The house looked impressive from the outside alone, but my mouth slackened when I stepped inside. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I scoffed. A billiard table to my right, modern furniture everywhere, cozy lighting spotlighting huge photos of him. Egotistical much?

“You live here?”

“Yeah, why?”

Before I could say anything, he pulled the hood of his jacket over my head and began pushing me up the stairs. “Go, go. Let’s go,” he frantically urged.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Got to go upstairs,” was his answer. “Got to go.”

He grabbed my wrist and tugged me to keep up which was kind of hard because I had no idea what was going on and the hood was covering my view. “Stop pulling me!”

“I’m sorry. I just, um--”

“Wait, where are we going?” We didn’t stop climbing the spiral stairs. “Baekhyun!”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know…”

“Don’t know where to hide me?” I finished for him.

“No, I’m not hiding you,” he denied. We finally got to the top floor. “It’s just that I don’t want these particular people to see you right now.” He looked over the railing at the many people below.

“And because I’m not a movie star,” I guessed scornfully.

“No!” Baekhyun looked shocked at my words. “Okay, because I don’t want anyone asking questions and neither do you.”

He put his fist near his mouth to represent a microphone and began to imitate the reporters. “Who is she? Where did you meet her? Are you two dating?” He stuck his imaginary mic out to me.

“Dating?” I echoed, taken aback. What in the world?

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