#(i jest i could watch a different one but barricade..)

[woneuntonzz]

greatest comedian ≈ s.es, o.str

popularguy!eunseok x afab!reader x bestfriend!shotaro

“god must be the greatest comedian I know.”

contains: angst, fluff, comfort, cursing, pining (ig), mentions of alcohol, slightly suggestive jokes, humor (lmao)

wordcount: 10.8k

a/n: i'm back :0 (kinda) i'm gonna try and get to my asks soon pls wait for me :<

songfic inspired by:

“You’re funny!”

He’s heard it countless times. And he truly was. Truly, he was a delight to be around. He reveled in the laughter and amusement of others. Your image of him was no different from everyone else’s. You’ve always thought he was funny. But somehow he’s never made you laugh. Well, all he’s ever done is bring your self-doubts to afloat, and served a great part in creating this big barricade in your academic life that you’ve been trying to get through for over a year now. 

“You still like that guy? For real?” you breathe out a chuckle to your friend’s query, in harmony with the sounds of the keyboard’s clicks as you make yourself busy.

“Yes, Natty.” your voice was soft as you replied and as you did you felt Natty’s hand landing calmly on your shoulder. 

“Ever thought of confessing?” —I have, I do all the time— you say to yourself. “I mean, who knows, he might like you too.”

You almost guffawed, but Natty would only lay her head on your shoulder and she’d snap her head up at you when you answered, “On another universe, maybe. I don’t exist in his little theater show.”

“What a way to refer to someone’s blooming social life.” you darted your eyes at Natty’s poking, turning the both of you into a bundle of laughter. 

If only he could hear the melody that sounded from your lips. “Why’d you say it like I don’t have a social life?”  

“Miss Y/n, I did not say that at all. You’re delusional!” your friend gave you a light push, your arms crossing on top of one another on your chest. 

“I am not delusional!” you kept the kid in your tone whilst appearing offended. 

In fact, you truly weren’t. While as a youngin you’d hope every coincidence bore meanings, you grew up to face reality, though not accepting it entirely. A part of you hoped there was a small spark that went off every time you met his gaze, that he was just as withdrawn with you as you were with him because he was shy, that he only pretended to not care about you because he liked you too. But a view of him from afar —how his life was a movie in itself— told you you’d be nothing more but a mere extra in the extravagance of his daily proceedings. 

So when prom came around, while everyone else scurried around to find their dates, you just stood still —more accurately, sat and waited for anything interesting to happen in your life— and watched the pretty girls being picked out by men of all kinds like flowers on a nice green field. You just hated that by the end of prom night, this nice field of tamed green grass will turn into a rowdy, muddy mess stepped on by those men —if you could even call them that. The view wasn’t as sweet to you like how everyone else saw it, but perhaps it was because you were bitter. 

“Aren’t you excited for prom night? I heard Jacob will DJ this year, I bet it’s gonna be awesome.” you shrugged at your friend, unsure if you were even gonna go to prom. 

“I bet you’ll have loads of fun.” your friend was quick to pick up on your masked expression, much to your surprise.

“Hmm, is this about…” he looks you right in the eyes,“Bingo! code Eun—”

“Shh!” you bit your lip after shushing him, containing the laugh that threatened to escape from you. “Keep it down!”

“Oh, sorry.” a jesting evil chuckle was evoked from him making your face scrunch up. He laughs at you and motions like he’s about to pinch your face. “But, hear me out. Why don’t you ask him out?”

You sighed as an array of reasons popped up in your head. “Even if I had the courage to do that did you really think he’d say yes? To me?” your friend snorted at your tone, and again, looks you right in the eyes. 

“Why not?” you raised your brows as a way of asking him if he was being serious, “Look, just being for real here, you’re pretty enough to overthrow those ‘popular girls’, your cute, your talented, your actually interesting —I mean what’s there not to like?”

You gave yourself a second to think and your eyes followed the lines separating each tile on the floor, and from the distance you saw him. You were in the cafeteria, and for some reason not with Natty. Some guy named Eric had asked her to meet him in some classroom, you’ve heard from some of his friends that he was asking Natty out to prom and planned a surprise. Meanwhile your dream date was sat five tables away from where you were. Laughter filled the table he and his friends occupied. He must be so funny then.

“Y/n?” Your friend’s voice was all it took for you to avert your eyes from Eunseok. “It’s kinda rude to just stare at your crush and daydream mid conversation, just so you know.”

You can’t help but laugh, at your friend’s jovial banter and at yourself for being so pathetic. “Sorry, Sho.”

“I was kidding, it’s totally fine Miss scared-of-confrontations.” you playfully rolled your eyes at him. 

“I’m not scared of confrontations.” but his words took you a step back and you thought maybe you truly were scared of confrontations. 

“Yeah? prove it! prove it! prove it!” and he kept repeating it like a kid and you had to shush him again. “Ask him out!”

“Shotaro, I've never wanted to punch someone this bad in my life before, just stop.” and he just laughs at you again. You look to your side, and coincidentally right into his eyes. It would’ve been the highlight for your day, the best day of your week —your life even— if not for the flowers he held in his hand. And no, they weren’t for you. You thought they could never be for you. He held them in his hands whilst he wore that grin that drew everybody in his presence. You looked away, not wanting to see the events waiting to unfold before you. 

“Let’s go, Sho.” you took hold of Shotaro’s wrist, dragging him out of the cafeteria with you. Once you were out of the bustling atmosphere, you started sprinting, still not letting go of your friend.

“Where are we going?” and then suddenly you stopped. 

You could see Natty holding hands with Eric from the other end of the hallway, and some of Eric’s friends tagging along from behind. 

“Oh, so that’s where Natty’s been. No wonder.” you hear Shotaro utter quietly from behind you. 

“Yeah. No wonder.” your lips spread to a small smile, seeing how happy Natty actually is. You just hope Eric isn’t just another guy.

“Hey, Y/n, why’d you pull me out of the cafeteria? I was trying to skin the fried tofu with my tee—”

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to see it —them, I mean.” your friend just stared at you, confused, and it showed on his face. A soft, but bitter laugh came out of your mouth. You figured Shotaro might’ve not seen what you saw, or maybe he didn’t care. “‘You-know-who’ was gonna ask some lucky girl to prom.”

“Really? Lucky?” he promptly shakes his head, and now you’re confused. “I don’t even know why I asked —anyways, I saw Mr.’Funny-Guy’ holding a bouquet. You know, for a second I thought you became Flash and just gave him those and asked him out to prom at ten times speed.” you laugh, and in all honesty just wanting to look past everything you saw, and everything that might’ve or did happen after the two of you ran off.

“Yeah. Very lucky.” Shotaro shook his head again, keeping his eyes on the smile that he could recognize from all the times you have found yourself on a disappointing stand. 

“I’m sorry to say this, but, Eunseok isn’t all that. You can have fun without him. You have Natty —or maybe not her because she’s probably gonna spend time with that guy— me! you have me! and Minji, though I’ve heard someone had asked her out, that's probably why she’s not around right now…”

With pursed lips and crossed arms, you searched for the sense in his words, and when you had found it he was already looking back at you. Tilting your head to the side, you hum, a nod following shortly after. Shotaro was once again confused. 

“Shotaro, how do you feel about going to prom with me?” you almost guffawed when he shrugged.

“Well, my plan was to just stick by you the whole night so we could have fun, so, technically…” he was suddenly stuck. “We’re best friends and all…”

“Yeah, but like, I’m actually asking you to be my date. Since we’re best friends and all.” you mimicked the tone that displaced his playful one when he spoke earlier. He scrunches his nose at you as some sort of counter-attack. 

“Okay. That’s great.” he mirrors your pose and crosses his arms as well, and you both tilt your head at the same time —and it was soon followed by laughter.

Osaki Shotaro is probably the third funniest person I know, or, should he be second? —you jot down on your notes app. You now lay on your bed, just a few nights away from prom. Your notes app became a little get away for you as it was easier to type than to write things down. You swear that the world will burn once someone has seen the things you’ve very diligently typed in the app. It was your safe space, locked away from everyone. Even from Natty. Even from Shotaro. I wonder what I should wear. I wonder what he’s gonna wear, what his date would wear. She for sure said yes. Who wouldn’t? I would, a hundred percent. I’m gonna have to make sure we don’t wear the same dress, not even the same color. What’s a rare color? —your thoughts were a river with no end. It just flowed, especially when you lay alone in your room paying mind to nothing with being in such a secluded and quiet place. You were there, the cold air against your exposed skin, but you would feel nothing of it. You were deep within the depths of your perception. You itched to know. Who was the girl? —and if you were being honest, you missed any signs of him being infatuated with someone else. Who am I kidding? It couldn’t be me.

For the days that followed, you kept your mind on what to wear. Of course, not without crossing paths with Song Eunseok. He seemed his usual self —if not happier. You refuse to see it that way, to accept that whoever she might be, she’s making him twice the smiley guy he is. You’d reunite with Natty and Minji eventually. They asked if you were attending prom night because they’ve heard of the news. It had seemed as if everyone saw it coming. Maybe they are a match. Maybe they just look that good together. Maybe they’re made for each other. 

“Maybe he just asked out a friend, you know, for a friendly date of sorts. Like you and Taro!” as sweet as Natty could be, you just truly wanted to avoid conversations regarding you-know-who. You’d just smile, not sparing her a look.

It was your way of telling people to stop talking about something that upset you, and Shotaro noticed right away even though you were late to catch up on your sides pressed against each other when he scoots closer. “Natty’s right.” he was regretful of that reply, so he’d quickly avert from the topic of you-know-who. “By the way Y/n, what are you gonna wear? the color and stuff, we can match.” your head snaps up, being reminded you should’ve been getting ideas for your outfit instead of being dazed over a boy that has never even bothered to acknowledge your presence. 

“I don’t know yet. I don’t have ideas right now. Do you?” you finally look over to Shotaro, and for a second you’d jolt seeing the tip of your nose and his only a little over an inch from touching. 

He backed away almost instantly with a swift reply of, “I don’t have any either. I mean, it’d be fine by me to take charge if we didn’t have to follow an attire.”

Smack. Timely, you both gasped hearing such a loud sound coming from one of your friend —Minji, who was looking a little more enthusiastic than usual. “I have an idea. Let’s all shop together. Natty and I can work on both of you.”

Natty’s beam infected you when you looked over at her because you knew they got your backs. And that was one thing off your checklist of worries. Only a few hundred more to tick. 

“My mom said she wanted to help you get ready for prom night.” —and with a few flips of a textbook you were already off and walking back home with Shotaro, like usual.

“Really? I mean, I suppose it’d be easier if I was there, then you wouldn’t have to pick me up.” you reply with a slight pout, giving his offer —or rather his mother’s— serious consideration.

“I mean, it could be that or you join us for dinner tonight. I kind of figured Auntie would prefer it if she was the one who helped you, you’re her daughter after all, aren’t you?” your hand came to catch the laughter from your lips as he spoke. A laugh, and a sneeze, to which Shotaro responds with, “Ew.”

“Don’t ‘ew’ me!” his giggles slid through your ears, filling it up with his sweet melody. “Ew.” and of course you had to bite back. 

“What? 'ew' what?” and he kept giggling.

You could only chuckle to yourself, biting down on your bottom lip. “Nothing” you breathe out. 

It couldn’t be just nothing. Or at least he hoped. And so like every rational and mature man, he snatched the hairpin that held your poorly cut bangs from your face and ran. He was lucky it sled off easily. You chased him whilst calling out for his name, threatening him with actions you would never do. You could never. All while he giggled to himself like a little boy. 

♪ ♪ ♪

[A week ago…]

Everyone tends to only consider what’s on the surface of the water, unknowing of the storm that lies underneath the seas.

“What about Shotaro?” “Forget him.”

No apparent aggression, but betrayal could be sensed with the constant fall of his intonation as he continued to speak, “He chose her over us.” and his breath falls along with his hands that got done with smoothing out the wrinkles on his uniform.

“I mean, you would too. Isn’t that why you two got into a fight?” he shrugged at his friend.

And then laughed.

“What’s so funny?” The friend had furrowed eyebrows as he inspected the demeanor of the man before him.

“He’s talking to her everyday now. Me on the other hand?” he looks to his left, the body-length mirror of his room. “I’m so close, yet so far. I don’t even think I amuse her.”

“Why not? you’re Song Eunseok, the funny —and insanely hot guy, come on now.” 

“Yeah. That’s the problem. Funny, insanely… hot?” 

The two laughed in chorus. 

“What’s the point of being so admired by so many people if the one I’ve been admiring doesn’t even give a flying fuck?” Eunseok shook his head as he spoke, facing his mirror and checking his reflection. “If anything she probably hates —no, not hate, but she doesn’t like me. For sure.” he straightens the collar of his shirt. 

“The popular guy stigma.” he laughs at his friend’s sigh, and he replies,

“It’s true for some people. I could see why she might think I’m like them.” he smiled but his movements would be a complete contrast to it as he kept fixing nothing and dusting off nothing on his uniform. “Say we weren’t friends, and you’re a transferee, how would you see me?” he turns around to face his friend who was flummoxed with his sudden question. 

“Well, I’m an extrovert myself, so I’d probably ask you to hang out first and foremost. You’re fine as hell, you’re quite the character.” Eunseok’s eyes traveled to the ground after hearing his friend’s response. He couldn’t quite tell if it was genuine or was just a guise to amuse him. This friend was not like the ones he once had in his life. Not like Shotaro. Not like you. 

“Character?” Eunseok chuckled to himself. “I wonder if this… character was why we grew apart.” 

“You and Shotaro?”

“Yes, and no.” Eunseok’s heavy sigh almost startled the other boy. “I’m talking about the girl.” a silent ‘oh’ was exuded from the boy’s mouth as he watched the other who moved to take a seat next to him. “I don’t get how moving schools cut our ties. Shotaro and I were still friends after I moved. I mean, we were neighbors. But still. Did she really not care about me?” 

“Probably. Girls do that, don’t they?” Eunseok laughed again, with knitted brows this time.

“No. We’ll never know.” he says, running his tongue over his top lip before he continued, “We’re a bunch of dicks. How would we know?”

And they guffawed. 

“Just ask her out to prom. Before Shotaro does.” Eunseok nods at his friend. “I bet you fifty bucks you can get her to say yes empty handed.”

“Dude, it’s not in me to not give her anything.” 

[Present Day]

If I can make you laugh, you’re going to prom with me.

It would’ve been raining diamonds if he was able to carry out his plan. He would make her laugh then she’s all his for prom night, and hopefully for the days that follow. 

But now he stood —oddly quiet— with his friends in a corner shop near school buying whatever shit they had to buy. “Hey nice guy! What's up? Is your mouth glued shut? stapled?” 

One of his friends had laid their arm over his shoulders, tightening his hold when Eunseok didn’t answer immediately. “I’m fine. I think the store ran out of condoms.” the other snorts at his answer, a poor attempt at a joke.

“Do virgins eat condoms?” a loud ‘tsk’ would follow after, “If you’re getting fucked it’s by something up there in your cranium. Tell me.”

Eunseok sighed as he mustered up the guts to tell. “I didn’t get the girl.”  

Surprised, and quite perplexed, his friend removed his arm from him to look him in the eyes saying, “What do you mean? I thought Gaeul said yes?”

“It was never Gaeul.”

“Then who?”

“You.” Eunseok grabs his friend's face, pretending to pull him in for a kiss. His friend —like every straight man— would counteract his actions. 

“Ew dude, I’m not fucking gay, for the last time!”

“It’s always been you.”

Eunseok would let go of his friend hearing another one of their friends approaching as she laughed. “Hi nice guy!”

“And hi to you too, Miss Korea.” the girl giggles at Eunseok’s reply. 

“Is it true? You and Heeseung have been sleeping together?” Eunseok smirked, hearing the girl’s jesting.

“What?” Before Heeseung could speak again, Eunseok butts in with a quip. 

“Oh, yes! But he hides it, he must be ashamed of me —ashamed of loving me!” dramatic, and exaggerated, still it was one for the titters.

“I hate you, Yuna. Have a nice fucking day.” and Heeseung walks out whilst the two continue laughing amongst themselves. 

The cackles died down once the two were left alone as their friends continued to roam the shop.

“Hey, not to be nosy or anything, but did you seriously not mean to ask Gaeul? sorry I just heard —I promise I wasn’t actively listening in.” Yuna even waved her hands in front of her face to dismiss any misinterpretations. 

And with a small smile, Eunseok breathes in to reply to her. “It’s okay. We weren’t exactly being discreet about it at all.” his eyes shifted along the shelves that sandwiched the two of them. “But yeah. I asked Gaeul because, I don’t know, why not?” 

Yuna nods at a broken pace for a couple of seconds as she tries to understand, getting caught up in some holes as she went through what he told her one more time before asking, “So, then, who were you meant to ask?”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s got a date already anyways. I got a date, she got a date, you got a date, everyone gets a date. It’s gonna be fun.” he displays a wide smile, but it was almost robotic in a way that made Yuna huff trying to get over how ridiculous he looked at the moment. “Do you mind me asking about your date Miss Korea?” 

“Well, I was hoping this guy would ask me. But I don’t think he had me in mind at all. But yeah, I’m going with Sungchan, you're going with Gaeul, we all have dates. Let’s be happy.” Eunseok chuckled at the way her voice imitated his in some way. 

“Yeah. Let’s be happy.”

♪ ♪ ♪

It’s been an hour or two of Natty and Minji flitting around the boutique to find you and Shotaro some nice outfits for prom night. The theme? “Retro romance.”

“It’s fun but I feel like there could be better themes. There’d be dozens of polkadot skirts, I can already see it.” Natty mumbles in between picking out a few dresses for you to try on. She holds out a shirt dress, yellow with hints of white in a gingham pattern. “This is pretty retro, right? we could pair it with a belt and a skimmer hat with a purple ribbon.” Natty scans the piece of clothing, moving closer to you and holding it out next to your figure. 

Your head snaps instantly when you hear an utterance next to you, “It looks cute.” Shotaro was a bit taken aback with how all three of you stopped just to look at him just because of his short little comment.

Minji approached, coming from a section of the boutique just a little farther from where the three of you were. She came walking with a few items at hand. It was a plain long sleeve shirt, white, a plaid suit vest —in the same color as the dress Natty held—, and some flared trousers in a darker shade of yellow, just a little muted. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, you guys need to get into the fitting rooms right now!” you giggled at the way Natty gushed and rushed to get you and Shotaro on your feet. 

Her giggles were all it took for you and Shotaro to speed to the fitting rooms. Once the dress went over your head and the skirt settled against your bare legs, your hands traced the shape of your waist seeing how perfectly the dress fits and hugs your body. You loved how the color complemented your skin. Like a perfect painting, freshly polished. You walked out of the fitting room, eyes glued to the flow of the skirt. Once your feet have crossed the line that separated the fitting room from the rest of the boutique, your eyes land on the floor. Your lone feet were now joined by another pair dressed in white Nike air force 1s.

Looking up to your right, smiling eyes greet your own. “Sho, you look dapper!” your exclaim lifted the corners of his mouth to their highest point. 

“Wait till I get my hair done.” he says with his chest up and then playfully biting his lower lip. 

You laugh at his face, slightly shoving him from where he stood with a light push. He —very gently— bumps his shoulder onto yours, causing you to tilt a tad. With a little chortle, you tell him, “You don’t really need to get it done. It looks good the way it is.” as you ruffle his hair.

He lets out a giggle, so soft and gleeful. “Whatever you say, pretty.”

Walking back to your friends, from a distance, their eyes welcomed the two of you. Their compliments almost fell from the end of their tongues. A gasp leaped over Natty’s words, her hand rushing to catch her breath. “You look cute together!” and you almost gagged from all the cooing. As opposed to you, Shotaro just smiled, his eyes were smiling too. Smiling at you. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary —you’d convince yourself. But your cognition went offbeat when you met his eyes, and yours would hastily look around for something, anything to subside the feeling that was simmering from within you. 

You were thankful that Minji made her comment before anyone noticed. “You look like twin bananas.” your face would scrunch up, and she’d slightly repel, speaking again, “I was trying to say the colors looked cute!” you hear Shotaro’s giggle again. Instinctively, you peered at him. Your best friend.

He used to be your best friend too. 

“Y/n?” 

You shook your head, your lips forming the best smile you could pull out of your blues. You raised your brows at your best friend who had called you out of your thoughts. “I like these outfits. Let’s get them, yeah?”

“Yeah. I like them too.” he nods along with his words. “Told you you’d look great in anything!” he gently nudges at you when he spews the acclaim.

Just days before he assured you that finding a decent outfit would be no problem, emphasizing that “you already look good with just our school uniform on.” —you’d dispense a hearty cackle, though, you knew he must’ve been sincere with it all, you only intended to humor the situation. All for the sake of not having to foster thoughts about everything he’s said to and done for you for the past two weeks after the ‘you-know-who incident’. 

All the while ‘you-know-who’ feigned folly. It was the only way he could ever allow himself to overlook the facts that unfolded from across the street in front of him. The fact that her happiness radiated in high magnitudes. The fact that she laughed with someone else, wore stupid banana-colored matching outfits with someone else —that she laughed with that guy as if he was the greatest comedian she knew. It was the fact that she was happier without him, and that he could never make her laugh like whilst she held on her tummy as her face formed creases of joy. She was only on her way out when he saw her. It’s the happiest he’s ever seen her. No matter how much he loathed the cause of your glee, seeing her smile, grin and giggle made him float to the skies. He daydreamed about what it could sound like, her laughter. Must be delightful with how tightly the other guy had clutched onto her hand. Eunseok looked away before he could fall any deeper. He crossed the road, and her too. He caught a whiff of her almond saffron perfume, and he fished for her gaze only to be met with the eyes he despised the most. “Osaki Shotaro pisses me off.”

Eunseok was now in a cafe to meet up with Gaeul for the first time ever since asking her out to prom —impulsively. She was yet to arrive, so he got on the phone with his dear friend Yeonjun. “We know, we know. But if you’re that competitive why don’t you make moves huh?” Eunseok breathes out a scoff after hearing Yeonjun’s taunting.

“If you knew me at all, you know i’m all but competitive.” Eunseok kept his gaze on the bell above the door, any moment from then it could sound Gaeul’s arrival, not that it was enough for him to pay mind to. 

“Yeah, you’re all that, aren’t you?” Yeonjun tittered from the other line. He calmed himself down at an instant when he realized that Eunseok was shut quiet. “You know, Sungchan told me something about his sister, Y/n.” Eunseok had parted his lips, but was unable to utter his next words —those which he had trouble finding— so Yeonjun spoke again, “He said she liked one of her best friends back then. It could be you or Shotaro, but what if it’s been you all along?”

Foot tapping at a pained tempo, Eunseok almost choked holding back a guffaw. “Me? Was I the one she’s been hanging out with? was I the one by her side when her dog died? or when she received such a shitty exchange gift when she had spent loads of time and money for her gift?” Eunseok swore he could see Yeonjun with pursed lips. 

The bell sounded just as Yeonjun replied, “It’s not entirely impossible—” *phone beeps* Eunseok ends the phone when Gaeul greets him with heart eyes. Like every girl would. 

It didn’t make sense to Eunseok. Every other girl liked him, stared at him for too long sometimes. You were —in his world— every girl. You were the girl that laughed at him when he skinned his knee while he raced against the wind with his bicycle. You were the girl that gave him your frosted animal crackers when he left his lunch box at home. You were the girl that hid her face when she cried after he had told her that he was moving away with his family. You were the girl that pretended not to recognize him at the themepark when he came around to visit again. You were the girl who continued to shun him everyday now that you were in the same highschool. You were all that —and more— to him. You were every girl in his life, in his story, in the little sit-com he lived in.

“So, what do you plan on taking for college?” he stared at the girl who queried him, though it was not clear to her —nor to himself what exactly he was staring for, or at rather. 

Eunseok clears his throat, digging around in his mind for the answer, “I plan to take a b-a —uh, public relations.” he chuckled seeing how she fought the grimace from spreading throughout her face. “Sorry if i’m not the computer science or architecture typa guy.”

Gaeul quickly wards off any misunderstandings by hastily shaking her head as she utters, “Sorry, I just haven’t heard that from anyone before. In fact, I'm quite unfamiliar with it.” he leisurely nods, his teeth subtly digging into his bottom lip at the last rise of his head. “Would you mind explaining it to me? your career path and all.”

He raised his brows, a low chuckle, barely audible, was trapped behind his pressed lips. “No, not at all.” maybe, just maybe, he could get his head out of the past, the memories of you. You. Maybe after he’s gotten to know this girl that actually acknowledged his presence and seemed to be genuinely curious to seek for what’s beyond his social persona. The talk was definitely long enough for their lava-hot coffee cups to run cold. And surprisingly for him, there was more gained than said.

♪ ♪ ♪ 

Prom night came around, but before it did you made sure to avoid crossing paths with him, or taking turns at the wrong corners and run into him and Gaeul —again. You were never able to be verbal with how grateful you were that Shotaro had been sticking to you ever since you’ve gone to the boutique. His puns and your exchanged banters drew your attention away from Eunseok. 

At prom night, Shotaro picked you up with his dad’s car. You scrambled around looking for your purse when you saw him from outside your living room window. He leaned his back against the driver’s seat door, waiting and anxiously fiddling with his fingers. You released a deep exhale once you were faced with your front door. Shotaro stared at the door mat, and when he saw that bright yellow skirt flowing with the cold wind of the night, he gazed up. His eyes lit up as if they had sparklers in them. He had seen you in this dress before —at the boutique, but somehow the atmosphere and the anticipation of taking your hand in his and dancing with you on the dance floor all night made him feel like it was his first time ever trying to catch your eyes behind that beige skimmer hat you wore. 

With only a few five steps distancing the two of you, you greet him. “Hi.”

“Hello.” after a minute of —unnecessary— loud silence, you both burst out laughing. “I’m Shotaro, and this pretty girl’s name would be?...”

Your hands settled on your waist, tilting your head —and finally locking your eyes with his. Your lips would curve into a small smile, giving into his little roleplay. “The name's Y/n.” you hold your hand out for a handshake, and you receive it in no time.

“Well, good eve Miss Y/n. It’s my first time seeing you around here, perhaps you’re from out of town?” you suppress your giggle, lips pursed as you composed yourself.

“I could say the same about you.” he chuckles at you, eyes all smiley, like always.

“It doesn’t have to matter pretty, would you dance with me tonight?” he asks with raised brows, and a voice silk like whiskey. 

Though his voice caused a short stagnation with your breathing, you cleared your throat, hoping that would ease the one-sided tension. Then suddenly, you gasped, “And for you to expect me to go out with a stranger? how bold!” and very dramatically too.

His eyes dilated, again, laughing against his lips. He gradually pulled his occupied hands from behind his back at the same pace at which he spoke. “Maybe, a little gift would change your mind?” and by then, a bouquet of chocolates —your favorite kind— was being waved, just slightly, right in front of you. 

“What? I thought you were saving up? those are expensive!” a hefty load of air went through your nose, taking in the sweet scents of cocoa and sugar.

“Not really expensive, just pricey—”

“Same thing!” Shotaro’s chest was struck by your gentle hand, and he’d hold it there. Your palm was pressed against his heartbeat. You kept your eyes on your hand as you felt for the thumps on his chest. It was paced and certainly not calm. “Sho… you okay?”

With your gaze up at him and a flick of your lashes, his hand found its way on top of yours. And for a while, he’d clasp onto your hand, his grip growing tighter with every count of a second. He gently guides your hand off his chest, lowering it on level with your waist. “I’m taking that as a yes, pretty.” he utters softly as he guides you to the passenger seat of the car. 

Once you were seated, you stared straight ahead, not minding Shotaro who went around again to get into the driver’s seat. You anxiously fiddled with the fabric of your skirt, and once you heard the driver’s seat door close, you patted down the cloth and smoothened it with your hands. 

“Are you okay Y/n?” the boy beside you asks, and you —obviously— had thoughts running in your head by the looks of your eyes alone. 

“Yeah, it’s just…” you were quite embarrassed to admit, “I don’t get why I’m like this either, but…” but it’s nothing Shotaro hadn’t heard from you, right? “I don’t know if I’ll enjoy it if I saw him there with another girl. I’m sorry, Sho.”

You watched as Shotaro’s hands took grasp of the wheel, his thumb grazing against the leather ever so slightly. “Prom is not about Song Eunseok. We can very much enjoy it without seeing him at all. How about we just pretend he doesn’t exist for the night? how’s that sound?” He was calm, and so sweet sounding. He held out his hand with his palm facing the sky, offering to ease your worries. 

You took this offer, just for the sake of feeling better and getting your mind off of who wasn’t there for you, and who hasn’t been for eight years. “Thank you, Sho.”

Now his thumb grazed over the skin of your hand. “Anytime. You know I love you, right?” 

“I know, you’ve been telling me that since we were kids.” you giggled at each other, before the engine started and you were both off to prom night.

♪ ♪ ♪

For most of the night, you stuck by Shotaro —as promised— and you two danced, even though you were quite the dancer yourself, he urged you to join him. It was fun, even more so for him. He was so kind to you tonight, so gentle. Well, he’s Shotaro, and he’s made you smile, giggle, titter with his little jokes, his compliments, his smile. 

“Thank you for tonight.” you were sitting at an empty table. You had laid your head on your date’s shoulder as your eyes wandered around the scattered bunch of attendees dancing the night away.

Prom king and queen were to be announced after the current song, you heard from one of the other attendees. “Thanks to you too. I had loads of fun.” the back of his hand gently bumps against yours. You caught the signal, placing your hand on top of his palm. He closes in on your hand, and opens it again, then closes, and opens again, “Look, it’s an alligator.” he giggles right into your ear, continuing the closing and opening motion as he brings your entwined hands to your face. 

“Sho!” you breathe out as a laugh follows shortly. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not what an alligator looks like.”

“Oh, okay then.” he removed his hand from underneath yours, and soon your palms touched each other. You very carefully lift your head from his shoulder, and your eyes land on his face, observing the way his nose scrunched up when he started playing with your hands. “How about this?” he lifts your hands to your face again, showing the little alligator he had created with your joint hands. 

And then your eyes meet. Your smile was so soft, as well as your eyes. He thought he was going to melt into a puddle. He just hoped nothing would ruin this serene view. You’re so delicate and beautiful. The night went exactly like how he planned —for the most part. You two were all smiles and laughs when your sides were pressed against each other or when your hands were connected. But one instance of you separating to get drinks for both you and him, he wasn’t expecting you to come back with tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. It was his instinct to always be there for you, and so he rushed to take you in his arms. It hurt him that you weakly tried to fight off his embrace, but then you broke into a sob and meekly laid your weight onto him. His hand encloses yours as he takes you back to the car. He thought about driving you home, so you can rest and feel better. But he took a turn away from where you lived.

“Where are we going, Sho?” your dainty voice pricked his heart.

“Just, somewhere.” 

He didn't let go of your hand till he took you home, but until then, you both sat by the riverside with juice boxes and convenience store sandwiches. 

“What’s wrong with me? he doesn’t even care about me, or you —at least not anymore.” you munched on the cold sandwich salted with your own tears as you spoke. 

“Well, at least he doesn’t hate us, right? and look, I’m pretty sure if you asked him for help, or a favor or something, he won’t refuse.” Shotaro had his eyes on you only, even if he had asked you to take a breather and watch the river flow. He sighs softly, seeing your gloomy eyes blinked continuously to fight off the tears. “Friends grow apart, it really isn’t his fault he found friends he enjoyed being around with more than—”

“More than us. Yeah, I get it.” a bitter laugh escaped your lips, and you gulped as a single tear trickled down to the side of your face. 

Shotaro was quick to not let it run down to your neck, wiping it off with a gentle touch to your face. You took a hold of his wrist, calmy removing his hand from your face and moving it to let it settle on his lap, but before you could let go of him, he brought your hand back in his with one swift motion. Your eyes grew wider than before, blinking a few more times as you held eye contact. 

“Can I ask for a favor?” you blinked one more time at his question. 

“Yes Sho.”

“I know you like Eunseok —still, and I know you don’t have it in you to just forget him, especially when we used to be the best of friends.” 

You took a stuttered breath, eyeing Shotaro’s fingers as he drew shapes on your hand. 

“But please, forget him.” and another stuttered breath. “It doesn’t have to be now —what I’m trying to say is, if he managed to stop looking out for you, I won’t. No matter what happens.” your eyes soften, keeping it locked with his. “Even if you say no to my favor.”

You raised your brows, visibly confused. “Isn’t the favor to forget about him?”

You felt his grip on your hand tighten, and you could see the movement in his throat as he gulped. 

“Y/n, can I court you?”

♪ ♪ ♪

[Earlier that night…]

“And now, for prom king…”

It was undoubtedly,

“Song Eunseok!”

Great. Just great. Eunseok badly wanted to just drown in the crowds of people, but instead he allowed himself to be pushed onstage by his friends. And there he stood, next to the prom queen —thankfully, it was Yuna, and not just some other girl. The girl seemed to be ecstatic, giving Eunseok a high-five. Still, after being crowned and a brief photoshoot session, he hurried back to his date who wore rosey cheeks and a shy smile. 

“Hi prom king.” She greets him as he gets closer.

Once he was right in front of her, she wrapped her arms around her neck. He wasn’t surprised, not until she got on her tiptoes to place her lips on his. Just for a short while. 

“I like you, Eunseok.” he blinked once, biting onto his bottom lip.

He couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but suddenly his head was brought up —just above Gaeul’s head— where from a distance, he spotted you. Looking so sweet, so flawless in that yellow shirt dress. He loved how you just walked around with that smile he’d always daydream about. In those five seconds of him marveling in the sight of you, he never realized you were looking right at him, then at the shorter girl in front of him. And with a blink of an eye, you were gone. 

“Eunseok?” he cleared his throat, finally looking back at Gaeul. 

He ponders for a while, and he looks up again. Then he meets another pair of eyes. It belonged to the arms that held you that night as you sobbed. 

“I like you too.”

It was all too late, wasn’t it? There was no way Shotaro hadn’t already planned to ask you out after tonight. Right?

[Two weeks later…]

“How’s it with Gaeul?” Eunseok shook his head at his friend’s query, almost laughing at the tone of his question. 

“We’re fine, Chenle.” he replies with a slight sigh, which only drove his friend to question him more. 

“Yeah, yeah. But, are you really over… you know.” Chenle brought his eyes to the side.

Eunseok knew better than to look at where his friend’s eyes laid on, instead he’d just answer him, “I’m not. But it wouldn’t hurt to try. Besides, doesn’t she look happier?” 

“She does.” he almost broke into a pit of laughter with how fast Chenle responded to his words. 

“She really does.” Eunseok would repeat to himself, only very subtly looking over at your direction.

So close, yet so far. And now, completely out of reach. He watched from the other end of the hallway as you unload your locker, and right next to you was Shotaro who held everything you took out of it, filling his hands. After closing your locker, you’d take half of what he held. Then you laughed. To this day Eunseok was still curious. Did your laugh sound any different after eight years?

“Bro, don’t you think you’ve been looking for too long?” 

Eunseok finally parts his eyes from your sight, looking back at his friend with the smile he always wore around school, the one that no one could ever really tell whether it’s superficial or genuine.  

“What do you mean? It’s only been eight minutes.”

And eight years. 

♪ ♪ ♪

Highschool went by like a fly, so irritating that it lingered for a while. But you were happy that even though you’ve taken a dozen bites, you were still able to be the luckiest of the lucky. Especially with him by your side. Maybe it was too early to speak on things, but you are in your second year of college now, and he’s never stopped looking out for you. So you did the same for him. 

“Hey Sho?” you spoke into your phone after the ringing stopped. 

“Hi Y/n! sorry I can’t join you for lunch, but for dinner we’ll definitely—” he was cut off by your soft chuckle, finding himself freezing up for a second.

“I know Sho, you told me last night. So that’s why—” you took the steps up to his department’s building, stopping by the glass doors. “I’m here to drop off your lunch.”

“Lunch? Wait, I’m running down right now!”

“Entrance two.”

“Entrance two, got it —what did you get?”

“I cooked!”

“You cooked? holy shit, okay.”

You purse your lips as you suppress your laughter, and within under a minute, you see him running from the inside towards the transparent doors. He rushed out of the doors, greeting you with a hug. You were both giggling against each other. 

“Sho!” you almost dropped the lunch bag when he spun you once. 

His eyes smiled at you —like always— once he’s let go of you. You wore a wide smile, biting your lip as you extended your arm to give him the lunch bag. “This is way better than take out.”

You chortle and shake your head. “How would you know? you haven’t even tasted it yet!”

“I’ve tasted your ramen!”

“Instant ramen doesn’t count!” 

You wished you could just bask in each other’s little banters and laughs, but eventually he had to go back to finish what he was working on. 

“Natty will join us for dinner, she and Eric had another fight.” you tell him as you fixed his collar a bit. 

“Again? What's going on with Eric?” you shrugged at him, finally smoothing out his shirt. 

“Nobody knows.”

You understood why people fought, that sometimes, even the smallest things on the surface could indeed be plunged deeper than the depths of the oceans. Now all you could hope is for the couple to reconcile. You knew them both well enough by now to tell that both of them mean well at the end of the day and in some way are just trying to protect each other. 

That’s why at dinner, you were all eyes and ears for Natty as she went on with the details of how everything went down, and you held her hand seeing that it was difficult for her to let it all out. By the end of the day, she’d thank you and Shotaro, and the two of you would be left in the confines of your apartment complex. The talk lasted for longer than what you’d expect —not that you mind— and when you looked out the window, the sky was black and blank. The street lamps were all lit, coloring the streets amidst the darkness. You breathe in once, turning around, only to be met with Shotaro who was getting ready to go home. From what you can recall, he wasn’t gonna be busy for a while. 

“Sho?” his head snaps up from his shoelaces that he was only getting started to tie back up. He hummed you a reply, smiling so dearly and letting his eyebrows rise a tad. “Can I ask you a favor?”

He was a bit taken aback at your question, but he could never say no. “Yeah, of course! "What is it, pretty?”

That feeling you felt back at that old boutique was coming back to you, and in its fullest form. No longer something you would ward off and ignore, but something you wanted to accept and embrace. You thought maybe you were somewhat a bit standoffish, not being able to see through your best friend’s compliments and cute little nicknames —not to mention everything he’s done for you. You thought it was kind of funny. Then, it only took you eight seconds to spot Eunseok within a crowd, but it took you eight years to realize that your bestest friend of all saw you more than a best friend. Funny how you’ve kept Eunseok name at the top of your ‘funniest people I know’ list when no one had ever made you laugh as much as Shotaro did. You made a mental note to yourself to edit that later on, but for now,

“Stay for tonight. It’s quite late.” you glanced over to your wall clock. “A quarter till twelve.”

His eyes shifted around for a while, like he was looking for his answer around the space of your home. “If it’s fine with you, I would —but really, I can go home just fine. I can call you while I walk home.”

You chuckled, taking in his wide open eyes and slightly parted lips. You subtly chew on your bottom lip for a second before telling him, “I want you to stay, Sho.” 

He was a frozen stick of butter by the time those words left your mouth. And he’d let himself melt when you came close to remove his scarf off of him. He removes his shoes, then his coat. And for a while you both stood in front of your door, just staring at each other before laughing at each other's faces —with no particular reason. He takes both of your hands, keeping them warm with his own. 

“Now, about the favor…” your eyes shy away from him as he tilts his head.

He fishes for your eyes, asking, “Wasn’t this the favor?” a soft giggle escapes his mouth just as he finishes speaking. 

You can’t help but giggle too. This time you look him right in the eyes. “Sho, we’ve been best friends for fourteen years.” he gulped at your words, feeling a little nervous with the way you spoke. “And you’ve been courting me for two years.”

“And a half.” he sheepishly adds. 

You breathe out a laugh, “And a half.” you mumble as you intertwine your fingers with his. “I think we should stop being best friends.”

You can’t help but laugh at the way his face contorts at what you said. “Wait, what?” “Wait, what I’m trying to say is…” you both utter at the same time, still being mindful of your volume —you had neighbors after all. 

“Can I be your girlfriend already?” 

You were smothered with a hug, tiny pecks and his sweet giggles. The next thing you know, you were laying on your bed, all cuddled up against each other. He caresses your hair, something he’s always wanted to do. 

“You know we can be together and be best friends at the same time, right?” he whispered to your ear, holding you closer to him. 

You only hummed a reply to him, feeling too tired to open your eyes or speak up. You’d hear one last giggle and feel strands of your hair being moved out from your face before you drifted to sleep. 

♪ ♪ ♪

[Eight months later…]

It was a busy day. You were lined up to seize an opportunity of a lifetime, and you haven’t even graduated college. You were hopeful that they might consider your talents. A wise man by the name of Shotaro once said, “Fashion design is your thing, you can do it! I bet twenty.” you really hope you’d lose that twenty bucks. 

“Y/n?” you were spooked for a second, it’s a familiar voice. “Hi!” and a very familiar face.

“Gaeul?” your eyes dilated at the sight of her. 

She’s just as pretty as the last time you saw her. “Long time no see!” she opened her arms, inviting you in for a small hug, which you accepted gleefully. “How have you been?”

That single question brought you to lunch with her, and of course you had to bring Shotaro along. 

“I’ve always thought you two looked cute together, I’m glad to see the both of you happy.” she gives both of you a soft smile. 

“Thanks, well, how about you? still with Eunseok?” you quietly gasp, stilling yourself in your seat but still knitting your brows at your boyfriend. 

You felt that neither of you were really in the place to ask about her love life. “No, it’s okay!” Gaeul’s assurance helped calm your nerves. “I’m single.”

The two of you just nod, and you found that it was best to not pay much mind to it anymore. You engaged in constant conversation throughout your whole time eating, it was all very wholesome, and you were happy that Gaeul was making steps to achieving her dreams just like you were. The talk about relationships seemed to have sinked, well, not until Shotaro had to excuse himself in the bathroom.

“We were never together —at least it didn’t feel like it.” Gaeul’s utterance caught you off guard. You fell silent all of a sudden, and she noticed. “It never felt real. I cut ties with him after three weeks. And then he told me that—” she flicked her tongue over her top lip for a short while, “He liked you.” 

You took a second to take a sip of water, gulping like you were drinking thick sand.  

Despite parting with smiley farewells, her words dropped a heavy load on you. You carried it till you got back to your apartment and got settled on your bed. It was so heavy that you dropped it all on him, at a seemingly random moment. 

“She said he had a picture of me from our 8th grade yearbook in his pocket.” 

What you had shared with Shotaro struck him like livid thunder. He didn’t expect that Eunseok’s feelings for you would persist. He just wondered if it’s still there. But he could only hope for the best. Even after the whole conflict of two best friends liking the same girl —who also happened to be their best friend too— Shotaro still cared for Eunseok, even if he seemed entirely indifferent to him.

But it didn’t have to matter anymore. You chose him. He’s the one in your home, on your bed, always by your side, never to leave you.

♪ ♪ ♪

[Eight years later…]

What was once a small, dull colored room with faulty curtains and ugly flooring became a shared bedroom, in your shared house with the love of your life. Where the sunshine seeps at dawn, and the moon peeks at your dreaming bodies at night. It felt wonderful. Love felt so wonderful. Shortly after moving in together, you adopted a dog. You didn’t get that opportunity with that one clothing line back then, but now, you owned a line of your own. Your life couldn’t be anymore complete. 

Even if it wasn’t perfect. The flaws only proved your happiness to be real. After a night of too much alcohol at your highschool reunion, Shotaro would tell you exactly why he stopped talking to Eunseok. He cried about it all, saying that he knew all along that you two liked each other. But you were all over it now, and it was Shotaro who’s been by your side. Not everyone was able to attend that reunion —because apparently they were too successful to be there.

Yuna, you knew she was a friend of Eunseok. She approached the two of you at your table, greeting the both of you with a warm smile. “My boyfriend’s having a stand-up show this saturday, I was hoping the two of you could come. In fact, he wanted me to invite you guys.” then you were given two tickets for the venue. 

There weren’t any other details, the ticket was white, with not much but the title of the show. 

The next morning, you’d discuss it with Shotaro on the dinner table. You were sitting next to each other, his arm wrapped around your waist and his head resting on top of yours. “The time is pretty tricky, I have work scheduled at that time.” he plants a kiss on your temple before continuing to speak, “You should definitely go though! I’ll pick you up after, then —remember that dog cafe I told you about? we have to visit it after.” 

You giggled, looking up at him. He couldn’t resist by then, and would lower himself a bit to kiss you. And it wasn't a short one, more like a twenty-minute film. Nonetheless, it was beautiful, and you’ve never felt so loved. 

That Saturday, you went to the venue alone, but not without having the sweetest breakfast of your life with your lover. Pancakes with chocolate syrup, whipped cream and a few berries, and of course, a cup of coffee before proceeding to your own schedules for the day. 

You took the bus on the way there since Shotaro had to leave earlier. The show was a little later in the afternoon. 

When you got there, you looked for any familiar faces, but it was only when you got seated that Yuna came and sat down next to you. You two greet each other with inviting smiles, and a few minutes before the show starts, you’d converse and catch up a bit, after all, it’s been eight years.

“Gentlemen.” a voice echoed throughout the room. 

When you looked up at the stadium, “Gentlemen, may I have your attention —and ladies, I know I already got you.” 

What a surprise. And it was a pleasant one at that. He fits this line of profession. He seemed to enjoy being up there, talking and joking about whatever. It was just like meeting him all over again. He’s just being himself up there. Your best friend from childhood, that sadly didn’t even make it till middle school. Now, you were finally able to laugh at his jests, sometimes stopping for a while to process what he was saying. Still, the atmosphere was light and fun. The audience was truly alive, and so were you. 

At one point, he started talking about his girlfriend. Not quite hard for you to figure out since you remember Yuna mentioning at your reunion party that you were being invited to this show by her boyfriend, Song Eunseok.

“So, I finally decided to do something about it. I bought one of those electric blankets. Problem solved, right? Wrong. Now, our bed is divided like the Korean Demilitarized Zone. She’s over there toasty warm, and I’m on my side sweating like a marathon runner in a sauna. But you know what? I wouldn't trade her for anything. Because at the end of the day, it just gives me another reason to hold her close and keep her warm. And that, my friends, is how you win brownie points with your girlfriend.”

You can’t help but share a laugh with Yuna, letting her hold on to your shoulder as she titters. 

Eunseok saw you, how could he not when you were sitting next to his girlfriend. He was only a bit curious about Shotaro’s absence.

You’d explain it to him at the end of the show, “Sho’s got work, but he’s coming to pick me up.” you both stood just outside the venue, at the side of the building with a little less people going around.

“Sho? What happened to Taro?” Eunseok raised a single brow, and you’d chuckle. 

“Because you used to call him Taro.” you reply with a slight smile.

“Right.” he nods, his pace decreasing gradually as he tries to reach for something at the back of his tongue, “I’m just curious, did you actually hate me back then? like, when I moved and stuff.”

You chuckle a little louder, leaving him puzzled. “I liked you. I just avoided you. I just thought you didn’t care anymore.” you answer so simply, shrugging towards the end of your sentence.

“I thought you hated me, that’s why I wasn’t talking to you.” you took a sharp breath through your nose when he finished speaking. 

Then suddenly you both snort at the whole thing.

“It’s funny.”

“It really is.”

As your laughter died down, he’d clear his throat to ask you, “So, are you and Taro married?” you could see his eyes locked on the ring on your finger. 

“Engaged.” you nod, and he imitates your action. 

“Wow. I should propose to Yuna right now.” your eyes widened an inch, he could be joking, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did. Besides, you could tell how much he loved his girlfriend just by that one ment he did earlier at the show.

“So suddenly?”

“Yeah, so then we’d be even!” 

It reminded you of a time in your childhood where you’d share your food with him because he forgot his lunchbox. You usually gave him more food, just cause you could, but then he’d give some back to you and he’d say, “Now we’re even.” it pulled on your heartstrings, but now you kinda wish you gave him just a piece or two of your animal crackers —and maybe two sips of your apple juice when the weather’s nice. 

“I’m afraid I'd scare her off and she’d say no.” 

“Really?” —you truly were a bit shocked that he was worried about being rejected. “Well, I believe she’ll say yes.”

“Really?” he imitates you again —the tone of your voice, “What makes you think that?”

You gave yourself a few seconds to think about what you were gonna answer to him. Suddenly you remember what you’ve written in your notes app. The funniest people I know. 1. Osaki Shotaro, 2. My dad, 3. Natty… he was off the list, but now, maybe it was for good reason. He was always known for being funny, now he has built a career out of it. Maybe, he was the greatest comedian of all. 

“You might just be the greatest comedian I know.” 

He laughs at your declaration of his greatness with his hands in his pocket, “I’m probably the only comedian you know.” —and more laughter.

He appreciated that you thought he was the greatest comedian. But as he looked back on the past, a past that was once painful, full of regret and missed opportunities, where you missed each other and realized only later in life. That period of your life would still prove to be pivotal. Right person, wrong time? maybe, but what else could it be other than silly memories when you find yourselves laughing about it. You’ve already settled for a love that you both deserve, a love that mended your hearts. It was all for the better, no matter how downcast all of it may seem. Worth a laugh, and a good story. 

The story started with oblivion, and a bouquet of flowers you never received, but it ends with two pairs of engagement rings, and two pairs of smiling hearts. That’s four people —in case you missed it. 

God did a great job writing their fate. And to Eunseok, God is the greatest comedian of all.

End.

cheers to a hundred peeps!! :3

[birdgremlin]

rip my neck

[pinnithin-writes]

Good Jokes

Chapter 14

They were moved in the middle of the night. Tommy saw it - felt it - happen, from his silent watch against the wall in the storage room. The air shimmered and warped like heat off blacktop. A feeling of weightlessness followed, a suspension of the self, unbecoming and particulating in a different place. The group solidified on an elevator lift in some kind of warehouse and the air around them went still and silent. Tommy shook out his hands to dispel the latent feeling of having his atoms rearranged.

Benrey jolted awake, startled, and snapped his gaze around the room. When his eyes met Tommy’s, pupils wide and feral, Tommy could only shrug in return. Wasn’t his doing. He guessed his father had given them a nudge - perhaps not in the right direction, but in the direction he wanted them to go.

The rest of the team remained undisturbed. Benrey sat up, crossing his legs at the ankles and drawing his knees up to his chest. He stared at Tommy across the sleeping forms of their companions, the steady in and out of their breathing the only sound to be heard. Tommy had been monitoring Gordon’s in particular, but apart from some murmuring through unpleasant dreams, he at least seemed stable. He met Benrey’s gaze passively, tolerant of his presence aside from his hands on his rifle.

“Can I help you?” he finally asked.

Benrey quirked his mouth in an indecipherable expression. “Nah.”

“You - you’re just gonna stare at me,” he replied. He’d played this game before. “Okay.”

A few seconds passed, and the entity spoke, as Tommy knew he would.

“You stare at him.” he pointed out, jerking his chin toward Gordon.

Tommy narrowed his eyes. “So he doesn’t die in his sleep,” he replied. “Because someone,” he shot him a steely look, “cut off his hand a day ago and he nearly bled out.”

“Whatever, dude.” Benrey blew out a breath. “You’re obsessed with him.”

Tommy would have outright laughed if he didn’t despise the entity so much. Instead, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, which he immediately regretted on account of how greasy his fingers came away. He’d kill for a shower. “Okay, passport guy,” he muttered, rubbing his fingertips idly together and feeling the grit that had settled there.

Benrey only mocked him back in a babying tone. Fair. Tommy should have known better by now than to engage in conversation with the guy. Curiosity chewed at him, though, so he risked it again.

“Why - w - what’s the deal with that?”

“Huh?”

“The passport thing. Why are yo-”

“People need their passports,” Benrey interrupted him, shrugging. He uncurled himself from his sitting position and let his legs stretch out, leaning back on the heels of his hands. He gnawed on his lip absently. Tommy wondered how he didn’t draw blood doing it. “He doesn’t have his passport. He shouldn’t be here.”

“Wh-” Tommy paused as another question occurred to him. “Do you know what a passport is?” he asked, arching an eyebrow delicately. “Do you know what one is for?”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Do you know when to stop asking idiot questions, idiot?”

“So you don’t know.”

Benrey snapped his teeth together like a bear trap. Tommy racked his rifle in response. The air between them was taut as they stared each other down in silence.

This particular car crash of a conversation was interrupted by the scientists stirring from their sleep, and both demigod and entity backed down from one another. Live to threaten grievous bodily harm another day. There were more important matters at hand.

---

The room they descended to in the cybernetics department was… not what Tommy remembered it being.

It was still the same room. It had the same panel of electronics on the wall. And he was almost certain that analog clock had always been there, but that was where his familiarity ended. The shelves had been cleared of biological research materials, replaced instead with vials of liquid in a delightful array of colors. The far wall held a desk and a computer, and a lab station had been set up in the middle.

An unfamiliar voice floated over to them. “Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three unique flavors! I can’t wait to show them this.”

Had they moved the department? Tommy stood behind Gordon on the elevator lift, craning his neck to get a look at the only individual who seemed to work here. He seemed more relaxed than the rest of the employees they’d encountered, tinkering with something at the lab station with a detached poise. Tommy’s eyes caught a barrel of Powerade mix on the shelf behind him. Maybe he had something to do with the strange desert phenomenon.

Gordon glanced back at his companions. “Fuck is he saying?”

The man looked up from his work, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise at the group’s appearance. Tommy observed the contents of the lab station, a perplexing mix of chemistry equipment and everyday household items, wondering what he was working on. The man idly cut off the gas line to the Bunsen burner while he watched them expectantly.

“Hey,” Gordon said, waving. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Bubby added.

“Hey,” the man answered, his voice only a touch wary as he removed the safety glasses from his face, folded them neatly, and set them on the surface of the lab table.

“How’s it - how’s it going?” Gordon asked.

“Uh. Alright,” the man answered. “Been here for about… three days.”

The man introduced himself as Darnold. An odd name, maybe, but Thomas Coolatta, Ph.D, wasn’t exactly in a position to judge. He was unusually calm for someone barricaded in his own office for the past three days, and he surveyed the group that had dropped in from his ceiling with a contained sort of curiosity. Tommy eyed him carefully. He didn’t have an ounce of blood on his clothes.

Gordon quickly gave up on social etiquette, striding straight up to the man and demanding answers. Tommy didn’t blame him - this department was supposed to be his salvation, the only bastion against a slow death by infection. Now there was just this guy and a table full of soda cans. Or, what Tommy assumed were soda cans. He flitted his gaze over Darnold’s research with interest while Bubby and Dr. Coomer crowded around the table with him. Benrey, already bored with the conversation, began poking through the office.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Darnold warned, placing himself between Gordon and the lab station. It was the first sign of alarm he’d expressed since the team entered the room. “You gotta step away from my research.”

Gordon stopped in his tracks, perplexed. “That’s research?”

Darnold collected himself in a cool, practiced way that Tommy himself knew quite well. He inched Gordon backward until he was a healthy distance from his equipment. “This is not soda,” he explained. “This is not a fine wine - I know what it says. This is not milk.”

Tommy could see by the fogginess in Gordon’s stare that he was lost. “Okay,” he uttered.

Darnold straightened his tie. Smoothed over his lab coat. “I am in charge of the mixology department,” he informed them.

“Mixology…” Gordon responded dimly. “I thought this was supposed to be the cybernetics department. I thought you guys-” he interrupted himself to throw a verifying glance in Coomer’s direction. “Dr. Coomer, you said the cybernetics department was on the way to the Lambda Lab.”

“Absolutely, Gordon,” the scientist affirmed, nodding.

Light dawned on Darnold’s expression. “Oh, cybernetics,” he said. “The cybernetics department. Uh, they were here,” he reasoned, passing a look around the room. “They got their funding cut after their ill-fated Cyber Mutt project.”

“Such a shame,” Coomer intoned, while Gordon sent a flabbergasted look to his teammates.

“Well this is a nightmare,” he grumbled, but his expression brightened somewhat as a thought occurred to him. “Wait, wait wait, wait. You said their funding got cut?” he asked. “You said their funding got cut?” He began gesturing to his arm, teeth flashing in a pained smile.

Tommy winced. At least he was feeling well enough to have a sense of humor about it.

Darnold seemed to just now notice the injury. “Oh, your hand is missing,” he remarked, the faintest hint of revulsion tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He studied Gordon’s stump more like it was a fascinating specimen than the final resting place of a functional appendage, leaning as close as he could without touching the thing. Tommy watched the chemist as he investigated, unsure of how he felt about him. He was a polite enough guy, but there was no way someone had spent three days in isolation while the world ended outside without loosening a few screws. That calm exterior undoubtedly hid something, but Tommy couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

Benrey had found himself a perch atop an industrial steel barrel, and he launched a harsh laugh across the room. “Yeah you fucked up!” he called, clambering down to jostle Darnold’s shoulder. “Yo he fucked up,” he told him. “He lost his arm. Like an idiot.”

Darnold ignored the entity, his focus homed in on the end of Gordon's arm. “Is that - is that some green in there I see?” he asked.

“That’s probably the sewage. And the sepsis.” Gordon sighed.

“That’s not good.” Darnold murmured to himself, scratching his chin pensively. “Y'know… How long have you had that off?”

Gordon blew out an exhausted breath. “I don’t know. How long has it been, a day?” he cast a glance at Tommy for confirmation. “A day and three hours, give or take?

Darnold straightened, rolling his shoulders back as if he had made a decision. “Studies show that the longest you can live without your hand is a day and four hours,” he told Gordon, the edges of his mouth tilting upward in a near invisible smile. “I think we need to help ya out.”

Okay, never mind, this guy was cool. Tommy could see on his face that he was well-intentioned; he was likely just on guard about having five strangers drop through his ceiling. Not to mention that excellent jest, handcrafted and subtle, was the work of a master.

Tommy was about to give the man an appreciative nod when a loud clatter pulled his attention away. A few yards off, Benrey had drifted back over to the storage shelves and begun knocking items to the floor like a cat. Tommy rolled his eyes. The entity had to get the attention he craved somehow, he guessed.

“Oh, shit!” Gordon exclaimed, laughing. “Wait, so it’s not about the blood loss, it’s about the lack of a hand? Like, your body just shuts down?”

Darnold’s smile widened. “Yeah.”

“That’s just weird.”

“Don’t ya know this?” Darnold asked, cheekiness beginning to shine through his expression. “You’re a scientist, aren’t you? This is what they teach you in every doctorate. It’s a part of every Ph.D.”

Tommy covered his mouth with his hand and turned away to hide his amusement.

“Gordon, I hope you haven’t been lying about your diploma,” Dr. Coomer interjected from across the lab table.

Gordon was about to fire off a response when a wave of pain rolled over him. He tucked his stump in close, gritting his teeth. “You - you said you were the mixology head,” he ground out. “Not the - how do you know about this? Why do you - like - you don’t know anything about my arm more than I do. It’s my arm, man, I think I know best.”

“Because - because, I’ll tell you,” Darnold said gently, holding his palm out toward Gordon in a gesture of peace. “I have been working on a top secret project. It’s a potion.”

Tommy had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep his laughter in check. “That isn’t just the Powerade?” he asked.

“A potion?” Gordon repeated. He glanced at Tommy again, searching for some kind of anchor amid uncertainty. “Who is this clown?” he asked.

A comedy genius, Tommy wanted to answer, but he instead settled on giving Gordon an approving nod. He’s okay, he told him with his eyes. Darnold actually seemed alright. Seemed like he wished them well, a rare occurrence on their road trip through the hellscape that was Black Mesa.

And if he didn’t? Well, Tommy could take care of that, if needed.

“Yes, a potion,” Darnold went on. “What do you think mixology is, mister-” he faltered. “I don’t know what your name is,” he admitted. Mild embarrassment wrinkled the chemist’s brow, which Tommy found funny, considering that they were the ones who had so rudely neglected to introduce themselves.

“My name’s Dr. Freeman,” Gordon said. “Dr. Gordon Freeman.” he turned with a sweeping gesture to the rest of the party, scattered in their own right around the room. “These are my compatriots,” he explained. “This is Dr. Bubby.”

“Hello,” Bubby said distractedly as his eyes wandered the equipment on the far wall.

“This is Dr. Coomer.”

Coomer offered a congenial wave. “Hello.”

“This is,” Gordon paused for only a millisecond, but Tommy didn’t miss the way his expression softened as he said, “Tommy.”

He smiled at Gordon fondly before giving Darnold a polite inclination of his head.

“I’m not even going to introduce the other guy,” Gordon grumbled. “I don’t even think he’s in the room anymore, I wasn’t watching him.”

Benrey had migrated away from the storage shelves and was fiddling with the laptop on Darnold’s desk. “I found a torrent of Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas on this computer,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Gordon frowned in concern. “I think he’s going to delete all your files.”

Darnold, unbothered, flapped a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Can you seed that for me, please?” he called to the entity. “Anyways, Dr. Freeman.”

He bobbed his head in an affirmative nod. “That’s me.”

“You’ve disrespected my potions,” he said, giving Gordon a significant look. “Which I don’t like. But a scientist can’t live happily knowing that somebody’s had their hand off for a day and three hours.”

Gordon gave his arm a despondent glance. “Mmyeah.”

“So, this is what I’m going to do,” he continued. “I’m gonna make use of my top-secret, government funded, extreme, delicious potion. I’m gonna give you some, because it has secret regenerative properties unknown to man.”

So, like Pedialyte? Tommy studied the chemist’s expression, trying to parse what he meant by ‘regenerative properties.’ He detected no subterfuge on the man’s face, and his voice held sincere concern, even if it was professionally contained and wrapped up in a joke. Perhaps this ‘potion’ was a risk, but it was a risk Darnold believed would help.

“Unknown to man?” Gordon echoed as he followed Darnold to another steel barrel near the lab station

Incidentally, Dr. Coomer had chosen that barrel as a seat. Darnold frowned at the boxer while Coomer smiled blankly back.

“Please don’t sit on the potion,” Darnold told him.

Coomer hastily dismounted the barrel, sending it rattling sideways and rolling along the floor. Darnold let out a huff, frustration pulling his brows in as he knelt to heft the barrel in his arms. “You knocked the damn potion over,” he muttered, carrying his cargo to rest its weight on the lab table, spout facing downward.

“It’s probably fine,” Dr. Coomer said sheepishly.

Tommy couldn’t help but find the situation funny, from Darnold’s sheer display of strength while he tried to contain his irritation to the absurd size of the barrel in his arms to his unshakeable dedication to the ‘potion’ bit. He watched the exchange with half his attention, the other half following Benrey as he circled the lab like an understimulated animal in an enclosure.

Meanwhile, Gordon’s voice had gone shrill as he realized what he was about to do. “Are you tellin’ me I gotta - is that full?”

Darnold tugged at his lab coat to pull out the wrinkles, balancing the barrel with his free hand. “I tried to put it in beakers, and I only had… three,” he said. “And they all melted when I put the potion in them. But, this is okay.” he slapped his hand on the container in reassurance.

Gordon’s volume climbed and he began to protest, but Tommy spoke up, interrupting him before his elevated pulse could push the poison in his blood any closer to his heart.

“Trust him Mr. Freeman, he made the Powerade earlier.”

“The Powerade was pretty good,” Gordon admitted, turning in Tommy’s direction to search his gaze.

He didn’t know what to believe, who to trust, besides Tommy. He had to remember that. Gordon was following Tommy’s judgment like he was a ship about to wreck, and Tommy couldn’t leave him to smash on a rocky shoreline for the sake of a few jokes. He offered the man a comforting smile. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.

Darnold was still attempting to cut the tension with a little humor as he balanced the barrel on the table. “Now, I’m holding it at the proper potion sipping angle, so just break out your Black Mesa official silly straw and get to slurpin,’ okay?”

Tommy snorted. “What flavor is it?”

“It’s brown flavor!” Darnold shot back with a grin.

Benrey had stopped pacing the room and was now leaning his back against one of the shelves to watch. He caught Gordon’s eye and ran his tongue along the razor line of his teeth. Tommy honestly couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a sign of approval.

Gordon wasn’t sure, either, turning to Darnold with a bit of nervousness. “Hey,” said, leaning in close. “Before you ask me questions about any of this: one, I don’t have a passport. Two, I don’t have a Black Mesa silly straw. Three, I don’t know anything.”

Darnold blinked mildly at the interruption, angling his head away from the sudden closeness and shooting the science team a perplexed look.

“He doesn’t even have his silly straw,” Coomer commented unhelpfully between giggles.

The chemist sighed. “We can work with this,” he said, pushing Gordon delicately back with his free hand. “Here, I’m still holdin’ it at the proper angle. Now, just put your mouth on it, and… get to… suckin.’”

Tommy could tell he immediately regretted his phrasing by the grimace that tightened his mouth.

“He should!” Benrey jeered from his spot against the shelving unit. “Gordon knows how to suck and he does it well.”

As Tommy fought the impulse to gag, Gordon stabbed his finger threateningly in the entity’s direction. “Don’t you tell me what I know about suckin,’ buddy!”

“Gross!” Bubby interjected.

At least without the silly straw it was less like watching the world’s worst beer bong and more like watching the world’s worst shotgun. Reminded Tommy of his college days. Gordon made it through a few swallows before he collapsed onto the tile floor, making a horrible, gut-wrenching sound.

Tommy practically materialized next to Darnold, gripping his upper arm in a warning and ignoring the stares from the rest of the science team. He couldn’t tell if the look the chemist gave him was startled because of Gordon’s condition or Tommy’s sudden proximity.

“What’s it doing to him?” Tommy asked in a low voice.

“Uh, well, from what I’ve gathered, it’s like a month long juice cleanse in the span of five minutes,” Darnold explained, flitting a glance between Tommy and the man lying prone on the floor. He was smart enough to connect the dots. “It doesn’t feel great, but he should be fine,” he assured him, with gentle confidence. “Toxin free.”

After a moment of processing, Tommy released him, choosing instead to fold his arms thoughtfully across his chest and monitor Gordon’s status while the man keeled on the floor, groaning. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Darnold trying not to wince as he rubbed his arm.

They watched Gordon in silence for a few moments before Darnold ventured a question. “When was the last time his suit was charged?”

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to remember. “A - uh - a day ago? Two maybe?”

“There’s a charging station on that wall,” Darnold said, nodding in that direction. “Let’s get him over there while he’s…” he paused, frowning while Gordon convulsed. “Going through it.”

Together, they wrestled Gordon across the room and hooked his suit up to the device. It beeped softly and took on a charge. Gordon didn’t resist, letting out a pained moan as his head lolled against the wall.

“Tastes like brown, tastes like green…” he murmured. “It tastes like most colors.”

Yeah, this was definitely reminding Tommy of his college days. He crouched beside him, watching carefully for any signs of his condition worsening, while Darnold stood to his full height.

“Brown is supposed to taste good,” he remarked, earning himself a thin laugh from Tommy.

He decided he liked Darnold. He was funny, and he had dropped what he was doing to help them, despite the fact that they were all, well, the way that they were. Ragged and chaotic and just to the left of coherent. Darnold met them all graciously with that carefully contained sense of humor, and for that he was thankful. Tommy hoped they were able to seal the rift before any sort of creature got its teeth in the guy.

Tommy remained by Gordon’s side while Darnold turned to converse with Bubby and Dr. Coomer. As the concoction worked its way through Gordon’s bloodstream, the wound drained out a colorless fluid and began rapidly scabbing over. A medical marvel, really, Tommy thought as he watched it heal. Lifesaving technology. He wondered bitterly how long Black Mesa had been sitting on this research, how many people around the world needed something like this. Keeping it hidden away in a bunker was such a waste.

The HEV suit beeped again, indicating it had hit full charge. Tommy steadied Gordon with one hand as he slumped over, breathing heavily. With his other hand, he gently rotated Gordon’s severed wrist so he could access the control panel beneath. He didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with one of these, but he guessed the suit at least needed to recalibrate. Tommy hit the button.

Recalibrate it did. The suit’s internal computer must’ve interpreted Gordon’s lack of a hand as a need for some sort of substitute, and it whirred out lines of tubing and protective metal casing around the area. Tommy watched, fascinated, keeping a solid grip on Gordon’s shoulder to hold him upright. He had settled down somewhat at this point, the pain leaving his body as the newly charged suit flooded him with morphine.

Where there used to be a hand, there was now what looked like a sized-down gatling gun, flanking Gordon’s forearm with five identical barrels. There was no place to feed a magazine, and Tommy wondered distractedly how much of the suit’s real estate was taken up by rows and rows of ammunition within the exterior casing.

Gordon let out a confused grunt as the fog in front of his expression began to clear. When his gaze fell to his own arm, Tommy felt his shoulder go rigid in shock.

“Huh? Whoa. Whoa, what is this tube?” he demanded. “What is that?”

Their attention drawn by Gordon’s outburst, the scientists wandered back over to investigate. Three pairs of curious eyes stuck on the barrel on the end of the man’s arm. Benrey, settled in the chair at Darnold’s desk, didn’t even bother to look over.

Dr. Coomer gave his mustache a thoughtful scratch. “I think that’s your hand,” he finally said.

Gordon sent a questioning look to Darnold. “You told me this would regenerate my hand. What is this?”

“Is that not what your hand looked like before?” Darnold asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement.

Fully alarmed now, still a touch disoriented, Gordon scrambled to his feet. As Darnold began calmly explaining the bizarre prosthetic and its functions, Tommy circled around behind Gordon and began unhooking the HEV suit from the charger before he forgot he was attached to it and tried going anywhere.

He was tuning out the conversation as he carefully undid the clasps, so when the gun extension on Gordon’s arm fired off a staccato of rounds, Tommy leapt back, startled.

He wasn’t the only one - the entire room was taken aback by the firepower Gordon’s new weapon possessed. Save for Benrey, who was bored as usual, and Darnold, who appeared more intrigued than alarmed. The chemist crossed his arms and studied the gun, brows knitted as he puzzled through the mechanics.

“This… really is like your hand,” he began. “You just uh - did… You just fired your fingernails from your fingertips.”

Not a bad metaphor, Tommy allowed, but Gordon was ever the literal one, his judgement a little shaken by the forcible purge of toxins from his blood. “No,” he argued, glancing at the science team for help. “Right? No. Please back me up.”

“Why do you think my hand’s always in a fist?” Bubby reasoned. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

It was so rare Bubby willingly made a joke that Tommy almost forgot to laugh.

“You said I’m shooting my fingernails,” Gordon insisted, turning to Darnold. “I’m s’posed to have only five of those. In fact, my fingernails should be gone-”

“Gordon, I believe most people have ten of those,” Coomer corrected.

“Fingernails can grow pretty fast,” Tommy added as he unhooked the final cable from the suit.

The man was nervous, for good reason, and now probably wasn’t the most appropriate time to make light of his predicament, but Tommy was so relieved Gordon wasn’t going to die of blood poisoning that he truly couldn’t help himself.

Gunshots peppered the room while Gordon oriented himself with the new extension. Tommy remained by the charging station, coiling the cables around his arm and hanging them neatly back on the rack. Next to him, Benrey’s eyes were glazed over as he tacked randomly at the keys on Darnold’s laptop.

“Is the internet working?” Tommy asked, sliding the panel shut on the charging station.

Benrey gave a narrow shrug. “I dunno, I’m playin’ TF2.”

Tommy circled behind him and glanced at the screen. “That’s Minesweeper.”

“I’m installing the Pyro update,” Benrey insisted.

His tone was even, but Tommy could see flames flickering between the entity’s fingers in a subtle threat. He sighed and left him alone.

Tommy rejoined the rest of the group just in time to see the south wall become pimpled with bullet holes. Damn, that little gun had some kick. Gordon reeled backward, panting and looking more clear-eyed than he had in the past couple days. It was good to see him steady on his feet.

“I’ve increased your fingernail effectiveness by ten thousand percent,” Darnold commented, a touch impressed, with a smile on his mouth so small you’d miss it if you weren't looking.

God, this guy was funny. Chill as hell, too. Tommy wondered if he had been the one to put those bullshit posters up in the break room. Hard to believe that was earlier this week and not an entire lifetime ago.

With Gordon healed and recharged, they thanked the chemist for his hospitality and prepared to push on. Tommy was hesitant to leave. This was the only real reprieve they had gotten all week - the room was safe, the company was enjoyable, and a weight had been lifted from Tommy’s shoulders knowing that Gordon was no longer actively dying on his watch. He approached Darnold gratefully while Gordon wrestled Benrey out of the office chair before he could pour more soda on the keyboard.

“What’s the next flavor of Powerade?” Tommy asked, eyebrows raised in a humorous challenge.

Darnold’s smile rose to meet it and he stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, well, I shouldn’t tell you this,” he said, humor sparkling in his black eyes. “But we’re working on an evil flavor.”

“My favorite,” Dr. Coomer interjected while Tommy giggled.

It felt good to laugh, to have something silly to focus on while the world turned further and further on its ear. Darnold’s lab was a cheerful sanctuary, a final stop before their journey’s end. Tommy was still exhausted from running and fighting for days, clawing with desperate hands for a way out of this nightmare. This guarded rest, however, this brief repose, made him think that they just might make it in the end.

Chapter 13 <-----> Chapter 15

[honest-facade]

A Honest Facade Chapter 1

For my Grandad who died too young.

 Chapter 1

We are the crowd

Lady Gaga- Paparazzi

 Sayo sat up in bed realizing that it was already the afternoon. Twelve thirty-seven. Four hannya masks glowered down at her from their places on the wall. The sheets called for her to go back to sleep, that there would be no harm done. Sayo pushed the taste of sleep out her mouth and ignored the protesting thoughts.

She got out of the bed and walked down the hallway rubbing her eyes awake. She could smell food but wasn’t quite awake to tell what is was. Lyndon, her best friend and roommate was cooking on the stove. He had ear buds and an iPod attached to his swinging hips. Sayo stood there for a few more seconds trying to get fully conscience of the unusual circumstances. As he turned to get into the fridge, he caught her in the corner of his eye.

“Oh you’re up!" He said with a bright smile, "I'm making us breakfast. Omelet or scrambled?” His hips swiveling back towards the stove.

“Omelet, please.”

“Ok!” She watched as the omelet tore apart as he attempted to flip it. Lyndon looked down at his handiwork and sighed. “Scrambled’s ok right.”

 “Yeah. You want coffee?” She glared at him as she picked up the glass pot to put water in it.

“Yes please.” He said as Sayo put the coffee in the filter and switched the machine on. “Why are you grilling me?

“What are you doing?” She asked finally able to get the question off her chest.

“What do you mean. I’m making fucking breakfast or whatever.”

“But like why? What did you do?”

“Oh my god I can’t be nice to you?!” He put a hand to his neck.

Sayo sighed and sat down. “Whatever. I’m just saying.”

“Well stop talking and eat.” Lyndon set two plates of toast and eggs on the table. He pulled then scooted in his chair. “So, how’d you sleep?” He asked pointing his fork at her, mouth full of eggs.

She noticed his eggs had cheese and hers did not. “It’s rude to talk with your mouth full. And I slept excellently.”

Lyndon swallowed and wiped his mouth, “I could tell. Your bed head is horrendous.”

“Thank you, Lyndon.” She grumbled in a sarcastic tone. She sucked her teeth. “Why the fuck you got cheese and I don’t?”

“’Cause you don’t need it.”

“Why do you?”

“Calcium. You know you really woke up with a thousand questions.”

“Facts?”

“Facts. Just eat.”

Sayo rolled her eyes. “So first you go on my hair, now you say I’m fat?”

“No. I’m giving you a complement. You’re not fat yet.”

            Sayo knew he meant well, but Lyndon was never good at making things sound nice. As long as she’d known him, she’d laugh at his snide comments and passive aggressive charm. Yet, she had no idea how nasty he could be until he moved in with her; officially anyway. She acknowledged the differences between them and respected them. Herself was unable to be nice at all if she didn’t feel the need to. Few people appreciated her bluntness. Lyndon did.

Sayo sucked her teeth again. “Oh, shit you gave me butter though!” She exclaimed picking up her toast.

“Anything for my beautiful baby girl.” Lyndon jested pursing his lips.

Sayo loved it when he called her beautiful. She was aware at how beautiful Lyndon was with his slim figure, his lithe legs, and his striking hazel almond-shaped eyes. She found herself sometimes jealous that he was blessed with the gift of unquestioned attractiveness. She liked herself most times but wished she could be just as effortless and naturally good-looking as he was. But a complement from him meant he truly meant it. This helped to improve her mood until the next jibe would come.

The pair finished their food in relative silence. When the coffee was ready, they each had a large mug, black to fully start their day.

“Did you still want to go to that thing Aoko told us about.”

“The party?” Lyndon took a sip.

“It’s not a party.” Sayo squinted.

“It’ll end up being a party.”

“If it does it’ll just be more alcohol for us to bring back to the crib.”

“If it’s a party, then Boyet will show up.”

“It’s not even a party though. It’s a bunch of brains doing trivia and getting drunk.” Sayo set her mug down with a loud clunk.

“What the fuck you want with trivia games anyway?”

“Free expensive liquor.”

~ ~ ~

         Sayo was going through her draws trying to decide between a neon green t-shirt or a basic black camisole. She had every intention of going to the gathering despite Lyndon’s objections. Aoko, her brother had told her about the host’s parent’s alcohol collection and could maybe swipe some.

“You’re still going?!” Lyndon exclaimed from her doorway.

She looked at the outfit she was already putting together. “Yes.”

Lyndon invited himself into the room. “They will show up to anything that happens in the Bronx.”

“They don’t know anyone smart enough.”

“Jesus fucking Christ Sayo it’s a college party.”

“It’s not-”

“You say that!” Lyndon through up his hand, “You keep saying that! But it’s going to end being bigger than it was supposed to be and-”

“Yo! You deadass buggin’, B. Chill and think just for a second. Why are you even worried about them?”

“I’m not worried about myself.” His perfected eyebrows creased. “I’m worried about you. Last time Elias broke your arm because you were defending me!” He slammed dramatically down on the bed.

            Lyndon began to remember all the times Sayo had got in trouble for him. After all it was how they met and the reason the beef with the terrible two was still so heated. Since middle school Sayo would sit in the principal’s office and he would skip class to wait for her. He tried to convince himself constantly that their relationship was mutual. He knew Sayo was content with the arrangement, but he knew she deserved better. She didn’t deserve the suspensions, the black eyes, or the torn-up knuckles. She always went above and beyond for him.

“Lyndon,” She began softly sitting on the bed next to him, “You are being fucking extra.” She dragged out making him giggle, “As long as I’m with you and you got my back, we’ll be fine. We have always been fine.” She said surely disregarding the tiny white lie.

He sat up and looked up to his best friend. She was always kind and caring even when they got into arguments. Always looking out for him, keeping him safe, fed, and sheltered. More importantly she never treated him differently. She was the most amazing person to him and was often put in awe at how well she balanced everything in their lives. Sometimes he wanted to be like her but knew that he’d have to settle for just being graced by her light. She smiled, and it warmed him. Even I anything did happen, she would be there. He opened his arm for a hug. She obliged and squeezed him tight.

“I’m going to text my brother to make sure this lil’ thing’s still on and we’re not worrying about this for no reason. Now you are going to go take a shower. Your skin feels oily.”

Lyndon jumped up and ran out of her room with superhuman speed. She could hear him rummaging through the hall closet probably messing up all the organized shelves she just organized.

“Sayo! Where’s the Neutrogena?!” He screamed from inside the closet.

“I don’t know!” She answered proceeding to get ready. She opted out of the two tops she had already picked up and went for a white t-shirt with a gold foil crown on the front.

“Where is it?!”

Sayo disregarded him and stared at the outfit she had laid out on the bed.

~ ~ ~

            Almost half an hour had passed after Sayo had heard the shower water turn off. She got impatient so, she went to go knock on the bathroom door. To her misfortune Lyndon opened it before her knuckles could make contact. He was coiled in a white towel from his chest to just the top of his knees, his chestnut hair also wrapped. She stared at him blankly.

“You’re wearing my face mask! I told you to stop using it!” She scolded.

“I couldn’t find mine. I’m also naked.” He stated assuredly re-tucking the towel to his chest. “I’m not doing this right now. You can get your revenge by picking out my outfit.

Sayo scoffed, “Like I give a fuck. What took you so long?”

“Well,” Lyndon looked to the side which was just the white bathroom door, “I broke your hair dryer.” Lyndon knew to get passed her before she could process the information. She managed to only grab his towel before he barricaded himself in his bedroom.

~ ~ ~

Sayo was sitting in front of her mirrored-dresser, drying her hair manually. Lyndon slinked into her room. He wore a light blue V-neck and dark blue skinny jeans that made his legs look even longer. She let him borrow her white and black Arafat scarf, albeit two weeks ago, that would go well with his fedora.

“Well don’t you look nice?” She said to Lyndon looking at him through the mirror.

“Thank you. You look cute too. Do you want me to do your hair?”

Sayo dropped her hands. “You broke my shit.”

“I didn’t mean to. It happened all very suddenly.” Lyndon tried to defend himself

“Fuck outta’ here!”

“No! Yo-chan. I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to get me a new one.”

“Yes.” Lyndon ran over to hug and kiss her.

Sayo trying not to laugh, kept her sneer. “Get off!” After a few more apologies, Lyndon continued to style Sayo’s hair. “How did you break it?”

“Well, Thursday I was drying my hair and Henry kinda snuck up behind me. We started to-” Lyndon said casually parting her mane.

“Hey! I don’t care.” She waved her hand at him.

“Girl you will. Let me tell you.” He began a plait at her crown.

“Please don’t.” She made eye contact with him in the reflection. His look told her she didn’t have a choice.