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Bro Code

Oscar sighed, coming out of another entertainment interview and feeling completely drained after pretending to be upbeat about the show’s season finale and its renewal for season four. His jaws ached from the smiling and he ran over in his mind the questions he had stumbled on, again and again. Every interviewer, no matter who was conducting it, seemed to want him to address the rumours about the on-set tension. They’d brought it on themselves in a way. His chemistry with Dean on the screen was something all the early reviewers had applauded; the media were always going to be out for blood at the merest hint of tension behind the scenes.

The show had always been an unlikely hit: a romantic, crime-drama series, featuring a gay superhero and his male love interest. Oscar had been thrilled to get the part three years ago, although the production company had been clear that he hadn’t been their first choice. After the pilot, there had been an outcry that the original actor for Oscar’s part was straight. LGBTQI groups had petitioned and made their voices heard loud and clear that that sort of casting was not something they were willing to take lightly. So, only days before full production was set to begin, Oscar had been shipped out to Los Angeles to take over the role and, as far as he was concerned, it had all been downhill from there.

The set had been toxic from day one: a battleground of nepotism and inflated egos. Oscar had got the sense that he was just a necessary evil to the producers. He did his job, helped to pull in the viewers and allowed the show to continue rolling on; but they didn’t have to like him or show any recognition that he was a vital part of their success. The heart of the problem was, and always had been the lead actor himself, Dean Greg. With his family owning a major share in the production company, Dean had strolled straight into the lead role of The Silence; a lesser-known comic book superhero of the late 2000s, and one of the first to be openly gay. Oscar had grown up watching Dean on another show, a teen comedy the guy had gone into straight after finishing high school; Dean’s family had owned that production too. It was partly why Oscar had taken the role on this show so eagerly, despite his blossoming career in the UK; the opportunity to be the love interest for Dean Greg on a prime time show. He could practically hear his sixteen year old self screaming in excitement at the idea. But the Dean he imagined in his head was very different to the reality.

There was a certain skill to Hollywood arrogance and entitlement, but Dean had seemed to master it well. Perhaps it would have been more forgivable if Dean had brought something outstanding to the show, but the reality was, he was nothing special. The man was a comedy actor, and the dark, brooding tone of the show seemed to clash rather remarkably with his style. Oscar had lost count of the number of late finishes he had had, with Dean needing take after take to get things right. If it had been Oscar causing that sort of pressure on the production, he could just imagine what would have been said to him; but not the golden boy.

Back in the days when Oscar watched Dean on his old TV show, ‘Bro Code’, the idea that the guy would one day play a muscle-bound superhero wasn’t immediately obvious. Sure, Dean’s impressive height and build were already there, but he was also pretty overweight and not at all toned. His character, Codey, had been a loveable idiot, lazy and comically laid back about everything in life. Oscar’s crush on him had been deep and he sometimes felt that when he dated guys, he was constantly, and ridiculously, comparing them to the entirely fictional character he had fallen in love with back in his teens.

“Are you worried about type-casting?” asked the next interviewer with a sickly smile; as if she wasn’t asking a question that poked at one of Oscar's biggest worries.

“Not really,” Oscar lied. “I don’t plan on staying in Los Angeles once the show wraps up.” Inwardly, he kicked himself. The producers always told him to never talk about the show ending. Like the superhero it portrayed, they wanted it to be perceived as invincible. “What I mean is,” he clarified, “I’d want to return to the UK and take on some projects there instead. But that’s way, way off in the future. The show still has many more left in it.” he added, hoping that that might prevent him from getting a telling off later.

“Now to the question that everyone is asking,” the interviewer went on. “You and Dean make such a lovely pairing on screen. But, rumour has it that you two don’t actually get along in real life. What can you tell us about that?”

Stifling the urge to sigh in defeat, Oscar simply smiled politely back and prepared to lie for the hundredth time that day. The superlatives that he used to describe his co-star rolled off his tongue with ease, as he denied, quite emphatically, that there was anything but perfect harmony on set. He knew, as well as everyone else did, that that illusion had to be maintained at all times.

The summer break slipped away all too soon and Oscar’s dread about returning was amplified when he read that the first episode was to be shot by a director he particularly despised. He’d clashed with the guy since the first season, and despite making several complaints about the sexist, bullying and outright homophobic ramblings of the man, here he was again, invited back to direct another six episodes this year. The superhero genre wasn’t especially Oscar’s thing. He looked over the scripts, wondering where the fan interest even came from. Episode two read almost word for word like a story they had done back in season two. Then again, he thought with a thrill of excitement, if the viewing figures declined, maybe they wouldn’t get picked up next year!

Dean’s new girlfriend was hovering about on the set, making a nuisance of herself and, inexplicably, getting away with it. Oscar rolled his eyes at the double standards. Unlike the actor who had previously had his part in the pilot, Dean had declared himself bisexual in order to keep his role when all the critics started petitioning the casting. It was all a joke. Oscar had never once seen the guy with anyone other than blonde, petit, plastic-looking things with oversized breasts that made them look overbalanced and ready to topple over.

Oscar climbed into his trailer and collapsed onto his couch, burying his head under the cushions. “Arsehole!” he growled, having just been belittled by his most hated director. “Get me out of this fucking shithole!” he complained into the fabric of the sofa.

Just then, Oscar heard the flush of his toilet and he jumped in surprise. Someone was in his trailer! He sat bolt upright and watched the door swing open. Then, shockingly, Dean looked at him, seemingly irritated that Oscar was even there.

“What are you doing in my trailer?” Oscar asked, disgusted by the invasion into his private space.

“Hiding,” Dean simply replied. “They’ve got some sort of fan experience thing… someone who won a competition to enable them to spend a day on set with me. I don’t know - something along those lines. It’s all bullshit. I’m not due on set for another hour and no one will ever find me in here.” With that, he parked himself down heavily on the chair and grabbed his cell phone, already plugged in and charging from the wall.

“You could have asked first,” Oscar mumbled. “This is the only place I have for myself.”

Dean swiped through his phone and seemed entirely disinterested. “Yeah, I heard your little rant. Who’s pissed you off now?” he asked in a tired and disinterested voice.

“It’s nothing,” Oscar spat through gritted teeth. He didn’t have the sort of relationship with Dean where he could discuss anything. Plus, he was always likely to go reporting back to his family and stir up a whole new load of issues, accusing Oscar of being a trouble-maker. With no friends here, Oscar usually knew his only option was to suffer in silence. He looked at Dean, making himself at home in his trailer and felt the pit of dread in his stomach at the thought of going back out on set. That was when his rage boiled over. “I just can’t fucking wait for this show to be over already.” he almost shouted. “There’s no way in hell I’m coming back next year!”

Dean smirked, still looking at his cell phone. “I don’t like your chances. My dad will sue your ass in the blink of an eye if you try to back out of your contract.”

Oscar huffed in annoyance, but that flat, brutal reminder was enough to silence his complaints, and he simply sat there, grinding his teeth, wishing that Dean would just get the fuck out of his trailer.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t want to be here any more than you do,” Dean stated breezily back. “I never even wanted to do this show in the first place.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, not believing a word of it. “You fucking love it,” he countered. “Or is it stressful being everybody’s golden boy?”

“I’m only here because I have it in my contract that my dad will sign over the rights to my old TV show to me,” Dean stated frankly, looking up from his cell phone at last. “You really think I want to spend the whole of my summer off doing insane workouts and nutrition plans just to play a dumb superhero role?”

Oscar thought for a second. “You want to reboot Bro Code?” he asked in disbelief.

“That show was the best job I ever had,” Dean laughed, with a smile of fond memories on his face. “It wasn’t even acting. I just turned up and said my lines. There was none of this fantasy bullshit to try and make convincing. If I’m honest, I can’t even follow half the scripts for this show.”

The fanboy in Oscar quivered inside. “I’d be over the moon if you ever did manage to bring Bro Code back!” he smiled. “I know pretty much every single line of all six seasons!”

“Really?” Dean asked, sounding mildly interested. “I didn’t know you’d ever seen it.”

Oscar resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d only talked about his great love of Dean’s old show in every single one of his interviews to promote their series. In one fan-favourite interview, he’d been asked to do a ‘Bro Code’ quiz against some supernerds, coming out victorious. He’d always known that Dean didn’t have an ounce of interest in him, so it was hardly surprising that he didn’t watch any of his interviews on TV.

“So, if I did manage to get the show rebooted, where do you think my character, Codey, would be now? Eight years later?” Dean asked, turning a little, like he was genuinely interested in what Oscar might have to say.

Oscar inhaled excitedly. It was exactly the sort of conversation he had been dying to have with Dean for years; back before he knew what a self-absorbed jerk he was. “Codey would be living the life of his dreams,” he chuckled. “That guy always landed on his feet!”

Dean nodded in agreement.

“He’d have married some super-hot chick; probably a chef or something. Everyone would be really jealous of that. He loves his food, so he’s probably eaten so much of her cooking that he’s absolutely enormous by now. But… you know what Codey is like. He’d love it. It would make him feel more masculine. He’d call the other characters puny…”

Oscar was about to reel off a great many more ideas about where he saw the character now, but Dean’s face made him stop. The man’s jaw had dropped and he stared at Oscar with an almost indescribable expression. “That’s EXACTLY where I see him now as well!” Dean exclaimed. “Right down to the super-hot chef as his wife! I’ve asked so many people that question and no-one has ever come close to having the same vision as me!”

“Really?” Oscar asked, genuinely perplexed. “But it’s so obvious!”

Despite the fact that Oscar was pulled back onto set not long afterwards, things between him and Dean seemed to change quite a lot after that day. At first, he was perplexed to see Dean coming to see him in his trailer (never once knocking first), but pretty soon, it became something of a norm. Dean was deadly serious about wanting to bring back his old show, and he gradually began to share his notebooks, storyboards and jokes that he’d been storing up since he’d successfully negotiated the rights to the show from his family; only coming into effect once the current show ended. Laughter began to emerge from the trailer as the pair of them bounced gags off each other and came up with more and more potential plotlines. Within a few short weeks, there was enough material for a full 22-episode season, and possibly more. It was amazing how many stories Codey’s size would create as well; stuff that had never ever been done on television before.

“Won’t you be fed up of wearing a fat suit though?” Oscar asked, as Dean began describing one of the physical comedy sequences he could play out.

“No, I plan to gain the weight for real,” Dean stated with certainly. “Fat suits are for losers. They never look right either.”

“But… your abs…” Oscar mumbled, thinking back to the shirtless scene he’d done with Dean only that morning.

“They’re going!” Dean chuckled, rubbing his flat stomach. “As soon as this shit show ends, I’m going to be downing pints of whipping cream, stuffing doughnuts down my throat and having as many ten thousand calorie days as I can.” He seems more excited by that idea than Oscar had ever seen him. “And I can’t fucking wait!” he smiled.

Late September hit and the fourth season that they had been working on for over two months finally began to air. Reviews for the season opener had been mixed, but as episode two, three and four went out, there was a slow crisis building on set. The writers’ complacency had turned around to bite them. All of Oscar’s concerns about the scripts were being noticed by the fans: the circular storylines, the similarity of the episodes to previous seasons’. Overnight ratings were way down on last year. But, despite the grim looks of the producers, the atmosphere in Oscar’s trailer was one of absolute joy.

“Here’s to finishing in fourth place for our time slot!” Dean grinned, raising a cheeky beer that had been sat at the back of Oscar’s refrigerator for weeks.

Oscar sat with him, pouring over the reviews and fan comments online. They laughed and began to speculate on how episode five would go down the following week.

“One beer and I’m feeling light headed!” Dean chuckled. “My personal trainers and nutritionist haven’t let me had one of these bad boys in ages!”

“Well, if things keep nose diving like this, you’ll be able to have as many beers as you like soon enough!” Oscar grinned. The possibility of the show getting cancelled had been all he had ever dreamed about for years. However, now he was celebrating that small hope with the one thing he had been lacking on set all that time: a friend.

In response to the damning reviews and lacklustre ratings, the writers had embarked on a mad flurry of rewrites. Each day, new pages were being delivered. Oscar laughed at the flaws in their panicked ideas; plot points that were being abandoned and others that directly contradicted things that had happened in previous seasons. Dean nodded along, pleased to know that it was all likely to go in their favour; although he openly admitted that he didn’t follow, or even understand much about the show and its storylines. “Apparently, this website says it’s 50/50 whether we get renewed next year,” Oscar reported, staring down at his cell phone during their break.

Dean stood up and helped himself to the beer he now kept in Oscar’s trailer, away from those who would scorn him for drinking it. “That’s still a fifty percent chance we’re going to be dragged back here next year,” he grumbled. “There’s got to be a way we can bring those odds more in our favour.

Oscar watched as Dean sat himself down sluggishly on the sofa, grabbing a cookie from the pack he had smuggled in that morning. His old image of Dean as the vain, egocentric jerk was slowly fading away. He’d come to see, just as Dean had always said, how similar the guy was to his character, Codey, on Bro Code. What would Codey do in a situation like this?

“Well, I do have one idea…” Oscar began, his heart racing surprisingly fast as the thought came into his mind. “You could always start… gaining a few pounds.”

Dean stared at him in surprise.

Oscar felt the need to justify himself. “I mean, you were planning on gaining weight anyway. But if the execs were on the fence about renewing us… a few extra pounds on the titular character’s body wouldn’t hurt.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose and he clearly pictured it in his mind. “Yeah,” he nodded; his smile getting wider and wider. “I think that could work.” He seemed to rub his stomach mindlessly. “It wouldn’t take much. My personal trainer has me so lean, just ten pounds would send everyone into a tailspin. It’d be obvious.” He sat up, like his mind was whirring into life: how he could do it, how fast it could be achieved. “This is an awesome idea!” he nodded. “Oscar, I think you’ve found the answer to all our problems!”

As far as Dean was concerned, the timing was absolutely perfect. Thanksgiving was coming up, and if that didn’t do it, the holidays certainly would. Mysterious boxes began arriving for Oscar’s trailer and he chuckled when he saw what was inside: fresh deliveries for a hungry guy, determined to lose his job.

“...and a full can of condensed milk,” Dean boasted, listing off the ingredients for a calorie shake he had made himself the night before.

“And you actually drank all that?” Oscar asked, chuckling in amazement.

“It was actually delicious!” Dean grinned. “There are loads of similar recipes online for guys trying to gain a few pounds. There’s so much information as well. If you really want it, you can blow up in no time.”

“And what does Jessica think of you downing these calorie shakes when you get home?” Oscar asked, thinking about Dean’s girlfriend; now six months into their relationship.

“I haven’t told her about our plan,” Dean stated, sounding as if he believed it was none of her business. “She’ll see the results soon enough,” he chuckled, slapping his middle with excitement. “Then she can decide whether it’s something she’s willing to put up with or not. I’m not all that bothered, either way.” He reached across to the box of doughnuts sitting on the small table and took his fifth one that day, biting into it greedily; the largest bite Oscar had ever seen anyone take. He raised it up, like making a toast and mumbled with an almost full mouth, “I’ve got to hand it to you, Oscar,” he nodded. “This is the best fucking idea you’ve ever had!”

Production on the show took a break midway through December, just as it had done every year. Oscar was straight on the plane, heading back to the UK. Although he had managed to keep his unhappiness working on the show away from the public eye, his family all knew and sympathised with him; knowing of the struggles he had had. Now there really did feel like a reason to celebrate. With only four months of filming remaining, Oscar could really be about to be home for good soon.

Dean’s smirk was written all over his face as he arrived at work that January. He’d been late and had rushed through make-up, so Oscar only saw him as he arrived on set, ready for their steamy sex scene that would open an episode, set to air at the end of February. Dean looked entirely refreshed from the break, dressed in his bath robes and strutting on to the bedroom set looking surprisingly pleased with himself.

“Did you have a nice break?” Oscar asked casually. Somehow, Dean’s smile seemed infectious and he felt his spirit lift, just being around the man.

“Very good!” Dean nodded, almost knowingly. “I had the most fun I’ve ever had in my life,” he replied; before the director came over to the two of them to talk them through the scene.

Dean seemed impatient to get going; only just resisting the urge to talk over the director as he impatiently bounced about, waiting to start shooting. Then the moment came. He pulled off his robe, revealing his built shoulders, letting the thick material fall to the ground. All of a sudden, the man was stood there, naked but for his boxer shorts; and the most terrible intake of breath was heard all over the set. All eyes were on Dean’s body. Over the break, a rounded little paunch had started to pop out under his muscular chest. It was meaty and his core remained undoubtedly strong, but it was packed tight and bloated-looking, spreading around to the side so that even from behind his gain was more than evident.

“What’s the matter?” Dean asked, knowing full well why nobody had moved an inch. His grin was one of complete pleasure at his own cleverness and he clapped his hands together, relishing every minute. “Let’s get this party started!”

Unsurprisingly, they were late to begin filming that day. Oscar wasn’t privy to the flurry of phone calls that were going on in the offices. Some pretty high up executives had just been given a very nasty headache on the first day back. Not that Oscar saw any of that. He’d been swept away to film his scenes for later on in the day, while Dean was clearly getting a grilling from someone. Not wanting to get behind on filming, it had been a rush to alter the schedule for the day, and Oscar already knew that he wouldn’t be getting home until very late that night. What on earth had Dean done? Oscar had suggested that he gained a few pounds to hide his six pack a little, but nothing like this! Dean had gone full-on beast-mode, growing a little pot belly in a matter of weeks! The image of it stuck in Oscar’s mind; a sight he would never forget; so bizarrely rounded and full on a man so athletic.

It wasn’t until the next day that Oscar saw Dean again. He’d heard rumours on set that their bloated superhero was to commence filming again that afternoon, but there had been no sign of him. However, there he was, sat on Oscar’s couch as he went back to his trailer for a twenty minute lunch break. His grin lit up the room as Oscar entered and he raised a cool beer up in the air, as if they were celebrating.

“Where the hell have you been?” Oscar blasted as soon as the door was closed.

“Crisis talks!” Dean laughed. “I’ve had so many people breathing down my neck for the last twenty-four hours, you wouldn’t believe it!” He lifted up his shirt to reveal his rounded stomach. “They pretty much painted on a six pack! Like that’s going to fool anyone! They made some clever changes to the costumes and have pretty much decided to hide my belly as much as possible. Apparently, they brought in some lady who’s a specialist at helping conceal pregnancies on screen. Can you believe that?!”

Oscar stared at the completely unconvincing six pack on Dean’s body. He felt a burning curiosity inside himself; like he wanted to ask Dean to remove his shirt entirely and let him explore all the changes properly. “I can’t believe you did this…” was all he could manage to string together.

“It’s insane, isn’t it?” Dean laughed, grabbing an actual wedge of fat on his middle and jiggling it. He reached out, grabbing Oscar’s arm and then slapping the hand down on his rounded middle.

“It’s actually soft!” Oscar shot straight away, trying to ignore the strange arousal he felt.

“It’s fat! That’s why!” Dean chuckled, releasing Oscar’s wrist. “Gain thirty pounds and this…” he pointed directly at his stomach “...is exactly what happens to you!”

“Thirty?” Oscar asked, unsure about whether he was surprised by that number or not. “I thought we said you’d gain ten pounds?”

“Once you start, it’s hard to stop!” Dean laughed at himself, slapping his little belly once more with pride. “This has been the best thing I have ever done. I finally feel like I’m starting to remember who I used to be. I was never into the whole super-ripped body thing. I just got sucked down this strange, narcissistic path because they all told me I’d never work again unless I became what they wanted.”

“What does Jessica think?” Oscar asked next.

“She flew back to Australia to be with her folks over the holidays. She gets back tomorrow. But, who cares?” Dean sighed, still looking pleased with himself. “It’s you I’ve been looking forward to showing. I’ve not told anyone, you know. Fattening me up is still our secret.”

Oscar didn’t know whether Dean meant it or not, but the whole situation suddenly felt a lot more intimate. When he saw Dean rubbing his stomach, it seemed like he was doing so only for him. They shared a look of mutual appreciation.

“We have to be careful from now on,” Oscar stated warningly. “If they get wind that we’re deliberately trying to sabotage the show, we’re in deep shit. You may be related to them, but I’d bet anything that they’d sue and try to take back the rights to ‘Bro Code’ from you. This little belly will have to be it for now. You can’t gain any more.”

Dean pulled a face. “I know you’re right, but I don’t want to stop.” He rubbed his stomach more now; like it comforted him to know his abs had been smothered with a protective layer of fat. “Now that I’ve started, I just want to keep going.”

“Please!” Oscar begged, his heart racing with panic. “We’ve got to slow this thing down. At least until we get official confirmation that the show is cancelled. Then I’ll happily stuff you full of doughnuts myself!” he joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Dean’s eyebrows rose and a boyish smirk came to his face. “You promise?” he asked in an almost flirtatious manner.

A second attempt on the opening scene was being made that afternoon. A couple of changes were being made, whereby Oscar would be the one to walk in half-naked, instead of Dean, who would now be lying in bed, under the sheets. They’d talked it through at a rapid pace, trying to get back on track with the schedule. The sheets were to be draped over them, but the hands would roam and the focus would most likely be on the kissing. That was something new for the show and Oscar felt strangely nervous as he climbed into the bed as they began filming.

In contrast, Dean seemed more relaxed than Oscar had ever seen him during these types of scenes. They’d shared many kisses over the four seasons, but to Oscar, this felt almost like the first time; the first time he was doing it when he actually felt something for the man he had mostly despised up until now. Dean’s large hand held the back of Oscar’s head, pulling him in. Their lips parted and embraced, exhaling passionately a moment later. Oscar could smell the sugary doughnuts on the guy’s breath and couldn’t help feeling excited that Dean had quietly indulged himself somewhere, even after the stark warnings he had tried his best to emphasise to him. He dove in, trying to use that passion for the character, and Dean came back to more than match it. Simultaneously, their lips parted and they both went deeper. They hadn’t discussed using tongues before shooting, but now that they were in the moment, it seemed entirely natural. Now Oscar could taste the sugar on Dean’s tongue and it was sending him into an abyss of lust. He should have stopped the scene as soon as he felt himself getting hard, but, against every one of his professional values, he’d let the scene continue. He felt Dean roll into him more and he winced when he felt their pelvises rub into each other. Then he felt it, and everything was suddenly okay. Dean was hard as well. Their eyes met, knowingly, and the scene rumbled on.

“Cut!” called the director after capturing the final shot. “Guys, that was absolutely amazing!”

“I thought you’d agreed to cool the weight gain for now?” Oscar asked a few weeks later, as Dean pulled out a beer from Oscar's trailer refrigerator.

Dean unpopped the lid and smirked. “I’ve still got to make sure I don’t lose any,” he replied cheekily. “The personal trainer they got for me has been absolutely brutal,” he complained, despite raising his arm and flexing the extraordinary size of his bicep. He finished with a satisfied round of patting on his little stomach, then sat himself down heavily, enjoying the taste of his beer. “Apparently they’re all on edge upstairs. They’re getting the phone call from the network on Friday, letting us know if we’re wrapping up for good this year.”

“That’s happening on Friday?” Oscar asked nervously. In previous years, they had known before the holidays about their renewal. However, back then it had been an easy call to make. This year, with falling viewing figures and declining quality, they’d left them stewing until there were only seven more weeks of filming remaining. He immediately picked up his cell phone and began texting. “My agent in the UK is almost as desperate as me to find out whether we’re cancelled or not.”

“Your agent in the UK?” Dean asked, as if this had been the last thing he had expected to hear. “You’re planning to do some work in the UK after we wrap?”

“I plan to move back completely after this job ends,” Oscar stated simply. “I don’t think I’m quite cut out for the US.”

“What ‘s wrong with the US?” Dean asked a little defensively.

“It’s been the worst time of my life working on this show,” Oscar explained. “Is it any surprise that I just want to get the hell out of here? Los Angeles is such a bizarre place, full of egos, expectations and narcissism. Then there’s the politics and the gun culture…” he sighed. “No, it’s definitely not for me.”

Dean looked red, like he had just been slapped across the face. He upturned his beer and drained it down his throat, stepping back up and announcing that he needed to get back on set.

Oscar had never assumed that Dean would be someone who was so patriotic. With their characters currently split up during some weird alien planet saga that had overtaken everything else during this season, they hadn’t been working together for a couple of days. However, Dean also hadn’t been over to see Oscar in his trailer as he usually did.

The news came that Friday morning, just as Oscar had been hoping. Everyone had been called onto set with glum faces, expecting the worst. Oscar’s look of disappointment was one of the best acting performances of his career. The show was cancelled, ending, kaput, dead! Freedom was coming! He no longer cared that Dean was sulking with him, strolling straight over to Dean’s trailer that afternoon. He knocked on the door, giving Dean the courtesy that he had never received, and waited until Dean came into view. Not a word was said as their eyes met. Dean simply acknowledged him and then nodded his head for Oscar to enter.

Oscar looked around the trailer to make sure no one else was there before he burst out in excitement. “I can’t believe it! Can you? We’re finally free of this shit show!”

Dean didn’t share any signs of excitement, but simply trotted over to the kitchenette to lean against the countertop and survey Oscar more carefully.

“Aren’t you excited?” Oscar asked. Surely whatever had upset him the other day paled into insignificance now?

“It’s the best news ever,” Dean replied, without a trace of enthusiasm in his voice.

“Well… you could tell your face…” Oscar mumbled, feeling Dean’s low mood starting to bring him down too.

Silence followed. The pair stared at each other in a way that wouldn’t have been possible had they not grown so close over the last few months.

“I don’t want you to go back to the UK,” Dean finally stated. “I just kinda assumed that… with all the work we’ve been doing, plotting out the new show, you’d want to stick around and see it through with me.”

Oscar felt touched. The idea that Dean had been upset because of his departure had never occurred to him and he told him so.

“I’m going to be going through a lot of changes soon,” Dean went on, mindlessly rubbing his middle. “Big changes. And I kinda want someone there who I can trust. Someone I can work with to get back into character.”

“What are you suggesting?” Oscar asked. “Are you looking for someone to produce it with you? Because… I’m not so sure I’ve got the skills for that sort of thing.”

“Are you kidding?” Dean chuckled. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Our best ideas for the rebooted show have come straight out of that strange and marvellous head of yours!” He seemed to be thinking on his feet, giving the impression that there was a rush of words trying to gush their way out of his mouth. “All you have to do is glance at one of the scripts for this show and you know exactly what’s wrong with them. Everything that went downhill this season, you called it straight away: every plot flaw, every continuity error, every lame attempt at melodrama, you saw it first. You’re just… incredible! Of course I want you to produce the show alongside me.”

Oscar could feel himself blushing. He’d never particularly enjoyed receiving compliments and he squirmed under Dean’s praise.

“I watched one of the interviews you did a couple of years ago. In fact, I watched almost all of them that I could still find online. You said that you found it easy to pretend that you’re in love with me for the show because you pictured Codey from Bro Code when you perform. You said that you compare every other man you meet to Codey and they always come up short. Is that true?” Dean asked.

It was the second time that Oscar had been stunned that day. The thought of Dean spending his time studying past interviews he had done seemed almost surreal. He tried to shrug off the embarrassment and retreated, promising Dean that he would consider the incredible offer he had just made.

Things lightened between Dean and Oscar after that. With only four episodes left to shoot, an incredible barrage of rewrites were being thrust upon them to bring the show to a climactic finale. The fanbase had been outraged at the cancellation and the inevitable petitions to save the show were already underway.

“Hey, go easy!” Oscar chuckled, pulling a box of doughnuts away from Dean as he slobbed out in his trailer. “We’re not finished with the show just yet. You’re going to give the costume department even more of a headache if you carry on like this!”

Dean laughed and pulled the box back towards him. “Fuck it!” he cheered. “I’ve already told them I’m not doing any more shirtless scenes.” He pulled up the bottom of his t-shirt and flapped it over so that his belly button was on show. His stomach looked bloated; either from the six doughnuts he had just eaten, or from the longer term impact of his new, more relaxed diet. Nevertheless, Dean stared down at his small tummy as if it was the thing he was most proud of in the entire world. “I’m only taking on fat boy parts from now on.”

Oscar chuckled, revelling in Dean’s hedonistic attitude; so much different to the Dean he had known before. Dean smiled too, rubbing his little stomach and moaning as he took another huge, greedy bite of a fresh doughnut; all in aid of making Oscar laugh even more. “You’re so bad!” Oscar teased him. “If only your fans could see you now…”

“Yeah!” Dean agreed, raising his eyebrows mischievously and pushing in the largest piece of doughnut yet; struggling to chew it all and making them both laugh like a pair of giggling teenage girls.

“Does this mean that you’re going to start up those calorie shakes again?” Oscar asked, strangely enthralled by the idea. Dean simply looked down guiltily and smirked. “You mean, you already have started doing the calorie shakes again?” Oscar gasped, laughing even more. Dean’s self-satisfied grin was enough to make Oscar’s heart flutter to the extreme. How he loved this side of his co-star!

“I just want to get fat, man!” Dean stated, rubbing his stomach with the gentlest and most delicate of touches. “Do you think that’s weird?”

“No,” Oscar replied immediately. “It’s been your goal for years to bring back Codey. You’re looking ahead. Of course you want to change your body for the character.”

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged. “It’s not just about that.” Despite slouching on the couch, there seemed to be an energy behind his eyes; a devilish twinkle and mischief that was so easy to fall in love with. “I just want to grow a big, fat belly on me.” He modelled with his hands the shape of an enormous ball sitting almost into his lap. “I tried telling my girlfriend once and she was horrified. She said it would be such a shame if I did that to myself. In the end , I backtracked and told her I was joking. But I wasn’t.” He looked Oscar square in the face. “I want to get fat,” he finally announced.

Oscar knew that he was supposed to say something at that point, but no words came to him. The least attractive quality of Dean had always been that vain ego of his. And now, even that was being stripped away from him. He was funny and playful, laidback and yet headstrong. He knew himself better than anyone else Oscar had ever met.

“Do you think it’s a shame too?” Dean asked. “The fact that I want to just eat and pack blubber onto my body?” His tone was strange. As if, just saying this aloud was somehow erotic for him.

Oscar simply shook his head and stared longingly into Dean’s eyes. He realised now that he had known for some time that there had been more to Dean’s fascination with his weight gain than was immediately apparent. And, even stranger, he found that he was falling even more in love with Dean because of it.

“I think you understand me better than anyone else in the entire world,” Dean muttered, seeming to sense that connection himself. “You’re going to produce the show with me, aren’t you?” he asked, as if he knew that the pair of them should never part.

Slowly, Oscar nodded.

It was a beautiful moment, but not one that could be cherished for long. Only a few seconds after the words had been said, there was a vigorous thumping on the trailer door, calling Dean back onto set. He grumbled, lifting his body up and wiping around his mouth and checking his handsome face in the mirror. He smiled back at Oscar with genuine affection, opened the door and was gone.

As Dean and Oscar poured over more story ideas and mapped out their pitches to the networks, they laughed harder and longer than ever before. No network could ever turn them down. Things could be less secretive now as well. Dean could start getting in touch with other members of the cast to see if they were interested in reprising their roles. It wasn’t just something to talk about anymore. All going well, they could be gearing up for production as early as fall. But there was also another, silent, unspoken aspect to these meetings. As Oscar went over on the weekend to Dean’s house, he noted that there was always food cooking or being consumed by Dean. He tried not to stare as Dean got up again and again to get more food, chewing, nodding and grunting in agreement as Oscar carried on sharing his ideas. In fact, the more Dean ate, the more ideas he seemed to generate about his character’s love of food: episodes centred around eating contests, recipes and his chef wife, who they both decided would have something of a feeder streak within her. It was old-school, recording a sitcom in front of a live audience, but that was part of where the buzz and energy of Bro Code had always come from.

“You could eat ten double hamburgers on stage, right?” Oscar asked, as the plot for one of the stories started entering his head.

Dean laughed and rubbed his stomach. “Even if I can’t, I’ll definitely have a lot of fun trying!” he smiled.

Oscar smiled back, gazing at that handsome face; even more beautiful with a little extra size in Dean’s cheeks. “All the shakes and food seem to be working,” he offered kindly, happy to go off-task for just a few moments. “You’re definitely looking a little huskier.”

The smile that spread over Dean’s face was instantaneous. He sat back in his chair and slouched until the arch of a little paunch was on show. Then, pumped from the compliment, Dean lifted off his shirt entirely so that he could show it off better. “It’s coming,” he agreed enthusiastically. “The girlfriend hates it of course,” he chuckled conspiratorially. “She thinks I’m just depressed because the show is ending!”

Oscar laughed too and shook his head, thinking how little Dean’s girlfriend actually knew him.

“I just can’t wait for it to be a real gut. You know, when it pops out properly,” Dean went on. “I’m loving the sensation of my clothes getting a little tighter though. Just that feeling alone makes me want to come down to the kitchen and drink whole pints of whipping cream!”

“And do you?” Oscar asked, intrigued.

Dean simply smirked and grabbed a little wedge of fat that was starting to form a love handle on his muscular frame. “What do you think?” he replied cheekily.

Dean didn’t put his shirt back on afterwards as the two of them continued to work. It should have been easy for Oscar to concentrate; after all, Dean had been practically naked for most of the first season. However, now his body seemed almost hypnotic, luring him in with the bloated stomach from all that he had eaten that day, as well as the extra pounds that had gathered through weeks of hedonistic indulgence.

Oscar had stayed a lot longer than he had anticipated and it was only when Dean’s cell phone alarm went off that he even thought to check the time. “Oh,” Dean mumbled, clearly shocked by how fast the hours had gone by. “That’s my calorie shake alarm.”

“You have an alarm to tell you when to have a calorie shake?” Oscar chuckled, feeling intrigued enough to follow Dean into the kitchen.

“Of course I do,” Dean nodded, starting to get items out of the refrigerator and setting up the blender on the counter. “Otherwise I get too engrossed in stuff and lose track of time. I used to do the same thing with protein shakes but… these are definitely not protein shakes!” he laughed.

“What things are you putting in this shake?” Oscar asked, picking up a tub of whipping cream and staring hard at the nutritional information on the back. No wonder Dean was starting to look so large!

That wicked twinkle came to Dean’s eyes again and he was quiet for a moment, simply considering something. “I think you should make it for me tonight,” he finally stated. “Come on, it’s easy! I’ve already got everything out. Just pick some things and throw them in!”

Oscar liked the playfulness of Dean and he was more than happy to go along. It felt teasing and arousing; almost romantic. “All right…” he began, pulling the lid off the whipping cream and starting to pour. He watched Dean’s eyes closely for any sign of when he should stop, but the longer he let the thick cream drop in, the wider and more devilish Dean’s grin became. Next he picked up some oil and slopped that in, not wanting the jug to overflow before he had put in a bit of everything Dean had got out. It almost felt like he was making a potion, pouring in one bizarre ingredient after another, in the hopes of pleasing Dean.

“You’re very good at this…” Dean whispered into his ear as the concoction got closer to the brim. He thought he’d finished when he felt Dean’s large hand grab his own from behind, guiding him to pour in just a little more chocolate powder. “That’s better,” Dean continued whispering, almost seductively. “Maybe add a little more of that ice cream too; really make my gut pop!” His large body was so close behind him, Oscar could smell his scent and feel the heat of Dean’s presence pumping out of him.

Oscar, more aroused by Dean than ever before, added the extra scoop and then put the lid on, blending the mixture up. It was thicker than he had anticipated, turning a thick, oozing brown thanks to all of the chocolate powder and sauce. He waited until the blending appeared to be completed, then pulled the lid back off, turned and presented the jug to Dean, who stood staggeringly close, waiting. He took the jug, biting his bottom lip with excitement and then lifted it to his lips. The man began chugging with a ferocity Oscar hardly thought possible. He stood in awe, watching as Dean’s already bloated tummy swelled further and further, inching its way closer and closer to him. But Dean didn’t even stop for breath. He didn’t pause or slow down; only swallowed, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Oscar had expected Dean to split the jug of calorie shake over a couple of days, given how much liquid had been in there. Yet, there the man was, throwing his head back entirely and swallowing the thickest and most sickly dregs that remained. Then, with a manly gasp of personal satisfaction, Dean lowered the empty jug into Oscar’s hands again, partially covering his mouth as he turned his head slightly and burped, long and rumbling through his thick neck. He turned back, looking at Oscar with great satisfaction, waiting for him to comment on what he had just witnessed.

“That was…” Oscar tried, simply lost for words. “I’ve never seen anyone…” Dean’s stare was so penetrating and exposing, Oscar looked down to the guy’s beefy middle instead. “You actually look like you have a real belly right now…”

Dean picked up the empty jug from Oscar’s hands and placed it on the counter behind him, removing the final barrier in their way. “Well, that belly is going to be here a lot sooner after that shake,” Dean whispered in that still seductive and erotic tone.

“I’m pleased that I could help…” Oscar whispered back, daring to look up into Dean’s eyes once more.

What came next seemed completely natural. Despite how often they had kissed on screen, when their lips met this time, it truly was for the first time. Dean kissed so delicately, and yet with more passion than Oscar could ever have anticipated. For those brief few moments, he was lost to the world completely. Nothing else mattered, or ever would matter again. But then Dean jumped back, startled by something; a sound that had hardly even registered in Oscar’s brain, and he scrambled around for his shirt, quickly swiping the remaining cartons from the shake-making into the sink with a single swish of Dean’s long, powerful arm.

“Hey, honey!” Dean shot, scratching the back of his head innocently and not knowing quite what to do with himself as his girlfriend strolled in. “We were just…” he began, in the way all guilty men tried to explain themselves. “We were preparing our pitch to the network,” he finished, looking mightily glad that she had made a noise loud enough to alert him before she walked in and saw the kiss.

Oscar made his excuses and left; now feeling more confused than ever before.

“Good morning!” Dean chirped as Oscar stumbled into make-up that Monday morning, ready to film the penultimate episode. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

“Um…” Oscar began, still not quite awake; having been up half the night going over and over Sunday’s events in his head; second guessing things and almost convincing himself that he had initiated an unwanted kiss, and that Dean would never want to speak to him again. ”I guess so,” he mumbled, very aware of the others in the room, fussing over Dean and starting to get to work on him too. “How about you?” he asked, so as not to appear rude to his co-star in front of the make-up team.

“I broke up with Jessica,” Dean stated frankly, creating a collective intake of breath from the others in the room, who all gushed over Dean like he was a three year old boy who had just fallen over onto rough concrete. “Nah, I’m fine. I’m fine,” Dean countered, brushing the concern away. “I just decided enough was enough. We weren’t right for each other.”

Dean stared at Oscar through the reflection in the mirror, letting him know that he had broken up with Jessica purely for him. He gave Oscar a cheeky grin, making the skin on Oscar’s palms start to sweat. Were they really about to do this? Was he really about to embark on a romance with Dean of all people?

Oscar felt a large hand sliding onto his hip as he stood just to the back of one of the set pieces, reading through the scene one more time. “Why, hello there…” whispered the deep, flirtatious voice of Dean. His sweet, warm breath fell onto Oscar’s neck and he kissed him sweetly there, sweeping his hands onto Oscar’s torso and embracing him from behind. “I haven’t stopped thinking about last night…”

Oscar closed his eyes for a second and allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of Dean holding him so tightly in his large arms. He turned and looked up into the man’s eyes, quite taken aback with how much they sparkled with adoration for him. “I was worried that you might have been regretting it,” he confessed.

“Not a chance!” Dean gushed, using his large hands to brush Oscar’s hair out of his face. “I wanted to call you last night but things were pretty… intense, with Jessica.” All the while he gazed into Oscar’s eyes, then sighed in satisfaction. “I want to kiss you again…” he insisted.

A shy smile filled Oscar’s face and he looked around their dark corner. “Someone will spot us!” he cautioned, laughing.

“So what?” Dean chuckled. “I want them to know. I want to shout it from the rooftops!” However, he could see the caution in Oscar’s eyes and he politely backed off. “Meet me in my trailer later then,” he whispered, skipping away like a lovesick puppy.

Later that day, Dean was sat in his trailer, smiling broadly as Oscar entered. A huge tray of doughnuts was now half gone, laid out on the table in front of him, with another one half eaten in his hand. He grunted in approval as Oscar entered, pushing the remaining half doughnut into his mouth and using his now free hands to reach out for Oscar, pulling him to stand above his lap as he outstretched his big strong thighs.

Oscar chuckled seeing that, despite his eagerness, Dean needed a few more seconds to finish chewing and swallowing before he could even think about kissing. A little of the icing sat to the corners of Dean’s mouth and Oscar swiped them up with his index finger, offering it up to Dean who gladly sucked on it. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” he teased.

“There’s no such thing as a bad time when you’re around!” Dean gushed, puckering his lips and lifting himself up enough to kiss Oscar with incredible passion.

The movement almost caught the perching Oscar off balance and his hand fell onto Dean’s stomach to steady himself. Dean moaned in appreciation, grabbing Oscar’s hand and taking it on a tour of his bloated middle as they continued to kiss. It felt so pleasingly erotic, enjoying Dean in a way that he knew no one else ever had before. Their own, private secret between them both.

“I gained two pounds this weekend,” Dean muttered not long after their lips parted. “I think the little shake you made me really did the trick,” he teased.

“I guess I must have the magic touch,” Oscar smiled, playing along and continuing to rub Dean’s bloated stomach.

Dean’s eyes were wild with lust. “You’ll have to make me some more shakes sometime… Really speed up this gut!”

Oscar grinned, feeling somehow empowered by how mutually aroused this was making them both. “Oh, don’t you worry. I will be,” he teased. The very air around them felt like it was sparking with electricity. “In fact…” he began, reaching back to the table to pick up a doughnut and hearing Dean’s breathing getting instantly heavier with lust, “...maybe we could test out this magic touch of mine right now…”

“Oh, please, yes!” Dean moaned, with greedy eyes on the doughnut and his enormous chest raising up and down. “Feed it to me, please!” he begged.

His hands down, submissively on his lap, Dean allowed the doughnut to enter his mouth, moaning with appreciation at how deep it was pushed. He bit into it like it was the most erotic moment of his life. One doughnut followed another, only stopping when the inevitable calls began for them to get back to work.

“Look at this!” Dean grinned, turning his cell phone screen to face Oscar a few days later. “Apparently we’re an item!”

Oscar’s eyes flashed with surprise as he saw the online article featuring a picture of the pair of them from a red carpet event two years before. It seemed to describe, surprisingly well, how the pair of them had been spending more time together as well as the quiet affection they showed each other on set. “There are bloody spies everywhere!” he quietly complained. “I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought,” he whispered, looking around the set and the prying eyes watching them both. He hated articles like these where there was a glimmer of truth to them. He and Dean had not even been properly intimate with each other and yet, already the world was being told about them. The schedule had been gruelling and the days physically exhausting. The only light at the end of the tunnel was the knowledge that it would soon be over. Not long now and the pair of them would be free to explore their new relationship freely.

It had been hard though; seriously hard! Despite Dean’s epic height and build, the fat he had been gaining was becoming increasingly obvious. He’d lost his ‘golden boy’ status with most of the production crew, as it just became clear that he had completely signed out of this job. His main costume had been altered several times now and the creative cover ups for his budding belly were becoming increasingly hard to achieve. Oscar knew why; Dean was so focused on ‘Bro Code’ and building his body up, he didn’t care that he was making extra work for everyone else. It probably didn’t even occur to him. In his eyes, he’d sacrificed too much time for this show, and he wasn’t about to waste another second. It was part of what he found so irresistibly sexy about him; his drive to now do whatever he wanted, no matter the consequences, or what people thought of him.

After the article, the two guys decided to try and keep things quieter. The last thing they needed was a flood of interest in the show and a last-minute rescue from cancellation. They’d denied the romance to their publicists and quit being seen together so much on set. It was even a little fun, ordering doughnuts and cakes to be sent to Dean’s trailer, then waiting for the inevitable horny messages from the man to come in as he gorged on them during his break.

There were tears on set during the final day, but not from Dean or Oscar; at least, not genuine ones. They made their speeches, filmed the last scenes and participated in the wrap party. But, as Oscar made it home that night, he wasn’t thinking about the fact that he was now unemployed. Setting his alarm for 6am, he knew tomorrow was going to be the biggest day of his life so far.

It would have been hard to describe to anyone else just how intimate food was in Oscar and Dean’s relationship. Oscar knew that in order to make his first time with Dean special, there would need to be lots of it. It would all need to be enticing, indulgent and highly fattening. There wouldn’t be time for any actual work or script writing today. The experience of waiting had left Dean and Oscar feeling like a pair of tightly wound springs, ready to be released. By the time Dean pulled up at nine, everything was prepared. The kitchen counter was loaded with snacks, and the house had a delicious aroma from the fresh baking. Oscar could feel the butterflies in his stomach as Dean strutted out of his car, carrying a fresh coffee in his hand; his t-shirt clinging surprisingly snugly against his now sizeable paunch which had been grabbing the attention of the hungry press for the last couple of months. He’d parked, as instructed, in a spot where his car would not be seen from the road; then a cheesy grin flashed across his face as he noticed Oscar in the window.

Once the door was closed, the boys’ intimate kiss progressed very quickly from being sweet and delicate, to something a lot more lust-filled and hungry. Oscar took Dean’s hand and led him to the kitchen to show off just how much he had prepared for their day together, feeling his pulse pounding all the way down in his crotch.

“I can’t believe you set all this up!” Dean marvelled, seeing all the food out. He nodded towards the counter, seeing the exact same ingredients he used for his calorie shake, already set out, with one shake prepared and still in the blender. “YOU are just the most amazing person I have ever met!” Dean gushed, pulling Oscar back in for another kiss.

Oscar felt himself being pushed up against the refrigerator by the wildly aroused man, their kisses getting deeper and deeper. Dean only paused for a moment, lifting his shirt off and patting his stomach before diving back in again.

As difficult as it was to stop, Oscar eventually managed to tear himself away, catching his breath and trying to resist the urge to just run upstairs to bed with the sexiest man he had ever encountered. But, he’d worked hard to prepare for the day and he knew that just a little more patience would be needed in order to make the most of it. “So… what shall I feed you first?” he asked. “Your superhero days are done. There’s no point in even trying to hold that belly back now.”

Dean’s eyes were insane with lust. He picked up the blender jug and began pouring that fattening mixture down his throat. Oscar could feel his hardness weeping as he watched Dean’s head rise up as the jug slowly emptied, and he admired that strong, thick neck as he gulped and chugged with nothing but the urge to show off for him. When done, he grinned, burped and rubbed his already bloated stomach. “Where do you want me?” he asked, finally ready to be sat down and fed.

Oscar was amazed at his own restraint. He glanced at his cell phone, seeing it was now almost four in the afternoon. Dean had been grazing all day and eaten an absolutely enormous lunch. His gut looked so distended, the difference from when he first arrived was completely remarkable. They’d come close to giving in to their urges many times. During Dean’s fourth calorie shake, Dean had almost lost it entirely as Oscar began to suck him off at the same time. Somehow, they both seemed to know that the longer they waited and the more calories Dean could get down, the better the final climax would be.

“I’m never going home. You know that, right?” Dean joked as he was spoon fed ice cream after dinner. He had a hand resting on his rounded middle and hadn’t been able to stop rubbing it all day long, amazed at the shape it was taking on. “I’m just going to stay here and keep getting fatter and fatter every single day!”

“You’re just so incredibly greedy!” Oscar sighed with lust, watching as Dean bit into yet another double stacked slice of now cold pizza; a monstrously large and masculine bite. It was hard to believe that any man could still be able to consume anything after all that Dean had been fed that day.

Dean seemed to revel in the word, smiling with delight, his eyes dancing with mischief and joy as he ripped off more pizza, chewed and finally pushed the crusts into his mouth before slurping a large quantity of chocolate milk, as if trying to lubricate his throat. “I’m going to get greedier as well. I’ve been looking into it; how to train myself how to eat more. In six months time, all this will be nothing to me,” he boasted, motioning towards the many empty plates and packaging that littered the table in front of them.

“I’m looking forward to it…” Oscar nodded enthisiastically, knowing that he could no longer hold back. Seeing Dean’s dick flex and bulge with such hardness as he talked about training his appetite was the final straw. Rubbing in a little lubricant, he climbed onto Dean’s lap as the man slouched a little more, ready for what was coming and holding three stacked pizza slices in his hand as the final show of gluttony. Oscar only winced slightly as he slowly lowered himself onto Dean’s oversized hardness. He could tell by the way that the man’s eyes glazed over and his chin dropped, emphasising the slight spead of fat under there, that Dean had no restraint left in him either. He gasped, grasping Oscar’s dick in his large hand, before pushing that pizza in with only mindless greed.

Oscar’s eyes bulged. Dean’s sweaty palm was going to make him come too as he slid his butt up and down the big man’s shaft. They both started to maon as they felt it building, gazing into each other’s eyes as if baring their very souls to each other. Then it happened: the longest, most intense and explosive orgasms of their lives. It had been a long journey to get where they were now, yet both of them now knew that there would never be anyone else by their side from now on. Every step into the future would be taken together.

It was not easy being away from Dean, but the play in London had been the least that Oscar felt that he could do for his London-based agent, who had worked so hard to get him work back in the UK. Breaking the news that he wasn’t quite finished with the US just yet had not gone down terribly well, which was partly why he had been guilted into the six week stint in the West End. But, it had been so long since he’d done a real play, Oscar had almost forgotten the thrill of performing to a live audience: the laughs, the gasps, the applause. He could understand why Dean had argued so much to continue filming Bro Code in front of a live studio audience. There was no buzz that was quite like it. Yet, as he slipped back into his dressing room after finishing the second week, he sighed in longing for Dean and looked at the clock on the wall. It was still half an hour until their planned video catch-up call; just enough time for him to take off the make-up, slip out of the back entrance of the theatre and take the taxi to the soulless, one-bedroom apartment he was renting in Battersea.

Just then, there was a knock at the dressing room door. Oscar felt inclined to ignore it as he hurried to get ready to leave. However, the second knock was louder, more forceful and impatient, making Oscar roll his eyes and finally open up.

“Well, hello there!” Dean grinned smugly, taking in the joy that instantly spread across Oscar’s face. “Did you miss me?”

Oscar fell into Dean’s enormous chest and the pair began kissing passionately as they fell back into the room; sweeping the door closed behind them. “What are you doing here?” Oscar asked, still overcome with shock.

“I came to see you, of course,” Dean smirked, already taking his shirt off. “The play was awesome. You were amazing! Just incredible. You so deserve all of those rave reviews!” he gushed.

Oscar barely heard a word of what was said, so captivated was he by the changes since he left almost a month ago. Dean’s belly had been swelling so much. It now seemed so round and firm, overindulged and packed as it was so frequently now. But the fat was also building now in his pecs and his love handles bulged incredibly, giving a new wider mass to Dean’s middle that overwhelmed even the broadness of his chest. It was a belly; a true, fat belly!

Sensing that Oscar was overcome by the sight of him, Dean grabbed Oscar’s hand and placed it on the top of his gut, where it was starting to bulge and become shelf-like. “Oh, yeah. And I may have gained a few pounds since you left…”

“You look…” Oscar began in awe.

“Go on!” Dean smiled, clearly getting more aroused. “Tell me how fucking fat I’m getting!” he demanded excitedly, slapping his gut and grabbing a wedge to jiggle; demonstrating that it wasn’t anywhere near as firm as it looked.

“You look like a complete… lardarse,” Oscar smiled knowingly.

“Oh, fuck!” Dean moaned; his dick instantly smashing against the fabric of his pants. There clearly couldn't have been a better word that Oscar could have chosen to get the man so overtaken by lust. They fell into each other; Oscar’s hands roaming and exploring the changes as they kissed; grabbing and holding the fresh fat that had been packed on. It was a transformation like nothing he had ever witnessed before. That old hunk was gone forever. Oscar was, at long last, dating a real fat guy.

“I hope you packed your appetite?” Oscar smiled as they finally made it out of the theatre. “You haven’t been truly fed until you’ve experienced a proper London stuffing…”

It was incredible the difference a couple of years could make. Gone were the days of Oscar having to promote himself on any old talk show. Now he could pick and choose, knowing that his appearance was a boon to whichever show he had signed up for. His ongoing television and movie work, alongside his association with ‘Bro Code’ and its lead actor, had opened doors for him that he didn’t know even existed. Nostalgia was a powerful thing. Rebooting a show that had once been so successful, bringing it back even stronger than before; churning out outstanding content week after week; it had all led to multiple season orders and awards aplenty. Right now, he and Dean were working on two new pilot projects and had multiple ideas for spin-offs related to the original show.

“So, Season three starts next week and we are all just so pumped!” the chat show presenter lamented, igniting a cheer from his audience. “Is there anything you can tell us about what’s coming up?”

“I’m afraid you’re just going to have to tune in and find out,” Oscar smiled back.

“Well, there is one thing we do know…” the presenter nodded to his audience, trying to make it sound like this entire conversation hadn’t all been roughly scripted beforehand. “It was announced a couple of weeks ago that you’re actually going to have your own character on the show.” At that, a promotional shot of Oscar in character arrived on the big screen behind them both and the audience cheered and clapped excitedly.

Oscar nodded, waiting for the overworked crowd to quieten a little before he spoke. “Dean and I came up with this character sometime around the middle of the first season and we just laughed our heads off everytime he came up in conversation. I could just picture him in my head so clearly, his voice, how he would walk. Dean spent about a year trying to convince me to play the character myself, until I finally relented. I think you’re all going to love him!”

“Speaking of Dean…” the presenter moved on coyly. “I know that fans of The Silence were freaking out when it was announced that you two were actually together in real life, but now it seems that the pair of you are fast becoming the new power couple of Holywood. Which, forgive me for saying this,” he smiled as a picture of Dean came up on the screen behind him, “somehow seems incredibly unlikely!”

His meaning was clear by the choice of picture up on show. There was Dean, in character, shirtless and gorging on a large bowl of ice cream that his sexy and hilarious on-screen feeder wife had just served to him. Oscar sighed in satisfaction. It was an image from the beginning of season two, and Dean was now a lot fatter than even that. “Awh! Isn’t he adorable!” Oscar smiled, making the audience laugh.

“His dedication to the role is outstanding!” the presenter went on. “There’s no way I would gain two hundred pounds for a role like he has.”

Just as expected, a shot of a shirtless and pumped Dean from ‘The Silence’ popped up side by side with another image of him, standing with his new, large and rounded belly at over four hundred pounds. But it wasn’t just the large stomach that was the biggest difference; the fat around his face had made him appear like someone almost completely different, and Dean had been surprisingly joyous as his incredible pecs melted into giant, jiggly moobs. The definition in his arms was gone, but its legacy was apparent in how well he piled fat in those area; making him look even more monstrous than before. His thighs too, once so muscular, had now been coated with a thick layer of fat, giving him an even wider stance as he stood and posed for the shot. Oscar could only gaze at the screen for a brief second before he felt the blood pumping into his groin.

“Don’t you miss the hot guy on the left?” the presenter asked, pointing to the before picture of Dean.

“Not at all!” Oscar laughed. “That guy on the left was an arsehole! I’ve spoken about this before, but the first three years of working on The Silence were awful. I hated him!” he smiled, making the audience laugh at the irony. “He was just trying to be someone he’s not,” Oscar pointed at the screen. “Now he’s much more comfortable in himself as a big guy.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem to have harmed his career at all. If Holywood needs a… larger gentleman,” he tried senstitively, emitting titters from the crowds, “Dean seems to be on everyone’s speed dial. I’ve lost count of how many movies I’ve seen him in in the last couple years!”

“He’s a very busy boy!” Oscar nodded proudly, seeing that the production crew were signalling to wrap things up for a commercial break. Just in time as well; there was only so long that Oscar could discuss Dean’s incredible growth without flushing a bright red with arousal.

Back at home that evening, Oscar only had a short wait for his lover to return; just enough time to prepare his calorie shake and leave the ice cream out to soften.

“I’m home!” the big man called as he strolled in, immediately removing his shirt and unbuckling his pants, letting his large, open belt swing at the crotch as he pounded into the kitchen.

“Mmm! There’s my beautiful fat boy!” Oscar grinned, heading over to Dean to greet him. “I can see you’ve eaten well today,” he smiled, rubbing his hand across the man’s large stomach and feeling that it was tight. In contrast to what many might have thought, movie sets were a surprisingly awesome place to fatten up, considering the constant on-site catering that was available.

“I gorged like a little piggy all day long, just for you…” he teased, kissing his lover once more. “Is my shake ready?” Dean asked; his excited boner already pushing up against the fat that had invaded his crotch.

“What do you think?” Oscar smiled back, proud that Dean was still so keen to pump himself up with fat and calories. He watched on as the fat man strolled ahead to the counter; the fat rippling and jiggling in his love handles and the altogether new way he was walking with such a wide rear on him now. Then the four hundred and forty pound guy lifted that shake to his lips and began the chug; his free hand unable to resist the temptation of rubbing the soft fat of his underbelly, grabbing and jiggling it for his own pleasure. Then he put the empty jug down, burped loudly, before taking the second one to his lips and annihilating that too. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, grabbing the spoon and open carton of ice cream to begin that next.

“Grilled chicken salad,” Oscar lied jokingly, making Dean laugh. They’d plotted a storyline for the end of season three where Dean would have to be visibly fatter in order for it to work, igniting their shared passion for overindulging Dean more than ever. Whole new realms of obesity and gluttony. Five hundred pounds had seemed like a fantasy for so long. Now it felt like it was just around the corner. “No, don’t worry, Fatso…” he smiled, walking over to side-hug the big man and appreciate just how wide and thick he was still getting, “...you won’t be disappointed!”

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writingmochi · 1 year

Text

“smirch” episode 2: jay

cast: skater & stoner!jay ✗ rival school student!fem.reader

synopsis: jay park likes liberty, something he felt every time he is either high or on his skateboard. selling weed for the students along with sunghoon, jay will do anything that helps him survive his life in korea. at a time when two rival schools are in a rugby match, it is the perfect time to do business, but he’s intrigued with you, a student from the rival school, who brought a plastic bag of cans of cat food

genre: teen drama, coming of age, slice of life, high school au, fluff, comedy, angst, mature content (drugs, suggestive themes, mental health)

based on: tv shows skins uk; specifically gen 1 banner intro video inspired by series 1′s opening (2007-2013) and skam norway (2015-2017)

word count: 27442 (27.4k)

warning(s): mc has anxiety and selective mutism, mention of overprotective parents, mention of neglectful parents, mention of drugs and consumption of drugs (cigarette and marijuana), drug-dealing, mentions of minor injuries, mention of dead animal, steamy make-out scene, not really a warning but mc used to live in the UK so she's gonna use british slangs and words equivalent to the ones used in american english (if i forget some or wrong in some way, let me know)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction. do be careful and read the warnings at the top as both the chapter and the series as a whole will contain serious and sensitive topics.

hello! thank you for waiting a FREAKING YEAR since the last episode my god. this is supposed to be released on jay's birthday and 420 day (cause he is a stoner in this fic *wink*) but because of a tragedy that landed the kpop industry. i didn't post it out of respect. so i try to polish it as best as i could which means adding and deleting plots that make sense within this fic and the smirch series (if you've read heeseung's ep, you're gonna see references that are thrown here too) also, because both mc and jay comes from a wealthy family with a business, you're gonna read business jargons from my business major and from watching too many "succession". oh, i’ve also opened an ask my character/behind-the-writing content for this series that you can check out right here. definitely recommend it if you are curious about what the characters have been up to in between the episodes so do ask and enjoy the messiness!

masterlist

jay felt naked without his skateboard by his side, but that is the consequence of delivering the stuff this day. heads upon heads all moving to one side as he lets out a tremendous sigh. his friends walk in front of him into the field on the school grounds, yet it’s not his school.

multiple pairs of feet drag on the stony pathway as they are walking around him, but he’s standing still in the middle of this commotion. jay opens the zipper of his backpack that dangles only one strap on his shoulder, pulling out the black plastic bag sat inside with his small notebook that has his marker stuck to it. after zipping the back, pages open as he searches for today’s date, who bought it, and the amount they're paying: matching the names to the accounts they used to contact him on their location—the plastic bag dangling on his wrist.

looking up from the book and screen, he can see his friends strolling to the bleachers—jake somewhere on the field, warming up for his match. jay sensed a tap on his shoulder as he faces where the touch comes from, seeing sunghoon looking at him; a smirk formed on his face and an unknown girl wrapped around his arm, not from the two schools competing today.

“you can handle giving them by yourself, right jjong?” sunghoon questioned, eyebrows raised as he retreats his hand back while jay’s looking at his best friend and the girl he knows he will find the next morning at their flat.

“of course, i’m used to it. fucker.” he replied, rolling his eyes, as the two boys chuckles. sunghoon then walks away, leaving him alone as he sees his friend’s hand lowering down the girl’s back—walking somewhere that isn’t the seat of the rugby match. jay looks at the two sets of bleachers behind the tall silver fences, one where his school seats—the maroon and silver uniform ties on the necks of the people watching are enough for him to know—and the other where the rivals seat with their dark blue blazers instead of the black ones decelis uses. his eyes scanning the perimeter for the faces of the people that are going to pick up their order, looking for the appearance he has memorized from stalking their instagram profiles.

when the bat mascot came out to the sidelines, waiting for the teams to arrive at the field, he already meets a few of his customers. one was a member of a dance club of the school called “stray kids“. another one is the bassist for a band club that was rejuvenated after the seniors that are leaving one by one because of graduation. by the time he made his way to 1/4 off his list, he detects the orange and blue outfit of the moon knights, eyes scanning for a specific back which has written ‘sim 05’ on it, seeing his friend huddle up with the coach and his teammates. his eyes didn’t leave the field before the kick-off—the perfect time to hand the rest as other people are too focused on the game.

walking all around the bleachers—both of his own school and the rivals—jay can’t help to find the place where his friends sit. while walking down the stairs by the seats, he found them. taehyun recording the match with his digital camera, kai watching while also having another agatha christie book in his hand, sunoo and his best friend cheering for jake and following the chants that the seniors signals on the drums beside the bat mascot, and heeseung sitting beside beomgyu’s sister, hands interlock with each other while the brother is nowhere to be found.

jay does this every time his school has an event: opening a batch order along with sunghoon, closing it around three days before so he can pick the leaves and package them in his flat, then giving it to the people for a cash amount. a sporadic shop opens if they go to parties he or his friends find; usually either from heeseung, sunghoon, or beomgyu. all in all, he has done it so that he could be financially independent—as much as a high schooler could be independent. jay knew his market and the demand—something he learned from visits to his dad’s company back when he was in the US—he utilizes that as best as he can, being a homemade dealer who grew his stuff himself.

nearing the end of his list was around halftime for the rugby match. he can see the echos—decelis cheerleading team—doing their performance while the chants of his schoolmates' echos on the open field and surrounded by levant high; the home of their rivals today. a loyal customer of his just left his peripheral after getting her order as his eyes wander to the two bleachers he stood in between before landing on a group of cheerleaders from levant on the opposite side with their glittery purple outfits. aura is written on their torso in white with a flowy style like the ones the wind wakers has on their merchandise for enticing school spirit in the match season.

that’s when his eyes move again to see one of the cheer members sitting beside a girl in levant‘s blue blazer, speaking to her as she looks to the grass beneath her feet. a dark plastic back in her hands hanging above ground, swaying slowly from the blow of wind.

the echos finish performing as the cheer member besides the girl stood up before ruffling the girl’s hair, earning an offended look from her as the cheer member laughs before going to the field. jay then watches the other cheer member standing up to huddle with the member who sat beside the girl—the cheer captain—as they all give you a look that lingers on you, something burning as her shoulders slightly pop. even he could feel that sudden shiver from a few meters away. the girl sits back on the seat as she lifts the plastic bag and a hand appears to push it up onto her lap. something heavy is inside it.

the auras perform as he delivers the last orders on his list before going to the seat that taehyun and sunoo have put their bags on for his place as the second half starts. but he didn’t watch the match all the time. unlike his friends, his gaze somehow landed on where the girl is sitting. seeing her sit on the seat while eyes trailed the ball flying in the air, unlike the cheer captain beside her chatting along and cheering for the team. not even seeing her opening her mouth to speak.

it is the end of the match when he also stood up on the bleachers as the knights defeat the wakers by such a small margin. a well-performed comeback by jake as he gets the final score, seeing heeseung running down the bleachers and hugging the team along with jake’s teammates. jay lets out a smirk as he can watch the wide face on jake’s face—he deserves the captain role for this season—before his eyes view the disappointed levants who lose in their own home. a face of gloom as their crowd cheers for a good match, showing their sportive side.

he and his friends climb down from the bleachers as the decelis crowd blends in with the levants on the way out, creating a mob that moves in one stream like sardines. he bumps other students from all over his sides as they all just want one thing, to go out of the goddamn place. that’s when somebody slams onto his body with too much force, his abdomen pushed by a heavy item as he arrives at the open area where the crowd disperses. the person who bumps him must not be too far from him as he turns his head before something heavy rolls against his foot.

a can with a photo of a cat at the front?

jay looks up from the can that rests on his foot to find a girl crouching down, picking up similar cans in her hands before putting them into the plastic bag, a black plastic bag.

when she turns her body and walks away, jay finally realizes who she is. who he bumps into—well, who bumps into him.

the girl he saw before by the auras. you.

your figure retreats as he picks up the can before it got destroyed by people stomping on it. straightening his body, he glances at a few girls walking in front of him in levant‘s cheer uniform. the girl who sat beside you is one of them.

“so you’re just gonna let your sister walk away like that?” one of them said. seeing the girl clearer as something pops up in his head. familiarity.

“yeah, what a weirdo.” another said before they all looked at the girl. he tries to match the face with the name that he knows he recognized.

“let her be. i shouldn’t force her to sit with us.” her voice says as they travel away to the school building. jay stares at them as the name and face click in his head, his eyes glance to look at your retreating figure. connecting the last puzzle piece to find the connection between the two of you.

as a partygoer and a dealer, he has a fair share of people he recognizes either by buying his stuff or just by popularity. she is in the latter category.

jay knew the girl’s name is somi, and she is a senior. he can assure himself that he knows the face and, now, the name. he wasn't aware that she has a sister.

is that why you were so estranged?

jay’s head turns towards where you go as his tall stature helps to find you turning a corner outside the field and on the main street of the school. his legs instantly reacting as he chases after you, his backpack on his back while the can is in his hand. he almost lost you, a few seconds behind your figure. you turned away to a corner as he arrived at the intersection, disappearing like a ghost walking through a wall. but when he arrived at a small street right near levant high and don’t see you, he walks ever so slowly on the asphalt road. an entrance to an alley is visible in his view.

jay peeks from the corner to find someone crouching in the empty small alley wider than his wingspan. an abundance of fluff surrounding the figure, realizing the dark blue blazer the figure wears.

you.

meows surround you as jay also hears the sound of cracked open aluminium and you dropping the contents near the alley’s wall. the animals enclose as they all lean down to eat the food you give. jay steps in closer as he sees you tilting your head at the stray cats eating their food. the salty smell of fish filled the air as he focuses on how a smile formed on your face. even though he only saw a half, he can know yours is a pretty sweet one like a few of his friends have. his shoes moving on the ground creates a few scrapping noises that make the cats’ ears perk but haven’t moved their heads yet and focus on their food. the hand holding the can have sweat forming on it.

he steps closer as carefully as ever, doesn’t want to distract you or the cats and kittens he sees enjoying the feast. but his nose twitched every time he steps closer so that he could give the can. the felines’ ears perk again as he steps closer, the itch on his nose getting stronger as he tried his best to rub it away with his empty hand.

god must hate him as his face contorts, letting out his manly-ass sneeze.

his eyes immediately open to find the cats all having their fur rising, tails puffing up, and you drop to your knees from your crouching position—a shocked look on your face as it turns to despair when the cats run away from where you both are. your head turns to the cats running to hide as you then turn towards him, eyebrows furrowed.

“ugh.” was all you can let out as you put the contents of the can you held on to the leftovers of the feast. jay looks at you, guilt swallowing him up.

“sorry. i, i wanted to give you this.” he pushed the can to you as you crouched back, eyes squinting at him before you pulled the can from his grasp and put it into the empty plastic bag that you’d put in your blazer pocket.

he sees you moving from your position as you sit on the ground and lean against the wall across from where the cats should be eating. you were tying up the bag with the last can you didn’t notice was not there in your bag. you rub your face with the back of your hand, expecting the decelis boy to leave before you heard the scrapes and someone sliding down beside you. peering from the corner of your eyes you see the decelis rummaging from the pocket in his backpack and pulling out two things—one of them is a lighter.

he puts a stick that looks too thick to be a cigarette between his lips, cupping his hand near the lit flame as he inhales before letting out a cloud of white smoke, head leaning back against the wall like you. you find out the scent you smell is no scent of burning tobacco.

the guy’s a freaking stoner.

jay can sense the burning gaze on the side of his head as he looks to see you peering at him, eyes wandering from his side profile to the joint in his hand. he takes that you didn’t notice his prolonged stare at you, your sight focusing on the stick in his hand.

“a joint?”

jay spoke, feeling regret as he could only offer that. the only one he had left in his bag. his hand recognizes the heat spreading inside the stick as you look up at his face before returning to the item in his hand. that’s when you pinch the stick between your own fingers and he lets go, letting you take a small inhale. he thought you might cough from the unfamiliar sensation but you surprised him by taking another inhale, this time a large one, as you let out a fluffy white cloud.

you can handle your smoke seriously, jay thought.

“you’ve smoked before?” he asked, seeing you pause your hand with the joint between your fingers. he sees your eyes moving from his face to the joint then back, shaking your head.

“cigarettes then,” he said as you shrug, giving out the joint back into his fingers as you turn to gaze at the abandoned cat food, no cat in sight. jay can’t help but listen in on the serenity of the situation. in an alley somewhere near his rival school, deep enough to muffle all the sounds of car honks, people talking, and legs bustling down the street. he stays there with someone who seems to appreciate the serene atmosphere too. maybe enjoying it too much because he hadn’t heard you talk at all.

“sorry that we won against your school. i just have to tame my friend down in the field so y’all can get your chance.” he chuckles right at the end as you shrug your shoulders, a remorseful expression on your face before giving a nod and a thumbs up.

jay takes another puff as the cloud floats to the blue sky between buildings not tall enough to engulf the two of you. the white joins in with the water-made clouds on the blue background. though he enjoys the quietness, it still weirds him out, especially coming from having someone else living with him.

being flatmates with sunghoon and heeseung has its perks, but quietness is not one of them—especially for sunghoon cause he never seems to be quiet because it’s either he, the girl he brought home, his bed, or his wall that creates the noise. coming from a place like seattle was different enough, a place on the west coast of the american continent that, in his opinion, is a balance between loud and calm. but then, his parents decide to move him from a seaport city to a metropolis in korea without their guidance, just knowing heeseung—back then an acquaintance of his because both of their fathers are friends—goes here to decelis high.

jay was a special kid. an only child of a new money family who, by destiny, will be the only one to inherit the wealth his dad has accumulated. his parents know this too: making him go to different classes to learn the most spoken language other than his native korean and sort-of native english; treating him to the highs of life by bringing him to go to vacation in a yacht; and all the craps he has done. but jay has always wanted one thing.

liberty.

no matter what he wants, his parents will always be involved. if he wants a toy car, his dad always bought a lamborghini one, not knowing he wants a BMW instead. when he wants to eat fried chicken, they brought him to a fine dining restaurant at a hotel when all he wants was to eat fast-food fried chicken at KFC. it all seems, to him, his parents don’t respect his own wants and needs; always divert him to the “correct” path so he could stay in the upper-class lane in a minority part of some 400 million-populated united states.

that’s why he agreed to go home to his home country on his own. heeseung—being there—is enough for his parents to trust him. all of that so he can get the freedom he craves.

jay’s savings are always brimming with his parents’ allowance that is much bigger for his liking, believing that their son wants to pamper himself and heeseung if he likes. he is always been a generous fellow after all—giving tips to the minimum wage workers he encountered. but he always lied to his parents when asking about how much money he now has on his debit card, hiding from them he hasn’t spent much at all. because he rather tried to get money on his own.

teenagers like to experiment with other things to find their “true” selves. so it isn’t a surprise that drugs are one of them.

jay always thought that drugs were always a bad thing. but when he discovered that caffeine is also a drug, his perspective changed. drugs are dangerous because of how people want to consume them; it could be addictive, it could be hallucinogenic, and it could be depressant. it can get you high or it can make you travel to another dimension. cigarettes were too common for a drug along with caffeine and alcohol, and he doesn’t want to break people up by making chemical-based drugs like cocaine or meth. he picked the safest and most natural route that gives enough high: weed.

he didn’t expect he got a best friend and business partner who will do what he wants. sunghoon is a classmate of his back from his first year until now. they’re seatmates too back then as they both have the same surname of “park”—the only ones in class. sunghoon told him everything. his parents, being diplomats, made him stay at home with his beloved grandfather nearly two hours away from school. they talked about each other’s struggles to be from such high-status parents that they bond easily. sunghoon’s grandfather was a pretty rebellious kid himself—as told by his grandson—so he allowed sunghoon to live with him and heeseung, not wanting to tie him down.

jay comes to like and enjoy his group of friends. heeseung and sunghoon are his flatmates, jake the jock—though the boy himself doesn’t like the stereotyping, kai the brain, taehyun the quiet, sunoo the friendly, and beomgyu, who is seemingly the de facto leader alongside heeseung. with the inclusion of girls too such as sunoo’s childhood friend and beomgyu’s sister who is seemingly on good terms with heeseung after the debacle between them and her brother. he can see the cracks in the group there, getting more showing as beomgyu seems to be more unexpected than ever, taehyun staying by his side more often than usual.

“so you don’t talk or?” his mouth blurted out as he can only think of one thing with your quiet self beside him. his head moves to examine the corners of your mouth lifted, mouthing “depends” and he can pick up how the air around creates a slight sound from how your mouth moves.

hearing something rubbing the asphalt, he turns to see you’ve stood up, one hand holding the plastic bag with the last can of cat food, the other pulling out your phone from your blazer. as the screen illuminates your face, your eyes widen before you glance back at him. your palm opens, curving motion to him as he puts his palm in it as both grasp with each other and you pull him up with your might. his head moves flowy as you look closer to his face, seeing his iris dilated but not that much as he seems sober enough.

“go home.” you mouthed, no voice heard, as you pat his shoulder before pointing back behind your shoulder and giving him a tight-lip smile with a small wave. leaving him behind with his joint nearly burnt out in between his lips as he stares at your back before disappearing around the corner.

that was the only time he regretted not bringing his skateboard so he can chase you down. but he found another smell mixing with his marijuana. the scent of a rose that could come from one person: you.

the thoughts of you show up in jay’s mind sporadically. any time he catches sight of a stray cat. any time he smells the fragrance of a rose. any time he sees that dark blue blazer on a teenager. it’s as haunting as the day he moved here. the looming presence of his parents on each of his shoulders. you’re now in their place.

it truly is weird, he realized. he didn’t know you until that day. the pieces of knowledge he has about you from that minuscule interaction are: you’re a levant high student and, presumably, you’re the sister of one of the famous students in that, (l/n) somi. jay has always learned to stay determined and focused on what he wants. any knowledge or information he could get that is beneficial to him. but it contradicts what his parents allow or don’t allow him to do or act. he is determined to support his group of friends any other way. he is determined to be independent outside of his wealth. now, he is determined to get to know you.

days have passed since you left that alley. he never expected to see you soon, especially with the heightened rivalry of the rugby season. he never said never because as jake said while twirling his rugby ball, “though we beat them. this is still preliminary. they can come back.” he could still find you someday, sometime.

but the universe said otherwise when he did “errands”, with only a couple of packages left to deliver as he roams the street downtown, passing by buildings of stores when he recognize the arcade heeseung introduced to him a week ago. and the group of dark-blue-blazer-wearing girls crowding a claw machine outside.

the haunting starts once again when he sees the blazer. but this is different. one familiar head stood out to him, the only quiet one in a group of cheering girls, as one of them successfully got a plushie. all except for her.

“great job, lily!” he catches one of them saying as he steps to the side, somehow hidden, but he can still listen to them.

“thanks, guys.” he heard the distinct australian accent—something he’s familiar with from hanging out with jake a tad bit too much.

all of their figures covered the last girl as they faced away from jay. the only one not having their hands full wrapping the plushie. the tallest out of the three approaches the girl. his eyes widen as he realizes who is being hyped up.

“come on! you can do this, (y/n)!” the girl said as she shake your shoulders. you give a tight-lip smile, seeing how tense your body is as if you’re holding something back. another girl with long hair pulls out a silver item from her pocket—a coin glinting under the sunlight. he views how each member of your group kisses the coin with you holding it and giving the ultimate kiss. you push the coin into the slot as the claw machine hums. the girls surround the machine, obscuring him from the prizes.

he was also holding his breath as the claw moved from the joystick you were handling. big shifts to the upper-right side before you do small jerks, adjusting the claw to your chosen prize. the anticipation kills him as he can only watch the descending claw before it’s concealed by the girls’ figures. he waited and waited for at least a che-

“four out of four!!!!”

your friends were jumping around as you kneel to get your prize, laughter flutters in their space from the surprising yet expected outcome. what he can’t believe is that even you laugh, the corner of your lips rising as you smile the widest he has ever seen. but it doesn’t last long as your curved corners fall. when he looks up at your eyes to see them focused on him.

you grasp onto your new—not surprising—kitten plushie, hugging it closer to cover the lower part of your face. your eyes fluttering away from his eye contact but your head is still facing his way as if you’re blanking his existence out of your mind and presence. the sudden change in you felt like whiplash to him, but it’s as if your friends expected it to happen as they near you before guiding you to walk away from the machine and arcade; leaving him with your lingering sense once again. smell, and now, sight.

jay didn’t expect so many orders from levant high students after the game. usually, an influx of sales came during sports season but no influx is attributed to a specific school—he wonders if something happened for them to want to try weed. maybe it’s because of that new tv show filled with teenagers doing unexpected shit, or people trying to experience something new other than cigarettes.

he had to wander from here and there around their area for about a week now, delivering the goods. sometimes finding them in hidden places like a dark pc bang near the rows of shops a few blocks from their school. sometimes in the open at the usual skating park he goes to. it was a wonderful week for his business out of the expected great season he hopefully gets in selling. but it’s also a busy one as his business partner is pining over multiple girls. yes, plural. changing one right after the other any other day. he will not be surprised if his dark circles will be more prominent in the following days as the sound of banging walls comes from behind his headboard.

twirling his black marker, the wind is blowing his hair out. his body tilts and balances as the skateboard beneath him rolls on the roughly-textured flat surface of the sidewalk. he looks at the approaching high walls of his school’s rival, the sea of students splitting up from his way before leaving specks of them as he nears the gates. the boy sees a bunch of people by the bus stop when he stops and kicks his skateboard up to grab it. pulling out his phone, he awaits his last customer’s confirmation of their whereabouts. their last message was to meet him by their school entrance.

jay’s sight wanders around the environment before his feet brought him near the front gate of the school. the benches that line up the road are vacant—he remembers his friends and him waiting there before the match where he is left. the students must have gone back to their respective homes to make them so vacant, but there is no sign of his buyer. that’s when he thought he misheard something.

sniffles.

surely spring’s weather causes people to have a runny nose and make them sniffle it up. but this one is not that. heck, there’s nobody he passes by while he is there listening to that faded sound.

jay turns to find the source before landing on one site. a figure folding its body forward is sitting on one bench obscured beneath the shadow of a tree. their hands covering their face as their body shook from the uncontrollable emotions flowing out. the sniffles getting louder as he nears them. but the scrapes of the ground each time he steps closer didn’t help. the person lifts their upper body before wiping the fallen tears on their cheekbones.

you.

you rubbed away your cheeks multiple times as if the stain still sticks, nibbling your teeth as you look away from the boy in front of you. the sound of a crunchy plastic bag is heard from beside you as he sees the glimpse of aluminium cans inside. his mind returns to how your eyes gazed at him a week back. first with annoyance, second with caution. today, with overwhelming foggy grey resembling the dark clouds waiting for its time to drop rain.

“hey-“

you stood up from the bench when jay called you, grabbing onto your belongings and walking towards him on the almost non-existing dirt path. you stride past his body away as your steps increase in pace, faltering away outside the gates as he turns around. something you have done to him twice. though he is under different circumstances: he doesn’t need to follow you. all he can do is leave you behind to deliver the goods and get his money. or he could follow so he can comfort you. because, though he only knows you as that levant girl who gives food to stray cats, he never offers somebody his roll.

as if he can smell your rose scent as a trace, he frowns before following your retreating figure meters away from him, opening the text to his customer before saying.

“fuck u for ghosting me. u’ll get ur goods tomorrow.“

jay can’t use his skateboard to get to you as the street is full of people. moving around people waiting for the crosswalk lights to turn green, around customers buying street, and any other person of all shapes and sizes. but his tall stature helps him see you at the edge of his vision, catching you turning corners before he runs to get you.

jay heaves as he turns the last corner, his shoulder leaning against the brick wall as he slumps—he regretted not joining the weekly jog jake does along with sunghoon and beomgyu. eyes looking down at the asphalt while he catches his breath, he uprights his figure so he can continue to follow you.

“for fuck-“ he jumps as he sees an apparition in front of him.

you standing right before him.

an unamused look that is unnatural in your bloodshot eyes burns him. yet, for him, it makes sense.

you nibble your bottom lip as you gaze at him, tilting your head, silently telling him to speak. jay never felt this startled that his senses are hyperaware—even he can listen to chirpings from blocks away.

“i wanna offer to help you give out the food.” he made up something as best as he can. yet, he can see from your eyes that you weren’t believing him completely.

“you know, repaying what i’ve done a week ago?” he rubs his neck.

you killed it, jay. for god’s sake. he thought. he can easily turn around before he embarrasses himself again. jay has never been bold to comfort someone. but you intrigue him. you intrigue him so much more than the crush he got on his classmate back in the first year, before sunghoon got her first and hook up with her. how you are, allegedly, the hidden sibling of one of your school’s popular students, is shocking in this day and age where social media and people prying on people’s privacy are normal. yet, you don’t even seem to talk at all and you’re not treated the same as somi is in your environment.

you push your hand out, open palm, as you sniffle back your leftover emotions. with your other hand, you point to the name tag on one side of your blazer.

(l/n) (y/n). the same last name as who he can now confirm is your sister.

“i’m jay.” he shakes your hand with his before he sees you tilting your head again, looking towards his chest. he follows your eyesight to the name tag on his blazer that is written park jongseong.

“it’s my birth name,” he replied before he caught your hum and let go of his grasp. you use your chin to point towards him before turning around, signaling for him to follow you as you grab one can from the dangling plastic bag and push it to his hand.

he tried his best not to scare any feline you’ve called or approach the two of you as you open the canned food, especially trying his best to not sneeze. you and he walk around one neighbourhood full of stray cats as one by one, the weight of the plastic bag lightens with the now empty cans being put inside to be put away and recycled.

in the last alleyway he and you travel, the adult cat there seems to have known your presence, approaching you when you walk closer and rubbing against your legs so you can lean down and pat its head. squeaks and tiny meows enter his ears as he looks at a cardboard box that is lightly shaking. jay approaches closer alongside you as you put the can with the leftover food for the cat, crouching down to see a litter of kittens inside crawling around and even attempting to climb outside the cardboard box. the scratchy sound of the claw against the box’s texture seems to excite the other ones so that they all wake up.

jay felt something wet on his hand as the cat—the mother of the kittens—smell his scent before rubbing her head on his palm, allowing him to pat her head and body gently. you let yourself sit on the asphalt alley as you picked up the kittens outside and onto your skirt-covered lap, hearing your small chuckles along with the kittens’ meow as they scattered around the two of you. he follows suit as a few of them approach him and even climbing onto his skateboard as the kitten’s stance change from the swaying board.

the serenity he recognizes between the two of you comes back in his mind as he stares at the fluffy felines who approach him and then you. one of them seems to like you enough that they stick to you while their siblings wander towards his sitting space or eat with their mom. the sun above them is now falling towards the west as jay enjoys a moment he hasn’t done before. knowing his parents’ “overprotectiveness”, he could never play outside, let alone play with stray animals.

“thank you.” someone says before he lifts his head from a kitten on his lap to you, who is glancing at him. he didn’t even realize it was you who spoke before he is a beat too late.

“she speaks!” jay exclaimed as he sees you pout, shaking your head. as you continue playing with the kittens that are surrounding you. picking one up to put in your lap, you let the kitten playfully bite onto your finger as he stares at it, wondering if you felt the pain from the bites or if you're benumbed by it.

“so, correct me if i’m wrong, but your sister is somi, right?” he asked, which make quiet down before you slowly nod, the corner of your lips turned slightly upside down. yet, jay doesn’t notice and continues his tangent.

“how has anyone not known of your presence?”

“i like it that way.” you cut him off. you sigh as you grab the kitten’s small body off of you, scooting closer. it scared you that your voice might be too soft so he couldn’t hear. well, you rarely talk after all.

“my sister and i are two different people.” you spoke to him, so soft and so articulated that he can hear a certain accent that you have. “what you presume about her cannot be the same as how you presume about me.” you tilted your head away, not wanting to lay your eyes on him. yet, your voice envelops his mind with how pretty yet haunting it is, especially from your quiet persona.

his mind recalls how somi is one of the people in the wealthy crowd. how, technically, you can be known as a chaebol, feeding from the silver spoon that your parents have served you. an old money family and maybe much wealthier than his own family. you lean your head to face him once again, your eyes staring his way but avoiding his own eyes, lips pouting as he gazes at you.

“maybe i’m much more like you,” you said, looking down at your palm before putting two fingers up from one of your hands, resembling how one holds a roll of cigarette right in between the two before they're being grabbed by the kitten as it bites them once again.

you give the kitten on your hold the last few pats before putting the feline on top of his skateboard, letting you scan the scratch on the top side which is dark-coloured, even finding a shoe mark on it.

“why are you here, jongseong?”

jay gulps his saliva down when he heard you call him by his birth name. even with your low-volume voice, the empty atmosphere of the alley lets him hear your words, and it sends shivers down his spine. he never felt this nervous since he tested to go to decelis high. the vision of the future is blurry but he knew that when he passed, he will be happier. but, he just now realized how he has pinned you unconsciously into a box and it terrifies him you notice. he had no choice but to tell the truth.

“you interest me. seeing you cry makes me want to comfort you. seeing you alone on that first row of the crowd catches my eye. seeing you with your plastic bag full of cat food makes me intrigued by you. seeing you here, living your life with a quiet demeanor… you know what i’ll say next.” he let out his thoughts and all you can do is give him a small smile.

“well…” you put your hands on top of where your heart is. chuckles flow out of you, shrugging your shoulders as you let your sight wanders to the alleyway that is only you and he in it.

“it’s funny, innit? how you can easily fancy me when i don’t even try to?” you commented, biting your bottom lip as you accidentally let out the slang words you tried your best not to speak out after moving back here. your gaze goes to his skateboard, “though i am intrigued with riding a skateboard.”

jay’s eyebrows rose from your comment, signaling to him how you want to try it. “you don’t know how to?” he confirmed with your shaking head.

“then, i’ll teach you next time.”

“will there be one?” you glance between your uniform and his which he catches. though you don’t join in on your school’s pop culture, you knew about your school’s rivalry with decelis high. if there was a history of high school fights outside of sports and formal competition, it would be between decelis and levant. though that tradition has dwindled, the tension is still there. that’s why both of your schools tried their best to compete; academically and in other ways. you remembered there was a romeo and juliet situation between both schools way back when and their relationship help with erasing the fighting tradition between the two students. but, there is still an unspoken rule between levant students to not have relations with decelis students whatsoever.

your sister told you to stay away from them after her terrible memories of hooking up with a decelis student. how erratic they are, but they’re also one of the nicest people she knew back then. she knows how narcissistic they are after a few times and now she warns you to stay away. hence, your comment that the boy seems to understand too.

“outside of school grounds. outside of the uniform. you and i, okay?” he replied. the sound of a ringtone playing startled the kittens around him as he picked up his phone. a “shit” fell from his mouth as he answered. you heard him talk about what you can assume to be the weed that he introduces to you but there’s no reason someone calls him about it. does he know someone who sells it?

one of jongseong’s hands wraps around one of your wrists as he uncapped his marker hastily with that same hand—as if he is learning to do that for efficiency. you feel the tickle and moist of the marker on your skin, seeing him writing something on your forearm as you hold it in place while his phone is pushed against his ear. he stopped writing as he holds onto your hand until the call ends and he puts your arm back on your thigh before standing up.

“i have errands to do. sorry for leaving you behind,” he answered, and you helped put the kittens back in the box as the mom jumps in and immediately groomed them. you see the boy already on his skateboard, ready to push his leg and skate away.

“call me, kay?” he gives a small smirk before letting out a last “see ya.” he skates away from the alley, leaving you behind as you unrolled your blazer’s sleeve, seeing the phone number written on your forearm.

you miss the home that you had for a decade.

you miss the salty smell of the sea blocks away from your front door and how effortlessly you can go to the pier to take a break from your increasing-in-level studies. it is because you’ve always seen it as a mistake for your parents to bring you back here to seoul, deep down knowing just how much they don’t acknowledge your well-being here. it is as if you haven’t left that town in the first place, seeing yourself as another cog in their clockwork.

brighton is a small town compared to the UK’s capital and not as larger-than-life as the urban metropolis you live in now. but even a place that small can mean so much for a little girl like you who can compare the two. they sent you there after all and you don’t know the detailed reason why they did it, even when you’re in the clouds thousands of meters above the ground. ‘how can they let you go so easily?‘ you remembered yourself pondering, watching the people turning into ants as the hum from the plane continues to sound before it became a common buzz for your ears.

fragmented memories appear in your head as you reflect on how close you are with your sister, somi, back then. “two peas in a pod”, as she likes to say it; always stayed by each other’s side. both of you play house together in a dollhouse your parents bought, do random activities in your backyard garden such as making tea parties, and swim in the large pool your mansion owns—submerged by both the sound of nature muffled with the sloshing water. yet, none of your parents is in your sight during that thing, making housekeepers serve you as they focus on their other child: the conglomerate you will inherit in the future.

or so you thought when your parents bring you along to the airport, assuming that you were going to say your farewells to your uncle and aunt that were going back to the UK—instead of only the couple going home, they have one more person who they brought with them.

somi was too young to give an opinion of letting her younger sister go, wanting her chauffeur to bring her to the airport instead of her elementary school after he told her you went there—something her parents have told him not to tell as they know she will be in a rage, or “nag” as they like to call it. she believed you stayed home because you were sick, not noticing a suitcase prepared right beside your bed as she left you asleep while smoothing down her uniform. as the years went by, she has to live with only chunks of you in her mind having fun while going to school, being self-taught by your parents business jargons, and learn how to manage things such as her stuff; an early management training to early for one’s liking. for the longest time your parents separated you both, she thought they also taught the same thing as her too.

you always believed that they might surprise visit you one day after you came back from primary school, expecting to find your sister’s grin and her suitcase with a different colour compared to yours at the front door of the house you reside in. you’ve wondered if your parents have forgotten you after a year there—making you think they see you as a mere relative—while you know have adapted to your aunt and uncle being your parent figures instead. they taught you everything you needed outside of what you learn in the education system, but seemingly not involving you in the business side of things that you’ve known before. much different from the complicated words somi has to learn back home when she enters elementary. you don’t even remember if you have ever seen your uncle taking any part in the family business, only describing to you the concept of a family trust and how you, he, and your aunt own a part in it.

at the dining table in your last year of primary, your uncle finally told you why you were here.

“it’s because your dad found a successor in somi, like how your granddad saw him back then.“ he then points between you and himself, “we are the spares of the family, (y/n). though we do have a voice, especially in the voting trust, they won’t and don’t give us access to the family business, no matter how useful it is to have more than one family member working even in there.“ your uncle continue as you glance at your aunt, giving you a small nod and a solemn smile.

you grip your utensils, realizing how left out you are, like a pain plunge into your soul as your uncle chuckled, “just like the royal family, only one can be the highest monarch. and our family is running on the same first-child basis as what they have here."

with that knowledge out of the way, you accepted your status. you accept that you’re a trust fund baby and you may lavish on whatever money you can get from the piece of the trust you own. then, you’ve planned out your future. how you will spend your adolescent years here, going until sixth form, doing a-levels, entering a prestigious university here, and then doing whatever you want for the rest of your life.

that is until your parents called you to go back home to korea when you’re entering year 10 of secondary school.

there is fear within you when you face them for the first time in a decade. comparing when you left to when you arrived back is weird, how unfamiliar all of this has been, even though pictures of the environment outside of the window of the car still look the same as the ones burn in your memory; especially not knowing the motives for why they sent you away other than they see you as a spare. yet, they also don’t give any explanation on why they want you back. in a blink of an eye and a step towards them, you don’t know what to say or do in their presence.

you’re not a talkative person per se, one of the quiet ones in your class back in brighton and even quieter now. but the anxiousness grows as you went to the mansion you used to call home, how you watch more housekeepers roaming around than the ones you remember they have. then when you and your entourage arrived, you finally meet your sister wearing her high school uniform. and you couldn’t openly say “hi”, giving only a small wave, to which she replied with a small smile. your sister grew up beautifully, especially with her blonde hair that makes her appearance resemble a barbie doll you both used to play with together. still, you don’t comprehend what your parents are going to do to you and you stayed quiet about it until these days.

going to levant, they expected you to follow what somi is doing by everyone around you. blend in well, be part of the popular kind, go do cheer, wear feminine accessories and style, and you did so because you’re worried—still are—that they’re going to spare you away once again. in your mind, this was a way to redeem yourself, to show them they’re going to regret sending you away. back in your first year of high school, you still have a glimmer of hope that they see you differently and will treat you differently, unlike what your granddad does to your uncle and your dad. but going to school here changes what you thought of as something bad, is now much, much worse.

your quiet demeanour back in brighton allowed others to bully you, but you thought it’s what kids do—joking around about someone different from them in any aspect—and you fought back. you wanted to use your family name as a shield when you realized they know nothing about it other than the global company your family owns. so, you persevere. you tough it up and face them by not caring about them. and they accepted you, the quiet alien who likes cats because she said she relates to them so much, into the in-group enough that you have a small circle of friends. but here in seoul, the level of toxicity sky-rocketed and you never felt it boil your skin until you see what they do in cheer practice.

eavesdropping from people, you only have two choices after seeing your fellow schoolmates’ drooping faces and awakening stress: you are going to either join the tradition or be an outcast. your sister chooses the former and her family name doesn’t help either—setting an obvious target on her back. when you caught wind of this, you got even quieter, silent, and stealthily wanders under somi’s shadow. yet, having a sister for cheer captain, you can’t say you don’t have privilege of how your senior treats you. but when you see the other first-year students being overwhelmingly harassed at practice behind the coaches’ guides, you choose to stay silent verbally, but your action contradicts it.

you embrace the other three that seem to agree with your plan—lily, haewon, and yuna—as you all tried to expose the toxicity of the cheer group: collecting evidence from photos and audio recordings before sending it to the principal anonymously, and all of you agree to quit right after sending it. the senior cheer members have a smug smile when they know that their weakest soldiers have fallen and left the squad, but they didn’t expect you to leave, somi didn’t even if she lived in the same house as yours; your room is in the other side of the house from hers. that was the first and only time you’ve used your actual voice to them. that was the only time you ever felt powerful against them before you fade again into obscurity.

the comfort level between the four of you lets you try to speak to them, and they’re so nice to you, letting you set your own pace to open up while the others also do the same thing. lily’s accent caught your attention and confirmed when she said she moved here from australia—she has the same reaction when you spoke and caught a bit of an accent and slang words in the way you talk, haewon never fail to crack your group up from her funny expressions and jokes, while yuna brings out the sassy yet sweet aura of the group. all of you stayed together throughout the first year and even got closer as you all are assigned to the same class this year.

your outings with them become more of a routine, how they give their free time to help you give out food to stray cats, go to the arcade, and other things. being the spare, you embraced your inner princess margaret and start to slowly defy what your parent expects from you, which you now realized because they want you to become somi 2.0. if they don’t want you as yourself, might as well make you like their ideal successor. well speaking of it, that is what they told you after you came back home too late for your parents’ liking, even though somi, who is a year older than you, is still out there.

“you either going to follow what we want of you, or you’re not going to have a piece of the company.“

gladly, you thought. but you remain silent and it is slowly frustrating them. you now knew your fear and anxiety can become a weapon against them.

you differentiate yourself from your sister, most of your clothes—all were somi’s hand-me-downs—are given to your housekeepers for them or if they have a child back home. you dressed more down-to-earth, quiet literally, with earthy colours that clash with your sister’s extravagant pastel blues and pinks. and you don’t care if your parents tell you their grimy, plus earthy colours look more business-savvy. you always use your pocket money to buy can food for stray cats at least once per week, getting your emotion sucked up by playing with them and giving good to beings that also live on this earth along with humans.

but even under a strong and mysterious persona, people perceived you in ways that they see as negative, calling you a weirdo, a black sheep, a failure, and comparing you to your sister behind their backs. and it all seems to break down when your carpool doesn’t arrive to get you home, seeing the text from your assigned chauffeur that they were fired. they were supposed to be on your side as they waited for you to finish giving the cats food and vouch for you. that day you finally broke down, the pressure from inside rising to get out of you.

that is until your second encounter with jay which makes you see a different light of him.

annoyance came to you when his sneeze scare the cats away, like what bloke can sneeze so loud that it rivals your uncle? nonetheless, when he offered you his roll of weed, you accepted it and you wing it. deep down, you were smirking at how the way you smoke makes him think that you’ve smoked before it is actually your first time, and you don’t care when the buzz reaches your head, sending you into an almost foggy state but making your senses hyper. he must have a high tolerance for being able to ride a skateboard while high, seeing the board with wheels poking out from beside his body when you caught him at the arcade.

but when he approached you in your most vulnerable self publicly, you didn’t expect him to utter those words to you. at first, he seemed to want to banter with you about what happened a week prior. but the fact that he fancies you is unexpected. a decelis high skater and stoner—definitely a bad boy type—finds you intriguing. no other person is as bold as him. sure, you have a few crushes yourself, but you always get the confirmation of people having a crush on you after the feelings were gone. no one has ever openly confessed their interest to you. and now, you didn’t know what to comment on other than the obvious fact that you’re also intrigued by him. but you both live different lives, going to rival schools, and you should not even be seen with him at all.

when you see the clutter around both of you, the skateboard was the only way you can catch him before he slithers away, and that’s what he promises you to do if you text him about it. so now here you are, the floor below you carries you higher and higher before the elevator lets out a “ding”, opening to the destination floor you’ve pressed the button to.

you look between the text he sends you and the apartment number as you walk down the clean and gleaming hallway, hearing the sound of scratching rubber from the trainers you’re wearing. eyes scanning the plaque, you slow down your steps as you arrived at the door with the number he texted you. you press the bell button as it is muffled behind the door, giving a small smile at the front door. a click sounded as the heavy door opens, and an almost recognizable girl behind the ajar door peeks out. she’s wearing very comfortable clothes that are too big for her figure—something you see yourself wearing—but her hooded eyes catch your attention. it looks as if she has been asleep and the bell you pressed has woken her up. but her upbeat demeanour says otherwise.

“hi, you must be the guest jay’s waiting for,” she said as the door widens. her hand outstretches for you to shake as she lets out a small smirk. jay didn’t tell you that she lives with a girl before, or maybe she was visiting to take a rest.

“you can come in, he’s in the shower.” the girl speaks as you follow her inside the apartment. shoes litter on the front of the door as the girl tried her best to tidy them up while mentioning her name, not catching it clearly as she moved away. when you step inside, you were met with a large open living space and a herbal scent mixing in the air—your rose scent is obscure by it. a hallway stretches as you see four different doors, but one side of the open space catches your eye. four tidy pots of plants rested on racks, the leaves creating almost like a bed but hollow underneath. your eyes follow the way the plants are structured, how jagged the leaves are, and how only odd numbers of them grow on each stem.

wait…

“i don’t smoke them.” you caught the girl say beside you. “but they do. they sell it actually. hoon and jay,” she continued as you turn towards her, making her neutral expression quickly drops.

“you don’t… know…” her words got a shrug from you as she chuckles, “i thought you were here to buy one.” you shake your head and wave your hands a no.

a boy’s voice call for the girl’s name from behind you, eyes widen as you now recognize who she is by the name that you should've asked her to repeat. that’s when you turn back to find one of the boys jay is friends with coming from one of the closed doors—you know because you’ve seen his face in a few photos from jay’s profile. he approaches her as you tried to distract yourself away from their conversation, taking a pretty long time before you heard her voice say, “i’m not leaving her behind. we can stay here first, right?”

“who’s her?” you glance at them.

“her.” she points to you as you give a tight-lip smile and a small wave.

“oh hi, didn’t see you- wait? aren’t you (y/n)? (l/n) (y/n)?” the boy said as you see his hand wrapped around the girl’s love handle. your jaw almost dropped as you realize the signals they give to you. staring at them as discreetly as possible you now realize who each of them is. the boy is heeseung, the famous student council president of your neighbouring school and after jogging the familiar name of the girl, you realized that that’s the name of beomgyu’s sister—her style and vibe almost resemble him in a way when you inspect her further. how you know about her is because of what your sister told you about her brother—her having a bad sentiment that you understand. you sure hope she’s not as shitty as her brother. but, you didn’t realize they’re exclusive to each other until his smooth moves.

“guilty.” you mouthed while showing a thumbs up.

heeseung lets out a giggle as he stares at you before turning to the girl. “jjong told me about her before, babe. you know?” he said before you see her eyes enlarged, letting out ahs and oohs as she then whispered into his ears. your body shrinks as you glance at them before looking away as fast as you can. the fear inside of you slowly grows as your mind flew everywhere, even taking a dip into your darkest thoughts that you’re always reminded of.

“guys. your giggles are creeping her out.” you heard a voice from behind them as you lean to the side, seeing the boy you were waiting for as you timidly wave. you scoot your way towards him, realizing how similar both of you dress with your grey-tone t-shirt and blue jeans combo. the boy seems to suspect something as you sensed your body being dragged towards him by your forearm. the couple looks at each other as they noticed their friend’s small initiation, letting out smiles to each before turning towards the two of you.

“good luck on your date, jongseong.” heeseung said as he lets out a charismatic smirk. if your eyes can get widened, it would as you glance at the boy beside you, seeing him with an unreadable expression.

“we should have a double date, triple i guess if hoon wanna joins but eh…” the girl said, a look of jokingly disgust on her face makes you chuckle inside before jay turns his body and walk towards the door. the atmosphere suddenly tightens as you turn to follow your hangout friend and skateboard trainer to the front door of the apartment.

“(y/n)?” your name is called as you turn your head towards the source. heeseung and the girl let out a solemn smile.

“i don’t know what kind of my magic you got to get my boy that whipped for you. but take care of him, okay? he’s been a lot more cranky these days.” heeseung answered as he glance at the girl beside her as she continues, “he only told us two about how he’s felt towards you. per what heeseung said, he hasn’t been this serious with someone since his best friend… yeah…”

you blinked and gave tiny nods to tell them you listen to them loud and clear. the mention of his best friend and how she paused her words makes you pierce a mental thumbtack in your memory. though you don’t know the detailed sentiment, you caught that this best friend of his—“hoon” as they like to call him—has meddled in his love life much more than jay’s liking.

giving a nod and a smile to the two, you return to the front door as you see jay tying his shoes up. besides where you crouched down to put your own on, a cabinet door opens as you catch two skateboards inside in an upright position. one is more decorated than the other—the one you recognize he brought when you both feed the cats. a shadow of jay’s stature steps near you as he pulls out the skateboards into his hands before pushing one towards you when you stand up.

“this is my spare one if this one gets broken. it’s the same model so it should be alright.” the boy explained as you pick it up with both of your hands, the weight of the wood is not as heavy as the cans of cat food you bring in your plastic bag—a few of them are in the backpack you’re wearing cause you rather be prepared than say sorry towards their cute little face for not filling their appetite. jay lets out a small smirk as he grabs his own backpack and tucks the skateboard between his arm and body.

“shall we?”

the street of seoul reminds you of brighton as you both walk on the pavement, sightseeing square-looking buildings in a street that is big enough for only two lanes going opposite ways. in a way, you’ve tried to embrace the “you from the past” now as best as you can. maybe your parents firing your chauffeur is a blessing in disguise at a point that you’ve tried to push yourself for nearly a year now, letting you take back the independence you used to have back in your aunt and uncle’s. in your house today, only your housekeepers care if you’re home or not but they also vouch for you if you go to the city by yourself—coming from the little acts of kindness you’ve done to them. the last day of the weekend is—of course, as crowded as usual. you gaze at the people going out with their families and friends to refresh their minds for the two days they have, and as you both walk near the han river, it seems that skateboarding is one way they refresh.

the skateboard on your hold is a tad bit slanted as you always repair how you grip it. the sound of rubbing on concrete decorates the area that is made of slopes and curves—the view of the river is marvellous and you immediately understand why this is jay’s favourite skate park. skateboarders of all diversity make the indents on the ground more colourful with their outfits, their boards, and a speck of street art on them. dangerous tricks such as kicks and spins make you grimace, catching the boy’s attention who is beside you.

“i will not teach you that. unless you’re fucking with me and you’re also great at skateboarding.” you let a chuckle at his comment as you stray from the main path of the han river recreational area to go to the skate park. when you both arrive there, you see people greeting jay in various ways, shouting their hellos, waving their hands, and giving him high five or fist pumps. seeing them in green cargo pants notes you to buy them and put them in your wardrobe—bloody hell, they look great. your eyes gaze at how smoothly they’re riding their skateboards around you, making your fingers fidget while holding the same thing in your hand.

“hey, we’re gonna put our bags and start, alright?” jay speaks to you right beside your ear. you turn to see how close his face is to yours, very close. you gaze at the faded freckles that decorated his cheekbones, his sun-kissed skin illuminated in the afternoon sun before your trance falls away as you give him a nod and go to the bench that he puts his backpack on. your shoulders are much lighter than before because of the less weight, you roll your shoulders to stretch them up as jay puts the skateboards right by his feet. your palms are getting sweaty as you tried your best to wipe them off. what if you fell? what if you’re reckless enough to do a mistake?

“so, do you have any experience with boards of any kind?” he asked as you tilt your head while stepping closer to him.

“i can ride a bicycle, not exactly a board but balancing on something, right?”

“yup. so…” you see him rub his hand as he drags the skateboard he lends to you with his foot, rolling it to put it in between the two of you. “we’re going to start with balancing. you’re gonna step on the board and tried to balance as best as you can.” he said.

you gnaw the inside of your cheek, staring interchangeably between the boy and the board between both of your feet. your experience riding a bicycle sure helps him calm down, but you didn’t mention that the last time you rode one was back in year 7 when, after a certain incident, you just haven’t thought of buying another one for yourself anymore. the tingling of the scar on your pelvis from falling off your bicycle comes back as you don’t know if you’re balanced enough for this.

as you put one foot on the board, it trembles under you. how different it is that you have to learn how to manage your weight and how much should you put on the surface that has touched. your hands are wide enough for you to get your sense of balance, lifting them as you focus on your feet more. when you felt like you’re ready enough, you lift your other foot off the ground and put it on the board beside yours. the adrenaline coursing through as you thought you nailed it on the first try, no need to embarrass yourse-

the board slips under your foot as hands hold onto both of your arms. you breathe rapidly as your heart thumps as if it’s near out of your ribcage. your reaction to one of your feet slipping to the ground came late as you finally hissed from the pain surging through your nerves, looking up to catch jay’s furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you. you knew from his eyes what his concern was and your nods seem to calm him down as his grip on you lessen.

“hold on to me if you need to, okay?” he reminds you as he drags the board to your feet once again and this time, you lean to what he said. one of your hands in jay’s as you step onto the shaky board one step at a time, letting him guide you upright as you stare at your feet once again.

“(y/n)?” you tried your best to stop your wobbly legs before looking up at him. jay’s face has a look that screams determination as he holds you with both hands near your elbows.

“eyes on me, okay? it’ll help with your balancing because of your center of gravity,” he tells you as you gulp down your saliva. breathing in and out, you straighten your posture enough as the board is getting not as shaky as the first time you rode it. how your eyes stay on his face is getting your cheeks warm, even if they’re looking downwards to your feet.

jay helps you to find your balance as he then teaches you how you use your foot to push the board for it to move, and how the board moves left and right depending on how you put the weight on your feet. and even if he felt confident that you can roll on your own by the end of the day, he didn’t expect you to nail it on the first try. you didn’t count how much you failed to roll and balance on the board; each time comes with you jumping from the moving board or slip off to the ground. with each accident, jay comes running to catch you before you fall or pull you up to your feet when you fell. but every time he sees you fall off the board, your chuckles always fill your presence. how nonchalantly you take this challenge and how you took this practice session as if you are having fun. and when you nailed it, he couldn’t help but clap as much as he can when you turn around and roll on the concrete before stopping in front of him.

“you did great.” he says as he pulls you close, not minding the proximity because of how close you two had been the entire time when he holds you to not let you fall. and you seem to not mind it either as you mouthed a “thanks” before you caress the back of your neck, letting you take a rest.

the refreshing water runs down your oesophagus until the very last drop. you work out your ankles from how hurt they are been mostly from slipping, resting them on top of the skateboard that you used as it drags back and forth following your movement. where’s jay, you asked? you heard his whoop as you stare at his figure flinging all around the slopes. how effortlessly he does aerial spins and kicks his skateboard 180 degrees before landing it perfectly. jay performs as if he is all by himself, with no one to bother him as he tries the tricks he has up his sleeves, but you have a nagging feeling that he is doing it to impress you too.

when jay is skateboarding away at the other side of the area, you let your vision gaze at the other people in your vicinity and the main path right beside the skate park. people riding bicycles, pushing strollers, and jogging goes by that path before you see people cruising down the path on a board, similar to a skateboard, albeit longer. that’s peng, you thought. skateboarding like jay is doing might be too daredevil-ish for you. maybe riding it that way will give you the same senses but much more relaxed.

“what’s peng???” a voice startles you as you found jay now standing beside where you sit, drinking his own water bottle before sitting down beside you. you don’t know if he’s asking you the thing that is peng or the definition of peng, but you answer as best as you perceived.

“i saw people cruising down the path with a board, but a longer one?” you quietly speak so only he can listen to you. he replied with a hum as his eyes landed on the path as more people on boards are riding on that path before going to face you.

“it’s a longboard, the one they’re using. skateboards are shorter but you can cruise with them too. i definitely see you do that more rather than doing tricks.” your eyes follow his movement as he looks down at both the skateboards under you. a chuckle came out and you mouthed “definitely”. you lean back and rested your hands beside you on the bench, seeing the blue sky that is drifting to the west, with the darkness coming from the horizon. you peer beside you and see jay taking a glimpse of you.

“so how is today’s lesson?” he playfully asked, as if you’re literally someone under his care, a trainer asking for feedback. to be honest, even with your hurting ankle that might cause unintentional consequences, this moment is the most brighton thing you ever felt in a long time. though you don’t want to undermine what you and your friends have, hanging out with someone new outside of the dramas in levant is refreshing.

you can only give a thumbs up which he replied with a wistful sigh. jay grabs onto his bag before zipping open the front pouch, letting you take a glimpse of two different boxes, one you’re familiar with and the other that is customized. he grabs the customized one and opens it for you to see the thick rolls of joint inside, pulling one out before closing it and replacing it with his lighter. jay expected little from smoking weed openly in a place full of people smoking, but he caught your glance and it immediately intimidates him.

you give him a small pout as you shift your head. the look in your eyes shines with panic and concern. jay understood what you meant whilst he pull out the joint from between his lips and returned it to the box before grabbing the cig box he kept, replacing it so he can blend in with the others. “much of a daredevil, aren’t you?” you commented as he flicks the lighter and put the flame on the cigarette butt.

“well, you’re right. that’ll be stupid of me to get caught having a joint on me in public areas where people can see,” jay spoke, smoke coming out of his mouth. he offered you the cylinder as you brought your lips to it, taking an inhale as the smoke warmed your mouth before pulling back and slowly letting them go. jay was holding his breath the whole time before he took another shot of the burning substance.

“is there a reason you like weed more than cigs?” you asked, genuinely curious to know from the amount he might consume not even for a week but a day of it. the perception of him being a stoner quickly changes as you now learn that he also makes them too, in his home for bloody heck.

“i like the high it gives me.” he answered with a general answer for a stoner, “and to spite my parents.” jay peeks at you from the corner of his eyes. your body, at once, turns rigid when he mentions ‘parents’. all the memories you had about your parents crawling up in your mind and enveloping your vision in it.

“is that why you decide to sell it too?” you catch his enlarged eyes as he looks between the burning cig that is halfway down, before towards you. you reaffirm his unspoken question with a nod before he exhales the air he was holding.

“i’m trying to be financially independent being left alone here. my parents living in seattle have been pampering me so much it annoys me, you know?” he told you as you analyze it. how by the words he said alone, you can conclude: how wealthy his parents are, how he has been holding back from indulging in what he wants, and how he has lived outside of seoul. none of that information is present in his instagram profile—you feel dodgy when you see the well-built apartment he lives in, but it’s still not enough of a prediction for past you. you give him a small nod, learning how similar yet on the different side of the spectrum both of you are.

“what business does your family run?” jay lets out a tight-lip smile as he turns to you after finishing your question, puffing out the smoke from the cigarette before stretching his hand towards you once again, allowing you to take another hit.

“travel agency. helping tourists on their vacation in various countries in asia. providing tour guide, setting up tours, et cetera.” you let out a smile as your tongue rubs the residue of the cigarette that rests on your teeth. how sticky it felt you’re familiarizing yourself. you definitely need to brush your teeth as soon as possible when you get home.

“if you know somi, you must have heard my media conglomerate family then. though i’m not the one they're pushing to stay in the limelight like she is.” you let out as you nod as you giggled. “crazy how similar we are, huh?” your comment takes his attention as your giggles die down. the sky above you is darkening as the streetlights are turning on, yet you both didn’t want this to end. but even that, he thought it was not the right time to ask you to elaborate.

“so in that apartment, you live alone?”

“nah. heeseung and sunghoon are my roommates.” jay closed his eyes as he sees the faces of his friends in sight. the ridiculousness of their attitudes back on the bench they always hang out on at school. “we have this gang of friends at school, all nine- well, ten of us now that always hang with each other.” you let a hum as he continues to introduce his friends.

heeseung, other than the council president of decelis, is his roommate whom he has met back when he lived in the US—their fathers are friends and that’s why he allowed the boy to live with heeseung. sunghoon is his best friend—the “hoon” guy you’ve been hearing—has his troublemaker ways. jay mentions how sunghoon is his business partner, helping to send their orders away and more of the one that works in the field. but when you see him mentioning his best friend, you can view how his eyes turn fiery—heeseung told you how cranky he has been, is it because of him?

he continues introducing you to the other people in the gang. kai is a debate club member. his talkative nature makes him a great person who could convince people in an argument—he gave an example of the guy being the mc for their family feud-style game night. jake is the captain of the rugby team this season—you chuckle at how he still apologizes that your school lost against them as if you care about it. he mentions how many of his friends—nearly half—are part of the film club. he mentions sunoo and his best friend, who he describes as the sunshine siblings because of how playful they are. taehyun, who is their documentary guy, loves his camera, and brings it with him all the time—you might view yourself in him. then beomgyu, the star actor of the club. the most famous senior in the school other than heeseung as he explained.

“and beomgyu’s sister who is now heeseung’s girlfriend. they had a mess in the beginning and because of that, beomgyu’s not been around us for a while now, bringing taehyun with him for his bidding.” he lets out a sigh, finishes with bitterness on his tongue as you let out a wide smile from how he looks knackered just for describing his nine friends.

“i could say the same to you about my three friends though we don’t seem as chaotic as you guys are. they’re lovable, sassy, funny, and determined at the same time. we met in the cheer squad before all of us called it quits.” you brush your hair as you stare back at him, your smile turning sombre as the mention of them brought you to the haunting memories of constant harassment.

“that’s why i saw you beside your sister back in the match,” jay spoke enthusiastically before he turns towards you, your eyebrows already raised.

“no- no, i didn’t stalk you. i just saw you, okay? your sister ruffling your head before she left to do her routine.” he described perfectly what happened at the match as you give the benefit of the doubt about him. that day, your sister was trying to convince you to go back to the squad again. but the way you catch them treating your junior like crap, you were pissed off. you only come and attend that match so that it’ll be easier to give out the food for the felines. you didn’t think anyone notice it, especially from the school that you’re competing with.

“we don’t have the best sibling relationship. family things,” you spoke out the fact. taking yourself back to how you’re overshadowed by your sister’s presence and how you want to escape it. even with how much you avoid being associated with her, people still know you as her sister.

“i feel you, though not the sibling one ‘cause i’m an only child.”

“that’s unlucky. new money sole successor. no wonder your parents are pampering you so much.” your comment earns a laugh from jay as he nods his head, knowing that is the truth he carried. “i can’t say much being a trust fund baby with parents that neglects you.” you retorted as you gaze back at him.

“my life isn’t as perfect as you think it is.” the sun has now sunk behind the surrounding skyscrapers. the bridges that carry motorcycles, cars, and underground trains passing by make a beautiful silhouette. usually, by this time, you were supposed to be at home. but since your housekeepers help vouch for you and your parents are having a big board of directors meeting—usually takes hours to finish—they won’t snitch on you. they haven’t snitched on you even when you were with your friends playing in the arcade until midnight and later on.

jay drops his cigarette and puts it out with a step of his foot before you gaze at him, eyes looking all over his face that is illuminated by the streetlight behind you. the skaters dwindled in numbers as only a few people are on the slopes—the ones that are brave enough to trek the dark and uncertain curves with lights at the bottom.

“it’s getting late and tomorrow we have sch-“

“can we smoke a spliff?” you cut him off, pausing him before he looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes.

“are you sure?” he asked once again, hands already pulling the box where he puts it. you instinctively nod.

“i don’t want this to end yet,” you tell your sentiment as many thoughts have infiltrated your mind. maybe the buzz can help you calm down more. your eyes stick to the edge of the slope as you hear the flick and light coming from beside you. jay take in the newly lit spliff before giving it to you as you took one puff yourself. it circulates inside your mouth and the grass scent is catching you off guard before you let it out. it’s warm but you know you’re gonna get the buzz you’ve felt again.

your head seems heavy as you take a few more puffs of the roll, letting the quiet atmosphere calm you down. the drug urging you to speak anything that comes into your mind. “you know,” you straighten your sitting posture, “that time when you offer me your spliff, i haven’t actually smoked before…”

“the fuck?!” the boy exclaims, unhinged just like you do as you sense the buzz in your head pressing down the anxiety and fear that always culminate in your mind.

“yeah…” your words roll out. how your senses heightened as though you’re still sober but with how heavy your head is, you let it relaxes you.

“you were so good at it though,” he remarks as you let out a giggle.

“do i? to be honest, i’m just winging it back then. i didn’t understand shit.” your giggly reply makes him giggle too. seeing the white smoke floating and disperse into the darkening sky makes you stare at the buildings all around you. their illuminated windows resemble faux stars that decorate the night sky. you always like to stargaze, sitting on the sand of the beach as you stare at the stars from your position by the ocean waves. it is one of your favourite past times there and you always tell your aunt where your whereabouts will be and if she’ll be searching for you. the lights in seoul are too bright for you to stargaze, but you might as well cherish anytime you could get outside of your house, especially with people you are comfortable with. jay included.

“why weed? why not… pokemon trading cards for a business?” your ridiculous question earns a chuckle from both of you—your sober part now realizing how talkative and giggly you are under the influence. jay runs his tongue on his chapped lips as he peeks at you from the corner of his eyes. his foot fidgets with the skateboard under your feet, swaying from side to side.

“finding an opportunity in an almost empty market segment, you know?” you heard him use the business jargon your parents also use as you pursed your lips. holding back your laugh, he is the one that hooks you up to let it out. your head is lolling away from the times you take a hit from the blunt and you’ve also noticed how relaxed jay looked, he used to fidget all the time—playing with his fingers, playing with the tip of his toes inside his shoes, nibble on his bottom lip—but now with both of you under a much stronger influence, he seems decent enough and much more hyper about his sense.

taking the last hit for both of you as the flame consumes the rest of the joint, the grassy stench of the substance overwhelming your sense of smell, almost vegetable-like as you wave your hand to get rid of the surrounding scent. maybe you’re not thinking straight enough, but you reached for your bag and pull out your perfume: rose-scented that you’ve been wearing. though it smells heavy now, you found a lighter-smelling one back in brighton that makes you like the scent and you regretted not buying a bulk of it to bring here.

spraying it on your wrists and neck, you rub the spots as the aroma masks the one you’ve been smelling. you glance at the boy beside you who is also sniffing the air, a content smile on his face. hand instinctively pushes the item towards him. he looks down at it before looking at you give a smile. jay picks up the perfume and sprays it in the same spots as you did, rubbing them before giving it back to you.

“this is much better than the musk scent i usually wear,” he said as you let out a chuckle, a dry one to be in fact, which you follow with a cough. that’s when your nerves are aware of how dry your throat is. when you reached for your bottle, you were met with the lightweight material with only droplets inside.

“think i should head home. i’m freaking parched,” you told him as he covers his mouth before facing you and nods. when you stand up, you can now feel the weight that shows up from your head. but the evening gusts of wind help your eyes flutter open as you picked up the skateboard before something touches your elbow. jay holding you before you straighten yourself up.

“try riding it on the main path,” he comments as you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows, leaning in closer to him as you recognize your usual rose scent on him.

“are you fucking crazy? i’m not even great enough to skate and now you want me to do it high? freaking dammit jongseong.” you shake your head from his challenge as he then holds both of your shoulders, letting you settle down from your almost tamper tantrum.

“it’s the best feeling in the fucking world, (y/n). believe me.” jay stares right into your eyes. how the building lights behind you shine in them like it reflects stars. how big his pupil has gotten to resemble the night sky. he turns your body as you see white lights decorating under the bridge by the main path.

“that’s the convenience store. we’re gonna buy some stuff ‘cause i’m also getting hungry.” you poked your tongue inside your cheek as you glimpse at him. “you can do it. i believe in you.”

you let out a small, uncertain smile as you nod, letting yourself out of his grasp as you both walk towards the now emptier path. jay sets down his own skateboard as you fix the straps of your backpack. the figure of the boy dashes on the path as he stood on his board effortlessly. ‘fuck it‘ you said to yourself as you push the board like how jay teaches you, giving a few more pushes before putting both feet on the board as you tried to balance the best as you can so it goes on the straight line, eyes looking forwards rather than how your body moves as you let yourself adjust to the board that rolls beneath you.

the wind from the kinetic movement blows your hair as it flings from your face. you can be helped but to let a whoop from the air strike your skin, making you more alive and awake than ever. the figure before you now stand looking back towards you as you notice him laugh, letting you go past him as he follows you to the store.

arriving in the convenience store—putting your skateboards upright near the bicycle stands—you stroll around the shelves along with jay. going to the fridges and freezer as you pull out an ice cream and a bottle of cider before turning around to search for jay. his head pokes out from behind the shelves from his tall height as you find him with the cashier, looking at the reddish food in the warm display area.

“you want tteokbokki? my treat,” he said as he stares at you already with your cold items and him with a coloured soda in his hand. you hadn’t had street food in a while from how strict your food regimen is at home and the broth-full lunch at school. but the way the rice cakes rested inside that chill-powdered sauce, you could imagine adding cheese in there as saliva appears inside your mouth.

“buy a big one for both of us and also add cheese.” you turn to him as he lets out a wide smile.

“yes, ma’am,” he replies as he orders exactly that to the cashier attendant. both of you waited by the counter as you see the display behind the cashier for the adults, full of cigarettes and condoms. jay and you stood side by side as you both waited with the view. the awkward silence between the two of you makes you turn to face him. both of your minds seem to be telepathically linked as he turns to see you too. the white, almost blueish tint of the store illuminates his skin differently than the sun, colder. but the freckles on his cheeks stand out more. you can’t help—with the courage from your weightlessness of reality and consequences—to reach up and caress his cheek. his eyes enlarged as you turn your body to face him.

“your freckles are pretty.” you breathed out, perceiving how cold his skin is from your palm as you heat him up. seeing how at first he hesitates before leaning in fully into your warmth.

both of you sit at the table outside as you eat in silence, sharing the large plate of tteokbokki as you munch up your appetite. for all the moments you sat together, you both stayed silent, not commenting on what you did at the cashier. the warmth of the spicy rice cakes fills your stomach as the cold combats and helps with your dry oesophagus. your usual cat whisperer trait makes a couple of cats arrive and rub their head on your calves, pulling out the can from your bag as you marvel at yourself for at least giving out one for today—it didn’t feel right if you don’t.

for you, the high has died down significantly as you’re now in your usual quiet state, eating up your food as best as you can as you compare it with the tastes you’ve tried. you don’t know if buying it is the right call for eating spicy food but you were parched back then, and not sober.

“fuck, i can’t. tomorrow’s school again.” jay groans before he hisses, his lips swollen because of the spicy food. he looks up as only the broth of the tteokbokki is left on the plate. “i should bring you home…”

you shook your head and disagree with him as you left to pout. even if the high has died down, some leftovers of it are still left circulating as you mouthed, “i can go home by myself.”

“you probably still have the after-effect of being high and you’re going to be alone at fucking night, (y/n). please…” he grabs your hand that is still gripping the chopsticks, catching your attention as you stare right back at him. “let me take you home.”

indeed, he did as you stroll back home, the ice cream in your hands as jay holds the skateboard you used while his own is peeking out of his backpack. small talks were made between the two as you stroll in the night's dark sky. you wanted to tell him how you have been going home late at night, especially if you hang out with your girls-around a month ago you did just that as you all played in the arcade until midnight and more. but seeing his concern for you made your heart flutter, and by hanging out with him, you now understand how much of a stubborn person he is—dragging you in one way and another as he trained you to learn how to skate. as you walked by the neighbourhoods, you can still see people roaming around to enjoy the nightlife. not as late as when you’re in that arcade playing the hammer machine, competing to get as highest of scores as you can between the four of you.

“you’re not as cranky as i thought.”

jay turns his head towards you as you felt the ice cream melt in your mouth, nibbling on the little spoon as he raised his eyebrows.

“heeseung told me something about you and sunghoon.” you heard him scoff as you mention his friends’ names, looking forward at the expanding pavement in front of you both.

“oh he’s…” he lets out a sigh before continuing. “hoon is pursuing so many girls at once he makes me have to work double to manage, pack, and deliver the goods.” jay brushes his fallen hair to the back as you continue to step into the night together.

“he’s an interesting character to know. nice guy but he likes his dick wet a lot so… i kinda see how hee said i’m cranky.”

“yeah, notice your eyebags are a bit swollen. sunghoon’s a fucking wanker…” you exhale towards his friend as he laughs because of it.

“i expect it to happen—his room is beside mine after all. but i didn’t expect he could even fuck for more than thrice a week.”

“that is dodgy as heck. is that your spliff’s side effect?” you chuckle as he gives you a side eye before rolling his eyes, seeing it as an answer to your carefree question.

both of you walk and you enter a more secluded neighbourhood. houses covered by high and thick walls as you climb the stairs on the pavement from the sloping terrain. you gaze at jay, seeing his eyes wandering around the houses that differ greatly from the apartment complex. the steps slow down as you near a wooden gate, the white lights of the exterior illuminate the house in a colder manner rather than your neighbours with their yellow bulbs. you hummed as you titled your head, letting him know this is your stop.

“thank you for today. though i’ve been such a crap.” you lean against the wooden gate as he shakes his head.

“no, i’m proud of you, really,” he replied as you put your hand where your heart is. you turn to your phone and text one housekeeper you trust as you don’t want to ring the bell and tell your parents of your whereabouts tonight—if they’re home. the light shines on your face as you write the words in and send it, quickly glancing towards jay who hasn’t left yet. you see his mouth open as he speaks.

“i… do you wanna do this again? you could get used to the skateboard then we can hang out at some places. maybe i could introduce you to my friends, even ask your friends too to hang out with us. i mean, you seem to be pretty friendly with hee’s girl back in my fla-“

you lean in and press your lips on his cheek, stopping his continuous tangent as the number of words faded out. leaning back, the corner of jay’s lips rises as your eyes flutter. “i would like to.”

the sound of the gate opening catches you off-guard as you step back to the small door the housekeeper has unlocked. jay’s eyes still gaze at your retreating figure as you hold on to the gate.

“i’ll reach out. good night, jongseong.” your lips pouted as you step to the other side when you hear a faint “good night” from the boy outside. the housekeeper looks at you with a knowing gaze as you both retreat to the mansion, listening to the sound of wheels rolling down the asphalt road down the slope.

if one can take a glimpse at jay’s eyes, one could see them sparkle; resemble fireworks. jay stares at the last message bubbles that happened between him and you in class, trying to suppress his smile as best as he can to preserve his appearance, but he knows he can’t hold it together especially since his lips are trembling to not form a smile. hee’s girl is the one that notices it first, sitting down with the exhausted taehyun—his face laying at the desk—right beside her, but she said nothing so that sunghoon could realize something.

“woah, jjong. you’ve been staring at your phone for minutes now.” his best friend said, the boy himself not exactly caring about it as he continue to scroll down the chat before returning it to the Instagram profile you gave him of your own. one that is full of cats and aesthetically no face pics of you and your friends.

“who’s that, huh?” jay sensed his friend nudges his shoulder, making him roll his eyes.

“none of your freaking business.”

“of course, it is my business, jjong. you wearing heart eyes? looking at someone’s profile? scrolling back and forth between your chats? bro…” he can feel sunghoon’s presence closer to him. “tell me who this lucky person is.”

jay side-eyes his friend who is wearing a sheepish smile. he clicked his tongue as he turn his head towards his seatmate, “a girl i’ve been seeing-“

“oh fuck, i knew it,” he exclaimed as quietly as he can, not wanting the teacher to catch him cursing in class. sunghoon lightly slap his palm on jay’s forearm as said boy looks at his friend offendedly. “that’s why you’ve been out more, but without me.”

“yeah, right. you’ve been hooking up with girls left and right. how am i supposed to go out with you, dickhead?” jay stated the obvious before he recollected his mind on what sunghoon is saying. yes, his best friend is right. he has gone out more and it’s because of you.

most of the time you both hung out by han river. him lending you his skateboard as you better your skill in riding it—how he remembered pushing you on it with his hands on your waist. as you get better and better, with a fair share of injuries from falling as he and you tried a few kick tricks which results in you punching his biceps, he can now proudly say you’ve become an excellent skater. you told him you won’t do anything on the slopes and instead, you voice out that you try to cruise down the paths more, taking in the city's view, the flowing water, and the sky above together.

in the three times, other than the first one, that he skates with you, he has brought a few of his friends and met with your friends too. taehyun also likes to skate from time to time—what jay likes to say is “his skate buddy”—if he isn’t busy enough with editing videos, and jake asks to come with him to relax himself before his next matches after having a two-time winning streak. that day, your friends insert themselves into your hangout as they’ve been curious about who this guy their friend is meeting, resulting in the two groups meeting. jay still remembers how jake and lily talking to one another strengthen each other’s accents that make none of you can fully understand what they’re talking about.

other than skating, he also is with you to give out food for neighborhood cats, playing with them if you both have time. one cat stuck in his mind though, a tabby kitten that likes to ride on his skateboard as he plays with him like a baby of his own. he still couldn’t help but sneeze if he stayed too long with the felines, their fur itching his nose. but he tried his best to cover his nose and maybe stay away from them enough just to be with you. now and then, you like to associate him with a cat.

“sometimes grumpy. sometimes menacing. but cute.“

“did you just say i’m cute?” jay replied as he can see the look of realization on your face. he calls your name before he shakes your torso lightly for your answer, only replying with giggles.

yeah, he couldn’t help about his selective hearing when he heard you indirectly compliment him. you have an intimidating demeanor from your first impression, as if you’re coming from addams family but not as macabre. mysterious and obscurity oozes from you, but he is glad you let him in that fog of yours.

“so which school is your lucky girl from?” sunghoon asked, his head still too close for comfort as he infiltrates to scroll up and down your instagram profile. he will thank you for making yourself as obscure as ever on the internet. but he knows his boy won’t give up without an answer or a fight. a “cocky wanker” as what you like to name him. not going to lie, it makes him giggle every single time he overheard it.

“levant.”

“what the- jjong!” sunghoon whispered loudly into his ear. jay’s instinct instantly reacts to his seatmate, leaning away and covering his ear. his seatmate grabs and pulls him in though, head looking everywhere to check if the teacher notices anything. “this is fucking scandalous. no other student here has pursued a levant kid since beomgyu hook up with-“

“i know. this is gonna be a romeo and juliet type of beat. but, hoon…” jay’s shoulder hunches down as he looks at his best friend, not believing what he’ll say to him. “i genuinely like her…”

“bruh, even i’m not brave enough to hook up with a levant girl, man.”

“of course, you only wanna hook up with the popular ones. and please, it’s not like i haven’t seen someone on decelis not having friends with someone in levant. if you helped me deliver to that school more, you could find people in our uniforms too,” jay argues back as sunghoon stops with a stunned look on his face. his phone vibrates just in time as he sees the notification on it.

(y/n): could we meet up today after school? it’s friday after all

“(y/n), huh? seems familiar…” sunghoon whispered beside him as jay picked up the phone and open it. the blinking line in the text box is waiting for his answer. he had a few more stuff to deliver as he had told sunghoon before about his order notes—jay is the bookkeeper for all this—but he deep down knows he’ll be the one to send them as sunghoon probably has a plan to do something with someone today. that’s when a hand perched on his shoulder as he peeks to spot sunghoon in his resting face, thinking to find the right words.

“i’ll do the delivery today. it’s gonna be bad for business if you’re the only one doing so.” sunghoon lets out a small smirk as jay’s eyes squint at him. “bro. my dick will fucking break if i hook up all the time. i’m not a fucking addict.”

“sure…” jay replied whilst chuckling as he stares at the screen before he replies.

coming out of the school, he went his way to the meeting place that he picked with sunoo—the boy’s best friend has something to do after school, so she left him alone. sunoo and jay walk quietly together as they’re both heading the same way.

“it’s weird to not see you with your friend,” jay commented as sunoo nods his head, knowing the sentiment. though sunoo looks soft compared to him, he is very compassionate, especially in his acting role. jay always assume that he would rather see sunoo star in the film club productions than beomgyu all the time. but, he doesn’t want to be biased about it as both of them are his friends. yet, as of recently, beomgyu has been straying more and more now. but he hasn’t thought about it much because he is getting more concerned about how much his order has been increasing since the day of the match. heeseung said that the choi household has family problems, and that’s why beomgyu’s sister has been hanging out at their flat more.

“yeah. she has an appointment with the doctor. something about her allergies making her skin itch, so she wants to get prescribed a lotion to help combat it.” jay hums from the answer as he looks at the boy’s thick paper in his hands.

“new script?”

“revision actually. the scriptwriter made some changes on how the two mains are going to do in their resolution scene.” sunoo replied, “we’re doing a coming-of-age movie a la perks of being a wallflower.“

“nice, can’t wait to watch it,” jay replied as sunoo lets out a tight-lip smile at him, his fingers twitching behind the script he is holding. when they arrive at an intersection with a corner store, sunoo stops as he said his farewells, wanting to grab something to snack on as he’ll memorize his lines. jay couldn’t hold on to his skateboard much longer and when he sees his friend entering the store, he immediately drops it down—gently, of course—before rolling away on the sidewalk. people avoiding him and he tried his best to avoid stationary people too.

after a few blocks, he used his foot to graze the concrete sidewalk as he sees the cafe he went to with sunoo, kai, and taehyun for doing homework together. their usual cafe, cafe 95. as he steps in, he could see a few people in the seats and the barista, a schoolmate of his in the same year, behind the bar with her boss, taehyung beside her. jay didn’t find your face in the crowd and also none of his friends was in any seat.

“jay park.” someone calls him from behind the counter. he sees taehyung man the cashier where the girl is off doing someone’s order.

“hey! iced americano as usual. take away for today.” jay replied as he pulled the right amount of cash out of his wallet before he then caught a bell ringing behind him. he usually isn’t one to turn around, but he is waiting for somebody to show up. and his worry fades away as he sees the dark blue blazer of a certain school before looking up at your face. taehyung has stepped away to do his order as he sees you approaching him by the cashier. you give him a small wave as you look at the cafe, enjoying the vibe that it gives out.

jay sees you standing right beside him, how your blazers touch each other’s, as his schoolmate comes and waits for your order. jay was looking away from his phone as he waits for you when he caught the quiet voices of the barista. combining it with your silent guise, he thinks you were still ordering. jay felt a tug on his sleeve as he looks to see your hand pulling him to the counter where you take your order.

“you ordered?” his eyebrows rise as he sees you giving him a thumbs up. he didn’t even hear what you were ordering, but you were staring at his schoolmate who is doing your order.

“how did you two communicate?” jay looks between you and the barista, bewildered. he genuinely thinks you were confused about what to order—maybe wanting him to help you order because it is his usual place.

“we just… did…” you replied in a small voice, seeing you smiling at his schoolmate who is mixing your drink, staring back at you. taehyung puts his order on the counter as he waits for your order to finish, staring at the vacant poster for a part-time barista position for the afternoon and evening. you were holding onto a plastic bag full of cat food once again as he reaches out to help you carry it.

you turn towards him shaking your head, “you have your skateboard. i don’t want to burden you.”

jay retreats to his standing position as your order arrives, seeing his schoolmate giving a warm smile and a “thank you” which you replied with your own before both of you walk out to go to your usual hang-out place: the seats near the skate park. as you both walk down the street, jay sees the variety of uniforms that he knows of the high schools in around this general area of seoul. the biggest four are decelis, levant, yanggun, and kosmo with each of their signature colors. they mingle with one another as if all the so-called rivalries are just that, a rivalry. all schools are ambitious in their own way, but in his eyes, it’s more of a friendly rivalry than the ones that could cost life or death. if sunghoon is with him right now, he could show him this street full of yanggun students mingling with decelis and more to him.

while he was thinking about ways to show his best friend is wrong, he didn’t see your solemn face.

the walk felt more quiet than usual as he settles all his belongings down by the seats, putting his coffee on the table as you sit across from him, sipping the beverage you order. your lips formed a straight line as you stare at the table before looking at the person on the other side of it. jay observed it all, how you cast your eyesight downwards, your newly painted black nail already looking as if you’ve chipped it off, and how your blazer is hanging on your shoulder; one pull and it falls down your arm.

“i…” you sigh before looking up at him. “i should explain to you that if you want me for my money and prestige, then i can’t give any to you.”

what?

“what-“

“no, hush.” you shush him directly as you let out a huge exhale. “since my parents are busy with whatever they have, my sister and i have got the home by ourselves. sure, it seems like a good thing, right? well, almost every single crappy day, somi invited her friends over, cheer friends, another popular crowd, and boys she’s hooking up with. new person each and every day.” you let out a chuckle.

“me?” you pointed to yourself. “nothing, my parents give me no permission to invite someone over. none of my three friends, heck my sister’s having a freaking party at our house cause they allowed her to.” you rubbed your hands on your face. jay can’t help but remember you sitting at that bench, body hunching as your shoulders shook, muffled sniffles coming from your end. he sees you shaking your head as you let your covered mouth speak.

“all because they see us from the intercom. me coming home at night. that night when you brought me home for the first time.”

jay noticed the intercom at the wall beside the wooden gate of your house, but both of you failed to notice that the camera is on. he recalls how you kiss his cheek and the rest two times he brought you home at night, all of those three times he brought you home. none of them includes pressing any bell button on the intercom.

“you’re the only one that i know who gets my problem. no matter if i’m old money and you’re new, i trust you for this because my parents hate decelis high as they’re levant alumni so they don’t have any connection to you in any way i can think of.”

and with that, your venting session begins. it surprised him to see how such a quiet persona can let out fiery and spicy comments. how burned up you felt from what you called “being the spare”, how you’re not allowed to be involved in your family business. how because of the clear succession plan for the company that is somi and her future contribution, they don’t consider you as any necessary part of the clockwork. how they send you to brighton to then bring you back for no clear reason. how you rather stayed in the UK instead of here. no matter how little the stake your problem is against the world—the stake that is so minuscule yet can be wildly catastrophic if not handled right because of your ties with your family name and brand—he resonates with it a lot. sure, he is continuing what his dad has made, but the way they shaped him up to be like him is a lot like how your family runs things. yet, a small comment from you stuck in his mind.

“if they’re treating me like this, why would they have me in the first place?”

the anxiousness that he can sense beneath that mysterious exterior finally shows itself to him. he understands now why no one other than levant high students knew of your well-being, especially with a popular sister and a conglomerate family. jay now knows why you rather speak with voiceless words and body language. they taught you to be subdued and when you mention your uncle back brighton, jay guessed that he was taught the same thing too. how your opinion doesn’t worth it.

but it all comes back to tradition. family, school, and society.

as he sits there and listens, he sees you broke down right before him. back in your second encounter, his want to comfort comes from a place of intrigue. but now, his comfort comes from affection. how when you shed your first tears, he jumped up from his chair and put himself right beside you, hugging you from the side. jay didn’t care if his blazer got all dirty from your tears and he have to laundry it again, he does it because he cares for you.

because he likes you.

“about your first words to me…” you lean back as he looks down at your bloodshot eyes.

“i don’t want you because of your conglomerate family, your name, any of that. i have those myself. too” his words caused you to roll your eyes. ‘anything is better rather than you shedding more tears.‘

“remember what i said back in that alley with that mom cat and her kittens…” jay reaches and brush your tears with the end of his blazer as you calm your breathing. “how intrigued i am with your quiet demeanor, your priority to give cat’s food, your rose scent that sticks in my mind.”

he crouches down so that your eye line can see right in his, and both of your upper arms are held by him. “i like you because you’re you. i like it if you rather be you than what other people perceive you as. i like the banter we have and any words i like from you that are inserted into my personal dictionary.”

“you like me?” he sees you mouth to him as he lets out an exasperated sigh, seeing you giggle as you sniff back any leftovers from crying. jay bit his lips before he replied with a nod, letting you point to yourself to then towards his chest.

“me to you back,” you whisper as you let out a small snicker before turning your body to face him.

he couldn’t believe how relaxed you look after he confesses and you reciprocate it back. but knowing you, he can sense your palpitations like his own when you return to your drink. your head lifted from your drink as you felt your blazer move from its position, turning your head to see jay pulling it off and folding it to put it inside your backpack as he does it to himself leaving both of your upper body with the long-sleeved white shirt as it outermost layer.

“no attribute that easily identifies your school when we were together.” he reminds you of the rule you both set up. outside of school grounds, outside of uniform, you and i.

you wiped your tears away as you nodded your hand, picked up your backpack, and slung it behind you as you outstretch your hand. jay smirks as he tidies his stuff before putting his hand on yours, pulling you away from the seats in the afternoon sun.

both of you did almost anything you could and always do when you both were together, exchanging his skateboard for both of you to ride, travelling to the nooks and crannies of the city where the dwellers aka cats live, even meeting up with the tabby kitten that left an impression on jay. you both wander to the arcade that he saw you in with your friends, coming across a decelis high student that jay greets as another one of his schoolmates that he knows is going to be a part of the student council replacing heeseung and his cabinet friends. trying to beat one another on a punching game before you both got frustrated on the claw machine—you pull out the last coin you got before giving a kiss and plunging it in for his attempt and when he caught one, he promptly hugs you and exclaimed loudly that you have to cover his mouth. even as the night is getting dark you both continue, flinging from store to store window shopping—jay realizing how you don’t really notice how he uses the high-end brands for his style, to even trying out more street food you haven’t tried before.

as the clock goes near 11 pm most of the stores near where you are closing and he dares you to cruise down the empty street, to which you agree. only the streetlights illuminate the two of you as you tried your best to obscure from crowded places; rather than spending time with the two of you alone. jay sense his energy slowly depleting as he lies down on the one-lane road you both have stayed in, noting the cold night being absorbed into the asphalt before sending cold yet refreshing shocks to his sweaty body, feeling the fabric sticking to his skin. he heard ruffles from beside him as you kneel and then follow him laying down by the street.

“no worries. this street is always empty at night causes the only access to this road is leading is small office buildings.” he reassured you, turning his head to face you laying beside him. “i’ve raced here with taehyun, kai, beomgyu, and sunghoon for a bet on paying the entire gang for eating in a new fried chicken restaurant. sunghoon lost the bet so…”

“yeah?” you turned your head to face him before you lay on your side. the combination of the streetlight and the moon shines on you as if you are sleeping in a forest, well, a concrete-made forest of nighttime seoul. the light shines on your cheek and glistens into the eye facing upwards. even in the dark, he can see the warmth from your gaze. the bloodshot eyes are gone for now as it heals.

he sees you scoot closer before your hand reaches for him, his face, cupping it lightly and softly before you lean down, letting your lips meet his. jay regretted not bringing his lip balm cause he can feel how chapped his lips are comparing to yours. that is before he felt your tongue caressing his bottom lip even with his eyes closed. he pulls you close as he used his strength to sit both of you up, letting him cup your jaw as he tilts his head. you were the one that lean back first, sensing your nose tip against his own.

“can i smoke spliff in your apartment and stay the night? don’t want to go to a bloody party,” you whispered, eyes staying on his. a sparkle reflecting on it from the streetlights.

“of course, you can.” he erects from the floor before he picks you up bringing you to his flat. the walk was quiet in the surrounding environment but warm for the two of you. hands interlocking with each other, jay carries his skateboard in his other hand. sometimes lifting your connected hands to give the back of your palm as the wind blows the two of you, realizing how long the day has been where events happened so much that gives trial and tribulations for both of you mentally and emotionally.

opening the door with the code, he is met with the shine from the various lamps that are turned on to stay alight for the night. by the looks of the shoes, heeseung has his girlfriend here and sunghoon is at home; weird. jay is embarrassed to bring you into his man cave, but you were looking at it in awe. posters of musicians right beside his wardrobe, a perfect set-up for his area with two monitors. stickers on his desk and his bedframe and a picture of a forest illustration that has the words washington, US, on it.

“let me grab you something you could wear so you can wash up.” you nod your head as he gives you the clothes he found in his wardrobe, pointing towards the door of the bathroom. when the door of the bathroom closes, he returns to the room as he tidies up your stuff, and pulls out your blazer before putting it on a hanger.

“yo, jay!”

said the boy fucking jumps as he sees his best friend peek into his room. “for fuck's sake, hoon, what the fuck?”

“geez… just wanting to ask you who’s in the bathroom cause hee’s probably in his mama bear arc and not wanting anyone to wake his girlfriend up again.” sunghoon steps inside the room wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, readying to tackle the nightlife. jay thought his nightlight is enough to not let him notice his surrounding in a scrutinizing way. that is before he stood by the blazer hanging by the wardrobe.

“(l/n) (y/n)? wait, jjong?!” sunghoon turns towards him with a smirk on his face.

“doing it in fucking uniform, huh? my boy has grown up-“

“we didn’t do what you picturing and i’m fucking older than you. what do you mean?” jay retaliates as he sees the mischievous gaze in his friend’s eyes.

“by 8 months, by the way. so because she’s in the bathroom, i should probably see the mysterious girl you’re hiding from me in 3… 2...”

“um…” both of the boys turn to see you, towel around your shoulder as you wear jay’s clothes. the boy sees his friend’s lips lifting as he glances at you. jay can’t help to roll his eyes at how sunghoon is approaching you, curiosity in his eyes.

“(y/n), right? the name is sunghoon.” he sees sunghoon greets you with shaking hands and a wink. while you squint your eyes as he analyzes your face.

“hey, hey. no. not my girl.” jay approaches and grabs you, putting himself in front of you. sunghoon’s eyes squint as he stares at both of you, no look of recognition in his eyes on who you are now.

“wow, your girl, huh? okay.” sunghoon playfully retreats. “all of today’s orders are done but i want you to be my wingman and scavenge partner so i could get laid.”

“i know a party.” you mumbled from behind jay’s shoulder. “there’s a party right in the rich neighborhood area. if you know (l/n) somi before, there is a party at her house right now.” jay turns his head to glance at you, eyebrows lifted. “got the news from another levant student.” you tried to twist as best as you can.

“hmm, smart girl. great inspection. and sure thing i’ll do that.” sunghoon walks past the both of you as jay steps to the door.

“don’t forget a condom, jjong.”

“shut the fuck up,” jay replied as he heard the front door close, turning back towards you as he shook his head before pointing at his sleepwear in his bathroom. you give him a nod as you settle down on his chair, waiting for the boy to return.

after it, his room window opens, jay brought an ashtray out to put in between the two of you. usually, he already has the joints rolled and ready to go, but for today, he lets you try the fresh ones he has picked. you sat with your knees in front of you, staring at how he is rolling the paper with the grass inside before licking the end with saliva, seeing bulge from how many of them inside.

“one each is enough because we always shared ours,” he said as he give one to you and lit up a lighter, letting both of your blunts burn at the ashy scent lets you burn.

smoke flies in the room before being blown out outside the window as you both smoke each joint at your own pace. jay noticed your head on his shoulder as both of you share a joke. how your giggles make his heart flutter more, which makes him gaze at you with hooded eyes. chill, ambient music playing from the speaker of his computer as you picked yourself up from beside him, scooting yourself closer as you take another hit of your shortening joint. sit cross-legged in front of each other, jay watches how the weight has lifted off of you, your pupils blown out as you stare at his, knees touching as he moves closer while tapping the joint to the ashtray, letting the ash fall.

“it’s nice,” you mumbled, eyes gazing down on the messy sheet from where you both sat and lay down. jay hums before you continue.

“quiet. letting go of reality. brushing away any problems.” you talk slowly, the smoke leaving your mouth after you take another puff. “i never felt the way i felt with you before.”

jay straightens up as he sees you reach for your eyebags with your forefinger, brushing away a tear that you left out. he caught your glistening eyes before he brought you into his embrace, letting your face rest on his chest as he took another hit of the burning stick. your body trembles beneath his touch as he can only soothes you with his hand caressing down your back. all of him is warm, from the drug circulating in his body to the way your hand rests on his shoulder blades. jay kisses your head as the grass stench now makes the usual rose you wear faded away.

from where he sat, he can see the backpack you brought to school, watching the small cat plushie keychain that you told him from kiki’s delivery service as it rests against the patterned backpack. he recognizes how much you love cats and he understands why you rather use your pocket money to give to them. how you told him a story about an incident on the road that happened before you move away with your parents, a dead kitten at the side of the road because of them, and how they blatantly ignore it even if your chauffeur wanted to help at least burying the kitten.

“that’s why you care for cats.”

you nodded as you gaze at the skaters, “i see myself in that kitten. at that young age, i knew they didn’t love me as much as my older sister. how they want to hide me at somi’s birthday party when mine isn’t as lavish as hers, then when they send me away, i was too young to not push myself to ask why. as if i was being sent on a pilgrimage on their behalf.”

“i strive to care for stray cats because i could care for them, unlike how my parents are ignorant to me… well…” you lean forwards towards him.

“i’m like that stray cat. you are too, my friends and yours could be counted also. we’re dirty because of the environment we are in and we try our best to survive, jongseong.” jay looks at your flattened face as his brain runs with your metaphor, and how right it can be. “now you know why stray cats like to huddle with each other, right? cause they need a pack to help them survive.”

jay was looking at you in a daze when he didn’t realize you lift your head to face him. your fingers reach for his sharp face as his eyes move to meet you. your other hand putting the joint in the ashtray as he felt his own remove from between his fingers. even with your hooded eyes and dried streaks of tears, you still look as beautiful as ever.

he embraces your cheeks with both of his hands, meeting his lips with yours. the moisture coming from your kiss is getting more prominent as both of you made a mess, letting your tongue battle with each other as you both help each other with your appetite. it is past midnight, and he doesn’t want to bother heeseung in the room even if he’s two doors down, especially with his recovering insomniac girlfriend making him more sensitive to not waking her up.

his hands travel down your back, both heads tilted opposite ways to capture each other deeper, as he pushes you onto his lap before he lies on his back—you on top of him. your fingers are gripping his white t-shirt as he can sense your skin from your own rising on your back. you sighed as his palm met your skin, letting your head lift as he catches a string of saliva between the two of you.

“i never felt the way i felt with you, too,” jay replied with your own words as your high self let out snickers before embracing him back, enjoying how his hand trails up your side as you brought yours to his nape, letting you know how much he is down for you as the flame that burns your joints died down in that ashtray, only leaving the gray matter as your hand reaches for his shirt, lifting it up.

you brush your hair away from the mess it gets from being tangled. the morning breeze brushes your legs from yesterday’s uniform skirt you are still wearing. the sun is hiding behind the white clouds as you stepped out into the city early enough to only see people working out—jogging and cycling—on the streets. the blazer that hangs on your torso is thick enough to embrace you in the cloudy weather. you don’t know what you expect when you return home, a messy one or one that is as clean as new?

when you brought yourself out of jay’s embrace and duvet, you find yourself in his shorts and your bra—turning around to find him also shirtless. none of the roommates has woken up as you trek to their shared bathroom, smelling the smell associated with boys from the body sprays and deodorants they have strewn around. your eyes glance at the dark marks on your collarbones and on the skin exposed above your bra, making out until you both got too tired and let sleep consumes you. you recall how you move the ashtray to his bedside table as you bring yourself off of his lap, feeling his skin on yours. you quickly brush your face with cold water, waking yourself up as best as you sense the dryness of your oesophagus.

stepping back into his room, he is still fast asleep facing the open window of the apartment, the chirping birds’ voice coming inside as the computer that played music is in rest mode. you quickly change yourself back into your uniform-even with the blazer that you found hanging by the wardrobe as you heard vibration on a desk. walking up to it, text notifications showed up on what appeared to be jay’s phone.

hoon missed call (5)

hoon: we got an nooise complanann so the partys fauskcing cnaecl.

hoon: shit fuckk ur not answeringn.

hoon: iim crashiinng at sunooo

mom: hey honey, just wanted to remind you that we’ll arrive in korea today. see you in 12 hours. love you, jongseong.

you stepped away from the phone as you catch a groan coming from the boy, stretching out his hands from under his duvet. you reached his side of the bed, giving a peck at his exposed cheek.

“i’ll reach out to you soon,” you whispered in his ear before you grab your stuff and return to your home of a mansion.

even with the text sunghoon wrote—which you can deduct by reading carefully—you expected little that your house tidied up. that is when you’re met with the house as clean as ever. the housekeeper brushing away the wall with soap water as if the leftover of the party is still staining there. when they see you, you notice how spooked they are as you approach, entering the gate when you find out the car park has one more vehicle in place than when you left it.

you gulped as you see the housekeepers around you looking at you, the security guards, and gardeners, all of them pausing in various amounts of time to stare at you, the same look of spooked with a hint of tiredness in their eyes. sighs coming out from you—trying to think as clearly as possible—before you brace yourself and step towards the front door. you knew even if you stepped inside; you’ll be meeting them, especially since your dad needs his caffeine intake as early as this hour. stepping out of the shoes, you held onto your backpack straps as you let your slippery socks let you slide into the room, already feeling the harsh reality coming back when you not only found dad drinking his cup of coffee but also your mom and your sister beside her.

all of their eyes are on you as both of your parents view you with disappointment and disgrace, while somi has an expression of guilt hidden beneath her tired eyes. you hold yourself up with sparks forming in your gaze, teeth-gritting each other as you can guess the conversation you’ll be having based on the historical actions you’ve done to this family and what this family have done to you.

“(y/n). come sit here.” your mom said as you took a step, one by one, to reach the chair she pointed; sitting opposite the two women while dad is at the head of the table. somi’s eyes drift at your figure, her blonde hair looks as dishevelled as ever, but no trace of the party she did last night evidently on her. like the true good kid she is.

“four times. four times and maybe more that we didn’t catch, (y/n).” your mom starts as you gaze down at the dining table. the ice-cold—even your sister also shows one—gazes are stinging you more than the flame inside you, biting in small yet sharp nips as you let them continue. you’ve always stayed silent to them and they feared you for that, but with how your mom continues to scold you, you realize that they’re turning your quiet demeanour into an acceptance—how your silence changes its status to no permission to judge—letting her continue to tell you anything wrong with you, how disrespectful you’ve gotten, and much, much more.

but it brought the anxiety that sits within you up as a shield. your vision and mind haze in an uncertain fog as you try your best to block it; freezing yourself up. everything is running through your mind so fast that you don’t have enough time to analyze anything, but you know that your anxiousness to speak out is why she continues, even with your dad giving in to spoke little comments or adding to your mom’s argument. your eyes gaze on your sister’s as you see her eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring as you only see her concern right now. where has she been, huh? you wanted to exclaim.

the way your parents are continuing to berate you makes you stare at your sister and see her with her friends doing the same way with your schoolmate and juniors. your heart beats rapidly when you found out that you’re a pawn in their game.

“you wanted to know why. right? you’re going to be somi’s right-hand woman as chief operating officer. you’ll have a board seat along with her and us as you then going to take care of the new start-ups we required.” start-ups that even you identify aren’t profitable with the little economic lesson you got in the classroom and on the internet. even with the way they mention them, somi looks at them with her unreadable expression to others but you learned, even with that small glimpse, she’s jealous you still got to do something even on a known sinking armada of companies. you don’t know what your parents have gotten you into as all the power-hungry sides come out from behind the masks. now you can recognize the ice-cold gaze somi has before returning to concern: they were teaching her you’re her competition, not her sister.

they’re manipulating her as much as they manipulate you. as much as your grandpa manipulates your uncle. survival of the fittest.

but you don’t want to be subdued like your uncle is. even if he is not involved, he is still smart enough to tell you the horrible telltales from it. you had no choice but to voice out because you’re getting dizzy for not letting the fire out.

“ENOUGH!”

your parents and sister all looked at you aghast. the housekeepers inside the room are also shocked as they look your way. your chair is pushed back from how quick and powerful your stance is, standing up with your hands on the table.

“you are vile. all of you are vile, power-hungry, monsters. i see now that you’re making me your pawn and puppet, just how somi is being taught now.” somi looks at you, eyes widen as she heard you speak now after only replying in short answers all the time. her hands are now rubbing against each other as you held on.

“if you think that i’m the naughty one within this bunch, haven’t you thought about your favourite kid, huh? her constant partying, inviting “friends” over which she hooks up. even last night, she had this fucking party you don’t know that even the police got involved." you let out a villainous smile. you now learned you are that in their eyes. “but you didn’t care. you didn’t care shit about the troubles your successor has done, cause you rather heckle me.”

“(l/n) (y/n)!” your dad spokes scarily, trying to deter you, which he now knows is failing as you stare at him as menacingly as possible. like a tiger chasing after its prey while also fighting another species that is trying to get to it first.

“you don’t fucking care about me. you’re trying to set somi against me and ruin this fucking family, just like how grandpa is ruining it for you and your brother. but now i see it, dad. i realize how you treat me like a spare.” you let out words you’ve been internalizing for a while, your throat slowly getting hoarse as you realized you haven’t eaten or drunk anything since you left jay’s apartment.

“okay, that’s it.” your mom now stand up as somi is looking at the giants in front of her, fury rushes between each of her family when she looks at you and sees how your body is shuddering, eyes looking straight at your mom, and how dry your lips are.

“you have two choices, (y/n).” your mom stares at your dad as if they have been planning for this for a long time. a smirk between the two of them that disgust you so much before she looks back at you. “one. you’ll stay here. we shaped you into an amazing entrepreneur who will follow in your dad’s and grandpa’s footsteps as president along with your sister as ceo. you still live in this house, gaining every inch of luxury and privilege you can get.”

“or two. you’ll leave and start from zero. we will pay the tuition for you until this semester and then the only asset you get from us is from your trust fund, which is enough for you to live by, but we could remove you anytime. find where you live by yourself and no luxuries from this household, including bringing a housekeeper. no joining company parties. no connection to the family whatsoever under business pretences.” your mom speaks as confidently as possible, believing you stay with them because of how quiet equals “carelessness” from every consequence around you. a smile is forming internally as you know the best option you picked. you let out a calming sigh to yourself.

“i’ll leave.” your mom’s smile fades as she returns to look at your dad. “you never even cared for me, anyway. but if you think that you’re going to rid me of the trust fund, just so you know i still have people at my side.” your eyes landed on your sister who has been quiet the whole time. “even your successor.”

you give a tiny nod before getting rid of yourself from the table as you return to your room. pulling out the suitcases and bags you get, you open your wardrobe one by one, not minding to let your room door close before you see one of the housekeepers enters and goes to the stuff you’ve put on top of your mattress, looking at the door to find a few more standing by your door.

“let us help, miss.” you give her a nod as a few others step in and help you clean up, only pulling the things that you needed clothes, undergarments, toiletries, your stationeries, and a few of your memorable items such as your favourite toys—especially the kitten cuddly toy you got with your friends from the claw machine. your room is being ransacked and packed into bags as you finish a phone call when you turn to see somi leaning against your doorframe. you give the housekeepers a nod as you let them do their job while bringing yourself to face your sister. you recognize how grimy your body is, but you couldn’t care less because you rather leave as soon as possible.

your gaze at your sister makes her openly cower before she said, “i’m sorry. i’m sorry for making you feel this way. i’m sorry for being mom and dad’s favourite child. i’m sorry for not defending you, i’m-“

“hey.” you stopped her as your hand embraces one of hers. her blonde hair looks puffy as if she had it tied from last night’s party. “i forgive you. but i will not forgive our parents for what they’ve done to me any time soon. how labile they are for their choices about me and everything surrounding us. how they don’t feel any wrong about pitting their daughters against each other. but i know…” your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her.

“i know that you’re feeling as anxious as i especially when facing them. and it’s normal. i guess this could be a wake-up call for them as much as it is a wake-up call for you.” you pat her hands as you give a small smile.

“you know what? fuck them, right? we don’t want to be born like so let us just start all o-“

“you’re being impulsive, somi.” you stopped your sister as your eyes gaze at her, shaking your head. “i rather you stay. they love you enough and you’ve been shaped to be one of the most powerful women in the media in the future. don’t waste all of that for me.” somi’s eyes have water in them as you tried your best to hold it in because as much as you want to break down in front of her, you still don’t trust her.

“you’re going to be my woman from the inside, okay? take care of our parents for me.” you rub your sister’s upper arm before she brings you into a hug, a crushing hug that brought you back to when both of you were kids. both of you were too innocent for the machiavellian family and world you were born in. somi’s sobs muffled by your shoulder as you can’t help but let out a tear before you wipe it away. leaning back, you see your sister let out a small smile.

“i’m gonna miss you.”

“i’m still in the same school as you, aren't i? we can meet at school,” you replied, making her let out a chuckle.

she nods her head as you turn to see a housekeeper telling you they’re done with their work. you tell them to bring it to the carpark and give them a small “thank you.” you bring the bags filled with your important assets—notebook, laptop, chargers, et cetera—to the car that is set up for you; knowing that your parents will still lend you one even if they disown you. putting in the back seat as you want to sit at the front, you turn to face the front door to see somi by the steps and your parents at the door, obscure by darkness.

“farewell.” you mouthed to yourself as you sit in the front seat of the car your family owns one last time.

the ride was quiet but exciting for you. a new beginning, even if it was unconventional. the gps is showing where your destination is as the chauffeur continues. the weekend is getting more hustle and bustle as people went out to their own thing and how you’re going to be those people intrigues you. when you arrived by the high-rises of the apartment complex, you give out a text as your car stops. you help the chauffeur pull out your bags from the back seat and boot before you give him a tip. “for a drink, for cig, i don’t know it depends on you.”

“thank you, miss.” the chauffeur steps into the car as the vehicle leaves you by the lobby of the building. you look down at your phone as you tried to text again when you heard his voice.

“no fucking way.” you see jay emerging from the door in his outfit from last night as you give him a tight-lip smile. his eyes wander the bags around you as he asked, “what happened?”

“long story short, i left my house and have no one to stay with so i phone the only person i trust with this.” you stepped towards him, hands behind you as you sway like a schoolgirl. “can i stay with you for a bit? i can move out if i find a unit for myse-“

“you can stay.” he moves closer with a smirk on his face, “if you’ll be with me?”

“i- i, okay. sure.” you let out a giggle. “weirdest way to have a boyfriend but i guess here we are.”

“yeah.” he chuckles and pulls his own phone out. “i gotta call hee first. they could help bring these up.” he widens his arms as you step to hug him in your arms while he wraps you tight, letting him call the others with you in his embrace. the boys and heeseung’s girlfriend all step down as they brought your stuff up when you find the apartment in a chaotic state.

“sorry (y/n), jay’s parents are gonna come over for dinner tonight and we’ve been trying our best to get rid of the plants.” heeseung said.

“i know. i saw the notification before leaving.” that’s when an idea came to your mind.

all five of you help clean the place up along with settling your stuff in jay’s room. the boys tried their best to get rid of the smoke and grass scents as jay makes the meal for the rest of them and his parents. you also did a detour with heeseung’s girlfriend to help camouflage the weed plants—all of them are now on the balcony. as heeseung’s girlfriend left to go home, you are the only that left to help with the little details as the boys are preparing themselves. when you help place dinner—just like how you remember the housekeeper places them—the boys all flock wearing the most academic and semi-formal outfits they have. that’s when all of you heard the bell as jay strays away and goes to greet his parents at the door. you stare at sunghoon and heeseung beside you as you remembered what they mentioned of them.

“they’re protective over jay but they do care for him. sometimes a bit too much like joining in his unnecessary business and all of that shit.”

jay emerges from the front door and you see his parents coming in wearing pretty casual clothes since jay said they check into their hotel after arriving. heeseung and sunghoon greets jay’s parents before they stopped to look at you as jay steps behind to bring you over.

“mom, dad. this is (y/n). my girlfriend.” his parents’ eyes widen as his mom lets out a sheepish smile, similar to his smile.

“nice to meet you, (y/n). he hasn’t told us about you.” his mom greets you positively as you tried your best to reply.

“likewise, mrs. park. we became official nearly a week ago. i didn’t expect to meet his parents so early too.” you tried to laugh it off while weaving the truth. of course, you don’t want them to learn that jay brought you to meet his parents the same day both of you are official.

“of course. i didn’t expect jay to have a high school sweetheart like his parents have until now.” mr. park chimes in as you glimpse the boys snickering while nudging jay’s side. you let both of them stand in and look around the room—you’ve hidden your stuff in boxes and his spare cabinet so that they don’t know you are living there.

their eyes scanned the used-to-be empty space in the living room where heeseung has set up a table for the dinner and then to the balcony beside it.

“is that rose that i see?” mrs. park steps towards. your eyes gaze at the boys as her son picks up the conversation.

“yes. heeseung’s girlfriend likes plants, so we let her take care of plants here too. (y/n) added the roses and chrysanthemums so it doesn’t look dull. so now, we have something to do at home. we wanted pets but we don’t know if we’re free enough to take care of one.” jay spoke the story all of you created to lie to his parents as your eyes land on him. you give him a wink, to which he replied with the same thing as he brought the parents to the table where the dinner is served.

jay rode his skateboard down the sidewalk and along the bicycle path of the streets of seoul, pushing his foot against the road so that it moves faster and faster. he almost forgot that his friends wants to meet up at cafe 95 to get an early dinner together before he read the now 11-person group chats. the afternoon sun shines on him as the wind is blowing on the ends of his blazer and his untucked white shirt. he has gone to several places to deliver the goods after school, seeing his fingers stain from the marker. his empty stomach is raging at him to fill up as he navigates through the sea of people.

the cafe’s exterior lights show in his vision as he approached it closer and closer. when he is close, jay slows down with his foot before kicking his skateboard to put it upright, seeing another skateboard similar to his already leaning against the bicycle racks at the front. the one he recognizes is the same model as his own but has a large rose pattern at the bottom between the wheels.

jay pushes the door as the bell rings when he looked at the gang’s usual corner to see some of them already at the table. even sunghoon who is also delivering already arrived before him. he pokes his cheek before stepping towards the counter whilst pulling out his wallet from his uniform pants.

“the usual iced americano?” he lifts his head to see you behind the cashier, wearing your barista outfit as his schoolmate is on the espresso machine, letting him smell the delicious aroma of caffeine.

when you mentioned to him how you wanted to at least try working for your own money, he remembers an open spot for a barista in cafe 95 and mentioned it to you. safe to say you got the job after jimin, the other co-founder of cafe 95 along with taehyung, tests you on their different coffees, and each ingredient needed—something he listens to as you sat on your shared bed, memorizing it like a school test. you have mixed all the cluttered items in his room with your own as it doesn’t look like a man cave anymore. decelis relics being mixed with levants, textbooks that are similar but made by different publishers, and the cat plushie sits by your bedside table. though with not much of a difference on color scheme, you have integrated yourself into his room and his life; making his dull one much more thrilling.

“yes. by the way, how’s the order?” jay whispered to you.

you lean in as best as you can so he could hear. “jooyeon, mako, and ryujin. all done. all deliver. how are you going to pay for the coffee, good sir?” you lean back after answering what he questioned.

ever since you stayed with the boys, rumors are going around about how you’re dating a decelis student known as “jay the stoner” in your school. that’s when you decide to take another avenue and be a part of the operation with him and sunghoon, a delivery staff specifically for levant high students or the ones surrounding it.

“cash. is all of the gang here?” jay mentions before putting it toward you.

“all except for taehyun and beomgyu, it seems,” you replied as you look the side to see all of your friends with him gathering at the corner.

jay gets his change and lets you make his order as he comes face-to-face with his friends. kai scoots towards sunghoon so that jay can sit beside him, facing sunoo who has his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

“you’ve seen beomgyu and taehyun?” he asked the two best friends who should know because of their relationship with the film club.

both of them shaking their heads as jay returns his gaze to his other friends who were talking about sunghoon, wondering what his two friends are up to. yet, no other of his friends are concerned.

his trance left as he felt you entering beside him, putting his order on the table. at least for now, jay can still enjoy his friends and new girlfriend all together, excited for what is coming. especially with the movie that sunoo has told about which his film club friends are taking a part to produce.

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#enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #rsc: smirch #cr: jay #cs: enhypen #sc: regina

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