Naeun stares at floor-to-ceiling windows and only feels a small pinch of jealousy. “How much did you pay for those?”
 
 
    Myungsoo, of course, doesn’t answer and walks further inside the penthouse. He’s barefoot, dressed in his jeans and possibly the thinnest white t-shirt he owns, and Naeun knows that he planned it that way. The low-slung jeans are a little too calculated, and the t-shirt is something Naeun’s never seen, so far out of the man’s normal color palette. 
 
 
    The windows offer a beautiful view of the city, and Naeun shucks her heels off at the door to walk on the wood floors. She presses her fingers against the glass, in the way that Myungsoo can’t stand, and looks out. “I feel like I’m gonna fall out. That’s trippy.”
 
 
    Myungsoo puts his hand on the collar of Naeun’s jacket, and Naeun helps Myungsoo take it off herself but goes back to looking out the window. “I couldn’t live here.”
 
 
    “That’s why you don’t.”
 
 
    Naeun turns around and glues herself to Myungsoo’s back. “But what if I did?” Naeun reaches around and curls her fingers in Myungsoo’s belt loops.
 
 
    Myungsoo keeps walking forward, barely impeded by the Naeun-shaped leech. “Mm…what if.”
 
 
    Naeun grins into the back of Myungsoo’s neck. 
 
 
 
 
    Later that night Naeun finds out that Myungsoo does indeed love it when Naeun pulls on his belt loops, mixed with the way Naeun’s presses against his crisp sheets, thread-count higher than Naeun’s paycheck. Naeun likes to do the pulling, and she likes laying on sheets worth more than her life. 
 
 
    It’s one of the perks in this whole setup. 
 
 
 
 
    “What if he’s, like, a drug lord.” Bomi’s friendly face is pressed with worry, and this has to be the twelfth time Bomi’s offered the idea. 
 
 
    Naeun shrugs. “Well, he’s the hottest drug lord I’ve ever screwed around with.” Bomi bemoans the choice of words, but Naeun’s not sorry. It’s true. “I know what I’m doing.”
 
 
    “This isn’t a good idea. What if he just up and– and kills you one day.” Then in a higher-pitched voice, “What if I don’t have a friend anymore because of this? Hmm? I could end up friendless and–– and it’ll be your fault. All because you’re greedy.”
 
 
    Naeun rolls her eyes, but the words hit a little too close to home. Bomi’s not supposed to know, and it’s only the way he says it that makes Naeun suspect he still doesn’t. “Yeah, I’m the greedy one.”
 
 
    “I’m serious!”
 
 
    “Alright, I understand.” She tugs on Bomi’s apron. “Love you too.”
 
 
    Throughout the rest of their shift, Bomi keeps her eyes on Naeun, and this causes her to nearly fall over with a whole tray of drinks. She’s being ridiculous, but Naeun thinks she does understand. When Bomi started dating that guy from his World History class, Naeun was suspicious of the whole thing. But only for a little bit. Hyunsik’s a nice guy, if somewhat obnoxious.
 
 
    Naeun’s shift ends, and she sees a black shadow standing outside the restaurant window, a shadow that’s familiar and clearly waiting for her. Bomi notices too and shoots Naeun a look of terror. Bomi, avoiding the manager’s eye, runs to Naeun. She opens to say something, and Naeun says, “Yes, I’m sure he’s going to kill me in front of everyone at my work. I’m putting you in charge of my funeral.”
 
 
    Bomi’s mouth opens and closes –– she looks so silly –– and Naeun waves at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
 
 
    “How was work?” Myungsoo asks when Naeun comes outside. 
 
 
    “Alright. Not the best, not the worst. How was your day?”
 
 
    Myungsoo squints his eyes in the harsh sun. “Quiet.” Dressed in his dark attire, Myungsoo looks serious. The type of serious that makes people afraid, that makes people think the worst. He has that look on his face that’s uninviting, closed off, and telling everyone to stay away. 
 
 
    But that’s all skin-deep. 
 
 
    Naeun hooks her arm through Myungsoo’s, linking at the elbows, and rests her head on the guy’s shoulder. They walk down the street, and Myungsoo takes them on a detour through the park. Naeun presses in closer to Myungsoo and rubs her head against the material of his jacket. Which, no doubt, costs more than Naeun’s whole closet. 
 
 
    “Bomi thinks you’re a drug lord.”
 
 
    “I thought she said that last week.”
 
 
    “No, last week it was pimp. And then she changed her mind and was saying an arms dealer.”
 
 
    “And what’d you tell her?”
 
 
    “Nothing.”
 
 
    Myungsoo sighs and sticks his hands in his pockets, causing Naeun to readjust her grip. “And what do you think I do?”
 
 
    Naeun laughs. “You know me. I don’t care.” A few seconds of silence passes, and Naeun says, “I think you’re a rich kid with too much money.”
 
 
    Naeun catches Myungsoo staring at a kid playing soccer in the grass; he’s not listening anymore. When the ball rolls their way, Myungsoo stops it with his foot and kicks back to the little girl. Naeun watches the corners of her lips curl upwards, and Naeun’s own grin is unstoppable. 
 
 
    Myungsoo’s not scary. Where people see straight, angry lines in his face, Naeun finds happiness. In Myungsoo’s eyes, Naeun’s able to see the reality no one else can, and if she’s the only one to know that Myungsoo cried over the squirrel he backed over with his car then that’s alright. 
 
 
 
 
    “Kiss me,” Naeun says, lying on Myungsoo’s bed, in the most compromising of positionss he can think of, all splayed out for the taking. She has her arms outstretched to catch Myungsoo when he falls on her, but Myungsoo keeps standing there as if silently saying, “no.”
 
 
    “Why not?” Naeun props herself up on her elbows, and she knows she sounds whiney, but this is unfair. Myungsoo’s unfair. The only time Myungsoo denies her anything is when he’s mad or when he just feels like making Naeun suffer. 
 
 
    Myungsoo suppresses his smile well –– Naeun can applaud him on that –– but keeps his eyes everywhere but Naeun. “Don’t feel like it.”
 
 
    Which is bull.
 
 
    Naeun crawls to the end of Myungsoo’s bed and grasps his shoulders. “You’re such a liar––”
 
 
    Myungsoo has something in his hands, something he pulled from behind his back, and Naeun’s heart stops beating for a second because this feels too close to something she doesn’t want to remember. 
 
 
    “For you.”    
 
 
    Naeun’s eyes catch on the wrapping paper, and, oh, he didn’t have to do this. Naeun looks up, and Myungsoo falters for a second because Naeun looks less excited than she normally is –– her permanent state is excited, borderline hysterical at times, and she’s nothing close to that now. 
 
 
    “Thanks,” Naeun croaks out, taking the present. It’s a rectangular in shape, and opening it reveals a thick winter coat. 
 
 
    “So you don’t freeze.”
 
 
    Because Naeun has a habit of turning into an icicle in cold weather. Myungsoo knows that. But Naeun feels dry out, and she has to force the smile on her face. “Thanks.”
 
 
    “You’re welcome––”
 
 
    “But,” Naeun interrupts, “a better present would be a kiss.” She closes her eyes and points at her lips. Everything’s okay. This is alright. She only relaxes when Myungsoo’s lips are on her, and she pulls the older down onto the bed, drowning him in unspoken feelings.
 
 
    As of late, this has begun to feel a little less like screwing around and something more permanent. Something that makes Naeun stare at the coat and wish she could give it back.
 
 
 
 
    Naeun didn’t mean to cast the hook-line-and-sinker with Myungsoo. She’s strung along plenty of men in her time of playing around, but when she saw Myungsoo the thought “just one more” definitely crossed her mind. Her pockets were feeling empty, her clothes no longer new. Bomi would yell at her if she knew that this was happening again, even if she only thought this was about Naeun having a thing for rich bastards, but Naeun couldn’t just survive on tips alone. Between classes and work life was dull, she missed the pretty presents from lovers. 
 
 
    Naeun didn’t mean to make things turn out so serious, though.
 
 
    “It’s nothing real,” Naeun said over the loud pound of music at the bar. “I just want your money. And you want mine body,” she pointed out. “We’ll be doing both of us a favor, really.” 
 
 
    That was always Naeun’s opener. Make it casual, make it easy. Make herself accessible. 
 
 
    And she was like everyone else who takes Myungsoo at face value. All she saw were hard eyes and a serious brow, still hands and a million unspoken thoughts asking to be eaten off his tongue. Naeun really thought he was a catch, one of those people who inspire art, and she expected him to be the possessive type. The type who invited people like Naeun inside and plan on keeping them. And rich –– that much was obvious. It’s the type Naeun hunted for, sought out. 
 
 
    Naeun didn’t expect to want to be kept this time. 
 
 
    It was barely a week into fooling around with the guy named Myungsoo when Naeun got a shock and realized she picked the wrong person to take advantage of. Myungsoo wears his heart on the sleeves of his expensive shirts, and Naeun realized she could easily poke a hole in Myungsoo’s exposed heart and watch the blood drip. 
 
 
    They did it a lot in the first month, and the discovery of Myungsoo’s sensitivity –- the fact that he’s not the Naeun was looking for –– was pushed to the back burner, and Naeun let things go as normal. 
 
 
    Which Naeun is seriously regretting now.
 
 
    The first time Myungsoo invited her over without losing his shirt was the first time Naeun felt her stomach turn. She fell asleep beside Myungsoo in the other’s bed, and Naeun could have gotten up, taken anything in the place and ran out the door. She could have ran hard and never gone back. Myungsoo has things that cost too much and would sell for more than enough. Naeun nearly did it –– nearly fired the bullet to bleed out Myungsoo’s heart and run far away, leaving a bloody mess for Myungsoo to wake up to. 
 
 
    Those thoughts were killed when Naeun felt Myungsoo’s hand find her, even in sleep. 
 
 
    And Naeun decided that she should ride this out for as long as possible. 
 
 

 
 
    “What do you want to do today?”
 
 
    The question is quiet but it still rouses Naeun from sleep. Sje got in late from work last night, and Myungsoo was understanding when Naeun collapsed almost without a word onto his bed. Naeun rarely sees her own bed these days, and she wonders why she’s still paying rent to a place she doesn’t even live in anymore. 
 
 
    Not really. 
 
 
    “I want…to sleep.” Naeun wraps her arms around Myungsoo’s neck, too fast for someone so tired to be able to do, but she does, and she pulls Myungsoo down beside her. He thinks Myungsoo’s a little too compliant because if he really didn’t want to Naeun would’ve gotten two strong hands pushing her away. 
 
 
    They end up getting Chinese delivered to them, and they lay on Myungsoo’s living room floor to eat instead of eating at the table only five feet away. It’s times like these where Naeun feels the guilt start to close in on her, and she feels like it’s going to kill her. 
 
 
    Myungsoo, in his house, is the most free. In his home, the smiles Myungsoo doesn’t share anywhere else are unleashed, and Naeun is the witness. Inside these four walls, Myungsoo is in control. 
 
 
    And Naeun wants him to feel in control everywhere. 
 
 
    Naeun takes a long slurp of her noodles and eyes Myungsoo as he struggles with the container of rice. Myungsoo laughs as he finally busts it open, clumps of rice spilling on his hand. “Wow.”
 
 
    Naeun’s become aware that someone else may have found Myungsoo long before she got to him. May have found his heart, and Myungsoo might, in fact, already be bleeding. It’s an observation made from the fact that Myungsoo isn’t just quiet, he’s tight-lipped in the shiest of ways, only letting Naeun indulge in the things that he lets her. It’s self-conscious the way he does it, and Naeun knows Myungsoo isn’t aware that Naeun’s aware. 
 
 
    Myungsoo’s just a rich, not-so-little boy with too much money, who drips kindness and compassion –– who wears black clothes and gives his ice-cream to kids who can’t afford it. 
 
 
    Myungsoo smiles at her, and Naeun knows she’s in up to her waist with no rescue rope in sight. She should’ve left three months ago when Myungsoo didn’t trust her this much, when Myungsoo didn’t love her this much, when Myungsoo didn’t buy her things without Naeun asking. Because it’s been three months since Naeun’s pretended to be in love.
 
 
    Naeun eats her noodles and doesn’t bring up why she can’t look Myungsoo in the eye.
 
 
 
 
    “Against the window,” Naeun pleads, breathing hard and like she’ll never do it again. 
 
 
    Myungsoo’s response is to press her just there, Naeun’s cheek shoved against the glass, fingertips looking for purchase on the smooth surface as Myungsoo rocks into her. She bites her lower lip to not get too profane, to avoid breathing all over the glass. Because as much as Myungsoo probably thinks this is to indulge Naeun, it’s to glorify Myungsoo. 
 
 
    It’s up against the windows, that Naeun has her hands all over, that Myungsoo has her hands all over him. Myungsoo deserves to feel in charge, like the whole world is his –– and it definitely feels that way with this wonderful view –– and Naeun hopes that Myungsoo gets what she’s trying to tell him. 
 
 
    In all honesty, for someone to see them up here, they would need to look straight up into the air at a certain distance away, and Naeun figures the odds are low enough to go ahead with this. And she’s not exactly bothered by the idea that someone might look up and see him in only in her skin. 
 
 
    But there is the fear that the glass might break, and that’s ridiculous but still. Naeun worries. 
 
 
    Her breathing becomes more hitched, and she makes a mess all over the window, and Myungsoo might hate her for that. 
 
 
    Myungsoo kisses her anyway, and Naeun can’t think about anything. She can’t think about how big Myungsoo’s trust fund is, what kind of office job she no doubt has lined up for him, and not even how thankful she is that she’s met Myungsoo even if her intentions in the beginning were sketchy. 
 
 
    “You deserve…the best,” Naeun sighs into Myungsoo’s ear, and she feels the other come undone with that. 
 
 
 
 
    The guilt comes back with a vengeance. 
 
 
 
 
    When Myungsoo starts paying for Naeun’s apartment, Naeun feels a weight lift from her shoulders –– and a heavier one take its place. 
 
 
    “It’s fine,” Naeun says. “They just gave me a raise. I should be able to….”
 
 
    Myungsoo gives Naeun a look. “You deserve nice things too.”
 
 
    And that’s the problem.
 
 
 
 
    Naeun come clean to Bomi after drinking a full bottle of alcohol. Her words are slurred, and she knows she shouldn’t have told Bomi from the look on hwe face. 
 
 
    “You….”
 
 
    “Yes, unnie, I date guys for the size of their wallet.” She laughs, but it’s not real, and through the haze of alcohol she knows she’s had too much. She needs to go to bed. "Does that make me worse or something?”
 
 
    Stunned, Bomi sits on the other side of the table. Naeun’s back in her own apartment for the night, and Bomi found her nursing a glass, the bottle already half gone. And from there, Naeun’s secrets unraveled.
 
 
    “I– I didn’t know. I knew you dated s, but I….”
 
 
    “Well, good. You weren’t supposed to know.” Naeun pillows her face on the table, and she feels a shudder run through her ribcage. 
 
 
    “But––”
 
 
    “I’m a . I know.”
 
 
    Bomi looks at her for a moment, and then says after plucking the glass out of Naeun’s loose hands, “We’ll talk about this when you’re not drunk. You need to go to sleep.” And she leads Naeun to a bed that doesn’t have Myungsoo underneath the covers and crawls in beside her but not in the same way Myungsoo would. 
 
 
    Naeun drifts off without dreams.
 
 
    In the morning, Bomi brings Naeun a glass of water. “Now talk to me.”
 
 
    Naeun’s head feels on the verge of exploding, but she holds it together. “I date guys to get nice things, okay?” She didn’t really want to tell Bomi. “That’s the way I operate. I…found that guys like to buy me things, and rich guys like to buy me really nice things. I’m not exactly poor, but I’m not well off either.”
 
 
    Bomi stares at Naeun.
 
 
    “I realize it’s wrong. It’s a ty thing to do –- to use someone. But Myungsoo was ––.”
 
 
    “What?” Bomi reaches out and touches Naeun’s hand, and that’s good. Bomi at least doesn’t share the same opinions as Naeun about Naeun. That’s been her number one fear since this all started. Bomi’s been closer than a co-worker to her, but she wasn’t sure if the truth would push her away. 
 
 
    “Myungsoo was supposed to be the last.” Naeun covers . “But, unnie, he’s so…but he’s so nice. The guys I used to be with, I hated. Every single one of them. And he’s…. He’s so nice. Too nice. He makes me want to give him the best, and I know I’m not the best.” Naeun takes a breath. “I feel so guilty, I don’t want to be.”
 
 
    Bomi sighs and combs her hair with her fingers. “I think you need to be honest with him. I think that’s the only way you’re going to fix this.”
 
 
    And the truth is always the best solution, right?
 
 
 
    
    Naeun only knocks once on Myungsoo’s door before it’s wrenched open, Myungsoo’s face inches from her.
 
 
    “Hello.”
 
 
    Myungsoo’s eyes are wide with his lips parted; he looks like he’s seen a ghost, and Naeun maybe knows why. Maybe it’s because Naeun hasn’t called Myungsoo in nine days and seen him in less than seven. 
 
 
    “Where were you?”
 
 
    Naeun’s taken back by the question. “Around.”
 
 
    “Oh.” Myungsoo loses the intensity in his face, seeming abashed by Naeun’s answer. His hair falls into his eyes from its slicked back position and –– wait.
 
 
    “Going somewhere?” Naeun looks Myungsoo up and down and sees the suit, the fancy shoes, the fanciness of it all. 
 
 
    “No. Uh, back from somewhere.”
 
 
    Naeun rubs her lips together and snaps herself out of Myungsoo focus. “Can I come inside?”
 
 
    Myungsoo opens the door wider, and Naeun walks inside with a buzz in her stomach. She needs to talk to Myungsoo. Lay it all out. 
 
 
    “I was…at my dad’s work.”
 
 
    Naeun turns around to face Myungsoo. “Oh?”
 
 
    “Yeah. He, uh –– well, actually –– I’m taking over the business.” Myungsoo gestures to himself. “I don’t have to wait around here all day.”
 
 
    It did seem strange to Naeun –– Myungsoo sitting around all day with his money and no job in sight –– but he mentioned something about his parents a few times. Always in a tight voice and pursed lips. Something’s weird there. 
 
 
    “Are you okay?” Myungsoo looks up at Naeun and nods his head. He doesn’t seem okay; he seems flustered and worried, and his face is as smooth as glass, but Naeun can see it. “Are you sure?”
 
 
    Myungsoo shrugs this time. “I do what I have to do.”
 
 
    There’s a lot of empty holes in that statement. Nothing to tell Naeun, “yes, I love this job, I’m so happy to have it, my relationship with my parents is fine.” Naeun frowns. This penthouse, lavish and gorgeous as it is, doesn’t seem Myungsoo’s style at all. He has an idea, but it’s far-fetched. 
 
 
    “What made you choose this place?” Naeun sits on Myungsoo’s couch, the leather creasing under ers weight. Everything’s cut modern, harsh and accusing. 
 
 
    Myungsoo flicks his eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t know. It seemed…right.” He won’t look at Naeun, and it’s possible Naeun’s not the only one with something to say. 
 
 
    “Oh.”
 
 
    Myungsoo nods, a palm coming up to smooth his hair back into place. Naeun can see the fingers shake. Naeun prods Myungsoo into the bedroom and wraps him in blankets, and Naeun doesn’t tell him why she’s not good enough. 
 
 
    It’s the next morning when the opportunity arises again. The day is Saturday, Naeun doesn’t have to be at work until four, and Myungsoo’s new job doesn’t require him on Saturdays. Photo albums are left on the dining room table. Something Naeun didn’t notice yesterday but does now because in the quiet of the morning the sun comes through the windows and haloes the albums like it’s presenting her an invitation. 
 
 
    Naeun, with nothing better to do, goes through them. This is probably what Myungsoo was doing yesterday before Naeun came over. She’s never seen the albums before, and the rich man’s usually quick to clean up. 
 
 
    It’s a lot of pictures of Myungsoo as a child –– the baby cheeks, goodness –– and Naeun sees a lot of people that she assumes to be Myungsoo’s family. He seems to be the youngest of all girls, and Naeun wonders if that was pressure she saw on Myungsoo’s face. The only son of a wealthy family, pressured to be the next generation, to carry the legacy.
 
 
    And Myungsoo’s dating preferences…. 
 
 
    “Noisy.”    
 
 
    Naeun whirls around and sees Myungsoo in his all his morning glory. Shirtless and wearing flannel pants. “I didn’t hear you wake up,” Naeun laughs, closing the album, but it’s too late. Myungsoo knows she’s been snooping.
 
 
    “I didn’t hear you wake up.”
 
 
    On a normal day, Naeun would ask for a morning kiss, but Bomi’s words weigh on her mind, and she should come clean. “Hey, I––”
 
 
    Myungsoo leans over the couch and plucks the album from between Naeun’s thighs. “I should burn this.”
 
 
    Naeun releases a sigh, she’s going to have to say something at some point. “You don’t mean that.”
 
 
    “It’s blackmail.” Myungsoo walks away with it, seemingly bent on walking to the kitchen where Naeun knows Myungsoo keeps the matches. Or that’s what Naeun imagines he’s doing. Naeun vaults over the couch and tries to reach around Myungsoo to grab the album because taking drastic measures isn’t below Myungsoo. 
 
 
    “You’ll regret this!” 
 
 
    Myungsoo holds it out of Naeun’s reach, and the two grapple for it. Soon Naeun’s laughing and Myungsoo is too, but the moment’s ruined the second the album falls out of Myungsoo’s hands and scatters loose pictures all over the ground. Naeun’s laughter dies when she sees the pictures, and Myungsoo’s scooping them up faster than he can avoid social situations. 
 
 
    Naeun blinks when he sees the sudden tension in Myungsoo’s shoulders. “So clumsy,” Naeun jokes, poking him in the back. “Butter fingers.” Naeun smiles but doesn’t feel like it. 
 
 
    The pictures are recent, taken in the past year, and are of Myungsoo and an unfamiliar face. A girl with fair skin and bright eye smile. And it wasn’t one photo but many. Naeun’s sure she saw one of them sharing a kiss, and….
 
 
    Naeun thinks she knows who poked the whole in Myungsoo’s heart. 
 
 
 
 
    “Have you told him yet?”
 
 
    Naeun ignores Bomi and focuses on her tables. Bomi reminding her every ten-point-two seconds isn’t going to help anything, and she has orders to take. 
 
 
    “You have to tell him sooner or later.”
 
 
    Naeun prefers later.
 
 
 
 
    Their casual relationship had turned into something closer to a fly trap the more time Naeun spent with Myungsoo. Myungsoo never disrespects Naeun, he never gives her an outright compliment either. Naeun finds that as a nice change of pace compared to the other guys who tell her how pretty she’d look sullied and wrecked in bed, and Naeun’s grown calloused to those sorts of things. Myungsoo’s silence might be suffocating to some, but Naeun finds it liberating.
 
 
    “You look nice,” Myungsoo will say, voice small and looking straight at Naeun. Nothing about how nice Naeun will look underneath him or anything of that, and that’s exactly why Naeun’s heart started doing weird things.
 
 
     And it was against her better judgement –– totally against the voice in her head saying get out get out –– that Naeun stayed. As Naeun tried to reel him in, Myungsoo didn’t resist, and that made it too easy for Naeun to do her job.
 
 
    “My iPod’s broken. I was going to buy a new one, but I spent all my money on classes. This semester’s brutal.”
 
 
    And Myungsoo’s big heart made it too easy for him to fall. 
 
 
    Naeun fell equally as hard, more so probably, because face-planting on the sidewalk is reminiscent of being around Myungsoo. She’s constantly hit by how precious the older guy is –– always extending a kind hand to those in need, totally not affected by the weight of his wallet. And, slowly, Naeun became unaffected as well. 
 
 
 
 
    Naeun’s holed up in her apartment with a bag of popcorn and the TV light when her phone rings from under a pillow. She has an aching feeling of who it is, and she drags it out to have her fears confirmed. 
 
 
    Myungsoo.
 
 
    Naeun considers not answering. She hasn’t seen Myungsoo in a few days –– ignored the texts he got awhile ago. Myungsoo gives her space when she needs it, but Naeun’s search of space is more about how she’s so screwed rather than wanting time alone. The way Myungsoo leaves her alone when they’re apart is scary, and Naeun only thinks so because it’s like Myungsoo disappears and not because Naeun’s actually frightened. She’s not much better, not answering calls or texts that Myungsoo does send, but it’s different. Because every single time Naeun comes back Myungsoo’s fingers dig into the doorframe, and his eyes bear into Naeun, asking why. Naeun can almost see the phantom droplets of blood around her feet.
 
 
    Against his better judgement, Naeun answers it.
 
 
    “I have a can of tuna but nothing else.”
 
 
    Naeun’s mouth opens and closes before getting something out. “Uh, what?”
 
 
    “For a cat. A cat, Naeun. Food.”
 
 
    Myungsoo isn’t making sense, but Naeun might be able to put two and two together. “Did you find a cat? Is that what this is about?”
 
 
    “Can you come over?” And Naeun’s about to say no, she’s doing things , but then Myungsoo adds, “Please?” 
 
 
    Naeun’s pulling on her coat before she can hang up the phone. 
 
 
    The cat turns out to be a kitten, so tiny it can fit in the palm of Naeun’s hand, and when Naeun discovers Myungsoo’s door unlocked, she finds Myungsoo lying on the floor with the fluffy, little thing on his chest. Naeun tries to control herself. 
 
 
    “And where’d you find it?” That’s the first question Naeun asks Myungsoo even though they haven’t seen each other in days. Myungsoo’s head lifts up, and he says hello with his eyes, filling in what Naeun neglected to say. 
 
 
    “Out front.”
 
 
    “Does this building even allow pets?”
 
 
    Myungsoo shrugs, and Naeun shuts the door. Myungsoo doesn’t seem to care what the building says, he has a kitten, and Naeun’s pretty sure the kitten isn’t leaving. “So, what’s the name?”
 
 
    Myungsoo shrugs again. “What’s a good name?”
 
 
    Realizing she’s being asked for an opinion, Naeun waves her hands. “No, I’m having no part of this.”
 
 
    Myungsoo scoops up the kitten and is over to Naeun in four long strides. He practically throws the kitten into Naeun’s arms and the second his hands curl around the small body, the baby-soft gray fur, Naeun knows she was a part even before the kitten found Myungsoo. “Momo.”
 
 
    Myungsoo takes the kitten back. “Never mind.”
 
 
    “Wait, wait.” Naeun lays a hand on Myungsoo’s shoulder and peers over at the kitten. “Is it a boy or girl?”
 
 
    “Undetermined.”
 
 
    “Don’t you think we should find out?” Naeun realizes the ‘we’ in the sentence too late. She internally punches herself. 
 
 
    Myungsoo holds the kitten out, a mute offer for Naeun to do the honors. Naeun takes the ball of fluff, flipping it into its back in his arms. “I guess I just…?” Naeun holds up a hand and looks back down, slightly south of the kitten’s belly. Myungsoo nods. Naeun parts fur and more fur and more fur, but he can’t see crap. 
 
 
    “I think it’s too young. And fluffy.”
 
 
    “What do we call it then?”
 
 
    “Fluffy.”
 
 
    “Something real.”
 
 
    “Gyogi.”
 
 
    “No.”
 
 
    The debate over the kitten’s name lasts for awhile, and it’s close to eleven the next time Naeun looks at the clock. Myungsoo has the kitten fast asleep on his lap and looks like nothing short of an earthquake will move him from the spot. Naeun should be going.
 
 
    “Are you sleeping here?”
 
 
    The question makes Naeun weak all over, more so today than usual, and what could it hurt? It could hurt a lot. But Naeun doesn’t go back home.
 
 
 
 
    Myungsoo, now going to work eight to four, is not as present in Naeun’s life as he had been. Of course, Myungsoo’s still around, but he’s not there to walk Naeun home from his job or spend meaningless hours doing nothing. He’s more tired at the end of a day, understandably, and Naeun’s waking him up more often rather than it being Myungsoo waking him up. 
 
 
    “I’m picking you up from work tonight.” 
 
 
    Naeun blinks. “Oh, okay.”
 
 
    Myungsoo laughs quietly at the end of the line. “We’ll go get something to eat.”
 
 
    “Sounds like you have the night planned out. Uh-oh. What’d I do? What did I do to deserve a night out, and what about the cat?”
 
 
    “Be ready by the end of your shift.” 
 
 
    Naeun hangs up, not aware of the smile on her face that only falls when she finds Bomi’s eyes on her. Naeun ignores it. 
 
 
    The shift feels too long now that she’s waiting for Myungsoo, but Naeun breezes through the night without much incident. She works in a restaurant that has a drinking bar, at nights it can get rowdy, and Naeun only has to console one drunken guest about his sports team not winning. The shift goes by too peacefully, and Naeun should have been clued in on what was coming. 
 
 
    Naeun clocks out on time, and Myungsoo pushes through the restaurant doors, the slight smile on his face. He might as well be beaming ear-to-ear because that’s what Naeun sees. 
 
 
    “Hey.” Naeun takes Myungsoo’s hands in her. “Where are we going?”
 
 
    Myungsoo doesn’t answer. “Where’s your coat?”
 
 
    “I guess I do need that.” Naeun sighs because she just wants to be out of here, be gone and leave and have a nice night with her boyfriend. He likes calling Myungsoo her boyfriend even if they’re supposed to be less than that, Naeun feeling like so much more. 
 
 
    Naeun grabs her coat from the break room, and she’s too preoccupied with leaving to notice the hand that snakes out to grab her arm. 
 
 
    “There you are!” the voice hisses. Naeun smells alcohol and instinctively wrinkles her nose. “You fcking . I’ve been looking everywhere.”
 
 
    And that can’t be good. Naeun looks at the guy who has her, and –– oh god. Bitter ex-boyfriend to ruin the night. To be fair, Naeun has a lot of ex-boyfriends so if she can’t exactly remember the name of this particular one, can he be blamed?
 
 
    “I don’t know you,” Naeun instantly says. “Get off me.”
 
 
    The guy laughs, and the sound is familiar in her ears. The name’s right on his tongue…. “You’re fcking something, you know that? Fooling around with everyone and thinking you can get away with it? Amazing.” This guy’s more than a little wasted, and Naeun wonders if he’d remember getting punched in the face. 
 
 
    “Problem?” The voice over her shoulder is cold and without looking Naeun knows who it is. 
 
 
    “No,” Naeun answers, but the guy still has his fingers digging into Naeun’s bicep. 
 
 
    “,” the guy chokes out, the alcohol wafting back into Naeun’s face. “That’s what you are. You fck around, drain a guy’s bank account and leave him, right? That’s what you do, right?”
 
 
    Naeun’s ears are hot, and she can see Bomi watching frozen by the door. Bomi, connecting eyes with Naeun, snaps out of her immobility and starts to march over. But it’s too late. 
 
 
    “Get off,” Naeun repeats. “I’ll get them to throw you out.”    
 
 
    The guy –– his name, what’s his name? –– leans around Naeun and looks at Myungsoo. “What’d she tell you? That you could be friend with benefits and everything’d be okay? She told me the same thing.”
 
 
    Bomi’s beside them and asking the guy to leave, but that’s not the man’s intention. He still has his eyes on Myungsoo even if he’s removed his fingers from Naeun. “She’s a ing gold-digger,” he guffaws. “Probably got you wrapped around her finger. Just like everyone else.”
 
 
    “No,” Naeun denies. Her stomach twists, her fists curl together. 
 
 
    There’s a shove to Naeun’s chest, and Bomi’s shouting for help. “Don’t lie to me! Did you or did you not use me? Huh?” Myungsoo’s larger frame blocks Naeun from the guy, and he’s putting himself up as barrier so–– Naeun chokes on a breath. 
 
 
    She feels like she’s letting something slip between her fingers, something Naeun’s been trying to protect for months, ands he loses it. It vanishes in the blink of an eye. Naeun reaches around Myungsoo, and her hands fist in the guy’s shirt, and she pulls him as close as she can with Myungsoo between them. “Leave me the hell alone.”
 
 
    The guy laughs. “That’s right. You used me like you used every other guy. I did everything for you, and you kept taking.”
 
 
    Hands pull them apart, and Myungsoo takes Naeun away. Staff are there now to handle it, but Naeun wants to shove her fist between a pair of eyes and a still flapping mouth. They’re held up by questions, but after an empty “yes, I’m alright” Naeun’s allowed to go. She’s conscious of the fact that Myungsoo’s fingers are tight on her, and she’s vaguely aware that they hurt. Cold air hits Naeun in the face as they step outside.
 
 
    “Who was that?” The silence that fell between them is broken by Myungsoo, and that would be odd on a normal day, under normal circumstances, but that’s not the case. 
 
 
    “Ex.” Naeun stuffs her hands in her coat pockets, heart beating wildly in her ribcage. 
 
 
    Myungsoo walks beside her, and Naeun can almost feel the chill rolling off her. Naeun shivers. “Has he done that before?”
 
 
    “Done what?”
 
 
    “Showed up at work?”
 
 
    Naeun scoffs. “I don’t even remember his name, it’s been that long since I’ve seen him.” And that’s not exactly why Naeun doesn’t remember his name. She didn’t care before, and she doesn’t care now, but she does care about what Myungsoo thinks about that. What Myungsoo thinks about her. Her heart won’t calm down.
 
 
    Silence lapses between them again. Naeun and Myungsoo walk the streets, and Naeun knows what’s coming. She braces for impact –– it’s bound to come up. The next time Myungsoo opens his mouth Naeun cringes, but what he says is something Naeun didn’t expect. “I don’t believe him.”
 
 
    “What?”
 
 
    “Whatever he said. I don’t believe it.”
 
 
    But Myungsoo should. It would make everything easier if he just would. If Myungsoo believed that Naeun was all the things that he heard then he could hate Naeun, and it’d be so simple. 
 
 
    Naeun wasn’t totally wrong about Myungsoo. Turns out, he is the possessive type, his touches throughout the night linger a bit longer, and the tension bunging up his nerves and muscles and eyebrows never quite goes away. Back at his place, Myungsoo capitalizes on it.
 
 
    “Please, please,” he has Naeun begging. Sweat rolls in-between his shoulder blades, and, somehow, Naeun always finds herself like this –– burning under Myungsoo’s fingertips. 
 
 
    Myungsoo mutters something that doesn’t even make sense, and Naeun knows he’s unhinged. They both are as they crash around, slamming into things and making the air much too hot. “Don’t leave me,” she thinks she hears Myungsoo say. 
 
 
    The words stab Naeun in the heart, and, when they’re lying tangled together on the bed,  a kitten lying behind Naeun’s knees, it’s then that Naeun lets a tear slip. She’s not sorry for herself but sorry for Myungsoo. The man –– the son, the business man, the boy –– lies in her arms with sleep on his eyes, and Naeun hopes her shaking doesn’t disturb whatever dreams he may be having. 
 
 
 
 
    Naeun wears sneakers and a sweat jacket, wears her hair dark and short. She dresses in the clothes that she bought for herself, at some time, and she boxes away the nice dress, the watches, the heartbreaker shoes. She stuffs them all at the bottom of her closet and dares to not look at them. 
 
 
    She unplugs the TV and the Blu-Ray player, shuts the shelf of movies, and turns off her stereo. 
 
 
    Naeun shuts off everything her exes gave her, hides away all the things that have memories dusted onto them. She heaves a sigh as she sits on her couch, curling her knees into her chest. She doesn’t need any of these things, she never has. 
 
 
    “Don’t leave me.”
 
 
    But she does need just one person. 
 
 
    Bomi was right ––she is greedy. To think that she ever needed any this crap, was willing to hurt people to get what hse wanted, outlines exactly what Naeun figured out months ago. Between the last ex and Myungsoo, Naeun found herself exactly where she is now –– on her couch looking at all the things in her apartment and wishing she had none of them. 
 
 
    She made a resolution to change, that she can’t do this anymore, and that lasted for two months. And then she searched around for someone to start spoiling her again. Myungsoo doesn’t spoil, but he’s not helping Naeun change either. 
 
 
    And she wants to change. 
 
 
    Naeun gets off her couch and marches out the door without her coat. Less than a half hour passes before Naeun’s outside Myungsoo’s door again –– he’s always here. It’s nighttime, Myungsoo worked today, but Naeun’s determined. If she backs out now she’ll never forgive herself, and Myungsoo needs to have so much better. 
 
 
    The door opens on the second knock, and Myungsoo’s not surprised to see her –– Naeun making this a habit over the course of five months makes it hard to surprise the other with her presence. But it’s her serious expression that does take Myungsoo off his guard. Naeun can tell by the slight widening of his eyes, his eyebrows creasing. 
 
 
    “What’s wrong?” Myungsoo’s hair is disheveled –– was he lying down?
 
 
    Naeun pushes inside, and Myungsoo lets her. It’s similar to how Naeun pushed her way into Myungsoo’s life. “I––” And now that she’s here, her knees shake. “What if you were wrong? About me.”
 
 
    Myungsoo shuts the door and doesn’t look at Naeun.
 
 
    “What if everything you heard was right?” Naeun’s fingers are shaking beside her sos he makes them into fists, and when that’s not enough, she stuffs them in her pockets. “Myungsoo, I––”
 
 
    Myungsoo walks past Naeun and to the couch. She starts to fold the rumpled blankets and close his laptop, left open and running. Gyogi’s curled up in the corner of the couch, head tucked into feet. Myungsoo must have been laying there. “Are you hungry?”
 
 
    “No. No, I… Myungsoo, I’m trying to tell you something.”
 
 
    “I have leftovers.” Myungsoo walks into the kitchen, but he won’t look Naeun in the eye. Naeun wishes he would. 
 
 
    “No, wait. Just wait and listen to me. Myungsoo.” Naeun walks to the kitchen. “I’m not….”
 
 
    Myungsoo opens his fridge and sticks his head inside. 
 
 
    And Naeun feels annoyance toward Myungsoo’s dismissive behavior. “I’m trying to talk to you.”
 
 
    Myungsoo doesn’t answer. 
 
 
    “I’m trying to tell you something, Myungsoo, and it’d make me feel better if I knew you were listening. It’s serious.” 
 
 
    Hearing the underlying irritation in Naeun’s voice, Myungsoo looks at her for the first time since Naeun walked through the door. His eyes are flat and hard, and he seems upset already even though Naeun hasn’t told him a thing. But Naeun swallows it all down so he can say
 
 
    “Do you know why I live here?”    
 
 
    Naeun shuts her open mouth. Myungsoo’s interrupted her, and that’s something that doesn’t usually happen. “N- No. But, Myungsoo––”
 
 
    “My parents pay for this place.” His voice is quiet, whisper-soft and floating over the stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. “I live here, and they live across the city in a nice house.”
 
 
    Naeun’s curiosity wins over the sick anticipation. “I don’t think I understand.”
 
 
    “My family,” Myungsoo says, hands and lips loose, “pays for me to live here. They pay for me to stay away from them.”
 
 
    And, oh. 
 
 
    Oh.
 
 
    Myungsoo’s shoulders hunch, and he looks ready to collapse. It’s not the first time Naeun notices the bags underneath his eyes, but now they look so pronounced and heavy, and Naeun wants nothing more than to catch Myungsoo in her arms. 
 
 
    “And why is it that they don’t like you?” It would take two steps for Naeun to be next to him, it would take only the raise of her arms and a squeeze to capture Myungsoo.
 
 
    Myungsoo laughs but it isn’t the amused sort. It’s bitter and short. “You have to wonder?” Myungsoo holds out his hands to say, look at me. But Naeun sees nothing wrong. At the silence, Myungsoo says, “They don’t exactly agree with who I like.”
 
 
    “You…you’re taking over from you’re dad. You….”
 
 
    “Because I have to. It’d be wrong if I didn’t, it’d draw more attention than it’s worth. I’m his son, I’m the only one who can inherit the business.” Myungsoo’s eyes droop, and he looks so sad. “They made it clear how they feel about that.”
 
 
    Naeun gets the image of Myungsoo sitting here, all day every day, waiting for Naeun to come around. He remembers his days spent alone, and how Myungsoo would always look so scared when Naeun would decide to show up, when he decided he can’t take the separation any longer. Like Myungsoo never expected him to return. 
 
 
    He wonders if that’s why Myungsoo’s heart bleeds, because someone never came back or because Myungsoo isn’t allowed to. 
 
 
     “I’m so lonely, Naeun.” The admission isn’t audible, just the moving of lips and the parting of air. 
 
 
    That’s when Naeun understands that Myungsoo has known all along. Has suspected that Naeun must be with him for some superficial reason, and this is Myungsoo asking hrt to stay despite of it. That Naeun might be robbing him blind, but Myungsoo doesn’t care –– that he’s found some part of Naeun to be worth the days of solitude. Whatever the case, Naeun’s sure that has been holding Myungsoo’s heart in hrt hands all along. Myungsoo’s fragile heart in Naeun’s reckless hands.
 
 
    “I’m not what you need,” Naeun tries to say, but the words sound stupid said out loud. 
 
 
    “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Myungsoo admits, his eyebrows drawn together in an angry line. His hair still stands up in the back, and Naeun wants to smooth it down and kiss the bridge of his nose. Shee wants to tell him it’ll be okay. “I didn’t mean…to get attached.”
 
 
    Naeun shakes his head, and the next thing she knows she has her arms around Myungsoo, breathing in the scent of fax machines and Myungsoo’s laundry detergent, something soft and flowery. The words fall from Naeun’s mouth before she can filter them. “You weren’t like that for me. In the beginning, yeah. But, no, now –– Myungsoo, I’m sorry. I like you so much, you’re so good.” They come out in a jumbled mess, but the meaning is still intact, Naeun hopes. She starts to splutter more things out, but she’s cut off. 
 
 
    Myungsoo’s hands grasp at Naeun’s back, bunching in the thin sweat-jacket. “Please, don’t leave.”
 
 
    Naeun’s face is buried in Myungsoo, and she can’t imagine being anywhere else. She doesn’t want to be. “I’m not.”
 
 
 
 
    Myungsoo sits on Naeun’s couch with a smoothie in hand. His placid expression juxtaposes Naeun’s frenzied state as she rushes around the apartment. “Oh, frick, where’d I put it….” Naeun feels like she’s losing her mind, and it’s not because Myungsoo’s sitting on her couch watching her lose his mind. 
 
 
    “Are you sure?” Myungsoo asks for the umpteenth time, and Naeun rolls his eyes. 
 
 
    “Completely. Now shut up.” Naeun rushes back to her bedroom and brings out a white trash bag, trying to not trip over Gyogi as she, yes, they found that out, dances around Naeun’s feet. Shee’s in the process of getting rid of all the presents and gifts, and she’s just now realizing how much she’s hoarded in general. Myungsoo seems to think this behavior is extreme. “I just want to show you how serious I am about this,” Naeun reminds Myungsoo again, just like she’ll have to remind her in two, five, eight minutes. 
 
 
    Myungsoo sips his smoothie and acts like he has nothing better to do with his time than watch Naeun tear his apartment apart with a kitten running circles around his feet. Which he really doesn’t.
 
 
    “Bomi unnie finally’s ready to meet you,” Naeun calls over her shoulder.
 
 
    “Oh good.”
 
 
    After giving Gyogi a ball of tape to play with, Naeun reaches over the back of her couch to latch onto the back of Myungsoo’s neck. “I like you a lot.” She’s spilled his guts and told Myungsoo every gross detail about herself, that she’s trying to change, and that Myungsoo needs to help her. That’s why there’s a pile of bills on the table all addressed to Naeun, to be paid for by Naeun. 
 
 
    Myungsoo laughs into his smoothie. “I hope so.” Naeun likes the sound of amusement that comes from the back of the other’s throat. She likes the way she can hear Myungsoo’s heartbeat if she focuses just enough, and she likes the way that Myungsoo’s never pretended to love her. It’s all there for Naeun to see. 
 
 
    Myungsoo’s hand pounds the cushion beside him, and Naeun travels around the couch to sit beside Myungsoo, except Myungsoo has other plans. He pulls Naeun into his lap.
 
    “I really do like you,” Naeun says into the space between Myungsoo’s collarbone and neck. “We should start over. I’ll throw away all this crap and––”
 
 
    “We can’t start over.” And Naeun knows it’s true. There’s too much between them to erase and smooth over. “I don’t really…”
 
 
    “Want to,” Naeun finishes for him. She doesn’t either. She squeezes Myungsoo tighter, and that’s when she feels her back hit the couch cushions, and she’s looking up at Myungsoo’s face hovering over her. “I’ll…I’ll use the money to pay you back. You can have it all. I want––”
 
 
    Myungsoo’s lips over his own shut Naeun right up. “You.”
 
 
    And that’s exactly what she wants.