My weekend is ruined before I even open my eyes. My phone is screaming at me. I blindly grope around under my pillow, groggy as hell, until my fingers find it. I squint at the screen. Hee-Ra. Too early. Too loud. Too much. Nope.

I drop the phone on my face when it rings again. The second attempt rattles my already fragile will to live. With a deep groan, I roll over, answering with the dying breath of someone who just lost their last shred of hope.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Time for you to wake the hell up.” Her voice is far too chipper for whatever ungodly hour this is. She enjoys this. She thrives on my misery.

I peel open an eye, blearily glancing at the time. 8:47 AM. On a goddamn weekend.

“I hate you,” I groan into my pillow. “Hee-Ra. It’s. The. Weekend.”

“You’ll hate me more if you’re late. You have forty-five minutes to get ready.”

“What—” I bolt upright so fast I almost get whiplash. “Excuse me?!”

“PR meeting. 10 AM sharp. Don’t be late.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You do realize it’s the weekend, right? As in, the days normal people sleep?”

“Do I sound like I care?”

“You never do,” I grumble, rubbing my face.

“Exactly. You signed a contract. Your soul is ours now. Now move your ass. And try to look like an actual human being instead of whatever feral state you usually wake up in.”

I scowl. “Remind me to burn that contract.”

She ignores me. “You better be in the car when Vortex’s manager picks you up.”

I flop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. This is my life now. I hear Hee-Ra sigh over the phone. “I can feel you contemplating bad decisions. Get up, Naomi. I swear to god—”

“Fine, fine,” I grumble, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. “I’m moving.”

“Good. And don’t show up looking like a gremlin.”

I blink. “...I always look like a gremlin.”

“Fix it.”

The line goes dead. I resist the urge to chuck my phone across the room. Instead, I drag myself to my feet, glaring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is an absolute disaster. My oversized t-shirt is sliding off my shoulder. My face? One hundred percent feral. I rub my eyes, debating my life choices. Forty-five minutes. Barely enough time to make myself look presentable, let alone mentally prepare for a round of corporate PR hell.

Maybe if I just show up looking like a wreck, they’ll reconsider the whole thing.

…Probably not. 

Grumbling under my breath, I shuffle toward my closet, grabbing the first outfit I see. If I have to suffer, I’m doing it in sweatpants.

Stumbling out of my room, I squint at the absurd brightness of the living room. I feel like a gremlin being forcibly dragged into daylight. My hair is a mess, my sweatshirt is oversized enough to drown in, and I’m pretty sure my socks don’t match. Whatever. Functioning is optional at this hour. Seon’s eyes light up the moment he sees me.

“Noona!” His entire face transforms into one of pure delight, like he’s just seen the most adorable thing on the planet. “Look at you! So soft! So cute!”

I scowl. “I will end you.”

Jae takes one look at me and loses it. He’s already leaning against the couch for support, wheezing between laughs. “Oh my god, this is gold. You look like a sleep-deprived raccoon.”

I push past him, making a beeline for the dining table. “You look like a trust fund brat whose biggest struggle is deciding which luxury car to crash next.”

Jae just smirks, completely unbothered. “And yet, somehow, you still find me irresistible.”

I scoff, dropping into a chair. “Delusional.”

Across the room, Min remains silent, arms crossed, gaze steady. Watching me. Not like Jae—amused and teasing—but with a quiet curiosity, like I’m an equation he hasn’t quite solved yet. I ignore him, reaching for the toast on the table. 

Then Min speaks. “Go change.”

I blink, mid-bite. “What?”

Min doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. Just gives me that look. “Change into something presentable.”

I slowly lower my toast. “Excuse me?”

He exhales sharply, like he already regrets engaging. “We’re leaving soon. You can’t go out looking like that.”

Seon tilts his head. “What’s wrong with how she looks?”

Min shoots him a do not encourage this look. “If someone is out there, taking sneaky pictures—paparazzi, a crazy fan—this is what they’ll see.” He gestures at me. “And this is what will go online.”

I frown, shoving another bite of toast into my mouth. “So?”

Min’s jaw tightens. “So we need to sell this relationship. Every moment counts. Even if it’s just stepping outside to get into the car.” 

I swallow, unimpressed. 

“A picture is shot in a second.” His gaze sharpens. “And a second is all it takes for someone to turn that image into a headline.”

I stare at him, waiting for him to back down. He doesn’t. He just stands there, arms crossed, completely composed. Ugh. Infuriating.

Jae grins. “C’mon, sweetheart. You wouldn’t want the world to think Min’s girlfriend is a disaster first thing in the morning, would you?”

I shoot him a glare. “I am a disaster first thing in the morning.”

Seon nods enthusiastically. “That’s what makes you cute.”

Min sighs. “Just go change.”

I huff, shoving my chair back dramatically as I stand. “Fine. But if I see even one article about me looking ‘unworthy’ of your fake ass, I’m blaming you.”

Min doesn’t react. “Duly noted.”

I stomp back toward my room, muttering under my breath.

Jae calls after me. “Make it something cute! Maybe a short skirt!”

Slamming the door behind me with more force than necessary. Min and his PR logic. Min and his stupid unreadable face. Min and his stupid valid points. Dragging a hand down my face, I trudge toward my closet. Fine. I’ll suffer for my back account. Think about the merch, think about the merch.

I swap the sweatpants for a short, flowy dress and layer a cropped vest over it. The heels in my hand already feel like a mistake, but whatever. Light makeup, high ponytail—just enough effort to shut Min up. When I step back out, the room quiets. Jae lets out a low whistle. Seon’s brows shoot up. Min? No reaction. Typical. I glare at him anyway, holding up the heels like a weapon. “Happy now?”

Min doesn’t even blink. “Passable.”

Before I can throw something at him, Jisoo speaks from his spot against the wall, voice as unreadable as ever. “You clean up nicely.”

I blink. Jisoo just… complimented me? I narrow my eyes. “Was that a backhanded compliment?”

He shrugs. “Take it however you want.”

Seon, ever the disruptor, stretches out on the couch, arms draped over the backrest. “Now that we’ve established that noona is, in fact, capable of dressing like a functioning member of society—”

I cut him off. “Coffee.”

Seon raises a brow, smirking. “Did you ask for coffee, noona? Because I don’t recall hearing a single ‘please.’”

I narrow my eyes. “Did I ask for your attitude?”

Seon gasps, clutching his chest. “And yet, here I am, generously offering my services.” He tilts his head, grinning. 

I groan, dropping next to him on the couch. “Seon.” I say, sounding as exhausted as I feel. 

His grin widens. “Say the magic word.”

“Die.”

He chuckles. “Close enough. How do you take it, noona? Black like your soul? Or do you secretly drink it all sweet and fluffy?”

I peek up at him, debating whether I have the energy to argue. “Two sugars. A little bit of milk.”

Seon lights up like I just gave him a gold star. “Aha! Sweet and soft. Just as I suspected.”

I roll my eyes. “Just make the damn coffee.”

He practically skips toward the kitchen, humming under his breath. “Coming right up, my dear grumpy noona!”

I squint at him suspiciously. “Why are you so energetic this early?”

“I thrive in chaos,” he replies cheerfully, already making my coffee with practiced ease. He hands me the cup, wide-eyed and eager, like a puppy waiting for approval.

I take a sip. It’s… really good. Suspiciously good. I lower the cup, eyeing him warily. “What do you want?”

Seon gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. “Can’t I just do something nice for you?”

“No.”

He grins. “We’re going to have fun today, noona.”

I take another sip, sighing. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Oh, it absolutely is.”