The calls wouldn't stop coming. I could barely breathe, let alone speak to anyone.
My fingers clenched around the handle of the frying pan I held over the stove, while my other hand lightly shuffled a few bits of meat onto the piece of metal with a spatula. I wasn't hungry. I was just trying to give myself a sense of normalcy, to try to make everything I was feeling go away.

Zico, he was sitting at the kitchen table. Just a few feet from where I was standing. Rather than our usual banter, the atmosphere was instead replaced with an eerie, tense silence. So silent, that I feared Zico could hear every aching heart beat pounding against my chest.
Again, the sound of the phone ringing ripped through the silence, drilling its tone into the side of my skull.

"Don't pick it up." Zico spoke plainly, still diligently jotting things down into his notebook.

I felt my teeth bite my lip as I slowly tilted the frying pan sideways, lightly dumping the charred pieces of meat onto a plate. Don't pick it up? God, as if I didn't ing know already. He repeats that sentence every time the phone rings, like he's afraid that I'll suddenly get up and pick it up after a certain number of calls.

I stared at the ruined dish with an indescribable expression, my hands leaning against the kitchen counter. All I could hear was the tedious sound of my faucet dripping, along with the scratches of Zico's pen against paper.

My throat felt dry, completely deprived of moisture. I wondered if it was from my nonstop crying since the day the headlines came out. Which was yesterday.
An immense pounding sensation drummed against the inside of my head, thoughts ramming on top of each other while my fingers scraped over the glass counter. I was so enveloped in my own migraine that I hadn't noticed a figure had draped itself across my shoulders, the sensation of large hands crawling overtop of my own.

A husky breath tickled my ear as I heard the familiar voice.
"I missed you while I was gone."

I couldn't do it anymore. I snapped.

Everything seemed as if it were moving in slow motion as I immediately turned around and shoved Zico away from me, my breathing heavy and fast.
He stared at me with a dull expression, like he was expecting this. Or, even, instigating it.

I continued to look at him while my chest heaved up and down, eyes beginning to well up with tears. I didn't know what to say, nor did I want to say anything. He was just looking at me. He was waiting for me to say something first. He was so manipulative.

"I tried to pretend like it didn't happen." I began as my voice cracked, hands trembling in either rage or sadness. "I tried to throw those newspapers away. I haven't talked to my family. But you're still making it so hard. Why are you making it so hard? I'm trying...For you!"

As I watched him stare at me, I noticed he was trying to hold back from smiling.

"I'm sorry, Michelle.." He spoke, voice like silk. "You know how much I love to see you cry."

Absolutely sickened to the bone, I lost sight of everything. I wasted no time and immediately headed for my apartment door, grabbing my jacket and purse along the way. By the time I'd finally wrapped my fingers around the knob, the feeling of a grip latched around my upper arm, stopping me.

"Are you leaving me?" He asked.

I turned my head ever so slightly, so that I could barely see him in the corner of my eye. Why did he always do this..

"Stop it, Jiho." I spoke as I attempted to pry his hand off of me, but he was too strong. He remained in the same position he was in before.

"Let's go to a nice restaurant tonight." He suggested, tightening his grip. I slightly winced. "I'll make you forget it all happened."

I wanted to say no. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me, telling me not to go.
But when I looked him in those beautiful eyes of his, I felt mesmerized. Trapped, almost. He was the love of my life. I could never say no to him.

Taking my silence and state of vulnerability as a yes, Zico smiled his usual smile and released his grip. He swiftly turned as he walked towards his suitcase that he had left in my apartment the day he came back from his tour in Japan. The day those headlines came out. He had come straight to my house from his flight.

I watched as he knelt down and ped the large thing, shuffling through some clothes before finally pulling out a grey, button up shirt, along with black trousers. He cracked his neck as he stood back up and straightened his back out, peeling his shirt over his neck.

"Wear this." He spoke as he handed me a piece of fabric, the soft touch cascading over my fingertips.

Once I took the dress from him, he went back to changing his clothes, shuffling on his shoes as well. I unraveled what he had given me, and saw that it was a beautiful, black dress. It was loose, flowing at the bottom. It stopped at my mid thigh, and it was like a halter top where a string curled around my neck.
I looked up at him and realized that he was already dressed. Now he was just leaning on the wall and looking at his phone, waiting on me. .

I carefully peeled off my long sleeved shirt and shorts, exposing myself in just a bra and . Without looking at Zico, I already knew he was staring dead at me. Well, it's not like it's anything he hasn't seen before.

It just felt...Different this time.

I gently rolled the dress over my head and allowed it to drift down my body, fluttering slightly on the way down. It fit me beautifully, hugging all the right curves and features. My fingers clasped a pair of tan heels that were pointed at the tip. Zico loved shoes like this; he thought they were classy and y.

"Ready?" He asked me, walking towards the door and holding it open. All I could do was stare as he flashed me his alluring smile again, falling deeper into his hell.

-----

Once we reached the restaurant, I stepped out of the car and stared up at the magnificent sight. It was physically captivating. The white, beige mixture that was painted all across the outside, and the large glass windows that practically showed everyone inside. A true eating place fit for celebrities and important people.

I began to take a step forward, when a hand slipped around my waist and brought me closer to a source of heat. No surprise, Zico had begun walking beside me, his head leaned close to mine.

We casually stepped in through the large swiveling doors, quickly followed by a man who held out his arm for our jackets. Zico absentmindedly tossed his jacket over towards the man before pushing me in front of the host.

"Hello, Mr. Woo." The host spoke with a smile as he clicked his pen. "I will write you a table immediately."

The host turned his head and waved his hand, motioning for a waiter to Zico and I to our seats. I followed one of the men while Zico trailed beside me, the walk to the table seeming farther and longer than it was.

Once we reached our table, the waiter bowed before briskly walking away, leaving Zico and I alone once again. I dully wrapped my fingers around my glass of water and brought the substance to my lips. Truthfully, I didn't want to be here. I didn't even want to be with him. I was just so...Obedient whenever he stared at me with those eyes.

"Let's have steak for tonight." Zico spoke as he gazed at me, leaning his chin on the palm of his hand. He was staring at me, his eyes trailing up and down my features.

I simply nodded in response, trying to look around the restaurant and distract myself with the champagne chandeliers and velvet table curtains. It was all so elegant. Too much for me.

"I have something for you." Zico whispered ever so quietly, just enough to make me turn my head.

I watched as he pulled out a small box from his pocket. It was black, with silver lettering engraved on the front that read, "M".
My eyes widened as he carefully pushed the box towards me, his expression giddy with amusement.

I looked up at him cautiously before looking back down at the box. My fingers gently slid across the smooth surface before dragging it down towards me. I lifted the box to my face, observing it before opening it to see what was inside.

It was magnificent.

An absolutely stunning necklace, embroidered with silver and white lining, a single diamond hanging from the beautifully silky chain. The diamond was encompassed in a tangle of other metals, whipping around the jewel as if protecting it.

"This is beautiful.." I felt myself whisper, staring at the object with a dumbstruck look on my face. But, I couldn't help but feel so...Disgusted with how content I was with his excuse of an apology for his actions.

"Took me forever to find the right one." Zico chuckled as he leaned back in his seat. "I picked it because the diamond was kind of big. Just like your head."

"Shut up." I muttered, rolling my eyes. But I couldn't help but allow a small smile to trace over my lips. He was so snarky sometimes.

As I shut the box and placed it down onto the table, I knew I couldn't be truly happy with this.

The entire reason Zico was giving me this necklace was because he wanted to stop me from leaving him from having a in Japan. Infidelity. Adultery. Cheat. All smeared across newspapers and netizen websites. His management is working on saying the photos aren't of him, and that it was edited. But all of my close friends and family knew better. So did I.

"I'm filming the next episode of Show Me The Money 4 tomorrow, so I want you to come to the set with me." Zico suddenly spoke up, taking a sip of his drink.

I looked up in slight confusion. "Why so suddenly?"

"They want to meet you." He responded nonchalantly. "The other producers."

I simply looked back down at my empty plate and nodded. This is what it was like dating a celebrity. Half of our dates or time we spent together was me meeting him on set.

The other half I barely knew where he was.