a/n: just hit a bit more than 20k words 🤯🤯🤯 almost halfway to a normal book length DJDJD (~50k) but wow! i cant believe I did all of this HHAHAH even if it prob won't reach 50k

ANYWAYS, THANKS FOR READING!

Although the design of the black dress was simple, Yerim was positive the material was worth more than her life. It was like sand, flowing through her fingers, molding to the shape of her body, clinging to curves she didn't even know existed.

"I really don't need a dress this expensive." She searched for a price tag and almost peed her pants when she saw the four figure number on the small piece of paper. Around 9000 dollars. Holy moly. "I'm going to accidentally damage it. Or rip it."

Jungkook's childhood nanny, Jean, an older lady with the smoothest hair and skin, shook her head. "Jungkook told me you'll be hesitant. He also said to stand firm."

Yerim sighed. That was so Jungkook-like, to be exerting his influence even if he wasn't present. (Three hours before he was supposed to pick her up for dress-shopping, he had texted her saying an urgent meeting had come up, and his nanny would be coming instead.)

She sighed again, losing the heart to argue more. Jean, who had probably spent her whole life being a follower, looked uncomfortable asserting herself, as if she was being tortured.

Instead, she texted Jungkook: This dress costs more than what I'm worth.

It didn't escape her notice that if the dress was this fancy, the wedding would be even more extravagant. Everyone there was probably also as rich and prolific as Jungkook, people who didn't mingle with commoners.

Yerim: Who's going to be there? Who's getting married?

Jungkook: Mevin San Francisco, their state governor, and a bunch of smaller architect firms. The daughter of Mevin SF's CEO is getting married.

Oh god.

Not as if the event wasn't hosted by the nation's biggest architect firm and by the governor of the nation's third biggest state.

Jungkook: There's going to be a lot of people, so you probably won't even see them.

Nonetheless, she cursed herself for not asking earlier and collapsed onto the couch before springing back up, afraid to wrinkle the dress. Then, she rubbed her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. She couldn't do this. If the wedding was a networking event, then she would've breezed through it. However, this event probably required a different kind of charm, one that only the top percentage of the population possessed.

Yerim was so fucked.

"Jungkook means well," Jean said, interrupting her mini-crisis.

"Really," she deadpanned. Dragging her to this wedding was akin to throwing her into a pool of sharks and killer whales.

Jean laughed, the sound so merry and light that Yerim swore it came straight from the soundtrack of a Disney movie. "He's always been a persistent guy." She spun Yerim around with gentle hands, so that they were both facing the mirror. Because Jean was only taller than Yerim by an inch, her eyes barely peeked out above Yerim's shoulder. However, the portion that was showing was warm and shiny. "Besides, dear, you look beautiful."

Yerim grinned, stepping aside a bit so Jean could also see the mirror without straining. They weren't friends, were merely acquaintances, but what Yerim knew of Jean, she liked a lot. "You fixed me up real well."

"Because this dress was made for you." Jean fixed a strayaway strand of hair. "He's lucky he has you."

At that, Yerim couldn't help but snort. She forgot that in Jean's mind, she and Jungkook are a lovey-dovey couple. Jean must've heard Yerim because another merry laugh came out of her mouth; even her eyes curved into gorgeous half moons.

"Jungkook is so lucky to have a nanny like you," Yerim corrected. "How long have you been his nanny?"

She tilted her head, eyes flickering to the ceiling for a second before she answered, "Officially twelve years, but I've been around his whole life, so more than twenty years."

"Wow." Yerim glanced into the mirror again, at the dress and at Jean. She suddenly felt out of place standing there, an imposter who dared to intrude into a perfect life. "He must've had it great." She couldn't help but squash a bit of jealousy. It was an involuntary feeling that arose everytime she thought of longevity and eternity.

"He has the typical rich son problem, the one you see in fiction, except his is more realistic."

Yerim laughed dryly. "What?"

"A lot of issues with strict parents. Expectations of fitting the perfect 'heir' image. The usual."

Yerim thought about why they had started the fake-dating in the first place. She then realized that when he had seen Marie, it was the only time he had ever looked truly horrified. Most of the time, Jungkook was composed and in control, from the way he handled his employees to the way he poked and prodded at her own insecurities.

"In fact, you'll probably see them at the wedding."

Yerim groaned. She had not thought about that. The more she learned about the wedding, the more she dreaded the event. She should've said no, should've paid more attention during the impromptu bowling session. What a fantastic hole she had dug herself in.

"Has he always been so straightforward?"

Jean nodded. "A habit he developed ages ago."

"Why?"

"That, you will have to ask him yourself."

Yerim sighed. So much for getting all the dirty deets on Jungkook.

"It's his own story to tell." Jean turned Yerim back around and gave her one last look over. "Let me say it again, darling. You look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you." Yerim's eyebrows furrowed. "It's not my wedding, though, so do you think I'll be outshining the bride in a dress this expensive? Maybe we can tone it down a bit."

Jean looked amused. "Like I said, there'll be a lot of people. And it's okay to take a compliment. Believe me."

Yerim's eyes widened. The last thing she was expecting were those words. Maybe she had gotten it all wrong. Maybe Jean was like Jungkook. Maybe that's where he got his skills to read people.

At her surprise, Jean laughed. "Jungkook talks a lot about you."

...

After getting dropped off at her apartment, Yerim spent the hour before she was supposed to go sipping on wine, trying to calm her nerves.

Jean's words - "you'll probably meet his parents" - kept on replaying over and over in her head. She didn't like that she was already at this level with Jungkook, even if it was fake. Nowadays, more and more things were starting to feel more intimate and personal than before, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

A knock on the door startled the soul out of Yerim's body.

She put her wine glass down, wiped the sweat off of her hand, and went to open the door. She wasn't ready for the sight on the other side of the door; if she was, then she would've prepared herself, would have averted her eyes or something.

Instead, Yerim laughed, maniacally.

Jungkook looked ridiculously attractive in a black suit that accentuated every muscle on his upper chest and that tapered at the bottom to fit the shape of his narrow waist. His hair was slicked back, even neater than the middle part he usually wore to work and a far cry from the bedhead she had caught him with at the grocery store. His pants, emphasizing the thickness of his thighs, looked crisp and sleek.

In his hand was a single red rose.

"For you, my lady," he said, holding it out to her with a dainty tilt of his wrist.

Yerim stared at the rose, treating it like thorns would shoot out and poison her.

"Are you going to take it or am I going to stand here for the next eternity?"

She stiffly grabbed the rose. "What is this?"

"A rose."

"I know." She emphasized the second word. "But why are you giving me this?"

"Because I wanted to see your reaction, and it lived up to all my dreams."

Yerim's jaw dropped as she pushed Jungkook's hard chest. "Jerk," she muttered, although her heart wasn't fully in the insult. No, the rose was pretty, and he looked like a dark prince handing it to her. Ugh, what a bothersome turn of events, this new, completely unwanted attraction she suddenly had for him. She blamed it on the dry spell that he had forced onto their contract.

"I feel like I'm going to my wedding," she said as she grabbed her clutch and stepped out the door. Locking it, she followed Jungkook to the elevator, ignoring the way his shoulders literally took up the width of the hallway.

"Jean told me you were nervous."

She had a fleeting thought about how close Jean and Jungkook were, about whether Jean knew they weren't actually dating. If Jean had already told Jungkook everything, then he must also know that Yerim knew a bit about his parents' situation. She briefly wondered what he thought about that.

Jungkook pressed the down button and the elevator immediately opened. "Should I help you with that?"

"Help me?" Yerim scoffed, stepping inside as the door closed. "How can you help with that?" She turned around, about to stand in the elevator normally like a normal person, when Jungkook prowled forward.

Literally prowled, even though the distance between her back and the wall of the elevator was a mere foot.

Nonetheless, her back slammed into the cold steel, a contrast to the heat of his body, and she gasped, looking up right into Jungkook's eyes. They were back to being intense again, except this time it was more smothering, a bit more dark, a bit more wild.

Her lips parted on impulse.

"I have plenty of ways," he whispered, leaning down to her ears. His lips were soft against the shell of her ear, and it took everything in her not to lean into his touch, not to arch her back. "By the way, you look absolutely stunning in this dress."

She blinked.

Because that was the only thing she was capable of doing.

His eyes dropped to her mouth.

She tried not to reciprocate that action.

He smiled. "We're finally starting to get to know each other..."

That snapped her out of the haze that seemed to envelope and heat up her body. "Alright, buddy," she growled, ignoring the hitch in her voice, pushing him with two fingers.

Jungkook's eyes were hooded, long eyelashes framing molten eyes. "... and I promise, you're not going to regret it. In fact, you're going to like it very much."

And then he stepped back.

Immediately, the heat and tension fled the elevator, his body relaxed, and he turned to the front, shoving his hands into his pockets. In fact, the change in him was so abrupt that she was left wondering if she had just invented the whole scenario in her head.

"You're not feeling nervous anymore, right?" Jungkook's voice sounded strained with the same husky quality that she heard when she answered his call at eight in the morning the other day. "Remember that hatred you have for me, and I promise you the wedding will end in a second."

Her jaws dropped. God, she was going to kill him.

As Yerim followed him out the elevator and to his car, though, somehow her hand found his, as if they were two broken soulmates being reunited for the first time in forever. It felt like a scene straight from the fairy tales: Prince Charming leading his Cinderella to the darkness of the night.

Secretive and alluring.

He was right. Her heart was pounding for a completely different reason now.

...

The venue was massive.

It felt bigger than her college campus, bigger than a state, bigger than a nation, with colosseum white walls, domed ceilings, and beautiful chandeliers. Every space was decorated with expensive looking candles and bouquets of pink, red, yellow, and white flowers. Around every corner was a waiter, smiling and offering grilled salmon appetizers to whoever walked past them. Women and men of all ages hugged and gave compliments in their fancy dresses and hair-do's, looking like they belonged in a different era, one where balls and masquerades and secret rendezvous were still common.

Yerim suddenly felt underdressed in her black dress.

Jungkook, who was still holding her hand, squeezed gently. "Don't worry." His gaze was the warmest honey. "You fit right in."

She knew he was rich, but she couldn't comprehend just how different their societies looked.

"My mom would've loved this," Yerim whispered, feeling a jolt of sadness shoot through her heart. "She was always watching these kinds of things on TV."

He smiled. "I'll bring her to one."

Yerim grinned back at him, although it didn't fully reach her eyes. She appreciated Jungkook's heart, but her mom's health was deteriorating too fast; she couldn't even be out of the nursing home for ten minutes.

"I need to bring Irene and Joy here, too. They would have a blast."

Before Jungkook could reply, an older man, with peppered hair and a trimmed goatee, came up to him and gripped his shoulder, proclaiming, "Jungkook! It's been so long. How have you been?"

"Mr. Winston, nice to see you. I've been good." Jungkook turned to Yerim, saying, "Yerim, this is Mr. Winston, Marie's father. Mr. Winston, this is my girlfriend, Yerim."

Yerim looked at Jungkook in surprise, only to see that he had his neutral expression on. The same one he always had on before she got to know him better, the one he showed to everyone in the company.

"Girlfriend?" Mr. Winston stuck out a hand, which Yerim grasped, and gave her a firm shake. "I was not expecting this. So, you and my daughter didn't work out?"

"She hasn't told you?"

Mr. Winston narrowed his eyes. "She did look down, but she never talked about it."

"She's a great person, just not the one for me."

"Have you told your parents?"

His hand tightened. "Not yet."

"They probably won't take this as well as me, right?"

"No, sir."

Mr. Winston looked sympathetic, bordering on pity, as he patted Jungkook's shoulder. "Let me know if you need help." Then, after a quick goodbye, he left.

Yerim glanced at Jungkook, who still had that neutral expression, but his hands were bands of steel, and the mood was suddenly sour. "Marie's father seems chill."

Jungkook shrugged, the movement stiff and awkward. "He is, but he's also useless, always my parent's pet."

Taken back by his harsh words, she thought back to what Jean said earlier.

"Should I lay it on your parents? Like I did to you?"

He glanced at her. "What?"

"Remember when I ripped you apart in that car." She smiled. "I'm good at stuff like that. I guess I don't really know them, but you can just write down a script. I'll think about my hatred for you as I act it out."

He blinked and then laughed, sounding like the more recent him. "That would be delightful to see." Then, he sighed, the weight of the whole world in that exhale. "As much as I would like to witness another one of your great speeches, it would be a horrible idea."

Yerim mirrored his sigh. "There goes the fun."

He paused, scanning the room, and then smirked. "We can still have fun."

She glanced at how formal everyone acted. "How?"

"I used to play this game by myself when I was bored at mandatory events. Be a momentary asshole and make fun of everything around you." He pointed his chin to a man with bangs that seemed to have a life of itself, protruding from his forehead in a big poof. "See that guy? For such a fancy event, he looks like he's dressed up to be a clown for someone's birthday."

Yerim squinted her eyes. "I see that. I swear to god, he's going to be honking his nose when the bride walks down the aisle."

Jungkook cracked up.

A huge grin spread across Yerim's face. "What about these decorations? Do they think they're royalty?"

...

Because of Jungkook's game, time flew by in a blink of an eye.

They went from making fun of the outfits that some people choose to wear to the way some people stood with their feet pointed in opposite ways, slapping the tile as they walked, looking like ducks. If anyone else had heard, Yerim and Jungkook would've been labeled as assholes, but in between them, it was a little secret. A little game that lightened their mood.

It was going great, both of them dissolving into giggles and laughter every other minute, faces flushed and eyes crinkling into mere lines, when the world's greatest party poopers pulled up to their little party.

His parents.

Yerim was fully expecting icy expressions, cold shoulders, and judgey glances, behaviors straight out of movies and shows. However, besides their tall, regal postures and strung, tight attitudes, they were normal with polite smiles and handshakes. She also discreetly noticed that they didn't have the same heron ring as Jungkook, something she was surprised about because she thought it was a family ring.

Jungkook, on the other hand, though, was so tense, if Yerim brought a knife down, it would shatter his body straight into halves.

"Mother, Father, this is Yerim, my girlfriend."

The mood immediately dipped.

Their expressions still didn't change, but Yerim could tell that their smiles were more forced than a second ago, the wrinkles on their faces even tighter.

"Girlfriend?" His mother inspected Yerim like she was a broken statue. "What does she do?"

Yerim didn't appreciate them asking Jungkook, but she kept her mouth shut. If she could bottle in her past hatred for Jungkook for almost a year, then she could also suppress her annoyance about this. Besides, based on past experience, she didn't think people looked kindly upon the fact that words would just spill out from her mouth.

"She's an architect, works directly under me."

One of his mother's pencil thin eyebrows rose. "I've never heard of her."

"What about Marie?" His father narrowed his eyes. "You two have marriage expectations."

"I've talked to her already. We both agreed this would be the best for the both of us. I don't love her like that."

His mother sniffed. "Love?"

Jungkook rigidly nodded.

"I didn't love your father in the beginning, but now look at us."

In her head, Yerim was bashing their skulls with a vase. The fact that they still had such conservative thoughts in this century and decade seemed so backwards. If a glimpse into this conversation revealed just how stifling they were, she couldn't imagine how Jungkook survived with probably no freedom his whole life. How did you navigate yourself when you had no chance to drive the car? Suddenly, she felt like an outsider, observing Jungkook through different eyes.

"I don't foresee myself ever loving her in that way."

His father gave Yerim a quick glance. "And you feel that towards her?"

Instead of answering, Jungkook tugged Yerim forward a step. "Mom, Dad, the least you can do is say 'hi' and pretend you like her."

His mom's sharp gaze landed on her, a colder version of Jungkook's intense gaze, before she nodded, stiffly. "I hope you know that we don't have any ill will towards you. It's my son's future that we're concerned with."

Honestly, Yerim shouldn't have cared about that sentence, but for some reason, she did. Even if they were only pretending to date, the fact that his mother basically insinuated she wasn't good enough rubbed the wrong way. Her smile was tight. "I understand." If Jungkook's grip on her hand was tight a few moments ago, her grip was unbreakable.

"The future is coming faster than you think," his mom continued. "He doesn't have time to waste with the future of the company in his hands."

Translation: "you need to leave as soon as possible."

Yerim itched to do something, her finger literally twitched. She had never liked being criticized, especially not from a stranger, much less her fake-boyfriend's mom. And if there was anything in this world she hated the most, it would be disappointment, stranger or not.

"Mom," Jungkook cut in, tone sharp.

His mom merely lifted a perfect eyebrow.

"We can talk later."

Then, before his parents could reply, he walked away, dragging Yerim along with him. They didn't stop until they were almost a good mile away from the two devils.

Ducking behind a thick column, separated for an instance from the noise and formalities, Yerim finally exhaled, letting all the tension leave her body. He turned to face her.

"Hey, you okay?" His voice was soft again. "Sorry for all of that. I should've warned you."

"I'm good."

"Thank you for dealing with my parents. I thought Jean's warning would be enough for you to prepare yourself."

She shook her head. "I'm fine, just a bit taken aback."

He nodded. "Understandable."

Yerim studied his face. He wasn't smiling, wasn't looking into her eyes, and wasn't standing straight. At this moment, the confident-Jungkook who led and instructed was gone, replaced by a smaller version of him.

For some reason, she didn't like that one bit.

"At least I know where you learned to be an asshole," she said, voice light.

Jungkook blinked before grinning. "I like to think I'm better now because of a certain person."

She snorted, pushing his shoulder. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

Laughing, he looped an arm across her shoulder and pulled her close to his side. "Want to get out of here? I thought it would be a good idea to stand up in front of my parents, but in hindsight, it's a horrible idea."

"You think?"

"We can get some ice cream. I know a place that serves the creamiest ice cream ever."

Yerim scowled. "With you?"

"We'll work on your portfolio for an extra two hours."

Her lips involuntarily curved up at the corners. "Okay-" She gave him the stink eyes. "-but only because of that."

Jungkook smiled, brilliant and enormous. "That's good enough for me."