In a flash, before Wonho even sees me coming, I lunge towards him and slam him against the wall with my forearm. His eyes widen as he desperately grabs at my arm.

    “Who- are- you?” he chokes out.

    I hold up the black bingo book. “Tell me where you got this from in 5 seconds, or else.”

    Wonho’s eyes grow even larger when he sees the book. “I- I don’t know what that is- ah!” He winces as I press my neck even harder against the wall.

    “Three seconds.”

    “Someone gave it to me!” he finally blurts out.

    “Who?”

“V. From BTS.”

My jaw clenches. Himchan’s words echo in my mind.

V- a real nasty guy from BTS- killed Yongguk’s girlfriend. That’s what launched BTS into the position of being the most powerful gang of Seoul. They’re twice as powerful as any of the old group ever was.

So not only did BTS ruin Yongguk’s life, but destroyed mine, too.

Wait. But that makes no sense. Why would someone from a new group have a book with hit lists from years ago, before his gang was even formed?

    “C-Can’t breathe,” Wonho sputters below me. My eyes snap back to him. His face is turning a distinctive shade of blue. I loosen my grip on him and he collapses to the floor, massaging his neck and desperately gasping for air. Out of the corner of my eye I see him reach for a knife in his pocket- I quickly kick it away from him.

    “I don’t think so,” I utter coldly.

    “Who are you?” he whispers.

    I contempfully look down at him.

    “You’ll find out soon enough, ,” I say, and walk away.

    As soon as I am out of his line of vision, I yank my face mask off and put my hair back down. Mission accomplished. Now time to get the hell out of here. I withdraw my phone from my pocket and am about to text Sora- when I get a call from her first.

    “Hey, I was just about to call you,” I say. “I-,”

    “Holy , Hyo, they found out,” she tells me in a rapid whisper. “Wonho must have reported you to security, because there are guards going around right now looking for suspicious people.”

    My jaw drops. I immediately beeline for the stairs so I can get to the dance floor again. “.”

    “They’re not making much progress, though, because it’s so dark and they don’t want to ruin the party. Just act natural.”

    “Got it.” I hang up and push myself into the middle of the club again. Bodies writhe around me as I join them in moving to the music, acting like I have been here the entire time, partying and dancing and having a good time. All I see are neon colors and the occasional flash of white fabric and the bitter scent of alcohol is all around me and everything seems so intense-

    And then a pair of hands rests on my hips from the back.

    “Hey, gorgeous,” a low, husky voice murmurs in my ear. “Let’s dance.”

    I an eyebrow. On any other occasion, I would snap back a snarky retort and push this man away, but I need to blend in. I roll my hips against him and a slight groan of pleasure leaves his lips. The dance floor is so crowded that our bodies are completely pressed together; I can feel his chest rising and falling as I grind against him, my lips slightly parted as his hands roam my body, touching all the right places like he knows what turns me on. I tip my head back on his shoulder and savor the sensation of his bare skin on mine and holy , I cannot believe I am saying this but Sora was right: the wilder it is, the more fun everything turns out to be.

I feel like I am doing something I am not supposed to right now, wandering into forbidden territory; I am not supposed to be dancing with a half- man who I do not even know- who I have not even seen. Everything- from the bass thumping in the club to the psychedelic neon colors to the way the paint on his skin is rubbing onto mine, the yellow neon paint on my lower back blending with the blue on his abs- contributes to the sense of exhilaration building up in my chest. Holy , this feels so good. His fingers trail to my lower thighs and I squirm with pleasure as he massages the skin right there-

    “Oh,” I moan, my breath coming out in short pants, and I hear him smirk. His lips latch onto the side of my neck and and I hiss in a strange mixture of pain and pleasure. It feels like we are practically ing in the middle of the dance floor. This is so wrong, holy -

    And then the man drags his finger across my neck, leaving a thick line of red paint.

    “Just like what you did to ZE:A,” he murmurs, his lips hovering over my ear.

    I freeze.

    My mouth is agape in absolute horror as the man slips something into my bikini top- something small, smooth. He gently kisses the nape of my neck. “It was nice meeting you, Lia,” he whispers sensually. I finally come to my senses and whirl around, but the man is already gone. I am left standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, utterly terrified, chills running up and down my spine.

    Oh my god.

    I stumble through the crowd, frantically trying to push my way to the back of the club. My fingers fumble for my cell phone.

    “Hey, where are you?” Sora asks on the phone.

    “S-Sora,” I gasp. “We need to leave. Now.”

    “Did you see who it was?” Zelo asks. We are in Himchan’s car, driving back to the dorms. Sora’s hands are laced through mine as she fixes a concerned stare on me.

    “No,” I respond tonelessly. “It was totally dark in there, and I was dancing with my back towards him.”

“Then how did he know who you were?” Himchan murmurs.

I stare straight ahead, my body numb. My mind is reeling from the events that transpired on the dance floor. Who was that? How did he know? How did he find me? I look down at the object in my hand- the one that the man slipped into my top. It is a rectangular gold business card with nothing but a phone number printed on it in a bold black font.

“That’s weird as ,” Zelo mutters. “Who the hell could that be?”

I do not say a single word the rest of the night. Sora shoots me worried looks every few seconds, but I am too dazed from my encounter with the man in LUXE to acknowledge her concern. As I am lying in bed, I wonder what is more wrong: the fact that I was dancing with him like that, oblivious while he knew my true identity, the fact that I was too scared to take him down after he whispered that in my ear...

Or the fact that I was incredibly by him.

The nightmares return once more tonight. Sora wakes me up as I writhe around in my sheets, my palms clammy and the back of my neck dripping with sweat.

    “You need to tell me what’s going on,” she murmurs. “Please, Hyo. Otherwise it’ll get worse.”

    “No,” I breathe. “I’ll be fine. This’ll pass. Don’t worry about it.”

    It doesn’t. I wake up only an hour later. Sora sleeps through my crying this time.

    . There’s no point in trying to sleep while I’m like this. I get up, step out of our room, dial a number. The phone rings thrice until he finally picks up.

    “Lia?” Zelo says in a groggy voice.

    “Can we talk?” I whisper.

    He is quiet.

    And then he says, “I’ll pick you up in 5.”

He takes me to the Caramel Cafe- our one-time favorite hangout, where we would both order banana splits after chugging down chocolate milkshakes (and spending a few minutes clutching our heads due to our inevitable brain freezes). I have not been here since I joined CRP. As it is 2 in the morning, the place is deserted, save for a single tall, willowy girl leaning up against the counter.

“Hey, there,” Zelo says, ruffling her hair.

“Hey, Z,” she responds tiredly. “What’re you doing here so early?” Her eyes slide over to me. “Who’s she?”

My jaw drops.

“Jandi?” I gasp.

She frowns. “Uh, who are you?”

“Oh my god.” I crush her in a hug, ignoring her protests. “It’s Lia! Oh my god, the last time I saw you, you were in grade school! Look at you! You’re so beautiful!”

    “Lia?” Jandi claps her hands to . “No freaking way. Where have you been?”

    “Around.” I peer down at her face, a warm, happy feeling diffusing through my chest. Jandi is the daughter of the couple who owns the Caramel Cafe. Since Zelo and I were over here so often, we saw Jandi all the time. I remember teaching her long division. Now she’s taller than I am.

“You’re so awful,” Jandi says, pouting. “You just left without saying goodbye. Do you know how much Zelo missed you?”

“Okay,” Zelo says. “Jandi, can we have a banana split and chocolate milkshakes?”

I wince. “Actually, I’ll just have a glass of water.”

Zelo and Jandi both give me a look that makes me feel even worse. “Sorry,” I quickly add. “What happened today kind of made me lose my appetite.”

Actually, I don’t really like chocolate milkshakes anymore, and I haven’t eaten ice cream in a while. But it’s easier to just say that I’m affected by the events at LUXE than to explain the fact that I’ve changed after 3 years.

“Oh, I see.” A sympathetic look appears on Zelo’s face. “Jandi, we’ll be in the corner, okay?”

“Gotcha.” She grins. “Keep it PG, you two.”

“Oh, stop,” I snort, rolling my eyes, following Zelo to a table in the back. Nervous little butterflies flit around my stomach. This is the first time in 3 years that Zelo and I will be having a talk.

Here’s to hoping one of us doesn’t throw something at the other.