KARINA POV
The alarm went off, but I didn't even need it. Winter's voice was already echoing through the dorm like a morning drill sergeant.
"Unnie, wake up. We have to leave in thirty minutes!" she called from across the room.
I groaned softly and forced my eyes open, blinking at the ceiling. My body ached from exhaustion. We had just crashed into bed a few hours ago, and already it was time to move again.
"I'm awake," I mumbled, swinging my legs off the bed.
Winter peeked her head into my room, already in her schedule clothes with minimal makeup done. "You said that twenty minutes ago too."
I glanced at the clock. Damn. She was right. I scrambled to my feet, rushed through my morning routine, and threw on the outfit the stylist had left out for me. There wasn't even time to stretch. I hated mornings like this—not because they were early, but because there was no breathing space.
As expected, the manager was waiting near the van, arms folded and face stern, but he didn't say anything when he saw us rush out on time. Barely.
The day blurred by in a rush of makeup brushes, stage rehearsals, camera flashes, and quick meals in the van. We had radio interviews, a music show recording, then a short live stream with fans. All back-to-back.
At one point, while driving between schedules, we had a short break. I finally had a moment to breathe and instinctively reached for my phone.
My heart did a small tug when I saw the message notification—him. The message was still unopened. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over it.
"Karina, let's go!" the staff called out from the front.
I sighed and put my phone away without opening the message. Again.
By late evening, the exhaustion had completely taken over our bodies. We finally returned to the dorm. The air conditioning hit us like a blessing as we entered.
Winter dropped face-first onto the couch with a groan.
"Do not wake me unless the building is on fire," she mumbled into the pillow.
Giselle followed behind, yawning and heading straight to her room.
I sat down at the kitchen counter, finally letting my muscles relax. My bag slipped off my shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud. I didn't even pick it up.
It was only after a few quiet minutes that I noticed Ningning wasn't slowing down like the rest of us.
She was in her room, shuffling through her closet, tossing clothes onto the bed, and brushing her hair.
"Ning...?" I called, raising a brow. "What are you doing?"
She popped her head out, eyeliner half-done. "Getting ready."
I blinked. "For what?"
She gave me a sheepish smile. "I'm going out."
My brows knit together. "Out? Like—out out?"
"Yeah." She walked out of her room now, fixing her earrings. "Just meeting a friend from school. Haven't seen her in months. It's nothing crazy."
"It's already 10 p.m., Ning. We have schedule tomorrow."
"I know," she said with a shrug, slipping on her shoes. "But our first thing tomorrow isn't until noon. I'll still get plenty of sleep. I just need a breather, unnie. We've been locked in schedule hell for a week straight."
I crossed my arms. "I get it, but make sure you're careful, alright? You know how it is—people recognize you even with a mask on."
"I'm just going for a drink and a chat. Nothing wild. I'll stay in the corner of some low-key café or rooftop place." She grabbed her phone and glanced back. "I'll text you the location. If anything happens, you'll be the first I call."
I nodded, still not entirely reassured. "Keep your GPS on."
She smirked, giving me a peace sign. "Yes, Mom."
"I'm serious."
"I know. I will. Promise." She grabbed her hoodie and pulled the hood over her cap. "See you in a couple of hours, unnie. Go sleep."
"Be careful," I said again as she opened the door. "And text me if anything feels off."
"I will." She winked. "You get some rest too. You look like your soul left your body."
I snorted. "It probably did."
The door shut behind her, and the dorm was quiet again.
I stared at the closed door for a moment longer than I meant to. Ningning could be carefree like that—she still had the energy. I, on the other hand, just wanted to curl up under my blanket and disappear.
As I trudged toward my room, I passed by my phone still sitting on the kitchen counter.
I paused, staring at it.
That message from him. Still unreply.
I told myself I'd reply today.
I told myself yesterday too.
I'll reply tomorrow. I will.
With that last weak promise, I picked up the phone, turned off the screen, and headed to bed.
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Y/N POV
Evening crept in quietly, painting the sky in muted shades of indigo and burnt orange. From the window of my small apartment, the sun was a half-disc, sinking behind the tall buildings across the street. I stood still for a moment, just watching. The city was always alive, always moving, but tonight... it felt different. Like something was about to shift. Or maybe I was the one changing.
I checked the time—7:00 p.m. The club opened at eight, which meant I had an hour to get ready.
I turned toward the bed where the shopping bags lay neatly stacked, exactly how the store staff had delivered them earlier. Expensive packaging, neat folds, that scent of new clothes—like fresh linen mixed with subtle cologne. I wasn't used to it. I wasn't used to any of this.
My hands moved automatically, unpacking the items one by one. A clean, dark fitted tee. A light bomber jacket. Slim-fit jeans that hugged my legs just right without being too tight. Sneakers—white, spotless, and probably worth more than everything in my wardrobe before this.
The mirror on my wall was cracked slightly at one edge, but it still did the job. I stepped in front of it, holding the clothes against myself, then slowly began to change. Each piece I wore felt like armor—lightweight, but strong. Comfortable, but sharp. Like they were designed to make me visible in a world that never really saw me.
After I finished dressing, I fixed my hair with the products Joon handed me earlier. I wasn't used to styling it—it had always just been messy or flat—but now it was pushed back with slight volume, clean and smooth. I didn't even need to try hard. The haircut from earlier did most of the work.
Then I looked into the mirror again.
For a moment... I couldn't move.
The person staring back at me—he didn't look like me. Not the version of me I'd known for years, not the tired, beaten-down ghost who barely had enough will to breathe some mornings. This person... had a sharp jawline, focused eyes, a bit of stubble that somehow added to the charm. His posture was confident. His clothes fit perfectly. The hairstyle brought out angles I didn't even know I had.
Only the faint bruises and healing cuts on the side of my cheek reminded me of who I used to be.
I tilted my head, studying myself like I was seeing a stranger.
"...It not so bad," I muttered under my breath, almost surprised by my own voice.
It felt wrong to say it—but not in a bad way. It felt foreign. Like I wasn't used to acknowledging myself... as someone who could be anything other than invisible.
Just then, my phone buzzed on the counter. The sound startled me a little. I reached over and checked the message.
[Unknown Number]
I'm at the lobby sir.
I stared at the message for a second before it fully clicked.
This was it. My ride.
The one Joon mentioned.
I grabbed my wallet and slid my phone into my pocket. No backpack, no oversized hoodie, no worn-out cap. I didn't need those anymore—not tonight.
I gave myself one last glance in the mirror.
Even though my reflection still didn't quite feel like me, I knew it was. This was just... a version of me I'd never had the chance to become.
I exhaled quietly, stepped out of the apartment, and locked the door behind me.
As the doors slid open to the lobby, I spotted a sleek black sedan idling just outside. The headlights were on, casting white light against the pavement. A tall man in a dark jacket stood beside the car, scrolling through his phone.
He looked up as I stepped outside.
"You're Sam's new guy?" he asked in a low voice, clearly sizing me up.
I nodded. "Yeah."
He tilted his head slightly, examining me for a second longer before giving a faint smirk. "Joon really cleaned you up."
I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or sarcasm.
He opened the back door. "Come on. Don't be late on your first night."
I slid into the backseat. The leather was cool against my palms, and the subtle scent of air freshener mixed with cigarette smoke lingered in the air. The driver started moving without another word.
I stared out the window as we pulled away from the apartment.
My reflection blended with the city lights. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't look away.
The ride to Itaewon was quiet, but my head wasn't.
My heart beat steadily but heavy. This wasn't some regular part-time job at a convenience store or a diner. I was entering something different. Something I didn't fully understand yet.
Sam's world was dangerous. I knew that the moment I heard his name again. And now I was stepping into that world willingly. Out of desperation. Out of necessity.
But still... something deep in my chest buzzed with something unfamiliar.
Anticipation.
Nervousness, yes. But excitement, too.
I thought back to everything that had happened in the last 24 hours.
Fired from my job. Beaten by my foster father. Offered a lifeline by a man I barely knew. Given clothes I couldn't afford. A new haircut. A chance.
And now, a car ride into a world where appearance was everything—and weakness could get you killed.
As the city passed by outside, I realized something.
I didn't have a choice anymore.
As soon as the car came to a slow stop in front of the club, I could already hear the faint pulse of music thumping through the walls. It wasn't loud yet—probably because it was still early—but the atmosphere was already alive. The sleek black car door clicked open, and I stepped out slowly, adjusting the sleeves of the new jacket I was wearing. The cold air brushed against my skin, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like a ghost.
I barely had time to soak in the sight of the entrance before my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked the message.
[From: Joon]
Come upstairs. I'm waiting.
I glanced at the tall, modern building, then back at my phone. No directions. No instructions. Just "come upstairs". Typical.
I made my way through the entrance, and as expected, security didn't stop me. Either they recognized me already, or Joon had made arrangements. Inside, the main floor of the club was quiet—too quiet. No guests had arrived yet. The lights were still dim, but I could see the setup clearly now that it wasn't crowded. Expensive interior. Polished black marble floors. Crystal lights hanging from the ceiling in patterns that looked like constellations. Leather booths arranged with perfect symmetry.
Everything about the place screamed money.
I took the elevator to the top floor like I somehow just knew where to go. When the doors opened, I was greeted by a completely different world. This wasn't just a club. It was an empire, and I was standing in the throne room.
At the end of the hall, sitting at the bar counter that overlooked the club from above, was Joon.
He didn't look at me right away. He swirled the wine in his glass slowly, like he had all the time in the world. I walked toward him, unsure if I should speak first.
"Drink?" he asked casually, still not turning to face me.
I shook my head. "No. I don't want to be drunk on my first night."
He let out a low chuckle—one of those short, quiet laughs that told me he wasn't really laughing. "Smart. Most idiots say yes on their first day, trying to impress. Then they mess up and get kicked out."
I didn't reply.
He finally turned his body slightly toward me and pulled something out of his coat. It was a small black wireless earpiece. He held it out to me. "Put this on."
I hesitated but took it.
"This is how you'll listen in. You're not here to show off or take orders from drunk customers. You're not even here to bounce. Not really," he said, his voice calm but cold. "Tonight, you observe. That's all. Just watch. Listen. Stay in the shadows. If something happens and the others can't handle it, we move in."
"So I'm... backup?" I asked, slipping the earpiece into place.
"In a way." Joon leaned back in his seat and took another slow sip of wine. "But not just any backup. You're here for problems that other people don't want to deal with."
I frowned. "What kind of problems?"
He smiled faintly. That same annoying half-smile like he knew something I didn't. "The kind that don't show up on security cameras. The kind that get swept under the rug."
That answer didn't exactly help.
"You're talking in metaphors again," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "You could just tell me what I'm really doing here."
He tilted his head, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle. "You'll understand eventually. For now, do what I say, and you'll be fine."
I exhaled slowly, then looked down at the floor of the club below us. A few staff members were moving around, getting things ready. The vibe was slowly shifting. Soon the place would be packed.
"How many bouncers are working tonight?" I asked.
"Three on the floor. Two at the entrances. And us," he replied. "They handle the surface. We handle the shadows."
Again with the vague metaphors. I didn't even bother responding.
"You look better, by the way," Joon said suddenly.
I blinked. "Huh?"
He gestured at me with his glass. "Better than you did this morning. Less like a stray. More like someone who belongs in this world."
I looked down at myself. The new clothes really did make a difference. For the first time, I didn't feel embarrassed to be seen. And honestly... it felt strange.
"I still don't know why you're doing all this," I said, keeping my voice low. "Why help me?"
Joon looked at me for a long second before answering. "Because you were wasting away. You've been rotting in a house that treats you like garbage. You needed a way out."
"That doesn't explain why you care."
"I don't," he replied quickly, bluntly. "But Sam does."
That name again.
"Is he always this generous with strangers?" I asked.
"No. Just with people he sees potential in. And unfortunately for you," Joon smirked, "he sees it in you."
I swallowed hard, unsure how to feel about that.
"Get used to it," Joon added. "Because if you're gonna work under Sam, everything about your old life gets stripped away. You're not that helpless kid anymore."
I nodded slowly.
Then Joon stood, fixing the collar of his black dress shirt. "Showtime in ten minutes. Stay behind me for now. Watch. Learn. Don't talk unless you need to. And if things get ugly..." He paused, looking me straight in the eyes. "Stay calm. You're not here to panic."
I didn't say anything.
He walked toward the stairs that led down to the main floor. I followed him, each step making my heart beat a little faster.
I didn't know what tonight would bring. But one thing was clear.
This was the beginning of something I couldn't walk away from.
The music pulsed through the club like a living heartbeat, lights swirling in sync with every beat drop, casting flickering shadows across the vast crowd below. I leaned on the railing of the upper level, overlooking everything with what I hoped passed as calm confidence. In truth, I was trying to stay focused, keep my breathing steady, and not look like a rookie on his first night.
Joon stood beside me, nursing a half-glass of wine like he'd been doing this for years—maybe he had. I still wasn't sure what his full deal was. All I knew was that he wasn't just some random guy in Sam's circle. He carried himself with a sharpness, a weight behind every word and action.
So far, the night had been smooth. Too smooth, even. Most of the early crowd were just there to dance, flirt, and drink. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was almost boring, honestly.
But something changed after midnight. I felt it before I saw it.
I don't know if it was instinct or just dumb luck, but my eyes locked on a guy near the far left corner of the dance floor. He was dressed a little too casually for the club's usual clientele, like he didn't care about the dress code. At first glance, he just looked like another partygoer. But then I noticed the way he moved—he wasn't dancing, just weaving through the crowd with purpose.
He leaned into a group of three, said something, then slipped something into a guy's hand.
I narrowed my eyes.
Another pass—this time, it looked like a small packet, palmed with practiced ease.
Drugs.
My chest tightened slightly. I glanced at Joon.
"Hey," I said, nudging him with my elbow. "Bottom left, near the bar. That guy. He's handing something off."
Joon didn't look at first. Just took another sip of wine, then exhaled slowly through his nose.
"I saw him," he said calmly. "Since he walked in."
"What?" I frowned. "Then why didn't you—"
"I wanted to see if you'd catch it," he said, turning his head to finally meet my gaze. "Test of focus. You passed."
I didn't know whether to be flattered or annoyed.
"So what now?" I asked.
"Now?" he smirked, setting his glass down. "Now you watch and learn."
He handed me a small wireless earpiece again, one he'd given earlier and I'd tucked in my pocket. I slipped it back into my ear. Joon tapped his own and spoke quietly into the mic.
"Eyes on me. No interference unless I say so."
With that, he moved, and I followed.
We made our way down the stairs and into the sea of bodies. Joon's posture didn't change, didn't stiffen. He walked like he belonged, like he wasn't about to confront a dealer in the middle of a high-end club.
He approached the man from the side, casually, like he was just another patron. They exchanged a few quiet words—I couldn't hear from this distance, but Joon's face never shifted. He kept that same calm, almost bored expression.
Whatever he said, it worked. The man stiffened slightly, then nodded. Joon gestured toward the back, and the man followed, glancing once over his shoulder.
I trailed behind them, my heart rate spiking with every step.
As we neared the back hallway, I started to get that itch again—the feeling you get when someone's watching you. Following you.
I resisted the urge to look around immediately. Instead, I waited until we reached the hallway leading to the staff exit. Then, as Joon pushed the door open and ushered the dealer out, I finally glanced back.
The cool night air hit my face the moment we stepped outside. Joon walked with calm authority, his hand on the dealer's shoulder, guiding him toward the far end of the alley. The dealer, wiry and twitchy, kept glancing back like a cornered rat.
Then Joon stopped, turned to face him, and spoke with a tone so casual it sent chills down my spine.
"You know whose territory this is, right? And you know you can't sell low-quality shit here, don't you? Or... did you not know that?"
The dealer's demeanor shifted instantly. His eyes darkened, jaw clenched. "Low quality?" he barked. "You're calling my product low quality?"
His voice echoed off the narrow alley walls.
Joon didn't flinch. He just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
The dealer scoffed and then, as if on cue, people began to appear.
First, four men emerged from the shadows near the back entrance of the club. I hadn't even noticed they were there.
Then, six more appeared from the other end of the alley, silhouettes against the faint glow of street lamps. They moved like they'd done this before — quiet, deliberate, unified.
Ten men. All eyes locked on us.
My pulse kicked up. My body tensed. This wasn't some petty drug bust anymore — this was about to turn into something else.
Joon, still as calm as ever, glanced sideways at me and muttered under his breath, "Stay close."
I didn't move. I was already scanning them. No weapons drawn — yet. But from the way a few of them had their hands in their jackets or the bulges under their shirts, I knew they weren't here for a polite conversation.
The dealer smirked, emboldened now with backup. "You sure you wanna talk to me like that, huh? Outnumbered ten to two?"
Joon exhaled, like this was nothing new.
He leaned in slightly and said, just loud enough for me to hear, "And this, kid, is why I told you to dress well. If we die tonight, at least we'll look good."
He grinned at his own joke.
I didn't.
My hands curled into fists. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I had no idea what was about to happen, but I had a feeling this night was far from over.
Joon didn't even flinch. He just glanced at me, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "So? What do you think? Can you handle them on your own?"
I looked at him, a little stunned. Was this a joke? A test?
He didn't clarify.
I exhaled slowly, nodding once. "I'll try."
Joon pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a flick of his lighter, and leaned against the wall. "Alright then. Let's see what you've got."
The first guy rushed me.
He came in fast, aiming a wild punch at my jaw. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist mid-swing, and twisted. He yelped in pain before I drove my knee into his gut. As he bent forward, I slammed his head against the wall. He crumpled.
No time to breathe.
Two more came at me together. I ducked under one's swing and swept his legs out. The other tried to grab me from behind, but I slammed my elbow into his ribs, then spun and elbowed his temple. He dropped.
A fourth lunged, this one smarter, trying to circle me. I let him. He thought he had the upper hand.
He didn't.
I timed it just right. When he threw his punch, I caught it, pulled him forward, and sent a straight jab into his throat. He gagged, stumbled back, and I knocked him out with a roundhouse kick.
I could hear murmurs from the others now. I was five men in, not a scratch on me.
But I felt it.
My body was heating up. Muscles burning. The adrenaline pumped harder.
Two more attacked.
One tried a tackle — I let him think he got me, then flipped him over my shoulder. Another swung a pipe. I blocked it with my forearm, wincing, then punched his face three times so fast he didn't even get a second swing. Blood splattered.
Seven down.
The last three hesitated.
I cracked my knuckles and tilted my head. "What are you waiting for? Let's go."
They looked at each other like they were reconsidering their life choices.
But peer pressure is a bitch.
All three charged me.
I ducked the first one and elbowed his chin. He stumbled. The second grabbed my shirt. I headbutted him and kicked his knee sideways. He went down screaming. The last guy was fast — but I was faster. I feinted left and landed a clean uppercut to his chin.
He spun and collapsed.
I stood there, chest rising and falling, surrounded by groaning bodies.
The dealer, now alone, took a shaky step back. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife.
My expression didn't change.
He held the blade up, his hands trembling. I could see he wasn't as confident anymore.
Then a car screeched to a stop at the alley's mouth. The headlights illuminated the scene like a stage. The back door opened, and out stepped Sam — clean-cut in a sharp suit — followed by another man.
The second man was older, more serious. He wore an expensive long coat and had a presence that silenced the alley instantly.
He looked at the dealer.
"That's enough."
The dealer froze. "Boss—"
The man raised a hand. "I said that's enough."
The dealer slowly lowered the knife. "Alright... fine."
I blinked. Boss? So this guy was the dealer's superior. But then — what the hell was Sam doing here too?
The older man looked around at the mess. "Gather your guys. We're leaving."
The dealer obeyed immediately, signaling to his groaning men. One by one, they limped out of the alley, some helping each other.
Sam said nothing. Just nodded once at me as he walked past with the older man.
Joon took one last drag from his cigarette before tossing it aside and exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"Well... Sam was right about you," he muttered.
I turned to him, still breathing hard. "You said I was just observing tonight. That doesn't feel like observing."
He grinned. "What, I can't test you a little? I had to see if you were all talk. Turns out... you're not."
I shook my head. "Next time, maybe warn me."
He laughed and clapped my shoulder. "Nah, where's the fun in that? Now come on. Let's get back inside."
I followed him in, heart still pounding.
Whatever this job really was — I was in it now, deeper than ever.
The music was pounding louder now, as if the club had fully come alive the moment midnight passed. The lights flashed in rhythmic bursts across the floor, illuminating waves of people who danced, swayed, drank, and laughed without a care. I stood at my usual post on the upper floor, leaning against the railing, eyes scanning the crowd like Joon taught me. No distractions, no slacking—even if things seemed calm. That was part of the job now.
Then I saw her.
At first, I wasn't even sure it was real. Maybe I was hallucinating from the heat and noise and fatigue, but there she was—Ningning. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, glowing golden under the lights. She was wearing something casual but stylish, something that didn't scream "celebrity," but her natural aura gave her away anyway. She was standing with another girl, a friend maybe, near the bar. They were laughing at something, heads close together, like the club was just another normal place to hang out.
My heart skipped a beat. What the hell was she doing here?
I blinked rapidly, trying to ground myself. Of all the people I'd expect to see tonight, Ningning was the last. I hadn't even got a reply from Karina's message yet—hell, I wasn't even sure what to say. But there Ningning was, standing in a place she absolutely shouldn't be, not without security or protection. Did she sneak out? Were the others with her?
She turned her head slightly, scanning the room casually—and her eyes landed on me.
Our eyes met.
Just for a second. Maybe not even that long. But it was enough to freeze time. The music, the people, the flashing lights—all of it faded into the background. Her smile faded into curiosity, then surprise. Recognition flickered in her gaze. I didn't know what my expression looked like, but I felt my throat tighten. Did she really remember me? Did she even think I'd be here?
She mouthed something, but I couldn't read her lips from this distance. I took a step forward instinctively, almost ready to call her name—then stopped myself. I couldn't. I wasn't supposed to.
Just then, my gut twisted. Something felt... off.
There was a man standing nearby—mid-thirties, tall, wearing a cheap suit that tried too hard to blend in with the club crowd. He didn't look like he belonged here. He wasn't drinking, wasn't dancing. He was watching. Watching Ningning.
My blood ran cold.
He took a step closer to her. Then another. My hands clenched the railing.
"Ningning..." I whispered under my breath.
She didn't notice the man behind her. Neither did her friend, who was too busy looking at her phone now. The man reached into his pocket. Not fast—casual. But I'd seen that motion before. I'd seen it during fights, during deals, during ambushes. He was trying to be smooth. That's what made it more dangerous.
Without thinking, I tapped the communicator in my ear.
"Joon," I said quickly, voice low. "There's a guy. Bar, left side, dark blue suit. He's tailing a girl. Might be a problem."
A moment passed.
"Approach quietly," Joon replied. "No drama. If he tries something, intervene."
"I'm moving," I said, already heading down the stairs.
My heart thudded harder with each step. Not from nerves. From urgency. From the thought of something happening to her.
The crowd was thick, but I slipped through them like a shadow, weaving between dancing bodies and stumbling drinkers. The closer I got, the clearer it became. The man wasn't just watching her—he was trying to approach her unnoticed, like a predator. He leaned in toward her friend first, maybe trying to get close enough to say something. Maybe trying to touch her.
I stepped between them.
"Hey," I said firmly, body angled toward Ningning but eyes locked on the man. "Can I help you?"
He froze. He hadn't seen me coming.
Ningning blinked in surprise behind me. "Y/N...?"
The man gave me a quick once-over, then forced a greasy smile.
"Just talking," he said, raising his hands slightly. "Didn't know that was a crime."
"She's not interested," I said calmly, but with weight behind each word. "Move along."
"She didn't say that," he argued, turning slightly toward her with the same fake smile. "Did you, sweetheart?"
I took one step forward, chest nearly touching his. "She doesn't have to say it. I said it."
He scowled now, trying to gauge if I was bluffing. But I wasn't. Not tonight.
He muttered something under his breath, glanced around, and finally backed off. He gave Ningning one last look, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.
I turned back slowly. Ningning's eyes were wide, flicking between me and the space where the man had just been.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice softer now.
She nodded slowly, still processing. "I... Yeah. He didn't do anything. He just came up and stood way too close."
"That's how it starts," I muttered.
Her friend finally looked up from her phone, confused. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Ningning said quickly. "Everything's fine now."
I stepped back a little, unsure if I should stay longer. I didn't want to get her in trouble. Or myself. But Ningning stepped closer.
"Why are you here?" she asked, voice low. "Are you... working here?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. I started recently."
Her face softened. "You look... different."
I gave a faint smile. "New clothes. Haircut. Boss wants me to look 'less like a sad ghost.'"
That made her laugh, just a little. But her smile faded quickly. "We've been trying to find you. Karina especially. She wanted to thank you."
"I figured," I said. "But it's... complicated."
She bit her lip, looking like she wanted to ask more. But the tension in the air was growing. Too many people. Too many eyes. And I'd already broken protocol just by talking to her.
"I should go," I said. "You shouldn't be here either, honestly."
She sighed. "I know. I just needed a night out. Things have been... a lot."
I nodded. "Be careful. Seriously."
"I will," she said. Then added, quietly, "Thanks... again."
I didn't answer. I just turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd before I did something stupid like ask her to stay
The night dragged on, the usual rhythm returning after that tense moment earlier. I went back to my usual routine—watching the floor, rotating between the exits, checking on people who had too much to drink, staying alert for the smallest shifts in energy.
But even as the minutes passed, my mind wasn't fully in it anymore. I kept thinking about her. About how close that guy got. About how lucky it was I spotted him in time. About how Ningning looked at me afterward—not like an idol looking at a stranger, but like someone trying to remember something important.
I stood near the side railing again, half-watching the floor, half-thinking. And that's when I felt it—someone standing just a little too close.
I turned instinctively.
It was her again.
Ningning stood right beside me now, holding a half-empty drink, a soft expression on her face. Her friend was nowhere to be seen.
"You're still not dancing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She smiled lightly. "I came here to unwind, but now I just feel like talking."
"Talking to a bouncer, huh?" I said with a smirk. "That's a new way to relieve stress."
She rolled her eyes, playfully. "I wanted to say thank you. For earlier. You really helped."
I shrugged, trying not to let the compliment stick too hard. "It's nothing. It's my job, anyway."
"You sure?" she asked, tilting her head. "Are you... really just working security?"
The question made me pause.
I didn't want to lie, but I also didn't want to drag her into this world—not any more than she already was.
"Yeah," I said simply. "Just helping out with security. Watching the floor. Dealing with drunk idiots. Guys trying to take advantage of women, like what happened earlier."
She nodded slowly, taking it in.
"Makes sense," she said. "You did look like you knew what you were doing."
I gave a faint smile. "Had some practice."
She studied me for a second. Then, more hesitantly, she asked, "Did you... ever get Karina's message?"
My breath caught for half a second.
"Yeah," I replied. "She give me her number the other day. I sent her a message the same day."
Ningning's face lit up a little—but only for a moment.
"She didn't reply?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. It's been over a day."
She frowned slightly. "That's weird. She was really determined to find you. She even dragged winter out near your store. They went looking for you together."
I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"She felt guilty," Ningning said. "Like she didn't get to thank you properly. And she couldn't stop thinking about you."
My chest tightened slightly. "But she never replied."
Ningning hesitated, then suddenly her expression changed—realization dawning.
"Oh! Right. Our schedule's been brutal lately. Back-to-back shoots, rehearsals, meetings. I barely even touch my phone sometimes. Karina's probably the same. It's not that she's ignoring you or anything. I think she just hasn't seen your message."
I nodded slowly. That made sense. They were idols. Busy 24/7. People always expecting something from them.
"It's fine," I said, brushing it off. "She doesn't have to reply."
Ningning tilted her head. "You're not mad?"
"No," I said. "She's an idol. I'm just a regular guy working in a place like this. I never expected anything anyway."
She looked at me for a long moment. Something softened in her eyes.
"That's not true," she said quietly.
I blinked. "What?"
"You're not just some regular guy," she said. "You've saved us. More than once. You save us when we at the store. Then you helped us again during the alley incident with Karina and Winter. And now you helped me. That's three times."
I looked away, unsure what to say to that.
She smiled again. "If anything, you've got better instincts than most bodyguards we've worked with."
I chuckled under my breath. "I doubt that."
"I don't," she said seriously. "You're calm. Fast. And... kind."
The last word hung in the air.
I cleared my throat. "You don't even know me."
She leaned slightly against the wall beside me. "Maybe not fully. But I know what I saw. And how you made me feel safe."
I tried to play it off. "Maybe you girls just attract trouble. That's why I keep running into you girls."
She laughed. "Maybe. But I'm glad it was you every time."
I felt the smallest warmth spread through my chest. She wasn't flirting exactly—but she wasn't being casual either. There was something genuine in her tone.
Then she added, in a lighter tone, "You actually look... kinda handsome tonight."
I blinked, caught completely off guard.
"What?"
She giggled. "I mean it. You look different. In a good way. Like... boyfriend material."
I choked on air. "Boyfriend material?"
She laughed harder now, covering her mouth. "I'm just saying what I see."
I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. "You're the first idol to ever say that to me."
"Well, get used to it," she said with a wink. "You're better looking than you think."
I shook my head, smiling awkwardly. "I'm nothing special. You probably meet dozens of handsome guys every week."
"Sure," she said, "but good looks don't always come with a good heart."
That caught me off guard.
"What makes you think I have a good heart?" I asked.
She turned to face me more directly. "You didn't have to help us. Not once. But you did—every single time. No cameras, no praise, no benefit. Just... instinct."
I looked down at my hands. At the faint bruises still lingering from earlier fights. "You girls just have a habit of going out without protection. That's all."
Ningning laughed again. "What's the fun of going out with a manager breathing down your neck the whole time? You can't do anything. No drinking, no dancing, no talking to anyone. It's suffocating."
"You're an idol," I said gently. "They do that to protect your image. And your safety."
She sighed. "I know. But sometimes I just want to feel like a normal person again. Even just for one night."
I nodded in understanding. I wasn't an idol—but I knew what it was like to wish for a life you couldn't have.
Before either of us could say more, her friend reappeared from the crowd.
"Hey," she said, nudging Ningning's arm. "We should go. It's getting late."
Ningning glanced at me, like she wasn't quite ready to leave.
She turned to her friend. "Just one second."
Then she looked back at me. "Can I have your number?"
I stared at her for a beat. I wasn't expecting that.
"You... want my number?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling. "I'd like to keep in touch."
I didn't even hesitate. I pulled out my phone, tapped it open, and handed it to her. She entered her number and texted herself from my phone.
"There," she said. "Now you have mine too."
I gave her a small smile. "Thanks."
She stepped back, eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer. "Bye, Y/N. Take care, okay?"
"You too," I said.
And just like that, she was gone—vanishing back into the pulsing lights and crowd.
I exhaled slowly, staring at the spot where she'd stood. Then I shook my head and turned back to my post.
Time to work.
But this time... I was smiling.
The rest of the night passed quietly. After that incident with Ningning and the creep, things calmed down a lot. No fights. No more shady guys. No drunks causing chaos. Just the hum of music, the flashing lights, and the crowd slowly thinning out as the night wore on.
By the time the last beat faded and the final group of clubgoers stumbled out into the cold morning air, it was already 7:00 AM. The lights in the club brightened, making the place look less glamorous and more... exhausted. The bartenders were packing up, the staff was disappearing into the back, and I found myself heading toward the alley behind the club where Joon usually went for his smoke breaks.
Sure enough, there he was—sitting on a worn-out plastic chair, one leg resting over the other, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. He looked relaxed, like a man who had seen too much to be bothered by anything anymore.
I walked over and slumped into the chair next to him.
"Yo," he greeted without looking at me.
"Yo," I replied.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. "Smoke?"
I shook my head. "I don't smoke."
He nodded. "Good for you."
He took a long drag, then blew the smoke out slowly as he stared at the rising sun. There was a long silence between us before he spoke again.
"Good job tonight. For your first day, you handled things well."
I leaned back against the cold brick wall, smirking a little. "This job's way too easy. Beat up ten guys, kicked out a pervert... and now it's morning. Doesn't even feel like I did much."
Joon laughed—low and raspy. "Didn't do much, he says. Ten guys and you're still standing like nothing happened."
He laughed again, shaking his head. "You're different, man. Most people would still be lying on the floor."
I shrugged. "Just saying. No challenge at all."
He gave me a sideways glance. "Oh? So you want something more challenging?"
I didn't answer right away. The tone in his voice shifted slightly—calm but laced with something else. Like he was testing the waters. Or maybe warning me. I looked straight ahead, keeping my voice cool.
"I don't really care. If something harder comes, I'll deal with it."
He didn't say anything, just nodded slowly like he was filing that answer away in his head.
I took a breath. "That guy from last night—the one handing out stuff in the corner. Who is he?"
Joon flicked the ash off his cigarette. "Small-time dealer. He doesn't make the drugs. He just moves them."
I frowned. "Then what's he doing with Sam?"
Joon gave a small, knowing smile. "That... you don't need to know. Not yet."
That answer stuck with me. Not yet. It meant I will—but only when they decide I'm ready, or when I'm too deep to back out.
I gave a short nod. "Alright."
He stood up, crushing the cigarette beneath his shoe. "You're done for the night. Text the same driver who dropped you off yesterday. He'll take you home."
I pulled out my phone and quickly messaged the driver.
"Finished for the night. Can you pick me up?"
His reply came almost instantly.
"Okay, sir. On my way."
Efficient guy.
I turned back to Joon. "What time am I supposed to come in tonight?"
"Just keep your phone close," he said, stretching his arms lazily. "I'll text you when I need you."
I nodded again. "Got it."
I started walking out of the alley, the cold morning breeze hitting my face as I stepped onto the empty street. The city was slowly waking up—streetlights flickering off, tired workers heading toward subways, birds chirping quietly overhead.
I stopped and looked up at the fading stars, breathing in deep. The air tasted like smoke, sweat, and something else I couldn't name.
Last night was... surreal.
One moment I was jobless and beaten half to death by a drunk foster father. The next, I was in some underground club, fighting off ten guys, catching the eye of an idol, and somehow... getting her number.
It didn't make sense.
But for the first time in a long time, life felt... different.
Not easier.
Just... alive.
And that scared me more than anything.
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KARINA'S POV
It was around 3 a.m. when I suddenly woke up with a dry throat. Groaning softly, I sat up in bed and blinked at the clock on the nightstand. Ugh... too early. But my thirst wasn't going to let me go back to sleep, so I lazily dragged myself out of bed and shuffled my way toward the kitchen.
The whole dorm was quiet, the kind of stillness that makes even the sound of your own footsteps feel loud. I opened the fridge, took out a bottle of water, and leaned against the counter as I drank straight from it.
Click.
The front door opened.
I froze mid-sip. My heart skipped. Who the hell was coming in at this hour?
"Unnie?"
I nearly dropped the bottle. "Yah!" I hissed, turning to the door.
It was Ningning.
Relief washed over me, and I exhaled. "You scared me half to death."
Ningning giggled, kicking off her shoes and walking in like it was the most normal thing in the world to be returning at 3 a.m.
"You're not asleep yet?" she asked, noticing me in the kitchen.
"I was, but I woke up thirsty," I said, setting the bottle down. "You—don't tell me—you're just getting back?"
She gave a sheepish smile, scratching her head like a guilty teenager caught sneaking in past curfew. "Yeah... I didn't realize it got so late."
I crossed my arms and gave her a look. "It's 3 a.m. What were you doing out this late, young lady?"
She pouted. "Sorry, unnie... I just lost track of time."
She plopped down on the kitchen stool next to me like a kid about to confess something.
"Guess who I ran into tonight," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.
I squinted at her. "Ningning, it's literally 3 a.m. Please don't start playing guessing games with me now."
"Come on, just one guess!"
I groaned. "What, you saw a ghost?"
She burst out laughing. "Nooo~ I saw him."
I blinked. "Him?"
She leaned forward with a cheeky smile. "Y/N. I ran into Y/N at the club."
My eyes widened instantly. "Wait—what?! You went to a club? With who? And how did you end up running into him there?"
Ningning raised her hands as if to calm me down. "Relax, unnie, I just went with a friend. Just wanted to blow off some stress, you know? And then suddenly, I saw him there. He was working."
I stared at her. "Working? At a club?"
"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "He said he's working as a security guard now. And, unnie... he actually helped me earlier. There was this creepy guy that was trying to get too close, and Y/N stepped in before anything happened. He chased the guy off."
My brows furrowed. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing happened, really. I was lucky he was there."
I let out a slow breath. Thank God. Still, the thought of Ningning getting into that kind of situation made me uneasy. I didn't say anything though. I knew she hated when I got too protective.
"Anyway," she continued, "Y/N told me you didn't reply to his message."
I bit my lip. The guilt crept in like a wave crashing over me.
"It's not that I didn't want to reply..." I said softly. "I was going to. At first I forgot, and then the next day I told myself I'd do it after practice, but our schedule just got so packed. One thing after another, and by the time I remembered, it felt like too much time had passed. I didn't know what to say."
Ningning just nodded, like she understood. "Well... I think you should still reply, unnie. He looked like he was waiting. Like he hoped you would."
I looked away, not sure what to say to that. Before I could come up with anything, she leaned in closer and grinned.
"Oh—and unnie... he looks good now."
I blinked. "Huh?"
"I'm serious," she giggled. "He cut his hair, he was dressed way better, like... wayyy better. He looked really clean and sharp. Honestly... pretty handsome. Like boyfriend material."
I nearly choked on my own breath. "Yah, stop it," I said, swatting at her arm.
She laughed and stood up from the stool. "I'm just saying. Maybe you should've come with me tonight."
"Go take a shower," I said, rolling my eyes. "You reek."
"Fine, fine~" she said, skipping toward her room. But just before she disappeared down the hallway, she turned around and added with a wink, "Unnie... you should really see him for yourself. He's not the same anymore."
"Yizhuo!" I shouted, half embarrassed, half flustered.
She squealed and dashed into her room, laughing all the way.
I stood alone in the kitchen for a moment, staring at the empty hallway where she'd just vanished.
"...Y/N," I murmured under my breath.
I walked slowly back to my room and sat on my bed. I picked up my phone from the nightstand and stared at his message, still unread from days ago. My thumb hovered over it.
Tomorrow.
I'll reply to him tomorrow.
With that silent promise, I set the phone down, pulled the blanket over myself, and lay back on my pillow. But no matter how hard I tried to fall asleep again... the image of his face that Ningning described stayed etched in my mind
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Hello guys... I want to ask something.. and i kinda need you guys feedback on the stories.. Is it way to slow or is it way too fast? And one more thing i would like to ask which one do you prefer more words but im updating like 3-4 day or less word but update daily.. Thanks in advance..