Jihan’s POV
I don’t even know when it happens.
One moment, I’m scanning the room casually, expecting to find Wonbin somewhere nearby—laughing, talking, maybe already looking for me again like he promised.
And then I realize I’ve turned in a full circle without seeing him once.
My chest tightens.
He said he wouldn’t leave me.
I sit there on the barstool, fingers loosely wrapped around a glass I haven’t touched in a while, watching the rest of the room move without me.
People dance in loose, laughing circles.
Alphas lean close to omegas, whispering things that make them smile shyly.
Friends stumble into each other, drunk and happy and loud.
I feel… separate.
Like I’m behind glass.
It’s late.
My body feels heavy, like gravity has doubled.
My head throbs faintly, not quite from alcohol—more from everything else.
I don’t even like parties.
I’ve never liked parties.
The noise, the lights, the way everyone seems to know where they belong except me.
So why did I do this?
Why did I let myself believe him?
Maybe it was never really Wonbin.
Maybe it was Mihyun, gently nudging him into sending those messages.
Maybe the cookies were a family thing.
Maybe the attention I’d been clinging to all night was borrowed, temporary, never meant to last.
The thought makes something inside me cave in.
Why did I let myself hope for something I already knew I couldn’t have?
My vision blurs, and it takes me a few seconds to realize it’s because I’m crying.
Quietly.
Pathetically.
Tears slipping down my cheeks without permission.
I swipe at them quickly, embarrassed even though no one is looking at me.
That’s the worst part.
There are so many people around me, yet I’ve never felt this alone.
I don’t even understand why it hurts so much.
I was happy earlier—really happy.
Warm.
Giddy.
Like I mattered.
And now I’m sitting here, hollow, watching everyone else live inside moments I don’t get to keep.
No one approaches me.
No one talks to me.
They probably know I’m the birthday boy’s guest, the one you’re not supposed to touch or flirt with or bother.
Special, they’d call it.
I let out a quiet, humorless scoff.
What’s so special about me?
I don’t feel special.
I feel forgotten.
“Sir?” a gentle voice cuts through my thoughts.
I look up to see the omega behind the bar watching me with concern softening her features.
She must have noticed the tears.
Or the way my hands are shaking slightly now that I’m no longer pretending I’m fine.
“Are you okay?”
I shake my head before I can stop myself.
“No,” I say, voice small and honest in a way that surprises even me.
She smiles gently, not pitying, just kind.
“Do you want to go upstairs and rest? Who are you here with, sir? Maybe I can help you find them.”
I hesitate, then the words spill out anyway, messy and unfiltered.
“I’m with Wonbin Kim,” I say, my throat tightening around his name.
“But he left me. I’m looking for my brother and my best friend, but I—I can’t stand on my own anymore. I just want to go home and rest.”
Saying it out loud makes it real.
Makes it heavier.
She nods immediately.
“I’ll escort you to a room upstairs. I’ll find your brother and your best friend for you.”
I don’t have the energy.
The walk feels long.
Too long.
My legs drag, my body leaning more and more heavily against her as we move.
I know I’m being a burden.
I know she’s struggling to keep me steady.
Still, she doesn’t complain.
Doesn’t rush me.
I cling to that small kindness like a lifeline.
When she finally opens the door to the room, the dim quiet inside feels like a mercy.
She helps me onto the bed, carefully easing me down like I might break.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick.
“Can you… write your name on that napkin? I want to thank you properly tomorrow. When I’m sober.”
She smiles and does exactly that, her pen scratching softly against the paper.
She places the napkin on the bedside table, tucks the blanket around me, and makes sure I’m settled before stepping back.
“Rest well,” she says quietly.
The door closes behind her, and the room falls silent.
Alone.
I stare at the ceiling, tears slipping sideways into my hair, my chest aching with everything I didn’t say, everything I wanted, everything I convinced myself I was allowed to feel.
I don’t know when I fall asleep.
Only that I do—still wondering when, exactly, I became this easy to leave.
____________________________________
Wonbin’s POV
I don’t remember when the room started spinning—only that it did.
I shake my head hard, blinking against the blur, trying to force the haze away.
The alcohol is already deep in my system, warm and heavy in my veins, dulling the edges of the world while sharpening everything I shouldn’t be thinking about.
I squint around the room, scanning faces, bodies, movement.
Jihan isn’t there.
My chest tightens instantly.
I turn once.
Then again.
I push past people who laugh and shout my name, hands slapping my back, glasses shoved into my palm.
Someone tells me it’s my birthday again like I’ve forgotten.
Someone else insists I need “one last shot.”
They keep saying that.
One last shot.
But all I can think is that this was supposed to be our night.
Mine and Jihan’s.
The only night I could stay close without it being questioned, without my brother or our families hovering.
I was supposed to stay beside him the whole time, make sure he was okay, make sure no one cornered him, touched him, looked at him the wrong way.
Now I don’t even know where he is.
Or who he’s with.
The thought crawls under my skin, ugly and sharp.
I imagine some alpha leaning too close, offering him a drink he shouldn’t have.
I imagine Jihan smiling politely, trying not to cause a scene.
My jaw clenches so hard it hurts.
I hope no one tries anything.
I hope no one thinks they’re allowed to.
“Hyung!”
A hand slings around my shoulder before I can move away.
I barely register Junhyung’s face before Donghyun appears on my other side, grinning like they know something I don’t.
“You excited for your gift tonight?” Junhyung asks, eyes bright with mischief.
“I’m telling you, you’re going to love him.”
Donghyun laughs.
“Juhwan hyung helped us picked earlier. He’s already waiting in your room.”
I roll my eyes so hard it almost makes me dizzy.
“I told you,” I mutter, prying Junhyung’s arm off me, “I don’t want that kind of gift anymore.”
Juhwan scoffs from across the table, sipping his drink lazily.
“And why is that?” he asks.
“What, are you planning to seduce your brother’s fiancé and make him fall in love with you instead, Wonbin-ah?”
My mood snaps instantly.
“I’m not like that anymore,” I snap back, sharper than I mean to.
“And I have good intentions for him.”
They burst out laughing.
“Sure you do,” Donghyun says, clinking his glass against mine.
“Bro, you just need a good fuck to forget about him.”
I shake my head, pushing the drink away this time.
“You don’t get it.”
They never do.
Because they weren’t there earlier—weren’t close enough to feel the way Jihan leaned in when he laughed, how his shoulder brushed mine like it was nothing but felt like everything.
They didn’t notice the way his voice softened when he talked to me, or how his eyes searched for mine every time the room got too loud.
They didn’t feel that pull.
I did. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
And now, hours later, I’m still searching the crowd like he might reappear if I just look hard enough.
He doesn’t.
Two hours blur past.
More drinks.
More noise.
More people telling me to relax, to enjoy myself.
At some point I give up fighting them and let the exhaustion settle into my bones.
Maybe he already left.
Maybe I lost him without even realizing it.
The thought makes my chest ache in a way the alcohol can’t numb.
Eventually, I manage to peel myself away and stumble toward the elevator.
My head throbs, my thoughts drifting in slow, unfocused loops—back to Jihan.
Always back to Jihan.
How close we were earlier.
How badly I wanted to put my arm around his waist, pull him in like it was natural.
How I imagined leaning down, burying my face in the curve of his neck, breathing him in until the rest of the world disappeared.
I still smell him on my clothes.
When I open the door to my room, it’s dark.
Quiet.
The noise from the party barely reaches up here.
I squint into the dimness and notice the shape on the bed—a lump under the covers.
I let out a slow breath.
Maybe I do need distraction, I think dully.
Maybe pretending will be enough for tonight.
I step inside and close the door behind me, swaying slightly on my feet.
I kick my shoes off, rubbing a hand over my face.
It’s only then that it hits me.
The scent.
Not the one my friends promised.
Not unfamiliar, sweet and cloying like strangers always are.
It’s Jihan.
Soft.
Familiar.
Wrapped around the room like he never left.
I freeze.
I shook my head and close my eyes with more force.
No— that can’t be, it’s impossible..
It wasn’t him, the scent was familiar but there’s something different like a hint of orange and lilies?
I squint toward the bedside table when I notice something sitting there.
A folded napkin.
Writing on it.
I smirk to myself, reaching for it, then immediately regret it when the words refuse to stay still.
The letters swim, tilt, double over themselves.
I snort softly and drop it back down.
Yeah.
Not sober enough for that.
I turn back to the bed and step closer, my movements slow and unsteady.
The omega lying there looks… unreal.
Soft in the low light.
Too perfect.
The kind of perfect that reminds me of someone I shouldn’t be thinking about.
Someone I can’t have.
“Hey,” I murmur, sinking down on the edge of the mattress.
My voice sounds lower than usual, heavier.
“You asleep?”
I already know the answer.
But well, he’s not really here to sleep anyway.
Donghyun might be right and I need this kind of distraction to take my mind off Jihan..
WARNING: NEXT CHAPTER MIGHT CONTAIN SOME EXPLICIT SCENES