SEASON TWO!
SEASON TWO!
SEASON TWO!

CHAPTER FIVE:
Woah!

THE DINING ROOM OF THE PENTHOUSE GLIMMERED WITH UNDERSTATED LUXURY, the kind that spoke of quiet elegance rather than ostentation. A long marble table sat in the center, illuminated by soft golden light spilling from an intricately designed chandelier. The glass walls offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, the lights twinkling like stars against the deepening dusk. It felt surreal, almost like stepping into a dream, and I wasn't sure if it was the setting or the company that made it feel that way.

Yoongjae was already seated when I entered, his broad shoulders relaxed as he looked out at the view. He turned his head as I approached, a small, genuine smile breaking across his face—the kind of smile that could disarm even the most guarded heart. It was simple, sweet, and just a little shy, a surprising contrast to the confidence he'd exuded back on the island.

"Right on time," he said, standing up and pulling out my chair for me.

"I try not to keep people waiting," I replied with a playful tilt of my head, though the warmth in his gesture didn't go unnoticed. "But I see you're quite the gentleman."

He chuckled, a soft, low sound that felt more intimate than it should have. "Only for the right company."

I took my seat, smoothing the hem of my dress as I glanced at the table. A delicate arrangement of dishes was spread out, each one more artful than the last. The scent of seared meat, fresh herbs, and a hint of something citrusy wafted up, making my stomach rumble softly.

"Well, this is definitely an upgrade from campfire snacks," I said, earning another laugh from him.

"Agreed," he said, settling back into his chair. "Though I think the company is the real highlight tonight."

I rolled my eyes at the comment, but I couldn't stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "Smooth, Yoongjae. Very smooth."

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a grin that was equal parts charming and self-assured. "I've been told I'm good under pressure."

The conversation flowed effortlessly as we began to eat, the initial tension from earlier melting away with every passing moment. Yoongjae had a way of listening that felt...intentional. His gaze was steady, his nods genuine, and when he laughed, it wasn't out of politeness—it was real, warm, and infectious.

"Alright," he said after we'd polished off the first course. "I think it's time for the big reveal. Age and job. Who's going first?"

I raised a brow, leaning back slightly as I crossed my arms. "Why do I feel like you're setting me up?"

"Me?" He placed a hand over his chest, feigning innocence. "Never. But if it helps, I'll go first."

I gestured for him to continue, curiosity piqued. "By all means."

He took a sip of his wine before setting the glass down carefully. "Alright. I'm 32 years old, and I'm a finance manager."

I blinked, letting the information sink in. "Finance manager, huh? Explains the suit-and-tie vibes you give off."

"Is that a good thing?" he asked, his tone light but his eyes watching me carefully.

I smirked. "Depends. Do you do CrossFit because you genuinely enjoy it, or because you're trying to keep up with your Wall Street aesthetic?"

That earned me another laugh, this one louder and more unguarded. "A little bit of both, if I'm being honest. Your turn."

I set down my fork and clasped my hands together, leaning forward slightly. "Alright. I'm 26 years old, and I'm an ICU cardiology nurse."

His brows lifted slightly, his expression softening as he absorbed the information. "An ICU nurse," he repeated, almost to himself. "That's...impressive. And intense."

I shrugged, though his reaction warmed something inside me. "It has its moments. But I love what I do. There's something rewarding about knowing you've made a difference, even if it's just a small one."

He nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "I can see that. It suits you."

"What, saving lives?" I teased, though there was a genuine smile on my face.

"No," he said, his voice quieter now. "Caring. You have that...kind of presence. Strong, but warm."

The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond. So instead, I picked up my glass and took a long sip, letting the silence stretch just enough to lighten the mood again.

"You're good at this," I said finally, setting the glass down. "Making a girl feel seen."

"Only when the girl deserves it," he replied, his smile soft but unwavering.

We spent the rest of the dinner talking about everything and nothing, from our favourite childhood memories to the worst meals we'd ever had. He told me about his love for hiking, and how it helped him clear his head after long weeks of work. I shared stories from the hospital, the funny moments that balanced out the heartbreak.

By the time dessert arrived, I realized I hadn't thought about anyone or anything else all evening. It was just us, the city lights outside, and the quiet, unspoken connection that seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment.

As we finished the last bites of our meal, Yoongjae leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on mine.

"I'll admit," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone, "I wasn't expecting you to choose me for paradise."

"Why not?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Yoongjae paused, his thumb running along the rim of his glass. "Because... I've noticed the connection between you and Jinyoung. The way you two seem to naturally gravitate toward each other—it's hard to miss."

I felt my cheeks warm, a reaction I couldn't quite control. Unconsciously, I smiled as I reached for my wine and took a sip, letting the cool liquid distract me for a moment. "Is it that obvious?" I asked, my tone light, though there was a hint of nervousness beneath it.

"To me, at least," he admitted, his gaze steady but kind. "But it doesn't bother me. I'm not the kind of guy who's scared off by competition. If anything, it makes things more interesting."

His words surprised me, but they also made me smile. "That's... refreshingly honest," I said, setting my glass down. "Most people would've avoided mentioning it altogether."

"Most people don't know how to keep up with you," he countered, his lips curling into a playful grin. "But I like a challenge. And tonight, it's just us. No competition. No distractions."

His confidence was disarming, and I found myself leaning into the conversation, the atmosphere between us shifting to something warmer, softer. As the evening unfolded, we talked more, the weight of his earlier words fading into the background. He asked me about my family, my dreams, my favourite places to travel, and I answered with a candor I wasn't used to sharing so easily.

In return, he opened up about his own life—the struggles of balancing ambition with personal happiness, the lessons he'd learned from his mistakes, and the quiet moments that made everything worth it. With every word, he pulled me further into his orbit, and I realized I wasn't just enjoying his company—I was starting to see the person behind the polished exterior.

By the time the night was winding down, I couldn't help but feel a quiet sense of gratitude. Not just for the beautiful meal or the stunning view, but for the unexpected connection we'd built in the span of a few short hours. Yoongjae wasn't what I'd expected—but maybe that was exactly what I needed.

The penthouse felt even more intimate at night, with the soft glow of ambient lighting casting golden hues across the plush furniture and sleek decor. The city lights stretched endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, a sea of twinkling stars mirrored in the skyline. Yoongjae and I were seated on the oversized couch, a bottle of wine and two glasses perched on the coffee table between us. The warmth of the wine had loosened the edges of the day, leaving the air between us light, yet expectant.

"Do you always stay this quiet?" I teased, tilting my head as I looked over at him. He'd been staring out at the city for a while, his brow furrowed as if caught in deep thought.

Yoongjae turned his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous territory for some," I quipped, swirling the wine in my glass before taking a sip. "What's on your mind, finance manager?"

He chuckled softly at the nickname, his gaze meeting mine. "Alright, Yoori. I've got a question for you."

I raised a brow, intrigued. "Shoot."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke. "Do you think it's better to love or to be loved?"

The question hung in the air between us, surprising in its weight. I took another sip of my wine, giving myself a moment to think. "That's a big question for a penthouse conversation."

"I figured you'd have an answer," he said, his tone light but his eyes searching.

"Alright," I said, setting my glass down and leaning back into the couch. "I think... to love is better."

Yoongjae's brows lifted slightly, curiosity sparking in his gaze. "Why?"

"Because loving someone means you're giving a part of yourself," I said, my voice softening. "It's vulnerable, yes. Scary, even. But it's also brave. When you love someone, you're the one choosing to feel. To care. It's an act of strength."

He watched me for a moment, the corners of his lips curving into a faint smile. "And what about being loved? Doesn't that matter too?"

"Of course it does," I said, shrugging slightly. "But being loved is out of your control. It's someone else's choice. To love is yours. You have power in that."

Yoongjae's gaze flickered, a thoughtful silence settling between us. Finally, he nodded. "I like that."

"What about you?" I asked, tilting my head. "What do you think is better?"

He leaned back, his shoulders relaxing as he considered the question. "I think... being loved feels safer. But loving someone? That feels real."

I studied him, noting the rare vulnerability in his voice. "Safer? That's not something I expected you to say."

He laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. "What can I say? Even finance managers have fears."

I smiled, the corners of my lips lifting into something softer. "So, you're a realist and a romantic. Who knew?"

He gave me a look, one that was equal parts amused and self-aware. "You bring it out of me, I think."

The sincerity in his tone made something in my chest tighten, though I quickly masked it with a playful smile. "Careful, Yoongjae. You're starting to sound like a poet."

"Well, you're not exactly what I expected either," he said, his voice light but his gaze steady. "Back on the island, you're all confidence and sharp comebacks. Here... you're different."

"Different how?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted the answer.

"Softer," he said simply. "But no less strong."

I blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his words. For a moment, I didn't know what to say, so I settled for the truth. "Maybe it's the wine."

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Or maybe it's just you."

The conversation drifted after that, easing into lighter topics—funny moments from the island, our favourite movies, the quirks of our jobs. But his question lingered in my mind long after the wine was finished, and the night stretched on.

Because while I'd said I believed it was better to love, sitting there in that quiet penthouse with Yoongjae, I wondered if being loved could be just as powerful—if only for the way it made you feel seen.

The sun was already high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the island as we made our way down the stairs. The waves lapped gently at the shore in the distance, a soft background melody to the sound of our footsteps. Yoongjae was behind me, holding my bag with ease, his presence steady and comforting. In front of me, Jinyoung walked with Nadine, the two of them chatting quietly. Ahead of them, Soe and Hanbin led the way, their laughter echoing faintly.

The walk back to the beach felt surreal, a reminder of how different the two worlds—Inferno and Paradise—really were. My feet moved automatically, but my mind lingered on the conversations of the night before, the warmth of the penthouse, and the unexpected depth of Yoongjae's words.

We reached the beach where the others were gathered, basking in the sun or chatting in small groups. Sejeong and Seulki were lying on towels, soaking up the rays, while Dongwoo and Jongwoo seemed engrossed in a discussion nearby. The sight of them brought a wave of familiarity—this chaotic, beautiful group of strangers who somehow felt like an odd little family.

Yoongjae stepped up beside me, placing my bag in front of the women's tent with a small, effortless smile. "See you later," he said, his tone light but kind.

"See you," I replied, matching his smile before watching him disappear into the men's tent.

I ducked into the women's tent, sighing as I sat cross-legged on my floor bed. The air inside was cooler, the shade a welcome relief from the sun. Nadine was already seated in front of me, her sharp eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Tired?" she asked, laughing softly at the way I leaned back on my hands, clearly worn out.

"Exhausted," I admitted, a grin tugging at my lips. "But I'll survive."

Nadine leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "So, how was the date in Paradise with Yoongjae?" Her tone was teasing, curiosity evident in her expression.

I rolled my eyes playfully but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped. "It was fun. He's like a cute puppy, I don't know how else to explain it."

"A cute puppy?" Nadine echoed, her laughter ringing out. "That's one way to put it."

"It's true," I said, shrugging as I leaned forward. "He's sweet, attentive, but... there's something steady about him too. It's nice."

"Well, well," Nadine teased, "sounds like someone had a good time."

"What about you?" I countered, smirking. "How was your date with Jinyoung?"

Nadine's expression shifted, a mixture of amusement and disbelief crossing her face. "It was good," she admitted. "I was shocked by his job, though."

"Right?" I said, my eyes widening slightly. "It's pretty shocking, but..."

"Sensed it," we said in unison, both of us bursting into laughter at the shared thought.

The sound of our laughter filled the tent, light and unrestrained. For a moment, the weight of the island and its tensions faded away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and ease.

The sound of our laughter filled the tent, light and unrestrained. For a moment, the weight of the island and its tensions faded away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and ease.

A voice came from outside the tent: "Yoori, can we go for a talk?"

It was Jinyoung.

I rolled my eyes, half-annoyed, half-amused. "Coming," I replied, earning another laugh from Nadine. She shook her head knowingly as I stood up, fixing my dress and grabbing my sunglasses. I slipped them on, masking my expression, then stepped out into the sunlight. Sliding into my heels, I glanced at Jinyoung, who was waiting just a few feet away, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His sharp gaze softened as it landed on me.

We began walking toward the small table near the back of the beach, his steps falling in sync with mine.

"How was your evening and night yesterday with Yoongjae?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharper than they should've been.

I tilted my head slightly, letting my sunglasses shield the mischief in my eyes. "It was fun. It was good," I said with a small smile, keeping my answer vague as I settled into the chair across from him. The sunlight glinted off the lenses of my glasses as I adjusted them slightly.

Jinyoung sat down, leaning back in his chair with an air of nonchalance that I wasn't buying for a second. "Fun and good," he repeated slowly like he was tasting the words. His dark eyes locked on mine, or at least where they would've been if my sunglasses weren't in the way. "That's all you've got?"

I hummed lightly, crossing one leg over the other as I met his stare head-on. "Mhm," I said, letting the sound hang in the air as I smoothed out the hem of my dress. "Why? Curious about what you missed out on?"

His lips curved into that lopsided grin I knew all too well. "Should I be?" he shot back, his tone laced with playful challenge. His eyes dipped briefly to my lips before returning to my face.

"That depends," I replied smoothly, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. "Did you have a better time with Nadine?" The question came out light and teasing, but I didn't miss the way his jaw tightened for a fraction of a second.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, closing the distance between us. "It was... fine," he said, his voice lower now, more serious. "She's nice. But you know what I realized?"

I raised an eyebrow behind my sunglasses. "What's that?"

"Nice isn't really my thing," he said, his gaze burning into me. "I think I prefer a little more fire."

I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a full smile. "Oh, so you're a masochist," I quipped, leaning back in my chair as if his words didn't send a shiver down my spine.

"Maybe," he said, his grin widening. "Or maybe I just like a challenge."

"Is that what this is?" I asked, tilting my head. "A challenge?"

His eyes darkened, the playful glint replaced by something heavier, more intense. "I think you already know the answer to that," he said softly, his voice like a velvet whisper.

I finally took off my sunglasses, setting them on the table between us. My eyes met his, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to fade away. The sounds of the waves, the chatter of the others in the distance—all of it melted into the background.

"You're awfully bold for someone who spent the night in paradise with someone else," I said, my voice steady but my heart pounding.

"So are you," he countered, leaning back in his chair again. "But I think we both know this is different."

"Do we?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.