inspirations.  stop it - B.A.P. love game - 2BiC. roman picisan - Dewa 19.
 

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Sejeong is a wonderful person and all - but sometimes she plays The Devil a little bit too much. Or, at least just for her. With all the fake-dating fiasco, Sejeong managed to snatch the #1 spot in her "People who Shouldn't be Blessed When They Sneezed" list, further showing how she's less an angel and more a Lucifer born to terror herds of mindless sheep like her.

But she abhors the thought of Sejeong frowning after getting a big "NO!" from her. So she puts up with her not because she wants to, but because she has to. Rectifying an un-smile isn't her forte and she'd rather do a prevention. Years growing up with Sejeong - and later, Mina - Nayoung has learned to take up the role of the gauntlet, putting their eye-smiles on a pedestal, far from the tongue of fire.

In the end, though, she's still a mortal being. Dealing with oddities like Sejeong's overzealous fan club, Sejeong's teasing, and Sejeong's predilection for her misery proves to be exhausting at best, insanity-inducing at worst. As much as she wants a time-out from the whole thing… spending quality time with Sejeong on Yanghwa Bridge of the 7 PM is some sort of a tradition she can’t shake off. Especially because it’s Sejeong, and it’s hard to reason with the girl knowing she knows her like the back of her hand.

Seohyeung said it’s because she’s so transparent. Nayoung simply thinks that Sejeong’s blessed with the knowledge of everything, including The Lost City of Atlantic and ancient Mayan secrets.

Nayoung sets the brake pedal with her leg, making sure not to kick the body or the exhaust pipe. Slowly. Because her VLB Sprint is falling apart and –

“You really should dump that hunk of scrap metal.”

She looks up, making sure she looks disdained and horribly offended. “Nobody badmouths my Rachmaninoff. Nobody, not even my fake-girlfriend,”

She watches Sejeong leaning back against the bridge’s railing from her peripheral vision as she busies herself hanging the helmet on the hand grip, voicing out an annoyed huff. Sejeong catches it and she hears her longtime best friend laughs, crisp against the night breeze.

Nayoung joins her, folding her arms on top of the railing as she rests her weight on it. Sejeong shuffles closer, probably to share body heat.

“So, about selling that scrap metal—“

“Rachmaninoff.”

“Nobody names their ty motorcycle after a classical musician. Also, that thing makes these loud noises whenever it hits a speed bump,”

“And your point?”

“At least name it Bach instead!”

She feels the way Sejeong’s body rumbles with a laugh. She knows because the latter is leaning her head against her shoulder. Nayoung lets her be. “Rachmaninoff sounds more… grandiose. And expensive.”

Rachmaninoff used to sell very expensive… probably a good decade ago. Still, it’s hard to part with the semi-junk. They already share a deep, existential bond not even a Vespa 946 can win over. Something shallow people can’t see with their eyes.

Nayoung counts the number of red lights reflected against Han River’s rippling surface, Sejeong breaks the silence. “I bet we look like a real couple to the passerby.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, so she hums and counts the green lights.

“Sometimes I miss it – when my brother used to be a taxi driver, sometimes I don’t, because, well, money.” Sejeong turns to her, her smile beyond exhausted but it still reaches her eyes. “But now it’s our thing. Since – what, five years ago? When I started whining about how I miss the time when my brother would take me out here?”

A cardiac jog down the memory lane. Nayoung remembers a Sejeong with bangs that cover her forehead and a hair that hovers just a centimeter above her shoulder. “Sort of,”

“And you took me here for real, with that scrap machine. To think that years later you would still do it for me,” a giggle, “do you know how much you mean to me?”

A pause. Sejeong loves to let her words hang to make her anticipate – and it works. Nayoung turns to face her, their noses a gentle push away from bumping. Hopefully the wind won’t blow too hard today.

“The world…?”

And their noses bump and Nayoung’s heart skips a beat and it’s definitely not the wind. “And more,”
 

---

She already promised herself to take a break from the life trial that is Kim Sejeong… by keeping an arm-length distance, answering to her messages after eons has passed, and spending her free time helping Chanmi out preparing for the next presidential election. While the idea of Chanmi reigning over school horrifies her to no end, it should keep her hands and feet full, so she offered the help without much thought.

Basically, she’s Chanmi’s coffee-grabber and copy-machine shuttle for the next two months.

“Chanmi told you to fetch things again for the fourth time?” Suhyun’s question is harmless and her grin is easy, but Nayoung feels like hi-fiving her face with a chair.

Nayoung shoots her a dirty look as she scuffles to the door. “Yes. And why are you even here. You’re not even in the student council.”

“You enjoy my company…”

“You’re only here to use my phone to play LINE Let’s Get Rich.”

“… and I enjoy your phone’s company.”

She sighs, then grumbles something incoherent as she swings the door semi-harshly, leaving a cackling Suhyun behind. The walk to a nearby vending machine is quiet as she sorts her mind out. It’s 4 PM and Sejeong should be out of the school already. Even though guilt keeps on twisting her guts, she knows Mina will be there as her cute pet companion.

The thing is, she was born luckless. What are the odds of bumping into Sejeong, who’s also getting herself a cheap canned caffeine?

“Nayoung?”

“O, oh. Sejeong.” She manages a stilted reply. “Still hanging around here?”

“I was about to leave, actually. Got a kid to tutor.” Sejeong smiles, answering her while tipping the coin inside.

Nayoung hums and lets the clanking noise of the vending machine fills the gap. It’s Wednesday and Sejeong has a middle-school to tutor until 7. She also has one on Monday and Friday, and Nayoung remembers her schedule religiously and it’s their routine late-night KakaoTalk chat to blame.

Though, lately, the chat hasn’t been so frequent.

Sejeong bends over to get her canned coffee and Nayoung looks elsewhere, staying alert.

The thing with the whole avoiding Sejeong like she’s the next generation Plague is, once she has gotten past Sejeong’s blinding smile (hey, a decade later and she still won’t be able to get used to it!), she noticed the shadow lurking in the corner whenever she and Sejeong so much as standing around each other in one meter radius.

Which screams nothing but trouble.

And today is no different. As much as she wants to pretend that it’s all in her head, the feel of being watched gets the hair on her neck to shudder. Sejeong is either so deep in thought, sleepy enough to brush it off, or misses it for real.

“Nayoung?” Sejeong’s hesitant call of her name is enough for a kick-back. “I’ll be off now.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

Maybe she should buy Suhyun one too and make the girl owe her something. As she rummages her shirt pocket for a stray coin, she hears Sejeong again. “Nayoung?”

“Yes?”

“Is everything A-okay?”

“Yes,” she lies.

"If you need someone to talk to, you know you have me. We can always talk there - like usual. At Yanghwa."

"Of course,"
 

---

It gets worse.

Because she’s pretty sure whoever dropped a pot from the second floor just five centimeters away from her head in P.E is in cahoots with the lurking shadow. It doesn’t even have to take a Seohyeung amount of intelligence and sly-snake-ness to pinpoint the problem: it’s her “Sejeong’s Girlfriend” status. Rather than dating Kim Sejeong, it sure feels like she’s Lord Sejeong the Great’s third concubine instead who also carries three different STDs, worthy of angry citizen’s witch hunt. Since then, Doyeon and Yoojung have been play bodyguards for her and while she understands Yoojung’s compassion, Doyeon is definitely just in it for Yoojung.

“Okay, honesty hour here, guys.”

“Spill,” Yoojung answers while Doyeon leans against the bleak-painted wall, hands folded faux-coolly.

“Do you really have to follow me to the toilet?”

“Dangers lurk! What if they crucify you again? Even Jesus only had it once!”

Doyeon nods apprehensively to Yoojung’s sagely reasoning. “What she said.”

“No, like, have you ever heard of the ‘pissing while chilling and philosophing’ therapy?” Nayoung even makes sure to showcase her desperation with flailing arm gestures, “I need the time for myself. At this rate, I’m going to get so crazy that no amount of Froot Loops could snap me back to sanity, okay?!”

“No, but… what if it’s the Froot Loops – “

“Doyeon!” She quickly clamps shut at Nayoung’s lash. “Bottomline is, I think I’m gonna be okay. I mean, I’m a grown, sturdy woman. Plus, you all need a new hobby. Listen to me, alright? This is for the greater good – my inner peace, your inner peace, World peace, global warming, you know, everything Al Gore has ever made an eighteen-pages rant about!”

Yoojung leans her back side against the dry sink, eyes scrutinizing her. “Maybe you’re right… we should give you some space. I’m sure you can fend them off yourself, but…”

But of course Doyeon has to pipe in. “Hey, remember when you tried to feed a pigeon and a whole army of it came flocking at you and you ended up hospitalized for two weeks because you lost the fight – “

Yoojung makes a theatrical gasp. Nayoung palms her forehead.

“She’s right! Nayoung, you’re Weak with a capital ‘w’ that even a fourth-grader could get have you in a German supplex!”

“It only happened once…”

“Nayoung!”

Nayoung sighs and walks into the cubicle, trying to drown Yoojung’s speech by chanting physics formulas under her breath. She might need the revising, anyways, since they’ll have a test this noon.

When she steps out of the cubicle, Yoojung is still looking at her like she’s a concubine on a death row while Doyeon is busy blushing at Yoojung’s angry-pouty look. Nayoung angrily steps on a small puddle and the water splashes her socks wet. “Here’s the deal:  if nothing happens till the last bell, you guys leave me alone, alright? And by leave, I mean, you all don’t have worry me coming to school the next day bandaged like I’m the next Tutankhamun or something. Got it?”

Yoojung sounds an unsure “aye, captain” and Doyeon parrots her a beat later.

“Okay. Thanks, friends.”
 

---

Nothing happened, so, adhering to the totally relevant deal made in an irrelevant women’s restroom, Yoojung and Doyeon finally got off her case. Emphasize on the finally.

It’s Friday and Sejeong has to leave as soon as the last bell rang for her tutor, so she doesn’t have to worry about bumping into her in unexpected places. She navigates her way to the school gate, passing by the baseball field on the way, mind a blank as she takes in her surroundings. It’s been a while since she had a peaceful day without Yoojung’s badgering, Suhyun’s trolling, Sejeong’s uber-trolling, and Sejeong’s fan club’s witch-hunting, so she takes her time to inhale the scent of youth and even helped an underclassman carrying a heavy box of equipment to her club room. She squeaked a really cute “thank you” and Nayoung’s heart went a little me gustas tu.

But then the universe decides to screw her over. Nayoung voices out a pained shout as a baseball ball hit her in the back of her head.

She recounts the Archimedes formula. These people have never seen a K-Drama or what?! A hit to the back of the head can cause a freaking amnesia! Who’s going to fetch Chanmi’s coffees if it’s not her? She’s doing the society a charity!

About to give whoever shot her a clean shot a piece of her mind, she whips around… only to see gaping and staring passerby instead.

Everyone in the baseball field are baseballing like it’s nobody’s business. No one’s looking guilty, no one is trying to fake looking not-guilty.

Which means the ball wasn’t even from the field.

Which means someone really wants her head on a pike.

Which means she might need Yoojung and Doyeon after all!

“Hey, you alright?” Someone approaches her, specifically, Lee Haein from Class 2-3.

“Um, sort of. It’s okay.”

Haein peers over to the back of her head, checking for injuries, brows taut with worries. “Must’ve hurt like a .”

“Is it swollen?”

Haein checks for her, palm feeling up the back of her head with caution, then mutters a “no”.

“Did you see who did it?”

“I didn’t. Is it the baseballers? I can help you crack an iron fist on them. Those nutheads sometimes need to chill with all the batting and get themselves a girlfriend.”

“Um, no, no need. I think it’s not them. Thanks for the concern, by the way.”

It’s definitely not them. It’s the lurking shadow. The cactus pot dropper. Sejeong’s fan club, AKA Klux Klux Klan of the 21^st Century.

Except ten times worse, because they don’t dress themselves up in eye-catching white robes and cone top hats, thus they don’t exactly warrant an immediate Interpol arrest.

Nayoung goes home with her mind set on planning her strategy out. She’s going to lose in number and also physical capabilities (since she’s sure they’re a whole world stronger than a community of pigeons), so the least she could do is to outwit them.

(Sejeong doesn’t need to know all of this.)
 

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Nayoung thinks she’s beginning to see an end to this, seeing they sent her a challenge letter to “settle this once and for all”. Thankfully, it’s Monday, so Sejeong doesn’t need to see the ensuing bloodbath.

She plucked the letter out of her locker, takes it with her to the student council class room, taking care of the brown envelope by harshly ripping them apart with infused rage and resentment. Suhyun, sitting on her rolling chair, watches her in amusement.

“What?”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, you know. Electricity bills.”

“Lies,” she makes her way to behind Nayoung, perching her chin on the latter’s shoulder, “to the damned, Kim Nayoung. This is the Mountain Head speaking… wait, did you piss off an angry mob or?”

“Worse.  A creepy cult.”

“Ohhh. Sejeong’s rabid fans?”

She nods, feeling her hair against Suhyun’s head. Her eyes go over the letter once again, squinting hard at the boyish and angular and unpleasing to the eyes handwriting:

From Hell!

To the damned, Kim Nayoung.

This is the Mountain Head speaking…

We’ve sent you a letter, a challenge letter to see who’s worthy to receive God Sejeong’s loving attention and gentle caresses. To think that you, a dogged student council member to Heo Chanmi (who’s a Republican, by the way), have been chosen to be God Sejeong’s life companion? We see it as a disgrace to God Sejeong’s nigh-perfect taste in everything (though we’re aware of her bad fashion record back in middle school, but it’s middle school). So we’re willing to go downtown and dirty our hands with your Blood to put an end to God Sejeong’s misery.

Meet us in the empty classroom in the left wing, the one Drama Club usually held their feeble practices at. Time’s after school. Come there alone.

From Hell!

Silence shrouds them for a while, but Nayoung knows Suhyun all too well. Girl can’t shut up for more than five minutes.

“Chanmi is a republican?”

“How should I know?! But the important thing is. They’re going to murder me at this rate. And dump my corpse into the Han River. And me. Can’t you see why we should totally call the Interpol on them?!”

“You can get after you’re dead?”

“Get off of me!”

She brushes Suhyun off and the girl only laughs harder, settling herself onto the rolling chair once again and crosses her leg like she owns the States.

“Then maybe I should ditch the subway and drive Rachmaninoff… that way it’s easier to skedaddle once things get ugly…”

Suhyun pokes her in the pelvis with a stretched leg. “Chill? I mean, the From Hell letter aside…”

“Suhyun, this letter screamed MASSACRE AND INHUMANE TORTURE in bright red Comic Sans!! Can’t you smell the Whitechapel-ness?! This is going to lead to a Francis Tumblety level of gore and I – I couldn’t even beat pigeons in a fight!”

Frustrated and regretting her bad working out record (or lack thereof), Nayoung claws on her cheeks and let them sag along. She should’ve made some muscles at very least, but no, she thought doing covers of morbid indie stuffs could help her out in the long run instead! Her Instagram followers aren’t even half of Juna’s!

She hears the chair wheeling closer and feels Suhyun’s knees bumping into her legs as her bastard friend wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her into an unattractive hug. “Awww, everything is going to be alright, you know. Though really, it’s your fault for being so whipped for Sejeong.”

“I’m not whipped…”

“You let yourself get wiped by an angry masse. If that isn’t whipped, then what is?”

“I just, I don’t like seeing her getting bothered by those nosy upperclassmen.”

“Eh. Ironic how you’re trying to play White Knight when she could get you on your hands and knees without breaking a sweat.”

“Stop.”

“Crouch down.”

Nayoung follows her words, crouching over and lets Suhyun’s hand pats her in the head.

“Now what am I, a lapdog?”

“I’m blessing you luck.”

“Bull. Why did I even crouch down?”

“Also, I have a plan.”

“Do tell,”
 

---

---

When she steps into the classroom, around fifteen pairs of eyes shoot back at her, following every of her sway. She’s led to a chair in the middle of the room, which she politely refuses with a, “No, thank you,” feeling tempted to tack “psycho” onto the end of it. Nayoung feels small, knowing she’s the only one in the room with brains and common sense.

The boy sitting on top of the dusty teacher’s desk – their ringleader, probably – claps her a sarcastic applause. “You made it here, Kim. We appreciate your bravery.”

Classic, villainous sarcastic applause.

He hops off the desk, clouds of dust following his trail as he walks towards her. His lackeys, on the other hand, stay rooted to their spot. “You do know that this isn’t going to be all tea part and rainbow and unicorn, right?”

“Y, yeah, I know.” Nayoung looks around, feeling even more uneasy. “Where’s the wooden cross?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you guys going to Jesus-ify me?”

He barks out a laugh as he now changes his trajectory and begins to walk slow circles around her. I swear to god this guy probably read a How to Villain 101 before coming here. “Crucifying you were proven to be a waste of time.”

“Um, yes, but don’t I get a saying in this?”

“That you’re sorry for snatching God Sejeong?”

“That everything about this is insane??”

He stops right in front of her. Nayoung thinks she might’ve made him snap, but instead, the guy – she vaguely remembers his face, he’s her upperclassman! – snaps his fingers in front of her face instead. Another classic villain move. “Insane as it is, we’ll put an end to all of this soon. Also: your life.”

Before Nayoung could either retort back or chant a prayer for safer return to the afterlife, the door to the classroom slides open loudly, scraping against the rail. Nayoung watches her “gentle tops” friends featuring their guest members and Suhyun merrily going their way inside. Hell, Doyeon and Juna have birthday cone hats on top and Somi has a blowout hanging between her teeth, Dani is popping streamers and Mina has a box of junk foods on her hands.

“Party’s on, babe – wait, whuh?” Juna stops dead once she realizes the tension is anything but that of a slaphappy party.

Chanmi looks around, a little lost. “Uh, what have we stepped into? The Twilight Zone?”

The lackeys start to whisper among themselves. Must be because things are going way too different from their script and scenarios. Ringleader Guy looks baffled at the sudden entrance. “What – who the are you guys,”

So Nayoung answers him. “My allies.”

“Hah. You think you can outnumber us – “

Doyeon quickly interjects. “Hello, we are guests here??”

And the game’s officially on with Ringleader Guy’s loud, throaty, “Get them!” and Nayoung isn’t sure whether she’ll make it out alive or not but –

She thinks of Sejeong, and how pretty Yanghwa Bridge looks at 7 PM (, and how breath-taking when the two are combined), and suddenly, Death doesn't scare her that much anymore.
 

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betadine: what even is this… but LMAO I divided it into two parts cause its gonna be long (I mean there’ll be a bloodbath) and the next part to this shot will have more pairings! Also i love Suhyun LMAO shes nayoung’s side hoe