Skandl! [22]
Title: Skandl! (Chapter 22)
Pairing(s): TaengSic, side!YulTi
Rating/Genre: NC-17; AU Idol Romance
Warning(s): Read with your parents, if they like sex.
Disclaimer: I don't own Soshi. I don't own anyone, in fact. All Fiction.
Author's Notes: EDITING THIS CHAPTER WAS
Twenty-two: Tiffany
--
Fanycakes: Did you see?
Yulbaby: yeah I’m so confused
Fanycakes: Want to run away together?
Yulbaby: ok
For most folks’ standards, a wild path behind a strip of stores may not resemble the most romantic meetup place. Those critics were as narrow-minded as its weedish walkway by the river. Here, where gravel met sand, shrubs rooted in bristly bunches around an old gate, Yuri first kissed Tiffany. Nothing fancy--a firm mesh of Chapstick and confidence. Howbeit, it snatched the chenille rug from under the Lucky Six member’s feet, disrupting a lifelong game of dominance.
And she kissed Yuri back, thankful.
Tiffany Hwang wouldn’t attest to having soundest of judgement. Especially while backed into a corner. Yuri’s bashful grin and musical fingers tickled her soul, establishing stability. Balance. An appreciation for tiny details a woman of big-picture concepts would neglect. So, when a gaggle of tweens made their third date impossible, Yuri’s keen eye tracked the enclave. Almost completely concealed by buildings, a parking lot, and recycling bins.
It’d become their ‘spot’. No roads, residential high rises, streetlamps--separated from modern society.
She swung her flashlight, listening to its batteries clunk a slow rhythm. Flashlights were Tiffany’s idea. That way, they wouldn’t need their phones. Not even for a light source.
Tiffany turned towards a rustle. Flipping a plastic switch, she shined her beam three times--one long, two short. In return, a white ray winked twice. Yuri.
“What’s a tasty delight like yourself doin’ at a joint like this?” the taller woman drawled, black hair twinkling from the moon and river’s reflections.
“Hmph,” Tiffany played along, “waiting for my fiancée.”
“What kind of fiancée lets you walk two feet out of her sight?”
“The late kind.”
“Sorry, babe.” Yuri’s lips found Tiffany’s nose, tacking on a kiss. “Had to bribe Jinho and Nam for the ride. You’re an expensive addiction.”
“Excuse you. I’m an investment.”
“Right, right.”
Silence followed. Tiffany’s smile faded.
Yuri paced to the gate, rattling rusted chains. “There’s a metaphor here. I just know it.”
“On what side of the fence are we?”
“The sexier one.”
Kwon Yuri aced at cheering her up in the worst of times. In the wake of the big reveal that night, any glimmer of optimism would suffice.
“Come here.” Tiffany wiggled tapered fingers outward, twining another set into hers. “You deserve a ring, baby.”
“No. You promised.”
Engagement on ice. “Not even a widdle ring?”
“We promised we’d keep this private. I don’t want some fucking camera crew analyzing my symbol of commitment, thank you very much.”
“You’re so dignified.”
“As you are, m’lady,” she snickered, breathing a new smile onto Tiffany’s lips.
“Even if I’m not always good?”
The air amidst them stilled. Stagnant, cautious. The threats, the pictures, the breach of trust. Yuri knew bits and pieces, but Tiffany warned her of “The Test”. A personal project to challenge Yul’s idealized view of Kim Taeyeon--the same weak-willed individual who gazed indisputable lust into Tiffany’s eyes while they smoked on the roof. The woman who hurled endless obscenities towards Lucky Six. The idol too wrapped up in her victimhood to notice others’ suffering.
“The Test” quickly snowballed into retaliation. Instigated by company pressures and a general lack of faith in Taeyeon’s abilities to protect her Skandl-mates. Specifically Yuri.
“You can’t expect morals from a moralless industry,” Yuri sneered, voice dark. “I’m done.”
Typically, Tiffany would argue until she cried, fingertips slipping from the frays of her fiancée’s patience with the push-and-pull, lies, scandals, invasions of privacy, and cutthroatness that wheted Tiffany’s hunger for power. “You love Skandl.”
“I love Taeyeon. I love Sunny. Skandl isn’t Skandl anymore.”
After cringing through their newest demo, Tiffany had to agree. “If this comeback makes bank, maybe Dong-gun--”
“I don’t negotiate with devils.”
“Yul--” She stalled to seek Yuri’s eyes. “If my ‘Test’ went awry, would that make a difference?”
“Having these questions signifies doubt. If you’re doubting, don’t do it.”
Releasing Taeyeon and Jessica’s photos would be out of pure revenge for her shortcomings. Not Tiffany’s scene. “I didn’t.”
“Great. There’s always a better method.” She brought Tiffany into a gentle hug, pecking warmth into her hair. “I bought the house.”
Tiffany’s eyes rounded. “Today?”
“Signed the deed and shook hands. Not sure when I’ll break it to the girls.”
The woman groaned, dreading the day a Lucky Six girl voluntarily moved out. Or, would she be the first? “Congratulations. You’re an officially old.”
That pushed a giggle out of Yuri. “I made you keys.”
“I’ll cook your first homemade meal.”
“Shit, nooooo,” she whined, “Let’s order out, please!”
“How dare!”
“I can hire a chef. Or Hyo. Is she available?”
Tiffany pinched Yuri on the hip, satisfied by an echoed yelp. “I’ll be the only woman beside you in the kitchen.”
“Damn. Fine.”
“What’s your management going to do?”
Reminder of the current dilemma. Shrugging, Yuri led Tiffany by her jean pockets, leaning them against the gate. “They’ll deny everything, of course. That’s management’s sole purpose--denial.”
“Elite will probably use homophobia to its monetary advantage.”
“Smart move.”
“What happened to your fake boyfriend?”
“I won’t choose. Dong-gun’s pissed about that.”
Tiffany grazed Yuri’s cheek, pensive. “Because of me?”
“Yeah, because of you! I feel like a pawn.”
The chess reference seized her lungs. “You haven’t lost all your control.”
“Control,” Yuri snorted. “It’s all about control. How should I look? How far can I push? Who’ll give me what I want? How to make them listen? You sound like someone.”
“Taeyeon.”
“Nah. Sunny. She’s been in over her head with this new concept. All her hard work, thrown to the wind.”
“I can imagine.”
“Can you?”
She moistened her lips, nodding at the sharp shift in Yuri’s tone. “Control’s important to me.”
“Me, too. I want control over my life. My truth...” A firm grip tightened on the singer’s arm. “Other ways.”
Speaking not a word, they traded electric, mischievous glances.
“Here or in your car, Fany?”
This was what made Tiffany crazy. Beyond a haze of business, expenses, demands, press cons, and flashbulbs waited Kwon Yuri--constantly honest, loyal to a fault. Did she deserve this person?
Yes.
Because Tiffany, though led astray to disputable means, loved her. Yuri outweighed it all in the end.
Pride wouldn’t hamper her from smiling on some dunce man’s arm if it kept the team, her dream alive. K-Pop, for her, was a show. And Tiffany knew how to act.
…
Yuri kissed with her entire body.
Lips, tongue, teeth in addition to palms, thighs, arms, abs--pressing Tiffany into a car door. Tiffany hissed, not begging to slow down. Tonight’s magnifying glass into her life could jump start another hiatus. Evil, boring weeks apart from her happy drug.
“I like this fragrance,” the drug murmured into Tiffany’s neck. “It’s new.”
Perfect, perceptive baby. “Got a care package of free goodies from one of our promo brands. It’s called--” She raised her lady’s face to her own, taken by full eyes and a blushing pout. “Dependence.”
“Mmm,” Yuri purred. “Mom asks about you every day. I swear she loves you more than me and my brother.”
“Jealous?”
She smirked. “Nope. You exceed her ‘future daughter-in-law’ goals. Reckon she has a crush on you, too.”
“Ew!” Tiffany pinched her fiancée again. Yuri had the best skin for it and it turned them both on.
“Kidding. Kinda.”
“Is your family going to move in with you?”
“Hell no,” she remarked, body waving them into a kiss. “My doors are open for one person.”
Guilt trickled into Tiffany’s smile. Could she go on for years, never revealing what she’d said, how she treated Taeyeon? Tiffany was her everything, but friendship held a massive place in Yuri’s heart. As it should. “One day, I’ll tell you what I’ve done. Or, almost did.”
“Steer forward.” Yuri’s eyes were relaxed, yet fiercely aware. “You can’t alter the past. Neither can I. What you can control are your choices.” A soft, sure hand grappled Tiffany’s criss-crossed wrists, pinning them to the car’s roof. “Where did we leave off, talking about control?”
The slight roughness strangled out a moan. “Other ways. You mentioned other ways.”
“Good memory.”
“Back of the seat,” Tiffany rasped, nodding at the appropriate pocket. “In there.”
The woman complied, slacking neither grip nor eye contact as her other hand fished a silk handkerchief from its hiding spot. Sheer and smooth to prevent chafing; strong enough to keep Tiffany tied to the handle above the window. “Snug?”
“When we have a house at our disposal, we’ll get even kinkier.”
“We don’t need a house or rings and a wedding or anyone’s damn approval,” Chills touched Tiffany’s neck. “All we need is this car and each other. I’m content like this.”
She agreed. “I love you, Yul.”
“Love’s the tip of the iceberg,” she murmured, kissing the line of her thin shirt collar.
Tiffany thrusted her chest outward. “Do we have time for teasing?”
“We have all the time necessary. To run away, that is.”
“Yeah.”
They wouldn’t run away. It’d be a crime. Too many obligations, commitments, loved ones. Questions yet to be answered. Possibilities, windows to unworldly fortune.
“I love you, too, by the way.” Yuri never squandered the chance to say so. With her thick voice, raspy in a seductive whisper, weighted in arousal.
“Lower, baby.”
The guitarist moved down to her breasts casually. As if she missed Tiffany’s demand and happened upon the rounded softness. She nuzzled, sighing. A hand accompanied her fondling. One tentative squeeze. Then, rougher tries--caresses that jerked out a satisfying gasp. What Tiffany’d been yearning. It escalated as Yuri’s perfect nose drove into the center of one mound, circling a growing bud beneath fabric.
Her wrists strained into the silk scarf. “Please.”
Yuri kissed Tiffany's temples, lovingly and brutally turned on. "What'd I say earlier?"
"About control?"
"Yes, exactly that."
"Then, teach me, baby," she urged. Yuri drifted a knee between Tiffany's legs as the mouthplay got wetter, more ardent . They didn't have time allotted to jailbirds or runaway teenagers, but she screwed her head back and squirmed in tortuous leisure.
As a tiny reward, her shirt passed over her bust like a breeze. Yuri wrapped it around Tiffany's wrists, extra coverage on its own. Convenient.
"Fany, your body."
She blushed. "You've seen it before."
"It keeps getting better." Her tongue drew long strokes, rounding satin cups. Tasting, lapping, moaning satisfaction while keeping that ever-present Kwon softness. It comforted Tiffany, honestly. Yuri hadn’t put her through real pain. "This blocks my way. It comes off."
"No," Tiffany teased, loving the frustration that followed.
Her eyes twinkled. "I don't care what you say."
The bra unhooked from the back. And Yuri went in for the prize.
"Oh, god." Her fiancée had the hottest tongue imaginable. Hungry, always hungry for her skin.
"Rough?"
"Mmm." She thought a moment as Yuri lifted the bra to join her shirt and scarf on the hanger. "How rough?"
"As rough as you want. That's the only control I'll give you."
"Just make love to me."
"Love can be rough."
"I know."
Yuri nodded. "Okay, but I'll make you suffer." She crawled backwards, shedding herself of a blouse and displaying the smoothest sample of golden skin. Feminine ripples down the center, small breasts pushed up in its bra, S-lines that deserved their own definition.
Tiffany's mouth dried. "What are you doing?"
"Watching you suffer."
"Babe." All that kissing, those licks. She'd been heated from their foreplay and now this? Yuri usually gave in after a few minutes. Maybe this time, she was serious.
"Agonizing, huh?" Yuri dragged fingers into her long hair. It pooled black waves, bursting from a cute little ribbon.
This is why they barely used the scarf. "How is this control?"
"Sometimes, control's about not doing anything."
Tiffany digested those words, though it was clouded by the sheer vision of the other woman undoing her pants buttons. Somewhere in her sage advice was a slight reprimand.
"I'm so horny, too." Yuri circled her own belly button, the way she should have been feeling Tiffany.
She'd been reduced to jealousy over a single body part. "I’ll put you out your misery. Untie me."
A snort. "Nice try."
In seconds, skinny jeans were a mere afterthought on the floor.
Tiffany scanned them for a second. She'd bought that pair weeks ago. They looked amazing on her. Even better off. And with a flick of her head, she got a heart-stopping glimpse between Yuri's legs before she shut them, feigning shyness. Yuri wasn’t coy about sex. This was their comfort zone.
"I could do that for you," she offered, fixated on two sly fingers twiddling the edge of violet panties.
"You're right." Still, Yuri lay unmoving. Except her hand and quaking chest. "I'm punishing us both. Well, kinda. I think I'm on the winning end."
"You're cruel."
"If it drives you mad with want, I'll take the title."
The fingertips disappeared beneath the fabric. Lower, lower until they hit what Tiffany could almost taste. And they shifted ever so slightly. Barely audible. Though, the sharp intake of breath made the connection clear.
"Yul. Oh, god."
"I'm practically melting." Yuri's long neck dropped along with her head against the window. Her hips bucked a couple unexpected times.
Tiffany rubbed her thighs together, needing any semblance of friction. "How long will you torment me?"
"'Til you learn your lesson."
Her eyebrows rose on their own. "Being?"
"Fuck, I'm closer than I thought." The hand let loose, parting delectable sounds into the car. Her other hand cupped her own breast, plucking a nipple from its sturdy lace.
Yuri's moans were constant. She wasn't lying--an orgasm would rip through her in minutes. "Baby, this is mean."
"I like getting off to you in shreds. No-one ever sees you like this. Wrecked and vulnerable. Desperate for the scraps of whatever I throw to you."
Sexy words. She loved those. "I want my tongue on you. In you."
A clear, distinct whimper clicked in the woman's throat. "How badly?"
"I can't think."
"Badly enough to come clean with me?"
"Come clean?" Her eyelids were weights.
“This life’s….changed me.” Yuri's hand slackened. “I’m jaded and cynical about stuff I tolerated not a year ago. Will my feelings for you change, too?”
Tears, not the kind begot of withholding an orgasm, boiled behind Tiffany’s eyes. "I'm sorry, Yul."
"Steer forward, Fany." The guitarist angled, initiating a lazy makeout. Her lips were cool to the touch, begging Tiffany to pull the bottom one between her teeth. To suck at the silken flesh. Mind steady buzzing with what Yuri may or may not know.
"Always forward," she relented.
"Good." In a jolt, fingertips drenched with something that made Tiffany's head spin slicked lines onto her thigh. Down to her knee, then up to the space she’d mashed out of desperation for friction. "Open."
"Yes, take me," she answered, a little puzzled she hadn't already rushed her legs apart on her own. Yuri did have power over her. It made this sexier.
Those tips pushed past the crotch of her underwear, not even discarding her skirt in the haste. Wicked, delicious pressure figure-eighted through her folds and she seeped, gasping for more. "Take me," she reprised.
"Only because I want to."
Suddenly, Tiffany was occupied to the hilt. Tears split waves down her cheeks. She wasn't normally a cryer during sex. Maybe because life after this car date would forever change. Maybe because the world didn't deserve to know the magic that was Yuri and Tiffany's relationship. They wouldn’t appreciate it anyway. YulTi was more than a stupid scandal.
"We're one. Don't you feel it?" Yuri muttered, taking a bite of Tiffany's ear.
"Yes." She murmured against the romantic message, working her hips like a madwoman. Their love elicited the most visceral emotions. The most extreme reactions. Because, essentially, Yuri knew her better than anyone. And she'd be the one human so privileged.
"Faster?"
Not patient for a reply, the ante was upped. Tiffany craned her back, becoming an extension of her lover's arm. Just like she said. No matter how hard, sex couldn’t lose its layers yelling, "affection" rather than "fuck". But, Tiffany yelled it herself. There, in the back seat.
And when the orgasm crested, spilling matter from below and a cry from her chords, Yuri didn’t disengage. Subsequent spasms always slammed harder. Like a train, an anvil, like the heel of a palm against her clit. "I see how Tae looks at you, Fany.”
Not now. Shit, not now.
“Like,” her fiancée went on, “how she watched Jinnie. She hates you.”
“She--”
“I’ll never--” Her fingers roughly pumped, pounding to the inevitable. Or so Tiffany thought.
“Never, never love someone--”
“Please--”
“Nor marry someone like Bae Soojin.”
With an angry, gut-wrenching pull, a startling emptiness extinguished any ounce of pleasure. Tiffany’s eyes bulged, body keening. Recovering from a tone and treatment that crossed the sexy line. That hurt.
What hurt more was the glare Yuri threw at her as she quickly redressed.
“Where are you going?”
“Running away. From you.”
The car door slammed before the words touched Tiffany’s brain. She strained to listen for footsteps, but he couldn’t hear over the drumming in her own head. Had she become Jinnie? Or worse, as Taeyeon and Jessica claimed?
Yuri couldn’t understand. None of them could. In a ruthless, caustic environment, using the tools available guaranteed success. Or, she assumed so until she read that night’s headline.
She was smarter than Jinnie. Less impulsive and privileged. Tiffany thought she’d outdo her. For the sake of protecting what she held precious. Retribution for being overlooked, underappreciated all these years. Because of her loyalty to the company.
Taeyeon lost it all at Elite and gained immeasurable rewards and leadership elsewhere. Not fair. Especially when she relayed her bitchy, mouthy insecurity on her and her girls. Therefore, Tiffany played a role. Dictated mostly-empty threats to crown herself the real boss bitch. Someone not created for the shadows or substitute-type leadership to an incompetent trainee.
But, where was Jinnie now? Scrambling, milking her uncle’s influence and her reputation for a solo deal that’d bomb.
And where was Tiffany?
Half naked. Tightly bound. In the middle of the city. What a shameful way to be discovered.
She cried. Fighting not to entertain Yuri’s marriage comment.
If broken up, everything she did to protect them was for naught.
…
An hour or eternity later, Yuri returned to untie her. Tiffany’s heart skipped a beat, thankful the dependable musician wouldn’t leave her to perish. However, she didn’t speak; eyes lost in a fog. When Tiffany asked if they’d be okay, Yuri shrugged.
A shrug. Yuri shrugged at Jinnie, not her.
Trust had been ruptured. How to mend that was uncertain.
She flexed her wrists, requesting entry from security. He waved back at her as the car passed into Lucky’s property. JiWook and a bodyguard were posted at the entrance.
Chin in the air, exuding false bravado, Tiffany strolled from her car like nothing happened. It was her defense, after all. Not showing her pain. Nor her weakness.
“Miss Hwang, where on earth have you been?”
She smirked, fully cognizant she’d been bawling the whole ride home. “I won’t get pregnant, I swear.”
“Incredible.” JiWook led her and the guard to the elevators, down the hall to the dorm, wasting spit in a stale lecture. Most of it forgettable. Because anxiety--of all those strange eyes absorbing her and Yuri’s pictures--slowly consumed her, booming at peak volume, turning her legs to cement stalks and attention span to dust.
“Do you understand?!”
Tiffany’s id took precedence, for a moment of pure resistance. “That you and Elite are fucking homophobes? Is that it?”
The word belted JiWook. His round face even jerked. “You think explaining away your behavior is fun for me? Think about your groupmates. If you take the fall, so will they.”
“It’s a fucking coffee date! I’m not organizing a child sex ring, fuck!”
“I’m done with this conversation.”
“When I talk back, you are.”
As he grumbled to himself, producing a key from his pocket, the door opened on its own. The three froze. So did the man caught in his escape--a shock of blue hair, dolphin tattoo, patchy beard, plaid knee socks--
Hyoyeon’s boyfriend.
“Who…” JiWook’s Adam’s apple buckled. “Are. You?”
The guy’s eyes hollowed. Down to JiWook, over to Tiffany (she smiled apologetically), up to the meaty guard. “Ah, I’m Donovan.”
“Donovan what?”
“Zhou. Donovan Zhou.”
“Mr. Zhou. You’ll never step foot in this establishment again.”
He hesitated to comply, fidgeting to argue. “I think that’d be up to--”
“Ahn, escort this man.”
The biggest of the four seized Donovan’s arm and yanked with muscled ease. It could have easily ripped from his socket.
“Don’t grab him like that!” Tiffany pushed Ahn, budging none of his solidness and not caring. “He’s welcome here.”
“No he’s not,” JiWook directed them to the elevator. “Make it known for no Donovan Zhou’s to be allowed within 100 feet of the premises.”
Tiffany flipped to her manager. “Why are you so anti-men?”
“I’m pro-Lucky. Anti-trespassing.”
Hyoyeon and Sooyoung scampered from their room the moment JiWook closed the door. They lapsed midstep, faces as pale and ‘oh shit’ as Tiffany’s.
“Couch!” JiWook snap-pointed to the living room. “No arguments. None of you have a place to do so.”
After Miso was closed in Seohyun and Yoona’s room, Hyoyeon ran out of defiant steam, and six members lined into the furniture’s semicircle, their manager regained his bearings to address them. His thick arms folded over his chest; the curved hat bill mimicked his scowl.
Everyone but Tiffany was already dressed in appropriate workout gear. They had practice for Korea’s ‘Girls Only’ summer concert. Three altered routines and a few solo stages excited the group, though that was the last thing on their mind presently. Yoona lipped a “what the fuck” when he turned his back. Tiffany envied her ignorance.
“Lucky Six--” JiWook stated, chest puffed, “is not Skandl.”
That managed to befall silence amongst a group who hadn’t been speaking. Mouths snapped shut, pupils averted, muscles constricted.
Noticing this, his speech progressed. “You’re conducting yourselves like miscreants. What’s with these broken curfews and slips of the mouths? Harbouring men breaks over a dozen rules in itself.” A scoff at Hyoyeon. “Rumors galore of...perverse phases.”
A phase--sure, he totally thought Yuri’s late hour visits were innocent sleepovers. How dare that fucking twat!
Jessica grabbed Tiffany’s hand before she exploded. That docked her. Like in the car. She squeezed the hand with all her strength; Jessica would probably bruise.
“How is Skandl doing, hm?” He bowed an eyebrow. “Not well. You all aren’t clueless; that group is struggling.”
“So what?” Sooyoung barked, “They’re our friends.”
“Your ‘friends’ are bad influences.”
Tiffany gave in just a bit. “Skandl didn’t sneak a goddamned man into our dorm.”
“Nothing from you, Miss Hwang,” JiWook gritted through his teeth, literally wagging a pointer. “You’ve violated your terms. Elite has grounds to terminate your contract.”
An actual threat to her well being, her job. She zipped her lips, hating herself for being so foolish. She had no power at all. One slip and JiWook could pull the lever on her future.
“Those who color within the lines get an A, ladies. Our team is doing logistics gymnastics and shelling out too much money to douse this lesbian reveal.”
Everyone who wasn’t Jessica rocked to attention. Seohyun mouth hung loose. “Th-this what?!”
“We were seen,” Tiffany admitted to the floor.
“Photographed on a friendly, platonic outing with you heterosexual friend,” JiWook amended, grit strong. “You can’t be a--like that. You’re dating Ace.”
“Mr. Toddler Shirt, ex-gymnast Ace?!” Yoona snorted, “But he’s such a fa-”
“Willing young man who’s already recording a statement,” he interrupted in no amusement whatsoever. “He co-hosts a gossip show and couldn’t appear biased towards his girlfriend Tiffany and Lucky Six. He was preserving your images; although, now that this rubbish is out, he must set things straight.”
Lies. Double-bearding. Of course.
“Does this hurt, JiWook?”
They switched to Jessica. Voice so foreign, normally swallowed up or absent from discord. “Lying to cover an intrinsic part of someone?”
“Miss Jung, these gossip links to Skandl started after you became a member. Don’t make me question your leader position.”
“Then, why place me in it?” Jessica begged, “I was fucking new. Why put this much pressure on me?”
“Language.”
Hyoyeon backed her. “Seriously, why!?”
“Because,” JiWook stalled, kicking a dip in the rug. “Less experienced idols heed the rules more than--”
“People like me,” Tiffany finished.
“Tiffany Hwang, you’re defiant and headstrong. Managing Jinnie with that title gave me years-long migraines. You’re not a walk in the park, either.”
Jessica nodded, words small. “I’m easier to control.”
“No,” he contended, “you obey. That’s what your group needs. Regulation.”
Yoona shot to her feet. JiWook recoiled at the abrupt action, observing her height advantage. “Sica’s not your damn puppet! And Fany--Fany being headstrong is a fucking cool! They’re our leader team!”
Team?
Tiffany’s eyes brushed her and Jessica’s entwined fingers.
Dear god.
“Like a married couple,” Seohyun sneaked under her breath.
“Yes!” Yoona shoved her roommate in the head. “Like a married couple! Double-mothers are hot!”
JiWook squinted, befuddled. “Miss Im, please sit down. I take no issue with you.”
“Well, ya should because you’re insulting my people!”
“Your people?”
“Yes. Because uh,” Yoona colored slightly. “I’m the gay one--not them. Stop punishing the wrong members with these fucking restrictions.”
Their manager scratched his stubble, blanking at Elite’s ‘Ideal Girl’ coming out. “Tiffany kisses her friends?”
“Yes, god! Isn’t that what straight women do!?”
“...no?”
“You can equip Tiffany with the fruitiest boyfriend on the planet. I don’t give a damn. But, stop shaming our friends from Skandl. Yul, Sunny, and Taeyeon are afraid to visit because of this mess.”
Realizing Yuri may never visit again brought on a deluge of hot tears. In addition to Yoona attempting to take the fall.
JiWook didn’t look swayed. “Miss Hwang? These rumors, pictures, whispers...all untrue?”
Regressing to the idol closet stung; though, she knew the deal. Jessica knew the deal. If they convinced management of their ‘straightness’, they could be free after media’s smoke cleared.
She hated this compromise.
High security and unresolved conflict dampering the upcoming concert and world tour overrode her hate. She wasn’t done with stardom, with dominating the world as Lucky Six. “Yes.”
“Miss Jung, is Kim Taeyeon only your friend?”
Check. Tiffany yielded a white lie for everyone’s benefit. Her heart-driven counterpart was a wild card. She pushed one more bump of assurance through their hands.
Jessica spoke carefully, for JiWook and the rest to hold their breaths, waiting. “If you haven’t seen any pictures or solid proof, there’s no reason to think otherwise.”
A legitimate sidestepping answer while subtly getting a dig at Tiffany. She nodded, impressed. She underestimated her.
Yoongie, too. A zero-offense member stepping up out of nowhere. JiWook would never lay the hammer on her like other members. Her faultless, mastered persona had the country fooled. Tiffany taught her well.
Eventually, JiWook bid them to go to board the SUV outside. He also scheduled privates chats with Hyoyeon and Yoona. Didn’t surprise Tiffany at all.
Him stopping Tiffany from leaving the couch did. “Until Elite’s statements are made, it’s best for you to stay home.”
“Wouldn’t that make it more obvious? I need to practice.”
He sighed. “You’ll get your practice. For today, you’re out the public eye.”
She processed this as her girls hugged her into a five-girl sequence. The last two--Jessica and Yoona--held her the longest.
Tiffany loved her girls. Maybe more now than ever.
Abandoned again, she broke down.
…
Everything would feel a hell of a lot more heartwarming if her relationship wasn’t hanging by a thread. The bond Tiffany would have to deny until the day she needed Botox.
She took an hour-long shower. Unheard of in the Lucky Six dorm. A microscopic perk of exclusion--searing streams and space to berate herself. For being selfish, for bringing others into her drama, for being a bitch.
A bigger bitch than Taeyeon.
In a satin robe, bared of all barriers--physical nor emotional--Tiffany lamented openly. Her small fists pounded recent failures into her bed’s the plush cotton. Cursing Elite, Jinnie, herself for having to lie. And, to sort out frustrations and nothing else, she cursed those who didn’t deserve it--Hyoyeon, Yoona, Jessica. Solely for their involvement that day.
Especially Jessica. Who demonstrated more competence than she imagined, than she’d previously hoped. She drove Tiffany to the Kwon’s house under the dark cloud of betrayal, for Christ’s sake. Selfless to a fault. Just like Yul.
Yuri’d been sick of the idol business for a year. Tiffany relentlessly pushed her every few months to tough it out--reminding her why she loved it in the first place. It’d become dicey. But, she stayed in Skandl. For Tiffany. But, moreso for her friends.
Jessica Jung straddled the line from “benefit of the doubt” to naïve. Somehow, it worked. And she had no idea Yoona or the girls pictured them as a team and not secret rivals, like in Tiffany’s head. The official ‘leader’ role was mostly worthless. But, powerful in the way people treated them in interviews, assuming certain qualities. Qualities she possessed.
Currently, Jessica possessed what Tiffany wanted: an intact relationship. Alas, she regretted sowing that seed in her head about Taeyeon.
She couldn’t help it. Anger and resentment made her extremely observant. Mind cogs cranked the moment Jessica came out. Lonely Tae + Starry-Eyed Jess equaled that gay double-dater. And something else: blackmail material in case shit went south.
Thinking about herself conspiring so early gave her chills. She examined the other half of the bedroom, padding over to sit on the edge, fluffing a pillow or two.
She grinned; busting in on Taeyeon and Jessica having sex was entertaining. Those dummies. Jessica really was her friend. Tiffany just couldn’t accept it 100% until that almost-car accident.
A triangle of white beneath the biggest pillow caught Tiffany’s gaze. She gave it a tug, discovering a messy sheet of music. More sheets followed. Mostly lyrics and random notes...from Sunny.
Odd.
When Tiffany skimmed the header: “love:murder”, she gasped.
Why hide this? Yuri gave her the rundown of the song, its origin, as well its melody. Actually reading the song erected scarlet flags.
Selfless to a fault.
Tiffany wished to dispel her worries; perhaps Jessica just curious. Though, these were legit mockups by the one and only Lee Sunkyu. They didn’t get along, as far she could tell.
Jessica took the ‘white knight’ analogy to heart; Tiffany knew.
Had to nip this in the bud. As a leader--nay, a Lucky Six member should.
“What?”
Twenty-three calls and four mobster-level voicemails forced Taeyeon to answer the phone. The little urchin could spare at least a short conversation. “Good morning.”
“What?” she growled.
“I have a question. Regarding your girlfriend.”
“The girlfriend who trusts you despite a laundry list of wrongs? That one?”
Shit. “This is me apologizing.”
“What about Jessica?”
“Is she…” Tiffany couldn’t cook up a safe way to ask. “content?”
“Yep.”
“With Lucky Six and our company?”
“Elite can fuck off.”
Grumpy Taeyeon, of course. “Jessica should name you Cursey bear.”
“Uh huh.”
“Yul and I…” Tiffany trailed off, assuming she got the gist. “Trouble in paradise.”
“You brought on yourself.”
“I know. And I want to make things right.”
A pause. Shuffling, as if Taeyeon was getting comfortable. “Go on.”
“Th-thank you for not telling Yul...you know…”
“She’d be pissed as fuck.”
“Too late.”
“Are you calling to make me miserable?”
“No. I’m wondering if you gave ‘love:murder’ to Jess.”
“Love:mur--” Taeyeon sounded genuinely surprised. “I have a digital copy, but no.”
“She has an original. From Sunny, if my gut’s correct. Jess wouldn’t take this public or anything? I don’t know on what terms she has this.”
“N-no,” she stumbled, “Jessica loves what she does.”
“Is it backup?” Tiffany recalled JiWook’s attitude, his claim that Jessica wouldn’t go against the grain. “Supposing anything went wrong?”
“Like you and Yul being caught?”
“No, asshole. I’m a breeder, according to the press.”
“Right.”
“I mean as some sort of rebellion. Hyo, Yoong, and I are under the flame, so to speak.”
“She wouldn’t.”
“Then, what about me?”
“You’d do anything to save your skin.”
Tiffany migrated to her desk, lipping “love:murder”’s first line. Logging into her laptop, she said, “I have to win Yul back.”
“In a grand gesture that’d fuck your group up even more?”
“I lied today. I’ll be lying until Lucky disbands. This song--if I sing it, no-one dangerous will know who it’s for. I’d give Sunny credit. Her real music can be put out there while you’re suffering Skandl’s new concept.”
Taeyeon went quiet for a long moment. Contemplating, more than likely. “Keep talking.”
“I want your blessing. As a Skandl member.” Tiffany brought up her cloud storage. She highlighted a blue folder labeled ‘TJ’. “Would singing this show Yul I’m not a selfish, Jinnie-esque demon?”
“What if it backfires? And Elite kicks you out?”
“Would Yul love it--yes or no?”
Tiffany’s pointer hovered, shaking.
“Yeah. She’s into that mushy stuff.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re not cool. You know this, right?”
“Yes. We’re competitors.”
In a few clicks, Tiffany deleted an internet’s dream-worth of photos. The cute post-midnight show embrace on Skandl’s sofa and images of Jessica wearing Taeyeon’s hoodie around the dorm. Gone forever.
Time to memorize a song.
[A/N]
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I cut out more than two pages within the first hour of editing 22 hahaha. Please, please tell me this mess makes sense. Hardest chapter yet. BUT, I SURVIVED.
*beat boxes to self/doesn’t post it online*
Have some bitchy/srs bsns Fany. Cus it's sexy af:
