Defective Banana - Chapter 37

Ara smiled warmly as she looked at the bracelet Seohyuk had given her.

“It’s so pretty. Thank you, really.”

“Ara, try turning the center part of your bracelet.”

“Huh?”

She blinked, not quite getting what he meant. But when she looked closely and twisted the part of the bracelet with the embedded diamond, it rotated halfway around—and there it was, a tiny engraving.

<AR ♥ SH>

Another one of his ridiculously cute surprises.

“You’re seriously unbelievable, Kang Seohyuk.”

She glanced at him with narrowed eyes, amused. Seohyuk gently took her hand and laced their fingers together, looking straight into her eyes with a soft, lowered voice.

“Since it’s a special day for us, how about we reconsider sleeping in separate rooms tonight? We should be holding hands all night, celebrating our 100-day anniversary, don’t you think?”

The way he said it—with that mix of sweetness and mischief—made her chest feel hot and fluttery all at once.

Ara held back a laugh as she teased him again.

“You still need to reflect though. I specifically told you not to get handsy in public. Why do you never listen?”

Seohyuk immediately went into full-on pout mode, like he knew all too well that throwing on a handsome face could fix anything.

“Fine, I get it. But can’t I do the rest of the reflecting back in Seoul? It’s our 100-day anniversary today…”

Ara, half-convinced by his pitiful tone, leaned back against the sofa and placed one foot on his shoulder—he was still kneeling in front of her.

Like a medieval queen knighting a soldier with a ceremonial sword, she spoke in an overly dignified voice.

“To you, who have endured moments of confusion and conflict… I wish peace and hope upon your soul…”

Her light brown eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked into his. Then she pressed her white foot down a little more firmly on his shoulder.

Seohyuk’s heart pounded wildly—he wanted her to step on him, to insult him in that calm, composed voice of hers. Maybe even to kick him a little harder.

“God… just do whatever you want with me. I’ll take anything,” he muttered, his dark eyes hazy and burning with need.

Ara smirked at him and gave her final decree.

“I grant you permission to celebrate your 100 days—kissing, s3x, release—whatever you want.”

As she lifted her foot from his shoulder, she stepped down hard between his legs. Almost instantly, he stiffened and swelled up beneath his pants.

Like a man who’d just been given permission to breathe again, Seohyuk launched forward and pinned Ara to the couch.

He practically tore off his jacket in desperation, like he’d been holding back for far too long. His pants were next, flung off in a rush, followed by his shirt, which he whipped off as he hovered over her with heated eyes.

Then, without missing a beat, he started undoing the buttons on her blouse, fast and eager.

Ara watched him with a mix of amusement and thrill. The way he charged at her like this—so sexy, so beautiful—it was a sight she didn’t want to miss.

When her blouse came undone, his hand slipped under her bra to cup her chest, his lips crashing into hers in a hungry kiss.

Soon, he was tasting the sweetness of her skin, his hands pulling off her pants and underwear in one go. His fingers traced along her inner thighs, searching desperately.

It felt like his body was begging for permission to enter.

“Hnng… mm.”

As his excitement peaked, Seohyuk pressed the tip of his c0ck to her warmth, slowly pushing in.

A hot gasp escaped him as he slid in tight and deep. That electric pleasure shot up his spine like lightning.

How could anything feel this good?

Thrusting inside her over and over again, he couldn’t help but think, maybe this was what he was born to do.

***

They spent two passionate days together in Busan before parting with a promise to meet again in Seoul.

Back in Seoul, Ara returned to her usual routine—having lunch with Donghee unnie, painting, and keeping herself busy with her artwork.

Then, one day, she received a random message request from someone she didn’t know. At first, she assumed it was someone from the art gallery. But the second she accepted and said hello, threatening messages came flooding in.

[You dared to touch my man?]
[Want me to snap those worthless wrists of yours?]
[Tell me you’ll never see Kang Seohyuk again.]
[Not replying? I’ll leak the video of you hitting him.]
[(Video)]

The attached clip was short—just five seconds. It showed the day they arrived in Busan, in the hotel parking lot. Someone, likely one of Seohyuk’s obsessive fans, had secretly filmed it.

In the clip, she faced Seohyuk and suddenly slapped him.

Thankfully, her face wasn’t clearly visible. But Seohyuk’s—his tall figure and striking profile—was caught front and center.

God, why did she have to slap him?

“I knew something like this would happen eventually…”

Whoever this person was, they clearly had Ara’s phone number, too. Probably got it from her car.

She’d promised herself she would end things with Seohyuk if her identity was ever at risk—but truthfully, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to leave him, and she didn’t want to drift from Donghee either.

She just wanted to keep sharing her life with Seohyuk, making love, laughing together—and stay close to her unnie, like always.

They were the only people who truly loved and cared for her. There was no way she could let some stranger ruin that. Taking a deep breath, Ara typed a reply.

[Should I go to the police right now? Or just forward this to Kang Seohyuk?]

The message was read almost instantly, followed by a rude reply.

[B1tch, are you threatening me now? You’re in no position to do that.]

Ara chuckled bitterly.

[I think you’ve misunderstood something. There’s nothing going on between me and that man.]

Playing dumb only seemed to provoke the other person.

[Bullshit. You think I didn’t see you two going into that hotel room? Stop messing with my man before I leak this video online.]

Wait—messing with? Ara almost burst out laughing. What exactly did this lunatic think was happening? She hadn’t done anything to him… well, okay, she slapped him. But still.

[So, if I say, ‘Fine, I’ll stop seeing Kang Seohyuk,’ you’ll delete the video?]

Ara started using informal speech too—it seemed like the sender wasn’t all there.

[You crazy b1tch. What’s with the tone? How old are you, huh?]

[Well, you used an informal first. I figured we were just having a friendly convo. But really—if I ‘let him go,’ does that mean Kang Seohyuk’s coming to you?]

[You fucking b1tch. Keep talking like that and I swear I’ll do something. I’ll send this to every tabloid out there!]

For a second, Ara’s hands trembled. The girl sounded serious. But Ara quickly regained her composure and leaned into the logic.

[My face isn’t even visible in that video, so honestly, I don’t care. But think about it—Seohyuk will be the one who really gets hurt. And you? You’ll get sued for blackmail. He’ll find out everything. Still think this is a good idea?]

[What? Legal action? You piece of sh1t!]

Ara sent one final, firm message.

[So delete it. And don’t ever try this kind of threat again. I’m leaving now.]

[You better not walk away while I’m being nice—HEY!]

She hit the leave button without hesitation. But her anger still lingered. She cracked open a can of beer from the fridge and downed it in one go.

“Ugh. Is this the price of dating a top star? Poor Kang Seohyuk.”

Another chat request popped up. She ignored it.

“My head hurts…”

The footage didn’t show her face—thank god for that dark parking lot lighting. But if Donghee unnie saw the video, she’d recognize that jacket immediately.

Last fall, Donghee had given it to her—a luxury pink blazer she’d planned to wear after losing weight. Ara had casually thrown it on during the Busan trip.

If Donghee saw that video, she’d know instantly. And the slap. That damn slap.

How was she supposed to explain that? That they just happened to bump into each other and he said something drunk and stupid? Or that he begged her to wake him up?

None of it would excuse the slap. No way.

“Would she really leak it though?”

Even that crazy fan wouldn’t risk it. The only one hurt by it would be Kang Seohyuk.

***

Meanwhile, Shim Miok had been on edge ever since her strange conversation with Ara. She was distracted, messing up constantly.

“Miok, where’s the designer scarf we brought?”

“Oh! I think it’s in the car. I’ll get it right away!”

They were filming a commercial on a mountain at sunrise, and everything had to be set up before dawn.

The stylist snapped.

“What is going on with you lately? You can’t even keep track of a simple prop. If you’re that busy, hire an assistant already! You’re not some nobody—why are you working alone like this?”

“I’m sorry!” She bit her tongue, swallowing the insult.

Ugh, this b1tch. Acting all high and mighty, looking like a damn gorilla. To be honest, with Seohyuk’s schedule, Miok should have an assistant. But she insisted on doing everything alone so she wouldn’t have to share any time with him.

It took 10 minutes to run back to the car. She charged down the dark slope with only her phone flashlight to guide her.

She couldn’t afford to mess this up. She didn’t want to disappoint Seohyuk. If he ever looked at her with disappointment in his eyes, she’d rather die.

“Huff… huff…”

She reached the car, popped the trunk, grabbed the luxury-branded bag, and bolted back up the mountain.