---
The sunlight filtered through the grand windows of the Thornton estate, bouncing off the polished floors like it had a purpose. YN sat in her pristine, overpriced bedroom, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she tried to drown out the muffled yelling downstairs.
Again.
Her father’s voice was a knife—sharp, cutting through walls and whatever peace she tried to build for herself. She flinched when something crashed. A glass, maybe. A bottle. It didn’t matter. The tension in the air was familiar by now, like a ghost that haunted her every moment at home.
She knew this couldn’t be her life anymore.
That night, with trembling fingers and a hastily packed bag, YN made the call. The one she’d been putting off for months. The voice that answered on the other end was softer than she remembered, worn by time and tides.
"Mom... I need to come stay with you."
---
Two days later, YN stood outside a weathered, sun-bleached house deep in the Cut. Her Kook clothes already felt out of place here—like a costume at the wrong party. She clutched her duffel bag tightly as the screen door creaked open.
Her mom smiled, lines forming around her eyes. “Hey, baby.” The hug that followed was long, grounding. Real.
But the warmth didn't last.
Because standing on the porch behind her mom, arms crossed and annoyance written all over his face, was the one person YN hadn’t expected to see.
JJ Maybank.
Blond hair messy like he didn’t care. Smirk already forming like this was some kind of joke.
“What the hell is she doing here?” he asked, voice sharp.
YN’s jaw clenched. “Great. This just keeps getting better.”
Her mom stepped in quickly. “YN, JJ. I know there’s history, but things are different now.”
“Yeah,” JJ muttered. “Like hell they are.”
YN narrowed her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m not thrilled either. I’ll stay out of your way, Maybank.”
JJ scoffed. “Please. I’ll believe that when I see it, Princess.”
Princess.
That one word reminded her exactly where she came from—and how much he hated it.
She stormed past him and into the house, her boots thudding heavily on the floorboards. The place smelled like salt and old wood. It wasn’t the Kook mansion she was used to. But it already felt safer.
Too bad she had to share it with her worst nightmare.
---
