"I can't believe you're making me do this."

"Oh, my God, just stay still!"

"This is insane! Seriously, how did I let you talk me into this?"

"Mark, either you shut up and help me or--"

"It's never going to work. He's just not that type."

"Mark, I swear, if you do not keep your word and help me on this, the next thing that comes out of my mouth will be a few generous words to Unnie."

Mark eyed you suspiciously. "What do you know." He hissed, pupils dark, fists clenched.

You shrugged with an innocent pout. "Let's just say that," you chuckled. "The next time you have a wet dream about my big sis, don't tell BamBam."

"I am going to kill that little--"

"Shut up, he's here!"

Okay, so maybe it wasn't exactly the best plan that you could have come up with. But after being teased and charmed to death only to be left alone because of Jackson, you'd had enough. For some reason, the only thing you could think of doing to get back at him and finally get him to back of was to, well, steal his 'mandu'.

Jackson wasn't as hyper as he appeared on camera. Sure, he had his moments, but he could be really sweet when he wanted to. At first, you found yourself falling head over heels in love with him, but somehow everything got turned around, and now you two were in an unspoken battle to see who would cave first.

After numerous 'coincidences' like hitting on the waitress at the barbecue place right in front of you or the time you swore he was about to kiss you only to have him laugh in your face because your eyeliner was smeared, you were finished. You needed the ultimate way to get back at him and somehow win him over at the same time.

"I hate you so much right now." Mark mumbled with an overzealous smile on his face, already letting the acting sink in.

You matched his demeanor, his exposed bicep with your dainty fingers. "If you ever want me to put in a good word for you with my Unnie, you better deal with it." You ended your threat with your signature giggle paired up with a little flick of your hair.

Mark threw his arm around you, and you two walked across the studio in clear view of Jackson.

While Mark was too busy trying to look like he didn't despise you, you snuck a peek off to the side to find Jackson fuming at the sight before him. And while you felt some gracious form of satisfaction, you couldn't ever remember a single instance of seeing him this angry. Heck, he was livid--red face, brooding eyes, and a death grip on the hem of shirt that would have been enough to scare away JYP sunbaenim himself.

His aura distracted you enough to stumble over your own feet. The tumble didn't just take you down either. Mark swore under his breath as you dragged him down with you. Whether or not it was an effort to keep the act going, your acting partner landed square on top of you, his face a few inches from yours with his arms on your sides.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked in a rush. "What the hell was that!" He glared a bit under his bangs.

"That wasn't my fault!" You hit his shoulder with your open hand.

"Get a room."

Jackson managed to see everything and storm out of the room, his foot stomping right by yours and Mark's faces in the process. He didn't even bother looking back at you as he left.

You knew that you should feel good about this. Maybe this meant you won?

Mark hung his head down. ", he is never going to forgive me." He let out a grunting sigh before sitting upright against the wall.

You remained in your stunned position on the floor, eyes in a daze. "What?"

Mark wiped the sweat off his brow with his fingers before nibbling on his lip, trying to form his words carefully. "We shouldn't have done this, _____. It was too much."

You sat up, instantly glaring at your friend with piercing eyes. "And why not? Okay, Jackson has done enough to get me riled up. It's not like hasn't flirted--"

"With complete strangers and other girls he had absolutely no interest in whatsoever."

A bead of sweat slipped past your temple. "Why should it matter?" You prodded with a small voice. "It isn't like it hurts any less."

Mark looked at you, absorbing in your naivety with brother-like eyes. "He likes you, _______, and you know that. But his pride won't let him admit to it. Making him think that you chose me, one of his closest friends, over him? That was the biggest punch in the gut. Basically, you just told him that he wasn't good enough."

You felt the heat in the room instantly crank up. For two seconds, you hated Mark as much as he hated you five minutes ago, but you couldn't bring yourself to retort. You knew how that felt because that was how you felt every single time it felt like Jackson got close to you and then let it all go like you were just an old t-shirt he'd outgrown. But Mark was right.

This was different.

Mark leaned forward. "Like... how would you feel if Jackson suddenly changed his mind and played this game with someone else? Like your Unnie?"

You sighed, setting your face in your hands. You didn't want to look at him right now. He was on psychiatrist mode, and he was reading you like an open book.

"I'm just saying, ______." Mark put his hand on your head and ruffled your hair. "There's no use in trying to win over someone who was already yours."

Dammit, Mark.

You stood up, shoving his hand aside. "I have to go."

Mark didn't even stop you as you ran out into the hallway, scanning every room for Jackson. After it felt like you'd seen ever room three times over, you gave up.

But not before smacking into him right as your turned the corner.

Jackson fixed his hat before straightening up. He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact with you, and while you wanted to know he was paying attention, you didn't know if you'd be able to face him with those eyes on you.

"Jackson, I wanted to apologize." You spoke quickly and articulately. "You shouldn't have seen that. It was immature of me."

"It's okay." He shrugged. "If you and Mark want to express your feelings in that way, then it was immature of me to make a big deal out of it."

"Oppa, I don't like Mark."

Jackson's eyes flashed upward at the sound of 'Oppa.' He could remember the last time you'd called him that, and even back then, it made his face turn different shades of red.

"You don't--"

"Mark was only helping me get back at you." You took a deep breath. "Because... I llllllike you." You drew out your words.

It wouldn't be a lie to say that you'd daydreamed about confessing to him plenty of times, but this wasn't exactly how to pictured it happening. Jackson didn't even respond for the next ten seconds that followed, and for some reason, that bothered you. Before you knew it, you were tapping your foot, counting the seconds pass by standing there in silence.

"Well, okay, if you have nothing to say, then I--"

As you made an attempt to walk past him, you felt Jackson's hands on your waist before feeling your back smack up against the wall behind you. He held you close, his nose grazing yours. All you could feel was the heat rising off his skin and his fingers slowly slipping under the wrinkles in your shirt.

"How long have you liked me?" Jackson's bottom lip skimmed against your top lip in an attempt to tease.

"If this is going to be another one of your games, then--"

Before you could finish, Jackson's hips bucked towards you, and any space left between you and the wall became nonexistent.

Your legs trembled at the close quarters.

He eyed you intently, scanning every aspect of your face--root to brow, brow to lip, lip to the nape of your neck, quivering under his influence.

"Would you hate me if I kissed you right now?" He whispered.

You didn't even have time to gather your thoughts before Jackson's lips were on yours. Two wonderfully soft patches of skin against you, letting everything out. You sighed into the kiss, making him smile.

He pulled away, letting his childish side out before pecking you once more on the lips then trailing kisses across your cheeks then onto your neck. You couldn't help but giggle at how quickly the cloud over the situation lifted.

"I wish you'd told me sooner." He smirked. "But then again, I guess I could have said something, too." He backed away, letting you move away from the wall.

You tucked your hair behind your ear before catching his eyes, still on your figure. You pushed his shoulder playfully. "You dummy." You grabbed his hand and aimed back towards the practice room. "Come on. Let's go talk to Mark, so he'll get caught up and feel better."

Turning the corner to face the open door, you found yourself frozen in the spot as Mark wasn't alone in the room. Your Unnie seemed abnormally comfortable sitting in his lap with her face nuzzled in his neck.

"UNNIE, WHAT ARE YOU--"

Jackson clamped his hand over your mouth. "Sorry, sorry, continue, we'll go now!"

So much for making him feel better.