#korean classes cancelled next week

[chadsuke]

critical autism moment incoming.

[restlessmaknae]

favourite sight // leehan

When the annual summer class trip means a visit to Busan and staying at Leehan’s family’s hotel, you know that it will be total chaos, you just don’t expect to fall for your arch nemesis, the most popular boy of the year - Leehan himself.

➳ Characters: class vice-president!Leehan x class president!female reader/you

➳ Genre: boarding school au, summer class trip au, enemies to lovers (but not really), rich kids au, fluff, comedy

➳ Words: 6.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of food, reader can't swim and almost drowns in one scene, academic pressure, playful banter between reader and Leehan in which Leehan is called a show off, stupid tall with stupid long eyelashes and stupid long legs (because she's oblivious duh)

➳ A/N: This story is the second installment of my 'love map' multifandom series which features 3 different idols and 3 different stories that take place in 3 different countries. The stories can be read on their own though.❤️

Header taken from this WHY Concept Film

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️

➳ Taglist: @s00buwu, @emmylksblog, @0310s, @hansuo

When the annual summer class trip means a visit to Busan and staying at Leehan’s family’s hotel, you know that it will be total chaos, you just don’t expect it to be this chaotic. Alas, you also end up falling for your arch nemesis, the most popular boy of the year - Leehan himself.

You weren’t supposed to stay at the hotel of Leehan’s family. You were supposed to go somewhere else, some place that had nothing to do with him, but the arranged accommodation went back on your request when they decided to take on organising a business event for an international company. Not that you could blame them; they were probably better off serving cocktail after cocktail to rich business people than babysit students who were not allowed to drink alcohol and bring in any either.

Like the show-off he was, Leehan rang his parents the moment your homeroom teacher announced that she would need to look for another accommodation, and asked for your help - you as class president and Leehan as vice-president. The boy was done within a few minutes, and your homeroom teacher looked like she was on the verge of crying when he confirmed that his family’s hotel had enough rooms for their class. She had already been stressed over organising this whole trip to Busan on her own while trying to accommodate all the parents’ requests, she probably already thought that she had to cancel the whole trip because of this.

The only reason you held yourself back from snorting was because of Miss Lee, otherwise, you would have made a comment on how Leehan always ended up playing the hero, and how he knew ‘someone’ wherever he went. Sure, everyone was famous and rich in one way or another at KOZ International High School as it was a private boarding school, the number 1 for university admission rate success in Asia and number 5 worldwide, but he just seemed to be everywhere.

Plus, since you were the class president and he was the vice-president, you just had to put up with it all the time. Even if it meant having to shoo away shrieking girls when they caught sight of him in the library as you two were picking up books for the next class or rolling your eyes when you collected mobile phones at the beginning of the day and yet another girl made a joke about how Leehan could keep their phone if it meant that they could have his heart.

You already knew that this class trip would be about him when Busan came out as the most voted destination in this year’s poll, the first Korean city after the last two years - it was Hanoi the summer after freshman year and Shanghai the summer after sophomore year. You just didn’t expect that it would be about him to this extent.

“Were your rooms really not sold out for that week during summer?” You quirked an eyebrow as you exited the teachers’ room, shooting the boy a glance. He didn’t seem to be offended by the implication behind your words, he merely said:

“The hotel has a separate building for events where mostly weddings take place and wedding guests can sleep, and it was coincidentally not booked yet. Wedding season starts a bit later into summer.”

“Of course,” you mumbled under your nose, not like you knew anything about the hospitality industry. Your parents owned a private clinic, the furthest thing from his family’s line of work.

“I’d say it was supposed to happen this way,” he shrugged his shoulders casually, the tie around his neck a bit looser than usual, and you had this inexplicably annoying urge to reach out and fix it for him. You wanted to save your dignity though, you could already imagine the teasing remarks you would get if you willingly did something like this for him, so no thanks, you would rather jump off a cliff.

“Are you that happy to go to Busan?”

“I mean, there’s the seaside, there’s my parents’ hotel, what’s there not to love?”

Everything, you wanted to say, but when you turned a corner, the hustle-bustle of the corridor filled with the students’ chatting blocked out all of the snarky thoughts in your head, and instead, you saved yourself from another 15 minutes of having to witness the boy’s popularity to yourself, and told him that you would go ahead and set up the Physics lab for next class, he could do it next week.

He didn’t protest, he merely gave you a bob of his head and a lazy half-smirk, something that made girls go crazy over him, except you.

The hotel was enormous, to say the least, and you weren’t even in the main area. You really had a separate building to yourself that had a dining room, a dance room and a karaoke room on the ground floor. You had the feeling that they turned a bar into the latter because there were shelves that seemed similar to shelves that held fancy bottles of alcohol, but nothing seemed out of place. You even had an outside pool and a direct view of the seaside, something that made everyone impressed.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us about this place in the previous years? We should have come here every summer before,” Yechan exclaimed as he took out his phone and started recording, probably filming a new video for his Youtube channel. It seemed that every mundane person was either too curious or too bored to get a glimpse into a boarding school student’s daily life because his channel had already accumulated 2 million followers, and he had only started last year. Though it definitely helped that he was half Canadian, half Korean, so he could speak both English and Korean and provide subtitles for both languages.

“I thought you said you wanted us to go to your parents’ hotel next time,” Jungwon chirped in, but the Canadian boy shook his head.

“Nah, Toronto is too cold for summer trips.”

“Can we use the pool too, Miss Lee?” Millie inquired after the two boys settled on dismissing Canada as a possible destination for next year’s class trip. Thank God next year’s trip will be the last one, you didn’t know how you would survive these events any longer. Plus, all the money that you spent on this summer trip should have been donated to charity in your opinion, but alas, it was mandatory.

“Of course, but only until 10 PM, and obviously, be responsible. Some of you can’t swim, so no pushing, alright?”

“Who can’t swim?” You heard Gyuvin ask with his jaw comically dropping, but his question was muffled by the cacophony of suitcase spinner wheels, dropped bags and the usual lively chit-chat of soon-to-be senior year students.

“How do you like it?” Leehan asked, leaning closer to you, so you could hear him, but you gave him a death glare for doing so, and stepped backwards. Too bad that a lamp pole was also there, and you almost bumped your head into it if it hadn’t been for Leehan’s hand taking the hit.

For a moment, you just blinked up at him and his stupid height, too embarrassed for your own good. You were the class president, for God’s sake, you were the person of order and responsibility, you couldn't randomly bump into lamp posts!

You could see from the corner of your eyes that Taesan - Leehan’s friend - thought better of waiting for him, and awkwardly turned around to walk towards the hotel, but you didn’t dare look for his full reaction. You were sure that your face was flushed as it was, you didn’t need anyone else’s reaction on top of Leehan’s.

“Are you okay?” The boy asked uncharacteristically gently, his voice void of any playfulness, which was almost a first for him. Why did he even have to have stupid long eyelashes? Ones that fluttered oh so beautifully while he was looking down at you.

“I’m fine. Never been better. You should just… keep your distance from me,” you warned him as you pushed him away, at least enough, so that you could grab your suitcase again and start walking towards the hotel. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you with his stupid long legs.

“I can see that my closeness is having an effect on you even though you clearly claimed in sophomore year that you are immune to boys like me.”

“I am. It’s not my fault that you sneaked up to me like that, and that lamp post was there behind me,” you pointed out defensively, and kept your eyes on the back of the last two students from your class.

Miss Lee got Mr Brown with him - your English teacher -, so that they could supervise your class, but they were at the front, and you and Leehan were always at the back at events like this, so that no one could get lost (like Yuma and Jo on a company visit to Samsung in sophomore year) or hide in a bush ever again (Gyuvin once tried that during a class trip).

“Well, this is my city, and I’m going to make sure everyone has the time of their life, including you,” Leehan announced triumphantly, flashing a smile at you that was akin to the ones he used when he was campaigning to be voted as the vice-president again after last year. No wonder Rei didn’t get the title even though you would have preferred to have her instead of Leehan.

“Sure. Good luck with that,” you wished with an eye roll, and urged Ricky in front of you to keep moving instead of checking his hair in the hotel’s glass door.

If Leehan’s idea of having the time of your life was handing out shark-shaped gummies and bringing giant Sony party speakers to the pool - the ones that even had microphones attached to them, so you could have a karaoke - on the second night, you would have a pretty miserable life.

Nevertheless, you were only there because Miss Lee and Mr Brown were on duty at the entrance, checking if no one tried to sneak alcohol into the hotel, so you didn’t even bother with a swimsuit, you merely wore a flowery summer dress. Much to some girls’ dismay, most of the boys didn’t go shirtless, they had long-sleeved yet tight swimwear and shorts, the ones people used for some water sports. Though since Ricky’s parents owned the brand they wore, you had an idea why.

Anton was on lifeguard duty since he was on the national swimming team, and he would probably rather jump in to save a drowning student than manoeuvre himself around guys playing with plastic water guns and girls chatting in the pool instead of outside of it. You asked him if he needed anything - something to drink or to take a break -, but he said that he was fine, so you didn’t need to worry.

You acknowledged his answer with a bob of your head, and turned around just in time to be splashed by a huge amount of water by Pierre who had just jumped in. You stood there, frozen, your summer dress completely sticking to your body, and you were in the middle of blinking the water out of your eyes when you heard someone yell ‘class president’ and then you were pushed into the water with the kind of force that you could not resist.

It’s not like you couldn’t get any wetter than this, but you couldn’t swim, and your flailing hands didn’t do a thing to keep you up. You were about to throw every kind of rationality out of the window as your basic survival instincts kicked in, but you could feel strong hands pulling you to the surface in no time, Anton’s body emerging from the water beside yours.

“Are you okay?” The boy inquired with big, bright eyes, his damp hair hiding most of his face before he reached out to push his hair back. 

Still struggling to breathe properly, you mumbled something akin to an answer, and blinked rapidly, taking in the silence around you and the concerned or curious eyes of your classmates.

The only one who wasn’t surprised to see you struggling was Anton since he had gotten the names of students who couldn’t swim in case no one else would jump in to save a drowning student - a list you had volunteered to put together and pass onto him. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that you would be the first one who had to be rescued by him, and that the whole class would know about the fact that you couldn’t swim already on the second day of the trip.

You, the straight A-student, class president since sophomore year, speaking three languages fluently and playing the violin professionally. You, the daughter of the owners of the most prestigious private clinic in not only Seoul but the whole country. You, who was not supposed to have any weakness or fear.

You could faintly hear someone apologise and Anton asking if you needed him to ask for a medical staff, but you shrugged everyone off. Your flip-flops were probably in the pool somewhere after your fall, and you couldn’t be bothered to go back and fetch them. Instead, you furiously trampled back into the hotel barefoot.

It wasn’t just the dress sticking to you, it was humiliation too, something that you had not experienced on such a wide level after being told in front of the whole class that you had messed up a basic equation during a Maths test. No one would have guessed that you had been ill the whole week before the test because you had not let them know about it.

When you heard footsteps behind you, you already knew who it was before you turned to face him in all your wet glory, pitiful compared to his beautiful shoulder-length hair, softest of the brown of chestnuts and fluffiest of the ruffable kind.

“What do you want? I can go to my room on my own, thank you so much,” you told him off before he could have given you an answer, but then, he draped a towel over your body without saying a word.

You were about to shrug it off, but he pulled it tighter around you, holding the ends of the towel with his fists. You looked up at him, eyes throwing angry daggers, and maybe that was what prompted him to justify his actions.

“Your dress… it’s kind of see-through now,” he blurted out as if it was difficult for him to say something that could have been - under different circumstances - borderline flirty. But this was in no way a time and place where you would have wanted to be told that the white flowery dress of yours that should have not been in contact with any kind of liquid was now showing everyone what was underneath. How stupid of you, how stupid of those stupid boys to still act like dumbass kids and push others into the water.

Even if it was not Leehan who did this to you, his remark set something off within you, like when the countdown is up on a ticking time bomb or the trigger is pulled.

“You see, that’s why I didn’t want to come here. It’s not enough that now the whole class knows that I can’t swim but they also saw my underwear. Great. I’m really having the best time of my life, Leehan,” you spitted out furiously, pushing his hands away before pulling the tower tighter around your body, and walking back to your room, drops of water and mortification following your barefoot steps.

Of course, the news of the incident reached your teachers pretty quickly, and both Miss Lee and Mr Brown were knocking on your door as soon as you managed to get changed and hide the remains of your tears with an embarrassing amount of concealer. You reassured them that you were fine, but they told you to take it easy for the rest of the night, they would ask Anton to look over the students in your place since he was already monitoring the pool either way.

Then, Noah also came by to apologise for pushing you into the water. It wasn’t even the most embarrassing part that he had to come by to do it, the most embarrassing part came when he gave you that pitiful look, that ‘oh, I didn’t know you can’t swim’, something that almost made you curse him out right on the spot. Instead, you told him to keep himself in check for the rest of the trip because you wouldn’t help him out in Biology if you ever heard him joke about this incident. He scurried away like a wounded animal, but at least, he came by.

When the third knock on your room came, you seriously contemplated not opening the door. After all, you could be listening to music with your noise-cancelling headphones on, or you could already be sleeping, or even crying in the bathroom like you had done so an hour ago. In the end, you didn’t want to be a coward, and opened the door, but the last person you wanted to see there was Leehan.

“Look, before you ask what I’m doing here, I want to say that I got some stuff for you from the kitchen because Miss Lee said that you didn’t come down for dinner, and I thought you might be hungry,” he started, holding up his hands in front of his chest as if saying that he knew you were about to ask him these questions. You were, and even if he thought that  you were moping in your room (which you did) because you were still embarrassed about what had just happened (which you were), you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing to him.

However, he beat you to it, and continued his monologue before you could even open your mouth to protest.

“It’s not because I think you wouldn’t come down after what happened, but if you’re worried about the others, don’t worry. There is already bigger news such as Kit confessing to Millie and Gyuvin stepping on a bee and getting stung, so everyone’s already over what happened with you. Maybe except Anton who kept asking if you were alright, but that boy is too kind-hearted not to do so,” he said so in such a conversational manner that someone walking by might have thought that you were talking about the weather.

Maybe it was the drowning experience getting to you or the genuine consideration in his words and actions, but you found yourself smiling, and before you could hide it, Leehan also noticed it.

“Oh great, you’re smiling! Now, eat your dinner or you won’t get tall,” he teased you as he reached out the plate of food he brought. There was a sandwich, some veggies, crisps and a napkin on it, plus a bottle of smoothie in his other hand.

“Yah, I take after my mother in terms of height. She would be sad if she heard you criticising my height,” you pointed out, puffing your chest out like you wanted to take pride in your frame. Not everyone could be so stupidly tall as him (and many other boys in the class, by the way).

“Alright, alright, I’ll take it back.”

“Well, thank you,” you retorted a bit playfully before looking down at the plate in your hand. “And for the food, too,” you added a bit more seriously while you looked back at him. He just kept staring at you, the ends of his lips curling upwards in somewhat of an affectionate gesture, and it was so unlike the Leehan that you knew that you found it difficult to form coherent words.

“And the towel, too,” you found yourself admitting, a bit struck by that never-seen-before smile of his. Even his dimples popped off when the smile reached a certain height, and suddenly, you had no idea what to say.

“Well then, I guess my duty’s done for today. Good night, Y/N!” Leehan broke the silence first, breaking the serene moment, but you were actually thankful for him. For a second, you were scared that if you saw more of this side of him, you would start falling for him, and you couldn’t allow yourself to.

“Good night, Leehan!” You wished with a smile that you would not take responsibility for, before closing the door on him.

It’s not that you and Leehan were enemies as per se. It’s more like you were usually of a different opinion, and as class president and vice-president who had to work together pretty much all the time, it was quite bothersome to put up with it. Not to mention the crowd of fangirls following him everywhere.

At first, you thought that he was just a pretty face, joyfully swimming in his glory, but from time to time, you could catch a glimpse into how taxing it was to act like he did so on the daily - reacting to girls with a kind smile no matter what they said, playing along with their flirty remarks and always trying to say the right words to avoid getting into trouble. When some students’ inquiries were far too personal or pushy, you tried to step in, and made excuses for you two, so that you could leave the scene, and far too often, Leehan thanked you for it. He didn’t have to know that you didn’t do it for yourself (which you claimed that you did) but for him.

However, after the events on the second day, you didn’t know what to do with yourself when you were around him. After all, he had no reason to pay you a visit and to bring you dinner. He didn’t even have to confirm it with Miss Lee that you hadn’t come down to get dinner. So why was he going the extra mile? Your first thought was that he wanted something from you, but when the next day passed by without any favours, just a day of going to the aquarium, walking along the seaside and a moderate pool party at night, you grew suspicious.

On the fourth day, when you were done with sightseeing for the day, the teachers gave you three hours of free time to look around by yourselves, and it was the perfect chance to ask the boy about it while the students around you were busy deciding on their activity.

“Do you want something from me?” You posed the question at Leehan straight-forwardly, and the boy furrowed his eyebrows in question, appearing perplexed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean… you’re awfully kind to me these days. Perhaps… did you do something to my locker before we left for the trip?” You guessed suspiciously, suddenly being reminded of the time he put a heart-shaped sticker on your locker with the words ‘class president’ written with ink in the middle of it. It was after you were selected class president for the second consecutive year, and it was his first time being the vice president beside you. Needless to say, it was impossible to remove that sticker no matter how hard you tried, you could only manage to wash off the ink, and now it seemed even more embarrassing to have a random heart-shaped ticker on your locker from no other than Leehan.

The boy must have found it extremely amusing to see you suspecting him like that because he let out that endearing giggle of his that was both boyish and innocent.

“Now that you mention it, maybe I should have…” He teased you with a lopsided grin, and you were about to smack him in the side when Gyuvin, Ricky and Taesan came up to you to ask where you were thinking of going in your free time. You heard Millie, Liv and Selina say that they would go shopping, and Leo said something about wanting to try fishing (though you had no idea if it was allowed at this part of the seaside), you didn’t know about others’ plans.

Truth to be told, you had no idea about yours either, you would probably just find yourself a cosy little café and take a breather because it was hot and stuffy out here, but you didn’t want anyone else to follow suit, so you didn’t say a word.

“Taesan, you know that place that I’ve told you about? You should go ahead with the guys, we need to discuss something with Y/N about tomorrow’s activities,” Leehan answered first, and you gave him a side eye. What more did you need to discuss with him other than the ones you already did?

Taesan seemed somewhat perplexed for a moment, but then, his features smoothened, and he coolly told the others to follow him. Even though Gyuvin suggested that they could wait for you, Ricky patted his shoulder and dragged the lanky boy with him, so it was just you and Leehan again.

“What more do we need to discuss?”

“I want to show you something,” he announced, scratching the back of his neck a bit shyly. Since you were awful at reacting normally to surprises, you merely said:

“Is this the part where you will take me to an abandoned warehouse and leave me there, so that you can be the class president next year?”

Leehan let out a deep, joyous laughter hearing your question, and reassured you that no, he wouldn’t want to run for class president because that was your title, and no, he wouldn’t take you to an abandoned warehouse. He explained that the guys might not enjoy what he was about to show you, but if he remembered correctly, you would do so.

You eyed him for a good thirty seconds before letting him take you where he wanted. After all, it was his city, he knew his way around, so you followed him, and soon enough, you found yourself in the Busan Arboretum with one of the prettiest glasshouses you had ever seen in real life.

You were waiting for the boy to crack a joke or say something teasing, but instead, he merely declared:

“I remembered you making a presentation about the functionality of glasshouses and ending it with different glasshouses in the country, and I don’t know if you remember, but this was one of them.”

“I do, but how do you remember that?” You turned the tables, turning to look at him, to look him in the eyes because you didn’t get it. How did he remember such an insignificant detail from a presentation you had given years ago?

Leehan smiled at you gently as if he was looking at a child, ready to say something, but then, he decided otherwise and averted his eyes to the plants in front of him. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat and asked if you wanted to take pictures. So you let him take a few shots of you in exchange for doing the same for him, and it was all fun and games, acting silly and joking about pushing the other into a cactus when a sudden realisation hit you like lighting:

Were you falling for Leehan?

On the fifth day, you went to the Gamcheon Culture Village with its picturesque murals and quaint alleys, soaking up a mixture of art and history while listening to the tour guide who was assigned to your group. There were many pretty stairs, vibrant art installations and even a statue of the Little Prince and its Fox looking over the houses that were clumped together as if they were meant to be. The tour was supposed to last 4 hours, but it was close to 5 hours by the time everyone stopped posing for pictures and halting at every possible corner.

You must have been visibly in awe because Leehan joked that you should close your mouth, but when you admitted that you didn’t expect Busan to be this diverse, you caught sight of a proud smile stretching across his lips. He reminded you that he told you that he would make sure everyone has the time of their life, but you rebutted by stating that the itinerary was mainly Miss Lee’s work, not his. To that, he didn’t say anything, just kept smiling to himself like a fool, giving yet another reason for Taesan to give him a side eye.

After finishing the tour with a lunch break in between, you picked up some ice cream before the tour bus picked you up and took you back to the hotel. That night was BBQ-themed and there was also a campfire, something so movie-like and childish, yet it had a special feel to it because most of you had never had a campfire. Your families weren’t the typical families that took you camping for vacation. Most of you flew to other countries to visit a store from your parents’ chain or to accompany your relatives to important events. Having a BBQ where you could take part in grilling the meat, preparing the veggies and side dishes, and singing songs around the campfire weren’t exactly the kind of activities that you were used to, but no one complained. Not even Ricky who ate his hamburger with a knife and a fork because he hated getting his hands dirty.

It was also fun listening to all the different songs your classmates sang in all the different languages - from French to Spanish, Vietnamese to Korean -, how different they sounded, yet how much you enjoyed them all despite not understanding the words. One thing that you liked about your school - and your class - was that it was so diverse, you never had to worry that you would stand out because of your skin colour or hair, everyone was welcome. Whilst that didn’t lift the weight off your shoulders that the academic pressure put on, you were grateful that you had the chance to be exposed to such a supportive learning environment.

“Wanna play Truth or Dare?” Zack asked enthusiastically after it seemed like everyone was out of songs, and even Miss Lee dared to sit beside Mr Brown, reassured that no one would set the grill on fire (though Leo was close to it at one point).

“Really? We are almost seniors, that’s for kids,” Yechan refuted with a huff, rolling his eyes in a sassy way.

“Does that mean you have something to hide?” Wonyoung asked with a playful grin, and that was all it took for Yechan to give in and join the game. You passed on it, not wanting to be the victim of any of the ‘dares’ which - based on last years’ games - always included doing aegyo, a popular girl group dance (for both boys and girls), reenacting drama scenes, doing 50 pushups, chugging down Coke within 1 minute or kissing someone. You didn’t want to be a victim of any of it.

The others only protested for like a minute before they forgot about it, and let you walk away from the circle of students sitting around the campfire. You walked up to the edge of the property, leaning against the railing and taking in the scenery. You were so used to the huge skyscrapers in the capital city and the magnificent walls of your boarding school that times like this reminded you that there was a world outside of the little bubble you existed in for most part of the year, or at least the school year.

“Guests always get surprised when they see this view because they initially think our description of a beautiful view of the sea is an overstatement,” Leehan remarked in a conversational manner while he was walking up to you, and halted beside you, only an arm's length away. His hair was seemingly freshly washed, some unruly locks escaping his earlobe and falling into his eyes instead. Even though he did tuck them behind his ears dutifully, you were itching to do the same for him.

Gosh, you were really going insane, weren’t you? And yet… falling for him never seemed so thrilling.

“There are a lot of scams nowadays,” you hummed, pointing out that a lot of accommodations did indeed lie about beautiful views and such, so that people would choose them. His family didn’t lie though. “It’s so pretty,” you admitted quietly, watching as the setting sun painted different streaks onto the surface of the water, colours ranging from grape purple to princeton orange. You usually didn’t notice the sunrise or the sunset when you were scooped up in your room or the library, so having to witness such beautiful installations in the sky for the past week was kind of moving.

“You are prettier.”

When the words rolled off Leehan’s tongue, you snapped your head back to look at him, but just like his tone, his expression was gentle, too. He appeared so soft, so dreamy in that moment with the sunset painting colours onto the canvas of his skin, that for the first time in a while, you were completely speechless beside him. As if you were enchanted or starstruck. Both of which could actually be true.

Leehan though, he took note of your silence, too.

“I don’t even get an “oh, that’s too cheesy, stop it”?” He asked, now with a lopsided grin, and you let out a light-hearted giggle in return. Something weightless bubbled up inside of you when you simply stated:

“I would tell you that if I didn’t know that you like me.”

The boy’s eyes widened to almost twice their size, his lips slightly parting. He looked so baffled, almost as if you had told him that you wouldn’t run for class president next year - something that everyone took for granted after your first year together.

“Y-you know?”

“I mean, I had a feeling after the second day when you checked up on me and brought me dinner, but I became certain after the arboretum visit,” you confessed, somewhat easier now that you saw his reaction, and he didn’t deny it. Maybe the only one who needed convincing about one’s feelings was you about your own. “You didn’t even tell me why you remembered that glasshouse presentation of mine, so after I did some analysing and calculating of our three years together, that’s the conclusion I reached.”

Despite your voice not wavering, your heart was going wild, thumping against your ribcage. You didn’t know why because you knew he liked you, and you liked him too, but still… You could barely process your own feelings, let alone his feelings towards you, and now you saw all the little interactions you had with him before in a whole new light.

“And is that a satisfactory conclusion for you?” He quirked an eyebrow, both amused and uncertain, and the way he played along was all there was to say about your dynamics.

“Yes, because I feel the same way.”

“What kind of same way?” Leehan teased as he took a step closer to you, purposefully making you say it out loud. You heaved a sigh, looking away from his gorgeous face to be able to pull yourself together before you looked back and said:

“You know… I like you, too,” you blurted out as fast as you could, and you were awarded with his cutest toothy smile, dimples popping out, eyes turning into little crescents. Something that you had not seen him display around any girl before, and the fact that it was for you made you feel a bit emotional.

“Of course,” he mused as he reached out, and his fingers started playing with yours resting on the railing, testing the waters. Maybe a few days ago you would have said that you were unable to move because it was so sudden, so unexpected, but now you knew that it was because it was him, and because one touch of his electrified you from head to toe. “I knew you weren’t immune to me either,” he added playfully, and you were about to smack him in the chest, but he caught your hand, and intertwined your fingers instead.

And you let him tease you as much as he wanted, at least for now.

Next day rolled by quickly, and it was already time to leave. You couldn’t deny that you came here, hating even the idea of being in this city, let alone Leehan’s family’s hotel, but now, you were reluctant to leave because leaving meant leaving him behind.

“It’s just for the summer, Leehan,” you reminded him when he was sulking to you in the hotel lobby, but it seemed like he wasn’t convinced. He tried to make you stay for at least a few more days because he wouldn’t go back with the rest of you to Seoul, but you told him that you were invited to a few events with your family in the next week, so you had to go back. Plus, you were volunteering during the summer at the children’s ward in a local hospital, but you reassured him that you could squeeze some time in to come back to Busan.

“But still… we’ve only just begun,” he whimpered like a child, his fingers playing with yours as you were standing face-to-face. Even yesterday, he could barely let go of you when he walked you back to your room, and today, he was being clingy, too. No wonder the whole class knew by now that you two were together.

“You know, there’s this thing called technology. We can text, videochat, whatever you want.”

“But it won’t be the same as seeing my pretty girlfriend in person,” he protested with an all too cute pout, and even though you should have been prepared for compliments like this from him, you weren’t.

Yechan walked by you with an audible cough, followed by Ricky and Gyuvin. Gyuvin’s eyes widened comically when he saw Leehan’s fingers holding onto yours, and he turned to his friends, asking since when you two were a thing.

“Dude… you’re like three years behind,” Yechan snickered into his hands, watching Gyuvin’s meme-like surprised face with amusement. Ricky just looked at him, probably wondering how they ended up becoming friends.

“Wait! Have they been together all these years?”

You couldn’t help a laughter bubbling up in your chest as the three of them walked out of the hotel. There were a few girls afterwards who giggled when they saw you two so close to each other, but no one said anything hurtful. Maybe they indeed knew all along.

“I really gotta go now. You know, since my vice-president won’t be with me, I’ll have to do the attendance check alone.”

“Since when was I ‘your’ vice-president, hmm?” Leehan asked with a smirk, leaning closer to you to watch your face crumble from up-close, then flush, dressing your cheeks in a ruby-red cover.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, you did.”

“I didn’t, you heard it wrong.”

“I heard it very clearly, you called me your vice-president, and I-”

Whatever Leehan was about to say was muffled by the kiss you planted on his left cheek in an attempt to shut him up and leave the topic as it is. However, the boy completely froze, and he only managed to pull himself together when you eventually walked away from him to get on the school bus.

Then, he was in full-on puppy mode, waving at the bus with his toothy smile, his eyes turning to little crescents again. Your favourite sight, you decided right then and there.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

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[h4chi]

love alarm, part i.

where THEO makes YN’s love alarm ring.

theo x female reader. 909 words

“i can’t believe you downloaded it.”

yoon keeho sighed from his seat across you, his head resting on the palm of his hand while he boringly sipped some tea.

you smiled to yourself, fingers busy playing with your brand new phone case.

“intak asked me to do so. he said he made a bet with one of his friends that he could get a few people to download it. stupid bet, to be honest.” you smiled softly. “but you know i’d do anything for him.”

keeho simply chuckled. “yeah, i know. he knows too. kind of easy.”

keeho’s eyes moved from your figure to the entrance of the cafe upon hearing the bell ring.

“oh, you want to turn around so bad.”

“who’s there?” you sip from your cappuccino, fighting the urge to embarrass yourself and your best friend in front of whoever was at the entrance.

“it’s jiung with… jia? park jia, i think. isn’t she the 5th girl he’s going out with this week?”

“park jia as in kim jongseob’s best friend?” he hums in approval.

“poor thing. i could never bare breathing the same air as him for more than five minutes.” keeho stifles a laugh with a smile, before gazing back to the entrance door.

“careful, they’re coming here.” he fix his sitting position. ”behave, please. we’re in public.”

“sure thing, dad.”

“so, who do we have here?” jiung puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling first at you and then at keeho. “high school heartthrob keeho and the beautiful yn. who if not my favorite duo! how is it going, guys?” he doesn’t move his hand from your figure, and you can feel jia glaring at you next to her boyfriend.

keeho answers for the both of you. “we’re doing just fine, jisung, thank you for asking.”

jiung raises his hand to catch a waiter’s attention, then mouthing him a ‘the usual’.

keeho looks at him in a way to silently tell him to go away, while jiung looks back with a stretched smile on his face, with no intention of moving from the spot he’s currently standing in.

there’s just a second of silence before you decide to interrupt. “so, how’s it going with your new girl?” you smile at the lady you just mentioned, who doesn’t change her expression from earlier. “does she know you were here yesterday around the same hour with sora? or two days ago with mia?” jia furrows her eyebrows, clearly unaware.

“hey hey hey, yn, my dear.” jiung finally leaves your shoulder in peace, both his hands raising in defense from your recent statement. “can’t a guy go out with his friends in peace?” he puts an arm around jia, who looks pissed at his last statement, but still decides to stay where she is.

“yeah, whatever. make sure to pay for her at least.” you stand up and look at keeho, who gets the hint and copies your movements. “we’re leaving, we got class in 5. see you around?”

keeho bids goodbye at the couple, then following you to the exit.

“bye lovebirds!” jiung shouts.

“yn, what did i tell you?” you’re walking to class. actually, keeho’s english class, as yours, italian, just got cancelled.

“i didn’t say anything bad! just the truth.” you raised your hands in defense. “i feel sorry for all the girls he went to bed with. you know we have this beef going on from, like, 7th grade.” you keep on rambling. “i despise him.” you narrow your eyes. “a lot.”

keeho let’s out a sigh, passing a hand through his hair. “next time, let’s just leave.”

it’s silence for a while, and then you take a good look at him from your peripheral view.

“is everything good?”

he nods.

“i didn’t do the homework. miss song will kick my ass for real this time.”

you stop in front of his class, getting some papers from your bag. “here. you can pay me back with a coffee tomorrow morning.”

“oh my god, i love you. you’re the best.” keeho quickly takes the papers from you, hugging you. “i’ll go now, see you in korean?”

you let out a “uh-uh” as you then start making your way to the school cafeteria.

the big room is now empty, as all of the students have already left to reach their classes. you take a seat on a table in the left corner of the room, going to charge your ipad to the nearest outlet. you put your headphones on, playing some music on shuffle.

theo looks at his phone, a cross covering the text ‘japanese - room 4’ on his school’s schedule app. he looked around, not a soul to be seen, and started making his way out of the building.

apart from the faint sound of music coming from your device, the big, white room is completely silent. it’s too late for theo to go back when he sets foot in the place, and you both hear a notification from your phone.

you pause the music, widening your eyes while staring incredulously at your screen.

someone likes you within a 10 meters radius.

you look up, and your eyes meet theo’s. he seems also aware of what just happened, and he does the first thing that comes to his mind: he quickly runs outside.

you’re still sitting on your chair, frozen, completely immobilized.

you don’t know what to do, nor what to think.

read part ii here !! back to masterlist.

P1HARMONY MASTERLIST !

© H4CHI 2022 do not copy or repost anywhere.

[a-multilingual-dream]

Hello!

My name is Juliet. I recently finished my masters degree in sociolinguistics, and then moved to France to work for a travel company. I used my first three months of living in this new country and working full time to get settled in, but now I'm ready to get back to my language studies!

And what better place to get motivation than here ;)

Let me introduce the languages that i speak / want to speak:

🇩🇪 German 🇩🇪 (Native)

This is my mother tongue and i actually have a certificate to teach German as a foreign language - i love teaching it, so if anyone needs help, don't hesitate to contact me.

🇺🇲 English 🇺🇲 (C1 / C2)

I started learning English at 12 years old in high school, and later taught myself by reading English books and watching English tv shows. My master program was mostly in English and i actually wrote my thesis in English, so I'm pretty comfortable with the language.

🇨🇵 French 🇨🇵 (C1)

Oh French - my love and my enemy. I grew up next to the French border and starting learning it in 5th grade. I proceeded to do 2 student exchanges in France, spent a year as an au pair in Paris, later did my Erasmus semester in Paris and recently moved back to France. I love France, i love French - and the pressure is high to speak it fluently. This actually makes me pretty self-conscious when speaking it, which in turn makes me worse at it. By moving to France, i hope to really improve my language skills, especially my vocabulary.

🇮🇹 Italian 🇮🇹 (B1)

Italian is my favorite language in the world, and Italy is my favorite country in the world. I just love everything about it, which is why I decided to learn Italian a few years ago. I have been studying it on and off for about 4 years, a mix of beginner classes at my university and self study. After finishing my masters this spring, i spent the summer traveling through Italy and ended the trip with a 2 week language course in Torino, and it was absolutely amazing! I'm excited to keep learning and to hopefully go back to Italy many times :)

🇯🇵 Japanese 🇯🇵 (beginner)

I've been wanting to study Japanese for sooo long, i think it's been 5 years since i bought my first Japanese language book. 5 years later, do i speak any Japanese? Nope. I can read and write hiragana and katakana, quite a few kanji, and i know basic sentence structure. But that's it. I think it's soo interesting to learn all about a language that's completely different from all the languages i know, but that also makes it challenging to learn it all by myself. I had planned and booked a 6-week language course in Tokyo in the summer of 2020, and was soo excited that i cried when I booked it. Well, I cried even more when the whole trip got cancelled bc of COVID... After that i didn't really get back into studying it, although I'm still as interested in it as ever. So I've been thinking about trying out italki this year... I will try to make a decision about how to go forward with my Japanese study during January.

~Other~

If i had the time to study more languages (which at the moment i absolutely do not, but life is long) i would be interested in Chinese and Korean. After getting to know the basics of Japanese i find it really fascinating to learn a whole new writing system and a completely different grammar, and although I've had absolutely no connection to Asia so far in my life, i absolutely want to travel there and learn more about its numerous languages (which i know aren't just Japanese, Chinese and Korean 😉). It's just like there's a whole new world to explore there!

So that was my (not so short) introduction. I'll be looking for langblrs that post more or less about the languages I'm learning, so if anyone who studies any of my languages sees this post, don't hesitate to leave a like and I'll have a look at your account!

To be continued...

[ollieofthebeholder]

So I've been seeing this post doing the rounds again, and I'm reminded of a specific incident from my university days...not from the subject of the email exchange itself, from one of the professor's comments in the reply.

Picture the scene: Norfolk, VA, March of 2010. Three weeks earlier the entire Virginia Wesleyan (then College, now University) campus had closed down due to a predicted nor'easter that didn't exactly manifest. So when it began to snow, administration decided, "Oh, no, we're not doing THAT again. We'll leave it up to the individual professors to decide if they want to cancel class, and up to the individual students if they feel safe enough to attend."

My Modern History of Korea and Japan professor, whom I normally adored and who was a) the only reason I was taking this class specifically and b) the reason I was considering either switching to or adding a history major, did not decide to cancel class.

I was living on campus at the time, but I had already slipped and fallen and fucked up my knee during an ice storm earlier that winter and did not want to risk making this worse, so I emailed those professors who had not cancelled class for the day and stayed holed up in my tiny closet of a dorm room. Most of my professors were understanding and several of them chose to cancel class because of the number of students who also said they would not be coming.

Margolies was not one of them.

The snow melted in time for the next class, so I made my way to the other side of campus. While standing outside the door to the classroom waiting to go in, one of my classmates suddenly frantically asked me if I had done "the essay" and said she'd forgotten. I had no idea what she was talking about - I didn't remember a paper due on the syllabus that day - and told her so. Another classmate overheard and asked if I'd been in class the previous day; when I said no and explained my reasoning, he informed me that Margolies had been apparently angry with how many students "cut his class" and given everyone a flash assignment, due the next class, along with strict instructions NOT to mention it to anyone who hadn't been there; he also told them that anyone who didn't have it at the start of the next class would be sent to the computer lab to work on it during class.

Sure enough, first thing he did when class began was to ask everyone to turn it in and send the rest of us to the computer lab with instructions on what the essay was supposed to be on. I was kind of furious, but I went along with my classmates and sat down at a computer to work. Margolies expected titles on our essays, but I wasn't sure what my title would be yet. As a placeholder to maintain the formatting so I wouldn't go over the page limit, and still in a fit of frustration over the whole debacle, I put as a temporary title "I Call Shenanigans On This Bullshit Assignment".

It took me like twenty minutes, tops, to write this essay - it was like five paragraphs on some hyper-specific topic of modern Korean history that I've forgotten now, thirteen years later, but we had our books so it wasn't hard - printed it out, and returned to class. They were watching a film on, I think, pottery techniques, so I handed in my essay and plunked myself in my usual spot to at least pretend to watch the film.

I didn't realize Margolies was grading the essays then and there until, maybe fifteen minutes after I got back, his voice broke into a brief silence in the film's soundtrack:

"What does 'I call shenanigans' mean?"

[addierose444]

Busy Weekend in April 2023

As indicated by the title, this was one of my busiest weekends in recent memory. While it was a lot of fun, I’m a bit worried about the coming week given how unproductive it was and how much work I really needed to have gotten done. 

Thursday:

Okay, Thursday’s not really the weekend, but it was Celebration, so it seemed worth including. Besides, I managed to get my Korean cinema film screening canceled for this important campus event. Celebration started back in the 90s following some homophobic incidents and presently serves to celebrate the queer community and love in general. Typically it takes place in November, but for some reason, it was pushed to this spring this year. Sort of nice to have it in the spring instead because past Celebrations have been really really cold. Overall, there were great summer concert vibes and we watched various houses and other groups perform. 

Friday:

I kicked off my Friday with ice cream and popsicles from a popup event organized by the president. It was brutally hot last week, so these frozen treats were much needed. Afterward, I headed to EGR 410 to attend a panel discussion about work-life balance. I then headed to the Design Clinic lab to give a marketing pitch to executives at our sponsoring company (over Zoom). Next, I grabbed a burrito from a food truck parked outside of the Indoor Track & Tennis Complex (ITT). The food trucks were there for Draper Competition which is an entrepreneurship competition that Smith hosts each year. As has become a bit of a regular event, I headed to State Street Fruit Store for their Friday wine tasting. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any wine this week, so had to settle for trying beer (which I’m not really a fan of). Next up on this busy day was a mini-concert by a band called Michelle. This concert was somehow associated with the aforementioned Draper Competition. As the concert was really short, we also had the chance to attend the Smith K-Pop Dance Crew (SKDC) end-of-year showcase which also featured K-pop dance groups from throughout the five colleges. Finally, I attended a cat's birthday party. 

Saturday:

Saturday was a bit more chill and started off with a walk and brunch. Much of my Saturday was spent resting following the busy Friday. In the afternoon, I attended the Senior Spring Soree which was an event hosted by The Alumnae Association Board of Directors that served to welcome us seniors to the Alum Network. During the event, we had the chance to talk with members of the board and enjoy nice appetizers and drinks. We were also urged to download the Smith College Network app and got to pick up our class pin. I didn’t know this before, but apparently, our class color is green. 

The other crazy thing that happened at this event was that I was one of two raffle winners! The prize was a cooler filled with Smith merch and products from companies founded by Smithies! In addition to what’s shown below, I also got a bag of  Kahawa 1893 Coffee, but already gave it to a friend as I don’t drink coffee. (Fun fact about me though is that I love coffee Oreo ice cream!) And while you can’t really see it in the photo, the small bottle contains Libellula extra virgin olive oil. I suppose this post really comes full circle as co-founder Julia Franchi Scarselli ’18 participated in the Draper Competition back when she was at Smith. The other Smithie product is marshmallows from Nomadic Kitchen. 

The next event was another birthday party for another non-human, our house mascot Safety Man. This was a slumber party-themed event where folks were painting their nails and using face masks. I pretty much just hung out and ate kettle corn. I left this event early to head to the Notables (a Smith a capella group) concert. While it was a nice concert and all, my friend and I felt a bit deceived as it was falsely advertised as a Taylor Swift concert. (They called it the Eras Jam and had the names of Taylor’s different albums on the poster, but didn’t play a single of her songs. Well, technically they played the 10 Minute Version of All Too Well during intermission). As you’ll know from my post on my Spotify Wrapped, I’m definitely not a Swifty, but her music has grown on me over the years and is some of the only presently popular music that I don’t dislike. The Notables did perform Carly Simon’s Your So Vein, but otherwise, I didn’t really know any of the music which made it less fun. One cute thing about this concert was that they brought up a number of alumnae on stage for the final piece. I concluded the day with an evening trip to CVS to pick up some frozen mac and cheese as I was craving mac and cheese and realized that I’d inadvertently skipped dinner. 

Sunday:

I spent all of today at Farley Ledges rock climbing! It was a really fun day, but I’m now thoroughly exhausted. We set up six climbs, but I did eight climbs as I reclimbed two of them to clean the anchor. Upon returning to campus, I took a shower and then attended my house’s POCheese boba event. Afterward, I grabbed a quick dinner from the Campus Center and returned to my room to write this blog post. Next up, is unfortunately homework and hopefully a good night’s sleep.

[life-on-the-spectrum]

How July has gone so far:

- The head teacher at the school I used to work at, where my husband still works, asks me to come sub for a week. A teacher whose contract is up at the end of July has to leave a bit early to start her next job, perfectly normal, no worries. I ask if they need me to the end of July, because I DO have to be preparing for an international move. The head teacher says no, just the one week. 

- I find out that the teacher who’s leaving is only doing so because the mothers of the students complained so much about their babies having an OBESE teacher (I’ve ranted about fatphobia over here before.) that the school refused to sign a wonderful teacher for a second year. Officially, it’s because of a failed Open Class, but we’ve ALL failed Open Classes before and got rehired. I am irate. 

- I learn on the day before I start subbing that the head teacher told everyone that I really AM subbing for two whole weeks, not the one that I consented to. I can’t refuse by this point, either. The agreement was made. On Monday, the head teacher tells me I misunderstood her. No, she said it pretty explicitly. Pointed to the calendar and everything, said “one week.”

- On Wednesday, the headmistress asks if I can cancel our flight plans for the move and sub for two months for a friend of hers whose school is infamous for abusing and screwing over their teachers. Said subbing job would not only take ALL of my time between now and the flight, but would keep us until after our visas are expired... which would make us illegal immigrants, get us deported as soon as we try to enter the airport, and no ESL school will ever hire someone with that on their records. 

- On Friday, I see that a piece of art that’s been missing from my house for a while now is being displayed on the desk of my husband’s coworker. She’s been in our apartment many times, and it used to be on my fridge. I thought I’d accidentally thrown it away. Apparently she stole it. 

- Friday night, the head teacher tells me that yeah, the new teacher is already here, but they need time to train. And me, being as pissed off as I am about how this week has gone, am expected to do the training... in classes I never taught when I worked ther formally, because they gave the outgoing teacher the worst possible schedule in hopes that she wouldn’t ask for a second contract.

- Monday: the new hire says that they heard some scary things from other teachers about this school after they arrived, and they’re glad they made sure to bring a return flight fare with them. What do you mean, you don’t know how my schedule works, Angie? The school promised I’d be trained by someone who worked here for five years, and you never once taught this curriculum that the school bought after you left????

- Monday night: It’s report card night! By the way, the outgoing teacher’s report cards, since the curriculum changed, work completely differently to the cards you know how to do. New Hire doesn’t know why you don’t know how to do the thing. You’re supposed to be training them how to do this thing!!!!!!!!!

- Tuesday: The outgoing teacher didn’t leave any information for the last 2 weeks of their time about who was at what point in which book, and now none of the Korean teachers who worked with her are able to tell the mothers when they need to buy new books. Also, all of the kindergarten classes she taught are at least 3 weeks behind in their books. I’m the teacher for these classes (as of 10 days ago, and for only 3 more days), so the Korean teachers are told by the boss that I hold this information because the outgoing teacher who basically got terminated for her weight and has apparently been crying for a month about it (valid) would TOTALLY relay this information to me before leaving for a nicer school. 

- Wednesday, today: All of the English teachers learn that the reason so many kids have been on “trips” lately is not because it’s summer. There’s a Covid outbreak going on that the headmistress has been covering up to keep from losing money if the Moms pull their children again. The English teachers have started to test positive, not having been informed that they were exposed. One of the teachers just had next week’s vacation, with her family flying in from New England, cancelled. Because she’s going to be quarantined. 

[byunbaekby]

Mythomaniac—childhood best friend!haechan x female reader.

summary: he’s your best friend, he’s always been. but sometimes you have to stop gazing through those rose colored lenses to see donghyuck for who he really is; a liar.  warnings: recreational drug use, language, hyuck being an asshole maybe, depictions of a toxic relationship, peer pressure, happy ending? what’s that genres: childhood best friends to almost lovers (?), angst, fluff if you squint, coming of age word count: 10.5k author’s message: big thank you @yongiefilms​ and @gardenpebble​​ for proofreading this and giving me the confidence to post this. this has been a work in progress for a long time, and i hope you all enjoy it!  this story is inspired by the songs, “liar” by leon and “i swear i’ll never leave again” by keshi. i would recommend listening to these!

-

The first time Lee Donghyuck lies to you, you’re both eight years old and fighting over the playground swing.

It’s your turn, you argue, kicking the floor as tears well in your eyes. Recess is over in five minutes and you’ve been waiting for Juna to get off since it started! But then this random dark-haired boy suddenly shows up and is going to take it away from you. 

“It’s my turn!” You screech again, on the edge of a temper tantrum. 

Your shrill tone causes Donghyuck to wince, and being much more mannered than you, he sighs in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll push you. Tomorrow, you push me. Okay?”

Sniffling, you nod and make your way onto the swing. When you jump up and land your bottom on the seat, your toes barely brush the ground. You grasp tightly onto the swing, looking over your shoulder at the boy who’s disappeared behind you. “Not too hard, okay? Not too high.”

“I won’t push too hard.” You’re still unconvinced.

“Promise?” 

His response comes out as smooth as honey. “Promise.” His hands are already on your back, pushing you forward ever so lightly. It’s okay at first, and a bright smile spreads across your lips as you register the breeze fanning across your face. 

A boisterous laugh leaves your lips, like sparkling stars in the dark of the night. For a moment your small childish world is overrun by excitement and enjoyment; the only thing that exists in this moment is you and the swing. From the height you’re at you can almost see the whole playground. 

Wait—the whole playground? Were you already up this high?

When you reach the highest peak of your pendulum you look down, and your eyes widen at the distance from the ground that you are. Your bright laugh now turns into a terrified shriek. “Too high! Too high! Let me down!”

Donghyuck is, at first, unaware of just how frightened you are, but when you start flailing around in fear, his eyes widen. It all happens so fast. You swing back and forth a few times but your limbs are flying around so impulsively in your moment of fear that the boy has to scoot away so he isn’t hit by your flailing figure. Then one more time, you’re at the highest point of the swing when your frightened flailing becomes too much and before either of you can register, you’re flying off the swing and freefalling toward the ground. 

He’s afraid to look so he turns away, but your loud crying quickly turns him back to you as the recess bell rings, signaling the end of your playtime. When he sees you on the ground, his first instinct is to run away. But then he sees you grasping your leg and crying, crying, crying.

God, you sure do cry a lot.

“Are you… are you okay?” He asks, running to kneel beside you.

You shake your head furiously, still grasping onto your ankle which burns with pain. It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt in all eight years of your life. Tears freely flow down the apples of your cheeks.

On the verge of panicking, Donghyuck tears your arm from where you’re grasping onto your leg in the moment of searing pain, and swings it over his shoulder. “Come on,” he says, as though encouraging not you, but himself. With the strength that a normal eight year old wouldn’t have, he stands and pulls you to your feet. Your eyes wince in pain as sharpness shoots up your right leg, but alongside Donghyuck, the two of you walk to the nurse’s office. 

He had lied. He said he wouldn’t push you too hard. He promised. 

Your parents had told you since you were a little kid, fibbing about whether or not you ate the last cookie in the cookie jar, that lying was bad. But that day, you find that maybe lying isn’t always bad. 

Because Donghyuck’s lie brings you a new friend. 

-

“Do you think things will change, Hyuck?”

Your sudden question causes him to open his eyes from where he lays in the grass. When he does, it’s as though the stars in the sky are reflected on his orbs. But no, that’s just your crush on your best friend making itself prevalent once again. 

“Things change everyday, Y/N.” His answer leaves you unsatisfied, so you roll your eyes, laying back down beside him in the grass. The playground is only a few feet away, but who are you to play at the park? You’re thirteen years old, for God’s sake. 

“I mean in high school. The first day of school is already next week, aren’t you worried?” You turn to him, eyebrows furrowing at his relaxed expression. 

His chapped lips purse in mild consideration, before shrugging his t-shirt clad shoulders. Carefree Donghyuck and worrisome Y/N, that’s your dynamic. 

“It’s just high school. Same people, different classes. Why are you worried?”

“It’s just—” You sigh, eyes staring up into the endless dark abyss of the sky. “Things change. People change. You’ve seen the teen movies! The childhood best friends go to high school, one of them is super smart and becomes a nerd, the other one goes and does drugs.”

All you get in response is a laugh. Donghyuck’s laughter is something you’ve become accustomed to over the years. He has the light, boisterous laughter where something is so absolutely funny that he can’t help but screech. There’s the mid-tier average laugh, which he often lets out around relatives to be polite, but it comes off a bit awkward. Finally, he has the low chuckle in his throat he does when he finds something amusing and almost pitiful—it’s almost always reserved for you. 

“We can definitely tell which one of us is which,” he jokes, which causes you to turn and slap his chest lightly, playfully. 

“Drugs are bad,” you respond gently, reeling back into your space on the grass. Hyuck doesn’t understand: he’s easygoing, an extrovert with a sunny disposition. He’ll have no problem making friends in high school. You, on the other hand, won’t have it so easy. You can’t lose your one and only best friend. Wrapping yourself in your hoodie, you sigh. Hyuck registers this pitiful sound and settles down a bit; he knows when you’re really upset about something.

Suddenly scooching closer to you on the grass, he speaks softly. “Listen.” You do. “Nothing is going to change. Not between us. Things will happen, we’ll meet people, but we’re best friends forever, okay?” Now he looks straight to you rather than the sky, and you stare back. There’s something in his eyes, determination clear as he speaks. “I promise there will come a day when we grow up and become old, that we’ll come back to this park and stargaze just like now. By then, we’ll be able to drive ourselves, and your mom won’t have to wait for us,” he says, nudging his head toward the curb where your mom sits in her car. This makes you laugh: it really is amusing, your mom waiting for the two of you. “So shut up and stop doubting.”

Hyuck knows your insecurity and that’s what makes him your best friend. Your only best friend in the whole world. Quietly you respond with a question, digging your hand out of your hoodie sweater paws. “You really promise?”

Easily does he intertwine his finger with yours before leaning back into his spot. “Do I ever break my promises?”

The answer is yes, because a month later it’s a Friday afternoon when Hyuck does just that—break his promise.

Your first month of high school wasn’t as bad as you had initially thought it would be, really. Your teachers seemed nice for the most part, and you had managed to make a friend. A real friend, other than Hyuck. His name is Mark, and you only meet him because he’s the TA for your biology class. He’s a year older and not completely comfortable speaking Korean yet, but you’ll take what you can get!

Sadly, you don’t have any classes with your best friend. You don’t even share the same lunch period, and it saddens you that you can’t pay witness to Hyuck laughing so hard to shoot carrot bits from his nose anymore. He made friends in his classes though, and tells you about them. Most of them are upperclassmen… it’s not a surprise that your outgoing friend would be so compatible with older kids. So, you don’t get to see him that often. But that’s what the time outside of school is spent for: your best friend. 

The two of you are supposed to meet at the park like you normally do on Fridays. It’s not a long walk from your school, and you’re halfway there when your phone vibrates in your pocket. Fishing it out, your eyes focus on the message lit on the screen. 

[ Hyuckie ] : Jaehyun hyung invited me to hang out with the guys at his house. Sorry! Next week, I promise.

You sigh. 

It’s not the first time he’s rainchecked you for that group of rambunctious older boys. The first week of school, you were supposed to get ice cream when he suddenly pulled up with those guys in tow. Just last weekend, he had promised to take you roller skating for your birthday, only to cancel when you already had your shoes on. 

It’s like he has no time for you anymore.

So with a bitter huff, you send a passive-aggressive response and turn on your heels, trudging the rest of the way home. 

-

When the bell rings, you slip your airpods into your ears and put your hood on. Finally, the day is over. Sadly, it’s only Tuesday so you still have a ways to go before the weekend.

Music rings in your ears as you tread down the halls of your high school, hands tucked into your hoodie pocket. It’s quite hot outside, winter transforming into the buds of spring. Spring and the oncoming heat make it more difficult for you to limit your fashion to hoodies.

When you push open the front building doors, the heat hits you, but you immediately walk toward a little shaded area under a tree near the courtyard. It’s where you always wait for him after school. 

As you make your way there, the group of boys leaning against the wall don’t fail to catch your attention. With their brightly coloured hair and dark shaded eyes, it’s hard to miss them.

You have to reject the urge to visibly scoff at their appearance—they don’t even go here anymore, having graduated years ago. Why do they still show up here and hang around like they own the place? 

Even if they left the school a while back, they still have a vivid reputation at the school. Though you had never paid attention, there are a few you know. Taeyong, presumably the oldest with his bright red hair and clouded gaze. Johnny, who had quickly been recruited into this group of delinquents upon his transfer from Chicago. Among them are others who you don’t care at all about.

Though their gazes follow you as you walk directly across their line of sight, you ignore them and retreat to your spot. Flopping down, your bottom meets the grass and you lean your head back against the tree. Closing your eyes, music fills your ears as your eyes meet darkness. For a moment, it’s as though you can shut out the world and simply relish in your own company. 

High school hasn’t changed you much, but the people around you have changed. 

The moment passes soon enough, as you feel a light slap on your thigh causing you to open your eyes. Your gaze lands on the sight of your best friend, who plops down beside you. A gleeful smile spreads across your face as you take your airpod out. 

“Mark,” you tsk. “You’re late.” 

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though a smile rests on his face. “Mr. Moon wanted to talk to me about something.”

“What about?” 

“Auditioning for the talent show.” You blink, your eyes widening a bit at his revelation. Mr. Moon runs the talent show every year; if Mark had caught his eye, there would be no doubt that he would get in, and maybe even win the show.

“Really? You should!”

“I don’t know,” he says, pursing his lips in thought. “Honestly I don’t think I’d be good enough.”

“Shut up, you will. Besides, it’s your last year, you’ll never know what could have been if you never try.” The thought sobers you a bit: because Mark is a year older than you, his senior year will soon be coming to an end. The idea of spending your final year without your best friend saddens you. 

Speaking of what could have been, the same time that Mark shows up, someone else also makes an appearance. 

Fleetingly your eyes flicker over the group in the corner. Lee Donghyuck joins the group, his purple hair falling over his eyes as he lets his backpack fall to the floor. You watch, lips pursed as Taeyong hands him a joint, then you turn away. 

He doesn’t call himself Donghyuck anymore. Or Hyuck, or your best friend. He’s Haechan now. 

“Hello, earth to Y/N,” Mark’s voice rings in your ear. 

Shaking your head to rid your thoughts of what could have been, you look to your best friend. Black hair is more appropriate than purple, you decide then. “Hm?”

“I was telling you that I’m leaving, but you zoned out.” You know he has his job, shifting through vinyls at the record store, in twenty minutes. Slowly, you bob your head in a nod. 

“Okay… Have fun at work.” 

“I will. I work for the rest of the week but we’ll hang out this weekend, okay?” You nod in response. He’s been a bit busy recently, but you don’t worry too much about it. “Promise.”

Your smile must visibly falter a bit, even though you try not to let it show. Mark’s eyes immediately widen slightly—sometimes he forgets how you dislike promises. How they give you a sense of false hope, and how you’d rather not give them space in your heart to do so. “Sorry,” he sounds. He stands and places a hand on your shoulder with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you.” 

Then he leaves, and you pop your music back into your ear. With a soft sigh you look out at the courtyard, at the students leaving and cars moving. Will there ever be anything more than this? You take in the sight: the students running across the yard to their friends, the school doors opening and closing, even the group of boys racketing in the corner of your vision. 

Hyuck—or Haechan as he now calls himself, though you find the name to be dumb and pretentious—is the youngest of them all. It all started in freshman year, when he met them and the distance between the two of you grew. His promises had worn thin, and eventually the string of friendship between you ripped apart right before your eyes. You can’t say that you miss him. 

Because you don’t miss Haechan, the replacement for the boy you once knew. You miss Hyuck. 

Your best friend who snuck over to your house on his bike when you had gotten rejected by Huang Renjun. The person you could always trust to push you on the swings and know your limits. 

But that’s not him anymore. 

The thought puts a sour taste on your tongue so you turn your eyes away from the cloud surrounding them and close your eyes. You don’t need him anymore. All you need is the music in your ears and the warm sun soaking into your skin. 

You’re not sure how many minutes pass, but suddenly the warmth disappears from your skin. Your eyes slide open and there he is, casting a shadow over you. The sun is gone, only cold filling your veins at the sight of the long-legged memory before you and the smell of weed filling your nose. You take your airpods out of your ears, sighing. 

Your voice comes out harsher than you intend. “What do you want, Haechan?”

Your use of his name must catch him off guard. You’ve never called him that—even when you drifted apart, like lonely boats without anchors, you always called him Hyuck in your sweetest tone. Now all you reserve for him is indifference. 

“Haechan?”

“That’s your name isn’t it?” 

He blinks, eyes fluttering underneath his lavender fringes. “Oh—” Sheepishly, he nods. It’s unlike the normal persona he employs when walking around school. That Haechan is cocky, flirtatious. “It is.”

You’re not entirely sure what it is that ticks you off. Not him, but the memory of him. “I don’t want any weed, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Haechan has the nerve to scoff. “No, that’s not what I’m asking.” You raise your eyebrow at him; he had left you in the dust when he decided to become one with those drug-doing law-breaking fools, yet he has the audacity to stand in front of you now. He takes a deep breath, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark ripped jeans, which definitely don’t fit the school dress code. “I want to ask if you want to hang out?” 

“Hang out,” you repeat, eyebrow raised. You could almost scoff from how ridiculous it sounds. 

“Yeah.” He nods. His eyes are big, almost sheepish, and for a second he looks like your old Donghyuck. Behind the chains, the hair dye, the eyeliner, and the weed scent, you wonder if he still is. “I promised you I’d take you skating, remember?” 

“No, I don’t,” you lie curtly, rising to your feet. Skating, that was over three years ago. It’s upsetting, but something in the way he still remembers this broken promise pushes you to say your next words. “Fine.”

As though he hadn’t expected you to acquiesce so easily, he nods. “How about Saturday? I’ll pick you up at your house? You… you still live in the same place, right?” It’s both humorous and painful that he has to ask. 

“Mhm.” You sling your backpack over your shoulder and stare at him. “6PM. Don’t be late. And leave the weed at home. You stink.” 

With that, you turn on your heels and make your way home. Behind you, you can hear the group of rambunctious boys yelling, congratulating their youngest. 

-

Saturday comes quicker than normal, and it’s nearing five when you’re still not dressed for your meeting with Haechan. 

If it were four years ago, you would have thrown on a t-shirt and called it that. If you were hanging out with Mark, it would have been easy to just put on a hoodie and jeans. But something is different now. 

Why are you nervous? You ask yourself as you stand before the mirror.

It’s not… a date, but something in you wants to dress up, to look nice. But why? You don’t own many fashionable items, and it’s not a date. You hold back a self-deprecating groan as you darken your lashes with mascara and slather some lip gloss over your lips. He doesn’t deserve it. 

You had expected him to come to your door, but when Haechan pulls up to your house in his very own car, all he does is text you. You had deleted his number years ago. Had he kept your’s all this time? Is your contact name still the same? 

Fluttering down the stairs in a pair of jeans and a nicer t-shirt, you have to stop to remind yourself not to get caught up in the moment. This isn’t a date. 

“You drive now,” is your first comment as you slip into the passenger seat. 

The air is dank, reminiscent of a clear weed smell but it’s masked, as though someone had tried to get rid of it. “You look nice,” he says. 

All you say is, “Thanks,” then retire yourself to looking out the window. He drives you to the roller rink, the familiar streets sliding by. The ride is quiet, awkward. Four years ago, the two of you would have been chattering away. 

By the time he pulls into the parking lot, you’re reconsidering why you even agreed to coming here with him. After he parks, you step out and walk ahead toward the entrance of the roller rink. He jogs to catch up with you, and it’s the first time you get a good look at his outfit. 

He dons a blue flannel over a white t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. A chain hangs from his belt hook, and another by his neck. His hair is done up, unlike the purple fringe he wore over his eyes earlier in the week. The old Hyuck you knew was a fashion disaster. 

“What’s up?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets again as the two of you fall into the line. You need something to do with your hands, and suddenly you regret attempting to dress nice; your hoodie was a lot more comfortable.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask suddenly, turning to him. 

“I told you,” Haechan responds. “I wanted to hang out. And I made a promise to you that I’d take you skating for your birthday, but I didn’t. I just want to lighten my conscience a bit.”

A laugh almost leaves your lips at this. His conscience?

“Does your conscience ignore the weed and loitering?” 

“Loitering? When do I loiter?”

“No, not you.” You shake your head, correcting him. “Your friends. They don’t even go to school anymore, why are they always around? Waiting for you?”

He blinks, then shakes his head. “Taeyong and Doyoung hyung are helping Mr. Moon coordinate the talent show. They have meetings with him after school. Jaehyun hyung teaches a piano class after school and Johnny tags along.”

Somehow, his answers shock you. It’s hard to picture his “friends” helping out at the school. You don’t respond, and clearly he’s less happy than you to talk about his friends because he follows his words with, “Can we not talk about them? I wanted to catch up with you, not talk more about them.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble half-heartedly as you approach the booth, grabbing your size in the roller skates. Then, you search for a spot to sit down and put them on. For a few moments before Haechan joins you with his own skates, you think to yourself, is he sincere? He keeps saying it, and you want to believe it. Does your old Hyuck, your best friend exist somewhere in there? 

Haechan approaches you, his skates in hand. You’re focused on tying your own, but you manage to scoot over on the bench you’re in to make room for him to sit as well.

But he surprises you. 

He kneels, placing his skates on the ground and before you know it, your fingers on the laces are replaced by his as he ties them into a tight knot. You look up to him, but all your eyes fall on is his face, tightened in focused concentration. “What are you…” You start. 

When he finishes tying the last lace into a tight bow, he looks up to meet your eyes. “You should tie them tight. Your laces used to always fall out when we were younger.” Then the corner of his lip tips up into a smile, and you can swear your heart races. 

It beats out of your chest and you’re suddenly vividly aware of the fact that his face is mere inches away from yours. 

But as quickly as the realization hits you, the moment is over. 

He pulls away, taking the seat next to you before putting on his own skates. When he finishes, he pulls you up by the hand to the skating area and you let him. Your legs are a little shaky, but he looks over to you with careful eyes. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

It’s not a promise, but it feels like one. Maybe, you decide, it’s okay to let down your walls and be with him. After all, he was, once upon a time, your best friend. 

As much as you want to pull away from him, your legs are sliding, about to give out. You grip onto his arm with both hands, trying to keep your balance, and his hearty laugh is heard in your ear. In the midst of his laugh and your attempt to stand straight, your hand slides down to grasp his instead. 

By the time you realize this, you’re already sliding halfway across the rink with gentle hesitant laughs on your lips. This is the first time you’ve talked to Donghyuck in years, yet it feels, you realize as your gaze down at your connected hands, as if you’d never stopped. 

A couple hours later when you’ve both had more pizza than your stomachs can hold and both your knees are starting to bruise from how you’ve slipped onto them, Donghyuck brings you somewhere else. 

Despite the curtain of dark over the town, you know where he’s taken you the moment he pulls into the street. 

When he parks and you slide your feet out of the car to meet the grass, you look around and take in the appearance of this old place which hasn’t felt your presence in years. Your old park. Everything still looks the same, as if your late night stargazing sessions had never halted. 

You’re still gazing when Donghyuck pulls you by the hand to the playground. “Come on,” he ushers.

“Hyuck, aren’t you a little old for the playground?” You question, not recognizing your slip. 

He stops walking altogether and blinks at you, the light of the moon reflecting off his sparkling orbs. “You… You called me Hyuck.”

You hadn’t even noticed it yourself. Pursing your lips, you respond carefully. “Well… it is your name, isn’t it?” Somehow, your gaze finds your interlaced hands. By the time you look back up, you realize Donghyuck was also staring. 

A soft smile graces the tips of his lips. “Yeah, it is.”

For a moment, a short moment, Haechan is forgotten. All that exists at the park with you is Donghyuck, your best friend since age eight when he had pushed you too hard on the swings and caused you to fracture your ankle. You had always blamed it on him in the following years, but it was never his fault. 

It was always yours, for not being brave enough. 

Even now, Hyuck pushes you on the swings after you give him a pointed look which clearly says, “Not too hard.” The force of his push reminds you how big of a role adrenaline once played in your life. Hyuck was your daily dose of adrenaline, of energy you never knew was missing from your life until it was gone. Now, he’s back again. 

After a few minutes, the two of you find yourself lying on the grass gazing up at the stars, in a similar situation that your younger selves once experienced. You’re content to sit there staring at the glistening firmament above, but his velvet voice fills the silence between you. 

“Is Mark a good best friend?” 

His question catches you off guard. It could be a trick of your mind but is that… jealousy you hear in his tone? “Yeah, he is.” You nod, the cold breeze brushing your face. “He’s nice. Understanding… I’m just not looking forward to having to spend the next year without him after he graduates.”

“You don’t have to,” Hyuck replies quickly. You turn to meet his gaze, and find that he’s gazing at you with serious eyes. “You can spend it with me.”

The thought, however hopeful, causes a twinge of doubt to ignite within you. “What about the others?”

“What about them?” 

“Are they good best friends?”

Like you, Hyuck takes a long moment to ponder over his answer. “They’re not my best friends,” he finally says when he comes to a conclusion. “They were always just placeholders. Just… people to spend time with.” 

“Spend time as in vandalizing, smoking weed, and skipping school?”

He releases a scoff at your response, as though the idea sounded absurd to him as well. “Well… yeah. I guess that’s what it seems like.” You’ve never been the type to do those kinds of things, always too afraid of losing your self control for even a moment, so you ask: “What’s it like? Smoking weed?” 

Your inquiry seems to throw him for a loop. You had always been quiet, comfortable living in a box which you knew to be safe. It was always him who had wanted to explore. He turns away from you and instead throws his gaze to the dark sky, though you remain watching him and the way the grass brushes his side profile from where he lays. 

“It’s like… searching for something. You don’t quite know what you’re looking for. I don’t know—Nirvana, epiphanies, the meaning of life, or whatever. And for a second,” he pauses, his eyes matching the twinkle of the stars in the sky, but it’s a somber reflection. “When you reach that high, it’s… it’s amazing. It really is. You feel… calm. And relaxed, a bunch of things I’ve never felt before. But when you get used to it, and you come down from that high… it just feels… empty.”

Emptiness isn’t something you’d ever think Hyuck has experienced. In your memories he was always so bright-eyed and lighthearted, filling you up with everything you needed. Had you forgotten how to fill him up? Make him happy? Or, your hopeful heart suddenly asks, are you the emptiness in his heart? When he left you, was that when his heart had begun to feel hollow, as yours had? When had things changed so much, when had the two of you grown up? It seems just like yesterday that you were two little kids with hopes bigger than the world could hold, still playing on the playground. 

Suddenly you lurch toward him, closing the space between you to lay shoulder to shoulder. The simple brush of your shoulder on his, a feeling that was once so familiar, speaks volumes to the both of you. “I wish things could go back to the way they were before.”

He sighs, a sound that’s supposed to somehow indicate that your words are easier said than done. “If only life was that easy.”

A thoughtful moment of silence passes over the two of you, the cold night air brushing on your bare arms. Your hoodies often kept you warm, but you don’t have them now. Instead, you have Donghyuck. “Are you cold?” He asks as he notices you shivering at a sudden strong gust of wind. You shake your head, not wanting him to give his flannel to you, but he does something else instead. “C’mere,” is all he says as he scoops you into his arms on the ground and presses your head into his chest. 

You start to argue at first but you soon find yourself resting your head on the expanse of his chest. Eyes widened ever so slightly as you try to maintain the erratic beat of your heart, you whine quietly, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We used to do this all the time.”

“Yeah,” you scoff gently with a roll of your eyes. “When we were ten and forgot our jackets.”

“Not much difference,” Hyuck responds. Suddenly a teasing tone occupies his voice, almost reminiscent of Haechan’s persona. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

You have the decency to be shocked, hitting his chest softly, playfully. “As if.” 

He says things aren’t much different, but they are. Back then, things were simpler and easier. Your best friend was just your best friend. But now, seven years later, he’s a boy and an attractive one—that much you can admit. And, you have a history that makes your heart wrench; you had come to terms with the fact that you would no longer be able to envelope yourself in Hyuck’s bear hugs anymore, that sleepovers with him would be further nonexistent. 

Hyuck doesn’t say anything after your hasty response, and it seems like he’s satisfied sitting in the silence with you, but you aren’t. Gently you speak up, “Hyuck.”

“Hmm,” he responds, eyes closed rather than gazing at the star-stricken sky.

“What’s your dream?”

He takes a moment to think about it. A couple seconds pass with his eyes still closed, and you turn your head to gaze up at his contemplative expression with tufts of dark grass tickling his ears. A couple minutes pass like this.

You’re almost convinced he’s fallen asleep right there, so you prod once again. “So?”

Hyuck takes a deep breath. “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know? Everyone has a dream,” your brows furrow. 

The next words to leave your best friend’s mouth sadden you to no end. His voice is soft but his tone is tired, as if he has all but given up. “I think somewhere along the line I stopped dreaming, wishing for things. It’s not the reality I’ve grown to know.”

-

By the end of the night, when the two of you arrive at your home, you’re starting to believe that a reconciliation with your best friend is possible. All these years, they were just… a break. A time for the two of you to learn yourselves and meet new people. 

As he walks you to your front door, swinging your interlaced pinkies between the two of you, you speak first. The night, however sudden and strange, was nice. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” he quickly replies as he turns to face you though he doesn’t let go of your hand, your pinkies hooked around each other like a little unsaid pledge. 

“I really missed you,” you confess. Before tonight you had never allowed yourself to consider how much you missed your best friend, how his absence left a gap in your life. “I want to do it again sometime.”

Hyuck’s eyes widen just a bit, and he blinks as though surprised. “You do?”

Giddily you bite down on your lower lip and nod. “I really do.”

His shocked eyes soften like sweet yellow honey, and he mirrors your smile. Here with the front porch light shining on his tanned skin and some lingering grass strands tangled in his hair, he doesn’t look like the cruel Haechan you’ve seen over your time in high school. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Why are you saying thank you?” you ask, a slight smile on your lips. “It should be me saying thank you.”

“I’m just glad you came along,” he explains, tapping his foot gently against the cement. “Taeyong would have gotten me in trouble if I hadn’t asked you to come.”

You blink. What?

“I’m just really glad you agreed to go out with me today. Even though I had no choice, I think it was really good for us, and I’d love to do it a—”

“Hyuck.”

He stops suddenly, having begun to ramble, and stares at you. “What?”

Anxiety begins to creep into your stomach, building a dark heavy pit. As your breath quickens, coming to your realization, you fall into the dark abyss of that hole. You tear your gaze away from him, your eyebrows forming a tight line as the gears in your head turn. 

As he recognizes the way your chest starts to rise and fall rapidly, Hyuck leans toward you. “Y/N, are you—”

“What do you mean, you had no choice?”

“You’re shaking, you should go inside—”

You tear your hand from his, trying your best to control your accelerated breathing. Finally looking back at him, you feel despair begin to bubble inside you. “What the hell do you mean, you had no choice, Donghyuck?”

The look on his face is almost dumbstruck. He opens his mouth but no words come out. He closes it quickly, then parts his lips again after a moment. “I… I thought you knew…”

“Knew what?”

“That Taeyong hyung made me do it.”

If it’s possible for your entire world to crash in the fraction of a moment, it must be this. Suddenly your lungs feel heavy with burden and your eyes water, watching your ill-fated hope shatter before you. You want to scream at him, to yell at him, but you can’t find your voice. By your side, your hand which was once occupied by his, feels awfully, horribly cold. 

Hyuck, on the other hand, still looks stupefied that you had no idea. Stuttering over his words, uncharacteristic of him, he continues desperately. “I-I… They know about us, about our friendship, and Taeyong hyung told me to ask you on a date or…or he’d make me deliver his next package. I already got caught once, I couldn’t get caught again! I couldn’t risk it,” he pleads.

Weed. That’s what this is all about. 

“It was just for fun, they thought it was funny.”

Your throat feels dry, parched like the desert, and your voice feels like sandpaper as you speak. “I didn’t think it was funny.” A lonesome tear breaks the barrier, sliding down your cheek pitifully before being followed by another.

Clearly startled by the course of the conversation, he desperately reaches out to grab your hand. “Y/N, please let me explain—”

You whip your hand back, his touch making your skin crawl with betrayal. 

“You’ve done enough.” 

Of all the things he could say, he says the worst. “I thought you heard everything that day, in the courtyard.”

“I…” You start thinking back foggily. “I had my airpods on.” The pained look he wears at his realization of this would have been laughable if your tears weren’t threatening to flow down your cheeks.

All you want to do is run. Run inside, run away from him, run from this night and pretend that nothing had ever happened. But for some reason, your feet are stuck to the cement as though something holds you down. Burden-like weights, holding you down.

“I, I’m sorry,” he beseeches, only making it worse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

You want to yell at him, to curse him into the next life for playing with you. For not knowing your character enough to think that for even a second, you’d be okay being a pawn in his game of dealing and dares. For giving you hope, even the slightest burning sliver. But you can’t raise your voice at him. Rather than fury, it’s sadness which erupts in your chest. You cannot find it in yourself to scream. Because he did, he did hurt you.

This must be the emptiness he was talking about. 

Any sense of blankness you thought you knew before was nothing to this. As if your heart and mind itself have been ripped out of you, you’re overcome by a horrible, horrible hollowness. Then, looking at his pitiful figure, you realize that you want nothing to do with Lee Donghyuck any longer. Whoever he is, good or bad, best friend or stranger, Haechan or Hyuck, he is no longer important to you. 

Wiping your tears against the back of your hand with an indignant sniffle, you scowl at him, but there is no anger, no resentment. Just exhaustion. You’re tired of his lies. 

“Leave me alone, Haechan. Leave me alone, and don’t ever bother me again. I can’t believe I—” You stop yourself. You can’t believe you had believed, even for the shortest moment, that things would be okay. No, not with him, nothing would ever be okay. Nothing would ever be true, nothing would ever be pure. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how close you were to falling into him. 

All you do is stare once more at his cowardly figure then turn away, hiding your tears which you refuse to let him see. Just as you’re about to turn to disappear into your house however, he reaches for your wrist.

“Y/N, please—”

“Don’t,” you say softly. If he truly is your best friend, if he had ever known you for even a second, he would be able to recognize the pain in your voice, the fragility with which you’re about to break. 

But if he was ever your best friend, by now you can never truly know. 

For a third and final time, you tug your hand from his touch. “Don’t. I mean it.”

Then you disappear into your home, flying up the stairs to the confusion of your parents, and leave Donghyuck there alone, stranded and in the dark. 

-

There was a reason why you never liked parties growing up, and why you tried avoiding them at all cost, but today is different. Today is for Mark, you have to suck it up and enjoy yourself at least for him. Besides, since hitting twenty three you’ve been trying to “adult” more, and that means putting other people’s desires before your own.

You’re sitting on a couch in the bar, clutching a water bottle when you hear Mark’s voice in your ear. “Hey, you made it!”

Immediately you turn and feel your lips spread into a wide smile at the sight of your best friend looking completely ecstatic. Standing quickly, you collapse into his open arms. He pulls you tightly into a hug and you smile feeling his familiar embrace.

“Hey, you,” you say when you pull away. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you, really.”

The beaming smile he wears back at you makes your heart warm. “Thanks, and thanks for coming! I thought you weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

“I cleared my schedule for you,” you admit cheekily. 

“Aw, I must be so special,” responds Mark playfully, pulling you in for another quick hug. Mark has just been signed onto a record company as a producer. It’s only his biggest dream ever, and you couldn’t be prouder. His record label had insisted on throwing a party to welcome their newest hire, and from the smile on his face, it seemed like all his dreams had come true. 

“But enough about me, how are you?” 

With your busy post-college schedule, you’ve had little time to meet your best friend. “Just the usual. Work, eat, sleep.” 

“Hey, at least you sleep, I’m up all night, every night working on music.”

“I believe that was your career choice,” you laugh and roll your eyes. 

Mark laughs along with you. “I guess you’re right.” He suddenly eyes the water bottle in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re not drinking at my party.”

“I—”

“No excuses! It’s a Saturday night, don’t say you have work tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Sounds like an excuse, you better go to the bar right now and get a drink.”

“I’m—”

“Now!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” You finally acquiesce, rolling your eyes at your friend’s behavior. “Do you want me to grab you something?”

He ponders it momentarily, sitting down in the spot on the couch you occupied earlier. “Just one of what you’re getting,” he says, already making conversation with the other person on the couch, one of his new coworkers. 

You make your way over to the bar counter, basically shoving past the numerous people occupying the bar. With the prestige of the company that Mark has just been hired into, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were brushing shoulders with celebrities in your search for the bar.

When you finally find a spot at the crowded counter, you attempt to speak over the music to one of the two bartenders maintaining the counter. Flashing your ID at him, you sound, “Two Negronis, one with light ice!” You’re in the mood for gin tonight. You would have gotten your typical gin on the rocks, but you’re feeling a bit fancy and with the open bar, you’re fine not paying for the extra pizazz of a Negroni.

The one you originally speak to seems occupied but he hears you, nodding at you. As you pull out your phone to wait for your order, you register him calling out to someone, likely the other bartender with him. “Take care of that,” he says, likely referring to your order. 

Only a few moments pass of you attempting to type out a text until you hear it.

Though it’s not loud, you hear it. Above the music, above the crowd. 

“Y/N?”

Eyes leaving your phone screen, you find yourself face to face, eye to eye, with Lee Donghyuck himself. In front of you on the other side of the bar counter, clad in a dark apron and clutching a tall bottle of gin, with his light brain hair, tendrils falling over his eyes, it’s almost like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him. Your gaze hasn’t fallen on him in years, not since graduation, watching him walk across the stage. Your jaw visibly tightens.

“Y/N, is that really you?”

“Who else would it be,” you joke tightly, deciding momentarily to play nice for now. 

The laugh he shares is almost believable. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s you. It’s been…”

“Five years,” you finish for him. 

Astounded, all he does is nod. “Yeah…”

The last thing you want to do is sit here and take part in a tired conversation with Donghyuck of all people, so you make a show of pointing your attention to your phone as you type a couple text messages. He seems to get the hint, and busies himself making your drinks. 

Despite the buzzing bar environment around the two of you, there’s no doubt of the tension in the air. The last time you had spoken to Donghyuck, you had demanded that he leave you alone. For the most part, he had complied. But now, five years later, you have to ask yourself, have you forgiven him? 

In the past years since your final falling out you’ve somehow learned to manage the emptiness that sprung inside you, yet now seeing him, you feel something other than hollowness, a swallow feeling in your chest. Are you… ready?

Within minutes he slides two glasses across the counter to you, red liquid occupying its volume. As you tuck your phone away into your purse and reach out to grab your two drinks, it’s clear to you that he has something more to say from the way his eyes linger on the glasses.

“What?” You ask.

“Are you…” He starts, eyebrows furrowing as he suddenly pauses, as though thinking over his words. “You got two glasses. Are you… here with someone?”

He’s curious if you’ve found someone. If you’ve brought them here and if they’ve managed to replace the empty space in your heart once occupied by him. You purse your lips, offering a tight smile as you shake your head. “No, one of these is for Mark.” 

You’re unsure if the look on his face at your answer is a relieved one, but you’re sure it won’t bring about good things. “Oh,” he says. “That’s… interesting.” What is that supposed to mean? You have no idea, but when you’re about to turn and make your way back to your friend who is surely waiting for you, he speaks up again. “I have my break in thirty minutes. Can we… talk maybe?”

Talk. He wants to talk, but at this point you’ve learned that accepting any offer from Donghyuck will only lead to trouble. What is there to talk about? Will he apologize? You’ve already told him that you don’t want his apologies. Will he try to fix things? Regardless you’re sure that whatever it is, he will attempt to make his way back into your life, your life that you had worked so hard to create without him. 

Every atom, every part of you screams at you to reject him. 

But perhaps it’s the heavy feeling in your chest that tells you to say yes. You have unsaid words, words you have held within you for years, and now you might finally have the courage to say them. 

Cautiously, you nod. “Fine. Thirty minutes?” 

He’s visibly relieved at your easy agreement, and bobs his head in response. “Thirty minutes.”

Because you’re made uncomfortable by his gaze you feel the need to thank him for the drinks in your hands. With a slight gulp you hold the glasses up in a slight gesture. “Thank you for the drinks… Haechan.” His name feels foreign on your tongue.

“Oh, it’s just Donghyuck now. I stopped going by that name a long time ago.”

-

Over the following thirty minutes, barely sipping on your drink, you try to recollect all you’ve ever felt about Lee Donghyuck.

Once upon a time, he was your playground buddy. Pushing you on the swing high above the play area, he showed you the most thrill an eight year old could have. His excitement did lead to your broken ankle of course, but he had carried your backpack for eight weeks after that. 

For many years he was the person you considered to be your best friend. The only person you could trust to share secrets with, like how your first kiss was with Huang Renjun of all people and how you were still, after all these years, afraid of the heights that came along with flying high on the swings.

In high school he was almost an enemy to you, someone you disregarded. Someone you had no respect for, with his smoking habits and dyed neon purple hair. 

Then, for the shortest moment so fleeting it felt like a blink of an eye, he was someone you wanted. Someone you desired, someone you could have seen a future with not as a best friend but as a… partner. Laying there in the wet grass beneath the stars with your head on his chest and his voice in your ears, you could have accepted him. Could have forgiven all the distance between you and made it work. Could have become one again. 

Then in the moment of truth all you could remember was anger and the pain of the betrayal. At that moment you were set on cutting Donghyuck out of your life. You could no longer take his lies, his habit of coming and going as he pleased. You cut him off.

But that didn’t mean he no longer occupied your thoughts. 

Now, standing in front of him in a private room somewhere in the bar, you realize you no longer have anger for him. He is just someone who has hurt you, someone who is part of your past. From the way he gazes at you, he wants you in his future. 

You’ve long since graduated from your hoodies and leggings. Now you don a dress, comfortable but also dressy enough for the occasion. But just because you’ve grown doesn’t mean you want him to watch you the way he does. 

“You look nice,” he starts. Familiarity rings in your mind, and you purse your lips slightly. 

“You always say that.” 

“Because it’s true,” retorts Donghyuck quickly. 

“Sometimes it’d be nice to hear a compliment not involving my appearance from you,” you respond almost a bit too harshly. 

Taking the loud hint, he quiets and doesn’t continue the topic. Instead he asks, “How are you?”

Unable to control the lilted chuckle that leaves your lips, you raise an eyebrow at him. “That’s what you brought me here for?” There’s no hostility in your tone, yet he winces. 

“Well, uh… yeah. I just—we haven’t talked since—”

“Since you broke my heart?”

This seems to be news to him, because his eyes widen ever so slightly, outlined slightly in dark kohl that seems reminiscent of your high school days. “I broke your heart?” 

He didn’t know. It’s almost laughable and you could almost be upset at him for not knowing just how strong of an effect he’s had on your entire life, if not for the fact that he looks absolutely pitiful, staring with wide eyes at the damage he’s done. You gulp, and nod tightly. “Yeah, you did.” After a moment, you add, “Tore it to pieces.”

A timeline of silence persists, before he speaks, voice low. “I’m sorry.”

He even sounds it, and from the way he looks, still clad in his apron and standing straight in front of you whilst you’re leaning on the wall, you could believe it. But at this point you’ve learned better than to believe anything that comes out of his mouth. Has he matured? Perhaps, but something tells you that he’s still the same kid you’ve known since the time before you could do long division. 

Yet despite this, perhaps to settle the disruptive fire in your heart that has been burning, aching since the moment you turned your back on him, you nod. “I forgive you.” 

Still, you continue with a scoff. “You didn’t even know. Didn’t even know that every single relationship, every promise, every smile from anyone since I’ve met you, I’ve had to reconsider. You didn’t even know, probably still don’t, how hard it is to trust someone, anyone. You were my best friend, Hyuck, and you betrayed me. How was that supposed to make me feel? Especially when you didn’t even come find me after that? You just… expected to just get away with it? You thought it’d be easy to just leave and never say anything, never apologize?”

He simply stands there, eyes trained to the ground in what seems to be shame as he takes in your words. You’re not done. 

“And to think, I almost thought that things could go back to normal, that we could be friends again. Maybe…” You catch yourself on your words. You had never admitted them out loud. “Maybe even—even…”

His eyes move up to meet yours.

“Maybe even more,” you finally release in a breath. 

“More?” The familiar emotion of surprise flashes over his dark ochre stained eyes. “You… you wanted to be with me?” 

The truth is, yes. You did. In some way, perhaps you still do. You’ve always wanted him, you’ve always been ready to freefall into him at any moment. But he doesn’t deserve it. 

“I really wanted to. But clearly that’s not possible at this point.” 

“No—” He runs a ring adorned hand through his dark locks, a contrast from the neon purple you associated with him. Other things you associate with him—sadness, betrayal, lies, yet still stars in a night sky. “Y/N, I… I love you. I’ve always loved you. I meant it when I said you were my only best friend, you’re the only one. Not Taeyong, or Johnny, or Jaehyun, or anyone. It’s always been you.” 

He… loved you. 

It hits you like a truck because as much as he claims it, he has a horrible way of showing it. “Don’t lie to me.” 

“I’m not lying, fuck—I swear. I know I was a horrible friend, and I know I hurt you. Y/N, please, please listen to me. Please believe me.” Suddenly he’s grasping at your hands, beseeching you with pleading eyes. “I’m different, I promise. I’m not that old me, I’m better. I can be better.” 

You rip your hands from his grasp. 

“I said don’t lie to me! I told you to stop making promises you can’t keep. You’re doing it again, just like always did. You had your chance, and you lost it. You lost me, Hyuck, it’s over.” He stares at you with widened eyes at your sudden outburst, his brows and lips downturned in an expression of sadness. “I was always willing to make things better, I was ready to take you back the moment you stepped in front of me that day at school and forced me to go on a date with you. I never stopped loving you, and you never stopped being my favorite person, Hyuck. But this—” you say, gesturing to the two of you. “—was doomed from the start.”

You sigh, but this time you calm yourself with a breath and grab at his hands, though you had pulled away from him earlier. “It could have been, you and me. We could have been the perfect trope of childhood best friends who fall in love and spend the rest of their lives together, but that was clearly always out of the question for us. And it’s okay, Hyuck. It’s okay. It’s okay that we’ve grown apart, and that you’ve hurt me more times than I can count, and that we won’t be able to fulfill that fantasy. It’s okay, it really is. Please, just… accept it.” 

The way he stares at you, the passion that he holds in his eyes causes a yearning feeling to infiltrate your heart. Yet your mind is clear enough for you to discern it’s not him that you miss, it’s the simpler times with him that you long for. 

His eyes are pleading when he finally opens his mouth to respond. “You’ve called me Hyuck four times now. That leads me to think that it’s possible. We’re possible, Y/N…”

“I called you that because it’s your name,” you tell him softly, eyes moving down to where your hands are comfortingly rubbing small circles on his skin. He still has the most rough, callused hands you’ve ever felt in your life. “And because I’m going to choose to remember you as Hyuck, my best friend. Not Donghyuck, the kid who pushed me off the swings. Not Haechan, the boy who hurt me. Just Hyuck, my best friend who… made me happy for a really long time, and who will always,” you say with a slight squeeze to his hands. “Always be special to me.”

His eyes are soft as you look back up to find him. “Y/N…”

“I’ve got to go,” you tell him with a small smile. Finally, everything you’ve needed to say for years has been said. 

The tears which layer upon his eyes are evident to the both of you, though you choose not to comment on it. You’re his best friend, and you’re about to walk out of his life. The last thing you offer is a comforting squeeze to his hands before you tear away from him, making your way to the door. 

“Y/N.”

You stop, not saying anything before his voice pervades through the silence of the room, despite the raucous party outside. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” 

This time, you really believe him.

-

You slide the key into the keyhole and unlock the door, twisting the doorknob as you step into your apartment. To no surprise, it’s dark and empty. With a sigh leaving your throat, you slip in and slide off your shoes. 

As you make your way through the apartment you flick on the lights you pass to observe your home, before clicking them off to immerse yourself in the temporary darkness again. In the hallway, books and various clutter have been arranged carefully on the shelves. Entering the living room, you take note of the way the couch cushions have been straightened and a folded blanket rests neatly on one of the lounge chairs, awaiting your arrival. A quick glance to the kitchen tells you that the floor’s been mopped and the dishes put away. 

A small smile pervades across your face. 

Finally, the bedroom. 

Your calm, harmonious smile remains present on your face as you slip into the walk in closet, allowing the fabric of your dress to slide off your figure. Instead, you reach for your pajama bottoms and a thin tank top. 

After brushing your teeth and clearing your visage of any remaining makeup, you peel off the blanket and glide into the space between the comforter and the mattress. Finally, you’re home. 

You’re closing your eyes, ready to fall asleep with a newfound peace, when a hand slides around your waist. Your smile grows wider as you turn in your spot to meet the sleepy face of your fiance, Jaemin. 

“Hey,” he hums tiredly. 

“Hey. Sorry for waking you,” you respond lightly, pressing a kiss to his nose. 

A small shake of his head and a smile is all that’s needed to settle your guilt of waking him. “It’s okay,” he says while pulling you closer to him, gathering you into his chest. 

“You cleaned the apartment,” you muse in amazement at him. 

The sound which comes out of him is both smug and proud. “I did. And did you have fun?”

You nod. “I did.” 

“How was it?” 

“It was nice. I… I met Donghyuck.”

This piques his interest. “Oh? Your best friend from high school who broke your heart?”

A pitiful laugh leaves your chest, and you nod once more. “Yeah, that one.” 

“Mm, how was that? Do I need to go punch someone, teach him a lesson?” His words intend to sound menacing, but the fatigue in his tone only makes you chuckle. 

“No, honey, it’s okay really. I… I told him how I feel.” 

“How’d he take it?” He asks, resting his chin upon the crown of your head. He’s more than knowledgeable about your heart wrenching past toward your friend.

“It was difficult for the both of us but I think everything’s okay. Finally.”

You don’t have to look, but you know he’s smiling. 

Where Hyuck is a dark night sky of stars, signifying all the possibilities of the universe, Jaemin is the dawn; the sun reappearing after an arduous night to bring you hope. Where Hyuck is a world of lies, Jaemin is your truth. 

He had struggled for many years to make you see, to make you forget the scars that your time with Hyuck had inflicted on your heart. Though you had worried for many years that you were unlovable, Jaemin taught you the opposite. 

He is the truth, he is all that’s good, and he is yours. 

“Yeah, finally. I’m proud of you, honey. Can we sleep now?”

A laugh leaves your lips, and you nod. “Yeah, go back to sleep, love. Goodnight.” With this, he presses a kiss to your forehead. This small touch, the slightest brush of his lips over your skin, causes a world of love and emotion to erupt within your chest. 

So, you say proudly, “I love you.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, replying within a second. “I love you too, with everything I am.”

With your entire heart, you believe him. You have no reason to doubt him. 

He is your last and final truth. 

[literaryfic]

singer!cha-young & violinist!vincenzo au pt.2

park ju-hyung is abandoned in a South Korean orphanage when he’s 7.

he gets adopted by an Italian couple, the Rossis, who want nothing more than to be parents. they’re older, but kind and patient with him. he misses his mom at first, has a hard time adapting to Italy, the language, the food, the people. everything is new and scary. but they’re here every step of the way, consoling him after a nightmare, holding his hand through a difficult night. 

ju-hyung is nothing if not resourceful and intelligent, and he works hard to become vincenzo rossi. he learns Italian quickly, eager for people, for his new family, to accept him. he wants to make sure to become the perfect son, a child no one would think to abandon. 

his adoptive parents sign him up for violin classes when he’s eight. they’re big classical music fans and they want to share their passion with him. he loves the way they look at him when he plays, they seem proud. so he tries hard.

turns out vincenzo is exceptionally good at violin. so much that people start calling him a prodigy. by the time he’s 10, the Cassano Fondation notices him and they become his patrons. he gets homeschooled, but really he just has private tutoring after his day-long violin lessons.

he spends his days at the Fondation, surrounded by teachers, coaches, older students. he’s the youngest there, and he doesn’t get much interactions with people his age. he doesn’t mind, he’s not very social anyway. he might be young but he understands the disdain in some adults’ eyes, he hears the slurs they direct at him from their children’s mouths.

his only friend is Luca, the son of his parent’s cleaner. he’s two years younger than him, immature and childish, the way a kid their age should be, but vincenzo doesn’t mind. he likes playing catch with him when no one’s looking (“be careful not to hurt your hands, vinny. a musician’s hands are just as important as his heart.”, his father had said.) . he likes how carefree and bright Luca looks when he’s playing with his little cars. they hang out on sundays, the only afternoon where vincenzo doesn’t have lessons.

of course, he wins every competition he enters. his audition tapes are played to students 5 years older than him. people gather at the windows of his private classroom at the Fondation.

when he’s 15, he’s getting ready to start his career as a soloist when his adoptive parents die tragically in a car crash. his parents, the people who’d wanted him when no one else did, had left him. he’d been abandoned once again, twice an orphan.

everything happens so fast. he inherits his family’s massive fortune, and Fabio’s the Fondation head, decides to adopt him. he becomes vincenzo cassano. in 15 years, he’s had three different names, three different identities. he doesn’t know who he is, really, but he knows what he can do: play the violin.

and he does, and he takes the classical world by storm, a sensation unlike anything they’ve seen before. he’s praised for his technicality as much as his interpretation, his performance skills mature beyond his young age.

what they don’t see is him rehearsing ten hours a day for years, without a break. vincenzo cassano doesn’t do days off, apparently. he loses himself in his music, in his art, lets it consume him so that ju-hyung, vincenzo

he travels the world, plays in a different country almost every month. he doesn’t have to think about who he is and where he belongs when he plays, he can just focus on the notes, on the emotions the pieces he plays evoke. 

some might think that vincenzo loved his career as a world class violinist because he was considered one of the best to ever play, a genius admired by all and a forgotten by none. others might believe he simply loved music. they’d be all wrong. he couldn’t care less about fame, recognition and glory. vincenzo played the violin because for a short moment, when he stood on stage, he disappeared. all eyes might have been on him, but vincenzo felt invisible, the music he created hiding him from the world. 

at 33, he’s accomplished everything there is to accomplish, played with every orchestra, every conductor, has interpreted every piece. he’s released 6 albums, two of them winning a Grammy for Best Classical Music Album, has one three Grammy’s for Best Classical Instrumental Solo and is the best paid soloist on the circuit. 

vincenzo cassano is tired, drained and empty. he’s given everything he had to give, and music isn’t enough anymore. he wants to live a life away from people now, on his own. but first, there is something he needs to do: find his biological mother. 

he had started therapy a year ago, not by choice. luca and his agent, mateo, all but forced him to go. “it’ll do you some good to talk about what goes on in there. there’s no shame in going.”, luca had tried. “if you don’t go, i’m cancelling all your performances for the next year.”, mateo had had the last word. 

he had discussed his adoption and the anger he arbored towards his biological mother with his therapist, and had concluded that he should try to have some closure. he needed to know why she left him, what made her decide he wasn’t good enough. six months ago, he’d hired a private investigator based in Seoul to search for her. a month later, he had a name and an address. Geumga community center, where she apparently teaches the violin. 

after he learns that his biological mom is a violin teacher, vincenzo feels sick every time picks up his instrument. he’s forced to stop playing, to stop performing, to stop disappearing. anger runs in his veins, underneath the surface, threatening to erupt at any time. 

“Vincenzo Cassano announces retirement from the music scene, world mourns his absence already” “Vincenzo Cassano is retiring because of mental health issues, insiders reveal” “Is Vincenzo Cassano retiring because he’s not the best anymore?” 

he flies out to Seoul on a whim, without telling his team or Luca. he books a 5-star hotel a few subway stations from the community center. he’s given himself a week. a week to confront his mother, to close this chapter. 

he never makes it to the community center. instead he walks around Seoul, head low. people recognise him, which he didn’t expect. although he feels no particular attachment to his motherland, South Koreans are very fond of him. how could they not, when one of their compatriots is the best violinist in the world? over the years he’s had a few interviews in South Korea and has donated to some local charities. although most of it was orchestrated by his management team, people seemed to love him and his name meant something here. 

the closer he gets to going to his mother’s workplace is a small restaurant right in front of the community center. he’s not used to korean food anymore, but he enjoys it. the place is empty until one man, probably around 55 years old, sits right in front of him. “a bottle of makgeolli, please!” he asks the owner. 

“can i help you?” vincenzo says, surprised someone would dare to sit at a stranger’s table. “mmh. why have you been hovering past the Geumga community center for a week?” 

“hovering?”, vincenzo scoffs, “i don’t think this is any of your business, sir.” 

“it is since i work there. are you ms.oh’s long lost son or something?” vincenzo spits out his water. 

[ncitygirls]

together - mark lee x gn reader

fluff, college au

“uh, do you want a drink?” he calls from the other room. it’s muffled by brick and mortar but he still prays you didn’t hear his confidence wane towards the end. ‘why didn’t i ask when i was in there?’ he huffs before he pops his head round the corner, calming at the sight of your smiling face. “water, tea, beer-”

“beer.” you rush, cutting him off. mark just nods, grinning at your embarrassment. “thank you.”

“no worries.”

he can feel his cheeks are warm. he ignores it. instead he busies himself with getting your drink, uming and ahing about getting you a glass when he remembers your lip gloss. it glistened as you spoke, almost blinding him when combined with your pearlescent smile. he’d like to keep it intact. if only he had straws.

he returns to find you eyeing his i.t set up. random notes and post-its pasted around the monitor. he hands you a bottle when you thank him and ask, “is this all for class?”

he cringes at the mess, but settles at the hints of wonder in your gaze. the genuine interest. “ah, no- it’s all for when i part time as tech support.” he mentioned it briefly before. it was sometime between your first and second date. it’s how he can afford to live alone.

“i didn’t realise it was this involved,” you hum. a second inquiry falling from your lips before you can help it. “is that why you’re always so busy?”

“uh- yeah,” he mumbles, hand scratching his neck as he takes a long swig. he’d had to reschedule this date twice. the first time he’d forgotten about his engineering group project session that couldn’t be rearranged. he did consider skipping it before realising jungwoo would probably bite one, if not both, of his kneecaps off. the second time, a guy from work had begged him to switch shifts. both times he had jaemin help plan an extravagant night out. he had money set aside for the whole affair, an outfit, a proper plan to wine and dine you. but his colleague was sick and mark has always had a hard time saying no. “sorry about cancelling again last week. i just got really busy all of a sudden with class and work and- yeah. i know you probably expected more than just hanging out at mine.”

“just hanging out is fine.” mark doesn’t think he’s seen more honest eyes in his life. it’s one of the first things he noticed about you. how round and alert they were, and you. you noticed things about him no one else did. like how his hair parts differently when he’s washed it. how his brows crease when he’s thinking too hard. how content he is just hanging out at home. “i know you don’t get a lot of downtime and i just wanted to spend time with you. i don’t mind where.”

you can see he wants to say something. he begs himself to say anything. instead he just stares at you, a wistful smile on his face. to think he could’ve been doing this weeks ago if life hadn’t gotten in the way. when you tilt your head, he shakes his head, a silent answer to your silent question. “do you want to play scrabble?”

your obvious answer had been yes. you beat mark two games out of three. mark had sworn up and down that his win after the fourth beer renders your first two wins null. you neglect to inform him that you let him win the third time. all in all, it’s exactly how time spent with mark always is. perfect. once the nerves fade away, being with mark is like being with an old friend. one who knows and accepts every part of you. the shrill screech in your cackle. the scars lining your knuckles. the wrinkles framing your grin. and yet, being with mark still feels brand new. be it his shy smile everytime he makes you laugh. the pads of his fingers brushing over the back of your hand. his eyes lingering on your bitten lips.

you’re both about six beers in at this point, but it’s a comfortable drunk. one that allows you both to keep your wits about you, while also numbing the earlier nerves, replacing it with a gentle buzz while filling you with determination.

“so why computer science?” you ask as your laughter dies down, his own still clutching at his abdomen. you couldn’t remember what it was you’d both been laughing at, you just know it made your belly hurt. and that was enough. “i feel like you’re feeding into the peter parker fantasy.”

“you know, i don’t go a week without hearing that from the guys since you said it.” he adds, scowling at you.

“i mean,” you start, tilting your head as he blinks at you. after the fourth game, you both found your way to his couch. he has his feet propped up on the coffee table with the board as you sit cross legged to his right, your fingers gently fiddling with his. mark ignores the sparks passing from his digits, all the way up his arm. instead he focuses on your next words. “i’m still kinda shocked they never thought of it too.”

“really?” he asks, laughing when you nod. “if you say so.”

“well, if they decide they want a korean-canadian spiderman, you’d be doing the world an incredible disservice saying no.” he cackles again at the vim in your voice, gazing back at you incredulously. “i’m serious! plus you’re cute, and that never hurts anyone’s chances.”

“really?” he asks again, a bit breathless this time. as you nod, he slips his hand into yours, relinquishing you of your play thing by pressing your palms together. “who does that make you then?”

“me?” he nods. “i’m just me.” you laugh when he frowns suddenly, disagreement ready on his tongue. “what?”

“you could be gwen.”

“gwen dies.”

“oh. what about m.j then?”

“i think m.j dies too.”

“fine,” he huffs, grinning at your chortle. “well if you’re you, then i’m me.”

“fine.” you agree, gazing sweetly at him. “then what does that make us?”

us. you and he. y/n and mark. mark and y/n. he’s wondered that too. he regrets having left so much time between dates, his schedule never allowing him the time to even think about the two of you as one. he has just enough time to think about you alone. but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about where this could go. where this was going. where this had gone.

“i guess it makes us together.”

“okay,” you say simply, as if he hadn’t just made you his. but more importantly, mark thinks, is that he’d made himself yours. “so that means you’re mine?” he nods firmly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. his teeth catch his lip when your gaze drops. he feels his hand clamming up in your grip. you don’t falter, you only squeeze tighter. “good.”

“good?”

“mhm,” you hum, rising on your knees. “it means i can do this,” you breathe before your lips press to his cheek, lingering for a second before leaning back. you bite back a smirk as his breaths falter, his hand squeezing yours a touch harder. “and this,” you breathe in sudden realisation, your lips pressing to the corner of his mouth. without thinking his do the same, puckering as your lips just miss his. when you retreat, you find his hooded eyes on you. his gaze is a mix of desire and duress, your blatant teasing rendering him near powerless. yet he sits, waits patiently as you have your fun. when you move your hand once holding his to his cheek, fingers tucking his hair behind his ear, you feel his hand loosely grip your thigh, holding you there. you have no intention of leaving, no desire to disappear, nor retreat. but the sudden pressure of his touch has you rising. mark barely allows your lips yo pucker when he leans in, meeting you a good two-thirds of the way as he closes the space.

his lips move with yours like they were made for this. not kissing, but kissing you. mark moves his lips against yours with zero haste but absolute urgency. mark feels himself making up for the lost time. the weeks he has spent in your absence, his insistence on perfecting himself and every moment in your company. he resents every lost opportunity that delayed his moment but appreciates it all the same. because even if he can’t admit it, the anticipation has made this all the more better. every slide of your tongue and press of your lips. every panted breath and nibble on his lip. maybe you just needed to be together. maybe that was enough.

“you can do anything,” the reminder tumbles out of his mouth and into yours, as he reclaims what’s left of his autonomy. “i’m yours.”

“and i’m yours.” and with that, a fifth wall came down as you fell into him, your unfamiliarity vanishing as you closed the sliver of space between you. mark was no longer a maybe, no longer a daydream, he was it. you hadn’t fully figured out what about mark made you swoon so much. the way he laughed with his whole body, or went ruby from some light teasing. how he empathised so wholly, or worked so passionately. maybe it’s because mark never did anything half way. he wanted everything in his life to feel purposeful, loved and complete. much like you made him feel. so maybe it was all those things that made you fall for mark.

maybe it was all those things together.

[basicallywhiterice]

across the world (lucas wong, dong sicheng/winwin)

pairing: lucas x reader, sicheng/winwin x reader

genre: angst, fluff, flangst. friends to lovers, college!au, dancer!sicheng, relationships and heartbreak

summary:  You always thought a piece of your heart would belong to Sicheng, your first love, who ended things when he moved overseas. In the end, though, there’s nothing across the world except for a boy you used to know.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cussing

a/n: see y’all next month for the last part, feel free to yell at me so i finish writing it sooner (p.s. peep the hamilton reference)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

this can be read as a standalone, but is part 2 in the on top of the world series. crossposted on ao3 here!

CHARLOTTE, NC

Charlotte Douglas International Airport, 1:42 p.m.

“Is this goodbye?” Sicheng murmurs, hugging you tighter. You strain to hear him amidst the hustle and bustle of the airport.

“I guess it is.” He’s leaving for Korea, pursuing his ambitious dance dreams. You’re staying in the states and starting college soon. There’s no time for an international relationship in either of your lives.

It’s cruel, you think, that the heartbreak from your first love will have been so worth it, that you’d have to live through the “right person, wrong time” so soon.

You nod, once. “Ah. Well. Bye.”

“We’re really over? We’re—officially breaking up?”

The words cut like a knife, but you try to stay strong for Sicheng’s sake. “Yeah,” is all you can manage without breaking down. “I guess we are.”

“Okay.”

So this is how it ends, you think. “Go and conquer the dance world.”

“I will. I—I really love you. I’m gonna miss you.”

“I love you too, Sicheng. You should go.”

“Ok.” He hoists up his backpack and raises his suitcase handle. “I—goodbye.”

“Bye.”

He starts toward the security line after some initial hesitation, flanked by his parents on either side. Trailing behind right before stopping, he turns back one last time, waving a final farewell.

After he’s gone, Lucas pats you on the back, Giselle hugs you tighter, and Ningning lets you cry into her shoulder. It helps, and it just barely holds you together as your world falls apart.

Home, 11:49 a.m.

You feel hollow.

Exactly six weeks before you leave for college, Sicheng does a routine call in the sliver of free time he has, sandwiched between his classes for the day. You’re still struggling through your acceptance of the change that was bound to happen, spending your days with your friends while you still have time. Though you’ve thrown yourself into living without him, seeing his face feels like a punch in the gut.

Even though he’s across the world, you let yourself forget for a moment, but you can’t pretend any longer when he hangs up.

Today was supposed to be your three month anniversary.

You turn down Yangyang’s invitation to skateboard and cry into your pillow.

Today was supposed to be your three month anniversary, but all you’re left with is a broken heart that Sicheng still holds.

ATLANTA, GA, FRESHMAN YEAR

Turman Hall, 11 a.m.

“Hey. How’d you like your first week?”

You spit out your toothpaste, holding up a finger and motioning for him to wait as you rinse.

“It was okay,” you say. “I haven’t really made new friends yet. I’ve, uh, hung out with a few people though, and Lucas and Giselle are in some of my classes.” Some water droplets spray out from a splash of water, and you wince a little at how low the dorm’s sinks are.

“Have you talked to the people on your floor?”

“Yeah, they’re cool. I’m pretty happy here, I think I just need more time to get to know people better,” you shrug. “Anyways. How are you?”

“It’s going pretty well. Someone from New York joined earlier this week, so she’s kind of in the same boat as me, except she’s Korean.” He’s about to continue when he yawns, words growing incomprehensible.

“You should sleep soon. When are you getting up tomorrow?”

“Late enough. I probably should, though.”

“Then why’d you call? Go to sleep, Sicheng.”

“I wanted to see you, is that really a crime?” He yawns again. “Well then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You know you’ll only get hurt in the long run, but that doesn’t stop you from texting him to set up another time to call once you know he’s asleep.

Turman Hall, 12:15 p.m.

Sicheng cancels a Facetime he scheduled earlier in the week, too tired to call after a grueling practice. It’s the first time he’s done so, and you knew he was going to get too busy for you eventually, but it still breaks your heart.

You’re staring at your laptop when a tidal wave of loneliness pulls you under. You miss Sicheng, but you also miss the rest of your high school friends, your parents, and the simplicity of life before college.

Just as you’re about to text him, Lucas calls you.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Yooo,” he greets. “Are you still coming to the student center?”

“Yeah, I was about to head out. Why’d you call?”

“You weren’t responding.”

You pause, a wave of tears suddenly welling up. “Thank you, Lucas,” you say, voice steady enough to avoid suspicion. “I’ll be there in 10.”

“Yeah, see you then.”

The loneliness doesn’t fade, but it doesn’t weigh as heavily anymore.

Turman Hall, 7:14 p.m.

You’re pulling on your shoes, about to head out to meet with Winter at a nearby restaurant, when Sicheng calls you. After a bit of hesitation, you reason it won’t take long and pick up.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Sicheng says, hair sweaty and face shining. “I’m on break right now. How are you?”

“I’m doing alright. Why’d you call?” you ask. He almost never calls during his breaks. “Isn’t it busy there?”

“I felt lonely,” he says, and you’re not sure why it hurts to hear that was the only reason. “Is anything interesting happening?”

“Uh.” It’s been a while since he last called, and you forget what you’ve told him already. “Well, Karina’s been encouraging me to rush next semester. I’m not sure if I want to do it, though.”

“That sounds really fun. You could meet some new people there.”

“Yeah, but it seems really time consuming, and I’ve made friends already. I just—”

“If you want to try it, I don’t see why not.”

“Yes, I just don’t know if I can handle it on top of my classes.”

“You need to decide what you want,” he says, and you blink, startled by his sudden outburst. Your first instinct is to apologize, but you have nothing to be sorry for, and you wonder if something major or stressful happened recently.

“I have been,” you mumble, trying not to sound defensive. “I declared my major last week, the joint bachelor’s and master’s thing here. I talked to my advisor about it and I’m trying to graduate in four years. I have a plan.”

“Oh.” He pauses, head tilting. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I wanted to tell you over call.”

“Ah. You should’ve said something.”

You just shrug, wanting to move on. “I’m excited. How are you, though? Why are you feeling lonely?” You know it’s pointless to ask when he only has a few minutes of free time, but you still want to give him an option to answer.

“I’m alright, getting busier now but—”

The door opens behind him, a dancer clad in black clothing walking on screen. They speak a string of Korean to which Sicheng nods, standing up and stretching his legs.

“Sorry, break’s up,” he says, face coming back into the frame as he bends down to pick up his phone. “Text you later?”

You’ve gotten used to it by now. “Okay. Good luck. Bye.”

His face is replaced first with your text history, and next with a black screen. You stare at it, wondering if he even loved you in the first place.

You don’t decide on an answer during the 15 minute walk to dinner, but when you meet Winter there, you find that there are better ways to fill your time.

Turman Hall, 11:15 p.m.

Your hands shake as you press the FaceTime button under Sicheng’s contact. As your phone rings, you set it down to wipe your palms on your pants.

After tonight, you’ve decided to cut Sicheng out of your life. The timing is less than ideal, but with exams just completed and an abundance of time to reflect, it’s the best you can do. All you want is one final call with him, and you’ll rip off the bandaid.

Sicheng answers quickly. He’s sitting at his desk, a pillow propped up between him and his chair. “Hey,” he says, waving. An easy smile hangs from his face, and he looks the most relaxed he’s been in months.

“Hey,” you breathe. “How are you?”

He eats lunch as you talk, almost making you regret your decision to distance yourself. Your resolve never crumbles like you thought it would, though, and you think your conviction signals the point of no return.

Tonight, you hang up first. It feels like you can breathe again when you press the ‘end call’ button, but your heart crushes under the weight of your lungs.

Turman Hall, 11:57 p.m.

“I’m moving on,” you say, resting your elbows on the windowsill and looking up toward the looming night sky. The moon hangs high above, its gentle glow drawing out everything you’ve been bottling up.

“I can’t wait for him to come back when he’s happy without me,” you tell the moon. “I need to live my life without him. Otherwise, it’s not fair to me, or him, or anyone who cares about me.”

A tear traces its way down your face, plopping down onto the ledge. “I used to love him. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away, but I know that someday, I’ll be able to look back at it as something in the past.”

The stars wink back at you, silently, and you wonder if the moon ever gets tired of orbiting the Earth.

CHARLOTTE, NC

Home, 7:09 p.m.

Sicheng texts you every day during the first week of winter break. Each time, you ignore him for hours before responding, and it feels horrible, but there’s no other way around it.

Today’s texts come when you’re sitting in your room with Giselle and Kun, waiting for the sugar cookie dough to chill in the fridge. He asks how you are, if you want to call in the pocket of free time he has right now and tell him more about your future plans. You stare at the messages on your lockscreen, waiting for your phone to turn off before limply tossing it on your bed.

“What’s going on?” Giselle asks eventually, pulling you out of your reverie.

“What?”

“Y/n,” she says, scooting closer. You look up from the miniature Christmas tree nestled in your lap, having fiddled with its flimsy branches to distract yourself from replying. “What’s wrong? Talk to us, we’re here for you.”

You glance over at Kun. “I can tell the rest of them not to come because Giselle and I got food poisoning or something, if you need to vent to us.” He pulls his phone out, ready to text Yangyang, Lucas, and Ningning at a moment’s notice.

You wonder how long they’ve known, even when you kept quiet and tried to shoulder your pain alone. Your phone’s ringing saves you from answering immediately, lighting up with an incoming Facetime from Sicheng, and it hurts not to pick up, but it would hurt even more if you did.

“He said he has 20 minutes to call,” you relay to Kun and Giselle dully, your cover blown. They share a sideways glance, but neither of them say anything. “Should I? I don’t even know if I want to talk to him, but y’all probably haven’t called him in a while.”

“Don’t think of us, think of what you want,” Giselle urges.

You nod, reaching for the phone again. It’s still ringing when you silence it, throwing it back on the bed.

“Yeah. That’s what I want.” And then you fall over onto Giselle’s lap, desperately wishing for the pain to end, and she holds you as you sob for the first time in a week. “He’s—it’s—different now, and—s’okay, b-but it’s…” you choke out before you start hiccuping.

The room is quiet as you cry, only the sounds of sniffling and gentle consoling present, as you shed a semester’s worth of tears. You start talking once you’re coherent enough, putting your heart on full display, and it’s cathartic. It’s cathartic to ugly cry, to retell your love story to two friends who love you deeply, to release of all the hurt and longing you’ve been holding onto just to remember how you and Sicheng were.

And when you’re done, letting go gives more room for hope to come in.

ATLANTA, GA

Waffle House, 1:01 a.m.

“What do you mean, of course you were gonna get a bid, you idiot,” you exclaim around a bite of waffles. “I can’t believe you’re a frat boy now.”

“I was worried! I thought that one dude hated me, remember?” Lucas grins. “And don’t worry, I’m not an official frat boy yet.”

“Don’t fucking get hazed when you pledge.”

He raises his hands, still holding a syrup-covered pancake piece speared onto his fork. “I won’t. Don’t fall into the whole ‘frat boys are dumb’ thing on me, now, I know how to look after myself.”

“I’m not, I’m just worried,” you sigh. “Just—stay safe, y’know?”

“Aw, you do care after all.”

“Shut up before I make you pay for your pancakes.”

He doesn’t shut up. “Anyways, enough about me. You don’t have to, uh, say anything, but are you—are you doing okay?”

You can’t tell if he’s talking about Sicheng or life in general, but you offer an honest answer to both. You’ll find out which one he’s referring to soon enough. “I’m doing better.”

“I can tell.”

You stare at him for a second too long, the harsh fluorescent lights glaring down, and you think that maybe Sicheng came into your life at exactly the right time.

Three truths arise at the exact same time: You don’t love Sicheng anymore. You’re happier without him. And you see the light at the end of the tunnel, the day quickly approaching when you are perfectly satisfied with what was, and have no grieving for what could have been.

Clairmont Road, 6:08 p.m.

When it arrives, it’s any other spring day. You’re sitting at a bus stop, scrolling through social media, helping Winter finalize the Airbnb booking for your upcoming spring break trip, and discussing your summer internship applications with Ten at the same time, when Giselle scrolls back up your feed.

“Isn’t that… Sicheng? He went viral?”

“Hm?” You glance down at a dance trend, the dancer vibing onscreen alongside a popular filter. Then your eyes land on the several hundred thousand likes beneath the video. “That’s him?” you finally realize. You haven’t kept up with his dance account in a few months, and it seems like you’ve missed out on a lot.

“Oh my god, he made it, didn’t he?”

“Holy shit. All because of a TikTok dance? That’s insane.”

You call Lucas over, and the three of you rewatch the video.

As you watch, you wait for your expression to fall again, for your heart to drop and your stomach to twist when you think about him, but nothing happens. And as you feel nothing but happiness for his success, the last scratch on your heart heals itself, and you smile.

Then the epiphany hits you: you and Sicheng may never talk, meet, or be okay with each other again, but it doesn’t matter. It hasn’t mattered for a while, not when your heart is bursting with love for your own life and stays silent for a boy who was once in it.

He’s in his own world—leaving you happier now that you’re done learning what you needed to from him, wiser and more content—and you’re in your own, taking over the world with only those you choose to share it with.

It’s solitary on top of the world, but it will never be lonely, not when you fight for everything you want and hold the people you love close to your heart.

You let go of Sicheng a long time ago.

ATLANTA, GA, SOPHOMORE YEAR

The Quad, 7:30 p.m.

The day Lucas asks you out is the day the flowers outside your window start to bloom.

“I really like you,” he says, his beaming expression matching yours, “and I was wondering if you’d like to go out? On a date with me?”

He’s awkward, but carries himself with confidence. His fidgeting hands give away the nervousness he tries to hide, but his grin catches your attention. There’s a lot of things you like about him, but you think his smile might be one of your favorites.

“I would love to.”

Main Street, 8:15 p.m.

By the time your three month anniversary with Lucas rolls around, you’ve started bringing down your heart’s defenses already. There’s no reason to keep them up: he doesn’t make you cry when you worry about the future, is never gone for long enough to make your heart ache. He’s safe, and you want to stop keeping him at arm’s distance.

And you’ll be okay. You’ve lived through one heartbreak already and emerged stronger than ever. And if your vulnerability with Lucas means it will heighten your next heartbreak, then it’ll be worth it a million times over.

You hand parts of your heart for him to hold, dropping your defenses day by day. This is the point of no return, and you choose to walk past it with Lucas by your side.

ATLANTA, GA, JUNIOR YEAR

The Quad, 10:22 p.m.

“I’m in love with you,” Lucas confesses. Grinning from ear to ear, he swings your clasped hands together, practically restraining himself from skipping down the park path. Your hand slips an inch before he catches it, oblivious to the sweat coating your palms inside your gloves.

The right words never come, and slowly, the smile melts off his face. “Baby?”

Your throat constricts as you swallow hard around your dry tongue.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it before you were comfortable, I…”

“Lucas.” Pausing, you bring a shaky fist up to your mouth, covering the lower half of your face as you stall for time. “I… don’t know.”

Your hand slips out of his. “Oh.”

“Lucas, I love you very much. But there’s a difference. I… don’t know if I’m in love with you.” He stares at you, expression tight, and your stomach turns. “This doesn’t mean no. I really don’t know, but I do know that you make me happy. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I thought I had been clear in how I felt.”

You wince, slightly. “I’m—”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” He swallows. “Can we please go back to the dorms? I’m not mad, and I don’t want you to feel bad, but I really need to be alone right now.”

“Can we work this out first?” you ask, panic settling into your voice.

“I don’t know if we can do that right now.” “Have—have you been open with me? About how you feel these past few months?”

“Can we at least try? I—” Your voice breaks, and you clench your jaw to ground yourself before continuing. “Of course I’ve been open. I made the choice to communicate everything I felt, I overcame my fear of heartbreak. Just because I’m not sure if I’m in love with you yet doesn’t mean I haven’t tried and cared.”

“I don’t—can we please go back? I need some time alone.”

“You can’t just walk away like that,” you say, voice shaking. “You—you’re not trying to solve this together.”

“I don’t know,” he says, and it hurts to hear when it’s all he says, but not as much as it hurt you to say.

“Lucas,” you say, and it feels horrible pleading for him to listen. “Please work this out with me. Show me that you’re choosing me, too.”

He stares at you, motionless. Your worry compounds when he stays there, heart ripping apart at the seams as you resign yourself to the fact that this is the beginning of the end. Jaw clenching, you let your tears trickle down your face, the frigid wind sending pricks of coldness down your face.

Then he steps closer, blurry silhouette growing bigger. You furiously wipe away your tears, wool gloves scratching at your cheeks, to get a good look at his expression, when he hesitantly reaches up for your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he says, slowly lowering your joined hands. “I know you’re hurt. I need you to trust me when I need some time to process this, and I know you want to work on this together, but I need to be alone first. Would you be okay with going back to your dorm, but staying in different rooms for a while so that I can still be close to you?”

It’s not okay—not if he’s giving up on solving it together. “You get the bathroom.”

“Deal.”

You don’t get the chance to tell him that night, for you fall asleep before he talks to you again.

His absence speaks for itself, and you think this might be the point of no return.

Woodruff Hall, 12:12 a.m.

Lucas gives up over winter break, and you want to blame him, but you’re too busy blaming yourself for breaking up with him to be angry.

“Why?” he demands, gaze cold. You look away.

“You knew this was coming,”

“You were the one who talked about choosing each other and working on our relationship.”

And you were the one who gave up first, you think, but you’re too tired to be bitter. “Lucas, I don’t think you can change my mind at this point.”

“Are you—is it because I’m in love with you?”

“Lucas, please, just go.”

“Did you ever love me?” You hate that you can’t comfort him the first time he cries in front of you.

“We can talk about this later, but please, I need to be alone right now.”

You start sobbing the moment he walks out the door.

The Quad, 11:32 p.m.

Were you in love with him?

Woodruff Hall, 1:57 a.m.

You were not in love with him.

Woodruff Hall, 11:29 a.m.

When Sicheng Facetimes you for the second time this year, you’re not expecting it. You certainly aren’t expecting the news he drops.

“You’re dating someone?” you ask as he blushes.

For a horrible moment, all you can think is what if what if what if before you blink, and then your guilt over your past evaporates.

“That’s awesome. What are they like?”

“She’s really cool. She joined the studio a year after I did and we started talking recently. It’s going really well.”

“I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Me too,” he grins. “How are you, though? Anything interesting happen?”

“Nah, I’m just pretty stressed,” you half-fib. “Just—life, you know?”

“I see. How are you and Lucas?”

A cross between a laugh and a sob rips out of your throat unexpectedly. “We—we broke up earlier this month.”

Sicheng goes still. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“He—it’s—I’ll be okay. I trust myself enough to end up okay,” you babble. “It’s chill. It’ll be chill eventually.”

“Things will get better,” he agrees, “but you shouldn’t ignore how you feel right now. Are you alright? Wanna talk about it?”

You tell him an abridged version, one that’s probably still too personal for him, and he consoles you the best he can.

You still feel the finality when he hangs up, though, the sense of obligation he felt to inform you of his girlfriend obvious from the start. It’s an unspoken agreement that neither one of you will contact the other so as not to intrude on his new relationship, and you imagine it’ll be the last time he calls you this year.

And you’re okay with that—have been okay with it for years by now. Sicheng’s gone, not the one that got away, and you feel a deep peace settle in your bones.

One day, you’ll feel the same about Lucas, too, and that victory carries you through the week.

ATLANTA, GA, SENIOR YEAR

Oxford Road, 4:28 p.m.

“Hi, Lucas.”

He looks up from his laptop, pulling his textbook from the cafe table to make more room for you. “Hey, it’s good to see you again.”

The awkwardness you’ve been preparing for in your meeting never comes. “You too,” you say, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing really well. How ‘bout you?”

“Me too. I’m glad you’re doing good. How’d that internship go, by the way?”

“Oh my god, it went great,” he recounts. “Ten told you how he was interning under a different department, right? And that he worked on the floor above mine?”

“He did. Did y’all see each other often? He didn’t really mention a lot other than how he got wasted with you.”

“Yeah. He’s less of a lightweight now, did you know? Anyways, I shared an apartment with a few guys, and one of them was from his hometown, and he was doing analytics as well and he mentioned that he had interned with you last summer. Do you remember a Hendery?”

“I remember him! Does he still have a bunch of questionable ties?”

“So many. We got him a Shrek tie that Ten ended up picking, and he wore it on the last day, it was great.”

You and Lucas are okay again.

You only realize that you never ordered a drink by the time you head out.

Executive Park, 10:42 p.m.

Sicheng calls for the first time in a year right when Winter leaves your college apartment for the last time. It’s not the last time you’ll see her before you move out, but it brings about a sense of finality.

“Hello?” you ask after a moment of silence.

“You’re still going to school in LA next year, right?”

“Hello?” Winter glances over, one hand on your doorknob, and you shake her head. Covering your phone, you mouth “I’m fine.” She doesn’t look convinced, but closes the door behind her anyways.

“Please,” he says, and his sense of urgency grabs your attention. “I’ll explain, but I need to know.”

“Yeah, I am. Why? What’s happening?”

“So. I might be moving there to teach at a dance studio.”

“You’re moving back?” you press. “Why? When? Which studio?”

“Millennium, sometime in the fall,” he says, loud chatter on his end briefly drowning out his words. “Shit—I don’t have a lot of time right now, but I got confirmation that I’ll be teaching there just now, and I—I remembered you were gonna be there, and, you know? Can we talk about this sometime later? I’m at the studio right now, I just—”

“Sicheng, that’s fine,” you say when you hear the talking in the background pick up again, worried that he’s missing out on a class or practice. “I’m proud of you for making it there. We’ll talk later?”

“Thank you, yeah, we should.”

You nod, not knowing what to do. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he says, and you hang up as soon as the syllable has left his mouth.

Sicheng’s moving back. He’s moving back, a stranger behind his familiar smile, and it’s difficult to think about meeting him when you’d assumed you’d never see him again.

Against the backdrop of surprise, your curiosity stands out the most. You wonder what kind of person he grew into—wonder if he ever found something besides dance to chase, what his most recent catchphrase is, how his girlfriend is doing, if he still listens to the SoundCloud rapper after he went into pop, how often he calls his parents—and you miss the ease of being able to ask him, no sour memories to impede even the simplest of conversations.

This is the price you have to pay, you suppose, for knowing you were meant to outgrow each other.

[ichorizaki]

002. sun&moon

genre    fluff

pairing     matsukawa issei x gn!reader

warnings     none

word count     3.5k

synopsis     when he received the letter, he didn’t know how to even find you. there was no trace of you yet you lived in his mind ever since that night, until fate chances upon him with a cheeky wink.

With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.

When he saw how comfortably you dressed, as he had instructed you to, Issei couldn’t help but find you a little too adorable in the same shirt that you wore on the night when you first met. It had been a week since he had asked you out on a date. Because of schedules, you couldn’t quite agree on a date that would be perfect for the both of you. He made it up to you with walking you to and from classes, facetiming you whenever you were not in class and just learning with each other even if what was being taught were completely different. He didn’t care if you both had to push back the date for days—spending time with you, carving time out of your busy schedules were more than enough for him.

He had a morning lecture and a noon tutorial that lasted about two hours, and then he was done for the day. You, on the other hand, usually had a morning lecture and about three hours to spare before having a four-hour seminar in the afternoon that dragged on to the evening. Usually. Your excited voice was the first thing he heard in the morning through a voice message, a lazy smile growing on his face as he lay in bed, which then turned into a smile of excitement once he registered your words: your professor didn’t feel like turning up and classes were cancelled for the afternoon.

There you stood before him, hair messy but your skin glowing from a good rest. He figured you were asleep while he was in class and all the way through till an hour ago from your lack of texts. While you were clad in a pair of sweatpants and the white shirt with a faded stain from the night you met, he was dressed in a maroon henley and ripped jeans.

“Is it just me or are you dressed less comfortably than I am?” You cocked an eyebrow upward, walking towards his figure that leaned against the side of his car, phone in hand with his keyring looped through his thick pinky finger. The corner of his lips tugged upwards into a lazy smile, his head tilting to the side in amusement. “Did I miss a memo or something?”

Issei stuffs his phone into his pocket and gently kicks himself off of his car to meet you halfway. He wrapped his arms around your smaller figure as did yours around his before you cutely buried your face in his chest to inhale his scent. Your shampoo smelled like coconuts and mixed berries and he couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I just wanted you to be comfortable for our date, angel.” You looked up at him through your lashes, chin resting on his chest and his heart fluttered at how close you both were. Neither of you went beyond hugging and knuckles brushing against each other’s shyly. He winked at you and the telltale sign of a blush began creeping across your cheeks.

“Where are we headed to?”

“Anywhere you’d like to.” You let go of him, looking at him curiously. He simply shrugged before guiding you to his car. He had no time to send it in for a wash for such an impromptu date, but the interior was cleaned up and washed with the scent of his cologne to make it appear cleaner. “We knew the deepest parts of each other that night, but I wanna know the simple stuff about you. Like what’s your birthday, what’s your favourite food, what kinda stuff you look for in a potential boyfriend, and whatnot.” He opened the door for you and your lower lip was caught between your teeth in a toothy grin full of adoration.

“Right, like those and whatnot,” you echoed. He helped you into the passenger seat, making sure you were neatly tucked inside before closing the door firmly. All that he had managed to learn about taking someone out on a date were from the Korean romantic comedies that his sister made him watch with her. He just hoped that it sufficed because it was mainly clichéd tropes.

You did make him nervous. He had to mentally reprimand himself to get a grip and keep his cool when he rounded the car before getting into the driver’s seat right next to you. You had already made yourself comfortable, flip flops on the floor and your knees up to your chest and nestling in your seat. The way your skin glowed under the honey-coloured lights of the streetlamps, clear silver bleeding through and illuminating your stunning face was simply something out of a movie. You did make him nervous, but he was never going to admit it out loud.

“So,” he began, catching the faintest of a tremor in his voice. Shit. He cleared his throat while buckling himself to his seat but then noticed that you weren’t wearing the seatbelt. Naturally, he unbuckled his seatbelt before reaching over to tuck you into the seat, pressing the end into its compartment next to your waist. It was all second nature to him, which was why when he caught himself in the action, he continued and finished the job before leaning back with a bashful smile on his face. “Sorry.”

“No!” You quickly blurted out. Issei’s smile changed into an amused smirk. He watched as the pink blooms red instead across your cheeks. “I . . . ugh. Issei, you’re always making me so flustered.” You grumbled in defeat under your breath, nose upturned and head swiveling away to avoid his gaze. He was sure you were just trying to hide your blushing face.

“Aww, don’t be like that, angelface,” he cooed. “C’mon, where d’ya wanna go? McDonald’s, Yoshinoya, CoCoICHI?” The engine of his car hummed to life with the sharp turn of the key in the ignition. His eyes shifted from the rear-view and wing mirrors, checking for any pedestrians and cars. The sun had set long ago yet there were still students roaming the campus, most of them coming back from classes or making quick trips to the 7-11 down the road.

“Let’s have McDonald’s. I’m craving for some fries.” He hummed at your suggestion. “We could eat in the car—on the topmost level of a parking lot or some park, I dunno—and listen to music and watch the night sky.” His heart fluttered at your suggestion. It was his first ideal date, described by you, just as he did to you on the night you both first met. His eyes flit over to you to see you already looking back at him, a huge cheeky grin on your face as if to proudly tell him that you never forgot.

He never fought the smile that crept upon his face, lower lips caught between his teeth as he stepped on the gas pedal.

“Aww, Issei, are you smiling? Did I make Matsukawa Issei smile?” You teased, giddy giggles slipping in between your words while you pinched his arm as he drove. He rolled his eyes at your antics, shaking his head at how enthusiastic you were. Could he blame you? He was just as excited as you are—he just wasn’t so willing to express that openly. “What are the vibes for today, Sei?”

His thick dark eyebrow quirked upward at the new nickname. Sei? It was the first time he’s been given such a nickname, but he wasn’t necessarily complaining. Maybe it was in the way that you said his name that has him so intoxicated, like your voice was the only thing that was keeping him together. His stunned silence you must have mistaken for discomfort, because you were suddenly apologising for calling him Sei and that you should’ve asked first and—

“Hey,” he softly interrupted you. “You can call me Sei. You’ll be the only one calling me that.” His eyes briefly left the road to look at you and he noticed the way your lips pursed out into a cute little pout.

“Eyes on the road . . .” He ignored you, lifting his hand from the steering wheel to give you a gentle pet on the top of your head. You were so flustered that it was just too adorable!

“And today’s vibes will be decided by you, baby.”

Issei heard a tiny grumble that he couldn’t quite decipher from you. He all but chuckled gently. Tonight was going to be spectacular and it was all thanks to you. He was finally taking the person of his dreams out on a date. He knew that it probably wouldn’t be any different than that night, but he didn’t care. Time spent with you was golden and he would never take it for granted ever again.

Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine.

When you first let it slip that you had sent more than one letter, you had expected Issei to be upset. He, too, expected himself to be upset. But for some reason, as the both of you sat on the couch of your living room, he couldn’t. He should be, but he wasn’t, and it confused him, especially knowing that a number of his friends had also received the same letter.

Maybe it was your reasoning—that you fell too hard a little too fast—and he couldn’t blame you for that. He couldn’t control who you fell for, nor could he control your feelings.

The both of you had your legs tangled with each other, his slightly hairier legs that you had always insisted on shaving tickling the skin of yours. You both faced each other seated on the couch, you with a book in hand and him just mindlessly scrolling through the Netflix catalogue to see what was in store. It was the first day of spring break, the scent of freshly blooming flowers dancing in the air as were the birds and bees.

He noticed the way you avoided his gaze, chin tucked into your chest, the page that sat in between the pads of your thumb and index finger shaking ever so slightly as you ran your two fingers up and down. You were nervous. He didn’t blame you for it.

Issei swallowed a deep breath. Using your tangled feet as leverage, he pulled you towards him, your body lurching forward until you fell square into his laps. He had his eyes on your face, watching for any signs of discomfort before continuing.

“Did you kiss any of the other recipients of the letters?”

“What– no!” You fervently shook your head. His hands were firmly planted on your waist, yours on his chest and fisting at the fabric of his shirt.

“Do you love me?”

“Matsukawa Issei, of course I love you.” The fervour in your eyes, the drop in your voice and the sternness of your whisper told him that what you said was indeed true, and that was more than enough.

“You love me, and I love you. That’s enough.” The corner of his lips tugged upwards into a lazy smile. He noticed the crystalline barrier over your stunning (e/c) eyes, stray (h/c) strands framing your beautiful face. “May I kiss you?” You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut and his heart fluttered at how cute you were.

He finally presses his lips to yours and he could tell the desperation from you to tell him that you love him and nobody else. Your hands travelled up his chest and to the back of his neck, the action alone sending shivers up his spine as you toyed with his dark hair at the base of his scalp. One hand gently moved up from your waist to your jaw, gently cradling your smaller form while he leaned back against the armrest he was propped up against. His tongue swiped along your lower lip, the muscle hot and wet, and he took you by surprise by gently nibbling on it instead of letting his tongue explore your mouth before pressing another kiss to your sweet lips.

He brushed the strands of your hair away from your face when he slowly pulled away, finding pleasure in the way you chased his lips for more. Your faces were both merely inches apart, foreheads pressed against each other and hot breaths gently fanning against cheeks. The way you constantly looked at his lips longingly, tongue swiping across your own and your lips jutting out into a pout, had him wanting to kiss you again but he had to stop himself from doing so.

“My eyes are up here, angel,” he teased. The pad of his thumb and his index finger cradles your chin, gently coaxing you to look at him directly. You flushed under his gaze, squirming cutely in his laps. “Listen, I can’t control who you fell for. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous, but that’s as far as it goes, okay? You love me and I love you, and that’s all that I care about.”

You melted under his gaze, shoulders slumping. Your lips pursed together and twisted to the side, a small habit that you do whenever you realise he’s right but you can’t help but feel guilty. He smiled, hoping that you would too.

“Plus, I’ve had my fair share of crushes too, you know.” He shifted so that he was seated upright and you were still on his laps. Issei felt his cheeks and the tip of his ears flush ever so slightly, suddenly aware of the fact that your gaze was upon him, twinkling with intrigue. With the intent to make you feel better and less guilty about yourself, he told you about some of his old crushes. His first celebrity crush, his first elementary school crush, the cute barista at that café in his old neighbourhood that he only saw for a week . . he told you that your feelings for the other recipients were valid and reminded you yet again that even despite that, as long as you love him as he loves you, there’s genuinely nothing wrong with that.

With this candle, I will light your way into darkness.

When the organ sang its first note, he turned to look at you from where he stood. There you were, walking down the aisle with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Your face was obscured by a white lace veil that you insisted on wearing, the ensemble that you had on fitting your figure seamlessly. Yours was the colour of pure white, detailed with lace and gold, and it matched his own suit of white, his tie a satiny gold and his collars sporting lace.

Issei couldn’t help the tears from falling, teeth digging into the flesh of his lower lip as he watched you walk slowly, the heels of your chosen shoes clicking against the thinly carpeted marble tiles. His tears clouded his vision, a stunning vibrato of colours as the music filled his ears. He still couldn’t believe that you said yes to spending the rest of your life with him even after being engaged for over two years because of your grad studies.

He wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his blazer. He heard a disapproving tsk from over his shoulder, knowing all too well that it was from Hanamaki Takahiro. Once his vision cleared, he found you right before him, lifting the veil from your face and letting it fall over the back of your head and oh, how beautiful you are. Nothing in his vocabulary could ever fully encapsulate the true beauty that is you.

Your hands moved to grasp his firmly and he was thinking of nothing but you and how you’re finally going to bear his name with yours. You were ethereal underneath the midsummer morning sun, stained glass painting you in luminescent colours and casting a breathtaking glow upon you. He couldn’t see anyone and anything else but you. The officiant’s words fell on deaf ears—he didn’t hear what she was saying. He didn’t hear the snickering from his best man, either.

With this ring, I shall ask you to be mine.

“Issei.” Of course you were the one to snap him out of his haze.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. It was agonising to him how he had to tear his gaze from you. He just wanted to keep staring at you and admiring you, but that’s okay. After the wedding, he could do that all he wanted. He didn’t care about the other parts. “What was that again?”

Laughter erupted in the small town church.

The officiant smiled, obviously amused by the two young newlywed-to-bes. She repeated herself once more, her grey eyes reading off the book in her wrinkly hands. He was impatient, toes curling underneath the suffocating leather of the rented Oxford shoes he was forced to wear. If it were up to him, he would have worn his everyday Vans.

He had nearly forgotten all of his vows, stuttering and losing himself in his thoughts halfway through his sentences. He was a complete mess compared to you, who giggled and laughed but encouraged him nonetheless to finish before you did the same. You were far more eloquent and prepared than he was, being the one in charge of organisation and stuff like that in your relationship. He had expected you to hide a piece of paper with your vows among the flowers and it didn’t surprise him when you did pull out a small roll within the petals.

“L/N Y/N.” Her voice boomed, demanding for his attention once again. “Do you take Matsukawa Issei to be your spouse?”

“I do.” Could your smile get any brighter? Because he swore he saw it glimmer.

“Matsukawa Issei.” She continued, “Do you take L/N Y/N to be your spouse?”

“Fuck, yes. Please just announce us as spouses, I wanna kiss Y/N already.”

“I am getting to it. If you’d just let me–”

He couldn’t wait. Oh, no he couldn’t. Issei’s hand, now proudly boasting a wedding ring, moved to cradle your jaw as the other found its home on your waist, pulling your body flush to his. The second your lips met, it was like the first time he’d kissed you—full of sparks, sending butterflies in his stomach a-fluttering and so full of love. He heard the cheers and claps from the guests seated; his family, his friends, as were yours, all beyond happy that the both of you had found your forever in each other.

When he finally pulled away, your arms looped around his neck and resting on his shoulders, you pouted.

“Another one, please, my spouse?” Fuck, did he love hearing that from you. Who was he to deny you of that? He was absolutely, irrevocably, unapologetically in love with you—first his Bonnie, then his sun, and now his forever. His lips found yours once again, sealing your fate into the stars and the heavens. From the one who was your escape, to the one whom you’re escaping with.

✎     ❝TO ALL THE BOYS!

THE LETTER                                   FINDING, BONNIE

would you like to try another route?

[fyeah-bangtan7]

The Boundless Optimism of BTS

IT IS THE MORNING OF CHUSEOK, A KOREAN HARVEST FESTIVAL akin to Thanksgiving, and the members of BTS would normally be spending it with their families, eating tteokguk, a traditional rice-cake soup. Instead, Jin, 28; Suga, 27; J-Hope, 26; RM, 26; Jimin, 25; V, 24; and Jung Kook, 23, are working. Practicing. Honing their choreography. In a few days, the biggest musical act in the world will perform in the live-stream concert that, for now, will have to stand in for the massive tour they spent the first part of this year rehearsing. At this moment, they’re seated inside Big Hit Entertainment headquarters in Seoul, South Korea, the house they built, dressed mostly in black and white, ready to answer my questions. They’re gracious about it. And groggy.

Before I’m done speaking with them for this story, BTS will have the number-one and number-two songs on the BillboardHot 100, a feat that’s been achieved only a handful of times in the sixty-odd years the chart has existed. Their next album, Be, is weeks away from being released, and speculation about the record, the tracklist, the statement, is rampant across the Internet. BTS are, to put it mildly, huge.

There is something about complete world domination that can really cement a friendship. What jumps out at me as I connect with the members of BTS is their level of comfort with one another. Tension has a way of making itself evident—even over Zoom, even through a translator. There’s none to be found here. They are relaxed in the manner of family. Lounging with their arms around each other’s shoulders, tugging on each other’s sleeves, fixing each other’s collars. When they speak about one another, it is with kindness.

“Jimin has a particular passion for the stage and really thinks about performance, and in that sense, there are many things to learn from him,” J-Hope says. “Despite all the things he has accomplished, he still tries his best and brings something new to the table, and I really want to applaud him for that.”

“Thank you for saying all these things about me,” Jimin responds.

Jimin turns his attention to V, explaining that he is “loved by so many” and describing him as one of his best friends. Suga jumps in, sharing that Jimin and V fight the most among the group. V replies, “We haven’t fought in three years!” They tell me this distinction now belongs to Jin and Jung Kook, the oldest and youngest members. “It all starts as a joke, but then it gets serious,” Jimin says.

Jin agrees and recounts what their arguments sound like. “Why did you hit me so hard?” he says, before mimicking Jung Kook’s response: “I didn’t hit you that hard.” And then they start hitting each other. But not that hard.

Since the start of their careers, BTS have shown a certain confidence in their aesthetic, their performances, and their music videos. It’s right there in the name: BTS stands for “Bangtan Sonyeondan,” which translates to “Bulletproof Boy Scouts,” but as their popularity grew in English-speaking markets, the acronym was retrofitted to mean “Beyond the Scene,” which Big Hit has described as “symbolizing youth who don’t settle for their current reality and instead open the door and go forward to achieve growth.” And their affection with one another, their vulnerability and emotional openness in their lives and in their lyrics, strikes me as more grown-up and masculine than all the frantic and perpetual box-checking and tone-policing that American boys force themselves and their peers to do. It looks like the future.

“There is this culture where masculinity is defined by certain emotions, characteristics. I’m not fond of these expressions,” Suga tells me. “What does being masculine mean? People’s conditions vary day by day. Sometimes you’re in a good condition; sometimes you aren’t. Based on that, you get an idea of your physical health. And that same thing applies mentally. Some days you’re in a good state; sometimes you’re not. Many pretend to be okay, saying that they’re not ‘weak,’ as if that would make you a weak person. I don’t think that’s right. People won’t say you’re a weak person if your physical condition is not that good. It should be the same for the mental condition as well. Society should be more understanding.”

When I hear these words in October 2020, from my house in a country whose leader is actively trying to make the case that only the weak die of COVID-19, well, it sounds like the future, too.

IF YOU ARE JUST NOW CONSIDERING GETTING INTO BTS, IT IS natural to feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff. It’s a bit like saying, right this second, “Let’s see what Marvel Comics is all about.” In the streaming age, BTS have sold more than twenty million physical units across fourteen albums. Their multi-album concept cycles, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Love Yourself, and Map of the Soul, have unfolded over multiple records and EPs. There are collaborations with brands, including a BTS smartphone with Samsung. There is a series of short films and music videos, called BU, or BTS Universe, and an animated universe called BT21, in which they’re all represented by gender-neutral avatars. Their fan base, known as ARMY, is a global cultural movement unto itself.

“Dynamite,” their first English-language single and their first American number one, is pure, ecstatic pop. Shiny and joyful. What sets them apart from many of their peers, and many of the pop acts who achieved worldwide fame before them, is what came earlier. Beneath the sheen and the beats has always been an unflinching examination of human emotion. Their lyrics seek to challenge the conventions of society—to question and even denounce them. BTS’s first single, “No More Dream,” unveiled at their debut showcase in June 2013, concerns the intense pressure South Korean schoolchildren face to conform and to succeed. According to Suga, lyrics about the mental health of young people were mostly absent in Korean pop music. “The reason I started making music is because I grew up listening for lyrics that speak about dreams, hopes, and social issues,” he tells me. “It just came naturally to me when making music.”

Suga’s early ambition of making music didn’t involve him being in a group at all. About a decade ago, in his hometown of Daegu, the fourth-largest city in South Korea, he started recording underground rap tracks under the name Gloss, listening to and learning from the early works of songwriter and producer Bang Si-hyuk, known as Hitman Bang. Bang is the founder and CEO of Big Hit Entertainment. In 2010, Suga, a junior in high school, moved to Seoul to join Big Hit as a producer and rapper. Then Bang asked him to become part of a group, envisioning a hip-hop act with fellow new Big Hit recruits RM and J-Hope. The guys call this “season one” of their development.

“At that time, I don’t think our label exactly knew what to do with us,” RM says. “They just basically let us be and we had some lessons, but we also just chilled and made music sometimes.”

It got more intense. The family grew, occasionally by accident.

V accompanied a friend to a Big Hit casting call in Daegu for moral support and ended up being the person chosen from those sessions.

Jung Kook was signed in a feeding frenzy after being dropped from the talent show Superstar K, fielding offers from numerous entertainment companies before settling on Big Hit because he was impressed by RM’s rapping.

Jimin was a dance student and class president for nine years running at his school in Busan; he auditioned at the behest of his teacher.

And then, to hear him tell it, Jin got picked up off the street. “I was just going to school,” he says. “Someone from the company approached me, like, ‘Oh, this is my first time seeing anyone that looked like this.’ He suggested having a meeting with me.”

“Season two is when we officially underwent hard training,” J-Hope says. “We started dancing, and that’s how I would say our team building started.”

School in the daytime, training at night. “We slept during classes,” V says.

“I slept in the practice studio,” J-Hope counters.

Hitman Bang kept the pressure comparatively low. And he encouraged the guys to write and produce their own music, to be honest about their emotions in their lyrics. Suga is on record saying that no BTS album would be complete without a track that scrutinizes society.

And yet for their new album, Be, they’re putting that aside. Even this has a greater purpose that relates to mental wellness: RM, the group’s main rapper, says, “I don’t think this album will have any songs that criticize social issues. Everybody is going through very trying times right now. So I don’t think there will be any songs that will be that aggressive.”

Though the new rules of COVID-19 mean they can’t come here and promote Be, its first single might not have happened in the first place but for the pandemic. “ ‘Dynamite’ wouldn’t be here if there was no COVID-19,” says RM. “For this song, we wanted to go easy and simple and positive. Not some, like, deep vibes or shadows. We just wanted to go easy.”

Jin agrees. “We were trying to convey the message of healing and comfort to our fans.” He pauses. “World domination wasn’t actually our plan when we were releasing ‘Dynamite.’ ” World domination just happens sometimes. You get it.

MAP OF THE SOUL ONE AIRED VIA THEIR ONLINE FAN PLATFORM and attracted almost a million viewers across 191 countries. The guys say they tried not to think about the enormousness. J-Hope adds, “I felt a little bit more nervous knowing that this was being broadcast live. I actually feel less nervous performing live at a stadium.” Jin replies with a smile, “J-Hope, born to perform at a stadium.”

The graphic layout of the title throws a colon between the final N and E, which makes it look like Map of the Soul On: E, and as I watch it live, as I do in my office at 3:00 a.m. with noise-canceling headphones and a steaming pot of coffee, it feels a lot like I’m watching Map of the Soul on E. It is an explosion of color and fashion and passion, over four gigantic stages, from the boozy swagger of “Dionysus” to the emo-trap introspection of “Black Swan.” Not a step, not a gesture, not a hair is out of place. If there were nerves, they didn’t come through.

There is also, at the end of Map of the Soul One, an intimate version of their 2017 track “Spring Day,” which encapsulates what’s really made BTS stand out. On the surface, it’s about nonspecific love and loss, about yearning for the past. “I think that song really represents me,” says Jin. “I like to look to the past and be lost in it.”

Fair enough, but there is an undeniable allusion, in both the song’s video and its cover concept, to a specific incident in recent South Korean history. “Spring Day” was released just a few years after the sinking of the Sewol ferry, one of the country’s biggest maritime disasters, in which a poorly inspected, overloaded ferry toppled in a sharp right turn. Hundreds of high school students drowned, having obeyed orders to stay in their cabins as the boat was going down. According to some reports, the South Korean government actively tried to silence entertainers who spoke out against it, with the Korean Ministry of Education fully banning the tragedy’s commemorative yellow ribbons in schools. I ask whether it was about a specific sad event, and Jin tells me, “It is about a sad event, as you said, but it is also about longing.” The song kept the disaster front of mind for young Koreans and for the media, indirectly leading to the impeachment and removal of then president Park Geun-hye.

If an overburdened, undermaintained, slow-moving vessel capsizing because of a reckless rightward turn strikes you as somehow symbolic of the country in which BTS are about to explode even further, you won’t hear it from them. “We’re outsiders—we can’t really express what we feel about the United States,” says V. But their actions speak volumes; in the wake of the George Floyd murder and subsequent protests in America, the group made a $1 million donation with Big Hit Entertainment to Black Lives Matter, one that was matched by BTS ARMY.

The fans offer a fascinating inversion of stan culture: Rather than bullying rivals like many other ardent online fan bases do, ARMY have put the positive message of the music into action. Their activism goes deep. Through micro-donations, they’ve regrown rain forests, adopted whales, funded hundreds of hours of dance classes for Rwandan youth, and raised money to feed LGBTQ refugees around the world. Where pop fans a generation ago might have sent teddy bears or cards to their idols for their birthdays, where five years ago they might have promoted a hashtag to get a video’s YouTube viewer count up, for RM’s twenty-sixth birthday in September, international fan collective One in an Army raised more than $20,000 for digital night schools to improve rural children’s access to education during the COVID-19 crisis. ARMY may have even entered the conversation around the 2020 presidential election when hundreds of thousands of Tulsa Trump rally tickets got snapped up online in June. The event’s actual attendance was pathetically low. No particular person or entity claimed credit for this top-notch trolling, but a video urging BTS fans to RSVP to that rally did get hundreds of thousands of views. We have no choice but to stan this fan base.

The relationship is intense. “We and our ARMY are always charging each other’s batteries,” RM says. “When we feel exhausted, when we hear the news all over the world, the tutoring programs, and donations, and every good thing, we feel responsible for all of this.” The music may have inspired the good works, but the good works inspire the music. “We’ve got to be greater; we’ve got to be better,” RM continues. “All those behaviors always influence us to be better people, before all this music and artist stuff.”

Yet for every devoted member of BTS ARMY, there is someone who’s looked right past BTS. Jimmy Fallon, whose Tonight Show hosted the group for a full week this past fall, was one of those people. “Usually if an artist is on the rise, I hear about them ahead of time. With BTS, I knew they had crazy momentum, and I’d never heard of them.”

Here’s a thought that used to be funny to me: There were members of the live audience of The Ed Sullivan Showon February 9, 1964, who weren’t there to see the Beatles. Elvis was in the Army, Buddy Holly was gone, and the three number-one albums in the months before Meet the Beatles! were an Allan Sherman comedy record, the West Side Story original cast recording, and Soeur Sourire: The Singing Nun. America had left rock ’n’ roll behind for the moment, and with the culture aimless and fragmented, it wasn’t quite sure what to pick up in its place. It is possible to imagine that a youngish, reasonably hip, and culturally aware human being might cop a ticket to that week’s show, settle into his seat, and say, “Bring on a medley of numbers from the Broadway musical Oliver! and banjo sensation Tessie O’Shea.”

The instinct is to laugh at that guy, and it’s a good instinct, because what a dope.

And then you become that guy.

Sometimes there is a whole universe alongside your own, bursting with color you’re too stubborn to see, bouncing with joy you think is for someone else, with a beat you thought you were finished dancing to. BTS are the biggest thing on the planet right now, yet the job of introducing them to someone new, particularly in America, seems like it’s never done. Maybe it’s because they are adored by screaming teenagers and we live in a society patriarchal enough to forget that screaming teenagers are nearly always right. Maybe it’s the cultural divide, in a moment when our country is unashamed enough of its own xenophobia to get openly bent out of shape when it has to press 1 for English. Maybe it’s the language barrier, as though we understood a single word Michael Stipe sang before 1989.

Whatever the reason, the result is that you might be missing out on a paradigm shift and a historic moment of pop greatness.

IF BTS SEEM A BIT CAUTIOUS WITH THEIR WORDS PUBLICLY, IT’S because—perhaps more than any other massive pop act in history—they have to be. Shortly after our second meeting, BTS were given the General James A. Van Fleet Award by the U. S.–based Korea Society for their outstanding contributions to advancing relations between the United States and Korea. In his acceptance speech, RM said, “We will always remember the history of pain that our two nations shared together, and the sacrifices of countless men and women,” as seemingly diplomatic and innocuous a statement as he could have made. But because he didn’t mention the Chinese soldiers who died in the Korean War, it didn’t go over well. The Samsung BTS smartphone disappeared from Chinese e-commerce platforms, Fila and Hyundai pulled ads in China that featured the group, the nationalistic newspaper Global Times accused them of hurting Chinese citizens’ feelings and negating history, and the hashtags “BTS humiliated China” and “there are no idols that come before my country” began trending on the social-media site Weibo. The pressure is not small.

Even as the number-one pop group in the world, even with their hard work day in and day out, even with tens of millions of adoring fans redefining the concept of “adoring fans” by literally healing the planet in their name, these guys still suffer from impostor syndrome. RM explains, “I’ve heard that there’s this mask complex. Seventy percent of so-called successful people have this, mentally. It’s basically this: There’s this mask on my face. And these people are afraid that someone is going to take off this mask. We have those fears as well. But I said 70 percent, so I think it’s very natural. Sometimes it’s a condition to be successful. Humans are imperfect, and we have these flaws and defects. And one way to deal with all this pressure and weight is to admit the shadows.”

The music helps. “When we write the songs and lyrics, we study these emotions, we are aware of that situation, and we relate to that emotionally,” J-Hope says. “And that’s why when the song is released, we listen to it and get consolation from those songs as well. I think our fans also feel those emotions, maybe even more than us. And I think we are a positive influence on each other.”

If there’s one thing they’re sacrificing, besides free time and the ability to speak freely without the Chinese foreign ministry releasing an official statement, it’s a love life. I ask about dating, broad questions like “Are you?” and “Is there time?” and “Can you?” and the answer to all of them is pretty clear: “No.” “The most important thing for us now is to sleep,” Jung Kook insists. Suga follows right up with “Can you see my dark circles?” I cannot, because there are none, because flawless skin translates even over Zoom when there’s an ocean between us.

So they’re not, at least publicly, having romantic relationships with anyone. If there is a strong relationship that’s guided their journey into adulthood, it’s with Big Hit. “Our company started with twenty to thirty people, but now we have a company with so many employees,” RM says. “We have our fans, and we have our music. So we have a lot of things that we have to be responsible for, to safeguard.” He considers it for a moment. “I think that’s what an adult is.”

“Our love life—twenty-four hours, seven days a week—is with all the ARMYs all over the world,” RM adds.

In a world that is determined to sand down anything that isn’t immediately recognizable to the average pop-music fan, when it comes to acquainting you with Korean culture, BTS very much do not wanna hold your hand. While the first song on night one of their Tonight Show week was a joyous but expected take on “Dynamite” with Fallon and the Roots, they took some chances during their second performance.

As a friend of mine, a thirty-three-year-old BTS fan in Los Angeles, told me, “The second song they performed was ‘IDOL,’ ” from 2018’s Love Yourself: Answer, “and it celebrated their Korean identity. They performed it in Gyeongbokgung Palace in Seoul. They wore clothes inspired by traditional dresses called hanboks;it was almost entirely in Korean, so it felt super subversive. As a fan, I read it as: ‘Dynamite’ was an invitation, and this is who we are and this is our home.”

“I was a little concerned that people might not understand,” Fallon says. “I was like, ‘There’s nothing in English here.’ But what you see is just pure star power. Pure talent. Immediately, I thought, Oh, this is everything. If you’re that powerful, it transcends language.”

American popular music in the twenty-first century is more fragmented than it has been since . . . well, since Allan Sherman, Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, and the Singing Nun battled for that number-one spot. The monoculture that the Beatles helped bring on has breathed its last breath. Each of us is the program director for our own private radio station, letting our own past habits and streaming-service algorithms serve up something close to what we want. Which is great, except that huge moments can whiz right past our ears. Each of us, even if we’re more clued in than our parents were when they were our age, can miss some era-defining, excellent shit. Particularly if the radio is our Spotify Discover Weekly, or the Pandora channel based on the band whose T-shirts we wore in college. We can let a moment pass us by if prime time is a Netflix binge, and the Tonight Show hour is spent on one more episode before bed. But we shouldn’t. “Honestly, I think it’s history that we’re living through with BTS,” Fallon says. “It’s the biggest band I’ve seen since I’ve started late night, definitely.”

THERE IS ALSO THE SMALL DETAIL THAT, UNLIKE THE BEATLES AND literally every other worldwide sensation to break in America, BTS don’t particularly need to go to the trouble. They are massive all over the world. Thanks to the recent IPO of Big Hit Entertainment, of which each member is a partner, they are all now incredibly wealthy. (Hitman Bang is the first South Korean entertainment mogul to become a billionaire.) What good is a culture in decline to a pop act this much on the ascent? “When I dreamed of becoming an artist, I listened to pop and watched all the awards shows in the United States. Being successful and being a hit in the U. S. is, of course, such an honor as an artist,” says Suga. “I feel very proud of that.”

They’re breaking out in a country that either worships them or fails to notice them. So do they feel like they’re getting enough respect in America? “How can we win everyone’s respect?” Jin asks. “I think it’s enough to get respect from people who support us. It’s similar everywhere else in the world. You can’t like everyone, and I think it’s enough to be respected by people who really love you.”

Suga agrees. “You can’t always be comfortable, and I think it’s all part of life. Honestly, we are not used to getting a ton of respect from when we first started out. But I think that gradually changes, whether it be in the States or other parts of the world, as we do more and more.”

There is, without a doubt, one colossal, unmistakable sign of respect for a musician: a Grammy. They’ve been nominated only once, and even then it was for best recording package. But their sights are set on a big one next year. RM puts it out there: “We would like to be nominated and possibly get an award.” Dragging the hoary, backward-looking, and Western-focused Grammys into the gorgeous, global world of the present through sheer force of will, talent, and hard work? Stranger things have happened. “I think the Grammys are the last part, like the final part of the whole American journey,” he says with a smile. “So yeah, we’ll see.”

The Recording Academy’s seal of approval is one thing. But BTS have already conquered the world, clowned tyrants, inspired individual fans to perform the small and achievable acts of activism that have collectively begun to save the planet, challenged toxic masculinity by leading with vulnerability, and, along the way, become bajillionaires and international idols. Whether the Grammys are paying attention matters about as much as what an Ed Sullivan audience member expected to see that night in 1964. BTS have already won.

© source

[heavymetalchemist]

Another chapter of ace4ace mingcheng is up! I was going to update the other post I made but I can't find it, thanks tumblr!

This chapter is pretty short so you can also read it here, why not!

Jiang Cheng was sitting quietly on a bench, reading a book, when someone wrapped their arms around him from behind. He jumped and shoved at them, only to hear Wei Wuxian’s familiar cackling in his ear.

“Heyyyyy Chengcheng! Let’s get lunch today!” he said, vaulting over the bench to sit next to Jiang Cheng.

“What, Lan Wangji busy?” Jiang Cheng grumbled, straightening his clothes.

“Can’t I just want to spend time with my favorite brother?” Wei Wuxian pouted. After a moment of Jiang Cheng’s continued glaring, he huffed. “Yes, he’s busy. But I want to spend time with you, too! We can go to that Korean place and get bibimbap!”

“Hmph. And you think you can just roll up with a last-minute invite. Well, lucky for you, I already have plans to go there, so I can bring you along,” Jiang Cheng said with a roll of his eyes.

“Plans? With who?”

“Nie Mingjue. We get lunch every Thursday.”

“You do?” Wei Wuxian blinked. “When did that start?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. It had kind of started after the time Nie Mingjue had given him a ride when Wei Wuxian had ditched him at a party then shut him out of their shared dorm room, but he didn’t want to make Wei Wuxian feel bad. At first Nie Huaisang had been there too — weekly lunch had been his idea — but he kept canceling more and more often until it was just Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue every week. But it was nice having a weekly social thing, especially with someone actually reliable. “A while.”

Wei Wuxian grinned and leaned in to bump their shoulders together. “Ohhhh I see. Good for you! Those big strong hands, am I right?”

Confused, Jiang Cheng nodded. “Yeah he… sure does have those,” he allowed. Nie Mingjue did work out a lot, after all. But before he could follow up, he heard the campus bell tower start to chime noon. “Well, let’s go then,” he said, tucking his book into his bag and getting to his feet.

Annoying as ever, Wei Wuxian slung his arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders as they walked off campus, chattering away about his music theory class. Jiang Cheng didn’t shake him off, though. Ever since Wei Wuxian had become obsessed with Lan Wangji, he hadn’t had much time for his brother. Sure, Jiang Cheng got to see his siblings at the monthly family dinner, but it was hard to really catch up with their parents there. Plus, as his siblings’ relationships grew more serious, his mother had increasingly been making threats to set him up with someone.

But Jiang Cheng only wanted to focus on his studies. Yes, he could see how happy Jiang Yanli was now that things were working out with Jin Zixuan, but he clearly remembered how miserable she’d been before that. Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, had been deep in denial about his crush on Lan Wangji but absolutely unable to leave the man alone. His increasingly ridiculous antics trying to get Lan Wangji’s attention had landed him in trouble on multiple occasions. He’d actually been banned from one of the campus libraries!

Jiang Cheng had given up asking, but he still just didn’t understand Wei Wuxian’s obsession. He privately hoped that he never did, it seemed terribly inconvenient to have someone take up that much of your brain all the time. And Jiang Cheng didn’t have Wei Wuxian’s ability to show up to an exam hung over after only an hour of studying and still ace it. If he ever got obsessed like that he’d probably fail out of school.

He was relieved to see Nie Mingjue already waiting outside the restaurant. “Hey,” he called.

Nie Mingjue’s expression lightened as he turned, and then his brow furrowed when he spotted Wei Wuxian. “Hey, A-Cheng. Wei Wuxian.”

“Oh, A-Cheng, is it?” Wei Wuxian said, waggling his eyebrows. He let out an oof as Jiang Cheng elbowed him in the side.

“Hope you don’t mind, this gremlin wanted to get Korean, too,” Jiang Cheng said, ignoring the way Wei Wuxian rubbed his side and pouted.

“Sure. You guys want some alone time, or…?”

“Ah, no!” With a brilliant smile Wei Wuxian darted over to latch onto Nie Mingjue’s arm. “Don’t let me drive you away! Oh, oh wow. You do work out,” he added, squeezing at Nie Mingjue’s bicep.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng hissed.

Fortunately, Nie Mingjue didn’t seem too bothered by it, although he did extract his arm from Wei Wuxian’s grasp. “Shall we, then?” he said, opening the door for them.

It was a bit awkward at first. Nie Mingjue had commiserated a few too many times with Jiang Cheng about their brothers running off to pursue new interests. But to Jiang Cheng’s surprise, Wei Wuxian seemed determined to make nice. He couldn’t quite smother the disappointment that Wei Wuxian didn’t seem to be jealous that Jiang Cheng had made a new friend, but really, it was nice that Wei Wuxian was supportive. They were in college, after all, and making new friends was supposed to be part of that.

“So will you be coming to family dinner next weekend?” Wei Wuxian asked before shoving a giant bite in his mouth.

“Don’t I always?” Jiang Cheng muttered.

“Mmph! No’chu! H’m!” Wei Wuxian mumbled around his food and pointing at Nie Mingjue with his chopsticks.

“Family dinner?” Nie Mingjue asked curiously.

“Why would…?” With a huff, Jiang Cheng shook his head. “Every month we are summoned back home to have dinner with my parents,” he explained. “There’s no getting out of it. Trust me, you don’t want to come. It usually ends with screaming.”

Wei Wuxian finally finished his bite. “Jiang Cheng! It does not! You’re exaggerating,” he said, flapping his hand. “Besides, I’m bringing Lan Zhan and Jiejie is bringing that peacock. Why shouldn’t you bring Nie Mingjue?”

Jiang Cheng frowned. It really wasn’t the same at all, and he was about to say so when Nie Mingjue jumped in. “All right.”

“Really?” Jiang Cheng asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Sounds like you could use a buffer,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug. “Besides, free food, right?” He smiled one of his rare smiles, dimples showing.

Jiang Cheng snorted. “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said.

“Ahaha, speaking of free food…” Wei Wuxian began.

“You forgot your wallet again, huh.”

“I didn’t mean to! Lan Zhan always pays!”

“You fucking mooch.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise!”

— —

“Well, that was something,” Nie Mingjue said as they walked out of Jiang Cheng’s parents’ house.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said. “I mean. At least there wasn’t screaming?”

“There is that,” Nie Mingjue said slowly. “Although I think maybe it’s because there were witnesses.”

“Tch. Probably.” They climbed into Nie Mingjue’s car. After that dinner Jiang Cheng was feeling very grateful that they’d decided to drive separately from Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. He could use the decompression time before getting back to the dorm room. “Weird, though. Mother’s been on my ass about setting me up and now it’s all about how I should be focusing on my studies? Wonder what made her change her tune.”

“Maybe seeing Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji together,” Mingjue said, starting the car. “I’d heard from Xichen but… wow. That is something. And in front of your parents!”

“Ugh, the worst part is that Father thought it was cute!” Jiang Cheng groaned. “What’s that meme? Right in front of my salad?”

Nie Mingjue let out a deep laugh. “Yeah. The food was really good, though.”

“Oh yeah. The food is the only reason to go. And hey, thanks for coming. It really was nice to have a friend there.”

“Sure.” Nie Mingjue shot him a smile. “Anytime.”

“Really?” Jiang Cheng asked, surprised. “Anytime?”

“They let me have thirds, A-Cheng,” Nie Mingjue said, smirking. “I’m happy to eat them out of house and home.”

Jiang Cheng laughed. Nie Mingjue really was a great friend.

— —

“He seems fine, my lady,” Jiang Fengmian said with a sigh. “I thought you wanted A-Cheng to meet someone!”

Yu Ziyuan scoffed. “I wanted to set him up with an appropriate match! Has he even thought about their long-term career goals? This Nie Mingjue has his own ambitions, how can he properly support A-Cheng’s success?”

“Well, it’s not as though they’re getting married,” Jiang Fengmian soothed. “Let the boy have some fun.”

“At least they have more propriety than Wei Wuxian,” she grumbled.

“A-Xian is in love!”

“It’s disgusting and you know it!”

[thekidultlife]

IT'S OUR 2ND ANNIVERSARY! 🎉🥳🥂

@Authors' Note: This is Leanne and Hyeri's story. Please bear with us as we try to reminisce over the past years and celebrate where we are now as writers, as friends, and most especially, as individuals who have grown a lot and changed a lot through the years.

Warnings: Contains a semi-reveal of what we actually look like in real life lol so if you’re interested, keep reading down lol.

We started this blog in 2017. We deactivated in 2018, just weeks before what was supposed to be our first anniversary. We stayed silent throughout the rest of 2018 and 2019, but we picked up where we left off this 2020. Despite the messy history of this blog, though, and the changes in our lives, we are extremely happy that we did come back. And the reason why we came back? Well, it’s pretty simple. 

The same love for SEVENTEEN, which made us start this blog, brought us back again.

We’re not lying when we tell you that this blog was what made us closer and what our friendship grow deeper. 

Back then, we were just classmates who found common interests in each other (history, writing novels, analyzing politics, and being one of the ‘Big 3′ in our class lol) but didn’t know how to bond over these interests. But when we both started sharing a room in a dormitory close to our university in 2017, things changed. And things changed because we both found SEVENTEEN. 

LEANNE: I wasn’t really a K-pop fan during that time. But I remember sitting beside Hyeri at our study area, watching her as she watched DWC and thinking to myself, “Maybe this could be it. Maybe this could be the ‘thing’ that we could bond over and could make our friendship grow. And so I leaned over and asked, “Oooh, which group is that?” What followed then was a night where I became a convert, and SVT became a part of me forever. 

After that night, we found ourselves always talking about them because they became the thread that made us close. And while bonding over SVT, we started to become more open about our lives and about ourselves in terms of personalities. We didn’t know why but we just clicked. Before we started becoming really close, we had different sets of friends. But then, we just knew that our friendship was different because we truly understand each other. 

HYERI: I wasn't a Kpop stan before either. Like if my high school me knew I'd become like this, she'll cringe in embarrassment. But it happened. A friend recommended me to watch React to the K because I'm a huge classical music nut, and I discovered Seventeen there. I seriously can't remember that exact moment when Leanne asked, but I do remember that one time when I showed her the dance practice for Aju Nice. It was one of the first things I showed to her, and then without knowing, we've already watched a lot of Seventeen videos. 

Whenever I look back at that time, I just remember how happy we were even though it wasn't really a good moment in our lives. There were a lot of stress and problems, and everything just seemed to spiral down from there. But I just feel a warm feeling in my chest whenever July and August comes, I smell the rain, and remember how many nights we spent binging on Seventeen, talking inside the nearby 7/11 until 1am, knowing that classes were cancelled the next day because of the weather. It was truly a magical moment for me because I never had a friend like Leanne, like sometimes we just have the same thought patterns, and we bonded over Seventeen so much. We would just talk endlessly about them, brainstorming ideas for fics and so on to the point that we only stopped because the 5AM alarm went off lmao Those times were just absolutely incredible.

LEANNE: We also have kind of the same goal back then: to have a platform where we could practice writing. Hyeri suggested that we try creating a blog for fanfiction. I agreed because I truly wanted to try and I was so obsessed with Choi Seungcheol back then. So we planned our first fics, who posts first, and we created it. Just like that. On August 12, 2017, we made our first post.

Our first name was “diabolically-diamondiferous”. We wanted something different (and we now admit that we did go overboard with the bing different thing lol) and so we agreed that this would be our URL. We chose it because of the concept that there is a duality in this blog that readers should look forward to, a dynamic that they would only see here, I guess? That was the goal. That was how it all started. 

HYERI: I was a Wonwoo stan back then. I had already written Love is A Fallacy and a bit of 30 Nights before we even created the blog, and I wanted an avenue where I can post it. I admit I myself can't think of a better url than "diabolically-diamondiferous", so I just went with it. 

Honestly, the blog has helped me a lot with writing. I used to write anime fanfictions and original stories, and I've already established my style back then. This blog has really helped me a lot with refining my writing style and experimenting with new ideas and ways to tell a story, as well as being able to write quickly. I do think I've improved with my dialogues and the way I pace my stories, and make them feel organic. And with that, I've never realized I've already written a lot, until I arranged the masterlist recently.

What began with a few stories turned into hundreds as we started pouring our hearts into this blog. And we would be lying if we told you that it was pressure-free. 

LEANNE: During this time, my responsibilities at uni, family and other personal matters made me unable to focus on the blog a lot. I really feel sorry for Hyeri during this time because she was the one who was more consistent with posting her stories. I joke every now and then these days whenever she couldn’t write that it’s okay, you once had too much weight and now I’ll carry my share and more, too, if it gets hard for you. Even though I was busy with other things, however, Hyeri really pulled through and made this blog come alive. And as a friend, she really helped me get through my darkest moments. This blog, too, became my crutch. Whenever my heart got broken, I would write here. I would try to find my voice (and at that time, I couldn’t find myself, either. Just ask Hyeri why, lol.) in writing. I was experimenting what voice I had while writing and what genre fits me. 

HYERI: Following Leanne's, I guess after our trip to Korea, things became way harder. I had a lot of low points back then as well: losing my scholarship and just so much responsibility in life and at school. I did carry much of the weight of the blog after that semester, and I'm surprised how I managed to do that. I kept on badgering Leanne to finish some requests, but she really had a lot going on as well. Not to mention our plans to join an exchange program to Korea which was another hell we signed up for. It was extra difficult because our department doesn't want us to leave, thinking we're just running away from the strict (and often unfair) professors (ironic when our major is International Relations).Seventeen and this blog was the only way we could bond together and have fun and just forget about everything. I could remember sending each other fake messages from Seventeen just to cheer the other up when things get depressing, or imagining what it would feel like to be an idol and whatnot. It sounds silly now, but that was the only way we could cope with how intense and exhausting our lives were. It was the only thing that kept the constant dread in our nerves from taking over.

What began as an experimental way to boost creativity became something like a career, and steering our motivation, was of course, the boys. Our boys. The amazing people that we write about and that we imagine about. They made us happy during the times when there was nothing to be happy about. They made us take risks that brought out the braveness we didn’t know we had in us, and they made us feel hopeful about the future. 

However, we hit a hurdle we couldn’t bring ourselves back from hurdle after hurdle during our second semester as juniors in college.  

LEANNE: Second semester of junior year in college was really hard for me. The bottom line of it all was the manipulative relationship that I was in with my s/o back then, but a lot of things piled up as well: school responsibilities (I was handling three classes at one point as a professor’s assistant and then ran for a student government position I didn’t really want but felt obliged to). All the while this was happening, I was really feeling myself slip away. I was suffering from depression but I had a lot of things going on around me that I could not just drop because people were depending on me. The only way I thought I would be able to not give up is by going somewhere else to finish my studies. Yes, the environment got that toxic. I really needed to get away. Around this time, I wasn’t active on the blog anymore. Right after elections, I lost my motivation to do anything. I would sometimes pitch in to help Hyeri with some requests, but it took way more effort than I thought it would. 

Hyeri and I decided that we needed to take the risk of applying for the South Korean exchange program, which was one of the best that our uni had to offer. We figured that since our grades were okay, it would be easy. Boy were we wrong.

HYERI: The Coldest Human, The Warmest Robot was the last fic I've posted in the blog before the hiatus. I couldn't do it anymore. There were so many problems and issues with the exchange program that I could no longer handle the blog alone. Leanne had withdrawn too, considering how she has her own things to face as well. It was a really difficult time. After being rejected a visa, I just can't think of writing, or even Seventeen anymore. Just their presence seemed to only remind me that I had been rejected after months and months of preparation. Their songs only reminded me of our disappointments. It was awful and I knew I can't face them at that time. I found myself in Taiwan. Alone. Leanne had stayed and it was depressing. I had to move on despite that, but it felt like an empty success.

We planned to become a part of an exchange program in South Korea, but it didn’t pull through at the last minute. We had staked all our bets, and we lost motivation in a lot of things. One of those things was this blog. We just knew that we had to let it go during 2018, because it was impossible to maintain it when you don’t feel inspired about life anymore. 

HYERI: The Coldest Human, The Warmest Robot was the last fic I've posted in the blog before the hiatus. I couldn't do it anymore. There were so many problems and issues with the exchange program that I could no longer handle the blog alone. Leanne had withdrawn too, considering how she has her own things to face as well. It was a really difficult time. After being rejected a visa, I just can't think of writing, or even Seventeen anymore. Just their presence seemed to only remind me that I had been rejected after months and months of preparation. Their songs only reminded me of our disappointments. It was awful and I knew I can't face them at that time. I found myself in Taiwan. Alone. Leanne had stayed and it was depressing. I had to move on despite that, but it felt like an empty success. Right after going back home for winter vacation, I remember I was angry crying because I knew Leanne can't do anything because of her circumstances, even if she wanted to go to Taiwan so much.

LEANNE: I was miserable during first semester as a senior because everything did not go as planned. I was really losing the resolve to keep going on because nothing had gone the way I had planned it to be. I think the only silver lining during 2018 was that my parents and friends finally stepped in to protect me from the person who had been harming me emotionally and therefore affecting my self-esteem and resolve. We also went to Macau, where I really healed a lot as well while teaching music with close friends from church. But beyond that, I could see no other way to get through the last semester except to follow Hyeri and go to Taiwan. It wasn’t just her friendship that I was missing; it was also about that goal I had in my mind: to find peace and quiet away from everything that had hurt me and drained me.

We didn’t have any high hopes about what lay ahead, but the biggest plot twist came.

LEANNE: By some miracle, I managed to convince my parents that I was well enough to go to Taiwan and that I would be safer there. It all happened so fast. February I was still crying, standing at the train tracks, telling our other friend that I wanted to just end it. But then March came and my visa got approved on a Friday. Three days later, just packing whatever I had with me in my apartment, I left for Taiwan.

It was a miracle Hyeri and I still talk about a lot. We started to heal from everything that we had gone through. We started to re-explore our friendship and in the end, after so much drama and after so much challenges, we finally concluded that this friendship of ours was really something that we wanted to keep forever. We grew a lot through the years.

HYERI: Who would've thought that with a lot of begging and pleading and praying, Leanne was finally able to go to Taiwan. I was so happy. It was one of the happiest memories of my life so far. Being in Taiwan, away from the world, from the responsibilities back at home, it was such a liberating time.It was also the exact period which we started to heal from past disappointments. Seventeen no longer gave me the pain I used to feel, and to this day, You Made My Day---the album which was released before everything happened, and reminded me a lot of what had transpired---is one of my favourite Seventeen albums.

But here we are now, in 2020. It was really because of Hit the Road that we decided to come back. We agreed to start writing again come June 2020. We started doing what we loved again. 

HYERI: We had fully healed from everything and we're fully ready to come back to writing about our precious boys! I am so happy to be able to finally celebrate the actual anniversary for this blog!

LEANNE: And now, here we are, celebrating our anniversary! The first one we really had! This is all impromptu editing but we really wanted to make it special. 

Highlights Throughout the Years:

💎 Love is A Fallacy (Lawyer!Wonwoo)

The first ever fic I've written for SVT. I remember I wrote this while I was at the dorm on my bed, it was a miraculously stress-free night. The song I kept on playing was "20" and I could imagine it being the OST if this was a kdrama 😂 This was at a time when Wonwoo was still my bias.

💎Adagio Cantabile (College Student!Jihoon)

A fic I first wrote after Jihoon became my bias. I could still remember, I was so inspired by a fic titled Customer Satisfaction, that I wrote this one. Plus I'm really into Classical Music, that I could just write one whole fic about it. I'm still amazed how we were able to write fanfiction even though we were swamped with school work, and I mean, SWAMPED, like a lot of exams, graded recitation, things to memorize, super long essays, but we still managed to write. 😂

💎Saffron (Victorian AU DK)

This was written shortly after Leanne and I went back from Korea. I was so blissfully happy back then. I think I've spent a night or two writing this. This was heavily inspired by the game "Chocolatier" which I was playing days before I've started writing 😂 I really love writing for DK, he's such a positively innocent character who was so endearing.

💎The Coldest Human; Warmest Robot (Android!Jihoon)

This was probably the last one shot I've posted before the hiatus in 2018. I remember finishing it in my hometown when we went there for summer vacation. It was a really bad time ngl I lost my scholarship and was supposed to go to an exchange program to South Korea with Leanne. Back I didn't know if I could support that dream financially.

💎The Most Convenient Escape (Soulmate!Jihoon)

This was the first fic I've written after the hiatus. Truthfully, over 2018-2019, I lost my love for SVT. It was painful to be reminded of the fact that we weren't able to go to Korea, so I avoided them while I was in Taiwan. But I came back around this year and started to write this one. It's heavily inspired by the book "Voices of the Past" which is a compilation of American newspaper articles over the years, and anime reviews which talked about Deconstructing a genre (i.e., Madoka Magica and Evangelion). Right now I really do want to finish this series.

Highlights Throughout the Years

💎The Return of Superman Series

My first work, TROS Seungcheol, was the first fic in the entire blog that I was truly proud of. All my other works were too rushed, too experimental for my own taste even, and just doesn’t look like what I, Leanne, if you personally know me, would write about. I strongly believe that there is a unique voice in each story, a voice that belongs only to its writer, and back then, I was still trying to find that voice. The Return of Superman was my breakthrough in writing. I suddenly found an AU that I truly loved to write about, and, most importantly, my voice in writing.

💎After-Party, Only Us, and Afterglow | Yoon Jeonghan

This is the spin-off series that came from Yoon Jeonghan’s The Return of Superman. I started to become more comfortable in my style of writing as I wrote these. You will notice a change of style after the first part, “After-Party”. My writing style has matured, and I really congratulate myself a lot for that. It took me years and tons of experiences to get that flavor I had always wanted in my works! Haha. 

💎The And Series

This is another one of those imagines that really brought out the hopeless romantic inside me, and for that, I am proud of it. It’s still mostly in the works, but I  am really happy about how it’s turning out.

💎Through the Seasons Series

Ah, this is my pet project. All my heart is poured into this one. This is the first series that I truly explored the beauty of love in realistic settings. My writing process here is done by looking at real couples LOL and also tapping into beautiful memories of mine about love and about life and all the drama that comes along. I’m really glad that a lot of our new readers liked the first one that came out!

Our story-time ends here. 

All in all, we just want to say thank you. Thank you for everything. For being with us through this crazy ride of a blog, truly, sincerely, thank you. From our followers since the beginning, to the new ones that we are finding joy in communicating with now, thank you. From the bottom of our hearts!

LET’S MAKE MORE MEMORIES TOGETHER!

- Leanne and Hyeri. 

[writinginthesparetime]

A place far away pt7

pairing: actor!Park Haejin x student!reader

Warnings: famous!au ; college!au ; litte bit of swearing?

genre: fluff ;

chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

(If needed I will add more warnings and upload the genre tags in next chapters)

Summary:

So that’s how all started.

It was a rainy day in Seoul and I was the new girl in town. Precisely the new girl in college, just moved from europe to study abroad.

Little did I knew Seoul was not the only korean thing I’d fell in love with.

————————————————

21st November

“Lillian! Your caffelatte!”

I looked up from my books just a moment, only to see a girl holding two cups in her hands desperately trying to get her friend’s attention.

This cafeteria in the campus often looked like this: loud and busy. I didn’t enjoy spending my time there to study, but that morning only the idea of staying home made me sick.

I spent the last two weeks studying for three exams, now focusing on the last one of those. Class? Chemical behind the skincare.

I went back to my notes, looking at graphics and formulas well written, trying to revise some useful acids for peeling and the benefits of vitamin c for our skin.

I sipped my coffee and looked at the time. Almost 11 o’clock.

It was so weird to think that the whole campus had the free morning. Someone definitely decided to spend it in bed sleeping, someone just enjoyed their free time and someone, like me, chose to keep on studying.

I never wanted to be the best student, but indeed I wanted to prove myself I could. I just needed to tell myself so, and actually work hard. Luckily, lessons were interesting and I found myself being capable of getting on the top of class.

Even cooking class was satisfying.

In the table next to me, a group of girls were chatting loudly, all smiling and well dressed. They were talking about the real reason why morning classes were cancelled and most of the girls went on campus anyways. The reason they all wore their best dresses and used tons of makeup.

An idol.

Or someone famous.

Again.

Yes, if months ago there were some weird visit by an entertainment company, that morning was the confirmation of a collaboration with the college.

So, an idol in that exact moment was in one of my college’s class filming some stupid advertisement about some stupid product, probably to attract teenagers who are still influenced by whoever is in the commercial.

And it worked just fine.

I sighed lightly reading again the same phrase on my notes. “What’s uva and uvb rays? And how uv sun rays damage our skin?”

Let’s say in the morning, especially on these cold ones, the last thing I think of is putting sunscreen on.

Just waken up then, after embracing a sky full of clouds, that’s definitely not my first thought.

And suddenly I thought about Nana who was surely still sleeping in her warm bed.

I lost every kind of concentration, desolated I closed my books and stopped looking outside the window.

I still had some time before the first lesson started, but it was so obvious that I wasn’t able to keep on revising.

This exam looked infinitely long to study and I still had one to go before the end of the year.

And then I suddenly started thinking about that lesson, one month and a half ago. About that speech the teacher made, about working in a company.

I sank into the chair, trying to make myself as little as possible.

I didn’t know what to do with this information. All my classmates saw the list and picked their favourite company. Some girls, after reading important company names, even started to study more.

And I was the only one in the class who hasn’t choose yet. Well, I didn’t even decided about doing this work or not.

I was one of the best students, suitable for the opportunity, but I was afraid about the whole working and going to classes and studying for exams at the same time. I could have just failed.

Plus, I really couldn’t understand why we had to choose a company, I could really work everywhere they wanted.

I snorted.

I knew my time was almost over, I couldn’t keep on procrastinating. A teacher already stopped me in the hallways to know if I made up my mind. I simply run away.

And then I suddenly thought about the no-boys rule, that has been recently broken by Nana a week ago at a really late halloween party. She kept on saying that she didn’t really broke our promise since she make out with a girl, but we both knew the truth.

On the other hand, I didn’t date anyone, girl or boy. I kinda made friends with other classmates, even ended up in a project group with Jackson, who kept being an acquaintance.

That’s it.

That’s it, like any other Hae-jin story then.

I looked up.

Y/n, stop thinking about him.

Yet, sometimes his kind smile came back to mind.

And even how we never met in the last month and a half, after bumping into each other almost every week.

Slowly the voices in the cafe became quieter and many people left, dispersing in the campus.

I sipped my coffee and I saw myself reflected in the window.

My eyes were tired from the lack of sleep and my cheeks bright pink because of the cold November.

I wrapped myself in my blue hoodie, judging again my morning decision to choose comfort over style. Countless times Nana tried to find any item in my wardrobe to save my outfits, that are so basic to her.

Anyways I did find a trick: just wear an elegant coat over every outfit and suddenly I didn’t look like a mess. Not completely.

I noted mentally to go shopping as soon as my mother sent me some money.

I got up picking my things up and throwing them inside the backpack and, against my will, I exited the cafeteria heading to class to revise the next coming exam. I wasn’t prepared for it, neither for the day ahead.

While i was quickly walking i kept hearing people chat about what was going on in college, and i even saw some people randomly run through the campus, going wherever they heard the idol’s last location was.

And it was just one of those crowds that crushed me. I stumbled, getting hit by thousands hands and shoulders that tried to get me out of the way.

I was almost falling when I ended up crushing a girl, she quickly grabbed me by my shoulders, holding me.

“Everything’s okay?’ She asked worried.

This girl definitely looked older than me, well I could guess she wasn’t going to college anymore. Her neat appearance made me feel ashamed. Everything about her made me think she was one of those girls who really treated herself good.

“I’m fine, thank you.” I said softly and bowed at her. She took a step back, feeling the embarrassment between the two of us.

With her right hand, closed into holding two different phones, she moved a lock of hair with her pinkie.

Only then I noticed she was holding, with her other hand, a big brown leather briefcase. She kinda looked like a business woman, only her windbreaker didn’t suit her style: an huge stuffed one, long ‘till under her knees, with an embroidered word on her chest, probably the name of the company she was working for.

She quickly excused herself and left, not giving me enough time to read that word. I only saw the logo, made by three little triangles that reminded me of the three Giza’s pyramids.

“Y/n!” I heard my name being called while trying to walk in the hallway. “Wait, y/n!”

I turned around to where I thought this voice came, only to see Nana, of course, running to me. In a couple of seconds she joined me and, well, actually she bumped into me, with the biggest hug.

“Y/n-ah, you have no idea how it’s so good to wake up late, i feel so fresh!” Saying so she slapped her cheeks lightly.

“Lucky you.” I looked up.

“Oh my god, what are those? Eye-bags?”.

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately.” I said shrugging my shoulders.

We walked side by side, in silence. Nana knew my weird sleeping habits, she knew it’s been weeks since I had a proper full night of sleep and, luckily, she knew when was the time to not say a word.

And I didn’t have to tell her more.

In the hallways people kept walking and talking, even louder than any other day, it was becoming annoying.

Everyone was frenetically moving, girls stopping mid walking looking at their phones, little half runs and continuously checking their hair.

I was getting curious to know who was the reason of this whole mess.

“Hold this: I have a concealer that matches your skin color.” Nana suddenly gave me her make-up trousse. We have so differently skin color, even different undertones, but I wasn’t shocked at all: we often tried make-up products together, even sharing them for fun. “If it’s not your color, you’re good enough to make it work it out. I know lately you’re not into this, but your eye-bags could literally scare the teacher.”

I smiled at her, knowing that she was trying to make me feel better and she definitely didn’t want me to look like a zombie.

We left in front of the class door, she headed inside to take seats while I just tried to remember where the closest toilet was.

Needless to say that I didn’t know at all: campus and buildings were huge, every lesson was taken in a different classroom and I still couldn’t orient myself. I only followed the signs.

I found myself walking for the whole hallway and after turning twice, fifty metres ahead, I ended up in a blind alley, with some doors on the sides.

Above one of them, a sign with a drawing of a lady. And behind that same door a group of girl exited the toilet. Coming across, we bowed slightly.

All of the sudden, behind myself I heard a soft sound, getting slowly louder until the rustle clearly turned into quick steps in the hallways.

I turned around confused, but I could only see me and the other four girls.

I was so focused on that sound which was gettin louder and kinda deafening because of the echo on the walls, that I didn’t notice I was slowly going backwards.

And when I turned, I didn’t have the time to clearly see the person I bumped into.

Raising my gaze, I saw some details.

A black button down shirt. A strong arm. Fine jawline.

And then the shoulder I literally crush into.

The man was taller than me so his shoulder was at the same height as my face, and because of my abrupt movement I ended up hitting him.

I got hurt on the side of my face, a strong smack at my right ear.

Suddenly my head started spinning, there was a loud strong whistle that kept shutting my thoughts. I stumbled untill I lied to the closest wall.

Every sound was padded. I brought my hands to my head, I could literally heard my blood angrily pulsing.

I didn’t know what was around me anymore. My vision was blurred, it was hard for me to focus on anything.

I ended up squeeze my eyes multiple times.

The man stopped, and I only knew because I couldn’t hear any close steps.

My legs were shaking and the whistle still there, not letting me think straight.

“Oh.” A manly voice that sounded so far away. “I am sorry.” His cold and formal words made me shiver.

The only thing I was thinking about was to find a quite place to sit, any place.

And then, like someone opened a door with air stream, steps and voices got louder.

The whistle left, letting me finally hear but every little sound now was painful as a stab. I looked up trying to recall the place, feeling the rough wall behind me.

I was so shocked to see a crowd of people coming towards me, and a man I could clearly see because he was taller than anyone. That man. He just run out to another hallway.

I didn’t see more because once I recognised the toilet door I only thought about laying on the little couch each bathroom in campus had.

I moved quickly.

I closed my eyes while sinking on it. Slowly I started feeling better, no more dizziness. My heartbeat was regular now.

Outside, finally the silence.

It still took me a couple of minutes before getting up. I decided to splash my face with some cold water and suddenly I felt a little better, more awake.

I could still clearly see how sick I looked.

Maybe it was time for that concealer to save me.

I quickly applied some makeup, trying to hide my dark eye-bags. I fixed my hair tying them up into a ponytail to look more clean.

“You look awful.” I whispered.

I exited the toilet and redo the same way backwards. Empty hallways and silences.

Only my steps echoing between the yellowish walls.

Three times I bumped into someone that morning. Three differs ways, three different people, three different pair of arms touched me.

Hold.

Loved.

Hurt.

Slightly bent over, I got closer to Nana who took a seat in the middle raw.

I tried to be as quiet as possible and to be the more invisible I could. The teacher already started the lesson and he was writing fast on the blackboard.

“Y/n, what happened?”

Nana asked after looking at the clock on the wall, and then at me. I let myself fall onto the chair, giving back her trousse.

“I don’t think I am feeling good, after class I am going home.”

I was slowly walking through the campus, heading to the exit while thinking about taking a long nap before getting back to study.

I needed to rest.

And i needed a painkiller for my headache.

“Miss. Y/l/n! Miss!” I heard a door slamming and quick steps. Beside me, my history of makeup’s teacher was closing our distance.

“Yes?” I asked. Behind him, inside the hallway people were talking and looking at us.

“I am truly sorry to disturb you, but I needed to know if you decided about the job. As I have already told you, this is the last week to sign up.”

“I am really thankful for your interest, but I haven’t had the time to look at the list, so I think I’ll have t-“ I couldn’t end the phrase because the teacher, after looking up for a folder and finding it inside his briefcase, interrupted me.

“Here it is.” He gave me the folder smiling.

“Honestly, I still won’t have the time to choose, I’m too busy studying for exams.”

“Miss y/l/n, that’s not the first time we talked about this.”

“I am truly sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to study and work and attend classes, all together.”

“Miss, I never thought of you as a lazy person, but you know better than me that classes are ending soon and there are just a few exams to be taken. Do you really want to risk to lose this opportunity?”

“What if I can’t do it?”

“Miss, you’re on the top five of the class, we are positive you’ll be able to make it just fine. And if you won’t, we do not expect you to pass every exam this semester.”

“But it will be humiliat-“

“It will be more embarrassing to lose such an opportunity to work with professionals. I don’t want to force you, but I think you’ll regret this in the future.”

He kept smiling the whole time, trying maybe to reassure me, while his words were sharp.

I really just wanted to go home, forget about everything and sleep. Thinking too much made my headache stronger.

I raised my gaze, ignoring his face. Behind him, I could see some people staring.

“All I ask you is to think about it.”

I grabbed the folder and hold it tight.

I just needed to resist one more week, and wait for the deadline.

But the idea of meeting persistent teachers made me feel sick. More than I already was.

“Are you feeling good?” He asked worried, taking on step closer.

“Not really. Teacher, I don’t really have time to choose between the companies right now.”

“I have a proposal. Actually, you can even meet them now if yo-“ He stopped talking mid sentence. “A-are you feeling good? You look pale, do you need some water?”

“Thank you teacher, I just need to go home and rest.” I quickly smiled.

“Please, think about my proposal. I actually highlighted the company in the list and at the end of the folder I gave you some informations.”

He sounded so noisy.

“Okay okay. I surrender, I accept. Please send me via mail al the papers I need to fill and I’ll gave it back to you as soon as possible. But now, I really need to go.”

I quickly bowed and left, heading to the closest bus stop.

The headache was painful as ever. I found myself crying on my way home.

————————————————

A/n:

I am truly sorry, it took me ages to write this chapter. I keep on revising it because I think it’s kinda dark and sad: it resembles what happened in the last weeks.

AnywaysI hope you still like it, and please dm me if you want to be tagged in next chapters!

Look forwards to the next ones, they’re gonna be gooooooood!!