I wake up the next day to the sound of my phone ringing.

“Mmmm?” I groggily mumble into the phone.

“Where the hell is my breakfast?” Taehyung snaps.

I sleepily glance at the time. 6:45 AM.

“It’s, like, 7. On a Saturday.” I protest.

“I don’t give a . I have places to be. Now if you don’t bring me breakfast in the next 10 minutes, I’m throwing a rager tonight.”

. I scramble out of bed and sprint to the bathroom, hastily dialing Andrews.

“Hey Andrews,” I quickly say when he picks up. “Could you pop two slices of toast in the toaster for me? I’ll be down in, like, 2 minutes to make the rest of Taehyung’s breakfast.”

There is a long sigh on the other side of the phone.

“I don’t know why Taehyung keeps doing this,” Andrews says in a weary voice. “Go back to sleep, Mistress Jooyeon. I’ve already prepared breakfast for him.”

“Oh my god, Andrews, thank you so much. But if I don’t take it up to him, he’ll be pissed.”

“Mistress-,”

“Thanks, Andrews! You’re the best!”

Five minutes later, I am at Taehyung’s door, holding a tray of orange juice, eggs sunny-side up, toast, and oatmeal.

“Come in,” he utters when I knock on the door.

I tiredly walk in. Taehyung is wearing sweats and a fitted tshirt, his hair pulled back by a red headband. A hefty duffel bag sits in front of his bed.

He sneers when he sees me. “What are you wearing?” he asks in a condescending voice.

“Huh?” I ask, looking down at myself. I am wearing the same clothes I slept in: a simple black tank and boyshorts, plus my choker (which I made sure to throw on before I left my room). “What, were you expecting a maid costume? I just got up.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung an eyebrow. “Maid costume. That sounds interesting.”

“Trying to bring out my ty side?” I say in a sugary sweet voice.

The smirk on his face drops in a millisecond. He stares me with an inscrutable look in his eyes.

“You... heard?” he asks in a low voice.

“Which part?” I reply. “The part about how I’ve obviously tried sleeping with you, or the part about me being an annoying little brat? Oh, maybe you’re talking about the part when you referred to me as that.”

Taehyung silently watches me as I set his breakfast down on his dresser. “Sorry, Tae,” I say, a humorous expression on my face but hatred in my eyes. “Didn’t mean to listen in on your little gossip fest. Next time I’ll be a good girl and just lock myself in my room until you give me permission to come out.”

I stride to the door. Adrenaline courses through my veins; holy , I haven’t felt this satisfied since I made my first amulet, this felt so good-

And then he catches my wrist.

“If you hate it so much, leave,” Taehyung says quietly. His voice is devoid of any malice; instead, he locks my eyes in an intense stare.

“You think I haven’t tried?” I utter. “My mom won’t let me quit Windsong.”

His grip on my wrist tightens. “Then keep trying.”

My lip curls; I yank my arm away from him.

“Get the away from me,” I growl, and leave before he can get another word in.

I can’t go back to sleep after that. So instead, I spend all morning Skyping Becca, Rob, and Zeke.

“About time,” Becca says, shoving handfuls of granola into . “I thought you’d forgotten about us.”

“I text you guys every day,” I snort.

“Yeah, but the group chat isn’t as poppin’ as usual.”

“School must’ve really picked up for you,” Zeke remarks. “Whenever you text us back, it’s always at least 3 in the morning.”

I groan. “Yeah, dude. Things got really... busy.”

“Oh, . A ton of homework?”

“Uh... more like this extracurricular project I’m working on.”

“Details?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, we have some news for you.” Rob cockily pops his collar. “Guess who just asked Jeanna Robertson to Fall Formal!”

My jaw drops. “You did not. Did she say yes?”

Zeke wearily shakes his head. “What do you think?”

“Hey, at least I made an attempt!” Rob protests. “It’s a lot better than-,”

“Becca, stop eating that granola. Your crunching is too ing loud,” I say.

“Sorry! It’s super good! I discovered this new recipe-,”

“Hey, let me finish!” Rob shouts.

“Sorry, sorry. Keep going.”

“I baked all these cupcakes for her, and your mom let me have some free potpourri-,”

“Not the potpourri,” I groan.

“I think she liked it! Well, not enough, because she threw it away and told me to go myself. But your mom was really nice about it!”

“Can’t believe she encouraged you,” Zeke sighs.

My phone vibrates with a text. I glance over at the screen.

From: Sofia

To: Jooyeon, Jin

I’ll see you two at 2 for our mentee meeting at Chopons!! Bring stuff to study & we can chill & work!

“Oh, me,” I grumble.

“What?” Zeke says.

“I have to go to some ing cafe and meet my mentor.”

Becca wrinkles her nose. “That Sofia chick?”

“Yeah. And my co-mentee will be there, too.”

“. Isn’t he one of Taehyung’s friends?”

My eyebrows furrow. I recall Jin’s words yesterday as he was walking out of the house.

Attacking the weak just really isn’t my style.

“He’s not... that bad,” I say hesitantly.

“Well, have fun,” Becca says. “Call us when you get back.”

“Will do. Love you guys.” I hang up.

As I’m getting ready, my mind wanders to Jin. Does he feel bad for me?

I don’t need his pity, but... it’s just interesting. Someone in Taehyung’s circle actually has some shred of decency.

Or I might be overestimating him.

Sighing, I pick myself up and head to my room to get changed.

Chopons is a beautiful cafe sitting right in front of Lake Rye, which is so vast it could pass as an ocean.

Or at least, that’s how I, a girl from smack dab in the middle of nowhere, Kansas, views any large body of water.

In my defense, Lake Rye is big enough that it has two marinas and offers parasailing classes.

Anyway, I digress. Chopons is gorgeous. One of the few things that’s great about Windsong.

What is not gorgeous, however, is the prices of its foods. It costs $6 for one cup of hot chocolate and $9 for a slice of oreo brownie cheesecake. I stare at the display shelves of desserts longingly, my $5 bill clutched in one hand as I half-heartedly feel for extra cash in my bag.

“Ma’am?” the blonde haired waitress says with a judgemental look.

“Um.” I clear my throat. “One, uh... coffee, please.”

“Would you like cinnamon, whipped cream, or Nutella in that?”

“Is that extra?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

My face falls. “Oh. Um, no thanks, then. Just the coffee.”

“That’ll be $3.50.”

The glum expression on my face intensifies as I turn around and realize that Jin is standing right behind me and witnessed this entire scene. My cheeks flush in embarrassment as I quickly mumble, “I’ll get a table,” and hurry away.

“Why is this $3.50?” I mutter, sipping the coffee. “It’s good, but it’s not worth $3.50...,”

I trail off as Jin arrives at the table, carrying a cup of coffee and- a pang hits my heart- my beloved oreo brownie cheesecake. I try (and fail) to conceal the forlorn look on my face as I pull my Microeconomics textbook out of my bag.

“Ew,” Jin says with a blank, deadpan expression. “This tastes weird.”

My eyebrows shoot up.  He has only scraped a tiny piece off his oreo brownie cheesecake. There’s no way he’s appreciated the full complexity of its arrangement; he hasn’t felt the magnificent fusion of the rich fudge brownie and the sweet creaminess of the cheesecake, complemented by the crunchy texture of the walnuts, which contrasts with the fluffy whipped cream-

“Do you want it?” Jin asks.

My jaw literally drops. I stare at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Slowly, the truth dawns on me.

He knew I wanted the cake, so he bought it for me.

Holy .

“I couldn’t,” I say. “You eat it.”

“No, seriously.” He pushes the plate towards me. “I don’t even like chocolate.”

“Wha- but this is an oreo brownie cheesecake! Dude, even people who don’t like chocolate can appreciate the wonderfulness of this dessert. Look, let me draw it out for you.” I slam my Microeconomics notebook on the table. “, where’s my pen-,”

“Here,” Jin says, eyeing me with an humorous expression.

“Okay, look here, buddy. Let me draw you a cross-diagram of this thing. First, we have the Oreo crust, okay? That gives the whole thing a nice chocolatey-,”

“But that’s the thing. I hate chocolate. Frankly, I don’t see how you can eat this. It’s way too sweet.”

“Oh, god, are you a vanilla person or something? Or wait, don’t tell me you’re-,”

“More of a salty food person.”

I moan, burying my head in my hands. “Oh, no. Of all things...,”

“What? You can’t say you don’t love mozzarella sticks. Or cheesy fries. Or cheesy pepperoni pizza, or cheese dip-,”

“Okay, I’m seeing a recurring theme here,” I archly point out. “Basically, you just like cheese.”

Jin pauses, blinks for a few moments. Then he nods. “That seems about right.”

“Wow. Well, I’ll eat this cheesecake on one condition.”

“What?”

“Split it with me. Then you’ll see how good it is.”

Jin winces. “Hell no. I don’t want to die from a sugar-induced coma.”

“Do it!” I grab a fork and take a huge bite of the cake. “Mmmm,” I grown, my eyes closing in an expression of bliss. “Oh my god, eat it.”

Jin skeptically portions off a tiny piece of cheesecake with his fork. “No, not like that!” I say. I grab his fork and cut an almost totally vertical line, portioning off a piece with cheesecake, brownie, chocolate, walnuts, and oreo. “Now try it. Just put it in your mouth in one go.”

He reluctantly shoves the entire piece into his mouth. After chewing for a few moments, he raises an eyebrow. “Mmph,” he says. “Not bad, I guess.”

“Told you so.” I shove another forkful into my mouth. “Oh my god, no wonder this is $9.”

Jin watches me amusedly as I continue eating the cheesecake. “Wow. Nice to see you passionate about something.”

I narrow my eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Dunno. It’s just... you’re pretty quiet in class. I wasn’t expecting this side of you.”

“Hey, you’re pretty quiet yourself,” I say. “I’d never heard you speak, except for that time... uh, yesterday.”

Both of us look away from each other uncomfortably. After a few moments of chewing, I say, “Thanks. Seriously.”

“Yeah. It’s... nothing.” He sips his coffee. “I’m sorry Taehyung’s targeting you like this.”

“Does he do this to a lot of people? Because from what I’ve seen, the only person who gets a supersized Mcface is me.”

Jin grimaces. “I don’t know. He just... isn’t too happy that you’re living with him.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.”

We are silent for a few more moments. I take a swig of my lukewarm coffee, looking out at the waves rippling on the grassy lakefront.

“Where’s Sofia?” Jin asks. I snort.

“Hopefully she never shows up.”

I must have jinxed it, because the next moment, a familiar high-pitched voice trills, “I’m hereee!”

Sofia flounces over to us, a teabag sticking out of her large ceramic mug. She gives Jin a stunning beam and completely ignores me as she pulls up a chair next to him.

“Sorry I’m so late,” she says. “Cheer practice ran totally late, and then I had to run to the store to pick up some Smooth Infusion Conditioner because I was out.” She glances at the oreo brownie cheesecake, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Ew. Um, carb overload much?”

I peevishly piece off a huge chunk of cheesecake and stuff it in my mouth. “‘S delicious,” I mumble between bites of brownie. The repulsed look on Sofia’s face intensifies. Jin’s lips curl up into a smile.

“Anyway,” Sofia says pointedly. “Let’s, like, talk about your future, I guess.”

I return home in a much better mood than when I left. Sofia mostly rambled on about how she’s going to the Rhode Island School of Design (which is surprising; although Dev told me that Sofia’s here on an art scholarship, she still seems nothing like the artsy type) and how the SATs totally . She mostly left me alone, instead choosing to bombard Jin with questions about whether or not he’s going to the lacrosse game, whether or not he wants to go to an Ivy, whether or not he’s going to Laila’s kickback tomorrow. I spent my time finishing up my Microeconomics homework (and Jin’s oreo brownie cheesecake).

And here’s the kicker: when we were getting up to leave, Jin said, “See you around.”

Wow. Look at that. Modern Mother Teresa. A godlike, enigmatic member of Windsong’s elite inner circle has stretched a hand across the yawning social divide and grasped my fingers. I replied with the equally groundbreaking, “Bye.” before I left Chopons.

Exhaling loudly, I flop down on my bed. Before I continue working on my homework, I’ll just take a little nap...

My eyes slowly blink open. A dark haziness greets me; the dusky shadows that fall right after sunset. Yawning, I slowly rise up, stretching my limbs out.

The soft buzz of voices suddenly catches my attention. I quietly pad to my door.

“...don’t overexert yourself, Master Taehyung. You need to stop,” I hear Andrews say.

“No.” Taehyung’s voice is tired, broken- yet he sounds as unyielding as ever. “You know my responsibilities, Andrews.”

There is a pause, and then Andrews says, “I understand that. But you can’t continue to do this to yourself. Your father-,”

“Would be the first to support what I’m- ahh.” The sound of something thudding to the floor echoes through the air.

“Master,” Andrews says concernedly.

“I’m fine,” Taehyung says testily.

I peek out my room just as the door to Taehyung’s room slams shut.

A few moments later, I get a text.

Taehyung: food

Curiosity is overtaking my annoyance right now. I hurry down to the kitchen, heat up some chicken noodle soup in the fridge, and go back up to Taehyung’s room.

“Enter,” he utters in a voice so quiet I can barely hear it.

I almost drop the tray when I enter the room.

Taehyung is lying faceup on his bed, an absolutely disheveled mess. His shirt has been haphazardly tossed to the floor; I watch his chest rise and fall as his eyes glassily stare up at the ceiling. His entire body is drenched in sweat.

But what makes me stare at him in shock are the shiny red burns mottling his skin. He looks like he has been lashed with an iron-hot whip; it is so gruesome I cannot look away. There are cuts all along his torso, crusted with dried blood.  

Oh my god. There’s no way Taehyung was at lacrosse practice. This is...

I know this is related to magic.

I stride over to him and shakily set the tray of food down on his dresser. He listlessly continues looking ahead.

“Holy hell,” I whisper.

He slowly turns to look at me.

“Water,” he rasps.

I nod my head towards the tray. “Right here.”

“Feed me.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Really.”

Taehyung closes his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Tell me, Taehyung. What have you done for me since I got here?”

He is utterly silent.

“Oh, right! You’ve made my life hell!” My lips curl up into a vindictive smirk. “So consider this my chance to repay you.”

I stand up and turn to leave.

This should feel better. I should be cackling gleefully right now, basking in satisfaction.  

So why do I feel like such a piece of ?

Is it because I know Taehyung’s going to murder me when he gets better?

It must be that. 

I think.

I place my hand on the doorknob, about to leave, before the door opens from the other side. Andrews is on the other side, looking absolutely distraught. There is an enormous tray in his hands, filled with rice, mashed potatoes, shredded meat, and water, as well as a silver pot of some strange purple salve. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees me.

“Mistress Jooyeon,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“He texted me,” I say. “What happened to him?”

“He was caught in a fire, trying to help people escape,” Andrews says in his solemn, even tone.

I resist the urge to snort. Please. Even if I hadn’t heard their conversation about Taehyung overexerting himself (and know about magic), I would have never believed his phony explanation. Taehyung would never do anything that might even tangentially help someone else.

“He’s burning up,” I tell Andrews. “You should take him to the hospital.”

As expected, Andrews quickly says, “No, that’ll be alright. We have ways to treat this here.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Like this ointment.” Andrews sets down the tray and brandishes the silver pot. “It’s quite potent- and expensive. Taehyung’s family invests in many... traditional forms of medicine. This is one of them.”

“I see.” I step out the door. “Well, I’m leav-,”

Holy .

How could I be so stupid?

I whirl around. “Andrews, wait.”

“Yes, Mistress Jooyeon?”

“Let me take care of him.” 

A/N: ok why is the AFF text editor being so weird? like its auto bolding all the stuff i copy/paste from google docs. but whatever.

lel y'all will see what happens in the next chapters........ its very.... weird.... and im kind of surprised ive written it myself... IDK if it will flow properly but welp we'll just have to wait nd see ! if i it up its ok this is just fanfixtion after all LEL. also please lmk how pacing is going/if the story is boring hahahhaha

other things:

1) was emo as yesterday after i found out bts won @ the billboard awards, literally was happy the whole day nd being emotional as

2) unfortunately, that night, when the tragedy at the ariana grande manchester concert occurred, i was absolutely horrified. prayers to those affected. words cannot express how shocked, disgusted, and scared i am. i don't want to go too much into how much this upset me (namely the sheer fact that it was intentionally done at an ariana grande concert, where ISIS knew many young girls would be at). i'll just leave it at saying that i am very, very sad.