Baekhyun Byun was a nobody before he met Yongsun Kim. 

The local high school forgot to add him to the yearbook. Twice. He worked on the committee for Pete’s sake. Pete, his seat neighbor in Chemistry, coerced him into the time-wasting club. “If the pretty girls won’t date you, here’s a way to get off at the end of the day.” Disgusted by the objectification of women, Baekhyun Byun immediately joined. 

These tragically girlfriendless high school experiences mirrored the constant rejection he faced during college. “Go Back Beck” was his nickname: a term of endearment referring to the reaction women had when he sauntered over. Confidence, charisma, character: these were the qualities he lacked staring with “c” alone. 

Mere days after graduating, an architect with a bottomless dream and hungry student loans, Baekhyun Byun met Yongsun Kim. When, where, what, he remembered the moment he thought, “This woman must be illegal, because she just broke into my heart.” At 2:38pm. On Daytona Beach. In a strapless, blue and white striped bikini. 

Kicking long legs against a bouncing bottom, she said, “You’re in dire need of a tan, darling.”

Hours spent sunbathing resulted in a Florida-shaped sunburn across his back. Cackling like a hyena, she applied ointment to those hard-to-reach places for the remainder of the weekend. Weekdays later, they were dating. Years later, married. 

The man reflected in her eyes was confident, charismatic, bursting at the seams with character. She heard the stories from Pete. Flipped through the unsigned yearbooks. Catcalled, “Come back to bed, Baek,” every morning. 

Lucky didn’t begin to describe it. Everything went according to plan.

“I’ve got two faces, darling.” Giggles shaking her frame, Yongsun Byun gleefully shrieked, “Two faces! Two!”

Baekhyun Byun loved his job at the realtor’s office. The rewards for creating a family’s dream house were more than secondhand happiness. Holding tight to a gift of foreign chocolates, the architect wrapped arms round his wife. Mere minutes after the wedding ceremony, he spent ten minutes practicing the title “my wife” in the bathroom. 

The statement garnered the envy of both strangers and friends.

Dealing with her regular slips from sobriety into drunken stupors, marked by alarmingly coquettish behavior, was worth every privileged utterance. Pete was besides himself at the wedding, conspiracy theories about the universe’s sudden rejection of the golden rule — “nice guys finish last” — often consumed their subsequent conversations. Wheein Jung took pity on his plight to sport a trophy so sizable.

Guilt was evident in her inflection of, “It wasn’t my shift so by the time I got here.” With a pointed finger, she directed towards Mrs. Byun. “Well we know how persuasive she can be."

Image distorted by the glass she held up to half-lidded eyes, she pressed the issue, “Two!” 

After some awkward stumbling and a car ride turned karaoke booth, Baekhyun successfully escorted his wife to their bedroom. Wandering hands clutched at loose clothing, coos muffled by a mouthful of pillow. 900 count sheets  — the price tag haunted him to this very day. Feet away from the promise of a warm bath and she said the magic words.

“Come back to bed, Baek.”

Calculative web weaved tight, she caught him. Pulled his tie. Dragged him down. Peppered kisses along a quivering throat. “It’s been so long since you sang for me, darling.” 

A comment laced with a command. Said by a pretty woman wanting more than flattering pictures. “The mother of my children,” Baekhyun wished aloud — successfully damning the hope at its earliest and most needy of stages.

Love is blind: a common saying used to describe destructive relationships. Man debilitates reality for fantasy’s sake. Love has nothing to do with it. Everyone chases happiness. 

“I love you.”

Mrs. Baekhyun Byun was but a mask Yongsun Kim wore. And she wore it oh-so-well.

“Fancy a pastry for the road, Detective Zhang?”

As Wheein predicted, the dog was fond of digging holes. Sehun Oh’s missing poster circulated through suburbia. The locals didn’t devolve into distressed disarray. Captain Wu maintained low expectations for the residential horndog’s return. Commitment issues ran rampant in paradise. 

“No thank you, ma’am.”

Yixing Zhang spent the good part of his morning staking out Mrs. Byun’s bakery: Pink Funky. A vacation day’s hours wasted. While the weary man moved to depart — looking like a kicked puppy — Mr. Byun entered the humble establishment.

“Good day, Detective.”

“Is it, Mr. Byun? There’s a troubling cloud layer settling in this afternoon.”

“A man can only wish for the best.”

“How true.” Tipping a hat, Yixing left to chase more promising avenues.

Oblivious to the problems on the horizon, Baekhyun ignored his suspicious appearance at Yongsun’s stoop. The popular trope surrounding officers and donuts helped put his mind at ease. Besides, her ponytail swung back and forth. The world kept spinning.

“Who’s getting married?”

She turned in the “employee only” kitchen, apron tied tight. His thighs felt tighter. Last Sunday was a bust thanks to a certain charming bartender. Baekhyun Byun wanted children. Pete blamed the familial aspiration on a lack of affection. Father to five, he said, “Children are born when people lose reasons to love each other.” His sixth child was already en route. 

“Captain Wu decided to lay off the donuts long enough to nab a wife.”

Inspecting the half-finished wedding cake, Baekhyun noted, “He’s allergic to chocolate.” 

She snickered at his sheer wealth of naivety. “When it comes to marriage, it never matters what the man wants, darling.”

The duality of Yongsun Kim lay in her ability to bend, yet remain unbreakable. 

A/N: Inspired by Beyonce and the following gif. Thoughts on this "perfect" couple?