Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥?

Mirage

It was a decent restaurant bar. Ten booths lined one side, while about fifteen tables, each seating four to six people, filled the floor. A compact bar area offered ten stools, inviting for those flying solo or looking for casual conversation. The walls were designed with framed art: portraits of musicians, diverse drawings, and bursts of creativity that gave the place a unique edge. There was upbeat music playing, probably one of the latest pop music hits, which created a lively atmosphere. The dim lighting added to the cozy ambiance of the place, making it a great spot for a casual night out with friends. Merely, outside the bar, a small tattoo shop was located, adding to the edgy vibe of the area.

Sana was dragged by her co-workers, Nayeon, Jihyo, Dahyun, and Tzuyu. They recently had all been working on a big project together, and that day their marketing presentation was approved by the higher-ups. So, Nayeon and Jihyo decided to celebrate at this trendy bar. Sana, who was initially hesitant, found herself seated at one of the booths.

"Why are we here? I thought we would eat out somewhere," Sana asked, glancing around the dimly lit bar. Squeezed between Jihyo and Nayeon, she shifted uncomfortably, her expression betraying how out of place she felt. The loud music, the crowd, and the edgy decor weren’t exactly her scene.

"To celebrate, duh," Jihyo replied with a playful eye roll.

"I know, I just thought we’d have a quiet dinner instead," Sana muttered, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"They have good food here," Tzuyu offered, tapping the menu in front of her.

"Yeah, their chicken wings are my favorite," Dahyun added, flipping through the pages.

"We always come here after a long shift," Jihyo said with a grin.

"And we’re basically regulars now," Nayeon added, nudging Sana lightly. "Come on, it'll be fun. Just give it a chance."

Jihyo raised her hand to call the waiter over, flashing a familiar smile that said they were regulars.

A few moments later, a young woman approached their table, a notepad tucked into the pocket of her black apron. Her short hair brushed just above her shoulders, sleek and effortlessly cool. Her eyes, warm and lined subtly, sparkled with easy confidence. One arm was sleeved with tattoos, delicate linework and bold ink patterns that made Sana tilt her head slightly in curiosity.

“Jihyo,” the waitress greeted with a smile. “Hey, guys! You’re all back.”

Sana squinted to read the name tag on her chest: Mina.

“How are you, Mina?” Nayeon asked, her voice lighter than usual as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her tone carried a playful lilt, one that made Jihyo glance up from her menu with the faintest smirk.

Mina laughed softly, the sound low and smooth. “I’m good. I haven’t seen you in a while, Nayeon.”

“We’ve been busy with work,” Nayeon replied with an exaggerated pout, leaning just a little forward on the table. “But we were here last week… Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

Mina tilted her head, her smile curving wider. “Of course, I noticed. But you weren’t sitting in my section that night.”

“Ohh, that explains why I didn’t get my usual extra napkins,” Nayeon teased, twirling her fingers. “Something definitely felt missing.”

Across the table, Dahyun raised a brow, concealing her laugh, while Tzuyu and Sana exchanged looks. Jihyo simply bit her lip, clearly entertained.

Mina leaned in slightly, lips twitching. “Don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’m counting on it,” Nayeon replied, gaze locked on hers.

A brief silence hung in the air, heavy with the kind of charged energy that had everyone at the table suddenly very aware of the growing tension until Sana cleared her throat, loudly and purposefully.

Both Mina and Nayeon blinked, their moment cut clean.

“So,” Sana said, raising her eyebrows and flashing a tight-lipped smile, “can we order now? I’m starving.”

“Right, of course,” Mina said quickly, straightening her notepad and shifting her attention back to the group. “What can I get for you all?”

Nayeon leaned back in her seat with a small, mischievous grin, while Sana glanced at her with narrowed eyes before cracking off her food order.

The group began rattling off their usual orders: crispy chicken wings, seasoned fries, cheesy nachos, and a few more appetizers to share. Mina scribbled down their requests with ease, nodding along and asking quick clarifying questions with a warm smile.

“And for drinks?” she asked, eyes briefly flicking back to Nayeon, who was already watching her.

“We’ll start with a round of cocktails,” Jihyo chimed in before anyone else could flirt further. “Something light to start the night.”

“Got it,” Mina said, jotting it down. “I’ll bring out the food first, then swing back with the drinks. Want the usual mojitos?”

“Yes, please,” Dahyun grinned. “You always make them just right.”

Mina chuckled, her gaze landing on Nayeon again. “That’s because I make them myself with some of my buddies.”

“I knew it,” Nayeon said, her voice lilting with playful accusation. “That’s why they taste better when you’re around.”

Sana, from beside her, let out a quiet sigh and reached for the menu again, using it to fan herself dramatically. “Is it hot in here, or is it just the shameless flirting?”

The table burst into laughter, even Mina biting back a grin as she nodded. “I’ll be back soon,” she said, turning on her heel with grace and disappearing toward the kitchen.

As soon as Mina disappeared behind the bar, Tzuyu leaned forward with a knowing smirk. “You two should just date already.”

Nayeon rested her chin against her palm. “Let her ask me first.”

“Please,” Sana muttered, playing with the tissue box. “You’re already acting like this is your third date.”

Jihyo let out a laugh, raising her eyebrows. “If the mojitos come with that kind of attention, I’m not complaining.”

Nayeon only smiled wider, her gaze drifting toward the bar where Mina had vanished, a spark of anticipation dancing in her eyes.

“Seriously?” Sana asked, narrowing her eyes. “Flirting with the waitress?”

Nayeon turned to her, feigning offense. “Excuse you. First of all, she’s not just the waitress. She owns this place.”

Sana blinked. “Wait, what? She owns the bar?”

“Co-owns,” Jihyo confirmed with a nod.

“And,” Nayeon added with a grin, “she’s insanely hot.”

Sana wrinkled her nose, clearly unimpressed. “Hot? With those tattoos and ripped jeans that look like they haven’t seen a washer in a week?”

Nayeon gasped dramatically and turned to Tzuyu. “Tzuyu! Did you hear that? Sana doesn’t think Mina is hot.”

Tzuyu stifled a laugh. “Everyone’s got their taste, I guess. But personally? I think Mina’s got that quiet, dangerous kind of sexy.”

“Exactly,” Nayeon said, pointing at Tzuyu like she’d won a debate. “Even Jihyo and Dahyun agree with me.”

Dahyun held up her hands. “Guilty. The owners here are hot. Period.”

“Wait,” Sana said, confused. “Owners? I thought Mina was the only one?”

“Part-owner,” Jihyo explained. “There are three others, and trust me, they’re just as attractive.”

“Must be something in the cocktails,” Sana muttered.

“Or maybe,” Nayeon said, tossing her hair and grinning wickedly, “you just have a boring taste.”

Sana scoffed, placing a hand dramatically over her chest. “Excuse me? May I remind you, I’m your boss here. I’m a senior marketing executive with impeccable taste, thank you very much.”

Nayeon gave her a mock salute. “Yes, boss. Of course.”

“What?” Sana continued, lifting her chin in a mock-defensive tone. “I like mine neat, probably someone who works in finance or law, well-spoken, wears a watch, has polished shoes, and owns a luxury car."

“Sounds like a walking spreadsheet,” Dahyun mumbled under her breath.

“Exactly,” Tzuyu added with a light laugh. “Someone who sends calendar invites before dates.”

“And I prefer someone with hobbies,” Sana continued, ignoring them. “Like golf. Or maybe they play classical piano on weekends and watch plays at the theater. And don’t even get me started on tattoos and body piercings. Gross.” She finished with a dramatic gag, sticking out her tongue.

Tzuyu coughed. “You sound like someone’s mom.”

Jihyo burst into laughter. “It's like you’re designing someone to date in Sims."

“I’m being realistic,” Sana insisted, nose slightly in the air.

“Sure, sure,” Nayeon said, waving a hand. “You can keep your boring finance or law someone. I’ll be over here flirting with the hot tattooed bar owner who listens to indie rock and probably rides a motorcycle.”

Sana looked at her, unimpressed. “And ends up ghosting you after two weeks because she’s ‘not looking for anything serious right now and probably calls you every weekend for sex."

“Totally worth it,” Nayeon replied without missing a beat, grinning ear to ear.

The table broke into laughter, and even Sana cracked a reluctant smile.

Minatozaki Sana was a woman of standards. A senior marketing executive in one of the city’s most competitive firms, she had spent years perfecting her image, her career, her reputation, and her taste. Everything about her life had been fine-tuned with intention. So when she said she preferred hers neat, proper, and well-spoken, she meant it. The kind who played piano in their spare time or golfed at exclusive country clubs, not the ones slinging cocktails in dim bars with sleeves of tattoos and a smirk that knew too much.

She’d worked too hard to get where she was. That's why Sana valued ambition, intelligence, and stability in a partner. Someone with long-term goals. So no, she wouldn’t be swayed by someone who didn’t meet her standards.

…

Surprisingly, spending time with her coworkers turned out to be more enjoyable than Sana had expected. For the past six months, she had kept her interactions strictly professional and friendly but always guarded. She respected boundaries, especially in a corporate environment where lines could blur too easily. But tonight, something felt different. Maybe it was the warmth of laughter shared across the table or the way conversations flowed effortlessly without being about deadlines and reports.

Four rounds of cocktails had come and gone, each loosening the edges of conversation, softening the air with laughter and warmth. Then came the bottle of champagne, cold, glistening, and celebratory.

Jihyo stood at the head of the table, holding it high like a trophy. “To the approved presentation,” she declared, her eyes gleaming, “and to Sana, finally joining us!”

Cheers erupted around the table. Glasses clinked, voices overlapped, and for a moment, the small bar was filled with nothing but joy.

Sana giggled as she toasted her glass with them. She sipped on her champagne. It was sweet at first, but when the third glass went down, the bubbles tickled her nose. She felt a warmth spreading through her head; she was starting to get a bit tipsy.

"Seriously, why are you so strict at work?" asked Dahyun, who seemed comfortable talking to her boss now that she had alcohol in her system.

Sana laughed, not offended in the slightest. "It's work. We need to be professional and meet deadlines."

Tzuyu snorted. "With or without deadlines, you're always on top of things. It's impressive, but you're always stressing yourself out."

"Good thing you came with us here. Right, guys?" Jihyo said, raising her glass in a toast.

The group clinked their glasses together, all smiling at Sana.

"You deserve a break every now and then," Nayeon added, nodding in agreement. "You should come with us at least once a week or, like, twice a month."

Sana laughed while shaking her head. "Yeah, I'll try to make time for that. Thanks, guys."

…

Dahyun made her way through the crowd, weaving past tables and swaying bodies, toward the bar. The night had picked up, with laughter growing louder and the music humming beneath it all. She glanced over her shoulder at their table, Sana was fanning herself, cheeks flushed from the drinks and nonstop talking, clearly parched.

Sliding into a spot at the bar, Dahyun waited patiently as the bartender finished pouring a row of shots for a group of guys at the far end. When the woman finally turned her way, her face lit up with recognition.

“Dahyun, hi! What can I get you?”

The bartender's voice was low and warm. She had short, layered hair that framed her sharp cheekbones perfectly, and her large brown eyes shimmered with a kind of casual mischief. A silver ring pierced the center of her bottom lip, catching the light as she smiled. Her black tank top clung to her frame, showing off sculpted shoulders and arms dusted with tattoos that wrapped down to her wrists, some delicate, others bold. The small metal tag on her chest read: Momo.

“Momo,” Dahyun greeted back, matching her grin. “Hey, could I get a bottle of water?”

“Sure thing,” Momo said, reaching beneath the counter and handing her a cold one. “Big night? You guys celebrating something?”

“Yeah,” Dahyun leaned on the counter, resting her elbows and speaking over the rising chatter. “Sana finally joined us for drinks. It took us forever to convince her.”

Momo paused, her brow twitching slightly. “Sana?” she echoed, tilting her head. “Don’t think I’ve seen her around before.”

Dahyun turned, subtly gesturing toward their table with a nod of her chin.

Momo followed her line of sight.

And there she was.

Bathed in the warm, moody light of the bar, Sana sat at the center of the group like the sun in orbit. Her honey-brown hair shimmered every time she turned her head, and when she threw it back in laughter, something tugged at Momo’s chest, soft and unexpected. She watched Sana’s eyes crinkle with joy, the edges of her lips parting to reveal that disarming smile, and for a heartbeat too long, Momo didn’t move.

Dahyun smirked, catching the way Momo’s eyes lingered on Sana. “She’s my boss.”

Momo blinked, pulled from a daze, then chuckled under her breath. “Boss?”

“Yeah,” Dahyun nodded, her tone playful now, a mischievous glint flickering in her eye. “She’s our senior marketing executive. We all work under her. She’s probably the reason we’ve been here so often the past few months."

Momo laughed at that, the sound low and genuine. “Really? She doesn’t look that intimidating from here. She actually seems…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze shifted again to Sana, who was now leaning closer to Nayeon, whispering something with a sly smile playing on her lips. She tilted her head slightly, a small smile forming. “She seems nice.”

“I think so too,” Dahyun agreed, swirling the condensation around the bottle in her hand. “She’s just... you know, very polished and structured. Sometimes I think she forgets she’s human like the rest of us.”

Momo raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”

“Not that bad,” Dahyun said thoughtfully. “Just… tightly wound. Like, always two seconds away from opening her laptop to check emails, even at lunch. But tonight? This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her. Laughing, actually eating outside her office, letting people tease her without biting back.”

Momo hummed, intrigued. “Sounds like she needs more nights like this.”

“Exactly,” Dahyun said with a knowing grin. “Maybe it’s because she’s a newly promoted leader and still adjusting to the added responsibilities. All that pressure makes it hard to switch off. It’s nice to see her letting loose for once.”

Momo nodded, her eyes drifting back to the table, back to Sana. She caught the exact moment Sana tossed her head back and laughed, eyes squinting with joy, posture loose and at ease. There was something captivating about it, something interesting.

Dahyun breathed out and nudged the bottle of water toward Momo. “I’ll go back to the table. Nice talking with you.”

“Anytime,” Momo said with a smile, fingers curling around the counter. Her gaze lingered for a moment as Dahyun turned away.

As a new customer waved her down, Momo moved into action, pouring a mix of liquors with effortless hands. But between each splash, her eyes flicked toward the group, toward Sana who was still laughing, still glowing under the dim amber lights.

Momo wasn’t the type to get curious easily. But tonight? She found herself hoping the celebration would last just a little longer.

Dahyun got back to the table and wiggled her way through the crowd to rejoin the group, slipping into her seat just as Sana was mid-laugh. She handed over the bottle of water without a word, and Sana gratefully took it, unscrewing the cap and gulping it down like she hadn’t had a sip all night.

“Look, Sana,” Jihyo said, leaning in with a teasing grin. “You need to loosen up. Open yourself to the world a little. It's not like you’re signing a marriage certificate. Just enjoy things as they come.”

Dahyun slid back into her seat, catching the tail end of the conversation. Her brows lifted in amusement. “What are we talking about?”

Before Jihyo could answer, Nayeon smirked and leaned across the table. “Our boss here is so busy, her pussy is becoming a desert wasteland.”

“Shut up!” Sana gasped, her voice high-pitched as she swatted at Nayeon’s arm, mortified. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as laughter rippled through the table. “Can we not talk about my sex life in public?”

“Too late,” Tzuyu chimed in, sipping her drink. “She hasn’t been dating around for years. I bet that’s why she’s so uptight.”

“I am not uptight,” Sana groaned, dropping her head onto Jihyo’s shoulder like hiding there would make the conversation disappear. “You guys are mean.”

“Babe, you’re lovely,” Jihyo said, patting her head fondly. “But you are a little... tense. You want everything done perfectly and on time, every report, every brainstorm, every project outline. You even color-code our team decks.”

“That’s called being organized,” Sana mumbled, sitting upright again, pouting. “I just want everything to run smoothly.”

“You need to have sex,” Nayeon cut in with zero hesitation, her voice casual like she was recommending a good book.

Sana gasped. “That’s not the solution to everything!”

“It kind of is,” Nayeon argued, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You need to let someone blow the dust off, if you know what I mean.”

The table exploded into laughter. Even Jihyo was struggling to keep a straight face as she handed Sana a napkin for her imaginary tears.

“I hate all of you,” Sana muttered, though her smile betrayed her.

“No, but really,” Nayeon said, sobering just slightly. “When the sex is good, it’s like magic. Everything else gets easier. Your skin glows. Your stress melts. You start liking Mondays.”

“I don't think that’s scientifically proven,” Sana deadpanned.

“Let me be your case study,” Nayeon grinned. “I'm trying to have my way with that hot bar owner."

"Mina?" Sana asked, raising an eyebrow with a weird expression.

"Oh, yes," Nayeon confirmed with a sly smile. "I need to have sex with her soon."

Across the table, Jihyo, Dahyun, and Tzuyu burst into laughter, the kind that made shoulders shake and cheeks ache. Sana winced, horrified and amused by Nayeon's bluntness.

“You seriously need to level up your standards,” Sana said, giving her a side-eye. “I’m sure there are more emotionally stable options out there for you.”

“I don’t want a better option,” Nayeon shot back, smug and unbothered. “I want better sex, the kind that makes me scream, see stars, and forget my name. Maybe even my address.”

That sent the others into another round of uncontrollable laughter. Dahyun practically choked on her drink, and Tzuyu had to fan herself, muttering something about secondhand embarrassment. Jihyo just leaned back, wiping tears from her eyes.

Sana shook her head with mock disapproval, but the corners of her lips finally gave in. She laughed, genuinely laughed, behind her hand, shaking with reluctant amusement.

“God,” she muttered, eyes crinkling. “You’re insane.”

“And proud of it,” Nayeon said, raising her glass again.

Tzuyu, still giggling, reached out to high-five her, only to miss by a wide margin and accidentally knock over Sana’s water bottle. It toppled with a loud thud, splashing water across the center of the table.

“Ah—!” Sana flinched instinctively, checking her lap. Thankfully, it was dry.

The rest of the table? Not so lucky.

“Oops,” Tzuyu said, eyes wide.

Then came the inevitable: laughter. Loud, uncontrollable, tear-inducing laughter as napkins were thrown across the table and everyone scrambled to mop up the minor flood. Jihyo was the first to react, grabbing a handful of napkins and dabbing at the spill with a grin on her face.

“I swear, we’re a walking disaster,” she said, laughing through her words.

Nayeon and Sana stood up to help, both reaching for napkins, still chuckling. The spilled water only seemed to bring them closer together. They were less like coworkers now and more like a group of friends who had weathered deadlines and deliverables and were finally learning how to laugh together.

“I think we’ve had enough drinks for the night,” Sana said with a playful smile as she tried to wipe up a puddle by her glass.

“No, we’re fine,” Tzuyu insisted dramatically, holding her hands up. “Nayeon unnie is just clumsy.”

Nayeon gasped in mock betrayal. “Your long arms caused this!”

“You missed my high-five!”

“That’s because your reflexes are trash.”

Sana giggled, pressing her palm to her forehead. “Alright, alright. I’ll get us some water. Anyone else want one?”

“Yes, please,” Jihyo said, still dabbing at the soaked napkins. She raised her hand to signal the waitress, who was already making her way over with a bemused smile.

“Want me to come with you?” Nayeon asked, lifting her brows in offering.

Sana shook her head gently. “No, it’s okay. I’ll stop by the restroom first.”

And with that, she walked off, her figure weaving through the dimly lit bar, the distant sound of glasses clinking and laughter trailing behind her. For once, she wasn’t itching to check her phone or mentally reviewing tomorrow’s schedule. She simply walked with a lightness in her step that hadn’t been there when she arrived.

Sana made it to the restroom with the biggest smile she’d worn all night, her cheeks aching in the best way. She was genuinely glad she’d said yes. She’d expected polite conversations and a quick excuse to leave early, but instead, she found herself... relaxing. Laughing. Belonging.

After finishing up, she washed her hands, then moved in front of the mirror. She fixed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, ran her fingers through her growing locks, and reached into her purse for a small tube of tint. As she dabbed a soft cherry stain on her lips, Nayeon's voice echoed in her head:

“You need to have sex.”

Sana snorted out loud, shaking her head.

"What the hell," she muttered to her reflection.

She tilted her head and looked at herself. Objectively speaking, she looked good. Her skin was clear, the light blush on her cheeks from the drinks only enhancing her features. Her hair had finally grown past her shoulders, soft and dark brown and framing her face in a way she actually liked. And her lips, subtly tinted now, had the fullness of someone who smiled more than she used to.

Did she need sex to feel beautiful?

Hell no.

As she stepped out of the restroom, the murmur of the bar greeted her again. Music low, voices lively, laughter pulsing like a heartbeat through the room. The shift in energy hit her immediately. Looser, warmer, and a little hazier now that the drinks had kicked in. Sana wove through a pair of patrons hovering near the bar, her eyes scanning the counter as she approached.

Behind the bar, two bartenders worked with fluid precision. Bottles flipping, shakers rattling, garnishes landing with flair. She waited for an opening, then lifted her hand slightly to catch someone’s attention.

A woman approached her with an easy stride.

She had long hair brushed back in soft waves, wide dark eyes under feathered brows, and a smile that was equal parts friendly and knowing. Her black tank top clung comfortably to her frame, exposing scattered patches of ink that snaked around her toned arms, delicate line work, soft shadows, and bursts of color. She wasn’t tall, maybe around five feet, but she moved like someone ten inches taller, quietly confident.

“Hi,” the woman greeted, voice smooth and casual. “What can I get for you tonight?”

Sana squinted slightly at the small silver tag on her chest. Chaeyoung.

“Hey,” Sana returned the smile. “Can I get five bottles of water?”

Chaeyoung gave a small nod and ducked below the counter to the cooler. She moved efficiently, placing five glass bottles onto the bar with soft thuds. Her gaze lingered a second longer than necessary, eyes scanning Sana’s face, not with flirtation, exactly, but curiosity. Admiration. A little recognition.

“Pretty crowded tonight,” Chaeyoung said as she slid the last bottle into place. She followed Sana’s line of sight over to the corner table where laughter rang out loudest. “You with Jihyo?”

Sana nodded. “Yeah. Can I also have the bill? I’ll pay for everything.”

Before Chaeyoung could respond, someone called out from across the bar.

“Hey!” a voice rang. Familiar, low, and firm.

Chaeyoung turned her head, and Sana followed her gaze.

Momo was leaning over the bar from the far side, a damp towel thrown over her muscular shoulder, hands braced against the counter. Her expression wasn’t irritated exactly, more playfully exasperated, with a teasing gleam in her eyes.

“I’ll take care of that,” Momo called out. “You take care of the customers.”

Chaeyoung laughed under her breath. “Okay, mate,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

The two bartenders murmured something between them, inaudible but filled with amusement. Momo nudged Chaeyoung’s side with her elbow as she passed, and Chaeyoung mock-pushed her back with a grin.

Sana watched all of it quietly, her head tilting ever so slightly. She furrowed her brows with a pinch of annoyance and curiosity. Was that professional? Bartenders play-fighting during service hours? She knew bars were looser than boardrooms, but still shouldn’t they be more focused?

Then she shrugged it off. It wasn’t her place to manage strangers.

"Hey," one of the bartenders called, drawing her attention again.

The woman with the lip piercing had stepped into her line of sight. Up close, she had a quiet kind of presence, firm but not overbearing. Her name tag read, Momo.

“Sorry about that,” Momo said with a small smile. “Sana, right?”

Sana’s eyebrow rose almost immediately, her head tilting. Her name? Her eyes scanned Momo’s face instinctively. It was... decent. A strong jawline softened by a full-lipped smile. Warm brown eyes that glinted under the soft lighting. Not unattractive, she noted. But the lip piercing, a silver stud in the center, stood out like a sore thumb. It was the kind of choice Sana never understood. It threw off the whole balance of the face.

Still, before she could ask how Momo knew her name, the bartender answered.

“Your friend, Dahyun, mentioned you earlier.”

Sana’s stiff posture eased slightly as understanding settled in. “Oh,” she said with a nod. “That makes sense.”

Momo extended a hand across the bar. “Momo.”

Sana hesitated just a fraction before accepting it.

Her eyes flicked down to Momo’s forearm, where tattoos crept out from beneath her sleeve like ivy, layered designs, bold lines, and small symbols that were hard to decode at a glance. The colors were faded in places, the art seemingly abstract or chaotic depending on the angle.

Sana’s nose flared the slightest bit. Messy. That was her first thought. Cluttered. Like an unfinished mural someone never stepped back from. Still, she smiled, tightly and politely, and took the bartender’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said, her tone even.

Momo’s grip was firm and brief. She didn’t comment on the hesitation or the way Sana’s eyes flicked to her arm. She simply nodded once, her smile not fading.

"What can I help you with?" Momo retracted her hand smoothly.

"Bill, please," Sana requested, reaching for her wallet.

“Going home early?” Momo asked casually, already reaching for the nearby iPad to process the bill. Her eyes flicked toward the corner where Sana’s coworkers were now clinking glasses again, one of them dramatically gesturing while talking. “That’s not very common for them.”

Sana chuckled, casting the table a knowing look. “No, I just like to pay ahead so I can dip when I want to. No need to wait for someone to remember the bill hours later.”

Momo nodded approvingly. “Smart. They just ordered another bottle of champagne, by the way. It might be a while before that party slows down.”

Sana gasped and shook her head in mock dismay. “These people never know when to call it a night.”

“They're hard drinkers,” Momo said with a slight grin as she tapped on the screen. “They’ve been here almost every Friday this past month, like a schedule.”

“Really?” Sana’s eyes widened slightly, surprised. “God, their kidneys must be made of steel.”

Momo chuckled and slid the terminal toward her. “Either that, or they just want to have fun.”

Sana inserted her card and watched the screen. “Yeah, right.”

Momo handed her the receipt and card in one smooth motion. “You don’t strike me as the wild Friday night type,” she said, tilting her head. “How come it’s the first time I’ve seen you here?”

Sana pocketed the receipt, shrugging lightly. “I usually spend Fridays in my pajamas, binging YouTube videos or catching up on my readings and sometimes regretting everything I’ve ever said in meetings.”

“That sounds... surprisingly relatable,” Momo replied, laughing. “So what changed tonight?”

“Peer pressure,” Sana deadpanned. “They dragged me out. Something about team bonding and loosening up, boss.”

Momo raised a brow, clearly amused. “Boss, huh?”

Sana giggled, a small, genuine sound. “That’s a bit of a stretch. I manage them, sure, but half the time I feel like I’m just babysitting a bunch of overgrown toddlers with keyboards.”

“They seem like a handful.”

“They are a handful,” Sana agreed with a mock sigh. “But good at what they do. Unfortunately.”

There was a pause, comfortable, but with a new kind of vibe.

Momo tilted her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Someone said you need to loosen up and have fun.”

Sana immediately stiffened. Her cheeks began to flush as Nayeon’s voice echoed again in her head: You need to have sex. For a terrifying half-second, she thought Momo might be referencing that comment.

But Momo leaned in with a smirk. “Dahyun told me you’re a bit strict at work.”

Sana let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Thank God. “What?!” she laughed, shaking her head. “They’re just dramatic. I ask for one organized shared drive, and suddenly I’m a dictator.”

“Well,” Momo said thoughtfully, “a fun dictator is still a dictator.”

They both laughed.

Then Momo’s expression changed. Something about it sharpened, but not in a threatening way. More like a spark of challenge.

“Do you want to have the best night of your life?” Momo asked suddenly, eyes glinting.

Sana blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” Momo said, leaning her arms on the bar. “The kind of night that makes you feel like you’re floating. Everything soft and warm and perfect for just a little while.”

Sana raised a brow, intrigued. “Sure. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

Momo smiled, then raised a single finger. “Wait here.”

She disappeared toward the back of the bar, where the lights dipped lower and the music softened. A few seconds later, she returned holding a small plastic container. White, about the size of a Mentos tin. She placed it gently in Sana’s hand.

Sana looked down at it, suspicious. The label had been peeled off. It was faintly warm from Momo’s hand. She frowned. “What’s this?”

Momo rested her weight on the bar, clearly enjoying this. “If you want to have the best night of your life… take one. Completely harmless, I promise.” She winked. “I even set a few aside for your friends. Tell them it’s on me.”

Sana looked at her stiffly. “Is this candy?”

“Kind of,” Momo replied. “Mood candy.”

Sana’s grip tightened slightly on the container. She whispered, “Are you giving me drugs?”

Momo grinned, unbothered. “Just a little magic.”

There was a long pause between them. Something heavy but not quite threatening. Electric, uncertain.

“I’m kidding,” Momo added finally, but her tone wasn’t entirely convincing. “Sort of.”

Sana narrowed her eyes. “You can’t say ‘sort of’ when someone asks if it’s drugs.”

Momo shrugged. “Fine, then. It’s vitamin happiness.”

Sana stared at the box in her hand, then back at the woman who gave it to her. “You know if I die tonight, you’ll be the first person they interrogate.”

“I’d like to see them try,” Momo replied with a wink.

Sana blinked, unsure if the woman was joking or daring her. She looked at the small container still warm in her hand. It didn’t rattle much. The soft sound of pills shifting inside was muffled by whatever lining was in there. Her eyes darted to the bar, where Momo was now helping a couple order beers, laughing like she hadn’t just handed out tiny drugs.

Sana hesitated a second longer, then, with a small sigh and a whispered, “What the fuck,” slid the container into the pocket of her slacks.

With arms now full of five bottles of water, water droplets trickling onto her skin, she made her way back to the table. The moment the group spotted her, a cheer erupted.

“She lives!” Dahyun exclaimed dramatically.

Sana rolled her eyes and grinned as she carefully set the water bottles down on the table. She took the empty seat beside Tzuyu, who immediately leaned in and snatched one bottle for herself.

Then, casually, like it was nothing, Sana pulled the small container from her pocket and placed it in the middle of the table.

The effect was instantaneous.

Nayeon cut off mid-sentence, her mouth dropping open. Jihyo, mid-laugh, froze like a video on pause. Dahyun raised a curious brow, trying to make sure she wasn’t imagining it. Tzuyu gasped.

Sana tilted her head at their reactions. “Momo gave it to me,” she said, nudging the container slightly toward the center. “Said it’s on her.”

Nayeon let out something between a squeal and a gasp. “No way. She gave you some?”

Jihyo leaned forward immediately, snatching up the container like it was treasure. She popped open the lid, and a few smooth, five white pills scattered gently onto the table, gleaming faintly under the bar’s soft golden light.

Tzuyu reached for two right away, cradling them delicately in her palm before passing one to Dahyun, who accepted it with a smirk.

“We haven’t had one of these in weeks,” Tzuyu said, her voice almost quiet. “I thought Momo was not selling anymore."

Nayeon clapped her hands together, nearly bouncing in her seat. “God, Momo always comes through when we need her.”

“Bless her lip ring,” Dahyun muttered before downing her pill with a sip of water.

“We really needed this boost,” Jihyo said, picking up one between her fingers. She twirled it, inspecting it, and then popped it into her mouth with a grateful smile. “Work’s been kicking my ass.”

Sana stared, stunned.

It was clear now. This wasn’t some shocking new mystery substance to them. They knew it. They trusted it. They’d done this before, and more than once.

Her voice came out slower than intended. “Wait… so you’ve all taken these before?”

“Uh, yeah,” Nayeon said, popping one into her mouth and chasing it with champagne. “It’s like… soft serotonin.”

“It’s harmless,” Jihyo added, waving a dismissive hand. “Just something to help mellow out. It focuses your buzz, makes the lights prettier, makes people funnier.”

“We only do it in safe spaces,” Tzuyu said gently, trying to reassure Sana. “Momo screens when she gives it out.”

“Plus,” Dahyun chimed in, “it’s not like ecstasy or whatever. It’s a micro-thing. Half the time you barely even notice it. You just feel better.”

Sana looked at the last remaining pill sitting alone on the table. Sana’s gaze snapped to them. “Wait… what is this exactly?”

All four women looked at her, blinking in unison.

"You’ve never had one before?" Dahyun asked, her tone casual but genuinely surprised.

“No,” Sana said slowly, watching as Tzuyu popped one into her mouth and chased it with a sip of champagne like it was nothing. “Is it… drugs?”

Nayeon snorted, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s not like that. It’s not that kind of drug.”

“Then what kind is it?” Sana pressed, eyeing the remaining pill at the table.

Jihyo looked up, the remaining pill balanced between her fingers. “It’s like… I don’t know. Momo calls it vitamin happiness. It just makes things a little warmer, softer. Time slows down a bit. Makes you feel good without the crash.”

“Kind of like MDMA,” Tzuyu offered, too casually.

“Except milder,” Dahyun added. “And cleaner. Momo knows her stuff.”

Sana's mouth parted slightly in disbelief. "You guys have been taking this?"

“Only when we really need it,” Nayeon said with a grin. “It’s not like we’re addicts. We just… optimize our nights out.”

Sana’s stomach twisted. Not in fear, exactly. But something close. Discomfort. Maybe betrayal. Maybe curiosity, too, and excitement.

“But it’s illegal, right?”

Silence.

“Well,” Jihyo began, “it’s not… legal, technically.”

“Depends what country you're in,” Dahyun muttered.

Nayeon leaned closer to Sana, resting her chin on her hand. “Don’t look so shocked. We’re still the same idiots you’ve been managing at work. This just makes us less cranky and more affectionate. You might actually like us more after one of these.”

The bar hummed around them. Low music, glasses clinking, laughter bouncing between tables. Their booth was tucked away like a secret. The lights overhead cast everything in gold. Her friends were softer, brighter, and real in a way she hadn’t seen before.

Sana's heart thudded in her chest as she reached out. She held the pill delicately between two fingers. She looked at it, really looked as if it might reveal something about her life, her choices, the weight she carried at work, and the exhaustion under her skin.

Then she looked at them, laughing, flushed, free.

Her voice came out in a whisper. “Just one night.”

She placed the pill on her tongue and reached for her drink, letting it slide down easily.

Nothing happened.

Not immediately.

But a few minutes later, as Jihyo burst into laughter and Nayeon swayed to the beat of a song she half-sang under her breath, something inside Sana shifted.

The bass of the music slowed down. Her chest, usually so tight, felt a little lighter. The world didn’t blur. It expanded. Every light looked softer, every sound warmer. Her limbs didn’t buzz, but they felt fluid. And her laugh? It came easier.

She turned to Tzuyu and said something she couldn’t even remember five seconds later, but Tzuyu laughed so hard she nearly fell into Dahyun’s lap.

Nayeon grabbed her hand and pulled her into a small, ridiculous dance in their booth. Jihyo leaned against her shoulder at some point and whispered, “Welcome to the magic of the night."

And for the first time in a very long time, Sana didn’t feel like a boss.

She felt like a girl in a bar, surrounded by friends, glowing in the golden light, heart finally beating at the right tempo.

And it felt good.

So good.

…

The group was lost in the moment, letting go of all their worries and responsibilities as they danced and laughed together. Music thumped in their chests, glasses clinked, and limbs swayed freely under the spell of lights and carefully curated chaos. Sana felt like she was floating, carried by the beat and the warmth of her friends. Her laughter rang loud and real. The kind that left her cheeks sore and her heart lighter.

As the night wore on, her throat grew parched from all the dancing, the shouting over music, and the giddy conversations. But she didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want the night to end. The magic had her in its grip, soft and thrilling all at once, like she was slipping into a dream.

Eventually, needing a moment to breathe, she excused herself and slipped away from the booth. The hallway leading to the restroom was dim and quiet, a stark contrast to the storm of sound behind her.

And that’s when she saw her.

Momo.

Black tank top. Low-slung cargo pants. Tattoos catching the low light.

Her muscular arm was folded across her chest, the other hand casually scrolling through her phone. Her lip ring caught a glint from the ceiling bulb. The moment felt carved out from the night, private, and slowed.

“Momo,” Sana said, slurred softly with a lazy, glowing grin.

Momo glanced up, and when she saw her, her whole face lit up. “Sana,” she said, sliding her phone into her back pocket. “Looks like someone’s vibing.”

Sana giggled, high and breathy, before closing the distance in just a few steps. She didn’t hesitate. Arms flung around Momo’s neck as she hugged her tightly, chest pressed flush against hers.

“I’m having the best time ever,” Sana said, eyes wide and gleaming.

Momo chuckled, her voice a low rumble against Sana’s ear. Her arms wrapped around Sana’s waist, holding her firmly but gently, like she knew exactly how fragile and electric this moment was. “Yeah?” she murmured. “Guess I did good, huh?”

Sana leaned back just enough to meet her eyes. Their faces were close. Too close. Momo's breath was warm against her cheek. Their noses nearly touched.

Sana smiled even wider, then reached up and playfully tapped Momo’s nose with her finger. “You’re the best,” she whispered.

Momo froze for just a second. Her eyes flicked down to Sana’s lips and back. Her mouth twitched into a small, knowing smile. She didn’t move. Neither did Sana.

The air between them stretched tight.

Sana’s hands lingered on Momo’s shoulders, her fingers tracing the warm skin and the ink she hadn’t seen up close before. She was hypnotized. The way Momo looked at her. Steady, amused, a little intense. It made her stomach flip.

The hallway was dim and quiet. Just them. The rest of the world is a blurred echo behind the walls.

“You look happy,” Momo said, her voice softer now.

“I feel…” Sana paused, searching for the word. “Light.”

Momo's smile deepened. “That’s the point.”

Sana let out a breathy laugh, then dropped her forehead to Momo’s chest, feeling the thud of her heart underneath. She closed her eyes. Jihyo's right, she needed this night more than she realized. Sana didn't feel like the usual dizziness of the alcohol. The world felt lighter, and she was like running through the wind.

Still, in the quiet between heartbeats, Nayeon's words flickered through her mind.

"You need to have sex."

She had laughed it off at the time, classic Nayeon, but now, in the low-lit hallway with Momo's body so close, her breath warm, and her scent a mix of alcohol and smoke, Sana wasn't laughing. She lifted her head slightly, just enough to see Momo’s face, her eyes lazy and soft with amusement, but something deeper swirled there too.

Sana blinked up at her, fluttering her lashes like they were too heavy. Her gaze lingered on Momo’s mouth, on her lip ring, then drifted back to her eyes.

"Do you think we should...?" Sana began, voice low, the words barely formed before her confidence wavered.

Momo tilted her head, her grin tugging slightly wider. “Should what?”

Sana hesitated, heat blooming across her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she was even entertaining this thought, not here, not now, but her body was thrumming, her skin buzzing, and her heart pacing like it was racing ahead of her.

"Should we... keep this night going?” she offered, her voice smaller now. “Just the two of us.”

Momo’s expression shifted and softened, not with surprise, but with clarity. She understood. It wasn’t just about sex. It was about release, about giving herself permission to want something, someone, in the moment. She reached up and gently brushed a strand of Sana’s hair behind her ear, her fingers grazing warm skin. “Is that what you want?”

Sana swallowed. Her heart said yes before her head could even catch up. “I think so,” she whispered.

Momo nodded slowly, her fingers still resting near Sana’s jaw. “Are you sure?"

A pause passed between them. Full of all the questions and promises that didn’t need words.

Then, gently, Momo leaned down, her lips brushing just near Sana’s cheek, dangerously close to her mouth but not quite there. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not sure about,” she murmured.

Sana’s fingers curled against Momo’s shirt, shivering at the touch of Momo's lip ring against her skin. “I’m sure,” she said, surprising even herself with how steady she sounded. “I just want to be fucked."

Momo smiled, slow, real, and dangerous.

…

Stumbling at the office, Sana's ass landed on the couch. Her slacks were being pulled down by Momo, who wasted no time in taking control. The air between them crackled with lust, only lust.

Sana felt hot, like hell. It was not just her body. It was her in her veins, pumping inside of her like blood. Her mind was foggy, and her core throbbed with need. Every time, her clothing disappeared and the heat increased. Sweat formed against her skin—on her forehead, on the back of her neck, on her spine, and between her thighs.

Sana was completely lost in the moment. She didn't know she was fully naked until she felt Momo's bites against her chest. She looked down and saw a trail of hickeys around her chest. And Momo, looked so good sucking her breast. That lip piercing was adding an extra spice to her biting.

Sana watched, and Momo looked up at her with dark, hungry eyes before opening her mouth to swirl her tongue on her nipple. Sana smiled while grasping Momo's hair tightly, shoving her closer to her breast. Momo grunted, sucking harder and biting down gently in every movement.

Moans were not quiet; they were as loud as the music outside the office. Sana didn't care. She only cared to be fucked.

"Is this what you want?" Momo whispered huskily, cupping Sana's face as she searched for her eyes.

Sana was now seated on the couch. It was not a big couch. It could only fit two people, and her naked back was resting on the soft cushions, and her legs were open with Momo kneeling in between. She leaned on Momo's touch, and her eyes batted lazily.

"Yes," she breathed out. "Please."

Momo admired from above, taking in the sight of Sana's flushed cheeks and parted lips. With a smirk, she leaned in closer. Kissed her, slowly at first, but then her tongue slipped in. It was harsh and messy. Their spit blended together, but Sana welcomed it eagerly, her hands gripping Momo's shoulders tightly.

With Sana's hips bucking upward into Momo's crotch, she fell down onto her back, pulling Momo on top of her. She was naked and she could feel the material of Momo's pants rubbing against her. Momo's hands roamed freely, exploring down to her side, and the other was pinned at the side of her head.

Momo looked down, and she saw wet spots on her pants. She chuckled lowly and gazed at Sana. "You're a mess."

Sana smirked and bucked her hips again to show Momo just how much of a mess she could be. She moaned as her clit brushed at a perfect angle against Momo's clothed center.

"Holy fuck, you're a slut," Momo whispered, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched Sana hump her like a wild animal. Sana's breath hitched at the word, her movements becoming more urgent and desperate.

Momo pulled back and sat on her knees at the edge of the small couch. It was a tiny space. Sana was curled on the couch, her legs spread wide open, and her knees were bent, making the space between them even smaller. She breathed out at the loss of contact.

"Momo, come on," Sana whined, sticky and needy. "Fuck me like the slut I am."

Momo released an amused chuckle and ran one hand on Sana's thigh and the other held Sana's knee to keep her legs open. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

"Hhmmmm," Sana moaned like a soft hum of agreement, her smile playing on her lips as she arched her back in response.

Momo reached at the cunt. She used her thumb to separate Sana's slick folds. It was soaked with white cream, her slit glistening in pink, and her clit peeking out, begging for attention. Momo gazed at Sana with hunger in her eyes, her mouth practically watering at the sight.

"Fuck, Sana," Momo whispered huskily, her voice thick. "You're such a delicious little slut."

Sana's mouth parted, and she let out a low moan. Momo's fingers traced teasing circles around her wet cunt. The wetness spread over her clit as Sana's hips instinctively bucked against the touch.

Momo observed. Her fingers continued their slow circles, and her eyes never left Sana's face, taking in every gasp and whimper that escaped her lips.

"Good?" Momo teased, feeling Sana's body tremble under her touch.

Sana opened her eyes. She licked her lips before replying, "Yeah."

"I bet," Momo whispered, a sly smile playing on her lips as she increased the pressure of her fingers on Sana's clit. Sana's breath hitched, and her eyes closed again as her hips began to move in rhythm with Momo's touch.

Two fingers dipped inside of her. Sana hissed at the sudden intrusion, but the sensation quickly turned into pleasure as Momo leaned down to suck on her nipple. Sana's moans grew louder, her nails digging into Momo's tattooed arm as she arched her back in ecstasy. "Don't stop," she begged, "please."

Momo fucked her. Fingers slid in and out of Sana's wetness, the sound of her cunt slick with arousal filling the room. Still, Momo spit on her fingers, adding more lubrication as she continued to fill Sana.

In every thrust, it curled. In every movement, it twisted. In every stroke, it hit just the right spot.

Sana was going insane. In the sound of her moans, Momo's grunts above her, the rush of the drugs inside of her, and her slick cunt clenching around Momo's fingers.

She came with a high-pitched cry, her body shaking with pleasure as Momo continued to fuck her. Her legs trapped Momo's hand as her hips bucked uncontrollably. Her brain just exploded for a moment.

"Jesus Christ," Sana gasped, her voice raspy from moaning.

Momo chuckled softly. Her eyebrows raised in amusement as she feels Sana's cunt pulse around her fingers. "You're fucking tight."

The air was heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. There was silent breathing before Momo shifted in her position.

Sana watched as Momo brought her fingers to her lips, licking them clean with a satisfied smirk. "You taste good," Momo murmured. "I wanna taste more."

Sana's heart raced, and in a beat Momo kneeled on the floor in front of her, pulling Sana's hips closer to her face. Sana's breath hitched as Momo didn't waste her time to trace a path from her clit to her entrance with her tongue.

Sana was moaning again. Slightly from the ghost of sensitivity to the upcoming wave of pleasure that Momo was about to bring her.

On that small couch, Sana gripped Momo's hair and fucked her mouth, moving to the flicking motion of her tongue.

Monday.

Sana stepped into the office, heels clicking softly against the marble tiles. She was dressed sharply. A leather skirt hugging her hips, a black long-sleeve top tucked in neatly, and a light brown blazer draped over her shoulders.

Senior Marketing Executive.

The title sat proudly on the gold-plated nameplate on her desk. She paused a beat, then slid into her chair. Her fingers moved quickly, unzipping her laptop bag, pulling the device free, and opening the lid, muscle memory at its finest.

As her monitor flickered to life, emails began to flood. She opened her calendar and scanned the day ahead. Meetings, reports, calls. All the familiar things. All the normal things.

But she didn’t feel normal.

Last week was a blur. A whirlwind of laughter, dancing, half-spoken conversations, and a night that ended in someone else’s arms.

She had fun. She knew that. She felt it.

There was no hangover. No pounding headache, no cotton-dry mouth, or regret creeping in behind her eyes. Just a strange… stillness. Her body felt rested, her limbs loose. But her mind? Hazy.

Memories shimmered like heat on pavement. Almost real, but slippery when she tried to hold them.

Momo’s eyes. The way they looked at her in the dim light, calm and dangerous.

Momo’s fingers brushed her jaw, trailing heat wherever they lingered.

Momo’s mouth, hungry. Her voice, low and breathless in Sana’s ear.

Her body remembered. Even now.

There were still faint, ghost-like marks on her skin where Momo had held her and kissed her. Her thighs still carried the ache of pleasure. And deep inside, between her legs, that lingering warmth of desire still pulsed.

Sana closed her eyes for a moment and let the rush hit her again. The weight of Momo above her and the way their bodies moved in sync, slow then desperate. She was begging for it. To be fucked.

Two days had passed, but the feeling hadn’t left. Momo had fucked her like a slut.

Sana opened her eyes and sat straighter, forcing her focus back to the screen. She clicked open the first email and tried to read it, but the words blurred. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard. And somewhere, beneath the stillness, something behind her head began to stir.

Then her office door opened.

It was Jihyo, the company’s sharp-as-nails marketing manager, with a stack of campaign briefs cradled in one arm.

“Hey,” she greeted, casually walking in like she owned the room. “I need your input on these new campaign ideas."

Sana blinked once, then twice. She snapped out of her daze just enough to minimize her inbox and turn toward Jihyo with a polite smile. “Yeah, sure.”

Jihyo froze mid-step and stared at her for a second. Her head tilted slightly. “You’re… glowing.”

Sana’s fingers twitched. Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?” she asked, feigning confusion as she reached for the papers.

“You look lighter,” Jihyo said, walking over and handing the documents. “Like you’re in a really good mood. Like you dropped a twenty-pound weight over the weekend or had… some kind of turning point.”

Sana scoffed, flipping through the pages. "We had a great time last Friday," she said, trying for nonchalance. "I haven’t partied that way for years."

Jihyo sat down in the chair across from her desk, resting her chin on her hand. She stared at Sana for a long while, the kind that made Sana feel like she was being X-rayed.

“Right,” Jihyo said slowly, her eyes scanning Sana from head to toe. “Except you never came back to the table.”

“I paid for everything before I left,” Sana replied quickly, reaching for a pen.

The silence between them hung for a beat longer than it should have.

Jihyo’s eyes dropped down to Sana’s outfit. Sleek, stylish, and subtle, and then to her posture. Looser, more open, and undeniably satisfied. She leaned back and grinned wickedly.

"Oh my God."

Sana raised an eyebrow, but it was too late.

"You definitely got fucked."

The words were like a slap and a shot of adrenaline all at once.

Sana's pen stilled in her hand, her eyes going wide. "What—?"

Jihyo cackled, standing up with the satisfaction of someone who had just solved a murder mystery. "I knew it. There’s only one reason someone walks into work on a Monday looking like they got eight hours of sleep and a full-body massage."

Sana opened her mouth to argue, to deny, to deflect, anything, but nothing came out.

Jihyo didn’t wait. She was already heading to the door, laughing like a kid who knew too much. “I’m telling the girls. Our boss finally got laid and is now glowing like a damn diamond.”

“Jihyo!” Sana yelped, bolting up from her chair.

Jihyo just winked over her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

The door shut behind her with a soft click, leaving Sana standing behind her desk, flustered, stunned, and slightly mortified.

She sank back into her chair, let out a long breath, and whispered to herself, “What the hell did I get myself into?”

But even then, the corner of her lips curled upward.

She was glowing, after all.

…

It was well past lunch, and the office had settled into that quiet, focused lull that always came after food and small talk. Sana was hunched slightly over her desk, her fingers darting across the keyboard as she sifted through the flood of emails following the morning’s meeting. Her screen was a blur of words, charts, and deadlines. None of which she fully absorbed. She was operating on muscle memory.

Her phone buzzed against the inside of her desk drawer, faint and muffled. The screen lit up briefly with a number she didn’t recognize. No name. No company tag. Just a string of digits.

She stared at it. Probably just a scam. Or worse, a telemarketer trying to sell her insurance. She sighed and shoved the drawer closed again, the rattle of it echoing softly in her office.

Back to the screen.

But then, another ring.

This time, it wasn’t her mobile. It was the landline sitting on the edge of her desk, the one only a few people ever used anymore, only used inside the building for emergencies.

She reached for the receiver and pressed it to her ear, her voice clipped and professional. “Yes, this is Sana.”

“Miss Sana,” came the bright voice of the receptionist from the ground floor, cheerful but slightly nervous, “there’s someone here in the lobby asking to see you.”

Sana’s brows drew together as she leaned back slightly in her chair. “Who is it?”

There was a pause. It seemed like the receptionist was talking to the person in the lobby before responding, “Her name is Momo.”

The name hit her like a quiet thunderclap. Time froze for a second, her thoughts stuttering in her head. Momo.

Her throat tightened as her grip on the phone tensed slightly.

“Hirai Momo,” the receptionist added, drawing out the name slowly as if it needed confirmation. “She was asking for you specifically.”

Sana's heart slammed against her ribs, fast and loud. Heat crawled up her neck and flushed her cheeks. It was like her body had a reflexive reaction before her brain even caught up.

Oh fuck.

…

With her heels clicking against the polished floor, Sana, with her chin up, walked through the hallway, but her pulse betrayed her. It thudded in her chest, faster with every step she took toward the elevator. Before stepping out of her office, she had paused by the mirror, brushing her hair and reapplying a coat of lipstick that brought a little color back to her face. The soft pink was subtle but enough to give her the quiet confidence she suddenly needed.

The elevator ride felt endless.

Each floor lit up with an infuriating slowness, giving her too much time to think. Her reflection in the metallic surface stared back at her. And inside, Sana was a riot of nerves and adrenaline. Why was Momo here? Unannounced. In her building. Asking for her. That wasn’t part of the plan. There was no plan, she realized.

When the doors finally opened, a burst of cool air from the lobby greeted her. And with it came a flood of memories, the feel of Momo’s fingers against her skin, her body pressed close, lips calling her filthy names. The rawness of that night hadn’t faded. It stayed in her, like a tattoo under her skin.

Sana stepped out.

And there she was.

Momo stood near the seating area, dressed casually in a fitted black tank top of a band and ripped jeans, one hand in her pocket, the other idly scrolling through her phone. Sunglasses rested on top of her head, and her hair flowed at the sides of her face.

When Momo looked up, their eyes met.

That easy grin she always wore curled at her lips again, but there was something different in it today. Something almost cocky. Like she already knew the effect she had on Sana just by being there.

Sana’s breath caught, just for a moment. She lifted her chin and walked forward, steady and composed, but every step felt heavier than the last.

Momo tucked her phone away and stood straighter. “You look like someone who runs this place,” she said, a little too casually. Her eyes swept over Sana slowly, appreciatively.

“I do,” Sana replied, her voice firm. “Why are you here?”

Momo smirked and leaned in, her voice lower now. “Missed you.”

Sana didn’t know whether to laugh or roll her eyes, but she was annoyed. She looked around, wishing none of her employees were around to witness this. “Come on,” she said, voice clipped. “We’re not talking here.”

Sana dragged Momo to the back of the building, where the fire exit and emergency staircase were located. She needed to have a serious conversation with Momo away from prying eyes and ears.

She pushed the door open, and it groaned loudly. The moment they were out of sight, she let go of Momo’s wrist and turned to face her, arms crossing tightly over her chest.

“What do you want?” Sana demanded, voice cool and professional.

Momo raised an eyebrow, leaning back casually against the wall, arms loose at her sides. Her expression was calm. “Why are you acting like this?” she asked, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “I’m just visiting. Thought I’d say hi.”

Sana stepped back, keeping distance between them. Her eyes scanned Momo from head to toe. Sober, sharp, and brutally honest for the first time since that night. There were no strobe lights now. No alcohol humming through her veins. No drugs pumping inside her.

And what she saw made something bitter rise in her throat.

Tank top. Lip ring. Tattoos. Worn-out jeans. Momo looked like she had just walked out of a grunge band practice, not into the workplace of a top-tier marketing firm. The ink on her arms danced along her muscles, unapologetically bold. Her shirt clung to her in all the ways Sana remembered, but here, in the daylight, under the weight of reality, it just made her feel embarrassed.

Sana scoffed, folding her arms tighter. “What are you wearing?”

Though, to be fair. Momo looked hot. She looked so muscular, confident, and effortlessly cool in her unconventional attire. But it was not exactly appropriate for the office environment they were in.

Momo glanced down and shrugged, unfazed. “Just my usual casual attire. Why, is there a dress code I should know about?”

Sana rolled her eyes and looked away, jaw tightening. Her voice came quieter this time, but sharper. “You can’t just show up like this. People could see. Do you know what that looks like?”

Momo straightened, her smirk slowly widening like a predator. “What does it look like, Sana?”

Sana hesitated. The words were in her throat, but she didn’t want to say them out loud. That she was afraid of what people would think. That standing next to Momo felt like stepping out of line, like breaking some invisible image she had worked so hard to maintain.

“Unprofessional,” she said instead. “It looks unprofessional.”

Momo let out a low chuckle, mocking. Like she had been expecting this version of Sana to show up eventually. The professional one. The mindful one. The one who's obsessed with perfection.

She stepped forward with purpose, eyes never leaving Sana’s.

“Where is this attitude coming from?” Momo asked, her voice thick and intimate.

Sana stiffened, but before she could take a step back, her spine met the cold concrete of the wall. Momo’s arm slid up, pressing against the wall beside her head, and the other holding her hip, effectively caging her in.

The shift in energy was palpable.

The air between them cracked with tension, thick and strong.

“You’re not like this when you’re begging me to fuck you,” Momo whispered, her breath hot against Sana’s cheek, her voice low and calm.

Sana’s breath hitched. Her heart thudded violently against her ribs, not from fear, but from the thrill of having Momo so close, dominating her with just a few words.

She gulped. Momo’s words had hit her like a bolt straight to her core, dragging memories from the haze of Friday night. Her Hands. Her Tongue. Her Breath. Her Heat. Skin against skin. The sounds she made. The way she gave in. The way she wanted it. She wanted Momo.

And now, here she was, pressed between memories and the present, with Momo staring at her like she still read every thought spinning through her head. That same knowing smirk curved on her lips, the kind that made Sana feel hot.

Sana’s eyes fluttered, her breath shallow. She didn’t know whether to look away or hold her ground. Her pride whispered to retreat, but something deeper rooted her in place.

Momo leaned in closer, her lips grazing the shell of Sana’s ear, her voice a husky murmur that sent shivers down Sana’s spine. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she said. “You wanted everything I gave you, you filthy slut."

Sana’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Her heart was racing now, fast, panicked, and aching with anticipation.

Her fingers curled into Momo’s shirt, gripping tightly not to pull her closer or push her away, but because she needed to hold on to something.

Momo’s body pressed closer, her breath hot against Sana’s neck. Her lips ghosted along the curve of her jaw before dipping lower to leave a feather-light kiss against her skin.

Sana clenched her jaw, her eyes fluttering shut for a second too long. Her core clenched. The lines between right and wrong blurred, bent, and slipped through her fingers like smoke. She felt herself unraveling, inch by inch. Momo was good at this, too good. And Sana hated that part of her that didn’t want to stop it.

“I came here,” Momo murmured, lips brushing her skin, “because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Sana’s grip on Momo’s shirt tightened. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, loud and persistent. Then, suddenly, she shoved Momo away. Hands flat on her chest, firm and desperate.

"No," she breathed. Her voice cracked, but her stance held.

Momo barely took a step back before her smirk returned. She reached again, trying to close the space, trying to pin Sana back against the wall like the moment hadn't just broken. Like she hadn't heard her.

"It's just a one-night stand," Sana said, her voice low and strained. “I can’t do this.”

Her own words stung. They sounded hollow.

Momo tilted her head, amusement flashing in her eyes. “Don’t you miss me?” she asked, fingers trailing down Sana’s arm with maddening softness.

That touch, familiar and dangerous, was too much.

"Stop!" Sana snapped, the word bursting out of her with more force than she intended. Her chest was heaving. She was flushed, and not just from arousal, but also from frustration at Momo, at herself, and at everything that happened that night. “Leave me alone,” she said, more quietly now, almost pleading. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

It was a lie. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was both.

She didn’t wait for Momo’s reply. She pushed her again, harder this time, and brushed past her with a steady pace, refusing to look back. Her heels echoed down the hall, each step fueled by fury and something that felt almost like heartbreak.

Sana reached the elevator and slammed the button for her floor. Behind her, Momo didn’t call out.

The doors slid closed, sealing the space like a vault. Sana leaned against the mirrored wall, her reflection staring back at her, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, trembling lips. She felt hot and there was stir in her stomach.

Fuck you, Hirai Momo. You do bad things, and you're not good for me.