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As it turns out, Suga is the least of my problems when it comes down to the MMAs.

So, here’s how it is. I’m just walking along the corridor, not bothering anybody else, when I find myself suddenly face-planting the floor.

To make matters worse, the trip-up means that I drop the two cups of coffee I was carrying.

This means that hot brown coffee then decides to soak into my lovely, just washed, practically new, white shirt.

I lie there for a few seconds, crushed.

What did I ever do to her?

“Oh, did you fall, Mina?” asks the snide voice from above me. “That is a shame. Now you’re right below my feet. Where you belong.”

I swear, one of these days-

“I’d give you a hand up, but I have much more important things to be doing. You know, because I actually have a job. And because people actually want me around.”

I want to slam my head against a wall.

As it turns out, that’s sort of what I end up doing. I return to a once again empty dressing room, slump into a makeup chair, and hit my head against the table. Multiple times. Suga has now become a “fun” problem. Nari is the real issue.

I hear someone come in, but seeing as I don’t really have an actual job anymore, I have now stopped caring. I glance up to see him in the corner of the mirror. Since he already knows about everything – since I’ve already managed to spill all of my damn problems – I continue to slam my forehead against the tabletop.

I sense a hand near my shoulder, which reappears and disappears many times before settling there. He pats my shoulder several times, and I stop – resting my head on the table instead. I believe that I am past the point of crying by now. I instead wish to approach Nari and tell her to, “Fight me, b-”

“Has she said something again?” he asks, his deep voice suddenly dark.

“Why are you here?” I mutter. I’m done with him being confusing and pretending to care.

“Tell me,” he demands, “If she’s done something to you-”

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” I tell him, spinning around in the chair to face him. His hand is flung from my shoulder. “It’s not like you care anyway.”

“Well maybe-” he cuts himself off, finding it difficult to meet my eyes.

As much as I would like to fight Nari, it would definitely mean sacrificing my job, and that’s not something I’m in the position to do right now. There’s nothing Suga can do either, so he should probably stop trying.

Then he sees my shirt.

“Did she trip you?” he asks with a frown. “That is completely uncalled for. I should-”

“Suga, stop,” I tell him firmly. “Yes, I tripped up. Yes, it was her fault. And yes – I now have coffee all over my shirt. But there’s nothing either of us can do about it, so stop pretending to care and go get on stage.”

His gaze hardens, and suddenly he’s grabbing my hand and dragging me through a series of other rooms. I try to set myself free from his grasp, but his grip is too tight. He’s too determined. And I don’t have the slightest clue why. Remember:

“Forget that ever happened.”

Yeah – that. Why is he caring all of a sudden? And why can’t he just leave me and my feelings alone? My heart is racing and he’s just holding my hand... rather roughly at that.

“Suga, let me go-”

“Shut up, Mina.”

“Hey-!”

That’s when he shuts the door to another dressing room, and we’re alone inside. It’s a slightly smaller room than the one that BTS have been allocated, and I wonder who it belongs to. I also wonder why he’s brought me here, and what will happen if the artists situated here decide to return.

“Hey,” I say, “Stop being all...”

“All what?”

“Nothing. Just tell me why we’re here, please?”

He shrugs and starts looking through piles of spare clothes that are in a box in the corner of the room. All of this feels strangely like déjà vu. It reminds me of the time that I brought him lunch, split it, and he took me to get a new shirt. But that was in the peaceful days before Nari arrived, and before things got awkward between me and him.

“Here,” he says, tossing a clean shirt at me, which lands on my face, “Put this on.”

He turns his back whilst I switch shirts. At least he’s kind of decent, I suppose. I change into a shirt that is way too short and sparkly and shows too much. I fix Suga with a glare.

“What?” he says in his own defence.

“Couldn’t you find one...” I don’t know the word for ‘glittery’ which stops me short, “...a little bigger?”

“That’s all that was in there,” says Suga gruffly. “Be more grateful. It’s not like you look bad in it anyway.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “What was that?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he answers, and ushers me towards the door.

“Hey,” I say, my back against the door to stop him from leaving, “Wait a minute.”

He says nothing, but his expression says it for him: “What now?”

“You can’t keep acting like this,” I stammer slightly. I clear my throat and set my jaw. “It’s not funny... and very confusing.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” says Suga. His face is once again unreadable.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I accuse, looking him in the eye, “It’s about the- well, it’s about the... the k... Anyway, that’s not the point. You’re driving me crazy!”

That’s when he slams his hand against the doorframe.

And the heart somersaults that plagued me before are back. His eyes stare right into mine and our noses are centimetres apart. I keep telling myself that this shouldn’t be happening... but some part of me wants it to.

All he says is: “You should get used to it.”

I cough in his face and he blinks. “Well, what if I don’t want to get used to it?” I argue.

A faint smirk touches his lips. “Looks like you don’t have a choice.”

He pushes past me and leaves the room. I also have no choice but to follow him out. So I do, whilst trying to figure out what the hell is going on. It’s not fair. He’s enjoying this far too much.

“What do I do, Xiumin?” I whisper aloud.

By the time it gets to BTS’ stage cue to take their seats, I’m done with Min Suga. What is even going through his mind? Can he at least make up his mind? Honestly, that man needs a good slap. He’s driving me completely insane.

I follow Kyung Hee and the others to the BTS stage entrance, since I’ve got nothing better to do. They’re on in about three minutes, and the stage itself looks incredible judging by the view I got earlier today. I trail behind everyone else – not because Suga is at the back – and wish them luck for a great stage.

Things are never easy in situations like these, however, which is what I observe as my foot catches on the edge of a floor board. I give a tiny yelp as I’m flung forward, unable to regain my balance even in sturdy boots. And I am propelled straight into the arms of...

...Suga.

I gulp.

“Is walking hard for you?” he whispers.

I want to reach up and slap that perfect face of his.

“Get off me,” I say, but it’s half-hearted by this point.

“If that’s what you really want...” says Suga, threatening to drop me before I can get my footing.

“Wait!” I squeak through a whisper, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

He starts chuckling, and I push him away, standing up properly. He brushes his shirt off, and I try to slow my heart rate. Like, shut up, heart rate, nobody asked for you.

We lock eyes in the half-light, and I’m tied between wanting to punch him and wanting to kiss him.

You did not just think that, Mina.

“Hyung!” says Hobi, catching up with the group, “We’ve got to get to our seats...”

He slows to a stop and observes us for a moment. Then he waves a hand in Suga’s face, grabs his hand and drags him along. At least he didn’t say anything... or so I think...

“Hey, Mina!” he whispers, throwing me back a glance, “We’ll be having words later!”

I curse under my breath. Hobi is too smart for his own good.

Their performance goes well, I think, though I’m too wound up to watch. I keep thinking about the- well, the... kiss... and Suga, and everything that comes out of his mouth, and the cliché way he slammed his hand against the wall, and caught me when I tripped...

What is even happening to me?

After the performances (I sneak a little look at EXO’s – and they are amazing as usual) it’s time for the awards ceremony. I listen as they are announced, trying to follow everything the presenters are saying. Then, at long last, I hear the words that BTS have been dreaming of hearing...

“The Album of the Year Award goes to... Bangtan Sonyeondan!”

The crowd goes absolutely wild, and I have to stop myself from screaming too publicly. From what little research I’ve done, this award is a massive deal. And boy do they deserve it. For a moment, I forget about my own problems, and just keep smiling because they’ve really gone and won it, and they must be so proud.

Some of the members were crying, I think, which makes even me emotional. I’ve seen how hard they’ve worked for that award, and they really deserve it. I put the fact that Suga is being a massive arse and confusing the hell out of me to the back of my mind, and think about how happy they must be.

That feeling ends as soon as the awards show ends and they come backstage again. Because Suga spots me, gives me a pair of mysterious, mischievous eyes... and smirks.

The next week is a living hell.

What ‘Suga-and-I’ has come to... I’m not really quite sure. I have no idea what he thinks of me, and I’m not even sure what I think of him. On the bright side, things are no longer awkward between us like they were before. However, it has gotten to a point where we are both being ridiculous... and we both like it.

I walk into work the following morning, tired and with EXO in my ears. It’s actually a really good song I happen to be listening to – El Dorado. The song is still ringing in my ears when someone pulls out my earphones and hands me a coffee.

A coffee.

“Hey, what do you think you’re...” I trail of as I look up into the face of Min Suga.

“Good morning,” he says. “Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel less like a dead person.”

“Um... thanks, I think,” I reply.

“Unfortunately, coffee can’t have that effect on your appearance,” he adds.

“Hey!” I exclaim. I frown at him as he walks away.

I can’t tell whether he’s trying to be nice or not. I shrug, glad for a warm drink on a cold morning, and raise the cup to my lips. This is when I regret ever trusting that terrible man.

I spit the coffee back into the cup.

“Suga!” I shriek down the corridor.

He manages to keep a straight face as I storm towards him. “What’s the matter, honey?” he asks, completely innocent.

“Honey?” I repeat.

“It’s what husbands and wives tend to call each other-”

“I know what it means!” I interrupt. “Anyway, what is the meaning of this?”

I hold the cup up in Suga’s face. He doesn’t even flinch.

“It’s just coffee,” he says. “Don’t you like it? It’s better when you drink more at once.”

I have regrets piling up by the minute. I take a large gulp of the coffee. I want to be sick. And that’s kind of what I end up doing.

I spit it out. Again. Onto Suga’s shoes.

“Hey!” he objects. “These are new!”

I slam the coffee cup into his hands and march away from him. “I’m sure you can easily buy another pair!” I call over my shoulder.

Salty coffee.

And this – this is only the start.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I’m suddenly very determined. I’m going to get one up on Min Suga, and more importantly – I’m going to make him wish he never made the mistake of messing with a girl like me. He’s going to regret he ever said the words:

“Forget that ever happened.”

And he’s going to regret he ever kissed me in the first place.

I confer with Kyung Hee for my plan. I tell her that I want to try out a new style for a day – a sexier style. She is eager to help, and overnight puts together a whole new look for me to put on tomorrow. What she doesn’t know is that this is all part of my revenge plan to get one up on a certain dark-haired beautiful rapper.

The next day is when I put the plan into action. I slide into the dress Kyung Hee has put aside for me – a short, tight, black dress, with sleeves to the elbow and a dangerously low neckline. I pair it with black heels and a red lip, and I’m ready to go.

Walking through Big Hit Entertainment like this is extremely satisfying. Even Nari can’t find the words to insult me as I stride on by. And as for Suga... well, the effect is exactly what I desired. I watch from the corner of my eye as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallowed. He is silent, but he is also speechless.

It’s brilliant.

But Suga isn’t the type to give up that easily. What happens a few days later is enough to make me want to scream with frustration. How is he so good at this?

It’s evening when Hobi comes to find me with a request.

“Oh, hi, Hobi,” I say with a smile.

“Mina,” he says, fixing me with a look of suspicion, “Is something going on?”

I frown back. “What do you mean?”

“It’s strange,” says Hobi.

“What is?” I press.

Hobi sighs and shakes his head. “We’ve just finished dance practise for today,” he says.

“And?”

“We’ve all finished and gone to wash up, you know, have a shower.”

“Good... so?”

Hobi narrows his eyes and takes a breath. “I finished first,” he says, “And on my way out, Yoongi-hyung asked me to fetch you.”

This is where it gets interesting, I suppose.

“What did he want?” I ask.

“Dinner,” says Hobi simply. “He asked you to bring him dinner in the Genius Lab.”

“Okay,” I say slowly. “What’s so weird about that?”

“It’s just... he asked especially for you.”

“I do work here, you know,” I point out.

“I know,” says Hobi, “I just found it a little odd. I could’ve got him dinner.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I assure him, “I’ll get him something. I’ve got nothing to do right now, anyway. You should go and grab something to eat for yourself.”

“I know, I will,” says Hobi, and the dimpled smile is back. “Let’s go to the cafeteria together.”

Hobi gets some dinner and sits down to wait for the others. I decide to get Suga nothing but an apple, and then make my way up to the Genius Lab. I don’t know whether he’s trying to psyche me out or something, by bringing me back up here. Maybe he is... but you never know with Suga.

I knock on the door and wait a few seconds. “Suga?” I call.

“Oh, you came,” says a voice from behind me.

I turn around, prepared to jokingly hand him the apple, but I’m stopped short. Because when Hobi said that they’d all finished showering after dance practise, he definitely wasn’t kidding.
Because I am now confronted with a half-naked-wrapped-in-a-towel-sexy-wet-hair-Suga, and I don’t know what to do with myself.

He chuckles.

I scowl.

He’s enjoying this way too much.

And I can’t stop staring.

Mina, you’re giving in. Don’t let him win. Damn you, Min Suga.

He tucks all of this sweaty practise clothes under one arm and unlocks the Genius Lab, stepping inside before me. I honestly don’t know whether I want to follow him inside. Fortunately, he seems to have regained his better sense and has his jeans on when I enter, and is pulling on a black t-shirt.

“So, where’s my dinner?” he asks, rubbing his hair with a towel.

I smile all of a sudden, and take a bite out of the apple in my hand. “This was it,” I say sweetly, “But looks like I got too hungry. Sorry about that.”

I crunch on my mouthful of apple and toss it over to him. He catches it deftly, frowns, and takes a bite from the opposite side.

“No problem, honey,” he says.

And I smile, because I know exactly what he’s doing. If Suga wants to play, then I’ll have to play him at his own game.

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Notes

Hey guys!
Omg this chapter was so much fun to write!! Next chapter will be equal in fun-ness, because the stuff I have planned just cracks me up. I laughed so many times whilst editing this chapter too XD
But anyway, I hope you guys are enjoying so far and are looking forward to what this story has in store! Please continue to give your love and support - it is much appreciated :)
See you next time,
asterisk xx