Hana

“You idiot.”

“Lay, please stop telling me things I already know,” I groan, sitting back on the couch and taking the weight off my ankle.

“Then what do you pay me for?”

I roll my eyes at him as he grins, dimple popping against his cheek as he clears the glass off the coffee table in an attempt to make his place more child-friendly. He was more nervous than he should be, because out of all the people that I’ve known, I would probably trust him to take care of kids the most.

“This is going to be complicated.” I place my face in my hands, thinking of just how complicated the ruse would be in order to trick Yoongi. If Lay was a double agent, Yoongi thought Lay worked for him. And Lay had never had to deal with both of us in the room at the same time.

He was between a rock and hard place.

“You better give me a bonus,” Lay mutters under his breath.

“If anyone had any idea how much you earn, I would be cooked on a hot plate,” I yawn. Joking about his salary was normal for us, and even though some people would find it a sensitive topic, somehow it was normal between the two of us.

“Speaking of cooking—”

“Don’t.”

“Jungkook must be cooking and doing everything for you these days.”

I groan, swinging my legs on to the cushions and propping my head on to the arm of the couch. Lay really didn’t have to remind me. After I had stupidly tripped over Namjoon, leaving the both of us with sprained ankles, Jungkook wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was now being driven to and from work, and he wouldn’t let me cook. Today was the first day that I got away from him and his car, and he probably thought that I had gone to work in a taxi.

It was a bit stifling.

As much as I tried to ask questions to figure out what he’s been hiding, I couldn’t. I didn’t really have the right to do so. I was hiding too much from him.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was functioning as normal. He didn’t have someone running after him all the time, and Jimin had just laughed at Namjoon for getting injured when I had tripped over him.

“Lay, tell me how to fix my life.”

“Step one. Stop being Byun Hana.”

“If I could stop being Byun Hana, I would have stopped years ago.”

At that statement, he turns, leaving the cleaning for a few seconds, “Really?”

I nod, more to myself than him, “Byun Hana’s name carries too much weight and people want so much from me. There’s so few people who see me without the business and without the power, and they don’t realize I’m just awkward and have zero understanding of feelings.”

He quirks an eyebrow up.

“Other than you,” I add hastily, lips curling up.

“Do you think that Jungkook sees that?”

Do you think that Jungkook sees that? Do you think that Jungkook sees that? Do you think that Jungkook sees that? The question drums against the inside of my head, slowly sinking in deeper and deeper. “I don’t know,” I murmur after a minute, blinking back at Lay. “I don’t know if he does.”

 “Who does see that?”

“You, Chanyeol, Jimin most of the time, Namjoon even though he’ll act otherwise—”

“But not Jungkook?”

“Sometimes I feel like he wants to push the business aspect of my life away, but that’s become a part of me. I think he wants me to compartmentalize my life. And I can’t do that. The awkwardness, the business, it’s all part of me even though I don’t wish for it. You, Chanyeol, Jimin, and Namjoon seem to get that, even if it’s subconsciously.”

Lay looks serious as he drops on to the couch, casting his feather duster—which really didn’t fit his image—aside. “Then be engaged to Jimin.”

I snort at that. I don’t think anyone who had seen his awkward phase growing up would be able to do that. Besides, I am still irritated with Jimin.

“Are there any others? Because I could probably guess all of those people. Including your uncertainty about Jungkook.”

Lay knew me too well. But, are there any others? A certain man flashes against my thoughts, almost as a flicker and I freeze, swallowing against my suddenly dry throat. I had somehow missed the most obvious one of all. Who else would understand how I had to run a business than a competitor? Who else would understand how ridiculously awful I was than the man I used to sit in a hospital room with.

Who else had seen the Byun Hana that I usually hid away?

There was only one right answer. And that answer scared me. Of all people, why did it have to be Min Yoongi?
 

Suga

The Aston Martin was back in my possession, and although I wanted to drive it, it was a bad idea if Ahyeon was going to come along when she was discharged. Lay had sent me his address, and I was confused. Why would I stop there before trying to figure out what to do with Ahyeon?

And Hana. It was like she had dropped off the face of the Earth. I had texted her, and even called her, but I heard nothing. She left me with my hands full and unsure of what to do. What should I have expected, really?

We were on opposite sides. And that would follow us regardless if we became friends or not. And if people found that we were spending time around each other, we would be done for. The stocks for both of our companies would plummet because people would lose faith that we would keep innovating against the constant pressure of each other.

But I was more surprised that I was able to sign Ahyeon out of the hosp