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lustspren · 8 months

Text

O Sole Mio ft Soyeon, Yuqi.

length: 9.5k words ✦

Soyeon, Yuqi & Male Reader.

(The Judge A.U)

genres: threesome, anal, voyeur, hard sex, double blowjob, oral sex, facefuck, squirt, facial, bi, outdoor sex, squirt, bdsm

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You didn't know where the hell you were or what had happened, but you woke up accompanied by two stupidly hot and beautiful girls on each side of your body. You rubbed your eyes for a few seconds, and blinked a couple of times to regain awareness of what had happened. Minnie was still with her back to your left, and Soyeon was still hugging you in the same way she fell asleep a few hours ago. Both were quite disheveled and visibly destroyed.

"Damn, we left her a mess right?" Soyeon said next to you, because of the position of her head you hadn't realized that she was awake.

"Don't bring me into that, you were the conductor," you tried to excuse yourself, smiling up at the ceiling.

"Maybe, but you were the solo violinist," she patted you on the chest and sat up, smoothing her hair back and stretching out her arms.

Minnie began to stir at the sound of your voices, and at one point she rolled over to lie on her side facing you. You stared at her for a few seconds while Soyeon stood up and looked for some things in her suitcase, she slowly opened her eyes, smiling when she met your gaze; She closed her eyes again, and with a small smile still on her face, she reached up to put an arm around your body and hug you tight.

"This is not the time to continue sleeping, Miss Yontararak," you said, hugging her back.

"Hmm, what time is it?" she said sleepily, snuggling against your chest. You looked at Soyeon since you had no way of knowing.

"3:21 in the morning," Soyeon said after checking her phone and pulling her hair up into a high bun.

"Damn, we did get a lot of sleep," Minnie replied, and she pulled away from you to let out a long yawn before sitting up.

"Yeah, and I'm fucking hungry as well as sticky," Soyeon sighed, standing on the side of the bed and looking at the two of you, "get up, we'll take a shower."

"I don't feel my body, it seems like I went to the gym for 5 days straight just doing legs," Minnie said rubbing her thighs then trying to stand up, failing.

"Honey, please help her, I'll wait for you in there," Soyeon said to you, and you nodded before standing up in front of Minnie, offering her both your hands.

"How gentlemanly," Minnie teased, taking both of your hands and standing in front of you, your bodies only inches apart. She looked you up and down, and raised an eyebrow with a little smile, "And hot," after saying that, you and she shared a slow and sensual kiss in which you remained immersed for long seconds. You would have lasted longer making out, but Soyeon's voice interrupted you.

"Everything alright out there?!" Soyeon asked from the now running shower.

"Come on, we'll have time for more kissing later," you winked at her, and slipped an arm around her waist to help her walk toward the bathroom.

When you two entered the bathroom, Soyeon was already under the shower behind the slightly misted glass, she had turned on some of the hot water. You went inside it with Minnie, leaving her between you and Soyeon for the two of you to help her stand up and bathe. You had a nice time there in the shower, no lewd comments or anything, just silly little laughs while making fun of Minnie.

After about twenty minutes the three of you came out of the bathroom wrapped in your respective towels and "dressed" to make yourself comfortable. Minnie just wore a short black tank top with black panties, Soyeon an oversized hoodie with absolutely nothing else underneath, and you stayed only in your boxers.

"What do you want to eat? I can call room service," Soyeon said, sitting on the edge of the bed as she looked at the two of you, already nestled between the pillows.

"Hmm, I don't know," you said, "I could eat an elephant if I had to, so I'll leave the decision up to you."

"I want baked chicken!" Minnie said, you and Soyeon looked at her with both eyebrows raised.

"That's quite a heavy meal for these hours," Soyeon warned, going to pick up the room phone.

"I sleep better with a full stomach," she smiled, and Soyeon had no choice but to comply with her wishes.

Soyeon called room service. She not only ordered food, she also ordered an extra set of sheets to remedy the mess you left a few hours ago. The requested service arrived about an hour after the order, and after changing the sheets, you enjoyed a delicious meal before finally lying on the same bed, watching an American variety show that was not funny at all. but it was entertaining at least. This time Soyeon was between the two of you, both hugging her.

"I can't take it anymore… I have to sleep," Minnie said sleepily after a yawn.

"Me too, my eyes are heavy," you said, rubbing them and then pulling the blanket up to your neck.

"Then rest well, babies," Soyeon said, before giving each of you an affectionate peck on the temples, minutes later, the three of you fell asleep to the voice of some host with less grace than a funeral in the background.

———————————————————————

A bright new day in LA, and a new day of filming for the girls of G-IDLE. This day was going to be a very different one for them, since the recording team rented a luxurious house perfect for the summer in which they were going to shoot some scenes in the pool.

Soyeon and Yuqi would be chosen for this occasion. The day went great for most of it, little mishaps here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary for a day of shooting for a couple of girls who were more than used to this level of work.

During this day Soyeon had the perfect pretext for her next master plan, and that was the incredibly hot bikini that Yuqi wore during the entire filming session. She couldn't stop looking at her and drooling for her body for even a second, Yuqi was meaty in absolutely every right part, perfect tummy, perfect legs, and a nice round ass that she couldn't wait to revel in.

"Manager-nim!" Soyeon approached her manager, who was discussing important issues with some producers but had no choice but to give her the attention she deserved, "we'll have a day off tomorrow, right?" she asked.

"Oh let me see," the man took his phone out of his pocket and entered the notes, then nodded, "that's right, why?"

"I just wanted to know if it was possible to rent this house just for us tomorrow," the manager was perplexed for a few seconds.

"Well..." apparently he didn't quite know what to say, even the producers were baffled, "for what?"

"Fuck just give me the contact of the owner of the house, we'll pay with our own money," Soyeon snapped already impatient, crossing her arms.

"Well, well, whatever you say," he said, "don't drink, that's the only condition I give you."

"Seems fair to me," Soyeon agreed with a smirk.

"It wasn't exactly cheap, so prepare your pockets," he warned, and soon Soyeon received the contact on her phone.

"I've made enough money, don't worry about me," Soyeon winked at him, and after a little pat on his shoulder, she went back to Yuqi to give her the news.

———————————————————————

"May I know the reason behind this last minute rental, Jeon Soyeon?" Minnie asked as the two of them left their suitcases in one of the bedrooms in the house that had a direct view of the pool.

"I won't even bother lying to you, there's the reason," Soyeon nodded her head to the right, to the window through which you could see Yuqi laying down on one of the pool chairs.

"Oh, and you're going to invite him, right?" Minnie asked, sitting on the edge of one of the beds.

"He'll be coming here shortly, yes," Soyeon stated, undressing right in front of her to start putting on a two-piece swimsuit, "that's why I need a big favor."

"You want me to get Miyeon and Shuhua out of here, right?" Minnie raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, just take them shopping around, those two bitches love that," Soyeon adjusted her bathing suit top and then went to sit on Minnie's lap, wrapping her arms around her neck. Minnie grabbed her waist, "I promise I'll make it up to you later."

"You better eat my pussy so good you have me squirting in your mouth, this is going to be tricky," Minnie said, biting her lip in a small smile, "alright, get up, I've got a couple of chumps to take on a hike."

"Remember to buy them nice and expensive panties, they'll need them later," Soyeon winked at Minnie and then stood up. Minnie also got up, and after giving Soyeon a kiss on the jaw, she left through the bedroom door.

Soyeon waited for a long time, hoping to hear the main gate of the village open as that would be her signal that Minnie and company had finally left the place. The gate opened, and immediately Soyeon headed towards the pool.

She reached the pool, finding the funny image of Yuqi trying to put sunscreen on her back but failing as her arms didn't reach. As soon as she became aware of Soyeon's presence, her face lit up.

"Oh! Thank god you're here," she said, handing her the bottle of sunscreen and settling into the pool chair with her back to her.

"Could you at least say hello to me first, right?" Soyeon said, raising an eyebrow, to sit right behind her and take the bottle of sunscreen.

"I saw you half an hour ago, for what?" Yuqi asked with a frown.

"I don't know, education I guess," Soyeon said with a shrug. She opened the bottle of sunscreen, poured a little into each palm, and began to spread it all over her milky back.

"Education? I've been knowing you for more than 6 years, woman," she excused herself, looking towards the beautiful landscapes of California.

"So what? I'm still older than you," Soyeon smiled, running her hands over every inch of soft skin as gently as she could, slowly making her movements more and more sensual as she reached her waist.

"Huh?!" Yuqi exclaimed, offended, "You're only a year older than me!" She was starting to get tense, so Soyeon snuggled up behind her, pressing her lower body against her ass.

"It doesn't matter if it's a year, I'm older than you and you have to live with that," Soyeon said in a huskier, lower voice, close to Yuqi's ear, who Soyeon noticed as she shuddered, "I even think you should call me mommy,” Soyeon giggled.

"W-what are you talking about?" Yuqi asked, slightly nervous at Soyeon's closeness, but also delighted by the work that her hands were doing on her back and lower back.

"Just a suggestion..." Soyeon massaged both sides of Yuqi's torso, very close to her tits, "god, do you know how hot you look in this bikini?"

"Ah, really?" Yuqi played along with her, matching her seductive low tone of voice but putting on her trademark deep voice.

"Fuck yeah," Soyeon was now whispering in her ear, "I haven't been able to stop staring at your sexy body since yesterday," her hands now went to her tits, grabbing and massaging them over the top of the fabric. Yuqi let out small gasps.

"And what are you supposed to do about it, unnie?" Yuqi moved her hips slightly, feeling the heat take over her body.

"Well, all I'm thinking about is fucking you mercilessly," Soyeon slipped her hands under her bikini top, playing with Yuqi's small, hard nipples as she gently squeezed her tits, "eat that nice pink pussy… fuck, I'm happy just filling your ass with spanks."

"Hmfmm.." Yuqi pursed her lips, reaching back with one hand to cup the side of Soyeon's face and gently caress it. Soyeon already had her trapped in her cobwebs.

Soyeon didn't continue saying anything, instead she used her hands as a method of communication so that Yuqi understood what she wanted at that precise moment. She removed her hands from Yuqi's tits, only to give the knot at her back a little tug to remove her bikini top and leave her small mounds free.

Yuqi pressed her back against Soyeon's chest, and with a perfect view of her sexy tummy and her thighs, Soyeon lowered one of her hands down her abdomen to slide it under her bikini bottom, running her hands up. fingers between her slightly wet folds. Yuqi tensed a little between small discreet moans, which soon stopped being discreet since Soyeon inserted a finger inside her pussy.

“Mmm… so wet and silky,” Soyeon whispered, nibbling on Yuqi's earlobe. She pumped only one finger for less than a minute, and soon added a second finger inside her, then began pumping her wrist slightly faster.

At that moment you arrived.

The way to the village had been longer than you thought, Soyeon had paid for the taxi and sent it directly to the hotel where you were all staying now, so you never really knew the address of where you were going, the only idea you had you had was thanks to the photos that Soyeon had been sending you since she was there. As you were leaving the center of the city, you realized that you were going straight to the top of Beverly Hills. Luckily you had dressed for the occasion, the sun was set on your heads, but you were dressed in khaki shorts, a baggy black t-shirt and white sneakers.

As soon as she saw you out of the corner of her eye, Soyeon waved at you with her free hand for you to quickly join them. You stood to one side of the chair where both of them were accommodated, Yuqi had her eyes closed, but she noticed your presence by the shadow you generated. You didn't have time to process everything your eyes were seeing at that moment. Yuqi's small tits exposed, her pretty gasps, Soyeon fingering her pussy.

"The girls left a very short time ago..." Yuqi murmured with her eyes still closed as she enjoyed Soyeon's fingers in her pussy, "so this can only be one person."

"Hello there," you said, and Yuqi grinned before opening her eyes to see you.

"Will this finally be the day you can fuck me?" Soyeon started to move her wrist faster, pumping Yuqi's pussy, "all the time I envy Soyeon for having a guy like you's dick whenever she wants."

"We'll see about that, we'll do as the boss orders," you said, looking at Soyeon, who smiled.

"Well, the boss orders you to fuck her face, right now," Soyeon said, pulling her fingers out of Yuqi's pussy and straight into her mouth, causing her to taste her own fluids. Yuqi received Soyeon's fingers with pleasure, sucking them clean as she brought a hand to the bulge in your shorts, giving it little squeezes and massaging it until it was almost completely hard.

You quickly unbuttoned your shorts, and pulled them down to your ankles along with your boxers, releasing your cock just inches from Yuqi's face, who gaped happily in surprise.

"Fuck, I knew you had a big cock," Yuqi let out a small smile, taking your cock in one hand and stroking it slowly.

"And it's not even completely hard, go ahead and suck it," Soyeon said in Yuqi's ear, and she didn't hesitate for a second to lean forward and take the tip of your cock between her soft little lips. You gasped, and Yuqi soon took a few more inches inside her. She began to slowly suck half of your cock, purposely moaning so that your shaft would receive the vibrations. Your cock came to full hardness in a matter of seconds, and with that, Soyeon grabbed Yuqi by her hair and gently pulled her back.

"Stop right there, miss," Soyeon said, "open your mouth and stick out your tongue, I want to see that pretty face destroyed."

Yuqi obeyed Soyeon's order just as she asked, sticking out her tongue as much as she could while she stared into your eyes, waiting for you to put your cock inside there. You didn't make her wait too long, taking your manhood by the base and teasing her by rubbing your tip against her tongue a couple of times, seconds later, you finally slowly slid every inch of your length into her mouth, finding a barrier in her throat that prevented you from reaching the bottom.

You tried to push forward of her to reach her throat, but Yuqi's gag reflex made her cough and pull you out of her mouth.

"Fuck, it's too big," she said taking a long breath, "just try again," she opened her mouth again, and you slid your cock inside her again. You reached her limit once more, but this time she didn't flinch as her gag reflex jumped, she coughed against your cock, letting a large amount of saliva escape from the corner of her mouth, but just like that you could finally put your entire length inside, caressing her throat with the tip.

"Good job honey..." Soyeon complimented Yuqi, playing with her small tits between pinching and caressing her nipples. You muffled a moan against your pursed lips, and kept a hand on Yuqi's head as you began to pump your hips back and forth, slowly at first so she could get used to the feeling of deepthroating.

Your impatience didn't allow you to give her more than five minutes of warm-up, and as Soyeon continued to play with Yuqi's tits, you began to gradually increase the speed of your pumping faster than she could have expected. With each thrust you hit her throat harder, it soon got used to the sensation and let you fuck her without any impediment.

Despite showing almost no gag reflex anymore, you were fucking Yuqi's mouth so uncontrollably that your cock was completely drenched in her saliva, which also fell everywhere, especially on her creamy thighs and Soyeon hands. You grabbed a handful of Yuqi's hair tightly, and began to shake her head in coordination with your hip movements, Yuqi wrinkled her face, and in the midst of small moans she clung tightly to your hips, desperately seeking a break.

"Holy fucking god!" Yuqi exclaimed as you gave her the break she was asking for, her mouth connected to the tip of your cock by thick threads of saliva.

"I said the same thing in my mind the first time he fucked my face," Soyeon smirked, reaching a hand to your cock to drench her own hand in Yuqi's saliva, stroking quickly and finally giving your balls a light squeeze.

"No but, this thing is massive," Yuqi said, still reaching for her breath, taking your cock with both hands at the base and giving it a few more sucks, "I can't wait to feel it inside my warm pussy."

"Don't get him excited too early, honey," Soyeon stood up, leaving Yuqi alone in the pool chair, "let's have some fun with him first."

"I couldn't agree more," still sitting on the chair, Yuqi grabbed the strap of the knot from her bikini bottom and slowly pulled it undone. She lifted her hips, and removed her bikini bottom to toss it into the pool. Now all of her luscious body was uncovered, and your eyes went straight to her plump shaved pussy.

Seeing Yuqi hadn't let you realize that next to you Soyeon had also completely undressed, you were the only idiot who still had clothes on, but you soon changed that. You threw away your shorts and boxers, you took off your shoes, and finally you took off your black shirt to be on an equal footing with the two of them. As soon as that happened, Soyeon pulled you to sit next to Yuqi, who got up to stand next to Soyeon, leaving you now alone in the chair.

"If you're going to cum don't even bother telling us, I want it to be a surprise," Soyeon said after winking at you, and next to Yuqi, she knelt between your two spread legs. Soyeon was on the left, and Yuqi on the right.

Soyeon took your cock in her hand, and the two of them leaned forward to share a steamy, intense and sensual kiss with the tip of your cock right in the middle. You moaned out loud, putting both hands on their heads and gasping for air as you watched her tongues swirl around your throbbing cock.

They continued making out with your cock in the middle for a few long seconds, where they ran their tongues down each side of your shaft, towards your balls, and then met again at your tip. Soyeon took you inside her mouth, sucking your dick up and down frantically before giving way to Yuqi, who mirrored Soyeon's intensity by giving you a quick and disastrous blowjob.

While one kept your cock in her mouth, the other concentrated on complementing it with licks on your shaft and on your balls. You couldn't think straight at the time, unable to take in the fact that you were in Beverly Hills being brutally sucked off poolside by two women of that caliber, the you of a few weeks ago would have taken it as a joke, but there you were, with the California sun overhead as you received tons of pleasure.

"Soyeonie," Yuqi said, pulling you out of her mouth between ragged breaths, "I feel like doing something we haven't done in a long time."

"And what is that?" Soyeon asked, placing small kisses on her lips.

"We'll scissor with his cock in the middle," she smiled, glancing at you, "he'll probably love that."

"Oh I bet he will," Soyeon stood up and sat with you in the pool chair on your left, while Yuqi on the right. They positioned themselves facing you, and you leaned back so they could settle on your thighs. With both girls' asses now on your thighs, they moved their pelvises forward with their knees open and brought their pussies closer to either side of your cock. You stared, and when Soyeon and Yuqi made a sandwich with their pussy folds and your dick in the middle, you almost went crazy with pleasure.

You pursed your lips as the two of them pressed against your cock with their pussies, moving their hips up and down at different paces to make it more pleasurable for you. Your cock felt hot in the middle of their warm folds, also silky and extremely wet. They both teased with taking your tip inside their pussies, but in the end they only limited themselves to rubbing your entire length up and down between sensual moans.

"You like that huh?" Yuqi asked, leaning on both of her hands just like Soyeon as she moved her hips.

"Don't you see that he can't even talk?" Soyeon asked, biting her bottom lip, her gaze fixed on you, "I bet he's about to explode."

She wasn't too far off the mark. You had your eyes closed now, concentrating on the overstimulating sea of sensations that you were receiving from the waist down at that moment. You didn't know what the fuck or how they were doing it, but somehow they managed to make you squirm in the chair while your cock slid up and down between their pussies, and before long you exploded.

"Oh fuck yeah," Yuqi moaned, watching as your cock erupted with thick streams of cum that drenched both pussies equally. You writhed between moans, while the thick white liquid ran between your cock and their pussies.

"Just wait until you have that load inside you," Soyeon smiled, separating her pussy from your cock to take it in one hand and slowly stroke it up and down, while you still let out tiny droplets of liquid.

"Can I ride him first?" Yuqi asked, sitting down, rubbing her pussy that was drenched in your cum, "please tell me yes," she begged.

"Go ahead, I want to see you jumping on that dick anyway," Soyeon smiled, and Yuqi was on top of you in a matter of seconds, planting both feet on either side of your hips. She took your cock in one hand to straighten it, and no matter how sensitive you were or that her pussy was still drenched in cum, she impaled herself completely on you. You both moaned aloud as your cock slid smoothly and slowly into her wet pussy, drawing in a deep breath as her ass rested against your pelvis.

"Holy fucking sh-!" Yuqi immediately covered her mouth to keep from swearing, but her eyes squeezed shut, and when she removed her hand from her mouth, it was gaping, "how the hell doesn't this thing rip you in half?!" the question was directed at Soyeon, who had climbed up next to you and was on her knees, her face close to Yuqi's.

"Once you get used to it, it's fucking delicious," Soyeon kissed you for a few seconds, moaning against your mouth as you reached out to grab her ass, "now jump on that cock, you little bitch."

Soyeon gave a spicy spank to Yuqi's ass, Yuqi let out a little squeak, grabbed your shoulders and obediently began to move slowly up and down, taking your cock all the way in and out of her creamy pussy, which felt like a warm, silky cloud that squeezed your shaft from all directions.

Yuqi turned her face to the side of her, meeting directly with Soyeon's lips in a passionate and hot kiss that took all your attention. Your cock throbbed inside Yuqi's pussy due to the sensual scene, and Yuqi, feeling it, began to move faster, giving your pelvis the first crashes it was going to receive from her round ass.

Your previously still hands now went to Yuqi's ass, holding it while it bounced up and down against your cock. You gave her another spank, squeezing both wobbly cheeks together hard then plunging your mouth right onto her pretty little tits. Her nipples hardened inside your mouth, and you sucked, licked, and kissed as much as you could.

Yuqi removed her hand from one of your shoulders and used it to cling to Soyeon's neck from behind, muffling loud moans against her lips as she began to frantically bounce on your cock, causing a euphony of lewd sounds that had your inner flame on you ablaze.

"Fuck... I want to eat you," Yuqi said against Soyeon's lips, while she was still jumping on top of you, "and I want you to fuck me from behind," she said looking at you now, biting your lower lip.

"Let's go to the ground then, we don't have enough space here," Soyeon said, getting off her chair and going to lie down on the side of the pool, her back and her ass on the synthetic grass.

Yuqi got up from your cock and followed Soyeon, landing on her hands and knees with her face only inches from Soyeon's pussy. She didn't bother to wait for you, she just plunged her face into her drenched pussy and began to clean all the remaining cum from between her folds with her tongue.

Soyeon's moans were soon present when Yuqi's tongue began to work intensely on her pussy. You got down from the chair, and knelt behind Yuqi's magnificent upturned ass. You took your cock in one hand, and after rubbing your tip a couple of times between her wet folds, you slid with a single push to the bottom of her pussy.

Yuqi moaned against Soyeon's little pussy, who had her hand between the blonde strands of the girl you were fucking so hard her ass bounced in mesmerizing shock waves. One of her buttocks had a red mark in the shape of your hand, so you decided to leave one exactly the same on her other buttock, then grab onto her waist and pump hard in and out of her.

The blonde girl had already been stimulated in almost every way for a long time, so it didn't take long for her to reach her orgasm when you least expected it. Her entire body began to shake, and she pulled away from Soyeon's pussy so she could growl with all her might, her hands clinging to the synthetic grass in intense spasms.

You slowed down your pumping considerably, letting Yuqi's orgasm pass to pull your cock out of her pussy. Yuqi kept moaning, her face resting against Soyeon's lower abdomen.

"Shit... what the fuck was that," she gasped, her eyes slightly teary, "I've never felt a cock like that in my life."

"Don't get too used to it either," Soyeon said, caressing her hair, which was still tied in a nearly undone bun, "that cock is all mine."

"Come ride this cock then, bitch," you taunted Soyeon, sitting on the grass with your hands resting behind you and your legs spread out.

Soyeon took the teasing as a challenge, and she carefully broke away from Yuqi (who stayed lying on the grass to watch the two of you) to crawl towards you, climbing onto your lap with her thighs braced on either side of your hips and take your cock already lubricated with Yuqi's fluids inside her tight pussy.

You wrapped your arms around Soyeon's petite frame and let her begin to move up and down your cock, riding you slow and sensual at first as she searched for your lips to kiss between moans filled with mutual desire.

Your hands went to her wide hips, holding your fingers there for a few seconds before moving to her ass, as smooth and tight as ever. You squeezed and spanked it with both hands, and Soyeon moaned into your mouth, tangling her slender fingers in the strands of your hair and pulling slightly as she took your cock in and out completely.

Soyeon pushed you, and your back was flat against the warm grass. The intense Californian sun blinded you for a few seconds, but Soyeon's raven hair together with her face soon served as an awning for you. Her small tits pressed against your chest, and her face sank into your neck to nibble, suck, and kiss as she planted her feet on the grass on either side of your hips and began to bounce hard up and down.

Her body was small and skinny, but you were always impressed with how hard she could fuck sometimes, and this was one of those times, it was like the sun was giving her enough energy to almost break you in half with every bounce of her ass against you.

After having left your neck full of teeth marks and slight hickeys, she returned to your mouth, drowning out the intense moans that were a warning that she was soon about to explode. Her already tight pussy smothered your cock from all directions, the sensation making you moan along with her, and within seconds you both came at the same time.

Soyeon grabbed both of her hands around your neck, squeezing it tight as she bounced slower, but also harder and more aggressively against your cock, which shot thick streams of cum into her throbbing pussy. You couldn't help but moan out loud, psychologically and sensorially overstimulated, your first instinct was also to grab Soyeon by the neck, and since your strength was superior to hers, the grip of your fingers around her neck made her loosen your neck

She moaned and writhed, unable to breathe properly due to the pair of hands she had clamped on her slender neck. Your cum was starting to spill around your cock, staining it all over and leaving her pussy extremely creamy and slippery. When your orgasms had passed you let go of her neck, and she collapsed forward with very heavy breathing. You felt that she was going to pass out, but with the seconds she was relaxing.

"Damn, you guys fuck hard don't you?" you heard Yuqi ask behind you, you peeked over the side of Soyeon's body, seeing her lying on her side with her legs crossed and resting on her elbow.

"Ask Minnie," you said, placing a hand on Soyeon's lower back as she recovered.

"No need, she already told me," Soyeon, who was still catching her breath, raised her head to look at you with a raised eyebrow, and you returned the same look, "Hey, how about we go to a bedroom?" asked the blonde girl, "Getting a tan wasn't on my mind today."

"Can you get up, honey?" you asked Soyeon, and she nodded.

"You'll have to carry me over there," she said, sitting up with your cock still inside her. She lifted her hips slowly, pulling you out of her with a little 'pop'. The cum immediately spilled over your lower abdomen and your cock, an opportunity that Yuqi did not miss to clean both you and Soyeon. She first used her tongue to clean the pool of liquid on your abdomen, then she sucked you for a few seconds until your cock was shiny, and then she ate Soyeon's pussy until her folds were completely clean.

"Come on, stand up," Yuqi said after feasting on your load, "I haven't enjoyed this cock enough yet."

You used all the strength of your legs and your lower body to get up with Soyeon in your arms, all to be able to put her down and pick her up again, but this time on your right shoulder, holding her by the thighs. This done, you gestured with your eyes to Yuqi to go forward. She started walking into the house, and you followed her from behind.

You noticed that the house had quite a few bedrooms, but you chose one on the top floor, the one with a direct view of the pool and the rest of Beverly Hills. You were all alone in the house, so you didn't even bother to close the door when you came in. It was also not necessary to turn on the lights in the bedroom, enough natural light entered to illuminate every corner of the room without much complication. In that bedroom there were already open suitcases and messy clothes here and there, so you guessed that it was Yuqi and someone else's room. Who? You didn't know, but the panties you were seeing were definitely not Soyeon's or Minnie's.

You left Soyeon face up on one of the beds, and immediately your gaze focused on Yuqi, who you were sure saw you in the same way that you were seeing her, dying to continue tasting every corner of that thick body. She walked towards you, and brought a hand to your cock to stroke it slowly, crashing her lips against yours in a slow and sensual kiss, meanwhile, out of the corner of your eye you could see how Soyeon put a hand between her open legs and began to touch herself very vaguely.

Yuqi knew your cock must still be a bit sensitive, so she was as gentle as she could as she returned it to its full hardness. On the other hand, your hands went through every corner of her body to feel the delicious meat that made it up under your fingers, you were obsessed with her tummy and her waist, but all your attention was focused on her magnificent ass, which you squeezed hard to making Yuqi moan against your lips and have her body press against yours.

"I want to eat your pussy so bad…" you murmured against her lips. She was playing with your balls, "would you grant me that honor?"

"The honor of having that tongue in my pussy would be mine," her hand returned to your cock, this time she was stroking it slightly faster.

"I know a way you can suck my cock while I do it..."

"It just so happens that me too," she giggled, "go ahead, pretty boy."

You separated from her and went to sit on the edge of the bed where Soyeon was lying. You laid your back on the soft mattress, and Yuqi climbed on the bed to later climb on top of you. She straddled your abdomen with her back to you, and moved slowly until her thighs were on either side of your head and hers were her pretty pussy inches from your mouth. Yuqi flopped forward, her small tits pressed against your lower abdomen, and as she took your cock into her mouth, you wrapped your arms around her waist to make her hips drop, and therefore, make your nose and your mouth will be buried between her buttocks.

The first taste you had of her pussy drove you crazy almost immediately, so in no time you were eating her mouthwateringly, using your tongue to stimulate every corner of her slit to the best of your ability. Yuqi moaned around your shaft, and began to pump her head up and down, making wet noises and holding on to your thighs.

Her ass squashed against your face felt like a soft cotton quilt, shaky and still red from your spanks earlier. Both of her buttocks were once again massaged and squeezed by you, this time spreading them apart in order to have better access to her slit. Yuqi moaned louder around your cock, and she gave you a deep throat that took your breath away for a few seconds, apparently she already knew what she was capable of.

She took you out of her mouth for a moment, to spit all the saliva accumulated against your cock and jerk you off quickly, seconds later, to wrap her lips around your shaft again and pump her head frantically. You took your tongue as deep as possible inside her pussy, stimulating her pussy walls and then quickly licking between her folds, also touching her clit along the way.

At a certain moment the light bulb went on with an idea that you were sure that Soyeon, who was fingering herself while you ate each other, was going to love. You clung tightly to Yuqi's body with your arms, and using all the strength in your legs (with some instinctive help from Yuqi), you stood up with Yuqi still clinging to your body and her mouth on your cock, making a standing 69.

“Holy shit…” Soyeon said out loud, expressing her astonishment but also moaning at the hot scene before her eyes. Yuqi clung to your neck with her strong thighs, testing the stamina of your muscles as you felt as if you were being constricted by a reticulated python. Your arms also clung around her body, and you kept eating her pussy like a hungry dog while she choked on your cock. You stayed in that position for at least a minute until Soyeon threw a pillow at you, "stop, I want her to do that with me."

"And what do I get in return?" you asked, kissing Yuqi's thighs.

"You can do what you want with us anyway," she replied, "now bring her to me," she ordered, and you had no choice but to obey.

You lay back on the bed, and Yuqi pulled you out of her mouth to get off of you. She grabbed a pillow and positioned herself on her back horizontally to the bed, Soyeon climbed on top of her, and as soon as she left her ass floating above Yuqi's face, she caught her with her arms and pressed their bodies together, both of them faces now buried in each other's pussy.

You dedicated yourself to just watching how they did her own 69, Yuqi clinging to Soyeon's small waist while she held the blonde girl by her thighs, lifting them up and spreading her legs wide to have better access to her pussy. They both looked completely committed to making the other moan as loud as possible, Soyeon was even using two of her fingers to finger Yuqi while the tip of her tongue was focused on her clit. Yuqi was also using her salivated fingers, but not to finger her pussy, but her butthole, which gave in very easily to her fingers and let them slide in and out like nothing.

Seeing that made you want to get in on the action, so you got to your knees between Yuqi's spread legs and in front of Soyeon's twisted face. You had been giving Yuqi quite a bit of attention for the past few minutes, which is why the first thing you did was take your throbbing cock in one hand, Soyeon's head in the other, and guide your shaft directly into her mouth and straight to her throat.

Not being ready for it, Soyeon choked on your cock at first, coughing a few times against it and making a mess of saliva between your shaft and Yuqi's pussy. You didn't come out of her mouth, instead, you let her find a way to catch her breath before starting to fuck her mouth mercilessly.

You grabbed two fistfuls of Soyeon's hair with both of your hands, pulling her head towards your cock and using her mouth as a puny sex doll. Yuqi kept eating her pussy, and now she had her hands on each of her buttocks to squeeze them hard. Soyeon moaned and writhed like crazy because of her pleasure, and lots of saliva kept spilling from her mouth, landing directly on Yuqi's pussy, which already looked too tempting for you.

A few seconds passed when you took your cock out of Soyeon's mouth and took it directly to Yuqi's pussy, sliding inside her with just a simple movement of your hips. You heard how the blonde girl separated from Soyeon's pussy, letting out a loud moan of satisfaction as she felt you deep inside her wet pussy again.

"That's honey, take all that juicy cock," Soyeon moaned, licking Yuqi's clit as you placed your hands on her milky thighs and began fucking her just as hard as Soyeon's mouth.

Just like Soyeon a few minutes ago, Yuqi was squirming under her body with her hands on Soyeon's waist, her nails digging into her flesh with such force that it looked like it was going to draw blood from her. That didn't stop you from continuing to pump in and out of her, completely ecstatic at how soft her plump pussy felt inside.

You pulled your cock out of Yuqi's pussy, and once again took it inside Soyeon's mouth, to frantically fuck her throat. Your hand went to her hair to pull it back, but you used the other to slap her hard as her mouth was a complete mess of saliva and tears falling from her eyes. She looked at you with weak but defiant eyes, inviting you to give her another slap, and so you did, another slap right to her cheek, causing several strands of her hair to stick to her sweaty face.

Not a minute passed when you returned once more to Yuqi's pussy, but this time you wouldn't last too long, because a few strong pounds against her pussy were enough for Yuqi to explode for the second time that day, screaming against Soyeon's pussy and desperately searching something to break so she could channel all the energy her orgasm was hitting her with. She found nothing, and all she did was pull the sheet off the edges of the bed after crumpling and pulling it.

"She cums way harder than Minnie, holy fuck," you gasped, looking over at Soyeon, who just grinned looking over her shoulder at Yuqi.

"Forget about her for a second and fuck my ass, right now, I'm close," Soyeon commanded, strands of her hair still clinging to her forehead.

You moved to the side of them and grabbed Soyeon around her waist to pull her off of Yuqi (who was staring blankly as she tried to take in what had happened) and face down against the mattress. You braced both of your legs on either side of her hips, and slid the tip of your cock between her buttocks a few times before finding her butthole and driving your cock deep inside.

Soyeon moaned loudly, and clung to the already wrinkled sheets as you pinned her against the bed with all the weight of your body. You left your hands fisted against the mattress on either side of Soyeon's head, and began to move up and down with the sole objective of pounding the girl below you so hard that she couldn't walk properly for the rest of the day.

The sound of your pelvis crashing against her wide ass resounded loudly throughout the silent house, as did Soyeon's desperate shrieks as you knocked the air out of her with each thrust. One of your hands went to the nape of her neck, supporting all your weight on it to keep her head glued to the mattress. It was like that for a few seconds, until you directly grabbed her hair carelessly to leave her cheek pressed down.

You spent a few long seconds fucking her face down, hammering her tight butthole until you wanted to change her position, and without getting out of her, you manipulated her like a rag doll and turned her on her side with her legs drawn up. From that position you could see her face completely destroyed and sweaty, but also full of lust and desire. You started moving again, pumping furiously in and out of her to lean forward, spit in her face, then slap her hard again. Soyeon growled, incredibly turned on by how rudely and roughly you were treating her.

You clung to her waist, and she clung to your forearm. Tears were coming out of her eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to leave her completely destroyed in every possible way, a sign of this were your clenched teeth, or the thick drop of sweat that ran down the side of your face, always present every time you and Soyeon fucked like animals.

Soyeon's neck was once again adorned by a pretty hand-shaped necklace, your fingers clinging around it and cutting off her breath as you delivered what would be the last thrusts before she exploded. You had already made her cum this strong, violent and good, but this was the first time that she let out a stream of squirt when you fucked her ass. The fluid stained your legs, and she completely drenched the mattress beneath you as she jerked and trembled as if she were demonically possessed. She wanted to moan and scream, but the hand on her neck wouldn't let her.

You let her relax patiently, moving your hips very slowly in and out of her butthole, which you could appreciate how incredibly dilated you had left seconds after you had pulled out of her.

"You guys scare me… you fuck like wild animals," Yuqi sighed, who was prone lying on her own forearms, feet moving separately in the air.

"And I'm not even done with both of you, cutie," you winked at her, leaving Soyeon for a moment to get on top of Yuqi, pressing your cock against her buttocks, grabbing her by the neck and pulling her head back so that your lips will meet.

You two made out for a few long seconds, in which she moved her wide hips and her ass up to rub against your cock. She was looking for just one thing, and you certainly weren't going to deny her that, but first you played with her a bit, using your free hand to play with her nipples, you pinched them for a moment, and then you moved the same hand to get it under her body, reaching her pussy and gently rubbing her folds with your index and middle fingers.

Yuqi moaned tenderly against your lips, and she reached back with one hand to cup your cock and stroke it slowly. You pleasured each other that way for much longer than you planned, her pussy felt so good in your fingers, as did her soft hand wrapped around your throbbing cock, eager to spill another thick load.

"Jeez, fuck me already, please," Yuqi moaned, taking your cock between her buttocks and rubbing it against her slit. You kissed her again, and satisfied her carnal desires by taking your cock for the third time inside her pussy. Yuqi's body shuddered, and her muffled moan against your lips let you know that from that position you were hitting a sensitive spot for her.

You began to slowly move your hips up and down, fucking her in a careful and sensual way, seeking to touch that sensitive spot with each of your pumps. It was certainly working, Yuqi was holding both of your forearms tightly, and her breathing was already rough. She helped you to caress inside her, moving her ass up every time you pushed down. You moaned against each other's lips, filled with pleasure and submerged in your lust.

"Hey, fuck both of us… I want to do something," Yuqi begged between moans, looking at Soyeon face down like her.

Soyeon next to you was face down with one leg up, staring at you and completely still, without saying a single word or moving a single muscle. She was scary sometimes, and this was one of those times when you'd rather do everything you could to not make her even scarier. You had bad experiences seeing her upset.

"Get on top of her then, go," you said in Yuqi's ear, and she nodded. You came out of her, and she got up to lie on her stomach right on top of Soyeon, who didn't complain knowing what you two had in mind.

You knelt between their legs, your cock pointing right between the two pussies stacked on top of each other. You were forced to choose, but while you thought about your choice you dedicated yourself to touching both pussies separately, Soyeon's first, taking two fingers inside her and pumping them slowly, while bending your back to eat Yuqi's pussy.

The symphony of groans began, and with it the inspiration came to you. You reversed her roles, but since you couldn't reach Soyeon's pussy with your mouth, you used your other hand to rub her clit while the one with your fingers inside her was Yuqi. That's when you made your choice, taking your cock and taking it inside Soyeon's pussy.

You started fucking Soyeon as fast as that position would allow, continuing to give Yuqi the attention she deserved from her, using your hands to massage her buttocks and finger her pussy to soften her up, getting her ready for her turn. The two of them were sharing a kiss right in front of you, and Yuqi brought a hand under Soyeon's body to quickly rub her clit as your cock pumped in and out of her pussy. The three of you moaned in different tones and levels, Soyeon being the loudest but being partly silenced by Yuqi's lips.

After a few seconds you quickly made the switch, now bringing your cock inside Yuqi, who broke away from Soyeon's lips only to let out a primal growl of pure pleasure. You gave one of her milky buttocks a hard spank, rekindling the bright red mark in the shape of your hand that was already fading. You repeated with her other buttock, and now her ass was burning red hot right before your eyes.

Yuqi kept rubbing Soyeon's pussy, so you didn't need to focus too much on pleasuring her as well, since your job was being facilitated, you just dedicated yourself to fucking her hard, holding onto her ass with one hand as you watched them making out between desperate moans.

You switched between pussies again, this time going back to Soyeon's, which you noticed was already tighter and tenser than normal, a sign that her orgasm was near. You spat on Yuqi's pussy, and pumped your fingers in and out of it again while hammering Soyeon's little pussy.

You knew your girl pretty well, and you weren't wrong when you thought her orgasm was just around the corner.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck FUCK!!!" she finally screamed breaking free of Yuqi's lips before exploding with another intense stream of squirt, which this time not only stained your legs but also part of Yuqi's crotch and pussy.

"Holy mother, woman," Yuqi gasped, pinning her under her body as she writhed and shrieked.

As soon as Soyeon's orgasm passed you focused one last time on Yuqi, taking your cock inside her with a single thrust and pounding her pussy as hard as you could, even planting your feet on either side of them for a better angle and moving faster. From there your hand reached her blonde hair already completely loose from her to grab a handful and yank it back violently. A few pushes were enough to make her cum too.

Yuqi didn't cum as hard or as violently as Soyeon, but you were sure that she was enjoying that orgasm as much as the previous two, besides, you had been hitting her sensitive spot at all times, a factor that contributed to her pussy dripping with fluids very slightly.

"What was it you wanted to do?" you asked Yuqi, slowly pumping your cock in and out of her throbbing pussy.

"I want you to come in our faces to give Minnie a little surprise," she asked, and you raised an eyebrow, suspicious but not complaining about being complicit in it.

You came out inside her and Yuqi automatically got off Soyeon to her back, Soyeon was still unable to move properly, so you had to help her to her back as well. Now with both girls on their backs, with their faces next to each other, you knelt in front of their heads and began masturbating just above them. Yuqi and Soyeon stuck out their tongues, and Soyeon put a hand to your balls to squeeze as you soon reached your peak.

Long minutes of holding your load resulted in an intense eruption of cum coming straight from inside your cock. You moaned loudly, quickly stroking your cock while shooting thick streams of cum on both faces, painting every corner of them, their foreheads, their noses, their tongues and even their chins. Both pretty faces were completely smeared with white like an abstract painting.

"You want me to take a picture of you, right?" You gasped, catching your breath and stopping stroking your cock since your balls were already emptied.

"Actually I want to do it myself, would you be so kind as to pass me my phone?" Yuqi asked, "It's the one with the black case with white puppies."

"Whatever you say," you sighed, standing up and looking everywhere for the damn phone, it turned out to be in the window frame that overlooked the pool, "what the hell is it doing here? It could fall."

"Don't ask and give it to me," she said, and you rolled your eyes, handing it over.

Yuqi entered the front camera, and as if it were a photocard, both of them posed for a perfectly beautiful and functional selfie, except for the detail that they were completely covered with your cum. You also saw how she entered Minnie's chat and sent her the picture.

That's when you heard footsteps in the hallway, they were too quick to react to it, so the three of you stood completely still when Miyeon entered the room, apparently not noticing you as she had entered with her eyes on her phone and then looked for something in her suitcase. You stay completely silent, hoping that just as she walked in with no idea what was going on, she could leave, but you weren't so lucky.

"AHHHHHHH!" she squealed rather loudly, bringing both of her hands up to cover her mouth. Her eyes were wide open, observing the three naked bodies just a few meters from her. Between all the hustle and bustle you had not heard either of the two doors open, neither the main gate nor the door of the house. The princess had caught you in the act, and she had already seen your cock.

You noticed how her cheeks turned bright red like her whole face, she was stunned, and she only took a few steps back until she ran out of the bedroom.

Yuqi, Soyeon and you burst into laughter.

———————————————————————

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msafterhours · 26 days

Text

Saccharine | Act One

Male Reader x (G)I-DLE Yuqi

Act 1 (~14.5k words) [Act 2] [Act 3]

Song Yuqi (sôNG yo͞o·kē)

media darling.

an unforgettable dream, stealing fan’s hearts with silky smooth singing and sugary sweet smiles.

an idol’s ideal, image unblemished by a single hint, word, or leak implying otherwise.

absolutely spotless.

nothing messy, nothing toxic, nothing wrong with her in the slightest—

What a load of shit.

They say truth is stranger than fiction, but no story from either source could have prepared you for the things you’ve seen over your few months in this industry. Most who put pen to paper from an early age don’t dream of writing news updates, opinion pieces, or reviews for a K-Pop news site, but you’re not the type to pass up any half-decent opportunity. You’ve learned from your father, who brought this family here before you could read in pursuit of a better life than he could find in the U.S. Thus, when a family friend started up this new business and offered you a job despite your lack of experience, the thought of turning it down never even crossed your mind.

You know full well the life you’ve chosen to enter, with the lies and cover-ups and entire careers that get ruined because they didn’t smile at the right sleazy fuck. You’ve adapted fast, steeling your heart and refusing to let it bother you; after all, rules are allegedly meant to be followed. Thus, you’re happy to play their game, so long as it means you’re learning about the lone aspect that captivates you: the power of leverage. You've heard how one call from an executive can change someone’s life or how the demands of fans manifest change, but it's another thing entirely to see the human reactions behind every ripple in this pond. While you'd love to have the best seats in the house to observe from, you’re well aware of what rung you’re on—painfully aware of how low that rung sits. And as much as you’d love to catch a flight to the top, the skies remain clear. You’ll just have to grit your teeth and climb.

As you work, beginning your ascent, you hear stories. Gossip, whispers in passing, those sorts of things—things that provide context and give you power over someone. You’re constantly attuned to them, writing them down and using your contraband knowledge as bargaining power when securing opportunities. A more honest you might view your methods as underhanded, but this you knows that they’re effective. So, you keep your ears perked and remain vigilant.

Things change when you start hearing the rumors about her: some pre-debut idol who’s too small in stature and reputation to talk the way she does but too egotistical and narcissistic to act otherwise. At first glance, they’re anything but surprising and, more damningly, they’re far from fascinating, so why sidetrack yourself by investigating them? Especially since you know that in this industry, the path to the top is paved by the broken hearts of good people and tread by those willing to crush them under heel.

Then another wave of whispers reaches your ears—this second ripple even passing through some circles of importance—so you do what you do best. You start some conversations, get your contacts laughing before asking them questions—the types they won't even remember answering. Ultimately, it’s a win-win; they get to hear the sound of their own voice and you get the information you need; information that you’re more than happy to save for a rainy day.

It’s not long before you make a promise you don’t intend to keep and secure a favor from one of those contacts. You’re eager to cash in, securing an interview with one of their clients in mainland China and starting off the new year right. With an opportunity like this, you’d be a fool not to go, rumors or otherwise. That being said, there’s no reason you can’t keep an ear to the ground; a trip like this can have more than one purpose. Maybe you’ll even find a sliver of that truth people claim to tell.

The flight’s fine, the weather’s bad, and the place you’re staying is even worse, but hey, at least the food’s bearable. The night's young, so are you, and so is your career. There'll be plenty of time for penthouse hot tub parties later. For now, as the storm outside your window creates a percussive backdrop to your nightly preparations, you settle down early. You allow the night to overtake you well before your usual late hour, hoping that a rested mind will serve you well as you grab your metaphorical pickaxe and head into a potential gold mine of information tomorrow.

You dream not of the moisture outside, but of a complete lack thereof. Your dreams enthrall you with heat, flames, and intoxicating agony. With every step forward, you feel the blaze consume more of your essence, but the ecstasy that fills the void drives you ever onward. You're eager to relish the pain, letting it fuel you just as much as the pleasure as you force yourself closer. You nearly make it to the center of the inferno—getting maddeningly close to witnessing its heart—but your screams of frustration break off as your vision burns away, leaving you staring instead at the first hints of sunrise filtering into your shoddy hotel room.

Once you finish capping off this unique experience with a final, frustrated scream, you ready yourself, allowing your morning to pass by in a blink before you arrive at the talent agency. You imitate a warm smile flawlessly, tapping into some of the residual heat within as you carry a friendly conversation with the receptionist while she confirms your interview appointment.

After a quick, silent elevator ride spent rehearsing the questions you’d prepared, the bell chimes and doors part to reveal your destination. As always, you’re early to being early, allowing plenty of time to chat with the makeup artist and peruse her memories for potential ammunition. You place an attentive nod amidst one of her stories, gently touch her arm as you pretend her joke is hilarious, and allow your gleaming smile to keep the conversation lively as you perform the unspoken, crucial responsibilities your job demands of you. While her tales of past encounters barely satiate your desires, her reaction to the sudden outburst in the next room over is another gift entirely.

You can see it in how her shoulders suddenly slump, how her eyes roll with a practiced grace, and how the sigh escapes unprompted. She deflates, and you immediately ascertain that this is far from the first occurrence of its kind. She meets your gaze, and you understand that it won’t be the last. You’ve seen no face nor heard a name, but you know. It’s her.

The malice dripping off her words is matched only by the malevolence in the deep tone of her voice as it quickly grows in both pitch and volume. Her tirade berates not only the hapless victim trapped in the room with her, but also the irreparably damaged ears of every bystander in the vicinity. Even for you, someone seemingly numb to the ever-present abuse within the industry, time slows to a crawl as her verbal onslaught continues for a minute, then three, then ten.

All the while, you know full well your companion is on the verge of exploding with anticipation, wordlessly begging for you to ask what’s going on. So, when a malnourished conscience or guardian angel or maybe just a need for oxygen leads to silence, you oblige. No reason that your pursuits can’t be mutually beneficial. You wrap your words in sympathy as you whisper, wide-eyed and horrified, “Who is she?”

And as the floodgates open and the stylist tells you of the monster known as Song Yuqi, for the first time in a long time, you have to fight to keep the smile off your face rather than having to maintain the joyful facade. But that struggle quickly fades as your moment of wonderful discovery is replaced by genuine, sympathetic horror. Because she isn’t as bad as the rumors or this latest eruption made her out to be. She’s somehow worse.

And it’s not the verbal outbursts nor the sense of entitlement that makes your lip curl. No, it’s the facade she wears so well when she walks on stage. It’s the soft smile shining brightest under the spotlight’s glow. It’s who she is in the dark—who she becomes when untethered from the ramifications of her actions. It’s the diametric opposition between fact and fiction. And the worst part is, her arrogant swagger is justified. You can do nothing about it.

Yet.

The makeup artist’s story ends—as all must—and the clock mercilessly demands that you fulfill your obligations. You bid your companion farewell, surprising yourself with a rare display of kindness as you write down her name and genuinely tell her you hope to see her again someday. The distance to your destination is short; the journey is long. Each step punctuates another sentence, another line amidst the vast chronicle of misdeeds you’re currently composing. Your hands ache with a storyteller’s strain, but you bite back your desires and let the flames simmer down. It’s time to be a professional.

Your interviews tend to go well, especially whenever you control the conversation and ask the type of questions fans pretend to hate but secretly love. But whether it’s something in the water or your mind still reeling from the day’s earlier revelations, you discard the typical formula and enter the room without an agenda in mind. A pair of introductions are made, you compliment her new hair color, and she thanks you for coming all this way to conduct the interview. It’s polite and sterile and quaint—just like all the other interviews she’s done. But when you pull a pair of chairs over to the glass wall and offer her a seat with a view of Beijing, that piques her interest. And once you both sit down and get comfortable, you pull out no notebook or laptop, instead beginning an audio recording on your phone, you heighten her curiosity even further. Finally, when you begin the interview by inviting her to ask any question about you, she’s completely captivated. And you’re just as riveted as you listen to her response.

If a normal interview is a highway—carefully planned and constructed to fulfill a particular purpose—today’s is a river, naturally forming and freely flowing towards its destination. While you’re able to ask her some questions about her time on Produce 101 and her recent re-debut, you also both stray from the intended topic repeatedly, sharing tangents and truths and things you’ll never get to include. All of it should irritate you, but you know full well you’re far too invested to care. You can see how she matches your focus, see it in the way she leans closer—in the way she laughs openly and freely, unafraid of displaying her enjoyment. She sees the same, sees it in the way you join her laughter just as easily and how you intently hold her gaze as you weave a dialogue together with her. For the first time in as long as you can remember, words with meaning are spoken.

The sands of time flow far too swiftly, denying you further opportunity as your time together nears its end. You watch, noting how her eyes fall slightly at the top of the hour; you listen, ears perking up at the honesty in her hopes that you’ll see each other again. You respond, mirroring her sentiment and bidding her a fond farewell; you exit, leaving the room and finding yourself alone with only a recording and your memories to keep you company.

You know—even before listening back to the recording and transcribing her tales—that it truly is something special, something truly memorable. And it terrifies you. Because here, alone in the silence, you feel. A sensation of impending ruination creeps up your spine and shadows you through every twist and turn of this concrete labyrinth.

The vulnerability in memorability. The expectations and ramifications. The thought of seeing her again. The thought of meeting her. It all circulates through your mind, suffocating any further notions as you carefully reconstruct each particular piece of your professional persona. As the elevator descends to your level, you ponder the potential significance of this day. There’s so much to parse through, yet you’re unable to draw even a single conclusion. Perhaps later, you think as you enter the elevator. For now, you have work to do.

-x-

One step. Another. A door. A shudder. The individual pulls their jacket tight against their body, then pushes the heavy glass door open and steps out into the unforgiving Beijing winter. The wind whips through their hair, mercilessly battering their features as they exit the lobby. Many steps are taken, progressing through the journey until a turn is made. Then, a pause. Another turn, back towards the building. Their eyes climb, methodically, one floor at a time, impossibly high until they reach the top. An instant later, they’re back at ground level. Inhaling takes only a moment. Exhaling takes millennia. Their perspective drops further, to the pavement below. Another gust buffets the figure, and a sense of self-preservation sends them begrudgingly back along their way. It’s time for them to pack their things and go. The plane to Korea awaits.

-x-

You've always laughed at the idea that nothing good happens after midnight. As a seasoned writer and chronic procrastinator, you’ve thrived under the pressure of a morning deadline. Yet here you are, months later, staring at a bright screen in a dark room hours before the sun will give life to this particular Friday, agonizing over the task that you’ve been given.

Six names sit on the page in front of you. All of them “should” matter. One of them does. A fresh group has entered the arena, and their debut is as clean as their name is ridiculous. Your fingers fly across the keyboard, each pixel darkening your screen further as you sing stanza after stanza of praises. But instead of thinking of chord progressions or vocal harmonies, your focus lies solely on silence. Not the one you find yourself in now, but the one after her tirade. The one that’s remained in your mind long after your interview had ended; the one that threatened to betray the pounding hearts of every potential victim in the vicinity.

Five sections are completed, each giving well-earned praise to a deserving individual and highlighting their participation in the finished product. But that's not where your eyes fall, where the blinking cursor awaits. No, the subject of your ire is the final section, where your notes contain a few perfectly legitimate reasons to commend her contributions. A superbly safe option … if you choose to take it. But truth be told, you don’t want to. Admittedly, it’s not for the sake of her victims; you’ve never been one willing to take risks for something as worthless as the wellbeing of others. Your mind just can’t seem to disentangle itself from the fact that mere months later, she’s shining under Korea’s brightest lights. Part of you knows that it’s more petty than principled, but you honestly can’t stand the harsh reality of her getting to play by a different rulebook. So, the cursor blinks on.

Four hours remain, and you remain completely unsure of what to do. You’re stuck grasping at straws, knowing what you’d like to say, but treasuring your personal journey far too much to allow something as trivial as the truth to derail it all. You rack your mind, desperately attempting to find a compromise. Eventually, you wonder if perhaps a statement through omission rather than an overt declaration is the correct approach. It’s a risky idea, but one with great potential, especially in the name of generating clicks via controversy. Fuck it, you think to yourself. It’s worth an attempt. You crack your knuckles, lean forward in your chair, and spin gold.

Three members are chosen, highlighted above the rest for one reason or another. The justifications you give are borderline ostentatious, almost comically complimentary towards the contributions of your chosen trio. Somewhere along the way, a sense of confidence grows within you. Your decayed conscience is an entirely different story.

Two others—their praises already penned—are cast aside; forgotten and discarded in an effort to hide your disdain for their coworker and her offenses. Punished for no fault of their own. The notion would make you sick if it weren’t so damned common. At least you can find solace in the fact that you’re giving her exactly as much praise as she deserves.

One email containing your finished article is all that’s sent. Later today, the fuse will run out and your editor will be confronted by the landmine you’ve so kindly delivered to his inbox. But that’s alright. It is—quite literally—his job to deal with it.

Zero sounds pierce the stillness that permeates every nook and cranny of your apartment. Your breath halts, preserving this moment of tranquility within the ever-beating heart of the nation.

A moment passes.

Another.

The sigh that slips out is unintended, but not unexpected. It’s a deep, dejected exhalation that almost makes you wonder which decision drove you to become such fast friends with 4AM. Alas, the conclusions gleaned from that line of thinking can be drawn another day. Right now, you need coffee. It’s going to be a long day. You can only hope it won’t be an even longer night.

That night, you dream. You burn. You squint through the mess of tears protecting your eyes, trying hopelessly to catch even a glimpse of what lies at the heart of the inferno. Each tendril of flame lashes away at your essence, fracturing it into minute fragments as you endeavor to comprehend the importance of this dream and its sudden return after months of darkness. The experience seems to encompass merely a minute of enormous effort, but reality says otherwise as your alarm ruthlessly rouses you from your slumber and into the awaiting morning.

You’re covered in sweat and frustrated as hell, but that’s nothing that a shower hotter than your dream can’t fix. All throughout your morning routine, you make a conscious effort to avoid your phone. Even on a day like this, on a Saturday where most people are enjoying their weekend, you know that there’s no such thing as “off-the-clock” for you. No, on the other side of the glass screen, the ramifications of your actions—a night’s worth of reactions—await you.

The biggest departure from previous generations of written media is, in your opinion, the immediacy and accessibility of reader feedback. So, when you open a certain bird-themed app to see how people responded to your review of (G)I-DLE’s debut, you see some love. You see plenty of hate. You see … not much in between. K-Pop stans do tend towards hyperbole. Unsurprisingly, your decision to only highlight half the members is the primary subject of their ire. The comments are honestly hilarious, with many demanding an edit, others promising to block you, and one particularly invested individual threatening to revoke your access to the English language.

Might as well toss them a pacifier.

You tweet some apologetic bullshit about how you believed that highlighting all the members would diminish the significance of those who you felt contributed the most, expressing regret that the decision might have conveyed a message that you didn’t believe that all the members brought value to the debut. It’s a lovely set of lies, masking your true intentions with no plans for change. Fortunately, your sickly-sweet words and promise to include other members in future reviews seem to calm the upswell of commenters, at least for now.

And it keeps working. Once. Twice. A third time, even as (G)I-DLE nearly sweeps the “Rookie of the Year” award circuit. Then again, for a fourth time. A fifth. A sixth. Somehow, you get lucky seven times in a row. Somewhere along the path, you’re pretty sure you “should” stop this petty pursuit and play it safe. You don’t. A little further along, you realize you “definitely should” stop and realize what about her makes you feel this way.

You don’t.

There’ll be time for that later. For now, you follow the numbers forward. Along the way, among the complimentary feedback and tearful declarations of love for the group that frequent your comment sections, a slowly growing number of fans begin to notice and call you out for not including her. It adds credence to the argument for stopping, but luckily, they’re lost amongst the sea of engagement, so your growth continues unimpeded.

What isn’t lost to the passage of time are the whispers that continue to reach you, even when she retreats across the pond. The ripples reach you in rapid succession—usually a string of two or more instances where cracks start to show and her unbridled fury bursts forth, burning anyone who dares to get too close. You do your research, but you don’t have to dig very deep to unearth some terrifying truths. One cameraman is more than happy to tell you of the time he saw her punch one of the audio techs because her mic pack short circuited in the rain. A stylist shares a story of her ripping an outfit in half because it was too constrictive. A cup of coffee’s all it takes to convince one Cube employee to expose the eggshells they have to walk on around her and their internal guidelines for how to avoid her bad side. Without even trying, you amass a treasure trove of tales, just waiting to be told to someone who will listen. But you wait, because you know it’s not your time; because you know that you’re building something far too important to risk it all “doing the right thing”.

Growth’s a funny thing, and plenty of it can happen over two years. (G)I-DLE continues their upward trajectory, gaining both domestic and international fame as she becomes their most popular member. Her popularity with the general public is honestly anything but surprising, especially considering her Chinese heritage and English fluency that allow her to tap into two major media markets most groups struggle to find a foothold in. And, of course, there’s her personal appeal. If you had a thousand won for every tweet freaking out about her cute face and shockingly deep voice, you’d be retired before reaching legal drinking age. None of it particularly bothers you—if anything, you can’t help but laugh at the cyclical nature of it all. A comeback will be announced, a significant number of album pre-orders will be purchased by Chinese fans, the promotion cycle will begin, you’ll be told a story of how she lost her mind at some poor member of production, and no one outside of the industry will hear a thing. And most of the time, that’s okay. Until it isn’t.

Until you’re sitting in your apartment transcribing an interview with a nugu group—the type struggling to hit ten thousand views, let alone ten million—because that’s when your conscience crawls back to the forefront of your mind. It’s these moments, the ones where their tears streak down the window to your soul, that nearly make you reconsider your outlook on life. Their tales tug at your heartstrings as you pen them to the page, recounting how they have to work at convenience stores between promotions. It’s so painful to tell their story when they’re doing everything “the right way” while you know that one of the industry’s fastest rising stars is lounging atop a throne built of broken wills and wearing a crown made of crushed dreams. These are the moments where you’d give anything to write the happy ending these hopeful heroines deserve.

But, you know, deep down, that your conscience can’t keep you from doing anything; only keep you from enjoying it. Thus, you calm your heart and carry on. You do as you must, playing by their rules, even if they’re written in ink from bleeding hearts—you learned a long time ago that those with the best intentions leave impact craters, not legacies. So, you continue, because you know there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it.

Yet.

It’s not as if you sit idly during this time, allowing life to pass you by. No, you make the most of your time, fervently penning reviews and posting your thoughts to anyone that will listen. And, unsurprisingly, some do. You manage to carve out a minute slice of the public consciousness to fit your growing personal brand. The company grows alongside you, allowing for more video content that lets people put a face to the name as you interview more idols and grow your following. You know—in heart and mind alike—that it's ultimately just people with too much time on their hands slotting you into their empty schedule. You try not to let it affect you and succeed because they're not the ones you're looking to impress. It might not be ideal, but it’s working. For a while.

Then the world shuts down.

-x-

It’s a bit different the next time her group releases their first single. It’s a bit different when there’s only a pair of shiny new songs to capture the attention of the quarantined addicts. It’s a bit different when the responses grow larger than a vocal minority. It’s a bit different when it’s the eight-ball skirting along the edge of the corner pocket, like a threat from the universe that your luck is running out. It’s definitely different when your CEO calls and asks what exactly is going on. But his fears and fans’ frothing are both addressed with a simple strategy: silence. Less than a week passes before a new, more salacious scandal redirects the focus of the hyperactive hive mind and leaves your DMs deliciously desolate. Soon thereafter, you’re free to announce an upcoming retrospective project you’ve been wanting to start for a while, allowing you to proceed uninhibited. Well, except for your nightmare.

In this period of even further isolation, it’s been your unbidden associate, recurring far more rapidly compared to the previously infrequent incursions. As much as the sustained suffering has indisputably infuriated you, your progress through purgatory has been irrefutably illuminating. At the heart of the inferno, amidst brimstone and blaze, awaits a figure. For once, your headway almost makes you happy; for once, you’re almost anticipating the thought of heading to bed.

Unfortunately, the cruel winds of fate care little for the best laid plans, and the dream disappears less than a week after it reappears. You’re left wanting as one heat abandons you just as another rears its ugly head. It’s a brutal summer, with rising temperatures and quarantine restrictions combining to drive even the most mentally resilient members of society insane. Obviously, it’s even worse for those whose sanity slipped long ago.

Which means it hits a certain someone especially hard. Amid her group’s filming—another freedom she’s offered while you suffer alone—her multitude of misdeeds adds to the growing list of things you can’t escape. You count not one, not two, three, four, five, or even six stories of her wrath being inflicted on the poor production staff working to construct their comeback. Not a single word is whispered of her seven venomous verbal onslaughts. You’d call it unlucky, but years of experience remind you it’s just the norm for people like her.

Fall offers a welcome reprieve as restrictions are loosened, but winter’s arrival and the holiday season lead to an uptick in cases and increased countermeasures. What is often a quiet time for many is a period of ceaseless activity for you as you cover any and every award show related to the industry, capitalizing on any potential opportunity as per usual. It is, unsurprisingly, effective, and you go into the new year with significant progress made and intentions to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

It lasts all of a week before a certain group drops their latest EP.

You can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all. An EP titled “I Burn” right as you’re on the verge of burning out. You’re too tired for innovation. Too exhausted for subtle additions. Just principled enough for a single exclusion. Your formula has driven engagement thus far; no reason to divert from it now. Somehow, some way, you manage to kindle a small spark of motivation and finish your review on time. After a few agonizing hours of anxious anticipation, your editor deems it ready to post with no significant revisions. You head to bed well before your regular hour, silencing your notifications as you pray that a soothing night of rest will revitalize you and grant you the energy necessary to deal with karma's cruel machinations.

As you slip into the silence of slumber, it’s not serenity that awaits, but sparks. An ignition. An inferno. For once, you hesitate. Instead of wading into the flames, you wait. Watch. Lethargy latches onto you, and you lament the lost opportunity as you’re forced to admit you lack the vitality to attempt this trial tonight. You sigh, turn, and begin to walk away.

A single step. A second. A third. Nine. None.

You freeze in place as you feel an icy hand capture your wrist, wrenching you back and whirling you around to face the figure. The silhouette sports a small stature, cropped black hair, and a featureless face that somehow still stares into your soul. The glacial nucleus of the inferno studies you for a moment, tilting its head curiously, then begins to drag you towards the depths of the hellfire. You fight, digging your heels in and desperately attempting to break its hold on you, but your efforts are in vain as it maintains its grasp on you and seals your fate.

You feel the licks of flame lapping away at you long before you see the damage. No, your eyes are locked on your captor and her silent satisfaction—her contentedness to bathe in the inferno as long as you crumble to ash alongside her. This incineration is nothing short of harrowing and hellish as you’re seared into cinders, but the emotion you experience most is helplessness. Your previous attempts to brave the blaze have at least been marked by your determination, your desire to uncover the truths concealed within the core, but this cremation inspires only dread. The last image that flashes across your mind is the scorching stare of a face without eyes.

For the first time in forever, you’re genuinely grateful for the freedom your alarm clock grants you. You immediately vault out of bed, jumping into an arctic shower and casting aside any concerns about doing so during the height of winter. After roughly an hour, equipped with a clear head and a cup of coffee, you confront the consequences of your choice.

Fortunately, the inflammatory comments you receive in response are primarily concentrated within the private space of your DMs rather than in the public view. You cast aside most of the messages without a second thought … until you reach one that’s a bit more interesting.

A forgettable account name? ✔

Zero comments or original posts across its entire existence? ✔

A string of likes on comments and posts singing her praises? ✔

Oh, and of course the message itself:

ASong4You: No but like seriously, what the fuck is your problem?

Check.

Literally any other idol and your mind wouldn’t be going down the path it’s exploring now. But given the rumors … given your history … even though with all those factors, it’s still one hell of a stretch …

No, it has to be her. It's too vague to be anything else.

So, you respond. Not on your main account, of course; you also have a burner. Obviously.

You compose a message to her burner in the bird app, then an identical one to her main account in the picture app, and send them simultaneously:

TurnThePage: I could ask you the same thing

You see her read it on the first account, then the second. A moment passes, allowing you the briefest bit of calm amidst the coming storm, but it’s gone in an instant as she fires another shot.

ASong4You: Seriously dude, your writer is showing, it's honestly unbearable TurnThePage: I’m sorry you don’t have poetry in your heart TurnThePage: But thank you for the compliment, I'm quite proud of my writing ASong4You: You really shouldn't be, I've seen some of the “fascinating findings” you've posted ASong4You: They make a shampoo bottle look like a New York Times bestseller by comparison TurnThePage: You'll have to send me your hair care recommendations! I love a good read :D TurnThePage: And thank you for supporting my work! It's always a pleasure to meet a fan ASong4You: Ahhh, now I see why you have to pay people to talk to you ASong4You: But yeah, before this conversation ruins my appetite, I gotta ask, what's your deal with me? I’ve literally done nothing to you TurnThePage: Like you said, people are usually paid to answer questions like that, but I'm sure we can meet in the middle here TurnThePage: What’s your deal? The people you bring to tears have done nothing but try to make your life easier, yet here you are ASong4You: Haven't you ever heard the saying “don't believe everything you hear”? Chill with the drama, I'm sure whatever you've heard is stupidly overblown ASong4You: Besides, anybody I’ve ever yelled at deserved it TurnThePage: I don’t believe you believe that ASong4You: Fuck you, who do you think you are? You don’t even know me TurnThePage: Maybe not yet, but your actions have spoken even louder than your words, and it’s been hard not to hear the echoes of both ASong4You: Do you ever talk like a normal person? TurnThePage: Maybe TurnThePage: Why, hoping I'll humor you long enough for you to find out? ASong4You: Honestly I kinda just wish you'd die in a fire, but that's neither here nor there ASong4You: Aren't there like, actual global events you could write about instead? Or did you just not make the cut? TurnThePage: Maybe ASong4You: Oh, so now that we're talking about your shortcomings, you finally shut up? ASong4You: Good to know TurnThePage: Maybe I'm trying to preserve your appetite. Unlike you, I can be considerate TurnThePage: Can I honestly just ask why? Like I've never heard anything good about you TurnThePage: It'd be impressive if it weren’t so awful ASong4You: Wouldn't you like to know? Just go ask one of the assholes that's lied about me already, I'm sure they'll make up an answer you like TurnThePage: I just figured it'd be a lot better for your members if they weren't constantly worried about the ticking time bomb standing next to them ASong4You: Don't. ASong4You: Don't bring them into this, you haven't even told me why you're being such an ass for no good reason ASong4You: I kinda think it'd just be best for both of us if you forgot about it all and started giving me the credit I deserve TurnThePage: Surely you can't think you'll be able to hide behind that cute face forever. Karma takes notes in pen, not pencil ASong4You: I'll be sure to let you know if things ever do change, but until then? Might as well just keep doing what's working ASong4You: Also thanks for the compliment ;) TurnThePage: Any time, sweetheart ASong4You: Don't call me that TurnThePage: Okay darling ASong4You: Fuck. ASong4You: You. ASong4You: Tbh I'd love nothing more than to toss a match on your greasy ass and toast marshmallows as you burn TurnThePage: Jokes on you, maybe I like to play with fire ASong4You: Then I hope you dream of something you find hotter than your reflection

You type up a couple of responses, but end up deleting all of them, each feeling inadequate to the discomfort her line makes you feel. Oh well, you think to yourself. Not the worst thing if she thinks she got the last word in, gives me more room to do as I please.

Yet you stay—sitting, staring at the screen, wondering what’s lying beyond the glass that’s captured your attention so intensely. Your gaze occasionally drifts elsewhere, but your focus remains drawn to this singular conversation and a certain someone. Someone no more than a couple dozen kilometers away, someone you should have every reason to despise and avoid, yet someone who you can’t help but wonder about. Wonder what lies behind that smile. Wonder what hides behind those eyes. Wonder if they’re staring right back.

-x-

It’s a lonely night, made even worse by the company of their reflection. Two halves of a whole, on mirrored paths with no sense of purpose or direction.

In this absence of light, all they can see is the whites of their eyes. In this moment of peace, all they can hear is their echoing lies.

Outside these walls, the world knows each as a shining star, floating through an astral sea. But deep within, each keeps their true self hidden away, trapped under lock and key.

In their heart and soul, all that is left is hurt and pain. In the years to come, all that matters is selfish gain.

But that’s a problem for another day, a problem that no storm can wash away, a problem they both know is here to stay.

So here they sit, alone again, so here they sit, wondering when. When will they meet, be face to face, and “will they cause my fall from grace?”.

A long night awaits them, one where their dreams will host a war. A routine recurrence, repeating what they’ve done before. Yet still a welcome sight because both know what they’re in for. The inferno beckons, inviting them to find out more.

And so, despite their best judgement, they each choose to proceed. They go, without a second thought, trying to sate a need.

They yearn. They burn.

-x-

A single day of anticipatory silence ages you far more than the decade of peace that’s preceded it. You can feel it in your heart, in your blood, in the way it slogs through your veins. Your fingers bear a peculiar weight as—instead of dancing gracefully over the keyboard��they stumble and crash through your draft, producing an unrecognizable, unacceptable product. Upon the page, imperfection mocks your brittle mentality, taunting you and inviting you to waste more of your time ignoring the only problem that matters right now.

A brief respite presents a far more welcome sight: a message from the girl from that first interview, asking how your holidays were. The notification grabs your attention and excites you … but not as much as it should. Maybe it's because of what lies below—what you see when your eyes drift down. Maybe it's because of the DM sitting right beneath it, where her accusation awaits. Because that message … it incenses you far more than it should. It isn’t the implication of narcissism that so clearly shines through, but something else lying just below the surface—something barely evading your grasp while beguiling your mind.

It takes the whole day and a dozen more before the thought of her finally fucks off and leaves you with the slightest semblance of some peace and quiet—a dozen nights spent in damned inferno, incinerating any chance you’d have of enjoying a rejuvenating rest. Eventually, the distractions fade and the world settles into an undisturbed quiet, the type you love to find yourself in. The type where you can shroud yourself in silence. The type where whispers punch through peaceful tranquility.

You’re not so vain to assume you’re the first to hear the rumblings, but you are shameless enough to admit you’re probably the first person excited by them. Their spread is contagious, chaotic, and anything but controllable. All that you’re missing is a bowl of popcorn as you sit back and watch the show unfold. Someone somewhere leaks the information on their socials, and you’re more than happy to spectate the storm’s rising tides from your perch atop a higher rung … and oh, what a view.

The primary benefit of being “plugged in” to the industry is, of course, the connections. So, when you receive a message informing you of tomorrow’s upcoming announcement, you thank them and plan accordingly. But then there’s another message. And another. And …

ASong4You: Don’t. ASong4You: I know you think you’re so fucking clever and you know just what to say ASong4You: But for once in your life, shut up. TurnThePage: Have you considered saying “please”? ASong4You: No.

Well, when she fires shots like that, what else is there to do but respond in kind?

The night comes. The flames rise. You open your eyes and are greeted by the gorgeous gleaming sunlight and something even more beautiful awaiting you on your nightstand.

“(G)I-DLE member Soojin announces hiatus from the group following alleged bullying accusations from former classmates.”

You, of course, wrote up your response and scheduled the tweet to be sent within minutes of the announcement. It’s nothing crazy, nothing petty, just something to farm engagement:

“There’ve been serious accusations across a number of idols, many of whom deserve judgement. But until we’ve been presented with undeniable proof, we should be patient & not assume that they’d risk years of training & passion just to demean & belittle others. It’d make no sense.”

Okay, maybe a little petty.

You set your phone down, stretch a bit, go for a short walk, and make sure to grab eye protection before checking on the fireworks going off in your DMs.

ASong4You: All you had to do was nothing, and you couldn’t even manage that ASong4You: Like the bar was so low it was literally in hell ASong4You: Yet here you are, doing the limbo with the fucking devil TurnThePage: That’s far too many words for none of them to be “please” ASong4You: I swear, if I ever get my hands on you, the bruises I’ll leave … TurnThePage: Oh good, I could use a little color in my life

And just like that, the conversation comes to a close. This pair of dialogues contains the last words you say to each other for two entire months, months best spent enjoying a world previously hidden behind doors now unlocked by the vaccinations. The heat on your face, the sounds of travel, the sight of familiar landmarks … all of it is a welcome reprieve from the societal incarceration you’ve been taking part in. You feel truly, thankfully, at peace. But while the winds carry the scents of spring, they also carry whispers of what’s to come. And there’s one whisper in particular—one that stands out. One that results in your forehead becoming warmly acquainted with the wood of your desk.

The newly formed couple aren’t allowed to enjoy each other’s company for long, as destiny arrives all too soon and ushers you into the cab. Into the airport. Into the plane. Into the sky. Into China.

Since your last visit to the country, you’ve grown. You’ve risen. You’ve worked and wrote and watched your former peers fade beneath the cloud line. Since your last visit, you’ve lost count of the dramatic declarations and sunrise submissions that define your professional life. You’ve lost track of any consistent characteristics that define your personal life.

The journey to who and where you are today began in this country nearly four years ago.

The reflection staring back has aged forty.

Hangzhou offers no solace as you depart the airport and are met by the garish glare of the fan-sponsored advertisement for her solo debut. A grimace, glare, and grumble are all you offer in response before turning and merging with the moving mass of travelers dispersing among the city streets. While neither land nor sea seem like enough to escape her reach, maybe you can find a top shelf to hide on.

In the meantime, this’ll be a brief trip, only a couple of days dedicated to as many interviews. The first day is quick and painless—the second is anything but. Free time is to be feared when attempting to keep a mind busy, and the open space in your calendar only allows the laughter of her successes to echo that much louder. Things only worsen when an appointment with a contact falls through because of unexpected rescheduling.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry,” she says, voice crackling slightly through the tenuous connection. “It’s a shame. I was really looking forward to seeing the performances tonight—wait, do you want my ticket? I got a really good seat, great view of the stage.”

“Sure, that sounds great,” you reply, words escaping before your brighter side can block them. “Who’s performing?”

“It’s a whole bunch of acts, but there was specifically one I wanted to see … it was some K-Pop girl group member you’ve probably heard of,” she says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world; like it isn’t the reason you’re desperately searching around the room for a defibrillator. “I forgot her name, but I’m sure you know who she is.”

“Almost certainly,” you choke out, forcing out a laugh through gritted teeth. “Yeah, if you could email me the ticket, that would be awesome, and we’ll definitely have to make sure we do something the next time I come to China or the next time you visit Nayoung, alright?”

“Great, hope you enjoy! Wish me luck!” she responds, blissfully unaware as she ends the call.

Minutes later, you receive an email confirming your suspicions and your fears. It’s a festival with over a dozen acts, but there’s one that stands out: the first performance of her new solo album.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

There’s no way in hell you’re going there. You’d rather watch paint dry than watch her perform. You’ve avoided listening to her solo songs thus far and you have no intention of changing that—especially by seeing her live and in-person.

It’s a ridiculous notion, you think to yourself as you lay back on the bed, hands behind your head as you consider how you’d like to spend the rest of the day.

…

Fuck, where’s seat 239?

Somewhere amongst the hours of apathy that comprised the afternoon, some dark corner of your brain spawned the idea that this was going to be your best shot at seeing her in-person without financially supporting her. Somehow, that flimsy justification fused with the inexplicable pull you’ve felt and resulted in your decision to show up. Even as you finally find your seat and sit down—just as the lights dim before the first performance—you still don’t know entirely why you’re here.

Luckily, the first couple acts do a wonderful job of distracting you away from overthinking, allowing you to—for the first time since you arrived in the country—relax and enjoy yourself as the true fan of music you’ve always been. That delusion lasts four whole songs before the announcement comes over the loudspeaker and sends a chill down your spine.

She’s next.

You pull out your phone, desperately attempting to draw your eyes anywhere other than the stage. A pair of messages await you and, continuing the trend of bad decisions that’s come to define this particular day, you open them and reveal their contents.

ASong4You: I almost wish you were here to see me perform, hear the roar of the crowd as they scream my name ASong4You: Maybe one day you’ll come to your senses and I’ll make you do the same

The victory lap is … cute. You begin composing a response, but your inner monologue is immediately drowned out by the sounds of screaming as the crowd rumbles to life. You guess, purely based on their reactions, that she’s arrived. You continue your vain quest to refuse to pay her even your attention, instead inspecting the periphery of the stage, where you can see the other participants beginning to appear.

You see the dancers as they dart onto the stage; a dozen join her, then a dozen more. You’re too far to see their eyes, but their bodies tell a sufficient story: one of devotion, determination, and desperation. You wonder what paths their lives have followed—what choices they’ve made to lead them to this place and time. You wonder what they’ve seen, what they’ve heard, what they do when they think of her.

Do they smile? Do they shudder? Does she care if they’ve suffered?

You’ve avoided the inevitable for far too long. You allow your eyes to be drawn to her, pulled in by the magnetism of her performance. You’ve never denied her majesty—never mocked the magic she can create with a microphone. No, it’s her methods, her mentality, her malevolence that’s manifested your misery and madness. The worst part of all is the casual way she carries herself, as if her nationality alone is enough to conceal sins of days long past. It hits particularly close to home for you, especially as you sit here, in a country foreign to the foreign country you reside in. You can’t stop yourself from seething at how she adores the applause, how she cherishes the country and home she holds dear. Any rational thoughts that might have risen to the surface are drowned out by the screams of the fans as they chant her name, cheering for her arrival as she stands atop the stage and the spirits she’s broken.

It’s almost too much. Seeing her here, in her element, shining under the spotlight as she single-handedly inscribes her song into your memories, you’re so close to giving in.

It’d be so much easier to just follow the fantasy, pretend that her performance ends with the final note. It’d be so much easier to assume that her backup dancers are trained to leave the stage that quickly, that their fervor isn’t driven by an acute anxiety at the thought of meeting her eyes. For once, you wish you could do so—wish you could search her soul for the full story. Because here, in this stadium filled with her adoring fans, you can see, hear, feel the passion in her voice.

All you can do is wonder when it began its mutation into malice.

You slip out shortly thereafter, disregarding the remaining acts as you attempt to shake off the unsettling feeling clinging to your bones. It’s a short walk to the hotel, but the climb back up to where you’re staying feels anything but.

It’s somehow worse when you arrive in your room and another message arrives in your inbox. Continuing your streak of bad decisions, you open it as you flip onto the bed, bracing yourself for her latest assault.

ASong4You: Oh, now you have nothing to say? Figures

And that’s all she has to say.

… that’s it? Really?

You’re definitely disappointed and slightly surprised that she didn’t send more. Wait, no, you’re surprisingly disappointed and definitely surprised that … wait … fuck, which bag contains the cure for this headache?

You’re more than familiar with telling stories despite a tired mind—you’ve built your career upon a foundation of fighting against fatigue. The sensation sitting in the pit of your stomach is neither. It’s a weird feeling, somewhere between weariness and wistfulness, but stronger than your feelings of the former and even less justified than an appearance of the latter. A weird feeling for a weird day, one that was filled with nearly nothing except that one thing, but still so exhausting.

It’s a day you’d like to end. Your head hits the pillow, your eyelids flutter closed, and your consciousness fucks off.

And then the sun rises. But its shine paints the sand, not your sheets. You hear not the honking of cars but the crashing of waves; instead of the smell of fresh linens with a hint of lavender, the salty spray of the sea sends its scent straight into your senses. You shift, stand, shuffle, stretch, squint, and search your surroundings. And you see … the sea. Shocker.

But then, just beneath the squawking of the seagulls, you hear it; no, her. It’s the most intimate, unmistakable voice you’d swear you’ve never heard before. Her siren’s song serenades you, showing you the path, inviting you to join her beyond the veil, guiding you past the barrier separating you two. And there’s nothing you’d rather do than follow.

You step forward, feeling the grains of sand shift beneath your feet as you close the distance between you and the shoreline. As you descend the slope further and further—riding the high ever upward—her melody envelops you in its soothing, loving embrace, warding off some of the ocean's chill. You walk until the slope disappears from under your feet, then you swim until the waves settle to reveal a familiar, unrecognizable figure. You swim forth further, closing the distance until you’re face-to-face with the featureless countenance staring back. Even amidst the sway of the sea, the normally harsh pull of the waves seems harmless—almost as if Poseidon himself chose to grant you this moment of privacy.

You see no mouth, but you hear her words all the same—tantalizing whispers of sweet nothings as she asks everything of you. Your attention. Your time. Your heart. Your ambition. For the second time, she touches you. For the first time, she wraps her arms around you and pulls herself against your body. You look down at her, resting her head against your chest as she whispers these words directly into your heart, transcribing these truths upon the strands of your soul as you hold her. Then you look past her and see the endless void of darkness awaiting below the waves.

A chill runs up your already frigid spine, yet despite the overwhelming terror at the possibilities potentially lurking below, you stay. And unlike before, the figure doesn't drag you into the darkened depths, where your shared doom surely awaits. No, she does the same as you. She stays. In your arms, she finds security. In hers, you find solace. You close your eyes, drowning out any sensations other than the sound of her voice.

You open them, and in your empty hotel room, you find silence. You find solitude. And in this darkness, a depraved desire to deliver a response to her gloating drives you back into your DMs.

TurnThePage: I apologize for shattering the illusion that I'm here at your beck & call TurnThePage: But those of us with the unfortunate label of “contributing members of society” have things to do

Fortunately or otherwise, you don't have to wait long for a response:

ASong4You: Oh fuck off, I’m in a good mood this morning and don’t need you ruining it ASong4You: I’d tell you to go hug the ocean floor, but the walk there would be more than you deserve

It’s not the severity of the insult that unnerves you so significantly. It’s the specificity. It’s the timing. It’s honestly just everything about her and even the things tangentially related to her, but mostly those two. It’s an unidentifiable emotion that ends any response you might have had before it even has a chance to manifest, silencing your snark and settling at the forefront of your mind for the rest of the day and beyond, even long after you leave China.

-x-

Silence between you two is undeniably the norm, but even as other projects and commitments sweep you away, you can’t help but feel anxious. Even as you focus on other opportunities, there’s an inevitability ticking away at the back of your mind. So, when the whispers first resurface, you’re not surprised, nor relieved, nor excited. If anything, you’re just intrigued. And you plan accordingly.

This time, when you hear confirmation from your contacts, you’re not surprised to hear nothing from her. This time, there’s no tweaking of the statement—no attempts to squeeze in exactly as many characters as are allowed. This time, you don’t let even a minute pass before responding to the announcement of Soojin’s departure. No, this time, you load only a single shot into the chamber.

This time, you aim for the heart.

"I wish the good-hearted members of (G)I-DLE the best of luck as they navigate the ramifications of their members' actions." (Posted at 8:27 PM)

The tiniest of alterations. The smallest of changes. Seemingly a mistake so inconsequential that even your editor wouldn’t catch it. But for one whose hackles were already raised, that implication of multiple members rather than single outlier is a declaration of war. So, when her message arrives in your inbox, you expect it to burn your eyes with the fury of a thousand suns. What you find is something else entirely.

ASong4You: So, how’s your day going?

Well, that’s unexpected. You know better than to drop your guard, but your curiosity demands that you play along, at least for now.

TurnThePage: Pretty good TurnThePage: Very productive, so that’s always nice TurnThePage: What about yours? ASong4You: Could be better ASong4You: Could be worse TurnThePage: Could it? ASong4You: Probably ASong4You: Not exactly looking to find out TurnThePage: Don’t you want me to at least try? ASong4You: No because I’m quite sure you could easily find a way to make it worse TurnThePage: I was talking about making it better

You watch as she begins typing, then pauses. Assumedly, she changes her mind because her next message surprises you.

ASong4You: You know what? Sure ASong4You: Make my day TurnThePage: I’m pretty confident this’ll work ASong4You: You’re pretty confident about a lot of things TurnThePage: You’re not wrong (Image sent at 8:43PM)

Another pause.

ASong4You: Okay I can’t lie that corgi is pretty cute TurnThePage: I know, right? I've been wanting one for years now, but it doesn't seem fair to leave them locked up when I need to travel for work. ASong4You: It’s nice of you to care TurnThePage: Thanks, I try ASong4You: Do you? TurnThePage: I do! TurnThePage: Sometimes I even succeed

This back and forth continues on for a while, neither of you willing to let the other have the last word. While not stated outright, you’ve realized that she’s somehow found herself with the same goal as you: burning down the walls the other hides behind. It’s honestly pretty cute, but more importantly, it’s genuinely dangerous. Now that the boiling point could be reached at seemingly any moment, you’ve realized that in this rivalry, results matter more than reason.

Thus, the dialogue never dies, ranging from carefully probing questions to mild disagreements to stories about funny occurrences but interestingly, never direct insults or aggression. If anything, as time passes, the frequency increases. The timestamps tell a story of two individuals tied up in ceaseless pursuit, with one message being delivered as the sun descends below the skyline and its response arriving as the following school day begins. The density of messages may be irregular, but the consistency of responses is far from it. Both of you adamantly add to the simmering coals, continuing to fan the flames with your words, gladly accepting the risk of joining the other as a pile of ash.

You want, no, need, her facade to fall. She’ll give anything to “expose” you as the type of villain that frequents Saturday morning cartoons. She’s desperately attempting to maintain her veil of innocence. You’d love nothing more than to see it go up in flames and let the world see the truth as the smoke clears. Neither of you is willing to reveal your hand, and folding isn’t an option. So, this cold war wages on.

It’s an otherwise unremarkable afternoon when the first piece falls into place. You’re scrolling through your timeline, seeking both idle entertainment and diamonds in the rough as you await responses from multiple people. You see one post amongst the sea of several, commenting about (G)I-DLE all getting new phones together because one of them got destroyed. Something about the screen getting shattered when dropped, something that seems insignificant. But you have two eyes for a reason, and what’s the point of having both if you can’t catch double meanings?

So, just in case, you file it away for later, maybe for a rainy day. Three days later, you venture back into your DMs, conversing with her as you hide from the downpour outside.

ASong4You: Honestly I think audio issues are the worst ones to deal with ASong4You: Because usually the people fixing them are using headsets to test everything, so we never have any idea if any progress is being made ASong4You: Like at least with lighting, it’s clear as day when it’s working like it’s supposed to TurnThePage: That makes sense, audio’s always been the type of issue I’m most scared of TurnThePage: Because for interviews, usually I just record the audio and transcribe it later. If the audio is fucked up, I’ve wasted hours, if not days’ worth of time TurnThePage: For me and the client TurnThePage: Luckily, not a very frequent issue, but a concern all the same TurnThePage: Feels like you’ve been hitting a lot of production hiccups recently ASong4You: Yeah, seems like a pretty unlucky streak ASong4You: It’s kinda whatever though, I don’t let little things like that bother me

… but honestly, when she lines it up like that, who could blame you for taking a shot?

TurnThePage: Pretty sure your old phone would say otherwise, but go off ASong4You: Fuck. ASong4You: You. ASong4You: Actually, you know what? Fine. ASong4You: It's been obvious for a while now that you're desperate for attention, so here. I'm listening. ASong4You: What the fuck do you want from me?

It’s such a shame, especially since the conversation was going so nicely. Oh well, you flew too close to the sun and ended up reigniting the blaze between you two. Guess that leaves you with no choice but to fight fire with fire.

TurnThePage: The truth would be too rich for your blood, wouldn’t it? ASong4You: That’s a bit rich coming from you, don’t you think? ASong4You: Considering you’ve never even met me and are just going off of what you’ve heard from rumors TurnThePage: I mean, what else am I supposed to go off of? TurnThePage: We’ve barely talked, but even just based on that, I’m pretty sure meeting you would be detrimental to my health ASong4You: Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re gonna let a little danger get in the way of a date with destiny ASong4You: Aren’t you the type who likes to play with fire? TurnThePage: Aren’t you? ASong4You: Now you’re getting it ASong4You: If you didn’t already have a reason to be backstage at Gayo Daejeon in a few weeks, now you do TurnThePage: What, you’re just expecting me to drop everything and dance with the devil on Christmas of all days? ASong4You: Yes. ASong4You: Come on, it’ll be fun! What’s the worst that could happen?

As much as every part of your mind is screaming that this is a terrible idea, you know that it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up.

TurnThePage: Alright, I’ll be there. Just for you TurnThePage: Think of it as an early Christmas present ASong4You: Only if you come gift wrapped with a little bow on top TurnThePage: Only if you ask nicely ASong4You: In your fucking dreams ASong4You: Speaking of, I have to go contribute to society. Until then, enjoy dreaming of me!

You pause, processing the statement for a moment before sending the last thing you'll say to her for quite some time.

TurnThePage: You too

You close the app, discarding your DMs at least for the moment as you allow yourself to reenter the real world—the world where silence awaits, having settled in long before you did. It’s a comfortable silence, the norm you’ve come to rely on when composing messages and emails and blogs and messages and reviews and tweets and captions and messages. It’s an intentional sensation, amplified by the thick walls and specific location away from the chaos of the city you so desperately sought. It’s the warm blanket that wards off the chills creeping in the darkness as you chase the early morning sun. It’s the friend that helped you find yourself.

It’s deafening.

You stand and grab your keys, intent on grabbing some coffee and a bite to eat before the night steals your last chance to do so. As you wait in one line and then another, you plan out your upcoming days, noting openings in your calendar and marking them down for future opportunities. After all, your schedule might already be busy, but that’s no reason it couldn’t be busier. How else would you want to spend your free time?

-x-

The year’s end heralds many things, chief among them the year-end award ceremonies and the annual echoes of insanity you’re forced to subject yourself to once more. One would think that after four iterations of the same song and dance sweeping the circuit, you’d have found a better way to congratulate the usual suspects on their trio of triumphs. While you manage, it’s a slog like nothing you’ve had to fight through since your rookie campaign. The motivation you need to excel always seems to be one cup of coffee or one more procrastinated hour away, yet you continuously fail to muster the energy to snatch it out of the fog afore you.

You somehow manage to write just enough and post it just soon enough to drive the engagement numbers you need to remain ahead of projections for the year. It’s a sigh of relief that’s followed by one of the few exciting traditions amidst an industry filled with formulaic procedures: music festivals.

The KBS Song Festival is a breath of fresh air for you as you go, in-person, for the first time. You’re able to translate your experiences onto the page flawlessly, and the reception to your piece is one of the best yet. It simultaneously excites and pressures you to pay close attention to the next festival you go to in the hopes that you can recreate or even exceed that piece’s success. There’s only one issue.

SBS Gayo Daejun is next.

It’s been complete radio silence since your last message. Two months since she read your response and you each retreated to your bunkers. The war might have grown colder alongside the changing seasons, but you know it’s no less flammable than before. You dress warmly, enough layers to ward off the cold winter air, yet light enough to have options. Just in case.

You arrive early, hours before the event’s 6PM scheduled start time. The Namdong Gymnasium is a massive venue, easily able to seat thousands of rabid fans eager to shake its foundation with their roar. You probably have a press pass somewhere in your email, but you can see the recognition in the eyes of the security when you walk up without a shadow of a doubt; you’ve been to enough of these kinds of events over the past year or so that they’re happy to welcome you in.

Once inside, it takes but a handful of quick conversations over warm handshakes to get a lay of the land and create a mental catalog of where different idols will be waiting and, most importantly, where people won’t be. After all, in life—not just in K-Pop—privacy is priceless. Later, when you find yourself alone, you begin to ponder and plan. You have plenty of time and endless amounts of patience, but not as much of either as you’d like. So, you pull out your phone and do something seemingly detestable. You shatter the silence.

TurnThePage: Tell me when and I’ll tell you where

For once, you’re happy to be swept up into a conversation as the earliest performing groups begin to arrive and greet you warmly. Your ambitions are far too grand to fit within a niche, but as you’ve actively fostered relationships with the brightest rising stars in the business, you’ve kindled a kind of camaraderie over the couple of conversations shared. You wish IVE the best of luck with their upcoming Olympic send-off stage, discuss the remix STAYC will be performing later, and make bets with Aespa whether “Got the Beat” will be weird or wonderful. Of course, the bet ends up being mostly metaphorical since it’s kinda hard to place a wager when all five members of the discussion agree it’ll be the former.

A few hours pass until there’s three until showtime. Your phone vibrates, which could mean many things, but you know what just arrived in your inbox. You allow two more hours to pass before you dip off to the side into a small alcove, allowing you to preview her response in peace.

She sent you a window of time, almost exactly when you’d expected based on the schedule of the performances. You read the message, allow the checkmark to turn blue, then put your phone away. You continue to wait, letting a whole nother hour pass until the broadcast begins, at which point you finally send her your location of choice. It’s an unutilized dressing room about a minute away from where the performers are preparing to go on stage; the perfect spot to find some priceless privacy, leaving you with roughly 10 minutes with which to enjoy it.

As the various artists claim their positions for the opening performance, you decide how best to utilize the upcoming forty minutes. You scope out the scene and develop a plan, starting by targeting those who appear to be anxiously waiting. Those who have a minute to spare, but whose lips are loosened when the second comes around and you’re still asking them to share their story. The hunt pays off, rewarding you with information about Itzy’s upcoming Japan promotions, Oh My Girl’s second album, and Red Velvet’s upcoming concert. You file the information away for later, at the ready just in case it could result in a potential opportunity.

Eventually, your internal clock informs you it’s time. You slip away from the outskirts of the main preparation area, taking a wide berth as you avoid being seen on your way to the intended location. On the way there, you grab a pair of bottles of water, mind already kicking into overdrive as you plan how you want to handle this encounter.

Once you enter the room, you’re pleased to see the mostly bare walls and lack of furnishings aside from a row of mirrors on the far wall and a trio of couches placed around a small table. You note them but disregard them for the moment, instead leaning against one of the smooth concrete walls as you pull out your phone and attempt to respond to a couple of emails. You barely get through one before the turning of a latch and a shock of recently bleached blonde signals her early arrival.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” you say, as if this whole situation were the most casual thing in the world. “Here, catch.”

She deftly snatches the water bottle out of the air, checking the seal immediately as she peers past the plastic with suspicion blatant in her stare. “Thanks, I guess?”

You’re not sure if it’s the room’s acoustics or the unfamiliar lack of a screen or microphone for separation but hearing her voice up close and personal for the first time hits. The sound waves slowly waltz up your spine, sending shockwaves through your synapses as they encircle and entrance your eardrums, then shoot down to the rest of your body and share the sensation. While you smell skepticism coating each third of her trio of words, you also catch something beneath the surface. Intrigue. Amusement. Annoyance. Excitement. And then something else, hidden amongst the huskiest tones of her exhalations. Something even you can’t catch.

You take slow, measured steps as you walk parallel to her, claiming one of the couches as your own as you sit down on one side of the table and she seats herself across from you. “But of course!” you declare jovially, creating an illusion of welcoming even as you reinforce your mental walls. “I can promise it’s not poisoned. There’s far too much I’d love to ask you.”

“Is that so?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow as she puts her feet up on the table. “You seem awfully confident that I’m willing to answer.”

“Can’t help it,” you admit with a shrug, refusing to break eye contact even for a moment as you take a swig of your water. “Side effect of a never-ending streak of successes, I suppose.”

“You’re adorable,” she coos, eyes catching fire for the first time. You watch, gaze unwavering as she leans back, closing her eyes as she takes her own drink of water, then wipes her lips with the back of her hand and holds your eyes once more. “You’re also avoiding the topic at hand.”

“Oh, am I?” you ask, knowing full well what she means but too intrigued to voice the topic yourself. “Please, do tell.”

She leans forward, blowing through any pretense as she demands to know, “Why are you so obsessed with me?”

“Ah, 6:42, starting right on schedule,” you think to yourself, smiling as you shake your head and place your water on the table. “Darling, I love me some self-centeredness, but I think you’ve misunderstood. As much as I refuse to diminish the significance of your sins, I’m nowhere near as invested in your failure as you seem to think. Honestly, if anything, dragging out this ‘drama’ has been great for engagement.”

“Oh, come the fuck on,” she says, hints of a chuckle hidden amongst the darkness in her tone as she stands and uses all 163 centimeters of her figure to barely look down at you. You almost find it ironic that here—in the midst of an argument—is the closest you’ve come to seeing each other eye to eye. “Are you really trying to tell me that the soapbox you preach from was built by the likes, comments, and subscriptions of my stans?”

“I’m not denying that (G)I-DLE’s been a major contributing factor in my growth,” you say, struggling to subdue the smirk attempting to tug at the corner of your lips. “But genuinely, you are just a stepping stone and I’m moving up. It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?!” she repeats, laughter fully unleashed as she stares at you incredulously. “Stop, it’s so much worse when you lie to both of us.”

“Listen sunshine,” you begin, feeling the smirk seize control as you watch her eye twitch in loathing. “We could have a nice therapeutic conversation where you lie on the big couch between us and I chronicle your odyssey of misdeeds.” You stand, making your way towards the same spot on the wall where you’d waited for her. “Or we could just leave and go back to the silence. Not sure what else we’re here for.”

As you turn and your back hits the wall once more, you see the intensity and intent in her eyes as she closes the distance. You see her muscles tense, you see her arm raise, and you know full well the slap is coming long before it makes contact. But you need no omniscience to identify the most interesting outcome, so you present your left cheek and enjoy the echoes as they reverberate throughout the enclosed space.

“You know, that wasn’t personal,” she says, shaking out her hand like the force of the impact caused her pain too. “Only deserved.”

“Probably,” you admit, savoring the sanguine sensation slowly seeping out behind your smile. “There are probably a couple dozen legitimate reasons to slap me—it’s just a shame that none of them are the one you chose.”

“God fucking damnit,” she growls, low voice dipping even deeper as she clenches her fists. “What do you want from me?”

"What do I want from you?" you repeat, letting the question linger in the air for a moment before meeting her fiery gaze head-on. Your heart pounds at a frantic rate, yet you keep your voice steady and unwavering as you continue. “I want you to drop the act. I want you to stop pretending like you’re some sort of hero when you’re the villain in every story told about you.”

“What did I say about believing everything you hear?” she purrs, bits of that casual confidence resurfacing even as you see your words shake her to her core.

“Then tell me something different,” you demand, teeth grinding as the conversation goes nowhere. “Tell me something I can believe, even better if it’s the truth. Look me in the eyes and tell me—from the heart—that I’m wrong.”

“I … I can’t,” she admits, hints of vulnerability creeping into those eyes that burned so bright mere moments ago.

“God fucking damnit,” you growl, voice dipping lower once more. “Then why should I care about anything you have to say?”

“Why do you care in the first place?” she snaps back, voice rising with anger. “I don’t remember asking you to stick your nose into my life and threaten everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve!”

The silence weighs heavily on you both, growing more and more deafening as each passing second leaves an impact crater on your eardrum. You have so many reasons—all these puzzle pieces within your mind—yet you can’t seem to assemble a decent response. You’re both just stuck here, with all this emotion and no fucking answers to show for it. Instead, you search, staring into those blazing eyes as if the darkness within hides the truths you’ve been searching for. But in this hell you find no revelations, only the pain you’ve only ever found in your reflection. All you see is the slow infusion of crimson into her visage, the part of her lips as her pained exhalations batter your heaving chest. Your eyes never leave hers, and hers nearly mirror yours. Nearly. She cracks for a single moment—a mere second where her stare flicks down unconsciously. And it’s all the signal you need to capitalize on your chosen position.

With her frame, it truly is as easy as playing with a doll to flip your positions, pinning her against the wall as you tower over her. Her eyes widen with surprise, then narrow with expectation. You slam one hand against the wall, granting you additional leverage and knocking her even further off guard as you lean in, cupping her chin with your other hand and tilting her head up. When your lips first meet, there’s no cliches—no fireworks going off and no chorus accompanying the moment. There’s only friction and the insistent sensation of her pillowy lips against the firm control of your own. The kiss is far from gentle; passionate, yes, but not the sensual, romantic passion that others who use that word would think of. Emotions—ones that are similar, not identical—clash against one another as your tongues find each other and she tastes the metallic tang of the blood she’s spilled.

You thank whoever’s listening for well-tailored clothes as your hand leaves her chin and begins to explore, tracing her collarbone before gliding your fingertips across the bare skin of her arm. You leave goosebumps in your wake as you venture further down to her waistline and under her shirt, nails gently dragging across the toned muscles of her abs and the taut skin concealing her ribcage and hammering heart. Your hand doesn’t even have to slide under her bra for you to earn a moan, slipping past her inhibitions and feeding directly into your ego as you graciously decide to grant her request for escalation. You take advantage of your already slightly bent knees as you raise one between her legs, slipping your thigh past her own as you grind it against her sex and send her pleasure receptors into overdrive. So needy, you whisper, lips ghosting over her jawline as your breaths carry the words into her very soul. We’re barely in the opening measure, and you’re nearly ready for a crescendo.

The resentment in her eyes would hit much harder if she could maintain even a modicum of control, but with the way your knee’s grinding against her sopping heat, you almost manage to muster a miniscule smidgen of sympathy. Almost. Maybe you’ll find it elsewhere. You begin your brazen search, sending your second hand under her shirt and beginning to knead at her hints of breasts as you elicit moans so sinful they'd make Lucifer blush. Even as your knee rises further—its grinding growing in intensity as it pushes her onto the tips of her toes and you send her head above the clouds—you can’t seem to ensnare her stare. Despite her delirium, her gaze instead darts literally anywhere else, inspecting the bare walls of the austere dressing room as if they're the adorned walls of the fucking Louvre as she desperately avoids meeting your eyes. Desperately avoids confirming what her moans have already spoiled. Desperately avoids giving you the credit you know damn well you deserve.

“Come on baby, don’t be like this. You should know it’s so much worse when you lie to both of us.”

Her moans morph into growls as she desperately attempts to catch her breath, trying in vain to fuel her fire while still finding a way to respond. Anything to smother your smugness and wipe out the whispers. “F-fuck off, aren’t there more important things that mouth should be doing?”

Your wild smile widens—nearly to the point of lunacy—as you continue to lead her towards the edge. “Maybe if you ask nicely. A princess like you should know how to speak properly.”

“Fuck off you—fuck!”

Any eloquence remaining within her addled mind is whisked away alongside her scraps of breath as your teeth latch into the crook of her neck, biting with just enough force to mark her without actually breaking the skin. Her mewling in response is both maddening and mesmerizing, magnifying both her mania and magnetism as you devour another sensitive area and amplify your assault on her psyche. Simply continuing your current misdeeds is enough to heighten the tension even further, allowing you the freedom to do as you please. You give her everything she wants, and then a bit more. You give her what she didn’t want, remaining silent for countless seconds as you mark her skin and allow her the opportunity to speak. All she can offer in response are gasps and hiccups and moans—anything to stay coherent enough to experience this ecstasy. Interwoven amongst that need is her want, fragments of phrases and fuck and I and you and oh God and I’m and OH GOD and OH GOD FUCK.

“Yes sweetheart, I know just how badly you wish this could last forever, but we’re on the clock for a reason,” you drawl, dragging your incisor along her throbbing vein up to her jawline. “So why don’t you drop the act and be the good little slut you’re dying to be?” The lightest of kisses placed upon her jaw, the type a fool could misinterpret as affectionate. “Babble whatever you like, but we both know that the truth is already stained into my slacks.” Another—upon her cheek this time. “So just do it.” On her earlobe. “Give in.” Behind her ear. “Cum.” Into her heart.

Her eyes flare with fury for the briefest moments before her tremors tell all and her nails dig into your arms. You hear the desperation she’s been choking back this entire time finally break through as her grip on you tightens, her world goes dark, and she sinks her teeth into your shoulder. She sobs, shaking like a lone leaf amidst the storm as you waltz into her vault of core memories and claim your rightful spot atop them all.

In the following moments, the only thing stopping silence from settling in is the intensity of her breathing as she desperately attempts to calm her thunderous heartbeat and collect her thoughts. As for her pride ...

"Fuck."

The lone word lingers in the air, only heightening the tension as mental fog and fatigue prevent her from relighting the fire that had recently burned so bright. You wait as her breath catches once more and she chokes down oxygen, savoring the silence in the interim. While your patience has often paid off, that’s not why you refuse to speak up now. No, it’s because you know the truth that she’ll never admit—the truth that each moment of recovery acts as further recognition of your performance. So yeah, you’re willing to wait. You may be rock hard and yet to be pleasured, but your ego has been stroked sufficiently enough for seventy centuries, so why not bask in the afterglow?

Once she musters enough mettle to match your gaze, you can’t tell whether she wants to murder or mount you immediately. Likely both. She opens her mouth to speak, but you cut her off with a response, showing her the truth—the higher priority. You show her the time: 6:52. Two minutes until she needs to be back. She immediately understands, and you allow her the room to escape the wall she’s been pinned against. As you make sure the room is in order, she utilizes one of the mirrors to craft her best impression of composure. This time, both of you finish simultaneously, and she turns to leave unceremoniously.

“Wait.” Despite having every reason not to, she stops, listening to your command and turning to face you. You have no words that need to be spoken, but you toss her your scarf, just in case. She nods in understanding, then sighs in realization. Because you’ve helped make sure that no one else will find out. But you’ve also reminded her that she’ll never forget what happened here.

“Daejejeon?” she asks, curiosity peeking through as she references the upcoming music festival.

“And the afterparty,” you affirm, confirming her intrigue and your New Year’s Eve plans.

“I’ll see you then,” she declares as she turns to depart.

“I’ll see you then,” you call out to the retreating form. “You’ll see me much sooner than that.”

A lone finger is her only response. The singular nature of the gesture elicits a chuckle as you begin your own exit down a different path, knowing full well that you’ll be monopolizing her dreams for at least a few nights. And as you exit the building to view the vast darkness overhead, you can’t help but wonder what secrets await you in the silent hours of the next six nights.

Only one way to find out.

Continued in Act Two …

(Special shoutouts to @braaan and @passingnotions for their insights and the time they chose to invest into this fic, I will always be so, so thankful for your support. To you, the reader, I offer both my sincerest appreciation for your patience and a promise that there’s much more to come if you’re willing to continue forth. Yuqi shows up far more frequently moving forward, and there might even be a pretty little powder keg to add in a bit of extra color. Only one way to find out.)

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #idol x reader #idol x male reader #yuqi smut #yuqi fanfic #gidle yuqi #gidle #yuqi #song yuqi #slow burn

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