REQUESTED
sypnosis:
y/n plays a prank on rosie by not saying i love you.
———
"She's going to kill you."
The instant chill ran down my spine as I froze mid-setup, pausing my attempt to hide a camera behind some books. Turning around I stared at my phone.
There stood Jennie, hands firmly planted on her hips, her best cat-like glare aptly reminiscent of a feline poised to pounce on an unsuspecting laser dot.
"It'll be fine," I shrugged, waving my hand in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner. "I mean, what's the worst that can happen?" I flashed a smile that probably looked more like a nervous grimace, then turned back to ensure the camera was sufficiently hidden among our mini-shelf decor, currently resembling a scene from a sitcom that's gone terribly wrong.
Her scoff reverberated in the living room, a sound that seemed to say, 'You've got to be kidding me.'
"You do realize who you're dating, right?"
Of course! How could I not?
I was dating a literal goddess—a blonde angel who redefined what it meant to be an icon in the K-pop world. The golden vocalist, the prettiest Australian that ever graced my Instagram feed!
It was as if the universe mixed up the cosmic matchmaking cards and somehow yanked me into this fairytale.
Just thinking about her being mine made me giddy, how did I even get such a girl? I was just a YouTuber who was somewhat well known and she was a global pop star. Literally polar opposites.
That's why it surprised me when she approached me in the middle of a party to say she was a fan of me and that she loved watching my videos.
A FAN.
I was shell shocked, all alcohol that was in my system at the moment vanished as I stared at her soberly and in surprise. Honestly, I didn't even think she knew I existed. I nearly dropped my drink as she continued to compliment me about everything; I was dazed out of my mind.
Half trying not to embarrass myself, half getting lose in her brown eyes.
And then, the cherry on top of this unexpected sundae of a night? She asked for MY number.
I swear if I had a nickel for every time I expected to witness such a monumental moment in my life, I'd have 2 nickels; which is really weird.
There I was, blushing crimson; I wanted to run out onto the street and announce to the world that I now had the contacts of the prettiest girl in the world.
Someone please call a priest, because that night I prayed to every deity in every belief system just to show my appreciation for this cosmic gift.
Fast forward a few steamy months of compelling texting battles and exhilarating phone calls, and suddenly, she was a part of my daily routine. It went from "Good morning, beautiful!" texts to waking up before dawn just to ensure I could drop by her penthouse and walk Hank before waking her up for breakfast that I brought.
And each day ended with a gentle kiss on the cheek that made me float slightly off the ground.
Who cared if I only got five hours of sleep when rosé from blackpink pecked my cheek good morning? I could have died right there, a happy soul departing this earth feeling like the luckiest person alive.
But deep down, the lack of confidence shadowed me like a good ghost story. What if this was just her being friendly? Now that I think about it, maybe snuggling into my side during movie nights wasn't just "being friendly."
