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We all slowly peer over at TestME.
They’re fraternizing with the girls a bit, not getting too close so they at least know to be careful while the girls all laugh behind their hands, or giggle is more like it. I think I’m going to be sick.
“So many hormones.” Lucas says.
“So little time, apparently.” Rae adds. “I’m out. I’m starving, oh and Grace, do us all a huge favor and if you do manage to sneak in or out of the house and into Lucas’s room can you do us a huge solid and draw a detailed map of how to do it so we don’t get caught on camera.”
Grace hold ups her hand to Rae.
Frowning, he slaps it while they do their weird handshake. I’m so happy they’ve put the past behind them, now they act like angry siblings, hilarious if you ask me. “Please, I’m no amateur, I already emailed you guys not just a detailed version of how to avoid most of the camera, but I drew a treasure map to a hidden stash of soju hidden in the field out back by the swings.”
“So many small blessings in such a loud package.” Kai winks at her.
Lucas gives Kai a look that says back the hell off even though I know it’s all in good fun.
“Let’s go.” Rae sounds as tired as I feel. Slowly and surely we all walk past TestME and out the doors, they follow us like little angry puppies who grew up with nothing but privilege.
Chul shoves past me, elbowing me and then smiling down at the concrete. “Sorry, bro, it was an accident.”
I just keep walking until we get into the actual house we’re supposed to be staying in and get bumped by the rest of the members as I look up at our new prison.
It’s super modern with a huge stairway that explodes down the right and left, only to lead into an entry way that has a full view of the living room, outdoor kitchen, and infinity pool. The doors leading out are envelope doors that are already folded back. Torches are lit around the pool and a spread of alcohol and food is out front.
“It’s like we stepped onto Love Island,” Rae says next to me under his breath while the younger group runs forward and starts eating and pouring drinks.
“Yeah.” I’m not feeling it. “I think if it was Love Island there’d be more love.”
“Filming.” Kai says under his breath. “Everything you do and say can be used against you.”
“So no yelling, oh hey dip shit…” Lucas says not so helpfully. Damn, I need to get my attitude under control.
I shoot him a glare for good measure and notice he’s clearly baiting me with the knowing smile on his face. He probably, really does know the most, which is all Grace’s fault considering our friendship. “I would never.”
I force a smile I don’t feel. “I’m the innocent one, remember?”
Yeah, because that didn’t come across like a total lie.
His raised eyebrows say it all as he follows Jay toward the food and drinks outside, while I’m still waiting near the doorframe, ready to bolt in the opposite direction.
At least they’re giving us alcohol to numb the pain of what’s about to happen, I’m not sure I like it, but I don’t really have a choice as I follow the rest of the guys.
Everyone’s playing nice, but I know that it’s going to be horrible living with the other group.
They hate us, we hate them.
And now we have to play like we actually enjoy each other for two straight weeks. We have to do this in case we lose both fandoms to an all-out war, because that’s what happens when fandoms fight, not just hate posts, but all out fake or fabricated photos and text messages.
If we don’t play nice, we could end up becoming serial killers. Not that I wouldn’t put it past at least Suho to stage some fake blood drop a knife and say I stabbed him.
He glances over at me, his dark long hair covering one eye while the other stares me down like he knows exactly what I’m thinking while he plots ways to do things behind cameras to make us all suffer.
He’s one of the oldest at twenty-one and has the maturity of a small pebble that gets stuck in your shoe as you walk across concrete. At least that’s how he’s always been perceived, then again, I appear to be pure as the driven snow, so we all have our parts to play.
Sometimes, I think mine sucks the worst.
Eric clears his throat. “How about we play a drinking game?”
Might not be the worst idea. “Sure.” I bite. “Let’s.”
