The plane ride was, as all cross-continental flights were, long and boring. Once the take-off was over, and she could no longer marvel at the world spiralling out beneath her, there wasn't much else to do. Add on a broken TV, a crying child, and a seat next to a massive weightlifter, and you end up with a very tense and pissed off Skye. The only good thing about the flight was the sympathetic stewardess who kept sneaking the little bottles of wine to her.

The landing (bumpy though it was) was practically a god send, and Skye found herself crawling over the weightlifter and his equally huge friend beside him so she could get to the aisle first. They cast her curious looks, but then, Skye received those so often that she barely even noticed anymore. Courtesy of her South Korean father, she had the delicate bone structure and pale skin one might expect. However, her Canadian mother had passed on bottle blue iris's and dark auburn hair. Obviously there was something iffy about the genetics there, but Skye had never been one to doubt herself. If someone had a problem with the way she looked they could damn well say it to her face. 

Once she'd collected her bag off the carousel, she cast her eyes to her surroundings, knowing that she wouldn't find a Tim Horton’s coffee anywhere, but her Canadian upbringing wouldn't give up hope. She followed signs (and the slow moving herd of people) to the exit, only occasionally elbowing men in suits who obviously felt that they could cut in front of her. Outside, basking in the late afternoon glow, she found the car her mother had insisted on. A driver hopped to his feet at her arrival, smoothly sliding her bags into the trunk, and setting off to drive her to her new home.

He seemed a little skittish, and that alone had Skye suspicious. Her mother would never have hired this man, so why was he still casting her those sideways looks like she was going to murder him in any second? And then, when he pulled up to the curb and had the bags at her feet before she could even properly move away from the car, she knew. He’d already driven off, obviously having been forewarned about what her reaction may be.

Her new home was not one that she had suggested. Not even close. A spiteful glance at it and Skye knew that her father had a hand in this. Because as particular as her mother was, she was a fairly grounded and down-to-earth person. Her father, on the other hand, had a lavish and luxurious taste, which was the only way that Skye's apartment could have ended up being a in ing high-rise building in the middle of ing Gangnam.

"Why the is my place in Gangnam?" Skye had refused to step foot in the place, and was sitting on the opposite curb eyeing the building with distaste. It had taken three calls plus a firm, slightly threatening, but polite message to the PA before her mother had picked up the phone.

"Language. Anyway you'll have to take that up with your father-"

"You said YOU were going to take care of it, I sent you links and everything-"

"I'm a very busy person Haneul, I can't be doing everything-"

"Then why didn't you let me do it like I wanted-"

"It's a lovely place, your fathers been very generous, try and be grateful for once."

Skye scowled at the now-disconnected call. Then decided, it, I'll deal with this tomorrow. Shoving down her pride, she dragged her bags into the building, ignoring the looks of shock that were sent her way. A reflective wall showed Skye that she looked a disaster: her clothes were wrinkled, her hair might as well have been a nest, and her expression was murderous. The people here were obviously not used to someone looking like her entering their shiny new building. Skye made note to stomp her feet extra hard in hope that she might make a few muddy footprints. She called down the elevator, thankfully empty except for her, and made the endless journey up to the 18th floor where apartment 1807 sat nestled in the corner.

The inside was neat, even Skye had to admit that. It was all clean lines and glass and steel and brushed stone countertops. Everything had an air of expensive modernism to it, and there was a faint floral scent in the air. It was already fully furnished, and everything was in pale neutrals like browns and beiges. Leaving her big suitcase by the door, she lugged her carry-on past a study, a bathroom (with a godly looking tub that she would put to good use), and into the master bedroom. The fluffy pillows and floor length mirror faded into the background as Skye saw a sliding glass door which was the first thing in the whole building to stir up some excitement in her instead of curdling her nose at the expense.

Is that a...balcony!! Yes!!

Ok, the rest of the apartment might be tacky and overpriced, but this corner balcony was gorgeous. The railing was a clear plexi-glass like material, so she could see the view unhindered, and what a view it was. She could only imagine the beauty of it when the city was lit up at night.

But that was all something Skye could admire another day. For now, her nerves were still itching from the injustice of this stupid overpriced ludicrous apartment. She had to go out, she had things to tend to out there.

So half an hour later, Skye was stepping out of the shower feeling a lot better now that she'd washed the plane ride off of her. She was halfway through rummaging through her suitcase for clothes when there was a sharp knocking at her front door. Securing the fluffy baby blue towel around her, Skye opened the door to the hallway, looking at the man stood there with a muffin in his hands.

She barely contained her laughter. Whatever reason he'd come knocking, he hadn't been expecting a girl in a towel with water dripping from her hair. He was actively avoiding looking at her as he pushed the muffin forward, "I heard you move in earlier, I live next door, I thought you might like a muffin, you know, in case you were hungry."

Skye smiled, taking the treat, "you're such a sweetheart, I'm Skye."

"Kim Junmyeon." He shook her hand, but gently, not the strong Canadian man “I drive a truck” grip she was used to, this guy seemed to actually care if she was able to use her fingers after. "I live next door, so if you need anything I'd be happy to help. And if I'm not around, my friend Lu Han lives on your other side, so you can talk to him too. A-anyway, I'll let you get back to your... Erm..."

"Thanks a lot Junmyeon," Skye took mercy on the blushing boy, and he waved goodbye as he skittered away to apartment 1806.

As she nibbled on the blueberry muffin and walked back to her bedroom, the glass door of Skye's balcony was on fire with the sunset and that was her cue to start getting dressed. Her flight clothes were dumped in the hamper, the light pastels of her respectable life wrinkled and forgotten. Had she not just arrived and had been actually going out, the clothes she donned would have been nowhere near as acceptable. However, she only had an errand to run, so she settled for jeans and a black top. A trusty black leather jacket covered her upper half anyway, and doc martins that were scuffed and old, but still solid non-the-less. Stuffing some cash in her bra (and removing the Canadian bills that were already there) and she was set to go.

Locking her apartment door and securing the key in the zip pocket inside her jacket, she knocked on the door of her friendly neighbour.

"Hi Junmyeon," she chirped, "I'm going out to explore the city for a bit, anywhere you think I should stay away from? Where bad people hang out and all that?"

"Erm, well, probably stay on this side of Gangnam, past the other side gets a little weird. But if you want I can come with you? Or show you around tomorrow when it's light?"

Obviously he was nervous about her walking at night alone.

"Such chivalry, but no thanks, I'm ok. See you around Jun."

Despite the time of year, the air outside was chilly, the sky a dark indigo as the suns last rays clung to the horizon. The streets were littered with stragglers heading home after a long day, but becoming less so with the further she walked. She headed directly towards the area Junmyeon had warned against, because the places she was warned against were generally the places she thrived.

The change was a subtle one. The gentle glow of street lights became the harsh glare of neon, the curious glances became looks up and down. This was where she belonged, because if there was a place she felt at home, it wasn't in the comfortable middle class she'd been raised in, not even the clean lines and glass walls of her university. It was in the darkness of the underground world, in rooms filled with bitter smoke and battered pool tables and hard challenging looks. This was a world where it didn't matter who you were, or what you looked like, or where you came from, it was all about what you could do and what you earned for yourself. Here you lived or died on your own merit, and that was a starkness she couldn't find above ground.

Right now, she wasn’t out for a night on the town. She wasn't looking for trouble, or to get involved in anything, she was looking for a car park. She'd had to be subtle about getting this done without her mother knowing, but it was something Skye couldn't live without. She'd found a guy online to receive the order and leave it near her address.

Her phone told her she was in the right place, her motorbike should be around here somewhere... A hint of glossy blue caught her eye, and her blood started boiling when she saw a dark haired figure crouched beside it, fiddling with the engine. A group of guys were stood off to the side of him, but they barely took notice of her as she strode to the one messing with her bike.

They only took notice as she yanked on the boys shoulder, turning his face towards her, and then her fist connected with his nose in a sick thud.

"What the !" The boy stood from where he'd fallen, and Skye realised that although he was thin, he was considerably taller than her. She was 5’6, a smidge taller than average in Canada, but she barely came to this boys chin. Even so, she wasn’t one to be deterred.

"Get the off my bike." Skye retorted, and he raised a thick brow,

"This is your bike?"

"Obviously." She said, taking a stance in front of it.

His hand lowered from where he'd been pinching the bridge of his straight nose. His eyes did the customary glance over her body, lingering where a boys eyes have tendency to linger, before he met her gaze with a cocky smirk. "You're not from around here. Where you from?"

"Little place called out of your league, ever heard of it?"

He ignored the annoyance in her tone and stepped forward, standing almost chest to chest with her. His cologne wafted over her, dark and dangerous, and his hair fell over his eyes as he looked down at her. "Your Korean's good, but you can't hide that accent. You American?" His eyes were twinkling with amusement and obvious interest as he looked down at her, and god it sent a tingle to her thighs. But her voice was level when she responded,

"I'm from somewhere where we learn not to touch what's not ours. So keep your greasy hands off my bike."

"You're still angry about that? Come on kitten, I was just fixing it, free of charge. I’m Sehun by the way."

She scoffed, turning and squatting by the bike, ignoring his low whistle as he checked out her . It didn't look like he'd done anything too damaging, everything looked in place. Although she couldn't really be sure, she'd always had trouble with engines. Not that she was going to let this jerk know that. Standing back up, she cast a look to the rest of his friends who were still stood in the background, watching the exchange like hyenas.

Sehun was watching her straddle the bike, half amused and half something much darker. "You look pretty comfy riding. You'll have to show me sometime." He leaned down to murmur the words, his voice low and husky and sent shivers down Skye's spine that she ignored.

"I only ride when I’ve got something sturdy between my legs." She smirked at him, "something on a street corner might be more at your level."  Puckering her lips in a playful-mocking kiss she revved up the bike, kicking up the kickstand and speeding away, seeing him watching her in the mirrors, his dark eyes on her until she was swallowed by darkness.

____________________________________

And there’s our second chapter! Isn’t Sehun gorgeous? (Esp with his dark ‘monster’ hair)