I’m alone on a terrace that circles a palatial Gangnam penthouse.

I don’t expect any company out here. The other guests will stay inside where the air is warm and the cocktails are cold.

Despite the frigid weather, I’m more comfortable observing the others from a distance. The apartment’s walls are glass, and the owners haven’t bothered to hang curtains or shades. You don’t need to worry about privacy when you live this high up in the clouds.

The graduates of the Woollim Academy convene once a month, and the Dux has a standing invitation to join them. Attendance seems a bit sparse tonight. My guess is the guests are all Jungyeop’s supporters. I know for a fact that the head of the opposition is absent.

When Seungyeon asked me to her, she assured me that my father would not be attending the party. Turns out she’s on a first-name basis with everyone here. I recognize some of the guests, but every one of them knows me.

Apparently they’ve been following my rise. A few seem to have been doing much more than that. Earlier in the evening, the head of some mutual fund pulled me aside and told me he’s rooting for me.

And he made it pretty clear that he knows exactly what it will mean if I win.

I chatted with various alumni for over an hour, and I could feel my hair standing on end the whole time. Then I realized why they gave me the creeps. They look, speak, and chew their hors d’oeuvres just like humans. But they’re nothing like the rest of us.

Not anymore.

They live in a world where their toilets magically clean themselves. Wrinkle-free clothes appear in their closets. Everyone jumps at the chance to do them all favors. Nothing but flattery and praise ever reaches their ears. There aren’t any problems that their checkbooks can’t solve. And it all seems perfectly normal because everyone they know belongs to the same elite club.

What would it be like to exist in a world without suffering? To have no needs, only desires? To be surrounded by so much beauty that you forget how ugly life is for everyone else?

Who wouldn’t want that? Who wouldn’t be willing to fight for it?

Whatever the alumni did to get here—lie, cheat, steal, kill—I’m sure they’d all say it was worth it. And I bet they sleep soundly because they know that their nameless, faceless victims would have done the same thing.

Jungyeop has taught me the secret of the alumni’s success. You have to be willing to pay any price. The gates to this paradise won’t open unless you offer a sacrifice to the gods who dwell here. And they only want the things you cherish the most.

Who I cherish the most.

Your freedom, your honor, or your soul. Whatever those people inside the penthouse gave up, they don’t seem to miss it anymore.

But I’m just through the gates, and I can’t help but look back.

Sunggyu’s out there somewhere. And part of me is still with him.

A burst of canned laugher draws my eyes back toward the party. Seungyeon is entertaining three captains of industry who’ve been celebrating a victory.

Earlier, I overheard one of them discussing “the company’s” plans to move forward with the launch of a product called Excelem now that a certain Democratic congressman has decided to call off the dogs. The “little people,” it appears, no longer have a voice.

Representative Wooshik must have had something scandalous stored on his cell phone. And I may have been the one who told the Woollim alumni where to look.

I suppose they’d have found it anyway.

I see Seungyeon scanning the room for me. The Woollim Academy’s golden duo should never be far apart. The dorms reek of hormones and secret , but we’re the school’s only true couple. The Prince and Princess of Vice. 

In September, Seungyeon may be leaving the academy and heading to Harvard. She wants her prince to join her if Jungyeop lets me graduate.

I haven’t made any promises.

Seungyeon is brilliant and beautiful, but I don’t love her—and I’m not going to try. I’m with her because Jungyeop forced me to surrender. All my good things are gone.

Vengeance is the only thing keeping me alive.

Seungyeon finally spots me on the terrace and excuses herself. From this distance, she resembles a young Kim Taehee.

She’s wearing a low-cut black dress with butterfly sleeves. Her hair is swept up, and a diamond choker circles . The wind catches her dress when she steps outdoors. For a second I think that she might float away, but Seungyeo is a lot more solid than she looks.

“Come back inside before you freeze,” she says.

“Give me another minute,” I tell her. “I haven’t had any fresh air in months.”

She joins me at the edge of the terrace and rests her head on my shoulder while she snuggles against my side for warmth. I don't think I have the strength to push her away.

“I love it up here,” she says.

“Do you remember being down there at the bottom?” I ask. Or have you already become one of them?

“Feeling nostalgic?” Seungyeon teases.

“Not at all,” I say. “But I’m not sure I want to forget.”

“You won’t. We all leave our old lives behind, but we never forget. I’ve been at Woollim for three years now, and I haven’t forgotten a thing. I still remember growing up in an apartment that was half the size of my room at the academy. I remember that my mother was usually high by noon and my father only showed up when he felt like punching her. I wore the same clothes to school every day, and the other kids said that I stank up the class. I ate every bite of my free lunch because I knew dinner would probably be cat food. It was the only thing my mom could afford after she traded her food stamps for liquor. And you know what? Not one single person down there ever bothered to help me. So I decided to help myself.”

When Seungyeon faces me, she’s no longer a girl. She’s a furious beast. “I won’t forget, Flick. Because I want to remember to treat them the way they all treated me.”

“No one helped you?” She must think I’m surprised, but I’m not. Other than Myungsoo, Sunggyu, and my mother, only two people ever tried to help me.

Neither tried very hard. And both failed in the end.

“You know what kind of creatures they are down there.” Seungyeon sneers as though the whole species revolts her.

“They’d be like us if they could, but they’re too stupid and weak. So they just sit on their couches, watching crappy reality shows and stuffing their fat faces. They know that, right down the street, some little girl could be eating cat food for dinner." She looks at me meaningfully.

"Or maybe it’s a boy being beaten to pulp. But the worthless slobs couldn’t care less.”

“Not all of them are like that.”

“Yeah, I know your last lover was a saint,” Seungyeon snaps.

“I was talking about my brother,” I lie. “Besides, you’re not as hard and heartless as you pretend to be. I found out what you did for Key. I heard you kept him from being expelled.”

Seungyeon’s eyes narrow. She’s annoyed that I know. “How did you find out?”

“I just did.”

“Well, he’s beyond all help now. Jungyeop told me it would be a waste of time. And he was right. I stuck my neck out, and Key never even tried.” Seungyeon’s fury quickly cools. “But just so you know, I didn’t do it for him. I did it because I love you.”

Uhm, no. Hell no. I’m not going anywhere near those last three words. “You did it for me?”

“First that kid jumped. And then I beat you in the rankings. I was worried that one more thing might make you lose sight of what’s most important.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” I assure her.

“I’m not talking about your father. I’m talking about this.” She sweeps a hand through the sky. “I’ve been Dux for two years, and you’ll take the title next semester. That means when we graduate, we’ll get the best jobs. We’ll earn more money than anyone else. This world will be ours, Flick. Yours and mine. Just think of what we’ll be able to do with it.”

I don’t want it. I would never have traded Sunggyu for this. But everyone has his price, and Jungyeop’s found mine.

All I want is the proof that my father killed Myung. The headmaster probably thinks he got a hell of a deal.

“I can’t see that far into the future,” I tell Seungyeon. Why even try? There’s nothing there.

“You better start looking,” she says. “Those people inside are all behind you. I’m behind you. There’s no way you’re going to fail.”

• • •

Hoya has been dogging me all day. He must have seen me leaving for the party last night, and he knew who would be on my arm. He just won’t accept that I’ve lost the battle. He doesn’t realize that I surrendered so I’d be able to keep fighting a war. From the moment I failed to win the Dux title, he’s been waging his own whispering campaign against Seungyeon.

‘How much do you really know about her? What does she want from you?’

To be honest, he’s become a real bore. I don’t care what the truth is as long as Seungyeon continues to help me. He should know I’m in no position to pick my allies, and war is never pretty. Who the hell is Hoya to question my tactics? As far as I know, he may just be bitter because he got dumped.

Curfew is a few minutes away, and Hoya is waiting for me on the balcony outside our rooms. I’d head back up to the lounge, but he’s already waving me over.

“If this is about Seungyeon, I’m not interested,” I tell him.

“It’s Key,” he croaks.

“Key?” I’m starting to feel a bit nauseous.

“He’s gone, Flick. They’ve stripped his bed and cleaned out his room.”

“He’s been expelled? But Seungyeon . . .”

“Key wasn’t expelled. He was here on the eighth floor last night. But he didn’t make it to breakfast this morning, so I came up to see if he was okay. His room was already empty. Whatever happened went down after curfew.”

“Was Alex involved?”

If he hurt Key, it’s all my fault. I was supposed to be watching him, and I let down my guard.

Hoya shakes his head. “Unless he broke curfew, he wouldn’t have had time to do anything. Besides, Alex would have ambushed him, and I think Key knew that he was in some kind of trouble. He left a note for you. He slipped it under my door a few minutes before lockdown.”

“Why didn’t he slip it under my door?”

“You weren’t here,” Hoya says pointedly with a look that says 'And you should have been'. “He probably thought someone else might find it first.”

“Well, where’s the note?” I demand.

“Not out here on the balcony where someone could see us,” he says. “Come back to my room. But remember—be careful what you say.”

Hoya’s room is a mirror image of mine. Except for an artwork that’s pinned to the wall. It’s one of those old-fashioned travel posters that lured early jet-setters to exotic lands. In this case, the fabled island of Jeju.

The image shows a Sunshine Airways plane gliding over a pristine blue ocean while two bathing beauties in floppy hats and movie star glasses wave from the beach.

I suddenly know Hoya’s real name.

I know why he’s here.

And I have no idea why he’d have that poster on his wall.

I was still in military school when his picture hit the papers. His was one of those stories that makes the whole world choose sides. And I knew whose side I was on.

Eleven years ago, at the age of six, the kid I know as Hoya boarded a flight out of Busan to Jeju with his family for summer vacation. The airplane crashed into the ocean shortly after takeoff. He was one of ten people who survived. His parents and brothers died.

An investigation determined that the airline was at fault. The company’s new CEO had cut costs by firing 30 percent of the employees. There weren’t enough mechanics left to inspect the planes, and the boss had encouraged the ones who remained to falsify maintenance reports.

The plane that Hoya and his family were on should never have been in the air. Two hundred and six people perished—and no one was ever punished.

Ten years passed, and an anonymous hacker took control of Sunshine Airline’s computer systems. Flights were grounded. Hundreds of thousands of people were stranded all over the globe. The airline’s stock price plunged.

The hacker responsible clearly intended to put the company out of business. I don’t think he expected the chaos to claim lives.

One of the grounded flights was delivering organs for transplant. The patients waiting for them died when their new hearts didn’t arrive on time.

Most people were certain it was a terrorist plot. Then the police located the hacker in a small rundown apartment in Busan.

It was a sixteen-year-old kid in a foster home. He’d done it all with a homemade computer and a dial-up Internet connection.

“You’re the hacker,” I mutter.

“I knew you’d figure it out. That’s why I never invite anyone in,” Hoya says with a grim smile. “That poster was here the day I moved up from the Incubation Suites. They put it there to remind me.”

Just like Key’s teddy bear, I now realize. And the yearbook page with Myungsoo's picture that I keep in my desk drawer.

“You didn’t need to hide your identity from me,” I tell him. “I always thought you were a hero.”

“For a while, I did too,” Hoya says. “And then Seungyeon took me to an alumni party at some swanky apartment. It was the same night she gave me the boot. But before she broke my little heart, she introduced me to the former CEO of Sunshine Airlines. Turns out, he’s a Woollim alum. He called me ‘son’ and told me he had no hard feelings.”

I imagine what it must have been like to stand face-to-face with the man who might as well have murdered your family. And then forgave you.

“What did you do?”

“I turned around and left the party,” Hoya said.

“You left?” I feel my respect for Hoya crumbling. “Why didn’t you take the bastard out to the terrace and push him over the side?”

“Because that’s what they wanted me to do. If I’d killed the guy, they’d have won. I’d have been just like the rest of them. But the thing that really scared me was that I was already halfway there.”

I’m trying to make sense of the statement when Hoya hands me the note Key left. “It’s getting close to curfew. We can swap stories some other day.”

The paper has been folded three times. My name is scrawled on the outside. A few seconds ago, my mind was bursting with questions I couldn’t wait to ask Hoya. Now I can’t remember a single one of them.

“Did you read—” I start to ask.

“No.” Hoya taps an ear with one finger to caution me. “It’s for you.”

I unfold the paper. It’s hardly a letter. Just three short sentences.

‘My aunt showed up when I was in rehab. They wouldn’t let me see her. They told her I was dead.’

“What does this mean?” I ask.

Hoya takes the note and reads it. Then he rips the paper into pieces and disappears into the bathroom. By the time I hear the toilet flush, I know the whole horrible truth.

No one ever goes home.

That’s why they told Key’s aunt he was dead. They didn’t want anyone to know they were bringing him here. They had to make sure that no one would ever come looking for Key because they knew there was a very good chance he might not make it out.

The realization makes me falter.

At the Woollim Academy, you either graduate or you die.

When Hoya returns to the room, I take his arm and drag him back out to the balcony.

“They kill the Ghosts!” I whisper.

Hoya just nods. He knew.

“You figured it out? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was just a hunch. I didn’t know for sure,” he says. “But it makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? You can’t expel students from a school like this. They all know way too much. Jungyeop could never take the risk. So he picks kids like Key who can vanish without a trace. Is anyone going to start searching if you disappear?”

I never thought of it that way. “No.”

“Me neither. Most people I’ve met here are orphans. The rest don’t have anyone on the outside who cares if they live or die. So I bet a lot of the students have put two and two together. They’ve figured out that the Ghosts don’t go home. But no one would ever breathe a word about it. Because you never know who’s listening—and if one of Jungyeop’s people hears you say the wrong thing, you might be next to go.”

He’s right. “Then you’re taking a pretty big risk telling me,” I say.

“I’ve got nothing left to lose. They’ll be coming for me soon.”

“That’s not true,” I try to assure him.

“It is, Flick. And the truth could get a whole lot uglier before you get out of here. But you have to keep looking, no matter how bad it gets. The Lee-Kwons expect everyone to turn away. That’s how they’ve been getting away with murder for so many years." His face is unreadable.

“Nobody ever wants to look.”

• • •

I’m in a sleep so deep that I might as well be at the bottom of the ocean. And yet I’m out of my bed the instant I hear movement on the balcony outside my room. The door silently slides open as I approach. Two people pass by so quickly that I barely get a glimpse of them. Just a flash of green stockings and a quick wave of a single red feather. I race after the pair.

“Myung!” I call out. “Where are you going? I’m back here!”

He stops and turns, but he doesn’t release Key’s hand. “I didn’t come for you,” he says. “I’m here on official business tonight. Key can’t get to Never Land on his own.”

“But you said you couldn’t get in here. You said all the windows are sealed!”

“I made that up,” Peter Pan tells me. “So you wouldn’t have to say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you didn’t want me around.” What?

“Why wouldn’t I want you around?! You’re the only reason I’m here.”

“Then why did you try to forget me? Why did you try to forget him?” asks Peter Pan.

“I didn’t, Myung! I just couldn’t afford any distractions. I promised you that it wouldn’t be forever. I told you I’d see you again as soon as this was through.”

“You make a lot of promises,” Myungsoo says, glancing over at Key.

He’s beaming at me. His hair is as limp and mousy as the day I first met him. The beautiful clothes and makeup are gone. He’s wearing a ratty T-shirt and jeans. He’s the boy he was before he made his first mistake. Before his parents died and Jungyeop found him.

I have never envied or pitied anyone more.

“Will you take care of him?” I ask. “Will you help Key forget all of this?”

“He already has,” Peter Pan says. Then his businesslike tone softens. “Would you like to come with us? It’s not too late.”

“Not yet, Myung-ah I have to get what I came for.” He looks at me with a pity-filled glance.

“Revenge?” he asks with bitter laugh. “Don’t worry. You’ll get it. Anything, anything. You can have anything in life if you’ll sacrifice everything else for it. First it was Sunggyu—then Sungjong and Key. Before this is over, you’ll get rid of me too.”

“How can you say that? I’m doing this for you!”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes!”

“This isn’t what I want,” he says. “Goodbye.”

He’s never said that before. The word scares me more than anything else.

“Will you be back? Please say you’ll be back, Myungsoo-yah!”

“Of course I’ll be back,” he says with a nod at Hoya’s door. “I don’t have a choice.”

• • •

My face is wet when I wake. I can hear myself shouting, “Don’t leave me!” Everyone else must have heard it too.

I hold the pillow against my mouth and breathe through my nose until I can trust myself not to sob. There are footsteps outside my room. They’ve come to investigate. They want to find out who’s cracked. 

They linger at my door for a minute or so, then move on to the next.

Their footsteps sound victorious.

TT TT Sunggyu finally went to the military - my BABBBYYY *sorry guys*

 We shall wait for him till he comes back! RIGHT? 

Welp, seeing Sunggyu in this story will take shorter than two years, so brace yourselves guys XD *still gonna take a while doh ._.