15ifteen

Lisa's POV

I leaned against my kitchen counter, staring at my phone screen like an idiot.

Jennie hadn't replied.

Not that I expected her to—her plane had probably taken off by now. But a part of me still hoped she'd sneak in one last message before disappearing into her chaotic world in Paris.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. This was getting ridiculous.

A few weeks ago, I was just some nameless person in her life—someone she didn't even know existed. And now? Now I was texting her, fucking her, and overthinking whether she'd reply to my messages.

What the hell was happening to me?

I should be getting ready for my shift, but my mind was stuck—stuck on the way she looked at me at the airport.

Even with all those cameras flashing in her face, even with fans screaming her name, for a brief second, she looked at me.

And when she did, everything else blurred.

I don't know what I expected. Maybe a small smile, maybe a nod of acknowledgment. But no—Jennie Kim was Jennie Kim. She didn't smile, didn't react. She just kept walking, disappearing behind her security team like I was nothing more than a passing stranger.

And it shouldn't bother me.

It really, really shouldn't.

I groaned, pushing away from the counter and walking to the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water. I took a few gulps, hoping the chill would shock some sense into me.

But the more I tried to shake it off, the more it clung to me.

This wasn't supposed to be like this.

Jennie and I had a deal.

She wanted me for sex—nothing more, nothing less. She wasn't my girlfriend. I wasn't her girlfriend. I wasn't even supposed to be this involved.

So why the hell did I go to the airport just to see her off?

I could've gone straight home after my shift. Could've ignored the fact that she was flying out today. But no, I had to go and watch her from afar like some lovesick idiot.

I ran a frustrated hand down my face and grabbed my jacket. Enough of this shit.

I needed to get out of my head.

As I slipped my phone into my pocket, my fingers hesitated over the screen. One last check. Just in case.

Still nothing.

Of course.

I let out a breath and shoved the phone back in my pocket.

She was busy. She had Paris, fashion week, and a whole damn career to focus on.

And I had...

I glanced around my small, cramped apartment. The flickering kitchen light. The second-hand furniture. The cheap tiled floors that had seen better days.

Yeah.

Jennie Kim was in a different world.

And I needed to remember that.

Still...

I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't be checking my phone the second my shift ended.

--

I pull my hood lower as I step through the dark alley, my boots hitting the cracked pavement. The neon sign above the gym flickers, buzzing like it's on its last breath. This place has always looked like shit, but to me, it's home. A shitty home, but home nonetheless.

I push open the heavy metal door, and the familiar stench of sweat, leather, and blood hits me instantly. Inside, guys are already training—punching bags swinging, gloves hitting flesh, curses flying. It's just another night in the only world I've ever known.

"You're late."

I glance over at my coach, an old man with scars and regrets lining his face. He barely looks up from wrapping some kid's hands.

"Had something to do," I mutter, tossing my bag aside and peeling off my hoodie. My body still aches from the last fight, but pain is normal. Pain reminds me I'm still here.

Coach eyes me for a second, like he can read my mind. I hate that.

"You distracted?"

I don't answer right away. My jaw tightens, my fingers flex. Am I distracted? Yeah. Yeah, I fucking am.

Three days. Three days since I last saw Jennie. Three days since I watched her disappear into that airport, cameras flashing, fans screaming. Three days since she stopped replying to my texts. And still, she's in my head like a damn song I can't turn off.

I roll my shoulders and force myself to smirk. "Not at all."

He doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push.

"Get in the ring."

I climb in without hesitation. The second my gloves tighten around my fists, the second my feet plant firm against the mat, I let everything else fade.

The world outside this ring? It doesn't exist.

Not my debt.

Not the loan sharks breathing down my neck.

Not the fact that I don't know how much longer I can keep up this life.

And definitely not Jennie Kim, who has no idea that the girl she's been texting is the same one who fights in basements for cash.

I throw the first punch. My knuckles slam into my opponent's gloves, and I move without thinking. Dodging. Weaving. Striking.

This is what I know. This is survival.

Jennie can't ever see this side of me.

She belongs in a world of flashing lights and designer gowns, private jets, and million-dollar contracts. Me? I belong here. In the dirt, in the fight, in the kind of life where people like her and people like me don't mix.

No matter how much I want to see her again.

No matter how much I already know I'm fucked.

I barely even register the cheers.

Sweat drips down my face, my knuckles sting, and my ribs throb, but I don't care. My opponent is flat on his back, groaning in pain, and the referee's already raised my hand. Another win. Another paycheck. Another fucking night where I survive.

But survival is temporary in my world.

The second I step out of the ring, they're waiting for me.

The loan sharks.

Four of them, standing in the dimly lit corner of the gym like they own the place. And in a way, they do. Because they own me.

"Nice fight, Manoban," one of them sneers. He's the leader, Kang—slicked-back hair, gold rings on his fingers, and a permanent smirk that makes my skin crawl. "Made us a lot of money tonight."

I don't respond. I just grab my towel and wipe the blood from my lip.

Another guy, the one with the scar down his cheek, chuckles. "You know, boss, I think our little fighter here is getting too comfortable. Winning all these easy fights. Maybe it's time we up the stakes."

Something about the way he says it makes my stomach twist.

Kang pulls a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it slow. "You're fighting again. Next week."

I scoff. "I just fought."

"Yeah? And?" He blows out a puff of smoke, looking me over like I'm nothing but property. "Next match is different. Not boxing."

My jaw tightens. "Then what?"

Kang grins. "UFC-style. No gloves. No rules."

My blood turns cold.

"That's not my thing," I say flatly.

"It is now."

I shake my head, tossing my towel into my bag. "Find someone else. I'm done with this shit."

A click.

The sound of a gun cocking.

I freeze.

I don't even have to turn around to know the barrel is pointed at my head.

"You don't get to say no," Kang says, voice dripping with amusement. "You owe us, Lisa. Or did you forget?"

I clench my fists. I haven't forgotten. I'll never forget.

My silence makes him chuckle. "See, here's the thing. This isn't some friendly little boxing match. This is a fight to the fucking death. You win, you live. You lose?" He leans in, his voice dropping. "You die in that ring."

My breath is steady, my face unreadable, but inside? Inside, I'm screaming.

He pats my shoulder. "Good talk. Train hard, Manoban. Don't disappoint us."

With that, the gun disappears, and they walk out, laughing like they didn't just threaten my life.

I stand there, fists clenched, breathing through the rage, the fear, the fucking helplessness.

I need to get out.

But there's no way out.

I exhale slowly, forcing myself to stay calm, even though my heart is pounding against my ribs like it's trying to break free.

If I go into that fight next week, I'm dead. Simple as that. I might be good—hell, I might even be the best in this underground circuit—but a no-rules UFC fight? That's an entirely different beast. No gloves. No limits. It's not about skill; it's about survival. And I know damn well that in that kind of fight, I won't make it out in one piece.

I glance at Kang, still lounging like he owns the world, cigarette hanging from his lips, watching me with that smug grin.

I swallow my pride and speak. "Look, you guys know I make you a lot of money."

Kang raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? So?"

"So if I die next week, that's your loss too." I keep my voice even, calculated. "You've seen how much I pull in for you. People bet big when I fight. You really wanna throw all that away just to rush me into a match I have no chance of surviving?"

The guy with the scar down his cheek chuckles. "Sounds like someone's scared."

"I'd be an idiot not to be," I snap back, locking eyes with Kang. "But I'm also not stupid. If you want me to fight in that kind of match, I need time. At least six months. If I go in next week, I won't last. And if I don't last, neither does your money."

Kang taps his cigarette, letting the ashes fall to the ground, silent for a few seconds. Then he chuckles. "You make a good point, Manoban."

Relief washes over me, but I don't let it show. Not yet.

"Fine," he says, standing up, towering over me. "Six months. But you better train like your life depends on it." He leans in, voice low. "Because it fucking does."

I nod, not daring to breathe just yet.

"And don't even think about running," Kang adds with a smirk. "We'll find you. And if we don't? We'll find your little friends instead."

My stomach tightens.

They don't know about Jennie.

Maybe Jisoo?

They can't.

I force a smirk onto my face, playing it cool. "I'm not going anywhere."

Kang laughs, clapping me on the shoulder like we're old pals. "That's what I like to hear. Now get outta here and start training."

I nod once and turn away, walking out of the gym, keeping my steps steady, my breathing even.

But inside?

Inside, I know I just bought myself time.

Six months.

Six months to figure out how the hell I'm gonna get out of this.

-

As I walked home, every step felt like my body was tearing itself apart. My ribs ached so badly that even breathing was a chore, and I knew at least two of them were cracked—maybe worse. My knuckles were raw, my jaw throbbed from that one punch I didn't dodge in time, and my entire body felt like lead.

I just wanted to get home, take a long-ass shower, and pass the fuck out.

But, of course, my night wasn't over yet.

"Yah! Lalisa Manoban!"

I flinched at the sudden voice, my body tensing out of habit before I even turned around. But when I saw who it was, I let out a deep sigh.

Jisoo.

She stood a few feet away, arms crossed, wearing that same unimpressed look she always had when she was about to nag me. Her sharp eyes scanned me from head to toe, and I already knew she was assessing the damage.

"You look like shit," she deadpanned.

"Nice to see you too," I muttered, pulling my hoodie tighter around me, as if that would somehow hide the bruises.

Jisoo fell into step beside me without another word, walking like she had all the time in the world. After a few moments, she let out a long sigh.

"You really did it again, huh?"

I didn't answer. What was the point? She already knew.

"You know one of these days, you're not gonna walk out of that ring."

I snorted. "Wow, such encouragement. Thanks, Jisoo. Really feeling the love here."

She ignored my sarcasm. "How bad is it?"

"Not the worst," I lied, even though every single breath sent a sharp pain through my ribs.

Jisoo didn't even blink. "So, at least two broken ribs?"

I sighed. "Maybe."

She muttered something under her breath, shaking her head. I didn't bother asking what she said.

Then, out of nowhere, she dropped, "I'm staying at your place for a while."

I blinked at her. "What?"

"You heard me," she said, hands in her pockets, not even looking at me. "You need someone to make sure you don't die in your sleep or something."

"I'm fine, Jisoo—"

"Shut up," she cut me off, giving me a pointed look. "You're not fine. You never are after these fights, and don't think I don't know you're barely eating properly, either. I don't care if you agree or not—I'm staying."

I sighed heavily. There was no arguing with Jisoo when she made up her mind.

"Fine," I muttered. "Just don't touch my stuff."

She smirked. "No promises."

We walked in silence for a while before I finally asked, "Why aren't you in Paris?"

Jisoo raised a brow. "Why aren't you in Paris?"

I rolled my eyes. "I asked first."

She let out a small chuckle. "Jennie flew earlier than expected. Chanel demanded she be there sooner. So I'll be flying out later this week instead."

I hummed in understanding.

"Why didn't you go to the airport to see her off?" Jisoo asked, side-eyeing me.

I shrugged. "I did."

She tilted her head, surprised. "You did?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "Didn't stick around, though. Too many cameras."

Jisoo studied me for a second. "And?"

"And what?" I frowned.

"You two are texting, right?"

I hesitated for a second before answering. "Yeah."

She hummed again, nodding like she expected that answer. "You like her?"

I scoffed. "What kind of question is that?"

"A simple one."

I didn't answer.

Jisoo didn't push. She just sighed and muttered, "You're an idiot."

"Thanks, really needed to hear that."

"Anytime."

By the time we reached my apartment, my body was screaming for rest. I fumbled with my keys, pushing the door open, and Jisoo walked in like she owned the place.

She flopped onto my couch, stretching out. "Damn, forgot how shitty this place is."

"Then go home," I muttered, kicking off my shoes.

"Nah," she grinned. "I'll stay. You need me."

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue.

Because maybe—just maybe—she was right.

-

I groaned as I peeled off my hoodie, the fabric sticking to my skin from dried sweat and a bit of blood. My body was screaming at me—every bruise, every cracked rib, every muscle that had taken a beating tonight was making itself known.

Jisoo was already in my tiny kitchen, moving around like she owned the place. She had pulled out whatever leftovers I had in the fridge, which wasn't much, but knowing her, she'd make something out of nothing.

"Take a damn shower," she called out without looking at me. "You smell like a corpse."

"Wow," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Such a way with words, Kim Jisoo."

"You love me," she shot back.

I flipped her off before dragging myself to the bathroom.

The second the hot water hit my skin, I nearly groaned in relief. It stung like hell over my busted knuckles and bruised ribs, but it also loosened the tension in my aching muscles. I let my head fall forward, letting the water cascade down my back, trying to wash away the exhaustion.

Six months.

That's all I had to prepare for a fight that might kill me.

I clenched my jaw. I needed to find a way out of this.

But how?

Shaking the thought away, I grabbed my soap and scrubbed away the grime and sweat, taking extra care around my injuries. By the time I was done, the scent of food had filled my tiny apartment, making my stomach growl despite the dull pain in my ribs.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing another towel through my damp hair.

Jisoo was standing at my stove, stirring something in a pan. She glanced at me once, then immediately turned back, clicking her tongue.

"Could've put on a shirt," she muttered.

"Could've minded your business," I shot back, smirking.

She scoffed. "Sit. Eat."

I walked over, glancing at the two plates of fried rice she had made. It wasn't anything fancy, but it smelled amazing.

"Didn't know you could cook," I muttered, pulling out a chair.

She smirked. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Limario."

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue. Instead, I grabbed my spoon and took a bite. The second the warm rice hit my tongue, I let out an appreciative hum.

"Shit, this is good," I admitted.

Jisoo leaned back in her chair, looking smug. "Duh. I'm a woman of many talents."

I chuckled, shaking my head. For a moment, it felt... normal. Like I wasn't drowning in debt, like I wasn't being forced into a fight that could kill me, like I wasn't lying to Jennie about my entire life.

But reality had a way of creeping back in.

Jisoo must've sensed my shift in mood because she sighed, setting her spoon down.

"What's your plan?" she asked.

I took another bite before answering. "Survive."

She didn't look impressed. "That's not a plan. That's wishful thinking."

I shrugged. "It's all I got right now."

Jisoo sighed again, but she didn't push. Instead, she just nodded, taking another bite.

We ate in silence after that, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Six months.

Somehow, I had to make it out of this alive.

Jisoo took a long sip of her water before setting the glass down with a smirk. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, looking at me like she had me all figured out.

"So," she started, drawing out the word. "You and Jennie, huh?"

I paused, my spoon halfway to my mouth. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Lisa. I may not be around all the time, but I see things."

I snorted. "The hell are you talking about?"

Jisoo wiggled her eyebrows. "So, you're not texting Jennie Kim?"

I hesitated. Jisoo caught it immediately, her smirk widening.

"Knew it," she said smugly.

I sighed, rubbing my face. Maybe it was time to come clean. Jisoo already knew too much, and honestly, if there was anyone I could trust, it was her.

"Alright, fine," I muttered, setting my spoon down. "Yeah, I've been talking to Jennie."

Jisoo nodded, urging me to continue.

"And... we have a deal."

Jisoo's brows furrowed. "A deal?"

I exhaled deeply, bracing myself. "She's paying me."

Silence.

Jisoo blinked. "Paying you for what?"

I met her gaze. "Sex."

The reaction was immediate. Jisoo choked on her drink, coughing hard as she pounded her chest.

"WHAT?!" she practically screeched.

I winced. "Damn, lower your voice!"

"Lower my—Lisa, are you serious?" Jisoo gaped at me like I had just told her I committed a crime.

I nodded, watching her carefully.

Jisoo shook her head, looking completely baffled. "Hold on, hold on. You're telling me... Jennie Kim—THE Jennie Kim—my boss, a worldwide superstar, the most sought-after idol, is paying YOU to have sex with her?"

"Pretty much," I confirmed.

Jisoo's mouth opened, then closed, like she was struggling to process it. "Why the hell would she need to pay for sex? She could snap her fingers and have anyone she wants!"

I shrugged. "That's what I thought at first, too. But I don't think it's just about sex for her. She said she didn't want attachments, didn't want emotions involved, and this was the safest way for her."

Jisoo leaned back, still looking stunned. Then, after a moment, she let out a breathy chuckle.

"So, Jennie's a dirty little slut too," she muttered, shaking her head.

I immediately shot her a glare. "She's not a slut."

Jisoo raised an eyebrow at me. "Lisa. She's paying you for sex."

"And?" I shot back. "That doesn't make her a slut. She's not sleeping around. She's not out here with random people every night. She came to me because it was easier for her, because she trusts me enough to keep it a secret. So don't call her that."

Jisoo stared at me for a moment before breaking into a knowing grin. "Ohhh. Look at you, getting all defensive."

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up."

"Wait—" Jisoo gasped, eyes widening. "You actually like her, don't you?"

I froze.

Jisoo smirked like she had just won the lottery. "Oh my god. You do."

"Jisoo, shut the hell up," I muttered, grabbing my plate and walking toward the sink.

Jisoo cackled, following me. "Lisa Manoban, the heartless, emotionless player, actually caught feelings."

"Shut up," I repeated, but she was having way too much fun with this.

"Wow," she mused, crossing her arms. "This is gonna be fun to watch."

I shot her a glare over my shoulder. "Nothing is happening. It's just a deal. That's it."

Jisoo smirked. "Sure, Lisa. Keep telling yourself that."

--

After finishing my meal, I leaned back in my chair with a groan. My body ached everywhere, and I could feel the bruises forming under my skin. The exhaustion from the fight was finally catching up to me.

"I need to lay down," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.

Jisoo, still smirking from our earlier conversation, shrugged. "Go ahead. I'll clean up."

I didn't argue, just dragged myself toward my bed, collapsing onto it with a sigh. My body sank into the mattress, and for a second, I just stared at the ceiling, letting the dull pain settle in.

After a moment, I reached for my phone, unlocking it lazily—and that's when I saw it.

Jennie's texts.

Jennie: What are you doing?

Jennie: Busy?

Jennie: I swear if you're working at that bar again, I'll—

Jennie: Whatever.

Jennie: You're annoying.

I exhaled through my nose, a small smirk forming. Jennie was so predictable. I could almost hear her frustrated voice in my head. She acted like she didn't care, but the way she kept checking in said otherwise.

I typed out a quick response.

Me: Just finished eating. You?

A few minutes passed, and I wondered if she had already gone to bed, but then my phone vibrated.

Jennie: Finally. Took you long enough.

Jennie: I just got to my hotel. I have early schedules tomorrow.

Me: Sounds exhausting.

Jennie: It is. You should feel bad for me.

I chuckled, shaking my head.

Me: I do. But you love the attention.

Jennie: Obviously. I was born for this.

I could practically see her flipping her hair in arrogance.

Jennie: So, what were you doing all day?

I hesitated. I couldn't exactly tell her I had just won a brutal underground fight and gotten roped into an even deadlier match six months from now.

Me: Just working.

Jennie: Which one?

Damn. I should've expected her to ask.

Me: Coffee shop.

A few seconds passed before she responded.

Jennie: You better not be lying.

I stared at her message longer than I should have.

Me: Why would I lie?

Jennie: You tell me.

I sighed. She was too sharp for her own good sometimes.

Me: Just get some sleep, superstar. You have a long day tomorrow.

Jennie: Don't tell me what to do.

Me: Okay, then don't sleep. See if I care.

She didn't reply right away, and I assumed she was rolling her eyes at her phone. After a while, another text popped up.

Jennie: I'll text you tomorrow.

Me: I'll be waiting.

I put my phone down, staring at the ceiling again.

Jennie Kim was something else.

Just as I was about to close my eyes, my phone vibrated again.

Jennie: Can we call?

My brows lifted. I stared at the message for a second, a little surprised. Jennie wasn't the type to just ask for things like this. If she wanted to talk, she'd usually just call without warning.

I smirked.

Me: Why? Miss me already?

Her reply came instantly.

Jennie: Don't flatter yourself. Just pick up.

Before I could even type something back, my phone started ringing. Of course. I chuckled under my breath and answered.

"Didn't even wait for me to say yes, huh?" I teased.

Jennie scoffed on the other end. "You're acting like I need permission."

I grinned, turning on my side to get more comfortable. "Fair point."

There was a brief silence, just the sound of her breathing. It wasn't awkward, though. Just... quiet.

"So," I said. "What's up? Can't sleep?"

She huffed. "I don't know why I even called you. You're useless."

I laughed. "Then hang up."

"Tch." I could picture her rolling her eyes. "No."

"Figures," I murmured, still grinning.

The conversation drifted into small talk—her complaining about her early morning schedules, me pretending I wasn't listening to her voice like it was the only thing keeping me awake. She wasn't saying anything particularly important, just ranting about work, but I liked hearing it. It was normal.

Then, just as I was about to respond to something she said, my bedroom door swung open, and Jisoo strutted in. She flopped onto the bed right next to me, stretching like a lazy cat.

"I'm sleeping here," she announced.

Jennie went silent on the other end.

I blinked, glancing at Jisoo. "Uh—"

Before I could explain, the line went dead.

I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at the screen.

"She hung up," I muttered.

Jisoo, who was now comfortably curled up beside me, peeked up with a mischievous smirk. "Oh? Did I just cause some drama?"

I groaned, rubbing my face. "Why are you even here?"

"You should be thanking me. I'm making sure you don't have to sleep alone in this depressing place," she teased.

I exhaled sharply, staring at my phone again.

Jennie definitely misunderstood.

---

Boring chapter but need to be done for the plot LOL

Comments for motivation... maybe I'll double update if I like some comments lol