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୨⎯ jia ⎯୧

we sit there for a while, and neither of us moves, neither of us breaks the silence.

then, he shifts and checks the time.

then, without looking at me, he says, "we should get ready for the next game."

just like that, the moment is over.

i exhale, setting my drink down as i push my chair back slightly. "right. back to business."

he stands first, straightening his coat, his mask as unreadable as ever.

but as i rise, i swear i feel his gaze flicker toward me - just for a second, just long enough for something unspoken to settle between us.

then, just like always, he turns away, walking ahead as if none of this - none of us - ever happened.

୨⎯ frontman | in-ho ⎯୧

i walk away. because i have to.

because if i stay any longer, if i let this game between us stretch even a second further, i might forget what the rules are.

she is tempting me.

not in the way the vips tempt each other with power, money, control. no, she's something else entirely. something i didn't expect. something that lingers even when she's no longer in front of me.

the moment i step inside my room, i shut the door behind me, locking out the rest of the world.

my hands lift to my face, and in one movement, i remove my mask. for the first time in a long time, i let out a breath i didn't even realize i was holding. i set the mask down on the table, staring at it for a moment.

i should not get distracted by her ... but i am.

the clock hits 7 pm.

i roll my shoulders back, forcing myself to think about something different as i make my way toward the viewing room.

i step into the room and the butlers are already there, waiting to serve.

as i pass by one of them, i pause just slightly.

"for the tiger," i say under my breath, barely loud enough for him to hear, "bring her something with cherry."

''of course, sir.'' he says to me.

earlier, she ordered a cherry mojito. if she ordered it once, she definitely likes the flavor.

it's not a big gesture. it's nothing that should mean anything.

the vips enter one by one. murmured conversations, the clinking of glasses, the usual energy settling into the room.

and then she walks in. yesterday, she was the first. today, the last.

is this intentional? a manipulative move? or just coincidence? it doesn't matter. because the moment she steps inside, i notice something else entirely.

she changed her outfit. she is no longer wearing that blue dress from earlier - the one that looked way too good, the one that made her stand out more than she probably intended.

instead, she's wearing a grey blazer and trousers, tailored perfectly. something a lawyer would wear.

and yet she still looks too good. it's infuriating.
because no matter what she wears - whether she wears a dress that makes her look untouchable or a suit that makes her look dangerous - i'll look at her.