Wonbin struggles to define his place in Wonyoung’s chaotic life as the physical intensity of their relationship ramps up. Meanwhile, the dark reality of the idol industry begins to cast a shadow over their secret romance.
“Wonyoung! Wait—please, I can explain!”
She was already halfway down the hallway, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“Wonyoung-ah—just stop for a second!”
But she didn’t. Her footsteps were fast and uneven, stumbling like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to run or collapse.
“Please—just listen to me! Wonyoung, please!”
Her back suddenly stiffened, and she turned slowly towards me.
“You kissed her,” she said sharply, her face unreadable by the harsh hallway light.
“No—it’s not what you think—”
“I saw you, Wonbin.” Her voice cracked. “I saw your face. Your eyes were closed, and your hands—were all over her.”
“I wasn’t! She kissed me—I tried to stop her—”
“So you had the strength to carry Rei across the room earlier, but you couldn’t stop Yujin from coming onto you?”
“Wonyoung—I—” The words tangled on my tongue. “You’re right—I messed up, I know I did, and I’m sorry. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. But I really didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t know what to do, so you grabbed a handful of her ass while she stuck her tongue down your throat?” She looked away in disgust. “And you said you loved me? And after everything I said—”
“Wonyoung—” I reached for her hand, but she yanked it back like I had burned her.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” she said in a tone that I never imagined I’d ever hear from her. A tone so terrifying and cold that it made my chest cave in.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping to my knees before her. The impact shot through my legs, but I barely felt it—everything else hurt way more.
I didn’t know what else to do, it was like my world was shattering in front of me. Everything I’d ever dreamed of actually came true, and yet in just a fleeting moment, it all disappeared.
“Do you think that begging works on me?” she asked.
“You’re right. I should’ve stopped her. I could’ve. I was too stupid. But I swear I’ve never looked at her like that—it’s always been you. I wish it had been you. I wanted it to be you. But it wasn’t, and I was wrong, and I’m just so sorry.”
She didn’t say a word.
“I’m sorry, Wonyoung…” I said again, even though I knew she was right. Repeating it changed nothing. Begging was futile.
“Today was one of the happiest days of my life,” she said.
“Mine too.”
“It felt like a fairytale to me.”
“Me too.”
“And you ruined it.”
Her words cut like a dull knife. Sharp enough to puncture a wound, but not enough to end the pain quickly.
“I know, I’m so sorry, Wonyoung. I’m really so sorry.”
She let the silence stretch until it nearly snapped, then looked down at me with her arms folded. "Then prove it.”
“What?”
“If you mean it, then prove it.”
“Okay—I’ll prove it. I’ll do it. Anything. I’ll do anything.”
Her eyes sharpened, and her posture straightened, like she wasn’t even drunk anymore. “Be mine then.”
“I am. I’m already yours, I’ve always been.”
“No,” she said, her voice colder than ever. “Not like that.”
I swallowed hard, my throat closing up. “Then what do you mean?”
She began to circle me slowly. “As of today, you’re no longer my best friend.”
My breathing stopped. “W-what?”
“And you’re definitely not going to be my lover, my boyfriend, or whatever stupid fantasy you had in your head.”
“I-I’m not sure what you’re saying right now—”
“Wonbin.” She leaned down, just enough to meet my eyes. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Answer the question. Are you going to be mine or what? Yes or no.”
“Your what?”
“My slave.”
From the moment those words left her lips, my life was never the same again.
I never thought even in my wildest nightmares that my relationship with Wonyoung would turn out this way. But eventually, it became the only thing I knew.
My routine was simple. Attend class during the day, work my part-time job at the café in the evening, and at night, be available whenever she asked for me.
She was a methodical person, so most of the time, our meetings followed a pattern: right after a concert, a full day of practice, filming a music video or commercial, or after she came back from being away.
The only unpredictable part was the location.
For most nights, it would be at her own apartment in Cheongdam, but there were special occasions where we would meet at a fancy hotel closest to where she was at the time of the text.
“Grand Hyatt. Room 1134. 30 minutes.”
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