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[Pied piper ] - [BTS]

The next day began, and it was peaceful—too peaceful. Yejin sipped on her coffee, her eyes darting around the quiet house as if waiting for the inevitable chaos to strike. Yeji, wandered into the dining room and paused, surprised by the spread of food laid out on the table.

"Oh, Mom, what's the occasion?" she asked, a curious smile tugging at her lips.

Her mother glanced up from arranging a platter and offered a cryptic grin. "Enjoy this food, sweetie. You never know what's going to happen."

Sohee reached for a piece of bread, but Yejin swatted his hand away with a playful glare.

"Ya! Aunt, let me take a bite. I miss Mom's cooking."

Yejin smirked mischievously, sliding the bread just out of his reach, her chuckle almost devilish. The sight of her enjoying his torment made Sohee narrow his eyes. Sensing further teasing on the horizon, he grabbed Yeji's arm and dragged her aside.

"Yeji, your mom has gone crazy."

"Hasn't she always been?"

"No, I mean it. She's definitely planning something," Sohee muttered, glancing warily toward the dining table.

As if on cue, the faint wail of police sirens pierced through the peaceful morning. The sound grew louder, and both their heads snapped toward the window. Sohee's stomach dropped.

He rushed out of the house, his steps quickening as he neared his mom's restaurant. A small crowd had gathered, and at the center stood police officers, their presence unsettling.

"Miss, we're closing it down," one officer announced firmly. "A customer of yours was poisoned."

Miseok stood frozen, her face drained of color. Her husband, however, quickly snapped into action, his voice trembling as he turned to Sohee.

"Call your sister. Now."

Inside the house, Yejin moved like she owned the place, her golden bracelets chiming with every exaggerated motion as she spun around to the upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Her laughter filled the room as she twirled on her toes, hands in the air, claiming her imaginary throne.

"This street is mine!" she declared, her voice a mix of pride and mischief.

Yeji groaned, her hand pressed firmly against her forehead as if physically trying to contain her frustration. Her aunt stood nearby, frozen in a mix of confusion and cautious curiosity, watching Yejin's spectacle unfold like a one-woman show.

"Yejin," her sister said, stepping closer, her voice sharp, "you better not have done anything."

Yejin froze mid-twirl, flipping her bangs with a theatrical flourish, the gold of her bracelets catching the light as they jangled. Her eyes sparkled with faux innocence, her lips curling into a confident smile.

"Why would I bother with that woman?" she replied, her tone honeyed, the picture of false sincerity.

But beneath the confident facade, Yejin's mind raced with memories of what she had done. The truth was hidden behind her smirk, tucked neatly away where no one could see it—not even her nosy sister.

Just days earlier, in the shadow of an alley behind the bustling street, Yejin had stood face-to-face with a man who reeked of desperation. In her hands was a pot, its contents steaming ominously and emitting a smell that even she found hard to stomach.

The man hesitated, his wary eyes darting between Yejin and the pot. "Have you tried her food?"  asked Yejin.

"Oh, I have, If you want, I can go back and try it again five times—just to be sure."

" I don't want you eating her food again," she continued, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "I have something much more... memorable for you to try."

With a flourish, Yejin lifted the lid off the pot, revealing the contents—a grotesque attempt at pasta. The noodles were clumped together, drenched in a sauce so thick and lumpy it looked more like a science experiment than a meal. The man visibly recoiled, his nose wrinkling at the sight and smell.

"Mrs. Park," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "The police will find out I'm lying, they'll run tests. They'll know."

Yejin chuckled softly, shaking her head as if he had told a delightful joke. "Oh, darling, you underestimate me. I've perfected this little potion. Not even the best doctors in the country could figure out what's in it. It's untraceable."

She leaned in closer, her bracelets jingling like a sinister promise, and pressed the pot into his hands. "All you have to do is make sure you eat it. The rest is on me."

The man hesitated, glancing at the cash in her hand, and sighed. Greed outweighed his reservations. "Fine," he muttered, his fingers tightening around the pot. "But this better not come back on me."

"It won't," Yejin said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Now go make her restaurant the talk of the town."

Back in the present, chaos brewed at the restaurant. Sohee paced back and forth, frustration etched on his face as he tried and failed to call his sister. "Why isn't she answering? She always picks up," he muttered under his breath, his phone pressed tightly against his ear.

Their mother, who had been frozen in a state of panic moments before, suddenly snapped out of it. Her expression hardened, her voice sharp and commanding as she said, "Give me that phone."

Sohee reluctantly handed it over, but even his mother's attempts to call Iseul were in vain. The line rang endlessly with no answer. Determined, she scrolled through her contacts and called Chaeryoung instead.

Of course, Chaeryoung wouldn't betray Iseul. Her cheerful tone barely masked her loyalty as she said, "Oh, Mrs. Park! Iseul? She's, uh, taking a shower. Don't worry, I'll check on her and get back to you."

Meanwhile, across town, Iseul stirred awake. Grogginess clouded her mind as her surroundings slowly came into focus. Her head throbbed slightly from the aftermath of the night before, and as she blinked away the haze, her eyes widened in realization.

She looked down quickly, relief washing over her when she saw she was still fully clothed. Hesitantly, her hand drifted to the other side of the bed. The sheets were cool and empty. No one had been there.

A small breath escaped her lips as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. The faint aroma of food wafted through the air, drawing her attention to the sound of soft clattering from the kitchen.

Curious and cautious, Iseul padded toward the sound.

Her steps faltered as she peeked into the kitchen and saw Sunghoon standing by the stove, his back turned to her. The scene felt surreal—him, wearing a plain white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his lean arms, moving with practiced ease as he stirred something in a pan.

For a moment, she froze in the doorway, caught off guard by the quiet domesticity of the moment. The sunlight streaming in from the windows highlighted the sharp lines of his figure, and her eyes trailed over his broad shoulders, tapering to his narrow waist.

She quickly shook herself out of her trance, cheeks warming as she scolded herself internally.

"Stop staring," she muttered under her breath, finally stepping into the kitchen.

Sunghoon turned slightly, catching her presence out of the corner of his eye. Without looking fully at her, he said, "You're awake. Sit down. Breakfast is almost ready."

Iseul sat at the kitchen table, the smell of warm toast and scrambled eggs filling the air, but her appetite was nowhere to be found. She poked at the food halfheartedly before finally speaking, her voice small, uncertain.

"I'm sorry I took your bed. I did, didn't I?"

Her eyes flickered up at Sunghoon, hesitant and searching. He leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, his dark hair still slightly tousled from the morning.

A scoff escaped his lips, the corner of his mouth lifting in that familiar way that always made her want to throw something at him. "Iseul, I wouldn't even want to lie next to you in a grave, let alone my bed."

She rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck. "Wow. And here I thought chivalry wasn't dead," she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Besides," She continued, ignoring his jab, "I don't even remember anything from last night."

"Oh, I remember very well," he shot back, her tone sharp and biting. He jabbed his fork in her direction like it was a weapon. "I remember how you had to grace me with your presence while I carried me from the car. Traumatized you, did I?"

"I don't remember asking you to carry me to your home, I didn't did I?"

Sunghoon exhaled, shaking his head like she was the most ridiculous person alive. " Instead of thanking me, you're here, giving me an earful. What did you want me to do? Take you home and knock on Aunt Miseok's door like, 'Hey, your daughter's drunk. Thought I'd drop her off!'"

Her face flushed instantly at the thought. She waved her hand quickly to cut him off, practically choking on her embarrassment. "Okay, okay, I get it! Shut up!"

He shook his head again, lips twitching like he was trying to suppress a smirk. He took a long sip of his coffee, savoring her flustered state before muttering under his breath, "That's what I thought."

Iseul rolled her eyes, her frustration bubbling as she stood, pacing the small kitchen while waiting for her phone to turn on. Anxiety gnawed at her—she could already imagine the storm brewing on her mother's end. The thought made her stomach churn.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the kind that made her hyper-aware of everything: the hum of the refrigerator, the distant chirp of birds outside, and the awkward tension hanging between her and Sunghoon.

Then, the shrill sound of a phone ringing shattered the stillness.

Sunghoon glanced at the screen of his phone, raising a brow before picking it up. Without a word, he held it out to her, his expression unreadable. "It's Chae," he said simply.

Iseul groaned under her breath but snatched the phone from his hand. "Thanks," she muttered, pressing it to her ear.

Before she could even form a greeting, Chaeryoung's voice exploded through the receiver, loud and relentless.

"Girl, did you spend the night at Sunghoon's? What did you two do?! And how and why?! You better start explaining!"

Iseul winced, holding the phone slightly away from her ear. "Chaeryoung, relax! I'll tell you everything later, just...not now, okay?"

"Whatever. Just so you know, your mom called me earlier. I told her you were in the shower at my place. You're welcome, by the way. But you need to call her, like, right now. She's freaking out."

"Okay, okay, got it. Thanks, Chae. I owe you."

Iseul hung up so quickly it was as if the phone burned her hand. She bolted to her own phone, relief flooding her when it finally powered on. "Finally," she muttered, frantically scrolling for her mom's contact.

Sunghoon, seated at his desk and typing away on his laptop, couldn't hold back his curiosity. Without looking up from his screen, he asked, "What happened?"

"Mom called Chae," Iseul began, still tapping at her phone, her tone laced with both gratitude and urgency. "And Chae saved my ass big time. Now I have to pretend like I'm at her place."

Sunghoon paused, his fingers hovering over his keyboard as he turned his attention to her. His brows furrowed in exaggerated disbelief. "Even the devil would think twice about crossing you," he said, his voice dripping with dry humor.

Iseul shot him a pointed look while waiting for her mom to pick up. She put a finger to her lips in a sharp shh! gesture, signaling for him to zip it.

Sunghoon raised his hands in mock surrender, leaning back in his chair with a smirk tugging at his lips.

Finally, her mother picked up, her voice sharp and laced with concern. Iseul froze for a moment before launching into the most unconvincing cheerfulness she could muster.

"Hi, Mom! I'm great—so, so great. How are you?" She cringed internally.

Her mother's tone shifted, asking pointedly about the previous night. Iseul's gaze darted around the room until it landed on a fake plant in the corner. Desperation bred creativity. She strode to the plant, held her phone close to the leaves, and began shaking them vigorously.

"Hello? Mom? I can't hear you!" Her voice crackled in mock static, perfectly matching the rustling of the leaves. Without waiting for a response, she ended the call and exhaled deeply.

Turning back, she found Sunghoon leaning against his desk, watching her with an incredulous expression. His brow was raised, and his jaw slightly open.

"What?" she said, forcing a tight smile. "You know I can't lie to my mom. I'd feel bad."

"How lucky your mom is," Sunghoon deadpanned, his lips curling into a smirk, "yet you lie to me without hesitation."

Iseul ignored him and instead focused on her phone, relieved to see it finally powered on. Yet, she could feel his gaze lingering.

"What now?" she muttered, looking up from the screen.

Sunghoon chuckled, leaning back in his chair as if to savor the moment. "Where do I even start? Oh, how about the red dress you wore to dinner that night? You told me it wasn't on purpose."

Rolling her eyes, Iseul leaned forward, placing her hands on his table. "You lied to me too. You say you're not jealous, but that's a lie."

Sunghoon scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh, so you admit the dress was on purpose?"

Iseul smirked, leaning in closer. "So you admit you're jealous?"

His gaze faltered as he cleared his throat, suddenly looking anywhere but at her. "There's no such thing, darling."

Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and they both turned to see Changbin standing awkwardly in the doorway. His expression was a mix of confusion and discomfort, his eyes darting between them.

"Uh..." Changbin hesitated, stepping back cautiously. "I think I interrupted something. I'll... just go." He disappeared just as quickly as he'd come, the door clicking shut behind him.

Iseul froze, her breath hitching as the weight of her own panic pressed against her chest. She could feel her heart racing, the rapid beat echoing in her ears as she turned to Sunghoon, who stood across from her with an infuriatingly calm demeanor.

"Go after him," she hissed, her voice trembling with desperation. "What if he tells everyone? Oh my God, I'm done for. My mom's going to kill me, and then—"

Sunghoon's sharp voice cut through her frantic words like a blade. "Iseul, stop." His tone was quiet, measured, but it carried enough authority to bring her spiraling thoughts to an abrupt halt. "Changbin knows everything. He's my friend."

The panic in her chest loosened its grip, replaced by a flicker of confusion and something else—something closer to mischief. Her lips twitched into a smirk, and she tilted her head, looking at him through her lashes.

"Oh?" she said slowly, dragging out the word. "So you're telling your friends about me now? That's adorable, Sunghoon."

His face darkened, frustration flickering in his eyes like a storm barely contained. He exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers brushing back the strands of hair that fell into his face. "Enough," he bit out, his voice low and icy. "You're unbelievable. The more I try to keep you at a distance, the closer you get, like some... like some curse I can't shake."

The venom in his words made her smirk falter, but she masked the sting by brushing a hand through her hair, pretending his rejection hadn't landed so squarely on her chest. "You're being dramatic," she said lightly, though her voice lacked its usual spark.

"I'm being realistic," he shot back, his gaze sharp enough to pin her in place. "I don't want you in my house. I don't want you in my life."

The silence that followed was deafening. Her throat tightened, and for once, her quick tongue failed her. She stood there, arms limp at her sides, feeling something unfamiliar and unwelcome—vulnerability.

Sunghoon, however, didn't linger. He turned away, his voice losing its edge but not its finality as he muttered, "I bought you some clothes. Get changed."

The sound of his retreating footsteps echoed in the quiet room, leaving Iseul alone with the weight of his words. She let out a shaky breath, blinking hard to chase away the sting behind her eyes.

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sunghoon's mom is funny