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celestie0 · 12 days

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choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown.

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!”

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!”

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music.

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic.

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex.

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair.

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours.

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage.

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder.

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage.

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it.

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants.

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there.

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.”

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?”

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex.

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface.

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition.

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving.

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot.

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering.

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of.

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest.

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in.

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast.

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment.

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all.

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again. His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you.

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.”

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous.

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough.

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.”

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out.

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day.

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized.

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

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yongility · 17 days

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NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 2/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k? (I really went all for this chapter)

a/n: I'm a sucker for cliche stuff so as soon as this fic popped in my mind I had to write it down, english isn't my first language tho.

I’m sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 3! One of the reasons this is long af it’s because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/N)'s life is before they get together! So pls pls don’t skip anything I hope you like it!

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

Jung Jaehyun was an idiot.

But he was a clever idiot, and anyone who knew him would know that.

That's why within Neo Zone, his boss had the trust he had in him. Jaehyun was his best guy, or at least that's what he proclaimed enthusiastically every time the boy handed him a new payment for the merchandise he had to sell in his area.

None of his guys were as good negotiators as Jung Jaehyun.

He didn't know if it was because of the particular and convincing way he spoke or if it was because of the bad boy appearance he had, which made people pay him everything they owed him with just a bad look from him. Jaehyun didn't consider himself good at many things, but he was definitely good with numbers, maybe because since the initiation of his gang almost eight years ago, his only job was to maintain the sale - and sometimes purchase - of merchandise. So the numbers always, always had to be exact unless he wanted his boss to get angry and face consequences.

Because despite being a good worker, Jaehyun had faced consequences on multiple occasions.

His scars around his body were not a deco. They didn't have the purpose of scaring away anyone who stood in front of him. They had a slightly different origin than most people thought. Yes, some were the result of a street fight that possibly took place in one of the underground races. Perhaps from a fight against another dealer who tried to sell in his area, but many of them were caused during his early years in the business, where being a kid with little knowledge of how to handle the merchandise he carried with him, things would go wrong and he had to be punished by his own boss and the elders of the gang.

As he often heard during those years, he learned the easy way or the hard way.

Jaehyun's initiation into the gang was different from what other teenagers in Neo Zone had experienced.

In his own defense, he never believed that his initiation had been extreme compared to the experiences he had heard about, however, Jaehyun had to join the gang at the age of eleven.

Normally initiations took place between fourteen and fifteen years old, but there was an exception with the boy. Families in Neo Zone had to have at least one active member in the gang - commonly the man was that member - and it didn't matter if it was the grandfather, father, or son. There always had to be one if they wanted to continue with the safety of their family.

Because being active ensured you the protection that Lee Sooman could offer your family.

So when Jaehyun's father was brutally killed in what they called a clash in a raid. The next member of the Jung family had to take his place, and being Jaehyun the oldest brother and becoming the man of the house, he had to answer for the protection of his family, at his young age of eleven. The boy's duties initially did not involve business as such, since he was still inexperienced in the matter, but Lee Sooman took him under his wing and managed to get Jaehyun to accompany him wherever he was to start acquiring the knowledge he expected to have thanks to the experiences he had with his new boss.

But there was a time when Jaehyun had other aspirations.

There was a time when Jaehyun appreciated getting up to go to school to learn, not to keep his business running. There was a time when the boy could approach his mother while she cooked, sing together, and dance with his little brother happily.

There was a time when Jaehyun loved to sing, and all those little things that brightened his life even a little were damaged by the businesses he was starting to manage.

Because by now, Jaehyun wouldn't just be a dealer.

Lee Sooman expected a lot from him.

And he hated that he did.

If only he could escape from that zone, he would do it as soon as the first opportunity arose, but things weren't as easy as he thought.

And he knew that more than anyone else.

In the end, the only reason for his mere existence currently and the only reason he endured all he had to endure was for his family, which meant everything to him. It was all he had, it was all that drove him to continue, and it was all that gave him the strength to get up every day.

And because he was the man of the house, right?

And he had to take care and protect his family even if he didn't do it with his own life.

But maintaining that title wasn't easy, especially having a rebellious teenager as a brother and having to take care of all the bills that ran through his house.

If only his brother could make things easier for him. If only his brother would listen to him once in his life... because if there was one person who didn't listen to Jaehyun, if there was one person he found difficult to intimidate, it wouldn't be anyone other than Jeno.

And amidst all his complications, there would be no greater one than trying to make a teenager listen to him.

The streets of Neo Zone are not safe at any time of the day, but of course, they would be even more dangerous when the sun set. Jaehyun, as much as he wanted, would never understand why fate gave them that life, if only... if only they had been more fortunate and even just grown up in Kosmo*, his life would be so different.

Jaehyun hated walking the streets of Neo Zone, especially if it wasn't for business, but there he was, walking through the dark alleys that were barely illuminated by the reflection of the moon that had recently filled. His steps were short but firm, as his personality used to be. His leather jacket covered him well from the cold breeze he could feel in his bones, and the rings on his fingers helped him stay focused as he ran his thumb over them. In the distance, within an alley, he could see a pair of cigarette tails being lit as smoke emanated from the mouth of the person consuming it. Jaehyun took a deep breath as he disapproved and approached the group of boys more and more.

Immediately he could recognize him, that blue hair couldn't go unnoticed even if he wanted, what a bad choice his brother had made.

Once he found himself at the entrance of the alley, he grabbed a stick from what once seemed to be a baseball bat and, taking advantage of the distraction of those boys, he made it hit against the garbage container next to him, causing the boys to jump in fright and change their gaze towards him.

Meanwhile Jeno maintained eye contact.

"Let's go," Jaehyun snapped without hesitation.

Jeno's friends and his own brother ignored him and continued with their business, Jeno taking a drag of his joint and exhaling the smoke from his lungs with a cynical side smile. His friends let out a laugh that made Jaehyun's blood boil, and he hit the garbage container again - "I said let's go, Jeno."

His brother huffed as he rolled his eyes: "Go bother someone else, Jaehyun."

The boy clenched his jaw and, dropping the stick from his hands forcefully, he then approached the group of boys and seeing the determination with which Jaehyun walked, the boys stepped back a few centimeters, Jeno stood up and held his gaze firmly on his brother's.

When Jaehyun reached him, he snatched the joint from his lips and threw it to the ground to then step on it. He raised his gaze again and looked at the boys, who were behind his brother with a bit of panic in their eyes.

"What are you looking at? Get out of here if you don't want me to wipe that scared puppy look off your faces and give you real reasons to be scared," he snapped brusquely. The boys simply shrank in their place, not moving an inch - "Haven't you heard me? Get lost!"

This time, the group of young vandals hurriedly left the alley, leaving both boys facing each other, staring directly into each other's eyes and without saying a single word. Only annoyance could be felt emanating from each of their bodies.

"What the hell are you doing, Jaehyun? Can't you go bother somewhere else?" asked Jeno, exasperated.

"You didn't go to the school," his older brother replied with no expression on his face.

Jeno let out an incredulous laugh and shook his head amusedly - "Is that why you're here? To make a scene because I didn't go to the school?"

"I put all my damn effort so you can attend that school, and the least you can do is not skip," he said while pointing a finger at his chest and pushing him forcefully - "And what do you do all damn day, huh? This?" - he pointed at the joint that was now shattered under his foot - "Hanging out with those boys and wasting your life like this?"

"You're no better," Jeno retorted.

Jeno had had his initiation into the gang not long ago. Two years ago, when he turned fourteen, and since then, Jaehyun had managed and had done everything possible to keep his boss from involving him in any business, and to be able to maintain that, his workload had increased, since now he had to do what Jeno would have to do, because definitely being a dealer with no future was not something Jaehyun wanted for his brother. He knew Jeno was smart. He knew Jeno had the potential to be someone in life.

To have a future away from Neo Zone.

Not like him.

And the last thing he wanted was to see his brother being an addict in the alleys of Neo Zone.

"I just care about you," Jaehyun said quietly.

Jeno looked at him with his eyes reddened by the substance he had just ingested and clenched his jaw after hearing that.

"You care about me? You do the same fucking thing every day. And let me tell you that you're not just an addict, you're a damn dealer. Congratulations, you bring money to the table! But at what cost? You talk about caring? You ruin other people's lives," Jeno spat as he lightly pushed him.

Jaehyun wished he could say that those words didn't hurt him, but it was impossible. After all, they came from the mouth of his little brother, who was one of the lights of his life.

"Jeno, we're not going to argue about this," Jaehyun said as he felt his rings and ran his thumb over them "but this is not what I want for you, you have more future than those boys you hang out with, Jeno. You have more future than me. It's just that you don't want to see it... this... this is not what I want for you. I don't want you to spend the rest of your life on these damn streets looking for pleasure in some damn drugs and I don't want to see you overdose. For now, it's weed, but if you don't know how to control yourself and don't know how to handle it, it won't be just that. You're not a child, Jeno, and you should know that your actions have consequences."

"Why do you talk as if you were a saint, Jaehyun!?"

"Because I damn know what I'm talking about !" the older one exclaimed, about to explode and giving him a stern look - "Jeno, you need to understand that this is not what I want for you."

"If this is not what you want for me, why don't you do something better than getting into my damn life? Why don't you start with yourself, huh? How do you expect this not to be part of me if you have mom and me in this shitty place?"

"I'm trying, Jeno... I..."

"Trying? How? By selling more kilos every day? That doesn't help at all, Jaehyun! Why don't you do something else? Why didn't you get us out of here when you could?" he questioned as he approached him again until they were face to face. Both with a firm gaze, without hesitating and without flinching.

"Oh, I know," Jeno muttered - "you don't do shit because you're afraid of ending up like poor Sicheng, right?" - he blurted out.

And that was the last straw.

By inertia and upon hearing that name, Jaehyun's arm lifted and went to punch his younger brother's cheek, causing the area to immediately turn red and Jeno's face to move to the side. The blue-haired boy brought his hand to his cheek and slowly returned his gaze to his brother, finding a bit of regret in his eyes.

"Don't ever mention Winwin like that again," Jaehyun requested without moving.

"Fuck you."

Jeno lightly pushed Jaehyun and walked briskly out of the alley they were in.

And then Jaehyun found himself alone with regret running through his body.

If only things were simpler.

_____________________________________________

"Did you go to Neo Zone!?" Jungwoo's exclamation made (Y/N) jump in her place and quickly approach him to cover his mouth with her own hands while giving him a stern look.

"Shut up, Woo, my mother can hear you!" she retorted almost in a whisper but agitatedly. Then she removed her hand from the boy's mouth and sat down next to him on the bed.

"Are you crazy? What were you doing there on a Friday night?" he asked, accusing her. They remained silent for a few seconds, then Jungwoo jumped on the bed and looked at her in surprise.

"Who are you fucking and why didn't you tell me anything!?”

(Y/N) widened her eyes and quickly shook her head.

"None of that! God, Jungwoo, you're an idiot," she lightly tapped his head with the palm of her hand.

"I'm not seeing anyone."

The boy rubbed his head with a small pout and then looked at her curiously.

"So?"

"It was for Daeho," the girl declared.

Jungwoo rolled his eyes dramatically and stood up from the bed to stand right in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now, what trouble did that idiot get himself into?"

With a heavy sigh, the girl looked at her hands and slightly shrunk in her place. "A big one, Jungwoo. You should have seen how he came home on Friday."

"What happened?"

"Well, what do you think happened? The idiot bought drugs and didn't pay on time. And to make matters worse, he decided to buy them from Jaehyun and made him go to Neo Zone. Apparently, his boss got angry about the debt, and believe me, he was very angry."

"And what have they done to Daeho?" he questioned her again, this time with concern in his voice.

"They beat him up, Jungwoo. He's covered in bruises and they've split his lip and eyebrow," she explained frustratedly.

"Was it Jaehyun?"

"Huh?"

"Did Jaehyun beat him up?"

"No. No, Jaehyun was with me when that happened," she commented while sighing. "But I don't know what to do, Jungwoo. I'm really worried about Daeho. I'm afraid something like that might happen again and it'll end up worse."

Jungwoo looked at her in silence for a few seconds and then sat back down beside her, taking her hands in his and giving her a slight squeeze as a show of support.

"(Y/N), I know it's not my business and you're worried about your cousin, but Daeho is not a child anymore. You can't go through life trying to fix his mistakes. He knows what he's doing, and he should know the consequences behind it," he explained gently. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat, trying to dispel the knot that threatened to form.

"I know, Jungwoo, it's just that..." she paused to take a breath, "I'm all Daeho has. I'm the only person who genuinely cares about him. The least I can do is be there for him," she bit her lip.

"And there's nothing wrong with that, really. But you can't always be by his side, hoping he won't get into trouble. Daeho needs help, yes, but he needs it from a professional before his drug problem becomes a serious one," Jungwoo affirmed, letting go of her hands and putting his arm around her shoulders to give her a slight hug.

"Do you think I haven't mentioned that to him? He doesn't want to listen."

"There's not much you can do on your own, (Y/N)."

It was then that the girl preferred not to say anything and just accept the hug her friend was giving her; because she knew that as soon as she mentioned that she had made a deal with Jung Jaehyun so that he wouldn't sell anything to his cousin again, Jungwoo would surely go crazy.

So now she not only had to hide this from Daeho but also from her best friend.

It couldn't be that difficult, right?

___________________________________________

If there was another place Jaehyun hated besides Neo Zone, it would be the principal's office. He wouldn't have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times he found himself in that same position, sitting in a leather chair, with Principal Kim in front of him giving him a disapproving look.

"I can't do much this time, Jaehyun" the principal spoke and removed his glasses from his face to pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers, "if you don't improve your grades, I'll have to expel you. I don't have any other excuse not to do it."

"But you have to do something" Jaehyun retorted, raising one of his eyebrows and crossing his arms, causing the principal to clear his throat and rest his glasses on his desk.

"Jaehyun, I can't keep covering up everything you do and don't improve even a little. The teachers don't want you here anymore, and if you don't raise your average, there's nothing I can do.

The boy sighed heavily and bit his lower lip. Then, the image of a Hwang came to his mind, and he smiled slightly.

"Don't worry, Principal Kim. For the next evaluations, you'll see my average clean," he explained with a smile.

"I'd like to know how will you do that?" the principal asked, incredulous.

"Studying, Principal Kim. How else would I do it?"

The principal chuckled and shook his head.

"You're warned, Jung. Now, leave my office and go study."

Without saying anything else, the boy got up from his seat and calmly left the principal's office, crossing the hallway until he reached the courtyard of his high school. He looked around, getting a couple of glances from some of his classmates, who surely weren't used to seeing him leave that office once again and as soon as his eyes located a person,

Jaehyun smiled.

He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and walked towards the silhouette sitting under a tree, with at least five books around her and taking notes from each of them, and in which she must have been very concentrated not to feel the presence of the boy a few steps away from her. Hwang let out a heavy sigh and then cursed under her breath, dropping one of her books to the ground abruptly.

"Having a hard time, angel?" he teased while leaning against the tree behind her.

The girl quickly lifted her gaze to then look at him with annoyance and closed one of her books abruptly.

"Don't bother me Jaehyun. I have no interest in having a small talk with you right now," she said, rolling her eyes. "How do you expect me to finish all your assignments and mine before the week ends?" she asked, frustrated.

"Speaking of that, I expect a good grade on those assignments. The principal has already talked to me about kicking me out if I don't meet the average this evaluation," he said, shrugging.

"If only you bothered to study from time to time, you wouldn't have these problems," she retorted reading her notes.

"Why would I do that when I have you, sweet cheeks? Business are business, besides, I've been keeping my word" he said proudly. "How long has Daeho been clean?"

(Y/N) fell silent, thinking of a response, and answered, "almost two weeks, I believe so."

"Do you think it'll last much longer?' he asked again, and she shrugged.

"I hope so, he promised," she muttered without looking him in the eye. Jaehyun sighed and moved to sit next to her, an action that confused the girl, but she didn't comment, she simply let herself go.

A consumer's promises were the worst, and they both knew it. Despite the fact that Daeho didn't consider himself merely an addict... he was. In recent weeks, he was more often in a state of euphoria than sober, and the fact that his parents had been away for over a month was a perfect excuse to do so. Hwang feared for him and feared a lot. What Daeho saw as something harmless kept her in constant unease, because she knew that Daeho wouldn't stay clean for much longer, and there wouldn't be anything else she could do.

"At least you're the only dealer he trusts to buy from," she scoffed, shaking her head.

Jaehyun laughed softly. "You know that as soon as he feels the need, he won't only come to me. Abstinence tends to be difficult for a consumer."

"I know.'

"And what will you do? Offer more money?'

"I don't know, Jaehyun," she replied with a tired tone. "I don't know what to do with Daeho, I don't want him to end being a mess."

To the eyes of an outsider, that scenario could seem a bit funny; Hwang (Y/N) and Jung Jaehyun in the same place without wanting to pull each other's hair out, but if there was something that had caused that conversation in Neo Zone two weeks ago, it was that Jaehyun had managed to empathize at least a little with the girl. At the end of the day, all they both wanted was the best for their families.

They weren't so different in that sense, however, they didn't share anything else. They were simply acquaintances with a common purpose and nothing more.

"The evaluations are coming up, you know what that means?' he asked suddenly.

"What? do I have to do twice your assignments?" she replied with another question, and Jaehyun shook his head with a half-smile.

"Johnny's parties are also coming up, and it's something you should keep Daeho away from. You know his parties are not the healthiest and most innocent thing out there."

Johnny Suh was well known in high school for two reasons; first, because he was the son of one of the best real estate sellers in the city, making him one of the wealthiest kids in high school, and second, because of the study groups he organized near each midterms on one of his properties.

The study group that was nothing more than a facade for the big parties they really have. Every two months, students eagerly awaited that party because with Johnny Suh organizing them, how could not be the best? When it came to those parties, Johnny spared no expense, he would take one of his parents' properties, buy tons of alcohol, invite the dealers from Neo Zone, and didn't care if you were from the south or north, you were welcomed all the same because according to his own words: the more people attended, the better the fun.

And yes, it was something (Y/N) should be worried about, because Daeho could never miss one of those parties. Johnny Suh was within his circle of friends, so he wouldn't dare to let down one of his great friends, how could he?

"Cat got your tongue?" Jaehyun's voice caught her attention and she turned to look at him while exhaling deeply.

"No, Jaehyun, and I'm not in the mood for this."

"Oh, relax, angel" he spoke, raising his hands in defense "I was just mentioning Johnny's party, you know Daeho wouldn't miss it" Jaehyun continued trying to rile her up.

"Great timing for my uncles to return" she muttered, angrily gathering her things and putting them in her bag. She stood up abruptly and Jaehyun followed her.

"Hey, calm down, what's wrong?"

"Daeho's parents are coming back during midterms week and they'll surely having him running around here and there, enough reason for him to go to that damn party" she spat, starting to walk away from him with Jaehyun behind her "and as soon as Daeho stops being clean, I'll break our deal" she threatened, turning around to face him.

"You can't do it if I haven't done anything, you made the deal, you keep it" he said defensively. It wasn't the time for him to risk it and not deliver those high grades to Principal Kim.

"Yes, I can and I will, Jaehyun."

"We made a deal, you can't back down now. I'm already losing money because I'm not selling anything to Daeho".

"I can still write you a check down" (Y/N) said.

"I think I made myself clear when I told you that I didn't want your money".

Ding.

Before the boy could reproach and start an argument with (Y/N), his phone rang in his jacket and he took it out of his pocket to turn on the screen and read the text his friend had left him.

“Yukhei:

come to the garage, something happened.

10:30 am

Don't ask, just come.

10:30 am

I don't even know what happened

but they're furious.

10:31 am”

Jaehyun looked up at the sky, cursing under his breath and closing his eyes. He returned his gaze to the girl, who was now looking at him with confusion, and pointed at her with his index finger.

"I expect my assignments by the end of the week" he commented, turning around to walk away from the place and leaving a frustrated (Y/N) behind.

"Hey! Jung Jaehyun!" she called out loudly "You can't just leave me like this! Hey!”.

_____________________________________________

When he reached the garages, Jaehyun got out of his car, slamming the door shut, immediately drawing Lucas's attention. Lucas was sitting there smoking a joint, one leg propped against the wall and one hand in his pants pocket. Jaehyun approached his friend and took the cigarette from his lips, then took a drag himself.

"What the hell happened now?" he asked, exhaling smoke from his lungs and raising an eyebrow at Lucas. His friend sighed and straightened up.

"Jeno".

With the joint between his lips, Jaehyun's eyes widened, he tossed it to the ground, stomping on it, and quickly took a step forward, only to be stopped by his friend, who placed a hand on his chest. He looked at Lucas, not understanding and showing no expression, then listened to him speak.

"Before you go in there and cause a scene. I don't know what happened. Cheol Uk wouldn't tell me shit, he barely said something had happened with Jeno and they're waiting for you inside" the dark haired guy explained, lightly tapping his friend's chest.

Jaehyun's chest swelled after the deep drag he took. He closed his eyes for a moment and brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it slightly.

"Do you know if he's okay?" he asked, opening his eyes and met with a grimace on Lucas's face.

"Honestly, I don't know".

One of the garage doors opened, causing both boys to turn their heads towards it and seeing Cheol Uk coming out of it, nodding towards Jaehyun to enter, so the guy began walking towards there with Lucas behind him, who was immediately stopped by the guard who put his hand on the boy's chest: "I've been told that only Jaehyun can enter."

Jaehyun turned his head to give Lucas an affirmative look, who breathed deeply and stayed in his place. Jaehyun walked through the garage door, which closed seconds later, and headed towards where his boss was supposed to be.

His head was spinning, and only his brother's name ran through it. What the hell had he done this time?

He didn't even know if he was okay or where he could be, and that was eating him up anxiously.

Despite everything that could come out of Jeno's mouth and his rebellious behavior, as an older brother, Jaehyun worried a lot. Jeno was an important part of his life, and as soon as something happened to him, he wouldn't know what to do. He began playing with the ring on his hand as he continued his way, managing to hear a couple of shouts that he knew well, came from his boss; he clenched his jaw, he was right behind Lee Sooman's back, who, feeling a presence, turned halfway, face to face with the boy.

He approached dangerously. Jaehyun held his breath and suddenly, a burning sensation ran through his cheek, feeling his boss's palm hit him. Jaehyun didn't flinch, didn't complain, and simply did nothing.

He knew it was better that way..

He stayed in his place, straightened his posture, and continued to look ahead, but without making eye contact with Lee Sooman.

"Do you know what your brother's little joke has cost us?" the man asked with annoyance.

"No sir".

"A lot. Your brother is an idiot, he couldn't do something as simple as what I sent him to".

Jaehyun's body tensed, and this time, he made eye contact with his boss.

"What... do you mean you sent him to do something" unintentionally, the tone of his own voice rose, catching his boss's attention "I thought we had a deal, boss."

"Are you talking to me about deals, Jaehyun? Look, the kid came to me asking for a job, and I really admire your whole facade of wanting to feel like the responsible older brother who doesn't want anything to happen to his brother and blah, blah, blah" his boss spoke mockingly "but the boy isn't five years old, Jaehyun. It's time for him to be a grown-up, isn't it? Turn him into one, just like I did with you, right? Look at the man you are, boy".

He felt the falseness in his words, and the sound of his laughter irritated his ears, but again, he said nothing, he knew he shouldn't, and simply stayed in his place to continue listening to him.

"But Jeno and his idiot friends go and screw it up, and now it cost me money and a possible fight. Aish, they can't do anything right if you don't teach them" he muttered the latter.

The boy's brow furrowed and followed his boss's silhouette as he walked to his desk.

"A fight?"

"Yes, I sent them to leave some stuff at the train station, and they ran into Yellow Wood's guys, they stabbed one of the boys. Ah! Park will surely want to do the same" Lee Sooman sighed as he brought his hands to cover his face "and if that's not enough, the Yellow Wood guys stole the stuff, and believe me, they weren't just a few wones worth in drugs. There were a lot.

"Sir..."

"Don't try to cover for your brother, Jaehyun. He made a mistake, a big one, and now, who will pay for it? I'm sure Jeno won't."

"Excuse my brother, sir. I... will talk to him, for sure..."

"A talk won't solve my problem. I need my money, or what? Where do you expect me to get paid from? How do I pay my guys for their work? If there's no drugs, there's no money, and you know it, Jung."

"Sir, please let me do something. I... don't have the money right now. I'm paying for his medicine and..."

"Oh, Jaehyun, don't give me the same old story. Those damn medicines don't matter to me. I've helped you enough with that boy, and I know the whole story inside out and upside down."

Jaehyun's fist clenched at his sides, and he closed his

eyes for a moment, avoiding exploding right there.

"I'm sorry, sir. What do you want me to do?"

"You'll take double of the stuff on Friday when you pick it up. You'll have the weekend to sell it and deliver it to me by Monday, and let's see if you can teach that idiot brother of yours how to handle the business properly once and for all."

The boy's eyes widened, double of the stuff in one weekend? He had been struggling to make ends meet with his normal portion, and now he had to sell double in three damn days. If Jeno was okay right now, he surely wouldn't be after the scolding Jaehyun was going to give him.

"But sir, the business has been slow these days, and..."

"I don't care, Jaehyun. I don't give two shit about how you get that money, but I want all my stuff sold by next Monday, understood? If you don't deliver the money, there will be repercussions, and no, they won't be on you, Jaehyun. It's been Jeno with all this bullshit."

Without saying anything, he nodded. He supposed he would have to ask Johnny for a favor at his party; it was the only place he thought he could sell at least half of what he owed. As for the other half... he would figure out what to do with it later.

He watched as his boss pointed to the door with his hand, and Jaehyun obediently turned around to leave the place. The blood was rushing through his body, and he clenched his fists tighter and tighter as he moved.

His brother was such an idiot.

Not only had they lost the stuff, but they had also stabbed one of the Yellow Wood boys, and he knew they would come back looking to do the same. What guaranteed him that one of these days his brother wouldn't come back with a wound like that? He let out a sigh as he opened the garage door. He saw Lucas quickly approaching him, but he didn't pay the slightest attention to him because he was too busy storming towards his car with fury in his eyes.

His friend tried to stop him, but he couldn't, so he simply followed him. Both got into the car. Lucas heard the slam Jaehyun had given. He started the car without answering the questions the guy in the passenger seat was asking and drove off at speed towards his house. Lucas kept calling him, but it was in vain because Jaehyun could only think about how bad the conversation he had to have with his brother would go. The older boy's knuckles could be seen white from gripping the steering wheel, and he could hear him cursing every now and then. Lucas gave up and sighed as he leaned back in his seat; it was pointless to try to talk to Jaehyun when he was behaving like that, so he simply wouldn't bother anymore.

A few moments later, they were in front of the boy's house, where the older one quickly got out of the car, and Lucas continued his steps behind him.

"Jaehyun! What the fuck happened!?" Lucas shouted at his back, and again, he didn't receive an answer.

He aggressively entered the house, slightly alarming his mother, who was in the kitchen and, seeing the way her son had entered, left things and approached him.

"Where's Jeno?" he asked without preamble.

"What happened?" she asked, concerned.

"Where's Jeno?" he repeated, clenching his jaw.

"In his room" she didn't even finish speaking when Jaehyun was already walking towards the door, she turned worriedly to see the boy beside her and spoke: "Yukhei, what happened?"

Jaehyun opened the bedroom door with a bang and found Jeno sitting on his bed, with a bruise under his eye and his lip slightly open. The older brother exhaled deeply and approached his brother, who was already standing up and naturally, defensive.

"What the fuck do you think you did, Jeno? Huh?

"Stay out of my damn life, Jaehyun. I'm sick of it" Jeno spat as he walked towards him.

"Oh, are you sick of it?" Jaehyun asked "Wow, the little boy is tired of me only wanting what’s best for him" he said, feigning a pout "Do you know the stupid thing you and your friends did?" he questioned again as Jeno pushed him slightly with his shoulder and walked out of the room. Arriving in the living room, where Lucas was trying to distract their mother —"Not only did you lose the drugs, Jeno. You stabbed someone from Yellow Wood, do you think that's something funny to do?"

"What? Drugs?" Mrs. Jung asked confused.

"Shut up, Jaehyun" the younger one spoke through his teeth.

The boy looked at his mom and then at his friend, scoffed, and denied as he once again approached his brother: "Jeno went to Sooman to ask for a job" he confessed as his mother exclaimed in surprise "and now I have to answer for the stupid things your son did".

"Stop treating me like a damn kid!" Jeno exclaimed as he pushed him slightly, managing to anger the older one a little more.

"You want me to stop? Huh?"

"Jaehyun, Jeno. Enough" their mom intervened from her place, causing Jaehyun to turn to look at her and shake his head.

"No, Mom. Jeno doesn't want to be treated like a kid anymore? Fine. Does he want to ruin his life? Fine. If the boy is old enough to make decisions for himself and get into things he has no fucking idea about; let him. I don't give a shit anymore. I already have enough responsibility for this house as it is for him to come and add more".

Silence fell in the living room, with Jaehyun and Jeno staring directly at each other. With their mother leaning on Lucas, who was supporting her, and Jaehyun could only catch between his ears, the boys' accelerated breaths in front of them.

"You have no idea what you're getting into, Jeno. Do you think it's easy to go out there with that stuff and sell it like chocolates? What are you going to do when you don't meet the quota? Huh? Will you take responsibility and face the consequences? Ah, right. You're not a child anymore, and you don't need me. So if something happens... Don't you dare come running to me, because if you have the balls to get into this shit. You'll have the balls to solve your problems. Once you enter in this shitty hole, there's no way out" he ended slowly as Jeno widened his nostrils. He turned around and left the house with a bang, making his mother jump in her place, and with tears shining in her eyes, she moved away from Lucas to approach her older son.

"Jaehyun... "she murmured as her son enveloped her in his arms and hid his head in her chest "he's still my baby" she sobbed.

Jaehyun looked at his friend, who only gave him a sad smile and lightly patted his back, silently demonstrating the support he would always provide.

"I know, Mom. Jeno will be okay" he replied in a whisper as he stroked her hair and planted a kiss on the top of her head "I promise you that someday I'll get you out of here, even if I have to stay behind"

His mother raised her head to look into her son's eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek: "Jaehyun, I can't take this anymore. You're my children, I don't want to see you both ruined, I can't" the boy choked up and once again caressed her hair.

"I'll get you out of here, someday I'll be able to do it, including him. I'll get all four of us out of here, I promise you".

His mom nodded with another tear running down her face and pressed her lips slightly. Jaehyun moved away from her and moved towards Lucas, to nod his head indicating that he should accompany him out of the house. Both boys walked in silence towards the door, where they were stopped after hearing the words that came out of Mrs. Jung's mouth.

"Don't end up like your father, Jaehyun."

The weight those words carried was something the boy couldn't believe.

Because that was something he wasn't sure he could promise.

______________________________________________

Once her uncles set foot in the city, it would be total chaos. It was something that (Y/N) knew, something she was aware of, which was why she simply hated the thought of it happening for two simple reasons: first, because then she would have to be even more attentive to her cousin and his possible impending collapse due to the pressure his parents put on him as soon as they arrived in the city.

And second, because their arrival meant a family dinner at her house; which had no other result than to talk once again about the future that awaited both of them and the vast comparisons their mothers loved to make between them, creating an endless discord: to see which family had more than the other, or to allude to who had a better present and future than the other.

At her ripe eighteen years, (T/N) never managed to understand the dynamics of her family. Were all families like hers? She didn't understand why her father and uncle had this constant competition between them; as brothers, it was the last thing they should have. Did money eventually turn you into such a person? Was it something that Daeho and she would become when they were responsible for the companies? She couldn't wrap her head around that scenario, the last thing she would want is for there to be some kind of conflict between them when they both needed each other, both had each other's backs, and both were the support for each other.

What a great family environment existed in that residence.

And if she could add a third reason: it was that she hated having to behave like the perfect daughter everyone expected her to be.

Coincidentally and to her own misfortune, the dinner at her parents' house was on the same night as Johnny Suh's party.

One more concern to her list.

With the faint reflections of the moon on her room and the gentle breeze coming through her large window, she gave one last careful look in her mirror, observing her figure wrapped in a black dress that ended just above her knee, a white and fluffy sweater that covered her from the coolness of the night, and her platform boots that complemented the style of the rest of her outfit.

She sighed... approached her dresser, picking up the first pair of earrings she saw to put them on her ears and let out another sigh. She never understood the formality of dinners at home, in the end, it was just her parents, her two uncles, Daeho, and herself who would end up sitting at the long dining table, but what she did know was that if she dared to come down with any outfit that didn't please her mother enough... she would instantly make her go back to change her clothes to something more suitable for her... or for them rather. Because according to her mother; you never know who the next person you might meet is.

Yes, even in her own home.

Where there wouldn't be more than six people.

She had tried multiple times to get in touch with Daeho since early in the morning, as soon as she had found out that her uncles' flight had arrived, however, he didn't answer her calls or text messages; which was enough to make (Y/N) nervously bite her nails. Something that had her tired, she was tired of living like this, worrying about everyone but herself, but if she didn't worry about her cousin the way she did, who would?

She was well aware that Daeho was not a child of five years to be in charge of, but sometimes she felt like he was. With the little attention he received from his parents and all the attachment and emotional dependence he had developed towards his cousin, (Y/N) had no choice but to fulfill that role, but... how much more would it consume of her?

She was grateful to have Kim Jungwoo in her life; the only sincere friend who had crossed her path. False friendships that could arise around her were no surprise to the girl: status was everything. If you wanted people to see you well, recognize you for something, and not sideline you, you had to hang out with people of your same level. (Y/N) tried to remember all those times she tried to create friendships, but ones that were sincere, each of those times ended in a failed attempt when she realized that people didn't really care about her but the great dollar sign that pursued her as if it were an ornament.

What a fake life.

That's why the affection she had for Jungwoo was immense. The only person who gave herself the opportunity to get to know her without judging her, the only person with whom she didn't have to maintain a whole facade.

She hated pretending; everyone thought she was perfect, that her life was perfect, the presentation she always carried was perfect, they even thought her family was perfect; she had spent the last few years of her life trying to keep up appearances, continuing with the facade that her parents and uncles had created and if Daeho screwed up, it all fell on her, because she was the one who had to fix it, because she was the one who had to assure everyone that everything was fine in her family... because if she let her guard down and showed her reality; the dream world that the Hwang family had invested so much in pretending would come crashing down like a freshly kicked sandcastle.

And so, seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours and when she least expected it, she found herself uncomfortably seated between her mother and Daeho, with a plate of food that, for the moment, didn't look appetizing at all and with her leg bouncing slightly from the anxiety emanating from feeling the tense atmosphere she was wrapped in.

Her mind was elsewhere. The last thing her ears had captured was the conversation her uncle had created about his recent trip to New York, where he had signed a couple of agreements and where... she couldn't remember anything else.

It reminded her a lot of her childhood, where they would both sit for hours beside their parents listening to them talk about business, money, agreements, and a thousand things that at her age they wouldn't understand but that according to their parents, getting involved from an early age in the world they lived in would help them shape their future.

In a way, she felt like her childhood had been stolen. Instead of being able to go out to the huge yard of her house to play like any normal child, she had to stay inside to attend one of her mother's arranged classes for her. Instead of listening to a story that her father had to tell her before going to sleep, she found herself with the stories he told her about "how he became the successful businessman he was and how she had to do the same" or the times when they always wanted to include her in the adult world when she was barely in elementary school.

But she never complained... at least she had a family and a roof over her head, she convinced herself of the luck she had of being born into the family she had... a total privilege.

When she lifted her eyes from the fixed point they had been pinned to, she could notice out of the corner of her eye how Daeho simply limited himself to eating in silence, nodding from time to time and feigning a smile here and there, moving his cutlery slightly and taking small bites of his food.

At least she wasn't the only anxious person at the table.

Her gaze lifted when her name came out of her mother's mouth, who was watching her expectantly with a smirk: “Isn't that right, sweetheart?” her mother inquired.

“Hmm, excuse me?” she questioned with a small voice as the adults' gazes were fixed on her.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's disrespectful not to pay attention to the matters discussed at the table” her mother gave her a fake smile that simply made the girl change her gaze to her hands resting on her lap and tilt her head in apology, causing her mother to let out a snort that was only heard by her “Your uncles and we have been talking about the fact that Daeho and you are about to graduate, we believe it's time to start looking at which universities you'll get into” her mother explained, staring at her intently “although, personally, your father and I have had this whole life plan we created for you since you were seven, remember we talked about studying abroad?

“Oh! We also want our Dae to study abroad! We had thought about Oxford! Isn't that right, honey?”Daeho's mother spoke with enthusiasm addressing her husband, who only smiled as he nodded.

(Y/N) and Daeho shared glances for a couple of seconds, precipitating what was to come, and smiled sadly at each other.

“Umh, mom? I don't think this is something we should discuss right now... there's still a little time before we graduate. I don't think it's a... necessary topic right now...”

The girl was interrupted by a gasp from her mother, who looked slightly offended and placed a hand on her chest, shaking her head from side to side.

“You say there's still time? (Y/N), you graduate in a year, do you think that's little time? We should start looking at universities, especially if we want to send you abroad.”

Taking a breath in surprise, she spoke: “Mom, abroad?” the girl let out a sigh “I don't think it's necessary, I mean... Seoul has incredible universities and curriculums, it's not necessary to go far from home...”

“Seoul?” her mother asked incredulously “Do you think I, your mother, will send you to some mediocre university in Seoul? You must be crazy if you think you'll end up at any of those universities” she continued with contempt “You, miss, will get into an Ivy League university, like your father and uncle did and there’s no other way.”

The table fell into a small silence, where only the looks of Mrs. Hwang and (Y/N) were shared intensely, when slightly the voice of Daeho's mother was heard:

“Well, we also have to see if she's capable of passing the exams first, don't we?” she said quietly before delicately wiping her lips with the cloth napkin on her lap.

The gaze of (Y/N)'s mother abruptly changed to the other woman, who only smiled sideways in a mocking tone and feeling her cousin's body tense beside her, the girl's anxiety shot up a thousand miles per hour anticipating what was to come.

“What did you just say?”

“I think you heard me right, sweetheart. We must see if my niece really has the ability to pass exams as important as those of the Ivy League, because believe me, dear” she changed her view to the girl “it's not just going, sitting down, and looking pretty as you've done all these years.

It felt like a punch… right into her face.

Was it really like that? Did her appearance speak more than the effort she had put into her work for so long?

Was that how they really perceived her?

She knew she had much more to offer... why were they reducing her to just that? She was dedicated, she was responsible... wasn't all her effort worth it?

Wasn't it enough?

“I think you're the least qualified person to talk about children, Eunji” (Y/N)'s mother attacked “Daeho is no delicate flower, the disaster he is when you don't pay attention to him...”

The eyes of the mentioned boy widened and immediately (Y/N) dropped her hands on her table and got up from her seat.

“Mom! Stop this” the girl exclaimed.

“Do you think I'm going to let this woman come to my house to talk about you and my family like that, when we welcomed her with open arms?” her mother reproached, standing in front of her.

“You don't have any right to talk about mine either” now Eunji joined the conversation.

“Oh, come on, Eunji, stop being so blind and realize the kind of son you have.”

Daeho didn't need to be there anymore, which was why he fleetingly got up from his seat and without saying more, left the house with more haste than his cousin had ever seen. (Y/N) dropped her cloth napkin on the table with noticeable annoyance to try to go after her cousin, it was when her mother took her by the arm, squeezing firmly.

“Don't you dare set foot outside this house.”

She didn't know if it was the anger running through her veins or the tiredness of always wanting to do what her mother thought was right; but she didn't need to think twice when without looking back she went out the large door of her house, taking the keys to her car on the way. Her throat felt weird, she didn't want to waste a single tear. She shouldn't. With her hands slightly trembling and biting her lip, she took her cell phone and pressed a couple of numbers on it, waiting for the other line to answer.

With heavy breaths and sitting in the driver's seat of her car, she listened to the rings her phone produced and when she finally heard a response, she spoke quickly:

“Jungwoo, I'm sorry for calling late, but there’s a party we need to go”.

_____________________________________________

The scenario in which Jung Jaehyun found himself was not unfamiliar to him. His ears had been ringing from a few meters away before he arrived at one of the Suh residences; with Wong Lucas by his side and stepping out of his own car: a BMW M2, a car that he had won from a rich kid in one of his many bets a few months ago, thanks to his luck and his driving skills.

And since then, it had become his favorite car. Luckily, he could occasionally take it to his friend Taeyong's workshop to make some adjustments and add a couple of details to make the car even better.

Entering the mansion, he could see some familiar faces a few meters away from him. Some greeted him warmly as their dealer was just entering, while others tried to avoid him like the plague. Either way, Jaehyun didn't care how they looked at him.

He came with a single purpose in mind.

It was incredible to see how much someone like Johnny Suh could invest in one of his parties: it was crazy to see how he splurged everything for a simple night. However, that was his perfect hook for his businesses, and if he had to give double the money to Sooman by Monday, he had to get started right away.

Without exchanging a single word with Lucas and lightly taking him by the arm, he brought him closer to the wall; from his pocket, he took out a couple of small bags and immediately handed them to his friend, who only nodded, understanding everything and putting what Jaehyun had given him into the pockets of his jacket. They hugged with a quick pat on the back, and again, without saying anything, they separated.

Observing the environment cautiously, Jaehyun went into the luxurious house, trying to blend in with the people there. His ears were still ringing, and the smell of marijuana reached his nose. He inhaled subtly and relaxed his posture when Johnny Suh's figure stood in front of him.

"Jung Jaehyun!" the guy exclaimed, opening his arms. "Welcome to the Suh residence, my favorite dealer. What do you have for me this wonderful night?" he asked curiously while waving his hands.

Jaehyun put his hand in his pocket and carefully showed him the contents he had there, causing Johnny to smile ecstatically.

"Half or an ounce?" Jaehyun asked, putting the small bag back into his jacket.

"An ounce, my friend."

Friend, surely.

"You know how much it is," Jaehyun said as he took out the small bag again and placed it in the guy's hand, receiving a 50,000 won bill in his other hand in return. "Dude, I don't have any change with me," he warned.

"What are you talking about, Jae? Keep the change and enjoy the night. The drinks are by the kitchen, take whatever you want, and if you happen to go up to any of the rooms, don't forget to lock it," he patted his chest with a wink from his eye and left his sight without saying more.

Even with a bit of evident surprise on his face, he tucked the bill into his wallet and continued on his way; it would be a long night, so why not have a little fun while selling all his stuff?

He didn't know at what exact moment his first drink of the night ended, nor did he know at what moment he found himself among a circle of people who had bought at least a quarter of what he needed to sell, nor did he know at what moment his hand ended up on the waist of a girl who was looking at him while batting her eyelashes at him.

He knew better than anyone that it wasn't time to get drunk, especially with the heavy merchandise he was carrying with him, but how good it felt the slight dizziness that passed through his head, the weed made him momentarily forget everything. When he was younger, he had sworn he wouldn't fall into alcohol so easily, but it was a temptation that was hard to resist, and eventually, weed also helped. For a moment, he could be himself and forget everything at home, in his neighborhood, at work.

But how hard it was when all that effect wore off and he became simply Jaehyun again, the number one dealer of Neo Zone.

His eyes momentarily diverted from the girl in front of him, watching as at the back of the room there was a Yellow Wood guy; one of the gang his brother had gotten into trouble with, selling a package similar to the ones he was selling to none other than Hwang Daeho.

He didn't know what had come over him because clearly it wasn't his problem, but slowly he left the small group he was in, hearing behind him how the girl he had spent the whole night with called him while he ignored her, heading towards the two young men.

"Hey, Chris," Jaehyun greeted with a serious expression. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this guy."

"Oh, Jung, don't get involved when I'm finishing a deal," the mentioned one responded as he pocketed the bills Daeho had given me. "Don't think we've forgotten about the little show your brother and his friends put on a couple of months ago on the train tracks."

He clenched his jaw and could feel Daeho tense beside him. "It's not like I'm going to forget that you're dealing and doing business in Neo Zone territory either, go back to your city and sell there," the tattooed guy explained as he dangerously approached him.

"Look, Jung, the last thing I want tonight is a fight, so stop getting in my way," Chris replied as he walked away from the guys.

When they were alone, Jaehyun stood in front of Daeho and stretching out his hand, he spoke: "Give me what he sold you."

It wasn't his problem, so why was he doing this? He hadn't sold him anything, so he hadn't broken any deal.

Was alcohol playing tricks on him, making (Y/N)'s face appear in his mind? Daeho looked at him without understanding what he was asking for, and that was enough for Jaehyun to let out a heavy sigh to repeat: "Give me any crap that idiot sold you."

"Look, Jaehyun, I don't know what's going on, and if this has to do with buying from someone outside your area, I'm sorry, but dude, you haven't wanted to sell me anything in the last few weeks, and I can't go a single damn day without getting something else," Daeho explained, putting the package away in his bag and refusing to comply with what Jaehyun had just asked.

"I don't give a damn that you can't keep your damn body clean, but apparently, your cousin does care, so give me that," he demanded again.

"What does (Y/N) have to do with all this? Are you fucking her or something?" asked the boy in front of him with annoyance, and now that he paid attention, his eyes were slightly bloodshot.

He didn't have time to deal with a junkie right now.

"Go ahead, champ. Go keep putting that crap into your body, I don't want you crossing paths with me all night," Jaehyun requested, touching the bridge of his nose, feeling Daehyuk getting closer to him.

That guy had courage out of nowhere.

And that's what a substance can do for you.

"I remind you that you're no better than me, you consume it and sell it."

Daeho stepped away from him, leaving him alone and causing him to clench his fist. He was tired, tired of remembering every minute of his life how messed up it was. Did he have another option? No, he didn't have any other option, right now, it was either to sell all that heaviness in the pockets of his jacket or risk ending up on Monday with a beaten body and having to hide it from his mother.

The night was still young, and he had to end up with those empty pockets. He just hoped Lucas was doing his part correctly.

____________________________________________

Jungwoo was next to (Y/N); it had been a while since he and his friend went out partying, and although clearly, she wasn't there to have fun, she wanted to make the most of the night.

The girl next to him scanned the room for any sign of her cousin, but there was no trace of him. The familiar faces of her classmates ran through her mind, and she was starting to feel overwhelmed.

"(Y/N), I know you're worried about your cousin and all that," heard her best friend's voice above the music, "but I also know you need to have some fun. Why don't we do that? It's been a while since we've been to a party; we should make the most of it, and then later, you can kick Daeho's ass."

"I don't know, Woo."

"Look, the same pressure Daeho says he feels is the same pressure your parents put on you, and after the scene they made today at dinner? Don't you think you deserve a break?"

Jungwoo approached the table where a couple of drinks were, quickly preparing a paloma for his friend and handing it to her after finishing it.

"Let's enjoy the night, break away from your home, and be yourself. Not the girl your parents expect you to be, not the girl your business expects you to be. Just the teenager you are now, just that." The girl, although not very convinced, nodded and then took a sip of her drink, feeling that Jungwoo had put more alcohol than soda in it. The boy laughed at his friend's reaction and hugged her by the shoulders.

"Alright, let's have fun tonight."

(Y/N) had never been a big fan of alcohol, especially beer. If she occasionally enjoyed a drink, it was usually some kind of elegant wine that her father had in the mini wine cellar at home; some kind of Cabernet Sauvignon or Pinot Grigio... however, tonight, the acidity that ran down her throat every time she took a sip of her commercial beer was a feeling of ecstasy.

She didn't know if it was because Jungwoo's words were really resonating in the back of her head, where she remembered that, right now, what she needed to do was relax and distance herself from her family. Because she deserved it. So she wasn't sure when she lost sight of her best friend during the night, maybe it was sometime around eleven or twelve at night when Jungwoo left her side; nor was she sure when her head started to feel light after the third beer, but she was sure she was starting to lose count.

Normally, it was always Jungwoo and (Y/N), stuck side by side and never separating, which is why, at that moment, it was strange to see the girl around classmates, with whom she rarely engaged in conversation, but she truly didn't care in the state she was in, because she was having a good time, and especially because a nice guy, whom she didn't recognize, was making her laugh like she hadn't in a long time.

Her phone felt heavy in the small bag she was carrying, especially because she was aware of the numerous calls and messages she had been ignoring from her mother since she had arrived at the Suh residence, and although she knew she should answer those calls, she firmly believed that she didn't want to deal with her and her father.

For now, she just wanted to be a girl having fun and forgetting about everything else.

The image of Daeho had been temporarily erased from her mind a while ago, but at some point in her night, the doubt of whether Jung Jaehyun had attended the party had arisen.

Still, she couldn't see him.

Amidst all the numbness her mind was going through, she didn't notice when subtly the guy she had been talking to for an hour moved her away from the group of people they were with. Chris, she remembered his name, had a slight grip on her waist; something she hadn't paid the slightest attention to.

"Why are we moving away?" (Y/N) asked in a sleepy voice, letting herself be guided by the steps the guy took.

"Oh, I just thought it would be good if we moved away a bit to talk more. You know, we can get to know each other a little better," the guy responded, causing the girl to overlook the hint of malice that came out of his mouth.

"But we were fine with the others," she dragged her words as she tried to move away from Chris's grip on her body. "Where's Jungwoo?" she asked when her inner alarm went off.

"He must be around here somewhere, don't worry; we'll look for him later," he replied as he gently brought his lips to the girl's ear and then moved them to her jawline. "Let's have a good time for now."

A light kiss was planted there, and it was then that her senses returned coldly, and all the dizziness she had previously experienced disappeared slightly; putting her hands on the guy's chest to push him away abruptly.

"No, I don't want to look for him later. I want to go with Jungwoo now," the girl demanded after her failed attempt to push him away.

"Calm down, Hwang. You've been practically all over me all night; it's not time to start playing hard to get, is it?"

"What are you talking about, idiot?" she questioned sharply and tried to push him again; she looked into his eyes with anger and could see in them the way they were droopy, slightly bloodshot, and that's when she could gather who this guy was and what he did with his lif “let go of me now or...”

"Or what? Stop pretending to be a fucking innocent; it doesn't suit you," he said as he, again, brought his mouth to the girl's neck.

And surprised by the strength she found in that moment, with a strong push and after struggling, she was able to push him far enough to release a punch that went straight to his jaw.

"You damn bitch," the guy spat, letting go of her and grabbing her face.

"That would be the last time you touch me, and get that if a girl says no, it's because she means no."

"You'll regret it, you fucking bitch."

With her heart pounding in her chest and her mind still accompanied by a slight dizziness, she began to move away from the guy and the dark hallway she was in. It was difficult to walk when her legs felt shaky from the scene she had been involved in; she scolded herself mentally for drinking the amount of alcohol she had drunk, knowing well her low tolerance to it.

She looked for Jungwoo with her eyes, and it was difficult to find him when her vision was blurry. She wanted to get out of there. She wanted to do it now.

What an idiot Chris had been. She hated it when men looked for things that weren't there. She had never hinted that she wanted anything, nor that she wanted to get away from the group. She felt dirty to remember where his hands had been. How his fingerprints felt on her skin and how she wanted to hit him again in his stupid face.

She felt something strange in her chest, she didn't know how to explain it; it was a combination of anger and vulnerability she was experiencing. The slight distress she felt there could be noticed on her face, surrounded by so many people under the effects of who knows what substance, feeling her body reacting slowly and not knowing where the hell Jungwoo had gone.

When she felt a hand on her arm, stopping her steps, she feared it was Chris, who had gone after her. And with her breath caught in her throat, she turned around to find a pair of eyes that took her by surprise.

"Hey, are you okay, Angel?"

She thought it was the first time she was glad to see Jaehyun.

It wasn't weird seeing Jaehyun in Johnny's house, she knew he's use to come to this parties at the end his presence was required if her classmates wanted to have a good time. What it was weird to her a that in the last two weeks he has seen Jaehyun more often that her own cousin, that always seemed to have an excuse to avoid her.

She didn’t know if it was of the dizziness she was feeling or what, but Jung Jaehyun looked good. All dressed up in black leather, with his neck tattoo decorating his body and his pulled hair back. She must be really fucked up if she was thinking in how hot Jaehyun looked.

But that wasn’t the case right now, she needed someone because she couldn’t trust herself in that state.

And right now, among all the people inside the residence and adding that Jungwoo was nowhere to be found, Jaehyun was the only person she could rely on.

Could she really?

She thought there wasn't much difference between Chris and Jaehyun. In the end, they both did the same thing. Sure, in different areas, but their lives revolved around similar things; situations, people, experiences.

"I... I don't know where Jungwoo is," she clumsily said.

In her voice, Jaehyun could notice the slight clumsiness in tone, realizing that the girl had been drinking, approaching her delicately, now he could see the expression of concern on her face.

"And then that idiot of Chris," she continued with a disgusted face, and upon hearing the mention, Jaehyun defensively turned to look at her.

"Has Chris approached you? Was it something about Daeho?" he asked quickly.

(Y/N) nervously bit her lip to avoid the boy's gaze and again put her gaze on the hall where they were.

Where the hell was Jungwoo?

"Shit," the girl blurted out when she realized, "Chris sold something to Daeho, didn't he?" Seeing the expression on the boy's face, she knew the answer. "Damn it, I'm so sick of this," she said as she put her hands on her head. Her breathing quickened, and she felt her hands trembling. "What the hell do I have to do for Daeho to stop this nonsense? I came here to find him, and then Jungwoo thought it would be a good idea to have fun," she spoke quickly, causing Jaehyun to only catch a few words. "I'm sick of my mom and my aunt arguing about which family is better, then Jungwoo disappears, and the stupid of Chris tries something with me”.

"What? Has he done something to you?" Jaehyun asked, surprised.

"What's the point of having this damn deal with you?" she ignored the boy's words and continued, "I know you told me that Daeho would find another dealer as soon as he wanted to use again, but I had hoped he wouldn't. Now I'm overwhelmed with my tasks and yours, that damn report I have to submit in four days, and my mind is stuck. I don't know what else to do to keep everything at one hundred percent, when I'm not even at five percent," she confessed without thinking, and when she realized what she had done, she lowered her gaze. "Sorry, I know you're not someone who cares about this."

She turned around without letting the boy say anything, and after walking a bit, she heard behind her:

"Come on, I'll take you home."

Her brow furrowed, and she turned to face the boy, confused, she asked, "Huh?"

"It seems like you've been drinking a bit too much, and Jungwoo is nowhere to be found, I'll take you home, even if your car is parked around, I don't think it's wise to drive like this."

"What about you?"

"I stopped drinking two hours ago," the boy replied simply, "let's go."

When Jaehyun started walking, (Y/N)'s steps became almost automatic; without thinking about where she was going or with whom, they only followed the silhouette of the boy in front of her without a word.

Perhaps a few seconds later, when she noticed she was in front of Jaehyun's BMW, her mind questioned what she was doing.

She hadn't made wise decisions tonight.

With her hand hesitating on the door handle, debating her actions and whether she should get into the car or not, with her senses heightened knowing it was Jung Jaehyun who, presumably, would take her home, and with the same, already inside the car, waiting for her to react and finally make up her mind; her body trembled.

The music from the residence still echoed in her ears, yet above it, she could hear Jaehyun calling her from inside... and then, without further thought; she got into the car.

The car, to her surprise, looked clean; the scent she could perceive from it was odd... like a combination of marijuana and vanilla, in smoky tones... and now that she thought about it of the few times she managed to be close to Jaehyun, that was the same smell she perceived, and she couldn't help but think it was a pleasant smell. Odd but pleasant.

Jaehyun knew where the Hwang residence was, he had been close once when he had to make some deliveries in that area; that's why he didn't need to ask the girl for any directions, besides he didn't feel like having a chat, especially with someone he doubted was in their right mind.

The first few minutes were silent, she could hear (Y/N)'s soft breathing above the sounds of his own car, and he hoped the rest of the journey would be like that; until she decided to speak: “do you use as well?”

Jaehyun was taken back for the sudden question and the he shook his head. “Sometimes I smoke weed, but that the only thing I use. I don’t like other shit, I might not be the greatest person but I appreciate my body” he said jockingly. It was weird seeing Jaehyun joking with her. “But really, weed is the only thing I like.”

“Doesn’t make you an addict?” she questions again.

“Don’t think so” he answers. “I don’t do it often. Only when I’m really stressed about something, I can control myself” he says and she stayed quiet for a couple of minutes.

“What's next for you?" She asked out of sudden again, making Jaehyun furrow his eyebrows while he kept looking at the road.

"What do you mean?" Jaehyun asked without looking at her.

"It's the last year of school, do you know what's next for you?" (Y/N) asked again this time she stop looking at the window and she put his gaze in him.

Jaehyun scoffed "Do you really want to know?"

Did he really wanted to answer?

This is the longest talk they have ever had.

"I mean... I guess so"

The boy hated thinking about future. And now he hated even more because some preppy girl had to ask about it.

"I don't know" he said. "I don't think about future a lot if I'm honest" he didn't know why he answer though. He could just not say nothing if he wanted to.

"But you should" (Y/N) commented. "College is just around corner and there's a lot of options you should look up".

Jaehyun let out a laughter that left (Y/N) confused. Was he laughing at her? She tilted her head, she didn't know what was so funny.

"College isn't an option for me" he said as he stopped in a red light and then he moved his head so he could look at her. He didn't know why he was telling all of this. "There's no next for me after high school"

"You can't be serious" she mumbled. "There most be and option that can suit you"

"You don't know shit" he said and that alone made (Y/N) move in her sit a little bit uncomfortable.

"No, I might not but if you say that there's no other option for you... then I'm sorry, Jaehyun, I think I have to end the deal with you."

When Jaehyun abruptly stopped the car, he was glad that there was a red light at the traffic signal.

"What?"

"I'm tired of trying to help Daeho when he doesn't want to be helped," she confessed without even looking at him, "and... I think it's time to focus on me. It's too much work. Yours... mine... if I want to keep good grades, my assignments alone are enough, and if you don't have an interest in making something good for you, then I'll stop helping you out as well".

Jaehyun shook his head: "No, but I need your help. I can't fail. I can't be kicked out of school."

"I don't understand, Jaehyun," she said, changing her gaze from the street to the boy's eyes, "I don't understand why all this fuss about not being able to be kicked out of school if it’s because you don't want to ruin your business, not because you genuinely want to be better in your school life. You said it yourself, college isn't an option for you so, if this is only about your work I don't want to be involved or have any influence in something that is not legal".

Jaehyun's hands tensed on the steering wheel.

"You don't need to understand," he said as he moved forward at the green light, "they can't kick me out of school," he repeated firmly.

"Well, I'm sorry, Jaehyun. I made the decision. I appreciate the weeks when you didn't sell anything to Daeho, but even so, he finds a way to consume. It's not your fault. And I finally realized it's not my fault either. I also appreciate you taking me home, but after tonight, you'll go your way and I'll go mine."

"So you're okay with me being kicked out?" He asked with a side smile.

"We're not friends, Jaehyun" she stated. "We were just helping each other out. But if my cousin doesn't want to be helped, I don't need your help neither. I’m sorry if you needed mine but I can’t keep up with this anymore. Being involved with you was dangerous enough and I think it’s for the better"

It hadn't been long since the damn deal had taken place, but inside Jaehyun, he liked having an occasional interaction with the girl, especially if it was to annoy her... he found it funny every time she wrinkled her nose when she was upset with him or the way she tenderly rolled her eyes after he made a silly comment on purpose.

He might got used to her a little.

"I knew you rich kids weren’t faithful to your word" he said. "I guess I can't force you to anything," Jaehyun let out a sigh.

Another fifteen minutes passed in complete silence, with some discomfort on both sides. (Y/N) looking anywhere out of the windows but not putting her gaze on Jaehyun, and the boy was focused on the wheel.

Anyone who saw the scene would laugh to see two people as different as Hwang (Y/N) and Jung Jaehyun in the same car.

She was sure Jungwoo would laugh if he saw them.

Of course, after she kicked him a few times for leaving her.

She didn't notice precisely when they were entering her residence; it wasn't until the car stopped abruptly, and she could see through the window the immense house in front of them.

It was more appealing to stay in that car with the dealer than to deal with her mother.

"I guess it's time for me to go," (T/N) said, grabbing the car handle, "Thank you... Jaehyun... for bringing me, and I'm sorry I can't help you with your work anymore... but I can't do it."

The boy smiled slightly and adjusted his jacket as he shook his head.

"Take care, Angel," Jaehyun said and then said no more.

Jaehyun hadn't been a bad guy to her during the time they had agreed on the deal, however... for her own good; she hoped they wouldn't cross paths again, like it was before the start of the deal.

Jung Jaehyun was a dealer from the Neo Zone, and she had an image to uphold, that's why it was better for each to take their place.

But what was that she felt when she got out of the car and saw Jaehyun leave without even looking at her one last time?

a/n: taglist is open! thank you for reading! wait 4 the next chapter!

there’s a mention of Winwin, what could have happened to him?:0 idk, you might found in the next chapter, who knows?;)) I hope you liking this so far, sorry but I’m more into longer chapter than short ones. Love ya! Oh I’m also posting a Taeyong au later so check it out!

taglist: @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss s @dear-97 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @hana-off-icial

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