A/N: Zen route was requested and let me just preface this by saying he's one of the two characters that are the hardest for me to write for mys mes (Jumin being the other lolllll ) and his route was actually my least fave but ! i tried my best to get in my feels for this one hope u like it

o ya. Zen route spoilers if it wasn't obvious, i don't wanna ruin anyone's first mystic messenger experience ? it's spiritual ? seriously. love yourself a little & go play and then come back if u want cos i'm thirsty 4 validation (⌐■_■)

and if you have a minute

why don't we go

talk about it

somewhere only we know

somewhere only we know, keane

On the drive, it feels like you're being taunted. The radio host seems as if he's speaking directly to you — reminding you — of the scandal that's being driving you and all your friends crazy for the past week. You can only handle about four minutes of listening to them drone on and on about 'Echo Girl's' testimonial before you meekly ask Driver Kim to turn it off. The man complies without complaint, easily switching it to some soothing station that plays classical music.

You don't want to think about it. Simple. So you scroll through your phone, replying to a few emails from party guests, figuring you might as well be productive in the meanwhile.

Driver Kim reads off the address as you approach your destination and you start, surprised. With your phone clutched in your anxious hands, you exit the vehicle, offering the driver a shaky but polite, 'thank you.' Considering how nervous you are, the fact your voice even works at all is nothing short of a miracle.

Your eyes skim the apartment complex before you. Nothing extravagant like Rika's, but then, you suppose her apartment was meant to be an exception anyway. Your legs find their purpose long before your head does, and somehow, you manage your way to the front door and tap the button with the apartment number that Jaehee informed you would be Zen's.

Seconds that end up feeling like years pass by. You bite your lip. Maybe he's not home after all?

Just as you are about to turn and make your way back to the car, a static-y yet familiar voice echoes from the speaker. "If you're another reporter, my answer hasn't changed — I'm still not making any statements."

"Z-Zen?"

A pause, and then. "Wait — is that — you?"

"Yes, it's MC," you answer a bit lightheadedly. "From the chatroom?"

You hear muffled cursing from the other end and huff a laugh to yourself behind your hand. "S-Stay there! I'll come meet you, okay?"

At his hurried tone, you frown a little. "Should you be coming outside…?" But he's gone, and you sigh, and you wait.

It doesn't take long before the front door springs open, and your eyes are drawn to a heavily breathing Zen. If you weren't so stricken by the mere sight of him, you might laugh at his eagerness, but… His lips tug upwards into a smile, and you feel yourself flushing; the nerves you'd felt in the car rushing down on you, again, all at once. He's real. Not just a voice on the other end of the phone, or words that light up your screen in the middle of the day… He's real, and he's here, and he's every bit as attractive in person as you were worried he'd be.

"Hi," you say, swaying back and forth on your feet a bit awkwardly. Eye contact is hard, but you manage it somehow. At least until his ruby eyes crinkle with mirth at the sight of your very obvious embarrassment, that is.

"Hi," he breathes back, still smiling like an angel. Almost reluctantly, his eyes flicker towards where Driver Kim is still parked. "Your ride, I assume?" He looks amused.

"Ah," you reply, turning to wave at Driver Kim, who gives you one last nod and smile before taking off. "Yeah. Jumin kind of sent me. I don't actually have a private taxi service… I'm kind of on a party coordinators budget."

"That guy…?" Zen's apparent cheerfulness seems to outweigh any suspicions he might have about Jumin's motives. If he only knew… Unsurprisingly, having finally seen his face in person, the last thing on your mind at the moment is trying to talk him into doing a cat food commercial. He shakes his head. "I don't know why he's butting into my business again, but I guess I won't complain since it led to meeting you," he says with a playful tone. "Come on in, I was just making lunch — " He stops himself, a worried look on his face. "Unless you already ate?"

"Lunch sounds great," you assure him.

"O-Okay. Great."

And it is great. Nerve-wracking, but great.

He leads you down a winding staircase, all the way to the very bottom floor. His apartment is small, but tidy and comfortable. True to his word, it seems he left mid-food preparation to greet you at the door, which makes you feel a little guilty, sure, but mostly you feel a tinge of smugness. He's got posters from his past productions hung on the walls in frames, and perhaps more mirrors than one person should need, but all in all it's a really nice place. You shouldn't be surprised, you think, because Zen's never given you reason to suspect he has anything less than impeccable taste.

"Just have a seat, um, anywhere," he suggests kindly.

So, you do.

Conversation's a bit awkward at first, but, isn't that normal? You have only just met about a week ago and all your interactions were over the phone and through text.

None of that stops the butterflies from running rampant in your chest.

You aren't fond of heights. Is anyone? Still, when a beautiful man is beckoning you up flights of stairs with a mischievous grin it becomes increasingly easier and easier to forget that little fact. The minute he begins to sense your nerves, he grabs your hand and slows his own pace. You stare up at him, your eyes focusing on the beauty mark at the bottom of his chin, and some practically imperceptible blemishes around his mouth — from shaving? Maybe? If you weren't looking so directly, you'd never notice the little imperfections and maybe that's the thing about Zen's deceptively good looks.

They're just that. Deceptive.

You won't deny that even with the small imperfections considered he's still entirely angelic, but… Somehow being this close, and seeing him in the dim light of the apartment stairwell, he looks definitively human for the first time in your eyes.

Your heart constricts uncomfortably within your chest at the thought.

Stop that.

"What are you staring at?" Zen asks, a bit playfully. The awkwardness, for the most part, has passed. At least on his part. He is nothing if not disarmingly charming.

You avert your eyes, a wry smile pulling at your mouth. "…A narcissist. I think. I can't be sure." You make a show of examining him, even going so far as to prop your chin up with your thumb, thoughtfully.

He nudges you with his elbow. "Hey," you can hear the pout in his voice before the urge to glance over at him even occurs to you. When you catch sight of his faux sour expression, you let out a breathy, shallow laugh. You both reach your destination and he pushes the huge, metal door open and quirks a brow at your hesitant expression.

"There are 'no loitering' signs," you protest.

"I come up here all the time."

"Feeling a bit nostalgic for your delinquent biker days, I assume?

He rolls his eyes. "If the police come, I promise I won't let them take you away," he says with a thick sense of seriousness; so much so, that you can't help but laugh at his solemn expression. You give him a skeptical look, to which he responds by grabbing your hand and pulling you toward him. Your nose ends up pressed against his chest and you glower up at him, flushing. "Sorry, sorry," he chuckles, letting you go and making a placating gesture with his palms up.

"…Whatever," you mutter, stepping back and taking in your surroundings. "Well. It's a nice view, at least. Not sure it'll be worth the jail time, but…"

"And you call me dramatic," Zen teases, taking large strides over closer towards the edge. As he passes you, his hand brushes your arm and you try not to combust into a million heart shaped pieces on the spot.

Nice. Smooth.

"Okay, you got me on the roof. That's impressive, I'll give you that," you begin, narrowing your eyes, taking much smaller steps behind him. "But I draw the line at, like, hanging our feet over the edge. I'm not trying to die today, you know?"

Thankfully, he plops down far enough from the edge for you to be comfortable with, and hugs his knees to his chest. He raises a brow at you beckoningly and pats the empty space beside him. Slowly, you make your way over and follow suit, crossing your legs and glancing up at the sky littered with blinking stars.

"Wow," you say.

Nice one, genius. He's going to be really impressed with your stunning grasp on vocabulary…

But when you risk a peek at his face, he's just smiling pleasantly at you — like there's nowhere else he'd rather be. "Isn't it? I told you… I come here a lot to think. Sometimes to relax when work becomes stressful."

"Hmmm," you hum, biting your lip and turning your eyes back to the stars. You can feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. Jumin, no doubt. He hasn't really left you alone since you implied that his cat food job was the last thing on your mind, at the moment. You think it won't hurt to ignore him a little while longer…

Apparently, Zen isn't so sure. "Your phone's been going off all day," he sounds almost worried. "Someone must really be missing you."

"Oh. He'll survive." You roll your eyes, leaning back a little with your palms to the ground to get a better view of the sky.

You miss the way Zen's eyebrows furrow; too caught up in the thrill of being under the stars with the narcissistic man you may or may not have a thing for. Maybe if you'd been thinking straight, you'd have realized your phrasing could use some serious work. "I don't mean to be nosy, but… if I were your boyfriend and — "

If you had been drinking something, you're certain you'd have done a spit take just then. "What — Where did that come from?" You stare at him openly with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "Wha…?" But it takes a solid three seconds and Zen's stricken expression to bring you back to the very moment you went wrong. "Oh, you think…? Jumin's been messaging me all night. He's mad I'm not pitching his cat food commercial to you and probably wants to send me home as punishment. He's not… I mean… I don't have a — um — a boyfriend. And if I did I wouldn't be avoiding his texts! Probably!"

Zen's expression quickly smoothes out, and he laughs a little awkwardly. "Probably?"

"I mean I don't know. Maybe if he was annoying or something? But then, why would I date someone I found annoying…? Um. I'm just going to stop talking now, okay?" You flush, a little angry at yourself for getting so worked up over something so dumb… and Jumin Han — the next time you see him in the chatroom, he's going to pay. Figuratively or literally. You haven't decided whether you'll hit him where it hurts, or his wallet, yet.

He pats your nose with the tip of his index finger. You blink at him in confusion, which causes him to laugh that low, spine-tingling laugh all over again. "You had a murderous look on your face. I wanted to see if I could make you smile that cute smile again. Ah," his eyes crinkle with the depth of the grin he sends your way. "There it is."

"That's…so cheesy," you retort, but you know you're blushing. Again. "Did you recycle that line from a play, or what? There's no way you thought that was something people actually say."

"Hey," he defends. "Maybe you just haven't met any romantic people. My lines are all solid."

"Okay, Jalapeño boy. Whatever you say."

"I was a young, struggling actor, stop holding that one title against me… So cruel," he mocks wiping away a stray tear from the corner of his eye.

"I get it," you reply, a tiny smirk pulling at your lips. "We all make mistakes we can't take back. It's just that yours happens to be on film forever — "

"Ruthless!"

"Sorry, you just make it so easy."

And it's easy to forget everything. Echo Girl. The hacker. The fact you somehow ended up inhabiting a dead girl's apartment, for no other reason than the people currently in ownership of it deemed you 'safe' enough to do her job.

The world's fucking strange, isn't it?

But strangely enough — ha — there's nothing all that odd about sitting on a roof in the brisk city air with the boy with silver locks and a golden heart. You really hate that your heart is already screaming for him because as comfortable as it is on this roof —in the right now — is there really a place for you next to him in the long term? He's a celebrity, and even if he's in the midst of the worst scandal of his career, the reality is that he'll still be a celebrity tomorrow. And the next day, and the next… and you… won't.

"What's with that look?" asks Zen, perplexed. He pokes at your nose again and you roll your eyes at him, swallowing the sudden onslaught of melancholy you feel. Sadness that hasn't fully been able to manifest. That's all it is. Realization… Realization that you and him can't happen, and Jaehee was right, and Jumin was stupid for sending you here in the first place. And he's still going to pay. "Seriously, what's up?"

"It's nothing," you lie. "Just…cold, I guess."

Zen gives you a long, hard look before a decision is made. A decision you, somehow, didn't see coming at all. He shrugs off his sweatshirt in one fell swoop and drapes it over your shoulders carefully, like something straight out of a rom-com. "Can't have my guest freezing, can I?" He smiles — and you feel your heart leap, just to have it sink all over again.

He's just being kind. Because that's what Zen is. Kind.

"Because if I did, you'd be stuck with the hospital bill?"

"Sure," he says, smiling to himself. "Let's go with that."

You feel a lot of things that night, but none of those emotions were so strong as the feeling of regret as you are ushered off back to Rika's apartment by Driver Kim at Jumin's (goddamn…Jumin… !) insistence.

Even though it's clearly impossible, and he's clearly out of your league, you still wish you'd kissed him just once.

There are alarms blaring in your head, still, though you know you're not in the apartment anymore. You feel phantom glass from the shattered windows making pinpricks in your skin, reminding you that you aren't safe — never safe — even though your brain keeps trying to tell you that you are. Worst of all is the shaking… Your shoulders keep shaking, and your eyes keep burning, but the tears won't come.

"I'm sorry," he keeps saying, but you can't imagine what he has to be sorry for. "I'm so fucking sorry," he says, pressing a hard kiss to your forehead, and you lean into him without second thought. You can feel Zen shaking, too, now that you think about it. And even in your numbed state, it concerns you. You glance up at him with wide, bleary eyes and find that his own eyes are burning. Burning with hate — burning with regret — burning with unshed tears, just like yours.

You can smell smoke, and oh, the apartment's on fire, isn't it? Because it exploded.

That sure happened. Huh.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" Zen says, but it's more like he's asking for permission. You just nod, not trusting your voice. "I've messaged the others — and if Seven didn't call the authorities the minute the glass broke… I'll deal with that guy myself," it sounds like he's talking to himself now, to keep himself calm. That's okay. You like the sound of his voice a lot more than the fake alarms in your head. He leads you carefully, so carefully, to his parked bike. You've never been on a bike before.

You've never been in a mess quite like this before either, though.

"I'm going to put this on you," he says, holding the helmet up for you to examine. You don't miss the fact that he's only got the one.

"…Don't want to mess up your own hair, huh?" Your voice cracks a little.

He blinks at you, stunned, and you realize this must be the first thing you've said since… Well.

"It's fine," you continue. "My hair's already a mess anyway." And you try for a smile — it must not be very convincing, because you don't try very hard, but Zen still absolutely beams at you like you're not dressed in embarrassingly fluffy pajamas and emotionally drained.

"Who cares about that, silly?" Zen taps your nose. "Your safety is way more important."

"What about your safety?"

"I rode without a helmet all the time as a kid," he tells you, placing the helmet over your head as gently as he can. He slides up the visor to look you in the eye one last time, and you try for a better, more convincing smile this time. The smile he gives you in return makes the effort entirely worth it. "So don't worry about me, okay?"

"…You're an idiot," you mutter.

"…Hm?"

"That's how people end up with traumatic head injuries, you know."

"I said, don't worry about me," Zen sighs in resignation. "But I suppose I won't complain since it's you. I'm going to need you to hold on to me as tightly as you can, alright?" He meets your gaze directly to make sure you're listening. Were you really that vacant…? You nod slowly. He hops on first, and you settle in behind him. With a little laugh at your reluctance, he pulls your arms around him. "Hug me like you mean it," he teases.

"Maybe I'll just break your ribs," you say loftily, but complying.

"I'd like to see you try with those arms," he snorts.

"Not all of us are natural born gym rats," you pull at his pony tail once before hugging him again. Your press your face against his shoulder, swallowing deeply at the proximity.

It doesn't mean anything…He's just doing you a favor. You don't want to be here anymore, do you?

He makes good on his promise, and takes you far enough away that you can't even taste the smoke in the air anymore.

And that's more than enough.

Jumin Han: It isn't proper for them to share a living space before marriage…

Jumin Han: Particularly, knowing Zen's intentions… because he's made them painfully obvious, time and time again.

707: Lighten up old man (；⌣̀_⌣́)

707: MC shouldn't be alone right now anyway

MC: i appreciate the concern guys ! but it's fine

MC: as long as Zen doesn't mind, i'm not uncomfortable or anything lol

Zen: Of course I don't mind!

Jumin Han: Of course he doesn't mind…

Zen: Do I look like I mind?

Zen: HEY! I don't want you putting words in my mouth out of anyone! ;;;

Jumin Han: You said the exact same thing.

MC: lolololol

707: Mom and Dad are gonna fight ヽ( `д´*)ノ

707: Quick, MC, run!

MC: running!

Jumin Han: …

Jumin Han: I'm going to try calling V again.

Jumin Han: MC, I'm glad you're safe.

Jumin Han: Zen

Zen: You don't need to threaten me, moneybags ;;

Zen: I care about MC's safety more than a robot like you could possibly understand.

Jumin Han: I was going to say the transcript for the cat food commercial is in the mail.

Jumin Han: Don't be lazy and forget about it.

[Jumin Han has left the chatroom.]

Zen: …That guy!

MC: lol can't wait to see u in cat ears maybe u should practice saying meowww

707: meowwwww

MC: meow meow

[Zen has left the chatroom.]

MC: LOL he's sneezing

707: Typical

That night, that terrible, terrible night — he takes you to the roof. You grumble all the way up the stairs, but you know that his heart is in the right place, and so you can hardly deny him. As he opens the door for you with a grandiose gesture, you roll your eyes and step into the cool, midnight air. It's different this time. It doesn't feel like intruding in unfamiliar territory; it feels like you belong here this time around, as strange as it sounds.

Your eyes trail up to the sky, and you feel a familiar, comforting weight beside you. "I don't know what to do," you say, and you just know he's listening. "This whole situation was strange to begin with but…" Your eyes flicker down to the bruises on your arm from the stranger's grip, and you know you have a matching pair around your neck. You'll have to cover it with makeup for the party, you think bitterly. And you'll have to cover your lackluster expression with a false smile the entire time, too…

God, what a fucking mess.

"This should never have happened," Zen tells you seriously. You look up at him, and you've never seen such a severe expression on his face. "V knew… V knew what was sitting in that apartment from the beginning — he should never have suggested you stay there. Maybe I could forgive that if he'd gotten you out as soon as the cryptic messages started, but no — "

"Don't blame V," you mutter. "Blaming anyone isn't going to do anything but make things worse and more complicated than they have to be."

"I'll blame whoever I want," frowns Zen, and you glower up at him; annoyed. He presses feather-light touches to the marks on your neck, his frown deepening in severity. "Mostly, I want to blame the guy who did this…"

"It doesn't hurt."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point, Zen?" You ask, stretching your arms out and backing away from him. The irritation building up from the stress of the night seems to come pouring out of your every move, now, despite your desperate wish to just stop. "What's the point of any of it? The hacker's still out there. Rika's still dead, and now her apartment — and whatever V was so desperately trying to protect — is gone! Tell me what the point of any of this was, because I don't understand, okay? I don't understand," you repeat, and oh. There are those tears that refused to show up a few hours ago. Damn. You take one look at his devastated expression and relent. "I'm… What am I saying?" You let out a watery chuckle. "I'm just… tired, and I guess upset. I — I didn't mean to yell at you or — ! "

Your words are muffled by the sudden body you're pulled into. You let out a small shriek as Zen's arms enclose around you. But once the initial shock wears off — rather quickly, in fact — you're surrounded by pure warmth and comfort. "Fuck," you murmur against his sweater, and he laughs boisterously; enough that you can feel the aftershocks of it through his chest. You kind of never want to let go. "You're good at hugs," you admit, pulling back a little but not all the way. Never that.

"I'm a man of many talents," he informs you with a twinkle in his eye.

"So I've heard." You avert your eyes. "Apparently one of those talents is making people forget they're having the worst night of their lives. And that they were being kind of an asshole and yelling at the one person who doesn't deserve it."

"You've had a long night."

"So have you," you retort. "But you aren't freaking out at all… I always knew you were probably an alien or something."

A hand gently tilts your head up, and you're forced to meet his gaze. "I'm not freaking out?" He seems genuinely bewildered at the accusation. "MC," he says softly, in a tone that absolutely melts your heart. "When I saw you being held by that… intruder… I've never been so terrified in my life. I didn't know what I was going to do, or if I could do anything. I felt helpless. Useless. And then you know what happened?"

You feel a tiny smile tug at your lips. You know what happened next, alright. "I bit him…"

Zen laughs. "You bit him," he agrees. "And even though it was reckless, you gave us both the time needed to get out of the situation. Intentional or not, we make a pretty good team, no?"

You nod, a bit sheepish. "… Sorry for having a meltdown."

"Stop apologizing," he cups your cheek in his hands, smiles down at you like you weren't just screaming at him, or something. This guy can't be real, you think. But he is, and he's here, and he's looking at you like you're not a total mess. He runs his thumb across your cheek, a pensive expression crossing his face. "I know… this may not be the right time — "

"Do it," you say.

He blinks. "Are you — ?"

"Do it," you repeat impatiently.

He laughs, and while that's cute and all… You get fed up, and tug him down by the collar of his jacket so your noses are barely touching. "You talk way too much," you inform him before pressing your lips firmly to his, feeling a bit smug at the shock written plainly across his face. It doesn't last long, though, and you aren't sure whether to be disappointed or not. On one hand, you lose the upperhand of having stunned him into speechlessness but on the other…

Zen's a really good kisser, as you learn.