Kriii ༊*·˚

“No. Way.” Wonhee looked you dead in the eye. “Moka runs the school gossip page!?”

“You’re being surprised at the wrong information.”

“Oh please. Martin being a two-faced asshole was expected.”

“I feel bad for Keonho.”

“Keeho, what the fuck?”

“I mean, that shoelace as a belt thing. Must’ve been heart breaking.”

‘Sometimes I feel like he’d fit in perfectly with Cortis.’ You think of all the times Keeho was defending the school’s circus troupe of a group.

“Now how do we get this information to Ohyul though?” Wonhee’s mind was running with ideas. All of them involved a sacrifice unfortunately. 

“Rather than telling him directly,” you stood up from the sofa, “let’s show it to him.”

“Fuck you mean?”

“It’s like Keonho said,” you moved your hands dramatically while trying to explain, “Martin shit-talks Ohyul in the auditorium to other people on a daily basis. If we just find out during what time, we could bring Ohyul there and show him what a big fat liar that tall blonde baguette looking guy is! And then he’d also think Martin was lying about the whole dissing Mr.Jay Park thing.” The whole idea was like sunshine and rainbows in your head.

You imagined Ohyul feeling betrayed by Martin the second time and crying in your arms. That way you’d get closer to Ohyul and show everyone Martin wasn’t iconic, he was just a mean boy. 

But he was kinda iconic as much as you hate to admit it.

“This really isn’t working out and Spring Fling is in 2 weeks.” Martin glared at you. 

You were currently stuck in his room’s closet.

While trying to pick an outfit for the event coming up in two weeks, Seonghyeon thought it’d be funny to lock you two up. And unfortunately, he broke the lock along with it.

Where does that lead to? You being stuck in a closet full of branded and vintage clothes with the guy whose life you're trying to ruin right now.

“I told you, it needs to get rid of your damaged hair first. You used so much bleach, no wonder you’re losing so much hair!”

“I’m naturally blonde just so you know.”

“No you’re not?”

“Yes I am.”

“Martin.” You took a breath. “You’re not naturally blonde.”

“People call me and James the blonde duo for a reason.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“That doesn't make you naturally blonde!”

“Hater.”

“You know it.”

“What?”

“It’s just a joke. I was joking.” He almost got you. 

While the others tried figuring out how to fix the door from outside, you spent the moment of silence with him, counting the number of hair strands that fell off.

“You know,” you looked up at him, “if you actually end up bald, what’ll you do?”

Wrong fucking question.

You were supposed to give him false hope that his hair would grow back perfectly. Not ask him what his second move would be if he ended up bald. 

You slapped yourself in your head for that dumb question.

“I trust you.”

“Huh?”

“I said I trust you.” He looked down at you. “You said I wouldn’t go bald before.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I’ll get a wig.”

‘Why was he so non-chalant about this like he wasn’t threatening me over going bald a few days ago.’

“You aren’t mad at me?”

“It’s not like you did it on purpose. Mr. Jeonghan must’ve lied to you.”

‘No. I lied to you.’ But you couldn’t say it.

You looked up a little more and noticed a bald spot starting to form. The light bulbs in the closet reflected it like pearls under the moonlight. 

“Why do you trust me so much?”

“Please, what could a nobody like you ever do to me.” His smirk made every ounce of guilt you felt inside you disappear.  

You could hear the door finally open behind you, but you couldn’t turn around.

Martin walked right past you towards the guys.

“Fucking finally.”

“Were you romancing her in there?”

“Don’t fucking joke about that Juhoon.”

“Seonghyeon you’re so dead.”

“I swear it wasn’t on purpose!”

The guys kept bickering but you stayed still in the room. You couldn’t go out.

He thought so little of you.

He didn’t care. He doesn’t actually trust you.

You found yourself in his washroom. Face to face with his facial cleansing gel. 

Without mercy, you pick up the bottle and empty the contents out and fill it up with what Wonhee had given you.

Intensive moisturising foot creme.

‘Let me show you what exactly I can do to you, queen bee.’

“I have this theory. If you spike all his hair up, he looks like Masha.” You explain to Wonhee while chewing away on a protein bar. 

“I know, you’ve told me this before.”

For some reason all you could talk about was Martin.

Martin this. Martin that. Martin a bitch. 

You knew Wonhee and Keeho were kind of getting tired of hearing about Martin all the time but you couldn’t help it. The words kept coming up like vomit.

The three of you walk down the hallway of the school, while you maintain a bit of distance from them in case the Plastics decide to show up out of nowhere.

At the end of the hallway, there now hung a banner which said : Coming Soon-Spring Fling! Nominate your King and Queen!

To get nominated for Spring Fling King and Queen you either had to be very good looking, very popular or have enemies in high places. Like the Student Activities Committee. 

During class, you and Wonhee were fully focused on the announcements being made through the speaker rather than Ms. Tzuyu calling out the attendance list.

“...and finally the nominees for Spring Fling King and Queen are as follows. Martin Edwards Park…”

In Martin’s classroom the people applauded for him but he acted like he didn’t care. It was expected after all.

The announcement continued. 

“Ahn Keonho…”

That made Martin startle a bit but he quickly regained his composure. 

“Kwon Ohyul…”

You could see the wrinkles on his forehead deepen.

“Lee Wonhee…”

Back in your classroom, you laughed at Wonhee’s face. This was her first time being nominated and she wasn’t expecting it at all. 

She proceeds to punch you in the arm.

“Kang Haerin…”

“And Y/N L/N.”

Martin scoffed at that. “What?” 

The three of you were back at Wonhee’s basement.

“Keeho, you shouldn’t have put my name in there! It’s gonna mess everything up.”

“But I didn’t.” He protested back.

“I’m really nominated?”

All he did was nod a yes. Everyone was confused but you also felt flattered.

During math class, you got your paper back.

“How much did you get?” Ohyul asked, looking back from his seat.

“85. I’m gonna need a tutor.”

“I could help you, if you want. Like after school or something.” The way he was so casual and non-chalant about it made you swoon. 

“Would Martin mind it?”

“Martin? Why would he care?” Ohyul looked confused. “You guys are friends, he wouldn’t mind it.” He turned back to the front.

A few seconds later he turns back again.

“Well maybe we just won’t tell him.”

Chapter 11, Chapter 13

taglist : @thelovethatilove @decadentcollectionpersona @aphantassia @seonghwaswifeuuuu @meeoowchi @mkissed @secretstuti @joyuuma @angelgivethemhell @rosietyty @tinybitofhope @jjellyouss @kpopsmutty69 @pinkfluffyunicorn08 @sunoosun00 @helimura

Somewhere in your bedroom, illuminated only by your laptop screen, you clicked the 'follow' button.

Martin wasn't the one who you saw on those posts now, he was famous and wanted by everyone. You didn't think much when you started liking all his little rants and blogs, he probably forgot he even had this account.

He looked really good back then, he still does. But when you go through his old stuff it feels as if something has changed.

'Kebab?'

Oh, must be that one time he ordered kebab without asking the others. He did mention it in an interview.

Then another post catches your eye.

'Motley Crue?' You loved the band too.

He had never mentioned he listened to them. This was something new, something none of the other fans knew, something that made you feel weird.

You started questioning yourself. Is it right to go through all this stuff? Does it make you a stalker? It's not like you were obsessed with him or anything, you just liked the music he made. That was all.

That was it.

You've never really paid attention to what kind of person he was. Everyone only knew the version of him which he wanted them to see.

Not this one.

Not this Martin.

Tumblr Martin was different and you knew it. For the first time, you were starting to know him as an individual.

Not as the leader of cortis.

Not as the so called fashion killa.

Seeing this side of him made you want to listen to cortis more, to watch more interviews, to see how much he's changed since then.

You've never been a huge fan.

Not until now.

His little rant about no one seeing his posts made you feel guilty. You saw it.

There was someone reading it.

You.

It felt like you were betraying his trust somehow, but it should be fine, right? What's the worst thing that could happen?

Martin was confused to say the least.

'Who was yn?'

'How did they find my old blog?'

'Perhaps a stalker?'

Thoughts kept flooding into his head as he started to grow more self conscious. There was someone out there reading about his past, the one he thought was too embarrassing.

The comment startled him for a second.

'Not only was this person reading and liking his posts, now they were commenting too?'

But he didn't feel embarrassed this time. Instead it felt like a connection. This person didn't expose his account to the internet, didn't make fun of anything he used to say and didn't spam anything like a crazy fan.

'I love motley crue.'

That was it.

A simple little connection that made him smile a little.

He had the urge to know more about you.

Who you were.

How'd you find his account.

Which was your favourite motley crue song.

What other bands were you interested in.

'swag princess, huh?'

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10

Taglist : @soupysnoopy1 @taelvvrzz

The first post was from 6 years ago.

Not reblogged. Not tagged.

Just sitting there, a group photo with few guys at a restaurant. The quality wasn't good and there was nothing catchy about it.

You found the blog completely by accident. One wrong click from a dead link, another from an archived fan page, and suddenly you were staring at a Tumblr account that looked like it had been abandoned for over a decade.

Your eyes fall on to the user name. Yeah, this was definitely a teen boy.

The profile picture was hard to make out - a blurry photo of someone's hand.

The name sounded very familiar but at the same time you couldn't exactly say who it was. But everything about the whole profile screamed nostalgia.

No replies. No notes. Just post after post.

Just a teenage boy with random thoughts at 3 am, half finished lyrics, photos of his friends and himself and song recommendations.

Everything about this boy was raw and unfiltered and that's what drew you in with the current world being set on restrictions and fitting in.

The post that was pinned had a random writing on it. But it looked a bit too familiar to you.

A line that eventually became a song.

A phrase you'd heard in interviews.

A thought that you deeply resonated with.

Not famous Martin.

Not stadiums and magazine covers Martin.

Just Martin. Young, restless and awake at three in the morning.

You kept scrolling.

Who was he even talking to? It felt like peeking into someone's old diary, it was weird.

You remembered seeing in one of the interviews, Martin would get messages on twitter but he'd reply somewhere else because he was scared to get cancelled over the smallest things.

Maybe this was it. Perhaps this really was his secret diary.

Across the town, Martin was trying to remember a password.

It started as a joke, a conversation with a friend. A mention of old websites, ancient internet archaeology.

Then he suddenly remembered, the tumblr account.

One that nobody knew about, one that was made before everything changed in his life, before the records and tours. Back when it was just him and his friends on soundcloud for fun.

He stared at the login screen.

Tried a password. Wrong.

Tried another one. Wrong

And finally a third one. Success.

When he got in, it was exactly as he had left it. Embarrassing and full of things no one should ever read.

"Oh no." He groaned as his eyes went to the notifications. Someone had been liking his old posts.

A new follower.

One follower.

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10

The first time you noticed him, it wasn't because he was handsome.

Well, maybe just a little bit.

But the main point was that he was predictable.

The last bus always arrived around 10:50 p.m. It would smell faintly of gasoline and the convenience store coffee everyone carried but never seemed to finish.

Every night without fail, he climbed aboard first.

Same oversized hoodie.

Same headphones hanging around his neck.

Same seat, third row from the back, window side.

You started taking the last bus because your shifts at the bookstore kept ending late at night.

At first he was just another familiar face.

And then familiar became expected.

You never learned his name and simply knew him as the guy with the Snoopy keychain which you secretly wanted to steal.

It hung from the zipper of his backpack. A tiny Snoopy looking up along with a heart. The paint chipped around the ears from years of being bumped against various places.

It bounced whenever the bus lurched with a slight jingle sound.

You found yourself watching it more than him. No matter how handsome someone's face may be, they are no match for Snoopy.

Sometimes you'd wonder where he'd gotten it and why does he carry it around so religiously. You'd imagine he'd won it from an arcade or that someone had given it to him.

Eventually your routine settled into something oddly comfortable where he'd board first and you'd board second.

He'd glance up just long enough to acknowledge your existence without a sound. His face would just show it in a silent way like he was saying 'Oh. You're here again.'

You'd take the seat beside him if it was empty but if someone else had claimed it, you'd sit across the aisle.

The city looked different after midnight.

Traffic lights changed for nobody as only a few vehicles were on the road.

Laundry swayed from apartment balconies and convenience stores glowed like tiny aquariums.

The bus windows reflected your faces and you'd end up staring at yourself, thinking about the things that happened throughout the day.

Sometimes the driver left the radio on low which played old songs through the speakers and occasionally interrupted by static.

Neither of you spoke as there wasn't any pressure to do so.

The silence which surrounded was shared with mutual understanding.

One rainy Thursday, the bus hit a pothole and your tote bag tipped over causing the pens and books to scatter across the floor. One of the notebooks slid near his shoes.

Before you could apologise, he bent down and helped you pick everything up.

The first time you heard his voice was when he handed you the notebook back.

"Here."

It was quieter than you expected.

"Thanks."

That was all but somehow it felt like progress.

The next night, you noticed something new. The Snoopy keychain had been joined by a tiny yellow bird.

Woodstock.

You couldn't stop yourself and ended up speaking whatever was in your head.

"He got a friend."

His eyes went from a confused stare towards you, then down to the zipper of the bag, and then back at you.

"Huh?"

"Snoopy."

He looked at the keychain again.

"Oh."

He didn't take his eyes off of it.

"My sister mailed me Woodstock."

You smiled thinking how cute it was. His sister must truly care for him. And you couldn’t help but think how sweet and quiet his voice sounds.

"I was wondering where he came from." You admitted without realising what you just said.

He stared at you for a few seconds and then, a small smile.

"You've been thinking about my keychain?"

Your face was starting to feel warm.

"Maybe."

"That's kind of funny."

Ever since that day, conversations happened accidentally between the two of you. Not every night but just enough.

"The vending machine at the station finally works."

"It wasn't working before?"

"For like, three weeks I guess."

"Oh."

──── ୨୧ ────

"That bakery closed."

"Really?"

"You look disappointed."

"I liked their melon bread."

──── ୨୧ ────

"You missed your stop?"

"I was reading."

"You've done it twice now."

"Don't tell anyone."

"I'll keep your secret."

──── ୨୧ ────

Eventually you learned his name because the driver called him out.

"Keonho! You forgot your umbrella!"

He turned around halfway down the steps.

"Thanks!"

When he climbed back aboard to grab it, you looked up from your book.

"Keonho."

A small pause between the two of you.

"Yeah?"

"I finally know your name."

"Guess you do."

"You were just 'Snoopy guy' before."

He laughed and this time it was an actual laugh.

"Honestly, sounds better than my own name."

The next night, something landed on your lap while you were in middle of reading your book.

A tiny acrylic charm of Woodstock, matching his.

He was sitting in his usual window seat and you were beside him as you looked at him.

"What's this?"

"So Snoopy isn't lonely."

"But didn’t your sister gift you this?"

"Don't worry. I already told her I'd be giving it to someone. If anything, she seemed happy because of that."

"How come you don't just carry Woodstock with you all the time too?"

"I didn't want too many charms on my bag, otherwise creeps like you would keep staring at it."

"Why are you throwing shade at me so casually?" You laughed.

"Just accept it already."

"Still, you definitely didn't have to."

"I know."

"..."

"..."

"Thanks."

He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, then looked back out the window before you could see him smiling.

The bus became less about getting home and more about the twenty eight minutes you two shared in either a small talk or in silence.

Sometimes you'd both be scrolling through your phones.

Sometimes you'd read and he'd be watching mukbang videos on youtube.

Sometimes you'd just watch the rain race down the glass and he'd be watching you. Those were the days where he lost his window seat to you, perhaps deliberately.

The silence had changed slightly. It was still there, but much warmer now.

It was the silence of people who knew they'd be there tomorrow.

Keonho looked at your bag as your Woodstock charm swung gently from the zipper.

One night, the bus arrived nearly empty and only the two of you sat near the back. Outside, the city was shining in orange and white.

"Still got him."

You looked down at the little trinket.

"Of course."

He nodded his head and looked to the front.

"Good."

You smiled looking out the window.

"So Snoopy isn't lonely."

For a moment, neither of you looked at each other. You didn't need to.

The reflection in the bus window showed two people sitting shoulder to shoulder beneath the fluorescent lights, watching the city silently. Sometimes you'd find his eyes diverting towards you in the reflection and he'd never realise it. You smiled slightly into your hands everytime you caught him looking.

And somehow the ride home had stopped feeling like the end of the day as it had quietly become something that both of you looked forward to most.

a/n : seeing everyone love the sean fic, you know i just had to do a keonho ver 🙈 i've been thinking of keonho and snoopy for so long and finally i made it🙏 might do juhoon next since he still ain't on my master list yet🫣 i hope this was a fun read for yall😭 it's 1 am and genuinely these are the only times i am free enough to write these days💔 should i lowkey just sneak my tab into class and write from there ? 😂 (most likely not) thinking of making a perm taglist???what are yalls opinion??(idk how to make one tbh)

It was finally the day of the talent show. Cortis and you were backstage doing one final practice of Magnetic before getting on stage. 

“You didn’t really have to send me a candy cane. I was just kidding.” Martin said in between, his ears were slightly turning red. You just assumed it was due to the heat.

“Well, you’ve been so nice to me.” You replied giving a fake smile. 

As the last practice ended, everyone started fixing their hair and makeup. You watched intently as Martin struggled with his hair.

Keonho walks up to you as you are putting on some final touches. 

“It just seems weird to me. I mean no offence-”

‘Something else I’ve learnt in Cortis World, when they start a sentence with no offence, they’re about to offend you.’

“but why would he send you a candy cane? He doesn’t even like you that much.”

‘See what I mean.’

Everyone stood in position behind the curtains on the stage.

Everything was going fine until Martin ruined everyone's peace again.

“Keonho, switch sides.” He said not even acknowledging Keonho.

Martin was at the end of the line and by switching Keonho, you'll end up standing next to him.

“What? But I'm always on your left.” He fought back.

“And right now you're getting on my last nerve. Switch.”

Everyone looked nervous. The whole routine was going to be ruined by this last minute change but no one could oppose Martin either.

When the curtains finally pull up, you stare at everyone in front of you. Something inside you was screaming to get off the stage but it was too late, the music started and everyone danced immediately with muscle memory. You were a beat behind but caught up just in time.

Everything was going fine for a while. Seonghyeon and Keonho were totally in sync, Keonho doing better than Seonghyeon at times though. James locked in like he created the choreography himself. Juhoon and Martin were doing well too. And then there was you that stuck out like a sore thumb.

That's what you thought at least. 

Perhaps the others didn't think so?

But of course, peace was something that never stayed too long with Cortis. After Martin changed the whole line up, Keonho and you have been having troubles trying to adjust to everything. One mistake was all it took to bring the whole group down.

One wrong step.

And everyone was shuffling around trying to fix the mistake.

Seonghyeon ended up accidentally kicking the speaker off the stage.

It was ruined, all of it.

There was no music.

But for some reason everyone continued to dance and you just followed them not knowing what to do.

Until, someone in the crowd started singing. 

Wonhee.

You knew you could always count on her.

Hearing her, the entire audience followed and sang along as you guys continued to dance. 

Instead of an angry Martin, you saw him smile.

You loved it when he smiled.

‘Wait what? You loved it when he smiled? Martin, the school bully?’

No.

No.

No.

You didn't. 

You were in strong denial.

You couldn't face him anymore and looked down at the stage only to find pieces of his hair which were slowly falling off from his head, lying on the ground.

There was a part of him everywhere no matter where you looked.

You weren't sure whether to laugh at what you saw or feel guilty.

After the performance came to an end, everyone got off the stage gleefully. 

“That was the best performance we've ever done so far.”

“Did you see how everyone joined in?”

“The only good thing Sean has done so far.”

“We should totally get drunk at Martin's place after this.”

Everyone was busy talking to each other. Meanwhile you still felt like an outsider.

You look around for someone you know and spot Ohyul walking up to you.

“Hey.” He was casual with it as he approached. 

“Hey”

“Hey.” A third evil ‘hey’ popped up from behind you and of course it was Martin. 

“Great job out there.”

“Thanks.” You replied.

You tried enjoying your moment with Ohyul but it was really hard with Martin right behind you with the evil eye.

During English class, you watched Keonho unravel his emotions in front of everyone.

“Why should Caesar get to stomp around like a giant, while the rest of us try not to get smushed under his big feet? What’s so great about Caesar? Hmm? Brutus is just as cute as Caesar. Brutus is just as smart as Caesar. People totally like Brutus just as much as they like Caesar. And when did it become okay for one person to be the boss of everybody, huh? Because that’s not what Rome is about. We should totally just stab Caesar!”

‘Ahn Keonho had cracked.’

Keonho and you were in the nurse’s office after he pretended to have a severe headache.

“I mean, if you even knew how mean he really is. You know I’m not allowed to wear shoelaces as belts anymore right?” His eyes were glistening with tears.

“He told me two years ago that shoelace belts were ‘his thing’ and I wasn’t allowed to wear them anymore. And then my parents got a pair of really expensive blue shoes and I couldn’t use the laces as a belt and ended up actually using it for the shoe.”

‘He was just as dumb as James.’ You thought to yourself. 

“And you know, he still cheats on Ohyul by shit-talking him to other people at the auditorium. He even threatened Moka by saying he’d tell everyone she runs the school gossip page on twitter and get her boyfriend to dump her just cause she called him bald. And I never told anybody this cause am such a good friend!”

Chapter 10, Chapter 12

taglist : @thelovethatilove @decadentcollectionpersona @aphantassia @seonghwaswifeuuuu @meeoowchi @mkissed @secretstuti @joyuuma @angelgivethemhell @rosietyty @tinybitofhope @jjellyouss @kpopsmutty69 @pinkfluffyunicorn08 @sunoosun00