Chapter Text
Let’s get one thing straight: Jeongguk had no interest in being on a reality TV show.
He sent in the audition tape as a dare from his coworker and best friend after a long night of drinking, thinking nothing of it because only hot yet cool meatheads and bimbos get selected for this kinda shit, not boring guys like him and the producers will definitely decline the moment they look at him. But one fine day, Jeongguk gets an email saying he’s passed the preliminary auditions and has to come in for an in-depth interview, which he somehow passes as well, and the next thing he knows is he’s leaving his cozy apartment in Busan for a random island close to Seoul to laze around the beach, participate in challenges and compete for a chance to win a truckload of money.
And he is regretting his decisions very much.
See, people must realize that reality TV shows are fake as hell. Between every take of people doing absolutely butt-fuck nothing in a fancy location or nearly killing each other for money, there is constant producer instigation and involvement.
“That girl called you a bitch. Go say something to her.”
“Your friend said he’s interested in your girl. You should tell him off.”
“If you don’t start a fight in ten seconds, we’re kicking you off the show without an explanation.”
That entertaining argument that made your jaw drop? Yeah, 99% chance it was produced for the show and possibly scripted by a professional writer. Ironically, reality TV is the farthest from reality which is paradoxical but the hard truth beneath all the glitz and glamor.
Which brings Jeongguk to his next point: why he hasn’t left despite talking shit so far. The short and sweet answer is simply: money. He needs it. He’s got bills to pay, places to go, gaming consoles to buy and a very cute dog back home to spoil with all of the useless yet cute things he deserves. By appearing on this show, he’s getting paid handsomely and the longer he stays, the more his bank balance increases. If he wins, he becomes filthy rich and well, there’s no downside to that, is there?
So for the sake of monetary gain, Jeongguk is sticking this through and he’s hating every second of it.
Because not only is this an overly-scripted and produced yet boring TV show about six hot people on an island but it’s also a dating show.
Yay!
Love Royale’s premise involved taking nine single people to a remote island and essentially forcing them to like each other like some sort of dystopian novel except no one is killing each other (yet). There are challenges and games that can give a person the chance to leave the primitive island life for a cool, hip, date in the city. At the end of each week, singles are asked to join forces as a couple and whoever is left behind is kicked off the show. New people are brought on often as potential love interests for those already in a couple to stir up some trouble or for those who have yet to find their perfect partner. Those new add-ins are either extremely hot or great at starting drama; most of the time both since that’s what makes great television.
In the case of Jeongguk, he doesn’t cause drama and he isn’t in a couple so he had to find another way to keep the money incoming.
And he managed to get lucky. He made a friend among his castmates.
A select few of his castmates were somewhat nice but they were older and Jeongguk tends to clam up around older people. His instinct is to be polite even if they ask him to drop the honorifics and be casual when it isn’t in his nature due to the way he was raised. His friend was his age, born a few months older, but he was similar to Jeongguk, which made becoming a friendship couple a lot easier.
He doubts the audience was shocked when he said he was partnering with Kim Mingyu during the partnering ceremony. They hit it off quickly and are seen spending time with each other a lot. Jeongguk is positive there are people out there expecting something from them; that they’re secretly in love and in denial but he hates to break it to everyone, they are only friends who want to prolong their stay on the show.
Besides, Mingyu has his own shit to deal with.
“Why won’t she just look at me, man,” Mingyu whines, lying flat on the beach chairs hidden underneath a large umbrella as he stares at the girls doing their morning yoga. “I confessed to her last night and she hasn’t said one word to me since.”
Jeongguk holds back a snort, focusing his attention on his dark coffee (no milk or sugar because he’s that kind of guy) while his pencil moves gently across the paper of his sketchbook. “Exactly, it’s been one day. Relax and let her figure it out.”
That’s the thing about friendship couples; they aren’t long-lasting or trustworthy.
At any point, Mingyu and his dream girl, a self-proclaimed vixen named Yeonjin who loves dumb pretty boys, could get together and Jeongguk could be all alone, threatened to get kicked off and have his steady money supply cut.
With the way things have started out with those two, he thinks he has a few more days until she gives in to his incessant whining but Jeongguk’s time is bound to come to an end. There’s no way the people watching actually care about his success on the show. Every time his face appears on screen, they must be pressing fast forward. Obviously.
Mingyu turns his head, locks of dark hair falling over his eyes. “I know you aren’t giving me love advice right now.”
“You’re the one complaining. I’m just trying to shut you up.”
His friend sits up, feigning an apology. “Oh, I’m so sorry that my pain is bothering you. I’ll go deal with it somewhere else so you aren’t inconvenienced.”
“Thanks,” Jeongguk winks, going back to his coffee and biting back a smile listening to his friend sigh in frustration. His eyes dance over his rough sketch of the creeping waves over hot sand, leaving little dots of white shells and slowly dehydrating seaweed for Jeongguk to scratch in to complete his drawing.
It’s a beautiful day. The sky is a bright blue, the ocean is loud, the sand is soft, and the weather is not disgustingly hot for once. Jeongguk loves days like these back in Busan. He’d walk Bam along the coast, play some frisbee and then treat himself to some barbecue after a long shift. The air would smell perfect; like the ocean, sunscreen, and something green all at once. Even though Jeongguk detests the summer, the smell of summer is innately nostalgic.
But it’s hard to enjoy days like this with 50 billion cameras and crew swarming you every ten seconds.
Thankfully, most of them are focused on either the group of girls doing the Surya Namaskar or the other guys hounded around the kitchen area behind Jeongguk, apparently discussing something very very important. Groundbreaking discoveries are happening there and he easily could join those juiceheads as they rate protein powders or whatever but he’d rather not. Jeongguk is maintaining his peace by staying out of the drama and participating as little as possible. The only time Jeongguk would care is if there were any games or competitions but so far, there’s been nothing.
He wakes up by the beach, eats, works out, draws when he can, and goes to bed by the beach. Rinse and repeat.
Mingyu nudges his side gently to break him out of his focus. “Are you seriously not trying at all?” He asks once more. Jeongguk thinks he might hit him the next time he asks. “Hyejin said–”
“I know what she said,” Jeongguk interrupts, disinterested in having this conversation for the nth time. If it isn’t with Mingyu, it’s with someone from the staff, and he’s over it. He talked to the girl already and he isn’t budging even after hearing her out. “I’m not interested.” He shuts his sketchbook completely, casting it aside, no longer in the mood to draw even when the view looks so good.
The memory of last night is still fresh in his mind. Jeongguk remembers her hand tugging at the bottom of his shirt, leading him to a private corner to try “get to know him.” He answered her questions honestly, attempting to ignore the motion-censored cameras turning to their bodies and the sounds of staff surrounding them like hungry hyenas to a pair of young zebras. But when she uttered those three words, he felt his entire body deflate.
Hyejin is nice. Sweet, a beautiful person to take home to meet your parents which doesn’t really apply to him, but she’s the all-around perfect girl-next-door type. He’s well aware that there are others guys on this cast that have their eyes on her and this would be his perfect opportunity to secure his place by lying about having feelings towards her but he couldn’t. Jeongguk didn’t want to lead her on. Despite his cynicism, Jeongguk believes that Hyejin deserves to be happy and he simply isn’t the guy for her. So he gave a half-baked response of needing to think about it before scurrying off in a panic only to overhear her complaining half an hour later that a producer forced her to pretend to confess to him and she still managed to get shot down.
And Jeongguk’s heart fell all the way down to his heels. Ugly feelings from high school resurfacing when the popular kids would dare each other to sit with him or ask him out in order to embarrass him or to make each other laugh.
Because of course it wasn’t real. Why on earth would someone fall in love with someone like Jeongguk? Especially on this fuck ass show.
It’s impossible to actually fall in love with someone in an environment like this. Where everything is fake and produced. Jeongguk doesn’t think for a second that these love couples actually like each other. They’re just like him: in it for the money, for the fame, and for the followers.
The moment the cameras shut off and everything is all wrapped up in a pretty bow, the facade ends. All of the couples will split, keeping the Instagram following of course, and everyone will move on. The end.
So none of this matters. Jeongguk will walk off his island richer and just as alone as he was when he entered. Not a problem for him.
“What if Yeonjin says yes to me? What then?” Mingyu prods, sitting up on his beach chair. His shirt parts to reveal tanned skin, the thin chain on his neck moving with him. It’s plausible, he is her type and he’s been more than vocal about her feelings for him but Jeongguk isn’t all that worried.
Unlike Mingyu, he doesn’t care if his time on this show is cut short.
Jeongguk shrugs, playing with the frayed edges of the cloth covering his chair. “Then I’ll go home. I miss my dog anyways.” Little shit is probably chewing up all of his cushions but that’s okay.
This isn’t real. This isn’t real love. He won’t be hurt if he leaves this place alone.
His friend turns on drama queen mode and grips the front of Jeongguk’s t-shirt like a lifeline. “Oh, so you’re just going to walk away after everything we’ve been through?” Mingyu wails, putting on one of his dramatic scenes again. “After I loved you? What about our lighthouse date–”
“–Never happened.” Jeongguk cuts in, sipping on his lukewarm coffee.
“–or that time we promised we would never leave each other on the banks of the Seine? What about our vows? Did you even care about me?”
“Where are you getting these from?”
“I watch a lot of shoujo anime,” he answers simply. Jeongguk just rolls his eyes in response. Mingyu lets go of the shirt and relaxes back into his chair. His deep exhale is louder than the crashing waves. “Seriously, Jeongguk. I know you don’t care about falling for anyone here but can’t it kill you to just try?”
Yes, he wants to say. Quite literally it will kill him. From the inside out, like a small parasite, only to destroy him and leave him immobile and bed-ridden until he’s begging for it to stop.
He sighs. “Look, I don’t want to. I’m perfectly fine with how things are right now.”
This is easy. He’s coasting, doing the bare minimum and making money from it which is exactly what reality TV entails. Why force a spark if there is none there.
Jeongguk looks over at the girls who are done with their yoga classes. Objectively, they are beautiful. Long hair, soft skin, painted lips and bubbly giggles. No matter how disinterested he is, he’s got eyes and he can surely appreciate beauty. He imagines himself going to their family’s house, eating dinner and joking and making new memories; it’s the stereotypical straight man’s dream but Jeongguk is not the stereotypical straight man.
Although he doesn’t like labels, he much prefers men, and while the guys on here are alright, they definitely aren’t Jeongguk’s type.
The aforementioned juiceheads, Jeongguk and Mingyu make up the male cast. Most of the guys are gym junkies with bulging tattooed arms and chiseled stomachs and commitment issues that need lots of therapy to fix. That type of guy is more so the kind of guy Jeongguk would like to become with age (minus the commitment issues).
He likes them pretty. A little soft on the sides, tall and the kind he can dote on. The cute types that laugh at his shitty jokes and don’t mind a night in every now and then.
None of these guys fit that description. More than half of them are straighter than a flagpole. Jeongguk told production about this and they had promised to bring in more diverse people but so far, he’s drowning in a sea of heterosexuality.
“Okay, one more,” his friend tries, chugging the rest of his coffee down. “What if someone comes along and they’re your type and they select you for a date and you really get along? What then? You're gonna continue to not care?”
Jeongguk shifts his gaze to the person lying next to him. His own cup sits sadly ignored in his hands, plastic rim pressing into the meat of his exposed thigh. He hates that stupid hypothetical makes waves of goosebumps dust all over him. Like he isn’t an adult with full control over his bodily reactions.
Someone who is his type. Someone who is patient enough to not push him too far, likes what he likes and loves him for him.
Someone Jeongguk could get comfortable enough to tell them his life story.
Could someone like that manage to find their way onto this show?
His head shakes. “I doubt that’ll happen.”
“I know man, that’s why I said what if ,” he emphasizes the last word with a spitty press on the f. Jeongguk backs away from the splatter. “They’re everything you ever wanted. Some love at first type shit.” He lists on.
Love?
Jeongguk has been in love once in his life. Back in college, when he was young and angry at the world. He found someone that did all of those things and more. It wasn’t anything real or concrete or long lasting, but it was the first time in his life someone had made him feel like that.
But then, shit happened and Jeongguk lost him. And when that shit eventually turned on its head and Jeongguk had to figure out a new path in life, he assumed that this new path would be one he’d walk all alone until the very end.
Maybe he’d move on, find another person to love who will love him for him. Maybe he doesn't have to go to bed every night convincing himself that he’s better off alone but Jeongguk knows it’s hard to love him. He’s made sure of it, whether he meant to or not. All of those walls he’s got up, made with sarcasm and general politeness when necessary, tends to push people away. Especially those who want something quick. Jeongguk isn’t easy and most people prefer easy. Effortless yet romantic; sweet and soft and sugary guys like melting caramel filling inside a truffle. Someone straight out of a romance novel written by a woman.
Jeongguk is more-so the zingy lemon curd filled chocolate truffle in the assorted box. The one that no one is willing to try, the one that gets thrown away with the box and left alone to fucking rot
His next gulp is dry and heavy. Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut when he feels the familiar tickle in his nose and lump wedged in his throat. He is not fucking crying. Not in front of Mingyu and not surrounded by cameras and crew. Not in front of anyone.
“I…I don’t know,” Jeongguk lies. “It depends but I guess I’ll be different.”
He’d try to be warmer but that’s about it.
Mingyu studies him. Jeongguk wonders if he can tell that his overthinking and reminiscing made him emotional, that a small layer was peeled back without even knowing, but thankfully he doesn’t comment on it.
“Good to know,” he nods, short and simple. Then something catches his attention behind Jeongguk. The jovial smile on his lips begins to crumble at the sides and Jeongguk can only imagine what is happening behind him.
He almost turns slowly like a scene in an action movie when the characters are crossing train tracks and realize that a train is speeding towards them faster than usual but an annoyingly familiar voice cuts to the chase for him.
“Jeongguk-ssi, production wants to talk to you in the tent. Could you follow me, please?”
He looks up to find one of the producer’s assistants, looking frazzled, overworked, and tired as always, urging him over. Her hair is sticking out in tufts from her bun and her eyeliner is smudged under her eyes like she was just crying buckets before coming over to him.
Turning to Mingyu with confusion in his eyes, Jeongguk carefully gazes back at her. “Why? What happened?”
Usually, production sets up meetings for two reasons: either you’ve majorly fucked up or you need to cause some drama.
Jeongguk has no idea which version he’s about to get. Either way; he’s fucked.
The assistant just smiles exhaustedly, gritting her teeth when she speaks. “Just please come with me. I can’t explain it just yet but if you aren’t in the tent in one minute, I’ll get yelled at again which will cut into my lunch break and I am ravenously hungry so so if you could just get–”
“ Okay, okay! I’ll go, jeez,” he throws his hands up in frustration. “Don’t have to emotionally manipulate me.” Jeongguk gets up from his chair, feeling guilty for getting mad at the poor starved employee who’s just doing her job that clearly doesn’t pay her enough, but the nervousness in his tummy squashes it. He takes his sketchbook with him. Jeongguk sort of trusts Mingyu to hold back from peeking but not the others. “It was nice knowing ya’ buddy.”
Mingyu stands up and salutes him, puffing his chest out like a soldier. “It was an honor, admiral.” He bows slowly, looking up halfway to find Jeongguk flipping him off before walking to the production tent.
Still no cameras on them, which is a relief. Jeongguk’s back is sweaty from the chair and he’s sure his hair is a mess since he let it air dry last night so he’s nowhere near camera ready, not like anyone would care, right?
He looks over at the commotion. Two guys are doing push-ups with girls on their backs, trying to see who can stay on the longest with their partner or crush sitting on them. Giggles fill the air while the others time the two guys competing, chanting and egging the others on. His lips curl in distaste at the sight with so many cameras pointed on it, at the animalistic, primitive behavior being put on play for the sake of entertainment.
Yeah, there’s no fucking way he’s doing anything like that. No. Way. Even if there’s a fat check attached to it.
Jeongguk passes the cabins where they sleep, walking further along the shore until the small tents hidden from all cameras are placed. Large white canvas swooping over, where all of the staff stays until filming wraps up in the late evening and they all take ferry rides back home in their comfy apartments. He peels the entrance back to find the producers sitting around a table with icy beers, cigarettes, and McDonald’s bags covered in grease spots strewn around.
At 10am.
“Ah! Jeongguk-ssi, please come in,” Jang motions towards him with a bright smile. Her hair swirling with the large fan cooling her down.
She was the one who did his second interview since she’s the main producer of this entire shitshow. Jeongguk remembers her soft eyes peering into him as he danced around each question and gave a bullshit answer. He left that thing thinking he bombed it and he was glad about it only to hear back from Jang a week later that he made it onto the show. Part of him wonders if she saw through him and decided to include him as a form of payback for that interview but even Jeongguk doesn’t think someone can be that vindictive.
Curiously, he begins looking about the tent housing various filming equipment, chairs, and bags as he sits. Then he’s staring at the packet of cigarettes in the middle of the table. It’s slid over to him immediately afterwards and Jeongguk is ushered to take one.
“Don’t be nervous,” another member of the production team gushes. “We want you to be comfortable around us. There are no cameras in here,” they remind him.
But even then, the vibes are off.
Hesitantly, Jeongguk takes a single cigarette out of the package when it is nudged towards him. He’s been pretty on and off about smoking ever since college. Placing the filter between his lips, lighting the end and taking a long drag soothes that rumbling in his stomach. Nicotine fills his lungs, burning just a bit, and Jeongguk turns his head to the sides to exhale softly.
There’s something so cathartic about blowing smoke out of your mouth. He doesn’t know why but it’s one of his favorite things to watch.
Jeongguk takes a few drags. The small space is contained with the stench of smoke and a little bit of grease. No one seems to mind as they watch old episodes on a laptop and scroll through sleek iPads for hours on end like minions in a factory. Jeongguk is slightly concerned about the status of their eyesight.
“So, Mingyu and Yeonjin will be getting together soon,” Jang starts, tapping her red nails on the surface of the table while smoking with her other hand. “She’s going to say yes to him tomorrow evening and there will be another partnering ceremony the next day.”
Jeongguk nods, taking another inhale. “Cool. I can keep a secret.” While pretending to be nonchalant, he blooms on the inside. Mingyu will get the girl of his dreams after all. Good for him.
“But that’ll leave you all alone.”
He blinks at her a few times, expression unreadable which is impressive honestly. Jeongguk wants to know if she really called him over here to tell him this because that doesn’t seem likely.
His hand pauses on the way up to his mouth, smoke filtering from the stick between his fingers.
“I’m aware,” the noises outside are muffled but still audible, resounding cheers meaning someone must’ve won the contest. “So, am I getting kicked off?” He hopes the twinge of eagerness in his tone isn’t obvious.
Finally! Jeongguk can sleep in his bed, stare at the walls of his apartment, see Bam, and go back to a normal world where he can shit in peace without worrying about a lens shoved in his face.
Producer Jang just smiles in response. “Quite the opposite.” She squishes the half-finished cigarette into the teal ashtray sitting by her like snuffing out a poor little bug. Jeongguk starts to feel a bit squeamish. “To put it lightly, Jeongguk, you’re a fan favorite. The general public loves you.”
What.
“Excuse me?” Jeongguk gapes, nearly dropping his cigarette. He swears his entire body goes boneless. “A fan favorite? Me?”
In his entire 25 years of living, Jeongguk has never been anyone’s favorite. Half of the time, he assumes he’s simply unlikeable. Besides his father and maybe three others, people don’t like him. He’s prickly and guarded and no one likes that. They want him to open up, make jokes, and initiate conversation. Those are the types of people that warrant public love. Not people like Jeongguk.
Jang nods and ashes from Jeongguk’s cigarette fall to the surface of the table. “But… how? I didn’t even do anything,” he unfortunately quotes Mingyu but the guy is right. Jeongguk made sure he wasn’t attracting attention. “I haven’t flirted with anyone or been in any sort of love triangle or any drama. I’m barely on camera as it is.”
An assistant pipes up, flipping open the case of her iPad. “You appeal to an untapped yet large demographic mainly consisting of our international viewers and a decent portion of Korean viewers. Thorough analysis has led us to believe that it’s a combination of your delicate facial features, strong build, tattoos and piercings paired with the fact that you’ve remained relatively drama free and are shown to be a good friend to Mingyu that make them like you,” regurgitating lines like it’s coming straight from a master’s thesis.
She slides the iPad over to Jeongguk and he meekly scrolls through screenshots of forums, Twitter threads, articles, etc. all talking about him. Some are commenting on the nature of his relationship with Mingyu, talking about how Jeongguk was the one who told Mingyu to be honest by telling Yeonjin how he really feels instead of pretending to be an overly masculine dickhead because she should like him for him. Calling him a green flag for supporting open communication and honesty. Whatever. It’s not like he did any of that for the cameras, he can be a decent person when he wants to but this is the bare minimum.
Others are talking about the outfits he’s been sporting which, in Jeongguk’s opinion, aren’t anything special. He’s no fashion aficionado being someone who lives frugally. So his clothing consists of basic colors and baggy items from the clearance bin since he couldn’t be fucked to buy anything else but people seem to really like it.
“i need to raid this man’s closet forreal.” Followed by photos of Jeongguk in oversized ripped jeans, a white tank and a flannel shirt or khaki colored cargos and a large dark t-shirt like it isn’t the most basic pieces ever. You could find these at literally any store right now.
But most are straight up thirst tweets or edits with rather concerningly horny captions.
Jeongguk coming out of an ocean swim, rivulets of water traveling down his stomach, shaking his hair out of his eyes like a dog and laughing at whatever comment Mingyu made set to Need to Know by Doja Cat with various effects zooming in on parts of his body or face in a suggestive manner.
I heard from a friend of a friend, that dick was a 10/10.
The edit has over 300k likes and half a million bookmarks.
Or when Jeongguk stupidly decided to work out with the rest of the guys and the thick heat demanded he do so shirtless (also because everyone else was) and these people were literally barking and foaming at the mouth over his bare back.
What the fuck. What the actual fuck is happening right now.
“So,” he starts, shutting the iPad off. He can’t look at this anymore. “People like me because they think I’m attractive and a good friend?” Jeongguk repeats.
Is that it for people? Raise your standards everyone, come on.
“Exactly,” Jang leans in on her elbows to look Jeongguk directly in his eyes. “Which is why I think it’s in our best interest for you to stay on this show till the very end. Our ratings and viewers cannot drop right now and since most people are watching for you, there is no way you can leave at the next matching ceremony.”
Every ounce of happiness at the prospect of his leaving immediately dies on spot. Jeongguk was so excited to go back. To forget the hellscape that is this show but now he’ll have to suffer here for the last few days of filming.
“What, are you gonna break up Mingyu and Yeonjin? Because I don’t think that’s very fair.”
The producers share looks between each other before bursting into a collected loud fit of laughter while Jeongguk sits quietly in his chair like a child who doesn’t know better.
“Fair? Oh you sweet summer-child, this is show business. Nothing is fair here,” a male producer says this time. Jeongguk gets unbelievably irritated by his condescending tone. “You have to claw and climb and clamber your way to the top. Otherwise you’ll be forgotten. If Mingyu and Yeonjin want their happy ending, they have to work towards it and make the viewers care about them. But we have no interest in separating them for you.”
Something sickly churns in Jeongguk’s stomach. He crosses his arms back over his stomach and looks away from that one guy’s creepy smile. “Then what?”
He can’t imagine himself in place of the other couples. There’s a particular one that’s the definition of lovey-dovey and Jeongguk will most definitely not be sucking someone's face off in the early morning for a paycheck.
“We’ll be bringing in two new people. One girl and one guy who will be choosing two original cast members to go on a date with them. You are automatically going on one of those dates.”
So they are just going to choose that for him without asking him? What if Jeongguk isn’t interested in the guy? What if they spend the entire date in silence, what then?
He asks them this and all Jang does is smirk. “I’m not asking you to get married. If you don’t get along, we’ll make you for the cameras. Simple as that. Remember, you signed a contract meaning–”
Frustrated, Jeongguk slams his hand on the surface of the table. “I’m not some fucking puppet you can string along for shits and giggles,” shooting up out of his chair to stand because he’s taller and bigger than these people and this is one of the few times he can use that to his advantage. “If you want someone to act like they’ve just met the love of their life on some fuckass island, you’ve got the wrong guy, okay?”
Contract or not, Jeongguk is a person with autonomy. He doesn’t care what these people do but he isn’t going to appeal to their every whim like a dog running after a treat. He has some respect for himself.
Everyone stares at him with wide scared eyes, silence consuming the small tent completely. Some staff look a bit terrified but Jang remains untouchable. Even as she swallows and sets her jaw in place, she’s like a statue, not a hair out of place. Jeongguk wonders how someone can be so composed 24/7 while only surviving on cheap beer and greasy fast food.
“Like I was saying, you signed a contract which states that you cannot leave unless you provide evidence of a physical injury, mental health issue exacerbated by being on this show or family emergency. Until then, you are mine and you will do what I say. If I want you to fall hopelessly in love with a tree, you better listen,” she lists in a tone similar to a stern parent. “But I suppose if you are so utterly miserable on a private island away from all of the displeasures of modern society, you can just pay us 80,000,000₩ and I’ll be glad to call the ferry over.”
Jeongguk’s hand curls into a tight fist. He can’t believe this. There’s no way out of here.
He doesn’t have 80,000,000₩, certainly not yet that is. Last time Jeongguk checked, he had managed to save a little over half of that and he’s sure Jang isn’t about to set up an annual payment system with him. Besides, he has rent, bills to cover and a dog sitter to pay.
These contracts are tight for a reason. The 80,000,000₩ will act as compensation for the money lost if he leaves and he’s sure there are other clauses like not being able to talk about the show to anyone or denying his existence on it. Stupid shit to protect the reputation of the broadcasting company and what-not.
Is it really worth it to go through all of that trouble just to be alone?
Jeongguk already changed his life the moment he signed that stupid contract and agreed to be on the show. He knew that people would recognize him, search for his Instagram, that he’d be asked to go onto talk shows and pretend like he likes his castmates. He was trying to prepare for that during the first two weeks he was on the island but the severity of it is only really hitting now. There’s no way he can go back to normalcy, unless he wants to start all over again, and with nothing in his bank account
And he already did that. Life blew up in his face, ruined his one chance of becoming something, someone, and Jeongguk can’t do it again.
He’s lonely too. So very lonely.
No matter how much he runs, deep down, a part of Jeongguk does actually wish to settle down and be happy.
“So all I have to do is like one of the new people you’re bringing in?” He clarifies just one more time.
Jang seems to sense his reluctance disappearing and her harshness follows suit. “Yep, granted they like you too. This is a competition after all so you will have to do some wooing,” she explains, her tone now sweeter as she realizes that he’s about to give in. “But once you match with someone, we are going to make sure that you will be stuck on this show until the very last day of filming.”
To milk every cent from each viewer because that’s all Jeongguk is to these people; a way to get even disgustingly richer.
He hates himself for doing this, for not fighting harder, for getting wasted and signing up in the first place but there’s no point in regretting now.
Let’s hope whatever poor soul is roped into this demented form of entertainment is cool.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
🂴 🂴
Jeongguk stares at his reflection in the mirror of the makeup caravan, scrutinizing every imperfection that seems to scream out at him. He’s supposed to look good today because he’s going to be meeting the new cast members for a contractually obligated beach date soon. He might get bored to death and/or die of heatstroke but at least he’ll die looking dreamy! Afterall, his looks and body helped him survive on the show until now.
No one knows about the new people but him so the other contestant’s surprise will be real. However, Jeongguk will have to put on his acting hat for the sake of the cameras as the cast is called to the bonfire area. There, the host will come down to let them know about the two new cast members and which people they’ve selected to take on a date.
Jang made sure to let Jeongguk know that he was chosen by someone. And without coercion! Wow!
The dates are 30 minutes long each as the new people can only choose two original cast members to take. Then this evening there’s a matching ceremony. The new cast members can disrupt a couple, join a new one, or say they don’t want to match with anyone so they can all move on with their lives.
Jeongguk hated this whole charade when he first heard of it.
Part of him was overtaken by memories of high school when he was always chosen last for team games during PE or completing his science lab on his own because no one wanted to associate with him. He knows how painful it feels to be unwanted, to be an afterthought and forgotten.
It vexes him, angering his inner anarchists’ soul, but what can he do? He needs money, so if he has to pretend to enjoy the company of two conventionally attractive individuals, then so be it.
He just managed to finish paying off his father’s hospital bills and loans. There’s still so much debt he has to cover for and his job barely leaves him with a lot to spare.
One last look in the mirror, just to see if he looks presentable. A black button-up, loose around his arms to show off the various designs on his right arm, tucked into a pair of nice black pants and sandals because it’s too hot for any other pair of shoes. Jeongguk makes sure to fix the thin chain on his neck and bangs that fall over his forehead. His hair is fluffy, curled, and styled with product. Thin layers of makeup do the job of covering up years of bad breakouts and sleepless nights. At least his body is decent, not like Jeongguk is ever 100% satisfied with the way he looks.
A knock on his door shakes him out of his trance. Without waiting for his permission to come in, it opens and reveals a very bubbly Mingyu.
“Hey bestie,” he chirps, taking two steps in and flopping onto the makeup chair right next to Jeongguk. “Ready for filming?”
Jeongguk briefly glares at his bestie for putting his sand-crusted slides on the makeup countertop through the mirror. “Yeah, I guess so,” he mumbles, dropping his hands to his thighs and squeezing the mass. Enough primping, it’s showtime. “How was the confessional?”
Just before this, the poor guy was stuck filming in the confessional booth to talk about Yeonjin and his feelings. Jeongguk assumed Mingyu would cry considering he’s been doing that almost every night since he confessed to the girl but looking at him now, his eyes aren’t rimmed with red and he’s genuinely happy which is slightly concerning to Jeongguk.
The brunette leans in, a gentle smirk on his face. “Yeonjin kissed me afterwards,” he whispers, giggling at the end like a shy girl when Jeongguk raises his brows surprised. “Yeah, I know! She just pulled me aside, kissed me, and said that she can’t wait for us to get some alone time.”
All of the ice forming inside Jeongguk melts. He’s happy for Mingyu since his affinity for cold, mean, pretty girls has always bit him in the ass as an emotions-on-his-sleeve type of guy but now, his heartbreak is over.
He pats him on the shoulder. “That’s really great. I’m happy for you.” Earning a goofy smile in return, Jeongguk gets up and starts stretching his lower back by twisting around.
“Now all we need is your new perfect match and we can relax.”
Jeongguk stops, twisted to one side as if Mingyu took a bolt of lightning and shoved it into the sensitive part of his stomach. His entire body goes rigid and tight, overflowing with something acutely sardonic.
Mingyu is an optimist. He’s fun, the kind of guy that pulls a crowd around him, he’s cute and likable. He’s the type to think that he’s going to find his true love on this show because that's how it’s been engineered where as Jeongguk is the complete opposite.
In any other situation, he would’ve turned around and berated this entire thing, reminding the other person just how stupid it is but Mingyu is also his friend and Jeongguk isn’t the asshole he’s painted himself to be.
So he scoffs sadly, playing with the buckle on his belt instead. “Yeah, whatever.”
He’s not going to fall in love. Not ever again and certainly not on this show.
Soon, a staff member calls the two of them out of the makeup caravan and onto the bonfire area. The heat hits Jeongguk immediately and he feels beads of sweat form along the back of his neck, sliding down and no doubt ruining his makeup. He sighs as he treks through the scorching sand where benches surround a large fire pit and the TV host is getting powder patted onto his perfect face while holding cue cards. Jeongguk’s gaze lingers on him for a second.
Kim Seokjin is pretty, tall and charismatic. He looks like he’s come from a different planet altogether, as if his face was constructed by Aphrodite herself. If you were to really twist Jeongguk’s arm, he’d say that the host is more so his type than any of his cast members but the guy isn’t an option for him, is he now?
Jeongguk plops onto the spot next to Mingyu on the long wooden bench, grateful for the thick cushions to protect his sitting bones. Thick rays of sun come down on his back and he brings a hand up to fan himself, wishing more than anything that his hair was short and not like a giant black curtain on his already overheated body that’s been covered in black fabric. He looks around the place to distract himself.
A camera crane with the director perched on the chair while sipping some iced cold drink, staff running around with mini fans and doing touch-ups, and producers/directors conspiring in a little circle of doom underneath a cooling tent. It’s how he would describe hell, if he’s honest.
Jang manages to catch Jeongguk’s eyes and holds a thumbs up. Jeongguk turns his eyes away.
God, he just wants to go home. This is torture.
Maybe Jeongguk could take out another loan? That way he could pay Jang off and run away. But what bank can he visit all the way from here? He’s barely allowed to use his phone.
He could dip into some of the money his dad left him but it’s not a hefty amount to begin with and Jeongguk has saved that for emergencies only. This doesn’t call for one.
So all Jeongguk can really do is hope he breaks a bone or ruptures his appendix real fucking quick.
“We’ll start shooting in about three minutes everyone!” The director calls out. “Please find your seats.”
Jeongguk crosses one leg over the other, folding his arms over his stomach and keeps his gaze on the ground. He can feel the rest of the cast members joining from the confessional or from makeup. They seem to have formed their own clique, making jokes and being friendly with each other. They smile at Mingyu who is friendly with everyone but when their eyes fall onto Jeongguk it’s a different story.
“Oh hey, Donnie Darko. You clean up nice,” Seojoon remarks. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Park Seojoon is Jeongguk’s least favorite cast member. He’s pompous and rude and he genuinely had the confidence to appoint himself as the island’s It-Boy the first night they spent here, as well as incessantly hitting on every girl he found attractive while making the ones he didn’t feel inferior at the same time.
He’s a gaping asshole 24/7. The kind of guy that is inexplicably popular and well-liked despite his awful personality just because he’s rich and has a nice face. If Jeongguk could hit him, he would, but there’s way too much legal shit surrounding that and he cannot add a felony onto his stack of problems too.
Seojoon’s unbelievably hilarious comment earns quite a few giggles from the others. Especially Hyejin as she’s had her eye on him for a while and doesn’t like Jeongguk for rejecting her.
Mingyu doesn’t take it. “Fuck off.” His face twists up into genuine disgust.
“Oh, gladly,” the older man raises his hands up in faux-defeat. “Wouldn’t want to catch whatever he’s got going on.” Seojoon winks and goes over to the bench right behind theirs, muttering something under his breath that makes his posse laugh even louder than before as if he’s a damn comedian.
But Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. He never says anything.
It’s something he’s learned over the course of his life. Sometimes, it’s better to just let it pass. The harshness of their words, the sting of rejection and laughter being pointed at you and not alongside. There are always going to be mean people, in every facet of life, and it’s better to develop a thick skin early on to save yourself from unnecessary heartache.
“I hate him so much,” his friend next to him grits. “I swear one day he’s gonna get punched in the face and I hope I’m the one to do it.”
Jeongguk can feel the anger brimming from him but he doesn’t want Mingyu to fight his battles for him.
He’ll just get hurt in the end and he shouldn’t have to.
Gently, Jeongguk nudges his side with his elbow. “Drop it. He’s a slimy bastard living off of Daddy’s money and he’s never going to change.” He blinks rapidly with the onset of sour childhood memories invading his senses. “There’s no point in starting shit.”
Especially over someone like him. Like Jeongguk.
Mingyu opens his mouth to retort but the director starts shouting again and they have to go into filming mode, meaning no fights. The moment the camera starts recording they have to put on their masks and pretend like at least 4 people in their group don’t want to make someone else bleed. The crane is started and all of the staff run back to the cooling tent to watch with wide eyes.
Seokjin is filmed walking in front of the unlit fire pit with his hands gently tucked into his pockets. Cameras swirl around his delicate features as he tells the cast members about who will be joining the cast today.
“Two sexy newbies have been dropped onto the island and they are out for blood!” He coos in a TV host-like voice.
Like he rehearsed, Jeongguk turns to Mingyu with a bare glaze of surprise on his face. Eyebrows lifted, lips parted, jaw unhinged just a bit.
Wow, oh my gosh, I totally didn’t already know that!
The others are genuinely shocked. Jeongguk even has the displeasure of hearing Seojoon be excited for “fresh new meat,” while his arm is locked around the shoulders of a girl he said he wanted to go steady with. Asshat . He heard her shrug him off right afterwards which was very satisfying.
Seokjin continues. “The two new contestants have each chosen two cast members to take on dates. You will have 30 minutes with them and then tonight, there will be another matching ceremony. One person will be left without a partner and that person will be going home,” he narrates in an overly dramatic inflection.
Jeongguk can imagine how this scene must look to the viewers. Intense camera angle changes on each of their faces, repeated shots of someone looking overly shocked, heartbeat quickening music set in the background to amp up the tension that is nonexistent IRL.
There’s a quick cut between shots for extra powdering and primping before the reveal is filmed.
“The contestants chosen are Seojoon, Dahyun and,” Seokjin pauses for effect, looking down at his cue cards and then looking up, “Jeongguk.”
Lenses are now shoved so close to him they might as well be up Jeongguk’s nose. He feels the eyes of every cast member and staff member on him. Even the birds in the sky seem to be looking down and laughing at the pathetic travesty that is his life right now. The heaviness makes his head bow forward to hide the pinkness tinting his skin.
Mingyu slaps his back, goading him on, yelling in his ear that he’s the international playboy (a name Jeongguk very drunkenly used to refer to himself on the first night here and really regrets). Everyone seems to gape at him for managing to actually pull attention his way, like they never knew he was capable of exhibiting real human emotions or something.
He doesn’t blame them. Jeongguk still cannot get over the fact that the viewers actually like him. Strangers aren’t poking fun at him behind their backs but praising him instead. It’s unfamiliar.
“Wait but, that’s only three people,” Seojoon notes, standing up from his spot behind Jeongguk.
All of the brightness dims like a bucket of water thrown on the last few embers.
Mingyu turns back. “So what?” He asks, contempt dripping from his tone and only slightly from his features.
“So… if there’s two new members and they each have to choose two people, shouldn’t four of us be going?”
Right, that makes the most sense and it’s surprising that the voice of reason is a dumbass like Seojoon. Jeongguk picks his head up. He feels like his face is on fire and the heat isn’t fucking helping.
His anxiety gets the worst of him and he thinks that this is all just another big prank to remind him that he’s a loser, orchestrated by the cool kids who want to laugh at his demise, like he’s the punching bag all over again.
“Ah,” Seokjin finally seems to understand. “Well, if you must know, Jeongguk has been chosen twice by both new members.”
What?
“What,” Jeongguk repeats. “What do you mean chosen twice?”
That… that can’t–
“Seriously?” Seojoon’s chin pulls back, genuinely offended. “Him?” His finger points to Jeongguk’s sunken body and mild expression. “I’d understand me or…literally anyone else, but him? When was the last time Jeon talked to anyone besides Mingyu?”
“Okay, cut!” Jang juts in. The cameras shut off immediately much to the grumbling of the men using them and the staff just crosses the threshold to begin doing touch-ups but she stops them with a firm hand like the captain of an army. She walks forward, arms crossed over his stomach menacingly. “Is there a problem, Seojoon?”
Jang is terrifying when she wants to be. Poised perfection and a complete lack of impulsiveness make her impossible to read, like a tiger about to strike. Everyone is scared of her and Seojoon is no different. Even with his height and ego combined.
But he stands his ground, clearly upset that he wasn’t the one chosen twice.
“Well–”
She interrupts him. “If you’re so desperate to find out, Jeongguk is the most liked cast member of this season according to recent statistics. Many fans have been rooting for him to find someone on the cast that is fitting for him and most want him to win.” She tilts her head, mocks him. “Which I know must be shocking to you because somehow, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re the king of this jungle so you should be pulling the most attention and you deserve the grand prize but that’s quite the opposite. The viewers find you irritating, red-flaggy, and impossible to like.”
He says nothing in response. All of his posse, his yes-men, they’re all reduced to silence as Jang obliterates this guy’s confidence in a single sentence.
It’s honestly impressive. Jeongguk wishes he could be like that.
She still smiles. “So, that is precisely why Jeongguk has been chosen twice. It isn’t 2011. No one finds gaudy douchebags with superiority complexes hot anymore. Now, if you could please sit your ass down and stop making a scene, that would be great. All of this fuss is costing time and money that we don’t have. And we have no problem taking that out of your paycheck. What do you think?”
“No thank you,” he sits down immediately. A naughty dog and a strict owner. “I apologize ma’am.”
Jeongguk almost snorts at how pitiful such a prideful man looks. The inner petty voice in his head yearns to turn around, point and laugh at him for finally getting put in his place as payback for all of the snide comments he’s been making but Jeongguk still holds back. He doesn’t think Jang wants the cash-cow cast member to appear petty in front of the cameras and lose the audience he has somehow managed to collect.
Everyone is reduced to silence as the tension Jang built up slowly ebbs away. Finally, the staff complete their finishing touches and share concerned looks with each other.
The cameras are back on right afterwards. Seokjin dismisses everyone and the three of them leave the firepit to walk alongside the shore where the dates are set up. Over there, the land is close enough to the sea where you’d still get a nice view but there’s a small trek to get there. They walk parallel to the shore, the scent of the water still prominent.
He’s slightly jealous that Mingyu was excused from filming for the rest of the day and gets to watch the entire date go down in the air conditioned cabins while he goes on these dates but Jeongguk can’t help but feel the tiniest inkling of curiosity for these two new cast members.
It isn’t the slightest bit romantic but he just wants to know why they’re inflicting such pain onto themselves.
Being that Seojoon is here, the vibes are bad. Jeongguk hears him grumbling under his breath about being put in his place so he does his best to steer clear, focus on the imprint his shoes leave in the sand and the jingling of his jewelry as he takes each step as his brain goes haywire.
In a few seconds, he’ll be on a date. A real one. Not a fake one set up by bullies just to humiliate him.
Two people actually chose to go on a date with him . Jeon Jeongguk with his social ineptitude and affinity for black clothing and a superior taste in music and the cutest dog in the entire world. Him, he who struggles to maintain eye contact with most people and stress bakes. Jeongguk can’t help but wonder why. What did these people see in him? What stupid shit did Jang say?
High school Jeongguk would be so shocked right now.
High school Jeongguk would rather melt into a puddle and become one with the ocean than think he’d be going on a real ass date.
Jeongguk looks up from the ground to find tents in the distance with small picnic tables with plates and two bodies seated in the respective chairs. A wave of panic crashes in his stomach.
Without his glasses or contacts on, the two people just look like blobs. One with dark hair and one with light hair. That’s all Jeongguk can see. Makeup artists swarm them while a different producer talks, most likely giving them a breakdown on how this whole thing would go. Jeongguk, Dahyun and Seojoon got one as well. Each of them have thirty minutes with each other to ask whatever they want over a luxurious afternoon delight of cake and coffee/tea. The order is Seojoon and Jeongguk, then Dahyun and Jeongguk again.
Every second will be recorded and the other cast members have the absolute joy of watching this entire ordeal go down live! Awesome!
Seojoon did not seem to like this either as he was most likely looking to flirt his way into the new person’s pants despite already being matched with someone who clearly likes him. Hence, the grumbling and the pouting.
Dahyun jogs up next to him, gently poking his arm. “So, excited for your two dates Jeongguk-ssi?” She smiles brightly as they get closer and closer to the date spot.
Jeongguk actually likes her. She’s one of the cast members who is kind no matter what so his response isn’t tight or forced. He looks away just as some type of board is put up to hide the two new cast members. Interesting.
“I… I guess so. More nervous than excited.” He wipes his sweaty hands on his pants to calm down. Jang told him to be more charismatic for the cameras filming them currently or at least show some personality on them, which he’s trying to do here. Jeongguk figures he can be honest. People find honesty attractive, right?
And he’s truly nervous. Remember, he’s never been on a real date in his life.
What do they talk about? The weather? Rising and falling of the stock market? Photosynthesis?
How is he supposed to act around them when his brain is reduced to mush and his hands won’t stop sweating?
How will they react when they hear that he’s a nearly broke 25 year old massage therapist with a dog who lives in a studio apartment and rotates between watching anime in his bed, working out and cooking everyday? Will their lips curl in distaste?
Probably.
She laughs, telling him to be himself and the chemistry will flow naturally. While Jeongguk doesn’t believe that, he’ll do his best to remain authentic. After all, if these people chose him based on his looks and the brief synopsis of his personality he gave at the beginning of the season, they’ll have to like the true Jeongguk if they wanna stay for the long haul.
Once the three of them reach the date spot, the cameras are shut off once more and staff comes around to do some more touch-ups.
Right before the picnic tables, the new contestants are covered by a board to keep the element of surprise. Jang has followed them the entire walk here to make sure the three of them look pretty and aren’t stirring up any trouble. Not like anything would happen considering Seojoon has been sulking the entire walk so Jang lingers in the back and observes silently.
But she does the pleasure of fixing Jeongguk’s collar and windswept hair herself once his nose is done getting patted with powder, speaking lowly to remind him of the stakes.
“Be charming, pull them in, and we can talk about raising your paycheck, okay?”
That piques Jeongguk’s interest. “You serious?” More money, more ways he can provide for himself? Yes, please .
Jang nods. “Of course, darling. And if one of them chooses you, we will make sure to reward you.” She boops his nose and gently pinches his cheek. “You’re my little star after all.”
Fuck , okay, he’ll try his best. His brain runs with the possibility of fixing his bike, giving back to the nuns at the orphanage who helped him, giving money he owes back to Jimin, buying the new drumset he’s always wanted, buying Bam all the dog toys in the world and so many things.
Jeongguk is so excited about the possibilities that he doesn’t even notice the board being removed and the cameras turning back on, revealing the two new contestants on the show. He’s so wrapped up in all of the different possibilities his life could change until his eyes register the movement and refocus.
Right the blob of dark hair and light hair. Well, it’s time he meets them. His gaze dips up and scans, taking the short few seconds to take in the newest suckers– I mean –contestants.
And in those few seconds, time drops into a pot of honey.
It slips slowly, lethargically, as his brain registers just what the fuck is happening. His temporal cortex does the job of committing everything to memory, understanding his surroundings, the smell of the ocean and sunscreen, and getting a good look at these people.
One is a girl, a pretty girl with soft eyes and alluring long dark hair who smiles at him. Her teeth are bright and he hears Dahyun gasp next to him as the wind ruffles the shoulders of her dress.
And the other…
The other person was someone Jeongguk never thought he’d see again.
That clock drops to the bottom of the pot, thick honey oozing all over it like a swarm of bugs. Time stops. No longer falling. It pauses alongside Jeongguk; stilled in shock.
He always believed you get one shot in life. One chance to do your best and then that’s it. No do-overs, no second chances because life isn’t some rom-com.
In fact, life is the opposite. It’s cyclical, sometimes awful, sometimes bearable, most of the time it’s simple motion. Every day, Jeongguk would traverse through wondering if today was the day his bully finally made him bleed enough to alert some faculty member or if his parents realized they wanted him in their life now or if he’d win the lottery and never have to worry about money again. That’s one of the few displeasures life gives: hope.
But all hope does is breed disappointment.
No one came around to help when Jeongguk was getting bullied, his parents wanted nothing to do with him, and when the bills kept on piling up, he was all alone despite hoping for help.
So he stopped hoping for someone else to fix the shit-stain that was his life and began relying on his intuition. Jeongguk was the only one who could fix himself. He never went back to college after dropping out, he got a job that paid well enough, and started paying his debts as soon as he could.
Because you get one shot in life. No regrets. No hoping for a redo. One chance to fight and make living worthwhile.
But the funny thing about life is that it’s also unpredictable. You can hope all you want but ultimately, no one knows what will come next. This outcome might have been selected by some other force or maybe every little step taken can lead you in one path or the other. It all depends on chance.
A slim, microscopic, unbelievably tiny chance uplifted by all of the powers of the universe to bring this one fucking person back into Jeongguk’s life, after thinking he’d never see him again.
After all that running, all the tears, the heartache, the constant questioning of what-if, Jeongguk’s biggest regret is two feet away from him. Looking even more beautiful than he could ever imagine with the color of his shirt matching the tones of gold in his skin and hair.
Suddenly, he’s nineteen again. Nineteen-years-old, wide-eyed, unsure and alone yet so angry when a bright ray of warm sunshine shot through the clouds. And Jeongguk finally breathed, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes fluttered shut, and he could exist without the drowning sensation of loneliness. The person who did all of that is in front of him once again.
“Taehyung,” he exhales, feeling everything and nothing all at once.
That name, soft and warm, sits familiarly in his mouth; as those eyes peel back, blink widely, and those familiar lips part to speak.
“Jeongguk.”