filled with beautiful people
I need a night of provocation

The lights around us seemed to dance. It was heaven, almost, people didn't stare, everyone laughed, everyone was a little bit crazy.

"You'll get more used to it as we go along," Seulgi purred in my ear, her breath tickling my skin. Her hand stayed at the small of my back, barely touching it, but an invisible force seemed to connect me to her.

I looked around, marvelling at the toxic beauty of it all. "Why have you brought me here?"

She smirked against my neck. "Into the thick of things, hm?" She mused aloud. "Well, it seems as if this is just what you need."

Again, I closed my eyes and breathed her in, all of her sweet and smoke and burned rubber.

"What do you think goes on behind closed doors?" She whispered, voice sweet and seductive in my ear. "Who do you think, out of all of us, has the most bloody hands?"

I shook my head.

"I don't know, either," she said. "No one does, not even the one who is the person in question. Because everyone is secretive, every achievement is hidden. You're the only one who could be proud of what you have done, the only one guilty of the heart you have ripped in two."

Ripped in two. What if a heart was ripped in more than two?

She spun me, and the lights shone and twinkled like stars. Her forehead was against mine, her nose just touching the tip of mine, her beautiful eyes, slanting to an end, staring into mine.

"Everyone here is notorious for something, Y/N, no one is a good person." Maybe her earlier speech had been to prepare me, because her words didn't cut as deep as they could have. "Don't believe sweet smiles. They may be nice, but the core is rotten."

"I know that, and yet," I breathed out. Maybe the extent to which this was true wasn't what she might expect, but I did. And for the first time, instead of considering myself better off oblivious, I wanted to know more. "Tell me."

Her voice lifted into a higher pitch, a delighted laugh, and she pressed her body against me, hot in some places and cold in some. "Tell you what?"

"Everything," I said. My voice was becoming breather and lighter, as if I was losing control over myself. The atmosphere had so much smoke, so many drugs, that I wondered whether the effect was as potent as to incapacitate even a bystander like myself.

Seulgi smiled at me, a wicked smile. "Whom should I start with, hm?" Her finger traced the line of my jaw, the bridge of my nose. "Baekhyun with his enigmatic persona, his unknown origins, his doubtful loyalties? About how he always delivers without questions without complaint?" Her tone was playful, and I bit my lip at the feeling of it slithering over my skin. "Maybe, since he seems so much like you in that respect."

Something about that last implication, about how something about him was familiar, clawed at the back of my mind. But no, she had already set the ball into motion, and I was running after it like a domesticated cat.

"Or, perhaps, I should tell you about Park Jinyoung." Her smile was there, just out of reach. "His bloodthirst, how he always goes headfirst into the thick of things, and yet, somehow, always comes back victorious. Possessive, vindictive, passionate."

Jinyoung's wild smile. We've got them. Had they? How willing had he been to leave me behind, the blunt, bizzare boy?

Words pulled at me and dug into my skin, impatience crawling into the previous peaceful state of my mind. "Tell me more."

Yes, finally, I was able to get some answers. Something I had wanted to know, even if it was just a little bit, but it had hurt for so long as I hadn't even realised that the emptiness in my memory was painful until her silky voice relieved it, like a balm.

The thrist in me was growing, ripping me apart from the inside. More, I thought. Give me more.

If I can truly have everything I want, give me more.

"And yes, there's the beautiful Kim Jennie," she whispered in my ear, like crinkling onionskin paper and spilling ink from leaking cartridges. Leaking secrets. "The haughty, the cold, the ungratefully desirable. She always gets the job done, and rarely does she care about what else there is to the matter."

I thought about the way Jennie's lips had curled at my shock over the revelation of Baekhyun, the almost bored blandness of her pretty voice. Yes, I could certainly imagine it.

"Taehyung and his brother, Jimin," Seulgi continued. Whether or not she noticed the rapid flitting of expressions across my face, I didn't know, for she didn't say. But she didn't stop. "One so broad and bold, the other slender and sly. Taehyung, with his raw power and the fire in his eyes, his silk-like husky voice and the way he never cares what's his and what isn't—for him, it's all too disposable." She chuckled.

The taste in my mouth was dry, so was my palate and the surface of my tongue; rough, like sandpaper or maybe sand itself. Taehyung, with his hot mouth on mine and his kiss, with no holding back.

"Jimin, of course, is similar, but in a smaller, less invasive way." Her voice took on something like contemplation, maybe rememberance. "There was someone he was loyal to, once, a beautiful boy, but he's gone now, and he runs rampant. Always wanting, always giving, always getting." She shook her head. "They may not have the same blood, but brothers, they are."

A beautiful boy, but he's gone now.

Questions crowded in my thoughts, but I closed my mind against them. Not now. Not yet.

"Lee Minhyuk." She smiled, an amused smile this time. I was fascinated by her smile, the million different ways the same smile could express her emotions. "He's the best of us, practically untouched. Joined for the money, stayed for the cars, but he refuses to ever make himself truly one of us." Her words are curious. "The youngest, maybe the wisest. Too good for us."

Even though she doesn't say it, I hear the undertone in her voice. Too good for you.

"And what about him?" I asked, surprised to find my voice tiny, so hesitant. "Vernon?"

Seulgi looked at me, her eyes searching and quizzical, then the smile on her face widened. "Oh, I can tell you've got a special spot for him." She laughed. "But perhaps, he's the worst of us."

Her casual, by final statement sent a jolt through me. I blinked—the lights still swam, like Vernon's sweet smile behind my eyelids and his kiss still lingering on my forehead.

"How?" I whispered.

"Sees, but never says. Knows, but never asks. The most hidden out of all of us, the closest to the core." She paused, fixing her glittering eye on me. "It seems impossible to fathom, I know. But there's so much more you can observe about him. The fact that he can stay so exposed to all of this and still smile so bright should say something."

I swallowed, and she led me to the bar, gesturing to me to sit down on one of the barstools. The seat was cushiony, but my lower back seemed to ache from the tiredness that set in once again deep in my bones.

"Don't be so surprised, honey, do you really think it matters what he's like?" She arched a perfect, dark eyebrow. "Aren't you like that, too?"

It seemed like a punch to the gut, posion burning away the inside of my to chat and gray ash. "I..." She studied me as I spoke, the curve of her lips reminding me of a sharpened scythe. "I'm exhausted."

"Oh, I know, honey," she said, waving at someone, a bartender, maybe. "It's all in your eyes. So, so dark."

Ignoring her subtle jab, I closed my eyes and leaned my elbows against the counter, covering my ears. The noise was suddenly too much, too loud, and cold fear like ice rose in my chest.

"I know exactly what you need," she stated, sliding something across to me over the cool surface of the bar's top.

"A drink?" I lifted my head, staring into the colorless, shimmering surface of the liquid in the glass in front of me. "Seriously?"

"It does wonders, and it's not like you have to take one every other minute," she reasoned, shrugging as she accepted her own share.

I caged the small vessel by my fingers, lifting it to eye level.

Exactly what you need.

It was down in a single gulp, such was telling quantity. It seemed tasteless, a little bitter, but nothing more, nothing less, far from a solution to my exhaustion.

I made a face, setting down the glass heavily. "What was that?" I frowned, wiping the back of my hand against my mouth. "It tasted like crap."

She laughed. "It takes about twenty minutes to half an hour to take effect, so yes. Don't worry, though," she said, looking at me sideways. "Time works differently around here."

I closed my eyes, again, pressing my palms to them and sighing. My head seemed to swim, but maybe some of the drink—whatever it was, since I'd never had a lot of any intoxicant—was starting to take effect. I felt sharper, somehow, more focused despite my tired state.

I thought back to Seulgi's words, the long ribbons of description worked into names and characters.

"You forgot someone," I said.

"Hm?" She looked at me, cocking her vaguely to the side. She had a drink in her hand, too, though it was a little more than what I'd just had.

"When you were—" I gestured vaguely. "When you were describing everyone."

"I did?"

I hesitated. Not for too much, but long enough for her to raise an eyebrow. "The Stingray. Lee Taeyong."

Her eyebrows crept up higher, and I tried to keep my expression nonchalant. I wasn't sure why, but my instincts told me to hide any association I might have with him. To think of all our interactions in retrospect felt different, when I realized that no one had ever really seen us talking, save for that one first time when I rode with him for my first race.

His words from the cliff came back to me, about how being with him would mean punishment. Why? But I obeyed the instructions anyway.

"To be honest," Seulgi spoke, voice housing a little bemusement and surprise, "I don't know."

I frowned. Not knowing about him, about any of the racers, seemed implausible. Which meant that he wasn't a part of them, part of the inner circle. I fell silent.

It felt like hours had passed, and instead of waning, my energy and restlessness had only grown. Maybe it was the thought of—of him, but everything seemed colder to touch, and my mouth was drier, hands and legs almost trembling.

Seulgi only smiled.

"Hey." I looked up at the new voice, finding Minhyuk looking down at me with a confused look on his face. Something about him was different, though I didn't understand how, exactly—but the air around him had changed, maybe because of my conversation with Seulgi. "I thought they'd let you rest for once."

His eyes cut to her for a split second, then back to me. I licked my lips against the dryness, getting up and shaking my head to myself as I put my hands on his shoulders.

She had this smile on her face, and Minhyuk's pupils dilated. There was a drink in one of his hands, I noticed—he set it down on the counter, slowly, and then looked back at me. His face—there was almost fear etched on it, even as I grinned.

"Surprisingly, I don't feel so tired now." I frowned a little. "Actually, I feel pretty...energetic. Like I just had a shot of caffeine."

"Yeah, you do look the part," he said, lightly touching my arm. His words are stilted, unsure, and a small frown marrs his young-looking face. He's the best of us.

Suddenly, surprisingly, a surge of gratefulness rises in me at the sight of him. About all the warnings before I actually started spending more time around the place, about his offhand replies to everything. Minhyuk had always, always been the one to cave in to what I wanted.

Even now, his gaze held mine steadily. There was a question behind his warm brown eyes, still asking for my permission, asking me whether I was okay with being here in the midst of such people.

Too good for you.

What exactly helped the rising rebellious energy in me, I wasn't sure, but I moved closer to him, acting on nothing but a gut feeling. It was as if everyone had disappeared around us, the world was blank, and the only thing that existed was him.

What did I want to prove? That he wasn't too good for me, even if deep down, I knew it was true? Seulgi's careless whisper had provoked me, and why the feeling rose only at the sight of him, I didn't understand. And I didn't want to.

He ignored this, the flurry of emotions behind my eyes. But there was an almost childlike innocence behind him, hesitation, embarrassment at how close we were. The youngest.

What do you want to prove?

"Look at me," I whispered, and his eyes widened by a fraction. Too good for you. My jaw tightened.

I kissed him.

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if you're confused about that last part, don't worry. you're supposed to be lol

and a little heads-up: you're not ready for next chapter ;)