could've just brought my suitcase instead. But I appreciated that he didn't let my skin crawl from disgust at the prospect of wearing the clothes I'd been wearing all day again. I appreciated his care, even if he didn't have to.

I checked on Ethan before heading down to the living room. The boy was in dreamland, so I left quickly so as not to disturb his sleep. Taehyung still had wet hair dripping onto his white tee as he stood in front of the fridge pulling on endless cans of beer. He turned his head when he heard my footsteps and followed my gaze that seemed to wonder if he had a brewery in that fridge.

"What?" He inquired. "We're drinking and cussing men. Sorority style. I found some Pringles and chocolate. No ice cream though. Get over it."

I followed him wide-eyed as he placed the beers on the small table in front of the TV. He plopped down on the floor, as if the sofa wasn't there to serve a purpose, and patted the spot next to him. "Whatcha doing? The beer's getting warm."

And boy did we drink. If I thought there were too many beers in this house before, I now realized there weren't enough. With each beer, I gave more of myself to Taehyung. With each sip, I emptied my chest as I emptied the can. I talked and talked, knowing I'd regret my honesty come tomorrow, but I didn't care. Right now, I just wanted to find peace by seeking answers from a stranger — or was he really?

"What makes you think he hid his identity because he was afraid you'd cling to him for the money? Maybe he had another reason."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe he leads a double life. It's not uncommon in our entourage, you know." I followed Taehyung's movements as he scooped and opened another beer, my mind reeling. "You said he's in the media business too." He clinked his beer with mine, which I held limply in my hand as my eyes focused on the patterns of the carpet. Suddenly his voice turned ugly — so ugly and so vicious, and fuck! So much like the voice of reason. What scared me wasn't his insinuation. Yoongi would never do something like that. We had something genuine going on. Okay — my bad. Maybe genuine isn't the right term, considering he was lying through his teeth, but there was no way in hell I was the other woman. What scared me were the thoughts that ran through my head. A double life. What if the man in front of me was also leading a double life? What if I was playing a part in it unbeknownst to me?

"Are you? Leading a double life, I mean." I heard myself say before I turned my gaze back to him. The beer hovered over his lips mid-sip. And for a second — a tiny, fleeting second - I shuddered in fear when I saw the look in his eyes. It was menacing. Dangerously reflective. But then he scoffed, and his lips curled into a smile before he continued drinking.

"I see you've questions, Inaya. Shoot."

"Who are you? Aside from the business, the wealth and the fame, who are you, Taehyung?" The alcohol had probably played with my head and instilled a silly, bold curiosity that I didn't need. But I couldn't deny it. I had questions and I needed answers. We weren't playing fair here. He knew so much about me. I, on the other hand, knew no more about him than what meets the eye and what he let on.

"I don't have a double life, no. I don't have a family to hide our lie about." He placed the can on the table and turned so that he was directly facing me. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the sadness creeping into his smile. I feared what he'd say next and wished I could take my words back. I don't think I wanted to know anything anymore. "I'm an orphan. Orphans have no stories to tell. We have no past, and like everyone else, we can't predict the future. So what you see is all there's to see. See, we keep it simple because we've already tasted difficult and we know it tastes like shit."

I swallowed my reaction with the bile rising in my mouth. I would appreciate it if the earth opened up and swallowed me right about now. There was a deep gash that I had scraped open with my nails, and now I watched the blood seep out. Taehyung kept drinking as if nothing had happened, as if he was fine, but he couldn't hide his reaction as well as he thought he could. His fist clenched around the can, his knuckles turned white and the can crackled. He tossed it next to the empty cans, smiling as if he the story he was talking about was someone else's.

"The empty frames—

"You really like to read too much into things, Inaya." He took a Pringles and handed me the can as if everything was okay. As if he was okay. As if I was okay. "The designer said I needed to add a few pieces, so that's what I did. Nothing more, nothing less, really."

But there was more. The frames weren't just here. They were also in his main house. Empty. Sad. Lonely, just like him. My heart ached for him. I had a family, but when death took them away, I felt abandoned. I could only imagine how he felt growing up all alone. I reached out to him and watched the alcohol in my blood turn to courage — the type that made me move closer and wrap my arms around him. "You've grown into a good man, Taehyung. You've done well. I'm proud of you."

His heart felt steady against my chest. Thud-thud. Rhythmic. My gaze lingered on the empty frame sitting on the corner table behind him, making me think about the void one must feel to hang empty frames around. I felt his arms tentatively wrap around my waist before I heard his voice resonate against my chest. "You should feel the same way about yourself. You don't need a man who's afraid to share his name and possessions with you. A man who is ashamed of you doesn't deserve you, Inaya."

I loosened the embrace just enough to look him in his eye. The look in them was genuine — so much so that it felt like a dagger in my heart. Was this what I had been reduced to? Someone people would be ashamed of. My eyes welled up with tears, my heart with anger. It was such an ugly feeling. Toxic and vengeful. And I hated it. I hated that I saw the validation in his eyes and not Yoongi's. I hated that our faces were so close that I could see the honesty in his expression. I hated that I liked it. On impulse, my hand came to rest on his jaw. His gaze wavered between clinical and curious, but it wasn't dismissive. I leaned closer. And I hated it. And I liked the power it carried. His eyes hooded as they sifted from my eyes to my lips. I leaned even closer. And I hated that I couldn't stop it. I hated that the thought of getting back at Yoongi crossed my mind. I hated that I was using a person I considered a friend to settle a score. But Taehyung kept saying and doing the right things, he made me want to feel what it's like to not be ashamed of. To be desired by someone powerful — someone who was in Yoongi's league, the league he thought I was beneath. I longed for validation. Somehow, I knew my self-esteem wouldn't recover if I didn't get it. My lips almost touched his when I felt his grip around my wrist; gentle, but firm enough to feel it and bring me back to reality.

Taehyung didn't pull away. His lips stayed just a few centimeters away from mine, hovering. His eyes looked at me intently. He let go of my wrist and stroked my jaw gently enough to ease the sting of rejection. God, what had I done? "You don't need a rebound. Inaya." His words were a whisper. His breath lapped around my lips as he inched closer, so close it felt like his mouth was encircling mine. It seemed like more than a kiss. It certainly felt like thousands. Sweat covered my palms, but I didn't dare wipe it off. I didn't dare breathe. Stupid, stupid girl. "And I surely ain't a rebound nor the side piece." He angled his face and opened his mouth, but he didn't kiss me. I wished he did. I wished he wouldn't. He brushed the corner of my mouth with his lower lip without completing the kiss. And it felt so intimate, it made me feel naked. "Wanna know why, hum? I'll tell you." I felt his mouth on my jaw, on my neck, leading to my ear, but his lips never touched my skin, even when his breath burned it. "'Cause I can only be the one, Inaya. No temporary fix."

He pulled back completely, leaving me motionless in my spot. He let me fester in my thoughts, in my regrets, in my vile shame. I didn't dare look at him when he stood up. "Go to sleep, Inaya. It's been a long day."

I didn't know sleep would come tonight.

first update of 2025! <3