Irene
I shouldn't have let it last for almost a month without talking to her.
I should've called her. I should've explained everything.
Maybe if I did, we'd be okay right now. Maybe none of this would've happened.
I didn't try hard enough to tell her about Suho back then. And now, look at this mess.
God, I'm so stupid.
But no matter what happens — I won't give up. If Lisa gave up on us, then I'll fight for both of us.
Right now I'm in the car with Joy and Yeri.
Joy's driving because she refused to let me behind the wheel — she knows I'm too upset.
"Unnie, you okay?" Yeri asks softly, patting my back.
I just nod, wiping the tears that won't stop falling.
I need to fix this. I will fix this.
Then it hits me. Him. He started this. He has to end it.
"Joy — take me to EXO's dorm."
Joy twists around, forgetting she's driving. "Unnie!"
"Eyes on the road!" I snap. She faces forward again, flustered. "Why are we going there?" she asks.
"I'm going to fix this myself. He needs to stop lying — he's ruining my life."
"But unnie—"
"You're coming with me. Yeri, text Seulgi and Wendy — tell them to follow us."
"Got it, unnie!" Yeri chirps, way too excited. She grabs her phone.
"Hi unnie! Yes, we're fine. Follow us to EXO's dorm. Irene unnie's orders. Okay, take care. Bye!" she chatters. I don't know which one she called but I don't care. I'm too angry to care.
Twenty minutes later, Joy parks the car. Seulgi and Wendy pull up right behind us.
I take a deep breath. I can do this.
"Stay back. Watch from a distance. Don't come out unless I say so."
They nod. But I almost laugh when I see their faces — they look ready for war.
"Guys, calm down," I sigh. "You look like you're about to storm a building."
They breathe out in unison.
"It's Suho oppa who should calm down," Yeri mutters, crossing her arms. "He's acting like a clown."
"I swear if he says one more stupid thing—" Joy mutters, cracking her knuckles.
"Don't worry. Irene's got this," Wendy says. "We're just here to back you up."
I smile, my chest tightening at how lucky I am to have them.
"Hide now. I'm calling him."
They scatter behind the cars and trees like undercover agents. I bite back a laugh and dial his number.
"Hello?" he answers. His voice makes my skin crawl.
"I'm outside. Come down."
"Huh? What are you—"
"Don't ask. Just come down." I hang up before he can say anything else.
A few minutes later, I see him walking out — waving at me like we're friends. Like he didn't just ruin my relationship.
As soon as he's close enough, I slap him. Hard.
His head snaps to the side. He touches his cheek, eyes wide. "What the hell was that for?!"
"For lying to the media!" I hiss.
He smirks — the audacity. "It's true we're dating, isn't it?"
"You know exactly what's true about those dates."
