Yerim took a bite of her peach. The same one that Jungkook had shoved in her hand about two weeks ago. Unlike him, though, the fruit wasn't rotten.

She navigated to her destination.

Thomas Sawyer
Environmental Engineer at Star Services

The man on the profile was older than her by one or two years only. With his easy smile and even easier jokes, Thomas was a charmer, working his magic on her two years ago at a conference. Later that night, she had been delighted to find out that the company he worked at aligned with the theme of her portfolio. However, caught up with her personal issues and her workload, she had forgotten about him until now. Yerim didn't know if he still remembered her, but setting up a quick meeting wouldn't hurt. Besides, if she could get him to take an interest in her portfolio, then she could end this fake-dating mess with Jungkook.

She had just sent a quick message asking to connect with him when her phone started ringing.

"What?" Yerim snapped, throwing the core of the peach into the trash can with more force than necessary. It made a loud thunk.

Jungkook's voice was deep, almost gruff. "Are you free right now? We can do a basic overview of your portfolio."

"Have you never heard of something called texting?"

"I like calling better."

"Well," she grumbled. "I don't like talking to you."

A small pause. "I'm thinking you need to be more cooperative for this arrangement to work."

Snorting, Yerim grabbed her purse, walking to the entrance of her apartment. "I'm actually busy."

"Really?" His voice sounded skeptical.

"Don't worry," she deadpanned, putting on her shoes. "I'm not a liar."

Another pause. "When will you be free?"

"Probably the end of this week?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you on Friday after work?"

"Great," she said with zero enthusiasm. "Looking forward to it."

The asshole actually sounded genuine when he responded with a "Me, too."

However, Yerim had no time to think about that because the moment she hung up on Jungkook and got into her car, her phone started ringing again. Her mom's nurse showed up on her screen.

"Your mom is doing great," Joy said the moment she picked up.

Yerim perked up. "Really?"

"As great as she can be. She still thinks her dead sister is standing in the corner and watching her, but that's nothing new."

Hope was a double edged sword. It was always there, hiding in some part of Yerim's heart, but it did nothing except let her down. Joy's news should've bought her joy, but it did the exact opposite. Three years had already passed since her mom was diagnosed with stage four of Alzheimer's disease, yet every single day, some foolish part of her still hoped that therapy and medicine could cure her. At least, her mom's newest story wasn't that bizarre. There was one time Yerim's mom had swore that her grandma was trying to drag her to the gates of heaven.

"Thanks for taking care of her again." She buckled in her seatbelt, turned on the engine, and backed out of the driveway. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Of course. I'll see you soon."

This time, Yerim was genuine when she replied, "Can't wait."

...

Five times.

For the past two weeks, Yerim had been in Jungkook's office four times; this would make it the fifth time. It was one too many, especially since she had made it her life goal to avoid him as much as possible.

The moment Saturday hit, she was going to drag Jimin and Irene to their favorite bar, so she could get so shitfaced, she wouldn't even understand English. Destress and hang out with her friends: it had been almost two months since the last time they drank their worries away.

"Are we still on for Friday?" Jungkook asked, interrupting her dreams.

Yerim snorted. "You dragged me to your office just to ask this question. Couldn't you text?"

"I've told you before. I like talking."

"You're wasting my time, though."

Jungkook frowned, glancing at the clock. "Last time I checked, you're currently on your break."

"Yes, we're still on." Yerim chose to answer his question instead of acknowledging his comment. "I'll come to your office when I'm done for the day. Is that good?"

Six.

That would be the sixth time.

God, she really needed to get drunk.

...

"I hate him so much."

Irene gave Yerim a sympathetic pat as Jimin slid another shot of tequila to her. She had specifically requested one that would slide down her throat and leave a burning, disgusting aftertaste. The perfect kind to drink if a quick and seamless knockout was needed.

"The moment we started to work together, he became all egotistical and annoying." Yerim gripped the shot glass with so much strength that she was surprised it didn't burst apart into shards. "I would say something, which he would immediately fix. He doesn't even give me a chance to explain properly." She growled. "That's not everything, though. He calls me to his office instead of emailing or texting like a normal person."

The music at the bar was loud and harsh, so her friends probably didn't hear the atomic bomb that left her chest.

"I shouldn't have agreed to this whole deal," she grumbled before downing the next shot. She slammed the glass on the table and beckoned Jimin for more.

"At least he doesn't look like a dwarf," Irene laughed.

"That's the thing!" Yerim took another shot, grimacing at the burn. "He's objectively an attractive motherfucker!"

Jimin's eyebrows shot up, faster than a rocket.

"Don't give me that look. I meant it as he knows he's attractive, so he uses that to his advantage." She rolled her eyes, except she was already starting to feel the alcohol, so she might've just simply looked up at the ceiling. "I'm positive that one time, he called me a second after having sex. His voice was all gruff and deep, and he definitely didn't just roll out of bed, since it was seven in the evening."

"First, that's disgusting." Irene took another shot with Yerim. "Second, what if he was taking a nap?"

"I don't believe that." Yerim protested.

Jimin seemed to want to deny it too, but eventually, he sagged and gave a nod of defeat.

"See," she mumbled. "I'm not crazy."

"I think I am, though"

The voice belonged to Irene. Or at least, Yerim thought it did. She didn't really know. Her head was spinning.

"I think I'm actually crazy," Irene repeated.

Was Irene drunk?

Yerim blinked; she was definitely feeling something. Her vision was becoming a bit blurry. Fantastic. A few more shots, and she'll be wiped out. The good kind of "wiped out". Then, she could dance to her heart's content.

"No, Yerim. I'm being serious." It was Irene again. This time, her hands landed on Yerim's shoulder and shook. Hard.

"We all crazy," Yerim slurred, reaching out for another shot.

Jimin stopped her, though, shaking his head. "That's enough for you."

Pouting, Yerim poked his chest. "Youllre not dunmk." She exhaled, gathering her words. "I need more!" Each syllable was emphasized, slow and separate, as if she was learning a new language.

He laughed, putting her hand back to her side. "This alcohol hit you out of nowhere, so you're definitely drunk. If you drink anymore, you're going to be vomiting instead of dancing."

Irene slowly spun Yerim around her stool, mostly because the latter was dangerously close to sliding off it. "Is this all because of Jungkook?"

"Wha?!" Yerim snorted, flinging her head back. "Of cour, not!" She stumbled off the stool. "I wan to dane with you."

Then, before Irene could protest, Yerim pulled her into the middle of the dance floor. Or more like: dragged and tripped. Somehow, though, they made it to the crowd in one piece.

"They're playing my favorite song!" Yerim shrieked, throwing her arms up to the music. The upbeat melody flowed through her body, the lyrics and harmony swirling and mixing to form wings and lift her up to the disco ball scattering rectangles of blue and green and red.

One way or another, while dancing, her ass landed on a crotch and two hands circled around her wrist.

Plus one for Yerim!

But, not even what felt like five minutes later, the warmth behind her disappeared. With a small cry of protest, she was being pulled, pulled, pulled out of the mob and into the outskirts. 

"Who?" Yerim shouted, blindly turning around to grab at the culprit. Her hands landed on two very solid, very warm, very hard biceps, and all her annoyance melted. She sighed and without even identifying the person, leaned her forehead against the yummy arms. "Actually, it's fine. Are you free tonight?" She giggled. "Because I am."

"Yerim."

The voice sounded too familiar. The same exasperation that made every other syllable of the word sound strained and tight. The same deep, gruff bark that was straight to the point and commanded even the most rebellious soldier.

"Junkoo," she gasped, jerking back. Except she was still a bit unsteady on her feet, so the sudden movement made her topple backward.

His hands landed on her waist, and she was swinging the other direction until her face was smashed against his chest.

Holy shit, it was her boss.

"Wha are yo doig here?" she slurred, trying to pull away, but his arms were bands of steel around her body, keeping her close to him.

"I should be asking you that. Why are you this drunk?"

"Becaus o you!" Yerim screamed, although her words were muffled. "I swear to god, you're everwhre!"

His lips tickled her ear when he said, "The same could be said for you."

Alarms started ringing in her body.

Too close.

Yerim tried squirming away but to no avail. "Let me go."

"I can't. You'll fall flat on your face." Jungkook pulled away, though: just enough so that they could look at each other without kissing, even though he was still holding her. "I'm glad I bumped into you, though. We need to talk about your cheating."

Her eyebrows furrowed, or at least she thought it furrowed because she couldn't really understand what her body was doing right now. Like why was she suddenly not trying to get away and instead leaning closer. Like why was her hands grabbing onto the shirt that fit his body so perfectly well. Like why all she wanted was to fall asleep in his arms because nothing was warmer than him.

"C..." She struggled to form the word. It was thick and clumsy on her tongue. "Cheating..."

"Hold up. Are you okay?" This time, his voice was gentler, almost like a lullaby. Her eyes were starting to close for more than five seconds per blink, despite the music still pulsing and pounding in the background. "Hey, Yerim, don't go unconscious on me."

"I told you...," she said, voice softer than pillow. "... not to call me..."