The Sisters Nightmare

Chapter 14: the plan.

Jihoon had reached the point where pride no longer mattered.

At first, he tried calling Luna every night. Then voice notes. Then long apology texts that sounded less like messages and more like someone trying to hold together a collapsing building with bare hands. Nothing worked. Luna ignored all of it with a coldness that honestly scared him.

The worst part? She wasn’t even angry anymore. Anger still meant emotion. What Luna gave him now was distance. Clean, sharp distance.

A week after their last heartbreaking call, Jihoon cornered her outside the design building near the basketball court. His eyes looked tired, like he hadn’t slept properly in days. “Two hours,” he said quietly. “I’ll send you a thousand dollars right now. Just sit with me for two hours.”

Luna stared at him like he had spoken another language. “You think this is about money?”

“No.”

“Then stop embarrassing yourself, Jihoon.”

That one landed hard. She walked past him without looking back while half the students nearby pretended not to watch. And unfortunately for Jihoon, someone else was watching.

Dienkie.

Now Dienkie was the kind of guy mothers warned daughters about without ever mentioning names directly. Rich, reckless, charming when he wanted to be. The type that could steal your girlfriend, shake your hand afterward, then ask if you wanted a drink. He had this annoying habit of treating relationships like hunting games.

Most guys chased girls they liked. Dienkie chased girls who already belonged to someone else. That was the thrill for him. The tension. The challenge. The crack in the relationship he could force wider with just the right words. More than half the girls in his department had stories involving him. Most regretted it afterward. Some didn’t. That was almost worse.

And Luna? Luna had suddenly become the most interesting target on campus. Because everybody could see the fracture between her and Jihoon now.

“She’s slipping away from him,” Dienkie said one night, leaning back on a couch while his friends passed around drinks. “You can always tell when a girl is emotionally done before the breakup actually happens.”

One of the girls laughed. “You’re evil.”

“No,” he replied casually. “I just pay attention.”

The party idea came three days later. Eight girls. Three guys. Expensive alcohol. Loud music. One of Senator Kang’s private mansions sitting empty for the weekend. The official reason was celebration. Networking. End-of-semester stress relief. Reality was simpler. People came there to lose control politely. VIP invitations were sent carefully. Selectively. The attractive girls got personal messages. The guys with money or influence got exclusive access.

Luna’s invitation arrived around noon. VIP access. Private lounge. Chauffeur option included. She almost declined. Almost.

Mrs. Janny glanced at the invitation while drinking tea in the kitchen. “You’re asking me if you should go?”

Luna shrugged lightly. “Maybe.”

Her mother smiled without looking up. “You’re old enough to know what situations are good or bad for you. I trust your judgment.” That was how Mrs. Janny parented. No cages. No dramatic speeches. She believed overprotective parents raised dishonest children.

By 9 PM, Luna stood in front of her mirror wearing a black dress that honestly should’ve been illegal. Not because it revealed too much. Because it revealed just enough. Smooth against her skin. Open around the thighs. Her makeup soft but dangerous. The kind of beauty that didn’t scream for attention because it already knew it had it.

And when she walked into the mansion? Yeah. People noticed. Conversations paused. A guy holding a drink forgot what he was saying mid-sentence. Even the girls looked at her twice.

The mansion itself looked ridiculous. Marble floors. Golden lighting. Music vibrating through the walls softly enough to feel expensive instead of chaotic. Everywhere smelled like perfume, liquor, and money.

Dienkie saw her immediately from the upper staircase. His smile changed. “There she is.”

Two security men near the entrance received a quiet instruction before approaching Luna respectfully. “VIP guests are upstairs.”

Luna followed them past the main crowd toward the private section above the ballroom. The atmosphere changed instantly. Quieter. More intimate. Soft leather couches. Low lighting. Massage attendants offering shoulder treatments. Bottles worth more than some people’s monthly salaries sitting open casually on tables. People here weren’t dancing wildly downstairs. They were watching each other. Studying each other. Predators pretending to be sophisticated.

Luna accepted a small drink after refusing twice.

“Careful,” one girl laughed nearby. “That stuff is basically fuel.”

“95 percent alcohol,” another added proudly.

Luna only sipped a little. Enough to taste the burn.

Dienkie watched her from across the room while pretending to play cards with two other people. His eyes never stayed away from her long. That dress was genuinely distracting. But more than that, it was the sadness around her that pulled him in. Hurt people made reckless decisions. Dienkie understood that better than anyone.

A few games started inside the VIP lounge later that night. Truth games. Dangerous dares. Couples teasing each other lazily while music played softer now. Luna laughed occasionally but something about her energy felt slightly delayed. Heavy. She blinked slowly once. Then again. Her fingers touched her temple.

Dienkie noticed immediately. “You okay?”

“Mm.” She stood carefully. “I think I need water.”

Her balance shifted slightly. Not drunk. Just… strange.

“I’ll show you,” Dienkie said smoothly.

The hallway upstairs was quieter than the party itself. Their footsteps echoed softly against polished floors while distant bass vibrated underneath everything. Luna reached the bathroom sink and turned on cold water immediately. She splashed her face once. Then held the edge of the counter. Something felt wrong. The room tilted for half a second.

Behind her, Dienkie leaned casually against the doorway watching her reflection through the mirror. “You know,” he said softly, “Jihoon’s losing his mind over you.”

Luna closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“That bad?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Dienkie smiled faintly. She had no idea how much he understood broken relationships. He stepped closer slowly. Not enough to touch her. Just enough for tension to start breathing between them. “You’re beautiful tonight,” he murmured.

Luna looked at him through the mirror. Dangerous mistake. Because Dienkie’s entire game depended on eye contact. Confidence. Pressure without force. The illusion that everything happening was the other person’s decision. His hand moved beside hers against the marble sink.

“Do you know how many guys downstairs have been staring at you since you arrived?”

“Dienkie—”

“No, seriously.” His voice lowered. “You walk into a room like you already know exactly what people are thinking.”

Luna swallowed slightly. Her head still felt foggy. And Dienkie noticed every tiny reaction. Every breath. Every hesitation.

That evil little smile returned again. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just the expression of someone who believed patience always paid off eventually.