Title: Love Game in the Dark
Chapter(s): 1/xx
Author:
sentimentalenvy Genre: romance
Rating: PG-13 - R
Warning(s): language (for now)
Pairing/Characters: Yunjae, Yoosu , Jaechun, Kimin.
Disclaimer: I am not their mother :\
Synopsis: Payback is a bitch but no matter what, in the end, karma bites everyone in the ass.
Comment(s): Various POVs. I will be sure to inform you all as the story progresses (It’s mostly going to be from JJ’s POV though).
1
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six months earlier...
It was inevitable. I wouldn’t consider myself a “Queen Bee”, since that terminology is obviously used for females, but I suppose you can consider a male version of what a head of a bee colony would be like. I’m a third year student attending my last year at Seoul High School. Don’t be fooled by my good boy looks because I assure you I am anything but that. I have a group that I like to call my cronies that dig up the dirty scoop for me and they deal with the dirty work I don’t bother messing around with.
Boys want me, girls die to be me, blah blah blah, and you know how the lame unoriginal saying goes. I don’t know any other way to say it. My mother is the principle of this superior high school and my grandmother was one of the co-founders of this school’s establishment. My mother sweeps the floor with the board members, therefore giving me the edge I need to persuade my mother to have things done whatever way I wish to be done. My father is a sleazy scumbag, however, he makes up for the disgusting image by being the head of Kim Corp. If you ask me, he knows jack shit about real fashion. The clothing line is better off run by me - of course, this is a position that will be handed down to me when the old man believes I am ready. Please, I believe the time will come sooner than you think old man. My mother loves me to smithereens - wait. Don’t go jumping into conclusions that I’m some mama’s boy.
“Joongie!”
Awh, fuck.
“Joongie, let Umma take a good look at you. Turn, baby, turn for me!” She giggles excitedly as she spins my body round and round. I was actually starting to get dizzy after the 5th clockwise and counter clockwise turn.
“Aish, Umma, stop it! This is like the 3rd outfit you’ve stuffed me in. I thought you said I looked good in anything,” I muttered beneath my breath, not amused. I wanted to spend my first day of school having a nice breakfast by myself in the dining room, with a nice freshly brewed coffee with my maids offering me my choice of my favorites. My mother just had to ruin my morning by spending a damn hour and a half because she can’t decide on a damn look. Imagine the look of horror on my face when I have to deal with every kind of special occasion you can think of. Not. Fun.
She had thrown a pair of white jeans, and practically dug around my wardrobe for almost 10 minutes just to fish out a dark blue sweater that hugged my body quite nicely. Oh, and I can’t forget my favorite grey cashmere that reached down to my thigh. My mother often didn’t bother stuffing me in feminine clothes. Actually, you can say she’s a little too creepily overwhelmed when I do.
“Aah hold on baby! Scarf, scarf, where is that scarf?!” She half whined, bustling around my room, shoving my walk in closet and immediately heading to the section where my scarves were lined up next to my beanie section. “Ah hah!” She exclaimed in triumph after sliding at least 10 scarves over at super light speed.
“Alright, Umma! Just h-hand it over,” I stutter nervously, inching towards her and inching back. I don’t want to be nearly strangled like I have been done several times in her attempt to get me all snuggly and cute.
“Ah, don’t be like that, baby. That was an accident. I promise never to do it again. Now, come here.”
“You make it sound like you’ve only tried to kill me once,” I said, as-a-matter-of-fact manner.
“I said, COME. HERE. NOW.”
“NO!” I screamed, quickly making a head start, mad dash out of my room as I practically flew down the staircase. To my horror, I actually envisioned my mother lassoing me into her confines with my precious $341 Herme scarf that did not match my outfit. At all. I plan on changing my scarf when my mother leaves ahead of me for work. At that moment I dare looked back to see my mother literally flying mid-way into the air, across the stairs, and finally latching onto my back.
Sigh.
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This is it. This is going to be my last year in this high school, and everyone was busy either shuffling their way down the halls, rushing up and down the stairs or loitering along the window sills or by the steps. They can do whatever for all I care, just so as long as they don’t cause me any trouble.
During my second term I had an unfortunate girl trip down the stairs in front of me, and I don’t blame her for reaching out the first thing nearby, apparently I was the one she reached out for. I don’t know what sort of instinct in me caused me to pull her towards me and cushion her fall. No matter the reason, she was banished from this school the next day.
I may have broken her fall, but Park Yoochun had broken mine. I didn’t bother causing him trouble since; apparently, I had broken his wrist from my weight when he tried to catch me. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I couldn’t just leave him with the sprained wrist since he was the one that actually helped me. I remember guiding the both of them to the nurse’s office, thinking that he was angry at me for his misfortune, he didn’t seem angry at all.
After our encounter with the stairs, that guy didn’t seem to leave me alone. He already knew who I was and he may not have known what I was capable of, but he wouldn’t show a hint of fear when I threatened him either. He wasn’t really that great looking of a guy, so I can hardly understand why I hadn’t gotten rid of him any sooner than I could have. Eventually, I don’t know how this ever happened, but I suddenly found myself actually dating the guy. It may be nothing new for me, but what is new, is that I’m still with him now. We hooked up around the end of my junior year and I’m not really sure if we’re going to last the rest of this last year. He’s a nice guy, yes, but I don’t see myself with him - not in the future.
It may have been four months since we’ve dated, and regardless of his feelings, I’ve kept up the image of myself being the all star bitch of the school. He knows everything about the underground shady business that goes on within this campus, and he’s tried to convince me out of it, but I’ve made it clear that I have no intention of stopping now. I don’t know why he still insists on claiming that he’s going to fucking change me.
Since I do not feel like hanging around with a bunch of bimbos, this morning, I immediately head for my first class of the day. I’m nearly bumped into by freshmen who don’t know or even bother to watch where they’re going. Pity they have to learn the hard way - that is, if they ever cross paths with me. They’re lucky I’m actually bothering to dodge out of the way. To be honest, I don’t quite fancy freshman touching me anyway.
I hook my fingers onto the sliding door and push it open; somewhat pleased with the sudden chatter coming to a stop. Yes, oh how I love my senior class. It’s because they’ve stayed here long enough to know I’m not one to be messed with. I wouldn’t be surprised if some students knew about what really happens on these school grounds. I already know there are students that know the truth and there are some that buy the bullshit cover-ups my girls dish out. I don’t mind what they think. I mean if someone talks shit about you and you’re not there to hear it then you can’t really make a judgment now, can you? Oh, but if you’re caught by someone else of a particular ally and you get reported then I suppose you’re a goner. If it comes to that then it really isn’t my problem now. Is it?
Shrugging the rest of the sliding door to the side, I walk towards a preferred seat which is always located near the back of the classroom by the windows. The teachers don’t ever try stirring up any trouble with me and it is because of my mother. I’m not a mama’s boy. She just so happens to be a threat. That’s all. Besides, it’s not like my grades aren’t well earned. I’m not stupid and I do well on my tests. I’ve actually had some of my teachers pretend to skip mistakes that I’ve made for the extra percentages. Idiots. See? This. This is what I hate about these people. I hate people who are so fake towards me. That’s all they’ve ever been to me. Unreal. They’re not real.
Why do these people have to be afraid of me? Why do they feel the need to act stupid in front of me? Fuck. I don’t want these memories to come back. I shake my head, feeling my bangs swishing back and forth as I shake my thoughts out of my head. No, I won’t let the past get to me. I was a child. Kids will be kids, right? My past is a huge part of who I am. My past is what made me who I am today. This sort of respect that people give me - it’s … it’s something I’ve earned. I shouldn’t feel guilty, nor should I feel saddened by the thought. As a matter of fact, I do not need to feel impulsive towards myself. It’s them I should feel disgusted with.
As I wait for my girls to arrive to class, I am pleased to hear that the silence has turned back into the normal atmosphere. I like attention but I suppose there are times where it gets a bit too awkward to the point where I kind of want to smash a vase against a wall to break the silence. I am not happy however, in the middle of removing my pencil case and binder out of my bag, is when I hear the silence fall in once more. I lift my head up to see Yoochun walking into the classroom. Well, that was to be expected. People show him respect because he’s with me. Oh, no, wait. He isn’t coming in alone?
Yoochun looks like he’s pulling another student into the room with him. Could it be his new boyfriend? No, it’s impossible. Nobody dumps Kim Jaejoong before he dumps him. I need to not refer to myself in third person. I look past Yoochun and it’s no wonder everyone is extra silent.
“What’s with the silence?” Yoochun asked, chuckling. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t think my cousin was worth introducing. Yah, Yunho, introduce yourself.” Yoochun shot an arm out to hit Yunho with an ugly sounding slap as the boy winced and shot Yoochun a quick glare before shoving his hands into his uniform pockets.
“Good morning everyone, my name is Jung Yunho. I'm a transfer student from the States, Virginia, to be exact. It’s a pleasure to meet you all and I hope you’ll assist me well.” He smiled, charmingly, and I could’ve sworn I saw a girl rubbing herself at the edge of her chair. Note to self: Avoid that seat at all cost.
Since when did it become okay to masturbate in public?
Disgusting.
Before I knew it, Yoochun was already making his way towards me while the rest of my classmates swarmed over to drag him over to a friggin seat. After that, I just felt damn sorry for the guy. Even in our school uniform, he just seemed to sport it flawlessly. I’d bet if he was one of our models, he’d be able to sell any outfit we throw him in. I should ask Appa if Yunho would be considered. Wait, who am I kidding? Of course he would be.
“…was interesting, would you wanna see it this weekend with me?”
I barely heard whatever story Yoochun was babbling about since I was too busy in my thoughts and the poor sight in front of me. Geez. Even I didn’t get that much attention my first year. Oh, no. It’s because he’s from the United States and he’s good looking. Well what do you know? This bastard is stealing my thunder. He didn’t even look my way or acknowledge me. Well I suppose these Americanized kids are rude like that.
“Jaejoong.”
“Huh?”
“I was just wondering if you were interested in watching the new documentary coming out this weekend. It’s actually not as boring as it sounds,” He laughed.
“Oh…yeah, sure.”
I feel sort of bad for half ignoring Yoochun, and I’m not the kind of person to admire someone right away, but Yoochun’s cousin just looks so damn intriguing. Plus, I have to admit, I’m sort of jealous. He’s taking all the attention. Actually I could say something against it and everyone would avoid him like the plague, but I won’t.
“Great! Oh yeah, I was gonna invite you with Yunho and me for a quick bite to eat after school but I just remembered you were gonna pick up your cousins at the airport right?”
Oh, right. Two of my cousins have been continuing their studies in China. We’ve got our company running in China as well. Two of my cousins’ parents had moved there to help my father run the company and they had to be dragged along for the ride. Junsu and Kibum finally put their foot down and I guess with their persistent nagging, I’m guessing they finally drove their parents off the cliff and they were coming back to finish the rest of their high school career here.
“Yeah. I am, I’m sorry,” I smiled sheepishly. “Perhaps another time. We have the rest of the year after all.”
“We do,” Yoochun grinned. “Yunho’s a good guy. He’s just kinda hard headed sometimes and a real pain in the ass when he wants to be but - ”
Yoochun suddenly stopped talking, and I noticed that his face had gone pale. But? But what? What is he but-ting about?! Pain in the ass when he wants to be but? Is he implying that his cousin’s going to be an asshole to me? What’s wrong with me? No, wait. Don’t answer that.
“Meh.” I shrugged, making sure I caught a quick glance at the boy within the corner of my eye. “I could care less if he likes me or not. Don’t forget the fact that I practically run this school.”
Yoochun chuckled, “No, you don’t. Your mother does. She’s just your source of authority.”
“Shut up.” I faked a pout. “She doesn’t know about what I do. I know you won’t tell her either or you know what’s gonna happen to you. Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean you’re getting away with everything. Don’t abuse your privilege.”
“Aiiish, why do you gotta be so uptight?” Yoochun sighed, shifting further away from me as he pretended to half cower in pain. Ah, I knew I was harsh with my words sometimes, but I really don’t want people to forget who they’re dealing with. I do care about Yoochun…in a …something…way. I don’t know what way yet. I do care about him but I’ll never admit it to him or anyone else. He’s a good person. I’m just still not willing to sacrifice everything for him, and to be honest, I don’t think I ever will.
I’m sorry, Yoochun.
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After school was over, I bid Yoochun goodbye and quickly headed over to my ride which was already parked outside in the front of the school. Getting through the crowd was never a problem for me since the routine was pretty normal. It’s rare that anyone would stumble or be sitting right in my pathway.
School had been weird. I’ve seen Yunho around, conversing with students, and catching a few small smiles and chuckles here and there. He had never struck me as a very sociable guy - well, he doesn’t look like it anyway. He looks like the type of person with a cold exterior but picks his favorites to open to. I have a feeling that some of the students that know about the shady shit have been feeding Yunho a bunch of bullshit about me. He acted pretty normal with me during class and our class activities but after break, when he actually had more time to converse with people, he was just awkward with me. I wouldn’t say he was bitter, but more polite in an ‘I’ll-treat-you-as-an-acquaintance-but-I-don’t-want-to-have-anything-more-to-do-with-you’ kind of attitude. I might’ve been hallucinating but I almost felt the cold stares coming at me from whatever direction he was located. I have this sort of Yunho’s-staring-at-you-with-a-you’re-a-bitch radar. And if you ask me, that radar’s been going off an awful lot today.
Huh. Whatever shit they tell him is probably true anyway because the scarier the stories - the better. I want that boy to fear me. I can make him my bitch if I wanted to, but lucky for him, he’s Yoochun’s cousin. But that does not give him the right to start plotting against me. Well he better not be anyway. Anyone who has tried to put up a fight against my ways has been eliminated one proper way or a messy other. Who is he to look at me like that? Whatever. What’s important is that majority of the student body knowing nothing of the devious side of me. I intend to keep that position up if I’m going to be elected as Class President again. The elections are something that I refuse to have rigged. It’s one of my responsibilities that I take pride in. I’ve become president of my class since middle school and I intend on continuing my wining streak. Loosing equals not an option .
My thoughts are disturbed as my limo comes to a stop in front of the airport. I push myself out of the vehicle before my driver gets to open it and I rush past his stumpy figure to wait for my cousins by the gate. I’m actually quite excited to see Junsu and Kibum again. Two years is just too long to wait. I’m not much of a patient person, and I absolutely hate it when people are late. I lifted my left arm to take a quick glance at the time on my wrist. I’m fifteen minutes early. Aish. I hate killing time.
Maybe I should have brought Yoochun with me. He did mention that Yunho hasn’t been back in Korea since he was five years old. HAH. That brat is probably completely lost with the new buildings and things have obviously changed since then. Yoochun is probably Yunho’s only tour guide around here. What a shame. Second note to self: Hog Yoochun as much as possible.
Yeah, that's what you get for messing with Kim Jaejoong, bitch. I will take away every friend you make -
Aish...
No...I'm not that mean.
I just might though. So you better watch your back, Jung Yunho.
My thoughts were running continuously and I didn’t notice my chauffer, who has been beside me this whole time, address me to inform me that my cousins have arrived. I look at my watch and lifted my head up to see them waving at me, dragging their luggage behind them.
“Hyung!” They both exclaimed, immediately dropping their suitcases to throw themselves on me - literally.
“GAH!”
“We’ve missed you hyung! Hug us! Hug us!” Junsu squeaked, squishing me harder with every hug me.
“Alright, alright, alright! I’m hugging!” I couldn’t help but laugh, happily, and I could feel the excitement in my heart practically jumping up my esophagus. I love them so much. I momentarily thought about how I managed to survive two years without them knocking on my door during dinner time with a bowl of rice and chopsticks in their hands. Ai yaa these guys…
“Your parents said it was alright if we stayed over at your place for a few days while we get our own stuff arranged and back to normal at our own houses,” Kibum said with a grin. “I hope that’s alright.”
“Yeah, I don’t mind. Just don’t abuse me with my services,” I said, shooting them a warning glare.
“Eeh? Whatchu mean, hyung? It’s normal for us to be hungry. You always make us whatever we want,” Junsu gasped. “Do you do it out of pity, hyung?!”
“HUH?! NO!” I turned away, crossing my arms. “I’ll be cooking with the maids tonight. Tonight’s dinner will be special. My parents aren’t going to be home so I don’t see the harm in eating without them.”
“YES!” Junsu exclaimed, happily, jerking Kibum’s arm downwards with a triumphal grin. “Didja year that Kibum?! Hyung’s gonna prepare us a feast!”
“Oh yeah, you guys are lucky my mom isn’t home either.” I wanted to cackle as I shot them a mischievous, evil, grin. Good God, the looks on their face is priceless. I’m not the only one my mother loves to dress up. Heck, Junsu was more in danger than Kibum was. I remember when we were kids; my mother would practically chase Junsu around with all sorts of outfits. Junsu would be terrified of the frilly skirt, headbands and oversized handmade bows in all colors. We were all pretty feminine as kids. I was probably the only one that people would consider a girl straight off the bat. They could care less if I had a penis, because as far as I know, kids don’t get boners. So how the hell is the “grown-ups” supposed to figure out your sex? Easy. Ask the parents. Don't just assume.
Jackasses.
I totally wore boy clothes.
Most of the time.
In public.
I don't care what you say, Hamtaro rules the world.
“Ah! D-Don’t worry S-SuSu!” Kibum shouted, half stuttering in an attempt to calm him down. “You forget that we’re older now! I’m sure Auntie doesn’t have clothes our size to dress us up in anyway!”
“She still dresses me up and, if you haven’t noticed, we’re still all pretty similar in sizes,” I said, my deadpan tone not calming their fears whatsoever.
“NO! FORGET IT KIBUM! WE’RE DEAD! WE’RE DEAD! WHEN WE GET THERE FIND EVERY BOW, SKIRT, FRILLIES, ANYTHING REMOTELY FEMININE AND AND BURN THEM! BURN THEM ALL!” Junsu wailed in despair as my chauffer hurried over with another one of my servants bent down to help them with their luggage.
I shook my head and laughed before I extended my arm to pull them both towards me. I sighed in content as I felt their body warmth press against me and their arms wrap around me to pull me into a tight hug in return.Finally. It’s about time you guys kept me company. It’s been lonely.
I’ve been too lonely…
A/N: I apologize for the shortness but that's as far as my inspiration goes :| I'll be sure to make up for it in the next update, Lol. As usual, feedback is greatly appreciated :).
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