[11:59pm]

“Just give me my cut of the money,” you told Taeyong, “and you won’t have to see me again.”

You were a fool, you knew as much. Tagging along people who were a cut above you, thinking that, apart from the fact that they needed you for your talent, they’d care for you beyond that, but it didn’t seem to be the case.

It had been a great six months, you thought. Joining Taeyong when he proposed for you to be his partner in the dance competition that would earn him a step closer to entering the best dance company in the country, was one of the best things that happened to you, and when you won, you thought it ought to change your life. You weren’t so sure about that.

“What?” he asked, his eyes rounding in confusion and vexation. He didn’t understand why you were being difficult after his victory party. “Why are you being like this?” He reached over and wrapped his arms around you, but you stepped away from him, prying his arms off.

There was that dilemma, too. One moment, he’d be all handsy and declaring his adoration for you or your talent anyway, kissing you like you have never been kissed before, but on the next second, he’d be with another woman, that rich brat who always doted on him and acted like his girlfriend although their relationship wasn’t clear, but you thought you didn’t have the right to complain when your bond with him was just the same: nameless.

Shrugging, you eyed him coldly. “Don’t make this harder than