I think this is the end.

There is no question about it now, her regard for me. It is a regret I’ll have to face alone, without anyone to console me against the bluntness of her refusal to acknowledge this…whatever this is…between us.

I’d say I’m taking it well. At least, with many things happening at the same time, her rejection isn’t something I should be lamenting over, not when there are bigger things to worry about.

It’s just a little disheartening, of course. I had hoped for a sliver of a chance to seep through the cracks of what I felt to be indifference.

In the end, it turns out to be nothing more than a daydream on my end, never to be reciprocated.

It is the end.

Immersed in the bath tub, Sun Young leaned back against the side, feeling the warmth of the soapy water ease her tired self as she shut her eyes.

Frangipani flowers floated on the water, giving a floral scent to the large cubicle as she inhaled softly.

In a folk tale, Frangipani scents denote the presence of tortured vampires, formerly pregnant women who were murdered.

In floriography – or the language of flowers – frangipani can symbolize many things depending on the country, from immortality to bad omens, to loyalty and even to denote the relationship status of the wearer.

My favorite symbolic meaning, out of everything else, is the strength and ability to withstand challenges.

Flowers, although delicate things, can represent the strongest things in life, and what better way to show strength than hide it behind soft waxy petals, a captivating scent, and its happy colors of white and yellow?

Being in the farthest cubicle, all she wanted was to relax for the next half an hour before preparing for dinner. As of now, most of the girls were doing their makeup, and all the stylists were probably busy with them.

Sun Young preferred to be able to be surrounded by silence while her stylists attended to her; it made her feel less stifled and more comfortable, and she would be able to hold a conversation with her stylist. Being surrounded by loud conversations and fussy girls were not her kind of thing, despite being friends with the rest.

She let out a soft exhale as she dipped her hair into the water, combing her fingers through the strands and reaching for the shampoo.

Sooyeon always stressed on getting the best toiletries. Self-care is one of her most important values, and she once told me how she had once gone to a camp where they weren’t able to bathe properly.

It was the worst time of her life, and she was close to a nervous breakdown when she returned home.

Soojung, on the other hand, could care less.

Sun Young smiled to herself as she rubbed the shampoo into her hair, massaging her scalp as she thought about the two sisters at the flower shop.

I miss working already. I wonder when I’ll be able to see them again.

Soojung must be half-dead with boredom by now; we’d usually go around Myeongdeong and go window shopping while we get lunch.

I wonder if she goes to see Jongin. She better not mess around with him.

Her eyes opened, unease creeping inside of her as she was reminded of her friend’s dalliance with Yixing. The man was as suspicious as they came, hiding a secret so large behind that false innocent façade of loving fiancé. And the saddest thing was that Yoora was unaware of it, constantly busy with her commitments to her job, unable to know what was happening as she moved around Japan.

She didn’t deserve someone like that; she deserved someone who truly cared for her and would stay true to her despite the distance, not a douchebag who was pining over someone way younger than he was on the grounds that he was in love with both women.

Who does he think he is? A kid wanting two pieces of candy?

The only thing stopping me from lunging at him that day during the dance was my dignity, and respect for Yoora.

Life wasn’t supposed to work that way, but then again, if life was all goodness and rainbows, she wouldn’t have been abandoned by her father and her mother wouldn’t have had to weather most of her life as a single mother.

Life was a big lie kept secret by all who despised the truth and all it stood for.

And love…

Love was the very manifestation of that lie, with its seemingly beautiful promises that couldn’t be kept, honey-voiced men with eyes of deceit, and dreamy fantasies that shattered when innocent souls realized that the person they fell in love was, indeed, someone very different.

She would never fall into that trap. Sooyeon once said it was because she was rational enough to steer clear of her mother’s mistake, but Sun Young felt something else.

She had that underlying aversion to it, despite feeling attraction every now and then; there never was a desire to further whatever relationship she might have thought of initiating.

Like earlier today when she had asked Chanyeol if there was more to them than whatever had happened last night.

It wasn’t because she wanted to have more, per se, but it was because she was afraid he would imply that there was more to them than they had initially thought.

She couldn’t have that.

She couldn’t succumb to any spontaneous emotion she might have had; she had too much distrust in the possibility of romance to ever think that there was more to them than that kiss.

There simply can’t be anything more than that.

She sighed, sinking lower into the warm water, until her chin was submerged.

The day I fall in love is the day I choose to give up on my self-respect.

Meaning never.

After the highly relaxing bath, Sun Young covered herself in a bathrobe as she searched for something to wear. The dressing room was empty, save some stylists who nodded to her when she entered, engrossed in their clothing adjustments.

She walked toward the the rack of sponsored clothes that some of the stylists had brought in.

PD Kim must have pulled some strings to get sponsors for the show, she thought to herself, looking through the evening dresses, everything looks gorgeous, but too sparkly for my taste.

“Unnie!” Sulli cried, entering the dressing room, her hair pulled back in a bun. She was wearing a similar dress to the ones on the rack, a sparkly navy blue off-shoulder cocktail dress that contrasted heavily against her milky white skin. It showed off her long legs, where she was wearing strappy platform heels.

Amber walked in after her, in her signature bomber jacket and ripped black jeans. “She finally emerges!” she announced, coming over to sit on one of the stools, “Did you get wrinkled fingers from sitting in the bath tub too long?”

Sun Young laughed. “Obviously not. I was only there for about twenty minutes.”

“You seem disappointed about it.”

“Of course I am, it was so fun, I was about to sleep.”

Sulli giggled. “That’s what Victoria was saying too,” she commented, “Have you found anything to wear yet?”

Sun Young pouted. “Everything looks…not me,” she said honestly.

“Isn’t that supposed to be the purpose of dressing up?” Amber asked, pointing to the other side of the room, “There’s another rack of clothes there, if you’re unable to find anything here.”

Sun Young’s eyebrows rose. “There is? I didn’t notice,” she said, as Sulli went to bring the rack over, “Oh, it’s different from this one.”

Sulli nodded. “I think it’s from another brand,” she said, looking at one of the dresses, “It’s called Envou- Envoy- Enve-something, I can’t read it.”

“Envoûtement,” Amber corrected, glancing at Sun Young, “I googled it up. It means bewitchment…like, you know, when you like someone and you want to, I don’t know, bewitch them?”

Did she just go there?

Sun Young’s eyes widened and she shook her head slightly as Sulli looked through the dresses, oblivious to the implied meaning of her words.

She must have a death wish, she thought, narrowing her eyes at her warningly.

Amber smirked and shrugged to herself. “Don’t you agree, Sulli?” she asked, ignoring her friend’s desperate shaking of her head, “If you liked a guy, surely you’d want to impress them with your beauty?”

Oh, no she didn’t go there.

Sulli’s head popped up, grinning widely. “Of course!” she said excitedly, taking out a long green gown with a layer of tulle at the skirt, “Do you want something dark? You always wear light pastels and floral prints.”

Amber clapped. “Look, there’s even a thigh slit,” she pointed out, and Sun Young pretended to laugh.

“I’ll never pull that off, girls,” she said dismissively, taking the dress and hanging it back while they protested, “If I can’t find anything that speaks to me, maybe I’ll just get one of the dresses from my trunk, the ones I haven’t worn yet.”

“Save those for breakfast and lunch, girl, you’re going to run out of things to wear.”

“Says the girl who reuses her jacket and boots almost every day.”

“A jacket is an accessory to the clothes, not the actual piece,” Amber retorted, opening her jacket to reveal a sequinned black shirt with the words Rebel on it. “They got this especially for me, and my ripped jeans have flecks of amber glitter, since they knew I liked this style.”

“I didn’t know those weren’t yours,” Sun Young murmured, looking closer at her friend’s clothes.

“See? Your choice of clothes don’t have to change your identity, they just have to- what’s that word-” she said, frowning before the word came to her, “Accentuate your curves. You never know who might be blown away.”

Sun Young gritted her teeth.

She’s gonna get it.

Amber, you are so dead.

SO DEAD!

“Oh my god, look at this,” Sulli said, taking out a blood-colored knee-length dress with a black lace overlay and a wide satin ribbon sash, “This looks like something out of a Dracula movie meets 1950s pin up dresses.”

Sun Young looked away from Amber and at the dress. “Let me see,” she said, as Sulli brought it out.

There was something very mature about the dress, with its red-black color combination, fitted bodice, balanced out by the fullness of the skirt and the ribbon sash.

Sulli took out a black shawl, sparsely sprinkled with red rhinestones. “You can put this around you and pin it if you feel cold,” she added, as Sun Young took the dress from her.

“Doesn’t it look too,” she began, glancing at the stylists at the other end of the dressing room and lowering her voice to a whisper, “…seductive? I mean, it looks like actual lingerie, it’s like I’m dressing up for-”

For what, exactly?

She felt a blush creeping onto her face.

Amber tsked, interrupting her. “It looks like something you dance to swing music with,” she said, pointing to the skirt, “It’s made to dance, for sure.”

Sulli nodded. “Yeah, unnie, what are you worried about?” she said, shrugging, “I think you’d look very mature and dark.”

Amber grinned. “Very y, if you wanna go there.”

Sun Young took the shawl from Sulli and pretended to smack her friend with it. “Stop teasing me!” she said, sounding shrill.

The latter simply laughed. “Go and change, let us see it,” she said, “Dinner’s in fifteen minutes, you don’t want to waste it over a dress crisis.”

Sulli nodded vigorously. “I’ll go and find some shoes and makeup that’ll fit.”

“You guys are saying that as if I’m picking this dress already.”

“You already have. Now go, change!”

Sun Young huffed and scurried to one of the stalls, proceeding to take off her robe.

The dress slipped on with little difficulty, as if it was made for her, and she reached for the zipper, dragging it up her bag as she adjusted it around her body. The Queen-Anne-styled neckline gave the illusion of an hourglass shape to her body, which she liked.

Who likes their fats showing up in random parts of a dress, anyway, right?

She smoothed the skirt, feeling it bounce as she turned to admire herself.

Bewitchment, indeed, she thought, looking at the full-length mirror as she tied up the sash into a bow at the left side of her waist, before proceeding to grin.

I look really nice. I didn’t think it was possible to look this nice, but I have to admit, it’ll look really great with pumps and nice dark lipstick.

Oh, look at me, already trying to look like a vamp at the start of a show.

“Are you done?” Amber called from outside, and she jumped.

“Coming,” she replied, opening the door and allowing her friends to get a good look, “How is it?”

Sulli raised a thumbs up. “Amazing.”

Amber nodded. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” she said, as Sun Young reached for the shawl to place around herself, “This is how you dress to kill.”

“I hope you don’t plan on trying to sit next to me later.”

“Why not?”

“I might accidentally stab you with a fork.”

“You love me.”

“Love makes people do strange things.”

Sulli nodded. “I have to agree with that,” she said, prompting them to glance at her as she held up two pairs of shoes, black pumps and burgundy heels, “Which one shall it be?”

“The black,” Sun Young said.

“Definitely black,” Amber agreed, and they high-fived.

Friends are still friends, even if one tries to expose you.

The two young men were in the dining room, helping some of the staff with the positioning of the tableware. At the other end of the room, Kyungsoo was pushing in a trolley filled with steaming food, a team of waiters at his beck and call.

Tonight’s choice of meat is fish.

Salmon, specifically, grilled crisply and served with sour cream.

Chanyeol was dressed, no longer reeking of the dirt that had clung to him when he had fallen during the trail ride. Baekhyun had insisted he dress up nicely, requesting – in his annoying voice – him to wear something extra fancy.

And extra fancy referred to a dark blue pinstriped suit, with a double-ed blazer and shiny black dress shoes. To top it off, Baekhyun had snitched a curling wand from one of the stylists and curled his hair for him before brushing out the waves.

“More volume!” he had said enthusiastically, “You want her to notice you and be like, omo! Which means extra touchable hair!”

“I don’t want her to touch my hair- CAREFUL WITH THAT YOU’LL BURN MY HAIR OFF!” he had been yelling, while his friend had cackled wildly.

Later on, Baekhyun wanted to persuade him to dust a bit of glitter on his face but he adamantly refused.

Like I want to be a sparkly, stripy, curly mess.

No thanks. I’d rather jump off the Penthouse.

The result – although slightly dressier than he was used to – didn’t sit badly with him. He actually liked that his appearance was emphasized a little bit more; his black suits were starting to seem underdressed now that he wanted to stand out a bit more.

How is she doing this to me? It’s driving me insane, knowing I’m trying to be more noticeable to someone who doesn’t care about my appearance.

I feel like I’m grovelling for attention.

Baekhyun placed a napkin next to a gleaming plate and glanced up. “Should it be at the right or the left?”

“Right,” Chanyeol said, placing a fork and a knife on the napkin his friend had laid out.

“Are you still miffed I forced you to dress up?”

“What- no, I’m not that petty.”

“Or are you still upset Ryeowook exposed you in front of Sun Young?”

Chanyeol glared at him. “Baek, can you try to contain yourself, at least until dinner is over?”

Baekhyun gave a lazy grin, his comma-styled hair falling over one of his eyes. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to hold my tongue,” he said with a mischievous tilt of his head, “Can I sit next to Sun Young?”

Chanyeol gasped. “Absolutely not,” he snapped, hurrying over to take Sun Young’s name card from her position, “You’re purposely trying to piss me off because you weren’t allowed to come, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Baekhyun said, finishing the laying out of the napkins, before walking around the table towards him, stretching out his hand, “Give me her name.”

Chanyeol shook his head. “Never,” he said.

Baekhyun gave chase.

Holy .

He turned and darted around the table, away from his best friend.

The table divided them, with Baekhyun grinning across him, looking like the sly fox he was.

He took a few steps to the right, and Chanyeol shuffled to the left.

Like I’ll let him get me. Or Sun Young’s placard.

The day he sits next to her is the day the world ends.

Baekhyun held out his hand. “Come on, bro, give it,” he said sweetly.

“Like I’d do that.”

“Aww, come on, you don’t want to be found with her name in your hands,” came the reply, “It’s almost seven. Any time now, they’ll come in.”

Before he could retort a suitable insult, Baekhyun suddenly dashed around the table, faster than he could react, and came over to his side before he could run out of reach.

“Gotcha!” his friend yelled, grabbing onto his arm.

Chanyeol held the placard high in the air, as Baekhyun hopped, trying to get it from his hand.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” he yelled, “You’re severly heightist!”

Chanyeol shoved him. “Then don’t piss me off,” he said simply, as the doors opened.

Crap, he thought, as they both jumped off each other.

He shoved the placard into his blazer pocket.

Baekhyun hurried to the door as the girls entered. “Welcome!” he said jovially, as if he hadn’t been running across the dining room, “Come in, come in!”

Chanyeol straightened his slightly wrinkled blazer, offering a cordial smile to everyone as they filed into the room, before subtly placing the placard at its original position.

“Oooh, Director Park!” Sunny trilled, “You look different!”

Here it comes.

The girls paused, looking at him now that their fellow counterpart had noticed him. Kyungri giggled, not shy as she looked at him from top to toe. “Aigoo, Mr. Park, you dressed up for us!” she giggled with her friends, “You look amazing!”

Baekhyun appeared by his side. “Doesn’t he?” he asked them, grinning proudly, “I was his stylist. Don’t I look good too?”

More giggles from the girls.

“You’re so shameless, Mr Byun!” Hyoyeon said, twirling her finger around her hair, “It’s a wonder you’re still single!”

Baekhyun pretended to sob. “I promised myself I’d take care of Chanyeol first, and make sure he finds a girlfriend before I do,” he said with a pout, patting his friend on the back, “Didn’t I, bro?”

Chanyeol ignored him. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the table, “Dinner is about to be served.”

I am going to kill you, Byun Baekhyun.

I might really kill you.

Baekhyun seemed to have read his mind, smiling even wider, before jerking his head in the direction past them.

At the corner of his eyes he spotted Sun Young settling in her seat, laughing at something Sulli was saying next to her.

Or at least, it sounded like Sun Young.

It didn’t look like her, however.

He noticed her dress immediately, the dark red standing out against the flurry of brighter colors donned by the girls around her, the black lace of her gown giving her a darker aura the more he thought about it.

Her hair long hair was pinned in a faux bob, tightly curled waves grazing her jawline with a crown of red roses on her head. Her eyes were smoky, and he could see it from his seat, and her lips were painted a rich, dark plum.

He gaped, wondering what happened to the noisy, fresh-faced girl who had been laughing at the Concierge desk just an hour before.

Baekhyun leaned closer to him. “Stop staring, it’s way too obvious,” he said, as the waiters began to serve them.

Chanyeol looked down, flustered, while a waiter filled up his glass with iced water.

He grabbed it, drinking it down.

“Are you alright, Mr. Park?” Sojin asked him, “You look pale.”

Keumjo nodded. “We heard you fell off a horse,” she said, “Are you hurt?”

Chanyeol blinked. “How’d you know?”

“Victoria and Sun Young told us,” Jaekyung quipped, “It must have been painful.”

Chanyeol exchanged a look with Sun Young, who had heard her name and stopped talking to her friends.

My god, she looks so…

It’s painful to look at her.

Their eyes lingered on each other longer than necessary, before she frowned, taking in his appearance.

Somewhere inside of him, he ecstatic that she was noticing him the way he wanted to.

“-isn’t that right, Chanyeol?” Ju Hyun’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry?” he blurted.

“He’s probably still a little affected,” Baekhyun joked, making the girls laugh as he patted him on the back, “The fall got your mind muddled up, bro?”

Ju Hyun sipped her water. “Penny for your thoughts, Chanyeol?” she asked.

Chanyeol opened his mouth before closing it, not sure how to respond.

“I’m lost,” he eventually said, and they laughed again.

Baekhyun was shaking his head at him. “I think your brain is elsewhere tonight,” he commented, wincing when Chanyeol’s foot kicked him underneath the table.

“I can relate to that too,” Amber said from across the table, and heads swivelled to the girl with the pixie cut. “Some of us went for a game of archery tag earlier – it’s like paintball but with bows and arrows – and my head’s still spinning from the hit Eunji gave me.”

The table roared with laughter, mostly from those who had gone.

“I said I’m sorry!” Eunji said, reaching for Amber’s head and rubbing it gingerly, “I’ll buy you coffee tomorrow as an apology.”

Amber laughed, patting her shoulder. “I was joking,” she reassured, “But since you’re offering, I’ll take up that offer.”

Baekhyun leaned forwards. “You went archery tag? Why didn’t you invite me?” he whined, as a waiter placed a basket of small croissants on the table. He pretended to be angry as he stuffed one into his mouth.

God forgive his lack of manners.

“Weren’t you working?” Jaekyung asked him quiz