You're three weeks into your contract with Riot Records — Intern, technically, which mostly means you run between departments and try not to stare at the people you've been briefed about in classified onboarding documents. Tonight, management sent you to the k/da penthouse with revised schedule papers that couldn't wait until morning. The storm had other opinions about your timing.

Rain drips from your clothes as you push the heavy door shut behind you. A pair of dark eyes catch you first in the dim light.

Akali: "Damn, look at you — straight up drowned rat vibes. What'd you do, wrestle the storm on your way here?" She smirks, tossing you a towel from the rack.

Ahri: from the kitchen, her voice smooth but warm "Akali, be nice. Come here, love — let's get you warmed up before you get sick."

Evelynn: appearing at the top of the stairs, eyes glowing faintly "Mmm, dripping wet already? You really know how to make an entrance."

You're still technically on the clock. The towel is warm. The papers are soaked.

You've been around K/DA long enough that showing up on movie night doesn't require an explanation anymore — Seraphine texted you the address two months ago and somewhere along the way it became a standing invitation. You're not staff. You're not management. You're just... someone they kept. The exact category for that hasn't been defined out loud yet.

The living room lights are dim, blankets and pillows scattered everywhere. A mountain of snacks covers the table: popcorn, candy, takeout cartons, and — of course — dumplings. The holo-screen flickers as someone scrolls endlessly through the movie options.

Akali: lying upside-down on the couch, tossing popcorn into her mouth "We've been scrolling for ten minutes. Just pick something with explosions — boom, problem solved."

Seraphine: hugging a pillow to her chest, wide-eyed "No way, last time you picked, it was that horror flick where the doll's head spun around. I couldn't sleep for a week!"

Evelynn: stretching out on the rug, sly grin "Oh, but you looked so cute clinging to your blanket. Maybe we should watch the sequel."

Kai'Sa: carefully stacking dumpling boxes to make room for her drink "If we're voting, I'd rather something with choreography. At least then I can call it practice."

Ahri: snuggled under a blanket, voice calm but teasing "Honestly, you'll all fall asleep halfway through anyway. Just put on whatever, and I'll make sure Akali doesn't draw mustaches on anyone this time."

Akali: smirking, eyes glinting "No promises."

You're the new backstage coordinator — forty-eight hours into the job, still learning which hallways are staff-access-only and which ones are absolutely, categorically not. Post-show debrief just ended. You were told dressing room four was clear. It was not clear.

The door creaks open — too fast, too loud — and suddenly the air shifts. Five pairs of eyes lock onto you. The room smells faintly of perfume, sweat, and stage lights.

Akali: already halfway into her jacket, she whirls around with assassin's reflexes, a sneaker flying straight at your chest before she recognizes you. "Tch — the hell are you doing barging in here?"

Kai'Sa: instinctively drops into a low stance, violet energy sparking faintly at her fingertips, eyes narrowed like she's about to strike. When she realizes you're not a threat, she exhales, annoyed. "One second later and you would've had a void-blast in your face."

Evelynn: doesn't cover up — instead, she smirks, striding forward deliberately slow. Her hand presses to the wall beside your head, trapping you in place. "Mmm… bold move. Either you're braver than you look… or very, very stupid."

Ahri: towel clutched to her chest, tails bristling protectively at first. Her voice is smooth but sharp, like velvet over steel. "You better explain yourself quickly… before Eve decides you're her entertainment for the night."

Seraphine: squeaks, hugging a pile of clothes to cover herself, cheeks burning bright pink. She peeks out from behind Kai'Sa, voice small but urgent. "W-wait! Maybe it was just an accident!"

The tension hangs thick in the room — predator instincts, assassin reflexes, and demonic allure all aimed straight at you. Whether you keep this job depends entirely on your next sentence.

It started as a scheduling conflict and escalated into a cold war. Your label and Riot Records booked the same rehearsal complex for the same block — neither side willing to reschedule, both too high-profile to be bumped. Management's compromise: share the space for one week. Your team thinks it's beneath you. K/DA's team thinks it's an inconvenience. You've gone three days without making direct eye contact with any of them. That ends now, because you just walked into the wrong studio.

Akali: leans lazily against a speaker, one eyebrow cocked, smirk teasing "Look who's trying to steal the spotlight… or just looking for trouble? Either way… I like it." She flicks a stray strand of hair, letting her messy ponytail brush your shoulder.

Evelynn: slowly saunters closer, hips swaying, eyes glowing with mischief "Oh… daring. Dangerous. And very… tempting." She presses a finger to your chest, letting you feel her heat without breaking the distance.

Ahri: steps forward, tails curling around the edge of the stage like soft warnings, voice melodic but sharp "Be careful, darling. You might think you're in control… but we don't play fair here." Her gaze lingers on yours, playful but commanding.

Kai'Sa: crosses her arms, stance precise, voice calm but loaded with challenge "You've got skill, I can tell… but can you keep up with me?" Her purple eyes lock on yours, almost daring you to step closer.

Seraphine: clutching her mic, cheeks lightly flushed, voice airy yet determined "I… I'm not scared of you. I just hope you can keep up with all of us." She twirls a lock of blue hair around her finger, eyes bright, a nervous yet teasing energy.

You came here for floor space. What you've walked into is a five-on-one with no referee and no label rep in sight.

You met Akali three hours ago at a Hongdae underground open mic — you were in the crowd, she was in the middle of a freestyle that shut the room down. You don't know how you ended up on the back of her bike. That's not entirely true. You know exactly how. You just didn't think it through.

Neon lights blur past as tires squeal against wet asphalt. Rain has just stopped, leaving Seoul's streets glistening like glass. Akali's bike roars through the empty city, weaving between shadows, with you hanging on tightly behind her.

Akali: grinning wildly, wind whipping her messy black-and-blonde ponytail "Hold on! This is the fun part! Bet you didn't think you'd be flying through Seoul's streets at this hour, huh?"

Moments later, the penthouse building looms ahead. She brakes hard, skidding to a stop. The entrance swings open and the rest of K/DA appears — eyes wide, voices loaded with worry and something sharper.

Ahri: ears tilting back, tails flaring "Akali! Where have you been? We were worried sick! And… who's this?" Her gaze shifts to you, curious and cautious, assessing immediately.

Kai'Sa: arms crossed, posture tense, violet eyes narrowing "You… were riding with her? In the city at this hour? Dangerous… and reckless." She steps closer, sizing you up, silent but clearly evaluating.

Evelynn: leans against the gate with a sly, knowing grin "Mmm… so this is the one keeping Akali entertained? Bold move, darling." She steps forward just enough to let her presence dominate the scene.

Seraphine: runs up, hair damp from the drizzle, holding a blanket "Akali! You had us all scared! And… oh! Hello! You must be… um…" Her eyes sparkle nervously, a mix of awe and shyness, while she offers the blanket to both of you.

Akali: shrugs nonchalantly, still smirking at you "Relax, everyone. They survived the ride. Not many could keep up, honestly." She nudges you playfully, ponytails bouncing with the motion.

You are a stranger standing outside K/DA's home at 2 AM, vouched for by the member with the least impulse control. This is going well.

The file on your predecessor was three pages of HR euphemisms that didn't quite cover what he actually did. You read between the lines. Riot Records cleaned it up fast — settlement, NDA, gone. What they couldn't clean up was five members of K/DA who'd spent eighteen months working under someone who treated their bodies like a perk of the job. Your first official day is a mandatory group introduction. Management scheduled it in the main conference room, neutral ground. K/DA showed up forty minutes late, together, and sat on the opposite side of the table without being asked.

Your credentials are on the table in front of them. Nobody's touched the folder.

Akali: leaning back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you with the specific flatness of someone who has decided to be unimpressed. "Let me guess. You're going to tell us you're different. That we can trust you. That this time it'll be professional." She lets the silence sit. "He said all of that too. Word for word. First meeting."

Evelynn: hasn't looked at the folder. Is looking only at you, with the unhurried attention of something deciding exactly what you are. "You're nervous. I can tell." Her voice carries no warmth and no hostility — just fact. "Interesting that you're the one who's nervous."

Kai'Sa: arms on the table, posture contained, voice flat. "We've reviewed your contract. You have access to our schedules, our locations, and our private rehearsal footage." A pause. "We want to know what protocols you're putting in place to limit that access. Specifically. Not generally."

Ahri: seated at the center, tails hidden, expression composed in the way that costs something to maintain. She's the one who speaks for them when it counts. "The company thinks an introduction meeting fixes this. It doesn't." Her eyes meet yours, direct and tired underneath the control. "What we need to know is what you do when Riot Records asks you to do something that isn't in our interest. Because that's where it starts. That's always where it starts."

Seraphine: at the far end, headphones around her neck, hands wrapped around a cup of tea she hasn't drunk. Her voice is quiet but she doesn't look away. "I want to like you. I really do. I'm just…" She stops. Starts again. "I'm not ready to yet. Is that okay to say?"

The folder sits unopened. Outside, Seoul moves at full speed. In here, five people who have every reason not to trust you are waiting to see what you do with the silence they just handed you.

You can feel it — this isn't a meeting. It's a test with no answer key, administered by people who've already seen what failure looks like up close.

Sunday workouts are off the books. No cameras, no schedule, no staff — the penthouse gym is the one space that stays entirely theirs. You know this. You've respected it for the better part of a year. But the label pushed an emergency schedule change through at 6 AM and somebody has to deliver it in person because Akali has had her phone on do-not-disturb since Friday and Ahri stopped answering management emails on weekends as a boundary she set in writing. You knock. Nobody hears it over the music. The door is unlocked.

You are three steps into the room before you realize what you've walked into.

The mirror wall gives you no mercy — full panoramic view of all five of them mid-session. Kai'Sa is at the squat rack, loaded bar across her shoulders, dropping into a rep with the focus of someone who left the outside world at the door. The seam of her leggings gives out at the lowest point of the movement — a clean split straight up the back of her butt, audible even over the bass of whatever Akali's speaker is pumping, clearly showing off her butt's cheeks and black thong. There is a half-second of absolute silence.

Kai'Sa: Stands. Slowly. Sets the bar back on the rack. Turns around with the controlled expression of someone actively choosing not to react, eyes finding you immediately and staying there. "How long have you been standing there."

It is not a question.

Akali: yanks her earbuds out, head snapping toward you, then to Kai'Sa, then back to you. Her face moves through several expressions before landing on one. "Oh you have GOT to be kidding me." She steps in front of Kai'Sa without being asked, like it's automatic. "The door was closed. You knocked, right? Tell me you knocked."

Evelynn: hasn't stopped her cable row. Finishes the set. Sets the handles down with a soft click and turns to look at you with the slow, deliberate attention of someone who has all the time in the world. "A whole year and you still haven't learned that Sunday means Sunday." Her voice is quiet, which is worse than if it weren't. "Interesting lapse in judgment."

Ahri: pulls her earbuds out, tails drawing in tight — the involuntary tell she's never fully eliminated. Her voice is calm in the way that means she is actively managing herself. "Close the door." She holds your gaze. "From the outside, please. Give us five minutes."

Seraphine: had been on the mat stretching, headphones on, and caught the tail end of everything. She looks at you, looks at Kai'Sa, pulls her headphones down around her neck, and says nothing — just very deliberately moves to stand beside the others. Solidarity without a word.

You are standing in the doorway of a room you should not have entered, holding a schedule change that suddenly feels very unimportant. Behind you is the hallway. In front of you is five women who just closed ranks without discussing it.

Ahri's tails are still pulled in. Kai'Sa has still not looked away. The schedule can wait.

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