t w o .

Her fingers graze over the smooth surface of the picture as a light smile forms on her lips. “It’s been a while, Jess,” Krystal whispers. “If you saw me now, would you be proud?” she continues, her eyes glancing over the smiling face of her older sister. They were the best of friends back then, when this picture was taken. But, now, their relationship is barely a memory.

“Soo Jung?”

Krystal looks up and blinks as the door to her room slowly opens, revealing the smiling face of Mrs. Kim. “Yes, M’am?” she begins standing up and placing her hands behind her back. The middle-aged woman smiles wider, white teeth sparkling as she does so. Something about her is unconditionally beautiful, but Krystal can’t quite put her finger on it.

“I’m going out to the store to buy something, can you set up the patio for me? I’m having a small gathering. I trust that you’ll make it look very nice,” she requests. Krystal nods and bows her head as the woman leaves her room. Minutes later, the door opens, signaling that she’s gone. And, finally, Krystal can breathe again. She didn’t realize that she was holding in her breath until she started to greedily air in. Pulling the picture out from behind her back, she runs her thumb over it lovingly.

“That was close,” she mumbles before tucking beneath her mattress.

Dusting her jeans off, Krystal sighs and exits her room for the first time since she first got here. She had known that the Kim’s were rich when she applied, yes, but not this rich. Their powder room is bigger than her whole apartment, to put it in perspective. Her eyes travel around the expansive living room, taking in each and every luxurious feature. From the cherry wood flooring to the elegant curved staircases.

Even the tapestries look expensive--they seem to be made out of some kind of fine fabric. Krystal’s fingers tap on the side of a couch as her gaze falls upon the wide, floor to ceiling windows. Outside, the frontyard displays an elegant fountain and fine landscaping. The grass is vibrant green and each blade seems to be the same length. Everything seems to be impressive about this house.

Krystal pads into the kitchen, deciding to get to work, and gathers some things before heading towards the patio. As she nears the french doors, someone steps in front of her, pinning her against the wall. She stares unblinkingly into the eyes of an attractive boy that seems to be her age, if not slightly older. Dark eyes pierce her skin as he examines her face. “So you’re the street rat maid,” he states.

“My name is Krystal, thank you very much,” she spits and moves to duck beneath his arm. Jongin smirks and blocks her once again, raising an eyebrow. “Really?” she growls, sending him an annoyed glance.

“The thing is, I didn’t say you can leave. Do you know who I am?”

Krystal smiles crookedly. “I can’t say I really care, to be honest,” she says. “Why don’t you be a good boy and let me do my job?” Jongin frowns and watches as she pushes past him and exits the house. His eyes narrow as the door swings shut. I hate people like that, Jongin thinks savagely before stalking away, obviously aggravated.

He thought it would be easy to get rid of her.

Krystal steps back and admires her handiwork. She’s never been one for work, to be honest, but decorating is kind of her thing. A stark white tablecloth covers the entirety of the long table. Floral cushions sit on each chair, and the dish ware has small flowers curling around the gold-rimmed edges. Mrs. Kim had given her the guest list, so she wrote their names on pink note cards and placed them in front of each spot. Flowers of all colors and type are placed in elegant crystal vases--Krystal had picked them herself from the Kim’s expansive garden.

Tiny cucumber sandwiches and various desserts sit on large platters, waiting for someone to come and take a bite. Looking down at her clothes, she frowns. Her white v-neck is covered in dirt and the light purple jeans she wears are filled with tiny rose thorns. She hadn’t even noticed how much of a beating she was taking. Brushing the pesky things off, she moves to re-enter the house.

Her eyes, however, drift up to a window on the second floor. Where a certain someone watches her with a scowl. Had he been there the whole time? If so, Krystal never took notice of his presence. “What an idiot,” she breathes as she pushes her hair out of her face and enters the house.

“Soo Jung!” Mrs. Kim calls from the front door. Krystal sighs and hurries towards where her employer waits. Her hands are laden with bags and a bright grin occupies her face. “Can you help me with these bags?” she asks, but doesn’t bother to wait for an answer as she hands the bags to the tiny girl. With that, she sits down on the couch and groans as she takes off her heels.

“Where I should put these, M’am?”

Mrs. Kim looks up and smiles. “It’s yours,” she announces. “I got it for you because I figured you wouldn’t have anything to wear during the party. I can’t have you looking bad!” Although the words are slightly offensive, Krystal smiles and accepts the clothes gratefully. Rich people are strange, after all. Apparently, it matters what your maids where. Then again, that might just be Mrs. Kim. She shoos Krystal off, ordering her to go change before the guests get to the house.

Minutes later and Krystal is standing in front of the mirror in her room, staring at someone foreign to her. Someone that doesn’t look menacing. Someone that doesn’t look like a bag of sarcasm. Someone who might actually be pretty if it wasn’t for the frown permanently planted on her face. Krystal wears an a-line dress that’s sky blue with pink flowers here and there. A silver headband sits atop her head, pulling her hair away from her face, and sky blue heels make her much taller than usual.

“Just because you dress up like a princess doesn’t mean you are one,” an unpleasant voice announces from the doorway. Krystal casts a troubled glance towards the attractive boy before dusting the skirt off and padding towards the door. As she nears him, she nearly trips, but she’s saved when Jongin grabs her arm. “And you obviously can’t act like one.”

With that, he leaves, with Krystal stomping after him. She mumbles obscenities, none of which she has the courage to say to her employer's son. God forbid she ever heard her. Jongin, however, just smirks as he shoves his hands into his pockets and avoids all of the guests. A party filled with middle-aged woman and greedy heiresses has never been his cup of tea--but his mother demanded that he attend.

“Jongin!” a short girl calls from by the cupcakes. Jongin curses silently and waits for the hurricane to arrive. “Oppa, it’s been so long,” the girl whines. “You never come to see me!” she continues, her hands clasping around his arm as she pulls him slightly.

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that.”

Someone snorts loudly at that, and Jongin is somehow not surprised to see ‘Krystal’ passing by with a tray of drinks. He’s tempted to trip her, yes, but decides against it. After all, his so called “companion” seems to already be on her case. “Did you just laugh, maid? What’s so funny, huh?” the girl demands, pointing her long finger at Krystal who smiles.

“You must be mistaken,” she says, “I didn’t laugh.”

The girl looks unconvinced as she folds her arms across her chest and pouts, occasionally glancing over at Jongin to see if he’ll react. Which, of course, he doesn’t. He just watches as Krystal walks off, her smile oh-so-fake as she serves each and every guest. He could make quick work of her if he finds a way to mess this party up and blame it on her. But something tells him that it’s just not that easy.

“I can’t believe Jaemin just picked that girl up off the street. She doesn’t look like something off the street, does she?” one of the older woman remarks, looking to the woman by her side, who nods. “She reminds me of someone, though.”

Jongin looks back at Krystal, who is beaming as a woman tries to engage her in conversation. A conversation that she obviously wants nothing to do with. He has to admit, she does look familiar. The kind of familiar that you can never pinpoint and remains as a mystery for the rest of your life. And, yes, she does have this air of superiority about her. She would look like any other heiress if it wasn’t for that edge she has. The edge that happens to intimidate the otherwise unphasable Kim Jongin.

The edge that Jongin finds oh-so-familiar.