Jordan’s life was distinctly devoid of Chen for the next couple of days. It was odd; Jordan had gotten so used to hearing the subtle creak of the floors that announced Chen’s arrival. She found herself setting the table for two people, sitting on the left half of the couch in anticipation for to cuddle Chen, or waiting for a back hug that never came while she was making dinner. They were all subconscious actions Jordan never realized she did.

    For the next three days, Chen never came downstairs. On occasion she could hear his agitated footsteps against the wood flooring, but most of the time Jordan heard nothing but silence. The only indications of his existence was the flush of the toilet or the rushing sound of the running shower.

    She resorted to leaving him food by the bedroom door and sleeping on the sofa. The first night, when she tried to enter their bedroom, Chen brushed past her so quickly he was a blur, retreating downstairs. Jordan tried to push down the sting that his action brought, but it welled under her skin nonetheless.

    She had to keep reminding herself that it was his rut talking, that the Chen she knew was buried for now.

    It was odd, suddenly having him absent from her life. She had gotten so used to having him in the same room with her for nearly 24 hours of the day. Even their meals with Sylvia were cut short, Jordan had had to cite “illness” as Chen’s excuse for not going. Jordan was too worried to leave him in the house alone so she declined going as well.

    So Jordan continued on her own, suddenly aware of a new void that permeated into her days. She wondered when being alone had no longer become her norm.

    Finally, after three days, Jordan woke in the morning to Chen trying to snuggle up to her on the couch. His skin was no longer burning hot to the touch and Jordan savored the comfortable warmth.

Chen couldn’t seem to meet her eyes, always nuzzling his face into her neck. When Jordan pried his face away from her neck to take a better look at him, Chen relented, but his eyes avoided meeting hers. Instead, he pushed forward through her hands to brush his nose against hers; Jordan could feel his apologies brushing against her skin.

    Jordan could not deny that this new facet of Chen was a little nerve-wracking to her. But she acknowledged the concerted effort that Chen expended to reign it in and she appreciated it.

    Jordan rested her palm against his cheek and pressed her apology against his lips.

    The tension in the YG meeting room was so thick even a diamond knife would not have been able to cut it. The anger emanating from the president of the company - who had just stormed into the room - was tangible, rolling from him in waves, freezing every subordinate in the room. The remaining members of the board of executives, however, seemed unfazed.

    “Now that President Yang has arrived, we are free to start the meeting.” The Chairman drawled. He sat straighter in his chair and gestured to the screen behind him. “We are gathered here to address progress in Experiment 11, and whether to release its success to the public.”

    “What?!” The President shouted. “There’s no way of determining that the werewolf is ready!” His face was rapidly turning purple.

    “Oh, but there is, President Yang.” The Chairman countered with a smug smile. The screen lit up, showing footage and data released by the research team. It showed written transcripts of dialogue between the human research subject, the werewolf, and the human neighbor from next door. “He has had plenty of human interaction, in fact their neighbor seems quite fond of him.” Heads around the room nodded in assent as the screen changed, this time showing video of the werewolf holding the human subject to it in the car. “This shows the werewolf immediately after a werewolf transformation. It is clear here that he means the girl no harm. I say that this trial is a success. It has been nearly a year, and it is about time that we released the news to the public to placate them about upcoming legislation.”

    The remaining members of the board watched the President’s face with bated breath. The President’s hatred of Jordan Chang was well known throughout the company, and there were whispers among the researchers that there was no way that the President would ever let Jordan Chang be known to be the success of YG Research. But faced with blatant evidence of the trial’s success, even the President seemed to have no words and sat in stony silence, glaring at the Chairman.

    “I would like to call for a vote.” The Chairman called out. “A vote for a publicity event to make the world aware of the first success in human-variant relations! All in favor raise a hand.”

    All around the room, members of the board raised their hand, pointedly ignoring the purple-faced man who was indignantly glowering at them for their betrayal.

    “All not in favor please raise your hand.”

    One hand shot up.

    The Chairman smirked, clasping his hands together in front of them.

    “I would like to invoke Rule 17 stipulating that if the board of directors votes unanimously against the president, the president will concede to the wishes of the board.” The Chairman turned to a small group standing in the back of the room. “I thus assign the Public Relations and Advertising Departments to organize an event to showcase YG’s success to the world. I give you one week.” With a grin, he turned to face the board again. “Meeting dismissed.”

    No one spoke a word as the President of YG Research, powerless, stalked from the room.

    That very afternoon, mass invitations were sent around the world, inviting guests to witness - and potentially meet - Chen and Jordan Chang, the first successful trial in experiments pertaining to werewolf-human relations.

The invitees were diverse: those with inside information to the projects such as researchers and laboratory heads as well as those with no relevance to the projects at all like diplomats, dignitaries, socialites, and celebrities.

    When invitations reached Lab 11’s research team, it was not greeted with fanfare. It was like their carefully constructed world had shattered into pieces.

    TOP froze when he pulled out the card from the stiff envelope, reading the fancy script on the printed cardstock in shock. He silently held out the card to JiYong, whose entire being filled with anxiety and anger when he read the contents.

    “How could they not consult us?” He shouted in fury. “How could they do this? They can’t just yank research subjects out from a study and expect them to be fine!” The invitation shook in JiYong’s hands. The rest of the team hurried over and read the invitation with wide eyes.

    “What do we do?” YoungBae whispered. “We can’t resist the board.”

    “There’s nothing we can do.” JiYong said determinedly. “The only thing we can do at this point is to tell Jordan and prepare both of them accordingly.”

    “What do you mean?” DaeSung questioned.

    “Well, they’re throwing a full-on gala as the event. There’s going to be cameras, there’s going to be people staring at them. Jordan is going to hate every single aspect of that night and we need to warn her about it. I don’t even want to think about how Chen is going to feel, with all of the people and the flashing lights.” JiYong buried his face in his hands.

    “We also need to get them dressed and stuff, right?” YouongBae added. “They don’t have anything to wear.” JiYong snapped up at his addition.

    “You’re right, good thinking.” He pointed to DaeSung and YoungBae. “You two. We’re going to take Jordan and Chen to a stylist so they won’t be the laughingstocks of the world. I’m going to pay them a visit today to inform them about the gala.”

    “Why can’t we be the stylists?” TOP protested. “I want to play dress-up with the werewolf.”

    “Are you kidding me, TOP?” JiYong interjected. “At the last company function you wore a pink blazer that was too long and a pair of dock shoes. I am not putting any responsibilities involving fashion in your hands.” TOP placed a hand on his chest in shock.

    “Savage, JiYong. I didn’t think it was that bad!” He glanced around at the other members of the team. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” YoungBae shook his head and patted TOP’s shoulder.

    “I hate to break it to you buddy, but it was pretty bad.” He sighed at TOP’s pout. “It’s okay. You can only go up from here.”

    JiYong took a company car to Jordan’s house. It was a brief drive, seeing as they only lived two streets over. When he walked up to the house, he hesitated on the doorstep, he didn’t know how to break the news to Jordan. Hell, he wasn't sure if Chen would even let him through the door, especially if he perceived Jordan as a his potential mate. The more he stalled, the darker his thoughts became, and finally JiYong bit the bullet and knocked on the front door.

    “What are you doing here, Carrothead?” Was the flat greeting he received. He hadn’t expected anything less.

    “I am the harbinger of bad news, I’m afraid.” JiYong pulled the invitation from his pocket.

    “If you think it’s bad news, I don’t want to think about what it means for me.” Jordan grumbled before letting him in. She closed the door behind him before trudging into the kitchen and sitting down at the table. “Give it to me.” JiYong handed the envelope over, watching her face intently as she pulled out the contents of the envelope.

    He sighed at her darkening expression.

    “So basically,” Jordan snapped. “YG wants to parade me and Chen around a gala like some show dogs.” She dropped the invitation unceremoniously on the floor. “And we have no say in any of it.” She glared at JiYong, who couldn’t stop himself from recoiling.

    “We were surprised too, the board should have consulted us before making any decisions.” JiYong sank down into the chair opposite her with a sigh. “Though to be honest, the chances of keeping you and Chen out of the spotlight are getting slimmer and slimmer with the footage we’re sending in. We can only hide so much.”

    “Why are you hiding anything at all?” Jordan interrogated. “What do you guys serve to gain from hiding me and Chen?” JiYong looked her head in the eye.

    “We’re not villains, Jordan.” JiYong tapped his fingers against the table top.

    “Forgive me for not believing you.” Jordan deadpanned, impassive. “I should have known that none of this would last.” She glanced around the house, expression softening.

    “As your relationship with Chen develops, there’s going to be less and less that we can send into the lab.” JiYong said gently. Jordan glanced at him, but did not reply.

    Mission completed, JiYong moved on to the other subjects at hand.

    “Tomorrow, three of us are going to take you two to get clothing to wear to the gala. You can’t show up in casual wear.”

    “No , Sherlock.” Jordan huffed. “But for your information, you’re not going to get me into any glittery or lace -”

    “I’ll tell the stylist your preferences.” JiYong reassured her. “There won’t be anything outrageous. What color do you like?”

    “Black.” She retorted. “Like my soul.” JiYong rolled his eyes, but mentally noted it.

    “Just trying to help, Jordan.” He stood from his seat, getting ready to leave. “Be ready by noon. We’ll come pick you up. Make sure that Chen comes. Most of this is for him.”

    “Why tomorrow? Can’t we wait? The gala isn’t for a week.” Jordan groaned.

    “Chen is going to need to get a suit fitted for him and that will take time.” He chastised.

    “Fine, fine.” Jordan grumbled. “Now get out, Chen’s not going to want to stay upstairs forever because of you.” JiYong let himself be led out the door, giving a brusque wave in exchange for a goodbye.

    The next day found Jordan and Chen - whose lips were turned down in a uncharacteristic frown - sitting on the front porch waiting for the researchers to pick them up. Chen had been particularly reluctant to go anywhere that morning; it had taken forty-five minutes, ten kisses, and a bag of chicken nuggets to coax him out of bed. Even then, his shoulders were hunched in his obvious displeasure.

    Chen’s nostrils flared, back tensing. Jordan took it as a cue that the researchers were there; Chen had never been hostile towards cars before. Seconds later, Jordan watched as a car to their street. With a sigh, she heaved herself to her feet, tugging Chen up with her.

    She didn’t know what to expect of the day. She didn’t know if her hair was going to be tugged every which way for the sake of appearances. She was pretty sure that she was going to be dressed up like a Barbie doll. She didn’t look forward to it.

    Jordan couldn’t deny though, a corner of her mind was wondering how Chen would react to all of this. He was used to human interaction. He adored Sylvia, he tolerated - though he didn’t enjoy - the trips to the grocery store. He’d learned to reign in his curiousity when confronted with items that he didn’t recognize. But, there would be people taking his measurements, approaching him with pins at the ready, forced into and out of tight clothes; Jordan was a bit worried about what his reaction would be.

    But they got into JiYong’s car nonetheless. JiYong seemed surprised when Chen rolled down the window to loll his head out. Jordan just shrugged with a half-hearted smile; she didn’t feel like stopping Chen from doing something he enjoyed doing.

    “So,” JiYong began as he pulled out of their neighborhood, “YoungBae and DaeSung went straight to the stylist’s so we have room in the car. They wanted to take a look at what the stylist offered to see if they can find anything for themselves too.”

    “Wow, I didn’t know that you guys were fashionistas as a side job.” Jordan replied drily.

    “Science and fashion have some similarities, Jordan.” JiYong chuckled.

    “Yeah, the wrong combination of stuff and the entire thing blows up in your face?”

    “Yes, actually.” JiYong laughed. “TOP is a prime example. He thought he was being edgy. No one had the heart to tell him he just looked awful.”

    “Is he the one who’s already at the stylist’s?” Jordan raised an eyebrow in concern. While she didn’t care about appearances, but she didn’t want to be a laughingstock.

    “Of course not, but he wanted to.”

    The rest of the drive was quiet. After a few minutes of driving Chen retracted himself from the window and laid down, setting his head in Jordan’s lap. They went further into town, further than Jordan had ever ventured before. They passed by a shopping complex, the streets full of young people toting shopping bags, then a series of red-brick university buildings. Jordan’s gaze lingered as they drove passed; she wondered if university had ever been a part of her destiny.

    It was a long drive. Jordan lost track of time while mindlessly playing with Chen’s hair, watching the surroundings flit by. She only paid attention to the road when their small town surroundings transitioned into glass skyscrapers.

    “We’re almost there.” JiYong chimed. They waited in traffic until they reached a tall building of glass and stone.

    After parking in a reserved space, JiYong led Jordan and Chen into the building taking them up an ornate elevator to the seventh floor. Jordan couldn’t help but gape at the sheer amount of shiny that was around her. She wasn’t sure if gold crown-molding was necessary in an elevator. She glanced at Chen, looking for a similar reaction, but he was unperturbed, his eyes were focused on her instead.

    “We’re here.” JiYong interrupted as the doors opened. “YoungBae! DaeSung!” He called out to the two figures waiting in chairs in the room ahead.

    “Hi Jordan!” YoungBae called cheerfully. Jordan only responded with a reproachful look as they stepped from the elevator.

    “You gave me these two to work with?” A deep voice interrupted their minimal reaction. Jordan whirled around. Chen leaped a foot into the air, patches of his hair standing straight up from his surprise; even he hadn’t heard the stranger approach.

    A tall, middle-aged woman approached them, body draped in midnight blue velvet. Jordan gawked for a moment. The only word that could come to mind was: regal. When she thought stylist, this woman both met and surpassed her expectations at the same time.

    “Yes, Ma’am.” JiYong replied with a polite bow of his head. “They have a gala to get to next week.”

    “Call me Edna.” She responded. Edna circled the pair. Chen eyed her nervously, hand darting to brush against Jordan’s. She examined Jordan, looking her up and down. Edna’s hawkish eyes unnerved her, she couldn't help but feel small. “What’s your name?” The question made Jordan jump.

    “Jordan Chang.” She replied shakily. Edna’s eyes narrowed.

    “Why does your name sound familiar to me?” She continued. “A mediocre looking girl like you?”

    “I pissed some big people off.” She replied offhandedly. “They made sure to publicize my quote-on-quote demise very publicly.”

    “Hm.” Jordan thought she saw a hint of a smile along Edna’s lips. “I never was fond of politics, myself. Now, this one.” She pointed at Chen. “He has potential.” She circled Chen, gaze moving up and down his form. “Wide shoulders, narrow hips. A standard suit would emphasize that well. Maybe find something with a touch of color.” Chen flinched and shrunk away when Edna poked at his cheekbone. “Striking cheekbones, we’ll need to fix his hair to show that off. Good God, has he never gotten a haircut in his life? What is this mess?” Edna continued to mutter to herself until she suddenly straightened up. Jordan didn’t feel like telling her that Chen had never gotten a haircut before. Hair maintenance wasn’t exactly a part of a werewolf’s daily routine.

    “HyeJin!” Edna clapped her hands. “Take this young man to get measured. “YongSun, get out the Valentina suit with red detailing and the classic Yaeger. Eric, take him to get changed.”

    In a whirlwind of movement, Chen was tugged away. Half-formed protests fled his lips as he disappeared around the corner, dragged away by a man who was clearly much stronger than he looked. Jordan’s lips quirked at the look of panic he sent her, her name on his lips.  She couldn’t help but be amused; who knows what danger he thought he was in. The reality was that he was only being fitted for a suit.

    “It’s ok, Chen.” Jordan called out, “Just go with them.” He was out of sight but she knew that he could hear her.

    “Now for you.” Jordan startled, looking back at Edna. “Understated. Dignified.” They met eyes. “I have a feeling that that that that’s how you want to look.”

    “You read my mind.” Jordan replied. “Let’s keep the sparkly sparkly to a minimum.” The stylist snorted.

    “Oh, please, darling. Sparkly is cheap, and none of the clothing I put you in will be cheap. Let’s take your measurements first.” Edna pulled a measuring tape out of nowhere before tugging Jordan to another stretch of the room with a floor-length mirror. “Arms up.” She ordered. Jordan obeyed. While she had never gotten her measurements taken, she was sure that normally it took much more time. But within a minute or two, the measuring tape went from the top of her head to her toes, spanning her shoulders, around her chest and then around her hips, once the measuring tape even s around her upper thigh. Edna didn’t take down the numbers; she only whisked Jordan off again.

    Edna guided Jordan towards a room off to the side, which had clothing racks lining three of the walls, each rack stuffed with dresses. The fourth held another mirror, this one lined with white lights. “Now that I have your measurements, let’s get started.” Jordan calmly stepped into the dressing room. She didn’t understand why, but she was oddly at ease with Edna.

    “Strip, I’ll start with a few contrasting pieces and then we’ll see what styles you like. JiYong mentioned that you prefer dark colors.” Jordan hesitated, the usual numbing fear of showing her skin flickering through her bloodstream. Edna glanced over and frowned slightly when she noticed Jordan hadn’t moved.

    “Well?”

    With a sigh, Jordan stripped herself down to her bra and underwear. Placated, Edna returned her focus to the racks, turning around suddenly with a clothing bag in her hands and words on her lips, words that cut off at the sight of Jordan.

    She didn’t have to think for very long to know why.

    Her scars.

    This was the most exposed to the world they had ever been. Jordan knew what they looked like; angry, ragged, terrifying. There was no patch of unmarred skin, only an abstract painting of blood and rust.

    Jordan felt the urge to cover her stomach, but refused to give in to it. She stood strong, hands fisted at her sides, silently glaring Edna down. Even if Jordan liked her, this was something she could never get used to.

    Edna said nothing, only moving closer to the mirror and ping the clothing bag she held in her hand, beckoning Jordan forward. She complied, stepping towards the mirror. To her surprise, Edna turned her around, so the only thing she could see was another row of white bags.

    “There are monsters in the world.” Edna murmured, her voice barely a whisper above the sound of rustling fabric. “Raise your arms and pull them through the sleeves.” Jordan did as she was told and felt heavy fabric slip over her head and settle onto her skin. She glanced down to see gold beading lining her chest, heavy and itchy. When she tried to lift her arms, the beaded cap sleeves prevented them from moving any more than a couple of inches upwards. Even without the mirror, Jordan made her decision.

    “I don’t like this at all.” Jordan shifted her weight back and forth. “I’m a T-shirt and sweats kind of girl, beading was never really practical for what I used to do. Don’t really like showing all of this.” Jordan gestured at her bare arms. “People give too many looks, they assume things.” Edna narrowed her eyes at Jordan’s words, moving back towards the racks. She tugged two garment bags out and placed them on separate hooks on the wall.

    “I can give you two options.” Edna looked her in the eye. “Neither is better than the other.”

    “What do you mean?” Jordan wondered.

    “I can tell that you’re a strong girl.” Edna responded. “There are two ways to show it. You can put on a facade, step out of your comfort zone and show your experiences to the world. Exemplify to those who wronged you that their tortures no longer affect you.” Edna pulled off the garment cover off of one dress.

    Jordan admitted that is was a beautiful dress: sleek and a dark emerald green. But it wasn’t her. Her eyes were drawn to the cut outs on the sides, the deep V-neck and the high thigh slit.

    Jordan shook her head.

    “That isn’t me. The dress, I mean.” Edna nodded.

    “I had a feeling that that was the case.” She pulled the cover off of the second. “Your next option is to stay the same. Keep how you are as a person to show that no matter what they do to you, you haven’t changed.” Jordan let out a weary smile at that. Wasn’t that what she had been doing all along?

    “I can do that.” Edna grinned at her response.

    “Then let’s try this one on you.” Jordan cast a hopeful glance at the smile that stretched across Edna’s face after the dress settled around Jordan’s frame. “Hang on, let me grab something. Don’t you dare move and don’t look into the mirror behind you either.” Jordan nodded, awkwardly shuffling in place while Edna dashed out of the room. She heard a clutter emanate from the other room, but the stylist was back after a minute or two. “Part your lips. I want to try this on you.” Jordan tried not to grimace at the feeling of the thick lipstick, but she stuck it out. For fashion, she guessed. When she finished, Edna turned her around.

    Even though Jordan stood still, the dress swayed with an invisible wind. It draped gracefully to the floor, rustling with every brush against the carpet. The full sleeves were silk against her scars, a graceful shield. A black braided belt cinched a waist from her unremarkable figure, the jet black bodice lengthened her form. Jordan shifted, and the fabric rippled, subtly shimmering in the dressing room light.

    Jordan’s smile seemed to be confirmation enough for Edna.

    “Best quality silk you can find on the market.” she noted. “If you want to dress it up, I’m sure I can find you a few statement necklaces. If that isn’t your style, I’d recommend switching out the belt with a brighter color, that would probably be the best place for a pop of color.” Jordan nodded.

    “What color do you think would be best?”

    “I have a yellow belt that would work nicely.”

    “How yellow are we talking?”

    “Think muted marigold.”

    “What the is a marigold?”

    “It’s a flower - just leave it to me, Jordan. What is your shoe size?”

    “Eight.”

    “Perfect. Change and go out into the waiting area, your boy should be ready now. This fits you nearly perfectly, but I’ll put some finishing touches on it with the measurements I took earlier and then I’ll have JiYong send it to you in a couple of days. We can take care of your hair on the day of the gala.”

    “Okay.”

    Jordan dressed in a hurry and went out into the waiting room. The researchers were all there in chairs. A man immediately appeared out of nowhere with another. Jordan took a seat.

    “All sorted, Jordan?” JiYong inquired. She nodded in response. “Good. Chen’s had his hair cut and they had him all measured and stuff. They’re trying him out in a suit right now they’ll be out in a minute.” The three researchers chuckled.

    “It was a little difficult to get him into a suit, apparently.” DaeSung said. “Not that I blame him, they’re constricting as all hell.”

    As he spoke, there was a great commotion as two men wrestled Chen back into the room. Jordan was surprised that Chen had the self control to resist throwing the two into the wall.

    “Chen.” She called out as she approached him. He stilled at the sound of her voice, relief immediately flooding his expression.

    So intent was Jordan on getting him to calm down that she did not notice what he was wearing. It was only when the two men, now armed with pins, maneuvered him in front of the mirror, did she notice.

    Jordan’s breath caught in her chest.

    They’d trimmed his hair; it no longer hung shaggy and unkempt. It was swept up, showing off his forehead and sharpening his cheekbones.

    Jordan was familiar with Chen’s body. She’d seen it every day as he wandered around without a shirt on, she felt it when she woke up next to him in the mornings. But somehow, she never could have imagined that he would look better with clothes on.

    The suit emphasized all of her favorite qualities, and drew her attention to those she hadn’t noticed before. The sharp cut of the suit emphasized his wide shoulders, the lapels hanging nicely against his strong chest. The stiff white collar of the dress shirt drew attention to his adam’s apple as he swallowed. The shirt had yet to be buttoned - most likely Chen’s decision - and the sliver of skin had Jordan swallowing back a sudden drip of heat in her gut. The form-fitting pants showcased how narrow his hips were, and Jordan was suddenly aware of the thigh muscles that she hadn’t paid attention to before.

    Jordan cleared , suddenly aware of a certain dryness there. She pointedly ignored the slow burning in her belly at the thought of tearing the shirt off.

    Chen suddenly turned to look at her, eyes meeting hers. Jordan flushed with embarrassment, remembering that he could sense her body temperature change, potentially smell any pheromones coming off of her. She glared at him, even as a self-confident smirk appeared on his face as he rifled his fingers through his hair. Both of them missed the sounds of distress emitting from the stylists as he ruined his hairstyle.

    “That took so long!” One of the stylists groaned.

    “Dude, the hair is the least of our worries. Who’s going to tell Edna that this kid ripped through three Lorenzini dress shirts?”

    Jordan was trembling in the foyer of the house as she waited for the limousine to take them to the gala venue. Her ankles shook, despite her week of practicing how to walk in heels. Her fingers were frozen with both nerves and the cold. Even her breaths rattled in her chest with each inhale and exhale.

    She was terrified.

    She had never been faced with the prospect of being in this situation. Even when she had been living a normal life, she would never have thought she would be going to a gala, let alone a gala thrown for the sole purpose of showing her off to the world. She’d been an introvert her entire life. She was strong and she knew it, but Jordan also knew that she was camera-shy, that she hated attention, that she much preferred being a wallflower than the centerpiece.

    Lost in her thoughts, Jordan fiddled with the ring on her finger, the ring that was progressively getting looser and looser as the her skin tightened with the cold.

    At the sound of floorboards creaking, Jordan whirled around to see Chen, heavily scowling as he tugged at his collar. His hands were full, holding cufflinks, the bowtie, and the handkerchief. Jordan couldn’t keep herself from smiling at the sight, taking the items from Chen’s hands. She began with the cufflinks, adjusting the silver pieces at his wrists. Then it was the handkerchief. Jordan’s brow wrinkled in concentration as she folded it as per Carrothead’s instructions before tucking it into Chen’s pocket.

    Jordan held the bowtie up to Chen, ignoring the the whining noises he was emitting. She knew he hated it. He hated how it constricted him. Well, the entire get up constricted him, but he seemed to hate the bowtie the most. She cupped his cheek with one hand, hoping to placate him enough to keep him still. Chen allowed her to tie the piece around his neck, albeit begrudgingly. When she finished, Chen didn’t pick at it like Jordan knew he wanted to, but he kept shifting his shoulders, trying to give himself some wiggle room within the suit.

    Just in time, Jordan heard the sound of tires on asphalt. Quickly tugging Chen out the door, she locked the door behind her, pulling Chen forward so she could slip the keys into his jacket pocket.

    The car ride was silent and filled with tingling energy. Jordan’s palms were sweaty, and she did all she could to stop herself from wiping her hands off on her dress. She settled for the car seat, deciding that ruining the luxurious car interior could be her small revenge against YG. But even then, her nerves did not settle, and Jordan could feel herself trembling.

    She tried to breathe, tried to reassure herself that things would be okay. It was only going to be a few hours and that would be it. Carrothead told her that she wouldn’t need to talk. She would only need to smile at the cameras and stay with Chen. She might need to take a picture with the YG president - she would rather die than do so - but she would have to endure it.

    Warmth encompassing her hand broke her from her thoughts. Jordan turned her head to face Chen, who sent her a small smile. He squeezed her hand, the heat from his hand flowing from her fingertips up her arms. Jordan exhaled shakily, clinging tightly to his hand.

Chen. As long as Chen was there, she would be fine.

    The limousine pulled up to the venue, which was glittering with flashing lights. There were already paparazzi clamoring forward to greet the car, pushing past each other to get the first shot. Jordan closed her eyes and took a few more breaths. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Chen’s concerned face intently watching her. She nodded at him before opening the car door.

    Immediately, her senses were flooded with lights and sound. There were camera flashes and indistinguishable shouted words flying at her from all directions.

    “Jordan.” There it was, barely distinguishable amongst all of the noise, Chen’s voice. Jordan used it to ground herself, looking at the one person who could make her feel comfortable. She felt the brush of his hand against her elbow; she saw his eyes, questioning. He’d stepped out of the car and didn’t know where to go.

    Right.

    Jordan gathered her wits about her, eyes scanning around her to look for the entranceway. There were ushers all around, gesturing towards the venue entrance, where there were people in equally fancy dress entering the building. Jordan linked her arm with Chen’s, feeling his warmth through her thin sleeves, before walking down the pathway.

    Chen was oddly calm. Jordan expected him to be at least a little curious about what was going on, but he seemed wholly uninterested. He was unperturbed by the flashing lights and shouting, even if they most likely hurt his vision and his hearing. His breaths were calm and controlled, betraying nothing of his potential emotions. He gazed at her and Jordan took reassurance from his eyes.

    They could do this.

    They stepped through the doors.

***

All the love for Shooka24 for beta'ing, even though she's a dumb. (See below)

Hi guys! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, I was drowning in finals and am currently drowning in an internship. But I'm super motivated and really appreciate you all and your support, especially because we reached 500 SUBSCRIBERS!!! I love you guys, you all are amazing. 

Special shoutouts to: ooh_sayhun, CarrotTofu, aesthereal, Poutyfacezico, TwentySeven, ChiShika, Alethea12, jaellokayi and Shooka24 (you why you gotta keep unupvoting and then reupvoting you just want to get your name in here I swear). Thank you guys so much for upvoting! 

As usual, leave comments, I read each and every one of them and love them a lot! See you next update.

***

Special appearance from one of our lovely betas: Shooka24

First off: HEY. I TAKE OFFENSE IN THAT. -.- I’m only trying to help you list upvoters but I keep forgetting that only you have the ability to actually see each person... Anyways...

Hey friends~ Thanks so much for supporting Calliope11's story. It’s crazy to think that this story started almost 2 years ago and is as long as it is.(Secret leak: While she had the entire plot thought out she didn’t expect it to go over 20 chapters and that’s what it’s starting to look like.) This story is her baby but as one of her betas I've grown immensely attached to it as well and our chats post story update are usually full of comment screenshots because you guys are just the best. I absolutely love them. You guys are all so adorable and your reactions are the greatest. So thank you. Anyways I need to cut this short before Calliope11 gives me the stink eye for having a longer beta note than the actual author’s note.