After surviving the painfully awkward, borderline pathetic dinner party with Marblewell and Dreamberry, I was ready to collapse. I mean, if I wanted to suffer through half-baked mocktails, loud girls, and sweaty handshakes from goth kids, I could've just joined a circus.

But no, we ended up on our floor again, dumped in the common hall like sleep-deprived zombies.

It was 2:15 in the goddamn morning.

I was mentally hugging my bed when one of the girls squealed, "Isn't it our turn now?!"

I wanted to cry. I really did.

"What turn?" I muttered under my breath. "To burn in hell?"

But they ignored me. Of course they did.

A mini-conference happened between the chaos gremlins, and before I could even prepare for impact, Emily shrieked like a banshee, "We dare you to let your partners wax your legs!"

Silence. Heavy, judgmental silence.

I blinked.

"Come again?" I asked, deadpan. "Why is this even legal?" I muttered, shooting a glare at Taehyung who, by the way, was already mentally calculating how fast he could run from this room.

"No. No one's waxing anything," I said firmly. "This isn't a dare, this is abuse."

But they were already giggling like lunatics, the girls clapping and the boys groaning. My personal nightmare was being turned into a carnival event.

"I'd rather eat hot sauce and die on a toilet seat," Nina hissed under her breath.

I almost snorted. She said it like she meant it. And judging by the horror on her face, she'd honestly take the chili death sentence over this.

"I'm not waxing shit," I stated to no one in particular, already halfway to throwing someone out the window.

"Jungkook, it's just a dare," someone laughed.

Yeah? So is Russian roulette, and I'm not signing up for that either.

Nina's Pov

I couldn't wait to see Jeon Jungkook suffer.

The image in my head was glorious—him writhing on the floor, face scrunched in agony, probably cursing the day he ever dared to mess with me. Sweet, sweet karma, scented with hot wax and humiliation.

We all gathered in the common room, the poor guys lined up like lambs for slaughter. Emily, of course, wanted to go first—it was her twisted idea after all. Elijah? The guy looked like he was about to pass out from sheer anxiety.

"You can do it, Elijah, you can do it," he muttered to himself like a broken toy.

Someone should really tell him it's useless. But not me. I was too entertained.

"Emily... spare me, please," he pleaded, palms rubbing like he was summoning divine mercy. And then—rip. The strip came off, and Elijah let out a noise that sounded like a dying goat. He rolled over the floor in dramatic agony while the rest of us tried not to choke on our laughter.

"Maybe we should just do one strip instead of two?" I offered, half out of pity, half because Elijah was now banging his fists on the floor like he was being exorcised.

Behind me, I heard Jungkook sigh. A deep, weary sigh.

"Oh, come on, Nina," Mona scoffed. "They deserve this. Remember when they made us wear shorts?"

Her glare stabbed directly at Taehyung, who was now mumbling silent prayers to whatever god handled leg hair trauma.

And she was right. I'd nearly forgotten those stupid dares they threw at us like we were their puppets. This was revenge. Justice. And Jungkook? That boy deserved more than two strips—he needed to be mummified.

"Your turn, Jeon," I grinned wickedly, kneeling in front of him like a true villainess claiming her victim.

He shifted uncomfortably in the bean bag, muttering something under his breath before pushing his sweatpants up to the knees. His skin was bone-dry—perfect. No cream. No prep. Maximum pain.

"All the best, my brotha," Elijah moaned from the floor.

I slapped the wax strip onto Jungkook's shin with a smile that could scare Satan.

He winced. "Wait—"

RIP.

He gasped, a sharp intake of breath followed by a string of hushed curses. Before he could recover, I grabbed his other leg.

"No," he groaned, catching my wrists.

"Yes," I giggled like a psycho.

"I didn't even annoy you for the last ten minutes. Why are you doing this?" he whined, already bracing for death.

"Okay, okay," I whispered close to his ear. "I'll pull it in reverse. It won't hurt."

It was a lie. An absolute lie. But I whispered it sweet enough to make him nod.

"Just scream for drama, yeah?" I added.

He gave a tired nod of surrender.

Second strip down.

RIP.

"SHIT, NINA!" he roared, flailing like I'd set him on fire.

I doubled over laughing. It was glorious.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU—AW, SHIT—I HATE YOU!"

"You'll thank me when you feel how smooth your legs are," I smirked.

Jungkook growled something unintelligible, but I didn't care. Victory had never smelled this sweet—or sounded this painful.

......

After successfully tormenting Jungkook and basking in his misery, I waited for the rest of the girls to finish up. Once the boys were sufficiently traumatized and hairless, we moved on to packing for tomorrow's mountain climb.

"You carry the tent, blankets, mats, and first aid kit. I'll carry our clothes," I chirped, heading to my suitcase like a princess assigning chores to her minion.

"And why the fuck is that?" Jungkook snapped, glaring at me like I'd just asked him to carry me up the mountain too.

"Principal Kim said so," I replied with a radiant, fake-ass smile. "Boys carry the heavy stuff. Girls carry the lighter stuff. Patriarchy benefits, baby."

He muttered something in demonic tongues under his breath, but I was too busy folding socks to care.

Next day at 12:00 PM

"Our teachers already started heading up the mountain," Emily muttered, betrayal clear in her voice as we all sat around the common room like abandoned puppies.

Seriously? The mountain might be right behind the resort, but weren't they supposed to, I don't know... guide us? Maybe drop a text? A scroll? A smoke signal?

"Look, guys! Bitches from Panther and Autumn High got ditched by their teachers!" Jason yelled while passing our door with his gang of testosterone-filled circus clowns.

Shut up, bro. Literally no one asked.

"Let's go. I know the direction," Elijah announced, sounding way too confident for someone who once got lost in a school corridor.

And so, the misfit squad began our "adventure."

Before the climb, the resort manager decided to gift us anxiety: snakes, wild animals, four-hour hike—good luck, kids!

Ten minutes in, and we were already collapsing like dying gladiators. We took breaks every ten minutes. And not like cute, Instagram-hiker breaks—no. We were panting, sweating, groaning, and ready to sell our souls for air. My legs? Gone. My spirit? Dead. My patience? Nonexistent.

This wasn't camping. This was slow, scenic torture.

"Okay, since we're just gonna sit here for a while," Harry puffed, wiping sweat from his brow like a dramatic auntie in distress, "why not give you girls a dare?"

"Is that really necessary right now?" one of the girls snapped, glaring daggers. I mean, come on—we're exhausted. It's been an hour, and we're not even halfway up this oversized hill from hell.

"Yup, it is," Taehyung deadpanned, the sarcasm practically dripping off him. Oh, he's definitely still bitter.

"So the dare is... each of us gives a different dare to our partners," Elijah declared between wheezes.

"Now come on, Emily... pick my bag too." He flung his mammoth backpack at her foot while she looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

I quietly watched the chaos unfold. One by one, the boys passed out their dares like little devils. And I? I was just praying to every divine being that my evil spawn of a partner would trip on a rock and forget about me.

No such luck.

"Well, Ms. Nina Sam," Jungkook drawled as he stepped forward, way too smug, "I dare you to wear these until we reach the top."

In his hand? A pair of pointed heels. Freaking heels.

Oh hell no.

The rocks are massive, it's slippery, I can barely walk in these on a flat floor—forget this death trap of a mountain. I turned without a word and resumed climbing.

Or tried to—until he yanked me and my bag back so suddenly I nearly slipped off the damn trail.

He caught my hand before I could fall. Eyes locked. His grip tight.

"I would've let it go," he murmured low, barely audible, "if you'd just done what I told you yesterday. But no—you had to be a pain in the ass."

His eyes didn't move. His voice didn't waver. And suddenly, the air between us felt heavier than my entire bag.

Because I knew that tone. That smug, quiet wrath wrapped in sweet, sweet revenge.

Jeon Jungkook was about to make my life hell.

And I might've deserved it.

A little.

Our noses would've touched if he leaned in a bit more. Without warning, he grabbed my collar, pulled me down onto a massive rock, yanked off my sneakers, and shoved those torturous heels onto my feet like I was Cinderella's evil twin. Then—just to cement his evil—he stuffed my shoes into his backpack.

I stood. Took one step. And immediately began drafting my will in my head.

He stayed right behind me, probably ready to tattle if I tried to ditch the damn heels. It's been another hour, and I swear my soul's peeling off through the soles of my feet.

"Aw, poor Nina..." Elijah's voice snapped me out of my misery. "Sorry Jungkook, but I can't watch her like this." He took my backpack and threw it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

"I could carry you too, but rules are rules, honey," he added, pulling a sad puppy face.

"Aww, it's okay, I'll manage," I lied through my teeth with a smile. Elijah, you're an angel. Jungkook, you're Satan's favorite intern.

By 4 p.m., the sun was melting into the horizon, and the warm breeze had started to bite. We all sat on a wide clearing with nothing but sun-bleached rocks around us. The forest was off-limits for resting—snakes, bugs, wild animals, you name it. We ate our pathetic sandwiches, shared some water, and waited.

Everyone else was ahead. Only Jungkook and I lagged behind. Of course.

I was dragging myself up the path like a zombie. And to my surprise, he stayed close. Not taunting, not rushing, just... there.

"Jungkook," I groaned, panting. "I'm tired..."

"I don't care," he said, arms folded, muscles flexing like he was posing for a hiking-themed thirst trap.

He was shirtless. Shirtless. Gloriously unaffected by the cold breeze. Meanwhile, I looked like a dying alpaca in layers of regret.

"I'm removing them," I snapped. That's it. No more heels. No more pride.

"No, you're not." His hand caught my wrist.

I yanked away. He reached again, but before he could grab me, my foot slipped. I lost my balance and crashed onto my butt, hard. Sharp pain exploded in my ankle, and I gasped.

"Oh god..." My voice shook. "I think... I twisted it..."

Jungkook just stared. Not blinking. Not moving.

"I can't move my leg," I croaked. Panic started crawling up my throat.

"Calm down," he said quietly.

"How the hell am I supposed to—"

"Shut up, Nina," he cut in sharply. "I'll help you. But calm the fuck down."

I shut up. Tears streamed down without warning. My whole body was trembling—panic, pain, everything was a blur.

"This might hurt a little," he whispered, kneeling down. He took my hands and placed them on his shoulders.

Then, without mercy, he lifted my leg—and I screamed.

"Hey..." he murmured, his voice suddenly softer. His fingers stroked my leg gently, like he was afraid to break me more.

He looked... stunned. Maybe even scared, watching me fall apart like that.

"You said it'd hurt a little..." I hiccupped between sobs and weakly punched his chest. "It's throbbing..."

Twenty miserable minutes later, I finally stopped crying. He stood, slung his backpack on, and faced me.

I blinked. He couldn't be serious.

"You're not... expecting me to walk, right?"

No answer.

He made me stand on one leg, crouched down, and lifted me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. What the hell is this—Beauty and the Beast: Hiking Edition?

"Can't we just call our teachers?" I whispered.

"We don't have phones."

"Why don't you—go up and ask Eli—"

"Shut up." His voice cracked like thunder. And I went dead silent. I was trying to help, okay?

He walked steadily, no signs of slowing. The ground grew more forest than stone now—less rock, more tree roots, thick shadows wrapping around us like a blanket.

And just like that, we were alone. In the woods. Me in his arms. Him not looking at me. My ankle burning. My heart?

Thudding. Loud enough I wondered if he could hear it too.

"Should we take a break?" His glare cut through the thickening dusk.

"Stop doing that," I snapped, shifting awkwardly in his arms. "I'm not walking, so technically, I'm helping." A sudden bounce made me yelp—he adjusted me like a fragile package. He might not show it, but I know he's exhausted. He's human, after all.

My eyes drifted over the view from the mountain top, but then they landed on the angry red scars bruising both his shoulders. That had to be from when I clenched them tight, trying to yank my leg free earlier.

"I... I'm sorry," I whispered, voice shaky. He paused, eyes narrowing.

"What are you? A buffalo? Don't you feel pain?" I snapped back. "I literally wounded my own shoulders carrying your lazy ass." His glare deepened, as if silently saying, Yeah, and all you do is yell in my face.

I bit my lip, holding back more snark. I wasn't about to get tossed off this rock.

"Sorry. I'll shut up now," I muttered. His smirk grew—asshole.

Minutes passed before we finally halted for water, which quickly turned into an early dinner break. He pulled chips and cupcakes from his bag; we ate silently, hunger outweighing exhaustion.

We sat side by side, watching the peaceful town below bathed in golden light, when footsteps echoed behind us—many sets, heavy with groans and huffs.

Students from Dreamberry appeared, climbing steadily. One of their teachers called out, genuinely concerned—at least someone cared. Jungkook strode over, talking to her, nodding toward me the whole time. I held my breath, hoping he wasn't blaming me for everything.

Behind her, tired kids trailed—five girls, five boys. One boy waved; I forced an awkward smile back.

A girl separated from the group and jogged over, wiping sweat from her brow. "Can I?" she asked softly, gesturing toward my injured ankle.

I nodded. She pressed her thumb gently on swollen spots, careful not to make me wince too hard. Jungkook's sharp warning cut through the quiet as she pulled out a spray and misted my leg. Almost instantly, the pain dulled, replaced by a cooling relief.

I pulled her into a fierce hug, gratitude spilling out. She giggled, a lightness in her eyes.

Darkness was settling quickly, so we joined the group. Jungkook carried me all the way back, silent but steady.

Back at camp, our teachers unleashed a torrent of scolding. We didn't bother responding—principals were coming soon, and they actually mattered.

Our friends had waited hours, blocked by the clueless teachers, who lounged by a bonfire, sipping Soju and munching snacks like they were on vacation.

I bounced up, gathering branches like an overexcited kid. "Let's make our own bonfire," I declared. The others watched like I'd lost my mind.

"Get your ass here," Jungkook growled, patting the spot beside him.

"No thanks. I'm not wasting my time whining," I shot back, grinning. "Let's enjoy this."

Reluctantly, they joined, though with less enthusiasm and zero hopping.

Out of nowhere, Elijah scooped me up like a toddler and plopped me back on the same rock. "I'm tired just watching you," he sighed, shaking his head.

I pouted, watching the boys tease and bump into each other, laughing while gathering branches.

Looking around, I noticed twenty tents already pitched, three bonfires glowing, and one more being built—our spot.

Across from us were Marblewell and Dreamberry camps, kids already eating. Soon, we'd have to divide chores—washing dishes, collecting firewood, managing food.

Suddenly, Taehyung and Elijah jogged over. Elijah looped my arm over his shoulder and held my waist steady while Mona handed me a lighter. I grinned and touched the flame to dry leaves. The fire caught immediately, tongues of orange leaping up. We cheered, the warmth spreading more than just through the night air.

But even amid the laughter and crackling flames, one thought gnawed at me—

Where the hell did Jungkook find those heels?

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