I don’t have time to dwell upon how miserable I am because the next few days are packed with preparation for the Donor Banquet. The student council and I are working around the clock to prepare for the event. Thankfully, when Joonmyeon allocated jobs for us to do, he gave me all the ones that kept me out of his way. I’ve been sorting out name placards, writing thank-you notes, and double-checking the catering menu- all from the comfort of my own dorm room.

Joonmyeon hasn’t mentioned anything about my drunk call at all. Which is good. I never want to think about that again.

But. You know. It might have been kind of nice for us to talk this all out.

Even though I can’t really talk it out.

Himchan, Zelo, Sora, and I haven’t been making a lot of progress with BTS, either. After our near-death experience with them, we haven’t been able to figure out how exactly to corner them. They refuse to give up any information.

I debated whether or not to call the masked man again. But we’re trying to stay low-key at the moment.

If all else fails, I could just go in with my knives and start hacking until someone talks.

Ha.

“T-minus-2 hours!” Seolhyun shrieks. Her voice nearly causes Yuna to poke me in the eye with the mascara wand. The two of us angrily turn to Seolhyun.

“I’m trying to do her makeup!” Yuna exclaims. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry!” Seolhyun exclaims. “I’m just nervous! Do I look okay? Is my hair okay? Is my makeup too cakey?”

I don’t know why she’s worried- she looks absolutely gorgeous. Seolhyun is wearing a long, baby blue gown with filmy sleeves of chantilly lace and a deep V-neck. Her wavy black hair perfectly frames her heart-shaped face, highlighting her round eyes and plump red lips.

“You look hot as hell, Seol,” Yuna reassures her.

“That’s you! You literally look like a supermodel!”

Yuna rolls her eyes. “Oh, stop.”

She really does, though. Yuna is the only person I know who can work a pair of 6-inch heels like it’s nothing. The deep maroon dress she is wearing sets her fair complexion off to perfection. Even Sora’s made a few remarks to me about how good Yuna looks all the time. “She can come clubbing with me any time,” Sora said. “The two of us together would be unstoppable.”

“What are you wearing, Hyo?” Yuna asks.

I reach over into the plastic bag I brought to Seolhyun’s dorm room and pull out my dress. “This.”

Yuna and Seolhyun stare at my dress for a good minute.

And then Seolhyun dashes to her closet.

“There has got to be something better you can wear,” she mutters.

“What the hell, Hyo?” Yuna barks. “That looks like something you’d wear to the mall!”

“What? It’s cute!” I protest, mildly offended.

“Yeah, but it’s not formal enough for the Donor Banquet! Oh, god, why didn’t I know you’d do something like this? Last year, you showed up in a sweater dress and leggings!”

“Hey! It was really comfortable!”

Seolhyun rushes back to me, holding a frilly chartreuse gown. “How about this?”

“That’s definitely not her size,” Yuna remarks. “That dress will come up to her shins.”

Seolhyun bites her lip and races back to her closet.

“How do you guys have so many dresses?” I ask in wonderment.

“Dude. We each own, like, three dresses. That’s not even that many.”

Jeez. I hate dresses. They’re awful to fight in. Case in point: the masquerade ball, when I had to rip off my gown to fight BTS (I recently put two-and-two together and figured that it was BTS that I fought. And the bastard who I engaged in a deathmatch with was Taehyung. Figures.)

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my dress,” I say petulantly. “I got it on sale.”

Seolhyun furrows her eyebrows. “It’s not a banquet dress, though. This is one of the most formal events of the year.”

I am about to reply when, suddenly, there is a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Seolhyun says. She opens the door.

Sora is standing in the hallway, lugging a bulky gray dry-cleaning bag. When she sees me, she hurries inside.

“Someone left this for you outside our dorm room,” she says. “You two look great, by the way,” she adds, nodding at Yuna and Seolhyun.

“Thanks,” Yuna smiles. I sense a hint of guilt in her voice. Maybe she feels bad about the comment she made about Sora at the student council meeting?

“What is it?” I ask, standing up.

“Please let it be a dress,” Seolhyun mutters as I the bag. “If it is, I’ll- whoa.”

All four of our jaws simultaneously drop.

A beautifully elaborate gown sits in front of us. It is cream colored, with a sheer illusion neckline leading down to a sweetheart neckline. But the most striking aspect of the dress is the gold crystals that cover the entire length of the dress, trailing down from the bodice to the waist with thick tendrils snaking to the hem of the gown. A breath of amazement escapes Sora’s lips as she peers closely at the embroidery.

“These are Swarovski crystals,” she gasps. “This dress must have cost millions.”

“Oh my god,” I breathe, my hands rising to my mouth. “Holy- Sora, who dropped off this dress?”

“I have no idea,” she whispers. “There was a knock at the door, and when I came outside, this was here.”

“There’s more inside!” Seolhyun says, withdrawing a box from inside the bag. Inside sits a diamond jewelery set, clad with earrings, bracelets, rings, and a necklace.

“Who did this?” Yuna questions. “Hyo, do you have a sugar daddy we don’t know about?”

“Holy .” I slowly shake my head. “Holy freaking- what the -,”

Seolhyun reaches in the bag once more and grabs something. “Awh, Hyo, look at this! They left you a flower!”

She is holding a white chrysanthemum in her hand.

I blanch.

That is the same kind of white chrysanthemum I saw pinned to a certain man’s suit jacket at the masquerade ball. The same kind of white chrysanthemum I saw tucked into the pocket of a certain man at the street fights.

I look over at Sora. She is wearing the same terrified expression as I am.

“Hyo? What’s wrong?” Seolhyun asks.

“Get rid of this,” I utter, my voice trembling. “Get rid of this now.”

Yuna looks at me in alarm. “Why? Hyo, what’s going on-,”

My phone rings. I look down at the screen.

Unknown Number.

My heart pounds in my chest as I hurry out of Seolhyun’s dorm room, a nauseous feeling rising up in my stomach as I pick up the call.

“It was you, wasn’t it,” I breathe.

The man lets out a low, velvety laugh. “I thought you would appreciate the present.”

“I don’t, you sick, twisted bastard. What the hell do you want with me? If you try and hurt Joonmyeon, or Seolhyun,” I say, a sick realization dawning upon me, “or Kyungsoo, or Yuna, or Sora’s dad- or anyone else at the banquet- I’ll ing kill you.”

“Relax, Lia. If you follow my instructions, I won’t hurt anyone.”

“What do you want?” I hiss.

“Simple. Kim Joonmyeon’s going to give a speech tonight honoring Kim Sangyoon. I want you to deliver that speech instead.”

“What? But how-,”

“That’s for you to figure out.”

Okay. That’s not too bad. I can deliver a speech.

“Oh, and Lia?”

“What?” I snap.

“Wear the dress.”

And he hangs up.

The gown looks wonderful on me.

I can tell by the stares I am getting from everyone at this banquet. Newspaper reporters request to take pictures of me before I inform them that I'm not a donor at all; I'm a part of the council that's running this event. Wealthy, sophisticated women stop me, ask me where I got the dress.

“It was a gift,” I inform them quietly.

They smile. “Boyfriend?”

“No.”

Their eyebrows shoot up. They are taken aback by the acidic tone of my voice. When they walk away, they are whispering about my attitude.

But I do not care. My priority is to keep them safe.

No one is getting hurt tonight.

Sora is with Zelo and Himchan. All three of them are on standby; they’re sitting in a coffeeshop a few minutes away from the hotel this banquet is being held at. In the event that anything goes wrong, they’ll be here immediately.

My knives are tucked under the lining of my dress. I am monitoring the crowd for any suspicious activity every second.

I know he's here.

“Whoa there,” Kyungsoo whistles, looking me up and down. “I didn’t know we’d be having a runway model here.”

“Where’s Joonmyeon?” I ask anxiously.

Kyungsoo’s smile widens. “He’s at the main table with the alumni board. Damn, when he sees you in this dress, he’s-,”

“Thank you,” I say, and hurry away.

And there he is, sitting at the head of the alumni table with a glass of red wine between his fingers. My stomach tightens when I see him laughing at a joke a man next to him has mad- god, he looks so ing good, with his coiffed brown hair and wry half-smile and neat black suit-

Everyone’s eyes are glued to me as I nervously walk up to him. Joonmyeon notices everyone staring at something next to him; he turns his head, still speaking to the couple sitting beside him-

His face goes blank.

“Joonmyeon,” I whisper. “Can I talk to you?”

Joonmyeon swallows. Hard.

“Of course,” he finally says after a brief silence. “I’ll be right back,” he says to the people at the table.

“Take your time,” a kind-voiced woman smiles. She throws us a knowing look as I lead him outside the ballroom to a quiet, dark crevice.

We face each other in silence for a few moments.

And then Joonmyeon murmurs, “You look beautiful.”

His fingers trail up and down my arm in a hypnotizing motion. A warm, fizzy feeling explodes in my chest and, despite the agitated state I am in, I can't help but blush profusely.

“Thanks," I whisper. "You look really, really good, too.”

We stare at each other for several moments. Longing rises up in me- all I want to do is grab him and kiss him-

Joonmyeon clears his throat. “So. What’s up?”

I take a deep breath. Get your together, Hyo. “Could I make the speech about Sora’s dad?”

Joonmyeon stiffens. “Why?” he asks after a tense pause.

“Because... uh.... well, Sora said it would be really cool if I could talk about her dad. Since we’re friends and all.”

His face is partially eclipsed by the darkness of the room, but I can see how taut his lips are.

“Why should I help you?” he coldly questions. His voice is so sharp that it pierces at me, pricks me until I feel like I am going to cry.

“Please, Joonmyeon,” I whisper.

He looks at me for a few more moments. His eyes linger on mine.

And then he looks away, his jaw tight.

“Fine,” he says quietly. “The speech is near the middle of the program. I’ll go get the paper for you.”

And in that moment, a tear really does fall from my eye. I take a deep, shaky breath.

“Thank you, Joonmyeon.”

A/N: okay so the leftmost dress here is hyo's, seolhyun's dress is the white one (that AOA's seolhyun is wearing lmao), and yuna's dress is the red

also guys i just realized something

in BTS' "Fire" they say "don't try so hard it's alright to lose" but isn't that the exact opposite of what Dope is about lmao

well if theres one thing ive been doing in the past few days its taking a lot of Ls..... jk (partially) im actually in boston rn for a national business tournament but no one i like from my school is here and my annoying teachers are policing me 24/7 literally i want to sneak out and go clubbing lmao and pick up cute boys god i need 2 go 2 college......

also i got an entire king bed suite on the 12th floor of my hotel to myself #lit!!!!