Falling in love is messy, too messy.  You, of all people, would know especially after falling for someone you’d known for years only to have everything backfire on you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore.

You fidgeted with the loose sleeve of your gray and beige baseball-cut shirt. Your black shorts were probably a bit too short, but it didn’t matter today.  Today was a relaxing day. No parties, no guests, no company—no, that would all start again tomorrow.

As the daughter of one of Korea’s richest CEOs, you knew the drill. The moment you could talk, you were molded for the sake of the company. Your father wasn’t aware of it, but you were completely okay with this arrangement. You liked schedules and meeting new people.

The only thing you couldn’t take were things you couldn’t control.

“_________-ah! Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Coming, Appa.”

You hurried downstairs towards your appa’s grand study. A husky man with an aging beard and mustached, he sat behind his massive desk waiting for you patiently while sorting through some papers.

“Yes, Appa?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were coming to the company’s annual ball tomorrow night.” He smiled. Your father wasn’t like the usual businessman. He paid just as much attention to you as he did with his clients or even one of his expensive cars. “Will we be expecting you?”

“Of course.” You grinned. You backed out of the room slowly before any loopholes could be tossed around.

“Oh, and _________-ah.”

Ohp, there’s that loophole.

“Yes?”

“Please dress nicely. No repeating your little stunt last year dressing like one of the waitresses—”

“But, Appa, you know my philosophy on these things!”

“Young lady, how do you expect to greet your fiance dressed as a waitress?”

That was the other arrangement you didn’t argue with:  an arranged marriage. Again, falling in love is messy and this was so simple and clean.  And it wasn’t as if you were being sent to jail; it’s just a title

“How am I supposed to know if my husband is a gentleman if he can’t even be nice to me when I’m just a waitress?” Your retorted. “It’s just for the night anyway. I’ll still be getting married to the man regardless.”

Your father grunted in agreement. “If that’s the case, I’ll be sure to change the uniform for tomorrow.”

You bowed out. “Of course.

**

Your relaxing night ended with your father having you approve the new uniforms for the waitresses. They weren’t bad. A simple, black cocktail dress with a slit. It stopped mid-thigh, just exposing enough. Personally, you thought it was a bit much just to serve champagne, but then again, a lot of champagne gone reassures a lot of conversation throughout the night. You approved the dress reluctantly, knowing your father was satisfied.

By the time the ball came around, you had your hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as you examined your ensemble for the night. A slight pang of anxiety hit you as you suddenly realized you had forgotten to ask Appa what your fiance looked like.

All you knew was that he was the son of another CEO in China. Perhaps you’d be able to distinguish him in the room—of course, that’s if he actually decides to show up tonight.

Shaking the thought, you rushed down to the ballroom, grabbing a tray of freshly poured champagne. The place was already packed with rich businessmen and women dressed in their designer jewels and tuxedos. You put on your best face and offered people their drinks.

You liked the fact that no one recognized you. Some were polite; some were not. It came with the territory. You knew if you were being who you really were, they would all be polite. It’s all just a facade.

“Excuse me.” SOmeone tapped on your shoulder.

“Champa—” You trailed off as you met eyes with someone completely new.

You’d never seen such a face before. A strong nose, fierce eyes, and bleached hair perfectly coiffed around his face. His voice wasn’t exactly quiet, but it was soft as he spoke.

You cleared your throat. “Um, champagne, sir?” You raised your tray to him.

He smiled. “I’ll only have a drink if you take on, too, seeing as there are only two left on your tray.” He picked up both glasses with delicate yet muscular fingers and motioned one to you.

You eyed him for a moment. He seemed far too rich to want to win over a waitress—then again, he was very young. He was probably dragged here by his parent just like you.

“Well?” He sipped his drink, leaving yours untouched.

You took the other glass and quickly handed over your tray to another waiter. A few minutes of socializing couldn’t hurt, and Appa would probably want you to get to know people anyway…

The beautiful stranger just continued to grin as he drank, clearly satisfied with your decision. “Are you always this eager to join the company?”

“Not usually.” You sipped. “But tonight I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in closer to you, and you could smell the sweet aroma of the alcohol on his lips. “Well, I guess that means I’m special then, right?”

You opened your mouth even though you had no idea how to respond. Luckily you were saved by the music coming on, signaling everyone to set down their drinks to dance. 

“Shall we?”

It was more of a command then a question. The stranger took your glass and set both of them on a passing waiter’s tray. He tugged you along to the dancefloor to join the other people.

His hand slid down to the crook of your back as you both swayed to the beat. He kept you close, keeping just the right amount of pressure on you. You could just fall into his tuxedo after catching a whiff of his cologne—honeysuckle and musk.

He kept his eyes on you, holding your stare before you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He chuckled.

You shrugged. “I came here to serve drinks, and now I’m dancing with a complete stranger.

“A complete stranger?” He scoffed. “Nonsense!”

“Fine, then what’s your name?” You challenged.

“Kris.” He smirked.

“Last name?”

“You can find that out later.” He winked. “So might I know your name?"

You narrowed your eyes.

“A name for a name.” Kris started. “It’s a fair trade.”

“Maybe.”

“Only maybe?”

You nodded.

“Well, if that’s the case, you need to give me something in return.” Kris hummed in thought.

“Oh?”

He nodded Before you could even blink, Kris pressed his lips to yours gently. You both stopped your dance as you kept your lips together. Your eyelids drooped closed smoothly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The kiss was so different. You wanted to explore him—he was still a stranger regardless of his name, but you wanted him.

You broke away from the kiss, keeping his gaze for a moment, and grabbed his hand, dragging him away from the mass of people and to an empty hallway where you knew no one would be. You didn’t really know what you were looking for in his eyes, but whatever you saw made you trust him.

Kris pressed you up against the wall, attacking your lips. You released a sigh of content as his warm body came in contact with yours. You tangled your anxious fingers in his blond hair, gently tugging every time he moaned into the kiss.

Kris slid his hand against the slit of your dress. You flinched as you felt something cold seer against your skin. While he left moist kisses on your neck, you looked down to see whatever was on his hand that felt so odd.

“What is that?”

A ring—a silver band on Kris’s ring finger caught your attention. You’d seen these things before, but you were afraid to admit what it was.

Kris raised his hand, ceasing his contact with your skin.

“Is that—” You sighed angrily. “Is that an engagement ring?”

“Wait, let me explain!” Kris pleaded.

You interrupted him with a fierce growl. “You’re engaged, and we just—AGH!”

After a second, you realized you were more angry with yourself than you were with Kris. You could have stopped him from kissing you, but mostly—you were engaged, too. Of course, you didn’t know who your fiance was, but you willingly threw it away for some stranger who was betraying his fiance with you.

You stood there in front of Kris, releasing the most abnormal sounding exclamations he’d every heard. “AGH! We just—UGH! How could you—How could I—URGH!”

Kris couldn’t help but laugh at your incomprehensible rant.

“Why are you so happy?!” You shrieked.

Kris just shrugged. “Maybe I think you’re cute. Is that a crime?”

“Yes, it is actually.” You spoke more calmly. “It’s a crime when you’re already committed to someone.”

He looked at you for a moment. You both stood in front of each other, silently trying to understand the current situation. Kris was the first to speak.

“Here.” He held up his hand.” Take it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take my ring.” Kris motioned towards you. “The engagement isn’t official; I’m just wearing it so I won’t lose it. You hold onto it until I’m positive about doing this.” 

Your gaze switched back and forth between Kris’s eyes and the silver band. This was so odd, you thought. You just met him, and yet you believe everything he says. Not to mention, he’s trusting you with something that was clearly expensive. You took one last look at his hand before reaching for it.

Keeping you from getting the ring easily, Kris grabbed your hand and pulled you into his chest. You were stunned, to say the least. His suit was so soft, and he was hugging you so protectively. After what seemed like an hour, Kris backed away and slipped his ring into your hands. He kissed your cheek then bowed to signal his departure. You watched his retreating back until his figure disappeared among the crowd of suits.

“What just happened…” You whispered to yourself. You played with the ring in your hand, slipping it in onto your own finger. It was loose one you, but you still looked at it on your hand. You shook your head and took it off. You unclasped the silver chain around your neck and slipped the ring on it.

“This is your home now, arasso?”

You talked to your new silver companion. Placing the necklace on correctly, you left the party to retreat to your room. You had to process everything, but it would have to wait until the morning.