it's been a while, huh? sorry! i've been SUPER busy! but i will be updating my other fic soon, so bear with me for just a little longer xD thank you guys so much for the support <3
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            I’ve come to a conclusion: I do not like G-Dragon. I especially don’t like him after today. Every corner I turn, I hear his name paired up with mine. There are pictures of us on our date yesterday, and they’re all over the Internet. At first, it was enjoyable because I know the majority of all girls would never get the chance to even talk to him. But now, it’s highly annoying.
            “Everybody’s been talking about your date with G-Dragon yesterday.” Jiyeon says as we make our way out of Mrs. Kim’s class, as if I didn’t know. “Did you guys kiss?”
            I roll my eyes. “I would rather kiss a frog.” I scoff. Trisha opens the door and we make our way out, the warm sun shining down on the beautiful campus. Spring time was the best time: it meant fashion shows—which reminds me, I have to think of a design for the fashion show we were having on Saturday. Mr. DuBois is holding a first-annual fashion show and wants all of his students to create an outfit for it. He has high expectations for my designs, which isn’t surprising. After all, I’m Aubrey Sinclair.
            Out of the blue, I hear Jiyeon gasp. I raise an eyebrow at her as we all stop walking. “G-Dragon…” she says, covering . She raises her finger and my eyes follow, stuck on the tall figure picking up books from the ground.
            “Well well well…” I hear Hyunjoong say. He nudges my arm. “Looks like Follow the Leader is still being played.”
            Jiyong hands the books to Linda ing Park. “You two can leave,” I say to the stooges, not taking my eyes off of the scene. Linda bows to him, giving him a smile. They begin talking, my blood starting to boil. “What the is he even doing here?!” I ask, still keeping my eye on them. Suddenly, they get close—she’s showing him something in her notebook.
            “Maybe he wanted to come and see you,” Hyunjoong says. “Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”
            “He! Is! Not! My! Boyfriend!” I raise my voice with each word.
            “Really? He took you on a date and didn’t even ask you to be his girlfriend?” Hyunjoong asks. I roll my eyes and walk away from him.
            “… with white here an—”
            “Sideline.” I interrupt Jiyong, bobbing my head over to the side.
            “Hey, I was actually going to look for you,” Jiyong says, turning to me and giving me a smile.
            “Well, it sure doesn’t look like it.” I scoff. I bob my head over to the side again. “Sideline.”
            “Okay, just give me a mo—“
            “Did you hear my voice go up at the end? No. Side. Line.” I say, clenching my teeth toward the end. I grab his arm and pull him over, crossing my arms when I face him. “What the hell are you doing?!”
            “Well, I accidentally bumped into Linda. Then she showed me her design for some fashion show you guys are having… Saturday?” he says with uncertainty as he gets to the day. “She asked me to give her some tips on what colors she should use. After all, I am Korea’s fashionista.” he teases, giving a little smirk.
            “No!” I demand. “If anything, you should be helping me!”
            He gives off a chuckle. “Do you really need help? You’re Evelyn Sinclair’s daughter.”
            My blood starts to boil. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, flushing out every word he just said. Just take it as a compliment, Aub. I open my eyes and give him a smile. “You’re right. I am Evelyn Sinclair’s daughter. But that’s not the point.” I say. “The point is, you’re not supposed to be helping her!”
            “You sound like a jealous girlfriend,” he laughs. I let out a bitter laugh.
            “As if,” I scoff. He looks at me for a moment, taking a deep breath afterward.
            “Okay,” he says. “I’m going to finish what I was going to tell her. Then I’ll help you with your design as an apology.” He flashes out a smile. “So when should we set up our next date?”
            I roll my eyes. “We’ll do it at five.” I reply. “And it is not a date!”

            I know what it looks like, but it’s not what it seems. I don’t need his help—I’m Aubrey Sinclair. But I do need him to get away from Linda Park because she can’t have him. And no, it’s not that she can’t have him, she just can’t simply get everything I have. It’s highly annoying!
            Suddenly, there’s a knock on my door. My mother pokes her head through and gives me a smile. “Working on something?” she asks, her eyes obviously scanning the mannequins around me.
            “Yeah. Fashion show Saturday.” I say to her. The question lingering in my stomach crawls up my throat. I swallow it back down.
            “Oh,” she says. “Well, your dad just left to shoot for Jeremy’s new collection and I’m going to head out to a meeting. I called Chef Pierre in to make you dinner.”
            “Sounds good,” I smile, venom burning my lips. She closes the door without another word. I cross my arms and take a deep breath. Sounds splendid, mother. I roll my eyes and I walk over to my camera, looking through my pictures. There were pictures of landscapes in different countries, pictures of different pieces of art—all taken by yours truly, of course. I usually use these for inspiration for my designs, which have always worked out.
            But I can’t feel anything coming from these pictures this time.
            I sigh. Maybe I need more pictures for more inspiration. I set my camera down on the table and walk over to my desk, turning on my laptop. I need to book a flight to Paris as soon as possible. I’m having a fashion crisis here.
            Suddenly, a haunting voice runs through my head. You’re Evelyn Sinclair’s daughter, I can hear Jiyong’s voice say. I close my eyes and try to flush it out. You’re Evelyn Sinclair’s daughter.
            Is that all I am? I open my eyes, taking a deep breath. I open up my Internet browser and go to Google. I enter my name in the search bar, the hottest news being the whole dinner “date” with Jiyong. I continue scrolling through, clicking on what I was looking for. My eyes scan the forum, each comment running through my head like a track star.
            VIPbangin Aubrey Sinclair is nothing without her parents. Seriously, the only reason why she’s famous is because of them.
            loveXlifeXlaugh I totally agree. She would be nothing without them! I mean, she’s an alright model and all, but she really wouldn’t be where she is without them.
            xpandaluvx I heard she’s a , so waeee is she with Jiyongie!? T~T
            VIPbangin Yeah, G-Dragon shouldn’t be out with that. He actually worked for his success. Aubrey was handed her success.
            Suddenly, there were knocks on my door. I close my laptop and stand up, brushing myself off. “Come in,” I say, my voice shaking a bit. I clear my throat, Jiyong walking through the door.
            “Your room is almost as big as the foyer.” he chuckles. I walk over to the supplies I had Lulu set out for me on the table, taking a seat on the couch.
            “Think big, live big.” I say as he takes a seat on the couch beside me. I hand him my sketchbook. “Pick which one you think is the best.”
            I give him a moment to look at my sketches. He flips back a few pages and hands my sketchbook back to me. “This dress,” he says. He pops his eyebrows up and gives me a smirk. “It’s y.”
            I roll my eyes and give a little chuckle. It was a long, open-back dress that I sketched out a few weeks ago in Mrs. Lee’s class. I wasn’t a big government person, so her class was a bore to me. “Leather?” I suggest, raising an eyebrow.
            “You’re going to have to find someone who can pull it off right. Leather’s hard to work with for a lot of people.”
            “Can’t you just wear a wig and be my model?”
            “You’re funny,” he laughs. “Why don’t you just model it yourself? Linda is modeling hers.”
            I roll my eyes. “I forgot you guys were best friends. Did you tell her your secrets while she told you hers?”
            “You’re sounding like a jealous girlfriend again,” he chuckles. I shake my head and stand up.
            “As if,” I walk over to the door and yell for Lulu. “Lu! Get me five yards of leather from the materials closet!”
 

            I was nearly done with the top part of the dress. I decided to give it a v-neckline so it could blend into the open back smoothly. I pin the fabrics together and take a step back, examining the upcoming masterpiece. I took a deep breath, exhausted from all of the work. “I like it so far.” Jiyong approves. I look at him and raise an eyebrow.
            “I don’t recall asking you.” I say to him. He stares at me blankly. I take a deep breath in irritation, suddenly hearing a knock on my door. “Come in.”
            Lulu pokes her head through the door. “Chef Pierre says he will be finished in fifteen minutes.” she says. I look over at the clock on the nightstand. It was already seven o’clock? I look over at Jiyong who wiped the blank facial expression off of his face.
            “Eat dinner with me tonight.” I say to him as I move my eyes over to the mannequin.
            “Are you asking me on another date?” he asks. In the corner of my eye, I can see him smirking. I roll my eyes.
            “As if.” I scoff. “My parents aren’t going to make it for dinner. I don’t want to eat alone.” I turn to face Lulu. “Tell Pierre to make another plate. We’ll be down in a few.”

            Jiyong and I walk into the dining room to see the table set up with our meal. Chef Pierre waves his hand over the food, presenting it with a smile. “Lobster and cheese stuffed shells topped with Alfredo sauce,” he says proudly.
            “I think I’ll call for you again tomorrow. You know I can never get enough of these.” I smile at him before taking my seat. He laughs and gives me a cheek kiss before exiting the room with one last smile. He was my favorite chef of all time.
            “Does he come every day?” Jiyong asks as he takes his seat.
            “No, of course not. I’d get tired of eating Italian food every day.” I reply. “Last night, Chef Tomosaki came and made me udon. It was perfect.”
            “Do your parents not cook?” Jiyong asks with a raised eyebrow. I give a little shrug.
            “They’re usually never home for dinner,” I reply.
            “Oh,” he says. I could feel the awkward tension in the air. Jiyong clears his throat. “So you know two languages? Korean and English?”
            “Three,” I correct. “Korean, English, and French.”
            “You know that’s the most random combination of languages ever, right?” he laughs. I roll my eyes playfully.
            “Whatever,” I scoff teasingly. “It makes sense when you put it all together. My mother is Korean, my father is French, and I was born in America.”
            “That’s even more random.” he laughs. “How did you end up in America?”
            “I’m not entirely sure. I never asked my parents.” I reply.
            “Are you and your parents not close or something?” he asks. “I mean, no family dinners? No talking about your birth?”
            I press my fork against my lip lightly and give out a little shrug. “I guess. It’s just kind of how it’s been my whole life so I’m kind of used to it.” I say. “What about you? Do you guys have family dinners?”
            “A few times a month,” he replies. He continues to talk, a smile growing on his face here and there. I listen to his silly family dinner stories, each word coming out of his mouth entering mine and slipping down with my food. My stomach starts to churn with emotions: woe, desolation, jealousy.
            Loneliness.

            I walk through the door of my room with Jiyong following behind. I looked at my unfinished masterpiece and sighed. I was too tired to work on it anymore. I could finish it tomorrow. “Can you set my mannequin in my closet for me?” I ask Jiyong as he closes the door behind him. He stares at me blankly. I roll my eyes and huff. He chuckles and nods. “I love how mad that gets you.” he says, grabbing my mannequin and heading into the closet. Suddenly, my phone rings. Hyunjoong. “Hello?” I answer.
            “I was driving past your place to go to mine and notice… I don’t know… roughly fifty girls sitting outside of your front lawn. There were a few sleeping on the edge your water fountain, too.” he says. “They said something about a G-Dragon in your house right at this moment?”
            “You talked to them?” I ask. “I’m surprised you didn’t take one home with you to .”
            “Actually, I’m working on it but these girls are saving their bodies for the idol in your house.” he says.
            “Are you outside?!” I ask, walking over to my window and looking down at the mob of girls with posters in my front lawn. Jeez, how long were they out there? They’re quiet as hell. I squint my eyes and look for a boy—there he is. “Tell them that he’s not here.”
            “But is he?” Hyunjoong asks. “Obviously you guys are close now. First, it’s a photo shoot. Then it’s a lunch date. Now he’s at your house. It’s the perfect love story!”
            “You’re being really gay, can you please stop.” I roll my eyes. “And no, we are not close. First, the photo shoot was a collaboration between two strangers who could care less about one another. Second, the lunch was an attempt to create a scandal because, frankly, he has been irrelevant to society lately. Third, he is not at my house. And—drumroll for the last and most important point of all—there is no perfect love story because there is no love.”
            “Not going to lie, my closet is bigger than yours.” Jiyong says as he makes his way out of the closet. I close my curtains quickly and motion him to stop talking.
            “Who is that?” Hyunjoong asks. I close my eyes and think for a second.
            “It’s Taemin from biology class; he’s helping me with my PowerPoint.” I reply quickly. “Tell those girls that he’s not here, they probably got confused.”
            “Who’s not here?” Jiyong asks.
            “Shut! Up!” I shout at Jiyong, rolling my eyes. I continue on with my conversation with Hyunjoong. “Sorry, Taemin is being annoying. Remind me to never ask him for help ever again. Okay, I’m going to go to sleep. Bye!”
            I tap on the end button on my phone. If I turn off my light now, it would be too suspicious. I’ll wait approximately five minutes. I turn to look at Jiyong who’s giving me a smirk. I roll my eyes at him. “You need to learn how to shut up when I tell you to shut up.”
            “Or the girls outside might find out I’m actually here?” he asks. My brows furrow.
            “How did you know?” I ask. He gives off a little chuckle.
            “I heard you talking on the phone.” he replies.
            “Oh, so you were just being an obnoxious to piss me off?” I scoff, tossing my phone on my bed. He nods, pouting his lip a little.
            “Yeah, pretty much.” he replies. He takes a seat on my bed and sighs like a child. “Well, it looks like I have to stay here longer. There are so many girls out there, and I don’t feel like getting bombarded.” he gives me a little smile. “Let’s watch a movie on Netflix.”
            I roll my eyes and walk off toward my closet. “Do whatever you want. You’re leaving at twelve whether there are girls outside or not.” I say.
            “If there are girls outside, at least they can take pictures and then I’ll be relevant to society.” I can hear him say. I give off a little laugh. What a sly . I grab a random selection of pajamas and head toward the bathroom, locking the door. I lean against the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. Holy , I’m about to watch a movie with Kwon Jiyong. I pace back and forth. Be cool.
            I stop in my footsteps. I look at myself in the mirror. I give myself a puzzled look.
            “Why are you acting so nervous?” I whisper to myself. “It’s just Kwon Jiyong—the last person you would want to watch a movie with. God, just let twelve o’clock come faster.”
            I brush my teeth and change my clothes, tossing my dirty clothes into the laundry basket. I walk out of the bathroom to see Jiyong’s face concentrating on my laptop screen really hard. “Are you confused on how to work your own Netflix account?” I ask him.
            “Aubrey Sinclair is nothing without her parents. She wouldn’t be where she is without them. I heard she was a .” Jiyong’s voice sent a gasp of air down my throat, leaving me open-mouthed. He turns his head toward my frozen body, an eyebrow raised. “Is this what you like to look up?”
            “No!” I defend, walking over to him and exiting out of the forum. I was so rushed that I didn’t exit it out earlier.
            “You know that’s not true, right?” Jiyong asks, his voice soft. I bite my inside of my cheek, attempting to swallow past the firm lump in the back of my throat.
            “Of course,” I scoff, turning back around to head to my closet (for no apparent reason, really. I just needed somewhere to go). Suddenly, I’m pulled back by my arm.
            “You know that’s not true, right?” he repeats, looking at me straight in the eyes. “You’re much more than your parents.” I cross my arms and take a deep breath.
            “That’s not what you thought,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
            “What?” his brows furrow together. Suddenly, his face softens up and his eyes look apologetic. “Oh.”
            I break away from his grip and walk into my closet. I rummage through the racks of my shirts, my mind completely flown away from my body. Prisoners nearly escape my eyes as I attempt to swallow all of my emotions down. She’s nothing without her parents.
            Nothing.
            Suddenly, I can feel the warmth of another against my back. Arms were planted around my waist, a chin lightly sitting on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Jiyong’s soothing voice says in my ear. My heart completely stops. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive about being Evelyn Sinclair’s daughter.”
            I break away from his arms, walking over to the other side of the closet to rummage through my dresses. “I’m not sensitive.” I say, keeping my voice as normal as possible. I act as if I’m observing one of my red dresses carefully, but I honestly don’t know what I’m doing. I’m too scatterbrained to think properly, but I have to have something to do. I can’t look weak. I am Aubrey Sinclair. I am everything but weak.
            “Stop acting tough,” he chuckles, making his way toward me. I roll my eyes, continuing on with my rummaging. Suddenly, I’m lifted off of the ground and carried out of my closet—princess style.
            “What is your problem?!” I shriek. He tosses me on the bed and gives me a charming smile, making my heart flutter.
            “Let’s watch a movie to get your mind off of things, mm?” He walks over to the light switch to turn the lights off. Netflix was already pulled up on the laptop. I slide under the covers as he makes his way onto my bed, making himself comfortable beside me—over the covers. “Do you want to watch something funny?” he asks.
            “No, scary.” I reply blatantly.
            “You’re so tough,” his words were filled with sarcasm.
            “Well, I figured since I was already hanging out with a monster, watching something scary wouldn’t be too bad.” I shrug.
            He glares at me. “Very funny,” he says. He clicks on a movie called Death Bell. The movie starts to play and he moves around, getting comfortable. I lean back and make myself comfortable, only to receive Jiyong’s head on my shoulder. I raise an eyebrow.
            “Do you need a pillow or something?” I ask. “There’s like… a million… right behind you.”
            He shakes his head and then looks up at me. “Your shoulder is perfectly fine.” he replies with a smile that made my entire body freeze. He returns back to his earlier position, his eyes on the screen. I look over at the clock: 9:19 PM.
            Maybe twelve o’clock could wait just a little bit.