"Good feels bad, bad feels good. The whole world is upside down, I'm in trouble."

~EXO

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Watermelon crystals slip through my field of vision like erotic dancers, heads lolling and tongues flicking in eager invitation. Pink petals, green foliage, the eyes of the concrete jungle mold my mind to their liking. I try to channel the void for my own protection, but the wonderment of your face brings me back into real-life much too quickly.

I behold Taquero Mucho, the restaurant best known for its all-pink theme within its four walls, including pink tortillas. (and pink margaritas, if you're feeling frisky.)

In my mind's eye, I can already see Jimin searching for the restaurant that looks most like a Hello Kitty wet dream while Yoongi stands in the background rolling his eyes. And, as much as I would like to test my newest chainsaw on him, I can't disagree.

All around me, I see hipsters trying to get the perfect angle for their followers, shoulders straight and staring vapidly into the camera with eyes that scream for mercy under the weight of moving time. Their food goes untouched until they have something worthy of showing to the world. Pink bar chairs obscure mimosas and bouquets lined up in neat little rows. I bet even the shitter's aesthetic.

"Isn't this the best place you've ever seen?" you say with a delighted laugh. The grimace I previously held on my face transitions into a forced smile.

"It matches your hair," I say. You nod, then look up at me with feigned innocence.

"You wouldn't mind taking a few pictures of me after lunch, right?" you ask.

Why don't you stab me to death with pitchforks while you're at it? Better yet, I'll do it for you.

"Of course not, love."

A light voice flutters through the air to land on us. "Y'all! Over here!"

We turn to find Jimin in a booth waving us over with his companion nowhere in sight. It takes everything to keep in my relieved sigh at the revelation that Mr. Daddy Issues won't be here to fuck everything up for me.

Maybe he realized that his hubris got the best of him at the tea shop. Maybe he thought it would be too much work to keep up the charade. Hell, maybe he even went back to Gangnam where he belongs-

But alas, a mop of blond hair pokes out from next to Jimin as we get closer, and I'm met with a familiar smirk that makes me imagine how good his face would look with a broken nose.

Fuck me.

Jimin stands to greet us, and he does a dramatic double-take of you. Even without looking, I can feel you blush from next to me.

"This must be Naomi?" he asks, and you nod, looking nervously at me, then back at him.

Hm. Tacky restaurant, brazen men, a petite girl as the cherry on top. Sounds like the perfect set-up to a gang bang. Not that I'm into that kind of thing.

"Wow, I can't believe Taehyung's deprived me of your presence for so long." Jimin ogles you with hungry eyes, and I feel Lucifer grinning in my chest before plunging back down to His depths; he could never be a threat to my prospects. After all, it was I who made sure of that.

On the other hand, Yoongi can't be bothered, looking more interested in the stray pieces of lint coming out of the booth cushions. I almost feel pity for him; not knowing that his genuine aloofness is doing less for him than he knows. He doesn't know the trick, to be the person everyone thinks they have figured out. Inventing your own personality to wear for the day.

(smile like you're being watched. always.)

"Oh, so he's talked about me, huh?" you ask as we sit on the opposite side, eyebrow raised and looking over at me with a playful smirk.

"All the time. The man is clearly whipped. I haven't seen him dress this well since..." The gleam in his eyes dulls for a split second before re-igniting itself. Now is not the time to reflect on the past. "Well, since I met him."

"I'm sure that was an interesting affair," Yoongi says. Poor Jimin, looking nowhere in particular with a face that says don't think, no matter what. Know that it's not my fault, darling.

"Why do you say that?" I ask with a grin. The knife digs deeper. I wonder how good his dismembered body would look in a trash bag.

"Just a feeling."

"Oh, I'm sure."

You and Jimin look between us as Yoongi and I stare each other down like tigers fighting for hunting ground. It becomes harder to even breathe as the atmosphere grows frigid around us, but people like us think nothing of our surroundings, Naomi.

Only the prize to be obtained.

We don't notice the waitress coming toward us until she's right in front of our table, pen and pad in hand.

"You guys ready to order?" she asks. She has too many teeth.

"Yep!" Jimin replies, elbowing Yoongi gently to make him pay attention. Which he does. "A pink lemonade for me."

We go around the table with our drink orders—another pink lemonade for you, black coffee for me, milk for Yoongi (yeah, I don't know, either.)—then sit back as Jimin orders food for us. Never mind asking us what we want, since he tells us, trust me. I'm a professional foodie.

I can't help but think he wouldn't know dongchimi from baek-kimchi if it bit him in the ass.

"So, Taehyung tells me that you're from Korea!" you say in an attempt at idle conversation. Yoongi gives you a deadpan stare.

"Yes."

"What brings you to the states?"

"University."

"Cool! What's your major?"

His gaze never wavers as he responds, "Business."

I almost want to tell you to stop trying as your determined smile starts to lose its grip, but putting you in his path is a necessary part of our growth. See him for who he is, blind yourself to his signs.

Though, you don't mind if I have some fun with it in the process, do you?

"What made you want to go into business?" I ask.

His eyebrows furrow in an attempt to gauge what I'm trying to do, and he replies slowly, "It seemed like a logical course of action."

"Right. Shouldn't waste your parents' hard-earned money on a useless degree. Like music, or something."

He grits his jaw as I smile with ease. He really should practice keeping his emotions in check, especially in front of his doe-eyed lover.

"And I hear that you don't go to university," he says.

"Correct."

"Why is that? If you don't mind me asking," he says, but from the way he smiles afterward, he knows I do.

"It seemed like a logical course of action," I retort. Hearing his sentence echoed back at him, he rolls his lips together.

"How interesting." The tattooed dragon head on his hand threatens to pounce. I want to cut his fingers off one by one and hang them up to dry.

I narrow my eyes. "Indeed."

Jimin blinks at us, then turns to you with a grin, unfazed by the growing tension.

"So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm studying to be a psychologist," you reply, and his eyebrows shoot up. That's my girl.

"For real? Do you have any clients yet?"

You tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting everyone see how crimson you've become. Cute. "Yeah, but since I don't have my actual degree yet, it's like a trial run."

"Dope!" Jimin says, eyes lighting up. "Who's, like, the craziest client you've ever had?"

"Oh, I'm not sure if you guys would wanna hear anything like that..." you trail off.

"Come on! We love a good psycho story!" he insists. You grimace at the last words but continue anyway.

"Well... There was this one guy who came in for one session, but I don't think he was there for the therapy. Really well-spoken, but robotic, almost, like he learned how to emote the day before. A bit defensive throughout."

Hm. I guess I'm not that unique in my failings as a normal human being, then.

"What did you guys talk about?" Jimin asks.

"Normal stuff. He recently came from another country and didn't have any therapy records from there, but that's all I know. There's one thing that made him different from all the others, though."

You look to see if everyone looks sufficiently interested, then smile as you twirl your straw. I find myself holding my breath like a child underwater, and Jimin leans forward to hear what you have to say, studying your slender fingers around the plastic. Yoongi continues scrutinizing the decals on the wall.

Finally, you say, "I'm almost positive he took a photo of my older client's folders when I was out of the room."

You've told this story to Lily and Hoseok before. Why is he so important to you?

I copy Jimin's flabbergasted expression, and even Yoongi's attention seems to have been piqued a little.

"That's insane!" Jimin exclaims. "Did you report him or something?"

"Well, there's no proof that he did it, but I'm not usually a paranoid person, either." You shrug, then take a shaky sip of your lemonade. "I just... He looked rich. Like, new-money rich, so why would he come to me, an entry-level psychology major, to do something a licensed psychiatrist could have done 100 times better? I don't know. Seems fishy to me, but I could just be going insane."

My eyes flick to Yoongi's as the puzzle piece clicks into place, but I almost wish I had never found it. Cold terror crackles in my heart, where it has no right to plague me. It forces me to confront the reality that I am not in control of my own chessboard, that I never had control in the first place. The reins eclipse even Yoongi's gaze, dropping themselves at the mercy of my brother. As they always have.

After the fear comes the guilt in a tsunami that drowns the former in obsidian waves designed to crush anything resembling dominion in its wake. Paying attention to you, I neglected to check my father's schedule for a few weeks. My error is not lost on me; the one time I let the retirement home handle anything regarding his health, this happens.

And you. You invited Seokjin in. Willingly. Did you think about fucking him, too? Is that what made you trust him enough to let him get the information he needed? The same thing that endeared me to you could have pulled him in, too, and he's not as gentle as me when it comes to his conquests. He would watch you burn alive rather than see you leave his side.

As much as I can't afford to do so at the moment, I can already imagine what I'd do to my brother once I get my hands on him. And then it's your turn, darling.

"Uh, you guys there?" Jimin asks, and Yoongi and I both turn, stupefied.

You tilt your head at me and furrow your eyebrows.

Are you okay? you want to ask.

But I can't begin to answer.

Yoongi clears his throat. His Adam's Apple bobs enticingly.

"Uh, so, Jimin. Aren't you fostering a dog, or something?" he asks. Awkwardness easily forgotten, Jimin nods and pulls out his phone.

"I was wondering when I'd have to bring it up!" He begins droning on about the breed and how it has 5 names so far because he can't choose just 1 to go with. No matter how hard I try, the mask won't slip on with its usual ease. You hold my hand under the table and lean on my shoulder. I keep myself from flinching.

I want to pin you against the wall and choke you until your perfect makeup runs and makes a mess all over your clothes. Until you apologize for every sin you've committed in your life. Until you apologize for being my ruin.

I grasp your hand back.

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안녕 여러분! I hope you guys liked
this chapter! What do you think
will happen next? Any theories?
Let me know!

QOTD: did you ever have an
embarrassing phase when you
were younger?

One word: Vocaloid. And I'm still
not over it lmao... MEGURINE
LUKA IS THE SHIT DONT @
ME.

Until next time, happy reading!

Love,
Haneul