YN pov
And now..... I wasn't sure what scared me more--the fact that he wanted answers.
Or the fact that part of me still wasn't ready to give them.
.......
I got to the dormitory with my heart still thudding in my chest, footsteps quick and shallow as if I could outrun the suspicion trailing behind me. The moment the door shut behind us, I peeled off my shoes and made a beeline for my room. I needed a second. Just one second to breathe.
But curiosity got the better of me.
I stepped onto the balcony, fingers parting the sheer curtain just enough to peek through.
There it was.
The same black bike parked across the street, leaning casually against the curb like it belonged there. The rider was gone--at least for now--but the sight of it was enough to twist my stomach into a knot.
I stood frozen for a second longer than I meant to, half-expecting a figure to appear, a helmet to turn toward me, eyes to meet mine.
Nothing.
Just the soft hum of the night, distant voices from the street, and the weight of being watched--even in stillness.
I let the curtain fall back into place and drew the heavier drapes closed, shutting the view out completely. If he was trying to scare me, it was working. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.
The bathroom tiles were cool under my feet as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. I stared at myself in the mirror. Pale. Tired. The faint mark on my neck now bruised into a deep violet. I dabbed it with a cold towel, then splashed my face with water, hoping it would help rinse away the paranoia clinging to me like smoke.
I changed into fresh clothes, softer ones, and finally--finally felt my heartbeat settle.
When I stepped out, the dorm was quiet. Fallon's door was shut, Kyra's room spilling out muffled music as usual, and Misselle had probably retreated into her cave of calm silence. None of them said a word, not even Fallon. No probing questions, no knowing looks.
For once, I was grateful for the silence.
I slipped back into my room, shut the door behind me, and sank onto the bed.
But peace didn't follow.
Because outside, somewhere in the night, he was still out there.
Waiting. Watching.
And I didn't know what would happen when he came back for the truth.
---------
It's been four days since the night I saw the bike outside.
Four days of sharp turns, glances over my shoulder, and the constant hum of being followed. At first, I was sure it was Jungkook--paranoia painting him into every shadow, every figure that lingered a beat too long behind me.
But this morning changed everything.
I was walking the usual path to college, earbuds in, hoodie up, trying to pretend I didn't feel a presence just two steps behind. I stopped to tie my shoelace near the hedge lining the west wall, and that's when I saw it something glinting just barely beneath a pile of dry leaves.
A ring.
Not just any ring.
**His** ring.
Miles's silver band, the one he wore always on his right thumb. The same one I used to tease him about in middle school, calling it his "power ring" like he was some knockoff superhero. He'd only laugh and say, "Maybe I am."
My fingers curled around the metal like it was some kind of proof. Something shifted in my chest, something hot and dizzying.
Was Miles the one following me?
And if he was….... why?
Now I'm standing in the middle of a pulsing club, bass vibrating up through my heels, and Fallon is practically vibrating with excitement next to me. She'd begged me to come, hands clasped like a child asking for candy, her eyes too bright to say no to. Then she'd thrown this tight bodycon dress at me with a wicked grin, and somehow, somehow, I ended up wearing it.
Now I feel bare. Exposed. Every step feels like too much skin, every breath like a spotlight. But Fallon's happy, her arms thrown up to the rhythm, and that makes the discomfort almost worth it.
Almost.
Because under the music, under the crowd and noise, my mind keeps circling back to that ring. To Miles.
He's here tonight. I saw him near the bar when we walked in--talking to Kevin, head tilted, casual as ever. He hasn't looked my way once, but I know he's seen me.
I'm going to ask him.
I don't know how yet--whether I'll drag him outside or just corner him by the pool table but I'll do it. I have to.
Because if he's the one following me… then maybe he knows. Maybe he remembers what he saved me from. Maybe this isn't just protection.
Maybe, just maybe, he feels something too.
And just thinking that makes my heart flutter so hard I have to steady myself against the bar.
Tonight, I'll find out the truth.
Miles is laughing ear to ear with Kevin, his body leaning slightly forward the way it always does when he's really amused. Kevin's chuckle follows, smooth and deep, like warm honey over gravel. He's leaning against the bar, casually perfect--his golden hair catching the neon lights in a way that makes him look like he just stepped off a runway. His grey eyes, sharp and almost metallic under the strobe lights, seem to miss nothing. His jawline could probably cut glass, and paired with that lazy half-smile, it's no wonder half the girls nearby keep stealing glances at him.
James is there too--loud, animated, and, of course, surrounded by two girls who are clearly entertained by whatever ridiculous story he's telling. His hands flail in the air mid-punchline, eyes twinkling with mischief. That's James-- funny, hopelessly flirtatious, and entirely girl-driven. I don't think he even noticed Kevin or Miles laughing just inches away from him.
But I did.
And then…... Miles's eyes catch mine.
It's only for a second but he winks.
Casual. Confident. Like it means nothing.
But to me? It feels like my knees forgot how to work properly.
I straighten, swallowing the nerves swelling in my chest, and begin moving toward him. Each step feels like slow motion, the music fading into a dull thump in the background. My hands brush my dress, trying to make sure everything is still in place, but it's useless. He's already looking. He saw me.
And now I'm walking straight into the moment I've been overthinking for days.
Miles pov
Me and Kevin are laughing, heads nearly touching as we try to muffle it over the loud music. It's the kind of laughter that bubbles up from something so messed up, it feels wrong to find it funny but we do.
"You really used YN to get a full scan of Jungkook's club," Kevin smirks, shaking his head. "You're insane."
I grin wider, tipping back the rest of my drink. "Worked, didn't it?"
(Flashback)
That night, six days ago, I had called Kevin to my place. Told him it was urgent. He showed up with a frown and a packet of chips, expecting drama.
"Watch this," I said, tossing him one of my earbuds and opening the file on my laptop.
It was a video--grainy in parts, a little shaky, but clear enough to see the inside layout of Jungkook's precious underground club. Captured by none other than YN's earrings--custom bug tech I had tucked onto them months ago for a project and, well, never really deactivated.
"What the—? What is this?" Kevin had paused, staring at the screen.
"That's YN's footage. From the night she snuck into the club."
He stared at me like I'd grown a second head, then burst out with a dozen slangs, half of which I'm sure he invented on the spot. "You psycho! You--what--what the hell!"
But as the video kept playing, his tone shifted. He leaned in. Watched carefully. His expression went from shock to calculation.
"This… this is genius," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "We can map out everything--entrances, exits, the damn security routines."
I nodded. "That's the plan."
And that's exactly what we did. Kevin helped me sketch out the blueprints, noting weak spots and hidden nooks. I've been refining them ever since. The excitement of it all--the heist-like thrill, the perfect payback--is addictive.
I don't even hate Jungkook, to be honest.
I just love Fallon.
And that bastard never lets me near her. Always hovering. Always guarding her like he knows something I don't. She doesn't even know how I feel, I've never told her. Hell, no one knows. Fallon's the chaos I never knew I needed. She's fire, and I've been orbiting too long without getting burned.
Still…...
A flicker of guilt crawls into my chest as I look at YN now, walking toward me in that tight dress, her eyes full of something soft and dangerous.
She doesn't know. About the camera. About my feelings for Fallon. About how I used her, used her trust to get what I needed.
I know how she looks at me. I've seen the flutter in her smile, the way her breath catches when I get too close. I know.
And that's what makes this suck.
Because even if she asks tonight--I can't tell her the truth. Not yet.
Not until Fallon knows the part of it that really matters.
(Present)
YN walks up to me, eyes sharp with something I can't quite read. There's a pause between us--a small, loaded silence and then she says, "Hi."
I smile, tilting my head just a little. "Hi, butterfly."
God, that look in her eyes. I know it. Doubt. Hope. Something raw beneath the surface.
"Tell me what you want to ask," I add gently.
She doesn't hesitate. Those big eyes lock onto mine as she reaches into her small clutch and pulls out something small, silver.
A ring.
My ring.
"Were you there yesterday night?" she asks, voice quiet but steady. "And the previous four days? Following me?"
My smile falters for the first time.
Because damn.
I was there last night. I was near her dorm after midnight. I'd come hoping to catch a glimpse of Fallon from across the street, to see if she was safe, to make sure that bastard Jungkook wasn't around. I never saw YN. Didn't even know she noticed anything.
And the ring… yeah, that's mine. I must've dropped it when I adjusted my bike gloves or maybe when I leaned against the wall by the corner.
But the last four days?
That wasn't me.
Still I can't let her spiral.
So I nod, keeping my voice calm. "Yes, butterfly. I was following you. Just to make sure you were safe."
She doesn't say anything right away. Just stares at me, like she's trying to hear the truth between my words.
I force a light chuckle. "Is there any problem?"
Yn pov
As soon as he said it--that he'd been following me for my safety--my stomach flipped in the most ridiculous, fluttery way. Like actual butterflies had taken up residence in my chest and were doing cartwheels just for fun.
And then, as if that wasn't enough to make my heart stutter, he added with that maddeningly soft voice, "Is there any problem?"
I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. "N-no problem," I mumbled, trying not to sound like I was melting on the inside.
His eyes didn't leave mine. "If you ever do have a problem, you can tell me," he said. "I'm always behind you."
Always behind me.
The way he said it--like it was a vow, like I could lean back any second and he'd be there to catch me, I just nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak. Not when my heart was being so dramatic.
I was about to say something else. Maybe even ask why he really cared. Maybe ask why me.
But then----
"YN!" Fallon's voice rang through the music as she pushed through the crowd, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me away like her life depended on it. "Come here, I need you. It's urgent!"
"Wait--Fallon!" I twisted to glance back at Miles, who just gave me a crooked smile, almost amused.
And then I was gone, swept into Fallon's chaos, my chance to ask anything real slipping through my fingers.
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