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Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up
the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class
with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to
afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like
every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus
(those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the
amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just
walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen
untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized
with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you
had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever
love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the
campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he
and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues
munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he
should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed.
They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the
course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good.
He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big
world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't
do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his
hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not
bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your
own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.
"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's
lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your
best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every
girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay
mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who
volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus
every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good
intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that
chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw
yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed
one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently
taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his
friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing
to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now
in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally
perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more
money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over
something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to
think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I
mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next
semester."
Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with
a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over
college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once.
Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to
them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going
somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that
money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls
it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two
guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took
his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will
be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to
"single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty
sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study
tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app,
with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an
attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good
thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent
out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself
a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen,
where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the
looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates
losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories
anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in
Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for
Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the
bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his
calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his
friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they
come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The
idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for
himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being
independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds
himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone
else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those
bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it
is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks
with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an
actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl
out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three
months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to
Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side
when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were
all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.
But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to
write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across
from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave.
You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your
friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you
didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've
never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your
best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told
him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it
would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an
ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've
forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's
the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches
across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there
was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was
once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He
ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she
extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.


College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus
where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a
laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict
daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a
typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as
possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across
campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if
time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be
doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some
exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of
campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the
unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter
what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is
planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as
today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you
haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the
library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the
back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics
aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you
definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first
time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to
bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks
for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the
ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you
out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.


But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted
for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any
proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had
a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of
his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in
forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says
as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from
you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one
important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of
disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy
you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he
takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the
conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date
someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be
easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he
proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective
customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing
for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and
scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such
a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish
selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's
needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"


"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back
to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would
be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are
you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you.
You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you
had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on
the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time
equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough
decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in
frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing
with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your
brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to
the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known
around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you.
I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I
can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours
this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main
doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––
standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the
least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to
the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of
campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win
this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave
you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he
had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a
good job of hiding it.
He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five
hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying
to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You
narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few
years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty
when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with
someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best
friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female
Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if
you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to
nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this
semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of
being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came
along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high
school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you
could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense
to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this,
you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find
yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the
stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and
midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five
hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the
semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months
anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone
to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case.
Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends
(though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys
that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a
complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could
be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which
would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation.
And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the
fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the
nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless
schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your
childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school
together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's
the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but
at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when
and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons,
you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You
continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one
of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of
the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to
treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life
and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his
car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted
from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday
you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your
Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his
said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to
question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted
people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.
Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day.
Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library
run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay
holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your
eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a
sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on
campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table
by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget,
but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've
figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who
are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your
junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this
morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar
for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the
waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes
rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show
anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues,
"that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance.
After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just
once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.


"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat,
leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering
over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to
actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today,
you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship
with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean
back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're
not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a
daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay
suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-
student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go
on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three
months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with
our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out
than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities
straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow
and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as
he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars,
your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am,"
Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun
couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you
should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea
kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims,
earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that
maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out
of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had
thought.
As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to
each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order
the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a,
once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student
population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even
though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to
just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your
mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake
excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's
screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind
your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that
brings a smile to his face:

~~~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince
people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the
middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You
remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp
gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of
the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the
third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to
follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At
least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me
boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only
because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you
tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with
me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from
him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.
"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but
not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a
scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to
the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with
the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad
a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens
the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile
growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling
himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~~~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to
his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow
highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school
backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about
the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work
or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should
at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they
hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell
him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of
Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives
below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory
that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can
bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."
Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would
just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said
he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he
heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the
two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save
death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with
him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he
might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room,
followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in
place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay
himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the
door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere
along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-
way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living
in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he
was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like
that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag
resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you
without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me
up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall.
Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used
to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still
excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage
proposal to come next.
"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he
places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is
covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this
out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter.
"Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he
actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your
morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other
recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he
missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his
place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the
comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out
the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot
on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay
doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like
you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on
your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to
respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you
take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the
various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his
work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea
where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your
face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of
these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a
surprised look.
"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him,
causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND
giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his
eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~~~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that
you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're
already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're
already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your
campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your
dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly
stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings
together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against
to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default
frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it
across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen
who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be
bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across
campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed
towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is
targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to
whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.
Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite
breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the
glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to
it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~~~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes
narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well,
mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but
feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much
reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make
room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a
twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to
the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't
have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you
out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those
horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to
him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard,
okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together,
but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company
dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for
you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be
exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business
men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled
something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally
been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).
Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above
you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the
amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in
formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be
beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these
company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're
suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've
acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks
like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's
loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in
an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever
since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you
bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his
father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as
you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when
he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a
room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their
fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly
exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors
your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to
rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if
he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against
him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays!
Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the
woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking
about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from
behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known
Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is
so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver
you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his
warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer
room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact
with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say
back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to
match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been
there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush
likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness
made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in
the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your
way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still
trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a
tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able
to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the
two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So
much for a small business dinner.
As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a
familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you
made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his
widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for
always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your
assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I
suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's
face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the
sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at
the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to
Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again,
he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much
he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new.
He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back
in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to
your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and
without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a
combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress
that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just
Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't
sleep (you found this out the hard way).
It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and
decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than
you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying
in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you
haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed
his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices),
you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you,
who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're
met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He
waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice
as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact
that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl
sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his
vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give
you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as
well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in
front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you
can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.
"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking
over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still
awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?"
You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive
further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to
the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes
around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––
you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling
within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just
the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're
bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking
in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school,
nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of
confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told
me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've
laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that
unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for
whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your
mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else
around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's
blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of
his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking
lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to
count.
You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––
why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of
well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily
wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to
silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to
seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years.
For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you
couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot
on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look
like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people
have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So
what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the
end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to
arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-
hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when
he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of
13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do
was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks
giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around
because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm
literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole
he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing
it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's
around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault,
you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't
tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to
meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You
can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."
Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word
falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep
him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide
him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-
headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions
without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game
and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble
out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump
forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud
silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all
he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of
losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that
one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of
this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've
started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him
hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is
the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk
back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future,
he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch
tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or
drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for
class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after
last night.
Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling
lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly
growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime,
not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than
just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And
that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month
than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't
comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that
you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building
and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you
would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you.
But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives
right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning,
confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning
when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not
interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at
that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally
beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your
laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester.
Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't
want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out
the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the
boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah!
Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact
that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into
this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he
discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred
dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick
you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building
home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in
the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last
heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't
focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on
every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life
without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up
to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as
you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month
three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go
back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life,
it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's
overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the
way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells
himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no
sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking
decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how
he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up
for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew
into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into
words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in
the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-
circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."


"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you
slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that,
when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when
he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he
tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps
when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry
for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a
toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this
means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake
up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to
curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know
what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not
that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to
hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for
anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in
the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your
stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms
to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was
holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for
your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so
close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to
your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"


And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you
make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of
you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay
swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to
touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one
another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally
expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty
members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of
you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours,
his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your
forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you
giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be
good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the
wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-
boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

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