Jongin’s brow almost twitched at her lateness. He merely wanted to lug her in and demand why she had taken so long. There were other things he wanted to say to her but his mother was watching and quite closely, too.

Invitingly putting his arm around her shoulders, he wheeled her in. When in the kitchen, he introduced, “Namjoo, this is my mother.”

“Oh,” Namjoo glanced up at Jongin then to his mother. With a quick bow, she greeted the elder. “I brought some fruits. I hope you like fruits.”

“Well, that’s fine, thank you,” his mother smiled. Getting up she started, “I hope you haven’t eaten because we’re just about to have dinner.”

“We…are?” Namjoo asked. As his mother turned to go through the drawers once more Namjoo snapped her head back to glance at him with a frown. Jongin merely crossed his arms and shrugged. He kind of believed she deserved this after betraying him to go see Taehyung. He would still give her a piece of his mind after this was all over and done with.

“Jongin, where are your aprons,” his mother wondered demandingly.

Stepping past her Jongin opened a tall drawer beside the fridge, grabbed two, handed one to his mother and threw other to Namjoo who took it with a scowl.

“You don’t have much in your fridge, so we’ll have to make do with what we have,” the woman seemed to talk to herself neverminding how they were behind her back. “I hope pan fry vegetables are all right.”

“I thought you said not to get mixed up in each other’s business,” Namjoo hissed in a whisper to Jongin. “And I told you never to call me.”

“I would love not to,” Jongin hissed back. “This is strictly as business as we are.”

“Your business,” Namjoo reminded.

“What are you two doing?” Jangmi asked. They turned abruptly to find her watching them.

Breaking out with awkward laugh Jongin grabbed the straps of her apron, “I was just helping Namjoo put her apron on.”

Grinning widely, Namjoo nodded, “What are you cooking tonight?”

“I said pan fry vegetables and some side dishes,” she repeated. “Hurry along and rinse these vegetables. You should always wash food. Cleanliness is very important in the kitchen. I believe your mother has taught you that?”

“Mo…” Namjoo nearly repeated then turned to glance at Jongin with narrowed eyes.

Tightening the knot at her back he pushed her forward when his mother wasn’t looking. Namjoo glared and made a face at him before turning toward his mother with an all so sweet smile. “Just these?” she asked.

“Just those,” his mother peered over Namjoo’s shoulder. “Roll up your sleeves, don’t get them wet. Here,” reaching forward she swiftly rolled Namjoo’s sleeves up her arm. “You washed your hands?”

“I did.”

“Jongin,” his mother called catching his attention, “get your pan out. It’s getting late. Dinner should be on its way already.”

When he neared the counter he found Namjoo looking at him, her eyes laughing.

“Are you the only child, Namjoo?” his mother asked putting together side dishes at the table.

“Yes.”

“Jongin has a brother,” his mother explained, “he’s studying abroad right now. He’ll return by the end of the month. Would you like to come to our family dinner?”

“Family dinner?” Namjoo turned around and glanced Jongin’s way. He quickly gave a shake of his head but stopped when his mother swiveled her eyes his way. He smiled innocently.

“It depends on my schedule,” Namjoo smartly replied. Jongin gave a nod of his head with a smug smile. Namjoo made a good decision for once.

“If your schedule allows, come.” His mother insisted.

“I’ll…come,” Namjoo glanced at him.

Jongin bit his lower lip with a quick furrow of his brows. His mother glanced at him again and once more, he just smiled.

“Yes, come,” he forced himself to say.

“I’ll get Jongin to bring you, so don’t drive yourself,” his mother said.

After Namjoo completed her task his mother handed him the side dishes to plate. There was now a cutting board and knife on the table.

“Do you cook at home, Namjoo?” she asked. Why did she want to know so much? Was this an interview?

“Yes.”

“I can see you’ve got knife skills,” his mother proudly complimented. “Everyone should know how to cook.”

“Does that mean Jongin cooks?” Namjoo glanced up at him with sly eyes. He peered back with narrowed eyes.

“I’ve taught him when he was younger. We had hard times, so he was always looking after himself.”

“Really? I’ve never seen him cook. He eats out a lot though,” Namjoo tattled.

His mother’s turn to look at him and with disapproving eyes. Namjoo that liar. He would get her back.

“It’s bad for your health. You can never trust food that’s not made by your own hands,” his mother lectured.

“I’ll do the rest if you two could set the plates,” his mother took the cutting board off the table. Finally with her back to them Jongin Namjoo.

“You better stop lying to her,” he whispered.

“But it’s fun,” Namjoo grinned at him.

He almost squeezed her arm but then his mother pivoted to look at them. Agilely smiling, he slid an arm around Namjoo pulling her close.

“Are you two going to set the plates or fool around?” she asked.

“Oh…right,” he nodded. Releasing Namjoo he gave her a warning through the eyes then went toward the cabinets.

Within the next couple of minutes the table was finally set to his mother’s satisfaction. Side dishes, plates, spoons and forks, and the main dish all in order. Lim Jangmi beamed at her work, thrilled to spend an evening and dinner with her son.

“I’m so sorry if it’s no good,” his mother apologized to Namjoo. “And while you’re here, you should help Jongin fill up his fridge.”

“Here?” Namjoo repeated flabbergasted. Shaking her head, “Oh, we don’t live together.”

He looked at her with disbelief. What did she just say?

“But you do go in and out,” his mother stated.

Namjoo’s mouth gaped open catching onto what she was saying. To save himself Jongin interrupted, “I can take care of myself.”

“Well, look at you. There’s hardly any food in your fridge,” his mother nagged. “I know you meet your friends and stay out late, but you should still have food at home. If you can’t manage, let someone do it for you.”

“I’m rarely home, mom.” He tried.

She still shook her head disapprovingly. “That’s still no reason.”

Namjoo sat there awkwardly, spoon still in her hand, and wondering whether it was all right to dive into the food as they argued.

Noticing, his mother assured, “Eat up. Is it not to your liking?”

“It’s good, really delicious,” Namjoo smiled, scooped up food and stuffed herself like she always did.

“A girl should eat a lot,” his mother encouraged. “She should always be healthy in case she gets pregnant.”

Namjoo choked. Food went flying from splattering everywhere.

“Oh my,” his mother gasped surprised.

Jongin nearly slapped a palm over his face. Getting up he snatched some napkins off the counter and handed them to Namjoo.

“Mom!” he scolded. “Really.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d be so surprised,” she apologized. Leaning toward Namjoo she worried, “Are you all right?”

“It’s ok.” Namjoo replied reaching for her water.

“I know you’re responsible adults, I’m just making sure,” she explained. “I’m sorry Namjoo. I’ve never quite spoken with any of Jongin’s girlfriends before. If I come off rude, I apologize.”

Namjoo offered an awkward laugh. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Then I’m glad,” his mother gently smiled. “Eat some more.” Jongin watched her place more food onto Namjoo’s plate as if trying to fatten her up. “Can you tell me about your mother? What does she do for a living?”

His fake girlfriend’s lips opened but no words came out. The next second her eyes swept his way placing blame on him for mentioning the woman. For dragging Namjoo this far he probably deserved the dirty eye. He offered no help though.

The corner of Namjoo’s lips lifted. “She works business that requires long distance trips. I don’t see her really often.”

“Oh? What kind of business?” his mother wondered interested.

“Something with trading. It requires a lot of her time,” Namjoo nodded with confidence.

“I see.” His mother sympathized. “How about your father? I heard he’s no longer around.”

Namjoo breathed loudly and continued smiling. Jongin didn’t miss the look in her eyes when she quickly looked at him with irritation for spilling things about her. “He passed away before I was born.”

“I’m so sorry,” the elder apologized. “That must’ve been so hard for your mother. Jongin no longer has a father anymore either.”

“He doesn’t?” Namjoo asked with surprise.

“Mom,” Jongin called hoping she’d stop with the story telling.

“He passed away from heart difficulties when Jongin was just five. That may be why Jongin is closed up. He’s always been alone I’m afraid he’s gotten too used to it. It’s not good for a person’s health if they’re constantly alone,” Jangmi went on quite regretfully. “That’s why I’m glad to hear that you’ve been around.”

“Oh…” Namjoo managed then smiled again, probably to comfort his mother, “of course.”

He stuffed himself quickly hoping they would stop talking. The sooner he got rid of the food the faster his mother would leave. Satisfied, he hoped, now that she’d met the fake girlfriend Jongin was determined to get rid of by the end of his drama series. Luckily, he managed to wolf the food down before Namjoo got her last bite of anything, forcing them to clean up. He worked swiftly to clean the table. Dishes into the sink. Table wiped. Chairs pushed in.

“Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll take care of them,” he persuaded his mom. Snatching the basket of fruits, he walked his mother to the door. “You should get home before it gets too late.”

“But it’s still so early,” the woman whined at the door. She glanced his way soon realizing his mother was looking at Namjoo. Stepping forward she took the fake girlfriend’s hands into her own. “It was so nice meeting you. I’m so sorry if I troubled you tonight.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, too,” Namjoo squeezed her hands in return.

“I do hope we’ll meet again,” she sincerely said. Releasing Namjoo she turned to look up at Jongin. “Stay healthy, Jongin. I’m happy for you. I’ll see you at the end of the month.”

She squeezed his arm and gave him a light hug. With the final farewell said she opened the door and walked out. Making sure the door was locked he turned around.

“I can leave now, right?” Namjoo immediately asked.

“You’re going to wash the dishes like the dutiful girlfriend you are,” Jongin ordered.

Namjoo’s gaze grew grim. That look disappeared in a split second. Her voice was cheery again. “Then I leave after that.”

With a frown, he watched her waltz back into the kitchen. Sink water on she grabbed a sponge and soaped it. Fine, whatever. He’d let her do the dishes. Alone.

Stepping into the kitchen behind her he pulled a glass from out of the cabinet, made way toward the fridge, and poured himself a glass of ice cold water. Glancing over his shoulder he watched Namjoo work diligently, silently. Man, she bugged him.

“You were at Taehyung’s.” he said.

Namjoo glanced at him unkindly. “I didn’t say I was there.”

“Then you were on your way there. His house.” Jongin said then repeated with disbelief, “His house?”

“And?” Namjoo asked. “Hey, I should be the one upset. You ruined my plans by making me come here.”

“As you should,” he argued.

“Should?” Namjoo spat the word. “I had no intention of meeting your mother ever.”

“So you had every intention to meet with Taehyung?” he argued unable to believe her.

“Yes!” Namjoo raised her voice. “He said he’d treat me to dinner, but since I had to think of you I didn’t think going to a restaurant would be a good idea.”

Tossing his head back he scoffed. “At Taehyung’s. You meant his house?!” Looking at her dead on, “Are you out of your freaking mind? Do you know how many people would see you going into his house? That place is security protected! Cameras are everywhere! You’re intentionally looking to give me a bad name!”

Slapping the faucet off Namjoo shifted, hands on hips. “Oh, so this is all about you?”

“Damn right it is.” He retaliated. “Do you even have a brain? You don’t even know him and you’re going to his house? To what? Get drunk and dance around?”

Narrowing her eyes at him she asked, “You’re afraid he’ll do to me what you did?”

Jaw tightening, he gripped his glass of water, “I did nothing to you.”

“Right,” Namjoo crossed her arms, “so I’m supposed to believe you’re every bit of the good guy Taehyung isn’t.”

“No one said that.”

“Oh, I see.” Her sarcasm again. It was getting on his nerves. “Your every excuse is perfect whereas everything I say deserves a jail sentence. Then you should at least thank me for coming at your freaking call. I’ve been doing everything you beckon and this is what I get.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t understand why you’re getting so pissed off. You shouldn’t romanticize everything. Sheesh. I was just going to have freaking dinner. Two people eating together doesn’t mean they’re dating.”

“Go home,” he ordered.

“Glad to!” Namjoo shot back. Swiftly turning she bolted out his door leaving him alone and frustrated.  

₪₪₪₪₪

At midnight Namjoo thrashed around in bed. She was still annoyed by Jongin’s outburst after his mother left. Damn him for being upset with her. Unable to understand his source of anger with her was beyond the hills of annoying. He should have thanked her or suggested to drive her home even though she would hate it, but it would have been a nice gesture.

Sheesh.

Since when had Jongin ever been nice to her?

Lying on her side Namjoo grumbled to herself. Stupid Jongin, stupid Jongin!

She hadn’t wanted anything to do with him but now she had everything to do with him. He’d even forced her to meet his mother. And she had given up an evening with Taehyung. The regret made her so upset. She had been looking forward to dinner. Taehyung had suggested he’d cook for her if she was uncomfortable going out. Plus, he wouldn’t be home alone. His manager was with him.

The more she thought about it the more she wanted to scream.

Stupid Jongin!

Namjoo woke up irritated and headed off to the salon with a dark cloud hanging overhead. Once her makeup had been touched on perfectly she flipped through a magazine. She nearly had a when Jongin filled the pages inside.

From behind her shoulder the stylist commented, “You must be so happy.”

But all Namjoo felt was an insane rage to rip out the pages, shred them to the ground. Still angry she’d been polite with his mother to receive his anger at the end of the night. Damn Jongin couldn’t be more grateful to her.

Huffing and puffing quietly she left the salon after throwing the magazine aside. Kwak Joontae quietly drove her toward the filming site, where she entered to many welcomes and greetings. First filming would take place at a stage inside the broadcasting station. It was where the ballerina would meet the star for the first time.

The stage was a glossy black mopped and waxed days earlier for the shoot. The director, Song Ilhong, Seo Yul, and the entire planning and lighting crew were busily setting up their equipment. Namjoo couldn’t bother greeting everyone in case she got in the way. Standing back awkwardly while her manager went to check in she watched curiously. A moment later someone ran up to her with the script for her to go over. Her head suddenly throbbed. She had already spent much time memorizing her lines that the words on paper appeared incomprehensible to her eyes.

Namjoo nearly jumped back when a cup of coffee almost hit her nose. Glancing to the side she saw Jongin. “Drink it,” he told.

“Why? Did you poison it?” Namjoo asked.

His brows dipped down onto his eyes. “I’m not that kind of .”

Namjoo turned away sassily. “I don’t know if I want it.”

“Fine, don’t,” Jongin sneered then called out, “Chanyeol!”

Namjoo snatched the cup from him, “You said that was mine?” Sniffing the top of the cup she side glanced at him suspiciously, “You really didn’t do anything to it? Like spit in it?”

“I said I didn’t,” he repeated annoyed.

She scowled. “Well who would know you.”

Lifting the cup up carefully Namjoo took a cautious sip and let out a scream from the burn of her tongue as Jongin said, “I’m going to kiss you later, so put on your act and go along with it.”