The next morning was a chaotic shuffle as soon as Namjoon sounded the alarm, going down the line of beds to ensure everyone was awake. Almost immediately, I noticed several of the guys started stripping down to change right there by their beds. Like a magnet, my eyes were drawn to Hobie’s abdomen as he struggled to get his shirt off over his head. Damn, I immediately thought to myself, feeling like a total creep as I struggled to tear my eyes away before he could notice. To my horror, I felt a pang of regret for not scanning the rest of the room. Red faced, I squeaked past Taehyung and his bed to scramble into the back room, but I paused when I caught sight of Taehyung’s face. His mouth hung open slightly, his eyes relaxed but fixated. I didn’t need to follow his gaze to know what he was looking at. I supposed even to his fellow men, Hobie’s body was worth gawking at. Shaking off the distraction, I headed quickly to my bathroom to get ready. Day three and I was nowhere near used to living with these guys. Leaning against the closed bathroom door, I took a long breath. I needed to get myself under control. There was no way this would be the last time I snuck a peek at my roommates. All I could hope for was that one of these days I would just get used to it and be wholly unaffected. Yeah, right.

Once I had changed into another set of identical clothing, choosing shorts over pants today (woo choices!), I nonchalantly strolled through the door back to the main hallway, relieved to find that they were all either fully clothed or momentarily absent. Soon enough, everyone appeared ready to go, milling about aimlessly waiting for direction. “Alright everyone,” Namjoon’s voice finally rose to his authoritative leader tone, “let’s head out.”

We all shuffled out the creaky main door. “Yah I should just take those hinges apart,” I heard Yoongi grumble as I passed him as he held the door for the rest of us. I couldn’t help but smile a little as I lagged behind the rest of them, waiting for Yoongi. He had proven to be a fantastic source of information and very tolerant of me in general. Once he had closed the heavy door, he turned, jumping slightly when he saw me. Clearly he hadn’t expected me to wait for him. He gave me a little smile, but it felt a bit restrained, causing my heart to sink a little. Perhaps he wasn’t as accepting of me as I had initially thought. “I know you’re not going to like this,” he finally spoke as he began to walk with me along the dirt path, just a few paces behind the rest of the pack, “but when we’re in front of the officials, you should at least pretend to be smitten with Jungkook.”

“Ah,” I slumped my shoulders slightly. So that’s what the issue was, “I’m not sure that’s going to work. He’s not exactly fond of me, either,” I pointed out.

“He’s a decent actor,” Yoongi sighed as he spoke the words, “And he knows what he needs to do. Just,” he paused, glancing at me as we continued to walk, “play along if you can. Just maybe,” his sad eyes looked away for a brief moment, “you guys can work something out.”

I nodded silently, letting my eyes linger on Yoongi’s apologetic face for a moment longer before his encouraging nod prompted me to pick up my face, jogging to catch up with the rest of the group. I fell into step with the rest of them, and we walked silently along an unfamiliar path in the direction Namjoon had warned me not to follow. It vaguely reminded me of The Lion King heading to the elephant graveyard, and a twinge of fear shot down my spine. We must have been close because Namjoon slowed, filtering past the rest of his friends to walk with me. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but-“

I cut him off, “Yoongi told me,” I spoke curtly, “I’m madly in love with Jungkook,” my voice remained deadpan, my mouth twitching into a little frown.

Namjoon was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he offered weakly, making me feel a touch guilty for snapping at him.

“It’s okay,” I sighed a little, “I understand. As long as he knows that, too.”

“He does,” Namjoon spoke quietly, but I saw him shift uncomfortably as we walked, “And if it isn’t working, it wouldn’t look too strange if you stuck with me.”

“Thanks,” I breathed a little, “but I’ll try my best.”

As expected, we arrived shortly to what could only be described as a shoddy construction site. Like a ghost, Jungkook was suddenly at my side, and I tried not to flinch visibly when our eyes met. He, too, looked away quickly. “We can do this,” he spoke quietly, his voice taking me completely by surprise. Above all else, the fact that he acknowledged our mutual suffering was a pleasant detail I wasn’t expecting. I found myself glancing at his downcast face without feeling any anger or fear. Once again I reminded myself it wasn’t his fault.

“Yeah,” I replied, trying to sound encouraging, “we can.”

Jungkook finally met my eyes, and he had one eyebrow raised skeptically. It was the first intentional eye contact we had made since our first meeting. I offered a small smile of truce, but he returned no such gesture. Regardless, just being able to hold his dark eyes for more than a fleeting moment was a milestone in and of itself. I had forgotten how young he looked with his rounded nose and large eyes. He really was just like me.

The seven of us strode to the site where three well-dressed older men were waiting. “Ah right on time, as usual Namjoon,” one of the spoke boisterously, offering his hand to Namjoon, who graciously took it and bowed low. “Very good, very good,” the man’s loud and deep voice rang out again as he let Namjoon go to inspect the rest of us. “Ah ha,” he grinned when he approached Jungkook and I. I felt Jungkook quickly lash out his hand, awkwardly taking mine. Continuing to look up into the official’s face with a polite smile, I noted his greasy hair and pallid skin. “Parents of our next generation of leader, what an honor,” the man took my free hand and shook it vigorously.

“Likewise,” Jungkook replied seamlessly, and I looked to him as he smiled. It was an incredibly fake smile, his lips still pressed tightly together, but apparently it was good enough, seeing as the official moved on to Taehyung, and I got distracted by Namjoon quickly explaining that his younger friend wasn’t feeling well and had lost his voice. I had to bite back a chuckle at the smooth cover story. Jungkook gave a gentle tug on my hand, leading me toward the building frame. “I bet you could get away with just sitting nearby,” he spoke once we had separated ourselves from the rest of the bodies, dropping my hand like a hot brick.

“As if,” I scoffed quietly, and was surprised to hear an amused huff from Jungkook. “What are we even expected to do anyway?”

He looked around, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes, “Well, it looks like the framework is mostly done. Maybe wiring and insulation.”

And that was the end of our conversation. We settled quietly into a system where I assembled various fixtures, handed them off to Jungkook, and he would affix them to whatever cross beam needed it. At various points, I considered striking up the conversation again, but I wasn’t sure if that would make things easier or harder on us in the long run. On the one hand, avoiding him all the time was awkward and inconvenient considering our living space. On the other, even if we got to know each other, we would still have to do our nightly duty, and making that any more personal than it was would only be awkward and potentially more damaging. I had the feeling that disliking me definitely made it easier for him. In the end, I decided to just be glad that we were coexisting comfortably in relatively close proximity.

“Jeon Jungkook and Yoo Seoyeon,” a short, portly man approached us just as I was handing off another set of metal brackets I had just assembled. The use of my Korean name caught me off guard. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jungkook’s face fall slightly. He clearly recognized this man. Following Jungkook’s lead, I faced the man and bowed politely. “Ah, Jungkook, she might not be the ravishing beauty your previous partners were, but she is still quite pretty, isn’t she?”

Again, Jungkook took my hand. He squeezed it- hard. To be honest, I didn’t need the reminder to keep my tongue in check, but I found the gesture something of a comfort anyway. “On the contrary,” Jungkook responded smoothly and quickly, “Seoyeon here is incredibly beautiful and delightfully intelligent.” My eyebrows involuntarily rose. I was impressed with his silver tongue and quit wit.

“Well then,” the man coughed, his face screwing up into an uncomfortable and ugly expression, “let us hope you produce a worthy heir this time, hm Jungkook? Maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll be happy enough with it to keep you together a bit longer for some full blooded siblings.”

Jungkook bowed slightly in response, “Of course, sir.”

“Now,” the man turned to me, and once again Jungkook increased the pressure on my hand. “I read your file,” he spoke to me slowly, “How fortunate for you to have kept your Korean citizenship despite those child thieves taking you to that dreadful country.”

From an outsider’s perspective, it probably looked like Jungkook and I were in a competition to see who could break whose hand first. This man’s scathing remarks that managed to insult me, my parents, and my home country in one fell swoop sent the hair on my neck prickling uncomfortably against my skin. “How fortunate indeed,” I spoke through gritted teeth, “to be returned to my rightful home.”