I'm back! here's a somewhat long chapter to atone for the months I was away. Missed you guys!

“Human?” Chaeri scoffs at the plea. “I can’t believe you’re spouting that crap again.”

“You don’t get it,” Himchan says. “I told you. I can’t live like this. And I know I’m being abrasive, asking you for a favor after hurting you … “ he trails off, remembering the way his teeth slid into her, remembering both the satisfaction and repulsion that had taken over, “… but I can’t live like this. I’d rather die than be this.”

“It’s not so bad,” she reasons, “living like this.”

Himchan hears the unspoken motto in her words. “It’s not so bad”, she said. It is what it is. There’s nothing anyone can do about it, so one might as well live with it. There’s no such thing as choice in a world split by day and night. There’s only sacrifice.

“You may be fine with it, but I’m not. I can’t do it. Sure, I’ve been with a lot of girls, conquered a lot of businesses. I’ve accomplished incredible feats in the short amount of time that I’ve been a Daver. But this isn’t living, Chaeri. It’s hell, feeding on people when you don’t want to, knowing you’re a murderer – “

“You’re not killing anyone by taking their blood.”

“Then why do I feel so guilty?” Himchan roughly exclaims. “Why do I feel like I’ve killed an entire generation?”

“You’ve spent your whole life using people, and now you’re upset because you’ve found a new way to use them?”

“No,” Himchan replies. “I’m upset because I’ve misused myself.”

Chaeri grimly observes him as he winces in pain. A wave of hunger must have passed over him. She sees the way he involuntarily glances at her. She also sees the way he hates himself for it.

“There’s a man who might be able to help you,” she mumbles. “I don’t know if it’s even possible to do what you want to do. But if anyone knows, it’s him.”

“What’s his name?” Himchan’s hands slam down onto her shoulders, his nails gripping the edges of her frame. “Where can I find him?”

“He works at the bar with all the Nivers and Davers. And I only know him as the Tender.”

“Can you take me to him?”

Chaeri carefully pries his fingers off of her. “Tonight. We’ll go together.”

Nana is on her phone when she sees Sehun walk across the street. She nearly drops the mobile device and spills the hot coffee she had been holding. She hadn’t seen him since they last ate dinner together, and that had been several days ago. After having made the decision not to look for him, she had stopped calling his phone; yet here she is, running into him when she isn’t even trying.

“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Nana slides her phone into her pocket.

“It’s late to be taking a walk.”

“Sehun.” She switches the coffee cup to her other hand. “H – how are you? I haven’t seen you since – “

“The dinner?”

“Um … yes. I tried calling you, but – “

“I dropped my phone.”

“Oh. I see.”

Nana takes a sip of her coffee, holding back a shout when the scalding liquid breaches her tongue.

“Listen,” he says. His eyes, as always, are incomprehensible. “I need to talk to y – “

“How have you been?”

He blinks. “With what?”

“Those pills you talked about. Are they working?”

“They always do.”

“That’s good.” She clears . “Well, if you aren’t doing anything at the moment, I’m about to – “

“I don’t want you to talk to me anymore.”

Nana tightens her grip around her cup. “Somehow, I wasn’t surprised to hear that.”

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“I don’t think I know you at all.”

“So let’s keep it that way.” Sehun moves backward, involuntarily stepping into the beam of a lamplight. He squints. “I can’t talk to you for long. I’m already pushing it as it is.”

“I wish you’d be honest with me, Sehun.” She switches the cup back to the previous hand. Her other hand was beginning to get clammy. “I’m not going to pretend to understand. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But I’ll listen. God, I’ll listen.” She laughs quietly. “That’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“I’m sorry.” He turns around, starts walking away, and for some reason Nana feels afraid – so desperately afraid. That she’ll lose him. That she’ll lose herself. Somehow, in between all the words they exchanged and the time they traded, she had given him a part of herself she only gave to her poems and her books. She had given him an opportunity. And whereas books and poems only displayed that opportunity, Sehun was the one who actually noticed it was there.

But he ignored it. He ignored her, and she doesn’t want to be ignored anymore. She’s tired of a life where she’s always being left behind. So she runs after him.

“Sehun.” She drops her coffee, grabs his hand, pulls him to a stop. “Tell me the truth. I won’t tell anyone.”

He glances at the discarded cup, where the liquid slowly fans out across the pavement. “No.”

“I don’t care if you’re a monster. You always paint yourself as one, some awful nightmare, but I don’t think you are. You don’t believe me, do you? I promise you that you aren’t a monster. And if you are … I want you to know there’s a monster in all of us.” She smiles timidly. “So there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Bit by bit, she strips away every defense he’s put up. Every time he builds a new one, she tears it down, as if it were made of paper maché. Maybe for once, he’ll let her see what he’s like on the inside. If he shows her what she wants, perhaps she’ll go away. That’s all people ever want in life. They just want to feed their own self-satisfaction.

“What if your life becomes a nightmare because of me?”

Nana releases his hand. “You said it yourself. Nightmares only last for so long.”

It takes every bit of willpower in Sehun not to sink his teeth into her neck, but he holds back. He holds back because if he does, there’s a chance she’ll make him better. He’s not entirely sure that’s what he wants right now, but that’s the route he has to take. She’s never going to leave him alone if he doesn’t do this.

“Let’s go.” He holds his hand out, palm up. Slowly, she takes his offer and follows him.

“This place. I’ve been here before.”

Himchan stares up at the bar sign, surprised to see that the faded colors and the outdated font are familiar to him. He used to frequent this place before he met Chaeri. In fact, if he remembers correctly, he was at this bar the night he saw Chaeri for the second time. “This is where your Tender works?”

“Yes.” Chaeri waits for him to open the door before continuing. “This is a popular place for our two worlds to collide. As a result, this is where he is stationed.”

“This man. Do you know him well?”

“I met him once.” She scans the counters, searching for the correct bar tender. It’s a busy night. Nearly every seat is taken. “That was a long time ago.”

Himchan finds an empty stool at the bar. “Do you want to sit down? I’ll order us drinks.”

“No. I don’t want to see him.” She notices the back of a man at the farthest counter, a rag hooked over his shoulder. He turns around briefly, and Chaeri immediately recognizes his face. “That’s him, with the rag. I’ll wait outside.”

“Wait,” he stops her. He doesn’t know why, but apprehension is clogging his throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

She snickers. “You always know what to say. You’re a player, aren’t you? This is your playing field. Make your move.”

“The Tender isn’t a woman, Chaeri. I don’t make moves on men.”

“Perfect time to get in some training, then.” She winks. “I’ll be outside. Take as long as you want.”

Himchan watches her go, unsure whether he should follow her and call it a night or drag her back with him. He shouldn’t be this hesitant, not when he’s already gone this far. After days of confusion, an opportunity has finally opened up, and this man, this Tender, could potentially answer every one of his questions. He needs to know the truth  - about his present, about his future, and about his past.

“Excuse me,” he calls out to the bar tender. “I’d like a drink.”

Himchan observes the man as he draws near to him. He’s a tall guy, with a well-built frame and a hard jaw. He appearance is menacing, yet when he opens his mouth and grins, his eyes crinkle like an old man’s.

“What would you like to drink?”

“My name is Himchan. I was told you could tell me how to be human again.”

The Tender’s grin fades away. “No drink?”

“I need information. I need you to help me.”

“I can’t help you. I’m sorry.” He turns away, starts wiping at a glass cup that’s already clean, but Himchan calls him out once more.

“I know you can. Chaeri told me about you. She said if anyone knew, it would be you.” The Tender pauses. He’s listening. Encouraged, Himchan adds, “I don’t want to be a Daver anymore. I want to be human.”

The Tender sets the glass aside and returns to Himchan. Relieved that he’s decided to help, Himchan takes a deep breath, ready to satisfy every curiosity the Tender might have; but then the Tender leans in closely, his frame towering over Himchan, his expression retiring into intimidation. “Even if I told you, it wouldn’t be possible.”

“I’m sure it isn’t that hard. You people are so ambiguous. Every last one of you likes to talk in riddles. Does no one here speak casually?”

“It isn’t easy to explain the world you live in.” The Tender takes a pitcher of water and pours it into the glass cup. “Take a look around you. What do you see?”

At his suggestion, Himchan observes the bar. At first, his eyes gravitate to the adjacent club, which, back when he was a womanizer, used to be his gold mine for young, rich girls. Until tonight, he had never really taken note of the bar. It always seemed like a lousy excuse for one. The music was cheesy, the decorations were tacky, and the lighting was dim. If he were the owner, he would have renovated this a long time ago and turned it into an extension of the club.

“Many Nivers and Divers come here when they want to feed,” the Tender explains. “And unsuspecting humans who come here to have a good time, fall trap to their demands. I’m here to regulate traffic. If Nivers or Davers want to feed, that’s their business. It becomes an issue when they target specific people, or they begin to endanger these humans. Which is why we offer them pills.” The Tender pulls out a bottle of pills from beneath the counter. Himchan recognizes them to be the same ones Chaeri had given him. “It helps subside the craving.”

“So you’re a drug dealer.”

“Not at all,” the Tender frowns. “This isn’t an illegal business. In the world you and I live in, this is common. It’s over-the-counter drugs.”

“I still don’t get what you’re trying to show me,” Himchan persists. “That’s great, you make pills that help people. That’s not what I want.” Distressed, he heaves a sigh. “Look, I don’t want to take pills for the rest of my life. I want to smoke a cigar and it actually burn my lungs. I want to drink water and have it actually quench my thirst. I don’t care about this drug business of yours, or the people you manage. I just want answers.” Himchan unfolds his wallet and begins to count his change. “If I have to pay you, I’ll pay you. Check? Cash? I have that.” He slams $500 on the counter. “I have more where that came from.”

“Put that away. People are staring at you.”

Himchan glances at the strangers nearby. He hadn’t realized he had been talking so loud. They eye his money hungrily. Himchan returns it to his wallet before the wrong hands snatch it away.

“I’ll tell you what you want to know, but you won’t like it.”

“If I were daunted by my distaste for the truth, I wouldn’t have come here.”

The Tender lets out a short laugh. “I wish my friend could have met you. He would have liked you.” The Tender leans back and folds his arms. “All right, listen. You’re a Daver, so your body works differently than Nivers do. You’re able to endure the sun longer, and you can’t turn people. This means you’re a half-blood. When a Niver bites a human, his fangs secret a toxin that reconstructs its immune system. To be human again, you need that toxin purged from your blood system.”

“So how do I get it out? Do I take some sort of medicine? Do you have something for that?”

“No,” the Tender says, “And this is where it can get complicated. You have to find the man that bit you and let him drink your blood again. Only the Niver who turned you can turn you back.”

Chaeri doesn’t know if the Tender will help Himchan. After what happened last time, she’s not sure the Tender would want to help someone she knows. As strenuous as that situation had been, she admits she had been unfair, so she completely understands if the Tender refuses Himchan’s request. The Tender is kind, but he isn’t that kind.

Chaeri takes out her compact makeup and powders her face. She then uses her red lipstick to perfect the lines of her lips. She presses her lips together and then closes the cap on the lipstick tube.

“Well,” she says aloud to herself. “As always, I look like I could kill a man.”

“Chaeri?”

She raises her head to see Sehun incredulously standing before her. His grey eyes penetrate hers like her fangs once penetrated his skin. It hurts, those lightless eyes of his, so she looks away – but not before she glimpses the girl standing behind him.

“I’m waiting for someone, so don’t mind me,” she croons.

“Sehun?” The girl asks. “Who is that?”

Sehun reaches for Nana’s hand and answers, “My ex-girlfriend.”