error 404 title not found (hendery x y/n)

Chapter Seven

You and Yangyang finished the maze several hours ago, and it was disturbingly awkward. You spent the entire time giving monosyllabic answers to every attempt of conversation he made. 

("Favorite food?" 

"Egg." 

"Egg what? Benedict? Sunny side up? Tarts?"

"Egg."

"Where are you from?" 

"Here." 

"Here, like Korea?"

"Favorite childhood memory?" 

"Died." 

"Who died?" 

"Grandpa." 

"Ha! Two syllables! We're getting somewhere!" 

"No.")

You sigh. You really wanted to spend more time with him, but you shut him out and finished the rest of the strawberries while staring at the ceiling and channeling some kind of damsel in distress. Which, you guessed, you technically were. But most damsels didn't have cute captors and fancy suites. 

Princess taken prisoner? Urgh, hard no on that one.

Badass in bondages... no, too 50 Shades of Grey-esque. (You were a precocious child.)

Heroine in (appre)hend-ment? Was that even a word?

"Y/N," somebody says, knocking on your door.

You startle. How much time has passed? You look down at your phone. Six o'clock already.

"Y/N, are you in there?" The person repeats.

"Yeah, yeah, coming!" You say, opening the door. Holy hecking hell. They just couldn't stop with the pretty boys, could they? And this one is in a suit. Three pieces, complete with a calm expression on his face. He looks like a model/businessman/evil-member-of-a-gang. His hair is bleached blonde with silvery undertones, which can't be good for stealth, but his face is familiar.

You realize you're staring.

He shakes his head and smiles, sticking his hand out. "Hi. Welcome. I'm Na Jaemin."

You do a funky thing that involves half bowing and half cringing and then choking on your own tongue because, you know, grace.

"Right, um, are you ready for dinner?"

"Please tell me it's a casual thing."

"Yeah, pretty casual." He says. "Although maybe not as casual as- is that Yangyang's sweatshirt?"

You clap a hand to your face. "Hold on, please. Business casual or dressy casual?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Let me just get changed. Please."

Jaemin mutters something like, "Not the sweatshirt," and gives you a polite smile.

You shut the door and pull the sweatshirt off, and throw it onto the bed with a guilty expression. 

Meanwhile, the closet is way too much. It's like somebody turned the excessive button to fashion week extravaganza and then shot a bazooka gun of a few million in precious stones. You toss on the first fancy looking thing you see and slip on a pair of heels, and then finger comb your hair into a more manageable... nope, forget it. It'll remain a tangled mess for now. Maybe it adds volume or something. 

You fling the door open again. Jaemin flinches.

"Right," You say, catching your breath. "Dinner time?"

He points at your hair. "Is that- um, okay? I can wait a little more."

"Dead skin cells on my scalp." You deadpan. "What's not to love?"

Jaemin snorts. "I see why everyone else likes you so much. Come on. Johnny doesn't like it when we're late for dinner, seeing as it's a family event, and we have a new member."

Family? What in the cult?

You follow Jaemin to the elevator, and listen as it comes up. Only to head back down. Maybe you should be an elevator in your next life. The doors slide open and you step in, staring at your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is really a mess. You should've taken Jaemin up on his offer.

"Don't worry about it." Jaemin says, looking over at you.

Huh? Can he read minds?

"I mean, we're all pretty friendly. Hendery's going to be at dinner, too. But he'll be fashionably late."

"Ah," You reply, not wanted to seem ungrateful. You don't know how to go about talking with him. The doors open and you two step out into the cold hallway. You wobble slightly on the heels before walking more confidently.

"And Yangyang, too, if that's what you're worried about."

"No. I mean, I'm glad he'll be there, but-" You stop yourself.

"Right," Jaemin says with a laugh. It sounds forced. No way anyone laughs that lightly.

You keep walking, making sure to keep your expression calm. Or calm-ish.

He opens the door for you, and you inhale sharply at the all-too familiar room. Dark paneling, chandeliers, a table that extends for as far as you eye can see. The chair at the front of the room looks too much like a throne to make you feel comfortable. A chill crawls up your spine.

Yangyang's already sitting there, also dressed up. You try and catch his eye, but he looks down at his plate.

"You're sitting in between Hendery and Renjun," Jaemin says, with a faint air of distaste.

You pull out your chair and sit down, where the boy next to you is doodling on the cloth napkin with a pen. His hair falls into his face, and he ignores you.

You look at the table. It's made to sit fifty, possibly sixty, but you can only count ten places set for dinner.

A door in the back of the room swings open, and a tall man wearing a perfectly fitted suit walks in, adjusting his watch. He's handsome, but in a way one appreciates a model on a runway- too strong features, too striking to be real.

Your head overwhelms you with a piercing pain. Two things clashing, when the rock and the hard place meet, and you can no longer think straight. Your dread grows stronger, paralyzing you, ignoring every fibre of your being screaming to RUN. 

"Welcome, Y/N," Johnny says, eyes glittering like diamonds. Or a snake's. "I'm so glad you've finally come home."

forgive me.
i am SO sorry.
anyways i'm no longer making any promises about update times just keep screaming at me.