t e n .

“S-Soojung! I’m your boss’ son,” Jongin whispers feverishly, his warm breath flutters over the bridge of her nose, their lips barely an inch apart. “You can’t do this. You can’t…” he trails off, dark brown eyes set onto hers. The corner of her lip’s strain upwards, parted slightly as she makes to speak. The attempt is cut short by the sharp click of shoes on hardwood, the sound a disturbing inverse to their formerly hushed tones. Flinching away, Krystal shoves Jongin back, her expression fading into one of clear disgust.

Sneering, she spits, “You’re pathetic, you know. What, did you think I’d give you anything in the middle of a kitchen?” Wide-eyed and flustered, Jongin’s gaze flicks from his friend who stands snickering at the door, to the disgruntled Soojung. Had she not, just seconds before, been ready to disregard all of her morals for a fling with him? For a fleeting moment, he wonders if he had imagined it, but that can’t be the case. It was too vivid, the feeling in his chest too uncomfortable. She had played him, of that he’s now sure. His expression soon turns to a sickly glare. “Pig!” Soojung hollers, pushing him against the corner of the kitchen island before storming out, shoving the newly arrived Sehun aside as she goes.

The two boys, now silent, peer at each other in startling silence. Like owls, their eyes flickering, they seem to be silently urging each other to speak. “She came at me,” Jongin asserts forwardly, gaze set to the ground as he storms past Sehun as well. “You can let yourself out, I presume.” he snarls, barely casting him another glance as he jogs up the wide oak staircase. Sehun, who stands in front of a confused Kyungsoo, breaks into an amused smirk as he gathers his belongings, urging the older boy to leave quickly and quietly so as to not peeve Jongin anymore. Kyungsoo, now at the door, notices a precarious lack of Sehun’s presence and pauses to glance back into the living room. Sure enough, there the youngest boy lingers—fiddling with his jacket quietly before glancing up at Kyungsoo.

“I’ll stay back,” he informs, “just to make sure everything is copasetic.”

A short nod later, and Kyungsoo has disappeared through the front door. The only reminder of his presence is a streak of mud across the marble flooring of the foyer. Silence falls over the house like a satin blanket, only a faint mumble of noise coming from the kitchen and from footsteps in the upstairs study. Raising his eyebrows slightly, Sehun glances at the empty staircase before sliding down the hall in silence. He’d asked Kyungsoo if he felt like visiting Jongin after the two received a rather desperate text from him, detailing the fact that his father had returned. Hence, they had arrived at the house to find Soojung and Jongin in a rather precarious situation.

Naturally, Sehun has little care for the small details of the event. Soojung couldn’t be sincere, and he knows that as well as Jongin does. Rather, he’s looking for greater detail on her so called “plan,” if she dares to divulge. The lights are dim as Sehun pads down the hallway, each perfectly placed step bringing him closer to the door at the very end of the hall. Finally, with one long stride, he reaches the door and knocks lightly. There is no response, however, and Sehun takes the initiative to open the door and peer inside. Soojung stands there, thin frame illuminated by a single incandescent lamp, her back to the door as she speaks feverishly into the phone. Her tone low, she addresses the person on the other line formally, though she seems to notice Sehun’s appearance, and is quick to end the conversation with that revelation.

“Soojung,” the tall boy greets when she turns to meet his gaze.

Looking the boy up and down, she lets out a plain sigh. “So, what do you think? Was my acting on par?” she asks, folding clothes as she periodically glances up at the boy at her door. Sehun closes the door gently behind him, taking a step forward as he pulls his phone from his pocket, holding the device in the air and waving it slightly.

“I’m surprised, I must say,” he admits, “you planned quite accordingly upon receiving my text.” Soojung shrugs simply in response, still focused on simple tedious chores as she listens to Sehun continue. “But, here’s the thing, Soojung. I can’t work with you if your motive isn’t clear. Tell me honestly: why are you doing this?” Sehun demands, taking a seat in the chair perched in the corner of her room. Soojung stops for a second, looking up to meet Sehun’s intense gaze, before folding a final shirt and placing it in a random drawer.

Her tongue darts out to her lower lip as she sits gingerly on the edge of her bed, smoothing the wrinkled comforter around her. “You know why, Oh Sehun,” she sighs, “I told you.” He sends her an unsatisfied smile and she lets out a small huff, combing her fingers through the ends of her dark hair. “Listen, his family—not just him alone—have ruined mine. Don’t you think there’s hell to pay for that?” she growls, not aggravated with him, but rather with the situation. After all, it’s not like revenge is one of her life goals. She’d much rather live comfortably, but that’s not quite possible until all loose ends are snipped.

Sehun’s eyes narrow. “Haven’t you thought of the collateral damage, Soojung? What if your plan backfires? And if you’re caught?” he urges, a hand placed to his chin as he traces circles on his lower lip with his thumb. It’s all very intriguing, after all; a revenge-obsessed heiress, the destruction of two families, and naturally, his own relation to the subject. Soojung, who has now stood up and begun pacing from the window to the edge of the bed, glances distractedly at Sehun.

“And you, Oh Sehun? Are you telling me you don’t want this just as much, no matter what? Don’t tell me you’ve abandoned your plans already…” she barks, her gaze a mixture of anger and disappointment. A short laugh bubbles from the boy’s throat as he shakes his head sadly.

“I wish, I really do,” he sighs, “to be free of this lust for revenge...there could be no sweeter pleasure.”

The two sit in placid silence for a moment or so. “It’s not about my sister. I mean, it was at first, of course. But, it’s more than that, I realized!” she exclaims, pausing in her place as she gestures enthusiastically. “Think about the corruption, Sehun! The whole family is absolutely rotten to the core, all they need is exposure and they’ll collapse for good. And what do we get? Freedom. Freedom from their economic and social tyranny. How sweet is that?” Soojung breathes, moving closer to Sehun, a wicked smile gracing her face. But, Sehun can only nod. She’s definitely right; there’s only so much control any one family should have over the masses.

And yet…

A click of the door sends the two to their feet. “Listen, you little brat,” begins a loud voice, although it cuts off rather abruptly. Alight in the glow of the lamp, Jongin stands rigid, eyes cast upon the two in rageful horror. “You.” he spits, looking from his best friend to Soojung and back. Consumed by an immediate flush of anger, the boy is unable to form congruent sentences, he can only grumble and growl as he continually clenches and unclenches his fists. Then, in a fit of rage, he grabs a glass bowl from Soojung’s chest of drawers and hurls it at the adjacent wall. “You s!” he howls, paying no heed to the other residents of the house.

Pale, Soojung holds her hands up defensively, mouth gaping as she glances from the gleaming shards of glass to the reddening Jongin. “Jongin—” she begins quietly, a small frown forming as she moves to step forward.

“Don’t say my name, you wench!” Jongin howls. Sehun sighs and shakes his head, moving towards Jongin who spins on his heel to regard his best friend. “And you, well, you really got me—” he laughs darkly, “I thought you were here for me, but shame on me, eh? You’re just as bad as her.”

The door swings open once again, and at the door frame, looking rather annoyed with her face covered in a green substance and a pink robe wrapped around her body, is Mrs. Kim. “Excuse me,” she snaps, “but, can someone please explain why my pamper time has been infringed upon?” The three kids stare at her, tense as they wait for something to be said. Krystal is the first to make any move.

“I apologize for the disturbance, m’am,” she begins, but stops as Mrs. Kim snaps her fingers a few times. The woman’s lips, usually spread into a smile, are closed shut, and looking rather thin as she glares at each of the kids.

“Enough of that. I want to know what is going on. Now.”

A dark laugh erupts from Kai’s throat as he casts a rather sinister glance at Krystal and Sehun, who stare apprehensively back at him. He could be exposing them. They could be sent to jail. Surely he had heard the whole discussion, the whole damned plan. That was the only logical reason for his anger, after all. “These two, mother,” he begins angrily, “they’re dating. Sehun snuck into Krystal’s room when I left. And they’re trying to get me off their trail by having Krystal try to seduce me. Worst of all, when I came in, they were about to…” Sehun looks to Krystal, who glances right back at him. Perhaps Kai is not as keen as they believed him to be. Mrs. Kim glances between Sehun and Krystal before sighing.

“Well,” she tsks, “I believe I did outline that you weren’t allowed to bring a lover into our home. And, you did deceive my son and I…” Mrs. Kim appears to be genuinely disappointed as she folds her arms over her chest, eyes glued to Krystal. “I’ll let my son deal with Sehun, but you, Krystal. I’m afraid we’ll have to let you go. Such a shame, too—you were the first maid I liked in a while, after all.” Mrs. Kim drones, nodding her head sadly as she exits the room. She pauses, however, and backtracks to add, “You’ll have to leave by tomorrow morning.”

That was it.

. . .

Belongings placed neatly into her suitcase, Krystal lets out a small huff before settling down on the edge of the bed. It was a mistake, that she knows. To have discussed such dangerous things within the household was foolish; after all, what if they had been legitimately caught? The repercussions would have been far worse than just losing her job. But, then again, this is the end of her plan. Her whole plan revolved around this job, and without it, she’s back at square one. Except she isn’t going be able to move off of square one, now.

She slowly rises to her feet, strolling around the perimeter of the room. Although her quarters at home are much more ornate, this room has grown upon her. In all of it’s clean-cut simplicity, she has honestly grown to enjoy the pleasant serenity of the room. But, that’s beside the point. Abandoning her bags in her room, she disappears silently down the hall, escaping into the kitchen for a few moments. She has very few ties to the home, and moreover, to the people living in it. However, if it’s worth anything, she doesn’t want to leave without making her mark. So, in a rather rushed fashion, she throws together the best brunch she can manage before cleaning the kitchen up and retreating back to her room to fetch her bags.

As she approaches the door moments later, dragging her bags behind her, Krystal finds herself confronted by an exhausted-looking Mrs. Kim. The two stand in silence for a minute before Krystal manages to bow her head and make for the door. “Soojung,” Mrs. Kim says quietly, effectively causing the girl to stop, “if it means anything, I quite like you and I wish you well.” Krystal nods, back still turned to her former employer. Then, without another word, she exits the house, drags her bags down the driveway, and catches the first taxi back to her parent’s home. For that’s the only place she can go.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Kim lopes towards the kitchen, rubbing her eyes tersely in an attempt to scrub the sleep out of them. Waiting ahead of her is a spread of somewhat touching proportions. Krystal had prepared bacon, a variety of egg dishes, she’d set out a selection of beverages in beautiful glass pitchers, and she’d cut the family’s favorite fruit up, as well. However, that wasn’t what caught the woman off-guard. Rather, the display of freshly made lemon tarts set at the very center of the kitchen counter is what truly took her breath away. Krystal was—is—fantastic.

And she just walked out the front door.

A/N;

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