(Y/N) tugged a strand of (H/C) hair behind her (pierced/nonpierced) ear, a familiar gesture of frustration. It felt like the hundredth time she’d adjusted it that day.
“ (Y/N)!” A chipper voice called from across the courtyard. She turned to see Lindsay, a recent transplant from America, bouncing toward her with golden ringlets bouncing.
“Hi… Lindsay…” she forced a smile. Lindsay had latched onto her almost immediately upon arriving, drawn by her status as the school’s queen bee.
Admittedly, she hadn’t even realized she *was* the queenka until others told her. She didn’t mind the title, as long as it didn’t require conforming to the stereotypical image. She just wanted to be herself and be kind.
The biggest drawback of the queenka role was the inevitable pressure to couple with Jeon Jungkook, the current kingka.
And to say the least, she had no interest in the boy.
“What’re you doing out here?” Lindsay asked, looping her arm through hers. Lindsay was sweet, genuinely wanting to make friends after moving here. It was *how* she went about it that bothered her.
“Walking?”
Lindsay nodded, her mouth forming an ‘o’ as she led her toward the school, tapping furiously on her phone. She stopped abruptly, turning to her.
“Thalia is having a small get-together tonight. We’re going.”
“I really don’t—” she started, glancing down at her scuffed shoes. It was Friday, but she had no desire to go to a party, even a small one.
“I already told her you’d be there. Besides, Jungkook will be there~!” Lindsay looped her arms tighter and pulled her along. She sighed, falling into step.
Now she’d be stuck at a party with the one person she actively avoided.
Yet, a small part of her couldn’t deny a flicker of curiosity.
A part of her was, admittedly, excited to see Jeon Jungkook.
××××
“Lindsay, what is this?” she demanded, staring at her reflection. She was wearing a short black satin slip dress, the neckline plunging far too low and the hemline scandalously short. It left little to the imagination.
But Jungkook would be there.
Wait, she didn’t care what Jeon Jungkook thought of her, did she? It shouldn’t matter.
Right? Right?
Lindsay stepped behind her, pulling her (H/C) hair into a ponytail of soft waves, securing it with bobby pins. At least her hair would stay put. Couldn’t have her queenka image ruined by a bad hair day.
(Note the sarcasm.)
“Alright. You look hot.”
“Thanks, Lindsay.”
“Anytime. Now let’s go. Thalia texted me. Only eight people showed up.” Lindsay tugged her toward the door. She stumbled after her, too late to bolt.
Unfortunately, Thalia lived next door. She was forced to walk, dreading the impending disaster of tripping in Lindsay’s heels.
As they approached Thalia’s house, she noticed the soft hum of music and dimmed lights. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the sheer dread of what was to come. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and go home. She could be asleep right now.
Instead, she was heading to a tiny party.
Lindsay pushed open Thalia’s front door, whooping as they entered. Thalia emerged from the kitchen, a cup of orange liquid in one hand, her phone in the other. Her eyes landed on her, and she winked suggestively.
“Oh how Jungkook would love to get with—”
“Thalia!” a voice shouted from across the living room. She turned to see eight guests lounging around the room, several pairs of eyes lingering on her. But she was distracted by one pair of dark brown eyes staring from across the room.
He was propped against the mantle, one arm draped loosely over his bent knee. He wore a white tee and black jeans with his signature Timberlands, yet he still managed to capture her attention in a way that confused, repulsed, and intrigued her.
“What?” Thalia asked innocently, taking a sip of her drink. She wrinkled her nose, leaning back on one shaky heel, trying to distance herself from the substance. She wasn’t a fan of underage drinking.
Funny how a “goody” like her had been crowned queenka, and not Thalia or Lindsay.
Then again, many people in her school weren’t fans of foreigners, like them.
She personally couldn’t care less.
“We’re playing Spin The Bottle.” a girl answered meekly, glancing at Jungkook.
A strange feeling bubbled in her stomach, then vanished. She shrugged it off and scooted closer to the doorway.
“Ooh! Okay! (Y/N), go sit by your kingka~!” Thalia pushed her toward Jungkook. Heat flooded her face, skillfully masked by Lindsay’s thick layer of makeup.
She sat beside Jungkook, deliberately positioning herself as close to the wall as politely possible. Every rational thought in her head screamed to stay as far away from him as possible, but her heart said otherwise.
You’ll just get hurt by him.
He’s a notorious player, you know that.
You’re better than this, (Y/N).
She was so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed the game had started minutes ago. A warm hand gripped her upper arm, snapping her back to reality. She glanced down to see Jungkook’s hand wrapped around her arm, his warm eyes meeting hers.
“What?” she asked, ignoring the cliché electric sparks that flared through her veins. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she managed to maintain a stony mask.
“Truth or dare?” one of Jungkook’s friends—Jimin—asked, pointing the bottle directly at her. She blinked, realizing it was Spin the Bottle/Truth or Dare.
“Dare.” She stated, wary of what Park Jimin would try to make her confess. He, like Lindsay, was determined to push her and Jungkook together.
“I dare you to give Jungkook a hickey.” He cackled, smirking. She froze, wide-eyed.
“Or else what?” She recoiled from the shock.
“Or else Jungkook has to give you one,” Lindsay answered for Jimin. She glared at her, silently demanding which side she was on.
She looked over at Jungkook to see an emotionless expression on his face as he stared at her. But some emotion she didn't recognize danced in his dark eyes.
Her reluctance was apparently permission. Jimin pushed Jungkook’s head into the crook of her neck.
Instead of pulling away, Jungkook remained there, pressing his lips against her neck. She shivered under him, her hands trembling in her lap. Sparks of pleasure and emotion danced across her skin where his lips met her flesh. She instinctively reached up and knotted her fingers in his soft hair. All her previous distaste for Jeon Jungkook vanished.
Too soon, Jungkook pulled away, examining the purple mark he’d left above her collarbone. She looked down, embarrassed. She'd thought he actually wanted to see her.
She stood and speedwalked out of the room, ignoring the stares that followed her as she entered the farthest bathroom. She shut the door behind her, sinking down beside it.
A frenzy of emotions bombarded her.
Did she like Jeon Jungkook?
Was she willing to admit she’d fallen for the school’s kingka and player?
Not openly.
Soft knocking echoed through the tiny bathroom. The door opened. She didn’t protest, staring at the vanity.
“If you’re here to make fun of me, don’t bother. I get it.” She mumbled, closing her eyes.
“Nah.” A familiar voice said. She opened her eyes and looked up.
“Oh. Jungkook.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, surprising her. Was this the real Jungkook?
He slid down against the vanity, studying her like a museum artifact.
“I’m fine.”
“What happened out there—”
“Doesn’t mean anything. Don’t worry, I won’t brag.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“Yes, you were.”
“(Y/N)!”
She flinched, staring at Jungkook. He snapped at her.
“I was going to say it wasn’t meaningless. Not to me. But if you feel otherwise, that’s fine.” He began to get up, intent on leaving her alone.
Finally, her senses kicked in. She grabbed his wrist. His body went rigid, his eyes immediately meeting hers.
“Please stay?”
He sat down beside her, releasing his wrist, his hand covering hers.
“I’m willing to try and make this work.”
He laughed, using his free hand to cup her cheek.
“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for years.”