double update :')) turn back if you haven't read the first chapter!

“What do you want?” I snap, picking up Chanyeol’s call.

Chanyeol titters, “wow, okay, is this the wrong time?”

I sigh, my expression softening to a degree. “Sorry. Rough day at work.”

“Already?” He pauses as if to check the time. “It’s like eleven.”

I’m so glad he reminded me that I have six more hours of this hell. “Yes. Already. What do you want from me?”

“Geez, little sis, is it so weird for me to check up on you?” He questions.

I bob my head as if he was here to see me. “Yes. You’re a corporate lawyer. You work until the sun goes up.”

“Yun,” he warns.

“Yeol,” I echo in return.

Chanyeol remains silent for a beat. “I’m just worried about you.”

“You act as if I’m still a toddler. Newsflash. We’re the same age.”

“I’m older.”

“By five minutes.”

“Potato-potata. Does it matter?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re such a—“ Chanyeol cuts himself off. I hate that he babies me. It hasn’t always been that way, but ever since that day, he won’t let it fly by anymore.

It irritates me, so I press, “a what? Say it.”

He doesn’t because he knows that I’m egging him on purposefully. He never lets me win. Instead, he opts for, “are you taking your medication?”

“Yes,” I murmur.

“Sleeping regularly? You’re not staying up, right?”

I don’t answer, so he groans.

“Yun…”

“I’m fine. It’s been stressful with the merging. The medication’s helping.”

“You remember our rule? No more than 36 hours.”

I check the clock. It’s only been a day. “Yeah, got it. No more than 36 hours.”

“No driving. Definitely no drinking either.”

I let out a loud exhausting breath to signify that I do not want to have this conversation a second longer. “Anything else, father?” I swear. Chanyeol has taken it on himself to become my second father when we already have a pretty good one.

“Make sure you eat and call Dad back. He’s worried too, and lessen his guilt a little bit. You know he wants to be around.”

I feel dread congest my veins as soon as he brings up Dad. I love our dad to death. Don’t get me wrong. Despite his Hollywood success, he remains to be the same down-to-earth guy. Everyone flocks to him. He has the same charisma that Baekhyun has—maybe more. I’m biased. Whatever.

Since that particular day, Dad continues to blame himself, and because of that, I can’t bring myself to go out of my way to keep up with him on a regular basis. I’m not a total ice queen as everyone makes me out to be. I still see him on the holidays, but nowadays, I’ve been making excuses, and I can’t stop.

I just get this overwhelming sense that the more I put myself around the people I love, the more opportunities there are to screw up their lives.

“And Yun?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t be a stranger. We love you.”

I pick at the calluses on my finger, still not feeling better about anything. I feel terrible, but nothing motivates me to stop. It’s always better when I isolate myself.

“I see that you’ve adapted LL’s work ethic, and I can tell you that it’s not going to be an easy road.”

Speaking of the devil, Byun Baekhyun has decided to unnecessarily in my moment. I murmur a quick goodbye to Chanyeol before I turn to meet his eyes.

“Hm,” I grunt unenthusiastically.

Baekhyun snorts before he declares, “you’re avoiding me.”

I level him a cold look. “Why would I waste my energy doing that?”

“Right? When do you ever waste your energy on me?” His question is obviously rhetorical—yet, it still surprises me. There’s something like bitterness in his tone. I’ve never seen him give me anything more than bored amusement like he was simply just entertaining my presence.

He always makes me feel like I’m nothing, so why do I suddenly feel so powerful?

When Baekhyun’s gaze returns to mine, I swear he does a double-take. He’s never seen me direct anything less than a glare or menacing smile at him.

I’m sure this casual amusement is a new development between us. Jesus. I must be losing my mind from lack of sleep.

My smile slips away just as quickly as I answer him, “the position’s mine.”

Baekhyun’s shock disappears as well, and he retaliates, “for you to claim that position, you’d have to be at least competent.”

I grind my jaw. There it is. The Baekhyun that I know. “Nice job, Byun. Simply insinuating that I’m incompetent doesn’t make you better than me. It just makes you look condescending.”

“Oh? Sorry? If we’re talking condescending—how about you get off your high horse and stop using a ing middle man to talk to me?”

“I—“

He knows he’s winning because the smugness in his eyes rises to a nauseating level. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself first, cerise. Maybe we can talk about your competence after you grow some balls and work with me.”

I don’t give him the reaction he wants as usual. He’s never seen me angry. He’s never seen me yell at him. Not even at prom when he kissed Dmitri.

I simply walked up to his date and asked if she wanted to dance. We gave them all quite a ing show that night. The fury in his eyes was delicious, and when I kissed her—I relished in that unadulterated rage. It was my ing nectar.

So, I choose the same route. I walk up to him, giving him a withering look that equates him to nothing. “Six years. I didn’t have a single thought about you.” A lie. “That’s how little you mean to me. Sure, I’ll work with you, but if you think you have something over me—think again. Settle down, Byun. Your obsession’s showing.”

His eyes flash with something of amusement, and he's grinning so widely that he resembles a madman. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s ing broken.

His nose brushes mine for a split second. It startles me. How close he was able to get to me. I shove him off of me and walk away.

It’s so easy to say that he doesn’t affect me, but it’s another story when I look down. Because past my cold exterior—surely, my hands are trembling.

###

“You wanna slow down, cowboy?” Irene throws me a questioning look.

I ignore her, forcing down another shot of straight vodka.

Irene tsks. “Don’t make me call your brother.”

I drop my shot glass sharply on the bar. “You wouldn’t.”

She nods. “Try me. I will.”

I scorn the thought of Chanyeol taking the next plane just to accompany me home. On top of that, he’ll find a way to lecture me for twenty minutes about the danger of alcohol poisoning. What a drag. I can’t even get blackout drunk with my own permission. “Fine. Just don’t call him. I don’t pay you to invade my privacy.”

“I’m your friend, Yun. But right now, I’m also your ing therapist. Stop missing our appointments, then maybe I’ll lay off.”

I met Irene during graduate school. She dated my ex, and we met after they ended on amicable terms. Since then, she’s been a rock in my life. Maybe it was her psychology degree, but she could sniff out my problems like a hound, and since then, she’s never let me go.

As nosy as she was, it was kind of her job. I didn’t hire her because she was my friend. I did it because she was actually passionate about her job. She was a fixer, and she told me that our journey would be long and hard but she’d be there every step of the way.

Except now I wanna get blackout drunk, but she won’t even let me do that.

“You shouldn’t be binge drinking with your medication,” she reminds.

I merely shrug. “I sure hope I don’t wake up.”

“You don’t mean that,” she surmises. Then, she takes a sip of her margarita, peering at me from under her lashes. She’s trying to read me like she always does.

I snort. “Would it kill you to let me be dramatic for once?”

“You’ve met your trigger,” Irene observes. Her brows do a serious dip when she reads my blank expression. “The boy you went to prep school with. It’s him, isn’t it?”

I cross my arms. “Where the hell did you learn that?”

Irene doesn’t look so happy even though she’s right. It comes with the job. “Chanyeol told me.”

“Why would he—“ I pause, suddenly feeling very betrayed. “You’re still sleeping with Chanyeol?”

She ignores this. “It just came up.”

I throw my hands up. “When was this?”

It’s her turn to be sheepish because she squirms. Yeah, I bet she loves the taste of her own medicine. “I might’ve seen him last month.”

“Really?”

“And the last…”

“Joohyun!”

She jumps at the use of her Korean name. “Sheesh, no need to get be so angry. You have bigger problems on your hand. I didn’t want to be selfish.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t make this about me. You’re kind of my best friend. Hello? It’s not just you. I don’t wanna see Yeol get hurt. You and Chanyeol want very different things. You don’t like monogamy. He wants marriage and children. Can you follow your own advice for once?”

I didn’t care about the with no strings attached. I usually don’t involve myself in Chanyeol’s love life, but I knew him. He didn’t do the noncommittal stuff. He’s always had serious relationships until he met Irene, which was around the same time I introduced them at a New Year party.

I kid you not. I walked in on them lip-locking as the clock struck midnight, and it hadn’t even been a solid day.

“I don’t need someone seven years my junior nagging me,” she murmurs.

“Well, you’re a moron,” I deadpan.

She winces, but not before saying, “enough about me. I get it. We’re moving onto your trigger. Is there a reason why you’re around him again?”

“He’s not my trigger. You’re giving him too much power,” I argue.

Irene shakes her head. “No. You’re giving him power. He worsened your OCD, remember?”

“Why do words have so much ing meaning behind them?”

“You tell me, babes. You’re the one who works with them.”

“I don’t like referring to him as my trigger.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes the truth isn’t pretty. You need to accept it.”

I glare at her, but she doesn’t relent. That’s the thing about Irene. No matter how much I try to shut her out, she always weasels her way back in. The only reason why she’s still my friend, my only friend, is because I’m too exhausted to fight her.

“I hate him,” I whisper exhaustedly

“I know you do, but you have to let it go. You don’t want your compulsions to ruin what you’ve built.”

I fixate on the shot glass in front of me. “Well, he’s my coworker. I’m stuck with him whether or not the choice is mine.”

Irene orders me another shot, pushing it toward me. “You have my permission to drink as much as you want. Then, we’ll figure other ways to channel your compulsions, okay? I don’t care if it’s midnight or three in the morning— call me if you need anything.”

I throw that shot back as if it was my last day on earth. The taste of vodka saddens me. It tasted just like that night when we kissed. Bitter, and in fact, it burned like hell.