“Are you cooking?” Youngji asked in disbelief as she opened the door. It was Monday, meaning it had been two days since I had contact with Jackson. Aside from his threat, which wasn’t objectively very harsh, repeating itself in my head at every and all chance it got, I hadn’t heard from him. I was getting nervous, because my male clothing was selling fast, and I needed him. I had to keep up my part of the deal, even if it meant exploiting sweet, sweet Youngji. Of course, I felt bad about it. I looked over to her cluelessly taking in the smell of the food I was preparing, loving it too much to question why I was cooking for the first time in so long. I felt more than a little bad. 

“Why yes I am, my adorable, brilliant, lovely roommate.” She smiled and I pat her head lovingly. Still too hungry to question my abnormal behavior, apparently. “By the way, did you happen to get the rent money yet?” 

“Not yet, you know I’m working on it. My mom still isn’t responding to my messages about it.” I knew that was a lie. I got worried for her mom a week back, and I called to make sure everything was okay. Things were as good as ever, and she even threw in the fact that Youngji hadn’t made any effort to contact her. I simply smiled back at her, letting all my guilt fly out the window with the fumes of my cooking. Youngji leaned over, opening , asking for a taste. 

“This is a reward for you working hard, so I don’t want you to taste it until it’s perfect. I’m missing some spices, though. I wrote them down on that list over there, can you please go ask our new, lovely neighbors if they have some to spare?” Youngji groaned, as expected, and stomped over to the countertop, picking up the list while throwing a fit. She was halfheartedly on her way to the door when I shouted behind her, “Oh, and I made a lot, invite our neighbors over while you’re at it.” She rolled her eyes to began with, but she ended up glaring at me with murderous intentions when I reminded her to smile, or at least look mildly pleasant. 

It was true that I had cooked way more portions of pasta than Youngji and I could ever finish, but I didn’t expect that she’d come back with six boys trailing behind her, none of which who were Jackson. As soon as they walked into our apartment, my nostrils widened after being hit with the unavoidable scent of sweat. I turned around to find them drenched in sweat, dressed in casual clothing. 

“It was really nice of you to invite us over!” The one with the annoyingly white smile thanked us. He proceeded to introduce himself and every other member with him. 

“It was no problem at all.” I murmured through my fake smile. He handed me a bag full of the ingredients I needed. “Thank you. It should be ready in just a few minutes. Make yourselves at home, or go change clothes. Anything really.” They nodded and plopped themselves on our couch, obviously not getting the hint that I wanted them to leave before my house was completely contaminated. It was hard to keep up with six guys walking around my apartment, touching my inventory. 

“Hey, I saw Jackson wearing this the other day.” The one called Bambam held up a sweater and put it to his chest. I was torn between continuing to watch the toasting garlic bread, or walking over and snatching it from him. I had to play good host, though, I knew. 

“Yeah, he’s actually agreed to model for me, like a good neighbor.” I responded, finishing up our meal and plating it. “Where is he, actually?” 

“He stayed back to practice.” Jaebum answered. I pursed my lips together, and called the Backstreet Boys over to our table. It had always been very accommodating for Youngji and I alone, but with eight people waiting to be seated, we instantly seemed lacking. We didn’t even have enough chairs, Youngji and I had to sit on step stools. 

Playing host exhausted the hell out of me, and I was just waiting for any chance to sneak away from the mess that was these guys’ eating habits. Youngji had even retired her plate to her lap to get away from the battlefield. I had barely taken two bites of a piece of garlic bread when they were already asking for seconds. There went my plan of making enough food to last a week. 

“Should we leave enough for Jackson?” The youngest, Yugyeom asked the others before digging into his second plate. 

“His loss.” Youngjae answered without any hesitation. 

“You said he was helping you out for the sake of being neighborly earlier, right?” Bambam questioned in between bites. I nodded, trying my best to hide my frustration. 

“That doesn’t sound like him at all.” Jinyoung finished Bambam’s thought. “You must have something he wants.” 

I shook my head profusely, begging every possible higher power that my face wouldn’t turn red. I was a horrible liar, since youth. Stretching the truth, I could do. Lying when not being paid attention to, I could also do. But as soon as all eyes were on me and there wasn’t a drop of truth in my claims, my face went deep red and my words had no salvation from being jumbled. I glanced over at Youngji, who was miserably holding a side conversation with Mark, to make sure she wasn’t suspecting anything. 

“She definitely has something he wants.” I gulped and glanced at Jaebum. The more I listened, the more I knew he oozed authority. He must be their leader, I guessed. “A pulse.” 

The rest of the boys, aside from Mark who was now listening to Youngji explain what she was studying, roared with laughter at Jaebum’s remark. I looked around, relieved that I was no longer on the spot, but confused as to why this concept was particularly funny. They saw my confusion, clearly. 

“Don’t take it the wrong way, we were just teasing.” Jinyoung commented, smoothing the creases that had formed on his face after laughing. 

“Yeah, Jackson’s desperation is often a subject of our comedy routines.” Jaebum reassured. 

“Desperation?” I repeated.

“Well, I’d say he’s more of a hopeless romantic.” Youngjae answered.

“Emphasis on the ‘hopeless’.” Bambam finished, causes everyone to chuckle once again. 

“I just assumed since you’re in the business that you are, you’d have to be selective.” 

“We’re as selective as we have to be. But Jackson falls for a beautiful face every week.” Jaebum informed me, and the rest of their nods confirmed it. 

“If you’re his next target, good luck. He has serious commitment issues. He’ll be done with you a week after he has you.” 

I looked over at Youngji, who was absentmindedly explaining a mathematical concept to Mark, who was either in a complete daze, or no longer paying attention. I suddenly felt terrible about dragging her into this mess that she would now have to be a part of. If I actually hooked she and Jackson up, and she actually fell for him, would he be done with her in a week too? I had never seen her involved with anyone after her last bad breakup, when she had just moved in. We barely knew each other then, but there was no doubt that her cries made me severely uncomfortable. She didn’t know I was an insomniac then, and she thought she was being sneaky. I heard her every night for months, growing more fond of her in the process. There was no way I could handle that again right now. She was a pain, I admitted at every chance possible, but she was the closest thing to a sister I had and would probably ever have. I was way too attached now to let her go through with that. 

“Semi?” Bambam interrupted my thoughts. I raised my eyebrows to show that I was listening. “Do you have more bread?” 

I glanced over at the stove and confirmed that I had no more. 

“I’ll go get some right now. The bakery isn’t too far.” I was way happy to get out of the mess that my house had become. Walking out of the apartment struck me very somber today. It was still very cold, very breezy, and the twilight always made me sad. I zipped up my jacket and walked to the corner bakery with my hands in pocket. I tried to elongate my stay as much as possible, thinking about what the rest of our neighbors had said about Jackson. I contemplated what effect helping him would bring about, ultimately contemplating not following through at all. 

As much as I wanted to do that, a promise was a promise, no matter who it was made to. 

There was no way to make my trip to the bakery last any longer, and so I figured I would it up and go home. Well, to the chaos that had become my home. 

I sighed, walking out into the brisk air again, but was interrupted from my evening melancholy session when an arm was thrown around me. I jumped up, hitting the person with my bag of fresh bread as a reflex. 

“Geez, Semi, turn down the paranoia.” my coworker responded. Hyunsu rubbed the side of his face, just near the corner of his eye, where my weapon had apparently hit him. He was all clad in our delivery shop’s bright yellow uniform. I chuckled at how ridiculous he looked, but stopped, realizing that it was what I looked like five days a week. 

“We’ve worked together long enough for you to know that sneaking up on me is a sure way to get a bruise.” He nodded at my statement, leading his eyes to the spot that was still raw. He pouted, causing me to roll my eyes. “ it up, baby.” 

“You’re cruel. Haven’t you taken some online first aid course? Shouldn’t you be a compassionate nurse?” 

“Only for those who deserve it.” I let the smile that was creeping on my face during the conversation surface. Hyunsu returned it warmly. “What are you doing out here anyway?” 

He raised his eyebrow at me while bringing his hand to his his helmet. I nodded, acknowledging my own stupidity. 

“You can be really dim sometimes.” Hyunsu chuckled. 

“I have a lot on my mind right now, don’t make fun.” I pouted back. 

“Does Semi want to talk about it for once?” Whenever my feelings were addressed, Hyunsu would always switch to third person, hoping that it would somehow get me to open up to him. It never worked, and he didn’t seem to understand the scientific method enough to rework his hypothesis. 

“Semi does not,” I replied, sighing. “Semi just really doesn’t want to go back to her apartment.” 

“Would Semi prefer to finish my shift and clock me out?” He pointed at the motorbike that had the metal delivery box on it. My eyes lit up for a second, seeing this as my chance to escape the unruly boyband trashing our table. 

“Semi very much would. If Hyunsu wants to make a final delivery to her apartment.” He nodded, sealing the deal. We switched cargo, and I wore his uniform, content that I would get to sneak away, and go for a nighttime ride. 

Yes, the twilight and the wind makes me upset, but I can’t say it does the same when it’s flashing by. It’s like a cleansing. Hyunsu and I bid our goodbyes, and I set off for the address that was not too far from where we were. Like I expected, the cool air hit my face deliciously. It was disappointing when the ride ended, which made me want to deliver this order as fast as possible to get back and experience it again before clocking Hyunsu out. I rushed into the entertainment agency building, not bothering to take into account how large or elaborate it seemed, instead wanting to get back to my simple pleasure. The woman at the information desk was kind enough to quickly point me on my way. I was headed up to the third floor so quickly, in anticipation to leave, that I didn’t take note of my surrounding, or the fact that there were huge pictures of the artists belonging to that agency plastered everywhere. If I had been aware, I would’ve been more unwilling to deliver the chicken, and I certainly wouldn’t be skipping to the room the woman pointed out to me. 

I knocked before entering, but of course the person who ordered wouldn’t be able to hear me over the dance track that was bumping in the background. I cringed when I entered, as the music got louder, at practically an unbearable volume. The person must have noticed me while I was setting the metal box on a nearby table, ready to take out their order, because the music paused and silence filled the room. 

“Here’s your order!” I said, in my cheeriest ‘I’m a really good employee who cares about this product, please continue to order more’ voice, while turning to face the dancer. I almost dropped the chicken in shock at the realization that the dancer was no more than a foot away from me. The boy standing in front of me, drenched in sweat, gasping for air, eyes looking tired and dead was none other than Jackson Wang. 

“Are you stalking me?” He breathed out, in a voice that sounded pained. I knew he was trying to be his rumored humorous self, but nothing could possibly sound funny when someone looked that exhausted. 

“Why are you still here?” I questioned genuinely. “Everyone else got home ages ago.” It was hard not to be concerned when the man in front of you looked like he was about to collapse, even if the possibility of that man becoming someone you hated was swimming around in your head not too long ago. 

“How do you know?” His voice was clearer and less strained after he took a sip of water, but it was still hard to listen to. 

“They’re at our place. We invited them over for dinner.” Again, he tried to be himself, but he was far too tired to even form an appropriate expression. What I assumed was his attempt at looking offended came out as him looking even more prone to fainting. I decided to humor him anyway, since I pinned him to be the type that didn’t like concern. “Your loss. You chose our world class chicken over my world class cooking.” 

I set the box of chicken he ordered out for him on the floor, since there didn’t appear to be a table for him to eat anywhere. 

“If you cooked, how are you here delivering?” He asked, sounding much better after regaining more of his breath. 

“I ran into a coworker while getting more food to feed the army. They’re a collective glutton.” I scanned all of the food he had ordered for himself. “And by the looks of it, you aren’t shy of being one too. I ran into my coworker and decided to finish his delivery instead of going home.” 

“Were they making you uncomfortable?” He asked, already reaching for the chicken, eating like he hadn’t in days. 

“Somewhat.” I said, honestly. I wasn’t able to lie, after all. 

“How so?” He asked. I wanted to feel like he cared about the answer, but it was hard to feel like the attention was on you when the other person in the conversation was busy devouring a meal for eight by himself. 

“They just said some things…” I let my voice trail off, hoping that he wouldn’t care enough about elaboration. I wasn’t sure I was ready for a confrontation, or if I even knew what kind of confrontation I would have. 

“About?” He asked, to my displeasure. 

“You.” I replied, meekly. 

“What about me?” He was genuinely curious, I could tell, because he stopped eating and placed his full attention on me. 

“Nothing too serious,” I started babbling nervously, “just a couple of things about you, here and there, being a hopeless romantic and whatnot. More focused on your lack of commitment and habit of dropping girls once you have them, or something.” I finished my thought as quickly as possible, hoping it would be too quick for him to follow. 

“That’s not entirely true.” He replied after some thought. 

“Entirely?” I repeated. 

“Well, maybe in the past. But if you’re worried about Youngji or something, don’t. I’m serious about her.” His face was determined. 

“You’ve spoken to her maybe once, how can you tell that you’re serious about her?” I replied, letting the frustration become evident in my voice. 

“Because, I just know. It sounds weird now, I know, but trust me, she’s different.” I rolled my eyes, having heard this speech so many times about every girl in existence. 

“You might not believe me now, I wouldn’t either,” he continued, “ but I want to prove to those guys that I’m more committed than they think. I’m not hopeless, or desperate. Just because I want love doesn’t mean I am. I want to prove I can commit, and I’ve chosen to commit to her.” 

“What if she doesn’t want to commit to you?” I stood up, leaving him on the ground. “How do you know she’ll even like you?” 

“I just know.” 

“You can’t force someone to like you.” I clenched my fist. “She isn’t a hunk of clay, you can’t mold her into your dream girl.” 

I left the room before he could retaliate. I was too angry at the thought of his romanticization of Youngji to think rationally. Maybe he had some point he couldn’t articulate well enough regarding love, and how it had anything to do with Youngji, but it wasn’t the right time to say it. 

My peaceful night time ride turned into a cool down for my anger. I spent the rest of the night, awake, worried about Youngji, and what this would do to her. 

Today has been a good day. I'm going to see Epik High in San Francisco, so that's cool!

Anyway, thank you for reading, and let me know what you think so far! 

J