No turning back

A New Morning...

11:30 AM

"...."

Sera Gilmore's eyes opened to the pale light filtering through her room. The first thing that hit her wasn't the brightness—it was the brutal hangover from last night's three shots of ultra-strong vodka.

She was lying on her soft bed... in her own room... covered with a blanket.

"... Ugh... Ohhh..."

The moment she tried to move, a sharp pain shot up from her lower back and tailbone area.

"Ow—!"

A full-body ache surged through her hips and legs—every muscle sore and tender.

"..."

It took a monumental effort for Sera to sit up. Her jaw ached, and her mouth felt sore inside. Every tiny motion came with a faint popping or cracking sound from her joints.

And then she noticed—she wasn't wearing any clothes.

"!!"

"...."

"... What... the hell..."

Bits and pieces of the previous night came trickling back.

Gradually.

Until it all flooded into her memory.

Sera's face turned beet red. Her hands trembled. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

She turned her head—if her memories were accurate, she expected to see someone lying beside her.

But... no one was there.

Not only that... the entire room was spotless.

Every item was neatly in place.

Too neatly.

That was what really spooked her.

Because Sera remembered her room being a chaotic mess.

"....."

She flung the blanket aside.

Red marks were scattered across her body—on her back, neck, chest, and inner thighs.

Her clothes from the night before—black crop top, pink belt, black jeans, wallet, phone—were neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

"...."

The room was silent, save for the sound of the air conditioner. Sera gingerly climbed out of bed. Her hips cracked as she bent to collect her clothes.

"... Last night... me... and him..."

"..."

"...."

Her heart pounded out of sync.

Panic.

Real panic.

What exactly had she done?

She found her phone lying on top of her clothes and turned it on.

"....."

A message notification popped up from "Creep"—which was, of course, what she'd saved Mickey's name as in her contacts.

Creep sent a video.

"..."

She gulped.

Then opened it.

There were multiple clips totaling around 40 minutes... with a caption from Mickey Mannix:

"Watch these before you freak out."

"....."

Sweat began trickling down her face as she opened the first video... and then the second... and then the third.

Each one more embarrassing than the last.

Video 1: A shaky clip at the bar. Sera was dancing wildly, beaming with joy, clearly tipsy and totally letting loose. Mickey was clearly the one filming.

Video 2: Sera clinging to Mickey in the hallway, leaving black lipstick marks all over his neck. Her memory started syncing with what she saw—her face flushed deeper with each second. Her pulse pounded. Her ears rang. Her hands went numb.

Video 3: The worst of all.

Sera, completely drunk, ranting at Mickey. A full emotional outburst... complaints, frustrations, even a few insults.

And right there, caught on camera:

"I like you."

"!!!!!!"

Speechless.

Absolutely speechless.

Her mind blanked out entirely.

And then came the final video—a long one, over 30 minutes—which answered the last remaining question:

What happened after that night's emotional spiral?

We won't go into detail, but the audio alone gave her more than enough of an answer.

[Sera's Voice, breathless and emotional]

Oh my god... Yes—yes... I—Mickey!

[SFX: Furniture bumping, unclear thudding noises, faint laughter and gasps]

Sera, muffled

You like this, don't you? Huh...? Just admit it you 4 eyes freak!

Laughter, followed by soft indistinct noises

Sera, voice trembling but intense

Mickey... You're amazing... I—I can't believe... I—love you!

A pause... a gasp...

Did you hear me? I said... I love you!

Yes I did

Then fucking say so!!!! bitch!!!

smack.

Sera why are you so aggressive...

IT'S OVER

"Last night… I… with… him…"

For Sera...

What she saw—and heard—was crystal clear, in full 4K resolution. Every motion, every moment, every touch… and now, she understood all too well why her lower back ached.

Sera set her phone down beside the bed. Her hand trembled—visibly. Then she slumped forward, curling up and burying her face in her hands.

There was only one word to describe her current situation:

Screwed.

"...I... I actually slept with that guy..."

Her eyes twitched. She curled up on the bed, hugging her knees like a shrimp.

Downstairs, in the dining hall...

Mickey sat across from Toshi, eating breakfast.

"Hey, man... did you even get any sleep last night?"

Toshi raised an eyebrow, glancing at his friend Mickey Mannix.

"Yeah, it was alright..."

"Your face says otherwise. If this were a game, your mana bar would be empty. You didn't sleep, did you?"

"...A little, maybe."

"You stressed about the Grandmaster meeting? Doesn't sound like you. I thought you were incapable of being stressed."

Besides, it should be Jody who's nervous, not him. She was the one facing a spotlight. Yet this morning, she still looked refreshed and even hit the gym.

"Harsh."

"I'm just being real."

As they talked, Toshi noticed someone approaching. No—walking straight toward them.

"Oh! Sera!"

"...?!"

Mickey slowly turned and saw Seraphina Gilmour approaching, wearing a black turtleneck and pink slacks.

"Didn't see you at the gym this morning. What, gave up already? Haha."

"Pulled a muscle. Gonna need a day to recover."

"You? Recover? Can't you just regenerate the torn fibers using your ability?"

Toshi spoke logically, but Sera immediately cut him off.

"Sorry, but I need to borrow your friend. Now."

"Huh?"

Mickey raised an eyebrow as Sera grabbed his wrist, making him drop his knife and fork.

"I haven't finished—"

"No talking. You're coming with me."

Sera yanked Mickey right off his seat, leaving Toshi behind in confusion.

"...Okay, what the hell just happened?"

Mickey was dragged to a quiet corner just beyond the dining hall—somewhere private enough for a serious talk. On one side, Sera stood gripping her temples in visible distress. Across from her, Mickey casually licked an ice cream cone, calm and unfazed.

"...Why... did you record it?" she asked, her tone sharp.

Mickey simply handed over his phone. "So I wouldn't be accused of anything later."

Sera snatched it and scrolled rapidly. No videos remained—not even in the cloud backup. Which meant... the only existing copy was now in her own chat archive.

She was the only one who could leak it. If anything got out, she had no one to blame but herself.

"...Did you... use protection?"

"You didn't see the clip—"

"Just answer!"

"There's a hidden drawer under the bed. Push the button, and there's a stash."

Sera sighed with relief. That was one worry gone.

Still, her hands covered her face, mortified. She couldn't even look at him.

"...Last night… what time was it?"

"One, maybe two in the morning."

"…And… did it… go on long?"

"Half an hour, maybe. You passed out, I cleaned the place, and left."

Sera flinched. Her mind, though foggy, recalled enough. She remembered his expression, the way he held back. And now he was reminding her of the details with that same straight face.

"Look... Mickey... I didn't mean for things to happen like that. I was drunk. I'm sorry for throwing myself at you. Okay? I admit it—I started it. You're attractive, I was... vulnerable. These things happen. But—"

"You're talking about saying you liked me?"

"!?"

Mickey licked his ice cream, but to Sera, it felt like he was deliberately taunting her, reminding her of everything she said—and did.

"...Yeah. That..." she stammered.

"But I heard it clearly. Clip three, I think? Want me to play it again?"

"No! No need!"

"So you're saying I should forget it ever happened?"

"…Yes… please."

"Interesting…"

He mimicked her words, "'I like you because you're unreadable. You're a challenge.' Something like that?"

Dead silence.

"Where in that paragraph did you mention my looks again?"

Sera couldn't answer. Her cheeks flamed. Her mind searched for something—anything—to take back her words. But it was all caught in crystal clear video. She'd confessed everything.

"…Sera, I'm not that stupid," Mickey said calmly. "You're not the first to say something like this."

Her eyes widened.

"There've been others. You're not the first one who tried something in that club."

"Then... why me?"

He leaned forward. "Because it was you."

She shrank a little. "Because… it was me?"

"At least with you, it wasn't meaningless."

"…So... what about that thing I said? That I… liked you."

Mickey held her gaze. Her confession had come out while she was drunk, but that didn't make it any less real. Not now.

He sighed, then asked quietly:

"Do you realize what you're doing, Sera?"

"...What do you mean?"

"'Like' is just another word for 'infatuation'. You've known me less than two months. You don't really know me at all."

His words landed like punches.

"If you're just infatuated, then fine. What happened is what it is. But don't mistake it for something deeper."

She bit her lip. She couldn't deny it. Not completely.

Mickey continued. "You don't know where I'm from, how much I make, what I do in my free time. You don't know the first thing about me."

That stung more than it should have.

"If we had never met through the organization, you'd still be a Gilmour heiress walking through a luxury mall. I'd be... just another stranger on the street."

His voice softened.

"And if we did start something now? Wouldn't it end like all the others? Once the spark dies, once reality kicks in, we'd argue. Fall apart. But the mission would still go on. We'd still have to face each other."

Sera looked away. She felt stripped bare—not just because of last night, but by how easily he saw through her.

"I'm not saying no," Mickey added. "I'm just saying… wait. Let everything settle. If there's something real, we'll figure it out after the storm passes."

It wasn't rejection. It was patience.

And somehow, that made it hit harder.

Sera managed a laugh. "God, you're such a pain sometimes…"

"Yeah," Mickey smirked, "but you're the one who bit me."

She hit him lightly on the arm, smiling despite herself.

Then, more softly, she asked, "So… if I were more like Jody, would you like me more?"

He blinked. "What?"

"You know… she's calm, smart, always composed. Kind of your type, right?"

Mickey shook his head. "Jody's like a spear. Sharp. Focused. But a spear is always a spear—it only moves forward in one direction. That's not what I'm looking for."

Sera didn't say anything, but inside, she was stunned.

Because Mickey wasn't comparing them to pick sides.

He was telling her: they were different. And that was okay.

That she could be herself. Grow at her own pace.

And maybe... just maybe... they'd meet again when the time was right.