Podcast Recs

Finding the Right Mate -Klaus M.

Warning: Smut and mentions of abuse

(VD x Twilight Crossover)

"You're helping me enough Caroline, you don't need to worry. Giving me a place to go for a week away from him is exactly what I need. Thank you for everything you've done the last few days." Caroline had invited me to visit her in Mystic Falls the week before graduation. I was relieved as I was able to get away from my abusive mate for a little while, even if it was only for a week.

"I'm glad you think so Y/n, however I've said it before and I'll say it again, you can move down here and never have to go back to him. Think it over, I'll see you later at home, okay? I'll drive you to the airport tomorrow myself." I nodded, sitting in a booth in the grill while Caroline left to join the graduation committee which worked daily over the break which was the same days as the break in Forks. I knew she was super busy getting everything ready for graduation and I didn't mind, as long as I was here and not in Forks, Washington. The last week with my cousin had been great, a vacation in a sense before I go home tomorrow night and am shackled back to that idiot.

I was currently texting Bella who had been turned 2 months prior by her mate. Edward had both Bella and I believing we were his mates when we moved to Forks and that he would die without us, however when Garrett visited Carlisle he found his mate in Bella immediately, nearly killing Edward for trying to claim her as his own. I no longer believe I am Edward's mate as he doesn't treat me like it, nor does he care for me much at all, I'm just his human punching bag, but unless I can find my real mate I am stuck with pussy boy since he told me about the existence of vampires, he is responsible for me. Carlisle and Esme believe Edward whole heartedly that I am his, and as the leaders of the coven what they say goes, therefore Jasper, Alice, Emmett and Rose can't do anything to help me. I tried to get away from him the first time he hit me which was right after Bella was taken away by Garrett, however Edward told Carlisle I was 'being difficult' and Carlisle agreed that he was in his rights to punish me and teach me as he sees fit to be his "Perfect Mate".

I was sitting in a booth, eating lunch and expecting to be alone for the rest of the day without Caroline when a man approached me with a very happy smile on his face, one that was contagious. "Hello there love, are you new in town? I know I would have remembered seeing you before." This man was the definition of sexy and I wanted nothing more than to jump his bones right then.

"Um, not really, I've just been visiting my cousin Caroline for the last week. I'm Y/n Y/L/n." He took my hand in his delicately.

"Niklaus Mikaelson." He introduced, kissing the back of my hand like in one of those cheesy romantic movies, however he really made it attractive. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Do you want to sit?" I offered to him and he smiled wider, taking the seat across from me. There was something about this man that I immediately took a liking to and I wanted to see more of it. "Niklaus, that's an interesting name. Do people call you Nik?"

"Most people call me Klaus actually, but I would love it if you would call me Nik. Can I buy you a drink?" I nodded, smiling at him, trying to figure out if he was flirting with me or just being friendly.

Nik and I talked for the next 3 hours at that table and I have to admit after a few drinks I was a little tipsy.

"Come on kitten, I'll take you home. I don't think you should be walking by yourself." I nodded, standing and holding onto his arm, squeezing his bicep and giggling.

"You're super muscly." He smiled, placing his arm around my waist and walking me outside where it had gotten dark and I didn't even notice. "I can't figure you out Nik, you're like, impossible."

"What do you mean?" He asked as we walked down towards the residential area.

"I mean I can't tell if you're being nice, or you're flirting with me." We were almost to Caroline's house and I damned her for living so close to the grille as we approached the porch.

"What if I was flirting with you?" He sat us down on the front steps and I sighed at his question.

"I would be flattered, it's been a long time since a guy has been this sweet to me, however I need to tell you that I have a boyfriend back home." I expected him to get upset, but he just smiled, not looking at all shocked.

"I expected that, how could someone have not snatched you up by now? I don't understand though how you have a boyfriend but you just said a guy hasn't been as sweet as me in a long time...does this boyfriend not cherish you as you deserve?" I snorted at that and shook my head.

"Edward is...he's an asshole-"

"Then why are you dating him? If he doesn't treat you right, dump him and find someone who will." I shook my head, trying to find a way to explain this without exposing anything.

"I can't dump him, it's complicated and dangerous-"

"Dangerous...is he threatening you Y/n? Tell me and I'll take care of it for you-"

"Please stop...Nik, I don't want to be the reason you get hurt, please, I'm begging you, let it go?" He paused before nodding.

"Fine, I'll let it go for now, but I won't let you go. Come stay with me for the night? No one will ever know." I smiled at the thought of being with Nik for one night before I'm saddled with Edward for eternity.

"Just tonight, I have to be back tomorrow evening to get my plane." I agreed and the smile that lit up Nik's face was amazing. He lives in a mansion! A god damn mansion! I kept my underwear on and borrowed a shirt from him, pulling it on and seeing the blonde man watching intently as I cover my exposed skin. "See something you like?"

"Oh yes love, I like everything I see when I look at you." I laid down on the bed beside him but facing away, pulling the covers up and he leaned closer to me, his fingers trailing their way up my arm, giving me a chill and leaving me covered in goose bumps. "You are the definition of perfection...I hate that that boy takes you for granted-" He pulled me close so we were both laying on our sides, my back pressed against his chest. "-when he should be worshipping the ground you walk on." His fingers found their way around my thigh and up under the shirt I was wearing, massaging over my pantie line delicately.

"Our relationship is expected to be the other way around." I told him, trying to keep my breathing even but failing miserably as I felt my panties dampen.

"Let me show you what your life could be love." I knew he was asking, he wouldn't do anything unless I gave him permission and he was making that very clear, I could see it in his eyes when I looked back at him.

"I've...I've never-"

"It's okay." He cut me off, letting me know he understood. "Let me show you how a King worships his Queen." I couldn't find it in me to do more than breathe the word 'yes' but that was all he needed. He rolled me onto my back but stayed on my side, spreading my thighs and removing the covers from our bodies, leaving me exposed as he pulled his shirt over my head and tossed my panties somewhere.

"Nik-"

"Shh, just relax Y/n. This is all about you, just feel." Cold is what I felt before feeling his lips on my shoulder. His hand found my lower stomach again before caressing his way down slowly, stopping just before he got to where I needed him. He trailed one finger down my pussy making me gasp at the strange sensation, never having felt it before, not even from myself. "Are you alright with this? You can tell me to stop whenever you want to." I shook my head.

"Please don't stop...it's just I've never been touched like this, not even by myself." His eyes went wide and he looked confused. "I was 14 when I met Edward, he said that touching yourself was wrong and my first orgasm should be his when we get married." I was completely embarrassed and Nik seemed to know that, turning my head to face him.

"Well now your first orgasm is going to belong to me. And second, and third, and however many I can get out of you in one night." He smirked, leaning in and kissing me in a way that Edward never did, there was passion and love behind it and that was the moment I realized, after only a few hours of knowing him, I loved this man, it shouldn't be possible but it is and I refused to question it. He continued kissing me as his hand went back to work, pushing one finger inside of me followed by a second. It was an odd feeling but not necessarily uncomfortable. He worked them in and out of me slowly, his thumb trailing back up my slit and finding a spot that made my hips fly off the bed and made me squeal against his mouth. He pulled back, chuckling at my reaction and moving to kiss my neck, making me moan as he nibbled at my skin. I tried to relax my hips but the more Nik's thumb pressed against my clit the harder it got to relax. The 2 fingers inside of me had turned to 3 at some point and as he curled them upwards I gasped, clutching onto the sheets below me as Nik looked up at me smirking. He curled his fingers again slightly and my body jerked making the man do it again. He gradually sped up and as he sped up so did my breathing. I couldn't explain the feeling inside of me that seemed to be building the faster Nik got until I felt like I couldn't handle it anymore. The tension inside of me felt like it had snapped as my hips jerked up and I slapped my hand over my mouth trying to stop the scream that came from me. Nik's hand continued working as this happened and I could never in a million years explain the feeling in words as anything other than ecstasy, ecstasy that lasted for the next 30 seconds and left me gasping for air when it was over.

"I've been missing out on so much." I spoke, still breathing heavily.

"Yes you have love, this is what your boyfriend should be doing for you every day, and there are plenty of ways to go about it, I don't understand why he doesn't. Do you get him off?" I shook my head.

"Edward has never done more than kiss me, and not even the way you kiss me." Nik smirked and I was beginning to love that look on him.

"How do I kiss you?" I considered the difference for a moment and quickly figured out what it was.

"Like you enjoy it...like touching me and kissing me isn't a chore. I believe anything that has to do with physical contact bores Edward." Nik rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Why are you with this boy?" I giggled at the frustration on his face before grimacing as I moved my body.

"Where's your bathroom? I want to clean myself up a little bit, I'm uncomfortable." His eyes snapped back to mine and the mischievous smile on his face was enough to scare me.

"In that case, you're ready for your second orgasm of the night." My eyes widened and I leaned away from him a little before he grabbed me around the waist.

"Nik! Nik, wait! Let me clean up first! What are you doing?" He had turned me so I was laying sideways on the bed with no pillows behind me, pinning my hips down with his hands and leaning over me. "Will you listen to me?!"

"No." He stated simply, connecting our lips firmly and nearly making me forget why I was fighting him in the first place. "Trust me, I'm not yet done worshipping you." He kissed down my throat and chest, making a quick stop at each of my breasts, licking and nibbling at my nipples, and continuing down my stomach, dipping his tongue in my bellybutton which made me giggle and him look up at me. "I love learning more about your body princess, you're ticklish just about everywhere aren't you?" My eyes widened, knowing he would use that against me in the future, as he went back to his descent. He kissed down to my waist before lifting my legs at the knees and kissing up the inside of my thighs. I was delighting in the feel of his soft lips against my thighs when suddenly his tongue was pressing firmly against my clit. I gasped for air, trying to keep breathing as he worked his tongue against my clit every which way, keeping a constant pressure on me that was driving me insane. I opened my eyes and looked down at him as he pulled back, panting, his fingers stroking me as he locked his eyes on mine. "How's that princess? How does that make you feel?"

"It feels amazing! I never imagined something being able to feel this good, please don't stop?!" I pleaded and he smirked, diving right back in, his tongue getting back to work while his hands found my breasts, pinching my nipples between his fingers. I felt that beautiful tension begin to rise in me like last time and I reached my hand down, tangling my fingers in his short blond locks. "Nik...Oh my god! Niklaus!" I shouted his name as my orgasm tore through me, though Nik didn't slow down at all, in fact he sped up, moving his one hand down and inserting 2 fingers, curling them and thrusting them in and out of me, assaulting a spot in me that was making me see stars. I didn't have a second after one orgasm finished to calm down before another one started and I gasped, screaming and grinding myself onto his mouth as he cleaned me up just like he promised.

When he was finished he crawled back up my body, pulling his clothes off and cuddling me to him, wrapping us in the covers. "Did you enjoy your multiple orgasms?" He was smirking and he knew I had loved it, he also knew I couldn't form a sentence right now if life depended on it. "You're beautiful when you come love, simply beautiful. I want to be able to witness it for the rest of my life." I nodded feeling the tiredness from the alcohol and the exhaustion from his fingers and tongue collide and make me close my eyes already near unconsciousness.

"I wish you could." I mumbled, letting sleep take over me.

"Then why can't I? I'll take care of you, give you whatever you want for the rest of eternity...I'll treat you right...Y/n?"

"No Edward, I'm tired and you're cold. Let me sleep." I mumbled, trying to keep the vampire from pulling the blankets off of me like every other morning when I heard a short chuckle.

"What? You're half asleep aren't you. Y/n, I'm not-"

"Leave me to sleep, if you hit me again I'll yell for Jasper and he'll kick your vampire ass." I growled, shoving the hand from my shoulder.

"Vampire...Y/n, I need you to explain right now." I felt Edwards hand on my waist and pushed it away again, rolling over.

"I'm don't want to be your mate Edward, stop touching me!" I heard a low growling but the hands stopped after that and I continued to sleep.

~~~~

I awoke the next morning feeling great and I had slept straight through the night, something I hadn't done since I found out Edward liked to watch me sleep at night. I stood from the bed, pulling on my underwear and Nik's discarded shirt. I opened the bedroom door to the smell of breakfast cooking. I turned the corner to see Nik putting the box of eggs back into the refrigerator and I tip-toed up behind him only for him to spin around and lift me into the air. "Jerk! You're just like Emmett, no one can sneak up on you can they?" I kissed his cheek and stole a piece of bacon, biting into it.

"No, they can't, but to be fair, I'm the oldest vampire known to man-" I cut him off by choking on my bacon, coughing until he pat my back and I swallowed it completely.

"That wasn't funny Nik." I sat on the barstool and looked at him to see he wasn't laughing. "You're actually being serious?" He nodded once but said nothing else. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Well, it seems only fair, you told me you were mated to a vampire last night." My eyes went wide as I realized.

"I talk in my sleep too often to sleep anywhere but home apparently...Well, I suppose you knowing is better. I was dreading having to tell you 'Hey Nik, I'm in love with you but I can't be with you and I can't tell you why'."

"Right, you can't be with me because you let yourself be mated to someone who is not your mate. That makes it hurt so much less. Now, after 1000 years of searching for you, I still end up completely alone." Okay, now I'm officially confused.

"Let myself...you think I would ever let him do anything to me? He lied to me and my friend Bella the day we met him, told us we were his mates, we were 14 years old, and completely human, how were we supposed to know it wasn't true!? It's not like he can do anything until we're turned anyway, then Bella has to find Garrett, her real mate, he changes her and she leaves me with Edward all alone. He loses his fucking mind, starts beating the crap out of me, Carlisle and Esme won't do anything though cause they think I'm his mate, he tells them I'm 'difficult' and they just let him go on hitting me, like it's completely fine, like he's just molding me into the perfect mate. Jasper and Alice want to help me, Emmett and Rose want to help me but they can't go against Carlisle, he saved them, they owe him. Now I get to go home today after meeting the perfect guy and completely falling in love with him in a matter of hours, to go to a high school graduation tomorrow and then I get to burn for 3 days and spend the rest of my life sparkling like a fucking disco ball all because I moved to the rainiest town in the US and some 100 year old virgin vampire decided to ruin my life!" By the time I had finished ranting I had paced back and forth across the living room 4 times and collapsed against a wall, sobbing and unable to stop.

"They're not vampire's love, you're talking about cold ones. They drink blood but they can hardly be called vampires." I looked at Nik who was now kneeling in front of me. "Cold ones can't mate with humans, they need to change them first-"

"Which is what Edward is going to do to me tomorrow night, he's going to change me and-"

"No."

"No?" I asked, confused.

"No. You're my mate love, I thought you had already been marked by a vampire, in which case we wouldn't be able to be together. See real vampires have a small amount of venom where cold ones have venom instead of blood. Our venom can only be used once and that is to mark our mate. I thought you had been marked by another one of my kind, in which case I wouldn't be able to mark you as mine-"

"But since I haven't been you can and I can be with you?" He nodded and I grinned, launching myself forward and into his arms. "I thought I was going to have to spend the rest of my existence with an idiot who beats me."

Nik held onto me for the next few minutes, just letting me cry. “I would never have let that happen to you, even if I couldn’t mark you.”

"If vampires can only mark their mates how would I have been marked by anyone else?"

"You can mark anyone, in fact it's become a thing to mark the first person a vampire loves and not wait for their mates. I've spent 1000 years waiting for you."

"No pressure." I joked and he smiled.

"None at all, you are perfect, at least you are when you get rid of all the cold one problems, and I plan to very soon. Step one to my plan is to get a ticket on the plane you're getting on tonight." I was confused as he led me to the table and put my plate of breakfast in front of me.

"Why? I don't need to graduate, I can just stay here with you and never go back to see him again."

"You're graduating, and don't worry, we'll come back here afterwards, after I talk with this coven leader about how to identify mates, and after I kill Edward Cullen." I was thrilled with that and Nik and I spent the rest of the day talking, getting to know each other. He explained his family and how he became a vampire, having broken his curse, killed Mikael and freed his family only months ago while I explained Bella and I, the Volturi (who apparently knew my mate very well) and the Cullen's, of which he promised not to hurt the 4 who actually helped me. "I think the animal diet is going to their heads, it's the only think I can think." He told me as we sat on the plane that night. "One thing I can't get out of my head is what you said about Jasper."

"What about him? I don't know all that much about what he did before he and Alice came to find Carlisle, he doesn't go into detail when I'm around. I know that he trained Newborns." Nik's eyes widened and he smiled as I said this.

"Jasper Whitlock. Maria's right hand, I remember him. Maria and I had a few dealings when Katerina was on the run through Mexico a century ago. Good soldier, definitely not a man I want around you though." I could see the worry on his face and resisted asking questions I knew Jasper didn’t want me to know.

"Jasper is different now. He told me stories about what he was like back then, and honestly it doesn't shock me. After so many years of slaughter and carnage, how do you not lose your humanity? He has Alice now and she saved him, feeds on animals so he doesn't feel the emotions of the people he eats, plus Alice is a happy, upbeat fairy like girl, he feeds off of that energy, keeps him from being depressed I suppose. You'll like Jasper as he is now, he's my best friend. I think you'll like Emmett too, he looks tough but he's a big teddy bear. One of them usually stays in or nearby my room when I sleep at night."

"Why?" Nik wondered, looking at me worriedly.

"I have nightmares, I haven't slept all the way through a night since I came to Forks 4 years ago, also I'm scared of Edward."

"In your sleep?"

"When I'm not expecting it..." It took him a moment to figure out what I was talking about.

"You're afraid of him raping you?" I nodded.

"Just because he hasn't doesn't mean he won't. It probably won't happen, I just think it's better to be safe than sorry. Jasper and Emmett just think it's because they keep the nightmares away." He looked at me completely heart broken.

"That's not something you should have to say about someone you live with. You shouldn't be scared of something like that in your own home. I promise you that no man besides me will ever put his hands on you again. You're safe with me, I swear it."

"I know I am, I slept all the way through the night last night. I trust you Nik and I felt safe even when I thought you were completely human." He leaned over the armrest, kissing my forehead and pulling me close, allowing me to nap on his chest until we got to Port Angeles. It was nearly midnight and I was supposed to get a room for the night in the hotel down the street and be picked up by Jasper tomorrow.

I watched Nik get us a hotel room before I stepped up and used Carlisle's card to get my own. "What are you doing?" Nik asked.

"Edward will check the card to make sure of where I'm staying, he will also ask the workers so don't let them see you talking to me." He nodded, taking his bag and walking off to the elevator.

"Friend of yours?" The man behind the desk asked as he came back with my room key and I smiled.

"Not really, we realized we were going to the same hotel at the airport and shared a cab, he's a nice guy I suppose." I shrugged, taking the key and walking off. I got to my room and immediately called Jasper to tell him I was safe.

"Good, I was starting to worry about you a little bit Kid, you didn't call at all today. You always check in with me."

"I know Jazz, I'm sorry. It was just hard saying goodbye to my friends, knowing that it really was goodbye." I hated lying to him but I knew if any of them got wind of Niklaus Mikaelson being my mate Edward and most likely Carlisle and Esme would be gone.

"I understand kid, I really do, but you know you've got us."

"Always Jazz? No matter what happens, right? You're always my brother?" I needed the reassurance, though I believed Jasper would quickly forgive me for what was going to happen tomorrow, all of them would.

"Always Kid, you know that. Edward is on the phone with the man at reception, told him you shared a cab with a man you talked to in the lobby which he is pissed about, and that you're in your room for the night. Edward said to leave you a wakeup call for 4:30 like normal."

"I don't even need to be at the school until noon. Come get me at 11, okay Jasper? I'll shower and get ready here, all I need you to bring is my cap and gown." I really just wanted to sleep in with Nik but I knew Jasper was good for keeping his promise.

"You got it Y/n, I'll see you then. Get some sleep."

"Night cowboy." I hung up the phone and quickly grabbed my bag, leaving the room and getting the elevator to the top floor, because of course Nik would get the penthouse suite when we're only here for a night. I knocked on the door and Nik was answering it a second later, pulling me into his arms. "Well hello to you too, I realize we haven't seen each other in a whole 5 minutes but try to control yourself." I teased and he mock glared.

"I don't like not being right next to you while you're still unmarked, and I also don't like having to wait until tomorrow to-"

"Good news. I talked to Jasper and I got him to pick me up at 11 tomorrow, I don't even need to see Edward before graduation. It'll piss him off but it's not like he can do anything about it until after graduation anyway. I did that all so that you can mark me right here, right now, so you don't have to feel anymore anxiety about it." He grinned, leaning down to connect our lips. "I just want us to start our forever together. Also, I texted Bella, her and Garrett will be there to see me graduate tomorrow, I'm inviting them back to the house afterwards where you will be waiting, heads up, you might have to let Garrett get a hit or 2 in with Edward."

"I suppose I can allow that, the man deserves it after all." Nik walked me into the kitchen where he handed me a long island iced tea like the ones I drank at the grill, making me smile.

"I'm really glad I don't have to give up eating and drinking when I become a vampire. When I called Jazz, Edward was on the phone with the front desk. I told the guy that we shared a cab from the airport and Edward was pissed. God forbid I be dating him and talk to someone else with a penis." Nik snorted.

"I hate to say this in his favor, but you did sleep with said man." I took a sip of my drink, pointing at him.

"True, but I only slept with you, I have yet to actually use your dick. I mean the only person who has gotten any kind of sexual gain from this relationship so far has been me." He shrugged.

"I don't know, I mean I did jack off with you in mind last night, I had to do something, you fell asleep and left me with a major erection." At this point I couldn't hold in the laughter at our conversation anymore and neither could he.

"Well, I think I should remedy my actions, don't you?" His eyes darkened and I grinned, jumping up and running towards the bedroom, being lifted bridal style half way there and thrown on the bed. "Oh my god this bed is amazing." I marveled, loving the silk sheets before hearing a growl and seeing my already half naked hybrid impatiently waiting. "Sorry, it's not every day I stay in a penthouse suite."

"Well you will from now on or maybe the honeymoon suite instead." I considered that, loving the idea as I pulled my shirt and jeans off, kissing Nik who crawled on top of me quickly, ripping off my bra and panties. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love your pussy." He laid me back, removing his boxers and spreading my legs. "Are you ready?" I nodded.

"Where do you want to mark me?"

"Here, That way I'll be the only one to ever see it, others can smell it and that's fine but it's supposed to be personal, I think right over your heart is perfect." I agreed with him completely.

"Only if I get to mark you in the same place." He smiled, connecting our lips before pushing straight into me. The stretching hurt but it wasn't too bad and passed fairly quickly, allowing me to let him move. The moment he started moving I knew I was done for, I don't know if it's a sex thing or a mate thing considering this is my first time but I know I'm going to become addicted to this. Nik was very slow in his movements and I couldn't decide if he was trying not to hurt me or if this was somehow just as good for him as it was for me. "Nik?"

He opened his eyes and looked at me shocked, as if he only just realized he wasn't alone and I giggled. "I had been told...but I never believed it. Sex with your mate is supposed to be the pleasure of any other time multiplied by 100. Fucking hell Y/n!" He cursed, lifting one of my legs over his shoulder and moving faster, continuing to curse like crazy. I quickly got frustrated with the fact that I couldn't move at all in this position, dropping my leg and pinning him to my chest, rolling over so I was now on top. I bent my knees at his sides and placed my hands on his chest so I could use it as leverage to move. "I love this position." He told me and I giggled as he watched my tits bouncing up and down as I did.

"Oh god, so close Nik, fuck!" I was practically sobbing at this point, begging any and every deity in existence for release and Nik gave it to me as he took hold of my hips he began thrusting up into me as I dropped down. "Holy Fuck!" I screamed, my orgasm hitting me at the exact moment his did and he dug his fangs into my left breast. "I love you Nik, so fucking much!"

The venom burned slightly once I had come down from my high, though I didn't mind, it just let me know it was working. He stayed attached to me for another 2 minutes before pulling back, his mouth covered in blood and some other clear liquid that I'm assuming is his venom. "I love you too kitten, and I can't wait until I can change you so I won't have to hold back anymore." I looked up at him shocked.

"That was you holding back? Cause if it was change me now, I need to know what you not holding back is like." He smiled, pulling me close to kiss him before laying back against the pillows, pulling me to his chest. "I just want to stay like this forever, can we do that? Naked, in bed, just the 2 of us. Room service and silk sheets. This is perfect, right here, right now."

"It will be even more perfect when you're a vampire too, naked, in bed, just the 2 of us, room service, silk sheets and in Paris." I lifted my head from his chest and grinned.

"Paris, really? You mean it?!" He chuckled, nodding.

"Of course love, anywhere you want to go. I'll propose sometime after you change and we will go on an extended honeymoon, We'll travel everywhere."

"And have sex in every country?" I teased making him laugh but nod. "Can we go to Venice? I've always wanted to go to Venice, and the Caribbean."

"Of course we can. Anywhere you want, I told you yesterday, you deserve to be treasured, I will spend the rest of our existence worshipping the ground that you walk on. You will want for nothing in my presence because I want you, need you, I will spend every minute of every day loving you. The past few years of your life have been shitty, but I promise your future is going to be better." I had tears in my eyes and I felt like I couldn't stop crying as I held onto him.

"That was beautiful Nik, no one has ever said anything like that to me before. I don't think I can really say anything close to that meaningful to you, but I can say that the loneliness you've felt for the last 1000 years is over. You will never be alone again Niklaus, I promise, I will be here for you till the end of eternity." I leaned in, pressing my lips to his, this kiss being different than any we had had so far, it held every promise we had made to each other and every ounce of love in our hearts.

I was awoken the next morning to the sunlight shining in my eyes. I looked at the alarm clock and saw it was 8 in the morning making me realize I should probably just stay up. I sat up from Nik's chest and looked back at him, smiling before smirking as I noticed his erection pressed under the sheet that was over us. I ducked down under the sheet and moved slowly as not to wake him, kneeling between his legs and pressing my tongue against him, licking up his shaft before taking him in my hand. I licked over the head, tasting the precum that oozed out before taking him in between my lips slowly, inch by inch until he hit the back of my throat. When he was all the way in my mouth I swallowed around him, feeling his body jolt and knowing he was now awake before making a gagging sound and easing him back out.

"Y/n?!"

"Who else would it be?" I asked before deep throating him yet again. I bobbed my head up and down a few times before Nik threw the sheet off of me, somehow getting harder as he saw me.

"Fuck Y/n!" I continued bobbing my head up and down, swirling my tongue around his head every now and again until I got it in me to relax my throat and push him all the way back, swallowing and moaning to cause vibrations. "Shit! Shit baby, stop...Y/n, that's enough." I pulled my mouth off just as he started cumming, allowing him to come on my face.

"It would have just been easier to swallow it." I mumbled, feeling it dripping down my naked chest.

"Well, I didn't plan on cumming on your face love."

"Where did you plan on cumming?"

"I didn't, you woke me up with your sexy mouth around my cock."

"Oh yeah." I giggled, sitting up. "I just planned on swallowing it. However I need to get into the shower so I suppose this is okay." I hopped up off of the bed and walked into the bathroom, starting the water and stepping into it, letting the sticky substance wash from my body before stepping completely under the water and wetting my hair. I went to pick up the shampoo I had brought with me but found nothing, when I opened my eyes and looked it was where it was supposed to be. Suddenly there were hands on my head and I felt Nik scrubbing my shampoo in making me smile. "Your hands are magical, I swear."

"So is your mouth love." I giggled at that as Nik rinsed my hair out before grabbing the conditioner. I squeezed shampoo onto my hand and quickly lathered his head up since he only had a little bit of hair, before rinsing it while Nik ran his conditioner covered fingers through my locks. "I love washing your hair for you."

"That's good because I love you washing my hair, it works out." We spent an hour in the shower together washing each other, sharing kisses and innocent touches here and there until we needed to get out. By that time it was a little after 9:30 and I began blow drying my hair and styling it half up and half down with some curls in it. I dressed in a short dark blue dress that came to my mid-thigh and blue heels since it was a special day. We ordered breakfast and ate together, just talking until 11.

"I'll leave a few minutes after you." I shook my head.

"Walk me to Jasper's car, I'm going to tell him now, that way he's not shocked later and can actually calm people down." Nik nodded thoughtfully but ultimately decided I was right. Jasper was pulling up just as we walked out and Nik handed me my bag. "I'll see you later, right?"

"Of course, I'll be watching." He gave me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving me to step into Jasper's mustang.

"Alright darlin'. What's going on?" I put my bag in the back and sighed as he began driving.

"I don't want to lie to you Jazz, you're the closest thing I have to a real brother, but if I tell you, I need you to keep your mouth shut until after graduation. Can you do that?" He nodded, knowing just by feeling how I feel that I was serious and desperate. "That was my mate. He's a traditional."

"Thank god!" Jasper exclaimed and I looked at him strangely. "What? I don't want you to be with Edward forever darlin'. I want more for you and that man put a smile on your face with just a simple kiss to your cheek. I want to meet him though, I'm your big brother, threatening the boyfriend is my job, though I must admit, he looks strangely familiar." I decided not to mention how my mate could snap him in half like a twig, or the fact that he knew Maria and just nodded.

"He's coming to the house after graduation. Don't think about it, I don't need Edward knowing." He nodded.

"Of course darlin', that's a given. Were you with him all night?" I nodded, pulling down the front of my dress to show him my mark. "Well, he's sure a quick fucker isn't he?"

"I met him in Mystic Falls 2 days ago. I didn't know he was a vampire when I went home with him." Jasper rolled his eyes at that.

"You and Bella, the twin danger magnets." I giggled at his joke as we got closer to the high school.

"Bella is coming today by the way."

"Well, I look forward to seeing her and not wanting to drain her dry."

"I'm sure you do." We talked mindlessly about things for the rest of the car ride until we got to the school. People were already being seated on the fields' bleachers when we arrived. I grabbed my cap and gown from the trunk and waved as I saw Bella and Garrett sitting in the front row.

"What did you do?" I jumped as I heard the voice next to me and turned to see Edward behind me. He grabbed ahold of my arm and dragged me into the school, away from everyone else. I knew right away I was in trouble as there was no way Klaus was here yet and Jasper had walked off to find Alice. "Bella is here with that beast on her arm! You are the only one who would do something so stupid as to invite them here!"

"I wanted my best friend to be here for my graduation, I-" I was cut off by being shoved back into the wall behind me, cracking my head against the cement and immediately getting light headed. "Edward, please I-"

"Shut Up!" He shouted, smacking me across the face, making my head snap to the side. "Now I have to put up with watching the girl I love walking around with another man and know that she's given herself to that monster." I opened my mouth to reply and tell the truth about having given myself away too but he spoke first. "The only reason you're still alive is your purity. I won't have anything less than a virgin when I mate with you, which is going to be today. You and I are getting married right after graduation, congratulations Y/n, it's your wedding day." I was completely frozen at this point but I knew I needed to do something soon. I ran down the hallway to my locker and grabbed my makeup bag that I kept here, running back to the bathroom and expertly covering my black and blue nose after cleaning off the blood. Thankfully the back of my head isn't bleeding but I'm definitely going to need Nik's blood when this graduation is over. I tossed the makeup bag into the trash, knowing I wasn't coming back to this place for shit and stumbled out to find my seat. I could see Bella looking at me worriedly along with Garrett and I knew if she could tell something was wrong then where ever Nik was he sure as hell could too. I dizzily sat through all the speeches and somehow got the strength to stand and walk across the stage to get my diploma before falling back into my seat. By the time graduation was over I felt like I was going to die but I pushed myself to get up and make it over to Bella before Edward made it to me.

"Hey Bells, how are you?" She hugged me to her immediately, looking slightly on edge around so many people but quickly got over it.

"I'm great. Happy, finally...how are you?" I smiled.

"About to be a lot better. You're coming over for a while right?" Garrett and she looked at one another. "Trust me, you're not going to want to miss this." They looked confused but I pointed at my head and they immediately understood that I didn't want Edward knowing.

"Yeah, we'll head there now." I smiled, hugging Garrett slightly and feeling a burning coming from my mark making me acknowledge the fact that Nik didn't like me hugging Garrett. I waved before making my way to Jasper's car, only to have my arm grabbed.

"Where are you going love?" I cringed as he called me that, he never called me that.

"Don't call me that Edward." I insisted, making several students look at us. "You know I don't like that nickname...babe." I cringed again. "I'm riding home with Jasper-"

"I told Carlisle to meet us at our field to ordain us, Esme is going to be the witness, get into my car." He growled and I felt scared but it immediately disappeared as my mark began to burn again.

"You can tell Carlisle that if we're getting married it will be at home with our family, where my best friends can be there, and thank you for the offer but I will ride with Jasper. I'll see you at home Edward." I said it all loudly enough that plenty of people heard, therefor he couldn't just drag me to his car and he knew it. I knew there were bruises on my arm as I got into the passenger seat of Jaspers car. Jasper got in not a moment later and looked at me concerned. "What?" I asked and he looked at me like I was an idiot.

"Are you alright? Where is Nik, I thought he would-"

"Home Jasper. Home." He nodded, starting the car and driving off. By the time we got there everyone else was already there and waiting in the living room. I wiped the makeup off in the mirror and heard Jasper growling immediately. "Nik?" I questioned as we got out and I felt calm, comforted, knowing it was okay and I was safe as I walked inside with Jasper.

"There she is, I poured you a drink to celebrate love, careful though, you know how you get with alcohol." I knew he had drugged it, he's done it 100 other times, so this time I decided not to drink it.

"Yes Edward, I do know how I get. Especially 2 days ago over drinks with one of Caroline's friends. He bought me a few drinks and we slept together." I admitted, putting the glass on the table, seeing everyone's shocked faces. "It was amazing, really, even better the next day completely sober." There was an audible silence in the room, the entire family now listening intently as well as Bella and Garrett who were both grinning at me. "I'm sure it'll be just as great later tonight when I'm finally rid of you." He wanted to hurt me, I know he did but he wouldn't dare strike me with Jasper and Emmett around.

"Y/n, I'm hurt that you would do that to me but I'm sure we can talk this out and move passed it-"

"I don't want to move passed it, I don't want to be with you, hell will freeze over before I will marry you, in fact just being in the same room as you makes me physically ill and I think it's time I tell everyone in this room the truth. I don't love Edward, never have, never will. He's been lying to all of you about me just like he lied about Bella."

Everyone in the room snarled besides Carlisle and Esme. "You remember what I told you I would do to you if you ever did this again kid?" Garrett snarled at him.

"Oh, It won't only be Edward getting hurt today, Garrett. Carlisle, Esme, would you like to tell everyone what's been going on in your home?" They looked at me puzzled but I think they both knew there was no escaping this. "Jasper, Emmett, I lied to you both. Every time I told you I was fine, every time I was hurt and I told you I was just clumsy. Edward has been beating me almost daily since the day Bella left." Emmett went to lunge at him but was caught by Rose who seemed to want to hear the rest. Edward tried to go for the door but Jasper and Alice blocked their exit, Rose and Emmett moving to the other so no one could leave while Bella and Garrett moved to my sides so no one could harm me while I continued. "Edward told Carlisle I was 'difficult' so he allowed him to do whatever he had to, to turn me into the perfect obedient mate. Edward was planning to take me away after graduation and force me to marry him, force me to mate with him so there would be no way I could ever leave him, he just didn't know he was a day too late. Emmett, Jazz, every night I begged you to stay with me, not to leave to hunt, to leave me alone in a house with Edward, it wasn't because you kept the nightmares away, it was because I was terrified he would get it into his head one day to force me to mate with him when no one was there to stop him...I was terrified to go to sleep at night, you were the only people in the world who made me feel safe." My mark was practically on fire at this point and I knew Nik was restraining himself from coming in here, wanting me to get it all out while they were still listening. "I want to thank you guys for that, you got me to this point and now I don't have to be scared anymore."

"This doesn't change anything, you still need to be turned and I'll still claim you as my mate when you are. What did this little temper tantrum get you?" Edward laughed.

"Your attention, you all to listen to me for once, just once, before I let my mate kill you." Everyone in the room except Jasper was now confused and looking at me until the front door slammed open. I saw Jasper flinch and I knew he could feel how intense Nik's anger truly was as he walked up the stairs and turned the corner, coming into everyone's view. Carlisle gasped, though he was the only one who seemed to know who Nik really was, Edward gasping as he read Carlisle's mind.

"Do you feel better love? Getting it off your chest must have helped quite a bit." I nodded slowly, careful not to jostle my aching head. Nik took my face into his hands, seeing the bruise, feeling this bump on the back on my head and sighing, letting his fangs grow out and biting into his hand. Rose, Esme, Alice, Bella and Emmett gasped, not knowing there was another kind of vampire in the world though Garrett now looked a lot more on alert, holding Bella behind him, not like he was ready to fight but like he was ready to flee. I took his injured hand into my mouth and drank slowly, letting my injuries heal before everyone's eyes. "For those of you who don't know my name is Niklaus Mikaelson. Most people call me Klaus now a days. I am of the original family, one of the first vampires to walk the earth 1000 years ago." No one spoke, no one moved, everyone was trying to figure out who was in trouble and who wasn't. "The only people I'm here to harm are Edward, Carlisle and Esme, everyone else can calm down." They visually did. "Everyone else was a friend to my mate when she needed it and I thank you all for that, especially Jasper and Emmett. If you ever need anything, I owe you." They nodded. "You however, you're going to die today." Edward had been dragged over to sit beside Carlisle and Esme on the couch. "You I have no real issue with except your gross tolerance of the awful things done to someone you considered your child." He spoke to Esme. "However you did not hurt her yourself, therefore I have no reason to make you suffer." As he finished his sentence her head was rolling across the floor and Carlisle began screaming. "You allowed your son...in fact, encouraged your son to hurt my mate...why? That's all I want to know, why did you sit by and watch her suffer?"

"Edward wanted her, I told him he could have whoever and whatever he wanted when I changed him, that's why he stayed with me at first, then Esme wanted a son, I gave him whatever he wanted so he wouldn't leave and break her heart. What would you do for your mates happiness?" He snarled but Nik laughed.

"Anything, but you see, the difference between us is my mate wouldn't let someone else hurt so that she could have what she wanted. She's a good person, I'm not, but she is. And I will never let anyone hurt her, that is my promise to her." Nik took a little longer with Carlisle, tearing all of his limbs off before finally removing his head. "Now you see, the thing is I don't want to know your reasons, they're probably crazy and deranged but there's one thing I do want, and that's to tell you that you lose." Edward growled loudly and I couldn't keep the smile from my face. "She wins, I win, and do you know what I won?" Nik paused, knowing exactly what was going to piss Edward off the most. "I won that perfect innocence you tried to preserve." Edwards eyes were practically on fire as Nik told him that. "She gave it to me happily, freely." Jasper grabbed Edward as he tried to jump at Nik, though my mate didn't even flinch.

"I'm confused, what did Edward want?" Emmett asked and I rolled my eyes.

"Edward told me about how he was engaged before he got sick as a human, the women cheated on him and gave herself to his friend before their wedding day, the day before their wedding was the day he went into the hospital." I explained. "He was obsessed with having a girl who was completely his, innocent and pure, and it is truly an obsession. I told Nik, I wasn't even allowed to touch myself. The fact that I'm Nik's makes it even harder for Edward I suppose, and makes Nik's ego even larger."

"If that's possible." Bella spoke to me and I laughed, high fiving her.

"I'm right here love." I shrugged. "Garrett, would you like to take some shots before I end him?" Garrett jumped up, fully prepared to give Edward the beating of his life for hurting his mate. "Feeling better love?" I nodded, leaning into Nik contently about to press my lips to his when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. "What is it?"

"Pity it has to go to waste." The archway that had been for the wedding I was supposed to be a part of today was decorated with white flowers and ribbon. "Esme did a nice job, it's pretty."

"Well...I suppose we don't have to let it go to waste..." I looked up at Nik who was smirking down at me, pulling a ring off of his hand and looking to me. "You can pick one you like later...what do you say?" I was stunned at his forwardness but figured I shouldn't be.

"You want to get married, right now?" Nik nodded and I grinned. "Jasper, you got ordained for Garrett and Bella's wedding right?" Jasper looked up from where Garrett was beating Edward with his own foot and nodded.

"Yes, it's good for 10 years, why?" I looked up at Nik, content with how my life had changed in only 2 days.

"What do you say love?"

"I do."

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

It May Have Tasted Like Summer UshixTen (shounen ai) tsugu - room106

An UshiTen doujin this time.

Keep reading

BNHA masterlist

Aizawa Shouta:

Oneshots:

Background Music

Midoriya Izuku: 

Oneshots:

Moral Support

Todoroki Shouto:

Oneshots:

Worried

Shirakumo Oboro:

Headcanons:

Helping his S/O who has a strong quirk

Shinsou Hitoshi:

The Mentor’s Child (a multichapter fic): Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Oneshots:

Your Feelings Matter

Amajiki Tamaki:

Headcanons:

Having an underclassman S/O

Dabi:

Oneshots:

The Smell of Jealousy (Omega!Dabi x Alpha!reader)

I'm The One

prince!hongjoong x reader

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

word count: ~24k

synopsis: In the Kingdom of Wonderland, Prince Hongjoong is holding a Selection: 30 eligible candidates from the kingdom competing against each other, one of which would be his wife and the future princess. You, however, aren't one of the candidates, you're only translator to your best friend Arin, which means you get to talk to the prince directly. In an effort to remain in the shadows and pass unseen, Hongjoong only seems to notice you, and he can't help but think you're the one.

You never imagined that you'd one day get to step inside the Palace itself, let alone live in there and get to interact with the Prince, the King and the Queen.

As your friend Arin shook you back and forth with disbelief and excitement in her eyes, it took you a moment to comprehend the situation, and soon you were responding with equal enthusiasm, jumping up and down in circles as Arin yelled loudly about how if this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.

You laughed, finally hugging her, so happy for your friend. "It's not a dream. Want me to slap you and confirm it?"

"Hell yes!" Arin grinned, her mother shushing her, telling her to act 'ladylike' because she'd be needing that now that she was one of the candidates for the future Princess and Queen of Wonderland.

The Kingdom of Wonderland was in dire need of a distraction- with the unison of two kingdoms into one- Wonderland and Utopia- just a decade ago, the initial happiness and celebrations had long since died down, the people beginning to question the wisdom of the decision, the previous residents of Utopia feeling less favoured since the kingdom was still called Wonderland, rebels growing because there was still discrimination between the Utopians and Wonderers.

Though the King and Queen had long struggled for equality among the residents of the two kingdoms, there had of course been discrimination from both the sides- bound to happen at one point, but the people were now frustrated and rebelling against the royals, because who better to blame?

So the King and Queen had decided to distract the people- to give them something to look forward to, a possible strengthening of the residents of the previously divided kingdoms- the distraction being holding a Selection- an opportunity for random girls to be selected if they met the requirements, which were basic enough (mostly age and specialties)- through which they would stay at the palace and compete for the heart of Prince Hongjoong.

And you were happy for Arin- she was selected to be one of those candidates for Prince Hongjoong along with 29 other girls, which meant that she had a good chance at becoming the future Princess of Wonderland. The only reason you were going to be tagging along was because Arin was bad at Korean- having been raised in an English household, so you were going to be her translator as she learned Korean. This was a drawback, and when Arin finally let you go to hug her parents, you wondered why she was selected- the King and Queen or the Prince, or whoever it was that sorted through the thousands of the girls to select 30 must have seen something special in Arin despite this very large language barrier.

Which meant Arin was special, and you, as her translator and teacher, were going to make sure she would have no problem and would learn Korean soon, for her sake and the Prince's.

Arin's parents told you to stay for dinner to celebrate, and you could barely hold in your smile through the hour, the phone ringing nonstop as Arin's relatives and friends congratulated the lucky girl and her parents, the neighbours stopping by to join the celebration as well, and you kindly excused yourself, saying you needed to prepare everything since you'd be leaving for the capital soon.

"I'm glad you'll be with me- I can trust you with anything," Arin told you as she hugged you.

"Thank you, Arin. I'm just glad for you, truly," you smiled earnestly at her.

Arin and you had met a few months ago when they had moved from Mist Island to the countryside. You were her neighbour, and when Arin realized you spoke fluent English, she immediately announced you her friend, and you had no objection to it- Arin was as sweet as one could be. She looked and felt like literal sunshine, her light blonde hair just adding to her bright personality. You smiled to yourself- she would truly make a great Princess, and you hoped it would happen.

Arin called you as soon as you stepped inside your house, informing you that the people from the Palace would come in two days time to inform Arin about all the rules and regulations that followed this process, as well as process your own application as Arin's personal translator who would be accompanying her basically everywhere she went along with the Prince- unless she wouldn't need you anymore or the Prince dismissed you.

You supposed that would happen sometime too, but you couldn't help but feel awkward about all of this- you would have to tread very, very carefully. You were going to appear nothing more than a shadow, only stepping in when you were needed, and pretending to be the walls or the trees whenever you were following Arin. No one could notice you.

As you picked the books out of the shelf, a picture slipped in from one of your books, and you bent down to pick it up, smiling when you saw that it was the only photo of the Prince that you had, in which he must have been around 10, where your parents had made you stand with the Prince as they clicked the photo, both of you with scowls on your faces.

Prince Hongjoong... He was an interesting character. He had great leadership skills, was great with speeches, didn't seem stiff. He was a natural, and people admired him for that. Girls swooned over his charisma and boys wished they were him. The fact that you would be seeing the Prince in a week... it meant so much to you, since the fact that your parents had served in the castle and had been on good terms with the Queen and the Prince, and had always wanted you to meet the Prince- properly. Not when you two were sticking out tongues at each other from afar.

You wished your parents were alive to witness this- you, finally meeting the Prince, though you laughed at the thought that if your mother was alive, she would have made you enter the Selection itself, just like any other mother of a daughter in this kingdom. You looked at the side, at the frame that contained the family picture, and picked it, slipping it inside the bag, then hesitating before slipping the photo of Hongjoong inside too.

One week. Your life would change.

You fell asleep wondering what the Palace was like and what the Prince was like.

---------------------

"Do I look horrible?" Arin asked you for the 15th time.

"If you ask me again, I'm going to say yes, and then you can start crying," you were pinching the bridge of your nose now, "For the hundredth time, Arin, you look beautiful. Happy?"

Arin grinned, making you grin back- you couldn't help it. She really did look beautiful in her cream coloured gown, diamantes at the neckline, her blue eyes brighter than ever. She had never looked better- the ladies at the parlour had polished and enhanced her natural beauty, not overdoing the makeup and keeping everything simple and elegant, just like Arin wanted.

"Alright, get your sleep- you look like you're gonna faint."

"I will," you pouted, closing your eyes shut.

It had been one hell of a week- two days from when Arin was selected, an official had visited, explaining the guidelines- you, as the translator, had explained everything- the guidelines being a set of rules she had to follow.

"You are now considered the property of Wonderland. You must take care of your body. You have to fill the several forms explaining the guidelines- any failure to comply on your part will result in your immediate removal from the Selection"

It started with you explaining the long list of rules, the official translator present making sure you were doing a good job, rules that informed her that the Selection could stretch as much as years but considering that it was Prince Hongjoong, it would last a few months only, that Arin could not leave the palace of her own accord once she arrives, that she would have to be dismissed by the Prince herself, not even the king or queen could force her out, though they could tell the prince that they did not approve of you, that the prince himself would arrange for her meetings and not her, that she could not stress or steal from other candidates, that romantic relationship with anyone else from now until the end of the Selection would be considered treason and would be punishable by death.

Though you were feeling weirded out by the set of strict rules, it looked like it made absolute sense to Arin seeing how her eyes were set and gleaming as she fiercely nodded along. You contained the urge to squeeze her cheeks at that. You just hoped she understood that it wouldn't be too easy.

You had three hours session with Arin each day- but they weren't very fruitful, especially when Arin was as excited as you'd ever seen someone ever, and you both couldn't help but forget all about teaching and learning Korean and instead memorizing the names of all the other participants and guessing who'd be nice, who'd had a chance, who'd get eliminated first, and having a good giggle over it. You supposed Arin needed these giggling sessions more, considering how stressed she must be because the weight of this was huge as well.

Today, the two of you had been accompanied to the airport after a teary goodbye to Arin's parents and annoying little brother who was just glad he had 'one more room to himself'. After reaching the capital where Arin greeted the crowd and even stopped to sign some autographs and take photos, you both were taken to the parlour first where even you were scrubbed and polished- literally. You told them it made no sense that you had to go through this torture as well, but the ladies just hushed you, saying that you had to look 'refined' since you would be making appearances literally everywhere too, and you realized it did make sense.

You were dressed in a comfortable deep blue suit, thanking heavens because they told you no dresses for you (unless the occasion called for it) to differentiate between the candidates and you, and you couldn't be happier. You wanted to feel sorry for Arin who would be wearing dresses and heels from now, but she looked so beautiful and happy that you realized she didn't need your pity at all- she was living her best life.

"You're smiling," Arin whispered in your ear and you opened one eye to glare at her.

"I'm smiling because I'm not the one in a dress and high heels right now," you told her.

The other two girls that were in your limo on your way to the palace were watching you both interact in English silently- not many in this kingdom spoke the language. But you had, in the beginning when you all sat inside the car, introduced Arin to them, and they had asked you if it would be tough for Arin to communicate with the Prince and if you though that could cause the elimination sooner, and you assured them that Arin was a quick learner and would be able to communicate without your help soon, which wiped the growing smirks on their faces.

You supposed it was going to be competitive- very, in fact. Some fought for the crown, and some fought for the Prince. Arin would be one of the few who genuinely liked the Prince. You hoped the Prince wasn't foolish enough to not notice that.

When you arrived inside the palace, you couldn't help but wow, the surprise echoed from the other girls in the car. The palace was a beautiful structure of coloured glass windows and deep brown rock, a vintage vibe to it even if it was built to be modern. The gardens with the greenest grass you'd ever seen was adorned with flowers of various colours and fountains every few feet.

As you got off the car, you were accompanied inside to the waiting room, the other girls already there, and Arin nervously fidgeted with her hands, biting her lips.

"You'll ruin your lipstick," you patted her shoulders, "You're probably not meeting the Prince right away, so relax."

"Doesn't make me less nervous," Arin laughed a bit, and you smiled hoping it would assure her.

The doors opened and an aged woman entered, glancing at each one of the candidates, and you stepped a bit behind Arin, the woman nodding at you and acknowledging you.

"My name is Sophie, and I will be your guide, watching over your progress and your lessons as you spend time in the palace. Please accompany me to the dining hall- I'm sure you all are famished. We can have a chat over tea, after dinner."

The girls erupted in satisfied sighs, you quickly summing up what Sophie had just said to Arin, and she smiled, the two of you moving along with the rest of the selected to the hall.

The dining hall was one generous hall, with food of every kind and desserts of every shape, making your stomach swoop. You had to remind yourself that you were only here because of Arin, smiling to yourself because you had to thank Arin. After all, when could you have had this opportunity to have so much food to select from!

"I know we're thinking the same thing," Arin laughed as she told you to sit beside her, and you did, figuring it would be easier to keep up with the conversation and translating it for Arin.

The girl next to Arin- Byeol, you recalled from the list of selected you had memorized- said hello, and Arin said hello back, asking how she was. The girl peeked forward to say hello to you too.

"Where are you from?" She asked Arin.

"From Mist Island. My mother... English. My Korean not good right now."

You patted Arin's back in encouragement- she had done well.

"Isn't it hard to be here? How will you even interact with the Prince?"

"It won't be too hard," you butted in with a polite smile, "Arin is able to understand better than she can speak, and I'm sure she'll catch up in no time. She's a quick learner."

"I hope so," Byeol let out a nervous laugh, "I mean, the competition's tough as it is. Wouldn't want her out because of language barrier."

"There are worst reasons to be kicked out," you smiled, hoping she'd get your point. You quickly summed what happened to Arin, who nodded in agreement, and Byeol only shook her head and smiled, as if she had the upper hand here.

Though Arin, being the epitome of kindness, didn't mind anyone's attitude one bit, you wanted to smear the chocolate pastry Byeol was eating all over her face. How dare she think she had the upper hand just because she was a native speaker!

You decided to do the observing as well as you ate, taking in the girls. It was so easy to figure them out, except the few that looked mysterious. You knew that as soon as they would get the first look at the prince, you'd realize if they were here for the prince or the crown.

After the dinner where you definitely did not hold back, Sophie got up from the main seat, clearing her throat and going in a speech of why the girls who were selected all possessed a worthy quality that had the king and queen vouching for them, and that they were to prove themselves in more ways now that they were here, and learn the ways of a lady who one day might bear the crown.

After the very long speech which you translated as she spoke, the girls clicked their glasses and had a drink, after which they left for the night. One guard stationed to accompany each girl stood and you bowed to your guard in greeting. He escorted you two to Arin's room, where three maids waited to attend to Arin, and the guard told you that your room was right next to Arin's, so she could call you whenever she needed. You thanked him, going into Arin's room first.

You helped her settle in with the maids- Sana, Momo and Mina, all very cute young girls, gushing about how they were so happy that they were assigned to Arin since she seemed like she was the sweetest of them all, and you assured them that Arin definitely was. They told you that language wouldn't be much barrier here since Mina knew basic English thanks to her lineage, and you sighed in relief, excusing yourself when Arin threatened to kick you out because 'I have this under control, go rest! We have a big day tomorrow!'

You took a deep breath as you entered your room- as big as Arin's but pretty much empty. Your bag was already placed at the edge of the bed and as you walked to it, you realized you didn't even have the energy to change anymore. You washed your face after taking off your coat, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Your parents had spent most of their life in the palace, you raised by your grandmother who lived in the town near. You'd visited the palace as a kid quite a few times, playing with the other children, but you'd never seen the Prince close enough. You, as a kid, wondered just why he couldn't simply play with kids his age.

As you sat on the bed, you suddenly missed your parents immensely. If they were alive, you would have been in their room in the palace right now. Feeling an ache in your chest that was only growing, you got up, drinking a glass of water, but when that ache didn't settle, you decided to get some air.

There was a guard stationed between the distance of your and Arin's room, closer to Arin's, and you informed him that you were going to the gardens to get some air. Since you weren't one of the selected, you had the freedom to roam around the castle (as much as a visitor could) and go outside whenever you wanted, as long as the guards allowed it.

You almost rushed outside, sighing in relief when you breathed in the fresh air- the air truly was different here. You walked around, recognizing the familiar fountains from your childhood, recalling that you used to mark the fountains as a kid as a 'proof' that you had been here.

Smiling to yourself, you bent down and looked under the basin, spotting the scratches- an eight pointed star. You went to the next fountain, and the next, your smile growing bigger as you found all those stars.

"Looking for something?"

You were glad your reflex action wasn't a scream like Arin's, just a jerk, and you immediately straightened to look at the source of the sound-

You struggled to keep your scream in.

It was none other than the Prince standing in front of you.

"Your Highness," you immediately bowed, cursing internally at your state- one too many buttons undone casually, sleeves rolled up, your feet in pink slippers.

"And you are? I'm sorry, I can't recall all the names of the girls right now-"

"Oh no, I'm not one of the Selected," you said and the prince raised his brow, "I'm one of the girls' translator- if you recall."

"Oh," Prince Hongjoong nodded, smiling, "I hope you find the palace comfortable."

"Of course," you smiled, standing awkwardly, not knowing what to do, taking a moment to scan him- his silver hair shining with a slight pink tint, his posture good and straight and you mirrored it automatically, and it looked like he was still in his uniform.

"So, what were you looking for?" Prince Hongjoong smiled.

"Nothing- it's... embarrassing," you laughed a bit.

"I once lost my father's ring in the garden and spent the whole night looking for it myself, telling the guards to warn me if he came. Nothing could be worse than that."

You couldn't help but laugh at that- the Prince wasn't as uptight as he had seemed to you- he was joking around so freely. You supposed he had a similar nature as Arin's.

"I used to visit the palace when I was young, my parents served here," you admitted, "The kids and I played around here, so I'd leave some marks on the fountains every time I visited."

"Oh," Prince Hongjoong's eyes flashed for a brief moment, "And where are your parents now? I'm sure I've met them."

"You have," you nodded, smiling sadly as you looked at the moon- a half-moon, "They passed away in the rebel attack 2 years ago."

The Prince's face fell, and he took a deep breath, "We lost many loyal subjects that night. I'm sure they're in a better place now, and are watching over you and are proud."

"Thank you for your kind words," you smiled.

"So what's the mark?"

"The mark? Oh-" you realized, bending down again and pointing, "Eight-pointed star."

"Eight-pointed star?" Prince Hongjoong bent down as well, examining the scratch, "And you marked most of the fountains?"

"Uh, I may just be realizing that I damaged the king's property..."

Prince Hongjoong threw his head back and laughed, "Kids do most of that, though we'd have to look into it if we catch you scratching another star on one of the fountains," he winked at you.

Once again, silence fell as the two of you stood side by side, watching the water in the fountain. It was you who decided to break the silence.

"If you don't mind me asking... how do you feel about meeting 30 potential candidates tomorrow?"

"I'm very stressed, actually, which is why I came here to take a breather," Hongjoong admitted.

"Oh, I should leave then-"

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad to talk to someone who is not my mother or father right now," he laughed awkwardly, "Actually, it's pretty intimidating. The girls will be expecting something from me during their course of stay, but I'm not sure I can give them anything."

"You realize you are not required to, right?"

"I know," he nodded, "I would just feel bad if they leave broken hearted. I'd feel like an ass."

You let out a short laugh, the Prince joining. "Well, the girls... they're new to this too. They're all pretty excited. You don't have to figure them all out right away. Take your time, roll along... you'll find yourself used to it soon, I hope."

"Thank you," Prince Hongjoong smiled at you, "And what about the girl you'll be translating for?"

"I'm probably biased when I say this but Arin is the sweetest of them all," you smiled, "I've known her for long now. She's the kindest soul, wouldn't hurt an ant if she could manage it, but she's also very strong. She knows where she stands. I'll do my best with the language barrier, but... I feel like you'll click with her well."

"You look like you admire her," he said, and you nodded, "I guess if I click with her, language wouldn't feel like a barrier anymore."

"Exactly what I mean," you grinned at him, forgetting for a moment that he was the Prince and not your friend, until you found him scanning your face.

"I should go," you said, "I just needed some air, and the guards were kind enough to allow it."

"You can come here whenever you like, I'll let the guards know," the Prince said, and your heart swelled in gratitude.

"Good luck for tomorrow," you smiled, "Whatever your decision, I hope you'll end up being happy."

"Thank you, truly," the Prince nodded in acknowledgement when you bowed before beginning to leave.

"I never got your name!"

You turned, laughing a bit at how he'd shouted this after you were a good few feet gone. You told him your name, waving at him before leaving with a smile plastered on your face.

-------------------

You told Arin all about how you accidentally met Prince Hongjoong before any of the girls, and Arin was all squeals and laughter, the maids struggling to make her stay in place as they did her hair.

"How is he like? Is he as handsome as he looks in the pictures? Does the new hair suit him?"

You rolled your eyes- Arin was literally the Prince's fangirl. It truly was a dream come true for her to even be in the proximity of the Prince, let alone be a candidate for his future wife. "I guess the hair suits him- it sort of looks pink with the light."

"Every hair colour suits him," Mina sighed happily, "But I'd personally love it if he goes back to his natural hair colour."

You nodded- the Prince was blessed in that department.

"So? Is he more handsome or more pretty?"

"I don't know," you shifted, looking in the mirror as you fixed your tie, "He seems to be both? I don't know how he manages that. But Arin, please remember what I told you before we came here, okay?"

Arin saluted, smiling. You'd had a nice talk with Arin the night before you'd arrive here, where you'd make sure that Arin understood that being a fan of the Prince was a separate matter, that she had to be completely unbiased now that she was here. Her responsibility would be that of a crown and a princess, and she had to keep in mind that.

"But what if I don't... like him like that?" Arin had asked you.

"I think not everyone is gonna like him like that in the first place," you had assured her, "And I'm sure the Prince would know that. I think you should tell the Prince if you think you won't be happy with him."

"All done!" Mina announced, and Arin got up from her chair, twirling in the deep blue gown that made her eyes look the brightest blue, her curls pinned with pearls and falling like a waterfall down her back.

The guard knocked on the door, announcing that it was time to go, and Arin squeezed your hand once before the two of you went outside, waving goodbye and thanking the maids, who wished Arin best luck. You were led to the Women's Room, where one by one the girls entered, all dressed in beautiful gowns that they couldn't stop touching nervously, and as you stood back and watched them, you realized that though they knew they were each other's competition, they also felt a kind of sisterhood, especially when they tucked someone's stray hair behind or wiped smudged makeup off each other-

"Ugh, why am I the only one wearing pink here?" One of the girls- Nara, who had to be the visually most attractive one present here, huffed as she looked at the other girls' dresses.

Of course there were girls like her too here. You smiled inside- she would get used to it soon, you hoped.

The room immediately quietened when Prince Hongjoong entered, all regal with his slicked back hair and navy blue suit, the girls all curtsying while he smiled, Sophie standing right beside him.

"Good morning, ladies."

The air immediately felt different, the girls now straightening and arranging themselves. The Prince smiled, "I'd like to introduce myself to you all, so if you don't mind, one at a time I will be calling you. I won't take much of your time- do forgive me if I'm a little slow with names."

As he said that, he surveyed the room once, his eyes landing on you and his smile getting wider- you weren't expecting that so you just smiled back, hoping no one else had noticed.

The girls giggled and grinned, waiting by the couch on Sophie's instructions, one by one moving to the Prince who stood by the window with a drink, what seemed like casual conversation flowing between them. It only lasted for a few minutes each with the girls returning with nervous smiles.

"I wonder what he's asking," Arin fidgeted.

"Maybe he's just wondering what's your favourite food," you scoffed, making her laugh a bit.

Before you knew it, it was Arin's turn, and she squeezed your hand before the two of you went to where he stood, Arin saying hello with a smile, you doing the same and standing beside Arin.

"Arin? You look lovely today."

You knew Arin understood that, and she bowed a bit, replying with a thanks. Prince Hongjoong smiled, "I heard you're English. I know a bit of it."

You translated that to Arin, and she replied in Korean, "Really?"

The Prince nodded, "Where are you from?"

"Mist Island, my parents had an English lineage, we moved to this kingdom before I was born."

The Prince looked at you and you translated that for him as he nodded, "Mist Island is beautiful. I've only been there once when I was little, but I hope to visit again. Maybe you could show me around."

Arin noticed the flirtatious smile on his lips as you translated that, and she beamed, "It would be an honour to show you around my home town."

"But you live in the countryside now, right?"

As you translated that for Arin and she nodded, you realized the Prince had done his own research as well- probably on every girl.

"Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you, Arin. I hope we can get along well despite this obstacle."

Arin got that, bowing to the Prince and you did the same, finding his eyes beaming as he looked at you. "You're doing a good job. I hope you find the palace comfortable."

"I do," you assured him with a thanks.

"I didn't get to say this last night, but," Hongjoong sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, "If you wish to visit your parents' room or anything like that, you can talk to Sophie. I've already talked to her."

You were surprised- was the Prince this generous or was this an exception? You shook the thoughts off, thanking him for his kindness and he told you both to join the girls in the dining hall after he announces what's next.

As you both went back, you told Arin what he had just said, who only sighed happily, saying something about how generous he was and how he was a born Prince. You shook your head, smiling as you reached the others, Arin immediately surrounded by the girls who asked what they talked about, and Arin told them in broken Korean, the girls laughing and correcting her mistakes.

Prince Hongjoong walked to the center of the room, clearing his throat, "If I have asked you to move to the dining hall, please follow Sophie out, the rest of you can stay here."

The girls looked at each other in nervousness, most of them following Sophie out, you and Arin along with them, and as you entered the hall, the King and Queen greeted the girls, everyone including you curtsying before taking their seats and digging into the food.

"I wonder why he asked some of them to stay," the girl beside you, Nayoung, said, "Did they do something good? Maybe he wants extra time with them."

"No idea," you muttered, "He wouldn't eliminate someone so soon, would he?"

Nayoung looked at you, "I doubt he would."

But he did. Just like that, 22 girls remained out of 30. And you wondered if Arin really had caught his attention or if he was just giving her a second chance because of the language barrier.

The next morning at breakfast table, everyone thought so as well. Why Arin was kept, why girls like Nora or Nayeon were eliminated, who clearly looked like they had potential. The girls ate nervously, all except Arin, and you had to keep yourself from laughing as Arin moaned after each bite of chicken. Prince Hongjoong sat at the end of the table, watching Arin with amusement in his eyes.

"Lady Arin? Enjoying the food?"

Arin almost dropped her fork, looking at you and you translated.

"Food delicious, but cake-" Arin waved at the dozens of pastries and sweets, "I make better."

The table erupted into laughter and Prince Hongjoong straightened. "Really? Is that a challenge?"

You laughed as you translated, and Arin nodded enthusiastically, the Prince looking at you as if to ask you if Arin was joking or not.

"Arin is an exceptional baker," you were beaming proudly as you announced, "And she accepts the challenge."

"Well," Prince Hongjoong, "I guess I'll have to arrange for a date in the kitchens- mother would be the most happy to learn I'll be stepping in there!"

Everyone looked at Arin in awe for securing her first date with the Prince, and as you conveyed that, Arin smiled and bowed her head a bit in acknowledgement. You felt proud at that moment- a very sisterly pride as you grinned at Arin. She had done it!

The Prince told you both after the breakfast that he would arrange for a suitable time and let you know, and by the time he left, you and Arin were practically jumping up and down, in a very unladylike manner- for Arin. Sophie let you both have your moment before she cleared her throat and told all the girls to write letters home and let them know how you were holding up. The girls sighed collectively in relief, rushing back to their rooms and while Arin went back, you decided to take that moment and ask Sophie about your parents.

"Ah, so it's you," Sophie's face changed as she smiled, "I remember the lot of you. It was always troublesome when the kids gather. Hongjoong would always be at one of these windows watching you all play enviously."

Now that was news. You always thought as a kid that the Prince was a stuck up snob who wouldn't bother to play with kids like you- but apparently all this time he wanted to join?

"You remember me?"

"Not much, but just the few kids playing in the gardens- it has been a memory I look back to sometimes. I was the one who'd always tell you all to keep your voices down, if you remember."

You gasped- it was her! Sophie laughed as you put a hand over your mouth in disbelief, bowing once in recognition as Sophie waved you off. "I remember you!"

"Of course you do," Sophie smiled, "I'll let one of the guards accompany you to your parent's room-"

"Not today," you hesitated, and Sophie looked confused, "I... I need some time. Can I visit once I'm ready?"

Sophie seemed like she understood, "Of course, dear. If you need anything, do let me know. Your mother was the most kind to me. The Queen misses her dearly."

"The Queen does?" You frowned.

"Don't you know? She was one of the queen's personal maids."

"Oh... They kept their work very private," you smiled. Of course she was. There was a reason she sometimes looked guilty when she slipped something about work- or the Queen- in front of you.

"Good to hear that," Sophie said.

"I'll take my leave now," you thanked her and left the room, feeling overwhelmed by the information and the weight of all this.

----------------

The next morning, all the girls including you were having breakfast with the royal family, casual conversation flowing between everyone, the girls around Arin asking her if she had her date yet, Arin shaking her head no repeatedly with a smile.

You were just on your third chocolate cookie when you were interrupted by the sudden opening of the doors, the guards shouting 'rebels!' and the room erupted in chaos.

"To the back of the room, ladies, now!" Prince Hongjoong got up, all except two guards leaving while the two shut and bolted the door from inside, the King putting a protective arm on his wife leading her to a corner, a few girls following them on instinct, and you immediately grabbed Arin's hand, telling her that rebels were inside the palace.

Arin was positively scared and you shushed her, telling her that now was the time to maintain her calm if she wanted to get Prince Hongjoong's attention, and she straightened her back a bit as she followed the girls to the back of the hall. Some of them were quietly sobbing, while some were shaking. It looked like not many had experienced such a situation.

You saw Prince Hongjoong pull down the shutters of the windows one by one and instead of following the girls, you decided to do the same, going to the other end of the room and drawing the shutters down, until there were two windows between you and the Prince, and at that moment you caught a flying object in your direction-

"Prince Hongjoong, duck, now!"

You only had time to say that as you drew your arms in front of you and crouched down, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw the Prince follow your lead, the sound of a crash following soon after, the shards of broken glass spraying around you.

You heard Arin's scream, glad when you saw one of the girls hold her back protectively, and you got up, waving to her to indicate you were alright. The Prince got up, shutting the remaining two shutters- the window right next to you was broken.

"Are you hurt?" Prince Hongjoong grabbed you by the shoulders as he scanned you.

"Are you hurt?" You scanned him, and he shook his head, looking at the broken shards of glass.

"You're hurt," he noticed a shard of glass buried in your palm, blood trickling down your hand. He took out his handkerchief, and before he could pull the shard out, you stopped him, taking it out yourself and wincing slightly- it was a few inches big. You let the prince tie the handkerchief.

"You should have been careful, I thought I told all of you to get back to the room."

"The girls did," you replied, "I had to do something."

"I clearly addressed 'ladies'," Prince Hongjoong smiled at you, "You fall there too."

"Sorry," you held back a grin but the Prince noticed.

"Get there, please. I need to make sure the situation is okay before I get to the girls," he looked back once at the huddled girls, beckoning you to join them before going to the guards and speaking to them.

You joined Arin who hugged you, "I thought you were hurt badly!"

"Nothing much," you shook her off, "You know my instincts are good- I saw it coming, literally."

Arin rolled her eyes and you smiled- good. She was relaxed now. "You holding up okay?"

"Yeah, I just never expected something like this, I guess," Arin bit her lips, looking at the girl next to her, "Should we comfort them?"

"You should," you smiled, "I'll... see. I should too, I guess."

Arin looked at you knowingly and you gave in- she knew exactly what was going through your head, that some of the girls were sobbing more than they needed so maybe the Prince could come and console them.

And he did, patting every girl's back, telling them it was okay, that they were safe. Some girls even dared put their heads on his chest as they sobbed, and you noticed that the Prince was clearly nervous as he comforted the girls. When he reached Arin, you were proud that she didn't cry and he smiled at you both.

"You should go to the hospital wing after all of this is over," the Prince said, "You might be needing stitches."

"It's just a small cut," you said, but Prince Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at you.

"It's an order."

You couldn't resist rolling your eyes this time and he laughed at that, you internally slapping yourself because how dare you roll your eyes at the Prince? But he didn't mind, telling you both to take care of yourselves as he went to the next girl and the next.

You did go to the hospital wing after everything settled, the nurses cleaning the wound and bandaging it saying it wouldn't need stitches, and you went to Arin's room after that. The girls were going to have dinners in their room since they were a bit shaken after the events of today, and you decided to have dinner with Arin.

"Do you think the rebels come here often?" Arin asked.

"I remember dad told me that they came at least three times a year on average," you said, "Some people aren't happy with the Selection, thinking the royals are neglecting the problems of the people, so I guess this was bound to happen."

"I hope it doesn't happen again," Arin shivered, "I'd hate anyone to get hurt."

"I hope so too," you suddenly weren't hungry anymore.

You decided to go for a walk before sleeping, just to clear your head, dressed in your deep purple silk pyjamas. The guard were now recognizing you and let you out without question, and you walked along the rows of flowers, your head blank, until you noticed a figure strolling casually as well.

"I guess you needed to clear your head too?"

It was the Prince.

You nodded, bowing once, "Are you... alright?"

"I am, thank you for asking," he said, and now that he was closer, you noticed that he was still in the same clothes, the coat off now and sleeves rolled, hair a beautiful mess. "How's your wound?"

"Oh, it's okay," you showed your bandaged palm, "It was a small cut after all."

"I've been meaning to ask you," he shifted, "How did you know to click the shutters close? Not everyone gets that on first try."

"Ah," you nodded, "It's my dad- he taught me how to when I visited the palace once, in case rebels came when I was present."

The Prince nodded, "When I told Sophie about you, she told me who your parents were- I was trained by your dad, in fact."

"You were?" Your jaw fell open- now that was news.

"I was, I knew your dad well," he smiled, "And your mother too. They were very close to us. I'm surprised you didn't tell me earlier."

"I... I didn't know," you admitted, "They always kept their work a secret from everyone, just said they served in the palace. I guess they didn't want anyone asking for favours or something, not even their own daughter."

The Prince noticed how confused you looked, "There must have been a good reason for that. They always talked about you. They were immensely proud of you- your dad was always comparing me to you as well."

"And how exactly? I don't think I can compete with you, Prince."

"Call me Hongjoong," he said, putting his hands in his pockets, "He said you were a better learner than I was. He said, and I quote, 'my daughter could flip you as if you weighed nothing but a sack of potatoes- an empty one at that'."

You couldn't help it, you laughed out loud at that. "I cannot! I mean, I could, but I'm not that good. I'm sure he only said that to get you to learn quicker."

"It worked," Hongjoong laughed, "So he trained you too?"

"Just a bit, mostly defense," you told him.

"Have you visited their room yet? Did Sophie update you?"

"She did, but I... I can't go visit their room right away."

Hongjoong paused a bit before continuing to walk. "Is there a reason?"

"I... I just need some time. Now that I'm here, it feels like they're still running around, mom nowhere in sight like always, dad with the guards while I wait for them to finish their work so we can go home. Plus, with all the new information about their jobs..."

"I understand," Hongjoong assured you, "Take your time. It must be hard for you."

"Thank you," you passed a smile, "Will the rebels be back anytime soon?"

Hongjoong realized you must know a great deal about rebels, "They might come back sooner than we expect. They're not happy with what's going on these days. It'll take some time to calm them down."

You nodded, suddenly aware of the time you'd taken. "I'm sorry- I'm always interrupting your alone time-"

"No, it's perfectly fine, I appreciate this," Hongjoong said, and you narrowed your eyes at him, making him laugh.

"I truly do. I like it when I have someone to talk to, to sort my thoughts out, but there's not many I can talk to. If you'd like... can we be... friends? Can we talk like this sometimes? No pressure though, don't feel obliged to accept just because I'm, well, the Prince."

You shut your mouth before your jaw could drop- did he really ask you to be his friend?

"You don't have many friends, do you?"

Hongjoong put his hands up in surrender, and you pretended to consider. "I guess we can. If you were friends with my dad... you should know I'm very much like him."

"Bad humour and no regard for authority? Can I take my offer back?"

"Too late, Prince," you grinned.

Hongjoong sighed dramatically, asking you if you wanted to take a seat with him and you nodded, sitting on the bench and watching the sky. "Can I ask you why you're holding this Selection in the first place?"

Hongjoong looked at you once before sighing and looking back, "I didn't want to, actually. The thought of 30 girls with their futures depending on my decision is more intimidating than I thought. But it was a tough time for everyone, and the Selection was killing two birds with one stone- providing a distraction and hope to the kingdom, while hoping I find someone who can stand me here."

You looked at him, "You think those girls can't stand you?"

"I know most of them will be changing their minds once they get to know me and this lifestyle more. It's more appealing from a far, as you must know."

"You do have a point," you nodded, "It must be tough. I'm..."

"Don't say you're sorry, I know that if you're like your dad, you're enjoying my misery."

You passed him a guilty look as you both laughed, and you shook your head, "I really hope you find someone you'll like in there. Someone who can actually stand you, the Prince and... Hongjoong. Both."

Hongjoong nodded at that, a little surprised, "Not many people know how I am really like."

"If you want, I can tell the girls you're the type to become jealous really quick."

Hongjoong frowned, and you grinned, "Sophie might have told me how you used to watch us kids play outside with a little scowl on your face-"

"I was a kid!" Hongjoong laughed out loud, "Of course I wanted to join you all!"

"You didn't tell me this the night I told you I was one of those kids," you looked at him pointedly.

"Should I really have told you that I was the one you called 'stuck-up brat'?"

You gasped at that, Hongjoong silly dancing victoriously while you looked away, ashamed. "It's okay, we were kids. I was envious, and you thought I was, well, a stuck-up brat."

"You're not denying it."

"You think I'm a stuck-up brat?"

"I don't know, are you?" You raised a brow, and Hongjoong grinned mischievously.

"I guess you'll find out soon."

The two of you stared at each other, not even realizing until you heard one of the guards walk past, the two of you suddenly drawing out of your trance, and you both got up, suddenly feeling aware.

"I should go," Hongjoong laughed awkwardly, "It's been nice talking to you."

"Same," you told him, brushing your clothes, saying bye and beginning to go back, pausing when you felt a hand stop you by the arm.

"Sorry, I just wanted to say... don't tell about our... interactions, to anyone- not even Arin. I don't want the other girls to give you a hard time because they'll think you're competition or something like that."

"Of course," you said, "I'm only a shadow here, don't worry."

You thought there was something sad about Hongjoong's smile as he said bye and went back.

-----------------

Hongjoong remained busy handling kingdom affairs while you were busy with Arin as you gave her language lessons, kept her up to date with everything, sat with her through the etiquettes lesson and guided her along. Everyone was getting used to conversing through you, and you were glad that no one could hate Arin- she was always so bright, always smiling and happy and clearly meant no harm, but you also understood that part of the reason was because the girls clearly thought Hongjoong would let go of Arin sooner or later.

But everyone sure was envious of Arin's date, scheduled in the evening before dinner. Arin sat in her room in pants and a blouse, wondering which recipes she should try.

"Tell me you'll help me too," Arin narrowed her eyes at you.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to interfere in your date," you grinned slyly.

"You witch!" Arin laughed, "You know we work better together."

It was true- Arin had taught you quite a few recipes and she was usually instructing you to do the menial tasks while she worked on the main ones to save time.

"Will you bring some for us?" Sana sighed dreamily, "It's been forever since I tried food that was not from the palace."

"I know right," Momo slumped in the couch, "I really want to go out and taste something new."

"Maybe you all should come and help us too," Arin said nervously.

"No, never," Mina scolded Arin, "Stop being nervous! The Prince will be here any second."

As if on cue, a knock sounded, and the maids immediately got up in a flurry, gushing over how Arin looked one last time before opening the door, letting Hongjoong in while they left, grinning.

"Ah, so you're prepared," Hongjoong scanned Arin- it was his first time seeing Arin so casual, yet she still looked elegant enough.

"Prince Hongjoong," Arin curtsied.

"Please skip the formalities and call me Hongjoong when we're alone," he smiled at the two of you.

"You're going in the kitchen in that?" Arin asked, and you kept in your laughter as you told Hongjoong what she had said.

"Now what's wrong with this-" Hongjoong looked down at his very polished black jacket, his prince attire- his usual attire.

"Do you think you're just going to be sitting back and watching her cook?" You asked Hongjoong, "You're helping."

Hongjoong's jaw dropped and as you told Arin what you'd said, she grinned, giving you a thumbs up, and Arin went ahead, snaking her arm in his and saying, "Lead the way."

"If I had known I was going to be the one doing the work," Hongjoong looked at you, "I would have maybe changed the location of the date and accepted Arin as a better chef."

"Which is why this was a surprise, but you should have figured it out," Arin said with a wink, making him laugh.

He led you both to the kitchens, where the staff greeted the Prince, Arin and you, saying this was a first time someone would have a date in the kitchen.

Arin asked for aprons, helping tie Hongjoong's and you smiled at how comfortable they looked with each other. Arin asked for the chef and looked at you as she said, "We're making brownies and scones. Should I leave the brownie batter to you?"

"Of course," you nodded, "I'll stay close by- you and Hongjoong can work on the scones."

You translated that to everyone and the chefs went to get the ingredients, Arin following them as she picked some of her own while you rolled your sleeves.

"You should roll your sleeves too," you said to Hongjoong who was watching you, "And do keep your arms tucked in as you work."

"Alright, ma'am," Hongjoong saluted, following your lead.

"So have you never baked before?"

"I have never cooked or baked," Hongjoong said, "I was always too busy."

"Well, first time for everything," you smiled, "Don't worry, Arin is a sweetheart. Even if you do something wrong, she'll tell you you did excellent with a smile."

And sure enough- Hongjoong was supposed to be following Arin but he was way too clumsy, which earned a good laugh from everyone, but Arin kept encouraging him- in Korean, thanks to the last lesson you'd given her where she'd specifically worked on phrases she'd probably need. It was cute to watch Hongjoong struggle with English while Arin struggled with Korean.

You were standing beside Hongjoong, not too far so you could help if they mistranslated anything, and the few cooks were following your lead, asking you about how Arin knew so much about baking- which you told them was thanks to her aunts being professional bakers.

"That looks way better than mine," Hongjoong looked at your batter as you dropped the chocolate chunks in the bowl, "can I have the chocolate?"

"No," you continued pouring the rest of the chocolate in, but Hongjoong slipped a hand in and picked a chunk, grinning in victory.

"Focus on your batter, Prince," you scoffed, "You don't wanna embarrass yourself on your first date, do you?"

"I'm afraid it's too late to worry," Hongjoong sulked as he fiddled with the spoon.

"Now we bake," Arin announced, smiling at you two and wriggling her brows at you, and you told her you just needed 5 more minutes to be done. Arin helped Hongjoong with the rest of his batter, and Hongjoong finally sat and watched as she set the tray and put it in the oven.

"Good riddance," Hongjoong muttered, and you kicked his leg from under the table before going to pour your own batter and tossing it in the ovens.

There were enough scones and brownies for everyone in the kitchen- a few people only, which meant you could take some back to the maids too. The three of you sat side by side as you watched the scones and brownies rise dreamily.

"I love this smell," Hongjoong muttered, "Maybe I should come in the kitchen when I want to relax."

You were sitting beside Arin so you quickly told her what he'd just said, and she smiled, "I used to do that. The smell alone made half my worries disappear."

"I can see that," Hongjoong smiled.

"The kitchens are open to you lot whenever you want to come," the head chef announced, "Especially you, Arin. I already know these are going to taste amazing. We could learn a thing or two from you."

Arin grinned, "Maybe I could learn from you all too- the food is amazing here. Thank you."

Hongjoong noticed how everyone was looking at Arin with admiration- she truly was humble and kind.

One by one the bells started to ding and Arin and the chefs picked out the trays from the oven, setting it on the tables to cool down, Arin swatting Hongjoong's hand away when he tried to pick one, scolding him because it was hot and 'a Prince should be patient' at which Hongjoong rolled his eyes and slumped down as he glared at the scones and brownies.

"Come on," you teased, "you're sulking way too much."

"Just because I'm a prince doesn't mean I can't," his sulk went deeper, making everyone around laugh.

Arin fanned one of the trays, making Hongjoong's face lift in hope, and when she finally touched the food to make sure it wasn't burning hot, she picked a scone and a brownie, setting it on a plate and adding a few toppings before handing it to Hongjoong.

"Go ahead and try," she smiled.

Hongjoong looked at you for confirmation and you nodded, and he finally picked the fork and took a bite of the scone, then a bite of the brownie, Arin eagerly waiting for him to react.

Hongjoong looked at the chef first, who raised his brows, then at Arin, then at you, and then slid his plate away.

"This is too good to eat."

Arin's face fell but you laughed, telling her what he had just said, and she almost cried, scolding Hongjoong for making it look like he hated it, at which he laughed, digging into his sweets again, everyone else passing scones and brownies too, compliments flowing for Arin and you didn't need to translate any of that- their faces said enough.

"For the maids," Arin picked some scones and brownies and asked for a box, and Hongjoong smiled.

"Maybe we should make these again for dinner one day. I'm sure the king and queen would love these too."

Arin gasped in surprise, but when Hongjoong nodded to assure her, she smiled, "Maybe."

"I should compliment you too, after all, you made the brownies," Hongjoong looked at you.

"This was Arin's recipe, I only followed the instructions," you told him.

"You know, my mother says that nothing tastes the same when made by different people even when the instructions followed remain perfectly same- the taste of one's hand- or heart," Hongjoong smiled, "you got that too."

You rolled your eyes but you were clearly pleased, "Thanks. I guess I do."

After eating until you all felt like you would throw up if you ate any more, Hongjoong thanked Arin for this experience, saying he'd never forget it and he promised to come to the kitchen more. Arin told him he didn't need to, but he could come if he wanted to relax. He walked her to the room, leaving with a kiss to her cheek that had her jumping up and down after he left, and you laughed at how she was going on about her 'fantasies fulfilled'. Entering, the maids waiting, you waved the boxes in front of them and they thanked Arin graciously before eating and moaning because these were too good.

The news of Arin's date got to the girls too, and you heard them talk about it the next morning, asking Arin how the Prince was like, if he was too uptight or if he was funny, etc. Arin truly felt like a star.

You sat through the history lesson, learning things yourself as you conveyed everything to Arin. It was the history about how the kingdoms of Wonderland and Utopia had united, how they always used to be at war for one reason or another, until about 49 years ago when the two had been united by the king, peace settling for a few decades, but the people growing restless with every passing year as discrimination grew.

Sophie asked how the rebels could be handled, and the girls had interesting answers to give- ranging from getting rid of the rebels altogether to actually finding a solution, such as a hearing from the rebels where they talk about the problems with the royal family and figure something out together.

Two days passed by, Hongjoong spending time with all the girls whenever he could, the girls who hadn't had a date yet getting insecure and nervous about it, until it was finally the day for the report- the first time the girls would have a live talk and reveal themselves to the public after getting in the palace.

Sophie had done you a favour and let you in on the script for Arin's questions, so she could prepare her English accordingly, and you were glad for it. Though you would be present and guiding her along, it would really help if Arin already knew what could be asked.

The maids insisted on getting you in a dress, but you strongly rejected- you really did not want to steal Arin's spotlight. You would only distract the public if you appeared the same as Arin. And even though Arin pouted and asked you (something you couldn't usually refuse), you had to shake your head no this time.

"Just dress me in the best suit," you winked at the maids, "I'll be good with that."

So while Arin had dressed in a deep red gown with lots of frill and pearls, her hair half tied with curls framing her face, you had dressed to match in a deep red three-piece suit. You absolutely loved it and thanked the maids for coming up with this- the pearls near the neckline were cherry on top. Your hair was slicked back, pearl earring in your ears the only jewellery you had along with a watch. You had matching heels to finish your outfit.

"We look more like a couple than I could ever look with Hongjoong," Arin grinned.

It was true. You grinned back, "We'll get Hongjoong to match with you one day and see who makes the better couple."

Arin slapped your arm playfully, and then you were escorted by the guards to the room where the broadcast would be conducted, and you had to blink your eyes a few time to adjust to the lights and the colours of the selected girls seated in the front. You both went inside, sitting side by side in the second row, Byeol next to you.

"Arin looks gorgeous, but you? Holy hell, woman."

"Is it too much?" You frowned- you hadn't expected to grab attention.

"I'm just saying you look great- if you weren't in a different dress, you could easily pass as one of the selected," she smiled, focusing her attention back on the crowd.

You thought about it- would people think the same after seeing you on television? Probably not. You were only a translator, you'd be sitting in the shadows as you translated everything to Arin- and you hoped she wouldn't need you.

The girls were pretty nervous, one even having to rush to the toilet because she felt like she was going to throw up. You looked at Arin- she seemed excited but the way she was unconsciously cracking her knuckles gave her away.

"If you crack your knuckles while you sit there I'll break your fingers," you warned.

Arin laughed, "You're such a mother. But if I do, feel free to poke me. I'll do the breaking myself."

You chuckled, the lights getting dimmer, and the host Kang Yeosang entered, his hair in a blonde mullet, and looking as beautiful as ever.

If there was one man you thought looked perfect, it was Yeosang. He looked too perfect to be real, and you were probably more nervous about getting to meet your favourite celebrity and host of variety shows or talk shows than the interview itself.

"I think I'm gonna have to shake you one or two times during the interview," Arin said as she closed your mouth shut with a finger, laughing at how star-struck you were after seeing Yeosang, and as you glared at her, you pointed to the girls- you weren't the only one with a hanging jaw.

"Good evening, Wonderland!" Yeosang announced, looking as much a prince as the Prince himself in his deep purple suit, "Tonight, we'll be getting an inside scoop from these young ladies I know you're all dying to meet. We'll learn how things are going with Prince Hongjoong, we're just going to ask! Let's welcome... Miss Kim Kahi from Utopia City!"

Kahi moved elegantly from the first row to the stage, greeting Yeosang with a curtsy before settling down. She was composed and did well, so did the others, but it was pretty predictable. Some girls were acting shy on purpose- you'd never seen them like this and you knew because you were usually the one sitting back and watching everyone objectively. Some were clearly nervous but Yeosang joked a bit, which helped them calm down.

Arin was called when there were two girls remaining- the two of you got up, you immediately rushing to the backstage from where you would seat yourself as Arin would walk to the stage and greet Yeosang. You stood waiting until Arin was ready to sit, which was when Yeosang shook your hand too, and you prayed your hand wasn't sweaty as you smiled.

"Miss Arin from Mist Island, a unique case here because of the language barrier- I hope you're holding up well?"

Arin looked at you in confirmation and you nodded, and she smiled as she looked at Yeosang, "I'm doing well, thank you for asking."

"Ah, you sound good! Do we have your translator to thank for that, Miss...?"

You told him your name, "Arin is a quick and eager learner, I'm sure she'll get the hang of this is no time."

"Definitely! So, Arin, tell us, have you had a date with the Prince yet?"

"I have, we made cake in the kitchen," Arin was gleaming, making Yeosang chuckle.

"Now that's something unheard of! So tell us- is our Prince as good at baking as he is at running the kingdom or does he need practice?"

Arin looked at you with confusion this time, and you quickly told her what he'd said, "He's very good! Pro!"

As she said that, she looked at Hongjoong sitting in the front row who was laughing and shaking his head, making the crowd laugh as well as the cameras panned back and forth.

"I think the Prince disagrees, now which one of you is lying?" Yeosang narrowed his eyes dramatically, and you told Arin, Arin instead asking you to explain.

"She says she would never lie about this," you tried to stop the grin appearing on your face.

"Let's hear from the Prince," Yeosang looked at Hongjoong, who picked up his mic.

"Arin refuses to admit I'm a bad chef, but I did exceptionally well thanks to Arin's instructions. She's an excellent guide and baker!"

"Ah, that's great to hear," Yeosang smiled, "So Miss Arin, how do you feel about the Selection?"

Now Arin got the question, and she spoke confidently, "I'm honoured to be a part of it, no matter the outcome. Whoever he marries will be a lucky person. And..."

Arin turned to you as she spoke, and you cleared your throat, "Arin says that Prince Hongjoong is an amazing person, and she hopes he finds a good partner through this process, no matter who that is."

Yeosang smiled warmly at the two of you, "Thank you, Miss Arin. We hope to see you again in the next report, good luck!"

With that, you and Arin took off, you going backstage while Arin stood for a few pictures before leaving the stage. As you made your way back, the girls grinned at you. "You two were amazing. Arin did such a good job, I feel happy for her."

"Thank you Byeol, Nayoung," you smiled.

After the interviews, you all were led to have dinner in the hall, where Hongjoong joined, applauding everyone for doing a good job with the interviews. He was going from one girl to the other to have small talk after dinner, and then he finally reached the two of you.

"Good job, Arin!" Hongjoong smiled and Arin thanked him, "You did better than I expected."

"You should thank her," Arin said, but the two of you shook your head.

"It was all you, Arin," you said, and Hongjoong nodded.

"A little bit of her too, but all you," he laughed.

Arin smiled, and Hongjoong looked at you, "Are we walking in the garden tonight?"

"Are we?" You cocked your head- was that an invitation? Hongjoong only smiled.

"I'm not supposed to tell you already, but there's an assignment coming up where Arin would have to present something verbally. Just dropping a hint- foreign visit taking place soon."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," you zipped your lips, squeezing Arin's hand as in 'wait'.

"I'll be taking my leave then, have a good night, Arin."

"Good night," Arin smiled and Hongjoong took her hand and kissed it before taking his leave, leaving Arin watching him dreamily.

"Snap out of it, woman, we have work to do," you clicked your fingers in front of her, "Assignment. Foreign visitors, you'll have to present something. Don't tell anyone- he only told us."

"Why did he only tell us though?" Arin frowned.

"He probably wants you to do a good job," you put a hand on your hip, "Which means you might be one of his favourites right now."

"Wow... that's good to hear," she let out a breathy laugh.

"Also... I should tell you this, but Hongjoong knows me from our childhood too- not much," you sighed, "Remember how I told you I used to visit the palace often? He's seen me around."

"Ah, that's so cool!" Arin gushed, "I wish he'd known me too."

"That's not cool in any way," you muttered, flashbacks of your dark past- especially the fact that he knew you used to call him a stuck-up brat flowing in your head, and you shook the thoughts away.

"I'll tell you more later- I found out that my mother was the queen's maid and father was Hongjoong's personal trainer- tell no one, okay?"

"Who would I tell, you're my only friend," Arin rolled her eyes, "But how come you did not know this? They didn't tell you?"

"That's what I keep asking," you bit your lips, "Why am I the last person who knows this?"

----------------

You tried to ignore the excitement you felt simply because Hongjoong had very casually invited you for a walk. You supposed that now that you were 'friends', you'd be hanging out more. Plus, it really looked like he needed someone like you right now- someone who could understand Hongjoong but understand the selected girls too, help him sort his thoughts out.

What you did not know was the thoughts that ran through Hongjoong's mind when he saw you at the broadcast room.

Hongjoong knew it was somewhat wrong, seeing how there were literally 22 girls who all dressed up for him, in absolutely beautiful gowns- and they did look beautiful. However, when you had walked in with your slicked back hair dressed in a suit... he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

He would never say it out loud- there was a goddamned Selection going on just for him. But you were stunning, you were funny, you knew more about how the palace and this country ran than any of the girls here, and Hongjoong had one question in his mind that he wanted to ask you tonight.

Now that part was tricky. He would have to remain as casual as possible, and he knew you were very clever and would realize if something was off too.

Hongjoong thought it was crazy- you two hadn't known each other for two long, but the way you clicked... he supposed you were just one of those people who he'd felt like he'd known forever. And even if you were going to be just friends, he really appreciated that.

He arrived in the garden first- or so he thought, until he saw you playing with a flower in a corner and he took in your appearance- you were still in your dress, only your heels changed.

Hongjoong had to shake his head- this was downright cruel. He was sure you didn't realize the effect you had on him tonight but maybe the deities did and they were punishing him for having these thoughts when 22 girls were waiting for him.

As if you'd notice him watching you, you turned to him, smiling and waving at him, unknown to the fact that he had been here and thinking about you. Hongjoong neared, taking a deep breath.

"Long night," he sighed, "You didn't change."

"Neither did you," you pointed out, and he looked down as if he hadn't realized.

"I was busy," he laughed, and you raised a brow.

"I was busy too."

"With what?"

"Just this and that," you sighed, "Helping Arin calm down after all the excitement, playing a game of cards with the maids. I didn't realize it was so late until I went to my room, and I wouldn't want to keep our busy prince waiting now, would I?"

"I love how you always find a way to mock me with my title," Hongjoong shook his head.

"So," you turned to him, beckoning him to walk and he did alongside you, "Is there a reason you called me for a walk?"

"Can't friends do that?" Hongjoong pouted.

"True," you shrugged, "How was tonight then? Like anyone?

"Well," Hongjoong took a long time to think, "Arin certainly did a great job. Kahi was a natural. The people love Nayoung. Byeol is well educated."

"I asked about who you liked," you gave him a pointed look, and laughed at how torn he looked, "Too early to ask?"

"Yes," Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I don't know if I like any of them like that. I don't feel a spark with anyone- maybe there's no such thing as a spark."

"There is," you assured him, and he raised a brow.

"Have you felt it?"

"I felt it, tonight," you smirked, watching his expressions change into confusion.

"Who, exactly, are you talking about?"

"Well, who do you think? Come on, it's easy. Who looked like a Prince tonight?"

"Me?" Hongjoong pointed at himself, and you laughed.

"I said looked like a Prince. It was Yeosang, of course. I can't believe how handsome he is! The camera really doesn't do justice to his beauty, and that's crazy because he looks so beautiful even on tv."

Hongjoong groaned, "Come on! Yeosang?"

"And why not?" You put your hands on your hips, "Can't a girl dream?"

"Sure. Dream along, I won't stop you," Hongjoong waved a hand in dismissal, "For a moment I thought there was a special someone back home."

"Nah," you smiled, shaking your head, "Never has been, and at this rate, never will be."

"Why? I think you're pretty fun to be around."

"You think that because you have no one to talk to and I'm your best option."

"Not at all," Hongjoong shook his head, "I know a lot of people. I'm not lying."

"Okay, let's accept that I'm fun and likable. I never liked anyone. Well, maybe if Yeosang would give me a chance..."

"I'll banish him if he looks at you funny," Hongjoong mumbled, making you snort in a very unladylike manner, "But I was wondering... did you enter the Selection?"

"Me?" You looked at him, and he nodded, "No, I didn't."

"Why?" Hongjoong asked, and you scanned his face.

"A number of reasons, but the main one being the lack of self confidence I have. The probability of getting picked, and then getting picked after the Selection... it's too little and too stressful. Why would I do that to myself? Also, I don't think I'm princess material."

"Well," Hongjoong began, "I can understand that you thought you didn't stand a chance, but I think... I think you would have done well."

"Oh, come on," you slapped his arm lightly, "Stop making fun of me."

Hongjoong grinned, and you shook your head. You'd just never fantasized about Hongjoong or being a princess. You were glad for Arin though, who had. Hongjoong was staring at you and you caught him.

"Would you have liked me to enter?" You wriggled your brows, and Hongjoong pretended to throw up, making you mutter a few curse words under your breath.

"Anyways," Hongjoong exhaled, "I'm thinking of announcing an elimination tomorrow. I've talked to every one of the girls. I don't want to keep hanging this matter."

"Ah, do take your time. It's your future, after all."

"Of course," he sighed, "Wife. Friend. Partner. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I hope to find it soon."

"Don't worry about the sparks, by the way," you said, "you should really get to know the girls. Sparks will come if you click with them and begin to like them."

"I suppose so," Hongjoong said.

"Can I ask you something?" You said after a moment, and he nodded, "Will I be going home tomorrow, with Arin?"

"Isn't this cheating?" Hongjoong asked, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'm not telling Arin. Come on, as a friend, I should know if I should sleep after packing my bags or not."

"Well, you're not going. I like Arin more than most of the girls there- she's easy to be with. Plus, I think I'll keep her anyway if it means I get to eat those scones and brownies anytime-"

"Prince Hongjoong, are you out of your mind-"

"I'm kidding!" Hongjoong laughed, "About the brownie part. Though I certainly wouldn't mind- I'm just saying that I'll keep Arin for now. And don't worry, if I decide to send her home, I'll let you know beforehand."

"Can you promise me one thing?" You said, and Hongjoong stopped as he looked at you. "Promise me that if you don't like Arin, you won't keep her hanging in here. You'll let her go. She's my best friend, and I don't want her to live here longer if she would be living in false hope."

"Does she really like me?" Hongjoong asked, and you shrugged.

"I'm still trying to figure that out- if she's still in her fantasy phase or if she genuinely likes you. But can you please consider her, despite the language barrier?"

"Of course, I am already," Hongjoong assured you.

"Thank you," you gave him a nod, "I know I shouldn't be asking this of you- you're the Prince, for heck's sake-"

"I'm just Hongjoong when I'm with you, so... you can ask anything."

You looked at him in gratitude, trying to ignore the way your heart flipped when you heard that. "Thank you. Should we go now? It's pretty late."

"We should," Hongjoong said, and his face twisted into surprise when you tucked the little flower you had been playing with in his hair over his ear.

"You look pretty," you laughed, beginning to walk back.

"Hey," Hongjoong said, and you turned, "I don't think I told you... but you looked really beautiful tonight."

"Me?" You pointed at yourself, making him laugh a bit as he nodded.

"Yes, you. I like this look on you. I mean it."

You made an impressed face as you playfully ran your hands over your hair as if to slick them back, making him laugh before saying bye and taking off.

As you lay in bed, you tried to ignore the fact that he'd call everyone pretty in the hall just a few hours ago, but-

He'd called you beautiful. And he had said that he meant it.

You wondered what life would have been like if you had entered the Selection, and wondered if you were better off like this.

------------------

The next few days were the busiest days you'd all seen so far- with the royal family of Halaland visiting Wonderland, it was all hustle and bustle in the palace, and you'd think the palace had months to prepare as they set the tents, as decoration was done and champagne of the highest quality was brought out from the cellars.

You'd all learn that the royals of Halaland were easy to offend, so the selected girls especially had to be super careful with their etiquettes and manners, but they were no boomers as well and loved to enjoy so you had to charm them. Natural charmers like Kahi and a few other girls were pretty relaxed compared to girls like Sohee and Wonyoung who were naturally shy and reserved.

As for Arin... she was both nervous but also confident now that everyone including Hongjoong had praised her for her natural charms, and you were glad she finally understood that she just needed to be herself.

This time, you had to give up wearing the suit, since it was a very formal event, and your maids came up with the brilliant idea combining the elegance of a suit with a dress- a sheath surplice neck asymmetrical dress with sleeves that reached a bit below your elbows, the length of it just above your knees. You felt strangely exposed after wearing suits and pants for so long, but you couldn't deny you felt good- the pale mauve colour of it seeming more purple when you shifted in the light- you couldn't help but admire the dress.

"You guys always outdo yourselves," you breathed as you looked at yourself in the mirror, paired with heels of the same colour, "How did you even come up with this colour? It's so nice!"

"Wait till you see Arin," Momo smiled, "She'll look different tonight- we've had enough of her innocent looks."

"Ooh," you raised a brow, "I'm looking forward to that."

"Come on, let me do your hair," Mina made you sit, tying your hair in a loose bun with messy curls falling, pearls in your hair, a pearl bracelet the only accessory you would be wearing tonight apart from your usual diamond studs.

"Dressing you up feels like you're one of the Selected too," Sana smiled as she patted your arm.

"Even I start to feel like it- you guys do too much to me, it's really unnecessary."

"Please, where's the fun if you hang beside Arin looking as plain as a mouse? Everyone deserves to look stylish."

You shook your head, the maids taking you to Arin's room who was already done getting ready before you, and you audibly gasped when you saw her in the midnight black off-shoulder dress with a silver belt on the waist, shimmery stars growing more as you looked down, her hair left straight and open, pinned at one side, her eyes bold and smokey.

"Now, now," you scanned her up and down, "Who is this? I don't think I recognize this sexy lady."

"Shut up," Arin laughed, "Is it too much?"

"I think it's perfect. Hongjoong won't be able to look away from you after this. And if he does, I'll assume he's blind."

Arin smiled half-heartedly, and you assumed she was nervous, asking her if she was feeling okay.

"Let's just go, I need to go over the things with the girls too," Arin said.

You reached the great hall where some of the girls were already there, and the way they gasped when Arin came, hugging her and complimenting her, you felt a little teary eyed. After every elimination, the remaining girls seemed to get closer too despite the growing competition, and now that Hongjoong had eliminated 6 more girls, they were down to 16.

"You look wonderful too, I'm glad I'm seeing you in something that is not a suit," Nayoung scoffed, and you scoffed back playfully.

"Ladies!" Sophie came hurriedly, dragging all the girls to the entrance so they could receive the guests, "Remember- chins up, backs straight, and don't forget to smile."

The girls stood in two rows, in front of each other. The sounds of laughter and chatter grew stronger with every passing minute, and you stood on your tiptoes to peek at the guests, noticing Arin doing the same, and you poked her from the back.

"Stand straight, miss," you ordered, and she gave you a guilty smile.

The ladies and the gents started to enter, all in the most elegant dresses you'd ever seen, mostly shades of blue and blacks, the girls all greeting with hugs and kisses, getting compliments with a smile. It seemed that the royal family of Halaland was very interested in the Selection.

As the guests dispersed, greeting the queen who looked regal in her own black gown, the king and Hongjoong were at the farthest corner of the hall, and the girls all dispersed around him, hoping to catch Hongjoong's eye.

You and Arin stood by the table, you sipping on the champagne which tasted as expensive as it must be, while Arin was looking around nervously.

"Go ahead," you told her, "I think you're good enough in Korean to have a basic conversation. Or should I tag along?"

"You should, just in case. I don't wanna embarrass myself," Arin pouted.

"Arin, honey, you're adorably sexy today and if you fumble a bit with words, that would only add to your charm tonight. I'll tag along, lead the way, wherever you wanna go."

Arin grinned as she led the way, the two of you walking around until one of the younger guests, who you assumed was the Princess of Halaland approached Arin.

"It's so good to see you in person," she said in English and took Arin's hand, "You're my pick, just so you know."

Arin gasped, "Really? Thank you!"

"You're cute," she grinned, looking at you, "And you're definitely doing a great job since she's still here."

"Thank you, your Highness," you bowed.

"Call me Miyeon," she said to the two of you, "Should I put in a good word for you with Hongjoong?"

"Thank you, but I think Hongjoong should like me without anyone telling him to," Arin smiled.

"That's wise," Miyeon grinned, "Do you like Hongjoong?"

"I was more of a fan before the Selection, but I'm trying to really get to know him and how the palace works."

"See?" Miyeon looked at you, "I had a reason I picked her."

You gleamed at Arin, "See? You're doing great, Arin."

Arin laughed, and Miyeon told you she could take it from here, that she wanted to get to know Arin and would introduce her to the royal family. You thanked her, and though Arin looked nervous, you told her it was a great opportunity to interact with everyone with you not by her side, and Arin reluctantly but happily went with Miyeon.

You watched the two of them go away like a proud mother, going back to sipping your champagne, watching the girls interact with Hongjoong one by one too, Hongjoong all polite smiles.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A deep voice sounded, and you looked at the source- a tall boy around your age with a sharp face and even sharper eyes.

"Just observing," you said, "And you are?"

"Prince San of Halaland," he bowed, and you gasped, curtsying and apologizing for not recognizing him.

"I'm not one of the Selected girls, by the way, in case you want to interact with them."

"Oh no, why would I want to interact with the ladies who are only interested in Prince Hongjoong?" Prince San grinned, making you shrug as you smiled, "I saw you on the TV, you know. With Miss Arin. My sister Miyeon is crazy about her, and with the amount of times she watched her clips in front of me..."

"Ah, is that so?" You couldn't help but grin at that as you looked at Miyeon and Arin talking like long lost best friends, "They do look like they have been apart for too long now."

"Indeed," San huffed as he put his pockets and shook his head at the way his sister was chatting with Arin, all laughs and giggles, "How's job as a translator?"

"I'm actually Arin's best friend before translator, so I'm good," you told him, offering him a glass which he took, "And what brings the Prince to a measly translator?"

"Well," Prince San looked at you as he drank, "This mere old Prince wanted a break from girls in frills."

You scoffed, "I could have been in frills tonight too."

"And I still would have approached you," his gaze was... flirty. You raised a brow, and he laughed.

"I'm saying I could use good company," Prince San said as he scanned you up and down, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable-

"Prince San," a familiar voice sounded and you almost sighed in relief when you saw Hongjoong, "Long time."

"Long time," Prince San hugged him, "How's the Selection treating you?"

"I don't even know how it's treating me," Hongjoong said, finally looking at you and smiling, "You're alone."

"Arin was snatched by my sister," Prince San put a hand up as in surrender, "She's a bit of a fan of hers."

"Ah, I forgot you both were fluent in English. It's good for her to hang out without a translator for once," Hongjoong looked at you.

"Definitely, I had to push her, but she really needed this," you smiled.

"Well, you've got eyes, Prince San," Hongjoong pointed to a group of older ladies calling him over, and he rolled his eyes, muttering a bye before taking off.

"What did he want?" Hongjoong asked you, and you raised a brow at his tone.

"Nothing, he was just talking."

"Be careful of him- he loves to talk to people and then use them for 'distraction'," Hongjoong sighed, and you nodded- you'd got that vibe from him too, "Anyways, I never thought I'd see you in a dress."

You rolled your eyes, "It had to happen one day."

"I'm not complaining, you look as beautiful as always," Hongjoong said.

"Well, thanks, I guess. It's definitely a change I needed tonight- I think it would have been odd wearing a suit tonight, no one's wearing one."

"Exactly," Hongjoong nodded, "Can we see you in a skirt next time?"

"Stop teasing me," you almost slapped his arm, remembering you were very much in public, "Don't you have other girls to go to and tell them they look beautiful or something?"

"No," Hongjoong smiled distantly, and you frowned.

"Hello, you're still in the Selection. Go. The girls are literally waiting for you to notice them, and do compliment everyone at least. They all probably spent the whole day dressing up for you."

"Ugh, it's so pressurizing!" Hongjoong waved dramatically, and this time, you did push him forward, sending him laughing as he walked away to the nearest girl, who eagerly snaked her arm in his.

The rest of the event was mostly boring for you, making small talk with anyone who came to greet you, trying to avoid Prince San, and running into Hongjoong again, who said he needed to charge himself for at least two days after this event. Food was served and you finally sat with Arin and Miyeon as you ate, mostly listening to their conversation, adding a joke or two in between.

The night was still young, and you needed to take a breather. Telling Arin you'd be back, you went to freshen up a bit, deciding to go outside and take a breath of that chilly fresh air. You took a turn and nearly bumped into someone-

That someone being Hongjoong, your faces incredibly close as you both took ahold of your footing, finally breathing when you stepped away.

"Careful when you walk, we could have crashed rather painfully."

"What's got you in a rush?" You asked as you tried to calm your beating heart.

"Nothing, just coming back after taking a breather," he ran a hand through his hair, "I guess you're in need of one too."

"Absolutely," you said, "See you around, Prince."

With that, you took off into the night, leaving Hongjoong staring at your back for a good minute before he shook his head and walked back inside.

The rest of the night was as uneventful as it could be, Arin and Miyeon engaged in a heated conversation and you couldn't help but smile at the two- good for Arin. She had little to no conversation with the selected girls and you really liked that she was talking to someone finally.

As for Prince San, he kept coming back to you after every half an hour, apologizing for making you feel uncomfortable, saying he just wanted good company since he would be here for three days. So you accepted, the two of you finding yourself talking about anything and everything, from childhood stories to habits.

"Don't tell anyone, but I really adore cats," he smiled.

"That's surprising, but nothing to be ashamed of. You should tell everyone this, in fact. Don't you have pet cats? If I were you I would have opened my palace gates for all cats."

"Miyeon's allergic, so I can't do that," he sighed, looking at Miyeon and smiling warmly.

"You two seem close."

"We're practically best friends. We tell each other everything."

"That's sweet," you smiled, "What do you do other than performing your princely duties though?"

"Well, I like working out. I like to play with my cats- stray cats, in the garden. I also like to sing in the shower."

"You should hold a shower concert sometime, your cats could be your audience," you said, and he laughed out loud, putting his hand over his face- a habit of his. "Also, I have a question- I'm curious about something."

"Ask away."

"Do you and Miyeon have as much responsibility as Hongjoong, or is it less of a burden to you?"

"It's definitely less, my elder sister is in line for the throne. In fact, don't tell anyone, but we were considering their marriage before the Selection."

You gasped, "Really? Did they know each other or like each other?"

"They know each other, but not really- they've only met twice or thrice. But considering how things are in this kingdom, we decided against the unison of our kingdoms."

"Ah, so it just happened."

"I think it's sad," San shook his head, "I can't imagine marrying someone I don't know or like. I can't imagine having a Selection either- I don't know how he's handling it."

"I know. I think it's sad that he doesn't have the freedom to date and explore. What if he doesn't like any one of them?"

"Let's pray he does," San said.

-----------------

The next day was chaotic, to put it lightly.

Kahi had basically announced that she and Hongjoong had kissed last night. Nayoung admitted that she had kissed him a few days ago too.

The reactions ranged from jealousy to anger to curiosity- what was it like? Who kissed first? How did it feel?

You supposed it was bound to happen sooner or later, though you were a bit disappointed in the obvious choices- Nayoung being the palace star and Kahi being people's favourite.

However, you were more surprised when you conveyed all of this to Arin and she showed little reaction.

"Did you already know?" You asked.

"I didn't," she admitted, saying nothing, but you didn't spot disappointment on her face either, so you shrugged it off.

Arin told you that she would be spending more time with Miyeon since she was here for only two more days, offering you to join but you turned it down. You didn't want to be the third-wheel and you really wanted her to talk to someone else as well. You were glad that she had a friend now.

You went to Arin's room, chatting with Momo, Mina and Sana, catching up with palace gossip such as what the selected were up to, who was whose favourite, etc. After a game of cards, you went to your room and slumped on your bed, wondering if it was time to finally visit your parent's room.

You were still conflicted, but you decided to go to the kitchen and steal something while you would decide.

However, you were surprised with the sight of Hongjoong sitting by himself in a corner, watching the brownies in the oven bake, the rest of the kitchen busy with their own work, paying no heed to the Prince.

"How long has he been coming over?" You asked a woman you knew was the assistant chef.

"Every other day, basically. Sometimes he eats, sometimes he just watches us, poor thing," she waved her hand in a motherly nature.

As if Hongjoong had felt your stare, he turned, his face lighting at the sight of you as he patted the spot next to him.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a kingdom to run or girls to kiss?"

You cringed a bit, wondering if you sounded jealous, but he just put his face in his hands, clearly ashamed. "I guess everyone knows now."

"Well, it was bound to happen," you shrugged.

"I didn't mean to. With Nayoung... she kissed me at our date. And Kahi... I was really frustrated and- ugh, I feel ashamed."

You grinned, "No need to. You can kiss whoever you like."

Hongjoong clapped when the oven went off, and you got up to take the brownies out, placing them on the table you sat.

"Enough about that, why are you here?"

You sighed, "I was wondering if I had grown the balls to visit my parent's room."

Hongjoong choked on his brownie, muttering 'language'. "Do you want me to come with you?"

You looked at him, wondering if that was what you needed. Someone to be with you. Someone who knew.

"I don't know... I don't know if I am ready."

"Well, if you're here, you're ready," he told you, "Let's go after eating."

You watched him eat his brownie as he gazed at the rest dreamily. You wondered how you two had become so comfortable with each other- to the point you'd forget he was the Prince. Hongjoong caught you staring.

"What are you looking at?"

"You, obviously," you scoffed, shrugging awkwardly as you took a bite, "Just wondering how we got... here."

"I know," Hongjoong smiled, "I didn't expect a friend out of the Selection."

After eating another brownie, Hongjoong told you to wait while he got the keys from Sophie, and you sat trying to muster up your courage.

You were finally going to go to their room and not find them there, only their belongings left. You didn't know what to expect.

Hongjoong led you to the other side of the palace, stopping in front of a room you assumed was your parents. "If you really feel like not going in, I understand."

You shook your head, "Rather go in then turn around from here."

He smiled, putting in the key and turning, opening the door.

The first thing you noticed was the sunlight illuminating the white sheets on the bed, and it looked like someone had packed their belongings. You stepped in, Hongjoong behind you, turning once.

"This doesn't feel like their room anymore- everything's packed."

"Your mom's friend packed the stuff. Do you want me to leave while you look at it?"

"No- you can stay," you told him, and he took a seat, you bringing a box to the seat next to his, opening it to find your dad's clothes.

One by one, you opened the boxes- clothes, personal belongings, a few of their favourite books, and then you found a few pictures- pictures of you, pictures you had never seen. You didn't even remember half of the moments.

"You were cuter when you were little," Hongjoong laughed as he saw one of your pre-teen years.

"I admit that I was," you smiled, finding a photo album and flipping through it, Hongjoong bringing his seat closer.

You didn't realize you were crying until your tears fell on the album, and you hastily wiped your eyes, holding back a sob but failing when Hongjoong put a comforting hand on your back.

"It just... feels real, now that I'm in their room alone without them. They'd never let me come here alone," you smiled sadly.

"It's okay, let it out," Hongjoong rubbed your back as you sniffed, bursting in a sob and holding your face in your hands, Hongjoong's arm wrapping around you as he held you.

You really felt their absence now. You'd grown up away from your parents, but this was the one place you'd always be with your parents, with your dad's funny face as he cracked jokes while your mom would scold you both for being too loud.

Hongjoong handed you his handkerchief and you wiped your eyes and nose, apologizing for being a mess.

"It's okay, really," he said, "I know it's hitting now that you're here."

You nodded, another stream of tear escaping your eyes, and Hongjoong's heart ached- he had always seen you with a smile or a smirk on your face. He couldn't bear to see your eyes full of tears, pain evident on your face. He didn't realize what he was doing- he brought his hand to your face, cupping it as he wiped your tears, kissing your cheek once, drawing back rather slowly and you looked at him.

It was as if time stilled- his hand remained on your face, fingers unmoving, while the two of you stared at each other. You were the first to draw away from your trance, muttering a sorry, looking away awkwardly, staring at the distance as you wiped your face.

"Do you want to take some of these to your room?" He asked, getting up, "We can make a box and you can take that."

"That's actually a good idea," you got up, putting all the pictures and photo albums in a separate box, some of your mom's jewellery, your dad's favourite books, and then you were done. You noticed Hongjoong smiling at a picture.

"What are you looking at?"

"I think this is the most recent one," he waved it at you- he was right. It was from the time they visited your home, a candid picture of you where you were out in the sun with a hand in front of your face to block the light. Your mom was always clicking such random pictures of you. "I'm keeping this."

"You are not," you glared at him, coming forward to snatch it away from him but he only stepped back, holding it in the air, smirking playfully.

"I'm gonna frame it and keep it in my room, caption it, 'the only time she looked normal'- hey!"

Hongjoong was startled when you jumped, holding on his shoulder for support, but he took another step back, which was a mistake, and he ended up loosing his footing, his free arm automatically going around your waist for support, but he ended up falling back- thankfully on the bed-

And you on top of him.

You groaned loudly, getting up a bit and laughing loudly when you snatched the picture from him, waving it in front of his face in victory.

But he wasn't having any of that- and he really wanted to wipe the smirk off your face. He brought you closer- dangerously close- and you realized only then the position that you were in, your eyes going wide.

"You're giving me that photo back," his voice was hoarse, expressions smug.

You shook your head, putting your hand behind you, only one hand holding you up for support.

Hongjoong shook his head, muttering 'you're gonna make me regret this' as he pushed himself up and caught your lips in his, kissing you rather furiously, swallowing your surprised moan, his hand tightening around your waist as one hand snaked up your face.

He wasn't even giving you time to think or breathe as he moved his lips along yours, and you didn't realize you were responding to the kiss until you heard his own satisfied moan, your hand on his shoulder now squeezing it unconsciously, because this was wrong, this shouldn't be happening, but you didn't care in that moment, those thoughts being pushed out and out-

Hongjoong snatched the photo from you, and you thought he'd stop, but his hand went to the back of your head, guiding you along better, pushing into you until you both had switched position, your back arched very low.

You had to break apart for breath, your foreheads still joined as you both tried to catch your breath and you couldn't help but sigh at how out of breath you both were. His arms stayed around you as he drew apart, out of words as you stared at each other.

You shook your head, "All this for one photo?"

"I'm definitely framing it," he muttered.

You exhaled, licking your lips as your gaze fell on his, and you finally came to your senses, getting up and away from his warm embrace, suddenly feeling cold.

Hongjoong cleared his throat as he straightened himself, and you picked the box, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

"This was definitely only because you wanted to distract me and snatch the photo, right? Because you're in a goddamn Selection, Prince Hongjoong, and Arin is my best friend and I could never do this to her."

He felt his heart twist, but he nodded, "Definitely."

The two of you knew you weren't being honest. But you decided to ignore it for now. "Let's go then. I'll be taking this to my room."

"Alright," he said, motioning you to go forward, locking the room back. As he walked you to the chamber where the girls and you were staying, he told you he was gonna go to his room.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"That was... just how many girls have you kissed?"

Hongjoong realized you basically meant he was a pro, and he threw his head back as he laughed, making you laugh as well, the ice breaking for now. "I'm not that experienced!"

You made a face that said that you were not having any of it. "Liar."

"Believe it or not, before the Selection, I've only kissed twice," he admitted, and you gasped.

"I guess you're a natural. Let's forget about this, okay? Stay focused, Prince! 16 girls waiting for your response, and I'm not one of them."

Hongjoong saluted, going back to his room- once he was inside, he slumped down with his face in his hands.

He was glad you were cool and things hadn't messed up indefinitely, but...

One thing he was sure of was that he'd never felt anything like this in his life before- and he wanted more. He wasn't sure if he could forget this.

------------------

You knew you were never going to look at Hongjoong the same way again.

Something had inevitably changed between the two of you, and though you were trying not to think of it, you were now aware of him, more than ever. And though Hongjoong was an excellent actor, you could see that he was a bit awkward too.

But maybe you two only needed time to forget that.

What you did not know was that Hongjoong was trying to forget about it, he really was. And he was busying himself in more work than usual, trying to interact with the Selected girls more, another broadcast taking place as well.

With Arin hanging out with Miyeon, you didn't have anyone to talk to- but you were scared to face Arin after that. If Arin really liked Hongjoong and was serious about it (of course she did, there were no ifs!), you had messed up. Your friendship with Arin was worth so much to you and you couldn't ruin it.

With Hongjoong busy, you spent most of the time in your room or with San- who was surprisingly very easy to talk to. You two had a lot in common, in fact, which created a very comfortable bond between you two.

You sat with San near the pond, the two of you glum as you tossed pebbles in the pond. If anyone would see you two, they'd think you'd lost a war- the amount of sighs you two were breathing were too much.

"What's got you so down?" You finally asked, "I thought you were enjoying your stay."

"I was, and I'm not ready to go back to my normal life. I need a break so bad," San sighed, looking up at the sky wistfully.

"Ah... I can't imagine going back to my normal life either now," you could relate to him- even though it had been only three days for him, he must have been needing this breather.

"I'm sure Miyeon must be crying right now, in Arin's arms," he grinned.

"You wanna cry too? I'll join," you laughed, and San shook his head.

"Why do you wanna cry?" San looked at you, and you pursed your lips.

"You ever do something that you regret?" You asked, and he scoffed.

"If there was one thing-"

"No, like," you turned to him, "It wasn't your fault. But somehow... you got involved. And it was a bad decision- there is too much at stake. And you regret that- nothing's damaged yet, but you can't forget it either."

San narrowed his eyes at you, "Is this what I think it is?"

"I don't know what you think it is, but it's not that, and no, I don't even want to hear what you think it is-"

San burst out laughing, shaking his head as he looked at you, clicking his tongue at you. "Does this involve Hongjoong?"

You opened your mouth to say no, but his eyes said he had you, and you shut your mouth. "Why do you think this involves Hongjoong?"

"I've seen the way he looks at you- and don't tell me I'm wrong. I know a man's gaze and what it means."

You bit your lip, turning your face away from him. What was going on? Was San right about this?

"Something happened between you two?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," you muttered, and San patted your back.

"There are some things in life we cannot change. But... I think we should be able to make our decisions without caring about someone else. You know what I mean? Sometimes we should put ourselves first, if the risk is worth it."

"I really don't understand what you're saying, and this... sober talking doesn't suit you at all, San."

San slapped your arm, "One day my words are gonna make sense to you. 'til then... Let's forget about this, eh?"

You glared at him, nodding as he smiled, pinching your cheek. "You're cute. I'm gonna miss you when I go back. You should visit Halaland with Arin soon- promise me."

"No promises," you huffed, and San started whining, making you cringe away and laugh as you promised.

"I don't understand what's so Princely about you. If anyone saw you whining like a little- can I curse?" San nodded and you did, "They'd strip you of your title."

"Come on, just because I'm a Prince doesn't mean I can be a little brat- and yes, I'm censoring it. You're too harsh."

"I'm stating facts-"

You heard a rustle, and the two of you frowned as you looked at the source of the sound.

It was Miyeon and Arin, hand in hand as they giggled in low voices, walking along the footpath. You almost got up to say hi, but San held you by your arm, putting a finger to his mouth as he shook his head, and you frowned, not understanding why-

You looked at Arin and Miyeon- they were too close. Miyeon was rubbing Arin's hand almost lovingly, but-

"They like each other- or so Miyeon says."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked at San, then at the disappearing figure of the two, then back at San.

"Like each other? As in?"

"You know what I'm saying," San looked grim, "They like each other... and they kissed. I told her to be careful- if Arin gets caught now... she'd have to face a serious punishment."

You felt as if you were drowning as the words from the set of rules rang in your head: if any of the Selected are caught in a romantic relationship with someone else during that period, it would be considered treason and be punishable by death.

"But... they only met 3 days ago!" You frowned- it didn't make sense.

"3 days is enough to fall in love," San's tone was serious, "And you know how they clicked right away. Don't tell me you didn't know about Arin's preferences."

"She never talked to me about that," you put a hand on your head, trying to make sense of everything, "I don't know why, but... San, she was serious about this Selection. She was practically in love with Hongjoong."

"She only knew Hongjoong from afar, she was a fan. Her heart could have changed with or without Miyeon being here."

"But... this doesn't make sense, I need a minute to think," you stared at the pond as you thought about it- how Arin hadn't been too excited these days. How she hadn't seem disappointed when she had discovered that Hongjoong had kissed the other girls. How she wasn't even waiting for a date anymore, too busy since Miyeon came.

"I know it must be hard to digest- I was surprised too. This is a first for Miyeon too."

"Really?" You looked at him and he nodded, "I guess... whatever makes them happy. That means Arin would have to get dismissed from the Selection without anyone knowing what was going on. Shouldn't they be more careful?"

"It's not like they're doing anything right now," San chuckled, "It's just them finding themselves right now. They decided to wait- Arin is gonna go on with the Selection and see what she really wants. Miyeon would spend time away from her- maybe everything will change. Maybe it's just the heat of the moment. We should give them time and space to think."

"I'm kinda hurt that Arin hasn't told me anything yet," you admitted, "Miyeon told you everything?"

"She really wanted to think this through. So much could go wrong, even for her. She's a Princess. There's much to consider."

You shook your head, "Everything is so messed up."

"But it's beautifully messed up," San smiled.

And two days later, it was time for an elimination.

You wondered if Hongjoong would dismiss Arin- he had gone on another date with her last night, but not much had happened- the two had walked, you following beside, and he'd just asked Arin about her hobbies, her life before Selection, getting to know her.

If Arin was dismissed today, you'd be going home along with her. There were more girls who were confident that they'd stay today than girls who weren't.

Hongjoong entered after breakfast, scanning the girls once, his eyes falling on you for a second longer before he drew away. "Ladies, I hoped you slept well last night. Today is the inevitable elimination- only 8 of you will be staying."

The girls gasped- they hadn't expected it to cut to half already. "I'll be announcing those who are staying now."

He started calling the names- and Arin squeezed your hand out of nervousness, you squeezing back as you heard the satisfied gasps and the sobs that rang through the room.

The last name he called was Arin's- and you looked at him in surprise, finding him looking at you instead of Arin. Arin only sighed, slumping in her seat.

"I'm sorry to all those who were dismissed- I hope you live a happier, healthier life from this point on. If you have anything you want to say or ask, you can meet me in the Men's Room."

With that, he took off, leaving the 8 eliminated girls sobbing, and you couldn't help but sigh in relief- wondering what your sigh meant. Were you happy for Arin or relieved that you weren't going home?

That night, you went to the garden, not surprised when Hongjoong arrived an hour later, sighing when he saw you, sitting down with you on the bench.

"You've been busy," you smiled.

"I really wanted to talk to all of them once more before the elimination, just to be sure," he said.

"And? Feeling any sparks yet?"

"Not really," he looked down, the silver tendrils of his hair falling down on his forehead, and you admired his side profile- he really had the most unique nose you'd seen on a person- "I don't know what to do anymore."

"What do you mean?" You frowned as he looked at you, his eyes full of worry.

"In the next elimination I'm supposed to cut this down to 3. I don't think I like anyone more than the others- I really don't feel anything for them. This Selection was a bad idea- the rebels won't calm down just because I get married. They've tried attacking again, two days ago, but they couldn't enter. I don't want to end up choosing someone because she's someone's favourite- the king's, or the queen's, or the people's. I don't want to live with someone I don't love."

"I understand, Hongjoong," you put a hand on his back, "It's hard, I get it. But... I don't think you can back out of this now. You're a Prince, Hongjoong. There are so many people looking forward to this, waiting for your decision-"

"I didn't expect you to say that- you really don't understand," Hongjoong shook his head in frustration, "I think... I don't think I like any of the Selected. I like you. I want you, not them. They don't know me like you do- and I don't feel comfortable with them like I do with you."

You almost sobbed- your heart absolutely ached at his words. "Hongjoong, this isn't about us, please. I shouldn't even have been here. If I wasn't here, you would have proceeded normally with the Selection and found someone you actually liked- you probably only like me because I'm not one of them-"

"No. I like you because you're you. If you were in the Selection, I would have chosen you. If you were one of the Selected... I would have ended it today."

"Hongjoong, think again- you're the Prince. You can't be selfish-"

"Just tell me- tell me you like me too. If you do, nothing else matters," he locked his eyes with you, pain evident in them as he waited expectantly for an answer, his hand on top of yours squeezing it unconsciously.

You wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in the moment, but you had to be rational, "Hongjoong, this really isn't about you and me. This is about the future Princess, who one day will be Queen. Who'll share the burden of your kingdom. I can only be your friend- I don't think I can be more."

Hongjoong's face fell, and he sighed as he looked at the sky, his hand still on yours. "Would it have been different if you had entered the Selection? Or if... if I wasn't the Prince?"

"I don't know. But Hongjoong... we've only kissed once. Please forget about that and focus on what's important. It was just in the heat of the moment, okay? You're confused- all this pressure with the Selection is making you look at me. Maybe we shouldn't even hang out anymore-"

"No- that would make it worse, I know that," he finally took his hand off yours, "Just tell me one thing. Promise me you won't lie."

You narrowed your eyes at him but his eyes were firm- he was serious. "Okay."

"No lies. Just a plain answer. A yes or no. I promise to go back to the Selection, I'll properly think this through, I promise, just don't lie."

"Okay," you laughed nervously, "What is it?"

"When we kissed... you felt something, didn't you? You still do, and you did before we kissed. Is that right?"

You scanned his face- his eyes were holding your gaze as if he could tell if you would lie. You pursed your lips, wondering how you should say it-

"Your silence says enough," a slow smile creeped up his face, "You don't need to say it. It's plain as day on your face."

"You could be imagining it, you know. You could be wrong."

Hongjoong looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear as he patted your cheek. "I don't think I'm wrong about this, dear."

-----------------

As promised, Hongjoong spent more time with the girls, going on dates and actually talking to them and getting to know the 8. Arin had another date where the two played table tennis, and you only sat back and watched, because god, you sucked at table tennis and you'd only make a scene if you tried.

After that date, Arin told you she wanted to sleep in your room tonight, and you internally smirked, wondering if she was finally going to tell you everything.

"I really don't like Hongjoong that way," she finally admitted, "And I'm sure Hongjoong doesn't like me either."

You pursed your lips, and she narrowed her eyes, "Did you suspect that already?"

"Of course I did, I'm your best friend, Arin. I saw how your interest in him kept going downfall."

"I don't even know why he decided to keep me. Perhaps he wanted to give me a chance because of the language barrier. Anyways, I'm not wife material- I can't do this. I'll just wait for the next elimination."

"Is your heart somewhere else, Miss?" You tested the waters, watching Arin's cheeks go red- it always gave her away.

"Actually, it is," she admitted, and you gasped dramatically, putting a hand over your mouth, "I'll tell you once I'm out- I want to properly introduce her to you."

"Her?" You wriggled your brows, and it was her turn to gasp, "You know?"

"San may have told me."

"San?" Arin wriggled her brows, but you laughed and shook it off, "Nothing as juicy as your story, Arin. It's best we don't talk about it here. Let's just wait to go home."

"Should I, I don't know, disappoint Hongjoong and speed it up?"

"No!" You slapped Arin's arm, "Poor guy already has it tough!"

The two of you burst into giggles, but almost screamed when the door opened loudly and a guard stepped inside.

"Rebels are inside- please follow me," he went to the right corner of the room, clicking behind a frame and opening a doorway, "Inside, now. Follow the tunnel and you'll find yourself in the room with the King and Queen and the rest of the girls."

You felt your heart sink, wondering if Hongjoong was safe, and you and Arin made your way down the dark tunnel, you leading the way, one hand in Arin's and the other feeling the tunnel out, following the dim light until it grew and you were in the large hall with the Queen huddled beside the King, only 3 girls inside so far, trembling with fear, and Arin joined them, comforting them as best as she could.

You asked one of the guards about the Prince's whereabouts and he told you he was making sure the girls were coming here before he would join, and you felt your heart fill with pride- he was really out there making sure everyone of them was safe.

It took another very long 15 minutes until one by one the girls came, Hongjoong coming in last. Some of the girls were shaken so bad that they seemed numb. Hongjoong stood beside you, staring at them as he caught his breath.

"It was an ugly fight out there- these girls witnessed it. They want to go home as soon as this is over."

"Oh," you bit your lip, "What do the rebels want, Hongjoong?"

"They probably want to overthrow us, like every other rebel in every other country. They are not ready to accept that Wonderers and Utopians could be one."

The Queen called Hongjoong over, and Hongjoong looked at you, "Come over- I should introduce you to mom and dad."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. Now is the time they miss them the most."

He took you to them, and you awkwardly stood and bowed as Hongjoong told them whose daughter you were. The King smiled, saying the resemblance was uncanny, and the Queen smiled warmly at you as well, "I miss Mira the most these days. She would have had so much fun with the Selection."

"It's an honour to me that you remember my parents," you said, and they laughed as they shook a hand in dismissal.

"Your father was a fine man," the King smiled, "His sacrifice means a lot to us. We miss the two dearly, and you... You are welcome in this Palace anytime. I heard how you and my son are friends now."

You looked at Hongjoong and he grinned, "Mom was making fun of me, saying I finally made the friend that I should have made some 20 years ago."

You laughed, shaking your head as you went back to where Arin was sitting, and she put her hands on her hips.

"You, miss, have something going on with Hongjoong."

"I have nothing," you said, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Have you seen the way he looks at you? He's never looked at one of us this way," she said, referring to the Selected, "I say you've won his heart."

"Shut up, Arin, he's the Prince. I'm no one. I'm only his friend, that's it."

"Whatever you say, I can't hear this bullshit. You're both either blind as hell or stupid as fuck."

"Arin!" You widened your eyes at her language, "Etiquettes!"

She only grinned, silly dancing and you wished you could wipe that smug look off her face. But she had caught you red-handed. and you couldn't deny it now, it was too late.

You watched Hongjoong comfort the girls one by one. He really was better off with one of them, not you. You weren't princess material. You were only... you. Simple you who was only good at translating and being a friend. You couldn't allow yourself to hope, you couldn't mess everything- the whole kingdom was hanging on the Selection and who the future princess would be. You didn't want to create a mess.

You couldn't allow yourself the luxury of thinking that you could be Hongjoong's, because really, before anything else... He was too good for you. You didn't deserve him.

By the next night, 4 girls had gone home, leaving only 4- Arin, Kahi, Nayoung and Sohee. Sophie had announced that Hongjoong would make his decision and propose his choice on the live broadcast in a week from now, and now that the end was real, you found yourself more anxious than ever, and as you were making your way back to your room, you almost bumped into Hongjoong.

"Whoa, careful there," he looked at you, frowning when he saw your face etched with worry, "Something wrong?"

"No, just tired," you shrugged it off, and Hongjoong scanned your face.

"You wanna hang out tonight? Help the poor Prince relieve some stress?"

"Sure, poor Prince," you grinned, going to your room.

Before you could go down to the garden though, you heard a knock. You were still in your navy blue suit, your tie a bit loose, and you thought it was Arin coming to ask you something, but when you opened the door-

It was Hongjoong.

He scanned your figure rather slowly, taking in the loose messy hair and tie, and god, he would never get tired of seeing you in suits.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your heart sinking at the way he was looking at you.

"I just thought I'd come by and surprise you," he laughed, "and you're very surprised."

"I am," you laughed a little, allowing him to enter, "What's up?"

"I just had a meeting with everyone regarding the Selection, he slumped on your couch and you sat beside him, shifting so you faced him, "They think Kahi might be the better choice."

"Thought so," you muttered, and he laughed at the annoyance in your tone, "She's the obvious choice. Do you like her?"

"Honestly? She's okay. Tolerable. She just goes along with whatever I say. She doesn't fight back, just accepts whatever I say or give. I think she just wants to end up with me because of her strong family connection and because she could be a 'Princess'."

"Ah, here for the title, and to please you while she bathes in the royal treasure," you giggled, "Somehow, I can picture that."

"Right! I can too," he scoffed.

"But that's what everyone thinks- what do you think?"

Hongjoong bit his lips, folding his hands, "I... I don't know. Not Kahi. Not Nayooung. Not Sohee and not Arin either. I mean, I could pick anyone, but I don't think I'll ever truly be myself with them."

"That's... maybe you will, Hongjoong. It might take some time, but eventually, you'll be comfortable with them. You'll find the happiness you deserve, Hongjoong."

"I think I don't deserve happiness," he sighed, turning to look at you, "Maybe I'm damned. I don't know why I'm going through this- mom and dad had a chance and they fell in love. They didn't need a damned Selection. Why am I going through this?"

You frowned, "What's really bothering you, Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong gazed at you for a few seconds before turning as if he was in pain, "It's useless to say it out loud."

You sighed, figuring you'd give him some time to sort his thoughts out, getting up and opening your drawer, smiling at the photo before you sat back down. "You might wanna see this."

Hongjoong scooted nearer, taking the photo and frowning before bursting out in a fit of laughter, "I look like a wimp, and you look worse!"

You laughed, "I definitely look better than you. This might be the most un-princely photo of you that exists- we should frame it and hang it in the Great Hall."

"I remember this," Hongjoong smiled at the photo, "Your dad actually slapped my head and told me to act like a Prince because he wanted me to impress you- but we both ended up like this. You got an earful from your mom too, didn't you?"

"She made me do this, I didn't want to," you scoffed.

"I miss being little," Hongjoong sighed, "When I had nothing to worry about. My only worry was not being caught staring at you kids from the windows."

"You should have joined," your smile was sad as you two looked at each other.

"Don't you think we were meant to meet each other and be friends, sit here together like this?" Hongjoong's voice was low as he scanned your face, "When I'm here, with you, I feel... like Hongjoong. Not the Prince that has to put up and act."

"Should I be honoured?" You teased, but he only smiled, holding your hand.

"I'm only myself when I'm with you," he caressed your hand and you felt your stomach swoop, "I really wish I could call you mine."

You wanted to take your hand away- that was what had to be the rational thing to do, but the way he was gazing at your joined hands with his eyes full of sadness... it made you pause. He looked at you, "Have you ever wanted something or someone so much that you felt like you were nothing without it? That if you didn't get it, you'd just be an empty shell for the rest of your life?"

"Chocolate?" You shrugged, Hongjoong almost wheezing as he laughed, shaking his head, mumbling something about how you ruined the moment, but you squeezed his hand.

"I don't know, Hongjoong, but I... I think it'll be too late before I realize that I let go of the thing I wanted."

His eyes flickered with hope, "It doesn't have to be that way. If you have a chance, don't you think you should take it?"

"You know... I thought about it, Hongjoong. I wondered what it would be like to be with you," you said, making his heart sink as you looked at your joined hands, caressing his hand, "I wondered if I could really do this. If I could call you mine and sit with you like this every night," you looked at him, taking your hand away only to caress his face, "If we could talk like friends yet... be more. But Hongjoong, I'm not one of the Selected, and you can only select one of them. It's for the better."

"How is it better for me," he leaned in to your touch, "if I won't ever have something like this with someone else?"

Your smile was sad and unconvincing, and Hongjoong leaned closer, already out of breath by you words, "I'd break the rules for you. I'd accept any sort of punishment. I'd lose my title if it meant that I'd get to be with you- with you, who I love with all of my heart, because you're the one that I want."

You cupped Hongjoong's face in your hands, "I know. I know you'd do that for me. I know you love me, Hongjoong, and I... I love you too." You gave yourself a moment to scan Hongjoong's face who couldn't have looked more relieved, "But you're a Prince. You have a whole kingdom to look after. Every subject of yours is waiting for an opportunity for you to slip, to make a mistake, so they can use that excuse and destroy your kingdom. You understand that, don't you?"

Hongjoong hesitated before nodding, taking your hands away from his face, holding them as he looked down and thought about it. "It's cruel that you told me you love me only to let me go."

"I'm sorry for that," your eyes teared, "We're not meant to be."

When Hongjoong leaned in to kiss you, you didn't stop him, tears rolling down your cheeks as he kissed you softly, his hands holding your face as if it was fragile, and when he drew back, his own eyes were glazed as he wiped your eyes.

"I only have one week," he began, "please don't let me be alone for this week. I don't want to let go of you without knowing what it could be like if you were mine."

You shook your head but he squeezed your hand as if telling you that it was alright, "One week, that's all I ask. Forget about everything else, forget about the stupid Selection and the fact that I'm a Prince. Just be mine for this week, please."

"And you'll let me go? After one week?" You looked at him, and he nodded.

"If that's what you want."

You leaned in to hug him- your answer. You sat in his arms for a few minutes, holding him as if someone would snatch him away from you if you let him go. "One condition."

"What?" He was caressing your hair.

"Please don't contact me after the Selection is over. I won't want you to be unfaithful to your wife because of me. And... I'd need time but I'll move on too. But please... don't contact me, Hongjoong."

He held you tighter, his heart screaming against this but he nodded, and you sighed.

Tonight was all about sweet lies anyway.

He held you for a few minutes longer, then kissed your forehead and told you that he'd be back tomorrow, that he'd be wasting no moment from now on and that he'd like it if the two of you weren't so sad every time you met, and you laughed, promising him and yourself that you'd make the most of this one week.

But tonight, you'd cry. You didn't know how long you sat on your couch and cried silently until Arin slipped inside your room, gasping in surprise and sitting beside you asking what was wrong and you cried your heart out for the first time in Arin's arms, and she shushed you as she held you and comforted you.

"You should tell me what happened before I pass away out of worry," she frowned.

You told her then. You told her that you hadn't meant for this to happen, that you two were just friends- until you two were so comfortable with each other and realized it must be love. Though Arin was listening somberly at first, she was nearly laughing by the end of this.

"I fucking knew it!" She clapped, and you resisted the urge to choke her, "I knew the way Hongjoong looked at you was different! He's smitten by you, and you were blind!"

"Arin, I'm trying hard not to cry again, you're making this worse," you said but ended up laughing because she was too excited.

"I say fuck the Selection! Fuck this kingdom! He should choose you-" Arin was interrupted by you putting a hand over her mouth and telling her to tone it down before anyone heard and got you two kicked out.

"I'm serious, though," Arin insisted, "Hongjoong like you, you like him. Simple. Who cares about the Selection? He should marry you. He should put himself first. What has this Kingdom given him anyway? A damned burden! If the people really cared about their Prince, they'd let him marry whoever he wants."

"It's too complicated, Arin, you don't understand," you said, shaking your head, "If it was as easy, I wouldn't have been sitting here crying."

Arin bit her lip, thinking. She really wanted to lift your spirits, which was why she kept joking around, knowing you always gave in after a while of wanting to kill her. "Well, at least I'm able to joke because I'm not involved in this. Can't you see? It was meant to be. Me meeting Miyeon, deciding Hongjoong wasn't for me- I know if that hadn't happened, you wouldn't have even looked at Hongjoong that way- or allowed this."

"Maybe Miyeon shouldn't have come. You would be getting selected next week then."

"Come on, that's not the point," Arin waved a hand, "Just... forget about everything else and make most of this week. We'll figure something out."

"There's no figuring this out," you sighed, "I've just prepared myself for the biggest heartbreak of my life."

------------------

It was both painful and lovely to be with Hongjoong- a brush of your hands as you bumped into each other in the hallway, stolen kisses in secret, winks sent across the room- really, you two were making it obvious. But since Arin was with you most of the times, the remaining girls thought it was Arin who was getting this special treatment, and they were upset because of that.

But you couldn't care less. You had one week, and you wouldn't let anyone come in between that.

In the days, Hongjoong was mostly busy, making sure he spent some time with the girls too so that no one would suspect. Each night, Hongjoong and you would walk in the gardens, hands brushing playfully as you talked just like usual. And two nights later, Hongjoong led you to a secret room in the palace through the tunnels.

"I'm pretty sure no one knows of this room," he told you as he lit the candles, "I used to explore the secret passages, leave a string of thread along."

"Hongjoong!" You gasped, "You could have gotten lost! How careless could you be? Imagine if someone found your bones here after years of searching-"

"Well, I'm here," he blew the matchstick away, turning to you, "And I need you to shut up for a bit."

You rolled your eyes as he wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you in for a lazy kiss, your arms automatically going to his chest.

"I could never get tired of this," Hongjoong mumbled, tracing his nose along your cheeks as he breathed, "I could do this all day and all night."

"Shut up," you slapped his chest lightly, suddenly feeling shy and Hongjoong grinned at that, kissing your cheek and trailing his lips down to your neck, and you gladly let him take control. He was taking his sweet time, rocking you back and forth as he played with your neck. When he drew up, he smiled as he scanned your face. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," you shrugged, but he brought you closer, tucking your hair behind your ears as he whined, making you roll your eyes, "Thinking about how it started."

"Hmm," Hongjoong brought you to the couch, making you sit in his lap as he played with your hair, "Totally unexpected?"

"Totally," you laughed, "I was... so happy for Arin. She really, really was in love with you, Hongjoong- or so she thought."

"I think her situation is more surprising than ours," Hongjoong shook his head, "But I have to thank her for not being in love with me."

You laughed at that, "It would have been a mess if she was still in the game." You had told Hongjoong about Arin's situation, and he had suggested that she wait until the Selection was over and lay low for a good few months before going to Miyeon or anyone else for that matter since all eyes would be on the last few candidates for a good while. "But you know what? I think I would have fallen for you anyway. I think it wasn't because of Arin being involved or not."

"Ah," Hongjoong grinned, "Is that so?"

"I really wanted to meet you, you know. And when you caught me the first night in the gardens- I think that's how everything changed, no?"

Hongjoong's smile was sad this time, and you kissed him, "We promised not to be sad anymore."

"I can't help it," he cupped your face, "How will I be able to let you go after this? How will I ever be okay after knowing what it feels like to be in love and letting it go? What kind of a prince I am if I can't even choose my princess?"

You ran your hand through his hair lovingly, caressing his cheekbone, "I feel like this is enough- if I ask for more, I'll be selfish. The fact that we are here now... that's a blessing in itself. I can't be selfish with you, Hongjoong."

The two of you stared at each other for the longest time as if memorizing each other, tracing each other's face, and you spent hours just talking about this or that or kissing each other or teasing- it was just so natural. And throughout the night, Hongjoong held you close, making you lose your mind as he kissed you like it was his last time- and it very well might have been. Each passing night of this short week had you two getting more desperate to be with each other and feel each other, skin on skin had nothing on you.

And each passing day made you weaker inside- you really had grown used to the palace and everyday life here and most importantly, Hongjoong. You promised not to be sad in front of Hongjoong but whenever you were alone (mostly Arin there to hold you), you were crying. Sometimes it was silent tears rolling down your face, sometimes hysteric crying- even Momo, Mina and Sana were worried for you, though they were kind enough not to intrude on your privacy and ask.

It was your last night here- the last time you'd be in Hongjoong's arms. Everything was going to change tomorrow.

You sat waiting for Hongjoong in your room, staring at the moon through the window, barely holding it all in. You were afraid you were gonna break down when you saw Hongjoong.

But when the knock sounded, you immediately knew it was not Hongjoong. And when you opened the door, your jaw almost dropped as you bowed.

"Your Majesty- you could have called for me."

The Queen patted your cheek- she was in a very casual attire, as if she had just decided to come to your room. You had a billion thoughts in your head but only one question- what the hell was going on?

"Please, do sit and be comfortable," the Queen said, "I wanted to see you and have a little talk."

You scanned her face- she was smiling as if she knew something. She laughed at your expressions and began, "I know you must be confused. But I had to see the reason why my son was waking up with puffy eyes these days."

She knew.

"Your Majesty- I... I'm sorry-"

"Oh no," the Queen waved a hand in dismissal, "I'm not here to scold you, dear. Hongjoong doesn't know of this, neither did he say anything, but he's my dear son, and I could see something was weighing him down. It looked like he had lost a war."

You bit your lips, "How did you know then?"

The Queen laughed, "I knew you were friends, dear. But I also saw the way he looked at you- and the way you looked at him. Now what kind of a mother would I be if I couldn't recognize the look in my son's eyes? Your King looks at me the same."

You smiled at that, "So... I don't know what to do, I... I told Hongjoong to go on with the Selection. I told him that his kingdom is more important and that he has to consider his subjects before he makes a hasty decision. And he'll go on with this decision. I'll be here no more tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, dear," the Queen's face was sad, "if it were anyone else, maybe I wouldn't have understood. But since it's you... I can see why Hongjoong loves you, dear. Your mother and father were great people. They've taken our secrets to the graves. But they were also our friends, and me and my husband had love for them as a friend would. They cherished you, their only child. I'm sure they would be so proud of you if they were alive today."

You wiped your eyes and the Queen got up, putting a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "Sometimes, the future has things stored for us that we do not expect. Do not be sad. You are my pick, honey. And tomorrow... stay, until the announcement. I have to give you something."

You nodded, surprised at her words but also confused at how cryptic she was being. She patted your cheek and left the room, and only a few minutes had passed, you still thinking about the Queen when Hongjoong knocked and entered, and you instantly knew that he had no knowledge of the Queen's visit.

You got up, going to his arms and silently hugging him. There were no tears left to cry now. It was only silence- comfortable sad silence surrounding you two as you hugged for the longest time.

"Can I hold you tonight?" Hongjoong drew back a bit, caressing your face, and you saw it then- his eyes, as puffy and red as yours. Anyone would have known, really.

You nodded and he led you to the bed, taking his jacket off and sliding inside the covers, spreading them over you both as you lay half seated in each other's arms, your head on his chest hearing his heart in sync with yours, his arm around you as he played with your hair- a habit of his.

"You're quiet today," you muttered, looking up at him- laughing a bit when you saw him pouting.

"I don't feel like talking tonight," he pouted again, "I'll listen tonight if you want to do the talking."

"Hmm," you shifted, "not even silly retorts or dad jokes?"

"I'll try to hold them back," he finally laughed, and you kissed him slowly, smiling into it.

"Let's not be sad tonight, Hongjoong," you kissed his cheek, "I don't want the last thing I remember of you to be your swollen eyes."

"I think that's quite a pretty sight to remember," he grinned and you shook your head, kissing him when he nodded, his hand going behind your neck as the kisses got more desperate and picked speed, losing all composure and calm because really, you were kissing like this because it was your last time.

You let Hongjoong cry as he kissed you, and you only realized your face was wet with your own tears when he wiped them away, never breaking apart. You both were smiling into the kiss anyway. And when Hongjoong and you lay in each other's arms, Hongjoong muttered something in your ear repeatedly that had you smiling like a kid.

"Can you stop calling me your princess?" You cringed back, his breath making you tickle and laugh way too hard, "It's getting annoying!"

"But you are the queen of my heart," Hongjoong mumbled it in your ear on purpose, making you giggle and slap his bare shoulders. "Ah, you're getting naughty."

"I'm not! You're making me- hey!" You were interrupted as he turned so he was on top of you, his eyes now dark and changed, making your stomach flutter dangerously.

"You wanna do that again?" He challenged, smirking.

"Do what- this?" You slapped his arm, acting innocent, and he laughed out loud at your antics, pinching your cheek because you were being way too cute, and then kissing you.

"You don't let me breathe, woman," he muttered, falling back on bed and bringing you closer.

You trailed your finger down his chest suggestively, "Don't you like this? Should I let you breathe once in a while?"

He shook his head- he'd had enough of you. He held your face as he muttered something in your ear that made you go red and your knees go weak. And then he acted upon it, making love to you, the two of you trying to push the thought that this was your last night together but it leaked in to your actions as he kissed you desperately, as you ran your hands all over his body like you were deprived of his touch, as you held each other throughout the night.

------------------

The two of you slept in each other's arms, though when you woke up, his absence hit you so hard that you were screaming into your pillow. You had never felt so alone.

Gathering yourself for an act for the last time, you washed your face and let the girls do your makeup, Arin watching you sadly. You put on the deep red suit that Hongjoong loved so much, wondering if you would ever be able to wear suits again since it would be a constant reminder of your short time here.

You only drank coffee to keep you going, waiting in the Women's Room for the staff to call you to the broadcasting room where Hongjoong would announce his wife- the future princess of Wonderland. You suddenly felt nauseous- you couldn't watch that.

You wouldn't be able to.

You told Arin, and she understood, hugging you once, nice and good, but when she drew back, she was smiling.

"I am so proud of you," she patted your cheeks, "You'll get through this."

The ladies were escorted to the broadcast room, and you stayed behind, surprised beyond anything again when the Queen arrived, this time with Hongjoong.

"I told you I'd be back with something," the Queen smiled, and you looked at Hongjoong- even he was confused. She took off her wedding ring and handed it to Hongjoong- "Your decision, my son. It's time you think for yourself, as Hongjoong. Leave the kingdom to us."

You gaped at them, Hongjoong equally surprised, "But- father-"

"Your father is okay with this and he would have been here with me but he's handling the broadcast right now," she patted his back, "Go on, we don't have all day. If she is your happiness, then choose her. I don't want you to have regrets, son, and I don't want you to hate your parents who made you go with this Selection when they themselves didn't."

Hongjoong looked at you, then back at his mother, then finally smiled the most happy smile you'd seen on him so far, "You know, I had a ring of my own today. You beat me to it, mother."

You had to look away as you laughed and pinched your nose because Hongjoong pulled out his own ring, "I was going to go on with this anyway- I was going to tell you before you dragged me here, mother, you nearly gave me a heart attack! You should have warned me!"

"You should have warned me!" The Queen laughed, "Can you imagine the chaos if I hadn't made the connection and taken care of everything beforehand!"

"Unbelievable," you muttered, laughing through your tears, "Your Majesty... are you sure I deserve this?"

"My dear, you deserve to be Hongjoong's wife. The Princess thing- anyone can learn that, but I think the only person who could ever truly make him happy is you. Look at him smiling like an idiot- I have never seen him smile like that, and I am his mother!"

You nearly fell with relief, shaking your head in disbelief as Hongjoong stood in front of you, the Queen leaving you two. "So... can we stop crying and start being happy now?"

You laughed, shaking your head again as Hongjoong hugged you, sighing into it, "I told you last night. That you are meant to be my princess."

"Did you already have this planned out?" You looked at him, and he shook his head.

"All I did the whole week during my spare time was research over the past Selection laws, find a loophole, anything. But then mother came today and said that some laws needed to change anyway, so I better not disappoint her with my choice- you know you are her pick after all."

"I suddenly feel like I was one of the Selected all along," you groaned, "What about the girls?"

"Mom will break it to them. But enough about them-" Hongjoong drew back, taking out the two rings, "Which one are you gonna choose, Princess?"

You rolled your eyes, pretending to consider before putting both hands in the air, and Hongjoong slid his mother's ring on your right hand and his own in your left hand, kissing your knuckles before looking at you, and holding your face, kissing your lips so gently it felt like it was your first kiss, not quite able to draw back right away.

You only had a moment to yourself before Arin, not so ceremoniously, ran inside, squealing excitedly and hugging you and Hongjoong altogether, crying from happiness, saying she had 'too much of your sad ass' and scolding Hongjoong for not coming up with this earlier, which, even though you did not translate, he understood very well, apologizing as he laughed.

The staff called Hongjoong for the official announcement and he squeezed your hand, nudging you to come along. Arin took off her diamond studded hairpin, clipping it to your hair.

"Go show them who's the real queen."

You put your arm in Hongjoong's, walking proudly for the first time in your life.

Minho - Hybrid AU!

part II

“one, two, three, four!” Minho was clapping his hands to mark the rhythm as the cheerleaders practice their moves

“again! and pay attention to the twist this time, Chaewon!” you rolled your eyes just hearing her name

Chaewon was a light brown Mini Lop bunny hybrid and a pain in the neck ever since she was transferred to your school last semester

she got extremely attached to Minho because he’s also a Mini Lop hybrid, but a black one

and she was always around, always trying to get his attention, always doing him favors, always looking for an excuse to be touchy with him, always annoying the life out of you

and you hated her

she was pretty, she had gorgeous hair, big bunny eyes and a cute smile, she was so nice and so docile, the perfect bunny hybrid

and you really hated her because you, a lynx hybrid, were none of those things

your facial features were more intimidating, your feline eyes always keen on everything surrounding you, your ears twitching to sounds far away, your reflexes faster than average, your tongue ready to snap at anyone who crosses you the wrong way…

you would never reach Chaewon’s level of perfect

and it wrecks you inside because you know that eventually Minho will choose her and leave you behind

it’s only the natural option since you’re a predator and they’re both preys

predators never end up with preys, everyone knows it

why would a Mini Lop bunny be with a freaking lynx? Lynx eat rabbits for breakfast, lunch and dinner

it was bad enough that Minho was your best friend, it shocked the entire school when you both started hanging out

it took them almost a year to get over the fact that you both were indeed friends with each other

but there’s still some people who think it’s weird

Chaewon is one of them

she never said anything in front of you because you know she’s scared to death of you, maybe because you’re always angry around her and your angry face is not really friendly

but you don’t care because you’re constantly hearing her say hurtful things about you to her friends

saying that you’re probably coercing Minho to be your friend, that you have eerie eyes and a chilling presence, that the only time she saw you laughing was horrifying and she had nightmares because of it, that she doesn’t understand why you don’t let Minho alone, that she’s a better choice for him since they have so much in common, etc etc etc

she’s not completely wrong, though, but it still hurts hearing her say that Minho will probably “wake up and run away from your predator trap”

you shouldn’t have a crush on him, it’s wrong

but your heart is stupid and does stupid things, like falling in love with Minho

Keep reading

Little ghaseball copia bc I’m still not over him 💖🖤

Changing the Game

platonic!Fernando Alonso x mentee!Reader

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: motorsport can be cruel, especially for young women aspiring to make it to Formula 1, but when Fernando notices a driver who deserves more than the unjust cards fate handed her, he decides to do something about it … and your life will never be the same

The roar of engines fills the air, blending with the faint scent of gasoline that clings to the paddock like a memory. Fernando walks through the chaos of the Formula 3 circuit, hands in his pockets, sunglasses firmly in place.

His presence is a subtle disruption, not loud, but noticeable. Drivers and engineers glance his way, some nodding in respect, others too focused on their tasks to do more than acknowledge him with a brief flicker of recognition.

He’s been watching the race, the sun high overhead, a burning reminder that summer has a way of dragging things out. Yet, time has felt elastic today, stretched out by the tension of the track and the surprising twist that caught his attention.

A young driver — no, more than just young — barely seventeen, the only female on the grid, had sliced through the competition with precision and ferocity. Her car, marked by the number on the side, had danced on the edge of control, flirting with danger at every turn but never losing its rhythm. When the chequered flag waved, she’d crossed the line in a solid third, inches from second, and not far from the top spot.

He’d seen talent before, of course. It’s part of his world, spotting it, nurturing it, sometimes crushing it under the weight of competition. But something about you caught his eye. There’s a sharpness in your driving, a clarity of purpose that’s rare. He wonders where you’ve been hiding.

As the cars pull into the pit lane, the usual bustle takes over. Engineers swarm around their drivers, debriefs start, and helmets are tugged off with a mix of relief and frustration. Fernando watches from a distance, scanning the crowd until he finds you. You’re standing by your car, tugging at your gloves with a sharp motion, frustration etched in the tightness of your jaw. There’s a fleeting moment where you pull off your helmet, shaking out your hair, and Fernando notices the absence of something.

Sponsors.

Your race suit is practically bare. The car too, minimal branding, the kind that signals a driver struggling to make ends meet rather than one who’s just claimed a podium finish. He frowns, tilting his head slightly as he watches you. It doesn’t make sense. A driver that good should be swimming in offers, drowning in endorsements.

He catches the eye of a paddock official nearby, someone he’s vaguely familiar with — one of those types who always seem to know more than they let on. Fernando strides over, casual but direct. The official straightens up, clearly surprised to have Fernando Alonso approaching.

“Who’s the girl?” Fernando asks, nodding in your direction, though he doesn’t really need to. You’re the only one who fits the description.

The official glances your way, then back at Fernando. “Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been turning heads all season.”

“Not enough, apparently.” Fernando gestures vaguely at your race suit, his tone making it clear he’s talking about the lack of sponsorship. “What’s going on there?”

The official hesitates, glancing around as if to make sure no one’s listening. He lowers his voice slightly, a conspiratorial tone creeping in. “She’s good, real good. But, you know … she’s a girl.”

Fernando’s eyebrows shoot up, a sharp flash of irritation sparking in his eyes. “So?”

“So,” the official continues, shifting his weight uncomfortably, “sponsors and academies, they’re … cautious. Not sure if she’s got the staying power. And you know how it is, they’re more willing to take a risk on a kid who fits the mold.”

“The mold,” Fernando repeats, his voice flat, incredulous. He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly. It’s 2019, and this is still happening. It shouldn’t surprise him, but somehow, it does.

His gaze returns to you, still standing by your car, now deep in conversation with your race engineer. There’s a fierceness in the way you talk, the way you move your hands as if trying to will the universe to bend to your will. Fernando recognizes that fire — it’s the same one he’s carried in himself for years.

But there’s more than just frustration in your eyes. There’s something else — determination, maybe, but tinged with something darker, something that’s been carved out of too many disappointments. He knows that look too. It’s the one you get when you’re tired of proving yourself over and over, and yet, you keep doing it because there’s no other choice.

Fernando’s decision is made in an instant. He doesn’t overthink it; he never has. That’s not his style. He approaches you with the same casual confidence that’s defined his career, weaving through the bustle of the paddock until he’s close enough to catch the tail end of your conversation.

“... could’ve pushed harder into turn four,” you’re saying to your engineer, frustration coloring your voice. “But the grip just wasn’t there.”

Your engineer nods, making a note on his tablet, but before he can respond, Fernando steps into the space between you.

“Grip’s one thing,” he says, his voice cutting through the noise around you, “but timing’s everything.”

You turn, eyes widening just a fraction as you realize who’s standing there. Fernando catches the flicker of surprise that you quickly mask with a polite, if guarded, smile.

“Fernando Alonso,” you say, your voice a careful mix of respect and curiosity.

“In the flesh,” he replies, a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He glances at your car, then back at you. “Nice drive today.”

“Thanks.” The word comes out clipped, like you’re not entirely sure what to make of him yet. He can tell you’re used to being judged, sized up and dismissed by those who think they know better. But Fernando’s not here to judge.

“Third place,” he continues, as if he’s thinking out loud. “But you had the pace for second.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, and for the first time, a hint of a real smile breaks through. “Yeah, I did. But things don’t always go as planned.”

“No,” he agrees, “they don’t. But you’ve got talent. Real talent.”

You study him for a moment, your expression shifting from guarded to something more open, more curious. “Thanks,” you say again, but this time it’s softer, more genuine.

There’s a pause, the noise of the paddock fading slightly as you both stand there, sizing each other up. Fernando knows this is the moment where most people would make some kind of offer — advice, mentorship, maybe even a contract. But he’s never been one to do things by the book.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Do you like ice cream?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “What?”

“Ice cream,” he repeats, his tone light, almost teasing. “Do you like it?”

“Uh … yeah?” You sound more confused than anything, but there’s a hint of amusement creeping into your voice.

“Great,” Fernando says, as if that settles everything. He steps back, gesturing for you to follow him. “Let’s go get some. My treat.”

You stare at him for a moment, clearly trying to figure out if he’s serious. But when you see that he is, a slow smile spreads across your face, and you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Okay,” you say, still laughing a little as you start to walk beside him. “Why not?”

And just like that, the tension that had been hanging over the paddock seems to dissipate, replaced by something lighter, something that feels almost like hope.

***

The ice cream shop is a short walk from the circuit, tucked into a corner of the small town that’s hosting the weekend’s race. It’s the kind of place Fernando imagines has been around for decades, unchanged except for maybe a new coat of paint every few years. The neon sign in the window buzzes faintly, its pink light reflecting off the glass as he pushes the door open, holding it for you as you follow him inside.

The cool air is a welcome relief from the heat outside, carrying with it the sweet, unmistakable scent of sugar and cream. The shop is quiet, just a couple of kids sitting by the window, licking at cones that seem far too big for them. Behind the counter, a bored-looking teenager perks up as the door chimes, her gaze sharpening as she recognizes Fernando.

“Can I help you?” She asks, her voice brightening as she tries to act casual, though it’s clear she’s a little starstruck.

Fernando nods toward you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Ladies first.”

You hesitate for a moment, then step up to the counter, glancing at the array of ice cream flavors displayed behind the glass. The choices are written in chalk on a board above, but your eyes are immediately drawn to the rich, golden brown of the dulce de leche. You point to it, giving the girl behind the counter a quick smile.

“Two scoops of that, please,” you say, and then, after a beat, “with as many toppings as will fit.”

Fernando raises an eyebrow, amused as he watches you. The girl behind the counter doesn’t question it, scooping generous portions of the creamy ice cream into a cup before moving over to the toppings bar. You lean over the counter slightly, studying the options with a critical eye before making your selections — caramel drizzle, chocolate chips, a handful of crushed cookies, a sprinkle of nuts, and a final flourish of whipped cream on top.

When the girl hands you the cup, it’s practically overflowing, a masterpiece of indulgence that’s almost as impressive as your driving. You turn to Fernando, already reaching for your wallet.

“I can pay for mine,” you say quickly, but Fernando waves you off, already pulling out his own wallet.

“It’s on me,” he insists, his tone making it clear there’s no room for argument.

You open your mouth to protest, but the look he gives you stops you in your tracks. There’s something gentle in his eyes, an unexpected warmth that makes you pause. You let out a small sigh, putting your wallet away as you give in.

“Fine,” you mutter, though there’s no real annoyance in your voice. “But I’m getting you back for this.”

Fernando chuckles as he orders a simple vanilla cone for himself. “We’ll see about that.”

Once he’s paid, the two of you find a small table near the back of the shop, away from the kids and the counter. It’s quiet, almost private, with the hum of the freezers and the distant chatter of the other customers filling the silence. You sit across from him, carefully balancing your cup of ice cream as you take your first bite.

The first taste of dulce de leche is heavenly, the caramel sweetness melting on your tongue as the toppings add layers of texture and flavor. For a moment, it’s easy to forget about everything else — the race, the frustration, the uncertainty of it all. There’s just the ice cream, the coolness of it on your tongue, and the rare sensation of simply enjoying something without a care.

Fernando watches you with a faint smile, his own ice cream barely touched as he leans back in his chair. He doesn’t rush to fill the silence, letting you savor the moment before he finally speaks.

“So,” he says, breaking the quiet, “tell me about your situation.”

You glance up at him, the spoon pausing halfway to your mouth. There’s something in his tone, something gentle but probing, that tells you this isn’t just small talk. You lower the spoon, setting the cup down on the table as you consider how to respond.

“It’s … complicated,” you begin, though that word hardly covers it. You let out a small sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly as you lean back in your chair. “I mean, I’m doing everything I can on the track. My results speak for themselves, right? But it’s like … it’s like none of that matters.”

Fernando nods, encouraging you to continue. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just a quiet understanding, and that makes it easier to keep talking.

“Every race, I’m out there giving it everything I’ve got,” you say, your voice growing more animated as you go on. “I’m right up there with the best of them — sometimes even better. But then I look around, and I see these other drivers, guys who are barely scraping into the points, and they’ve got major sponsors backing them. They’re signed to F1 teams’ academies, they’ve got a clear path to the top. And me? I’ve got nothing. No sponsors, no academy, no security.”

You pick up your spoon again, stirring your ice cream absentmindedly as your frustration bubbles to the surface. “It’s not like I haven’t tried. My team’s tried too, but no one wants to take the risk on me. They all say the same thing — ‘You’re good, but we’re just not sure if you’re what we’re looking for.’ Which is just code for ‘You’re a girl, and we’re not willing to bet on you.’”

Fernando doesn’t interrupt, letting you vent. He’s heard stories like this before, but it never gets any easier to listen to. The sport has its issues, and while things have improved over the years, the barriers you’re facing are still all too real.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you shake your head. “It’s so frustrating, you know? I’m out there proving myself every single weekend, but it’s like I have to work twice as hard just to get noticed, and even then, it’s not enough. My parents — they believe in me, but they’re practically killing themselves to keep me racing. They had to take a second mortgage on the house just to get me into F3 this season. And every time I don’t get a sponsor, every time another academy passes on me, it’s like … it’s like I’m letting them down.”

Your voice cracks slightly at the end, and you quickly take another bite of ice cream, as if that can somehow keep your emotions in check. But Fernando sees the way your hand trembles just a little, the way your eyes have lost some of their fire, replaced by a weary resignation.

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I know the sport is tough, but it feels like I’m fighting a battle that’s rigged from the start.”

Fernando takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not fair,” he says, his voice steady, grounding. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be this hard. But sometimes, the fight isn’t just about winning on the track. It’s about changing the game entirely.”

You look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly as you try to gauge what he means by that. There’s something in his tone, something determined and unyielding, that makes you believe he understands more than he’s letting on.

“Changing the game?” You repeat, the words feeling heavy in your mouth.

Fernando nods, leaning forward slightly. “Yeah. Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. You’ve got the talent, you’ve got the drive, and you’ve got something most people don’t — resilience. You’re still here, still fighting, even when the odds are against you. That says a lot.”

You bite your lip, absorbing his words. There’s a part of you that wants to believe him, that wants to hold on to that hope, but there’s also a part that’s tired — so tired of fighting an uphill battle, of always having to prove yourself over and over again.

“I just don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough?”

Fernando’s gaze softens, and for a moment, he sees a reflection of his younger self in you, back when he was first starting out, hungry and determined but unsure of how far he could really go. The difference is, he had the backing, the opportunities that you’ve been denied.

“You are enough,” he says, his tone firm, leaving no room for doubt. “The problem isn’t with you. It’s with the system, with the people who are too scared to see things differently. But that doesn’t mean you stop. You keep pushing, keep showing them what they’re missing. And if they can’t see it, then we’ll make them see it.”

You blink, surprised by the intensity in his voice. There’s a conviction there that’s hard to ignore, a belief in you that you’ve been struggling to find in yourself.

“We?” You ask, your voice tinged with cautious hope.

Fernando smiles, a small, determined curve of his lips. “We. You’re not alone in this. I’ve been where you are, in a different way, but I know what it’s like to have to fight for everything. And I know what it’s like to have someone in your corner who believes in you.”

You stare at him, processing his words, the implications of what he’s offering. There’s a warmth in your chest, a spark of something that feels dangerously close to hope.

“So what now?” You ask, your voice steadier.

Fernando leans back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours as he takes a thoughtful bite of his ice cream. There's a moment of silence, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you, before he finally speaks, his voice calm but resolute.

"Now?" He sets his cone down on the table, his expression sharpening with purpose. "I make some calls."

***

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, and Fernando hasn’t been able to shake the conversation from his mind. He’s been in the sport long enough to know how things work, but hearing it from you, seeing how the system has worn you down despite your undeniable talent, it struck a nerve. It’s been a whirlwind of phone calls, favors cashed in, and quiet meetings behind closed doors. But now, standing at the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport, Fernando knows it’s all been worth it.

You come into view, wheeling your carry-on behind you, your eyes scanning the crowd until they land on him. A look of surprise crosses your face, quickly replaced by a hesitant smile as you make your way over.

“Hey,” you greet him, a mix of confusion and curiosity in your voice as you pull your suitcase to a stop beside him. “So … what’s this all about?”

Fernando just grins, taking the handle of your suitcase from you with a casualness that leaves no room for argument. “You’ll see,” he says, cryptic as ever. “Come on, the car’s this way.”

You follow him out to the parking garage, throwing him sideways glances, clearly trying to piece together what he’s up to. Fernando’s only response is an amused smile as he opens the door for you, waiting until you’re settled in the passenger seat before loading your luggage in the trunk.

As he pulls out of the airport and merges onto the highway, the silence between you is comfortable but charged with anticipation. You keep glancing over at him, your curiosity growing with every mile.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” You finally ask, your tone hovering between teasing and exasperation.

Fernando chuckles, shaking his head. “Nope.”

You sigh, leaning back in your seat, but there’s a glimmer of excitement in your eyes that wasn’t there before. “I’m trusting you, you know,” you say, half-joking, half-serious.

“And you won’t regret it,” he promises, the confidence in his voice almost contagious.

The drive is longer than you expected, taking you out of London and into the countryside. The scenery shifts from the urban sprawl to green fields and quaint villages, the roads becoming narrower and winding as they head deeper into the heart of England. It’s not until Fernando takes a turn down a private road, leading to a sleek, modern complex surrounded by high fences, that you begin to piece it together.

“This can’t be …” you start, your voice trailing off as the full realization hits you. “Is this-”

“Mercedes HQ,” Fernando confirms with a grin as he pulls up to the security gate. He rolls down the window, exchanging a few words with the guard, who quickly waves them through.

You’re silent as he drives into the parking lot, your eyes wide as you take in the sight of the Mercedes-AMG F1 Factory. It’s one thing to see it on TV or in photos, but to be here, in person, is something else entirely. Fernando parks the car and turns to you, catching the look on your face.

“Nervous?” He asks, though he already knows the answer.

“A little,” you admit, swallowing hard as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “Okay, a lot.”

He chuckles, getting out of the car and coming around to your side to open the door for you. “Don’t be. You belong here.”

You hesitate, still processing everything, before nodding and stepping out of the car. Fernando grabs your suitcase from the trunk, but you barely notice, too busy taking in your surroundings as he leads you toward the entrance.

The interior of the building is just as impressive as the outside — modern, sleek, and buzzing with energy. Everywhere you look, there are people in team gear, some hurrying between offices, others deep in conversation. And then, as if the situation couldn’t get more surreal, Lewis Hamilton appears in the lobby, flanked by Toto Wolff.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you stop dead in your tracks. Fernando pauses beside you, a knowing smile on his face as he watches your reaction.

“Fernando,” Lewis greets, his smile widening when he sees you standing next to him. “And you must be the young driver I’ve been hearing so much about.”

You manage a nod, but words seem to have escaped you entirely. It’s not every day that you come face-to-face with a five-time world champion and the team principal of the most successful F1 team of the modern era.

Lewis chuckles at your speechlessness, his demeanor as relaxed and approachable as ever. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite,” he says, extending his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

You shake his hand, your own grip slightly shaky. “I … It’s an honor,” you stammer, your voice finally finding its way back to you.

Toto steps forward next, offering his hand as well. “Welcome to Brackley,” he says, his tone warm but with the same underlying intensity that’s made him such a formidable figure in the sport. “Fernando’s told us a lot about you.”

You glance over at Fernando, a mix of gratitude and disbelief in your eyes. This is so far beyond anything you could have imagined when you first got his call.

Lewis gestures for you to follow him down a hallway, with Toto and Fernando close behind. “When Fernando reached out to me,” Lewis begins, his tone casual but sincere, “and told me about your situation, I knew we had to do something. Talent like yours shouldn’t be held back by anything, least of all by something as ridiculous as a lack of sponsorship.”

You’re still reeling from the fact that Lewis Hamilton knows who you are, let alone that he’s gone out of his way to help you. “I … I don’t even know what to say,” you admit, your voice soft with emotion.

“Don’t worry about that just yet,” Toto says from behind you, his tone light. “Let’s get you settled in first.”

You follow them through the labyrinth of hallways, trying to absorb everything at once. Fernando stays close, a steady presence as you make your way deeper into the facility. There’s a sense of purpose in the air, a kind of quiet determination that’s palpable even as people move around with the calm efficiency of a well-oiled machine.

Eventually, Lewis stops outside a conference room, holding the door open for you to enter first. You step inside, the space cool and sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the meticulously kept grounds outside. A large table dominates the center of the room, and as you approach, you notice a folder sitting at one end, the Mercedes logo embossed on the cover.

You hover near the table, not daring to sit until someone tells you to. Fernando catches your hesitation, nudging you gently in the direction of a chair. “Go on,” he says softly. “This is for you.”

You sink into the chair, your heart pounding as you look at the folder in front of you. Lewis and Toto take seats across from you, with Fernando settling in beside you. The atmosphere in the room shifts slightly, becoming more formal but no less supportive.

Toto reaches for the folder, sliding it across the table to you. “This,” he begins, his voice calm and measured, “is an offer to join the Mercedes Junior Team.”

You blink, sure you must have misheard him. “The … Mercedes Junior Team?”

Lewis smiles, nodding. “We believe in your potential,” he says simply. “And we want to give you the opportunity to develop that potential to the fullest.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for the folder, your mind racing. This is it. This is the chance you’ve been fighting for, the one you never thought would come, at least not like this. You open the folder, your eyes scanning the first few lines of the contract inside. It’s all real — your name, the terms, everything.

“We know it’s a big decision,” Toto continues, his gaze steady on you. “Take your time to go through everything, ask any questions you have. But know that we’re serious about this. We want you on our team.”

You’re overwhelmed, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, but it’s a good kind of pressure, the kind that comes from knowing you’re on the verge of something life-changing. You look up at Fernando, who’s been watching you quietly, and there’s a look of pride in his eyes that makes your chest tighten.

“I don’t … I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lewis leans forward slightly, his expression gentle but serious. “Start by believing that you deserve this,” he says. “Because you do. And we’re here to help you every step of the way.”

There’s a long silence as you let his words sink in, your fingers tracing the edge of the folder. This is everything you’ve been working toward, everything you’ve sacrificed for, and now that it’s here in front of you, it feels almost too good to be true.

But as you look around the table — at Lewis, Toto, and Fernando — you realize that this isn’t just a dream. It’s real. They’re offering you a future, a chance to prove yourself at the highest level, and they believe in you enough to make it happen.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before meeting their gazes again. “I … I don’t know how to thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

“There’s no need for thanks,” Toto says with a small smile. “Just show us what you can do.”

Fernando places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his voice low and encouraging. “You’ve already done the hard part. Now, it’s just time to make it official.”

You nod, the weight of the contract in your hands feeling lighter now. “I’m ready,” you say, your voice steadying with newfound resolve.

Lewis grins. “Welcome to the team.”

***

The months following your signing with Mercedes have been a whirlwind. Every day brings something new — testing, meetings, media obligations, training sessions — but through it all, Fernando remains a constant presence. He’s there for every debrief, every important conversation, and when he’s not by your side, he’s only a phone call away. The mentorship he offers is invaluable, not just because of his experience but because of his belief in you.

Today, though, feels different. The season is winding down, and you’ve been expecting a bit of a lull, maybe even some time to catch your breath. But when Fernando calls you to meet him at a quiet café on the outskirts of town, there’s a certain energy in his voice that you can’t quite place.

You arrive at the café to find Fernando already seated at a table near the window, his sunglasses pushed up onto his head and a cup of coffee in front of him. He looks up as you approach, a small, almost secretive smile playing on his lips.

“Morning,” you greet him, sliding into the seat opposite. “You’re up to something, I can tell.”

Fernando chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee before setting the cup down. “Maybe I am,” he says, his tone teasing but warm. “How are you feeling about next season?”

The question catches you off guard. “Next season? I mean, I haven’t really thought that far ahead yet. There’s still so much to do now.”

He nods, leaning back in his chair as he studies you, a hint of something more serious in his gaze. “Well, it’s time to start thinking about it,” he says, pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket and sliding it across the table to you.

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued as you reach for the envelope. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” Fernando encourages, his eyes never leaving yours.

You do as he says, your fingers careful as you tear open the envelope. Inside is a single sheet of paper, neatly folded. You unfold it slowly, your eyes scanning the top of the page.

Carlin Motorsport — Formula 2 Contract Offer.

Your breath catches, and you look up at Fernando, disbelief written all over your face. “Is this … real?”

“Very real,” he confirms, his smile widening. “They want you for next season. Full-time seat, competitive car, the whole package.”

You’re speechless for a moment, the weight of the offer sinking in. Carlin is one of the top teams in Formula 2, a proven stepping stone to Formula 1, and they want you. It’s everything you’ve been working toward, but the reality of it is almost overwhelming.

“This is …” you start, your voice trailing off as you try to find the right words. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He reaches across the table, placing his hand over yours, his expression softening. “You’ve earned this,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve worked hard, proven yourself, and now it’s time to take the next step.”

You nod, still trying to wrap your head around it all. “But how? I mean, why would they choose me over anyone else? There are so many talented drivers out there …”

Fernando squeezes your hand, drawing your attention back to him. “Because you’re one of the best,” he says simply. “They see it, just like I do. And they know you’re going places.”

You take a deep breath, the reality of it finally starting to settle in. “Carlin … Formula 2 … It’s really happening.”

“It is,” Fernando confirms with a smile. “And you’re ready for it.”

There’s a long pause as you sit there, the contract still in your hands. Fernando watches you carefully, his gaze thoughtful. Then, as if sensing that there’s something more to discuss, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious.

You look up, your heart skipping a beat at the sudden change in his demeanor. “What is it?”

He hesitates for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I’m planning to return to Formula 1 in 2021.”

The news hits you like a bolt of lightning, your eyes widening in shock. “You’re … coming back? To F1?”

Fernando nods, his expression unreadable. “Yes. I’ve been in talks with a few teams, and it looks like everything is lining up for a comeback.”

You’re stunned, your mind racing to catch up with what he’s just said. Fernando Alonso, returning to Formula 1 … it’s huge, and the implications of it start to sink in. “That’s incredible,” you say, a mix of excitement and apprehension in your voice. “But what does that mean for … us? For everything we’ve been working on?”

He’s silent for a moment, his gaze intense as he considers your question. “It means that while I’ll still be around to support you, I won’t be able to be as hands-on as I’ve been. I won’t be able to be your full-time manager anymore.”

The words hit you hard, and you feel a pang of anxiety start to creep in. Fernando’s been your rock, the one who’s guided you through every step of this journey, and the thought of losing that constant presence is unsettling.

“But,” he continues, his tone reassuring, “I’m not leaving you in the lurch. I’ve already started talking to some people, and I’m going to make sure you get a manager who’s the best of the best. Someone who knows the sport inside and out, who can give you everything you need to succeed.”

You nod slowly, trying to process everything he’s telling you. It’s a lot to take in— the offer from Carlin, Fernando’s return to F1, the changes that will come with it — but there’s a part of you that understands. This is the nature of the sport, constantly evolving, constantly moving forward.

“I’m happy for you,” you finally say, your voice sincere. “Really, I am. You deserve to be back in F1, where you belong.”

Fernando smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thank you. And you deserve to be in F2, racing at the front, showing everyone what you’re capable of.”

There’s a pause, the weight of the moment settling over both of you. Then, Fernando’s smile turns a bit more mischievous as he leans back in his chair.

“But don’t think this means I’m going to go easy on you,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’ll still be watching, making sure you’re giving it your all.”

You laugh, the tension breaking slightly at his words. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He nods, satisfied, before finishing off his coffee. “Good. Because the hard work isn’t over yet. If anything, it’s just beginning.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of determination settling over you. Fernando’s right — this is just the beginning. The road ahead will be challenging, but you’re ready for it. And with his support, even if it’s from a distance, you know you can handle whatever comes your way.

“Thank you,” you say again, your voice full of gratitude. “For everything.”

Fernando just smiles, standing up from the table and offering you his hand. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got a lot to prepare for.”

You take his hand, rising from your seat, and together you leave the café, the future stretching out before you, full of possibilities.

***

The hum of the F2 paddock is a mix of nerves and excitement, a constant undercurrent of energy that seems to electrify the air. It’s the first race of the season, and you can feel it. The mechanics are moving with purpose, checking and double-checking every detail of the car. Engineers are glued to their screens, analyzing data with furrowed brows. And you, in the midst of it all, are the picture of focus — calm on the outside but with a fire in your eyes that tells Fernando you’re ready for this.

He stands a few feet away, leaning casually against the garage wall, but his eyes are on you. Always on you. He’s seen you grow over these past months, watched as you’ve taken every challenge head-on, and now, as you prepare for your first F2 race, he can’t help but feel a surge of pride.

Yuki Tsunoda, your teammate, walks over, helmet in hand. He’s grinning, but there’s a trace of awe in his expression as he glances between you and Fernando. “I still can’t believe it,” Yuki says, shaking his head slightly. “Fernando Alonso, here in our garage, supporting you. It’s surreal.”

You chuckle, giving Yuki a playful nudge with your elbow. “Believe it. He’s stuck with me now.”

Fernando smirks, pushing off the wall and walking over to the two of you. “Yuki, how are you feeling about today?” He asks, his tone friendly but professional.

Yuki straightens up, clearly wanting to impress. “I’m ready. I’ve been looking forward to this all off-season. Just want to get out there and race.”

“Good,” Fernando nods, his eyes sharp as he assesses Yuki. “Remember, the first race sets the tone. Keep your head down, focus on your own performance, and the results will come.”

Yuki nods, absorbing the advice. “And you?” He asks, turning back to you. “First F2 race … How are you feeling?”

You shrug, but there’s a determined glint in your eyes. “Excited. Nervous. Ready. All of it.”

Fernando can’t help but smile at that. He’s seen that look in countless drivers — right before they go on to do something special. “You’ve got this,” he says, his voice low but full of conviction. “Just do what you do best.”

You give him a small, appreciative smile before turning back to the car, where the final preparations are being made. Fernando watches you for a moment longer, feeling the weight of the day. This is a big moment, not just for you, but for him too. He’s invested so much in you, not just as a driver but as a person, and now he’s about to see the fruits of that labor on one of the biggest stages.

Yuki eventually heads back to his side of the garage, leaving you and Fernando in a comfortable silence. He steps closer to you, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “Remember, it’s just another race. Don’t let the pressure get to you. You’ve done this a hundred times before.”

You nod, your expression set with determination. “I know. I just need to stay focused.”

“Exactly,” Fernando agrees, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder. “And remember, I’m here. You’re not doing this alone.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between you, the noise of the paddock fading slightly as you take in his words. It’s a reassurance, a reminder that no matter what happens out there, you have someone in your corner who believes in you completely.

The minutes tick by, and soon it’s time for the drivers to head to the grid. The mechanics push your car out of the garage, and you follow, helmet in hand, Fernando right by your side. As you walk, he gives you last-minute reminders, his tone calm but firm, designed to keep you centered.

“Trust your instincts,” he says. “You know the car, you know the track. Let the race come to you.”

You nod, absorbing every word as you approach your car on the grid. The other teams and drivers are milling about, final checks being made before the start. Fernando stands with you by the car, watching as you put on your helmet and climb into the cockpit. There’s a buzz of activity all around, but for a moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you.

He leans in close, his voice carrying over the sound of the grid. “Remember why you’re here. Show them what you’re made of.”

You glance up at him, your visor reflecting the intense determination in your eyes. “I will.”

And with that, the crew steps back, and it’s just you in the car, the engine roaring to life around you. Fernando takes a few steps back, watching as you complete the formation lap. His heart pounds in his chest, a mix of nerves and anticipation. He’s been in this position countless times, but it’s different when it’s someone you’ve invested so much in.

As the cars line up on the grid, the tension mounts. Fernando’s eyes never leave your car, his mind running through every possible scenario. He knows how unpredictable these races can be, how one small mistake can change everything. But he also knows that you’re ready. He’s seen it in your training, in your focus, in the way you’ve handled every challenge thrown at you.

The lights go out, and the roar of engines fills the air. The race is on, and Fernando’s eyes are locked on the screen, watching as you navigate the chaos of the first few corners. It’s a tight pack, cars jostling for position, but you hold your ground, staying calm and composed even as the pressure builds.

Fernando barely breathes as the laps tick by, his focus entirely on you. There are moments where his heart leaps into his throat — close calls, tight overtakes — but you handle them all with the skill and precision of a seasoned driver. You’re pushing, but not too hard, balancing aggression with caution in a way that impresses even him.

Midway through the race, you find yourself in a battle for position with one of the more experienced drivers. Fernando can see the tension in your driving, the way you’re pushing the car to its limits. But he also sees the intelligence in your approach, the way you’re sizing up your opponent, waiting for the right moment.

“Come on,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes glued to the screen as you make your move. It’s a daring pass, squeezing through a gap that’s barely there, but you make it stick. Fernando lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re doing it,” he whispers to himself, pride swelling in his chest.

The race continues, the intensity never letting up. There are moments of sheer brilliance, and moments where Fernando’s nerves are stretched to their limits, but through it all, you remain unshaken. Every lap, every corner, you’re proving exactly why you belong here, why Carlin chose you, and why Fernando believes in you so much.

As the race nears its end, you find yourself in a strong position, battling for a spot on the podium. Fernando’s heart pounds in his chest, his hands clenched into fists as he watches the final laps unfold. It’s a nail-biter, the cars ahead of you just within reach, and he can see you pushing, giving it everything you’ve got.

“Come on, come on,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving the screen. “You’ve got this.”

The final lap is a blur of speed and adrenaline, but you’re right there, closing in on the car ahead. Fernando can feel the tension in the air, the entire Carlin garage on edge as they watch you make your move. It’s a daring overtake, one that requires absolute precision, but you nail it, sliding into third place just before the final corner.

Fernando’s heart leaps as you cross the finish line, securing a podium in your very first F2 race. The garage erupts in cheers, but he’s already moving, heading out to meet you as you bring the car back to the pits.

When you climb out of the car, the smile on your face is all he needs to see. You did it. You proved yourself, and in a big way. Fernando is the first to reach you, pulling you into a tight hug, his voice full of pride.

“You were incredible out there,” he says, his words muffled slightly by the cheers around you. “Absolutely incredible.”

You pull back, your eyes shining with excitement. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He shakes his head, his smile wide. “You did this. You took everything you’ve learned and you made it happen. This is just the beginning.”

Yuki comes over, grinning from ear to ear as he claps you on the back. “Third place in your first race? You’re making the rest of us look bad!”

You laugh, the tension of the race finally melting away as you share the moment with your teammate and mentor. But even as you celebrate, Fernando’s mind is already thinking ahead, planning for the future. This is just the first step, and he knows there are many more to come. But for now, he’s content to stand here with you, knowing that you’ve just taken a huge leap forward in your career.

As the celebrations continue around you, Fernando steps back, watching you with a mixture of pride and anticipation. He’s seen something special in you from the start, and today, you proved him right. But he knows this is just the beginning, and he can’t wait to see where this journey takes you

***

Fernando sits at the head of a sleek conference table in a high-rise office overlooking a bustling cityscape. The room is all glass and steel, exuding an air of professionalism and success. It’s the kind of setting where big decisions are made, the kind of setting where lives are changed. He glances at his watch — just a few minutes before you’re supposed to arrive.

To his left is a man in his late forties, dressed in a sharp suit that screams old money and prestige. This is Carlos Mendes, a veteran in the world of motorsport management. Carlos has a reputation for being ruthless when it comes to getting his clients the best deals.

He’s represented world champions, negotiated multimillion-dollar contracts, and navigated the treacherous waters of sponsorships with the skill of a seasoned general. Fernando had carefully chosen Carlos, knowing that you would need someone who could not only protect your interests but also push for the best opportunities.

On Fernando’s right is Sophie Duclair, a high-powered talent agent whose client list reads like a who’s who of global sports and entertainment icons. Sophie, with her sleek bob and impeccably tailored outfit, is known for her ability to secure top-tier endorsement deals that go beyond the traditional boundaries of sports.

Luxury brands, fashion houses, and even Hollywood producers trust her judgment implicitly. She’s the one who can take your rising star and catapult it into a whole different stratosphere.

The door to the conference room opens, and you walk in, dressed casually but with an unmistakable air of confidence. It’s clear you’ve grown more comfortable in these kinds of environments, but there’s still a trace of curiosity in your eyes as you take in the room and the people seated at the table.

“Good to see you,” Fernando says, rising to greet you with a warm smile. He motions to the empty chair next to him. “Take a seat. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

You sit down, glancing at Carlos and Sophie with polite curiosity. Fernando leans back in his chair, folding his hands on the table. “Let me introduce you to Carlos Mendes,” he says, gesturing to the man on his left. “Carlos is one of the top managers in the business. He’s going to help guide your career from here on out, making sure you get the best opportunities on and off the track.”

Carlos nods, his expression serious but welcoming. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says in a deep, authoritative voice. “Fernando has told me a lot about you, and I’ve been following your progress. You’ve got a bright future ahead, and I’m here to make sure you reach your full potential.”

You smile, a mix of gratitude and anticipation in your eyes. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Fernando continues, turning to Sophie. “And this is Sophie Duclair, one of the best talent agents in the industry. Sophie has a knack for securing deals that align perfectly with her clients’ personal brands. She’s here to help you navigate the world of endorsements and partnerships.”

Sophie smiles, her demeanor warm yet professional. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she says, her voice smooth and confident. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your rise in F2, and I have to say, the opportunities are endless. There are brands out there who are going to want to associate themselves with your story, your talent, and your image.”

You nod, clearly intrigued but still processing the magnitude of what’s happening. Fernando notices the slight furrow in your brow and steps in to guide the conversation.

“Here’s the thing,” Fernando begins, his tone serious but encouraging. “You’ve been fighting against the odds, and that’s what’s made your story so compelling. A lot of people might have seen your gender as an obstacle, but we’re turning it into an asset. You’ve already proven you belong in F2, and with the right guidance, we’re going to show the world that you’re not just a great driver — you’re a game-changer.”

Carlos leans forward slightly, his eyes focused on you. “Exactly. The motorsport world is evolving, and brands want to be associated with that evolution. They want to be seen as forward-thinking, inclusive, and ahead of the curve. You’re in a unique position to offer them that opportunity.”

Sophie picks up the thread seamlessly. “But it’s not just about slapping a logo on your car or your race suit. It’s about aligning with brands that resonate with who you are and where you want to go. That’s where I come in. I’ve been in talks with several companies that are very interested in working with you.”

You look at Fernando, and he gives you an encouraging nod, urging you to speak your mind. “It sounds … amazing,” you begin, your voice steady but thoughtful. “But I want to make sure that whatever deals we make, they’re the right ones. I don’t want to just be a face on an ad — I want to represent something real.”

Carlos smiles, clearly impressed by your maturity. “That’s the right approach. And that’s exactly why we’re here — to make sure that every move we make is strategic and meaningful. You’ve got the talent and the story, and now it’s about building the brand that reflects that.”

Sophie leans back in her chair, crossing her legs as she regards you with a calculating but friendly gaze. “We’ve already secured two deals that I think you’re going to be very happy with,” she says, a hint of excitement in her voice. “The first is with Cartier. They’re looking to expand their presence in the sports world, and they see you as the perfect ambassador for their brand — strong, elegant, and determined.”

Your eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised. “Cartier?” You echo, the name alone carrying a weight of prestige and luxury.

Sophie nods, smiling at your reaction. “That’s right. They want to work with you on a campaign that’s going to be centered around breaking barriers and redefining what it means to be successful. It’s not just about jewelry — it’s about the story you tell when you wear it.”

Fernando watches as you process this, seeing the mix of excitement and caution in your expression. He knows how big this is, and he also knows how important it is for you to feel comfortable with every step of this journey.

“And the second deal?” You ask, your voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

Sophie’s smile widens. “That would be with Chanel. They’re launching a new line of sportswear, and they want you to be the face of it. It’s a bold move for them, branching out into a market that’s traditionally been dominated by other brands. But they believe in you, and they believe that you can help them make a statement.”

You lean back in your chair, clearly taking a moment to absorb the magnitude of what’s being offered. Fernando can see the wheels turning in your mind, the careful consideration you’re giving to each opportunity.

“I … I didn’t expect anything like this,” you admit, looking around the table. “It’s incredible, but it’s also a lot to take in.”

Carlos nods, his expression understanding. “It is. But you’re not in this alone. We’re here to guide you, to make sure that every decision you make is the right one for you and your career.”

Fernando leans forward slightly, his voice low and reassuring. “You’ve worked hard to get here. You deserve these opportunities. But like Carlos said, we’re going to make sure that every step you take is the right one. We’re not rushing into anything. We’re building something that’s going to last.”

You look at him, and he can see the trust in your eyes. It’s a trust he’s earned over the months, through every piece of advice, every word of encouragement, every push to make you better. And now, as you sit here on the brink of something huge, he feels a deep sense of pride.

“These are just the first steps,” Sophie says, her tone confident and poised. “There’s so much more we can do. But it’s all going to be on your terms. You’re in control of your image, your brand. We’re just here to help you shape it.”

You take a deep breath, your gaze sweeping over the table, taking in the faces of the people who are now part of your team. “I want to do this right,” you say finally, your voice strong. “I want to be someone people can look up to, someone who represents more than just winning races.”

Fernando smiles, feeling a swell of pride at your words. “And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. We’re just getting started.”

The meeting continues, the conversation shifting to the details of the contracts, the timelines for the campaigns, and the strategies for maximizing your visibility. Throughout it all, Fernando watches you closely, noting the way you handle the discussions with a mix of humility and confidence. It’s clear you’re taking everything in, asking the right questions, making sure you understand every aspect of what’s being presented.

By the time the meeting wraps up, there’s a palpable sense of excitement in the room. The deals with Cartier and Chanel are just the beginning, and everyone knows it. There are more opportunities on the horizon, more doors that are about to open. But for now, it’s about taking the first steps, setting the foundation for what’s to come.

As you rise to leave, Fernando walks you to the door, Carlos and Sophie following close behind. “We’ll be in touch with the final details,” Sophie says, her tone professional but warm. “I’m excited to see where this journey takes us.”

Carlos nods in agreement. “You’ve got a bright future ahead. Let’s make the most of it.”

You thank them both, turning to Fernando with a smile that holds a mix of gratitude and determination. "I couldn’t have done this without you," you say softly.

Fernando shakes his head, his smile reflecting the pride he feels. "You’ve earned every bit of this. Now, let's show the world what you’re capable of."

***

The sun dips low over the suburban skyline, casting a warm golden hue over the backyard where laughter mingles with the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation. String lights hang from the trees, swaying gently in the evening breeze, and the faint scent of barbecue lingers in the air. You’re surrounded by familiar faces — family, childhood friends, and the newer ones you’ve made in F2. The mix of old and new feels right, like the pieces of your life are finally coming together.

Fernando stands near the edge of the crowd, leaning casually against a tree as he watches you. He’s been here for hours, blending in with the celebration, though he’s always slightly apart, his presence comforting but never overbearing. He’s wearing one of those half-smiles, the kind that makes it hard to tell if he’s deep in thought or just quietly enjoying the moment.

You catch his eye, and he raises his glass — a silent toast that you return with a small grin before getting pulled back into a conversation with one of your childhood friends. They’re reminiscing about old times, laughing about things that seem so far removed from the high-speed world you now inhabit. It’s nice, grounding even, to remember that you had a life before all of this — a simpler one where the biggest concern was which video game to play after school.

As the night wears on, the crowd begins to thin. Your parents are still mingling, clearly proud of the party they’ve thrown. Your mom’s voice carries across the yard as she gushes to someone about how happy she is that you’ve managed to pay off the second mortgage. It was a weight that they never let you see, but you knew it was there, and being able to lift it was one of the proudest moments you’ve had since stepping into a race car.

Fernando, ever observant, notices the moment your shoulders relax as you hear your mom’s words. He takes a small step forward, knowing that the night is winding down, and he’s been waiting for just the right moment.

Eventually, as the last of your friends hug you goodbye and head out, you find yourself standing near the fire pit, the glow from the dying embers illuminating your face. Fernando approaches, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“Enjoying your birthday?” He asks, his voice low and warm, like the crackling fire beside you.

You nod, a content smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, it’s been really great. I didn’t expect so many people to show up.”

“People care about you,” Fernando says simply. “You’ve made quite an impact.”

You shrug, clearly a little shy about the praise. “I’m just glad to have a night to relax with everyone. It’s been a whirlwind.”

Fernando’s smile deepens. He knows how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve sacrificed, and how rare these moments of peace are for you. “You deserve it. You’ve earned it.”

There’s a beat of silence, comfortable and familiar, before Fernando clears his throat. “I, uh, have something for you.”

You turn to look at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “Fernando, you didn’t have to get me anything. You’ve already done so much.”

“I know,” he says, his tone a little softer now, as if he’s stepping into more vulnerable territory. “But I wanted to.”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small box, wrapped in simple but elegant paper. You hesitate for a moment, then take it from his hands, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should.

Curiosity piques as you carefully unwrap the paper and open the box. Inside is a delicate necklace, the pendant a tiny, intricate race helmet studded with a single diamond where the visor would be. It’s not overly flashy, but it’s beautiful and unmistakably meaningful.

You stare at it, speechless, before looking up at Fernando, your eyes wide with surprise and something deeper — something like awe. “Fernando … this is …”

He cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head. “You don’t have to say anything. I just … wanted you to have something that reminds you of where you’re headed. You’ve got a bright future, and I wanted to give you something to keep close as you chase it.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away, focusing on the necklace instead. You’re not sure what to say — how do you thank someone for something that goes beyond just a gift?

Fernando steps closer, his voice lowering as he continues, “I’ve come to see you as … well, like a daughter, I suppose. Watching you grow, seeing how far you’ve come, it’s been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

Your heart swells with emotion, and before you can stop yourself, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest. The necklace is still clutched in your hand, but all you can focus on is the steady beat of Fernando’s heart against your ear.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice muffled but sincere. “For everything.”

Fernando’s arms come around you, holding you close in a way that’s both protective and comforting. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmurs. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. That’s all the thanks I need.”

You stay like that for a moment longer, taking in the warmth and security of the embrace, before finally pulling back. You look up at Fernando, and there’s a connection between you now that goes beyond mentor and protégé — it’s something familial, something lasting.

He gestures to the necklace, a small smile playing on his lips. “Do you want some help putting that on?”

You nod, unable to find the words, and hand it to him. He carefully fastens it around your neck, his fingers steady and sure, and when he’s done, you reach up to touch the pendant, feeling its cool metal against your skin.

“Perfect,” Fernando says, stepping back to admire it. “Just like you.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re too kind.”

“No,” he replies, his voice firm but gentle. “Just honest.”

As the fire continues to crackle beside you, the night wrapping around you both like a blanket, you realize that this birthday, this moment, will be one you remember for the rest of your life. Not because of the party or the people, but because of the man standing beside you — the one who believed in you when no one else did, who gave you the push you needed to keep going.

And as you walk back towards the house, the pendant resting against your chest, you know that no matter what happens in the future, you’ll always have this — this connection, this bond, this family you’ve found in the most unexpected place.

***

The noise is deafening as you cross the finish line, but it’s the silence that follows in your mind that makes it real. The world blurs around you; the roar of the engine fades, the cheers from the grandstands become a distant echo. It’s just you and the knowledge that you’ve done it. The chequered flag waves in the distance, a confirmation that you’ve won the F2 championship.

In your rookie season.

The last lap plays on a loop in your mind: the battle with your teammate, the wheel-to-wheel tension that stretched until the final corner, the moment you finally saw a gap and took it. The entire year has been leading up to this, every race, every struggle, every doubt. And now, you’re here. A champion.

The car slows as you pull into the pit lane, your hands shaking on the steering wheel. The radio crackles with voices — your engineer shouting congratulations, the team cheering, but there’s only one voice you really want to hear.

“You did it,” Fernando comes through, calm but with a hint of emotion that he rarely shows. “I knew you could do it.”

A smile breaks across your face, one that you couldn’t suppress even if you tried. “We did it,” you correct him, because it’s true. You’ve always been a team, even when he wasn’t on the track with you.

As you roll into the Carlin garage, the world around you explodes into celebration. Mechanics, engineers, and team members swarm the car, cheering and clapping as they pull you out of the cockpit. You’re immediately wrapped in a dozen hugs, people shouting your name, lifting you off the ground in their excitement.

But even in the chaos, you’re searching for him. And when you finally spot Fernando standing just outside the crowd, his expression is one of pure pride. He doesn’t rush in to join the others, instead, he stays back, letting you have your moment. That’s Fernando, always understanding, always knowing exactly what you need.

You finally push through the throng of well-wishers and make your way over to him. For a moment, the two of you just look at each other, and in that look, there’s a thousand words unspoken.

“Not bad for a rookie,” he finally says, his smile widening.

You laugh, still breathless from the race. “Not bad at all.”

He pulls you into a hug, and this time, you don’t hold back. You cling to him, letting the emotion of the moment wash over you. “Thank you,” you whisper, and you know he understands. This victory is as much his as it is yours.

When you pull back, you see someone else approaching from the corner of your eye. It’s Toto Wolff, towering and imposing as always, but there’s a warmth in his expression that’s almost fatherly. Next to him, Williams Racing team principal Jost Capito, stands with a smile that’s equally as proud.

“Toto?” You ask, surprised. It’s not every day he shows up in the F2 paddock, let alone after a race.

He steps forward, offering his hand. “Congratulations,” he says, his voice steady. “That was an incredible race.”

You shake his hand, still trying to process the fact that he’s here. “Thank you,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jost steps forward, nodding in agreement. “You’ve had an outstanding season. You’ve shown everyone what you’re capable of.”

There’s something in their tone, something that makes your heart race with more than just post-race adrenaline. Fernando catches your eye, giving you a slight nod, as if to say, this is it.

Toto exchanges a look with Jost before continuing, “We’ve been following your progress closely, and we believe you’re ready for the next step.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The next step. It’s what every F2 driver dreams of, but it’s never guaranteed, not even with a championship under your belt. “The next step?” You echo, almost afraid to hope.

Jost steps in, his smile widening. “We want you to race for Williams in Formula 1 next season.”

For a moment, the world stops. You blink, trying to process the words, to make sure you heard him right. Formula 1. They want you to race in F1.

“Next season?” You manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Toto nods, his expression serious but encouraging. “Yes. We’ve been in discussions with Williams, and we believe you’re the perfect fit for their team. You’ve proven that you can handle the pressure, and now it’s time to see what you can do on the biggest stage.”

You feel like you’re floating, like this is a dream that you might wake up from at any moment. You turn to Fernando, searching his face for confirmation that this is real. He’s smiling, but there’s a look in his eyes that tells you he’s known about this for a while. He’s always known.

“You’ll be racing in F1,” Fernando says, his voice steady. “You deserve it.”

It’s then that the full weight of what’s happening hits you. F1. The pinnacle of motorsport. And not just racing in F1, but racing alongside the very best in the world. You’ll be on the grid with drivers you’ve looked up to your entire life. Drivers like Lewis Hamilton. And …

Your eyes widen as the realization dawns. Fernando is making his comeback next year. He’s going to be on that grid, too.

“I’ll be racing … with you,” you say, the words barely escaping your lips.

Fernando’s smile is knowing, almost amused. “Yes, you will.”

The thought is almost overwhelming. Not only will you be in F1, but you’ll be competing alongside Fernando, the man who has been your mentor, your guide, your biggest supporter. The man who helped you get to this very moment.

You shake your head, still trying to process it all. “I don’t know what to say.”

Toto places a hand on your shoulder, his grip reassuring. “You don’t need to say anything. Just be ready to show the world what you’re capable of. We’ll handle the rest.”

Jost nods in agreement. “We believe in you. You’ve already proven that you can handle anything that comes your way.”

You glance back at Fernando, and the pride in his eyes is unmistakable. This has been his goal all along — to get you to the top, to see you succeed where so many doubted you could. And now, here you are, about to step into the world of F1.

“I’ll be ready,” you say, your voice stronger now, filled with the determination that’s carried you this far.

Fernando nods, satisfied. “I know you will.”

As Toto and Jost step away to discuss the finer details with the Carlin team, you stand there with Fernando, the enormity of what just happened settling in.

“You knew this was coming, didn’t you?” You ask, giving him a sideways glance.

Fernando shrugs, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I had a feeling. But it was always up to you to make it happen.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

He grins. “And you’re an F1 driver now. Better get used to it.”

The two of you stand there for a moment longer, taking in the victory, the announcement, the future that’s unfolding right before your eyes. It’s been a long road, full of challenges and doubts, but you’ve made it. And now, you’re about to step onto the biggest stage in motorsport, with Fernando right there alongside you.

As you look out at the garage, the Carlin team still buzzing with excitement, you can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. For the team, for the journey, and most of all, for Fernando — the man who believed in you when no one else did, and who continues to believe in you now.

“Thank you, Fernando,” you say quietly, but with all the sincerity you can muster. “For everything.”

He simply nods, his expression softening. “You’ve earned it.”

And as you stand there, the future stretching out before you, one thing is certain: this is just the beginning.

***

The winter sun hangs low in the sky as you walk along the rocky path that leads to Fernando’s private track in northern Spain. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine trees and the distant murmur of the sea. It’s a world away from the chaos of the paddock, a place where the outside noise fades, leaving only the hum of your thoughts and the weight of what’s to come. The off-season is supposed to be a time to rest, to recharge, but this year, it’s different. There’s no time to lose — not with your first Formula 1 season looming on the horizon.

Fernando walks beside you, his stride as confident and unhurried as ever. His presence is steadying, a reminder that you’re not alone on this journey. He’s been here before, countless times, and now he’s passing on everything he knows to you. This winter isn’t just about physical training; it’s about mastering the mental side of the sport — the side that can make or break a career in F1.

He stops at the edge of the track, the silence between you stretching out as you both take in the view. The asphalt is cold and unyielding, winding through the landscape like a dark ribbon, a challenge waiting to be conquered.

“You know the driving part,” Fernando says, breaking the silence. His voice is calm, measured, but there’s an intensity to it that commands attention. “You’ve proven that you can handle the car, the speed, the competition. But F1 is more than just driving. It’s a mental game. It’s about being the predator, not the prey.”

You nod, knowing he’s right. The physical demands of F1 are immense, but the mental demands are even greater. The pressure, the mind games, the need to be perfect in a sport where perfection is almost impossible — it’s all part of what makes F1 the pinnacle of motorsport.

“Today, we start with the basics,” Fernando continues, his gaze fixed on the track. “How to be a track terror.”

A track terror. The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. To be feared on the track, to have your competitors second-guessing themselves before they even line up on the grid — that’s what Fernando is talking about. It’s not just about being fast; it’s about being relentless, unyielding, the kind of driver who forces others into mistakes.

“You don’t have to be the fastest in every session,” Fernando explains, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “You just have to make them think you are. Get in their heads. Make them question their own pace, their own decisions.”

He starts to walk along the edge of the track, and you follow, listening closely. “Every driver has a breaking point,” he says. “You need to learn how to find it. Sometimes it’s in their driving — how they react under pressure, how they handle wheel-to-wheel combat. Sometimes it’s off the track — in how they deal with the media, how they cope with setbacks. Your job is to figure out what that breaking point is and use it.”

You absorb his words, understanding that this is the difference between good drivers and great ones. It’s not just about talent; it’s about psychology, about knowing how to manipulate a situation to your advantage.

“And once you find that breaking point?” You ask, wanting to hear it from him.

Fernando stops and turns to face you, his eyes sharp, calculating. “You exploit it,” he says simply. “You push them until they crack. But you have to be smart about it. There’s a fine line between pushing them to the edge and pushing yourself over it.”

His words are blunt, but you know there’s truth in them. F1 isn’t just a sport, it’s a battle, a war of wills as much as it is a test of speed.

“Take the first corner,” Fernando says, pointing to the sharp turn at the end of the straight. “It’s where a lot of races are won or lost. You need to establish yourself early. Show them that you’re not afraid to fight for position, but also that you’re in control. That’s key — being aggressive, but controlled.”

You nod, envisioning the scenarios he’s describing. You’ve raced at high levels before, but F1 is different. The stakes are higher, the margins narrower. There’s no room for error, but there’s also no room for hesitation.

“How do you know when to cross the line?” You ask, thinking back to the times when Fernando has pushed the limits, often to the point where others questioned his tactics.

He gives a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You learn,” he says. “Sometimes by making mistakes. But the key is to learn from them quickly. You have to know when to back off and when to push harder. It’s about balance, about knowing your own limits as much as theirs.”

He pauses, his gaze locking with yours. “And sometimes, you have to cross the line. But when you do, you do it with intent, and you don’t get caught. You make sure it looks like a mistake, something that just happened in the heat of the moment. And you never apologize for it.”

There’s a chill in the air, but you barely notice it, your mind focused on every word. This is what you’ve needed, what you’ve been missing. The edge that will set you apart in a field of the best drivers in the world.

“What about mind games?” You ask, curious to know more about how to handle the psychological warfare that comes with F1.

Fernando chuckles, a sound that’s both amused and knowing. “Mind games are everything,” he says. “They start long before you even get in the car. It’s about how you carry yourself, how you interact with the other drivers, with the media. You have to control the narrative, make them think what you want them to think.”

He starts walking again, this time towards the small building at the edge of the track where the team usually sets up. “The media is a powerful tool,” he continues. “You can use them to your advantage, but you have to be careful. Give them just enough to create doubt in your competitors’ minds, but not enough to give anything away.”

You think back to the countless press conferences you’ve watched, where drivers like Fernando have used their words as weapons, creating stories that unsettle their rivals. It’s a game within a game, and you’re starting to see how deep it goes.

“Never let them see you sweat,” Fernando adds, his tone more serious now. “Even when things aren’t going your way, you have to project confidence. Make them think you have everything under control, even when you don’t. And when they stumble, when they show weakness, you pounce.”

The building looms ahead, the door slightly ajar. Fernando pushes it open, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room with a table, a few chairs, and a whiteboard covered in notes and diagrams. It’s a war room, a place where strategies are formed, where victories are planned.

Fernando gestures for you to sit, and you do, feeling the weight of what’s to come. He takes a seat across from you, his expression now all business.

“Let’s talk about racecraft,” he says, leaning forward. “You need to understand that F1 isn’t just about speed. It’s about strategy, about thinking two, three steps ahead of everyone else. You need to know when to attack and when to hold back, when to take risks and when to play it safe.”

He starts sketching out scenarios on the whiteboard, explaining different race strategies, how to read your competitors, how to manage your tires, your fuel, your energy. It’s a crash course in F1 tactics, and you absorb every detail, knowing that this knowledge could be the difference between winning and losing.

“You’ll have a team behind you,” Fernando says, his eyes never leaving the board as he continues to write. “But you’re the one in the car. You’re the one who has to make the decisions in real-time. Trust your instincts, but also trust your preparation. The more you know, the better equipped you’ll be to handle whatever comes your way.”

He turns back to you, his expression serious. “And remember, F1 is a long game. It’s not just about one race, or even one season. It’s about building a career, about consistently performing at a high level. You have to pace yourself, know when to push and when to hold back. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

You nod, the enormity of what he’s saying sinking in. This isn’t just about your rookie season; it’s about laying the foundation for a long and successful career. And with Fernando guiding you, you know you’re in the best possible hands.

The session goes on, the hours slipping away as you discuss everything from race strategies to media tactics, from how to handle pressure to how to deal with setbacks. Fernando doesn’t sugarcoat anything; he tells you the harsh realities of the sport, the challenges you’ll face, the sacrifices you’ll have to make. But he also gives you the tools to overcome them, to not just survive in F1, but to thrive.

By the time the sun starts to set, casting long shadows across the track, you feel a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. It’s been an intense day, but you know it’s exactly what you needed. Fernando has pushed you, challenged you, but he’s also given you the confidence to believe that you belong in this world, that you can succeed.

As you walk back towards the main house, the sky now a deep orange, Fernando falls into step beside you. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that comes from a shared understanding, a mutual respect that has grown over time.

After a while, Fernando breaks the silence with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You know,” he begins, his tone light but with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “I’ve been called many things in my career. Champion, legend … war criminal.”

You look at him, caught between a laugh and a raised eyebrow. “War criminal?”

He chuckles, shrugging casually. “Not literally, of course. But some of my tactics, let’s say, weren’t always appreciated by everyone. I was willing to do whatever it took to win — sometimes crossing lines that others wouldn’t dare touch.”

You smile, catching on to his meaning. “And you think I’m ready to follow in your footsteps?”

Fernando’s smirk widens. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. F1 isn’t a game for the faint-hearted. It’s for those who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty when it counts. Just remember … there’s no shame in doing what it takes to survive. And thrive.”

His words hang in the cool evening air, and as you both continue walking, you feel a sense of resolve settle within you. Fernando must notice it too because he gives you a sideways glance, the glint still in his eyes. “Just don’t forget who taught you all this when they start throwing accusations your way.”

***

The Bahrain night sky looms overhead, blanketing the circuit in a velvety darkness punctuated by the glaring lights of the paddock. The roar of engines rumbles through the air as teams buzz with last-minute preparations. Mechanics scramble, engineers analyze data, and drivers slip into their zones. The first race of the season carries a unique kind of tension, a palpable energy that’s almost electric. But amidst all the chaos, Fernando moves with calm confidence as he weaves through the pit lane, eyes scanning for one person.

He finds you standing by the Williams garage, helmet in hand, gaze fixed on the distant horizon as if trying to absorb the magnitude of the moment. It’s your first F1 race, and the weight of it all is evident in the slight furrow of your brow, the focused set of your jaw.

Fernando walks up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, drawing you out of your thoughts. “Hey,” he says, his voice cutting through the noise like a sharp blade. “Nervous?”

You turn to face him, a mix of emotions swirling in your eyes — excitement, determination, and yes, a hint of nerves. “A little,” you admit. “It’s different from F2. Bigger.”

Fernando nods, understanding all too well. “It is bigger. The stakes are higher, the pressure’s heavier. But you’ve got this.”

You nod, though your grip on the helmet tightens. “I know. I just need to keep my head in the right place.”

Fernando’s eyes narrow, the glint of the night’s floodlights reflecting in them as he leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “Remember what we talked about in Spain. You’re not here to play nice. You’re here to win. You’re here to make them regret ever doubting you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as his words sink in. This is the Fernando you’ve come to know so well — the ruthless competitor who sees racing as a battlefield, where only the most cunning and unrelenting survive. He’s drilled that mentality into you, reminding you time and time again that the track is no place for mercy.

“You’re not just a driver,” he continues, his tone growing more intense. “You’re a track terror. Make them fear you. Take every opportunity, even if it means forcing them into a mistake. Be aggressive. Be relentless. And if they try to intimidate you-”

“I intimidate them back,” you finish for him, the determination in your voice now matching his.

Fernando’s lips curl into a smirk, clearly pleased. “Exactly. Make them question if they even belong out there with you.”

As he speaks, Nicholas Latifi, your teammate, walks by on his way to his side of the garage. His steps falter when he overhears the tail end of Fernando’s words.

“… If you see an opening, take it. Don’t give them a second to breathe. Push them out of their comfort zone, and when they’re scrambling, that’s when you strike. Hard.”

Latifi’s eyes widen in alarm as he processes what Fernando is saying. He hesitates, clearly debating whether he should approach or back away slowly. Ultimately, he chooses the latter, retreating with a hurried, nervous glance over his shoulder.

You notice Latifi’s reaction and can’t help but laugh. “I think you might’ve scared him off.”

Fernando chuckles, a low, almost devious sound. “Good. Less competition for you.” Then, with a more serious edge, he adds, “He’s not your concern. You’re here for the big players. And don’t forget, every race is an opportunity to show them what you’re made of. Especially the ones who think you don’t deserve to be here.”

You nod, the nerves from earlier replaced by a rising sense of purpose. Fernando’s words have a way of lighting a fire inside you, a fire that burns hotter with every passing second. The crowd noise, the hum of engines, the flashing lights — all of it fades away until there’s only the track and the promise of what lies ahead.

Fernando steps back, giving you space but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “Tonight, you’re going to prove that you’re not just another rookie. You’re a force to be reckoned with. And you’re going to do it with style.”

You smirk, the corners of your mouth curving upward as confidence surges through you. “With style?”

“Absolutely,” Fernando replies, his own smirk widening. “Remember, there’s a fine line between genius and insanity on the track. And you’re going to walk it like it’s a tightrope.”

You slip your helmet on, the visor clicking into place as Fernando’s words echo in your mind. The world outside may be chaotic, but inside your helmet, it’s a sanctuary — a place where you can focus, where every piece of advice, every lesson Fernando has drilled into you, comes together.

He watches you for a moment, pride evident in his eyes. He’s seen your growth, your transformation from a talented driver into something much more formidable. He knows you’re ready for this.

“Now go out there,” he says, voice clear and commanding, “and make them remember your name.”

With a final nod, you turn towards your car, the sleek Williams machine waiting for you. The pit crew is already in position, and the clock is ticking down. But before you step in, Fernando adds one last thing.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he says, catching your attention. You look back at him, and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Terrorize everyone out there … except me.”

You laugh, the sound muffled by your helmet, but the sentiment is clear. “No promises.”

Fernando grins, crossing his arms as he watches you settle into the cockpit. The familiar sounds of the car coming to life fill the air, and the anticipation builds. The lights above the pit lane begin their countdown, and you take a deep breath, centering yourself for what’s to come.

As you drive out onto the track for the formation lap, Fernando steps back, his eyes following your car as it weaves between the other machines, each one a potential target, each one a stepping stone towards the top. He knows you’re ready, knows that tonight is just the beginning of what promises to be an incredible journey.

He’s proud of you, not just as a driver, but as the competitor you’ve become under his guidance. And as you line up on the grid, the lights glowing red above, Fernando’s final words echo in your mind.

Make them remember your name.

The lights go out, and the race begins.

***

The Bahrain circuit is still buzzing with energy even after the race has ended. The floodlights cast a bright, artificial glow over the paddock as drivers, engineers, and media personnel move about, some celebrating, others reflecting on the night’s events. The humid night air is thick with the scent of burning rubber and engine exhaust, a familiar and oddly comforting smell to those who live and breathe motorsport.

Fernando stands in the media pen, his eyes fixed on you as you field questions from a group of eager reporters. He’s barely listening to the reporter in front of him, who’s rattling off questions about his own race. He finished just outside the points, but it doesn’t bother him much. Tonight, his focus isn’t on his own performance but on yours.

You’re animated, your eyes bright, still riding the adrenaline high from the race. You finished ninth — an impressive debut for any rookie, especially in a Williams. Fernando watches as you handle the questions with ease, a slight smile playing on his lips. The way you stand, the way you speak, there’s a confidence there that wasn’t present when he first met you. He sees in you a reflection of his younger self, and it fills him with a quiet pride.

“Fernando,” the reporter in front of him says, trying to regain his attention. “Can you tell us about your strategy today?”

Fernando barely hears the question, his attention still on you. You’re laughing at something a reporter just asked, and he catches a glimpse of that mischievous glint in your eyes — the same one he’s seen countless times in his own reflection. He can tell you’re about to say something memorable, and he doesn’t want to miss it.

“Fernando?” the reporter prompts again, sounding slightly annoyed now.

“Hmm?” Fernando finally acknowledges the reporter, but his gaze doesn’t leave you. “What was that?”

“Your strategy today — what was the thinking behind it?”

“Strategy? Oh, yes, the strategy,” Fernando replies absentmindedly, waving his hand dismissively. “You know, just the usual. Push when you can, hold back when you must.” His answers are automatic, but his mind is elsewhere.

The reporter blinks, clearly unimpressed with the vague response, but before he can ask a follow-up question, Fernando’s attention is fully captured by what you’re saying.

A journalist standing in front of you, wearing a press lanyard and holding a recorder close to your face, asks, “Can you walk us through that incredible overtake on Sebastian Vettel? It looked like you had no fear going up against a four-time world champion.”

You smile, a knowing look in your eyes, and then you glance over at Fernando.

“I knew he would hit the brakes,” you say, loud enough for him to hear. You pause for dramatic effect, and then with a wink in Fernando’s direction, you continue, “Because he has a wife and three kids waiting for him at home.”

The words hang in the air for a moment before the reporters around you burst into laughter. The reference to Fernando’s famous quip about Michael Schumacher years ago is unmistakable, and it’s clear that the media eats it up. But more importantly, Fernando hears it, and his chest swells with pride.

The reporter in front of Fernando raises an eyebrow, curious now about what’s just been said. “Looks like she’s learned a thing or two from you,” he comments.

Fernando finally turns to the reporter, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Yes, she has. More than she knows.”

He watches as you continue the interview, your demeanor composed, yet playful. The way you handle the press is impressive — calm, confident, but with just the right amount of charm to keep them on your side. You’re not just a racer; you’re a showman, someone who understands that Formula 1 is as much about performance off the track as it is on it.

Fernando catches snippets of your conversation, listening as you describe the overtake in more detail. “Seb’s a great driver, no doubt about it. But in that moment, I knew I had him. I could see it in his body language. He was playing it safe, so I took my chance.”

“And what was going through your mind when you made the move?” Another journalist asks.

You pause for a moment, considering the question. Then, with a smirk, you say, “I was thinking, ‘What would Fernando do?’ And then I went for it.”

Fernando chuckles to himself, shaking his head slightly. He can’t help but feel a surge of pride. Not because you’ve imitated him, but because you’ve made the decision to be bold, to take risks, and to trust your instincts. That’s what separates the good drivers from the great ones — the willingness to seize the moment, to act decisively.

You finish up your interview, the reporters gradually dispersing to chase down other drivers. Fernando finally gives his full attention to the reporter in front of him, who’s still trying to get something meaningful out of him.

“Fernando, about your race …” the reporter begins again.

But Fernando is already moving, stepping around the man with a polite but firm nod. “Excuse me,” he says, cutting the interview short. There’s someone far more important he needs to talk to right now.

He strides over to you, your helmet now tucked under your arm as you chat casually with one of the team engineers. You spot him approaching and flash him a smile.

“Hey,” you say as he reaches you. “Did you hear what I said?”

“I did,” Fernando replies, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. “You’ve got quite the sense of humor.”

“Learned from the best,” you quip, giving him a playful nudge.

Fernando laughs, shaking his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually use that line, but I’m glad you did. The media loves a good story, and you just gave them one.”

You shrug, your smile widening. “Figured I’d give them something to talk about. Plus, it’s not every day you get to pass a guy like Seb.”

“And you did it with style,” Fernando adds, his voice filled with admiration. “You handled yourself perfectly out there, both on track and with the press. You’re making your mark.”

The engineer standing next to you clears his throat, clearly not wanting to interrupt but feeling the need to acknowledge Fernando’s presence. “Great job out there today,” he says, offering a handshake.

“Thanks,” Fernando replies, shaking the man’s hand. “But today’s all about her,” he adds, nodding in your direction.

The engineer nods in agreement before excusing himself, leaving you and Fernando alone in the now quieter part of the paddock. The sounds of celebration and interviews still echo in the background, but here, in this moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you.

“You know,” Fernando says after a beat, “I’ve never been prouder.”

You look at him, surprised by the raw emotion in his voice. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirms. “Seeing you out there today … it reminded me why I fell in love with racing in the first place. The passion, the drive, the thrill of the fight. You have all of that, and more.”

Your smile softens, touched by his words. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You did it because you’re a damn good driver,” Fernando corrects, though there’s a warmth in his tone. “But I’m glad I could be a part of your journey.”

You both stand there for a moment, the enormity of what you’ve achieved settling in. Ninth place in your first race is no small feat, especially in a car that everyone had written off as uncompetitive. But you’ve proven them wrong, and you’ve done it in a way that’s uniquely your own.

“Next time, though,” Fernando says, a teasing lilt in his voice, “let’s aim for top five.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No pressure, right?”

“Never,” he replies with a grin. “Just a challenge.”

***

Fernando leans casually against the side of the Alpine motorhome, arms crossed, eyes scanning the paddock. The next season’s first race is in a few days, and the energy around the circuit is electric, buzzing with the anticipation of new beginnings. He’s just finished an interview, the usual media rounds, when he spots you approaching, your new Mercedes gear a stark contrast to the sea of blues and pinks around you.

“Ah, there you are,” Fernando greets with a grin as you draw closer. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

You tilt your head slightly, curious. “Who?”

Fernando pushes off the motorhome, beckoning you to follow as he leads you around to the back, where a young reserve driver is checking his phone, leaning casually against the wall. The kid looks up as you approach, his expression polite, maybe a touch reserved, but there’s an unmistakable spark of intelligence in his eyes.

“Oscar,” Fernando calls out, “this is her.”

Oscar Piastri straightens up, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Nice to meet you,” he says, extending a hand with a shy but confident smile. He’s calm, almost too calm for someone his age, but there’s a warmth there, something genuine. You can’t help but notice how composed he is, how his eyes seem to study you without making you feel scrutinized.

You shake his hand, offering a cool smile in return. “Likewise. I’ve heard good things.”

Oscar chuckles softly, scratching the back of his head. “Hopefully, I can live up to them.”

The three of you chat for a while, exchanging pleasantries about the upcoming season, racing, the usual stuff. Oscar is polite, measured in his responses, but there’s a softness to him that you hadn’t expected. It’s like he’s quietly confident, but without the brashness that usually comes with it. Fernando watches the interaction closely, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he notes the way your demeanor shifts ever so slightly around Oscar — more guarded, maybe, but intrigued.

Eventually, Oscar glances at his watch and excuses himself, mentioning something about a debrief he needs to attend. You nod, maintaining your composed exterior, and watch him walk back towards the Alpine motorhome before turning to Fernando.

“Polite cat vibes,” you murmur almost to yourself, a hint of amusement in your voice. Fernando raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“What was that?” He asks, although there’s a knowing look in his eyes. He’s been around long enough to pick up on these things.

You roll your eyes playfully, but there’s a lightness in your expression that wasn’t there before. “I said, polite cat vibes. You know, like when a cat is super well-behaved, but you just know there’s something more going on behind those eyes?”

Fernando laughs, a genuine, hearty sound that makes a few heads turn in your direction. “So, you think Oscar is a cat?”

“Well, not literally,” you reply, grinning. “It’s just … he’s got this thing, you know? Like he’s really nice, but you can tell he’s got claws if he needs them. And he’s so … calm. I just want to pinch his cheeks and cuddle him.”

Fernando’s laugh turns into a full-blown chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re smitten, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you say, feigning nonchalance as you fold your arms across your chest. “But it’s just … he’s different. Not in a bad way, just-”

“Different,” Fernando finishes for you, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, I get it. But don’t let that cloud your judgment on track.”

You shoot him a look. “Please. I’m not a rookie, and besides, I’m at Mercedes now. I’ve got bigger things to focus on than cute cats.”

Fernando smiles, but there’s a serious undertone to his next words. “Just remember, this is Formula 1. There’s no room for distractions, no matter how polite or cute they might be.”

You nod, understanding the weight behind his words, but there’s still a twinkle in your eye as you glance back in the direction Oscar disappeared. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

“Good,” Fernando replies, clapping you on the back. “Because I’m not going to let you slack off, not even for a second.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” you retort, smirking. There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of you, the kind that only comes from mutual respect and understanding.

But Fernando can’t resist one last jab. “Don’t go soft on him, okay? I’ve got my eye on you.”

You roll your eyes again but with a fond smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Of course,” Fernando grins. “It’s part of my charm.”

You laugh, the sound bright and clear in the busy paddock, and Fernando can’t help but feel a swell of pride. You’ve come so far, and he’s been there every step of the way, watching you grow not just as a driver but as a person. There’s a part of him that’s protective, sure, but there’s also a part that’s thrilled to see you standing on your own two feet, ready to take on whatever comes your wa— even if it’s an Australian polite cat.

“Let’s get out of here,” Fernando says finally, leading the way back to the Mercedes motorhome. “We’ve got a race to win this weekend, and I don’t want any distractions.”

You follow him, but there’s a spring in your step that wasn’t there before, and Fernando notices. He doesn’t say anything, though, just smiles to himself. You’re going to be just fine, he thinks, more than fine.

As you walk together, side by side, you can’t help but glance back once more, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Maybe, just maybe, this season is going to be full of surprises. And Fernando? Well, he’s ready for whatever comes next, as long as you are too.

***

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the vineyard where the ceremony is taking place. Rows of chairs are lined up neatly on the manicured lawn, all facing a simple yet elegant archway draped in white fabric and adorned with soft blush roses. The air is filled with the quiet murmur of guests settling in, the occasional laugh breaking through the serene atmosphere.

Fernando adjusts his tie, glancing around with a mixture of pride and disbelief. How did they get here? It seems like only yesterday he was meeting you for the first time, a determined young driver who refused to be underestimated. Now, here you are, standing at the altar, poised to marry the man you’ve chosen to spend your life with.

Fernando is seated in the front row, just to the left of the aisle, with Mark Webber by his side. The two exchange knowing smiles as the ceremony begins, each lost in their own thoughts. Mark has watched Oscar grow from a promising young talent into a man of integrity and strength, much like Fernando has done with you. There’s a quiet understanding between them, a mutual respect that goes beyond words.

As the officiant begins to speak, Fernando leans over slightly, catching Mark’s eye. “I guess this makes us in-laws,” he whispers, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Mark chuckles softly, nodding. “Seems like it. Didn’t see this coming back when we were racing, did we?”

“Not at all,” Fernando replies with a smile, glancing back at the altar where you and Oscar stand, hand-in-hand. “But I’m glad it did.”

The vows are simple, heartfelt, and deeply personal. Oscar goes first, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“From the moment I met you,” Oscar begins, his eyes locked on yours, “I knew you were different. You challenged me, inspired me, and made me want to be a better person. In a world that often felt overwhelming, you were my calm, my constant. Today, I promise to stand by your side, through every victory and every defeat. I promise to support your dreams as if they were my own, to lift you up when you’re down, and to love you unconditionally, now and forever.”

There’s a brief pause, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with the depth of his sincerity. When it’s your turn, you take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Oscar,” you begin, your voice clear and strong, “You were the unexpected surprise in my life, the calm in my storm. From the moment we met, I knew you were special. You’ve been my partner on and off the track, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. Today, I promise to cherish every moment we have together, to grow with you, and to always be there for you, no matter what. I promise to love you with all that I am, and all that I will ever be. You are my heart, my soul, and my everything.”

Fernando feels a lump in his throat as you finish. He’s never been one to get emotional, but today, sitting here, listening to you pour your heart out, he can’t help but feel a surge of pride and love. He remembers the teenage girl who had to fight for every opportunity, the young woman who never gave up, and now, the bride standing before him, ready to take on the next chapter of her life.

The officiant speaks again, guiding you and Oscar through the final steps of the ceremony. When it’s time for the rings, Mark reaches into his pocket, retrieving Oscar’s band with a small, proud smile. Fernando does the same for you, his hands steady as he hands over the ring you will soon place on Oscar’s finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” you both say, sliding the rings onto each other’s fingers. The moment is profound, sealing your commitment not just in words, but in action.

“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant finally announces, and there’s a collective sigh of happiness from the gathered crowd as Oscar leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s both tender and full of promise.

Applause erupts, and as you and Oscar turn to face your family and friends, hands still entwined, Fernando catches your eye. There’s something unspoken between you, a bond that goes beyond blood, beyond words. You smile at him, and he nods in return, his chest swelling with emotion.

The ceremony concludes, and guests begin to make their way to the reception area, where a beautifully decorated marquee awaits. The air is filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses as everyone mingles, basking in the joy of the occasion.

The second dance is a traditional one with your father. You sway gently in his arms as he whispers words of wisdom, of pride, and of love. The moment is touching, a reminder of the family that has always stood behind you, even when the road was hard.

When the song ends, you hug your father tightly, thanking him for everything. But as the music transitions into something new, you catch Fernando’s eye across the room. There’s a moment of hesitation, but then you make your way towards him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Nando,” you say softly as you reach him, “would you join me for a dance?”

For a brief moment, Fernando is taken aback. He’s always seen you as a strong, independent force — someone who has always forged their own path. But in this moment, he realizes just how much you’ve come to mean to him, how deeply intertwined your lives have become.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You nod, your eyes shining with emotion. “You’ve been like a father to me. I couldn’t imagine today without sharing this moment with you.”

Fernando swallows hard, nodding as he takes your hand. The two of you move to the center of the dance floor, the music soft and slow. As you begin to dance, there’s a sense of calm that settles over you both, a quiet understanding that needs no words.

“I’ve watched you grow,” Fernando says after a few moments, his voice low so only you can hear, “into one of the best drivers I’ve ever known, but more than that … into an incredible person. I’m so proud of you, more than I can ever say.”

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back, smiling up at him. “Thank you. For everything. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“You would’ve found your way,” he replies, his tone firm. “You always had it in you. I just gave you a little push.”

“A little?” You tease, and he laughs, the sound filled with warmth.

As the song comes to an end, Fernando pulls you into a tight hug, his hand resting protectively on the back of your head. “Remember, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“I know,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. “And I’ll always be here for you too.”

***

The antiseptic scent of the hospital hits Fernando the moment he steps into the delivery wing, mingling with the distant beeps of monitors and the hushed whispers of medical staff. It’s a familiar environment, yet so foreign to him. He’s used to the adrenaline rush of the pit lane, the roar of engines, the calculated chaos of racing — but this, this is something entirely different. He’s been in countless high-pressure situations, but none have ever felt like this.

As he makes his way down the hallway, his heart beats just a little faster than usual, his mind racing with thoughts of you, of Oscar, and of the tiny new life that’s just come into the world. When he reaches the door of your room, he hesitates for the briefest of moments, his hand hovering over the door handle.

It’s not that he’s nervous — Fernando Alonso doesn’t get nervous — but there’s something about this moment that feels monumental, like the start of a new chapter in a book he didn’t even realize he was writing.

He pushes the door open slowly, stepping into the room with a soft smile. The room is bathed in a warm, gentle light, far removed from the harsh brightness of the hallway. It’s quiet, peaceful, with only the faint hum of machinery and the soft breaths of the newborn breaking the silence.

You’re lying in the bed, looking tired but radiant, with a tiny bundle cradled in your arms. Oscar is beside you, his hand resting protectively on your shoulder, his eyes filled with awe and love. When you see Fernando, your face lights up, and despite the exhaustion etched into your features, there’s a warmth in your smile that makes his heart swell.

“Fernando,” you say softly, your voice hoarse but filled with joy. “Come meet him.”

He steps closer, his eyes drawn to the small figure in your arms. The baby is tiny, impossibly so, wrapped in a soft blue blanket, with a tuft of dark hair peeking out. Fernando’s breath catches in his throat as he looks down at the baby, his heart pounding in a way that’s both unfamiliar and entirely overwhelming.

“He’s perfect,” Fernando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

Oscar grins, nodding in agreement. “We think so too.”

You shift slightly, holding the baby out toward Fernando. “Would you like to hold him?”

For a moment, Fernando hesitates. He’s held championship trophies, gripped the steering wheel at speeds that would make others blanch, but this? This is different. This is fragile, delicate, something that requires a gentleness he’s not sure he possesses. But when he sees the trust in your eyes, he nods, carefully taking the baby into his arms.

The weight is nothing — featherlight, almost — but it’s enough to make his hands tremble just the slightest bit. He cradles the baby close, his eyes wide as he studies the tiny features: the small nose, the delicate eyelids, the impossibly small fingers curled into little fists. The baby stirs slightly, his mouth opening in a silent yawn before settling back into a peaceful sleep.

“What’s his name?” Fernando asks, his voice thick with emotion.

You exchange a glance with Oscar before looking back at Fernando, your smile widening. “His name is Theodore,” you say softly, “Theodore Fernando Piastri.”

Fernando’s breath catches, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a moment, he’s speechless, his mind struggling to process what he’s just heard.

“Fernando?” He repeats, his voice barely audible.

You nod, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “We wanted to honor you. You’ve been like a father to me, and now … now you’re going to be a part of his life too. It just felt right.”

Fernando stares at you, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride, love, and something else — something deeper, something he’s never quite felt before. He looks down at Theodore, his namesake, and for the first time in a long while, he feels his eyes prick with tears.

“You … you didn’t have to do that,” he says, his voice choked with emotion.

“But we wanted to,” Oscar says, his voice firm but kind. “You’ve done so much for us, for Y/N. It’s our way of saying thank you.”

Fernando swallows hard, nodding as he blinks back the tears threatening to spill over. He’s always prided himself on his control, on his ability to keep his emotions in check, but this — this is something else entirely. This is a depth of feeling he wasn’t prepared for.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice thick. “It means … it means more to me than you can ever know.”

He looks back down at Theodore, his heart full to bursting. The baby stirs again, his tiny fingers twitching, and Fernando smiles, the tears finally spilling over as he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Grandpa Nando,” you say suddenly, your voice filled with affection. “That’s what we’re going to call you. How do you feel about that?”

Fernando lets out a laugh, the sound watery and full of joy. “I think I can get used to that,” he says, his voice trembling with emotion. “Grandpa Nando. I like it.”

You smile at him, your eyes soft with affection. “I’m glad. You’ve been a father figure to me, and now … now you get to be a grandfather to him.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, the weight of the moment settling over all of you. Fernando can’t stop staring at Theodore, can’t stop marveling at the tiny life in his arms. He’s held many titles in his life — champion, driver, mentor — but this, this feels different. This feels like the most important role he’s ever played.

As he stands there, cradling the tiny life in his arms, he feels a sense of peace settle over him. This is where he’s meant to be, here with you, with Oscar, with Theodore. He’s not just a mentor anymore; he’s family. And that, more than anything, is the greatest victory he’s ever achieved.

Finally, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, Fernando carefully hands Theodore back to you, his heart heavy with emotion. You take your son into your arms, holding him close as you smile up at Fernando, your eyes filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you say softly. “For everything. For being there for me, for guiding me, for … for being a part of our lives.”

Fernando shakes his head, a small, tearful smile on his lips. “No, thank you. You’ve given me more than I ever could have imagined. You — you and Oscar, and now Theodore — you’re my family. And there’s nothing more important to me than that.”

You reach out, taking his hand in yours, and for a moment, the two of you just stand there, connected by something deeper than words, deeper than racing, deeper than anything Fernando has ever known.

This is what it means to be family, he realizes. This is what it means to love, to care, to be there for each other, no matter what. And as he stands there, his heart full to bursting, he knows that this, more than any championship, more than any victory on the track, is what truly matters.

This is his greatest achievement.

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

Max Verstappen sitting comfortably - a series in 4 parts

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